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neon-junkie · 4 years ago

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The Wolf

Summary: You can't help that you're unaware of the thick scent you're letting off. But Flaco is aware. Flaco is well aware and he's going to do something about it.

Pairing: Flaco Hernández x f!Reader

Word Count: 3817

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Slight A/B/O/ dynamics, Marking, Manhandling, Creampies, Scenting, Pred/Prey, Height differences, Size kink, Multiple orgasms, Knotting, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Mating.

Notes: Ugh, another Flaco fic?? YES. I've always had a pred/prey vibe from big Flaco, but that vibe went off the rails during that cutscene where Flaco calls himself 'the wolf,' so I just HAD to write this ;:)

It came to you as a surprise when Flaco told you that he'd be joining you for today's mission. "I'm bored and staying in this cabin is driving me crazy," he explained whilst shoving his knife into its holster and shooing you out the cabin, following closely behind. You had no idea that he even owned a horse, who happened to be hitched in the forest behind his cabin this whole time; he's just as stocky as Flaco with thick fur keeping his hooves warm. Flaco seemed to be in a rush today, despite knowing that the mountain men you were going after wouldn't be leaving any time soon. "Have you found those tracks? Come on, let's go. I've found some here but we can't split up. C'mon, hurry up," he'd barked over and over, making your brows furrow. For once, Flaco was being annoying, he seemed on edge, like something was getting under his skin and he just couldn't shake it off. The first victims had been found and you and Flaco took cover behind a boulder on the other side of the river. Of course, you were intrigued to see how legendary his skills were. He assumed that you'd be taking the first shot, but once he saw the way you were crouched patiently beside him, looking up at him with excitement in your eyes, he felt his ego filling up and just had to impress you.

"Oh, you want to see what old Flaco can do with this thing, huh?" Flaco said as he lined up his rifle. "Watch and learn, chiquita." He took his time to shoot, clearly irritated at something; his finger continued to brush over the trigger but struggled to pull it, his eyes often locking on to yours as embarrassment began to cross his face. He missed. And he continued to miss almost all of his shots, growing more irritated by the second. By the time you found the last victims, Flaco had stormed ahead up the mountain with his sawn-off shotgun, blowing open the chests of those men. That's what they deserve for stealing off him. The ride back was almost silent. You had opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, only managing to say "are" when Flaco had cut you off and quietly mumbled "I'm fine," dipping his head down so the brim of his sombrero covered most of his face. "I wasn't expecting you to be the one to save my ass," Flaco told you as you both entered his cabin, stomping off the snow on your boots then stretching your hands out over the fire. You noticed that Flaco didn't go over to his usual place, instead, he leaned back against the pole in the middle of the room. His arms were crossed, eyes darting around the room before flicking them over to meet yours. "What's wrong?" you asked him. You thought he'd go on a tangent about whatever was winding him up, he's just an old man who loves to moan about everything and you enjoy it, though you have to hold back your laughter as he gets upset over the littlest things. "You," Flaco had replied, making your eyes go wide as you straightened up your back. You opened your mouth to begin apologizing for whatever you must have done wrong, but Flaco waved his hand before returning it to his crossed arms. "It's not your fault, you can't help it. Hell, you're probably not even aware of it," Flaco grumbled. Flaco stood up from his leaning position, taking a step over to you as he relaxed his hands by his sides. You turned slightly, moving a step away from the fire, your toes almost stepping on Flacos as you stand in front of him. That's where you are now, awkwardly standing there, looking up at a man twice the size of you. He's not exactly scowling, his brows are always slightly furrowed and he always has that pissed off expression, but you notice that there's definitely concentration in his face as he studies you. "You don't know what's wrong, do you?" Flaco questions. You shake your head innocently, worried that this is it; Flaco's finally fed up with you and is planning how to finish you off. "Hmm. As I said, you're probably not even aware," Flaco grumbles, walking past you and over to the door. He pushes his foot against it, jamming it fully shut and locking it. Has there always been a lock? You've never noticed that before? Your stomach begins to turn as Flaco turns back to you. Why did he lock the door? And why are you taking a few small steps back the more he comes towards you? He looks menacing, this giant of a man who's taking his time to pace over to you. Your ass bumps against something and you turn to see that you're now leaning back against his table with nowhere else to go. As you turn back, your gaze meets Flaco's who's almost got his chest pressed against yours. "I'm not going to hurt you," he tells you in a surprisingly soft voice, well aware of your panicked expression. "Chiquita, calm down. Flaco just wants to help," he tells you, calming your nerves. "What is it?" you ask him, still running through every recent interaction to pick out anything that might have upset him, but you find nothing. Flaco goes to dip his head down to speak more directly to you but he quickly straightens his back up, nostrils flaring as he looks around the room. He's got that irritated expression again, something's clearly still crawling under his skin. Flaco turns back to you and grumbles "you stink." Was that it? Did you smell? Was he so worked up because you hadn't had a bath today? You were a clean person, bathing regularly for somebody who's almost always on the road, but it clearly wasn't good enough for Flaco. He notices the way your head is tilting to the side and corrects himself. "I mean, you don't stink... you're clean, but..." Flaco attempts to explain, his hands moving as he talks. "That smell you're letting off, it's... distracting. I haven't smelt anything like that in such a long time, mostly because I never get any visitors up here, especially not ones who are clearly in heat," Flaco tells you, resting one hand gently on your hip as he speaks down to you. In heat? Oh shit. Your supplements had worn off without you somehow noticing, but Flaco had noticed. Flaco had definitely noticed. And it had been distracting him this whole time. That explains why he seemed so eager to get out of this little cabin with you, you were probably stinking up the room when you innocently came asking for more work. And he couldn't focus on any of his shots as you were stood beside him the whole time, batting your lashes at him as if nothing was wrong. Flaco notices how you're piecing everything together, finally understanding that your smell has been the thing under his skin this whole time. "As I said, you were probably not aware. Those supplements can really mess up your own sense of smell, huh?" Flaco says with a gentle laugh. You have no idea how he's aware that you were taking supplements, but it's not hard to work out if you're so unaware of your own scent. "Yeah, I didn't know. Sorry," you tell him. You were well aware of his hand on your hip, but you'd only just realized how big it felt on you, almost as if he could wrap both of his hands around you. It's probably your heat warping your sense of reality, but you can't admit that it's not a nice feeling. A very nice feeling, that feeling growing even more as you look back up at Flaco and meet his warm amber eyes. "You're not going to calm down, are you?" Flaco asks as he twitches his nose. He's clearly trying to hold himself together, suppressing the urge to scoop you up and fix that problem between your legs himself. You're surprised he has so much self-control as other men that you've met in the past would have pounced on you the second you walked in all those hours ago. "I-" you go to speak, but a feeling between your legs cuts you off. Flaco's pushed his thigh between your legs, settling it gently against your crotch, and you find your hips slowly rutting against it. Your arousal is refusing to go down, your scent stinking up the room and you're finally aware of how badly you smell. Flaco's at his limit, tightening his grip on your hip as his other hand comes up to remove his hat, chucking it over to the chair he always sits on. Surprisingly warm lips are pressed against your neck, his moustache brushing against your skin in such a way that your senses begin to heighten. Your body feels so sensitive, picking up on every little thing Flaco does as you continue to rut against his thigh. Flaco bites down on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and the whimper you let out makes his head spin and his cock throb in his pants. "I'm going to take you," Flaco grumbles against you as he continues to kiss along your neck. "I haven't felt like this in so long. You think you can just waltz in here, stinking up the place, and expect old Flaco not to fill you up, eh?" Another hand on your hip cuts off whatever you were about to reply, and Flaco begins rolling your hips for you, grinding your crotch down hard on his thigh. The seam of your pants is rutting against your clit aggressively, building your orgasm the more he ruts you. Another mark is left on your neck, followed by a trail more; he's marking you, letting everybody know that you're his, that you belong to the Terror of the Grizzlies. And there isn't a single soul out there who would risk trying to snatch you away from such a man. Flacos head lifts up so he can finally kiss you, hungrily licking and nipping at your lips, turning them redder the more he kisses you. You break the kiss with a whimper, your head leaning forward to mewl in the curve of his neck as you grip onto his thick fur coat. "Good girl," Flaco praises you in such a perfectly husk voice that it pushes you over the edge, soaking your pants and dripping onto Flacos as you cum on his thigh. Flaco moves one of his hands off your hip so he can begin to palm at his own erection, and you catch the sight in the corner of your eye. He's just as thick as you thought, his cock pressed deliciously against the tight fabric of his pants. "You like what you see?" Flaco asks with a chuckle, noticing the way you're hungrily staring. at him. "Come on," Flaco says as he moves his thigh from you, pulling you over to the bed. "Get undressed," Flaco orders you, turning his attention to the fire. He chucks another log on it, trying to keep his cabin warm, despite it already being toasty in here. Flaco turns to see you pulling your undergarments off, letting them slip down your legs and fall to the floor. He licks his lips at the sight, yourself in the nude waiting patiently for his next command. Flaco kisses you again as he lays you down, your head settling on the pillow. His hands trail gently over your body, admiring every bump and curve, brushing over your nipples, and kneading at your thighs. He pulls off his gloves, chucking them to the floor, then runs his middle and trigger finger over your folds, chuckling as he admires how soaked you are. The sensation of your heat becomes painfully obvious the second Flaco touches you down there, your thighs instantly twitching as he continues to run his fingertips across your folds. You only have to sigh his name once for him to realize how desperate you are, sinking his fingers into you, two of them at the same time as he knows you can take it. They curl deliciously, almost instantly finding your g-spot. He massages the pads of his fingers over that spot, enjoying the way you squirm underneath him, your scent almost clouding his vision as his own cock throbs in his pants. "Mierda," Flaco sighs as you let out a whimper that makes his head spin. "I need to be inside of you," he announces as he slips his fingers from you, leaving you empty for a few short moments. You shuffle up onto your elbows, watching Flaco unbutton his pants and pull his throbbing length out. He's just as gorgeous as you imagined, his length agonizingly thick with a soft red tip, precum already trailing down your shaft. He's in too much of a rush to remove any more of his clothes, but the image of him fully clothed whilst you're in the nude is playing on that prey instinct inside of you. Flaco places one of his large paws on your hips, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he begins to push his thick member into you. He's almost painful, making you gasp and moan as he slowly slides in, his eyes fixated on watching his length disappear inside of you. Once he's fully sheathed inside of you, he holds himself there for a few moments, letting out heavy pants as praise begins to flow from his lips. "Good girl. Taking me all the way in on your first go. That's my girl, isn't it?" Flaco mutters, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tries to hold back from thrusting into you, knowing that you need a few seconds to get used to his size. Flaco knows you're ready when you begin to whimper beneath him. He pulls his cock almost all the way out and slams down into you, pushing the air from your lungs, making your eyes scrunch shut as you let out a sound that makes Flacos instincts spin. He doesn't bother with slow and tender thrusts; he needs you, and he needs you now. His length begins to pump into you, continuing to push those sounds from you. Flaco has needed you the second you stumbled into his cabin, only he's been able to suppress those feelings, up until your scent accidentally flared up earlier. Your hands trail over his body, gripping onto his biceps, clinging onto his bandoliers, settling around his neck. You're a whimpering mess beneath him and Flaco both loves and hates the sight. "Stop squirming," he mutters as he continues thrusting into you. "Be good for me and take it, alright?" he orders. Flaco lets out a chuckle as he feels your walls clench around him from the way he's speaking to you. The room is already too hot for you even though you're in the nude, but you've noticed the way Flaco's beginning to sweat. He doesn't stop his thrusting as he straightens up his back and begins to swing his bandoliers over his shoulders, chucking them to the floor, eventually followed by his coat. He almost ripped his coat off, quickly becoming frustrated by all the fastenings, but he managed to eventually undo it. Flaco is left in his white undershirt and green bandana, his body radiating more heat than you've ever felt. He dips back down, towering his body over you, his head leaning down to continue leaving marks along your neck. Flaco had always told himself that he'd never mark anybody again, especially not in his 'old' age, but it's hard not to make you his own when you're mewling underneath him. "Mierda," Flaco grumbles again, leaving his head in the curve of your neck. His cock feels heavy, his balls slapping against you with every thrust; you know he's close. "I need to cum inside of you, alright? But I won't be giving you any little ones, I'll make sure of it," Flaco tells you as he dips his head up to meet yours, planting a quick kiss to your lips as he speaks. You've heard that some men are able to do this though you always doubted it, but you trust Flaco with your life, so you trust his word. Once you've managed to nod in agreement, Flaco grins and picks up the pace, making you whimper again as you had no idea he could go that fast. He's complained about his age before, saying his bones ache and his joints feel creeky, but you had no idea that when fueled by lust, Flaco could ignore his age and fuck like this. It boosts your ego, knowing you're the one who's turned him into this beast of a man. Flaco lets out a choked moan as he cums, filling you to the brim, making your walls tighten around him just from the sensation. He rests his head on your chest, panting and moaning, letting out a string of phrases in his mother tongue, though you're unsure of what he's saying. He whimpers against you for a good few moments, collecting himself and eventually lifting his head off your chest so his eyes can meet yours. Flaco dips his head down to kiss you, his breaths are still heavy but not enough to distract the kiss. As he breaks away, he sits upright and peels his shirt off after unfastening his bandana, throwing them to the floor. He finally reveals his stocky build to you, well-toned muscles with a thick coat of chest hair that trails down to his stomach and settles around the base of his cock. He leans down to kiss you again, moving his hands from your hips to wrap your legs around your waist. You know this isn't over. "I'm not done with you yet," Flaco confirms, large paws wrapping around your waist as Flaco pulls you up with him, carrying you over to the cabin wall. You can feel his load dripping from you as his cock slams into you again, making you let out a whimper. "Don't worry, chiquita. There's plenty more where that came from," Flaco says with a laugh, moving his mouth down to leave another mark on your neck. As Flaco pulls off your neck he gazes at the sight, enjoying the thick spread of purple marks across both sides of your neck. Anybody who goes near you will know damn well who you belong to; the other strangers you work for, the general store clerks, the stableboys, even the strangers on the streets. And that's exactly how Flaco likes it. You're his and his only. Flaco begins to thrust into you again, working your sensitive pussy so he can begin building another climax. His thrusts are a little slower this time, more focused on admiring you as his eyes meet yours. "You're my chiquita buena, aren't you?" Flaco asks, his grip tight on your ass as he holds you firmly against the wooden walls. "I am," you nod in agreement, enjoying the way Flacos expression turns into a cocky smile. "Go on, tell me," Flaco orders you. "I'm yours. I'm Flaco's girl," you repeat, making Flaco grin even more. "If you're my girl then who does this pussy belong to, eh?" Flaco questions. "You," you tell him. "But who am I chiquita?" Flaco asks. You remember a term that Flaco's called himself before, something that you thought was a joke, but it seems he meant it. "You're the wolf," you reply. "Very good, I'm the wolf," Flaco repeats with a chuckle. "And what do all those marks on your neck mean?" "That I'm yours, that I belong to the wolf," you confirm. "So good. So good for Flaco, aren't you? So good for the wolf," Flaco hums as he begins picking up the pace, pushing the air from your lungs as he begins pounding you again. The noises that both of you are letting out are loud enough to scare away any nearby bears; hopefully, Flaco won't have to deal with them for a while. You're a sticky mess between your legs, Flaco's fucking his former load from you, oozing from your pussy and dripping down onto his balls. Neither of you seems to mind, especially since Flaco had promised that he'd replace that load with a fresh one. For a man that always seems so grumpy, he's pulling some gorgeous faces; cheeks a vibrant red, mouth constantly parted, hair trailing over his eyes and slowly falling forward from his slicked-back style. It feeds your ego knowing that you have the pleasure of seeing him like this - you and only you. Flaco dips his head down to give you another kiss, his moustache prickling your lip in a way that feels oh-so-sensitive. "Flaco," you sigh as you break the kiss, his eyes meeting yours. "I know, I know. My chiquita is close, isn't she?" Flaco asks. All you can do is nod in agreement as you dip your hand between your legs to begin rubbing your clit, making your thigh muscles twitch, wrapped around Flacos stocky waist. Flaco hums at the sight, praising you, encouraging you. "You'll cum for Flaco, won't you?" he asks, and pleasantly hums again when you confirm that you will. "Ladies first," Flaco tells you, placing a kiss underneath your jawline, right on that sensitive spot that makes your head spin. Within a few more thrusts you're clenching around Flacos length, exhaling heavily as you enjoy another orgasm, your walls tightening almost painfully around Flacos thick length. Flaco lets out a grunt as he pushes his length all the way in and fills you up again, scrunching his eyes shut and burying his head in the curve of your neck, his dark hair flopping over his eyes. You feel the way Flacos cock swells up, your walls tightening a little too tightly, and the both of you know you're going to be stuck like this for a while. Neither of you mind and Flaco lifts his head up to brush his hair from his eyes and give you a tender kiss. He carries you back over to the bed, laying you down and managing to kick off his pants and boots. Thick furs are wrapped around you as you're pulled onto Flacos chest, your cheek resting against his pecs as his arms cradle you tenderly. Not many words are exchanged apart from the occasional "are you comfortable?" from Flaco, and you quickly find yourself lulling off to sleep, Flaco following shortly after as his body heat and the roaring fire keeps you warm throughout the cold night.

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thegreenerartist · 4 years ago

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Uh hi guys I wanted to make this post since it’s kinda been plaguing me

Assigning the “asshole-y characters” to white people and assigning the “kinder, gentler characters” to poc (especially when people make hcs of characters that don’t have a pre-assigned nationality)

By a Filipino

I get it. I really do. I appreciate that you hc nice people to poc. And Im not denying that poc can be friendly.

But Im always a little bit bothered whenever, let’s say, there are 2 characters. Person A is 50% mean, 50% kind. Person B is 25% mean, 75% kind (sorry I can’t make any better propositions it’s night rn). Most likely, fans will say that Person A is white while Person B is a poc. I know a lot of you mean well when you make a naive, kind, nice, all around good person a poc. I know that you wouldn’t mean any harm. But whenever someone does this, it feels like we are being infantilized.

Im in a third world country and Im privileged enough to be writing this out for all of you to see. I know that you don’t mean to infantalize us. But that’s what it feels like. We are always assigned, again, to naive characters. And it kinda sucks, yanno? So many of us here (Im speaking on what I see in the Philippines and I know it happens elsewhere too) are poor. So many of us had to see the real world before we were able to really enjoy being a child. We were already taught so early not to get lost in a crowd. Why? The chances of a little child dissapearing into a trafficking ring are so so high. Children of color (especially women of color) are forced to grow up so early. Sometimes, we can’t think about when a new album of our favorite artist will come out. We have to think about if our family will be able to survive this day. This week. This month, this year. I know this happens to white people too. But it’s so much more severe when you live in a third world country. I am so so privileged to even be typing this. Kids as young as 7 go to the wet market on their own here because they take care of their younger siblings. They were forced to grow up. We were forced to grow up. Even as young as I was before, I was already sure that I will become a successful doctor. So I wouldn’t have to let people close to me grow in poverty.

Im sorry that I spilled so much there. But I still hope you all got the point.

It’s nice to make characters who are kind and naive, colored. Because that’s what all people, especially kids and women, of color would have wanted to be. We wished. I wished that I didn’t have to think about this much while Im growing up. Im still young (my age is confidential sorry,,,) but I had to learn so much about politics. So early. Everyone heard of the Marawi Siege right? No. Probably not. It’s not “important” enough ig. But that news was on everything. Newspapers. TVs. Pictures of killers plastered everywhere for every child to see. We can’t look away. This was happening in our country.

Ig that’s why Im a lil frustrated whenever I see someone going “oh [blank] is an asshole and is very mature and angry. Probably white” and “oh [blank] is kind and is very caring and naive”

Naive naive naive

As soon as a character is shown in their source material to be naive and people say that “oh insert [race that’s not white] is very caring and kind, so Ill make [insert character] a poc :)”

I appreciate it. I know (I cannot speak for every other race) that Filipinos are considered caring, kind, welcoming. And that’s ok. Im happy my country people are considered good people. But if you equal kind, caring, welcoming to naive,,, please please please reconsider. We show the kindness that was never given to us. We are not naive. So do not assign us characters who are kind just because you think we are only kind.

Proper representation is giving characters who are layered a race. Don’t just give us characters like “Character A is kind therefore Character A is Filipino :)”. Give us characters that we can relate to. We ARE kind but I would prefer to be given “Character A is kind but occasionally very petty. Can have bursts of anger because they are burnt out sometimes but will always try to make up for it”

We don’t want to be a box to be ticked “made a hc on a character’s race and made them poc because they’re kind n naive”. We want a character that is like us. That is human

(Thank you @satanic-foxhole-court, @dil-aakhir-tu-kyun-rota-hai and @foxlolpop for spurring me to post this :D this was a lot longer than I anticipated but I had Feelings. It’s late rn so Im sleeping. Have a lovely day to whoever reads this! :)

#sorry for the ramble and sorry if it’s not coherent enough #but Im so so bothered when people give characters a colored race (especially Filipino) because they are described as kind #and naive #we are kind but we are not naive #please don’t #if you have anything to crit or add please do #it’s like 10 rn as Im writing this so it might not look good or I might’ve forgotten something #but please say it nicely :)#akin #pjo #mcga #aftg #idk how to tag sorry #I see this most in series where the character’s race aren’t specified #falsettos

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unibrowzz · 4 years ago

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Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part VI: The 00s

So I gave the 2000s a lot of shit back when I was rewatching them, mainly because the contests became much longer now with the introductions of so many more participants that semi finals had to be introduced, and also because the song quality nosedived. With the televote now in full control of who won, all you really needed to do to get a good result was either send somebody well known in your geographical area, and/or send something weird that would stand out amongst 40+ participants.

This is where the illusion of “bloc voting” came from.

So song, quality for the most part, was compromised in favour of either sending an attention-grabbing vote trap or just somebody famous. But that’s enough about the contests overall, how’s about them winners?

2000- Fly on the Wings of Love

Country: Denmark

Artist: Olsen Brothers

Language: English

Thoughts: I wonder how it feels to wait nearly 40 years to win again only to win as a complete surprise with a song 100/1 in the odds. Must be weird. My feelings towards this song are… kinda mixed. It sounds like the kind of song you swear you’ve heard before over a million times, be it in advertisements, on the radio, being played by buskers or bored guitar kids at parties. But at the same time it feels so completely different compared to other winners and, Hell, even other Eurovision songs at the time. It’s a very striking and recognisable song when talking about Eurovision music, sure. It’s very chill, and relaxed, and the singer has a bizarre voice which somehow sounds heavily autotuned even when he’s performing live.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Sweden- Roger Pontare- “When Spirits are Calling my Name”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 46th

2001- Everybody

Country: Estonia

Artist: Tanel Padar & Dave Benton

Language: English

Thoughts: And this folks, is what you call a guilty pleasure. I avoided this song for a while because I just knew it was objectively terrible. I knew this barely qualified as a song, that most of it was just two mismatched dudes shouting at each other over a disco track, that the lyrics aren’t that great at all… Et cetera. And yet, trashy as it is, I still really like this song. I don’t really know why, maybe it’s my barely-hidden desire to be an obnoxious contrarian, maybe it’s because the chorus has some fairly decent lyrics (especially for an eastern European entry), maybe it’s because it’s catchy… Or maybe because it’s fun, I dunno.

Is this my personal winner for this year? 2001 really sucked tbh

If no, what is? Honestly yeah, this song shreds

Personal ranking (out of 67): 13th

2002: I Wanna

Country: Latvia

Artist: Marie N (Or, Maria Naumova)

Language: English (I think…?)

Thoughts: You want a song which hasn’t aged well? Well here you go. I’m sure this song was MUCH more bearable back in 2002, but listening to it now is just... What on Earth is she even saying?? I don’t think I’ve heard a song with such garbled lyrics before. On my first listen, I couldn’t even distinguish what language this song was in, and when I finally realised it was in English… good Lord, the lyrics are complete nonsense. And the rhyming? It’s non-existent. The funny thing is Marie herself speaks really good English, so why this song sounds like it was run through Google Translate five times and sung by someone who only started learning English 5 minutes ago is beyond me. But enough about the terrible singing, lyrics and butchery of the English language, does this song have anything else going for it? Not really. I’d put this song into the same category as “Diva”, in that it’s trying desperately to be the next big disco track of its decade, but it just never reaches the crescendo it sets out to achieve. It just drunkenly fumbles around until it ends. What a graceful entry.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? United Kingdom- Jessica Garlick- "Come Back"

Personal ranking (out of 67): 59th

2003- Every Way that I Can

Country: Turkey

Artist: Sertab Erener

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the original ethnopop winner. I’m still not 100% sure what ethnopop is, but I’m guessing it’s just slang for the kind of music you’d hear in a gay bar whilst on your holidays. Not that I would know. This is yet another winner where it took me a good few listens to properly enjoy it since I thought the lyrics were a bit… bad. But unlike those other songs, I got into this one way back in (checks playlist) 2014, and I still haven’t managed to fall out of love with it, so to speak. I still really like this song, I’d go as far as to say it’s in my top ten favourite winners in fact. A statement which still hasn’t changed after I watched the 2003 contest recently in July of 2020, so hooray for that. And ethnopop isn’t really a genre I tend to gravitate towards, but I think what makes this song stand out to me at least is how heavy it is. This is a very slow song when you look at its BPM, and the beat just pounds loud and clear all throughout it. It’s not as obnoxious or in-your-face as other songs of its genre, it’s its own thing and that’s what makes it a cut above the rest for me.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67): 5th

2004- Wild Dances

Country: Ukraine

Artist: Ruslana

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the superior Ukrainian winner. This song is kind of similar to the one above, in that just like “Every Way that I Can” this is a big, stampy dance number, only this time with the distinction that the lyrics were written in 30 seconds rather than a few minutes. It doesn't get lazier than this folks. But I'm willing to forgive lazy lyrics if the song can distract me from them, and thankfully this song can. Plus it’s not like this song needs good lyrics anyway, I get the feeling the focus is more on the beat and instrumental more than anything. And luckily I’m a sucker for that.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67): 7th

2005- My Number One

Country: Greece

Artist: Helena Paparizou

Language: English

Thoughts: I’ll give you “My Number One crawled so Fuego could run”, more like My Number One won so Fuego could pull up the rear in second place behind a song full of chicken noises. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This song I feel is the one which really popularised that… certain brand of Eurovision song. The female-led, east Meditteranean origin, “Yas queen slay” brand of Eurovision song. Yanno. The true gay bar song. Which is, as I said earlier, not really a genre I like nor care for. Do I like this song? Eh. Kinda. I can’t really bring myself to hate it, since I have some good memories associated with it, but... … Well, I wouldn’t go out of my way to listen to it, put it that way. It feels kind of aggressive, and not in a way I’m all that comfortable with. The way she snarls that she’ll “get vicious” if her love isn’t reciprocated especially doesn’t sit right with me. Like I don’t want to be a That Guy™ who says people would get offended if a man sang that line, but it still puts me off a bit.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Hungary- NOX- “Forogj, Viláj!”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 36th

2006- Hard Rock Hallelujah

Country: Finland

Artist: Lordi

Language: English

Thoughts: My mother always asks me “how did this win?” And I always tell her, “Well it’s been nearly 15 years since it won and you still remember it, so clearly it left an impact on people.” So, obviously, this is a gimmicky entry; without the giant monster costumes I highly doubt this would’ve even qualified, let alone won with what was then a record-breaking score. After all, rock/metal songs don’t tend to fare well at this contest. Even with the drunk European public in full control of the vote, most of them are lucky to even make it onto the left side of the scoreboard, and getting into the top ten? Forget it. It's too niche of a genre for it to have broad appeal, especially given how a lot of viewers (in my experience at least) DO tend to be older and more conservative, shall we say. Now, I'm not an expert on rock or metal myself, so I can't really say whether this is a good representation of the genre or whether this is what outsiders THINK it's like, but even to my untrained ear this does sound very tongue-in-cheek. Like I don’t want to go so far as to say this is a parody of metal music, but it definitely doesn’t seem to take itself too seriously. The song, I mean. Apparently the band is very serious about their monster aesthetic; but I digress. That said, I do have a soft spot for whatever sub-genre of metal this is, so I don’t mind this one in the slightest.

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Croatia

If no, what is? Croatia- Séverina- “Moja Stikla”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 30th

2007: Molitva

Country: Serbia

Artist: Marija Serifovic

Language: Serbian (Translation: “Prayer”)

Thoughts: Ah, this one takes me back. This was one of the first Eurovision songs I remember truly falling in love with way back in 2013. I must’ve been about 16 or 17 at the time, heavily into dark, edgy music, and this song was just pure heaven for me. Ticked all the right boxes. It’s dark, it’s brooding, it’s sultry, the vocals are stellar, the lyrics are incredible; like, I wanted the title of this song tattooed on my wrist, I loved it so damn much, I just wanted to declare to the world that I loved this song. But that was then, how do I feel about it today? Obviously not the same, tastes evolve over time and after a while I wasn’t so easily suckered into this song’s spell like I used to be. But at the same time, I can’t deny that this is a fantastic song across the board, and one I still like despite it being my edgy favourite from back when my taste in music was terrible. Plus this is also the best-sung song of the 2000s, but that’s like being the tallest person in a room full of toddlers.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal Ranking (out of 67): 3rd

2008: Believe

Country: Russia

Artist: Dima Bilan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes. The song that finally made Terry Wogan quit after 30 years of “commentating”. The song that proved to the people of the UK once and for all that the contest was rigged to favour certain countries and that countries in western Europe would never win again. Was it worth it? Not really, but I’m not complaining. Now, I don't like Wogan's commentary at all, but really? This song? This is the straw that broke the camel’s back? This song isn’t bad per se, it’s just… Very underwhelming. And outdated. Like I can smell the 2000s off this one and it smells like Lynx body spray and hair gel. It's stuck in that awkward phase where it's too old to be cool, but not old enough to be retro, and it’s forever doomed to be a product of its time. It’s just an average, generic, “I have a dream and I can achieve it” pseudo-ballad; nothing outstanding or special. The performance feels very stale and formulaic too. The only way to describe it is it’s what I imagine an American person would THINK a winning Eurovision song would be like based on what they get told by their European pen pals. Dated music, hot Russian men, over the top presentation, like this just reeks of what outsiders (or British people, for that matter) think Eurovision is made of. On a different note, mediocre and dated as this song may be, I can still kinda see how it won (and no, it has nothing to do with Russia’s international relationships). Dima himself is a very… unique performer; one who performs with the questionable energy of an overexcitable children’s YouTuber, and his dramatic and exaggerated movements make this whole performance a bit of a blast to watch. But that doesn’t really save how painfully bland the song is.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Latvia- Pirates- "Wolves of the Sea"

Personal ranking (out of 67): 48th

2009: Fairytale

Country: Norway

Artist: Alexander Rybak

Language: English

Thoughts: I’m not going to lie, my feelings towards this song are incredibly mixed. There’s a lot of appeal here, with wild violin solos, swooping vocals and a pounding beat, as well as a very singalongable chorus; like, this is a good, solid song. But… something here just doesn’t gel with me. This, to me, is one of those “good by default” songs that’s a solid ‘A’ across the board, but something’s just… missing for me. There’s not enough here for me to go out of my way to download and listen to this on a regular basis. It's in the same boat as “Waterloo” in that I don't dislike it, because it’s still a good song, but I can't say I like it either, because it’s such a default "best Eurovision song”, so I can’t sincerely say I like it. Am I making sense? Probably not. But basically my thoughts are “it’s good, but it’s not my kind of good.”

Is this my personal winner for this year? Ehhhhhh

If no, what is? Germany- Alex Swings, Oscar Sings- “Miss Kiss Kiss Bang”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 29th

#final round tomorrow ayyy #eurovision #mod's winner reviews #esc winners

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neozoneships · 4 years ago

Text

“hi!! could i get a personality ship for NCT, The Boyz and SKZ? 😊

i’m an INFP-T and a leo (though i dont really identify much w leo traits, more so of my rising sign- cancer!) my top love language is quality time- so i really treasure time spent with my loved ones, and of course, alone time!! i really really love to eat desserts- tarts, cake, ice cream, you name it! my hobbies are watching kdrama, sports (occasionally) and anything arts and craft related- like embroidery, beading, painting, and more~ for music, i mostly listen to rnb, soft pop and alternative rock :D i play the piano and ukulele (but not very well) and have been trying to learn to play the guitar (but its so hard…)”

@xstarlightzx hellooo, thank you for requesting! hope you like your ships!! (*´▽`*)

in nct dream + 127, i ship you with... mark!

idk why but like,, when i first saw your description, it just screams mark so that’s why in both dream and 127, he’s just the best yanno HAHAH okay anyways first off, astrologically, this is a good pair. based on sun signs, leos are relatively compatible since well... you are both leos aha,, but considering you resonate more with your rising sign, and mark’s rising sign being a capricorn, capricorns and cancers have a really good mix of energy, hence you two would totally click in an instant! Mark’s an INFJ, which complements well with INFPs. Both of you would be attuned to each other’s emotions, and are attentive towards the needs of the other. Both of you are sensitive, empathetic, and very much introverted. You both would rather be comfortable alone (or with a few friends) rather than hang out in big groups. i think mark’s a versatile character so whether it’s arts and crafts or sports you’d wanna do, he’s totally up for it. and he’s really the type to not be able to say no to you because he just wants to see you happy yanno?? anyways, since you both have a sweet tooth, you’d both probably be spending a lot of time cafe-hopping or just jamming together (and it’s okay, mark can teach you how to play :) )

in wayv, i ship you with...ten!

soooo like ten because there’s overall a good mix of energy; astrologically wise for both sun and rising signs, you both would be a good pair. in terms of mbti, ten can arguably be an isfp, and infps and isfps have a lot in common! both of you would prioritise each other’s needs and emotions over your own. Both of you are very accepting, loyal and a good mediator if working in groups. I think ten would be a good match since he’s quite creative as well. since he loves to draw and has an affinity for photography, there definitely is some overlap between your interests and his!

in the boyz, i ship you with... kevin!

kevin is yet another versatile (and canadian!) boy, whom i think you’ll connect well with. being a pisces, kevin and you will have great synergy. this is also combined with the fact that you are both INFPs. that said, both of you will share the same values, emotions and outlook in life. because of that, you’d both be able to have an emotional connection with another. plus, you both are really really creative. like ten, kevin loves to draw, and he’s quite well-known for his various calligraphy work for the group itself. and also he’s also musically-inclined, since he plays the piano. talking about music, you both like r&b, which would be something both of you will bond over. i think somewhere down the road perhaps there’ll be a collaboration between the two of you, may it be in arts and craft or in music. i swear, are you kevin himself?

in stray kids, i ship you with...han!

fyi im listening to his playlist on spotify just to get a better understanding of him and let me tell, this guy has exquisite taste and range (++ he listens to gallant and childish, i approve) as i was reading up more on the stray kids members, han jisung really ticks off all the boxes. as a virgo, it makes him quite compatible with you, and he can definitely click with your rising sign. in terms of mbti, he’s an istp, so since both personality types are introverted, you both would possess similar social levels. he’s creative, good at art, can play the guitar, goddamns what more can you have? you both would totally bond over these. plus, apparently his favourite food is cake so expect to be eating a lot of cake when you’re with han („• ֊ •„)

#ships #xstarlightz #written #nct #nct dream #mark lee #wayv #ten #the boyz #kevin #stray kids #han #submission

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yeahgen · 6 years ago

Note

‘ it’s going to leave a scar. ’

pet sematary prompts

‘Only if you want it to.’ He shifts the pen cap between his teeth to the corner of his lip as he talks. He’s been using his mouth for more tasks now since he’s currently one hand short.

‘They have ways to get rid of those now.’

‘Especially in a place like this.’ Make-up. Reconstructive surgery. Magic. All of it sounds like something out of a storybook, but he’s seen too much to play the skeptic by now. ‘Scarring’s a sign of healing tissue,’ he adds as he scribbles down some truly atrocious notes with his left hand. ‘If it’s appearances you’re worried about, you should be covered with these colder months.’ One arm and two shoulders are easy to hide beneath Fudou’s favorite hoodie.

“It’s not…I’m not bothered by my looks,” Fudou mutters back. He’s back on the kitchen table again after a long night’s sleep, shifting awkwardly while Yagen pokes and prods at the cuts on his bare skin. “Ow.”

Yagen stops at the sound, before poking at the same place to elicit an identical reaction.

“Oi, what gives.”

‘Just wanted to confirm,’ Yagen murmurs back before jotting down a line. ‘Bruised ribs.’

“Ah yeah, probably from where that thing punched me…”

‘Does it still hurt?’

“Only if you jab me like that.”

‘Noted.’ The pen scribbles across the notepad again.

“Are you really writing that down too?!”

‘It’s important.’

“Yanno, I got a ton of random scrapes and bumps from last night…”

‘Yes. They’re all important to me.’

Fudou silently stares at the scarily growing list of notes before he speaks up. “Hey, Yagen. Don’t ya think you’re…overdoing it?”

‘No.’ The shutdown is instantaneous and sharp enough to make Fudou wince.

“This stuff doesn’t even matter, we got ‘em all the time back at the citadel–”

‘They matter now, because it’s just the two of us in an empty house in the middle of an apocalypse.’

“Then maybe, I dunno,” Fudou shies back when Yagen pokes him again. “Give me a warning or something before you do that, your gloves are cold.” It’s not just that, of course. All of Yagen is frozen, stuck in that curt and chilly mindset he prefers when working through a problem. It only makes Fudou feel as stiff and awkward as a specimen being put on display. He frowns even more when Yagen just stares at his face, then back at his body. “It’s not that bad I guess,” he backtracks quickly. “M’not used to it, that’s all.”

‘…noted.’

Yagen raises his hand starts pulling off his glove with his teeth. One by one, the fingers come off to reveal even paler skin beneath, marred by patches of rough, discolored flesh. Fudou stares transfixed up to the moment Yagen presses a bare palm against his chest.

‘Better?’

“Y-yeah…”

‘You’re stuttering.”

“You surprised me! T..that’s all…”

‘Well, if you’re turning red, I can guess it’s not because of cold.’

That makes Fudou flush more, and he shoots a scowl at him for the comment. But Yagen only stares at his hand, silent.

“What is it?” he asks instead, feeling antsy again.

The other blinks, then shakes his head. ‘Nothing. It’s just been a while since I’ve looked at them.’

Fudou looks down as well, but Yagen’s already moved his hand, the fingers running softly across his shoulders to check the bandages there.

‘We should change these,’ Yagen says next, and tugs on one end. His nails are neatly trimmed, and for a second Fudou suddenly finds himself wondering when Yagen takes the time to cut them. Then the fingers are buried in rolls of gauze as his wound exposes itself to the air again. He quickly raises his own hands to help, and the next hour is spent in silence while they dress and re-bind the bandages together.

This time, Yagen goes on to treat Fudou’s other injuries too until he’s almost a patchwork pattern of plasters, ointment, and band-aids. He lets the tantou do as he likes, lifting an arm here or pressing a dressing there, following directions blindly as the quiet stretches on and takes his mind to a blissful blank.

‘…dou.’

“Hmm?” Fudou’s jolted to the present by Yagen calling his name. “Ah. We done?”

‘We’ve been done for the past five minutes,’ Yagen states slowly. Cool. Calm. As collected as a packed box, sealed shut and ready for storage in a dusty room somewhere.

“Oh.” He feels a little sheepish. “I guess you can put your glove back on.”

‘I’ll need to wash up first,’ Yagen says briskly, but grabs his pen to write more notes instead. Fudou’s eyes follow the ugly handwriting against the paper before he finally looks away. After all that talking, silence feels like a relief. It’s not like Yagen’s interested in chatting either when he’s all caught up in his work. Maybe…they could stay like this for a while.

A bit of in-between, stuck in the middle of before and after. The feeling wasn’t half bad.

Would his shoulder and arm really scar, though. As long as it didn’t affect him in battle, he guessed. Yagen had said it was a good thing, right? Covering things up, healing wounds…it might look a little ugly but at least that mean it’d stopped hurting–

‘–ou. Fudou!’

“What?” Fudou looks back again.

‘Button up your shirt, I can’t do it with my hands.’

“Uh, right.” Fudou’s hands go mechanically for his clothes. A flicker of something flits past Yagen’s eyes—he doesn’t catch what, but he does see the tantou crease his brows. Unhappy. Yeah, he’d be ticked off too, if he’d crippled an arm as well as a leg, making him usele---

‘You missed a button,’ Yagen cuts in sharply. ‘Stop, or you’ll have to redo the whole thing.’

Fudou obediently halts. Yagen pauses briefly at that, then nudges him until he unbuttons his mistake and keeps going again. He watches until the whole shirt is done, then makes Fudou put on his jacket as well before settling back in his (spare) wheelchair.

‘Alright.’ Yagen nods, but his voice is flat, still lacking in warmth, as he pushes up his glasses and tilts his head up to stare. His eyebrows too, are set in that same hard, narrow line, making Fudou’s stomach do flip-flops at the sight. It’s strange, how he’s starting to feel jumpy around Yagen again.

Bad strange. He quickly tries to think of something else, and ends up missing the next part of Yagen’s sentence, something about supplies and help from someone somewhere.

“Right--yeah, sounds good.”

‘Really?’ Yagen asks.

“I mean,” Fudou blinks and flails. “What do I know, right? Sure. I guess. Whatever floats your boat.” He has no idea what he’s talking about right now.

‘Fine. Then I’ll go ahead with the plan.’ The answer is perfectly neutral, its speaker poised and unmoved. Then Yagen spins around his wheelchair and rolls out of the room, leaving Fudou sitting blankly on the table. Once he’s out of sight, the tantou finally slumps, feeling more exhausted than before.

Ah. This is the first time I’m relieved to see him go.

That’s wrong, isn’t it. But it’s funny.

He doesn’t know how to make it right again.

#damekatana #long post #💊〢take two & call me in the morning (answers)#💧〢the fifth month when the rain falls (drabbles)#*sticks my foot deep into headcanons again* whee #it starts out on a plateau and then it all goes downhill hmm #this is all over the place but *shelves my feelings* okay i can move on from this...now..... orz

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thethespacecoyote · 7 years ago

Text

“Handsome’s Con-sort”

“What? You nervous, uh—what’s your name again?” Jack furrowed his brow, eyes falling to the shiny silver bar pinned to Rhys’ lapel when the young man fumbled with his tongue for too long.

“Rhys, oh yeah, Rhys. Not really a star’s name, yanno? You’re like that weird character actor they bring in to try to appeal to the foreign art house market,” Jack scoffed, patting his upper arm. Rhys tried in vain to ignore the way Jack’s sculpted, million dollar pecs were pressing up against his shoulder. And the way his uh, hundred-thousand dollar nipple was brushing through his shirt up against Rhys’ skin.

“Uh…um, thank you, sir?”

“Sir? Aw jeez, kiddo, loosen up a little bit, ‘kay?” Jack smacked his shoulder, pushing off of the young man. He tossed his head in the direction of the door, strands of grey-brown hair scattering against his forehead as he smirked at the flustered handler.

“Cause we’re gonna have us some real fun today.”

6.2k words of a random ass Comic-Con AU that I wrote inspired by a cute comic I saw and from that story about Dameon Clarke getting drunk with his handler trying to keep him out of trouble lol

So yeah, Jack is a famous movie star at a convention, and Rhys is the volunteer who gets assigned to be his handler and gets more than he bargained for...

Leave me a tip! ★��Ask about commissions

Rhys couldn’t believe his luck.

He’d signed up with the convention volunteer program on a whim. Vaughn had been bugging him to go for years, but for some reason he’d never gotten the days off or been able to snag him some tickets. This year, he’d finally given in, and agreed to work part of the weekend in order to earn himself a badge to enjoy the fun.

Hearing via his Twitter page that Jack Lawrence would be attending the convention thrilled him further, though his knew with his volunteer duties there would be no way he’d be able to wait in lines for the hours it took to get into one of those most coveted panels or signings. He’d tried to battle the disappointment bubbling up in his chest by hoping he’d be able to catch even a small glance of Jack Lawrence by chance walking around or talking to the presses or even just going to the bathroom. Even the smallest little glimpse would make him happy.

But he ended up with a lot more than he bargained for, when volunteer services told him exactly what he was going to be busy with for the entire weekend.

He’d made the woman repeat herself, swearing that he’d heard it wrong the first time. She’d furrowed her brows at him, before slowly repeating that yes, he would be Jack Lawrence’s “handler” for the duration of the convention.

Rhys hadn’t even known that big stars such as Jack even needed, uh—“handlers.” Essentially, glorified babysitters that made sure the stars were on schedule and knew where to go and what time to be there for each of their panels or signings or appearances. Rhys figured that kind of stuff would be done by Jack’s agent or PR rep, but nope, here he was—shy little tech intern Rhys, ready to stand at his favorite actor’s side for four days straight.

Rhys met Jack Lawrence for the first time ten minutes before his first signing.

He was panicking, trying to field the texts and calls he was getting both from the organizer of the panel and Jack’s agent. His head was spinning trying to keep both of them happy as the deadline grew closer and closer. He tried his best to ignore the clock on his phone ticking away and not think about the packed room of convention attendees waiting to see the Jack Lawrence make his dramatic entrance.

Rhys tried to keep his breathing under control, but it was difficult, considering how anxious he was already about meeting his idol. He tapped the toe of his boot against the asphalt, arms crossed tightly over his chest as his eyes flit over every sleek black Escalade pulling into the parking lot.

He was grateful he’d been spared the baggy, ugly beige vest that had been given to most of the other employees, allowing him to dress himself in an outfit he hoped would impress Jack…you know, whenever he showed up. Rhys could feel sweat starting to trickle down his back beneath the

Finally, he got a text from Jack’s agent just as a shiny limousine with bright yellow hubcaps pulls up to him, lacking the serial number that emblazoned the rest of the fancy cars circling the lot. Because of course someone like Jack would use his own limo rather than patronize any of the local rental services.

Rhys’ panic over the panel was quickly replace by a sudden rush of adrenaline that washed over him as the limousine pulled up right in front of him, the sleek door reflecting in the hot summer sun as it opened outwards. Rhys breath was reedy in his throat as he watched a heeled, brown leather boot step out from the car, following by a long leg shrouded in unimaginably tight charcoal denim, a fluttering yellow V-neck, a dark blazer, and finally the unmistakeable face of Jack Lawrence, tilted in a casual smirk as he tipped his sunglasses down and peered at Rhys.

“Ay, Moxx, is this the guy?” Jack called over his shoulder, one hand rested casually atop the car door, thumb fiddling idly with his ring as if he didn’t have—Rhys checked his phone—five minutes left to get to his movie’s panel.

Rhys’ tongue was weighted like lead as he tried to form words, eyes fixed on Jack’s appearance even as long, red fingernails snapped in front of his face, trying to get his attention.

“Hey, you, you’re Rhys, right?” The young man nodded dumbly, eyes tearing away from Jack to focus on the woman who’d stepped out of the car besides him, her other clawed hand resting on Jack’s shoulder. Rhys’ already wide eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the extremely low cut blouse just barely holding itself together around the woman’s large, tastefully tattooed chest.

“I…um, y-yeah, that’s me,” he awkwardly stuck out his hand, wilting softly when the gesture was ignored, “I, um, it’s great to meet you, Mr.—“

“Listen, darling, you’ve got four minutes to get him up to that ballroom and I’m tired of babysitting his lazy ass, so you’re going to make sure he doesn’t get distracted or wander off, okay?” The woman winked, eyelashes razor sharp.

“Lazy? Maybe if they hadn’t tried to rifle through my shit at LAX we’d have been on time,” Jack snarled, earning him a sharp flick from the woman’s fingernails. Rhys stood stock still, his tongue and brain still fumbling with his thoughts.

“Save that story for the fans, sugar, I’m sure they’ll get a kick out of the fact that you thought you could smuggle your whiskey minis onto a plane. Now get moving!” Moxxi shoved his shoulder, clapping her hands together as she shot one final, warning look at Rhys that belied the sharp smile on her painted lips.

“You screw up my best client, darling, and I’ll make your life a living hell. So have fun you two!” She called, coyly waving them off as Jack strode lazily forward, Rhys’ jogging slowly besides him, worried that racing ahead might annoy the actor. Rhys’ heart beat loudly in his chest, a lump forming in his throat as his pocket buzzed with what was undoubtedly a slew of messages from the panel host, but all his attention was commanded by the languid cool exuding from Jack Lawrence.

“I…I, sir, not to bother you, but the panel starts at—“

“Nothing wrong with being fashionably late, pumpkin, besides these nerds would wait out all day and night for me. They’ll live,” Jack snarked, hands shoved nonchalantly into his pockets at he looked sidelong at Rhys’, those sly, seductive eyes making the young man’s pulse stop. Rhys swallowed, tearing his eyes away from Jack lest he have a heart attack and die right here before he had a chance to get the actor to his panel.

In the end, they were about five minutes late, but thankfully Jack’s director and co-stars had manage to distract the crowd long enough with jokes and anecdotes to distract from the star’s tardiness. Jack had marched onto the stage, arms expectantly spread outwards the the roar of the crowd, leaving Rhys gasping and out of breath backstage, relief overwhelming him as he’d finally gotten Jack to where he was supposed to go.

Asides from the rocky start, however, the panel went off without a hitch. Jack was in rare form, snarking and telling all kinds of stories that had the audience in stitches. Rhys particularly liked hearing about all the pranks Jack liked to pull on his stunt double, though he felt a little bad for the poor guy. Especially the story about the box of kittens—though at least Jack had let him have one in the end?

Actually, the panel seemed mostly consumed by Jack, with the rest of his costars and production staff receiving very little questions and getting much less time to talk to the audience. Not that they seemed to mind—by all the cheers and screams coming from the crowd, hearing Jack talk for sixty minutes seemed to be exactly what they came here for.

Jack ended the panel by taking off his shirt and sloppily kissing his co-star, Nisha Kadam much to the thrill of the crowd. Though he was on the clock, Rhys couldn’t resist pulling out his phone and snapping a quick picture of the intertwined couple from behind, making sure to get a nice view of Jack’s jeans hanging off his sculpted ass. His stomach flip-flopped unpleasantly at the lock of Nisha and Jack’s lips, momentarily replacing the actress with his own eager mouth for a brief moment before he shut that thought way far away.

He was supposed to be professional, here.

Rhys hung back as the panel cleared out, Jack and his costars ambling backstage to chat amongst themselves. Rhys rubbed his wrist awkwardly, stealing sidelong glances at Jack as the actor made kissy faces at Nisha, only to get an annoyed, purple clawed hand to the face as she shoved him away. Rhys felt something tight and warm curl in his belly, his head feeling fuzzy as he toyed with going up to properly talk to the actor. He knew from the heat in his face that he was probably blushing bright red, practically glowing in the dim light of the backstage. He put a hand to his lips, turning away to maybe find a bathroom, to splash some cold water onto his face until it was time to guide Jack to his next event, when suddenly a broad, warm hand clapped on his shoulder, rooting him in place.

“So what’d you think, kitten?” Jack Lawrence smirked as he turned Rhys around, other hand on his hip. “Enjoy the view?”

Rhys balked for a moment, struggling to lift his eyes from where they had fallen right on Jack’s chest. The actor hadn’t yet shrugged his blazer back on, the only thing covering his torso the thin yellow shirt that clung to the curves of muscles that Rhys had seen completely bared to hundreds of people a couple of minutes earlier.

“I—um, yeah, I mean—wait, no, I—“

“What? You nervous, uh—what’s your name again?” Jack furrowed his brow, eyes falling to the shiny silver bar pinned to Rhys’ lapel when the young man fumbled with his tongue for too long.

“Uh…um, thank you, sir?”

“Cause we’re gonna have us some real fun today.”

Jack was, ostensibly, at the convention to promote his new movie to the excitable masses cramming the exhibit halls. There was a massive display overwhelming the movie studio’s booth, complete with a heavily detailed sculpture of a crashed, sci-fi spacecraft and a dynamic, bigger-than-lifesize statue of the character that Jack was playing.

However, the actor seemed more interested in flirting than talking any details about the film. Every time a fan or interviewer tried to steer the conversation in that direction, Jack would turn it back around to complimenting their body or hair or smell, or running into a long anecdote only distantly related to the movie’s production. Rhys did his best to try to keep Jack from getting too off base, without potentially offending the actor. The last thing he wanted to do was earn his hero’s ire while there were literally hundreds of professional as well as amateur cameras pointed in their direction.

Rhys gently interrupted one of Jack’s trailing monologues to remind the actor and the interviewer that the signing was about to start, flinching as Jack turned to him and shot him a look that made Rhys feel like he was having an aneurysm. He took in a sharp breath of relief as Jack’s expression melted into something amused as he shrugged off the still running camera to make his way over to the line brimming with thrilled fans.

Rhys stood obediently apart from Jack as the actor sat at the booth’s signing table, scribbling his name with a fat golden pen on countless posters and glossy pictures of himself, as well as the occasional bit of fan merchandise and other miscellany. Jack seemed most amused by the detailed, 3D-printed bust of himself and the lacy, bright yellow and black bra. The latter made him laugh aloud, winking at the blushing girl who’d given it to him before signing on the inside of the still-warm cup.

The growling feeling in his stomach that had wound up when Rhys had seen Jack kiss Nisha Kadam sprung up again as the actor dared to press his lips against the padded insert of the bra, sending the girl and her friend into a fit of giggles as they were nudged away from Jack by the equally eager fans behind them.

Rhys’ eyes fell lazily to the table, watching as Jack’s broad, tanned hands swirled his liquid signature on picture after picture, the shiny ring on his finger and the wet gold of his pen’s ink glinting gently in the bright overhead lights. He wondered if he had anything good on him that Jack would sign for him. Back at the volunteer lockers he had his souvenir book, or maybe Jack would sign his convention badge? Or, maybe he could buy one of the many attractive head-shots and movie stills laid out glossy and smelling of fresh ink on the signing table.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A smile flittered across Rhys’ face as he saw it was a selfie from Vaughn, in his Thor armor and the sleek blond wig Rhys had helped him style the night before the convention. It didn’t look half bad for what was kind of a hack job, and his bro looked happy, having found a couple other Marvel cosplayers to hang out with.

“Drinks later? :)” Came the text a couple seconds later. Rhys chuckled, replying quickly with a “im gonna need it.”

Especially when Jack screeched his chair back and hopped on top of the signing table, pointing aggressively to himself and inviting everyone “hot enough” in line to his studio’s industry party later to get hammered.

Oh no. Ms. Moxxi wasn’t going to be happy about that.

Rhys managed to keep Jack focused through another yet interview following the signing before the actor decided he was tired of being cramped up in the busy, thankfully air-conditioned convention hall. Rhys followed on his heels as Jack loped through the crowd, sneakily exited out a side door that put him and Rhys smack in the middle of a no-less-busy hotel lobby. The younger man managed to deflect most of the shocked yelling and pointing that Jack earned by appearing out of thin air amidst throngs of hotel guests, nearly losing Jack in the crowd a few times before the actor found what he had been apparently looking for—the fancier of the hotel’s two bars.

Jack brushed past the hostess with a wink and a finger-gun, leaving Rhys to issue a quick, hissed apology as he raced over to where Jack had taken a seat at one of the larger tables by the window, ignoring all of the smaller, two-seater ones. Rhys’ shuffled awkwardly by one of the chairs, wringing his hands as he looked from their bustling surroundings, down to where Jack was sitting, arm thrown over the back of his chair. He’d already opened up the drink menu, eyes scanning the various items, his gaze only flicking upwards when he realized Rhys’ hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Jeez, sit your butt down, pumpkin, I ain’t expecting anyone else,” Jack waved with the menu, nudging the chair opposite from him out from the table with his foot. Rhys nodded stiffly, jumping to obey as he sat down, mumbling a quick thanks as the waitress quickly took Jack’s order, all but ignoring Rhys until the actor ordered him a lemonade and a burger with fries.

“I saw you eat one of those five dollar pretzels like, 3 hours ago, I don’t need you conking out on me,” Jack grinned as his drink was rushed back to the table. The actor lifted it up, a pleased twinkle in his eyes as he admired the thick, heavy glass, filled with sparkling amber liquid and garnished with a flowering cut of orange peel.

“Rhysie. You see this? They named a frikkin’ drink after me here. They put it on their menu. Me. That’s how you know you’re a god damn star.”

Rhys nodded as Jack downed half the cocktail in one refreshed gulp.

Rhys was starting to feel like this was way outside of the handling duties that his supervisor had told him about.

He’d texted Ms. Moxxi a couple of times throughout their lunch, excusing himself to the restroom while Jack ordered him a couple more “Jack Lawrence Sours” as well as some straight shots of top shelf whiskey that he pounded back with surprising nonchalance. Rhys bobbed up and down on his heels in front of the bright bathroom mirror as he glanced at his phone screen, waiting for Jack’s agent to reply back. When his phone finally buzzed he nearly dropped it from his nervous fingers, squeezing the device between two sweaty palms as he glanced down at the screen.

Just make sure he doesn’t make a scene, darling, and get him back in his hotel by the end of the night~

There were a couple of kissing-face emojis, then nothing. Any further texts that Rhys tried to send her earned him no response.

The young man let out a soft whine, pocketing his phone as he walked over to the sink, running the cold water a couple times over his palms before splashing a little onto his face. He glanced up, looking at himself in the mirror, frowning at the frazzled bits of hair that had fallen out of coif. He quickly brushing his style back into place, straightening the lapels of his jacket so the garment fell more attractively over his slender frame.

Jack had said they were going to have fun today, hadn’t he?

Rhys flicked his head to the side, trying his best, cool-guy smirk out in the reflection.

Well then, until he handed Jack back over to Ms. Moxxi, he was going to have fun.

Jack soon grew bored of the hotel bar, and before long he was brushing aside the stacked glasses littering the table and waving his steel credit card at their waitress.

Rhys finished picking at the remains of his burger as she quickly ran the card, feeling a new confidence run through him. He’d expected Jack to invite some of his fellow actors, or maybe some of the fans who had gasped and pointed and asked for a picture with the tipsy actor, but despite the attention Jack garnered wherever he went he didn’t ask anyone to join them. And he had paid for Rhys’ lunch and three refills of iced tea.

Jack Lawrence might be a little bit rough and bawdy, but Rhys was relieved to discover that he wasn’t a total jerk or anything—he’d heard horror stories about people meeting their heroes and idols, and he was breathing easier now that Jack hadn’t decided to completely ditch him after his convention duties were over for the day.

“Don’t worry, sugar, you’re already getting yourself a great tip,” Jack snarked to the waitress as he scratched his pen across the check, slapping it back down against the slim leather book. Rhys hopped to his feet as Jack scraped his chair against the slick stone floor, winking at their waitress as she stared bug-eyed down at the check, her cheeks flushed bright pink.

Jack’s grin split at the edges as he strode out through the bar, Rhys’ moving quickly to keep pace with the actor, who was still surprisingly spry despite the sheer amount of alcohol he’d pounded back.

“You still with me, kitten?” Jack clapped Rhys on the shoulder as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping through a couple of messages. Rhys half-wondered if he should text Vaughn and tell him what was going on, considering that it was starting to get dark, but then Jack was shoving his phone insistently into Rhys’ face. Rhys’ eyes went cross trying to read the bright screen that had been pressed up only an inch or so in front of his eyes, able to see only some blurry text and the fuzzy image of some classy-looking ballroom.

“Industry party’s just beginning, Rhysie-baby! What do you say? Moxxi ain’t told you you gotta split or anything, huh?” Jack’s grin twinkled in the glow of the sunset, light slanting handsomely off his features and…wow. Okay. Wow.

“I…sure! Yes!” Rhys exclaimed, tamping down his stammer as his lips grew to match Jack’s smile.

Rhys had never even dreamed he’d be invited to an industry party before.

Well—he hadn’t actually been invited, really? Jack had just kind of brushed past the guards at the entrance to the Omni Hotel’s main ballroom with Rhys at his side. No badge check, no ID check, not even a “hey, who are you?” just a seamless entrance into a room full of snappily dressed executive, scantily clad actors, and servers with trays absolutely laden with small, plated appetizers and booze of all different shapes and sizes and colors—some were even glowing from the plastic LED cubes that had been dropped into their glasses.

Rhys’ heart thumped in his chest, stimulated by all that was going on around him. The music was loud, the lights above flashing a multitude of colors, and people were calling and waving and clapping Jack on the shoulder as the actor sauntered through the crowd, grabbing a glowing, bright blue drink from one of the server’s trays and passing it to Rhys before grabbing a yellow one for himself.

“You haven’t had a proper drink all day, sweetheart—“ Jack winked, taking a sip, “—come on, loosen up and have some fun. Not every day you get to party with Handsome Jack Lawrence, huh?”

He nudged Rhys’ in the ribs, laughing as he waved to a willowy, well-dress man whose wispy blond head stuck out above the crowds.

“Aye, Blake! Blakey,” Jack schmoozed as he slinked up alongside the man, who took a pointed sip of his tall, bright green liquor. Rhys squinted at the man’s drawn, almost bored expression, and as those flat, rusty eyes looked down upon him, Rhys let out a gasp.

“Oh, you’re, you’re Jeffrey Blake—“

“Best damn producer in the biz—well, when he ain’t trying to slash my budget.”

“You don’t always need an on-set hot tub, Mr. Lawrence, especially not when the picture is already financially overblown,” Blake replied crisply, thin, nigh invisible eyebrows rising as he looked Rhys up and down. The young man squirmed, taking a distraction drink of alcohol.

“Yeah yeah, whatever Blakey, you know a happy Jack is a Jack that will really help you reel in the big bucks,” the actor laughed, smacking Blake on the elbow. The man’s drink sloshed in his hand, dripping green liquid down the side, his thin, tight lips reflected in the glass.

“Indeed, Mr. Lawrence. Let your agent know to contact me to negotiate your salary for the next picture, mm?” Blake commented, before whisking around in the crowd, leaving Jack to gulp down the remainder of his drink and toss it on a passing server’s tray, nearly causing the glass to skid off the tray and fall to the floor.

“Awww, forget him, Rhysie, he’s got a stick up his ass a foot long. C’mon—“ Jack tugged at the young man’s wrist and yanking him in the direction of the full bar, from where the trays of bright glowing drinks continuously spilled from.

Rhys had done his best to keep himself fairly sober—after all, as far as he knew, he was still on the clock, trying his best to do his job of keeping Jack away from mischief, even if their evening had already taken a couple of turns.

He’d restrained himself to the one, bright blue drink Jack had thrust into his hands when they had entered, but that was more than enough to loosen him up—Vaughn always teased him about being a lightweight, after all. The dancing and the loud music and the throngs of really really attractive people definitely helped, too, and despite his earlier nervousness, Rhys was having a great time. A couple of the guys and girls had even flirted with him, and he’d also gotten a number from some girl with bright red hair and eyes like liquid gold—only for Jack to snatch it from his hands and rip it up as soon as she’d disappeared back into the crowd.

“I—Jac—Mr. Lawrence, why did you do that?” Rhys tried his best to drive the affront from his voice, but that girl had been pretty cute and maybe Rhys wouldn’t have called her after all this was said and done and he went back to being a boring nerd, but…it would have been a nice thing to think about.

“Cause, pumpkin, Lilith da Firenze is baaaad news. You really don’t wanna mess with that bitch. Just trust me on that one, ‘kay?” Jack tossed the number’s remains on the floor, before leaning back against the bar counter and bringing the rim of his fourth—or fifth, maybe, Rhys had been too distracted by Lilith’s tattoos to keep proper track—drink to his lips.

“But…I dunno…I’m just trying to flirt. I mean. You’re the one who said we were gonna have fun tonight, right?” Rhys dared to pipe up, his tongue loosened slightly by the alcohol. Jack turned, shooting Rhys a look that the young man couldn’t quite place, but for a moment he looked almost upset, which was impossible, because Jack Lawrence didn’t get upset, he just got mad enough to “fix” whatever was pissing him off. Rhys flinched, fingers slipping against the condensation on his still-empty glass as he half expected Jack to start yelling at him

“You’re right, pumpkin,” Jack winked slyly as he turned in his seat, sliding both of their empty glasses over the counter, “so how’s about we order a couple more glasses of fun, then, and see what happens?”

And against his better judgment, Rhys agreed, letting Jack order them something long and complicated that tasted like way too much booze but lifted the happy, fuzzy feeling that was starting to bloom around his heart.

Though he was a lightweight and could easily get tipsy after one drink, Rhys was proud of his ability to quickly sober up when he needed to. So just as a drunken Jack was starting to get into it with a well-built, young actor with a sandy blond crew-cut, Rhys’ brain cleared with the sudden ring of Ms. Moxxi’s words, and he quickly ushered Jack out of the party and out into the main lobby.

He thanked his lucky stars that Jack was also staying in the Omni, and after a couple seconds of frustrated mumbles Jack managed to fish his obsidian room key out of his pocket and thrust it in Rhys’ direction.

The actor leaned up against the mirrored walls of the elevator, grunting out his floor number as Rhys inserted the key card into the slot, granting them both access to the penthouse suites.

Because of course someone like Jack Lawrence wouldn’t stay in a normal room.

And normal room it wasn’t—the suite was gorgeous, overlooking the entire downtown area through massive, floor to ceiling windows that made Rhys feel like he was teetering on the brink. The floor of the living room was sunken in, decorated with modern decor and artwork that was little more than abstract splashes of color that vague resembled some key city landmarks. A TV bigger than the windshield of Rhys’ car hung from the wall, but Jack brushed by all of that, barging through the door leading to his bedroom. Rhys swallowed, wondering if he should just leave, considering he’d done what Moxxi had told him to do, and gotten Jack safely, and with minimal scandal, back into his hotel room.

Surely that was the end of his handling duties, righ—

Before he could even think about heading out of the room, Jack fumbled back through the doorway, heavy arms throwing about Rhys’ shoulders as he drug the young man into the bedroom. Rhys barely suppressed a squeak, mouth suddenly dry as he realized he’d been pulled into the same place where Jack Lawrence slept. And where he did—well—who even knew what else.

“Jeez, Rhysie, you act like you need a frikkin’ invitation everywhere….” Jack hiccuped, boozy breath puffing against the side of Rhys’ face. He swayed on his feet, balance so off-kilter that Rhys gasped, stepping into a wider stance as he braced one hand against Jack’s middle. His cheeks flushed red when he realized he could feel the tone of the actor’s abs, making Jack laugh.

“You’re a sweet kid, you know? S’been….real fun today, watchin’ you stumble your way through them swanky shindigs. Like a…like a baby deer…’specially with…them legs…” Jack petered off, voice growing slower and more sluggish, and before Rhys could react Jack’s full weight was leaning on his body, tipping the young man over until his back hit the soft bed with a small thump.

Rhys’ heart was beating so quickly he was pretty sure it was going to pop right out of his chest. He turned his head to the side, attempting to wiggle his arms out from under Jack’s bulk, only to stop as he saw Jack’s face was relaxed, his eyes closed and breath even against Rhys’ collar. Rhys boggled at the sight for a second, making little, protesting noises to test his presumption but…no, no, it was definitely true.

Jack Lawrence had passed out on top of him.

Rationally, Rhys should worry about how compromising this position was, how bad this would look if anyone else were to walk in right now. He should be worried about how Ms. Moxxi would react to something like this, if she were to try to call either him or Jack right now, or about how hanging half off the bed was definitely not a comfortable position for a drunken man to sleep in.

But really, all he could think about in that moment, was how nice Jack’s face looked up close.

Sure, Rhys had seen plenty of close-ups on Jack’s face in his various movies, or in the posters that scattered about his room back at his and Vaughn’s apartment. But there was something clean and smooth about it in those images—run through editing software and smoothed down as they probably were.

This close, Jack had pores, had slight blotches in his perfect skin that Rhys hadn’t really noticed before. There was a faint patch of freckled skin underneath one of his eyes, and the barest hint of wrinkles around his nose and forehead. The stubble that poked out from his chin and the square line of his jaw was slightly uneven, and peppered with little spots of new grey.

Rhys swallowed around the thick lump forming in his throat, and he stopped trying to shift Jack off of where he was pinning him down. His hand rested atop Jack’s muscled forearm, which was splayed out against the rumpled bedsheets.

Jack’s lips were slightly chapped. The sticky evidence of the night’s expensive drinks clung to the corner’s of his mouth, slack lips slightly shiny from saliva. His breath was warm, smelling of whiskey and cola and all the fancy bar tapas he’d wolfed down in between drinks.

Rhys lapped at his own lips, his eyelids fluttering half closed. Any restraint he had had been numbed by the night’s alcohol, leaving him with little more than his most basic want.

He…he’d loved Jack’s movies his entire life. He had his posters, his pictures, his action figures. Jack had been his first crush, back when he’d worried something was wrong with him.

And here he was, with Jack’s toned body resting over him, his real face with his real lips resting mere inches away from Rhys’ own. The young man’s throat quivered, eyes eager and watering as he slowly, closes the gap between them, pressing his lips against Jack’s waiting pair.

He let his eyes flutter shut, wanting nothing but the feeling, the warmth of Jack’s slack lips pressed against his own. He inhaled, tasting the faint burn of Jack’s alcohol in the back of his throat as he held their mouths together, not wanting to have to part from the kiss that sent swirls of content warmth through his chest all the way to his belly.

Rhys vowed to remember this brief moment, from the way Jack’s mahogany cologne still drifted through the day’s haze of alcohol and sweat to the way his chin scratched ever so slightly against his own soft skin, and he was ready to finally pull away when suddenly something warm and wet invaded his mouth.

A muffled cry sprung from Rhys’ throat as Jack’s lips suddenly started to move, kissing him roughly as the actor’s tongue probed deep into his mouth, tangling with the young man’s own tongue as a warm palm firmly cups Rhys’ cheek. The formerly still, heavy body atop him suddenly began to move again, propping up on shaky knees as Jack arched above him.

The reality of what was happening slammed into Rhys and he pulled away from Jack’s lips with a gasp, hand pushing weakly at the actor’s chest.

“J-Jack, wha—“

“You can’t just do something like that, kitten,” Jack groaned, lips still a hairsbreadth from Rhys’, “and expect me not to respond…”

The actor’s voice was husky, a far cry from the snarky, lazy timbre Jack had been using all day. His eyes were shadowed, lids heavy as he glances up at the young man.

“I…I…” Rhys stammered, face practically cooking from how bright red and hot he was with embarrassment, “I’m sorry, I’m s-so so sorry.”

“Why?” Jack’s thumb trailed down Rhys’ jawline, smoothing up his chin to press firmly against the young man’s lower lip.

“Be….Because…I kissed you…?”

“Plenty of people have kissed me, baby,” Jack murmured, thumb rubbing circles into Rhys’ lip.

“Okay…I know that but you were sleeping and I’m just a….just a…”

“Just a what?”

“I mean…I’m not a…movie star or anything. I’m not a model or heiress or socialite. I’m not even like…a producer…or even the guy who gets coffee…I’m really not…anything.”

“Aw jeez, really?” Jack snorted, shaking his head as he shifted, straddling Rhys’ thigh with one knee dangerous close to the young man’s crotch.

“Pumpkin, we had fun today, didn’t we?”

“I…” Rhys stammered, trying to force his heavy tongue to work properly, “…I mean, yeah. I did have fun.”

“Great. And you know what? I did too. For once, it was nice to have someone around who wasn’t trying to get me to star in their movie or be their spokesperson or sign their firstborn’s forehead or whatever.” Jack spread his finger along Rhys’ lips, stroking the velvety plump.

“So why does the fun have to stop just ‘cause you got me back to my room?”

Jack left no space for Rhys to answer, instead pressing their lips together once more. The young man felt his heart genuinely skip a beat at that, his eyelids fluttering as he relaxed into the feeling of Jack’s warm, spicy mouth moving against his own, kissing Rhys until the boy felt he could no longer breath.

Jack finally let up, leaving them both panting. Rhys’ entire body was trembling, overwhelmed as his idol’s hand drifted down his chest, softly popping open the buttons of his shirt to expose a patch of pale, teasing skin.

“So…is that a yes, kitten?” Jack whispered against Rhys’ lips, grinding his crotch against Rhys’ thigh until suddenly firm hands pushed against his chest, shoving Jack over onto his back. The actor let out a grunt as he was thrust down against the bed, his frown quickly melding back into that trademark smirk as Rhys sat firmly atop him, nervousness barely glinting in his eyes as he looked down at the actor, cheeks flushed with need and smiling burning with excitement.

“Oh Jack, god—yes.”

#text #long post #fanfic #rhack #comic con AU #this is just random but it blossomed into something huge hahah oops #well i hope you guys like it #tftbl

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bangtannnscenariosbro · 8 years ago

Text

Hogwarts Students!BTS

Admin River speaks: ok i’ve had this idea for sO long and I’ve been rereading the series again for the 5th time rip me. but yeah just these are my opinions pls dont attack me ddjjfjfjs. Also I made this a while ago and recently Namjoon wrote where the members would be, I know, I know. So without further ado, enjoyyyy

Tae

• the cute Gryffindor who always seems to smile • messy hair • and robes • his shirt is usually unbuttoned a few buttons • loose tie • his wand behind his left ear • chaser !!! • usually gets out of trouble because none of the teachers seem to be able to r e s i s t his s m i l e • headmaster/mistress probably has a soft spot for him • probably has rlly good grades, like all O’s maybe a few E’s • “but, professor” • can be restless and talkative in class • is probably rlly into care of magical creatures • Hagrid would absolutely a d o r e him • just so full of life • in the choir bc yes boi • h o g s m e a d e especially when its s n o w i n g

• most likely part veela

• like have you s e e n him

• beauty right there • is able to smuggle in firewhiskey

• laughs when the other students cant drink it and make a face

• laughs even more when they watch in horror as he downs a cup

• “the hell, tae ???”

• j o k e s h o p

• loves the Weasley’s joke shop

• talks to the ghosts and portraits a lot

• has probs accidently charmed a couple ladies in the portraits

• which comes in handy when he finds out all these secret passages

• loves flower crowns and loves making them during the spring

• “here yoongi i made u one”

• “..... I'm more concerned as how u knew thats my favorite flower.”

• “that’s your favorite flower?”

• “.... forget i said anything.”

• k just imagine after a game he flies down from his broom with a huge grin and pushes he goggles up and so his hair is all wild and even more messy

• n he brings every1 in a group hug and cheers “we won, we won !!!”

• even if they dont win be celebrates with the other team

•...somtimes.. be gets pouty tho

• “we literally could have won that was a foul :(“

Jin • cute Hufflepuff • always so full of advice

• if u want u could set up a lil date with him at hogsmeade to just talk about your problems and sip a warm drink • so s o motherly • sometimes he has a loose tie and disheveled hair • he has rlly nice skin and the other students are like ??? tell me ur secrets ??? • hufflepuff’s dorms are by the kitchens so he probably made friends with the elves working there • can probably walk in and out whenever he wants • the few times he walks in late to class he probably has a few crumbs on his mouth or robes or maybe like some sugar or flour and its so e n d e a r i n g • such a good student • pays so much attention in class • sometimes wears those glasses, you know which ones • the girls probably all like him • and a few boys too hehe coughsnamjooncoughs • probably likes charms and maybe divination • he probably also likes herbology • also is probably in the choir because i mean have you h e a r d h i m • loves going to Hogsmeade • probably is pretty good friends with Madame Rosmerta • exchanges recipes with her • he seems so sophisticated and people probs look up to him a lot • p r e f e c t • h e a d b o y

• tells so many jokes to first years

• windshield laugh

• u would think the first years would be scared but no???

• they end being less nervous and smile and giggle with him

• even jin gets slightly surprised

• they end up getting close with him and almost like his own kids

• “but jiiiiiiiiinnn”

• “fine :/”

• ok but he stops so many fights n things from escalating too quickly

• both in the dorms and in bts

• even a couple teacher drama incidents

• professors lowkey want him to stay n teach there

• gets so worried??? About people ???

• he has a nervous tick where he keeps rubbing his hands as if he's putting on lotion

• but if he's rlly worried he's absolutely still and that's probs when u should be worried too Yoongi • ok he was rlly hard • like i wanted to say slytherin but idk i felt like i was stereotyping a bit by looks • i wanted to say ravenclaw but like idk man • i think I’m settling for g r y f f i n d o r • he’s rlly brave, man, like he went through so m u c h and he is so strong and f i g h t s back yanno • some ppl probably can't understand why he’s a gryffindor and he wants to keep it like that lol • he’s never seen doing his hw most of the time but gets ??? Perfect scores??? • he unbuttons one button on his shirt because its t o o t i g h t dammit i cant breathe • also slightly loose tie • defense against the dark arts all the way bro • a knack for transfiguration but gets so flustered when the professor compliments him which means red cheeks and wide eyes for days • hypes up quidditch so m u c h • like if its rlly cold and its raining he’d be like ew gross no im not going • but is a l w a y s there • gummy smiles and screaming when they win • he’s rlly good at quidditch but never joined bc “too much responsibility” • he’s lowkey insecure about his skills but sshh dont tell anyone • probs joins like 5th year

• a beater probably

• helps with stress lol • he has so much confidence and ppl appreciate that and wish they had that

• joon gave him a music box once cause he thought it was rlly pretty n yoongi just fell in love with it

• ink stained fingers

Jimin • the cute hufflepuff everyone adores • hypes up friends 25/8 • talks in class and then gets sheepish and embarrassed when he gets called out to stop • will fight??? Anyone ??? Who messes with his friends ??? • but liek if u hurt him u suddenly got all of hufflepuff as ur enemy sorry bro • he’s so so sweet like he probably gives all his professors gifts for the holidays • homemade cookies (with the help of jin ofc) • probably takes up knitting so that he can make scarfs 4 his frens • always there at quidditch games and hypes all his friend even if they’re against each other • he’s so reliable??? • giggles 4 days • but liek he is so cute n innocent but has laser focus and is so passionate about getting things done some ppl are just ??? Slytherin tho ??? • he’s the loyalist loyal to ever loyal • he probs enjoys muggle studies • muggle studies and potions • he likes the fact that you get all these ingredients and then end up with this huge product that can save lives or end them w i l d t • will stay up rlly late if u need someone to talk to • will also make sure u go to ur dorm safely and probably tuck u in

• the kind of person every1 wants 2 protect

• but dOnt be fooled this boi can be solo mischievous

• its ok tho he cute

• he's like hot chocolate with whipped cream and caramel sauce

• ya feel?

• will break the rules if he has to don't underestimate him

• don't underestimate him in general

Namjoon

• ravenclaw!!!

• this boi is so smart like he could have easily pursued a career academically n wasnt he top of his class too ?

• even if that's wrong his lyrics sure prove it right

• he would do certain things and ppl would be like typical ravenclaw

• at first he was proudful of his house but then he slowly started getting insecure

• he didn't want to be known as this typical ravenclaw

• but he soon realizes that it's ok because he's just being himself n if ppl need to label things then o well

• v awkward but so w i s e

• like he thinks of so many abstract ideas that like??? It's amazing??

• carries around a lil notebook full of stories and poems

• so much p a t i e n c e

• he also feels so deeply and sometimes feels like exploding so he probably gets in lil moods where he wants to be alone

• luckily he has his frens (bts) who r like uhm bro let's talk

• so sweet and just wants the best 4 ppl but its sometimes hard to express t h a t

• stresses out easily during exams

• laughs and smiles that make flowers grow

• p r e f e c t a n d h e a d b o y

• he does lil things like save u butterbeer if ur not feeling well or get u sum sweets from Hogsmeade

• such a sweetheart

• luvs spending time outside especially during the spring

• lowkey writes poetry about his friends

• he just appreciates them so much

• transfiguration and ancient runes boi

• l i b r a r y

• Filch probably picks on the poor boy like

• joon is running back to his dorm after a study session in the library

• n filch is like iTs AftEr Hours

• and joon is like ??? I have 5 minutes ???

• sometimes he goes wide eyes like a deer in the headlights when he panics or doesn't know what's going on omg protect this boi

Hoseok

• okAy he's Ravenclaw tOo fIght mE

• he is just so fascinated by learning new things like

• wth that plant can do that???

• that animal exists ???

• w ow i e

• ok but sunshine boi

• is absolutely excited about herbology and care of magical creatures

• also charms

• he's just always so excited to learn new things !!!

• he stresses easily tho and breaks down a lot bc he gets a lot of pressure to get good grades

• like boi that's not ravenclaw calm ya shit

• frens defend him 25/8

• keeper!!!

• he learns to keep his wand hidden in weird places and like pulls it out at random places and ppl are like ???

• lots of screamign and happiness

• ppl get annoyed but it's hoseok he can do no wrong

• asks weird questions that are somehow relevant to the subject but r so abstract that even some professors are baffled

• he's so flexible ???

• like some ppl r just ??? How the h e ck??

• n liek the lil shit he is he winks and says “magic”

• lots of “hobi why”

• charms banners for quidditch when he doesn't play so they're all pretty n cool

• the school doesn’t suspect it's him

• him sharing a bunk with namjoon !!!

• luvs visiting Hagrid with Tae

• always has a new piece of info about dragons 2 share with Hagrid

• robes r usually wrinkled

• him wearing flower crowns/ bracelets that tae makes

Jungkook

• okay so

• hear me out

• s l y t h e r i n

• he was 15 when he debuted n liek ???

• he's 19 now ?? Thats a lot of ambition and hard work

• also he's a meme n he's cunning when he wants stuff

• n he also said he can handle hard schedules but when bts starts to hurt that's when he feels bad like ???

• but liek he gets kinda insecure sometimes bc slytherin is “””””bad””””””

• but he gets a talk from namjoon that ppl will be like that n to just ignore because a house is just supposed to let u be surrounded by ppl who r similar to u to learn better

• he also lowkey gives him permission to beat any1 up

• when he was younger he would sometimes sneak to other dorms

• to be with one of the members since be was insecure n shy with his house members

• but he soon grew confident and made other friends and bts were like proud moms lol

• seeker!!!!

• he always feels bad going against his frens but they just wink at him n he gets confidence

• frequent visits to madame pomfrey bc he a daredevil smh

• joins choir like 3rd year

• he hesitated for so long because he's an insecure bab and !!!!

• but tae n jin r liek cmon boi ur very good let's do this

• he pretends to be a bad boi with bts but he barely gets a glimpse of a professor n he quickly straightens his tie n smooths down his shirt

• art !!!!

• he likes to sketch ppl

• “hey yoongi do this with ur hands”

• wavy haired jungkook 6th n 7th year !!!!!

• his book bag has at least 2 sketchbooks

• he would feel so bad when ppl would notice his robes and point and whisper

• but they realized how he actually was n how bts treated him

• vvvv talented

• catches on to concepts right away

• ppl think he likes defense against the dark arts but actually……..

• care of magical creatures is his fav

• probs lowkey likes astronomy

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