#rm tech

[gay-ellis-thats-all]

School Administrator: oh first day at a new school, huh? Ok, sweetie, can you spell your name for me please?

Oh, just a second… The school board is trying to save money by keeping these old computers running so they moved us over to Linux…

Alright, g’ahead, darlin’.

Student: R…M… Space… Dash…R…F…Space…Tilde. All lower case.

Administrator: Tilde? How do you spell that?

Student: oh that’s like the little squiggle.

Administrator: ohhhhhhhhh! I love learning all these interesting names! What’s your last name?

Student: Musk

Administrator: Ahhh, should’ve guessed! I think we’ve had a few of your siblings matriculate here over the years

Student: So… can I go to class now?

Administrator: Yup, just as soon as I log this registration document with Adrianna, our IT administrator…

Administrator: Oh… well, that’s odd… she said, “Her father named her, I take it? He would be the one to get even the most basic script-kiddy command wrong.”

Student: Yeah… I know… the closest he’s ever come to using Linux is when he watched one of the programmers at X, formerly Twitter, use the terminal.

Administrator: I’m sorry, dear… do you have a name you’d prefer we use?

Student: Oh, thanks… um… Miriam?

Administrator: that’s lovely, dear.

if I meet u at a party I will often hand you my phone and say something like "this is a list of names for girls. please read through and then add one." the list is special because you can only add to it in person; I won't add something that you tell me about over text. however, I think it's okay for me to share it here. without further ado, I present: girl names (names for girls)

[townpostin]

E-Waste Disposal Campaign Launched At RMS High School

Sambhav Sanstha Installs Recycle Bin, Educates On Environmental Impact A local NGO’s initiative aims to promote responsible e-waste management among students and staff at a Sonari school. JAMSHEDPUR – Sambhav Sanstha, a local non-profit organization, launched an e-waste disposal campaign at RMS High School Balichela in Sonari, installing a dedicated recycle bin and educating the school community…

[w1shfullthink1ng]

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅, 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 & 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

nika mühl x teammate!fem!reader

DESCRIPTION/ while at a game you’re getting particularly targeted by the opposing team and it eventually gets out of hand but..nika don’t play about her girl

WARNINGS/ light descriptions of shoving & hitting, hateful words, descriptions of a bloody nose, cursing, spitting

Lost count of words but this is kinda short, more of a blurb (I think don’t quote me on that🌝)

THERE’S 3 THINGS NIKA DONT PLAY ABOUT, HERSELF, HER MONEY OR HER GIRL…you’ve always been independent and Nika knows you’re tough and can handle yourself but one of y’all’s relationship dynamics is you saying “I can do it myself” and Nika saying “I know you can but let me” She’s always been protective over you especially in games.

It’s the only the first quarter but you can tell that the opposing team was on your ass. You didn’t blame them at first, you where a menace on the court if you’re left un-guarded you would be quick to shoot. But it got the point where you where LITERALLY getting pushed around with multiple technical fouls getting called on the other team. Sure this was a contact sport but you where getting insanely targeted. You pull yourself together & get your head back in the game.

One of the opposing players had the ball, she sprinted down the court. She was on a mission but so where you. You block her shot and steal the ball passing it down to Nika she shoots and gets a three. The opposing player looked livid “that was just a fucking lucky play” the girl murmured at you and Nika. Both of you quick to snap your head around, you where pissed but held your tongue, Nika did the talking for you “How about you say it with your chest next time” she just rolled her eyes and continued the game.

As the game went on it only got worse the shoves got more personal, little snarky comments, the bitchy looks. It didn’t bother you as much as it did now, the refs not calling fouls on the other team for obvious techs only added fuel to the fire. Nika was fighting back for you giving back the same energy to them. The ball was in your hands and suddenly you got dogged on a girl trying to snatch the ball from you causing y’all both to fall to the ground you didn’t give up tho you snatched it right the hell back, “fucking bitch” she said getting all in your face. The whistle blew and a technical foul got called ONLY on you, you rolled your eyes as your teammates helped you up “bullshit” you exclaimed at the ref, Nika holds you back patting your back “Come on bebo they’re assholes I know but don’t get another unnecessary foul just fight them with your plays alright, make ‘em shut there mouths”

As the next quarter rolls around you just try to keep your head up, Nika having your back being aggressive with them & standing up for you. The balls back in your possession you go to make a shot but the same girl that pushed you down goes to “block”, her elbow hitting your nose knocking you down to the ground. The whole room felt like it was spinning there was a ringing in your ears. Once you felt a little more grounded you look down seeing blood on your jersey, you brought your hand up to your throbbing nose feeling the blood gushing down. The whistle blows a foul getting called on the opposing team fina-fucking-lly

“The fuck is your deal?” you see Nika yelling at the girl that elbowed you. “It’s a contact sport, if she can’t handle a little contact then she should pick a different sport” she bites back, Your teammates help by getting you to the medic. Nika scoffs at the girl. “maybe you should watch your damn mouth, getting all petty because you’re shit at basketball so you have to get fouls just to make a single shot” the girl shoved Nika and that’s when she lost it. Nika shoved her right back causing her to hit the ground. “Foul on Mühl” the ref called.

“keep my girls name out your fucking mouth” she spits on the girl. With another foul called on her she got dragged court side, she had been benched for this quarter of the game. She sat next you, her gaze immediately softening “Hey pretty girl, you okay?” she moves a lose stand of hair that fell from your ponytail out of your face. you nod “i’m fine nika..but you shouldn’t have got into a physical altercation now you’re ben-“ she cut you off “I wasn’t just gonna stand there and let you get dogged on, you know i got your back always..besides it’s just this quarter of the game” she cups your face gently “I wasn’t gonna let some bitch touch what’s mine and get away with it”

After a lecture from the couches & the refs they let Nika & you back in the game for the last quarter. Y’all played like y’all’s life depended on it. You already know you guys secured that win. You celebrated once y’all won. Nika pulling you into a tight hug “That’s my girl!..hell yeah see bebo I told you just let your plays do the talking” she winks “says the one who yelled and spat on a girls face” you laugh, she kisses you to shut you up, she smiles against your lips “And i’d gladly do it again for you, besides I play better when i’m pissed”

A/N pissed off Nika is so hot so yk I had to write about it mhm mhm 🙂‍↕️this is my first blurb so please be kind! writing tips & suggestions are always appreciated & requests are open🫡

love you always thanks for reading,

wish signing off 🪽

[magic-shop-stories]

Can you make a Namjoon version of the pregnancy yoongi headcannon please?

💌 Reply:

Ahhh, thank you for this request! 🥹 Translating Yoongi’s blueprint into Namjoon’s universe was such a joy... and kinda healing to write tbh. If it’s too abstract, blame Joon... you know he’d turn parenthood into a TED Talk on existential botany. Hope this hits right for you, and that the brainrot is mutual (?) Let me know if you need tweaks! 💜 – c –

Kim Namjoon (RM) Pregnancy Headcanons x Reader

Warning: added a short mention of complication/ loss during pregnancy; brief mention of emotional vulnerability/complex feelings

🗿 How He Finds Out

you take the test alone first

needing quiet to process the enormity

the second line appears, you pace the bedroom

fingers brushing over his poetry books, his half-finished clay vase on the shelf...

Namjoon knocks softly after 15 minutes

"Love? You okay? You missed the Monstera’s watering time."

tries to jiggle the stuck door handle (his DIY fix last week)

fumbles with a paperclip

muttering

"Why do I always overtighten things…"

finally nudges the door open

finds you holding the test against your chest

glasses slide down his nose

he freezes

first words whispered like a haiku

"Are we... growing a universe?"

voice tender/ steady

=the way he reads letters at fan events

kneels carefully

avoiding the creaky floorboard

cradles your wrists

test between your joined hands

presses his lips to your temple

"However this goes... we’ll learn from it together."

🌿 Initial Reaction

Panic

spends the first night cross-referencing parenting books with peer-reviewed studies

highlighter in hand

scribbling notes in the margins of "The Hidden Life of Trees"

at 2 a.m. muttering about "epigenetic influences" and "sustainable bamboo diapers"

"Wait, prenatal sound exposure... should we play Debussy or traditional gugak?"

knocks over his bonsai while pacing

frets about "fetal stress responses"

creates a shared Google Drive titled "Project Sprout" before sunrise

Hidden Excitement

find him sketching a willow tree in his journal the next morning

branch roots morphing into tiny hands in the margins

you peek?

he slams it shut, cheeks pink

"Just... analyzing Fibonacci sequences in lotus pods."

later catches himself buying a single onesie

"For... a friend’s cousin!"

pattern: Van Gogh’s Starry Night with embroidered honeybees

you find the receipt tucked in his Walden pocket edition

"Fine. It’s… symbolic. Growth, y’know? Like haewon."

🌱 Worries

Fatherhood Fears

confesses at 2 a.m. over barley tea

steam curling like his restless thoughts

voice quiet

quoting Rilke: 

“Sometimes a man stands up during supper…”

trails off

fingers tracing the rim of his chipped moon-phase mug

“What if I… overwater them? Like my first bonsai.”

you find his journal open to a sketch of a tree split down the middle

one side labeled “Logic/Structure”

the other “Love/Chaos”

underlined in his blocky handwriting: 

“Can I be both roots and sunlight?”

finds him rereading Braiding Sweetgrass at dawn

circled passage:

“Parenting is an act of reciprocity with the future.”

Idol Life Stress

creates a Venn diagram titled “Cosmic Balance” during a flight

= Group Promotions | Prenatal Yoga | UNESCO Speech Drafts

mutters to his manager

“Can we route the Europe tour through Denmark?

Their parental leave policies could optimize…”

stares too long at ultrasound photos during Soundcheck

Jin catches him whispering to the grainy image

“Appa’s figuring it out. Like… how galaxies parent stars.”

forgets lyrics to Moonchild mid-concert

= first time ever

writes emails about “hologram tech for bedtime stories”

🌾 What He Does (Early Days)

Spoiling You

builds a custom "nest" in the sunniest corner of the house (and in his studio if you hang there)

hand-knotted hammock

handpicked field guides

"For our future botanist"

stocks the pantry with your cravings

hides your newfound aversions behind his kombucha SCOBY jars

leaves Post-its on the bathroom mirror:

"Remember: You’re already somebody’s ecosystem."

Overprepared

creates a bullet journal titled "Project Sprout: Phase One"

pages include: pressed gingko leaf tabs marking OB-GYN FAQs

also a graph comparing prenatal yoga studios

doodles of the baby

syncs a shared calendar called "Root Systems"

includes alerts like: ”3 PM: Hydrate (Y/N) + Water Ferns”*, ”7 PM: Debate Middle Names - Plato vs. Haneul?”, ”9:30 PM: Mandatory ‘The Martian’ Rewatch (Stress Relief)”

Hidden Romanticism

catches him playing "uhgood" on a tiny danso flute to your belly

"Early auditory exposure to heritage is… scientifically valid."

secretly starts a lullaby playlist titled "For When the Universe Feels Heavy" 

= curated mix of BTS instrumentals, rain sounds, and Maya Angelou recitations

forges a crib mobile from recycled mic parts and Hanji paper

each star inscribed with lines from his unpublished poems/lyrics:

"You, who will outlive all my words / Forgive me if I borrow the moon to explain your fingers."

🌌 Telling BTS

waits until the 12-week mark

citing "cosmic alignment"

hosts a "philosophy night" dinner

under the guise of discussing "existential metaphors in post-modern art"

sets the table with pressed flowers from his hikes and a centerpiece of his half-sculpted clay "symbol of life" (it’s a lopsided orb)

hides ultrasound printouts

inside Rilke poetry books

passes them out as "thought-provoking reading material"

Jungkook squints at the grainy image tucked between "Letters to a Young Poet"

"Hyung, is this… ? I see a baby... holding a galaxy?"

clears his throat

adjusting his glasses like a professor

"Actually, we’re… collaborating on a new project."

plays the heartbeat recording layered over his "SoundCloud experiment" 

mix of bamboo flute harmonies and his whispered sijo poem:

"Even the moon was once small / cupped in the sky’s dark palms..."

Reactions:

Jin

spills his makgeolli

laughing through half-tears

"Kim Namjoon, father?! Aigoo, the diapers’ll have PhDs!"

instantly Googles "baby-safe kimchi recipes"

"Important they respect fermentation science early."

Jungkook

silent for three full seconds

then leaps up, shaking Namjoon’s shoulders

"HYUNG. I’LL TEACH THEM HOW TO RIDE BIKES AND WRITE SONNETS!"

pauses, panicked

"Wait..which comes first?!"

Yoongi

nods slowly

eyes glinting

"Took you long enough."

slides a USB across the table

labeled "MixTape: Lullabies for Future Anarchists"

he already knew somehow, but kept silent

later, texts Namjoon

"You’ll suck less than you think."

Jimin

cradles your face

tearfully stern

"Uncle privileges include weekly dance lessons. Prenatal starts now."

demonstrates a "womb-friendly" body roll to Butter

Taehyung

holds the ultrasound to the lamplight

absolutely awed

"It’s abstract… like a Banksy!"

starts crooning Winter Bear to your belly

Hobi

immediately FaceTimes his mom for "emergency parenting tips" (as if it's his baby)

restructures your living room into a "positive vibes zone" with feng shui precision

jokes, lots of jokes

"First word has to be ���J-Hooooope!’ Right? Right?"

Namjoon

tries to quote Kierkegaard on "the leap of faith"

voice cracks

collapses into silent tears when Jin speaks:

"Our leader’s leading a new squad."

later whispers to your belly

"You’ll have seven hearts before you even breathe."

Bonus

Group Chat Name: "The Epigenetics Committee"

Jin changes it to "Tiny Supreme Leader Support Squad"

Yoongi’s Gift

onesie printed with "I Survived Daechwita and All I Got Was This Sleep Deprivation"

Namjoon’s Realization

finds Jungkook asleep on your couch

he's asking you questions about pregnancy

Najoon cries again

posts on Weverse: "Love is a circular equation."

🌳 Telling His Family

visits Ilsan with a hand-painted onesie reading “Future Curator of Nature”

stuffed into a tote bag alongside his childhood pressed-flower collection

his sister answers the door

eyes darting to your bump

“Oppa. You didn’t… Oh my god.”

crushes you both in a hug

then sprints inside yelling (irony)

“Eomma! Appa! Namjoon finally did something cool!”

His Mom

emerges with a wooden spoon

freezes mid-scold about his “city-dust aura”

clasps her hands over her mouth

“Aigoo, my little mundungi…”

ushers you to the ondol floor

already reheating miyeok-guk

“You’re glowing! But Joon-ah...” 

pokes his bicep

“Are you meditating enough? Stress wrinkles age the baby’s aura.”

His Dad

nods stoically over tea

adjusts his reading glasses to study the ultrasound

clears his throat

presses a worn copy of Walden into Namjoon’s hands

margins filled with his own fatherly notes from ’93/94:

“Page 72: Joon cried here. Ask why.”

His Sister

drags you to his childhood bedroom

walls still plastered with dinosaur charts

“Here’s where he cried because T-rexes couldn’t hug properly.”

he was four

slides you a secret USB

“Namjoon’s 2008 Poetry... So Emo It’s Art, also blackmail material for when he’s being too philosopher-dad.”

Hidden Detail

in his old desk, finds a 3rd-grade “Nature Journal”

scribbled theories on “Why Rainbows Belong to Snails”

tucked between pages: a cicada shell labeled “First Heartbreak”

slips it into his bag

later placing it in the nursery

“Proof even confusion can molt into something beautiful.”

The Drive Home

his mom chases the car with a crate of homegrown ssuk and perilla leaves

“Boil the roots! It’ll make the baby’s cry less!”

sister texts: [Attachment: Namjoon age 7, sobbing into a melted ice cream]

🌿 Daily Life

Routine & Rituals

6:03 AM

wakes before dawn to simmer doenjang-jjigae with organic soybeans and kale (he's really trying, and it's not ending in a catastrophe)

leaves notes in calligraphy

“Nourishment is resistance — eat or I’ll recite Hegelian dialectics at you.”

adds doodles of scowling Brussels sprouts and a tiny Plato holding a fork

Post-Lunch Meditation

guides you through “forest bath” visualizations in your living room jungle

“Imagine your lungs as maple seeds… no, gently, you menace.”

his palms are warm and steady

pressing into your shoulders

“The iliac crest isn’t a metaphor, but today? Let’s pretend it is.”

Idol-Life Adjustments

converts his studio bookshelf into a “Zen Den”

matcha packets, lavender sachets, vintage Newton’s cradle for “stress diffusion”

texts PDogg:

“Postpone the feature... I’m optimizing circadian rhythms for two.”

secretly puts a prenatal Pilates ball in his studio

Chores

Laundry Wars

debates Jungkook over eco-detergent pH levels in the group chat

“Lavender is a neurotoxin to fetuses! Cite: Environmental Health Perspectives, 2019!”

Jungkook retaliates

“Hyung, your armpits are the real neurotoxin.”

(tho forget abpout this, I read about Dysfunction of the ABCCII gene, means asian sweat doesn't smell - god, I wish)

Culinary Experiments

attempts kimchi-jjigae

burns the first batch

blames “overzealous thermodynamic exchange”

his mom texts you her recipe with a note to Joon

“Stop intellectualizing the soup.”

Idol Life Impact

skips award show after-parties to chart the moon phases on your belly

writes lullabies sampling Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass” over Moonchild instrumentals

practices babywearing with a handwoven hemp sling

“Ergonomic and a statement against fast fashion.”

Quiet Moments

4:33 AM Playlist Crafting

curates “Symbiosis: A Prelude” 

= blend of bird migration recordings

RM’s trivia: love ad-libs + Yoongi’s Seesaw humming

hidden track: a poem he whispers to your belly nightly

“You are the first universe that ever knew me from the inside.”

Voice Memos

records The Alchemist chapters in English and Korean

apologizes to the bump after mispronouncing

“Forgive me... Appa’s still learning how to hold multiple worlds at once.”

Hidden Clumsiness

knocks over your Himalayan salt lamp (again)

while demonstrating “kangaroo care”

uses the debris to create a mosaic titled “Fragmented Enlightenment”

you find it later in the nursery

labeled “Lesson One: Beauty in Imperfection”

🌏 Public Announcement

Lead-Up

Media Lockdown

hires an eco-conscious cybersecurity firm to "reforest your digital footprint"

code name: "Project Photosynthesis" 

after Taehyung’s slip: "They’re our little sapling!"

convinces Big Hit to issue a statement about "protecting nascent ecosystems"

ARMY thinks it’s climate activism

ARMY Hints

wears a hand-carved gat (traditional hat) during a live

etched with "세상에서 가장 작은 별" (The World’s Tiniest Star)

ARMY deciphers it as a reference to his lyrics

trends #TinyConstellation

he “accidentally” leaves his journal open during a live

revealing a sketch of a tree root cradling a star

Reveal

three months postpartum

posts a watercolor painting on Weverse

his hand holding a seedling

roots entwined with his veins

caption: 

"ARMY, you taught me that growth is a dialogue between light and shadow. Now, I’ve been entrusted with a new dialect; the first breath of a forest I’ll never fully understand. Walk softly with us as we learn to whisper."

attaches a voice memo

= rain sounds, his spoken-word poem

"Dear Meteors Who Choose to Root"

ends with the baby’s coo harmonizing with a nightingale recording (Ilsan, 4:33 AM)

Aftermath

ARMY Reactions

trends #RootedInRM for 94 hours

ARMY plants 814,000 trees globally via "Kim Namjoon Forest Initiative"

donates $1.2M to UNESCO literacy programs "for futures untranslated"

Paparazzi Countermeasures

collaborates with a law firm to draft South Korea’s first "Right to Grow" digital privacy act

releases an anonymous ambient track

"Lens Crack Symphony" 

= field recordings of shuttering cameras dissolving into wind chimes

hosts a guerilla art exhibit

= blurred baby photos pixelated into Van Gogh’s Starry Night

titled "The Distance Between Love and Light"

Hidden Details

Journal Leak

later reveals the seedling painting used persimmon dye from his mom’s garden

Voice Memo Easter Egg

the nightingale recording is from his childhood Ilsan backyard

Law Impact

tabloid stalker photos drop 92%

paparazzi begin calling him "The Unphotographable"

🌱 When You Panic

Trigger

overhears a podcast debating "Nature vs. Nurture in Epigenetic Trauma" while sculpting clay in his studio

phrase like "generational echoes" lodges in his ribs like a splinter

clay cracks under his grip

shattering into jagged moons

Calm Facade, Storm Inside

finds you trembling after a nightmare

your hands clutching a parenting forum thread

cups your face

thumbs tracing the arc of your cheekbones like comet trails

voice steady but eyes galaxies-wide

"Even the oldest trees survived their first lightning strike. We’ll be the soil that grounds the burn."

Secret Meltdowns

sneaks to the balcony at 3 AM

recording a voice memo choked with static

"What if I… overcompensate? Love them too fiercely? Turn into Icarus’ sun?"

sends it to his therapist

texts you:

"Found this study on parental resilience . Want to co-author a rebuttal?"

Acts of Service

brews yuzu tea in his chipped moon-phase mug

one from your first museum date

"Emergency aesthetic intervention required."

dumps two baby socks on your lap

one printed with Kant’s Categorical Imperative

the other with "Ask Me About My Carbon Footprint".

"Which one says ‘I’m fiscally responsible but fun at parties’?"

Idol-Life Impact

skips a UN panel on sustainability

citing "an urgent planetary realignment."

spends the day building a "sensory sanctuary" 

hanging felt clouds, wind chimes tuned to Spring Day’s key

writes a 12-page letter to the baby instead of his keynote speech

"You’ll inherit a world I’ve criticized but still believe in. Forgive me for both."

Hidden Resilience

you find his studio desk littered with failed haiku

"My love is a net / Too many holes, too much sky / Catch nothing but light."

beside it, a single completed verse pinned under a geode

"You will know me / Not by the scars I hid / But the bridges I couldn’t stop building."

🌧️ If Something Goes Wrong (+ Loss)

Hospital Vigils

stands sentinel by your bed

reciting Mary Oliver poems to your IV drip

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious...” 

his voice fractures

bathes your wrists with rosewater from his mother’s garden

hands shaking

“In another universe, we’re still whole. Let’s… let’s borrow from there tonight.”

Guilt/Aftermath

spirals into annotating every parenting book with “Where did I fail?” in crimson ink

you find him at dawn

knee-deep in the backyard pond

he's planting lotus seeds “for unbloomed futures”

studio becomes a shrine of half-scribbled equations

Grief = (Regret x Time) ÷ Unsaid Words

“(Unsung Verse)”

composed at 4:33 AM on a detuned hotel piano during monsoon season

no lyrics

just the hum of rain against glass

single sustained G minor

files it under “Metamorphosis_Data”

encrypts it with a password even he forgets

Post Loss

cancels his Bottega collab/shoot

citing “a necessary erosion”

ARMY trends #StandWithRM

funding a forest reserve in Ilsan named “Seeds Grove.”

he visits

hangs a wind chime from a persimmon tree

“You would’ve loved the sound of rain here.”

Support System

Jin drags him to a pottery studio

slams clay onto a wheel

“Sculpt something that can’t be quantified.”

they sit until dawn

molding silent vases for flowers that never arrive

Jungkook leaves a bonsai sapling on your porch

“It’s okay if it wilts. We’ll grow it again.”

Namjoon keeps it alive

“See? We’re still learning.”

Yoongi mails a USB labeled “For When Words Are Too Loud” 

ambient tracks layered with Namjoon’s old laugh from 2014

Bonus

five years later, during his TED Talk on “The Ecology of Loss”

soft G minor chord seeps into his mic

his toddler "Haewon" toddles backstage

he freezes

“Apologies. My heart’s just… recalibrating its orbit.”

🌌 Gender Reveal

Reaction

ultrasound tech smiles

“Looks like a girl!”

Namjoon’s breath hitches

eyes pooling with constellations

“A daughter… She’ll rewrite every star.”

buys a sapling from the DMZ forest to plant in her name

“So she’ll always know where resilience grows.”

tech corrects

“Wait, no! ...it’s a boy!”

freezes

then grins like he’s solved the universe’s riddle

“A son? Then we’ll learn gravity anew.”

orders a hand-bound journal titled “Hypotheses on Joy” to fill with their future questions

Late-Night Promises

whispers to your belly while sketching the moon’s craters

“You’ll carve your own orbit. Be sculptor or storm. I’ll be your compass, never your cage.”

plays a mixtape of rainfall

“Rhythm isn’t in blood; it’s in the spaces between heartbeats.”

Hidden Rebellion

declines all gender-reveal sponsorships

donates the offers to a nonbinary youth arts fund

tweets a snippet of Audre Lorde’s “There is no hierarchy of oppression”

caption:

“Hierarchies are human-made. My child is a natural phenomenon.”

🌱 Labor & Delivery

Prep

packs a hospital bag weeks early

includes: hand-knit hemp blanket

worn copy of “The Prophet” for whispered readings

portable mini bonsai

“For biophilic stress reduction”

memorizes your birth plan like a thesis defense

color-coded tabs

debates delayed cord clamping using Harvard studies

defers when you snap mid-contraction

“Trust the forest to know its roots.”

During Labor

channels his lyrics count breaths

“Inhale… four… seven… exhale...”

fidgets in his pocket

reciting Rumi under his breath

when contractions peak, he presses his forehead to yours

voice cracking

“You’re the Big Bang happening again. Let it… let it supernova.”

white-knuckles the bedrail

snaps it twice 

First Hold

cuts the cord with tears in his eyes

hands steady but soul trembling

cradles the baby like a relic

awe-struck

speechless (for once)

“You… you’re the poem I could never finish.”

Jungkook finds him at dawn

sketching the baby’s hand in his journal

“Proof that softness can reshape calluses.”

Hidden Moments

Panic Peak

flees to the hospital garden

sobbing into his sleeves

returns with acorn seeds to plant in the baby’s name

BTS Support

Taehyung paints a watercolor of the birth chart stars

Jimin choreographs a “welcome dance” with hospital socks

Lockscreen Lore

photo of the baby

captioned “My First Co-Author”

🌍 Idol Life Challenges

Touring Adjustments

negotiates "modular tour schedules"

two-week blocks with carbon-neutral travel offsets

publishes a Weverse series: "Parenthood in 7 Languages" 

= from hotel lobbies, baby strapped to his chest in a hanbok-style sling

FaceTimes you whenever he isn't there

"Tell them Appa’s dismantling patriarchal systems and mastering bottle sterilization."

Backstage Innovations

designs a "Portable Ecosystem" bassinet

= soundproof, air-purified, with a mini-library of global folktales

staff catch him debating naptime schedules with his manager

"Melatonin cycles vs. timezone optimization… we need a third axis for emotional bandwidth."

producers receive track notes like:

"Bridge too jarring... Babys stress spiked during playback. Revise."

Privacy Protocols (after birth)

codename: "Project Metamorphosis" (BTS group chat) + "Symbiosis" (public filings)

threatens paparazzi with "a TED Talk on the ethics of voyeurism" instead of diss tracks

updates IG bio: "Curator of small wonders." 

archives old posts

replacing them with abstract clay sculptures titled "The Weight of New Gravity."

BTS Support System

Jin’s Uncle Duties

hosts Kimchi nights

teaches the baby to grip cabbage while lecturing on Kantian ethics

"Ethics are like fermentation... both require patience and good bacteria."

Hobi’s Playdates

creates "Microbeat Workshops"

tiny tambourines

sock-covered maracas

films a tutorial

"Dancing Through Sleep Deprivation: A 7-Step Guide to Joyful Survival."

Yoongi’s Stealth Care

slides a USB into Namjoon’s studio

"Parenting Lo-fi: 24/7 Lullaby Beats to Overthink To."

secretly buys noise-cancelling headphones sized for infants

"For when Bangtan’s chaos is too iconic."

Taehyung’s Art Therapy

paints the nursery ceiling like the Van Gogh Museum

replaces stars with ARMY bombs

"Aesthetic and culturally relevant. Teach them young."

Jungkook’s Training

leaves a mini "Future Golden Maknae" workout plan

"0-3 mos: Grip strength (finger holds) 4-6 mos: Core stability (tummy time to Dynamite BPM)"

Hidden Stress Tells

over-researches "infant sleep regression in multilingual households" at 3 AM (as if their was a serious coreelation)

wears mismatched socks during diaper crises

quotes Thoreau during meltdowns

"Simplify, simplify… but how, Henry?!

🌿 Bonus Headcanons

family dog in 3...2...1...

Nicknames/Nonsense

calls the baby “Haewon” (sun and garden) as a placeholder

“It’s just… phonetically efficient!”

secretly tests names via Scrabble tiles

arranging letters into constellations

when they cling to his leg during a Live, he dubs them

“For their relentless grip on my existential crises.”

Late Nights

falls asleep annotating “The Art of Parenting in a Climate Crisis” 

margin notes: 

“How to explain melting glaciers to a toddler? Start with snow cones.”

bookmarks tabs: “Raising Anti-Capitalist Kids in a Late-Stage World” and “Is My Guilt Biodegradable?”

First Studio Visit

lets them “remix” his track by banging a wooden spoon on his awards

samples the chaos into an interlude called “Symbiosis: Noise & Nuance.”

plays it during a UNICEF speech

“This is the sound of hope refusing to be tempo-locked.”

Hidden Sentimentality

writes their milestones in the margins of his Walden copy

”First steps: 10/7. Proof that wilderness walks are innate.”

teaches them to say “Annyeonghaseyo” to his bonsai collection

“Respect all roots, human or not.”

secretly saves their crayon scribbles as NFT art titled “Post-Human Abstract Expressionism.”

note [06/05/25] : he wouldn't, I was not aware of the environmental impact of NFT's when writing this. I have to thank the person asking me about this in this NFT REQUEST

[damn this took me soooo long, but can I borrow him? for a week? pls... bc my so called father is buying milk since 2002]

[loganlermanstanaccount]

RM! Miguel O'Hara headcanons (SFW)

(Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: In light of the most recent chapter of my college au fic, Rigor mortis; here are some headcanons I have for this version of Miguel <3 .

warnings: none, just fluff :)

a/n: trying to get out of bad writer's block with some drabbles. looking through my asks and making my way through them rn!

wc: 0.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's meant to wear reading glasses but literally never does. You see him squinting at shit all over the apartment, and it only really clicks when you catch him early in the morning (because I know he wakes up at disgusting hours in the day to be productive) and he's got a pair on.

He gives amazing gifts. I feel like he's really detail oriented so he'll take forever to choose meaningful gifts. Not even necessarily expensive; just something that shows he pays attention to conversations: like that item of clothing you loved but can’t afford, something super specific for your hobbies, a whole bunch of books you like because you just mentioned a specific author or genre you love.

Conversely, he's the kind of person that's really difficult to buy gifts for. Everything that he could possibly want, he'll just buy for himself; his interests are too niche for you to buy him tools and things; and he'd give you absolutely bs answers when you ask him straight up. You'd be like, hey, I know your birthday’s soon, what do you want; and he'll say oh, I just want you to be happy, or I have everything I need right here, baby. And you'll be like ok cool, is that yes or a no on the ipad? 

Coffee addict. Has all the expensive machines and fancy filters. He lives pretty modestly, but it is the one thing he'll really invest in. 

Similarly, will collect old tech and gadgets just to fiddle around with. He has a box of junk underneath his bed that lowkey he’s been building up since he was a kid. I feel like he was such a curious kid and all his tías and tíos would pinch his cheeks and pat his head and give him all their old junk because he shows an interest.

Sleeps like a dad on the couch. Especially after a long day. He stretches out on the sofa like a cat with his hand on bare belly and it is simultaneously super fucking funny and kind of hot??? Like you can see his happy trail and that peek of tan skin and you just knoww that v line is sharp asf.

He talks to himself. Especially after a frustrating day, and it's pretty funny to watch. He becomes so animated and will have a whole ass conversation with himself whilst chopping veg, or something. He'd wave the knife around, playing both sides of a situation. It helps him to decompress and logically reason with difficult problems. It's something he will 10000% deny if you bring it up. 

He's funny. Not necessarily laugh out loud, quippy one liners; but he has a super dry sense of humor. He's fond of a deadpan, and will often play it straight whilst saying something ridiculous. I feel like no-one usually gets when he's being sarcastic, but for some reason you do, and it makes his eyes go wide the first time. Like you catch something he says under his breath and laugh; and he's stuttering because people don't usually have the same kind of humor as him. 

long story short, he's a big ol' softie. more bark than bite :)

_

_

_

[13thdoctorposts]

New Jodie Photo Drop Find the article here

Credits: Photography Matt Holyoak @mattholyoak Styling Kate Sinclair @katesinclair___ Hair Ben Cooke @bencooke_lockonego Makeup Tahira @tahira_makeup Photography assistants Tom Frimley @tom_frimley, Joe Smith maisonsmithh Digi tech Henry Jackson @henryjphoto Styling assistant Tejashree Raul @tejashreeraul Retouch Studio RM @studio__rm Art direction Jamie McPherson @jmecreates Production Matt Richardson-Wood @richardsonmatt Agency @cedarcontent_ for @british_airways With thanks to The Standard, London @thestandardlondon@purplepr

[pokemonshelterstories]

Out of curiosity (Read: for my own sanity.) are the videos you get from RM and IV only for researchers or are they open to the public? My 9 year old brother has developed an obsession with paradox Pokemon and I'm pretty sure those Blurry Mewtube people take every time one escapes Area Zero are currently the only thing keeping him from following the rangers around Everytime they get called out. (I'm like 80% sure that that's hyperbole) I'm making sure he knows how dangerous they are but this is the first time he's taken an interest in anything remotely academic and I don't want to discourage that.

If those videos aren't public domain do you have any suggestions on related stuff that I can show him? I'm planning on getting him copies of the Scarlet and Violet books for Christmas.

they're not open to the public yet, but the goal is to make them public within a couple of years. it's just a matter of getting all the tech set up and getting approval from the league, which takes a lot longer than you might think, but we're hoping that at least a couple of our camera streams will be opened up for public access before too long! RM and IV's cams don't take continuous video (they only take a minute at the start of every hour), but we've lately installed some static trail cams that run 24/7 that provide a lot more general footage of the wild pokemon in area zero. once we open up footage to the public, my team hopes to host weekly virtual chats on discord to discuss cam footage with the public and answer questions!

thankfully for your sanity, there hasn't been a breakout from the great crater in over a year, and the presence of researchers and rangers inside the crater means that it's fairly unlikely that we'll have more breakouts anytime soon. unfortunately, a lot of information coming out about paradox pokemon is really geared toward an academic audience. instead, i'd recommend looking into requesting a library card for the naranja-uva academy library! you'll probably have to pay if you're not enrolled in the academy, but a card will give you access to the academy's digital library archives, and there are some neat but not very well-known older texts about paradox pokemon in there. i've lately been reading the letters and journals of some of the other members of the team that accompanied heath to area zero, and that's been really fascinating to read about! just make sure you help him navigate through what sources he reads, because some of them get pretty intense.

[jjcocker]

to me the rhythm tiys are actua existing Things in the rh universe. Like. theyre beyond just toys not just rhythm toys but likr the general extras (airboardwrs, live, maybe eve n some o the endless games ? idkkkkkk)

some are like.. tv programs/shows. I have sooo many ideas for all of them (all of tengoku and ds bc i only played those 💓)

The airboarders specificallt. are like a kids show

and this might be strange because I forgot how they are canonically so lkie idk of thisll make sense; The ingame airboarders are actually a reboot and meant for like...younger audiences . originally it was like... idk think of shows like he-man (which ive never actually seen a Lot of wehh, but likr in terms of style and general Vibe the original airboarders show was going for, it was like he man)

update i looked ot up to ve sure and theyre actually from comic books but its also implied rhey have a tv show SO what im saying can ve canon too HA HA.

--

cat machine Im gonna be biased. because ITS MY FAVORIRTETE THYNRM TOY EVERR RRRGTGRGRGR RRGEJRGBEJFLWKD THE PEAKEST OF PEAKS OK??!!!!?!?!?? I so have several thoughts including thefact that I put my furry skills to use and made it anthro and like... now i actually Thoughr of something that can be plausible for it :3c;

basically it was only like.. a secondary character to a kids show. it was barely relevant really. and ut was also like. uhh an animatronic?? Without the. whole drad kid inside thing because this is a kids game vro 💔sorry im getting offtrack. but it was like.. idk think of like chuck e cheese i never went to any i just know it has like robots that sing and thats kind of how mycat machine is. And also like in terms of #teching it was soooo cuttin efge for the time. I dont lnow any specifics really but it was the SHITTT at the time.

it was never meant to be like a main character but kids loved the kitty so much it eventually got its own spin off show :) and yk it was so so Known... the ingame neko machine is merch for it

by da 2000s tho it started getting obsolete and the target audience grew up. the corpo that mare it couldnt keep up w the times and just threw it out + declared bankruptcy

i would tske this to talk about the fact that this is also where the story for a rarepair w it that i took out my ass starts but itll get very veyr very offtrack

also it has like sentience and the fact it has that was kind of unitentional. i mea n it had to like be all Happy yayy!! to please the children but idk they didnt expect it to feel like remorse. or schadenfreude or something

--

rap machine... ivse said this before but i think the rap machine ingame is Solely a commercial version and that the actual rap machine looks and sounds like crap. it has like the shittiest audio quality and the paint job is horrid jdfjddj... like idk the rm as a Brand .. didnr really idk Knoe how to do stuff all they really know watta do is uhh rap around YO

this was the only time the rw didnt steal the concept from them. because it was so sucks.💔

[getvalentined]

Obtained Key Item: New PSU

All plugged in and back in business! It's an annoying install, but it's super simple—a friendly reminder that you don't need the (expensive) services of a certified tech specialist to replace a failing PSU in a desktop PC. You need a screwdriver, the ability to read the specs printed on the old one, and like $50 to get a new one. And maybe 20 minutes, max, to install it.

Or you can RMS your tower and wait weeks to months for it to get serviced, if it ever gets serviced at all—

[viperlotus]

proposal: Inside Job, Gravity Falls, and the SCP Foundation exist in the same universe

might be niche but just hear me out and pls don't yell at me if anything's wrong :(

in Inside Job, Cognito Inc. was canonically founded at the very least before 1997 by Randall Ridley and J.R. Scheimpough, and holds control over the American government by creating, maintaining, and covering up conspiracies and secrets from the public eye

in Gravity Falls, we're made aware of the existence of anomalies, specifically those within and surrounding the Oregon town, specifically through studies by Stanford Pines that took place between 1975 to 1983 when he disappeared into the portal, and specifically with the Pines' twins summer of 2012

Gravity Falls seems like the exact kinda town that Cognito would want to cover up—seriously, how the hell else do you explain its almost complete isolation? literally being erased off maps?? no outsider ever noticing anything??? i mean, the Blind Eye Society does exist but how often do they actually manage to catch someone who's witnessed an incident and erase their memory of it

IN INSIDE JOB, CANONICALLY THERE IS LITERALLY AN ENTRANCE TO HOLLOW EARTH VIA A MINING FACILITY IN OREGON. I REPEAT, CANONICALLY THERE IS A FUCKING ENTRANCE TO THE HOLLOW EARTH IN OREGON, HELLO??

additionally, the Shadow Board has apparently existed since the dawn of time's existence. Bill Cipher is billions and billions of years old and from a separate dimension, one he ripped apart; who's to say he didn't dabble with them and the Six Societies at some point (yes, i am referring to the Illuminati in particular). and don't even get me STARTED on everything he supposedly did to fuck with people as per the Book of Bill

and the SCP Foundation's existence is kinda self-explanatory; anomalies are fucking everywhere. from my own research into the in-universe lore, the foundation possibly could have been founded as early as the 1800s (one article says it was in 1891 but i'm not sure if an actual date was collectively agreed on). i wouldn't say it's far of a reach to say the facilities agreed to work alongside Cognito to keep anomalies contained and further hidden from public knowledge.

AS CANON AS POSSIBLE TIMELINE:

millennia ago — the Order of the Black Robes is established

c. 1,000,000,000,012 BCE — Bill Cipher's birth in Euclydia

c. 1,000,000,000 BCE — Weirdmaggedon is prophesied

c. 30,000,000 BCE — the flying saucer crash that creates the Gravity Falls valley occurs

c. 100,000 BCE — the first human society was created

c. 4800-3000 BCE — around when SCP-2191 is believed to have been created

1800 BCE — Pharaoh Amenemhat comments on wanting Bill to leave them alone

c. 1054 — the Catholic Church is established

c. 1400s, France — where SCP-049 claims to originate

1500s — an English mother recites a nursery rhyme meant to warn children about Bill

c. 1500-1600s — Bill says he wanted to make a deal with an Atlantean emperor but had declared war against another before he could

1692 — The Witches' Rebellion, New England

1696 — SCP-3838 is discovered

1800s — the Special Containment Procedure Foundation is established

1901 — the Anti-Cipher Society is formed

1912 — the RMS Titantic was an invasion fleet ship is sent by the Atlanteans; it is sunk by the Shadow Board to stop them

1930 — Cipher Symphonies is created by Elias Inkwell (and is shortlived)

c. late 1940s-early 50s — Stan and Ford are born, and likely so were Rand, J.R., and Tamiko as they are all middle-aged in their respective canon with the Pines twins being older by a few years

1947 — Bill is documented by the U.S. Government

early 1970s — Ford enrolls into Backupsmore University after being rejected from West Coast Tech; ends up roommates with Fiddleford

late 1970s — Rand and J.R. both enroll or have been enrolled in Harvard University, ending up as roommates

1975 — Ford arrives in Gravity Falls

c. 1980 — Ford and Bill meet as the former summons the demon and begin to work together

c. 1980s — Bill makes deals with programmers and engineers to create the Maniacintosh, a computer system capable of hypnosis

1981 — Ford begins writing Journal 3

1982 — Fiddleford comes to Gravity Falls and works with Ford on the portal as per his request; the two visit Crash Site Omega

July 4th, 1982 — the last date marked on Ford's calendar in his room ("Carpet Diem")

1983 — Fiddleford creates the Memory Gun and begins constructing the bunker early January; Fiddleford quits the project in a couple days later; Fiddleford comes up with the idea of the Blind Eye Society in early Februarydisappears into the interdimensional portal; Stan fakes his own death and takes Ford's identity to cover the incident up

c. 1985-1990 — Rand invents Project Reboot; Cognito Inc. is founded after he and J.R. are kidnapped by the Shadow Board and offered to run a secret society under them

1990 — both Brett and Reagan are born

August 31, 1999 — Dipper and Mabel are born

c. 2011 — when Ron Staedtler claims he began erasing memories for the Illuminati

2012 — Journal 3 is discovered by Dipper in early June; Ford is brought back by Stan's efforts to his home dimension sometime between late July and early August; Weirdmaggedon ends late August; the twins leave for California the first of September

2016 — Fiddleford wins the U.S. Presidential Election and becomes the 45th president (i fucking wish he did...)

November 8, 2021 — Reagan is introduced to Brett; her creation of Alpha Beta goes rouge ("Unpresidented")

c. 2022 — after she is promoted as CEO, Reagan is contacted by the Shadow Board and offered a partnership to which she agrees; the Shadow Board begins the execution of a plan by the name of Project X37. obligatory "fuck you" to Netflix for canceling it because now we'll never know what the fuck happens to everyone

2024 — Bill creates the Book of Bill and is still currently in Theraprism

3012 — the predicted end of the world

[plenilune]

time for random music recs with Crowe! here are five things I discovered recently that rip. none of them sound like each other. remember that I am an insane person.

WASH IT ALL OFF - foetus. okay so my partner is doing deep dives into various forms of occultism and chaos magic for a writing project and I am slowly circling the history of industrial music because of who I am as a person. which means they mentioned something about J.G. Thirlwell the other day from the area they know him from and I excitedly chimed in with what I knew him from (producing and playing on some of Coil's best records and generally running with that whole extended scene) and then I realised I've never really listened to Foetus (and all its alternate names) and honestly this song fucks so hard I haven't been able to get past it. the unhinged circus organ lick! SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICSADOMASOCHISTIC! Thirlwell also scored, uh, the entirety of THE VENTURE BROS. so.

BLODYN GWYRDD - tristwch y fenywod. another occultist rec! Phil Hine wrote some great shit about queerness and chaos magic in the 80s and 90s and also he maintains a charmingly low-key online presence chatting with other hobbyists and weirdos (appears to be pals with Justin Hopper of Old Weird Albion and of course Ghost Box Records). anyway he recommended this Welsh psych folk goth freak folk band on his bluesky account (shhh I'm so CHARMED) and I'm immediately obsessed. this is the kind of wet mossy slime magick music you want for reading an issue of Hellebore Magazine or Plastiboo's VERMIS or going off into the woods alone. synthy drums, off-kilter hammer dulcimer, drone and howl. fucking NICE.

KITE WAR - hyukoh + sunset rollercoaster. my friend JD @weekenddracula posted he was listening to this album while journaling at the library and something perked my interest -- it FUCKS. collaboration between two of the biggest names in indie rock (funk/soul/r&b/little bit of 70s dreampop and classic Japanese citypop) in Taiwan and Korea. so much fizzy, jammy production, great Mamas And The Papas-esque/2007 US/Canadian indie rock layered vocals, saxophone that skims over you like a wartenberg wheel. grooves for DAYS. obsessed. if you like Nujabes, Handsomeboy Techninique, Cornelius, or RM's recent killer album Right Person, Wrong Place, you'll dig this. stimulating but also incredibly relaxing.

ADVENTURES IN GREEN FOOT PRINTING - james ferraro. so I guess this bloke was doing vaporwave before it was vaporwave? I've only explored a little of his discography but this album (FAR SIDE VIRTUAL, 2011) is incredible. vibey, tactile, the sounds of 90s tech optimism with room for play and invention. this is a really, really playful track, with cascades of giddy piano and synthy keyboard choruses.

YUCKY BLUCKY FRUITCAKE - doechii. did you hear this when it was a tiktok personal introduction meme? complete disservice to a great, weird little autobiography, playing with sound, playing with genre, playing with confession, playing with expectation. Doechii's vocals are a fucking rubber band. there's shades of theatre kid; the riff on Paramore's "The Only Exception" is incredible. the bridge of "you forgot to take the chicken out" is the most oldest-daughter shit I've ever heard in my life. this is an INCREDIBLE track, sampling without sampling, irreverent and earnest. anyway Doechii's recent mixtape rules and so does her Tiny Desk Concert. uh. I'm gay

[alwaysbethewest]

Kingsman 2 fic: Stay Close to Me

Happy @pedrostories Secret Santa day, y'all 💃 I was thrilled when I received my assignment and saw that I'd be writing for my sweet friend @iamskyereads 😁 Skye, I hope you have a merry Christmas and I hope this little story helps make it bright. (Okay a quick note: generally speaking I don't believe in apologizing for your writing, but I do feel like a small apology is merited here. Halfway through writing this fic I started to panic because I felt like I wasn't really meeting the brief of your prompt 😬 I started wondering if I should start over from scratch but I was already too far into it. I accidentally wrote you... a case fic???? With a smidgen of romance sprinkled in. I'm sorry! Despite my stress over that realization I did have a lot of fun writing this and I hope you will enjoy it anyway!)

Title: Stay Close to Me Pairing: Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels)/f!Reader Rating: Teen Word Count: 5.3k Content/warnings: Fake/undercover marriage! Statesman casefic! A little romance, kissing, coarse language, very mild peril and hurt/comfort, and a splash of alcohol. Reader is a junior agent and has some muscle but otherwise no physical/age descriptions. As with any good Kingsman fic, my first step was to disregard half of canon, so this is either pre-movie or an AU. Unbetaed but thanks as ever to @fleetwoodmactshirt and @mourningbirds1 for their hand-holding ❤️ Please let me know if you spot any typos/mistakes.

The Statesman offices are housed in a sleek highrise in Midtown, a 40-minute commute from your tiny apartment. To anyone who asks, you work in the marketing department, and you’ve learned enough by now to drone on about synergistic strategies for diversifying market shares to bore anyone listening, but to those in the know, behind passcode-guarded doors, you’re Agent Violette, junior analyst for the private intelligence agency hidden behind the national whiskey brand.

For a secret spy job, your work is actually fairly routine. Most of your time is spent doing research and compiling intel for agents working out in the field. Occasionally your boss sends you into the field yourself—little baby excursions to get your feet wet—and you won’t pretend you haven’t enjoyed the thrill. But your desk job is comfortable, and satisfying, and you’ve got no complaints.

It’s Wednesday, and the only sign something out of the ordinary may be taking place is the note you find on your desk when you clock in. It takes only a little of your codebreaking expertise to interpret:

9:15 AM—mtg w/ Agt. C rm 806

Room 806 is a teleconference room furnished with a small table and a handful of chairs. One seat is occupied when you get there.

Agent Whiskey raises an eyebrow at you from under his cowboy hat. The accessory is so out of place in the urban streets of New York City that when you’d first met him you’d wondered if it was an affectation—a marketing ploy to signal the authenticity of the Kentucky bourbon your company sells on the side. But while you haven’t worked closely with him, you’d quickly learned it seems he’s just… like that.

He slides a folder towards you and you accept it as you take a seat and don your glasses.

“Any idea what this is about?” he asks.

You shake your head. Just as you open your mouth to speak, the comms switch on and Agent Champagne appears across the table before you, via the technological wonder that is your projection spectacles. More high-tech and more secure than Zoom, they’re one of the many things that sets Statesman apart from lesser spy agencies.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Whiskey straighten up slightly in his chair.

“Jack!” Agent Champagne greets him. “How was Munich?”

“All good, sir,” he drawls. “You’ll have the full report this afternoon.”

“Very good,” the older man rumbles. He turns his attention to you. “And Agent, uh—” His eyes shift down to the notes on his desk. “Agent Violette. Good to have you on board.”

You’ve worked at Statesman for three years, but you’re still too low on the org chart to have landed on the director’s radar before this. He says your code name like vie-oh-let instead of the French pronunciation you prefer, but there’s an affability to him that makes it go over easier.

“Thank you, sir.”

“So, California,” he says, diving into the brief. Whiskey opens his file folder and you follow suit. The top page features a short itinerary and a character profile that you quickly learn is a new undercover alias. Violet Davenport. You like the name. She sounds high society. Glancing over to Whiskey’s file, you spot his alias and your brows raise involuntarily.

Johnny Davenport.

Hm.

“Vineyard owner out there is concerned about a potential theft. He’s received some threats and needs a couple of bodies on the ground to sniff out the trouble,” Agent Champagne states.

“Theft of what, exactly?” Agent Whiskey asks.

“Wine. Money. The usual. He’s got his personal wine collection stored on the premises. You know the business—some of those bottles are worth a pretty penny. Mr. Peterson—that’s the client—says he has a list of suspects for you to look at.” Champ waves a hand, looking vaguely unimpressed. “Obviously you’ll have to use your own judgment on whether any of his theories check out.”

“Sir, I don’t understand why I’m being sent on such a simple assignment,” Whiskey says. “No disrespect,” he adds belatedly, glancing at you. You give him your politest go-along-to-get-along smile.

Champ looks like he’s torn between amusement or annoyance at Agent Whiskey’s attitude.

“Same reason for anything, Jack. Politics. This client has close connections in the state government over there. If we can solve this simple problem for him, it may just lead to more prestigious cases. Ones you’ll feel are worthy of your valuable time.”

Jack should look chastened, but he doesn’t. He does stop arguing, though.

“I need a senior agent on the case. And Violet’s supervisor assures me she’s got the research and fieldwork skills to step up on this one. Your cover is a married couple on an anniversary trip, so I’m basically sending you on a paid vacation, here. There’s more information in the files you’ve got.”

Whiskey flips through the pages half-heartedly and gives a curt nod.

“Well!” Agent Champagne slaps his hands on the table decisively. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Mazel tov!” With that he ends the transmission.

And that’s how you find yourself at the airport Friday morning with a diamond ring on your left hand and a disgruntled cowboy by your side.

The flight lands in San Francisco without incident, and Jack shifts into doting husband mode as you head to pick up the rental car the agency has reserved. He reaches for your suitcase to load it into the trunk.

“Let me get that for you, sweetheart.”

You give him a saccharine-sweet smile. “I’ve got it, hon.”

You lift the heavy bag with ease and watch his mouth purse for a second before he smiles back.

“I guess my baby’s stronger than she looks.”

The bored-looking attendant sees you off and Jack has you punch in the GPS destination while he eases into the busy freeway traffic. He’s a confident, slightly impatient driver, but you see him relax once you’re over the bridge and sailing smoothly north on Interstate 80.

“So what’s our game plan?” he asks as highway signs for Napa begin to appear, and you reach for your notebook and flip it open.

There’s only one bed.

You probably should have done the math on this as soon as Agent Champagne declared you a married couple, but in the whirlwind of arranging to leave town and the anxiety of stepping into your biggest field operation to date, it hadn’t occurred to you to worry about the precise nature of your accommodations.

Jack sets his bags down and flops onto the bed, letting the soles of his cowboy boots dangle off the end. It’s an exaggerated display of exhaustion, but you’re tired too after a seven-hour flight and another two hours in the car. His lanky body takes up the whole length of the bed and you try not to let your eyes linger as you contemplate the sleeping arrangements.

He picks up on your hesitation.

“This is where I’m supposed to do the gentlemanly thing and let you have the bed all to yourself, huh? Sorry, sister, not gonna happen.” His tone softens. “But I promise I don’t bite. There’s no reason we can’t share.”

The only couch in the room is a small, overstuffed loveseat that you can tell at a glance neither of you would enjoy reclining on for long. So you do the mature thing and agree to sleep with him.

Not like that.

Bill Peterson, the agency’s client, is one of those people who claim to be easygoing while in reality they exude nonstop nervous energy.

“I know exactly who it is,” he tells you in a hushed voice. You and Jack are in his office, under the guise of a private tour of the winery. Peterson has been going over what you already know from the file: that he has a high-value collection of wine held on the estate, as well as a hard drive storing what he’ll only describe as “sensitive” material; that he’s received several vague threats recently; and that with the hustle and bustle of harvest season upon them, he’s concerned his regular security won’t be sufficient to stop the would-be thieves.

“Oh?” you say. “Well, that will be very helpful, Mr. Peterson.”

“Okay,” he amends. “Maybe not exactly, but I can give you a list. Of suspects.”

“We’ve seen the list,” Jack tells him. “But what is it that makes you suspect these folks in particular?”

“They’re mostly other winery owners,” Peterson says. “Everyone on that list was present at a party I attended a few months ago where I—let slip some details about my collection. It was only after that the letters started.”

You and Jack exchange a glance. You’re both wondering if “let slip” isn’t code for “bragged loudly.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t gone to the police?” you ask. His eyes narrow.

“I value discretion,” he says tightly. “Anyway—I’m not sure they’d consider the threats actionable.”

“Can we see them?” Jack asks.

“Of course.” He retrieves a small stack from his desk drawer. You and Whiskey put your heads together to pore over them.

They’re all written by one person, in slanted, blocky handwriting.

YOU WILL PAY.

YOU WILL LOSE EVERYTHING.

YOUR EMPIRE WILL CRUMBLE.

WE WILL CRUSH YOU.

“Is there another one?” you check. “There are five envelopes but only four notes.”

Peterson hesitates, then shrugs and shakes his head. He’s lying, but you don’t push it.

“There is one other thing,” he says. “I keep seeing this blue truck—but it’s like he doesn’t want to be spotted. I see it slow down like he’s scoping out the place, but then he speeds off as soon as he sees I’ve noticed. I tried to get the license plate but it was covered in mud.” He scoffs. “We haven’t had any rain in months.”

Jack has him describe the vehicle and where he’s seen it, while you take notes.

“Alright, Mr. Peterson. We’ll be in touch if we have any other questions.”

“Thank you. Oh—here.” He hands you a pair of vouchers for a free wine tasting. “They come with the tour. One thing you should know about Napa—you’ll only really blend in if you’ve got a glass of wine in your hand.”

Jack’s code name is Whiskey for a reason. He’s a spirits man through and through and he doesn’t give the tasting room a second look, ushering you out to get back to your room to regroup. Admittedly, it’s only 10 AM, but you would have enjoyed a few sips of merlot. You’re craning your neck a little to look at the wine list posted by the door—just out of curiosity—when he startles you by taking your hand in his. You look at him. He’s staring ahead, holding your hand like it’s nothing as you walk side by side. Finally, your brain catches up and your nine credits of college acting classes kick in and you plaster a loving smile onto your face, leaning closer.

In the privacy of your little rented cottage, you pull out your notes again to review.

“Peterson is lying about something,” you start. Jack nods distractedly.

“Yeah—listen, before we get into that, I need to ask you. You jumped when I held your hand back there,” he observes.

You feel your face heat with embarrassment. He’s calling you out on your inexperience, the rookie agent who can’t even play-act for a simple assignment. You can do it, you know. Being undercover in the field is just still new to you. He could help you instead of being critical.

“Sorry—”

“It’s my opinion,” he says, with a slight frown, “that a man who doesn’t treat his wife a certain way is no man at all.”

You’re lost, suddenly. “Sorry?”

“What I’m askin’ is, do I have your permission to touch you like you’re my wife when other people are around?”

Oh.

Something about the way he’s worded it makes your stomach do a little flip.

“Oh. Yes. Touch me like…?” You swallow. “Like how, exactly?”

He gives you a steady look.

“Intimately.”

That’s fine. You’re fine with that.

“Right. That’s—” you nod, maybe a little too emphatically. “That’s okay.”

You look down, fingering the pages of your notebook again, trying to refocus on the more analytical side of the job, when another thought occurs to you.

“Are you going to kiss me?” you blurt.

“Shit, Violet, that’s part and parcel of it.”

“It’s Violette,” you tell him with a frown.

“Sorry.”

“Do you even know my real name?”

“Of course I do,” he says. You don’t push it but you also don’t know whether to believe him. He’s shown little interest in working with you this entire week.

Jack takes a step towards you.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “So you don’t jump like a rabbit when I do it in public.”

You take a breath. Suck your bottom lip between your teeth involuntarily.

“Okay,” you tell him.

Your eyes fall shut as he leans in. You feel his fingers steadying your chin, tilting your face to meet his, and then his lips touching your mouth, light, tentative—teasing, your mind prompts, and the thought makes you feel flushed again. When you don’t shy away he presses closer and you’re not sure which of you is to blame when your lips part and his tongue brushes yours.

You were expecting it, so you don’t jump, but you feel a little trembly when he pulls away. He doesn’t step back right away—instead, his lips hover over your skin, mustache coarse against your soft cheek, as he tucks his mouth by your ear and quietly, intimately, says your name.

“So you think Peterson is lying,” he says, picking up the thread from before.

“Um,” you say, forcing your brain to switch back to work mode. Your whole body feels warm. “Yes. Don’t you think he seemed shady?”

Jack shrugs. “Call me jaded, I think most people are shady. But I agree with you. He lied about the missing letter. I fuckin’ hate when clients do that. What do you think about the blue truck he saw?”

“I think that could be something.”

You open your laptop and with a few keystrokes you’ve used a Statesman backdoor into the DMV system, where you enter the make, model, and color of the vehicle Peterson had described. There are no matching hits within Napa County, so you expand the search. It’s an unpopular color, so there are only a few dozen matches in the state. None of the owners’ names are on the list of suspects you’ve been given.

“He said he hasn’t seen it around town, only driving by his property. And we don’t know who owns it. So how do we find the car?” you wonder.

Jack is silent for a minute. You watch as a slow smile spreads across his face.

“I have an idea.”

This case originated at Statesman’s Kentucky headquarters, so Agent Ginger Ale is your tech liaison. It’s clear from their dynamic that she and Agent Whiskey have worked together before. Having her voice in your ear is a source of comfort as you carry out Jack’s great idea—which you’re not 100% sure you’re on board with.

“Don’t you need some kind of license to operate this?” you ask tentatively.

“Technically, on paper, he has one,” Ginger offers. “Well, Johnny Davenport does, anyway. As of twenty minutes ago.”

“It’s a balloon and a basket, how complicated could it be,” Jack grouses. This doesn’t exactly raise your confidence.

“Just don’t crash this one, Jack,” she pleads.

“This one?!”

He shakes his head. “You have one helicopter fail on you and they never let you live it down. Don’t listen to Ginger.”

To his credit, Jack pilots the hot air balloon much more smoothly than you’d expected, and after some time you feel yourself relaxing and enjoying the view. It’s early October and the landscape is a mix of green and brown from the last of the summer heat. Tidy rows of grape vines are bordered by houses and larger wineries, copses of trees, and fields dotted with grazing cows. Tiny workers move methodically among the vines, busy harvesting fruit to be pressed and fermented. Through it all, highways and winding roads run alongside the properties, and this is where you refocus your attention.

Ginger has programmed your binoculars to register any vehicles matching the description of the blue truck you’re seeking. You train the lenses on the backroads and driveways, looking for private hiding places it could be stashed.

The whole endeavor feels like a long shot, and you’re just on the verge of suggesting you give up and head back to base when the binocs let out a high-pitched beep of recognition, zooming in on your target.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. “I can’t believe this worked.”

“I told you it would,” Jack says, looking smug. “What is that place?”

Ginger has looked up the coordinates before you have a chance to do it yourself.

“It’s a winery… Double Loop Vineyards. Do you guys know that name?”

You recognize it immediately. The owner is one of the names on Bill Peterson’s list of suspects.

You and Jack exchange a look.

“Guess we’re goin’ wine tasting at Double Loop,” he says, and he turns to start your descent.

The tasting room at Double Loop Vineyards is a large, tastefully decorated space that looks like it was converted from an old barn. It’s all dark wood and ceiling beams, and a bar runs along the back and right side walls. When you and Jack step inside, you’re greeted by a tall young woman with a pixie haircut and striking cheekbones. She’s wearing a name tag that reads Eva.

You settle in front of her at the bar and she pulls out a pair of glasses and pours a splash of white into each to get you started. You take a sip and peruse the small menu on the bartop.

“She’ll have the red flight,” Jack says, “And I’ll just have a glass. Can you recommend me something… full-bodied?”

As he says it he palms your hip suggestively, pulling you to him a little closer. You laugh, mortified but amused despite yourself, and he shoots you a wink.

Eva takes it in stride. “I can offer you a cabernet sauvignon that’s got legs for days.”

“That’ll do me just fine, thank you.”

You’re the only visitors in the tasting room for the moment so you have her undivided attention. She’s skilled at making small talk to keep you charmed and at ease; eventually she asks something more personal.

“So I’m planning to propose to my girlfriend soon,” she tells you. “And I’m trying to figure out how to do it. I’m like crowdsourcing ideas. You two are such a cute couple—can I ask how you got engaged?”

You and Jack exchange a glance and you give him a sweet smile. “You tell it, honey.”

“Well,” he says, keeping his eyes on you for a long moment before he finally looks away to face Eva, “I knew I wanted to marry her, and I had this whole plan in mind. I wanted something special for my Violet so I was going to take her on a trip—my buddy has this little cabin on the most beautiful lake you’ve ever seen—and make her favorite dinner, and sit down with a glass of something nice. And then I was going to present her with this beautiful piece of hand-carved wood that spelled out, Will. You. Marry. Me.”

He pauses to take a sip of his cab while Eva says, “Aww,” and looks at you like, what a sweet partner you have.

“Now the thing is,” he continues, warming up to the story, “as Violet can tell you herself, I have never carved a single thing in my life. And somehow, like a dumbass, I was convinced I could make this plaque and do it perfectly. But it looked just awful. And it was taking me so long trying to get it right I could tell she was starting to wonder if I was stringing her along.”

You shake your head in protest and he laughs. “You were! You’d look at me like, why has this fool not married me yet.”

Eva laughs, too. “So what happened?”

Jack lets out an aggrieved sigh. “What happened was, I caught the flu. Just the most dog-sick, pathetic man, all sweaty with fever and miserable to boot. And Violet never hesitated, she bundled me up and cooked me soup and tolerated my whining and she’d read me to sleep when my eyes couldn’t even focus on the TV. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I thought, I need to hold on to this woman forever, and I asked her right then and there.”

His voice cracks a little on the last sentence and you’re shocked to realize your own eyes are damp with tears. You’re not sure which part, or how much, but something in that story sounded true and it’s left you with a strange sense of heartache. You lift his hand to your mouth and press a kiss across his knuckles, watching his face soften.

“Okay,” Eva says. “So I guess I’ll add ‘get the flu’ to my list of ideas.”

“I don’t recommend it,” Jack tells her, “but I don’t not recommend it.”

As you finish your flight and Eva rings up a couple of bottles you’ve chosen to purchase—you’re not sure if these classify as company expenses, but you enjoyed them enough you’ll pay out of pocket if you must—she asks where else in the wine country you’ve been to so far.

“We spent some time at the winery right next to the place we’re staying—actually, we got to meet the owner there, what was his name, baby?”

You keep your tone casual, but you watch her face as you reply. “Bill Peterson, I think it was?”

Eva’s expression falters, just for a moment, before she recovers and plasters on a polite smile. “They’ve got a great pinot noir over there.”

“Not as good as these,” you tell her, just to see her smile turn genuine.

A tour group walks in just then so you take your leave and step outside into the late afternoon sunshine. When Jack takes your hand this time you let him, and you don’t mind it.

The blue truck is parked out back. You walk along the side of the building, just a pair of happy tourists slightly buzzed on red wine out to take in the view, until you get close enough to make note of the license plate. Back in your own car, you run a search on it and identify the owner: a young man named Lucas Trent. The address on the registration is in Paso Robles, a town 250 miles south of here, but you do some digging and find he’s a vineyard worker at Double Loop.

“So what’s the connection to Peterson?” Jack wonders.

“Look at this.” You point at the screen and he squints. “He’s only been at Double Loop for six months. Before that—”

“He worked for Peterson,” Jack finishes. “So he’s mad about getting fired and wants to get back at his old boss.”

“Maybe,” you say, frowning. “We don’t really know yet. But it’s a theory.”

“It’s a good theory,” he insists.

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, mulling it over.

“Tell me this, rookie,” he says. “You ever been on a stakeout?”

On your first ever stakeout that evening, you quickly learn a few things:

Stakeouts are cold. Stakeouts are boring. And rental cars are not designed to accommodate them.

You shift uncomfortably for the fifth time in twenty minutes.

“How do we even know he’ll show up tonight?” you ask. In the quiet of the night you keep your voice hushed.

“Call it intuition,” Jack says. You can tell he hates sitting still this long, too, but he’s clearly built up a tolerance for it over the years, because he’s not wriggling around nearly as much as you.

“Can I ask you something?”

He grunts an assent.

“That story about how you proposed—how did you come up with that?”

He pauses.

“I just—made it up,” he says.

“I thought it seemed…” you start. He gives you a sidelong glance. “Never mind. You’re a good improviser.”

After a minute, he says, “I was engaged once. A long time ago.”

“Oh.” You bite your cheek, holding back your questions.

“She died,” he adds. Your heart drops.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course,” you say, helplessly.

Never in your life have you been more grateful to see a criminal approaching than when you see the familiar shape of Lucas Trent’s blue truck appear down the road.

“Ha,” Jack says, looking a little less glum. “What’d I tell you. Intuition never fails me.”

You take deep, silent breaths, trying to control your fast-beating heart as you creep behind Jack to follow Lucas inside the building. He’s got a key to Peterson’s winery; he must have stolen it before he left the job, you think. He heads down the hall, past Peterson’s office, and disappears behind a door.

Jack motions for you to wait a moment, listening intently outside the door. You hear nothing but the quiet thump of Lucas’s footsteps, growing fainter until there’s only silence, and finally Jack eases open the door. You’re faced with a short flight of stairs heading down into a cellar. The two of you tiptoe down the stairs.

You nearly bump into Jack at the bottom when he stops dead in his tracks, still hidden in the shadows. Peering around him, you see that Lucas isn’t alone in the room. Bill Peterson is here, too, standing next to a small wooden desk.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bill demands. Lucas stares at him sullenly. “You came here to steal from me, didn’t you? You didn’t think I’d be down here.”

“I just want what’s mine,” the young man growls. “You’re the thief, not me.”

Lucas steps further into the room, toward the back wall. The space is filled with racks of carefully preserved wine bottles—Peterson’s precious collection, you register—and a pile of empty wooden barrels, stacked two high.

“Those bottles are insured,” Peterson calls after him. “You’ll get caught if you try to sell them.”

Lucas says nothing, just continues walking until he reaches the wall. At the back of the cellar, he pushes aside a tapestry to reveal a combination safe embedded in the wall. He glances over his shoulder with a smirk, and punches in the code.

“How the fuck do you know that number?” Peterson roars, finally scared. He rushes past the racks of wine, suddenly worthless compared to whatever is on the flash drive Lucas has just retrieved from the safe. When they start to tussle over it, Jack finally steps in.

“Hey!” he yells, striding into the light. The men look over, startled, and then Peterson looks relieved. He lets go of Lucas, seemingly confident that his hired security will take care of the situation, and retreats to stand next to Jack.

“Get that back from him,” he tells him. Jack gives him a long, unimpressed look, and then turns his focus on Lucas, who’s starting to look slightly panicky now that he’s outnumbered.

“Listen, son. This will all go a lot easier if you just put that back where you found it and walk out of here with me.”

“You don’t understand,” Lucas protests. “He’s stealing from everyone. This is the proof.”

Peterson shifts on his feet, looking guilty. “Bullshit,” he says. “You resent me for being the boss, but I’ve worked for every penny I’ve got.”

Lucas lets out a humorless, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, you work real hard. You must break a sweat making copies of your accounts so you can lie about the numbers. I bet you have blisters on your hands from shortchanging your workers.”

Jack makes a mistake here—he takes his eyes off the suspect to look at Mr. Peterson in a new light, trying to gauge which of them is telling the truth. And in that split second, to your horror, Lucas hurtles forward and shoves the stacked wine barrels, hard, knocking both Jack and Peterson onto the ground.

You make a mistake, too, and he gets on your case about it afterwards. You let Lucas slip past you in your rush to reach Jack’s side. He looks dazed and angry and his legs are trapped under the hundred-pound barrel. Gathering your strength, you lift it off of him and set it upright, then fall to your knees to check him over.

“Jack! Are you alright?” You feel carefully along his legs, then gently at the back of his head, running your fingers over his scalp to check for bumps or bleeding.

“I’m okay,” he mutters. “I didn’t hit my head.” But he winces as you help him up, and he’s moving a little gingerly when he takes a step. “Might’ve tweaked my ankle,” he admits.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Peterson yells. “You let that little shit get away with my property.”

“Let me ask you this, Mr. Peterson,” Jack growls. “Was it true what he said, about the double accounts?”

“I don’t see how that matters,” he insists angrily. “I hired you to do a job, and I expected a lot better.”

“I’ll tell you why it matters,” Jack tells him. “I don’t work for people who lie to me. Consider the contract dissolved. You can get your ‘property’ back on your own.”

“Actually, you got lucky, Mr. Peterson,” you call back over your shoulder as you help Jack walk over to the stairs. “If we had gotten our hands on that drive, we would have been obligated to turn it over to the IRS. Statesman has connections in the government, too, you know.”

And with that, you leave him sputtering and pale, alone with his precious wine.

It’s 3 AM when you get back to the room. Jack’s ankle isn’t broken, just twisted. You’d made him wait in the car while you stopped at a 24-hour convenience store to get ice on the way, so now you get him tucked into bed with his foot elevated and a baggie of ice draped over his ankle. He’s clearly still peeved over how things went down with Peterson, but he also looks amused watching you play nursemaid for him.

“You know, I’ve been hurt a hell of a lot worse than this before,” he tells you. “I can take care of myself.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “Getting badly injured isn’t the brag you think it is,” you counter. “And… you shouldn’t have to take care of it alone. That’s what I’m here for. I know you think I’m just a rookie, but—for this job, we’re partners, right?”

He’s silent for a beat, but then he nods.

Jack is still awake and waiting for you when you return from the bathroom in your pajamas. As you climb into your side of the bed, he says, “I don’t think you’re just a rookie. You did a good job on this case.”

The room is dark but there’s moonlight streaming in through the window, casting a beam of light across his face on the pillow. He’s looking at you. You look back.

“Thank you,” you tell him finally.

“Thanks for the ice,” he returns. He lets out a sigh as his eyes drift shut, and as you follow suit you feel his hand reach out and intertwine with yours.

“G’night, Violet,” he murmurs.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

He laughs, and you grin in the dark, and you hold on tight.

[jungkoode]

hey, i saw that you wrote a gang au, I don't read jk x reader, but i was wondering how do you headcanons BTS members in mafia roles ?? I know there's some popular works and hcs out there with different systems and stuff and IM A SUCKER for mafia/mob/gang AUs. I am personally a fan of any Yoongi who drinks old expensive whiskey and (acts like a seasoned gang grandpa for some reason), any Hoseok where we get to see his cold, hardworking, deathly precise side, and for some reason there is always at least a couple of members who are adrenaline junkies over their jobs which I find exhilirating. Would you mind sharing how you portrayed or imagined the members present in your AU ( if it doesnt spoil lmao) ? Or in an alternate gang au you thought about or liked how you like them.

OH MY GOD ROO HI!!! tackles you I can't believe you're here asking about my headcanons (｡♥‿♥｡) Let me ramble about this for a hot sec because BOY do I have Thoughts™ about gang AUs.

First of all, HARD AGREE about Yoongi as the seasoned gang grandpa drinking expensive whiskey. In my AU, AD (Yoongi) is this absolutely BRILLIANT but also completely FERAL tech genius who lives in his "gamer cave" and basically runs the entire cyber division while being permanently sleep-deprived and running on energy drinks. Like, imagine the most unhinged version of a genius hacker who's also grumpy as hell but secretly super loyal. He's got this whole winter morning aura thing going on - cool and crisp and absolutely Done™ with everyone's bs.

AND YES about Hobi!!! In my AU, J-Hope is the Chief Medical Officer and he's basically this cranky doctor who's actually super caring but shows it by being a complete tsundere about it (*￣▽￣)b Like, he'll patch you up while cursing you out for being reckless. His relationship with AD is *chef's kiss* - these two grumpy cats who somehow became friends and now they're stuck with each other.

For Jungkook (Jeon in the AU), I went HARD on the emotional constipation route. He's the Chief of Tactical Assassinations (fancy way of saying he's a sniper) and BOY does this man have Issues™. Like, imagine the most touch-starved, perfectionist, "I-have-walls-higher-than-the-Great-Wall-of-China" assassin, and that's him. His aura is literally a HURRICANE. A WHOLE ASS STORM. I'm not even kidding.

V (Tae) is… well, let's just say he's the type to smile while stabbing you and then ask why you're bleeding on his favorite knife. Chief of Stealth Assassinations with an aura of thorned roses - pretty but will absolutely destroy you. He's got this whole "playful psychopath" vibe going on and may or may not be slightly unhinged. Okay, majorly unhinged. I REGRET NOTHING.

Jimin (JM) is our Financial Operations king who looks soft and acts soft but will absolutely destroy you with a spreadsheet. Man's got an aura like a calm lake - peaceful on the surface but WHO KNOWS what's lurking in those depths. Probably your tax fraud receipts.

RM is just… chef's kiss Supreme Commander with a whole oak tree aura. Like, imagine the most competent leader who's also carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and making it look GOOD.

And Moon (Jin)? Deputy Commander with this clear night sky aura that just RADIATES calm authority. He's got all these secrets and somehow manages to handle both RM's intensity and the chaos of the entire gang while looking like he just stepped out of a magazine. It's unfair, honestly. The man could probably tell you he's about to end your whole career and you'd thank him.

Now, let me YELL about my queens for a sec because THE WOMEN IN THIS AU??? ABSOLUTELY ICONIC.

Flower (Chaewon) is the Chief of Seduction and she's got this black widow aura that just SCREAMS "I will eat you alive and you'll thank me." She runs her division like a protective mama bear but will absolutely destroy any man who looks at her girls wrong. She's part of this iconic trio with Jessi and JM, and their friendship is everything.

Speaking of Jessi - Chief of Procurement and Weapons with an aura like a BLAZING FIRE. She's the type to walk into a room and everyone just KNOWS she's in charge. Takes absolutely zero bs from anyone and somehow manages to keep the entire gang supplied while also being the most intimidating person ever??? She's got this "I could kill you with my heels and look fabulous doing it" energy and I'm HERE for it.

Also can we talk about how in EVERY gang AU there's always that One Character who's way too excited about crime? In mine it's probably V, but like, in a unhinged way rather than a fun way (／。＼)

P.S.: If you ever want to read it despite it being JK x Reader, just pretend Y/N is an extremely chaotic gremlin who doesn't take anyone's bs and somehow ended up in this mess. Because that's literally what she is lmao.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

[pruesgaultier]

We Might Even Be Falling In Love

“And it feels like

I’m gonna know you for the rest of my life

It’s safe to say that we might even be falling in love.”

We Might Even Be Falling in Love (interlude) — Victoria Monet

also on ao3

part 1 of ?

Clarissa Dovey and Leonora Lesso are two names you see together often. Whether it’s playing a couple in movies such as Mrs and Mrs Smith and Long Shot or most recently, playing a couple in the hit tv show Scandal. Their characters Savannah Washington and Victoria Theron, dubbed Therington by fans, have decided to let all those feelings blossom into something more.

However, in even bigger news, the two actresses have revealed they’re dating and have been for the past 6 years. I sat down with them to hear all about how Dovesso and Therington came to be.

It’s a breezy fall afternoon when I knock on their door. I’m greeted by Clarissa Dovey wearing a yellow long sleeve with red detailing and a brown belt around her waist matching the brown skirt she was wearing. Her normally blonde hair was now black and pulled away from her face, which had a warm smile on it.

“Hi, come in, come in.” She greets opening the door wider for me and the crew I have with me. She leads us over to the living room and makes sure to greet every crew member individually with a smile, making sure to learn their names and jobs before asking if we want anything. We’ve all heard rumors about how sweet she can be to the crew members of the projects she works on, but to see it in action is surreal. There’s a noise from upstairs followed by a thud and giggling. “You’ll have to ignore all the chaos, Nora and the girls like to play around.” She shakes her head, but there’s an endearing smile on her face.

Footsteps cause everyone's heads to turn as a newly blonde Leonora Lesso comes down the stairs in a dark blue hoodie and a darker blue silk skirt. The most surprising part of her appearance is the children, one in her arms and another on her back. “Princess, please get Aggie, Sophie refuses to be put down.” I watch as Clarissa grabs the child off of Leonora’s back. “Come here, little one.” she says softly while grabbing her.

We all get settled in the living room and prepare to begin. “I bet you have so many more questions.” Leonora says mischievously and I nod, speechless.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

CD: So, do you want to start with our relationship, Scandal, or the children?” The bluntness of her question surprises me, however I quickly recover.

RM: Let's start with your relationship. You met on the set of Mrs and Mrs Smith, what was that like?

LL: There was an instant connection. We did a chemistry read that day and just clicked. She was wearing this yellow dress and I just instantly thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

A blush covered Clarissa’s face before speaking.

CD: Nora stop. Anyway, I had gotten there early and when I saw her walk in, I was stunned. Not only by her beauty, but also by the fact that I felt so comfortable with her and we had just met.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴

2010; The Meeting; undisclosed location

Clarissa Dovey sits on set at her chemistry read waiting for her potential co-star Leonora Lesso. She had heard of the woman, but never met her in person. Many people had good things to say about her, so Clarissa hopes her reputation precedes her. The blonde turned her attention back to the script in front of her with intrigue. The movie is a lesbian action-comedy movie where she and her co-star will play a married couple who are spies, but they don’t know that. Her character is Jasmine Smith, a ‘senior accountant manager’ at an accountant firm. She takes another sip of her tea while reading the script when the door opens.

Leonora Lesso, who prefers to be called Leo, walks onto set script and coffee in hand. She had read the script front to back and she was very interested in her character of Jane Smith, a ‘tech consultant’. She was badass and had a team of women working with her which made Leo love the character more. Clarissa Dovey was a name she had heard, but never got to really know, but Leo could work with anyone…within reason.

As she walked further into the room, she made eye contact with a blonde woman and physically stopped in her tracks. She’s gorgeous. Leo thought to herself. The yellow of her sundress complimented her skin beautifully and her blonde curls framed her face nicely. Leonora watched the blonde blush under her gaze and she realized she was staring at the other woman. She had heard many things about Clarissa Dovey, but no one had told her how beautiful she was.

Clarissa’s first thought about Leonora Lesso was that she was tall, she easily towers over herself with or without heels. Her next thought was that she was stunning. The black pants fit her perfectly and the white tank accentuated her arms which Clarissa definitely wasn't staring at and her red hair was such a gorgeous color.

“Hi.” Clarissa greeted, standing up and meeting the other woman halfway. “Hi.” Leo said back, before reaching out to shake her hand. The second their hands touched, the women felt a spark. Green met brown and it felt like the entire world disappeared. The women jumped apart when they heard a door open and the director walked in.

“You two have met, great.” Doug the director said, walking closer to them. “Now, I want you to stand on the X and do one of the scenes from Jane and Jasmine’s first meeting. Remember, let the scene guide you, but make it your own. Do whatever feels natural.Focus on each other.”

They put everything down except their scripts and sat in the chairs, standing in close proximity as they’re supposed to be close to one another.

INT. JANE’S BED – NIGHT

(Jasmine)

I can feel you heart racing

Clarissa places her hand on Leonora’s chest, looking deep into her eyes.

(Jane)

I don’t want it to slow down.

Leonora places her hand on top of Clarissa’s.

(Jasmine)

Stick with me, it’s not gonna

(Jane)

Promise?

Leonora reached her hand to cup Clarissa’s cheek, caressing it gently.

(Jasmine)

Cross my heart.

Clarissa smiles.

(Jasmine pulls Jane closer, the two leaning in before the screen cuts to the next one)

“Good, good.” Doug says, interrupting them. Once again, Clarissa and Leonora have to snap out of their own world. “I knew you two would be perfect for the role.” He says, smiling. “The natural chemistry you two have is perfect. I’ll email you your schedules and everything else. Have a nice day ladies!’ With that, he left the room, excited about how big this movie was going to be.

Clarissa and Leo were still reeling from the scene. Never had a scene felt so natural with another person nor an attraction so intense. It was unnerving to both of them to say the least. “Um,” Clarissa started, still feeling the effects of the intense scene. “Would you like to go out to lunch with me? Get to know each other better?” The blonde’s voice was shy. The redhead was stunned, but eager to get to know the other woman better. “Of course. Meet me outside in 5?” Leonora agreed. “Yeah, I’ll be out soon.” Clarissa said before turning away.

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“So,” Clarissa started, “if you could travel anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?” Leonora’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the unusual conversation starter, but decided to indulge the blonde. “Maybe Italy or Greece. What about you?” “Costa Rica or Aruba, somewhere tropical and sunny.” Clarissa replied.

“Why the weird question?” Leonora asked curiously. “Because, I hate the small talk and getting to know you questions. They’re so boring and unoriginal, I want to know the little things; what you hate, your second favorite color, your favorite movie you watched and that you’ve been in. I wanna know the real you.” Clarissa expressed with enthusiasm and Leonora thinks she might have just fell a little in love with the woman across from her.

“I never thought of that.” the redhead said, intrigued. “If you could completely get rid of one month out of the year, which would it be and why?” The blonde tapped her index finger against her chin while she was thinking of her answer and Leonora thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever seen. I’m fuckedddddd. she thought to herself.

“July or August because they both have 31 days and mess up the flow between the months with 31 days and the months without.” Leonora faked offense, “Well, you can’t get rid of August because my birthday is in August.” Clarissa rolled her eyes playfully, “I guess August can stay.” she said with a smirk.

The two of them sat in the corner of the restaurant completely enthralled with each other for hours just talking and laughing, as if they were old friends. It was truly the start of a beautiful friendship and maybe, something more.

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[seoulciology]

an external analysis of the basic sociological state of south korea

i thought it would be useful to break down the basic things i’ve learnt from externally analysing south korea through the media and observing the opinions of both korean and non-korean sources. this is a pretty good place to start if you’re new to my blog lol.

chapter 1: economic system

south korea is an asian country that is undoubtedly capitalistic. it prides itself in building a large industry and competitive work culture. plus, being capitalist is part of its political identity as the antithesis of north korea. this originates in the cold war conflict because of it allying with the usa.

i have heard some people argue it is in late-stage capitalism. according to the creator of this term, ernest mandel, this would mean commodification (human services are turned into products), possibly seen in the exploitation of k-pop idols, tech office workers and even students.

chapter 2: its treatment of minorities

upon beginning to write this is i found there is so much detail to discuss, so i’ll summarise and make a larger post in the future. i would argue that although legally women have equal rights, they struggle disproportionately both socially and in the justice system. foreigners, especially in tourist areas, seem to be generally well received if they are respectful. north koreans tend to suffer ostracism. although the country is conservative and continues this way of thinking in its treatment of the lgbt+ community, i would like to believe that in places especially with more young adults, koreans are moving towards acceptance.

chapter 3: social pattern or worldview

south korea is definitely collectivist in my opinion. although their work culture and industrialisation is moving them towards individualism, especially in large cities, there still seems to be a collectivist way of thinking particularly because of the specific and highly sought beauty standard. according to hofstede’s globe, they stand at a 17-23 (with 0 being collectivist and 100 being individualist).

chapter 4: the beauty standard

the korean beauty standard, as is shown in the video i’ve spoken about previously about east asia and plastic surgery, mostly revolves around the face. features include: a v-shaped jaw, high nose bridge, double eyelids and aegyo sal. clear skin is also prominent. these are often achieved with plastic surgery, not because of “vainness” or a desire to be liked, but because the collectivist culture makes it so people who fit the beauty standard are more likely to succeed in all areas of their life. some statistics suggest 1 in 3 women in korea have undergone plastic surgery.

bodies are also extremely emphasised in korea, with someone skinny being the ideal beauty standard. still, this does not reflect on their plastic surgery statistics to be a common procedure, making me assume that they simply diet. they also talk about “90 degree shoulders”, that can sometimes be achieved with certain cosmetic procedures like hyaluronic acid injections on the shoulders.

chapter 5: work culture

as hinted in the analysis of it being in late stage capitalism, korea does seem to have an unusual work culture. this includes pressure to work unpaid overtime and 회식 or “hoesik” culture which implies going out with your boss and coworkers to drink alcohol. this is regarded as an uncomfortable experience for many workers. still, acknowledging korean opinions, according to rm of bts, this strict work culture is one of the pillars that supported the rapid industrialisation of korea.

conclusion

korea is a country that sociologically stands between the stereotypical west (late stage capitalism, increasing globalisation) and the stereotypical image of east asia (collectivist and traditional) making it fascinating to study as a society.