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piratesfromspace · 3 years

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Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw. Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are.

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

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bonnyskies · 3 years

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deadly agenda ⇢ myg

min yoongi is a dangerous man. you’re a manipulative wife. together, you two are a deadly duo, and you both have your own agenda.

pairing — emperor!yoongi x wife!malereader ft. king-husband!taehyung

genres — angst, sexual themes, royalty!au, strangers-to-lovers!au

warnings — age-gap (reader is 20, yoongi is 28), swearing, degrading terms, mentions of death, feminization, descriptions of murder, sexual themes, infidelity, betrayal, slight voyeurism, yoongi is intimidating and reader is manipulative, basically they’re just plain evil

author’s note — i hate tumblr’s new update. i had more to write (not enough for a part two) but couldn’t because of the new 250 text box rule. but as for this story, this is probably the longest one i’ve written so far and the one i’m most proud of. anyway, hope you all enjoy and sorry for taking so long to upload this, took lots of planning and rewriting, plus i’ve been busy with school too.

word count — 7.4k

masterlist

Min Yoongi is a cautious, yet observant man.

Whoever steps foot in his palace, he makes sure to know everything about them. Who they are, they’re background, appearance, and how they approach him. Each and every thing can help him learn who he can trust, and who he cannot, who are his allies—and who are his enemies.

Yoongi stood by his palace’s entrance, accompanied with his guards and greeted his special guests, one by one as they walked up his home’s grand steps. He makes sure to take notes on each and every person’s facial expression, their appearance, chosen attire, and the certain way they walk up to him.

Anything could benefit him into knowing them. Their wealth and clan can be identified based on their specific appearance and choice of clothing. Their facial expressions help him learn what their true feelings and intentions are towards him that are hidden by their fake smiles and words. And lastly, the way they walk up to him can help him know the type of personality they have, whether that be obedient and innocent, or arrogant and untrustworthy.

The way he learns about his guests have never failed him. That was, until he met you.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he wasn’t astonished when his eyes laid on you for the first time. There were many things that left him utterly speechless when meeting you. For one, when his advisor told him that his guest would be bringing his wife, he was expecting a woman—not a man.

Another thing that left Yoongi speechless was your appearance, mostly your attire. You were dressed in feminine-like clothing, silk robes that were decorated with gold jewelry instead of fine material clothing with armor plating like what many men of royalty wear. And you also didn’t hold a blade like most men do too. Instead, you held a simple wooden decorative fan.

And lastly, your eyes.

Yoongi has a remarkable judge of character. Maybe not as good when it came to you, but still adequate. On the outside, your eyes were shining with gentleness and a kind greeting. But he could tell there was something else hidden behind them—something that left him intrigued by you.

You had an agenda—plans, and Yoongi was determined to find out what they are.

The welcoming feast was extremely dull.

Yoongi absorbed gallons of wine into his system, hoping that would help numb his mind and get through the rest of the evening without having to tear somebody’s head off from their body.

And apparently you thought the same as he did. Across the table, Yoongi watched as you fanned yourself out of boredom while everyone else were socializing with one another, an unamused facial expression shown on your face. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle behind his glass when seeing one of the other wives say something to you and you flashed her a quick smile before dropping it back down into a straight line.

It seems his attention on you didn’t go unnotice because next thing he knew, your eyes were now on him. Yoongi was expecting hints of disgust or uncomfort from you, but instead he was met with sly smirk and a raised brow.

Yoongi watches intently as you leaned over and whispered into your husband’s ear. Your husband—Kim Taehyung then stood up from his seat and bowed his head, “Excuse me, your Majesty.”

Yoongi turned his head towards your husband, diverting his attention completely away from you.

“My wife is not feeling well at the moment, so with your permission, would it be alright if he can take his leave from the feast early?”

The entire dining hall fell silent, shocked expressions plastered on everyone’s faces at the table.

Nobody has ever dared to leave one of Min Yoongi’s feasts before. Who would want to, right? It’s considered a great honor for one self and their kingdom to be invited by the Emperor himself to attend one of his events.

Whispers began to spread amongst the guests.

“How shameless is Kim Taehyung’s wife?”

“Wanting to leave the Emperor’s feast early? Utterly shameless I tell you.”

“That Taehyung needs to discipline his wife.”

“Doesn’t he know how important his Majesty’s events are? And he wants to leave just because he isn’t feeling well? Unbelievable.”

“He needs to learn some manners—”

Anxiety swept across Taehyung’s face when hearing the gossips coming from the other royals, eyes wide and mouth gaped open with panic. “Forgive me, your Majesty, I never intended to—”

With just the clear of his throat, everybody fell silent once again and all eyes were now on him. Yoongi’s gaze would shift between you and your husband, curiosity filling his veins when noticing that there wasn’t any signs of illness presently visible on you. You weren’t trembling, your eyes weren’t red and skin wasn’t showing any signs of flushness. You looked fine.

That only caused more questions to form in Yoongi’s mind. Like, what do you exactly want, and what is your reason for being here? Because according to his advisor, you weren’t even part of the guest list until today. That only raised even more suspicions he had towards you.

And it’s not like he can just throw you out—actually, he can. It’s just that he doesn’t want to because now he’s curious, and he wants to see how things turn out.

“He can go,” Yoongi says a brief silence, immediately noticing the small smile creeping onto your lips. “But take him to see the physician and let him check him out,” and then it dropped.

“N-No, your Majesty,” you spoke up, lips parted. “You don’t have to do that—”

“You’re feeling unwell, right?” Yoongi then asks, smirking at the silence he got in reply. “Well, you should let my physician diagnose you then. Don’t worry though, you’re in great hands.”

One of his guards that stood by his side approached you and started to guide you to the physician’s office. And while you were leaving, Yoongi could see the glare coming from you and aimed right at him.

If you wanted to play games with him, he’ll play.

Wandering through the palace halls at night was something Yoongi usually does whenever he can’t sleep.

And apparently you had the same tendency too.

While mindlessly strolling through his palace’s hallways, Yoongi’s eyes suddenly landed on your approaching figure, the first thing catching his attention was your choice of clothing. You were dressed in golden inner robes, your sleep-wear, and the material was so thin and transparent that every feature about you was visible to him. The sight of your clear, smooth skin and every curve of your body and muscles made his mouth water. It was like you were purposely dressed like that to seduce him.

Another thing that caught his eye was the small, slightly torn grayish book that was in your grasp, which was where your complete attention was on because you still haven’t noticed his presence despite the two of you walking towards the other.

“Hello, your Highness,” you jumped out of fear, eyes wide and closing your book when your gaze landed on him. “May I ask why you are wandering around my palace this late at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply answered, fingers tight around the cover the book, which only made Yoongi even more curious as to what you were exactly reading. “And it seems you are having the same problem as well, am I correct?”

Yoongi only hummed in reply, taking another small step towards you until you two now stood only inchest apart, him towering over you and staring down right at you. “Is there something wrong with your chambers? I can tell my servants to move you and your husband into a more comfortable place for you—”

“No no, your Majesty,” you were quick to interject. “Everything is perfect. It’s just that I’ve always had trouble sleeping at another royal’s residence, that’s all.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but find your reason funny, because he has always had trouble sleeping when there were other people staying in his palace.

A brief silence came between you two before Yoongi spoke up once again, “I’ll be taking a quick walk around my garden, you can accompany me if you like.” He didn’t wait for your reply before leaving, but when hearing the sound of your footsteps behind him right after, a smirk grew on his lips.

“You know, you never really introduced yourself when we first met,” Yoongi then brought up while the two of you made your way to the gardens.

“Forgive me, your Majesty,” you bowed your head apologetically before replying, “My name is ___, Kim ___.”

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Kim ___,” Yoongi reached down and took your hand into his, pressing a soft, yet tender kiss on the back of your palm, smirking at the evident blush forming on your cheeks. “And I’ve got to say, you are looking quite well for someone that claimed to be feeling sick not even three hours ago,” and that is when your smile dropped.

“Must’ve been my anxiety,” you were quick to reply back, your eyes never leaving his. “After all, I am staying at the Emperor’s palace for the first time.”

Yoongi was impressed honestly, he had to admit. For everything he had to say against you, you had something say right back at him. There isn’t a lot of people who have that type of skill to think of words—believeable words right on the spot. Anybody would believe what you were saying—too bad he isn’t just anybody.

“Must be...,” Yoongi just says, eyeing you slightly. His gaze then shifted onto the book in your hand. “What are you reading there?”

“Oh this,” you held the book up, “It’s called Flowers of the Region—a guide to every type of flower that is grown and can be found in both the South and the North. It’s my favorite book.”

“Well, that’s fortunate,” Yoongi points out, “you like flowers, and we so happen to be going to my garden. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Lily of the Valley,” you answer with a smile. “Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Yoongi replied, his interest towards you growing even more. Lily of the Valley, despite the beautiful features of the white flower, it is proven to be quite deadly when digested. “They are only found on top of the Southern mountains—but lucky for you, I happen to grow them right here in my garden.”

Your smile grew even wider. “That’s great.”

The rest of the walk to the gardens was in silence with you trailing forward while Yoongi stood back. And with your eyes focused on the path in front of you, Yoongi couldn’t help but send glances at you every once in a while, his eyes burning into your back, admiring at the clear view your smooth skin through the thin, transparent material of your inner robes.

He surely needs to give whoever crafted your sleepwear a raise—and a big one too.

When the two of you finally got to the gardens, you were left instantly speechless at the sight of the many plots of different flowers, ranging from beautiful, vibrant ones that were quite common to dark, mysterious ones that you’ve never even seen before.

Yoongi couldn’t deny how adorable you looked though when seeing his garden for the first time, eyes wide, shining with admiration and your mouth gaped open.

“This is beautiful,” you gasped, leaning down and running your fingers delicately over some flowers.

“Thank you,” Yoongi stood beside you, “I make sure my gardeners take good care of this place.”

Silenced filled the atmosphere as Yoongi stood back and silently watched you admiring the many flowers. Normally he’d be annoyed for someone touching his property, but for some odd reason when it came to you he didn’t mind so much. Perhaps it’s because this might be the only way for him to get close to you and learn about your true intentions—or maybe he just really wants to fuck you.

Yoongi found himself once again staring at you, watching as you bent over to get a closer look at one of the flowers, giving him a perfect view of your ass and hips, both in which he wants to grab and caress with his large hands.

“So,” Yoongi spoke up after some silence, “how exactly did you become the new Lady Kim?”

Yoongi instantly noticed the way your body tensed from his question. “I was his Highness’s personal servant. When his wife suddenly passed away, he was a complete mess and I was the only one that stayed by his side through the entire mourning process. I was the one that comforted him whenever he was feeling down, I made sure he was taking care of himself and helped him with his royal duties.”

Yoongi then noticed your shoulder slumping. “After about a month or so, he started seeking me for a...different kind of comfort.” Sex. “Soon later he decided to make his new wife—the new Lady Kim.”

“You don’t seem so happy about the change in position,” Yoongi commented, “I’m sure this is much better than being a simple servant. You’re a royal now.”

“Oh, I am,” you quickly corrected him, “But being a man and having a feminine title can sometimes make things complicated.”

“Well then, don’t make them complicated.” Yoongi suggested, “You’re not a servant anymore, you’re a royal. They may not respect you now, but you have the power to make them do so.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” you told him sternly. “They’ll learn to respect me. Whether that be the hard way or the easy way—it’s their choice. So you better watch out, your Majesty, or something bad might happen to you,” you laughed softly.

Yoongi released a forceful chuckle, eyes briefly squinting at you suspiciously. It may have sound like a harmless joke, but to him, he could hear the small hints of truth behind them. “Oh trust me, I will. I wouldn’t want you as an enemy.”

“And you as well,” you replied, eyeing him back.

Silence came between you two again, Yoongi leaving you to inspect his garden in peace while he stood back and watched you. It wasn’t until an hour has passed you spoke up again, yawning, “we should head back to bed, your Majesty. We have that conference in the morning with the other royals and we need the energy.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi agreed, nodding and stepping aside so that you could walk ahead of him and back inside the place with him following right beside you. “Let me walk you back to your room.”

You didn’t say anything, only held your head low to hide the small grin on your face as the both of you made your back to the chambers. And as you two got closer to your destination, you both were froze at the sound of moaning.

Yoongi was confused at first as who it could be, but when turning to you and seeing the hardened expression on your face, he knew.

“O-Oh, Taehyung—f-faster, please!”

Yoongi was speechless. He knew many royals took on concubines while being married, but he didn’t know someone could so shameless as to bringing them to another person’s residence alongside their spouse. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t bother, your Majesty,” you spoke calmly, eyes hard and emotionless. “I’m use to it by now and it doesn’t really bother me anymore.”

“Really, it doesn’t?”

You shook your head. “At first it did, but after sleeping with my husband so many times I have learned that the only person he cares to satisfy is himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle. What kind of husband doesn’t have the desire to satisfy is own wife? Maybe he should take you to his chambers and show you exactly what you’re missing. “Well, I-I’m still sorry for you.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders, “it doesn’t matter, your Majesty. Have a good night.”

Yoongi watched as you then opened the door went inside the chamber, causing your husband and the woman to stop and look at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t mind me,” you said to them, not even bothering to glance at them, shocking Yoongi. “I’ll be on the balcony reading my book. Just let me when you two are done.”

Taehyung’s attention instantly went back to the woman that was straddling his lap when hearing your words, hands kneading her breasts and hips and started thrusting back up into her, causing moans to erupt from both of them. Yoongi didn’t why, but the sight of them made his blood boil.

Maybe he should go in there and fuck you in front of your husband? That’ll show him what he is missing out.

Yoongi continued to watch through the crack in the door as you walked past the couple and went onto the balcony. And once you were out of his sight, that’s when he finally got a clear view of the woman on your husband’s lap, and he instantly recognized her. She was one of the servants that accompanied you and Taehyung here. Yoongi distinctly remembered seeing her earlier today, serving you tea after you got back from seeing the physician.

Yoongi glared at the couple, scoffing at the sight. What did that Kim Taehyung see in that whore of a servant that you don’t have?

You are far more enticing than she is.

Taking one last glance at the shameless couple, Yoongi retreated back to his chambers. And while he did so, his mind suddenly went back to you. How did someone so...unique end up with a man like Kim Taehyung? He’s a weak person, a shame to royal blood. You deserve to be with someone with real power, someone who would never leave you unsatisfied, both physically and emotionally. Someone like me.

Yoongi could feel himself harden just from the thought of you.

Damn you for having this type of power over me, his mind cursed. Yoongi has slept with countless of other royals before, both men and women, and he has never encountered someone like you.

You are truly something else.

“Damn,” Yoongi mumbled out to nobody in particular, palming himself through his robes. “How the hell am I going to get rid of this?”

And right on queue, a young servant boy just happened to be walking right by Yoongi when the question ran through his head.

“Stop,” was all he said, making the servant boy freeze in his place.

“Y-Yes, your Majesty?”

Yoongi took slow, intimidating steps towards him until he was towering over him, using his hands to cup his chin and forcing the servant boy to meet his eyes. “How would you feel having the honor of spending the night with your Emperor?”

The servant boy couldn’t stop the small smile from forcing on his face. “I-I would love that, your Majesty.”

That was Yoongi needed to hear before leaning down capturing the servant’s boys lips with his, hands moving to his thighs and hoisting him up in his arms and carrying him into his chambers, lips never separating.

“You’re a eager one, are you?” Yoongi chuckled against the servant boy’s mouth, moving his lips down his neck and forcing a whimpering moan from him.

“I-It’s my duty to serve y-you, your Majesty.”

That brought a smile on Yoongi’s lips.

Yoongi couldn’t find you anywhere the next day.

He couldn’t find at you breakfast, he couldn’t find you during the conference with the other royals and their wives, and he couldn’t find you at lunch. Now as dinner was approaching, there still wasn’t any sign of you anywhere.

But he had no problem finding your husband. Wherever he saw Taehyung, he saw that whore of a servant trailing behind him like a pet—but you no where to be seen.

Yoongi thought about approaching him to ask about your whereabouts, but he couldn’t help but think of the consequences that would happen afterwards. But that still didn’t stop him from sending glares at the younger royal and the servant every now and then, which didn’t go unnotice by either of them.

“Is there something wrong, your Majesty,” Taehyung finally asks, breaking the tensed silence between the two of them. “You’ve been staring at me all day today and haven’t said a single word.”

“Oh nothing,” Yoongi simply replies, eyes still trained on him while twirling his glass of wine. “Just wondering where your wife is at right now, since everyone else is here. Is he still not feeling well from last night?”

For a very very brief moment, Yoongi could see panic glinting in his eyes before answering, “o-oh yes, your Majesty, he told me that he’s still feeling unwell so I allowed him stay back in the room.”

Liar, was Yoongi’s first thought, eyes glaring even more at the long, black-haired royal.

Everyone at the table could feel the tension between their Emperor and the young royal, and still no one chose to speak up about it.

Yoongi had a reputation. He is the first ever Emperor to achieve the throne through combat rather than family bloodline—and he is also the youngest ruler to ever be placed higher than a simple king. But that weren’t the only things he was known for. He was also generally known for being intelligent and quite reserved, and cruel if absolutely necessary, and also able to hold a grudge. It may sound simple, but everybody knew that if their Emperor had something against you, your days were limited.

So that’s why nobody chose to speak up when seeing the menancing glares their Emperor were sending at the youngest and only surviving Kim. Because they knew if they intervened, they’d only anger him and get on his list, and that’s the exact opposite of what they want to do.

“Your Majesty,” his advisor suddenly whispered right beside him. “I think it would be a good idea to continue the meeting. Some of your guests has some things to say about the...improvements you’re doing to the North.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes scanning over Taehyung once more before turning his attention to the other royals. “Sure,” he then says, “which one of you want to speak first?”

Not even a second later, Park Jimin, ruler of the Park Kingdom stood up from his seat and spoke. “Your Majesty, my council and I believe that the border that you have placed around my region is completely unnecessary.”

“How so?” Yoongi asks, leaning back against his chair with an amused look on his face. He had to admit that he was impressed that the blonde man was the first to speak up. He may not be the youngest royal out of everyone, but he certainly is the one with the least experience when it came politics.

“For starters your border cuts right through my kingdom’s river, slicing our water supply in half,” he starts, voice slightly raising. “And the amount of wood you required for the construction of the wall resulted in about ninety percent of the forests in my region to be completely cut down, forcing most of my workers into unemployment.”

Yoongi continued to listen closely with his hands laced together and resting on top of his chest, rocking back and forth in his chair with an intent glint in his eyes.

“I also find it completely unfair how your border only crosses over my kingdom but no one else’s.” Jimin continued to rant, jamming his finger repeatedly angerly against the table while keeping his eye contact with him. “I think it’s not for protection like you have claimed many of times, but as a prison, to keep my people in check. You’re nothing but a—”

Yoongi slammed his hand heavily onto the table, instantly silencing the young royal and causing everyone to gulp nervously. He may at times find it amusing when someone fights back, but he will never allow anyone to talk down against him, not in his own residence.

“You think I built that wall as a prison?” Yoongi asks, chuckling when the blonde man didn’t reply. “Are you forgetting what happened before I built that wall? Spies from the South would come right into our territories and would gather information on us, murder our people in their sleep—that’s how your parents died, am I correct? Some spy that sneaked into their palace assassinated them when they were asleep? It would such a shame if the same thing happens to you—after I take down the wall, of course.”

Yoongi smirked when noticing the seeing Jimin’s jaw clenching and hands angrily balling into fists. “So don’t you ever accuse me again? Because everything I do is for the best of my people, not just yours. The wall is only bordering your land because your land is the only one that connects with the South.”

Jimin’s head hung low, hands unclenching and lips dropping into the frown.

“So before you come at me, you should make sure that you have all the information, do you understand me?” Jimin nodded and sat down.

Everybody tensed when Yoongi then stood up from his seat and slowly, intimidatingly made his way to Jimin’s chair. And when placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle when feeling him jump slightly underneath his touch. “Normally I’d kill anyone who spoke to me that way,” leaning down, he whispered into Jimin’s ear, sending chills along his pale skin, “but I’ll let it slide for once since you’re new to this whole thing.”

“T-Thank you, your Majesty.”

With one last pat on the shaking man’s shoulder, Yoongi pulled away, and he was standing straight again, his eyes suddenly fell on your figure who stood near the entrance of the conference hall. But you weren’t alone, no, three servants that he couldn’t recognize was with you. The four of you seemed to be in a deep conversation, and with everybody focused on him, nobody noticed you.

Yoongi’s eyes slightly squinted out of suspicion when seeing you then bow your head at the three servants, a smile on your face before each of you went your separate ways.

Yoongi is definitely going to look into that.

“Now,” returning his attention back to his guests, Yoongi leaned himself against the table, keeping close to the blonde man that was still trembling. “Does anyone else have anything to say to me?”

“N-No no, your Majesty,” Jung Hoseok, another royal spoke up, gulping anxiously as he tightened his hand around his wife’s who sat beside him. “We have no complaints whatsoever, you’re doing an amazing job—the perfect ruler.”

Kiss ass, Yoongi rolled his eyes, pushing himself away from the table. He then shifted his attention towards your husband and asks, “what about you, your Highness? Anything to say?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, your Majesty.”

“What a bunch spineless people,” Yoongi’s mind scoffed, and he couldn’t agree more.

His advisor then rose from his chair and spoke up, “okay everyone, thank you all for attending his Majesty’s annual end of conference feast this year. You may all now return to your rooms and get some rest before heading back to your own residences in the morning.”

Yoongi stayed back and bid farewell to everyone, and once everyone was gone he left the conference hall with only one thing on his mind—you. He was determined to find out what exactly were you and those three servants were discussing about. Yoongi was so rapt on you that he didn’t even hear his advisor calling out of him to come back.

He practically jogged to the chambers hall, heading straight to your room and when he got there, just as he was about barge right through the door he was then stopped by a sudden sound. Moans could be heard on the other side of the door—female moans. Yoongi’s hands were already hovering over the door handle before he opened it slightly to where there was only a crack, giving him the view of seeing your husband with same servant girl from the night before.

Yoongi watches as she claws his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he place open mouth kisses along her bare chest and thrusted deep into her, causing loud, pleasurable moans to erupt from both of their mouths.

“T-Tae,” the young servant girl gasped, hands running up and down his sweaty back and fingers digging into his marked, glistening skin. “I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he groaned back, leaning down and capturing her lips into a passionate kiss. “Together, okay...?”

Utterly shameless, Yoongi shook his head and pushed away from the door with disgust. Just as he was about to continue searching for you, he froze at the sound a voice behind him—a female voice.

“Are you looking for Lady Kim, your Majesty?”

Yoongi turned around and was greeted by one of your servants, hands laced together and hanging in front of her with a wide smile on her face. “No, I’m not,” he quickly replied, shaking his head. He expected her to just nod her head and leave, but instead she released a small chuckle and turned around, saying in a soft tone, “follow me.”

Yoongi was hesitant, eyes burning suspiciously into the servant girl’s back as she began to walk away. But he soon decided to follow her despite the constant warnings that were running through his head at the moment.

The servant’s gaze was trained on the path in front of her, not even bothering to acknowledge the glare she was receiving by platinum-haired man that was trailing right behind her.

The warnings that were consuming Yoongi’s head started to get louder as he continued to follow her deeper into his residence, parts of his home that he hasn’t even been in.

Yoongi stopped in his place when the servant led him to a room with dark, double doors. “What is this,” he asks with a cold expression, causing the young girl to chuckle and open the door without saying a word to him. He was about to question her even more but when he got to see what was behind the door, leaving him speechless.

Standing right in front him was you, along with over a dozen guards and servants that were from many different kingdoms. Some of the guards and servants were part of the Park Kingdom, some were from the Jung Kingdom, and others were from your own home.

“What’s going on here?” Yoongi asks, his eyes glancing across the many different pairs that were staring right back at him.

“They work for me,” came out of your mouth. “We are all part of movement that believes that the North needs a change in leadership—which is you. You’re the only that deserves to rule the North, not these cowards.”

Yoongi was speechless. For once in his life he didn’t know to say. For the first time he wasn’t the one that was planning in the shadows, plotting against somebody—but instead it was people who he has never even met before. “Why,” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

“Because war is coming your Majesty,” you stepped towards him to where you stood only inches away from his face, staring up to meet his eyes. “My agents told me that the South is planning an invasion into our territory, and the way the other kingdoms are ruling their land—we won’t survive this war. You are the only one that is capable of leading us to victory.”

Yoongi turned towards your followers. “Do you all agree with him?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” one of the guards spoke up. Each and every person then stepped forward and began to speak loudly on their opinions of their leaders.

“Park Jimin is too young to be King—he doesn’t know how to rule.”

“He can’t even hold a sword properly.”

“Jung Hoseok is a spineless man!”

“Damn right he is! The moment the South comes barging intl his palace, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his own skin and not his people.”

“Kim Taehyung is shameless bastard who would rather spend his time fucking his servants than leading his own Kingdom.”

Yoongi could see you snicker at that comment.

“He spends our taxes buying whores instead of using it to improve our home.”

“None of them belong on the throne!”

“They are right, your Majesty,” you stared at him with a small smirk on your lips. “Out of everyone, you’re the only that deserves to rule us. You are the one who will lead us to glory.”

Yoongi stared down at you with such desire. He may have found you attractive before, but now he couldn’t help but find you utterly irresistible. “So this isn’t just some power trip? Doing all this just to get to the top?”

Yoongi had his suspicions already about the war. He has heard from his own agents that the South were planning on some sort of invasion, but there wasn’t any evidence that confirmed that. So sadly he hasn’t been able to do any preparations—at least, none without the other royals knowledge of it.

You shook your head. “I don’t care about power, your Majesty—only survival, and you’re the best way to achieve that.”

“I see,” Yoongi reached up and stroked his chin, “how would you all do this anyway? Kill the rulers of each Kingdom can be tricky, and what about their heirs?”

“It’s quite easy,” you answered with a small grin. “They all have their jobs,” you nodded at your followers, “once they are home and unguarded, that is when they’ll strike. And as for their heirs, well, that’s not really a problem.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Jung Hoseok’s wife is unable to bare a child, and he also doesn’t have any younger siblings to take over. So once he passes, rulership of his Kingdom immediately goes over to you. Same goes for my husband and Park Jimin.”

“I see,” Yoongi hums, biting inside of his cheek. “So what’s my job then?”

You smirk. “The only thing you have to do is have your succession speech ready, your Majesty.”

“But I have another problem,” Yoongi added. “Many people already disagree with our war with the South. How will we manage to persuade them that this is necessary? It’ll be difficult since three of the four leaders of the North are dead.”

“Trust me, your Majesty,” you spoke with such clarity and a smile on your face. “Everything is planned out and you don’t have to worry.”

Yoongi didn’t replay, eyes briefly glancing at the people that surrounded him. You must’ve noticed his still cautious state because next thing he knew you were signaling everybody out, telling them to “get some rest and prepare for your departure in the morning.”

“Why are you doing this exactly?” Yoongi asks the moment you two were alone in the room. “Because there is no damn way you’re doing this just for survival. I mean,” he suddenly chuckles, “you are giving complete control of the North. What is your angle here? Are you going to kill me after all this is so that you become Emperor?” Yoongi was starting to get frustrated. He has never had trouble understanding someone before until he met you. And now because of you, his mind was a complete mess.

“That’s not my intention at all, your Majesty,” smiling up at him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, smirking at the feeling of him tensing underneath your fingertips. “All I want is for the North, my home—your home to finally come out of its shadow that it has been forced to hide in for centuries.”

“And you think I’m the one that can do that?”

“Yes,” you nod, fingers dancing across his chest. “I’ve read records of previous Emperors and you’re the only that deserves that title. Unlike the other ones, you are resilient, intelligent, ruthless if necessary, and you even fight alongside your men which no other Emperor has done before.”

As each compliment came out of your mouth, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel himself starting to get hard underneath his lower robes, and you running your hands seductively over his chest definitely wasn’t helping.

“How should I repay you for your kindness then,” Yoongi found himself melting against your touch, his hands finding their way into your waist. “Because someone like you definitely deserves an reward for their loyalty.” Yoongi then turns you around in one quick motion, causing you to gasp at the sudden action and feeling his strong chest pressed up against your back and lips brushing against your ear.

A tiny moan escaped from your lips when feeling his hard length suddenly rub against your ass, you yourself starting to get hard as well. “Should I buy you plenty of jewelry, or maybe a large palace just for you?” Yoongi then pushed you up against the wall, smirking at the small gasp that came from you. “Or perhaps,” another moan came out of your mouth when one of his hands slipped underneath your robes and caressed the soft flesh of your behind, “make you wife?”

Yoongi chuckled when feeling shiver against him. “Yeah, you would like that, huh? Being my wife, an Empress, ruling right beside me?”

“Y-Yes, your Majesty,” you stuttered out, tilting your head back from the sensation, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lean down and leaving wet, tender kisses along your neck and bare shoulder, leaving dark bruises that’ll be near impossible to cover up tomorrow morning.

“Good,” Yoongi left another mark on your skin, dragging his finger across your ass, teasing your clenching hole with his fingertip. “Then how about we—secure our deal, then? And when you nodded, that was all Yoongi needed before turning you around to face him and crashing his lips down forcefully onto yours. The kiss was rough, yet tender and filled with lust. With your hands around his neck, Yoongi’s slid down to your thighs and hoisted you up into his arms, deepening the kiss with his lips moving in perfect sync against yours.

The kiss was like a drug that neither of you couldn’t get enough of.

“Please, your Majesty,” you whimpered against his lips, which made Yoongi want you even more than he already did. “Can you please h-hurry?”

Yoongi smirked against your lips, pulling away. “Don’t worry, my love, just be patient.”

It was quite ironic though, because Yoongi was everything but patient when it came to you. He couldn’t wait any longer. Instead of carrying you all the way to his chamber, he laid you on the closest flat surface which happened to be a table and tore your robes completely off of you, leaving you bare and them in ruins.

Yoongi decided to take his sweet time with you, dragging his lips across your ankles, up your legs to your meaty thighs. He then began to leave open mouth kisses over your abdomen and up your chest, teasing your nipples with his tongue and grazing the wet muscle over your collarbone. Yoongi continued his assault on your body until he reached back up your lips, capturing them this time into a soft, passionate kiss which you gladly returned without a second thought, hands sliding up to his shoulders and helping him strip from his own robes, revealing his pale and toned body.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, eyeing his define muscles, the way his abs clenched as he climbed onto the table and hovered over you, and the way his biceps bulged as he held himself above you. “Y-Your Majesty—”

“Yoongi,” he cut you off, pulling away and moving his lips to your throat. “Call me, Yoongi, my love.”

“Y-Yoongi,” you tried out, heart warming in both of your chests once hearing his name come out of your mouth. It sounded right coming from you. “Please—”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Yoongi reassured you, moving his lips back up to yours. “I’m here, I’m here. Let me show you how it feels to be loved by a real man, yeah?”

The night was then soon filled with nothing but the sound your combined moans, skin slapping and the shared whispers of sweet words between one another.

This was the start of something new.

“T-Taehyung, faster, faster please!”

The sound of the woman’s moans and the bed’s headboard banging against the connecting wall to your room made your blood boil. Your hands clenched into fists and teeth biting angrily down onto your lips.

“Be patient, my love,” you could hear your husband say through the thin wall, making the rage that flowed through your veins grow more. “Let me cherish you, beautiful...”

“Your Highness,” the sound of a man’s voice tore you out of your thoughts, “I’ve done what you’ve asked me to do.”

“Everything’s prepared and ready?”

The guard nodded his head once you turned around, “yes, your Highness. The only people remaining in the palace are your loyal followers. Everyone else has been sent home.”

“Good,” only came out of your mouth before leaving your chambers with the guard following closely behind you. You walked over next door and didn’t bother knocking before barging right in, your husband and the girl instantly jumping to cover themselves with the thin bedsheets.

“What the fuck?!” Taehyung curses loudly, staring at you with wide eyes and wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist, pulling her close. “What are you doing here? I told already you that I’m staying here tonight.”

“I know,” you replied with not even a single ounce of emotion heard in your voice.

Taehyung’s eyes then shifted towards the guard that stood beside you. “What’s going on here?”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled, and that caused fear to form in the pit of Taehyung’s gut. With just the simple nod of your head, the guard walked over to the servant girl and snatched her by her hair, tearing her away from his grasp and yanking her off the bed and onto the ground.

“Stop—” Taehyung tried to reach for her but stopped when the guard pulled out a dagger and held the sharp blade against her neck, tears shining in her eyes. He then turned towards you, eyes glistening as well, “why are you doing this?”

“Change,” was all you said before nodding your head again, giving the guard the order to slide his blade across the girl’s throat, killing her instantly and letting her limp body collapse into the ground.

“N-No no,” Taehyung didn’t hesitate this time to jump out of the bed, despite being completely nude and taking her now lifeless body into his arms, blood staining the ground and his skin, and tears spilling uncontrollably from his eyes. “She was pregnant...”

“Oh well.”

Taehyung’s head shot up from your heartless comment, his teary eyes shining with a newfound rage. Before he had the chance to say anything the guard approached him from behind and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. He immediately began clawing at his arms, trying to gasp for air that was becoming harder and harder to obtain, eyes bright red and nearly bulging out, tears slipping from them and sliding down his cheeks.

The last thing he saw before he took his last breath and eyes slowly closed was you standing in front of him with a sinister grin on your lips.

“Your Majesty.”

Yoongi glanced up from his book to see his personal advisor standing right in front of him by his library’s entrance. He hummed in reply, signaling for the young man to continue. We’ve gotten word from Lady Kim—” Yoongi glared at him, causing his advisor to pause and correct his words, “—I mean, ____’s agents that they have completed their duties.”

“They have?” Yoongi asked with a raised brow. He knew you were more than capable of doing this, but he thought something this major would take at least a week to accomplish. He didn’t expect to hear about any success a day later.

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded. “The Jung palace is flames at this moment and there is word that Jung Hoseok himself and his wife were in their chambers when the fire happened. And as for Park Jimin, he was found murdered in his bed with a dagger in his chest. Some say it was one of his concubines that done it.”

“What about Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi found himself asking, his mind instantly thinking of you. “Was ___ successful?”

“Yes, your Majesty he was,” his advisor answered. “I was informed about Kim Taehyung’s death by ___ himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. “Good.”

“Would you like to start writing your succession speech now, your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered. “We’ll have the succession conference next week, and make sure every minor clan leader comes so that they know who is in charge now.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded his head, and before leaving he turned back and said to him in a teasing tone, “oh, and someone is here to see you.”

Yoongi was about to ask him who it was, but he stopped himself when his eyes suddenly landed on you standing in his library’s entrance, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you. “H-Hey,” he stuttered out, cringing at the sound of himself. In all his years of living, nobody has ever had this type of power over him—but he wasn’t complaining either.

“Hello, your Majesty,” your reply sent tingles all over his body—and he loved it.

There was nothing but silence afterwards between you two because there wasn’t any need for words. The only thing you two needed to express the feelings you have for each other was your eyes—the passion, the lust, the want that shined in them.

This is just the beginning for you two.

would you guys like to see a drabble series of these two in the future maybe? emperor yoongi and his male wife.

TAGLIST:

@ben-c0c, @sombreboy, @theclawofsa, @joongtoons, @xavi-in-kpopland, @ephemeralkookie, @yoshiure, @illbeyournightmare, @sonderkook, @spaceisbigger, @catboygyu, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @xxminilah

#bonnyskies #bts #bts angst #bts one shot #bts x reader #bts x male reader #min yoongi #min yoongi angst #min yoongi one shot #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x male reader #yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi one shot #yoongi x reader #yoongi x male reader #bts imagines #min yoongi imagines #yoongi imagines

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burberryharold · 3 years

Text

hey, lovies! i’ve been so excited to post this fic because i am in love with Harry and Jules and i hope you will be too (and excuse the lousy banner i just wanted to have something lol)! this is a part of @1dffchallenges’s valentine’s day challenge, so i hope you enjoy reading it and happy valentine’s day, it’s all about spreading love around so here is some love from me to all of you ❤️

a special thank you to @fireproofrry @bodejacketharry @strawberryystyles for beta reading and giving feedback, you are absolute angels <3

word count: 7.7k

warnings: none!

challenge prompt and dialogue: strangers alone on valentine’s day + “I’m allergic to chocolate. And roses.”

It’s official, valentine’s day is the worst.

At least that’s what Jules thought as she adjusted herself on the bar stool, trying to get into a comfortable position while she waited for her drink to be served.

It wasn’t in Jules’ agenda to spend what was supposed to be the most romantic day of the year alone at a bar ten minutes away from her apartment. If she was still with Leon, they would have been having a nice dinner somewhere, laughing over whatever funny story one of them had to share about their day at the company.

But alas, Leon was someone else’s now and Jules was only left with her own company.

Truth be told, though, Jules never minded being alone, in fact, she enjoyed being by herself because people were simply exhausting.

But being alone and being lonely were too completely different things, and Jules hated feeling lonely.

And valentine’s day only made that worse. Seeing loved up couples around her, flashes of red and pink everywhere she glanced, hearing cheesy love songs blasting through the speakers of the shops she passed by. Everything about valentine’s day just seemed to remind her of her lonely status.

Instead of staying at her apartment all night long doing nothing but watching rom coms and feeling sorry for herself, Jules thought of a better alternative, which was to get pissed drunk. So when she got up in the morning to go to work (because even on valentine’s day duty calls), she put on her favourite black dress, one that was sleeveless and had a deep v-neckline, and put on enough makeup to feel confident in the way she looked before pulling on her coat and venturing into the cold streets of London.

If she was going to get pathetically drunk by herself at a bar after work whilst everyone else was being all lovey dovey, then she would look hot doing it.

The sound of a glass coming in contact with the wooden surface broke her out of her reverie and she glanced up, finding that the bartender had placed her drink in front of her and he was beaming at her. “There you go, love, happy valentine’s day.”

After squinting at the name tag (she’s never seen him here before, he must be new), Jules forced herself to return his smile and lifted her glass. “Cheers, Jonah.”

Poor guy must have thought she was waiting for a date or something. Too bad, no one was going to be joining Jules on this fine evening. Just me, myself, and I.

Setting her glass back on the counter after taking a big gulp, Jules scowled as she was reminded of the items she had received earlier in the day. For some reason, Leon thought it was a good idea to give her a box of chocolates and a rose, even though they were no longer together and he had another woman by his side.

She appreciated the thought behind it, he probably just wanted to be nice or maybe he felt guilty, but his gift was staring at her, almost laughing at her misery and she wasn’t having it.

That is why she instantly asked Jonah for a fork, which caused him to send her a confused look but he complied nonetheless, and she proceeded to stab the pieces of chocolate placed perfectly in the box, taking out her frustration on the sweets.

Once satisfied, she dropped the fork with a clunk and heaved out a sigh, lazily resting her chin in her right hand before looking back at Jonah. He was staring at her with wide eyes as he dried off some shot glasses, surely thinking that she was a lunatic, but Jules just flashed him a sweet smile and shifted her eyes back to the chocolates she had just assaulted.

Poor chocolate, but oh well.

“Are you alright there?”

“What the fuc-“ The sudden voice caused her to jump in her seat and she almost fell off the bar stool if it weren’t for the hand that magically materialised behind her, holding her steady.

Before she had a chance to slap the hand off her back, the stranger retracted it and returned to his seat and she had the chance to take a proper look at him.

The man stared back at her with concerned eyes, a stool separating the two of them, but he was still not that far away from her. Jules wondered when he had gotten there because she certainly didn’t feel him arrive. Perhaps it was during her chocolate rampage.

What really surprised her though, more than his sudden appearance, was the fact that she knew who he was. In fact, she believed everyone knew the man sitting beside her because it was none other than Harry Styles.

Many questions ran through Jules’ head, the most important being what on earth was a guy like him doing at this bar on valentine’s day? Jules never believed in the image the media painted of him, but surely he has something better to do than be here, all by himself it seems?

As big of a fan as she was, the fact that he was right before her didn’t faze Jules all that much, her mind was more preoccupied by other matters. So, she ended up doing what she would’ve done if it was any other person: she glared at him and wordlessly turned back in her seat, pretending as if he wasn’t there.

He didn’t seem to take the hint.

“You were quite aggressive with the chocolate there.” His deep voice floated in the empty bar as he pointed at the box in front of her.

Jules inhaled deeply before responding in a flat tone. “I’m allergic to chocolate.” Glaring at the single rose lying beside the box, she grabbed it and tossed it on the floor beneath her, silently cursing Leon once more. “And roses.”

She felt guilty for littering, but she’d pick it up when she leaves. Eventually.

“Are you really?” The man beside her questioned, leaning forward in his seat, his body completely turned towards her at this point. She could tell from her tone that he was skeptical of her supposed allergies and she honestly couldn’t blame him.

“No,” she found herself shaking her head, signalling for Jonah to get her another drink, still keeping her body facing forward and only glancing at him from her peripheral vision, “I’m just fucking with you.”

To her surprise, he let out a small laugh, not seeming to be upset. Jules couldn’t help but turn her head a bit to look at him, finding a dimpled smile on his and she wondered what was wrong with this guy.

“May I ask why you were stabbing the poor sweets then?”

Figuring she should just put him out of his misery and answer his question, Jules huffed and crossed her legs, not missing the way his gaze flickered down for a split second before returning to her face. She ignored it and sighed, “Well if you must know, my ex gave them to me this morning.”

“Trying to get you to take him back?”

“Oh god no,” Jules laughed at the notion, her hand waving off his wrong assumption, “he’s as happy as can be with his new girlfriend.”

The blatant confusion on his face prompted her to provide more explanation.

“We broke up a couple of months ago, he left me for someone else. So he probably just felt guilty.”

“He left you for someone else? And before the holidays?” When she nodded in confirmation, he shook his head with a frown. “Bastard.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Valentine’s day just sucks, it’s just a reminder of how lonely you are,” she muttered with bitterness, “Of how lonely I am.”

“Well if it’s any consolation,” Harry said, pausing to ask the bartender for another drink, “I’m lonely tonight too.”

“Well, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be here getting drunk on your own.” With a few drinks already in her system, Jules practically had no filter whatsoever (not that she really had one in the first place).

“Touché,” he clicked his tongue, then leaned back to chug down the rest of his glass. Jules was almost concerned by how quickly he downed his drink, but she’s not in a position to talk, after all, she’d been doing the same. “But I’m not getting drunk on my own now, am I? You’re right here.”

She scoffed, eyebrows raising at his words. “Who said I’m keeping you company? Or that I’m not leaving any second now?”

“I don’t think you are.” He responded with much conviction that it almost threw Jules off.

“You think too confidently about a stranger you just met.”

“Let’s fix the strangers part then, shall we? I’m Harry.” He extended his ring-clad hand and Jules noticed a coat of red nail polish on his fingers. How ironic.

She sighed before deciding to entertain him, grabbing a firm hold of his surprisingly warm hand. Maybe she’ll allow him to keep her company tonight. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave her alone anyway.

“Jules.” She simply responded before turning back to her drink, swirling the pink straw around. She made a mental note to thank Jonah later for the cute straw.

“Jules” Harry repeated, as if testing the name on his lips and Jules would be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way it rolled off his tongue. “Is that a nickname for Julie? Julia? Short for Juliann-“

“Juliet. It’s Juliet.” She interrupted his ridiculous ramble. He surely was inquisitive. And did she really look like a Julianne?

“Huh,” he hummed, gliding a finger over the rim of his glass, staying silent for a few seconds and Jules thought he was maybe done for the night.

She thought wrong, it seems.

“Oh, Juliet, oh, Juliet, where art thou, Juliet?” He dramatically recited, voice going deeper as he stared upwards at a spot over the bar. Simply put, Jules thought he looked ridiculous.

She could hear Jonah snickering in the background.

“It’s where art thou, Romeo, but nice try.” She rolled her eyes in response to his theatrics. Almost everyone she’s ever encountered has commented on her name and made a reference to the infamous Shakespearean tragedy that she’s never been too fond of. It’s why she mostly went by Jules.

No one’s ever recited that line though, however wrong it was. That was a first.

“I knew that,” the curly-haired man mumbled beside her, swirling his glass and watching the ice cubes swim around, “was just joking, geez, tough crowd.”

Jules couldn’t help but roll her eyes again in response. That joke got old a long time ago.

She’s beginning to regret coming to this bar tonight. Maybe she should’ve just headed straight home and cuddled into her blankets.

“It’s pretty, though,” he added a few moments later, “beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

No way. She huffed, spinning in her seat to face him once again. “That’s your line? Tell me, Mr. Rockstar, has that really worked on anyone before?”

She could tell he was a bit surprised but tried to hide it; unluckily for him, Jules was a very observant person, hardly anything passed her.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that-“

She interrupted him again and leaned in closer, resting her elbow on the countertop and raised an eyebrow. His eyes flickered for a fleeting second to the charm bracelet adorning her wrist. “So you don’t think my name’s beautiful? Or that I’m beautiful? Sheesh, Harry, you’re not looking good here.”

Harry spluttered, staring at her with eyes blown wide in panic and Jules almost felt bad for messing with him; it was just hard not to, she was lonely and he was right there annoying her with his lousy jokes, so he has the unfortunate fate of being her victim tonight (and truthfully, he brought it on himself). And if she was being honest, messing with Harry Styles was just too entertaining of an opportunity for her to pass on.

To be fair, she was a little annoyed by his presence in the beginning, having originally planned to wallow in her misery all by herself, but now she’s having fun. She might just enjoy her time with him.

“No- no of course I think you’re beautiful, y-your name too,” he responded in clear panic, seemingly trying to figure out how he can redeem himself. Jules’ attention was momentarily caught by the way his rings glimmered under the light as he flexed his fingers, still fumbling for a response. “I was just-“

“Styles,” she interrupted him, yet again, with a light-hearted laugh and shook her head, hair falling forward on her shoulders, “Relax, was just messing with you.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he heaved out a sigh of relief; his eyes then narrowed and he lifted his hand, pointer finger wagging in her direction. “You really like messing with people, huh? Not very nice of you.”

“Made you sweat, no? Was just having fun. I can now say that I’ve made the infamous Harry Styles stumble over his words. How much do you think they’ll pay me for that hot gossip? Reckon it would be a lot.” She said as she turned back in her seat, now facing the bar once again, but she knew he caught the smirk on her face and the teasing lilt in her tone.

Coming to the bar was definitely a good decision.

Harry felt like a proper idiot.

Here he was, sitting at a pub with a lovely woman that clearly didn’t want to be bothered, yet he had to fuck things up and be a git.

And the Juliet bit? Harry had never been more embarrassed, he didn’t know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. He made sure to remind himself that he wasn’t that funny and should just stop trying to be. You’re making a fucking fool of yourself.

In spite of his rather embarrassing advances, Harry found himself enjoying Jules’ company immensely, even if she had barely looked his way when he had arrived at his spot.

She might’ve looked irritated by his insistent attempts to start a conversation with her in the beginning, but from the way her body has been facing him for the past half an hour and the smile or two she’d thrown his way, Harry had a feeling she was warming up to him.

He discovered that she was an accountant, which thoroughly surprised him because she didn’t seem like one. Harry doesn’t like to judge a book by its cover, but Jules definitely didn’t scream accountant, more like a Greek goddess or something. Her black dress hugged her body in a way that almost made Harry dizzy; he had noticed her the second he walked into the nearly empty pub – and before he could even think about it, he found his legs carrying him in her direction (he was already headed to the bar anyway, or so he told himself).

Admittedly, the way she was stabbing the chocolates had him fearing for his life for a split second, but Harry brushed it off and figured she just wasn’t a fan of valentine’s day, if her apparent disdain for the sweets and the rose before her was any indication.

He was also surprised to learn that she’d moved here from America about five years ago and this pub was one she often frequented, yet Harry had never run into her somehow despite coming here a lot and living not too far himself.

He’s glad their paths have finally crossed tonight, though.

That being said, Jules was definitely keeping him on his toes. He never knew what she was going to say next, and she certainly did not hold back from saying exactly what was on her mind.

Harry found himself liking that about her, even if her forwardness came at his expense sometimes (he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it). Oftentimes, people acted cautious around him and treated him differently just because of his status. Not Jules, though.

But now he could tell that she had something on her mind, from the way she looked at him then shifted her eyes elsewhere a second later.

“What is it?” He questioned, deciding to put her out of her fidgety state. He wasn’t sure what was holding her back, she certainly had no problem handing his ass to him earlier.

“It’s just,” she started, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the movement catching Harry attention for a second before he reminded himself to be respectful, “what are you doing here by yourself tonight? I find it hard to believe that someone like you doesn’t have anyone to hang around on a day like this.”

Someone like him? Harry furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what she was implying with her words but he didn’t believe she meant it in a negative manner necessarily.

“That came out wrong, I didn’t mean anything like that,” she quickly defended, face becoming redder by the second and Harry was a little endeared by the sight. The woman before him was confident all throughout their conversation, having no fear in expressing her thoughts, yet now she was the flustered one. And Harry couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

“What, thought someone like me had a flock of women at their beck and call and that I’d be off with one or some of them tonight?”

He gave her a blank look afterwards, pretending that he found offence in her words and he almost blew his cover at the way her face visibly fell.

“N-no!” she exclaimed, voice rising a few octaves and Harry could see the bartender, Jonah, suddenly flinch behind her from the sound. He pressed his lips together to silence the chuckle that threatened to escape and continued to stare Jules down.

“Of course I didn’t mean it like that,” she added in a much calmer tone, though Harry could detect that panic lacing her voice and he was starting to feel guilty. “I never believed that you were like that, I just,” she paused, averting her gaze away and staring at the lights above them instead, “never mind, just ignore me.”

Harry figured that she already knew of who he was and his status, and despite having just met her, the fact that she just said she doesn’t believe the rumours about him filled him with inexplicable warmth and he had to remind himself again that he’d only just met this woman. He shouldn’t feel anything of the sort towards her.

He could tell by the way her eyebrows were furrowed that she felt bad about what she’d said, so Harry called out her name and waited for her to look at him again.

When she did, her face holding an apprehensive look, he smiled at her and leaned a bit closer, which made little difference because there was still some space separating them.

“I was just messing with you, Jules,” he reached forward and flicked her nose, causing her to instinctively scrunch her face in a cute manner that had Harry’s stomach fluttering. “Doesn’t feel that nice now, does it?”

Jules chuckled in disbelief, wide eyes staring back at him and a smile was slowly stretching on her lips. “Touché. I see how it is then.”

Harry just shrugged, his own lips twitching as another smile threatened to appear. “Just having some fun, eh?”

Jules was now beaming at him and if Harry was standing, he was certain that his knees would’ve buckled at the sight. He already knew that Jules was gorgeous, and he was sure anyone would agree with him, but when as she smiled at him like that, eyes shining bright under the warm orange lights, brown hair cascading loosely yet somehow perfectly on her shoulders, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that there was an angel sitting before him.

“Truce then?”

Her voice brought him back to earth and Harry chuckled before he shook her outstretched hand, marvelling for a moment at the way it felt enveloped in his. “Truce.”

“But to answer your question,” Harry said after a few beats of silence, glancing at her to find her eyes already set on him. “I didn’t have anything planned, haven’t been on many dates recently to be honest, so I just figured I’d come here and spend time with my good friend,” he lifted his drink with a wide grin on his face, “alcohol, the one thing that never let me down.”

Jules threw her head back in a laugh, the sound being music to Harry’s ears and he wished he could record it just to hear it again and again. “Amen to that.”

The two clinked their glasses together, laughing stupidly for no reason, before they threw their heads back to drink.

“Another round, then?”

Jonah suddenly appeared in front of them, startling Harry a bit. Sometimes he forgot that the man was lingering around behind the bar.

Jules took the liberty to respond for the both of them, exclaiming a “hell yeah, buddy!” that had the two men laughing, and soon enough their glasses were refilled.

After taking a sip, Harry leaned his head on the palm of his hand and set his eyes on Jules again, “So, are you a fan? Of me or of the band?”

He had to ask, he couldn’t help but wonder. If she was indeed a fan, she certainly didn’t show it.

Jules shrugged, playing nonchalant it seemed, but it didn’t escape him the way her cheeks seemed to redden. “Eh, I dabble. You’re alright.”

Her response made him chuckle. “Good to know.” Call him a narcissist, but he really wanted to know whether or not she liked his music. Perhaps he’ll inquire further later.

Because Harry knows that there’s no way he’s letting Jules go anytime soon.

Getting to know Harry was fun.

Sometime during the night, Harry had migrated from his seat onto the bar stool beside her, their thighs brushing against each other every now and then.

Tapping his fingers around his glass, Harry’s rings clinked against it and Jules couldn’t help but be slightly captivated by the action. She wasn’t one to stare at anyone’s hands, but she had to admit that Harry’s were fascinating to look at; his long and slender fingers, adorned by a number of his infamous rings, were truly a sight to see.

She took the chance to also admire his outfit, something she was too busy to do earlier on. His coat was long discarded on the stool beside him, which allowed her eyes to run over his figure. His upper body was covered by a plain white t-shirt with the word “Sex” displayed on his chest, a pair of pair of wide-legged black pants covering his long limbs; it was a simple fit yet it made it difficult for Jules to take her eyes off him. And his hair just looked so soft that her fingers were begging her to touch the fallen strands on his forehead.

Hearing Harry clear his throat broke her out of her trance and Jules realised from the smirk that stretched on his lips that she’d been caught in the act.

She tried playing it off, as if she hadn’t been shamelessly checking him out for the last couple of minutes and smoothed her hands down her dress, adjusting in her seat because honestly, her butt was starting to ache.

But she didn’t want to leave just yet.

Seeming to notice her discomfort, however, Harry downed the last bit of his drink before setting his glass down with a smack, causing Jonah, who was still lingering around them, to shoot Harry a warning glance and a low “careful!”, to which Harry smiled sheepishly before turning to face her again.

“Want to get out of here?”

Jules’ eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, having not expected him to want to continue spending the night with her.

“Sure there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing?” She couldn’t help but question, still struggling to grasp the fact that he still wanted to be around her. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her dress, eyes staring into his emerald ones as she waited to hear his response.

Truth be told, she was enjoying his company far much more than she had anticipated and she didn’t want to part from him just yet.

To her relief, a dimpled smile adorned Harry’s face as he took in her words before he shook his head, “Trust me, Jules, there’s no one else I’d rather be with tonight.”

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t skip a beat at that.

The two got up from their seats after thanking Jonah and fighting over who’s paying because Harry insisted on paying for her drinks. As she was gathering her things, she felt Harry’s presence behind her and she realised, after looking at him over her shoulders, that he was holding her coat up for her.

Heat rushed into her cheeks at the gesture, finding it sweet that he was helping her when he didn’t really have to. “Thank you,” she whispered, turning to him with a smile after feeling him adjust her hair.

His only response was a faint “No need” and he quickly turned to shrug on his own coat, the bashful smile on his lips not going unnoticed by her.

Flashing Jonah another smile, Harry extended his arm towards her and nodded his head towards the exit. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

The two stepped into the night, the biting London air hitting Jules’ cheeks immediately and she was positive her nose was already red from the cold.

Jules reached into her pocket to grab her phone, realising that she hasn’t checked the device since she walked into the bar. There weren’t any notifications that she missed, which wasn’t surprising since her friends (all four of them) were out on dates or staying at home with their partners, so she was sure no one was thinking of her at the moment.

Noticing that it was already 8 in the evening and they were aimlessly walking down the street, Jules turned to Harry with a questioning gaze. “Where are we going?”

Leaning his head down to look at her (or perhaps to be closer, Jules wasn’t sure), he paused, seeming to think, before shrugging his shoulders. “Dunno if I’m quite honest.”

Jules found herself chuckling at him. How did her day end with her walking around with no purpose with a man she’d just met?

She looked at the sign closest to them before she turned to him and did something she rarely ever did. She found herself inviting him to her apartment because they were quite close.

A smirk found its way onto Harry’s lips and she started to regret her decision. “Already trying to get me into your bed, Juliet?”

She mentally cursed at the way her heart leaped upon hearing her name roll off his tongue. Almost no one called her Juliet anymore, except for her parents when they were being serious, but she found herself wanting to hear him say her name over and over again.

Shaking her head at the thought, Jules reached her arm out and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Oh come off it, you idiot. You can just go ahead and cry alone in your mansion if you want.”

Harry raised his hands in surrender and muttered an apology, although the smile lingered on his lips and Jules tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her chest.

“Lead the way, then.”

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get us something to drink.”

The walk to her apartment was full of smiles and laughter. She’s come to the conclusion that Harry loves making people laugh, even if his jokes were actually awful, but she found it endearing; he was like a ray of sunshine bringing joy to those around him.

She was glad that she had cleaned up the place a couple of days ago, it would’ve been embarrassing to have someone over to see pyjamas and junk strewn over her furniture. Suffice to say, Jules was a bit of a mess around the house.

After hanging up her coat and Harry’s, she made her way into her kitchen and looked for the good wine she reserved for special occasions. She easily grabbed it, along with two glasses, but then Jules found herself lingering by the kitchen island.

It dawned on her that there was a man in her living room, and he wasn’t just anyone. This was Harry Styles, someone she’d long admired and holy shit was this really happening?

And as sad as it may sound, she’s never felt this connection with anyone before, never felt like the person before her got her and could keep up with her. Yet with Harry, it felt different, and that scared her because she’d only just met him a couple of hours ago.

And he was bound to forget all about her after tonight. He’s just looking for some company, and Jules didn’t think she was that special. Eventually, he’s going to leave. Just like everyone else.

Feeling like the black marble of the island was starting to swirl in her vision, Jules snapped out of her thoughts and sucked in a deep breath before moving back towards the living room.

Harry had his hands interlocked behind his back, perusing through her record collection and it made her inadvertently smile. She was proud of her vast collection of vinyl records, a good portion of them handed down to her by her father; they both had a deep appreciation for records that her mum often made fun of them for.

“Found anything you like?” He jolted at her voice, not having noticed her presence behind him, but then his shoulders immediately relaxed.

Turning towards her with a wide grin, Harry gestured to the shelf behind him. Jules liked the way he seemed to glow underneath the dim lights and she wished she could take a picture of this moment as a keepsake. “This is amazing, there are records here that I couldn’t even find.”

“You can thank my dad for that,” she told him, making herself comfortable on the couch but not breaking eye contact once, “he’s been collecting them for decades and I’m so glad he let me have some, like you should see his collection back home, it’s even more impressive.”

“Hope I’ll get to someday.”

His response caught her off-guard. Before Jules could react, Harry’s teasing voice carried through the room.

“You dabble, you said?” He smirked, turning the Fine Line record in hand to show her and also nodding to the space that held One Direction records. Jules groaned out loud and flopped against the back of the couch.

“A little yeah. Sue me.”

She blushed under his amused gaze, a little embarrassed that he’d found her collection of the band’s records and his own solo music.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, dimples adorning his cheeks, “think it’s cute that you’re a big fan.”

“Don’t know why that makes me cute but okay if you say so.” She mumbled under her breath, realising that he heard her when he chuckled.

“Mind if I put on something then?”

Jules shook her head, signalling for him to go ahead while she poured their drinks. Soon afterwards Stevie Nicks’ voice filled the silence and her lips tugged up at the choice.

The couch dipped beside her when Harry sat down, the scent of his cologne invading her senses. Jules doesn’t think anyone has ever smelled as good as him, but she chose to keep that thought to herself and instead handed him his drink.

A few moments of silence passed after he quietly thanked her, Stevie’s voice the only thing that can be heard.

“So,” he started, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, a shit-eating grin on his handsome face, “would I find any 1D posters if I went into your room?”

“Oh fuck you.” She threw one of the cushions at him, smiling at the way he threw his head back in laughter.

Jules did not mind his company at all.

“Hold on a minute,” Harry straightened up from his previously relaxed position on the couch, “you all work together and you see him and his new girlfriend every day?”

“Yup, you can imagine how fun that is.” She loved her job as an accountant, having always been fascinated with numbers, but she hated having to see him every day in the office across from hers.

It’s not like she hated him, they actually ended on good terms, all things considered. Leon wasn’t bad, he never cheated on her, but the feelings between them just died out, a flicker of something that dwindled into nothing. So, they were friendly with each other and that’s probably the reason why he brought her a box of chocolate and a rose.

But Juliet just didn’t like the daily reminder that she was in fact much lonelier than he was; it’s like rubbing salt in the wound.

“Shit, Jules, that must be hard,” he frowns, leaning forward to pat her hand, “I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s not that serious,” she mumbles, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks at the simple touch and she mentally cursed herself. She had sworn off men for the unforeseeable future. “I’m over him. You know, I actually think I was never really in love with him to begin with.”

“Why’d you think that?” He questions, his thumb still softly caressing her hand; Jules wasn’t sure if he was aware of that or was absentmindedly doing it. Either way, the touch warmed her.

“I think,” she started, setting her glass of wine on the coffee table so she could sink in further into the couch, the move unintentionally bringing her body closer to Harry’s. “I think I was just happy to have someone around, someone to spend time with. I’ve spent a lot of my life alone and I think I just clung onto him because he kept me company.”

A few beats of silence passed before she continued. “That makes me sound horrible, no, it’s not like I used him, I did enjoy his company and we had a lot of fun together, but I think I was just in love with the idea of him, not him.”

Harry nodded his head, leaning back and mirroring her position, “I understand. That’s how I felt in most of my relationships actually. I longed to have someone around so I wouldn’t be lonely, but I’ve learned over the years that having company doesn’t mean that you won’t feel lonely.”

“You sounded pretty heartbroken on your last record though.” If she wasn’t as inebriated as she was, Jules would have probably had some filter and wouldn’t have said that.

Luckily, Harry chuckled in response and relaxed further into the couch, retracting his hand from hers (she instantly missed the warmth), but he didn’t seem upset. “I was. I would say that I was actually falling in love with her, so I was a bit of a mess when she left me.”

His words made her frown. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t know how anyone could leave you.” She muttered under her breath, forgetting that she was usually louder than normal after she’s had a few drinks.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

With her cheeks flushed, Jules forced herself to look him in the eye again. “You don’t even know me.”

“But I’d like to get to know you.” He almost instantly shot back, resting his chin on his hand and his dimples made an appearance, “I think you’re very interesting.”

“Pfft, me? Interesting?” She laughed, waving him off with her hand. “I am anything but.”

“That’s not true!” Harry vehemently denied, sounding almost offended at the thought, which admittedly made Jules’ heart skip a beat. Just a little.

“I’ve spent a few hours with you now and I can already confidently say that you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” his eyes shone bright as she stared into them and she could somehow tell he was being sincere, “and trust me, I’ve met a lot of people.”

Dramatically placing a hand over her heart, Jules flashed him her biggest smile. “Oh how special that makes me feel, I can just die happily now.”

Even though she was being melodramatic, his words did cause Jules’ heart to flutter. In the past, some people told her she was annoying, or brash, and some others would make her feel invisible and undeserving of attention.

Harry, though, was unlike anyone she had ever known. From the moment they met, Harry made her feel like the centre of his attention, never once ignored her or brushed her off, even when she was taking the piss; his emerald eyes were always set on her, giving her his undivided attention as he listened to every word that came out of her mouth.

Jules was definitely not used to that.

Harry threw his head back in laughter, a sound that Jules found to be a beautiful melody, and gazed at her with those bright eyes. “Oh you’re insufferable, I take it back.”

She gasped in feigned shock, crossing her arms with force. “No backsies.”

Another melodic laugh left Harry’s mouth and she couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips; right then and there, Jules decided that his laugh was one of her favourite sounds.

“Backsies?” He echoed, his tone still laced with laughter, “what are you, five?”

“Shut your pretty mouth.”

“Oh so you think I have a pretty mouth?” His smirk caused his skin to flush and she cursed herself for saying those words. She really needed to think before she spoke, something her parents always reminded her of.

She recovered quickly, bringing her glass closer to her mouth. “I mean, it’s fine, your lips are a little on the thin side but-“

“Heyyy now,” he protested, pink lips forming a pout and Jules definitely thought about kissing them at that moment. “That’s not nice.”

“Never claimed I was nice now, did I?” Jules smirked, feeling a sudden surge of confidence as she took another sip from her drink.

Jules did not miss the way Harry’s eyes seemed to darken just a little, his jaw tensing as she continued to stare him down. Harry leaned forward, mouth opening to respond when suddenly a shrill tone burst their bubble.

Patting the couch cushions, Jules was trying her hardest to forget the look on Harry’s face as she searched for her phone. Stop it, Jules, he’s an international rockstar and he won’t even remember you after tonight.

She sighed in relief when her hand made contact with the device, but that quickly turned into a groan upon seeing who the caller was. Looking back at Harry, who was leaning against the armrest simply staring at her, she shot him an apologetic look before she answered the call.

“Hey, mama” she closed her eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Not that she was expecting anything to happen between her and Harry, but the mood was definitely ruined now.

“Hello, honey, how are you? Are you home yet?” Her mother’s calming voice sounded from the other side of the line, making her smile a bit despite the interruption. Ever since the breakup, her mom made sure to call her frequently to check up on her, even though Jules insisted that she didn’t have to.

“I am home, mom, yes,” she responded, shifting her gaze back to Harry who was now leaning his head against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed.

“Good, good. Just checking on you, cariña, how was your night then?”

“It was fine,” she paused for a second, not sure if she should mention meeting Harry now, but she decided it was best not to, “had a few drinks then went straight home. Think I’m gonna go to bed in a few actually.”

She could tell by the way Harry’s lips twitched that he was awake and listening.

“I won’t keep you up then,” some noise was in the background and she heard her mother whisper to someone, “okay, honey, good night! And your dad says good night too.”

“Good night, mama,” Jules smiled, finding herself suddenly missing her family that she hasn’t seen since the holiday season. “Tell dad I said good night too, and that he better spoil you today.”

Her mother’s laugh ringed loud on the other side, “We’re going to dinner tonight, cariña, and he even got me a large bouquet of my favourite roses! Joseph shh- Alright then, bye bye, sweets, love you!”

“Bye, mama, love you too.”

A few seconds passed after she ended the call before Harry spoke up, head tilted to the side. “That sounded sweet. Does she check up on you often?”

Jules hummed in response, resting her head sideways on the sofa so was mirroring his position. “Especially after the breakup. She just worries too much about me.”

“I don’t think she needs to,” he shot her a gentle smile, one that made her want to wrap her arms around him and bask in his warmth, “her daughter’s a very strong woman.”

Not finding any words to say in response, Jules continued tracing Harry’s features, lazily admiring the slope of his nose, the curve of his brows, the sharpness of his jawline; everything about the man before her was mesmerising.

Turning her gaze back to his eyes, Harry flashed her another smile before sitting up straight, the smile slowly dropping. “I should probably go now, it’s getting late.”

Jules immediately wanted to shout “no!” and ask him to stay, but the rational part of her mind told her that she shouldn’t, that she would only set herself up for heartbreak when he finally leaves her.

So the only thing she could say was a faint “Okay.”

As they stood up, it seemed like Harry was holding back from saying something, but she didn’t know if she was just reading too much into things. It was probably just her hazy mind (though she’d argue her head has never been clearer)

They silently made their way to her door, Jules feeling deflated at the prospect of his departure. Would they keep in touch? Would she just become a distant memory, a miserable woman he spent a lonely valentine’s day with?

“Can I-“ Harry abruptly stopped in his tracks, causing Jules to almost run into his back because she was trailing behind him. His demeanour was suddenly all shy when he turned to face her, cheeks flushed crimson.

Jules waited with bated breath and wide eyes for him to continue, heart beating loudly in her chest.

“Can I have your number?”

Relief washed over Jules and Harry visibly relaxed at the bashful smile on her lips. Jules didn’t know why he was so nervous, but the sight was so endearing to her.

She added her number after he handed her the device, secretly smiling at her contact name Juliet x. She already earned herself an x after her name after a few hours? Jules’ heart was beating so loudly she feared Harry would hear its calls for him.

Jules watched him put his shoes on, wishing the night wouldn’t end so soon and wondering if it would be too forward to ask him to stay longer.

Deep in her thoughts, Jules didn’t register that Harry was standing in front of her, bodies close enough that the scent of his cologne engulfed her senses once more.

“I should go now.” Harry whispered, leaning down and wrapping his arms around her and Jules had never felt so whole. She’s heard about Harry’s incredible hugs and now that she’s experiencing it, she never wanted to let go of his warmth.

Harry broke their embrace much too soon for her liking, but not before peppering a gentle kiss on the side of her head. “Good night, Juliet.”

Say something. Don’t let him leave. “Good night, H.”

And then he was gone and Jules was left on her own once more.

After staring longingly at the closed door, as if he would suddenly appear behind it, Jules sighed and made her way back to the living room, slumping against the couch cushions and wishing Harry’s arms were around her again.

Her phone dinged on the coffee table, signalling the arrival of a text. A simple “Hey. I really enjoyed tonight. H” was staring back at her.

Jules contemplated for a few seconds, heartbeats picking up their speed again, before she whispered “fuck it” and clicked on his number.

“Juliet?”

Deciding to go after what her heart wants for once, Jules didn’t hesitate to respond, “Do you want to-“

But an insistent knock interrupted her and Jules wanted to scream at the intrusion. Who on earth would be knocking at her door at this hour?

“Harry, hold on just-“

She takes frustrated strides to the door, ready to yell, but the sight behind it made her anger immediately evaporate.

“H-Harry? What are you doin-“

“What were you going to ask me?” He interrupted, sounding a little out of breath and she wondered if he ran all the way back to her apartment.

Feeling emboldened by his return, Jules took a few steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands immediately grabbing her face and pulling her closer, their lips joining together in a gentle yet eager kiss.

Jules felt her body melt in his hold. Their kiss only lasted for a few seconds before they pulled apart, still lingering so close that she could taste his wine-stained lips.

“Stay?” Jules asked, rubbing her nose against his, her heart thudding in her chest as she waited for his answer. Her words carried more weight than she had intended them to and she hoped they wouldn’t scare him off. But her worries vanished when she felt him smile widely against her lips.

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

Maybe valentine’s day isn’t so bad after all.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and please come talk to me about Harry and Jules and tell me your thoughts!

#1dffvalentine #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles x ofc #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic

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gralunaisland · 2 years

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Gray before the 100YQ unknowingly drank a love potion when juvia did that disgusting transfusion thing bc she is gross enough to risk a life or death battle for her own agenda. That’s the real reason Gray is such a different person from then on and in 100YQ, I’m sorry pros, I don’t make the rules. gruvia is still not real and Gray was ruffied into thinking it is, not all villains want to take over the world and they are not all discovered and defeated.

You know what, I've never thought about that, Anon. That's a really interesting theory!

My personal thought is that Gray was mentally and emotionally manipulated by juvia's death (it wasn't a sacrifice because juvia wasn't losing anything by dying because if Gray died, she'd die anyway) thanks to the fact that so many important women in his life have died (his mom, Ur, Ultear), and because he didn't want to lose anyone else, and because, as I've said in this post, (where I articulate this better) he felt unnecessarily guilty since juvia let him know every chance she got that she wanted his love, and he felt he owed her his love since she gave her life for him.

I haven't seen the entire scene where she dies and saves his life somehow myself, because I don't feel like torturing myself rn, but I'm not totally sure it was Mashima's intention to make her blood a love potion. There isn't really a precedence that would prove that, and she required a love potion before in that one filler episode, so I'd think if her blood was a love potion that she'd use that instead.

Then again, I'm sure it wasn't his intention to make Gray emotionally manipulated by juvia either, but honestly that makes way more sense than him genuinely falling in love for her just because of the one good thing she did for Gray. (I said in that post I linked up there that it doesn't make sense that Gray would fall for juvia, the girl who's been a thorn in his side for years and whom he's rejected many a time, only because she was willing to die for him BECAUSE many other people have been willing to die for him, and he didn't fall for any of them. The only reason he "fell" for her is because he knew she loved him, so he felt he owed her a "second chance" thanks to that).

I definitely agree that juvia is one of those subtle villains who doesn't want to take over the world but instead wants to own Gray. People are not commodities, and Gray should have a say in whom he wants to date. juvia doesn't give him a say, and that makes her perfectly classified as a villain.

I hope everything I said made sense, and if it didn't, I'd suggest reading the post I linked because I did a better job explaining myself there. Thank you for sending an ask! I love to hear everyone's observations and opinions!

#i wouldn't put it past juvia to roofie gray #and that's just sickening #she psychologically roofies gray that's for sure #askgraluna #ask #anti gruvia #anti juvia #anti juvia lockser #anti juvia loxar #fairy tail #anon #defend gray fullbuster #gray fullbuster

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mobagehelllocal · 3 years

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“lucky ending” extra notes i & iii

Hi, I said I would do it but then I released ver i so long ago that I felt I shouldn't do this unless I had another version out at least so yay! finally! ... I'll add ver ii here when I get around to writing it... *shifty eyes* So as usual, this is just my thought process and ideas while writing lol.

*please do not read if you haven’t read “lucky ending” ver i (dorm leaders) & ver iii (rook & lilia).

It was inspired by an anon ask and the button tradition from Japanese schools.

The anon ask went like this: First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much. – from Anonymous

The button tradition, as narrated by the first years, is done when one person confesses and the other responds by giving them the button closest to their heart. In most Japanese uniforms it’s the second uniform, but in Twisted Wonderland--I looked at the ceremonial robes and the closest button should be the fifth. Maybe. I could be wrong.

The songs I listened to while writing this!

The original dorm leaders (and Rook) was written while listening to “Lucky Ending”, the ending theme of Fruits Basket. The English lyrics (translated by otenkiame!) are:

“Change is important. I want to do it well,/ but I wanna cry. It's still bad. I wanna cry”

“The word "goodbye" has disappeared completely from this world/ All that remains is me fooling around next to you/A day you don't laugh won't come anymore”

“I've understood it since being here/ These feelings of wanting to protect you aren't a misunderstanding/ If we can call what connects us bonds,/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Even if in a different world, it'll never be different/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Don't change, ever/ Stay here, stay here”

I think it’s obvious why I chose to use this as the title of the series. It’s a story about change but it’s also a story about the things you don’t want to change... And I think it’s not wrong to want to hold onto things.

I also listened to the same playlist that I listened to while writing “wendy?” “hello peter pan”:

“Can’t help falling in love” cover by Annapantsu, “If you’re not the one” by David Beddingfield, “Who Knew” by P!nk and “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift.

For Lilia in particular, I was listening to three Beauty and the Beast songs on loop. “Evermore” by Josh Groban, “Days in the Sun” by the live action cast and, of course--”How does a moment last forever” by Celine Dion.

“How does a moment last forever?/ How can a story never die?/ It is love we must hold onto/ Never easy, but we try/ Sometimes our happiness is captured/ Somehow, our time and place stand still/ Love lives on inside our hearts and always will”

Also for Lilia, Tolerate It by Taylor Swift.

“You're so much older and wiser and I/ I wait by the door like I'm just a kid”

“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life”

Malleus was definitely the first piece finished. Closely followed by Vil’s. I believe there was a gap inbetween them before I did the others? I wrote bits and pieces of Leona, Idia, Kalim and Azul’s. I think I finished Leona, Idia, Kalim then Riddle because I distinctly remember saving Azul for last.

One of the most important things for me, is that each story stands distinct of each other. So I gave myself a really hard time trying to figure out how each one uniquely belonged to each of the characters.

For the Prologue... I think because it’s set at the graduation of certain characters, I used that to my advantage and implied the stronger bonds between the Yuu!Reader and the entirety of the cast. Because a lot of time has passed and I feel like--regardless of what other people believe, bonds will be made and relationships will have strengthened enough for it to happen.

Riddle is honestly another really difficult character for me to write. I generally do love him and I enjoy his story, but something about him is difficult and I’m not sure why.

I think a part of me is also really miffed because from Heartslabyul-Savanaclaw, you could feel that Riddle really cared for Yuu on some level but then he just straight up disappears come Octavinelle chapter. I feel like there was potential to develop their relationship even more.

He WENT UP AND TIED YOUR RIBBON I REMEMBER I WENT DOKI DOKI OVER THAT.

I feel like because I’ve established that it’s a Yuu!Reader, it’s impossible for this story to not include both Ace and Deuce. So of course they featured in really big roles for this one, being responsible for telling Riddle the story.

I have to thank my friend, Mes, for bouncing ideas with me. They were the one who suggested what I could do with Riddle’s story by having ADeuce play such a big part!

I also tried my hardest to include Trey and Cater, and I’m pretty happy with their cameo. In a way, they definitely helped Riddle figure out his own feelings for you.

My favourite lines are: “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”

I wish someone would tell this to Yuu in general though. They’re the only one who has ever been in their situation (to our knowledge at least) and like... they’re definitely allowed to be even more selfish.

Leona is someone who I used to dislike a lot. I never hid that. It’s primarily because of how disappointed I am in the story of Savanaclaw probably. But like, I was always concerned about writing him properly because I thought that it was only right that I did right by him, because there would be people reading these stories who loved him. And I felt like I had to do right by that love.

I think... it’s wrong to believe that characters... villains... cannot fall in love or “won’t fall in love.” I think it’s wrong also to think that “people don’t change for love.”

In fact, people do change. You definitely shouldn’t change yourself to be loved, but... people change all the time to be their “better” selves. So whose to say that a good person, who you love, will not make you want to improve yourself? Isn’t that what we want when we meet people? To fall in love with someone who will ultimately make you better and never worse.

Or so that’s how I try to write the Twisted characters when they fall in love... With an understanding that “morally” the person they are falling for is “kind” and “good” and how a part of them might just want to be better just for that person. (Especially Leona and Azul). They don’t necessarily have to be nice to everyone, but if they can be better for one person... We stan healthy character growth.

But yeah, Leona is driven by understanding that he’s a very selfish person. But that he’s also very unfortunate and he doesn’t want tie you with someone who, he thinks, is actually worthless. He probably, deeply, thinks you deserve more.

Though his selfishness eventually wins out and well... Won’t you forgive him for it? :) For tying you down to this worthless second prince?

I think his own self-awareness does make him try harder. Not for everyone or everything... but for you. Just for you. I think that would be Leona’s love language--spending time with you, trying for you.

He’d appreciate if you didn’t call him out on it though, that would be very embarrassing.

Looking back, I’m surprised that it was the only version where none of the other boys from his dorm showed up lol. Which means Ruggie is the sole character who has yet to appear in the “lucky ending” series, huh.

My favourite lines from his story that still leaves me breathless and patting my past self in the back: ““I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.”

Like honestly, what was I on? Who was she?

Azul is, like Leona, someone who is so keenly aware of the things he’s lacking. In fact, he’s someone who thinks he’s lacking when he’s probably perfect in some aspects. He might act proud but a part of him--I think--thinks its not enough. It’s never enough. He can certainly do better still.

In that light, it’s why he thinks he’s undeserving of a partner. Especially one who is “kind” and “understanding.” While ultimately, Azul deserves people in his life who are that and “accepting” of him--I think he still thinks he doesn’t.

And thats why he lets go of the Yuu!Reader. It’s why he doesn’t “chase” after her like Leona did.

It’s because he’s selfish, because he wants her--that he forces himself to let go.

Azul needs someone who’ll tell him that he is worth something and that he’s definitely worth the effort. So please praise him a lot until he’s crying in happiness. I’m sure it’s the one thing he’s always wanted to hear from people around him.

Also my Poly!Octavinelle Agenda has never died and I am pleased Past!Ai got away with so much Poly!Octa hints in this story lol. But honestly, regardless of wht Octavinelle says... god, you can tell they genuinely care about each other.

I recently rewatched Octavinelle’s chapter and... by god, the amount of things I missed out on first watch. Jade’s concern when he realized Azul wanted to get rid of that photo... The fact Floyd was so willing to drop the fight to return to Azul too... Anyways, Poly!Octa Agenda for life.

Favourite lines: “Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.”

It’s not as poetic as a lot of my other favourites, but for some reason these lines always get me when I reread them. There’s something so visceral about it.

Azul’s piece is probably the least visually stimulating out of all these stories? His was so emotionally driven compared to the others and I worried a lot about that.

I think I remember I was crying so badly as I was writing this.

Kalim is really hard for me because I feel like I struggle a lot with finding conflict in his character? He’s such a genuinely nice person, I find it hard to believe that the Yuu!Reader would feel alienated from him or something. So I brought in “environment” to get in the way.

My use of celestial imagery for Kalim is because of the Scarabia trailer! I really loved how it put Kalim as the sun and Jamil as the moon. I definitely will take advantage of that when I get around to writing for Jamil.

So because I wanted to use the sun, I chose to use the idea of comets for Kalim? I think I remember something about how meteors are drawn to the gravitation pull of the sun and can “escape” it or “be destroyed” by it. Haha, hot.

Jamil is someone who ultimately cares about Kalim too and I had fun writing his banter with the Yuu!Reader. I think I wanted to decribe the shadows licking his face reminscent to the marks from his Overblot but... I felt like doing that would give Jamil too much focus so I ultimately decided against it.

It would’ve been hot though.

Oh yes, one thing I wanted to talk about is Kalim’s rushed proposal. I remember people talking about it in the tags, comments... even in asks at that time. The reason he does it is because he’s someone who didn’t realize his feelings until you spelled out your own. It was a sort of: “Oh. Right. That is the word I’d use to describe my feelings.”

My favourite lines from his story is: “How does one bid goodbye to the sun?” and “No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.”

My god, who was this genius.

Vil is probably the most visually stunning out of all these stories. I feel like my stories go from super vivid imagery and setting to just complete emotional disasters lol. (Vil being the former and Azul’s being the latter... not that it’s bad, it actually suits the characters).

Oh man, I remember thinking that Vil is such a hard character to write because we don’t know what his motivation for perfection is. All we knows is that he wants to be the best but, why?

It’s like, for example, Idia. His motivations could be otaku-related. He doesn’t want to go to class because he’d rather go play or something. That sounds in character--but Vil was so hard because he wanted perfection.

But we already see him as such a perfect character, so what else did he need to be even more perfect? In that light, Chapter 5 did a really good job on presenting Vil’s motivations.

But honestly, I think I can comfortably say that the Vil I’ve written so far is pretty accurate? To his character. I’m really grateful I read his chat lines because his comment about intelligence really got me thinking about his possible motivations. It made it really easy to understand that Vil wasn’t like majority of the real world’s influencers.

One other thing that I was really happy about with his story is the use of the flower language. It’s something I hope I can use more because it’s so beautiful.

Oh! And the roses the Yuu!Reader talks about are double delight roses. They are specifically bred to have two colors--yellow in the center and pink on the outside. I thought it fitting that the Yuu!Reader breed special roses for Vil.

They can be called... err... Vil Roses?

My favourite lines from his story is: ““My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” [...] “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side.””

This line was actually inspired by Zelda C.W.’s MYth series. Specifically Hera’s story, Will.

Idia ...for him, I somehow had a very hard time imagining him trying to tell the reader to stay. Like that didn’t compute for me? I felt like his version was better approached in a more comedic light somehow.

I also felt that it would be cuter if the Yuu!Reader had already chosen to stay and Idia would need to hastily retrack his confession... Unfortunately, Yuu!Reader won’t let him.

Honestly looking back on it, I wonder how much of Chapter 6 is going to make me scream and want to rewrite Idia’s part?

My favourite lines from his story is: “He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.”

A lot of my interpretation for Idia is closely linked to personal experience as an anime, manga and gaming fan. It was just a couple of years ago where people would actually be bullied for liking these things--but nowadays its become a norm. It’s... stunning actually but it makes me happy to know that maybe nobody will be judged for loving anime.

That being said, Idia’s longing to find someone he can talk to is something I really relate too--back then, it was so difficult to find someone to talk to about my interests... So I interpreted Idia as much the same. That what he enjoys about the Yuu!Reader is their ability to simply sit and listen to him talk.

Malleus... man, recently I’ve been starting to fall in love with him all over again. He was my first oshi ever... Anyways, moving on. You think I’ve talked enough about immortal x mortal but nope, we are not done. I love this theme in general, romantic or platonic.

I will never shut up about it you can’t make me.

Sebek having a good enough friendship with Yuu!Reader is such a delicious concept. Like mutual respect and Sebek understanding that Yuu!Reader gives Malleus a different type of companionship that Sebek, Silver or Lilia couldn’t...

And also, ultimately, Sebek and Yuu!Reader do love Malleus. In different ways, but I like the thought of Sebek respecting that and respecting the Yuu!Reader.

Me realizing just now that Silver joins Ruggie in the: “has never appeared in a lucky ending fic club.”... Sorry Silver, I swear soon. Once we get more content on you.

Celestial themes for Malleus are primarily, again, because he only ever seemed to meet you at night. And I thought it would be wonderful, if you were a bright spark to him.

Favourite lines are definitely: “Oh, bright light… I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side… rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.”

I am, always, going to be such a big sucker for the idea of immortals constantly remembering and loving mortals. Always holding them close in their memories, because in that way--their lovers have become immortal with them.

I also like to imagine that he eventually figures out a way to connect your worlds together so you can still talk to your friends and family from that world. He is one of the most powerful magicians around, I’m sure its possible.

Rook was honestly the most difficult piece for me to write because he’s so hard(?) for me to understand. He’s a mess of contradictions honestly and I... guess I’m excited to see what he’ll do come Chapter 6.

I actually rewrote his story so much. I got about 500 words with a different idea/plot in mind before deleting that completely and restarting from scratch.

I feel like Rook is someone who talks big and talks about love without actually knowing what it truly might feel like. He’s someone who doesn’t understand it and ends up mistaking it for his fascination.

Aside from me enjoying inserting other characters from the same dorm as much as possible, I felt that Vil was the perfect person to snap some sense into Rook.

Epel’s appearance there is basically to reflect how much I really hope the first year kids get really close to one another.

Rook is also someone who I think, doesn’t try to explain himself too much. He’s someone who I think talks a lot, but if people don’t understand him then he doesn’t need to be understood? That’s my impression. Lol, when “lucky ending” became a character study.

I also really loved the idea that Rook was fine with people running from him--to him that makes it all the more thrilling. But then you start running away from him and that just ends up making dread pool in his stomach.

My favourite lines from his story: “‘When something ends, it must be sad. So, tell me then, how an ending could be so beautiful?’ [...] .‘But there was one ending that was beautiful, non?’ [...] ‘That’s right. ‘They lived happily ever after’—are those not the words that define a beautiful ending?’”

I used the dusk metaphor for Rook. My idea is that he starts seeing dusk as an ending and how he can’t fathom how any “ending” is beautiful. When a story ends, it’s not beautiful to him, humu. But when that ending is the happily ever after then... That makes all the difference.

Lilia was actually easier than Rook’s but also fairly difficult. I had written the middle of Lilia’s piece while stumped on Rook’s actually. Lilia’s was probably easier because I love the idea of immortals and mortals.

I don’t really like the idea of mortals becoming immortals. Like, yes, it’s certainly sweet and spending eternity with a one true love is definitely the best possible ending but... I think there’s so much weight in an immortal choosing to love a mortal while knowing that they will ultimately lose them.

The biggest theme for Lilia is definitely time.

Thinking about it now... There’s been a lot of things in real life that’s just... Made me think about how we have less time than we actually think we have. And I think I ended up channeling that through Lilia... Though I feel like it is ultimately things Lilia would think about though.

The most important imagery would probably be the stars.

I honestly wanted to avoid it because I used celestial imagery for both Kalim and Malleus but the words just flowed out in a way that I felt that I couldn’t replace. So I went with it.

Lilia is no stranger to loneliness. One of the reasons he feels less alone is because he has family now and he doesn’t want to rob you of that. Family is so important to him because they are people who are meant to be with you--they are people who will make you less lonely--or so thats how I think? he thinks.

My favourite lines from his story: “He would relish in the way—You made the world pause. You made a moment extend into an eternity. You made an immortal crave just a little more time.”

I’m so immensely proud of this one? I don’t really have much else to say. There’s something so raw about it that I love. Also the part where it continues on to say that “Because there is never enough time.”

Me realizing my extra notes is just half me simping over these characters, half sharing headcanons, have actually giving good advice? perspective?, half song lyrics, half character study/analysis?

“lucky ending” is about change. Whether we want them to happen or not it’s... the human condition to change. For better or worse, we change--day by day. I think we all operate under a small panic about how everyday things are changing...

But “lucky ending” is also about the things that don’t change. Won’t change. Will never change. The things worth holding onto, the thing worth fighting for... or so I’d like to think.

#aimuses #ainotes #ai lucky series #twst #twisted wonderland #its 6 AM HEEHOOO

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serenadeonacanoe · 3 years

Text

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

#namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #artist!namjoon

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fructidor · 3 years

Text

Random amrev figures and their MBTI types!

Overview of the MBTI theory & Cognitive Stack

MBTI Theory

I vs. E = Introvert vs. Extravert. Introverts tend to be more shy and work independently, while Extraverts are more social and like working & interacting with others.

N vs. S = Intuitive vs. Sensor. Intuitives are people who always think ahead and are tired idealists. Sensors spend more time focusing on the now than the future, and take their information through their senses.

T vs. F = Thinker vs. Feeler. Thinkers tend to use their head rather than their heart to make important decisions in their lives, while Feelers use their emotions more to make decisions than their heads.

J vs. P = Judger vs. Perceiver. Judgers tend to follow a set structure when it comes to subjects, while Perceivers tend to go more with the flow, going where life takes them.

Cognitive Functions

Cognitive functions are the way you process the world around you and make decisions. Cognitive functions ultimately determine your type. They are scales of Intuition vs Sensing and Thinking vs Feeling. Then there is this thing called a cognitive stack. The way you order this is very important because it shows which cognitive function is the most dominant and least dominant.

Primary → Most natural (and comfortable) function; the internal “mother tongue”

Auxiliary → Supporting function, usually connected with creation and job choice

Tertiary → Function where individual often takes action steps to improve upon

Inferior → Activates under extreme stress, generally avoided out of self-protection

Extraverted Sensing (Se)

Taking action, using all five senses, going forward. Se takes in the present moment in its entirety, and makes rapid decisions on the fly. During times of crisis and emergencies, individuals with primary or auxiliary Se can make the best out of the situation.

Introverted Sensing (Si)

Associations, metaphors, nostalgia. Si can travel back to any point in time through a single scent or sound. Important information (and sometimes interesting trivia) is stored in filing cabinets, where it can be retrieved at any later time.

Extraverted Intuition (Ne)

Brainstorming, thinking outside the box, idea generation. Ne easily hops from idea to idea, while making abstract connections. Many artists—especially poets—use significant Ne in their work. To the outside, Ne seems quick, random, and extremely “jumpy.”

Introverted Intuition (Ni)

Time-space awareness, predicting the future, hunches. Ni is a far-reaching, visionary function—and can picture the future, sometimes with scary-accurate results.

Extraverted Feeling (Fe)

Expressive emotions, social norms, etiquette. Fe respects the consensus of the group, and puts harmony above personal desires. The function often acts as a mediator between groups, as it naturally puts others’ needs above its own.

Introverted Feeling (Fi)

Values, notions of “right” and “wrong,” likes and dislikes. Fi is a deeply personal and intense function that digs to the core of the human condition. Convictions, morals, and strong beliefs all fall under the Fi umbrella.

Extraverted Thinking (Te)

Facts, pros and cons, methodological step-by-step strategies. Te respects rules and regulations—and takes great pride in a job well done. Checklists and clear-cut meeting agendas get Te’s gears going—a top-down approach floats its boat.

Introverted Thinking (Ti)

Iterations, holistic reasoning, agile strategies. Ti takes a bottom-up approach to problem-solving, and fixates on information management. When new data comes in that contradicts old beliefs, Ti will shift like a fluid crystalline framework.

We'll start off very simply, with George Washington.

Washington = ISTJ.

Cognitive Stack: SiTeFiNe

I = Introverted

S = Sensor

T = Thinker

J = Judger

Type Description: ISTJs are responsible organizers, driven to create and enforce order within systems and institutions. They are neat and orderly, inside and out, and tend to have a procedure for everything they do. Reliable and dutiful, ISTJs want to uphold tradition and follow regulations.

ISTJs are steady, productive contributors. Although they are Introverted, ISTJs are rarely isolated; typical ISTJs know just where they belong in life, and want to understand how they can participate in established organizations and systems. They concern themselves with maintaining the social order and making sure that standards are met.

Additional Notes: Washington is the stereotypical ISTJ. He fits all the criteria and it honestly just matches up the best.

John Adams = INTJ

Cognitive Stack: NiTeFiSe

I = Introverted

N = Intuitive

T = Thinker

J = Judger

Type Description: INTJs are analytical problem-solvers, eager to improve systems and processes with their innovative ideas. They have a talent for seeing possibilities for improvement, whether at work, at home, or in themselves.

Often intellectual, INTJs enjoy logical reasoning and complex problem-solving. They approach life by analyzing the theory behind what they see, and are typically focused inward, on their own thoughtful study of the world around them. INTJs are drawn to logical systems and are much less comfortable with the unpredictable nature of other people and their emotions. They are typically independent and selective about their relationships, preferring to associate with people who they find intellectually stimulating.

Additional Notes: I mean, John Adams could go several ways with me, but INTJ seems to work out the most fine. I don't have an objection to it.

Thomas Jefferson: INFJ

Cognitive Stack: NiFeTiSe

I = Introverted

N = Intuitive

F = Feeler

J = Judger

Type Description: INFJs are creative nurturers with a strong sense of personal integrity and a drive to help others realize their potential. Creative and dedicated, they have a talent for helping others with original solutions to their personal challenges.

The Counselor has a unique ability to intuit others' emotions and motivations, and will often know how someone else is feeling before that person knows it themself. They trust their insights about others and have strong faith in their ability to read people. Although they are sensitive, they are also reserved; the INFJ is a private sort, and is selective about sharing intimate thoughts and feelings.

Additional Notes: This doesn't seem overly like Jefferson at first, but overall the cognitive function stack matches up the most. You could make the case that he is an INTJ, but honestly I feel that Te would not be his auxiliary function. Fe would be a much better type.

James Madison: INTP

Cognitive Stack: TiNeSiFe

I = Introverted

N = Intuitive

T = Thinker

P = Perceiver

Type Description: INTPs are philosophical innovators, fascinated by logical analysis, systems, and design. They are preoccupied with theory, and search for the universal law behind everything they see. They want to understand the unifying themes of life, in all their complexity.

INTPs are detached, analytical observers who can seem oblivious to the world around them because they are so deeply absorbed in thought. They spend much of their time in their own heads: exploring concepts, making connections, and seeking understanding of how things work. To the Architect, life is an ongoing inquiry into the mysteries of the universe.

Additional Notes: Another ✨ Stereotype ✨. I just feel that whenever I think of INTPs, I think of Madison. He just fits, again, all the criteria and makes the most sense.

Alexander Hamilton: ENTJ

Cognitive Stack: TeNiSeFi

E = Extravert

N = Intuitive

T = Thinker

J = Judger

Type Description: ENTJs are strategic leaders, motivated to organize change. They are quick to see inefficiency and conceptualize new solutions, and enjoy developing long-range plans to accomplish their vision. They excel at logical reasoning and are usually articulate and quick-witted.

ENTJs are analytical and objective, and like bringing order to the world around them. When there are flaws in a system, the ENTJ sees them, and enjoys the process of discovering and implementing a better way. ENTJs are assertive and enjoy taking charge; they see their role as that of leader and manager, organizing people and processes to achieve their goals.

Additional Notes: I'm actually a ENTJ, so I had a lot of this stuff in my head. I mean, I could kind of see Hamilton being an ENTJ, but I'm still pretty mad that he is, considering I hate him. But, it kind of makes sense, and it’s to the point that I can’t ignore it and just have to accept the fact.

Benjamin Franklin: ENTP

Cognitive Stack: NeTiFeSi

E = Extravert

N = Intuitive

T = Thinker

P = Perceiver

Type Description: ENTPs are energized by challenge and are often inspired by a problem that others perceive as impossible to solve. They are confident in their ability to think creatively, and may assume that others are too tied to tradition to see a new way. ENTPs rely on their ingenuity to deal with the world around them, and rarely find preparation necessary. They will often jump into a new situation and trust themselves to adapt as they go.

ENTPs are masters of re-inventing the wheel and often refuse to do a task the same way twice. They question norms and often ignore them altogether. Established procedures are uninspiring to the Visionary, who would much rather try a new method (or two) than go along with the standard.

Additional Notes: I just feel that in general, Franklin is the stereotype of the ENTP type too. They are honestly all inventors, and out of the box thinkers? Who do I think of when I hear this personality trope? Franklin.

James Monroe: ESTJ

Cognitive Functions: TeSiNeFi

E = Extravert

S = Sensor

T = Thinker

J = Judger

Type Description: ESTJs are hardworking traditionalists, eager to take charge in organizing projects and people. Orderly, rule-abiding, and conscientious, ESTJs like to get things done, and tend to go about projects in a systematic, methodical way.

ESTJs are the consummate organizers, and want to bring structure to their surroundings. They value predictability and prefer things to proceed in a logical order. When they see a lack of organization, the ESTJ often takes the initiative to establish processes and guidelines, so that everyone knows what's expected.

Additional Notes: Monroe is definitely not the founder that I focus the most on, but the criteria for the ESTJ type fits him really well from what I’ve read and heard. Don’t really have an objection to this, and I support it enough to place it in this document.

John Jay: INTP

Cognitive Stack: TiNeSiFe

I = Introverted

N = Intuitive

T = Thinker

P = Perceiver

Additional Notes: Wow, another INTP? Yes. Again, Jay isn’t the founder that I spend the most time with, but the INTP type fits him the most. Funny how a diplomat has Fe as an inferior function...it doesn’t matter much here though, as what matters is the fact that all the other functions match up the most. And, I guess Hamilton was thinking of INTPs when he wanted to write the Federalist Papers, huh?

Aaron Burr: INFJ?

Cognitive Stack: NiFeTiSe

I = Introverted

N = Intuitive

F = Feeler

J = Judger

The Counselor has a unique ability to intuit others' emotions and motivations, and will often know how someone else is feeling before that person knows it himself. They trust their insights about others and have strong faith in their ability to read people. Although they are sensitive, they are also reserved; the INFJ is a private sort, and is selective about sharing intimate thoughts and feelings.

Additional Notes: I can’t ever decide with this man. Before I found out cognitive functions existed, I had my heart set on him being an INTJ. Now I know that cognitive functions do exist, however, I find that he fits more of an INFJ function set. I still can see him as an INTJ, no doubt about that, but I’ll settle for the other Ni dom for now.

John Laurens: ENFP

Cognitive Stack: NeFiTeSi

E = Extravert

N = Intuitive

F = Feeler

P = Perceiver

Type Description: ENFPs are people-centered creators with a focus on possibilities and a contagious enthusiasm for new ideas, people and activities. Energetic, warm, and passionate, ENFPs love to help other people explore their creative potential.

ENFPs are typically agile and expressive communicators, using their wit, humor, and mastery of language to create engaging stories. Imaginative and original, ENFPs often have a strong artistic side. They are drawn to art because of its ability to express inventive ideas and create a deeper understanding of human experience.

Additional Notes: In general, I feel that Laurens just matches up the ENFP stereotype really well and all the cognitive functions. I mean, NeFi is pretty accurate for him, and I think at this point it’s self explanatory. Not to mention the fact that ENTJ & ENFP are, arguably, the most compatible personality types of the whole entire MBTI system.

Marquis de Lafayette: ENFJ

Cognitive Stack: FeNiSeTi

E = Extravert

N = Intuitive

F = Feeler

J = Judger

Type Description: ENFJs are idealist organizers, driven to implement their vision of what is best for humanity. They often act as catalysts for human growth because of their ability to see potential in other people and their charisma in persuading others to their ideas. They are focused on values and vision, and are passionate about the possibilities for people.

ENFJs are typically energetic and driven, and often have a lot on their plates. They are tuned into the needs of others and acutely aware of human suffering; however, they also tend to be optimistic and forward-thinking, intuitively seeing opportunity for improvement. The ENFJ is ambitious, but their ambition is not self-serving: rather, they feel personally responsible for making the world a better place.

Additional Notes: I feel that Lafayette could also match up with the ENFP personality type easily, but I decided not to fully go for it. Why, I don’t know. I feel the ENFP stereotype I have fully reserved for Laurens, and that Lafayette has taken my ENFJ stereotype as a substitute. I also used to think of Lafayette being an ENFJ highly before I learned about cognitive functions; once I did learn about them I started debating his type. In the end, I’ve just decided on him being an ENFX (x being a variable for either j or p), albeit with a ENFJ lean.

Elizabeth Schuyler-Hamilton: INFP

Cognitive Functions: FiNeSiTe

I = Introvert

N = Intuitive

F = Feeler

P = Perceiver

Type Description: INFPs are imaginative idealists, guided by their own core values and beliefs. To an INFP, possibilities are paramount; the realism of the moment is only of passing concern. They see potential for a better future, and pursue truth and meaning with their own individual flair.

INFPs are sensitive, caring, and compassionate, and are deeply concerned with the personal growth of themselves and others. Individualistic and nonjudgmental, INFPs believe that each person must find their own path. They enjoy spending time exploring their own ideas and values, and are gently encouraging to others to do the same. INFPs are creative and often artistic; they enjoy finding new outlets for self-expression.

Additional Notes: INFPs are often seen as the “cinnamon roll” of the MBTI types (their dominant Fi and auxiliary Ne playing a big part in this) and who is more of a cinnamon roll than Eliza. I know this is honestly more of a Hamilton thing than an Amrev one, but I felt like I wanted to include her, as she was really the person I spent the most time focusing on, MBTI wise, before I encountered Amrev and everything that was left of my Hamilton infatuation dissipated.

#i wrote this a month ago but i’m posting it now #i think it’s also on ao3?#amrev #alexander hamilton #john laurens #george washington #john adams #thomas jefferson #james madison #john jay #james monroe #marquis de lafayette #elizabeth schuyler #benjamin franklin

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ms-demeanor · 4 years

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Hi, can I get some clarification? At one point does lusting for a person/feeling lust for someone become objectification?

Objectification is treating a person like an object, like a *thing* instead of a person.

(for the purposes of this post I am primarily going to be talking about sexual objectification though parents treating their children like objects is DEFINITELY a thing)

I would argue that objectification happens when you disregard a person’s autonomy (not that you overrule or deny he fact that they HAVE autonomy, but like it doesn’t even occur to you that your choices should be considered because they’re not real enough to you in that moment for it to matter).

Having a crush on your friend or thinking that the cashier at a store is sexy isn’t objectifying them. Resenting your friend for not returning your crush or taking a photo of a sexy cashier to share on social media is objectifying them. Arguably just thinking about someone while masturbating is, to an extent, objectifying them. But imagining the sexy cashier taking you out on a nice picnic date and showering you with presents and buying you a pony is objectifying them too.

I’ve got a hot take here: Objectification isn’t inherently bad.

There’s a person at my gym who has some fucking THIGHS. Every time they’re at the gym they’re on the stair machine for a minimum of thirty minutes. I’m pretty sure they can’t wear jeans because I can’t *imagine* the kinds of jeans that would fit over this person’s quads. Every time I’m at my gym and this person is working out their thighs it’s a little bonus perk for my gym visit. In fact it’s kind of an incentive: if I go to the gym maybe I’m gonna get to see THIGHS and that’ll be cool.

This person is an object to me. At a conscious level I know that they are a real person with their own thoughts and desires and agenda and whatever but that’s not what they are to me. What they are to me is Damn! Thighs!

And that’s not a problem.

However if I *follow* them around the gym to look at their thighs, or if I stare obviously and move so that I’m working out behind them, or if I follow them out so I know what their car looks like so I can make sure to go into the gym if I see them in the lot THAT is a problem. And if they introduce themselves to me and I don’t remember their name or their interests and all I ever want to talk about is how hot their thighs are then THAT is a BIG problem. And if they were my coworker and I ignored their achievements and didn’t listen to their requests because their needs were less important to me than hot thighs and anyway if you spend so much time looking good you’re probably an idiot who doesn’t really work but just gets a paycheck because the boss likes looking at you and your work doesn’t matter THEN that is a VERY VERY BIG problem.

You are allowed to lust after and objectify people so long as it doesn’t impact the actual real world and that actual real person.

Chris Evans is an object to me. He’s pretty. I like looking at him. He doesn’t have any idea that I exist so me seeing him as just a pretty dude and ignoring everything else about him doesn’t matter. And I cannot tell you how much I DO NOT want to personally humanize Chris Evans as a celebrity and form a parasocial relationship with him where I know about his dog and his siblings and look at pictures of his family at the holidays. I’m much more comfortable experiencing Chris Evans as an object than as a person, thanks, and I’m pretty sure that for most celebrities that’s how they want most of the world to interact with them. But if I were to meet him and objectify him by presenting him with sexual fanart of him or if I were to have an interview with him about his political website and only asked him questions about his workout routine THEN it would be a problem for me to objectify him and I would be doing so in a way that was directly harmful to him.

Also. In terms of nonsexual objectification:

I keep hearing random liberals say that Biden needs to nominate a woman of color as his running mate.

I hear it over and over but I’m not hearing names, just “Joe Biden needs to nominate a Latina” “Joe Biden won’t win if he doesn’t run with a Woman of Color on the ticket.”

Over and over. But no names. No policy. Almost as if people are seeing this possible running mate like some kind of talisman or token or object or fetish (in the original “magical object’ sense, not the sexual sense) instead of a theoretical politician with experience and ideas of her own.

Hm. Gross.

And yes it is COMPLETELY possible to objectify men and we as a society do it A LOT and I kind of have the objectification of men as commodities in the popular music industry as a special interest that I’ve done a lot of reading and research and writing about.

Objectification is a thing that people do. It is arguably a *necessary* thing that we do in our society, where we’re aware of so many hundreds or thousands of people that we can’t actually individually treat them like humans (and we can’t even meaningfully conceive of MILLIONS or BILLIONS of people).

So let’s look at George of the Jungle (because that’s what we’ve been talking about today)

The ladies looking wistfully at George as he plays with the horses: these characters are objectifying the character of George but it is likely harmless because he doesn’t even seem to notice that they’re ogling him.

Ursula’s roommate/friend staring at George naked: this character is objectifying George and it *could* be harmful to his character because it will change their interactions and the way she views him and the dynamic between him.

The advertising for the film focusing on a shirtless character slammed into a tree: Not objectifying George.

Tumblr focusing on gifs of George/Brendan Fraser without his shirt: Objectifying the character/actor, harmless (though if you approached the actor on the street and said “Oh my god, I am so hot for your ass in that one scene where you’re wearing the bowl” that would be harmful)

People focusing on Brendan Fraser’s weight gain and lamenting that he’s no longer sexy: Objectifying the actor, potentially harmful to the actor (because people frequently tag the actors in criticism like this) and definitely bodyshaming in a way that can be harmful to the people who encounter the criticisms.

Fans expecting actors to maintain a particular level of fitness outside of a film: objectifying the actor, harmful.

Studios expecting actors to perform complicated stunts without adequate preparation or safety precautions: Objectifying the actor, harmful.

Studios and audiences expecting actors to be dangerously dehydrated so that they appear extremely muscular or extremely fit when filming; Objectifying the actor, harmful.

A film executive expecting an actor to perform sexual acts for them or to tolerate sexual touching because they’ve cast the actor for a part: Objectifying the actor, harmful.

So it’s interesting that while the actor Brendan Fraser was likely objectified in the process of making this film (especially considering that, yeah, there was probably some unhealthy dieting and some dehydration to look as lean and muscular as he did in some scenes) the film as a whole does not objectify the character of George.

Anyway.

Shit’s complicated and there’s not a clear dividing line but it’s okay to think of people as objects sometimes because that’s honestly a thing that we have to do to get through the day without keeling over from overextended empathy but it’s not cool to *treat* people like objects and media that treats people like objects frequently models behavior that people normalize even if they don’t intentionally emulate it so it’s worthwhile to have discussions about the objectification of characters in media.

There we go.

Easy, right?

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.

Titans 3.06

y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!

as always, typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?

... oh, i’ve just started.

1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick.

1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)

i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is.

(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)

2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!

2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.

2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in!

(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)

2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.

3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point.

(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)

3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.

(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)

3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:

a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth.

b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!

c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it?

d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really.

e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.

also:

*pinches his cheeks*

3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it.

i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.

3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!

4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well.

anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable.

when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...

4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!

5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.

5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?

why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?

5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.

5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.

5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.

6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...

(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)

6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.

6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...

7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.

7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY

8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something.

like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia.

8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.

8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)

9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”

honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.

MY MAN CONNER

10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!

a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.

b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole.

c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.

d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan. we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.

e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.

f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room

i need, crave gifs of this scene!

11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!

12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!

(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)

12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING

13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3

13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1

13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.

14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.

15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.

15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!

16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?

whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.

17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?

17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change.

18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?

18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents.

there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.

but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it.

18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.

19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #koriand'r #barbara gordon #garfield logan #conner kent #komand'r #jason todd #jonathan crane #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart #a tragic jalebi #this is a 3k+ MONSTER yikes

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korissideblog · 3 years

Text

ohh it's time for a sillie little sports festival fic <3

Tsumi belongs to the lovely @glitchviper , who also helped me a ton while writing this <3

[tw: fighting; derogatory language; like... Aito gets nasty with it]

Tsumi was preparing for the fight, her usual redgement of slow stretches. She wasn’t sure how this tournament would end, and she honestly didn’t want to think about it. She just had to get past the first round, then she could worry about the next one after.

Time slowed as she stretched her arms over her head, breathing calmly to soothe her nerves. Just do it. Aito would probably hate her for winning, but some things were just more important than other people’s opinions. Winning this sports festival meant more than just a metal and a ‘good job’ from her teachers. It meant proving herself to her peers- and earning her place in the ranks of Pro Heros.

But she shouldn’t think about that. She shouldn’t even be thinking about the fight right now. All she should be thinking about is her muscles relaxing as she stretched her legs. She would do her best. If her best lets her win, that’s good. If her best still ends in loss.

Then at least she’ll know what to work on.

___________

Aito’s forehead was an interesting sight.

Not that it was fairly fascinating in any way. Honestly, other than the twin horns poking out of the top, it was the model of an average teenager’s forehead. The only thing that was interesting about it was…

Was that you could see it.

Usually her forehead could only be seen in small slivers, seconds before you were charmed by the boy’s eyes. But for the sports festival, Aito seems to have an agenda in mind. You see, Aito is a strangely cruel creature, the kind to drink blood just to taste it, but there were just certain sympathies that were impossible for even her to ignore.

But with her bangs held back with a bandana and her poisonous yellow eyes on full display, she seemed more than willing to ignore them today.

___________

The girls stood across from each other on the floor of the stadium, Aito facing the crowds and waving as the announcer warned them to not look directly at the boy, especially not his eyes. Tsumi focused on her breathing, preparing for the fight ahead. She didn’t plan on much, Aito seemed an easy enough opponent. He was hubristic, and would probably lose interest in the fight in favor of the crowds. All Tsumi had to do w-

And then Aito looked at her. His eyes shattering into millions upon billions of fractals, all moving and shivering and growing and shrinking and rattling and screaming and-

And suddenly Tsumi found herself kneeling, the sides of her vision cloudy and dark as she continued to stare directly at Aito’s eyes. The next thing she knew, she was laying on the ground, the taste of concrete only shadowed by the pain in her head. She felt like she had been trampled by marshmallows- a fairly pleasant sort of pressure all over her body as she looked up to see Aito waving to the cheering crowds, and looked at a nearby television screen as a replay showed Tsumi kneeling before Aito, and the boy slowly approaching before landing a kick into the side of Tsumi’s head. She had charmed her. Tsumi knew vaguely of Aito’s quirk- and tried to figure out how to fight without looking the student in the eyes when-

Tsumi felt hands on her horns, and was immediately greeted by the sickeningly yellow eyes that she only wanted to avoid, the fractals returning and only growing worse with proximity, seeming to somehow engulf everything that wasn’t the darkened sides of her view.

“Breathe, Tsumi.” Aito commanded, helping Tsumi rest on her knees. “You’re going to have to breathe. You’re stressed. Just breathe.” Aito watched as Tsumi inhaled and exhaled, nodding as her breath returned to its regular pace. Aito had noticed Tsumi start to hyperventilate a bit when she hit the concrete, and wanted to make sure she was still alright.

He wanted everyone to see what a spectacular fighter he was, and he couldn’t do that if his opponent was in a suboptimal state.

“Tell me, are you tired, Tsumi?” Aito asked, trying to get a quick rundown on Tsumi’s state of mind.

“No- not tired. My head hurts.” Tsumi admitted, clearly under Aito’s control as she seemingly tried to look away, but just couldn’t. Aito also felt the need to look away, honestly, she’s never looked directly at one of her classmates for this long. Even when her eyes were covered, Aito had a habit of not looking directly at anyone he was interacting with, just as a second layer of protection. But this required focus, so even through her discomfort, Aito would press on.

“On your feet now, you need to stand up.” Aito advised, helping Tsumi up to the crowd's confusion. “Now, tell me Tsumi…” Aito whispered, slowly starting to spin them in a circle to further disorient her opponent. “Are you going to make this fight easy for me?”

“Never.” Tsumi responded honestly, with little expression in her face or voice, and Aito knew it was true. Both because of how amazingly dedicated Tsumi was and also because… you know- you can’t lie when charmed.

If Tsumi wasn’t going to make it easy on Aito, Aito wouldn't play nice either.

“Can’t you hear them Tsumi?” Aito asked, tightening her grip on the demon’s horns to keep eye contact. “They’re booing you. They’ve finally realized it. Realized that you’re scum. You’re nothing. You’re less than nothing!” Aito barked, watching Tsumi’s eye try to dart around, to look at the crowds as they jeered and heckled her in her mind, but she couldn’t. All she could do was hold Aito’s shoulders, weakly trying to push him away. “Do you have friends here, Tsumi?”

“I-I-“ she stuttered. Aito’s never gotten anyone to stutter while answering a question! Aito’s control only grew crueler as she grew more exhilarated- electrified as she imagined her next fight going just as easily- and the one after that, and the one after that, and so on and so forth till!! Victory!

“Yes… of course you do.” Aito hummed, keeping Tsumi’s hallucination laden mind focused on her voice. “They hate you. They know what you are and they hate you for tricking them.” She continued, her grip on Tsumi’s horns growing tighter and tighter as he felt victory at the tip of his forked tongue. “They’re gonna watch me put you down like the dog you are. And they’re gonna cheer! And they’re gonna thank me! Thank me for destroying you. Thank me for finally showing them what worthless vermin you really really are.”

Aito’s voice grew stronger, till Tsumi couldn’t even hear it anymore- only feel the shivers of sorrow and the wish to just keel over and die. Die right there and never have to face anyone ever again. Because she was disgusting. And she was weak. And she was worthless. And she was… she was getting so tired. So very very tired and… and she wanted to lie down… she should just… just lie down. And… and…

And the next thing Tsumi knew, she was laying down on the floor of the stadium again, again looking up at Aito- the bandana now over her eyes- as she laughed, almost seeming to shake with all the excitement. The crowds cheered hesitantly, not sure exactly how Aito got her opponent to submit, but… a winner is a winner?

Except… Tsumi could stand. She wasn’t immobilized, she wasn’t out of bounds… and she definitely never surrendered.

So… she could stand up- and she did- and she could sneak up on Aito- and she did- and she could- and did- snatch the little demon by the tail.

Aito yelped in surprise, barely even thinking to turn around before Tsumi had pulled him back into the fight. Tsumi pulled Aito to the ground and- if not with a bit of irony- kicked the creature in the head. Aito’s head made a bit of a louder noise when it made contact with the floor, but little harm was done as Aito rolled back onto her feet and shook it off, immediately charging back into the fight. He reached up to remove the bandana, but was stopped as Tsumi smacked her hand away, landing a punch within just the next second.

“Ah!! Tsumi! Ah you got my eye!” Aito whined, reaching up again to apply a soothing pressure on the injured eye and turning away from her opponent as if to shield himself. “Owowowowow!” Tsumi’s Big Sister Mode immediately kicked in as she was about to call the match off just to check on Aito’s eye-

And she suddenly realized that she should have seen this coming when Aito’s elbow crashed into her nose.

“Ah!!! You-” Tsumi barked, touching her upper lip and scowling at the blood leaking from her nose. “You brat!”

“Well hey now!” Aito huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “We don’t have to be rude!” Aito grew to regret the bandana as, while trying again to remove it, he caught a right hook to the jaw. Aito went stiff from the force, spinning around on his heel and falling flat on his stomach like a cartoon.

The crowd’s cheering came to a climax as Tsumi realized she shouldn’t underestimate anything about her opponent, and needed to finish this while she could. She reached down and grabbed Aito by the back of her collar and her wiry little tail, lifting her up just enough to throw her over the white lines and right out of bounds.

Aito huffed a bit, trying to catch her breath before finally standing to face an equally exhausted Tsumi.

“Great match señora Sumi!” Aito chirped, shaking hands with Tsumi and immediately getting back to her usual chipper attitude, as if nothing had ever happened. “I’m not too happy that I’m out of the tournament, but I’m glad I was beaten by someone as tough as you!” Tsumi stared blankly at Aito, unsure if this was some sort of trap or joke or- then suddenly Aito removed his bandana and pulled Tsumi close, clacking their horns together, as everything went into a familiar sort of tunnel vision. “Believe me Tsumi, I won’t be beaten by just anyone. If you value your sanity, you will win this tournament.” Aito spat, her grip on Tsumi’s hand tightening for just a second, before she was released again and Aito closed her eyes. “Good luck on your next fight, Señora!” Aito giggled, giving Tsumi a tight hug before slipping the bandana over her eyes and skipping back into the side door of the arena.

“Aito wait!” Tsumi called to the girl as he started to walk away. She might have been angry at the little gremlin but that didn’t mean she had nothing to say. “I hope you know the outcome of this match could have been far worse for you,” she paused, smiling a bit at Aito’s pout, “even so- I owe you my thanks. You actually managed to teach me something… and as for the tournament, I don’t plan on losing.” Despite her quirk not being activated a dark aura seemed to surround her, her voice a whisper of a sinister tone.

Aito pout turned to an equally evil smile, his tail wagging with enthusiasm as his ears flapped in excitement- as if he would burst at the seams with delight from just the promise alone. “Give ‘em hell, ‘Sumi!” she hollered, raising his hands to his head and making his fingers look like Tsumi’s horns as he cheered for his once-opponent.

Tsmui laughed wholeheartedly at the boy, turning back to her side of the arena. “I plan on it!”

#ohhh these sillie little girls <3 #aito takao #tsutsumi natsumi #bnha oc comeback #event: sports festival tournament #Kori stories

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

In the Spotlight (S.R)

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader Word Count: 5050

Summary: The one where Tony pushes Steve into a photoshoot, rubbing his hands and smirking at such action being almost a practical joke; a great way to make Cap squirm for a good cause.

Well, the joke just might turn out to be on him.

Warnings: mention of child cancer patients and disabled kids, Tony being a bit of an ass, attempt at humour, some language

A/N: The idea is a courtesy from a wonderful person, chase-your-dreams-away who always saw Chris’ FILA 2015 photoshoot as Steve showing he actually can pose. Thank you, sweet! This one’s for you!

(gif not mine)

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Ah, Cap! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

It wasn’t that he dreaded to hear there was a mission; that would be fairly alright even if it meant that the world was once again a terrible place with horrible people who needed to be stopped in it. No, Steve’s fright was caused by something else entirely.

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘Just the guy I wanted to see!’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully excited, beaming in a manner that told Steve that his friend was about to revel in the discomfort he was about to cause to him.

God help him.

Steve forced himself to continue walking, a tight mile on his lips.

“Morning to you too, Tony. What’s the matter?”

The man behind the legendary Ironman suit blatantly wiggled a finger at Steve, smirking; a clear sign that he already had his coffee, possibly with two shots of espresso.

“Morning. Glad you asked. You’re free in the afternoon, right?—Yeah, I already checked the agenda you keep with Jarvis-“ Make that three shots of espresso. Also, incredibly RUDE. But guess that what one gets when living in a building ran by an artificial intelligence. “-so I set up an appointment like four weeks ago-“

Steve shook his head, raising his hand in attempt to stop the rapid fire of words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Tony, hold on a second-“

“What?” the billionaire snapped, frowning. He hated being interrupted.

“First of all, I don’t have to share all my plans with Jarvis-“

“But you do. Sorry to break it to you, but you have no social life to keep under wraps.” Ruder. “…or do you have a hot date today?”

Steve was so embarrassed and so frustrated with the man that he was tempted to say yes just because. To make a point. But from the two men in the room, he was the less petty one, so he told him the truth.

“Well, no-“

“See? No problem here-“

“Yes there is!” Steve protested, crossing his arms on his chest as anger started to build there. “I could have had plans! You need to consult things with me! It’s about principle!”

Tony eyed Steve, unimpressed, his right brow arched. “Really? Principle? We’re gonna go there? I don’t think so. Aren’t you curious what the appointment is about?”

Steve sighed exasperatedly, so not done with the conversation Tony so carelessly dismissed, but he in fact was curious, wanting to be prepared for whatever insanity the man came up with.

Tony planning stuff usually equalled Pepper planning stuff, or both of them together, except Pepper had a habit of asking first before confirming the plans and setting appointments. Also, plans by Pepper usually equalled PR. Steve wasn’t too fond of PR stuff, genuinely hating shaking hands with politicians with smiles as fake as their election slogans.

“What’s the appointment about, Tony?” Steve asked to humour his not-exactly-a-friend-at-the-moment.

Tony smirked once again, a hint of mischief flashing in his dark irises.

“Feeling pretty today, Rogers?”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, his muscles tensing; that sounded even worse than he had imagined.

“Huh?”

“Cause you’re gonna promote a new sports collection. You better start posing in front of the mirror to get your head in the game,” he mocked lightly, just as Steve predicted, basking in the horror that overtook Steve’s very being along with utter disbelief.

“What? Why?”

Steve did not enjoy being photographed. It usually involved ‘striking a pose’ or whatever the kids called it these days and once again, strained insincere smiles. Yeah, he was more than alright to take a picture with a fan if they were a kid who looked up to him. But other than that? Ugh.

“Come on! Lighten up, Rogers! It’s for charity!” Tony called out, stepping closer to pat Steve’s bicep. “Uh-huh, firm, good.”

Please let me leave, Steve begged the heavens, unsure if Tony was actually fawning over his muscles – serum-induced and supported by hard work, thank you very much – or if he was mocking Steve again.

“But seriously, it’s for charity that deals with enabling the disabled kids to do sports, any kind that’s possible with their impairment really. From some sort of a football to marathons or archery or whatever. It’s for a good thing.”

Steve felt the tension in his shoulders partly subdue, relaxing a bit. For one, that did sound like a good cause and for two, there was a barely noticeable change in Tony’s voice, just a little waver in his tone, giving away that for all the smirking and nudging and shit-talking, the genius cared for people and had a heart. Having a heart - Tony Stark’s most heavily guarded secret.

Steve sighed, his previously lost appetite returning.

“Alright, Tony. Where, when and what do I need to do?”

The other man patted his bicep again, this time in a truly friendly manner and grinned. “I’ll let Jarvis give you the details. You just try not to screw it up. Seriously, train how to smile in front of a mirror or something. Some poses, whatever. The photographer looks pretty good – not just professionally, if you know what I mean-“

Steve couldn’t help the eyeroll at the remark, one that was followed by Tony’s scandalized insulted gasp as he slowly made his leave, gesturing.

“-so I guess you don’t have to worry… much. Not sure if there will be trunks involved. Or a speedo. So, you know, keep it in your pants and don’t look anywhere I wouldn’t… which isn’t leaving much-“

“Bye, Tony,” Steve called after him, resisting the urge to childishly cover his ears just so he wouldn’t have to listen to the dirty teasing.

“What, it’s a valid concern we don’t want a lawsuit form her--“

“Go before I rattle you out to Pepper,” Steve grunted and at that, the genius grimaced and swiftly disappeared in the doorway.

Steve once again sighed and decided that he might need a bit more carbs in his breakfast than originally planned just so he survived today.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You weren’t kidding anyone – you were a teeny tiny bit nervous. Your career had been rather colourful, you dipped your fingers in many kinds of photography and you still enjoyed the diversity, the various pictures of beauty – and there was a lot of beauty in the world to be captured – still calling out to you.

You had met famous people before too and you always managed… but Captain America was a whole new level of a challenge. You were feeling equal parts worried and damn lucky for being picked for the job; a job you wouldn’t get a penny for. Shooting a thing like this for charity with a name as great as Steve Rogers, that wasn’t about money – not quick one at least. It was about prestige.

On the other hand, you would get almost any props you’d think of, within reason, of course – just saying a word was enough. And you had a few, images already painted in your head as you read on Steven Grant Rogers a bit more, got a good look on pictures online, and obviously, saw the collection.

Thinking about it, maybe it was him who should be scared, because excitement was the leading emotion of yours for while now.

You saw him arrive, the chatter about it instantly spreading like fire. And honestly? He did look a bit spooked, so you took the liberty to knock on the room he was provided with, the stylists already in.

“Come in!” sounded from the inside and you took a deep breath, poking your head in – and deciding that entering fully was more polite since you were about to introduce yourself.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted him, only a showing a smidge of nerves on the outside, you hoped.

As you offered your name, the blond man – built like a tank, a very handsome tank, with the sweetest inviting smile and bright eyes – rose from his seat immediately, holding out a hand to shake, introducing himself as well as if it was necessary. It was a nice sentiment, however.

“Please, call me Steve. Something tells me that formalities would only get in the way,” he said with a slight curve to his lips and you felt yourself relax right away. He’d be excellent to work with. Now you really couldn’t wait.

“Then you must call me by my name too. Thank you for suggesting it,” you accepted delightfully, eyeing the pair of stylists you had met before on similar projects; this kind of business was all about knowing the right people. You nodded at them, grinning. “Now, Steve, I have a very important mission for you.”

The captain’s eyebrows jumped at your wording – and at your teasing. You scolded yourself lightly for your choice of words, unwittingly nudging him towards the wrong headspace. You didn’t need a soldier now, quite the opposite.

“Oh?”

“I need you to tell these two lovely people what amount of make-up and what hairstyle you’re comfortable with,” you explained, earning a slightly confused tilt of Steve’s head. “Sure, I have a certain visual in my head, I’m sure they have too.” You exchanged a knowing look with them. “But most of all I need you to feel good. If you’re pressured into something you hate, we can’t work any magic there.”

Steve nodded in understanding, stiffly, and you had a hunch that he might have been pressured into this whole thing.

“But please don’t leave on us now,” you added quickly and he huffed a short laugh, bittersweet, letting you know that you were correct in your assumption.

“I won’t leave. But thank you for the tip.”

Gosh, he was so polite and had a subtle air of greatness around him (also known as BD energy these days), you could bask in his presence forever – but you had to work.

“All in days’ work. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Your heart skipped an excited beat when a twinkle appeared in his brilliant blue irises and you were done for.

You really hoped your hands wouldn’t shake; you’d hate for the pictures to be blurry.

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Once you were in your own kingdom of wonders, all nerves vanished, only child-like giddiness remaining. However, same couldn’t be said about Steve; he entered the space, fidgeting – not too obviously, but visibly enough – eyes flickering all over the room as if he just arrived to a Wonderland indeed.

If you were being honest, such a hunk of a man appearing so endearingly lost… he was kinda adorable.

You felt the corners of your lips automatically rise at your silly thoughts and at the image of him. Besides adorable, he sure looked hot in the white jacket. Who knew sportwear could look so alluring?

“Looking good here, Steve,” you called out as he approached and upon meeting your eyes, he attempted a smile too – little too apprehensive on the edges for you to believe it was honesty and not sheer professional courtesy. “Clothes feel good?”

You could see his expression melt into pure puzzlement at such question, clearly not having expected it.

“Oh… uhm, yes. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said. I need you to be comfortable, Steve,” you reminded him softly, earning a rather frantic nod.

“I… am.”

You could practically hear the unspoken ‘sort of’. Well, it was a work in progress.

“Little steps. Alright, so… I’m gonna be talking a lot. Cut me off whenever I’ll be getting on your nerves too much, okay? We’ll start with this set-up, with this background, obviously. I need to you to just walk to the centre- good, now turn your head to the left—a bit more… perfect.” Not.

Uh-huh. Probably his first time; you should have figured, though a heads-up would be nice. You should have asked dammit. You chewed on your lower lip, gears in your head spinning wildly as you tried to assess him.

Mm.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

His head snapped back to you in surprise and you couldn’t but chuckle, mock-frowning at him. He realized his mistake and quickly looked away, returning to the pose you had attempted to set him into before – his beautiful profile now dusted with pink.

“The colour?” you encouraged him and started taking photos even if you knew you wouldn’t use them, not with his shoulders so stiff and his expression slightly twisted in confusion still – even if he apparently tried to look natural.

“Uhm, blue.”

His face relaxed a fraction and you smiled to yourself.

“More sky-blue or royal blue or something entirely else?” you continued, not at all surprised when a second later you learned that it was sky-blue.

You thought it might be because of his eyes and you wondered; perhaps his eyes were the only thing that hadn’t changed during the serum transformation. His eyes were last straw to grasp at when his whole body suddenly didn’t feel like his.

Or maybe he was moonlighting as an artist, appreciating all kinds of beauty like you did and knew his stuff.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen colour so well before his transformation and fell in love with the particular shade upon seeing the sky.

“Mm… ever had the time to appreciate the sight of the ocean? Breath-taking blue on the surface, matching the sky, reflecting the sunrays so sharp that it would make one squint—but you don’t, you can’t. Because damn, it’s so beautiful and you can feel the breeze in your hair, almost flowing between your fingers and you just have to keep your eyes open to commit to memory what it looks like, how it feels, the sand between your toes, the sun warm on your skin…”

You babbled on, your heart fluttering at how damn magnificent Steve looked now, gradually relaxing his posture, his eyes softening, the corners of his mouth subtly raised in a smile, not an artificial one, just a soft curve to his lips as he lost himself in a pleasant memory – or a daydream. You had to remind yourself to press the shutter release; it would be too easy to simply watch the man in front of you coming out of his shell, releasing his light and grace for everyone to see.

“Absolutely wonderful, Steve, thank you. Shall we move on?” you praised him softly and his absurdly long lashes fluttered as if he indeed woke up from a dream. He appeared to be a little lost again, but the smile remained on his lips.

“Of course. Where do you want me, ma’am-- I mean-“

“Oh hush!” you interrupted him rudely with a grin. He was too precious for words, resembling a puppy, all soft and loveable and yet he was somehow so respectable; you’d have to watch yourself just so you wouldn’t fall in love with him in the short time you were given together. “No ma’am, we’ve been over this. Now…”

You instructed him to walk to the wall of a ‘beach house’, half of the background imitating the very beach you had described; you offered him a different jacket and a cap to hold in his hands, the item serving more than one purpose; one was the campaign, the other was to give him something to do with his hands.

For this picture, you had him looking at you, which made you fidget self-consciously for a change; this time, the story you came up with was to put both of you at ease.

At this point, Steve was an open book to you – or, well, open enough. You had done your reading on him a bit, sure, but now you truly started to see his personality – one of your favourite parts of doing photography coming into play.

“Alright. Posture is great. Now, do you often meet kids?”

Steve wasn’t as surprised at the question anymore, replying calmly, but almost without a thought.

“Yeah. We, uh, we sometimes go to the hospitals to make the patients’ day a bit better? It’s such a small thing to do, I know, for an oncological kid, but they are always delighted. And they are so brave, I feel like a—well, like a sucker compared to them.”

“Weren’t you sickly as a kid?” you questioned lowly and Steve’s gaze dropped as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his expression falling.

“Done your reading, huh?”

“The wonders of 21st century and our educational system. But I’m just bringing it up to make a point. I think that you can see them and that’s why they like you visiting so much. Something tells me that you can truly feel what they feel and they sense it – kids can be ridiculously intuitive. Maybe you share, I don’t know of course, but I think that somehow they just know and they see a fellow warrior who beat all the illnesses too. And they look up to you, because you give them hope. And not just sick kids. I bet you met a few kids claiming you’re their favourite superhero just because you have a frisbee.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, but you could see that what you had said before the funny bit touched him and it had been that part that had the desired effect – to pull him back where you wanted him, relaxed and positive.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You’re not everyone’s hero for nothing, Steve, you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff to begin with. But I think it’s what behind the shield that some people find even more inspiring. Be proud of that too.”

The perfect shot was taken and you couldn’t but recall the quote I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying, because yeah, you could weep now. You quickly stood up and took few more pictures, because it was too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

“And look at you, turning into a model so easily when it comes to helping people, again,” you teased him lightly while being nothing but honest.

As at ease as he appeared now, you’d think he was doing this on a regular basis. As if you hadn’t been trying to coax out his true self out for everyone to see in a simple photo just a few minutes ago.

His hands found their way into the pockets of temporarily his jacket, gaze falling to the floor before his eyes locked onto yours, grateful and gentle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s all you. Thank you for being so patient with me. I thought this would remind me of the old days when I-” He hesitated, blue eyes lightly misted with doubt, so you beckoned for him to continue to speak freely. You’d got into some pretty deep stuff yourself just a moment ago after all. “-when I was a lab experiment to show off.”

You nodded in understanding, even if you couldn’t imagine what was it like; then again, in your early days, you had met enough parents who came to your atelier to show off their trophy children, so this wasn’t exactly a foreign concept.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that however you hated doing it, you were giving people hope back then too. And it’s not right to reduce person to a symbol, but symbols were and are important. As long as there are people who are able to see beyond the simplification, then I think it’s worth it. Then again, I never was anyone’s dancing monkey, so…” you shrugged, internally cringing at being such a blabbermouth, afraid that you came too far, put Steve off and that he would withdraw back to his shell.

But he didn’t. He gifted you a brilliant smile, one reaching his eyes.

“And all this?” you hummed, vaguely gesturing around, hoping he’d catch on. “I’m glad if you like the way I work, but the pictures? That’s not me, Steve, that’s you. And all I hope for is to show people a little bit more of you, throwing away the shield and letting them see that Steve Rogers is just as radiant.”

The intensity of his gaze now was enough to make your heart stop beating, his expression suddenly unreadable and you quickly covered your mouth, an apology already spilling from your lips.

“I’m so sorry if this made you uncomfortable and I turned into one of the fawning fangirls, that wasn’t my intention. You have to stop me when I get too much-“

“You’re didn’t and you don’t,” he smiled kindly and shook his head, appearing genuine. “I just never met anyone like you. And I mean that in the good way, just to be clear.”

You felt your face burn; because of your TMI talk and his compliment.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered out, causing his smile to turn radiant indeed.

He kept watching you, silent, eyes roaming your face, irises blue and intense—when had he got so close? Or did you walk to him? He was positively prettier upon closer inspection, all sharp edges to his jaw, lips calling out with how damn soft they would be, not to even mention his hair, and oh, was that a drop of green in his eyes? Oh wow, you could drown in that single drop, surrounded by the most enticing shade of blue and--- you closed your eyes and cleared your throat, trying your best to ignore the tingle in your fingertips and in your gut, pleasant warmth in your core-

“We, uhm, we should probably go back to work,” you whispered, licking your lips as you once again glanced at his and you swiftly spun on your heels, desperately trying to remember what shots you wanted to take next and if it was time for him to change already- oh god, you couldn’t possibly handle the thought of him losing clothes…

His expression dimmed a fraction, an epitome of slipping back into politeness. “Of course. Tell me how you need me… ma’am,” he teased, subtle quirk to his lips and you felt your cheeks burn hotter— but your breathing got easier as he was letting you know that you were still alright.

You had a half-mind to call him a soldier in the same manner, but you didn’t want him to slip into that persona.

“Oh, you have no idea what you signed up for, Steven.”

He chuckled, but followed you as you walked to the next scenery.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“What the hell, Rogers?!”

Why?

And this right here, the ‘What the hell, Rogers?’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully exasperated and perplexed at some of Steve’s past actions probably, and that usually meant a lot of uncomfortable questions coming his way.

God help him.

Yet, he sighed and walked in, preferring to face his fate right away and go about his day as soon as possible.

“What did I do?”

“Jarvis, if you could, please,” Tony requested with a solemn expression, one of his thin holographic devices lighting up on the counter and instantly projecting several floating images as Steve walked closer.

Steve’s lips parted in surprise, shocked ‘oh’ escaping them as his heart was sent into frenzy.

Twenty images in total, photos of a blond man of Steve’s own body-built, clad in sportswear posing in every single one of them. His face was familiar too and yet somehow foreign; surely these couldn’t be real. There was no way Steve looked so confident and almost proud in some pictures, but mainly, appearing so comfortable in his skin.

Steve’s mind raced as he tried to associate the model with his own person and yet—he couldn’t but feel rather satisfied. Because this was most definitely him. And the photos were… well, not bad at all. Simultaneously, while his chest puffed with pride he desperately attempted not to let go into his head, he remembered precisely how these photos came to existence and who should totally take the credit here.

“That’s all you gonna say?! Oh?” Tony demanded, gesturing around the holograms as if these were corpus delicti of a serious offence and Steve was once again reminded of what Tony Stark was not; a patient man.

Steve felt a smile creep onto his lips as he shrugged.

“Oh, he says. You’re asking me what did you do?! THIS! If I knew you were a damn runaway model, I would have expected less fun than I did when imaging seeing you squirm! Look at this! These are way too good!”

Steve couldn’t disagree, mildly amused at Tony’s antics. In fact, he really was ridiculously content with the results of something he had dreaded and couldn’t have even hoped to turn out like this.

“…is that a bad thing?” he couldn’t but mock, earning an exasperated huff… and a smirk.

“Well… not, I guess. My little black heart is just… disappointed.”

Ah, yes. The heavily guarded secret – Tony Stark did have a heart and contrary to popular opinion, it was not little or black.

“No, it’s not.”

“Hush!” Tony shushed him, a twinkle appearing in his eye, amusement mixing with satisfaction. “But seriously. What the hell? Since when do you… pose? Like this? Like… wow.”

“Careful there, Stark, you’ll make him blush,” Natasha hummed as she entered the communal kitchen, checking out the flowing pictures with interest and a curve to her lips. “These are pretty great. You did well, Rogers.”

And all of sudden, Steve couldn’t handle the praise anymore; it had been fun with Tony, but now when Natasha joined in, swiftly followed by a wolf-whistle from Sam at her heels… it felt wrong to brag about this, it wasn’t fair – he wasn’t the one who deserved to be given the majority of the merit.

“It’s… it wasn’t me, really…“ he admitted sheepishly.

And it wasn’t. It was all you.

Looking at the photos, he could tell what you were talking about when you pressed the shutter release for every single one of them. Painting the vivid image of the ocean just with your words. Calling him a hero in a way no one ever had. Pleading him to be proud of what he had accomplished. Making him feel those things, causing him to gradually gain confidence, feeling good in his own skin even when being at the centre of attention, encouraging him to suggest a pose on his own. Hell, Steve might go as far as to say that he had been having fun.

But it was all you.

“Looks a lot like you, man,” Sam chuckled and Steve would have shot him an annoyed glare hadn’t he been so embarrassed and self-conscious to admit who was to blame for the pictures turning out so great.

Because… yeah, Steve wasn’t vain or tried not to be, but these were pretty swell. You were a magician, you had to be. And he had fallen straight into the trap of your charms.

“Har har… the photographer was amazing. She made me feel-” He didn’t even know how to describe it without making himself look like a complete fool… for you. “-great. She was really supportive the whole time, sometimes even making me forget she was taking shots.”

“Alert!” Tony cried out all of sudden, nearly causing Steve to jump out of his skin. “I sense romance! How’s Cap heart, Jarvis? Has the security been breached? Should we run some scans-”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve huffed in irritation, attempting to hide how precisely the billionaire hit the nail on its head.

“Awww, now he is blushing,” Natasha teased and Steve felt the heat in his cheeks burn.

“Well, luckily for him, there was a business card along with the printed photos that arrived this morning.”

Steve’s head immediately snapped Tony’s direction, curious and excited. You left a business card? That was—it probably didn’t mean anything along the lines he wished, but still!

The billionaire held out the simple creamy-coloured item between two fingers, but quickly snatched it away when Steve reached for it. Steve shot him a murderous glare. Dammit man-child!

“Full story or you’re not getting any, pun intended.”

“Oh, go to hell, Stark-”

“Come on, Stark. We all know he has some work ethics unlike you. Let him start a thing before you interrogate him. Plus, if he’s got a phone number from a hot girl for the free work he did, good for him. Give him the card,” Natasha supported the poor blond and Tony rolled his eyes before shooting the Widow a look of betrayal. Sam just chuckled at their antics. Steve snatched the card before they could change their mind, while Natasha smiled behind her cup. “We expect a full report later though.”

She exchanged a high-five with Sam under the bar, but Steve was too busy examining the card and having his heart beating incredibly fast to feel exasperated at his childish friends.

As he flipped the card in his fingers, he felt a wide smile spread his lips at their own accord.

If you ever need another photoshoot or anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. xxx

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

S.R. masterlist

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

Link to the inspiration post will be in reblog!

What can I say to my defence? I just really like making Steve happy, okay?

And yeah, the 2016 FILA is perfect too, but this fic is a result of a suggestion of a friend and babyface CE is more Steve, what can I say…

196 notes · View notes

rrandomtthings · 3 years

Text

“Toxicity” in the BNHA fandom

[i know I tagged ships, but that’s because the ships were mentioned. This post does NOT degrade any ships that were tagged.]

So, I was heavily inspired by a post I recently saw where someone was talking about the toxicity in fandoms (specifically bnha). I agreed with the first half of their post until they decided to bash ships and become that toxicity. Rather than arguing with them on their own post I wanted to make my own post in respect to that persons opinion.

My Hero Academia is known as the most recent “toxic anime fandom.” While, of course, it has its people, many take that opinion way too far.

Warning: manga spoilers!! (Specifically ch. 285)

Why do people think that the fandom is toxic?

Let’s start off at the obvious answer, people don’t like the shipping in the fandom.

Of course, shipping isn’t for everyone and that’s completely fine!! But you would be completely ignorant to ignore that fact that shipping is apart of every. single. fandom. Not only the My hero.

The only reason why the BNHA fandom has so much shipping is because of the amount of characters there are in the show. And the lack of development some have compared to others. Claiming that people are weird for shipping the “weird ships” (I.e. gay shipping) but think it’s completely fine to ship straight pairings is completely homophobic. Don’t deny that.

People can ship whatever the fuck they want. Shipping is apart of every fandom. Why is it different in the bnha?

Another thing that angers me is when I hear people say “people in the mha fandom ship deku x nomu or deku x all might!1!!1” like,, no?? Wtf?? I’m IN the fandom and I have NEVER seen anyone ship those. Stop taking a ship one person may ship and generalize it towards everyone in the fandom. Because I can guarantee you, the average reader/watcher does not ship those pairings listed. Stop. Generalizing.

Another reason that people believe that the fandom is toxic is because of the ship wars that are definetly there. Whether you prefer Kiribaku v Bakudeku. Or Izuocha v Togachako (both of which have some sort of canonical crush interest. Stop being ignorant towards Togas canonical crush on Ochako!!) there are ship wars that exist, as they do in ever fandom!!

The biggest problem within those ship wars is the ignorance on every single side. As a multishipper, there are definitely shipping sides of the fandom that I prefer over the other. But, you can’t deny the toxic shippers on every side. Stop being ignorant and look at how people view your favorite ship BECAUSE of how people ship it.

This next point kind of drifts off a little bit, but it’s still important to recognize the stigma behind “bkdk being abusive/toxic.” If that’s what you personally believe, that is completely fine. Everyone is valid to their own opinion. But DO NOT push that agenda onto everyone or anyone. Especially if they are a new watcher/reader. Especially if you have not read the manga. I do not know how much I have to emphasize that. If you have not read the manga, do not give your opinion on bkdk. You’re just spreading unnecessary toxic information. We know that, in the manga, the two are mending their bond, even going as far as bkg SACRAFICING himself for Deku. Do not deny canon just bc you prefer another ship.

To go along with the “bakudeku (or even Kacchako) is toxic/abusive” opinion that was just stated, do not say that if you’re only saying that to further validate your Bkg ship. If he’s abusive/toxic in one ship, why isn’t he in any other?? At the end of the day, for the most part, he treats everyone at UA the same. Stop denying that. Stop picking and choosing. If you’re gonna insinuate that he is toxic, then he is toxic with everyone. Stop. being. ignorant.

Shipping aside, remember that not everyone has to like your favorite character. Personally, my favorite is Deku. It is more than obvious that Deku is not everyone’s favorite. That’s completely fine though!! As much as it does suck to see so much Deku hate, as long as it has a valid reason from CANON, then I respect that opinion. But don’t be surprised if people debunk your opinion if it’s because of shipping or bc the reasoning is really dumb (I.e. “deku is a crybaby!1!1!.” etc)

Another thing people do is go onto other people’s shipping posts or character posts and say “that’s cute but___ is better.” Or that’s cute but I don’t ship it.” Huh??? No one asked?? Stop it. Either leave a comment ABOUT the post and the post only or just like it and keep going.

It’s important to talk about fake rumors that are created in the fandom and how people take them to heart. Most recently, there was the rumor that Horikoshi cried while creating ch. 298. While that is of course harmless, it’s still important that we stop spreading those types of rumors. Another very popular rumor is that “Horikoshi said that he’s gonna make ____ ship canon!1!” Horikoshi has never talked about any ship in any interview. This has been debunked many times. Stop spreading the false narrative.

One of the biggest things I wanna address is the people who harass Horikoshi, which is absolutely terrible and is something that needs to stop. This is HIS story, not yours. Stop with the petitions, stop with the harassment.

However, its so important to recognize that this happens in every fandom. This is not only a My Hero thing. In every single fandom, there are shippers. There are ship wars. There are people who don’t like your favorite character. There are (sadly) people who threaten the creator. Stop saying BNHA is the only one. Because compared to other fandoms (I.e. Voltron who sent cupcakes with glass to the team) we are relatively calm. The BNHA fandom isn’t as toxic as many people think, so stop being ignorant and spread the false narrative because the only people who say that it’s toxic are the people who 1) stepped foot into the fandom for .5 seconds 2) hate the show. If it’s not your thing, then just ignore. Honestly, those who hate on the fandom are more toxic than those who are in it.

#bnha #mha #bnha meta #my hero academia #bakudeku #kiribaku #kacchako #togachako #bakugou Katsuki #deku #bnha 285 #jeez I haven’t written a meta in months #pls don’t let this flop this took me an hour and a half fjsiovosicj #long post

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

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i really thought hange was non-binary bc the one who said hanges gender was up for interpretation was kodansha us but isayama asked for gender neutral pronouns right?

here!

I’m gonna answer all of the gender asks in one go because for one, I don’t think I wanna flood my own feed and my own tumblr with the same arguments.

I think a lot of the questions on Hange’s gender and the topic of gender and sexuality overall are kinda intertwined and I feel like for anyone who actually reads my stuff, it’s better understood as one big wall of text.

So I was wondering, is that song the absolute proof about hange's gender?

No. I think the interpretation of the song which people are using to prove that Hange’s nonbinary is very western centric. I actually did research around this song and knowing what I know about Japanese culture, I actually interpret the song as a way for Japanese people to break out from gender norms.

For people who are not aware, Japan is incredibly strict with gender norms. The LGBTQ community is not as progressive as it is in Western countries (I mean gay marriage isn’t completely legalized yet). And just looking at it from the stand point of gender roles and gender expectations, despite the progressive thinking, there are a lot of things Japanese men and women have to conform to just to be respected in everyday society. Because in Japan, the community has always been more important than the individual and it’s honestly the same for most asian countries as well.

A lot of the pressure of living in Japan, working with Japanese people is the pressure to conform and I’ve seen my friends do it through small things like getting bangs (because all Japanese women have bangs apparently), wearing make up when going out (because this is generally an accepted for all Japanese people) and always dressing your best because in that manner women are held to an incredibly high standard in Japan. And this goes similarly for men who are constantly pressured to be the breadwinner in the family. If your wife is making more than you, be ready to hear people talk. I know these expectations exist in a Western setting too but Japan is incredibly stiff as a society and this is one reason why, despite having numerous opportunities to moveto Japan myself, I am not at all entertaining that possibility. I have worked in a Japanese company and I hated it and moved to a western company right after six months. I have completely accepted the fact that there is no mobility career wise from a non-Japanese (and a woman at that) in Japanese society.

In conformity, hierarchies etc, Japan is its own monster. That’s why when songs like Jibunrashiku, Hitchcock (by Yorushika) or Shisoukan (by Yorushika) come out, for one it’s in Japanese so I wouldn’t approach the songs from an English and as a Japanese speaker and someone who is pretty familiar with Japanese culture, I can’t help interpret that song as a social commentary for the shitty parts of Japanese society and how they tend to shoot the concept of an ‘individual’ down.

But does that mean I completely shoot down the idea that Hange is NB?

NO. Yams said so himself, Hange’s gender is unknown. But at the same time, Yams recognizes the fact that in the anime and in the live action, Hange is a female. If Yams were that adamant to make Hange NB, I think he would have at least made more of an effort to police how she is depicted in the anime and in the live action.

His exact words were:　「ハンジは彼（彼女）みたいな、ちょっと浮世離れした、枠にとらわれない自由な感じで描きたかったんです。」If I roughly translated it to English, “I wanted to draw Hange as someone otherworldly, free from the confines of gender.”

Tbh, I wanted to avoid these gender asks altogether but I’ve seen the environment in twitter and the ways many people approach gender, particularly ‘nonbinary’ or genderfluid and it really just doesn’t sit well with me. For one, what’s up with all these rules on how to approach our nonbinary and LGBTQ friends? What’s up with all these accusations that if we don’t follow them to a T, then we’re suddenly transphobic or homophobic?

The fact that we’re creating all these rules on how to go about her nonbinary gender for one, just defeats the whole purpose of Hange being a free bird in the first place who wouldn’t have cared and who wouldnt’ ever have been confined to gender in the first place.

I mean the establishment of set rules and social norms on how to navigate gender, sex, sexuality and gender roles is the reason why we had heternormativity in the first place. And what I can see, yes, we did get progressive, we did start recognizing other genders, other ways of thinking but the danger in all this is that, we’re once again creating frameworks and norms about how people that identify as these genders are supposed to act. And this defeats the whole purpose of why we recognized concepts of other sexualities, other genders and breaks from gender roles in the first place.

We wanted to show these people that their feelings are valid, that the way they’re navigating their relationships and their identities are valid and the heternormative society we’ve lived in that has been condemning for so long, was flawed, was wrong.

But the thing is, with the establishment of all these social norms on how to navigate our relationships with LGBTQ people and how to navigate our own gender, sexuality, sex and role is just making us regress back to that shitty heteronormative society of a hundred years ago. Because suddenly, everyone is questioning once again ‘How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m nb?” “How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m trans?” “How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m LGBT?”

And we’re creating these abstract ideas of how exactly, being genderfluid is supposed to feel like. Am I really supposed to be going by ‘they?’ Am I supposed to be uncomfortable with CIS pronouns?

And If I don’t go through this process… If I don’t feel this way then maybe I’m not NB? Maybe I’m not Trans? Maybe I’m not LGBT? And if I don’t conform to this clear cut idea of what NB is which people set up for me, god forbid I might just be transphobic or homophobic.

And Here’s the thing, everyone’s journey to self discovery is unique and there is no exact way to go about your gender or identity. I find it terrifying actually that creating all these clear cut rules have built misconceptions in so many people already on what they are supposed to feel like when they decide to identify with a certain gender which is no different from long ago when people had to hide the fact that they liked people of the same gender because god forbid they might just be persecuted for being gay.

Creating these frameworks, these incredibly strict rules on how someone is supposed to navigate relationships with LGBTs and their own personal identities is only making it all the more dangerous for people who are in the process of discovering themselves.

Back in college, I used to accompany a friend to a clinic when he was starting HRT treatments and before he started them, he had to consult with a doctor and the consultation lasted months. Before all that, they gave him a checklist of ‘feelings,’ which if he does experience them, he checks it and if he does check enough of them and agrees with a huge chunk of them, then he might have gender dysphoria and maybe the HRT treatments and sex reassignment was for him. It was a hundred item checklist, pages full of waivers, warnings and questions about his own experiences with his gender identity. And the fact that he had to consult for months after on that? There must be a reason.

Maybe because the academe realizes, maybe because those adept on the field on gender realize that gender is too complex of a subject to have been boxed into these categories in the first place.

And this whole discourse or I wouldn’t say discourse more of like, this ‘pushing of agendas’ as to say, ‘this is how being gender fluid or non binary is supposed to feel like’ this is how being transgender is supposed to feel like and if you don’t fit it to a T then you’re not transgender or you’re not nb. Or if you don’t fit it all, maybe you’re just transphobic is dangerous for many reasons. Either it gatekeeps people who want to explore their gender further. Or it forces people to have to conform to these and force themselves to ‘feel’ all of these things in the first place.

And god, this is just the gender issue, I haven’t even explored the sexuality, gender roles or biological issue.

i mean pronouns are important but they don’t really reflect someone’s gender??? like there’s people who use he/they, she/they or all pronouns(? they just don’t conform to gender binary ahaha

Given the environment on twitter and having witnessed the bullying first hand that came with one writer who is active on twitter using she/her pronouns for Hange, I feel like my own writing and my own POV on how I go about my writing and how I approach the gender of Hange (since I strictly use she/her) might just be a ticking time bomb and I might find myself at the end of whatever hate war or ‘education’ or as I like to just refer to as bullying, one day.

I believe though I at least have enough knowledge and awareness of the LGBTQ situation and I think I did put a lot of thought already into this before I made my decision to use ‘she’ to refer to Hange.

(And tbh, you can be nonbinary and you can be female at the same time and I’ve written about that multiple times already BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME CATEGORY. And creating this mutual exclusivity between being nonbinary and female just kinda invalidates a lot of those people who are still deciding where exactly they fall in this complex web of identity discovery)

As someone who generally mainly hangs out with LGBT people and i have been doing this since high school by the way, and as someone who has tried all the sexualities on the spectrum, I talked to my asexual friends about possibly being asexual, I have experimented with women and sometimes, I just had dry spells and it just so happened that in the end of all these, I fell in love with a guy but I really believe that gender is such a flexible thing and even though I am with aguy right now, I still simp over lesbians, gays, ciswomen, transgenders because simping isn’t about gender.

And these set of rules on how to navigate genders is just invalidating the experiences of people who are flitting in between the two identities and it just hinders the process of self discovery for a lot of people.

Anyway, the point is, there is only one statement I found fundamental when approaching my relationships with the LGBT community and my own perspective on my self identity.

Recognition of someone’s feelings and their journey to a gender identity and the pronouns that come with it are important.

Then someone might go “THEN WHY DON’T YOU RESPECT HANGE’s NON BINARY PRONOUNS. Because just because someone is nonbinary doesn’t mean they automatically go for they. Just because someone is non-binary, doesn’t mean I have to use every single pronoun on the spectrum. The only one who can tell me what pronouns they want used on them is the person in question.

(I actually read an argument somewhere that going for ‘they’ just because someone is NB is transphobic lmfao. Assuming someone’s pronouns is apparently transphobic too lmfao.)

AND HANGE IS FICTIONAL. And we will never hear about which pronoun she would have wanted in the first place and I think the great ‘nontransphobic’ in-between is just letting people interpret characters how they want to interpret characters in this fictional world (And Hange can be both interpreted as nb and female). It’s the policing which makes the whole process of self discovery, the process of navigating genders all the more difficult for a lot of people.

And policing how exactly people should navigate gender and sexuality is just gatekeeping. Hange is everyone’s character. The only gender and sexuality identity people have complete jurisdiction on, is their own. And this policing of what exactly certain journeys to discovery are supposed to feel like is inherently harmful for those who are still in the process of deciding for themselves where they stand.

And going back to what Yams said “I wanted to draw Hange as someone otherworldly, free from the confines of gender/sexuality/gender roles.” I agree with that.

Because even though I do use ‘she’ with Hange, I do not firmly believe that Hange is a cisgender heterosexual female either. I just believe there are so many more layers to her whole identity and I believe similarly for every single person. Just concluding for one’s self that Hange is nonbinary with a very narrow minded view of what non binary just generally defeats the whole purpose of being ‘free from the confines of gender’ and hinders a lot of discourse and analysis on Hange’s identity over all.

I mean, I don’t know if people agree with this but in the decades I have spent with my close friends figuring out their gender identities, changing pronouns, transitioning, coming out to their parents, here is one thing I noticed. They weren’t asking for a celebration of their gender or sexuality, they weren’t asking for all these policing on how people should approach them. All they wanted was for their feelings to be validated, normalized as an everyday occurrence. I think the point of all these LGBTQ discourse (and by extension race and sex discourse) were all there to just make all these different identities normalized and to completely eradicate the concept of a negative bias or an other which was generally plaguing society for a long time.

And as their friends, I have never approached them as this champion who would make sure EVERYONE RESPECTED THEM IN THAT WAY IN TWITTER THEY BELIEVE LGBTQ PEOPLE SHOULD BE RESPECTED. All these nonverbal rules I have set up for myself on how to go about being friends with them is because I wanted them to be happy and comfortable in their shoes. And what were the types of things they appreciated? Me hiding it from their parents until they were ready to come out, me helping make their relationship work with their partner, me respecting the pronouns they requested for themselves, me accompanying them to HRT when their parents refused.

And you know what, that was only a facet of our friendships. My friends’ gender identities and sexualities never dominated discourse. None of them were the ‘token gay friend,’ the ‘token lesbian friend’ or the ‘token asexual friend’ or the ‘token NB friend.’ They were all people I genuinely care about who just happened to have fallen in love with someone of the same gender. They were just people who just happened to be uncomfortable with their original sex. But I would never just describe them as just that. My friend who just so happens to identify as assexual makes a great companion on a night out drinking. My friend who just so happens to be trasngender is really great with logistics and planning and was super helpful and I was eternally grateful when we worked together on that one project. My friend who just happens to be a lesbian has the cutest picture of her girlfreind on her phone screen.

I will memorize their favorite orders, what makes them tick, what makes them such a great companion, their talents, capabilities more than I will remember their gender. And that’s the characetr song in question is called “Jibunrashiku” or in English “just like me.” Because in the end a strict society which creates all these maxims of what exactly people of a certain gender should act would of course birth songs like “Just like me” A society which puts so much emphasis on gender and sex as an identity instead of other things like personality, preferences, skills etc.

And I don’t know if it applies to everyone. But my friends appreciate it because this journey to whatever gender identity they chose wasn’t rooted in some sort of strict framework on how they should be treated according to twitter. It was rooted in their own experiences and how these experiences made them feel.

Do they feel weird in a woman’s body? Do they just don’t feel any romantic attraction to the opposite gender?

Just treat them as how you would treat anyone else you respect. Just be a decent person. Just be a good friend.

Respect their requests for their own personal pronouns. If they need help, help them to the best of your abilities.

And here’s the thing, the approach I use with navigating identities, sexuaities genders are rooted in one very simple concept which can be applied to the race discourse, the feminist discourse etc etc.

Don’t be an ass. Respect people. Don’t reduce people to one facet of their identity. And by extension, when faced with such a dubious situation, think, discern for yourself what’s right or wrong. When there are people educating you, policing you on what is right or wrong, process that information objectively.

All I have here right now is my own opinions on the gender discourse on Hange and my own opinions on the discourse overall.

If you don’t agree with it, then have a nice day and I hope you find something else that will convince you to be more openminded but...

UTANG NA LOOB HUWAG LANG KAYO MAMBULLY NG TAO POTA. MAGHANAP NALANG KAYO NG IBANG PWEDENG GAWIN SA BUHAY MO.

ANG DAMING NASASAKTAN ANG DAMING NATRATRAUMA ANG DAMING NAWAWALANG GANA MAGSULAT KASI DI KAYO NAG-IISIP. PURO TIRA LANG.

Okay thank you for listening. Do what you want with the information up there but I have said my piece.

#hange zoe #hanji zoe #commander hange #commander hanji #meta

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