#also i just think the set-up is interesting. something about the boss just up and leaving one day w no explanation like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ahundredtimesover · 9 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (08) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 17.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you again for all your love and appreciation for this story. Srsly, I'm perpetually blown away 🥰 But like I've mentioned, updates will take longer after this as I return to uni, so I hope for your patience as we get closer to the end.

This chapter also contains triggering topics such as sexual harassment and attempted assault. There's a discussion on what happens after something traumatizing like that, so pls be cautious and know that what's depicted here is just another way of dealing with such experience.

On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The end-of-autumn chilly air pierces through your skin, lingering even as you settle inside the plant store that gives the warmth that you need. You sigh in relief, and Soomin and Jimin giggle at you because they know how you are. It’s why during moments like this, their affection shows, hugging you from each side as you look up at the shelf for another rubber tree you want to add to your collection.

“What are you two on about?” You ask, nonchalantly releasing your arm to get your chosen glossy plant.

“Nothing, just showing our love,” Soomin says, resting her chin on your shoulder. “We know you love the cold even if you easily get cold. You don’t like hugs either but you can’t do anything about us.”

“It’s true that I can’t do anything about the both of you,” you hum. “But you also know it’s not that I don’t like hugs. It’s just not my preferred form of affection.”

“Even after all the years that we’ve been giving it to you?” Jimin asks, as he pulls away from you to place the plant in your cart.

“Yeah. I mean, if I only give or receive it every few weeks, then it wouldn’t be,” you respond. “But I also wouldn’t really know. Other than you guys, there’s not much affection I feel towards other people.”

It’s a reality you’ve long accepted. You’re away from your family and friends, and the only other form of affection you receive is through sex with the few men you’ve been interested in - pleasurable at best, shallow at worst. Perhaps it’s the reason why you do, you think now. They’re still good substitutes. Being alone doesn’t feel so lonely when you’re intimate with people you don’t exactly share moments of intimacy with. You’ve learned these last few years that there’s a difference.

Your friends just hum in agreement, choosing now to point out that your home is transforming into some zen garden with the amount of plants you’ve bought just this last month.

“Should I just be a gardener or a plant store worker?” You look at them. “Or study to become a landscape designer?”

“Honey, tending to low-maintenance plants is a different thing,” Soomin chuckles. “That’s a start, though. But kidding aside, so a career change is what you’re going for?”

“Hmm, just a thought,” you shrug. “What if moving companies isn’t just what I need? What if it’s doing something completely different? Like being out of an office or answering to someone or something?”

“That’s true. Sometimes we find what we’re looking for in unfamiliar environments,” Jimin chimes in. “Are you thinking about doing it soon?”

“Maybe not,” you say. “I’ve become quite invested in the Arts Center and I really wanna see it through. Maybe after it’s opened, then that’s when I’ll finally step away.”

“Well, you have been doing a lot of work for it,” Soomin agrees. “But… are you sure it’s the only thing holding you back? And not someone specific? A boss, maybe?”

“The Arts Center isn’t holding me back, Soo. And neither is Jungkook,” you state. “After all the years I spent in the company, I don’t wanna let anything or anyone keep me from doing what’s best for me. I don’t… I don’t wanna get stuck there. I don’t wanna keep feeling indebted. That’s what’s held me back this whole time.”

“Oh, hun,” Soomin sighs. “You don’t owe anyone anything. And if you did, you’ve paid your dues, all eight years of them.”

As Jimin heads out to get his car, she entangles her arm around yours and asks again if your decision to wait to resign has something to do with Jungkook.

“Why are you so insistent?” You frown at her.

“Just… wondering. You haven’t expressed disdain for him in so long. Even the weekly ugh work drives me nuts messages have stopped, and that says a lot. I was just thinking that maybe he’s gone soft on you, and that you’ve gone soft on him, too. I just wanna make sure I’m ready when you drop the bomb on us or something. I mean, you two have so much tension, who knows what’ll happen?”

“Okay, what if I’ve just developed better coping mechanisms now and can manage without complaining about it? That’s a possibility. And, even if I’ve been busy with organizing events and stuff, I actually enjoy that,” you explain.

“Okay. So what about Jungkook?”

You look away, knowing that any acknowledgment of the comfort you’ve started to feel around him may start to mean something else once you say it. Admitting even the tiniest bit of attraction is even more of a no-no, so you just play it off, the same way you did when you got home from the gala and you dodged all questions about him, choosing instead to talk about the delicious food and the weird people you met.

“We’ve found a way to move on from how we started and learned that we actually work really well together. We have to be professional and all that.”

Right, you scoff to yourself. Thinking about your boss’ smile as you fall asleep is anything but professional.

“Fine, whatever you say,” she gives in as the car comes into view. “Just know that I’m here, okay? Jimin’s a bit protective and still hasn’t gotten over how that man treated you so you can talk to me in case anything else changes.”

“I will,” you say, giving her hand a squeeze.

You spend the rest of that weekend watching movies and singing your hearts out at a karaoke and stuffing your faces with good food. Before you know it, you’re back in your bed on a Sunday, all alone, but you don’t feel so lonely, nor do you feel so terrible at having to start another week. If anything, you’re wondering how Jungkook spent these last two days. At a club, maybe. He did say there’s always a party he’s invited to.

You stop yourself from thinking of what happens after that. He’s got women at his beck and call after all, even when he’s in Singapore, as Lucas had told you during your call two months ago. But it doesn’t really matter - Jungkook is Jungkook and you’re you. And that’s not yet even considering the glaring reality of him being your boss.

Ever since the gala, you can say that there’s been a change in how you’ve been with him. There’s a lot more attention, you’d say. There’s more admiration, too, when it comes to him doing his work, making decisions, and drawing up plans and designs.

You understand the distance and the detachment somehow. You suppose that whatever he experienced made him that way, so you’d make an effort into making him smile, teasing him a little more than usual so there’s a bit more joy in his day. You can say he’s gotten used to it. Even Mr. Ri would laugh and join in.

And that’s the thing - you anticipate it. You look forward to the curl of his lips and the dip on his lower cheek and the softness in his eyes and the way he turns away or bows his head to hide it. Even the way he’d play it off is quite endearing, a term you never thought you’d use to describe him. It makes you wonder if people had tried to get to know him, maybe knock on the door and wait around to see if he’d come out and let them in.

But all that has brought you to right now - Sunday night as you think about seeing him the next morning. You think back to all the times that you’d entered his penthouse and saw him in his gym attire post-workout, the seconds you’d spent so close to him as you adjusted his necktie, and the breakfasts and car rides you’d shared. You recall the nods of acknowledgement after serving him his coffee, the times he’d agreed with your recommendations, and the instances he’d turned to you for support and his look of thanks after you’ve given it.

Then there’s the grazing of your fingertips, the brushing of arms, the interlocking of eyes.

And your heart, beating a little too fast then.

You groan to yourself. You really have to find a way for this to stop.

You try to keep your distance from Jungkook for the next few days.

You do your usual - fix his outfit, eat with him the breakfast you prepared, go through schedules, and join him in meetings. You do away with the eye contact, you skip the teasing, and you don’t share about your evening like you’ve been doing. And that’s only because doing so just gives you moments to remember, like his gazes lingering or the sound of his laughter. Even more, it messes with your mind thinking that just like you, he spends most of his weeknights alone.

You act unbothered, although him catching you looking at him from your office seat and then you, quickly looking away doesn’t really help your case.

It’s on Wednesday when he passes by your desk to put back some files and you return to your task after giving him a small smile when he asks if you’re okay.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon. Just a little tired but aren’t we all?” You respond, your eyes flitting from him to your desktop screen.

“Yes, but most of us take breaks. You don’t,” he counters.

“Neither do you,” you turn to him with an arched brow.

It’s become a habit of yours to remind him to rest but just like you, he’s pretty stubborn.

“Ah, there you are,” he chuckles. “I was almost convinced you’re not really my assistant if you didn’t point that out but alas, it’s you.”

“Are you testing me, sir?” You frown at him.

A mistake, really, since he gives you that teasing smirk of his that you’re learning is your weakness.

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “You just haven’t seemed like yourself all week and I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. You can take a leave tomorrow, if that’s what you need.”

“It’s okay, sir. And I’m fine,” you assure him, realizing that there’s not much that could keep you away from him. “Plus, we have that dinner with the media festival organizers tomorrow evening and it’s the only time they’re free.”

“I know,” he sighs. “As long as you’re sure. It’s selfish but I do need you there.”

Of course he does, you think to yourself. You’re there to make his life easier, after all. It’s the only reason why he’d ever need you or want you around.

You confirm that you’ll go to work tomorrow and sigh in relief when he doesn’t say anything more. You decide to go home, wanting to get to the weekend so you can find some distraction, in whatever way that may be.

Thursday comes and you spend your day divided between working with the support team for the upcoming VP events and coordinating with the Arts Center marketing team for the deliverables they need signed off.

It’s busy enough that you don’t see much of Jungkook but that only really lasts until you have to accompany him to that welcome dinner with the organizers of the international media festival that Jungkook wanted to collaborate with for the Arts Center promotions. It’s happening in August of next year and while the partnership has been established, he wants to work on his relationship with them so that the plans could firm up quickly.

You head to Jungkook’s restaurant of choice in Itaewon, a fancy place that serves Korean dishes in a modern, artistic way. You’ve heard about it before; the food looks like something you could put at an art gallery. Korea’s exceptional ability to merge traditional and modern elements is reflected in this restaurant’s menu. It’s why he wanted to bring them here, he tells you.

You settle in your seat, excited for the dishes that are about to come out, and that’s when you see him, the man you dated before Hajoon, and someone you haven’t heard from in a while. Of course, that wasn’t always the case. He continued to reach out months after you ended things with him. It seemed harmless then, and it was only two years ago when he finally stopped.

Chi-won recognizes you first, having come in to serve the first set of dishes. He stares as he sets the plate in front of you, his gaze lingering even as he moves on to one of the organizers to your right. He looks different, which is why it took you another look for his face to register. He’s lost weight and cut his hair; his features look somehow harder, too.

There’s an intensity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He was pretty laid-back, a reason why you both clicked that first time. He’d have his moments of frustration, letting them out in his own ways like in the bedroom, but he always seemed to get over them quickly.

Things were always casual and you made sure he knew that. He didn’t seem to mind at first but he started to want more and with your new role with Hoseok then, you were always tired and busy. The nights with Chi-won stopped being your relief, and when you told him you couldn’t see him anymore, he seemed to accept it. The messages shortly after were just about asking how you were doing and after answering twice, you stopped replying and then changed your number. You haven’t heard from him since, and you assumed he’d just accepted things and moved on.

But tonight you feel the tension, and so when he stands close to you when he serves the succeeding plates and when he waits around your table to watch you eat, you start to feel uncomfortable.

You try to be present in the conversation happening around you, as the organizers seem to be enjoying the meal while also pitching in some ideas for the launch. You try to focus on Jungkook’s voice this time to distract you. But the pair of eyes that seems to watch your every move starts to become too much, and the anxiety builds as each second ticks by.

It’s while you wait for the dessert when you take the opportunity to step out. Jungkook mentions the invitation drafts so you say that they’re saved in your iPad that you’ll retrieve from the car parked on the other street. He agrees that it would be good to show them, so you excuse yourself and get some much needed fresh air, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder just by not being in the same space as Chi-won.

That is, until you hear a familiar voice call your name.

You stiffen for only a moment then continue to walk, fumbling for your phone as you try to dial Mr. Ri’s number. But you don’t get to, as the man following you pulls your wrist to get you to face him. You jerk in response, dropping your phone on the ground, and the fear fills you immediately.

“Don’t touch me,” you seeth, cradling your arm as you pick up your phone.

You try to stay calm, even as his smug face gives you chills, and you try to remember the man who liked to laugh and joke around those years ago, seeing now that he’s nothing like him.

“Funny you say that when that’s all you wanted me to do before,” he mocks, inching closer to you. “I know you remember, ___. Those nights were amazing, weren’t they? Your body and your moans told me so, so I don’t know why you wanted them to stop.”

You want to stay silent and not give him anything, but there’s desperation in his eyes, and you’re afraid of what he’ll do if you don’t even acknowledge him, so you give the same explanation you did before.

“I told you. I didn’t want anything serious,” you say, making sure you keep your distance from him.

“That’s not what you’d say whenever you’re drunk,” he counters. “You’d go on about not wanting to be alone, about wanting to be taken care of and being with someone who made you feel loved.”

“I never said I wanted it to be you,” you respond, too quickly for his liking it seems, as you see his look turn into anger.

“So what was I for?” He demands. “Just the guy you fucked for the sake of it?”

“I was stressed with work and you hated yours,” you remind him. “That’s all we needed each other for.”

“But things changed for me,” he says, his voice softening again, the fluctuation of his tone scaring you even more. “I wanted to be with you. And seeing you now, I know I still do.”

“But I don’t,” you state. “I didn’t then and I don’t even now.”

“But you wanted that restaurant owner, didn’t you?” He demands, worrying you that he knows about Hajoon.

“No, that didn’t mean anything. We were never together.”

“Bullshit, ___. I’d see you at the clubs around here with his arm on your waist, just like I used to do. That clearly meant something.”

The thought that Chi-won kept tabs on you even after you ended things makes you angry. Perhaps it’s because he works around the area you frequented during those times but even then, the fact that he even knows what Hajoon does for a living is crossing the line, and in your frustration, you hit Chi-won where it hurts the most.

“Clearly it didn’t mean enough because I’m not seeing him anymore. And I was never serious with him, just like I wasn’t with you.”

He visibly groans. He walks closer to you again, prompting you to walk backwards. With you turned back and walking on your heels on the uneven pavement, you’re worried you’ll hurt yourself. Even more, a part of you is scared that he’ll hurt you. It’s still early on a Thursday night and you’re in the quieter part of town so there aren’t many people walking on the streets; those who are are too far for you to catch their attention. So you continue your steps until you’re backed up against the wall and with nowhere to go, you start to panic, feeling the fear slowly overtake you.

“You know, I came out here because I wanted to talk to you just to see how you were doing since you know, I actually cared about you like you wanted,” he rolls his eyes. “But seeing you act like none of what we shared mattered just makes me so angry. Why do you get to go on and treat me like shit? I’m just gonna have to do the same, then.”

At this, he cages you, his face too close to yours that you freeze in fear. The smirk makes you nauseous, but somehow you find the strength to push him away but he comes back right after, closer each time.

“I said, don’t touch me!” You yell, giving him another shove. “Just stay away from me!”

Chi-won grabs your wrist once more, holding you tightly so he can show you that he has control and that he can do whatever he wants.

“Let me go!” You plead, but he doesn’t budge.

“I don’t want to, not when I get to have you all alone after so long,” he hums, licking his lips and dragging his eyes all over your body. “I always liked it when you came over wearing that skirt of yours.”

You know this is what he wants. He wants you to be scared, he wants to haunt your dreams and not make you forget him because he knows that you obviously already had. You’re terrified but you try to gather whatever courage you have within you to fight back.

But it’s then that you hear footsteps, and a shadow appears behind Chi-won.

“She said to let her go.”

Jungkook’s voice is hard, tense, angry. But there’s control, and you can tell that he’s trying to hold himself back. He comes into view, the mix of worry and anger on his face helping to relieve your fear.

But it doesn’t affect Chi-won, as he continues to hold onto your wrist. Your strained face lets Jungkook know that you’re still in the man’s hold, prompting him to walk closer and repeat his words.

“I said to let her go,” he demands. “Do it. Because we both know there are so many things I can do to you and smashing your face is just one of them.”

Jungkook rolls up his sleeves and clenches his fists. He doesn’t think it’s enough to scare the man who’s holding you hostage but he thinks it’s enough to show that he’s indeed willing to throw a punch if he has to. He’d pull the man away but he doesn’t want you to get hurt. He’d beat the daylights out of this asshole but he doesn’t want you to witness that. You’re terrified already as it is; anything more might just break you further.

So Jungkook keeps his gaze on the man, hoping the threat would work somehow.

It does, as the man lets you go then raises his arms mockingly, as if to surrender. You step away immediately, finding your way towards Jungkook. Chi-won looks at the man next to you from head-to-toe, his attempt at intimidation.

“The boss, I assume?” Chi-won scoffs. “That’s cheap, even for you.”

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that,” Jungkook fumes, trying his hardest to keep himself together and not make this worse.

“Women who are that lonely and that desperate for sex would do anything and use anyone to get what they want and feel better about themselves,” Chi-won shrugs. “I’m just saying I’m not surprised.”

The insult is unfounded. You know at this point, he’s just trying to say anything to provoke Jungkook and put you down in the process. Somehow you’ve learned how to deal with men like this.

“Yeah, I was so desperate that I ended up settling for a low-life like you,” you scoff, hoping the brave facade holds up. “You weren’t even that good. I could only fake it for so long.”

And this is what does it for him, as Chi-won’s face distorts in anger, and while you know your words provoked him, you wanted to show that you could regain your control, and he’s the one who now breaks because of it.

“Fucking slut,” he yells, charging towards you.

But Jungkook charges back, pushing Chi-won towards the wall and making sure he stays there. The anger on Jungkook’s face is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, yet despite this side of him that you’re now witnessing, you can’t help but feel emotional at his presence. If it wasn’t for him, you don’t know what would’ve happened; you don’t know where you’d pull the strength to stand up for yourself.

“You say anything else and I swear, getting fired is gonna be the least of your worries,” Jungkook huffs. “Because this boss knows your manager. This boss knows the police chief at the station not far away. You hurt her and you’re gonna pay for this. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Chi-won slowly realizes that those aren’t empty words, as he visibly starts to look worried. There’s not much he can do now. You doubt he can overpower Jungkook despite his size. You also know Chi-won doesn’t have much, and losing his job could make him lose everything. And that scares you, too.

“Jungkook, it’s okay. Just let him go,” you plead, tugging his arm to pull him away. You know how much worse it could get if anything else happens. You know that Jungkook is very much capable of inflicting physical pain, and you don’t want blood on his hands because of you. “Let’s just go back inside.”

Jungkook looks at you, the fear clearly still evident - your eyes are glassy and empty, your hand on his arm is shaking, and your voice is cracking. Whatever courage you had at answering back earlier is slowly dissipating, and all Jungkook wants is to get you away from all this.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. He’s just angry and I don’t blame him,” you insist.

All lies, really. You wish the worst for Chi-won, but you know it won’t do you nor Jungkook any good if you both go down this path.

Your eyes plead for him to take your lead this time and he sees it, he sees you, and you see his tiniest of nods before turning to Chi-won.

“Get out of here and call it a night before I do anything else to you.”

Chi-won, who’s clearly still furious, starts walking away. But in his effort to regain the control you took from him, he turns to you before heading back inside.

“You’re really fucking good at that, you know?” He says to you. “Fuck the man you know wants you and then just drop him when you get bored or when you find the next guy who can pleasure you without the commitment you obviously desperately want. You’ll always be miserable whatever you do.”

You will the tears not to fall as the words hit you where it hurts. They’re things you’ve heard not long ago, just in a different variation, and by another man who had the same fate as Chi-won - left by you because you couldn’t give them what they wanted. Maybe you’re too honest when you’re drunk, maybe that’s when the yearning for something meaningful and more permanent comes out, and maybe that’s when they thought they could be what you wanted.

But you’ve always known from the beginning that they couldn’t give you what you desired, and you always hoped you’d cut the cord before they started to want more. Turns out your timing is just as bad as your judgment.

You let them have the final say, though. And then you let them walk away. You feel like it’s climactic for them, liberating even, to be able to tell the person who hurt them that she’s selfish and she doesn’t deserve happiness. You suppose it just proves that they didn’t really feel much; perhaps your read on people isn’t that terrible after all.

You manage to rein all the emotions in and look at Jungkook who remains standing next to you. His fist is still clenched and you see the anger in his eyes. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when Hajoon threatened him. This is the first time you thought he could really hurt someone, and he would’ve done it on your defense.

“We should go back to dinner,” you finally say. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Jungkook turns to you, the fear still evident in your eyes but he can see you trying, he can see you try to be brave and bury all that pain in for his sake.

“I’m not letting you go back in there,” he responds, his tone hard and firm. “I’m not letting you anywhere near that man again.”

You don’t insist this time. You don’t want to be anywhere near Chi-won, either. So you just nod and wait for Mr. Ri to arrive after he was called to come to you with the car. Jungkook is about to instruct the older man to go inside and send his apologies to the organizers but you tell Jungkook it should be him. You manage to convince him to properly send them off and pay the bill and while initially unwilling, he finally goes, giving Mr. Ri strict orders not to leave you alone.

Mr. Ri breaks at the pained look on your face - an uncommon sight for him, and one that hurts him. It’s not the first time though, and that just makes it worse.

“Stay strong, okay?” He says, despite not knowing what happened. “You have people around to protect you, to keep you safe. You know that.”

You nod in acknowledgement, as you’re unable to get any word out. But you see the pain in his eyes, too, and for all the years that you’ve known him, the comfort in them always comes.

Jungkook returns and informs you that the organizers will be leaving soon. He asks you if it’s okay if he drives you home and you say that it is. Even if he’s just seen you be humiliated, somehow it’s him you want to be with you as you try to process what happened. You know it’ll ease his mind as well, and you don’t want him to worry any more than he already is.

You both say goodbye to Mr. Ri and then enter the car, with you feeling a little odd to be sitting in the passenger seat with Jungkook next to you. But you settle in, your body moving on its own; it feels quite foreign to you, with your mind in a haze and your nails engraving their marks on your palms, as if by some miracle it could erase what happened tonight from your memory.

But you doubt anything would.

“His shift ends soon and I don’t want to take you home right away, just in case he follows,” Jungkook says.

You look at him questioningly and he immediately knows what you’re thinking.

“I know the manager and I asked him,” he explains as he starts driving away. “But don’t worry, I didn’t say anything. And that bastard didn’t see me. He avoided me and stayed in the kitchen the whole time I was there, as if he wasn’t serving our table the whole evening. I should’ve picked up that he was trying to get near you. I… I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time.”

You still came for me, you want to say. It’s the thought that keeps swimming in your mind. You don’t know how long you were gone for but he could’ve called; he chose to go out and look for you instead.

It’s as if he knows what you’re thinking, as he says that he noticed you were away longer than he expected.

“It just felt odd. You would’ve messaged me if something was up,” he reasons. “I guess I noticed earlier that he kept coming to our table for no reason but I didn’t pay it any mind. But then another server brought the dessert. I asked where he was and the guy said he went outside without any explanation, and I just had a weird feeling. I should’ve come sooner, ___.”

You want to say that he doesn’t have to apologize, that things could’ve been worse if he hadn’t come, that you owe him your life that he did but you’re feeling too much to even manage a word out.

At the stoplight, he turns to you and sees the half-moons embedded on your skin. He sees the glassy eyes and the trembling lips. He wants nothing more than to shield you from all this, to take you somewhere where you’re safe and where no one can hurt you. He didn’t think that seeing you like this would make him feel so powerless, because much as he can make that man’s life miserable if you let him, what he can’t do is take your pain away. What he doesn’t know how to do is comfort you.

“I’ll drive you around first, is that okay?”

You nod, turning to your right to watch the city pass you by. It’s a breeze driving down the bridge as lights illuminate the Han River. The moon’s reflected on it, too, but you don’t feel any joy nor calmness. All you feel is this heavy burden of disgust and fear and shame and loneliness and anger.

You quickly wipe the tear that falls, hoping that Jungkook doesn’t see. Your eyes remain glued outside, and you watch the buildings slowly disappear, replaced by little cafes and stores closing shop. It’s a familiar street, one you’ve passed by on some mornings, and you appreciate the familiarity.

The car stops but you don’t look away from the window, afraid that seeing the worry on Jungkook’s face will make you break down.

“We’re at a neighborhood park near your place,” he says. “I’ll just be outside, just in case you need time alone. You can put the radio on blast. You can honk if you need me, or you can come out if you want to. I’m just here.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He just exits the car and walks towards the bench that overlooks the playground. You put the music on loudly, and perhaps just as he expected you to do, you cry. And you cry hard.

You shut your eyes from the pain. It forces you to relive that moment but you do your best to crumple it like paper and then burn it from your memory. You know the burned pieces and the smoke will stay - an alley will trigger you, the scent of cooking oil and cheap cologne will make you gag. It’s how it is with painful memories - they burn you but there’s not much you can do to put out the fire. And when it’s gone, it’s not over. The scars remind you it happened. And then they urge you to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

You don’t know how long it takes for you to cry out all the tears. It feels like they won’t end - they’re the words you couldn’t say earlier, and the words that would haunt you for longer. But they eventually stop falling, and you’re exhausted by the time they do. You have new crescents on your palms, too, and those may go away but you know they’re the only things that will. Everything else will be invisible, and that makes it a harder burden to carry.

Outside, Jungkook glances at the car to make sure you’re still there. He doesn’t think there’s any danger now; he doubts that man got to follow you here, too. But with what happened earlier, there’s this perpetual worry about anything that harms you, and he doesn’t want for there to be even a single second where you’re afraid, where you’re looking over your shoulder in fear, and where you think you’re everything that man said you are.

He can try to keep you safe. He can try to lift you up. But when it’s about trying to forget, trying to move on, he knows there’s not much he can do. He knows a bit about painful experiences and memories that won't leave him. He’s done his best to hide those away, kept in the deepest nooks of his being that’s caused him to conceal parts of himself as well. It’s not easy to do but he does it; all these years later, he doesn’t know how not to.

But then there’s you and somehow, those parts of him that he’s kept hidden come out. Maybe it’s those pieces that will help comfort you, that will help protect you, that will help keep you safe. He’s not sure but if they are, maybe it’s not such a bad thing for them to resurface, if it means you won’t be scared or hurt or alone.

His gaze flits back to the playground. He glances at your direction every few minutes. He wants to respect your privacy, at least as much as what his car and the radio on blast could give. He hopes that all the crying could help ease your pain somehow. He also hopes he’s one person who could.

Jungkook hears the door open and he turns to see you slowly get out. He remains in his seat and waits to see where you go. A minute later, you’re sitting on the bench next to him, your breathing slowed down now, and your hands are less shaky than earlier. Your eyes are still glassy, and he wishes he could wipe the tears away should they fall, but he knows it’s not something he can do.

Both of you sit in silence as you watch the moon dance over the field of grass. It’s peaceful here at this time of the night. It’s not a place you expected him to take you but you’re glad that he did.

You didn’t grow up going to parks because your mother rarely had time to take you; no one could accompany you either. When you moved to Busan during your pre-teen years, you felt you’d outgrown it even if Jimin and Soomin would invite you. There were always so many kids around and you didn’t know how to talk to them or to play with them so you always stayed in your own spot, near the tree where you could watch them run about.

“I didn’t know where to take you but, uh, I loved playing in the playground when I was a kid,” Jungkook bursts through your thoughts. “It somehow always made me feel safe.”

“Did you like going to parks, too?” You ask, finally finding your voice, visibly surprising him.

“Not really. I wasn’t exactly fond of people even as a child,” he softly chuckles, earning him a small smile. “And well, my older brother liked to tease me in front of his friends when we’d play so I would ask to go late in the afternoon once the kids have left. My father picked up on it so he built a playground just for me in our backyard. It was really nice. I’d spend all day there when I was younger.”

A little Jungkook coming down the slide, climbing up the rock wall, and playing in the seesaw looks so wholesome. You wonder if he squealed while on the swing like kids usually do. Maybe. It’s nice to imagine a version of him that’s joyful and free. You wonder when the last time he felt that way was.

You also wonder what has made him share something that feels so personal to him with you. You’re thinking maybe it’s to make you feel comfortable or to ease your nerves; maybe it’s to tell you that unlike Chi-won, he’s not there to threaten you. Maybe Jungkook wants to tell you that he’s someone you can trust, that despite what you are to each other, at this moment, he can be a friend.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you manage to say. “Thank you for coming to find me and keeping him away from me. He… he was someone I used to see and I ended things and I thought we were okay. I hadn’t seen him in a while and—”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he says softly. “I understand that it’s difficult and reliving it might just make you more scared and upset.“

“But I… I need to say it, at least just this once,” you stammer. “Just so it won’t stay in my head like some made-up reality until I’m convinced it didn’t really happen. Because it did.”

He turns to you, his eyes the most sympathetic you’ve seen them, and he nods.

So you tell him - how Chi-won kept staring at you as you ate, how he pulled you towards him and then caged you against the wall.

“He was too close and I could… smell him, as if he wanted me to remember his scent, and that he didn’t want me to ever forget it,” you say.

Your tears fall slowly this time. Your voice cracks and your nails dig into your skin again. It feels so heavy, that even as you try to expend the negative energy, it’s still there. As if the memory itself is tangible, like a sack of sand filling you from inside and it makes you unable to breathe.

But the sight of Jungkook’s trembling hands catches your attention, and you turn to him - his jaws tight and his eyes, tense and deep.

“I’m so angry for you,” he heaves, his fists clenching now. He still wants to wipe your tears but he also wants to go back to the restaurant and finally punch that man’s face. “You should file a case. You have all the grounds for that. I can get him fired and he can lose everything.”

“The law and society in general don’t favor us, Jungkook. I don’t have bruises or anything; that’s what they look for. They think that all harm done only leaves visible marks,” you sigh, knowing that there’s not much you can do. “There’s no other witness but you and that itself… might not look good. If I do file a case, he’ll just bring up our past, my past, and taint my reputation. That’ll just ruin me and everything I worked hard for will be for nothing.”

“But you can’t just let him get away with this, ___,” he insists, feeling unusually emotional now. “He hurt you. And what if he does it again? Telling the police can keep him away. I’ll make sure of that.”

The urgency in his voice is something new to you. But you also know he’s right. Jungkook’s family has connections that run deep. He can very well seek revenge for you for all he wants but he wants your permission, he wants to know it’s what you want.

“I… I can’t risk it,” you say. “If by some miracle the case is successful, he’ll just spend a few months in jail or do community service then he’ll be out. He would lose more and I would be the cause of all that. And what if he tries to get revenge? How do I win?”

At his silence, you continue. “That’s right, I can’t.”

“But… don’t you want to fight?” He asks, almost desperately. His tone is low, as if he’s trying to convince himself that fighting back is the answer. “Don’t you want to make sure that he won’t do it again to you?”

“I do, but what if I lose everything in the process, what then?” You counter. “I… I’m not strong enough for that, Jungkook. That’s not a battle I can fight, not when I’m alone here. Not when I’m also just trying to get by.”

You look back at his eyes, helpless and apologetic now, and at this time, this companionship is what you need. It’s as if he’s telling you with them that you may think you’re on your own but you aren’t. Even as you shiver from within, you don’t feel so alone with him next to you.

“I… I was seeing him for a year but things weren’t serious. He probably just wanted to scare me, to assert control because he lacks it in other aspects of his life. Cowards do that, I guess,” you shrug, trying to reason to yourself how someone you knew fairly well could do something like that to you.

People change, you suppose. Or maybe he’s always been like that; it takes a while sometimes for the demons to come out.

“But cowards don’t have a right to do that,” Jungkook reasons. “They don’t deserve to just walk away and not deal with the consequences.”

“They don’t. But I don’t deserve to suffer more,” you point out. “The things he said… that’s probably enough revenge on his end, I guess. If he wanted to hurt me, well then, he did.”

There’s an emptiness in your eyes that Jungkook sees. There’s a tinge of submission, as if you accept the pain even if you don’t think you deserve it. And maybe that’s why you’re choosing to fight this battle this way. We can’t do anything about how people hurt us, but we choose how much more we let them do it.

“Prove him wrong, then,” Jungkook says. “He doesn’t get to tell you that you’ll be miserable your whole life. So chase what makes you happy. And let yourself be loved.”

It’s permission that he doesn’t have a right to grant, but he supposes that if there’s any way you can defeat that man’s voice in your head, it’s by searching for the things you want and fighting to keep them.

“One day,” you manage to smile at him. “I’ll do those one day.”

It’s like a promise you’re making to him just as you make it to yourself. Jungkook can’t think right now what that would mean. Finding your happiness could lead you anywhere; it sure could lead you away from him.

“So what happens now?” He asks, hoping there’s a way he could help you get through this.

“I continue living my life and not let this define me,” you shrug, half believing in the power of just pushing through it. “I’ll probably be anxious and paranoid for a while but this is what I can do for now. I’ll just be careful and… learn how to deal with all this one day at a time, I guess.”

“And I’ll have Mr. Ri drive you home every night, at least for these next few weeks. Do you need to move houses?”

“Chi-won doesn’t actually know where I live. I never let him come over. I don’t really like having people in my house.”

Jungkook hums to himself. He isn’t that different from you, it seems. But he takes your word for it, not wanting to impose. There are so many things he wants to do, like ruin that man’s life because things like that can’t go unpunished but he trusts you. At the end of the day, it’s your call, and he respects whatever you decide. He’ll just do what he can to protect you, even if he’ll be worried like hell from here on out, an emotion he’s slowly accepting, knowing what that implies.

“I’m sorry you had to witness all that,” you say amidst the silence. “And that you have to deal with this now. I don’t… I don’t want you to think that I’m weak and that I don’t stand up for myself.”

“You know you have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “And not fighting back doesn’t make you weak. I guess staying right where you are is a way of fighting, too.”

“I have people around… somehow,” you comfort yourself. “I’m gonna be fine. I have to believe I will.”

Jungkook nods and manages a smile. At this point, he thinks all he can give you is support and encouragement. He’ll continue to do what he can to keep you safe without disregarding your requests, but staying right where he is with you might just be another way to do that.

“Do you want to pass by somewhere before heading home?” He asks, knowing it’s getting quite late. “A restaurant to grab a drink or something? You didn’t get to have dessert so maybe a cafe?”

“A convenience store is fine,” you smile, knowing the treats that would make you feel better.

Jungkook chuckles, as it’s a place he didn’t really expect you’d want to go to after an experience like the one you just had. But it’s you and he should be used to you surprising him, so he nods and gestures towards the car.

It takes five minutes for you to get there and he looks around and asks what you want to have.

“A cup noodle,” you answer, walking towards the aisle where they’re shelved. “Do you want some? I mean, you eat these things, right?”

“Of course I do,” he scowls at you, picking up one himself. “I just… don’t eat it at a convenience store.”

“Because you don’t go to one?”

“I do. I’m not a spoiled brat who doesn’t know how to do ordinary people things.”

“You mean commoner things,” you raise an eyebrow. “Or plebeian activities. Or non-heir stuff.”

“Whatever. I won’t even defend myself to you,” he huffs, giving in because seeing you amused is a welcome sight.

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” you teasingly smile. “I’m just… laughing at you in my mind.”

You walk towards another aisle and leave him with a smile he’s glad to be making now. He follows and watches you pick up a few more things before you head to the counter where he manages to bring out his card first and pay.

“That's all I can do,” he shrugs after you thank him.

“You’re doing so much for me already,” you assure him. “Taking me somewhere so I could cry, making sure I get home safe… staying with me.”

“That’s not even enough to—”

“You don’t know how to accept gratitude, do you?” You ask as you blow on your noodles. “I notice how you brush it off when someone thanks you.”

“Not used to hearing it, I guess,” he shrugs, not thinking it was something you’d pick up, although there’s no lie.

It’s always been hard for him to say things - that he’s sorry, that he’s thankful, that it’s okay. You, of all people, are the one pointing that out.

“You should be. Because I’ll say it again.” You turn to him and meet his eyes. “Thank you, Jungkook. I thought I’d just go through this alone but I’m not. And that’s… that’s something I’m not used to.”

“You should be,” he repeats your words. “There are some things you shouldn’t be going through on your own. So if there’s anything else you need, you let me know, okay?”

There’s sincerity in his voice as he speaks. You’re used to the low or stern or commanding tone, not this soft and worried one. But it’s the comfort you didn’t know you needed. After spending all that time earlier crying and feeling afraid, being with Jungkook in this bright-lit convenience store is the unexpected warmth that you’re glad you let him give you.

“I will,” you smile. “You know, this is the longest I’ve spoken informally to you. It feels a little weird.”

He laughs as he gets to the same realization. But for him, it almost feels natural.

“It would be weirder if you spoke formally after all that,” he says. “Like I said, if it isn’t about work then I don’t mind.”

You hum in response, not wanting to dwell on the implication. You’re with him after-hours, at a convenience store - that he personally drove you to - where you’re both having cup noodles and soda. This ironically feels more intimate than being in bed with some guy.

You decide to have your dessert, which is really just chocopie, and you mentally curse Chi-won for making you miss the sweet dishes from dinner. But still, you know this one could easily cheer you up. You give one to Jungkook, and his amused tone catches your attention.

“Oh wow, I haven’t had one of these in years,” he says, eating it one bite. “Mother used to give this to me all the time when I was a kid because her best friend owned the company that makes them. There was a time I’d have it as dessert after every meal.”

“Seriously?” You giggle. “That is so weird. This is my favorite. My mom would always buy this for me. When she worked at a school in Busan, she would give it as a treat while I waited for her at the library. That would just always make my day.”

“Hmm, it’s a good snack,” he says, smiling as he takes another piece that you offer and recalls how he used to have this everyday. “So she’d pick you up at the library? Was that your favorite place at school?”

“Hmm, not really, but it reminded me of the one I used to go to,” you reply. “When we lived in Seoul when I was young, there was this family-run library for children in the neighborhood. It was very cozy, with lots of soft chairs and reading nooks on the walls. There were these huge stuffed toys that you could lie on while reading so it felt like someone was hugging you. It had warm lights, not like those usual bright ones. There was this mural of the characters from the books they had,” you narrate, smiling as you remember the days you spent there.

“Mom would pick me up from school during her lunch break then drop me off at the library where her friend volunteered at and I’d wait until she got off work. When we moved to Busan, I kept looking for it. The one at the school wasn’t the same so I didn’t enjoy it as much, but there was nowhere else to go. Eventually I just got used to it, but the chocopie always made the wait worth it.”

It’s the most you’ve ever told him about yourself and you’re surprised at how easy it was for you to do that. He did tell you a little bit about his childhood earlier though, and you’d like to think it’s your way of returning that kind of vulnerability; a story for a story, a piece of your childhood for a snapshot of his.

You look at him and the small smile on his face. Perhaps he’s thinking the same.

“So you like reading books, then?”

“Not really, actually,” you say, earning you a confused look. “I read all the picture books they had. Those are what I liked. And they had these coloring books and paper dolls and I’d spend hours just working on those. Being there made me feel safe, too; it was like my playground, you know?”

“It’s good you had that, then. Do you still visit that place? The one in your old neighborhood?”

“It shut down years ago, sometime before I returned to Seoul to work,” you sigh. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to it. The couple who ran it passed away and no one was interested in continuing it because it wasn’t profitable. But the community center nearby has a small library and I go there sometimes, when I’m really upset.”

“And read picture books?” He chuckles.

“Yes, actually,” you smile. “Memories are powerful and we need to let the good ones win. My childhood wasn’t the greatest but I felt like I was in a different world whenever I was in a library so being in one, even as a grown up, reminds me that there are still places where I’m welcome, where I can feel safe, you know? It reminds me that the world hasn’t completely turned dark. I’ve got to hold onto those to not lose myself.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I… I don’t think I’ve been to a playground in years before today. Other than the one that father built in the backyard at least. And I rarely even see it because I’m rarely there. I guess I just…. Let myself get lost.”

“Well, I hope going to one earlier somehow made you find yourself. Or at least reminded you of those good old days, the days when you felt free and safe and happy.”

Jungkook thinks about what he’d felt earlier, that much as being in a playground again brought him back in time, all he kept thinking about was you - alone in that car while you let all your emotions out. He wanted to comfort you but he didn’t know how, and he thinks that maybe it isn’t about finding himself but learning what he’s capable of, and that after all these years, maybe he’s still capable of caring for another person, and maybe that person is you.

“It did,” he hums, meeting your eyes.

There’s more light in them this time and he wishes it would stay this way. He’d seen you cry months ago and it wasn’t a good feeling, especially because you’d done so because of him. This time, he feels powerless, and he doesn’t know which is worse.

He gets to be with you now though. Perhaps that’s the difference.

You start cleaning up and it’s his signal for both of you to head out.

It takes him ten minutes to drive to your place and a small part of you doesn’t want to leave. Even in the silence, you felt calm, something that you hadn’t expected to feel around him, considering his default tense disposition and usual detachment. But there’s something about his presence, about him just being there - he’s not trying too hard to comfort you, he’s not imposing, he’s also not invalidating your feelings. What matters is you’re not alone, and other than him making that effort, it’s also about you, allowing him to do that, something you don’t always do as well.

“Thank you again,” you say once the car has stopped.

He nods in acknowledgment then turns to you. “It might be best if you take a leave tomorrow, and by that I mean staying home for safety reasons.”

A day to just process everything isn’t such a bad idea, so you agree.

“If it’s not too much for your friends, maybe they could drive up here so they can be with you. Having people around you that you trust might help in making you feel better.”

“I’ll ask them. I don’t want them to worry but I do need them. So thanks, Jungkook. I appreciate it.”

You exit the car and turn around to wave him goodbye. He smiles as you do, and it’s a sight that helps you sleep later that night - after the long bath and another crying session, after the phone call with your friends who promised to be here in the morning, after the time you spend just hugging your pillow, hoping that you’d stop being scared.

But thinking of Jungkook now makes you feel better and you realize the change again - thinking about him now makes you a little braver.

You spend that weekend wrapped up in your best friends’ arms. They arrived on Friday morning with some pork bone soup and seafood that they cooked for lunch and dinner. In the middle of the day, Jungkook texted you and asked how you were doing, and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face, which prompted a conversation about your little crush that you didn’t expect to get tense, with Jimin stating that while Jungkook did help you, being attracted to your boss is complicated and would lead to heartbreak.

You insisted that it was harmless - a half lie, as you hadn’t thought much about it in that sense - and that it’s not something you plan on nurturing. You’re gonna leave the company one day anyway, and you won’t have to deal with him after.

The succeeding days were spent just at home, with you feeling lighter, until Sunday evening when they had to leave, and you felt a little lonely again.

You try to let that feeling go once you enter Jungkook’s penthouse on Monday morning, knowing that with a day off, you’ll have a lot to make up for and you can’t let anything distract you from your tasks.

That includes the man himself, as he exits his home gym in sweatpants and a dri-fit shirt, the sweat sticking to his body that’s got his chest accentuated. His hair is damp and he’s panting; it’s not exactly the sight you wanted to be greeted with, considering all the thoughts in your head these past few days. You’re reminded that just last week, you’d tried to keep your distance and now, he’s making it incredibly hard for you to do that.

“Hey, how do you feel?” He asks as he takes the glass of water you set for him. “Did you get proper rest?”

“Yes, I did, Mr. Jeon,” you reply.

“Hmm, we’re back to that again, huh?”

It takes you a while but you pick up that he’s referring to the formalities.

“I’m back on the clock, sir,” you point out. “You are my boss and I need to address you accordingly.”

It’s not a reminder he wanted, given how he’s been worried sick about you since Thursday night. Even an hour of boxing after he got home that evening couldn’t rid him of his anger. He wished he’d noticed how uncomfortable you were at the restaurant; he’s been paying attention to you anyway but he just got so caught up with impressing the festival organizers that he missed out on the signs. If he’d noticed, he would’ve gotten to you earlier and things wouldn’t have escalated.

He had to control himself from punching that man’s face the moment he saw how close he was to you. Your plea of letting him go was the only thing that kept Jungkook from ruining that man’s life because he really could. He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand it - people like that need to be punished, but it’s people like you who remind him that fighting takes different forms, and you’re the only one who can define what that means.

But it also doesn’t mean that he can’t get angry for you and he’ll probably feel that for a while. Knowing how you are, he knows you wouldn’t want him to pity you either, so he’ll be what he can be, and that’s someone whom you feel safe around. Regardless, maybe the reminder of your roles in each other’s lives is necessary; it’s what he needs to keep himself from doing more, or wanting to be more.

Jungkook finally acknowledges your statement with a nod and then heads to the bathroom for his shower. Shortly after, you walk towards his closet and prepare his outfits for the week. He meets you in the dining room once he’s dressed, and like clockwork, you fix his tie and his suit.

The effect is minimal but somehow, you’ve found comfort in the routine. What once was a tense and nerve-wracking act is now something automatic and essential for you. In a way, it reinforces your place in his life, but the short distance reminds you that he may be faraway or detached in some aspects but physically, he’s so close. It’s a double-edged sword, really. Some days it’s good, some days it isn’t. Today, it’s the former, and as you look up and meet his eyes, the softness in them says he thinks the same.

You go over your usual with him while munching on some pastries that Mr. Ri was ordered to buy and bring up. The ride to the office is filled with discussions on the upcoming year-end events. When you arrive, you attend two straight meetings before having another one over lunch. You accompany Jungkook to a store opening located in one of their properties after that and it’s 4PM by the time you’re able to sit on your desk for more than 30 seconds. You’ve got two hours to finish what you can today but you find yourself spacing out every few minutes.

Perhaps it’s because it’s the first time since Friday that you’re on your own. Your best friends made sure not to leave you by yourself for those three days - Soomin held you while you slept and silently cried in her arms, and Jimin hugged you for much of the day. Their affection was what you badly needed, and now that you’re without it, somehow you feel incomplete and anxious and somewhat unstable.

Scenes are hazy in your mind. You’re at least thankful they’re not vivid anymore unlike a few nights ago, but the dim lights and the stench of the alley come to you without warning, and you suddenly freeze in panic. Your fingers tremble as you try to type away, your eyes unblinking as the tears coat them, and you feel sick to your stomach that you want to just be buried in the covers at this moment.

The door opening causes you to jerk in your seat and Jungkook stops mid-sentence to walk over to you.

“Hey, ___. You can go home,” he says. “It’s been a long day.”

“I… I don’t know if that’ll help,” you admit. “I don’t know if being alone is what I need.”

You go home to an empty apartment just like he does, he reminds himself. He knows what that’s like. It’s why he spends most weekends in the clubs where it’s loud and crowded; those somehow mask the emptiness that can get tiring when all he has is himself. Being on your own is good sometimes; sometimes it also isn’t.

But Jungkook doesn’t know what he can offer you. His presence isn’t something exactly enticing nor comforting; he wouldn’t wanna be with him, too, if he was in a similar position.

“Is there a way that your friends can spend another few days with you? What about your mother?” He asks.

“They have lives back home,” you sigh. “I… I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to force it if you aren’t,” he insists. “I may not know much but I know enough that these things take time. I…”

I wish I could do more for you, he wants to say.

“I don’t have anything urgent for today,” he says instead. “You can clock off now and Mr. Ri and I can take you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” you say immediately.

“I insist,” he replies. “At least for the next few days until we’re sure that you’re not in danger.”

You nod, not having the energy to reason with him. At least you don’t have to think about how to commute home without risking being too close to strangers.

You pack your things and get in the car, with Jungkook letting you bask in the mellow sounds of the radio while he doodles on his leather notebook. You’re tempted to ask him what he’s drawing just to add some more noise but you decide against it, choosing instead to close your eyes and force unpleasant images away from your mind so you can train yourself to do it this time.

It works. Except, it’s the smile of the man next to you that you see, and when you open your eyes, it’s the same thing that greets you.

He chuckles when you look around and realize that you’re home.

“I was trying to wake you but you wouldn’t budge,” he explains. “Are you just tired or you haven’t been sleeping well?”

“Oh, I just kept waking up last night. I guess that’s why. I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “Just try to get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nod and exit the car, feeling out of sorts even as you enter your apartment and know you’re safe inside. You nibble on some leftover pizza and try to entertain yourself with the variety shows on TV but you end up spacing out. You curl in bed, trying as much to feel comfort from your pillow that lays stiff next to you.

You’re not big on physical affection, and most days you’re glad you aren’t because you don’t get any of it anyway, but tonight, it’s what you need. Tonight, you just want that warmth, you want a body to curl into and arms to pull you close. You want hands to caress you and soft lips to plant kisses on the places that hurt. You want to hear soft laughter and random musings and plans for the next day.

The vision ends when you realize that you haven’t experienced much of that before. There were moments during the months you spent with the men you’ve dated, but the feeling of safety was lacking, the warmth wasn’t warm enough, and the desire wasn’t overwhelming. You realize that it wasn’t intimacy you feared; losing it or finding out it wasn’t enough is what you were afraid of, and it’s why you always pulled away. No one ever seemed worth it to try or to stay a little longer for.

You sigh to yourself as you will the tears not to fall. The loneliness can get to you sometimes, especially on days when there’s a kind of pain that’s hard to talk about and all you need is comfortable silence and understanding without words. But you try to push through. You’ve been on your own for so long anyway. Even when you had someone, you still came home to an empty apartment and you still felt like it was enough when it was just you around.

You’re unsure if the desire for something more is just because of what you experienced, if the forced closeness and Chi-won’s burning touch hurt you too much or if you’ve been wanting that intimacy all along. Or if someone’s made you realize that you’re ready for it, that it’s actually worth it.

You manage to fall asleep and drag yourself off the bed to head to Jungkook’s apartment the next day. You drop him off at a restaurant for a breakfast meeting before going to the office where you get to work. It’s a busy day that has you meeting with different departments and coordinating with the organizing teams for the upcoming end-of-year events.

It’s mid-afternoon when you decide to go to the outdoor garden just right off the elevators, surprised to find Jungkook standing by the railings. Dressed in a dark gray suit, he’s got his hands in his pockets while he looks out at the busy streets, and you wonder what goes on in his mind when he looks at views like this.

The sound of the door closing catches his attention, and he turns around, surprised as well to see you here.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yes, I just needed a breather.”

“Am I giving you too much work again?” He shakes his head, finding humor in it now after you pointed out one time how he once gave you so many things to do.

“It’s part of the job, Mr. Jeon. I’ve accepted that now,” you giggle, walking towards where he is then standing some feet away. “But it’s been a busy day and I just needed some air.”

“You can also take a longer break if that’s what you need.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “The busyness helps. I’ll get tired and hopefully fall asleep easily and then do it all again tomorrow and the next day.”

It’s a strategy Jungkook knows well because it’s something he does. Being a perfectionist helps because then, he can work himself to the bone without realizing it until he’s entered his apartment. One glass of whiskey and then he’s falling asleep on the couch.

Weekends are tough, which is why partying and hooking up is his go-to. His best friends have asked him a few times what he’s striving towards, what he’s looking forward to and he couldn’t answer. At one point he stopped wondering, but now he wonders about you.

“What do you look forward to, then?” He asks.

“Vacation, I guess,” you shrug. “I get to be with my friends and family but then that flies too quickly then I’m back to this routine. So maybe… I look forward to the day when I start savoring the moment, when I start enjoying what’s in front of me, when I start… feeling less alone.”

The last words come out subconsciously, prompting you to turn away out of shame. It’s not an easy thing to admit. You wanted this anyway. You chose to leave home to pay back a debt and then decided to stay because you wanted to prove yourself. You chose to not commit to anyone because the pain of loneliness is much easier to bear than the pain of losing someone. This is on you, and you deal with the consequences everyday.

Jungkook doesn’t look confused nor curious. There’s a look in his eyes that you catch before his gaze returns to the streets below. It’s understanding; you realize he knows exactly what you’re talking about. And perhaps he’s on the same boat - letting life just pass him by despite the craziness of it all, perhaps wondering when he’ll stop to smell the roses or watch the sunset or listen to the birds. Maybe like you, he’s wondering when he’ll get to do those with a hand to hold and a body to curl into.

The silence is cut short when you’re alerted that Jungkook’s meeting with the Arts Center project teams starts in 15 minutes. You remind him about it then you both head out and go to your desks to prepare. You’re seated on your chair when you look inside his room, meeting his eyes as he looks outside towards you. There’s a small smile on his face that gives you comfort. It’s soft and assuring, and it’s definitely what you need.

Maybe you can start with this, you think, as he nods at you then meets you at your desk to walk towards the conference room. Maybe these are the things you can start savoring before the day comes that you have to leave this place - these moments of quiet assurance, of understanding, of subtle comfort that tells you that despite the walls between you, he’ll be looking out for you even from afar.

The weeks fly by like a blur.

The Thursday after the incident, Jungkook informed you that he got word from the restaurant manager that Chi-won returned to his home in Mokpo to stay with his parents. The next day, you took the train home to Daegu to be with your mom. She hugged you that night as you cried to her, feeling the strength that she’s had all these years, knowing that you have to be just like her and that this time, you have to be strong for her and for yourself.

Spending time with her, Min-woo, and the girls was rejuvenating, and they promised to visit you in Seoul more regularly. They were in your apartment two weekends after, and it truly felt like you’ve become the family you’ve always wanted to have.

Work continued to be hectic as the year-end activities approached. The busyness definitely helped in moving past what you experienced, allowing you to detach from the memories. You gained the strength to keep fighting the way you wanted, and the people around you continued to be supportive and respectful.

Despite all that went on, you managed in organizing the events while also attending to some that Jungkook was invited to.

The first one was organized by the VP’s Office for the partners of projects that it managed, with the other departments attending as well. It was well-organized, and CEO Jeon himself expressed his satisfaction with how the event came together. Jungkook’s speech was impressive. He ran it with you multiple times and he was able to shake off the anxiety by the time he got to the stage. His eloquence enraptured you; so did the way he looked in another Kim Taehyung-customized textured black suit that had you constantly internally smacking yourself because of all the times that Yoongi caught you staring. You were in full denial about your little crush but knowing your friend, he probably had you figured out, and he’d been kind enough not to push it.

The next event was a big one, as the company hosts an annual fellowship dinner for all its partners, which you had a big role in organizing. A few of you were housed in the serviced apartment building near the office leading up to it, as per Jungkook’s instructions, given that he didn’t want any of you commuting or driving home late at night. You remember how he’d said that he couldn’t risk any of his staff’s safety so casually, and you didn’t think he could be more attractive than that moment. Until, of course, when he showed up in his charcoal suit and parted hair, confidently entertaining the guests and delivering another impressive message. You snuck in a few looks later in the evening as he intently watched a ballad performer on stage, his legs crossed as he drank the flute of champagne and licked the remnants of it on his lips, causing your throat to dry up and promise yourself that you’ll get rid of this crush soon enough.

It doesn’t happen, as the final event of the year rolls around. The fellowship dinner this time is with all the staff, including some from the Southeast Asian office. Jungkook goes for a cream-colored suit this time, a light and clean look that makes him look fresh yet sophisticated. You managed to be professional every time he called for you, and you suppose it’s all the stress getting to you, but being near him made you a little anxious - there was a bit of giddiness that you didn’t want to show, but he somehow also calmed you down. The fact that he kept offering you water and making sure you had something to eat didn’t help. You blurted out that you didn’t expect him to be as thoughtful as he was, and when he said that neither did he but that you brought out that side of him after the incident at the restaurant, you had to keep your cool and act unbothered. He looked shy after, and you suppose that he didn’t mean to say it. But he did, and the words kept you up for the nights after.

You know you’re entering prohibited territory at this point and you wish there’s a way out before you get deep into the woods. You let Soomin and Jimin remind you everyday that you can’t nurture the crush, that the attraction can’t be anything more, that there are serious implications if you did, and that you’re gonna have to get over this as soon as possible. It’s Yoongi who tells you to not overthink it, that the more you force yourself out, the harder it actually becomes.

“There are things you just let happen,” he’d said. “That’s how they eventually fall away.”

“That’s how they get worse, too,” you responded.

“They could go either way, but resisting often ends up hurting more.”

You decide to just let the wave take you along while you train yourself to savor the moments for what they are without giving meaning to them. A smile is just a smile, a look is just a look. You know you’ll be without them one day. Just a few more months until you leave the company, and you won’t have a reason to be around Jungkook anymore. At least before then, you can hold onto whatever memories you retain, and you can learn to look back at them with gratitude that during your hardest moments, he made you feel safe.

It’s now towards the end of December and it’s the Tuesday before Jungkook is set to leave for his three-week vacation tomorrow. He called for an early dinner with the team at his new favorite Italian restaurant, wanting to properly say goodbye before you’ll all be without him for a while.

“Savor it, it won't last long,” he teases. “The holidays will be over soon and then I’ll be back before you know it. So enjoy this time that I’m not around.”

“What do you mean, sir? We’ll obviously miss you!” Do-hyun exclaims. “Mostly the once-in-a-blue-moon lunch and dinner treats and the occasional funny remarks but yeah, we’ll definitely feel your absence around.”

Her exaggerated smile lets everyone know she’s teasing, even if you know deep down, she’s telling the truth. Jungkook’s come around these past months, spending a bit of time with each team member and learning their strengths and weaknesses, mentoring the young ones, and sending pastries or dessert during the most hectic days. He’s still serious most of the time and doesn’t join the occasional post-work dinner that Do-hyun guilt trips you into going. There’s always so much to do and his perfectionism has rubbed off on everyone else, but he has his moments. And you know the team appreciates his efforts, too.

“We’ll see. Maybe when I come back you guys will want another boss or something,” he baits.

“That was like, the first two months of you in your role, Mr. Jeon, but we’re over it,” Do-hyun admits, causing Manager Lee to panic.

He glares at her the way Chin-sun does, but you sit there giggling. Jungkook’s chuckling, too, unable to hide his amusement at the young one’s bluntness.

She apologizes but Jungkook brushes it off, saying those first months weren’t his best. You don’t miss the way he looks at you, though, and you’ve trained yourself to not think too much about it, the way you’ve trained yourself these past weeks to just accept his smiles and glances as they are.

“I also took you all here to thank you for this past half-year,” Jungkook continues. “It was tough. I was tough. And it was a big adjustment for everyone but you all showed how good you are as individuals and as a team and I… I needed that.”

“You led us very well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee assures him. “And tough love works sometimes.”

“I suppose it does, and it goes both ways,�� Jungkook replies. “And so to thank you, I got you all a little Christmas gift, something you can enjoy when you go on your respective breaks.”

At his words, you distribute the letter envelopes to the team and they open them up, gasping in surprise and in obvious delight.

Jungkook instructed you last week to purchase two vouchers at a luxurious spa for each staff member, hoping that a bit of relaxation can help you all. You were speechless when he said which specific package he wanted, and even if you know the price is just change for him, it was still more than you expected.

“A body scrub, massage, facial, and high tea, on top of the use of their super fancy amenities?” Do-hyun enumerates, her eyes widening in awe. “That’s a full day of being luxurious and feeling rich! Mr. Jeon, this is amazing! I’m totally going by myself and going twice!”

You laugh at her antics, not surprised she’d go that route.

“This is so timely, sir,” Manager Lee says. “My wife and I are celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary next month. This is gonna be a good date.”

“And it’s my birthday in a few weeks,” Chin-sun adds. “This would be so lovely to do with my husband.”

“My girlfriend and I fought so I think she’ll forgive me after I take her with me,” Yohan says, earning him a few laughs.

“What about you, ___? Inviting anyone special?” Do-hyun asks.

“Yes, my mom,” you answer. “She’s visiting next week, then we’ll go home to Daegu for the holidays. I’m sure she’d love this.”

“Ugh, of course. Parents come first,” she sighs.

You laugh her comment and turn to Jungkook, thanking him again for the gift. He thanks you for organizing them, too, and the dinner proceeds with candid spa stories and what you’re all doing for the holidays.

Everyone heads home from the restaurant except for you and Jungkook who return to the office to run through last minute instructions and reminders before he flies in the morning.

You’ve got over a week before your own vacation starts where you’ll spend a few days in Wando, Min-woo’s hometown, but that also means needing to get a lot done before that, and then returning to backlogs after but you’ll worry about that next year. Right now, you’ve got documents that need Jungkook’s signatures and some memos you need him to approve.

It’s another hour until you finish, even if a big part of you doesn’t want him to go just yet. Three weeks feels so long when seeing him five times a week for 12 hours was your everyday these past six months. It’s gonna feel a little odd not having your morning routines and car rides. You remind yourself that you’re gonna have to start getting used to that, given that you’re gonna be letting it all go soon enough. Still, it doesn’t mean you won’t miss it. It doesn’t mean you won’t miss him.

“Have you packed everything, Mr. Jeon? Do you have enough coats? You can get pretty cold. What about all your documents? Did you—”

“Yes, I have,” he chuckles, finding it endearing how you’re speaking too fast and making sure he’s got everything ready.

It’s not your job since this is a personal trip but he supposes that lines have blurred a while back, and he won’t deny that he’s enjoying this bit, especially seeing you worry. He wonders if you’ll miss him, too, but he won’t risk asking you even just to tease.

“I’ve gone on trips before, ___. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Just making sure that things are okay. Because I’m definitely gonna be the one you’ll call if they aren’t.”

“Fair point,” he laughs. “But everything’s good. Hoseok has been bugging me and making sure as well. He doesn’t want anything to mess up this trip.”

“It’s really sweet that he insisted you join him and A-yeong,” you gush. “They love their winter trips and I love seeing all their photos afterwards. I can just imagine how beautiful these ones are gonna be.”

“Well, he says he misses me,” Jungkook shrugs. “I was away for a long time and frankly, we’re more colleagues here than family, so he insisted I go with them. But I also think they just want a photographer because the sights are obviously gonna be gorgeous and I happen to take pretty good photos, you know?”

“I wouldn’t argue against that,” you laugh. “Surely being the third-wheel photographer has its perks?”

“We’ll see. I’ll definitely take advantage.”

“I’m sure they’ll spoil you somehow,” you say. “And you get to enjoy the landscape and the fresh air and the northern lights. Those are definitely gonna look good in pictures.”

“I’ll make sure to take them, then. And show you,” he smiles. “But yeah, I’m looking forward to a different scenery.”

“Where would you have gone if they didn’t ask you to come?”

“Not sure. Maybe to Brazil with Tae and Seokjin. Or somewhere like Hong Kong; I went there last year on my own. This time is gonna be different.”

“And you’ll have companions. That would be nice.”

“It would. That’s different, too, but I’m sure it will be good.”

You think about Jungkook spending his break on his own in a foreign country, navigating it by himself, meeting people, being left alone in his own thoughts. Maybe an occasional companion for the night. Or every night. Perhaps drinking on a rooftop bar to welcome the new year. But just him and no one else. You wonder how lonely that might feel, and you’re glad that at least this time, he can be around people who truly care about him.

Jungkook thinks of how else he can keep you longer, knowing he’ll be without you for three weeks which for him, is an extremely long time.

“Remember to enjoy your time there, okay? Don’t think too much about work,” you pout, knowing he still will.

“___, I’ll be on vacation but I won’t be on a break. You know I’ll still expect updates until next week. I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Of course you will,” you tease. “I’ll make sure to keep you posted. I’ll send emails for approvals, maybe call if something urgent comes up.”

“You’re the only one allowed to bother me, about anything. Remember that.”

He says the words with such finality, as if there’s no way for you to resist. You wouldn’t anyway. Other than knowing that you’ll definitely be bugging him for approvals and such, you also would want to know how he’s doing, if he’s enjoying his time away and if he’s getting enough rest.

“I will,” you assure him. “So, uh. You should head out and get some sleep. It’s gonna be a long flight.”

He nods, knowing that he needs to let you go this time. He decides against offering to take you home - you’ve been insisting that it’s not necessary, and that you’ve been fine with your bus rides to your neighborhood in the evening. He doesn’t want to sound desperate so he finally says goodbye.

He lingers, as he doesn’t move for a good half minute and just stands there by your desk, giving you a look to express things that he can’t ever say.

“Goodbye, Jungkook. Take care of yourself out there,” you finally say.

“Goodbye, ___. You do the same. I’ll see you when I get back.”

It’s another few seconds before he manages to start walking away. One last glance then he leaves. And he convinces himself that the sullen look in your eyes means that you’ll be thinking about him while he’s away, the same way he’ll be thinking about you, perhaps while he looks at the sky, knowing it’s the same one you’ll be looking at, and then you wouldn’t feel so far away.

The time on your watch reads 11:10. The plane should be leaving anytime soon, and you wonder how Jungkook is doing, if he was able to sleep well and eat at the airport lounge. You at least know he got there on time. Mr. Ri arrived some time ago to say that he’s dropped Jungkook off and that he was instructed to take you to work and bring you home until your boss comes back from his vacation. You didn’t argue, knowing that it’s Jungkook’s way of making things convenient for you, given all the responsibilities you have to carry while he’s away.

But other than that, you don’t know how he’s doing without any update from him. Which is silly for you to even expect. This is a personal trip, after all, and even if the line has somehow blurred after everything that’s happened between you two, you shouldn’t be waiting for some message about him having boarded or something. You’ll maybe just wait for his email asking for updates about his father’s comments on the policies that Jungkook drafted for approval. Or once A-yeong has posted on social media that they’ve landed.

You shake your head, knowing that liquidating expenses is more important right now than your boss. But then your phone beeps and the smile on your face is immediate.

[From: VP Jeon] The plane arrived late so we just boarded. I’ll get some work done during the flight but I just emailed you an end-of-year message for staff. Can you check if it sounds good?

[To: VP Jeon] I will, sir. Have a safe flight.

[From: VP Jeon] Thanks. I’ll let you know when we’ve landed.

Simple and professional, you think, but somehow the thought of him messaging you before takeoff - even if it’s work-related - has you feeling giddy. There’s no desire for more. Just knowing he’s okay and also still thinking of you has you satisfied.

You don’t get to wipe off the smile quick enough for Yoongi not to see, as you hear him clearing his throat, prompting you to look up and see his amused face.

“I was just checking in to see how you’re coping with your boss away but it seems you’re doing fine,” he starts. “Unless… he’s the reason why you’re smiling.”

Your silence confirms his suspicion, and he merely laughs in response.

“Yah! You’re supposed to reprimand me,” you pout at him.

“And what would that do?” He challenges. “You’re an adult. ___. You feel what you feel, you do what you do. It’s up to you how you want this to play out.”

“Well, I’ll tell you how it will play out,” you say. “I will continue doing what I’m supposed to do, wait for the Arts Center to open, resign, then never have to see or think about him again. And I’ll be content with that.”

Yoongi doesn’t press or counter you, choosing instead to just agree with your plan and be the supportive friend you need him to be, even if your eventual resignation will make him incredibly sad.

You’re very particular with the people you let in, with the people you allow to become an important part of your life. He’s lucky he didn’t scare you away for you to distance yourself from him, and though you didn’t return his feelings, he supposes that’s better. He gets to be someone you feel comfortable enough to be with, to be honest with, and that’s more than he can ask for. However you choose to approach whatever it is you’re feeling for Jungkook, his friend who’s just as cautious when it comes to people, Yoongi will just be there like he has all these years.

“Anyway, is that all you came here for? To know how I was doing?” You ask.

“I sent you the designs and proposals I need Jungkook to go through,” Yoongi responds. “He said to submit them and he’ll review those while he’s there. I wasn’t going to since I want him to actually rest and enjoy his vacation but he’ll be on my ass about it.”

He explains his vision, which you note down so you can articulate it when Jungkook asks. Yoongi leaves you to work on all your tasks, making sure to send you a teasing smile on his way out.

You continue with your day, ending it with an email to your boss about what transpired and the documents he needs to approve. He responds past 1AM the next day during his layover in Amsterdam. Two hours after that, he messages you that they’ve arrived in Denmark and will have dinner before going to bed.

It’s the day after, on a Friday, when he schedules a video call with you that has you fixing your hair and retouching your lipstick before picking up. He shows up on the screen donned in a white jumper, his unstyled hair making him look cozy and much more boyish than you’re used to. You let yourself be familiarized with the scene, with him seated by a desk with the large window behind him showing clear blue skies and colorful structures. He seems to do the same, as the silence lingers for the next half a minute or so.

He speaks up first, greeting you and asking how you’ve been.

“I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. Getting a lot done on the post-event admin work,” you reply. “How about you? You look refreshed and relaxed. That’s a new sight to see.”

“It’s probably the Copenhagen air,” he says. “It’s gorgeous out here. And the buildings are beautiful. We’re staying at this nice boutique hotel that Hoseok and I explored yesterday. It’s giving us ideas for a serviced apartment with this kind of design. Or maybe villas by the mountains.”

“Oh, talking about work while on vacation, I see,” you shake your head. “I bet A-yeong regrets inviting you to join them.”

“Maybe another day of Hoseok and I just going to hotels and random buildings and she already will,” he laughs. “It’s work but also not. It’s nice to feel inspired by the surroundings. I realized that doesn’t really happen when I’m there.”

“Oh I’m sure. You’re VP Jeon when you’re here and there, you’re just a regular person, a traveler, an architect. As long as you’re getting the rest that you deserve,” you smile.

“That’s true,” he nods, taking your words in.

He’s just him while he walks past the canal, while he explores the city and its vibrant structures; he’s just a man in a foreign country who doesn’t have to connect with people, he just has to connect with what’s around him.

“So, let’s go over your email and the things I need to review and approve,” he continues.

Your hour-long meeting proceeds with approvals and instructions, and he impresses you with how much he’s done despite being on vacation. You suppose he’s still jet lagged and is just taking advantage, but you remind him again that the weekend is coming and you won’t be working, so neither should he.

“I know, don’t worry,” he assures you. “We’re heading to other towns these next few days before taking the train to Sweden. I’ll have time to work but also to enjoy the scenery.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re able to take a break from all the craziness back here,” you say, meaning it.

He works so hard and you always wonder if he allows himself to breathe, to take a pause so he can look forward to something, and then savor it when it comes.

“Me, too. So when you take your vacation, I expect the same from you, alright?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, sir,” you laugh. “I am gonna completely shut out once I clock off next Friday. You won’t hear from me until I’m back here.”

“Of course,” he says after a beat of silence. “You deserve a longer break, actually. You know you can always request for an extension.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to deal with so much backlog,” you respond. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go and people to drag with me. Plus, I’ll have a few days off for my birthday next month so I’ll definitely have more chances for rest.”

Jungkook nods, knowing that time will be bittersweet for him because you’ll get to have your break while he’ll be without you. Just like how it is now, as he’s on this vacation while you’re left to do so much work thousands of miles away from him. It also means he doesn’t get to do his routine with you, something that’s given him comfort and a sense of stability these past months. Seeing you through this call is his only way to remain connected with you, a chance to know how you’re doing, a moment to hear your voice and see the smile he’s been without. It’s just been two days but he already feels it’s much longer.

He finally lets you go, knowing you’ll be clocking out soon. Even if he doesn’t want to yet, he says goodbye.

As you asked, he savors their second day in the city, but he sees you everywhere - in all the greenery that he passes, in the library down the street, in the cafe with all the pastries that they eat at, and in the sky as he falls asleep at night. There’s comfort in knowing it’s the same one you wake up to every morning.

Not having Jungkook this long is a little disorienting. Sure, he’s been away a few times, but he’d still call or message to ask something or to give you instructions. It’s become your habit to bring him coffee every few hours, and you find yourself making one only to realize that he isn’t around.

Seeing him in A-yeong’s social media feels quite intrusive, but you couldn’t help but watch her Instagram stories, with him in a green fleece jumper as he walked down charming streets last Saturday, and then a black coat over a blue sweatshirt as he strolled the beachside on Sunday. He called the day before, on Tuesday afternoon, for your regular check-in, another hour of talking about work, even if all you wanna hear about is how his days have been. You’ve never thought about it as much before, but somehow seeing him in this way makes you care, it makes you want to know what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking.

You shake away the thoughts as Wednesday ends. It’s been a week since he left and there’s over two more weeks until he’s back. You’ll have another call on Friday and there won’t be another one until you return from your own vacation, and the thought saddens you, knowing there won’t be a reason for either of you to reach out.

But you take it as a challenge, as a way for you to slowly get him out of your system. Hopefully being without him for a while will help.

Friday comes and the call with Jungkook goes a little longer than usual. It’s towards the end when Hoseok and A-yeong make an appearance, as they’re all staying at a rental by the lake in a town in Sweden, and are about to have their breakfast.

“___!” Hoseok chirps. “Is my cousin still working you to the bone?”

“Asks the man who has hours-long meetings with his assistant every other day. If I may say, Hoseok, you’re driving Bitna crazy. I think I just saw her earlier pulling her hair out,” you tease.

“Ah, I don’t blame her. There’s just too much going on,” he sighs. “But at least I’m off her back now. It’s your last day before your break, you shouldn’t even be working right now! You should just be hanging out with the team before you all go out for dinner!”

“Like you said, there’s just too much going on,” you counter.

“These men never stop working, do they?” A-yeong huffs from next to her husband, prompting you to nod in agreement. She turns to Jungkook with her arms on her waist. “I’m telling you now, Kook, how are you gonna find a girlfriend when all you do is work, work, party, work, party, and work? Hmm?”

Jungkook chuckles, his hand behind his neck as he tries to give an answer. You can imagine A-yeong hampering him about this, given that she’s quite the proponent when it comes to companionship. It’s why she’s always patient with Hoseok, and why they love each other as much as they do. There’s understanding and respect, there’s trust and honesty. She’s not afraid to tell him when she feels neglected, and he makes up for it immediately.

“I’ll find her when I’m meant to,” Jungkook responds. “But anyway, I was just about to let ___ go.”

“Finally,” Hoseok says. Turning to you, he gives you that warm smile that you adore. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bug you during your break.”

“Good,” you respond, even if the thought saddens you a little. “Anyway, it looks so pretty out there. I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it.”

“It is! And the sights are spectacular, ___. It’s definitely a must-visit,” Hoseok replies.

“One day,” you say, knowing it’ll probably never happen. Still, you indulge him. “I’ll settle with pictures for now, so you better take lots of them for me to see.”

“Ah, Kook is the resident photographer! He’s been taking a lot so he’ll show you.”

“That would be nice,” you smile. “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you from enjoying your day. So I’ll go ahead. I’ll see you all when you get back!”

They bid you goodbye, and there’s that nod again, that smile, that softness that you’ve started getting used to seeing on Jungkook. It’s what you think about during the team dinner an hour later, while in the car going home as soft music plays, and as you fall asleep.

You hold onto that last image of him, until the next day when A-yeong posts on her socials again. It’s those snippets of his life that make you pause during the day and keep you up at night. There’s so much about him that you’re drawn to, that you want to get to know, that you want to protect.

He’s like a movie that plays in the local theater - captivating, intriguing, yet you remain a spectator and then it ends, moving on and you’ve only got the memory of it etched in your mind. It’s not yours to watch whenever you want and no matter how much you try to analyze it, it’ll always just be your interpretation, not his. He’ll remain as a moving image that you want so much to capture but seems too big, too overwhelming, too far.

But there are instances when you think you’ve got him for a second, that you understand him a little. There are moments like arriving at his penthouse the morning after he gets back from his trip with his mussed hair and oversized jumper that he feels more human, more flawed, more tangible.

It’s when he smiles at you and says that it’s nice to see you again that he feels within reach. It’s also the moment you realize that him being away didn’t really help. If anything, it intensified that feeling that you know you can’t have. You’re gonna lose him one day, and when you do, you hope for only the good memories to stay.

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osaemu · 9 months ago

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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene.

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against.

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room.

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor.

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal?

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own.

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second.

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket.

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips.

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you.

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate.

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin.

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you.

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat.

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”

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sirfrogsworth · 5 months ago

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Hard & Soft: An Explanation of Light

I was watching a video from one of my favorite tech YouTubers, Mr. Whose the Boss. He was showing off some of his favorite tech and pulled out this tiny LED light.

And then he placed a diffuser on the front and said this...

"You can equip a softbox on the front which *massively* softens the light on your face."

Sorry, Arun.

No it doesn't.

I sometimes wish I could get a job as a YouTube lighting advisor. So many creators have to set up and use professional lighting but very few actually have an understanding of how their lighting works. And with just a little knowledge they could up their lighting game big time.

If nothing else, I could stop the plague of ring lights.

Ring lights are my nemesis.

*shakes fist at ring lights*

Arun repeated a classic myth. Diffusing a light does *not* make it softer. And despite the name, a softbox is fully capable of producing hard light. Especially if it is only the size of your granddad's wallet.

I'm afraid softboxes are a bit misnamed—much like how the tremolo system on a guitar is technically a vibrato mechanism. Tremolo is a fluctuation of volume, not pitch. Personally, I just stick to calling it a whammy bar because that is more fun anyway. And, like, what does "whammy" even mean in the context of a guitar? I'd rather call something by a nonsensical name than an inaccurate one, ya know?

What the hell was I saying?

SOFTBOXES!

They should probably be called "light homogenizers." Which is a mouthful, but more accurate.

Or, hear me out... WHAMMY BOXES.

Froggie Note: I am trying a color coding technique to help make the most important information stand out. Red means PAY ATTENTION and blue means "do your best to remember this." Let me know if this is helpful or annoying or if a different color combo is preferred.

Hard Light vs. Soft Light

Hard light is a less flattering light source that creates high contrast, sharp shadows, and accentuates texture.

Soft light is a more flattering light source that creates soft shadows and reduces texture like pores, blemishes, and wrinkles.

You can *only* get hard or soft light by changing the apparent size of a light source from the subject's point of view.

If you remember only three things about light, they should be...

Bright light = sharp photos, less noise Hard light = small light source Soft light = large light source

Now, it's important to remember that hard light is not *bad* and soft light is not *good*. In photography, the oft-used parlance "flattering" just refers to the rendering of facial features and blemishes. So you might use a more flattering lens to make sure faces do not distort or a more flattering light modifier to reduce wrinkles.

But there are situations where soft light can be very boring and hard light can be much more dynamic and interesting. But if you have someone who is insecure about their skin or has a lot of blemishes, you can mitigate that by making the light softer. But if you have someone with great skin and a lot of angular facial features, you might use a hard light to show that off.

Which of these do you prefer?

The one on the left was taken with a 7 foot diameter light source and is *very* soft. But the other had a 1 foot diameter and I think it is more dynamic and interesting.

You can also mix hard and soft light. And with something like a parabolic reflector or a beauty dish, you can even modify a light source to be hard and soft at the same time.

This technological terror of a light modifier is sort of like having 24 individual small lights around the edges but the entire surface of the reflector also acts as a single large light source.

And when it isn't atomizing Alderaan, it is taking photos like this...

This creates a falloff of light around the edges of her face, nose, and arms while also reducing the intensity of the shadows. Lenses with longer focal lengths prevent distortion of facial features but also flatten our faces. So a modifier like this can bring back dimensionality.

Neat!

Now I just need $8,000 to buy the Death Star light.

There are a ton of possibilities when it comes to modifying light sources, but most people typically want the main light on the subject to be in the realm of soft and use hard light sources as edge lights.

Also, everything is a spectrum and light is no different. There is a giant space in between hard and soft to play with. In fact, the hardest light possible would be cast on a subject floating in space.

And the softest light possible would be on a planet that has 100% cloud coverage that still allows sunlight to scatter through.

So, I have determined the surface of Venus to be the most flattering light in the universe.

Look at how dark and sharp that astronaut shadow is! And I'm sure Venusian photography would be quite popular if you wouldn't burst into flames.

On planet Earth, noon on a clear day would be the hardest light and a very overcast day would be the softest light.

How can the sun be both hard and soft light?

Well, the sun is quite large, but it is very small in the sky and very far away. It is the only thing humans can observe that is close to a "point" light source—the smallest light source possible that shines light equally in all directions.

But on an overcast day, sunlight scatters through all of the clouds and becomes a HUGE homogenous light source. The clouds become a singular giant light above us. And as you can see, the light is so soft the woman does not have a hint of shadow on her face. And shadows can draw attention to pores, wrinkles, blemishes, and other textures.

But wouldn't the smallest light source be a laser or something?

When photographers refer to a small light source we mean from the perspective of the subject being lit. This is referred to as apparent or angular size.

But you also have to account for the size of the area the light source can illuminate.

This is the area a laser can light up.

And this is the area the sun is able to cats cast light upon.

It doesn't matter if a laser is close or far away, it focuses light onto a very small area. But the sun lights up half the planet. So look at imagine the apparent size of the sun in the sky and compare its size to half of the Earth. In that relative circumstance, the sun is a super tiny light source.

And the sun becomes an even tinier light source on the moon because there is no atmosphere or clouds to scatter and enlarge it.

You can change the apparent size of a light source in two ways...

The physical dimensions of the light and the distance from the subject.

A light with small dimensions can be a large light source if it is close enough and if the subject is small enough. So a flashlight could be a large light source for an ant if that flashlight is directly next to said ant. But a flashlight could never be a large light source to a human.

However, we can enlarge small light sources with modifiers.

A modifier can be a softbox. It can be a piece of paper. A large poster board. A wall or a ceiling. Anything that changes the nature of a light source can be a modifier. But not all modifiers increase the size of a light source.

So, you can take that flashlight, shine it on a wall, and reflect the light to make a giant light source capable of producing softer light.

But what you cannot do is put diffusion material directly in front of a flashlight and make the light it produces softer.

When Arun put that diffuser on the front of that tiny light, he was not making the light any bigger. He was only making the light more diffused.

What does diffusion *actually* do?

Diffusion scatters light. It makes light bounce in all directions and keeps it from being focused. And while this is an important aspect to making a light source larger, it does not change the apparent size of a light source on its own.

Diffused light is homogenous.

A homogenous light source has the same intensity across its entire surface area. And that homogenization is the key to creating a better soft light source. It can *assist* in making a light source larger, but only if you know how to wield that diffusion properly.

When you shine a flashlight toward a wall, you increase the apparent size of the light source.

Fantastic! You now have a softer light. Mission accomplished.

But if you do not diffuse it, you will create a hotspot.

That bright hotspot will reflect more light than all of the other light reflecting off the wall. That reflected light has different intensities across its surface area and you end up creating TWO distinct light sources—one hard and one soft.

This can sometimes be desired if you want to create graduated light that falls off like I showed earlier. But if it is not controlled well with a specialized modifier a hotspot can cause more problems than benefits.

This can reveal unwanted texture, double shadows, cause harsh glare, and it may not achieve the desired amount of soft, flattering light you were hoping for.

However, if you diffuse the light from the flashlight before it hits the wall, the light will scatter and reflect off the wall more evenly. You will create a more *homogenous* light source that acts as a single entity of light.

Diffusion does reduce the overall intensity of the light, but that is usually a worthy trade off for the increased homogeny.

These pesky hotspots are actually a big problem with those cheap softboxes you can buy off Amazon.

Many of them do not have enough diffusion to create a single homogenous light source. So they end up with a hotspot that gives you that double light source effect.

I was able to fix this with my friend Katrina's softbox by adding a layer of tracing paper in front.

You can see the chip clip holding the tracing paper in place on the right side.

Photography is just problem solving all the way down.

A higher quality softbox will have a second layer of diffusion already built in to prevent this, so make sure the softbox has this feature before buying.

Or invest in a roll of tracing paper and some chip clips.

Softboxes are an ingenious light modifier when built properly. They take a small light, diffuse it, enlarge it, and then focus it toward your subject. It's essentially a paradox of scattered & focused light. And since all of the scattering only happens *inside* the softbox, it gives you great control over how that light hits your subject. And you can focus it even more by putting a grid on the front.

This keeps light from "spilling" off to the sides though it can reduce intensity a bit and create unusual looking catchlights in the eyes.

Whereas a cheap shoot-through umbrella kinda "shoots" scattered light all over the place and causes a ton of extra reflections off the walls and ceilings. That may end up giving you unwanted second, third, and fourth light sources contributing to your exposure.

You can see light hitting the left and right walls and the ceiling—those pesky photons are going everywhere! And while it is giving a soft, flattering result due to that umbrella being so freaking big, you have almost no control over the light and how it affects your background.

So, yes, a softbox can make a small light source bigger, but that doesn't always mean you will get "soft" light.

This softbox takes a 10 inch LED panel and creates a 12 inch light source. This is mostly a scam product.

The marketing says it makes the light softer.

And while that is *technically* true, I'm afraid people are going to be disappointed if they think this thing is going to dramatically soften their light. A small increase in surface area like that would only be dramatically different if you were lighting a little toy car or the hypothetical ant friend I mentioned earlier. Something the size of a person is not going to see a difference in softness. Not to mention you are going to decrease the power of your light by adding diffusion and have no softening benefits.

Photography gear companies love taking advantage of new photographers because the desire to buy more gear to improve the quality of photos is quite strong. This is jokingly referred to as G.A.S. or "Gear Acquisition Syndrome." And while there is absolutely gear you can buy to improve your photos (lights, lenses, tripods), knowledge trumps any piece of gear at any time.

So, no, this scam softbox will not make the light appreciably softer. The only way to make this light softer is to find a softbox that enlarges it more than 2 friggin' inches, bounce it off something larger, or bring it closer to the subject. Move your light as close as possible and you will enlarge its apparent size.

Or, conversely, you can move your light farther away to make it hard.

Meaning you can technically make a softbox a hardbox.

Seriously, can we just do the whammy box thing?

So, what have we learned?

Soft light is more flattering to skin and reduces texture and harsh shadows.

Hard light increases contrast, sharpens shadows, and highlights texture.

Neither is good or bad. Soft light can be boring. Hard light can be interesting. A mixture of the two often produces the best result.

The only way to make light softer is to enlarge the light source.

You can enlarge a light source by...

Increasing the physical dimensions with a modifier.

Moving the light closer.

Reflecting the light off a larger surface.

Diffusion alone does not make a light softer.

Diffusion makes a light source more homogenous by mitigating hotspots.

Softboxes create homogenous light that you can direct and focus.

A softbox can still produce hard light if it is really small or really far away.

We should call it a whammy box.

How can you use this knowledge?

Well, the first thing you can do is...

DON'T BUY A RING LIGHT.

YES, I AM RANTING ABOUT RING LIGHTS AGAIN!

That giant hole in the middle of your light is a great spot for extra light.

And as we just learned, a larger light source is softer. So unless you specifically need a ring light and know how to use it (facial close-ups, camera goes in the hole), you are better off getting the biggest light you can fit in your space.

Look at how much bigger this light is than if it were a ring light.

It's like all of these influencers are throwing perfectly good light into the garbage.

Sorry, let's try this again.

Once you avoid ring lights, how can you use this knowledge?

I know a lot of you reading this are not influencers or YouTubers or photographers. And you may be thinking all of this knowledge I just shoved in your dome is useless.

But here's the thing...

We all take photos.

And I think we all want our photos to look their best.

If you start thinking more about light when you take photos, I promise you will be able to improve their quality.

If you are taking a selfie, think about where you can go that has a larger light source. Perhaps you have a large window. Or you have a big overhead light or floor lamp that shines up into the ceiling.

I actually had this idea to create a mega light that could blend in with a house's decor, but secretly be a photography light for taking pictures of people and pets indoors at night.

Secret Photography Light Ingredients Cheap Floorlamp Dual Light Socket Adapter 9000 Lumen LED Bulbs

(Seriously, if you put that together, stick it in a corner, and turn it on when your kids or pets are playing, you will never have another blurry photo from inside your house unless they are going full zoomies.)

If you are outside on a sunny day, don't stand in direct sunlight.

Remember, THE SUN IS ACTUALLY SMALL, angularly speaking. Find a shady spot under a tree. Or put the sun behind you and face a big white wall so the reflected light smacks you in the face.

Walls are light sources!

The ground is a light source!

Remember that moon photo?

You were looking at the sharp shadow earlier because I drew your attention to the sun being a small light source.

But the surface of the moon... HUGE LIGHT SOURCE.

How do you think the front of that space suit is lit when the sun is behind him? Either Stanley Kubrick has a big reflector offscreen or the ground is a soft second light source.

If you can't make it to the moon, just wait to take that selfie on a cloudy day. I think overcast light is a little boring, but your skin will look buttery smooth without using those stupid Facetune apps.

You can also wait for good light. Sometimes sunset has some nice, soft directional light because it has more atmosphere to scatter, diffuse, and enlarge it.

If you are indoors, don't use direct flash on your phone. Never ever use direct flash if you can avoid it. But perhaps you are with friends and they all have phones too. Use one or more phones to bounce the flashlight off a nearby wall. Or open up a paper napkin and hold it just out of frame and shine light through it and diffuse it.

A piece of paper can even work!

Flashlight 3 feet away shining directly onto my face...

Flashlight shining through a piece of paper a few inches in front of it...

Flashlight shining through a piece of paper 2 feet away that is just out of frame...

I started with a small light source.

I then made the light source a little bigger with the paper, but the diffusion was too close and it created the dreaded hotspot of doom.

And then I made the light source as big as I could by moving the paper as close to my face as possible without being in the shot. This also gave the light more room to scatter and diffuse making it homogenous.

Froggie Tip: I was using a pretty powerful flashlight, so with a phone you might get better results *bouncing* the light off the paper rather than shining the light through the paper.

So, before you take a photo, just think about how you can make your light source bigger, brighter, and more homogenous and you might be surprised how much better you look.

ANYONE CAN DO THIS!

#photography #photography education #hard light #soft light #long post

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novafire-is-thinking · 2 months ago

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Medic, Maverick, Maniac, Murderer: Understanding Pharma

First thing’s first: I love Pharma, dearly.

In all the time I’ve spent evaluating his character, I’ve mainly focused on what can be worked out about who he is as an individual: his core sense of self, psychological drives, subjective worldview, etc.

When all else is stripped away, who is Pharma?

This treatise is the product of obsessing over Pharma, analyzing canon (and extras), and reading as many different perspectives on his character from fans across the fandom as I could find. The post is long, so for those of you who balk at the thought of reading a shortfic’s worth of Pharma thoughts, feel free to read the TL;DR (Conclusion) at the end and then decide if the full read is worth your time. Also, a premium reading experience is available in the form of the original Google Doc version.

As you read, keep in mind that this is primarily a mix of psychoanalysis, evidence-based examination, and speculation—not moral, ethical, or sociological commentary. The goal is to examine Pharma’s psychological drives and core values, and each of his appearances in the context of those. All other types of evaluation are up to readers.

Now, take your victim blaming-allergy meds (just in case); remove your black-and-white thinking caps; and leave your personal morality lenses at the door.

Psychological Drives & Core Values

Why does Pharma act the way he does? What gives him a reason to keep living? What are his personal priorities?

At the beginning of the Delphi arc, First Aid establishes Pharma as a “control freak” and someone who “thinks he’s an expert on everything.”

Now, First Aid has a habit of complaining about his bosses, but on both points, there’s canon evidence to back them both.

Expertise and Intellect

Throughout the Delphi and Luna 1 arcs, it’s established that Pharma is a skilled and brilliant doctor.

He once performed a 4-way fuel pump transplant, donating his own fuel pump in the process. (see above panel)

Later, he invented a soundbomb that left an echo laced with a virus and invented an antidote to that virus:

And on Luna 1, he was on the edge of finding a cure for Cybercrosis, based on the fact that Swerve was able to formulate a cure from his notes.

More than being a doctor, Pharma lives for intellectual and scientific achievement as a physician scientist. He feels most alive when he’s able to solve complex medical problems, and when his achievements are recognized by those whose opinion he considers important.

This is Pharma’s 'why.'

And even though he’s arrogant and enjoys praise, it’s not his primary motivation. He doesn’t need it in order to set his mind to whatever he’s interested in, although he’ll seek it from those he values most (i.e. Ratchet).

Pharma sees himself as less of a doctor, and more as a scientific innovator or medical maverick. The practice of medicine is primarily a catalyst for his creativity and intellect; it’s not an end in and of itself like it is for someone like Ratchet or First Aid.

First Aid’s observation of Pharma can be better phrased as, “[Pharma] thinks he’s an expert on everything medical”—because he’s not so driven by achievement and admiration that he’ll grovel at the feet of strangers and get good at something he doesn’t personally find interesting. The only time we see him express a desire for praise is when he’s around Ratchet—someone he holds in high regard for both personal and professional reasons. This makes sense since Ratchet is one of the only people who can give Pharma any kind of competition within what he considers to be his area of expertise.

“Each day we go to our work in the hope of discovering—in the hope that some one, no matter who, may find a solution of one of the pending great problems—and each succeeding day we return to our task with renewed ardor; and even if we are unsuccessful, our work has not been in vain, for in these strivings, in these efforts, we have found hours of untold pleasure, and we have directed our energies to the benefit of mankind.” —Nikola Tesla

Ego

Without question, Pharma has an inflated ego, but having an inflated sense of self doesn’t automatically mean a person is a full-blown narcissist or that they are totally uncaring.

Every personality trait exists on a spectrum. Yes, Pharma is arrogant, but the presence of arrogance doesn’t automatically and completely cancel out all “positive” traits. (For fun, check out studies on Dark Tetrad and Light Triad personality traits.)

People are complex. Arrogance can coexist with genuine kindness, ruthlessness can coexist with deep compassion, etc.

Whether Pharma exhibits genuine kindness is up to each reader’s interpretation of what little canon material exists, but the point is: Pharma’s arrogance doesn’t automatically rule out the possibility of authentic “positive” traits.

Controlling Tendencies

Pharma is comfortable pulling the power card and using it to dump what he sees as uninteresting parts of medical practice on those below him:

“So Fisitron’s writing about the Wreckers’ elbows now, is he?” said Delphi’s Chief Medical Officer. “Come on, First Aid - get to it. You’ve got a Fader in Row 2 downstairs.” He squeezed the air with his finger and thumb. “He’s about this far from shutdown.” —from Bullets by James Roberts

However, there’s nothing in canon indicating he’s power-hungry in a megalomaniacal sense. He’s not Starscream or Megatron; he doesn’t seek political or social power. In fact, he seems perfectly happy hiding away in a lab or medibay by himself so he can direct all his energy toward solving issues and achieving the so-called ‘impossible’ within the field of medicine:

The ways in which Pharma exercises power and control are through his expertise, and his administrative/management skills. That’s it.

Self-confidence

Pharma’s arrogance and controlling tendencies don’t seem to be a mask—like he’s trying to compensate for some sense of lack (in those areas). Yes, he fears failure, and yes, he displays some insecurity when Ratchet questions his competence. But at every other point and in every other way, Pharma is unapologetically self-confident. He’s fully self-assured of his intellectual prowess and problem-solving capabilities; he knows what he knows, and he also knows what he doesn’t know.

Pharma’s arrogance and desire for control don’t stem from a hidden lack of confidence or a hunger for power on its own. They stem from the fact that he genuinely sees himself as the best person for the work he does. He trusts himself above anyone else to solve problems that come his way—medical or otherwise (within limits).

Elitism vs. Superiority

I’ve always read Pharma as having an elitist attitude, but not in the social stratification sense:

elitist (adj.) relating to or supporting the view that a society or system should be led by an elite.

There’s no evidence that Pharma believes an elite class of people should hold the most power. Instead, Pharma’s “elitism” is actually an individualistic sense of superiority. It’s centered on him alone, and is tied to his capabilities as a physician scientist and surgeon.

Pharma sees himself as the best of the best and makes sure everyone knows it—sometimes through his words, but mostly by his conduct in the field of medicine. This, paired with Pharma’s natural temperament, doesn’t exactly make him socially popular—inside or outside of medicine:

One could argue that the “personality” Lockdown is referring to was a result of all Pharma had suffered at Delphi and Luna 1, but just as easily, one could argue he was always a bit difficult to get along with, and that his traumatic experiences merely magnified his already-present psychological patterns. Personally, I like the latter interpretation because it’s a flaw that makes Pharma a more interesting character no matter his mental state.

Everyone reacts differently to real and perceived social rejection. Some are so concerned about it that they’ll try anything to belong; others genuinely don’t care, and they continue as usual; and still others cope by shifting their mindset and developing a sense of pride in being an outsider.

There’s no evidence for this in canon, but I believe it’s within reasonable characterization boundaries to headcanon Pharma as being in the second or third category.

With either of those two mindsets, a sense of superiority can develop, or even be an inciting factor. Either someone sees themselves as genuinely superior to the majority and doesn’t mind when this alienates them from people, or they convince themselves they’re superior because the pain of accepting they were rejected for who they are is too much to handle.

Whatever the case, the point is, having an “elitist” attitude isn’t necessarily rooted in a sociological or ideological belief. Sometimes, individuals just see something in themselves that—to them—justifies a sense of personal superiority. A quick glance at Pharma’s canon appearances makes it clear he holds such a view of himself, at least to some degree.

Morality and Compassion

When Pharma first shows up in canon, he’s working at the New Institute. A lot of questionable things took place there on a regular basis—things Pharma would have been aware of, to some degree. However, his presence at the Institute doesn’t automatically mean he agreed with everything happening. Depending on how strongly someone feels about something, some people are content to disagree in silence. Not everyone who seeks employment considers it a priority that the establishment they work for aligns perfectly with their moral values. After all, there are other reasons to take a job: financial benefits, exclusive educational and career opportunities, pure convenience, etc.

I’m not here to say either way whether Pharma’s willingness to turn a blind eye to the events at the New Institute was wrong or right; that’s up to each reader to decide for themselves. However, Pharma’s choice to remain employed at the Institute for some time can say something about him as a character: his priority as a doctor and person is not to take care of everyone he encounters, or to act as some kind of moral or ethical authority.

This isn’t to say Pharma won’t ever stand up for something he regards as right or push back against something he sees as wrong, “off screen.” It’s just that everything in canon points more to a tendency to choose his battles instead of acting immediately on any moral sense the way someone like Optimus or Ratchet might.

This also isn’t to say Pharma doesn’t care about saving lives, but from what little is shown of him before Delphi, it’s hard to say how much he cared. Ratchet confirms later that Pharma was an excellent doctor for most of his life, but all that tells us is he was an excellent doctor; it says nothing about his internal attitude toward his work or patients.

However, inferences can be made based on doctors in our own world:

Being a doctor—especially one in trauma care—is far from easy. It takes a lot out of a person, and there are very few people who last in the profession for a long time. Most medical professionals fall into one of the following categories:

People possessing a strong will that’s coupled with an unwavering passion for taking care of others (the public’s favorite)

People who naturally have, or develop, an ability to switch their empathy off and on at will, or build walls around it��also possessing a strong will (the ideal)

People who naturally have a limited capacity for empathy (the one the public hates to acknowledge)

People with a strong social and professional support system (the necessary, but underutilized and underappreciated factor)

Of course, even if a person has one or more of the above, burnout can and does still happen, but individuals who have at least one have the best chances of surviving and thriving amidst the demands of the majority of medical professions.

As far as is shown in canon, Pharma never had a strong support system—either circumstantially or by choice—so something else was keeping him in medicine.

Pharma shows concern for both Tumbler (Chromedome) and Hubcap:

But even though he obviously cared enough to step in, neither instance makes a strong case for a capacity for empathy beyond the “average” or “norm.” Performing a job well is a lot different from being personally invested in the work.

Based on everything up to this point, and this later comment from Pharma, about Ratchet…

…Pharma has probably never shared the same I-care-about-everything-and-everyone view of the world. Instead, it’s more likely that Pharma holds a more rational view of his work and patients.

One of the first things learned in medicine, especially in trauma medicine, is that you can’t help or save everyone, and to hold yourself to that standard can destroy you quickly if you have a certain temperament or lack healthy boundaries for your empathy.

“There are times when it may seem as though I view sick or injured people not as living, breathing humans with feelings and emotions and people who love them, but simply as cases, as problems to be solved. And that is absolutely true. It's not that I don't have empathy, but the hard fact is that as a doctor, and especially as a trauma surgeon, too much empathy can get in the way of your job and cause you to make decisions based not on sound medical judgment but on your own emotions. Sure, I've seen things that even years later can still make me choke up when I think of them: a little girl shot and killed, a shattered young Marine who shouldn't have died but did. But you can't choke up in the ER or the operating room. To be effective as a trauma surgeon, you have to put a layer of Kevlar around your heart.” —Dr. Peter Rhee, Trauma Red: The Making of a Surgeon in War and in America’s Cities*

Pharma may have learned this difficult truth earlier than Ratchet and developed a practical way of managing his empathy that comes across as “cold.” He may have always had an ability to put up walls around his spark. Or, he may have always had little to no capacity for empathy.

The fact that the morality lock on Tyrest’s portal prevented Pharma from passing through proves he felt guilty for what he’d done, and JRO confirmed this. Therefore, it’s safe to assume Pharma had some level of empathy for his former patients, suffering moral injury when he felt he had no other option but to start killing them.

Still, looking at Pharma’s psychological drives and his behavior throughout canon, it’s clear compassionate care and morality are subordinate to his other values and interests.

*I highly recommend this book, and learning about Dr. Rhee in general. He’s a huge inspiration of mine, and one of my main sources of inspiration when writing Pharma. Level-headed and capable, strong-willed, selectively empathetic, an excellent scientist, etc. He lives for the thrill of practicing medicine both on the floor and as an expert in his field who pushes trauma medicine to new heights through his research. He also takes great pride in his hands. Seriously—the man spent an entire paragraph and a half talking about his “good hands” and how they were one of two reasons he decided to go into trauma surgery. The other reason was that he “liked action and excitement, liked the feeling of being able to walk into a tough situation and take control.” (Sounds familiar…)

Delphi

First thing’s first: we don’t know how much Pharma did or didn’t know about the DJD before agreeing to take the Delphi assignment.

That far into the war, he would have known something about the DJD and their ways of terrorizing traitors and Autobots, but for whatever reason, he took the assignment anyway. Perhaps Prowl assured him the situation on Messatine would be monitored and that the security team would be enough. Perhaps he underestimated the DJD’s capabilities, or scale of territory, and thought he would be able to handle things on his own. Perhaps Prowl gave him no choice. Maybe it was all of these and more.

Whatever the case, according to JRO, Pharma didn’t hate Delphi before the incident with the DJD.

Word of god remains a touchy subject in fandom, but in this case, it’s important because it says two things:

The DJD left the Delphi medical team alone for some time.

Being on the edges of DJD territory didn’t automatically mean isolation and harassment by their hand.

On the second point, First Aid was free to come and go from Messatine as he pleased, seeing as he attended a medical conference at Kimia five years into his assignment at Delphi:

Five years ago [mid-Delphi assignment], the leader of the Wreckers had cornered him at a medical conference at Kimia, the space station that doubled as a weapons research facility. —from Bullets

And five years after that, he was able to not only contact Springer without delay about one of Agent 113’s bullets he’d discovered in an Autobot badge…

He raced upstairs to his computer terminal and typed in a certain frequency code for the second time in his life. A face appeared on the screen and grinned. “It’s me,” said First Aid. “And you're never gonna guess what I’ve got for you..!”

…but he was also able to meet up with Springer to hand off the bullet:

“Your friend has a funny way of making contact,” First Aid had said when he’d got in touch three days earlier, and he was right.

It’s not known if this handoff happened on or off world, but either way, the DJD didn’t interfere.

At some point, Tarn set his sights on Pharma and the Delphi team. Knowing the DJD, one can only imagine what Tarn used to show off his team’s capabilities and convince Pharma the best option was to cooperate.

In striking a deal with Tarn to keep the DJD away from Delphi, Pharma established his territory and ensured his continued security and the safety of his staff. As long as Tarn got his T-cogs, Pharma could continue on in relative peace. He could work his magic on bots that ended up at Delphi, carry out his management duties, and work on whatever projects or research he may have been conducting in his free time.

For whatever reason, after he first came into contact with Tarn, Pharma didn’t call for help. Communications were still operational, as Pharma wouldn’t have suggested contacting High Command about the Duobots if the team was aware of any comm malfunctions:

Also, First Aid later confirms that communications were fine until the Big Bang (soundbomb detonation):

It’s always possible the DJD was monitoring the radio waves, but secure subspace frequencies exist, such as the Datalog Network First Aid used to send the datalog containing the death statistics:

Speaking of which, assuming First Aid sent the datalog with the statistics right when things started to get ‘weird,’ and before the Big Bang shut down comms, it only took—at most—a few days for them to reach Ratchet and Swerve on the Lost Light:

But back to Pharma not calling for help: for all of Prowl’s intel, contingency planning, and fretting over the security of Autobot territories, I find it hard to believe he would have stuck an Autobot medical team on the fringes of DJD territory without giving them some means of securely contacting the outside in case of issues.

But even if Prowl didn’t give Pharma a secure way to contact him or anyone else, and even if Pharma was convinced the DJD was monitoring regular communications, there were other ways he could have reached out for help. After all, the team wasn’t alone on Messatine. Like Pharma said, Prowl continued to send bots to defend the nucleon mines:

The Autobots had been mining nucleon for millions of years at this point, so I doubt the mined nucleon was just sitting in storage on Messatine; shipments of the stuff would have been sent off-world to wherever the Autobots needed it. Why not send a message for Prowl with someone leaving with one of those shipments? A message meant only to be sent over a call when absolutely certain they were out of range of the DJD’s potential monitoring.

Or, why not order in off-world medical supplies and send a message back with the delivery bot(s)?

There are two possible answers to this. One takes into account JRO’s word on the subject; the other is more intricate and speculative on my part, but it leads to the same place. So whatever your stance is on the validity of word of god, there’s an answer for you.

Answer one (word of god)

Simple as that. Pharma was aware of the scope of the DJD’s capabilities and relentlessness, and determined he was trapped prey.

Answer two (no word of god)

There are a few possible reasons Pharma didn’t call for help right away:

He was convinced all his other options would take too long and/or would still lead to him being put under suspicion. After all, being found to have harvested even a single T-cog from an already-dead patient for the DJD could have raised concerns that would lead to Pharma being investigated and/or having a mark put on his record.

He underestimated the severity of Tarn’s addiction, and was certain he could keep up with the T-cog demand without resorting to other means of harvesting, not realizing Tarn’s quota would increase later on.

He was already paranoid as a result of whatever mind games Tarn had set in motion at their first meeting, making Pharma think escape was futile.

Word of god or no word of god, there are clear reasons as to why Pharma ended up trapped. Most likely, it was a mix of all of the above.

Whatever was going on in Pharma’s mind before, he ended up in deeper trouble. Tarn increased his demand for T-cogs, and Pharma couldn’t keep up. By the time this happened, even if he had wanted to call for help, it was too late to do so without implicating himself. He reasoned his only option was to start killing patients to harvest their T-cogs.

Soon, Pharma was so consumed with fretting over whether he’d be able to meet Tarn’s next demand that he didn’t have time or freedom to do anything else except worry and feel guilty. His whole life revolved around Tarn’s addiction; he was no longer in control, and could no longer enjoy whatever it was about Delphi he’d previously enjoyed. Perhaps the facility itself enabled Pharma to research cures and perform scientific miracles of medicine.

Being at the mercy of Tarn—convinced the DJD would find him no matter what—would have been pure psychological torture on its own, but also knowing that any small chance he did have of getting help would end in him losing everything would have added to his suffering. Pharma became desperate to reclaim control over his life and began planning an escape.

Now, JRO has said that Pharma didn’t originally plan to use the rust plague on the DJD…but canon says otherwise:

Of course, Pharma could have been lying to make himself look better in Ratchet’s view, but based on everything he’d been through up to this point with Tarn, it’s more likely he was telling the truth and had tried to eliminate the source of his suffering first. After all, wiping out the DJD would have been the simpler, cleaner option.

When the Duobots refused to detonate the soundbomb near the DJD, Pharma’s objectives shifted. He had to get Delphi shut down in a way that would:

Convince the DJD the shutdown was legitimate.

Pharma knew chances of escaping the DJD at all were slim to none, but he was desperate. Getting Delphi shut down would cut off Tarn’s supply of T-cogs and allow Pharma to escape Tarn’s immediate control, but the shutdown had to be “legitimate” to prevent Tarn from retaliating and hunting him down later. Leaving Tarn even the slightest chance of regaining control was too risky, so Pharma had to make sure his plan was as airtight as possible.

Cover up the patient murders.

If the truth got out about Pharma killing patients, he’d lose his medical license and most likely be put away for life. Being cut off from the practice of medicine and his intellectually stimulating work as a doctor would mean losing more than a job and a reputation. It would mean losing everything in which he’d anchored his sense of identity and life’s meaning. His refusal to consider any other options wasn’t just about ego and preserving his image as an excellent doctor; it was about preserving any kind of meaningful future he saw for himself.

Pharma needed a plan that would fulfill all of the above. Turning the engineered virus on the medical facility was the most effective and efficient solution. Anything else would have made him suspicious in the view of either Autobot High Command or the DJD, and neither of those would have ended well for him.

Because of his goal to preserve his reputation and future in medicine, he couldn’t even risk revealing anything to First Aid or Ambulon, who would have seen to his ruin. They became nothing more than loose ends that had to be tied up, and based on the fact that Pharma only prepared one vial of the vaccine, his original plan involved him being the only survivor:

He probably would have had no problem making more of the vaccine for anyone else who survived, but he wasn’t counting on it. He wanted a totally clean slate; in letting his staff die with most of his patients, he would be getting rid of any and all evidence and reminders of his failures. He may have cared about First Aid and Ambulon before things got bad, but somewhere along the way, he decided either it wasn’t worth it to go through the trouble of finding a way to save them without raising suspicion, or he didn’t want to risk them putting together the pieces later on.

Of course, when Ratchet showed up, plans changed.

Ratchet

Ratchet is not the kind of person who seeks first to understand or be understanding. He’s inclined to trust what’s in front of him over anything abstract, and tends to look at the results of someone’s actions over trying to find any kind of ‘why’ behind them. Also, unlike Pharma, he operates from a strong moral sense, and reacts quickly and strongly when something or someone goes against that internal moral sense.

Ratchet’s reaction to finding out what Pharma did may seem hasty and harsh, but it makes perfect sense on a human level. There is no such thing as unconditional love; everyone has personal and moral lines (boundaries), and they’re different for each individual. When the most rigid of lines is crossed, that’s it; walls go up and the offender is cut off, no matter how strong the relationship may have been.

Ratchet obviously knew Pharma well enough to think he could try talking some sense into him, but then Pharma revealed that he’d crossed one of Ratchet’s lines: murdering patients. Any willingness Ratchet may have had to try to understand vanished. By the time Pharma started trying to provide a ‘why’ for his actions, Ratchet’s moral judgment had already shut down any chance of understanding what could have possibly led Pharma to kill patients. It didn’t help that Pharma seemed totally unapologetic and outright proud of his plan. For Ratchet, the ‘why’ didn’t matter anymore. What he saw was what he trusted, and what he saw was a friend who’d become his idea of a monster.

Now, Ratchet and Pharma’s relationship is one of the most confusing IDW relationships I’ve had the pleasure and pain of dissecting.

It is notoriously difficult to determine the depth and strength of a relationship from the outside. However, I’ve decided to go ahead and address it anyway because it has the potential to provide insight into Pharma as an individual.

If I were to sum up Pharma and Ratchet’s relationship in a single word, I would use “ambivalent.” The first time I read MTMTE, the thing that stood out to me most about their relationship was the drastic differences between how they each perceived the relationship.

In one sense, there’s the idea of Pharma basically being Ratchet’s crazy stalker ex, which is tossed around in fandom a lot. While I personally dislike seeing it regardless of context (yes, even as a joke), I do see how JRO’s writing choices set things up in a way that makes it easy to superimpose that trope.

In another sense, there’s the idea that Pharma and Ratchet were always close friends, and that what happened at the end of the Delphi story was a betrayal of both sides that came out of nowhere and whose consequences were taken too far.

I disagree with both. Personally, what I see at the end of the Delphi story isn’t an obsessed ex gone mad, a sudden betrayal, or a badly executed backstabbing. What I see is a breakdown of an already-complicated and poorly-maintained relationship: true feelings being revealed, long-repressed bitterness being forced to the surface, carefully-hidden cracks being split wide open.

Most people don’t have an accurate understanding of how much or how little they truly know the people in their lives, often overestimating how well they know a person until something surfaces and blindsides them.

According to JRO, Ratchet was oblivious to Pharma’s romantic interest, and throughout canon, it’s easy to see Pharma was more invested in the relationship than Ratchet ever was.

The question is, did Ratchet ever care about Pharma at all? And if so, to what degree?

Yes, Ratchet calls Pharma “buddy” and “friend,” but the former was sarcastic, and the latter means something different to each person. Also, in light of the circumstances, Ratchet could have just been saying “friend” in response to Pharma saying it—an emotional appeal more than anything.

However, Pharma must have been aware of Ratchet’s lack of relational investment because during the confrontation at Delphi, Pharma’s first reaction wasn’t to appeal to their friendship (ex: “But you know me!”). Instead, he appealed to their shared profession:

Then there’s the exchange of insults:

This is what I meant earlier by “true feelings being revealed.” Ratchet may have just been trying to match Pharma’s insult, but it’s unlikely it was merely reciprocal because while Ratchet is snarky at times, he’s sincere in that snark. There’s almost always some truth in his verbal jabs no matter how unserious they seem, and he’s never cruel for cruelty’s sake.

So, if Pharma saw Ratchet as an inferior doctor, and Ratchet saw Pharma as an inferior Autobot…it’s reasonable to assume there was always some deep-rooted competition and conflict preventing them from being super close.

Possible suspicion surrounding Pharma’s conduct as an Autobot paired with a tendency to misjudge the nuances of relationships could explain why Ratchet was so quick to decide Pharma was a lost cause. Maybe Pharma’s actions at Delphi confirmed something from the past that Ratchet had brushed off for whatever reason.

In any case, Ratchet seems to have been largely unaffected by the Pharma he found at Delphi. While leaving Messatine, he emphasizes that he’ll miss Pharma’s talent.

Not “who he used to be.”

Not “what we used to have.”

Just…“his talent.”

Later, on Luna 1, Pharma mentions that he and Ratchet were inseparable, but that could mean a few different things:

Best case scenario: Pharma and Ratchet sought each other out on equal terms.

Worst case scenario: Pharma followed Ratchet around.

Somewhere in the middle: the job forced Pharma and Ratchet to work in close proximity most of the time, and while Pharma intentionally ran into Ratchet more often than necessary, Ratchet also sought out Pharma every now and then.

Whatever the case, working with someone every day doesn’t tell you anything about who they are as a person, and the amount of time spent with someone doesn’t automatically correlate to how deep the relationship is or how well the people know each other. It’s not like either Pharma or Ratchet are shown to be good at expressing their personal feelings outside of extreme circumstances.

Ratchet does bring up late-night conversations of the past:

But while this indicates there was something deeper between him and Pharma, because neither of them were ever shown to be super open with their true feelings, it’s unlikely the conversations were full of touchy-feely talk. In all likelihood, the conversations were mostly medicine and war-related, with the rare spark-to-spark talk sprinkled in. Also, considering everything up to this point, one has to wonder if those talks ever meant anything to Ratchet, or if he was just digging for something that might stall Pharma’s torture.

Maybe those late-night conversations did mean something to Ratchet, but whatever the case, Pharma didn’t take the bait. He knew Ratchet was trying to stall by making an emotional appeal, and perhaps he was convinced the conversations hadn’t meant that much to Ratchet.

Looking at all of this, it’s hard to believe Ratchet ever cared about Pharma as more than an interesting work friend. But even if he had cared more than he let on, it wasn’t enough to overcome the doubts he had about Pharma’s character.

As for whether Pharma truly cared about Ratchet, I’m convinced he did, but in a mostly unhealthy way, and with a strong undercurrent of one-sided rivalry. At some point, Ratchet had been an equal and a source of challenge, and he probably listened to Pharma pretty often. It’s reasonable to assume Ratchet was one of the only people—if not the only person—able to handle Pharma’s intense temperament and challenge him in a meaningful way, providing some semblance of friendship for Pharma.

However, one last thing that stands out is that, when telling Ratchet why he’s torturing him, Pharma didn’t say anything like, “Because you hurt me” or “Because you turned against me—your friend.” Instead, he said it was for “ruining things at Delphi” and because “you declared war on my body.”

Either Pharma wasn’t being entirely honest, or Ratchet’s friendship didn’t mean as much in the first place as he’d previously implied. It’s possible the ‘Because you hurt me’ was implied in “for ruining things back at Delphi,” but why not say it outright? Perhaps it was a fear of vulnerability and admitting there was ever a relational need at all.

At the end of the day, it’s difficult to say for certain how close Pharma and Ratchet were, but it’s clear they were never on the same page and there were always barriers between them.

Luna 1

Revisiting the matter of Pharma’s morality taking a backseat to other priorities, his time on Luna 1 further underscores this. Again, Pharma chooses his battles and is unwilling to put himself at great risk for the sake of others, but a closer look at the situation with Tyrest reveals there wasn’t really anything he could have done for the Cold Construct population even if he had wanted to. It would have been him against Tyrest, an army of Legislators, and a bunch of Decepticons. Pharma knew his limits, and seeing as his goal was self-preservation, it was perfectly rational for him to go along with Tyrest’s grand scheme.

Besides, it doesn’t look like he was given much of a choice:

Although, knowing Pharma, he still would have demanded to know beforehand what he would get in return for the pain, and evidently, Tyrest held up his end of the deal since Pharma had access to the Luna 1 tech collection.

As for Tyrest’s plan to wipe out the Cold Construct population, there’s nothing indicating Pharma’s decision to turn a blind eye to it was rooted in malevolence or bigotry—just rational apathy: ‘I can’t stop Tyrest, so why concern myself with the outcome?’

Again, you can’t save everyone; Pharma had all he could do to save himself.

But it wasn’t all horrible. I would even go so far as to say Pharma found some happiness on Luna 1. Tyrest didn’t care about him, but he didn’t need Tyrest to care. Everyone else there hated him, but he didn’t need to feel like he belonged or was admired. At this point, Pharma’s only interest was Tyrest’s Luna 1 tech collection, and that meant playing nice so he could keep his reward. Back at Delphi, he probably assumed he’d never again practice medicine the way he’d loved; being brought to Luna 1 was an unexpected, yet welcome, second chance.

Even so, Pharma had his moments of cruelty. Back at Delphi, he had easily-identifiable reasons to kill patients—both the ones whose T-cogs he harvested and the 20 more he tried to kill when he shot the life support machine. But on Luna 1, he had no reason to be cruel, yet he chose to be. By this point, he’d mastered the ability to almost completely ignore or subdue his conscience.

In the case of Ratchet’s torment, one could argue Pharma only drew it out for retaliation purposes; it was personal for him.

As for cutting Ambulon in half, it was obviously meant to be as gruesome as possible, yet also quick. But personally, I don’t think it was about Ambulon; it was more about hurting Ratchet. Due to the fact that Ratchet’s identity is wrapped up in his compassion and his ability to be helpful as a doctor, one of the most effective acts of revenge would be to do something that makes him feel utterly helpless.

Also I wonder if, subconsciously or consciously, Pharma was attempting to recreate the sense of helplessness he felt back at Delphi under Tarn’s watch: “Do you see, Ratchet? Do you now understand how it feels to have control ripped out of your hands? To be totally helpless?”

Next, for some reason, Pharma was invested in the promised execution of Getaway and Skids:

He had no personal connection to either of them that would give him a reason to be interested, so maybe Tyrest told him he could perform the execution and/or have the corpses for medical experimentation. Either way, Pharma would have had a chance to use some of the tech in Tyrest’s tech collection, possibly explaining his excitement.

Of course, any chance of an execution disappeared when the final showdown went wrong.

When Pharma tried to escape to Cyberutopia and discovered he couldn’t pass through the spacebridge forcefield, he gave up. He’d been caught; he would no longer have access to Tyrest’s tech collection; Ratchet and every other self-righteous Autobot would never forgive him; and the morality lock prevented him from escaping. By all appearances, he would never again be able to engage in that which gave him a sense of meaning. He had shrunken his world down to his obsessive interest in a specialized field and one significant, yet unrequited relationship. With both of these lost, his world collapsed.

Yes, guilt played a part in Pharma’s despondency, but because he seems to have been in denial of said guilt, it’s more likely his despair was primarily due to the fact that he saw no future for himself. He had nothing left to live for.

In light of this, Pharma’s flippant comments to First Aid make sense. He wasn’t being insensitive as much as he was goading First Aid. Pharma’s not stupid. First Aid had a massive rotary cannon on him, and Pharma knew exactly which emotional buttons to push to get him to pull the trigger.

Pharma wanted to die.

Adaptus

First, let me emphasize that Adaptus did not take possession of Pharma’s body. Instead, Pharma was the unwelcome guest:

How Pharma ended up in Adaptus’ new body is a mystery, but whatever the case, Pharma didn’t pass on to the Allspark. Whether or not he had a choice can only be speculated.

First Aid had blasted Pharma’s head clean off, so whatever happened must have been related to the spark. Perhaps some residual spark energy was trapped in a body part that Adaptus repurposed, leaving Pharma tethered to the new body unwillingly.

Still, Pharma managed to assert his will and override Adaptus for a brief moment. Considering Adaptus was basically a god, this is impressive.

Based on Adaptus’ surprise at being interrupted, it seems he didn’t know Pharma was there. Why Pharma hadn’t tried to assert himself sooner is a mystery. Maybe Adaptus’ scheme was entertaining; maybe Pharma actually liked the company; or maybe he’d been waiting for an opportunity to get revenge on Tyrest for everything done to him back at Luna 1.

Sure enough, just like with Ratchet back on Luna 1, Pharma’s vengeful streak came out as soon as there was an opportunity.

Unfortunately for him, this left him vulnerable, and Tyrest took advantage of the confusion:

Conclusion

When someone reduces their world to narrow personal interests and one or a few very special people, their grip tightens around what little they have. They often become obsessive and possessive of the few things that make them feel alive, and their view of the world becomes increasingly more subjective and detached from the outside world. Pharma seems to have fallen into this trap.

Even so, in the context of the circumstances, several of the decisions he made were rational—even if coldly so. Oftentimes, “extreme” rationality and self-preservation are villainized in fiction, and characters like Pharma who don’t automatically put themselves at great risk for anyone and everyone are villainized, or at least looked down on. Their choices are often regarded as less human, but rationality and self-preservation are just as human as compassion and self-sacrifice.

Ultimately, Pharma was trapped and pushed over the edge into “insanity” by Tarn’s cruelty, but his own choices made from a place of pride determined how he fell, and how far he fell. It was a perfect storm of Tarn’s mind games and Pharma’s intellectual arrogance, excessive self-confidence, obsessive nature, and stubborn grip on the kind of future he wanted for himself.

Pharma is yet another Icarus who flew too close to the sun and paid dearly for it, and while JRO/the narrative could have given this Icarus better wings, that doesn’t change the fact that he chose to fly so high.

***

Many thanks to anyone who made it to the end of this monster of a post.

-tosses a Rodimus Star at you-

#look who finally finished this thing #idw transformers #idw1 #maccadam #MTMTE #lost light #idw pharma #pharma #tf idw character analysis #tf idw meta #dr. fancy hands #nova’s nerding out again

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shadowvalkyrie · 3 months ago

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There are a lot of things about Taskmaster that feel very... culturally British. That mixture of extreme silliness with occasionally very dark humour for example.

Or the particular tone of affectionate bullying and the way it's (mostly) taken in good humour. (And expected to be taken in good humour, even when it hits a nerve. Something that caused quite a bit of bad blood between the Brits and the Germans in my former workplace, because we generally don't shrug off insults that easily.)

But I think one difference is sort of... simmering under the surface in ways that aren't immediately obvious to international audiences (and makes me wish I was still writing uni papers, because it would be a GOLDMINE), is how much of the humour is based on the British class system.

I mean, the basic premise of "tyrannical taskmaster makes people jump through arbitrary hoops for his favour and then belittles them for doing so" is already something only an audience with a slightly monarchical bend would accept unquestioningly. Add to that the way the Taskmaster/Assistant relationship is set up... Let's just say it fetishises a social dynamic that doesn't exist in quite the same way elsewhere.

Which I think may partially explain why so many people seem to be oblivious to the D/s undertones. -- Of course it's often kink-blindness on the part of non-kinky people, but I strongly suspect it's helped along by the cultural perception of what constitutes an acceptable power differential acting as a buffer to seeing anything off about it. The threshold for when it becomes weird is different.

Now, I think (and since I'm not British, do correct me if I have it wrong!) a key part of what makes the basic premise funny to British audiences (and differently from how it's funny to international ones) is the way cultural expectations of power vs submission are subverted.

Purely based on accent? Alex is the posh one. By miles. And Greg -- very pointedly! -- doesn't do the matching Fauxbridge that most viewers would probably expect from someone presented in a position of authority (or even just a "neutral" BBC accent). It seems bizarre from a foreign point of view, but I've found that this kind of discrepancy immediately and viscerally registers with Brits. (It's uncanny how little it takes, too -- ask your favourite non-TM-aware English person to just listen to the different ways they say "taskmaster" and they will extrapolate things you cannot even imagine.) Instead of just the regional connotation, there are always implications of class and social status to an accent that are absolutely baffling to the unaware.

Add the fact that Greg Davies is from Wales, and a lot of English people have a weird colonial superiority complex towards Welsh people to this day... It's enough to make all these obvious gestures of devoted subservience from Alex very unexpected and therefore funny.

(Also notice how it adds interesting layers to Katherine Ryan buying Greg a fake lordship title? And makes it funnier in a way she may not even have fully been aware of herself, being Canadian? It's delightfully irreverent and pokes fun at the whole system.)

My guess is that this is also why the studio audience's reaction to linguistics-based jokes is always so strong. Lets take the recurring bit about Alex correcting Greg's grammar. To an international audience, the main joke is that Alex is a nerd and cares too much about grammar, with maybe a side of him being a smartarse towards his boss in a potentially ill-advised way. But to a British audience, the level of audacious insubordination implied there? Much stronger. Wildly offensive thing to do. (And a level of arrogance that is extra hilarious coming from someone shown to be sleeping in a dog bed.)

The same mechanism also puts Alex's snide little asides towards contestants with regional or "urban" accents into perspective. Offensive dick move on his part? Oh yes, extremely. But the audience is very much not supposed to be on his side in this. He's being a bigoted little bully, and either the contestants get to humiliate him in retaliation (it's certainly not a coincidence that the Welsh and Irish contestants are generally the ones having the most fun putting him in his place) or Greg calls him out on it in the studio. In a society in which Alex's brand of micro-aggression is still incredibly commonplace and accent discrimination a widely accepted default, it's actually very cathartic to see it openly acknowledged and condemned.

I mean Tumblr obviously loves Alex, because he's cute and funny and we love the Greg/Alex D/s thing (I'm definitely guilty of this as well), but we have to remember that -- in the context of the show's premise -- his character is supposed to be pathetic and ridiculous, so when Greg does the "next to me a man who once told me while drunk that he thinks regional accents are inversely correlated to intelligence" intro thing, we're meant to see it as an asshole opinion that is actually unacceptable to hold and no one in their right mind would openly admit to. So Greg is humiliating Alex by (supposedly) exposing him as someone who would spout that kind of opinion. (Same as the jokes about Alex's misogyny. I see people criticise these jokes all the time, but I think that's because they refuse to understand how the underlying mechanism actually works and take them at face value as the real Alex's actual opinion, rather than something deliberately assigned to his in-show character to make a point about them being terrible.)

#taskmaster #meta #language geekery #take it with a grain of salt #I'm looking at this from a foreign point of view here

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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago

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For Science

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+. Fangs. Biting. Venom!play (is that a thing?).

You eyed Jessica Drew with utmost interest as she worked her way around Miguel’s surveillance station, easily dragging files in and out of the multiple screens.

“Why do you get access to his stuff and I don’t?” you asked as sudden jealousy crept in.

“We go way back,” she started, pulling some information to her watch. “You’ll get there in time…”

Your ego soared.

“… if you don’t keep annoying him.”

It immediately plummeted.

“He’s easy to piss off,” you beamed. “And I’m easily entertained. What can I say? Match made in heaven.”

She chuckled at your antics. “Just don’t get yourself expelled.”

You nodded and waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So have you heard that rumour about him?”

Jessica finished setting up her watch and mission logs and threw you a suspicious look.

“Well… the one that says his venom does more than causing paralysis,” you wiggled your eyebrows, letting the not so subtle implication dangle.

“You know what? One day Miguel is going to kick you out and I won’t do anything about it.”

“What? I didn’t come up with this!”

It was absolutely true. You hard heard it from some spiders one night while strolling throught the lobby. Rumours came and went. No one thought much of them and these were just harmless fun.

“Well, I’m not commenting on this.”

“Fine! But it’s fascinating.”

Jessica sighed, rotated on her feet and went down the stairs. “You can go ask Miguel, then.”

“Ask Miguel what?”

You froze in place as spider-man 2099 entered the dark room, eying both of you.

“Oh, I’m out,” Jessica snorted, heading towards the exit. “You two have fun.”

Miguel kept his gaze on your and you waved a hand at him.

He frowned.

“Lyla, reroute all the main sectors to earth-1610,” he said, pressing on his dimensional travel watch. “Any possibility of a canon event being disrupted must be reported to Jessica.”

The AI appeared next to him and adjusted her heart-shaped glassed up the bridge of her nose. “Is she tagging along, too?” she pointed at you.

He shook his head. “Not a chance. She’s more useful here.”

“Hey!” you were about to protest, but decided against it.

You knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. Your past missions had not gone without some minor bumps, which was why it had been decided the previous day that you’d tag along Miguel for a couple of weeks to hone your off-field abilities.

“Anything major must be reported to me.”

Jessica nodded but Lyla was not so easily dismissed. “I didn’t hear you say iiit.”

Miguel rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your services as always, Lyla.”

She took a dramatic bow and vanished.

He took large steps towards the platform, greeting you with a curt nod.

How would you describe your relationship with Miguel O’Hara? Tense? On the verse of collapse each time you teased him? Friendly? But only when you didn’t have to spend more than one hour together.

“Morning to you, too, boss,” you saluted.

He let out an exasperated sigh as he checked the screens in front of him.

Maybe you should go easy on him. You were already on thin ice, but just adored pushing him. There was something about teasing him that just did wonders to you.

“Did you sleep well? Did you get some food?”

“Don’t start getting on my nerves.”

You raised both hands, feigning a look of innocence. “I did nothing. You’re paranoid.”

His head turned to you.

“You do have an issue obeying the chain of command. Your last mission was a disaster, because you got into an argument with Peter instead of focusing on the anomaly — don’t interrupt me!” he said pinching the bridge of his nose as you were about to defend yourself. “You have much to offer, but you’re also all over the place and lack discipline. I don’t think you—”

You gave him a jaw-popping yawn which effectively cut him off.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You do know that I was pressured by others to let go of you.”

A long pause stretched out.

“Then why didn’t you?”

In your mind, you had hoped your growing friendship with him had played a part, but…

“You have potential,” he said with a sigh. “One day you might even be better than me.”

Well, that was a high praise and your spine snapped straight instantly. “Really?”

“Maybe… probably not,” he concluded. “But if you keep your focus and work hard, you will be a very skilled spider.”

You rolled your eyes. “Woah, thanks a bunch!”

In truth, you knew Miguel was trying his best to smooth over your bruised ego, but your pride got the best of you.

“Any questions you have, just let me know,” he said reassuringly while glancing at the screens in front of him.

“I can ask anything?”

“Yes.”

“Sooo… have you heard that rumour about your venom?”

It was too early in the day to be so serious, so you genuinely saw no harm in lightening the mood.

He threw you a side glance. “Be specific.”

“Well… that it can cause extreme pleasure,” you blurted out. “Oh, besides the paralysis thingy,” you quickly added.

Miguel turned to fully face you. “I don’t even want to know where that came from.”

Deep down, you felt a pang of disappointment. It would be such an interesting finding.

“Ah, so it’s not true.”

“Probably not.”

That piqued your interest. “Probably? So there’s a chance? It’s just so fascinating, because you’re already so different from the rest of us,” you started rambling not able to hold back your enthusiasm. “Now this is just an added layer!”

You were a scientist at heart and Miguel was pretty much an outlier when it came to being a spider-man. For months you had been trying to let him agree to you running some tests, but to no avail.

In all honesty, Miguel knew his way around science and the inner workings of biology better than you could ever, so he had no reason to indulge your curiosity.

“How do you do it? Is it the same venom or a different one?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Science, remember?”

It was a half truth, though. Yes, this would be mind-blowing science-wise, but this was also about Miguel O’Hara. The very man who had been guiding you through spider society for months. The same men who whose genius and dedication had built the foundations of the spider society.

He now had both hands on his hips and you figured you were already pushing it too far, but enjoyed doing it too much to stop now.

“Can you just tell me how it works? Please?” You clasped your hands together into a beg, hoping it would be enough to bait him for information.

But Miguel remained unfazed.

“No.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” you offered expectantly.

He didn’t budge.

“Please, pretty please?” you tried once again.

Nothing.

“I’ll bring you empanadas every single day from now on,” you enthused. “On demand! Whenever you have those cravings. Two in the morning? Check! Canon event disrupted and universes imploding? Check!”

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Is that a yes?”

“No.”

“Just show me how it works,” you sounded desperate by now. Arguing with Miguel ranked high up with the likes of trying to move a boulder with a wooden fork. “How did you get it to work?”

His eyes to widened slightly. “Show you?” he started out. “Are you asking me to pleasure you?”

Now that was probably on your top three of ‘Things you never expect Miguel O’Hara to say’.

“Oh — I mean… well… what?” you stammered, caught by surprise. “I didn’t — you know… huh…”

He only glared at your babbling self.

“Are you… offering?”

Miguel extended his arm to you. “Give me your hand.”

You panicked. “What? Now?”

“For science, right?”

Point taken.

You hesitated momentarily. “You’re not going to paralyse me, right?”

“Do you want me to?”

You offered your hand for him to grip, flipping it palm up. “No.”

“Then I won’t.”

Miguel’s voice was so flat he could just be reading items off a grocery list.

His gloved fingers traced the heel of your palm and his eyes darted down. You held your breath at the sight of him lowering his head. “This might sting.”

And just like that, you watched in complete awe as Miguel O’hara bared his fangs, slowly raking them across your skin before digging into the flesh.

“Ouch!”

Your stomach turned and your heart fluttered as his warm lips grazed the spot he had just bitten. Two circular and symmetrical openings pooled with a tiny amount if blood.

“So? Do you feel a wave of intense carnal bliss?” Miguel asked, straightening up and brushing the droplets away with his thumb.

You merely stood there, waiting for something — anything — to kick in. But as tense seconds ticked by, it was evident nothing was happening.

“No…”

He shrugged, letting go of your hand to tap his watch. “Ah, well. My pleasuring abilities must be below par this morning.”

You scowled at him and considered smashing his arm with a fist. “You could have just said it was all a lie!” you grunted in sheer annoyance, feeling like an idiot. “Now I’m bleeding to death.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“You’re annoying,” you huffed as you checked the bite marks.

“It’s not a lie. I can indeed inject an innocuous version of my venom that can be quite pleasurable,” he said.

“Then do it!” you said, your temper flaring.

Miguel wasn’t one to take orders. He was much more into being the one to call the shots, but your curiosity was eating you alive now that he had revealed that this rumour had some truth to it.

He was now looming over you, his impressive height adding to the tension. “It depends on where I inject the venom. Certain places are more effective,” his voice was uncharacteristicly low as his eyes landed on your neck. “This is just scientific curiosity, right?”

Your mouth had gone too dry to reply, so you just shrugged. Miguel had you taking a few steps back until your lower back hit the railing that lined the platform, causing your hands to clasp around it reflexively.

“Tilt your head.”

You did as you were told and felt his fingers tracing along your jaw, angling you just the way he wanted.

“Hold on tight,” he said, breath now fanning the prickling skin of your neck. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

Feeling your face heat up from the sudden close proximity, you closed your eyes as if embracing for impact. He pressed his lips to your pulse point before digging his fangs slowly into you.

Your mouth dropped open, aghast, and you finally felt it. His venom poured from the fangs and into your bloodstream, spreading through your veins like wildfire. At first, it was just merely a pleasant sensation, like the one you’d get as you finally drank water after a hot day in the sun.

But it soon turned into something else, and unlike water, the new overwhelming feeling was leaving you thirstier with each thump of your racing heart.

Miguel had his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He moaned first — no, he grunted —, and you felt a jolt of almost painful pleasure shot down your spine and spread between your thighs.

Your grip on the metal surface wavered momentarily and you feared you might fall, but were firmly grounded by his other hand on your waist. It didn’t take long until your clit started throbbing in unison with your heartbeat.

“Miguel… this… this…”

Suddenly, your suit felt too tight and in the way, especially once he pressed lightly into you.

The venom was no longer being injected, but the remnants of it were enough to wreak havoc throughout your body.

“It’s just for science…” he growled, pulling his fangs away from you. “Does it feel good?”

You didn’t dare open your eyes and could only gasp when you felt him push his erection into you.

“Yeah… science… or whatever…” you gasped, feeling yourself being pushed over the edge with each second that passed.

Just when you thought your orgasm would hit you slowly, Miguel tilted your head to the side, exposing the intact skin.

You gripped his wrist as if holding on for dear life, fearing you’d explode. “Again?”

“Your body is neutralising my venom too fast,” he rumbled, lips hovering a sensitive spot. “I need to inject more.”

“Miguel…” you nearly cried out at the thought of your heart no being able to handle the intense pleasure.

“Look at me.”

Your breathing evened briefly as you did as commanded, his red eyes fixed on yours, pupils fully blown.

“Think you can do this?”

You blinked.

“I know you can take more.”

Your clit was now throbbing at an alarming rate at the promise of more of him.

Miguel flashed you his blood-tipped fangs before sinking them into you once again.

The liquid traveled through your body so fast, you felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs. You vaguely wondered if you would die from this, and concluded that there were worse ways to go.

Being on the receiving end of Miguel’ dry humps would be enough to make anyone tip over the edge, let alone with the added layer of venom engulfing you into an explosive orgasm.

Your vision blurred in an instant as spams and contractions swept through your body. The friction of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit had you arch your back into him, feeling the bittersweet realisation that you were clamping around nothing. You weren’t sure if this was his venom’s doing, but you felt an overwhelming part of you wishing he had been inside you.

It hurt.

It hurt so good and lasted for so long, you like crying from the overwhelming tide of pleasure.

Miguel gave you time to ride out your orgasm, pressing a bloodied kiss to your lips, swallowing your cries.

Metallic taste filled your mouth and you broke away from him, gasping for air.

Your eyes landed on his crotch.

He was hard. Painfully hard. A faint stain of precum seeping through the material of his suit.

“You okay?”

You bent over, hands on your knees and laboured breaths.

“Are you?” you managed in between gasps.

Miguel crouched to eye-level with you. “I think you owe me one.”

“Yeah…” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks for the… scientific… huh… demonstration.”

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara oneshot #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o’hara drabble

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maximumzombiecreator · 3 months ago

Note

I would actually like to know what you consider the basics of improv to be! If nothing else, you phrase these things really well and in ways I haven't heard before, and I'm also aware there's a lot of things I don't know (I'm in a student run college improv group, our theory might be a bit lacking)

Be glad to. A lot of improv stuff is just oral tradition at this point, passed down in musty school drama rooms and community centers, so everyone has to pick it up somewhere. When I've taught people before, beyond the basic definition of what an improv scene looks like, I usually focus on a set of do's and don'ts.

Do's:

Make offers, and make them good offers. A good offer should be strong and elegant, like a power lifter in a ball gown.

Broadly speaking, I'd say the strength of an offer refers to how much it establishes about the scene, and how much what it establishes is different from a theoretical "default" scene. Typically, you think about how much an offer is establishing in terms of the questions words: who are the characters, what are they doing, where are they, etc. An offer that establishes "two characters who are old friends since high school meeting up at a coffee shop to catch up" is establishing a lot, but it's still a weak offer because it's such a typical scene. You're not adding much that can't just be taken for granted.

When I say a good offer should be elegant, I mean that it should be as compact as possible while still doing a lot. The typical inelegant offer is verbose and unnatural. A character walks into a scene and says, "Hey, big brother Billy, I hope you're recovering from the illness you've had for the last six months, ever since our father died," or some other expository nightmare.

So, the best offers are both. They create a lot of unique, interesting details about the scene, and they do it quickly. Let's say you stagger into the scene, miming carrying something under your arm, and say, "Doctor! I've been decapitated again!" In five words, you've established who you and another character are, where you are, and why, and you've implied a lot of very unusual details about the scene, world, and your character's history.

When thinking about elegant offers, it's also worth noting that a lot of offers that you should be making are physical. Depending on the type of improv you're doing, you might be physically embodying objects and the environment, and if you're doing background like that you can add a ton of detail that the audience can pick up without friction. But even if you're not, you can establish location through miming actions, you can create details about your character through how you walk and hold your body, you can endow others with traits through how you physically react to them.

That brings us to the next do: make strong character choices and enhance other actors' characters. People have written whole books on what comprises a "strong character" but for improv purposes I'd focus on three details: quirks, status, and connections.

Quirks are fairly straightforward: what makes this character unusual? Establishing character quirks is the focus of a lot of improv games and exercises, and the best quirks are quick to establish, significantly inform the character, and are handled with enough sincerity to make the character compelling rather than only funny.

Status refers to how powerful and important a character is. High status characters will command the room, low status characters will be ignored or mistreated. Status might shift over the course of a scene. The sheriff is a high status character until the king shows up, for example. Status might seem like an obvious thing to figure out from a character's role, but it's useful to play with it. What does a low status king look like? What does an employee-boss scene look like if you decide your employee is higher status than the boss?

Connections refer to the relationships between characters. This is going to drive scenes more than most other character details, and you almost always want to avoid unconnected characters. Choosing a connection to an existing character is a very good first choice when entering a scene, as it should immediately suggest a direction for the scene to take. This is also a reason to favour unusual connections. If two actors are in a scene where they're arguing about a fender bender they've been in, you could choose to enter as one of their friends, but it'll be far more dynamic if you choose a more unusual connection. What if you're one of their anger management therapists? Their boss? Their dominatrix?

In addition to creating your own character, you should add to other actors' characters. The main way you do this is endowment, giving the character traits through your offers. Direct endowment is when you simply ascribe them a trait. If you say, "Bill, you've been mayor for the last ten years," then you're obviously giving them the trait of "mayor." But there's also indirect endowment, where you add something to a character through part of how you react to them. If you flinch when another character moves suddenly, you're endowing them with the traits of being dangerous and erratic. If you speak to them very slowly and simply, you're implying something about how intelligent your character perceives them to be.

Putting it all together, the last big thing to do is build up. There can be a temptation in improv to build out, to add new details to scenes that sort of sprawl outward from the original premise. Try to avoid that. When you add new details, make them ones that build on the existing details. Instead of adding new tensions or conflicts, raise the stakes of existing ones. Reincorporate and re-contextualize things that have already been established. Incorporate audience suggestions repeatedly, using them to colour other offers.

Don'ts:

No blocking. This is the one even people who don't know improv know. If someone adds something to the scene, go with it. Don't reject or ignore offers, incorporate and build on them.

No wimping. Whatever the scene is, whatever your character is, whatever offers are made, fully commit. Bring all your energy to it. If someone says your character is on fire, don't just stop, drop, and roll and then go back to whatever else was going on. That's wimping. Be the most on fire that you can be.

No dithering. When you're in a scene, always be adding to it or moving it forward. Saying something that just fills space, at best makes a joke, and doesn't add to the scene is bad form, it doesn't give other actors anything new to work with. If you're dithering, you're forcing other actors to pick up the slack. This is called "gagging" if you're being funny by not adding to the scene, and is a great way to be popular with the audience and have everyone else hate you, don't be that person.

Don't make yourself look good at the expense of your scene partners. It's okay to get laughs at the expense of other characters, but not at the expense of other actors. Help others get into the scene, develop their characters, and give them things to respond to, add onto their offers.

Related to the above, don't steal the spotlight. If there's a scene going on that you're not the focus of, you should be trying to figure out how to enhance what's going on. Everyone can tell when an actor can't bear to be in a supporting role, and it's not a cute look.

More than anything, don't betray the trust of other performers. All theatre requires trust, but improv requires so much trust. If you lose that trust, you're done, you've got nothing.

#ask #improv

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4-the-l0ve-0f-art · 23 days ago

Text

I might or might not be thinking about the LADS love interests 24/7 so here are some of my random thoughts/notes on their personalities and relationship with the MC (not spoiler free):

I've seen a lot of people across platforms comparing zayne and sylus and stating they seem very similar even though that's not true at all.

On the surface, both of them do seem reserved and cold, but when you really analyze their characters and play through various stories it's evident that they're quite different. Even on the surface, Zayne, whether considered cold by his colleagues and interns or not, is popular and respected for both his research work and extra care towards his patients. Sylus, on the other hand, is feared and envied due to his power and control over the N-109 zone. He's known to be merciless and difficult to work with.

In terms of how they are with MC, both of them joke around with her and show their love in their own ways, just like the rest of the LIs. Zayne tries to make her laugh with his dry humor and shows his affection for her by being extra careful about her health and daily schedule outside of their doctor-patient relationship, but in a more "boyfriend" way like reminding her to sleep and eat on time (which MC does for him too) and offering to cook delicious yet nutritional meals to eat together. He also tells her he loves her through his words but in a more subtle/indirect way rather than outright stating it; saying "The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" on multiple occasions like the Abyssal Chaos special ending for him and some chats and event dialogues. He also likes to make time for her whenever he can, especially on the weekends, like the implied pottery workshop date from his affinity card. They're also physically intimate with each other like MC casually sitting on his lap in the heartbreaker rythm event, or Zayne patting her head on multiple occasions. In short, his preferred love language most of the time is acts of service, quality time, and physical touch.

Meanwhile, Sylus is playful and challenging towards the MC. He's bold and straightforward with his words; "I adore you." from an audio story or "I'm never annoyed when we do things together." from a claw machine voiceline. He also likes to buy things for her, like the gun he gifted her, custom clothes like a dress he mentions on his homepage voiceline at night (and the outfit you see MC wearing in his main storyline auction), a limited time plushie from a voicecall that the MC really wanted but couldn't get. He also gives MC access to the resources he accumulated over the years as the boss of Onychinus. His safe houses, armouries, and the base itself in the N-109 zone. Grand gestures like setting up fireworks outside her workplace as she clocks out and dinner date somewhere private for their anniversary is also something he does.We also know from his midnight secrets that they like to cuddle while sleeping or he likes to hold her hand or have a hand around her waist (from the main storyline chapters). In short, his preferred love language is words of affirmation, buying gifts, and physical touch most of the time.

Something random about Zayne and Sylus:

Zayne and MC like to write love letters and notes to each other (from the heartbreaker text you get after 3 starring the final bounty, I'm pretty sure.) Zayne also leaves some of his clothes at MC's place at times (a tie from an audio story). He also keeps mementos or items that remind him of MC in his hospital office (like a cup they made together in pottery class or the notes/letters MC writes for him.)

Sylus likes to show off when MC wins something at the claw machine (we know this from his voiceline about announcing it to the N-109 zone but we don't know if he actually does it) or gets a rare meow badge (from a moment post). He also has set of clothes ready for MC at his base and mansion (from an audio story). Sylus also likes to take MC on rides on his bike (I can't recall the source for this :sadface:). They also exchange music recommendations with each other.

Some of my notes on Xavier's personality and relationship with the MC:

Xavier and MC go on spontaneous food dates whenever both of them are free and hungry. They also read books together on a routinely basis (we know this from his birthday event) and also go on study dates sometimes to the library (this is from an audio story where MC was studying for her Hunter's exam in the library and Xavier was doing his own thing beside her)

Aside from how Xavier is with the MC, he doesn't seem to interact with people much and only keeps in touch with Jeremiah and some bookstore owner who he's friends with and spends most of his time either sleeping, fighting wanderers, or with MC. This is probably because he has had to change his identity alot while staying on Earth since he doesn't age.

Xavier isn't necessarily interested in botany but has a lot of plants in his apartment which also attracts birds of all kinds. The plants also seem to be thriving even though he doesn't go above and beyond to take care of them (I don't remember where this is from.) The reason he has alot of plants in his apartment though is because it was originally Jeremiah's apartment (from one of his anecdotes).

Xavier and MC like to people-watch together from their balconies. Xavier likes to text her when he sees something interesting (like the text about a cat outside their apartment or him spotting MC doing something). They also have a specific chat where they decide to people-watch together from their balconies though I can't remember the rest.

Xavier is an avid reader and has been following certain book series since their release (from an audio story where MC runs into him at a bookstore). He also lets MC borrow books from him (from a claw machine voiceline).

Some of my notes on Rafayel's personality and relationship with the MC:

Rafayel likes to spend time with MC and keep her around under the excuse of her being his bodyguard. Sending her on errands like buying art supplies for him and attending exhibitions and PR events with her (mentioned in multiple chats and moments). Thomas also likes to make use of this by having MC check on his painting progress occasionally and keep an eye/spy on him when he looks like he's going to do something suspicious (from an audio story where MC tails Rafayel on Thomas's request).

Rafeyel and MC go on beach dates and walks together often (This is from multiple texts, moments and stories). They also collect seashells for each other. I personally really love the whole ocean theme/symbolism Rafayel's character revolves around due to his Lemurian origin and connection with the sea. His love for his culture and his connection with anything sea related comes out in so many things related to him, from the location of his studio at Whitesand Bay to all the fish related jokes and comparisons he makes. His artwork from what we have seen in the chapter 1 end and the memory where he teaches MC how to paint also uses shades of blue commonly. (I think I like him so much because I love art myself LMAO)

Rafayel can cook seafood really well. Him and MC cook together sometimes and go on seafood dates (we know this from some of his audio stories and midnight secrets).

Rafayel and MC go diving into the deep sea together. Rafayel even showed her a whale whistle from his childhood that he kept in a Lemurian ruin (from an audio story where MC wanted to find a whale).

Rafayel does makeup really well and also has a certain knack for perfumes. He was invited to a perfume exhibition with MC in an audio story and did her makeup for her in another.

Aside from visual arts, Rafayel is a man of many talents. He can sculpt (from an audio story where he restored old sculptures), can sing and play many instruments, speaks multiple languages, has performed in Operas before, has good photography skills, and is well-versed in history and tradtions of many different cultures.

Rafayel and MC go to concerts and other performance dates together. He even keeps himself updated on MC's interests like live events of an artist she likes or following game updates of a game she plays (this is from their chats about concerts and game updates).

From what we have seen in world underneath stories or his anecdotes, Rafayel is cold towards people aside from MC and keeps everyone at a distance. His personality with MC is very open and carefree compared to people who approach him on their own like reporters or other lore related characters like bounty hunters from Ever group. He also seemed to be travelling to many places alone before he met MC in the main storyline and had Opera or other performances under a hidden identity.

All the LIs have killed someone for some reason or the other according to their lore.

Sylus' kills are the most obvious due to the nature of his work and him quite literally being a wanted criminal. From his first interaction with the MC in the main storyline to his anecdotes about raiding planets, we don't even have to expand on this.

Xavier and Rafayel have both killed people in their anecdotes right before the main storyline takes place, either to protect themselves or MC. Xavier was killing people from his home planet who were after him and Rafayel killed a bounty hunter. Interestingly so, both of them have huge bounties on their heads (Xavier's Lumiere identity has a bounty on it that we see put up in The Nest in one of the chapters). Rafayel, on the other hand, had an anecdote where he kills a bounty hunter from Ever who was after him. Another interesting thing is that Rafayel, Xavier, and Sylus all three seem to be connected to The Nest in some way or the other. Rafayel was at the Nest with MC in the main storyline, Xavier went there to gather information, and I'm not sure how Sylus might be related but I have a suspicion that he is LOL

Zayne's kills are the least obvious. Zayne, from what we know, hasn't killed anyone on purpose in the main timeline so far aside from his colleague William who turned into a wanderer at Mount Eternal. All of his kills have been in a different timeline even in his Anecdotes. Dawnbreaker does mercy killings in his world and the Foreseer has been implied to have killed the people who entered his tower.

This got surprisingly long LMAO

I might make a myth version on a seperate post for their individual myths once I play through them. And I'll probably be adding more onto this post if I have any other things I want to note down

Aside from that this is all basically just word vomit about the shit I think about related to them 😔

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twice-inamillion · 11 months ago

Text

The Company

Taeyeon and IU’s Plan

Smut and Story Building (Sex, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Fingering, Blowjob)

Chapter 3

4,315 Words

(IU finds out that Taeyeon has been looking through her phone that filled with her sexual experiences with her boss. Taeyeon is convinced by IU to get a taste and comes up with a plan. Taeyeon gets more than what she can handle. OC gets a little surprised but is more than happy to accept it.)

A few weeks pass, and every time Taeyeon stays at IU’s apartment, she notices hints of your sexual relationship with IU. Anything like cum covered panties, cummed covered skirts and marks on IU’s thighs and chest.

She can’t hold on any longer; she needs to confront her friend about the type of relationship the two of you have. Taeyeon tries to find the looks for the best moment to talk to her about this.

“I’m going to ask her today; I can’t wait anymore. It’s awkward every time I see the two of them together.”

Taeyeon arrives earlier than usual and prepares dinner for the both of them, “Some pasta would be nice and easy to do. She changes into some comfortable clothes and gathers all the necessary items to make the meal.

“Taeyeon, I’m home.”

“Welcome back. I made dinner for us.”

“Aww, that’s nice of you. Let me change.”

“Okay, I’ll set the dinner table.”

Taeyeon sets the dinner table and waits for IU to take a seat before serving her. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing much. I just got tired of ordering takeout and wanted to make something homemade.”

“Haha, you should do this more often.”

“I’ll try, only when I’m done early. Anyways, how was your day? Don’t think we have talked comfortably in the past few days.”

“Hmm… nothing much. Just the same old thing. You know, helping with ranking the trainees, setting up meetings, and doing my duties as the CEO’s assistant.”

“What kind of duties do you have?”

“Just busy stuff like going over his daily and weekly schedule, setting up his meetings, sometimes bringing him his meals or some do simple tasks.”

“Seems like he has you overworking yourself.”

“Ah, no, that’s not true. He also has Irene as the secondary assistant. We share the tasks here and there. It's not that bad, actually, once you get used to it. But there are times when it does get busy, and I come home tired.”

“Is he nice to you?”

“He can be a bit tough, but he treats me nice. He asks how I’m doing, buys me nice things like jewelry, and gives me spending money.”

“Seems like the two of you have more than a boss-and-employee relationship.”

IU smiles and tries to play it off, but Taeyeon teases her, “Omg, are you and your boss something?” IU can’t help but grin, causing Taeyeon to push deeper, “I kind of figured the two of you were a thing. Is it actually a thing or work sex?”

“Haha, why do you want to know? Are you perhaps interested?”

“No! I just wanted to ask since you have been acting a bit differently.”

“Hmm.. okay. I’ll tell you, but don’t tell anyone else, okay?”

Taeyon is now completely invested in finding out their relationship and eagerly nods, “Yeah, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Okay, remember how I told you that my family has financial issues?”

“Yeah, of course. You said that your family was struggling really back, especially your mom.”

“I wanted to help her somehow, so I contacted some people and became his personal assistant. This meant I had to service him at the workplace and him “personally.” I knew it was bound to happen and did it for my mother’s sake. So I had my first time with him. I thought I would hate him, but he’s really caring. He and I aren’t dating; it’s just a work relationship. I’ve been with him for a bit over a year and learned that it’s better to take the initiative and serve him than for him to act on it. If he has to ask for it when he might fuck you based on his mood, and trust me, that might be a bit dangerous. So I learned to read his mood and service him.”

“Oh wow. I didn’t know it was that serious.”

“The pay is really good, and the benefits are much better. This is one of the reasons why I have this apartment, and my mom is living in a nice house.”

Taeyeon hesitants but asks, “By the way, how far have you gone? Like, what do you do?”

“Well… the first few times, it was just regular sex, then it was a handjob and blow job. As time kept going, we would do more stuff, like me giving him head in his office or having sex in there too.”

“Have you two done anal?”

“Ahh, I haven’t, but he’s done it with someone else.”

“Who?”

“Irene, his other assistant.”

“He fucks her too?”

“Yeah, and let me tell you this. Their relationship is much different than mine. She didn’t want to service him and learned the hard way. Anyways, are you interested?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to hide it, Taeyeon. I know you looked through my panties in my hamper and went through my phone.”

Taeyeon panics and lies, “No, I didn’t do that.”

“Don’t lie, that phone is something that he gave me. It screen records every time someone tries to log in. So I know that you’ve been looking at my videos of him fucking me.”

Taeyeon panics, and it shows. IU reads Taeyeon like a book and teases her by asking, “Are you interested in him?”

“Ahh, no! I’m just interested.”

“Lies, I’ve heard your moaning during the night. I know that you’re sexually interested and frustrated.”

“No, you’re wrong.”

“I mean, if you are, and I know you are. It will make my job easier. There are so many things I have to do, and if he’s busy with you, then that means I have to spend less time servicing him. What do you think?”

“Umm… I don’t know.”

“I’ll even help you. I’ll tell you the best time and even get him a bit tipsy for you, haha.”

“You’ll help me?”

“Yeah, you’re my friend. It’s not like I have anything to lose. Look, I’ll even show you some pictures from today,” as IU pulls out her phone and shows Taeyeon a video of you getting your cock sucked and you cumming in her mouth and face. IU notices Taeyeon slide her hand between her legs and rubs herself under the table, “Don’t tell me you don’t see yourself being in my place. Just imagine his hot cum on your face and going down your throat.”

“Hmm… you said you’ll help me, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of everything. You just got to follow my advice, and you’ll be good.”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” causing IU to smile.

————

“Is that the last schedule for the day?”

“Yes, sir. You’re done for the day. Are you planning on dining out?”

“No, I just want to go home and rest. This was a busy and long weekend; I wanted to have a drink and relax. I’ll probably go out tomorrow.”

“Would you still like me to service you later tonight?”

“Hmm… actually, how about we share a drink?”

“It would be my pleasure, sir.”

You gather all your belongings and head to your apartment with IU. The two of you wait for the elevator and can’t help but notice the large height difference between the both of you, almost a foot apart. The elevator door slides open, and the two of you enter and scan your keycard to the top floor.

Arriving at the top floor, you walk down a long hallway towards the single, large door on the floor and insert your code to enter, “Finally, back home.” The two of you take your shoes off, leave your items on the table by the hallway, and sit on the large couch.

“Would you like me to serve you the usual?”

“Yes, please.”

IU heads towards the kitchen and to the alcohol cabinet and grabs a bottle and two glass cups. She pours the both of you a drink and walks back. “Here you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I like your initiative, Ji-eun. You’ve become a reliable assistant.”

“No, thank you, sir. For the opportunity to serve you and the help to my family.”

“Ahh, yes. How’s your mother doing?”

“She’s doing well, thanks to your generosity.”

“No need to thank me; it’s all due to your hard work.”

IU grabs the bottle once more and pours another drink as you enjoy the view from the top floor of the building. Watching the sunset is one of your favorite things after coming home from a long day.

“Would you like me to order you takeout, sir?”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

“What would you like?”

“You can choose.”

“Okay, I’ll place an order.”

You place your drink down and change into something more comfortable while waiting for the food to arrive. IU sets the table, cleans a bit of the living room, and places your items where they belong. “Would you like another drink?”

“Yeah, I could go for another one.”

She serves you another drink, and you take small sips as you continue to enjoy the view from your living room couch. You and IU have a small conversation about some of the schedule for next week and about the process of the trainees when IU’s phone pings. “Sorry, sir. It’s the delivery person; I’m going to go down to the lobby and meet them. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

You walk to the kitchen, open the fridge door, and grab a couple of beers for the meal. You wait for IU to arrive and check your messages. When you hear the door ring go off, signaling that IU was coming inside.

“Sir, I’m back.”

“Nice, I grabbed a couple of beers for the two of us.”

“Sir, I met Taeyeon in the lobby and asked her to join us. Would that be okay with you, sir?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“She’ll be coming up in a few. She just went to get changed.”

“Okay, let's get the table ready for three.”

After a few minutes, the doorbell rings, and IU opens the door for Taeyeon. “Hello, sir. Thank you for allowing me into your house.”

“It’s no problem; you’re welcome anytime; come take a seat.”

Taeyeon sits on the couch across from you," Would you like a beer?”

“Yes, I’ll take one.” he grabs a beer and opens it. She crosses her legs, and you catch a glimpse of her not wearing any panties. You try not to look at it, but you can’t help but admire her thighs.

“The pizza is ready.”

“Thanks; actually, do you think it would be better to eat here in the living room since it’s pizza?”

“We could do that,” says IU.

“I’ll help you, Ji-eun,” standing up and helping bring the plates to the living room table.

With everyone sitting down, you all grab a slice of pizza and a beer and start to eat. You ask Taeyeon about her week and if she’s comfortable as the vocal coach.

“I like it here; the place is beautiful, the staff is nice, and the trainees are very hardworking.”

“That’s good to hear. Better than SM, huh.”

“Haha, yeah, it is,” she laughs.

IU mentions that she’s been hearing positive feedback from the trainees ever since she started and congratulated her on a good job. Taeyeon smiles and puts her feet on the couch, giving you a better view of her private area.

You try not to look, but you can’t help your curiosity and eye her every time she moves her legs. IU notices this and asks, " Taeyeon, would you mind passing me a napkin?”

“Sure,�� and she reaches for the napkin, allowing you to get a glimpse of her cleavage under the oversized shirt. IU looks at you and smiles, knowing that the plan is working.

“Like what you, sir?”

You turn around to IU, “What do you mean?”

“I asked if you liked what you saw.”

You see IU’s smile and turn to Taeyeon and see her smile. “What’s going on?”

IU says, “What do you think, sir? She wants you.”

“Is that true?”

“What do you think? I wouldn’t give a show to just anyone,” says Taeyeon.

“Hmm… So the both of you planned this.”

“You catch on quick, sir.”

“Okay, I’ll play your game. Taeyeon, you must be aware of the type of relationship I have with Ji-eun, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Calling her bluff, you stand up, walk towards her, and extend your hand. “Alight, since you want to play, we can go right now.”

“R…right now?” looking at IU, who only smiles.

Knowing what will happen, she takes your hand and follows your lead to one of the bedrooms. The both of you hear a small chuckle from IU, and her saying, “Have fun,” before you close the door.

“You want to play? Let's see if you’re game,” and sit on the one-seater coach in the room.

Taeyeon stands there, confused about what you mean. “Strip.”

Taeyeon is caught off guard by your command and hesitates. You repeat it once more, “Strip.” Understanding you’re serious; she stands before you crosses her arms, and removes her oversized shirt and then her loose, small shorts.

In front of you is a completely nude Taeyeon. She has small breasts and a clean, shaven cunt. Without saying a word, you scan her body, from her feet to her head. She turns around and gives you a view of her behind, “Amazing. I can’t believe a member from Girls Generation is standing in front of me, nude.”

You signal her to approach you and say, “Come over here.” You grab both her hands and her right in front of you. You lick your index and middle finger and rub her lower lips. She moans at the sudden touch of your warm fingers against her cold skin. Using your two fingers, you trace and swirl the outside of her lips until you feel her moist.

You remove your fingers, pull her towards you, and pick her up. She suddenly yelps from being picked up and notices you walking towards the bed. You toss her onto the bed and watch her reaction as you spread her legs wide open, giving you an embarrassed look. She tries to cover her pussy, to which you tease her and say, “I guess you’re all talk and no game,” giving her a smirk. She gets offended and removes her hands out of pride, responding, “I’m not all talk; I can back it up, too.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I’ll give you one last chance to back out.”

“Don’t need it, I can play along.”

“Alright. Let’s play.”

You remove your shirt and shorts and toss it to the couch. Taeyeon’s heart begins to race as she’s focused on your boxers and sees you pull them down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You pull her towards you and her folds once you say, “You have a really nice pussy right here.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I can’t wait to fuck you,” grabbing your cock and pressing it against her lower lips. She pushes your cock away and says, “Wait, you’re not going to wear a condom?”

You stop and are surprised by the most ridiculous question and reply, “What do you mean a condom? I only fuck, raw. Why? You don’t want to?”

No, I was just wondering. I heard that it’s important to wear a condom.”

“I check myself regularly, so I’m good. Are you?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay, then we’re all good to continue, right?”

“Yeah,” turning her head around and thinking of all the possibilities of fucking without a condom.

You grab your cock with your right hand and give it a few pumps and press it against her lower lips. You look at Taeyeon and see her face of anticipation, waiting for your next move. With your hardened cock against her entrance, you smack it against her folds right before inserting yourself inside of her.

Taeyeon groans from the pain of your cock making its way through her tight walls. “Fuck… you’re so tight!” as you shove more of your cock inside her. Due to the pain, Taeyeon grabs onto the bedsheets with all her might.

Suddenly, Taeyeon screams when you shove your whole length inside of her in one go. “Wait…Wait… pull out, pull out, you’re breaking me!”

Seeing her in pain, you pull out your cock, and caress her cheek, “Are you okay?” Taeyeon replies, “You’re too big; I thought it was going to die. Give me some time to get myself together.”

‘Wait… don’t tell me” as you look down and look at the tip of your cock covered in a thin layer of red.

She nods her head in tears and says, “Yeah, it’s my first time.” You’re surprised by her comment and would have never known that this would be her first time, but the idea of being her first man makes you hard again.

You grab a tissue, get yourself cleaned, and reassure Taeyeon that you’ll make it pleasurable. She nods and wipes the tears off her face before you move on to insert yourself once more.

With your cock at the entrance of her, slowly insert your length; Taeyeon groans from the slight pain in her walls and begins to stretch to their limits, “Ow… you’re still too big.” You get on the bed, get on top of her, and begin to kiss her neck and play with her breast as you move inside of her.

Taeyeon slowly forgets about the pain and focuses on the pleasure of your kissing and her tits, “Hmm, yeah… that feels good, don’t stop.” You move towards her breast and take her nipple into your mouth as you play with the other. She continues to moan and let free of her nipple and continue to thrust your cock.

Taeyeon wraps her arms around your neck now that she’s comfortable with your length. You increase the pace of your thrusting, causing her to moan and even laugh, “I can’t describe the feeling, but it feels so good!”

“Just wait, it's going to feel better,” as you place her into a mating press. With her legs pushed back, you do a strong thrust, each other’s pelvis smacking against each other. “How do you like that? Can you feel it deep inside you?”

“Ahh.. yeah, I can feel the difference. My womb is taking the shape of your cock!” Her hands move towards her breast, pinching and twisting her nipples as she feels her orgasm coming.

Seeing her pleasuring herself, you can’t help but tease her as you focus your focus on her clit. Taeyeon yelps, asking you to stop because she can feel an overwhelming feeling approaching.

Instead, you place it between your thumb and your index finger and give it a nice pinch. This causes Taeyeon to instantly cum, as you feel a rush of fluid covering your cock. You pull out and enjoy the scene of her orgasm as her body violently shakes. You watch as she rides her orgasm and decide to tease her, so you insert your middle finger and begin to thrust inside her cunt. “Don’t… don’t do that, you’re going to make me come! Stop!” It didn’t take her long for her to reach her second orgasm. “Ahh, fuck! I’m cumming!” as a gush of fluid sprays and her body spasms.

“Wow, I didn’t have to do much. Seems like you don’t relieve yourself often, but that won’t be a problem now that I’m here. You’re going to be a good fucking with me, but now that you had your fun, it’s my turn.”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I need to get my fill too, you know.”

“Please… wait,” not letting her finish her sentence as you insert your cock inside. She throws her head back and screams, “Oh fuck! You’re going to mess me up inside!” Her walls tighten around your cock, not used to having your massive length inside of it.

“Your walls want to squeeze my cock, fuck you feel so tight.” You start to pump your cock inside her slippery walls, feeling all the grooves and crevices of her meaty flesh.

You listen to the beautiful sound of Taeyeon’s moaning as you thrust inside of her for what feels like ten minutes. Taeyeon is a complete mess; her hair is ruined, and her body is all sweaty. The tipsy sensation has disappeared, and let her know that you’re about to reach your peak, “Fuck, I’m about to cum.”

“Wait… what did you say?”

“I said I’m about to cum. Where do you want it?”

Puzzled, she tries to come up with an answer, and it is taking longer than what you’re used to. Not wanting to hold it in any longer, you decide where you want to bust your load. Feeling the weird feeling of your cock throbbing your cock she says, “Outside, do it outside,” but it's too late.

The amount of time she wastes on deciding, you end up making the choice for her. You pull your cock out and do one last thrust when you hear her say she wants you to cum outside. Instead, all she hears is, “Fuck! I’m cumming!” Her eyes widen when she hears your comment, and she is bombarded with a large wave of cum flooding her womb.

She cries, “So hot! Pull out!” That only makes you want to shove your cock in deep and paint her womb white.

After finishing your orgasm, you notice Taeyeon looking at her bulging belly, filled with your load. You pull out and watch as she presses her fingers on her stomach, causing a large amount of cum to ooze out. “I told you to do it outside.”

“You took too long, so I made a choice. Plus, I normally cum inside of my girls, so there shouldn’t be an issue, right?”

“But I’m not one of your girls. I’m not IU or Irene.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You are not them, but since you took my hand, you’re mine now.”

“You don’t own me.”

“Haha, says the person with the cum of their boss inside of her.”

She sees your smirk and realizes that you’re right; she does have her belly full of your cum right now. “Don’t smirk.”

“You know, I’m right. How about another round?”

“Another round?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re up for it.”

Taeyeon’s pride doesn’t let her back down; she wants to wipe that grin off your face, even if it means going another round. She looks down at you and notices your hardened cock. “Alright, I can do another round.”

“Haha, alright. Let's change the scenery,” as you extend your hand. She takes your hand, and you walk her to the balcony. She looked down and saw the campus and trainees walking in groups back to their dorms after a long Friday night.

You kiss her nape, which causes her to shiver, and her nipples harden. “Put your hands against the railing.”

“Why?”

“Don’t worry. Just let me lead, and enjoy.”

“Okay.”

You raise her right leg up in the air, and with your left hand, you position your cock to her entrance. “What are you do… ahhh” as she feels your cock penetrating her cunt once more. The both of you spend the whole night fucking throughout the penthouse, the balcony, living room, kitchen, and shower. Every time you move locations, you make sure to make the two of you get to orgasm.

————-

Taeyeon wakes up on the bed, looks around, and notices you are gone. She gets up and looks at the many stains throughout the bed, which makes her remember the night she had. She takes a cold shower to wash the stains of fluid on her body, “Ugh… I feel so full.” She presses her stomach and notices a white cream liquid oozing out of her. Pressing her belly harder, a gush of cum squirts out, covering the shower floor cum, “Fuck…that’s too much.”

After her shower, she changed into her clothes and walked out to see you in the living room, reading a newspaper. She walks towards you, “Good morning,” to which you reply, Good Morning, Taeyeon.”

As she walks towards the kitchen, she turns around to ask if she could grab something to eat when she sees IU on her knees. “Ji-eun! What are you doing?”

IU turns around with a smile on her face and replies, “Good Morning, Unnie. I made breakfast, by the way.”

“Why are you going down on him?”

“Oh, I’m having breakfast too. Want some?” as she holds your cock in her hand.

“No!”

“Come on, it's good.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

She looks at her friend’s satisfied face and remembers the videos she has masturbated to before. She looks at you and back at her, giving her a reply.

You woke up this Saturday morning full of energy. After going on a run early in the morning, you return and enjoy the breakfast your assistant, IU, made for you. You give her a treat as a reward for a job well done.

You turn, you’re done reading your newspaper, set it on the table, and enjoy the sight in front of you. “It’s nice to see two friends sharing a meal together,” you say with a slight grin.

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simpxxstan · 5 months ago

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favourite (teaser)

pairing: boss!wonwoo x model!mingyu x f.reader

genre: smut, slowburn, poly!relationship

summary: after being happily single for years, when you develop a crush, you don't know what to do. you think your closest friend (with benefits) can take your mind off things. but when you ask for his help, you certainly didn't imagine this kind of help from him.

final word count: tbd

teaser word count: 600 words

rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!!!

teaser warning: reference to sex with sub male, mention of jealousy, slight sugar daddy wonwoo, asymmetric power dynamics, the entire teaser is suggestive in line with the story itself. wonwoo and mingyu are both depicted to be bisexual in this fanfiction, it does not imply anything with regards to real life as this is just a work of fiction.

a/n: i swear my hormones made me write this. but i can't say i regret it- boss wonwoo will be the death of me. final fic will be nearly 10k words, if not slightly more. pls let me know your thoughts, i'll be waiting <3

release date: out now!

Because you have some time until your company’s jet is scheduled to depart, so you’re roaming through the duty-free stores. You’re walking out of a chocolate store when you notice Mingyu’s life-sized poster, modelling for Calvin Klein.

You smile and grab your phone to take a quick photo, before admiring the advertisement. It must be a recent shoot, because his hair is cropped short like you noticed when he last came over. His muscles look well defined in the photograph, where he’s posing shirtless with a single black tie tied loosely to his neck, and black jeans hung low on his lips. There’s a wildly sensual look in his eyes, as if begging to be taken as you pleased, and it makes you smirk. Now you have something more to tease him for, when you meet him the next time.

“Pretty, isn’t he?” You haven’t realised when Wonwoo’s sidled up to your side, and you notice a Bulgari bag in his hands. So that’s where he’s been shopping while you were busy browsing through chocolates. Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the poster in front of you, an appreciative glint in his eyes.

“Pretty indeed. For as long as I remember him.”

Wonwoo turns to look at you, his eyebrow raised. “Are you a fan? Or a friend?” “The latter. Mingyu and I have been friends since high school.” “How interesting.” Eager to impress him, you elaborate, “I was the one who pushed him to get into modelling. Couldn’t have let looks like that slip, could I?” Wonwoo chuckles. “Indeed not. I’m sure many must thank you, including myself.”

Wonwoo takes out a small box from the bag he’s carrying. Opening the box, you see there’s a bracelet inside. Set with at least sixty 24 carat diamonds. It makes your mouth water and your eyes shine, and you cannot help but envy his boyfriend, if he’s the one on the receiving end of such gifts. “What do you think?

You wonder if it’s too personal a question, but you’re also sure a lot of lines between professional and personal have gotten blurred over this trip. So you bravely ask him, “Is that for your boyfriend?”

Wonwoo doesn’t show any sign of displeasure, if he feels it. His eyes still focused on Mingyu’s poster on the glowing display in front of you, he says, “Hmm. Do you think it’ll suit him?”

Your throat goes dry. If he’s bought it for his boyfriend, why are his eyes fixed on Mingyu? But you don’t think about it. Mingyu’s looks are, after all, captivating.

“I’m sure it will. He’s very lucky to be receiving such a pretty gift. He must be really precious to you.” You laugh lightly, trying to hide the bile of jealousy rising in your throat.

Wonwoo puts away the gift. “He is, of course.” His eyes now shift to yours. “Any favourite of mine is bound to be the most precious to me. And worthy of the prettiest of gifts, whatever they want.”

You fight the blush creeping into your cheeks, trying to stop your heart from racing on. This is ridiculous. Why on earth are you getting into your feels when he’s clearly thinking and talking about his lover? God, Y/N, get a grip on yourself. He’s not yours, and by the look of love and yearning on his face, he never will be.

It’s his voice that breaks you out of your trance. “Miss Y/L/N? The jet’s arrived. Don’t wanna miss it, do we?” You can’t help but nod dumbly and walk behind him to keep pace.

#simpxxstan #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #seventeen x you #svt smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #mingyu smut #seventeen poly #seventeen minwon #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x wonwoo #seventeen fic #Spotify #favourite wonwoo mingyu

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bluemooniegif · 4 months ago

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Soukoku's first meeting could not have been written more perfectly. Allow me to explain

A quick note on the manga panels: these are fan translations from BSD Bibliophile. At one stage they refer to Dazai as 'the youngest boss in Mafia history,' and the executive meeting as 'a meeting of five bosses.' This is just a stylistic choice! All of the panels shown here are from chapters 8 (volume 2), 10 & 11 (volume 3)

I love this scene more than life itself, because it is literally the PERFECT introduction to Chuuya, his character, and his relationship with Dazai. Let's talk about it!

First: some context. Dazai seems to be in a bit of a predicament- he's walked right into a trap set by the Port Mafia, an organisation that we don't know much about at this stage in the story. What we do know, and what we can observe, is this:

Dazai is a former executive, and appears to have walked into the trap on purpose

He is now being held in a room that Akutagawa describes very negatively- the fact of being here is dangerous

Dazai reveals that Akutagawa was once his subordinate, and that he thought very lowly of him at the time. He claims to still think of him this way. Akutagawa has a violent reaction to this.

This is a PERFECT example of 'showing, not telling' within a story. Rather than making a bunch of asides, describing what Dazai and Akutagawa are feeling and why, Asagiri & Harukawa have plopped us into the middle of a rather awkward reunion. I feel like I've walked into my friend's Christmas dinner and am now witnessing family politics unfold real time. It's like watching a car crash.

Now, we move between settings a bit, jumping around to watch Yosano DESTROY Kajii, Atsushi rescue Kyouka, and subsequently be injured and kidnapped by Akutagawa. We watch the Agency fall into disarray when Fukuzawa demands that everyone go looking for Atsushi- interesting, considering that Dazai is IN THE BASEMENT OF THE PORT MAFIA RIGHT NOW.

I've had lots of discussions and arguments about the meaning and significance of this. I won't delve too deep into it for now, but the way I see it is this: something the ADA is really REALLY good at is splitting up Mystery-Inc. style and working to solve cases etc., together, but apart. Dazai is also something of a stray dog (... cat), regularly wandering off and reappearing of his own accord. He's been with the ADA for several years at this point, and they would understand the way he operates well. Even if there's no indication whether he explicitly told anyone what he's doing or where he's going (which honestly, does that matter, when Ranpo would know immediately anyway?), we can safely assume that this is more or less a regular thing for them.

Anyway, back to the point. the Agency is not fazed by Dazai's disappearance... and neither, for some reason, is Dazai. He stands chained to the wall in the PM's basement- the same one, we discover later, where he's brutally tortured countless victims and traitors, and he's humming a little tune to himself, smiling, totally relaxed. We as the audience know he's pretty unflappable, and Akutagawa's expression when he sees him confirms this, too.

But. BUT. This doesn't last.

With the ADA descending into chaos, we switch perspectives back to Dazai again. He's bored at this stage, and thinking to himself that they must be searching for Atsushi soon (an indication that he was riling Akutagawa up earlier, btw) when he hears it: A voice that makes his resolve crack. A look of panic on his face that, at this stage, we haven't seen yet.

He turns, and we see Chuuya for the first time! He's got this strange smug look on his face, something deeply vindictive. Here's a current mafia executive, and he's so happy to see Dazai chained to the wall of their Torture Basement that you can't help but wonder... is there something that Dazai did to him, personally, that makes him feel this way? Or is this guy just so deeply involved with the PM that the fact Dazai left is like a personal slight against him?

Now, we don't really have long enough to truly panic over this predicament, because almost immediately these two fall into their old habits. Dazai isn't PLEASED, but he isn't afraid. He goes right into bantering with Chuuya, who surprisingly meets him right in the middle. Their regular dynamic shines right through: it's quick-witted quips, inside jokes, and knowing looks. It's this odd relaxation in their posture. In all of this, we have an acknowledgement of what they were, and evidence to suggest that they still are... whatever that thing is. Whatever you wanna call it: partners, boyfriends, best friends, buddies. That much is up to interpretation; the only undeniable fact is that they once knew each other better than themselves, and still do.

Then, the fight. This, to me, comes across as more of a way to display how powerful they both are individually: Chuuya punches concrete so hard it shatters in several places, Dazai snaps his fingers and breaks out of handcuffs.

We have front-row seats to what is in my opinion one of the best action sequences in early BSD, not just for what physically transpires, but what it tells us: they deeply understand each other on multiple levels. They're constantly predicting each other's moves, and they know where each other's weak spots are.

But there's also been a lot of growth. Dazai surprises Chuuya a few times, and vice-versa. Despite their apparent closeness, it's still clear that they haven't been together like this for a long, long time.

Then, they reach checkmate. It appears as though Chuuya has won, and we're fed some more Dazai lore- he was the youngest executive the PM ever saw.

This is how Chuuya remembers Dazai. Again, I want to remind you that this is the first time so far we're seeing PM-zai, and he is worlds away from the Dazai we've grown to know so far.

Though Chuuya seems to have driven Dazai into a corner, the roles are quickly reversed when Dazai claims to know something about a meeting between all five of the Mafia's executives. Chuuya quickly realises this is one of his 'predictions,' further proving the depth of their mutual understanding.

With hindsight, we know just how big a deal a meeting of this scale is, and knowing a certain stormbro (who I won't reveal just in case of spoilers) will be there makes me lose my mind, personally. It clearly affects Chuuya, as well, which was undoubtedly Dazai's goal.

With the power balance disrupted again, they quickly fall back into that same bantering dynamic. The volatile nature of their relationship is so perfectly portrayed within this short scene that it actually makes me sick, I genuinely don't think it could have been more perfect

Anyway. Chuuya has realised, at this stage, that Dazai had multiple goals when he allowed himself to be kidnapped, and one of those was to piss Chuuya off (which is something I think he could've managed even if Chuuya wasn't physically there). This, in turn, pisses Chuuya off, especially when he realises the predicament Dazai has left him in- let him escape, or the Mafia suffers. A test of loyalty, Chuuya's greatest weakness. Do you understand why I am tearing my hair out and howling at the moon??? This is fucking insanity.

And then, the final moment! The part we all know and love! Not only does Chuuya choose to err on the side of caution, allowing Dazai to escape- he also leaves with the repetition of another inside joke. And Dazai laughs- he looks genuinely happy, too.

That is all. I'm gonna go cry now ಥ_ಥ

read this original thread on twitter

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazai #chuuya #skk #soukoku #bsd theory #bsd analysis #analysis #they make me cry

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hangup119 · 3 months ago

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FEELS LIKE A THRILLER! ᯓᡣ𐭩

18. all's well that ends well word count | 3k

YOU’VE BEEN FRIENDS WITH ANTON LEE SINCE YOU CAN EVEN REMEMBER. You met each other as kids, forced to hang out with each other at a house party his parent’s had invited your family to. Given that you two were around the same age in comparison to the other kids who were still oblivious babies or whiny toddlers, it was only natural for you and Anton to gravitate towards each other: wherever he went you would follow, your fondest memories with him being when you both constantly abused your ‘big sister’ and ‘big brother’ privileges to boss the other kids around.

But in comparison to you who always got a little too mean towards the little kids, Anton was much more lenient; it was why they often favored him over you, which you didn’t really mind. That meant they’d bother you less during parties. But it was still you who hung out with Anton the most and it was you who stuck to his side even if the younger kids didn’t really want you around. Then middle school came, and you two gradually drifted apart until you had your own set of friend groups in high school—you were off with Minji and Sunoo and Taesan and Jaehyun and Danielle, and he was constantly surrounded by other guys you didn’t really care about (all except for a certain someone, of course, but that’s later on into the future). The house parties happened less and less, the little kids grew up and eventually left the two of you alone, and it was only until he found out about your little crush on Seunghan did you and Anton finally start bringing back the friendship that was slowly becoming forgotten.

Anton is… a good kid, which is why everyone is always drawn to him. He’s always had a heart as big as his head, so perhaps the reason why you’re this nervous about meeting with him after what seemed like days since your fight is because you don’t want to lose him again. Drifting apart is natural, friends fight—you know all that, but at the very least you did not want to end it on bad terms. You don’t want your last memories of your childhood best friend being bitter, which is why you must absolutely not mess this one chance up.

“…Did you ever, like, have a crush on him?” Seunghan inquires slowly, tapping his pen against his chin languidly as he sits on the floor beside your bed.

You give him a small, questioning glare. “Why do you ask?” you start, suspicious. “Because you think girls and boys simply can’t be friends?”

Seunghan shrugs. “Yeah?”

“Wait, really? You really think that?” your shoulders slumped.

“I mean,” Seunghan says, leaning back on your bed. “Anton’s pretty handsome, surely you’ve had a crush on him when you were younger, right?”

You consider it. “Hmm… well, I guess I did.”

“Really?” Seunghan seems more shocked rather than appalled. You hoped that was a good thing.

“In seventh grade, I think,” you clarify, “that was when he started getting…cute, I guess, and he was also getting more involved in swimming. Everyone started finding him attractive too, so it wasn’t just me. It was like being attracted to him was the new trend, or something.”

“What happened after that?”

“Well, he got a girlfriend around that time, so I quickly lost all the interest I had in him. I think I was super in-denial about it, too, so it’s not like anything would have happened between us because I didn’t want it happening at all,” you blandly respond. “Anyway, whenever I think about dating Anton, I just keep remembering about how he’d always cling and cry to his mom for hours when something didn't go his way back when we were little. So, major turn-off.”

Seunghan laughs loudly, and you watch him fondly as he tries to regain his senses. “Seriously?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Seriously.”

Seunghan looks at you thoughtfully. “So you lost interest in him because he got a girlfriend, but why wasn’t it the same when it came to me?”

You pause, blinking slowly at him as shock invades your expression. Seunghan merely stares right back at you, an easygoing smile on his face while he waits for your response.

“I…” your words lose you, and you desperately try to grab at them. But Seunghan is patient, he waits for you to gather them, leaning his cheek against the cap of his knee while he sits beside you on the floor of your room. “I don’t… know?”

His smile widens. “You don’t know?”

You feel your face flush. “Well, I mean,” you start off bashfully, looking away from his prying gaze. “This and that are different… I knew Anton way before I started crushing on him, but I barely knew you. Plus, I realized I just saw him as a brother, but you… we weren’t even friends in the first place…”

Your face is probably as hot as a whistling kettle after you finished talking, and Seunghan’s amused smile isn’t helping your situation in the slightest.

“Don’t start teasing me,” you grumble, and Seunghan just laughs again, moving closer to pinch your cheek.

“But you’re so cute,” Seunghan coos, inching closer while you attempt to push his invasive hands away from your face. “You’re my cute girl, the cutest ever, I just wanna—”

A loud knock interrupts him, and you jump at the sound.

“Anton,” you gasp, staring back at Seunghan with wide eyes.

His silence enables you to aggressively push him away from you, and he gently stumbles back into the opposite way as you scramble to get onto your feet. He gives you an offended look, and you look back at him with an apologetic expression only to be met with a playful roll of his eyes. You hype yourself up as you make your way to the door, before opening it without further ado.

Anton blinks down at you. “Oh, hey,” he casually says.

“Hey!” you respond, suspiciously a little out of breath.

Anton glances at Seunghan who’s keeping himself busy with his laptop by the back, looks at your flushed face, before making a disgusted expression. “Ew, don’t tell me you two were making out just now…”

Seunghan freezes, the tips of his ears turning red while your jaw almost hits the floor.

You instinctively hit Anton’s arm. “No, we weren’t, idiot!”

He yelps, nursing his arm. “Ow! You didn’t have to hit me, jeez… I came here in peace, and this is how you treat me?”

You cringe. “Sorry…”

Anton quickly digresses. He meets your hesitant gaze, quietly asking, “Can we talk outside?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you blinked. There it was—the Anton you knew when you were kids, always so shy despite being in the company of his friends. But the situation is a little more than just that, so you understand where he was coming from. “In the hallway?”

“Yeah, it won’t be quick,” Anton confirms as you step out of the room, taking one last longing look at Seunghan, who merely sends you back a reassuring smile as if he was saying ‘goodluck!’ to the both of you. (You refrained from eating your fist at how cute he looked.)

Out in the hall, the air turns into suffocating awkwardness you never thought you’d have with Anton Lee. You don’t remember being this… tense around his presence, as if you’re walking around eggshells around him no matter how nonchalant the two of you tried to act. You try to recall the last time you felt this awkward around him, but you can only come up with the brief moment in middle school when you harbored a crush on him that hadn’t even lasted a week. You had felt awkward around him because viewing Anton in a romantic light never really seemed that appealing, but that feeling had immediately washed away when you realized all you ever wanted out of him was his friendship and nothing else.

Of course, you can’t say the same about Anton. It’s not as if you can read his mind despite knowing him for so long now, but now you wonder if he’s experienced the same feelings you once did. And, in some part of you, you wonder if he harbors any romantic feelings for you right now—even if the rest of your friends tried to hide it, you weren’t oblivious to Jaehyun’s knowing glances whenever you and Anton were in the same room.

You just didn’t want to acknowledge such things ever again, not when your friendship with him has been sailing pretty well these past few years already.

Well, until now, that is.

“So…” you trail off, looking at his shoulder instead of his face.

“I’m sorry,” Anton immediately says, voice quieter than ever.

Oh.

“I shouldn’t have acted so weird after promising I’d set you up with Seunghan,” he continues, scratching his nape. “I never meant to insinuate that your feelings for him were shallow. I know how much you like him, but I ended up projecting my doubts into you and ruining our friendship in the process anyway. I honestly really, really wanted you guys to get together because I know that’s what makes you happy, and it’s also what makes Seunghan happy, so—”

“I forgive you, Anton,” you interrupt, before looking down at the floor. “And I’m also sorry; I shouldn’t have cornered you like that in the groupchat. I just… I just hated the thought of you disapproving of my relationship with him, even though you were only worried about us. And I don’t blame you for being suspicious of me, too, because I was honestly starting to falter during the first stages of becoming close with Seunghan, but I ended up really liking him anyway. And I’m glad you helped us get closer, really; I just wish we went about our concerns differently and honestly.”

“Yeah,” Anton agrees, smiling lightly, “but it’s okay now. You got your man, and I did my job. We’re all good. Right?”

“Yeah,” you repeat. “Life is good.”

“Eh, well, not… really? I have a composition assignment due in forty-eight hours and I haven’t gotten a single note in,” Anton says dryly. “I need to lock in right now.”

You push him, and he looks back at you in offense. You smiled, saying, “Lock in with us, then. We were just doing homework, for your information.”

Anton grumbles. “Yeah, right… I’d still third-wheel anyway.”

“Don’t be a big baby, ‘ton,” you roll your eyes. “We’re not gonna kiss in front of you.”

“Please don’t put that image in my mind. I’ll vomit right in this hall.”

“And I’ll make you clean it up, then I’m gonna tell your mommy how good of a job you did.”

“Kay why ess.”

You pause, looking at him thoughtfully. Anton slowly looks back at you, and you send him a small smile.

“...Thanks for looking out for us,” you say, quietly, “you’re a—...you’re a good best friend.”

“Naturally,” Anton snorts, and you give him a blank look. He quickly feigns a cough, saying, “You’re my best friend, too. Of course I’ll look out for you.”

It feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

“...Can you believe that I had a crush on you during seventh grade?” you joke, intending to lighten the mood.

“Yeah?” Anton raises a brow at you, surprisingly unfazed.

You blink.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I knew you liked me at that time,” Anton casually replies. “But then you started liking Intak from choir. By the way, he also knew you liked him—he told me at our last concert.”

“What?! How?!”

“...You’re not that slick, you do know that, right? The only reason Seunghan never knew was because you barely talked to him.” Anton explained dryly, sending you a disapproving look. “You were too—admirer-like. It gets sad to look at sometimes. Those four years could’ve been shortened to, like—I don’t know, three months? If you just freakin’ talked to him or something.”

Your eyes narrow. Anton raises his arms up in defense.

“But all’s well that ends well, right?” he quickly says, voice laced with a tinge of panic. “Let’s not drag this scene out now…”

You sigh in response, but oblige nonetheless. “You’re right. All’s well that ends well.”

You smile at Anton again, feeling content. You hope he shares the sentiment.

Just in time, Seunghan pops his head out from your door, looking both ways before finding the two of you crowding to the right. The creaking sound the door made as it opened forces yours and Anton’s attention towards the interruption, only to find a sheepish Seunghan stare right back at you.

“You guys have been out here for a while—just checking,” he says, ruffling his already messy black hair. “My bad.”

Although he tries to play it off with an air of nonchalance, you think you sense a hint of worry in his tone regardless. The thought makes you both uneasy and excited at the same time, which shouldn't even make sense but it just does.

Because Seunghan’s your boyfriend. And sometimes boyfriends get jealous when their girlfriend’s are alone with another guy. God, you shouldn’t be liking that sentence as much as you actually do.

“It’s all good, man,” Anton assures, waving a hand placatingly. Awkward again, but that’s none of your concern anymore—that’s just how Anton is anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, flickering his gaze between the two of you. “Um, so… I think I’ll go now. See you guys later.”

“What?” Seunghan exclaims, a little too dejected. “So soon? You should stay and study with us. I know you still have that composition assignment to work on, and if you go back to your dorm now I know Sungchan’s just going to distract you.”

Anton winces. “Erm… I think I’d rather have that than third whe—”

You interrupt him. “He’s right! We’re better company than Sungchan anyway. Stay. Let’s get some food or something. And pull an all-nighter or whatever.”

Seunghan nods excitedly. Anton looks at the both of you incredulously.

“What the heck? You guys haven’t even been dating for a month, yet you’re already so in-sync of being annoying,” he says. “You’re quite literally making me pick between two evils right now.”

“So you’re staying?” Seunghan asks, grinning widely. You share the same, hopeful expression. “The lesser evil is definitely us, right?”

“...I’m not so sure about that.”

“Pleaaaaase, Anton, we promise we’ll be good, supportive study-buddies!” Seunghan needlessly insists. And you should be a little irked that your boyfriend’s begging another man to hang out with you two, but you surprisingly aren’t. One more company didn’t hurt, after all.

So Anton can’t even believe what he’s about to say next:

“Fine, but Y/N’s paying for food!”

You and Seunghan immediately cheer.

“Wait, what?” you ask dumbly.

But you eventually relent as the other two start making their way down the hall, an echo of a nonsensical conversation picking up. At least it didn’t take that much of a resistance from Anton to agree to yours and Seunghan’s invitation, and sure, it would’ve been nicer to just hang out with your boyfriend, but you also didn’t mind having your best friend tagging along as well. He was, after all, most of the reason why the two of you got together in the first place, so you more or less owed it to him. Plus, a hang out will slowly dissolve that suffocating awkwardness that has been circling between the two of you these past few weeks despite having already made up just minutes ago anyway, so really—all’s well that ends well.

When you finally catch up to them, Seunghan is the first one to speak up.

“So, Anton, was there ever a time you liked Y/N?”

The two of you practically choke on air.

“Excuse me,” you say.

Anton’s response is quieter. “You heard us…?”

Seunghan laughs. “Sorry, I got curious…” he says although he doesn’t sound all that remorseful. “Did you, though?”

“How can you just ask that?” Anton squeaks out.

“No, wait, I’m curious too!” you exclaim. “I can’t just be the one who had feelings for you at some point—you know how embarrassing that is?!”

Seunghan nods along. “Yeah! So embarrassing!”

“You guys are crazy, you’re literally her boyfriend!” Anton cries out, before slowly turning away. “...And yes, I did like her back at some point.”

You almost trip on nothing. “What?”

Anton awkwardly avoids your gaze.

Seunghan hollers, and you send him a pointed look. He quiets down.

You look concerningly horrified when you ask Anton. “Wait… you’re for real? When? Why? How?”

“In seventh grade,” he replies meekly. “It just happened, I guess.”

You and Seunghan almost go into shock.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, staring at Anton with wide eyes. “You guys could’ve been—oh, my God. Wow.”

“Wait, so if you knew I liked you, then why didn’t you…?” you trail off, confused.

Anton rolls his eyes indignantly. “By the time I did have feelings for you, you were already over it. What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know—fight for her?” Seunghan suggests. “Such a wasted opportunity…”

“Dude,” Anton says dryly. “If I did that, you guys wouldn’t be dating right now!”

“Oh, right.”

You snort. “I guess it just means we aren’t meant for each other, huh?” you joke.

Seunghan almost looks sad. “Well, when you put it like that… I guess it really was a ‘right person, wrong time’ kind of situation, huh?”

“Yeah,” Anton says. “I like this outcome better, though. I like you guys together.”

You look at him pitifully. “Anton, you don’t have to be sad…”

“I’m not sad.”

“We’ll find you a partner soon… for all the help you’ve given us… I mean, they probably won’t be as cool and awesome as me, but at least you won’t be lonely anymore…”

“No thanks. Can we just go get food now?”

“No, really, Seunghan and I are always here for you. You helped us, so now it’s our turn to help you—what do you think of Wonyoung? She’s pre-med.”

“Oh! I know someone who’s friends with her, what do you think? I think you guys would be a good match.”

“Go to hell, the two of you.”

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY. pining after hong seunghan has always felt like an unachievable reality; however, just a few months into your first year of college, it seems that the gods have finally listened to your prayers when news breaks out that your long-time crush is single once again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. hi guys sorry for the longassshhh wait omg. i cant believe it took me this long to finish the reconciliation chapter but ykw... we're here now and that's all that matters. i will never leave u guys hanging ✊anyways this baby is ending in 1 chapter tehee see u next time.

TAGLIST. @shoberi @miyawwn @starwonb1n @yujinxue @revehosh @alwayswook @rksbae @emohoon @nujeskz @ilovejungwonandhaechan @meowbini @nakam00t @siuewnb @cake1box @dearmarklee @kyusqult @snowyseungs @ffixtionista @odxrilove @hisrkive @saeist @lilysflower1 @onlyhyunjin @eternallyhyucks @syzavxy @calumsfringe @yipyipmorals @user7520 @tojis-luver @ilymarkchan @fae-renjun @otblous @injunnie-lemon @jjk-97 @leeis @brachioswrld @i1uvc4ke @soheendo

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

Text

My Favorite Story | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @peakyswritings

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy finds himself spending time in his office for other reasons once he finds out (Y/N)'s interest in the room.

Warnings: smoking

Word Count: 4024

A/N: sorry if this one got a little corny at the end…thanks Reb, for allowing me to put my love of books into a story. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Come out, come out wherever you are, Charlie!" (Y/N) called as she wandered the halls of Arrow House, looking for the small boy whom she was a nanny to. They were currently playing hide-and-seek, and it was the four year old's turn to hide.

She went from room to room, giving each only a quick glance because her opponent was only four after all...he wasn't going to be hiding in any advanced places. She continued on, checking each of the rooms on the first floor (because that's where their playing field was) until she got to the only hallway left. This one held a more formal sitting room, and her employer, Thomas Shelby's, office. She had hoped that Charlie wouldn't have gone down this hall because she knew that her boss was particular about the people he let into his personal office. But with all of the other rooms and hallways checked, she was quickly running out of options.

She checked in the sitting room and found it empty, which left her with one final choice of where to look. The door was also cracked, so there was a good chance that he was hiding in there. Out of all of the rooms in the house...you just want me to get into trouble, don't you? she thought to herself as she approached the door. "Charlie?!" she called out while slowly opening the door, treating it like there was tripwire on the other side and it would set off if she moved too quickly.

Giggles sounded out the second she stepped into the room. They were, of course, coming from the far corner, where the floor-to-ceiling windows were. She took a moment to take in her surroundings. This clearly wasn't one of the rooms she'd been in very much, so it all seemed foreign to her.

Something that jumped out right away was the expansive book collection that lined the walls of the room. Not a single shelf seemed to be empty, and all of the books were organized into neat rows; their spines just begging for her to run her fingers across. She would have thought that she'd died and gone to heaven if she didn't know any better. But she did...and right now she needed to find the child she'd been searching for and get out before it became a personal hell.

"Where are you, Charlie?" she called out as she walked even further into the room. She wanted to smile at his adorable giggles, but the worry of getting caught, and reprimanded kept her strict to her mission of ‘find the kid and get out’.

"You can't see me, Miss (Y/N)," he said in between his giggles, which she now realized were coming from behind the curtains.

"I think I'm getting closer," she told him, only a few steps from his hiding spot now, "hmm...why could there be shoes coming out from under the curtains?" she wondered aloud as she reached out to take hold of the curtains. The giggles quieted down as the child prepared to be found. "There you are!" (Y/N) exclaimed as she pulled the curtain slightly to the side, coming face to face with the beaming boy.

"You found me!" Charlie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"You had a good hiding spot," (Y/N) told him, a smile on her face, "although you should know better than to hide in your father's office," she added, her voice holding a more stern tone.

"It's your turn!" he cheered, unphased by her statement.

The sound of the front door closing rang out through the halls before anything else could be said. (Y/N) stiffened in her spot, knowing that that sound could only mean one thing...

"Daddy!" Charlie yelled as loud as he could before he took off running out of the room.

(Y/N) was still frozen. She wanted to run like hell out of the room and try to make it seem as though she wasn't just in a room that was supposed to be off-limits, but instead her feet stayed glued to the hardwood. The voice of Tommy Shelby came clearly from the foyer, greeting his son and asking him what he'd been doing while he was away.

Hearing him speak made her kick into gear, and she was able to walk the length of the room and reach the door just as she heard footsteps starting to come her way.

"I was playing hide-and-seek with Miss (Y/N)!" Charlie excitedly told his father as he led him down the hall he'd left his nanny in, "and I had a really good spot."

"Did you?" Tommy asked, intrigue present in his voice as he wondered where his son was taking him. When he looked up, he noticed (Y/N) in the process of shutting the door to his office. His eyebrows furrowed at this, trying to remember if he'd locked the door or not when he was leaving this morning.

His office was the one room in the house that he didn't want Charlie roaming about freely in. There were too many bad things held in there for a child to be going through it unattended.

"Where was this hiding spot, eh?" Tommy asked his son when they stopped a few steps away from where (Y/N) was standing.

"I hid behind the curtains!" the boy wasted no time in exclaiming, not seeing any problem in where he'd chosen to hide. (Y/N), on the other hand, felt like she was about to faint as she waited on baited breath for Tommy's reaction to Charlie's answer.

Instead of quickly deciding (Y/N)'s fate, Tommy did one of the things he does best: look to each of the people standing in front of him as he dragged his statement out until it felt like (Y/N) was going to explode from the tension.

"He was...we were in your office, Mr. Shelby, I'm so sorry," she admitted, the words rushing out of her mouth before she had much time to process them. She hoped they made sense.

Tommy stayed quiet for a few more moments after she spoke, blinking a few times as he thought her words over. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger as he thought of the rule that had been broken. Of all people, (Y/N) should have known that Charlie wasn't allowed in his office unattended.

"I've already told him that he shouldn't be going into your personal rooms, but he..."

"Stop," his voice finally broke through her second round of explanations. She closed her mouth as soon as she heard him, holding her breath as she hoped that she'd still have a job after this conversation was over. "There's no need to explain yourself any further," he told her, his voice flat, giving her no indication of what he was thinking.

(Y/N) continued to hold her breath as she watched Tommy turn to look at Charlie. "You should know better than to go into my office when I'm not home, Charles. Next time you listen to what (Y/N) is telling you, alright?" he asked with raised eyebrows, his voice stern.

"Yes, sir," Charlie answered like he knew he was supposed to, nodding his head once.

"Good lad. Go on now...go play in your room," Tommy instructed him once he deemed the boy to have understood the message he was trying to get across.

Charlie turned to (Y/N) before going anywhere. (Y/N) immediately knew that he was waiting for her to join him, but a quick glance at Tommy to see his eyes trained on her made her realize that maybe she should stick around for a few moments longer. "I'll be up shortly, Charlie," she told the boy, who nodded before running past his father to go to his room.

(Y/N) swallowed thickly as she focused on Tommy again, waiting to see if he'd be the first to say something. The anticipation was, once again, killing her.

"He didn't touch anything, did he?" Tommy finally asked; his question being one of the last that (Y/N) expected to come out of his mouth.

"No, Mr. Shelby. Everything was in its rightful place when I entered the room," she assured him.

"Good," he nodded, happy with her answer. "You're able to go with him," he said to her then, stepping out of the way so that she'd have room to pass him.

"That's all?" she asked, the words coming out before she could stop them.

Tommy's brows furrowed in confusion upon hearing her statement. "What do you mean?"

"You're not angry at me? I'm not in trouble for entering your office?" she rattled off some of the questions that were circling through her brain.

"I'm not, no," he shook his head, "let's not make a habit of it though, eh?"

"Of course, Mr. Shelby," she nodded, still surprised by how the situation had gone. She was still expecting him to blow his lid on her...it wouldn't be the first time he'd done it to one of his employees. She wasn't about to give him a reason to do so though. "Thank you," she said then, ducking her head before she walked past him so that she could go and be with Charlie again.

Tommy took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly as he moved to open his office door. He knew for certain that he would have just had a completely different conversation if (Y/N) hadn't been the one who was closing the door. He'd felt something different towards her from the moment she was hired on as Charlie's live-in nanny a little over a year ago. His son adored her, and he was happy that Charlie would grow up with someone who genuinely cared for him, and who would be able to be with him when his father was away. (Y/N) provided a much needed sense of security for a boy who'd been through so much in his short life so far.

(Y/N) brought something into the house that had been missing. Tommy often wondered if he'd grown a soft spot for her because of how she was with Charlie, or if there was maybe a little more behind the reason.

He sunk into his office chair with a sigh, looking at the picture of his late wife and son as they stared back at him. If only it had been that easy, he thought to himself before grabbing the cigarette tin so that he could take one out and roll it along his lips, but things happen for a reason, right?.

——

(Y/N) knocked on the door to her employer's office, waiting to hear if he was in before entering. His muffled voice calling for her to 'come' came through the mahogany moments later, making her turn the knob and open the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby," she greeted him as she found him sitting behind his desk.

"Hello, Miss (Y/L/N)," he returned the greeting, "is there something I can do for you?"

"I have Charlie's quarterly report. I figured you'd want it as soon as I was finished with it," she told him, holding the papers up into view.

Tommy nodded at her words. "Let's have a look then," he said, beckoning her over to his desk with a wave of his hand. (Y/N) nodded and walked across the room, stopping in front of his desk so that she could hand him the papers. He sat his glasses on the bridge of his nose before he began looking through them, reading the detailed report of how his son was progressing. "You think he'll be ready to start schooling?" he asked her after a few, quiet moments had passed, glancing up at her.

"I think so, sir. He's a very bright boy," she answered with a nod and a slight smile.

"And everything else seems to be in order...as far as developments go?" he asked another question.

"Yes," she nodded again, "there's even some things he's excelling at," she added, a proud smile forming on her face. Even though she knew she shouldn't, she'd come to love Charlie like he was her own. Spending nearly every day with him had created such a beautiful relationship between the two. She wouldn't know what she'd do without him.

"That's good to hear," Tommy nodded, continuing to look through the papers.

"He should be ready to start school in the fall," she shared the information that had been weighing on her mind, her smile faltering slightly, "and I'll promptly begin work on finding another placement for myself. I'll place adds in the papers, I'll..."

"No," Tommy cut her off abruptly with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head, "I want you to stay here with Charlie."

"He won't need me anymore, Mr. Shelby," she told him, a bit surprised by his interjection.

"Yes he will," he nodded, his eyes locked onto hers, "he's quite fond of you, (Y/N), and I don't want to separate that." We're all quite fond of you, he thought to himself as he studied her face. "I'll continue to pay you, and you'll continue to live here."

"You're serious?" (Y/N) checked, a slight gasp leaving her lips as a smile played on them.

"I am," he nodded again, clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on the desk.

"That's so very kind of you...I will tell Charlie of this as soon as he is back from his riding lesson. He will be so thrilled. Thank you, Mr. Shelby," she expressed her gratitude, allowing the smile to take over her features.

"Thank you, Miss (Y/L/N)," he returned the sentiment, "you're free to go," he said then, signaling the end of the conversation.

(Y/N) nodded and turned to exit the room. She walked a few steps before stopping, the shelves of books catching her eye again. She folded her hands together in front of her skirt as she glanced around the room.

"Is there something else you need?" Tommy's voice broke the silence in the room, making her snap from her trance to turn and face him again.

"No, Mr. Shelby, I..." she trailed off, feeling slightly bashful for being caught admiring the books, "I'm just amazed by the amount of books that you have in here," she decided to tell him why she'd stuck around, a soft smile forming on her face after the admission.

"You read?" he asked her, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

"I do," she nodded, "I'm slowly running out of material though, and the workers' library that you've so graciously given us only has so many books, so to see these books in here made me..." she trailed off as she realized she was sharing too much information, her face heating up as she looked down at the ground.

Tommy let the silence hang in the air for a few moments as he thought about what she'd said. "Would you want to read in here?" he asked her then, his question making her eyes shoot up to his.

"You'd let me?" she asked, her words coming out in a surprised gasp.

"Yeah," he nodded, his simple response making excitement bubble up inside of (Y/N).

"I'd really like that, thank you, Mr. Shelby," she said to him, expressing her gratitude once more. She swore that she saw the ghost of a smile flash across his lips as he nodded his head again. "I'm going to go be with Charlie now, sir...he should be returning from his lesson any moment." Tommy nodded again at her words, and she finally exited the room, her excitement boiling over as a giddy smile spread across her face. There was nothing she loved more than books.

——

It became a routine for (Y/N) to go into Tommy's study so that she could read every day after that. Tommy would be in the room sometimes, working on whatever it was that he needed to get done. She quickly came to love the peaceful silence that filled the room as they cohabitated in it. Being with him felt comfortable to her...almost as comfortable as it felt when she was spending time with Charlie.

"Do you have a favorite book?" Tommy asked out of the blue one day, his words making (Y/N) look up from the page she was reading.

"I do, yes," she responded, a smile quickly forming on her face at the thought of discussing something she liked, "it's called Walden and it's by an American author named Henry David Thoreau. He writes about being alone and immersed in the wilderness in it...it's always such a mind clearing read," she informed him of her favorite book and explained why it held that title.

"Do I have it?" he asked her, his brows furrowed in curiosity.

"I've not found it on the shelves...it's been a while since I've read it, actually," she answered, remembering clearly one of her first days spent in the room. She was rather bummed when she came up empty in her search.

"Noted," he nodded, picking up his pen and focusing his attention back on the paper in front of him. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows at the conversation she'd just had, confused as to why he'd just asked her that out of nowhere. Silence persisted in the room again, so she went back to reading.

——

"You're late today," Tommy commented as he watched (Y/N) enter the room.

"Charles wouldn't settle," she answered him, a slight smile on her face as she tried to push her feelings of nervousness down. She knew it wasn't the case, but she couldn't help but feel like a child who had just been called into the headmaster's office.

"Is he fine now?" he asked her, watching as she skimmed the shelves, looking for the book she'd indulge in that evening.

"He is...he had a burst of energy before bed," she answered, her eyes still focused on the books. Nothing was jumping out at her. She'd just finished a book and was now in that weird in between where she couldn't get interested in something else.

After searching for a few more minutes, (Y/N) gave up with a sigh. She moved over to the couch and sat down, resting her head back against the cushion. "All these books and yet there's nothing to read," she mumbled to herself, staring at the fire.

"Something wrong?" Tommy questioned as he watched her carefully.

"I've got nothing to read," she answered, fully aware of how dramatic she sounded, but yet not caring.

Tommy chuckled at her statement before he stood from his chair. (Y/N) turned her head and watched him as he opened one of the desk's drawers and took something from it before he made his way over to where she was sitting. Her brows furrowed together when she noticed that what he had in his hand looked like a book. Without a word, he sat down next to her and extended his arm with the book in her direction.

"What's this?" she questioned, accepting the book from his hand.

"It came in yesterday...I figured you might want to read it," he answered, giving no explicit clues to her.

(Y/N) sent him a look of confusion, to which he responded with a slight nod, silently telling her to open the book. She listened, and she just about gasped when she opened the cover and read the title page. "You found me Walden?" she asked him, surprise was present in her features when she looked up at him once more.

"I did," he nodded, the corner of his lips tugging upwards as he noticed how happy this gesture had made her.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Shelby!" she couldn't hold her excitement back, a wide smile breaking onto her face as she clutched the book close to her.

"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he said, happy that he'd made her happy. "You can call me Tommy when we're in here...you're not working," he told her then and she nodded, feeling the butterflies react to the advancement.

She eagerly opened the book then, more than ready to dive into Thoreau's words and experience his adventures again. Tommy stayed sitting on the couch, fishing the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could stick one between his lips and strike it with a lighter. He rested his head back against the couch and watched (Y/N) as she quickly became immersed in the world her book's pages held. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt as content as he did now; the last time he rather sit and do nothing instead of continuing on with his work.

"Do you have a favorite story?" (Y/N)'s question broke him from his thoughts, and when he glanced in her direction, he saw that she'd lowered her book and was looking at him.

"My favorite story?" he replied with a question. (Y/N) nodded. Tommy paused for a moment, looking at the fire as he thought it over. He then chuckled slightly before responding, "perhaps it's one that hasn't been written yet."

(Y/N) couldn't believe his reply. She bit on her lip to try and contain the smile that was threatening to form the second after she heard it as Tommy watched her intently for her reaction to his words.

"That sounded a bit soppy, didn't it?" he questioned her after a few moments had passed, taking one last drag from his cigarette before he stamped it out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

"Not at all," she answered, biting on the knuckle of her index finger to stifle the giggles that were threatening to escape as she spoke.

Tommy looked at her once he was sitting properly again, admiring her face as she did the same with him. Nothing was said as he then reached over and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. (Y/N) froze slightly at the action, her eyes locked onto his as he gently ran the back of his hand down the line from her cheek to her jaw. His touch made her skin feel like it had been set alight.

"I'm sorry my hair isn't properly done up," she apologized, her voice much softer now.

"Don't apologize," he brushed her off, his voice's tone matching hers. He kept his hand resting on her jaw, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb as he savored the feeling of her soft skin.

(Y/N) hoped she looked calm on the outside, because all of her systems were firing in her brain. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't want something like this to occur between her and Tommy. Her feelings for him seemed to grow with each hour she spent in his study; reading books while he worked. In a way she felt like she had already been with him; like they were a couple who had already settled into a peaceful married life and liked to come together in the evenings and just spent time in the other's presence. She had to keep reminding herself that she was only Charlie's nanny.

But with the way he was acting, she may not only be that for long...

"Would you come to dinner with me?" he asked her after some time had passed.

"You'd want me to?" she shyly asked him, her eyes slightly widening at his offer.

"I would," he nodded, "maybe then I could tell you a bit more about an idea for my favorite story."

"I'd like that," (Y/N) nodded, a smile forming on her face as her butterflies went swarming again, "I'd like to hear more about your favorite story."

Little did she know that his favorite story was the one they were about to write.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife

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