jazz restaurant

The Matchmaker (4/??)

Theme : Impulsive, raw, rushed. The Matchmaker as Vincent Van Gogh.

Credit to the owners for all the pictures!

Title : The Matchmaker

Pairing : Jaebum x Reader x Jinyoung

Genre : Fluff, Romance, Angst

Author : Me

Summary : You love Jaebum, with all your heart. There is no way he would love you back though, considering you’re too scared to even say hello to him. One day, your friend tells you about the Matchmaker, a man who can help you get the love of your life and you decide you need this person in your life. This is the only way to make Jaebum and you a whole.

/ Teaser / Part I / Part II / Part III

Part IV 

It was obvious that you needed advices. You were supposed to go to a dance performance in two days and had no idea what it was going to be about. Jaebum had told you where and when it was, and while you should be excited, you were actually freaking out on the inside. You were supposed to meet with your coach at 8pm to prepare for this.

When he opened the door and spotted you in the middle of the soft music echoing in the dim place, he went to the bar, ordering something and walked to your table.

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Brooklyn Boys: Part Two

Part One


deep within the streets of Brooklyn, a girl discovers her love for her hometown pastry shop. Growing up she never had much to call her own, but there was something that stayed constant in her life - Her Brooklyn Boys. In the years passing, the three living their lives within the streets of New York - they always keep in touch. With a dream to open her own shop, Bucky and Steve follow her steps into a new Chapter - however, that is until one late night incident happens. With the question between Love and friendship - which Brooklyn Boy will she chose?


Word Count: 3,863

Slight cursing, heated moment, Humor, tension

Wow, cant believe it. hope you guys like it! let me know what you think :)

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In The Name of Love (Chris Jericho x Reader)

Context: Would you risk it all to protect the one you love? Reader’s job is dangerous…but this time it may come at the cost of Chris’ life.

**A/N: ** I had about three thousand television shows and movies running through my head for this one: Hunger Games, Criminal Minds, Codename Kids Next Door, 24. I just took all of them and ran with. Anyways, the song choice is “In The Name of Love” by Martin Garrix and Bebe Rexha.

**SB: ** I know I said this will be written in the next two weeks but hey, it’s done now. I might write a sequel. I might not. Chris doesn’t get enough stories involving him.

***WARNINGS *** MYSTERY; CONSPIRACIES; MURDER; SLIGHTLY NSFW (Idk what else. If you watched any of the shows named above then yeah. That’s what I’m going with.)

Originally posted by prowrestlingnow

**Tags: **  @gamer705 ; @the-geekgoddes ; @crookedmoonsaultpunk ; @laochbaineann ; @squirrel666 ; @livingthestrongstyle ; @nickysmum1909 ; @wrestlingnoob ; @j3r1ch0-y2j ; @theelitevillian ; @hardcorewwetrash

“If I told you this was only gonna hurt

If I warned you that the fire’s gonna burn

Would you walk in?

Would you let me do it first?

Do it all in the name of love”…

Case File: Romeo-Echo-Victor-Echo-November-Golf-Echo (REVENGE)

Good evening to all members of the Secret Society,

     We have found the second in command agent, who successfully infiltrated our ranks, before we were able to take over the Capitol. Because of this agent, many of our former leaders lost their freedom in the fight. This is our new mission for revenge. Eliminate the agent and everything she loves. She’s extremely talented. The plans for the future have changed and are in motion. You know where to find me.


         Being married to an FBI agent, especially one who was second in command of an entire branch, is difficult when you’re already in the public eye. Chris Jericho is a man who is more than a professional wrestler, musician, and an actor. He is my husband and an amazing one at that. For that reason, I was always worried about him, about me, about our family, and the current state of the government. I couldn’t risk a thing; not after the last incident.

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Originally posted by sirredmayne

Requested by anon <3
Prompt:  Oh goodness your imagines are beautiful!! Could you please do something with Newt possibly with the two walking down the French Aux Champs-Elysées at midnight? It’s a fantastic place where everything is open (there’s a lovely song about it called Aux Champs-Elysées if you want to listen) thank you so much!!!!!! xx
idk if what i said in french is correct lol


A smile stretched on your red lips as with arms hooked together you and Newton Scamander moved down the Champs Aux-Elysees. Fairy lights glimmered wrapped around street lamps, the small shops opened as the midnight moon shone in the velvet sky. The weather was chilly and with your free hand you pulled the flaps of your coat closer to your chest and pressed on his arm, the heat of his body picking at your skin even through the thick fabric. Music flooded some restaurants, flirtatious banter, coy giggles and sweet French words ringing in the wind that swayed your curled (color) hair.

“Paris is considerably more interesting than I expected.” Newt suddenly broke the comfortable silence; his head tilted just enough to catch your gaze.

“Is there a specific reason, monsieur?” You questioned, rising one carefully manicured brow. Newt gave you a loopy grin.

“Care to take any guesses?”

“It is because you found a white Occamy?” came your flat voice. Newt’s shoulder shook in a light chuckle and after glancing at his tightly shut suitcase he came to look at you again, the tips of his ears flaming a bright red.

“Yes, well, that too…” He came to a stop by a restaurant, jazz music ringing out the closed doors as dim lights playful shone out the lidded windows. He turned fully, now standing just a few inches away as he admired you for a moment before licking his bottom lip and continuing, “Would you, um, “ the suave charm he was wore seemed to crack for a moment as he glanced away in a spur of anxiety. After collecting himself, which he did relatively quick as you watched in amusement, he cleared his dry throat and said, “I…Could I interest you in a dance, perhaps?”

A lovely smile stretched on your painted lips, eyes gleaming like emeralds as you gave a light shrug, trying to hide just how excited you were, “Je pensais que tu ne demanderais jamais.” He blinked, owlishly.

“Is…is that a yes?” He asked with a loopy grin. You giggled.

“To you? Always.”

Requests are opened!

Well, You Know What They Say About Desperate Times... [Chapter Three]

It was a good thing he didn’t take Mo’s incessant insubordination seriously.

“One of my traffickers from Hong Kong says you spat at him.”

“In the mouth.”

The fiery shade from his hair matched the tone of his skin. He was real burn up.*

Was this kid not even going to try to deny it? Or grovel? Say it was his mistake and he’d never do it again?

They both were in HeTian’s office building next to the speakeasy.
HeTian sat with his hands folded on top of the desk which separated them, and Mo GuanShan stood in the middle of the room without a chair. People didn’t sit in his office: they reported, and they got out. The days when he actually needed a chair were the days it came paired with a knife, as well as someone being restrained in it. His boys had suggested if he needed it when he called for Mo GuanShan to be brought to his office, but he just renovated this flooring so he’d hate to stain it so soon.

The kid whose back was straight as can be and arms unmoving by his sides suggested that the training Meng and the others gave the little booger* went successful, if it weren’t for his brazen glaring eyes.
They were in his direction, but not necessarily at him; more like he was staring down a recent memory.

HeTian sighed.

The kid was beginning to become more trouble than he was worth.

The one he had started a fight with was a handsome white male who was useful in transporting opium from the mainland to California and New York. People just didn’t question entitled blonde haired, blue-eyed white males. They could be strapped so much they’d have to walk with a cane, and authorities wouldn’t give much of a damn.

“Luckily for you, that one had been accused of skimming my uncle’s Triad in California. From the top then, Mo GuanShan. And don’t leave out any details…”


____ , I love _____.”

Mo looked up from drying a glass at the English man before him. He may not understand the language itself, but their accents and way of dress was distinct enough.

___ ___ ____ __ pretty.

What? 漂亮*?Was he talking about their canary*? He glanced to the jazz singer on stage in front of the pianist; a unique Chinese-African duo unlike any jazz bar or restaurant had in the entire city. Probably the country. It was ironic, the race known for classical playing, sing jazz with all the bravado of a goddess, and a Black pianist killin’ the keys but in a tux meant for a concerto.

He looked back to the white man in front of him, but his eyes were solely set on the one in front of him. On Mo.

“Can I offer you a drink, sir?”

You can offer me ____ __ your ____…


What is this asshole saying?!

He tried to keep a straight face. He was given a crash course in English, but most of the time the customers were either Chinese or just spoke the name of the drink they wanted and whether they wanted added rocks or not. Some would ask about their “special”, for which he was trained to get one of the Triad if they ever said those words, and then they’d lead them upstairs. He was pretty sure they were the buyers or distributors of their opium stock.

“I am…sorry. My English -”

‘Not verry good’?” the man said in an accent that wasn’t his own, and chuckled as if he made a funny joke.

His teeth gritted, “Is not very good. Sir.”

The blonde across slightly widened his eyes, “Oh, ho! ____ __ you! Your English is ______ ____ ____!“

“Thank you,” Mo guessed.
Best to get on with this so he can finish cleaning before the act ended on stage. It was usually when the customers flooded the bar, and this guy wasn’t talking nearly loud enough for his limited English to be of any use.

Hey, Mister Bartender… Why ____ you and I ____?

“Pardon me?”

You know, “getaway”, like “leave”?

“I have work, sir.”

Mo silently hoped this guy would take the hint. He didn’t.

____ __ ____ quick. ____ you and me in the back. I’ll ____ __ ____ your _____? How ____ fifty dollars _____?

Huh? Fifty dollars? Is this guy…what’s the word HeTian used?…'Propositioning’ me? Does he think I’m a prostitute?!

___! Stop _______ __ this chink! He doesn’t understand English!” Another white man stepped in, someone he recognized had been lead to talk shop upstairs, and spoke more to the asshole in front of him, but he stopped trying to get it.

Instead, Mo GuanShan switched into Chinese.
“You tryin’ to give me a fifty like it ain’t chump change, but you should know you British shitstains, you and your shit King wouldn’t be able to afford this Asian ass.”

That stopped the white men in their tracks, confusion etched all over their faces, but a cocky grin crossed over his own.
“Wha~t? You boys don’t understand Chinese? I guess I’m not the only one who can look stupid, ah? Here you are, in your fancy coats, with your fancy gloves, and your fancy shoes… Too stupid to know the language of the establishment you’ve walked your money into.”

The men before him suddenly grew angry. Did they understand him?
No… They just hated to hear and not understand a language that wasn’t English.

One of them grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him forward, but before he could give a threat he wouldn’t even understand anyway, he waited for the parting of his lips…and made sure what he spat aimed right between them.

The man gagged and his companion looked on in horror, but all Mo could do was laugh.

Gentlemen! You look ____! _____ me __ ____slate.

He looked to his right.

Of course it had to be fuckin’ HeTian walking up to the bar, giving a rapidly spun slew of words in perfect English he couldn’t hope to under- wait, did he say the word ‘translate’ earlier?? No -

Within moments, pairs of angry blue eyes set on him.

Well, looks like they understood what he’d said now…

But before the situation could escalate and they all started boffing* each other, Kwon, one of the brunos* standing at the door of the joint, took both the men by their shoulders.

“I think it’s time for you both to leave,” HeTian said in Chinese before switching back to English… But he couldn’t understand a lick of it.

Kwon navigated them to the door as HeTian walked ahead with the occasional twirl of his cane.

“GuanShan, did you understand what HeTian-Xiānsheng said?” It was Au Chi-Kung, bent over from trying to contain his laughter. Mo forgot he had gone to the back room to check on their stock on ice. They were similar in age, Chi-Kung being just a couple years older, so he was closer to him than other Triad members.

“What’d he say?”

The act ended, the patrons applauded the ones on stage, and he had to get closer and have the other boy whisper in his ear:

“He said, ‘Everything in this club is mine. You either buy the merchandise I tell you to buy, or you get the fuck out.’”


“What’d ya mean by that? What Chi- I mean, what Au said?”*

Was he…a slave? That he was “merchandise” that could be sold to a white man? If HeTian wanted it? It had bothered him since.

A tense silence proliferated between them and enveloped the office.

HeTian still had his hands folded together, and looked over Mo, but besides that, remained unmoving as if he hadn’t heard what Mo had said.

He didn’t seem he would ever say anything.

But Mo stubbornly didn’t seem like he would be leaving anytime soon.

Are you mine?”


“Are you?”

Hell no.

There’s your answer.

…..Well what did that mean!?

Mo’s mind sputtered, somewhere between confusion and irritation by the way HeTian unsatisfyingly answers anything. What did he mean? Did Mo have a choice in anything? Just saying he wasn’t gonna do something couldn’t have been enough, right??

Not sure where to go from there and still struggling for words, HeTian stood up from the desk and spoke before Mo could.

“You’ll be needing more English lessons, I can tell you that. You seem to be able to handle yourself with just your words as long as you can speak the same language,” HeTian briefly opened desk drawers just to close them, “Now, where did I leave that book?”

He bent down to get a look in a bottom drawer, but Mo still overheard the low mutterings to himself. “What kind of mook spits in someone’s mouth…?”

Under his own breath, Mo grumbled back, “The same kinda mook who hires a person who spits in people’s mouths.”

HeTian’s head lifted behind the desk, and Mo saw the slow pull of his lips into a genuine smile.

He couldn’t help but reciprocate.


*burn up - seething, really angry
*booger - brat
*漂亮 piàoliang (peeyow leeyang) = pretty. It’s a pretty well known English word and one of the first rods you learn in Chinese, so I figured the same was opposite.
*canary - a singer
*boffing - to hit someone
*brunos - hired gunmen or other tough guys
*It’s a more reserved time and I figured that people usually referred to others by their last name, and it was impolite to the refer to someone by their first name if they’re your superior.
*mook - a stupid or incompetent person

I’m encountering a problem here that I hope… I’ve reasoned out so no one who’s native Chinese can point out discrepancies. HeTian, Mo, and Meng, are Mandarin names, while Triads mainly originated in Hong Kong. I justify this because different triads are based in different areas, and can contain Mandarin factions in Mainland China and actually kinda needed them for the opium transportations. I believe Mosspaca is based in a mandarin speaking city, so I kept the names the way they were, but will add more Cantonese names as we go on. The PROBLEM lies with whether it would have been better to have made them from the Tong, which is more Mainland China based, instead of Triad, but I think the Triad is more well known. So if HeTian was a successful Chinese gangbanger in NYC, it’d make more sense of him being Triad. But I need to figure out if the Tong and Triad are mutuals or rivals…

VIXX They Make Dinner For You

N – Hakyeon has decent culinary skills. His goals for the meal would be more sophisticated than he could do on his own so he’d sneak in a few things that were store bought or from a restaurant to jazz it up. His cooking would be fine without it but he’d want to make a really good impression on your taste buds. So he’d consider the little touches from outside sources to be secret ingredients. It was his idea to add them so technically it’s still his creation, right? Obviously N would want to do this because he loves you but you’d better express your appreciation or he’d be somewhat salty. And be prepared to do the dishes.

Leo – It’d be really tasty. We all know Taekwoon can cook and he’d pull out all the stops to impress you. Seriously it would be so delicious you’d practically melt. You’d make all kinds of yummy noises and sincerely mean them. Seeing you appreciate his efforts so much would make him feel super warm and fuzzy inside, complete with a bashful smile. He loves to see you happy and the act of making food is a very caring gesture for him. You would feel his love since he went to the trouble and he would feel loved because you were so thankful to him for taking the time.

Ken – He’d surprise you by making a good meal. Jyani is a man of many hidden talents. He would love to make you think he doesn’t know what he’s doing but as long as it’s pretty simple he’d have it under control. It’d make him happy to be chopping and singing under his breath as he makes something just for the two of you to eat. If he could make funny faces or shapes with the food he would. Whatever he ended up making he’d want to feed you bites directly but only if you say he’s the best boyfriend in the whole world first.  

Ravi – He’s pretty much your ‘typical’ guy. He has a few basic dishes in his repertoire like kimchi fried rice and for some reason I think he’d be good at spaghetti. But stray out of his wheelhouse and you’re in trouble. The quality of his food can be a little hit or miss depending on distractions so he’d focus intently on not screwing up. Doing the best he could he’d know it’s not four star quality but he’d hope you felt his sincerity and love. He’d be a little shy presenting the food but if you praised his cooking he be happily surprised and ask, ‘Really?’ It’d be very sweet.

Hongbin – It would only happen occasionally. He’s a good cook but he’d be very exact about the measurements and details so it would be a time consuming project he wouldn’t want to repeat often. He’d always follow a recipe and never substitute ingredients. Kong would also double and triple check that he was following the directions precisely. His presentation would be deceptively clean and simple, but using classic, traditional ingredients, the flavors would be amazing. And while he wasn’t that thrilled while doing the actual cooking, seeing you gush about his food would make him really proud and happy.  

Hyuk – Probably not his idea because he’d be pretty upfront about not being able to cook. But if he was roped into cooking for you he’d make ramen because he’d find it hilarious. Seriously, you know he can’t cook so what were you expecting? Randomly he’d send you pictures of ingredients and chopped veggies to make it look like he’d been in the kitchen for hours. After building up your expectations he’d bring a covered pot out to the table where you sat. Lifting the lid would reveal instant ramen. But it would be ready at least because sending all those pictures made him hungry.​


The Adventures of Sehun and Vivi

Installment 1  |  Installment 3

In which Vivi gets lost and found–and somehow, Sehun does, too.

Featuring: Sehun, You

Written by: Admin V

She was staring at you.

Blue, watery sapphires never leaving your figure as you did your hair, humming a soft tune.

Brushing through your waves one last time, you finally sighed. Set down the hairbrush. Knelt down.

“What is it, Buttercup?”

She just stared at you with that knowing look of hers.

“What? You pouted. “I really like him. You can understand that, can’t you?”

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