yes this is my old head

30 Questions Tag

Rules: answer 30 questions then tag 20 blogs you would like to know better.

Tagged by @mainhoonemily 🦑😍 and @letseeseungri 🐼😘

1. Nicknames: my MIL thought my name was Sandra for a little while

2. Gender: thirteen year old girl
3. Star sign: Pisces and yes I feel sensitive about it

4. Height: 5′7″/170 cm

5. Time: 10:00am

6. Birthday: Feb 19
7. favorite bands: The Smashing Pumpkins, Bigbang, I’ve been pretty into Two Door Cinema Club lately and rediscovering some Silversun Pickups stuff 

8. favorite solo artists: Seungri, James Iha, idek my brain is broken. Tori Amos.
9. Song stuck in my head: Woke up this morning with EXO’s “They Never Know” 

10. Last movie watched: Biutiful. Javier Bardem always gets me.

11. Last show watched: Game of Thrones
12. When did i create my blog: Idk, 2016 sometime

13. What do i post: recipes, bible scripture, Seungri wearing pants

14. Last thing googled: “McSpider” I’m new to Australia and this is glorious

15. do you have other blogs: 🍆🍑

16. Do you get asks: not really, whatever happened to that one person who is hella salty re: T.O.P and Seungri’s dysfunctional romance?
 I welcome any and all topri/Seungri/bigbang musings but tbh I will talk shit about about anything.
17. Why did u choose your url: bc I love pbj and I can stop anytime I want to
18. Following: no idea, I usually follow back if you tag your posts or I see you in my notifications a lot

19. Followers: no idea but I am happy to share recipes and scripture with all of you

20. Favorite colors: red and purple

21. Average hours of sleep: prob about 6/7

22. Lucky number: 8

23. Instruments: I took guitar lessons, but not long enough to develop calluses on my fingertips. Also my guitar teacher was convicted as a pedophile and that kind of interrupted the flow of my learning.  Guitar: it’s hard.

24. What am I wearing: LL Bean robe, America’s Next Top Model pj pants, flip flops. I should go get the mail.

25. How many blankets I sleep with: 39737272 bc there’s no central heat in this house

26. Dream job: writer. At this point I’d take copywriter for the in-flight duty free magazine

27. Dream trip: Today I wanna go to….uhh…a hotel room all by myself. lol jk that’s every day

28. Favorite food: pb

29. Nationality: American

30. Favorite song now: G-Dragon - “Divina Commedia” 💔🎻💔🎻💔🎻💔

tagging 20 people is omg why. do this if you wanna! @brandimarcel31 @warof-hormone @justaslothreally @lamptastical @highfivesghost @usaco55 @mxci @vipdae @thechoi-choi @jpgseunghyun @wearealldoomedada @xxjebbiechanxx @bingu-just-no

fag-gender  asked:

hey your hair looks really good on your selfies ! did you bleach it ? how do you get it to look so bright ?

aw thank you! i do bleach my own hair, yes. i’m sure you’re just looking for a couple word answer, but here’s an incoming impromptu tutorial! >:O

Materials (all of this can be bought at Sally Beauty Supply):

Process:

  1. First is making the bleach mixture. This is what brings my hair from brown to blonde. I empty the entire bleach packet into a bowl. Then add about 2 parts of the 40 volume developer (twice as much developer as powder). Then add the four or five artificial sweetener packets (these make it so the bleach won’t feel like burning death, not mandatory but a lifesaver). Mix thoroughly with the brush. The consistency should be a little goopier than icing. Kinda like pudding. It shouldn’t be chunky at all.
  2. Using the brush, apply that goop allll over your head. I like to start with the top of my head, then do the sides, then the back. I do not use the entirety of the mixture I make, probably only half of it. I’m careful not to get any on my eyebrows, eyes, or mouth. Really, just avoid your face lol.
  3. Once that’s done, I let it sit for about an hour. BUT this stuff is super damaging to hair and I can only recommend 40 minutes. Then I rinse it out using cold water in the shower, making VERY SURE not to get any in my eyes. During this process I deep condition my hair. Once I feel like it’s all out, I towel dry.
  4. After drying my hair I check to make sure it’s even and I didn’t miss any patches of brown hair. The bleach is still good to use by this point, so if I did miss any I just plop it on the problem area and let it sit for 30 minutes (it’s probably only roots, which bleach super fast).
  5. If I’m satisfied, I rinse out the bleach bowl and clean the brush and then move on to the toner. This is what takes my hair from neon yellow to blonde. I dump all the Wella toner in the bowl and mix it with 2 parts developer (the box says to use 20 but I find that 30 works best. 40 might be ok but I can’t vouch for it). This stuff will be more goopy and uneven than the bleach mixture. I put it all on my head using the brush same as the bleach, and I tend to go A LOT faster applying the toner because it only works while it’s still activating, so there’s a limited window of opportunity to tone your hair. I leave that stuff on for 40 minutes, because I really want my hair to be not yellow. Fair warning, if you leave it on too long your hair can get a blueish tint. Yikes!
  6. I rinse the toner mixture out of my hair with cold water in the shower, and I find that it helps to use a wide-toothed comb to help. I had to both shampoo and deep condition my hair to get this stuff off of my head, and it still felt off the next day. It takes a while to get out.
  7. And voila! You’re done and now have light blonde hair!

Notes/Tips/Disclaimer:

  • I do this in my apartment totally nude. It saves so much trouble taking clothes off and on again when you’re probably showering like 3 times in the course of a couple hours.
  • Be careful when applying the bleach and ESPECIALLY the toner. The toner tends to drip a little bit and will stain the everloving shit out of things. Luckily a Mr. Clean eraser gets it out of counters and walls. I don’t recommend moving around a whole lot during this process. If you can sit on the toilet with a good book, or handheld videogame, I recommend doing that.
  • MOST IMPORTANTLY, bleach and to a lesser extent toner damage the fuck out of your hair. My hair is a frizzy mess by default because of genetics so I don’t mind it, but if you have silky smooth hair that you care about more than life itself, you might want to try a lower volume developer (20 or 30 do less damage but less work), or go to an actual salon.
  • If you’re committing to blonde, you probably also want to get purple shampoo and/or conditioner. It helps keep brassy yellow coloring away from invading your new hair.
  • If you have long hair, this exact process won’t work for you. Bleaching long hair involves more product, a lot of tin foil to cover the hair as you apply the bleach, and is a lot easier to fuck up. Definitely look up other guides for long hair.
  • Fun fact: Bleach DESTROYS dandruff. I have bad dandruff usually and bleach is the only thing that gets it off my head. :)

Anyway that’s my impromptu hair bleaching tutorial! I’m sure you weren’t looking for all that info but I figure’d I’d put it out there lol. Here is me about 1.5 weeks after using this exact method!

If you have a lucid dream, do not commit any acts of violence against the things you meet

by reddit user professionalsuccubus

I had my first lucid dream at age nine.

I was in a decrepit neighborhood – rotting porches, peeling paint, Spanish moss hanging off dormers, the works. Mist swirled around my ankles as I walked slowly through the streets. Like an old video game, the horizon was both unchanging and unreachable.

I wandered around, in and out of the cobwebby houses. Although the streets were empty, the houses usually had a few ghosts floating around. There were a few children, but they were mostly old people, in various stages of decay. They never hurt me, nor did they speak. They just floated. Sometimes they’d follow me, but I never felt threatened.

Keep reading

ppl who still see/portray yixing as air-headed or ‘high’ all the time like… have u ever actually heard him speak? have u ever even read any of his interviews or listened to him give a speech? boy has so much going on in his head it’s honestly mind blowing … he’s so eloquent? he communicates so well n he’s so intelligent n introspective n he speaks like 3 languages n is also a damn musical prodigy so like where the fck do ppl get off acting like he a ditz lmao

Gordon protecting Batman's identity

Ok. Is a well known fact that Jim Gordon probably knows Bruce Wayne’s Batman, but he never says anything because A) he can’t prove it. B) he secretly likes Bruce.

For that reason, he also keeps away everyone who’s getting close.

“Hey, have you guys realized Bruce Wayne’s always out of town while Batman’s missing?
"The guy’s a business man, Carl. Stop being so paranoid”

“Hey, Bruce Wayne adopted a new kid around the same time the new robin came around.”
“Yes, ‘cause Robin is the only black haired twelve year old in Gotham, Frank. Use your head son!”

“Sir, have you ever realized Batman appeared in Gotham the same year Bruce Wayne mysteriously came back after years missing?”
“It was not the same year, Sara. Bruce Wayne came back in December and Batman only appeared the the end of January. Big difference.”

“God, Jim. That Nightwing kid looks a lot like your daughter’s boyfriend…”
“Is it my fault the girl inherited my good taste? Besides, they don’t look that much alike, Dick’s nose is bigger”

“Commissioner, I think I saw Bruce Wayne’s butler passing him a cape and cow under a table during yesterday’s gala…”
“Rich people are weird. Who am I to judge?”

The Reader and the Writer (Part 3)

Originally posted by juptern

Part one here    Part two here

Anon requests: Will you please do part 3 of the reader and the writer

You’re writing is so amazing, it’s what keeps me alive 😂😍 so thank you for doing such an amazing job and I hope you’re having an amazing day 💜 And I was wondering if you consider writing a part 3 of The Reader and The Writer someday? Because I’d love to read more of it 🙈

Please please PLEASE do a Part 3 to the reader and the writer? It’s amazing x

Omg! Part 3 please gor he reader and the writer 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER PLEASE

PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER

Part 3 of Reader and Writer?? Cause you are too good to us??? Like thank you??? 💞I swoon for your writing 💞

I NEED PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER ASAAAPPPP

The Reader and the Writer (part 2) was amazing and so are all ouf your writings ! I can’t wait for a part 3 !

Will you do a part 3 of the reader and the writer??

I know you just posted but WOW I NEED A PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER GIRL YOU TOO GOOD!!!

OMFG PLEASE PART 3 OF THE READER AND THE WRITER AAAAHHH I’M SO GLAD I REQUESTED IT YAAASSS YOUR WRITING IS PERFECT AND AMAZING I LOVE YOU <3

I!!! AM!!! SHOOK!!!! I NEED PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER WOWOWOWOW ITS AMAZING

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: The reader returns, and she offers the writer some explanations that he’s been waiting for

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,041

A/N: It’s here! I am so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long, I had so much going on this week and I had barely any time to write at all. I hope this makes up for it, enjoy!


Jughead didn’t expect for (Y/N) to return to Pop’s; in fact, he thought she’d leave town.  However, the following night he was proven wrong when she walked in and sat across him in their usual booth.

“You’re here,” he stated. (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow.

“You expected otherwise?” she inquired, crossing her arms.

“Well, to be fair, I hadn’t seen you in about a month before yesterday,” Jughead defended himself.  (Y/N) sucked in a breath and went to contradict him, but she realized he was right, so she shut her mouth.  They sat in silence, both of them avoiding eye contact with each other.  Finally, (Y/N) sighed and broke the quiet.

“So I’m guessing you want to talk about it,” she said, not even bothering to pull out a book.  Jughead nodded as he closed his laptop.

“I think I deserve a bit more information than the fact that you were born in Riverdale,” he grumbled.

“You do,” she agreed.

“So why did you think that was important to tell me?” Jughead began the interrogation. “Out of all the things to say to stop me from leaving, why that?”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” (Y/N) attempted to joke, but Jughead didn’t even crack a smile.  She sighed and continued.  "I don’t know, because that’s the beginning. I’m a reader, Jug, I like to start at the beginning of a story.“

"And so your beginning started here.”

“Yes.”

“But then you moved somewhere else?” Jughead asked.  (Y/N) nodded.  "Why?“

"Because we had to,” she responded.  "My parents were… unpleasant people, to say the least.  Bad people tend to mingle, and thus my parents met the Blossoms.“  Jughead’s head perked up at the mention of the family.

"The Blossoms?” he echoed.  "As in Jason Blossom?“

"No, the other notorious Blossom family in Riverdale,” she rolled her eyes, sarcasm oozing from every word.  "Yes, Jason Blossom’s family.“  Jughead’s silence signaled for her to continue.  “My family and their family had this long-lasting feud for as long as I can remember.”

“So is that why you left?” he asked.  “Because of the feud?”

“Yes,” she answered tentatively, “and no.  It’s complicated.  You see, I didn’t leave Riverdale with my parents.”  (Y/N) paused for a moment, biting her lip.  “My parents were murdered.”  Jughead’s eyes widened as he realized the severity of her situation.

“The Blossoms did it?” he immediately assumed.  (Y/N) shook her head.

“Not that we know of,” she replied.  “They never figured out who did it.  Yes, the Blossoms were high on the suspect list, but personally, I don’t think it was them.  They’re too snobbish to actually murder someone.”  The pair fell into a silence, Jughead attempting to soak up all the information he was just given.  (Y/N) lazily glanced around the dinner, scanning the strangers’ faces.

“Why’d you come back?” Jughead spoke up.  (Y/N)’s eyes flicked back to his face.

“They were about to sell our old home,” she shrugged.  “My aunt was infuriated, so she packed up all our things and moved here.” Jughead had so many more questions swirling around his mind, but when he observed (Y/N)’s face, he saw how tired and deflated she looked.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “this is too much for you.  I shouldn’t have pressured you to tell me everything at once.”

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted, shaking her head.  “I want to tell you, I… you deserve to know.”  Jughead reached across the table, grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, and gazed at her in a manner she couldn’t quite distinguish.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did she.  They just sat there in the booth, on a quiet day in Pop’s, Jughead holding (Y/N)’s hand and she was letting him.  Without speaking, she understood what he was trying to tell her: there was nothing left to say.


For the next two weeks, neither Jughead nor (Y/N) said anything to each other.  They still went to Pop’s every night, and they sat together at the same booth.  But (Y/N) always had a book, and Jughead always had his laptop.  Frequently, when one of them wasn’t looking, the other would glance up and stare for just a moment.

On a slow Tuesday, Veronica entered Pop’s.  She was only there to pick up the food she and her mom had ordered, but she noticed (Y/N) and Jughead sitting together at a booth, and so she sped over there.

“You’re back,” she noted, sitting down next to (Y/N).  She glanced up, putting Frankenstein down, and shot Veronica a timid smile.

“I’ve been back for a few weeks,” she responded.  Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.

“Really?” she questioned, shifting her gaze to Jughead.  He didn’t look up from his computer.  (Y/N) awkwardly nodded, turning back to her novel.  Veronica glanced back and forth between (Y/N) and Jughead, waiting for one of them to say something.  “Do you guys ever talk?”

“It’s not always necessary,” Jughead replied, rolling his eyes.

“Well yeah,” Veronica shrugged, “but you guys are dead silent.  Neither of you have spoken to each other since I got here.”  When neither of them replied to her comment, Veronica understood that she was unwanted and left.

The two sat in silence for another hour before Jughead interrupted it by slamming his laptop shut.

“Okay, I’ve spent two weeks thinking about what to say,” he started, catching (Y/N)’s attention.  She lifted her eyes from her book and stared at Jughead, puzzled.  “But I don’t know.  I don’t know what to say!  How do I respond to the fact that your parents were murdered?”

“You don’t have to sa-”

“Yes I do!” Jughead interjected.  “Because we’re… friends, we’re friends.  And I’m supposed to say something to make you feel better.”  (Y/N) tilted her head sideways as she gazed at Jughead, trying to think of a reply.

“You still have a question,” she finally said, “don’t you?  And you didn’t want to say anything else because you didn’t want to tempt your own curiosity.”

“No,” Jughead shook his head, “no, I-”

“Just ask,” (Y/N) stopped him.  “Just ask me, Jug.”  He inhaled sharply, and examined her face.  There was no doubt, no hesitation; just determination with a hint of anger. Jughead sighed, giving into (Y/N)’s, and his own curiosity’s, demands.

“What’s your real name?”

Part four here

Our rogue was looking for a new, enchanted weapon.

DM: After a moment of looking around you spot a weaponsmith and head into his workshop.

Rogue: Good afternoon sir, I was looking for a new weapon.

DM as Smith: What kind d'ya want?

Rogue: (lays his old rapier on the counter) Something like this?

DM as Smith: I gotta couple o’ those. Check round there. (points to some weapon racks)

DM: There are ordinary rapiers and other kinds of weapons, nothing different from your old.

Rogue: (returns to the smith) I was thinking of something more… Special.

DM as Smith: Special?

Rogue: Yes.

DM as Smith: (moment of silent, squinted stare) My wife ain’t that kinda woman.

Rogue: Oh no, I was thinking of something special in… another way.

Fighter (ooc, imitating the smith): My daughter ain’t for sale either!

Everyone laughs

DM (pointing at fighter): She said it, not me!

Me (ooc, imitating the smith): My son, however…

Everyone laughs more

DM: I hate you all.

To Realise

A mini celebration for 2000 followers! Thanks Everyone!!!!

A Soulmate AU where they only realise they are Soulmates when they say/read/hear each other’s names out loud followed by an immediate overflowing of emotion sparking inside of them. Instant realisation.

Yoosung:

-       He was already running late. This was not the first impression he wanted to give to everyone! He was in University! He was intelligent! He knew how to set a simple alarm!

-       … in theory yes, in practise… not so much… hence the lateness…

-       It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember which lecture theatre he was meant to be in- which meant he had to stop and scan for his name at each door on the floor… four down three to go…

-       Kim Yoosung… Kim Yoosung… Kim… nope not that room!

-       When he got to the final room (because of course it had to be the final room) he managed to find his name… but his eyes were mysteriously drawn to another name, his mouth wrapping itself around the syllables before he knew what he was doing…

-       “M… MC?”

-       His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, his knees went wobbly and his head felt light and fuzzy, yet so damn clear at the same time. Yoosung stilled himself, bracing his arms against the doorframe to insure he wouldn’t fall flat on his face.

-       What was happening to him?

-       He had never felt this way before- was he coming down with something? He touched the back of his hand against his forehead and sure enough he was warm and sweaty.

-       Though, granted, it could have been because he had been running for the last fifteen minutes and trying not to burst out crying because he was going to be late- not because he was sick and dying.

-       His stomach fluttered and his mouth ran dry… no, he must be getting sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that pizza that was left over… from three days ago. He really needed to start cooking more.

-       Yoosung clamped his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe deeply, he could get through this. It was only one hour. He could do this.

-       Opening the door, the newly blonde haired student waltzed into the theatre only to have the entire room turn to face him.

-       Great. He must have been later than he thought he was.

-       Only to have them all shrug and continue on with their conversations.

-       Yoosung turned to his left to where their professor was meant to be standing, only to see it empty- the teacher was late? He wasn’t the last one to class? Finally! He managed to catch a break!

-       Running a hand through his sweat soaked hair and laughing as he wiped his palm on his jeans, Yoosung shook his head at how stupid he was to worry so much… besides, chiding himself made it easier to forget the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins.

-       It wasn’t a bad sensation, just… different. Good. Like little bubbles of pure emotion streaming through his blood. Why he felt happy and excited and nervous all at the same time…  he didn’t know. Weirdest case of food poisoning he ever had that was for sure-

-       He began to scan the rows of seats for the easiest spot to slip into and found one close to the middle just on the aisle without anyone sitting in between him and the girl on the other side, the really pretty girl laughing with her friends…

-       Yoosung pressed his blunt nails into the flesh of his palm to wake himself up from his unintentional staring. He took in a bolstering breath and psyched himself up just so he could sit down, it’s not like the cute girl had noticed him or his existence or anything. It would be fine.

-       Edging into the chair and adjusting the fold up side table he began to unpack his books and pens, only for his latest guide for LOLOL to slip out from between his textbooks.

-       The girl next to him caught sight of the bright colours from the side of her eye and turned around, her eyes focused on the cover of the magazine before they shot up to look him in the eye.

-       She was stunning. And she looked disgusted with him.

-       “Tsk, another one of those computer geeks who do nothing but sit in their dark little apartments and fall in love with fictional characters,” she sneered as her friends cackled behind her… clearly none of them had grown up any since graduating from high school. Yoosung sighed and was about to shyly excuse himself when-

-       Yeah, that’s right! We sit in our apartments and fall in love with fictional characters who still have far more depth and strength of character in one pixel than you could ever have in your entire being… Girl- did you regress into your 7th grade form over the holidays after graduating- it’s cool if you did, I’d like to study you for my psychology lab- I’ll entitle it, ‘Dumb bitch, scared and out of her league, forgets how to act like a decent human being.’ Know what? Just leave- you’re not appreciated here- we wouldn’t want to infect you with our geekiness.”

-       Yoosung turned around to see a girl with big earphones and an even bigger hoodie sitting forward giving the first (not so cute anymore) girl the most menacing glare he had ever seen, bar the ones his mother wielded.

-       The group of girls huffed and tried to retort under their breaths before packing up and moving rows.

-       Headphones girl clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she made up her mind; she slung her cross-body bag over her shoulder as she clambered over the seats to sit next to Yoosung. The girl slightly winded from her almost-argument and her repositioning, offered the blonde boy a crooked grin- one he returned without hesitation.

-       “So… LOLOL boy- you gonna let me look at that guide? I was meaning to pick one up today after class but since you have one right here…” she eluded as she quirked one eyebrow up to test if he caught her drift. He did. He handed her the guide.

-       “H-hey… thanks for before… I didn’t know what I should say, if I should say anything at all-”

“No sweat LOLOL boy-”

“Hahah are you going to call me that forever?” he asked, laughing as he rubbed the back of his neck.

-       The girl eyed him critically from behind the pages of the guide.

“Pretty much, yes.”

Yoosung chuckled as he twirled his pen through the tips of his fingers, happy to feel the earlier wash of illness and emotion wane into nothing but a sense of peace and calm.

“Well, can I at least have a name to call you? Butt-Kicking Classmate is kind of a mouthful.”

“And yet so apt-”

“Yes I understand this but-”

-       “MC. My name is MC.”

The waning was nothing but the calm before the storm, the eye of the tornado- and Yoosung was the poor cow stuck up 1000 feet in the air and she… she was the tornado. The boy sat back as he burnt up, his cheeks flaring as he bit his lip to not shout out from the sheer heat that he endured. Why did this happen every time he heard her name? Or said her name? Or even thought of her name? It was infuriating!

“What should I call you if not LOL-”

“Yoosung. Kim… Kim Yoosung.”

-       He had heard a soft gasp from behind the pages of the guide and he didn’t miss the way her hands trembled, or how wide her eyes had become. Slowly but steadily, MC drew the magazine down past her chin until her entire face was visible to him… that fluttering in his stomach, that fuzzy but clear feeling- it all came rushing back one hundred-fold.

-       “Yoosung… Kim… you say?” she asked, her once confident voice all but whispered.

-       He had never heard his name sound so beautiful.

-       “Yes, Yoosung Kim…” he confirmed with the smallest of nods of his head, watching as she swallowed some saliva and captivated in the way her throat moved as she did so. He was entranced by the way her mouth seemed to want to do a thousand different things, smile, talk, laugh, scream… so damn expressive.

-       MC clicked her tongue once more as she was wont to do when she made an important decision and put the guide back down on his desk before leaning forward, completely invading his personal space. Not that he was complaining. In fact… she could invade it more. It didn’t seem close enough.

-       “Yoosung Kim… I’ve been looking for you, for a long time,” she smiled, her warm hand resting atop his, a flash of electricity passing through their touch.

“You have? Why? I’m just me, little old Yoosung…”

-       She threw her head back and laughed and to him it sounded like bells chiming.

-       “Yes, you are little old Yoosung, but from today - you are my little old Yoosung…” she pointed out as her pointer finger booped him firmly on the tip of his nose.

“Well if I’m yours, th-then you’re mine!” he answered his chest puffing out slightly- why had he said that? When did he become so damn brazen? Was he going crazy?

“Hahaha, duh! If you’re my Soulmate then I’m your Soulmate- so of course I’m yours!”

“….. Soul… soul what?”

-       His parents had never told him anything about Soulmates, didn’t prepare him for what was to come. He was hit by a truck and completely floored.

-       The truck was named MC. He didn’t want to get up.

-       “Care to explain?”

-       MC stared at him completely dumbfounded, her mouth agape and her eyes even wider than before. She inhaled and nodded, resigning herself to the fact that the love of her life was completely innocent and that she did indeed have to teach him everything.

-       It was going to be so much fun.

-       “You see when a man and a woman love each other very much-”

“MC I KNOW ABOUT SEX I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT SOULMATES!” he hissed loud enough for the two rows surrounding them to snigger at.

“Sex? Who said anything about sex? Geez, I say soulmate and you’re already trying to get into my pants-”

“MC!” he whined, his amethyst eyes large and pleading. Of course, she acquiesced.

-       “Forever Yoosung. It means that you and me, until death do us part, no matter what… it’s me and you.”

-       He took a moment to process this, that he had literally no choice in who he fell in love with- that fate intervened and made sure that he had someone to love and someone to love him in return for the rest of his life… it was just so much to take in…

-       MC entwined her fingers with his when she noticed what she assumed was struggle painted on his face. This, he was going to have this, forever.

-       It didn’t matter that he had just met the girl, that he knew nothing about her- his body knew before he did.
He already loved her.

-       He smiled and squeezed her hand back.

-       “Okay… I think I’m okay with that.”



Zen:

-       His first motion picture…

-       He was beside himself. He couldn’t believe that his agent had managed to get him this part! It was meant for a more well-known leading man and an unknown actress but they had fallen in love with how well he had read for the part and how well his headshots looked against the actress’s.  

-       He hadn’t been told who they had chosen, it wasn’t like it really mattered at the end of the day- the girl was an unknown, fresh faced and new in the show business role. She had never acted a day in her life but the casting director had seen her on the street and she had just the aesthetic he was after- it was just pure dumb luck that she was natural at acting.

-       He had planned to talk to her at the read through but she had lost her voice and couldn’t attend… it wasn’t until they were both there for the first physical run through of the scenes that they actually met…

-       “Oh hi! You must be-”

“Yeah! You’re the actress playing MC right?-”

-       He didn’t get to finish his sentence, nor did she.

-       She was whisked off to fit some costumes and he… he couldn’t breathe.

-       The moment he said MC, his lips started to tingle and an odd buzzing sound rang in his ears. His cheeks felt flushed and his heart beat raced. He couldn’t understand… he had said that name more than a thousand times whilst reading the script, not once did he ever feel that way. It must have been her. Seeing her and her face must have just solidified his character’s feelings inside him of course. That must be what it was.

-       When she finally returned and they shook hands he could have sworn that he felt his own heartbeat beating in time with hers, palm to palm, one solid beat.

-       Damn it he needed to focus and not get too lost into the character… his character was the love-sick fool not him! He was a professional! He had only met this girl! He-he

-       … she had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

-       FOCUS!

-       He had to thank whatever it was running through his system because he had never felt more “on” than at that moment. Every line he delivered to her felt authentic and organic, like he truly meant it. Looking around it was obvious that everyone else on set agreed, absolutely transfixed on the couple centre stage.

-       He could feel every word she was saying to him like it was scripture; that every word of love and devotion that she spoke had the power to let him walk on air… and god he really wanted to try.

-       …

-       He must have been a better actor than even he gave himself credit for, making himself believe that he was already half in love with the woman in front of him…

-       He didn’t even want to stop rehearsing until the Director had called out three times for them to finish up, he was just a ball of energy and wanted nothing more than to release that through this amazing acting he and this actress were performing, he didn’t want to lose momentum.

-       He didn’t want to lose what he was feeling…

-       “H-Hey! MC! Did you want to go and get some lunch with me?” he had asked before realising that he had called her by her character’s name. He felt the blood flood his cheeks as he forced himself not to slap himself or just die from embarrassment. He couldn’t be that far gone into this role to already be thinking of her as her character… this is how idiots fall in love with co-stars… “I’m so sorry, habit, I didn’t mean to call you MC-”

“And why not? It’s my name too,” she smiled as she rested her hand on his bicep, the muscle there twitching instinctively under her touch.

-       Shit.

-       Zen was no fool. He knew what this meant. He knew, deep down, that he wasn’t that good of an actor to fool himself- damn it- he was already half in love.

-       The only half evidently. She seemed completely unaffected… unless… had she said his name yet? No, she hadn’t. Only his character’s name!

-       “How silly of me! All this time I’ve never introduced myself properly! Hello MC, my name is Zen, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he beamed offering his hand out to her.  

-       Please

-       She smiled and took his hand and laughed as he flipped it over to kiss the back of hers.

-       “Oh! Hahah- wow! Um… yes, yes it’s lovely to meet you too Zen… Zen.”

-       He watched in rapt fascination as her fingers curled around his almost painfully, how her eyes widened and how her jaw fell and closed but fell back down- as if she were trying to desperately find the words… or simply remember how to talk.

-       “So… it’s true what they say…” he trailed off as he drew her closer with a simple tug of her hand still within his, “About when you meet your other half…”

Swallowing deeply and finally blinking her burning eyes MC shook her head and took a step back, though, she did not withdraw her hand.
“What do they say?” she asked her voice trembling as much as her body was.

“That when you finally say your Soulmate’s name- nothing else in the world sounds as beautiful. That nothing else tastes as nice as the name of your Soulmate on your tongue. That the mere thought of their name is enough to bring tears to your eyes…”

-       She stared at him completely astonished by the ardent proclamations of this- stranger-

-       “No one says that,” she whispered as she licked her lips subconsciously her eyes fixated on his, content on watching him worry at the plump flesh.

Not out loud…”

“They should… So- um… lunch?” she asked finally pulling away and bringing her hand to her chest, her other hand cradling it almost tenderly, her fingers tracing the still- warm parts of her skin that he had held.

-       They talked about anything that came to mind, their pasts, their dreams, their favourite food and their mutual aversion to cats. “A cat scratched my face when I was three and although I think they’re beautiful, I just… I just can’t.”

-       Soulmates were made to be a perfect fit after all…  

-       Once they got back on set the tension between the two was so thick it was practically humming- everyone could see that something had happened over lunch.

-       During a pivotal scene, where they were about to finally separate ways forever and part with a kiss…  

-       MC was looking at Zen, tears brimming in her eyes –geez what a talent- merely four lines away from their kiss and-

-       … and she dropped her script and crossed the stage to kiss him. Completely unscripted. Completely inappropriate.

-       It was perfect.

-       “-But Director, they’re not meant to kiss yet-”

“Shhh… she’s absolutely right! The character wouldn’t be able to wait, she wouldn’t want to waste a moment with talk when these two people are all about action! Have the scriptwriters add it right away-”

-       Zen smirked as they continued to share their first kiss with more than fifty random people around them. He didn’t care, the Director was right. They didn’t want to waste another moment- and suddenly- Zen didn’t mind being one of those idiot actors who fell in love with his co-star.

-       “Okay guys we get the point, we should probably move on… guys?… guys?!”



Jaehee:

-       It wasn’t particularly easy being kicked out by your Uncle and Aunt… she didn’t have anyone… and she didn’t want to touch what little was left of her inheritance from her parents so- she figured it would be better if she found a part time job.

-       That way her mind would be occupied at all times and she could indeed earn some money.

-       Besides… working with coffee wasn’t a bad thing. Being a barista wasn’t a bad thing, even if it did mean she was practically drooling at every order she made, she figured there would be worse cons to a job… like being a slave to a tyrant who overworked you and never appreciated you- she shuddered. She never wanted to end up like that!

-       It was a particularly busy day being the first weeks of winter, everyone would run in just wanting a cup of something warm to hold to help them heat up against the chill in the air, the poor brunette was already run off her feet. She was barely even looking at the customers in the eyes as she pushed their orders across the counter.

-       Wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of her arm, Jaehee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Soon. Her own break would be soon. Just the next order to do and she would be free for 30 glorious minutes.

-       Pulling the last ticket off the machine so she could read her colleague’s sloppy writing a little easier, she memorised the order and proceeded to make it perfectly. Pouring it out into the large cup Jaehee took the receipt again to make sure she got the customer’s name right- MC…

-       She nearly spilt the drink all over herself.

-       That name. She’d seen it a thousand times before. Written it a thousand times before.

-       But this time- this person’s name… it made her heart skip a beat. It made her heart feel full and happier than it had for the longest time. It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. It made her think of a home, a real one with her and this MC.

-       All from a name.

-       Jaehee finished writing the name down on the cup neatly and carefully put the pen down. She licked her lips and inhaled and called out in a voice she hoped didn’t shake too much, “MC?!”

-       “Oh here!?”

-       Jaehee looked up to see an angel in a trench coat and beanie. Her skin kissed with cold, nose and cheeks rosy and eyes bright. Such beauty right in front of her.

“Um… may I please have my order um… Jae-Jaehee?”

-       The two women looked at each other from either side of the counter, the noise and hustle and bustle of the small coffee shop completely going unnoticed by them.

-       Jaehee pushed the cup to the middle of the bench only to be met in the middle by MC’s hand, her gloved fingers wrapping themselves around her quivering digits.

-       “I… this is…” she stammered unable to look away from the other woman’s eyes, her own honeyed irises large with disbelief.

-       She couldn’t be that lucky… to meet them… to meet her so early in life…

-       “It is,” MC answered her pink cheeks turning red as her lips curled into a stunning smile.

-       “B-but I don’t believe in-”

“I’m standing right here.”

“Nothing good ever happens to me-”

“Right in front of you.”

“I have a break now-”

“Let’s have a coffee.”

-       For the first time since she started working there, Jaehee took her break front of house… with a customer no less… and no one batted an eye when 30 minutes turned to an hour. Then an hour into an hour and a half- the girl had never smiled like she did right then; who were they to take that away from her?

-       They did however yell at her when she accidentally kept writing and calling out MC’s name for every order for the next day.




Jumin:

-       Soulmates? Preposterous. His father had spent his entire adult life looking for his soulmate, convinced that every pretty woman who batted their eyelashes at him and feigned to feel a strong connection to him (his money) was the one. This obsession with finding his Soulmate leading their family to shame and their company to ruin.

-       Well. Not. Him.

-       He didn’t believe in such nonsense. Not once did he find a woman worth spending time with let alone believing them capable to be the other perfect half of your soul. That would be the day.

-       All throughout high school he had one vapid girl after another clawing at him to say their name, hoping that he would feel the twinge in his heart and for butterflies to zoom out of his butt or some ridiculous notion like that. By the first month of school he refused to call any girl by their name and insisted on labelling everyone “Hey you there” or “Female student in front of me.”  

-       By the time he entered university, word had gotten out that Jumin Han just hated the idea of anyone being in love- because who would so vehemently refuse to even try to find their Soulmate? Who would look down on others just for trying to find a little piece of happiness? He was just an angry, lonely man.

-       Not that they were entirely wrong on that assessment… but not entirely right either.

-       Though, he didn’t let something like public opinion of him falter his course or his ideas- Jumin never thought much of other people’s talking of subjects they had no idea about. He took great pleasure it picking apart their arguments and making them sound like fools.

-       Probably why he made such an excellent debater, Captain of the team in fact.

-       In his final year of University, they were finally pitted against their rival school; not once in all the years he had been on the team had he had the chance to face off with the national champions- he was always called off to sit in with his father’s meetings or off sick; but not this time. This time he would meet them, crush them and reclaim the title for his school.

-       He had tried every avenue to find out what they could about their new Captain but everyone was on lockdown, no one would talk and all means of electronically hacking their systems to find out who they were, were completely barred. He didn’t want to cheat, it would sully his victory- no he just wanted to be prepared. Know their history, their grades and whatnot- let it never be said that Jumin Han didn’t do his homework.

-       The day of the debate arrived and sure enough familiar faces lined the opposite team- except one. A pretty girl he supposed, hardly what he would call imposing with her sweet smile and her intermittent waves to the crowd in front of them. Hardly Captain material, he’d be surprised if she was first chair… but wait- what was she doing sitting in the Captain’s chair?

-       Good Lord.

-       This was going to be too easy.

-       Jumin barely heard the announcer listing off his teammates but he paused when he heard her name. It cut through him like a hot knife through butter, seared onto his brain.

-       MC.

-       He felt nauseous, a cold sweat forming on his upper lip as his steel grey eyes raked over her smaller form.

-       She looked just as shaken as he did; her hands ringing together ripping the tissues trapped between her fingers.

-       He thought he was going to faint- what was this feeling? He mouthed her name and the feeling of illness slipped away only to be replaced with a wash of warmth? A silly tingling in his blood that seemed to be singing her name in his ears. His mouth was dry and his throat on fire, his palms lined with a sheen of sweat and his heart beating in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t understand.

-       He watched as MC calmed herself all the while keeping her gaze focused on him, her cheeking burning up the longer she stared. She ran her tongue along her lower lip and he had never been so charmed by a muscle in his life.

-       Jumin she mouthed, maybe to him, maybe to herself- he didn’t know- what he did notice however was the way her hand clutched at her blazer just above where her heart would be. She didn’t look like she was in pain but she wasn’t exactly the same grinning woman he had seen moments earlier.

-       Indeed, it seemed that Jumin could barely tear his eyes off her, he couldn’t pay attention to his teammates, he couldn’t take notes- he could only focus on her. Just how far had he fallen? Over hearing a name and seeing a pretty face? Get it together Jumin!

-       Except he couldn’t. Every time he tried to rebut an argument he would instinctively look back at the opposite team and his eyes locked onto hers and he’d be lost. Each time he’d make any headway with his points he’d want to say her name instead, and of course, everything came out all tongue tied.

-       Thankfully for him, her performance wasn’t much better, she was a blushing mess but still- a coherent blushing mess.

-       Jumin’s university went home empty handed that year after all.

-       But not Jumin, not this time.

-       He wouldn’t lose twice in one day.

-       “Hello there, good performance today.”

“You too.”

“I’m Jumin Han-”

“I know. I’m MC-”

“I heard, yes.”

-       Her teammates were calling for her to hurry up and get on the bus and she was about to call back to them but was cut off by the suddenly confident opposing Captain, “Please go on ahead- I will take MC home.” They looked at her and she in turn looked up to him and shook her head at his cavalier and brash assumption. He was just lucky it was the correct one.

“It’s fine guys, you heard what Jumin said- he’s going to take me home.”

-       The silence in the auditorium was deafening. Jumin never spoke a girl’s first name and he certainly never let someone who just met him call him by his first name… unless…

-       Jumin fiddled with the cufflinks in his sleeves trying to buy time before he had to speak again. MC picked at imaginary lint at her skirt in hopes that the man would continue his initiative.

-       “I… I don’t know how any of this works… in fact until about an hour ago I was certain it was all a farce,” he admitted his eyes firmly fastened on her right shoulder, “but if… if it’s really what it seems like is it- what it feels like it is- I would like the chance to understand it all. Understand everything about you.”

-       MC smiled, even if she wasn’t his Soulmate, after that heartfelt speech, she would have bribed the stars themselves to realign just so she could be.

“I don’t know how this works either- my mother told me it might happen one day, to just pray it would just happen before I got married to someone else who I thought was my Soulmate… is it… I mean… you felt it too? When you heard my name?” she questioned her eyebrows arching up as high as they would go. “The pull? The need to keep saying my name over and over again? Tell me it just wasn’t me.”

-       Jumin’s lips quirked to the side in an amused smirk, this girl was adorable. She could have asked to have his heart out on a platter and he’d have freely offered it, but all she required was the confirmation of his budding feelings from him.

-       Just too easy.

-       “I did. I feel it now. I have no choice but to believe in all this-”

“Prove it.”

“Uh…how?”

“Scream my name out into the audience, let everyone hear it! Let everyone hear the name on the tip of your tongue, the name that your heart beats to now!” she goaded him, an excited grin on her face.

-       Jumin stared at her in shock- again another easy request… he didn’t care what people thought of him after all. Shrugging nonchalantly Jumin opened his mouth to swallow a gulp of air more than ready to scream out her name-

-       Only to have two delicate hands cover his mouth and a giggle that was not his own reverberating on his chest.

“Damn it! I didn’t think you’d actually do it! You’re crazy! I believe it, I believe you!” she guffawed, burying her face against him, her body heat and laughter seeping into him and offering a warmth that he had never felt before.

-       He liked it.

-       He wanted more.

-       “So… perhaps it wouldn’t be out of line for me to ask you out to dinner?” he asked looking down at the crown of her head.

“O-Of course not!”

“Tonight?”

-       The tentative slip of her hand in his was answer enough for him.



Saeyoung:

-       He was a good, diligent worker and that was all that mattered to the Agency.

-       He barely ate, he barely slept, barely did anything but exist and work.

-       The perfect agent.

-       Then they brought her in.

-       606.

-       Quiet and withdrawn but brilliant. She could code almost as well as he did and she could hack into places faster and without a trace better than him. She slept less than him. Ate less than him. Was less than him.

-       She wasn’t going to survive, she would burn out and become useless to the Agency and she would have to be disposed of.

-       … and even as far as he had come, as low as he had gone… that didn’t sit right with him. He chose this life, but someone that hollow did not. Someone that broken had been torn away from a good life, a happy life.

-       He imagined her having younger siblings who missed her, parents who searched the streets with her picture in hand begging for information, friends who no longer spoke to each other because the memory of her haunted them.

-       He wasn’t going to let the agency steal a life that didn’t belong to them.

-       It all started with innocent emails; just him asking how she was, sending her funny jokes or pictures, bantering and bitching about work in such a way that no one would be able to crack down on them for… make her smile. Make her strong. Don’t let her break.

-       606 soon became the life of the office… which didn’t say much because it was literally just him, her and Vanderwood in the small room. She was laughing and smiling and radiating joy- her work improved… the Agency was very happy.

-       707. Stay back tonight. Help me with an assignment?

-       Of course, 606, whatever you need.

-       That night when Vanderwood had finally gone past his threshold of exhaustion, the older man peeled himself off the chair and bid “the children” goodnight.

-       She kept typing, she kept on finishing her work for another 20 minutes as he sat there dumbfounded as to why she had asked him to stay back when all she was doing was literally more work. That was what tomorrow was for!

-       He was about to pack up and leave when she threw him a piece of paper.

I’m leaving. Tonight. Come with me.

-       He looked back up at her, there was nothing on her face to discern that she even sent him the message- or even blinked.

“So… you in?”

-       Of course, 606, whatever you need.

-       He nodded. She kept typing.

“Come and see me in my room then?”

-       Aahhh, so that’s how she was going to hide it- she was going to pretend they were going to sleep together. That was something he often found weird in the Agency- they didn’t care or discourage the formation of relationships between agents- probably believed if you got attached they could always use the partner as insurance or worse, incentive.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in there.”

-       When he arrived she was in full combat gear, she was ready to fight her way out if needed. They went over the plan over and over again, whispering directly into each other’s ears so that not even the bugs in their rooms could pick up what they were saying. Also with occasional moan or shudder it seemed like they were just making out.

-       Her room was just above the route the laundry trucks would ride out from and she had managed to make contact with one of her friends from the outside- come midnight she, they, would jump down and escape this hell hole. They only had one chance to do this- the other agents on duty would notice a paused truck and would respond immediately.

-       The clock ticked by and before they knew it, it was 11:59 and the faint rumble of an engine could be heard, the soft hiss of the brakes beneath her window.

-       “In case I die,” she uttered, her face stoic and unmoving, “I want you to know- my name, it’s not 606. They wanted me to forget but I will never forget. My name is MC.”

-       It was like a punch to his chest, the sound of her name. It ignited something in him that he never thought he would have the chance to feel, to experience. Not there. To find her there amongst all the sin and evil that they do, he knew how to spot a miracle when God sent one.

-       “You’re not going to die MC, I promise,” he replied as he held her to him in a bone crushing embrace, “I promise.”

“Your name, 707- if I die, I want to know your-”

“Didn’t I just say that you weren’t going to die MC?” he chuckled as her helped out of the window, “I, Saeyoung Choi, promise you.”

-       The look on her face as she said his name would have been enough to take him to his grave. To see her face light up with joy and surprise as if someone had turned on a light inside of her, that would be one of his most treasured memories.

-       His sharp ears caught the sounds of rushed footsteps down the hall.

-       He pushed her roughly before she was ready and heard a loud snap of something when she fell onto the truck. MC was bowed forward, holding onto her right foot that had landed awkwardly and bent inwardly- her face contorted into silent screams.

-       Saeyoung made the sign of the cross as he backed away from the window to do a run up. God please- I just found her- don’t take her away from me.

-       He landed beside her, coiling his arms around her protectively as he laid her down to see the damage to her ankle- it was bad but nothing that some doctor couldn’t fix.

-       He beamed down at her, cupping her face tenderly…

-       As he tried desperately to ignore the barrage of agents chasing after the both of them.

-       Saeyoung gently caressed her features with his fingers, desperate to feel everything under his touch, etch it into his mind.

-       “You lie down here and keep safe okay? I’m going to go and hold them off-”

“No! You can’t do that! They’ll torture you to death!” she cried sitting up, screaming out in pain as she accidentally moved her foot. He shushed her, looking forward to see that they were nearly clear of the base… she was so close to being free.

“Shh, shhh- it’s okay MC. It’ll be okay. I promise,” he reassured her, his eyes crinkling so much that little droplets of tears dotted his auburn lashes.

“No it won’t be-”

“I’ll find you. I promise. I’ll find you.”

“Saeyoung!”

-       He jumped off the truck and refused to allow himself to look back at her- if he did, he would never be able to leave her side.

-       MC ignored the searing pain rushing up her leg to twist her body to watch her Soulmate’s noble sacrifice. One man, two, twelve men on him… he had no chance.

-       “Saeyoung!” she croaked, her voice stifled by her despair.

-       You promised…

-       707: WAIT

        Yoosung: Why?
       
        Zen:??

        707: Think someone entered the chat room;;

        Jumin: MC…?

-       Saeyoung smiled to himself as he traced the location and turned on the camera.

-       Promised I would find you.

 



Saeran:

-       He had been searching for months under her orders. Months and no one was right. He was about to give up hope, that he would have to send in one of their own to infiltrate the damned RFA… but then she appeared.

-       Like a gust of wind on a scorching day or the breath of air coursing through starved lungs- she blew into his life and turned it upside down.

-       He would follow her and watch her from afar. He would tap in and listen to her conversations- not because he was interested in what she was saying- he just wanted to hear her voice.

-       Her friend was laughing on the other line, “Oh… MC… you’re too much!”

-       Saeran fell to the floor, his knees smarting from the hard concrete. No- NO!

-       He crawled underneath his desk and curled up into a tight ball, his arms hugging his knees as he lightly rocked back and forth. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, made him jittery and on edge. No- he was warned against this. Was told that if he ever felt this that it was wrong, that he should only love the Saviour and their cause. That the call of someone else was evil, that it was the work of the corrupted

-       But he was already corrupted, no matter how many times they drugged him and made him try to forget- he knew he was… but MC-

-       She was perfect, absolutely perfect.

-       Unfortunately, the Saviour agreed.

-       It was hard to have something of your own in Mint Eye, something private, something sacred.

-       He had to get her back.

-       They had sent her to infiltrate an organisation full of desperate and lonely people- the most kind and innocent person sent into a den of wolves to feast upon. He had to save her.

-       He was frantic, he sent her conflicting messages- wanting to scare her away from Mint Eye but wanting her to stay away from them- especially Saeyoung. If any of them saw even half of what he saw in her… they would steal her away.

-       Finally the Saviour said it was time to claim their prize back, that since he was so good he could take her for himself- keep her safe himself. He was so happy. But when he got to the apartment, as he scaled the building and broke through the window to reach her… she was not as happy to see him.

-       She was screaming. She was backing away from him. She was afraid.

-       He couldn’t think straight- this wasn’t right. She was supposed to be happy to see him, to come with him willingly. Wasn’t that what Soulmates were about? The moment he knew her name-

-       That was it… he knew her name but she didn’t know his… to her he was…

-       “I’m from Paradise. You don’t know this but you were invited too… I know it took some time for me to come for you… now let’s go together… you look scared, don’t be. I won’t hurt you… endless parties, overflowing love, joy without pain… I’ll save you… You invited someone? Maybe… Luciel Choi?”

“MC- Are you hurt?”

“I-I’m fine!”

“I… I don’t know who you are… but let go of her!”

-       No. Not Luciel. The actor. The pretty one. Of course she would fall for the pretty one.

-       “No.” She’s mine. She’s meant for me.

“If you don’t, I’ll have to use force to protect my girl.”

I don’t want to do this.
“You move a single inch, you see this switch here? I’ll press it.” I won’t.

“What do you want?!”

-       The truth then.

-       “To escape this place safely with the RFA planner… If you don’t want to activate the bomb you better stay still. Just watch as I take… “your girl” and disappear.”

-       The pain in his arm paled in comparison to the ache in his heart when she pulled away from him to run into the arms of another man. Away from him. Always away.

-       Never his.

-       Meant to be his.

-       “My name… My name was Saeran.”




V:

-       It was the school for the rich and gifted.

-       Some more rich and others more gifted.

-       Most loved it there. Some merely tolerated it.

-       One person hated it.

-       Brought in through a scholarship to show how the school was “giving back to the community”, bringing in the charity case and parade them around like their latest trophy.

-       Well this trophy didn’t like the case she was put in. She didn’t like the people who thought they could polish her up and make her shine to their standards. She didn’t like them at all.

-       Especially those that shone the brightest- it hurt to look at them, like the sun- blindingly beautiful but dangerous.

-       None shone more so than V.

-       Pfft.

-       Who the hell named their child V? What pretentious jackass does that?

-       Wasn’t it enough that he went strutting around with his best friend, waving and talking to the more common folk? Wasn’t it too much that he went around taking photos of people and landscapes and saying pompous things like “everything is beautiful and everything is art?” Wasn’t it over the top that he had the gall to act all sweet and kind and look like some sort of bronzed Greek God? WASN’T IT?!

-       MC breathed in trying to calm herself. For the better part of the last six months she had spent it running, hiding and keeping her distance from him. He seemed hell bent on seeking her out and trying to talk to her- well she wanted nothing from him! No help! No charity! No pity! Just to be left alone.

-       During a study period, she was cornered by none other than that trust fund kid’s best friend, super-mega trust fund kid the first, Jumin Han.

-       He chose the desk right next to hers although almost every other desk was available, which only meant he wanted to speak to her.

-       “Why do you hate V?” he asked so bluntly she was surprised by it. She sat up from her prone position laying along the desk and twisted slightly to face the man to her left. She propped her head on her hand and gave him a long, pointed stare.  

-       “I… I don’t know. I just do. From his perfect hair to his perfect persona to, god even his name pisses me off! V! There are just some people that you’re not meant to get along with and he and I are obviously not meant to be besties,” she huffed as she rested the front of her torso back down against the desk, resting her chin atop her crossed arms.

-       “I told him,” he clicked his tongue as he shook his head ruefully, crossing his arms like a disappointed adult to a child… or small pet. “I told Jihyun that you were certifiable. Who hates someone just because of what they can see? Without even getting to know them?”

-       Her fingers dug into the worn wood of the table beneath her.

-       Jihyun… now that was… that was a name she liked. Her breath escaped her lungs as she whirled around so fast she almost lost balance on her seat. That name made her feel soft and fuzzy and loved- she had never even met him and she was already in love with him. Jihyun, a good and noble man who wanted nothing more than to love and care for the woman he loved and to be loved and cared for in return. A man who would make them such horrible breakfasts on Sunday when they were married that they would inevitably go out and eat at a restaurant- yet he never stopped trying. Because he loved her and one day he wanted to get it right. A man who would stay in and read the paper to her as she lay in between his legs and slept on his chest- he wouldn’t even move at all for fear she’d wake or be disturbed.

-       She loved that name.

-       Her heart beat faster and suddenly she couldn’t control her extremities, her legs were bouncing up and down in excitement and her hands unsure of where to place themselves, every place awkward compared to the thought of her hands being linked with his. It didn’t feel right- to be on her own, not now she knew his name.

-       “Who?” she meekly asked the ebony haired prince next to her. He was fiddling with a loose thread on his blazer sleeve, pulling at the strand until it came out completely. “Jumin- who?” she repeated hoping that her insistence would be enough to show him how important it was for her to know who this man was.

-       He gave her a perplexed look, thoughtful eyes glided over her form as if he were trying to ascertain whether she was joking or not. His eyes widened and his mouth pressed into a thin line when he quickly realised that she wasn’t asking in jest, she was completely serious.

“Jihyun… Jihyun Kim is V’s real name. The man you so ardently hated?” he answered, his mouth twitching up into a wry smile.

-       Damn it.

-       MC violently pushed herself back from the desk with both hands before she started running to the last place she had seen V- Jihyun. He was entering the dark room just as she was heading to the study hall. The light was on meaning he was developing something… she should be patient…

-       … but all those months… all those wasted months- how could he forgive her? She didn’t know but she had to try!

-       The light flicked off and she knocked, waiting for him to call out that it was okay and that she could come it. She slowly opened the door and closed it behind her.

-       Less than five steps away was Jihyun, pulling down some developed photos.

-       He was right. Everything was beautiful. Everything was art.

-       He was art.

-       And she was just some dumb pedestrian trying to look at the piece and critique it without having all the history and facts behind it, not knowing the mastery it took to create it. The love that went into it. Fool.

-       He turned to her and she swore that the blue of his eyes was just that little bit bluer, the tone of his hair that much deeper and his lips, full and perfect and so ready for her to kiss she couldn’t believe there was ever a time she wanted to slap his smile off. Now she’d do anything to keep it there forever.

-       What’s in a name? Everything. What did Shakespeare know?

-       “I… I’m so sorry,” she cried, prostrating herself in a deep bow.

-       Startled, V set aside his print and pulled the bowing woman up and forced her to look at him.

“What for? I’m not aware of anything you’ve done that would warrant an apology,” he replied good naturedly, his kind smile warming her to her bones.

“I have been terrible to you and only because… for some unknown reason- I couldn’t stand your name. What it stood for, what you seemingly stood for,” she confessed, her cheeks burning under the harsh lights.

-       V reached behind her and turned on the dark room red lights once again- to save her from embarrassment.

-       “I know- it’s okay MC, you don’t have to explain. I know my name is the problem,” he admitted with a careless shrug. MC gawked at him, how could he know? How could he possibly know?! “I’ve known since the first day when I felt the bond but you did nothing but run away from me- I knew that my name was faulty and that although you may be my Soulmate- that I simply was not yours.”

-       All this time, he thought he was the problem. That she didn’t love him because his name was faulty, that he was faulty.

-       Her heart shattered and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She almost ruined this man, she continued to pile hurt upon hurt on him and now there she was telling her how much she loved him… well… that was what she wanted to do, whether or not she could do it not was the other question.

-       “No… I… I was just stupid. I thought your name was V, not Jihyun. There was nothing wrong with your name- there is nothing wrong with you. I… just, wanted to let you know that. You’re amazing. You’re perfect and I want to get to know you, just as you are.”

-       Even in the dark, the brightness from his smile could be seen.

-       “You do?” the hope in his voice evident, taking the first steps to close the gap between them.

“I do. I want the chance to know the real Jihyun,” she beamed.

“I would love nothing more than that, MC,” he replied, encircling his arms around her body.

-       Well what do you know, they were a perfect fit.

2

Carry On Epilogue

“I was eleven years old, and I’d lost my mother, and my soul, and the Crucible gave me you.”
“It made us roommates,” he says.
I shake my head. “We were always more.”
“We were enemies.”
“You were the centre of my universe,” I say. “Everything else spun around you.”
“Because of what I was, Baz. Because of my magic.”
“No.” I’m nearly as frustrated as he is. “Yes. I mean, Crowley, Snow—yes, that was part of it. Looking at you was like looking directly into the sun.”
“I’ll never be that again.”
“No. And thank magic.” I sigh forcefully. “The way you were before … Simon Snow, there wasn’t a day when I believed we’d both live through it.”
“Through what?”
“Life. You were the sun, and I was crashing into you. I’d wake up every morning and think, ‘This will end in flames.’”

-Carry on by Rainbow Rowell 

(see all my snowbaz gifs)

So, @thepsychicclam posted this, and then this happened:

Stiles listened to the latest musicians that Derek had brought to court to play for him with a wide smile and a thankfully small amount of hand movements. They were, as all the artists that Derek presented to him with startling frequency and fervor were, wonderfully talented, and playing a piece that had been commissioned just for him.

Sometimes, Stiles thought that his husband’s gifts and ever increasing support of Stiles’ interests might mean that his own feelings of deep abiding love may be returned by his king, but in his more reasonable moments he knew his love was unreturned. Derek had always been a generous and attentive man, even as a child he would allow Stiles to choose their activities and humor him in his frequent schemes. When Stiles proposed that they sneak into the castle kitchens to steal some of their favorite cakes, Derek rolled his eyes fondly (“They’re my kitchens, Stiles! And yours as well!” “Yes, but we aren’t meant to be in there now, silly!”) and acquiesced with enthusiasm as they tiptoed around the halls and into the pantry.

The head cook had found them covered in icing and failing to contain their laughter.

Thinking of it now brings a warm glow to Stiles’ chest even as it sets off a cascade of similarly joyful memories of growing up as Derek’s best friend. They were so close that Stiles had never considered that he would marry anyone else, though when he was old enough to understand that he was in fact Derek’s intended, the betrothal sent a panic through him. How could he ever think that a union with a man he loved so deeply, but could only look upon him as a dear friend, would bring him anything but heartache?

In the end, Stiles had decided that life without romantic love but with Derek by his side was far better than life away from the man who reigned in his heart.

Sitting now, beside his husband, ensconced in ornately carved thrones with soft velvet cushions, Derek’s arm resting close enough to his own that he can feel the warmth radiating from him, seeing his friends in court smiling and enjoying the music created just for him, Stiles knows he’s exactly where he wants to be. Even Boyd and Isaac, their usually stoic guards appeared to be enjoying themselves, though each man was regarding their kings with indecipherable looks.

Stiles takes a deep breath and turns to his husband only to find Derek looking back at him, a smile curving his lips in a way that still makes Stiles’ heart flutter. He can feel his own grin widen in response as Derek’s eyebrows raise in question. “Are you pleased, my dear husband?”

Stiles’ heart stutters then gallops at the thoughts that assail him, all the ways he’d like to please his king, the oft imagined looks of pleasure he’d like to paint upon Derek’s beloved face. He must get lost in thinking about how Derek’s skin would feel beneath his hands, because Derek’s brow furrows in concern. “Stiles? Is something the matter?”

“No, my king,” Stiles hurries to reassure, “I was simply trying to decide how best to tell you how perfectly lovely this evening has been thus far.”

Derek’s smile is so bright it puts the castle’s chandeliers to shame, and Stiles feels an elated pride bubble in his chest.

“I am exceedingly happy to hear you say so,” Derek says genuinely, the radiant smile still in place and the corners of his beautiful eyes crinkling slightly. The way Derek looks at him then, his entire regard focused on Stiles and the force of his honest joy makes Stiles forget that they are a couple bound by duty and friendly affection. It makes him believe for a moment that they share a love that will inspire artists for decades.

It emboldens him, and he places his hand over Derek’s, suppressing a shiver when Derek moves ever so slightly so that his thumb can run lightly over the outside of his pinkie. “I am exceedingly happy that you are exceedingly happy,” Stiles teases.

After another long moment simply getting lost in watching one another, a particularly evocative piece of the song draws Stiles’ attention and he turns to see how those gathered to dance interpret it. He can feel Derek still watching him, and it turns his smile small and private as he ducks his head briefly. Derek’s hand is still warm and real under his own, and as the evening stretches into night, it remains there, tapping the occasional rhythm against Stiles’ hand, their fingers eventually entwining.

Neither dares acknowledge it, but neither do they pull away. When it is time to applaud, the lost contact is nearly unbearable. When their hands automatically settle back together, Stiles feels like he’s soaring.

In Defense of the Misunderstood Hero, Mori Ougai

I’m sure many would raise eyebrows when they read the title because, Mori? A hero?

Many people portrayed Mori as a sadistic devil, but in no canon situation has Mori ever shown any sadistic tendency (like Dazai has). In fact, I’d say he’s the reverse of that. He took care of Elise very well, despite/even though she’s his own ability. He never once has hurt people for the sake of hurting people.

In fact whenever he didn’t have any business to take care of, his true personality shone through and it was not of a cold, heartless man with no conscience. Rather it was one full of dorkiness and gentle patience. Here, he even contacted Ango (who was sweating bullet because holy shit he’s being called by the fucking boss of Port Mafia) just to ask what color of dress will fit Elise more.

(For the love of anything holy I’ve scoured Ango and Oda’s tag in tumblr yet I can’t find it. It’s the extra DVD comic featuring Buraiha trio drinking and talking shit about Mori. In exchange, have these dorky dad and son interacting;

First thing first, I will give you what I think is the most important fact about Mori. Look at his line in this scene

Now this is his true nature; his main motivation for doing everything he did. The good of the organization.

At no point has Mori’s action ever benefit only himself. At every instance he appeared in the story, he’s doing something for the Mafia and for Yokohama. The only self-centered thing he has ever done was asking Elise to wear what he wanted her to wear and that’s moot point anyway since she’s his Ability and presumably modeled after his ‘ideal’ little girl.

In this scene, he saved four members of ADA and even gave Atsushi an important lesson. Why would he do such a thing when he could literally immobilize Anne and Lucy by bloodlust alone? He could have let her take Tanizaki and Atsushi, then pressure her to let him out with his memory intact. Not to mention that his Ability, Elise, was waiting just outside, standing by ready to break him out any time.

If he does this, not only he will go free with the memory of the attack and thus the secret of Anne’s Room, he would also take care of not one but three ADA agents. Rather, he chose to save all of them plus every single person Anne has swallowed in the Dark Room.

Now here;

This is the scene where he took over as boss. The fact that the Old Boss was bedridden and hallucinating while seemingly so thin, also from the way he was narrated by Hirostu in episode 21, implicate that his condition was something he contracted at a long period of time rather than it being something sudden.

Notice the circumstance in which he did it. Mori only killed the boss after he issued the order that would bring destruction not only to the Mafia but also to the city and nation at large, killing many people whether criminal or innocent. He didn’t do it before even though he could have.

By becoming the biggest bad of the bad, he resolved himself to take care of the light from the shadows. And this is important because if he hadn’t stepped in at that time either the Old Boss would have burnt Yokohama down or another heinous criminal would have taken over and brings the nation down with them.

He is protecting Yokohama by not letting people worse than him to take control of its biggest criminal organization. Notice what Kouyou think about him;

She supported him because of this too. She knew what it felt like to under one of those leaders that cared only for money and power like the Old Boss. Kouyou will not support people if all they brought with them was suffering and death the way she was forced to feel when her dearest was taken away from her. Under Mori’s reign, our queen Kouyou pledge her loyalty not to him but the kinder way he brought.

It can also be seen in this scene.

Mori could have taken effort to keep Kouyou there, but his tone and body language are open. He knew that Kouyou can go anytime and he’s not fighting to keep her there; Kouyou decided to stay on her own free will and he is appreciative of knowing he had a single ally he can absolutely trust on who also knew of his true motivation.

In this scene

It was made clear that he respect the Old Boss, so much that the death of a hundred subordinate made him embarrassed.  He’s not upset that he lost some underlings, he’s upset that he lost them without a good reason to justify their death. A miscalculation has taken a hundred of his soldiers.

And you might think his reaction to this is rather cold, but remember that all of them were members of the mafia. All of them are criminals who would be executed if they fall into the hands of the police and they also knew what they’re getting into when they joined the Organization.

You can probably say what he did to Odasaku was horrible, sure. But it was expected for the boss of the Mafia to do so. (further reading for this topic)

But you have to admit it was a stroke of utter genius. With the gifted Business Permit and no longer fearing the government, Mori would be freer to take down opposing criminal organization that might bother the peace. Rather, he focused the Mafia to expanding its power and outwardly he did so, like this there will be very little chance for either a rebellion or an enemy organization attacking them in their HQ. This would also mean less threat to Yokohama.

Fukuzawa’s remark in this was absolutely true. Not only between the two organization but also for him and Mori specifically. Mori loved Yokohama, enough to dip into the darkest of dark to protect it. And Fukuzawa knew it too because look at his line here

In this, it can be said that he didn’t want a war to break in Yokohama that might disturb its peace. But then why say ‘balance’?

This is because Fukuzawa knew the extent of his subordinate’s strength also that they will be able to kill Mori if they go all out. This is what he feared the most. While if he died, the Agency can be well-taken care of in Kunikida’s hand, once Mori’s dead there’s no one to reign in the Port Mafia and keep it from wreaking havoc, thus destroying the balance of Yokohama city into what it was before; the Dragon Head Rush. (you might want to read the novel of dark era to really grasp the situation. But basically it was a gang war that led to many victims including the families of Odasaku’s orphans)

More than that, the people who might succeed Mori would not be as kind as him. They might do what the Old Boss did and try to burn Yokohama down.

And this, I think, is also the main reason why Mori sent Dazai away from the Mafia. It is, of course, easy to assume what Dazai remarked about Mori’s intention in chapter 30/episode 21 to be the truth; that he did it to remove a threat to his position.

But is this the whole story?

The fact that he kept Dazai’s spot empty rather than choosing someone else to fill it was a paradox if you were to look at him from the angle of a man hungry for power. He has anticipated Dazai’s return, was so sure of it in fact that he sacrificed monetary and workload gains of having another Executive. If he wanted Dazai back in the first place, then why drive him out of the Mafia and into the ADA?

For now, imagine what would have happened if Dazai took over as the Boss if he’s still the same man he was before Oda’s death. Cruel, ruthless and uncaring for people’s life as he was, he would have gone into the same track as the Old Boss and destroys Yokohama as his mental health eroded. Not even Odasaku would be able to save him from himself at this point.

This is also why he asked Dazai back to the Mafia after taking such extreme methods to drive him out. Of course there are another reason, that is he needed his right hand back to drive out the Guild as he remarked.

But the main reason why he asked back after all this time was because there are people in ADA who have taught him about having something worth loving and worth protecting.

Mori felt that Dazai has learnt enough about the light and why it is something worth protecting. With it, when Dazai inevitably take his seat as the Boss of Port Mafia, Dazai would be able to follow his legacy as the Darth Vader of Bungou Stray Dogs and The Dark Knight of Yokohama. This is Mori’s special way of grooming Dazai to become his successor.

All this was so Dazai can be his successor and not the Old Boss’.

Conclusion for those who are too lazy to read 2000+ words of Mori being awesome: no, Mori is not an evil incarnate born to manipulate everyone to his own amusement.

If anything, he’s the greatest hero of the story. The same way the ADA is protecting the city and Japan from the light, Mori is protecting it from the shadows. With the balance that has been made between him and Fukuzawa, it is imperative that he keep doing what he did, or the balance will fall and Yokohama condemned into a lake of fire.

Asagiri Kafka is truly an exceptional writer. They made Mori into this all-bad boss of the Mafia while slipping in his real face every so often. Here is the author who made every character complex and with their own motivation. What made you think they’ll make the ‘villain’ as simple as a man existing just to be a villain?

Even Fitzgerald and Fyodor got development and reasoning for doing what they did, but the difference is they’re arc-villain and not whole story-villain like Mori. Their reign will be over with their arc, but Mori’s will live as long as BSD continues, so it’s imperative that they got their development and exposition early on so the readers can sympathize with them.

Thus I concluded my exposition of the anti-hero that has been protecting Yokohama all this time not by bathing in sunlight but by submerging himself in blood yet capable of keeping his head out of it depth; Mori Ougai.

Have another of my founders headcanons

In relation to this post

OKAY, SO. LET’S HAVE A TALK ABOUT HELGA HUFFLEPUFF. BECAUSE. I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO SAY.

Here’s the thing; in my head, Helga Hufflepuff has always been a soldier. Yes, she’s kind and fair, but she also knows when a good hex or a punch in the face is the only solution. This does not happen often. She’s friendly and accepting and patient. But when someone threatens her friends, or her family, or her students, that someone better be prepared to have her wand aimed at them. Or better yet, a sword. Use what you know and all that, and while she’s great with her hexes and curses and even some charms used in a way her old mentor would definitely not have approved of, there’s just something incredibly satisfying in meeting someone sword to sword. She and Godric spars every now and then, though it’s clear he’s more of a dueler than a soldier. But Helga. Helga joined the war when she was 15, and she never regretted it. It was grueling, and it was painful, and she watched so many of her companions fall. But she joined for a reason – to protect (her family, her little nephews and nieces and all the children of her village) and to, one day, try and change the world enough that war wouldn’t be necessary. She fought for years, rising in rank as fewer and fewer of her friends were left, and she refused to give up. This was for the children. This was for the future.

When she was 23, she became general. And at 24, the war finally ended. And then she had to find something else to do.

She went back to her village, to the little houses and fields and her family. And for a while she was content, but not for long. She wanted to do something, because that was the reason she joined the war in the first place. For change. She wanted peace, and quiet, and a place to call home. But when she had it, she realized she only knew how to fight. And she was not going to accept that.

She went to find her old mentor, an aging wizard who kept forgetting his wand in odd places but who also knew a lot of spells and had more magical books than she had seen anywhere else in her life (later, when she met Rowena Ravenclaw and saw her collection, she would stare at it for ten minutes and then just go “nope” and walk out of the room). She asked him to teach her as much as he could. What he’d taught her before she left for the army was useful, but if she was gonna change the world she needed more.

He listened to her, listened to her reasons and her dreams and then he sat her down with a cup of tea and started talking about magical theory. Most of her went over her head. She listened anyway.  And she kept coming back. And when she realized how many children he’d helped out through the years (her among them), she asked him about that. He started spouting even more magical theory. And she kept listening. And when it was over and he said he couldn’t teach her anymore, she knew more about accidental magic and magical cores than she thought possible. And she was satisfied, because this was what she needed to know. Something that could help. Something that could change a life, or two, or a hundred, if you only had the people to teach it to. This was for the children. This was for the future.

And then she met two wizards and a witch, constantly bickering and joking and everything in between. And the wanted to start a magic school. Of course she went with them. It was the purpose she had been looking for. It was a way to do what she’d always dreamt of.

They started planning how to do it, and moved into Godric’s family castle up in Scotland. As they decided to split the students into four groups, Helga started to get irritated. She had spent half her life fighting a war, she knew that you couldn’t always get the brave or the smart or the cunning. You had to use the resources that were available. Anyone could become a good soldier (or student, she supposed) if they were trained properly. 

She was a general, and she’d take anyone who wanted to learn. She was a soldier, and she’d take anyone who would work hard, because that’s all you need to change the world. She was a 15 year old girl who joined the army, and she remembered what it was like when people judged you for your bravery, for your intelligence, for your strength. She was a 26 year old veteran, and she would punch anyone who said you couldn’t learn because of something as stupid as who you are. In the face. They’d deserve it, for implying that her students weren’t good enough.


@egdramaqueen I said it “needs a bit of polishing” which apparently means I sit here and write another 700 words into it in less than an hour, so here it is. I finished it.

Picture Perfect - Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Title: Picture Perfect

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3,652

Warnings: None

Prompt: I got it! Can you do a fic where Sam dies while (Y/N) is pregnant with his child and so Dean helps her raise the child and they live the apple pie life and right when Dean wants to propose to (Y/N), Sam returns to life & ANGST. Please and thank you

“Mary!” Dean shouted “Breakfast’s ready, come on!” he said loud enough, hoping the little girl was going to hear him.

“Yes daddy!” she said in her childlike voice as she ran down the stairs. Her brown curls were bouncing as her green eyes sparkled with happiness the moment she spotted the food that lay on the table.

“Pie!” she exclaimed and the man chuckled at the girl.

“Yes princess!” he placed the last pancake on the place and put the frying pan away. He leaned down and picked her up, giving her a big kiss on the cheek as the little girl giggled at him.

“And it’s your favorite!” he said with a big grin and she squealed.

“Apple pie!”

“-Which you are not going to have for breakfast.” you said with a strict – but loving – mom look.

“What?” she pouted “Why?”

“Sweetheart.” you said softly, taking her from Dean’s arms “Pie is not right for breakfast and you know it. We’ve said you can have pie whenever you want to- as a treat. You will have to eat your meal first.” you said, tucking a few brown curls behind her ear.

“But daddy eats pie all the time- even for breakfast and you let him. Why can’t I?” the four-year-old gave you those puppy eyes that could actually do you anything they wanted.

Keep reading

2

Accepting that you’re always second in the line of affection-

…or 10th if you count each dog.

Still working on giveaways, decided to post this old doodle I did when I first introduced Garbage the alley chihuahua lol ;p

anonymous asked:

Hey! From that huge au list that you said you were accepting prompts on, could you possibly do stucky, the "I hit you with my car and I'm the only one who visited at the hospital, you okay?" with steve being the one hit by the car? It's a sick day for me and it feels like I've exhausted all good fanfiction... you're my only hope!

“Which flower arrangement says ‘I’m very sorry for running you over in my car’?” Bucky asks into his phone, frantically looking between an arrangement with tulips and an orchid.

There’s a long pause, then Natasha asks very level, very calm, “James?”

“Yes?”

“What did you do?” she asks in that same, calm voice.

“I RAN SOMEONE OVER WITH MY CAR,” Bucky yells. “I JUST SAID THAT.”

“Excuse me sir,” says the little old woman shopping next to him.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for yelling,” Bucky says. “I’ll be quiet.”

“No, no, dear, that’s not the issue,” she says.

“Oh, then am I in your way?” he asks.

“No, it’s just that I’m about to leave the store, and drive home. I’m hoping that you’ll give me a few minutes’ head start before you leave, too.”

He nods and smiles at the old lady, then goes back to his phone. “I wish I were dead,” he says, still smiling.

“Daffodils are nice,” Natasha says.

— —

It’s probably presumptuous to go visit the guy you hit with your cat in the hospital and Bucky’s pretty sure that if his insurance company knew about Bucky going over there they’d be pissed, but you can’t just run someone over with your car and not visit them in the hospital. That’d just be bad form.

Bad form like not stopping all the way at a stop sign and grazing the pedestrian who is crossing the street.

He knocks on the door. “Uh, hi,” he says, looking at the guy laying in bed.

The guy sits up a little, then winces. “Hi,” he says. “You lost?”

“No, at least… I don’t think so. You’re Steve Rogers?” The guy nods. “Okay, well, I’m Bucky Barnes and I maybe sort of hit you with my car,” he says, hiding behind the bouquet of daffodils a little. He peeks out from behind it. “Sorry about that,” he adds.

The guy snorts. “Believe it or not, it’s not the first time I’ve been hit by a car,” he says, “and you just tapped me.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even be in here if it weren’t for my pre-existing conditions.” He perks up a little. “Are those for me?” he asks, looking at the flowers.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, walking forward towards the bed and holding the flowers out to Steve. “They are! They’re… daffodils.”

“I’m horribly allergic,” Steve says, grinning. “Gimme.”

“But you’re—“

“Already in the hospital,” Steve says, taking the flowers and smelling them. The yellow looks nice with his soft blond hair and it’s kind of cute when his thick black frame glasses slip down his nose while he sniffs. “Wow! These are great.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Bucky says, trying not to blush because the guy he ran over with his car is really stinking cute.

“Thanks for coming,” Steve says.

“Oh, uh,” Bucky says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It was the least I could do.”

“I’m I the hospital so much that my friends don’t even notice at this point, so it’s nice to have some company.” He’s still holding the flowers, and looks down at them again like he can’t believe he really has them, and Bucky wonders why his friends wouldn’t come visit him in the hospital when he is obviously the most adorable dork in all of New York City. He looks back up at Bucky. “You want some pudding?” he asks. “I have some extra.”

— —

Two years later and Steve feeds Bucky a spoonful of pudding. “Yum,” Bucky says, smacking his lips together.

“I can’t believe you convinced the caterers to serve pudding,” Steve says, grinning.

“You know how some couples have special songs or places?” Bucky asks.

Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says.

“Well, our dessert is pudding,” he says.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you,” Steve says.

“And I still can’t believe that you agreed to marry some guy who ran you over with his car,” Bucky says.

Steve shrugs. “You didn’t have enough money to be worth suing,” he says. “And,” he adds, “you only grazed me.”

Bucky grins, leans in and kisses his new husband.

“And you grazed me with your love,” he says. “Same thing.”

“Not at all!” Steve squeaks and Bucky laughs and around them their friends and family dance awkwardly to a mediocre DJ and they’re husbands now, and Bucky will never, ever, run over anyone else for the rest of his life.

Got7 reaction to crush actually being younger than they thought.

Anonymous said:Can you make a GOT7 reaction to realizing that his crush is younger than what she looks like physically please? Idk like she looks like 20 but is actually 17

FOLLOW, LIKE, RE-BLOG, REQUEST.

JB: He heard she was sick, so he thought he could come by her house and surprise her with a get well soon card and some soup. On his way there, he was stopped by some teenagers getting off the school bus…among the teenagers, there she was. *In his head* Isn’t she sick…..wait why the fuck she getting off a school bus…she better be the damn bus driver.

Originally posted by nyeong-ing

Jinyoung: *Hears her state her age* Trying to process what the fuck was just said.

Originally posted by soulmatesjjp

Jackson: You know when your so upset about something, you find it hilarious…that’s him. “Wait so she’s how old?” 

Originally posted by ilovejackson

Mark: *In his head* …….You have to be kidding me right now, she’s 17…..fuck my life .

Originally posted by jypnior

Youngjae: finds out your age. Jinyoung: “How you feel? You was crushing on a youngin you perv”

Originally posted by pinkhoodiemark

Bambam: “Well glad I ain’t fall in too deep”

Originally posted by chattyang

Yugyeom: Snap out of it ! Get your head back into reality. Yes, you heard right, she is 16. No, you can’t go back to being 16 boy.

Originally posted by jongdabae

FOLLOW, LIKE, RE-BLOG, REQUEST