#but coming up with social justice reasons for why its bad when x person is gnc actually

[evilyurifan]

i think that more, accepted gender nonconformity is never going to be a bad thing. it doesnt matter if its done by cishets or its done “for the wrong reasons”, i just dont see how society getting more accustomed to gender nonconformity as a good and normal thing could ever be bad for lgbts.

#lime.txt #like. i think theres just gnc kids on tiktok who use that to feel special. whis is a ver normal thing to do this isnt a callout #but coming up with social justice reasons for why its bad when x person is gnc actually #thats just so counterintuitive you know

[mayfieldss]

hey girl! how have you been?🤍

I think your requests are open. If they aren’t you could totally ignore this!

Ok so I read a similar fic a little while ago and I had an idea for a bucky x y/n and I thought you’d do amazing with this.

Tony is throwing a party and Bucky doesn’t want to go since he’ll have to socialize so he stays in his room. Some random girl comes in by mistake since she was trying to escape the party as well and they start talking. Bucky can’t stop thinking about her and then sees her again a couple days after the party and realizes she’s a new agent who’s working at the compound.

Ok that probably sounds so bad🙈 ahaha sorry! you could totally change it and do whatever you want lol

but thank you very very much!❤️✨

I love this idea so much and I just hope I did it half the justice that it deserves. I really hope you like it.

-

On party business - Bucky Barnes

Buckyxfemreader

Warnings: None unless you're Steve Rogers and coarse language is an issue for you.

AN: Don't mind me venting some of my social anxiety issues through this fic...

The party was loud and busy as would be expected at one of Tony Starks infamous get-togethers. You were only here because you didn’t feel like you could refuse the invite, and how many times could a person be invited to a Party by hosted by Tony Stark? So you went along, instantly regretting the decision as soon as you walked into the compound. It was packed with dancing men and women, some holding drinks while others were grinding their bodies together. Many were sitting on couches enveloped in conversations which you doubted you would be invited into. You didn’t know anyone. Finding the clearest route through the people you made your way to the Bar. There was no way you could get through this night without downing a drink first, if not two or three. Taking a seat on one of the stools you glanced around the room hoping the night would go by faster. - Bucky hated Parties. He hated how many people would surround him, ask him questions in their drunk states and caress his Metal arm with their sticky, alcohol covered fingers. There were also the ones that would avoid him completely as well. The ones that were still wary of him despite knowing he was no longer the Winter Solider. Those people were a part of his everyday life however, so he didn't mind them as much, having been accustomed to so many living in fear of him already. This in mind, it still hurt to think nobody trusted him enough to be around him. It made it so the Winter Solider was always with him, people only seeing him as his past. So Bucky didn’t leave his room. Nobody at the Party would want him there anyway, they wouldn’t miss his presence. He sat on his bed and read his books, cleaned his boots, wrote in his journal. This way nothing unexpected could ever happen. - You’d been at the party for no more than two hours and were already aching to leave. There were too many people around for your liking, none of them paying any interest in you as you stood in the corner next to the bar. Most were shitfaced drunk, you managing to stay sober despite the circumstances. You never let yourself over drink at parties after seeing some of your past friends making the most embarrassing mistakes during your high school years. Some got tattoos or had one night stands, others posted videos of themselves on the internet for all to see or sent an embarrassing message to their ex. Making a promise to yourself in high school you told yourself to never let yourself become like them. You planned to keep that promise. Pushing your way to through the crowd you made you way to one of the many staircases attempting to get away from the storm of people surrounding you. Some swore at you as you moved your way past them, holding onto the handrail for security to avoid any drama as people shoved you back. You weren’t trying to be rude but you had to get away. Once at the top you moved quickly down the hallway to the left of you, turning each doorknob you passed, looking desperately for a room that was unlocked to be your place of refuge. Five doors later and a doorknob twisted with ease allowing you entrance. You pushed the door open in a hurry, rushing into the room without so much as a glance around. Closing the door behind you you rested your forehead gently upon its wood with a sigh. You were so relived to find an escape from the over peopled space outside of this room, finally taking a breath only for it to catch in your throat at the sound of another's presence. It was the sound of a closing book, it wasn't being slammed shut but just gently closed and you could hear the pages slap lightly against each other. Your shoulders tensed and you reached for the doorknob readying yourself to leave. "You okay?" It was the voice of a man, deep and steady. Calming somehow. Slowly retracting your hand from the doorknob you turned to face the stranger of that you had walked in on. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here. I was just trying to get away from the crowd". Your back was pressed to the door and you hands itched to reach for the doorknob again, every part of you

wishing to get out of the uncomfortable encounter. The man gave a small awkward smile and shuffled himself to the edge of the bed he was lying on, placing his feet on the ground. He was wearing cat socks and you couldn't stop the smile forming on your lips. He looked at you confused, and followed your gaze to his feet an embarrassed blush forming on his cheeks. "I like them a lot, where'd you get them?" You asked not wanting him to feel self-conscious over something as simple as a pair of socks. He simply shrugged "Can't remember honestly". You could tell he did remember and that he probably had whole draws full of the fuzzy feet warmers but you didn't overstep any more than you already had, having been in his room and all. "I guess I should go" You point behind you to the door you were leaning against, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously. You could taste the blood in your mouth from the harsh grazing of your teeth. "I'm so sorry for bothering you". You reached for the doorknob your fingers wrapping around it tightly as you were so close to your escape. "Wait" Freezing in your place you took his words more seriously than he meant them to be. You had been so close to leaving and you contemplated pulling the door open and making a run for it. He seemed to understand your discomfort "You don't have to but if you want to stay here until the party calms down a little you can". There was a silence and you regarded his proposal before turning back around to face him, keeping a hand pressed firmly to the wood of the door. "Are you sure I wouldn't be bothering you?". The man shook his head, a short laugh escaping his lips "Yeah I'm sure. God knows I need to be more social". This made you frown, not understanding how he could say such a thing when there was a very social party right outside his door. "If you need to be social you shouldn't be out there?" You waved behind you again keeping your eyes on the man in front of you. He had bright blue eyes that seemed to stare into the deepest parts of your soul, but not in the threatening way from which it would seem. They felt safe and trustworthy. He wore a grey T-shirt over a long sleeved black thermal, jeans and of course those wonderful cat socks. He seemed kind enough and you felt your stress fade the smallest bit as you took in his features. The man with the undeniably beautiful eyes shook his head at your question "I'm not fond of crowds". You had to agree with him there. You always felt uncomfortable around masses of people especially in small spaces. You had Your social anxiety to thank for that wonderful fault. It wasn't like you could help it, You tried to but it was difficult to stand being cramped together with a bunch of strangers. "I understand what you mean" You lifted your gaze from his for a second and looked around his room. It was neat and tidy, everything organized and in its own little home where it belonged. "You are very-' you paused, thinking of a word to describe the place, "-Clean". He nodded "I've had issues with people controlling me in the past, this is just one thing I feel l can make my own". The change of tone in his voice startled you, how important this was to him and the hidden pain that appeared behind the blue eyes you had grown to adore within the short minutes of knowing him. Sliding your back down the door you sat on the floor of his room staring back at him on his bed. You couldn't deny that you didn't want to go back out into the bustling hallway filled with drunken fools. So you had made the decision and decided to stay. He looked shocked by your movements and a frown began to form on his face as he shuffled closer to the wall next to his bed. "You can sit up here if you want, I can move if you feel uncomfortable with me up here too, or I can get you a chair" He sounded so sincere and the gentleman in him pleased you. You doubted any other man you had met on this night would have been so kind but you declined his offers, already feeling like a burden in his room. "It's okay, I'm fine here". You could tell he didn't

like your answer, that he wanted to get up so you could sit on the bed or get you the chair that he suggested. You sent him a smile to reassure him you were okay where you were. After a moment of silence he spoke "So you don't like parties?" You let yourself chuckle "You could say that yeah". "Why?". It took a moment to register his question fiddling with your hands, cracking your knuckles. "Same reason as you I guess, Its hard to feel accepted around people you don't know, I feel like their judging me. It makes me uncomfortable". You had no idea why you told him that but once it left your lips you couldn't take it back. It was okay though, it wasn't as embarrassing as you thought it would be when you looked up to see his understanding eyes. "But you know people here right? Friends that know you?" His head was tilted to the side, just a little, and he reminded you of a puppy. A handsome blue eyed puppy. You shook your head "Not here no, and even if I did they wouldn't really know me" Once again you shared more than was needed but it felt so easy to say, it came out before you could think the words over and there was no shame in saying the words like you thought there would be. He didn't seem bothered by them either, more like he knew where you were coming from. "What's your name?" "Bucky". You liked that name a lot. It was a nickname obviously but it suited him so perfectly and you felt so comfortable at hearing it. It was almost indescribable, the way he seemed to be telling himself what his name was as well as you. It made you even more curious, all the unknowns about the person in front of you, Bucky, that you wanted to learn. "What's yours?" You frowned "What's my what?" as soon as the words left your lips you felt stupid, so entranced by him that you were barley thinking of the conversation at hand. A smile formed on his face "What's your name?" You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment and you struggled for words through flustered state. "Of course um- it's Y/n" You felt so stupid and looked down at your hands trying to seem unbothered, pretending that what had just happened never did. You had never been good at dealing with embarrassment and you chose to keep your head down whenever something embarrassing happened. That had started in high school as well. How easy it was to be teased for the smallest things had brought upon you the stress and anxiety you held with you to this very day. "I like that name" Bucky's words were gentle, as if they alone, were lifting your head up to look at him, like a gentle hand under your chin. "I like your name too". He smiled again at that and you looked back to your hands squeezing them together tightly. You wanted to ask him so many questions, keep a conversation flowing to stop the awkward silence that would soon settle in but you didn't want to seem weird in any way. You tried to think of something that related to your previous, extremely short, conversation. Something to add onto it, to get to know him better. "What's your full name? I know Bucky's a nickname" You were about to stop there, and you probably should have, but thought it best to clarify some more with what you meant "Not that I don't like the name Bucky, I love it actually, I just wanted to know". Curses flowed through your mind and anxiety followed as your words trailed off into the short silence before his response. You sounded so stupid and you cringed internally at how awkward you always were. "My names James. James Buchanan Barnes". You bit your lip as a smile formed on his, making your stomach do the smallest of flips. "Well It's nice to meet you James Buchanan Barnes". - Bucky hadn't expected someone like you to come through his door and he hadn't expected you to accept his offer to stay. You talked to him like he was a real person and you never said a thing about his arm. It was as though you barely noticed it and after twenty minutes you came to sit with him on the bed, the floor becoming 'unbearably uncomfortable' in your words. He made plenty of room and kept a

respectable distance between you, not wanting to come off like he was just trying to get in your pants, but you seemed to understand that that wasn't the case. You talked for another hour, silences between different conversations as you thought of ways to keep the discussion going. You were both as awkward as each other it seemed, and as time passed you both became more comfortable with the others presence. When you finally checked the time you were surprised to see how long you had stayed and got up fast to leave. Bucky didn't want you to go but it wasn't his place to tell you otherwise. You put your shoes back on, having taken them off earlier and headed toward the door. Turning back to him as you twisted the handle you pursed your lips with a small smile. He thought it was cute. "Thank you Bucky, for letting me stay". Bucky nodded "Maybe I'll see you around, if I'm lucky". You bit your lip one last time, a thing Bucky noticed you did, before you opened the door and left, closing it behind you. Bucky sat back on his bed a grin growing on his face at the thought of you, a complete stranger whose company he had grown to enjoy. He thought over the last thing he had said, 'Maybe I'll see you around, if I'm lucky'. Bucky wasn't ever very lucky but maybe the world would be on his side this time. Maybe he would get to see you again. - A week had passed since the party and Bucky sat with Sam and Steve at the compound. An argument had ensued as a result of this the three never being a stunning trio, mainly referring to Bucky and Sam's constant bickering. "That's not how it works! Come on side with me here Steve!" Sam looked over to their blonde haired friend who simply shrugged as a response. He was smart enough not to get caught up in sides between the two of them. Bucky opened his mouth to respond but someone over Sam's shoulder caught his eye, making him pause. "Cat got your tongue? You know I'm right Buck". Bucky simply ignored Sam's teasing, eyes locked on the newcomer to the room. A woman talking to Natasha. Her back was turned and her hair was down obscuring any possible view of her features from him. But he knew he recognized her. If only she would would turn around. It took another minute and now, curious, both Sam and Steve had moved their gazes to the girl. They didn't seem to know her and soon became bored turning back to each other and starting a whole new conversation from which Bucky ignored entirely. After a period of time that seemed to last forever, Natasha waved Him, Steve and Sam over and the closer Bucky got to the girl the more he recognized her. It was then that she turned, locking eyes with him. He could tell she recognized him just as he did her. It was you. He smiled. "Hey stranger". -

AN: Happy Bucky fic Friday!!!!

TAGLIST: @characters-deserve-better @posteyymaloney @agentsofsheilds @ladyfallonavenger @buckys2thicc @justifymyfeelings @winter-soldier-vibes TAGS:

#Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky imagine #Bucky Barnes one shot #Bucky #Bucky one shot #James Buchanan Barnes #Winter solider #Fatws #Buckyxfemreader #Bucky x yn #Steve rogers #Sam Wilson #falcon #falcon and the winter #Captain America #Sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #Sebastian stan imagine #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes smut #angst #Marvel #MCU #Marvel cinematic universe #Avengers

[maddieinwonder]

The Seventh

Slight Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None at all

Word Count: 1.6k

Plot: Reader hears a lot of rumours about the BAU before she applies to join the team. (Part 2 here!)

Author's Note: I love the idea of the BAU being notorious in the FBI, because honestly, they totally would be! And I would be lying if I said I've never crushed hard irl on a mysterious genius boy...

Masterlist

------------

Before you decided to join the BAU, you had heard all kinds of gossip about its members. It was a hot topic among your colleagues, but you could hardly blame them for the shameless act, when you left one ear open for it yourself.

Professionally, if they weren't called the BAU, people called them the "serial killer guys", since they couldn't seem to escape them in their cases. But among your lunch group, they were called "The Seven".

It was an embarrassing name in your opinion, too easily implying that the BAU was elite, untouchable. But the more you learned about them, the more you thought there could some truth to it.

Number One was SSA Hotchner, the unit chief known for his stone cold attitude. You heard a rumour that he once threatened the BAU section chief without so much as batting an eye. Anybody else would have been fired on the spot, but it seemed that Hotchner was so unrivalled in his job that he was asked to stay anyway.

Hotchner's opposite was SSA Rossi, who seemed to be the more "human" of the two, but that didn't make him any less intimidating. He was famous both in and out of the FBI, having built the BAU from the ground up, and written multiple best-selling books about criminal analysis. Why he decided to return to the BAU was a mystery to everyone, but you had a feeling he actually missed it.

Then there was SSA Prentiss. Everyone's consensus was that she seemed nice, but ultimately professional. People theorised that her political upbringing made her into a politician herself, but you once saw her in the BAU office laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and that's when you decided she couldn't be as stiff as the rest made her out to be.

SSA Morgan was the one everybody liked, on a shallow level at least. All your fingers and toes weren't enough to count how many people you knew had a crush on him. You've seen grown women visibly swoon when he walked by, which was partially hilarious for you, but also partially embarrassing for womenkind. You could see the appeal, somewhat, but he wasn't your speed.

Your favourite was JJ. Jennifer Jareau was the BAU's communications liaison and the only one you'd dare call a friend. You'd worked with her on multiple cases in the past, and in fact, she was the one who recommended you for the new position. She's a complete sweetheart, but you also knew that she once headshot an unsub right in the BAU office to protect Penelope. That fact only increased your admiration for her.

She was also the one to introduce you to the BAU's infamous technical analyst. You had heard of Penelope Garcia prior to that, but she so rarely emerged from her office that you almost thought she was a myth. The real person was unlike an FBI agent at all, always donning some combination of bright colours, feathers, and/or sparkles. Most people who'd seen her labelled her as a weirdo, but there was something about her, a sense of positivity, that you loved.

Last but not least, the one that slipped under everyone's radar, Dr. Spencer Reid. People didn't talk much about Dr. Reid because, well, there was nothing really to talk about. He was the youngest person to ever join the FBI, had an IQ of 187, and you thought he was far too pretty to be doing a job this terrible, but that's where the conversations usually ended.

Everything that could be said, envied, or admired about the genius had simply been covered already, and he offered no new fodder for the gossip trolls to chew on; he rarely left the office, he didn't mingle with the other departments, and frankly, everyone thought he was socially awkward.

Yet, you found yourself continuously coming back to him in your thoughts. Maybe, subconsciously, you wanted to join the BAU so that you could figure him out.

The first time you met Dr. Reid, he was giving the profile of an unsub to the larger team. His words sped by so quickly, yet with so much insight and detail that you found yourself scrunching your face in concentration in order to get it all, and that impressed you.

You had always been a quick study but you instantly knew that Dr. Reid would be a challenge, both professionally and personally, and you hadn't even got to know him yet.

As you submitted the request to join the BAU, you admit that the excitement of that challenge was at the forefront of your mind. And when you were called into SSA Hotchner's office a few months later, the thought rang in your head even louder.

"Agent Hotchner, you called for me?" You asked at his door, suddenly feeling timid in the face of your potential boss.

"Sit down, agent," he said without looking up. As you took a seat, he opened a file that was undoubtedly yours and looked up. His eyebrows were furrowed, but if what you'd heard about him was true, this didn't necessarily mean anything bad. And you were right.

"I have your test results with me," he began. "Firstly, I'd like to congratulate you for scoring the highest in your class." You swore he almost cracked a smile.

"I've also heard a lot about you. Your boss had many good things to say about your work ethic, your field experience, and your commitment to justice," he continued.

Now it was your turn to smile.

"But I want to know the real reason why you want to join the BAU." Your smile faltered slightly, something that you're sure Hotchner would pick up on.

He leaned forward in his desk, purposefully applying pressure on the situation, and you let out a quiet breath in preparation.

"The reason I wanted to join the BAU may not be new to you, but I'm looking for a challenge. I want to make a change." You started. "I understand that those two may be contradictory principles, but I believe I can grow and do a lot of good with the BAU."

"And what if the job gets too much for you?" He asks, a flicker of emotion that I didn't recognise crossing his face.

"I'm prepared for that," you said determinedly. "I may not know what this job will take from me, but I'd like the opportunity to prove that I can grow from it, sir."

Agent Hotchner eyed you for a moment before standing up. "Very well, then." He reached out his hand. "Welcome to the BAU."

You looked at his hand for a second, the shock barely registering, before scrambling to your feet. "Thank you, sir! I won't disappoint you!" You shake his hand grinning.

"And next time, just call me Hotch." He said, this time smiling amusedly at your enthusiasm.

"Got it, and thank you again, sir." You said, excusing yourself from his room with a noticeable skip in your step.

You tried to cool yourself off walking back to your department to share the good news, but the excitement proved too much to hold in when a familiar voice calls out to you.

"Hey babygirl, considering you just came out of Hotch's office with a smile, I'm guessing you're going to be our newest teammate."

You turned around, trying to swallow your giddiness, when you realised that person was none other than SSA Morgan.

"Agent Morgan," you stuck out your hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you, and yes, I am."

"Derek." He corrected, grinning as he shook your hand. "Looking forward to working closely with you."

"Just call him Morgan. Don't need to get too close to this player." SSA Prentiss nudged Derek out of the way, raising her hand to meet yours. "I'm Emily Prentiss."

You giggled at their closeness.

The rest of the introductions quickly followed, including hugs from JJ and Penelope, and a starstruck moment when Rossi left his office to personally welcome you to the team. But there was one person whom you hadn't formally met yet.

Dr. Reid had finally separated his head from his work amidst the commotion (plus a very strong encouragement from one Mr. Derek Morgan to "go get her, pretty boy") and walked up to you, a nervous gait in his step.

He stuck his hand out to your surprise, having heard that the doctor was a tad germaphobic, and shook yours. "Dr. Spencer Reid," he said. "But you can call me Spencer, everyone else does."

"Nice to meet you, Spencer." You tried out the foreign name on your tongue. "Honestly, I'm quite a fan of your academic papers. I'm looking forward to working with you."

You knew the genius was a bit awkward, but he instantly turned beet red at your words and retracted his hand. The thought that this was the first time somebody had complimented him this way made you a little sad. But you thought his reaction was incredibly cute, and apparently so did the rest.

"Pretty boy, pret-ty boy, is that how you should react around a lady?" Derek sing-songed, putting his arm around the poor genius' shoulders, tugging him down.

JJ shot you an apologetic look for her childish teammates, while the rest joined in to poke fun at Spencer. Although he was frowning, his voice betrayed no hints of annoyance. Clearly they were all very close.

You laughed along, feeling a growing warmth in your chest, and wondered if you'd be a part of this family in the future.

But first, you’d have to get used to being the Eighth.

------------

(Part 2 here!)

#mads fics #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #cm fic #cm fanfic #bau #aaron hotchner #hotch #derek morgan #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia

[wevegottogetaway]

Thanks fo’ saving my ass tonight

I got so much going on with uni, but I couldn’t resist. If you too are queen/king of procrastinating uni work, you have my deepest support! Hope you enjoyed x

TW: none (except fool language)

Part 2    -    Part 3*

Office parties have never been y/n’s cup of tea, the idea of enjoying yourself in the very place people usually count down the hours before they can leave, is rather ludicrous in her humble opinion. Alas as the boss’ personal assistant, she not only had to plan and organize the whole shebang but her presence was also required, supervision purposes and all that. The only solace sweetening the deal for her was that she’d be in charge of the catering too, and y/n learnt very early on that good food and greater booze could make any boring work function at least tolerable.

Now that the festivities are in full swing, conversation flowing almost as heartily as the champagne in the guests’ eager mouths, y/n thinks she did quite well. The vast open space of the office is decorated with taste, the music set at the perfect level as to not overpower the boring chitchat bouncing off its walls, and to her greatest delight, the catering company she hired has truly outdone themselves. All in all, everybody seems to be having a grand time, and y/n decides that’s reason enough to officially relieve herself of her supervisor’s duties.

As she scans over the assortment of canapés, mini-quiches, crudités and other mouth-watering ambrosias, y/n fails to notice the tall figure casually approaching her. She’s in the midst of pondering whether she should try the humous or a cream cheese and salmon toast first, mouth salivating and stomach growling in appetite, when a raspy voice interrupts her inner battle, "I see m’not the only one who’s here just fo’ the food".

Her eyes pop off the delicious hors d’oeuvres to the sight gracing them next and she doesn’t know which is the most appetizing. Because standing a few feet from her is Harry, vibrant smile and pretty dimples on show, as he leans over the verrines platter to pick the best-looking one. He’s wearing an olympic blue floral suit on top of a scandalously unbuttoned transparent shirt, a bold number that would grant anyone else looks of surprise and confusion but looked absolutely divine on his broad frame. Besides, after two years working at the office, everyone had gotten used to his unconventional fashion choices by now.

Y/n quirks an eyebrow in curiosity as she dips a cucumber stick in a bowl of humous, before quipping, "not a big fan of these things?"

Harry lets out a small chuckle in a ‘no kidding’ way, and attaches his emerald eyes to hers, "they’re kind of a drag, if m’bein’ honest."

She smiles at his admission, realizing they both share an aversion for mundanities, "I know right. Like, why party here where everyone has to be on their best behavior when we could be down at the bar without the boss gallivanting around?" she cries out in exasperation and not for the first time, Harry thinks she’s quite possibly the most endearing thing he’s ever seen. His smile widens the tiniest bit at her passionate rant, "my thoughts exactly. Do we even know what we’re supposed to celebrate?" The question makes her laugh, she wouldn’t have known either if not for her involvement in the affair, "well as the person behind this all drag," she give him a pointed look at his jeering choice of word, "it would be weird if I didn’t."

Harry’s face falls at the possibility of having offended her, but his uneasiness quickly dissipates when she starts laughing at him. "M’sorry, that came out wrong," he tells her before letting out a giggle of his own and y/n revels in the moment. The idea of interacting with him beyond the usual ‘here’s the presentation for today’s conference’ or ‘do you have the quarterly report ready’ is rather intoxicating for her already feeble nerves. "Don’t worry, I take no offense, I’m just as bored as you are," she reassures him with a smile, "the party is for a new potential investor, something about wooing them with some ‘corporate fun’. S’a load of bullshit if you ask me".

Harry nods at the explanation unimpressed, his boss’ intentions being the least of his worries. Aside from being the classic douche every manager typically insists on being, the guy has always made his distaste about him pretty clear, so Harry would rather focus on more interesting things. Like how beautiful y/n looks right now, her hair tied up in a loose bun at the top of her head, leaving a few strands to fall around her face. "You look amazing, by the way," he brings himself to say, though he thinks his compliment doesn’t even do her justice.

Y/n looks down at her own outfit then: a knee-length red dress composed of a skater skirt and a backless top that only holds with a couple pressure buttons clasped behind her neck. Her cheeks warm up to match the color of her apparel, betraying the timidity she’s always fallen victim of whenever he happened to be in her vicinity. Y/n’s never been one to shy away from her feelings or trip over her own words when facing her crushes, but there is something about Harry that teleports her right back to her sheepish 13 year-old teenage self. Also, she’s not too keen on office romances and the drama that usually ensues so she’s always made sure to stifle her blossoming attraction and keep their relation work-appropriate. Surely that must account for most of her awkwardness, doesn’t it?

Her eyes trail back to his face and her response comes in a shy euphemism, "thank you, you clean up quite nicely yourself." It’s enough to quirk Harry’s lips in a bashful smile, their  complexion evidently on edge as they tread uncharted territories. Professionalism has always regimented their interactions with kind but polite rigidness, neither of them quite inclined to cross that invisible line, but tonight seems to challenge that.

Tonight, Harry is resolute in his infatuation, no longer inhibited from social construct but driven by a quest for knowledge; anything that will help him decipher her carefully shielded crux. Tonight, he endeavors to scrape the edges of her rough diamond to expose the gem encapsulated inside, peel back the stoic layers of her exterior to find her unapologetic and intrinsic nature. Tonight, he is thirsty for secrets and confidential disclosures, and he won’t leave until he’s drained it all out of her. Unless she tells him to fuck off, obviously.

Harry keeps the conversation going as he browns the buffet for a new delicacy to snack on, "so, what would you be doing if you didn’t have to be here?" He wants to know everything, the present and the past, the good and the bad, the superficial and the substance, the messy and the orderly, but he figures he should start by what she likes to do in her own time. The things that loosen her up after a tense week at work, the things that will make her eyes shine with passion as she relates them back to his curious mind.

The question reaches her ears as she takes a sip of her drink, "mmm," she smiles around her glass before placing it back on the table, "-that’s easy. Playing pool with the gang at Gibson’s." Her answer spills without hesitation, a heap of follow-up questions already brewing up in Harry’s brain, but the foreign name is what beckons his attention first, "Gibson’s?" he echoes with a faint rumple pulling the skin between his eyes. Is that the name of a friend? A boyfriend? Out of all the questions he’s contemplated, y/n’s relationship status never crossed his mind. He’s always assumed her to be a single woman, the evidence of a significant other never present in her language and demeanor.

A wave of relief washes over him at her elaboration, "it’s a bar couple blocks from my place. It’s been my friends and I’s HQ ever since we all met." The sentiment has her eyes sparkle at the remembrance of all the happy memories the place hosted, and Harry stores the information in his mental list of all y/n’s soft spots.

"Sounds rad, so you play pool?" he inquires with enthusiasm. He’s been knows to play a game or two in his youth, though it’s been a hot minute since he’s felt the weight of the cue in his hands as he sinks ball after ball in their respective pockets. He remembers the elation of it all, the adrenaline coursing through his veins at each successful strike, and his heart flutters at the thought of ever sharing a game with her; she seems like the competitive type in the most entertaining way possible. Before his thoughts can spiral into much filthier realms, like bending her over the table mid-game when his own skills prevail and she turns into a sore-loser, y/n’s voice rings him back to reality.

"Uh uh, correction," her expression suddenly turns in false seriousness before she proves him right about her competing tendencies, "I win at pool." Her eyes are so full of confidence, a spice of mischief sparkling in their corner, she would have no difficulty persuading anyone of anything that passes the threshold of her mouth. Harry certainly doesn’t doubt her mastery of the bar game, but it doesn’t stop him from challenging her in a slightly elevated pitch, "oh is that so?"

Y/n only grins at the banter, not at all fazed by his taunting remark, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." She reaches for another snack, not taking her come-hither look off his handsome face, and Harry revels in her flirtatious advances, a smug smile taking possession of his lips as he surfs of the same wave of seduction. "Is that a challenge?" he philanders back, fueling the sensual back-and-forth they seem to have embarked upon.

"Not much of a challenge if I know I’ll win," y/n replies with cheek, her self-assurance once again burgeoning like sexy wildflowers sprouting from the ground underneath Harry’s feet, wrapping around his ankle and growing along his body to twine around his spellbound heart. He absolutely loves her unfaltering aplomb, finds it undoubtably sexy but he can’t let her know that just yet.

"Cocky."

"Confident."

They both chuckle at their repartee, enjoying this ping-pong of quick-witted banter they’ve never found in anybody else before. It’s like their intellects were meant to collide in galvanizing forces, the encounter of two fiery psychs too brilliant to one up the other.

Harry is mesmerized by their connection, if he knew sparks would fire this bright, he would have made a move ages ago. "Fuck, you’re something else," he shakes his head in incredulity before confessing, "definitely not what I expected."

Y/n’s chest tingles at his comment, a rivulet of liquid glee leaking through her arteries to pump her heart and her ego full of bliss, "Oh so you expected something, did you?" She punctuates her teasing with a thousand-watts power smirk, and Harry finds it strikingly alluring.

Not about to let her have the upper hand however, a burst of smugness crosses his features as he boomerangs her earlier allurement back to her, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." It earns him a deep jazzy laugh rooted in her tummy and a tinge of pride swirling in his own. He wants to pry laugh after laugh from her belly until her last giggle, only relenting once the muscles in her chest are aching from unbridled joy.

Y/n sighs in content before taking a bite out of a mini-tartlet as she considers how to proceed in this much too flirty conversation. "So what would you be doing tonight, if not for this stupid party?" she returns his first question before realizing,  "-wait a sec, what are you doing here if you hate these things so much? My presence was mandatory but yours isn’t."

"I’ll have you know I was coerced into coming too," he quips back in a fake defensive tone, hand pressing to his chest, "Mike from accounting begged me to tag along, he just broke up with his girlfriend so I didn’t have the heart to tell him no." The selfishness of the gesture softens her heart in a goo of adoration, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Softie."

"Chivalrous."

His comeback has her giggle, a rejoinder already tiptoeing at the edge of her lips, "see, who’s cocky now?" Her eyes are full of jest and lightness, somehow taking the weight of the party off his shoulders. Turns out, food and booze are not the only remedies for boring work functions, y/n’s company is just as effective if not more, and that’s with the guarantee of a hangover-less comes next morning. Harry is truly happy he decided to make an appearance tonight, a sentiment he definitely didn’t foresee for the night. The realization has him faintly shaking his head in amazement, his lips letting out another whispered "something else" softly enough that it doesn’t quite reach her already inflated ears.

"So did you have any plans tonight?" She reiterates the question not wanting to ever stop talking with him.

There are probably a hundred exciting plans he could have conjured up to come off half as intriguing as she seems to be, but instead he decides to go the honest route, "nah, I would have probably crash on my couch, this week’s been pretty hectic." His truth is confirmed by the faded blackness tinting the skin below his eyes, a proof of hard work and long hours under the heedlessness of a greedy superior. Y/n knows it all too well, having had firsthand experience with her boss’ jackassery. That’s why she directly inquires, "boss giving you trouble?"

Part of Harry is eager to steer the conversation back to more pleasant waters but he guesses talking a little bit about work was inevitable at some point, especially since they both share palpable distaste for their superior. "The maniac keeps giving me last minute reports like I’m expected to work all night along on his bullshit projects," he explains dejectedly before running his hand through his luscious curls in sign of frustration. "Barely finished in time fo’ the party tonight, I had to slip in his office to put the file on his desk, that fucker had already left."

Y/n listens attentively, her chest tightening in empathy at the recollection of his misfortune. She’s very familiar with the embittering feeling that comes with working your ass for someone that barely registers your efforts and dishes the office hours before you can even dream of clocking off. She’s faced the same scenario time and time again, including tonight, when she’d come up to lock the boss’ office hours after he left to get pampered for the party. She barely got time to make the double commute to and from her place, much less spend hours getting dolled up. She does remember the odd file on her boss’ desk though, "oh I was wondering what that blue folder was about, he never usually leave unattended paperwork on his desk."

Harry starts nodding in confirmation before stopping dead, eyes widened in distress, "wait, did you just say blue?" he asks in urgency.

Y/n frowns at his sudden agitation, her mind reeling to try and visualize the state of the surroundings she left several hours ago. She’s pretty positive she saw a blue binder laying there, not that she knows the ramifications of that simple fact, "yes I think so, why?"

The dire nature of the situation becomes painfully obvious as Harry’s face turns into a mess of  dread and panic, "oh shit, oh fuck, no no no," the words keep tumbling from his mouth in a ramble of nerves. "So stupid, m’so fucked" he keeps muttering self-admonition in quiet anger, hands griping at the root of his hair.

Concern is starting to fester in y/n’s guts as she takes in his disheveled state, "Harry, Jesus, take a breath, tell me what’s going on," she steps closer to him, one hand softly holding at his biceps as she tries to connect their gazes.

Once his eyes plug into hers, pupils blown out in turmoil, he finally calms down enough to word  out his mishap, "s’not the right file on his desk, I only use red binders for the reports." Spinning around out of her hold to shout his stress back to the wall in a loud "fuck!", Harry’s mind is caught up in a swirl of possible excuses to give to his boss, all sounding more ridiculous than the other. He can’t think of way to fix his mistake and escape the inevitable berating coming his way comes morning.

Fortunately for him, y/n is not about to let this happen, "it’s okay, we’ll fix this," she encourages. "What’s on his desk right now?"

Harry looks back at her then, not totally convinced that this all mayhem is salvageable. His boss is never going to tolerate this minor negligence, especially once he finds out the irrelevant material mistakenly slipped amongst his work. "My 14 year-old niece’s english project" the answer comes out as a question, a hint of self-deprecating humor lacing through his words. "Bloody hell, he’s gon’ have my head fo’ that one."

Harry is adamant in his doom, but if anything, y/n is not a quitter. "No he’s not. He hasn’t seen it yet, right? You said he was already gone when you brought the file."

He takes a long breath, "I suppose not."

"Guess it’s a good thing I have the keys to his office then, yeah?" She smiles proudly as a beacon of hope shines on his conflicted face. The forest green of his eyes seems to breath back to life in an endearing revival, effectively tugging at y/n’s heart’s merciful strings.

"Fuck, you’d do that fo’ me?" his shoulders loosen up in relief, the tension slowly simmering down to a gentle buzz, as he envisages the possibility of an illicit break-in. Well, as illicit as it may be, considering they have the keys. Still, best they don’t get caught snooping in the boss’ office, for both of their sake.

"Of course, silly. No questions asked," y/n answers with a smile, and her willingness to put herself in potential trouble, warms Harry’s heart from inside out.

"Y/n, you’re an angel, a life savior," he grabs her shoulders in each of his hands, his gratitude painted all over his soft traits. "Fuck, I could kiss you right now." The words fly out of his mouth without him realizing their significance after spending the last ten minutes coming onto her. And well, y/n isn’t too opposed to the idea either, and she thinks she might hold him to that promise in retribution for her saving grace when the time and space works better in their favor. "Alright Casanova, let’s get your ass out of this mess," she grabs her purse form the table and takes his hand to guide him through the cluster of people milling around the office space, eventually reaching the row of elevators across the room.

As they stand waiting for their lift to come, Harry starts fidgeting with nervous energy, feeling like a kid who’s about to get caught trying to steal straight from the cookie jar. "Shit, alright, we have to be discrete if we want to pull this off," he tells her, not taking his eyes off the room in case someone would look at them and read their plan straight off their guilty-looking faces.

"Says the guy in the flashy suit," y/n immediately counters, in an attempt to revive the playfulness of their synergy. The night was going swimmingly before the whole ordeal, and she’s convinced this foxy little adventure can only add to the appeal of an evening full of surprises.

Harry’s indignation at her dig teeters from his pouty lips, "hey! It’s not that bad." She giggles at his poor rebuttal, and as the doors of the elevator open, they quickly take a few steps inside.

"Harry, that suit is so loud, it could break the sound barrier," y/n teases as she eyes the crowd of people frivolously chatting away, while waiting for the door to close back.

"Thought I cleaned up nicely," he cheekily throws back her words from earlier, letting them resonate within the small confines of the elevator as they make their way up to their boss’ office.

She turns to face him then, a smile spreading on her supple lips, "don’t get me wrong, you look wonderful, just nowhere near decent for a secret spy mission."

Her words have him beaming back at her in a second, his mind fixated on her compliment rather than how impractical it is that his clothes are flashier than the Queen’s; in his defense, neither are y/n’s. "Damn, just got upgraded from nice to wonderful, this night is actually turning around," he chirps as the door open to the deserted hallway of the top floor.

"Alright, more action and less flirting, Styles," y/n playfully chides him. "Go get the right file, while I open his door, we should be quick in case he decides to bring the tour and his special guest up here." She sends him off with a tilt of her chin in what she knows to be the direction of his office, and Harry complies with ease and starts backtracking a few doors down, "yes ma’am."

While he’s gone to fetch the correct document from his office, y/n rummages through her purse to find the key of her boss’ office and unlock the door. Once she’s inside, she makes her way around the imposing mahogany desk commanding the space, and finds the imposter file sitting innocently on the polished wood. For pure curiosity’s sake, she starts leafing through its contents and lets a small chuckle as she takes in the endearing work of a young aspiring writer.

Her reading is interrupted by Harry’s hurried strides when he joins her in the room. "Here’s the damn report," he flings the folder on the desk next to his niece’s, red clashing with blue, mocking him for his slight negligence. As he absorbs the sight of y/n’s face engrossed in the teenage’s fiction, he moves slowly behind her, getting a glimpse at his niece’s whimsical words over her shoulder, before his eyes settle on the bare skin of her back.

Y/n welcomes his sudden proximity, has stranding on end as she feels the soft puffs of his breaths against her neck. "Your niece is quite the writer, does she always come to you for advice?"

She ignores the shivers running down her spine, and gulps when Harry’s voice greets her ears in a deep quiet hoarse, closer than she excepted, "usually, yeah. I was the one who got her into writing, so it’s kinda become our thing, I guess."

She smiles at his softness, "that’s really sweet," and draws in a long breath in a vain attempt to calm her jitters. She can almost feel his presence on her skin though they’re technically not touching, her fingertips tingling in anticipation.  

Another frisson travels through her when he responds with a low "mhm," his nose slightly grazing behind her ear, taking in her beguiling fragrance. Jasmine and vanilla, fresh and soft, exciting and comforting at the same time; it suits her perfectly.

"Harry-" she doesn’t know what to follow the whisper of his name with. Careful? Not here? Please don’t stop? At this point, she wants nothing more than to succumb to his affections, regardless of their improper whereabouts.

Harry brushes the back of his index down the smooth skin of her back in a featherlike caress, "thanks fo’ saving my ass, tonight," he murmurs into her ear, before laying a small kiss behind it.

Y/n is exulting under his tender ministrations, her eyes closed to enhance the feeling of his touch. "Anytime," she breathes out as her head tilts backward, a hand coming behind his neck in a silent plea not to let go, and Harry smiles against her skin at her receptiveness, goosebumps of his own blossoming across his body.

His next words are out of his mouth before he can think, "mmm, I owe you a big one," his playful persona resurfacing now that the situation was handled. They snort in unison at the double-entendre, and Harry slides his free arm around her waist to bring her closer to his chest in silent remittance. Y/n doesn’t mind though, she kinda likes this boyish side of him, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Gross."

"Hilarious."

Their ping-pong of wisecrack is back despite the tension permeating the air. It’s the kind that speeds heartbeats and moistens palms in lustful anticipation, the kind that curtails people’s breath as their lungs fill up with voluptuous aphrodisia. "Will you let me kiss you? Show you all my gratitude? I really wanna have a taste, love," he pleads for her permission, and y/n is too consumed by desire to deny him, "have it."

In one swift move, he spins around and latches his eager lips onto her. Passion ensues, hands roaming all over each other to find the perfect hold; the back of a neck, the lapels of a suit jacket, a few strands of hair, the curve of an exposed ribcage, it’s all intoxicating but there is always more to explore. Their tongues are caught up in a heated tango of their own, swirling around each other to quench the thirst of passion, licking their lustful way around their mouths.

At one point, Y/n finds herself pressed against her boss’ desk, one leg around Harry’s waist as he attaches his hips to hers in a heated embrace that leaves them breathless upon parting. He rests his forehead against her temple as they both process the intimate exchange, not ready to burst out of this fairy bubble. "Fuck, been waiting to do that for a while," he exhales with a smile, still incredulous at the evening’s proceedings, and the girl nestled in his arms.

"Same," she agrees and gently cups his face to bring his eyes back to hers, barely believing the adoration and warmth swimming within his lovely olive irises.

Harry’s heart feels like a ticking bomb about to implode, the sweet taste of her lips already providing him with a fix he didn’t know he was addicted to. "One more," he demands against her mouth before diving into another searing kiss. This time his hands explore more meticulously, scavenging for other soft spots to add on to his mental list. The dimples in her back right above the curve of her ass seem to rival the area at her side right below the swell of her breast, but Harry is pretty sure he’ll find more sensitive spots in the near future. Hopefully.

Once again, the need for oxygen compels them to part way, but neither of them make a move to separate their tangled limbs. Y/n is reveling in the moment she’s been daydreaming about for months, "so good," she keeps whispering sweet nothing against his lips while rubbing her nose against the bridge of his.

Harry clears his throat as he regains his bearings, realizing that there are still very much in the middle of their boss’ office, a place they are not supposed to be in, doing stuff they’re not supposed to be doing. At least not here. "Let’s get outta here, yeah?" he brushes a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, "you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and I’ll tend to yours once we’re back at my place, what’dya say?"

And well, how can one say no to that?

➪ Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #Harry fic #harry styles au #ofc #reader insert #coworker!harry #office au #fluff #flirting #harry styles fluff

[dappersheep]

Food Fantasy: An Analysis on what killed a Golden Goose (3/3)

Ladies and gentlemen, we've arrived at our final destination.

Again before we start, we have our obligatory disclaimers. I do not own the game or its characters, nor do I claim to know the true history and likely fate of this game. I am entitled to the thoughts and opinions written within this post. Feel free to agree or disagree with the points being made.

This post also remains untagged from the main foofan tag. Only my followers will see this.

We are in the third and final stretch, and the checkpoint is past the cut.

Community

So... here we are, fellow Master Attendants.

As consumers of this piece of entertainment media, we are free to enjoy it however we wish. Appreciating what is there, creating something new from what exists, playing the game by the meta or however you want to play it (within your means and at your own risk of course). There's no one true and absolute way to experience the game.

However, just as you can enjoy something, doesn't mean you can't also point out flaws or shortcomings of the media in question. As an active veteran player, I've already pointed out the many gameplay design flaws  already. And I'd be pretty dumb to say that Food Fantasy's writing is perfect. Hell, it has a lot of holes from a worldbuilding consistency standpoint. 

And what of things from the community side? Yes, there will be times you'd see content you consider cringe, or something in fanon you don't agree with. Or there happens to be fan theories and fangirling posts you don't like the take of because of X or Y.

And that's fine. If we all happen to play the same way, like the same thing, agree on the same thing and produce the same thing, well, this would be one helluva boring community, wouldn't it?

But what if someone decides the way you're playing the game is wrong and harasses you over it? What happens if someone decides that their interpretation of the game's flavor text and lore is more important than what anyone else thought about it? What happens if someone decides that they're absolutely right, and you and everyone else who disagrees deserves to be bullied out of the fandom?

As much as I want to say we aren't part of the problem why the game is deteriorating, we are unfortunately, part of the reason why the game is as such even if most of the blame is directed towards Funtoy and Elex themselves.

⦁ Whale Authority. Whales will always be part of a gacha game's ecosystem. Without them, the game won't be able to maintain its upkeep costs, moreso  for one that services global regions instead of just one. But when a game decides to cater its decisions of what features should be prioritized and when it should be launched around only its most elite paying players' voices  -even if that influence has since tapered off-, you know there is something wrong with the publisher's management team and priorities.

⦁ Interguild drama. While I did not personally follow any of this, this has certainly been the peak of in-game tension back in the day. Poaching good players from both competitive and smaller guilds, guild mergers that often ended up making the annexed guild/s the equivalent of UK colonized India or Australia, suck-ups chummying up to guild leaders to keep a spot in an active, high ranking guild (for bragging rights!) despite never contributing much to overall damage, and just general dislike of certain players' attitudes. Actions like this have disillusioned many players about their playing experience and the reason why many eventually just lost the motivation to log into FooFan.

⦁ Cheaters. You know very well about the Hacker-teme I've mentioned before, but that was in context of Elex being incompetent with dealing with them. Here, I would like  to point out the players who are desperate to dominate  the playing field for whatever reason to the point that they would resort to cheating the ranks with forceful modifications of the APK. Whether it is to rank high in catacombs weekly, get a top spot in daily disaster damage, or weasel their way into the competitive whale ranks of a major ranking event, these are the people who have no qualms messing with the code to give themselves an easier time with the game. And if they're caught? Some pretend that they've made a mistake, some quickly sell the account to escape the blame, some others just scamper away into the dark and hide in the lower ranks where they can't be found. Others simply don't care and keep cheating until Elex decides to finally ban them... if Elex ever decides their rebates score isn't worth saving the account.

⦁ Ship wars. Ah yes, a staple of drama in any fandom. There doesn't need much explanation to this as we've all had our fair share of running into a battleground in whatever fandom we visit. Someone ships BB52 wholeheartedly? Nope, problematic 'age gaps'. Someone likes Napoleon with Pastel? Someone's bound to misinterpret their bios in order to justify that Napoleon was being abusive. Spaghetti and Borscht? Borscht is minor coded, ship her with Vodka instead. Whiskey and Pizza or Cassata? Cancelled! And I've never heard of the Foe Yay trope or pretend I don't know about it! Rarepairs? Disgusting! No fanon in my canon playground! Turkey and Eggnog? Gasp! How dare you, you pedo-shipper-even-though-you-never-said-you-shipped-them-romantically-but-that-isn't-my-point!

⦁ Character Obsession: Bias. On one hand, you love a character so much. Relate to a character so much. You have thus pulled this character into the folds of your bosom and coo at them like a mother dove and get so minutely triggered if someone so much as makes one disagreeable or joking comment about the character that you fly into an overreactive ballistic rage that would make a Canadian goose honk in fear. You don't care what they are in canon. You don't care about the possibility of mistranslation. What matters is the fanon space you carved out for them to exist in and that's all that matters. The problem with this is when this obsession takes over common sense and social etiquette and it steps into harassment territory. You begin to think: I'm the only one who 'understands' the character. I'm the only one who wishes better for the character, everyone else is out to defame them! Oh wait, you like them too? Do you like them the way *I* like them? No? Maybe if you're my 'friend', I'd let it slide. But to everyone else? No one else has the right to like them as much as I do. No one! Never mind that they're completely fictional- No one hurts my bias because in turn, they're hurting *me*!

⦁ Character Obsession: Anti. On the other hand, you hate a character so much. This character just makes you see so much red. Their smug little smirk just makes your blood boil. Their fictional backstory makes you recoil in disgust. You hate that someone else loves a character you hate so much.  You cannot *believe* that someone could be so daringly stupid to like a problematic character. They must be problematic too then. They must be hiding real life secrets that are problematic! Yes, yes. That's right. That person's a supporter of abuse. That person's into pedophilia. That person is into military lolita fashion that Japan started the trend of but clearly Japan was part of the Axis Powers! And that... that person... that person... is a roleplayer and a yaoi fangirl properly interacting with minors and adults. How dare they...!

⦁ Fan Translations.  Normally it wouldn't be a problem that a group or two or several are translating pieces of the game's lore ahead of the official. But with Elex's very delayed translations and extreme allergic reactions to translating Food Soul bios, people have become dependent on fan-translation groups to get their fix. The problem herein lies... is when the translators get drunk off the power that they are one of a handful in a small community who can magically transcribe the oriental moonrunes into English. The problem starts when the translator starts to have an inclination. The problem starts when the translator loses their professional detachment and start adding in details here and there into the fan translated product that ultimately changes the meaning and direction of the entire story. The problem is also escalated when that translator's embellished product is touted as the truth by their followers. If there was an upcoming character whose backstory is connected to a character they hated (either because of someone or they just don't like the character) and you were hoping to read the fan translation? How would you know that what you get isn't something doctored to the point it's basically fanfiction?

⦁ Social Justice Vigilantism. Sometimes someone does not have a character obsession or need it to be annoying. Sometimes, someone just wants to ring the alarm over something they find 'problematic' in order to police and sanitize the enjoyment of the media for 'everyone'. They no longer really take enjoyment out of a new Food Soul design being leaked, they no longer read the lore just to enjoy what it has to offer. Instead, they nitpick bits and pieces of the design and point it out repeatedly as a reason why the whole thing is bad. They point out bits of the story and inject their interpretations of it without really comprehending what they've read in full and react badly to it. What's worse is that they have no qualms publicly posting their reactions and eagerly and hungrily await those likes and echoes of agreement that they were right.

⦁ Circles of Influence. Everyone has a group they eventually gravitate to in a fandom. It comes with its own pros and cons. Sometimes you join a group because someone you admire is in there, sometimes you join a group because you just want to mingle and see more content. All valid reasons. Arguments can't be avoided in a group, it has to happen... But you have to take care. You have to take care to feel the change in the air of the group. When someone starts pushing people to agree with them. When your most admired people start to feel overly sensitive about certain characters or issues. When you start to feel obligated to spy on other groups outside of this one for 'nonbelievers', 'traitors' and 'heretics' who do not think the way this group does, and that bringing back bits and pieces of gossip as offerings would somehow make you more favored in the eyes of the inner clique or remain inside it. There is a gripping sense of annoyance when that person comes in to complain but you can't do anything about it but nod and agree. There is a pervading sense of fear and apprehension of overstepping an invisible boundary. There is fear that you might be next on the chopping block, after witnessing one of the others being ganged up on and thrown out without a second thought, their name spat upon like they're worth less than dirt. And so reluctant you are to give up what you have with them that when they push you to do something you are reluctant to do, all in the name of 'harmony and justice'... You do it. Even though it would mean offering yourself up to the mob with no salvation, and the stark realization that... [they] never cared about you as a friend.

And we've come to the end of this analysis trilogy. The writing got a little bit strange in this post, but honestly this is the best way I could put it. I'm aware things can and will be more complicated than the bullet points I've written but I'm just one person and I tried very hard to keep details of all the drama that happened in this fandom as vague as possible. Of course, that wouldn't work if you know what I am talking about.

The community is quiet now for the most part, the game is somewhere between limbo and the living plane. Things could be better for us, but I don't really count on it.

I wish I could leave a bit of a moral warning or something. But rather than do that, I just hope this was an entertaining read into one individual's eyes into Food Fantasy and everything that makes it up.

#ravings of a madman #food fantasy but not tagged right

[hlupdate]

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”

#harry styles #variety #021220

[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate- Prologue

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 2.8K words

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warning: None really, just a little cursing

Author’s note: I had been listening to Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan and that is actually the primary spark which led me to come up with this series. Shout out to @mvalentine and @anotherbeingsworld fo letting me bounce my crazy ideas <3

AHHH so it is finally here!! This is my first time writing Bryce so I hope I can do justice to this beautiful man. This starts with Aisha’s (MC) POV and like I said, there will be a time jump. It would be first person when I’m writing in the past and then it will shift to third person when I’m writing the present. I think i should stop my rambling and let’s go!!

Terms you need to know-

-Bhaiya: Brother in hindi

-Beta: Technically it means ‘son’ but in most Indian families its used like a term of endearment too

- AIIMS, Delhi: Stands for All India Institute of Medical Sciences. This is one of the best medical schools in the country and Only 100 people out of 200,000(or more) get in. So it is very cut throat.

10 years ago- Aisha's PoV 

(Age: 16)

I am done.

Done with all the drama, done with all the lies, done with all the manipulations and done with all the heartache.

And most of all, I was done with him- the infamous Bryce Lahela. 

The boy with the stupid long hair, the stupid signature smirk and the stupid charm. Those amber eyes which reminded you of the sand and sea and those lips on which an everlasting smile played used to be like a breath of fresh air. I always thought that he was so unique, but boy was I wrong. 

All boys are the same.

I really thought that jocks like him would be different huh? Can someone just hand me my clown shoes?

But luckily, I don't have to see his face ever again because for once, instead of making a mockery of my existence, life decided to give me something that I really wanted badly.

A chance to leave all of this in my past. A chance to start over again.

My dad had a better business opportunity back in Mumbai. I am an Indian and we lived in Delhi since the time I was born but we shifted to Mauii when I was in the ninth grade because of how demanding dad's job was getting

Bhaiya chose to stay back in Delhi because his engineering college was there and he enjoyed the hostel life way too much. And he had finally managed to get out of our toxic household so I really could not blame him.

So yeah.. that is how I ended up in Maui in the first place.

It was okay in ninth grade. I kept to myself and blended in with the shadows (because hello social anxiety!). But... Tenth grade changed everything.

It was one of the best and worst year of my life and I often wonder if I could ever get over this.

I am definitely sounding like one of those over-dramatic Indian soap operas my mom watches every night.

"Aisha? Are you ready? The car is here beta."

"Yes, Mama. I am coming!! Just packing up some stuff."

Breaking out of my reverie, I stuffed in my phone and other essentials into my carry bag. As I was zipping up my luggage, I yanked open my closet door to see if I left anything behind my eyes landed on the shoebox I had stuffed in the back of my closet.

I gulped and I felt tears well up in my eyes again. A part of me wanted to take it for it had all the trinkets of the good things in my relationship with Bryce but, another part of me knew that if I took it with me, I would never be able to move on and that would completely defeat the purpose of this fresh start I have been looking forward to.

So with a heavy heart, I looked away and shut the door of the closet, picked up my luggage and left.

As the Uber pulled out of the curb I stared out of the window, to look at the beaches I had come to love and hate.

I liked Maui, I really did but all that it was reduced was a place where I was humiliated and belittled.

And it was all his fault.

PRESENT

(Age: 27)

"Oh my god. I'm gonna late!!" Aisha screeched as she saw the time on her phone. She shoved the duvet off her and jumped out of bed. She tried running to the bathroom in her small closet-sized apartment but it just ended up with her stubbing her toe against the coffee table.

"Ow ow ow." She cursed as she hobbled into the washroom and got on with her daily chores. Her hand-eye coordination was already awful and add that she was sleep deprived just made the entire thing worse. Stumbling, tripping, cursing she managed to brush her teeth and hop into the shower. The burst of cold water managed to wake her up as she furiously washed.

Why did I have to move into a room under a busy staircase?! This is why bhaiya says- Do your research. She angrily thought to herself as she wiped herself rigorously and zipped open her suitcase, searching for her semi-formal clothes.

Grabbing a granola bar and her trusty thermos of coffee, she was on her way to Edenbrook.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As she entered the atrium, she was in complete awe. It looked big and majestic on the outside, with a clever mix of brick walls and the glass facade, making it look welcoming. Sunshine poured through the atrium as the various doctors and nurses worked around her, not giving mind to the clueless intern gawking.

"Hi, I'm Dr Ines Delarosa, a senior resident!! You look lost. Let me guess... the first day of residency?" A short woman in a doctor's coat walked up to her breaking Aisha from her awe, her aura full of happiness, rainbows and unicorns which made Aisha a little vary.

Is it normal to be this happy and energetic?

Aisha nodded hesitantly and the resident smiled a hundred-watt smile. "Great. You are gonna need a photo ID. Follow me, I will get you all set up." Wordlessly Aisha followed Ines, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, nervously playing with the strap.

It is going to be fine... Aisha breathed out as she entered a room with a white background and a camera before it. "Just step over here, in front of the camera and smile."

And waste my energy? No thanks.

She schooled her features to be as professional as she could and the flash of the camera went off. Aisha walked over the tangled wires and peeked at the screen. A serious face stared back at her, the lighting doing good to her brown skin. Her nose piercing caught light and her dark mahogany hair was tied up in a neat ponytail.

"Is it okay? Or do I need to retake the photo?"

"No, it is great! I like it. Thank you."

"Well I will just stick this on your ID.... and you are good to go!! I wish I looked that good in my ID." She said and cheerfully and once her eyes fell on the title a smile made its way on her face,

Dr Aisha Khurrana... It is real and it is true.

"My first day as a real doctor." she whistled lowly shaking her head as if she didn't believe it.

"I was in your shoes last year. Believe me, med school was nothing compared to this. Your three years of residency will be the toughest, most amazing year of your life!! But the first year as an intern will be the craziest of all."

As soon as the smile had graced her features, it slipped away and she nodded seriously. "I think I am ready for it. I have been dreaming and slogging my ass so that I could work in Edenbrook. Ever since I learnt that Ethan Ramsey worked here. His research basically pushed me to apply for med school."

Also, the fact that my parents can like shut up about me being worthless.

"That is great. I will just walk you to the locker room so that you can change into scrubs." Ines offered and Aisha gave her a small smile.

"So... Any advice?"

"Make friends..."

And I am out. She thought to herself. She always struggled with making friends and that is partly the reason why she would keep to herself all the time. Sure she did make a few gem of a friends in med school but if she had to choose between mingling with strangers and drowning, you know what she would choose.

"... with your interns, year senior residents, even your patients! Friends will get you through anything. And, uh, try to not annoy the Attendings! You do not want to get on your boss's bad side."

"Noted."

After changing she was just passing through the waiting room so that she could get to the orientation when she heard gasps from the seating area. A woman had collapsed on her seat and the people were crowding around her.

Her instincts kicked in and she ordered. "Give her space. Everybody step back! I'm a doctor."

She hurried over to the woman just as another doctor rushes in. He kneeled at her side and checked her pulse. "Pulse is weak. She's unresponsive." He looked up and his eyes landed on her.

"You Rookie. Get here."

"Right away doctor. Coming!" Aisha hurried over as the doctor lifted the fainted woman on to the nearby gurney.

"What was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?"

"No, she'd just walked in."

The doctor's piercing blue eyes landed on her which made her straighten her back. "If we don't figure out what's wrong with her fast, she's going to die on this table. Rookie, check B.P."

Wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the unconscious woman's arm and she pumped the bulb, peering at the numbers.

"It's plummeting. She's hypotensive. We've gotta get fluids in her."

Aisha's eyes wandered over the woman's form, trying to search for more clues. Her eyes landed on the rapidly forming bruise on her elbow.

"Doctor... Look at this bruise. I think it's a sign that she is a haemophiliac."

The doctor replied in a gruff voice. "You think or you know?"

"I know."

"Good. Also can you see the way her fingertips are turning blue? It is a sign of low oxygen saturation in the blood. Take a closer listen to her lungs. Hurry."

She nodded assertively and slipped the resonator of the stethoscope over the ribs, straining to hear the diminishing whooshing of the lungs which made Aisha gulp in fear.

"Can't hear anything on the left side and the right side is struggling. She is going to suffocate at this rate." She spoke up , her voice struggling to stay calm but as she glanced at the older doctor, he seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

"Nurse we have got a code blue." His authoritative voice boomed over as the nurses bustled around the gurney.

Taking the bag mask from the nurse, he secured it around the patient's mouth and gently pump air into her lungs.

"What do we do, Doctor? What's happening to her?" She asked as she noticed the reducing breath rate.

He looked up. "Consider all the clues. It's all there. You know this, Rookie."

Aisha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, realigning her focus, delving deep into her mind, analyzing the clues.

Hemophilia... low blood oxygen... no lung expansion on one side...

Her brown eyes snapped open as it struck her. "It's a haemothorax!"

A twinkle of approval flickered in the ocean eyes, which vanished as soon as it came. "Precisely. A blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity..."

"... Blocking her lungs from expanding! That's why she can't breathe." Aisha completed the sentence.

Fuck.

"But we can't repair the blood vessel over here."

The older doctor's jaw clenched. "Then we will have to do a emergency thoracotomy to drain the cavity instead. Nurse!"

The nurse hustles around handing her a scalpel and a chest tube, her eyes widening in shock.

She gulped, her nervousness spiking as she sees the doctor lift the shirt of the patient, exposing the side of her rib cage.

"We need a local anaesthetic-"

The doctor interrupted her. "We're out of time and she is already unconscious. Do it now, or the woman's life is on you!!"

She gritted her teeth with determination. I am not loosing a patient on my first day.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. It is just like anatomy class only... this isn't a cadaver but a real person.

But that statement, instead of calming her, it just caused the scalpel to shake in her hand.

The doctor reaches and encompasses her hand. "Hey... You can do this."

Aisha nods stabilizing herself and focusing solely on the older doctor's voice, before she looked down.

"There you go... Nice and easy."

Incision at the fifth intercostal space... anterior.. to the mid axillary line...

And when she was confident enough, she made the perfect incision, a trickle of red following the path of the scalpel.

"Now the tube."

She took and pushed it into the incision and with a spurt, blood started draining out of the chest cavity resulting in the patient to take a deep breath.

Holy shit I did that. I freaking did that.

In the daze of endorphins, she heard the doctor order her surgery, the nurses wheeling the gurney and the onlookers applauding.

She turned towards the attending, excitement pouring out of her in waves. "Doctor.. that was absolutely amazing!!"

It's was as if a switch flipped and the grumpier and sarcastic facade took place. "You're right. It is pretty amazing you didn't get her killed."

Aisha's jaw dropped.

"Wait, what?"

The doctor rambled off, pointing out her mistakes. "Your examination was slow and superficial. Your scalpel technique, amateur at best."

It took all her might to not scoff. 

Excuse me I graduated from AIIMS Delhi, thank you very much.

 Swallowing the dying need to go off she spoke in a professional tone. "Amateur? I'm sorry, doctor but it is my first day."

"Well, that is not an excuse you can use because if that patient would have died, the blood would have been on your hands..." He lifted the badge attached to her breast pocket scrutinizing on the surname.

"... Khurrana."

He tossed the id back to her, turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a steaming Aisha in her place.

"What a dick." She muttered under her breath.

"Yeah and I'm totally in love with him." A nurse appeared magically out of thin air near her, causing her to jump in surprise.

The kind eyed nurse just rolled his eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder which had Aisha bristling. "Don't worry about it, Dr Ramsey is like that to everybody."

Aisha's jaw dropped for the second time. "Wait... Dr. Ramsey as in Dr. Ethan Ramsey?!"

Shooting a knowing glance, he spoke up. "I take it, you're a fan?"

"He's only my medical hero and greatest inspiration. I've read all his research!" Aisha rushed off, horror and excitement rushing through her.

Oh my god I managed to piss of my one medical hero.. I'm such a dumbass.

Noticing the horror of her expression he gave a gentle smile. "On the bright side, you'll get plenty more chances to impress him."

She sighed and looked down to see that her scrubs were stained with blood.

First impression is last impression beta, always remember that. Her father's voice resonated in her mind.

"Dammit, I'm here for five minutes and I'm already a mess. I can't show up to orientation like this!"

"Don't sweat it. There are extras in the locker room. Come I will show you the way..."

She walked into the locker room, looking for her assigned locker. There was a crowd of half naked interns and after mumbling a couple of 'excuse me's', and rubbing shoulders (literally) she made it the end of the room.

As she turned she knocked into another woman in nothing but her undergarments.

"Uh...um.. okay then." Aisha stuttered as she felt the back of her neck heating up.

Thanks to my brown skin no one can see me getting flustered.

"What? See something you like?" She asked cheekily in an Indian accent which eased Aisha up a bit.

"Ha, you wish."

"Aren't you cute?" The woman snickered as she reached for her pants.

"That's what people say, so it must be true."

She reached for her full sleeve shirt before looking Aisha's way. "Desi?"

Aisha snorted. "Obviously. And I'm guessing you too."

"Of course. And I'm guessing that you are definitely not wearing those scrubs."

"What? Didn't you hear? Bloody clothes are like the new trend around here."

There was a moment of silence before both of them started laughing.

"It's good to meet someone from home." Aisha spoke as she pulled her scrub shirt off.

"Woah, woah, woah. Don't count on that yet. I need to see if you are gonna get in my way in this competition."

Aisha smirked as she shut her locker. "Can't say I'm surprised. Can't be desi if the sense of competition isn't ingrained in your DNA."

"Oh my god never thought that I would see Jackie's twin." A familiar manly voice wafted over to them.

Wait a second...

"Shut up scalpel jockey, this is our kind of bonding."

"Oh please, don't scare the newbie aw- oh."

Oh.

She was standing right in front of him. Face to face. The playful amber eyes, with flecks of brown hadn't changed. The long shoulder length hair had been cut and styled to be short and messy.

There was no trace of the surfer boy she met in Maui. He was a man through and through but still, the youth in his eyes poured out in waves, reminding her of the sandy beaches.

But right now those amber eyes were wide with shock.

It's not everyday that you meet your ex of ten years in the locker room of your new job.

"Aisha?"

".... Bryce?!"

HEHEHEH AWKWAARRDDD

Like, comment, reblog and let me know what you think 

Bryce X MC: @lilyvalentine @sanchita012 @zeniamiii @lucy-268 @have-aheart @utterlyinevitable @anotherbeingsworld @this-person-is-busy @cryinginthebackseat @mayascherub @jaxsmutsuo @rookie-ramsey @aylamreads @caseyvalentineramsey @choicesalaska​

Permanent Tag list: @trappedinfandoms  @agent-breakdance​ @dailydoseofchoices​ @colossalpainintheass​ @siaramsey​ @raleigheffingcarrera​ @kaavyaethanramsey​ @theeccentricbibliophile​ @ac27dj​ @ramseysno1rookie​ @justanotherrookie​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @checkurwindow​ @chasingrobbie​ @junggoku​ @bellcat2010​ @choicesstan1​ @mvalentine​ @crazynutella​ @hatescapsicum​ @dr-ramseys-rookie​ @lilypills​ @vampireblissblog​ @decadentwinnerjudgedream​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @nooruleman​ @anonymously-cool​ @sanvivrma

#anushka writes #oh bryce #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #open heart bryce #open heart #open heart mc #open heart fanfiction #open heart fandom #choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry #Aisha Khurrana #a funny thing called fate

[hldailyupdate]

This Charming Man: Why We’re Wild About Harry Styles

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”

Harry for Variety. (2 December 2020)

#harry styles #harry update #article #variety #hldaily #December 2020

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.19

a/n: so... uhh... nothing much happens here but the last part is worth it :’) i guess? hope ya’ll like this nonetheless! 

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 20

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​  @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

Two days since that fated encounter with Chronostasis, you were now left with a vacant rest day. And where better place to spend it than with Dr. Hanayaka. Setting an appointment with him, as he liked to call it, you were tasked to help with the blood pressure for each patient he had. Luckily, his schedule wasn’t that straining.

“So you mean to say, his henchman met with you in secret?” Gei asked and raised an eyebrow. With his stethoscope resting on his shoulder and white coat on, it was sometimes hard to believe that this flamboyant man was a well respected doctor. “And handed you trash man’s sim card?”

“Yeah. I’ve already checked the contents of the sim and there’s not a lot to go on.” Aside from your messages, the contents of his inbox were that of an average man’s. Expecting some tea about his trade or even important numbers of other villains, you had to think whether or not Chrono deleted some or not.

“And what about that plan of yours, hmm?” Gei fixed his eyelashes before staring back at you. “What if it backfires and Chrono takes the blame?”

“He won’t. My instructions were clear and I set a time frame as well. Just something to please the heroes for setting me up.”

“You movin over to the dark side, baby girl?”

“Just balancing things out.” You shrugged. “Levi made it clear that they shouldn’t interfere with my relationship with Overhaul. Even though I’m on justice’s side, I still want to tip the scales a bit due to personal reasons.”

“Wouldn’t your badge and title be removed if they found out? And why in Todrick’s name are you so chill with this topic?! Are you certain you don’t have a bug on you?” Your friend eyed you down so quickly. Worried that policemen might end up barging inside his office.

“Don’t worry. I’m wearing new clothes so there’s no way they can. Besides, I’m being as cautious as ever. Seriousness aside, I do have some information you might want to feast on.” You smirked at the mental image of a maskless Chrono.

“Spill…” Gei shifted in his seat and leaned in closer. The look on your face only meant one thing.

“Okay, so Overhaul’s right hand man was the one who met me right? Well~ He took off his mask and I will have to admit the man looked hella fine~”

“Describe! Describe!”

“For starters, he has bluish-gray eyes. Though he looks like he wants to kill a person right there and then, he probably could since his jaw was rather prominent. His voice without the mask is different too.” You watched as Gei listened with such focus. “But, if I were to be honest, describing him doesn’t do him good. He looks really handsome.”

“Why is it always the villains who look good?” Gei commented with a pout. “Hawks aside, because that man is something else, but they just hit different you know?”

“That’s true. Shame they have to wear those masks, though.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s good that they do. Otherwise they’d have to endure the wrath of fan girls.”

“Right. Also feels good when they trust you enough to show what’s behind the mask.” Nodding at your own statement, the memory of having lunch with Overhaul came back. With no given warning, he took off his mask and casually drank water. Realizing that he had done it on purpose, a tiny smile formed on your mouth.

“If you miss him that bad, just call him.”

“He changed numbers and I’m not that desperate to ask Chrono for it. Nao said in due time he’ll contact me but the chances of that are negative.”

“Honey, it’s the modern era. Women aren’t as shy as they were before. If you want something, go and get it. If it is a guy’s new number, then go ahead. It’s not just men who make the first move. And besides, I think Overhoe would be surprised if you just suddenly ring his doorbell.”

“You do realize, I do not have the same confidence as you.”

“Fake it till you make it, boo.” He snapped his fingers in a z-formation.

“You’ve been watching Soopernatural again, haven’t you?”

“Okay, first off, Jenred Padackles is a god and I would worship his feet. Second, that show has references to everything and you can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Standing up from the sofa, you stretched your limbs. “Anyway, I gotta scram.”

“Where you headin’ off to missy?”

“I have to meet up with Nao regarding the Fukuo Kai case.”

“But it’s your day off. Get a life and do something else other than work, (n/n).” Gei threw a pen to your direction but you dodged it effortlessly. “Don’t make me tell your father.”

“It’s only for a few minutes. It’s in preparation for tomorrow.” Not bothering to wait, you exited the room and sofly closed the doors to his office. Time spent with Gei was always an eye opener. However, it still wasn’t enough for you to stoop so low and ring his doorbell.

Making your way out of the hospital, you took a quick stop to the vending machines and chose a cold cafe au lait. Perfect for the hot and humid weather Japan had to offer. Feeling the cold liquid running down your throat was amazing and within seconds, you downed the whole drink. Tossing the empty bottle to the recycle bin, a gust of wind caused you to lose balance.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“I have a meeting to attend to Hawks.” Hawks took his visors off and ruffled his wings. Offering to buy him a drink, he chose a tetra pack of  apple juice. Walking to the vacant bench, you followed him and decided that perhaps his visit would be worth it. “So what did the bird hear today?”

“Twice and Toga Himiko.”

“League of-” Then it hit you. “I see. Since when?”

“Yesterday. One of my informants saw them entering the base and left late at night. They didn’t look too happy about it, though.” Lowering his headphones, he ruffled his hair and stared at the clear blue skies. “Do what you will with this information. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“How and why do you even bother?”

“I work for the HPSC dove. If I don’t want them getting in my head, I gotta kick their crotches first.”

“That’s not the best analogy.”

“Still works though.” He winked and put on his headphones and visors back. Standing up, he offered a hand and you accepted it. Tailing you, Hawks was now opening the door for your car. “And one more thing, another of my birdies caught the scent of the quirk erasing bullets nearing its completion stages. Probably 80% now.”

“That’s fast.” You had to admit.

“Heard he’s been pissed. Be careful baby bird.” Hawks closed your door and saluted before flying off.

80%? That was enough information to speed up the Shie Hassaikai raid. Reaching out for your bag, you took the burner phone you recently purchased and reread each message the both of you exchanged. With two League of Villains now part of the yakuza, the possibility of casualties was much higher now.

Within minutes, you were now on the road. Fingers tightly wrapping the steering wheel. Your thumb bouncing with growing guilt at choosing to hide what Hawks had just said. Of course this wasn’t to ensure his victory, it was to even the field, right? It was the pettiness taking over you and Nighteye going against his words. It had to be.

Turning towards the precinct, you saw your designated parking area. The basement parking was a bit crowded today.

Heading towards the meeting room Tsukauchi had prepared for the small info sharing, you greeted fellow coworkers and kept conversation till you disappeared around the corner. Not too long after, you were now fiddling with your fingers. Basking in the silence till the doors opened revealing your partner and Shinezu. Both men took their seats and commenced the meeting.

“So, Shinezu will be tagging along.” He nodded at your coworker who seemed to be trembling at the thought. “It’ll do you good, Shinez. Trust me.”

“I-I know, Tsukau-kun.” He adjusted his tie, loosening it a bit. “I just think I’m not cut out for this mission you know? I do better behind the scenes.”

“While I believe that’s true, the 4th division works best when you’re around.”

“That’s true.” You agreed. Shinezu may not be the most social cookie out there but his brain was close to Namase. He also had the knack of coming up with solutions when things went wrong. All he needed was to amp his social skills. “We all know the 4th division leader is weak for you.”

“Not t-true.”

“All too true. You’ll be fine, Shinez. Have I ever lied to you?”

When the raven-haired man finally nodded his head, Tsukauchi cleared his throat and relayed the plans for tomorrow. It was the standard undercover data gathering in your books.

“So, to recap, the 4th division will be handling the snooping and we’ll remain on guard should all else fail?” You repeated the information given. Tsukauchi scratched his chin and nodded. Confirming that you had fully understood his message. “All this should happen within 5 hours. Got it. That’s quite cramped but manageable.”

“5 hours was the only allotted time I could fit in.” He scratched his nape and looked away. “You were right when I had to take it slow with my cases.”

“I’m not one to comment~” Waving the conversation aside, you stood up and the others followed.

With the short meeting now over, Tsukauchi and you were now seated in the break room. Cups of coffee present as you exchanged more information about your days and current mission. For a brief moment, despite him not being a part of the Shie Hassaikai Raid, you wanted to pour every single information you had just gained from Hawks. The lingering guilt was much more present now.

“You’re spacing out.” He snapped his fingers in front of you. “You alright?”

“Aside from the growing problem of trashman, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Taking a sip from your coffee, the usual taste of bitterness was strong today. “Nothing to worry about~”

“You should go home, (n/n). I already took up a portion of your time. Any more and I might drown from embarrassment.”

“That’s gross. Even coming from you.” Kicking him from under the table, the two of you laughed before chugging the remaining drops of coffee. “I will take that offer though. Need me some beauty sleep before shit happens again. See ya!”

Hours had passed and you were now stuffing your face with chips. He was right when he said you had purchased too much but you weren’t complaining. The movie playing now was one of your favorites, Prisoner. Gake Jyllenhall was divine in this movie. It was always the twist of the movie that kept you watching it over and over again.

“I wonder if we had watched this… would the wall pinning  happen?” You thought out loud. Shaking your thoughts away from him, you stopped the movie and stored the chips.

Now that you were settled in bed, Overhaul’s jacket rested on top of you. By now, his scent had disappeared and was now replaced by yours. Grabbing your phone, you opened the messaging app and clicked on a certain conversation. Rereading his messages was not the best idea but at least you would be able to relive whatever memories you had created.

Glancing at your desk calendar, in just two months time, you would meet him again. Would things still be the same? Or would things go back to the way they were? Tucking your phone under the unused pillow, you willed yourself to sleep and surprisingly succeeded.

Waking up not so refreshed happened again. But, nothing out of the ordinary. Not being a morning person, you dragged your body away from the bed and began the necessary clothes. Deciding to just buy breakfast, it took you less than an hour to lock your doors and head over to the parking lot.

Making your way up the steps, you met up with Shinezu.

“You look like shit, Shinez.” You teased him. “Take a chill pill.”

“I already did. But it’s still not working. This would be the first case in a while where I’ll interact with others.” Leading the way, the both of you were now walking through the empty hallways. The sounds of your footsteps muffled by the cheap carpeted floors. “How do you guys even manage to survive situations like these?”

“By taking it one step at a time~” Not the best advice for someone who’s socially challenged but it is what it is.

Opening the doors for you, the both of you entered the room and took your designated seats. A bunch of people from the 4th division were now present. Tsukauchi had not yet arrived but it was still early so it was excusable. Exchanging a few small talk, you caught up with what the 4th division was up to till the doors finally opened.

“Good morning everyone.” Tsukauchi greeted. Feet glued to his spot. His eyesight focused on you. “Before we head out, we have a special guest joining us.”

“Holy shit.” Shinezu uttered under his breath.

- - - - -

a/n: shits bout to go down again! I would like to take this time to thank each one of you who take the time to read this! Unpredictable was supposedly a 10 chapter story but we bout to reach 20 now! i cant really respond to your comments as much but i read all of ‘em and they always make my day :’) my schedule has just been very hectic these days huhu and yeas that ends my rant~ see ya’ll next week! :* and yes, the waiting list is still open :)

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #chisaki kai #bnha chisaki

[chiimmchiimm]

❝ 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓷 !¡ 𝒿𝓀 ❞

The largest herd on the entire East Coast would have a new leader. Qualities were of utmost importance to them, a good alpha had to possess a sense of justice and a beta woman to augment his legacy. Jungkook's parents had accepted their marriage since before he was born. The second strongest family, the Lightwoods, had a perfect beta daughter for their son. However, one night after an unexpected event, Jungkook decided to marry his youngest daughter. 

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔:  Jungkookwolf au x (female:Lucy)  𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut, wolf au, fluff, angst, one shot.  𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 16 k    𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18   𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: abuse, violence, , sadness, psychological abuse, dirty lenjuage, naked, muscles, mating, cumshot, bite, sex. 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: This is my first one shot of this theme I hope you enjoy it. If there is a lot of demand, maybe make another one with the member you choose most. 

Social pressure could be included within the determining factors for anyone to lose their reason, their own identity. Jungkook always considered himself a strong person, both physically and mentally. His education had been one of the best in town, the most neat and disciplined so that I could deal with any problem that might arise. Being the firstborn of an Alpha family was not easy, he lived constantly under the rules, absurd duties and constant dialogues about loyalty.

In Dyonisia, everyone envied him, and for that reason, he always walked alone. He did not like people, he did not like to make friends for convenience, to feel like a sample object to flatter their families. He preferred to sink under his father's extensive library, though he never said no to a walk on the Hun River.

That morning, his father had practically forced him to get out of those four walls, breathe air, take a bit of color, inviting him to interact with the other betas or omegas in town. He had only built a small friendship with a beta, Jimin, the son of his father's assistant, a very brief relationship just by spending good morning, but Jungkook found it pleasant. Perhaps it was her sympathy and the kind smile that she gave her mother every time she brought her hot chocolate. He used to watch those scenes from a porch seat with a book on his lap and another cup to go with. He never got too close, fearing the same rejection as the same betas of his kind. They were supposed to respect him (or at least that's what they did in public) but they never missed an opportunity to denigrate his taste for loneliness, to process low words towards his low weight and unattractiveness. This was her childhood, subjected to constant ridicule that seemed endless.

So when Jungkook culminated in the hormonal process of puberty, his alpha genetics came out in the way his muscles protruded above all those scrawny betas. At twenty-two, he possessed all the qualities necessary to be the new Alpha Chief.

I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with rich natural oxygen. He had always loved the wild smell of pine leaves, the crisp sound of boots as he stepped on dry leaves. Feeling comfortable, he gave himself the pleasure of stretching his shoulders to remove all the accumulated tension, placing a hand on his shoulder to massage the neck area.

He dragged his boots down a small slope of land to approach the shore and touch the crystal clear water, he needed to get drunk from that cold and wet feeling left by the river.

It stopped mid-slope when I hear a couple of voices below.

"What's wrong?" It echoed, a thick, coarse voice with an ironic air. A man of medium height with strong arms and a broad back covered by a white tank top. He seemed to be talking to someone but his physiognomy was so robust that it completely covered him. His shoulders fell serene but the tension was palpable in the muscular contraction of his back. —Come on, darling, you're my girlfriend, you love me, I love you, what do others matter?

“I love you, I'm just not ready to go to those kinds of contacts, sorry.”

"But why not?"

Jungkook analyzed his tired tone, shrewdly deducing that it was not the first time that he had insisted. Then, the boy supported the weight of his body with one leg, discovering with this small act, the body of a girl with whom he spoke so uncomfortable. Slowly her eyes widened with involuntary emotion. She felt chills, the movement of her brown hair against the wind seemed unreal, so soft and fluffy that it caused inhuman impulses to touch it. Big, expressive eyes that screamed what he thought: discomfort and some fear. Letting herself be tamed by sudden curiosity, she began to explore her sweet, perfect features, brown skin, small nose, and prominent natural red lips. It seemed like a beam of light in so much darkness, it really was beautiful. A scent of honey rose from her developed nose, an aroma so exquisite that she had to close her eyes briefly to calm the excited red of her irises. "My love, nobody will know, only you and me.I am giving you an option so that you do not have to pass your fever with those harmful drugs.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows as surprise hit his facial control. Outraged by his low propositions, he frowned. I calculate that he must have been the same age, therefore, it seemed unheard of to him, considering that he did not seem stupid, that he did not know the serious consequences of such acts. He growled, his toes curling inside his shoes. He showered her with loving flattery whenever he could, yet there was something about his insistence that had him truly concerned. He talked to her about mating as if it was just about sex. That act links two people for life, though, only if the male wants. There was something about the way his fists clenched that prompted his instincts to think he was not to be trusted. He could smell the urge from there, a smell so rotten that his mouth suddenly wrinkled. Jungkook tilted his head to the side to examine his distressed expression, hurt by his little collaboration.

"I have said no."

A smile escaped Jungkook's lips without realizing it.

"But Lucy ..."

Her words stayed in the air when she noticed that the girl caught Jungkook's presence. I swallow hard, her expressive eyes staring at him in panic. The boy turned with his hands on his hips, then raised his eyebrows contemptuously at Jungkook. Quite nervous, Jungkook slid down the slope.

"Didn't they teach you not to listen to private conversations, asshole?"

"Tony, let him."

The boy looked at Lucy abruptly.

"What did I leave him? He could tell your parents about us. This jerk might not have good intentions ..."

"Like the ones you have with her?" He growled, his inner wolf shaking its tail eager to get out. For tearing everything in his canines with his canines. He was sure that the vein in his neck had made its appearance, he felt the blood rise suddenly and collect on his head. Lucy stared at him too shocked, then ducked her head in embarrassment, closing her brown eyes. Jungkook didn't want to make her feel bad, damn it, he should have controlled her tone. Her beautiful hair covered her face with such tender grace. How could someone as sweet as her date someone so hypocritical?

"What have you said?"

"What you listen."

"Give up for dead ..."

Lucy put her hands on his chest to stop him.

"Not here," she pleaded, her eyes set on the ground.

The boy shook his body violently and then roared.

The discussion did not get worse because a group of young betas appeared to camp at the foot of the river. Children who laughed tirelessly until they saw the two wolves pulling their teeth out and roaring intensely at each other. Jungkook was forced to calm down and reticulate for the sake of that foolish beta, he could not, rather, he should not. If his father found out that on his first outing, after so long, he had killed off a dead beta, he would be in real trouble. Everyone knew the difference between beta and alpha strength, it wouldn't have cost Jungkook to destroy him, but it wasn't the right thing to do. He returned to his home and sank into the safety of his room. He slept, ate and breathed thinking of those expressive clear eyes.

Located at the foot of a picturesque cabin where the vines climbed the walls emitting a smell of wet leaves from the recent storm. Today was the great day, that one, in which his role as future leader would consolidate, he would take the privilege of meeting his future wife and in the worst case, the mother of his cubs. His mother was almost as nervous as he was as he tried to calm himself down with exaggerated vents. He was convincing himself that it was the best choice. Her father rang the bell with searing assurance.

"Thanks for coming, Joe," said a robust man thanking him for his visit, Jungkook assumed he was responsible for the family. His mother entered first, giving him a nod in greeting, she did not like the contact very much. At a quick glance I notice Jungkook's presence. "Come on in." Is waiting for you.

His future wife.

Your future Alpha.

He nodded resignedly.

She felt a real desire to back down, to return home with some excuse to excuse her sudden flight. However, I end up entering that cozy house. The commitment was something that had always been in force throughout his life, his father kept reminding him how important it was to find the right partner, how essential it was to get someone with good genetics for the litter. But he was never in favor of arranged marriages, he was never in a hurry to establish love relationships. He always thought that fate would be in charge of introducing him to what would be his alpha, but that was just an absurd wish. Since he turned fifteen and hit the first stretch, his father had been in charge of reminding him, every day until today, that his destiny had been decided.

Enveloped by the pleasant heat of the living room. The house was not very big but enough for them. Sometimes those were the best, since a small house with interactions was better than a huge one where ghosts flooded around the corners.

She left her coat on the polished coat rack in the hall, then headed into the living room. He quickly approached the fireplace to take refuge in the crackling wood as it was burned by the fire.

"Carina, daughter, come down. Your fiance has arrived!"

Jungkook stood by the fireplace while he waited. The sound of heels began to echo down the steps. He raised his head as a new scent filled the room, his nose was suffocated by too intense a perfume. It was not annoying, without going any further, but too excessive. Her nose wrinkled in response. His sense of smell was so muffled that he soon began to crave oxygen.

"I was getting ready, mother," she said, in a charming voice.

Jungkook stifled a brief sigh as his eyes closed. Then he turned around and greeted her with a kiss on the hand. Without much more to say, his skin was overly lubricated and flavored with some artificial citrus from some body cream. I take his small bow as a greeting to tour the girl's body. The dress reached to the ankles where high-heeled shoes stood out with pride. The vermilion color with touches of bows matched a small belt. The dress was wide at the bottom, being narrower at the waist area, accentuating it. Then, I look at the artificial details of her makeup, her red lips highlighted by a lipstick, recently, by how fresh they looked. He had to control the movement of his eyebrows to avoid frowning, the girl was beautiful in itself, she did not need as much makeup. He liked natural appearances more like his mother or that girl on the river.

"Nice to meet you..."

"Carina," she added, quickly with a desperation that covered with a sporadic laugh.

Jungkook replied with a small grimace of politeness. Actually, I was tense.

"Where's your sister, darling?" Asked his mother under his breath. The girl shrugged contemptuously as if she wouldn't mind. Jungkook looked away awkwardly, they were talking in front of him like he wasn't.

"Sorry for being late ..."

Lucy ended her hasty career the moment her large eyes saw the figure of Jungkook occupying half of the room. Being totally paralyzed by the impression. Jungkook, who had recognized that voice, turned in his direction, also opening his eyes in surprise. Lucy closed her mouth as fast as she could, nerves beginning to dominate her movements. Both of them looking at each other in total surprise until their sister stood between them.

“Shall we go to the table?” She suggested, a little annoyed at his extreme attention to his sister.

Jungkook reacted, accepting a little disoriented that he would place an arm inside his forearm.

The couple walked to the table, however, there was a moment when Carina looked back to cast a teasing glance at her sister. Lucy rolled her eyes at his childish behavior.

"I was a little nervous because I didn't know how you were going to react. Really, this is crazy. Arranged marriage ..."

Carina talked and talked but he had lost himself in his thoughts shortly after the start of this conventional conversation. Sitting in front of his parents, with her at his side talking to him about anything he didn't even bother to hear. He hadn't yet touched the suckling pig meat that Mrs. Trivia had so skillfully cooked. His mother was talking to his mother, his father was talking to the other about some topic related to hunting, leaving poor Lucy behind, who was playing with the chicken leg with her fork at the other end of the table. He pursed his lips in a pout as he spun the food lost in his world. She felt boredom and a little angry at her mother for forcing her to attend these kinds of meetings. They didn't even get along with their sister, they were totally opposite. Carina was more flirtatious and concerned about much more "feminine" matters (at least that's what she called housework), Lucy was much more adventurous, carefree, she was a ray of sun molten in hope that exuded happiness for her radiant smile. She raised her eyes from the plate when she felt watched. Jungkook averted his gaze as soon as he rested hers on him.

Feeling even more out of place when she unconsciously watched her sister's hand cling to her strong bicep.

His mother was totally focused on a lively conversation with Jungkook's mother, so much so that when the brunette got up and sneaked out the back door, no one noticed her absence.

Holding between his small fingers his large planted chicken leg.

"Dog, I'm bringing you ..."

An excited bark came out from behind a trash can when the stray dog ​​she cared for behind her mother's back, ran at her in desperate gallops. With his tongue hanging out and his eyes drowning in hunger. Lucy, laughing, crouched down and set the plate down for the poor animal to feast on. The dog did not think twice and eagerly put the ozico in. A mixture of saliva and leftovers of meat began to fall on top of his shoes, he did not care too much, he increased the level of his laughter while he filled his head with caresses.

"Why did you run away?"

Frightened by such a compromising scene, Lucy spun back. When she met Jungkook's worried gaze she placed a hand on her chest and sighed in relief.

"You can't run away from a place you never were," he declares, his so ambiguous little confession decreasing in pitch as he turns back to the animal. He repeatedly pats his head as he watches his little fight with the larger area. Jungkook bows his head. He analyzes her curiously, a feeling similar to what she feels for him.

"Sorry," he whispers. Jungkook stops looking at the animal, directs his frown at her while undoing the smile that he doesn't know when he's formed. "This morning. Tony's."

-Why do you apologize? It wasn't your fault. ”Confused, he intensifies the wrinkle on his forehead.

"For not respecting you, Alpha. If I had known that ..."

"Stop justifying an apology," he replies, through an excessively abruptness. Lucy ducks her head in shame hidden under her long hair. Jungkook begins to feel remorse when he smells his sadness with his experienced sense of smell. So weak and fragile. He does not know how to react, it is the first time that he is in front of a woman and the dumbness reigns, the words have simply been stuck at the beginning of his throat.

Lucy raises her head.

"Do not."

Its softness shakes you.

"It's a stray dog ​​that I take care of behind my mother ... Please don't tell him!"

"Is very..."

"Pathetic, I know."

"No." he clarifies. Lucy expands her eyes to him. "It is an honorable gesture."

Lucy's cheeks are bathed in rich lipstick when their gazes collide for a brief moment.

"Thank you very much sir."

Jungkook wrinkles his nose.

"What's that, sir? But how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one, sir."

"For God's sake, don't call me sir reminds me of my father." Far from looking like an order, his pleasant laugh relaxes the situation.

Lucy gets caught up in the alluring sound of his voice, taking a few seconds to contemplate the hectic movement of her lips as she laughs. Jungkook intensifies his smile when he realizes it. She deflects hers drowning in a shame marked by the red of her ears.

"Call me by name, Jungkook."

"I'm so excited about decorating the banquet. I love roses, do you like roses as much as I do? I like the red of their petals it's so intense ... Oh, oh, over there!" Screaming excited when visualize from afar a wildflower stand. Catch Jungkook's doll to drag him towards the small traveling shop. There was so much fuss in the main square that you didn't notice the reverberating sound the song made of your tired sigh produced. He keeps thinking about how uncomfortable he is, he should help his father with the affairs of the town and not there, in a square choosing what would be the perfect flower for the center of his wedding table.

Two weeks had passed since that dinner, nothing had changed in his cold demeanor. Try as she might, she knew Carina was not his type. His heart did not stir when he touched it, nor did its aroma captivate him, it seemed the same as the rest of the omegas or betas in the surroundings.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook was aware of his claim hidden in a small grimace.

"Which ones do you like best?"

Carina reached out toward the flower trays.

"Do I really have to be here?" He asked, frowning roughly. Carina clenched her teeth, highlighting her jaw. Jungkook rolled his eyes at the sight of his little tantrum. Being a little nicer, I try to fix it in a quiet whisper. "I mean, I trust your taste."

Carina felt flattered, relaxing into a huge smile.

"I have to help my father. See you later."

He got out of there before Carina wanted to give him a suffocating hug. He adored them, he really missed the comforting warmth he felt when someone close hugged him, but he couldn't bear the excessive way his hands tightened around her neck.

A most peculiar brown mane drew his attention to the well-known girl who was reading in a street vendor.

He approached by an unconscious impulse that he offered to his lips with an excited smile.

“What are you doing?” He leaned down to whisper directly into the shell of her ear in greeting.

Lucy closed the book in fright. Suffering a chill from the wet friction of his lips on the skin.

When he bent his neck, he smiled.

"Are you following me, Jungkook?"

"Maybe," he joked, as he widened a mischievous smile. Lucy had to go back to the book so that she wouldn't witness the emotion of hers. Jungkook leaned over the stall ledges to steal his attention. "I came with Carina to buy some things for the wedding."

A prick-like pain seemed to hit his heart.

"It must have been exciting for you to have practically run out of the flower shop."

“Were you watching me?” She asked mockingly, exaggerating a playful smile.

"Maybe."

Jungkook was the faithful image of happiness. He couldn't stop smiling, unlike when he was with his sister, with Lucy he could bring out his personality, knowing that he would never judge him.

"Violent pleasures end in violence and have their own death triumph, in the same way that fire and gunpowder are consumed in a voracious kiss." I recite almost from memory when I look down at his book. Lucy turned her neck to him with too much surprise in her eyes. Jungkook replied with a proud grin. "Romeo and Juliet." I didn't think you were a lover of literature.

"It's the best way to get out of here getting lost in the exciting lyrics of Shakespeare," he replied, forming a small smile.

"Of all the works you have, why that one?" It is a tragedy with a very sad ending.

"An inspiring tragedy," he contradicted, frowning as he playfully punched him with the book in the stomach. "Besides representing a beautiful love story."

"Do you think such love exists?"

Jungkook raised a curious eyebrow.

"Yes, but not for me," I whisper, a cold and bleak air crowding into his tone like it's a disease. Jungkook slowly broke his beaming smile until he ended in a straight line. "My destiny is written and as traditions agree, I will end up marrying a stranger."

Lucy leaves the book inside a wooden box, the movement of her hand is so pessimistic that Jungkook lets out a sigh.

Frowning, she retrieves it. He put two fingers up to catch the grocer's attention, he came as fast as his old legs allowed. Jungkook took out a bill and placed it on top of the books.

"Keep the change."

Lucy opened her eyes in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

Jungkook offered her the book but she did not accept it. She was still holding a tense, reluctant posture toward him.

"Can't I give you a gift?"

"It is not appropriate. You are a committed man."

"With your sister."

Lucy's heart clenched.

"Still, it's not appropriate."

"Keep him."

As if he were a puppet at his whim, he managed to get the book into his arms.

"But..."

"Accept it as a sign of our friendship," he asked, Jungkook manifested his last masterpiece when he gave her a smile so charming that even Lucy was duped. "Friends make gifts, right?"

"Yes, I guess so."

He hated the pressure of the elegant shirts, he had always liked the comfort that loose and wide clothing provided much more. His mother had forced him to dress cordably on the occasion, when she had seen him in those jeans and black sweatshirt, he cursed the four winds.

As he walked down the streets of the town, the lanterns guided him with a charming light. The air that night was cool and comforting, and yet he would be locked in a house dining with his future wife. Jungkook sighed tired, really, he had been visiting that house too many times a week, he saw Carina almost every day. The only amusement that made this bustle more enjoyable was the pleasant company of Lucy. That little beta that made him smile every time they spoke. An impatient sigh came from his lips without realizing it.

Would it also be today?

"Ahead."

Mrs. Trivi opened the door for him with a smile.

Jungkook was looking resignedly at the table set in the living room when a delicious smell led him to the kitchen.

"Mmm ... that smells good."

He smiled like a little boy when he saw a chocolate cake in the middle of the table.

"Get your filthy hands away from my chocolate cake!" Cried an uncompromising voice that he had instantly recognized.

"Just a bit." Fawning smiled as he stretched out one of his hands but Lucy slapped him.

"Not!"

Immediately they both laughed as Lucy tenderly took her hand to analyze the red mark. There was a time when the laughter stopped and his eyes couldn't be more attracted. They fell into comfortable silence as they analyzed his detailed pupils. Jungkook cocked a small smile as his heart began to crash against his chest. Lucy looked away in intimidation, her dark eyes too deep. I swear for a moment to hear the heart fluttering in Lucy's chest, her scent so close it was starting to cause terrible side effects. He felt a shiver as his fingers left her wrist in need of the desire for her soft touch. Lucy swallowed to calm the dryness in her throat, her lips taking control of her mouth to smile unconsciously. He knew he kept staring at her and he inexplicably liked that. 

Jungkook found himself half a step away when the door slammed shut.

"Jungkook wasn't expecting you so soon. I've missed you ..."

Lucy was brutally pushed aside when Carina hugged Jungkook.

"Are you going to stay for dinner?" A totally ironic question to his sister.

Lucy smiles falsely.

"If you talk to me like that, yes."

"Stupid ..."

"Actually, I'm only here to pick up some of your father's papers." Jungkook's clever intervention gives him the perfect excuse to refrain from that absurd evening. Carina ironically raises her eyebrows while transforming a forced smile.

"Oh! In that case come, I'll take you to his office."

Lucy mocks her sister's back, imitating her gait, and Jungkook laughs softly when he turns to say goodbye.

The sun was shining bright that morning but the desire to get lost in the pages of a book had really won the battle. Her father's office was an intimate and private place where he used to spend most of the day. Besides, she preferred to shut herself up in that rustic and solitary room, than to have to endure the excited screams of her sister for the few days that remained for her wedding.

He was turning the pages of the book too lazily. He didn't know what was going on inside her but for a while he had been in rather poor humor. He no longer wanted to smile, he rarely laughed at his father's jokes when there had been from the first syllable before. He made cheap excuses, whether it was because the summer was ending or because his parents no longer paid as much attention to him. Deep down, he knew what the real reason for his emotional downturn was. Jungkook was going to marry his sister's monster.

The problem was not commitment (or at least that's what he wanted to think) Jungkook was a very attractive young man, it was more than clear that he would not stay single all his life, but the fact that he went with his sister definitely put him in a very bad mood . She was capricious and did not agree with her friend's kind attitude. So sweet and chivalrous, he couldn't deny how good he felt when sporadic moments passed. Her chest heaved uneasily and her lips couldn't stop smiling.

He shook his head to scare away the strange thoughts and concentrated his attention on finishing Cervantes' great work. When finishing with the last page, he got up from the chair and walked to the shelf, with the bad luck that when he wanted to return it to its place of origin, the height played a trick on him.

“Do you need help?” A velvety voice vibrated behind her. Jungkook leaned his shoulder against the mark of the door as he contemplated the amusing scene of seeing her on tiptoe and with her tongue sticking out.

"What?"

Lucy landed on the ground momentarily stunned by his appearance. Swallow, overwhelmed by its natural beauty. He had never felt the need to focus on the bodies of the other betas, and yet his eyes wandered alone on an involuntary tour of her majestic legs in tandem with his strong arms clenched as they crossed. Coming out of her hypnosis, she blinked nervously as she turned back to the bookshelf and managed to cover her blush. What happened to him? It looked like a beta controlled by her impulses.

"Oh! No, I can alone," rejecting her help with a self-sufficient air. He stood on tiptoe again, stretching his arm as far as he could to strain the book into the empty space. She lowered to the ground tired and snorted closing her eyes. "Okay. Can you ..."

A hand runs over her shoulder, catching the book and setting it in place. His hard pecs collide unintentionally against his back as his body leans forward to reach the high shelf. Feel an intense stomach cramp when you shrink at the compact sensation. She seems so moved by the pleasant sensation of his body heat that her neck turns to increase the vision of her strong arm backing up.

"Thanks ..." he whispers.

"I had brought you a book."

Jungkook's voice sounds more stable than it actually was, his mind had played a bad thought on him. He didn't want to get away from her. She had felt such a pleasant sensation when she had accidentally brushed against his body. Forcing himself to stay away from its delicious smell he takes two steps back to walk away.

"You didn't have to with the book the other day ...”

Lucy turns around when she is sure that the redness on her cheeks has completely left her skin but then, Jungkook takes out a book from his cloth bag.

"Oh, my mother, my mother!" I do not believe you. I've been looking for this book every time Mel put the job but always told me she didn't have it.

He snatches the book from her with too exciting speed when he recognizes the book.

“Since when do you like witchcraft, Jungkook?” He hums mockingly as he glides his fingers across the uneven surface of the cover, in a hypnotized smile.

"If you don't want it ..."

“Yes, yes!” She hugs the book, afraid she will take it away.

Jungkook laughs softly.

Lucy takes the book off to look at it, jumps with excitement as she squeals like a little girl. She doesn't know when she has dared to run to his body to hug him, but when she is aware of what she has done and tries to separate herself, Jungkook is wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Suddenly, Lucy hides a smile sinking into her chest. Its honey scent is so comfortable, it inspires enjoying its natural perfume, it takes a step closer to make a better hole in its arms. Jungkook gasps, tilts his head to bury his nose in her neck and bask in her softness, his fingers lightly touching the skin behind her ear. Her small caress makes Lucy stir at the sensation. With an innate craving he clenches his wool sweater in a fist, Jungkook gently caresses the strip of fur again. Smile when you feel the trembling of your body stuck.

"Shall I interrupt?"

Lucy separates agitated when she hears her sister's irritated voice.

"Thank you, really, thank you."

His stuttering is covered by the sound of his hurried footsteps. He runs away from there with his face burning, hoping that Jungkook hasn't seen the shame on his face, but both he and Carina have witnessed his little blush. Jungkook smiles unconsciously, caring little that his behavior was being observed by the other woman.

"Carina, you are beautiful."

Flaunting her majestic dress she waves her hand proudly. His other hand is in a friendly greeting with Jungkook's mother.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Jeon."

"Nothing formal, after all, we will be family soon." Her confidence makes Carina smile with greatness. Completely ignoring his parents and his bored sister. — I can't believe my son is getting married in a week.

Lucy purses her lips, tries to act normally but cannot.

Carina widens her smile when she notices her sidelong disgust.

"Neither do I ... I'm so nervous."

Jungkook's mother turns to a circle of men who speak animatedly.

"Jungkook, son, your fiancee just arrived!"

Jungkook slammed his glass down, placed it on top of the waiter's tray, then loosened the knot in his tie. Really, he had infiltrated the older wolves to hide, had had to put up with old stories of when the pack was a third of what it was now, but it was worth it to get away even for a few minutes.

An old man she had been talking to slaps him on the shoulder for support. He sighs and turns to his mother. He tries to process a charming smile on his girlfriend but is only capable of grimacing.

"These..."

He shuts up.

He sees Lucy a few meters behind, clad in a short but really delicate dress. Jungkook couldn't contain the bubbles of emotion growing inside her, she really was beautiful. The white color suited him wonderfully highlighting his pretty eyes that did not hesitate to observe him.

"Precious..."

"Thanks," Carina responds, taking a quick look at her mother.

"What a boring party." Is this what they call music? ”Her friend scoffed as she played with the liquid in her glass. Lucy shrugged, then finished her third drink. When he threatens to leave her on the small table behind him, Ginger grabs her shoulders to stop her. "Don't turn around."

"What happens?"

Lucy frowns in concern.

"Would you believe me if I told you that your sister's fiancé did not take his eyes off you?"

"Of course not." He chokes on the alcohol when he swallows. You cough when you notice how the drink is going the wrong way. — You should stop drinking because alcohol makes you see things that are not.

"Yeah right."

Red-brushed nails are embedded around his arm.

“May I have a second, I want to talk to my sister?” She demands, lashing out in an unkind tug until she pulls her out of prying eyes.

"Ouch! What are you doing?" Lucy moans in a confused howl from the strangely aggressive pressure that travels through her fingers.

"You've been taunting Jungkook all night."

"You're sick in the head," she clarifies, denying herself absorbed in an incredulous expression, sucking her lips inward to contain herself. She decides to ignore him and walk back to the living room, however, her sister's hand returns her to her place.

"I warn you, stop bothering my fiancé."

"Your ego has gone to your head and your understanding is clouded." Jungkook is my friend, nothing more.

"You're right," he spits bitterly. She smiles, she wears an evil grimace that only anticipates what will come next. —Really, I don't know why I bother if it's clear that she would never notice someone like you.

"Like me?"

"Yes." He tightens his smile, emphasizing a wicked look. "In an immature and horrendous brat who doesn't have two fingers on her forehead, you're not even pretty."

Sigh, release his breath directly to her face to unbalance her. Lucy frowns in pain at her sister's hurtful words. He had always been cruel, he had never lacked time to mess with his appearance, but this time it was different, he sensed it in the way he acted. He had pulled out his claws to defend his position as if he felt Lucy was a threat when he had just told her otherwise.

"You're worth nothing."

He moved closer to her ear so that his whisper would take on a dramatic tone. She emphasized the last word to make it stand out from the rest. Lucy swallowed nervously, a swirl of anguish crouching inside her stomach from the lack of delicacy. She knew that she shouldn't listen to her, she was just a hurt woman for some reason that she couldn't explain. But it was the derogatory tone and the way his eyes killed her in anger. She didn't know that it hurt more, if her sister's slurs or the fact that deep down she knew she was right. I never considered myself a good specimen, haughty and pushy. No beta approached her if it weren't for sweet reasons. She always walked alone waiting for someone to surprise her, but that never happened, it only existed in her head.

Until now.

"Lucy." An oddly low voice sounded behind him. Startling her by sudden interruption of her thoughts. She turns around and twitches a weary sigh.

"Tony, I'm not in the mood. Go, please."

"We need to talk."

Lucy inevitably stared out the window, seeing her sister hanging on Jungkook's arm. She was smiling as she bragged about something she couldn't hear from a distance. As if struck by a current, Jungkook squinted into the darkness of the porch, but there was no one there anymore. Her desire to get out of there was greatly increased by accepting that Tony will guide her down the dark steps at the back of the house.

“Haven't we gotten too far away?” He asks, not stopping to observe everything that had a little moonlight reflected on its surface. It had been a while since they had started on this walk, Tony had been silent and certainly, Lucy was beginning to wonder if accepting his offer had really been a good idea.

"It's so they won't listen to us."

"I think that's enough, I don't even know where we are."

She stopped abruptly causing Tony to turn and look at her strangely.

"Lucy, forgive me."

—Tony, we've already talked about this, you aspire to things that I don't. We don't have the same goals, the same dreams. We were always different, now I realize how wrong I was to accept that this happened.

"But what are you saying?" You love Me.

"No, Tony. I liked you but I never loved you. "I confess, the words had been previously selected in his head so as not to reject him too abruptly, but the fatigue was cleverly perceived between his tired grimace and lowered shoulders." Sorry, "I sigh. Taking steps carefully so as not to trip over the dark stones.

His hand tied to her arm holding her back.

"We need to talk," I pronounce slowly with a bright threat in his eyes.

"We've said enough," he said, shivering from the nerves that covered his vision. He shook his arm but he just cocked his fingers more. "Tony, let go of me I have to go back."

"You love me," he repeated in a desperate air. Lucy widened her eyes in fright as she took painfully slow steps toward him. "I'm going to show you how much I love you."

He yanked her onto the nearest log just to adjust to her body as soon as he had the chance. Her nose inspired his perfumed scent eagerly as she trembled paralyzed. His nails embedded in the rough wood with a disturbed look. He began to deliver small kisses to the bottom of her jaw, sticking out his sticky tongue to lick a strip of her syrupy neck. Lucy shrugged her head in response, feeling the real fear when his hands clenched her and she felt his hard erection on her thigh.

"My precious beta ..." her breath falling into the shell of her ear before she licked it with emphasis. Lucy patted her chest desperately, attacking with her hands in an absurd attempt to pull him away.

“Stop!” I yell, sick and scared. Holding back an anguished sob at the top of her throat. All she did was get Tony to growl and hold her tighter in his lumberjack arms.

"Don't scream, no one is going to listen to you, we're in the middle of nowhere. Don't make this more difficult, Lucy."

He hit his body again this time making it at least a few inches apart. He sank his body into the crisp wood of the tree groaning in pain as he felt loose strands dig into his back.

"Let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone," I plead, opening my teary eyes so that he will change his mind, that being his breaking point.

"Damn it, I just want to convey to you how much I love you so hard it is to understand!" If you don't want to understand it the good way then the bad way it will be… ”A hand went up to wrap the column of his neck and thus keep his face free for him. He smiled, pulling his teeth out in a sharp smile. Lucy kicked when she buried her mouth in his neck, she knew what she would do when she felt the fangs in her neck.

"No ..." she sobbed.

A furious roar echoed through every space in the forest. So furious and scandalous that Tony caught a glance before falling to the ground pushed by strong arms. Lucy slid down the tree, killing her bent legs. Her hand covered her neck still feeling the edge of her fangs.

Another furious roar.

Lucy tore her gaze from the dried leaves to find a scene too terrifying. Jungkook hitting with all his fury the face buried in the earth of Tony. Flipping him violently with each punch. Fixing a bloodshot gaze, pulling out the fangs at each lunge. He tried to get up but his knee failed, he had to lean on the trunk not to collapse.

"Jungkook," I whisper weak. Not abandoning that fear that I still felt. Jungkook looked up from Tony's badly injured body to look at her with concern. His eyes darting to the hand covering his neck. He got up as fast as he could and approached her too nervously.

"Are you okay? Has that motherfucker done anything to you?" He growled, the vein in his neck sticking out at every word. His breathing hitched at his chest but he didn't seem to mind. With too much tenderness he uncovered his neck to see two red marks but without going deep. He sighed, feeling relieved and selfishly good. Lucy welled up tears at his pitiful gaze. She buried her head in his chest to calm her sobs. Jungkook stroked her head slowly. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you alone."

"Where could it be?" Has he come home? ”Her father asked in an anguished tone as he wandered around the empty room.

"Lucy would never leave without telling us." Her worried mother assured her to try to calm her husband's uncomfortable hustle a little.

Carina rolls her eyes.

"Please, you're putting on too much of a drama, he's always sneaked out of ..."

Jungkook's mother's outrageous heels stormed in.

Behind her husband walks with a long face.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” Her mother added in a panic attack. It was not common for her son to leave the party in the middle of a conversation. She had been worried since she saw him leave in a hurry.

The glass opening was what twitched the nerves of everyone present. Immediately everyone turned in alarm to find a Jungkook with his shirt stained with mud. His mother covered her amazed mouth when the poor and trembling Lucy appeared behind him with her tousled dress and red neck. But undoubtedly, what caught the most attention was the boy that Jungkook so skillfully dragged by his mother's velvet carpet.

"Lucy! OMG, what happened?"

Her mother ran to wrap her daughter in her arms, who soon began to cry when she felt the heat of the home again.

"This jerk has tried to take her into the woods," Jungkook roared into the air. Wrinkling her nose when the memory of him trying to mark her came magically to knock her good pose down. He released his shirt causing it to drop straight to the floor, the drool hanging and his mouth bloody as he lay dying on the fluffy carpet.

"He?"

Her mother grabbed her shoulders to inspect the mark on her neck.

"No." I assure, licking my lips so I can speak. "Jungkook was on time, Mom."

The woman sighed in relief.

"Thank heaven."

"That happens to you for being anybody," her sister accused in a too despicable tone. Her father turned shocked to his daughter.

"Carina, please, that comment is too much!"

"Tomorrow everyone will know what happened tonight." He pointed coldly at his sister as if it wouldn't affect him. His mother immediately looked at Jungkook's mother, who looked down at the dying individual in her living room.

"I'll try not to talk about it much, but you know what the rumors are like."

"No one will want to marry her," Carina commented in a low whisper that did nothing more than hide her inner joy.

"I will do it."

Everyone watched Jungkook's jaw drop. Everyone except Lucy who had frozen in her mother's arms, sticking her head out to look at him too shocked.

"It is a solution," he commented to his father in an attempt to convince him. Mr. Jeon seemed to think about it as he placed a finger on his chin and turned to seek his wife's approval.

"But are you listening to each other?" What kind of mental dementia makes you think it's a good idea? Do not!

“Carina!” Her mother said in a dominant cry. The girl opened her mouth as she exhaled fire from anger. Heading towards Jungkook so that he could convey his agony.

"It's her problem she has gotten into." I understand that you want to help her but there are many ways.

"It is my decision, father."

Sitting with her hands on her knees as she watched her mother's reflection travel across the room.Combed with a tousled braid that ran down the right side of her shoulder. Looking back into that mirror, she thought that perhaps this would be the last time she could feel the warm relaxation of her space. She tried not to cry so as not to ruin the makeup so exquisite that her mother had taken the time to do it.

He couldn't find the exact words to describe how he felt. Nerves had indeed taken the form of lingering chills. He always assured his crazy and dreamy person that the day they would take his hand would be the happiest of his life, and yet he kept thinking that this situation had been forced.

"Here it is, it was from your great-grandmother, then it happened to your grandmother and then to me. Now it's your turn to take it."

"Why are you crying, Mom?" I whisper in a small smile when she saw slight drops caress her cheeks.

"It's not every day my girl gets married," I croon melancholy as I hooked a loose lock with the blue clasp. I sigh, stroking her daughter's bare shoulders. "We should have had this talk later but the situation has been a bit rushed."

“About what?” She scowled her outlined eyebrows.

"About the rules in marriage, my love."

"Mom..."

"You know what will happen tonight, Jungkook will take you and be his wife. You must have puppies, all you can and ..."

"Mom, I don't want to talk about this. Can you please go away?"

"I know it's difficult, at first it takes a little getting used to but I'm sure my girl will do very well. Jungkook is a great man who has done us a great favor, keep that in mind."

I kiss her forehead lovingly before leaving her thoughtful in the mirror.

Everything happened so fast, in less than a blink he found himself closing his eyes to the roar of applause from the guests. Stop in the middle of an altar full of precious flowers. Being the center of attention and the reason for the excited whistles.

"You may kiss the bride."

Lucy gulped when the priest's words broke through all the screaming. His eyes ceased to outline the flowers in a nervous air. The seat next to him shifted back, implying that Jungkook had risen. Lucy took the fabric of her skirt and tightened it anxiously before getting up. Raising her chin little by little in a situation that seemed more eternal than the cycle of the earth. Connecting their eyes for the first time since they had made the pact in that stone seat. Jungkook sighed when he noticed how his bright pupils faded as the agony continued to rage. Guilt gnaws at him like a disease that destroys everything in his path.

He moved just a little closer to receive her rejection in a fearful gasp. So, banishing the desire he had to caress that fleshy mouth with his lips, he decided to bring a kiss to his forehead and walk away as soon as possible. Lucy, who had closed her eyes not to witness out of embarrassment, opened them in surprise to find a Jungkook further away than she ever walked to the garden with the guests.

He had hardly had a bite of the wonderful cake that Mrs. Jeon had prepared. The food had danced with her fork the short time dinner had lasted. The dance was more awkward than I imagined. Everyone exhaling tender sighs while the couple glowed in the middle of the garden. Envious women who wanted to take their place, themselves as men who longed to feel what Jungkook's hands touched as she delicately adjusted herself on the bare area of ​​his back. They were both tense.

I kept thinking about what would come next, there was less left for the evening to end and the guests to leave. With the end of each song his greatest fear was approaching, he should spend the night with Jungkook.

A couple of Jungkook's cousins ​​dragged her away to talk about marriage issues. However, Lucy was absent and lost in a sea suffocated by a storm of nerves. Himself, when they gave more than two in the morning, one of the cousins ​​took her with complicit laughter to her room. He left her alone saying goodbye with a wink that he did not see as he fell into bed.

Very soon, the door opened in a scandalous screech, standing firm with her back stretched up as she turned to see her husband. He was shocked when he saw how shabby he looked, his tie untied and his vest buttons undone with a shirt half out.

"I'll sleep in the room at the end of the hall to let you rest." A hoarse voice accompanied by an unstable babble. Lucy raised her eyebrows when she could smell alcohol filling the room. Looking more closely at his appearance, he noticed how the red cheeks and lost eyes gave rise to the thought that the stains on his pants had not been water. He looked really tired as he leaned his back against the door to stand upright.

"But this is your room," she whispered persuasively. Jungkook waved his hand away as he crawled over to his dresser to grab his nightwear.

"Never mind."

Puzzled by his sudden stability, she was left with the word in her mouth when Jungkook closed the door two seconds later.

Two weeks later.

Like every waking up in the last days, there was a part of her that wanted to continue sleeping, to sink her head into that fluffy pillow and forget about her problems. But ignoring them wasn't the best option, still, he spent as much time as he could in the isolated room that had been on his property for a couple of days.

After the wedding night a cold air had crept in between them, Jungkook hardly spoke a word that was not strictly necessary, whether it was a good morning or a goodbye. When she left the room, he seemed to notice her presence and go to the garden with some excuse without any reliable argument. He would be lying if he said that this contempt did not hurt him in the deepest, ignoring her had become his favorite activity.

So, she was pleasantly surprised when she went down to breakfast to see two cups on the table.

"Good morning." He nodded as he walked past him so he could sit down.

"Good morning." Unlike her shyness, Jungkook seemed much more awake and with an overwhelming air that made that distressed sensation ease somewhat.

Lucy picked up her fork and began to eat silently with overly careful bites as she noticed a gaze piercing her from the other end.

"When you finish breakfast I want to teach you one thing."

True to his word, after devouring what was left of his plate, Jungkook rose from the table and she followed behind. He felt a swirl of emotions that he could not stop.

What she wasn't expecting was for him to lead her to a huge library that she hardly knew existed.

"It is huge," I admit in a scream that he confessed the wonderful surprise that had been. The books placed perfectly on the bookshelves almost perfectly, you could tell that it was an important place for Jungkook since the brightness of his eyes gleamed menacingly.

"It is entirely yours." Feel free to pick up any book you want, although we can always go to town to buy more.

"With the ones here, I think that's enough." My God! ”I shout excitedly when I visualize a golden cover more than familiar among so much wood. She raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth surprised to find that type of book, there. “Do you have the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf?” She furrowed her eyebrows in a grimace accompanied by a small smile. It was so striking that he had a children's tale among great classics that he could hardly see that Jungkook's cheeks had camouflaged a soft red.

"It was my favorite when I was little, I didn't fall asleep unless my mother read it to me at least twice." He confessed, exhaling those childhood memories. He smiled, imagining the situation of a little Jungkook between blankets as he begged his mother to start his reading. Although it died down in the same way that a feeling of remorse arose, he no longer spent time with his parents, least of all with his mother.

"You should have given him war ..."

Her velvety voice led him back to reality. Her smile just appeared when I watched from afar as Lucy's small feet leaned to reach the book. A feeling of tenderness similar to that of the other time caused him to walk to offer his help.

"Wait, I will ..."

But Lucy had already managed to catch him and they collided almost unintentionally when she got down and he lunged forward. Her back pressed to his chest harder than last time, feeling the hot breath falling into her ear, making her goose bumps. He swallowed and turned around, leaning on the shelf. Her fingers gripped the book with maddening anxiety as she realized how close they were so painful between them. Jungkook had a hand on the shelf next to her head for support, aware or not, that he was cornering her. Jungkook raised his hand in a delicate caress to her chin to get a better view of her clear eyes. The arm she had supported was closing the distance at too slow a speed, torturing her with the prospect of her dilated irises. His dark gaze kept her in place, almost instinctively or because she was amazed by that intense gaze. Her lips parted as he brought his thumb up to stroke her chin in small circles. Lucy closed her eyes to heighten the sense of pleasure, barely aware that Jungkook was approaching tortuously slow steps toward a single destination. She lifted her head a little to give him better access when she felt the brush of his nose on hers followed by a small contact with the soft skin of her approaching lips.

"Mister Jungkook your guest has just arrived." The voice of one of the house servants caused Jungkook to walk away immediately and Lucy to hide her face placing the book on her warm face.

“What guest?” I snort, trying to sound as kind as possible being aware that I had interrupted. The elderly man left the library without answering. Jungkook rubs his palm over his face to calm down and not kill whoever has come to his house without warning. Something told him that his parents' absence had something to do with the surprise guest. I glance at Lucy apologetically which the girl received with an embarrassed nod.

Through the hallway upstairs, he could already smell a peculiar perfume. The citrus smell was unmistakable, I just hope it was a mistake and that it really wasn't who I felt.

Unfortunately, going down the stairs to his huge mansion, he realized that his sense of smell had not fooled him.

"Cousin Kook but how long without seeing you!" Have you put on weight? ”Burlon, with the biggest and most false smile he could show as he followed his steps up the stairs. Jungkook snorted more than annoyed as he glared at his father, who kept a serious expression next to his wife.

“What is he doing here?” He didn't hide his anger in an ironic tone like his cousin did.

"He came on behalf of the neighboring town." I have invited you for a few days to file the sloths, please be kind.

His father's pleas caused him to sigh.

"Yes, Kook treat me like a princess." His maniacal laugh made his hair stand on end. He clenched his fists trying to control his wolf from taking over. However, another sweet smell made her look up quickly toward the stairs. "But what have we got here?" I had heard that you were married but the rumor had not reached me that your wife was such a beautiful specimen.

Lucy was halfway there when she felt the other alpha's piercing gaze from below. Her stomach clenched when she felt his eyes travel as far as he could without cutting himself. I look at Jungkook terribly self-conscious but he barely looked at him and he was already grunting at his cousin.

"Taehyung called me, did you ..." I walk in a flattering air to where she was when she finished going down the stairs to gently hold her hand and plant a kiss on the back, leaving her with a shiver. His dark eyes were similar to Jungkook's but much more mischievous. With nothing more than to compare both smiles that although they were too far away, Jungkook's toothy smile was as pleasant as the square of that flirtatious wolf.

"Lucy, please go." More than a plea, it sounded more like an overly demanding order. The vein in his neck already looked too visible, implying that his patience was running out.

"What? No, why so soon?"

Lucy looked at Jungkook for answers but only got a neutral and overly intense gaze.

"Listen to me."

"You are a curmudgeon, Cousin Kook."

"What a heady smell, shit, I had never smelled such a smell." How lucky you are to fuck, I almost become like a small wild omega when its perfume has gone up my nostrils.

"Signature." Gag. Slipping the folder with the papers into a noisy slip.

But Taehyung smiled mischievously.

"It must have been a pleasure being paired with someone so cute," he commented. I borrow a pen from the desk to capture his signature. They were just papers that agreed to the new territory deal. Delimiting their land so that there are no misunderstandings when hunting. Jungkook was deeply upset with his father's actions, he could have brought his uncle, at least he would not have to endure such high alpha airs. She didn't want him here, much less knowing that Lucy was close. He was jealous, damned jealous. Because although he trusted her, not so much in him.

"It is not your fault." Now get out of my sight.

"Oh come, we are family, there are no secrets between blood brothers. What was it like to take it? Delicious sure. What legs and what small breasts so well placed, how does your ..."

"If you talk about my female again with those words." No. ”He patted the table as he got up, a shout rumbling dominated by his primitive impulses. He had to calm down or he would end up transforming and slitting his neck. She closed her eyes, hiding her fiery red irises as she ran her tongue over her raging lip. "If you ever talk about my female again, no matter what it is, I'm going to rip your throat out with my fangs."

"Well, it hit you hard."

"Stay away from her, Taehyung." Don't force me to follow through on my threat.

"Relax, you're a little tense," the brown-haired boy lied, rising to rest his hands on his cousin's shoulders. Jungkook identified the fact as a mockery, finally roaring at Taehyung so that he would take his hands off her. Fangs coming out to impose dominance, Taehyung ended up walking away as he raised his hands to the air, hiding with an awkward smile how much his howl had stunned him.

"You better not notice your scent near her."

"Too bad my beloved uncles can't join us for this delicious dinner," Taehyung mentioned as he devoured a piece of meat with a pleasant smile. Jungkook rolled his eyes, then looked at Lucy to verify her condition. She looked awkward, too self-conscious about dining with someone she didn't know.

"Yes, eat and be quiet."

"Were you always so irascible or is it because I'm close to your female?"

Lucy, who until then had been quietly eating, raised her head to Taehyung quite surprised. Flashing nervously as she clarified in her head if what she had just said was true, or just the result of her joking nature. Jungkook had to hold back a groan to stay seated and not jump at his cousin's neck.

"Shut up and eat," he growled menacingly. Casting out your voice I recorded with as much impatience as shame. Lucy was listening to everything, and if she could perceive, just a little bit, discomfort in her. Taehyung would end up in the backyard with his head buried in the ground.

"Why are you reacting like this?" A moment ago you were yelling at me that if I approached her you would nail my fangs.

"With permission," she apologized in a too embarrassed whisper. Jungkook frowned too sadly when he saw her almost run to disappear. He squeezed the fork showing his white knuckles with a thirst for blood, specifically, that of his cousin. Giving Taehyung a voracious glance, he ran after her to try to explain.

It was a relief to him to see her climb the stairs.

"Sorry, it is martyrdom to dine with someone like him." I shouldn't have asked you to come down to dinner with us. ”He spoke too regretfully. Lucy suspended her leg and turned, holding on to the railing. She contracted when she saw true overwhelm in Jungkook's dark pupils, at least he had come looking for her.

"Yeah, it's kind of weird," I whisper. I go down the steps to shorten the distance, staying a couple higher to place his eyes on a level with his. Taehyung's inappropriate comments had made her more uncomfortable than she would like to admit, but that had not been the main reason she had decided to run away. "What she said ..." soft babble. Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed too hard. There was illusion in its brilliance, so much so that Jungkook was almost blind. She could feel the intensity with which her heart beat, nervous about an answer. "Is it true?"

"It is not so, I just warned him that he will not approach you. He did not mean it, well, unless he makes it clear." He ended up confessing. Lucy pursed her lips, she had avoided his question.

"Would you only do that to him if he got close to me? Why?"

He didn't know what, but his chest heaved with excitement, if he could ever know that Jungkook saw her as a female and not as the girl he had been forced to marry to keep his bond.

"You should have listened to the endless barbaric things he said about you as if he were an omega in heat." I don't want him to be near you, that's all.

"Your female said."

Jungkook straightened his back taut, his shoulders haughty from the rise of his chest in alarm. He felt anxiety in her, a need that was mortifying him. She didn't want to hurt him, because if she did, he would.

"Yeah, well, don't take it into account. Taehyung says a lot of nonsense. It's the only thing he's good at."

"I don't know why, but I have a feeling you're hiding something from me, Jungkook."

"I'm not hiding anything from you."

"Then why do you run away to the room farthest from the hallway every night?" Gripping the railing too tightly. She was agitated, annoyed by her cowardice.

"That's my business," he growled before walking out the other door.

Lucy tried to go down the steps to follow him but suddenly, her belly contracted curving her towards the railing. She moaned a little dizzy, thinking innocently that it was from eating so fast at dinner.

Drowned in her own sweat, anguished by the heat so suffocating that itchy between her legs. He opened his mouth and roared impatiently. Had a month already passed? As he could, he got out of bed almost dragging himself across the floor to get urgently to the bathroom kit. She opened the closet with so much anxiety that the products were scattered on the floor, the occasional shampoo spilling its contents. He didn't care too much, now he had more important things to take care of.

"It can't be," I sob. Her belly contracted so powerfully again that she ended up on her knees. She did not recall having been so suffocatingly hot. She felt the moisture between her thighs when I rub them out of necessity. Now he understood that rush to unite male and female when they were just beginning to be considered adults. Females were usually warm once a month when the full moon shone high in the dark sky. Also, he had known, from the many books he had read on the female body, that, as you turned years, the need for you to be taken was getting stronger. Until now, I hadn't felt the need to get fucked so badly.

I was involved in a pretty serious problem. Its heat had never passed without the inhibitirios and if it hurt now, he couldn't imagine how it would roar when midnight will come.

As best he could, he managed to hold himself up to go back to bed. With beads of sweat and red cheeks trying not to faint on the way. A delicious smell began to cloud her senses, these being much more receptive when his heat possessed her, a smell of honey, delicious honey coming from the closet. I drag my feet toward the cabinet, licking his mouth at how dry it was. When he opened its doors, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth fell open at the overpowering scent of the hanging garment. It was his jacket and his fucking scent.

Lucy slammed the door when she felt lucidity for a second. He had to go back to bed, even if he didn't want to, he had to. He couldn't continue torturing himself with her scent because that would make his situation worse.

But it didn't last long, her belly throbbed furiously again, taking away the little sanity she'd tried to establish. Her legs couldn't be any more wet from the exhorted amount of lubrication that was expelled from her vagina. His hole closing around nothing, urgently demanding to be filled by something, by an alpha's cock.

She opened the doors like a desperate woman. When the garment ripped, its scent not only penetrated her nose, it also contracted her belly even further. Lucy, lost in that exciting scent, ripped the jacket from the hanger, breaking it into a thousand pieces. He brought the garment up to his nose and breathed in its scent.

She growled completely overpowered, controlled by her scent, she ended up running down the hall in search of him.

I needed it to ease her.

He needed me to fuck her so badly.

He wanted his fucking cock between her thighs.

"Jungkook ..." I sob at the door. Anxiously scratching at the wood when I try to open it to find it closed. Jungkook woke up suddenly as a desperately sweet scent rose up his nose roses. I gasp, looking down at the sheets. His cock throbbed in need as I heard her moan behind the door.

He got up, sweating from his hands and his mouth suddenly dry. I put her ear to the door to hear her better.

"Get away," he growled. Lucy gasped needlessly, feeling distressed at his rejection. What he didn't know is that, Jungkook was controlling himself, he was using all his self-control not to knock down the door and fuck her in the hallway, open her beautiful legs and sink his cock deep inside her until he shouted her name.

"Please ... It hurts so much." His needy little howl was too devastating. Her irises took on the reddish color of her wolf when she squeezed her thighs and her wonderful lubrication rose up her nose. He licked his lips anxiously, too overwhelmed. He put his hand on the latch. I gasp at the anticipation.

But he shook his head away from the door.

"Go back to sleep, Lucy." He growled back. "I don't want to hurt you."

Jungkook slammed his fist against the door. Why did everything have to be so unfair? Why should he have known her like this? He cursed in fury when he heard him walk down the hall. He had perceived disappointment, sadness, much pain. Damn, he didn't reject her because he didn't want her, his damn erection screamed to sink into her tight pussy, but, the feeling of guilt was still installed in his chest.

He didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of her.

Too overwhelmed by shortness of breath, she ran to the nearest balcony. His hands hit the railing in anguish as he crashed into it. He stretched his neck back, his head back, the cool air calming his anxiety a little.

"My God, I've been following your scent all over the hall." A hoarse voice appeared from behind. Scaring her too much. Turning, he encountered Taehyung's mischievous pout. She clung to the wall as much as she could when she saw the air brazenly smelling. "Are you okay puppy?" I can help you with something?

"I don't think you can help me on this," I stammer in a hoarse tone. He didn't like the threatening look with which he was running her. He watched her with lust, his intense red eyes as he approached with slow steps.

"I think so," he assured. He smiled, gleaming his tongue in one step through his fangs. "But, I'm confused." Why aren't you fucking your husband? ”She scoffed, giggling wickedly at the need on her face. Delighting in the wet sweat that stuck her nightgown to her skin. Then, in an act that couldn't scare her anymore, Taehyung seemed to hit something on his head, stopping abruptly with a too dark, mischievous glow. “It hasn't taken you, yet.

"No, he, yes ...

"Don't lie to me or burn in hell, needy puppy," I whisper too attracted by my gasp. He strode over to me to stand in front of me, lightly imposing his body. I swallowed saliva burdened by the smell of pine that began to rise up my nose. Taehyung smelled great, but it wasn't the scent he wanted. I felt too small under his piercing predatory gaze. "Damn, how could I have rejected you and more when you have your heat?"

"He has not rejected me, I am the one who has decided to go through this." I tried to face him, thanking the cold weather for helping me to reduce the suffocation a little. But, I didn't count on him also being able to take advantage of the movement of the air to better inhale my scent and to know, through my heartbeat and my fear, that he was lying.

"But how capricious is destiny and what a beautiful coincidence. My parents are crazy because I do not commit myself, it is not my fault that the betas of my town are not pleasant to me. Like ... like you."

"You should listen to Jungkook and go back to bed."

I tried to get under his arm but he immediately got in the way.

"Oh! Wasn't it you who had decided not to relieve yourself?"

"I have to go," she sobs. This was getting out of hand, he could perfectly feel the need in his eyes, in the evil play of his tongue on his fangs.

"Don't go, going through the heat without a male is very hard." I can help you, let me ease you ...

"I'm already taken ..."

As I pulled my face away from his hand when I tried to stroke my cheek, I became hysterical. My heaving chest being stopped by his. I was very close, I wanted to go. Damn, I should have stayed in bed.

"Trickster pup, I can smell how needy you are from here." Just let me ...

"I warned you not to go near her." A deafening roar came from the balcony entrance. Taehyung stopped cornering me by turning abruptly. I shrugged my stomach full of fear. Jungkook roared furiously at his cousin, he was really afraid that in one of these he would jump against him and kill him. His gaze was so threatening, red irises, his chest heaving as he blew air out of his mouth.

"I have only offered my help." I was greatly surprised when I perceived fear in his tone, Taehyung seemed terribly terrified by the way he looked at his white knuckles.

"I'm going to slit your throat so deep that your pathetic alpha blood stained my mother's carpet," he roared. She screamed in fright when in overly striding strides, she approached Taehyung and lifted him up into the air before slamming his back against the wall. The chestnut groaned disoriented, coughing as Jungkook began to squeeze his neck.

"Jungkook ..." I sob scared to see him lose control like that. The muscles in his back tensed, then he dropped Taehyung's body to the ground, letting him cough from lack of oxygen.

"I told you to go back to your room, Lucy!" Damn it! ”He turned to her with all the rage in the world. Lucy cringed against the wall when she saw him approach.

"It's not even my room!" All this would not have happened if instead of marrying me you had married my sister! ”She cried. He ran away with tears clouding his sight. She couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't take her rejection, her screams anymore. She urgently needed to sink her head into her pillow and cry until she ran out of water on her body. She never imagined that she could yell at him like that, look at him with such contempt.

She entered the room slamming the door. She didn't care that Jungkook's parents heard her in her little tantrum. He ran to the bed and sat down as he placed his hand on his chest.

The door opened, then slammed shut more loudly than hers.

"Get up, let's talk," he demanded. Standing in front of the bed with his arms crossed. He was too irritated, he needed to control himself but that would require a time he didn't have.

"I don't want to talk to you," she denied as she drove her tear-stained gaze to the bed. She didn't want to look at him, she felt so humiliated and despised.

“You are an unconscious, how could it occur to you to wander around the house knowing that there is another male nearby that can smell you?” He growled, moving his arms from side to side, losing control. Thinking of everything that could have happened if he hadn't arrived on time, of the consequences that would have ruined everything. The moment an alpha marks you, you lose any chance of belonging to another male. The beta bite was easy to replace. But Taehyung was an alpha, if he had marked his precious neck, goodbye, because that would mean that his scent, his blood, his everything would belong to him. And that, that bitter feeling had him too upset. He didn't want it to belong to anyone but him, from the first time he smelled her, from the first time he saw her, he knew in the depths of his heart that this female would be for him.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course he does, you're my wife!"

“I am nothing of yours, nor have you even taken me!” His dominant roar caught him off guard. Accustomed to keeping situations under control, I let Lucy get up and push him away. Jungkook did not move, he was simply surprised by how really upset he noticed her. He felt so much disappointment, a craving so strong that it clouded his character. One more push, a heartbreaking sob, Jungkook caught his hands before he continued to hurt himself. Suddenly, all the anger, all the jealousy left her body, changing into a feeling of guilt. A terrible and distressing feeling of sadness. I hear her heart pound, her irises swell. She wasn't mad at him, she was mad at herself. That feeling ended up confusing him.

Lucy, still defeated by exhaustion, continued to stir in her arms, screaming, crying, pleading for him to leave. Jungkook ended up overpowered by his instincts, drawing her tightly to him. She was silenced by the touch of his hot breath on the sensitive skin of her upper lip. He swallowed, the alpha's fingers clenching his arm so eagerly that he would swear that tomorrow he would have bruises on his skin. I avoid eye contact, closing my eyes, tilting my head to avoid being controlled by her red irises.

"You haven't even kissed me ..." he confessed with all the pain in the world. Opening her eyes to send him a heartbreaking look, full of broken illusions. Jungkook stared at the deep detail of his yellowish irises. His fingers tightened more intensely, he could not control himself, less when the smell of his heat impacted urgently on his nose. Much less when an anxious moan emerged from her perfect lips after rubbing her thighs. Her eyelids half closed with excitement. Its brilliance startled at the bad need to be reciprocated.

Jungkook couldn't take it anymore, too much emotion, too much demure. He could no longer hold back, he had lost because he had fallen before his most primitive self. Jungkook squeezed his arm again, emitting a hoarse moan when he inhaled thoroughly. His smell. Damn it, it was dripping. It was ready for him, so that he would take it as he had wanted so much.

"Jungk ...

But he had already silenced her. He slammed her against the door to press her against his body. He grabbed her by the neck and brought her to his desperate mouth. Her lips parted wide, not caring that he was being too rough. He had been too long ignoring her wishes, now they would be more than rewarded. Lucy's eyes tightened at the addictive taste of his saliva. He groaned, letting his inner wolf take the reins, reaching up his hair to clench his hair in a fist as they eagerly ate their mouths. There was a moment when Jungkook parted his lips, causing such a flattering snap that he almost lost his identity. She, seized with excitement, ran to glue their mouths together, but Jungkook held her in place in an overly revealing growl. Lucy gasped in agitation from shortness of breath. Jungkook groaned before dominance kissing her again. Their kiss was so dirty, full of passion and accumulated lust. Out of necessity, Jungkook's hands slid down the curve of her waist until they reached her hip and clenched them eagerly. She stifled a pleading moan. He kept going down terribly slow, squeezing her bottom, making it collide with the protruding bulge that caged his pants.

"God I want to fuck you so badly." He almost drowned out his voice when he returned he felt the moisture of his crotch wet his needy erection. Lucy gasped in pain, a fear in her eyes making him stop abruptly. "Lucy, if you don't want us to ... We better stop now."

But she was too fucked up, she was still scared, but it wasn't because of the situation, or because of him, she was just panicked not to like him without clothes.

"I want to," she whispered, pulling her mischievous tooth closer to stretch her lip. Jungkook placed his open palms on his waist to bring his noses together and thus, not miss the detail of his dilated eyes.

"Fuck," I howl. Desperate, he urgently kneaded her butt making her moan. He crushed his hands on her thighs to lift her up. Her legs encircled his waist, her small body matched his so well. Jungkook didn't waste much time finishing taking her to the bed to throw her on the sheets. Her back bounced up the nightgown, revealing to her anxious eyes the sweet skin of her velvet thighs. Lucy, excited, tried to rub her thighs to calm the itch in her crotch, but Jungkook didn't let her. She crushed her hands to his skin and spread her legs too desperately. His hand went to his sweaty face, letting his fingers run in soft caresses down her neck, licking his lips at the sight so appetizing. He let his hand roam the endless ends of her collarbones, gently skirting the bone until she fell into the valley of her breasts with her nipples presenting herself enthusiastically to him. I knead one of her breasts while sighing. Lucy cried, dropping her head. Her delicious sweaty neck exposed for her mouth. I couldn't be more excited to mark it. Jungkook raised his corners to form a delightful smile, his eyes directed to the dark stain of her panties. "I can smell from here how needy you are for an alpha's cock."

"Please ..." I sob disturbed by the uncontrollable need I suffered. Her back was curved forward so as not to lose the sensation of his touch. With her legs open for him. Jungkook reached for her panties and gently squeezed her fingers. Making them wet and a little sticky. Lucy gasped, groaned, all she could emit was coming out of her half-open mouth. Her nightgown was almost ripped from her weak, dying body. Her nipples greeted him erect with excitement. On instinct, Jungkook licked his lips imagining what it would be like to have those beautiful, round and perfect breasts in his mouth. Another in his place would have lost his mind, ripped his pants off and started to fuck her, but maybe it was the time he had thought about having her so he wanted to have a little time, enjoy his body.

 He took off his shirt, revealing his majestic figure, those broad shoulders, well-marked pecs that gnashed with the desire of his mouth to try, his damn abs, and above all, that path of pubic hair that disappeared through his pants. Those who hid something much more attractive. Jungkook threw his head back leaving the sight of his wide and shiny neck as a reward for how wet the accumulated sweat had left him.

"Give me time, honey." It's been a long time since I've wanted to know the taste of your skin. ”I whisper under a persuasive tone. I put my mouth to her neck to start distributing wet kisses and small bites that did nothing but leave her wanting more. I stick my tongue out to run it inside her neck, her hot breath contrasting against the wet area leaving her completely on edge. Lucy tried to close her thighs but found Jungkook's hips. Her nipples tightened from the pressure of his chest coupled with hers. His hand hooked into her silky hair to stretch from the roots. Jungkook growled disgust bringing his mouth to hers anxiously. Lucy opened her mouth when she felt the pressure of his tongue on her lower lip. I kiss her hard, hard. The nails superficially scratched his broad back as he came down to attack her neck again, this time, much stronger. There was no more compassion, he kissed her, mojo and bit as he wanted.

Like the hand between their bodies to knead her breast urgently, she embedded her nails into his skin when her nipple cried out in pain from the pressure just exerted.

"Oh, Jungkook," she moaned uncontrollably as she felt her teeth roam over his collarbones. His bites, despite being, a little strong, there was some love in them, an affection that was represented with kisses to calm the bruises. He caressed with the surface of his lip until he reached the sensitive skin of his halo, which he wet with his tongue and introduced into his mouth. The salty taste of his skin was too addictive, he was sure, when he had the privilege of clenching his nipple with his teeth, that this game had made him a gambler. It parted, leaving a click too suggestive to slide into the other.

"Shit, from the first time I saw you I wanted to do this." I speak against his skin creating tickles. Lucy moaned as she punched the sheets when her separation was with a suction. "If your pathetic boyfriend hadn't been there, he would have ripped your clothes off and fucked you right there."

"I would have left you," I sob. Too lost in how her tongue sank slowly into her navel. Her body spasmed slightly as she felt an overly suggestive kiss on top of her panties. The pressure of his mouth had been so wonderful that I swear at that moment, that when he took that garment out and kissed her again, he couldn't live a single day without it. Jungkook let out a too hoarse laugh, his breath hitting her folds directly as one of her fingers pushed aside her panties.

"Would my bitch let me pierce her sweet kitty with my huge cock?"

Jungkook stretched his mouth with pleasure as his eyes never stopped looking at his needy gaze. Lucy swallowed nervously, anxious that her lips that brushed her tender spot would drop a little further. Jungkook licked his lips one last time before crushing a sweet kiss right in the center.

"Jungkook ..." she howled agitatedly as she felt more pressure from her sinful lips. Her tongue came to play an important role, starring in a walk between her folds leaving her with a dry throat. "God, yes! Jungkook please ..." She kept screaming ecstatically, and somehow, she loved it. His cock vibrated with enthusiasm inside her pants. She loved his pleading as he kissed her inflated clit. He brought a finger to the scene, stroking its red button so he could stick his tongue down. Lucy moaned uncontrollably with her legs too restless, Jungkook held her open with one hand while the other pressed her palm against his center, before taking the liberty of inserting a finger. His hole cutter sucked easily. A compassionate scream succumbed strongly when she felt what her first orgasm was. Her cheek was resting on the pillow with her mouth open for better breathing. Her belly rising and falling. Her legs dropping from exhaustion.

Jungkook broke up to enjoy his work. Seeing her so agitated just with his tongue made her want to tear her apart. I eagerly remove his pants to release his needy cock. Lucy's eyes widened at the noise and she looked at her. It was much larger than he had expected with the wet pink tip of his own precum. Jungkook moved his cock, stretching his skin, letting the beta's ears hear the wet snap of her masturbation. Her mouth became water but that did not remove the fear that began to help her. It was her first time, she had had an orgasm lubricating her entrance much more, however, that did not block the thoughts of how that would fit inside her little hole. She started to panic because until now she hadn't noticed the pain the first few times.

She tried to get up off the mattress too agitated but Jungkook wrapped her neck to lay her down again. Her red irises caused yellow ones to appear. Lucy began to stir from lack of oxygen while complaining in sobs. Jungkook groaned dominant, leaving her completely still. Pleasure clouded her mind again, leaving her under his control.

"Spread your legs for me, darling," I order too impatiently. Lucy spread her legs, clearing the way for her moisture to hit her nose again. With his free hand he brought the tip of his cock to his hole, letting just his touch cause impatient moans. I run the tip to lubricate with his moisture, Lucy dropped her head while panting too far. "Shit, your little wet kitten is soaking the tip of my cock. Do you want it inside you?"

"Yes," I sob. Spreading your legs wider if possible. Jungkook groaned satisfied at his submission. Her fingers closed enthusiastically in his throat.

"A lot?"

"A lot..."

   Sliding slowly so as not to harm him, finally, he introduced the first centimeters, causing both screams of pleasure. Jungkook started to get dizzy when his tight entrance pressed his walls against him.

"Shit, I won't be able to control myself, you're too close." I sob, letting out a shaky gasp. Too much pleasure was beginning to impose his impulses on his clarity. It was her first time, she really didn't want to split her in two, but it was so hard to stay steady when as he entered, inch by inch, she urgently spread her legs wider.

"Don't do it, take me however you want." You are my alpha I am at your disposal.

  She was so good that she took away what little sanity she had forced herself to keep. He placed himself faithfully on top of her, trying not to crush her completely. He slid his hand down her throat to the nape of her neck and pulled her into his desperate mouth. Their tongues were too anxious. She felt Lucy's nails adjust to her skin, her other hand stretching the strands of her disheveled hair. The kiss was cut off by her when Jungkook made his first lunge. Her head fell limp to the pillow, offering her neck without realizing it. Jungkook grabbed her hips to improve her fit. Lucy moaned again and he smiles on the skin of her chin.

"My sweet submissive puppy." He kissed her ear with a too dark tenderness. Lucy gasped as she let her lips stutter meaninglessly. Jungkook clenched his hips eagerly as he picked up a much more predatory rhythm. He ended up panting hoarsely against his ear. "Tonight I'll settle for taking you like that, spreading my legs as I sink the way I want." But the rest of the nights I want you with your ass up showing me that delicious ass.

"More, give me, more." I almost shouted. Disoriented by the cloud of pleasure that clouded her mind. Her nails leaving small furrows of reddened skin. His hands melted into her hips celebrating a devastating rhythm. It was no longer controlled, the need to make her moan was much stronger.

"Do you like how I fuck you?" I whisper agitatedly against her ear as the head of the bed hit the wall with fury. "My good bitch is going to carry my puppies."

"Yes Yes."

"Shit." He closed his eyes ecstatically. He had never felt such pleasure, it was as if all his instincts would rise to a thousand and his belly was about to explode in a wonderful way.

   Lucy gasped as the pressure returned to her lower abdomen. He brought his hands up to his neck when Jungkook lovingly assaulted his neck again. Lucy groaned in shock as she felt the sharp tips of her fangs crash against her warm skin. He didn't even know why they had appeared, Jungkook had only become aware of his presence when he tried to kiss an old ribeye.

"Take me," she gasped in overwhelming anxiety. Jungkook put his hand to his neck, turned his head to his liking, and finally sank his fangs into his flesh. Jungkook stopped his movements to prevent the wound from getting bigger. Not realizing that the orgasm overwhelmed them when she decided to drink his blood. When they were removed, two small holes were marked on his neck that would later disappear. Creating a bond for life. Lucy pressed her cheek to the fluffy surface with more than surprise. Feeling his cum dripping inside her, hitting her walls with enthusiasm as her small contractions milked him patiently. She was suddenly deeply excited.

A few minutes later, Jungkook came out of it. He lay on the bed with one arm tucked under his head. Lucy snuggled into his chest a little shy as she felt Jungkook's hand tighten on her hip to pull her closer.

"Why did you take so long?" She murmured a little self-consciously. He had just realized that he had been screaming too enthusiastically. She blushed embarrassed. Still a little dizzy, she crushed her cheek to his warm chest. His breath fell heavily against her hair, relaxing her.

"For fear of letting my impulses dominate me. I didn't want to hurt you."

"That time..."

"Yes, dammit, there was nothing I wanted in the world more than to eat your mouth and put your butt on my father's desk." But I shouldn't, we barely knew each other and I didn't want you to form a wrong image of me.

   Lucy put a hand on her chest and looked at him with her eyes open.

"And what image do you think I have of you now?"

"I don't care, because I'm going to do what I told you, Lucy." I love you every night with me.

"Do you love me?" Jungkook managed to perceive her emotion, as her heartbeat ran wild inside her chest, giving her away completely.

"I don't love you, I love you."

  They both drew a too cute smile.

"Me too, alpha."

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook smut #icons jungkook #bts fic #BTS jimin #BTSP #btsv #bts angst #bts fanfic #bangtan #fanfic #animals #wolfman #bts #networkbangtan #banner ads #jeon jeongkook #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jungkook werewolf #bts werewolf au #jungkook!xwerewolf #bts fantasy au #bts supernatural au #jungkook supernatural

[dadolorian]

A Second Chance - Part 1 Whiskey x F!Reader

A/N: I had an idea for a slow burn with Whiskey i couldn’t shake. Reader is Agent Schorle ,a short, curvy female employee at Statesman (Not a field agent). She works in the ‘PR’ department and is good friends with Tequila. This is a mix between canon and Fanon Whiskey, set after Golden Circle so it rewrites canon and he’s not a secret bad guy, living past the events of the movie. But he is still a womanizer while he is single. Like with most my x reader fics its more OFC than a traditional reader but i change it up so it can be read as a reader fic, meaning the reader is more of a character. This chapter is just their introduction/first impressions.  Also! I AM NOT American, so if i get any shit about America wrong, IDGAF. Credits: No Beta reader. HMU if you wanna be one for this series

Title: A Second Chance Fandom: Kingsman; the Golden Circle. Ship: Agent Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader Warning:  Bit of womanizing behavior from Whiskey (Surprise surprise), it’s not rejected by the reader character so its consensual. Nothing else for this chapter. Heads up before you get invested, not in this chapter but there will be triggering stuff as part of the plot in later chapters, and there will be kids in later chapters too, just in case either of those things aren’t your cup of tea. No use of Y/N in this chapter. There are two narrative perspectives in this story, 3rd person Whiskey perspective and 2nd person Reader perspective. Promise not to flip between them too often. Word count: - 2K Master List - coming soon Request status AO3 Link - coming soon Next part - coming soon

The first thing Jack Daniels noticed was not the way her pencil skirt hugged her ass, or the way her blouse struggled to contain her breasts, as much as his colleagues would later claim. He was well aware of his reputation as a womanizer and didn't exactly blame them for that immediate assumption, it was what most people noticed first about her anyway, why would Jack Daniels, the womanizing Cowboy be any different? No, the thing he noticed first was her laugh. It was so warm, angelic, he was entranced hopelessly from the first moment he first heard it in the Statesman hallway. He would give his damn hat to hear that sound grace his ears again.

He had gravitated over to her immediately, joining in on the little conversation she was having with Tequila. He tried to be subtle, he really did, waltzing up to the two of them with his best, charming smile, checking her out as he did so and nodding a greeting at his colleague. She was short, and curvy, her attire was office professional, meaning she probably wasn't a field agent, tidy, small heels showing her shapely curves of her legs, and soft, professional curls hung loosely, framing her round face. She was gorgeous. “Hey there Tequila,” he smiled, before nodding in her direction. “You gonna introduce me to your pretty lil friend here?” She blushed slightly, he noticed, as she pushed some of her neat hair behind her ear, she had a small shy smile on her face too, ‘cute as a button’ he thought. “Ahhh come on Whiskey, leave her alone,” Tequila groaned dramatically, making her giggle. Jack couldn’t help his smile growing at the sound. “Now now Boy,” he chuckled, patting Tequila's shoulder. “You can’t be hiding this pretty little thing from me and not expect her to catch my eye,” he added, shooting her a playful wink. She hugged the files she was carrying closer to her chest, blushing more and avoided his eye contact. Jack might have assumed she was uncomfortable if that smile wasn’t still playing on her lips. “She’s off limits, Whiskey,” Tequila sighed. “I think she can make her own mind up about that,” Whiskey grinned, elbowing the younger agent. “She’s a big girl. Now come on, show some manners and introduce me.” She giggled again and Tequila groaned, pissed off that already Whiskey’s stupid southern charm was working already. “Whiskey,” he sighed, already expecting the ungodly amount of flirting that was about to rain down upon his friend. “This is Schorle. One of our ‘behind the scenes’ agents.’PR’ department.” Jack flashed her a crooked smile as Tequila continued, motioning to the senior agent. “Schorle, this is Whiskey. I’ve told you ‘bout him before.” “Oh, have you now?” Jack chuckled, he put his hands on his hips and faced her more directly. “All good things I hope?” he asked her. She gave him another shy smile and Jack felt his heart soar. “I am well aware of you Agent Whiskey, and not just from Tequila here,” she said, now his heart felt like it had skipped a beat. Her voice was as angelic as her laugh! “Again, I hope it's all good things,” he laughed.  “Most the time, yes,” she hummed playfully. “My main job is hiding Statesman true existence from the public eye.” She flashed him a more coy smile and his grin grew. “Which means i tend to hear about certain escapades, such as a cable car sledding down a mountain.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, laughing nervously. “You certainly don't make my job easy sometimes, Agent,” she teased. Jack's expression was one of pleasant surprise, she wasn’t as shy as she appeared. Tequila laughed, pleased his friend was at least able to bite back at the other man. “She’s still off limits old man,” the younger agent muttered to him. “I am not that much older than you,” Jack retorted, making her giggle some more. “And as i rightfully pointed out earlier, she can make up her own mind about me i am sure.” Tequila was about to bite back but she interrupted whatever thought he was about to say. “He’s right on that Tequila. I can make up my own mind,” she said, giving Jack another smile. “And right now my mind is telling me i need to get back to work.” She gave Jack a nod and Tequila a friendly wave as she turned on her heels and went back to wherever her office was. Whiskey let out a long whistle when she was out of earshot, admiring her ass as her hips swayed. His staring was interrupted by Tequila wacking him in the chest with the back of his hand. “Hey! I’m only looking!” he pouted. “She didn’t seem to have a problem with me.” “Dang it Whiskey she's my friend!” Tequila groaned. “Just leave her alone, she don’t need none of that. “ “She’s not married,and I know she ain’t your girl,” Jack remarked. “She’s still my friend Whiskey,” the younger agent sighed. “I don’t want her gettin’ hurt.” Jack frowned at him. “Hey now that’s not fair,” he said sternly. “I know I have a reputation an all but you’re acting like I plan on breaking her heart.” “She’s one of the nicest people I ever met, she doesn’t deserve to be your current flavor of the month,” Tequila defended. “Now I take personal offence to that Tequila,” Jack countered. “I would like to think myself a gentleman and my intentions are purely honorable.” “The way you were staring at her ass tells me otherwise,” Tequila mumbled. “C’mon Whiskey, you don’t even know her. She’s just another pretty piece of ass to you and we both know it.” Whiskey gave him a disappointed look. Slightly upset his friend would think so lowly of him, but he had to admit his reputation did nothing to counter it. “It’s really bothering you isn’t it?” he asked, sighing when Tequila nodded. “Fine, look, I won’t chase her. If it means that much to you,” he sighed in defeat. He was still enamored with her, but if hooking up with her bothered Tequila so much he wouldn’t in good conscience be able to do so. “That a promise?” Tequila asked, holding his hand out for Jack to shake and seal the deal. “Yeah,” he sighed, taking the offered hand. “She must mean a lot to you,” he added, only getting another nod in return from the younger man as they shook hands. 

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You first noticed Whiskey long, long before the two of you ever actually met in person. You hadn’t been joking about dealing with the results of his missions, constantly having to kill stories in the press or send out false reports to police and media so that Statesman’s business remained out of the public eye. Your ‘PR’ department was often quite busy, constantly searching social media to kill any evidence that might have been captured by the public. It was a 24 hour job, one you were in charge of now.

Years ago, when you were a new hire, just one of the lackeys, your first assignment was to comb through social media to kill any evidence of Whiskey’s latest mission. You hadn’t slept for two days during that time, surviving on caffeine and an ambition to make a good impression at your new job. You could vaguely remember complaining to one of your co-workers about the agent who had gone in guns (and Lasso) blazing without considering the fact that smart phones were now a thing and that the target was a very public figure. That was the first time you heard of him, as your more experienced co-worker gushed over his skills as an agent while you sat and seethed at the ungodly amount of work he had caused you on your first assignment.

You could look back on that memory fondly now, and since then your opinion of him had changed as you heard more and more about him. He was a skilled agent, had a strong sense of justice and always got the job done. Sure, his methods were sometimes a little unorthodox and he was often quick to jump into the fray, but there was no denying his skill. He was a senior agent for a reason after all. And of course, you had heard about his reputation, no woman in the office hadn’t. He would flirt with any pretty thing that caught his eye. You used to think that your co-workers that fell for his charm were foolish for falling for it, given his well known reputation among Statesman, but that was before you met him in person. You had seen him in passing before, from afar, or glimpses of him in the social media posts you killed, he was handsome, sure, but it was a whole different level when you met him face to face. You thought you were safe from his charm, believed you were smart enough not to fall for it should it happen to come your way, but you also doubted you would ever be on the receiving end of it. You had been in the same room as him plenty of times in the past and he had never paid any attention to you, and not to mention you didn’t exactly fit his usual type. You were short, plump, nothing like the field agents he was used to working with, women who were physically fit enough to work alongside him and fight. Not to say you thought you were completely unattractive, sure it sometimes bothered you that your blouse could barely contain your breasts and that your stomach and thighs were a little too soft for your liking, but you weren’t blind. You could see the not so subtle looks as you walked past, the way people would try to discreetly check out your ass as you walked. It was a confidence booster for sure. It just never occurred to you before that you would be Whiskeys type. So the day the two of you met officially, you couldn’t help the blushes, he was attractive, and paying attention to you, perhaps it wasn’t so hard to see why women fell for his charm even with his reputation. You were just like every other woman he flirted with, but when he spoke to you it made you feel special. You supposed that was the appeal, why it was so easy for him. It wasn’t until you had excused yourself from his company and were able to calm down that you began to chide yourself for falling for his charm. You reminded yourself of his reputation, as handsome and charming as he was you didn’t want to be just another roll in the hay for him.

You sighed as you made your way into your office. Now the head of Statesman’s ‘PR’ department you were officially considered an ‘agent’, the perks in which included your own private office. You dropped your files off before making your way inside, ready to get back to work, trying to ignore the way Whiskey's attention had made your heart flutter and pretend you weren’t looking forward  to seeing him again.

TAG LIST: None yet

#Agent whiskey x reader #Agent Whiskey x you #Agent Whiskey x ofc #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x ofc #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x you #agent jack whiskey daniels x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels x you #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfic #my fic #Second chance #SC #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[minthysugamon]

Barell of a Gun (Hitman! Jimin x Reader)

(Warnings: This one is pretty dark. Please don't read if you feel uncomfortable at the mentions of Paid Murder,Gambling,Uncomfortable Situations and Kidnapping. This doesn't depict Jimin's real personality. It's only a work of fiction. Please don't associate Jimin with this after you read it,he isn't like that in real life. IT IS ONLY A WORK OF FICTION BASED ON A JAMES BOND-AGENT 47 TYPE OF CONDUCTING LINE)

Word count: 2045

As soon as night has fallen,he started to get ready. Pen,check. Knives,check. 9mm,check. Everything was going perfectly. Park Jimin never paid attention to the victim. At least,he never let his emotions rule over the goal he had in front of him. And that goal was the 1,000,000$ he will get after he eliminated the person in the portfolio. It's a well paid price,and until he does the job without being noticed,it's worth it. He never accorded time to his emotions. It's a rational job,find the person,eliminate them,get paid. Nothing really hard. He prefers to say eliminate because killing would make his targets look like victims,whilst most of them are just rotten people.

"Agent 91,welcome. Please type in the password to unlock." His computer displayed the following words. He typed it in once. Doesn't work. The fourth time,same thing happened. "Fuck. Not again. I don't have time for this shit right now." Jimin was starting to get agitated. The fifth time,he just scanned his retina,hoping it would work. And it did. Thankfully. Because if it hadn't,the whole fuck-up would've cost him a lot of money and primarily his life,probably.

While sitting in the car,you had some Depeche Mode song your brother was blasting earlier in his room,stuck on repeat in your head. It was called Barrel of a Gun or something,the guitar riff was kinda cool so it stuck to your neurones. The ride to the casino was accompanied by an awkward silence,your date for the night has chosen some pompous place to dine at and now wanted to go gamble some money away. He was the son of some rich politician at your school,of course he would do something like that. "Did you like the meal?" The guy placed a hand on your knee,not as if you had asked,but for the moment you didn't do anything. "Yes,i liked it,even thought the wine was a little bit dry for my taste." He simply smirked and rolled up the partition in the back of the Limousine before his hand has made its way higher up on your thigh. "Well..if it can comfort you,i know that something won't be as dry as the wine tonight." Breaking point. You took his hand into yours and simply smiled. "Jacques,listen. I appreciate your gestures and all,but please,please,pretty please,don't ever fucking touch me again without me consenting to it." You heard a pop coming from the bone of his hand,not realising you were literally almost breaking it so you had let it go.

Jimin had stepped into the grand hall of the Casino of Monte Carlo,getting the casual verifications done. He stood at the roulette table,and since he had some time to kill,he didn't mind gambling away some thousands. The main point was to blend in,not to be outstanding. "Mesdames,Messieurs,Faites-vos jeux." He had forgotten how wonderful the french language sounds...as wonderful as a cat choking on some plastic wrap. His bet was put on the number 3,his lucky number. Not that he was superstitious,but it always brought him chance,so...why not this time? "Les Jeux sont faits." As soon as the roulette started spinning,he looked around himself and finally saw his target. But it wasn't planned that he will have company.

Sitting besides Jacques while he was playing a hand,needless to say,it was more than just boring. You never wanted to go home as much as you did now. Plus,the high-heels were killing your feet,it was a plus reason for you to just get up and leave. But you didn't. Simply because he was already kind enough to take you on a date,so,you had nothing more to do than just sit beside him and observe. Jacques wasn't good at Poker,even if he liked to think the opposite,and his loss was already over 100,000€. If he were a simple man,he would already be indebted,but it wasn't the case. The game only started to be interesting when another man sat down at the table and joined the party.

"May i?" Jimin asked with a small smile on his lips. He knew his target was beside him,it will be easier to calculate his every moves. But he didn't realise it will be harder since you were in the frame too. As soon as the game started,he saw that the guy wasn't good at playing,only bluffing,so,he took this to his advantage and told himself he will use the "I'm just tryna help you bro" card later. Jimin's eyes were mostly on you though,and he didn't calculate his emotions,but he would've been lying if he said you weren't beautiful.

You were looking at the cards in Jacques's hands. Seeing the 3 others on the table,he was already fucked,but of course,he had to bluff. "50,bet" echoed from the man beside you and everyone folded. Except one. The new player at the table. "Oh...i see you play with big amounts...let me make it more interesting then. Calling 1600." The black haired man's proposition made you jump a little bit. It wasn't only 1600€,but 1,600,000. "So..? What do you think? Reasonable proposition,no? Or...are you scared of losing?" The guy smirked and your partner stood up. "I'm going for a smoke. Pause the game." "Man,it isn't such a bad proposition,but okay...let's say 1,400,000 to save your honor." He followed Jacques to the balcony. Which was a pretty bad idea knowing how he can get when he's angry,you knew how out of hand the situation could get,he was the same at Uni. Anger Issues was his middle name.

Jimin was only trying to provoke the poor guy. Poor...let's not say that. He was the kid of an asshole that got rich by scamming poor people. Let alone,the father was a politician. The only way for Jimin to attain his final target was to hurt him. Not that he had to,but it was more effective this way. "Stop fucking following me. I have enough of your gimmicks. I saw how you were looking at him. You're on a date with me,not him." The hitman simply laughed. "Oh..you thought your little girlfriend came after you? Believe me,she has better things to do. Now,if you excuse me..." Gun cocked. Silencer already on. And fire. The bullet went straight through the younger one's head,in between the eyes. "Bull's eye. Good." As the body of the guy has fallen,Jimin started to wipe his silencer and put the pistol away. Too bad the girl was at the balcony as he did it.

"What the fuck have you done? WHO THE FU-" You screamed at him,but the scream hadn't live to its full potential as the guy from the table had silenced you with a hit to your head. You woke up five hours later,tied to a chair,in a living room in some old ass apartment,still propably in southern France. "Rise and shine babygirl,you're safe now. My name is...you have no buisness knowing it,but call me 91. Or Jay. Whatever suits you." As you looked around you,you saw nothing you could recognise. Only the feeling of the rag on your mouth was prominent,with the bounds around your wrists and legs. "I guess i should take off the gag...but can i trust you to not scream?" You nodded,already planning to get away somehow. As Jay took off the gag you inhaled and tried to scream but he had his hand in front of your mouth. "I should've killed you when i had the chance. I didn't need any kind of witnesses. But here i am,trying to plan out something so you don't talk. Now. Stop screaming or i'll send a bullet flying through your brain. Also..what's your name again?" He knew it of course...but wanted to hear it as he took off his hand of your mouth and looked at you. "Wasn't that your initial plan? And my name is (Y/n)." The sass in your words left him surprised enough to smile and unload his gun. "Wow,getting sassy i see. I like it." "Why did you kill him? Was it because he was involved in some shady buisness?" You talked way more than you should have. And Jimin liked that. More information means more time...which means a better approach towards the target. "What do i look like? A social justice warrior? Honey,i get paid for shit like this. But now,my only problem is you. What should i do with you? You weren't in the frame. And now you are here,bound to a chair...don't get me wrong,i like the view,but you shouldn't have wandered away from that goddamn table yesterday." You simply lowered your head and looked at his hands. He was fidgeting. Unable to decide what he should do. "You should probably kill me then. I mean,if i am too much to handle,and since you know i'll be talking as soon as i get out of here,you should just choke me to death...quick and effective." He smiled and took your chin with two fingers so you were looking into his eyes. "Let me think about it. But i already know i won't kill you...in the end,you're truly innocent so..there would be no fun in that." "So...you're pretty much a social justice warrior then" He let your chin go and stood up to walk around the apartment.

Jimin knew killing you would've made too much mess,plus,cleaning the whole appartment after it would have taken too much time. Plus...he kinda started to like you. You were the type of girl he could settle with. So he went with plan B...or more like,he wanted to go with plan b which was about to let you go and threaten you to not talk. But as soon as he heard footsteps coming towards the apartment,Jimin changed his mind and chose Plan C. "You'll be coming with me. We have to get away. I already lost more than 3 hours with you getting in my way."

You were quickly untied and he secured a gun around your thigh. "You know how to use one? Just in case,to be safe." Why on earth would he give you a gun? "I could kill you right now if i wanted." "Yeah,i know,but you don't want to. That's the positive point. Now open the window and get out." God knows why you obeyed him,but it was almost automatic. Did you like the rush of the situation? Maybe yes. Maybe it was simply because you were scared...maybe it was because you kind of liked the way the whole situation turned out. He was following you as soon as he cleared the area,and unlocked his car. "Get in. I'll be here soon. No more than 2 minutes." "Huh? Where the fuck are you going?" "Getting my shit and then i'll be here." And with that,he was already on his way.

No more than two minutes after,he was back with his suitcase and the briefcase containing some papers,his pc and most importantly,the money. "Buckle the belt. We'll be on the road for 10 to 15 hours..." "Where are we going?" He simply smiled and turned the engine on. "Let that be a surprise..." "So...you're pretty much kidnapping me,right?"

He chuckled and looked into the rear-view mirror. "It's better than the barrel of a gun against your head at least. And...you'll see,it won't be as bad as you think."

Was this really the life you were about to live? Probably. Was it safe? Probably not,but did you have any other choice? No. But...little did you know,it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

(Y'all,i'm sorry if it is bad...i really wanted something different but in the end idk...it doesn't seem good to me...i let you all be the judge)

#bts #bts scenarios #bts au #jimin au #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #bts hitman au #hitman au #bts imagines #bts scenario

[faedawayyy]

I FUCKING LOVE THIS ALBUM AND THE MEANING OF THE SONGS ARE ALREADY SO CEMENTED IN MY HEAD. PLS. 

THE CONCEPT OF JUSTICE IN DALLAS’S CASE IS LIKE, GIVING JUSTICE TO THE STORIES AND MOMENTS HE’S LIVED THROUGH. usually, he is very quick to be harsh and talk negatively of things and people but actually, he has a deeper perspective but is too scared to show it or at least he has been in the past. i think i’m trying to develop him in a new direction (ish). he isn’t a saint but i think he’s definitely ready for newer chapters. 

2 MUCH “Don't wanna fall asleep, I'd rather fall in love 'Cause eternity with you ain't long enough Two seconds without you's like two months And that's too much” a song about all of his relationships. i feel like this is definitely how dallas feels with ALL of his relationships, whether he claims to love or hate them now. he definitely admires people and puts them on pedalstals and he’s his own biggest enemy because if he could verbalise his feelings properly, people would probably feel more valued by him. the chorus definitely points to how he feels like he knows every romantic relationship he has will be over. they all just feel like ticking time bombs and deep down he thinks he’ll end up alone. 

DESERVE YOU  I feel like I don't deserve you tonight It's in the way that you hold me I don't deserve you tonight It's in the things that you show me I need you, don't let me go”  a song for charlie. she’s his best friend and this is definitely a platonic song. she’s the one friend (girl, anyway) that’s stood by him and not criticised him or patronised him, but also hasn’t made things messy by blurring the lines between them. he knows he doesn’t appreciate her enough but he’s also massively worried about disappointing her/not living up to the person she seems to think he can be if he tries. she was the person who was there at his very lowest. it’s about him feeling fully accepted by her too.

AS I AM  “Sometimes, I don't know why you love me Sometimes, I don't know why you care Take me with the good and the ugly Say, "I'm not goin' anywhere" his real fans. the ones who he sees constantly defending him and sticking up for him, despite all of the shit that he’s put them through lmao because he’s definitely not made it easy to support him but he is genuinely grateful (as much as he moans about fancons and being bothered). 

OFF MY FACE  “'Cause I'm off my face, in love with you I'm out my head, so into you And I don't know how you do it But I'm forever ruined by you” soraya. it’s a love song but also a play on his battle with drugs and how his addiction came in between them. the song lines definitely go back and forth between a stereotypical love song (for her) and a more toxic love song (for the drugs) and how he couldn’t bring himself to part with them for her. 

HOLY  “On God Runnin' to the altar like a track star Can't wait another second 'Cause the way you hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me Feels so holy” charlie, disney, ruby, adrian, matt, evan, basically all of his close friends. the song is pretty self-explanatory. 

UNSTABLE  “I tried to scare you, scare you away Showed you the door, you adored me anyway When I was broken in pieces You were my peace of mind, you were my peace of mind.” a lot of these songs are going to be about coming to terms with the truth about his relationship with soraya and realising that he was the problem, because he’s always found it easier to point at anything else. 

MLK INTERLUDE  “You died when you refused to stand up for right You died when you refused to stand up for truth You died when you refused to stand up for justice for all of his faults, dallas has ALWAYS spoken up about bigger social issues. especially racial inequality. i think he’d put this on here for ally-ship purposes but also to remind people that there are bigger problems than trying to decode what each song is about. i think the speech itself connects to him because there are SO MANY people at st judes who villainise him lmao and run their mouths about how bad he is, but then stay quiet for shit that actually matters. so i guess its kinda shade to them too. 

DIE FOR YOU  “Pain and passion, my desire You're the right now and what will be You know I would die for you The rest of my life for you” ZARA. zara is the only girl he’s been linked to that has made him meet his match. she always gave him the energy he gave her and that was a first for him, bc he was so used to having the upper-hand. it’s a song about feeling like he’s been pulled out of the rut and the mess he ended up in with soraya x julian and everything else. 

HOLD ON  “Painting stars up on your ceiling 'Cause you wish that you could find some feeling, yeah, you You know you can call me if you need someone” ruby. he saw how hurt she was after her break-up and he’d been there. they weirdly fell back together after so many years and he didn’t want to see her fall into the heartbreak with ros that she did with soraya.

SOMEBODY  “Yeah, everybody needs somebody (Everybody needs somebody) Somebody to wake up to when everyone's gone So if you need me, then you got me (If you need me, then you got me) I'll be the shoulder you cry on” charlie, again, but this time saying he’ll be the best friend to her that she’s been to him. 

GHOST  “If I can't be close to you I'll settle for the ghost of you I miss you more than life  And if you can't be next to me Your memory is ecstasy I miss you more than life” the very last song he’s wrote about soraya. i think he knows deep down that they’re not getting back together but he is deeply in love with her & she is the love of his life, and i feel like he takes comfort in knowing that he’s significant to her too. 

PEACHES  “I got my peaches out in Georgia (Oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (That's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (Bad-ass bitch) I get my light right from the source, yeah (Yeah, that's it)” nothing LMAO 

LOVE YOU DIFFERENT  “There’s beauty on your lips I drown with every kiss I'm not used to this There's nothing I won’t give Don't like makin' promises Just remember this” his relationship with gigi. i think now that he’s away from it and well over it, he sees it more for what it is and the fact that empty promises and trying to be more than they wanted to be kinda ruined them. i feel like this song was written in past tense because they’re obviously not in love any more. 

LOVED BY YOU  “It's still your love I'm always looking for It's just the way I'm wired Whether I'm wrong or right I've only got one thing on my mind” EVERYONE. i think at his core, dallas is desperate to be loved by people and the reason he pushes people away is because he doesn’t think they’re ever going to. it addresses the people around him, his fans, music academies. he acts like he wants no approval but it’s really the opposite. 

ANYONE “You say that I won't lose you, but you can't predict the future So just hold on like you will never let go Yeah, if you ever move on without me I need to make sure you know that...” soraya

LONELY “Everybody knows my past now Like my house was always made of glass And maybe that's the price you pay For the money and fame at an early age And everybody saw me sick And it felt like no one gave a shit They criticized the things I did as an idiot kid”

growing up

#save

[leupagus]

dynamicsymmetry: One of my primary reasons for shipping some of the stuff I do is because OH GOD DO NOT PREFER, and it's my own reaction that I want to explore, what is so uncomfortable about it. Like, Spike and Buffy? Good god can you get any more toxic in s6

hasturpriestess: ship culture went wrong when people collectively decided that your ships reflect what you, personally, want out of a relationship, rather than what dynamics you find interesting in the context of the media and characters.

[twitter thread:]

dynamicsymmetry: And yet that relationship is fascinating to me. I don't want it, and it doesn't even vaguely resemble the relationship I have. If I did have a relationship like that I would be doing everything possible to leave it.

But the dynamics of it are so interesting.

dynamicsymmetry: This attitude toward shipping expands outward into a general theory of the case regarding fiction as a whole, which is that you cannot ever explore Bad Things, and if you must, you have to include a gigantic disclaimer on every page about how THIS IS A BAD THING

dynamicsymmetry: Think about how much fiction is no longer acceptable under the terms of that theory. Think about how many tremendously important works are beyond the pale.

This is some fucked up shit.

dynamicsymmetry: There are a number of reasons why I'm very insistent on people not dismissing this movement in fandom as "only" fandom. It isn't going to stay confined to fandom. It's a worldview, and it's a poisonous and dangerous one.

dynamicsymmetry: It places harsh, radical restrictions on what we're allowed to write about and how we're allowed to write about it, and it cloaks itself in the language of moral authority, as well as appropriating social justice discourse.

dynamicsymmetry: And it doesn't look at works it finds morally unacceptable with a genuinely critical eye. I mean, of course it doesn't: moral panickers never do. That's part of their MO. Their first principles require the total rejection of nuance.

What other ideological movements does this sound like?

dynamicsymmetry: I don't know what size a percentage antishippers/antis make up in fandom. I suspect they're a very loud minority. That's often how these things go. However.

dynamicsymmetry: They appear to be primarily seeded in the incoming generation of fandom, which is a problem. They teach this ideology to the fans coming after them. Who teach other fans.

Fandom already has a big problem with communicating communal history.

dynamicsymmetry: They hate AO3 because AO3 is, as far as they're concerned, primarily a haven for horrible nasty immoral people writing about disgusting immoral things, but also because they have no idea what AO3 is about or why it exists. These people don't read Fanlore.

dynamicsymmetry: (The fact that so many of them still use http://fanfic.net despite it being outrageously hostile to fandom for most of its history as well as being hideously ugly and astonishingly poorly designed tells me so much)

dynamicsymmetry: And if you're making space for one kind of transgression, guess what: you kind of have to make space for a bunch of other kinds.

Which isn't to say all, or that some kinds can't be called out. Racism is not acceptable, for example. It should be called out.

dynamicsymmetry: But there's also all the difference in the world between saying "this is unacceptable and here's why and there's no place for it in this space" and "YOU ARE A HORRIBLE PERSON FOR WRITING THIS AT ALL, INSERT SUICIDE BAITING HERE"

Which is literally what they do.

dynamicsymmetry: "You can't post this here, it's harmful to people in our community, you need to go somewhere else with it" =/= "IF YOU WRITE THIS EVER YOU SHOULD FUCKING DIE"

Again, they literally do this. This is their position.

dynamicsymmetry: Talking about why certain things are potentially harmful and maybe shouldn't be tolerated, or should at least be closely scrutinized, is not the same thing as condemning the disgusting person who wrote it and launching a harassment campaign.

dynamicsymmetry: There's no space for *why* this person wrote what they did. There's no allowance for any examination of what the work is actually doing. If it has X in it, it's disgusting and the person who made it should stop or die.

dynamicsymmetry: If they do allow that space on any basis, they want hard evidence that you're working through some kind of trauma, complete with witnessed legal statements from people who can attest to the truth of your claim.

dynamicsymmetry: And mostly they don't allow that at all. You can't create works about X. Ever, under any circumstances. Everything must be pure and wholesome and inoffensive, and they get to decide what those words mean.

dynamicsymmetry: Because *you are only allowed to write/create about completely desirable things*. Because there is no other way to create. No other form of creation is possible. It's not that they think you *should* only create stuff you want, it's that they think anything else *is impossible*.

dynamicsymmetry: Again, this isn't going to stay confined to fandom. This is an ideology. This is weltanshauung. This is a notion of what is acceptable and what is not.

And really, do we want *anyone* in fandom who thinks suicide baiting is appropriate behavior?

dynamicsymmetry: These people need to be pushed back against, and called out, and kicked out of fandom spaces. That doesn't mean harassing them, it doesn't mean adopting their tactics, but there can't be any place for them in a healthy community. If they behave, they can come back.

dynamicsymmetry: And when people are being abused and harassed and hounded by them, those people need to be supported and protected on every level. This has to be a team effort, because it's about protecting what's made us strong.

dynamicsymmetry: And it's about protecting our stories and our art. It's about protecting the very theory of the case, as I said. That it's possible to write about disturbing things. That it's possible to write about relationships we do not want or think are good.

dynamicsymmetry: That's the core of the argument: not that this should be *allowed*, but that *it is possible*. You have to start from there, because they don't accept or understand or believe that.

dynamicsymmetry: Whew, this became a thread. Sorry, I just have a hell of a lot of feelings about this as someone who likes to write morally transgressive things (and also stuff that is frankly fine but they've decided isn't) and has been targeted for it.

#posting this thread here because so much of what they talk about here is what I've experienced in SC fandom #and fandom in general more recently #this idea that if it's not what you want in real life then it shouldn't be written #is a deeply strange one considering fandom's history #and I think this general contempt for and distrust of that same history from younger/newer fans is part of the problem #there are people in SC fandom telling my friend to kill herself! #like HOW do you get to that point???

[kihyunswrath]

An essay on why I fight for Wonho

I think there has been too much of this “why do you even care that much?” bullshit lately and I’d like to make things clear, at least for my part. And I am assuming many other Monbebes can relate.

Indeed, why do I care? Wonho was never my bias, I have always liked other groups too, I have seen hundreds of groups come and go, it’s just one member in that group and although I want him to return, I actually want this entire industry to burn down to ashes even more and yes, that would mean death sentence to all idol groups. 

But first of all, let me ask this question in return: Why does it bother you that we care? Who gets to define what’s a useless endeavor? What makes you think I can’t simultaneously care for “more important” issues? Why the hell are you judging us for wasting time on this, when we all already know you wasted days watching that useless Youtube vine compilation, binge-watched that one Netflix series you didn’t seriously even care about, played that one stupid mobile phone game when you should have been sleeping, ate those two boxes of cookies that could’ve lasted you two whole weeks? Who are you to say things are useless just because it’s not your favorite idol group or whoever the fuck you care about, who’s under attack? Why do you think we have explaining to do, when literally none of this has anything to do with you personally and it’s literally you who fail to see the implications this incident had?

I don’t need to explain why I found a person inspiring as an idol and human being, why I found his background story motivating and moving and why I found his presence in Monsta X very important for the entire group’s mental health, group dynamics, success and happiness. I don’t need to explain why I find it upsetting that the people I cared about are torn apart because of no fucking reason, and that I can see that pain from their faces as they’re forced to pretend Wonho does no longer fucking exist?

I don’t fucking think I need to explain why I have empathy for a person who is under a police investigation just because. I don’t think I need to explain why I don’t find it fair that someone is under an attack for doing something that is not deemed as illegal in the most civilized, democratic countries. I don’t need to explain why I want to defend someone who’s kicked out of his group because of conservative internet trolls and a couple whose own background is about ten times more shady than Wonho’s. I don’t think I need to justify myself protesting for him, when he is fired from a job that has absolutely nothing to do with the things he’s being accused of. I don’t think I need to explain that unlike many others, I am indeed capable of reflecting this incident against the bigger context and see how flawed the entire Korean legislative system is. 

But let me do your homework for you asshats and explain what this bigger context is. It’s the context where simply having an allegation of whatever kind placed against you is enough to ruin your entire career. The context where people are literally lying about a person’s background and have been caught doing that, but can still continue with the investigation. The context where people can be punished again and again for things they did ages ago, apologized for, moved on and learned from. The context where literal rich drug dealers, convicted criminals sitting in prison, their minions and ENTIRE companies (cough pdx101 cough) might be able to escape from justice, but this one unfortunate person whose existence is only justified by the Korean population if he is superhumanly perfect and flawless, is brought down for allegedly committing a crime that was not harming anybody and was committed six fucking years ago. The context where you can be punished for something so meaningless that it feels like there is indeed space for a conspiracy theory or two. The context that paints idols as literal gods and goddesses who are not allowed to have pasts, backgrounds, redemption arcs or flaws to their character. The context that is taking idols from their hard-earned positions just because someone influential enough had a personal grudge against them. This context where Koreans are not protected by their own companies or labor unions but can be treated like non-human playthings, chess pieces and pawns just for having human traits.  

I don’t think I need to explain why I have empathy. I don’t think I need to explain why this bigger picture I see doesn’t only clash with my morals, but also potentially hurts hundreds of thousands of other people, because something like this could easily happen to them, too, especially if we now use this incident as an example of how things should be handled in similar situations. And if you as a person fail to connect the dots, if you personally fail to see why this is giving an ugly view into a ruthless society many of my friends and loved ones have no other options but to live in, I think that’s on you. That’s literally your personal problem, not mine.

Wonho was not inspiring because he was flawless, he was inspiring because he demonstrated character growth. He was not inspiring because he never did any mistakes, he was inspiring because he kept improving and kept sharing his love and gratitude toward his fans. He was not inspiring because he had wealth, connections and endless virtuosity, he was inspiring because he built his career from nothing and still remembered to explicitly thank his family, his friends, his loved ones and his fans every single day. That alone is something we can’t say from many other people.  

And if you think my argument is flawed because I was biased? Yes. I am biased. It’s not suspicious that people care about stuff more when it turns out to be personally relatable. Stop fucking pretending you are so virtuous, wise and pure that you already fought against bigotry, oppression, discrimination and bullshit in its all forms, way before you were even fucking born. That does not give you more social justice woke points, it just makes you annoying. Just because some Monbebes woke up to notice how flawed, ugly, embarrassing and pathetic the kpop industry can be now that their own favorite idol is attacked, is not a bad thing if it leads to them protesting against similar incidents in the future. Just because people cannot fully grasp issues before it has something to do with themselves doesn’t mean they can’t now use that realization as a boost to change the entire society. 

Yes, we intend to not bring only Wonho back, but also bring down the entire industry that made it possible for things like these to happen. Yes, we as human beings are capable of empathizing with people who we don’t have much to do with, but it’s not wrong if we fight even more fiercely when we try to protect our own. When was the last time you have done something similar? 

If our movement brings light to the fact how little protections workers have in Korea, if our movement makes people see how devastating consequences bullying and baseless accusations can have on people, if our movement continues talking about the same problem that caused a person to commit literal suicide a month earlier? If our movement makes it transparent to everybody how much power all these companies have over their idols and how they can not only treat them like shit after trusting and rooting for them for several years, but also silence all the remaining members and force them to continue even if they’re at a breaking point? If our movement brings light to the fact that maybe, just maybe it’s not fair to punish people for things that they might not only NOT have done, but also are literally meaningless even if he did them ALL, especially because they happened before he ever even was an idol? 

Well, I’ll call it a movement that exists for a good fucking reason.

One of my Korean friends, after being told about this, said that well, the only thing I now need to do is to change my favorite group and move on with my life, because I am literally just a customer and I can’t change things. And you know what? That is exactly the problem here. Without knowing it, she summarized the entire problem up perfectly with that one sentence. 

She and so many other Koreans (and non-Koreans) consider idols mere products. They think idols are here to sell us a certain image of a perfect, successful person who does not really exist as a human being. Idols just represent something the Korean society aspires to be, but if enough people get fed up with them for whatever reason, just to bolster their own feelings of revenge and jealousy like in this case, idols can be dumped and forgotten in a matter of minutes. That hurting one idol does not really matter, because there are people lining up behind him to do his job even better. That being an idol is an endless cycle of improving oneself, requiring less and less time for resting, recovery, privacy and human rights and asking less and less forgiveness from the audience. That if you get an important position in the society, it’s on you if you cannot handle the negative publicity that might follow. That if you have done one mistake once, it prevents you from ever moving on in your life, because it can come and bite you in the ass whenever, arbitrarily, just because, even if technically you had already been forgiven long time ago. That people who have gotten money and fame do not earn those positions because of hard work, but because they are supposed to be superhuman. And because there is no such thing as a superhuman, every and any idol can be brought down whenever they show the smallest sign of humanity. Even if that sign of humanity is just them showing open solidarity and empathy for a friend and colleague that was wrenched from them for no reason.

She and so many other Koreans think the only thing they can do as normal citizens is to pretend this one “flawed, miserable” individual never existed, because they are powerless against the decisions of the companies, press and rich conservative trolls?

And for some reason, somehow, these same Koreans fail to see how that reflects the state of their entire society and how it affects their own rights as workers, as human beings. They fail to see this very, very crucial factor: that idols are more similar to everyday Koreans than they are to the entertainment companies, wealthy chaebol CEOs and a couple of filthy rich drug dealers who escape their own punishment because of their even richer dad.

Idols are NOT extremely wealthy celebrities who have a freedom to choose their own paths, influential politicians who can escape from scandals after scandals or sons and daughters of the company leaders and estate owners of Korea. 

They are workers who have inhumane working conditions. They are faces to faceless, cruel companies who are intentionally hiding behind them to cover their own tracks. 

Idols have no real rights, freedom or future, and thus, they represent us normal people. What you do to one of these idols, you essentially do to every single one of his/her fans. You take our dreams away, you punish us unfairly for things we tried to learn from, you take away our voices that we used to express our own oppression and challenge the status quo.

Idols are not us, but they represent us more than any of these companies, leaders, rich heirs and heiresses and CEO’s could ever do. 

And that’s why I’m fighting for Wonho.

__

And please miss me with that cultural relativism bullshit. I know injustice when I see it. I can distinguish suffering and pain even in cultural contexts I am not born into. Also? Maybe if Koreans don’t want us to meddle with how they handle their own problems, maybe they should have really been thinking twice before trying to buy the entire world with the help of their idol industry. We can hold companies accountable. We can demand change. Companies and wealthy shitheads are not representatives of a culture. We know there are Koreans with us in this fight. 

And if this doesn’t change with us, right now, today... it will sit down with us until something like this happens again, and then the change will come in the shape of a fucking tsunami. 

And what are you going to do at that point, stand in the fucking way, or pretend your past mistakes can no longer hold you accountable?  

#monsta x #monstax #kpop #wonho #shownu #kihyun #jooheon #hyungwon #changkyun #minhyuk #mine #gif not mine

[schraubd]

Zioness Has Another Manifesto

Zioness, the progressive Zionist group, has released a new "activist's guide" on the issue of racial justice. It consists of:

One page on the need to overcome implicit bias;

One page on the need to "show up" for racial justice, even when one encounters antisemitism; and

Six pages on how to respond to antisemitic tropes (many, though not all, Israel- or Zionism-related) one might encounter while engaging in racial justice work.

This distribution of attention -- centering antisemitism in a pamphlet supposedly focused on racial justice -- has caused Zioness to be the target of numerous social media dunks. I think many of them are deserved, albeit with a few minor reservations. Here are my quick thoughts:

From its inception, my primary critique of Zioness -- and I've expressed this personally to their leadership -- is that they resolutely refuse to declare what progressive values demand with respect to Israel. Their justification for their reticence is that they are a domestic policy organization -- a response that is never going to sit well for a group called "Zioness". And documents like this only emphasize why this stance is untenable: Zioness can't forward opinions about Israel and then say "we don't take a position on that" when people ask them to register opinions on Israel. It's a circle they're never going to be able to square, and until they steel themselves and have the guts to forthrightly say "progressivism demands X, Y and Z out of Israel", people are going to going to be justified in looking at them with a skeptical eye.

It may be that a guidebook offering suggestions on how to respond to antisemitic tropes a progressive Jew may encounter while engaging in racial justice activism would be useful. But if you're going to make such a resource, don't title it "Racial Justice: An Activist's Guide". An activist's guide to racial justice should center questions of racial justice -- period. This is the locus of the criticisms Zioness is getting over this document, and it is absolutely correct. Creating a document on "racial justice" that has barely any direct discussion of racial justice is almost impossibly cringe-worthy.

Of course, the possibility that it might be useful to have a guidebook on how to respond to antisemitism while engaging in racial justice work also poses the question of whether now is the right moment to center that conversation. There is, shall we say, good reason to be skeptical on this front.

What little substance there is on racial justice is, to be generous, perfunctory. I'm probably more attached to implicit bias as a useful framing device for understanding contemporary racism than many of my colleagues in the progressive world (it's falling out of vogue), and even I'd say that talking about that alone is woefully incomplete. This is a case where something is worse than nothing -- if they hadn't made the limp gesture towards talking about racial justice qua racial justice, maybe it would have been clear that this document was meant to serve a different purpose (namely, "Responding to Antisemitic Tropes in Racial Justice Activism"). Of course, if that purpose had been made evident it would have more clearly posed the question of whether now was the right time to center that conversation. See the previous bullet point.

I've seen for awhile now the allegation that Zioness is an "astroturf" organization. There's virtually no evidence this is true. Moreover, anyone who knows anything about the constitution of American Jewish community politics should very well know it isn't true. Anyone with a modicum of knowledge about the politics of the American Jewish community -- and Zioness' critics certainly are included -- knows that there are a great many American Jews who (a) have relatively conventional "pro-Israel" politics, (b) have relatively conventional progressive domestic politics, and (c) feel aggrieved when they see these two commitments treated as antithetical to one another. Even if one hates that particular political cocktail, surely there's no dispute about its prevalence. Given that, there's no grounding to the idea that Zioness, which centers its appeal to just that political intersection, could only have sprung up via artificial seeding.* Since I'm confident that Zioness' critics are not ignorant about the political composition of the American Jewish community, I'm equally confident that their use of "astroturf" is entirely as a slur (meaning something like "activist group with more conventional and less radical politics than mine"), not an analytical category.

Many of the document's critics have cast it as specifically focused on "defending Israel" rather than addressing antisemitism more broadly. Much of the "antisemitic tropes" they address are Israel-related, but not several are not (ex: "Jews were behind the Atlantic Slave Trade" or "White nationalism isn’t about Jews"). There's something interesting about this, because formally speaking the elision isn't necessary: the locus of the critique -- that, especially right now, the centerpiece of a document on "racial justice" should be "racial justice" -- would I think carry equal punch if Zioness' document were accurately described as talking about antisemitism. So why fudge the description? The answer is that the criticizing "Israel talk" is more comfortable terrain for many compared to criticizing "Jewish talk", and so we see activists instinctively slide into the former even in cases where analytically they're just as much talking about the latter.

The tl;dr is that Zioness is a regular grassroots organization with a pretty obvious base of support, pairing conventional pro-Israel views with conventional mainstream Democratic domestic views. That, on its own, isn't too remarkable. But the document they've produced on "racial justice" is (a) justly being mocked for having a barely even perfunctory focus on racial justice; (b) bad on its own terms; (c) poorly timed with regard to its actual-albeit-understated purpose, and (d) inadvertently demonstrative of how Zioness' ostensible commitment to being a purely "domestic policy organization" that can't be expected to take positions on what progressive values mean for Israel is untenable.

* The closest evidence one has for Zioness being "astroturf" comes from its early funding from the right-wing Lawfare Project and Brooke Goldstein. That would raise legitimate flags, except that Goldstein has been extremely vocal about how much she hates Zioness precisely because they refused to take the pseudo-left concern-troll line that she had expected out of them (which is to say, they've actually been independent). The fallout has gotten so intense that Zioness has outright blocked Goldstein on Twitter. Whatever Goldstein's initial intentions, she'd be the first to agree that Zioness has charted its own path.

via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/2zqxT8V

#activism #Black #Israel #Jews #racism