#my top artists are basically my parents. they raised me for who i am today

[sliced-fruits]

[jiminrings]

BALLOON ANIMAL ARTIST JK I JUST FEEL LIKE HE WOULD BE REALLY GOOD AT IT AND MAKE YOU A FLOWER THEN ASK YOU ON A DATE

baby i love u and your big sexy brain <3 welcome to waikiki meets hospital playlist dynamic ft. balloon artist!jk

“who’s a good baby? is it you? iS IT YOU????”

you’d be the first one to admit that you had an exhausting horrible night

being a nurse sUCKS the life out of you and as much as it’s fulfilling, you almost always feel the urge to admit yourself to the ER for being extremely fatigued

it’s all worth it!! it should be

after all, paying for a mansion in an exclusive village and sharing it with your friends doeS warrant some elbow grease

seokjin works in wall street and sometimes he comes home crying but it’s okay because you do have an expensive fridge that everyone worked overtime for <3

hoseok’s a veterinary assistant and is your trusty friend who always sends in pictures of the animals that come in to cheer you up while at work

namjoon’s a painter by passion and accountant by profession!! he does only come out with a few pieces at a time but mAN does it rake in the money

jimin’s a flight attendant and does everyone the pleasure of securing either free or discounted tickets, and bringing home unused airline towels to dry off the dishes!!

lastly, taehyung’s someone you can call a former trustfund baby or somewhat :O the last big chunk of money he spent from his fund was the downpayment and security deposit for this mansion!!!

it’s a long story and he’s currently all over the place but he’s finding regular jobs!! his latest gig was working at a high-end ice cream place but he immediately quit once he learned that he needed to put his back into it and not just scoop up ice cream like he did in his dreams :((

most importantly, taehyung has a baby :-)

he’s a dad!! a single one at that

it’s truly a LONG story but the bottomline is that he has nabi, his cutest little dumpling!! and he has all of you, his friends who didn’t hesitate to step up as nabi’s parents in a way too even if he didn’t ask any of you

you all love the chunky monkey so much that you’ve all taken the liberty to call him your baby at times and tae doesn’t even mind!! nabi’s so lucky (he hopes) to have him as a dad and his friends as his cool uncles and aunt

nevertheless, you indeed had a bad night working the night shift and came home to nabi’s birthday party just in time!! :D

he turned two years old at midnight and even if you weren’t physically present at the mansion like the guys were (they requested their leaves two months earlier) because of being understaffed, you were able to see him and tae blow out multiple cakes that each one bought him

seeing him giggle at your arms just by doing the bare minimum makes you full already <3

all your exhaustion is melted away because it’s your favorite toddler’s birthday party!! the party that you all insisted on shelling out for that made tae almost cry bc of how much you all love his son

“jimin i am not sewing your forehead up when you end up falling in the wrong angle,” you roll your eyes at him who’s currently doing backflips in the bouncy house that managed to fit in the mansion

“hoseok can!!” he yells back and backflips twice in a row, much to the actual children’s amusement and your worry

“i will NOT stitch you up! the thread i have is for the pregnant dogs only!!!”

everyone’s entertaining guests left and right, including taehyung who’s the dad of the little man of the hour :D

he keeps pointing at nabi who’s currently in your arms every ten seconds and it’s now your job to make him giggle every single time to wave at the people

“what do you want, monkey? do you want some ice cream? i won’t tell your dad,” you eagerly ask the wide-eyed baby in your arms, pointing at the ice cream cart that namjoon probably ordered

“no thank you!” nabi cutely aND politely declines, his head shaking no and his speech and pronunciation getting clearer day by day

most of the time though he says it like tHANK YEWWWW and you would immediately grin every time because it’s the cutest thing ever

“hmm, look at that!! face painting!! do you want some butterflies?”

you point at yet another station that you guess seokjin arranged, knowing that at some point into this party, he’d all drag you in here to get matching marks or something lol

nabi once again declines, his eyes searching around that makes you do the same on what you could do to entertain him

he has the same habit down like taehyung and loudly gASPS, pointing his finger and almost shrieking in excitement

“bawoo — balloon!!! balloon!!!”

:O

it is now your life purpose to walk as fast as you could to this balloon station with nabi bouncing up and down your arm in excitement

jungkook’s having the time of his life here :D

normally he’s mostly called in the holiday season and occasionally at big birthday parties (the one where like two sides of the family share every baby’s first birthday party lmao) throughout the year!!

but he’s never had a client who requested him for a singular birthday party!! let alone at a hOUSE

ok maybe that was an understatement

he means a mansion

if he’s being quite honest, the mr. park jimin he spoke to on the phone sounded too kind that he just mistakened him for a party planner or something

he immediately said yes because he had no on-site bookings for that day, or even the week perhaps, and expected to stroll into a carnival in the middle of an executive village

aha :D jungkook is wrong :D

jimin met him by the front door wherein a lot of people are already crossing paths such as catering and not to mention the bouncy house you cAN’T miss, and just briefly touched in on the situation

“oh no, i’m not the dad, man — but thanks!! i’m his uncle. nabi’s dad is my friend, taehyung. and me and my friends, including taehyung, all live here. we’re all like family, basically.”

jungkook saw the other stations invited and he expected that his would have less children y’know?? bouncy house, ice cream station, facepainting, hotdog cart aND magic show???? yeah <3

but god is he wrong

the children are in a single-file line for hIM and his balloon artistry!!! the requests range from pretzels to pirate hats to chandeliers with the bulbs as smiley faces!!!

he’s managed to do all of them so far and he’s now made a decent dent on the line of children waiting for him

jungkook is a happy and content balloon artist :D

“EXCUSE ME! BIRTHDAY BOY COMING THROUGH!!”

oh my god what was that

you’re walking at full-speed and holler out, making sure to emphasize birthday boy because nuh-uh you and nabi will nOT line up for his own party <3 thank you very much

the children coo and the older kids coax the other ones to make way for the both of you to the front of the line, immediately plopping to a mini chair in front of the guy

“hiiii!!”

nabi drawls politely and waves his hand, making you do the same

“what a cute little thing,” the guy in front of you coos and it’s his voice that perhaps makes you melt a little, just seeing the top of his hair for now because he’s crouching down to be eye-level with nabi, “what can i do for you, little buddy?”

he toothily grins and straightens his posture, raising his eyes to look at who’s holding nabi in place and-

???????????????????

jungkook literally stops breathing for a second

“h-hi!! what can i do for you today?” jungkook squeaks, his eyes even more wide and curious to look at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life

you’re sure that you were gonna stammer once you open your mouth so you don’t at all, instead focusing on nabi who’s on your lap

“what do you want, monkey?”

“nabi please! i want nABI!!! nabi nabi nabiiiiiiiiii-“

“yes. he wants nabi, please.”

jungkook nods fervently, his hands about to pluck ballons from his kit before he realizes to ask

“does he want his face? or like, his name? what colors do you want, bud?”

he’s not the least bit bothered at the choices in his head because you’re widening your eyes on what could this guy dO with just balloons, knowing to yourself that even pumping one is difficult work already

“oh! he wants nabi,” you clarify and jungkook tilts his head, mouth slightly agape at to what you’re trying to get at, “butterfly, i mean. nabi knows that his name means butterfly and he likes them a lot! don’t you, monkey?”

nabi nods so hard that it almost gives him a headache and jungkook wants to facepalm himself to the grave

“r-right! why didn’t i think of that?? because nabi means.... nabi....... right!! sorry, oh my god. o-oh! i meant oh my gosh. i uhm-...”

he’s a mess and he knows it, letting his hands take over and grab the same theme colors of blue and lavender from his bag to start on his work

kook tries not to lift his head up ever so often because you’d find him out instantly that he’s looking at you

so what he does instead is peer and coo at nabi every few seconds and tHEN look up at you because you also giggle whenever he giggles

he’s probably feeling pressure with the way your eyes are set on him too and what he’s doing that he pOPS a balloon right with his hands

“sorry, sorry! did i spook you?”

jungkook’s worried because he heard a collective gasp from the kids around him but his main priority is the birthday boy AND you

nabi’s shoulders rose and that’s about it

he shakes his head to himself, looking at you who’s carrying a curious gaze on your face that looks amused

“sorry. i-it’s just you’re so pretty and-“

he’s embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl and her son and-

wait a second

the color just dRAINS from his face and he’s about to quit at the second

“oh my god i am so sorry. y-you must be nabi’s mother. you’re mr. taehyung’s-“

“friend!! i’m y/n, i’m just taehyung’s friend,” you interject quickly because you cannot believe that pretty boy called you pretty, and at the next breath thought you were taehyung’s wife, “and nabi’s my nephew. we’re all just friends who live together!! i have no boyfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

...

....

yeah maybe you embarrassed yourself this time

you may have said too much information to the balloon artist but jungkook’s just staring at you fondly

and nabi’s switching his gaze between the two of you and claps his hands to snap the two of you out of it lmao

kook chuckles to himself and he cannot stop smiling, even when he’s tying the last balloon to nabi’s butterfly

“there you go, cutie. happy birthday!!” he hands nabi the hUGE butterfly he just made but the sheer difference of how big it is makes the toddler even more happy, hugging it to his chest

jungkook watches you pepper kisses on nabi’s cheeks and that launches him into quickly pulling out balloons while your eyes are deviated from him, hands twisting and turning like his wHOLE LIFE depended on it

“my name’s jungkook, by the way,” he calls you when you’re just about to stand up, smiling giddily at you, “thought you should know.”

cute :-)

before you could thank him, he extends his arm and your mind recognizes the familiar shape which makes you smile instantly

jungkook made you a flower balloon <3

“i think i’ll remember you, jungkook.”

you laugh as the only thing you can smell from it is latex, the huge flower staring at you right in the face

jungkook sheepishly blushes, pursing his lips in happiness

“i’m free whenever you’re free — f-for a date, y’know? just so you could remember me more.”

.

.

.

bonus: dilf taehyung has his own drabble!!

bonus bonus: bestie anon brought my attention to these tiktoks below and gAWD i’m so happy <3

first, second

[sparetimeimagines]

They Surprise You Flowers | Haikyu!! Scenarios

Tags; Fluff, Soft Boys, Flowers

We need some fluff, I write a lot of angst and smut 😅🤷🏽‍♀️

Masterlist

Ushijima Wakatoshi

The door to the front of the office chimes, however you’re too busy to notice the commotion up front. Patients have flooded the office, with each and every room filled. Whispers around the clinic say “tall man with flowers” and “so handsome, I’m not surprised he’s taken”

But who’s the lucky girl he’s waiting on?

Ushijima waits by a window, holding a bouquet of wildflowers staring outside into his own oblivion.

“Did you hear about the guy up front?” Your friend stops by dropping a clipboard into the wall as you shake your head.

“A guy?” You raise a brow. “Nah I’ve been in the room with the crazy hypochondriac.”

“Yeah, he has flowers. Waiting on someone.”

You had to see who it was.

Having your coworker cover the rooms, you peak around the corner at the front, revealing a very familiar face.

“Toshi.” You smile walking past the front desk with the receptionist eyeing you with envy.

The tall, broad shouldered athlete turns away from the window. His smoldering, intimidating gaze softens when he sees you, scrubs scraping as you meet him. He immediately hands you the flowers, embracing your body in his, immediately making you feel small in the best way possible.

Eyes pierce your back as the handsome man watches you lovingly.

“I have missed you. We just got back.”

Toshi’s team was traveling with volleyball and those long days couldn’t have ended sooner. “You’re so beautiful.” He hugs you once more, kissing the top of your hair. “You smell good.”

“Thank you, Toshi.” A blush creeps along your cheeks.

The intimidating man hovers over you.

“I wanted to see you before I went home.” You notice the tired look in his eyes mixed along the love he holds for you. “I know you’re busy, however I’ll see you later.” The ends of his lips curl upward, gravitating closer to yours. “Does that sound fair?” He presses his lips on to yours, those you’ve been missing for so long.

“Fair enough.”

As he leaves, you return back to your desk with the bouquet of flowers and bragging rights for life.

“How did you bag someone like that?” Your coworker gasps and you shrug.

“He chose me.”

Tsukishima Kei

Your kids had Valentine’s boxes each and everyone decorated for your party. The girls wore their pretty pink and red dresses while the boys thought it was gross, but still had the coolest boxes for their valentines.

Heartshaped cookies and sweets in individually wrapped baggies spread on each desk, the room was ready for celebration. You observe the children running in glee around the classroom from behind your desk. You decided to wear a soft pink dress in leu of the holiday.

There’s a knock at the door, but nothing unexpected, your class was beginning to get a little rowdy, so maybe this was your warning.

You stand from your desk about to tend the door when it opens on its own.

In walks a bouquet of red roses with a card in the flowers. Large hands holding them catch your attention, leading to the blond who’s blushing baldy to match the bouquet.

“Kei.” A large smile spreads your lips generously. “What are you doing here?”

“What? Am I not allowed to see you? Are you gonna kick me out?” He teases handing you the flowers.

“Aww Kei, they’re so pretty! You shouldn’t have.” You cover your both and he attempts to pull them back.

“Find them. Give them back.”

“No! Stop Kei.” You stick your tongue out smelling the flowers.

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks looking at the kids. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Baby.”

“Happy Valentine’s. Does this mean I’m bringing supper?”

He smirks down on to you, a smug nod confirming your plans.

“Ms. Ln, is this your boyfriend?” One of the girls from your class asks and immediately Tsuki blushes.

“Yes mam it is.”

“Will you two get married and have a big fairy tale wedding?” Another chimes in and now you’re caught tongue tide.

“That’s right. She’s going to look very pretty and wear a big princess dress.” Kei reply catches you off guard, He loving your surprised reaction. The girl squeals and runs along to her friends as you turn to the blond.

“Kei, don’t tease my kids like that.”

“What?” He chuckles. “I wasn’t teasing, Babe.”

“What? So you’re saying you want to see me in a wedding dress?” You ask your boyfriend who throws his hands into his pockets looking off to the door.

“Possibly.”

“Mmhmm, sure Kei.” You shake your head and He kisses your cheek.

“Don’t forget dinner.” He winks walking out the door leaving you stunned.

Kageyama Tobio

You were used to the schedule by now. Wake up, go to your first job, a regular boring 8-5 job where you did paperwork and typed on a computer until clocking out. Then from 6-10 you served tables at the local cafe down from where you lived. With Kageyama being gone for months at a time playing volleyball, you had to stay busy. You needed to stay busy. You couldn’t bare the thought of missing him more than you had to.

Some girls were used to it, letting their significant other be gone for long periods of time. But not you.

Staying busy had your mind busy and that’s what you needed.

Plates balanced on your arms as you brought them to your table, you checked the drinks of another before going back into the kitchen for refills as another order comes up. The night had been so busy you hadn’t had to check your phone nonetheless catch your breath.

“Yn there’s people at the door.” Your manager calls you and immediately you book it to the front, seeing a man holding a bouquet of flowers looking out the door.

“Hey, how many will it be today?” Your basic routine came out of your mouth like usual and you begin to notice the man turning around looks oddly familiar.

“Err... just one, I’m looking for my girlfriend.” His naturally angry looking face softens as he sees you.

Forgetting about the menus, you crash into his body embracing him with the tightest of hugs.

“Oh my gosh! I- I’ve missed you so much.” You can’t help but sob into his chest, even if he is taken back by you.

Tobio stands there stiff as his hand gradually begins strumming along your back.

“When did you get back?” You release him as he hands you the bouquet of sunflowers. “Aww Tobio, thank you.”

He watches your face light up a tiny smirk at the ends growing.

“An hour ago. I had to shower.”

You rise to your tippy toes and kiss his lips.

“I wouldn’t of minded.”

“I would.”

He blushes his right hand coming up behind his neck.

You admire his appearance feeling your heart race.

“I had to see my beautiful girl.” He mumbles. “I missed you.”

You were used to his quiet nature, but today it hit you a little different, closer to when you first started to admire him. To you, he was perfect.

“So will it be one?” You grab a menu and he nods.

“Only if I can have that pretty girl.” He points past you and you smack him with a menu. “Fine fine... you will do.”

Akaashi Keiji

The sound of buzzing and groans echoed throughout the building as clients kept you busy. The shop has been extra busy lately. A special ran for the month with 15% off tattoos as long as they were from the artist’s books. You advertised around town and social media, bringing in a lot of business.

Your portfolio laid open across the table in your shop, and for a moment it finally felt like you were vacant.

The door chimes in the front as you were sanitizing your station.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Check out our portfolios.” You call, wiping down the bed from your last client.

Your parter left to grab lunch for the two of you leaving you alone in the shop.

Coming back up, you notice a bouquet of delicate peony’s in a vase on your counter and a dark headed man looking through your portfolio.

“I’m sorry sir, you have to be eighteen or have your parent’s permission.” You tease, your hands grabbing the portfolio.

“I’m sure we can strike a deal.”

Akaashi closes the book and leans in to kiss you. His hands slide around your waist as he embraces you.

“What’s this for?” You hum smelling a flower. He smiles shrugging, peppering your exposed skin in kisses.

“I just missed you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“No...” you smile turning back to him. “They’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you are.” He winks.

“Keiji... don’t tease.” You smack his chest causing him to chuckle.

“I’m not.”

You two relocate to the couch, you kicking your feet up in his lap.

“How much longer to have here?” He asks even though you know he knows the answer.

“A few hours.”

“Damn.” He frowns opening your portfolio to a certain page in particular. “I like this one.”

“That one right here?” He points to a grey scaled tattoo.

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should let me tattoo you.”

“Tattoo me?”

“Yeah! Just your knuckle. Look we can get matching ones. Please.”

“Flowers? In exchange for a tattoo? Sounds like it’s my lucky day.” He smirks cupping your face.

“Oh my gosh, really? You’ll let me?”

“Pretty girl, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hey now, don’t push your luck, Keiji. Nothing’s for free.”

“Well.” He starts. “I’ll pay you back later, little girl.” He kisses your lips once more and you lead him into the back.

“I believe something can be arranged.”

[excelsi-or]

just a little sweeter (pt.9)

Heeelllooooooooo, friends~ It’s been ages since I’ve had a chance to post on here. I hope you’re all well and being safe. For those of you who also went back to school, I hope it hasn’t been horrible. And if it has been, God, I know the feeling. I’ve had to rearrange my schedule and reevaluate some things so that I have more time for writing. Not just this story, but the two big personal projects that I’ve been working on for most of the year. 

BIPOC rec (because hell yeah we’re still doing this): A couple that I found who do workout videos (I’ve been slacking on the exercising because I hate home workouts with a passion), MrandMrsMuscle. Check them out on YT. I’m currently doing their 30 day workout challenge, just to ease me back into consistency. Anyway, byyyyyyeeeee. (and good luck to my American readers. This election has been a rollercoaster of a ride to follow.)

w.c. 1.7k (fluuuuuff, I just wanted to write them interacting more. lol they touch a lot, but my love language is physical touch and those are just my favourite moments)

pt.1; pt.2; pt.3; pt.4; pt.5; pt.6; pt.7; pt.8

“So, it’s getting pretty serious,” Seungcheol comments.

Eunha shows Jihoon a picture that she’s working on. Jihoon kisses the side of her head. “I’m sure she’ll love it. I’ll let her know you’re making it so she can be excited about it.”

Eunha smiles up at him and he takes the opportunity to kiss her forehead. He straightens and addresses Seungcheol’s statement. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? It’s been a few months. You bring this woman with you when you go and do things with Eunha on your day off. How is that not serious? Your daughter spends time with her instead of at your parents’ when we go away for a few days.”

“That’s just a convenience thing.”

“Bumzu hyung lives in the area,” Seungcheol points out. “And he has definitely spent more time with Eunha than she has.”

“He’s not as good with Eunha as she is,” Jihoon answers. He slips back into his shoes. “Hyung, I don’t want to set my expectations too high. A few months really isn’t that long.”

“It’s long for you,” Jeonghan comments. He’d been sitting in the kitchen having a snack. “We can’t deny that fact.”

“Okay, yes, fine,” he groans. “Since Yeri, this is long.” He buries his hands into his pockets.

“You like her,” Seungcheol states.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

“Love?”

He feels his cheeks warming. The word has been floating around in his mind for a while. He hasn’t had the guts or the heart to mention it.

Jeonghan chuckles and meets Seungcheol’s gaze. “Wow. No wonder his love songs have gotten so good.”

Jihoon turns to the door before the boys can get into the brunt of the teasing. “Can you please just call me when you put Eunha to bed?”

Seungcheol huffs.

“I can bring her downstairs to Seungkwan if you’re going to be like this.”

Seungcheol sighs, following Jihoon to the door. “Yes, yes. I’ll call you.”

“Minghao said he’d be home later. So, if you can’t handle her, he said to pass her off.”

“Jeonghan and I can take care of Eunha for an evening,” Seungcheol insists. He gives Jihoon a nudge out the door. “Go. And be in love.”

Jihoon can’t be angry at them. Instead, he rolls his eyes once more and heads to her place.

He meets her in front of her apartment, and she has a wide smile ready for him. She’s bundled up in her winter coat, the collar covering nearly half her face. She bumps him lightly with her hip, hands buried deep in her pockets, and then loops her arm through Jihoon’s.

“What’s our plan this evening?” Her voice comes out muffled and Jihoon finds it oddly adorable.

He tips his head. “Well, I was thinking.”

“Good start.”

He snorts. “Shut up.” He starts over. “I was thinking about what you said last week.”

“Vague and mysterious,” she cuts in.

Jihoon pauses before continuing. “You didn’t get a chance to chew out a bad customer today, did you?”

She tips her head up to look at him. “Shit, you can tell?”

Jihoon throws his head back with a laugh. “You like a snarky remark, but not this many.”

She touches her head against his arm in endearment. “You just steal my heart more and more, Lee Jihoon.”

He ignores the flip in his stomach. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sighing, she shrugs. “This guy was just chewing out my girls when I was about to leave for the day. I had to ask him to leave the establishment.” She frowns. “I haven’t had to do that before.”

Jihoon feels a protective switch flip on despite the fact that she’s clearly okay and is an adult woman who can handle herself. “Did he lash out?”

“He told me I didn’t have the authority, but a few guys helped out. I told the girls to call me if he came back.” Her hand goes to her pocket. “I can’t stop checking to see if my phone is on sound.”

Jihoon glances down at her. All he can see is the top of her head. Her gaze is to the ground, unaware that he thinks she’s one of his favourite people he’s met in a while. And he’s met a lot of people in his short 24 years of living.

“But enough about my work, I’m here to spend the evening with you.” Jihoon looks away, anticipating her eyes to look up at him. “What did you have planned? Something about something I said last week?”

“Yes.” Jihoon pauses. “Pottery class,” he meets her eyes, “are you down?”

Her eyes widen and a smile blooms across her face. “Oh my god, you’d come to an art class with me?”

“You said you would love to see how artistic I actually am. I told you I’m not. You said something about pottery. And I heard it’s fun.”

Jihoon laughs when she starts to wiggle excitedly next to him. Despite both their thick coats, he can feel her happiness emanating off her. They wait at the bus stop, talking about anything and everything.

Jihoon has picked her up in a company car before, but she hadn’t liked the idea of someone waiting on them. She’ll do it if Eunha is with them, since her suggestion of using public transit almost made him throw up. But he’s willing to do it on dates if it keeps her this happy.

Jihoon pulls a mask from his pocket and hooks it around both ears. She tugs him after her onto the bus and he taps his card at the card reader. They stand near the door, holding the same bar. She grins up at him.

“What?” he whispers.

She stands on her tip toes and whispers back, “I’m so excited.”

Jihoon snorts. “Good.” He pecks her forehead through his mask.

They continue the ride in silence since the bus is quiet. When they get off at their stop, they gravitate towards each other and her arm automatically loops through his. She looks both ways.

“Where to?”

Jihoon leads her left and reads the names of the storefronts. He knows it’s between a café and a bookstore. Another reason why he’d chosen this specific pottery store for their lesson.

“This is us.”

She’s basically skipping towards the door. The bell trills overhead as they enter, a warmth passing over them from the heat of the space. Jihoon goes to the counter, taking off his mask on the way, while she admires all the pottery on display. The air smells like clay and peppermint.

“We have a lesson booked.”

“Lee Jihoon?” the woman at the desk asks, her eyes on the computer. “Ah, the teacher said he was expecting you. Come this way.”

“Yah,” Jihoon hisses.

She’s at his side in an instant. Her hand reaches for his and he leads her to the backroom. One of his teachers from a Going Seventeen episode stands before them. Jihoon had recalled that the man dabbled in pottery and he was familiar to Jihoon. He still kept the man’s painting of him on display.

“Hi, ssaem.” Jihoon bows and the teacher bows in response. “This is my…”

She looks to him expectantly, letting him fill the blank.

“Girlfriend,” he says, turning back to the teacher. “She’s the one who’s excited about pottery.”

The man bows to her and she bows in response. “Come in. Take your coats off; it’s going to get really warm in here.”

They get a private lesson. The two of them are sat at their own pottery wheels with the teacher correcting their form and giving them pointers. They each make three pieces. One vase, a bowl, and a figurine each. Hers are significantly better, but Jihoon chalks it up to her artistic hands. They laugh, joking with the teacher. She peppers him with questions between all the banter.

Their pieces will be put in the kiln once they dry a bit more and Jihoon will receive a text when they’re ready to be painted.

“That was the best date I’ve ever been on,” she says as they walk out of the store.

“Well that’s a bold statement.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that forever and it was so much fun to do it with you,” she sings.

Jihoon guides her into the bookstore next door without saying anything. Her eyes dart towards the books as they walk up and down the aisles. She picks books off the shelves and reads the synopses while they chat.

When Seungcheol calls because Eunha’s about to go to bed, she and Eunha talk about different books. By the time they all say goodbye, she has a stack of three children’s novels that they’re going to read together. She goes to the counter to pay and Jihoon beats her to the card reader.

“Jihoon,” she sighs, a smile on her face.

Jihoon shakes his head, tucking his wallet away. “This is still a date.” He’d kiss her if the employee wasn’t watching them. “I haven’t taken you home yet.”

She laughs and takes the brown bag offered to her. As they wander out of the shop, she thanks him.

He kisses the side of her head. “Now come on. You need to read me those books before you read them to my daughter.”

Her gaze lifts to meet his, an eyebrow raised in question.

“She talks about the characters from the stories you read and I can’t talk about them with her, because I’ve never read the books.” He leads her into the café. “So, what would you like, jagi?”

Both her eyebrows raise at the nickname, but she seems pleased. “Mint tea.”

“Go sit.” He nudges her towards the tables while he heads to the counter. “I’ll bring it to you.”

She yanks him back and whispers in his ear, “Best date ever.” Then she pecks him on the cheek before finding a table by the window.

She misses the deep blush that spreads across his face.

[angelsswirl]

Whatever Makes You Happy

Chapter 7: who are you to judge me

I wonder what she thinks of me when you stay awake

After you make love to her, but I'm still on your brain

You watched as Lisa grumbled around the penthouse disgracefully. Kijung and Dohyung seemed to notice as they eyed her oddly and stayed closer to you.

After her fourth time slamming a cupboard shut you had finally had enough.

"Lisa. Is something wrong?" You asked.

She gave you a look that clearly said 'What gave that away?'. She looked like she was about to speak before she turned and realized her kids were within earshot.

You got the hint, "Ki, Doh, did you clean your room like your mother asked earlier?"

"We know this is a ploy to get us out of the room so we don't hear your adult talk." Kijung got up from where he and his twin were playing video games on the livingroom floor.

"But we're running a bet to see who gets in trouble the least this week. So, we'll go." Dohyung continued. With that, they both left the room.

Lisa made a face, "They didn't get that from me." She raised her hands in surrender.

You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Anyway. What's got you all worked up today."

Lisa sighed dramatically before falling onto the couch, letting her body be taken with the momentum.

"My parents want to push up the wedding."

You froze in your seat, not that you had been moving anyway. But you had almost definitely stopped breathing.

You try to tell yourself this isn't a big deal. That Lisa was never yours to begin with. You haven't even had sex or anything like that.

But now, you definitely won't get to.

"Why?" It's soft and croaky and your mildly embarrassed.

"Money. Publicity. Same thing it always is. I thought I was being nice by letting my artists take breaks. Visit their families. But stocks are plummeting."

You fiddled with your fingers, "Then what does that mean..."

Lisa looked at you forlornly and sighed, "Who were we kidding, Y/N..."

That pissed you off.

She was kidding herself. She was the one who got you into this mess. She was the one who hired you on a whim, because she was horny and could probably sense that you were to.

She was the one who gave you false hope. Convinced you that maybe there could be something between the two of you.

And now...nothing.

"I'll be back in a little bit." You said without looking at Lisa. You trudged to the door and grabbed your jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking a day off. Don't wait up."

"Y/N-"

You didn't stay to hear her beg or reason or whatever it was she planned to do.

You just closed the door softly behind you.

~•~

About after thirty minutes of wandering aimlessly, you find yourself at the counter of a medium decency bar.

Your tequila dribbles bitterly over your tongue, but you don't exactly care.

"Hard day?"

You almost flinch out of your skin at the words. You turn toward the voice with a raised eyebrow, and proceed to almost spit out your drink.

The woman is gorgeous. Her soft brown eyes glint with a mischievousness you're mildly terrified of. And yet you feel compelled to talk to her.

"Uh yeah, I guess you can say that."

The woman nodded resolutely, "I've been there. Want to play a little game with me? I promise it'll cheer you up." That mischievous look is back with a vengeance, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't interested.

"...Sure."

"Nice. I'm Jennie, by the way." She held out her hand for you to shake.

"Y/N." You took her hand and shook it.

"So, Y/N. How much do you want to bet that I can get that hot bartender over there to kiss me?" Jennie nodded in the direction of the bartender with a tilt of her head.

You eyed the bartender that was currently at the other end of the bar. She was gorgeous as well and you could see why Jennie would want to kiss her. But if judging by the way she dealt with the rowdy men at the bar, you didn't think she would want to kiss Jennie back.

"Fifty bucks says she laughs in your face." You say. The tequila is definitely kicking in now.

Jennie raised an eyebrow and seemed to hesitate for a split second, before smiling devilishly again.

"Deal."

Jennie scooted closer to you, "I'm going to need to use you for this next scene, if you don't mind."

You shook your head. Jennie nodded and threw her arm around your shoulders. You leaned toward the bar and waved her hand in the air. Grabbing the bartender's attention.

You've never seen someone roll their eyes harder in your life.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, can you please get this fine woman next to me and I a few shots?" Jennie swayed a bit, playing up her inebriation.

The bartender just stared blankly, "Jennie. This better not be another one of your ploys to make me jealous."

Jennie threw her hands up into the air in exasperation, "Babe! You ruined it. I almost just made you fifty dollars in tips. All you had to do was kiss me."

The woman rolled her eyes again. She turned toward you, "Sorry about my girlfriend here. She turns into a con artist when she's drunk and bored. I'm Jisoo."

You laughed at the situation, "Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. What brings you into a moderately dingy bar at 1 am?"

Jennie looked at you as though she wanted to know the answer as well.

You debated telling them, you couldn't really. At least not in great detail. So you resorted to the basics. Maybe, you could finally start to move on if you talked about it with someone.

"Um, there's this girl...I really like her but a relationship is out of reach at the moment and sort of always will be. I guess I always knew that but it didn't really hit until today, y'know?"

Jisoo nodded, "Why's a relationship out of reach if you don't mind me asking?"

You stared down into your empty glass, "Because she's already in one."

"Oh, I can see how that would be a problem." Jisoo slapped Jennie on the arm lightly. Jennie pouted exaggeratedly.

"Okay...what do you like so much about this chick?" Jennie asked as she rubbed her arm.

That's as easy a question as you've ever been asked.

"She's driven, hard working, passionate, strong, funny-"

"She's hot?"

You chuckled, "Very."

Jisoo swiped at the bar counter top.

"It sounds like you really like her..."

"I do." You shook your head tiredly.

"Does she feel the same way about you?"

Lisa was hard to read, but there were somethings even she couldn't hide.

"I believe so."

"...I would like to preface what I'm about to say by emphasizing that I in no way condone cheating. And if anything bad happens, I get plausible deniability. It sounds like you need to listen to your heart."

"What does that mean, Jisoo?"

Jisoo smiled, "Whatever your heart tells you it means."

You blinked at her, so did Jennie, "Thank you for the help, Jisoo." You were only being slightly sarcastic.

She rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that night. She turned around and grabbed a bottle of some expensive alcoholic drink, "You'll get it in due time. In the meantime, drink up. It's on the house."

You didn't have to even think twice at that demand.

~•~

"Jen Jen.... you and chu are sooo HAWT together...caniwatchsometime." You slinked against Jennie's body and slurred your words together severely.

Jennie had been lucky to get your address out of you. She knocked on the door of the penthouse with a grunt.

"You forgot to mention you were rich." She mumbled.

"I'mnot riiich it's my bossy!"

Before Jennie could ask you to elaborate, the door opened, and that was just about all the elaboration she needed.

You looked from where your head was placed precariously on Jennie's shoulder, "LISSSSAAA! imissedyou. I mean I'm mad at you. Buti did miss you a little bi. I'm drunk."

Jennie pretty much let you fall into Lisa's arms unceremoniously.

"You smell great."

"What did you do to her?" Lisa said rather accusatory.

You can practically hear Jennie cross her arms and roll her eyes even in your state.

"If I did this to her do you think I would bring her home?"

Jennie raised a fair point.

"Fine. Sorry. Thanks for bringing her back..." Lisa sounded as though she would rather poke her eyes out then apologize, but she did anyway. She squeezed the bridge of her nose with the hand that you weren't slung across.

"Jennie. And don't worry. She's my new best friend. She's too good a person to let anything bad happen to." Jennie said pointedly.

"Yeah... Okay. Bye." Lisa attempted to close the door.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"She's in love with you, y'know?"

Lisa sighed heavily, "I had an idea."

"Look, I know you don't know me. And her and I just met. But I gave her my number and if she calls it and says she's heartbroken over you, because you led her on and let her believe in something that was never obtainable...I don't care if you're some all big and powerful and rich industry mogul, I will ruin your life." Jennie stuffed her hands into her pockets casually.

Lisa ground her teeth together, "Is that a threat?"

Jennie chuckled humorously, "No. It's a promise. It was nice to meet you, Lisa. Take care of her for me."

With that, Jennie turned on her heels, and strutted back down the hall.

Lisa only sighed again and shifted you in her arms.

[purplesurveys]

918

Have a friends survey, because I’m really missing mine.

-- List 8 Friends of Either Gender --

1. Andrew 2. Jo 3. Aya 4. Gabie 5. Hannah 6. Angela 7. Laurice 8. Aliyah

Questions About These Friends

Does number 4 have a driver’s license? Yeah. I’m pretty sure we were part of the first few people in our high school batch who learned how to drive and get our licenses.

Can number 7 speak another language? Well yeah, she can speak Filipino. Everyone on the list can at least speak Filipino.

Does 2 know your parents well? Not so much. She knows the basic stuff about my parents that I tell everyone, like how my dad works abroad.

Have 3 and 5 been in the same room together? Multiple times, until Aya graduated. All three of us were in the same applicant batch in our org so we spent a loooot of time together.

Does 1 have similar music tastes to you? Broadly, yeah. I know we both like R&B and hip-hop but he’s faaaar more passionate about the genre and he’s a lot better at picking out artists and songs.

Has 6 ever stayed at your house? She’s visited a handful of times, but I prefer going to her house instead. I don’t really have a lot to offer here whereas we never run out of things to do at her place.

When did 3 last text you? If we are talking of strictly texts, November 2018. Aya was never a good replier on text lol. But my last notification of her in general was at 4 AM today, when she sent a meme to our friends’ group chat.

Does 5 have any pets? If so, what do they have? Nope. WELP I don’t know actually. She lives all the way in Bacolod so her home life doesn’t get raised much. I know she loves dogs though.

Does 7 live in the same town/city as you? Nah, she’s a south baby through and through.

Have you ever lent something important to 8? I’ve never even met her yet. We keep planning to especially since she works in Metro Manila now, but our schedules just never work out.

Can number 1 sing well? Yes. He’s done a lot of singing gigs and as far as I know he even put out an EP at one point. He has a sick stage name too.

Does 2 have any siblings? Nah, she’s an only child.

If 4 called you at 2 AM, what would your reaction be? Take it and assume she has trouble falling asleep.

Who is 8′s best friend? I’m not sure; I don’t know her all that well. I would assume it’s someone all the way in Mindanao, since that’s where she grew up and went to school and her whole life is there - she really only moved to Metro Manila for work. That’s why I feel for her sometimes and keep offering to meet up, so she can feel less lonely.

Does 6 have a favourite tv show? If so, what is it? She loooves watching TV series but I never knew what her favorite is. Good question, I’ll have to ask her this soon.

Who out of 5 and 7 knows you the best? I say they both know me on the same level but I think Laurice does slightly more. We’ve had deeper conversations, so it’s a safe guess.

Does 4 have a boyfriend/girlfriend? You are reading her answers right now. ;)

Does 2 have a career/knows what they want to be? Yes, she’s always wanted to be a journalist. She’s entering her senior year now and I’m really proud and super impressed with her for being able to keep up such a demanding, brutal passion; I was burned out from journ by freshman year. She even helps run a fact-checking website now :) It had just been a requirement in her class to come up with a fact-checking website but theirs got SO successful, racked up some awards, and now it’s still going.

Have you ever kissed 1? No. He’s like a brother to me and that just sounds like the weirdest scenario.

Does 3 have or want children? Yes. I know she wanted them when she was with Jo, but I’m not sure if she’s changed her mind lately.

Does 6 have any piercings or tattoos? Yep, on her ears.

Do your parents know 8? No. She’s an internet friend, so I never get to raise it in conversations. And I doubt they’ll be happy if they found out I made a friend on the interwebs anyway.

Which Number...

Have you had romantic feelings for? 4.

Have you told a secret to? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,7, 8. I’m pretty open with my secrets, as dumb as that sounds lol

Have you shared a bed with? 2, 3, 4, 6, 7.

Have you watched a movie with? I remember watching The Devil Wears Prada with 2 and 3. I’ve watched several movies with 4.

Have you seen cry? 2, 3, 4, 6.

Have seen you cry? 1, 4, 5. 5 hasn’t seen me cry but she has definitely heard me.

Have cooked you something? 6 and 7 :) They’re also the biggest mom friends on the list, so I’m not surprised.

Have a boyfriend/girlfriend? 1, 4, 6. I’m not sure if 2 and 3 are still together; we never get to update each other anymore. Have met your parents? 2, 3, 7 from a meeting we once held at my house. And 4 and 6, of course - they’re my mom’s favorites.

Have been to the same school/college as you? Everyone except 8.

About Number One What age are they? He turned 22 in June.

Have you met their parents? Never. He can’t give less of a shit about his dad so I don’t care for him, though. I know he’s super protective of his mom.

Have you ever been in a relationship with them? Not at all. He wouldn’t be my type, and like I said he’s a brother to me more than anything else.

Do they like most of your other friends? We mostly have mutual friends, so. I know he likes my best frieinds though - he was even the one who reminded me about putting Angela on my thesis acknowledgments.

How often do you two meet up and/or talk? Back in school we used to see each other around 1-2 days a week. He’s a little busier than I am since he takes side gigs, so he’s not in campus all the time.

When did you last argue? We’ve never fought but the last time I got quite upset with him was last December. We were rushing to get our thesis draft submitted on time and apparently he submitted the file to our professor’s VIBER. He for sure got an earful from me that day.

What is their favourite food? I’m not sure. He does tend to have unpopular food opinions so I wouldn’t be surprised if his favorite is not a common choice.

Where is their favourite place to be? On the basketball court or anywhere with Leigh, I’m guessing.

How many close friends do they have? I know of at least two - JM and Blanch. He is friendly and has an extensive circle though, so I’m sure I’m missing several other close friends of his.

Number Two What colour are their eyes? Dark brown.

Have they known you the longest? Not at all. I’ve only known her for three years.

Where were they born? I’m guessing it would either be Manila or Makati.

Why are they your number 2? She just fell on the second slot. I was trying to randomize my friends’ names and hers just turned out to be the second one I thought of.

Do they like children? I don’t know how she feels about them exactly but one thing I know is that she doesn’t hate kids, and we’ve had numerous conversations on what we’d do in certain scenarios involving kids. 

Would they beat you in a race? I think so. But then again I did track at one point, so I’m walking onto that contest already with an advantage.

When did you last spend time alone together? Ugh c’mon man, this question is just sad. Jo had been hanging out at Skywalk less and less ever since most of the people in our friend group graduated last school year, so our last real hangout was probably that time we slept over at Laurice’s in June 2019. We never hung out a lot after that, and of course the lockdown just killed any chances we had of doing so.

Do they have a pet peeve? What is it? She has a lot of pet peeves but I can’t place any of them at the moment.

Number Three What is their hair colour? Black, as do most Filipinos.

What is their job, if they have one? Last I heard she got a gig with a major broadcasting network. I think she’s a segment producer? Segment researcher? Something of the sort.

Do they have their own place? I don’t think so; not just yet.

How many brothers or sisters do they have? I know she has a sister. I’ve forgotten if she has a brother.

Have you ever done something illegal with them? Yes hahaha illegal in university terms, at least. When we had free time and we saw that no one was using one of the classrooms in the college, our friend group snuck inside and played The Devil Wears Prada on the projector. As the only goody-two-shoes in the group I was super uneasy the whole time, but literally no faculty or staff checked in on us for the entire film. That was the moment I knew I was no longer in private school, where everyone watched you like a hawk lol.

How old were you when you met each other? I was 19, she was 21.

Are they more sporty, arty or academic? ARTSY. She’s one of the best artists I’ve ever seen and she can absolutely fucking slay any editorial cartoon.

Have you ever travelled out of country with this person? Nope. I would love to.

Person Four Do they have a favourite musician? St. Vincent’s been her fave for the longest time.

Have you drank alcohol with this person? Many times. When I drink she’s usually around.

Are their parents together? Yes.

What do you enjoy doing with them? EATING OUT!!! I also love going to new places and museum strolling with her, but yeah nothing works for me better than food with my favorite person.

When is their birthday? June 5th.

Do they have long or short hair? Long.

Have you been to a concert with this person? Yes, when we went to (illegally) see Coldplay from the top of a parking lot. Still felt like we were part of the concert grounds though.

If you asked them to describe you, what do you think they would say? Determined, hates to lose, and annoyingly generous.

Person Five Where did you two meet? I met Hannah on our enrollment day for our sophomore year in college. She and Macy had transferred from UPLB to UPD and since Macy and I were already friends from high school, she introduced me to Hannah. Then we became a lot closer when it turned out we were both applying for the same org.

How long ago did they phone you? We both hate phone calls and we’d hate to call/be called.

Do they have a certain sport they play? I don’t think she’s very athletic herself, but she loves watching UAAP games and she has a particular affinity for volleyball.

What about them annoys you sometimes? I never found her annoying. I did notice that her one weakness as a co-worker is her fear of being assertive, putting her foot down, being confident to come up with her own steps on how to come up with steps towards a situation, that kind of stuff. She often wanted someone who she felt like was more knowledgeable to be by her side and make all the decisions. But I did see her bloom a bit after a few months, so I’m proud of the progress.

Are they ruled by their head or their heart? Heart.

Are they male or female? Female.

In what ways are they the opposite of you? She’s religious and she loves to sing and perform.

How many rooms do they have in their house? No clue; I’ve never been to her house. I’ve never even been to her city.

Person Six Can they play an instrument? I think she knows *a bit* of guitar. But she’s not crazy gifted when it comes to musical instruments, I know that much.

Are they close with their mother? VERY. And she has no reason not to be - her mom is the nicest and most compassionate person I’ve ever met. Always treated me like family.

Do you know any of their siblings well? She’s an only child.

How many times have you visited their house? Countless, especially in high school and in our first few years in college.

When did you last go out to eat together? Feb. It was one of the food stalls at The Palace and we needed to eat away all the alcohol lol.

Do they own a bike? I haven’t seen one in her place so I’m assuming no. Her neighborhood is not very bike-friendly to begin with, so it’s understandable.

Do they have a sweet, sour or salty tooth? She has a...green tooth? Hahahaha she likes eating healthily.

What music genre do they listen to most? Pop, pop rock, indie, indie rock.

Person Seven Would you ever consider dating this person? Probably not. She’s SO stable and happy; I’m still working on it. I wouldn’t want to dump my shit on her vibrant and bubbly outlook on life.

Do they prefer cats or dogs? Dog, I think. I don’t know for sure though. 

Are they or do they plan to go to college? To study what? Yes, she’s in her senior year now. She’s also taking up journalism – it’s how we met.

If they did something illegal, what would it be? I highly doubt that would ever happen lmao, she’s super nice and such a goody-two-shoes. If she got caught doing something illegal it’s 100% only because she was with someone who did the thing.

Have you ever shared a sundae with this person? Maybe once or twice.

is their hair dyed or natural? It’s all black now, but at one point she dyed it light brown.

Is this person sarcastic? She can be, especially with people she’s close to.

Is this person more likely to party or sit in and read a book? SIT IN AND READ A BOOK. Literally the most accurate option.

Person Eight Have you ever lied to this person? I probably have. We’ve only ever talked on social media, where it’s a lot easier to tell a tiny lie and get away with it.

Do you know where this person was born? Somewhere in Davao I’m assuming.

Do you know their middle name and do they know yours? We know each others’ second names because have them put out on Facebook; but not our middle names.

Do they have any special talents? If she does, I don’t know about them. She’s amazing at writing though.

What is their starsign? Whatever star sign falls on the first half of December.

What is the first thing you notice about this person? Ever since the time she tweeted that she doesn’t like smiling with her teeth, her smile has always been the first thing I’m drawn to. 

Have you ever had a big row with this person? Never.

Do you like the same types of movies as this person? Not really. We met because she was friends with my friends who liked the same things she did, but when it comes to us we couldn’t really be any more different.

Random Stuff

Which of these friends would you say you are the closest to? Gabie, of course.

Can you remember all of their birthdays? I’ll give it a shot. June 22, December 31, December 5, June 5, January 16, September 15, May 23...and Aliyah’s is in early December, I’m certain.

Is there anything you regret saying to any of them? I guess only towards Gab, because I’m closest with her and we’ve been through the most together.

Which one of these has been there for you the most? Angela.

Which one have you known the longest and the shortest amount of time? I’ve been aware of Gabie the longest (18 years); been friends with Angela the longest (15 years); and been friends with Andrew the shortest (about a year and a half).

If you needed a laugh, you'd call... I wouldn’t call my friends if I needed help...but if I needed a laugh I’d turn to Anj or Andrew.

If you needed advice, you'd call... Mmm I’d pick among Andrew, Aya, Gabie, Angela, and Laurice.

Which one does your parents like the most? ANGELAAAAAAAA. She’s That friend that I can name-drop when I’m asking for permission to go out, and once my mom hears that she’s going to be with me she usually won’t hesitate to say yes haha.

Is there any of these your parents dislike? They don’t dislike any of them but I have a feeling they’ll disapprove of the fact that I made an online friend in Aliyah, especially my mom.

Do any of them share the same initials? Andrew and Aliyah do.

You can invite one with you for a once in a lifetime trip, which one? Angela.

Something you'd like to say to one of them: I miss you. That applies to everyone.

[ewokthrowdown]

🎃YOI Spooky Week 2019 🎃Saturday, 26th of October 🎃

Day 2, Theme B: Autumn 🍁coffee shop AU, baking

The scent of baking filled The Hazelnut Cafe on a rainy afternoon in October. The owner of the cafe, one Yuuri Katsuki, could be found in the kitchen. He’d donned a pair of mits and was opening the door to the oven. His glasses fogged as he reached for the pumpkin pie on the centre shelf. He pulled it out and placed it on the cooling tray before slipping off the oven mits. The pie had come out perfect. Yuuri had decorated it with leaf cut outs around the edge, leaving a circle of pumpkin exposed in the middle. He was personally very proud of how the maple leaves looked in particular.

Yuuri heard the bell tinkle out in the cafe as the door opened, and he hurried to go serve the new customer. It’d been a slow day. Sometimes the rain drove people into the cafe, but on a Tuesday afternoon people were more likely to stay in their offices rather than venture out into the downpour for coffee. As such Yuuri had sent his only barista working that day, Guang Hong, home with pay.

When Yuuri reached the counter he saw his favourite customer closing his umbrella as he came towards him.

“Victor,” Yuuri greeted the silver haired man who he’d long harboured a crush on. “What are you doing out in this weather?”

“I can’t go without my coffee while I’m working on a project, Yuuri,” Victor said with a smile as he reached the counter, the rumble of his accent as enticing as ever. “And you make the best coffee.”

Yuuri blushed and ducked his head, always delighted and flustered by Victor’s compliments, of which there were many.

“Would you like the usual?” he asked.

“Yes please.”

Yuuri turned and started making Victor’s usual latte while Victor settled himself on one of the stools at the counter.

“So how’s business been?” Victor asked.

“Slow today,” Yuuri replied, raising his voice to be heard over the milk steamer. “But otherwise very good. It’s actually been nice, it’s given me some time to do baking without having to stay late to finish it all.”

“That’s good. You’ll have to let me try whatever you’ve been making.”

“Of course. It wouldn’t be Autumn without a slice of pumpkin pie.”

Yuuri finished off Victor’s coffee and placed it on the counter in front of him.

“I’ll get you a slice when it’s cooled,” Yuuri explained.

“You’ll just have to entertain me while I wait then. How torturous for me.”

Victor’s sly smile said he was teasing, and Yuuri couldn’t help but grin back, leaning over to smack him lightly on the arm.

“So when are you going to let me paint you?” Victor asked for the hundredth time.

Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“I told you,” he huffed. “I’m not pretty enough to be painted.”

“Yuuri, that is patently untrue. You’re gorgeous.”

Yuuri’s cheeks heated, but he couldn’t help frowning. No matter how many times Victor said so Yuuri just couldn’t believe it. He knew he wasn’t terrible looking, but he was plain and a little chubby from sampling his own baking.

“Don’t look like that,” Victor said, and Yuuri looked up to see him giving Yuuri his best puppy eyes. They were very hard to resist.

“Listen,” Victor continued when Yuuri didn’t say anything. “How about I paint you and if you still don’t believe you’re gorgeous by the end of it I’ll do a free painting class in your cafe.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened.

“But you haven’t done classes in years. You said you didn’t do them anymore.”

Though Yuuri had only met Victor in person about eight months before, he’d known and admired his artwork for much longer. And he knew that Victor’s classes were always sold out. Yuuri himself had been to many of Victor’s art shows, always captivated by the expressive use of colours and how he always seemed to catch the emotion of his subjects so well.

“Which is why it’ll be such a hit,” Victor said, beaming at him. “It’ll be thirty dollars entry, which will include one free drink. Cakes have to be paid for on top of that though. All of the proceeds will go to you.”

“But you’d be the one teaching the class,” Yuuri pointed out.

“But I’d be able to paint you, which is payment enough.”

Victor looked delighted with himself. Yuuri was less pleased. The offer was very tempting. While his cafe did very well, thanks to the combined effects of his great baking and Phichit’s amazing social media skills, it was always nice to have extra cash. He could send it back home to the onsen. Yuuri had been wanting to give back to his parents after they supported his move to America to study, but he hadn’t yet been able to. Plus he knew the onsen was struggling.

“I don’t know…” he said slowly, fiddling with the napkin stack.

“Oh come on, pleeeeeease?” Victor whined, and Yuuri looked up to see him pouting, again giving him the full puppy dog treatment.

Yuuri folded like wet paper.

“Fine,” he said, making Victor let out a whoop before Yuuri held up a finger. “But! I am going to get those classes.”

“We’ll see,” Victor said with a self satisfied smirk.

~~~~~~~

“Okay so if you just move your arm there.”

Yuuri was sat in Victor’s studio, which happened to be in Victor’s flat. And Victor was touching him to get him into position. It was all very overwhelming.

Yuuri had spent a good five minutes greeting Makkachin, Victor’s adorable poodle, who he’d met before when Victor bought her into the cafe. Then they’d come through to the studio, Yuuri getting a good look at Victor’s modern and very chic flat on the way. The studio was light and airy; large, industrial style windows giving the room a lot of natural light, which Yuuri supposed was necessary for painting.

Yuuri was sat on a stool in front of a screen that Victor had tossed a deep emerald green sheet over. He was sitting ramrod straight and having a hard time relaxing.

“Now relax your shoulders a bit,” Victor continued. Yuuri did so. “There we go, much better. Are you comfortable?”

The answer to that in general was no, but in terms of his position Yuuri supposed it was a yes so he nodded.

“Great,” Victor said, beaming at him before he turned to go over to where an easel was set up. “Let me know when you need a break, we can take as many as you need.”

Victor picked up a pencil from the little desk next to the easel then turned to look at Yuuri. He stared at him for a long moment, making Yuuri have to fight the urge to squirm, then he lifted the pencil and started drawing.

They chatted as Victor worked, which helped Yuuri relax. It felt a bit like being at the cafe, which was more familiar territory. Victor didn’t do much with the pencil, moving onto paint very quickly. His strokes were broad, clearly marking out the general shape to get proportions before he went into detail.

After about an hour they took a break so Yuuri could get a glass of water and go to the bathroom. He tried to get a look at the canvas on his return but Victor chivied him on, blocking it from view.

“No looking until it’s finished,” he said. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”

Yuuri just rolled his eyes, but went and sat back down.

After another hour Victor seemed pleased with his progress, and snapped a photo of Yuuri before he was allowed to relax.

“I think I can work from the photograph now that I’ve got the basic idea of it,” Victor said, considering his canvas with a critical eye, one finger on his lips.

“Okay, great,” Yuuri agreed, shrugging his jacket on. “I’ll see you in the cafe?”

“Sure,” Victor agreed, turning to him and smiling.

“Cool,” Yuuri said as they walked to the door together.

“Well,” he said when they reached it, eyes flicking up to Victor then away again. “Bye then.”

He felt a little awkward. It was as though they’d crossed some sort of line and he wasn’t sure if he should hug Victor goodbye or not. Victor made up his mind for him.

“Bye, Yuuri,” he said, swooping in to plant a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek.

Yuuri squeaked. Then turned bright red.

“Bye!” Yuuri said, and fled.

He thought he heard Victor chuckling as he went.

~~~~~~~

Two weeks later and Victor was bursting through the door of the cafe looking delighted.

“Yuuri!” he called, rushing over to the counter and bending over it eagerly. He had a smudge of white paint on his left cheekbone which Yuuri found frankly adorable.

“Victor,” Yuuri laughed, hopelessly charmed by this ridiculous man.

“It’s finished, Yuuri!” Victor said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Can you come see?”

“I dunno…” Yuuri said, eyeing Guang Hong where he was preparing a coffee.

Guang Hong was a sweet and cheerful boy. He was still studying, but worked when he didn’t have classes for the extra money.

“Go, I can manage on my own for a little bit,” Guang Hong assured him.

“Thanks, Gi,” Yuuri said, hurrying to grab his jacket and follow Victor from the cafe.

Victor bounced along beside him like an excitable puppy, chatting animatedly the whole way. He ushered Yuuri inside his flat once they’d reached it. Then Victor was leading him to the studio.

Yuuri was undeniably nervous. He had no reason to be. He knew how he looked and it wasn’t as though it was his work that Victor would be seeing. But even so.

The easel was facing away from them in the studio.

“Are you ready?” Victor asked, leading him around to the other side of it.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Then Yuuri was looking at the painting. Tears rose in his eyes.

“Yuuri?” Victor asked, looking panicked.

Yuuri shook his head, raising a hand to press his fingers to his lips as he drank in the sight of the portrait.

“You’ve made me pretty,” he said, a little choked up.

The portrait was indeed gorgeous. There was a likeness to Yuuri, but his eyes weren’t that nice, and his jawline wasn’t that good, his neck wasn’t that graceful.

“Yuuri, are you calling me a bad artist?”

“What?!” Yuuri gasped, turning to look at Victor, who was frowning at him. “No of course not!”

“But you just implied that what I painted wasn’t an accurate copy of what I saw. That’s what you look like, Yuuri. You just can’t see it. You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met.”

Yuuri felt like the breath had been punched out of him.

“I… I’m not…”

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked up to see Victor had stepped closer, his eyes sad.

“I have been crushing on you from the moment I met you.”

Yuuri gasped, so shocked that he swayed a little.

“You’re wonderful,” Victor went on, looking so sincere that Yuuri felt like he’d been punched. “You’re funny and intelligent and most definitely gorgeous. So if you don’t believe that, you’re not only calling me a bad artist but a liar.”

Yuuri could only gape at him. And then he realised the slight tremor in Victor’s hands, how his brow was slightly creased, how his eyes were searching Yuuri’s face for any sign of how he felt. Yuuri didn’t want there to be any doubt whatsoever.

“I like you too,” Yuuri said, a little choked. “So much.”

Victor’s smile was like the sun. And when they kissed it was better than eating the best pumpkin pie in the world.

~~~~~~~

Victor still did the classes in Yuuri’s cafe, but they split the profits between them. It was a good compromise, made better by the coffee flavoured kisses.

Ao3.

[jimincanbreakmyspine]

Oh baby • Knj pt. 2

🌻 Kim Namjoon x Single mother Reader

🌻 Genre: fluff, angst, smut

🌻 Word Count: 1,628

🌻 Warnings: Grinding? Implies they have sex? I don't know.

🌻 A/N: I actually had 80% of this written but my phone shut off before I could save it. Also there was kinda a big plot hole in the last chapter, Y/n knew who Namjoon was, she was dating Choi Minho and doesn't necessarily get "fangirlish" around idols.

Walking into my studio I'm greeted by my best friend Bee. "Good morning Y/n and Minnie." She comes around the reception desk and hugs Minnie, making eye contact with me showing she already knows why she isn't with Minho. "Minnie baby, go wait for me in the class and here take this." I hand her my phone knowing she would plug it into my speaker and dance. She kisses my cheek and skips to my classroom.

"Please explain to me me why you won't file for full custody of Minnie?" Bee asks as soon as we see Minnie is gone.

"You know I wouldn't win easily, Minho has his whole company to back him up while I have nothing, he makes more money than I do even though I have my own business teaching people to dance, he's an idol. There's no way I could win the case knowing how powerful and corrupt his company is, I might as well just have joint custody." Bee places her hand on top of mine. I look at her and see the sadness in her eyes, she understands what I'm talking about. Choi Minho is my ex boyfriend. Minnie's father.

"You know, you're an amazing mother. You're basically raising your 6 year old daughter by yourself, while running your own business. You never have time for yourself though." I look at her and see the mischievous glint in her eyes. "I say, you leave her with your parents for the night and we go do something. Let loose for once, you know?"

"And by let loose you mean get drinks and get laid?" She chuckles knowing I'm right.

"Come on we haven't gone out in forever! I'm sure your parents would love to babysit Minnie." Knowing she was right I gave in. How could I say no? After agreeing to the plan I walk to my classroom. When I walk in, Minnie doesn't notice me. She's too focused on on her graceful movements. Minnie is a talented dancer for a 6 year old. I figured she would be, Minho being an amazing dancer and me who has always danced. Soon she notices me.

"Come dance with me mommy." I walk over to her and dance with her. My body moving to the beat of Monsta x's song Dramarama, Minnie's favorite song to blast in the apartment.  Soon the song ends and my daughter lies on the floor exhausted. I chuckle at what she says.

"That donut did me no good today."

Soon class starts and she goes to her corner watching me teach and play her games.

__________________________________________________________________________________

"Hi mom, are you sure you're fine watching her?" I was currently at my parents house dropping off Minnie.

"Oh Y/n you know we don't have a problem watching her. Go have fun tonight. We understand." I hug my mom and dad after thanking them getting into Bee's car. Soon we are on our way to the club.

Sweating body's grind all over each other, all over the place. Bee drags me over to the bar.

"Two of your cocktails please." The bartender grabs our drinks and slips Bee a wink. "I think I found my treat for the night." She says taking a sip of her drink. I cringe both mentally and physically.

"Please never ever say that again." We laugh and after finishing around cocktail we head to the dance floor. I away my hips to the beat. Letting the music control my movements since I don't feel my buzz yet.

"Okay I think wearing jeans was a bad idea. I'm going to go get another drink." I walk over to the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice me.

"Well hello again." I look over and see him. The man from the coffee shop this morning. Kim Namjoon. Leader of BTS. "Mind if I buy you a drink?"

"Go ahead." He orders our drinks and it comes immediately.

"Now, I'm assuming you don't have a husband. Am I right?" I shake my head. And turn down to look at the drink in my hand.

"No and I plan on keeping it that way. I've never been married. Unless you've been living under a rock for the past 6 years you've probably seen the few articles regarding Choi Minho and my daughter." I finally make eye contact with him.

"I don't really take a look at articles regarding many artists these days actually. I think my friend Taehyung has mentioned Minho and news surrounding him but that's only because they acted together."

"Oh trust me, I know Taehyung. Nice kid. Minnie loved him. Misses him too. She enjoys your music, if she isn't listening to Monsta X it's you guys." His face lights up.

"Ahh so you do know who I am." I chuckle.

"How could I not, your face is all over Korea." We talk and order more drinks. Being able to tell I'm not sober.

"So what exactly do you do for a living?"

"I own my own dance studio. Mostly teaching pop and hip hop to middle schoolers to older people, but I studied contemporary the most in school." Dancing has been my first love. Ever since my mother put me through dance camp in 2nd grade."

"After dance for so many years of being an idol my body still rejects dancing." He leans into my ear and whispers in a husky voice. "Maybe you can give me a private lesson."

Maybe it was all the stress of Minho. Of being a single parent. Maybe it's because of all the alcohol in my system but as soon as he said that I'm dragging him down to the dance floor drinks forgotten. Facing my back to him and placing his hands on my hips. The music and alcohol flowing through my system. We both sway together.

"By the way I think you look absolutely beautiful tonight." I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck.

"You don't look too bad yourself." Sudden he brings his head down to my neck. His breath ticking my neck.

"Wouldn't this look bad for you? Choi Minho's ex seen with bts member Namjoon." His lips end up on my neck.

"Maybe we should really go somewhere private then?" Maybe it really the alcohol in my system. Next thing I know we're in the back of a cab making out on the way to his place.

"Okay love birds we're here." Namjoon pays for the cab and he drags me inside. Taking me to his room.

________________________________________________________________

The first thing I wake up to is the sun shining in my face and the sound of a shower going on. I shoot up out of my bed. Except it's not my bed or my room. I look around the room and see my clothes from last nice all over the room. Oh god where am I? Where's my phone? I need to go pick up Minnie. I gather and change into my clothes, quickly texting my mom I'll pick Minnie up by 10 seeing it was only 8. just as I'm buttoning my pants I hear the bathroom door creak open.

"Oh good morning Y/n. I would you like anything for your head? Water? How about a shower?" I couldn't help but let my eyes trail down from his face to the towel around his waist.

"Uh... no it's okay I need to go and um pick up Minnie." He walks over to dresser and grabs a bottle of aspirin. Handing me the bottle.

"Thank you but I really should get going. It was nice seeing you Namjoon." Without letting him say anything I walk out of his room not knowing that I was in his dorm and seeing Kim Seokjin look at me with a horrific expression on his face. I try to quickly get out of the walk of shame I haven't experience in such a long time. I wish I never had to experience it ever. I get in a cab and make my way to my apartment.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Minnie extremely happy to be back home. Of course she loves spending time with my parents. I think she just enjoys being home with me. Currently we were on our way to pick up snacks and dinner. I thought it would be a good idea to have a movie day considering I still have a minor headache  from the previous night

"Mommy can we get pizza? And ice cream? Oh how about-" I cut her off.

"Woah slow down, yes we can get pizza but we can't get a lot of sweets, okay? So you can either have ice cream or candy." Minnie pouts as I chuckle. Deciding she wanted ice cream instead.

"Okay baby, you have to choose." Minnie couldn't decide which flavor she wanted.

"You know, you could get the chocolate dipped cones with both the strawberry and chocolate ice cream." Me and Minnie both look and see Namjoon getting ice cream himself. Minnie runs over and grabs the boxes of ice cream he was talking about.

"Okay well thank you Namjoon, we'll be on way. Come on baby." We start to walk away until he calls out.

"Hey Y/n, can we talk?" Really? If this is about last night it's not a good idea to talk about it. Especially infront of my 6 year old.

"Now's not a good time actually. Maybe soon other time." For a moment I thought I saw a flash of hurt across his face before I walked away.

"I like Namjoon. He's nice." I look at Minnie smiling.

"He really is."

Taglist

@namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore

[airis-paris14]

Dress Up 1

Summary: She’s not his fiancee, but no one else needs to know.

Warnings: None

A/N: Before we get started, I know the Xhosa is not translated. That is done on purpose, as you read I am sure you will understand why. It was a deliberate stylistic choice. I hope you guys enjoy as I am truly having a blast writing this story, Redemption will be back soon. I’ve just gotta take a moment to get myself back on track with that story. Please Reblog, like, and comment! I love hearing what you guys have to say. Much love. 

“Eh, you’ve got another letter to mail?” The post office clerk smiled as the young woman made her way through the front door. “Actually I’ve got three for you today Mrs. Zula.” Sirobie grinned, her hand buried in her art bag. She emerged a second later with three sealed envelopes. “I would just like to let you know, that you, are single handedly keeping this post office open.” the clerk teased, a gentle beep emerging from her tablet as she scanned each of the envelope postmarks. “You do know you are in Wakanda right? Most technologically advanced country in the world ring a bell?” Oni Zula teased, jumping out of her chair to sort the letters into the appropriate bins.

“Yes, I just prefer to write my parents the old fashioned way,” Sirobie shrugged. “So you aren’t in here mailing letters to your secret lover every week?” the older woman teased, climbing back into her seat. “Ha ha ha, very funny,”Sirobie frowned. “Well are they gonna write you back? It’s been two months and I haven’t gotten any letter back for you.”

“It’s complicated.” Sirobie frowned. “Well, you know my offer still stands. My and Ebram’s front door are always open,” Mrs. Zula smiled. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.” Sirobie waved goodbye, her bag flapping against her as she began her trek to the park.

The city was alive around. Children's laughter floated through the air. Mixing with the throng of voices floating towards her from the market. Gossip, bartering, and lover’s sweet nothings glided through the air. Sirobie sighed deeply as she came upon the large expanse of green space in the city center. The midday sun reflected off of the glass of the palace before her. She shaded her eyes, and choose to settle under a large tree in the corner of the park. She quickly set up her easel and unpacked her supplies. A cardboard sign advertising watercolor portraits for $10 dollars attested to her existence. She pulled a tiny clipboard from her bag and canvases the area around her. A mother and daughter dancing a short distance from her draws her attention. She begins to sketch the two dancing.

“Excuse me,” a voice broke through the sound of her pencils on the parchment paper. “I’d like a portrait,” Sirobie pulled her braids out of her face. She squinted up into the sunlight, unable to make out the face of her customer. “Umm sure, she gestured at the stool in front of her easel. It’ll take about 20 minutes,” she began to explain. She observed her subject before pulling the appropriate watercolor pencils and beginning to outline her portrait. “You’re not from around here are you,” the lady asks.

“Is it that obvious?” Sirobie quickly glances at the woman once more. “Many of our artists don’t do this kind of work.” the stranger replies, “ I saw it once in an American movie. You are from America, yes?”

“Uh yeah,” Sirobie stutters, her mouth falling slightly open as she actually looks at her subject for the first time. Her large brown eyes sat nestled in her face the same way Sirboie’s did. Her round face accentuated the cupid’s bow of her lips and her box braids were parted in the same manner as Sirobie’s. “Um, yeah. I am an exchange student from Howard University in DC.”

“That is the place where your president lives correct? That’s a state but not really a state?” The woman smiled. Sirobie froze, the woman’s  smile was eerily reminiscent of her own. “Yeah, I guess,” she finally answered, finishing off a basic sketch of the woman’s face. “What is your classification?”

“My what?” Sirobie, shook her head out of the daze. “Your classification. Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, Senior? I was under the impression that American universities and colleges did not refer to students by year,” the woman explained. “Oh yeah, I am a senior. I graduate in about two months.”

That must be exciting,” the woman smiled. Sirobie nodded, grabbing her pencils and beginning to fill in the woman’s face. “It is.”

“How long are you in Wakanda?”

“Another two  months, then I head back to finish preparing for graduation. Sirobie worked quickly and efficiently to spread color to the rest of the sketch. Relishing in how the subject  came alive on the page. “We have quite an uncanny resemblance do we not?”

Sirobie snorted, “I don’t think that even begins to describe it.”

“It seems like we could almost be sisters,” the woman insisted. “Yeah, we could,” the artist smiled. She sat back to admire the woman on the page. “Would you like to see it?” she offered.

The woman moved to stand next to her. “That is beautiful! How much do I owe you?” the woman opened her purse to grab her wallet. “Ten dollars please,” Sirobie replied leaning close to sign the work of art.”

“Shoot, I knew I forgot something at the house,” the woman cursed. “Here love, take these,” the woman replied handing over her kimoyo beads, “now hand me your student ID.”

“What why?” Sirobie frowned. “As collateral. Proof that I am going to come back and pay you. I have to come back and get my kimoyo beads from you as well. I am just going to run to my house and grab my wallet so I can pay you.”

“I don't know,” sirobie hesitated. “Trust me, it’s not like I am going to leave the country with it. This is  Wakanda. You are a foreign exchange student. Your ID would not be of any use to me anyway.”

Sirobie sighed and handed over her ID. I’ll be back in ten minutes,” the woman ran off into the crowd. “Wait! I don’t even know your name,” she yelled after her. Once she had disappeared into the crowd Sirobie sighed, settling back into sketching the mother and daughter.

The smell and sound of her charcoal pencils calmed the young student. She gently wet her brush opening the expensive paints that sat at her side. She glanced up once more, then proceeded to begin painting the mother’s clothes. She lost herself in the intricate pattern of the fabric. The darkening of the sky around her startled her out of her focus. “Oh you found it,” the student smiled, wiping her hands on her rag before looking up. “Oh I’m sorry, I thought  you were,” Sirboie closed her mouth as the soldier in front of her began speaking. “Ubuphi?

Bakukhangela kuyo yonke indawo.”the bald headed woman fussed. She motioned for two of the other women to grab her things. “Wait what are you doing?” Sirobie fought back. Grabbing her things from the women’s arms. “Ukusinda kwakho okuncinci sekuphelile. Sifanele sibuyele kwibhotwe ngoku. Ube efuna wena.”

“I don’t speak xhosa!” Sirobie yelled as the leader physically restrained her. “Udala indawo,” Okoye hissed. “You have the wrong person! I do not know what you are saying!”

“UNksz Kamyra, nceda uze nathi ngokuthula. U kumkani akayidingi isikhalazo esingaphambi kwesango lakhe,” Okoye calmed, leading Sirobie away from her seat in the park.

The guards encircled the woman as they walked through the park. Sirobie shrunk in to herself as she was marched through the streets. The miniature procession caught many the wondering eyes around the marketplace. The 23 year old had never ventured this far into the city. Often opting to stay within her own triangle of comfort. Her apartment, The Zula’s home, and the park.

“Where are you taking me?” The fine arts major asked again. “The palace,” the leader replied. “So you understand English?” Sirobie exclaimed.

“Yes. And you know this. What I do not understand is why you refuse to speak your native tongue,” The warrior scowled. “English is my native tongue!” Sirobie insisted. The warrior led Sirobie up the grand staircase at the palace before pulling her aside. “Look Kamyra,” The woman hissed. “You’re hurting me,” Sirobie whimpered.

“I do not like you. I know you do not like me either, but T’Challa is my friend. And for some reason he insists that he must marry you. I do not know what game you're playing. But stop it this instant. You have worried everyone in this building sick for the past few hours. Now the game is over. Your engagement ball is tonight. So you have four hours to get your act together.”

“I am not Kamyra,” Sirobie cried once more. “Kamyra, I swear to Bast if you do not stop this instant…”

“Okoye, did you find Kamyra?” An older woman stood at the top of the stairs. Her headdress stretched up towards the sky. She looked very familiar but Sirobie could not place her face. A teenager emerged from the palace to stand next to her. “Queen mother,” Okoye bowed her head slightly, “Yes, we found her in the park but she insists that she is not herself.”

“Okoye thrust Sirobie out in front of her. The poor girl went stumbling. “What do you mean?” Ramonda frowned, eyeing the young girl. “She only speaks in English.”

“I have yet to her her speak,” Ramona replied. “No good morning today?”

“I am so sorry, but you all really have the wrong girl,” Sirobie tried to explain. Ramonda raised both eyebrows, she glides down the stairs to Sirobie’s side. She gently raised Sirobie’s chin. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sirobie Johnson,” the girl replied.

“I believe you. But if you are here, the where the hell is my daughter in law,” Ramonda frowned. “Okoye,send a search party.”

“This is not my son’s fiancée.”

The general signaled for the rest of the Dora’s to leave. The women marched off in a professional line, as the Queen guided Sirobie down the palaces intricate hallways. The Queen pulled Sirobie rather quickly, ushering her into an empty bedroom.

Sirobie settled in a chair, as did Queen Mother. Shuri opted for the couch and Okoye stood behind them. Sirobie gulped under their gazes. Bowing her head, her fingers suddenly very interesting.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Queen Mother murmured, one finger perched under her chin. “They look exactly the same,” The teenager added in.

“I see how you got them confused General,” The queen sighed. She pulled off her crown and set it on the table beside her. Her gray locs fell from their bun down her back.

 “What is your name?” The teenager asked moving closer. “Sirobie,” The college student smiled slightly. “Shuri,” The teen smiled. “May I?” She gestured at the bracelet. Sirobie nodded.

“Where did you get these,” Shuri pulled the beads off of her wrist. “I think the woman you all are looking for gave them to me.”

“You saw Kamyra?” Okoye asked, moving closer to the woman. Sirobie backed away, nodding. “She never told me her name. She asked me paint her picture. She said she was going to get her wallet to pay me. She took my student ID in exchange.”

“Where exactly are you in school?” The older woman asked. “I attend Howard University. In the States.”

“With your ID where could she have gone?” Shuri asked. “Nowhere really. It just grants access to my dorm room. You can’t buy anything outside of the cafeteria with it.”

“Queen mother, should we alert T’Challa?” Okoye asked. All eyes fell to the older woman. “Whatever for general?”

“Mother, his fiancée is missing,” Shuri frowned. “What do you mean? She is right here,” Queen mother smiled at Sirobie. The student’s eyes widen as everyone began to grin at her. “No, No. No! I am too young to be marrying anyone,” Sirobie dismissed. “Kamyra is only a year older than you. T’Challa is only two years older than you.” The queen moved to sit next to the young woman. “Still. I haven’t finished college yet. I’m only here for two more months.”

“We just need you to pretend to be Kamyra while we search for her. We hope it will not take that long to locate her.” The queen reassured. “Wakanda will owe you a great debt.”

“This all just sounds a little too crazy to me,” sirobie waved her hands. “How are you paying for your education?” the queen asked. Sirobie bit her lip and looked down. “Loans,” she murmured. “If you do this, Wakanda will pay off all of your schooling debt. No questions asked. You will also live here in the palace and live the life of a princess.”

“Are you joking?” Sirobie looked up. “No. Why would I be joking? This how Wakanda will repay her debt to you.”

“Please?” Shuri spoke up from the corner of the room.

“You’ll let me go home after you find her?” Sirobie asked again. “If that is what you desire,” the queen nodded.

“I’ll do it.” Sirobie sighed.

The three women broke out into grins. “Okoye, please find the nearest maid and ask her to fetch the stylist, hairdresser, and make up artist. As well as send someone to grab a late lunch for Shuri, Sirobie, and myself. I have a feeling we are going to be here for a while.”

Okoye saluted the Queen. She tapped her staff twice before leaving the room.

“Now, Sirobie. Tonight, my son is throwing a ball in honor of his fiancée. All eyes will be on you and we must prepare you for that. Physically and mentally. First, I suggest you get a quick bath while Shuri and I find a dress for you. We’ve got much to do. With little time to do it.”

Sirobie nodded quietly. “The bathroom is right through that door. Please be quick, but do everything you need to do.” The Queen gestured to the door. “Thank you,” Sirobie half curtsied. “Please, don’t do that tonight,”  The Queen grimaced, “We’ll work on that later.” The young woman blushed before fleeing to the bathroom.

“Do you think she can do it?” Shuri moved to stand by her mother. “I know she can.

Transforming Sirobie into a royal fiancée was very easy. Physically at least. Following Kamyra’s routines turned the student into a carbon copy of the woman.  Until she spoke. Or ate. Or moved, at all.  “Now, you move your spoon away from you at all times.” Ramonda demonstrated, tilting the spoon in the opposite direction in the empty bowl. “That just makes it unnecessarily complicated,” Sirobie sighed copying the queens movement. “It is to help deter you from overeating.” Ramonda explained.

“No when do you stop eating?” Ramonda quizzed, signaling for a maid to switch out the dishes in front of them. “I have to stop?” Sirobie sighed, letting her head fall into her hands. “Please Sirobie. I know this is hard, but you’ve got to try.” The Queen soothed. “I don’t think I can do this,” the girl murmured into her hands.

“My Queen,” The stylist called. “We have one hour till the party, we must dress the lady soon.”

“Of course,” Ramonda sighed. “Sirobie, I believe in you, we all do,” The Queen whispered the girl’s ear. Sirobie smiles sadly as the queen stood. “Shuri, let's give ,Kamyra, some privacy. We will be back before T’Challa arrives to escort you.”

“I have to walk in with him?” Sirobie paled.

“Yes! He is your fiancée,” Shuri laughed overzealously. Her apology written all over her face. “We’ll be back soon.”

After much prodding and poking. Shape wear and fashion tricks, Sirobie looked absolutely regal. The white fabric fell in waves around her. The center of the dress adhered to her figure, carefully outlining every curve perfectly. The silver thread and diamonds littering the bodice of the dress glittered in the light of the setting sun. The student spun slowly as the beauty team observed her appearance. The college student ran her hands over the embroidery. Gently fingering each of the flowers and vines that traced their way over the gown.

“I think she is ready for the final touch,” the lead stylist nodded. The others murmured their agreement and watched as she walked over to a black box.

.

The woman walked over to her box and pulled out a  set of jewelry. “These are royal family antiques,” she explained, gently displaying the large drop diamond earrings. “Queen mother wore these necklace on her coronation day.” She gently lifted a simple diamond necklace from the box as well. “Those look perfect,” Sirobie smiled. The seamstress nodded beginning to adorn the student with jewelry. When she was finished she lead Sirobie over to a large full body mirror. Sirobie bit her tongue to keep her jaw from dropping open. She allowed a small grin to slip through. “Thank you so much,” The 22 year old smiled at each of the staff in turn. “It was a pleasure your grace,”She smiled before two knocks rang through the room.

“Come in,” Sirobie called. The Queen and Shuri walked into the room and smiled as Sirobie came into view. “A carbon copy,” the queen smiled. “Just one more thing,” the queen approached, her day wear replaced by an elegant blue gown. Her crown had also changed,now draped in the same fabric as her dress. She gently grabbed sirobie’s left hand and slid a large diamond ring onto her finger. “There, absolutely breathtaking.”

Sirobie smiled sadly at the ring. “What’s wrong my child.?” Ramonda raised the woman’s  chin. “I had just always hoped,” Sirobie sighed, fiddling with the ring, “That the first time i wore one of these, it would be from someone I love.”

“Oh, my child,” Ramonda cooed, “I know it’s dumb. Im literally living the life of a princess and I am complaining,” Sirobie rolled her shoulders back. Ramonda gripped her hands gently, “ you have every right to any emotion you may have right now. You will meet him someday, and it will make you feel just as joyous as you hope. That is was love does to people, it brings you indescribable joy.” The queen smiled, gently cupping the student’s cheek. Sirobie smiled back.

“Actually it’s perfectly describable.” Both of the women turned to the sudden interruption of their conversation, “ You know love releases endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. It’s all one big cycle of chemical reactions in your brain. Reactions which are catalysed by the stimulation of certain neurons in the temporal lobe. All of the reactions happen instantaneously, or almost, hence the butterfly feeling. Studies have shown that the feeling can be considered comparable to the same high that is felt when one is doing cocaine. So if you want to feel it now, it is much more convenient to just go and get high on the closest thing. I mean obviously not cocaine, but maybe we-” Shuri trailed off. Her mother’s frown quickly causing her to back track, “ I mean not that I have ever tried it myself. I mean-” She turned to Sirobie and mouthed, “I’ll explain it to you later.”

Ramonda and Sirobie burst into laughter.“My love,” T’Challa’s voice sailed through the door, “I can hear that you are having a good time but, we will  be late if you do not,” The king froze as he noticed his mother and shuri in the room. “Brother, you are early.”

“No you all are ten minutes late. Is everything alright?” T’Challa strolled further into the room. “Everything is fine. Why would it not be?” Ramonda glided over to her son to place a kiss on his cheek. The king allowed her to pull him close as he eyed Sirobie. “You all tell me,” the king started moving closer to Sirobie. “No greeting today my love?”

“Hello,” Sirobie replied cautiously. Shuri facepalmed behind her brother. “What is going on,” the king demanded, his eyes never leaving Sirobie. “T’Challa,” Queen Mother started, moving to stand next to the girl. “Meet Sirobie. Your fiance.”

taglist: @chaneajoyyy @royallyprincesslilly @dramaqueenamby @kumkaniudaku @sarahboseman @sisterwifeudaku @ororowrites @writingmarvellousimagines @iliketowrite1996 @queertrex @almostpurelysmut @supersizemeplz @hutchj @tchoking @blackbypurpose @wikiwakanda @90sinspiredgirl @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @derangedcupcake @lalapalooza718 

*THE TAGLIST IS OPEN*

[gentleladyaims]

The Farewell: An In-Depth Reflection

I was not emotionally prepared to watch this movie- I packed some tissues in my purse as always (as I am apt to shed tears over most movies- I just get super emotional!), but it was nowhere near enough. I was literally biting my tongue and trying not to sob out loud and looked like a wet blob in the theatre with tears streaming down my face!! My husband was like "Honey, are you okay?? Let me give you a hug!!"

As a young Chinese-American woman, I’ve never watched a movie that hit so close to home and felt so… relevant? I feel so seen and acknowledged seeing this story play out on the big screen. Fsor a Chinese-American woman like Lulu Wang to direct the movie I grew up in Beijing with my grandparents; my parents came to the U.S. right after I was born when my dad got an amazing scholarship to Duke. As a result, I’m super close with my grandparents and they basically raised me and instilled in me the morals/values I have today. I came to the U.S. for the first time when I was three (briefly), then permanently moved to the States when I was six. It was jarring, an entirely new environment, having to learn a foreign language, leaving the comforts of my home behind. Thankfully, my grandma came with us to leave for awhile, but my grandpa stayed back in Beijing. I missed him so much every single day. As I grew up, I’d visit my grandparents back in Beijing almost every single summer and spend my entire vacation with them. I cherish those moments so much.

All the little details in “The Farewell” are so genuine and realistic to how Chinese culture actually is. Of course, no movie is representative of everyone’s experience, however, many facets of it were reflective of my own life.

How Billi's mom seems to be very critical of her life decisions, especially regarding her career, and being snarky/making fun of Billi for pursuing an artistic path with writing. How Nai Nai is so affectionate with Billi (the opening scene when they're on the phone and she asks Billi how the weather is and if Billi's wearing a hat etc is soo hilarious and true!! My grandma always asks that and tells me "Bundle up, don't get a cold now!") and makes the funny comments about her round butt. Even the little nuance of her commenting on Billi's weight and how she doesn't seem to have lost much weight, in comparison with what Billi's mom said (a lot of Chinese people/family always seem to make unsolicited comments about people's figures/weight and just will straight up say "you're fat!" or "OMG you're too skinny!!" it's a hard dichotomy to walk and it seems no one is happy either way). When Billi gets to the hotel and the hotel clerk is asking her which is better, China or America? *Literally* I get asked that question every. single. time. and my response is the same as Billi's- "It's different!" It's like comparing bananas and chicken. Both have their pros and cons, but it seems like they're always expecting you to say one or the other. Some of my relatives definitely idealise the West/America and seem to think everyone in the U.S. is: rich, blond, gorgeous like a movie star, and happy.

The family style meals and the food!! Sooo realistic. Also how Mr. Li pours the boiling water for Nai Nai's hot water soak for her feet. I want to make a note that even the fashion/style is pretty accurate too- my grandpa totally wore the same tank top and high-waisted pants and slippers like Mr. Li, haha. Watching this movie gave me such a feeling of familiarity and belonging, like "wow, someone actually knows how it feels to be in a Chinese family and can identify with these things!!" I cried so hard when Billi had her big breakthrough moment with her mom, confessing that she never felt like she was good enough/that it was hard for her to adjust to life in America. That she felt home with her grandparents. The way her dad asks her questions like "how's your job? do you have enough money?" and little things about her daily life and Billi just brushes him off and says everything's fine. I feel that hardcore because especially when I was younger, I'd just say everything's fine to my parents as to not worry them. Why mention it if they're just going to be fearful/scared/worried/anxious? I'm learning to be more honest and open now- working on developing better communication skills is a major theme in my family (between my mom and dad too).

The comparisons between the East and the West also felt true to life. How Billi's uncle mentions the West values individualism whereas the East values community/the family unit more. I often feel struggles within myself about wanting to be a good daughter and be obedient to my parents versus my own desires and pursuing things I would like, even though it may not be things my parents want for me. I've learned that being a good daughter doesn't always equate to doing what my parents want. I've had to learn to fight for and seek out my independence and find my own self-identity, not just what my family thinks I should be/should do. I feel like in Chinese culture, the elders' opinions are always respected and thought of highly- my mom says "I've crossed these paths of life before, I have more experience/knowledge than you, I know best- just trust me." And it's like... "Yes Mom, sure that may be true, but also I need to make my own decision? And just because you've had a certain experience, doesn't mean it's true for my current life situation?" I'm also careful to tell my parents that I always respect their input, but that just because I don't follow their advice, doesn't mean I don't love them or value their opinion!!! It's been a tough thing for them (more so my mom) to grasp, but I'm glad I'm doing it, despite it being challenging.

The parts of the movie that hit me the most are Billi's moments with her grandma. And also how she has to process this huge emotional burden and her grief. I share a somewhat similar experience, but am SO happy that my grandparents didn't choose to hide anything from me. I don't know if I could've forgiven them if they did... who knows? I found out during my junior year of college that my grandpa had late-stage lymphoma. It had already progressed into his bone marrow and he was in a lot of pain- it also affect some of his mental function and cognition, unfortunately. My parents and I booked tickets right away to see him in Beijing. It was so hard to try and be positive in front of my grandma and not just cry all the time. We were reunited under the worst of circumstances- but at least we could be open about our struggles and endure it together. I couldn't imagine if it was a huge secret and I had to bear it like Billi did. The ending where Billi has to say goodbye to her grandma hit me so hard- like that is literally me every time I have to bid farewell to my Lao Lao. I try to hold in the tears until I get to the taxi and then I just break down. Even though my grandma doesn't have a terminal illness, it's just... the trip between the U.S. and China is a long and arduous one and it's hard being so far away from family, separated by miles and miles and oceans.

My heart ached for my grandpa after watching the movie. When Nai Nai was standing at her husband's grave and lamenting how he passed too soon... that's exactly what my grandma says. She's sad that my grandpa didn't get to see me graduate college, get married, get a job, etc. I will always miss my grandpa, but it's comforting to know that I got to spend my time with him at the end and that we were together, as a family.

Did anyone else feel a particular pull to this movie?? I'd love to hear thoughts, comments, etc!!

[tyrustrash]

Tu Color Para Pintar

Shadyside, a small no-name town in the middle of nowhere. People have assumptions about small town: that they’re quite and peaceful, everyone knows each other, and that the people are the kindest. Wrong. Shadyside is called Shadyside for a reason. Everyone is shady, from toddlers to the senior citizens. The shadiest can even be your own best friends, and even worse, your own crush. Cyrus currently is laying face down on his bed. He refuses to believe that not only is Andi attending some fancy frou-frou art school for the summer, but TJ is dating Kira. Yeah, about TJ, he didn’t really have to say he was dating her, but come on, it’s obvious. They’re always together looking happy, they went to his special spot, and seemed they didn’t want him around. Although TJ said they weren’t, it didn’t help that he has yet to hang out together, alone. His whole body hurts from thinking TJ cared about him. It feels like a thousand shards of glass are stabbing him and there’s nothing he can do. It didn’t matter anyway; he could deal with that kind of pain. The pain he couldn’t handle was his broken heart. He had spent weeks with the jock building a friendship like he has never had before. This one is different from Jonah because of the memories they have. Jonah was always busy with girlfriend troubles, which Cyrus would know nothing about, but TJ helped him with things no one else bothered with. They had talks where they told secrets that no one else knew. TJ was like a completely different person around him, like he was being his genuine self. The dual personas TJ had made Cyrus even more interested in him. Heck, the best thing TJ has ever done was stand up for Cyrus and helped raise his confidence. Out of all his time with Andi and Buffy, they never did anything close to what TJ has done. The only bad thing TJ has done was steal his heart. The gun incident doesn’t count since it was Blondie’s fault. TJ, however, had to strut into his life with all his hoodies and be so dang adorable. The time together eventually had an impact on Cyrus’s mind, and heart. It wasn’t until a few short weeks ago when feelings changed, in a good way. Their friendship felt like it should be something more, but Cyrus knew it was just one sided. Even though Cyrus was a fool to ever believe for a second that TJ was a bad guy, he now feels like a complete clown. The whole Kira situation is where things went south. For Andi, it hurt a little less. Although they’ve been friends since kindergarten and have done amazing, and illegal, things with her, he wasn’t as hurt since he imagined this day happening for a while now. Andi is a talented artist. Her works are unique and definitely belong in a museum. Her trashing stereotypes piece was even worthy of the Shadyside Academy of Visual Arts sending an acceptance application. Which then she accepted to attend for the summer term. Sure, he would rather her go there for three months rather than the entire school year, but what is he going to do for the summer? Him, Buffy, and Jonah don’t make the most exciting group. They almost relied on Andi for what they were doing. And with TJ, that’s basically over. So now he’s basically going to spend his summer at home, more than likely helping his parents with work. Just as he was about to give up sobbing and accept his fate of the worst summer ever, his phone chimed. The laziness is too strong right now as he simply throws a pillow at his nightstand in hopes of it actually doing anything. When the phone chimes again, Cyrus decides to be the most active he has been that day and picks up his phone. A text from Andi. An urgent one, as indicated by the lack of emojis, the over usage of exclamation points, and it being all caps. Apparently, she needs him at the art studio. After grunting for a few seconds, Cyrus laid back down and tossed his phone to the end of the bed. Andi probably wants to show off another project before she leaves and see her friends one last time. He wants to support her, but it’s getting harder to feel any sort of happiness. His world is falling apart by the day and it seems like there’s no hope of it getting better. Later, a loud knock on his door interrupted his thoughts of whether or not he’ll find a boyfriend. Once again, Cyrus threw a pillow with the expectation of it working. Instead, the soft thud was sort of a cue to let the person come in. Andi walked in, which made Cyrus cover his face with his dinosaur plushie. Andi walked into the room and gently placed herself on the end of the bed. Her expression is clearly upset with a bit of worry. “Cyrus, why didn’t you come?” Cyrus rumbled a bit before saying something inaudible due to the plushie over his mouth. Andi taps his arm. He removes the toy and sits up a little. “Why would I?” Andi wasn’t expecting this kind of response, or this behavior. He was always so cheerful and enthusiastic. Anything related to his friends he was always there for. “Did you read the text?” “Not really.” Cyrus says as he lays back down. Any feelings that he previously had are long gone. Seeing Andi now not sadness, but emptiness. “I’m not in the mood to do anything.” “The art gallery opened a new exhibit!” “What’s it about?” “Nothing!” Cyrus raised an eyebrow. He sits up on his elbows and looks Andi in the eyes. “Huh?” Andi excitedly got off the bed and walks around the room. She overexaggerates her hand movements as she talks. “It’s nothing, but it’s everything! I can’t believe they would think of this, but it’s genius! Some might call it lazy, but I call it creative.” “What exactly are you talking about?” Cyrus gets up and attempts to keep up with Andi. “The nothingness.” Andi continues. “It’s an entire area of white. White walls, white blocks, white accessories. Anyone can paint, design, draw, or do whatever they want! I texted you to see if you wanted to try creating something. Probably with me, Buffy, and Jonah.” Andi finally calms down and Cyrus places his hands on her shoulders. The two lock eyes, seemingly calming Andi down. Cyrus, however, has those teary eyes. “Andi, I’m not in the mood for anything.” Andi sighed and looked at her feet. She was, for once, at a lose for words. Her whole life Cyrus was by her side and would do anything if she asked. He was always there for his friends. As she looks into his eyes, she can see something that she’s not used to. Fear. “Well,” Andi starts to say. “How about you go and do something yourself? You can express what you’re feeling. Like what I did with the stereotypes.” Cyrus shakes his head. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why not?” Cyrus takes a deep breath. He turns away from Andi and faces his dresser. Pictures of him and TJ covered the top. Each one was from a special moment they had together. From when Cyrus first visited TJ’s job, when they had a picnic at the swings, and when they had Valentines Day at The Spoon because they didn’t have dates and went as friends. Instead of smiling from looking at the pictures, it only made him cry. “I’m afraid that if I do anything else, my world would get worse. I’m afraid of letting certain people know how I feel, or even tell them who I really am. Problem is, I don’t know how or how they’ll feel. I have a dream that might never come true now, and it’s got me feeling this way.” Cyrus told her. “I this this might not make that much sense, but I don’t how to express myself.” “How about with art?” Andi asks. She pulls out paint supplies from her bag and places them on the dresser. “The world revolves at your heart. Today you can create your best version and trust your intuition. There is no dream that you can't reach. You have everything to make it happen. And that everything is in your mind and nothing can go wrong. Say what you keep in your mind. Lights shine when you shout your truth. There's no more time, don't forget. It's your story, you decide your color to paint.” Although he wasn’t one hundred percent sure what she said, he understood it all. He looks at the supplies. Not to surprisingly, the paint tubes are the colors of the rainbow. He takes another deep breath. With one look at Andi, he nods. Next thing Cyrus knew was that there’s a blank canvas in front of him. Andi had taken him to the art gallery and had given him extra supplies. When they arrived, the exhibit already had work done to it, including a mural from Walker. They were lucky enough to get this generous space. After spending more than enough time analyzing the supplies, Cyrus finally started working. He picks up the red and splashes it across the canvas. His face matches the color by how frustrated he is. The only thing he can think of in this moment is Kira, and how she came between him and TJ. Next is orange. Then yellow. And then green. And lastly blue. Blue has been said is the warmest color by some, but Cyrus can only feel coldness. Now TJ is on his mind, but only the terrible moments. When he saw TJ giving Kira a piggyback ride, to where they were hugging, and the worst moment of them all. TJ and Kira at the swing set. His swing set. Looking at his piece, he feels like something’s missing. Yeah, the purple. He adds a dash of purple to the bottom and attempts to blend as much as he could. After taking a final look at his creation, he smiled for the first time in days. The painting looks like one huge, deconstructed, extra flavorful rainbow. A few peace signs and hearts circled around the edges. Two boys are in the center, holding hands. One of the boys is holding a muffin, the other wearing a hoodie. Cyrus was so into his painting that he didn’t hear someone approach from behind. A tap on his shoulder startled him, also causing him to turn around. His face lit up, both in shock, fear, and happiness. His knees weakened and he could barely stand up. Now he was wondering who invited TJ. TJ rubs the back of his neck. He couldn’t make himself look Cyrus in the eyes. Cyrus was the first to say anything. “Why are you here?” “Andi invited me?” TJ answered a tad later. Although not looking directly at him, Cyrus could tell he’s upset and needs to say something. “She said you were creating something, and I wanted to be here for support. Like a good friend. If I still am your friend.” At those words, he managed to look at Cyrus. Cyrus could see tears forming. This reminds him of the gun incident and how TJ was acting afterwards when he lost his other friends. Even though Cyrus couldn’t take seeing TJ this way, it felt good given how TJ had made him feel. TJ looks at the painting and awes. “This is amazing. You sure you aren’t an artist?” Cyrus chuckles a little. His cheeks blush but hides it. “It’s just what I’m feeling. And who I am.” Upon further inspection, TJ notices the two people in the center. His face becomes confused as he tries to figure out who they are. Obviously, one was Cyrus, but had mixed thoughts regarding the second boy. “Who’s the other boy?” Now Cyrus was completely red. He face palms himself hard enough to leave a bruise, but he didn’t care about that. All he cares about now is that his crush is literally standing in front, and asking about, his basically coming out painting showing that he wishes the two of them would date. He wishes one of his parents were here to help calm him down. “It’s you.” Cyrus faintly says. His voice cracked a little and was a pitch higher than normal. “Surprise. I’m gay.” “Hey, gay. Me gay too.” The next sounds out of Cyrus’s mouth definitely weren’t English words or sounds. It was more like the random sound effects from cartoons. He attempts cleaning out his ears with his fingers to make sure nothing was clogging them. Sure enough, his ears are clean. TJ wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Yeah, I’m gay too. You couldn’t tell? I also have the biggest, dorkiest crush on you. Why do you think I’ve been upset when I thought you wouldn’t be my friend anymore?” Cyrus’s mouth stands wide open. It took him a minute, but he finally found the right word to say. “Same.” They both laugh. Cyrus looks around and sees an empty area in the corner. He gets TJ’s attention and nods in that direction. “Wanna create something together?” “It’s a date.”

[jj-ktae]

Erotica - Part 2 - (M)

Pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader Genre: SMUT Summary: You’re a rookie porn actress on the rise and everything goes well until you get offered a role in a big-budget porn movie, starring the most famous actor in the porn industry. Words: 4460 Warning: Read at your own risk

- Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Epilogue -

Part 2

The first day of filming ends the same way it started: cold. Jaebum doesn’t even talk to you when the director yells for the last time that day but it doesn’t annoy you.

You’d rather fuck yourself with sandpaper than become social with that cocky bastard. 

You’re grateful though, he doesn’t tease you as he gets out of bed, and simply grabs the bathrobe his manager hands him, before escaping the place.

He must feel so embarrassed for being whiny and asking to come like a virgin.

You chuckle victoriously when you arrive home.

After all, that Jaebum guy is just a plain, weak guy.

You find it hard to fall asleep, later that day. Your mother called you and you had to lie, like you’ve been doing for the last year. She thinks you’re a waitress, but never does she ask about details, merely asking if it’s going well.

You always assure her that everything is alright, and she feels happy when she hangs up, begging you to take care of yourself and not kill yourself with work. Sometimes, you’re glad your father is not around anymore to see what you became.

You wouldn’t bear to be a disgrace to him.

When you wake up, you want nothing more than go back to sleep.

❧

“So, today is about tenderness.” The director has the same stupid grin on his face, and you grunt when he starts explaining what he would like you to do. Jaebum nods from the side while a hairdresser is fixing the back of his already messy hair.

Also, his mouth is full of food.

You’re not in the mood for that, you don’t want to fuck with that guy again. It’s bad enough that you’re working as a porn actress.

It’s not like you don’t want it. No one forced you to do this, after all. It’s just that it’s easier to get money, and less painful than work as a waitress, which you tried already.

Funny enough, the sex industry in more respectful than most bars and nightclubs, and even though you couldn’t say you feel proud with your occupation, you somehow feel happy that you can earn money without working your ass off – no pun intended – and around people who take care of you.

Too bad your first big movie happens to be with the biggest jerk of all time.

“If you’re all ready, we’ll start in thirty minutes!” the director claps and starts giving instructions to the crew, while Jaebum turns around and leave the room, still followed by the hairdresser.

“Let’s go, Miss Y/N.” Your own staff nudges you gently toward the studio, claiming you need your makeup to be fixed before it’s time to start.

You sit back in front of the mirror and they are quick to work on you, tiny hands reaching for your face every now and then.

Jaebum is right next to you, focused on his phone while they add makeup on his undisturbed face.

You ignore him, not even glancing his way and focusing on the last minutes of preparation. You laugh when the makeup artist adds powder to your neck, claiming it tickled and they giggle back at you, looking so cute you wonder how they can work in the sex industry.

Once everything is done, you have only little time before it starts so you hurry to your dressing room, sighing to yourself.

“Can you stop being so childish?”

Jaebum’s voice makes you stop dead in your track, a hand still on the doorway. Did he just say what you think he said?

“Excuse me?” Only your head turns to meet the back his own, and you notice he isn’t even looking at you, too focused on playing on his phone.

“Be professional.” He adds and finally lifts his gaze. You’re greeted by his bored face, and his eyes are nothing but threatening.

Seriously, what’s wrong with him?

“I am professional.” You have nothing to say back to him. You know by now that he hates you, so there’s nothing you could say that would make him change his mind.

“It’s not a game. If you think we are all playing, then get the fuck out of here. You’re barely listening when the director speaks, you talk to the staff like they are your friends and you’re not involved in anything concerning that movie.” Jaebum gets up and almost throws his phone on the table, his hands reaching for his hips in a scolding manner. “Not everyone here came to play.”

You can’t believe it. Jaebum is throwing a fit because you don’t act the way he wants you to? “Think whatever you want, I honestly couldn’t care less of your opinion. Hate me all day and night.” You offer a fake smile, feeling proud for being responsible of the reaction Jaebum is giving you.

His jaw is so clenched it could break nuts.

“It has nothing to do with me hating you, no matter how much I do. I just find it unbelievable that I have to film with a spoiled brat who most probably got raised in a wealthy family and finds pleasure in doing something her parents would disinherit her for.” Jaebum voice gets lower and lower as he speaks, and you can see he finds pleasure in spitting this to your face.

But he doesn’t except you to react the way you do.

You don’t care about what he thinks of you, but you can’t accept the fact that he would talk about your personal life so carelessly. He has no idea how you grew up, he knows nothing about your past struggles, why you’re a porn actress, heck he doesn’t even know if you have parents. You hate it, you hate the fact that he would be so mean for basically no reason, just because he hates you.

“Listen, you can think whatever you want but don’t ever talk about my parents. Don’t you dare assume anything about them, understood?” Your face turns red from anger.

There’s only one thing you don’t play with and Jaebum so just happened to touch that thing with his dirty hands.

Jaebum smirks, and his shoulders shake from the annoying gesture, “Oh, maybe they already disinherited you? Is it why it hurts? This is the only thing you found so you could survive in this world? Easy money, right?” he adds and you take a deep breath.

Don’t, don’t go and slap him. He isn’t worth it.

You shake your head and don’t even understand why your throat is so clenched. Are you about to cry? He doesn’t even deserve you looking at his pathetic existence. 

“Since you desperately want to know: No, my family is not wealthy at all and the only thing I would inherit of are debts. I’m sorry if I’m breaking the wonderful picture you had drawn of my family, but it’s only me and my mother, because my father died when I was barely a teenager. And of course it’s easy money, you dumbass.”

You’re about to go but then the thought hits you, and you turn around, ready to roar at him. “Why would I even become a porn star in the first place if not for my mother who needs my fucking money to survive? Do you even do this because you want to? You’re even sicker than I thought. Don’t ever talk to me again.” You finally give up and go to your dressing room, your heart beating so fast it almost hurts.

You can’t believe your luck.

❧

You don’t get how you end up being hated by this guy and the thought is very troubling because you wanted this to work well. You were stressed already by the fact that it was your first big movie, but no, god wants you to suffer.

You’re supposed to be asleep, wearing only a tank top and thin black cotton panties. You’re laying by your side when the director yells.

ACTION!

You stay on your side, focused on ignoring Jaebum who is behind you. The briefing earlier talked about tenderness and simplicity, but you’re not into it. You don’t want to touch the body of a guy who wouldn’t hesitate to hate on you for no obvious reason.

If he doesn’t want to film with you, then he can quit. He is a big name in the industry, after all. It’s funny because the day before, while he was about to cum, you saw what you thought was his genuine side, the one that is normal and asking for things nicely. You truly thought he was just acting tough, but it turns out he is a real jerk.

You feel a body stick to your back but don’t move, eyes closed. You hear him breathe behind you, his chest warm and naked against your back.

His face comes next and kisses your nape, his lips moist and tingling. You stir because you have to act like it wakes you up, but you want nothing more but escape from here.

His arm slowly circles your waist and pulls you even closer, until your whole body is stuck to his. His hand lifts your tank-top and his fingers starts playing with the skin of your sides and belly, lazily brushing and earning a shiver from you.

At some point, you’re supposed to turn your head, you’re even supposed to react to what he does, but your mind is off. You hate him and can’t even act like you want him.

Jaebum feels it. He isn’t stupid, he knows you will give him the hardest time because he went too harsh on you.

After all, he brought this upon himself.

He stills tries though, he goes ever so slowly when he lifts the sheets to reveal your bodies, and he gently adds pressure when his fingers go to your thigh, drawing circles.

He buries his face in your neck, and you barely lift your head to leave some room for him to peck the skin. You don’t want him to even touch you, but the better you do this, the fastest it’ll be over.

You look at the wall in front of you and fake a contented sigh, lips slightly parted and eyelids fluttering. Jaebum thrusts his pelvis against your butt way too obviously, and you feel the cameraman’s knee dip on the bed to get a better view.

“I want you.” You hear him shudder against you but you want to snort and punch his face. Can he just fuck you and leave? You glance discreetly at the director who is nodding slightly, eyes focused and lips pursed. He doesn’t want a pointless sex session and it’s the first time in your life you’d rather have someone pound into you than make love to your body.

You don’t answer Jaebum. You let him hang on an answer that never comes, pelvis softly rubbing your buttocks and tongue out to taste your skin. You don’t feel him get angry or annoyed, and it’s surprising, considering his temper.

Instead, he hugs you closer to him and pulls on your panties. His hand is extremely hot, just like his feet and when he rubs them against yours, it feels better than any cunnilingus. You lazily help him and lift your pelvis, leaving some room for the underwear to disappear between the cream-colored sheets.

You don’t oppose to his ministrations. He is supposed to take the lead so you lay like a dead weight, your arms not even touching him back.

He lifts your leg and settles his hand at the back of your knee to keep it up. You almost yelp, not expecting him to go for that sort of position. His other hand slips in between your side and the mattress, making it easier for him stick your body close to his and have a free hand. You find yourself leaning against him, your tank-top now lifted all the way to your breast, your pussy exposed to everyone and somehow, it’s becoming embarrassing.

The cameraman runs to zoom on Jaebum’s free hand, now struggling to reach your breasts and it stops, pinching the tender skin.

He doesn’t reach for your core, yet he is already hard, and you wonder how he can be aroused when you’re showing no interest.

You’re as dry as a desert.

And Jaebum feels it as soon as he reaches down. His fingers brush ever so slowly against your skin, caressing your pussy lips and stopping to press on your clit. He goes on for five minutes and if it isn’t for his dick rubbing between your ass-cheeks and leaking of pre-cum, there would be no liquid to lubricate you.

He knows you’re not aroused, he knows why, that’s why he tries harder, determined to raise the temperature and earn at least one genuine moan from you.

You let him do the work, faking moans and needy grunts. Your voice is too high to be honest, your eyes are too focused to be clouded by pleasure, but you don’t care.

You’re simply not feeling this.

When Jaebum gets tired and feels you won’t even try to lift your leg by yourself, he almost gives up. Being professional is part of the job and if you can’t even put aside your little fight, then you might as well quit.

Yet he doesn’t get mad and sighs, hoping it would sound like he is loving what he is doing. He buries his face in your neck again and before he can think about it too much, he speaks.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, licking the skin and glancing sideways to see if someone heard him. Maybe he went too far. He could admit it. It’s not like he is a mean person and he totally blames it on his strong sense of responsibility. Maybe bringing your family up in the story hadn’t been is most clever move.

You hear him. Jaebum apologies at the worst moment he can find to do so but he does. You roll your eyes inwardly, not falling for it and deciding not to play along.

A second later, Jaebum fills you up from behind.

You gasp, surprised. He goes in so slowly it tickles, his skin so hot it burns your insides. He stops when he can’t go deeper and considering the position, you wonder if he could even go deeper anyways. Your hand instantly grabs his own who is now resting against your tummy as you feel him smile against you skin.

And you have no idea if he is being cocky or just relieved that you’re finally reacting.

You really don’t want to react. You don’t want to give him a reason to be arrogant later, but he starts moving out and you shudder unconsciously.

Why are you so sensitive today?

His tip almost goes out of you but he pushes back in, the pace agonizingly slow. You think it’s because of the position and the inclination of the thrusts, but you don’t have the time to analyse the situation, because he goes a tad faster and it is pure bliss.

You moan because it scrapes your walls and sends waves of pleasure to your body, making your shiver. Goosebumps appear on your skin, hair standing on end all over your arms and back.

“Ah…Just…” You can’t help but shiver agains. It’s not going the way you planned it and even Jaebum is surprised to see you so reactive suddenly.  

He isn’t about to complain, though. “Hmm..?” he hums, taking away his hand from behind your knee. “More…?” his voice is too velvety for your taste, and too sweet compared to what he can spit to your face but you don’t even care, he is increasing his pace and you bit your lip not to moan again.

Jaebum didn’t know he would love this. He isn’t a huge fan of soft love-making, and doesn’t know how to be tender when it comes to acting, yet he keeps on hitting the deepest parts of you, his penis pulsating and tip leaking every time he pulls away.

You lift your leg even more and thrust back, head thrown back in pleasure. The cameraman is filming your face, and this is exactly what the director wants when you moan, breathless.

Jaebum seizes the moment, his hand reaching for your face to grab your chin. He turns your head, cautious not the twist your neck and when you open your eyes, you barely have a second to see him.

He kisses you so fast you can’t react. He slows his pace but stays inside you and you contract around his penis painfully, earning a guttural groan from him. You swallow his every sound, not the least bothered by the kiss and forgetting about your previous promise to ignore him.

He might be a jerk, but he knows how to use his body. You hate him even more.

His tongue slightly rubs against your lips, and a second later he is biting it, sucking the flesh and moaning when he fastens his pace.

Your body is all twisted and your leg is becoming numb but it’s nothing compared to the way you’re coating him with endless layers of juice, earning dirty sounds from the friction and arousing you more than it should.

When your leg starts trembling, Jaebum knows he needs to do something. He thinks about it for a minute, but it’s suddenly hard to think, hard to focus on the next position when your sucking on his lip.

He should stop saying you’re just some rookie actress. You know things.

He stops the kiss and smirks softly, not eager to pull out of you. He still does it, whining almost inaudibly when his cock hits the way too cold air.

He finally has an idea. A brilliant one.

You wait for him to move and when he sits, you act like you know what he is about to do even though you have no idea what’s next. You don’t even try to do something; afraid he would reject the idea anyways.

It’s only when he lays the opposite way that you start to get what he is trying to do.

“Turn around, babe.” He whispers, caressing your leg and kissing your calf, “let me eat you out.”

Oh, that was unexpected.

You turn around, sliding down on the bed so he can reach your pussy and he wastes no time and dives right into it, or so to speak.

You whimper when his lips reach your skin. He doesn’t go full force yet, merely kissing your skin and licking his way up to your butt, biting one of your cheeks. He hums like he is having his last meal, and you unconsciously move your pelvis, eager to feel more and almost forgetting what your own task is.

It’s standing proudly right in front of your face, dangerous and shiny and red with patches of white essence. You grab it in the middle of your moans and start jerking it, licking your lips to emphasize your point when you see the cameraman come closer.

“Just like that, touch me…” Jaebum begs between licks and sighs, before going back to his task, burying his whole face into your core and thrusting his tongue into your widened hole.

You pant, ears on fire and face sweaty. You won’t last long and you both need to cum at the same time, because the director says it “sends the viewer a sense of connection”.

So you grab his penis with more force and lick it from base to tip, tongue flat and soft against him. You feel him tense around you, his voice signalling he is enjoying the attention very much.

You lick it for a long time before you decide he must cum. With the sudden position, you understand it is going to be either cum in your face or in your mouth, but you decide to go for the second option, mostly because you can’t give him the satisfaction of being covered in body fluids.

Jaebum doesn’t even care anymore, and is already sneaking two fingers into you, taking them out to lick them when the cameraman focus on him.

He spanks you lovingly a couple of times, gripping your buttocks and pushing your pelvis against his face and he wonders why he even decided to go for that position when he barely had anyone cum in his mouth in his whole career.

Yet, you’re moaning against his dick and it’s like a human vibrator. He will never say no to such a feeling, even though it must be horniness thinking for him right now.

No one talks, and it’s a mess of moans and suction sounds when you suck him harder. You purse your lips as much as you can, your free hand wandering all over his stomach. Your nails trace down from his chest to his abs, and start to play with his happy trail, making him move away from your teasing.

So the mighty Im Jaebum is ticklish?

You go down until you reach his balls and Jaebum knows he will lose it when you’ll start playing with them. Your hand is so warm, so soft, so sweet against his thin skin, he needs just a little push, just one good suck and he will-

“I’m...wait…” You whisper before he can tell you he is about to come, and he thanks all the gods that you’re also about to reach your climax.

He doesn’t have to beg this time.

“Me too..” He says, surprising himself for being able to talk when his lips are attached to your pussy.

You sigh, happy to let go and ready to be filled.

He cums a second before you, and you’re shocked to see that it arouses you even more, triggering your own orgasm and making you jerk violently against him. He grips you tighter, focusing on his own climax but still eager to give you more.

He laps everything he can, rubbing his face until his chin is as slippery as a soap and the feeling is not as bad as he remembered.

You swallow at the same time, trying not to choke because it needs to stay gracious and sensual.

When you’re done Jaebum even licks you clean, earning sounds of protestation from the over-stimulation. Your head finds the mattress again and you’re exhausted.

You expect a yell from the director, but everything goes silent, and you’re clueless as to what you have to do now.

Jaebum sits after a while, whipping his chin. He glances at you and when he sees you, eyes closed and looking satisfied, he smiles.

So much for ignoring him.

The director moves his hands in the air because he needs a sweet ending, so Jaebum gives him what he wants and lays back beside you, pulling on your body so you lay on top of him.

He grabs your face and you open your eyes, blinking.

“You’re beautiful.”

He kisses you right when the director yells.

CUT!

❧

“He isn’t that bad, come on.” Your manager rolls his eyes when you tell him you can’t stand Jaebum. You barely got out of the shower and he is already talking about your next scene like he secretly likes it.

“He is. He is an arrogant and mean jerk.” You state, putting your clothes on. You grab your bag when you’re done and start walking out of the studio, followed by the man who is now laughing.

“I don’t remember you being so loud during the last scenes you filmed…did you actually liked it and hate him for that?” He teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

You scoff, bewildered. “Excuse me? You talked about passion, I’m giving you passion! Feel good? His dick is ridiculous.” You snort, not ready to admit he just made you go blind with pleasure.

“If you say so…” the manager shrugs, before turning away, “I need to give your schedule to the director, you can go first. Rest well.” He pats your shoulder and runs back inside, hands full of papers.

You nod and yawn, hoping you’d grab a taxi fast enough for you to be in bed in the next thirty minutes.

The weather is cool, and thankfully the streets are not empty. The studio is far from everything else and you don’t mind, after all.

“Waiting for a taxi?” The voice makes you turn around, not expecting to have someone right behind you.

Jaebum looks is usual arrogant self. He is wearing way too large clothes and a black cap and he looks way softer than when he is in the studio.

You simply nod, ready to give him the cold shoulder. You can’t hold a conversation with this guy without fighting, so why would he even try to talk to you? He hates you, after all.

“I thought you accepted my apology.” He says quietly, eyes scanning for the road, but no taxi is coming around yet. “But you’re still mad at me.” He states, tone neither mad nor sad.

“I said don’t talk to me.” You say, looking away and seriously thinking about walking back home.

“And I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked about your personal life, it’s none of my business.” He adds looking at you even though you’re trying hard not to face him.

“That’s true, it’s none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t feel like staying with a guy who enjoys doing porn movies for fun. I hate pervs.” You say next, but Jaebum only laughs, a hand reaching for his mouth and he suddenly looks like a kid.

“You’re unbelievable, who said I was doing this for fun? And what if I am enjoying? Some people do love sex, you know. It’s better than molest others.”  Jaebum isn’t offended, he even looks amused.

You ponder, suddenly in the mood to make fun of him. “True. Creeps don’t beg to cum, right?”

Jaebum shrugs, nodding. “Exactly. I was waiting for that one, by the way.” He admits.

He doesn’t mind being teased and it’s so unlike what you’ve seen of him so far. You thought he was untouchable, the type of guy who couldn’t stand anyone talking bad about him.

He actually sounds rather chill.

Jaebum walks before you and stops, observing your face. “The creep is going back home, thanks for the nice chit-chat.” He mocks, way too amused.

You simply nod, forgetting about your previous promise to ignore him until you die. “Bye.” You try to sound indifferent, and Jaebum smirks, annoying you with a smile that proves he can’t be affected by anything you say.

“Bye, rookie.” He waves and walks away, catching a taxi on the way and pointing toward you so the car can stop at your level.

That guy must be crazy.

[sorbriquette]

Day 1 - A Declaration of War

Righto so this is Carry On Countdown Day 1 - Flowershop AU. 

While normally I would only post to AO3 because there are people who’s opinions I care about that follow me here but it is kinda a tumblr event no?

Also those of you still waiting on Not Really’s epilogue it’s coming, I wrote it before I wrote this I just also scrapped the entire thing cause I hated it but it’s coming I promise.

Technically a Florist/Tattoo artist Au cause I can’t help myself but weves. Under the cut yo cause its like 3k

Simon POV

I see him again as I'm packing up the flower pots we keep outside. A wave of unrestrained (and arguably unreasonable) anger washes over me.

It's not like I'm surprised, it happens nearly every day.

I'm packing up for the day as the sun starts to set and that bastard meanders on through smoking his cigarette and fucking up my air. He always looks at me and sneers or wrinkles his nose. I always meet his gaze because I'm not a coward and anything else feels like backing down.

He's a couple of inches taller than me but I'm pretty sure I could take him. He's thin, doesn't look like much.

I suppose vampires don't have to look like much, though, do they? What with super strength and hearing and what not.

I don't really think he's a vampire. But he only ever works evenings and he's got a widow’s peak and a strong aura of aristocratic conceit and he's unfairly pretty. So, I call him the vampire when me and Penny talk about him. Mainly because I don't actually know his name. We've never exchanged any words, just various glares as we pass each other.

He works at the tattoo shop next door, I think. I've never asked or been in, obviously. But he's there nearly every night and I can't see any ink on him.

He gives me one more disdainful look before snubbing his cigarette and tossing it in the bin.

I resist the urge to toss the cactus I'm carrying at him.

I don't because I'm on the clock and that would only damage Ebb's business, which I wouldn't do because she was kind enough to give me a job. That doesn't stop me vividly imagining throwing a cactus at his smug face, though.

I pack things up quick enough after that.

* * *

"You're home early. Vampire boy there today then?" Penny asks when I walk through the door to our flat.

I shrug. "Yeah, what's that got to do with anything?"

Penny hums to herself, flicking absently through a book that must be bigger than her head. "You just work much faster once you see him."

"Yeah, because he ruins my day and I don't want to be there anymore."

"Oh, so you don't work slowly because you're waiting to see him?"

I scowl at what Penny is insinuating but she doesn't look up to acknowledge it. "No, I take my time and enjoy my job before he comes and ruins it."

Penny gives a dubious hum and tilts her head to the side slightly, bright blue bun flopping around. "Whatever you say, Si."

* * *

"I'll take the most passive-aggressive bunch of flowers you have," a voice says, startling me from the Tetris I was playing on my phone.

If I were leaning back any further on my chair I'd have toppled over. Black hair, grey eyes, red-gold skin and a stupid widow's peak. "You," I basically hiss at him.

In hindsight, not how I should talk to a customer. But he shouldn't even be here, the sun's still up.

"Me?" he asks raising one stupidly well-defined eyebrow. He sounds exactly like I'd expected him to. Posh, stuck up, rude.

I bite my tongue and settle all four legs of my chair back on the ground.

Be polite, he's a customer. I repeat over and over in my head like some kind of mantra.

"How can I help you?" I try again.

If anything, he looks more confused, the corner of his lips pulling together in a harsh line as he observes me. "Passive-aggressive flowers, please," he repeats.

I frown. "What are they for?"

"I didn't know your services doubled as a therapist."

I roll my eyes. Yep, exactly as much of a prick as I'd imagined in my head. "If I know what they're for I can help tailor them to the occasion. Passive aggressive isn't much to go on."

He scrunches up his face further. "If you must know, my father is coming to visit."

I glance away from him for a moment. "Sorry."

I think I see him roll his eyes but I still refuse to look there so I can't be sure. "Don't worry about it, I just need a bouquet."

I nod to myself and waltz out from behind the counter and into the shop proper to join him. 'Well, obviously we don't make bouquets that say, 'fuck you' on the regular, but I can make one up.”

He follows me as we wander over to the corner of the store where the loose flowers are kept.

"Yellow carnations are for disdain," I say plucking one out of a bucket by the door, "Peonies sometimes mean anger, Rhododendron means danger, tansy is a declaration of war, or is that a bit much?"

"Bit much," he says and I put the tansy back.

I hold the other three up for him. "You can smell them if you want, see what you prefer."

He holds up a hand almost immediately and takes a step back. "No thank you. I've terribly hay fever, I had to take three anti-histamines before even coming in here."

Oh. Allergies.

Oh no.

Had I been imagining our feud this entire time? Was his crinkled nose always just because of the plants and not me?

I'm an idiot.

Penny's going to have a field day with this.

"Are you alright?" he questions, pulling me out of my momentary freakout.

"I thought you hated me," I say before I catch the words falling out my mouth.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise again. "What?"

Oh well, I'm in deep already, it's not like anything I could say would make this worse. "Whenever you walked past you always looked so well, disdainful," I say holding up the carnation, "I thought you hated me."

"Why would I hate you? I don't know you."

I shrug again, a few petals falling off the handfuls of flowers I have at the violence of the gesture. "I hated you," I tell him, once again, not thinking.

"You did?" He actually looks a little offended at that.

"Yeah, but only because I thought you hated me."

He stares at me for a few seconds, staring me up and down as I turn red enough to rival the roses beside me.

"You're an idiot," he says eventually, like he's just come to some grand realisation.

In that moment I can't even think of anything to say but, "yeah."

He watches me a moment more before he starts laughing. I only manage to flush darker at that. Maybe I should go get Ebb and let her handle this.

He just shakes his head by the end of it. "To think, you never sent me any tansies."

"I -uh - I can have your order done by this afternoon if you want to come pick it up before work," I tell him because I desperately want to change the subject.

He raises an eyebrow ever higher. "Have you been stalking me as part of this imaginary war of yours?" He's just teasing, I think.

"Don't be a git, you work next door, right?"

He seems to take a pity on me, at least for a moment. "Yes, and thank you, that sounds great."

I gather up the flowers and head back behind the counter, too shaken up to actually say anything. He seems to get the message and follows anyway, leaning lazily against the counter top and I start putting his order into the system.

"That'll be about twenty quid, you can pay when you pick it up. Could I just grab a name for that order?"

I prepare a multitude of reasons because really, I don't need his name. I'll be here this afternoon when he comes to pick them up. I want to know it though, so I ask. I can't keep calling him the vampire forever. Mainly because now I've seen him in the sun and he neither burns nor sparkles.

"Basil," he says and this time it's my turn to start giggling.

I do my best to contain it but putting a hand over my mouth and pursing my lips does little to stop the sound escaping.

"Something funny?" He asks, still looking more amused than anything.

"Basil means hate."

A frown mars his features. "What?"

"We were talking about what plants mean. Basil; it means hate. You want me to put some in the bouquet?"

Apparently, he does find some amusement in it because I see the corner of his mouth twitch up. I guess he only laughs properly when it's at someone else. "No, do not."

"Have it your way. Is there anything else I can get for you?" I ask because I am a good employee, no matter how much I'm praying from him to just leave and let this mortification end.

"Your name."

"What?"

"You have my name now I want yours," he doesn't so much ask as demands.

I don't have it in me to deny him right now. "Uh, Simon Snow."

He basically snorts, he looks a little embarrassed by it but apparently I'm terrible at reading him so who really knows? "Well, Snow, I'll see you this afternoon."

"You can just call me, Simon," I yell after him as he leaves. I'm not sure if the door shuts before or after I say it but he gives no sign of having heard.

* * *

"So why do you work in a tattoo shop but not have any tatts?" I ask as soon as he walks through the door.

Basil actually looks a little taken aback by my words. "Do you always pry so deep into the lives of your customers?" He asks sauntering up to the counter. I'm not sure if he'd call it sauntering, but I definitely think it's sauntering.

"It's called small talk."

"My father insists I get some 'real world experience' and my aunt had connections so I got a job there. I have a steady hand and an eye for detail."

"You got the job your father wanted you to and now you're buying 'fuck you' flowers?"

"No. He loathes that I work there. He just wanted me to work, so I got the job he'd hate most."

"So why the flowers?"

He raises an eyebrow at me again but a smirk accompanies it this time. "Allergies run in the family."

I just nod. Seems like the kind of devious scheme this guy would be in on. What’s the point of a shitty gesture if people legitimately think you're being nice. "One moment, I'll grab your order."

"So, how's your relationship with your parents?" He calls after me as I disappear into the back.

I come back a moment later with his arrangement and lay it down on the counter. "None of your business," I tell him as I begin entering prices into the till.

"Now now, you pry into my life, I get to pry into yours. It's only fair."

I glance up at him and he's still looking unbearably smug, so I can't help myself, "No clue, I was raised in care."

His expression doesn't change. "And now we're even."

I roll my eyes. Maybe I was right to hate this guy, he is kind of a prick. It is kind of nice not to coddled and fawned over the moment people find that out, though.

I don't respond I just shrug and hand him the eftpos machine.

He pays and scoops up his flowers, tossing a quick, "Thank you, Snow." over his shoulders as he walks out.

"It's Simon," I remind him again.

And again, I get no response.

* * *

The next time I see Baz it's one of his regularly scheduled walks by the store on his way to work.

He gives me a nod in greeting, exhaling a puff of smoke from his lips as they're drawn into a half smile. "Snow," is all he says in greeting.

I'm halfway through putting a couple of pots of orchids back inside and I almost trip over myself placing them on the nearest table and darting back inside, shouting a quick, "stay there," over my shoulder at Baz.

When I come back outside, I almost wish he hadn't listened to me. But he did. He's still standing there, cigarette now blissfully extinguished.

I thrust the bouquet of flowers at him, not daring to actually look him in the eye.

He hesitates a moment, "Snow, I have allergies, we've been through this."

"They're fake," I feel the flowers lifted from my grasp and tentatively let go, "well, the basil isn't but I don't think that will mess you up."

I can see him raising an eyebrow over the flowers he's currently got his face buried in. "Which means hate? Are you trying to tell me something, Snow?"

"There's tansies too, so -"

"A declaration of war?" He cuts me off.

I nod. "I thought it was only fair that you knew about our rivalry this time."

"Is that so? And what does this one mean?" he asks, looking stupidly smug, as a draws a single rose from the centre.

"I think you know what it means." I brace myself for rejection, for him to throw the flowers back and laugh in my face.

He just gives a soft hum instead. "Do I? I'm not a florist. Enlighten me."

It sounds almost like a challenge and I never back down from a challenge. Still challenge or no, my voice wavers slightly when I respond. "It means that maybe I'd like to take you to dinner on Wednesday night? You don't work then right?"

When his eyebrow raises this time it's an over exaggerated gesture that makes my stomach drop with panic as I wait for him to taunt me. He does, of course.

"That's a very specific meaning."

I flush again and drag a hand through my hair. Why am I always so flustered around him?

His gaze softens some, "But yes, I'd like to go for dinner." If he questions why I know when he works, he doesn't voice it, which is probably for the best. "I'll meet you here at 6? That's when you finish right." Or maybe that's why he doesn't question my knowledge of his schedule.

"Uh, yeah," I nod vigorously.

He smiles at me once more over the top of the flowers, a proper smile this time. "I should get to work, thank you for the flowers, Simon."

I almost go to shout after him and correct my name. But I don't need to. He called me Simon.

* * *

"If you want to do this, you're going to need to get off me," Baz tells me.

I huff and unwillingly detach from his side as he flicks the lights on in the tattoo parlour. Apparently even his seemingly nocturnal working hours have a limit.

"Go sit down, I'll be with you in a moment," he calls as he rushes around grabbing various equipment.

I do sit down in the chair, waiting as patiently as I can for my boyfriend to gather what he needs. I'm surprisingly nervous. It's not like I've never gotten a tattoo before and it's not like I don't trust Baz. Somehow the combination of the two sets me on edge though.

"Right," he more announces than says as he takes a seat beside me, needle at the ready, "what are we doing and where?"

Nothing too complicated he'd said because of time and resources and costing the store money in ink.

"This," I unlock my phone and hand it to him, picture open, before shedding my shirt, "on my shoulder."

His gaze rakes over me for a moment but Baz has always had a fair bit of restraint and he just glances at the phone once more before firing up the tattoo gun.

He leans a bit closer but right before needle pierces skin he pulls back and switches it off, picking up my phone again, a scowl decorating his features.

"What's wrong?" I ask tentatively.

"Simon," he says slowly, turning the phone to face me, "is this basil?"

I turn as red as I did the day we first talked. "Maybe. Would that be a problem?"

"We've barely been together a year," he says like it means something.

"So?" I say like it means nothing.

He sighs and puts the needle down shaking his head. "You have no idea how many people I see in here getting a tattoo of their partner only to pop back in a few months later to get it changed into something else."

I frown at him, like maybe if I can just glare hard enough, I'll get a glimpse into that mind of his. "Are you planning on breaking up with me?"

"No," he says quickly, before settling and using his usual, calm measured tone, "but none of the other couples were either. I'm just saying when- if -we break up, you don't want that."

I take my own turn to sigh, folding my arms over my still bare chest as I glower at him, "I'm not saying you need to get one. I don't see why it matters."

He does have some tattoos, just ones that are usually covered by his clothes. I can confidently say I've seen all of them by this point.

He scoffs at me. "So, if I wanted to get your name scrawled across my lower back, you'd just let me do that?"

"That's not the same thing," I snap.

I'd expected this to end in a bit of embarrassment for me when Baz figured it out, not a fight.

"It is very much so the same thing."

I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off.

"Do you trust me?"

I stare at him for a few moments. I do. I know I do. But I also don't particularly want him talking me out of this. I relent after a few moments, "yeah."

"Good," he says, picking the needle back up and flicking it on, "hold still."

And I do. Because I do trust him, even if it hurts like a bitch.

"Done," he says after what feels like eons but I'm sure has only been minutes.

I glance down at my shoulder, making out yellow and green but it's hard to tell exactly what from this angle. Baz passes me a mirror.

"Thought I'd make it official," he tells me as I angle the mirror.

A small bunch of tansies decorates my upper arm.

A declaration of war.

[dxmedstudent]

Roger Kneebone, professor of surgical education at Imperial College London, said that a decline in hands-on creative subjects at school and practical hobbies at home means that students often do not have a basic understanding of the physical world.Backing a campaign by educational thinktank the Edge Foundation to encourage more creative subjects in the national curriculum, Kneebone said spending hours engaged in virtual worlds was no substitute for experience in the real world.

Okay, you know what? I’m mad. Not at the interestingly named Mr Kneebone, but at the wider picture. Whilst the popularityof smartphones is real, there are still lots of young people out there making artistic things and being practical with their hands.  I just think it’s harder for those people to get into medicine. You want students to be more creative? Stop putting up the grade requirements for what you need to get into med school. There’s no reason why someone with A*AA would be a better doctor than someone with AAA or even AAB. You need someone with academic skills, but getting good grades is more than enough proof of someone’s ability to understand the basics and work hard; they don’t need to have ‘perfect’ results. Because it’s hard to balance A levels and getting the high grades you need to get in, with the extracurricular activities you need for emdicine, and preparing for the entrance  . And frankly, well-meaning older figures who got into med school when the grade boundaries were much lower, probably can’t always understand what the pressures are like today, unless they listen.

But Arts and crafts are incredibly time consuming and therefore difficult. And other arts that help with manual dexterity (say, playing an instrument) are also very time -consuming. Everyone likes the idea of a student who can play the violin or paint well, but they also like the idea of picking students with the absolute highest numerical marks; they want to have their cake and eat it. We end up with students feeling pressured to spend less time on creative exploits, only to be told that they aren’t developing enough skills because they gave up playing the piano or doodling to get the grades to get in and stay in medicine. But if you basically demand students have absolutely exceptional grades and ever increasing percentages in their exams, you’re basically guaranteeing that students who are creative will  be forced to put less time into their hobbies or give up entirely, in order to keep up with the demands. Because there’s only so much time in the day. And most of the creative students I know didn’t necessarily get the absolute best grades; they did welll, sure, but the students who do absolutely best in exams are often those with very little life outside of revision. I’m a crafty person; I learned to knit, to embroider, to sew. I taught myself to draw, to paint, to create. I’m exactly the kind of former med student that is perfect on paper in this context And you know what? That’s only ever been an interesting aside in medicine; my skills and interests in that arena have never been valued seriously, because when it matters, the criteria always default back to things like grades or publications, and eportfolios are another kind of hell entirely. At the med school application level, hobbies are a very small part of applications compared to grades, entrance exams, interviews, and the entirety of your personal statement, though at least they are acknowledged in that context. Further up, they count for a lot less. The emphasis is much more on other achievements. Which is what it is; there’s a lot to be said about medical training, progression, and what we choose to value or allocate points for when it comes to applications etc. But the point here is that it’s not entirely fair to criticise people for not allocating a huge amount of time to pursuits that you don’t in any way encourage or value when it comes to it. I am creative in spite of being in medicine, rather than being enabled by it.  If you really think creativity adds to medicine, then perhaps encouraging it, or explicitly valuing it in those who take the time, would encourage more people to be open about their interests, and encourage more people to keep up with them. Maybe this’d all be very well, if working in medicine itself didn’t crush the creativity, mental health, and general life out of the people who work in it. Many people I’ve worked with have expressed concerns with how medicine is increasingly becoming dominated by basic ‘service provision’ (i.e keeping the service running, but at the expense of learning opportunities or chances to really engage with patients), and protocols, and how the ability to think creatively in medicine is increasingly stifled because our progression is 100% about ticking boxes on our portfolios, which are surprisingly hard to actually do, because there’s just so many boxes to tick on top of working busy jobs with plenty of oncall 12h shifts. From what I know about surgical training, I don’t think it’s any healtheir than general medical training. There’s probably a lot that we could improve. And I agree, these hobbies and skills and being good with your hands is definitely important for medicine, particularly surgery. They are also just really, really fun in general, and it’d be great if more people got to explore their creative side. I don’t see the world as being separated between ‘creatives’ and non-creatives; I really believe that anyone can get into creative hobbies at any time in their life, and that there’s a creative hobby out there for everyone, potentially. One of my best friends picked up drawing again in her 30s, and I’m so glad she did, because it’s amazing how quickly she’s improved, and how much joy she gets out of it, and I honestly enjoy seeing her journey so much. So many people tell me “Ah you draw? I wish I could draw! I’m no good at that!”, but I think that they might well have more potential than they realised, if they didn’t feel put off by the idea that you have to pick up a hobby as a child, or else you won’t be any good. But that doesn’t ahve to be true, and anyhow, hobbies or creating don’t have to be about being good, they can be about enjoyment. But I don’t think it’s constructive to bemoan youngsters “not doing X enough” in general, or act like we’re divorced from all this. We, those in medicine, those who shape training, those who pick the criteria for what students get in, and those of us who shape society (that’s everyone, you included) also shoulder the responsibility. If we want students to do something, it’s up to us to facilitate that. To encourage. To give them the tools and the environment where exploring new hobbies is encouraged. To form an environment where students can learn these skills, and develop these experiences. I learned the fibre arts from my mum; many people might not have that kind of encouragement at a young age if their parents missed out on it. So how can we encourage kids into woodwork, or crafting, or music. Music is another rant and post altogether; learning instruments is expensive and difficult and it’s easy for a wealthy person to say ‘why aren’t kids learning instruments?’ as if everyone has the money to give their kids bassoon lessons. But in reality it can be hard to encourage participation in  we need to think about how to encourage kids to try new things, and to dedicate time to hobbies, in a world that increasingly puts more and more time demands on us all.

[bangtan]

BTS Speaks Out In Seoul: The K-Pop Megastars Get Candid About Representing a New Generation

No sound on the planet inspires as obsessive a fandom as K-pop. The “Bulletproof Boy Scouts” of BTS have (finally, for real) imported that mania to America -- all in Korean, as they rally dissatisfied millennials around the globe. Built in 1957 as a reception hall for South Korea’s fledgling postwar government to entertain foreign dignitaries, the Korea House is a quiet oasis amid the tumult of Seoul, with a photogenic courtyard and collection of old-school Korean houses known as hanoks. Normally it’s the setting for historical TV dramas or weddings, but on this bright, cold mid-January morning, it’s a hideaway for the seven-man Korean pop group BTS, whose celebrity has expanded past K-pop’s traditional sphere of influence and, especially during the last six months, moved into the United States as well. When I arrive, the band is sequestered in a room within a room, behind paper doors manned by a security detail. In the outer room, over 20 groomers, publicists and other handlers from the group’s management agency, BigHit Entertainment, mill about, grazing on the provided snacks and drinks. Everyone speaks in low tones. The members of BTS need an extra 15 minutes before the scheduled photo shoot, I’m told. They are, understandably, exhausted: Their schedule has been packed since New Year’s Eve with performances, TV appearances, commercials and meet-and-greets. I flew into Seoul expressly to meet them for this rare opening in their calendar. The first to emerge from the room is J-Hope, 23, the former street dancer from the city of Gwangju, who capers down the steps, then doubles back to get RM, also 23, the group’s leader and English-speaking ambassador. The rest soon file out wearing similarly dark Saint Laurent-heavy outfits: Suga, 24, the idealistic and soulful rapper; Jimin, 22, the baby-faced modern dancer; V, 22, the master impressionist; Jungkook, 20, the golden maknae (youngest member, a sort of privileged position in K-pop) who’s good at everything; and Jin, 25, who’s known as “Worldwide Handsome.” They form a semicircle of multicolored bowl cuts, and RM comments on how tall I am (6 feet) and that I can speak Korean (like a 10-year-old). They’re photo-ready but groggy enough that I wish they’d taken another 15 minutes to rest. But time is money, and these guys are worth a lot. It’s reasonable that BigHit would handle the members like prized jewels. They’re among the biggest stars in K-pop -- their last album, 2017’s Love Yourself: Her, has sold 1.58 million physical copies around the globe, according to BigHit. And while it may not be a household name in the United States, BTS -- which stands for Bangtan Sonyeondan and roughly translates to “Bulletproof Boy Scouts” -- is pulling unprecedented numbers for a group that mainly sings in Korean to an American populace that has long resisted K-pop’s charms. Love Yourself: Her debuted at No. 7 on the Billboard 200 in September 2017, and BTS claims the two highest-charting songs for a K-pop group ever, “DNA” (which peaked at No. 67 on the Billboard Hot 100) and the Steve Aoki remix of “Mic Drop,” featuring Desiigner (No. 28). In the States alone, BTS has sold 1.6 million song downloads and clocked 1.5 billion-with-a-“B” on-demand streams, according to Nielsen Music. BTS has connected with millennials around the globe even though -- or really, because -- the act seems to challenge boy-band and K-pop orthodoxies. Sure, it’s got love songs and dance moves. But BTS’ music, which the members have helped write since the beginning, has regularly leveled criticism against a myopic educational system, materialism and the media, venting about a structure seemingly gamed against the younger generation. “Honestly, from our standpoint, every day is stressful for our generation. It’s hard to get a job, it’s harder to attend college now more than ever,” says RM, until recently known as Rap Monster. “Adults need to create policies that can facilitate that overall social change. Right now, the privileged class, the upper class needs to change the way they think.” Suga jumps in: “And this isn't just Korea, but the rest of the world. The reason why our music resonates with people around the world who are in their teens, 20s and 30s is because of these issues.” The shoot’s done, and we’re sitting on couches in a small living room-like space amid the production studios at the BigHit offices, the members changed into cozy but still-stylish jackets and knitwear. Here at home, speaking in Korean, they’re calmer and less eager to impress than they were on their recent, occasionally awkward American press tour, where they did the rounds on The Late Late Show With James Corden, Jimmy Kimmel Live! and The Ellen DeGeneres Show, where RM gamely evaded questions about dating. Today, their voices are noticeably deeper, more sonorous. RM does, as usual, a lot of the talking, sometimes throwing questions out to the quieter members. But Suga is a surprise: garrulous and thoughtful, seemingly primed for a socially conscious rap battle. Rabid K-pop fandom is, by now, a pop-culture cliche. Even in a world where supporters of American stars engineer efforts to goose chart positions and feud with rival fandoms -- Beatlemania multiplied by the internet, basically -- K-pop stans are legendarily devoted and influential. The BTS ARMY (that’s short for “Adorable Representative M.C for Youth”) is the engine powering the phenomenon: It translates lyrics and Korean media appearances; rallies clicks, views, likes and retweets to get BTS trending on Twitter and YouTube; and overwhelms online polls and competitions. BigHit says that it makes sure to disseminate news and updates about the band on the fan cafe, so as not to arouse the wrath of the ARMY. The global fan base is why a group you may never have heard of is attaining the upper ranks of the U.S. charts; playing late-night slots; appearing at the Billboard Music Awards, where it picked up the fan-voted top social artist trophy in 2017; and performing on the American Music Awards. (“The AMAs were the biggest gift we could have gotten from our fans,” says Suga.) Purely in terms of social media, they’re just about the biggest thing going, driving BTS to 58 weeks at No. 1 on the Social 50 chart, a total that’s second only to Justin Bieber’s, and more than doubles the number of weeks scored by the third-place act -- none other than Taylor Swift. The ARMY doesn't merely idolize the members of BTS, it identifies with them. When the group debuted in 2013 with 2 Kool 4 Skool, the members talked about the pressures familiar to any Korean student: the need to study hard, get into college and find a stable job. Their first singles, “No More Dream” and “N.O.,” castigated peers who attended classes like zombies without a sense of purpose. What was all this education for, they asked -- to become “the No. 1 government worker?” The tracks were a throwback to Korean pop acts like H.O.T. and Seo Taiji & Boys, only updated for a generation saddled with debt in an increasingly competitive economy. “I was talking about my past self,” says RM, confessing that he was one of those drones. “There was nothing I wanted to do; just that I wanted to make a lot of money. I started the song by thinking about it as a letter written to friends who were like me in the past.” “College is presented like some sort of cure-all,” says Suga. “They say that if you go, your life will be set. They even say you’ll lose weight, get taller...” RM: “That you’ll get a girlfriend...” Jin: “That you’ll become better-looking...” Suga: “But this isn't the reality, and they realize that was all a lie. No one else can take responsibility for you at that point. “If we don’t talk about these issues, who will?” continues Suga. “Our parents? Adults? So isn't it up to us? That’s the kind of conversations we have [in the band]: Who knows best and can talk about the difficulty our generation faces? It’s us.” As they become increasingly famous, though, the artists have also become wary of saying what might be perceived as the wrong or “political” thing. Suga is the most outspoken. When I ask them about the massive candlelight protests calling for President Park Geun-hye’s resignation in Seoul last winter, Suga readily takes on the topic: “Moving past right and wrong, truth and falsehood, citizens coming together and raising their voice is something that I actively support.” RM, on the other hand, is more alert to potential sensitivities. On the recent death of Jonghyun of K-pop group SHINee, who suffered from depression and committed suicide last December, he says, “We went to give our condolences that morning. I couldn't sleep at all that night. It was so shocking, because we had seen him so often at events. He was so successful.” Adds Suga, “It was a shock to everyone, and I really sympathized with him,” and then RM moves to end the conversation: “That’s about all we can say.” But Suga goes on. “I really want to say that everyone in the world is lonely and everyone is sad, and if we know that everyone is suffering and lonely, I hope we can create an environment where we can ask for help, and say things are hard when they’re hard, and say that we miss someone when we miss them.” I later bring up a tweet that RM wrote in March 2013, saying that when he understood what the lyrics to Macklemore & Ryan Lewis’ gay-marriage anthem, “Same Love,” were about, he liked the song twice as much. BTS fans naturally took this to mean that BTS openly supported gay rights -- a rarity in K-pop. Today, he’s slightly circumspect on the topic: “It’s hard to find the right words. To reverse the words: Saying ‘same love’ is saying ‘love is the same.’ I just really liked that song. That’s about all I have to say.” Suga, though, is clear on where he stands: “There’s nothing wrong. Everyone is equal.” BTS’ meteoric rise was something of a surprise, even in Korea. Three years into its career -- eons in the K-pop life cycle -- the group finally gained traction in 2016 with hits like “Blood, Sweat, Tears” and “Burn It Up.” Part of the reason is that BTS is the first major act to come out of BigHit Entertainment, an anomaly simply in that it is not one of the “Big Three” entertainment companies -- YG, JYP and SM -- that control the Korean music industry, producing most of the past decade’s notable pop acts, including Girls’ Generation, BIGBANG, Super Junior, Wonder Girls and 2NE1. And BTS simply didn't have the same feel as factory-fresh groups created to dominate the Asian music markets. Bang Si-hyuk, the founder/CEO of BigHit, cut his teeth at JYP, working alongside Park Jin-yong and writing and producing hits for Rain, 2AM and Baek Ji-young. “Even the people around me didn't believe in me,” he says, recalling the early days with BTS. “Even though they acknowledged that I had been successful in the past, they didn't believe I could take this boy group to the top.” Like the other companies, BigHit oversees everything from recording to distribution to marketing to events for its acts. He says that people thought the “Bulletproof Boy Scouts” name had a North Korean feel, but he felt that they would become a metaphorical bulletproof vest for their generation. Bang originally wanted to create a hip-hop group -- “like Migos,” according to RM. He first listened to RM’s demo tape in 2010 and still remembers some of the lines. (He cites, “My heart is like a detective who is the criminal’s son. Even as I know who the criminal is, I can’t catch him.”) “It was shocking to me,” says Bang. “RM is extremely self-reflective, sophisticated and philosophical, considering his age.” RM, whose real name is Kim Nam-joon, was only 15 at the time. Bang signed him immediately. Back then, though, “idol groups” -- boy bands and girl groups -- like Super Junior and SNSD were ascendant. So Bang created an act that would meld the honesty of hip-hop with the visual flair and charisma of a boy band in the vein of BIGBANG. During the next couple of years, he recruited Suga, a rapper he describes as having an “I don’t give a fuck” magnetism masking a humble core, and then J-Hope, the street dancer. BigHit then held extensive auditions. A casting director chased Jin after seeing him get off a bus and convinced him to try out for the group; he eventually made the team alongside V and Jungkook. Jimin was the last to join, after a BigHit agent scouted him at a modern dance school. In the beginning, each of the members tried their hand at rhyming. “I went so far as to learn how to rap,” says Jimin, who, like Jungkook, now sings. “But after they had me do it once, they were like, ‘Let’s just work harder on vocals.’” RM nods -- “It was the wise choice,” he says -- and everyone bursts out laughing. These were BigHit’s ragtag champions, and they have a sense of unity. Early on, they lived together in one small room, sleeping in bunk beds and learning one another’s sleep habits. (Jimin does strange contortions in bed, and Jungkook has started snoring. “It’s TMI,” acknowledges RM.) They still live together, just with a little more space -- J-Hope and Jimin sharing the biggest room -- and plan to keep doing so. “When we’re at home, we go around to everyone’s room,” says Jin. “Even when I go home [to see family], I get bored, honestly,” adds Suga. “And if there’s a problem or someone has hurt feelings, we don’t just leave it, we talk about it then and there.” “So if Hope and Jin fight, it’s not just the two of them that resolve it,” explains Jungkook. “It’s all seven of us!” says Suga. “Everyone gathers together,” says RM, ever the intellectual. “It’s like an agora in ancient Greece: We gather and we ask: ‘What happened?’” After the interview, RM takes me to his production studio, a small room at the end of a hall decorated with giant KAWS figurines in glass boxes, a Supreme poster of Mike Tyson and skateboards. Inside, the walls are lined with his own KAWS toys and a model version of the Banksy piece “Rage, Flower Thrower” that he admits paying a hefty sum for. Other than that, there’s just a typical workstation: a pullout chair, giant monitor and the most precious item of all, his laptop. In BTS’ lyrics, there’s a motif of the baepsae, a squat, fluffy bird native to Korea and known as the crow-tit. A Korean expression says that if a crow-tit tries to walk like a stork, it’ll tear its own legs. It’s a cautionary tale -- a suggestion that you shouldn't try too hard or be something that you’re not. But BTS deploys it as a brag, a declaration of a small, striving bird. In “Silver Spoon,” Suga puts a cheeky, boastful spin on it: “Our generation has had it hard/We’ll chase them fast/Because of the storks the crotch of my pants is stretched tight/So call me baepsa e.” Now that they are, almost in a literal sense, on top of the world, can they still claim to be underdogs? “We’re very careful about calling ourselves baepsaes now,” says Suga. “But the reality is that that’s where we started and that’s where our roots are.” And RM points out that they still consider themselves agents for change: “If there are problems, we’ll bring it up so that our voices can get louder, so that the climate changes and we can talk about it more freely.” BTS is the K-pop group of the moment because it balances the contradictions inherent to the genre on a genuinely global scale: The act is breaking through in America singing and rapping in Korean, creating intimacy through wide exposure on social media, expressing political ideas without stirring up controversy and inspiring fervent obsession with mild-mannered wholesomeness. It is the underdog that has arrived. But the group would rather you not ask what’s next. Its members and producers are skillfully evasive when it comes to questions about the next BTS album -- although they apparently have no immediate plans for an English-language release, intuiting that such a move would alienate their core fan base. Instead, they seem content to keep doing what they do. RM, of course, is philosophical about it. “In Korean, the word ‘future’ is made up of two parts,” he explains, proposing a sort of riddle about how far the band has come and how far it might yet go. “The first part means ‘not,’ and the second means ‘to come.’ In that sense, ‘future’ means something that will not come. This is to say: The future is now, and our now is us living our future.”

Source

[comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog]

Eric Cartman

Name/Alias: Mae

Pronouns: Any

Age: 22

Join Our Discord: Sure, i'll send you it if I get accepted

Timezone: EST

Activity: Since this is a tumblr-based group, i'd like to say 6 (which is a good thing, I do better on tumblr ogfmohmgfh)

Triggers: None

Password: jimmy can fast pass my ass and i would thank him for it 

Character that you’re applying for: Eric Cartman

Favourite ships for your character:

I ship Eric with basically everyone that wants to. I like Heiman, Kyman, Cutters, and Clydeman the most. 

Full name: Eric Theodore Cartman 

Birthday: July 1rst.

Sexuality, gender, pronouns: Cis male, he/him, bisexual in the closet. 

Age and grade: Senior year, 18.

Face claim: I don't really enjoy using faceclaims! I do love using this artist's portrayal, though. I think y'all said it isn't mandatory, but tell me if I need one! I don't mind!

Personality: 

There are so, so many walls with Eric's personality. He is whatever he thinks is best for the situation—be it soft-spoken, the victim, a hero, or someone unconditionally ruthless. And it should be obvious that, even in his teenage years, that the brunet has plenty of demons inside him. Ones that push him away from reality, from the truth; Eric Cartman void and neglectful of any unfavorable image people have of him.

Because in reality, Eric is nothing more than a pathetic kid who can't help themselves to feel deserving of good things. He loves himself to where the idea of where being alone in this world is his perfect utopia, however, is his own logical fallacy considering attention and praise fuels the core of his being. 

History: 

Eric's childhood is the main focal point on why he is what he is today. Raised by a promiscuous Mother and an absent Father, both his parent and the rest of his family utterly cherished and spoiled Eric. And while he should've learned how to be grateful and respectful to the people in his life, instead he learned the opposite; uncensored hateful views and that sense of self-entitlement being taught to him at an early age. 

In which, only deteriorated once he grew older. As years went by, Eric lost most grasp of common human empathy, seeing the world gravitating around him and no one else—blissfully unaware of how his ego controlled him. And even with the first girl, he found genuine love in, Eric will always be his number one enemy with finding happiness. The things his Mother made him do, the things older people have done to his mindset has stuck to him like glue, that doubt that comes with opening yourself to someone else.

This also heavily emphasizes Eric's middle and high school years. Though his crazy antics severely decreased once people got older, what made Eric Cartman, Eric Cartman remained. He still refuses to put any effort in his school work (unless it's a "topic" that interests him), he hides behind video games and bluffs that no one else believes aside from him and is inflamed by the power trips people like Kyle give. Perhaps that is because, at the bottom of his heart, Eric knows he is nothing more than a kid surrounded by crack-addicted family members with terrible blood pressure levels. Who will do nothing but sit his lazy ass down eating chips and ignoring his problems, while everyone plans for college, and his Mother advises him to look at community ones around his area. 

But of course, it's not like Eric gives a shit enough to fight his thoughts, no. He need not bend to what other people tell him, to the success his peers gloat fucking so much about, to the state of struggle he is currently in.

Eric Cartman does whatever he wants. 

And he'll make it to the top, in his own way, like he always does. 

Headcanons: 

N/A. Will 100% add them in time during the in-depth application process. 

I do have a long one about just his perspective on love/Heidi here. 

Anything else: Nope! I do emphasize on Eric's thoughts at the end of the My Future Self N' Me episode. I am lazy, so I hope this is good enough, I promise i'm... Better :tm: 

jimmy can fast pass my ass"