#But aside from giving gender she is hot as a sun

[legeebeeteequah]

I still can't decide if Rhys is ugly, hot as fuck, attractive bc of Stede or just plain normal

Maybe it's because he and his character both give so much gender

I think is that, is the gender

I'm into gender

(does this even make sense?)

[reikissu]

Baji Keisuke dating headcanons.

a/n: a new dating hcs for baji, since my last ones were ooc as hell 😟 (mikey, draken, mitsuya, pahchin, kazutora)

genre: fluff, a bit of comedy

reader: gender neutral

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence and injuries

baji’s an odd one, despite him being an infamous delinquent and being held back a year, he’s the sweetest boy ever.

he’d call you baby, dumbass or babe, it depends on different days.

he’ll do anything for you, even if it meant killing someone. need help with something? alright, he’s up for the job, but if it involves homework, he’ll try his best. you hate someone with a burning passion? he’ll beat the living hell out of them for you.

he sometimes gets into fights on purpose so you’ll take care of him, you’ll hear a stone hitting your bedroom window and you’ll see your beaten up boyfriend with a shit eating grin outside your house.

“babyyy! treat my wounds please!” “you got into another fight? oh my god. 😠” “hehe.” “don’t hehe me, keisuke! whatever.. get in here.”

his mother adores you, she’s very happy for you and keisuke. she’s proud of her son because you always tell her how well he treats you, she now knows her son will be a good husband. ryoko would give you food as thanks for making keisuke happier, she’d also always ask him about you.

“how’s y/n?” “huh? oh, they’re doing good.” “oh okay, when will they stay over again?” “hmmm.. not sure, i’ll ask them tomorrow.”

there’s times where he’s in a bad mood, he gets the urge to punch someone or burn cars, but he then remembered that you told him not to. so he just pays you a visit whenever he feels cranky.

his type of dates would be after school or at night, after school you both would go to his favorite café and eat while telling each other what happened in your day, at night he would take you out on a ride or bring you to a night market.

he dreams big, and he works hard to make sure he’ll be able to achieve that life with you. a life with you where you both are newlyweds, living in an apartment without a single worry, having cats and cute kids. it makes him blush when he thinks about it.

if you’re a hardworker who never takes a break, he’ll drag your ass out. “Huh? Kei, where are we going?” “We’re going to that place you like so much.” “Why? I was doing something you know!” “Dumbass, it’s been days since you haven’t left your room, i don’t wanna open the door and see you dead on the floor.”

he would give you small things as his way of showing you his love aside from kisses and hugs. like your favorite snacks, keychains of your favorite flower or animal, and jewelry he can afford.

you both would have matching phone charms and rings, the phone charms would be cats and the rings would be sun and moon themed. he never takes off his ring, even if he was in a fight or if he was taking a bath.

he would proudly introduce you to mikey and the others, he doesn’t care if it’s embarrassing, he wants to show you off.

“Meet Y/N, they’re my lover.” “Wait, what?!” “Woah, you got yourself a saint if they can handle how much of an asshole you are.” “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” “Man, i never thought you’d be able to get a lover!” “They’re hot.” “HA?!” and everyone else has to hold baji back from beating kazutora up.

he gets jealous, even of kids. one time, a little boy came up to you and told you that he wants to marry you one day, you just said thank you and laughed it off… while keisuke, was glaring down at the kid and was like “😠… Hm.”

he would introduce you to every cat he owns. “This one’s Yuko, this one here is Peyoung, and this one, my favorite is named Y/N Jr.” “You seriously named a cat after me?” “Duh, you should’ve expected that from me.”

he’d always crave for your warmth, even at school. whenever you two are alone in a place at school, he’d hug you, if you two are staying over at his place or your place, he’d cuddle you. his arms around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck as he takes in your scent.

if you have younger siblings or pets, he’d gladly take care of them if you are busy or anything. he’d be the type to get along well with your parents too.

he would smell like Versace Eros, he would probably have that as his perfume because one of his rich relatives gave him that as a birthday present. so it makes you giddy inside whenever you hug him.

he isn’t very talkative and nice to other students except you, if they’d try flirting with him he’d immediately tell them you’re his lover. you are the only exception to him, no one else can play with his hair, touch his body, or even try to fix his necktie and fake glasses.

rando: “Ah, Baji-kun, your collar’s wrinkled.” he’d swat their hand away if they even try to touch his clothes, “Don’t touch me, i can fix it myself.” but if it’s you, it’s an automatic yes.

baji would ask help from you if he was having hard time with some topics in some subjects, and he’d feel bad for bothering you. but you always assure him it’s fine for him to ask for help. that’s why his test scores went up, all thanks to everything you taught him.

in short, he’s the type to improve his flaws, to study hard, to be more careful with his attitude, all for you. he’s willing to do everything, even if it has risks of death. his heart only belongs to you.

© reikissu do not repost/steal any of my works and repost it on other platform/s. I do not own the characters i write for at all, reblogs are appreciated though ♡

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Planes, Trains, and Oddmobiles" Episode Followup, Part 1

Can you believe it took them 10 years to make this punny title? I can't either! But it's here now, and I'm all for it.

This time it's "Planes, Trains, and Oddmobiles", oh my! Let's send another prayer for a good episode below the break.

Now you know my mind is warped when I look at this and my first thought is "weird graveyard with three tombstones".

*low groan that ekes into a mournful glass-shattering scream*

I don't think I need to elaborate on how this episode will go.

O...kay. I don't think we've ever had any staff credit on the right of the episode before, and I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's because the beakers are in-frame on the left, but...they're not relevant, so...

these were abandoned eggs

mama wants them back

Either the Huggle Monster has some incredibly corrupted child-rearing habits, or this was purely accidental.

I know for a damn fact they will not elaborate, so theorize away, folks.

If I had a nickel for every Scientist who was proficient in sewing as a way to defy gender norms, I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't a lot, but it's fuck-all insane that it's happened twice now.

Guy's fittin' t' blow a lung if he keeps doin' that.

They tell him to hurry with the tone of "we're gonna get shat on" but without the urgency of "OH FUCK SHE'S GONNA EAT US".

See, but the funny thing is that they are in a desolate area with three rocks that look like tombstones and y'know if I try hard enough they might be symbo-

Remember when entering the tubes had simple rules? Like "don't eat while riding" and "turn off all your electronics"?

Yeah, Omar's giving a "fuck you and your grandma" to that shit and bringing up a manual that has never been mentioned before. (There was Tube Safety and You from "The O Games", but that was about positioning yourself on the ride through. This is not that book.)

And it's so unbelievably stupid because, even in spite of the episode's name, you're telling me we can't get an 11-minute episode where it's Onom in the tubes? We got an 11-minute episode about the tubes in Season 1, GTFOH!

"I'm sure the Odd Squad Airline would love to help!"

I was going to make a comment on how fucking gobsmacked I was and how silly this was, but then I realized that Odd Squad is a pseudo-government organization and so of course they would have their own goddamn airline with their own goddamn private planes.

...Huh. I wonder if that's why the Task Force Department had a plane in "Overdue"?

OH F-FYACK OH GOD IT'S A HUMANIZED AIRPLANE OFUCKGEE.

Thank God they fixed the audio mixing here because otherwise my level of "I'm disturbed" would be extremely high from the plehn zoom sound alone.

Ohhhh...so this is Agent Ockpit. Honestly, I had expected her to turn up in another episode. Not in...whatever this hot mess is becoming.

That aside, though...Odd Air? Spelled like that or OddAir? I mean even putting aside that there's a fucking Plane department (actual Flight department?)...I'm more keen on spelling it out fully.

"...and the suitcase is made from my special weightless material."

Can't be too weightless if it's still abiding by the laws of the planet's gravity, Onom. That's what we call a skill issue.

"I'm sorry, but each suitcase can't weigh more than 5 pounds."

Checking...weight limits are in double digits...so this is soME HORSESHIT-

Okay, this shit made me cackle just for how I wasn't expecting Ockpit to tell him his flight is leaving in one minute.

Plehn I have not been on at all, but you'd think she'd tell him when the flight is leaving when he tried to book it. Basic common sense.

Ohhhh, so this is from the POV of the Huggle Monster. Yeah, that- that makes sense. Mmm two pieces of candy and a weird box thing.

They have books for everything under the sun that Twilight Sparkle would be jealous of, Jesus Christ.

Oh God...either this could go like in "Trials and Tubulations" or this could go like in "When Seren Cringes So Hard Her Organs Fold Into Themselves".

Aaaaand it's a vote for the latter!

The catch, of course, is that Asha Soetan is actually a professional dancer outside of Odd Squad. Isaac Kragten and Glee Dango got to show off their chops, so what's the director's excuse for her?

"Here comes the robot dance."

Somewhere, Oswald is seething by way of "SHE'S DANCING NORMALLY!!"

"One day, my robot dance will save us. Just like in "Oswald in the Machine" where-"

"Is now really the time to be bringing up past episodes?!"

"Right, right. My bad."

I'll admit, this episode hasn't made me laugh much so far...but Orli's becoming a strong contender for the comedy award for this round.

Ahhh, there it is. The "we're gonna get eaten" bit. That's the bitch. That's what I was hopin' for!

Either OddAir has some hella good leg room in a way not seen since the late 20th century, or this plane is hella crowded because they don't put all the suitcases up above the seats and under the plane and all that.

Also, dude got a seat where the row looks to be entirely empty. And plehn I have not been on, but that just barely seems possible.

(I'm choosing to ignore that we're getting another sleeping agent because at this point Omar is a man who needs a doctor and the law a sleep study.)

Even he's quoting the contrived-ass manual? GTFOH.

Oh. Yes. What I most want in my kids franchise about children in suits fighting oddness.

A POSSIBILITY OF FUCKING PLANE CRASHES.

Y'know, at least when Oprah's office had oxygen masks to breathe in, it was funny. Whether there will be a crash or not, this just made that age like milk left in the heat for three hours.

"So I'm afraid we'll be landing early, and hiding under our beds."

Ohhhh pilot, sweet summer child, if only you knew.

America has screaming children, people asking others to give up their seats for their children, and the most PR statements to ever PR when something goes wrong with no reimbursements.

The UK gives you free rail tickets if something goes wrong with your flight.

God Save Good Flying.

All right, I'm starting to see why that girl in the back looks like Olive.

One can dream...but it's not Olive.

(On to Part 2!)

[desertfangs]

That breakup scene is a hot mess and I’m both glad and sad we didn’t get a full version of it. However, I love how Anne had Armand be all tender and sweet (“I didn’t meant to leave you”, and the kisses 😭) while Daniel, almost completely lost in his madness further broke his heart into a million pieces.

YES! I agree. It has a lot of potential as outlined in her notes but also I'm not sure I would have wanted it that way in canon? I will say, it's always felt true to me that Armand feared Daniel leaving him and therefore it became a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy where Armand slowly shuts down and pushes Daniel away because he expects him to leave and Daniel is left flailing and confused because he doesn't know why Armand has gone cold.

In that respect, Anne's strange gender analogy makes sense. (Please understand, I do find it cringey in a very Anne way that is just... you know, Anne. This is also the woman who wrote that abortions make a woman's womb weak so...yeah. 😐 She was not a perfect person. And I personally have several friends who married people when they believed them to be men, only to afterward learn they were women, and they are closer than ever now that their partner can be themselves! Trans Rights, motherfucker. Terfs can all take a long walk off a short pier.)

But in terms of Daniel seeing Armand giving him the blood as a sort of marriage--they can be together for eternity now! They can go to the stars together!--and then Armand suddenly shutting down soon after, I can see Daniel interpreting that as him not measuring up and not being what Armand wanted. Armand loved him a mortal and now that he's a vampire, Armand is not reacting to him the same way. It had to be confusing as heck for him, not to mention utterly devastating.

That aside, it feels like from these notes Daniel is hurt that Armand tried to go into the sun in addition to anything that happened prior. (Reading it again, it seems that 'you left us!' is in fact referring to Armand's suicide attempt. 😭😭)

And like I said in my other post about this, I've wanted a scene with Armand and Daniel after Daniel went mad since B&G came out. Not to mention any acknowledgement that Daniel was aware of what happened, that Daniel was not off by himself the whole time, and that he had feelings about it. (His total absence, like his absence from BC2 is excruciating if only because it makes no sense for him to not be around anywhere, you know?)

This is the kind of confrontation we needed! Daniel being furious and Armand trying to be gentle with him, kissing him, wanting things to be better. 😭😭 There are seeds of such a good scene in these notes, and I'm sad we didn't get anything like that in the books at all, while I'm also aware that if we had, we may not have been happy with it. I think this sort of scene is good if it's resolved at some point, if we got to see them coming back together in a detailed, meaningful way, and I just don't know we would have. She could barely string a sentence about the two of them together in the final books, and while she did it, and clearly thought they would reconcile and reunite, she didn't seem to have much interest in that side of things.

ANYHOW I am sorry for turning this into such a long post, that single page of Anne's notes has had me spinning all day long. There's so much to unpack. I do love the tenderness Armand shows with Daniel when he's not well and if anyone ever writes a fic about that, please tag me, I will read it 200 times.

[bogwitch-art]

B A S I C S

Name: Khorijin Bayaqud

Nicknames: Khor, Khokho, songbird, little bird

Age: 22 (by Dawntrail)

Nameday: 25th Sun of the 6th umbral moon (dec 25th)

Race: Viera (Rava) + Xaela mixed!

Gender: trans/nb (he/him)

Orientation: Ace

Profession: outside of being one of the warriors of light (alongside Meteor and sometimes Jai), Khor has.. many side jobs -- he nurses and is a baker, and does many other things as well (he likes being busy)

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Auburn with white patches, and golden highlights, worn shaggy (wolf style!) with long bangs that hang into his eyes

Eyes: black sclera, pupils a mix of brown and blue, and golden limbal rings

Skin: tanned skin, aside from the pale vitiligo splotches -- he has a smattering of pale scales on his nose and his cheeks, as well

Tattoos/scars: a few scars here and there -- but most especially on his left leg, they run criss crossed and jagged on his thigh (he has tattoos, too but I can never figure out what)

Other: He has feathers! they run along his shoulders and down the tops of his arms, and along his back, ending in a long feathery red-and-gold/white tail, he also has a tuft of fur on his chest, and his legs (and peets!) He has permanent disabilities as well -- his left leg has been broken several times, and hurts to walk on for long, hence his usual use of fore-arm crutches, and sometimes wheelchairs

F A M I L Y

Parents: Many! Khor has many moms and dads, but his birth parents are Shami and a rando Viera gleaner she hooked up with

Siblings: Several, from all his parents. At the moment he lives with his baby brothers -- toddler Miqo'ra kittens called Khaji and Bati. Also has a twin sister he loves/hates. as one does.

Grandparents: Several! His grandma Mide is the shaman of their particular Bayaqud clan

Children: a lot! He has several with his partners -- most of them are toddlers and babies

In-laws and Other: (Haven't thought ahead for his other spouses but their parents are There… somewhat) Jai's mom and dad -- Lhuna Malqir-Kagon (Rivers) and Julian Rivers

Pets: loves animals -- they have something just shy of a farm in the Firmament, with many sheep, and couerls, and dogs and cats and gods know what else. Has a little sheep that constantly follows him around, though (and who he spoils) -- Tsenkher. Khatun of sheep.

S K I L L S

Abilities: Very skilled with weapons of any kind -- Khor can absolutely figure out how to use any weapon if left with it and something to train on. He doesn't much fight with them, though -- Khor prefers healing, though his own form of it (he doesn't have the aether for traditional healing).

Hobbies: Baking! Learning to felt toys, and knit and crochet, loves to bake and cook, decent at whittling!

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: endless empathy and patience, willing to give anyone a chance, warm, comforting, peaceful.

Most Negative Trait: Will give anyone a chance, far too empathetic, far too selfless! (doesn't really care for himself)

L I K E S

Colors: greens and blues, golds

Smells: flowers, freshly cooked food/baked goods, the smell of a fireplace, cinnamon, oranges

Textures: the wool of sheep, the feel of soft fabric, also textured fabric he can stim with, the rough way wood feels beneath his hands

Drinks: coffee! hot chocolate, milky tea, kumis

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Fogweed! it helps keep him calm

Drinks: kumis, socially

Drugs: fogweed, if that counts -- had a more experimental youth, though; he was a curious teenager and would try just about anything

Mount Issuance: Usually just walks -- he has a chocobo he spoils, though!

Been Arrested: Not Yet

Tagged by: @starryscale

Tagging: anyone who reads this!

[beevean]

Let's do this: top 10 most hated NFCV characters counting both shows

As a bonus, if you're willing to: top 10 worst episodes

I think I did a top 5 worst characters for both shows but I can do it again :P

11) Drolta. She doesn't do anything egregious, in fact she's kind of tolerable, but she stole Isaac's drip. And for that, I will forever be salty :) (also yeah I couldn't decide for #10 so I added one, whatcha gonna do about it)

10) Sumi and Taka. Ah yes, these two Japanese people who look identical are most assuredly not related, they are just Japanese! Aside from that, they are the emblem of S3's utter failure: they add nothing of importance except for a gratuituous (and OOC) rape scene that is supposed to send the message "humans suck, trusting is for fools"... that in on itself doesn't change a thing, because Alucard is fine afterwards. But hey, you got your bi rep! Aren't you happy with this show's representation? :)

9) Emmanuel. This guy is just stupid. Just because you lampshade how absurd it is to ally yourself with vampires because you think the Revolution is "godless", it doesn't make it any less absurd. We're still at this level of shallow, childish CHURCH BAD.

8) Sypha. You're not cute when you insult Trevor. Stop it. I remembered her being nicer than she actually was :( during the rewatch she was painful, constantly complaining, defending Alucard from Trevor rather than the other way around (but still ditching him when he needed company because yay adventures!!!), and acting bossily with her bf because that's the only kind of character they can write here. Also she's OP af and that's not fun.

7) Maria. Does she even have a personality beyond stereotypical Twitter communist teen? Good god girl shut up you are nothing more than useless backdrop!

6) Carmilla. In theory, she could be an interesting unapologetic female villain who reacted to her trauma with rage rather than sorrow, a female Dracula but even pettier. In practice, she is the parody of a radfem written by a man with zero respect for women, so you can imagine that she isn't exactly nuanced. I hate that Dracula and his boytoys were made to be absolute dumbasses for her to win, only for her to conclude effectively nothing. villain.exe

5) Alucard. You absolute cunt. Am I supposed to like, or worse being attracted to, this piece of shit who spends his time insulting Trevor and treating him like dog shit under his shoe? He has zero of the effortless charm of the real Alucard, but I'm supposed to root for him because he's hot when he cries all boobily. Fuck off with your disingenous fanservice. (also his design is atrocious and the artstyle doesn't flatter him at all)

4) Erzsébet. Literally an OC made by a 5 yo. Look at her! She's so cool and special! She's older than Dracula, stronger than Dracula, more evil than Dracula, more dangerous than Dracula, and she turns into an invincible Sun Thundercat! Yeah good job, but you forgot to give her a personality.

3) Annette. She is not a character. She is nothing more than accurately engineered discourse bait. I refuse to acknowledge this shallow attempt at "badass representation" that I am supposed to like on the sole basis of her race and gender. I am so tired of Stronk Women that are actually giant assholes, all flash and no substance.

2) Isaac. I will concede that he has the most coherent character arc of all characters, but aside from that, he pisses me off something fierce for how overrated he is. Forgettable design, pretentious as fuck, spouting faux-philosophical quotes to hide how petty he is, basically a jihadist in S3, wakes up one day in S4 and suddenly he's Muslim Jesus, disgustingly OP because the narrative finds every way to suck his shiny dick... and his amazing arc that everyone praises him for, the thing that makes him "better than that stupid gay joker from CoD"? It's just a worse version of Hector's from the mangas, which left him Hector here with no arc to speak of. Get him out of my sight.

1) Lenore. Her concept is great. She is an intriguing foil to both Carmilla and Hector, and incarnates an unique type of villainy: she is amoral, kind for her own selfish purposes, with understandable goals but willing to do anything to achieve them. I want to like her. Too bad she is a disgusting, repulsive, inconsistent, bratty rapist that I am supposed to feel sorry for because oh, she's not so bad after all :) she did everything for Hector's own good :) she's not actually evil :) she deserved to smooch the man she raped into slavery, don't you feel bad that she sunned herself like a selfish coward :) Lenore begs to be rewritten by someone who doesn't jerk off to abusive dommy mommies, but in her canon state, she makes me ill.

Now for the episodes :P

10) The Great Work (S4E7): I never watched it because it's boring as shit, which speaks of the terrible pacing of this show and especially S4. I know it has the infamous "vampires dislike crosses because their vision is fucked up" scene lmao

9) The River (S2E6): It's the episode where the zombie bishop resurrected by a dark necromancer who is now working for a vampire with plans of enslaving mankind is apparently favored by God to the point of being able to bless water. Do I need to say more? Well, it's also the episode where the heroes suddenly remember they are supposed to do shit and hack into Dracula's castle, and the episode that fully cements Dracula as an ineffectual pathetic antagonist easily manipulable by the real villain, no I don't care that he's kinda cool in For Love. (at least the scene with Carmilla avoiding the river and the castle is fun to watch)

8) Bless Your Dead Little Hearts (S3E1): The beginning of Alucard's and Trepha's plotlines, two utter mindnumbing wastes of time, and Hector's plotline, which is the show beating me over the head with a nail bat while screeching "LOOK HOW PATHETIC HECTOR IS! LOOK AT THIS PITIFUL WET CAT! LOOK AT HIM COWERING NAKED IN A CELL EATING MOLDY BREAD! FEEL SORRY FOR HIM!". Just unpleasant for all sorts of reasons.

7) It's Been A Strange Ride (S4E10): Trevor miraculously survives Death! Alucard is happy to live with his new bossy gf as if nothing ever happened! Lenore suns herself just for a final kick in the balls to Hector, whose character will forever be remembered as "useless simp"! And most importantly, Dracula and Lisa get to live again as if the dude didn't just try to exterminate mankind, and they will have endless kinky sex until she dies while Alucard will forever mourn his parents but no one gives a shit about that because we love to piss on the games! :D

6) Old Homes (S2E2): It has the double combo "Alucard being the biggest moistest cunt to Trevor while we're supposed to laugh at this hilarious banter" and "Carmilla girlbossily girlbosses all over Dracula who can't even punish this vampire who insults his wife in front of everyone, establishing herself as the cooler villain"! Joy!

5) The Good Dream (S3E6): "Walkies! :D"

4) Back In The World (S4E5): It's the one with the infamous "Oh, shush, you were having fun" :) and all the Lenore apologism that follows :)

3) You Don't Deserve My Blood (S4E6): I get it. Isaac is Jesus and I should drop to my knees to suck his entire dick. Good thing this is his last appearance. Other than that, this episode is the last nail in the coffin for what was left of Hector's character, who is revealed to have been working to resurrect Dracula (a complete spit in the face to everything he stood for in S2) and also chooses to stay with his rapist instead of seeking true freedom.

2/1) The Harvest (S3E9)/Abandon All Hope (S3E10): It's hard to separate the two, and I wouldn't know which one is worse. The Harvest is infamous for being half boring fight scenes, and half "hot" sex scenes that are actually rape by deception: the entire episode is simply uncomfortable to sit through, not helped by the shoddy editing. Abandon All Hope is the season finally dropping its final message: "the world sucks, and you will be betrayed". Everyone except babyboy Isaac is left traumatized and cynical because we are so fucking edgy, we are just like Berserk fr fr. And, of course, in retrospect, Alucard and Hector's endings piss me off even more as all of their pain was for fucking nothing :)

(Nocturne is completely forgettable and doesn't reach the peaks of NFCV so it deserves its own ranking)

[cryptic-underground]

Red Son - Sitcom AU

Finally able to think about someone other than Sun Wukong or Macaque in this au, props to me!

Humor aside- I've been thinking of nothing but Red boyo so y'all get spur of the moment things about him for sitcom, though I can't promise it to be angst free- enjoy!

Is either high honors or principal's list in terms of grades (somewhere between 85-95 is his average)

He is so stressed all the time, my guy needs to chill

Gives himself his more homework in hopes of becoming better

Puts most of his self worth into getting good grades similarly to how he does in the show with schemes

Rich boy/girl, not necessarily the spoiled kind but definitely was a little entitled at the beginning

Has a curfew

Parents are the type to blow up her phone when their even just a few minutes late to coming home

Mk and Mei add him instantly to a group chat when they first meet

Says it's to communicate about their project without needing to be in first but it's mostly used to send memes, much to Reds dismay

They grow to find comfort in the group chat when she's having trouble with his parents

Gender fluid because ofc

Has a lot of books comprising of many different genres

Textbooks through the years, books they got to use for projects, a lot of ones on mechanics and engineering as well as just general science stuff

Is a big science nerd!

Mostly a big fan of chemistry and physics

Swk is still his uncle like in jttw but the ties between the bull family and wukong are complicated (talk about it in another post since it isn't red related)

Pif and dbk are still not good parents in this(at least until what would s3 of the au), I don't want to completely rewrite them since I want this to be close to lmk canon

I'm just going to have them be a tiny bit different

They are very strict to red and belittles him when he gets even a bit lower grade than expected

Red is very uncomfortable being touched by them like in the show

Mac is also kinda his uncle but they only briefly met when she was really young

Sucks at most art things, when they have to do an art project they tend to do something with mechanics

After she started hanging out with Mei and mk more frequently, and not just for school projects, he would try to find ways to show they were worthy of being their friend

Doing a lot of favors whenever they needed help with something, asking if they needed something fixed, using his allowance to buy them gifts or food as a way to convince em to let her stay

Is a stickler for rules and regulations

Will call someone out if they cheat at monopoly, will have them restart an entire game because someone broke a rule

Comes over to mks house whenever they hang out, the trio rarely go to red's or meis house

Mei and him confide in each other about their strict parents

Is one of the few people in the group to have a fashion sense

They got the pretty genes your honor

Gets acne breakouts from being overly stressed

Has multiple pairs of glasses in her bag incase they forget their usual pair at home

Is the type to go to sleep at seven or eight at night and wake up at like five in the morning

Is solely a tea drinker and refuses to drink coffee

Believed for the longest time that coffee stunts your growth

Has a full skin care routine

Puts hot sauce or something spicy in pretty much everything

Hates most cold foods

Literally heater

High pain tolerance

Very picky and tends to stays to a lot of their safe foods

Has MK and Mei's favorite and least favorite food memorized

Has said foods ready at her house when they're planned to visit

Will comment on how childish a show is, watches ironically to make fun of it in more detail, them finds them self hyper fixating on the show

The one that brings the shopping list to the store

Once mac gets redeemed, is thankful to have another person with a brain cell to converse with

Tutors mk sometimes

Struggles with basic money math but is able to do complex calculus in her sleep

Has given their two friends a scare because they went on a book reading binge and was too hyperfocused to answer their texts for a week

Phone background and home screen remains whatever the default was when he got the phone, doesn't see the importance of changing it

Until Mei stole their phone and changed everything, it was something he liked but still

Has one thing from every hyper fixation she's had in a box in their closet

Even though he's a heater, puts on thicker/warmer clothes at the briefest sign of fall or winter

She needs to set an example for the rest

Sandy's pets love them in the colder months, especially the cats

Owns both the girl's and boy's uniform for his school

Somehow extremely hated and liked at the school

Is far sighted(can see things that are far away) and has astigmatism

Can only sleep when their body is a plank and doesn't move in her sleep

Can cook since he gets left alone at home quite a bit

Is oldest out of the trio

Tw for the next few///

Hits self when frustrated or really angry

Picks at skin until they bleed

Has forgotten to eat or sleep for days because they were trying to perfect a project

[oneprompt]

hOi! Me again with another request XD Can I ask for no. 8 from the love prompt list with Zoro and female reader please? Thank you! ;;w;;

authors note: hello <3 ! here you go , i hope it’s good enough for you , please enjoy <33 + is this an enemies to lover esque one ? kind of ?? oh , the things my brain does on auto pilot... please enjoy , nonetheless ! ++ takes place during enies lobby ? i guess ? idk Why all my dramatic fics end up in that arc ..

Zoro x F! Reader , Prompt ‘ Accidentally Kissing ‘

Somewhat Suggestive ?

“Zoro! I’m capable of doing things myself!” You didn’t hesitate to raise your voice at the swordsman. Who did he think he was? You took orders from no one... let alone a foolish drunk!

You and Zoro never got along, really. Your relationship was a mess, one that could hardly be called a friendship, nor fall under an umbrella of such a sweet definition. Your ‘friendship’ mirrored Sanji and his own dynamic but somehow worse. Neither of you showed an inch of care for each other, even in the worse of circumstances. Like now.

You were denying any help from Zoro, even as you had blood and wide tears on your outfit from the rapid swing of claws. You were so close to beating that wolf bastard... but oh, here comes Zoro! You hated it. You hated how he always came to ‘save the day’. You were a woman and you could easily kick down a man. Hell, you nearly finished a prime assassin before Zoro came! He always stole your thunder..

“Like hell you are! Look at you!” Your blood boiled in the kettle of your veins, making your face flush red. You looked fine! So what if you had a few gashes and a ruined outfit? You got out alive, nearly having the zoan user crumbling at your feet, helpless.

“Look at me?” You took a step closer to Zoro, firmly pointing a finger at him, stabbing his chest with it. “I took on that guy by myself! You and Usopp couldn’t even do that!” You were furious. With all that was happening, your emotions were an absolute spiral. And having Zoro do such a thing made them explode, every emotion under the sun.

“Seems like you’re the weak one, huh?” You held your ground firmly. “But oh, i couldn’t handle it, right?... I didn’t need your dumbass to ‘save’ me!”

Zoro grabbed your wrist, tan and calloused fingers grinding into the surface of your skin. You two glared at each other, full of rage.

Instead of meeting a punch, you were met with a kiss. It was very abrupt and harsh. Almost as if it was a spur of the moment kiss, one that was never meant to happen. It only lasted about a few seconds, leaving your lips a lingering taste of sake.

You looked up at Zoro, covering most of your face, aside from your eyes and forehead. You hid the blush well from him, as well as the way your lips puckered in desire for more. What was wrong with this man?

“What was that for?” You hissed. Zoro was red faced but kept a firm, rock solid expression.

“I wanted you to shut up! Obviously, i couldn’t hit you right now, and it was the first thing i thought of.”

You rolled your eyes. First thing he thought of my ass, that was clearly a lie. Maybe not, actually... Zoro was quite a moron. Maybe it was a mere accident, one that wasn’t supposed to happen, an impulse. You shook your head, uncovering your mouth.

“You pervert,” You snarled, going to lean on the stone wall before Zoro slammed you against it. What a beast, throwing a woman into a hold she couldn’t escape. A predictable move from Roronoa. He was opposite of the man he hated, giving everybody equal attention, fight wise. You liked that about Zoro, truth be told. You hated when people would reject your battles all over your gender but you knew Zoro never would deny an opportunity. You weren’t a dainty woman to him but an opponent.

Lips collided once more, this time for far longer. Zoro’s kisses were rough and quick, occasionally biting your bottom lip, hooking it in his teeth. And this man said he wasn’t a pervert...

You hitched one of your legs upward, locking it against Zoro’s waist. You couldn’t help but find something about this ‘battle’ to be exciting. The way you felt his tongue caress your lips before biting down, it sent a euphoric feeling into your system, a feeling that lit a fire deep inside of you.

You slipped your hot pink muscle into the swordsmans mouth, soon to be met with the warm lick of his own tongue. Your lips remained in Zoro’s clutches, kissing so hard you could swear your lips would bruise. Why was this so...hot?

Zoro’s hands met with your torn top. Was that wolf guy intentionally going for your top? With how the marks were aimed at your chest especially, that seemed more then likely. And you called Zoro a pervert?

It was weird. A part of Zoro hated the thought of another man being near you. Sure, that mans job was to be around you or any of the crew, to kill them. But Zoro was curious on how the fight went. That man was so teasing before with that other zoan user... Did he act that way with you? Or was there.. more to it?

Zoro tried to fight off the sudden thoughts he had of you. Your form being toyed with by that man, your face blushing madly as you allowed him to tear your clothing, exposing your—

Wait! What the hell was he doing? Now he really was a pervert!

You pushed away from the kiss suddenly. Panting filled the hall, uneven breaths slipping from you and Zoro’s swollen lips. Part of you felt... unsatisfied and disappointed to end such an experience. You hated Zoro but maybe he was useful for one thing.

“Well, that certainly shut you up...” You smirked knowingly at Zoro. You were well at hiding back your yearn for more, for your sworn enemy to take you then and there in that very hallway.

You moved away from him, walking a bit away from the dumbstruck man.

“Oh, and Zoro!” You bellowed, making the silent man turn his head. You grinned widely, a hint of cheekiness there. “I’m taking your prey~.” You giggled before running towards the room once more.

Zoro’s eyes widened. What? No way were you in the shape to fight another Cp9 member alone... You idiot! And- and what if this one succeeded at stripping you down?

Gah! Why did Zoro keep picturing that? What kind of freak was he?

[writeblrfantasy]

THE SUN EMPIRE CHARACTER INTROS: Queen Rami

pronouns: she/her

gender and sexuality: cis woman, polyamorous bisexual

nationality: okinpon/alden

aesthetics: the brightest point of a sunset, the darkest moment of night, the north star, an eclipse, a bite to the air and a spark of a winter flame

job: queen of aldenland and emperor of the sun empire, channel of the sun goddess

“My wife, my queen—my love, Rami, she has a name, she has several, one of them Liu, and I love for her all of them—could never be cold. She is warm, she is hot, from head to toe she is a blazing fire too silent and still for you to recognize, so you mistake it for frozen ice. She is smart, and she has brought you here because she is desperate. Desperate not to lose everything she has fought for. She is scared. That is what you do not yet understand. She is scared that everything she has will be taken away, so she closes herself off to the world. She will not let her weaknesses be shown.”

“She is supposedly assured by her divine right,” Sascha gripes. “None could take her throne from her as long as she has that. She is scared without reason.”

“I just told you that you would not be killed,” Celosia counters, “only kept, but does that give you assurance? You are so dangerous, such a target, that you think I only mean to keep you alive until we are through with need for you. When we have stripped you down and you have given us everything, you will be finally granted the mercy of death and tossed aside like an old rag. Because you are powerful, so we must tread carefully with you. Yet you know that power is limited, finite, and shortlived. You know how short your importance will run.

“That is how she feels,” Celosia whispers, rising to his feet.

taglist: @magic-is-something-we-create

[menaceofabean]

𝔖𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℜ𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱

There rested amongst the trees sat a homely-looking cabin; warm yellow lights glowed through the windows, beckoning you forward with the promise of shelter from the cold rain that spring raged down. The smell of freshly baked bread came across your senses, soothing your weary soul from the long trek you made; it powered through the earthy scents that the rain brought forward. Stepping up the platform before you could even get a knock in, the door opens widely. There, stood before you was a pale, rosy cheek, five foot four and stout woman.

Her hazel eyes widen in surprise at the sight of you, then brighten with a happy gleam in them.

"I've been waiting for you, sugar."

She ushers you into her cabin, forcing you to strip off your wet coat and mud-riddled boots. She sat you down at a table that sat in the corner, next to the fireplace and a huge window that overlooked the patio. She placed a warm, petite hand on your shoulder and gave you another gentle smile.

"Let me go get you something warm to drink and eat; will you be alright?"

Shyly nodding to her hospitality, she pats your shoulder with a chuckle. Before she disappeared into the kitchen, she puts a thick crochet blanket over your shivering form. She hums a soft melody that soothes your mind from the ache of your travel. You're not sure when you closed your eyes cause she gently woke you up by setting down a warm beverage and some food with a slice of fresh bread toasted.

Softly thanking her, she shook her head,

"No need to thank me, darlin'. You've come out all this way to me for something; as a host, it's my job to take care of visitors. Now eat before we begin."

Quietness overtook the cabin though the warmth was still there. Gently moving the empty plate aside with a pleased sigh, the woman quietly placed a leather-bound book before you. You looked at her confused and suspicious. She gives you a warm smile and nods her head towards the book.

"Well, go on, it ain't gon' bite ya," She teased.

HELLOOO!! Welcome one and all to this lovely Spring Rain Event! Since Spring is on the horizon, I figured why not do something different for myself. This event includes a mix of art and a bit of writing.

There will be 6 slots available! Please ask me through my inbox! I will let everyone know when those slots have been taken up. I will also cross off when someone had requested a character and the prompt, that way we won't have a repeat.

ALL SLOTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN!

My rules:

- Please do not rush me! This is my 1st ever event.

- This is an x reader!

- Do not be upset if the slots have been taken up, there may be more events that I will do in a near future.

- Please choose from the list I have provided (1 character + 1 prompt, for ex: hello, can I request for Ace + Porch Swing? pls and thank you!)

- will do n//sfw BUT if you ask me for n//sfw, the art will have to be separated from the writing and posted on my Twitter or you can ask for it to be sent privately. You better be 18+ when requesting this.

- Everything will be gender-neutral unless told otherwise.

- All of this will be fluff.

- All in all, just be respectful with requesting.

𝒫𝑅𝒪𝑀𝒫𝒯𝒮/𝒞𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒜𝒞𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮 𝐵𝐸𝐿𝒪𝒲

Characters I can do:

- Portgas D. Ace

- Marco the Phoenix

- Thatch

- Sabo

- X-Drake

- Masked Deuce

- Monkey D. Luffy

- Coby

- Shanks

- Nico Robin

- Izo

- Zoro

Prompts:

- Young/Old Rayleigh

- Sun Shower

- Lazy Morning

- Family (can either be with kids or with their crew)

- Breakfast

- Storm Breeze

- Woods

- Plants

- Coffee

- Strawberry

- Starry Night

- Stolen Hoodie

- Porch Swing

- Fever

- Cleaning

- Notebook/Journal

- Enchanted

- Flower Field

- Hot Spring/Lake

- Blossoms

- Proposal

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Spencer Reid x Reader

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.”                  

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.”                       

PART ONE HERE

A/N: It came out fast!!! I had lowk already started it, so that’s why this update came so quickly. Please don’t expect them all to come this fast LMAO. I usually write slow as fuck. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this part so I can maybe just maybe turn this into a mini series. Please lmk if you guys like :) 

CONTENT WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF SEX (lmk if i missed any please) 

I paced the bullpen as the team spoke to Penelope. The shock of her pregnancy was starting to wear off, and now I could think more clearly. How could she? What was she thinking? 

Recently, I’d found myself thinking about it more, a baby her and a mini-me. A family of my own, with the love of my life. It was exciting and like a lovesick fool it made my stomach fuzzy. But she wasn’t ready and I couldn’t do that to her. So how could she do it to herself? She hadn’t finished school, hadn’t started her career. She could barely take care of herself! I wasn’t mad, absolutely not. Just disappointed at her self-sabotage and the fact she’d made the decision completely without me. I couldn’t think about it for long though, because I was swiftly reminded by my surroundings that right now, there was a chance I’d lose her, our child and any children we wanted to have in the future. That was the priority. 

“Garcia, check her credit card records, we need to see where she last was.” Hotch said. 

“Uhm, okay,” Penelope took a deep breath while clicking away, “Let’s see. Her last purchase was last night, 6:49 at a CVS Pharmacy, oh--” 

“What Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“She was um, picking up her monthly case of birth control.” 

JJ broke the silence, “Spence…” she started towards me. 

I breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank god.” 

“Thank god?” Morgan questioned. 

“She’s 23.” I wiped my face, “Whole life ahead of her.” The team understood what I was trying to say. Rossi’s hand fell on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“So why would she tell Brook she was?” Garcia asked. 

“I uh, I..I don’t know.” I spat out. I really had no idea.  

“Think Reid.” Rossi told me. “You guys ever talk about kids or pregnancy?”

“She might be trying to send us a message,” Emily added. 

I thought back to the last time we discussed starting a family. 

--FLASHBACK-- 

We were surrounded by timeless pieces of art and history, and yet the true masterpiece was still her. She was always beautiful to me, a perfect being, truly. But today, something about the way she looked today specifically, made her look like the kind of beauty you see in a painting. Had she been a painting, her creator must have been skilled. Each stroke of his brush creating every divine curve of her face and body to produce a work of magnificent art, one that I so proudly hung on the walls of my heart. 

I remember exactly what she wore, and how it felt to take it all off. The painter had an eye for color. Her denim skirt, the length or lack thereof making me embarrassingly wary, was blue like the Mediterranean Sea, complementing the pigment of the skin of her legs. A white button down made of silk, not worn properly, of course. Too many buttons were left open at the top, as to draw attention to the gold adorned on her chest, but in the spell of temptation she procured to cast upon me, my eyes wandered to admire territories of her body they shouldn’t have. Not in public, at least. The buttons at the bottom were left untouched as well, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. She looked like an angel, but of course, went out of her way to instead be my temptress.

My affinity for her beauty aside, the wide eyes in delight at the museum artifacts and careful attention to my commentary were what made our excursion wonderful. The feeling of her smaller hand in mine, and the giggles and the teasing “You’re way too nerdy to be so stupid hot Dr. Reid.” made it absolutely perfect. 

In exchange for her listening so attentively to my historical facts and stories, I took her for ice cream. She insisted we ate it on the greens of Lincoln Park. Who was I to deny her that? What came next--I expected. She’d devoured it. Made a mess of strawberry ice cream on her white shirt. 

“It was the wind!” She insisted as the first of many drips of ice cream fell down her chin. 

“No it was not!” I argued back while wiping it, “You just never learned how to eat ice cream properly.” I gently removed the cone from her hands and into mine, taking an overzealous bite. “This, lovey, is how you eat ice cream.” 

“Give it back, you...you dickass!” She snorted. We laughed like two lovesick teenagers. 

“Dickass?” I asked, eyes watery from laughter. 

“Yeah dickass, give me back my damn ice cream.” I took another bite, “Stop! You’re eating it all!” She pouted. Pouts were unfortunately my weakness and I handed it back to her. However, in her rush, the pink scoop had fallen directly on her blouse. 

“Way to prove my point,” I started to take off my cardigan, “You want dickass’s sweater?” 

She wanted to be mad but couldn’t contain the wince of a smile. “Please.” 

We carefully removed her shirt from under while simultaneously putting the cardigan in its place. 

“Spence don’t let me flash! There’s kids and judgmental old ladies here!” 

I laughed and shushed her, “I know, I know.” I moved all the fabrics quickly and it was done. Her sticky pink shirt was replaced with my soft sweater. “There.” 

“My hero,” She kissed me, “Truly.”

She leaned back on our picnic blanket on her shoulders as we observed our fellow park goers. “So many kids.”  

I nodded my head in agreement. “Yeah…” 

“We should bring our kids here one day.” she said, instantly breaking my haze from the crowd so I could only see her. 

I smiled again at the thought, “Yeah, and tell them how their mom is the world's clumsiest ice cream eater.”

She looked at me with disdain before shoving her shoulder into mine. “Shut up.” 

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.” 

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.” 

I toppled her so we were laying down, facing each other. She kissed me hard, and my hands went to the sides of her face, only pulling back to say “I can’t wait for it, you know. My two little girls.” 

She smiled, “But I’ll always be your favorite right?” she asked sarcastically. 

I laughed, “Oh of course. Always.” 

“I’ll have a big ol’ belly, you know.” I nodded, “You’d still be perfect.” 

“We’d have to go to the mall, buy me a shitload of new clothes. Do ya know how dirty malls are Spence?” I winced at the thought of thousands of strangers bacteria on every surface and she laughed, “Got ya.” I shook my head, “Nope! I uh, I’ll just bring hand sanitizers and uh, to the Maternity section we’ll go.” 

“Non-stop Panda express eating.” I nodded again, “I’ll be non-stop Panda Express buying, then.” She smiled so hard her nose scrunched. 

“I love you Spencer.” 

“I love you too. I am so in love with you.” 

--FLASHBACK ENDS--

“Yeah but it was trivial.” I said. 

“Maybe not,” Hotch argued, “Was anything mentioned specifically?” 

“A name she liked?” Prentiss added, “Maybe a craving she thought she might have? Anything at all?” 

I nodded, “Not a food, but a fast food place. Panda Express.” I doubted that would be helpful. 

“It’s a stretch but, Garcia, check for any dilapidated buildings within 10 miles of a Panda Express.” 

“Yes sir,” She typed away and then said, “No, guys. I’m sorry. All of our Panda Express’s are in pristine malls or new developments.” 

“Mall!” I shouted, “She said we’d have to go to the mall! She knows I hate the mall.” 

Morgan pointed at us, “The tiles in that room look like they could be from some 80’s Bloomingdales.” 

“Garcia-” I said. 

“Already on it.” 

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

The pregnancy ruse was either going to get me killed, or save my life. It was a moment of panic and I just wanted to throw her off. I know it did, but in what direction? 

She was still crying, her demeanor with me was still laced with bitter animosity, but she was calmer now. 

“How long have you known?” Brook asked, the contents of her flask now empty and her words slurred. 

“I found out yesterday.” I lied through my teeth. 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Had you guys talked about it?” 

“Vaguely.” I admitted. 

“What’d Spencer want? Boy or girl?” I debated on whether or not to say, and she caught on. “Don’t fucking lie.” She stated harshly. 

“Girl.” I breathed out. “He wants a girl.” 

“What do you want?” she asked. 

“I don’t care.” I said. That was true. 

“How come?” 

“I just want to start a family with him. Don’t really care about the gender…” That was true as well. 

“Oh.” she nodded her head, “Why’d he want a girl?” It was strange, her  genuine curiosity. It freaked me out, but my alternative was being stabbed. I chose to just answer her questions, regardless of how much I really did not want to.  

“He liked the idea of a little girl who looked like me.” 

She winced, eyes tearing up further. “Right.” I was beginning to realize her feelings were very real. 

“You really like him, don’t you?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help it. My head was still looking for an answer as to how she could be driven to do something like this. 

She clasped her hands together, her anger returning.  “Don’t fucking start. You know nothing of what I feel for Spencer.” She came up closer and tugged at my hair, “Fucking nothing.” 

“Okay,” I grimaced at the pain from the force at which she pulled my hair, “I-I’m sorry.” 

She let go, “You should be. You really, really fucking should be.” She sat back down, pensive for a while. I wish I knew what she was thinking about. 

My heart had not stopped it’s fast pace ridden with anxiety since I gained full awareness of my situation, but now, it felt like it was going to burst through my chest. Was she planning on just killing me now? 

My anticipation ceased when she got up and brought back the camera with her again. “Hello BAU. There has been a change in plans. Your beloved,” The words reeked of sarcasm, “Y/N here, will be returned eventually. . She’s gonna be fine. However, it is now in everybody best interest if this video feed was cut out. Sorry.” She said before mouthing, “No I’m not.” She shut the camera off. 

She turned to me, “I hate you. Fucking despise you.” Figures. 

“But I would never hurt Spencer. Or his child. Even if it is being carried by a whore like you.” 

She began to pace once more, “You’re obviously a mistake on his part. You clearly tricked him with sex and...no just sex I think. You're not really smart enough to be capable of anything else. Regardless, he’s probably already thinking about abortions or adoption. There’s no way in hell a man like him could ever want to start a family with a girl like you.” She shook her head, “Absolutely not.” 

I could only nod my head at her delusions. This woman was so far up her ass. 

She pinched my cheeks together with her cold hands, “You tried to trap him. How’d that go for you?” 

I was silent.

“I asked you a fucking question!” She held my face impossibly tighter. 

“Poorly.” I got out, “Poorly.” 

“In 9 months, I’ll help you deliver your baby. And then, you can go.” Brook backed away and let go of her tight grip on my face. “I’m keeping the kid. Raising it.” She smiled, “I’ll be the mother Spencer’s child will deserve. And then-” A giggle creepily reminiscent of a schoolgirl’s left her throat, “He’ll love me!” 

Brooks intention had twisted from wanting to murder and torture me as revenge for “taking” Spencer, to a now twisted maternal desire for his (hypothetical) child. But if Spencer and his team couldn’t find me before the time I was supposed to be showing, I was fucked. Utterly fucked. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taglist: @britishspidey

(Let me know to be added)

[lovelypeasantjellyfish]

“I know it’s not your birthday or anything, but I got you a present.” - Wilhemina Venable x Reader

This is the first complete (Lord knows I’ve got a bunch of WIP and vague ideas swirling around in my head and laptop) fanfiction I’ve ever written for AHS. I got the idea from the fluff, hurt/comfort prompt list made by rookie-ramsey, link here.

Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Reader (Reader’s gender is not specified but they are wearing a skirt in this fic)

Trigger Warning(s): Several mentions of smut and NSFW activities.

1914 Words

The moment you saw that jar of candy-coated violets in the shop window, you immediately thought of Mina; although to be honest, anything purple you saw made you think of her. But these violets were somehow different, they brought up images of how it would look like when sweet treats swirled around in her mouth, coating her tongue and throat as she savoured them. You stood there for a second, dry-mouthed as your mind wandered to the redhead who always took your breath away with her monochrome outfits, stern voice, and gentle touches.

The shopkeeper knocked on the shop window, startling you. Your face flushed when you spotted their raised brow. They were, without a doubt, silently judging the red-faced stranger that had been standing in front of the shop window for much longer than necessary. Giving them a weak smile, you kept your head down and entered the store, pushing down the embarrassment of being caught. The candies were much more important than what some shopkeeper thought, Mina was more important.

Your experience in the store wasn’t much smoother either and only served to embarrass you even further. The cashier stifled a laugh as you marched into the store and made a beeline for the candies with a determined look on your face, exchanging an amused look with the shopkeeper, who was watching you like you were the most interesting thing that had happened to them so far that day. Their supposedly silent judgment became audible when you almost tripped over your own feet when walking to the register, both letting out a short laugh and clearing their throats.

“For someone special?” The cashier asked as they bagged the item. You nodded silently, not trusting yourself to speak. Wilhelmina was definitely special.

With the small jar now tucked safely in your bag, you made your way home to your apartment. Plans had been made on the day before to have dinner at your place, and Mina had called earlier to say that she would be late, grumbling about a meeting and imbeciles. You had chuckled softly at that, loving the way her voice sounded when she cursed.

Now that the sun was setting, you only had an hour or so before Mina showed up at your door, no doubt dressed in her signature purple with a tired expression on her face. You hurried home, feet falling quickly into place as you took to the road you knew so well. You stayed in your work clothes as you began to prepare the food, the precious jar still safe at the bottom of your bag. Dinner was simple enough, roast chicken with mashed potatoes and sautéed veggies. It was a meal that you'd prepared many times before, mostly because it was the one sort of fancy meal that you were confident in.

The sound of Mina's cane outside your apartment door met your ears just as you finished setting the table, each utensil placed perfectly parallel to each other, just the way Mina liked. You hurriedly wiped your hands on your skirt as Mina knocked, the sound sharp and resonating. You opened the door, a smile immediately dancing across your face as your eyes met those of Mina's.

Stepping aside, you let Mina into your space. She handed you her handbag, which you took as you greeted her, gently depositing it on the end table where your own bag sat. Your gaze drifted to the small lump protruding from the canvas fabric, another smile found your mouth as your mind wandered to how Mina's face would light up when you presented the jar to her.

"You're in a good mood today." Mina's voice sounded from directly behind you, her hot breath tickling the tip of your ear. You squeaked in surprise and turned to face her, her hand grasped your right hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"I guess I'm just happy to see you." You replied, grinning at her amused face. A light blush coated her cheeks as you looked up to meet her eyes, the smile never leaving your face. The two of you stayed there for a few seconds, enjoying the expression on each other's face and the comfortable silence. Mina's hand left your hip to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her fingers tracing along your jaw and lingering there. Your face was definitely redder than hers now, judging from the glint in her eyes as she continued to stare at you. Unable to take the rush of emotions under her gaze, you broke eye contact, face flushed, mumbling something about dinner. You didn't, however, miss the smirk on Mina's face when she won the staring contest.

Chuckling softly, Mina took your hand and led you to the perfectly set table. You pulled out the chair for her, making sure she was comfortable before heading over to the fridge, getting out a pitcher of iced water for yourself and wine for Mina. You carefully poured the wine into the waiting glass, Mina's tongue darting out to lick her lips as she eyed the red liquid, gently swirling the glass when you were done.  

"How was your day Mina?" You began, taking your seat and filling your glass. "Better now" she replied, gracefully bringing up a forkful of chicken to her lips. You hummed in agreement, eyes once again flickering to your bag. Mina watched you, she knew you were definitely up to something. Usually, you would not be able to take your eyes off her, given that the two of you did not spend that much time together. You’d been together for almost a year now, but because of the long hours of your respective jobs, occasional weekday dinners and weekends were the only time the both of you could devote to each other. Luckily for Wilhemina, it was a Friday, meaning that she had two whole days to pry whatever it was that you were hiding out of you.

A smirk tugged at her lips as she thought of the ways she could get you to confess, the methods she could use to get the words to spill out of your pretty little mouth, needless to say, a lot of it involved situations that left her feeling that oh so familiar tingle. You continued eating your dinner, unaware that Mina was eyeing you like a predator to prey. It was only when you were reaching for your glass that you noticed Mina’s plate was a lot fuller than your own. “Is everything okay? Is there something wrong with the food?” You asked, noting Mina’s slightly flushed face. The food tasted fine to you, but then again, you had made and eaten this meal many times before, maybe it was too salty or bland for Mina’s liking. Or maybe her back was hurting, or maybe her day was worse than she had let on.

Wilhelmina snapped out of her fantasies at the sound of your voice, blinking at your worried eyes. “No, sweetheart. I was thinking of something else, that’s all.”. She took a bite of the potatoes, they were slightly warm, coating her tongue as she swallowed.

“Oh, okay. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing in particular.” She evaded your question, knowing that if she had asked right at that moment, you would have confessed immediately, but if she waited until she got you to the bedroom, your surprising bratty side would show if she played her cards right. Then, oh then, she’d have a fun night ahead of her.

“Mina, is everything really alright?” Your voice was softer this time, you’d watched her more closely after what had happened, and Mina’s fork had stopped at the side of her plate again.

“Everything is fine sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” Wilhelmina kept her tone even, not wanting to spoil her plans for tonight. She would have snapped at you to drop it in the past, when the two of you were unfamiliar and both had walls up. She would never admit it out loud, but you made her want to take them down, just so that she could be closer to you. Even then, your constant smiles directed at her and the way your face would scrunch up trying not to laugh whenever she cursed sent her metaphorical walls crumbling bit by bit.

You were planning to wait until after dinner to present the little jar of candies to Mina, almost as if the candies would be dessert, but seeing her like this made your heart break a little. She was being distant, or at least that was what her efforts to keep her plans for later tonight secret seemed like to you. The two of you had taken your relationship slow, mainly because the two of you were afraid to get hurt or even worse, hurt each other. Thus it was understandable that you had misread her, even if you didn't know it yet.

"Well, I have something that might cheer you up," you declared, deciding that if your little gift was going to make Mina feel better, you were going to give it to her as soon as possible. You walked over to your bag, gently cradling the jar in your arms as you headed back towards the table. "I know it's not your birthday or anything, but I got you a present." You slowly placed the jar on the table in front of Mina, just as her eyes widened in surprise.

If her walls were crumbling before, they were definitely completely reduced to dust now.

Wilhemina stared at the jar in front of her, breath hitching as she noticed how the sugar coating each purple petal shined as they reflected the light; they reminded her of how your eyes twinkled whenever you looked at her. This was the first gift you'd given her in the course of your relationship, with your birthdays coincidentally falling in the same month.

She looked up at you, you had been watching her expression, but quickly looked away when her eyes met yours, looking at the kitchen wall like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. You were naturally a shy person, even more so in situations like this, when you didn't know how the other person would react. "Thank you, sweetheart, they look absolutely divine" Mina breathed, smiling softly.

You met her eyes at the sound of Mina's words, noticing the smile on her lips as a similar one tugged at your lips and your heart swelled at the sight. "You're welcome Mina.".

The rest of the dinner went on as they normally did, except for Mina's more frequent and softer glances at you and the jar in front of her. Once both of your plates were empty, you did the dishes while Mina remained at the table, watching your back as you hummed a somewhat familiar tune and made sure that every single piece of cutlery was clean.

Both of you spent the next three days together, lazing around the apartment as the jar slowly emptied, the sweet taste lingering on both of your lips.

Epilogue: When you stopped by Mina's workplace to drop off a forgotten file (you'd convinced her to stay in bed for five more minutes after a particularly intense night, which resulted in the uncharacteristic forgetfulness), you noticed the empty jar sitting on her desk, next to the crystal ball. You fell even deeper in love with Wilhemina Venable.

[beautiful-and-terrible]

dazed ‘n’ confused (part 1)

A/N: Literally this is just a combination of frustration and gender envy I have for rodrick heffley. both characters are 18 :)

Ship: rodrick heffley x OFC

Warnings: none in this part, probably NSFW in later chapters

---

Nicole had never had a more boring summer.

She and her family, (Mom, Dad, and two younger sisters) had moved to this rinky-dink town in April, and Nicole squeezed in two months of school without making any friends before summer hit in a disgusting, sweltering mess of dry lawns and humid nights.

She managed to get a job life-guarding, and that was the highlight of her days through July and August. Her initial blistering sunburn on the tops of her feet and legs turned into a nice tan, and she usually walked the two miles from her house to the pool, so she stayed in good shape (minus the five or six ice-pops she would eat during her shifts).

Mainly, the reason she enjoyed life-guarding so much was because her neighbor, Rodrick Heffley, would come to the pool almost every day and stay until closing time (which also happened to be the end of Nicole’s shift). She tried not to think too much into it.

Nicole wouldn’t usually be attracted to boys like Rodrick. He was loud, and generally harassed the other kids in the pool, and splashed the old ladies when he cannon-balled off the diving board. He and his friends were always goofing off and violating pool rules. Nicole blew her whistle more times for him than she did for anyone else. Every time she did, she would point at him silently, and slowly give him a thumbs down.

And every time, he would give her a salute back and a shit-eating grin. It made her heart flutter funnily, and she would glower at him from behind her sunglasses.

Still, Nicole only worked at the pool four days a week - that meant her Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays were all abysmally, utterly free. Nicole tried to do things that made her happy - she practiced bass, and even a little guitar, and learned a few songs by heart. She redecorated her room, twice. 

From her window, she could occasionally see Rodrick pass by in his attic room - never anything indecent of course, but it always made her tummy feel funny to think of him, in his room, doing Rodrick things. She knew he was in a band, and played the drums - the whole block could hear their band practice on Friday nights. It was a little cringe, she knew, but she moved her bed under the window so she could glimpse his shadow when he walked by, coltish and gangly as it was.

She wanted to know more about him though - his favorite song, what he put on his burgers, even what his sheets looked like (which she blushed to think about. Get a grip.)

One blisteringly hot Thursday in August, Nicole decided to bike to work instead of walking. It would take less time, and would hopefully generate a little breeze to cool her off instead of trudging along on the soft asphalt. And, of course, right as she was about to turn off her street, her tire blew.

“Are you shitting me?” Nicole said under her breath, moving her long hair out of her eyes to look at what could’ve possibly punctured her tire. 

As she knelt down, a voice called “Need some help?” from behind her.

She turned to see Rodrick on his own bike, standing on the pedals and arms braced in front of him on the handle bars. He was wearing cargo shorts and a DIY tank top, obviously an old t-shirt with the arms cut off. Nicole’s eyes were drawn to his toned brown arms and the slip of torso she could see. She swallowed heavily before replying.

“Yeah, stupid tire blew out. Do you have a spare?” she asked, not really thinking about it. She didn’t know why she felt so comfortable asking Rodrick for help. They had never really talked before - only passing on the street, raising a hand to each other in greeting. The only other consistent interaction they had was Nicole reprimanding Rodrick for pouring cherry slushies in the kiddie pool.

“For sure - follow me. I'm Rodrick, by the way,” he said. "I know who you are - everyone at school told me to stay the hell away from you," Nicole teased, and began to follow Rodrick back toward his house, Nicole carrying her gimp bike over her shoulders and Rodrick walking his bike beside her.

"And all my friends said to avoid Nicole Tagliaferi like the plague,"

"It's Tagliani, dipshit. It's Italian."

"Sure, sure, whatever," Rodrick said teasingly, before turning to look at her, “You like lifeguarding?”. She could tell he was trying to make conversation, and it made a small secret smile appear on her lips.

“It’s alright - when you aren’t making trouble for me,” she replied, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. She saw his signature devilish grin appear, white teeth flashing.

“But otherwise, you’d just be sitting in the hot sun all day, watching old ladies do aqua-cize or whatever they call it.”

“Do you mean water aerobics?” Nicole laughed, trying not to let her mirth get away from her and let out a snort of amusement.

“Exactly. At least I bring something good-looking to the table,” Rodrick preened, jumping on his bike and riding it up the last leg of his drive way. Nicole followed him into the open garage - it smelled as most garages do, of rubber and dust and wood projects that the men of the family have yet to finish.

Nicole watched as Rodrick moved some boxes aside and reached up to grab a spare bike tire off the wall - her gaze slipped down to see his shirt ride up over his hip bones, revealing a flat stomach and a dark happy trail. Her mouth went dry, and she became increasingly aware of how hot the back of her neck felt, even in the dim shade of the garage.

“Let me grab a wrench and I can get started. You want anything to drink? Coke, lemonade?”

“Coke sounds good - thanks,” Nicole replied after a moment, still recovering from her earlier lapse of concentration.

While she waited, Nicole decided it wouldn’t be the worst thing to look for some music - she found an old radio in the corner and found her favorite classic rock channel. Luckily, they happened to be playing Led Zeppelin, and one of Nicole’s favorites, too. The slow, wailing guitar guided her hips as she started to dance a little around the garage. Being the nosy busy-body she was, Nicole had no qualms about letting herself get comfortable in other peoples houses. She was always looking in boxes and admiring little trinkets, imagining what it would be like to live there. Not that there was anything particularly interesting in the garage besides Rodrick’s drum set.

She swayed over to the shiny instruments and picked up the sticks, sliding around the back to the seat and beginning to try and replicate the beat from the song. 

“Sorry, neighbor, there's only room for one hot drummer in this band,” Rodrick said as he came back in the garage. Nicole stopped playing immediately, feeling flustered at being caught and simultaneously being called “hot”.

“Is that the noise I hear coming from this garage? You call that music?” 

Rodrick rolled his eyes, handing her the ice-cold coke. “You sound like my Dad. Let me guess - you listen to Taylor Swift?”

Nicole shrugged, taking a sip of her coke. “Taylor Swift is fine. So is classic rock, and nu-metal, and Mozart. I’m not picky.”

Rodrick gave her a funny look, wandering over to her bike and beginning to unscrew the washers from the flat tire.

“So what's your favorite classic rock band, then?”

“The same as many others, I suppose. Zeppelin, AC/DC, the occasional Metallica. My dad raised me on Rob Zombie and Bob Marley, and my mom learned more toward The Beatles and Carly Simon.”

Rodrick stopped what he was doing to look back at her, his mouth slightly agape. Nicole felt a swell of smugness at flooring this over-confident boy with her knowledge of music he obviously thought was “superior”. 

“Loded Diper was originally a Motley Crue cover band, did you know?”

Nicole hid a laugh behind another sip of coke. “No, I didn’t know that. I’m assuming now you write your own songs?”

Rodrick blushed, turning his gaze back to the task of fitting the new tire onto the frame of the bike. “Yeah, I dabble in song writing. Mostly the chords, I’m shit with lyrics.”

“That’s a good skill. It takes practice to learn how music sounds good together. You can’t just throw random chords together and expect it to sound good.”

“You talk like you know music,” Rodrick said, looking over his shoulder at Nicole. 

“Yeah, I dabble.” Nicole replied, throwing his own words back at him. Rodrick tightened the last screw on the tire and reattached the chain.

“There. Good as new,” he said, swinging the bike back around toward Nicole. She reached for the seat and the handlebars at the same time, and without thinking about where she placed her hands, ended up putting them right over Rodrick’s. It only lasted for a moment, but she swore she could feel all the air leave the room. Her eyes met his liquid dark ones. 

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly, and hopped on her bike without another word, coasting down the driveway and pedaling as nonchalantly and quickly as she could toward the pool. 

Rodrick didn’t follow her. She wished that he had.

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [13]

Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14

➜ Words: 4.3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“I’m in love with you,” he asserts.   “Gross.”   Your answer is instinctive. But you’re not disgusted with him. Your features don’t twist. Your lips don’t become lopsided. Rather, the word is stated blankly. Impulsively. After all, you’ve conditioned yourself to respond like that — like anything in relation to romance is now awful.   “Yeah.” Jungkook sighs, hair shagging over his forehead as he looks down. “I know. I’m pretty disgusted with myself too. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still in love with you. Fucking head over heels and all that crap.”   You’re rendered speechless, about to ask him if he’s fucking with you, if this is some kind of sick joke.   But then suddenly, Jungkook sighs loudly, startling you. His rigid body deflates, the tension in his muscles leaves and he knocks his head back, taking a deep breath. “God, it feels so good to be honest. With myself and with you.”   The sun is setting over the horizon, the warmth soaking into his skin and softening his edges. The pair of you face each other in the middle of the empty sidewalk on an equally empty campus. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to take cover.   You wonder how long he’s felt this way for.   You’re conflicted, unsure what to tell him. “Love’s a strong word, Jungkook.”   “I’m aware.”   “H-How are you even sure?”   The dark-haired man looks you in the eye, his own becoming half-lidded. His breathing turns shallow, heavy in his chest and out his parted lips. “I’m sure.”   You know Jungkook well enough to recognize his earnest sincerity. There isn’t a shred of doubt in his gaze nor his expression. He doesn’t waver once in his bold conviction. There’s only truth.   “Well…...shit.” The words sink into you. The claws and pointed ends of each syllable nick into your flesh. In an instant, your impassiveness is torn from you — your placid state taken — your stoic face uncovered. “Fuck. Fuck!”    You scream up into the sky, turning around, hands in your hair. What he’s saying registers and you hate it. You hate that love has to mess up every single relationship that you have. Goddamn. You can’t keep that disease away from affecting the people you care about most.   Jungkook watches you have the small meltdown with widened eyes, not sure what to do or say. But then you whirl around after a moment, determination set in your features. All of a sudden, you grab his hand, patting it with your other firmly as if you were a doctor coaxing and comforting a patient.   “We can overcome this together.”   “What?”   “It’s okay. This happens. If you’re friends with someone from the gender you’re attracted to, it’s natural you end up having a crush on them. It’s expected actually, considering we spend so much time together and interact so much. People encounter this issue all the time, but we can overcome it, Jungkook. Together.” You put your hand on his shoulder, eyes sympathetic. “I’ll help you get over me.”   Jungkook can feel his left eye twitching.   Of all responses, he did not expect this one. You’re acting like his therapist and that he’s got some kind of illness. You even end up thanking him for telling you the truth.   Jungkook might actually need to see a therapist after talking to you.

Infatuation only lasts so long. Personally, in your humble opinion, you aren’t hot shit anyway. You’re not that great. Jungkook will get over himself when he sees you for how you really are.   If anyone’s ever liked you, they won’t for long — you have evidence of that.   “Hey, buddy!” You give finger guns as a greeting, making sure to not get too close to him.   “You don’t need to patronize me.”   Your voice releases stiff laughter. “Alright, bro.” You put your fist out for a fist bump, but Jungkook completely ignores you. He walks right past you with his hands in the pockets of his open coat.   “Are you coming or are you going to stand there like an idiot?” he asks, briefly glancing over his shoulder.   You scoff.   Ever since the whole traumatizing confession, nothing’s changed. But at the same time everything has.   Jungkook doesn’t act any differently — he still glares at you, calls you stupid and a witch. But you also begin to notice how affectionate his physical gestures are, when he taps your arm, when takes your shoulder to guide you away from a crowd, when he pats your head.    And your efforts of keeping things as platonic as possible inadvertently makes everything awkward. It’s even worse now that you’re literally spending so much time with Jungkook. Exclusively. It’s just him, and for the months to come, it will only be him.   You’ve already decided within the first minute that you won’t ignore him or distance yourself. You can’t. Not with the upcoming internship, and not when you’ve had that happen to you. You won’t do such a cruel thing to someone else. Jungkook will always be your friend no matter what and you’ll make sure of that.   You catch up with him. “You know, I haven’t showered in days. This is like three-day old hair. Greasy, right? I just get so lazy showering.”   “Right.” He ignores you.   It goes silent and you noisily clear your throat. “Man, I had the worst shit today. It was explosive, dude.”   “You really think toilet humour is going to make me stop liking you?” Jungkook stops in his tracks and you halt in a delayed manner. He shifts towards you, glaring. “What do you take me for?”   You pout. “At least I’m trying.”   “Try harder.” He pauses. “For the sake of both of us.”   You’re befuddled over his answer and when he starts walking again, you quicken your pace to match his. “What? You don’t want to like me?”   “Not if you don’t want me to. I just wonder what’s more difficult,” he hums thoughtfully, “You trying to get me to stop liking you or me trying to make you like me.”   “I already like you,” you mumble.   “See?” Jungkook points out abruptly as the corner of his mouth quirks into a subtle smile. “That’s not going to help with my situation.”   “Sorry.” Your cheeks puff in your pout.   “Neither is that,” He says and when you quirk your head to the side, brows furrowing, he grins boyishly. “Stop worrying about it before you give yourself wrinkles. Save your energy for the internship. I’m the least of your concerns.”   He’s wrong.    Jeon Jungkook is the biggest thing on your mind lately.

Kim’s Wedding Cake Company sits in the middle of Imlings Avenue.    It’s a bakery played in between two small boutiques. It has tan brick walls and the shop’s sign is slightly worn around the red letters, but still legible. The doorway is narrow and crowded by two large glass windows on either side that invites onlookers inside for a session of cake tasting.   The bell chimes as Jungkook pushes the door open, keeping it wide until you’re able to step in.   The cream walls and the floorboards create a cozy atmosphere like you’re home. But what sets it aside from an intimate abode is the paintings of wedding cakes on the walls and the rounded tables with chairs around them for customers to sit at.   A counter is curved at the corner of the room, cutting off the main area from the back. The moment the bell stops ringing, a short woman comes frantically stumbling out from the doorway.   “Welcome!”    She grins and the wrinkles around her eyes crease. Her brunette hair is in a bun, strays falling to frame her face. The woman is maybe around her early forties. “Congratulations on your engagement!” She grabs her binder and starts flipping. “Do you have an appointment?”   “Oh no! He and I…” You point at Jungkook and then back at yourself, flustered. “We’re not like that.”   Jungkook is holding back laughter, watching you flounder about. You’ve suddenly become so anxious at the idea that the pair of you are engaged. He turns away to look at the woman. “What she means is that we’re your interns.”   “Oh, thank god.” The woman sighs, stepping back. “For a second here, I thought I had completely forgotten about an appointment.” She turns on her feet, placing her hands on her hips and shouts, “Namjoon! Honey! We were supposed to get our interns today?!”   From the other room, a man’s voice screams back. “What?!”   She goes closer to the doorway, shrieking, “Our interns! Were they supposed to come today?!”   “No! They’re coming in a week from now!”   “Then why are they standing right here?!”   “What?!”   “Why are they standing here?!”   You exchange a look with Jungkook, not sure what’s going on. At the same time, a stocky, tall man in the traditional chef's uniform emerges — white double-breasted jacket, black pants and an apron. “I heard you, I heard you.”   “Did you mark it wrong in the calendar again?”   “I swear I didn’t—” The older man’s eyes widen as they catch the two of you standing there awkwardly. You lift your hand in salutation and he laughs. “Well, what do you know! Here they are, today! Welcome to our home!”   Namjoon opens the wooden separator, comes out and wipes his hands on his apron haphazardly to shake both of your hands. His wife sighs and follows closely to greet you. “You must be Y/N and Jungsook?”   “Jungkook,” he corrects in dismay while you try to hide your giggles.   “Right, right. My bad. My name is Namjoon and my wife here is Sejeong.”   Sejeong smiles. “I’m glad you’re both on board. Do you have any experience doing wedding cakes?”   “No, we haven’t.”   “It’s alright,” she reassures, “We’ll teach you along the way.”   “We need all the help we can get.” Namjoon sighs. “Ever since Soohyun went on maternity leave, we’ve been swamped up to our chins. Doesn’t help that it’s wedding season.”   “Auntie.” A four foot eight girl comes out from the back, her long black hair tied into a ponytail at the crown of her head, and coral apron tied around her body. “The chocolate’s melted—”   The girl freezes on her spot, big eyes pinpointing onto Jungkook. You glance at him, and he looks at you with a small shrug.   “Has it?” Sejeong smiles and brushes past her. “I’ll go check.”   The younger girl doesn’t move and Namjoon smiles. “Oh, this is my eighteen year old niece, Yuna. She’s working here part-time to help out, mostly on the weekends when she’s not at school.”   “Nice to meet you.” She timidly approaches Jungkook, clearing her throat and batting her lashes at him.   Jungkook blankly shakes her hand. “Hi.”   You extend your own hand and it’s only then that she seems to notice you and reluctantly shakes it. “I’m Y/N and this is Jungkook.”   “Jungkook,” she murmurs after you. “So you’re going to work here till August?”   “Yes, they will.” Namjoon laughs heartily. “You should go help your aunt look at the chocolate, Yuna. You can only learn if you know what you did wrong or right.”   “Fine.” She exhales and drags her feet away, throwing a fleeting look to Jungkook over her shoulder.   Namjoon re-directs his attention to the two of you with a softened smile. “Let me show you around!”    The back area is a short hall that splits into three. The door to the left is a room with a table and chairs, posters of wedding cakes on the walls and happily married couples on their wedding day. “This is our only private room we have. It’s just in case a couple has a large party with them or would like some privacy when we have our consultation.”   You peek your head into the room across from it. “That is our staff room and our bathroom and where our offices are. You can always eat your lunch or take a break here.”   Namjoon leads you the other way and it’s to the place you know best — silver countertops, stoves, ovens, and sinks galore. “And this is our kitchen. We have a fridge here where we keep our cakes, a small fridge, our pantry. You’ll get yourself familiar pretty soon, don’t worry.”   You return from the tour back to the main area, asking questions along the way which Namjoon is happy to answer. The pair of you also offer more insight into what you know and he’s pleasantly surprised that his two interns are more experienced than expected.   “It can get pretty hectic around here during the wedding season. Some days we just have appointments and cake tasting all day. Other times, we’re rushing to make a wedding cake for the following day or we might be at the wedding venue getting it all set up. We usually open up shop around eight in the morning and you guys are let off at four.”   “Don’t worry, if we have to stay late to catch up on work or finish a cake up, you’ll get paid handsomely.” Namjoon grins. “We work five days a week. Sometimes you’ll have to come in on the Saturday if we have a wedding on Sunday, but it’s not often. Any questions? Comments?”   “Um…” You exchange expressions with Jungkook. “No, not really. I think we got it.”   Suddenly the older man bursts out laughing, startling you both. “You two don’t have to be so anxious! I was a student once too. Don’t they say wedding cake internships are one of the hardest ones you can take?”   “Uh.” Jungkook gingerly smiles. “We’ve heard of that.”   “Yep.” The older man bobs his head. “That’s what I thought. But don’t worry, it’ll be a lot of work, but it’ll be fun. Just don’t get on my wife’s bad side and you’ll be fine and dandy.”   “Are you talking badly about me?” Sejeong comes from the back, glaring at her husband.   “Oh, there she comes.” In spite of his playful warnings, Namjoon laughs, dimples marked on each side of his cheek. He leans over to plop a kiss at the top of her head and waltzes into the back, leaving her sighing.   “That man. Hopeless, I swear. Anyhow...I hope you both are ready!” Sejeong claps her hands together. “No time like the present to start learning and diving into it! We have a couple arriving in an hour for a consultation and I want you guys to lead. Should be easy enough!”   The two of you nod, preparing yourselves.   //   Both Namjoon and Sejeong give you a few moments to yourselves to breathe and not be overwhelmed. But you’re kind of excited. It’s a bit surreal that one moment you’re sitting in a lecture hall learning about theory and the next, you’re in the real world, about to apply all the knowledge you’ve gathered. For a while now, you’ve missed working and being more hands-on.   You glance down to your coral apron they gave you. Jungkook is in the same one and while he grumbled about not wearing much pink before, he looks cute in it. You wanted to take a picture but he didn’t let you. Self-conscious Jungkook is one you’ve seldom seen and admittedly, endearing.   “They seem really nice.” And in love. It’s pleasant to see. Even with how disgusting romance is.   It just isn’t often that you can look at a couple and not think about their inevitable doom.   “Yeah, they are. Thankfully. God knows how many strict head chefs are out there.”   You wonder what it’s like to own a business with your husband and work together all the time — though you don’t voice your question aloud. You have an inkling Jungkook would flirtatiously answer ‘that could be us’ and you don’t need to be distracted by him right now.   His presence is a distraction enough.   “How about Yuna though?” You elbow him lightly in the ribs, giving a nudge while wiggling your brows. “I think she likes you.”   Jungkook’s expression blanches. “She’s still in high school.”   “I’m just kidding—”   “And some other girl showing up is not going to stop me from liking you any less than I do,” Jungkook says nonchalantly, stating it like it’s a fact. He’s unaware of how your face heats.   You quickly take a drink of water in an attempt to cool down. Goddammit — he’s being a distraction already without you having to set him up.   “You still owe me that favour.” You clear your throat, changing the subject. “Remember? When you challenged me saying you could pipe better than I can temper chocolate.”   “I thought we called it even.” Jungkook grins, cutely with the mole dotted underneath his mouth.   “Nu-uh. That’s not fair and you know it.” You put your foot down. “We agreed the loser would have to cover for the winner when they go on break or make a mistake. And you lost, Jeon.”   “Already planning on making mistakes?”   You sulk. “No. I just want you to have my back.”   “You already have that,” Jungkook says tenderly with a smile. “And a lot more.”   Your mouth is filled with cotton. The corner of his mouth curls even more, relishing in your surprised expression. He doesn’t even bat a lash and merely looks away when the bell to the front entrance rings. “Welcome to Kim’s Wedding Catering Company.”   You tear your eyes away from Jeon Jungkook’s profile. “Do you have an appointment?”   “Yes, we do.” The woman smiles, dressed in a white beret and trench coat, her cheeks blushing. She’s accompanied by another woman in a leather jacket who’s holding her hand. “It should be under Lee.”   “You must be Sungkyung and Victoria, congratulations on your engagement.”   The both of them glance at each other, sharing giddy smiles. “Thank you.”   “Right this way.”   Jungkook leads them to one of the wooden tables, setting out a book as you grab the slices of cake on the plate from the back, all decorated and labeled. Sejeong who’s been watching at the counter gives an encouraging thumbs up.   “So your wedding is being held during the beginning of September?”   “Yes and we’re planning to cut the cake during the evening,” Sungkyung says as Jungkook jots it down on his sheet.   “Will this be an outdoor or indoor wedding?”   “We’re planning to have it outdoors in a garden.”   “That’s nice.” Jungkook smiles. “Do you have any themes in your wedding? Any colour scheme?”   “We have butterflies and we have green and purple as our colours.”   “And how many guests do you have?”   “About a hundred.”   “Okay.”   You come to the table with the long plate and two forks. Both of the women are excited, eyes lighting up as you place the cakes in front of them and take a seat beside Jungkook.    “This one is vanilla cake with buttercream. It’s simple, but a classic. This one is coconut cake with coconut cream. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting, chocolate with ganache, lemon with custard filling and fondant, strawberry with salted caramel filling and fondant, and the last one here is carrot cake with butterscotch sauce filling and chocolate buttercream icing. Take your time.”   “I really like this one,” Victoria whispers to her fiancée, fork points to carrot cake. “Or at least the icing part.”   “I prefer this one.” Sungkyung indicates the strawberry cake and takes another bite.   “We can always mix and match,” you tell them with a smile. “It’s possible to do strawberry cake with buttercream.”   “Buttercream usually tastes better than fondant, but if it’s hot outside, it might melt.” Jungkook’s brows knit together and you look at him, humming for a second.   “Well, we always put a layer of fondant over the buttercream so they also get that smooth look and we wouldn’t have to worry about melting.”   The boy nods. “Yeah, that would work.”    “That sounds really good.” The two women smile at each other. “How much would it cost?”   “Ummm…” Jungkook flips through the binder, memory failing him. He finally finds the table of all the prices on the tenth page. “For us, it depends on what kind of cake you end up choosing and how many tiers it’ll be, but it should be around four hundred to five hundred. For a hundred people, I’d recommend…..uh…”   “Three to four layers.” You finish his sentence and Jungkook looks at you gratefully.   You leave the two of them to finish up the cakes and to discuss with one another.   Sejeong who’s been waiting at the back has her compliments prepared. “Great job, you two. Couldn’t have done it better myself!”   It’s stressful to remember the details, but luckily Sejeong is merciful and allows the two of you to shadow her as she goes out to explain the designs, possible flower arrangements on the cake and discuss how they want it to look. She also goes more into detail about prices, providing the women with a write-up of what it would look like.   When the consultation is finished, there’s not a moment to breathe.   You’re ushered into the kitchen where Namjoon is working on a wedding cake.   “So I already baked these babies yesterday and let them cool down in the fridge. I’ve also made the buttercream just now. Today we crumb coat our cakes and colour fondant. Tomorrow, we’re going to cover the cakes with fondant, put dowels in and stack our tiers, and decorate, then it’s all ready for delivery! Easy, huh?”   “Umm…”   The older man laughs noisily from his chest. “I’m guessing you two know how to crumb coat cakes?”   “Yes, we do.”   “Great. Then this is all on you. Make sure not to mess up! It’s the bride and groom’s special day! People only have a wedding once...hopefully.”   There’s not any pressure whatsoever.   Namjoon leaves, coming in and out to help with his wife and niece cleaning the front and watching over your shoulder. But he has little to say to both you and Jungkook when he finds your techniques sufficient.   The cakes are placed on a turntable, bench scrapers and offset icing spatulas in hand. You add a thin layer of frosting to trap cake crumbs and prevent them from popping up in your finished cake. And while you crumb coat two layers, Jungkook does one and goes to colour fondant.   Namjoon teaches him, rolling the fondant into a ball and kneading until it’s soft and pliable. A small dot of pink is added and he kneads the colour until it’s blended.   Once you’re done with the cakes, you help Jungkook with another ball of fondant, kneading until your arms are sore. Afterwards, the two of you assist Sejeong and Yuna, organizing the shelves of baking pans, various coloured ribbons, and bins of cookie and cake cutters.   It’s tiresome, but you feel rejuvenated when they let you try some of the spare cake slices they offer. It’s delicious, melting on your palate and Namjoon jokingly quizzes both of you on what kind of icing works best with what cakes and what ingredients are in each of them.    You’d like to say you won.   They also teach you how to answer emails and phone calls, and both you and Jungkook arrange a few appointments for next week. The day is over before you’ve realized.   “Good work, you two!” Sejeong praises. “You’re very fast learners.”   “I heard you rank high at your school.” Namjoon smiles in spite of your modest protests. “I believe you know her as Miss. Kang. She speaks highly of you two and I’m not disappointed.”   “Jungkook, I heard you wanted to be a Chocolatier?” Namjoon asks and the boy is like a deer in the headlights, doe eyes rounded. He nods slowly.   “Yes, that’s my long-term goal.”   “When we have a moment then, I’ll work on something with you,” he promises with another dimpled smile and Jungkook is visibly enthused. “Anyway, I hope nothing was too overwhelming. Get a good night’s rest and we’ll continue tomorrow!”   They close up shop as the sun sets over the horizon and Yuna waves wildly, bidding Jungkook farewell. “Bye, Jungkook!”   He makes a noise, a small ‘bye’ to her before the two of you turn away after waving to the married couple. You walk down the street together, towards the bus stop where it’ll guide you home.   “That wasn’t bad.”   “Yeah.” There’s a pause. Jungkook smiles at you. “It wasn’t.”   Silence eventually falls in between the spaces.   You can feel your eye bags deepening, your bones creaking with every movement. You’re exhausted from the long day, unable to utter a single word, but the quiet that settles is comfortable rather than awkward.   Your feet are moving on their own against the pavement, the sounds of cars moving past shaping the white noise of the city. It’s a long way back home, but as you glance at Jungkook, walking alongside him with your footsteps synced together, you’re glad he’s here.   The two of you have each other for support.   You’re unknowing to how Jungkook shares the same sentiment. He takes a glimpse of you when you don’t notice, stealing glances like he’s stealing candy. The smile on his face softens.   His own words echo back to him— “I just wonder what’s more difficult,” he had hummed thoughtfully, “You trying to get me to stop liking you or me trying to make you like me.”   It occurs to Jungkook that he’s found his answer. He realizes he can’t ‘overcome’ his feelings. He can’t get over you like you think he can. 

If you rejected him, his concern of making you uncomfortable would far outweigh these simmering emotions inside of him, but you didn’t. The fact of the matter is that Jungkook knows your aversion is towards love, not him. And with such uncertainty and possibilities, it’s impossible to get over you.

It won’t work. Not when you’re you. 

So Jungkook chooses the other path — the other approach.    He makes the decision right then and there. Instead of idly standing by and allowing you to sprout nonsense and drive him even more crazy, he’s going to act. He’s going to actually do something about his feelings—    Jeon Jungkook is going to court you.

[ecrivant]

the station | annie leonhart

(annie leonhart x fem!reader)

that night, one marked by abject sin and rapture: annie’s single, inescapable memory.  she, forever haunted by this painfully raw thought of you.

c.w. – homophobic slurs

word count: 2.2k

a.n. – this is technically a reader insert but it’s honestly just an exploration of annie’s repression and sadness.  also, in general, i’m very wary of assigning gender to the reader, but the lgbt+ themes are important to this story, so annie’s love interest is a fem!reader.  i’m sorry if this excludes anyone, next piece will return to the usual gn!reader.  

very much an au + me experimenting with style.  

At the world’s marge lies a service station—carburant siphoned long ago, insides, bare.  Its skeletal façade abuts a backroad, a display of collapsing substructure succored by gusts of vagrants and drifters, cataracted from history’s view.  At one time, when you entered, the clerk would greet you from the left with a gaze that conveyed a hesitant familiarity—the type of trivial recognition that was unimportant in the moment but retrospectively haunting.  The lights within, garish halogen, were ceaseless, always alight, and only dared to die out once the ceiling caved, and the walls peeled, and the vinyl floor cratered like some artificial topography.  The edifice now no more than a nebulous memory only existing in the minds of those who ever once visited it.  

A memory nonetheless in the mind of the woman who fucks for the first time in a sedan parked behind the station, where the smell of sex and summer air and gasoline is seared into her brain as she breathes hard, lightheaded and high on ecstasy and fear. She feels her own death, a quiet specter which guides the touch of her lover.  Her burning skin; the eroticism of demise, destruction.  The nocturnal breeze gasps with her.

She offers to drive you home.  You—flushed and debauched, breasts exposed.  Eying her intensely.  You refuse.

“I can walk.”

She laughs.  Your name on her lips, a carnal, depraved prayer, “We don’t even know where we are.”

She is corrected. Curt.

“You don’t.”

She is gored, laid open and vulnerable and bare for this stranger who parts without another word. She watches you go, ambling towards the unlit dirt road, swallowed by a beastly darkness.  The vehicle, suffused by an amorous smog, windows opaque.  Her organs all but spill onto the floor, mixing with dust and dog hair and garbage and an old takeaway cup that was always there no matter how many times she threw it away.  

She slinks into the station and asks for a pack of cigarettes.  She pays in coins, a button among them, but the cashier never notices.

At home.

“Mama’s been askin’ ‘bout you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re gonna get an earful tomorrow.”

She’s already halfway up the stairs.  They moan beneath her.  

“She thinks you’ve been spending too much time with that Eren boy.  Is that where you was tonight?”

The stairs sound like you. Everything sounds like you—the gasp of a closing door, the sordid exhale of a creaking bedframe.  The sweat on her face: a lover’s curious tongue.

—

“Pull off here, ya’re low on gas.”

Prick prick pricks of fear smart on her skin.  Mama knows. The station, the unholy consecration. Mama knows.  This car, this place.  Mama knows.  Her brother in the back, resting on the shadow of his sister’s bare figure.  The pop of the fuel door says dyke.  The crack of the gas nozzle trigger says fag. The unseen eyes that bore through her say queer.  She enters the station to pay.  The clerk, a gaze of recognition—the only one who knows of her transgressions.  

—

She is married. Cheers to the happy couple.  She cries on her wedding night, tears staining bedsheets—her own virginal blood.  He touches her, stagnant, pale skin collied by bereft contact.  She only comes when she thinks of the station.

—

She could tell.  She could tell him and free herself, and then the kid’ll wonder why Mommy’s never around and Daddy’s a druggie and a drunk and never leaves the house anymore and the kid’ll make his way through the social services system until he’s beaten and cracked and broken like Mama’s old doll collection smashed against the wall and he puts a bullet in his head before he turns eighteen.  No, she could never tell.

—

Thanksgiving.  She stares at her sister-in-law—a city girl, with heavy lids and blush-dusted cheeks and a pronounced cupid’s bow.  The eyes of a hunter, the lascivious gaze of a she-wolf.  Her husband comments on how well they seem to get along.  

—

A loneliness begotten from her own bones, born from emptiness and the inimitable way she and death caressed all those years ago.  She only has a name to utter, breathless, when thoughts of you tenant her mind.  The first and the only fuck was truly a stranger, all but nameless in memory.  

—

Her mother’s funeral. An apathetic and unfamiliar affair. People she doesn’t know.  Her brother, his wife, their child.  Her husband, her child, her.  She could not be more distant.

Her childhood home smells sweetly of tobacco and cardamom.  

Indifference during the wake mistaken by the others for numbness.  She feels no need to mourn—her mother lived and died uneventfully, and that was it.  

“Mommy, are Grandma’s dolls going away?”

“I don’t know, we’ll see.”

“Do you think I can keep one?”

The boy has his eyes fixed on one in particular, his implicit selection.  The one that has your eyes.  The one whose gaze makes her squirm.  Mama knows.

“I don’t know, we’ll see.”

—

She sneaks away from the house with a pack of her mother’s cigarettes, the box crumpled and stained at the edges and the tubes inside wrinkled and mildewed, emitting a stench that filled her with inexplicable nostalgia.  It brings to mind her unshakable compulsion to eat cigarettes, to feel the flakes of tobacco coat the inside of her mouth like the ground dregs in a cup of cheap coffee.  She lights one instead, pushing the thought aside—if she was to ever eat one, she fears she would not be able to stop.  The low hiss of her inhalations on the ember briefly joins the sonic ambience.  She sits in her car and smokes and occasionally flicks ash outside of her window with shaking hands.  Rancid and familiar aftertaste.  Thick dust clouds kicked up by her car tires coalesce with her hazy exhalations as she drives nowhere.  Not nowhere. She needs gas.

—

The station still stands as it had before, insusceptible to time.  Always seemingly aged.  Covered in an ever-present grime.  She gets out and leans against her car and drags on her cigarette, the virulent inhalations scratching her lungs.  The road on which you disappeared all those years ago looked profoundly unremarkable during the day—just a long, dirt road in a town wholly comprised of long, dirt roads. The heat shimmers above the ground, and the afternoon sun drapes itself across her skin, and the hot breeze drags its fingertips through her hair like a lover you’d meet behind a bar—the same who would abandon that perpetually lit cigarette between her lips in exchange for her mouth on yours.

Her last drag—she drops the butt and crushes it underfoot.  

She sits in her car and smokes the rest of the pack—in her eyes, the final remnants of her mother.

She waits in the parking lot.  As if her presence alone would invoke some bygone wraith.  

Her hand reaches under her dress, between her legs, and she is touching herself to the pervasive miasma of summer breeze and carburant, and the darkness of closed eyes almost feels like the night, and her frantic digital movements are arrant pleasure until they’re not; she stops and is suddenly crying, and her thoughts are occluded by her mother’s pale, dead face, and she realizes that Mama’s death, mundane as it was, represents the furthest she’s been from that singular night years ago which was so verily marked by sin and rapture; the one that has haunted her and will continue to haunt her until she herself dies an uneventful death after an uneventful life, and her child thinks of her passing as she does her own mother’s: a nonevent among nonevents.  

She is met with understanding eyes as she returns to the wake crying.  

—

She moves to the city with husband and child.  Suburbia forgone.  The apartment is small and cramped and reminiscent of her sister-in-law’s.  The adjacent view from the living-room window is an identical high-rise—ten stories of the same brick and dirty-white AC units. She is filled with an ineffable sadness as she stares at the spare greenery in streets below, confined to plots of dry soil surrounded by cracked and potholed pavement.

Her sleeplessness often leads her to the living room long after the apartment falls to silence.  One night, she watches, captivated, as a couple in the adjacent apartment fucks on a couch, curtains wide open and shame forgotten.  The man, hovering above a body obstructed, is suddenly flipped on his back and mounted by his lover, and she swears this woman, breasts bobbing, and face marked by a concentrated intensity and unusually devoid of pleasure, looks like you.  

—

Two years in the city bypass her as if she were already dead.  The tenant who resembled you moved out the year prior.  

—

She sits in a booth sequestered in the corner of a dark and begrimed barroom.  Alone for the night.  Her husband no longer questions her bouts of silence and absences from the house and disdain for intimacy; her child, accustomed to fissure.  

She ignites a cigarette, her lukewarm liquor no longer of interest, and no one stops her.  She is indifferent to the other patrons, who were, at this point in the night, nothing more than hazy and incorporeal forms populating the shadows.

The chime of the door—jarring and tangible—cuts through the muted atmosphere and demands the attention of those there to give it.  Another specter drifts to the bar.  A woman shouldering something—a fact elucidated by a hunched posture and a quiet request for three fingers of scotch.  

And then the woman turns, and Annie sees her face.  

And suddenly she is collapsed on the scum-covered tile of the bar’s bathroom floor, hurling upchuck into the toilet.  That woman had your face—she is not you, at least not anymore, as Annie is no longer the girl who fucked and died in that gas station parking lot years ago.  But that woman had your face.  And she looked at Annie with your eyes, melancholic eyes which held no recognition for her, and turned away in the same movement.  Less than a look—a glance.  But that woman had your face.  And Annie had not seen it again before she hied to the bathroom to regurgitate four drinks and years of accrued and bilious agony.  

The bathroom door swings open.  Groaning hinges.  She knows it’s that woman who has callously co-opted your likeness.

She enters the stall next to her and pisses and flushes the toilet whose water drains slowly and weakly, and the sounds of the sink are harsh and cacophonous against the tile walls. Steps towards the exit suddenly pause. A knock on the stall door.  Your voice asks if she is alright—a voice unheard for decades, last encountered in a low, debauched whisper against her skin.

She heaves, again, but nothing is left to expel; she coughs and spits and does not answer.

“Can I at least help you get home?”

The question looms above her, looped and tied like a noose.  

“I can walk.”

A laugh.  Dry, unfamiliar, never heard.  It’s harsh and barking; a warning.  

She is corrected, curt: “You can barely stand.”

She had long been unacquainted with fear, now more often than not consumed by a vacant numbness, and she admittedly did not miss it.  It was ugly and pervasive and bore deep within her with debilitating potency.  She could do nothing but sit on the disgusting tile floor with body supported on yellowed porcelain and wait.  

She imagines she allows herself to believe this woman is you—you, as you were, unchanged—and opens the door. And you, being unchanged, ask if she would like to come home with you.  And she, apparently the same as well, says yes.  And back at your apartment, cluttered and cramped yet simultaneously vacant, you spare no time backing her into the bedroom, lips tethered to hers in lurid predation.  Touches that are lustful and intimate and familiar only to her.  She cannot bring herself to care that you do not remember her—your breath on her neck and your incursive touch efface all thoughts, good or bad.  She wants you on top of her, around her, within her, and you oblige like some prurient altruist.  Her coming is purgative and cathartic, and the pleasure of that night at the station feels archaic and antiquated in the face of this wholly new gratification, heighted by an immense and prolonged yearning.  And this time, after you are both finished, you do not part and neither does she, and she embraces you in a way that feels intrinsic, and you ask her to stay the night. And she does not think of her husband and child as she says yes.  And she does not think of her husband and child as she agrees to spend the next day with you, as she dances with you in your living room, finally and only feeling held and loved.  Finally, finally, finally.  

—

But Annie says nothing. And the woman—not you, but an apparition—softly and finally knocks on the door with the side of her fist, unfazed, and walks out of the bathroom.  And even now, as she slumps further and shuts her eyes and clutches her head, Annie can only think of that fucking gas station.  

—

hi there!  thank you so much for reading; i hope you enjoyed this piece.  it’s a little different than my other stuff, not drastically so, but still different.  i think i like it, though.

thank you to the anon who suggested I write something for annie, i really appreciate the request.  i have another request in the pipeline for reiner, so expect a piece for him soon. 

as always, feedback and criticism are very much appreciated!  feel free to drop in and request something if you want.

taglist: @flam3bird

[hanbintms]

            it  is  eye  ,  kofi  ,  back  on  your  dash  with  my  newest  child  !  as  a  reminder  :  i’m  twenty4  ,  prefer  she / her  or  they / them  pronouns  ,  and  i  reside  in  the  est  timezone  !  the  muse  that  i  have  flowing  for  hanbin  is  truly  unmatched  even  though  i  literally  came  up  with  him  within  like  . . .  three  hours  ,  no  kidding  .  that  being  said  ,  he’s  a  brand  new  muse  and  i  can’t  wait  to  plot  with  everyone  once  again  (  or  for  the  first  time  !  )  i  won’t  talk  your  ears  off  as  i  know  this  intro  might  get  a  little  long  ,  but  aside  from  that  ,  can’t  wait  to  write  hanbin  with  ya’ll  !

            (  SONG  KANG , THIRTY , CIS  MAN , HE / HIM  )  *  hey  ,  i’m  looking  for  the  office  of  HANBIN  KOO  .  they’re  the  EMPLOYEE  /  IN - HOUSE  CHEF  who’s  known  around  the  office  as  THE  EPICURE  ,  if  that  helps  ?  not  to  be  a  gossip  ,  but  i’ve  heard  that  they’re  AFFABLE  but  UNCOUTH  ,  is  that  true  ?  i  also  heard  that  they’re  the  one  who  THREW  ICED  TEA  AT  HIS  EX  IN  THE  LOBBY  .  anyways  ,  here’s  the  coffee  they  ordered  .

statistics.

            name  :  koo  hanbin  .  nicknames  :  han  ,  hannie  ,  hanbinie  ,  +  binnie  .  age  +  date  of  birth  :  thirty  +  january  9th,  1991  .  zodiac  :  capricorn  .  moral  alignment  :  true  neutral  .  gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he / him / his .  place  of  birth  :  busan  ,  south  korea  .  place  of  residence  :  west  village  ,  new  york  city  ,  new  york  .  orientation  :  bisexual  biromantic  .  occupation  :  in  house  chef  and  internet  personality  .  nationality  :  korean  (  holds  american  citizenship  )  .  ethnicity  :  korean  .  language(s)  spoken  :  korean  ,  english  ,  conversational  italian  ,  and  conversational  japanese  .

background.

            koo  hanbin’s  life  was  relatively  normal  when  he  was  born  .  his  mom  ,  koo  seonghwa  ,  worked  as  a  nurse  in  the  pediatric  department  of  a  local  hospital  in  busan  while  his  father  ,  koo  kyuchul  ,  was  an  office  worker  .  they  weren’t  the  richest  family  ,  nowhere  near  it  ,  but  the  koo  family  made  it  work  .  hanbin  has  more  memories  of  being  with  his  grandparents  more  often  than  his  parents  simply  because  of  their  demanding  careers ,  but  that’s  not  to  say  that  they  weren’t  loving  and  attentive  parents  when  they  had  time  to  be  with  their  only  son  .  

             however  ,  life  began  to  change  for  him  when  was  six  years  old  .  suddenly  ,  the  money  began  to  dwindle  as  quickly  as  it  was  brought  in  .  the  refrigerator  wasn’t  full  unless  seonghwa’s  mother  would  make  some  things  for  them  ,  and  kyuchul  was  coming  home  later  and  later  .  seonghwa  began  to  work  harder  in  an  attempt  to  break  even  ,  but  she  never  seemed  to  get  her  head  above  water  .  she’d  confront  her  husband  about  the  large  sums  of  money  that  would  disappear  from  their  account  ,  but  he  always  blamed  it  on  higher  bills  ,  raised  rent  ,  or  sudden  payments  that  he  had  to  make  .  it  never  made  any  sense  ,  but  seonghwa  started  a  separate  account  to  ensure  their  son  could  at  least  have  food  on  the  table  and  clothes  for  school  .

            the  next  couple  of  years  go  by  and  the  money  situation  worsens  ,  with  seonghwa  getting  to  her  wits  end  .  she  spends  more  time  with  hanbin  at  her  parents’  place  ,  sleeping  with  her  son  in  her  old  bedroom  and  hoping  he  doesn’t  hear  her  cry  at  night  .  she  struggles  to  understand  why  her  husband  is  keeping  secrets  from  her  ,  especially  as  they’ve  been  married  happily  for  the  last  eleven  years  ,  but  it  takes  some  tough  love  from  her  mother  to  get  seonghwa  to  pick  herself  up  .  so  ,  she  decides  to  confront  her  husband  one  night  when  she  finds  out  his  location  from  one  of  his  co - workers  ,  and  she’s  devastated  .  seonghwa  finds  kyuchul  with  a  younger  woman  ,  gambling  away  her  hard  earned  money  .  like  a  scene  out  of  a  drama  ,  seonghwa  kicks  her  husband  where  the  sun  doesn’t  shine  and  promptly  dragged  the  other  woman  outside  to  wack  her  upside  the  head  with  her  purse  .  seonghwa  was  hurt  ,  but  she  had  finally  gotten  answers  ,  and  she  wasn’t  going  to  be  embarrassed  like  this  ever  again  .

            so  ,  seonghwa  and  hanbin  permanently  move  in  with  her  parents  ,  and  it  takes  some  time  for  seonghwa  to  get  over  kyuchul  .  she  focuses  on  her  child  and  her  job  .  from  the  age  of  ten  ,  hanbin  began  spending  more  time  with  his  grandparents  in  their  small  ,  but  popular  barbecue  meat  restaurant  .  when  he  finishes  his  homework  ,  he  helps  his  grandparents  take  orders  ,  and  he  slowly  begins  to  work  the  kitchen  as  he  gets  older  .  his  grandparents  soon  leave  the  kitchen  work  to  him  as  they  get  up  in  age  ,  and  hanbin  runs  the  kitchen  as  if  he’d  been  doing  it  for  over  twenty  years  .  however  ,  when  he  graduates  from  high  school  ,  hanbin  decides  to  spread  his  wings  .  over  the  last  twelve  years  or  so  ,  hanbin  honed  his  cooking  skills  from  his  grandfather  and  spent  most  of  his  childhood  in  the  kitchen  ,  so  his  grandparents  passed  their  restaurant  down  to  seonghwa’s  brother  ,  and  hanbin  left  for  new  york  .

            eighteen  years  old  and  with  only  enough  money  to  get  a  small  sublet  ,  he  knew  he  needed  to  find  a  job  pronto  .  without  formal  kitchen  training  ,  hanbin  would  often  get  turned  away  from  jobs  (  because  he  was  better  than  a  busboy  !  )  and  eventually  ,  the  fates  was  on  his  side  .  he  forced  his  way  into  the  kitchen  of  a  popular  italian  restaurant  ,  immediately  snagging  the  title  of  junior  chef  .  hanbin  ,  a  fast  learner  with  even  faster  knife  skills  ,  easily  works  his  way  up  the  ranks  within  the  restaurant  .  within  six  years  ,  hanbin  becomes  head  chef  and  is  a  force  to  be  reckoned  with  in  the  kitchen  .  although  his  income  changes  significantly  ,  hanbin  starts  a  youtube  channel  in  hopes  of  sharing  his  love  for  food  and  cooking  .  within  a  year  ,  his  following  grows  substantially  ,  and  he’s  approached  to  broaden  his  efforts  by  working  at  masters  international  .

at masters.

hanbin  has  been  at  masters  for  five  years  .  he  started  working  here  after  his  youtube  channel  expanded  ,  and  he  was  approached  to  create  his  own  cooking  content  for  masters’  youtube  channel  .  

basically  ,  he  has  his  own  version  of  test  kitchen  ,  but  it’s  not  really  the  same  thing  .  he  makes  recipes  for  holidays  ,  celebrations  ,  and  is  constantly  showing  how  to  make  traditional  korean  dishes  (  would  not  be  surprised  if  he  has  a  ‘  cooking  with  my  mom  !  ’  type  series  )  .

gives  food  tips  too  like  which  wines  pair  best  with  certain  foods  or  how  to  make  the  most  out  of  your  first  hosting  gig  .  probably  has  a  video  where  he  shares  his  cooking  playlist  because  he  wants  you  to  get  in  the  mood  😌  .

probably  came  up  with  the  special  lunch  for  Daddy  Masters™  but  gets  ticked  when  he’s  asked  to  cook  it  because  does  that  man  know  a  schedule  ?  probably  not  .  [  ‘  we  were  on  a  break  !  ’  specifically  ,  hanbin2   was  on  his  lunch  break  .  ] 

is  it  true  that  he  threw  an  iced  tea  in  his  ex’s  face  ?  absolutely  ,  and  he  has  no  problem  admitting  it  lmao  .  who  was  said  ex  ?  i  guess  we’ll  never  know  [  this  a  number  one  champion  sound  ]  .

probably  well  received  around  the  office  but  i  wouldn’t  be  surprised  if  people  disliked  him  .  it  could  be  his  off  putting  persona  or  honestly  the  simple  fact  that  he’s  got  a  lot  of  sass  and  no  ass  .

headcanons.

you  can  read  a  full  list  of  headcanons  HERE  ;  below  is  an  abridged  version  .

has  a  gyeongsang  dialect  from  living  in  busan  ,  and  honestly  . . .  that’s  hot  .  so  ,  when  he  speaks  in  korean  it’s  rather  strong  and  aggressive  /  pitch  is  vastly  different  from  other  parts  of  korea  .  

i  literally  have  no�� idea  how  to  explain  his  personality  other  than  by  using  his  moral  alignment  :  true  neutral  .  he’s  kinda  that  guy  who  knows  everything  but  won’t  tell  you  that  he  does  ?  did  he  eavesdrop  ?  maybe  ,  but  he  won’t  tell  you  that  .  he’s  largely  indifferent  to  a  lot  of  what  happens  around  masters  and  maybe  it’s  because  he’s  been  here  for  half  a  decade  ;  he’ll  just  make  sure  you  drink  water  if  you’re  drunk  and  crying  .

a  Dog  Father™  to  a  little  re:  big  goldendoodle  named  duri  .  he  is  most  definitely  judging  you  and  can  often  be  found  sunbathing  in  that  solarium  .  

a  very  simple  man  when  it  comes  to  his  coffee  :  caffè  americano  or  an  espresso  macchiato  please  .  and  don’t  forget  the  butter  croissant  !

mostly  expressionless  . . .  like  i  really  have  no  idea  how  to  explain  how  he  looks  at  people  because  i  feel  that  stoic  is  too  harsh  of  a  word  .  if  you  wanna  know  how  he  feels  though  ,  he  has  extremely  expressive  eyes  .

he  won’t  admit  it  but  he  loves  hosting  .  office  potluck  ?  he’s  your  guy  .  having  a  conference  ?  he’ll  make  your  snacks  .  if  you’re  coming  over  he’ll  make  a  charcuterie  board  and  will  lie  saying  he  made  it  with  some  stuff  he  had  on  hand  (  but  that’s  a  lie  ,  he  went  to  the  grocery  store  and  obsessed  over  it  for  a  solid  three  hours  )  .

finds  joy  in  the  mundane  .  some  people  might  think  he’s  weird  because  he  loves  grocery  shopping  ,  and  heavily  judges  people’s  carts  because  processed  food  ?  yuck  !  he  won’t  say  that  to  your  face  though  he’ll  just  be  like  ‘  are  you  sure  you  wanna  buy  that  ?  ’  and  will  sneakily  replace  your  frozen  pizza  with  pizza  ingredients  hehe  .

that  being  said  don’t  take  him  grocery  shopping  with  you  NFUDNSFDS  .  he  gets  ticked  about  food  waste  ,  and  those  who  don’t  use  reusable  bags  .   probably  has  a  lil  garden  at  his  place  and  composts  !  is  angry  about  people  calling  a  chunk  of  cauliflower  a  steak  (  in  other  words  ,  don’t  to  it  )  !

wanted connections.

DISCLAIMER  :  i  will  not  be  plotting  anything  romantic  with  characters  under  the  age  of  twenty - five  due  to  his  age  !

ONE  TRUE  LOVE  :  this  is  open  to  literally  anyone  ,  preferably  like  ,  28  to  30  but  we  can  talk  details  .  truly  ,  they’re  his  one  true  love  as  the  title  states  ,  and  i  like  to  believe  that  they  were  a  really  happy  couple  who  had  a  meet - cute  .  they  moved  in  together  and  things  were  great  ,  but  they  broke  up  when  they  felt  a  mutual  dissolve  in  their  relationship  .  that  being  said  ,  they’re  good  friends  now  !

BEST  FRIEND  :  who  wouldn’t  love  a  best  friend  .  basically  ,  they  get  along  well  ,  and  they  are  used  to  sung’s  non - verbal  communication  NVJCNXJV  .  it’d  be  really  fun  if  they  had  totally  different  personalities  but  somehow  they  managed  to  click  .  TAKEN  BY  GRIFFIN  OLSON  .

TASTE  TESTER  :  someone  who  he  calls  on  to  often  try  his  food  at  the  office  .  they  possibly  will  appear  in  his  videos  on  masters’  youtube  channel  ,  so  i  think  a  relationship  based  around  food  would  be  really  fun  !  TAKEN  BY  KENNEDY  CRAWFORD  /  SORAYA  HATHAWAY  .

HORN  DOGS  (  DEROGATORY  )  :  i  have  no  other  name  for  this  plot  but  i’m  thinking  two  people  who  cannot  keep  their  hands  off  of  one  another  .  i’m  talking  sneaky  touches  in  the  elevator  ,  secret  hook  ups  in  the  seventh  floor  bathroom  ,  quick  makeouts  and  nearly  getting  caught  .  bonus  points  if  people  around  the  office  don’t  believe  they’re  Banging™  because  their  personalities  are  so  different  .  

CRUSH  :  also  known  as  ,  someone  having  a  crush  on  him  ,  but  he  sees  them  as  a  friend  (  or  even  worse  ,  like  a  younger  sibling  )  .  TAKEN  BY  AYLIN  SAHIN  .

PLATONIC  SOULMATE  :  best  friends  ,  but  make  it  sentimental  .  they  are  thicker  than  thieves  ,  get  on  each  other’s  nerves  ,  but  they  don’t  know  what  they’d  do  without  the  other  .  finish  each  other’s  sentences  (  and  sandwiches  .  sung  will  finish  it  )  and  are  borderline  like  an  old  married  couple  with  the  way  they  act  .

that’s  all  i  got  now  but  i’ve  reblogged  some  posts  that  can  be  found  HERE  and  i’m  down  to  fill  any  wcs  that  you  may  have  as  well  !