#that said - this outfit just tells you more straightforwardly on what his personality is like

[mochidreambubble]

Scarlet Hollow cousin mc

Ashe Scarlet

(Full name Ashelia, but he doesn't like using his full name)

Ashe and his questionable eccentric fashion choices ✨

(comm art by 'duckbrows' on twitter, who does fashion/outfit comms. 10000/100 fully recommend to order comm art from)

Traits:

More information below~

his taste in clothes is based off this:

Age: 20’s, one year younger than Tabitha

Pronouns: He/Him

City: Toronto, Canada  (But did you know I debated putting it as Salem, Massachusetts)

[Toronto cause it has the highest population count for Asians]

Occupation: Music Streamer 

Star Sign: Gemini

Likes: Mystery novels, Concerts and Recitals, Tarot Reading

Dislikes: Dishonest people, Unjust circumstances, Blood and Gore (bout to have a bad time this week)

Enjoys music regardless of genre as he believes each has its own appeal; also refers to it as a window into the musician’s soul 

His love language is giving outfits or accessories based on his interpretation of their personality. However, if it’s more serious, he likes to be physically close with them and sing/hum to them.

Plays the guitar and the Novation Launchpad, with an entire  childhood worth of experience playing piano

He prefers to be more direct and honest in most circumstances as he wants people to truly know him beyond his appearance 

His main regret is thirst baiting his audience when he started out music streaming as people now stay for his looks rather than his music

[kinetic-elaboration]

August 5: 3x02 The Enterprise Incident

After several weeks of being in like a TOS desert (Assignment: Earth; Spock’s Brain) finally we get to The Enterprise Incident, one of the best episodes, possibly of all time. Why was D.C. Fontana so good??? How??

McCoy narration! How unusual. I like how it contributes to the generally jarring opening, with Kirk acting so out of character and so on. All of the crew being fooled and the audience too.

I’d say this scene is the only one Kirk haters have ever seen--where he’s all arrogant and impatient and mean--but he’s not being slutty enough.

When you need intel, you go to Uhura.

This is an interesting ep because the Enterprise is being uncharacteristically sneaky. Usually, they’re obviously doing the right thing in the straightforwardly right way, but this really is an espionage mission, which includes, in addition to the garden variety lying, major stuff like uh treaty breaking.

Wow, a Romulan with a name. Unusual. Is he the first named Romulan?

They want the Enterprise. They want his lady!

Hmmm, you have a Vulcan on board, do you? Very interested in that. It’s pretty funny that the Commander calls up as soon as Tal mentions Spock,like she has a sixth sense that picked up on a potential hottie on the enemy ship.

Oh no, Kirk and Spock aren’t getting along. Trouble in paradise...

Spock looks very disapproving. And Kirk is acting downright despotic. Hot.

Imagine being the Romulan hostages lol. That’s awkward. “Go their ship and uh sit in their brig, nbd, we’ll bring you back.” (And then later one of them is unceremoniously stripped naked.) (And then later still they’re completely forgotten about!!!)

Scotty’s face when he sees the hostages is very funny. Like “oh I know what to do with YOU.”

I love the Female Romulan Commander already.

Wow Kirk is such a liar. Just say it loudly enough and it will SEEM true. Navigation error etc.

“It’s no myth that Vulcans can’t lie,” Spock lied.

“It’s not a lie to keep the truth to oneself.” Feel like I gotta outright steal that.

Oooh, the Commander has a temper.

Kirk is “a highly sensitive and emotional person.”

He’s living for the drama.

This must be all very confusing for the crew.

I love Captain Scotty. He’s so intense.

“You make a brave noise.” Burn.

Spock’s been an officer for 18 years. I’d do the math on that but I’m not sure when one becomes an officer specifically.

“Do you like Captain Kirk?” (I don’t even remember why I wrote this down, but uh, yeah.)

...Damn this whole scene is so good.

“I don’t make house calls.”

Except for Kirk.

It’s bizarre that the Romulans are in Klingon ships (that look like Federation ships on the inside) for pretty much no reason but I do like the design of them in general.

Funny how “Attend me” sounds an awful lot like “My wife, attend.”

Lol at the crocheted board shorts on the male Romulan officers. The Commander is MUCH more stylish.

“Are the guards invited on our date?”

“It would be illogical to assume that all conditions remain stable.” What a F L I R T.

Very bold of her to basically declare “Spock, you’re Captain now.”

Kirk looks like the drunk friend, swaying in the background, gearing up to something.

“Vulcan death grip” lol. Sounds like made up Vulcan nonsense to me! (And it is.)

Even if it weren’t, Spock is an adult Vulcan and a trained Starfleet officer, he would never just accidentally death grip someone.

And now it all comes out. Because Chapel was nosy. Love that she just casually knows all this stuff about Vulcan abilities.

They told Bones pretty late about this whole plan. I feel like Scotty and Bones should have been in the original loop.

“You’re lucky they didn’t start an autopsy.”

Love that part of Kirk’s transformation into a Romulan was putting on eye shadow.

Also love Scotty’s face journey when he sees Romulan!Kirk.

Look at these decadent Commander’s quarters. Spock must love them.

Recruiting inducements lol--is that what the kids are calling it these days?

“Don’t beam me into a bulkhead.” Don’t even joke.

Spock hasn’t sent the coordinates because he’s DISTRACTED while on his DATE.

I love their little square drinking glasses.

“I do... appreciate it.”

“If you don’t tell me your name, I’ll have to make one up for you.”

TOS Spock apparently more smooth than AOS Kirk.

When she stood up, that mini-skirt basically became a shirt--barely.

His lady leaves the room and he immediately call his man--what a slut.

The Commander’s “casual” outfit is easily one of the best TOS costumes. So pretty! 10/10 would wear today.

“Stimulate...our discussion.” Sure. Your discussion.

He’s been moved emotionally.

Dammit Tal! Stop cockblocking the commander.

Love how obvious it was that she and Spock were hooking up--she's dressed up, he appears dramatically from behind the flowing white curtains in her frankly huge quarters.

The cloaking device looks suspiciously like Nomad again.

“How could you do this to me?” Girl, you’ve known him for an hour. Calm down the drama.

Also love the earrings.

That was a weak slap. She should have sent him sprawling with her Romulan strength. I guess her heart wasn’t in it.

Romulans are Vulcans but with unfiltered Drama.

I like her jellyfish chair.

Now Spock shall fillibuster his own death by reading a very long prepared statement.

She hears the phrase "historic tradition" and sighs like "this is gonna be the longest 20 minutes of my LIFE.”

Silly of Kirk to assume they wouldn't fire on the commander and/or that she wouldn't ORDER them to fire.

“Alien contraption.” Scotty enjoying himself.

Hmmm, the Commander was bragging to Spock off screen about the cloaking device--what else might she have said that we didn’t hear?

Mr. Spock will escort you to your quarters--more like Mr. Spock will escort you to HIS quarters amirite?

She would like his weaponry.

“Military secrets are the most fleeting of all.” Well that line didn’t have to go that hard.

“It was the only choice. You would not respect any other.” Where’s all the talk about loyalty and oaths now?

“They do not look aesthetically agreeable on humans.” Textual evidence for my theory that Vulcans, though humanoid, have some sort of indescribable Alien Aura quite apart from the eyebrows and ears.

That was such a good ending. Last major dialogue scene was a serious one between Spock and the Commander, but then there’s a little humorous coda, too--a good shot of Spock looking pensive, but also the peanut gallery having a little laugh.

I love that episode so much. I love how... difficult Spock is to read. On the one hand, I do think he was really attracted to the Romulan Commander. I also think he was hiding a lot of the truth about why he didn’t join the Romulans--I mean yes, that was never a real option and it would certainly be wildly out of character for him to do it. But he also talks exclusively about loyalty to Starfleet, his oath, his uniform, as if but for the happenstance of these things, if he were making a decision for himself instead of following his duty, he might prefer to be with her and the Romulans. But what about the obvious other factor--Kirk himself? What about “A starship runs on loyalty to one man, and no one can replace it--or him?” I feel like his connection to Kirk is like the unspoken undertone to all of this. Especially because, as Captain and XO, they were the only ones to know about this plan from the beginning, and probably came up with the details of it themselves. But we also know that Spock takes the mean things that Kirk says to heart, even if they’re only said as part of a mission or larger ploy. And we also know that he truly desires belonging, and that being part one thing and part another often makes him feel as if he belonged nowhere. But the Romulan Commander didn’t seem to care about his human heritage. She asked him what he was, and only mentioned the human part one other time, not in a negative way. I do see the temptation for him.

It’s also interesting that Kirk initially refers to the Commander as “he,” implying he didn’t know specifically who was in charge of the ship. That means that while he and Spock clearly planned for Spock to undermine and then “kill” Kirk, and almost certainly to play on Romulan/Vulcan cultural connections, they probably did not plan on Spock seducing anyone. He did that on his own.

This would reboot so well. Like, aside from the S/U aspects, it’s a perfect candidate: a spy narrative that has a little bit of the gray morality they’re so attached to; Kirk and Spock tension; Kirk being Dramatique; cool aliens--and it would have been very interesting to see this story play out in the context of the destruction of Vulcan. (More generally, I think completely forgetting about the Romulans after the first reboot film was a huge mistake but whatever.)

Mmmm, I just... I want to watch it again lol. D.C. Fontana was truly the queen of alien world building. That sense of alien-ness that I get in the Spock and Commander scenes is like what I’m going for in some of my own stuff.

[shiningmoonjunnie]

confession. | wen junhui

pairing - shy!wen junhui x reader warnings - none genre - fanfiction, romance

~

a day in which lovers confess feelings and couples are walking about everywhere. it was valentines day! 

wen junhui, your very close friend had asked to meet up at a park at 5pm. junhui was not that so sure of even arranging a day for you two only because usually he’d bring his friend along so things don’t get too awkward but he decided to push out of his comfort zone to spend a day with you. he is an introverted, shy guy. but as your friendship with him began to grow even more, he got comfortable and would just talk about anything. it could be a favourite animal, cafe, or style of living.

today, he said he’ll bring you somewhere very special today. you weren’t sure what he was planning but deep down you knew it’d be somewhere fun. somewhere the two of you could spend time together happily.

as you neared the park, you saw junhui patiently waiting for you just swinging on one of the swings. he was wearing a dark beige, dark blue and red turtleneck which compliments his white pants perfectly and black converse shoes. the outfit looks cute on him. you thought as you approached him with a warm smile. “hey jun.” you sat on the swing next to his.

“you finally made it!” junhui replied, “are you warm wearing that? i heard it would rain soon so i brought an umbrella.. it can get really cold.” he pointed to the umbrella next to the pole of the swing. there was also a bag which probably had essential items in there.

“what do you think?” you said. your outfit was also a bit similar to junhui’s, but the turtleneck colour was different and instead had just one colour, grey.

“i-i’m just making sure you’re safe, you know..? sorry.” junhui apologised.

“you’re so overprotective. it’s cute of you.” you squished his cheeks as an obvious blush crept up his face. “let’s go. you said you’ll bring us somewhere fun?”

“oh right, follow along.” junhui said. a strong, cold breeze blew around. then, he started to shiver a bit. “it’s cold all of a sudden.”

aw, poor jun. he’s cold. i’ll hold his hand. you connected hands with his and also got the umbrella on the way to the destination. “are you warm now?”

“mhm.” jun nodded. another blush crept up his cheeks.

“A THEME PARK?!” your eyes widened in happiness as you hugged junhui tightly.

“y-yes. i have planned this for a long time now. i have been hoping to come here with you.” junhui replied nervously.

“you’re literally the best. what ride do you want to go on first?”

“y-you choose.”

“no, you.”

that went on again and again. eventually, after a game of rock, paper, scissors, you had to pick a ride. “how about the merry-go-round?”

“i’ve always wanted to go on one. let’s go.” junhui straightforwardly dragged you to the merry-go-round. you two got on a horse not too far from each other. the ride then started to move. lively and glorious music started playing. “woohoo! this is fun!” you said loudly so junhui could hear you.

“it definitely is.”

“hey, pose for the picture!” you got your camera out from your pocket and posed to take a picture of you and junhui together. junhui smiled slightly and did the finger heart pose. you took a few more photos together making silly poses.

after the ride had its interval, you and junhui got off to another ride. the ferris wheel. it was basically the most romantic ride at the theme park. junhui was planning to confess to you in there. the line at the ferris wheel wasn’t too long luckily, and you managed to get on the carriage.

the ferris wheel began to move up high slowly. that meant junhui could take his time to confess. “y/n?” junhui grabbed your attention as you stopped looking at the view outside.

“what is it?”

junhui paused a bit before managing to say, “uhm.. y/n, you know.. i.. i..” junhui tried his best to get his words out.

“just tell me.”

junhui couldn’t say it in person. 

he leaned in closer to your face and his face was just inches to kissing you. you could hear his heart beat rapidly and his heavy breath. he kissed your soft, plump lips. you were surprised at first, but you responded as you wrapped your arms on his back comfortably. the kiss was only a few seconds, until air was needed for both of you. 

“i like you.” junhui confessed. “i really like you.”

“i’m sorry but...” you decided to tease junhui. he looked a bit upset and looked down as his fists were clenching tightly. you pulled junhui into another kiss. now it was his turn to be surprised. “i like you too, jun.” you mumbled through the kiss.

after a few moments, outside the carriage, you heard a drop of rain on the window. it was now raining. you two stopped kissing to see the rain dropping. “see, i told you it’d rain.” junhui smiled. it was the first time you saw him smile this brightly after a long time. “i-i smile everyday because of you.”

the ferris wheel ride had ended and the two of you was walking home in the calming rain. junhui was holding the umbrella. there was an awkward silence before you said, “thank you for today. i had the best day ever.”

“i should be thanking you for coming today. if not, then..” junhui said as you waited for his response.

“..then?”

“h-how about a shopping date tomorrow?” junhui changed the subject to avoid awkwardness.

“sounds good, junnie.” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. 

soon, the two of you arrived at your house. “meet me at 12pm tomorrow at the same park.” junhui suggested.

“alright. bye-bye.” you were about to open the door but junhui pulled you back. 

“y-you forgot something.”

hm? what have i forgotten? you wondered what you forgotten. junhui gave you a short kiss on the lips. then, he secretly put a doraemon plushie he had in his bag on your hands.

“bye, y/n. i love you.” junhui walked off.

you opened your hand and saw the adorable doraemon plushie. i love this guy so much...

the end~~

a/n - after finishing ‘put your head on my shoulder’ drama series at exactly 1:37am this morning, i got too inspired to type out a fanfiction. that’s why the ending had doraemon hehe. sorry if this is too cringe, i’m definitely no script or love expert. please make sure to like and follow if you want more content! (only if you want to tho, i’m not forcing you.)

[this-is-a-love-story-fleabag]

The radiance of the future

Fleabag/Priest but somehow also Grantaire/Enjolras from Les Miserables. 2180 words. Also available on ao3.

Enjolras believed in the revolution. Enjolras believed in the revolution so fervently that it was almost always the sole focus of his mind. His lot was not to love single human beings, but to love the Republic, to the exclusion of all else. He was a priest of the ideal.

So when Grantaire disappeared to an alleyway out the back of the café to indulge in an unladylike cigarette, Enjolras wasn't quite sure why he followed her.

In my recent Fleabag fic, Love is awful, I left a cryptic crossword clue in the final chapter: "Disheartening vulnerable scrapes for hunted redhead?" 6 letters, ends in an S.

The first person to divine the answer was standalone, who in addition to being a whiz at the cryptic writes wonderful Les Miserables Enjolras/Grantaire fanfiction, which I highly recommend you check out.

It occurred to me on reading that the story of Enjolras the devout believer and Grantaire the skeptical cynic had some wonderful parallels to Fleabag, so here is an unholy cross-over franken-fic that nobody asked for.

And of course, the answer was Vulpes.

Nobody was entirely certain why she had chosen Café Musain as her preferred drinking spot. The student wing of Friends of the ABC swarmed the place on most days, talking in impassioned terms about the Revolution, about the rights of man, and the stirring of the French proletariat, with all the zeal of true believers.

R. Grantaire was a woman who took good care not to believe in anything.

She could generally be found propped up by a table in the back room, engaging in the kind of cynical rants that brought all listeners to abject, personal misery. She rallied against human nature, against change, against the very notion of faith itself.

It must be exhausting, Enjolras thought, to maintain that level of ironic detachment for one's entire life.

Enjolras believed in the revolution. Enjolras believed in the revolution so fervently that it was almost always the sole focus of his mind. His lot was not to love single human beings, but to love the Republic, to the exclusion of all else. He was a priest of the ideal.

So when Grantaire disappeared to an alleyway out the back of the café to indulge in an unladylike cigarette, Enjolras wasn't quite sure why he followed her.

 ---

Smoke curled in the cold air from the cigarette between her fingers. She was drunk, presumably, but her eyes maintained her usual sparkle of wit, and she straightened when he approached, regarding him with great interest.

The worst thing about Grantaire, he thought, was her intelligence. If she had simply chosen to commit to something, to anything, she could have set the world alight with her razor-sharp mind, but instead she was committed only to her own pleasure. Her talent for polemic, if directed to worthy goals, could rouse armies and launch ships, and instead she spent her days making barmaids feel mildly uncomfortable. Everything about her character offended his principles.

Nonetheless, every conversation with her, every touch, ignited a fire in him that rivalled his devotion to the cause. It was a problem.

She cocked her head to one side, studying him.

"His beautiful neck," he heard her murmur, as though to herself. "What fine marble." She fished out a spare cigarette and a box of matches from her bodice, and handed them to him.

"I think you upset Louison," he began, trying his best to ignore the brush of their fingers over the matchbox. "What was the topic today?"

"The various different kinds of urchins and the things we call them instead." She gestured expansively with her cigarette. "Dish-washer, baker's boy, dauphin. All urchins at base."

"She didn't enjoy being called an urchin?"

"We're all urchins, Enjolras," she said, fixing him with an intense look, and running her hand lightly up his arm. "You know that as well as anyone."

"Such insight wasted to such a base purpose," he lamented. "Why would you believe in something awful, when you could believe in something wonderful? Your efforts would be best put to the good of your fellow man. Where will you be when the barricades are built?"

"I prefer a breakfast to a hearse," she told him, as though he were an idiot. "You waste your efforts planning your utopia."

"What's utopia today is flesh and blood tomorrow."

"You've flesh and blood today," she purred, gripping his arm and pressing the length of her body against his, "and what good is it doing you?"

"We're not going to have sex," he said, for the umpteenth time. "It won't bring anything good."

She took a final drag on her cigarette and dropped the butt onto the floor, grinding it disdainfully with the heel of her boot. "Fuck you, then," she said with a smile, and headed back inside.

---

Enjolras was as cold as ice and as bold as fire - sober, earnest, and devastating. After a life of disappointments and disillusions, he was the only thing she straightforwardly believed in - a shining beacon of light in a dirty world full of falsehoods.

Each day, Grantaire filled her mind with twilight in the form of beer, wine, absinthe, and the wilful detachment from ever really meaning anything she said. She entertained herself by making pronouncements and haranguing the hapless mortals who surrounded her, wiling away the hours until her angel would reappear, his eyes unerringly finding hers from across the room.

On this particular afternoon, he had stridden into the hall in a fluster and was entreating each of his comrades to help him with a mission of whipping up the flames of revolt in a recalcitrant group of journeymen a few streets over. His face was flushed in his passion, the urgent need to advance the aims of the revolution thrumming through the sinews of his body. Grantaire, earthbound in doubt, loved to watch Enjolras soaring in the upper air of faith.

"Grantaire," he said, rounding on her after exhausting every other option. "I don't imagine you could put aside your cynicism for a moment to lend a hand? For once, could you spare some effort for a dream, or are you totally useless?"

"I am a daring drinker of dreams," she pronounced, captivated by his attention. "I'm not totally useless." She took a long sip and considered her position. "I can be used as a bad example."

"Are you capable of being good for something?" The frustrated disappointment in his voice was almost painful to hear.

"I have the vague ambition to be," she sniffed.

"You don’t believe in anything."

She raised her chin to look at him, firm in her one conviction. "I believe in you."

A quick outfit change later, she stormed back through the café and stalked up to Enjolras, who was alone in the back alley. Her dress was the brightest crimson, short and airy and captivating.

"Red, she whispered in his ear, pressing against him and leaning close. "The blood red of Robespierre."

"Be serious," he said, stiffening.

She chuckled. "I'm wild," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. He shuddered, despite himself, and drew his hands reverently over her hips.

He turned away from her, once, twice, then changed his mind and pushed her up against the wall, kissing her frantically, pouring himself into her. She pressed herself against him, her soft body insinuating itself against every inch of his. Her lips were hot and insistent against his, a prayer to her own personal deity.

"I don't know what this feeling is," he murmured.

She brushed a hand through his hair and kissed him, once, on the forehead. "Be easy," she whispered, "buck up, smile, charm, off we go. We'll be okay." She walked off, smiling fondly, to fan the flames of rebellion amongst the idle proletariat.

When he came to check on her, and found her not fanning any flames at all, but rather engaged in a raucous game of dominos, she turned away to avoid the disappointment in his eyes.

The next time they saw each other, Grantaire was mid-flow in one of her diatribes. "Hair is everything!" she cried, waving a bottle around for emphasis. "We wish it wasn’t so we could actually think about something else occasionally. But it is. It's the difference between a good day and a bad day."

Enjolras simply rolled his eyes and left the room.

Snubbed, spurned, rebuffed and back again for more, Grantaire was holding court in her customary corner.

"Life is a hideous invention," she said. Nobody was listening. "A hideous invention by somebody I don't know. It doesn't last, and it's good for nothing. You break your neck simply living."

Enjolras was away, fighting the good fight - not that they were on speaking terms anyway - and her life without her North Star was rudderless, empty. She took a long pull from her drink. "I just want someone to tell me how to live my life," she mumbled, "because so far I think I've been getting it wrong."

"I just want to cry," she burst out. "I just want to cry, all the time. You all feel like this a little bit!" she accused. "You're just not talking about it."

She contemplated her glass listlessly. "Either that, or I'm the only one." Another gulp of absinthe. "This is beyond a joke."

As the sweet blanket of drunkenness drew itself over her, Grantaire pillowed her face on her arms on the sticky, forlorn table, and let sleep overcome her.

"If he had come for me," she said sadly, before she drifted away, "I would have followed him."

---

The resistance were regrouping in the café when Enjolras noticed Grantaire slumped back in the corner, dead drunk.

He roused her from her sleep. "Go, this isn't the place for you."

She recoiled as though he'd slapped her.

"I mean that with the greatest of compliments," he reassured her. "Leave revolt to the believers."

"Let me sleep here," she entreated with indescribable gentleness. "Let me sleep here, until I die."

"Grantaire," he reproved, looking into her tender and troubled eyes, "you are incapable of believing, of thinking, of willing, of living, and of dying."

She smiled to herself, a secret smile. "You will see."

---

"Down with your heads, hug the wall!" shouted Enjolras, as a staccato burst of gunfire sounded. "Kneel, just kneel, along the barricade!"

He was wreathed in the morning light, candid and grave as he addressed his comrades. "The whole army of Paris is to strike," he informed them, "and the populace is not stirring. You are abandoned."

He paused, ready to let them flee, to save themselves.

From the obscurest depths of the group, a woman's voice, strong and unwavering, offered the decisive word.

"So be it!" she declared. "Let us offer the protests of corpses. Let us show that, if the people abandon the republicans, the republicans do not abandon the people."

There was a general noise of assent, and the decision was made. The anonymous speaker vanished into the shadows after having represented for a minute, in a lightning flash, the people and God.

---

Enjolras was standing on the crest of the barricade, his hair dishevelled and his beautiful, austere face raised to speak.

"Citizens," he began, his voice holding the gravity of a sermon and the thrill of a hymn. "This barricade is made neither of paving stones, nor of timbers, nor of iron; it is made of two mounds, a mound of ideas and a mound of sorrows. Here misery encounters the ideal. Here the day embraces the night, and says: I will die with you and you will be born again with me.

"Whatever happens to-day, through our defeat as well as through our victory, it is a revolution that we are about to create. As conflagrations light up a whole city, so revolutions illuminate the whole human race. We are advancing to the union of peoples; we are advancing to the unity of man. No more fictions; no more parasites. The real governed by the true, that is the goal.

"Oh! the human race will be delivered, raised up, consoled! We affirm it on this barrier. From the heights of our sacrifice will come this cry of love! We are born with love, and in life we must choose the right place to put it. It is awful, this love! A painful, frightening hell! But we do not go through it alone. Love is not something that weak people do, and in our unity there is the strength to know what's right.

"He who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn."

---

When the soldiers stormed the café, they found only Enjolras still standing, the rest having escaped or been killed. All, that is, except for Grantaire, who was not standing but rather slumped over her table, still unconscious, unnoticed by all.

Enjolras' head was held high as he regarded the soldiers with haughty grace, and they hesitated on seeing his radiant beauty, his bravery, the pure and unwavering light of his faith.

He turned to them, chin raised, defiant and bold to the last. "Shoot me," he said with confidence.

There was a moment of silence, sudden and oppressive after the noise of the fight, and it was this which finally woke Grantaire.

She surveyed the scene in front of her, a fire in her eyes, and made a quick decision, as easily as breathing. Striding to Enjolras, she grasped his hand. He started, then smiled and pressed her hand tightly.

"Long live the Republic!" she cried, unafraid and brilliant in her new faith.

Grantaire turned to him. "I fucking love you," she said with conviction.

He regarded her with wide eyes, as though seeing her for the first time. "I love you too," he said, holding her gaze. They shared a moment, quiet and long overdue.

Then, as he held his ragged red flag aloft, they turned to the guns, ready to play their part.

The lovers died hand in hand, in the radiance of the future, and entered a tomb all flooded with the dawn.

[thisdaynews]

FBI Releases Incriminating Chat Between Hushpuppi and Abba Kyari

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/fbi-releases-incriminating-chat-between-hushpuppi-and-abba-kyari/

FBI Releases Incriminating Chat Between Hushpuppi and Abba Kyari

A US Court archive has nitty gritty discussions between Nigeria’s observed Deputy Commissioner of Police, Abba Kyari, and scandalous suspected fraudster, Ramon Olorunwa Abbas, assumed name Hushpuppi in regards to pay off and capture of another suspected fraudster.

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Hushpuppi, who as of late conceded in the United States, had described how he paid off Kyari.

Authorities said in court filings that Hushpuppi uncovered during cross examination that he offered incentives to Nigeria’s police boss, Kyari, to have one of his adversaries captured and imprisoned in Nigeria following a disagreement regarding a $1.1 million trick of a Qatari financial specialist.

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Abbas had requested that Kyari capture and prison an individual fraudster Kelly Chibuzor Vincent after both were secured a debate apparently over how to share the $1.1 million plunder got from the Qatari financial specialist.

Vincent consequently reached the person in question and educated them that they were being defrauded by an organization including him and Abbas.

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This inspired annoyance from Abbas (Hushpuppi), who reached Kyari to capture and prison his opponent over the debate. Abbas (Hushpuppi) said Kyari sent pictures of Vincent in prison and accordingly sent a ledger number to him (Hushpuppi) to which a wire move ought to be made having worked really hard as sent by Abbas (Hushpuppi).

9 Hours Ago

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In any case, Kyari had taken to his Facebook page to respond to the charge, guaranteeing he just helped Hushpuppi to get local garments and covers worth N300,000.

In spite of the fact that he confessed to capturing Vincent, he said it was after Hushpuppi claimed that Vincent was undermining his family here in Nigeria.

Kyari denied thinking about the connection among Hushpuppi and Vincent at the underlying stage and later found Vincent and Hushpuppi had a misconception over the said measure of cash.

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He likewise said he never requested any cash from Abbas (Hushpuppi), adding that they (Kyari and his group) were centered around saving individuals who were being compromised.

However, the court record demonstrates something else, showing plainly that Kyari’s cases were lies.

As indicated by the record, after a previous conversation with Kyari, Hushpuppi mentioned for Vincent’s (otherwise called Chibuzor) contact subtleties, which the last gave.

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Hushpuppi sent the contact subtleties to Kyari and on January 15, 2020, Hushpuppi sent a sound chronicle to Kyari through WhatsApp, expressing that he needed to remind Kyari about what they examined before.

On January 16, 2020, Hushpuppi sent the accompanying dangers to Chibuzor: “I dey consistently advise individuals to think a long time before they irritate me and make them ensure they fit stand the results when the opportunity arrives. I will not say more than that yet very soon, incredibly, soon, the fierceness of my hands will discover you and when it does, it will harm you until the end of time. Now I no get conversation with you, you have perpetrated a wrongdoing that will not be pardoned, that is culpable and you will get pass on (sic) discipline in due time. I swear with my life, you will lament playing with me, you will even wish you passed on before my hands will contact you.”

Later on, Kyari affirmed the capture and confinement of Vincent Chibuzor to Abbas (Hushpuppi), who mentioned for a record number to which he will send the pay off implied for Kyari’s colleagues.

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Hushpuppi additionally begged Kyari to advise his colleagues to manage Vincent like an outfitted looter.

The record of their discussion goes consequently:

To begin with, Kyari made an impression on Hushpuppi saying, “We would pick him today or tomorrow.”

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Abbas (Hushpuppi) stated, “I will deal with the group additionally after they get him.”

Kyari affirmed “Yes ooo.”

It likewise expressed that on January 20, 2020, Kyari sent personal, recognizing data for Chibuzor to Hushpuppi.

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Their discussion goes in this manner: Abbas (Hushpuppi) affirmed “that is him sir.”

Kyari expressed, “We have captured the person . . . He is in my cell now. This is his image after we captured him today.”

In the wake of getting the photo of Vincent/Chibuzor, Abbas (Hushpuppi) said, “I need him to carry on with genuine beating of his life.”

In light of Kyari’s inquiry regarding how Chibuzor had dealt with Abbas (Hushpuppi), Abbas sent Kyari a sound message.

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He said: “What he did is, I have one work. The work need to pay me 500, umm, 75,000 dollars [i.e., $575,000]. He went to message the work behind me since I advised him to help me make one report for me to give the work. Then, at that point he went—he has a—I gave him the subtleties.

“Then, at that point he went to message the work despite my good faith and attempt to redirect the cash and in this interaction he tell the work on account of the archives he gave me that I gave the work, he tell the work, ‘These report they shipped off you previously. These individuals are phony (sic).

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“‘This cash—is me who can assist you with getting it. Come to me le—bring this cash you need to pay these individuals to me. I’m the one in particular who can help you,’ and this load of things to redirect the work for himself.”

In the wake of paying attention to the message, Kyari essentially said he comprehended without mentioning other data or proof identifying with Chibuzor’s part in the plan, or any inquiries regarding the idea of the exchange, the record added.

Hushpuppi further said he needed to pay cash to send Chibuzor to imprison for quite a while, expressing “Please sir I need to go through cash to send this kid to prison, let him go for seemingly forever.”

Kyari reacted, “Alright brother, I comprehend I will examine with my group who captured him . . . Also, dealing with the case. We will take care of business.”

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Hushpuppi reacted, “Let me know how I can send cash to the group sir, let them manage him like furnished burglar.”

Kyari reacted, “Alright I will send their record subtleties to u.”

Hushpuppi further stated, “He deceived me and attempt (sic) to take food out my mouth, this is incredible culpable sin,” and Kyari reacted, “Better believe it brother.”

Hushpuppi said, “I need him to languish over numerous years.”

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Kyari reacted, “Hahahaha.”

The record expressed that about certain minutes after the fact, Kyari gave the record data to a financial balance at a Nigerian bank, Zenith Bank, for the sake of an individual other than Kyari himself.

Hushpuppi reacted “Alright sir, tomorrow by early afternoon.”

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This showed that Hushpuppi intended to pay the Nigeria Police Force officials who captured Chibuzor for that help.

A piece of the report expressed, “This was not by any means the only time that Abbas masterminded installments with Kyari. On May 20, 2020, Abbas sent Kyari exchange receipts for two exchanges from accounts at Nigerian banks (GTBank and Zenith Bank) of an individual Abbas knew in the U.A.E.— an individual additionally captured with Abbas in Abbas’ loft in the U.A.E. by Dubai Police on June 9, 2020—to the Nigerian ledgers of someone else in Nigeria.

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“The sums on the exchange receipts totalled 8 million Nigerian Naira, which was around $20,600 dependent on openly accessible swapping scale data.”

The following is the full proof.

Detailed discussion among Hushpuppi and DCP Abba Kyari#

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Subsequent to Consulting with JUMA, ABBAS Arranged to Have KYARI Imprison CHIBUZO in Nigeria in Retaliation for, and to Prevent Him from, Trying to Coopt the Victim

Finance manager

As examined in passage 120, JUMA and ABBAS had a spat with many chibuzo felt that he was being come up short on (or had not been

paid) for work on the phony Wells Fargo site, and afterward reached the Victim Businessperson straightforwardly. ABBAS then, at that point orchestrated to have KYARI capture and detain CHIBUZO in Nigeria for endeavoring to divert deceitful returns

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proposed for ABBAS and JUMA to himself, to hold CHIBUZO back from meddling with the plan. This segment examines those occasions and KYARI’s contribution in the trick.

On January 13, 2020, the Victim Businessperson reached JUMA about a reached the individual Victim Businessperson about the advance,

expressing “This number is calling me however I didn’t reply.” The Victim

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Money manager likewise gave JUMA a screen capture of and sent extra discussions between the Victim Businessperson and CHIBUZO, who was utilizing the U.S. telephone number 3054405586. That telephone number was a similar telephone number utilized by CHIBUZO to send ABBAS data about the phony Wells

Fargo site depicted before. In the messages, CHIBUZO sent the Victim Businessperson’s visa, and professed to be “attempting to help” the Victim Businessperson.

JUMA sent these messages from the Victim Businessperson to ABBAS, who reacted, “I will manage him.” At around a similar time,

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ABBAS asked CHIBUZO for a telephone number on which to call him. After two minutes, ABBAS sent the telephone number on which he reached CHIBUZO (which

CHIBUZO had beforehand likewise shipped off ABBAS) to KYARI without giving any 52 extra setting. Not long prior to sending the telephone number to KYARI, ABBAS

set an almost five-minute call to KYARI, utilizing the telephone number portrayed in passage 136.

A brief time frame later, ABBAS told JUMA, “setting him up as of now. He will learn.” JUMA answered, “He nearly wrecked it brother,” to which ABBAS reacted “They are chipping away at it as of now.”

Roughly an hour after the fact, CHIBUZO reacted to ABBAS’

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message mentioning his telephone number by giving another telephone number. ABBAS likewise sent this number to KYARI without giving any extra setting in the message.

On January 15, 2020, this time utilizing WhatsApp, ABBAS sent an

sound chronicle to KYARI, expressing, basically, that he needed to remind KYARI about what they examined before.

On January 16, 2020, ABBAS sent the accompanying dangers to

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CHIBUZO:

*I dey consistently advise individuals to think a long time before they outrage me and make them ensure they fit stand the outcomes when the opportunity arrives. I will not say more than that yet very soon, extremely soon, the anger of my ha

[texastheband]

The Best Little Sex Bomb In Texas

Interview by Miranda Sawyer, Photography by Wayne Maser Taken from British GQ - January 2004

There are many reasons to like Sharleen Spiteri. She's broken her nose four times. She once painted a mural of Che Guevara that covered her dad's garage wall. She understands that sexiness is more than "tits and arse. Well, straightforward tits and arse, anyway". She owns the original Blondie Parallel Lines mini-dress, given to her personally by Debbie Harry. She has a voice that can sound as heartworn as Dusty Springfield, as bed-borne as Chrissie Hynde. Her favourite term of abuse is "complete fanny". And, unlike most women, she looks fab in mens clothing. Actually, she's the type of insouciant beauty that would look good in a black sack; which is lucky, as that's what she appears to be wearing. We're in J Sheekey's restaurant in Covent Garden. Sharleen's just come from Top Of The Pops, where she and her band, Texas, performed their recent single, "Carnival Girl", with Ragga MC, Kardinal Offishall. She's still wearing her telly outfit: a black all-in-one, though she's swapped her take-your-eye-out stilettos for take-your-knee-out bower boots. Her hair is blunt-cut and tickles her eyelashes. She is small, dark-eyed, full-mouthed, French-looking; sultry, like her photos, but not sulky. In fact, Sharleen doesn’t stop chatting, in her throaty Glaswegian tones, about any topic you care to bring up: films, food, fashion, stripping... There's been a suggestion that she and I, as thirtysomething bonnes viveuses, would like to spend the evening in a strip club. But the only one that Sharleen will even consider checking out is a hardcore gay men's kit-off night in a notorious East End pub.

"You'll not drag me to any of that Spearmint-Rhino-Peter-Stringfellow naff old rubbish," she roars. "We'll go to Amateur Night at the White Swan. There's £1.ooo for the best act!" She announces this to me, but also to the J Sheekey waiting staff too, who clearly know and like her. "You'd better tell me all about it," says one to her, conspiratorially. "I want size, technique, all the details..." Sharleen is good at making friends: whether stars (Madonna, Stella, Gwyneth), or us lesser mortals. She's fearless, unsnobbish company, with a lewd anecdote or two up her sack-sleeve, and, unlike many famous people, she knows how to listen. She'd have made a great hairdresser. "I was a great hairdresser!" she laughs. "My tips were wicked! And people told me everything - I got loads of scandal, stuff about wife-swapping circles. But what I was really known for was when people brought in pictures of celebrities and said, 'That's the way I want my hair'. I'd put my hand over the celebrity's face and say, 'Is that really what you want? Cos we don't do faces in here, we just do hair."' She tells it like it is, does Shar. Ask her whether Texas is a democracy, and she says: "No way. Texas is me and Johnny (McElhone). The band formed around that, we write the songs together and the rest of the band either gets that or gets out. And they're totally fine with me getting all the attention. They're happy getting the money and none of the grief." The tuneful pop-rock band that is Texas formed in Glasgow in 1986, when 18-year-old Sharleen, a hairdresser and art student, met Johnny McElhone. Johnny, then 23, had played bass in Altered Images (he joined when he was just 15: his parents had to sign his contract for him), and later, in Hipsway. On a whim he asked Sharleen if she wanted to sing for a new band he was putting together. The audition was arranged, "but I never turned up", says Shar. "I thought he was sleazing me." Luckily, Johnny, who wasn't, called again. This time Sharleen went along, sang Culture Club's "Do You Really Want To Hurt Me", and Texas were formed. The first song Johnny and Sharleen wrote together was "I Don't Want A Lover". In between spoonfulls of potted shrimp, Sharleen explains that she'd never thought of herself as a singer, because every Spiteri sang. Her father's family is Italian, her mother's French, and at reunions, every family member would have to perform a song, wether they wanted to or not. "But I never got attention, because my cousins did the crowd-pleasers", she sniffs. "Never a dry eye in the house when they sang." Sharleen didn't approve of such obvious tactics, and when Texas got a record contract, she was prickly with it, insisting on always being pictured with a member of the band or with her guitar, never being interviewed separately, dressing mannishly, not smiling. Her idols were Chrissie Hynde, Patti Smith, Siouxsie Sioux. It was the late Eighties. She was Scottish. She was serious. In 1989, "I Don't Want A Lover" went Top ten in the UK, and Texas' first LP Southside, sold 1.3m copies. But the two follow-ups, Mothers Heaven and Ricks Road, didn't do so well, and around 1995, the band went into crisis mode. "We were nothing in Britain," says Sharleen, "but, because we were successful everywhere else, the record company were tiptoe-ing round us. I knew I wasnae important: I felt like screaming, 'Stop wrapping me in cotton wool!' Also, in Glasgow, everyone knew us, we were big fish in a small pond. I'd rather be a small fish in a big pond. The whole atmosphere was making me claustrophobic. So I moved to Paris." Paris proved "un tonique" for our Texan trouper. Sharleen wrote "Say What You Want" on a Paris rooftop, drinking a large glass of red wine. She met fashion journalist Ashley Heath, her partner, at a party. (They bonded over an argument about music.) Being away from home, and being able cope with that, boosted her confidence. Though you wouldn't think it now, Sharleen was "very, very, quiet" at school: not quite the ugly mate, but the one that boys approached, not to ask out, but to ask if her friend would go out with them. "The whole time I just thought, `What the fuck am I doing here?"' She left at 15: she has no contact with any former classmates. Anyway, in 1996, the Shiny! Sexy! New! Texas appeared, with Sharleen very much to the fore. For the first time, she had the self-assurance to use her languidly erotic looks. In videos, she rolled around in sea shallows, and made fully-clothed love to some lucky model. In pictures, she pulled at her hair and bit her lip. She was incredible sexy, but not straightforwardly so; what she was, was cool. It irritates Sharleen when people think that this was somehow acquired illegally: that her chic was painted on late, without serving her dues, manipulated by the boyfriend or her record company. As she points out, she found her feet first in fashion and art, and her hairdressing skills took her on shoots around the world. Sharleen does have that fashion instinct: she loves seeking out new designers and musicians, collaborating with them before they get too well-known. "But everyone gets to know about them in no time at all now!" she laughs. "You know, there is no story behind how I got cool. Of course I'm trying to be cool. Everyone is. And I always was cool: at least I thought so. Even in 1989, when I was wearing a biker jacket and jeans, trying to be more androgynous than everybody else, referencing the Clash, I thought I was dead, dead trendy. I did it myself. I didnt even have a stylist until [the band's fifth album] The Hush."

And of course, she could have done Miss Wet T-shirt until she dissolved and it wouldn't have made any difference if Texas hadn't come up with the songs. But they did: White On Blonde was a Number One, four-million-selling smash, that produced four Top Ten singles ("Say What You Want", "Halo", "Black Eyed Boy" and "Put Your Arms Around Me") and earned Sharleen and Johnny an Ivor Novello Award for Outstanding Song Collection. The band's next two LPs, The Hush (1999), and The Greatest Hits (2000), also stormed the charts. Texas have now sold 20m records worldwide. Weirdly, though, it wasn't until 2001, when the band took another break, that Sharleen truly came to mainstream attention. Over the last few years, Sharleen Spiteri has moved from being the hip bird out of Texas to becoming Heat fodder. Blame that heady contemporary combination of famous friends, and getting pregnant. Still, the interest took her by surprise. "You expect to have your photo taken if you're at a fashion show, or coming out of a posh restaurant," she says. ": when you're struggling with your shopping, looking like a whale? Cheers. Being pregnant is really the best time to be papped, you know." She's squared up to paparazzi in the past, slamming her car into reverse and almost driving into a following photographer, then getting out and ranting at him through the window. "The whole time I was having a go, he and his mate wouldn't look at me, they just looked straight ahead. The before he drove off, he said, `See that car on the other side of the road? He's following you too."' Still, she managed to avoid an embarrassing picture when, at eight months pregnant, she locked herself out of her house near Regent' Park and had to hoik herself and her bags over the iron gates: "Now, that really would have been a horrendous sight." One shot that everyone did see was of Sharleen's friend, Arsenal's Thierry Henry. On 10 September 2002, the day after Sharleen's daughter, Misty Kid, was born, Arsenal played Manchester City; Henry scored the winner and ripped off his shirt to reveal a slogan that read, "For the new born Kid". "That could have cost TT 30 grand," grins Sharpen. Luckily they decided not to fine him." "TT" often pops over for a chat. Does Sharpen ever feel weird when famous people come round? Only once," she muses, "when Debbie Harry came over, and was sitting in my kitchen eating dinner, being so nice. She was such an idol of mine when I was young. But otherwise, it's only when it freaks someone else out. I don't divide my friends into celebrities and non-celebrities, don't think like that. So they mix up in my house, and it's only when a friend phones up the next day and goes, `That was some evening!' that I think about it."

Still, I think it's important to Sharleen to be accepted by credible famous people, because she's spent so long having her band dismissed by snotty critics. Despite her own hipster kudos, despite the band's collaborations with the Wu-Tang Clan, Rae and Christian, and now Kardinal Offishall, Texas' music has often been labelled "safe", or naff". Having TT and Debbie et al onside shows that she is cool and that, allied with her immense songwriting success, means she can cheerfully say, "Sod the lot of you". The girl is fashion-conscious, she wants respect: you can't blame her. Anyhow, celebrity fact alert! Coldplay's frontman Chris Martin now lives in Sharleen's old flat: "We call it the House of Hits," she grins. And there are more of those coming: Texas' latest album, Careful What You Wish For, is Peppered with potential hits that play to the band's proven strengths: catchy, dreamy tunes, evocative guitars and Sharleen's gorgeous voice. The new single, "I'll See It Through", has all this in spades, and sounds like Dusty Springfield singing Burt Bacharach. But there are plenty of other singles there: "Telephone X", a Blondie-style stomp; "And I Dream", which recalls the exuberance of Madonna's "Ray Of Light"; the title track, a hand-clapping singalong. After 16 years in the business, it's obvious that the girl knows what she's doing. Unfortunately, after three hours at Sheekey's, I'm not sure that I do. The wine has gone down very easily, the conversation hasn't stopped. We've discussed DIY - Sharleen's great at it, especially shelves; underwear - "I am very particular about my knickers"; scars - Sharleen has five: forehead, hand, left eye, both knees; the hyperactivity of parents - her retired merchant seaman father does the lights for Texas' live show; the madness of boyfriends - Heath initially told his mum and dad that Sharpen worked in Glasgow Airport, but forgot to tell her: "I couldn't work out why his mum kept asking me about Duty Free." Misty Kid gets a few mentions: she's a climber, like her mum; stubborn, like both her parents. We spend quite some time talking about song-writing. Sharleen starts a new notebook for each Texas album and fills it with ideas and lyrics. Sometimes she only needs one, sometimes three. Careful What You Wish For was a two-notebook LP. She has no formula for writing, and she'll always sacrifice a word for a melody.

But, well, bollocks to such serious talk! It's stripper-time! Off we go in search of a place where pecs are expected and the knackers hang free. The White Swan is legendary as being the place where Michael Barrymore came out; it's an old-school gay man's pub, rather than a metrosexual bar. Its Amateur Night has gained a bit of a reputation recently, as a night of laughter and never forgetting. We pull up outside and skip to the door. There's a sign that says "Men Only Tonight", but we are undeterred; after all, Sharleen is a "dykon'' in a boiler suit, and my shoes are certainly sensible. But a big, bald man stops us at entry. "No women," he says, shortly. Sharpen argues; her female friends have been in before. No luck. We try chatting up some arriving punters, to no avail. Sharleen doesn't resort to "do you know who I am?", but you'd think they would: she played the London Astoria's self-explanatory G-A-Y a week-and-a-half ago, and was recently featured in gay magazine Boyz. She tries again. The big, bald man says bigly, baldly: "Go away." Curses! Thwarted. "Goes to show that you can be as famous as you like and it's not a passport to everywhere," shrugs Sharpen. "Shall we go back to mine? I'll get my boyfriend to strip." We do; he, thankfully, doesn't. And, chat-chat-chatting in her big comfy kitchen, the plasma screen playing MTV with the sound down, Misty's toys strewn across the floor, you understand why Sharpen attracts cool people. It's hardly sensational but, the simple facts are: Sharpen Spiteri is talented, hilarious, and the sexiest night out you can have when everyone keeps their clothes on.

[jaehyunisperfect]

scene change || pjm (f)

Being in one of BTS’s new music videos may take it’s toll on your feelings for a very shy, pink-haired boy.

❀ genre/warnings: fluff, drabble. ❀ word count: 1,9k+ ❀ request:

‘’What even is the concept of this music video?’’ Yoongi growled, looking down at the script in his hand while taking a sip from his coffee, ‘’sitting in a pile of dirty laundry? Me throwing a cake at Namjoon? What does that have to do anything with the lyrics?’’

‘’Stop complaining, hyung,’’ Namjoon simply said, seated next to him as his hair got styled, ‘’and just roll with it.’’

‘’Yeah, listen to what he’s saying,’’ you grinned, casually walking into the dressing room and picking up on the conversation. Yoongi shot you a glare, but decided it was best to give up on complaining. A last growl rolled over his lips. ‘’You better not keep up the informal talk, Y/N.’’

You stuck your tongue out and opened the little fridge, grabbing a water bottle and closing the door with your hip. Today was the day the boys had to shoot another couple of scenes for their Spring Day music video, and as a good friend of Taehyung, they asked you to be involved in the video. You were supposed to represent the friend they were missing throughout the song and so, even you got a couple of nice scenes. Not that you were really noticeable, but you were told the fans would definitely see you. Like, definitely.

You heard some laughter coming from the hallways and seconds later, Jungkook and Taehyung busted through, laughing their asses off as Taehyung held onto a small sticky note. Jungkook kneeled down and started to slap the floor while laughing, he could barely breath. Taehyung hastily handed the note over his two hyungs while nobody had looked at you yet. Minutes later, a blushing, pink-haired Jimin stepped into the room and looked very embarrassed, looking at the two youngsters before letting his eyes glide over the room and halting at your appearance.

A soft squeal left his lungs and he immediately disappeared, closing the door behind his back as the whole situation left you clueless. ‘’What’s so funny?’’ you tried to ask Taehyung, but he was leaning down on Jungkook while they were giggling and babbling weird things, and they clearly weren’t in a right state of mind to answer your question. So you moved on to the two older hyungs.

‘’What’s so funny?’’ you repeated the question as Yoongi and Namjoon grinned, looking down at the sticky note and sharing a few words before Yoongi gave you the small paper.

On the top were two names: ‘’Y/N + Jimin’’, followed by ‘’scene #67′’.

You tried to rack your brain and remembered scene 67 was supposed to be a scene where you were supposed to look lost in a train compartment as Jimin rushed over to you, pushing both you guys through a door to end up in the middle of a field with the rest of boys. But as your eyes lowered, you sucked in a breath as a change of actions were written down.

SCENE CHANGE: ‘’[Jimin] taking [Y/N] outside ---> [Jimin] kissing [Y/N]’’

Your eyes widened as you felt your heart skip a beat. The thought of kissing Jimin made you feel a bit light-headed. Now you understood why everyone thought this was so funny, because Jimin never actually even approached you. You had some small talks with him, but he always seemed so shy around you and was never really someone to have some long ass talks with. And now you also understood why Jimin was so embarrassed and fled the scene; he knew he never really talked to you and he knew how embarrassing it would be for him to kiss you.

‘’Y/N, are you okay?’’ Namjoon asked, and you could tell he was trying really hard to push away the grin that was about to creep on his face. You just nodded, several strands of hair falling in front of your face, but you swatted them away immediately.

‘’Y-yeah, yeah. I just… think I’m going to have a chat with Jimin,’’ you stuttered and pushed your body past Namjoon’s. You gave the two giggling maknaes a disappointed look, before leaving the dressing room and making your way to the set.

As you arrived, you saw Jimin in a heated discussion with the director and he looked pretty upset. While you halted your steps and tried to listen to the conversation, another member of the crew came to stand right next to you.

‘’You know, we didn’t do it without any reason given. PD-nim said it’d give the video ten times more views,’’ he lowly said while you two watched the director throwing his arms in the air rather furiously. You grimaced.

‘’It shouldn’t matter whether a kiss gives a video more views. If both Jimin and I don’t feel comfortable with the sudden change of plan, it shouldn’t be included in the video. Him dragging me through a door would be shocking enough,’’ you argued and tried to sound convincing of your statement, but the crew member gave you a look which told you he knew he was right.

‘’Aren’t you comfortable with the idea of kissing Jimin?’’ he asked you straightforwardly and you immediately shook your head.

‘’No,’’ you said, ‘’I think.’’

‘’You think?’’

‘’I mean, who cares? It’s just a kiss, right? We don’t even know each other that well,’’ you said and you must’ve sounded very contradicting to what you said earlier.

‘’Woah, Y/N-ssi, go tell Jimin that. Maybe then he’d calm down a bit,’’ the guy said before he left you alone again, and you stared at Jimin’s tensed back for a few seconds. Was Jimin really that upset? Were you really that bad to kiss? Or was it something else?

Suddenly, Jimin turned around and was about to dash off again, but he stopped midway because otherwise, he had ran you over. He looked down at you and his eyes widened.

‘’Jimin,’’ you curtly said.

‘’Y-Y/N, h-hey,’’ he shyly said and he stood frozen in place, feet glued to the ground.

He looked really cute today, you had to admit that. They put him in a warm, fluffy soft blue coat and a striped sweater underneath it. His loose jeans was cut till his knees and he wore some green sneakers and high socks as a finish in touch. Well, actually, the finish in touch was his cute, pink pastel hair, and you almost gasped at how adorable and small the outfit made him look.

‘’Are you okay? With… the scene?’’ you asked him and hoped for him to answer it in all honesty. Because by the looks of that heated discussion he had just now, he didn’t seem too happy about it.

‘’Ah, about that…’’ he said and started to fidget with the zoom of his T-shirt, ‘’I’m not entirely sure if I am comfortable with it. I mean, gosh, Y/N, y-you’re such a pretty person. Everyone would kill to be kissed by you. I mean, wait… I didn’t mean to say… Y/N, what I want to say, is that--‘’

You halted him by holding up your hand. He pressed his lips together after his totally embarrassing ramble and just stared at your hand, really not knowing what to do now. He called you pretty but refused to kiss you. That’s fine.

‘’It’s okay Jimin, if you don’t want to, then don’t. Do not let other people push you around that much. The scene was good like it was, just you pushing me outside, you know?’’ you reasoned and tried to let Jimin understand you’re okay with basically everything. ‘’But it’s just… it’s just a kiss, you know? You’ll survive. You’ve been kissed before, so don’t be too nervous about it.’’

You tried to give him an encouraging smile and tilted your head. ‘’Think about it. I’ll see you in a bit for the shooting.’’

And with that, you turned around and sprinted away, leaving Jimin at the set as you silently squealed to yourself. You couldn’t really tell from his body language or facial expressions what he was thinking, but let it be a surprise what he was planning on doing so.

About an hour later, you were finally called over for the scene everybody had been talking about for the past sixty minutes. Yet it was still unsure what was about to happen. You heard from Namjoon that Jimin received the freedom to choose from the director and that you’ll see what his decision was soon enough. So, feeling slightly anxious, you tried to act your way through the scene as you dramatically turned your head towards the camera.

Just then, Jimin came running down the train compartment and grabbed your hand. He let the camera take different angles from his action as he looked down on you.

‘’C’mon,’’ he whispered as Spring Day blared in the background, and with those words, you knew he had made his choice.

You felt him pulling you along to the fake door and he was about to push it open, but suddenly he froze for a millisecond and turned around, his chocolate brown eyes staring deep into your eyes. With the acting skills flooding through your veins, you tried to adapt your expressions to the situation and leaned into Jimin. You felt his hands rest on your hips as you fluttered your eyes closed, hands resting on shoulders and breath quickening.

Soon, a pair of plump lips placed themselves on your lips, and weird enough, relief washed over you as you came in contact with him. It felt good, almost too good. Your heartbeat fastened and you felt Jimin rub his hands over your hips, trying to make the kiss as soothing as possible.

His lips felt really nice. Better than expected, and you tilted your head a bit more to taste just a little bit more of his softness. But after a good fifteen seconds to give the cameraman different angles from the kiss, you pulled back and kept your eyes closed for a couple of more seconds.

‘’Woah,’’ you heard Jimin breathlessly say and you hummed, opening your eyes and seeing how close you still were to Jimin.

‘’Yeah,’’ you smirked, ‘’woah.’’

And yet again, laughter could be heard from a distance and you whipped your head towards the sound, not noticing you and Jimin were still holding onto each other.

Taehyung and Jungkook were on the ground, again, and were laughing their asses off. But the rest of the crew was clapping and had big, satisfied grins on their faces, even the rest of the boys looked pretty impressed.

‘’Way to go, Jiminnie!’’ Hoseok yelled, which made Jin scold at him, but it still made Jimin smile.

As said before, you were still in each other’s arms and you both felt quite comfortable like this too. You looked up to meet his gaze again and smiled.

‘’That was pretty amazing, Jimin,’’ you said and meant it. You were probably never this serious about something.

Blood rushed to his cheeks as he started to smile sheepishly. ‘’You too, Y/N,’’ he said while biting his lip, the smile getting bigger as you finally decided to break the embrace.

‘’We’ll eh… We’ll talk later,’’ you said and you still felt a bit swooned by the whole scene. Was it weird you actually wanted it to do it all over again?

‘’Yeah,’’ Jimin said as he tried to regain the feeling of your lips on his, actually really enjoying that feeling, ‘’definitely.’’

❀

*Jackson Wang voice* Cute. Also, I have been listening to Spring Day on repeat because of this rip !!

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