#hairdresser makeup artist whatever else

[arc-angel-o]

OMG COS GIRL RABBIT WOULD BE >>>>

[astrojulia]

Why big post about Aries in Aquarius season 😫 do one for Aquarius please

Hello dear,

It's because I need order.. if I don't have it I end up doing nothing, LOL. But I stopped to think and did something else... (okay, the Pisces Season just started, but whatever 😆). There's an old post of mine that I gave a good rework, I hope you like the new version.

They have free and unitary thinking - Even though they are the sign of the community, we cannot forget that Aquarius is the FIXED air sign, in addition to having been ruled by Saturn for many (MANY) years, so it understands that the community exists , but that there must be space between the self and the world. In this, in this space that Aquarians create between themselves and each other, what is most affected is their mind and consequently their worldview, this means that everything that passes through this person's mind first passes through their Aquarian lens, which changes all the information they receive by sharing their experiences and learning. Got confused? So let's go. The Aquarius man (or woman... or others) is that person who will listen to something and say something completely different, not because he is crazy, but because that said “something” triggers a series of experiences that these people have already had making A equals B for them… even if only in the mind, that's why weird dots get connect and it's not possible to control the Aquarian's reasoning.

They like the different - Wow, that's obvious Julia (← that's my name, okay), but it's true when we say that they are attracted to the different for simply being different, whether in fashion or in ideas, they will look for different plastic artists , clothing brands… Aquarians, however, will settle for something some time in their life. Once they are older,they have a more specific taste and that will accompany them for the rest of their lives, this could be a color, a band, a haircut… And this taste of theirs can even become a trend for a while, but when it doesn't, they'll still like it.

They are stylish - It is in my humble experience, women mostly. First, let's remember what the word style really means :“set of trends, tastes, characteristic ways of behavior of an individual or group”, that is, it is not what is in fashion. Having an Aquarius friend is seeing a piece of clothing and knowing it's going to like it because it's just like them. As I said before, they have a specific taste, even more so when they get older (young aquarius are still testing everything). At the beginning of their lives they do things to really shock, combining adolescence with Aquarian rebelliousness reminds me, and a lot, of the cyberpunk style, but after a while, they can continue wearing their Mohawks until they are 70 years old or simply, being in love with a cardigan, but you know THAT cardigan from your aquarius friend.

They have a creative mind - A creative mind in my view is one that will find a way to express their feelings, their soul in some way, so it's not surprising to see an Aquarius working in the arts or in more everyday jobs such as hairdresser and makeup artist. Aquarius have a taste for creativity, they have an artist's soul and the need for creation, you won't see every Aquarius with a watermelon around their neck, but maybe, when you go to see the character customization of one of their games, the character has hair green, purple mustache and orange vest (yes dad I'm talking about you)

They have a hidden side - They have something very similar to their former ruler partner Capricorn, which is separating the personal from the professional. They are one thing inside the house, another thing outside... but now this goes on to all other areas of their life, the emotional and personal of an Aquarius is hidden by their rational and social, the Aquarius will say what it believe to be the best for that moment, what it believe people need to hear and often leave their opinion aside, they do what they think will be more harmonious or what will bring more progress to their social bond. I've heard and read from several people (non-Aquarians)who see Aquarians as someone who likes to cause chaos and seek to "cause problem", but being honest, one of the greatest desires of Aquarians is to be accepted in society... do you think that they do this “by chance”? Or just to piss you off? You have a great ego, congratulations.

They give their best version - Out in the world, they always give their best, their brightest and most humanitarian side, but when they don't feel willing to be positive that day, they isolate themselves until they “return to normality”, soIt's super normal if your Aquarius friend doesn't see their cell phone for a while, they'll only answer you when they feel ready, not everything is ghosting ok.

They are selective - When you just meet an Aquarius it will talk deeply and a lot with you, but it's a test to know your commonalities and your character, if after that they don't have an affinity with you, you'll just be a colleague to greet, but you will not be their friend. Knowing this, yes, they are very annoying sometimes, even more so in societies where being extroverted is seen as a quality and being introverted is almost like a disease (I'm talking about you Brazil…), but they are there selecting what and who they will spend their energy on and many people will be left off the list.

“The Aquarius energy” - I see this energy as the energy of humanitarianism. When you went through the selection of the previous topic, you see that the Aquarius person likes to raise the mood of any situation, I see this through two methods, being them being logical with the solutions to problems or being able to see the positive side of everything that happens, no matter the way the have choose, they want to see their small group well and mostly together. I see a lot of aquarius people going to events and places they are not a fan of, but doing it because their group likes it a lot and they are happy about it.

They always want that person who doesn't care about them... - For some reason, they always fall in love with that person who isn't giving them the slightest bit of attention, that they need to put up a sign saying "I like you" to their crush knowing they exist.. Aquarians are romantic people, especially women, and they like a challenge, so for some reason the idea of earning their own lover and going against all negative possibilities is something that excites them.

They are connected to sounds - Remember when I said that they have different taste, are stylish and selective… This happens a lot with music. That person who lives with headphones listening to music, who doesn't drive without it radio... Probably Aquarius. I see many having a favorite band, others who like only one style of music, but Aquarians are people who have a soundtrack to their life and their senses are very involved in the sounds they hear.

They are terrible liars - You probably don't know this part, but one of the symbols of Aquarius is the titan Prometheus who, even if he got screwed afterwards, brought fire to humanity. One of the representations of fire is truth, it is stepping out of the darkness and knowing what is real and that spark runs through all Aquarians. And well... the lie is the opposite of the truth, so people who are always looking for the truth don't end up becoming a good liar. I'm not going to say they don't lie, I do (and I'm an Aquarius) but they tend to blurt out what they really think rather than blurt out a lie that they end up screwing themselves over it. The biggest part of not being able to lie is not being able to lie to themselves, they can't deceive themselves to do something they don't like for example, because their nature does not allow them to do what they don't think is right. Also, they are good at detecting lies too..

They joke about everything - You know that person who makes an uncomfortable joke in the middle of a tense situation?…Nice to meet you, Aquarius. Many will be surprised and even irritated with them, and yes, over the years many Aquarians learn not to make jokes with people they don't know... but they are the kings of sarcasm, that's why they always put a joke in the middle of a tense situation.

They love to question - They are very curious and can't see an opportunity to learn more passing in front of them, so if they have the openness to ask and delve into the subject... they will ask and delve further into the subject... it is also a great strategy for them to strike up conversations and get closer.. so pay attention to this if you're into an Aquarius person.

They love change - Aquarius is a free spirit and air sign, so they don't like to put down roots and always change a little behavior to have a new routine, a new job or even go to a new country…. But we also cannot forget its fixed nature and its regencies. Being from Uranus, they always want to see new things quickly, for the world to change as quickly as possible, after all, chaos is the spark of creation, and with Saturn… they love change, but mostly in others, when others change to do something, because many times the Aquarius wants to continue doing the same and the make the other moves the gears of transformation.

They are liberal - Are they judgmental of others' behavior and beliefs? Yes. But for them. “Is this person's belief good for me?”, it turned out, what the other does (which is not illegal) is the other's problem. You'll see them in many different social groups, not wanting to change anyone's opinion if no one asked and will let you have your way... just don't forget that the Aquarius won't change them for you either.

They seek positivism - Aquarius always seeks to make the best of the situation and people, so they will always see the reason for what happened from the other's point of view and will place less blame on the shoulders of others, things happen because they have to happen, they don't always have a culprit.

They know how to take criticism - If you got a "no" from an Aquarius when criticizing them it was for two reasons, either you haven't known them for a long time or they don't see you as an authority on the subject, Aquarius knows that others will be able to see details they don't understand and seek help from those they trust for advice, especially in the field of love. Yes, we know that sometimes it is necessary to be more humble and accept the opinion of people that we see as laymen... but it is difficult LOL

They are magical beings - They have a different energy, they try to connect with the spiritual and with nature in some way because they feel the need to clean themselves from human connections from time to time, they are very affected by other people's energy, that's why they resort to various spiritual practices and alone time.

Magic hands - This is certainly the most curious one, Aquarians are tactile and touch sensitive people, so they have a lot of energy in their hands and can develop techniques like reiki and massage very easily and they are nice about it. Now can you understand a little why they hate agglomerations and hugging and kissing people?

Sources: Astro Elias - The 19 secrets inspiration Template by sorberts on tumblr PSD by wildfireresources on deviantart

[the-empress-7]

Oh colour me surprised! Now their Baker has shared a picture of lili's bday cake. It's super tiny, and has real flowers on it. Doesn't look like a 1yr old's first party cake, but who am I to judge Meghan's awesome hostess skills, yeah?

Ps: I am judging her hostess skills. She is a shit hostess.

I'm pretty certain no other royal turned up and there were not many guests. You ask why I was so certain? Well, let's see.

1. Meghan is dressed so casually, without makeup. If there were royals, she would be dressed in something else, not wrinkled pyjamas.

2. The cake is so small.

3. Archie isn't in any pics.

4. Crying Daniel left by Saturday, so no way was she ever going to be out in public once he had left.

I feel quite certain that they arranged for a photoshoot on the day of the bday. And asked just the photographer and his family to come over.

It's sad they bungled the 1st bday because they couldn't choose between an actual celebration and PR. Something happened that made all their plans go kaput. I think Harry just threw a tantrum and pulled back whatever PR blitz they had planned because they did not get any screentime with the senior royals.

Like I said other day, it's a sad state of affairs when the only people willing to be associated with you are the ones you pay for goods and services.

Hairdresser. Makeup artist. Baker. Photographer.

[fruitydiaz-archived]

from the prompt - "i think you look beautiful" for @lesbiandiaz

let's not talk about how long ago you sent me this <3

Buck asked for this. Not consciously, but he did ask for this. He has no one to blame but himself, really.

He’s sitting cross-legged in Hen and Karen’s backyard, nose itching with spring allergies, with Nia, innocently oblivious, spreading sparkly eyeshadow and lipgloss all over his face in the name of beauty.

(He had walked outside and found her chasing Harry around with a lip gloss wand, demanding that someone let her make them beautiful. And Buck, well, he couldn’t resist that face, could he?)

Meanwhile, Denny, Harry, and Chris, all significantly less innocently oblivious, are weaving leaves and twigs into his curls.

May, who was supposed to be watching over them, is no help from where she’s sitting stretched out on one of the lawn chairs, fingers tapping away at her screen, looking up occasionally, snorting, and shouting out words of encouragement to the kids.

“We’re making Buck pretty!” Nia giggles and all three boys nod their heads in agreement.

“And I so appreciate this generous makeover from you, Nia,” Buck says as she takes a brush and swipes some blush down the side of his face. He’s watched enough random makeup tutorials on YouTube to know that that is not his color, but he’s not going to tell her that. “Because you are a true artist. The rest of you I’m not so sure about.”

He reaches a hand behind him and digs his fingers into Harry’s side, tickling him.

“Hey,” Harry shouts, batting his hand away and jumping back a foot. “We’re just trying to help.”

“Yeah, Buck, we’re just helping Nia out,” Denny adds on, shooting a grin at Harry.

“We’re professional hairdressers, Buck,” Christopher says, trying to keep his voice level and serious, but he can’t really keep back his laughter.

“Oh are you, really? Remind me—when did you three go to cosmetology school again?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Harry says, dropping a handful of leaves over Buck’s head. Nia chastises him as some of the leaves drop over the front of his face, and he at least has the conscience to look a little guilty about it.

“I help my dad with his haircuts sometimes,” Christopher points out. Buck smiles.

“Well someone has to. Your dad’s too cheap to get them done professionally.”

“One time he used the clippers by himself and ended up with a bald spot on the back of his head. Abuela said he wasn’t allowed to do his hair unsupervised after that.”

Buck snickers, glancing over his shoulder at Christopher.

“I bet he looked real funny like that. You take any pictures?” Christopher’s eyes light up and he nods, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

“Yeah! But they’re on Pepa’s phone. I can ask her to share them with you.”

“That’s my boy,” Buck whispers back, holding his hand out for a fist bump.

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Eddie’s voice cuts through the yard. All five heads snap up and look in his direction before Christopher utters a tiny uh oh and all the kids scramble to different parts of the yard, Denny pulling Nia along by her hand.

Buck twists around, staring at the space around him.

“What, you're all just gonna leave me here like this? Traitors,” He shouts after them. He reaches a hand up and attempts to shake out some of the leaves, wincing as his hair gets caught on several twigs.

“Kids,” Eddie starts, crossing the grass towards Buck. “Can’t trust ‘em.”

Buck grins sheepishly at him. “You’re telling me. This bunch is sneaky, too. They pull you in with their cute charm and then you can’t get free.”

Eddie reaches a hand out towards him and Buck eyes it appreciatively before grasping it and hauling himself up.

“Yeah, kids are like that,” Eddie says, a little distracted, his eyes dancing around Buck’s face and hair. He presses his lips together, valiantly holding in his laughter, and starts helping dismantle the bird’s nest the boys made of Buck’s head.

“Thanks,” Buck says quietly, eyes dropping to the ground and watching as sticks and leaves fall down onto the grass. “They really did a number on me, huh?”

Eddie laughs, brushing some debris off Buck’s shoulder. “You haven’t seen your face yet.”

Buck’s eyes shoot up to meet his and Eddie freezes before stepping back and grinning. He pulls his phone out from his back pocket and tells Buck to smile, which earns him a scowl, and snaps a picture, turning the phone around for Buck to see.

“Please delete that immediately.”

“No,” Eddie pulls his phone away before Buck can grab it, sliding it back into his pocket. “I don’t think I will.”

“Well—just so you know, your son just promised to share some pictures of that time you shaved a bald spot into the back of your head, so.”

“Hey man, I’m just helping you out.”

“Funny, that’s what the kids said when they were turning me into some kind of forest monster.”

“And what kind of father would I be if I deleted the proof of all of their hard work?”

“I hate you,” Buck frowns—which just makes Eddie want to laugh harder. He bites his lip.

“Okay, okay. I think I have some wet wipes on me.” Buck watches as Eddie slips his hands into his jacket pockets, pats his chest pocket, pats along his legs, then finally pulls a packet of wet wipes out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“You carry wet wipes with you everywhere you go or did you just set me up for this?” Eddie gives him a look.

“We’re at a kid's party, Buck. And I have a kid. These are a staple for all parents everywhere.” Eddie pulls a wipe out and studies Buck’s face, not even really sure where to begin. The longer he stares, the more pitifully Buck stares back at him. Eddie blinks and decides to start with the eyes.

He steps closer to Buck, holding his jaw lightly with his fingers and whispering for him to close his eyes. There’s a moment of prolonged eye contact before Buck finally obliges, and Eddie starts gently sweeping the wipe over his eyelid.

“Plus,” He adds quietly. “I’ve got a best friend who somehow always manages to find himself caught up in all kinds of messes.”

“Aw, you carry those around just for me, Eds?”

There’s a pause, just for a moment, and Eddie swears he can hear his heart beating. He swallows.

“Just for you.”

Neither of them says anything for a minute and Eddie concentrates on making sure Buck’s eyes are clear of all glitter and makeup. He startles a little when Buck chuckles and Eddie feels the warmth of his breath.

He braces himself for whatever Buck’s about to say and then—

“Did you not like my makeover?” Buck and Eddie glance down, surprised to see Nia staring back up at them, standing to the left of Eddie.

“Uh,” Eddie says helpfully.

When did all four kids surround them? Eddie looks back up at Buck expectantly. Buck blinks back at him.

“I did,” He licks his lips. “But we’ve got to get ready for dinner now. So Eddie was just helping me clean up. My...face.”

“Did you tell him he looked beautiful?” Nia asks, this time staring right at Eddie, who blinks back at her.

“...I’m sorry?”

“When I used to do Mama Hen’s makeup she wasn’t allowed to take it off until Mama Karen told her she looked beautiful.”

Eddie stares at her, hand still hovering in the air by Buck’s face. Christopher tugs at his shirt from his other side.

“I think she wants you to tell Buck he looks beautiful, dad.”

Eddie turns slowly to look at him. “Thank you, Christopher.”

Christopher has the nerve to laugh at him.

Eddie straightens up and looks at Buck who stares back at him blankly, offering no assistance. He notices May setting her phone down out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile spreading on her face.

He definitely stepped into some sort of trap, walking outside. He’s sure of it.

“Um,” He says, dropping his hand to his side. Buck ducks his head a little, fluttering his eyelashes at Eddie. Eddie’s gonna kill him.

“You got something you want to say to me, Diaz?” Eddie shakes his head, letting himself laugh at the absurdity of the situation, Buck still with makeup smeared over half of his face, a bunch of kids surrounding them, watching them expectantly.

“Yeah, Buck. I think you look beautiful.”

The kids all burst into cheers and Eddie watches in amazement as Buck’s cheeks turn a shade of pink he’s pretty sure he’s never seen before.

May stands up from her chair.

“Alright let’s all get inside to wash up before dinner, okay?” She ignores everyone’s protests and ushers them back towards the house, sending a wink in Eddie’s direction before shutting the patio door.

Eddie lets his eyes linger on the door, daring anyone else to come out and catch them in another trap.

No one comes.

He turns back to Buck and they both just stare at each other before laughing softly. Eddie looks down at the wipes in his hand, almost forgotten. He steps back towards Buck and starts removing what’s left of the makeup.

“So...beautiful, huh?” Buck says eventually. Eddie focuses on the movement of the wipe against Buck’s face.

“Well, maybe not like this,” He says honestly. Buck huffs out a laugh.

“That’s good. I was worried I was gonna have to get done up like this all the time just for you to notice me.”

Eddie swallows, wiping the last stray swipe of glitter gloss from Buck’s face. He lets his fingers linger against his skin.

“I always notice you, Buck.”

Buck doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches Eddie ball up the used wipes in his hand before slipping the pack back into his pocket.

“Really?” He says eventually, looking back up and holding Eddie’s gaze. Eddie hesitates.

He wants to play it off—say something about how of course everyone notices Buck, he demands attention all the time. He’s loud and bold and sometimes obnoxious—but Eddie knows that not everyone notices Buck the way he does.

It’s different. It’s not something that he can’t help—it's natural, instinctual. He’s drawn to Buck at all times, always. He doesn’t think there’s a way he could ever stop noticing Buck. He’s in everything Eddie does.

He notices Buck in the new alarm clock that sits on his nightstand—the one that’s supposed to wake him up gradually like the sun—the one Buck had insisted on buying for him because he thinks Eddie’s sleep schedule is shit and this clock’s supposed to be better. He never tells him that it actually does work for him—but he imagines the way the dark circles under his eyes have started to fade probably tell him all he needs to know.

He notices Buck in the oat milk that sits in the back of his fridge, in the extra protein bars in his pantry, in the box of baking supplies up high on the tallest shelf (maybe Eddie can cook—but he never bakes.)

He notices him in the extra clothes that end up in his laundry basket every once in a while—leftover from nights when Buck passes out on their couch. Notices him in the LAFD hoodie hanging on the hook by his front door (the one that’s just a little too big to be his own,) in the spare key to Buck’s apartment that’s been on his ring of keys for years now.

He’s in the way Eddie makes his morning coffee, the playlist he listens to on the way to work, the movies and TV shows in his Netflix queue, in the new phrases and mannerisms that Christopher picks up—ones that always hit Eddie right in his gut.

Of course Eddie always notices him. He could never miss the way Buck’s smile lights up a room or the way his laugh loosens up every tense muscle in Eddie’s body.

Sometimes, like if he’s had too much to drink, Eddie starts to think of Buck as a lighthouse. A really tall, really sturdy lighthouse. And through whatever—rain, fog, sleet, hail—Eddie’s always able to find his light.

Sober Eddie thinks that’s corny. But the thought always comes back to him—a truth he can’t shake.

“Yeah, Buck,” He says quietly. “Really.”

[ashasmonsters]

The Middle Prince

Male reader x Male Tiefling (Amon)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: Detailed wet dreams, alcohol

Words: 8k

Note: Some MLM goodness for Pride Month! This took me longer than I intended, but only because I wrote it way too long and had to break it up into parts! Expect more in this series.

The dreams started assailing you a little over a month ago. During the first week, you couldn't remember anything. You would awake in your bedchamber covered in sweat and panting as if you had just finished a sparring session. These nights, a name danced on the tip of your tongue, escaping just as you attempted to sound it out and make it real. Confused and alone you would promptly go back to sleep after flipping over your pillow. As time passed, the dreams grew both in intensity and clarity. Though still more mysterious than normal dreams, little details here and there coalesced in your waking memory: a soft touch followed by a rough one, the smell of lavender, your fingernails gliding over shallow ridges, the color of aquamarine gemstones. These dreams visited you every night without fail.

The determinations made by the court oneiromancers were limited in scope. After spending the night in the care of one such dream diviner, they found these dreams to be coming from somewhere else. The dreams were not your own, at least not fully. Beyond this, they had no more revelations. Anything more was conjecture; one stated that if magick was involved, it was either massively strong, thus able to conceal its origin, or so fleeting and ephemeral that even the oneiromancers couldn't trace it.

Your father's concern waxed but mostly waned. Perhaps if you were the eldest crown prince instead of the middle one, the answer would have been willed into existence by his command. He simply asked that the oneiromancers track your condition and report any findings to him, but no more than once each week. Though dismayed that little was being done to solve this mystery, you were used to being far from priority. Even years ago when an attempt on your life left one of your legs still and unresponsive, a leg brace allowing you to stand at public appearances was issued and the problem was declared solved. You vividly remembered the look on the assassin's face when he realized he had accidentally struck third in the line of succession rather than first. His reaction was not dissimilar from your father's when you mentioned your dreams: a mildly amused but primarily disappointed visage. The spot where the dagger had pierced your spine no longer ached but your discontent was as raw and fresh as the day the realization struck.

With the oneiromancers essentially told to only report something unquestionably threatening to your life or the family's honor, you shared very little with them. Several times you had dismissed them with little more than a hand wave. None of them ever protested. To their knowledge, no new developments within these dreams came to light. It was just another little curiosity that came with the court.

To their knowledge, anyway. In truth, there had been a quite substantial development that you withheld from them.

The night air was cool and crisp. From your bedchamber's veranda, you let the gentle sound of the garden's fountains below soothe your nerves. This had become your regular nighttime ritual; your last chance to feel relaxed and cool before waking up overheated and frantic. You enjoyed the last of it before sliding under the sheets and waiting for the dream to visit you.

This was the clearest dream to date. The scattered sensations and feelings from prior episodes came into focus: the touches came from smooth, tender hands, the smell of lavender from purple cups of herbal tea. Your fingers played over short, filed horns. That bold aquamarine color like a burning emerald belonged to a pair of eyes, their pupils narrow and catlike. The overall plot of the dream remained unknown to you. What came next, however, was new. Very new.

A pair of hands caressed your body as whatever clothing you had dissolved into the air. Your mind reeled from the realization of what was happening, yet you were relaxed all the same. Though surprised, you didn't wish for it to stop. Even as the tender hands had you at their mercy, one playfully pinching a nipple as the other reached lower in between your legs, you welcomed their touch without knowing why. You just did. It felt right. The hand between your legs started confidently stroking your shaft; making you moan. Their touch was expertly coordinated as if they knew everything about you. Not long after, the building pressure within you was too much to bear, then...

"AMON!" You cried out, the name that had eluded you all those nights finally woven from syllables into a complete utterance. You were no longer dreaming, your own hands reflexively covering your mouth in a futile attempt to take back the exclamation. In the dead of night like this, you most certainly alerted someone.

"My Prince, are you alright?" Your chief courtier, Petra, had burst through your bedchamber door. Guards with polearms at the ready had her back.

"I'm alright," you caught your breath, "it's the dream again. No cause for alarm." As usual, you bore a sheen of sweat and your heart was thundering in your ears.

"You've never called out like that before," Petra noted, not yet dropping her guard.

"I called out?" You lied, wincing as you felt something viscid and slimy on your groin under your dressing gown. Deep embarrassment came to the forefront of your mind, your face helpless to hide it. "Bring me my washbasin, please," you quickly uttered.

"At once, my Prince." Petra left the room as the guards resumed their posts. You peeled back your dressing gown to inspect the damage by moonlight. It was worse than you thought. Undoubtedly this gown would have to be thrown out. You groaned, disappointed in your own body for betraying you like this.

"Your washbasin, Prince." Petra returned and you hurriedly covered yourself up again. The moonlight was too dim, or perhaps she pretended not to see, but she was soon at your bedside without pause, brandishing a sponge and towel.

"I can do this myself," you said, taking the implements from her. She looked at you with intent to interrogate.

"Prince, if there have been changes with your dreams, you must inform the oneiromancers."

"No need," you said, eager to fully clean yourself. "You are dismissed, Petra."

Petra held her tongue. Her eyes told you she only did so because she was eager to return to bed. When she departed your bedchamber and closed the door, you finally discarded the soiled gown and did your best to cleanse yourself of your nocturnal emission. You donned a new gown and welcomed an ordinary slumber.

When morning came, so did Petra and a bevy of assistant courtiers. From the accoutrements they wielded you identified them as the "fashion corps," your nickname for the hairdressers, wardrobers, clothiers, and makeup artists whose arrival portended a formal event you were required to attend. As the squad of aesthetes communicated amongst each other, Petra drew you a bath. While the tub filled, she came to your side and took your shoulder on hers to help you hobble into the bathing chamber.

"What's the occasion, Petra?" You unfolded a privacy screen, dividing your bathing chamber in half. As you stripped and entered the balmy water, you heard Petra pull up a chair on the other side of the screen.

"The biannual alliance gala, Prince."

"The alliance gala?" You asked. Your appearance had not been required at one for quite some time. "Why me?"

"Your father has requested that the entire court attend. From what I've heard, there is quite the number of fiefdoms and baronies joining the kingdom at this one."

"Grand." You sighed and resigned yourself into the water until it met your chin. You imagined the great hall of the palace, teeming with strangers from far-off lands all speaking in such meaningless platitudes that they needed alcohol in hand to tolerate it.

"If it makes you feel any better, Prince, most of the night depends on your elder brother and your father. You have the freedom to do whatever you like once your father's opening speech is concluded," Petra said with a mild tone.

It didn't make you feel better. Your father built a kingdom that, apparently, smaller domains were scrambling to join. Your elder brother was the crown prince with hordes of suitors seeking his heart. Even your elder sister, with no direct claim to the crown, was quite sought after. Then there was you, with permission to get as drunk as you like at the gala. You seriously considered exercising that privilege.

Your ruminations were interrupted by the clatter of hammered metal and leather straps from beyond the screen.

"I've got your brace ready, Prince. Let me know when you're dry," Petra said. You reluctantly finished scrubbing and soaping yourself before heaving your body onto the lip of the bath and toweling off. Sat there, damp with dripping hair and a towel round your waist, you permitted Petra to attach the brace to you. She respectfully averted her eyes as she affixed the contraption to your immobilized leg. With it attached, you traded comfort for the ability to limp and stand unassisted.

Next came the gauntlet of clothing, hair styling, and makeup that the fashion corps employed. Even for today, which was merely a rehearsal for the true event tomorrow, they gave no mercy. They encircled you and passed you around as they worked like a knight being suited by his squires. The process was grueling. Your hair was tugged and the breeches squeezed your brace into your leg. With the freedom to choose your own clothes removed from you, there was no choice but to deal with the feeling of metal biting at your skin.

Bound in the tight, ceremonial clothing, Petra took your arm for the long walk to the great hall. It was full of palace staff and buzzing like a beehive. The ceiling, high as a cathedral's, let in beams of sunlight through its many massive windows. Tables were being arranged with the intent to give each attending guest a view of the stage: the stage where your father and elder brother would be giving their opening speeches tomorrow. The two of them were behind a podium, your brother reading a piece of parchment over your father's shoulder. Behind them towards the back of the stage was a row of ornate seats; not quite thrones but just as uncomfortable. Your elder sister met your gaze as she sat on one. She beckoned you over.

"That will be your seat for the rehearsal, Prince," Petra said.

"Rehearsal for sitting?" You quipped, walking towards your seat anyway. Resistance was futile no matter how silly this all was.

"I'll undo your hair and get you into more comfortable clothes as soon as I can, Prince," Petra said apologetically. "Bear with it. I must attend to the other staff now."

With that, Petra disappeared into the crowd of scrambling staff arranging the great hall into order. You limped to your seat, your brace clicking all the while.

"You look excellent, little brother," your sister said. She was attempting to alleviate your sour mood, but she still hadn't figured out how. Neither had you.

"I look like an idiot. And my leg is killing me," you snapped.

Your sister merely sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her hair, in a high bun, bumped the bejeweled headrest and made her curse.

"You used to love these events when you were smaller. You had perfected waving to the crowd before you learned to talk," she said.

"That was a long time ago. Things were different; I was naive, none of us had official duties, the assassination attempt hadn't happened, I wasn't bedeviled by these dreams... mother was alive." You cast your gaze downward, examining your buckled leather shoes. You heard her sigh.

"Not all change has to be bad. And to be fair, you still don't have any official duties to worry about." She placed a hand on your shoulder.

"That's a polite way of saying I'm useless." You looked up at your father and elder brother. They were discussing something about their speeches, annotating and marking the parchment before them. A small audience of pages stood in front of the stage, listening to them run through portions of their speeches. They hadn't yet paid you any heed.

"It's a blunt way of saying you're free," your sister said firmly. "Every week I'm fielding suitors from all over the world, and not one of them has proven to be anything but repulsive. I'm terrified that one day strategy and diplomacy will land me with someone like them."

Your eyes widened at her open disdain for the matters of the court.

"I'm sorry," you said, reconstructing your vision of who your sister truly was. "I had no idea you felt that way... I thought—"

"You thought I was traipsing about with handsome men from far-off lands every day?" She smirked.

"...yes." You blushed.

"Hah! I wish!" Your sister flinched at her own exclamation, then relaxed when she realized the monarch and the crown prince hadn't noticed. "But you don't have to wish for that. You're free to traipse with whomever you please."

You blushed harder. Turning away from your sister, you saw your brother and father finishing up their speech revisions. On cue, Petra emerged from the throng of staff to conclude this "rehearsal."

"Looks like Petra's coming to get you," your sister noted. "I know you'll be free to retire to your bedchambers as soon as the speeches are over, but I want you to try and enjoy yourself tomorrow night. It's what I would do if I could." She gave you one final smile before getting up from her seat.

"I will," you said, finally cracking a tiny smile in return. Petra had your arm soon after.

"Your presence is no longer required, Prince." Petra helped you up. "Shall I take you back to your chambers?"

"Yes, please," you said, giving your sister a thankful glance. She returned a similar expression as Petra whisked you away.

When you had finally returned to your chambers and changed into less constrictive clothing, you asked Petra to stay awhile to converse. Your sister's advice had forced you to re-evaluate your approach to the gala. Your priorities had shifted just as much as your notions of her personality had.

"You mentioned there were many newcomers to the kingdom? Quite a few tables were being set up in the great hall," you quizzed Petra.

"Yes, from what I've gathered, it's expected to be the largest event we've hosted all year. We're expecting guests from as far as Ankara and Nubia," she answered matter-of-factly. Perhaps she was a little proud, too.

"Are there any specific guests I should know about?" You asked with the grace of a war elephant. Courtship had crossed your mind for the first time mere minutes ago. "Anyone of high repute?"

Petra picked up on your clumsy intent immediately. She knew you too well.

"Prince, it would be quicker to list the attendees not worth approaching than those with stellar accolades. If it were me..." she drew in air through her teeth as if expecting to be reprimanded, "I would consider tomorrow's gala an excellent time to court someone."

"I'll try to take that advice to heart, Petra," you said.

"I'm pleased, Prince. Your matters are your own, but if I may speak unequivocally..."

"Speak your mind." You gave her permission. She hesitated, then sighed.

"You strike me as lonely, Prince. Ever since the Queen passed, your social life has suffered." Petra paused again, considering her words carefully. "You deserve love of that measure once more, whether from a partner or a good friend."

"Thank you," you sighed as if she had given you permission to use your heart. "I appreciate the advice, Petra."

"Of course, Prince." She glanced out the window towards the setting sun. "I recommend you retire early tonight to be invigorated tomorrow, lest the dreams strike again."

You nodded.

"They will." You avoided her eyes as you remembered what happened last time. "Have a washbasin ready. For the, erm, sweat."

"Of course, Prince," Petra said, her face remaining unmoved. You didn't bother trying to discern whether she was oblivious to last night's gown-soiling or if she merely extended you the courtesy of pretending. "I'll leave you be. Get some rest."

You watched her exit your chambers without another word, finally exhaling the breath you held. The idea of having to clean yourself up again was hardly appealing. Standing on the veranda and enjoying the cool night air was only prolonging the inevitable.

The aforementioned inevitable reared its troublesome head as soon as you surrendered to sleep. Your consciousness materialized somewhere, a location unidentifiable but still more detailed than you had ever encountered before. You glimpsed kaleidoscopic carpets, hammered brass, and vines growing freely about the place.

"Welcome back." A man's voice like sweet honey floated through the warm air.

"I missed you." The words left your mouth without you knowing them. You were merely an observer to your own actions. "Amon."

"My sweet prince." Lips on your knuckles. The smell of lavender tea. "Tea?"

"No thanks. We must keep this quick," you uttered again, breathless and surrendering to a desire that was both yours and unknown to you.

"Tut, tut. What's gotten into you, my prince? I've never seen you so impatient," the voice teased. Your head spun.

"I need my energy," you gasped, something warm and wet lapping at your member. "For tomorrow." The ministrations paused.

"Of course. Tomorrow will be very special indeed." The tongue on your shaft resumed, making you squirm. You reached out into the nothingness, your fingers grasping at frayed carpet tassels. Your other hand reached in between your legs and found a head of hair. You grasped a smooth horn that curved neatly behind an ear. It bobbed up and down at a tantalizing pace.

"Amon, I... I shouldn't..."

"Shouldn't what?" Another pause in the pleasure. You caught your breath. Those eyes again, burning into yours with the hue of warm ocean waters. "Say no to me, my prince. I implore you to try."

Caught in the stare you were helpless. You quivered with need, your manhood twitching and drooling. Only a high whine left your lips.

"Thought so."

You shot up in bed, crying out and spasming. Once more you had spilled yourself into your gown, your entire body slick with sweat. As a small victory, your cries remained nondescript rather than referential to this "Amon." In the dream, you had felt a sweet warmth in your breast each time you spoke to him and even warmer when he responded. In your waking memory, this name was empty. There was no connection and no feeling of belonging. If you hadn't heard your own voice leave your mouth in the dream, you would have had no way of knowing those experiences were your own. Your dreaming memory and conscious recollection were severed, at odds with one another. What did he mean when he said tomorrow would be special? Did he know about the gala? You didn't know how much you knew.

"The washbasin, Prince," Petra uttered as she carried it into your chambers. She stowed it at your bedside. "Shall I leave you like before?"

"Yes, please... but would it trouble you to return afterward?"

"Not at all, Prince. I'll return at your word." She slipped out of the room. You took the opportunity to cleanse yourself of the evidence before permitting Petra to return.

“Petra, would it be possible to acquire a guest list for the gala?” You asked.

“Possible, yes. However, it will be quite long without any qualifiers. As I mentioned previously, this is one of the largest events of the year.”

You considered simply asking her if the name Amon was among the attendees, but Petra would likely alert the oneiromancers and in turn, your father. You doubted anything would happen at all if she did, but this was a matter you wanted to confront on your own. Like all other decisions made for you at your father’s behest, your own interests would unquestionably be cast aside if he decided to involve himself.

“I’d like to know the first names of all the male guests scheduled to attend,” you said. Petra raised an eyebrow.

“That doesn’t narrow it down much, Prince,” Petra answered. The sweet, honeyed voice from your dream remained in your mind. It was the voice of a young man, one likely of your age.

“Only the male guests around my age, then,” you specified. Petra raised her other eyebrow, making her expression one of surprise rather than skepticism.

“Ah. That kind of list. I see...” Your cheeks burned; though you didn’t know where this inquiry would take you, you also felt the conclusion Petra came to was not wholly inaccurate. “Shall I make,  erm, other arrangements as well?”

“Arrangements?” you asked. It was Petra’s turn to blush.

“The standard things... extra pillows, oils, skins—”

“Yes, of course, Petra,” you cut her off, not wishing for her to extend the list of amenities any further. Searching for a suitor was a favorable charade. If nothing else, if this search for the mysterious Amon proved fruitless, then you would at least have the means, motive, and opportunity to bed somebody... if you had the audacity. The look on Petra's face said she didn't think so.

"I’ll have the list and the... goods brought in before sun-up,” Petra said. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, Petra, that will suffice.”

“Good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Morning arrived and so did Petra's promises; the chief courtier herself was nowhere to be found, but a neatly transcribed list of names and a box tied with a bow sat atop a chaise lounge when you awoke. You already knew what waited inside the box, so you went for the list. Though only containing the names of guests that fit your qualifiers, the parchment was both long and double-sided. Your eyes began to tire just as they fell across what you were looking for:

Amon II - Eparch of Nobatian Lower Makuria and Alodia

You were puzzled. Makuria and Elodia were names you hadn't heard since you were tutored. Even your father's kingdom with its diplomats venturing far and wide rarely mentioned them. You only knew they were small kingdoms far away from this one. There was not one but two oceans between here and there, they spoke a language no tutor in the palace taught, and both titles of "Nobatian" and "Eparch" were unknown to you.

Then the fashion corps arrived. You dropped the parchment and pondered the new information as they manhandled you into the appearance they had crafted for you yesterday. Perhaps due to more practiced hands or being lost in your thoughts, the process seemed to go much faster than previously. You almost didn't believe it when they told you they were finished, but the shifted sun and your appearance in the mirror confirmed that the gala would soon begin. Your hair was fashioned into an unnatural shape, your face was dusted with powder, and your clothes were so form-fitting that you appeared sewn into them. The bulge of the leg brace through your breeches peeked out at the ankle; the leggings were so tight that your overcoat preserved more of your modesty than they did.

With Petra absent and likely scrambling to put last-minute touches on the gala, you walked to the great hall with the assistance of the fashion corps, who likewise made hasty repairs to your appearance as your gait jostled things out of place. When you arrived, the great hall was even busier than at the rehearsal. It seemed there was a member of palace staff for each seat at every table, all of them fastidiously arranging cutlery, plates, decorative vases, placemats, and myriad other things you didn't know the names for.

“Little brother!” You turned your head and spotted your elder sister within a parade of her own fashion corps regiment. She waved at you from one of the great hall’s entrances.

“Sister,” you responded with a nod, your own cavalcade parting to allow her approach.

“Have you given tonight any consideration?” She asked.

“Yes, actually...”

“You’re not going to retreat to your chambers?”

“...not immediately,” you said, noncommittal.

“I’m glad.” She smiled gently. “I’ll likely be busy most of the night, though if you’d like me to send anyone your way, let me know. Who’s on your list?”

“My list?” you sputtered. “Petra told you?”

“Petra? Goodness, no,” she chuckled. “I just figured you’d have one. It’s standard practice for these sorts of things; I’ve a list as well. So... who’s on yours?”

You lowered your head and examined your shoes.

“Well... it’s quite long.”

“How scandalous!” she gasped exaggeratedly.

“I’m just casting a wide net is all! I don’t intend to bed every single male my age!” Your cheeks burned again. You considered dropping the charade if it meant this level of humiliation.

“I expected my mild little brother to have a rebellious phase eventually, but this...” she said, ignoring your cries.

"Sister, please," you pleaded. The tone of your voice convinced her to return to normal. She extended a hand to ruffle your hair but stopped herself when your fashion corps hairstylist glared at her.

"Apologies, little brother. I had to jest a little," she smiled at you, this time without intent to tease. "They're going to start letting in the guests soon. We should take our seats."

You nodded and followed her to the stage. The fashion corps fell away from you and went to help elsewhere. You sat in your uncomfortable pseudo-throne and waited, eventually joined by your other siblings save for your eldest brother. They greeted you as they took position at your side, but there was very little to talk about. This was the first time you had seen them in a while.

Then came the guests: the table-setters had cleared out some minutes before the floodgates burst and more staff escorted groups of people to their tables. The cathedral-like great hall was full in mere moments. Sorted by table, there was a sea of people in colorful finery all conversing amongst themselves and giving you and your siblings the occasional glance. You tried to pick out Amon from the crowd but quickly realized half-remembered fragments from your dreams wouldn't be enough to pick him from a sea of hundreds. Even finding his name on the list took a considerable amount of time.

Then the hall fell silent, or something close to it. A lively conversation between hundreds of people dropped to hushed whispers. Your father and brother had entered the hall and begun their walk to the podium, silencing the crowd with nothing but their appearance. When your father reached the podium, he extended both arms palms up and the previously subdued crowd erupted into cheers. If not for the applause, he would have heard you groan. Your sister said nothing, only giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

When the speeches started you practically willed your ears shut. Perhaps you would have built a tolerance to them if you had appeared at more of these events, but you couldn't bear to listen to your father and elder brother boast of their achievements to a sea of complacent, nodding heads. It was like a reminder that within the kingdom your father built, you served your purpose by distracting that assassin some years ago and now outlived your usefulness. At this gala, you were decoration only a few ranks higher than a potted plant.

You thanked any and all higher powers when the speeches were over. Father and his crown prince had left the stage to begin their targeted commingling with VIPs, prompting you and your siblings to stand from your seats. They all dispersed before you could look to them to follow their lead. When you stumbled off the stage and distanced yourself from it by leaning against the wall as you walked, hardly any attention came your way. Thankfully, the attention you did receive was from Petra.

"Prince, are you alright? You look troubled," she said, sidling up to you.

"What do I do, Petra?" you asked, intimidated by the sheer size of the room and the attendees within it. Each table was like its own little kingdom with strangers you didn't know and faux-pas to stumble over.

"See how each table has an empty chair or two?" She pointed to the tables nearest you, one full of scaly Sāmm-abraṣ emissaries and another with human diplomats bearing the flag of Bavaria. You nodded. "All the guests are expected to stay seated while dinner is served. They won't get up to dance and drink until the meal is concluded. Right now, only people from the host kingdom— like you, me, your siblings, and other members of the court— will be walking around."

"So I just sit at whichever table and introduce myself?"

"If you even need to. The fact you're walking will show them you're hosting. They'll pay you proper respect without you saying anything at all."

"Hm," you mused. That sounded like a lot of work, especially since you weren't aiming to meander. Finding Amon would be immeasurably more difficult once the crowd was disorganized and inebriated, though, so now was your best chance.

"I've a copy of your list, Prince. Shall I help you navigate it?" Petra asked, holding up parchment.

"Yes, let's," you said. The lengthy document threatened to touch the floor. "Let's begin alphabetically."

"Alphabetically, Prince?"

"By first name."

"Of course, Prince. That means we should visit Aariyeh, Sardar of Anatolia, followed by Abdul II, Knez of Smederevo—"

"Any Eparchs on that list?" You winced at your own forwardness. The charade was wearing dangerously thin.

"...Eparchs?"

"I'm in an Eparch mood at the moment," you explained weakly. Petra looked at you as if checking for signs of illness.

"I see. There's one: Amon II of Nobatian Lower Makuria and Alodia."

"He sounds splendid. Take me to him."

Petra, either from exasperation, deference, or both, folded up the list and took your arm without another word. She led you through the clusters of gala attendees. You could feel every one of their eyes watching you as you caught their attention. Just as the scrutiny was starting to become too much, your eyes found a target of their own. A warm shiver ran through your spine, a sensation the French would call déjà rêvé: a dream made real.

His verdigris eyes locked onto yours. They peered at you from behind short, white curls of shiny hair. His skin reminded you of the bluebells in the gardens, and his pert, curled horns were a shade darker. He flashed something between a grin and a smirk at you, revealing pearlescent teeth with canines that could be mistaken for fangs.

Amon was breathtaking and he knew it.

If your arm wasn't in Petra's grasp already, you never would have made it to the chair. She struggled a bit as she plopped you into it, your leg brace protesting with clicks and creaks. The other tieflings at the table, all varying shades of azure, stopped what they were doing to acknowledge your arrival. You gave them a weak nod while you regained your composure.

"Greetings, delegation from Lower Makuria and Elodia. I'd like to introduce you to our Middle Prince," Petra said from over your shoulder, upon which she planted a firm hand. She squeezed hard.

"I'm pleased to meet you all," you managed to get out. Your audience of tieflings nodded and muttered.

"As am I, Middle Prince." Amon set his cutlery down and rested his chin on interlaced fingers. His voice was high and carried a boyish, scheming air; you envisioned him stealing lumps of sugar from a pantry. "I didn't think my kingdom warranted such a visit. What brings you to my little exclave of Nobatia?"

"A whim."

"How quaint," he said, still smirking. His gaze shifted as he eyed his all-tiefling entourage. The intent was to communicate something, though you didn't know what.

"I am the middle prince, after all. I've few obligations. None, actually," you said.

"Hm," Amon said, looking decidedly amused. "We may have more in common than we thought." His retinue nodded along with his observation.

"Surely you are a busy man? You are Eparch of not one, but two territories."

"Do you know what the title 'Eparch' entails, Middle Prince?" Amon said, more as a targeted quip than an actual question.

"I... am not familiar, I admit," you ceded.

"An Eparch is a figurehead. Makuria and Alodia have long been ruled by invaders and rebels, respectively. I'm kept in a symbolic position to preserve what's left of Nobatian culture," Amon sighed. "In fact, I was sent here in place of the true rulers since they thought it so unlikely that you would have anything important to say to us. Anything other than absorbing us into your hegemony, of course."

You averted your gaze. He clearly was not happy with his status, and while his discontent wasn't targeted at you, it hovered about him like a cloud. He picked at the remainder of his meal while the cloud dissipated and you plucked a topic from the clearing air.

"How was your journey here? You've come a long way," you said.

"It was pleasant enough. Your trains and... horseless carriages are quite impressive," Amon said, pausing. "What's your name for them again?"

"Automobiles," you answered.

"Yes, automobiles." He rolled the word in his mouth as if tasting wine. "Though you have such a fine river and only use it for cargo. A felucca would have made my journey quite enjoyable."

"A felucca?"

"Ah, it's my turn to inform you." Amon smiled. "A felucca is a sailboat we use on the Nile. It's built for comfort, with carpets instead of hardwood decks. Some even come with a kitchen, and it's unheard of to sail without finishing a pot of tea."

"It sounds lovely," you said. "Lavender tea, I hope."

Amon raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, my favorite," he looked amused. "How did you know?"

"A whim," you answered. "The same one that brought me over to your table."

"I see." His eyes locked with yours for a lengthy pause. His retinue shifted in their seats at the uncomfortable silence. He was thinking hard about something, but the subject of his thoughts remained unknown to you. If he truly shared the dreams with you, surely you must have gotten the point across by now?

"It was lovely chatting with you, Middle Prince." He broke the silence and straightened his posture. "But I would hate to keep you when you have other guests to see."

"I really don't—"

"Nonsense, my prince," he interrupted, "go on and mingle. Perhaps, if we're lucky, our paths will cross when the festivities begin in earnest."

You couldn't believe your eyes. Did he wink at you?

"Of course..." you said, slowly realizing he was scheming. "Enjoy the gala." He locked eyes with you again.

"Oh, we will."

You had resumed hovering with Petra on the edges of the great hall. More staff had filed in to take away dirty dishes and the remains of the guests' meals. The dance floor had been opened, the musicians were in position, and staff bearing silver trays readied drinks for the merry and hors d'oeuvres for the peckish.

"How was your visit with the Eparch?" Petra asked.

"Enlightening," you answered cryptically. The need for secrecy hadn't passed, but now you were unsure of what charade to uphold. You only knew Amon was in on it as well.

"I trust that means it went well?"

"Yes, I think so." You scanned the crowd of attendees, which had now gotten up from their seats and begun to mix and intermingle. Amon disappeared like an ace into a shuffled deck. Petra flashed you an impatient expression.

"Prince, do you want me to help you get with him or not?" She said with folded arms.

"Petra!" You gasped. "You're rather forward."

"It's quite literally my job to make sure you end up with him if you wish it, Prince," she assumed a stern tone as if you refused your vegetables. "Give me a yes or no."

You stewed under her gaze. It seemed the pressure and time-sensitive nature of the gala had started to affect her as well, though for different reasons to you.

"Yes." You muttered. She didn't ask for confirmation, instead slipping away into the crowd with nothing more than a nod. Was this part of the charade, still? You had no idea what Amon even wanted, or frankly, what you wanted from tonight.

The musicians started and the small groups that had formed on the edge of the dance floor produced couplets of dancers. They were eager to begin the waltz, a somewhat contentious dance that had only recently come into popularity.  You hadn't been practiced in it, instead learning of court dances like the cotillion. As you watched it take place, the dancers seemed awfully close. They were practically pressed against one another!

While you tried to discern the intricacies of this new style of dance before you, that familiar azure face peeked at you from the crowd. Amon smiled and raised his drink in your direction. It was a small gesture but you were helpless to do anything other than join him. Before you knew it, you were at his side in the sea of people and some sort of libation had been thrust into your hand.

"You know, I'm starting to grow partial to this stuff," Amon said, sipping on a duplicate of the drink you held.

"I was under the impression your faith disallowed the consumption of alcohol," you said, watching him finish the glass.

"An easy mistake to make." He handed off the glass to a roving staff member. "Modern Makurians and Alodians don't drink. Nobatians like me do. It's one of the holdovers of my dead culture."

You looked at the glass in hand; it was a clear, cold drink with a slice of lime. As you expected, the taste was bitter and unwelcoming.

"You like gin?" You asked, one taste enough to identify it.

"As I said, it's starting to grow on me," Amon chuckled. "It's not good enough to stop me from missing home, but it'll get me through the night."

"Speaking of home..." you started, looking around. You were unable to spot any other blue-skinned tieflings in the crowd. "where has your retinue gone?"

"I told them to enjoy themselves. As my courtiers, that means they're likely hovering by the exit, waiting to escort me out of here when I leave."

"They seem like a serious bunch."

"They're overprotective," Amon hissed. "As I said, my culture is long dead. They see it as dying. They think they can save it by putting me in a glass case for future generations to study."

"You've given up on Nobatia?"

"Pah! Of course I have!" He deftly procured another drink from a passing waiter. "Nothing will bring the old country back. Nobatia is a minuscule region; I can say with certainty I'm the youngest one left. When I'm old and infirm, Makuria and Alodia will reject the idea of a royal family entirely and I'll finally be allowed to be forgotten."

"That's quite a bleak outlook, Eparch," you gently chided. "Perhaps in war, things would be on a fixed course, but matters of diplomacy are more malleable."

"Perhaps," Amon said, sipping his gin. "But that's enough about me. I'd like to know more about you."

His eyes looked into yours as if he would magick the information he wanted straight out of you. No incantations were uttered, though, and you took a pragmatic sip of gin to fill the pause.

"What would you like to know?" You said.

"I'd like to know about this 'whimsy' you have," Amon probed. "To be frank, my prince, I expected to be out the door by now. Instead, I'm here, conversing with you. It doesn't make sense."

You finished your gin. This was as good a time as any to explain yourself.

"What do you know of oneiromancy?" The question left your lips and slapped Amon across the face. He chuckled.

"The school of magick so vague and unmeasurable it's not even officially recognized?"

"It seems you know the same as most," you said. "Oneiromancy is real. At least, real enough to give me the same dream night after night."

"I see..." Amon was mulling something over.

"In each one of these dreams, though my waking memory is hazy, I remember one thing they all had in common." You took a deep breath. "You."

"We should discuss this in private," Amon interjected, gently brushing your hand against his. You had been so caught up with telling Amon that you forgot you were in the middle of a crowded gala. Concern crept into the corners of his face. "Do you have a place we can go?"

You nodded and grasped his hand in earnest. The spot you took him to was one of the many balconies that overlooked the palace gardens. The sun had set fully at this point, and waltz music lazily floated out of the great hall. A few revelers who had over-indulged caught the fresh air in the hedges below. You and Amon rested on the cool marble balustrade, momentarily admiring the mingling of crickets, music, distant conversation, and the night air.

"I've been having the dreams as well. All of them involving you in some... capacity. I wasn't sure it was you at first. The dreams were so vague..." Amon kept his gaze fixed on the gardens below.

"Were the dreams... um, did you wake up... well..." you stammered. He looked at you knowingly.

"Yes, a few times," Amon answered. He didn't seem nearly as embarrassed as you. "You suspect oneiromancy is at play?"

"The court oneiromancers determined the dreams are being intentionally created. They're not a coincidence."

"Court oneiromancers?" Amon nearly spat out his drink. "My, you do have everything in this kingdom."

"Yes, we have court oneiromancers, but your surprise is beside the point." You had finally found the mysterious Amon, and you didn't want to waste any time on tangents. "Surely you're just as curious as I? Do you know anything about these dreams?" Amon drained the remainder of his gin in response.

"When I was a child..." He paused and shook his head. "When I was a child, my mother told me folk tales. The standard stuff: damsels in distress, slaying horrific beasts, that sort of thing. But she also told me tales of lovers who met in dreams. She said that was how she and father met."

"Something tells me you don't believe in that."

"When I grew too old for fairy tales, I saw it as her way of helping me keep hope that the one would be out there. With Nobatia falling and no suitors left..." he trailed off, setting his empty glass on the balustrade.

"So what if she's right?"

"That's a rather large 'if,' my prince. She was the only one that believed in that stuff... Aside from an uncle who would tell more dreamers-to-lovers tales, but only after drinking too much boukha, and always with a sarcastic tongue. They're just that: tales."

You felt Amon's cloud of discontent precipitate once more. His words were scathing, but not towards you; they spoke to a painful past and familiarity with disappointment. He saw something hopeful, happy, and promising, then cast it down in order to never feel the pain of losing it. You rarely had such clear insights about people, but with Amon it was different. It was as if you had known him for a long time and learned the language spoken by his brow, posture, and eyes. You knew what you had to do.

"Amon," you sighed, placing a hand on his, "even fairy tales originate from some truth, even if only a little. Don't be afraid to entertain the notion that your mother might be right."

You tried to look him in the eyes, but he cast his gaze down to the gardens below. His quick tongue failed him and silence ensued. His hand had reluctantly surrendered itself to your grasp, resting warm and limp.

"Look at me," You commanded with a firmer tone than expected. Reluctantly, he swiveled towards you and his aquamarine eyes found their way to yours. "Think about what you truly want. Don't be afraid to take it."

He swallowed. After a pause of a few heartbeats, his free hand grasped the back of your head, entwined his fingers in your hair, and pressed your lips to his. Your hand that held his grasped even tighter. The two of you were entwined in your own scandalous waltz. You could feel his hunger just as clearly as you felt his discontent when he parted your lips with his tongue. You reciprocated, catching fleeting impressions of his sharp teeth. He tasted like gin and figs. Short, passionate gasps and moans escaped the two of you and joined the chorus of crickets. You pulled away only to catch your breath.

"Amon," you gasped, his name sweet on your tongue. He looked at you with a bewildered expression and flushed navy cheeks. Neither of you could believe what just happened, yet surprise gave way to familiarity. Kissing Amon made your heart race but your shoulders relax. Being breathless and panting in his embrace was as recognizable to you as Petra's morning wake-up calls, or the smell of the gardens, or the feeling of your bedchamber floor on your bare feet. Déjà rêvé.

"I..." Amon sighed, "I shouldn't. I've had too much gin. I've been foolish." He released you from his arms and took several steps backward. Your jaw hung agape as he jogged inside and disappeared from view. Too shocked to try to catch him, you remained outside and alone on the balcony with only the sound of crickets and distant strings to keep you company. Just as silently and perceptively as a cat, Petra crept from the doorway a short while later.

"I saw Amon run away and came to check on you." She looked at your expression and reciprocated with a downtrodden look of her own. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know. Probably not." You sighed and buried your face in your elbows until all you could see was the balustrade. You sensed Petra take a few steps towards you.

"What happened?" She asked delicately.

"We kissed, passionately. Then he said he was foolish and ran away," you mumbled into your self-embracing arms. Petra rested a hand on your shoulder.

"Some people just can't handle the fast pace and the pressure at galas like this. I'm sure it wasn't personal."

"I know..." you sighed. To Petra, your attempts at flirting simply failed to land. She didn't see the dreams. She didn't see the look in his eyes. She didn't hear the fear of hope in his voice. There were not enough hours in the night to explain to her the true extent of your sorrows.

"There's always tomorrow, Prince."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tonight is only for the Gala," Petra explained, her tender tone turning slightly optimistic, "anyone attending will be staying at least until tomorrow night for the treaty signing."

"So Amon is still here, then?" you asked, finally pulling your forehead from its resting place on your folded arms.

"He was likely running to the guest wing of the palace, where all the other dignitaries will be. If you truly wish to meet with him again, breakfast tomorrow morning would be an excellent opportunity."

You considered things for a moment. If Amon were to stay one more night, then that was one more dream to share. Tonight, you and Amon would spring awake in bed at the same time after another shared dream, but he would be only a few corridors away.

"Petra, get me an oneiromancer." You commanded.

"An oneiromancer? At this time of night? They're probably attending the gala with the rest of the court."

"Petra, this is important," you said. "I haven't exactly been forthcoming about everything in these recent days, and I'm sorry for that... but I need an oneiromancer before I sleep tonight. If you can do this for me, I promise to explain everything soon."

Petra looked at you silently, deciding whether or not to press you for details now rather than later contingent on your promise. She chose the former, nodding and silently fast-walking inside.

Alone once more on the balcony, you leaned on the balustrade and studied the stars. The moon's halo of illuminated night sky was the same color as Amon's lips. With any luck, you'd be seeing them again soon in tonight's dream.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 40 | End

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 6.9k

; Warnings: Slight anxiety attack, mentions of panic, slight body issues

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: So...this is it 😢 Flower is officially over! I started writing this on November 15th, 2019. Almost a year later, here we are with 40 chapters, 3 drabbles and 180k of words. Can you believe I actually finished it? I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading it and the journey of the MC finding herself and falling in love with Hoseok. It’s been so fun to write and it’s sad to let it go. If you’ve enjoyed reading this, please let me know with a comment or an ask! I’ve loved reading how much you’ve all felt seen or embraced by the MC with her struggles and I’d love to hear your thoughts on not only this chapter but the whole fic! Feedback is what keeps authors going and I came very close to leaving writing once Flower was finished but I’m still going to carry on. I’m not sure if this chapter is good or not, but I hope you enjoy it anyway and think it a fitting end to the story!

; Flower Masterpost

-

“Okay...okay. Let’s do this...you can do this. It’s easy. Just...walk down the aisle. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Well, Hoseok could not be there or I could have a heart attack and drop down dead. That would suck. But it would resolve a lot of my issues, I wouldn’t have to worry about everyone watching me. On the other hand...I’m going to marry the love of my life. As long as he turns up” The soft sounds of your muttering are probably barely heard over the soft playing music through the speakers in the room, YouTube playing mindlessly to itself.

It was a good job, as it meant that no one else in the room could hear your panicked thoughts that were being verbalised. Hoseok and you had decided to get married at an exquisite mansion hotel with the ceremony itself being in the elegant gardens outside. There was a full-sized maze alongside a stunning fountain, the centrepiece being a marble depiction of Aphrodite rising from the shallows.

You’d taken a walk around the perfectly groomed gardens the night before, taking in all the decorations that you’d painstakingly picked out over the months that had been artfully arranged by the staff. The flowers in the gardens were beautiful, a smorgasbord of pinks, oranges, violets, reds and yellows that brought the whole area to life. Alongside it looking visually perfect, it also smelled amazing as well with the soft scent of different flowers mixing.

At night, the tiny fairy lights that had been strung up around the building front and the metal trellises that were organised in the garden gave off a soft, golden glow. It made the whole place look ethereal and you were excited for everyone else to get to see it during the reception tonight.

The actual wedding ceremony was scheduled to start at two in the afternoon, with only friends and family invited for that. It would be outside as well, with Hoseok and you standing at the end of a make-shift aisle on the lawn section of the hotel’s garden. Temporary chairs had been arranged on both sides for your guests, dark wood with ivory silk draped over everyone. At the end of the aisle, each chair had a silk bow in ivory and deep purple alongside a bouquet of specially arranged flowers. 

It all looked perfect and you’d marvelled at it yesterday, amazed that they’d managed to bring your vision to life. Now all you had to do was walk down it and get married, which was where you were a little panicked.

The room that had been assigned to the bridal party was on the lower floor of the hotel, reducing the risk of you potentially killing yourself by tripping over your dress while walking down the stairs. It was technically two hotel rooms connected through a shared bathroom, which you found bizarre.

Your mom and Hoseok’s mom had taken the other room for their use to get changed, the hairdresser and makeup artist they’d hired working there to make them look their best for the ceremony. Even now, you could hear them chattering and laughing away with each other. Even through your anxiety, you can’t help but smile as you hear them get on so well.

Any fears you’d had about them not liking each other had quickly disappeared. Instead, they’d become good friends and liked to meet up now and then to have a talk over coffee or something. It pleased you to see your mom getting to have more friends.

Eden and Amelia had also chosen to get ready in that room, not wanting to crowd the one you were in too much. It was already full of dresses and a ridiculous amount of makeup and hair product with only four of you so you couldn’t even imagine the chaos with five of you.

In your room was Soyeon, Chungha and Dahyun alongside you. Dahyun was currently three months pregnant, having successfully been inseminated with Jungkook’s sperm. He’d agreed to their request and after a few months of getting prepared for the attempts, Dahyun had undergone the procedure. What it had been exactly, you didn’t know because you hadn’t felt it was your business to pry into something like that.

It was a privilege to even know they were trying before anyone else. Their announcement had come at your bachelorette party when Dahyun had refused alcohol, immediately leading Soyeon and you to be suspicious. You’d never seen Chungha’s beloved ever turn down a drink so it had been a clear sign of something at least.

Needless to say, your party had happily become a celebration of their impending baby. Thankfully, you weren’t one of those people who got overly annoyed at others announcing things at events. Or at least, not big events. Your bachelorette party had been a perfect time to find out, whereas you might not have been so amenable if they’d told everyone today instead.

That was normal though, right? Today was your day. Yours and Hoseok’s. People who felt the need to co-opt special days like that were a special type of self-absorbed in your opinion.

Given it was so early into her pregnancy, Dahyun isn't showing that much. Which meant her bridesmaid dress hadn’t needed to be altered too much. None of them has gotten into their dresses just yet, instead currently in the process of getting their face and hair done. Chungha’s hair has already been done, elegantly styled into a beautiful updo with a few tendrils curled around her face.

The makeup for the girls was a smokey eye with subtle blush and contour, alongside a neutral lip. It wasn’t anything flashy, but you’d loved the concept of it all. Particularly with the small and delicate crystals that dotted along their waterline, adding a little sparkle to match the tiny crystals on their deep violet dresses.

As a present to each of them, you’d bought them a gift set from Pandora. In each one was a pair of dainty stud earrings with a heart design alongside a matching heart-shaped pendant necklace. All the hearts were encrusted with brilliant-cut stones, making the perfect gift that could be used again in the future for casual use.

They’d all been in awe of it and surprised at being given presents as well. You hadn’t even known it was a thing until you’d looked up wedding preparation online, discovering that you should also buy something for Hoseok. Which had led to you buying him the fancy watch he’d been drooling over for months now. It had been eye-watering expensive, but it had been worth it for his excited text this morning.

Along with the watch, you’d also written him a letter. It was meant to be light-hearted and fun, but you’d ended up writing way too much as you’d poured out your love to him alongside everything you felt for him. To your eternal embarrassment, you’d ended up crying while writing it as you’d told him everything you’d never been able to vocalise, including writing possibly a million times that you love him.

He’d been instructed to not read that until just before the ceremony.

His present to you was a gaming table, which might not seem to be very sentimental to anyone else but you’d been ecstatic over it. For years now, you’d been saying that you wanted to buy a proper table that was designed for board games and that could then be used as a normal table when converted. They were super expensive so you’d resigned yourself to never getting one, but he’d printed out the receipt of what he’d ordered and put it into an envelope for you to open tonight.

Neither of you had ever been a traditional couple, and that certainly wasn’t about to change with marriage.

“Hey, you okay?” Amelia asks, interrupting your intense thought process as she sits down next to you. As usual, her aura is warm and reassuring as she reaches over to gently squeeze at your hand. You don’t spend a huge amount of time around her, but you knew both Eden and her enough to want them in your bridal party.

“Yes? No? Maybe? I don’t know. I’m just…” Trailing off, you struggle to find the right words and instead gesture towards the air. It makes no sense but you can’t quite figure out what you’re trying to say. Mainly because you can’t figure out what your mind is thinking.

“It’s okay to be worried, don’t feel like you shouldn’t be. If you’re anxious or nervous then that’s okay as well. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should be feeling, just feel what you are. Trust Hoseok, trust yourself and all your family and friends. We’re all here for you and we want you to have the best day possible. Tell us if anything is wrong, okay? I have no doubt that Chungha and Soyeon would strong-arm everyone into whatever was necessary to make you feel comfortable.” She says, smirking as she nods over to the two women who are chattering away in their respective chairs.

“I know, I know. I’m trying. It’s just...god, everyone is going to be staring at me and I hate being the centre of attention,” Looking down at your hands, you chew at your lips. “What if I mess up the vows? Or I freeze or drop the ring?”

“Hey, it’s normal to feel that. I doubt there’s anyone who’s gotten married who wasn’t at least a little bit anxious about messing something up. Yes, everyone is here to watch you, but they’re for Hoseok too. I’m sure he’s just as worried that he might make a mistake, and if you do then, so what? It’s not going to ruin anything, it just means your human. If anything, people will probably find it endearing. The only person you should concern yourself with is Hoseok, and I doubt there’s anything you could do today to ruin the day for him. Unless you don’t go.” Amelia laughs when you give a shocked gasp, jaw-dropping open and eyes wide.

“I would never do that! But what if he decides he doesn’t want to get married anymore?” Now the worry that had wiggled itself deep inside your mind comes to the fore and you find yourself almost whispering the words. It feels like a betrayal to Hoseok for even thinking he’d do that, but you can’t help the fear.

You must not have been quite enough though as Chungha speaks up, facing you in her chair with a stern expression on her face as she wags her finger. “Lady, do not think that. I don’t want that thought to even enter your head. As if Jung Hoseok is ever going to back out now. I think that man would’ve eloped with you if you’d asked instead. He’s going to be standing at the end of that aisle, probably bawling like a baby.”

“Maybe not that far.” This is from Eden, who’s laid out on the bed in the centre of the room, playing Zelda on her Switch. She’d had her makeup done earlier and is now waiting for the hairdresser to be free while Amelia is waiting for her makeup. All of you had decided that you’d be last to get ready to make sure that everything looked as fresh as possible.

“Want to bet? That man is gonna be sobbing.” This starts up a whole ten-minute discussion about whether or not Hoseok was going to cry at seeing you. Namjoon hadn’t cried but Jimin had during their weddings, surprising no one. But Namjoon had cried at the birth of his daughter.

You weren’t sure, to be honest. Hoseok didn’t cry all that often and you could probably count on one hand how many times you’d seen it over four years. On top of that, you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to see him crying. It made your chest hurt when he did and you always ended up crying too.

Something about seeing strong and proud men cry was just heartbreaking to you. 

For a while, you just sit back and let the conversation wash over you as they all debate and borderline argue, intensely amongst themselves. They’d all switched around now and they’ll soon start getting into their bridesmaid’s dresses, which meant you’d be finally getting ready.

Your nails had been done the night before with a beautiful design in the same colour scheme as the wedding. They looked so pretty and elegant, which was a surprise to you every time you looked at them as you never really bothered doing your nails. While you liked to do fancy makeup looks now and then to post onto social media, nails were not something you were interested in.

Maybe you should reassess that thought.

“Anyway, what we’re all trying, and failing, to say is that Hoseok loves you and if he doesn’t cry then he’s crying inside at how beautiful you are.” Soyeon states firmly, sitting next to you and admiring your nails as well. All the bridesmaids had the same style to keep the theme going and she wiggled her fingers with a bright smile.

“I’m not even ready yet, you don’t know if I’ll be beautiful.”

There’s dead silence in the room after the comment, with even the hairdresser and makeup artist turning to stare at you. Between the six other women in the room, you’re pretty sure that they’ve got every emotion from shock to annoyance to incredulity covered. Feeling yourself get warm at their attention, you look down to your lap in embarrassment.

Obviously, the wrong thing to say.

“Okay, we’re going to ignore that you just said that. You don’t need to be dolled up and in a wedding dress to be beautiful, it’s just going to enhance what you already have. And I don’t want any arguments on that.” Poking your side lightly, you playfully wince at Soyeon as she scolds you. Everyone else is nodding along solemnly before they carry on with whatever they’d been doing.

“Seriously though, I overheard your conversation with Amelia. She’s right. Embrace your feelings but don’t let them overwhelm you. Standing in front of a crowd is nerve-wracking for anyone, but you’ve got the love of your life standing there with you. Just focus on Hoseok, he’ll get you through it. He always has, right?” Soyeon said.

Giving her a half-smile, you nod and do a remarkably good job of looking like a scolded child or something. You know it’s just because she loves you that she doesn’t want you to berate yourself, along with the fact that she knows what you’re like. If someone doesn’t verbally acknowledge your problems then you’ll just obsess over them.

Your phone screen lights up in your lap before it begins to vibrate suddenly, Hoseok’s name visible on the screen. Frowning down at it, you wonder why he’s calling before a multitude of emotions and thoughts runs through your mind.

“Go take it in the bathroom.” Pulling you up, Soyeon practically pushes you into the bathroom before giving you a smile and a thumbs-up as she closes the door.

Seeing the other door is also open, you peek out and let everyone in that room know that you’d be using the bathroom for a few minutes and to not come in. Once you get the acknowledgement, you close and lock it as well before pushing up to sit on the counter.

“Hobi! Why are you calling?” Leaning back against the mirror, you frown deeply as you question him. The first response is just his familiar deep chuckle, the sound already helping to soothe some of your frayed nerves.

“Amelia texted Joon, who told me. I don’t want you to stress yourself out! Not today, today’s meant to be a happy day. No stress. Or anxiety.” Snorting, you roll your eyes as you trace an invisible design onto your thigh.

“Sure, like that’s gonna happen. You know me. And why are you calling? We’re not meant to see each other until the wedding, it’s bad luck!” There’s a brief pause and you can practically hear him rolling his eyes, the deep sigh he lets out telling you all you need to know.

“Meeps, I’m pretty sure that only counts for physically seeing each other. I can’t see you right now. I don’t recall anything about not being allowed to hear you, or talk to you. Besides, we make our luck.” He sounds so nonchalant and now it’s your turn to sigh at him.

“You’re going to get us hit by lightning or something.”

“Impossible, the weather schedule for today is meant to be sunny with a little bit of cloud later on. Nice warm temperatures that aren’t too hot but also not too cold. Perfect. No lightning.” His immediate rebuttal has you laughing, unable to stay mad at him for too long. Not when he’s trying so hard to take your mind off things.

“Seriously though, are you okay? What are you worried about? Talk to me.” Hoseok asks, his voice calm and steady as he stops joking around. There’s a brief moment of resistance, the thought that you don’t want to bother him with your silly thoughts or annoying emotions before you remember that you can trust him. No matter how ridiculous it sounds in your head, Hoseok will listen and he won’t make fun of you.

“I’m just...scared. Of all the people. Like, they’re going to be watching me or staring. What if I look fat or ugly? Or I fuck up saying the vows? Or I drop the ring or my dress splits or something? Or if I trip down the aisle?! Or if you decide you don’t want to marry me anymore?” As you begin to reel off the questions that have been plaguing your mind, you can feel your chest getting a little tighter and your breathing shallower.

With the practised ease of someone who’s dealt with your panic attacks over the years, Hoseok makes calming and reassuring noises over the phone until you’re silent. Just listening to him, you take in the comforting words as he lets you know that you’re okay and everything is fine. Finally, once he thinks you’re calm enough, he carries on.

“Meeps, that’s fine. Don’t be upset that you’re having those thoughts. I’ve had every one of those thoughts today as well. I mean...not the dress one. Substitute that for pants splitting or something, which is even more embarrassing because my underwear is not black today. But the point I’m trying to make here is that it’s normal to have those thoughts today. I’d probably be more worried if you weren’t having them.” He pauses to laugh before you hear shuffling noises.

There’s no doubt he’s probably not even getting into his tuxedo just yet and you curse the fact that men take far less time to get ready than women. He’ll probably only start like...an hour before the ceremony begins or something.

“But all I’ll say is, it doesn’t matter if anything goes wrong because we’ll fix it. You and me, just like always. You won’t look fat or ugly because you’re neither fat nor ugly anyway, instead, you’ll be the most beautiful woman here. Which you always are to me but don’t let my mom hear me tell you that. And I’m going to be standing at the end of the aisle, I promise you that. I’m the one who proposed to you and I will be there, waiting for you. That’s one thing I can assure you of completely.” Hoseok says this firmly, his voice perhaps more serious than you’ve ever heard it before.

You can practically feel his determination to make you understand that he’s going to be there. That he’s going to marry you today, no matter what happens. It makes your heart swell with love and emotion, causing you to press your hand against your mouth.

Hoseok takes your silence as a positive, choosing to let it carry on for a little longer before speaking once more.

“I love you, Meeps. And by the end of today, you’re going to be my wife. We’re going to have a great day with a beautiful ceremony and a fun reception before probably going to bed drunk. Or at least, I’m going to be drunk. Not entirely sure if I’ll be able to take you to Poundtown tonight-”

“Don’t ever say that again.” 

“But if not tonight then definitely tomorrow. Unless you don’t want me to drink, in which case probably tonight if you’re up for it.” Shaking your head, you can’t help but smile at his stupid comments. He always knew how to cheer you up, even if it was with the most ridiculous thing you’d heard today.

“You can drink, I’m not going to make you sober throughout the entire reception. I want you to have fun with everyone, so if you end up drunk then that’s fine. Just don’t go overboard.”

“Choosing to ignore my Poundtown comments, I see.” 

“Jung Hoseok, I am going to hang up now. I will see you later, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” Feeling a little shy, you murmur your next words into the phone.

“Love you too.”

-

The ceremony is officially about to start and you stare at the open door, knowing that outside all your guests are waiting. Not only that, but Hoseok is at the end of the aisle. You’d been reassured by everyone there who had peeked out to make sure, quelling your fears and worries.

All the groomsmen had come inside upon finding out you were here, lining themselves up alongside their specified bridesmaid partners and chatting away happily. They all looked incredibly handsome in their suits, the colours matching the bridesmaids perfectly and you felt a little pride at having thought of a good colour scheme.

Your mom is fussing around you, making sure that your dress looks perfect and that your bouquet hasn’t fallen apart or anything. Sighing, you gently push her hands away as she tries once more to move your necklace.

All of them had given you something as part of the tradition for the bride. Dahyun had lent you a beautiful Cartier bracelet, glowing with diamonds, as part of the ‘something borrowed’ while Chungha had bought you diamond earrings for the ‘something new’. Your mom had given you the bracelet she’d worn for her wedding, now occupying your other wrist and Hoseok’s mom had provided the necklace adorning your neck.

It was a beautiful silver necklace with a dainty leaf design, leading to the main piece in the centre which was dotted with tiny diamonds. Each leaf spreading out had either amethyst or an aquamarine gem in alternating order. She’d ordered it specially made for your wedding, matching your engagement ring with the gems and fulfilling the ‘something blue’.

You’d been amazed at everything they’d given you, understanding now why they’d all told you now to buy any jewellery for the day. They’d all decided to make sure you had everything you needed anyway.

But you knew that your mom’s need to keep straightening out your dress or brushing away unseen dust was just to keep herself preoccupied. She’d already cried once when you’d come out in your wedding dress, makeup and hair all done. That had earned her an exasperated sigh from the makeup artist.

“Mom, mom, come on,” You coo to her, smiling before taking her hands and squeezing. “You gotta go out there, go get your place.” 

She hesitates for a moment, unwilling to leave you before nodding. After a few words of reassurance from her to you, telling you that you’re going to do well and it’s all going to go fine, she turns and hugs your dad tightly before kissing him. You’d feel embarrassed at the sight of it, never quite being comfortable with your parents' displays of affection, but it just causes you to laugh softly.

Once she’s out the door, you hear the music begin from outside, the notes flowing through the door faintly. Everyone inside quietens and you can almost feel the excitement ramp up. It just makes you feel more nervous though, particularly when they start to head out in their pairs slowly.

“Are you ready?” Your dad asks, his eyes already going glassy with tears as his lip wobbles slightly. Giving him a concerned look, you immediately reach up to wipe the tears as they start to fall, feeling your heartbreak at the sight of your dad crying. He never cried.

“Dad! Don’t cry, oh my god. I’m sorry.” Cleaning up his face quickly, you’re stopped by the gentle way he grasps your wrists. For a moment, you think that he’s going to push you away but instead, he pulls you closer and carefully hugs you.

It’s a little awkward as you’re trying not to ruin the carefully done hair and makeup, but you can’t deny your dad a hug. Especially when you’d never really been much of a hugger growing up. You would be cruel to deny him one, especially on your wedding day. Your parents were feeling emotional that their little girl was getting married today.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just your old dad getting sappy. You look so beautiful. Hoseok is so lucky, you better remind him of that every day.” He’s pulled back now, giving you the softest smile that is still a little watery. His hands move to your shoulders and he stands back to examine you fully, his eyes taking in everything.

Before you can respond to him, Yoongi is disappearing out of the door and heading towards the aisle. He’s alone, as you’d planned, but in one hand is the bouquet that Hoseok’s sister would’ve held had she still been alive. It had been his suggestion to hold it, symbolising the family member that Hoseok didn’t have anymore and you’d been more than willing to agree.

You wondered what Hoseok thought when he saw it as neither of you had told him that Yoongi would be holding it. Hopefully, he was happy with it, along with his parents.

Turning back to you, your dad squeezes your shoulders reassuringly before smiling at you. Ironically, all it does is make you more nervous as you realise that now you’re the one who’s going to have to walk down that aisle next. 

“Come on, it’s time to make your fiancé cry.” His words in a teasing tone, your dad turns to face the door before offering you his arm. Standing there, you stare at him before looking at the door with trepidation. Nerves roil in your stomach as you hear the faint sound of music playing, knowing that everyone out there is waiting for you.

Which in turn means everyone will be staring at you.

Those nerves quickly turn to anxiety and your breath comes faster, chest feeling a little constricted by the tight bodice of the dress. Without even realising it, your hands start to shake and the bouquet in them shudders visibly.

Quickly, your dad takes the bouquet from you to make sure that you don’t accidentally deflower them or crush the stems. The last thing you needed was to ruin your perfect bouquet only minutes before you were supposed to walk down the aisle.

It frees up your hands and you find yourself flapping them as you stress, trying to shake out the negative emotions as you pant. Your dad’s eyes widen, obviously panicking himself at your obvious distress. He’s never had to deal with you struggling like this before and he doesn’t know what to do but his paternal instincts kick in quickly.

“Hey, come on, sweetheart. Breathe, breathe. Take a big breath in, come on, that’s it. Not let it out slowly. And again, that’s right.” Talking to you in his comforting voice, tone level and low, you follow his instructions and start to feel a little calmer as you force yourself to calm your breathing. It’s hard, and you still feel the anxiety but it feels a little more manageable now.

Closing your eyes, you run through all the tips your therapist had given you for how to cope with anxiety attacks. What worked for you was to sing in your head, the lyrics, whatever song you were loving lately. It probably takes longer than you’d have liked but finally you feel like you can cope with your emotions enough to carry on.

When you open your eyes again, your dad is giving you an expectant, yet worried, look. Shaking your hands once more, you reach out and take the bouquet from him before taking a deep breath. Linking your arm through his, you straighten your shoulders and lift your chin before smiling at him.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

-

Walking down the aisle is surprisingly less stressful than you’d imagined. The famous wedding song plays through the air as you walk slowly and the whole atmosphere feels almost like a fairytale. The soft lights twinkle even in the daylight while the gentle, warm breeze makes the ribbons on the chairs flutter delicately.

Along the floor, the white and purple rose petals that Namjoon’s daughter had spread in her role as flower girl were strewn haphazardly. A few of them caught the breeze and rolled delicately to a new place, making it seem like the floor was consistently changing. You liked it, smiling at the sight of how beautiful everything looked.

Everyone was staring at you, as you’d expected, but surprisingly it wasn’t as intimidating as you’d thought. You didn’t exactly enjoy it but it wasn’t terrible. Probably because you were more focused on initially admiring how perfect everything looked. How months and months of thought and money had finally accumulated into the perfect wedding.

But mostly, you weren’t as bothered by the staring because you were focused on the end of the aisle. There was no real altar here, given that it was being held at a hotel and everything, but the metal garden arch at the end had been decorated in delicate flowers, ribbons and lights to make an even better end.

And beneath it stood Hoseok.

If you’d ever thought Hoseok looked handsome before then it paled in comparison to him today. His black tuxedo made him look tall and slim, every part of him looking perfectly put together and elegant. The deep purple waistcoat beneath his jacket contrasted with the white of his shirt perfectly; the colour combination making his skin almost glow with health and happiness.

There was only the slightest hint of tattoos at the edge of his collar, leaving to the imagination the artwork he had permanently on his body beneath his clothes but you didn’t need to imagine. You’d seen them all, traced them delicately into your memory over the years until you could point out where they were without even seeing them.

Finally reaching him, you paused to look at your dad and gave him a bright smile of gratitude before giving him a second hug. This one was a little tighter than before and when you let go of him, you saw that he was crying once more. He didn’t give your hand to Hoseok, instead just gave him a stern look while trying to surreptitiously wipe away his tears.

“You look after her, Jung Hoseok. You make sure she’s the happiest woman.” There’s iron in his voice, telling Hoseok that it wasn’t a question but more a command. But there’s also love and affection in it, something Hoseok can tell as well by the way he nods his head.

Handing your bouquet to Chungha, you take Hoseok’s proffered hand. Up close, you can take in the details of his face better and you take a moment to simply admire him and imprint him into your memory.

The sides of his head had been shaven, the undercut short and seen with the style he’d chosen to wear today. His hair had been styled back, pushed away from his forehead. It was a look that had made you weak in the knees many times over the years and you’d practically begged him to have it for the wedding, knowing that he’d blow everyone’s mind with how handsome he looked.

Hoseok had a face that looked like it had been hand-carved by the gods from the finest marble anyway and this hairstyle showed off all the highlights of his face. The high cheekbones that made his smiles so animated, his cutting jawline, the clean slope of his nose, the heart-shaped smile that lit his entire face and the dimples that made him seem so human. 

His lip ring was still in, the silver shining in the sunlight. He’d been unsure whether to wear it but you’d told him to embrace himself and keep it. You’d fallen in love with him as he was, and you wanted him to show himself how you saw him. Which included his piercings and tattoos.

Your heart clenched though when you looked into his eyes finally. Hoseok’s eyes were one of your favourite things about him. The crescents they turned into when he smiled brightly, pushed into the shape by his cheeks and the way his eyes could practically dance with delight when he was happy.

Today though, those beautiful and expressive eyes were watery with tears. The wet streak on his cheek told you that he’d already had some of them fall and you frowned at the sight of them. Everyone had been right; Hoseok had cried upon seeing you down the aisle.

“Baby.” You whisper, unsure if you’re meant to talk to him. Deciding you don’t care, you reach up to wipe away the tears and smile when he kisses the palm of your hand before nuzzling into it, uncaring of everyone else.

“Meeps, you look perfect. I read your letter, I love you too.” Before you can stop him, he’s leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. There’s a murmur in the crowd, alongside some laughter and he looks over at everyone with a raised brow.

No one says anything though and he gets a satisfied look, ignoring your shy expression as you turn away from everyone.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” Keeping your voice low, you give a hesitant smile to the official who will be taking you both through your ceremony. Hoseok lets out a snort of laughter as he squeezes your hand tight, letting his thumb run along the back of your hand lovingly.

“I don’t care. It’s our wedding, I’ll do what I want.” And before you can stop him, he turns you and gives you another kiss, this one lingering a little longer. Eyes widening, you can’t help but giggle as you hear yet more laughter.

You should be annoyed at him, but you know he’s a force of nature. Plus, you don’t care. It feels nice to know he can’t help himself.

“Okay, let’s get married, Meeps.” He grins at you before facing the officiant once more. Staring at him a moment longer, you smile at him and nod.

“Let’s get married.”

-

Hobi Hobi,

We’re getting married today! Are you excited? I hope you’re reading this when I told you to, if not then you’re cheating >:[ it feels weird to write a letter. I don’t even know if I’ve ever done this before, so I’m sorry if it sounds really cheesy and lame. What do people write in these normally? I’m just going to write what comes to mind so if it ends up sappy then you’re not allowed to tease me later about it. 

Anyway, I want you to know that I’m sorry that I suck so much at telling you how I feel and my emotions. I wish I could be one of those people who’s telling you every moment how handsome you are and how much I love you but I can’t. I’m sorry :( I’m trying, I swear! Even if I don’t get to tell you as often as you deserve, I hope you know that I love you more than anything in the world.

Don’t ever forget that, okay? Even when we’re arguing over something silly or we go to bed mad at each other, don’t forget that. I know we’re pretty good at talking things out but there’s always that chance that we could have a big blowout. So I want you to remember that I love you. 

I’m still not entirely sure what I did to deserve you, but I don’t regret sending you that message. If anything, I think I should send the Flower team a big bunch of flowers or something for creating the algorithm that brought you up as a match. Imagine if it hadn’t and I’d just deleted the app, we’d have never met and I’d still be lonely and sad.

But we did meet, and I took a chance on you by sending you that embarrassing message. And then you took a chance by actually meeting up with me and going on that date. I still remember it, and I don’t know if I ever told you but I still have the ticket for the escape room. I know you still have yours in your wallet :) Thank you for giving me your time, even if I wasn’t your type. I hope I’m your type now.

I’m not sure that I will ever be able to tell you how important you are to me. Not only myself but my life. You’ve helped me to embrace myself and learn to love myself over the years through kindness. I know my limits in terms of my mental health now and you’ve helped to support me with the medication and the therapist. Neither of those were things I’d been comfortable with doing before your encouragement. But you also gave me a safe space to break down in; somewhere that I knew I could be at my most vulnerable mentally without having to risk being hurt even more.

You held me when I cried, you comforted me when I panicked and you calmed my anxiety over the years. I can never thank you enough for helping me to understand that these aren’t deficiencies and I’m not broken. I just need a little help to get through things sometimes. At the same time, I hope that I’ve become that safe space for you as well. I know that you’re not as emotional as I am, but I feel that you’ve opened up to me about things that hurt you. I’ll keep your secrets safe and I’ll always be here for you!

I hope you’re happy with your life now. With me, and our home and our furbabies. I hope you stay happy, and if you don’t then talk to me. Please. I don’t want us to ever realise that we’re making each other unhappy and I don’t want to ever be the reason for negativity. I want to spend the rest of my life with you in our little home, growing old together as we play board games and dote on our animals while you increase your tattoo collection even more. I know that people like to say that they can’t imagine their lives with their significant other, but I really do feel like that.

My life without you would be hollow and monochrome, as you bring colour to my world and fill it with joy and happiness. I’ve never laughed as much as I have these last few years with you and I know we’ll keep that in our relationship if we try hard. 

I don’t really know where this letter is going and I’m babbling now. But I guess the main thing is just that I can’t wait to marry you. It may not be very feminist of me but I can’t wait to take your name and be your wife. I can’t wait to call you my husband. I’m going to be terrified in the ceremony and so nervous but I’ll be happy too, I promise! I still can’t believe that you picked me, out of all the women you’ve seen, to be your girlfriend and then decided that you wanted to marry me.

Jung Hoseok, I solemnly swear to treasure you for the rest of your life and make sure you know how much I love you. I might not be able to tell you all that much, but I’ll show you. I’ll make you smile and laugh, I’ll buy you things that make me think of you, I’ll hug you tight and cuddle you until you’re complaining.

So in case it wasn’t obvious enough, I love you. I just want you to know because I know I suck at telling you, like I said. I’m also bad at writing letters but what’s new? I’ll finish this off quickly so you’re not spending too long reading this. Don’t want to make you late for our wedding after all.

I love you. I love you, Jung Hoseok. I love you, Hobi. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Lots and lots and lots of love, your soon to be wife <333333

[insfiringyou]

BTS - Going Solo (Part One) - Jimin x Ara

Contains: Angst. *Potential trigger warning for descriptions of panic attacks*

Set a few months following their scene in ‘Private Moments’, Ara is faced with a decision which will change the course of her future. 

(Part Two will be uploaded soon, after a few fics focusing on some of the other members.)

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Content below the cut

‘Jimin,

We just spoke, and you asked if I was happy. I think I am. At least most days.’

Ara typed slowly. Her nails had just been manicured and were longer than she was used to. The sound of acrylics against the keyboard rang through the small hotel room. 

‘When I’m with you I can feel really happy. You can be so sweet and loving and I appreciate you always check up on me - to make sure I’m okay. Touring is hard. You know it better than anybody else, and you tried to prepare me for it.’

She gave a soft sigh, knowing no one else would hear. The words were spilling out of her fingers before her brain had time to catch up, though she knew based on experience she would eventually work out what she was trying to say. The room was dark and the white glow from the word document was starting to make her eyes water. The contact lenses had been in all day and were getting on her nerves. Still, she persevered. She could remove them once she had finished. 

‘I’ve been asked to renew my contract.’

She stopped typing, heart thudding, and realised she felt scared. Her hand moved automatically to her stomach and she exhaled slowly before taking a deep, drawn out breath. She had been practicing and it had gotten easier. At first she would panic, and find her chest rising and falling like crazy, on the verge of hyperventilation, but soon she learned the trick; it was her stomach which was supposed to be moving, not her chest. Her cheeks were a little warm and she knew it was shame she was feeling, not embarrassment. She hadn’t told him yet, despite having known for over a week. Tentatively, she continued, fingers picking up speed as she became used to the sensation of the new nails. 

‘You remember me telling you the first was on a trial basis, based on sales. Well - whatever target they set for us, we must have hit it. Even you have noticed the increase in publicity lately...the T.V appearances. They’ve asked me to film a reality show. I don’t know what they’re expecting.’

Her brow furrowed, wondering...

‘I guess they might have asked you too?’

The laptop stayed silent for a long time and she rested her hands against the small, cheap desk as she gazed at the screen. Her mind suddenly seemed blank and she felt stupid. She would never send the document to Jimin, just as she hadn’t sent the ones she had written before; three month’s worth of unopened, worthless ramblings saved in some obscure folder on her desktop, trapped in the harddrive somewhere between her acoustic recordings and photographs of hairstyles she had saved from Pinterest. She often wondered why she even bothered to save them. Her counsellor had told her, time and time again, that keeping a diary would be helpful. She could record her mood swings and track her periods, along with keeping count of what she ate; wholegrains made her bloated, red food colourings brought out a rash. She sometimes worried she might be lactose intolerant, though could handle it in coffee. That type of thing. She kept it up at first; bashfully bringing the sparkly diary into the small office she visited once a month and reciting what she had written to the man opposite. He would nod sympathetically as she spoke, making a comment from time to time; asking how she felt about what she had put. But the company was paying him to do this; all the girls went, and she sometimes wondered if it was the food diary he was really interested in. If her manager was keeping track, making sure she and the other members were not overdoing it on the full-fat salad dressing and milky lattes. 

The diary entries began to dwindle and, not long after her last week-long visit back to Seoul, the meaningless letters on her laptop started. They were usually addressed to Jimin, though she had written several to her father and one to her brother. She wasn’t good with words; she had been told that often enough at school when she would have to read out loud from the book of the week in Literature, or come up with an argument in Business Studies. Her mouth would stumble and she’d turn red, both ashamed and humiliated, until the teacher inevitably took pity on her and told her to sit back down. Writing in private was much easier, especially when she knew no one but her would see.

‘I don’t know how to feel.’

The cursor hovered, blinking at the end of the last line. There was a heavy knock at the door and Ara jumped, hands automatically reaching for the laptop lid, before a familiar female voice called out.

“Ara? Are you coming?”

She quickly gathered herself, clicking the save icon at the top of the screen. The company had arranged a group meal in the restaurant downstairs, though she had forgotten, her mind distracted by more pressing thoughts.

“In a minute…I just need to change my lenses.” She called back, moving her finger against the touchpad as a pop-up appeared. She selected the save button once more, mouth twisting as she read the title in the little window: ‘Untitled #12.’ She wondered if she would ever get around to renaming them properly.

***

“Your hair has so much texture. I wish mine were thicker.”

Ara murmured in reply before catching the young stylist’s reflection in the mirror and realising how rude she must have sounded. Da-eun had come to the company some months before and was undeniably sweet. Too sweet, Ara sometimes thought, for the business she was in. The other makeup artists and hairdressers loved to keep one ear to the wall, in case there was a chance of promotion or, she rather cynically suspected, a way to increase their pay by selling gossip, but Da-eun didn’t seem like that. At least not yet.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ara smiled into the glass at the figure behind her. “I’m glad I have you to do it for me. The roots are a nightmare!”

Da-eun returned the smile and seemed to relax, but a curious expression still played on her features as she ran the straightener gently across the dyed tips of hair. “Are you tired?”

“I didn’t get much sleep.” Ara confirmed, briefly closing her eyes. Da-eun knew not to press her, but she couldn’t help but worry the younger woman might know more than she was letting on. They had shared hotel rooms in the past and, perhaps it was the stylist's instinct, used to paying close attention to detail, but she always seemed to tell when something was amiss. It was frustrating sometimes. 

“I looked at the schedule. You’re not going on set until last so you’ll have time to rest before you go out.” Da-eun murmured helpfully. Ara nodded, relieved. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that Da-eun should quit while she could; while she was still young and hopeful and kind. 

“I just don’t have the energy right now…” Ara sighed as she felt her hair being released. The younger woman finished working the ends and unplugged the device from the dressing room table. 

“Did you sign the contract yet?” 

Her voice was inquisitive and a little optimistic. Ara had never asked, but there was always the chance that Da-eun’s contract was somehow tied to her own; that if the group were to disband, she might lose her job. Ara shook her head lightly.

“No.”

Da-eun raised an eyebrow. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“I just haven’t had time to read it properly.” She said, truthfully. “It’s come around sooner than I thought…”

The stylist moved forward, reaching for the set of hairbrushes on the counter, before selecting the biggest. She teased through the ends of hair with her short fingers before brushing lightly along the bleached roots, smoothing the locks. 

“There’s been rumours.” The younger woman said, voice suddenly low as though she were worried about being overheard. A thick curtain set apart the dressing room from the photography studio, but it was always possible someone was listening. 

Ara blinked, tensing a little. “What?”

Da-eun smiled gently. “That you’re making a solo album.”

“Oh…” The older woman wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this news took her by surprise. “I wasn’t planning on it.” She shrugged.

“That’s a relief.” Da-eun beamed with a small laugh. “I’m looking forward to going home soon. Aren’t you?”

Ara opened her mouth to speak, not sure what she was going to say, but the curtain beside them drew apart suddenly; startling them both. 

“Oh! Costume change…” Da-eun exclaimed, setting down the brush and turning to accommodate the older woman who had just entered. Mimi was a year older than Ara and usually less prone to accidents, but the leather strap on her camisole suggested a wardrobe malfunction which needed attending to at once.

“Sorry to interrupt…” The other woman murmured apologetically, gesturing to Da-eun. “Could you fix this for me?”

“Sure.” She nodded, stepping away.

Ara’s phone had vibrated against her thigh twenty minutes before but she hadn’t wanted to risk opening the text, especially with someone standing over her shoulder. As Da-eun seated Mimi in the rotating chair on the opposite side of the room to take a look at her costume, Ara took the moment to slip the device from her pocket and flick through the recent notifications. Unsurprisingly, it had been Jimin who had texted and she read the sentence a couple of times before returning it to her pocket.

‘Two more weeks. I’m looking forward to seeing you. It’s been too long.’ 

***

Ara sipped from the glass, the cool water clearing her throat and offering a much needed refreshment from the events of the day. Her voice had become raspy from singing, but luckily she didn’t need it to type. 

‘Jimin,

I was cleaning my closet before we went on tour and found the dress I was wearing on the night we met.’

She found herself smiling, a little longingly, at the memory, a strange anecdote coming to mind.

‘It still has a Daiquiri stain on the hem and it’s too big for me now. I don’t know why I’m saving it.’

The thought made her sad, somehow. 

‘I wonder if you remember that night as clearly as I do. I didn’t want to leave. I knew you were with someone else, but I didn’t care.’

A deep frown played on her otherwise gentle features.

‘Does that make me a bad person?’

It wasn’t until she read the line back, she realised the thought had never occurred to her before. Not once in five years. She wondered why it suddenly seemed to matter. With a sigh, she continued, committing her trail of thoughts to the page.

‘You told me it was over the next time we met, and I believed you, but part of me wondered if you’d go back to her, once you knew how inexperienced I was. I guess I know how you feel sometimes. The whole thing has taken me by surprise as well. I never felt like anyone would want me.’

Her chest ached as she typed the final sentence; overwhelmed by emotion. It was true that the compliments and flirty glances she often received were met with an automatic but fleeting sense of glee. It felt novel, after so long of feeling like she didn’t deserve it. It sometimes still felt that way; back in the hotel room, after the cheers of the crowd had faded. She had brought the subject up with her company counsellor who had laughed it off, explaining that everyone suffered with imposter syndrome from time to time; she wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. On the matter of flirting, she had kept that one to herself. It felt too personal and she was sure it would come across as vain. Occasionally it was unwarranted; the older mens’ eyes moving down her legs when she took to the stage in a short skirt back in Seoul, or the way she jumped in alarm when someone once slipped their hand down the back of her jeans while she stood tightly packed in an elevator in Osaka. But other times she found her heart racing and stomach churning; not thinking of Jimin until she tucked herself in bed at night. A pretty, tall waitress brushing her hand as she handed over the bill in a Thai restaurant, or the hotel doorman who had helped her move her luggage earlier in the week and smiled kindly at her in the lobby. She knew Jimin, of all people, would understand. She had seen the way he played the audience, like he had a secret to share with them all. Early in their relationship it had made her crazy; the way he seemed to flirt with anyone he came into contact with, often without even realising. But now the tables had turned. He would understand; but she wasn’t sure he would accept it. 

She glanced a warily at the shadowy corner of the room where an oversized bouquet of red roses sat on the dresser. They had arrived earlier to the hotel room, along with a postcard sized letter from her manager. He had been unable to make the trip to Taiwan but was waiting for her in Tokyo; the contract was ready, whenever she was ready to sign. The flowers seemed like a bribe; the gesture leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She wondered if the other two girls had received any, or if the privilege was all hers. 

The sound of her ringtone, a chirpy, summer tune, alerted her to the fact that an hour had already passed and it was getting late. She quickly swiped the screen and raised it to her ear, not wanting to wake up the neighbours.

“Hello?”

There was a pause before Jimin spoke. “How are you?” 

“Good.” She squinted at her watch with a frown. “What time is it there?”

“2am.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” She asked, a little baffled. He hadn’t called her this late in a while.

“I only just got in. There was a company dinner.” He explained. “What are you up to?”

She hesitated. “Just thinking.”

He laughed, softly mocking her. “Just thinking?”

She shook her head, dismissing it. “Oh, it’s nothing…I was drying my hair.” She lied, fingering the ends of the bone-dry locks in an automatic response. “Da-eun dyed the tips purple for the photoshoot.”

“I liked the pink.” He groaned, a little sulkily.

“They thought purple would fit better with the concept photos.” She mumbled deflatedly. “It’s not really my choice.”

“You could change it when you come home.” He said hopefully. She heard the flirtatious grin in his voice and could picture his smile on the other end. “They can’t do anything about it once your contract has ended.” 

“Maybe.” 

She sounded distant and he noticed the change at once.

“Are you okay?” 

She closed her eyes tightly, temporarily blocking out the glare from the laptop screen. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”

“Did you take a look at the brochures I emailed you?”

“I haven’t had time. I’m sure whatever you pick will be fine.” She knew she sounded a little irritated but was unable to mask it. The weight of the day suddenly seemed to dawn on her and she wanted nothing more than to go to bed. The last thing she wanted to talk about was moving house. 

“I’d really like you to help.” He argued lightly. “There’s a three bedroom going for sale on the Han River. Yoongi says it’s a good deal.”

Ara sighed. “I’m sure he’s right.”

A pause. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I wish you’d stop asking.” She pleaded, feeling on the verge of tears. Jimin seemed to hear the tremor in her voice and thought for a long moment before he spoke, tentatively.

“Maybe you should ask the doctor to change your medication again.”

Ara clutched the phone tightly. “It’s fine.” She tried to smile, hoping it would show in her voice. “I’m feeling much better, just tired.”

“Is that a side effect?” 

He sounded concerned and she nodded to herself, though she knew full well she hadn’t taken the time to read the little leaflet properly. “Probably. Maybe I just need some sleep.”

“Okay.” He agreed, though she sensed his trepidation. “I’d better go then.”

He sounded disappointed and Ara felt guilty once more. “I’m sorry Jimin.” She apologised softly. “It really was nice that you called. It’s just these time zones…”

“I understand.” 

She wondered if he did. Her eyes felt damp beneath her heavy, false eyelashes, making them itch. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

***

She had forgotten her contact lenses and had to rummage through her Birkin to retrieve her reading glasses. They felt strange on her nose and she wondered how she had ever made it through high school wearing them. At least she had been given a moment’s peace to read through the contract. The office overlooked Ueno Station and the rush of traffic below would be too distracting had someone also been watching her. 

‘As a permanent member of the label you should not bring the company into disrepute…’

She read carefully, though the paperwork seemed much larger than the last one she had signed. Some of the phrases looked familiar, such as the declaration of her dedication to being a ‘brand ambassador’, but others were definitely new. Her gaze hovered over one line:

‘...should not jeopardize future success…not limited to personal relationships, controversial thought or opinion including strong ties to political associations, ideologies or groups.’

She expected no less, particularly after Mimi was caught on camera reading a Betty Friedan book. The first part was more complicated and she wondered if Jimin’s management had asked something similar of him. 

With a sigh, she continued down the page, skimming the text now but picking up on key words which seemed important, ‘Maintain a visible and transparent social media presence….Agree to the screening and management of said accounts with the view of protecting our artists and their wellbeing.’

By the time she reached the end, it did not seem to matter and there was a strange comfort in realising this. The past three years had been carefully planned, organised, operated; her future written for her from the moment she stepped foot on stage for the first time. The moments of quiet between shows, or during her increasingly short stays back in Seoul, only seemed to complicate things further. Her thoughts were a mess whenever she stopped to breathe for a moment, and maybe it was easier to shut them off altogether; to give over all control and decision-making to someone else than to try and deal with them all herself. 

The fountain pen was heavier than she expected as she picked it off the table. It had the company brand embossed on the side in gold-leaf which seemed to reflect the fading light outside as the sun set below the concrete structure of the art museum to the West. Slowly, she signed her name on the final page; the ink blotting a little as she moved aside the bound file and repeated the motion on the second copy. The second attempt was neater as she grew used to the feel of the pen in her hand. There was a knack to it; just like many of the things she had grown to learn in her adult life; underwear should be washed on the delicate cycle, t-shirts should be turned inside out before they are ironed, glasses should not be left in the sink too long, should they smash. She had an assistant to do those things now, and her clothes were mostly dry cleaned these days. 

She neatened the piles of paper and put the lid back on the pen, so the ink wouldn’t dry. The first contract had been signed in black Biro, which hadn’t come with such demands. Reaching down, she picked up her black handbag and carefully folded her personal copy, slipping it between her lipstick and glasses case before adding the pen. She had probably paid for it anyway; in her own way. The green light on her phone was blinking and she slid it from the pouch in the lining. The text had arrived while she was in the meeting, which is why she hadn’t heard her phone go off. Her thumb paused over the messenger button for a moment, before she tapped the screen lightly; Jimin’s name and picture coming into view in the little window above the text. 

‘One more week! :)’

***

Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook

& Our full masterlist of fics and original art can be found here

& Our masterlist of preferences/most likely to/quizzes and fun stuff is here

You can support us by buying admins a coffee here (if you wish). :)

[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan – Beijing Beijing

Translator’s Note: This article comes from PEOPLE Magazine 2020 2nd Issue.

In between “seems beautiful” and “very beautiful”, there can be one or many different views. For example, the phrase “famous after a battle” (TN: Xiao Zhan’s “Zhan” sounds like battle in Chinese), we could analyze the keywords in many ways.

Xiao Zhan, born 1991. Could you imagine how you and I would be when we were 28? Xiao Zhan is like this –

Fan View

“His looks are totally my type” “As warm and gentle as jade, a gentleman who is peerless” “A precious boy with the soul as crystalline as prismatic glass”

“Famous after a battle”, is the most effective “wartime story”. Using this analogy in the entertainment business, there are many who had been battling for quite a while. Xiao Zhan is like this as well…

Audience View

The summer of 2019, the antihero Wei Wuxian (portrayed by Xiao Zhan), came from “The Untamed” into the living rooms of countless viewers, and straight into their hearts;

Platform View

As the Beijing TV Spring Night Spokesperson, as a celebrity with more than 20 million fans on Weibo, as Tencent’s “Most Popular Artist of 2019” and “Drama Actor of the Year”, as iQiyi’s “Breakthrough Popularity Actor of the Year”…

When we change our point of view, will the world become more interesting?

With regards to his looks, Xiao Zhan said he is “ordinary”, and only scored himself a 6.

With regards to his age, Xiao Zhan said his mother’s method of urging him to start a family has went from straight-to-the-point to indirect and tactful.

With regards to “famous after one battle”, is it really as straightforward as standing out from the big data and being ahead of everyone else? Xiao Zhan, who is 1.83m, reduced his weight from 70kg to 58kg for his outstanding portrayal of Wei Wuxian – is this really the result of a day’s work? Does anyone remember the hardworking youth, with a caption “Designer from Chongqing”, from the 2015 idol search variety show “X-Fire”? Does anyone remember that in 2016, after debuting as the lead singer for X9, Xiao Zhan admitted that there were instances of zero income, zero entertainment and zero social activities?

No matter whether it was “very beautiful” or it “seemed beautiful”, would it be free of worries?

Xiao Zhan looked down and smiled, slightly bashful, his expression serene, “Sweet worries.”

He actually loves Beijing so much

On 28 Feb 2019, I (a reporter) entered a dressing room in Beijing TV. The narrow and long dressing room had been split in the middle into two narrower sections. Near the corner, after the staff has dispersed, I finally set my eyes on Xiao Zhan, who sat obediently on a chair while styling his hair.

The stylist stood on the right of Xiao Zhan; to the left of Xiao Zhan was a giant suitcase. After we tried to push the suitcase aside, I managed to stand in the gap. In such a tight space, I could only put the phone in front of Xiao Zhan, on top of the opened makeup case, for voice recording. After some more effort from everyone, there was finally space for the phone.

He was covered in a white hairdresser cape, his long legs enveloped by a pair of black pants – his thick black hair was being kept in order, his handsome side profile, relaxed and natural attitude, polite words, and after some close observation, no piercings on his ears.

How did this unguarded Xiao Zhan look like?

There was no need for exquisite words, just simple and pure wonderfulness.

If it remained unimaginable, it would not be too complex to imagine the warm smiles of the good looking youths on the streets of Beijing. All of these people could have been born in Beijing or traveled to Beijing from their hometowns.

“Chongqinger” Xiao Zhan said, “Beijing, in fact, besides my hometown Chongqing, is my longest lived in city. If we use 2020 to calculate, it would have been 5 years. Beijing, is a striving city, and like any other youths, Beijing means dreams and endeavors to us – this is a city of ambition. Hence, as Beijing TV’s Spring Night spokesperson, I feel that this special meaning, I’m very happy and very excited.”

Indeed, during the release conference in the afternoon, when being asked about how he felt spending his “Year of the Rat” Spring Night with Beijing TV, and expressing that by singing, Xiao Zhan, who was nicknamed “The Little Chinese Music Archive”, thought about it seriously and suddenly sang, “I’m beautiful, beautiful, beautiful……”

Haha, this quick wit and humor was almost as cute as “The Chipmunks”.

Spring Night is a big event, and it required absolute secrecy. We secretly asked Xiao Zhan about Beijing TV Spring Night from his personal point of view. Xiao Zhan continued to be witty, “I feel it’ll be exciting, at least I’ll be performing with a… senior that I really like.” When asked who it would be, Xiao Zhan smiled, “Let’s keep it a mystery, and we welcome everyone to watch Beijing TV Spring Night!”

This “Chongqinger”, who still could not confirm if he could return to his hometown for Chinese New Year, would sometimes show his inner thoughts – “If I could go back I definitely would”, but yet his words lingered on Beijing TV Spring Night.

Xiao Zhan, he actually loves Beijing so much.

He actually likes Zhou Xun so much

Who are the actors that Xiao Zhan admires the most? If he were to pick two, it would be Zhou Xun and Tony Leung.

Xiao Zhan said, “I really like Zhou Xun, her views, her experiences, are all mesmerizing to me. She has many performances that give me the urge to rush into the screen to rescue her. Her performances are very vivacious, it feels like you’re beside her experiencing her performances with her, my attention is all on her, she just has great charisma.”

Xiao Zhan emphasized that he liked Zhou Xun all along, and as we stood and studied his side profile, his face, we suddenly remembered a classic scene from “Palace of Desire”, where the young Princess Taiping removed Xue Shao’s mask.

That year, Zhou Xun was 26, Winston Chao was 40, but it did not prevent her from portraying a young girl’s infatuation. This drama was almost 20 years old, and the female audiences at that time would exclaim that Winston Chao was “as warm and gentle as jade, a gentleman who is peerless”. If this seemed familiar, this phrase was also used by many of Xiao Zhan’s fans to describe him.

Time, in the long river of ages, cycles endlessly Memories, in our past and present lives, crosses endlessly

– Lyrics from “Yu Nian”

This is the lyrics from Xiao Zhan’s song “Yu Nian”, which is the ending song for “Joy of Life”. Who knew that time cycles? Who knew that memories crosses paths?

As of now, Xiao Zhan is similar in age to Zhou Xun’s age then. If we could time travel and Xiao Zhan were to act as Xue Shao, could we guess the ending?

And since we are at this point, we could add another statement – “Traffic” / “Celebrity” / “Actor” – what difference do they make in the face of time? If there are no answers, why not listen to Xiao Zhan’s “Yu Nian”.

Time will tell, it is just that we are too impatient – regardless of our need for speed, we still ought to seek the truth.

He actually admires Vincent van Gogh so much

Xiao Zhan, like many of us, went through the tough period of studying overnight for university entry examinations. He became a student of Chongqing Business and Technology University, majoring in Design. However, this did not prevent Xiao Zhan from becoming a “Top 10 Inter-school Singer”, he self mockingly called himself a “literary enthusiast”, but in fact became one of the stars in many girls’ eyes – someone who was good looking, tall, stylish and could sing and take photographs. Immediately after he graduated, he became a designer, but he would still be brought up by his ex-teachers, one of whom recommended him to participate in “X-Fire”.

When reviewing “X-Fire”, you would realize that Xiao Zhan had a round face, an obedient expression and mild temperament – in fact, you would think that he did not pose much of a threat. But as one by one, the youths started getting eliminated, as their teams were getting regrouped, as they were getting more and more difficult tasks, it seemed as though Xiao Zhan was being sculpted on the spot – his face became more chiselled, he started slimming down, his eyes started having the steady gaze of ambition… Talent search variety shows are, in fact, cruel and all the participants were getting re-sculpted and remodeled – whatever that was removed was not the meant to be in the final product.

So what did Xiao Zhan keep in his heart? These were all the passwords to his past – drawing, design and art. Like anyone who learnt design, they all had an artist that they favored, and they were all different. Xiao Zhan’s answer – Vincent van Gogh.

Xiao Zhan said, “I was asked previously – if I could have a conversation with a past personality, who would it be? I would just choose Vincent van Gogh, because I want to listen to what he had experienced then, how he lived then, such that he was able to create such a beautiful world and paintings. Such as “Starry Night” or “Self Portrait”, I feel that he was able to step away from himself, into very amazing angles, and then create them.”

Those who learned design would usually be able to draw quite well, and usually beyond the levels of self taught hobbyists. Hence, these would also become part of his self cultivation.

Xiao Zhan confirmed this, “Yes, I think starting from aesthetic views to detailed observation, I feel that there were definitely influences.”

On whether Xiao Zhan still went to art exhibitions, the question seemed like a luxury to him – his eyes widened, he straightened himself, and he started smiling widely, “There is very little time now for art exhibitions, I would see them via friends who went and posted in their social media, or those art-related media accounts.”

There could be no burden I could sway my head I could stay my steps I could surrender to you

– Lyrics from “Two Tigers”

This is the promotion song from movie “Two Tigers” sung by Xiao Zhan. There was once in a variety show that he was requested to use his facial muscles to move a cookie on the side of his face into his mouth, while singing. Before the game started, Xiao Zhan pointed at the camera and laughed, “I really do have an idol’s image burden! I really do have an idol’s image burden!” However, after the game started, you see no sign of his “burden”, just 100% into moving his facial muscles, working hard to get to the cookie.

What is an idol’s image burden? Is there art in an idol’s image burden? There are no answers, but we can look for it in Xiao Zhan’s “Two Tigers”.

Art often gave the answers to philosophy. For example, an idol’s image burden could be thrown away, hence it is definitely not art; Art follows the heartbeat, follows life, just like the Vincent van Gogh, a man whose life bloomed and withered like the summer flowers, in the hearts of people like Xiao Zhan.

This phrase “A designer who can’t sing isn’t a good actor” seemed nonsensical, but if you think about it, it seemed to suit Xiao Zhan a lot.

He actually yearns the audiences’ recognition so much

It seemed like Xiao Zhan did gain fame after a single battle, but it was not just one battle – there were more raging battles before then.

The dancing spirit, wearing bright red and green clothes, in “Monster Hunt 2” – the camera panned past him without a HD shot; The minor role of a special agent in “The Rookies” – with some onscreen time less than a minute… And there were more, such as “Star Academy”, “Oh! My Emperor”, “Battle Through the Heaven”, “Shuttle Love Millennium”… Never heard of them? Eh, well this proved a problem – how could there be so many people who became “famous after a battle”?

What next? Xiao Zhan happily shared, “If everything goes well, there would be three roles coming to meet everyone, two period, one modern.”

Alright, the modern role would be Doctor Gu of “Oath of Love”. In fact, there were already naughty fans yelling that they were going to register for Doctor Gu’s hospital. Two period roles from “Douluo Continent” and “The Wolf”. Which do Xiao Zhan like the most? Xiao Zhan was unable to answer, “I feel like I like them all. Three different roles, three different pace!”

So, for the audiences who are already familiar with the two roles from “Joy of Life” and “The Untamed”, which are the ones that are closest to Xiao Zhan himself?

Xiao Zhan shook his head, “They weren’t quite similar to me.”

With regards to his roles, his works, let us get to some quick Q&A.

Q: After experiencing the life of the role, would that some what affect yourself? A: I feel that there are some influences to my usual personality.

Q: Would it make you mature faster? A: I feel that it makes my life richer, it means that I have experienced multiple different lives.

Q: What is your long term goal as an actor? A: If we are talking about long term goal, it is definitely being able to act in a drama that I love, and then gain audiences’ recognition for that. I feel that this is my ultimate term goal.

Q: Which role do you like? How do you live with your roles? A: I feel that there isn’t the most loved, I’m just someone who enjoys the moment. For example, when I’m in the current role, I will invest myself entirely into that role, and then I will cherish him and love him. But when I have to go to my next battle, I will put him down and let him go. And then, I will invest all of my passion for the next one.

He actually likes to smile so much

Observing Xiao Zhan up close and personal – his head narrow, his face small and firm, the folded long legs were especially straight and long. Xiao Zhan, is really thin.

When asked if he was at his thinnest, Xiao Zhan smiled, “No, I was the lightest during ‘The Untamed’, it was shot with ‘Joy of Life’, that was the period. I feel like I’ve regained more than what I’ve lost.”

Wei Wuxian in “The Untamed” liked to smile, all the time, everywhere; Yan Bingyun in “Joy of Life” was cold, all the time, as cold as ice. These two roles shot at the same time, just the emotions were already poles apart – the effort in switching in between them definitely exhausted a lot of brain cells.

When asked if he remembered his longest working day ever since his debut, Xiao Zhan looked down and smiled, then exclaimed at the same time with me, “A few days!”

Whether he could mentally sustain the current pace was not the main point – whether he could physically sustain was hotly debated. On this, Xiao Zhan replied especially fast, “I could adjust to it, really! I personally preferred a busier schedule, the feeling of being busy, makes me feel more fulfilling, and more sense of security.”

“Sense of security” – Xiao Zhan used this phrase, how did he understand it?

For example, Xiao Zhan said that there were instances of him in bad temper, and then he was asked if he would flip tables. Xiao Zhan was slightly taken aback, and answered with a smile, “I can see that you’ve never done design, a designer is a contractor working for his clients, if the clients have opinions, you need to communicate properly and slowly convince them…”

Everyone has a different understanding and adaptation when it comes to “bad temper”, a lot of it came from experience and self control of emotions – similarly, our understanding and adaptation of “sense of security” would be different as well, because everyone’s sense of responsibility and experiences would be different. For a youth to openly bring up “sense of security” and fight for that, we could only choose to give him our blessings. Because, in the blur of the mind, we could almost see ourselves in him.

Before I could give him my well wishes, Xiao Zhan gave the readers and audiences an especially down-to-earth and warm blessing, “I feel that more well wishes are repeated too often. I will simply wish everyone a smooth path ahead, and then peace and safety would be nice!”

Finally, we would emphasize one point – Xiao Zhan really likes to smile!

Moreover, Xiao Zhan’s smiles are varied – there is gentle, healing, mischievous, surprising, confident, hearty, shy, embarrassed… and every one of these smiles could be extended into a language of its own.

There is this saying about a child who likes to smile…

His luck will never be lacking.

[coconutheadfriend]

Fall of the sky

Todoroki Shoto x Reader

Genre: Romance I guess?

Warnings: Angst, Implied smut, fluff? (There will be smut eventually) 

Word count: 2500+

Summary:

Ah Arkridge city of laughter and full of rich, cocky assholes. Oh, and me, my name is (Y/N) and this is my story about the fall of the sky. It’s 2034 and the government declares the ground below us is inhabitable, broken, and destroyed. So people build a city, a sanctuary for the human race to keep on living. Although the one thing they chose to do wasn’t to send us to space no, it was to build a city. No normal city though, it flew. Like a plane, but looked way more magical than the human mind could ever imagine. Towering buildings and cute little homes waiting to be inhabited. Although there was a dark side to this solution, poor people were rarely seen on this island, but why may you ask? That will play a big part in my story and how I made the sky fall. I am (y/n) (l/n) and this is my story on how I made the sky fall.

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I wake up to the sound of my alarm going off. I hit it so it turns off, the robotic voice speaks through the speaking. “Miss (y/n), it's time to get up and ready for the ball” you shot your head up and your hair goes all over your face. You huff pushing it out of your face. “Wait, that's today?” you question cocking your head to the side. “August 29th 3093” You smile“You have an appointment with the hairdressers and makeup artist today. Should I message them and say you're still coming?” the robotic voice questions. You shove the blankets off you and get up to start dancing and jumping around. “Uhm miss your heart rate has gone up substantially in the past few seconds is their reason to call an ambulance?” she asks and you stop your movements and laugh. “Oh sorry Nebula, I'm fine and yes I will still be at both of those appointments.” You straighten yourself out, you still have a stupid smile on your face but who can blame you? You were going to see Bakugou today at the ball. The love of your life was going to be there and you couldn't be anymore happier.

You walk into your bathroom and see how messed up your hair is spread out all over the place. Your eyes widen and you grab your brush quickly taking the knots out of your hair and brushing it down. You walk out of the bathroom and quickly get dressed into a tank top and some sweats. You hear the door downstairs open and close. You walk out of the room to see who has just come in. Looking over the railing to see Bakugou. “Babe!” You shout and run down the stairs almost falling as you do so. You wrap your arms around him pulling away only to kiss him. “Morning babe,” He says in his gruff voice. “You're coming tonight right?” you ask pulling away as you do so. “Wouldn't miss it for the world Babe” You untangle from him and make your way to the kitchen. “Did you eat before you came here, Suki?” You say to him. “Yeah I did but I want something else to eat” He smirks and traps you between the counters. He kisses you harshly and you pull away. “Babe, I already told you it's too early for us to be doing that stuff” You shrug and try to weave between his arms. “But baby~ We’ve been dating for so long, three months I think?” He thinks about it.

You steal a surprise kiss from him. “Yeah, I guess we've been dating for a while but I just want to make sure I lose it too,” You say turning around and opening your fridge grabbing some milk. He sighs “If I wasn’t the one I would’ve left long ago” He grumbles while you fetch some cereal pouring it in the bowl. You grab the milk and sit down eating your cereal. “Look, I know you're not happy about this situation, but I'm not ready and you said you’d respect that,” you say mouth half full of cereal. He makes his way towards you and takes a seat next to you. “Plus I already offered to please you but you weren’t interested so I don’t know what you want.” You shrug and eat more cereal. He comes close to your ear and whispers, “I want you bent overlooking all prett-” You start laughing “Me, bent over, for you?” You point your spoon at yourself. “God Bakugou, you are one horny bastard.” You finish your cereal and drink the milk. You put the bowl back down. Milk dripping from your mouth, he brings up his thumb to your mouth wiping it. You stare at him with wide eyes and feel your face get hot. Blush attacking your face and you get up rushing over to the sink turning the water on rinsing the bowl out. “Bakugou when I can trust you fully and know you want to be with me for real and not just because of my body, then we can do whatever you want. But I’m just not ready.” You sigh “So I have an appointment in about an hour so if you're still here while I’m at my appointment. Could you lock the door before you leave thanks, babe.” You say as you rush out of the house and into your car. You start it and back out of the driveway. Making your way to the hairdressers.

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You arrive at the hairdressers and get out of your car. Grabbing your keys from your pocket you lock the doors. You walk up to the familiar doors of the hair business. You open the doors and walk up to the receptionist's desk and your hairdresser comes up. “Oh hey (y/n) just take a seat over there and I'll be with you in a second.” She smiles softly and you smile back. Walking over to the seat she pointed to. You saw her disappear into the back but to return with some new shampoo and towels. She walks over to your seat and props the items she was holding up on a shelf and grabs a cover to put around you. “So are you excited for the ball tonight? I heard it's the biggest one the city has thrown.” She smiles brightly “Of course! When have you ever seen me not at a ball” You smile back and she begins to do your hair giving it a trim before asking what you want to be done. “I was kind of thinking like a bun and then some braids around it? Will I have enough hair” You laugh and she nods fiddling with your hair. “Girl, you have hair for days I don't know what you mean” She giggles softly at your comment. She starts doing your hair wetting it slightly. “So I heard that some prince is going to be there. He's supposedly looking for a wife” You frown at the comment. “Yeah I heard about that, but you know already I have Bakugou. Plus it's not like I could catch a prince's attention” You sigh realizing Bakugou isn’t gonna let you around any other man this evening. “Yeah I know but you're so beautiful if anybody could do it, it would be you (y/n).” You laugh at her comment and shake your head slightly. “Me, no, how about you? You’re so pretty any guy would be lucky to have you.” You smile at her.

“Ok! How does that look?” She asked as she finished my hair. “Great! Also, could you maybe do my makeup here I don’t want to drive across town” You pout and bring out your phone canceling the appointment? “Yeah, sure what kind of look are you going for?” You think back to your dress and it's a deep blue with white stars all along with it. “Hm, so it should match my dress so how about a navy blue look with little specks of white glitter” You suggest and she nods going into the back room. She comes back with some makeup and brushes. She starts doing your makeup and before long it's done. You open your eyes and smile. “Wow, it looks amazing, thank you” You get up from the chair and grab your purse. You hold your wrist out and she scans it. “Have a great day don’t forget to book an appointment a week before you plan on coming.” She smiles and bows as you walk out of the shop. You check the time on your phone and realize you only have two hours to get ready.

You quickly drive home and when you arrive you check the time. “Damn I only have an hour and a half to get ready.” You sigh rushing into the house and unlocking it signaling that Bakugou had left, probably to get ready as well. You quickly run up the stairs to see the beautiful gown is displayed on the mannequin you had in the room.

It was a deep ocean blue that faded into a white on the bottom. It had started displayed all across it and on the top part it curved down right above your belly button. Covering just the right amount of breast but enough to show off how nice they looked. Bakugou wouldn’t be happy as the back was very flashy as well. You quickly put on the big dress and it took a while. You fix your hair and right after you're done you hear someone honk outside your house. Must be the limo you thought. You grab the black heels you were going to wear for the night and rush down the stairs. You leave your house and see the limo. You lock the doors and rush to the limo jumping inside making sure to grab all of your dress and not to get it caught in the door of the car. You realized you forgot your mask at home but remembered it was around your neck. You slipped it one when putting on the dress.

After about half an hour of driving, you ended up arriving at a big castle-like mansion. “Thanks!” You say to the driver and hop out of the car putting your mask on. You make your way to the entrance and flashes start going off. People were taking pictures of you so you started to pose. After a few minutes, you walk into the big palace and see everyone either talking or dancing. Some people looked up at you while some ignored you. You saw someone with green flowy hair offer a hand out to you. You take it and smile walking down the stairs with him. Bakugou wouldn’t be too mad right? It's just one dance. He places his hand in yours and one on your waist. You both started dancing to the instrumental music playing. “I haven’t seen you around here before, are you now?” You had curiosity getting the better of you. “Wouldn’t you like to know Doll.” He smirks at you and spins you around. “Yes I guess you could say that I’m new” He spins you around again and stops you bringing you close to his face. But before he can kiss you someone pulls you away from him bringing you to his chest. The scent was familiar, it was Bakugou. “Move along extra she's mine” You hear him say to the green-haired boy. “Calm down man we were just dancing” The green boy raised his hands like he was innocent. “Yeah what dancing do you mean because I think you mean you trying to get your lips to dance across hers” He groans and pulls you away with him to the center of the ballroom. He grabs your waist and starts dancing. You look into his crimson red eyes and smile blushing softly. “I’m sorry baby he offered to dance I di-” He cuts you off with a kiss and you pull back blushing even harder. “Uhm can we go get some fresh air.” He nods wrapping his arm around your waist. You make your way to the garden where you could see the edge of the city. You both walk around the garden and soon make it to the edge where you look down and see clouds. “Bakugou, I have something to tell you.” You fiddle with your fingers and look up at him. “I don’t think this is going to work out-” He groans and starts laughing. “Fuck- I’m so glad now I can get rid of you” He has an evil grin on his face. “Wh-what do you mean Bakugou?” Your eyes widen as you step away from the edge but he grabs you. “God, do you know how hard it is for me to be around you all the time. ‘Bakubaby’ really come up with something less annoying please” He rolls his eyes and tears prick your eyes. “I just wanted to hit it with the dip” He starts laughing and you struggle to get out of his grip. He brings your body closer to the edge of the city. “God, I've been wanting to do this for so long, a quick and easy way out and if people come looking for you I can just say you fell off the edge. Even better I can say it right after I throw you off. I’ll start crying and hyperventilating screaming. Saying ‘oh shit she fell’” He started imitating what he’ll do once you're plummeting to your death. “Please- no- don't please” You plead with him. He lightens his grip on you but just as you thought you got through to him he throws you off and you scream.

And there you were, falling. Watching what it felt like slow-mo. He had a devilish smile on his face and you had tears running down your face. You felt the wind flow through your hair and your dress move all around. It was kind of peaceful if you think about it. The sun was setting letting a pink tint fall onto them. But in reality, this was the scariest moment in your life “Fuck” You say right before you fall into some trees and blackout.

(Next chapter sneak peek)

You open your eyes slightly surrounded by trees. You see a blurry figure hovering over you. Hair tinted white and red “You lucky son of a bitch” He says in shock as you get picked up. You moan and he looks down at you while he's carrying you. “I know it hurts but I’ll make it go away” and with that, you close your eyes.

An: This is my first time writing in like two years so if it's not up to your standards I'm sorry. But if you wanna be tagged in the next part then comment! Also if you have some suggestions on how I can improve please tell me I'm always open to criticism

Tag list:

@warriorsofficial

[renee-writer]

Win a Date Chapter 78 Wedding Day

She takes deep breathes as she sits at the breakfast table. Geillis had insisted she eat. “There will be nae passing out in the Great Room.” Unable or willing to argue with her, she sits and eats yogurt and granola between her deep breathes.

She is at her and Jamie's house. He waits her at Lallybroch. Waking up without him by her side had been strange. It is tradition and if there is one thing Jamie is, it is traditional. She will spend most of their rest of their nights together. This thought puts a sweet smile on her face. Geillis watching smiles also. Never imagined this would be the result when she out her friend’s name in the contest.

The day has been planned out with military efficiency by Jenny. After breakfast is hair and makeup. Done at home. All that will be done at Lallybroch will be getting into the gown. It is secured in the Laird’s room that will be a bride’s room then their wedding night location before taking off on their honeymoon.

“Up or down?” The hair dresser asks her.

“Up.”

“But Claire, Jamie likes it down.” Jenny comments. Claire smiles at her.

“I know. Give him something to do in the bridal chamber.”

“Oh you are a witty one Claire. Jamie will have his hands full. Good.” They all laugh as the hairdresser tames her hair up into a tight bun. To it is added a band covered in forget-me- it’s.

“Ah! Perfect.” Geillis says when she is done.

“Aye. Quite lovely.” Jenny agrees.

The makeup artist is next. “We will just accent your natural beauty. You have such wonderful flawless skin.” She smiles at the sweet woman. Being the fiancée if James Fraser has it's advantages.

Finally all the prep is done and they are the way to Lallybroch. Jenny notices her deep breathes.

“Dinna fash lass. I am sure Jamie is just as nervous.”

“Truly?”

“Oh aye. I am sure he is driving Murtagh and Ian crazy. The good news is neither of you have to wait much longer.”

“Thank God.”

They slip in and up to the bride's room. Jenny unlocks it and they enter. The dress is hung on the closet door. It looks even more amazing in the light coming from the old window.

“Oh wow! This is really happening.”

“If you wish out, speak now.” Geillis teases knowing all she wants is to meet Jamie in front of the Fraser’s fireplace.

“Yah right! Let’s get this gown on me.” Her best mate and future sister grin as they help her into it. The tiny buttons in the back are done up. They then turn her around for the full affect.

“Oh my God! Look at me! A bride.”

“Almost perfect.” Jenny declares. “You have something new in the wedding dress, blue in the forget-me- nots. You just need something borrowed and old.” She holds out her hand. “They were my mam's and hers before that. Scottish pearls, I wore them at my wedding. It is now time my sister does.”

“Oh Jenny. They are lovely. So lovely.” Jenny places them on her and she is ready.

“Okay. I will go get Murtagh. See you by the fireplace.” She hugs her tight and slips out. Geillis looks at her with tears in her eyes.

“Now don’t you start crying.”

“My best mate is a bride!”

“Thanks to you. I would have never entered that contest myself. Thank you Geillis! Thank you so much!”

“You are so welcome. To see you this happy is more then thanks enough. Let’s get this knot tied.”

Murtagh enters and catches his breath. “Claire, you look incredible. Jamie may faint.”

“Oh no. No one is fainting. Why I made her eat. Has Jamie eaten?” Geillis asks him.

“Aye he has.”

“Grand.” She hugs Claire. “A few more steps. You can do this.”

“Yes.”

Murtagh turns to her after she leaves. “I’ve never seen Jamie this happy. I knelt by his mam when he was just hours old and swear to see him safe. I believe by seeing you to him, I am fulfilling that vow.”

“Oh Murtagh!”

“Dinna weep yet lass. Come, let me escort you to your future.”

It was how she pictured it, as she places her arm in his and steps out. The stairs glow with the candles, reflecting off the lace in her dress. She holds it up as they step down. Slowly as the wedding March, preformed by bagpipes, raises around them. She feels a lump form in her throat and prays she can speak through it.

They exit the stairs and turn into The Great Room. The candles continue making an aisle through the room. An aisle that leads to the fire place and Jamie.

Once she meets his eyes, all else fades away. Lord is he magnificent! In his kilt and high boots, the linen shirt and sporran, ceremonial sword, the gleaming gold brooch holding up the tarden that is draped over his shoulder. He is every inch the Highland Viking warrior and hers!

It takes a lifetime to walk the short distance to him, or so it seems. He doesn’t pass out but does catch his breath and seem to hold it until Murtagh places her hand in his.

“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” The priest asks.

“I myself do.” Claire proudly says as she maintains eye contact with her man.

“Excellent.” He speaks on the meaning and sanctity of marriage as they cling tight to each other.

Along with the traditional marriage vows, they want something else. Something that makes it theirs. So after the 'I do's' they pledge this,

“As freely, Jamie, as God has given me life,

I join my life with yours.

Wherever you go, I will go;

Whatever you face, I will face.

For good or ill, in happiness or sadness,

Come riches or poverty,

I take you as my husband and will give myself to no other.”

Jamie vows the same.

The beautiful and unique gold rings are placed on each other’s fingers.

“It is my great pleasure to present, Mr. and Mrs. Fraser. You may kiss.” They do through mingled tears.

Jenny posted a picture if their wedding rings and Claire's engagement ring, tied up in a knot of twine. The caption reads, “Officially off the market. James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp become the Fraser’s today.”

They will decide what wedding picture to post later. It is enough for now. She then joins her family for the reception.

[ashtcnirwin]

god typing your url is always so hard for me i don't know why but i always want to type ashtocn ANYWAY how about this: gimme a director's cut for jalex in paris, change my mind fic, or makeup artist ashton fic. yes those are the three you wrote for me. i'm giving you the option to only break down one of them if you don't wanna have to dig into all three. but like you can hit all three if you wanna! go crazy. whatever floats your boat. love youuu xoxo bella

you and me both, i keep spelling it as aschtnirwin whenever i have to type it out🤡

hmm giving me choices... i like that, thank u miss bella! i haven’t really talked much about any of these fics (that i can remember), and i can’t quite make up (heh heh) my mind (heh heh) so i’ll just do all three and here’s to hoping i can keep it at least a little bit short

⭐ we’re doing director’s cut of fics guys⭐

jalex in paris aka we go together (or we don’t go down at all)

writing this fic was really hard in one way because i’d never written a fic for a fandom that i barely knew anything about, and i remember that i spent that whole morning/early afternoon looking at atl interviews and miscellaneous vids to get a tiny teeny grasp of their vibes. and it’s like...when you’re part of a fandom, you keep picking up all these little pieces of information about whatever/whoever it is you’re a fan of, things that you won’t find on a wiki page or anything, but to try and pick up all those little details in one day just wasn’t gonna happen obviously. 

i think you, bella, commented on smth in the fic, a little detail or smth that didn’t add up with the real people, and i never went back to fix it (cos it just...didn’t matter to the story at all really) but i remember thinking to myself like “ah fuck...okay making little mistakes like that is really irritating cos if this was 5sos (or 1d for that matter) i’d never ever make a mistake like that”, yk?

anyway, i love paris a lot, i’ve been there a few times, and i’d been meaning to write you some jalex for a while when...either sam or meghna said smth about jalex in paris, and i thought...yeah...i can do that...mhm. so i did. and you know me, i’m usually all about the angst and the emotional torture and the heartbreak and all that stuff, BUT in addition to this fic being written for you and i know you’re all about the easy love, writing this as angsty or have jalex have a bigass argument over their relationship or anything like that just didn’t feel right AT ALL. 

in my mind at least, the combination of how jalex act irl, both as individuals and as a duo, and the general vibe i was going for in the fic, the easy love-path was the only thing that made sense. it was just like...they spent a day wandering around paris, being a little chaotic, and ended with them sitting at a restaurant in the early evening, waiting for their dinner, and then jack just being like “are we on a date?”, totally casual, and then that was it, sort of. no conflict, no long conversation, no colliding expectations, etc etc, and it was lovely to write.

(but ofc, in true me-fashion, i had to throw SOMETHING in there, hence the nods towards a fwb-arrangement)

(in my defense, if it wasn’t for that, there never would’ve been a ‘is this a date?’-question tho so)

and i really, really enjoyed writing this piece, far more than i thought i would, and getting to write about parisian vibes (and cute boys complaining about awfully hot parisian summer weather) was just...i felt like a soft boiled egg by the time i finished and posted it😌

change my mind-fic aka we dance along

would you believe that this was the first fic i ever wrote that was inspired by a song? actually, so far it’s the only song-inspired fic i’ve written, i haven’t written another one since. why haven’t i? it was so much fun...huh 

well i’m a wh*re for 1d, i was deep into the fandom back in the heyday, and this song was my sad jam back when tmh came out, so writing a fic for it eight years later and for a different fandom was...it felt a little odd, ngl, especially since i wrote it as non-au? which would indicate that 1d exists in this universe? and that 5sos went on tour with them? i don’t think i put a direct timestamp on the fic, but they were in stockholm when the events of the fic went down and it was established that they were in sheffield a week prior, so that would have been the myt tour, so...yeah, they would have toured with 1d a few years prior, and now they’re hanging out, drunk, in an hotel room, speaking in 1d lyrics? that’s a vibe

just like the jalex in paris-fic, there’s easy love here, too. i think i said something in the club a little while back (it might have been in response to...nik asking for general writing tips?) about how sometimes, people just...do things, they don’t think it through, they don’t stress out about it or anything; they want something and they go for it, and it just isn’t deeper than that. not everything has to be super fucking deep, right?

and i remember thinking as i was getting started on writing malum’s whole conversation about what went down in sheffield, that if any 5sos ship was gonna hook up and then a week later be like “ykw? i like you, i liked kissing you, i liked hooking up with you, so let’s just run with it and see where it takes us” with just a brief, minor freakout and not getting themselves into a whole pining, angsty situation over it, it would be malum. cos the basic premise of this fic COULD have been turned into an angsty slow burn, no doubt, but it made sense to me to drop the argument all together and just go for a soft and easy conversation

makeup artist ashton au aka something old, something new

ah awkward, nervous luke...loml. this one was SO FUCKING HARD to write for the sole reason that idk shit about makeup, like i’m literally barely able to paint my own face without ending up looking like heath ledger in the dark knight, u feel? had it only been hairdresser!ashton. i know way more about hair. well anyway doesn’t matter.

it’s been so long since i wrote that fic now (or, it feels like it’s been super long, in all actuality it’s only been like half a year) and i wrote it so quickly that i can’t remember a lot about my thought process as i wrote it, tbh?

the only thing that stands out to me is the line in the fic that goes, “He chooses to not say anything about the fact that it’s the judgement he’s passing on himself that’s the main problem.” because while i’m obviously not gonna sit here and speak for everyone else, i often find that when i make a big change in my life, be it with my looks or my job or my studies or in personal relationships or whatever else, i tend to be more focused on judging myself for whatever it is i just did than i am on whatever judgement other people may be passing on me.

i wrote luke as being super nervous and unsure about asking ashton to put makeup on him, but his nerves definitely came more from being scared of taking that step than from worrying about other people judging him. i didn’t elaborate on it in the fic as far as i can remember, but i imagine that the reason he was so nervous was that he was scared of taking another leap away from traditional masculinity and what it might lead to. i feel like...a part of him was hoping that he wouldn’t like his face with makeup on, simply because then he could take it all off and carry on with his life, but well, that didn’t happen. he’s a pretty boi, even prettier with makeup.

also, in hindsight, i realise that this is one of those fics that could have been left pairing-less and it wouldn’t really have changed the story much at all. the focus of the fic was very much on luke, not as much on the interactions between him and ashton, and i think the main reason why i did include some flirting (or, clumsy attempts at flirting at least (luke just going ‘hey do u have snapchat? pls? i wanna talk to u more)) was that it’s become more or less second nature to me when writing fic to include at least a nod or two towards a romantic relationship?

yeah i did not manage to keep any of these particularly short? surprise surprise but thank u bella for giving me the chance to talk abt these fics that i have a tendency to forget abt, ily🧡

[dyns33]

Dressed to please

"LV ask Finnick to shoot a video of him doing the exact same thing as Cody. But the big difference is that our boy Finnick is being all sassy and a godamm diva with the crew, except with his girl. Even to make her blush a little because he always choose the most revealing and fucking tight outfits that LV offer him. And always asking his girl if this outfit looks good on him." 

 Here we go @its-mikha​ ! I hope it will be like what you had in mind =) !

           The Louis Vuitton crew knew what was going to happen, they had worked with Finnick King in the past, and even if the model was perfect on a catwalk and a real source of inspiration for all their makeup artists, hairdressers, stylists and photographers, he remained an unbearable diva who always gave his opinion, criticized everything and was never entirely satisfied. Because of his behaviour, they had hesitated before offering him this filmed interview, where he would have to try on several outfits and choose the one he would like to wear to attend the Fashion Week parades. But then they heard that since he had a girlfriend, his assistant (Y/N), he had calmed down a bit, so they called him, because they couldn't miss the opportunity to have Finnick King, wearing LV in the capital for several days. The person who told them he was less annoying would certainly be fired. He still was, just in a different way. Certainly, he was less stubborn and insulting, but he kept flirting with (Y/N), with smiles, winks, naughty innuendo and especially by choosing the most revealing outfits possible, very form-fitting, very transparent, or very short.

           "Mr. King, these leather shorts are a model for women..." muttered one of the members of the crew.

           "Bullshit ! It's leather shorts, which makes my ass magnificent ! Look (Y/N) ! Look at my ass in that !"

           "Difficult to see something else." said his companion without really looking at him, too busy to take care of their planning on her laptop.

           "Hmm. No, it's not the right outfit !" Finnick said, visibly disappointed that he didn't get the reaction he wanted.

The model therefore tried on several other outfits, which all suited him superbly well, but either he was not at all convinced, or he turned to (Y/N), and if she did not seem dazzled, then he would quickly undress to try something else. The LV crew didn't really understand what was going on, because usually the King didn't care about other people's opinions, he did what he wanted, and his assistant didn't seem to force him to ask her for validate before choosing, so why was he acting like this ? At least they had lots of Finnick imagery with several different outfits that would appeal to his fans and make them a lot of publicity. They thought he had finally found what he was looking for when he put on a black and yellow jacket and spent several minutes admiring himself, paying compliments to the one who had created this garment. But when he turned to (Y/N) and saw that she didn't seem as enthusiastic as he was, busy sending messages about whether their hotel room was ready and a car had been rented, he lost his smile, took off the jacket and looked at her with a sulky, slightly hurt look. Realizing that he was no longer moving, (Y/N) finally looked up at him, smiling when she saw that he was only wearing pants.

           "I don't think it's hot enough outside for you to go bare-chested."

           "You don't like any outfit."

           "You can take whatever you want, they all suit you. Everything suits you."

           "It's true. But I want an outfit you like."

(Y/N) then understood what was happening, seeing his eyes a little wet. Finnick knew that all the clothes fit him, that he would be beautiful no matter what, but it was not what he wanted for this evening, he wanted to please her, he wanted her to be proud to be seen with him, that she could make everyone jealous by showing that he was hers, knowing that she had dressed him, that he would wear the clothes that she had chosen for him and they would be the most beautiful couple of the place. He wanted to please her. The attention was lovely and slowly (Y/N) stood up to caress his cheek and kiss him tenderly, before looking at all the clothes to choose the ones she wanted him to wear. As soon as she handed him her choice, he ran into the next room to change and he came back as quickly to look in the mirror. Like all the other outfits he had tried, this one suited him perfectly, perhaps less sexy, showing less skin, but very chic, very sophisticated, and flattering his dream figure by being quite tight. It was good, but not necessarily better than all the others. However, Finnick seemed delighted.

           "It's perfect !" he declared before turning to (Y/N) to kiss her passionately. "Thank you. It will be my outfit ! Now I'm going to get dressed and we are gone."

He went out without looking at the LV crew, whom he seemed to have totally forgotten, as well as the camera which had filmed everything. They were as embarrassed as they were surprised, because Finnick never said that someone else's choice was perfect. He never let anyone choose for him. It was a rare, very intimate moment they had just filmed without the model noticing. It was not the case with (Y/N) who smiled until he closed the door, before turning to them with a cooler and more serious expression.

           "You will not use this last sequence."

           "I... But we need the moment when he chooses his outfit..." stammered one of them.

           "Fortunately, in addition to being the best model in the world, Finnick is an excellent actor. I am sure that he will be able to play the moment when he found his outfit by himself, like the fashion diva he is. You will erase these images and you will not tell anyone about them. If I see a single word in the press about Finnick King's sensitivity, vulnerability and romance side, I will know it's coming from you and I will send our lawyers. Am I clear ?"

           "Crystal clear, ma'am."

The crew then realized that (Y/N) was really the perfect companion for the model, in addition to being a very good assistant. She understood him, respected him, supported him, but she was also able to calm and reframe this spoil little boy when it was necessary. Maybe she couldn't always say no, but he held back because he wanted her to be proud of him. Always having his stupid satisfied smile, Finnick came back, impatient to leave, taking (Y/N)'s hand and leaving the room without saying goodbye to the crew, without even looking at them. He only greeted the jacket he had liked very much, saying he would miss it. In the elevator, (Y/N) asked him where he wanted to go to notify their driver.

           "To the hotel."

           "Really ? Don't you want to shop a bit ?"

           "Nah. We will be better at the hotel to do what you want to do since we arrived." he sneered.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, imagining what he had in mind. When they got to their room, Finnick took a long shower, because trying on clothes for three hours was a kind of sport, before joining her in bed, to admire her sleeping. She had struggled during the whole session to stay awake, since they got off the plane actually, but he knew she couldn't stand jet lag as much as he did and that she was exhausted. They would have time for shopping and walking around the city later. Finnick stayed close to her, admiring her sleepy face, impatient for everyone to see them together, these idiots thinking that she was lucky to be with him, whereas it was he who had managed to seduce the woman the most incredible in the world. He also thought about a plan to try to steal the jacket. With (Y/N) and the jacket, everything would be perfect.

[leychee]

but like...what would the ikerev suitors' careers be in modern day?

sirius could own a flower shop of course or maybe be a chef? DADDY DAYCARE???? hgskgdjsksl

lmao imagine him getting lancelot and harr to help out at the daycare cuz they owe him a favor 😂

Sirius: "Why is this kid running around with a diaper on his head?"

Harr: "I didn't know where to put it."

Sirius: "What do you have in your hand?"

Kid: "A knife!"

Sirius: "NOOO!"

Lancelot: "Oh my god, why does he have a knife?"

lance and harr, uhm you guys are supposed to be helping watch the kids

since it's canon that jonah's a good singer i'm gonna go with my au and say he can be a musical actor

or or or i kinda wanna see him as a grade school teacher. that would be so cute omg

lancelot is the new ceo to the family conglomerate having taken his father's place. they own the company jonah's signed onto. they also own the "Madison Square Garden" of cradle

luka could be a chef and gift the world with his food 💕 he'd open up his own little restaurant!

professional violinist? but then he's mentioned before that he didn't like taking classes he didn't want to take in jonah's route? so maybe no even though he's good at playing

seth could be a hairdresser or makeup artist or celebrity stylist? Celeb Stylist by Day, Secret Agent by Night

ray and loki are gonna be coworkers at a cat cafe and maybe loki's working on becoming a vet

ray's gonna be a cat dad and have 162783940 cats living with him

what can harr have a career in? i don't really remember anything from loki's route

what if he was a high school dropout, but one day saves loki on the street. harr becomes a father! and then when he notices loki's love for cats, he saves up enough money to open a cat cafe because he's such a DAD and just wants to make his son happy

what else could kyle be other than a doctor? pharmacist? healthcare admin? WAIT imagine having kyle as your therapist

"I don't know about getting advice from a guy who gets hungover everyday..."

"Hey wanna go play some laser tag? Whoever loses has to drink a whole case of beer."

fenrir.as.a.police.officer.

MC: *walks out of a clothing store*

Fenrir: Hello Miss, that's a pretty big bag there. Does it happen to hold your phone number in it as well?"

HGSJFHKSLKAGTPDBJA

fenrir's gonna be my ducking life coach ok? ok 👌

or he can be a pro athlete or a hot young gym coach

can he be my professional trainer? i'd exercise

oliver's gonna invent something that saves the whole world and wins a nobel prize 👍 or whatever would be the equivalent in cradle

oliver as a tea master. Master of the Art of Tea(se)

i'm gonna have edgar own a candy store and zero's one of his part time employees trying to pay for school

poor thing has to stop his boss from eating all the inventory and randomly going off to feed ducks and pigeons, but he puts up with it cuz edgar took him in. i'm sorry zero 😅

oooohhhhhhh blanc can be a historian!

oh my god what if he's an author and uses a pen name? and he uses quotes from his romance novels to flirt with people lol

let him have secret rooms (more than one!) in his house!!! you'd have to solve riddles and the answer(s) would be a title of one of his books, then you'd remove that book from a shelf which would open said secret room omfggggg wow

did i forget anyone? does anyone have any different careers for them in mind?

fenrir as my personal trainer and kyle as my therapist? hmmm not a bad combination 😏

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Rain

Part of of a request by @min-newt from the prompt “You probably found someone better. Someone worth your time. But I still have to be selfish and say I can’t let you go..”

Jimin x reader

Word count: 2,548

A/n: This one was starting to run away with me so I decided to post it in parts. Thanks for the request angel I hope you like the beginning because it's gonna be a slightly slow burn lol.

She inhaled deeply, the smell of puppies and dog treats filled the air as she sat her purse on the information desk and pinned her name tag to the lapel of her work shirt. A deep purple affair with the words Heart and Seoul Rescue printed in gold thread just above where she’d pinned her name tag.

“Ya! Y/n!” Jacob sprinted around the corner, having just finished his rounds feeding the cats when he’d noticed her arrival and come out to greet her. He pulled her into a desperate side hug, nearly sobbing in relief at her presence.

“Hey,hey easy there Jacob.” She giggled, pushing him off of her playfully and adjusting her shirt. “What’s going on? What’s got you so freaked? Well...more freaked out than normal anyway.”

He huffed, collapsing his upper body across the information desk and groaning angstily. “Yah! The director called me this morning. Said something about some famous celebrity group coming in to shoot a promo commercial for the animal sanctuary. I spent all morning cleaning but I haven’t had a chance to take care of Yanna.”

Y/n groaned,shoving he and causing him to stumble backwards a step. “What were you thinking?” She yelled, spinning away from him and beginning to make her way towards the dog kennels. “Doesn’t matter what group from whatever company is coming to make themselves look good! Yanna’s due any day and needs all the care she can get. I can’t believe you forgot about her!”

Jacob yelled his apologies but she just waved him off as she grabbed a leash from the dozens of others lining the wall beside the door to the kennels and made her way inside. The sounds of the dogs barking greeted her and she smiled as she made her way down the row, stopping about half way down and crouching before one of the holding cages.A small tan head peaked from beneath a bundle of blankets, tilting to stare up at her with blurry sleep filled eyes.

“Good morning Yanna.” The young woman cooed as she reached up to unlock the door and held out her hands to the weary animal. The mother yorkshire terrier climbed from beneath the blankets, stretching her body as best she could around her large belly before making her way over to greet y/n with several small licks to her hand.

“Aish, I can’t believe that mean old Jacob forgot about you.”She pouted as she snapped the leash to Yanna’s collar. The small dog yapped happily, her tail wagging as she attempted to bounce her way around the woman and out of the kennel.

Y/n stood, a giggle bubbling up as she closed the door to the kennel and began walking towards the door that led outside. “Alright alright sweetheart, I know you’re probably full to bursting. Let’s get you outside so you can take care of your business.”

***

“Y/n!!” Jacob’s voice cracked as he called her name from the front of the building. She’d just finished feeding the dog’s and was wrapping up cleaning the last of the kennels when Jacob’s panicked voice caught her attention.

Leaning her broom against the wall she stepped out of the kennel and made her way to where Jacob stood flustered and out of breath. “Jesus Jacob, you look like somebody stole your lunch money.”

He clutched at his chest, leaning against the information desk as he struggled to catch his breath. “Y/n...I...the….the celebrities!!!” He shook his head, too flustered tobe able to make out any more words than what he’d given her.

Muttering under her breath she made her way to the water cooler, grabbing a paper cone and filling it with water before handing it over. Jacob snatched it, giving her the briefest of smiles in thanks and promptly downing the cool liquid.

He groaned, wiping his lips and closing his eyes as his breathing slowed enough for him to be able to form coherent sentences. “I found out who the celebrities that were visiting are.” He let out a huff before grinning down at her. “It’s…”

But he was interrupted when the objects of the conversation walked through the double sliding glass doors. It wasn’t exactly what y/n had been expecting. A massive group of people poured into the lobby, some holding makeup cases, many sporting surgical masks and profession or business casual clothes.

But what drew her attention was the 7 stunning men that the crowd of people seemed to part for, like some metaphorical sea of people. She inhaled sharply, grabbing Jacob’s arms and tugging on it as her excitement flooded through her in waves.

“Jacob is that???”

“BTS...yes y/n...the only group you’ve been able to talk about since you moved here.” Jacob smirked down at the awestruck look on her face. Her eyes took in the scene before her, drinking in every detail that she could because she knew deep down that this was a day she never wanted to forget.

There was Namjoon, smiling as he and what she could only assume was a group of managers spoke with the director of the animal shelter. Lord above help her but his dimples were even more amazing in person than she could have ever hoped. Jhope walked over, draping his arm casually over the leader’s shoulder as he listened in on the conversation, giving an occasional laugh and a smile that literally lit the whole room with it’s glory.

She squealed at the sight, hiding behind Jacob  as her eyes continued to wander the large room, seeking out the other members.

Yoongi and Taehyung she found sitting on a bench side by side, both staring down at their phones and talking back and forth to each other quietly. The scene made her heart race, watching as Yoongi brushed the hair out of his eyes and looked up to find her staring. He gave her a soft smile and she could feel her face heat up instantly, her eyes widening as she watched him nudge Taehyung before nodding in her direction.

Tae glanced up at her, breaking into a bright smile as well at her obviously flustered state.

“Oh GOD Jacob they’re looking at me…” She whispered, ducking back behind him and hiding her burning cheeks in the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Sillyehabnida?” A quiet voice spoke behind her, forcing her to pull away from the safety of Jacob’s uniform.

She turned, pasting a pleasant smile on her face that froze almost instantly when her view was filled with the person who’d been speaking. Jeon Jungkook, the golden maknae himself stood before her, a sheepish smile on his lips as he looked down at his feet.

“Ah...I...look for...bathroom?” He spoke in broken english, his cheeks tinged a slight pink as he shifted from one foot to the other.

She realized that he must have heard her and Jacob speaking english to each other and assumed she couldn’t speak korean. Her smile quickly turned genuine as she answered him in his native tongue.

“You’re looking for the bathroom?”

His eyes brightened up and he smiled warmly, nodding in affirmation. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just that there isn’t anyone else around besides the two of you and I was hoping one of you could show me the way?”

Jacob saw his opportunity,shoving his coworker to the side and offering Jungkook a grin of his own. “Sure I’ll show you the way.”

Shooting y/n a grin Jacob took Jungkook by the arm, the younger man chuckling as the two walked away in the direction of the bathrooms.

“That man has no shame.” She giggled to herself as she leaned against the information desk and took in the activity around her.

There wa an entire horde of camera men, each lugging mounds of equipment to be set up in the different areas that they’d been planning to shoot in. She watched as miles of cables were unwound and attached to recording devices, sound systems were set up, and makeup artists fluttered around, attending to their charges right along with the hairdressers.

“Miss?” A young woman tapped her elbow, smiling brightly up at her and holding out one of the makeup bags.

Y/n looked down at her and smiled brightly. “Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?” She asked kindly.

The woman blushed, holding up the makeup bag and motioning over one of the hairdressers. “We were wondering. Since you’re going to be on camera if you’d like a makeover?”

Her eyes sparkled and her grin shone as she nodded. “I almost never wear makeup to work.” She giggled. “Animals couldn’t care less what I look like. But the idea of being made over by such adorable professionals?”

The two women grinned, clasping each of her hands. “We never get to work with women, especially someone as pretty as you!”

Y/n couldn’t help the blush of heat that graced her cheeks. “Aiyooo, I’m nowhere near as pretty as all that.” She giggled as they tugged her around the information desk. Setting their equipment down they quickly went to work, primping and priming her in such a way that it was all over before she could even realise what was going on.

“Oh yea.”

“Perfection at its finest.”

The two women giggled, grinning down at their handy work with pride.Y/n ran a fingertip over her now glossed lips, a smile tugging at the corners as she took the mirror handed to her. Inhaling deeply she turned it to face her and her jaw instantly dropped.

“Wooowww.”

She jolted at the voice that had spoken in unison with her own. Moving the mirror to the side her jaw snapped closed instantly. Because standing right in front of her, jaw dropped and eyes wide was…

“Jimin ssi! There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The young makeup artist grabbed his arm, shaking him and snapping him out of his stupor.

“Ya look at your hair! Did you just wake up from a nap? You know we’re supposed to be shooting today. The PDs are going to give you an ear full if you show up like that!” The hair stylist took his other arm, turning him to drag him away to the others. His eyes never left y/n face though, his neck straining as he tried desperately to continue looking at her.

“Holy...that was Park Jimin!” She squealed, turning back to stare down at her reflection in the mirror.

The makeup noona had done pure magic on her face, a delicate eyeliner rimming her eyes in coal that made the color of her eyes pop. Coupled with eyeshadow and mascara her eyes seemed huge, like the sultry eyes of an innocent doe. Her lips were lush, expertly lined and something about the color made them seem incredibly kissable. She giggled at her own reflection placing the mirror down before her.

A throat cleared above her, startling her out of her self revelry. She looked up and her cheeks instantly flushed.

“Hello beautiful.” Kim Seokjin stood before her, leaning across the wide counter of the info desk. Her eyes were so focused on the swell of his lips that she had a hard time focusing on anything he was saying.

She blinked rapidly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “I’m sorry what was that?” She asked. And as he chuckled at her flustered state, the heat in her face spread.

“Aiyo, you’re adorable.” He chuckled, giving her a wink. She giggled, the wink having knocked her out of the mental block his handsome face had given her.

“Truly, to be called adorable by World Wide Handsome himself? It’s an honor!” She grinned, feigning heartache as she clutched her chest.

“Ya she knows me? Be still my heart.” Jin clutched his chest in return, causing them both to burst into a new round of giggles between them.

“Of course! I was ARMY before I even moved to Seoul. Going on...almost 2 years now?” She ducked her head, trying to hide her face. “I’ll be honest it’s a real honor to meet you all.”

Namjoon had happened to make his way over at this point and flashed her a dimple filled smile. “Oh so you’re ARMY are you?”

She squeaked at his arrival, nodding vigorously and almost bouncing out of her seat in her excitement. “I am. And very proud of it if I must say.”

Namjoon chuckled,a hint of a blush rising to his cheeks. “Well thank you very much for your continued support. We’re just as proud to have such a sweet fan.”

“Y/n!” The head of the shelter made her way over, a huge grin on her face as she handed her employee a stack of paper. ‘I see you’re already acquainted with a few of our guests.”

Y/n nodded as she riffled through the paperwork in an attempt to hide her persistently warm cheeks. “I have. I’m so glad the shelter is getting a chance to shine finally. And I’m sure the animals are going to get a kick out of having the spotlight on them.”

“They’re not going to be the only ones.” Her boss clapped her hands, her smile turning mischievous.

“Oh?” This caught y/n’s attention. She slowly lowered the paperwork to the desk, her undivided attention now on the almost malevolent grin shining her way.

“Well now who do you think is going to be in charge of showing our handsome young guests around the place?” the keen lady nodded towards Namjoon who looked as if he really wasn’t comfortable with the conversation. “We can’t very well have Jacob do it. He’s far too eager to be on camera. No no I’ve spoken with their managers and it’s been decided.”

“You want me to do it don’t you?” y/n groaned, folding her arms before her and making as if to hide her face in their comfort.

“Ya!” the shelter manager grabbed her shoulders, preventing her from completing the action. “Don’t go ruining your makeup! You’re on in 20!”

With that the manager departed as Namjoon and y/n watched, both shaking their heads in unison. Namjoon flashed her a reassuring grin, a matching pair of dimples flashing at her and imprinting on the backs of her eyeballs.

“Don’t worry Miss. It’ll be pretty simple. Our camera guys are experts at making people feel comfortable around them. All you have to do is show us around. Introduce us to some of the animals. Just be yourself and relax. We’re just normal guys who love animals. It’ll be great I promise.”

She giggled, shaking her head in disbelief. “There’s nothing normal about any of you. You’re all so talented and sweet and hot. I don’t think I’m going to survive this.”

Her words caused Namjoon to blush profusely and he ducked his head, stuttering about having to get his audio pack put on. As he rushed away she grinned to herself. This may be the most exciting things she’s ever done in her life, but boy was she going to milk every second of it.

[schizophelia]

March 25th, 2018: Journal

Haven’t done a journal in a while so I figured now would be the perfect time for it.

Okay so explaining last night: So last night a friend started talking to me on Facebook. That was fine, whatever. And then shit went down and I don’t know if I can explain it properly without it getting confusing. But I shall try. So anyway, he started talking to me. He’s really nice and that wasn’t the issue. Now I’ve know this friend for about 2-3 years so deep down I should have known to stay away that night but I didn’t because I didn’t want to be rude. He started talking to me and he brought up the topic of religion. At first I was like, okay, this is fine. But then he said that I should tell the voices “I command you to leave in the name of Jesus Christ.” I told him something like that won’t work and that I’ve tried telling the voices to leave me alone. Now him saying that to me really bothered me because I had vision (”hallucination” is what my friends called it) of Jesus when I was in the psychiatric ward back in September-November. If you’ve followed my blog long enough you would know that I was told, during this hallucination, that I was to lead the people…. that I was the messiah. And so this whole topic of religion brought these “delusions” (is what my friends call them) up again and I couldn’t make them leave. I was hearing voices like crazy and then he brought up the topic of demons and said the picture of shadow demons I draw looked like the demons that came out of him in hell and holy shit that just sent me for a downward spiral. At that point my mind was racing kilometers a minute and I couldn’t calm myself down and last night I didn’t sleep worth a damn and ugh.

Needless to say, I’m so fucking exhausted. I’ve been apparently hallucinating things all day. Voices and whispers, video game sounds, the monster, Nietzsche the dog (the golden retriever that I never ever talked about), etc. Like it’s been a wild ride today. Plus I’ve been having all the same delusions from last night on top of my usual ones. I can’t even begin to explain how frustrated and tired of this shit I am. But like, I feel like my team won’t help me. On the topic of Nietzsche, he is a new animal that I see as of like a week and a half ago maybe? I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve been seeing him but anyway, he’s a golden retriever and he’s so fluffy. I took a picture of him but my friend said there was nothing in the frame. I don’t really have the artistic ability to draw him either. But that’s okay. I hope most of you know what a golden retriever looks like. I’ve also been seeing a black rat. I named her Kateri. So now I have 4 rats, 3 rats, and 2 dogs that I see on occasion. I know they’re not real because my friends tell me they’re just hallucinations. But they look real and they move like real animals so sometimes I get confused. These animals are the highlights of my day. They make me happy because everything else makes me miserable.

Yesterday and today we celebrated both of my brothers’ Birthdays. One of them turned 20 on the 17th of March and other turns 23 on the 29th of March. One of my good friends had her Birthday today but I didn’t go because I wanted to spend time with my brothers. We had chocolate cake and we had a special dinner tonight which was good because normally we don’t eat the greatest because everyone is always busy doing something. But they will be home again Friday for the weekend. 

Yesterday I got my hair trimmed for the first time in about a year. It’s not that much shorter. Our usual hairdresser said she was surprised to see how long my hair was and that soon it’ll be down to my waist. Yesterday and today my mom and I deep cleaned my room. I mean we went through all my books, nightstands, all my containers, some of my makeup, etc. I’m so glad everything is neat and tidy but now I don’t know where everything is because everything was in its spot but now it’s not. I don’t want to ruin our hard work. I’m surprised how well I did. I hesitate before throwing things out because I think I’ll use them again when in reality I don’t. My mom made me sort through all my tea too. Which was fine. Some of it went to my aunt across the road. 

Tuesday I see my social worker at the psych clinic at 10am and honestly I have so much to talk about. I haven’t really been doing the greatest and she was supposed to talk to my doctor about everything and I don’t know if she did. I hope she did because I’m supposed to meet with my doctor on Wednesday at 11:30am. Which I think is a mistake because the doctors at the hospital where I see my doctor normally does 3rd floor rounds on Wednesdays… unless he wants to talk to the other doctors about me. I hope that’s not the case; I don’t like it when doctors talk about me behind my back. Honestly, I hope my doctor helps me this time. Because honestly, I can’t keep doing this. I’ve been living with it like my doctor suggested. I’ve been trying to ignore it… like my doctor suggested. It’s not getting any better. It’s not getting any easier. I’m too scared to go outside by myself for goodness sake! How am I going to handle school like this? I feel like I keep slipping even further and I can’t make it stop. It feels like something is always happening to me. 

I’ve been on the 9mg of Invega for like 2-3 months. If it was going to do something it would have by now. My friends think I should try Clozapine. My doctor has mentioned it before… but only in a negative light. He said it’s a nasty drug because of its side effects and stuff. But I have friends that are on it and they say it’s really helped them with their psychosis… so I don’t know. Every medication has side effects. I just want my life back. I do have a confession to make though…. I haven’t been taking my medication properly for the past 2 days. I’ve been taking it really late in the day. Like I’m talking between 1:30pm-4:30pm when it should be taken around 8:30am-10am (whenever I wake up). The reason why I’ve been taking it too late is because the voices have been telling me not to swallow any medication because it’s part of the government’s evil plot to get my special powers. But, my friends always talk me into it so I have been taking it. Tomorrow I’m going to take it properly. I’m going to try to be good. I hope I can take them and ignore the screaming and yelling caused by the voices.

I’ve been both agitated and tired all day. I’ve been banging my head against the wall to try to make the voices shut up… all to no avail. I don’t know why I’ve been getting agitated and restless. Probably because I didn’t sleep well last night after having decent night’s rests the previous nights before the last. I hope I can sleep tonight. I took my Temazepam and I’m ready to go to dreamland.

Anyway, I’m signing off for the night. I’m exhausted. I hope everyone has a good day tomorrow.

Meds: Invega 9mg Fetzima 80mg Temazepam 15-30mg (taking 30mg)

[thenwcollective]

Budgeting Video Production

There's no doubt that the Web has changed the means services communicate with their consumers. Today, the majority of business are making use of a mix of electronic media - which includes websites that feature video clip, YouTube, training video clips, Facebook as well as even more - with "conventional media" - that includes direct-mail advertising, print advertisements, brochures, radio as well as television and other media. If you're new to producing products for digital media - especially video, you may be questioning just how to effectively budget for video production. Well, "Production 101" is designed to assist you via the procedure. So continue reading!

  Since video manufacturing can be complicated sometimes, the best way to approach this subject is to offer you an example to collaborate with. What appears to help most people is contrasting video production to restoring a house. Here's why: if you ask just how much a home renovation will set you back, the solution is, "it depends." Well, it coincides with video clip production.

  For the residence restoration, the "it depends" goes back to how many square feet you have, what kind of products you desire - granite, marble or ceramic tile, for instance, the amount of various subcontractors will certainly be included - painters, ceramic tile individuals, floor refinishers, electricians, - well, the listing goes on and on. As you can see, there really is nothing else answer for residence remodelling rates than, "it depends."

  With video production, that "it depends" reaction associates with the length of time the finished video clip will certainly be, what it will certainly be used for - a TELEVISION commercial, training video clip, promotional video, uploaded to YouTube, and so on. Prices likewise depends on the amount of various people will be involved - whether or not there will certainly be on-camera talent, make-up musicians, hair stylists, established contractors, multiple video cameras, special effects, plus what kinds of cameras and also tools you'll be making use of, whether or not it will be a workshop or place shoot - this listing continues as well. So as you can see, there actually is no other response for video manufacturing rates than, "it depends."

Video Production Company Portland

In both cases, the key is top quality. You don't desire substandard craftsmanship when renovating a house, do you? Certainly not! You do not desire an inexperienced plumbing professional or electrical contractor working on the framework of your house, do you? Naturally not!

  With video clip production, top quality is of critical relevance also. You might simply stand out a camera on a tripod and also hit the record switch. But keep in mind, the video clip is supposed to represent your company, as well as a camera on a tripod would be a quite bad representation of your brand.

  While "top quality" has various significances, when it pertains to video production it easy to specify: you want a professional, engaging video that people will certainly want to watch, as well as is a video clip that represents your organization in a positive means. The trick is "professional" - people today are used to seeing TV commercials that cost upwards of $200,000; the reality is that they're not mosting likely to view your video clip if all you need to reveal them is a video clip shot from a cam perched on a tripod with an individual speaking.

  One of the tricks to producing an expert high quality video clip is having a standard understanding the production procedure. If you have actually ever been to a business production shoot, you've seen lots of people working with the set. They're all there for a factor: you might see a director, manufacturer, make-up artist, lighting supervisor, video camera operator, audio workers, grasps, well - the checklist goes on and on.

  There are 3 stages to creating a video: pre-production - where you choose the concept as well as all the content; production - where you in fact bring together every one of the components and also people and also shoot the video clip; and post-production, where you edit and also enhance the video clip right into a finished item.

  Equally as there are 3 phases to generating a video clip, there are 3 secrets to figuring out just how much a video will wind up costing. They are: time, devices and skill. Time - might indicate how long the video manufacturing will certainly be, or for how long it will certainly take to really shoot and also edit the video. Tools consist of elements like what kind of stage you'll require; how many and what kind of cams will be made use of, whether you desire a crane shot or a moving dolly fired; what type of modifying system will be required for details unique results - and so on. Skill connects to all individuals involved in the production. This includes the supervisor, an on-camera talent or voiceover, stars, set building contractors, cameraman, hair stylists and also makeup musicians - this listing can repeatedly as well! And also as you've probably guessed now - the more time, device and skill you take into a video, the more it will certainly cost.

  When it comes to producing a video clip, the first rule of thumb is: if you're not an expert in video clip production - hire one. You'll end up saving a lot of money throughout production, due to the fact that knowledgeable production employees understand how to handle prices. Remember our residence restoration analogy? You would certainly work with a general contractor to manage the people and also situate and also buy all the products, right? Well, it's the same with video manufacturing.

  An excellent production firm has all the assets you'll need for almost any kind of manufacturing, so it's a good use your cash to hire one. They're the "basic service provider" for your video production. Certainly, you need to employ the appropriate one - one that knows its way around company videos, industrial manufacturings, training video clips - as a matter of fact, they must have thorough experience in whatever sort of video that you're planning to generate.

  The manufacturing business will certainly establish that to utilize as a director or cameraperson on your shoot based on your budget. They can likewise advise methods to shoot an idea that will decrease your prices. The fact is they have the understanding and also expertise to do it - as well as do it right. The last thing you desire is to locate an enthusiast or inexperienced business generating your video clip. Remember, this video is going to be a depiction of your firm. Do you really want a beginner getting on the work training on your project!

  Every little thing starts with a script and a concept. It's not merely an issue of taking copy from a sales brochure and converting it to a video clip. It has to be conversational and keep audiences' attention, while streaming from one scene to the following. Your idea might be as basic as "I desire a video clip that reveals why we're better than the competitors." However despite something so standard, you require to produce a video clip that does a fantastic work of executing that idea. You need to develop a video that individuals will want to view.

  An additional crucial tool is a storyboard. This is where you really draw up the action that will certainly take place on cam; figuring out electronic camera angles, how collections will certainly look, where the skill will certainly stand, etc. This is one place you can change things around to aid reduced production expenses - prior to you begin shooting!

  When the script and also storyboard are authorized, you start the pre-production preparation. You'll figure out ability, where to fire it, whether you require to build a set, if a makeup musician or hairdresser is called for, the number of sustain individuals are required, what sort of music you'll utilize, whether you need unique graphics - et cetera. This is where the production firm comes into play - they've "been there, done that." So they'll assist you through this puzzle.

  Every one of those elements are called "manufacturing values" - and also each one plays a role in the total top quality of your production. Each one additionally plays a vital role in your total budget as well, so you have to determine which elements are critical to the video as well as which ones you can do without.

  OK, you have actually done your homework. You have actually gone through script rewrites, selected the ability, authorized the storyboards and also hired the ideal production business. You've balanced all the time, devices and also ability variables into a convenient budget.

  Now you're ready to fire!

  After you've done all the prep work, all the preparation and all the effort, the shoot worked out. But you're not done yet. Due to the fact that after you've made all the decisions; fired the video as well as sent your ability packing - it's time to edit.

  Editing is where the magic takes place. Editing is where you bring all of your manufacturing elements together. Below's where you include visual effects, fine-tune the color, include graphics, sweeten the audio, include songs as well as sound results, produce impressive scene transitions - this listing continues also. This is where you turn your raw video right into a compelling, special video that people will wish to enjoy.

  OK, you're virtually all set to finish from "Manufacturing 101." Simply something continues to be - just how to ideal answer the continuous question of, "how much will it cost? Regrettably, there's clear formula. There are some general guidelines, yet as with everything else you get, you obtain what you pay for. As well as the even more manufacturing worths you desire in your video, the extra it's mosting likely to cost you.

  Here are some rules of thumb to aid you when budgeting for quality video manufacturing: if you're preparing a training or corporate video clip, prices can vary from $1500 - $4500 per min. So if you were intending to create a 5-minute video clip - that video would cost you anywhere develop $7500 to $22,500. Sure, there is most likely a neighborhood videographer who can toss a video clip together for $2500, but nobody will intend to watch it. And it won't show positively on your firm. So do not waste your cash!

  Television commercials can set you back anywhere from $5,000 to $25,000 and up. And on nationwide commercials, the "and also up" can add to a number of hundred thousand dollars. However every little thing is loved one, and also usually a range of compromises can be made to create video clips that fulfill your budget parameters.