the prompt: do you think you could write a yoongi x reader fic? Something with a situation/plot like Moulin Rouge?
category: moulin rouge au
disclaimer: all references and rights of moulin rouge go to it’s original creators.
author note: right so I watch the whole movie and there are like 7 different angsty plot twists. i skipped only a few. anyway this is a lot like the movie since it was fresh on my mind so i hope you don’t mind that. I also took a few things that I wasn’t comfortable with writing out. I hope you guys enjoy this because it’s my longest scenario yet at 6k+ words.
Um… Because of my dad, I guess? I mean, my mom has pink skin but my dad doesn’t. I’m not surprised that I have the same skin as my dad though. I have a lot of his traits. He actually has a pink eye like I do! *rubs her arm awkwardly* He told me that some people used to make fun of him when he was younger because of his eye. They said that he was weak and that pink is a girl’s color.
*smiles proudly* But my dad is the strongest, bravest person I know! He proved them all wrong and showed that it doesn’t matter what a person looks like on the outside. All that matters is the heart that beats on the inside! *waves her hand dismissively* Besides, there is no such thing as a girl’s color or a boy’s color. Colors are for everyone…
*shrugs* Lots of people assume that all watchdogs are the same, but we aren’t. Every single watchdog is unique. Some have pink skin and red eyes… While some have different colored skin and different colored eyes. *motions to herself with a slight blush* I’ve even seen some watchdogs with hair. *giggles* My dad has a mustache…
Annabeth saw the first gift during the morning coffee rush while training the new kid they had just hired. She shoved the letter addressed to “cute blonde barista” into her apron and forgot about it. Customers were always trying to get her number, it was nothing new.
The second gift couldn’t be shoved into her pocket or forgotten, at least not without damaging it. Attached to the thorny fresh-picked rose was a note: “read my letter :)”. She made a mental note to open the envelope when she got home and plucked the petals off the rose, throwing away the stem. She’d find something to do with them; they were too pretty not to keep, even though Annabeth praised herself on being sensible enough to avoid getting caught up in fanciful things like flowers. They were too pretty to go to waste.