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chrolloctrl · 4 years

Note

hello～! can i request for Adultrio who fell in love with fem crime hunter Reader? also have a nice day/evening💘

thank you for the request! i tried my best to make all of these different from each other, but i also tried to stay true to how the characters would sincerely react:) oh and sorry for the late post, school’s been tough :( but yknow it be like that

note(s)/warning(s): some mentions of blood and violence, but other than that nothing you wouldn’t see on hxh though

fandom(s)/character(s): hunter x hunter, adultrio, aka illumi, hisoka, and chrollo

for dialogue purposes, italics are you, and bold is the character :)

i l l u m i

since you’re a crime hunter and he is a literal trained assassin, the relationship is pretty much seemingly doomed for failure

however i imagine that you guys meet in an a very unexpected way

he’s on a mission to kill someone who had stolen from the zoldycks, and you’re on a mission to take out a thief

yeah it’s the same guy you got it

illumi gets there first and gets the job done

much to your dismay

you’re standing right behind him as he’s covered in blood over the body

all you say is “since when does the assassin do something morally correct?”

“when it benefits him.” he responds.

i think he recognizes you before you recognize him

“you’re y/n, right? crime hunter?”

“you could say that.”

“we aren’t so different you know..”

“we are incredibly different. i don’t kill for sport.”

“you still kill, though.”

you’re so pissed off because he kind of has a point

oh and that emotionless stupid little face of his pisses you off even more

it’s all love we know i love illumi

illumi’s bloodlust is out of control at this point, your interaction with him just increased that

“what are you going to do? kill me?”

“no. it doesn’t benefit me now does it?”

“what do you want from me illumi?”

“ a deal.”

somehow he ropes you into helping him on missions as long as it corresponds with your own morals

i think the moment he realizes he’s in love with you is when you explain morality to him

like obviously he has no idea wtf good morals are lmao

you act as his therapist in a way, comforting him about his past and telling him that his bad actions don’t make him a bad person, just a person who used to do bad things

sorry guys i love soft illumi, and i genuinely think he has the capability to be good

one day he breaks down after a mission, and he is so embarrassed that you’re the first person he shows his deep, buried emotions to

you just hold him and comfort him, telling him its not his fault

after that he doesn’t want to talk to you because he’s embarrassed

“i think emotions make you a better assassin.”

“how does that make sense?”

“makes you think twice.”

and now he knows why killua loves gon so much.

h i s o k a

we already know this bitch is obsessed with you

probably keeps tabs on you to see what you’re up to

every headline involving you “taking down another lowlife” catches his attention so fast

he wants a fight so bad

so he creates a plan

commit a crime so terribly that they HAVE to send you to take him out

just another amazing idea from hisoka!

so he figures out who you’re working for, and kills someone close to them, obviously leaving behind a trace so they have somewhat of an idea as to who he is, but still making it a hunt

he probably leaves a star and tear behind, something that only those who knew him would recognize

and so he watches you hunt him while he hunts you

you’re asking anyone and everyone if they recognize the star and tear, most people either having no clue, or recognizing it but keeping quiet about it in fear of what hisoka would do

eventually, someone says they know a person who draws a star and tear on their face — hisoka morrow

once hisoka hears that you know his name he is absolutely ecstatic, he probably reveals himself to you right after

“it has been so fun watching you search for me.”

“if you knew i was looking, why be a coward and hide?”

“there’s no fun if there’s no chase, darling.”

you guys battle it out, i imagine the fight is very close, but evidently you just can’t keep up with him

“you put up a beautiful fight…hmm, perhaps i’ll let you survive if you join me?”

out of breath and on the brink of death, he assumes you’re saying no

right as he goes for the finishing blow, you hold your hands up, and whisper through a mouth full of blood a small “i’ll do it.”

he has a huge grin on his face, so excited to have successfully “corrupted” you

sorry y’all added a little corruption kink in their my b

once he takes you to machi so she can heal you, you both go on ur little killing ppl missions together cos what else does hisoka do lol

he realizes he’s in love once you finish someone off, a crazed look in your eyes, smile on display, covered in blood.

“you’ve never looked as beautiful as you do now.”

you and hisoka’s love is weird. but it’s intense, and it is real. just not...normal.

you guys are crazy killers, but it works

he probably draws a star and tear on you just so u guys can match

after u.. murder people <3

yandere reader vibes sorry

c h r o l l o

for this, we are going to assume that you are the “weakest” link of the crime hunter agency

so they make you the bait

sorry i just want to cover all of our bases

you definitely have a lot of potential, you are just incredibly clumsy, and taking down the phantom troupe is something that requires plenty of people on the job

chrollo already knows you’re a crime hunter when he “runs into you” at a bar, as well as the fact that you aren’t working alone

but he entertains you, just because he’s bored lol

i can already picture you being caught off guard by how handsome chrollo is, because honestly im sorry who wouldn’t be

you kind of even forget you’re there on a job

but, when chrollo asks if you know about nen and what type of nen you use, you quickly remember why you’re there

you smile, “yes, i’m a specialist.”

he asks you to show him, but you decline

“i will lose it if i do.”

chrollo smirks, “smart girl.”

with that, you feel a sharp pain on the side closest to chrollo, and everything goes dark as you tumble into his arms

once you wake up, all the spiders surround you, chrollo in the center

“caught in the web.” you say, as chrollo’s eyes lighten up.

“precisely.”

“is there any way to escape a spider’s web?”

“prove to be worthy.”

there he went again, begging to see your nen so he could steal it

but just because you were thought to be the weakest link, didn’t mean it was true

“i mean, you’re looking at it right now.”

the troupe stares in confusion, and before chrollo can respond, one of the spiders falls to the ground, beheaded. (i can’t pick who so just pretend its ur least favorite <3)

the spiders stand there in shock

there were two of you.

the real you, free and unbounded, makes the clone disappear

“you said you were a specialist, but this seems to be a conjurer technique?”

“the speciality is that you can’t steal it. it isn’t exactly nen.”

this is the first time someone’s caught chrollo off guard, he has no idea what to do, i mean how did he know that this you wasn't a clone?

“now, i’ve heard once a leg is missing, there needs to be a replacement. what does the head think?”

you weren’t just a crime hunter, you were a double agent who wanted in on the phantom troupe

the moment chrollo realized your abilities weren’t nen, i think that’s when he fell in love

hear me out

he knows he’s going to be indebted to you forever

and we all know those books he reads...mf is a hopeless romantic who if in love, pretty much is absolutely obsessed

and boy is he obsessed already

of course, he is unable to steal it from you which is quite a drag

but, with you there, and your undiscovered abilities, the phantom troupe was basically unbeatable

something he wanted so badly

“welcome to the troupe number ___.” (once again i can’t decide who LOL you guys can pick)

you protect him and he protects you.

if any of the troupe questions you and your decisions, he defends you so fast

eventually the troupe is referred to as “a spider with two heads”

kinda cute, kinda funky fresh name for thieves and murderers<3 at least u guys r passionately in love <3

i hope this was good!! im kind of rusty so sorry :( im finishing up some other requests, and im thinking of crossposting a fic on here and on ao3, inspired by my dr strange/hxh hcs :) but requests are still open! guidelines right here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ thank you to everyone who shows love to my posts!

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh hcs #adultrio hcs #adultrio x reader #hisoka x reader #chrollo x reader #illumi x reader #hisoka hc #chrollo hc #illumi hc

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nekophiliaff · 3 years

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how they move (a personal reference)

I said I was going to do a Twitter thread for my headcanons on how the characters dance in my GenIno socmed au When You Move (I’m Moved). But there was just so much to unpack.

So my self-indulgent ass wrote a whole LONG ASS post instead!!

Most of these are just for the benefit of the the story (Sakura being unable to look alluring when dancing to sexy choreos lmao) but some of these I believe would be true outside of the story (Hinata having ballet experience, Shikamaru is a tutting machine).

Genma Shiranui

Big Daddy G mainly dances hiphop but he is not master of one style/technique (whereas kks is god of popping and isolation, obi is a b-boy). BUT.

HE IS AMAZING AT CHOREOGRAPHY N FREESTYLE. THIS MAN. PUT ON ANY SONG. HE WILL DANCE. BEAUTIFULLY. JAZZ. HOUSE. SALSA. ANYTHING. You best believe this sexy motherfucker memorized TaeYang's Wedding Dress choreo in high school and decided from then on that he was going to be a dancer.

Ino Yamanaka

Ex-cheerleader (position: dancer and backup flyer). Used to be stiff but loosened up after time away from cheering. Mostly hiphop n absolute beast with sexy dance (but ALSO contemporary bc she is flexible ((but not as flexible as hinata)) n not afraid to fall. Oops.).

Think BP's Lisa. She takes choreo. ELEVATES IT. Sets the blueprint. Shows you what it's supposed to look like. Every choreographer's dream. Plus, she knows to communicate with the audience while performing. She is trained NOT to get too carried away or too lost in the moment.

Obito “Veto” Uchiha

Obito loves breakdancing. He's not as fast or powerful as Gai and Lee but he knows how to work the floor. His moves are cleaner, more cohesive than the capoeira duo. When it comes to choreography, this man is GOOD but tends to FORGET STEPS bc he's TOO INTO THE MOVEMENT.

ALSO: "Naruto, Kiba, look! The parking lot is empty, let's do tUMBLES!!!!" Does stunts with Naruto, Kiba, Sasuke, Lee, and Neji.

Rin Nohara

Not originally a dancer. It will show when she's dancing with everyone else. BUT. The experience also comes across because she will never look out of place. She will execute choreo AS IT IS INTENDED.

Think how BoA dances in "Only One" or Kahi in Wall to Wall. It LOOKS EASY and SIMPLE when in reality, it's actually very difficult and requires understanding of how your body will move and look like (because if someone who isn't aware of their own body tried the Only One dance, it would most likely look AWKWARD.)

Kakashi “Kash” Hatake

This man. Is GOD of classic locking, popping, and isolation. Will never give more power than is required of the choreo. His movements are smooth. Clean. Precise. He has full understanding and control of his body. Good in freestyle. Revels in minute movements.

Weakness? Do NOT expect him to CHOREOGRAPH a whole routine. He cannot. For the life of him. Create a routine.

Sakura Haruno

She. Is an absolute BEAST. This woman will stand beside Naruto and Chouji. and KRUMP. Total opposite of Kakashi's precision. She can pop like kks but hers is not as clean bc she puts more power in releasing her muscles. If they danced together, it would prolly look like this (skip to 0:38).

Sakura cannot EVER look alluring in a sexy choreo. She's got too much power (and swag). She can dance it. But it doesn't look sexy on her. It comes across more as attitude.

Tenten

Took martial arts as a kid (arnis). Transferred all that athleticism into dance. Will get doWN ON THE FLOOR WITH THE B-BOYS MAN (it's why she always got her hair tied) and just SPIN.

Also: Freestyle! When outside of a dance circle (a “cypher”), Tenten will make use of the surroundings to dance. practicing in the park?? ok lemme just juMP ON THAT LAMP POST and DANCE. parking lot??? OMG it’s veto’s car lemme just kick on it a lil bit on Rin’s behalf.

Hinata Hyuuga

Took ballet as a kid. HATED the control. HATED being too restricted. Taught herself contemporary and eventually hip hop (oh how the Hyuuga clan GASPED). Helps Genma choreograph contemporary numbers for S-Rank but mostly dances them with Sasuke.

As for hip hop, Hinata SERVES!!! Sakura’s POWER is overwhelming but Hina will hold her own just fine and will KILL YOU with the attitude in her EYES ok. Hinata working sexy routines with Rin is also a must-see.

Sasuke Uchiha*

Took ballet as a kid. Go-to guy for contemporary numbers. Only trusts Hinata to choreograph (and dance with) for contemp bc she's the only one WHO UNDERSTANDS the forms and techniques.

In hip hop, like Rin, he does the choreo AS INTENDED. He is also used for stunts sometimes because he jumps high n come on twinkle toes let's use that ballet experience to good use.

Shikamaru “Bullshik” Nara

No words for the TUTTING GENIUS. Clean angles. Fast hands. Can create scENERIES USING A WHOLE TEAM'S FINGERS, HANDS, ARMS, ELBOWS with his choreography. Ya know, like this but faSTER.

Like Kakashi, he is also a master of popping and isolation. Not so much locking. Locking needs a lil more energy to pull off. He's too tired for that.

Shino Aburame

ROBOTIC. That's it. Jk. Also a master of popping, locking, and isolation but he has a specific style he sticks to whereas Kakashi is mostly just freestylin it n feeling the groove. Kash actually likes dancing with Shino and Shikamaru (my lovely funky trio). But Shino is mostly focused on his own thing.

The one time Shino choreographed, Kakashi danced with him n it looked like this (it mellow af man).

Chouji “Ciao” Akimichi

S-Rank's very own KRUMP KING. Chouji is POWER incarnate. And only Sakura and Naruto can stand next to him, dance next to him when he's doing his thing. He may not be as FAST and AGILE as his teammates but. He will CRUSH choreo if u tell him to let loose.

Break a leg? Chouji will BREAK THE FUCKIGN FLOOR with this routine!!!!

Naruto Uzumaki

Almost a male version of Sakura only he isn’t afraid of stunts (yea she can’t even cartwheel). Takes ur Tiktok choreos and gives it the ENERGY it deserves!!!!! But, like Obito, he tends to FORGET CHOREO esp when he's feelin the music.

Also the glorified HYPE MAN of S-Rank. Someone else dancing in the circle? “YEEEAAAAA WORK IT!!!!!” Dancing WITH the team during training or on stage? “AYE AYE AYE LETS GOOOOO” his energy is CONTAGIOUS.

Kiba Inuzuka

This man. An absolute SLUT FOR STUNTS. He rly prefers doing stunts than the dancing, tbh. Always pulling Naruto so they can practice whatever NEW THING he came up with!!!! (he mostly likes stunts bc the more impressive, the more the crowd cheers and he is a whore for cheers) he'd totally come up with smth like this with naruto, genma, and obito!

He is also good at creating choreo. But Kiba, pls STOP with the pelvic thrusts. Not all the routines need a pelvic thrust, u horndog.

Neji “NJ” Hyuuga

You mean ALL 3 JUNIOR members (and Gai) have martial arts experience?!??? Neji has a black belt in Taekwondo but that doesn’t matter. he is mostly just here for choreography. BUT this man is precise af. Never misses a beat. Is all about hitting those complimentary beats in between counts and listens for other instruments in the song.

Rock Lee (and Maito Gai*)

Lee and Gai (both have some training in capoeira). Two peas in a pod. Both super into old school hiphop and breakdancing!!!!! Before Gai's injury, he and Gai were the ULTIMATE B-BOY duo.

*Sasuke and Gai (along with Kurenai and Asuma) are no longer part of S-Rank, sadly.

Ending note: I might make another post with just links to choreos and who I feel they belong to lmao bc this was way too fun to conceptualize. I didn’t include choreos to GenIno bc I don’t wanna spoil some of the other stuff lmao.

#WYMIM

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ssaalexblake · 5 years

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star wars spoilers

ros spoilers

move onnnn

like actual proper major spoilers and i’m making this intro long in case mobile decides to hate read mores today

...

Anyway like, i am a Shallow sw viewer who isn’t actually likely to kick up a fuss abt what i didn’t like in any serious way even tho i got issues, But i wanna say what i really liked b/c?? there were moments in that movie with themes i Loved and i don’t wanna be negative nancy for this franchise because i am actually incapable of taking it seriously tbh no matter how wtf or wild it is and i just Gotta;

First of all. The entire franchise was worth Rey it for calling Leia Master.

like, they added her in best as they could, which wasn’t fabulous but i can’t really say how they’d work their way around that tbh so i’m not gonna rag on abt the Leia plot But god they proper confirmed she was a Legit Jedi thank u V much.

Chewie!!! Got!!! his!!! medal!!!

they put porgs in the movie, it was my only request and i recieved. i am content.

also the effects on old palps were Incredible and Creepy and!!! props to the vis effects teams

also s/o to the choreographer who planned out rey’s fighting style to look like gymnastic tumbles but with a murderous glow stick. love it.

idk what extended sw canon now says about force powers being able to heal But the old eu book shatterpoint is one of my faves and i loved the inclusion that Rey can just like. Heal.

also lol i heard daisy ridley on the radio this morning and she was supposed to be requesting songs to air but didn’t know the names of them and i have Never related to anybody more than i did in that moment.

look ok, that rey and kylie could literally fight each other when not in the same room was Really Cool ok

tho i would have Paid to have seen the pov of an outsider while they had lightsaber battles from miles away tbh b/c that would have been Wild

i had one Horrified moment where i thought the ‘rise of skywalker’ thing was a Pun about kylie dragging his ass up from that hole and u have No Idea how thankful i was @ the Rise sequence

also i, a massive mace windu fan, was Ecstatic his voice was present in the proceedings

which were A) tacky and B) Abdolutely my favourite thing ever.

it’s a space opera ok i am allowed to Want to be here for the tacky heartwarming shit

‘is that the navy??!?!?!?!?@ ‘ no sir... it’s.. .People’ was one of the funniest yet heartwarming sequences in anything ever ngl

HORSE WARTHOGS

inexplicable lin manuel miranda cameo

rey’s temper explained due to the fact that she is related to... Vilanelle

and look ok, i Always hated the idea of Rey being related to the skywalkers and Any crap meta that she had to be family for it to Count properly. It was an insult to found family, any form of adoption etc etc and i am.. Actually very mollified by this familial turn of events lol. It has a certain symmetry. and sw is literally built on the idea that history repeats but... different.

i was’t against rey being related to anybody, i just didn’t want her to be a skywalker because like... she was gonna Be a skywalker b/c legacy isn’t about blood, and uh... least i was right. i am naturally happy abt this.

also when i watched tlj the first time i was CONVINCED at the end of the movie she’d raise luke’s x wing from the depths as yoda did for luke in esb, and was Super off put that i was wrong. I was not wrong just... my timing was off. luke rose the x wing for her. ur yoda now luke. deal with it.

the other ex storm troopers who laid down their weapons!!! all of them!!! fin is not alone, they only have power by making you think you are alone!!!

i Really loved that thematic thread btw

also richard e grant’s performance was actually kind of chilling

but i am glad that i can still happily say that every character in sw Is a total unmitigated idiot. All of them. Stupid. Idiot rights. Yes, this is a plus point.

i also liked that it’s Kind of obvious hamill and ford picked up slack for what Would have been carrie’s scenes??? Like, it’s horrible she’s not there but they obviously care to do that in her stead. it’s sad but makes you smile.

as much as i’m not a kyle fan and never will be, and as much as i am not a fan of the ship, i can’t say there there weren’t decent thematic threads around the rey and kylie plot. Her symbolically killing kylie in a fit of rage, actively actually rising to his bait, realising as luke did in the roj climax that she had let the dark side get the better of her But having the power to take that Back and heal him and Stop even after she’d done something. It’s like the originals but not. And so, kylo is dead and Solo walks again. Was this plot My thing? No. But i appreciate the symbolism of him being stabbed through the stomach like he did to Han, and i appreciate the contrast of her actions after doing that versus His after he did it. What a difference.

i said this wasn’t a complaint post but u wanna know the worst part abt the movie??? how cheap the sith dagger looked. surely u can do better than that???

anyway, 3po’s red eyed when he translated the sith was hilarious tbh.

also hilarious: sw’s response to hiring Another brown haired white lady was to Only show her eyes in a way that was Incredibly conspicuous and was therefore unintentionally hilarious.

Finn is Explicitly force sensitive now and it’s over for y’all

wedge!!!

like... the sith amphitheater??? with the ghosties of all sith past (i think??? my interpretation anyway) was Genuinely creepy???

this is a Bit of a side note, but Luke was Perfectly in tune with tlj luke??? Because tlj luke changed tune before the end of That movie when he gucci booted his astral ass to distract kylie, him Saying his fear was wrong was merely verbal confirmation of what was portrayed in tlj. really. That’s not them backing away from tlj, it’s afffirming it.

i really loved that hux just got That death. I liked that while he Was used for ridiculous comic relief, the narrative did not forget he was just straight up evil.

L A N D O

that i all. that’s the point. just lando.

sheev palpatine’s late entry for Shittiest parent/paternal figure in the sw universe Was at the eleventh hour but by god did he give it his all to win the competition.

things only relevant to cm fans: they killed kate callahan’s husband!!! :((((

critics are slamming them for like, hardly killing anybody but I for one am happy they didn’t go grimdark and just went. Fuck it, we’re gonna keep being bullheadedly optimistic and most everybody lives, deal with it.

s/o to that gay moment that lasted like 2 solid seconds but i’d have preferred it if she’d been like, making out w/ chewie tbh.

that hug!! the trio hug!! my ot3!!! that i am even more convinced would Properly work as an ot3, too btw. Poe spent the whole movie jealous finn is into Rey, while confused abt it b/c He’s also kinda into Rey in that han/leia Tension kinda way, but Finn is also into Poe but not in the Puppy way he is with Rey, in the ‘i am so in love w/ you i don’t realise it but i trust you with the world’ kinda thing and Rey also has the Tension thing w/ Poe and would do anything for Finn but she’s like... Busy. B/c like, unfortunate family reunions and the awkwardness of being a millennial Actually offered a decent job that your morals do not allow you to take and the crisis that leaves u with.

anyway what i’m saying is the ot3 is Sailing in my head. look how it ended!!! Sailing.

however, i would like it known that the lady at the end Should have heard the word skywalker and Run for the hills. missed a chance.

But also Rey Did find that family of hers Maz told her she’d get ahead of her!!! i hate how many ppl say that was dropped or forgotten. like wtf??? what are finn and poe and chewie and bb8 and 3po and all the army of droids that love her and all the resistance that does too??? Luke and Leia??? y’all obsessed with blood when it comes to sw. She’s got her family.

now i Could make a complaints post but i just... I’ll leave that to everybody else and their mothers for now bc they’d be better at it anyway. I liked This stuff. Except for that point about the dagger. that sucked.

#and once again i gotta say fuck to keep this outta tags #believe it or not the is a positive post #i... did not start watching the space opera thinking i'd get stunning cinematic achievements #so i'm not like... actually disappointed bc i expect nothing *shrug emoji*#but as listed #there were many many things i liked to the point i enjoyed watching even tho a few things i Hated #and god i hated them a lot #but also the sw can be super dumb and some of y'all takes on inconsequential parts are.. . absurd #spoilers #sw spoilers #ros spoilers #rise of skywalker spoilers

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years

Text

Ephemera Chapter Eight

Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.

Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.

Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter is a little short unfortunately, but that’s because this week is a double update week! On Wednesday at 12 PM (PST), I’ll post Chapter Nine! So please stay tuned for that. I hope you guys like this chapter. We’re getting really close to some...fun developments and reveals so I can’t wait to get there! As always, thank you guys for your support and thank you for enjoying my work! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Ah, and links will be added later!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

Special update: Wednesday, February 6 at 12PM (PST)

“Wait, wait, wait-,” began Nara, sitting on the counter at Nunchi, Mr. Kim working beside her and me sitting opposite her on a stool. “So you…seduced him?”

My head fell onto the counter and I groaned. “Kinda…,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Did you guys, like,” said Nara, then stopped and cast suspicious looks over her shoulder at her busy father before leaning close to whisper, “do it?”

I coughed, clutching my chest as I turned wide eyes to her. “No!” I shouted, but the Sunday-mid-morning crowd of cafe-goers all gave me similar looks of disdain. I calmed myself and settled my gaze on her with a grimace. “I’d never do something like that.”

“Taking the moral high ground?” she asked with a laugh as she hopped down from the counter to sit beside me. “With a guy who’s only dating you to get to Vante?”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead as Mr. Kim approached with a cup of steaming red tea. I turned to him with a smile and nodded my thanks. “Sujeonggwa,” he said, turning back to his espresso. “Extra honey.”

I took a sip and eased into my seat a little. “I’m amazed you remember that, Mr. Kim,” I said with a laugh as the warm autumn tea slid down my throat.

He hummed in response, broad back turned to both me and Nara. “Your dad told me never to give you caffeine, so I always added extra honey just to give him a hard time,” he said with a chuckle.

I smiled. “Reminds me of my childhood,” I said. “When things made sense.”

Nara pinched my arm and furrowed her brow at me. “Knock it off with that depressing shit, Y/N,” she said with a sigh, fanning her silver hair out behind her. “You should be happy, shouldn’t you? You found his weakness and to top it off it’s super easy to use against him since it’s…well, you.”

I shook my head. “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” I said with a pout, warming my hands on the sides of my drink. “But something about it keeps bothering me.”

Nara sighed and turned to face me properly in her stool, posture poor as she met my eyes. “You’re feeling guilty,” she said.

I stiffened, looking back down to my drink with flushed cheeks. “I’m not.”

“Liar.”

I turned to her, frowning. “Well what do you want me to say, Nara? That I feel like shit for using someone who’s been using me for months?”

She smiled softly and reached a hand out to pat my knee. “Yeah,” she said. “At least it’s honest.”

“I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said, resting my cheek in my hand as my eyes slid to the kitchen behind Mr. Kim where Mrs. Kim was slicing persimmons. “Isn’t this like Stockholm Syndrome?” I asked, mostly as a joke.

Nara laughed. “It’s only Stockholm Syndrome if you’re trapped,” she said, flicking the side of my head with one manicured nail. “Exit’s right in front of you.”

Everyone had been telling me things like that lately. And despite that small flash of bravery with Jungkook, I was still holding myself back. I furrowed my brow as I struggled to put it to words, but the nameless sensation was elusive, impossible to grab.

With a sigh, I simply shut my eyes and shrugged. “I guess…just because someone is bad to me doesn’t mean I have to be bad too.”

“What’re you gonna do?” asked Nara softly from beside me, and I felt her rest her hand palm-down on my back, right between my shoulder blades.

“I’ve gotta tell Taehyung.”

Professor Jung concluded the lecture and shut his notebook, shouting the homework at the rapidly exiting students. Instead of following the flow of bodies like I normally would, I fought past them to find Taehyung. I emerged in front of him, scratching my arm without meeting his eyes. Why was I suddenly feeling so guilty? What did I have to be guilty for? I had to tell Taehyung about it.

Even if it felt like I was betraying Jungkook.

“Oh, hey,” he said with a soft smile from below as he gathered his things in his leather messenger bag. “What’s up?”

“You have some free time?” I asked, finally looking at him properly.

His glasses, which had been broken beyond repair the last time we’d met, were now good as new. Or perhaps, just new. He blinked at me with tender eyes and I tried to return his smile, but it felt stiff.

“Mhm,” he said, standing to join me as I led the way to the hallway. The two of us walked side-by-side for a moment before he spoke up again. “Sorry I rushed out in the morning. I had to get to work.”

I stiffened and turned to him, shaking my head. “No! I’m sorry for staying over after all that,” I said, face beet-red as the embarrassment finally caught up with me. I paused at the building entrance and turned to Taehyung, holding out the large H&M bag I’d folded his clothes into. “Which reminds me, here’re your clothes.”

He took a half-step back and furrowed his brow. “What? You don’t need to return those,” he said, his head cocked to the side.

“These are designer,” I said, shaking the bag. “You can’t just give them to me.”

He shrugged but took the bag nonetheless. I had a feeling it was more to appease me than acknowledge that I was right. “It’s not that big a deal, Y/N.”

“Maybe not to you,” I said, then sighed and shook my head. “But that’s my rent in there.”

“Then keep it,” he said, trying to hand the bag back to me.

Before he could, I slipped out the door and onto the sidewalk, bracing myself against the cold by burrowing deeper into my sweatshirt. Taehyung emerged from inside breathlessly after fighting with other students to get outside and met me on the curb with a frown.

“Seriously, keep it,” he said.

I pushed the bag gently and by accident my fingertips brushed his abdomen. His eyes went wide and he coughed a little, inching away. “Forget about the clothes. I’ve got some news about Jungkook,” I said, cringing at the way his name tumbled guiltily from my parted lips.

Taehyung’s eyes went wide. “You do? In just a few days?”

“It’s been…a long few days,” I said with a nod, sighing as I turned toward campus. “We should go someplace a little more remote. He’s always wandering around here.”

“He’s a student, right?”

“Film student,” I said, sweeping my gaze across the courtyard in search of a bobbing brown bowl-cut.

“Really? Is he any good a filmmaking?” asked Taehyung, pursing his lips.

I went still. Had I ever even seen any films he’d made? Had I ever bothered to ask? Had I truly been so enamored by the idea of him that I never paused for even a moment to figure out who he was? What kind of relationship had this been anyway?

A sham on both sides.

I cleared my throat and made my way down the cement stairs. “Let’s get outta here.”

I sat shivering on a bench, awaiting Taehyung’s return. Once we’d found a quiet place to sit overlooking several weaving Hongdae streets, Taehyung had insisted on buying some of the spicy rice cakes from the vendor nearby. Not keen on interacting with anyone while I composed my thoughts, I opted to sit down and wait. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw his back turned to me, waiting in line behind a couple as they took their sweet time ordering. As if sensing I was looking, Taehyung turned to peek at me and mimed a gagging face behind the couple. I laughed as he slouched and tapped the face of his watch with a frown.

Before I could offer a response, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and fished it out, quick to read the text.

Coconut: u busy?

Y/N: Mhm. Why?

Coconut: miss ur dumb face >:(

Y/N: You saw my dumb face on Sunday.

Coconut: that was DAYS ago

Coconut: i need a recharge

Coconut: i feel…

Coconut: my strength…

Coconut: draining….ack!

Y/N: Stop spamming. I’m with a friend.

Just as Taehyung returned, I pocketed my cell phone with a sigh and turned to him. “Boyfriend?” he asked, eyeing me as he offered me a toothpick.

I took it and speared a rice cake, eating quickly with a frown. “Yeah. He’s shaking me up.”

Taehyung chuckled and nudged the food my way once more. Without a word, I took another rice cake into my mouth. He laughed. “You said you had something to tell me about him?”

I nodded. “I figured out an angle,” I said, but my voice was low and I felt chilly despite the warm rice cakes.

Taehyung’s eyes went wide and he focused on me properly. “You did? How?”

“I had him over to my family home and I saw some texts on his phone,” I said with a sigh. “It feels kinda dirty though.”

“After everything he’s done?”

“Maybe he has a reason.”

“Reason enough to hurt Vante?”

I went quiet, simply watching my lap, before I shook my head and shrugged. “Forget it,” I said, fiddling with my hands. “Doesn’t help anyone to get into an ethical debate.”

Taehyung sighed and nodded. “You’re right,” he said, then glanced at me through his thick lashes. “So…your angle?”

I ran a hand through my hair and met his eyes slowly. “He has feelings for me,” I said.

Taehyung’s brows raised. “You sure about it?”

“Pretty much,” I said, then let my eyes focus on something distant, something not really there. “He’s having a hard time separating his personal feelings from whatever job he’s doing. If I’m a pawn, he’s getting reluctant to use me.”

“So…the angle is to use his feelings for you as leverage?” asked Taehyung. Coming from someone else, I might have thought he was being sarcastic. But his tone was sincere and when I looked at him I noticed his eyes had that same faraway quality as mine.

“Yeah,” I said, still scanning his face. “Even though it feels shitty.”

“It’s what he did to you,” said Taehyung with a shrug. “If he can play that way, so can you, right?”

I nodded. “I guess…I guess I have to, huh?” My phone buzzed once more in my pocket.

Taehyung, likely sensing my hesitance, turned to me and met my eyes. “Remember what happened at the club?”

My heart clenched at the mention of that night and the chilliness in my stomach gave way to something a little warmer. I set my brow. “Yes.”

“Remember that girl you saw?” asked Taehyung.

I met his eyes, the warm feeling going hot. “Yes.”

“How did that make you feel?” he asked slowly, brows low like this was the most serious conversation he’d ever had.

I turned to him. “Made me feel like he was making a fool of me,” I said, remembering the way he’d rushed to the edge of the mezzanine to watch me run away, eyes alight. Remembering Seokjin beside him. “Like they wee all making a fool of me.”

Taehyung slowly smirked. “Well, what if I told you that with this new information, there might be a way to rectify that?”

My back went straight and I eyed him. “Like revenge?”

“For what he did to you, to your pride…don’t you want to show him he can’t treat you that way and get away with it?” asked Taehyung.

I smiled, the thought of it enticing, and met his eager eyes. “You have a plan?”

“Hatching one,” he said, roughly standing to his feet and leaving the rice cakes on my lap. He smiled down at me and shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat. “I’ve got a lot of arrangements to make, but-,” he began, a knowing smile on his face that briefly made my heart race, “keep next Saturday free.”

“Next Saturday?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

He nodded. “I think I know how to rattle their entire plan and you’re gonna have to help me.”

My eyes went wide. “I am?” I asked, pointing at my chest.

He smiled and turned on his heel, eager to leave the bench and the street and likely the neighborhood altogether. “I gotta go start getting things in order. I’ll update you once everything’s set.”

“O-Okay,” I said, flushed as the wind whipped my hair around.

And with that he was gone. Quietly, I pulled my phone from my pocket and red over the message. As I did, a slow smile crept over my lips.

Coconut: The same friend who gave you those nice clothes?

He never texted that way with me. Proper punctuation, capitalization? With a chuckle, I popped another rice cake in my mouth and, still chewing, I wrote my response in seconds.

Y/N: The very same :)

Sighing, I pulled my blazer up around my shoulders and met my own eyes in the mirror. This one was snugger than the one I’d left behind at the club. I found at my pumps as they sat in the corner, one knocked over on its side and the other still dirty from running around Seoul with Taehyung. I leaned down to run my index finger along the raised ring of blisters along my ankles and hissed at the tenderness. Resigned to my fate, I grabbed for my heels but out the corner of my eye something caught my attention.

A pair of flats I’d bought for my interview at Gallery V and worn only once, sitting lonesome on the shoe rack.

I stood upright and mused over the shoes. How much trouble would they cause really? They looked professional, and I’d be much more apt to carry heavy canvases and direct tours if my feet weren’t screaming with every step. Cautiously, I picked one up and slid my toes inside. With a sigh, I eased into the comfortable shoe. I grabbed the opposite pump and slipped it on with a wince, my right knee bending to accommodate for the shorter shoe on my left foot. Even without my full weight on it, the shoe made my heel ache, fire shooting from each blister up to my hips.

I stared at myself for a long moment, touching my ascot gently as I thought. I knew Mr. Kwon would have a fit if I made one more misstep. Surely he wouldn’t fire me over shoes, but after the incident with the patron before and my wearing lingerie to work, I wasn’t so sure we were in the best standing. But he was reasonable enough, wasn’t he?

That presupposed I’d have the guts to reason with him at all…

A glimmer caught my attention and I realized with a jolt to my gut that it was the ruby necklace, glittering in the light from my window as it sat on my bedside table inside its case. I took one last look at myself in the mirror before, with a budding smile, I kicked off my heel and slipped into the second flat, grabbing the necklace on my way out the door.

“Thank you for your business,” I said gently with a bow as a patron left the building after buying a painting.

She waved over her shoulder with a grin, her kitten heels clacking against the hardwood. “Thank you for the excellent service,” she said before turning and breezing into the hall.

I smiled and laced my fingers behind my back. Beside me, Areum meandered the floor, occasionally explaining a piece or gesturing with perfect hands toward features in the gallery. Her legs looked long and powerful in her heels, but as she swiveled around to greet another patron I noticed through her nude pantyhose that her ankles were raw and red.

“Excuse me?” said a voice from beside me.

I jumped and turned to see Jungkook standing at my side, grinning down at me. The overhead lights gave his hair a halo and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was an angel. He reached out and tucked a loose hair behind my ear. Perhaps my conversation with Taehyung had really shaken me up, or perhaps something in me was really shifting, but that charming twinkle in his eye did little to move me. Instead, I simply smiled and placed a cold hand on his bicep, leaning close and watching as his skin went pink. All I could see was the image of him holding that girl close on his lap. All I could remember was the fact that he’d spent the weekend with my dad and was still intent on using me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as I touched the delicate pendant resting on my clavicle.

He glanced to the photograph beside my head. “I wanted to see you working,” he said, eyes wide as he scanned the print. “This is really cool.”

“Mr. Film Studies approves?” I asked, eyeing him.

He chuckled. “How could I not?” he asked.

He was right. The photo was pretty amazing. Another black-and-white print, the piece featured a windowsill from below, Seoul spread out like wings extending in either direction before disappearing into the harsh line of the pane. Light streamed through in geometric shapes, reaching in from the window to just brush against someone’s hand, resting against white bedsheets. Apart from that shaft of light, near-darkness took up the rest of the shot.

“Vante is interested in natural forms,” I said with a nod, falling into the familiar rhythm of docent and patron. Jungkook marveled at the work with an almost fond smile. “Are you familiar with Imogen Cunningham?”

Jungkook nodded. “Learned about her in my photography class last year,” he said, still unable to look away from the photo.

I smiled. “This picture always reminds me of The Unmade Bed,” I said.

He hummed, crossing his arms. “I see it,” he said as he pointed to the single visible hand. “Like capturing a candid, natural moment.”

“Do you like to do that?” I asked, then wished I hadn’t. Wanting to know more only meant trouble.

“With film?” he asked, wide eyes on me. I said nothing, simply stared at the photo. He smiled and sighed in a way that was nearly wistful. “Yeah. Art is supposed to be mimetic, you know? It should hold a mirror to the world without flinching.”

I stiffened. Since when had he been so profound? I glanced up at him only to find his eyes affixed once more to the print. “The best art does,” I said slowly.

“I’d like to do that,” he said with a nod. “Making up stories about people that could be real, imagining what they might do or say, and then articulating it in a physical space…it’s really cool, right?” he asked, looking at me with a speculative wonder in his gaze that disarmed me.

I swallowed hard and blinked. “Um…ah, yeah,” I said, a breathy laugh following that I wished I kept inside. I scratched my arm and nodded. “That’s pretty grand.”

“I think I have a long way to go though,” he said with a sigh, wringing his hands. “I don’t understand people well enough yet.”

“But you want to?” I asked.

He smiled and nodded, reaching a hand out to adjust the ascot around my neck. “To understand art, you gotta understand human nature,” he said, then laughed and shrugged, still fiddling with my scarf. “But humans are really complicated. I wish I could understand what motivates certain people.”

“Certain people?” I asked, eyes wide and heart fluttering.

He smiled as he finally got the scarf to lay just so and let his fingers brush against the necklace. “This looks nice on you,” he said before returning his focus to the photographs lining the wall. “What else can you show me?”

I stiffened and opened my mouth to respond, but paused as I felt someone approach. Quietly, I turned to see Mr. Kwon standing near my flank, brows furrowed and expression severe.

“Hello, Sir,” I said with a bow, hands pressed against my stomach.

He returned it with a bare nod before sighing. “May I speak to you for a moment?” he asked, terse.

I stood upright and met his troubled eyes. “What is it, Sir?” I asked.

“Let’s not discuss this in front of a patron,” he said, voice low.

I took a step back slightly and blinked at him. “Is it very serious?”

“Quite,” he responded, curt.

I glanced at Jungkook who was avoiding looking at me, presumably to preserve my dignity. But by then, a familiar anger was beginning to take shape in my stomach. “Sir, this is my friend. He’s not looking to buy anything. Please, if you have something to talk to me about I’d much rather discuss it here rather than leave Areum to work the floor alone,” I protested, leaning back.

Mr. Kwon sighed and gripped his nose bridge. “Y/N, you really must learn to respect the dress code,” he said, eyeing my shoes.

There it was.

Something was beginning to splinter in my brain. Perhaps it was my patience. I inhaled sharply and glanced down at my feet. “Sir, I’ve been experiencing a lot of pain in my feet because of the heels.”

He met my eyes and shook his head, vaguely woeful. “I know it’s inconvenient, but we have to maintain a very professional affect.”

I crossed my arms, something I’d never have done even a few days ago, and furrowed my brow. “My shoes don’t affect my professionalism, Sir. In fact, the uniform heels are extremely uncomfortable and likely lower my work performance,” I said, eyeing him. “Significantly.”

“We just had this discussion, Y/N,” he said, his tone tense as his eyes darted around the gallery.

I bit my tongue. I wasn’t usually this uppity. Normally, I’d take the critique and move on. But this time, I couldn’t quite sate my outrage. And as I quietly lifted my hand to readjust my loose ascot, my fingers once again swept over that tiny pendant. And I remembered something Mr. Kwon himself had said to me during our last discussion.

People only have the power you give them.

I stood up straighter and met his eyes in a flash. “The male employees here don’t have to wear uncomfortable clothes to be considered professional.”

“That’s…,” began Mr. Kwon, but he only shook his head and cleared his throat. “That’s not the issue at hand.”

“But it is, Sir,” I said, my protests tumbling freely from my lips as I became more and more enmeshed in my out upset. “It all leads into the same issue. It’s absolutely unfair for the female employees to be held to a higher standard than the men, expected to work long hours on our feet in heels that give us blisters. Even Areum’s ankles are red. This has nothing to do with professionalism.”

He stiffened and furrowed his bushy brows. “Y/N-,” he began, but I shook my head.

“And furthermore, what about my flats is unprofessional? I’m wearing pantyhose as required, my blazer is buttoned in the center, my ascot is angled properly to the left, my blouse covers my chest, my hair is out of my face, and what’s more I just made a large sale,” I said, my words zooming quickly and nearly bleeding into one another. “If I remember correctly, last quarter I made more sales than any of our other employees. Just think of how many sales I could make if I could wear comfortable shoes.”

Mr. Kwon stood blinking at me for a long moment. He wasn’t a bad man. By no means. Just…old school. And perhaps it was time someone taught him a new thing or two. So as he stared at me, and the brief compulsion to apologize and retract my complaints emerged in my brain, I quickly quieted the urge down with a steadying inhale. I crossed my arms and raised my brows, awaiting a response.

Eventually, he closed his mouth and cleared his throat once more, eyes flashing toward Jungkook before resting once more on me. “Perhaps you’re right. It may be useful to begin implementing a more reasonable dress code.” With a curt bow, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway toward his office.

For an infinite moment, I simply stared after him agape, eyes transfixed on his wake as my thoughts ran miles faster than I could account for. My cheeks were hot with adrenaline and, while they still ached slightly from past abuse, my feet felt fine.

“Holy shit…,” said Jungkook beside me.

I was once again aware of his presence and turned to him with wide eyes, finding him marveling at me. A smile was playing with the edges of his lips and there was a fondness in the way he scanned me from above that I wasn’t quite expecting.

“What?” I asked slowly, unable to process even the simplest of thoughts.

He scoffed and rubbed his jaw, cheeks flushed. “That was…,” he began, then shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Reckless? Stupid? Uncalled for? Rash?” I asked, eyes going hazy as they focused on nothing in the distance.

He was quiet for a moment before, without looking at me, he said, “Hot.”

With my bag slung over my shoulder, ready to brace the hazy autumn evening, I felt a hand gently touch my elbow and nearly leapt out of my skin. Turning quickly, I found Taehyung staring surprised at me in the near-empty break room, his round eyes wide.

I caught my breath and gave him a smile. “Hey, what’s up?” I asked.

He righted himself and released my arm with a soft chuckle. “Ah, just a delivery,” he said, holding an envelope out to me. The card stock was thick, expensive, and had been obviously opened and resealed with a proper wax stamp. “It’s the plan I was talking about,” he added with a wink.

I stiffened and stared down at the thick envelope, running my fingers over it. “So fast?” I asked.

He nodded. “I had to get things together quickly since we’ve only got a week and a half.”

“God,” I said, smiling slowly. Did this envelope truly contain my salvation? “It’s only been a few days. How involved is this plan anyway?”

Taehyung chuckled, like he knew something I didn’t which was probably true. He rubbed the back of his neck with a shrug. “More involved than you’d think.”

“Am I gonna have to do anything crazy?” I asked, my voice hushed, as I scanned the break room and the hallway for any peeping coworkers.

Taehyung placed both hands on my shoulders and forced me to look at him. “Nobody’s listening in,” he said with a smile that briefly made my heart race. “And I’d never ask you to do anything I didn’t think you’d approve of.”

I exhaled slowly and nodded, holding the envelope close to my chest. “Alright,” I said quietly.

Taehyung smiled, nicking my chin with his knuckles, before turning on his heel. “I’ve gotta get back to work, but if you’ve got any questions-,” he began, then stopped and furrowed his brow. “Wait, you don’t have my number.”

I laughed and began fishing my phone from my bag, but Taehyung was quicker. He grabbed my hand and pulled a pen from the pocket of his massive coat, leaning down to get a better look at my skin. Suddenly, I felt flushed. Watching the top of his head as he wrote, I struggled not to squirm under the ticklish feeling of his pen sliding across my palm.

For a moment, I mused from my slightly elevated vantage point. His face was actually very well-proportioned. It was difficult to see past his big glasses and his shaggy hair, but he really was handsome. Perhaps there was something to that old movie trope about the shy girl with glasses becoming a total babe when she took them off.

Suddenly, his eyes flashed up to meet mine and I stiffened. It was almost as if I’d been caught ogling him, like he could read my thoughts somehow, but when he spoke I knew my mind was still safe. “What’s that face about?” he asked.

I sighed and tilted my head to the side, thinking. “You’ve got a really good face,” I blurted, unable to stop myself from saying it.

His cheeks flamed scarlet and he stiffened, taking a step back from me with wide eyes. “I-I-where did that come from?” he asked with a breathy laugh.

I shrugged and glanced down at my palm. He’d taken so long because beside his number he’d drawn a little doodle of himself, big glasses and shaggy hair and all.

I smiled at the drawing before meeting his eyes again. “I’ll save your number,” I said.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Alright,” he said, then offered a smile and made his way out into the hallway where he eventually faded from my view.

Slowly, I turned my attention to the envelope, pulling it open and fumbling with seeking fingers to find whatever was hidden inside. First, I found a letter on thick paper, bent into a trifold. I gave it a long, slow, stunned read.

You are cordially invited to attend Ori Technologies’ first annual charity ball.

Time: 19:00

Location: Coex Convention & Exhibition Center, Grand Ballroom

Attire: Formal

I gaped at the invitation, struggling to reason with the beautiful, scrawling font, the words that seemed to sit on top of my brain rather than seeping in like oil on water. Once I regained my senses, I returned to the envelope. I pulled out a sticky note, likely from Vante himself and likely the reason he’d opened the envelope in the first place.

Bring a date.

Without any further explanation, I knew precisely what he meant. This ball was the talk of Seoul, and I’d only heard about Vante attending the other day from the radio. So much information was demanding my attention, and yet I couldn’t focus on a single thing.

Except for that note, the thing that made it all make sense.

Without wasting another second, I rushed out across the floor and into the still-open elevator, already planning my route to Jungkook’s apartment.

The commute felt longer than usual, perhaps since I had something so important to do, but after what seemed like eternity, I arrived outside Jungkook’s door. Perhaps I could have called him first, but my brain had been too scattered to think of doing something like that. So instead, I stood slightly out of breath, clutching a wrinkling envelope in my fist as I raised it to pound on his door.

Jungkook was quick to answer, swinging the door open, but his eyes were downcast, looking at something in his own hand. When he lifted his eyes to meet mine I could see he was distracted, like his mind was unplugged from his body.

“Oh,” he said, giving a smile that felt too forced even for me. “Hi.”

I returned it and began smoothing the envelope on my thigh. “Jungkook, I have some crazy news,” I said, unable to contain the excitement in my voice. But what was I excited for really? The ball or what was to come of it? Guilt briefly seized my heart, but quickly fled as I glanced up and saw Jungkook’s expression go dark, brows furrowed. “What is it?” I asked.

He rested a white-knuckled hand on the doorframe, not meeting my eyes as he obviously stewed over something. “Y/N, have you been honest with me?” he asked.

I stiffened and scanned him, searching for anything that might allude to my undoing, but found only frustration in his expression. “What do you mean?”

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, turning to face me with knitted brows. “What’s this, Y/N?” he asked, opening his palm for me to see what he’d been holding.

I glanced down and saw, with a shock that stole all the warmth from my body, my student ID sitting perfectly in his outstretched hand.

The one I’d given the bouncer at that club…

159 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 6 years

Note

idk if you accept requests or not but if you do can u make an au where ot7 nd yn live together nd like all of them love each other so much but platonically????? also idk the shits they do on daily basis ??? if you dont then its okay jus wanna drop by nd say im so in love with your works ily💞💞

❄️ pairing: ot7 x reader

❄️ genre: nothing but plaTONIC LOVE,,,, SO CUTE,,, FLUFFIER THAN FRESHLY FALLEN SNOW, also jungkook is awful at wrapping

❄️ wordcount: 2.4k

❄️ notes: MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIENDS! i was actually going to post this in the afternoon but theN i wanted this to be like a surprise present under the tree for everyone so here i am posting it at literally 3 in the morning!!!!!!! so when u wake up in the morning not only will u be opening presents u will also be able to reAD this! YES i’m aware that i skipped out on a couple drabbles from the 12 drabbles of christmas and i am sO sorry but i’ve been spending time with family and y’all know how it is i hope you can forgive me! anyways enough blabbering from me happy holidays merry christmas happy hanukah happy nEw yEar happy whatever you celebrate i love u all and i can’t wait to go into the new year with you lovely people!

(gif isn’t mine!)

“is she awake?”

“obviously not,,, what time is it??”

“nearly 8 and y/n doesn’t wake up until like 12 when it’s the holidays”

you hear the sound of your curtains being pushed open and you can see your room brightening up even though you have an eye mask on

ugH is it already time to get up????

you were up til 3 watching christmas movies and yA you’re super pumped that it’s literally christmas right now and you get to open your presents under the tree but like,,,

you would prefer to do all of that later,, maybe at like 12

“someone should just push her off the bed”

“don’t do that you priCK”

“someone just wake her up!! i wanna open my preSENTS”

“well you guys take care of this because i have to go and prepare breakfast”

you’re tempted to just go back to sleep but u know that the boys will literally just stand there and talk to each other about how to wake you up

you reach up to lift your eye mask up and you’re met with the sight of seven smiling faces (except for yoongi because it’s too frickin early for him too and he’s tempted to crawl in and snuggle up with you)

“good morning” your voice is still thick with sleep and you pull your mask off and toss it aside before propping yourself up on your elbows and letting out a yawn “merry chris-“

“mERRY CHRISTMAS LET’S GO OPEN PRESENTS NOW” the next thing you know you’re being swePT out of bed and jungkook has you in his arms and he’s sprinting down the stairs like a madman

you shriek and cling onto him because you literally juSt woke up and your brain is still low-key in sleep mode and the world is spinNing and

jungkook plops you down on the couch and you squeak from the impact before suddenly you’re bouncing off the couch and tumbling to the ground

“oW” you groan and flip over onto your stomach on the ground before reaching down and rubbing at your sore butt

do butts have bones?? because you’re pretty sure all the bones in your ass are completely shattered right now

“omg get off of me whoever you are” you feel someone take a seat on your tender bum and you reach back blindly in a poor attempt to swat the person off

you immediately hear jimin’s jingly giggle and he slides off before patting your bum “sit up!!”

“no” you murmur with your cheek squished against the carpet

you could just fall asleep like this

yes

sleep

you want to

slee-

“gEt up!” tae grabs your waist and pulls you up and sets you down on the couch next to yoongi who is (this) close to falling asleep

you let out another yawn and rest your head against yoongi’s shoulder and he slips an arm around your waist so that the both of you are comfortable

you never thought yoongi was the cuddling type but it turns out he really reaLLy is which is something u definitely don’t mind

“you two - it’s christmas!!! liven up a little!” namjoon pats the tops of your guys’ head and you grumble in response

“y/n you should open my present first!” tae plops a neat little box onto your lap and you blink down at it before humming and nodding

you pull away from yoongi and he groans quietly at the loss of warmth

“thank you for the gift, tae” you smile sleepily and reach up to pat your cheeks to wake yourself up

hoO

okay

christmas morning

let’s do this

you tear the bright wrapping paper to pieces and immediately feel a lot more energised when you see what tae got u for christmas “i knitted a scarf for you and i have a matching one so noW you too can be a fashionista”

“how long did it take you to make this??” you pull it out of the box and look closely at the stitching

obviously there are a couple missing stitches but that gives the scarf character and it’s oddly endearing

tae stitched in pretty neutral grandpa-y shades but it totally works and it looks v v trendy

“i’m going to wear this noW” you grin and wrap it around your neck and that’s when u notice the scent

tae sprayed some of his fancy gucci cologne on this tOO

you might have to steal some from him when the scent eventually fades away

“y/n! a nintendo swiTCH R U KIDDING ME” jungkook tackles you in a hug before jumping up and down excitedly and hugging the box to his chest “can i play it now???” he gasps and you can’t help but laugh at how childish he’s acting “why am i asking u for ur permission this is mINE NOW also i have a gift for u somewhere under the tree”

you look under the tree and u immediately recognise all the presents that are from kook because of the (no offence) poor wrapping skills

one of them is just wrapped up completely in duct tape like how r u supposed to open that up without losing a finger

hopefully that one isn’t yours (spoiler alert: it is yours)

“here’s my first gift to you guys-“ jin walks out of the kitchen carrying a tray of mugs “hot cocoa, anyone?”

the boys immediately flocK to jin like a group of seagulls when they spot a single french fry on the ground

“ya ya yA CALM DOwN before i drop the tray!” he scolds

“hyung, that’s my mug!”

“no it’s not, it’s mine! y/n got me the one with snowflakes, remember??”

“yours is the one with the christmas lights you dummy now hand it over”

“no! get your hands off mY mug!!”

“does it really matter whose mug is whoSE but also sorry jimin kook is right yours is the one with the christmas lights and not the snowflakes ” jin nudges the two bickering boys out of the way and heads over to you and yoongi

“yoongi - yours has coffee in it”

“oh thank god” yoongi grabs his mug and immediately takes a sip from it before letting out a satisfied sigh

“and y/n - yours has a sprinkle of cinnamon in it and extra marshmallows” you take the mug from the tray excitedly

“you’re too nice to me” you reach up to pinch jin’s cheek and he scowls at you

“teLL me about it”

“come and open some of your presents! you can make breakfast later”

“the pancake batter doEs need to set for a while so i suppose i can open up some gifts” jin sets the tray down on the coffee table before dusting his hands off “okay so which one is mine”

“u got more than one, silly. open my gift first!! it’s that big box in the corner” you take a sip of your cocoa oH ShiT this is good ur gonna need jin to make at least a gallon of this for u every week

“oH A BIG box” jin gasps and steps over the other boys as he makes his way over to it

he bends down and grunts as he lifts it up “jesus y/n what did you get me??? a ton of bricks???” he huffs and plops it back down on the ground and you’re like bE CAREFUL

jin doesn’t take very long to unwrap the gift and- “A NEW MIXER” he literally squEaLs with glee and you’re pretty sure your ears are bleeding “you’re right kook we should’ve opened presents earlier because then i could’ve used this baby to make the pancake batter”

look

last year all of your gifts were kind of pathetic compared to everything the boys were giving you and even tho they all insisted they lovEd their gifts you were like ://///// so thIS YEAR you decided to go all out and just get EVERYThing you thought the boys would like and u know what so far you are killing it girl

santa clause whO

also the boys did a really good job with all of your gifts!!

namjoon got you a new journal for the new year

jimin got you fairy lights AND a brand new bedside lamp that’s super adorable

hoseok got you a super suPER cool poster to hang up in your room he hired an artist to paint you as snow white and the boys as the seven dwarves and the captions says ‘y/n and the seven idiots’

taheyung knitted you a scarf

jin got you this fancy silky robe that you’ll definitely be wearing everyday after you come home from work

yoongi got you a new pair of headphones because he’s sick of seeing you use those godawful apple earbuds from like 2008

and last but not least

jungkook got you-

“oh, this is so cute!” you coo as you pull the mug out of the mess of duct tape

it’s a mug with a picture of you and the boys celebrating your birthday this year

you’re sat in the middle laughing your ass off with watery eyes and a crinkled nose with the boys surrounding you and jungkook is swiping frosting off the side of the cake and jimin’s yanking his arm back and jin’s trying to light the candles and tae is sitting on your lap and hoseok is sitting on taE’s lap and namjOon is pointing at the camera (because it was on timer mode and nO one was ready for the picture) and yoongi has his face in his hands looking like he regrets everything

it’s perfectly imperfect if that makes any sense

“thank you kook” you grin and squish a couple kisses to his cheek before looking at the picture again

it’s sO cute and also it makes you thank the gods because like,, how lucky are you that you get to spend every day with these dumbasses that you love and adore so dang much

“i wish it could be christmas everyday” hoseok sighs and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth

“i don’t. my wallet would hate me.” yoongi snorts and steals a blueberry off your plate

you nudge it closer to him before leaning back against your chair and rubbing your stomach “i think i’m about to explode” you groan

“i told you not to force that fourth pancake down” jin sighs as he scrubs away at the dishes

“i can’t help it when your food is sO good” you plop your plate down in the sink with a clang

and then u finally notice

“it’S SNOWING” you gasp as you look out the kitchen window

“you didn’t notice??” tae raises a brow and they all watch as you sprint to the living room to puSh all the curtains open

and WOW

thick thiCK blankets of snow covering every surface while snowflakes continue to flutter down to the ground

the backyard is just all WHITE AND YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED BEFORE

“we were thinking after breakfast we could go out and play around in the snow if you wanted-“

“oF COURSE I DO” for some reason you’re unable to lower your voice because that’s how excited you are

in fact you’re so excited u can’t even wait to change out of your PJs and you’re already slipping your coat and beanie on

“c’mon people let’s move let’s moVE jin you can wash the dishes later kook u can play the nintendo later let’s get a moVE ON” you clap your hands together and the boys know there’s no changing your mind at this point

if u wanna go out in ur PJs you’re going to go out in your PJs

“y/n, watch it!” jimin scolds when you nearly knock into his and tae’s snowman after trying to avoid yet another one of kook’s snowballs

“sorry jimin!!” you apologize before bursting into giggles when jungkook starts sprinting towards you clutching a snowball the size of a bouLDER

you duck down instinctively when he hurls it in your direction and-

“jeon jungkook you brat i’m going to kiLL YOU” yoongi roars when the snowball hiTS him and the wetness starts seeping into his sweater

jungkook laughs gleefully and tries his best to flee (it’s hard running in thick layers of snOW) as yoongi starts chasing him around

jin and namjoon are standing by the doors sipping on their hot cocoa and occasionally bursting into laughter at one of your guys’ antics

hoseok has been lying on the ground making snow angels for the past 20 minutes

he’s literally made like 10 snow angels already but he’s having fun so it’s okay

you screech when jungkook pelts you in the faCe with a snowball and you immediately feel like your face is going to freeze over

you end up tackling kook to the ground and u shove snow right into his face and jungkook grins before starting to dig his fingers into your sides to tickle you

“alright aLRIGHT everyone back into the house because there are dishes to wash and wrapping paper to throw away AND i have to get started on dinner and i need all the help i can get!” jin calls out and slides the door open to step back inside “everyone back in this house in 30 seconds otherwise i will not hesitate to lock you outside in the cold!”

jungkook fLIps you over his shoulder when you trip over the snow yet again because of your innate klutziness

you giggle and whack his butt

best christmas ever

:•)

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cherry4colas · 5 years

Text

the new NEW video has my soul thanks

don’t expect this to be the last post with me freaking out about sanders sides

SO THE NEW EPISODE

SPOILERS FOR DEALING WITH INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS!!!!!

more below the cut uwu

- REMUS. FREAKING REMUS. I LOVE MY STINKY SON, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. HE DESERVES ALL THE L O V E- cough - I love Remus. All the brotherly parallels are amazing, with “Have you ever imagined killing your brother?” and then two seconds later, Roman’s been knocked out by a freAKING MACE. BY. HIS. B R O T H E R. amazing. and we have the Cain and Able parallel and the Romulus and Remus parallel. just,, amazing work. a m a z i n g w o r k. - i love how remus affects each side depending how much they fear him. Roman must fear his brother a freaking lot since he was out for 97% of the video, but logan was like “oh, ninja star in my head? i’ve experienced worse.” - speaking of logan, mY SON WAS CALLED COOL. UH, YES?!?!? this video is pushing roman closer to his character arc and is pushing logan’s back. and thank god for that. we’ve had to experience over a year of roman angst, and while i love myself some good ol’ ANGST, i really just want it to come tumbling ouT! blurt it out, if its easier! like ripping... thE SWORD FROM THE STONE!!!1 i’m sorry. - patton didn’t have a very big role in this episode, but i still loved him. im definitely gonna use “singing to myself cause im not uncomfortable at all” in the future- - back to logan, he wAS SO COOL IN THIS EPISODE?!?!? LIKE, HIM SOFTLY EXPLAINING THINGS TO THE OTHER SIDES MAKES ME SO HAPPYYYY!!!!!! - roman a n g s t, man. the funhouse mirror thing made my heart hurt ajskjak- - VIRGIL. - V I R G I L . - i mean i feel like we been knew, but v I R G I L - and he just sinks out like,, what if thomas hates him now? what if it all goes back to pre-accepting anxiety? that’d make me saaadd - remus. I just,, don’t know how to start explaining him - i love him. I don’t love to hate him and i don’t hate that i love him, I LOVE HIM! the “theres a snake in my b U T T!” always gets me! deceit what’re you doing down there- - i also feel like there’s some m a j o r dark side angst going on here and I’m living for it. - I mean, just think about it. The dark sides are never really listened to, right? And they’re hated. But now, one of them left, and guess what? He’s getting listed to. He’s loved. Thomas and the light sides care about him. Obviously, they’d get jealous. Why should he get loved if they’re just like him? Technically. So, they try to force Virgil to come out and tell Thomas about his past. “It takes a liar to know a liar.” “I wouldn’t hide anything from you!” Together, Deceit and Remus push Virgil to tell Thomas about being one of the Others. Because, Thomas “hates” the others. now that he knows Virge used to be one of them, wouldn’t he hate Virgil too? They’re bitter and they want to get back at Virge for betraying them. - virgil’s face when roman comes back - virgil’s face when logan’s getting thanked for being so coOl - roman apologizing to logan - “you’re not dead!” wow, thanks pat - virgil showing concern for roman sorry, my multishipper is showing - i’d like to point out how during the 12 days of chrismas, roman mentioned naked aunt patty, and during the song, remus bent down a moment and a sticky note behind him said “aunt patty naked.” just wanna point that out - speaking of the song, wOW ITS AMAZING! its really catchy and- ugh, good job joan! props to them! - “everything is okay.” wow okay my heart just- wow - thomas is just a whole mood and a half thank you very much - “despite his best efforts virgil could never stop being the bad guy!-” -i’m probably missing some stuff bc the episodes so freaking amazing and this post is a mess bc im a mess but like, i love the entire 41 minutes and 17 seconds - i really loved this entire episode and I cannot wait for the next episode. tho, take ur time, thomas and the crew. ur doing great, but don’t overwork yourself. and thomas, get some sleep. you uploaded at like 2am - and i saw some people in the comments of the video complaining about remus. like, if you don’t like him, then whatever, thats your opinion. but, remus did not “make sanders sides more mature” and “less funny.” there are content warnings in the beginning, so if you’re like 7 years old, then you should know what to expect. yeah, there were mature jokes, but there have always been mature jokes. take “virgan” as an example. personally, i love remus and will protect the stinky boi with my entire being. and ss isn’t “less funny.” this was literally one episode. yeah, thomas is probably going to discuss more heavy topics later, but that shouldn’t make a difference - okay i’m done ranting- - this post is a mess but so are my emotions after watching the new NEW episode so-

#ts spoilers #i freaking love remus fight me #sanders sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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ernmark · 7 years

Note

hey so I am v much Not a writer but I got this plot bunny and I shall donate it to u in case it tickles ur fancies, so if ur in the mood for some Sad Nureyev: Ramses O'Flaherty being informed (by Strong?) of Juno's assumed post Martian desert death while at a post election fancy party, then being distracted by a clatter nearby, as a tall, extremely beautiful, and only sliiightly suspicious waiter drops his tray in shock... Nureyev's subsequent actions/reactions up to you :p

I’ve already mentioned to you how much I love the idea of this prompt. Ramses and Peter are two incredibly dangerous people who I would just love to put in the same room together.

Mayor Ramses O’Flaherty hasn’t gotten this far by getting caught off guard.

He knows the name of the woman who marches past security with all the inevitable gravity and force of a star going supernova. He knows her name, her living situation, and the promise that Steel made her on his behalf. And so he knows that trying to stop her would accomplish nothing except to draw out the inevitable.

“Tell security to let her through,” he says to his personal assistant. “And wire a hundred and fifty thousand credits into her account. She’s an employee, and I intend to see her paid.”

He signals for his water to be refilled and continues his dinner. It’s one of the few indulgences he allows himself, but even this would seem paltry compared to his predecessors– fish and steamed vegetables, dark bread and butter. He will do many things, but he won’t feast on taxpayer credits.

His personal assistant sends feeds from the security cameras to track the woman’s progress. The mayoral mansion is enormous, but she makes good time; he only manages to catch a few glimpses of her in any detail before she moves out of focus.

Her hand is expertly bandaged, but the dressing is old and dirty, all but entirely bled through. She looks like she hasn’t bathed in a week, though there’s a sheen of gloss uneven on her lips. She didn’t come here directly, it seems– no, first she made a stop elsewhere, to reassure someone who kissed her thoroughly when they saw her. Her fiancee, if Ramses had to guess.

A well-meaning member of the staff steps into her path.

“Ma’am, do you have an appointment? I’m afraid the mayor is very busy at the moment, but if you could just–”

“I don’t give a shit how busy he is,” she snarls. “There are lives on his hands, and he’s not walking away from this. Pilot Pereyra is dead because of him. Juno Steel is dead–”

She’s still shouting, but Ramses’ attention is diverted by the crack of broken glass.

One of the waiters stands frozen, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging half open. For a moment, he doesn’t even seem to notice the shattered pitcher at his feet or the cold water soaking into his shoes. Then the moment passes, and he scrambles to clean it up.

“My apologies,” he says quickly. “My grip must have slipped. I’ll just fetch a dustpan–”

He isn’t even at the door before Ramses signals his personal assistant. “Zaynab, make sure that young man is alright.” He gives Zaynab a meaningful glance, and she understands it intrinsically: don’t let him leave.

The waiter will be dealt with later. For now, he must see to Alessandra Strong.

The moment Strong is sent on her way, Ramses has Zaynab’s report in his hands. Once again, he isn’t surprised: on closer examination, the waiter who dropped the pitcher isn’t the same one who was vetted by the security team. He’s tried to sneak away twice since he was detained, but security has been watching him like a Mercurian falcon. He hasn’t had a chance to properly escape by the time Ramses returns to his office.

The stranger looks up when Ramses arrives– frightened and chagrined, not like a thief who’s been caught in the act, but like a busboy about to be disciplined for a job poorly done. “Mayor O’Flaherty, sir. You wanted to see me, sir?”

He’s even trembling. That’s a nice touch.

“I did.” Ramses strides across the office and sits in his chair. “It was Mister Ivy, wasn’t it? Richard?”

“Yes, sir.” The words tumble out of his mouth. “I’m so sorry about the pitcher, sir. I promise I didn’t mean to break it, sir. I’ll take it out of my pay, I swear, just please, I need this job–”

Ramses raises a hand in reassurance. “I’m not angry with you, Richard. I only wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked shaken.”

“I appreciate your worrying about me, but it’s nothing, really,” the man says too quickly. That’s his strategy of choice, it seems– talk fast enough to sweep away his mark with the flow of the conversation. The only way to control the course is to stop him from talking. “Loud noises have always had that effect on me, and–”

“I’m sure they do,” Ramses says. “But that isn’t the reason why you dropped it, is it?”

“My mother always did say I had butterfingers.”

Ramses continues over him. “You know Juno Steel, don’t you?”

For a fraction of a second, Richard Ivy looks like he’s stepped barefoot on broken glass, and then his face rights itself into a look of sincere confusion. “Who?”

Ramses can’t help the smile that quirks his lips. “You’re a good actor, I’ll give you that. Not half bad looking, either. You’re wasted in a waiter’s uniform; have you ever considered the silver screen?”

The change of direction is abrupt, but it’s not enough to make him break character. Richard Ivy ducks his head, a flustered blush coloring his cheeks, every inch the ingenue who was just handed his big break on a silver platter. “Oh, I’m not– I couldn’t–”

Ramses jumps tracks again. “So tell me, how do you know Juno Steel?”

“I– I–” Ivy lowers his eyes and he bows his head in a pantomime of surrender. “I don’t know him. Not well. Last year there was a murder where I worked; I helped him solve the case.” He lets the words linger in the air, carrying the suggestion of other ways he might have helped the detective. “Last I heard, he was working for you. And I thought, if I got a job here, maybe I could see him again.”

Ramses rises from his desk, walking toward the younger man with all the gravity of grief and age.

Richard Ivy looks up at him from under a heavy brow. “Is he… really gone?”

Ramses wasn’t exaggerating about the man’s skill as an actor. The cast of his eyes, the tremor in his voice, the slump of his shoulders– every detail is perfect. Ramses knows it’s a lie, but it’s so expertly spun that he wants to believe it. He’s good.

It makes it that much easier for Ramses to slip into his own part. He lays a comforting hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Juno’s a stubborn one. If there’s a way to survive, he’ll find it, just for spite.”

“But that woman said he– she said–” His voice catches perfectly.

“Miss Strong has every reason to be upset with me,” Ramses sighs. “The last time she saw Juno, he was alone in the desert. There aren’t many people who could come out of that alive. But Juno…” He lets the sentence hang in the air, inviting the other man to make the next move.

And he does, all bright and sparkling with teary-eyed hope. “So there’s still a chance? You’re going to go looking for him?”

That’s not what he wants; he’s fishing for more information. Ramses takes a chance and offers him another nibble. “As much as I want to, I’m afraid it isn’t that simple. Based on where he was last seen alive, his best chance is to head to the Cerberus Province. If he’s alive, that’s where I’ll find him. But you have to understand the position that puts me in. If I send a car to look for him, it’ll be stripped down to the screws and sold for scrap before it’s in sight of that lighthouse. If they find out the mayor of Hyperion City wants Juno back, he’s just as likely to be taken hostage and ransomed back, possibly in pieces. As much as I want to rescue him, I would only be putting him in more danger. My hands are tied.”

There’s a calculating gleam in the man’s eye. He’s already got what he needs, and that’s got him confident. He’s willing to push his luck. “What if… what if it wasn’t you?”

“Exactly what are you saying?” Ramses asks, because these things only work if the mark thinks it’s his idea.

“I could go,” he says, his voice growing more certain with every syllable. “There would be no point of ransoming him off to me. I’m nobody.”

That much, at least, is true. Zaynab’s preliminary background check has found half a dozen identities tied to this man, all of them less than a decade old. He would have an easier time than most navigating the back alleys of the Cerberus Province.

“Do you understand what you’re saying?” Ramses asks unnecessarily. “That would be incredibly dangerous.”

“I could do it.” His voice is cracked with stifled fear, but it’s heavy with determination. “For Juno, I could do it.”

This Richard Ivy, or Perseus Shah, or Duke Rose, or whoever he is– he’s probably fairly proud of himself right now, thinking that he’s broken in here and convinced Ramses to give him all the information he needs to get what he wants. And while he goes off playing hero for his leading lady, Ramses will get his bodyguard back– all without any paper trail, any expenses, any official orders, anything whatsoever to tie him to the staining corruption of the Cerberus province.

It’s like that ancient Earth proverb: diplomacy is the art of letting everyone have your way.

#that-figures #the penumbra podcast #writing prompt #fanfiction #100

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femslashy · 7 years

Text

begin again | chapter two

It’s been three years since Baz left the sleepy Isle of Mage to attend university in London, and he hasn’t regretted a thing--except maybe leaving Simon behind. Convinced he’ll never be forgiven, Baz refuses to even visit until a frantic phone call from his stepmother sends him running home. Once there, Baz is forced to confront his past, question the future, and maybe, just maybe, get that second chance he’s always desired.

genre(s): angst+fluff+smut (in later chapters)

chapter length: 1743 words

triggers/warnings: none for this chapter

author’s note: a giant thank you to @amandaisnotwriting & @rainbowbaz for the beta/britpicking! full acknowledgments will be posted with the last chapter

(@arituzz i meant to get this chapter out on your birthday and i didn’t but it’s still dedicated to you 💜💜 happy belated bday!!)

I’m still here.

I’m still in Watford, still on the island, and I tell myself it’s because Daphne is anxious and scared, and won’t leave my father’s side. I tell myself it’s so Andrea can have a holiday alone with her girlfriend without me third-wheeling. I tell myself it's because my siblings miss me.

(I tell myself and I tell myself and I tell myself, like if I do it enough, I might actually be telling the truth.)

On the subject of Daphne, I’d nearly given her a heart attack of her own when I came down for breakfast my second day back with bruises under my eyes and swelling around my nose. She wouldn’t stop stealing glances at me as I ate my eggs, but didn’t ask any questions. (Not that I would have told her anything. As far as my parents knew, Simon and I were secondary school rivals who could barely stand to be in the same room together.) (I never bothered to correct them when those circumstances changed.)

One week—and many cold compresses from Vera—later, the swelling is gone, but the bruising still remains. I scrunch up my face at my reflection in the mirror, hissing as I remember why I shouldn't do that. Fuck Simon.

I’d just wanted to push him a bit, see if he would yell. In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. Simon’s never fought with his words, and me egging him on could have only ended one way. I just wish it hadn’t involved my nose.

I haven’t shown Andrea yet. I’m afraid she’ll think it’s the reason I’ve cancelled on our holiday. Maybe I should, actually. Then I won’t have to admit the real (much worse) reason. Except she’d just cover up the bruises and drag me to the beach anyway—one of the downsides of being friends with a makeup artist; you can never get out of social gatherings because of your appearance. (That doesn’t mean I don’t try.) (It never works.)

After determining my reflection a lost cause, I leave the bathroom, bumping into Daphne in the hallway.

“Oh, Baz,” she says once she notices it’s me, “I was just looking for you. Can you take the twins to football club again today?”

I nod, because of course I will. I can’t say I intended to spend my hols as a nanny, but I’m finding that I don’t mind all that much. It gives me something to do. (It gives me excuses.)

Normally Daphne would be the one taking them places, but my father’s heart attack had shaken her more than I’d initially realised. According to Vera, she’d been out shopping for most of the day when it happened—apparently she and my father had a row—and she’d returned just in time to see him being loaded onto an ambulance.

She’s been glued to his side since he came home. As if on cue, Cecily and Roseline—my six year old half-sisters—come tumbling out of their room. They’re followed closely by Winston, Daphne’s black and tan corgi, who makes a beeline for me almost immediately. I brace myself for an assault on my ankles, but before he can get to me Daphne’s scooping him up, admonishing him in sickening baby talk while he licks at her face. “Why is that dog so obsessed with me?” “He just wants to be your friend,” she replies, and I frown—I don’t like dogs, and I especially don’t like Winston. (This has done nothing to dissuade his love for me.)

“I don’t want to be his friend.”

Daphne just shakes her head and laughs—like she always does when I voice my opinion on her dog—and looks past me at the twins. “Are you two ready to go?”

They nod.

“Do you have your bags ready?”

Wide-eyed, they run off—presumably in the direction of the bags, and I grab the keys, rolling my eyes at Daphne as she tries to get Winston to give me a kiss goodbye.

***

We’re barely out of the garage when Cecily lunges forward and shoves a CD in my face. “Play this.”

“No,” I say flatly as I bat it away, “no, we are not listening to One Direction. And put on your seatbelt.”

“But you said no yesterday. And the day before,” she whines.

“And I’m saying it again: no.” “I’ll tell Mum you’re being mean.” “I don’t care.” “I’ll scream.” “I’d rather listen to that. Seatbelt. Now.”

“You’re in trouble,” Roseline sing-songs; Cecily drops the CD and swats at her.

“Cece! Leave her alone,” I snap.

Roseline looks smug, and Cecily sulks and kicks my seat. “I want my music.” “Put your seatbelt on.”

She does. “Can I have my music now?”

“No.”

She continues to kick my seat for the duration of the trip, sticking her tongue out whenever I glance in the rearview mirror.

It’s a long drive.

***

As soon as we arrive, the twins jump out of the car and run to the pitch, screaming and jumping around once they reach their friends. I go to say hello to Coach Minos; only it’s not Coach Minos standing next to the watercooler. It’s Simon.

“What are you doing here?”

He jumps, and the ball he’d been bouncing on his knees falls to the ground. “Hey, Baz.”

“What are you doing here?” I repeat. “Where’s Coach Minos?”

Simon shrugs. “Dunno. He just asked me to fill in, so I am.”

“But you’re terrible at football.”

“I still know how to play,” he says defensively, “I can still help. And I’m not that terrible.”

I scoff. “I think we played enough together for me to be a fair judge.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I’m remembering how those games usually ended—with tackles and kisses and me accusing him of cheating. (Judging by the look on Simon’s face, so is he.)

“I, um, I have to go now. The kids need me. I’ll be…” he points in the direction of the pitch, “there.”

“Right. And I’ll be…” I gesture to the stands where the other parents are sat, “there.”

Simon nods and jogs off. I force myself not to watch his retreating figure (or the way his back muscles flex under his shirt) and find a place to sit down, away from everyone. I spend the next hour pretending to be engrossed with my phone, and trying not to stare at Simon.

(I don’t succeed.)

***

After that, Simon is everywhere.

At the pharmacy when I’m picking up Mordelia’s allergy medication. At the bakery where he swipes two of my scones. Still filling in for Coach Minos at the twins’ football club. Running on the beach where I’m playing with Alfie. Stopping his run to build a sandcastle with Alfie. Knocking over said sandcastle with Alfie and immediately earning himself a best friend for life. (Which isn’t that impressive, considering Alfie’s three and loves everyone.)

I’m lying on the floor in my room when my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket, alerting me to a new message from Andrea, my flatmate back in London. (I suppose you could call her my best friend—she does—but that’s such a juvenile term that I avoid it whenever possible.) (Which is always.)

hows the isle of exbfs

Don’t call it that. Boring.

masochist just come home if its that terrible

I didn’t say it was terrible.

I almost pocket my phone then, mostly because I don’t want to deal with her questions right now, and a little bit because I’m afraid I’ll spill everything.

Andrea’s shockingly good at getting me to confess things.

I saw Simon today.

(Sometimes without even trying.)

!!! is that good??

My fingers hover over the screen as I contemplate my answer. I don’t know

are u going to see him again?? I’m not. wht not??? *why

Because it’s not like that. I didn’t mean to see him.

but u wanted to u wanted to see him right??

It’s not like that. We’re not like that.

but u want to be I don’t want to talk about it. Her next message is just a picture, one of those inspirational quotes that she’s so fond of. It reads: Everything you want is on the other side of fear. The paper is grey and the frame is black, stark against the white wall. It’s very aesthetic, very Andrea, and very much not what I want to think about right now. I scowl as I type my response. I’m not scared. She responds with a gif of a laughing duck. alright luv And it’s not what you think. I don’t want Simon. who mentioned wanting simon ths isnt about wanting simon Andrea. i didnt bring up wanting simon u brought up wanting god baz stop talking about wanting simon all the time its embarrassing ur better than thsi grosd *gross baz baz basil dont be scared basil basilton bazzybazzybazzy i know ur reading these philippa says i need to leave you alone now oh she just took her top off what a clever distraction

The messages stop after that (thank you Philippa), and I set my phone back on my stomach. The floor isn’t the most comfortable place to lie down, but I can’t bring myself to get on the bed. It’s bad enough that I have to sleep there, in the ancient four-poster, with its dark red canopy, and gargoyles. (An excessive amount of gargoyles, really.)

I’m weighing up the pros and cons of sleeping on the floor when I feel a new message coming through. I snort and pick it up to tease Andrea about finishing too quickly—except it’s not from her.

I didn’t even know Simon still had my number, if I’m honest, and my heart is pounding in my ears as I read his words.

If I answer this, if I say yes, then we’ll cross the line from casual-friends-who-bump-into-each-other-sometimes to Friends Who Text, and there’ll be no going back—not without the potential for fallout. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I even want to do. My hands are shaking so badly that I can feel my phone beginning to slip from my grasp.

Everything you want is on the other side of fear. I take a deep breath, curse Andrea for jinxing me, and reply.

chapter three

#snowbaz #carry on #snowbaz fanfiction #carry on fanfiction #fic begin again #track that tag to stay updated!#exes to lovers

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glowstickia · 7 years

Note

isabel explaining her dead grandpa like u said in ur conspiracy post!!

*RUNS FULL SPEED AND JUMP KICKS DOWN DOOR* OH SHIT

Isabel ‘Trouble’ Guerra

[AO3]

Isabel exhaled as the massive dark creature with glowing red eyes and large wingspan escaped into the refuge of the forest. Red energy faded from her hands as it transferred to her shoulders. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Ya know, I’m starting to wonder if you attract that thing with your magnetic personality.”

Max grumbled as he sat up. He winced as he rolled his left shoulder a bit. “It was funny the first dozen times.”

Isabel snorted as she held out her hand to him. He clapped his hand against hers as she helped pull him to his feet. Her eyes scanned the forest floor, brow furrowed until she spotted the loud purple and reds of her umbrella poking out from underneath a pile of pine needles. “Not my fault you seem to attract trouble.” She called over her shoulder as she picked up the tool.

Max rolled his eyes and pulled his bat out from the rusted metal it suddenly collected. He frowned and shook it. “So, does that make you trouble?”

She spun around and grinned. “How’d you know ‘trouble’ was my middle name?” she said, swinging her umbrella onto her shoulders. “Which is definitely better than having it be Well.”

Max blinked as he stared at her puzzled for a moment. “What do you mean-OH.” He rubbed his hand on his face. Isabel’s grin widened. He looked at her through his fingers. “Stop that with your face. It’s almost as creepy as PJ’s.”

“Ouch. Not a fan of smiles are you Grumpy Flips.”

He groaned and briefly glanced at the pink hues of the sky. “Don’t you have a curfew?”

Isabel’s lips thinned. Her eyes avoiding his. “We’d better report back to Spender and call it a night.”

Max raised an eyebrow, but followed close behind. He stayed silent. For the most part. “I take it no training tonight?”

She didn’t say a word.

His eyes glanced up. Watching the branches full of leaves and pine needles pass overhead. “Think that bird, emu, moth, thing will come back?” His grip on his bat tightened.

No response.

He pressed his lips together and hummed. “Okay, gonna take your weird silence as a yes. After all seen that thing like, what? Four times now in the past month, month and a half?” Max lowered his bat. His mind going a mile a minute. “Ya know, I wish you would’ve told me ghosts don’t sleep after the whole stealing a plunger and throwing a small PainKiller at my face. Would’ve saved me a few sleepless nights of waiting for PJ to fall asleep.”

He swung his bat to the side, lightly tapping trees as they passed. “Speaking of him, I really need to know a couple of things before we meet up with Spender again.”

Isabel’s pace slowed, and for the first time in the moment of the one sided conversation, she looked over at him. Intrigue and confusion read clearly on her face.

Max coughed. He didn’t expect this. “Well, I was hoping maybe you could help me? The ghost I was talking about, PJ, he uh, really wants me to find him a tool that shoots lazers. It’s…why I asked about the whole ghosts and tools thing on the train.”

Isabel stopped walking. Her brow scrunched as she processed his words. “What’s his color again?”

Max pulled at his hat. “Purple.”

She hummed. “We do have a lot of tools in the archive.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Grandpa won’t notice if a purple tool got up and left. He doesn’t pay much attention unless its red.“

Max brightened for a moment, but something nagged at his thoughts. “Why the red tools?”

“Huh?”

He gestured with his free hand. “Like, why does he care about the red ones if you guys have so many? Is he like, part dragon or something for hoarding so many tools.” He snorted at his own joke.

She stared at him for a brief moment and rubbed her temple. “I’ve asked him but he’s always been cryptic about it just like-” Isabel paused and adjusted the umbrella on her arm, “The Dojo houses a lot of students. He usually matches them up with one when he thinks their ready or something.“

Max laughed. "Seems like I don’t get the luxury of being trained under a roof of expert spec users.” He swung his bat up and let it fall back to his side. “All I got was magnet powers.”

Isabel lightly punched his shoulder. “Hey now, you don’t need to train there. You got one of the best.” She flexed one of her arms. Red energy wrapped around her arm as she flexed.

He smirked. “I see, you’re just hogging me all to yourself.” She pulled down Max’s hat and blinded him. “HEY!”

Isabel laughed as he tugged his hat back into place, not over his eyes. “I can do a much better job of getting a newbie into shape than he can.” She opened then closed her mouth. “And well, he has enough students as is.”

Max adjusted his hat a little more before feeling satisfied with it. "So do you guys all live in that massive house or-?”

Isabel shrugged. “Yeah, most who train under Gramps live there too.”

“I see…” he nodded then stopped, as her eyebrow raised slightly. “I’ve never set foot out of Spender’s car whenever we pick you and Ed up.”

“Oh.”

“So, yeah. Haven’t really seen much except for a Spectral Light Show coming from your massive house.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t even know much about your grandfather except that he’s trains other spectrals really.”

Red energy flared off of her shoulders as they tightened. “Well, you’re not missing much.” She gave a lop sided grin. “Hasn’t changed in years, it’s a wonder he’s still around.”

Max glanced at her fingers as they twitched, tugging at her jacket. Something gnawed at his thoughts. “He lives with you still right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” She nodded. “He wanders around every night, making sure everyone is in their rooms and not off doing missions…” She looked at the sky. It was turning purple. “Speaking of which we’d better get moving.”

Max stood, staring at her. “Does he ever give you guys a break?”

Isabel walked on as she adjusted her jacket. “Mmmm well there are meals if that’s what your asking.”

Max jogged up to her upon realizing she wasn’t stopping. “He sounds a bit of a night person. Heck, I’d want to sleep in during the day too.”

“What? He doesn’t sleep-” Isabel snapped her mouth shut.

Something clicked.

“You wanna talk about it or-“

Words tumbled out of her mouth before she could process her thoughts. "I’m good. I’m fine. It’s not like Gramps doesn’t think I’m good enough when I do exactly what I ask or that he’s a gho-” her hands immediately slapped over her mouth.

“Um…”

Max opened and closed his mouth. After a few moments of silence and watching her spectral energy simmer a bit, he asked again. “You sure you don’t want to?"

She walked a little farther, not saying a word. Max followed suit. They passed under a weeping willow before Isabel spoke again."I haven’t told Ed….but I think it’s cause he already knows. Grandpa’s been….like this for a long, long time.”

Max stared at her, his eyes micro scanning her, trying to read her face. “I-…so on the ghost train…”

“Sometimes they can use tools. And last for a really long time.” Isabel said, recalling her words that night. She nodded, “Yeah. He’s a Spectral Master after all.”

“So, since he’s a ghost…how long?”

She shrugged. “Its been…a while.” She brushed her falling hair to the side. “I don’t think anyone noticed though. Probably how he wants it.” A sigh escaped her lips. Her shoulders slumped as she leaned on the weeping willow. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Max glanced briefly at her hand before grabbing her wrist and gently squeezing it. “I won’t.”

“I promise.”

#paranatural #pnat #pnat fic #glow writes #isabel guerra #max puckett #*jazz hands* holy shit this took forever because SEGWAYS #maxbel #gasoline believer series

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wittybitchesmag · 8 years

Photo

New Post has been published on https://www.wittybitches.com/2017/01/the-science-of-cute/

The Science of Cute

On 14 April 2016, a 6.2 magnitude earthquake hit Japan’s southernmost island of Kyushu, toppling buildings and sending residents rushing into the streets. Hundreds of aftershocks – one an even stronger 7.0 quake – continued for days, killing 49 people, injuring 1,500 and forcing tens of thousands from their homes.

News spread immediately around the globe on social media.

“Earthquake just happened,” Margie Tam posted from Hong Kong. “R u ok kumamon?”

“Are Kumamon and his friends safe?” wondered Eric Tang, a college student.

“Pray for Kumamoto & Kumamon,” wrote Ming Jang Lee from Thailand, a phrase that would be repeated thousands of times.

Kumamoto is a city of 700,000 in a largely agricultural province in southwestern Japan.

But what, or more precisely who, is Kumamon? And why in the wake of an immense natural disaster did concern for earthquake victims focus on him, specifically?

That’s a bit more complicated.

◊◊◊◊◊◊◊

It is 12 March 2016, one month before the earthquake. Kumamon bounds onto an outdoor stage at the opening event of his birthday party in Kumamoto. About 150 guests – mostly women – cheer, clap and whistle.

What makes something so irresistibly cute that you need to touch, cuddle or play with it?

Kumamon waves and bows. He is about 1.5 metres tall, with black glossy fur, circular red cheeks and wide, staring eyes. He’s dressed for the occasion in a white satin dinner jacket trimmed in silver and a red bow tie.

One woman in the crowd holds a Kumamon doll swaddled in a baby blanket. Another has dressed her doll in a grey outfit matching her own. She says it took her a month to sew. A number of fans have pasted red paper circles on their cheeks to mimic his. Those in the first row arrived at 3am to snag their prime spots to greet the object of their intense though difficult-to-explain affection.

“Actually, I have no idea why I love him so much,” says Milkinikio Mew, who flew from Hong Kong with friends Lina Tong and Alsace Choi to attend the three-day-long festival, even though Hong Kong is holding its own birthday party for Kumamon. She slept in, showing up at 6am for the 10am kick-off, so had to settle for a seat in the last row.

Kumamon is… well, he’s not exactly a cartoon character, though he does appear in a daily newspaper comic strip. He’s not a brand icon either, like Hello Kitty, though like her, he does not speak and, also like her, his image certainly moves merchandise.

He’s not sexy, but when the Empress Michiko met Kumamon – at her request – during the imperial couple’s visit to Kumamoto in 2013, she asked him, “Are you single?”

But what is Kumamon? Well, he’s sort of a…

But first, the big moment is here. A birthday cake is rolled out, and the crowd sings ‘Happy Birthday’. Then presents. A representative from Honda, which has a motorbike factory nearby, gives him its Kumamon-themed scooter. An Italian bicycle maker unveils a custom Kumamon racing cycle. Plus a new exercise DVD, on which Kumamon leads the workout.

More than 100,000 products feature Kumamon’s image, from stickers and notebooks to cars and aeroplanes

The Italian bicycle is not for sale, yet. But the other two items are, joining the more than 100,000 products that feature Kumamon’s image, from stickers and notebooks to cars and aeroplanes (a budget Japanese airline flies a Kumamon 737). When Steiff offered 1,500 special edition Kumamon plush toys at $300 each, they sold out online in five seconds according to the German toymaker. Last year Leica created a $3,300 Kumamon camera, a bargain compared to the solid gold statue of Kumamon crafted by a Tokyo jeweller, which retails for $1 million.

So what is he then? Kumamon is a yuru-kyara, or ‘loose character’, one of the cuddly creatures in Japan that represent everything from towns and cities to airports and prisons. The word is sometimes translated as ‘mascot’, but yuru-kyara are significantly different from mascots in the West, such as those associated with professional sports teams, which tend to be benign, prankish one-dimensional court jesters that operate in the narrow realm of the sidelines during game time.

Kumamon has a far wider field of operation as the yuru-kyara for Kumamoto Prefecture (a prefecture is like a state in the USA or a county in England). He has become more than a symbol for that region, more than merely a strategy to push its tourism and farm products. He is almost regarded as a living entity, a kind of funky ursine household god (it is perhaps significant that the very first licensed Kumamon product was a full-sized Buddhist shrine emblazoned with his face). He hovers in a realm of fantasy like a character from children’s literature, a cross between the Cat in the Hat and a teddy bear.

Kumamon has personality. “Cute and naughty,” Tam explains, later, when I ask what about Kumamon made her care about him enough to be concerned immediately after the earthquake.

She wasn’t alone. After the April quake, Kumamon’s Twitter feed, which has nearly half a million followers and is typically updated at least three times a day, stopped issuing communications. With a thousand buildings damaged, water to the city cut, a hospital jarred off its foundations, and 44,000 people out of their homes, the prefectural government, which handles Kumamon’s business dealings and appearances, had more important things to do than stage-manage its fictive bear.

But Kumamon was missed.

“People are asking why Kumamon’s Twitter account has gone silent when the prefecture needs its mascot bear more than ever,” the Japan Times noted on its Facebook page on 19 April.

Into the vacuum came hundreds, then thousands of drawings, posted by everyone from children to professional manga artists, not only from Japan, but from Thailand, Hong Kong, China. They waged an impromptu campaign of drumming up support for earthquake relief using the bear, which stood in for the city itself and its people. Kumamon was depicted leading the rescue efforts, his head bandaged, lifting stones to rebuild the tumbled walls of Kumamoto Castle, propping up tottering foundations, enfolding children in his arms.

“Ganbatte Kumamon!” many wrote, using a term that means something between ‘don’t give up’ and ‘do your best’.

What is happening here? Kumamon is kawaii – the word is translated as ‘cute’, but it has broad, multi-layered meanings, covering a range of sweetly alluring images and behaviours. Not only does kawaii encompass the army of Japanese mascots, but a world of fashion that has adult women dressing as schoolgirls and schoolgirls dressing as goth heroines or Lolita seductresses, giving rise to ero-kawaii, or erotic kawaii, a mash-up of cute and sexy.

We eagerly spend fortunes on cute avatars – Kumamon earned $1 billion in 2015, Hello Kitty four or five times that – without ever wondering: What is cute? What about it causes us to open our wallets and our hearts? Is appreciation for cuteness hardwired in human beings? What does it say about our society? Is what it says good or, possibly, could cuteness harbour darker facets as well? These are questions being mulled over by a potential new academic field, ‘cute studies’.

And where do our concepts of cuteness originate? That one is easy. The primal source of all things cute is found in every country, in every city and town, every neighbourhood and close to every block in the world. You may have the template for all the cuteness in the world right in the next room and not even realise it.

Soma Fugaki’s dark eyes sparkle as he scans the opening night crowd at Blossom Blast, a feminist art show at the UltraSuperNew Gallery in Tokyo’s hip Harajuku district. Drinks are poured, music pulses. But Soma doesn’t dance or even stand. He’s a baby. Just five months old, Soma squirms in the arms of his father, Keigo, who gazes lovingly into his son’s face.

“Everything about him is a reflection of myself,” Keigo says, “a cartoon version… That has to do with how much I think he’s cute. I stare at him all the time. He looks like me. It’s my features, but exaggerated: bigger cheeks, bigger eyes.”

Babies are our model for cuteness. Those last two details – big cheeks, big eyes – are straight out of Konrad Lorenz’s Kindchenschema, or ‘baby schema’, as defined in the Nobel Prize-winning scientist’s 1943 paper on the ‘innate releasing mechanisms’ that prompt affection and nurture in human beings: fat cheeks, large eyes set low on the face, a high forehead, a small nose and jaw, and stubby arms and legs that move in a clumsy fashion. And it doesn’t just apply to humans: puppies, baby ducks and other young animals are covered by Lorenz’s theory.

Lorenz’s paper is the ur-document of cute studies, but did not produce an immediate reaction among the scientific community. He was a Nazi psychologist writing during wartime, exploring their loathsome eugenic theories – a reminder that the shiny face of cuteness invariably conceals a thornier side.

For decades, scientists focused on what babies perceive, what they think. But in the 21st century, attention turned to how babies themselves are perceived, as cuteness started taking its first wobbly steps toward becoming a cohesive realm of research.

Seeing cute creatures stimulates the brain’s pleasure centre

Experiments have demonstrated that viewing cute faces improves concentration and hones fine motor skills – useful modifications for handling an infant. A pair of Yale studies suggest that when people say they want to ‘eat up’ babies, it’s prompted by overwhelming emotions – caused, one researcher has speculated, by frustration at not being able to care for the cute thing, channelled into aggressiveness.

These emotions are triggered chemically, deep within the brain. Experiments hooking up volunteers to magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) scanners have shown how seeing cute creatures stimulates the brain’s pleasure centre, the nucleus accumbens, causing a release of dopamine, in a way similar to what happens when eating chocolate or having sex.

Women appear to feel this reaction more strongly than men. While biologically this is explained by the need to care for infants, society’s larger embrace of cuteness has led academics in gender studies to wonder whether cute culture is the sugar pill that sexism comes in – training women to be childlike – or whether it could instead be a form of empowerment in which young women take control of their own sexuality.

More recent experiments have tried to separate cuteness from its biological roots to see if there are general aesthetic standards that can make an inanimate object ‘cute’.

In a study at the University of Michigan in 2012, visual information expert Sookyung Cho asked subjects “to design a cute rectangle by adjusting the size, proportion, roundness, rotation, and color of the figure”.

What she found supported the idea that “smallness, roundness, tiltedness, and lightness of color can serve as determinants of perceived cuteness in artifact design”. It mattered, she found, whether the person designing the rectangle was in the USA or South Korea. Cuteness is nothing if not culturally specific, and that itself has become a rich focus of inquiry.

Cuteness is so associated with Japan that the actual country – mile after mile of unadorned concrete buildings alternating with rolling green fields and periodic densely packed cities – can come as something of a surprise. The Tokyo subway is jammed with hurrying businessmen in dark suits, rushing women in paper masks, racing kids in plain school uniforms. Cute characters such as Kumamon can be hard to spot, and to expect otherwise is like going to America and expecting everyone to be a cowboy.

Still, there are pockets of cuteness to be found: tiny yuru-kyara charms dangling off backpacks or peeking from posters or construction barriers in the form of baby ducks.

But not everywhere – not even in most places.

Even in Kumamoto during Kumamon’s birthday weekend. Exit from the Shinkansen bullet train at Kumamoto station and there is nothing special on the platform, not so much as a banner – not until you take the escalator down and catch a glimpse of the enormous head of Kumamon set up downstairs, along with a mock stationmaster’s office built for him. The train station shop is filled with Kumamon items, from bottles of sake to stuffed animals including, somewhat disturbingly, a plush set that pairs him with Hello Kitty, the wide-eyed bear directly behind the kneeling kitty in such a way as to suggest… well, you wonder if it’s deliberate.

In the city, his face is spread across the sides of an office building, with birthday banners hanging from the semi-enclosed shopping arcades that are a feature of every Japanese city.

Six years ago, Kumamoto wasn’t known for much. There is an active volcano, Mt Aso, nearby, and a 1960s reproduction of a dramatic 1600s-era castle that burned down in 1877. Kumamoto residents believed there was nothing in their city that anyone would want to visit. The region is largely agricultural, growing melons and strawberries.

But in 2010, Japan Railways was working to extend the Shinkansen bullet train to Kumamoto, and the city fathers were eager for tourists to use it. So they commissioned a logo to promote the area, hiring a designer who offered a stylised exclamation point (their official slogan, ‘Kumamoto Surprise’, was a bright spin on the fact that many Japanese would be surprised to find anything in Kumamoto worth seeing).

The exclamation point logo was a red blotch, resembling the sole of a shoe. The designer, seeking to embellish it, and knowing the popularity of yuru-kyara, added a surprised black bear. Kuma is Japanese for bear. Mon is local slang for ‘man’.

Paired with a mischievous personality – Mew calls him “very naughty” – Kumamon made headlines after Kumamoto held a press conference to report that he was missing from his post, having run off to Osaka to urge residents there to take the train. The stunt worked. Kumamon was voted the most popular yuru-kyara in 2011. (Japan has a national contest, the Yuru-kyara Grand Prix, held in November. The most recent one was attended by 1,727 different mascots and nearly 77,000 spectators. Millions of votes were cast.)

A few Kumamoto officials resisted Kumamon – their concern was he would scare off potential tourists, who’d worry about encountering wild bears, of which there are none in the prefecture. But the Kumamoto governor was a fan and cannily waived licensing fees for Kumamon, encouraging manufacturers to use him royalty-free.

Rather than pay up front, in order to get approval to use the bear’s image, companies are required to support Kumamoto, either by using locally manufactured parts or ingredients or by promoting the area on their packaging. It’s as if Mickey Mouse were continually hawking California oranges.

The side of the box of the Tamiya radio-controlled ‘Kumamon Version Buggy’, for instance, has photos of the region’s top tourist destinations. In one of the songs on the exercise DVD released on Kumamon’s birthday, as he leads his fans through their exertions, they grunt, “Toh-MAY-toes… straw-BEAR-ies… wah-TER-melons” – all agricultural products that are specialties of Kumamoto. Go into a grocery store and Kumamon smiles from every punnet of strawberries and honeydew wrapper.

There is a tacit agreement to never allude to anything as crass as him being a man in a bear suit

The bullet train began service to Kumamoto on 12 March, so that date is now used as Kumamon’s official birthday. He was there to greet the first scheduled train, a moment recreated during his birthday fest.

Fans line up to hug him, often reaching back for a lingering last touch as they’re led off to make way for the next waiting fan. There is a tacit agreement to never allude to anything as crass as him being a man in a bear suit, to, if not accept Kumamon’s reality, pretend that he exists.

In 2014, Kumamon gave a news conference at the Foreign Correspondents’ Club of Japan, where his title was given as ‘Director of PR’. The journalists posed respectful questions. “How many staff do you have to help you out with your activities?” one asked. The answer – “We have about 20 staff members in our section” – was delivered by one of those subordinates, Masataka Naruo, who enjoys telling people that Kumamon is his boss.

Shopping in Kumamoto the day before the start of the celebration, Mew and her friends wear Kumamon T-shirts and carry Kumamon backpacks. The three women show their discoveries to each other. They own a lot of Kumamon products already. Why buy more? What makes Kumamon so special? “Because he’s very cute,” says Tong, in English.

Being cute isn’t always enough, however.

For every Kumamon, for every popular yuru-kyara, there are a hundred Harajuku Miccolos. A five-foot-tall yellow-and-brown bee, Harajuku Miccolo stands on the pavement, celebrating Honey Bee Day by finishing up three hours of loitering in front of the Colombin Bakery and Café, greeting passers-by – or trying to. Most barely glance in his direction and do not break stride, though some do come over and happily pose for the inevitable picture. There is no line.

Harajuku Miccolo is cute yet obscure, the common fate for most yuru-kyara. The city of Osaka has 45 different characters promoting its various aspects, who must fend off periodic calls for them to be culled in the name of efficiency; one administrator piteously argued that the government officials who create these characters work hard on them and so would feel bad if they were discontinued.

Harajuku Miccolo is trying to avoid that fate.

“He is not a success yet,” admits one of his handlers, distributing cubes of the café’s trademark honey cake. “Many are not as successful…”

“…as Kumamon?”

“We’re trying…”

Nobody is cute in Shakespeare. The word did not exist until the early 1700s, when the ‘a’ in ‘acute’ was replaced by an apostrophe – ’cute – and then dropped altogether, the sort of truncation for which frenetic Americans in their restive colonies were already notorious.

‘Acute’ came from acus, Latin for needle, later denoting pointed things. So ‘cute’ at first meant “acute, clever, keen-witted, sharp, shrewd” according to the 1933 edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, which doesn’t suggest the term could describe visual appearance. This older, ‘clever’ meaning lingers in expressions like “don’t be cute”.

The newer usage was still being resisted in Britain in the mid-1930s, when a correspondent at the Daily Telegraph included ‘cute’ on his list of “bastard American expressions”, along with ‘OK’ and ‘radio’. Not only is ‘cute’ unknown before 1700, but Lorenz’s Kindchenschema is largely absent from visual arts before the 20th century. Even babies in medieval artworks are depicted as wizened miniature adults.

Cute images of the kind we’ve become accustomed to began showing up around 1900. While purists fussed, popular culture was discovering the bottomless marketability of cute things. In 1909, Rose O’Neill drew a comic strip about ‘kewpies’ (taken from ‘cupid’) – preening babylike creatures with tiny wings and huge heads, which were soon being handed out as carnival prizes and capering around Jell-O ads (to this day, Kewpie Mayonnaise, introduced in 1925, is the top-selling brand in Japan). Cuteness and modern commercialisation are intricately linked.

Still, kewpies followed the lines of actual human anatomy more or less, the way that Mickey Mouse resembled a real mouse when he first appeared on film in 1928. A half a century of fine-tuning made him much more infantile, a process naturalist Stephen Jay Gould famously described in his ‘biological homage’ to Mickey. Gouldobserved that the mischievous and sometimes violent mouse of the late 1920s morphed into the benign, bland overseer of a vast corporate empire.

Today, about $5 billion worth of Hello Kitty merchandise is sold annually

“He has assumed an ever more childlike appearance as the ratty character of Steamboat Willie became the cute and inoffensive host to a magic kingdom,” Gould writes.

In Japan, the national fascination with cuteness is traced to girls’ handwriting. Around 1970 schoolgirls in Japan began to imitate the caption text in manga comics – what was called koneko-ji, or ‘kitten writing’. By 1985, half of the girls in Japan had adopted the style, and companies marketing pencils, notebooks and other inexpensive gift items, like Sanrio, learned that these items sold better when festooned with a variety of characters, the queen of whom is Hello Kitty.

Her full name is Kitty White, and she has a family and lives in London (a fad for all things British hit Japan in the mid-1970s).

The first Hello Kitty product, a vinyl coin purse, went on sale in 1974. Today, about $5 billion worth of Hello Kitty merchandise is sold annually. In Asia, there are Hello Kitty amusement parks, restaurants and hotel suites. EVA Air, the Taiwanese airline, flies seven Hello Kitty-themed jets, which carry images of Hello Kitty and her friends not only on their hulls, but throughout their cabins, from the pillows and antimacassars to, in the bathroom, toilet paper emblazoned with Hello Kitty’s face, a detail which an observer does not need to hold a doctorate in psychology to wonder about.

“If your target is young women, it’s saturated,” says Hiroshi Nittono, Director of the Cognitive Psychophysiology Laboratory at Osaka University, talking about the market for cute products in Japan. That is certainly true. In an effort to stand out, some yuru-kyara are now made intentionally crude or semi-frightening. There is the whole realm of kimo-kawaii, or ‘gross-cute’, epitomised by Gloomy, a cuddly bear whose claws are red with the blood of his owner, whom he habitually mauls. Even Kumamon, beloved as he is, is still subject to a popular internet meme where his works are revealed to be done “For the Glory of Satan”.

Exploring the subculture known for doll-like make-up, bonnets and petticoats.

Because the practice of putting characters on products is so prevalent, and subject to resistance, Nittono, a placid, smiling man who wears an ascot, has been working with the government on developing products that are intrinsically cute. He asks to meet, not at his apartment or at an academic office, but at the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry in Hiroshima, where he is finishing up an academic post.

For the past few years, Nittono and the government have been collaborating to develop cute items, a few of which are laid out on a table: a squat make-up brush, a bowl, a brazier, a few medallions and tiles. Given the mind-boggling array of cute merchandise available at shops in every mall around the world, it is not an overwhelming display of the ingenious synthesis of academe and government.

Nittono’s group is exploring how cuteness can be used as a device to draw people toward products without blatant branding.

“We use kawaii for such sentiment, feeling – kawaii things are not threatening, that is the most important part, small and not harmful,” says Nittono. “A high-quality product is somewhat distant from the customers; it looks expensive. But if you put kawaii nuance on such products, maybe such items can be more approachable.”

“If you have something cute, then you want to touch it, and then you see the quality of it,” adds Youji Yamashita, a ministry official.

Objects can also be unintentionally kawaii. With her husband Makoto, Date Tomito owns Bar Pretty, a tiny side-street tavern in Hiroshima. Six people would be crowded sitting at the bar. Makoto comes in from the market bearing a small plant in a yellow pot, a present for his wife.

“This is kawaii,” Date says, holding the plant up, elaborating. “There are lots of different meanings for kawaii: ‘cute’, ‘small’, ‘clumsy’. Some things just have a cute shape.”

She stresses something about kawaii: “It’s never bad,” she says. “I never use kawaii in an ironic way. Kawaii is kind of the best compliment around Japanese people, especially girls and women. They really like kawaii stuff and things.”

Single women in their 30s are sometimes referred to as ‘leftover Christmas cake’

Perhaps not all women. Just as Barbie’s measurements have drawn critique from feminists and scholars, so Hello Kitty has caught the interest of academics, especially in Japan, where the progress of women has lagged far behind other industrial nations. With girlishness a national obsession – Japan did not ban possession of child pornography until 2014 – and its most popular female icon lacking a mouth, if cuteness does become a separate academic field, then much credit has to be given to the feminist pushback against what Hiroto Murasawa of Osaka Shoin Women’s University calls “a mentality that breeds non-assertion”.

At the UltraSuperNew Gallery opening attended by Soma and his father, guests watch a woman in a frilly white miniskirt draped in white feathers with fuzzy leggings and an enormous yarn bow atop her head, her face painted white with a red flower on each cheek and blue dots running down her nose. She kneels in the gallery window, dabbing at a teal and yellow painting that closely resembles finger-painting writ large.

Her professional name is Gerutama, and she insists that, despite appearances, she is definitely not kawaii. She is a ‘live painter’. Some Japanese of both sexes reject kawaii – ‘fake’ is a word often used. But they are in the minority. Japanese women still live in a culture where single women in their 30s are sometimes referred to as ‘leftover Christmas cake’, meaning that after the 25th – of December for cake, birthday for women – they are past their expiration date and hard to get rid of. Nobody wants either.

Those surgical masks worn in public? Yes, to avoid colds, pollution and allergies. But ask Japanese women, and many will say that they wear them date masuku – ‘just for show’. Because they didn’t have time to put on their make-up, or because they don’t consider themselves cute enough, and they want a shield against the intrusive eyes of their crowded world. In a German study of 270,000 people in 22 countries, Japanese people came last in being pleased with how they look. More than a third of the country, 38 per cent, said they were “not at all satisfied” or “not very satisfied” with their personal appearance.

“Kawaii is sickening,” says gallery-goer Stefhen Bryan, a Jamaican writer who lived for a decade in Japan and married a Japanese woman. “Kawaii is especially babylike. If a woman acts like an adult in Japan, it’s an offence. Their self-esteem is nothing in this country. It’s all under the aegis of culture. It’s low self-esteem en masse.”

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Joshua Paul Dale pauses to remove his shoes at the entrance to his large – well, large for Tokyo – light-filled apartment in the Sendagaya section of the city. Dale, 50, a cultural studies scholar on the faculty at Tokyo Gakugei University, is the driving force for the creation of cute studies.

Neil Steinberg explores why, for certain robots, cuteness has its advantages.

Part behavioural science, part cultural studies, part biology, the field is so new it hasn’t had a conference yet.

Dale was the first to assemble academic papers into an online cute studies bibliography, a list now containing over 100 publications, in alphabetical order from C Abidin’s ‘Agentic cute (^.^): pastiching East Asian cute in Influencer commerce’ in the East Asian Journal of Popular Culture to Leslie Zebrowitz et al.’s ‘Baby talk to the babyfaced’ in the Journal of Nonverbal Behavior.

Dale’s latest step has been to edit the East Asian Journal of Popular Culture’s special cuteness issue, published in April 2016. “The articles collected in this issue demonstrate the flexibility of cuteness as an analytical category, and the wide scope of the insights it generates,” he states in the introduction.

One inspiration is ‘porn studies’, now with its own quarterly

Cuteness has not yet emerged as an independent scientific field – Dale estimates that only a few dozen academics worldwide focus on the topic – but he’s hopeful that it is in the process of happening. Dale says one inspiration is ‘porn studies’, now with its own quarterly, created after academics united to focus on a topic they felt cultural researchers were neglecting out of misplaced squeamishness. A distinct field encourages exploration.

Hiroshi Nittono contributed to the East Asian Journal’s special issue. Nittono, who authored the first peer-reviewed scientific paper with ‘kawaii’ in its title, postulates a “two-layer model” of cuteness: not only does it encourage parental care of newborns, first, but once a baby moves into toddlerhood and begins interacting with the world, cuteness then promotes socialisation, a pattern Dale sees reflected in the aborning field.

“It’s interesting because it’s inherent in the concept itself,” Dale says. “Cute things relate easily to other things. It kind of breaks down the barriers a little bit between self and other, or subject and object. That means it invites work from various fields. It’s interesting to get people together from different fields talking about the same subject.”

Not that you need an academic conference to do that. Japan has uniquely embraced cuteness as a reflection of its national character, the way tea ceremonies or cherry blossoms were once held up as symbolic of Japanese nationhood. In 2009, the government appointed a trio of ‘cute ambassadors’, three women in ribbons and babydoll dresses whose task was to represent the country abroad.

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Humanity has always embraced household gods: not the world-creating universal deity, but minor, more personal allies to soften what can be a harsh and lonely life. Not everyone has the friends they deserve or the baby they’d cherish. Often people of both sexes are alone in the world.

Teddy bears exist because the night is dark and long and at some point your parents have to go to bed and leave you. There is real comfort in cuteness.

“Filling in an emotional need is exactly where kawaii plays a significant role,” writes Christine R Yano, a professor of anthropology at the University of Hawaii at Manoa and the author of Pink Globalization: Hello Kitty’s trek across the Pacific.

“Even in America, journalist Nicholas Kristof has written of an ‘empathy gap’ in today’s society,” states Yano. “He points to the place of objects that may be considered promoters of ‘happiness’, ‘solace’, ‘comfort’. When a society needs to heal, it seeks comfort in the familiar. And often the familiar may reside in ‘cute’. Witness the use of teddy bears as sources of comfort for firefighters in the wake of NYC’s 9-11. So I see kawaii things as holding the potential as empathy generators.”

Kumamon is a power station of empathy generation. In the weeks after the Kumamoto earthquake, Kumamon was so necessary that in his absence his fans simply conjured him up themselves, independently, as an object of sympathy, a tireless saviour, an obvious hero.

Three weeks after the 14 April earthquake, Kumamon visited the convention hall of the hard-hit town of Mashiki, where residents were still sleeping in their cars for protection as 1,200 tremors continued to rumble across the area. The visit was reported on TV and in the papers as news, as if a long-sought survivor had stumbled out of the wreckage alive.

The children, many of whom had lost their homes in the earthquake, flocked around him, squealing, hugging, taking pictures. Their friend had returned.

This article first appeared on Mosaic and is republished here under a Creative Commons licence.

Featured image: Pixabay/WB Mag

#cute #Japan #Japanese culture #Kawaii #Kumamon #stuff ladies like according to men #Culture Wars #Featured

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