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httphopewrld · 3 years

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I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

Taglist: @kirbykook @kleritata @taestannie @jenotation @hemmos-obrien @zeharilisharaban @speed-of-wind @kawaisoraya

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“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time. Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jhope bts #jhopoe fanfic #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope angst #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #ficswithluv #houseofddaeng #hobiuary2021 #hodevent

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angstsfordays · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Pain (1)

Chapter One- A post-Blip world

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Post-Blip, you find yourself more alone than ever as old friends are forever gone. You and Bucky struggle with finding life's purpose while trying to move on.

Warnings: Angst. A lot of guilt and self-blaming. Spoiler for ep 1 if you haven't seen it!

Word count: 2.4k

Notes: Here's the first chapter of the series! Check out the prologue if you have not done so! It gives you an insight into the OC's background and history with Bucky before TFATWS.

Hope you enjoy this read!

Opening up a tag list for the first time since I have gotten a request! Message or comment to let me know!

Leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! 🥰

Previous: Prologue | Next: Chapter Two |

-------------------------//---------------------------

Present-day

Bucky felt his heart stopped for a moment when he realised what he was about to do to the terrified man from his dreams. Before he could imagine the next scene, his eyes flew wide open and he immediately sat up.

Assessing his surroundings to see that the television was still on, he realised he was home and have woken up from a nightmare. Even though Hydra’s brainwashing has been removed, the memories from his dark past continued to plague him.

The summer blanket you got for him pooled around his waist, his right hand reached out to give it a soft squeeze. The soft texture of the fabric comforted him emotionally as he sat on the cold hard floor. As he regained steady breathing, he looked around to see that it was still the early hours of the night.

He reached out for his flip phone- the one you couldn’t believe he insisted to buy over a regular smartphone. Pressing the buttons, he went to his inbox to see an unread message from you. Bucky contemplated opening it but decided to continue when he decided he wanted to hear from you.

Ever since the blip occurred, the days and weeks seemed to be a blur. Sooner than he realised, six months had just passed like that.

When Steve decided to go back to the past for good, all three of you including Sam were at a sudden loss. Bucky was disappointed but not surprised at Steve’s decision. Sam wanted the best for Steve and showed his support.

However, you were the most affected out of the group. He knew that despite putting a brave front, you were struggling with the loss of your friends in a short span of time. After all, you had spent a good amount of time with the Avengers and had a developed a close relationship with most of the team.

Bucky remembered how you immediately slumped to the floor when you heard the news about Natasha. You were at a loss of words before you started to break down when Steve went to comfort you. You always regarded Natasha as an older sister so her death hit you hard.

He recalled how you held back your tears at Tony’s funeral as you did not want to further bring down the atmosphere when Pepper and Morgan were there. He remembered how Tony was like an annoying but endearing older brother.

When Steve was disappeared from his spot, you didn’t think much of it thinking he would return in a matter of seconds after returning the stones. However, when all three of you looked to see an ageing Steve, you were the first to run up to him. Despite the astonishing expression that painted your face, you reached out to hold Steve’s hands to check if he was real.

Steve’s decision to pass Sam the shield was no surprise to Bucky. Even though Bucky found Sam irritating at times, Bucky knew he was a good man.

While you chose to accept Steve’s choice, it started to sink into your mind that the people once closest to you were gone or getting further. Bucky remembered how you were reluctant to let Steve walk away and Steve let you hold onto him longer.

You and Bucky decided to not let each other be alone that night. You two figured that at least you had each other and you wanted to cherish that.

-------------------—---//----------------------------

Moving forward, Sam had decided to find work with the U.S air force. Sam checked in on Bucky from time to time but Bucky contemplated to respond. After being pardoned for his past, Bucky found himself compensated but he still felt like a prisoner.

He was required to attend court-mandated therapy sessions to make sure he was doing well. You know that it was just a way for the government to have him under surveillance and in check.

He might be the oldest prisoner of war but he was still a super soldier and one with a vibranium arm. Bucky knew he was still deemed as dangerous in their eyes.

When you and Bucky discussed how to move forward, he confided that he wanted to make amends and you showed your support. When he asked about you, you seemed hesitant and a little lost for an answer.

The Avengers are gone. There was no more S.H.I.E.L.D.

Who were you now? What are you fighting for? What is going to be your purpose moving forward? These were all the questions swimming in your head.

You were reluctant to tell Bucky yet but a government official had paid you a visit while you were waiting for Bucky to finish his therapy session.

You were offered a position in a task force to maintain global security in light of a post-blip world. Given your abilities, you were viewed as an invaluable asset. However, you knew better than to take their words for it.

Revealing your hesitance, the official took a harder approach and laid out the truth. You were viewed as a potential threat if you were to not co-operate with the government. You are an unsupervised enhanced individual that is roaming freely. They do not want to allow that in the event that you were to do anything out of your own jurisdiction.

It was the Sokovia Accords all over again, you thought. The official added that you no longer had the Avengers team to fall back on. His words only added to the ache in your heart as you were reminded of your lost friends.

Additionally, he let off that Wanda had been involved in an event that caused the government to review their management of enhanced individuals in the country. Wanda was out of their reach but you were still around. They knew that you have been sticking by Bucky and thus decided to come for you.

Remembering Steve's words from the times of the civil war between the Avengers, you were not able to let yourself trust any words that the official said.

You didn’t want to let yourself be controlled especially by the government whom you knew had hidden agendas that they would not reveal to you. Their words of praises of how you would be a great addition made you felt like you would be nothing more than a tool in their master plans.

“What if I refuse?” You spoke to the official. The official's eyes hardened and his jaw clenched.

“Then Ms L/N, we will have to view you as a threat to national and global security.” You scoffed at his words when you stared dead into his eyes.

“You forgot that I was one of the many to help fight Thanos and brought the world back. This is how you decided to treat me after giving my service to this country? To this world?” You shot back in distaste.

You turned your back on the guy and walked off without giving him a chance to answer.

--------------------------//--------------------------

Hey Buck, I managed to find Wanda and decided to accompany her for a bit. She needs someone now.

I will let you know when I am back.

Don’t miss me too much ok! ;)

Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face at your last sentence. He missed you but he knew that you had things to attend to. He understood how much you valued your remaining friends. Wanda, being one of them.

-----------------—-----//---------------------———

Bucky sighed when he realised that he was not going to get away easy with today’s therapy session. Dr Raynor was really trying to push his buttons and even took out her darn notebook again.

That ticked Bucky off the most and he reluctantly gave in. He began to share about how he crossed another name on his list of amends. Dr Raynor then gave her opinion about how even making amends wasn’t able to help with his nightmares.

Bucky continued to deny that he had any at all but he knew Dr Raynor was not convinced. Glimpsing down briefly with an unconvinced look, Dr Raynor looked back up to Bucky.

“Look. One day, you’re gonna have to open up and understand that some people really do want to help you and that they can be trusted.”

“I trust people.” Not all but maybe just one. Only one person came to his immediate thought.

“Yeah, give me your phone.” Dr Raynor put aside her notebook before reaching over to take Bucky’s phone from him. As she searched up his contact list, she remarked that there wasn’t even ten numbers in it.

“Oh, and you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships.” She spoke before noting that she was the only person Bucky called all week and how sad it was.

Dr Raynor was going to continue before she stopped herself. She opened up the chat with your name and read your last message to Bucky.

“What about Y/N?”

“What about her?” Bucky retorted.

“Seems like she’s someone you are close to?” Dr Raynor tried to imply something.

“She’s a friend,” Bucky answered firmly. Dr Raynor gave Bucky a glance before probing further. “I’ve seen her around before when she accompanied you at the beginning of your session. She seems nice.”

“She is,” Bucky answered curtly once more before deciding to shoot back, knowing his therapist was trying to probe more than he was willing to share. “What are you insinuating, doc?”

“Nothing. I am glad you at least have one friend. But you need to make more connections with other people.” Dr Raynor tried explaining. Bucky drifted off in his thoughts for a moment, thinking about how he didn’t need more people. He was fine with just you but he didn’t want to let on more than he wanted to.

He didn’t feel the need to explain about his relationship with you when you knew you two were solid. Bucky sighed internally when his therapist asked him what he wanted. Bucky thought of the calm and peace he had in Wakanda, his mind replaying the moments of you and him living a carefree life on the farm.

When he was told that he was finally free, he questioned “to do what?”. Was he ever truly free? The memories from his past, the long list of amends he had in his notebook. Could he ever truly be free from the guilt that constantly plagues him?

As Bucky made his way back to his apartment, he spotted his neighbour, Yori arguing with another neighbour, Unique over the trash. He reassured that he could take care of Yori to this Unique fellow before catching up with the grumbling old man in the alley.

Bucky convinced him that he would give a treat at their usual sushi place and that managed to pacify Yori’s mood.

-------------—-----——//---------------------——

When they were at Izzy’s, Yori mentioned how no one made it past 90 years in the obituary of the newspaper. The familiar waitress came up to the two and remarked if they were feeling adventurous since they did not order the usual.

Giving him a slight smirk, Yori suggested that Bucky should ask her out. Bucky immediately shook his head and gave Yori a bewildered look like he was crazy.

“Why not? Are you seeing that pretty friend of yours that always come to visit?” Bucky knew Yori was referring to you and immediately tried to refute the notion.

“Y/N’s just a friend.”

“Could have convinced me otherwise. You two seem really close.” Yori scoffed at Bucky’s statement.

“Such a pity. If I were 50 years younger, I would have made a move already.” Bucky chuckled at how Yori, despite being a grumpy senior most of the times, actually tried to make a witty joke. He silently agreed that you were indeed a catch and how it was crazy you have not been with anyone.

Well then again, you have always been with him all this while. Of course, as a friend, Bucky tried to convince himself that there was no way he would have a shot with you. You were too good for him and you definitely deserved someone better.

Even though he tried to convince himself, Bucky does not know what to do if you had managed to find someone and will eventually leave him to be on his own. He shook himself out of his inner thoughts and before he knew it, Yori spoke to the waitress.

“He would like to take you out on a date.” Bucky’s eyes shot wide open when he realised what Yori had actually done. Bucky tried to apologise on behalf of Yori for his bizarre behaviour but the waitress did not seem to mind. In fact, she was game and agreed.

After she went off to attend to other customers, Bucky shook his head and couldn’t believe Yori actually became his wingman. Yori then suddenly went silent for a moment. Bucky was nervous before hearing how Yori spoke of his beloved son who had passed away due to an incident.

Bucky listened intently with the guilt gnawing in his gut, his heart heavy with all of the weight of the world.

------———------------//------------------------—

Bucky convinced himself to go on the date with Leah. He decided to give himself the chance to make more connections as Dr Raynor had advised. The date was going well in fact. Leah seemed like a great gal but Bucky felt himself holding back.

There were just too many secrets he was holding in. What would she think if she knew who he really was? Would she even want to be in the same room as him then?

While he tried the whole online dating thing (much to your masked disappointment and amusement), he was not convinced if he could really make a romantic connection with anyone. Who was he kidding? Could he ever?

When the topic of conversation turned to Yori, the overwhelming sensation started to descend onto Bucky’s consciousness. Before he could stop, he immediately tapped out. Giving a pathetic excuse, Bucky rushed back to Yori’s apartment and had the urge to tell him the truth.

However, when he saw the altar that Yori had dedicated to his son, Bucky withdrew himself. He did not want to lose a friend in Yori even though he was dying to say the truth.

Bucky pretended to come up with an excuse to a confused Yori by paying his half of lunch before stalking off. When Bucky returned to his place, he opened up his notebook and stared at Yori’s name.

What was he to do?

A ring on his phone averted his intense thoughts and he reached for his phone.

Hey Buck, I am done on my side.

Would be back soon!

Can’t wait to see you again, missed you!

Bucky clutched his phone tighter and brought it close to his heart. He started counting down the hours till he could welcome you back in his arms.

-------------———----//------------------------——

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #thefalconandthewintersoldier #tfatws #marvel fanfiction #angstsfordays #beautiful pain

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sylvie--laufeydottir · 3 years

Text

an obligatory analysis of sylvie’s character (aka: who betrayed who?)

in case you can’t tell, i like sylvie. but here’s a big fuckin post where i share my thoughts on her role in the finale in a sort of disjointed kind of way.

NOTE: this isn’t about sylki. i don’t ship it personally, but that isn’t really relevant to this at all. this also doesn’t go into the criticisms i have of the show because this isn’t really the place for that. maybe i can do that later, whatever.

also, this is gonna be a long post. i have a lot of thoughts.

sylvie’s introduction and motivations

one of the first things we learn about sylvie is her opposition to the tva. (okay, it’s literally the first thing, whatever.) in episode 3, we get to see her entire plan - overthrow whoever’s running the tva, and... that’s it. loki questions her about the power vacuum that would leave, to which she shows that she’s not interested in running the tva. (this is also stated in ep 2.) her goals are clear. she wants rid of the entire organisation, and doesn’t care about or want the sort of power that would come with pulling the strings.

her reasoning for this seems pretty simple. she doesn’t want the power ruling the tva would entail because she knows what it’s like to be on the other end of that deal. she had everything taken from her as a child, and doesn’t want that to happen to anybody else. she believes that that kind of power belongs to nobody, not even herself.

this easily establishes her as a character who, despite having an ego, has principles that trump everything else. she’s very dedicated to her cause; the ‘never at the expense of the mission’ line in ep 3 just states it out loud. her entire life has been dedicated to this cause. this is a good time to segue into the next section...

sylvie’s personality, character and flaws

she’s fuckin stabby.

despite only really being present for 4 out of the 6 episodes of the show, we manage to get a pretty good idea of sylvie’s personality right from the start thanks to episode 3 being largely a character study with both her and loki. she’s shown as a very competent and strong character - however, contrary to marvel’s guidebook on writing female characters, those aren’t personality traits. what we actually see of her is that she’s very confident, and has a tendency to be rude or dismissive of other people. episode 3 has a bunch of examples of this, but the easiest one to point to is the fireworks scene. after loki does something nice to cheer her up, something which visibly works, her response is to waive it away as ‘not bad’.

her coldness in this scene even after bonding with loki is likely due to her upbringing. sylvie spent the majority of her life, including her childhood, on the run, unable to form relationships with people who weren’t moments away from dying. it feels a bit redundant for me to point this out, but this is, as they say in the medical field, mega fucking traumatic. not only did sylvie not have the opportunity to form these kinds of connections, she couldn’t even develop the ability to form them. loki is a bandaid to cover a bullet hole in this regard, one she needs years to heal from. while she does bond with him to an extent, she is physically unable to trust him to the point where they can be considered close.

another thing we learn about sylvie is that she’s very violent - and that she enjoys it. being a character that grew up running from an organisation that wanted her dead, it makes sense for her first instinct to be confrontational. however, despite having to fight to survive, she visibly takes pleasure from fighting. this was brought up in an interview with sophia (that i am not going to link here, because tumblr is kind of a hellsite and i’m not in the mood for that today). here’s a nice extract instead.

“She's not trained like Loki is,” Di Martino continues. “She can't do some of the flourishes that he would, but she's figured out how to brawl. She's a street fighter and she loves it. That was a really great key to unlocking part of Sylvie for me, was how much she just loves a fight. She knows that she's either going to win, or if she isn't going to win, she'll survive. She's that damaged character who's dangerous because she knows she can survive.”

her tendency towards violence is actually a key part of sylvie’s character. this works as both a strength and a flaw. on the one hand, she’s able to survive scrapes most other characters wouldn’t, and she knows that. she’s not one to freeze in most (note: most) scenarios, because she knows what to expect. on the other hand, violence isn’t always the answer, and she’s very unlikely to consider any other option than a fight.

her enchantment abilities tie into this - they’re another weapon for her to use, and one she’s not afraid to call on. however, her eagerness to enchant people without hesitation puts her in a pretty bad place morally. her enchantment clearly leaves hunter c-20 traumatised, and yet she’s more than willing to enchant people for the sake of the mission. she’s also relatively dismissive of human sentient lives. an early example of this is in episode 2, where loki asks her if the person she had enchanted was dead, to which she responds with a casual ‘they usually survive’. additionally, she’s more than willing to fight the guards on the train in episode 3, despite them seeing her as a threat for completely understandable reasons.

in the case of the guards, her reasoning for placing such little value on their lives is likely that they’re about to die anyways. everyone on lamentis is doomed, so from her point of view, whether they die at her hands or at the hands of the moon from majora’s mask isn’t really important. however, c-20 is a different story. sylvie places next to no value on the lives of the tva’s workers, content to slaughter them en masse for the sake of her goal. this is despite her knowing that every one of the tva workers is a variant plucked from the sacred timeline. this sets up a weird sort of transactional nature in how sylvie views other people - to her, they’re less important than the mission, and she doesn’t hesitate to eliminate threats.

was this a long section? this was a long section. i would like to call back to the fact that this is not a sylki post for this next part. and also to praise anyone that got this far, because fucking hell, is this excessively long or what? who would have the time to write this out?

sylvie’s bond with loki

i want to go back to that whole thing about her relationship with loki. he’s the first person she’s really spoken to since she was a child who isn’t about to face imminent death. furthermore, despite their differences, they have quite a lot in common - enough to hit it off surprising well for two people who kind of want to kill each other. they’re able to relate on common ground like frigga, and even though they clash due to loki’s initial carelessness, they’re overall able to get along well enough aside from occasional bickering. the blanket scene from episode 5 is probably the best example of this. sylvie allows herself, albeit briefly, to be vulnerable around loki.

except, not really. one of the first things she does is tries to ensure he won’t betray her. i’ve seen somebody cite this before as proof that her fondness towards him isn’t real, and that she was planning on betraying him from the start, hence why it was on her mind. that’s definitely possible, but i think it’s far more likely that it’s just her difficulties connecting to people stopping her from feeling safe around him even as they share a nice moment. she really does seem to care about loki - an easy example of this is her asking how he is during episode 4 without being prompted. she’s just unable to properly process these kinds of feelings due to an incomprehensible amount of trauma. as loki puts it, she can’t trust.

and loki can’t be trusted. she knows - or at least, thinks she knows - his nature as a trickster and a villain. loki embodies a part of sylvie that she considers herself completely separate from; the tva-approved liar whose purpose is to bring out the best in others. while she does show him more decency than to treat him like that, at the end of the day, he represents something that makes her deeply uncomfortable, hence her rejection of the loki name. despite what they have in common, loki is an incredibly difficult person to trust, especially for somebody who has deep-rooted trust issues. so, this brings us onto...

who betrayed who?

so, sylvie and loki make it to kang’s castle. after all this time, she’s finally about to reach her life’s goal. she’s clearly nervous - this is out of her comfort zone, unlike most fights. loki reassures her, and they head in. they meet kang, learn the true nature of the tva, have the opportunity to kill him...

and loki stops her.

loki’s motivations are left ambiguous. the uncharitable interpretation is that he wants to rule the tva for himself, as per kang’s offer. he’s expressed such an interest to sylvie before. for the loki we know in avengers 1, this seems perfectly in character.

however, for the loki we’ve seen in the show, there’s a different option. he believes kang’s threat that there are multiple of him, and that killing him won’t solve anything. to him, he isn’t willing to risk unknown horrors for the sake of taking his revenge out on kang. this is the loki who offered diplomacy and guile to counteract sylvie’s brute force.

but sylvie, who can’t trust, assumes the worst.

to her, loki was the one who betrayed her. they had a plan - find whoever pulls the strings, and destroy them. to her, loki’s hesitation isn’t caution, but treachery. taking kang’s offer to rule the tva is exactly what she thinks she should’ve expected from the guy who hurts everybody who loves him. her fight or flight responses kick in, and she chooses the one she always chooses. loki’s attempts to reassure her fall on deaf ears, not just because she doesn’t want to trust him, but because she’s physically incapable of it. she makes the short-sighted decision of brute force, just like she did back on lamentis, because it’s all she’s ever known, and the cause she’s dedicated her life to.

from the outside, it looks like sylvie was the one who betrayed loki, but things look pretty different from where she’s standing.

this is why i take issue with people calling sylvie a ‘villain’ or questioning whether this was her plan for the start. in my opinion, her motivations line up pretty clearly as a creature of habit, one who panics at the first hint of smoke and pushes away the first person she’s been able to bond with for the sake of self-preservation. did she make the wrong decision? unquestionably - the effects of her actions will no doubt plague the multiverse (and the mcu, for us) for as long as they go unchecked. but she made the only decision she was capable of making, and that’s not villainous, just tragic.

conclusion

well, this is a kind of depressing way to finish this post. for what it’s worth, though, i don’t think sylvie is a doomed character. regardless of how brief it was, she did show a real connection with loki. just because something requires a lot of healing doesn’t make it impossible. this is why i like sylvie as a character so much; she’s deeply flawed and complex, but that complexity makes her interesting, and relatable. marvel has a long history of sexy lamps and supposed ‘tortured backstories’, but sylvie is the first time they paid attention to this with their character writing without having to give somebody a wholeass prequel movie. with loki confirmed to appear in multiverse of madness, i’m hoping we see more of sylvie - not as a villain, but as a hero who can overcome her past experiences and rise to better things.

or maybe another kang shows up and kills her immediately. who knows.

#sylvie #sylvie laufeydottir #loki #loki theory #loki analysis #loki series #long post #like really fucking long #i’m so sorry for this #not a gif

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im-totally-not-an-alien · 4 years

Text

Final Fantasy prompts no 52

1. Cloud getting swarmed by orphans who proceed to put make up on him, Tifa, and Yuffie.

When they are "revealed" to eachother, Cloud asks, "Am I pretty?" With a blank face and monotone voice.

2. Clouds reaction to different people saying, "I have a crush on you"

That exact phrase. No other wording or phrases.

3. #2 but its everyone in AVALANCHE saying this to Cloud one at a time, once a day.

Example: Yuffie on Tuesday, Tifa on Wednesday, Barret on Thursday, etc.

This is because they were trying a misguided attempt at making Vincent comfortable enough to actually confess.

When Vincent does confess, however, Cloud doesn't believe him. Oops.

4. Palmer was being a prick again. Ever since the "Incident" in the conference room when they discovered Sephiroths...relationship...with laser pointers, Palmer had been sneaking them in and teasing the poor man with them.

Scarlett had been the most recent victim, having the small red dot travel across her breasts without her knowledge. When she noticed the general staring at her cleavage, a whole host of questions flittered threw her mind, the most prominent being, "Am I about to get laid?"

By the time she noticed the dot it was too late. Catboy pounced.

Her last thought before she was squished by hard muscle and leather was "Oh, no."

Later, there was a mysterious surge in people writing fanfiction about Sephiroth pouncing on people...

5. Cloud chunking a ceramic vase full of catnip grass at Sephiroths head and yelling, "Happy birthday, asshole!"

6. Yuffie often observed how cat-like Cloud was, and just never questioned it.

Years later when Tifa says something about it, Yuffie was like, "You guys never noticed? He's always been like that."

Additionally, Vincent trailing his fingers through Clouds hair as the blond rests his head in the gunman lap. All was well and good until Cloud began purring in his sleep.

He wasn't sure what to do with this information.

7. Time traveler Cloud lands in the Shinra building and immediately gets spotted. He fights his way down with First Tsurugi until he's confronted by a familiar mop of spikey blond hair.

He has a blond moment of, "Oh, that's me. Oh- I'm shooting at myself. Lovely." He then proceeded to kidnap his younger self, much to Zacks dismay.

Now Cloud has Zack, Sephiroth, and two people he doesn't know hunting him like a wild animal.

It doesn't help that his past self is uncooperative

8. Zack as the hero instead of Cloud.

They made it to Midgar, but Cloud remained in a coma at 7th heaven. There was even a big rescue scene where he woke up and saved Marlene when the plate fell. Everyone thinks they're dead, but they find refuge with Elmira after AVALANCHE leaves Midgar.

Zack being referred to as "puppy" by Sephiroth in the same way Cloud is referred to as "puppet"

Also, Zack with green cat eyes

9. A group of scientists working under a mysterious organization managed to obtain samples of Clouds DNA, thus managing to revive the SOLDIER program.

But they made a mistake.

Cloud was made using large amounts of S and J-cells. Cells that mutated and changed him. He feels the new SOLDIERs as they change, as they are reborn. He feels them as they come alive with his cells, senses them like blinking lights on a sonar. The pull of REUNION has never been this strong before, but strangely, the blond didn't feel drawn anywhere.

When he first saw them he knew. He knew immediately what had happened and what the scientists had done, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had babies and they needed him.

Needed their Mother

And so Gaia cries for another twisted hero

10. Someone from the Silver Elite writes romantic fanfiction of Sephiroth and Genesis and it starts a shipping war with people writing fanfiction about their favorite pairings.

A particularly...mature... piece of romantic high fantasy fanfiction involving himself and some blond named Cloud actually makes it to Sephiroth and he reads it.

He admittedly becomes curious of, "The pretty little fae" that has a solid hold on a significant amount of people in the Silver Elite.

Too bad the blond is avoiding him, like the plague and blushing as red as a beet the moment he sees him. He must have read something the fangirls made.

(Its funnier if you add time traveler AC Cloud but cuter if its CC Cloud. Idk which one I like better)

11. Angeal tries to teach CC Zack and Cloud how to build a bookshelf.

Cloud does pretty good, but Zack...actually, Angeal isn't sure what that is.

Zack called it art, so they were gonna go with that.

That's how they spent the rest of the evening, making wierd art that makes people stare in wonder and confusion.

12. Time travel shenanigans where Genesis's Jenova powers interfere with Clouds and now all the SOLDIERS that were in the Shinra tower with them when it happened have been turned into catboys.

It doesn't really change anything. It's still business as usual, just with a few extra appendages.

Angeal, who wasn't there at the time, has to muffle his laughter everytime he sees his friends.

It doesn't help that the company is pushing for Sephiroth to do a commercial showing off his new assets.

AC Cloud escaped and is on the run, but it's so much harder to blend in when you have cat ears on your head 24/7. Maybe he could wear a hat, but he wasn't sure what to do about the tail.

13. You remember that part in advent children where those monsters came out of the shadows that the remnants sent after Cloud?

Yeah, Cloud can do that. Not the, "summon eldrich monsters" thing, though he can probably do that too. I mean the "sinking into your own shadow to travel at high speeds/ through cracks in walls".

He finds this out by getting out of bed and falling into his shadow and slinking around like that until someone notices him.

He can't speak, so Barret and the others think the little shodow thing ate their blond friend or something.

Cloud is so frustrated and confused from being stuck in his shadow. Poor guy.

14. Gang leader Cloud x Mafia boss Sephiroth

15. Au where most things are the same, but Cloud and Sephiroth are both demons.

Sephiroth was raised in Shinra and frequently studies his dead race, believing he is the last of his kind and these books were all that were left of his people.

Then he found Cloud, who hated him on sight. As it turns out, Sephiroth is from the Cresent family. A clan of notoriously powerful and cruel demons with silver hair. What's worse is that the man was from the Strife clan, his family's enemy.

They had been at war for eons, with the Cresent family often becoming infatuated or obsessed with a Strife. They even had a phrase, which translated to, "Little song bird, you would look so pretty in a cage"

Needless to say the blond wanted nothing to do with him. So naturally, Sephiroth kidnapped him.

Demon Vincent is kind of there in the background, hiding himself like a smart person and watching over his blond friend and his deceased lover Lucricia's nephew. He allows most things, but ninjas his way in when he feels things are going too far.

#cloud strife #sephiroth #sefikura #vincent valentine #zack fair #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #yuffie kisaragi #ff7 #sephiroth+x+cloud #ff7 prompts #ff7 story prompts #prompts #story prompts #final fantasy story prompts #final fantasy 7 story prompts #final fantasy 7 #writing fanfiction about writing fanfiction

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adrinoir · 3 years

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Adrienette is....interesting

Ohhh boy. Here is my last analysis for the love square ships!

I hate to say Adrienette is my least favorite in the square - but it is. It’s ironic that I’m ranking them in the first place considering it is two of the same people for all 4 ships.

I feel like there is SO much to unpack with this. So let’s get into it.

How it got started

Marinette stupidly thought Adrien wasn’t a good guy at first. Chloe’s friend = bully. There was that miscommunication of Adrien taking the gum off of Marinette’s seat, but she thought he was putting it ON the seat.

Then the classic umbrella scene happens after Nino pushes Adrien to talk to Marinette.

Master Fu creepily watches them from afar and is like These two are made for each other.

It’s cute and wholesome because Adrien giggles at her and is so happy he finally has a new friend.

“She’s just a friend”

Shut up, Mr. Adrien “she’s just a friend” Agreste.

Thomas ass truck obviously likes to annoy the fandom here and there and one of the most annoying things is HOW MANY times Adrien feels the need to confirm aloud that Marinette is just a friend.

Despite the amount of times Adrien says this, there’s a good chance that he doesn’t realize he has feelings for Marinette since he’s so wrapped up in his infatuation for Ladybug.

Adrien hasn’t had too many friends but I like to think either he’s not clueless enough or not on the aromantic spectrum to not know the line between friends and lovers. Or maybe I’m giving him too much credit and he IS super oblivious.

It’s clearly in Adrien’s personality to be caring of others, very much so of his friends. However, he seems to just randomly really care a lot about Marinette even though they aren’t really super close friends. He also does things that cross the line into being more so romantic, and that’s why he likes her as more than a friend.

He has slow danced with her TWICE now, and not awkwardly as if she’s “just a friend.” Very tightly and romantically.

He cuddled with her on the train when she was sleepy when he easily could’ve just pushed her away.

He smiled a lot when she thanked him and kissed him for calling her “their everyday ladybug”.

He STARES at her very longingly.

He was willing to kiss Marinette for Nino’s short film (but not even Chloe).

He compliments her a lot, he can be overprotective of her, he’s willing to help her when she needs it, he’s asked HER for advice, he’s silly and has playfully teased her on multiple occasions.

In the Oblivio episode, he didn’t even REMEMBER who Marinette was but assumed she was his girlfriend. And he realized a bunch of reasons WHY he loved her when they spent time alone in the tower together. To not even know her and realize he loved her just says it all.

In Chat Blanc, there was the timeline when he actually DATED Marinette. Like I said in my Ladrien analysis, we could speculate a couple different things, but it is certainly possible that he DID realize he has liked her all this time.

And truthfully, we know how he treats her as Cat Noir, which is very telling - the flirting, how he carries her to a safe place when she’s close to an akumatized villain, how he confides in her.

I know I’ve said it in two of my analysis posts already, but it works here too - Adrien cares enough to ask Marinette how she feels about Cat Noir. He wants to know if she likes him for his true self.

There’s definitely even more signs than what I listed but even what I wrote is a long list (and it’s just moments I remembered all off the top of my head!) Adrien is just so sweet to her and I love it.

Thomas has made Marinette too creepy

You don’t even have to watch the show to know Marinette is hardcore crushing on Adrien. Similar to Adrien/Cat Noir’s feelings for Ladybug, she’s infatuated with him and doesn’t know about Adrien’s raw personality (well, knows it but thinks Cat Noir is a completely different person.)

The show centers a lot around Marinette’s crush on Adrien and it is obsessive.

In the first season, I thought Marinette was weird for having his whole schedule, having pics of him in her room, and stealing his phone, but I still liked her character. However, Thomas has made Marinette progressively more and more obsessed with Adrien in the unhealthiest ways possible.

She has reached full-on stalker level behavior at this point in the series. The one I think of is when she went as far to stack up trash cans to get over the fence to Adrien’s house when Lila was there, and then crying to the firefighter nearby when she couldn’t get in. Or, when she revealed that she has an ENTIRE chest filled with presents she made for Adrien for like the next 50 years. Or, when she tried kissing the “statue” of him. It’s gone too far.

I mean, I HOPE Thomas Astruc doesn’t think this is normal behavior. I’d like to believe he’s just writing it to exaggerate Marinette’s feelings for Adrien and make it more ridiculously silly for the kid portion of his audience. But it’s hard to say for sure. No matter what, it still shouldn’t be in the show because it could be normalizing this behavior for the younger kids, and I know for a fact it’s just making the teenage/adult audience feel uncomfortable and cringy.

Will Marinette make good progress?

Well, possibly. The show has had its share of issues with continuity in character development, but to be fair, in some ways we have seen Marinette progress.

Despite still being awkward at times, she’s able to have more conversations with Adrien without stumbling over her words. Where as before, she could barely get a proper sentence out.

She’s also kissed Adrien on the cheek and given him notes and gifts (even though they aren’t signed except the one that was Master Fu’s stool prescription).

And - even though Marinette was acting a bit over the top about it - she at least made a little bit of effort to see if she could drop her feelings for Adrien. Naturally, she couldn’t. It can be difficult to get over romantic feelings for someone, especially if they’re a friend you interact with a lot.

Additionally, Alya deserves a lot of credit for creating situations for Marinette to talk to Adrien and literally pushing the two of them together. I could name the things she did but she does this in just about every other episode. Even though the success rate hasn’t been fantastic, Alya is still the real MVP for helping Marinette (and just putting up with her in general.) There’s a lot of things that wouldn’t have happened without that extra push from Alya.

But, for Marinette to make better progress with Adrien, she needs to learn to stop being so weirdly obsessive and jealous, and to just go for it. Take the risk and confess to Adrien. Tikki has told her “there will never be a right time!”

It has been 3 full seasons and Marinette still has yet to confess to Adrien. Ugh.

And, just my own feelings, but Marinette should start to grow an attraction for Cat Noir’s personality as well, seeing as how it’s Adrien’s true self. Because, as of right now, she’s liking him based off of his timid, more model-like facade and not his silly, charming self.

Or, she also has the option to date Luka, same with Adrien and Kagami. However, both of them can’t decide on the right thing to do and just kinda lead Luka and Kagami a bit. So decisions need to be made to progress, too.

Will Adrien make good progress?

When he sorts out his feelings and understands how he feels about Marinette, yes.

Adrien’s not really creepy or jealous, he just seems like the type of person who acts on how he feels but doesn’t pick up on it.

He hasn’t done anything to hurt Marinette and would never intend to. It hurts Marinette that he MIGHT like Kagami, but he’s obviously not intentionally doing it to make her jealous (even HE is unsure of his relationship with Kagami.)

Like I said, the boy just needs to figure it out. Then things could start to move forward.

Final Thoughts:

1. Adrien has feelings for Marinette (but can’t recognize it), Marinette likes him but is too scared to say anything - they both just need to sort their feelings out in a healthy manner in order for it to work.

2. Some progress between these two is there, but it should move quicker - it’s been too many seasons of Marinette having failed attempts to confess.

3. The ship will be more wholesome when they DO sort their feelings out, and Marinette becomes less obsessive and jealous, and likes Adrien’s true personality.

If you read this analysis, if you’ve read my others, thank you so much. I hope you enjoyed them! I had a really great time writing them all.

#miraculous ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculers #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #adrien x marinette #i ship them #miraculous #the umbrella scene

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the-autisticats · 4 years

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How capitalism harms disabled & autistic people.

This topic is a long-awaited one, and something that not everyone will understand immediately. That’s okay. This post is here for you to learn from, even if you have to return to it more than once and do your own independent research in the meantime.

Before you read this, it’s probably relevant for you to know that I was raised in an anti-capitalist household. My mom has a PhD in Sociology, and her dissertation focuses heavily on the way that female re/productive labor is exploited under capitalism. She has been heavily influenced by the academic work of Silvia Federici, and Chris Knight (an anthropologist).

For over a decade, I’ve been in constant conversation with her on these issues. It has taken me an incredibly long time to fully understand everything, but now I have an understanding deep enough to debate her, educate her, and sharpen both of our knowledge. One of the key things I’ve educated her about is the way that disabled and autistic people fit into the big picture of capitalist exploitation. Now, I will do the same for you.

I think the best thing to do is to give you the general framework for understanding, and then provide you with specific examples that fit into the big picture. That way, you’ll know what you’re looking at when I give you the examples.

First, you need to know what capitalism is, and how it relates to every other system of oppression. Capitalism is an inherently authoritarian, patriarchal economic system, characterized by private ownership of the means of re/production, and the exploitation of re/productive labor to create surplus product/profit for the owners of an enterprise. Under capitalism, everyone is expected to reproduce, to create new workers. Additionally, economic growth (the creation of surplus/profit) has to be exponential, constantly increasing, in order for the system to survive. This means that the ecological boundaries of the planet are exceeded, because the Earth (coded female, of course) is assumed to have an infinite amount of resources to extract and create profit from.

This economic structure necessitates a binary reproductive class system, with reproductive females as the “working class,” and pregnancy as the labor required to produce the end product, new workers. This is why abortion is often heavily criminalized in patriarchal/capitalist societies. It is also why same-sex attracted and gender nonconforming or trans people are criminalized and stigmatized: we don’t conform to the re/productive expectations associated with our sex at birth.

Ethnicity has also been weaponized as a tool to create class categories that we now refer to as “race.” People racialized as white are afforded economic benefits. People racialized as Black are severely economically exploited. In order to fully understand the way that American capitalism developed, you have to understand slavery as the origin point. You must also understand that “race” is a tool that the ruling class employs to keep the working class divided. Because they know that if working-class white people joined forces with Black people and other POC, it would be over for them. MLK understood that, and was assasinated right after the Memphis Sanitation Strike, which was a major part of the the multiracial Poor People’s Campaign (which still exists today, btw!).

It is also important to realize that capitalism, characterized by private ownership, is not the only predatory/authoritarian/patriarchal economic system out there. There were older forms, like feudalism. And the USSR, China, and North Korea are good examples of the way that States can co-opt the role of private ownership and turn an entire country into one large corporation. It is therefore much more accurate to describe those countries as demonstrating a system called “state capitalism” rather than “communism.”

So what does all of this have to do with disabled people? And what does it have to do with autistic people specifically?

Well, under capitalism and other predatory economic systems, everyone is expected to be able to work in a manner that serves the ruling class by producing surplus/profit. If someone is not able to work at the same pace as everyone else, or perform the work required of them, they are no longer of value to the system. In an economy like this, people’s productivity is the only measure of their worth in society.

This has obvious and far-reaching implications for disabled people. So now, let’s get into the specifics that I told you I’d talk about earlier. I can’t think of a way to do this chronologically, and I don’t know how to organize everything I’m about to tell you. But hopefully you’ll be able to pick these pieces up and put them into the framework I’ve provided.

Disabled people are often killed, discarded, and left to die. This is a problem that exists worldwide, because patriarchy/capitalism are systems that exist worldwide. One notable example is the Aktion T4 program in Nazi Germany, which ended up being the precursor to the Holocaust. In this “euthanasia” program, which started in 1939 and continued until around 1945 (even though it technically ended in 1941), around 300,000 disabled people were killed across Germany, Austria, and Poland.

During this program, Hans Asperger (the man who gave Asperger Syndrome its name), saved autistic people he deemed “valuable” to society (for their ability to work under capitalist expectations), and sent other autistic people (who he saw as “unworthy of life” bc of their inability to work in the ways desired by the Third Reich) to die in gas chambers and death camps. This dark history is why the vast majority of autistic people despise the term “Asperger Syndrome,” as it promotes the idea that autistic people who conform to capitalist notions of productivity and intelligence are inherently superior to (and more worthy of life than) autistic people who can’t or don’t conform to those standards.

And you know how I talked earlier about how patriarchy/capitalism want everyone to reproduce? Well, the main exception to that rule is disabled people, because disability is often genetic and inheritable. The system hates it when more “defective” workers are produced. So, beginning in the United States around the 1910s and continuing into the present day, forced sterilization of disabled people became commonplace. Between 1909 and 1963, there were around 20,000 forced sterilizations in California alone.

The main reason given for these eugenics practices was to save money and limit the amount of resources spent on caring for “undesirable” people. Because after all, caring for people who won’t in turn produce surplus for you is just an impractical drain on resources /s. Now, I want you to turn this critical lens to these modern issues:

It is still legal in the United States to pay disabled workers below minimum wage. For example, Goodwill pays its disabled workers as little as 22 cents an hour. (Because even when we do work, our work is not seen as valuable)

Disabled people often lose all of our disability benefits if we get married, even if our spouse doesn’t have the financial means to support us. This means that many disabled people who rely on social security are completely unable to get married. (Because someone else should be taking care of us, we shouldn’t be wasting the government’s money with our existence /s)

The main focus of ABA therapy is on molding autistic children into employable adults. This means making them perform as many neurotypical “skills” as possible, in the hopes that they will be hired to work as “productive members of society.” Regardless of the methods used to try and achieve this goal, it is misguided to try and force autistic people to conform to the expectations of an exploitative system that was not built for us.

There’s so much more that I can and should talk about, but for now I’ll leave you with some things to Google and research:

Murray Bookchin and Abdullah Öcalan, Rojava / The Federation of Northern Syria, Democratic Confederalism / Liberterian Municipalism

Cooperation Jackson

The Zapatistas in Chiapas, Mexico

Crip Camp / the American Disability Rights movement

Extinction Rebellion

The Poor People’s Campaign

10 Principles of Disability Justice by Sins Invalid

“Ancient Bones That Tell a Story of Compassion,” from the New York Times

Mutual Aid as a political and economic theory & strategy

Matrilineal societies and the “gift economy”

Thank you for listening and learning with me. In love and solidarity,

Eden 🐢

#actually autistic #autism #autistic #ableism #autismacceptance #anthropology #history #sociology #capitalism #patriarchy #disability #disability rights #disability justice

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keets-writing-corner · 4 years

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Analysis on a scene from RWBY

Been a while since I’ve done any meta, and even longer since I’ve done meta just for me and not for a class. I’ve been on a RWBY kick recently, and I’m once again obsessed with Qrow Branwan and thought I’d do a little analysis from Volume 6. Of course there will be spoilers for volume 6 but also a little for volume 7, so I’m gonna put a cut

So I’d like to talk about the scene where Qrow’s trust in Ozpin is completely shattered. It’s quite famously memed. You know the one. (Quick Disclaimer, this is not meant to be a dunk on Ozpin, who’s one of my favorite characters, this is just an analysis on Qrow’s POV)

Jinn pops out being all naked

And Qrow’s all AVERT EYES

You know the moment. The whole “oh haha the local gay-leaning Bi-man got enough tiddie for a lifetime now” Or maybe it’s just respecting Jinn’s privacy. Whatever, but in actuality this little moment is less about Jinn herself, and more about Qrow’s entire image and pedestal of Ozpin is being shattered into pieces.

Let’s look at how much Ozpin really means to Qrow. We all heard Qrow’s little speech at the end of V6E3. How Ozpin was the only one who actually wanted Qrow’s help, trusted him with things, help and things that people likely spent Qrow’s entire life pushing him away from, in addition to making likely more than one scathing comment. Sure, in Volume 4, Jaune might’ve been a bit over emotional at the time, but the first thing he says when Qrow explains his semblence is to passive-aggressively MOCK him, and Qrow just bows down his head and takes it. This is likely something Qrow has heard his entire life and believes about himself. Aka the whole, the only thing he’s good for is for making everything worse. So of course it would make sense that when Ozpin comes knocking at the door, aka the prodigious cute headmaster of beacon academy, and then tells Qrow he can be MORE than just his semblence, MORE than just bad luck for others, that he can actually HELP with Oz’s cause, that Ozpin trusts him, more than other people around him, it’s small wonder Qrow hyper fixates his loyalty on Ozpin, and raises him on a pedestal. Qrow is aware that Ozpin keeps secrets, Qrow even helps him keep those secrets hidden and justifies Ozpin’s decisions, but he never once thought that Ozpin would hide something from him. No not him. Ozpin hides things from others sure, but not Qrow, right? Ozpin trusts Qrow. Ozpin is the only person who completely and whole heartedly trusts Qrow in a way no one ever has before.

Qrow’s loyalty to Ozpin is so great, that our first introduction to Qrow can arguably be considered an outlier in his usual behavior. Most of the time, Qrow has repeatedly proven himself to be chill, intelligent, patient, and someone who at all times tries to de-escalate the situation, knowing that agitation will attract more grimm. When we meet Qrow? What’s the first thing he does? Get angry-drunk waiting for Winter’s ship to show up, provokes her into starting a fight with him to make her, Atlas and Ironwood look bad, and then proceeds to sass, snark, and call out the ever living hell out of Ironwood. All of this because he was thoroughly pissed off at Ironwood disrespecting Ozpin’s trust. Something Qrow knows Ozpin does not give easily, and something Qrow considers sacred. Qrow only ever shows his brash, impulsive and aggressive side to him when someone is directly challenging Ozpin. Another great example being back in Volume 5, when Qrow is upset at Lionheart for not following Ozpin’s orders and not being even remotely helpful to Ozpin’s cause.

Aka, this man who will take jabs at his insecurities lying down, and tries to de-escalate situations, will straight up pick fights and throw hands with anyone who dares challenge Ozpin. The conversation between Qrow and Raven back in Volume 4 also implies that this loyalty to Ozpin could have been the very thing that caused him to completely abandon his family in the bandit tribe (along of course, with a shiny new and better set of morals). Qrow has demonstrated remarkable loyalty towards his new family in Tai, Yang and Ruby, and despite his disagreements with Raven, and disapproval at her life choices, he still hangs onto loyalty to her to a degree. Qrow is easily one of the most loyal people on RWBY, and Ozpin trusting him managed to get him to change his tune about his origins with the bandit tribe and become disloyal to them. That is how much Ozpin means to Qrow. That is how large the pedestal Qrow built for Ozpin is. I’m not going to get into shipping here, and quite frankly, it doesn’t matter if it’s platonic, romantic or just idolization, Qrow seriously loves Ozpin, just as much as he loves his nieces and his family.

Which leads me back to Qrow getting his loyalty to Ozpin shattered in Volume 6.

Qrow’s doubts about Ozpin started far earlier than that single moment with Jinn. It starts back on the train when Oz reveals that the grimm are attracted to the lamp. Qrow’s reaction is for the most part innocent, and he might be used to Ozpin revealing information on a strict need to know basis only. Still the surprise on his face that Ozpin withheld information from him is undeniable.

His initial reaction is to check in and confirm with Ozpin. While he is gentle, there is a bit of reproach to his tone when he says “Are you serious?” He is clearly unhappy in this moment. It’s important to note that Qrow also crosses his arms here, and remains with his arms crossed for the rest of the scene. Crossed arms can mean a lot of different things for a lot of different people. Oftentimes it’s a sign of a person become defensive, either by physically closing themself off to others, or because they’re suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

Of course, he doesn’t get much time to dwell on this at the time because Ruby rightfully points out “HEY, WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING RIGHT NOW, WORRY ABOUT THIS LATER”. This is mostly aimed at the others, who were more vocally upset about Ozpin withholding information, but Qrow remains cross armed in the background.

Qrow is just as unhappy at this as the others.

Of course, later is when things start getting real for our poor bird man. After everyone’s crashed, we’re shown flashbacks of Ozpin explaining the relic of knowledge to the group and by extension Qrow, showing us exactly what Ozpin told them, including but not limited to what the lamp does (not how it works), and that it has no more questions left to answer currently (which we later learn to be a big fat lie on Ozpin’s behalf, like an actual straight up lie). First thing Yang does is complain about their situation, to which Qrow’s immediate response is to tell her to knock it off because they don’t want to attract more grimm, aka trying to deescalate the situation so that they can focus on the least amount of problems as possible.

Of course, Blake points out that that might not even be relevant since apparently they’ve been attracting grimm that entire time due to the relic’s presence. At this point everyone agrees. We don’t see Qrow’s reaction to this, but he doesn’t vocally disagree with it either.

This might be a good place to remember that Raven encouraged Yang to not take anything Ozpin said at face value and to question him constantly. Which she absolutely does. It should be important to note that nothing Ozpin told her when she was questioning him for the first time back in volume 5, surprised Qrow. Qrow already knew everything, or at the very least, he thought he already knew everything, which further reinforced to him that Qrow was the person Ozpin told everything, and never lied to. He never had any reason to doubt Ozpin before Yang started bringing these things up on the train and he realized that Ozpin maybe was not being entirely honest with Qrow too.

While the others are confronting Ozpin after the crash, Qrow is pretty silent, but he can be seen reacting in the background.

He’s staring at the ground, listening to what the others are saying, probably thinking about it too, and then he looks at Oscar, wanting Ozpin to explain himself. Once again, Qrow is not jumping to Ozpin’s defense. Hands on hips also has a myriad of meanings in the world of body language, but it’s especially notable for when a person is getting ready to be assertive, aka preparing for some action. I don’t know for sure what Qrow was subconsciously preparing himself for, maybe he didn’t know himself, but he could feel a confrontation coming in which he’d have to pick a side.

While the team are questioning Ozpin at this time, Ozpin is openly and freely admitting to a few of his lies, and explaining his reasonings behind him, both to the ones the team knew about, and the ones that they had only just discovered. Qrow is still only listening quietly, not really taking any sides yet, but judging by his reactions to the conversation, he’s not liking what’s happening.

He seems almost in disbelief, and as if he’s currently unsure of who it is he’s supposed to listen to, or who he’s supposed to be defending right now. He’s not defending the girls, but he’s most definitely not defending Ozpin either (something we’ve seen he’ll easily go up in arms to do). By this point, his loyalty to Ozpin isn’t completely shattered, but it’s in jeopardy. He doesn’t know what he should do. These girls aren’t Ozpin, they haven’t trusted him the way Ozpin has, they haven’t told him he can be more than just his semblence the way Ozpin has, they haven’t told him that he can do good in the world despite of the entirety of his life and what other people have told him. But Ozpin is admitting to lying, coldly justifying his own reasons, and while Qrow was aware of many of these lies and in on them, he’s starting to see some flaws in that reasoning.

Then of course Ozpin gets distracted at the absence of the relic which is when poop REALLY hits the fan. He had just openly admitted to additionally having even more secrets, and now didn’t want anyone to hold the lamp, which as the others point out, is awfully suspicious if it’s supposedly useless at this time, and how it technically doesn’t matter who carries it since they’re all trustworthy, right?

Then cute boy Oscar starts taking control of Ozpin from the inside, realizing Ozpin is trying to keep even more secrets from the others. This is the first time Qrow says anything in all of this and it’s just a single questioning, “Oz?”

He still doesn’t seem particularly happy at how this conversation is going down, and he also hasn’t picked a side yet. He saw a man he was intensely loyal to suddenly act strangely and be under stress. He’s never seen an Ozpin host fight Ozpin before. Despite voicing his concern for Ozpin, he’s clearly still trying to process everything that’s happening, given that his eyes don’t stay solely focused on Ozpin and drift a little before he refocuses back to the moment.

Then Oscar reveals that to get the lamp to work you have to say Jinn’s name. Qrow did not know this, he seems as puzzled as everyone else when Oscar tells Ruby to say Jinn’s name.

And again, he’s waiting and watching quietly. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what side he should be on. For now, he’s just waiting and listening, and getting increasingly more and more uncomfortable with all these revelations. Then Ruby calls Jinn’s name, and everything freezes.

Qrow is the first to react beyond just looking up like everyone else. “What?”

Qrow didn’t know this would happen. Ozpin never told him this would happen. Ozpin never told him that time would stop when you used the lamp. Ozpin told him instead that the lamp was currently on a questions cooldown. His “what” was more about the shock of time stopping which he had no idea what happen, but it was also about realizing that Ozpin had straight up lied right to Qrow’s face and hid something from him.

And then Jinn comes out.

Then comes the shot I put way at the beginning of this meta

Qrow had exactly 0 clue this is what was going to happen if you used the lamp. He had no idea. In this exact moment, he’s not thinking about the large, mystical, blue, naked woman floating in the air right in front of him. He’s thinking “Ozpin didn’t tell me this...” Or maybe “Oz lied to me?”

Jinn then introduces herself, and while she does so, we can see Qrow still being in complete shock in the background

Jinn is about to tell them how many questions she can STILL answer this century, when Ozpin interrupts her trying to get her to stop talking, aka very clearly with no room for doubt he is intentionally trying to hide things from everyone there, including Qrow.

Qrow is one of the first people to turn around and stare at Ozpin when Ozpin tries to hide more things from them. What’s notable about Qrow’s position here, is that Qrow usually slouches. Maybe it’s a depression thing, maybe it’s a self-loathing thing, maybe it’s a tired thing, maybe it’s all of the above. Qrow is not slouching. He’s standing straight, and even looks like he’s leaning back a little, as if he’s so appalled by Ozpin that he’s trying to create more space between them without stepping away.

Jinn then reveals that she can still answer two questions this era. Earlier in this episode we were given a flashback of Ozpin telling everyone that all the questions had been used up. In this moment, it becomes crystal clear just how blatant Ozpin has been in his lies, and even worse for Qrow...

He realizes that Ozpin lied to HIM to his face with a smile.

Ozpin, the one person who had believed in Qrow, told him that he wasn’t just bad luck, that he could do some good, granted him the ability to turn into a bird, trusted him with secrets, supposedly was the person Ozpin trusted so much that Qrow was tasked with carrying Oz’s staff until he reincarnated... Ozpin had lied to him. This is truly the nail in the coffin for Qrow. He’s now chosen his side and is not going to support Ozpin.

He’s feeling betrayed by Ozpin, and in all likelihood, is also feeling used. He turns to say something to Ruby. What it is he was planning on saying we’ll never know because the others immediately jump on him the second he opened his mouth.

We can hardly blame them since, as I’ve previously established, Qrow is known for picking fights and throwing hands on Ozpin’s behalf despite usually being calm and level-headed. It’s usually the only thing that can get him to act out. Still, I highly doubt by this point that he was actually going to support Ozpin. I think he wanted actual answers just as much as everyone else, and was actually going to suggest to Ruby to ask Jinn exactly what she did in the episode. However, when the others threaten him, Qrow instead aims for de-escalating the situation, calmly putting his hands up, not even questioning the others’ threats, and voicing his support for Ruby.

As I previously stated, Qrow will, on average, aim to deescalate a situation above all else. The only exceptions have been when it was unavoidable (such as fighting Tyrian) or when Ozpin was being disrespected. This is something that has been very consistent with his characterization throughout the series. The fact that at this moment, Ozpin has basically been dragged through the mud and berated by others right in front of Qrow, and not only did Qrow not do ANYTHING to help Ozpin, instead just listen quietly, trying to determine what his own actions should be, he also did not lash out aggressively at anyone, instead aiming for his usual, deescalate the situation. This says absolute volumes for him to do a complete 180 on what’s been established to be his usual behavior in regards to his loyalty to Ozpin.

Of course, as we all know, Qrow is trying to be the bigger person, in this situation, but when Jinn starts telling everyone exactly what Ozpin was hiding from them, it pushes Qrow past his patience.

He had absolutely no clue about any of this. He was just as confused and lost as everyone else

Which, again, I know this is a highly memed moment because Qrow is essentially checking Ozma out, but consider for a second that he’s genuinely trying to understand what is happening, trying to come to terms that this man here is the real Ozpin, the real man he came to know, love and trust. And here he was not knowing anything about him, unable to even recognize him.

Most of V6E3 is focused on Ozma and Salem, while occasionally showing everyone else’s reactions. While I’m not going to sit here and analyze why each character was chosen specifically for each scene, but I will point out that probably the reactions we saw were deliberate and personal for each character. Qrow only shows up in this moment right here, when he’s introduced to the OG Oz, probably because out of all the characters there, he was the one who was closest to Ozpin, and narratively was seeing him with new eyes, which then was represented visually by the real original version of Ozpin, aka a new person he didn’t know. Qrow isn’t even present for the reveal that Oz can’t destroy Salem, because to him the information and revelations themselves matter less than the fact that he spent all these years believing that Ozpin trusted him like no one else ever had, and believed in him like no one else ever had, only to discover that not only had that trust, and vulnerability been increadibly one sided, but that Ozpin had straight up lied to Qrow. The person Qrow looked up to and trusted the MOST, LIED TO HIM, and not just about one little thing, about almost literally everything.

Qrow can’t even bring himself to look at Ozpin after the reveal of everything, he has his back turned.

The others are just further interrogating Ozpin at this point, upset at how much he had hid from them. Qrow is the only one not speaking. As a matter of fact, Qrow’s first immediate reaction is to give Ozpin a solid punch to the face before lamenting how Ozpin hurt him personally. He didn’t yell at Ozpin, except for the punch, he was pretty non-aggressive, aka the quiet type of upset, disappointed, and angry. In a way, Qrow’s softness almost hurts more than it would’ve had he been yelling at Ozpin. It shows just how far his trust and loyalty to Ozpin has been broken.

Now, I don’t think Qrow was particularly in the right to just dock Ozpin because that also means he’s landing a solid blow to Oscar, who’s barely figured out how to use his semblence as a shield, and was trying to HELP them this whole time. However, given everything I just explored, it does make complete narrative sense. Qrow was feeling very hurt and very betrayed by likely the person he trusted the most. He was acting pretty passively up until this point, and I think that his breaking point when he could no longer contain himself was seeing for himself everything that Ozpin was hiding, but especially that Ozpin didn’t have any real plan to defeat Salem. Ozpin was constantly telling Qrow that he could do good in this world, despite his semblence. That he could save people, make lives better, and then he finds out that Ozpin can’t defeat Salem, which could make that previous sentiment feel pretty manipulative and deceitful in order to gain Qrow’s alliance and loyalty. In short, Qrow feels used, betrayed, and that he’s been wasting his time doing absolutely nothing worthwhile that could help. That was his one thing that helped him keep chugging through everything. “At least I can do some good” but it turns out, even that’s a lie.

All of this is so devastating for Qrow, that he reacts the only way he knows how and falls even deeper into his depression and alcoholism, and spends the entire rest of the volume being The Load on the team. This “betrayal” has messed him up, shaken him to his very core. While it was uncool of him to further shut himself out from people who were trying to help him like Ruby, and to isolate himself and sulk, it is understandable. If it’s true that Ozpin was the person Qrow valued and trusted the most, and was likely the person closest to Ozpin besides Glynda, then it would make sense that Qrow had also been emotionally vulnerable with Ozpin. It can take a while for a person to bounce back after an apparent “betrayal” of someone they used to be so close to, and being emotionaly vulnerable with others, might lead them to reminisce on a person they don’t want to think about. Which would explain, that despite how much Qrow loves Ruby and Yang, that he couldn’t bring himself to open up to them. Instead going for the trying to not deal with reality by being black out drunk “coping mechanism” (someone please get this man some therapy and a new liver)

This post was pretty bash-y on Ozpin, so in Ozpin’s defense, I don’t necessarily blame him for his secrecy. As Ozpin pointed out, he’d been betrayed multiple times throughout his lives, he’s experienced many things, he’s likely tried multiple different approaches, which has led him to his current conclusion that he must play things close to the chest and keep information on a need to know basis only. However, when Ozpin was first explaining his cycle of reincarnation, one of the first things he says, “I am changed”. Given how badly keeping secrets has backfired on him in Volume 6, and how Oscar keeps being resident good boy, I do think Ozpin will grow and change in future volumes.

In addition, as many people have pointed out, Ozpin only retreats back into Oscar, AFTER Qrow calls Oz out and tells him how much Ozpin hurt him. Ozpin did genuinely care about Qrow, and was devastated when Qrow finally turned on him. Ozpin trusted Qrow to be the one to carry his staff until he reincarnated, that says a lot. Ozpin spent a lot of late nights chatting with Qrow during Volume 5, and just spending time together. Qrow’s insane loyalty to him probably didn’t go by unnoticed either. Ozpin genuinely trusted Qrow a lot, and valued him as a person. While Qrow certainly doesn’t view it this way, Ozpin did 100% believe that Qrow was doing good in the world by helping him, and even gave him some magic as a gift. He also gave that to Raven, who ultimately left, and this is one of the driving points of conflict between Qrow and Raven, BUT STILL. Ozpin trusted Qrow enough to give him magic. Ozpin probably spent a lot of time is Oscar’s head reevaluating what his secrecy has done TO Qrow, and also to his relationship with Qrow. The series makes it very clear that Ozpin gives people choices and doesn’t judge them on their decisions, Qrow had the choice to leave at any point in time, to leave Ozpin, just like Raven, but he didn’t. Even though Qrow feels manipulated and used by Ozpin, that doesn’t mean that that’s what Ozpin was doing. Everything about their relationship Qrow probably chose. It’s unfortunate that Ozpin was going around with half-truths and secrets that led to this moment. I wonder how this Oz-Qrow relationship will further develop in Volumes 8+, especially considering Qrow’s currention emotional and mental state and Ozpin’s return.

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wincestisasincest · 4 years

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The Green Book (Thorin’s Company x Reader, Part 3)

Hey gang! Wow, it has been a long time. I actually had the draft on my desk top for a really long time and just never got around to post it, because my life has been really crazy, but she’s back! I’ve already started the draft for the fourth chapter, so ready yourselves! Thanks so much for your patience : ).

Summary: (Y/n) falls into Middle Earth. Shocker. Somehow, she gets recruited to join a party of dwarves on their kinda crazy mission to reclaim their home of Erebor.

Part: 1, 2, 3

Tags (let me know if you want to be added to the list!): @stuckupstucky, @dianaarelyfernandezgarza97, @alexloveskili

Words: 2188

Warnings: None I think...? I mean (y/n) is kinda a pussy in this chapter and Thorin is... himself so just be aware of that

Finally gaining my footing, I drew myself to my feet and regained my surroundings in the middle of the hazy afternoon.

I used the reflection on the phone to observe myself. My (h/c) hair was an absolute tangled mess, with leaves, small twigs, and even a few pebbles here and there. I mussed it with my hand before lightly parting it, like I would do every morning. Of course, I still looked terrible, but something about fixing hair always makes people feel better.

I looked at my chin, where a massive bruise had planted itself, no doubt from the rather aggressive pushing and shoving from the trolls. Additionally, my legs and arms had been littered with small cuts and bruises that had just now begun to sting and make themselves noticed. Great.

The next order of business was to find the Company. Admittedly, I was highly uncomfortable with the idea of meddling in a familiar tale. I touched on it earlier, but, reader, the tales of Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Gandalf the Gray, and all of their adventures in reclaiming Erebor were, in fact, very common tales from where I come from. So common that they are read aloud to children every night. However, no one actually believed them to be true, for dwarves, hobbits, and wizards, along with every race except human, do not exist in the world where I come from.

I would expand on this further, but I imagine that whoever reading this has many of the same questions as my dwarf companions will ask later in these many tales, so do be patient.

While we are taught as children that it is bad practice to mess around with things that are already set in stone, we are also taught that cops are good and that “because” is a valid reason for anything, so I ignored that advice.

They may be my only chance to ever see civilization again.

Catching up with them was very easy, as, while they are quite business oriented, they travel very slowly. They had spent a long time searching in the caves of the trolls that had been killed earlier, and even longer packing and preparing for the journey ahead. Dwarves are tough, that’s for sure, but they are also very methodical, and do not like to be interrupted when they have already begun something.

Like a stalker (which I guess I technically was), I peaked out at their company from behind a tree, wondering when exactly my entrance should be made. They were apparently wondering something similar.

“I say we should look for ‘er.” Fili posited.

“I second the lad.” Dwalin piped up. Oh dear, that dwarf was so intimidating up close. Even though I was noticeably taller than him, he could take me out with a single swing of his axe, no questions axed asked.

“If she wanted our help, she would’ve come back and gotten it by now.” Nori remarked, to which Thorin sternly nodded. He was right. I did need their help, and I was back to get it. Gold digger life. (A/N I’m so sorry for removing the immersion, I would just like to apologize for all of the Gen Z shitposting in this. Feel free to tell me to knock it off.)

Gandalf and Bilbo were there. It was a moment I recognized, when Gandalf introduced Bilbo to his now famous blade, Sting. I realized in that moment that literally any point in which I decided to emerge would be interrupting something. I quickly swallowed my pride and decided to reveal myself.

“Uh, hi! I’m back.” I had absolutely no idea what to say. They all turned to face me, though at this point I was used to being gawked at. I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t make me feel a little bit dizzy, though.

I waved awkwardly, supporting my red canvas backpack over my shoulder. No one was saying anything.

Gandalf lifted his every curious head up and eagle-eyed me from across the clearing.

“Miss (Y/n)! So you have decided to join us.” It felt supremely unnatural to have him say my name. He crossed the way to approach me, leaving a rather disconcerted hobbit in the dust.

“Uh… yeah. I guess I have.”

“Wonderful! However, I’m afraid that I only offer my acquaintanceship to ladies whom I know more than their name. After all, it is only fair, since I’m sure you know mine?” No one bothered to interrupt the wizard, who, if I wasn’t mistaken, was doing the same thing to me that he did when he first met Bilbo outside of his hobbit hole.

“Ummm, yeah, you’re Gandalf the Gray. And I guess, uh,” I breathed in deeply, realizing that, whether I tell the truth or lie, I’m going to sound extremely pathetic, “I’m (f/n) (l/n), but you can just call me (f/n). Uh, I’m human, I guess, and um, I don’t really know where I am right now. I’m kinda lost, I guess.”

“Where do you hail from?” Damnit, damnit, I had no idea how to answer this.

“Ummm… really not from here. Like, so far that you probably haven’t heard of it.” His expression deepened a little bit. He was not playing as much as he pretended to. A somewhat scary reminder of the actual investment in the protection of his friends that it was easy to forget that he had.

“Try me.”

“(Hometown name).” I answered back, with a fair amount of fake confidence. He furrowed his brow and pondered slightly, while everyone else remained completely puzzled. Of course, they had never heard of my hometown either, but the were far less travelled then Gandalf, and simply resolved to not seem outwardly ignorant.

“You’re right, I suppose. I never have been there,” he paused, and no one surrounding him, myself included, was exactly sure what that pause meant, “But, how does one from the mysterious land of (hometown name) get so far from it?”

“I’m not sure. I truly have no idea how I got to this place. One day it was life like any other, and the next thing I know I had woken up about to be eaten by a troll. I swear, I don’t know.” I added that last part, because I was serious, even if it sounded like I was completely making it up as I went a long, and doing a very poor job at that.

“No need for swearing, I believe you.”

“Well, I do not.” Thorin Oakenshield entered the ring.

“She wasn’t talking to you, dear Thorin.” Gandalf may appear spacy at times, but his sharp wit never left his side.

“No, that is true, though perhaps she should’ve been, considering that I am the leader of this company.” I found it strange that, though he was arguing about me, Thorin had not yet dared to look me in the eye.

“A leader who was too afraid to approach a frightened young girl alone in the forest?” My face twisted into a bit of a displeased expression. I thought I had hidden my fright well enough, and I was practically an adult.

“She appeared far from frightened. While you were not there to see it, she was the one who confronted the troll head on, even when he was threatening her. And that thing that she can do with her eyes! I do not believe that she is as innocent as she appears.”

“Perhaps then, dear Thorin, all the more reason to have her accompany us for some time being. Perhaps,” he turned to me briefly before returning to the conversation, “we shall discover some more hidden skills that may be of surprising use.”

I’d never felt so painfully passive in my entire life, just watching two people argue about what was to happen to me while pretending like I wasn’t even there. Did I even want to accompany them? To this point, I just wanted to go with them to Elrond’s house and then see if there is any aid there. Of course, it helped that Elrond’s house is basically an all-expenses-paid vacation, and particularly accommodating to lost souls.

It became frighteningly clear that whatever separate visions they had of what was to become of me in their mind, neither of them were what I wanted.

“Are ye hungry, lass?” A finger poked my side. It was Bofur, a slightly more comforting sight. Though the two continued their bickering in the background, I diverted myself from the conversation slightly to face him.

“Um, no, I think I’m okay, I-“ my stomach growled.

Bofur smiled understandingly.

“Well, we got lots o’ food if y’ever change your mind.”

“Mahal, where did you get that?!” Kili yelled from the side. It appeared that I was now up for grabs by anyone who wanted to talk to me, as Thorin and Gandalf walked off.

“What?”

“That!” Kili pointed a finger at my chin, which I stroked thoughtfully, realizing that he was taking note of my large, now splotchy bruise that almost appeared to be a poorly shaved five o’clock shadow.

“Oh, this? It was from the troll, I think. It wasn’t there before.” I rubbed my chin thoughtfully again before giving him something of a lopsided smile. He appeared quite amused at the concept of large bruises.

“Lad, it’s considered polite to introduce yerself before askin’ a lass about ‘er wounds.” Balin remarked from the side, winking at me thoughtfully.

“Ah, yeah. Apologies. I’m Kili, at your service, miss!” He playfully bowed. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I already knew all of their names, so I just passively watched as the introduction ritual took place, feigning mental notes as though it would be a struggle for me to recall them later.

I “met” Fili next, as he always tried to one up Kili with the showmanship, then Bofur, who introduced his family, Bifur and Bombur. Dwalin and Balin respectfully bowed, which felt way more gratifying than it should. Dori, Nori, and Ori introduced themselves together, followed by Oin and Gloin. Finally, the smallest member, Bilbo, appeared to have the most practiced bow, and politely introduced himself. I nodded.

“(F/n) (l/n) at yours.” I recalled the response to the standard greeting from the book, while doing a mock curtsey. I was still wearing jeans.

“I have to admit, it’s been a while since we’ve seen a lass, or anyone for that matter, in these woods.” Balin chatted curiously.

“I can only guess as to why.” The sarcasm was the first thing that I had felt natural saying in a while.

“Perhaps the giant trolls?” Ah, yes. Sarcasm was something that the dwarves were not yet used to. I nodded at let it pass.

The group held their breath and Gandalf and Thorin returned, a tacit agreement among them to let Thorin do the talking. He stepped forward.

“Very well, (y/n) of (hometown name). You will be permitted to travel with our Company until you may be returned to some area of safety, though I must warn you against doing anything that may inhibit our quest.”

I nodded, silently agreeing to the terms that had been placed before me. He grunted, and returned to packing for the journey ahead.

“You must tell me more about this (hometown name) when you get the chance, Miss (y/n).” Gandalf added.

“I’d be glad to.” I smiled, lying through my teeth. Part of me wanted to begin planning for when I would eventually have to lie about where I came from, but the other part of me simply had no idea what to anticipate.

I recalled my red canvas backpack, knowing that it was filled with things so far from this time that it would be disastrous if they got in the hands of any of my travelling companions, even someone as wise as Gandalf. I recalled my familiarity with their tales, knowing that, no matter how honest I was, I could not reveal to them that I knew the end. I recalled the death of Thorin, Fili, and Kili, the abuse of Bilbo, the psychological torture of Thranduil, and everything unfortunate in between.

Perhaps I was better off dying in the forest alone.

“Miss (y/n), you may walk with me if you like? We are both quite out of place in this company.” Bilbo cautiously approached me, his small voice easier to focus on as the rest of the Company began to leave me alone to pack for the time being.

“I would be honored, though I’m afraid I am not a terribly experienced traveler.”

“Then we shall make fine company, Miss (y/n).”

“Oh, you can just call me (y/n), no ‘Miss’ needed.”

He appeared somewhat startled, and on the verge of insulted.

“Oh, no, no, it’s just that the ‘Miss’ isn’t very common where I come from. I didn’t mean anything by it.” I hastily added, trying to fix whatever mess I had started.

“You really do come from far, don’t you?” Now he seemed to be observing me. I nodded.

“Yes. It’s going to be a long way back.”

***********

So we finally start the shenanigans, though I must warn you that this is only getting started. As always, feel free to shoot me ideas as to what (y/n) has, or perhaps even a pairing. I’m considering also making this one a choose-your-own-adventure in terms of pairings, but that would take a lot more work, so if y’all have a specific one let me know and I can just write that!

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theonceoverthinker · 4 years

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Friday the Flirteenth (1/?)

Summary: Qrow likes to avoid others on Friday the Thirteenth. He claims he’s doing it for everyone else’s sake, and that they’re better off if he spends the day alone in his room. Clover’s not having any of his self-loathing bullshit -- not today, and not ever, if he has anything to say about it.

AO3

A/N: You ever come up with an AMAZING pun and then find a way to write a fic around that? Well, that’s happened here! I’ve wanted to release this for SO long, and finally, I can...at least release part 1! Yeah, illnesses have made this a hard fic to finish, but fortunately, I have enough here to release a respectable first chapter to what will hopefully be a respectable MC! I hope you enjoy it! Tagging @fair-game-week!

BIG thanks to my beta, @skybird13. Sky, you’re the best, and I hope you understand that. Coordinating with you with my works makes me feel so confident in them. I want you to know more than anything how much I value your help and support, not just in this fic, but in everything, and I hope we’re friends for a long time to come!!!!

()()()()()()()()

Chapter One: Fourteen Hours, and A Whole Lot of Peanuts

Qrow Branwen liked peanuts.

They were cheap, could be found just about anywhere in Remnant, had a pleasantly salty taste, and served as the perfect snack on days where he had no intention of stepping so much as a toe outside of his room.

So, in anticipation for Friday the Thirteenth, Qrow bought a LOT of peanuts.

When one had a semblance like his, a day dedicated to the very concept of bad luck was one that couldn’t be dismissed without some burden on their conscience. In fact, Friday the Thirteenth more than most any other day put extra responsibilities upon Qrow’s shoulders -- a responsibility to not cause any more trouble than necessary, a responsibility to stay away from anyone who he might accidentally harm, and a responsibility to keep the other two responsibilities secret from all who might try to intervene on his behalf.

And, just as he usually did, Qrow accepted those responsibilities and kept himself at a distance from all.

Fourteen hours. He just had to stay in his room alone for fourteen hours.

He’d lasted a lot longer on his own many times before.

It wasn’t that big of a problem, at least not in previous years. Thanks to a lifetime’s worth of practice, Qrow knew the most secluded spots in all of Remnant to hide in on occasions like this, and the fastest routes to get to them from pretty much anywhere. And with no one but enemies on his trail, there was little risk that the day provided to anyone, or at least, anyone who didn’t deserve it.

But things weren’t so simple this year.

This year, he had his nieces and a gaggle of kids as traveling companions.

This year, he resided in an Atlesian military base, one that restricted access to any type of real seclusion further than the privacy of his own room.

This year, he despised the man he had formerly dedicated his life to.

This year, things were complicated, and his semblance always loved running amok when things were complicated.

But, as he reminded himself, some of those complications ended up turning into triumphs.

Sure, it was the first year without the hope Ozpin provided. But it was also the first year where Qrow had a different kind of hope to keep him going. It was a kind of hope that made itself tangible through his nieces’ determination, his own efforts to fight off the allure of alcohol, and as of late, an encouraging smile and a flirty wink from a kind man with a semblance that seemingly counteracted his own…

Clover…

Clover...

Well, in a life of complications, Clover stood out as one of the biggest he’d ever faced. His very presence complicated everything in Qrow’s headspace all over again.

Still, that wasn’t a bad thing.

At least, Qrow was pretty sure it wasn’t.

Clover...Clover was really something else…

If someone were to ask Qrow to describe Clover after their disastrous first meeting, he’d have more than a couple of choice words for them -- cocky, pedantic, narcissistic. But things changed once they started working together, and as he learned more about Clover, while all of those descriptors were still true, the words themselves took on an entirely new shape for Qrow. What was cockiness just days before was now self assuredness, what was pedantic was revealed to really be caution on behalf of those he worked with and for, and what was narcissistic was actually a confidence that he created for himself, a confidence based in real pride in who he was and how that pride amounted to far more than just his semblance.

Additionally, a new word came to mind, too -- warm. It was a genuine warmth that flowed through each and every one of Clover’s words, and accompanying that warmth was a trust in those fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of them. It was hard not to return that trust in kind with some of his own, and for the first time in a while, Qrow felt no need to resist doing just that.

It surprised Qrow sometimes just how much he had already divulged to Clover. Part of the reason for that came out of a desire to put his best foot forward for their assigned partnership. Part of it was a warning in the interest of Clover’s safety. But some things couldn’t be explained away so easily, and could only be attributed to a real sense of trust.

Frankly, it was nice having something like that again with someone.

And it wasn’t even just Clover’s personality that painted the portrait that was Clover Ebi. Looking at Clover was like looking at a cloudless sky on a spring day. He was bright, bold -- brilliant, even. His smile was caked in charm -- true charm -- and his brow was shaped with a resolve to keep promises Qrow knew he probably could, promises he likely made to himself, Ironwood, and his country.

Maybe there was even a promise to Qrow somewhere in that mix.

No -- there was no maybe. He was sure there was.

But there was a coolness in Clover’s being too, both in his demeanor and his personality. There was an untold story in his eyes, one uncared for by his teammates, and only allowed to exist through fleeting expressions here and there during moments where he let his guard fall down. And that same jaw that held his charm like a jug held water held tension there too, as if there was an entire book’s worth of things he wanted to say, but for whatever reason didn’t. It was enough to make anyone who saw those things pretty curious about what hidden depths might be underneath that veil of job-dictated professionalism.

Qrow spent far more time thinking about all that he had left to uncover about Clover than he would ever admit.

After all, there was a lot to ask about what went on in that man’s mind, especially when it led him to befriend him, of all people.

But that wink Clover gave him on their first mission together made Qrow wonder if befriending him was all Clover wanted to do.

And regardless of how he felt in return, Qrow had to wonder whether or not he should try to stop him before Clover jumped further down the rabbit hole that was his life.

Qrow was bad news.

Then again, just about everything having to do with Clover was good news, and perhaps the exact thing that rabbit hole of his could use in its life was a lucky rabbit’s foot to help fill it up.

Wow...that was sappy.

Even on his worst days, Clover seemed able to bring out a little bit of sappiness in him. Go figure.

But, whatever fate had in store for him and Clover could wait to be further unearthed until tomorrow. Hell, he might even have time to muse on what that might be today, because for the next fourteen hours, it would be just himself, his room, and an overabundance of peanuts fighting against the slowly whiling hours of time.

Jeez...greater good or not, even Qrow could admit just how sad that was...

Maybe his abandonment of his morning coffee would at least grant him a nap and make the day go by faster…

He’d certainly prefer it that way.

Before he could even attempt to take advantage of his coffee’s absence, two knocks hit his door.

Perhaps it was foolish to think no one would bother him today -- after all, in Atlas, there was always something going on -- but he had a day off of Huntsmen duties while most everyone else he knew didn’t. He’d hoped against hope that meant that he’d be left in peace for the day.

Apparently, it didn’t.

Just his luck…

“Hello?” Qrow called out, reluctantly standing up.

“Qrow?”

Immediately, he recognized the voice, the voice that had burned itself into his memory within a matter of weeks and now had a summer cottage nestled somewhere between his brain and heart.

And there he was, letting that sappiness invade his thoughts again…

Of course the one person responsible for inspiring it was the one visiting him on the absolute worst day to do so.

Qrow approached and opened the door.

Just as he suspected, it was Clover who stood on the other side, as chipper as ever. After willing himself to hold back a grimace at the unexpectedness of his or anyone’s visit, Qrow noticed two cups of coffee in his hands.

“You missed your morning cup,” Clover stated, offering one of the ones in his hand to Qrow. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Despite himself and everything the day represented for him, Qrow let down his guard ever so slightly at the awkward way Clover explained himself. He wasn’t thrilled about someone showing up on his doorstep, but that’s not to say it wasn’t nice to see a friendly face at all, especially in the face of the rest of his sure-to-be lonely day.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting the cup with a light smile he allowed to surface.

“So,” Clover said, elongating the vowel for a few seconds as he expectantly stared at Qrow.

“So?” Qrow repeated, matching Clover’s delivery and adding in a bit of confusion.

“IS everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Qrow said, shrugging.

Clover quirked his brow. He didn’t look convinced, and unwilling to give Qrow so much as the chance to rectify that.

“It’s not, though, is it?”

Qrow fought the urge to bit his cheek, but paid the cost of that with a tremor in his voice.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You not coming down for coffee is strange on its own,” Clover elaborated, “but you haven’t even left your room and it’s nearly ten. Usually, even on your lazy days, you’re out and about by half past eight, at the latest.”

“So I slept in a bit,” Qrow defended, shrugging in what he hoped would be a casual enough manner. “What’s the big deal?”

“It wouldn’t be a big deal at all if it wasn’t Friday the Thirteenth.”

Qrow blinked, flustered even more so than when Clover had started pressing him. Clover merely looked at him expectantly.

How did he-?

Sure, Clover had a calendar, but why would he-?

Damnit, Clover...

“It’s a day for bad luck,” Qrow explained, his mood dark out of instinct more than malice. “Given my semblance --”

“It’s a day for superstitions,” Clover insisted.

“You seem to like yours just fine.” Qrow made a circle with his finger that encompassed the various lucky charms on Clover’s outfit.

Clover smiled as if he saw the rebuttal coming from a mile away.

“These are just here to make the uniform pop,” he said, laughter bubbling underneath him, as if Qrow had just walked into a trap. “And judging by how you clearly seemed to take notice of them, it looks like they’ve done their jobs quite nicely.”

Just as he finished speaking, Clover winked right at Qrow, something that was very quickly becoming a habit of his when they were around each other. Fria must’ve imbued that wink with some of her magic or something because it always felt just a bit overpowering.

Qrow made a noise that would’ve sounded more at home in his bird form than the form that actually delivered it.

“Okay, but even still,” Qrow said, quickly pushing to make Clover forget about that sound, “you know what kind of things are out there in this world. Magic exists, fairy tale maidens and Grimm are running amok -- who's to say something like Friday the Thirteenth isn’t real, too? What reason do I have to trust that my semblance won’t go haywire on a day devoted to it?”

“If you stay in your room,” Clover countered, just as quickly as Qrow had with him, “you’re making things worse for yourself. Come on,” he said, his tone brightening alongside a fresh, new smile. “We can go get an early lunch. There’s a fantastic sushi restaurant just on the outskirts of the academy that you’ll love. Their rolls put the ‘ah’ in ‘tuna.’”

Now it was Qrow’s turn to quirk his brow. “And if I leave my room, I’ll risk making things worse for everyone else. I’m not leaving. Maybe we can go to that restaurant tomorrow.”

Qrow expected Clover to keep pushing back with yet another comment, but instead, he just took a patient, deep breath.

He then shrugged.

“And I was so excited to take you there, too,” Clover lamented. “But, oh well. Have it your way, then.”

Without giving Qrow so much as a second to respond, Clover gently pushed him to the side, walked inside his room, and sat down on one of the chairs across from his bed. Qrow was stuck somewhere between being utterly stunned by the action, and not at all. After all, this was pretty standard Clover Ebi behavior in that it was utterly unpredictable.

That’s not to say it was necessarily welcome -- or that Qrow would admit it even if it was.

And this morning, he was feeling particularly stubborn in his quest for solitude.

“That wasn’t an invitation to join me,” Qrow snipped.

Clover simply lounged back into the plush chair, easing his knees as his legs spread forward. “Well, if you won’t come out with me, then I’ll simply have to come in with you.” He then pulled something out of his pocket, something that instantly brought another grimace to Qrow’s face, all the while smiling.

“Up for some cards?”

Qrow groaned.

He knew it when he woke up, and he was even more sure of it now: This was gonna be a long, long fourteen hours.

#fair game #fairgameweek2020 #qrow branwen #clover ebi #rwby

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tmnt-brave-new-world · 3 years

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So, what exactly do you guys do now? Like, what occupation do the four of you have to afford the high life? I mean, I get the broad aspect of it. I guess I just really want to know more. My mun is being mysteriously closed lipped about it. And......do you guys really get driven around?

Good evening Miss Vicky,

Leo: “We each found our interests and talents opened up a several viable options that had lead us each to a “unique” position.” Leo led as he gathered his thoughts. “Keep in mind after we managed to stop Krang and those who worked closely with him, the world was vulnerable. As far as my brothers and I were concerned, we had fought too hard and for too long for someone to simply slip into the power vacuum we had created and to continue to harsh reality Krang had created for Earth’s inhabitants. Due to this we each chose to do what we knew how to do and could most easily adapt as challenges presented themselves.”

He paused for a moment as he thought about the hardships, they had each faced and managed to overcome as they slowly helped right the world and returned her to standing on her own. A shimmering blue jewel among the galaxy and other worlds that had become familiar with the planet and its amenities.

“During our years in the resistance we managed to acquire wealth and assets. We were able to accumulate quite the little nest egg using those. Along with our acquired influence it opened many a door which in the old world would have remained not only closed but permanently locked to us.”

“I became a strategic investor. Buying the remnants of properties, businesses and services and either helping them to return to what they once were or repurposing to better suit the needs of this new era and turn a profit. It proved to be very profitable and allowed for me to continue to churn out profits which allowed for me to seek other properties and businesses to invest in or connect the right individuals with each other in away that led to my ability to offer the initial capital for a small percentage of the quarterly earnings. It helped people to create jobs and led to a lot of normalcy for those who desperately needed.

One hand washes the other, and this in its essence has lead to my own sector of the Tartaruga brothers incorporated. I have a multi-billion dollar operation on Earth and several branches operating throughout the universe currently.”

Donnie: “As Leo has said,” Donnie commented calmy, “our time resisting and fighting lead us each to our own talents. I spent a lot of time wearing many hats, which included, chemists, doctor, surgeon, agronomist, engineer, electrician, etc. to put it simply I spent a lot of time learning how to save lives, human and otherwise, and the best way to stretch our available resources in a way which led to people surviving. I also had to learn how to create medications which were so commonplace that many died without having them available. Most antibiotics don’t have a very long shelf life and when those ran out initially, we were in constant jeopardy of losing lives to the simplest of bacterial infections. My knowledge, and subsequent research lead to significant improvements and branching into many other factors, and shall we say break throughs.

Needless to say, the value of others wants, lead to my ability to fund the needs of the many. In my sector, I have several leadings areas including pharmacy, medical research, agrarian development, as well as generalized research and development in multiple fields from domestic to military. For obvious reasons, more detailed information is strictly classified.”

Raph: Raph chuckled as Donnie glossed over his closely guarded research. He was willing to kill to protect his research and continue to control the aspects that allowed him to fund the bulk of his interests and common welfare of those he blanketed with his programs. “They ain’t lying. After the world came back from going to shit, it took awhile to get it back up and going. Additionally, there were a lot of people, generally those not from this world that were way too determined to make sure we failed. This led to a lot of infighting and groups struggling for control. That tends to lead to a lot of shady business if you know what I mean, and it wasn’t like we had any type of social services such as police, fire fighting, or anything else. I initially took charge in areas like these.

I took a lot of care to train groups so that they worked together and were prepared to handle whatever problems came. It took a lot of time to cultivate proper training programs and help prepare people on how to help a traumatized world get back to functioning in a healthy way. I still help do this on planets and areas that are in recovery.”

“That being said however, my primary interest and “job” if you want to call it that, is training mixed martial artist prize fighters for the world federation galaxy league. Simply put we aren’t the only species that likes to watch trained athletes test their skills against one another within their respective brackets, or on specially contracted prized fights. I used to fight for the league and earned a lot of titles and prestige. I won most fights and was often the favorite to win after a while. I’m semi-retired and only occasionally enter the ring now days. However, I take and train promising talents for the league and other groups. I have also trained personal bodyguards for a variety of individuals. Different specialties come with different specifics and contracts as well as costs. It takes a specific might set for each, and a lot of time to drill into a thick skull.”

Mikey: Mikey laughed at the turtle in red, “Oh yeah, and you were the king of thick skulled back when we were young, and dumb.” He barely dodged the throw pillow that was chucked at his head. “Let’s see for me personally,” Mikey flashed a big grin, “I happen to be a master of many trades. During our days in the resistance, I learned a lot of different tricks to help make the food rations we had on hand not only palatable but nutritionally sound while feeding a literal army of people! So when it was possible I spent a large amount of time learning how to take fancy old world recipes and revamped them with food sources that were still available or recreated them with off world goodies. I also still paint, and love to collaborate with others to create amazing new concepts!”

His face darkened for a moment as he thought back to the early days of the resistance. “There were so many people who in the blink of an eye had lost everything, and unfortunately it was insanely common to find kids who had either been separated from their families or were the only survivor. In a lot of instances they were traumatized and it took a lot of creative thinking to coax them out of their shells and help to reteach them on how to live. This happened fairly frequently with adults as well. Because of this and what seemed like a never ending shortage of textiles, I had to learn and create new ways to make things and often times help find things that brought the sparkle back to peoples eyes. Because of this however, I have a multimedia conglomerate that allows me to work in a wide area of creative outlets. The fashion world is a flippant mistress, but there are a lot of ways in which one can compete and stand out. It’s led to a lot of lucrative contracts with those who are “starving” for the next amazing piece of creatively, or at least that’s what they tell me. The great thing about taking high end contracts and commissions is that a lot like my brothers, the revenue lets me continue to reach out to others. I fund a program that includes shelters called “Uncle Mikey’s” for those who are missing, exploited, or just need help. I also teach cooking, and practical skills for those who need them, and they are streamed to community centers such as local libraries, after school programs, and the like, to try and continue to help those who never received a chance to learn to do things due to the world kind of going through an apocalypse level event.

We hope this answers your question Miss Vicky. From the Tartargua Brothers collectively

#TMNT Brave new world AU #Asks #TMTN AU blog

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httphopewrld · 3 years

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I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a) sneak peek!!!

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slow-burn fluff, some angst, and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I’ve written, and there’s more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU’RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS.

Word Count: more than 10,000 (not finished yet)

A/N: Happy birthday J-Hope! Although the fic won’t be released today, or tomorrow, on his birthday, it will be out next Friday (February 26). Please let me know in the comments if you wanted to be included in the taglist, and what you think!

Taglist: @kirbykook @kleritata @taestannie @jenotation @hemmos-obrien @zeharilisharaban @speed-of-wind

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel, said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company’s items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while you managed the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. “Fantastic. Thank you. That’ll be all for now. Please check on West if he needs anything.” You requested. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show’s theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada’s landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, “Because you’re here all the time!” You backed back to her. “Listen, you’re the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense.” Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. “Fuck,” you cursed, taking your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you. The measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time. Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. “Wow look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. “The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won’t look good if they don’t fit the models.” You shook your head. “Maybe it’s just tougher to design clothes for different bodies, genders, and colours. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that.” Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and then finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jhope #jhope fanfic #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #ficswithluv #houseofddaeng

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goldcoinsinvestments · 3 years

Text

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patchwork-panda · 4 years

Text

If A Moment Is All We Are (12/?)

AO3 link: HERE

Note: play the 1st BSD ending when you get to the asterisk (*). Link HERE

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I finally had control of “The Story of Your Life.”

Well, sort of.

More like I used it on purpose for the first time since... middle school? At least I could say it didn’t activate the very instant I touched someone, unlike before, and the side effects were a lot more manageable than they used to be. For one, I hadn’t blacked out, despite the fact that I’d used my powers on two people within two minutes and additionally, it had taken more than one vision to actually make me sick. Maybe with time, I’d be able to learn how to shut off my Ability when I didn’t want to use it. In any case, I still had a long way to go before I could use my Ability as easily as Kunikida or the others could use theirs, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from doing everything I could to help solve the case.

While I had gone home right after the interview and spent the rest of the evening resting and recuperating, Kunikida had gone right back to the office, where he spent the rest of the night putting together a list of people we might be able to bring in. It wasn’t a very long list, but it was pretty good considering the information we had. And so, I came in the next morning to find my schedule completely packed with interviews.

I might not have gotten much out of my meeting with the Tanedas, but now that we had a better idea of how my Ability worked, perhaps we could use it to try to find the killer. The plan was simple: we’d serve tea during the interviews and while I handed someone a cup, I would make sure to do so in a way that meant I’d have to touch them. Even a brush of a fingertip would be enough. Once my Ability was active, I would use it to see several minutes of the person’s future while Kunikida waited beside me with a timer set on his phone. If the noise didn’t wake me, then he would, by tapping me on the shoulder, at which point, I would excuse myself and leave to draw or write down everything I had seen and felt as best as I could. Kunikida would then take over the rest of the interview for me and once the interviewees had left, we’d go over what we had and see if we could make any new connections between victims.

At first, it seemed to be working pretty well. For once, I was actually using my Ability—on purpose—and I was able to remember enough to write down some very detailed descriptions of the visions. However, after multiple interviews and some hours of analysis, we still weren’t able to piece together many similarities between visions. Furthermore, even though I was actively trying to look for faces, to see if there were any suspicious people that kept showing up, no potential suspects appeared. In the end, I got a pretty good idea of what the victims’ day-to-day lives might’ve been like before their disappearances but not much else.

I honestly wanted to keep going until we got something but as the day wore on, the side effects from using my Ability slowly began to worsen. At first it was just a mild headache, nowhere near as bad as it had been last night, and I thought if I just took breaks between interviews, I would “reset” and be ready to go by the time the next person came in. Unfortunately that was not the case. Repeated usage of my Ability seemed to compound the side effects, making them worse with each vision I saw. Eventually I ended up experiencing enough dizziness and disorientation that Dr. Yosano was called over to check if I really was anemic. Turns out, I was physically healthy(-ish), but I was looking so green after the sixth or seventh (I’d seriously lost track) set of interviews that I came back from the bathroom to find somebody waiting for me at my desk with a cup of hot ginger tea.

It was the clerk I’d seen before, the lady with the pink glasses. She was composed and intelligent-looking, with olive green eyes and short brown hair that curled just past her shoulders and she seemed to be only a few years older than me. From what I recalled from orientation, her name was Haruno Kirako and she was the lead clerk as well as President Fukuzawa’s acting personal assistant. Kirako held out the tea to me with a warm, friendly smile, which I took from her with a small, grateful bob of my head.

“Haruno-san...? Does the President need something from me?”

She shook her head.

“There’s been a small change to your afternoon schedule,” she said, looking slightly apologetic as she spoke. “Using your Ability seems to take more of a toll on you than expected, so Yosano-sensei and Kunikida-san asked me to take you to the clerk room to work with us for the rest of the day.”

“Huh?”

I looked back to Kunikida’s desk, which was now empty.

“But, what about the other interviews...?”

“Your last two interviews have been rescheduled for tomorrow,” Haruno said gently. “And if you’re looking for Kunikida-san, he went back to the police station to exchange some information with them. He’ll be back by the end of the day.”

“I see...”

I stared down into the cup of ginger tea, at my own glum expression.

I was really hoping to last the day too, especially after I’d embarrassed myself by throwing up in front of Kunikida last night. Now how was I going to redeem myself?

“Kusunoki-san?”

Haruno placed a hand on my shoulder and shot me a look.

“Before he left, I heard Kunikida-san say he was planning to (and I quote) work you to the bone tomorrow, especially if neither of you figures something out by the end of today,” she said, making a face. “I think you really should take the break, or you might just collapse from overwork later.”

Wait... Does that mean Kunikida still believes in me...?

“Really?” I exclaimed excitedly, “he said that?”

Looking disturbed by my apparent enthusiasm, Haruno nodded.

I still had a shot...! I could still turn this case around!

“Thank you so much, Haruno-san!”

I finished the rest of my tea in one gulp and turned to her with an enormous smile. Haruno shrank back a little.

“Lead the way!”

The ginger tea did the trick. In just a few minutes, my nausea was basically gone and I was doing so well that I was able to file papers and run small office errands with the other clerk girls while we chatted away. Then, with about an hour left on the clock, Tanizaki’s younger sister, Naomi, dropped by with bubble tea and productivity dropped to near zero as we clustered around Haruno’s workstation to take our share. Even Haruno stopped being able to focus and as she pulled out her phone to show us her cat, Mii-chan, Naomi plopped down next to me.

“Kyou-chan?”

Naomi scooted forward a little and I was once again struck by how pretty she was and how little of a resemblance she bore to her redheaded brother.

“Which do you like better? Cats or dogs?”

I had to think for a minute.

“Dogs,” I decided to a chorus of disappointed moans and a few excitable cheers. “They’re always so happy to see you and it’s easy to tell when they like you.”

“Hmm, is that so?” a familiar male voice mused behind me. “I don’t really like dogs that much but if that’s what you like about them...”

I turned around to see Dazai standing behind me, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he studied me.

“I can make it easier for you to tell how much I like you. After all, I’m always happy to see you—”

“Do you need something from me, Dazai-san?”

He looked disappointed.

“You have someone waiting to talk to you at the client booth,” he said, to my surprise.

“I thought my afternoon meetings were canceled?”

Dazai shrugged.

“She said she needed to talk to you no matter what. Mind coming with me for a moment?”

I bid the girls goodbye and followed Dazai back into the main office. As we crossed the room, Dazai shot me a furtive look over his shoulder.

“Hey, if I bring you bubble tea, will you let me call you Kyou-chan too?”

“No.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because Naomi-chan and Kirako-san aren’t going to use it to entice me into a double suicide.”

Dazai chuckled.

“You got me there...”

We arrived at the interview booth and to my shock, the old manager from the convenience store was waiting for me inside.

“Obaa-san! What brings you here? Isn’t it work hours?”

At once, I gestured for her to sit down while I ran out to get her some tea. When I came back to the client booth, I noticed Dazai was still lingering in the corner of the room, watching us with his bandaged arms crossed and a thoughtful look in his clear brown eyes. Unfortunately, when I tried to shoo him away, he didn’t budge.

“I don’t mean to trouble you at work, dear,” the old woman said, “But I just wanted to come by and thank you for working so hard on Mei-chan’s behalf.”

“Of course...”

At the mention of her name, Mei’s image appeared in my mind’s eye. I could still see her walking around with a big smile on her face as she stacked a new shipment of snacks onto the highest shelf that no one else could reach...

The manager reached down into the plastic bag she’d brought with her.

“I know you liked the Kit-Kats so I thought I’d bring the office a small box, as thanks...”

As she brought the small box forward with her softly speckled hands, I knew what I had to do. I didn’t have time to prepare an alarm or anything else to wake myself up but I couldn’t pass this up. I reached out to take the box and in a flash, I was pulled in.

I squint up at the mid-day sun. It’s hot. I’m fanning myself with the paper fan and I’m walking along the river on the way to my convenience store.

That Mei girl better show up on time today. Summer meant more people trying to duck into the cool shade of the convenience store and with Mei heading the counter, we were sure to make a good amount in sales. She recovered rather quickly from her ordeal, although I suspect she’s been throwing herself into work and staying late to avoid walking home again, poor thing.

If only she had a boyfriend... I could introduce her to my neighbor. He seems to be doing well at work and it’s getting to be around that time he settles down anyway...

I walk towards the rec center just as Mei jogs down the street towards me from that building. Her hair is dyed with blond streaks and she’s still wearing that strange-looking scrunchy in her hair like on the night she disappeared—

The vision fades. I’m being pulled backwards out of a dark tunnel—no, the tunnel is collapsing around me. I see light...!!

I was yanked out of the darkness with a sharp gasp.

Someone’s hands were placed firmly over mine, long fingers gripping the edge of the box while the palms were still in contact with my skin. Warm breath floated over my cheek and I turned to see Dazai’s face right next to mine. He must have come up from behind and leaned over to grab the box before I could drop it—and by doing so, he’d disrupted the vision. As the cardboard began slipping out of my hands, Dazai’s hands passed smoothly over mine and he took the box from me.

“Careful,” he said gently, settling the box down on the table. “You almost dropped it.”

I smiled back at him, hoping my gratitude showed in my smile.

If he hadn’t pulled me out of that vision, who knows what would’ve happened?

“Thank you, Dazai-san. My apologies, Obaa-san. I have... narcolepsy.”

“Oh? Is that so?” the old woman asked as Dazai abruptly stifled a snicker from behind me. I shot him a glare but he just winked at me.

“Y-yeah. Thank you for the snacks. I’m sorry to leave you so abruptly but—”

I got to my feet.

“I have a lead I need to follow up on. Right now.”

And with that, I sprinted out of the client booth, leaving the shocked manager behind in my wake. I could hear Dazai calling after me as I ran for the door.

“Wait, Kusunoki—!”

“I gotta go!” I shouted as I ran, nearly colliding with Atsushi as I disappeared through the front door.

“I think I know where the kidnapper is!”

Thank God I’d worn sneakers today, I thought as I pelted down the hall. In hindsight, maybe it was actually a good thing that I’d gotten sick in front of Kunikida last night; he hadn’t complained when I came in to work this morning wearing track pants and a loose shirt. I dashed outside just as the bus arrived across the street and the pedestrian light turned green.

“Hold the door!”

I skidded to a halt inside the bus just before the doors closed, my head buzzing for the entirety of the short ride and as soon as I’d gotten to the right stop, I ran for the exit and rushed down the street.

I’d been focusing on the wrong thing this whole time—while I was looking at the faces in the visions, trying to see if there were any people that showed up over and over again, I’d completely ignored any similar locations—until now!

I sprinted past the convenience store and made a sharp left up the street towards the rec center I’d seen in the manager’s vision.

That rec center...! I’d seen it twice now in the future memories of those closest to the victims. Mr. Taneda would later walk past it as he threw that flower into the man-made river and that river had flowed past the rec center and into the canal where we’d found Mayu.

Why hadn’t I or any of the police put any of this together sooner? All of the missing were athletic. They may have come from different districts and this rec center may have been very out of the way but it was big—so big it had to have courts available for every kind of sport. Furthermore, it was close to the train station by the convenience store and would’ve been ideal for meeting up with friends from across Yokohama. Mei, who lived nearby, only had to get on this bus and then take a quick jog along the river to get to that rec center.

And I had just seen this part of Mei’s jogging route through the eyes of the convenience store manager.

I raced along the river, towards the rec center. I’d never been there in my life but I had seen it through the eyes of others who had. I knew the way and if this worked, it should lead to a future where Mei, and perhaps the others, would still be alive in the summer.

Unfortunately, I’d overestimated the distance I could run; the rec center was a large building and so was much further than it actually looked. I could feel my legs starting to burn...

Gasping for air, I headed for a bench nearby and immediately collapsed on it.

In hindsight, I really hadn’t thought this through. I’d gone running the instant I’d made the connection between the rec center and the victims and I’d completely forgotten to tell anybody where I was going. Maybe Dazai had figured it out but should I be leaving it to him to brief Kunikida, who was probably back from the police station by now and furious at how I’d run off to look for a serial killer by myself?

Groaning a little, I pulled out my phone, which had miraculously not fallen out of my pocket, and swore when I saw the words “low battery” appearing on the screen.

Great.

I could probably send out a text but would my phone die if Kunikida called me? Guess there was only one thing to do. I pulled up the text app and started typing up a message that looked like it had been translated from Morse Code.

“Meet at rec center. Low battery. Do not call. I’ll explain later.”

“I really need to work out more...” I groaned as I shoved my phone back into my pocket.

I was so busy texting l that I didn’t see the man sitting on the other end of the bench with me.

“Not much of a runner, are you?” he asked and I practically fell off the bench in shock. He laughed quietly as I climbed back on the bench, my face still pink and my lungs still short of breath.

“Sorry to scare you,” he mumbled.

“N-no, it’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention,” I admitted.

His face was rather hard to see because of the long bangs that ended somewhere around his nose but he looked like he was probably in his thirties and that he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Like me, he was wearing track pants and sneakers but unlike me, he wasn’t all sweaty and gross; in fact, he didn’t look like he’d gotten up from this bench in some time. Maybe he was taking a rest.

“Were you jogging too?” I asked curiously.

“A little,” he said, looking out across the river. “I like to come here sometimes. It’s peaceful.”

I nodded as I sat up a little and examined my surroundings, trying to spot the rec center in the distance. I was pretty far away from the bus stop, so I had to be getting close enough to actually see the building soon, right...?

Noticing that I was looking around, the man spoke up again.

“Are you lost? Looking for something?”

“Not really?” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. “I mean, I kind of know where I’m going...”

When he looked at me questioningly, I wiped my forehead and grinned awkwardly.

“Okay, I’m actually trying to get to the rec center. A friend of mine likes to play volleyball there and she said I should check it out if I ever wanted to join her.”

The man in the track pants nodded.

“I know the place. I actually go there a lot too. It should just be half a kilometer down that way, around the bend.”

As he lifted his arm up and pointed down the street to his left, I saw a flash of bright orange. There was a scrunchy on the man’s wrist, a bright orange one that was covered in colorful bows and pom-poms. Catching me staring, the man instantly stuffed his hand back into his pocket.

“Oh, this?” he chuckled feebly. “It actually belongs to my girlfriend but I carry it around when I’m missing her. I know, it’s silly isn’t it?”

“No, not at all!” I exclaimed, waving my hands.

I could feel a chill creeping into my blood as I looked at the man a little more closely. There was definitely something weird about this guy. Why was he sitting on this bench in track clothes when he clearly wasn’t out here for a run? Why not rest directly inside the rec center where there were sure to be lockers and showers and seating areas? And why was he sitting here, so close to the rec center, wearing a scrunchy that looked identical to Mei’s? Was he waiting for someone? Or worse... scanning the streets for a new victim?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized something was off about the way he was acting. He didn’t seem so strange at first but the moment I’d spotted the scrunchy, he’d gotten all shifty and wouldn’t look at me. Something told me he wasn’t dating one of Mei’s teammates and I had the horrible sinking feeling in my gut that the scrunchy on his wrist really was Mei’s.

I should talk to him so I could find out more...

“I...” I started. “I think it’s sweet that you’re so dedicated to your girlfriend.”

He twitched—noticeably—and I realized I might’ve been acting too friendly for a complete stranger. However, he hadn’t moved away from me, so I decided to push my luck and scoot down the bench, moving a little closer so I could try to get a better look at his face. Hopefully, Kunikida had gotten my short text from earlier and was already on his way...

“You do, huh?” the disheveled man mumbled, one dark eye peeking through the curtains of black, lanky hair to closely examine me.

“Yes, I really do,” said, hoping I sounded sincere. “My boyfriend works too much and he never has time for me any more..."

Hoping my facial expression didn’t give away the lie, I smiled a little and moved a tiny bit closer. He had cuts on his face, but not from a razor; there were a couple small scratches on his left cheek, looking like they were just a few days old. I glanced at his hands—too big to have made such scratches. That meant he’d gotten into a fight with someone who had smaller hands than he did...

Fighting off a shudder, I kept talking.

“Maybe I should give him one of my hair ties so he’ll think of me more...” I tried to laugh.

But the laugh died in my throat the instant I saw the look in the man’s eyes. Not even Akutagawa had looked at me with that level of hostility. There was no doubt about it—he was the one who killed Taneda Mayu. I swallowed and out of instinct, began shrinking away. I couldn’t tell if it was my phone buzzing in my pocket or if I had just started shaking.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t pay attention to you?” the man asked, his voice dropping low, the disgust evident in his tone. “If he doesn’t care about you, you should just break up with him. Find someone better.”

I felt a subtle vibration in my pocket—my phone was definitely buzzing but who was calling? Dazai? Kunikida? Was one of my mentors coming to help me? If they were, I needed to let them know what my current situation was—somehow.

I kept my face as neutral as I could and slowly reached for my device. If I answered it, someone’s voice might startle this man into running, and given the difference in our stride length, I was not going to be able to catch up if he escaped. Maybe I could press the right button at the right time, so that whoever was on the other end of the line would be able to hear us and figure out what was happening. Was there some way to get this man to shout...?

The phone buzzed more insistently in my pocket and I pushed “answer,” moving my cell so the receiver was sticking out of my pocket a little.

“B-break up?” I asked, making sure my voice sounded clear even as my pulse raced. I pulled my phone up even further out of my pocket.

Please don’t let my battery die...

“But I’ve never had a boyfriend before and it’s so hard to meet people these days...”

But as I trailed off at last, the man suddenly looked infuriated.

“Hard to meet people?!” he snapped, “With a face like yours?”

To my alarm, he got off the bench. He turned to me and started shouting.

“Pretty girls like you make me sick! You only see the good-looking guys, the ones everyone is already chasing! If girls like you only took a proper look around, you might see that there’s been someone who’s always been waiting for you, worshiping your every move—someone you’ve ignored for years.”

He started walking away and the moment he turned his back, I sprang to my feet. There wasn’t enough time for Dazai or Kunikida to get here.

I couldn’t let him get away!

I rushed forward and chased after him, reaching forward with my hand.

“—Why don’t you take a good look around you before you start complaining,” he snapped, flinging his hand out in an irritated gesture as I stretched out my fingers, “You entitled little—!”

My hand clamped around the man’s wrist, just beneath the scrunchy and at once, I felt the pull. The street started compressing around me into that now-familiar darkness that signaled the start of a vision and I felt the mouth of that darkened tunnel stretch open to swallow me up. I gritted my teeth and tried to force the tunnel away.

But while I was struggling to prevent my Ability from activating, the man noticed I was holding on to his arm.

“What the...?”

He tried to shake me off but I wouldn’t let go. In the struggle, my phone flew out of my pocket and hit the sidewalk with a clatter. A man’s voice came out of the speaker.

“Kusunoki?” it crackled from the other end. “Is that you? Hold—”

The phone abruptly died just as I put my other hand on the man’s wrist. My vision was fading to black and the man was trying to grab his wrist back again but I held on tight.

“Let go of me...!” he shouted.

I had to fight it—I had to suppress my Ability.

President Fukuzawa said I should have control of it by now. If I truly had control, then shouldn’t I be able to turn it off...?

I held on tighter, my fingers squeezing around the man’s wrist as I continued to fight my Ability. Backup was coming. All I had to do was keep him here until someone arrived and trust they would be here soon. Lives—maybe even my life—depended on it.

I gritted my teeth and continued to concentrate with all my might to stay in the moment and keep my Ability at bay, even as my dizziness threatened to overwhelm me and I saw the man ready a fist. He raised it above my head...

“I said let go, you little—”

CRACK.

The man’s wrist was wrenched out of my grasp and I opened my eyes to see a body in track pants go flying, propelled through the air by the force of a very solid roundhouse kick. As the dust settled and the man landed on the sidewalk a good distance away, I turned around to see who had saved me.

Standing right behind me, with one long leg still half-raised in the air, was Kunikida Doppo. He was panting with exertion and with his long blonde hair all mussed up and the red ribbon around his neck coming untied, he looked angrier than ever—but in that moment, I was so happy to see him that I wouldn’t have minded being kicked myself if it meant I could throw my arms around his neck.

“Kusunoki!!”

His sharp green eyes blazing with undisguised rage, Kunikida shoved his glasses back up his nose and stalked towards me. Behind him, a bright yellow taxi (the one he’d just taken) peeled away down the street.

“Why the hell didn’t you wait for me?! I ran into Dazai two minutes after you left—two!!—and he said you figured out where the killer would be and that you’d gone out to go and look for him—by yourself!”

He threw his arms into the air in disbelief.

“When I asked him why he didn’t go after you, that asshole said you wouldn’t answer any of his calls! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Kunikida-san!”

I pointed down the street at the man in the tracksuit, who was slowly getting to his knees.

“It was him! He kidnapped Mei-chan! Her scrunchy is still tied around his wrist!”

And then I spotted a glint of silver on the ground. I rushed over to retrieve it as Kunikida called my name and yelled at me to come back.

“And this!! This belonged to Taneda Mayu-san!” I exclaimed as I scooped it up in my hands. “It was in the photo her parents showed us!!”

“That’s senpai’s...” the man on the ground rasped, clutching his broken, bloody nose as he rose to his feet. “Get your filthy hands off it...”

At once, Kunikida’s face darkened.

“Excuse me?” he growled, stepping forward.

I watched as Kunikida strode past me and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt.

“You have some nerve calling a member of the Armed Detective Agency filthy.”

As he lifted the man into the air, Kunikida gave him a good, hard look.

“Senpai, huh?” he said in an undertone. “Aren’t you a little old to be calling a twenty-eight year old ‘senpai?’”

***

The streets were bathed in red and blue from the flashing lights of the police cars. Under the light of the setting sun, the man in the track pants was yelling loud enough for all passersby to hear as the cops shoved him into the back of one of the police vehicles, yelling about the problems girls these days had (“those entitled bitches who don’t know what’s good for them—!”). I let out a sigh of relief as the cops slammed the door shut on his face and took him away for good and I went back to the bench, promptly collapsing on it in a heap.

As the sound of sirens slowly faded away, Kunikida approached me and sat down at my side on the bench, taking care to avoid the spot where I’d mentioned the kidnapper had been sitting.

“He made a full confession,” Kunikida said, tucking his hands into his pockets and crossing his legs. “In fact, with the way he was yelling, I wouldn’t be surprised if all of Yokohama heard what he’d done already.”

He sighed.

“You were right—he did kidnap Saeki and the others and in fact, he’s been hunting women at this rec center for months, specifically targeting those who reminded him of a girl he once loved. From the sound of it, she was a pretty upperclassman who rejected his advances all the way back in high school...”

I drew my knees up to my chest and stared out into the river.

“What a long time to hold a grudge,” I mumbled. “And taking it out on complete strangers too. How twisted...”

Kunikida nodded solemnly.

“The good news is, it seems Saeki and the others are still alive. It won’t be long before the Military Police arrive at his hideout and rescue them. Thanks to you, everyone should be able to go home to their families tonight.”

“Everyone except Taneda Mayu,” I whispered, letting my forehead rest against my knees. Mayu’s bracelet had been taken by the police as evidence and I knew that sooner or later, it would find its way to the shrine her parents had set up for her. If only she too, would return alive as the other victims would.

“How are the Tanedas doing?”

Kunikida grew quiet.

“As well as can be expected,” he said softly, looking out across the river with me. “At the very least, they’ll have closure now.”

I nodded.

For a moment, we just sat there next to each other on the bench, staring quietly at the water, each lost in our own thoughts. It had been at least a full thirty minutes since my confrontation with the murderer but the adrenaline had not yet faded from my system and I was still feeling weirdly dizzy and shaky—probably a side effect from suppressing my powers. I hugged my knees tighter to my chest as Kunikida slowly pulled out his notebook and started writing.

“The work day may be over,” he said, “but the office is still open. When you’re ready, we should head back. You’ll need to type up a report describing the arrest and how you came to identify this man and then give it to Haruno-san. She’ll make the redacted copy that we’ll be turning over to the Military Police tomorrow morning, striking out anything relevant to your visions so we can maintain the secret. And, speaking of your Ability...”

He closed the notebook and looked at me, his brows furrowing in concern.

“I know using it takes a toll on you. Are you alright?”

Turning to look at him, I offered him a shaky smile. The dizziness was fading rapidly but, not wanting to puke in front of him for the second day in a row, I didn’t lift my head from my knees.

“I’m fine. And it’s all thanks to you, Kunikida-san.”

My smile faltered.

“I... I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my voice cracking a little. “I’ve only just joined the Agency but I’ve put you through so much trouble already. I feel like you keep having to save me.”

I hid my face behind my knees again.

“I didn’t mean to run off without talking to you earlier. I just... I knew what I had to do and where I needed to go and I didn’t want to waste any more time. Not when there were lives that could be saved... Not when there was still a chance I could bring Mei-chan back to her friends and family...”

I sighed heavily as I heard the scratching of Kunikida’s pen against his notebook once again.

“You’re writing me up for this, aren’t you?”

There was a long pause. The pen stopped scratching. And then I heard Kunikida sigh as well.

“I’m not writing you up, Kusunoki-kun.”

Surprised, I lifted my head up off my knees and turned to look at Kunikida, who was sliding his notebook back into his vest with a pensive, almost guilty looking expression on his face.

“And despite what you might think, I’m not mad at you either,” he mumbled, rubbing his temples with one large hand. “But I can see why you think I am. I know what my coworkers think of me. What you must think of me after we’ve worked together so closely for the past several days.”

He ticked off a short, succinct list on his long fingers.

“I’m quick to anger, a stickler for the rules, a man far too rigid and unyielding for his own good who cares for nothing but doing right by his own ideals.”

He grimaced as he stared down at his own hand.

“I hate to admit it but you’re not completely wrong. However, I’m like this for a reason.”

He turned to me.

“Kusunoki-kun, do you know why I’ve been so harsh on you?”

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked away.

“Because if you didn’t whip me into shape, I’d let people die—”

“That’s not it.”

I froze.

He sounded... frustrated? And not in the usual way.

Unsure of what I was hearing, I slowly turned to look at him. There was something different about Kunikida in this moment—something I’d never seen before. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was seeing something like affection in the depths of his eyes. But that couldn’t be right... could it?

“It’s because I know what you’re capable of,” Kunikida said quietly. “I saw what happened earlier. You suppressed your Ability, didn’t you?”

I was taken aback.

“You noticed?” I asked, as Kunikida nodded.

“Do you know why I vouched for you in the first place and asked the President to give you the test?”

I shook my head.

“It was your ideal,” Kunikida stated plainly. “When you told me that you not only wanted to save people, but follow through and see their salvation to the very end, I was moved. ‘To completely save a person...’ What did that mean? I thought about it for a long time after you left. I thought about a lot of things after you left.”

He lowered his eyes and stared into the river.

“I thought about how you’d rushed back into the gallery to save me when you were the one who was supposed to be saved. And then, during your Exam, when we were putting your convictions to the test, I watched from the sidelines as you finally stopped running and turned around to face your challenges head-on. I knew then that you were a capable person who could make the Agency proud—who could go on to do great things someday, so long as you believe in yourself. And today...”

Kunikida slowly turned towards me. His expression seemed to soften in the pleasant, orange light of the setting sun and his sage-colored eyes glowed with a subtle, tender warmth as he firmly held my gaze.

Kunikida smiled.

“Today, you proved me right,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you... Kusunoki-kun.”

Upon hearing his words, I felt my heart stutter in my chest. I suddenly wanted to reach up and place my hand over his.

Had I ever seen him smile like this before...?

“Kunikida-san...”

Checking his watch, Kunikida took his hand off my shoulder and stood to go, leaving my shoulder warm and tingling in the wake of his touch.

“You did well today,” he said, looking back down at me from his considerable height, “but make sure to keep working to improve yourself and your Ability. The cases will only get more difficult from here on out and I expect to see you rise to the challenge.”

He adjusted his glasses and began walking away.

“Now, come on. We’re heading back.”

* As I got up and began following him back up the street, I suddenly found myself unable to walk too closely beside him, all too conscious of his broad shoulders and tall stature. My shoulder still burned where he’d touched me and when Kunikida looked back at me, to make sure I was still following along, I couldn’t help but flush the moment his eyes met mine. There was a strange, budding warmth in my chest and the more I looked at my mentor, the more I couldn’t help wondering why I’d never noticed how handsome he was...

It couldn’t be...

Was I falling for him?

#Bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #kunikida x reader #kunikida doppo #dazai osamu

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