#everything I see of them backstage is so Old Married Couple and it cracks me up

[mith-gifs-wrestling]

Kevin is one of the best on the mic, but the look he gives Sami here may be more eloquent than any promo he's ever done.

[serenade-meow]

Paul/Jane excerpts (within the context of Beatles’ details)

MEETING THE BEATLES:

On 18 April 1963 Jane did a photographic assignment for Radio Times at a concert called ‘Swinging Sounds ’63’ at the Albert Hall... When the Beatles came on stage she screamed. Jane met all four Beatles backstage – apparently all four were very impressed by her – especially George, it was alleged later – but she got on better with Paul. They were seen in public together for the first time shortly afterwards and from then on Paul was continually asked whether he was going to marry Jane. Paul even made fun of this in ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ when answered ‘No, we’re just good friends’ even before the question was asked.

— Richard Porter, Guide to the Beatles London

They invited her back to their hotel, the Royal Court in Sloane Square, before moving on to the Kings Road apartment of Chris Hutchins, a journalist.

The others left Paul alone in the bedroom with Jane, after a lot of winking. They set the evening talking about gravy and what was their favourite meal. ‘I realized this was the girl for me. I hadn't tried to grab her or make her. I told her, “It appears you're a nice girl.”’

‘They couldn’t believe I was a virgin,’ says Jane.

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles

[John’s masturbation comment]

Previously John, Paul, George, and Ringo had hoped to end their evening at the Ad Lib club, a celebrity hangout that had lately become a favorite late-night stop. But as the throngs of girls outside continued to wail, they realized they had better stay out of sight. [Chris] Hutchins invited the entire group back to his apartment King’s Road in Chelsea, so off they went, with two girls in tow…

Whether it was her cool confidence or her posh accent, something about Jane goaded John to direct his caustic eyes in her direction.

“Well. Let’s all play a question-and-answer-game!” He announced a bit too cheerily. Then he turned to Jane. “So tell us, luv, how do girls play with themselves?”

Silence. Jane’s eyes widened. Paul, sitting close to her on the floor, put his hand in the air, as if he could wave John’s words back into his mouth. “John! John!” he yelped. “Stop it. You can’t do that.”

John just smiled, peering intently through his glasses. “No, you can tell us. Come on. We all want to know, come on.”

Paul, looking aghast, shook his head vehemently. “John. For christsakes, John.” 

By now Jane was climbing to her feet, muttering icily that it had grown quite late, clearly it was time to go. Paul stood, too, glaring at John while he helped Jane into her coat, saying he’d see her into a cab. The pair of them walked outside quickly, the door clicking behind them. It was late by then, already after midnight, and the dark London air was thick with fog.

The cultured, self-possessed Jane Asher may have intimidated John Lennon, but she was exactly what Paul had been looking for. When Hutchins looked out the window, he saw the Beatle holding the actress’s arm, walking into the midst. “And he never came back,” Hutchins says. “I just saw both of them disappearing down King’s Road.” 

— Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life 

RELATIONSHIP:

[Paul on status]

Living in the Asher house gave me the base and the freedom and the independence. That, alongside all the other things, because I wasn't married to Jane. I was pretty free. I remember John very much envying me. He said, 'Well, if you go out with another girl, what does Jane think?' and I said, 'Well, I don't care what she thinks, we're not married. We've got a perfectly sensible relationship.' He was well jealous of that, because at this time he couldn't do that, he was married with Cynthia and with a lot of energy bursting to get out. He'd tried to give Cynthia the traditional thing, but you kind of knew he couldn't. There were cracks appearing but he could only paste them over by staying at home and getting very wrecked. 

— Paul McCartney, Many Years from Now

[Jane’s concerns]

That’s typical Paul (wanting me to stay inside the George V Hotel with the band instead of going out by myself to see Paris). It’s just so silly of me to stay at the hotel. It’s just that he’s so insecure. For instance, he keeps saying he’s not interested in the future, but he must be because he says it so often. The trouble is, he wants the fans’ adulation and mine too. He’s so selfish, it’s his biggest fault. He can’t see that my feelings for him are real and that the fans’ are fantasy. Of course, it’s the trouble with all boys. When I first met the Beatles, I liked them all. Then, when I found out that I liked Paul more, the others became angry with me.

— Michael Braun, Love Me Do! The Beatles Progress

[Image wise, George didn’t stay angry with Jane, there’s several cute candid photos of them looking rather peaceful.]

[London Life]

The socially omnivorous Beatle profited from his Asher connection when the world wasn’t watching, too. For now Paul had entree into the cloistered world of old money… So many secret rituals to learn, so many hands to shake and stories to hear. “It was stuff happening that I’d only ever read of in books,” Paul said. “An overhang from Britain’s genteel past.”

John, stuck out in his golf-course home with his wife and a toddler son whose emotional needs he could never quite fathom, envied his partner’s more fast-paced urban life. Though the three suburban Beatles and their wives weren’t exactly stranger to the London nightlife, Jane clearly set a very different standard. “Jane was a teenaged film star so she was part of the glitterati of London before the Beatles even appeared,” NEMS employee and Beatle wingman Tony Bramwell recalls...

If the other Beatle couples bumped into Paul and Jane in London on a night off, Bramwell continues, it was usually a night club such as the Ad Lib or the Scotch of St. James. “Paul and Jane would be there, probably with some strange people. So you’d have a drink, and that’d be it. They’d be off.” 

— Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life 

[The Turtles run into Paul, John, Jane, and Ringo] 

Inside the speakeasy, all the girls looked like Twiggy, the iconic pixie-haired waif model whose London fashion had taken the world by storm. We must have walked past fifteen look-alike on our way to our next destination and we actually heard the Beatles before we saw them. It was like being in A Hard Day’s Night. 

“Aw, come on John. Leave the candles alone. You’re gonna start a bloody fire in here.”

“I can’t see anything down here, Paul. It’s as dark as a hooker’s heart.” 

And then, a female voice.

“Please, Paul. Don’t humor him anymore. This is getting ridiculous. I’m going to leave.”

Graham led us around the corner, where the Fab Four were hanging with their dates at a private table in the back of the room. Well, actually it was the Fab Three — George Harrison was not in attendance. The deal was, Lennon was actually under the table taking Polaroid pictures up the skirts of his female companions while Paul lent a hand. Ringo laughed at everything, and Paul’s then girlfriend, Jane Asher, was doing her best to drag him out of there. Dressed in Carnaby Street’s finest, the Beatles were dimly lit, and a halo of light illuminating their mop-top hairdos added just the right ambience to make this already bizarre scene more surreal. 

Paul was ducking under the table himself now, helping his business partner illuminate the proceeding with his disposable lighter, and Jane was searching the booth for her coat as we approached them, with Graham in the lead.

“I’ll be leaving now, Paul,” Jane said through clenched teeth as she pushed her way out of the booth and stood there, staring him down.

“Hi, Jane.” Graham was friendly but she didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

“I’m going home, Paul. And I don’t mean your home.” She made her way toward the exit as we walked up in a pack. Jim Tucker actually grabbed her army to stop her en route.

“Hey, Miss Asher. Hi. My name is Jim Tucker and I worked with your brother.” He extended his hand, only to have her push him away.

“Piss off, wanker!” Jane just blew him off and brushed past us on her way out of the club. Jim stood there examining his hand for a long moment.

“Hey, guys,” Graham greeted as Paul frantically scrambled to his feet.

“Jane! Jane! Aw, come on, baby. We’re just having a little fun.” Jane kept walking. 

— Howard Kaylan, Jeff Tamarkin, Shell Shocked: My Life with the Turtles, Flo and Eddie, and Frank Zappa etc.

[Vacationing and songwriting — Yesterday]

McCartney played it so often on the set of The Beatles’ first movie, Help!, that director Richard Lester once threatened that he’d throw the piano off the set if McCartney didn’t complete it. Lennon tried to help his pal with the song, but this was entirely a McCartney joint. Lennon's only contribution was the suggestion that the song title just be one word, but beyond that, he was just about useless.

After months of struggling with the creative process, the lyrics suddenly came to McCartney in a very unlikely (and very inconvenient) place: driving down the winding hills of Portugal, where he was on vacation with Jane.

“It was a long hot, dusty drive,” McCartney told Miles. “Jane was sleeping but I couldn’t, and when I’m sitting that long in a car I either manage to get to sleep or my brain starts going. I remember mulling over the tune ‘Yesterday,’ and suddenly getting these little one-word openings to the verse.”

McCartney and Asher were going to stay as guests in the vacation villa owned by his friend Bruce Welch, who was also a musician. When they made it to the villa, McCartney rang up Welch and asked him if he had a guitar. Luckily, there was an acoustic guitar in the house, which made the arduous songwriting process just a bit easier. It took two more weeks to nail the lyrics… and then there was more waiting to do.

— Jordan Zakarin, “Paul McCartney Came up With the Melody to One of the Beatles' Biggest Hits in His Sleep.”

[Thoughts on marriage]

“I enjoy acting. I didn’t want to give that up.”

“I know now I was just being silly,” says Paul. “It was a game, trying to beat you down.” At various times, one of them wanted to get married but the other didn’t. Jane says it was usually something happening with the Beatles, just when it looked all settled, which made her change her mind. Paul says it was her acting, although he agreed when the big tour of America came up that she had to go on that. 

“When I came back after five month [tour], Paul had changed so much. He was on LSD, which I hadn’t shared. I was jealous of all the spiritual experiences he’d had with John. There were fifteen people dropping in all day long. The house had changed and was full of stuff I didn’t know about.”

His life is much quieter and more ordered now, since Jane returned. Paul, unlike the others, is very communicative about himself. He does talk everything over with Jane. She knows what he’s thinking.

“Another problem,” says Paul, “was that my whole existence for so long centered round a bachelor life. I didn’t treat women as most people do. I’ve always had a lot around, even when I’ve had a steady girl. My life generally has always been very lax, and not normal. 

“I knew it was selfish. It caused a few rows. Jane left me once and went off to Bristol to act. I said okay, then leave; I’ll find someone else. It was shattering to be without her.” This was when he wrote “I’m Looking Through You.” Jane has inspired several of his more beautiful songs, such as “And I Love Her.”

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles.

[Chasing after Jane in Bristol] [Writing Eleanor Rigby] [Busy]

The other three Beatles had already moved out into the London suburbs, with lush gardens and rolling lawns, while Paul was in the heart of London in an old period house. When I complimented him on the house, and admired his possessions, he said: ‘People think we are not conceited — but we are’.

I then got him to explain where the words of Eleanor Rigby had come from… The name which first came into his head was a woman called Daisy Hawkins, ‘picking up rice in a church where a wedding had been’. He had no idea where that line had come from. In Bristol, where he had been visiting Jane Asher who was acting there, he was walking round and saw the name Rigby on a shop, and thought that would be a better name.

— Hunter Davies for the Daily Mail 

[Magical Mystery Tour]

By 1967, McCartney was making experimental films, and he traveled everywhere with his video camera. While filming Jane Asher at Denver’s Civic Center Park, he was struck by an idea. It combined the randomness of his amateur films with the stories of the Merry Pranksters that he heard during his time in San Francisco and the mystery charabanc tours that took vacationers from Liverpool to Blackpool on a bus filled with beer and accordion players. Maybe the Beatles could create and film a mystery tour of their own.

— Scott Freiman, “Magical Mystery Tour: Some “Mysteries””

[India]

Brian Epstein’s death was a heavy blow to Jane. She, too, found comfort in the Maharishi: She went with Paul to Rishikesh and felt the experience to have been rewarding. With LSD banished, their understanding returned. Paul, at long last, made ready to commit himself. They announced their engagement at a McCartney family party on Christmas Day, 1967. 

— Philip Norman, Shout! 

[India]

When they got engaged on Christmas Day 1967, all these problems were in the past. Maharishi for a long time was the only little point of difference, although it was all amicable. Jane didn’t fall for him when the others did. She said that she and Paul together reach a spiritual state on their own. Paul wasn’t as committed as George and John, but still felt there was something there which would help him, which might answer his questions. 

The questions he’s referring to are about the purpose of life, not about the Beatles. Paul has some well-worked-out views about the Beatles, their changes, and the future. 

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles

BREAKING UP:

[John starts bringing Yoko to studio — meets Jane?] [Paul reacting] 

Fully aware of the enormity, John implied it was just a one-off visit, because Yoko had been depressed and needed cheering up. ‘I had no idea what he’d told the others,’ she would remember. ‘I couldn’t understand why they kept asking me if I was feeling better.’ It being unthinkable for Lennon to enjoy a privilege that McCartney didn’t, Jane Asher soon afterwards found herself invited to her first Beatles recording session in five years with Paul. As his relationship with Jane began to peter out, he took to bringing along Francie Schwartz, the New Yorker working in Apple’s press office who’d recently caught his eye.

On 17 July, John once again showed off Yoko–now no longer dressed in shapeless black but tailored white–at the London premiere of Yellow Submarine. That evening, very noticeably, Paul had no Jane doing her usual royal duty beside him.

Three days later, on the BBC’s Dee Time program, she told host Simon Dee she was no longer engaged to Paul and that their five-year relationship was over. ‘I haven’t broken it off but it’s broken off, finished,’ she said. ‘I know it sounds corny, but we still see each other and love each other… but it hasn’t worked out. Perhaps we’ll be childhood sweethearts and meet again and get married when we’re about 70.’

— Paul McCartney: The Life by Philip Norman

JOHN: So it was always the family thing, you see. If Jane [Asher] was to have a career, then that’s not going to be a cozy family, is it? All the other girls were just groupies mainly. And with Linda not only did he have a ready-made family, but she knows what he wants, obviously, and has given it to him. The complete family life. He’s in Scotland. He told me he doesn’t like English cities anymore. So that’s how it is.

MCCABE: So you think with Linda he’s found what he wanted?

JOHN: I guess so. I guess so. I just don’t understand… I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted. I knew I wanted something intelligent or something arty, whatever it was. But you don’t really know what you want until you find it. So anyway, I was very surprised with Linda. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d married Jane Asher, because it had been going on for a long time and they went through a whole ordinary love scene. But with Linda it was just like, boom! She was in and that was the end of it.

— John Lennon, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

“I've always felt wary including Jane in the Beatles’ history. She’s never gone into print about our relationship, whilst everyone on earth has sold their story. So I'd feel weird being the one to kiss and tell.”

— Paul McCartney, Anthology 

I've never particularly liked the idea of looking back; I'd rather look forward.”

— Jane Asher 

[whole-lotta-hoes]

Whole Lotta Hoes| Crack Fanfic Mini Series

Episode One: Zeppelin Is No More

Episode Two: Looking For A Job

Episode Three:

Episode Four:

Episode Five:

Warning:

This will cause you to lose a couple of brain cells and question your sanity. It will include a shit ton of weird shit and things that don't make sense at all. Do not read if you are not ready for any of this, read at your own risk.

Cast:

John Paul Jones (Main character)

Robert Plant

Jimmy Page

John Bonham

-------------------

Led Zeppelin is a band apparently. It's just a bunch of horny mother fuckers put together to make songs about sex. John Paul Jones was laying in bed with Robert Plant which he has no idea how that happened. He hoped nothing weird went down between them cause Jimmy Page would be so mad. oh jesus oh god you do not want to make that mother fucker mad. He'll literally turn you into a cheeseball and eat you. John got out of bed only to see that John Bonham was standing in the corner eating swedish fish gummies. He was not going to question it.

"Want some?" Bonzo asked him and he held one in his hand.

"I don't know you what the fuck!?" Jonesy yelled. He went to the baffroom and spotted jimmy trying to swim inside of the toilet. He believed he could do it if he tried hard enough.

"the oil supply demand is sky rocketing these days!" jimmy yelled as he got out of the toilet.

"Bitch do not touch me with your boo boo water," He warned him as he grabbed a toothbrush to use as a weapon. He learned how to make a knife with it in jail.

"Penis guitar playing is totes fun jonesy, you should try it," jimmie added. Oh mother fucker he is a heterosexual lad. Or that is what he said the other day when he ate some of robert's caramel popcorn. man he wondered how he even ended up in that stupid band. who's led and why does he have a zeppelin? you know some guy named their kid zeppelin but he claims that he didn't name him after the band. wait what were we talking about?

The band all decided to head to mcdonalds to eat happy meals. jimmy tickles.

"Guys! oh my god you will not believe it but britney is such a slut! ugh! can't believe she left me for a fish lookin' mother fucker-"

"No one gives a rats ass about your weird horny ass!" jimmy cut him off by yelling at robert. God damn that shithead has a huge ego but a small dick. Jonesy never understood why people liked him so much. He once stole his favorite pair of jojo siwa socks and claimed he never knew he owned any.

"You motherfuckers we're supposed to be going on tour!" Bonzo yelled as he swooped the food off the table.

"suck my asshole bonzo!" jim yelled.

"calm down pagey, he's just a meanie," robert added as he patted his head.

"y'all need to start realizing that no one likes you both!" jonesy snapped.

"shut up you're literally ugly and small and the bassist of led zeppelin and you look like heman with that stupid haircut of yours" Bonzo said as he ate jonesys burgers. damn that hurt.

"You know," jonesy began, "i don't need this job"

"what job?" robeet askes.

"shhhhh let the weirdo speak," jimmy said as he stuck his finger into his mouth.

"without me you will all suck asshole and no one will actually like led zeppelin," he explained.

the three slowly looked at each other and began to laugh their asses off at him.

"You act like you matter so much," robert added.

"shut up cheese cream! you're literally big and ugly and you look like you are 50 years old!" bonzo said as he drank his milk. that was funny. Jonesy felt his blood boil and grabbed his happy meal and stormed out.

-

It was the day of their shit concert. led zeppelin were backstage preparing to cause a dismother and set things on fire. preferably roberts underwear that pretty much doesn't exist in this case. the band stepped on stage and the crowd went wild.

"hello bananas-" That motherfucker fell forward into the drum set. oopsies. jimmy ran to him to make sure his hoe isn't dead or alive. fucking bon jovi.

"oh shit! robert plant is down!" he yelled. jonesy was absolutely done with them. they are nothing but a bunch of dumb fucks who ruin everything. He took out his laser penis and shot jimmy and robert to death.

"oh Motherfucker has a fucking laser pp! hija de su pinche madre!" jimmy yelled as he split in half. robert died again. bonzo just sat there blown away by the fact that that john paul jones just killed the front man and the guitarist of Led Zeppelin in front of millions of people. he was impressed.

"holy shit man you really-"

nope sorry but jonesy shot him too so he died. damn he could've let him live. meanie. oh wait im writing this so i could've.... ah man im too lazy to go back and fix it. too bad we're going with this plot now. Jonesy stepped off the stage and headed to the back.

"god dammit i hate everyone in this bloody world," he said to himself. he decided to hit the pub that was nearby to enjoy himself.

As he was sitting at the counter drinking something that is an alcoholic beverage. he began to spark ideas of what he could possibly do since led zeppelin died. He thought about starting a whole new band but he remembered that what caused him to kill led zeppelin. that was out of the shopping list for walmart. next was to steal money from the bank so he remains rich but he then realized that he is a famous musician and will get recognized quickly. fuck. he then thought of changing his hair to look less like heman cause that insult hurt.

"aha!" he shouted. He finally thought of something that could get him a shit ton of money. He drank the remaining drink from his cup and ran out of the pub.

-

he put on a thicc line of eyeliner, red lipstick, a black wig, fish nets leggings, high heeled boots, and earrings. oh man this is going to be hella great. His wife walked in to see what the fuck this small ass mothertrucker was up to this time. oh man i shat my pants.

"sweetie what the fuck are you doing!?" she yelled. Jonesy turned to look at her.

"led zeppelin is no more," he responded. She was so confused and wondered how the fuck she even ended up marrying heman. she had no idea what led zeppelin is no more meant and was hella concerned for his health.

"be back in a few days," he added as he broke his ankle trying to exit the house and rolled down the hill. oops it's not up the hill anymore. guess you could really say he went down hill. i hate myself so much. he walked down the sidewalk and ended up in someone's house. Motherfucker it's jimmy page's house. he stole his nice trousers or whatever those were. my teacher walked by as i wrote that btw. turns out they don't fit him cause jimmy is also a big hoe and jonesy isn't. shit. jimmy is embarrassing asf. that was pointless of him stealing so he stole his underwear. wait he wears those? imma look it up hold on. i didn't find anything about that so im just going to assume that he doesnt.

there was a picture of jimmy when he was with the yardbirbs and golly that is one ugly Motherfucker! he stole and stuffed it into his underwear. he got out of the house full of useless shit that he did not need at all. Then he forgot what he was doing. Jonesy continued walking down the street only to break his other ankle and rolled down the steep pathway. damn he's one dumb hoe bitch.

-

His laser penis was out of control. he just wanted to have a little me time but instead shot a whole through the wall of the motel be was staying in. god dammit. he removed his pp and switched it out with a normal pp. that's odd. his plan of overthrowing led zeppelin stressed him out. what else do you do when you're stressed? well can't say cause i ain't gotta peener. he got so bored. his days of not being in led zeppelin have been lame and was the worst idea he could even come up with. he didn't know what to do know. he can't just eat your grandma over and over again. he looked at himself through the mirror and oh my god I'm a sexy Motherfucker oh yeah bitch im THE BITCH. he needed to find something that'll keep him entertained for while.

babysitting was a bad idea. he got bitten by a bunch of goblins and gave him rabies. god i hate kids.

"hello motherfucker," jimmy said.

"OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD DAD SHOES PENIS PLANT! I THOUGHT I KILLED YOU THE OTHER DAY!" Jonesy yelled as he jumped over the couch.

"Nah bitch that was just my twin brother Jamie Patricia Page," He added. "Bitch why are you dressed like a stripper?"

Oh yeah he forgot that was what he was going to do once he killed led zeppelin. he still can but now there's a little bitch with him named james patrick page.

"we should kill robert plant," jimny suggested.

"Bitch i already killed him, you're a little too late you duck whore," he responded.

turns out he didn't actually kill led zeppelin but instead killed their twin brothers.

"You want to overthrow led zeppelin into the trashcan?" Jonesy asked. "Thought that's what you and bert wanted to do...."

"Nah man.... percy is a very stupid penguin and is meanie.... he stole my jojo siwa socks," jimmy explained.

ah damn turns out robert plant is the villain of the story and should be died. he is too powerful. his hair will slice the fuck out of anyone.

"You got a plan?" Jonesy asked.

"i say we steal his pants and burn them and use them as an alternative to oil," he explained. damn science class. then this guy named bonzo showed up and began to beat them with his drum sticks.

"BONZO CALM THE FUCK DOWN! AHHHHHHHHH!!!" james yelled.

"sorry but robert said to beat you both with them!" bonzo yelled back.

jonesy dug through his pants and took out a bunch of swedish fish gummies.

"hey look! fish gummies! come and get it boy!"

"bitch what the fuck I am not some stupid dog for you to be doing that time of shit you small Motherfucker heman lookin hoe short shit," bonzo said.

"GIMME GIMME OH SHIT!" he attacked Jonesy.

jimmy page the god of led zeppelin stood there watching while cheering them on fight fight fight! it got in here so he removed his trousers and threw them at bonzo which ended up knocking him out.

"oh shit! your pants are powerful! we can use it to kill percy!" Jonesy shouted.

"NO! JIMBERT MUST GO CANON!" Jimmy yelled and jumped out the window. all you heard was splash. that motherfucker jumped into the pool and is now wet. that's a disturbing image. Jonesy rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever the fuck he was doing. it all of a sudden got really bright outside. oh the sun came out cause it was cloudy. but wait! Jonesy looked out the window and spotted robert plant heading towards him.

"IM THE GOLDEN GOD-" that motherfucker fell inside of the pool and sizzled. cual pinche golden god ese no mas anda haciendo puros desmadres y estupideces de mario.

that was the end of led zeppelin.

[21stcenturyhope]

PJM // Sweet Dreams

Park Jimin

summary: people met their soulmates through their dreams but your situation just got a little more complicated

genre: slight angst, fluff ending

length: 1.3k words

notes: this is an alternate ending to the Jimin soulmate AU I wrote, here. thanks @eyajoon​ for the request! 

You sat by the purple river beneath the cotton candy trees. Food was sprawled out on the picnic blanket as you waited for Jimin to meet you.

For almost a year now, you had been meeting Jimin in your dreams. At first, you had thought that it was just another random, normal dream. But as he began to frequent your dreams more often, you recognized the dreams for what they really were - it was how all soulmates first met each other.

Soon enough, the dreams became a nightly occurrence. You couldn’t wait for night to fall so that you could see Jimin again. In these dreams, his voice rang out clearly and his touch felt real.

The two of you learned quickly though that any attempt at sharing your location or contact information was instantly forgotten the next day when you woke up. Coincidentally, during a stressful time at work, you also discovered that taking sleeping pills prevented you from meeting Jimin in your dreams at all during the night.

So, you treasured the little time you had with Jimin each night. Only fate would determine when the two of you could meet in real life.

“Y/N!”

You looked up to see Jimin running towards you. You couldn’t help the smile that came to your voice. Too excited, you got up and ran to meet him halfway. When you finally reached Jimin, you took a big leap right into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your lips met in a heated kiss which seemed to never end. When the two of you finally broke apart, he let you back down gently and rested his forehead against yours.

“Is it crazy to miss you so much even though I just saw you last night?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you giggled.

The two of spent the remainder of your shared dream lying leisurely by the river with you occasionally feeding Jimin grapes. The two of you happily chatted about how your days had been, relishing the sweet opportunity to be in each other’s presence.

Suddenly, the ground beneath you began to shake and the sky split in half with a loud, echoing crack.

You woke up with a start.

An uneasy feeling began to settle in your stomach. Your dreams with Jimin had never ended so suddenly nor so violently. What if something happened to Jimin last night in his sleep?

You shared all of your concerns with your roommate over a cup of coffee that morning.

“Hmmm… I get why you’re worried, Y/N. Just try to focus at work today and go to bed early tonight when you come home. If he doesn’t return to your dreams tonight, then you really have something to worry about.”

You nodded in agreement but that queasy feeling stayed with you all day.

~

Contrary to your roommate’s advice, you were unable to focus at work today and you were relieved to finally be home. As you were brushing your teeth while getting ready for bed, your roommate appeared behind you in the mirror.

“Y/N! My uncle managed to get me tickets and backstage passes to BTS! Tell me you’ll come with me,” she pleaded.

“That’s the group you’ve been into lately, right?”

“Yes, a glorious group comprised of the seven most beautiful men I’ve ever seen.”

“Prove it,” you teased after spitting out your toothpaste.

As if she was already prepared, your roommate whipped out your phone and began to name off the members.

“That one is Jungkook, he’s talented in everything he does. And that one’s…” Your breath hitched as your eyes landed on the last member your roommate was introducing.

“Jimin…”

“Wow, even you’ve heard of Jimin. Gorgeous, isn’t he? It’s a shame that he has a girlfriend now.”

“What?” You felt like you had just been run over with a truck at your roommate’s revelation.

“Yeah, the media reported on it just a couple weeks ago before leaving for tour. He was seen with some female idol from another company. They were even looking at engagement rings. But we can still admire his beauty up close, what do you say? Will you go with me?”

“Sure… I’m going to head off to bed first though, okay?”

After tucking yourself beneath the covers, you reached over to your bedside table to grab the bottle of leftover sleeping pills you had. After learning about his potential fiancée, you weren’t quite ready to face him just yet.

~

The day of the concert finally approached. You had taken sleeping pills every night since you first learned Jimin was part of BTS. It wasn’t only because you were unwilling to see him but you also had trouble falling asleep at night due to your heartbreak.

You hadn’t told you roommate who Jimin was to you, afraid to ruin her happy mood. So, you quietly followed her backstage where the two of you waited to meet the members. One by one, the members began to file into the room. Your roommate excitedly greeted them while you could only muster a polite smile.

“You’ll have to forgive Jimin,” Namjoon was telling your roommate. “He’s always late.”

Your heart clenched painfully and you could feel your breath shorten when you realized you’d finally come face-to-face with the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. Panic set in and you grabbed your roommate by the arm to get her attention.

“I need to leave,” you whispered into her ear. “Jimin… he’s him.”

“Oh, Y/N…” your roommate’s eyes clearly expressed her sympathy. “I’ll go with you.”

You shook your head, indicating you wanted to be alone. Muttering some excuses to the members, you rushed out of the room with your head down. Before you could make it out the door, you collided into what seemed like a hard surface. A pair of arms caught you before you fall backwards.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Your whole body stiffened. You could recognize that voice anywhere. You had waited over 365 days to hear it in real life. You gave into temptation and looked up at Jimin. His features were just as beautiful as they were in your dreams.

“Y/N?! Oh, thank god! I thought something had happened to you when our dream ended and you didn’t come back for several nights.”

Jimin was tearing up as he pulled you into a fierce hug, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

“Y/N?” you heard Hoseok whisper. “Like the Y/N?”

“We’ll give you guys some space,” Taehyung said as he ushered everyone out of the room.

When the two of you were finally alone, you slowly extricated yourself out of Jimin’s embrace. Confused, Jimin reached back out for you but you took a few steps back away from his reach.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I’m sorry if I’m a little overwhelming but I’m just so happy that fate has finally brought us together…”

His act of ignorance wasn’t cute to you and the next words out of your mouth were said in anger.

“Cut the crap, Jimin. I heard that you were looking at engagement rings with another woman.”

Rather than try to defend himself or become upset, a wide smile stretched across Jimin’s face.

“You mean this ring?” He pulled out a velvet box from his pocket that contained a stunning diamond ring.

“That girl was someone I used to train with at my old dance academy. She came along with me because I wanted a second opinion.”

Slowly, Jimin got down on one knee.

“We’ve spent the last year trying to find each other, Y/N. I knew I didn’t want to waste another moment when I found you. So, I bought this ring on the off chance that if I finally met you, I could ask you to marry me. What do you think?”

Tears filled your eyes as relief flooded your heart.

“I think you should ask me already.”

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

Dropping down on both knees so that you were level with him, you cupped his face as you pulled him in for a long-awaited kiss. When you finally broke apart, you gave him the answer he was looking for.

“In case you didn’t know, that was me saying yes.”

[airis-paris14]

Redemption 9

A/N: It’s back!! I know this took forever and sorry if thi chapter sucks, but it’s kind of a bridge into the middle part of the series. Things are gonna be a little fluffy as happy for a while. So enjoy it.... while it lasts.

Summary: One person, a secret, and and ocean tore them apart. Six years later, they find their way back together. But a rekindled love is not Redemption.

I knew she was safer away from your father!”

“You had no right!”

“I had every right!”Isha shot up, her finger centimeters from the king’s face. “T’Challa if someone had told you what your father had done, you would not have believed them. You idolized that man with every bone in your body. You sang his praises with every breath you took.”

“I loved her!” His fist slammed into the wall where he stood. His shoulders dropped allowing his head to slide down against the wall.

“Then you should be glad she got away from him,” Isha hissed, “he wanted her to abort the baby T’Challa.”

“No!” The king roared, the fire turned a new in his eyes.

“She was made to leave because she insisted on telling you. Insisting that she was keeping her son.”

“My father would never-“ the king began. “You’re father should never! Just like he should never have killed his brother,” pause. “But he did T’Challa. He should never have done a lot of things. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t do them.”

“My father knew how much I wanted a family!” The king argued. “He knew how much having a family would distract you from your training. Jeopardize your favor with the people!” Isha insisted.

“Family makes you stronger!”

“But family is your weakness! The same as it was his!”

Silence filled the room. “He broke every moral law for you. He lied to the woman he married. Lied to his son. The same way you would do anything for Aiden and you’ve only met him three days ago.”

“I didn’t-“ The king began. “I know, there was no way around it. But you are here now.”

“I know it’s down here somewhere.” A voice traveled down the stairs. Preluding it’s owner entry into the living room. Zari rushed excitedly into the room. Her parents in tow. “What are you looking for?” T’Challa stood joining her hectic rummage through the desk. “My photo albums,” she shut the drawer. “Aiden’s baby pictures?”

“Yes, but mine as well. Graduation photos, my portfolio…” she quickly moved to the other side of the desk. Check the bottom drawer. That’s where you kept everything else.” The king kneeled beside her. “Of course!” She quickly pulled open the drawer. She removed the box of letters before pulling the prized items out from under it. “You are a genius!” She pressed a kiss to cheek in excitement.

Plopping down on the couch, she pulled T’Challa down beside her and cracked open the first album. The pages slid open. The scratch of plastic filling the room. In the glossy photo case Zari stood on an old ferry. An infant Aiden strapped to her back. smiling as the Statue of Liberty loomed in the background. “This was shortly after I met Melanie. She convinced me to go explore the city.” Zari explained quietly, gently turning the page. The page displayed various other pictures of She and Aiden around the city. In some Melanie appeared at their side. She flipped another page and their she was. Sitting in her bed with Aiden. The baby wrapped in a cloth, Zari’s skin glistening with sweat. Her eyes were wet with tears as her new baby boy gently gripped her finger.

The various pictures from that day included the midwives and Melanie. The latter aiding the mother to be in pushing. T’Challa quickly wiped a tear from under his eye. Various other pictures of Aiden graced the pages that followed. From school programs to birthdays. Days in the park and backstage photos from shows. The past six years of Zari and Aiden’s life flashed before T’Challa’s eyes. Zari passed the book to her parents and cracked open Aiden’s baby photos. “He looks just like you Zari smiled. Slowly turning the pages. “He does,” he smiled. “He looks exactly like me as a baby .”

“I’ve never actually seen your baby photos,” Zari glanced up at him. “That’s something we will have to fix isn’t it. Maybe when you come back to Wakanda?” T’Challa grinned. “We’ll see,” Zari nudged his shoulder. “These are beautiful Zari,” Isha lanced up from her friend portfolio. The pages graced by various sketches of dresses and designs. Shirts, pants, outfits and accessories on full display.

“Thank you! I’m just glad I was able to find something I’m good at in this city.” Zari blushed, moving to sit next to her friend. “I’m happy for you,” Isha smiled.

“Zari, who is this?” Her mother called. The designer moved to see who she was pointing at. “Oh that’s Melanie. We were roommates during college, we became really close and then when I had Aiden, and moved back into the house, she kept in touch.”

“She was there to help you give birth?” Her mother asked. “Yes, She was of great comfort,” Zari admitted. Isha’s smile fell slightly. “Well babygirl I hope you have room for us tonight,” Zari’s father yawned, gently closing the photo album. “Always Baba. You and mama can take the guest room at the top of the stairs. Isha can have my room, if you don’t mind sharing a bed with me. T’Challa can have the other bed in Aiden’s room.”

“Actually,” Isha interrupted. “I’ve gotten too used to sleeping alone. I just sleep all over the bed” the woman exaggerated. “I’ll take the twin in Aiden’s room.” Isha stood raising her arms in a long yawn.

“But that means-“

“Come on mama and baba.” Isha ushered her adoptive parents out of the room quickly, throwing a wink over her shoulder at the couple. “Did she just…”

“I think she did,” The young king laughed. “I can sleep on the couch. “No it’s fine, we can share a bed…”

“No I insist it’s really not a big deal,” T’Challa tried again. “T’Challa,” Zari burst, “ I want you to sleep with me.” The mother admitted. “Oh,” The king breathed. He swept one arm towards the stairs, “Lead the way,” he smiled shyly.

Minutes later, the couple found themselves wrapped in each other’s arms. “Are you sure this is ok?”The king double checked. Zari rolled over in bed. Her hand reaching our to trace the side of his face. “I’m positive. I know that this hasn’t been easy. And I haven’t been as welcoming as you may have wanted. But I know what I want. I want you. I’m just afraid.” The mother mumbled.

“ What if i've forgotten how to love? I have problems trusting, depending on other people. Not being in control,” Zari started.

“Then let’s start from the beginning.” T’Challa smiled. “Zari Abu. Will you go on a date with me?”

“Are you serious?” Zari beamed, her smile shining through the dark. “Only if you want to entle,” he reaffirmed. “I do,” she nodded. “So, may I take you out Friday night?” T’Challa grinned.

“Sure, but I think there is something you should know.”

“What would that be?” The king cocked an eyebrow. “I have a son.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I like kids then?” He teased.

“I guess so,” Zari smiled snuggling deeper into T’Challa’s side.“What was it like?” T’Challa asked his thumb tracing circles on Zari’s shoulder. “What?”

“Giving birth,” The king clarified. “Painful, tiring,abhorrent,torture,crappy,sucky… but when I saw his little face, I wanted to cry. He looked so much like you. It crushed me that I couldn’t be with you.” Zari explained. “Zar, I am so sorry.”

“There is nothing that can be done now. We’ve found each other again. We should be thankful.” Zari sighed. “I am. So much more than you could ever know,” T’Challa hummed. “Zar?” The brown woman hummed in response. “Would you want to have another?”

“Now? Don’t you think it is a little early T’Challa?”

“No in the future. I want the chance to finish my family with you. We started with Aiden, we just have a few more to go.”

“Just how many is a few?” Zari teased. “You know 4 or so.” The king smiled. “Four? You better hope for twins,” Zari sassed.

“You know how many women would die to carry my children?

“We’ll go find one of those heifers to carry your children!” Zari day up and started to get out of the bed.

“But I want you to carry my children,” T’Challa caught her hand and pulled her back. “Like I said, you better start praying for twins.” Zari asserted, laying back on the bed.

“You know, I’ve heard twins take alot of practice,” T’Challa began moving down the bed. “Is that so,” Zari grinned. The king hummed in response. One hand lifting Zari’s shirt to kiss her stomach. “What if there is a baby in there right now?” T’Challa raised a dopey grin to Zari’s eyes. “I’d like to speak to its creators because it is not my baby.”

What if it was our baby?”

“It can’t be. It’s not possible your majesty.”

“Then let’s make it possible,” a devious grin slid across the king’s face. “My parents are in the room next door!”

“That didn’t stop you in highschool,” the former prince grinned. “T’Challa!” Zari exclaimed, grinning as she slapped him upside the head. Silence fell upon the couple as T’Challa climbed back up the bed to Zari’s side. “We’ll get there eventually T’Challa. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Please, do not apologize. I am here, whenever you are ready. I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

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[yoosungiib]

Hi! I saw that you did an insecure HC with Jumin! Could you also do one for Zen or maybe everyone?

Zen comforting an insecure MC

~~~

Looking in the mirror became harder than it should, and ignoring the tabloids and the cruelty of the paparazzi became impossible as the severity of your insecurity grew.

It’s hard not to be insecure when you know your boyfriend who is the equivalent to a sex god, considering his godly looks, and is always surrounded by women with perfect bodies, perfect faces, perfect hair and perfect poise.

Constant times before, you’ve seen women, some he works with and some who just approach him, flirt and flaunt themselves at Zen.

Zen, a gentleman at that, always turns them away and rejects their advances, turning to you to wrap his arm around you, kiss you, then declare if his contract doesn’t negate it that he loves you.

And it became something of a regular basis where a journalist would write a nasty article belittling or critiquing you, or a fan would taunt you, or a fan would write something on their own forums about how they thought Zen could do better.

The scary part was you were starting to believe it – maybe he did deserve something, or someone better.

You can’t help yourself now when you finally do look in the mirror and compare yourself to what you think is the perfect woman for him.

Someone thinner,

Someone prettier,

Someone talented,

Someone more confident.

As of now, you were certain Zen had no idea of just how insecure and self conscious you were feeling,

Considering you’d laugh at the negative or harsh remarks to hide how hurt you really were.

Zen admires you for being so nonchalant, so what would he think when you knew how you really felt?

But trying to hide how you really felt was becoming too straining and you were closer to a breakdown than you liked to admit.

It seemed you reached the breaking point when you were sitting at his rehearsals, quietly watching from the sidelines as Zen shined on stage and it did not help that he shined with a very flawless looking actress when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Slowly you pulled out your phone and felt a weird ache in your stomach seeing it was a text from a close friend of yours outside of the RFA telling you to check out an article. Gulping, you clicked the link provided and felt your insides churn and your heart drop when you saw the headline for the opinion piece of a wash-up magazine.

Cruel, mean, untrue, unflattering, and over all invasive.

The article critiqued your physique, your personality, your inability to be Zen’s manager, but most importantly to you, your inability to be his girlfriend.

“It makes us wonder if this is all just a ploy or a set up by Zen’s manager. Would someone with the ravishing looks of Zen really subjected themselves to someone so plain and simple?”

“The two don’t even act like a couple. Zen rarely posts pictures of the two on his social media, and they are rarely seen outside of the studio together. But fans say they cannot blame Zen for wanting to stay away from the girl if she brings down his credibility.”

“Some speculate the two have a contract that forbids them from showing PDA, while others speculate he can’t bare to be seen with the girl.”

Every word in the opinion piece struck a chord within you. You felt the hot tears begin to brim in your eyes, but looking around seeing all the other actors, directors and set management, you knew you just had to get out of there so you could compose yourself.

You were so focused on getting out of the open, you didn’t see the worried look Zen gave you from on stage as you quickly collected your things and made way to his dressing room.

You closed the door, your head against the frame for a minute before pushing yourself off the wall and heading to the makeup table. You sat in the chair and immediately popped your head in your hands, taking a deep breath before you let the hot, salty tears spill.

You try to keep your cries silent so no one passing by could hear you – especially Zen. You didn’t want him to hear you.

At that moment you felt weak, and definitely not fit to be his girlfriend, so if anything, you were trying your best not to be loud so no one could hear and inform Zen you were in his dressing room sobbing your heart out.

No one needed to inform him in the end. When he saw you leave for the dressing room, the sad and burned-out look on your face, he was dropping everything to follow you and find out what was wrong.

His heart shattered when he saw you at the table, your head hidden between your arms and your body shaking as you cried.

“Jagiya?” You practically jumped out of the chair. You tried to play it off and act as if you weren’t just breaking down in his dressing room. You try to play it off that you weren’t hurting, but your boyfriend knew you better than that. He stops your rambling by walking to you, placing his warm hands on your cheeks, squishing them a little. He gives you a soft smile as he watches your face contort and you were suddenly crying again. He pulls you too him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and wrapping his arms around you. “MC, what’s wrong? What happened? Please, baby, talk to me. And let me help you.”

It’s hard for you to form the words, but somehow, through the mental and physical turmoil, you find a way to express to him how and what you are feeling.

“I can’t pretend anymore, Zen.”

“Pretand what?”

“That it doesn’t hurt. That when I see the hurtful things they say about me I don’t want to just breakdown. That when I see just how perfect, how much more those other girls are compared to me, that I don’t want to cry a-and-”

He stops you, gently pulling you off of him so he can sit you back down in the chair by the table, and he can kneel in front of you. He takes a deep breath, resting his hands on your knees, his thumbs rubbing circles along your kneecap. He looks up at you, and you can see in his eyes just how much it hurt him to hear you say all that. And he hasn’t heard it all.

You’ve yet to touch proper base on your insecurity. You’ve yet to tell him of your hatred towards a mirror.

You’ve yet to tell him how you’ve thought about leaving him because you think he’d therefore be able to find better.

He doesn’t want to hear anymore– what you said is enough to crush him and enough to break him apart.

The one he is in love with is on the verge, no, is breaking down in front of him because they have no confidence, no love for themselves, and no will to even try and ignore the mean things said to you anymore.

“Do you realize how much it hurts me to hear you say all that?” Zen starts, having to bite his lip to stop himself from snapping. Not because of you, but because of everything that has made you feel this way, made you feel so insecure.

“I don’t know.”

“Well it breaks me. It destroys me, MC, destroys me,” he says. He stands up abruptly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the dressing room. You stutter a few, “What are you doing?”’s as he pulls you through the studio, backstage, and then on stage.

Everyone who was on the stage, either working on the set or practicing stops as Zen walks straight to the center of the stage, stopping himself and you by grabbing your shoulders. Before you can ask him again what he’s doing, he’s grabbing your face and slamming his lips against yours in a rough and passionate kiss, yet at the same time it’s adoring. He pulls back, the both of you breathless and everyone around you guys red in the face, shocked.

“I am in so in love with you, MC.”

Your eyes widen at a confession he said before, but never in a crowd of people. Yes, there was the reveal of your relationship at the RFA party, but nothing like this. Nothing so sincere, so desperate or so meaningful. “Don’t say anything,” he says as he watches your lips quiver as you try to find the right words.

“Just listen to me. Listen to me tell you everything I love about you:

“I am in love with every small and large aspect about you from the colour of your hair to that one, weird pointy toe-nail you have. I am in love with the way your face crinkles when you smile at me, at anyone, and the dimples that surround that smile. I’m in love with your laugh, and though no matter how high pitch it is, it’s like… music to my ears!

“I am in love with the way you wake me up in the morning, playing with my hair and kissing my face. I am in love with you the way you love to cuddle by laying on my chest and listening to my heart throwback Tuesday to that other headcanon. I am in love with the way you make me lunches; the bread always has to be in perfect squares, always has to have the same amount of lettuce, and always has to have an even amount of condiments.

“I am in love with the way you treat others with the utmost kindness, even when they are not kind to you, and certainly do not deserve your kindness. I am in love with the way you snore, because though it sometimes startles me in the night, it reminds me you are with me and I am not going to lose you.

“I am in love with the fact you were willing to help a bunch of random strangers plan a party, even if it meant staying in an apartment that you were not familiar with, and you were willing to help those random strangers with all the personal issues in their lives.

“Dammit, I want to marry you, MC. I want to have children with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to be buried beneath the same grave as you. I want you.

“I understand insecurity, I really do, baby. I know everything I have said will not completely take away your insecurities, but god, I hope it helped you to see what I see, and to just love a little more what I love. And that’s you.”

He seals everything with a final kiss, a much softer one than the one he gave you before his speech. The difference with this kiss is it’s smooth, longer, lingering, and tears from both you and Zen are dripping down and slipping between the cracks of your lips.

The latest article in the headlines: Actor Hyun Ryu, aka “ZEN”, confesses and confirms his love for the young RFA beauty.

Zen was right, it didn’t completely cure your insecurities, and it wouldn’t, since something like insecurity is not something you can lose in a day. 

But everyday, Zen worked to show you just how much he appreciated you, admired you for everything including your insecurities, and how much he is in love with everything about you.

Mean articles never came to a complete stop, but they became less frequent, and with that, you started to feel more confident again. Especially with Zen now freely flaunting and showing you off to everyone.

The world needed to know how much he loved you, and the world needed to see you as he saw you. He wanted the world to be just as in love with you as he is in love with you.

Of course, you’d only be his.

You don’t need the world when you have him. But you need the reassurance that the world should be battling over you.

~~~

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