#also i know that plush came out a long time ago i dragged the sketch for like 20 days and im dealing with it rn because of something else

[kaiserouo]

okay i admit i like that plush a little bit

[earliebirb]

nosedive

steve/tony, fluff, (newly) established relationship, 3250 words

Tony stares absentmindedly out the airplane window as he puts his phone up to his ear, watching people run back and forth, performing last-minute engine checks. Some of the guys look sweaty and out of breath.

From the comfort of the air-conditioned Stark Industries private jet, he feels a slight twinge of sympathy for the people having to suffer in the humid summer heat.

He loosens his tie and sinks deeply into his seat, closing his eyes with a massive yawn as he listens to the ringing tone. He hadn’t been able to sleep very well throughout his five-day stay in Tokyo, too anxious about the contract to rest properly. 

The ringing tone goes on for a few more seconds before ending with a click, replaced by an achingly familiar voice greeting him in his ear. 

“Hello?” 

Tony’s eyes spring open. Outside, an aircraft marshaller walks by, speaking rapidly into his walkie-talkie.

“I had a blueberry muffin for lunch today. One single blueberry muffin.”

“...What?”

“It didn’t even taste that good. I couldn’t finish it. Too dry.”

“Tony, that’s not good. Is that all you had for lunch? You should really eat—”

“The meeting went well, by the way. Mr. Watanabe finally signed the contract, everything went as planned. My ride to the airport, however…”

“I told you things would go smoothly, you had nothing to worry about. You’re a brilliant negotiator—”

“The traffic? Fuck. I had to keep shifting in my seat to avoid pins and needles.”

“That sounds awful, are your legs okay—”

“Did you know that Tokyo is number nineteen on the list of cities with the worst traffic congestion in the world? I know that, because I looked it up on the way to the airport. But boy, did it feel like it deserved the number one spot. I think I lost feeling in my ass.”

“I did not know that. And, uh, is your ass okay—”

“Thank God for my private jet. These plush seats are the best things I’ve ever spent my money on.”

“That’s objectively not true, and you know it—”

“Then again, I think these seats in particular were Pepper’s choice? We remodeled the airplane’s interior like… two years ago. I couldn’t be bothered to meet with the airplane seat people and I just told her to pick whichever looked best. I had much more important things to tend to, like sewing up the holes in JARVIS’s Christmas stocking.”

“I am concerned about how you sort your list of priorities—”

“Hm, that’s right. I think it was around two, three weeks before Christmas and I didn’t want JARVIS to be upset about the whole stocking thing, you know?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have—”

“Also, you’re right, the single blueberry muffin was a bad idea because now my stomach won’t shut up. So I’ve ordered some pasta for my in-flight meal. Robbie’s making it, you’ve met Robbie—”

“I’ve met Robbie, yes, he’s—”

“Larry’s replacement after he resigned. Gotta say, I was sad to see Larry go. Guy worked for me for seven years. But then there was that thing with his grandma, and he had to leave, so… But! Robbie makes a mean carbonara, maybe even better than Larry, don’t tell Larry I said that—”

“I don’t even know Larry like that, how would I—”

“Mr. Stark, we’re ready to go.” The pilot—Paul—emerges from the cockpit, staring at him in anticipation.

Tony nods and makes a few rapid gestures with his free hand that he supposes Paul is only able to interpret perfectly after years and years of working for Tony. The gestures roughly translate to something like “Copy, I hear you, just let me wrap this up and then I’ll let you know when I’m done. Capiche?”

Paul—bless him—just gives him a curt nod and retreats back into the cockpit. 

“Anyway,” Tony takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out with the exertion of his exhale, “I called because… I got a feeling, Steve.”

“A… feeling?”

“Just— A gut feeling. A feeling in your gut. Inside of me. Like a hunch?”

“Okay,” Steve says patiently, his voice low and warm, “what are you feeling?”

“I… got a bad feeling. Today. A few hours ago. The feeling came to me when I was sitting in traffic, and I just— I feel like something bad’s gonna happen today, Steve. I can feel it in the air. In my heart. In my gut. In my joints.”

“Your joints? Like… the feeling old people get when it’s about to rain?”

“Okay, maybe not in my joints. Also, are you calling me old, grandpa?”

“I did not, you told me you felt something in your—”

“Anyway, so yeah. Where was I? Oh, right. Feeling. Bad feeling. Like, like, I don’t know, something bad’s gonna happen. Like an accident. Like a plane crash.”

“God, please don’t say that. You’re scaring me, Tony.”

“And I guess, I just called because I… I feel like I need to do this before the plane crashes and I die a violent and fiery death.”

“Nothing bad’s going to happen, Tony—”

“Like, if I didn’t do this today, maybe I’d never get to do it, you know? And, uh, okay, I’ve honestly been ranting to stall for time, but the longer I keep it in the more nauseous I feel, so maybe I’m just gonna do it now so I can die in peace—”

“Do what? And stop saying that—”

“Look, I’m trying to be brave and honest here and— Wait, actually? Maybe I’m being a coward because if the plane actually does go down, I won’t have to face the consequences of my actions, so I guess I’m just going to say fuck it, and say that I love you.”

“The plane is not going to— Wait, what?”

“I, uh. Love you. I’ve known it for a while now. And, uh, I know we’ve only been dating for like, a week, but—” Tony blinks. They’ve only been dating for a week. 

“...Fuck.” Tony can feel his own pulse starting to race. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Tony?”

They’ve only been dating for a week. What is he doing? What the hell is wrong with him? Normal people don’t do this. 

“Fuck. Shit, I mean— Uh, I’m sorry. That was super weird, huh?” Tony laughs nervously. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and cursing his stupid brain. Of course it’s weird. He always gets too attached to people way too quickly. No wonder Pepper was his only long term relationship. She was the only person who could put up with him—everyone else just got weirded out. “Uh, see you tomorrow? Or not. Fuck, sorry, I’m just gonna hang up before this gets—”

“Tony, wait.”

“...Yeah?” Tony says, hyper-aware of how breathless he sounds. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears. Everything is going to be fine. Right? Right. The worst thing Steve could do is… break up with him.

Oh, God, that is the worst case scenario. He really should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut. 

“Tony, are you freaking out? I feel like I can hear you freaking out from all the way over here.”

“No, I’m not, of course I’m not. Who says I’m freaking out? You have no proof. I am calm, I’m calm as a clam, is that the saying? Did I get it right? Or was it happy— Anyway, I am absolutely calm, I’m the calmest I could possibly be. Any calmer and I’d be asleep. I’m—”

“Tony. Breathe.”

Tony forces himself to drag in a slow breath as he grips the arm of his seat with his free hand, focusing on the soothing hum of the airplane’s engine.

“Look, Tony, I—”

“No, listen. I’m sorry I jumped the gun, I hope I haven’t weirded you out or anything. You really, really don’t have to say it back to me. I mean it.”

“Tony—”

“No, in fact— Please don’t say anything. It’s fine. Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay?”

“But—”

“Drop it, Steve. Please?” Tony pleads. Clearly, his brain hadn’t been firing on all cylinders. That is the only reason that could explain his temporary lapse of judgment. “Look, I feel like talking about it more right now is going to send me spiraling into a panic attack.”

“...Okay. Fine.”

“Thank you. Uh, I’ll see you when I get home. If I get home. If the plane doesn’t crash. Haha.”

“Would you please stop saying that? It’s not funny.”

Tony latches onto the change in topic like a lifeline. “It is objectively true, you know. In order for me to be able to see you tomorrow, the plane has to land safely, and unfortunately, some things are just beyond my control. Like, who’s to say the plane won’t explode mid-air and—”

“The plane is going to land safely and you’re going to come back home to me in one piece. This is non-negotiable, Tony. You hear me?” Steve demands, his voice all hard authority and no-nonsense, like there will be Consequences should Tony fail to comply. 

As if he could ensure Tony’s safety with the force of his willpower alone. 

Come back home to me. 

That sounds good. Really good. Tony closes his eyes and pictures Steve’s baby blues in his mind’s eye. Warmth flowers in his chest.

“I hear you.”

“Great.”

“Awesome. I, uh, I gotta go now.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Tony hangs up and lets Paul know that he is done with his phone call. The jittery feeling left over from his call with Steve refuses to leave him, however, so he pulls up the drawing application on his phone and begins sketching something just to give his brain something else to fixate on.

He tends to lose track of time when he is hyperfocused on a project, so he isn’t exactly surprised that the next time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the plane is already well up in the air, his sketch of what looks like a flying coffee pot is almost finished, and Robbie is placing a plate of spaghetti carbonara on the table in front of him. 

“Spaghetti carbonara. With extra cheese.”

Tony’s mouth waters as he eyes the mountain of grated Pecorino Romano sitting atop the pasta. He sighs dreamily and smiles up at Robbie.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Enjoy, Boss.” Robbie grins and slips back into the kitchen.

He only realizes just how truly famished he is after taking his first bite, and proceeds to finish the rest of his meal with gusto. Afterward, he spends the majority of the remaining flight time sleeping, the result of post-carbonara food coma and his sleep-deprivation finally catching up to him. 

It’s well past two in the morning when Tony finally makes it to his floor in the Tower, which is why he is surprised to see Steve sitting on his couch, one of Tony’s fantasy novels open in hand. 

“Steve, what are you doing here?”

Steve’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Tony frowns. “Actually, why are you awake at all?” He is usually an early sleeper, unless—

“Nightmare?” Tony gives him a sympathetic smile. It wouldn’t be the first time. In the early days of their friendship, Tony and Steve would sit together in the living room whenever they had trouble sleeping, talking to each other until the sun came up.

Steve shakes his head, closing the book with his eyes still trained on Tony. “No, I was just… waiting for you.” Tony blinks. 

“It’s…” Tony glances at his watch. “Half past two. In the morning.”

“I know, I just…” Steve stands up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He ambles over before coming to a stop right in front of Tony. “I wanted to see you.”

Tony stares at him uncomprehendingly. “You’ll see me later anyway.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t want to go to sleep without seeing you first,” Steve says, low and earnest. His gaze wanders around Tony’s face, as if he were cataloguing each and every facial feature and trying to locate any changes he might’ve missed during his absence.

“Oh.”

Steve steps closer, arms snaking around Tony’s waist and pulling him close. His next words are whispered against Tony’s shoulder.

“I knew you’d make it home safely.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You were wrong.”

“I was… wrong.” Tony swallows. “Uh, turns out the bad feeling completely disappeared after I woke up from my nap on the plane, so I suspect that perhaps the bad feeling I got was due to my severe hunger and sleep deprivation. I mean, I’ve heard about hallucinations caused by hunger or exhaustion, but this was—” 

Steve presses a soft kiss to the column of Tony’s neck, effectively cutting off Tony’s ramblings.

“Tony,” Steve whispers against his skin.

“Yeah?” Tony squeaks.

“Please don’t call me before a flight and say that you think the plane is going to crash, ever again.”

“Right. Noted. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Steve says, pulling away slightly and loosening his hold around Tony.

Tony allows himself to relax, letting out a quiet sigh. This thing with Steve is so new and delicate that every single physical contact still sends his heart fluttering, butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

Which makes, in retrospect, his abrupt love confession—as truthful as it was—that much more insane. God, Stark. Never do that again.

Except, it turns out that Steve only pulled away to slide his hands down the back of Tony’s thighs, wrapping his hands around them, and then lifting him up without warning.

Tony yelps, and in his alarm, promptly locks his ankles around Steve’s waist. When Steve begins moving, Tony quickly wraps his arms around Steve, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“Uh, Steve?”

“Hm?” Steve says, calm and nonchalant, as he begins walking away from the elevator. 

“Um— Wait— My suitcase—”

“Leave it. It’ll still be there in the morning.”

Tony blinks, staring dumbfoundedly at his lonely suitcase, abandoned by the elevator. It becomes smaller and smaller with every step Steve takes. 

“Where are we going?”

“Your bedroom.”

“Why are you carrying me there?”

“Because I want to.”

“You know it’ll be faster if you just let me walk, right?”

“Maybe. But you won’t be in my arms.”

“Um.”

“Bear with me, will you? I missed you.”

“I, uh, missed you too.”

Steve hums, satisfied. Tony lets himself settle more comfortably in Steve’s arms.

When Steve has successfully carried him to his bedroom, Tony fully expects Steve to deposit him on the bed. 

That is not, in fact, what happens. 

Instead, Steve turns around and begins walking backwards towards the bed before sitting down on it. Tony, still seated on his lap, swallows and pulls back slightly to look at Steve. 

“Look, Steve, as much as I’ve missed you, I’m kind of tired right now. I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole carrying thing? Great. Very romantic. Ten out of ten. But I’m just not in the mood for sex, you know? Like, I’m not even sure I would be able to get it up if—”

“We’re not going to have sex.”

Tony blinks.

“We’re not?”

“We’re not. I’m just here to tuck you in.”

“Oh.”

Steve reaches up and begins undoing his tie. After setting it aside on the bed, he begins to unbutton Tony’s shirt. He takes his time, one button at a time.

“So…” Steve begins with a deep breath as he unbuttons the final button. “Did you mean, uh, what you said to me? On the phone?”

Tony closes his eyes, feels his own cheeks heating up. “Steve—”

“I’m sorry, Tony, I know you told me to drop it. But— I feel like if you did mean what you said, I owe it to you to… set the records straight.” When Tony opens his eyes again, Steve is looking up at him, blue eyes solemn.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… We have only been together for a week. Well, eight days. In fact, we’ve only been on one date. And it was interrupted. By giant lizards.” Steve chuckles incredulously. 

Tony remembers that day very well. They were in the middle of dessert at Tony’s favorite Italian place when they received the call to assemble—something about giant lizards wreaking havoc in Central Park.

The lizards had green, gunky blood that got into the nooks and crannies of the suit. It had taken forever to clean.

“But Tony…” Steve gathers the material of Tony’s unbuttoned shirt in both of his fists, pulling him closer until their noses are only inches apart.

The second their eyes meet, Steve smiles the sweet, lopsided smile that never fails to make Tony’s stomach flip.

“I need you to know that… I didn’t have to date you to know that I loved you. I figured that a long time ago.”

Tony stills, breath frozen in his lungs.

“I guess, what I’m saying is… I love you too. I’ve loved you for a very long time, Tony. Even way before—” Steve breaks eye contact, looks down as he clears his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is tight. “Way before we got together. I’m talking… years before.”

Tony still finds it hard to breathe. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, the word more breath than sound. He meets Tony’s dazed gaze. “So you don’t have to worry about… jumping the gun. Not with me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“...Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels a lightness growing inside of him, spreading outwards to his extremities.

“Good.” Steve smiles, warm and impossibly fond.

“...Glad we’re on the same page.” Tony’s gaze drops down to Steve’s lips.

“We are.” Steve inches closer, nose brushing Tony’s. He then tilts his head ever so slightly and takes Tony’s lower lip between his, kissing him so tenderly Tony’s heart feels like it’s about to burst with it.

Steve’s warm hands slide up Tony’s naked back under his open shirt, sending goosebumps breaking across his skin. Tony buries his hands in Steve’s hair and relishes the feeling of the soft strands caught between his fingers. They stay caught up in each other for a few moments, capturing and releasing each other’s lips until the need for breath becomes too unbearable.

They break apart eventually, accompanied by soft chuckles. Steve smiles up at him, lips slick and cherry red, courtesy of Tony. He reaches up to caress Tony’s right eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, fleeting and affectionate.

“Get some rest, okay? You must be really tired. I should probably go to bed, too.”

Tony looks down at his lap, clearing his throat. “Uh, I know that we haven’t done this before, but…”

Steve waits patiently for Tony to gather his thoughts, hands stroking up and down Tony’s sides.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Tony finds the courage to meet Steve’s eyes, holding his breath.

Steve’s blue eyes are gazing at him intently, looking at him like he’s the only person in the world worth his sole, undivided attention.

Tony swallows. “No sex. Just to sleep. If you—”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels his own lips slowly curve up into a smile, wide and unbridled. 

“Good.” Steve nods, lips twitching, his eyes never leaving Tony’s. 

Tony grins, feeling near giddy with delight. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“We are, sweetheart.” Steve looks up at him, blue eyes fond and smile radiant. “We definitely are.”

[sazzafraz]

ects snippet one

I don’t see this bit changing a lot so its spoiler freeeeeee

He thinks of acid and bile first. His tongue is on the points of his teeth searching for the stale carrot taste. Dead bodies in a lake almost make him hungry. Like soup, Kyuubi says, now, should add some salt. Naruto thinks of their families and draws from Konoha shinobi standard what he should do next. The Uchiha graves are the only ones he’s seen up close. Found and burned away by his Sasuke years ago, not yet warded against yin spirits. Those small piles had been lumped together too close to the houses at first and then reburied in a Konoha approved location when Sasuke became Konoha’s only Private Citizen. Now they’re done by matrilineal lines and decorated with Uzumaki shells and ribbons from Lightning. When Naruto was asked, allowed, to come Sasuke had him press strawberry seedlings into the ground. Sasuke had been messily eating from a different bowl and had pulp smeared across his mouth and jaw. Then, Naruto had wondered if he was allowed to sweep them away with his tongue, if people did that sort of thing in graveyards. Now Naruto knows that the dead do not appreciate love or lust.

People soup. Naruto counts twice and draws a grid on the shallow shore with his foot. 

Monkey Leader is inattentive to Naruto’s actions. He sits between them and their merchants keeping his gaze on the horses. Only one of them likes Naruto. A chestnut mare with a band of white around her mouth and eyes that make her seem mean -she’s downplaying exactly how vicious she is, but she likes him, and that's more than he was expecting. Naruto pulls the body into the grid and starts with the teeth. Pulls back molars for the guys in T&I. The skin sloughs off the dead man's face, puddles down into his wet clothes. Naruto burns it off with Kyuubi’s power, excellent as always for getting rid of evidence. Molars should be enough.

He has a sort of frustrated passion about this. See, Naruto knows intellectually that this has to be done, is done regardless, because you can’t have dead bodies in waterways. They bloat and rot and make people sick. The kind of sick that people like Giri come to fix and then leverage into destabilising the entirety of the Elemental Nations. Naruto also knows that a missing tooth is a decent price for the families of these poor dead to get closure. The third, worst thing Naruto knows is that things come to see dead bodies, things like him. Ninja like him. Spirits like him. Sons of Oceans and Mountains and tall white pillars to the underworld, like him. None of them, really, should be looking at these dead bodies. 

Six teeth. Naruto eyes a leaf moving out of sequence with the wind. Tanuki, an earth specialist.  Tanuki nods and quiet as a mouse the bodies sink into the shore.

--

Sunagakure welcomes them and their trophies at dawn. They sneak in over the sand tide-line two to a row before even the most thrifty merchant has set their wares. Gaara’s office will not be officially open for another three hours, not even his Twilight Guard will accept a visitor now. So Naruto does what he does, cracks his back and makes a loud exclamation about finding a place to sleep. Monkey Leader sets them on a course through Suna’s cruisy districts and around the intelligence quarter. The Konoha away barracks are part of their recent trade deal. A cushy thing on their end and Naruto knows where his room is. After the Summit, before the War, Naruto quietly moved all the things he previously left in Gaara’s spare bedroom to a Jounin room with an ensuite. This room is at the end of the hall with no windows, nothing in or out. A dead end. Monkey Leader espys him but does not comment. 

In the room Naruto turns off the radio left playing on the dresser. His old book lies with its spine cracked, a pair of pants he left to wash last time crumpled on the bed. His single pillow looks lonely. Someone has been in since he was here last, the footprints in the thick carpet aren’t his own. Following this probably-not-a-stranger he sees that his personals have been restocked in the bathroom, laid on the rim of the strange standing bathtub. The grates have been cleaned. Naruto runs a bath and dumps a satchel with Sakura’s clean, neat writing into the water. A small bag sits next to it and he recalls a short conversation at dinner some nights ago. Sasuke and Kakashi had been having one of their weird bonding moments over Naka rocks. Kakashi would run his bandaged fingers over them looking for some indefinable flaw. Sasuke would say that’s not the point and hand him another. He and Sakura watch this for a few minutes, giggling into their beers. Sakura had just shaved her hair down again and the elfin lines of her face were so perfect he’d had trouble not telling her so. 

“Naruto,” Sasuke says in his low clear voice, “what are you thinking about?”

“Sakura’s pretty,” he blurts out. Sakura lowers her eyelashes for a moment, laughing.

“Yes.” Sasuke agrees. “But what are you thinking?”

“‘Bout rocks?” Naruto shifts his gaze carefully. He’s bowled over often by how much he loves looking at Sasuke. If he does it too fast the soft pink of his mouth and thin scar that meets his ear makes him drool. “Dunno, that one.” He picks one from the pile and holds it triumphant.

“Idiot,” Sakura says. She too picks a rock. “Momentos? Right?” 

Sasuke flushes from his heart upwards, making the pink of his lips plush. Sakura keeps her rock, eventually Kakashi meets his proteges standards and departs with his own. Naruto pockets his but forgets it in the wash. Here it is again in Sunagakure with Sasuke’s hair ribbon around it. 

In reality Naruto does not now nor has he ever had momentos. He has moments and memories aplenty. Long, too long sketches of Konoha night in the main thoroughfare in the early morning. The drift and drag of everyone's footsteps lying in the dirt, on the street, leading to the houses they share with people that want them there. Swing sets. Shrine steps. Stoops. All of them empty, at least when he’s there. A city is a lonely place in his experience. 

Things are better now. He has Sasuke, when they aren’t fighting. Sakura, when she’s capable of acting without compromise. Kakashi, when he isn’t fighting a cold war alone. His other friends, when time allows. Allowance is better too. Assured at the very least. 

Compromise is a word he knows now. A strange little door into the way life actually works. 

See, Naruto’s first idea of how things work is formed at 4pm, 2am on weekdays and 7-11am on Saturdays. There’s a little alcove outside one of the curving windows of Konoha’s Library, high above the main hall near one of the old study nooks not even ANBU use. On rainy days the water sloshes off the side. On sunny days the heat only touches the edges. There is enough room for a boy to escape with a little apple and the free water from the front desk. The window is permanently cracked open to let out the musty air. When Konoha’s long hot days and nights were too much for even the most dogged badgering Naruto would skin himself raw heaving his body into it. A radio plays all day in the library, old records and ads for toilet paper. Like everyone else Naruto drowns out the patriot tunes and concentrates on the old radio head that chooses which stories play at the end of the school day. Hashirama and the Seven Headed Snake, Subaru and the Stolen Sword, Himawari Sunrise, Nariko Ascending. He’s heard them all at some point, drifted away to the tales of heroes and Hokages. 

Naruto’s met Hashirama now and he’s a whole different deal. Tsunade makes more sense when you know that that was her first idea of a hero. 

In The Seven Headed Snake Hashirama does not speak. He does wield a sword of redwood through the thick neck of a serpent so big it blots the sky. His heroism is in his quiet dutiful battle. The way the man telling the story describes his strong back and long hair. That’s your back, he says. That’s Konoha’s back. It sounds so absurd, even to a child training to be a ninja: cut through the sky, mold the earth, call forth life to do your bidding alone. The snake’s carcass, the narrator informs them, is as long as the Naka river, and buried somewhere near the big swell the Uchiha worship. On dark nights its eyes watch the village, warily, for Hashirama’s redwoods stand sentinel. Not even in death can he be escaped. 

People don’t let things like Naruto in their houses. This he knows before he can speak. There is something in him people don't want on their doorsteps. Later he knows it's the Kyuubi. After that he knows that it’s the Uzamaki blood. Even later, when he came home from a war that crushed out the light he thought he could carry anywhere, he knew it was simple mortal fear. Something inside Naruto will never die, and anything more mortal than him knows that. Well, except Sasuke. 

In the warm bath water he caresses his leg, not letting it go any further. Far from home he misses his love. There’s an edge in Naruto, sharp as his chipped tooth, that’s only soothed by long dark hair and a softening body. Naruto leans up to look at the scents and staples Gaara’s left in his room. Sweet aloe and greens. Salt and fresh made sand. He thinks of Sasuke’s skin and Sasuke’s soft smile and how he cuddles close to warmth. Naruto’s had grim reason to be grateful for how hot he runs, this last winter when Sasuke’s feud with their electricity provider cut their power mid cold-snap he’s had happier, hornier reasons to be joyful.

Sasuke has a vicious glee about domesticity that is deeply adorable. He loves arguing with the cashier about his coupons and going to PTA meetings and making trendy sandwiches. He does it with a soft violence that Naruto absolutely does not relate to but finds charming. Never has a man wanted for mass murder been so invested in a collect-a-coin newspaper competition. He plays music and cooks food. He goes to town halls and puts up with the mean crooked smile in their fruit vendors eyes. Naruto loves him so much when he makes noise. Naruto loves him more when it’s quiet at home. Naruto loves when Sasuke will talk to him about things he cares for: plants, dumplings, people. Here, far away from his love, Naruto loves that he doesn’t have to lie to him.  

Naruto drags his hand up to his stomach and uncorks the bath. The soft slush of water is the last noise in the room.

[papergirllife]

The Story Of You And I

Lee Taeyong ( One shot - Part 2 )

Warnings : Angst, smut, slow burn.

Your outfit for the night is a strapless blue dress in the shade of a night sky and a white Chanel coat to top it off.

When you got to the party, everyone was already drunk off their butts. So much for the thank you speech you wrote. But it was nice to see the people who worked for you being happy.

Your mother always believed that a company's success heavily depends on the attitude of the staffs.

As you were peacefully sitting on the plush cushions sipping on a whiskey, someone crashed down onto one of the chairs near you, Taeyong.

" You again? "

He cocked an eyebrow and showed you his phone.

" Looking for this? "

It was a selfie of him, with your sketch book. Dumb luck of yours never fades, doesn't it?

" Give it back. "

" Come and take it yourself. "

" Where is it? "

" My place. I'll take you there. "

Before I could decide whether to say yes or no, he took my hand and dragged me to his car outside. Another Maserati, boring.

During the car ride, I refused to look at him at all. Turning my head to see the beautiful streets of Seoul instead.

Why did I even agree to leave with him? Stupid me and my stupid sketch book.

When we reached, I exited the car to see that we were in UN Village area. I followed him to his condominium, really high class, as expected of a son of Lee Holdings.

His unit was the penthouse. He even had his private lift. Jesus. When I stepped in, I was taken aback by the elegance and a mixture of modern living of the house.

" Remember you said you wanted to live in a penthouse with me? "

Taeyong's voice was suddenly empty of his usual taunting tone. He sounded somewhat tired, and longing. You can't be fooled again, you reminded yourself.

" Those were dreams of a 17 year old teenager. How serious can you be at that age, especially coming from you. "

" Look Y/N, I'm really sorry for all that I have done, these past two years I've been regretting my actions and...

" Stop Taeyong. I'm sorry, we can't, I can't. I don't want to end up alone and regretful of my actions even in my twenties. Just tell me where's my sketch book then I'll leave. "

He hung his head low, but pointed at the coffee table in the living room. You took the book and started making your way to the exit.

Suddenly, Taeyong grabbed your arm and spinned you towards him to lock you in his embrace.

" Don't go, please. "

You were stunned not only by his words, but also by the warmth radiating off him, reminding you of the old days the both of you cuddled every chance the both of you gotten.

" How do I know I can trust you? That you'll stay ? That you'll only have eyes for me? "

He dragged you to his room and into his large walk in closet. He walked to the corner of the room and slid open the door of the cupboard.

At first you didn't realize anything different from the clothes at other cupboards and this one. Until you saw your own designs, most of them were sweaters, knitwear, and scarves that you've designed over the years.

After Taeyong saw the realisation in your eyes, he pulled out a drawer at the bottom. It only contained a few articles of clothing. He pulled out a yellow knitted sweater and handed it to you, you observed the corner of the sweater and saw the words I'll always love you xoxo sewn by you back when you made this for him.

" I kept this since you gave it to me. I didn't throw away the things you made me, I just left them at my parent's house. I retrieved them about two years ago. My mom kept them in a good condition, washing them occasionally. She seemed to know. "

" Know what? " You asked in a shaky voice.

" That my heart will always belong to you. "

You didn't know who initiated it, but the next thing you knew was that you were kissing him. Lee Taeyong, your ex.

Everything was sweet and steady at first. Until the both of you got too excited, like a wolf being denied of meat for long periods of time.

Taeyong. That's all your mind could think. Closer, closer. Quicker. You were kissing him like you wanted to devour his lips, you realised that his lips gotten poutyer over the years.

You were taking off his jacket as he was leading you to his bed. Your Chanel jacket was on his floor when you crashed on his bed.

You took a good look at him when he was situated above you. His cheeks were crimson, his lips were swollen from all the biting and sucking you did. Hair all over the place.

His hands started to wander around your body when you kissed his neck, you went back to his sensitive spot that you found back in 17. It was still the same spot that got him making those melodic sounds.

When he got to the bottom of your dress he paused.

" Can I? "

" Yeah. But I want to see you first. "

You proceeded to take off his shirt while he worked on pulling off your dress from the hem. He definitely has been working out a lot you thought, as you checked him out silently.

The both of you continued making out while more and more layers were peeled of from your bodies.

He took one of your nipples in his lips to bite and suck, while the other one he rolled it in between the pads of his fingers, pinching it slightly.

After working on your nipples for a few minutes, he started kissing down your stomach and traced his fingers to your thighs.

One of his hands travelled behind your body to give your butt a squeeze. While the other hand worked on making circles on your clit.

The hand that was at your butt went to your front. He thrusted in one of his fingers suddenly, making you gasp in alarm. Taeyong suddenly looked up, worried eyes scanning your face.

" I'm sorry. Did it hurt? Should I stop? "

" No I was just surprised, keep going. "

He entered one more finger inside you, then another one. You felt like you could just cum from his fingers alone, you haven't had time to get laid lately, and your fingers weren't as long, it felt like it has been forever since the last time you felt this good.

He suddenly stopped his ministrations. You whined from the sudden lack of contact.

" Shh baby patience. I need to find a condom. "

So you kept quiet and waited for him obediently. When he found it, he quickly ripped the foil apart and gave himself a few pumps before putting on the condom.

After he adjusted himself, he hooked both his arms under your legs to drag you closer to him.

He coated his cock in your juices and entered you in one swift thrust. The sting was evident, but you had it coming from the lack of getting laid these days.

He waited for you to adjust to his length. While doing so his hands touched your face and gave you light kisses on your cheeks, nose and forehead.

" Move. I'm ready. "

He started moving at a slow pace, only thrusting in shallowly. That is until you told him to go faster.

He started thrusting deeper, and faster to satisfy both of your hunger towards the orgasm.

He started thrusting at a deeper angle that got you moaning louder and seeing stars. When he realised it, he hooked one of your legs to his waist to thrust from a higher angle.

This new position had him hitting your sweet spot at every thrust. You started clawing your nails at his arm. One of his hands started pinching one of your nipples harshly, further stimulating your body.

" Yong ah. I-I'm close. "

" Cum for me baby. " He said while giving your clit a pinch.

You felt like you exploded, the twisting of your lower abdomen gone. Your high hitting you harshly, making you see white.

As you came, your walls started contracting and squeezing Taeyong, milking his orgasm. He bit at your neck when he came, marking you as his.

When he was done, he pulled out and dumped the condom in a nearby trash bin.

Then he climbed in bed and pulled the blanket over your bodies, snuggling close to you, just like the old days.

" Taeyong, did you mean everything you said back there? " You whispered, fearing he was already asleep.

" Yes. I love you. "

You were shocked, you didn't know whether to say it back to him or not. Wasn't it a little too soon?

" You don't have to say it back to me yet. But I'll prove to you how much I love you with the time we're going to spend together. Then you can say it back. But for now let's just go to sleep baby. I'm really tired. "

" Okay. Goodnight. "

" Goodnight. " He mumbled into your hair.

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, fearing that you'll run away from him.

Maybe this relationship will work out after all, you thought to yourself.

Instead of giving a chance for the tabloids to have the upper hand, you posted a photo of you and Taeyong having breakfast before the papers rolled out with the caption,

A beautiful Sunday morning.

[readyplayerhobi]

Peppermint | 01

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future light angst

; Word Count: 10.6k

; Synopsis: Achieving your dream job is something that very people manage to do, which is why you’re all the more happier when you land a job on the film team at Poppin’ Culture; the biggest pop culture website, blog and YouTube channel around. What you don’t expect however, is to fall for the exceptionally shy and awkward colleague who is not even remotely your type. Or is he?

; A/N: This is just what I’ve been writing to try and get back into the swing of things. It’s just...light and fun. Was supposed to be a one shot but it’s getting long and it feels like a good place to end as a first part! Please send me thoughts, comments and encouragements as it’s a struggle to write lately ;-;

01 ; 02

-

“And this is our main office. It’s open plan, as you can see so I hope that doesn’t bother you too much. We’ve found it works better to just throw ideas out in the open or to just get reactions so feel free to shout out if you need something. Everyone’s very friendly,” Seokjin smiles at you brightly, his thick lips turning up and making his eyes sparkle behind his glasses as he leads you into the wide open space. “And this is your desk. Feel free to decorate it however you want. Nothing will beat the car wreck that’s happening on Jimin’s desk.”

“Hey! This is artistic mess. Everything has a place and there is a place for everything.” The bubblegum pink haired man in question half stands, a finger pointing threateningly while his pearly white teeth peek out from beneath plush pink lips. You can’t help but smile, as his slim frame and cute cheeks make him look distinctively non-threatening and ruin any hope he has of convincing you otherwise.

It could also be the fact he looks like a hipster from Seattle with the thick, black plastic frames delicately placed on his nose and the retro 80s film shirt with an open black and white plaid shirt over the top. Still...he’s rather pretty and you wonder momentarily if you’ve somehow entered another dimension with astonishingly beautiful people.

Either that, or you’ve walked into the set of some reality TV show but you’re not quite willing to break the Matrix programming just yet.

Seokjin snorts and rolls his eyes, lifting a ring laden hand to brush his black hair out of them. It’s hindered slightly by the tan beanie on his head and you’re momentarily distracted once more by his impressive frame. The white shirt with the Jaws film poster on it stretches rather enticingly over his broad shoulders while his black, ripped jeans are snugly secured with a leather belt that has a Superman belt buckle.

Honestly, how were you meant to work in this place?

He’d already introduced you to Namjoon, the creator of Poppin’ Culture who oversaw all aspects of his slowly booming media empire along with Namjoon’s wife, Chaeyoung. She oversaw the HR aspect of everything and had been your first point of call before Seokjin had come down to retrieve you upon getting the call that you had arrived.

Seokjin is the editor of the Poppin’ Culture website, which is the big daddy of the whole enterprise. It had originally started 10 years ago in Namjoon’s university bedroom apparently, just posting reviews of retro films and any new films that came out.

A decade later and it was the biggest source of pop culture news, blogs and entertainment in the Western hemisphere. The website scores over 250,000 hits a day with the blogs averaging a pretty healthy number too and the YouTube channels generating a steady enough income to keep a small team afloat with ease.

His sheer love of all things cultural meant that Poppin’ Culture had expanded far beyond its original remit of film and now had something for everyone. There was the film blog, the gaming blog, the music blog, the television blog and even the book blog. And you’d heard rumours of them branching into sports with talk of a fighting blog and channel appearing soon which would be interesting.

Sports were a whole other thing in the world of things people obsess over.

Either way, you’d been rather desperate to get a job here when the opening had appeared on the job listings website for a new in house content writer. When you’d found out that you’d got it, you were pretty sure that you’d almost deafened Sunmi with your screams of excitement.

As a film major with an English literature minor, it was perhaps the dream job to combine both of your loves together and work with people who were just as enthusiastic about the world of film as you were. Your friends and family had long since grown bored of how you picked apart the latest films or their trailers, but now you would have an audience of thousands that would not only be receptive to it, but interested too.

In your earlier meeting with Namjoon and Seokjin, they’d laid out your responsibilities for you pretty clearly. Given that you were in your six month probation period, you would be expected to create two blog articles a week with the possibility of writing a video script if it was approved by the video team.

Two articles may not sound a lot, but you’d already been informed that you would also likely have to do some indepth research into the topics to provide factual information, along with making sure it wasn’t something that had been done before. Not only this, but you would be expected to be constantly scouring the internet to find new topics of interest and trying to catch the latest leaks before they even happened.

While you’d been hired for the film team, you’d been told that most people tended to dip into other areas to help out or if they had some particular interest in it. As such, you could be expected to possibly be asked to find out the Top 10 Facts About The NES or 15 Things You Never Knew About Taylor Swift or something.

Wasn’t the most scintillating of things to you, but you were willing to branch out and help if necessary. It was a small team and you understand that sometimes you’d need to pitch in when it was required of you, which in turn meant you knew that you could rely on the same help.

“Jimin is our music guy. He’s the one who usually writes the music blogs and videos but he also does the gaming stuff sometimes. Also has a regular book blog where he reviews obscure international books because that’s his thing.” Seokjin says, rolling his eyes as he leans against the desk.

Jimin’s desk is littered with piles of CD cases - who even uses CDs anymore? - along with three different pairs of headphones. He also has a ton of Funko Pop! Vinyl figures that you recognise to be musicians along with a set of Assassin’s Creed characters. You recognise them because Sunmi’s ex-boyfriend had them too.

“Really? You’re going to come into my space, and ruin my time while insulting me? Am I going to wake up tomorrow morning to find you shitting on my lawn too?” Jimin slumps back in his chair, pulling a pair of pink and white headphones over his head to rest around his neck while eyeing the taller man with narrowed eyes.

“You live on the top floor of an apartment building ‘Min. What am I? A wizard?”

“I wish. Maybe you’d wingardium leviosa your ass off my damn desk.” He grumbles, nodding his head at you. “Have you ever read In The Miso Soup by Ryu Murakami?”

The question is so sudden that you’re left standing with wide eyes, shaking your head slowly. You’d not read a lot of translated work in college, though you were hoping to change that. Jimin sighs and slumps in his seat, clicking on his mouse a few times.

“Fucking weird dude. Still not entirely sure what went on it.”

Before you can even respond, Seokjin is leading you over to the desk behind Jimin. This desk is even messier, only you really can see the artistic mess here. It’s covered in pencil sketches that are stacked haphazardly while a high tech looking electronic drawing pad takes up most of the space with even the keyboard pushed away.

The guy sat comfortably in the green and black gaming chair has a black beanie on his head too, only he has platinum blonde hair that covers his eyes. And what pretty eyes they are when he looks up at you; as if someone has reached up into the sky and plucked two of the brightest, shiniest stars and placed them directly onto him.

“Oh, hey. I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. I’m the graphic designer here...with a side passion of actual drawing obviously. I mostly use Photoshop but I like to get a bit hands on.” He talks rapidly, his voice quite deep but soft. Pausing, he bites on the black lip ring embedded in the right side of his lower lip before sitting back.

The vibrant and colourful tattoos that run up and down his arms do nothing to hide the obvious fit physique he has and you find yourself dragging your eyes away from that ridiculously broad chest. He’s only wearing a black shirt but my god.

Seokjin lets you both talk for a little, discovering that if you need anything made graphics wise then to let Jungkook know. Apparently he’s the head designer and has two more people under him; Jennie who deals with a lot of designing and Soyeon who handles their website and online shop.

You’re then introduced to Yoongi who is in charge of sound for the videos. He’s pretty quiet but friendly and bright, secluded away in the corner of the office with a soundboard in front of him, while his co-worker Lisa, a video editor, is entirely the opposite. They’re both sat on the same bank of desks, and the difference between Yoongi’s monochromatic desk and Lisa’s bubblegum pop explosion is almost amusing.

The video game team was made of Miyeon, Yugyeom and Baekhyun who all took up the corner on the opposite end of the office to you. You weren’t a huge gamer, but apparently the video game side of Poppin’ Culture was one of the most popular and profitable so you could understand why they had the largest team compared to the others.

Your desk is opposite Jimin’s, allowing you a view of him if you look to your right and it looks sparse compared to everyone else’s. The guy behind you is Taehyung and you’re pleased to discover that he’s friendly and warm with a bright box smile that makes you feel at home instantly.

Taehyung is the other content creator on the film team and someone that you’ll be working closely with, though apparently he also works with Jimin on music. From the short conversation you have with him, it seems that Taehyung mainly specialises in foreign film and you surmise that you’ll be left with most of the more mainstream options with the Oscar bait films being split between you both.

He seems enigmatic enough, with the white ribbon wrapped around his neck and billowing white button up shirt that ends with a pair of baggy, tan trousers. He’s not wearing any shoes, or socks, and you wonder if that’s a violation of something somewhere but no one seems to be saying anything.

His entire desk is full of various plants, artistic photographs in elegant frames and beautiful old film posters in miniature form. A photo of a black and tan Pomeranian is eagerly introduced to you as Yeontan, his dog and you can’t help but laugh at how excited he is to show off his lil pup.

But perhaps not as excited as you when you discover that Friday’s are ‘Bring Your Dog To Work’ day. Apparently Taehyung, Yoongi and Jennie all bring their dogs and it usually ends up just being people playing with them.

Yep, definitely the best workplace already.

“Hey Hoseok, come here before you sit down.” Seokjin calls out to the late entry into the office before looking at you. “I’ll introduce you to our head video editor. He’s the one who usually helps with recording videos, then he’ll edit it all together. He works closely with Jungkook for graphics and if you write a script then he’ll work with you to see if you want anything extra added in like humourous cuts, edits and so forth. He’s got Lisa on his team and a guy who works part time, Taemin.”

The man in question almost shuffles forward, a delicate looking hand gripping the brown fabric strap of his shoulder bag tightly while he looks down at his scruffy, black Converse clad feet as Seokjin introduces you to him. He looks about the same height as Seokjin, though all you can see is a head of messy chestnut brown hair and black circular lens glasses that looks like they’re going to fall off his nose.

“Nice shirt.” You say with an encouraging smile, wondering why Hoseok looks like he’s trying to crawl through the floor mentally. He looks up at that with almost shockingly wide eyes and you almost groan out loud.

This place is blessed or cursed. You’re not sure which yet.

He’s wearing a faded Jurassic Park shirt, the famous logo sliced by ‘dinosaur’ claws, while a pair of ever so slightly baggy and ripped denim jeans are kept up by an oversized tan fabric belt, the end trailing down to his knee. A knit grey cardigan covers his arms and you find it oddly endearing how it’s slipping off one slim shoulder, obviously far too big for him.

The shoulder bag he’s carrying also has the Back to the Future logo on it and you point at it with a grin. “Great Scott! I like your bag too.” You point then at your own chest, your shirt emblazoned with the Back to the Future logo and frown as his eyes dart down before his cheeks flush bright red.

His obvious shyness just seems to make him more endearing to you, and you let out a quiet laugh. There’s an almost awkward silence for a moment as Hoseok just stands there, giving Seokjin tiny glances before he finally sighs and points to the desk behind yours. Hoseok almost bolts there, disappearing behind the iMac and you look back at Seokjin with a raised brow.

He kneels down so he’s closer, the music of the radio that’s blasting out 80s classics drowning out anything he might say to you. “Hoseok’s a good guy, he’s just a little socially awkward. A hard worker, and he’ll do anything you ask but...it’s a little hard to get him to open up. Keep trying though, he will occasionally have a full conversation with you and I keep trying to make sure he’s included so he doesn’t feel left out. Don’t take it personally, it’s just how he is.”

Nodding, you turn on your own iMac and wait for it to boot up before going through the process of getting everything ready for you to work. Given it’s your first day, Seokjin just gives you some simple tasks to go through to help familiarise yourself with their method of working before leaving you to your own devices.

It’s as you’re sat reading through the style guideline for the blog that you watch as Hoseok suddenly appears in the corner of your vision. He’s rolled over to the edge of his desk, hands flipping through the stacked letter tray there as he searches for something while he presses his lips together and blows his cheeks out. You can’t help but watch him with idle interest as he does so.

He’s definitely cute, in fact he’s more than cute. Hoseok is actually stunningly beautiful and from the side, you’re getting to see his arresting profile with ease. A strong jawline swoops in bold lines on his face while his nose is a straight slope with the gentlest turn at the end, his lips thin but full enough to look delightfully kissable as he pouts suddenly without thinking as the tiny frown of concentration causes his strong brows to fold in.

As he finds what he needs, you watch as he disappears back behind his screen before sighing quietly to yourself.

It’s probably not very moral, but you definitely had enough new material to keep your spank bank going for a good few months now. If nothing else, you should thank Namjoon for that.

-

“Did you watch Roma yet?” Taehyung asks, rolling his chair backwards until he appears in your vision. His wispy blonde hair lays straight on his forehead as he rests his hands behind his neck, letting his long sleeved blue sweater stretch across his torso. It’s unusually tight for someone who basically lives in baggy clothes; you’re pretty sure he’s even worn his pyjamas once.

Over the last three months of you working at Poppin’ Culture, you’d understandably grown close with Taehyung as you’d bonded intensely over your love of film. It turns out he was also a film major with a photography minor, meaning he was exceptionally invested in the artsy films or just films with great cinematography.

You’d already been subjected to two passion filled rants of his about Mad Max: Fury Road and Blade Runner 2049 as being prime examples of great cinematography in big budget cinema. It was okay though, as you’d already chewed off his ear about why you thought Aliens was one of the best sequels ever made in history and he’d listened with interest.

There was nothing better than someone who was willing to indulge in your long winded talks about your favourite films; from cult classics to obscure favourites to Hollywood blockbusters. Your rapport with him was so good in fact, that Seokjin had had you do a test video with him to see how well you worked in front of the camera.

The results must have been positive as you’d been given a weekly film podcast with Taehyung that talked about the week’s releases along with any news in the film world. If there was time then you both would regale viewers with your favourite films and analyse them.

So far, it was doing pretty well and you were pleased with the numbers it was pulling in. Not to mention that people seemed to like your inclusion into the videos, which was why you’d ended up in a few other videos around music or even gaming just to voice over them. Taehyung had obviously been a hit.

He had a face for the camera and you’d already jokingly suggested in many a team meeting that they should make merchandise with just his face on it. His little fan club even named themselves ‘Taes Baes’.

“No, I haven’t had chance yet. I’ve been watching The Sinner, I’ve only got like two episodes left but I’ll check it out at some point! Alfonso Cuarón makes such good films; Gravity is still amazing and I’m still mind boggled at the sheer complexity of how that must have been to film with all the CGI they had to do but I feel like Roma looks a little more stripped down.”

Taehyung is nodding slowly, biting his lip almost absentmindedly as he listens to you. “Gravity is great, but you should definitely check out Children of Men. Much better, but Y Tu Mamá También is also phenomenal if you don’t mind the sexual scenes. But yeah, watch Roma. Definitely going to be a bit hit with the awards season and I can see him getting Best Director at the Oscars.”

“Really? It wouldn’t surprise me.” You muse, leaning back in your own chair and crossing your legs as you watch him now.

“Yep. And if he does win, then that’ll be his second Best Director win and it will also mean that Mexican directors have won five out of the last six. They’re killing the Oscars game lately. I still wish Barry Jenkins had won for Moonlight...way better than La La Land.” He sighs wistfully before nodding at your computer screen inquisitively, the beginnings of your latest blog post on the screen.

“Oh, I’m writing why I think Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse deserves the Best Animation at the Oscars. I liked The Incredibles and Ralph but if they win over the magnificence of Spider-Man then I will flip this table.” Pointing to your desk jokingly, Taehyung giggles sweetly.

Your desk has also changed over the last few months as well. A few cute Funko figures of your favourite Star Wars characters have popped up along with one or two more stylised figurines like your Xenomorph alien. Along with that, you’ve invested in some funky letter trays and pots to just bring some brightness to portray your personality a little more.

“I’ve not watched it yet. I know, feel free to pinch my arm. Hoseok has watched it though, he mentioned it the other day. Hey Hoseok, come here bro.” He calls out loudly, turning slightly to watch for the quiet man who spends his days on the computer behind yours.

Slowly, and adorably you might add, Hoseok’s meek face peers around the side of both his and your monitors as he stares owlishly at Taehyung beneath those outdated glasses. You’d say they were ugly, and they were, but he seemed to pull them off.

His hair is hidden today beneath a sand coloured beanie, leaving his entire face exposed and you coo softly at his tiny folded ears. It wasn’t something you’d noticed till Jimin had one day pointed over to the video editor, whispering words of adoration to you as he stared a little moon-eyed and lamented how his own ears didn’t look that cute.

It was beyond endearing, along with the slight pout his lips were pursed in. He probably hadn’t been listening to your conversation and so had no idea what was going on.

You’d noticed that Hoseok either kept an earphone in at all times or covered them with over-ear headphones when he wanted to work hard and not be disturbed. He certainly wasn’t rude but he definitely didn’t seem to be hugely confident in making conversations with people.

That didn’t stop people from trying to include him though, and you got the definite sense that everyone in the office adored Jung Hoseok and simultaneously wanted to hug him and protect him. You certainly did, and you were quite pleased that no one bullied him.

He, unfortunately, had the demeanour that would attract the attention of assholes but Seokjin and Namjoon ran a tight ship here. You did kind of wish that he got included in more outside events though.

“S-sorry. W-wh-what?” His voice is soft, the perfect mix of deep and high as he stutters out a response to Taehyung. The long sleeved shirt he’s wearing is almost salmon pink and has some generic looking cartoon on the front. It looks warm, and you find yourself lamenting the fact that you hadn’t brought a cardigan with you today.

“Spider-Man, the new one. You said to Jungkook that you’d watched it right?” There’s a moment of hesitation as Hoseok’s eyes flick to you before he’s nodding slowly. Almost immediately you grin brightly, not noticing the way that Hoseok pauses with his breath caught before his shoulders shift up to his ears.

“Oh my god, wasn’t it so good? The animation is just beautiful, it makes me want to scream. Like those cityscape shots? Could easily be mistaken for a photo if you just showed someone it. And the perfect blending of the different art styles of the Spider-People and god the music was so good. Miles is amazing and if it doesn’t win then I’m gonna Hulk out,” You pause and look at Taehyung who’s smirking in amusement. “Seriously, I don’t even know how to describe the animation. Think 3D...but not. You get me, right Hoseok?”

Hoseok’s eyes go astonishingly wide once more as you question and his mouth opens and closes a few times as he struggles to find an answer for you. He just settles for nodding quickly, reaching up to pull his beanie off and sort out his hair.

The chestnut locks have gone a bit wild under his hat and you have to bite your lip to stop laughing at how it goes all over the place, though another part of you wants to aww at how cute he looks.

“One day Hoseok, one day I’ll get you to spout poetic bullshit about a film you love.” You tease lightly, tapping at your gel wrist rest that lays alongside your keyboard to ease the pressure on your wrists as you type. He swallows audibly, causing you to laugh out loud while Taehyung chuckles and shakes his head.

“Hoseok has fucking terrible film taste. He thinks Batman v Superman was actually good.” Jungkook calls out and you turn to look at the graphic designer. He’s reclining in his chair, hands over his stomach with an ankle hooked over his knee while he observes the scene on the other side of the office.

Jimin is in the exact same position behind him while he nods his head sagely and you gasp in horror, a hand to your chest as you look back at Hoseok. “Say it isn’t so Hoseok.”

The man in question looks like he wants to sink through the floor as he gives a meagre shrug. Your wail of horror has him cringing while everyone else in the office sniggers and Taehyung pats your back in consolation.

“This can’t be. Why? Is it because your mom is named Martha too?” Jungkook lets out a bark of laughter at that while Jimin creases, folding over in his chair as his forehead rests against his knees from the force of his laugh.

Hoseok attempts to speak a few more times before he frowns deeply, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. “N-no. That was d-d-dumb. I just like Batman. I-i-it’s not my favourite f-f-film but it’s not terrible.”

You lean back and stare at him, raising a brow slowly as you narrow at your eyes at him. “What is your favourite film then?”

This is probably the most you’ve talked to Hoseok in the whole three months about non-job related work. You’re actually surprised he’s engaging this far, and you study him closely to make sure he doesn’t look uncomfortable or unhappy. The last thing you want is him to get upset.

But he doesn’t back down from your question, instead staring at something on his desk intently before looking back at you. You almost lean back in reaction, the intensity of his gaze far stronger than you’d expected and you’re surprised to feel a slight stirring of sexual lust for him. While you’d always acknowledge he was handsome - wasn’t everyone in this place? - you’d never quite seen Hoseok in a ‘oh holy cow’ light until right now.

“I-I-I don’t have one. B-b-but I like Jurassic Park and Blade Runner. And the Godfather. Oh, and Big Hero 6.” He adds as an afterthought, and you feel oddly proud that he didn’t stutter throughout the rest of the conversation. It was obviously just a nerves thing, but you kind of hope that he’ll get a bit bolder if you keep trying with him.

“Good choices. Solid. Not pretentious like the avant garde master here. He probably watches his porn in French black and white too.” A casual thumb thrown in Taehyung’s direction gets you the finger in response.

“It’s black and white softcore German, you heathen. No one does the group sex quite as good. The camera angles when there’s so many bodies.” He kisses the tips of his fingers before blowing them in the air, causing you to stare at him with a slightly grossed out face.

Looking at Jimin, you shake your head. “You know, I’ve only known the two of you for three months now. But I can easily see how you started dating. You with your weird music and books and Taehyung with your pretentious films.”

Taehyung gasps theatrically before smiling, fully aware that you’re joking around with him. Jimin on the other hand, snorts loudly and sticks his tongue out at you. “Hey, there’s nothing weird about my music choices. And what the hell. You’ve been listening to Billie Eilish non-stop lately according to your Spotify. And while she’s incredibly talented, I wish she’d lighten up a little.”

Turning to look at the cotton candy haired guy, though his hair was mostly hidden today by a black ball cap, you raise an eyebrow slowly. “Firstly, don’t insult Billie like that! Her songs are beautiful and soothe my soul. And also, this coming from the guy who listens to Morrissey. Unironically, I might add. Your opinion is invalid in this conversation.”

“...You know what. I can't even argue that. You right.” Jimin shrugs in defeat and sits back while Taehyung makes consoling noises at his boyfriend from his seat.

The delicate snort from behind your monitor makes your eyes widen, causing you to shift over slightly to watch Hoseok as he giggles. His white teeth peek out at you as he bites on his lower lip to try and contain his laugh.

And from how pretty and sweet it sounded, you wish he wouldn’t. The soft noises he lets out are oddly infectious, causing you to laugh in turn with a pretty dopey expression on your face and making you completely oblivious to the sly look Jimin and Taehyung are sharing.

“You love Imagine Dragons too, right? Hoseok listens to them all the time.” Taehyung says helpfully, gesturing with his chin towards the man behind your monitor.

Spinning back, you look at Hoseok with a happy grin and clap your hands together excitedly. “Oh my god, yes! I’m in love with Bad Liar right now, and Zero is so fun. I think Jimin keeps laughing at me for dancing in my seat.”

Hoseok doesn’t respond to you properly though, just nodding his head and smiling slightly as you playfully glare at the slim man across the office.

“On the subject of dating though...Hoseok. Have you ever had a girlfriend before? Or boyfriend, if that’s your thing.” Jimin asks, his tone not even slightly sly and you look at him in surprise. If he was trying to not be obvious, then he was being about as subtle as the Seattle Space Needle. Surely they’d already know this right?

As far as you’ve gathered, Jimin has been at Poppin’ Culture for four years and Taehyung for three. The two had started dating two years ago and despite your teasing, you were already confident that they were two of the cutest couples you’d ever seen.

Hoseok though, had apparently been with the company for years. He’d gone to college with Namjoon, Chaeyoung and Seokjin and had a film production degree. Namjoon had started Poppin’ Culture when he was 19, in his second year, and Hoseok had come on board once they’d branched out to a YouTube channel.

Still, you’re surprised by the way Hoseok’s cheeks go bright red and his eyes dart to you for a moment before he’s looking down at his desk once more. A wet tongue peeks out of his mouth quickly as he licks along his lips to wetten them, coughing to clear his throat before he’s looking back up at Jimin with a frown.

“Would you like the name of my e-e-ex-girlfriend? I’m s-s-socially awkward, not inept.” You suck your lower lip between your teeth as you look at Jimin with a ‘wtf’ look. As nice as he was, he was a bit blunt and you felt that situation could have probably done with a little more tactful handling. Hoseok looked like he could fry an egg on his cheeks and Jimin winces at the glare both Taehyung and you give him.

“Sorry man. I was out of line. I didn’t mean to insult you.” The apology is sincere in tone, with Jimin ducking his head and turning back to his work. You watch carefully as Hoseok eyes the younger man before letting out a quiet sigh and nodding his acceptance.

The atmosphere is slightly awkward now, and you’re desperate to make Hoseok less uncomfortable which is why you find yourself blurting out words you immediately want to swallow back up. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve not had a boyfriend since I was 20 and I’ve not been laid in four years.”

Almost immediately your hand is slapping over your mouth as your eyes widen in horror, apologies falling from your lips like honey as your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Not only are Hoseok’s eyes resembling dinner plates, his jaw dropped open in shock, but so is just about everyone else’s in the office. Well, that’s certainly one way to make him feel better about himself you guess.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Everyone, we need to be careful with her. She’s going through some tough times. Only 26 and already looking at a life of non-sexual fulfilment.” Taehyung drones deeply, his voice faux-sincere and you glare at him while pushing his hand off your shoulder.

“I will delete your folder of obscure foreign films.” You hiss at him through narrowed eyes, causing him to burst out into laughter as his hand slaps his thigh in amusement.

“Oh god, you crack me up. I need to thank Seokjin for hiring you, seriously. God, get on with your Spider-Man boner before you accidentally reveal something else way too intimate for the workplace to know.” He snorts before rolling back to his own desk. The office thankfully goes back to normal after that, the low level of chatter competing with the soft sounds of today’s playlist.

Looking at your screen, you’re distracted momentarily by the sight of Hoseok still in view just around your monitor. He’s looking at you in that way people do when they’ve checked out, their brains focused on something else entirely and you watch him back in amusement until he realises.

Almost immediately he cringes, bowing his head slightly and giving an uncomfortable smile before sliding back out of view. Smiling, you shake your head and pop your headphones back into your ears as you get back to work.

You’re oddly pleased to see Hoseok stand up for himself bluntly, and you remind yourself not to baby him. He’s a grown man after all, older than you.

The flashing of your phone lets you see that you’ve got a new notification from Facebook, and you roll your eyes as you click on your screen to see what it is. What you see however has you slowly smiling as a flutter of butterflies take flight in your stomach and you tap accept eagerly.

You have a new friend request: Jung Hoseok

-

The next few weeks roll by quickly with Taehyung and you becoming inundated with awards season nominations, ceremonies and just general Oscar bait films. It had even resulted in a whole ‘Top 10 Oscar Bait Films’ video on the Poppin’ Culture Film YouTube channel which had proven remarkably popular, even spawning a sequel that was generated purely from user comments.

You’re actually surprised with just how much you continue to love your job, even with the sheer pressure of blog and video deadlines constantly breathing down your neck. And it doesn’t take you long to realise that it’s because of the people you work with who make working that overtime all the more sweeter.

Jimin is genuinely hilarious and when paired up with Jungkook he becomes hysterical. Lisa has easily become your female work best friend, with the two of you Skyping all the time on your work computers and soon venturing out into the world to go to dinners, concerts and the cinema while Taehyung is an incredibly hard working colleague who always keeps a close on eye on how you’re doing.

It’s genuinely one of the best places you’ve ever worked and you thank all your lucky stars that you’d been accepted because you were pretty sure that you were making some of the closest friends you could.

And then there was Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok still remained a mystery to you and you weren’t entirely sure why you so desperately wanted to figure him out. Or maybe not figure him out, because you kind of liked how shy and mysterious he is.

The rest of your colleagues have been pretty open books and you were pretty sure that you were on the verge of receiving daily updates on Jimin and Taehyung’s sex life - you were that close with the two. But you still knew almost nothing about Hoseok and it drove you wild.

What was even more annoying was the fact that only you were apparently bothered by it too. The others just shrugged and said that he’d always been quiet and introverted, so they just made it clear to him that they were there if he wanted to talk or make friends with them. Apparently he never went out on the workplace socials and he rarely talked to others via text or Skype.

Which kind of infuriated you, because it probably was true that Hoseok preferred to be alone and lost in his world of music. But there must be something horribly isolating about never getting invited to things or never being included, which is why you kept trying to include him in your own conversations. The others would sometimes talk around him, but you always tried to make sure that he felt comfortable and included in your conversations.

Taehyung had honestly admitted in a meeting that he wasn’t entirely sure why you kept asking Hoseok things, pointing out that you might be annoying him. But you’d countered with the fact that you always gave Hoseok plenty of options to slip out of the conversation, yet he would continue it on sometimes.

It had been then that Taehyung had flushed a pretty golden pink, nodding his head as he acknowledged the fact that Hoseok had opened up more in the last few months of you being here than in the years he’d been here. That on its own had made your heart hurt. No one could enjoy being so easily disregarded, no matter how quiet and introverted.

Currently though, you were slouched on your couch with your best friend, Sunmi, as you both ate pepperoni pizza while watching Avengers: Infinity War for the bajillionth time. You, because you just loved the film, and her because she really loved Chris Hemsworth.

Honestly? Mood.

“I swear, this is the most badass entry scene of any entry scene in all of film,” You blurt out randomly, lifting your fist as Thor appears on screen in the middle of the battlefield and shouting out alongside him. “Bring. Me. Thanos!”

Sunmi snorts elegantly from your side, taking a bite of greasy pizza and chewing slowly while she eyes up her fictional man with pleasure. A hum of delight leaves her when Thor meets up with Captain America and you laugh, poking at her side.

“Imagine being in a Chris sandwich.” She looks at you and wiggles her carefully put together eyebrows before giggling.

“I wish. God, they can wreck me any day. You know, I can’t believe that you get to watch stuff like this and then write about it or make a video about it. Why can’t I just laze around and do that? Do they have an opening for me?” She pouts at you, placing the crust back in the box before wrapping her hands around your wrist and playfully whining.

You laugh loudly and take a bite of your own slice. “For what? Sorry Elle Woods, but you’re going to have keep your bending and snapping for the judge and jury. I doubt Poppin’ Culture - The Law Version will be very popular.”

“What about if I wear a hot pink bikini?” She says seriously, her face carefully blank as you give her a droll stare.

“Yeah sure, lemme give PornHub a call. I’m sure they’ve got a whole audience just waiting for their law lectures from Bikini Girl 3.” Sunmi shrieks with laughter at that, rolling backwards until her head is hitting the arm of the sofa and relaxing into the pile of cushions there.

Reaching her foot up, she prods at your thigh annoyingly until you push her away with a sigh.

“So, how is your work though? You’ve been spending a lot of time there. Which, by the way, is ridiculous. I only spend extra time doing work if I’m getting paid for it because I do not enjoy my job that much.” Sunmi sighs heavily, letting her arms fall behind her head as she turns her gaze back to your large television screen.

“Okay firstly, it was your decision to take a law degree. Your parents are assholes but they’re not dickish. They would have been fine with you being a doctor instead. Secondly, you make so much money an hour that you shouldn’t complain. You can literally buy a pair of Jimmy Choos with an hour.” Closing the pizza box, you lean forward and place it onto your wooden coffee table before leaning back and patting your stomach affectionately.

“Firstly you bitchass, I don’t make a lot because I’m still not fully qualified yet. It costs a lot to be a lawyer and the work is boring because I’m in property law. Yawn. Secondly, I hate property law but I would’ve passed out being a doctor. Blood and snot? No thanks. Maybe I should just give it all up and go back to college to become an artist.” She says dreamily and you look over at her with a raised brow.

“Do it. If it’s what you want. Your life shouldn’t be made on a decision you did based on what your parents wanted for you, as much as you might want to make them happy. They’re not your life, and you’ll burn out quicker if you do something you hate.” Sunmi just hums before shifting the pillows until she’s looking at you.

“Still. It’s nice that you’re enjoying it. I’m happy for you. I need to meet this Lisa, so you better set up a playdate or something. If she’s banging, I may just bang her. I mean, if you’re alright with that. And she likes girls.” Sunmi wiggles her brow and you laugh, shaking your head slowly.

“I think Lisa swings both ways honestly, so go for it. She’s pretty and cute with a really nice and fun personality. I wish I could introduce you to Jimin and Taehyung as well. They’re funny individually but hilarious together. Urgh, I wish I had someone the way Jimin eyefucks Tae across the room.”

“Does he realise you can see that?” She asks, an incredulous look on her face and you nod with a laugh.

“Oh yeah. He just gives me an innocent smile. They’re fun though and make me laugh, it’s like a family.” You sigh softly, slumping down further into the couch pillow. Sunmi’s quiet for a few seconds before speaking again.

“What about that quiet guy? Hoseok right?” Pausing, you chew on your lip as you stare blankly at the screen and wonder how to describe him to her.

“Hoseok...is sweet. Quiet but sweet. He doesn’t get involved in conversations of his own accord still, but I include him and he’ll get more involved now. We even have whole conversations just him and I, particularly about our love of 80s films though they’re not very long conversations. It’s nice, I’m literally watching him become more integrated and it’s kind of annoying that everyone just let him stagnate in his isolation. Like, seriously. Did no one ever think that maybe he doesn’t get involved because people have let him isolate himself? It’s hard to pull yourself out of that, and he’s obviously trying.” You don’t even realise you’re half ranting until you see Sunmi’s bemused smile, causing your cheeks to heat.

“Anyway, yeah. He’s a lot more caring than people think too. He just doesn’t show it in ways that you or I would, nor does he talk about them. Like...the other week I came in one morning to find a tube of dissolvable vitamin C tablets on my desk. When I asked where they’d come from, Hoseok Skyped me and said that he thought I looked like I was lacking a bit of vitamin C and to take one with water every day. And then when I was feeling a bit tired, he made me a cup of green tea. I swear Sunmi, he was so sweet and adorable because he kept stumbling over his words while telling me that green tea was healthy and rejuvenating but he didn’t like the taste so he always has peppermint and he hoped I liked peppermint too.”

Sunmi says nothing for a moment and you look at her in confusion, wondering why she’s suddenly decided to be quiet. It’s not like her to not get involved in your conversations, only she’s staring at you with wide eyes and a pretty mouth that’s fallen open.

“Oh my god. You like him.” Her words cause you to pause, frowning immediately as you shake your head in denial.

“What? No I don’t. I mean, yeah as a friend. Or I hope as a friend, but not anything more than that.” She lets out a peal of high pitched laughter while sitting up, looking closely at your face with those mahogany eyes of hers.

“Yes, you do. Oh my god, he is not even remotely your type from the sounds of it yet you’re falling hard girl. Show me a picture of him.” You want to keep denying her, mind spinning from what she’s come out with as you wonder where she’s got this impression from.

But once Sunmi has made up her mind, then it’s game over for everyone else. Sure enough, you find yourself scrolling through your phone on Facebook to find a nice picture of him to show her. And as you look through his, admittedly few, profile pictures, you pause for a moment as you realise that maybe she’s right.

Only people who like someone try and find the best looking picture of them, too afraid that their friend or family member will laugh and think their crush ugly. The swooping sensation in your stomach is confusing, and you don’t know whether it’s shy excitement or just plain old nausea.

Finally deciding on a picture of Hoseok that has obviously been taken in a coffee shop, you turn the phone screen so she can see. It’s got dim lighting, and has looks to have been taken on a Polaroid style camera from the style of it but he looks good.

In fact, he looks beautiful and his bright smile kind of takes your breath away.

He’s just wearing a plain white, long sleeved shirt with dark brown hair parted in the centre, the strands laying carelessly on his forehead while those beautiful chocolate eyes stare out from behind the lenses of his glasses. The table blocks anymore view of him and yet you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your stomach slowly spread along your veins.

Hoseok’s smiles are still rare, but they’ve slowly been becoming more frequent as you continue to talk to him. And every time you think he should smile more often, because he has a face that’s made for a smile.

His mouth is stretched wide with perfectly white, straight teeth showing and the force of the expression causes his eyes to narrow, soft tan cheeks looking adorably kissable.

Oh, you’re totally fucked.

“Holy shit…are you kidding me? This is Quiet Guy? Shy Guy? Holy fuck girl. He’s gorgeous! Look at that smile, oh my god. And he has such pretty eyes, that’s just not fair. Oh, please go for him. I know I said that he’s not your type because you normally like either those hipster guys or bad boys but he looks like he’d be so good for you. He looks kind, like you’d call him and say you’re sick and he comes right over to make you food and wraps you up in a blanket before cuddling with you, telling you that you need body heat to stay warm.” You look at her with a raised brow as she takes your phone and scrolls through his photos.

“And he obviously likes you.” Her words throw you then, causing you to frown as you stare before finally asking why she thinks.

“Because you said it yourself. He talks to you, even when he doesn’t talk to the others. You’ve said he keeps conversations going with you. He added you on Facebook first and he’s taking care of you in a weird but cute way of flirting. Like I said, he looks like he’d be a good boyfriend because he’s already trying to make sure you’re healthy and okay.”

She hands your phone back and points at the screen, where a new photo of Hoseok is. It’s not from his profile pictures, so you just presume it’s one that someone took of him and tagged him in. He’s asleep on his side on a couch, his right cheek smooshed into a pillow while his other looks soft and round. Pink lips pout in his sleep, the ends turned up while his lashes remain firmly closed and his hair is all over the place.

You have the strongest urge to reach through the screen to kiss his cheek.

“I think you should think on it, because I know you. And you’re probably having a little internal argument right now about whether or not you like him. But...if you decide that you do. Then I think you should go for it, because he looks nice. Get to know him a bit more, get him to open up his walls to you a bit more and then see if he really is interested. It’s been a while since you smiled like that about someone, and even longer since you searched through their pictures to find me the most flattering.” Dammit, you knew she’d figure you out.

You don’t respond though, simply locking your phone and placing it down on the cushion next to you as you both turn your attention back to the film. But you can’t help the what if’s that float around in the back of your mind, wondering if perhaps she’s right not only about yourself, but also him.

Did Hoseok like you?

-

Quite understandably, your interactions with Hoseok are suddenly tinged with a film of awkwardness as you contemplate the fact that you quite possibly like your shy colleague. And that’s to say nothing of how closely you watch his interactions with you to see if there’s a chance that he likes you in the way you like him.

Honestly, anyone would think you were 14 and not 26.

But he made you feel like a teenager though. The fluttering of nervous excitement in your stomach whenever he would look at you with that soft, bashful smile he’d give you whenever he caught your eye in the office. The way you would feel sad resentment when he was ill or was working from home and so didn’t come in.

How could you not though? Not only was he soul wrenchingly handsome and pretty, he was also thoughtful with the few conversations he would engage in and he was so sweet and kind.

When you’d complimented him on the peppermint green tea he’d brought you the other week, you found yourself with a mug being made every time he got up to go to the kitchen. You’d be completely absorbed in your work, staring at your screen intently with headphones in to keep distractions at bay, when you’d suddenly smell the pleasant scent of peppermint drifting to your nose.

And then you’d look to your side and see a fresh cup of tea sat there, steaming slowly in your Star Wars mug.

A quick glance behind your screen would let you see Hoseok staring firmly at his screen, refusing to look at you and yet his cheeks tinging a rosy glow that made your heart tug. It was only fair to respond in kind, and so you’d taken to making him a cup of your favourite tea as well, delicious salted caramel, and leaving it on his desk.

He hadn’t complained, so you took that as a sign that he enjoyed it too.

Maybe others would look at your interactions with laughter or bemusement, but you liked them. If he was flirting with you, because let’s face it you were flirting with him, then you were quietly excited and hopeful. You could cope with glacial, as long as it would hopefully result in something at the end.

Currently, you were attempting to film a video talking about the films that were snubbed completely at the Oscars. Taehyung had written up the script for you but was suffering from a winter cold at home. You’d claim man-flu, only you’d video called him and seen the dark circles under his eyes, sallow skin and bright red nose as he’d sniffled and snorted his way through your conversation.

As a result, you’d had to grab your emergency make-up kit from your drawer and rush to the bathroom to apply it. Today had been a lazy day; meaning you were just wearing a pair of ratty black jeans and an ancient Star Wars shirt that had once been black but was now an odd shade of grey.

Once you’d felt that you looked at the very least passable to the potentially thousands upon thousands of people who would be watching your face, you rush back through the office to place your kit back before heading over to the recording room. Tapping on the door lightly, you open it up to find Hoseok and Lisa inside as they set up the camera and lighting.

Already, the big ring lights are glaring and you’re feeling hot as you move over to the two, watching as they mess with the camera before checking over the computer on the desk next to it. Lisa moves around to the front, standing over the duct tape X on the floor and clipping the tiny microphone onto her shirt while waiting for Hoseok.

He’s wearing a plain white shirt today with a yellow and black check shirt open over the top and a plain pair of jeans. For some reason, he’s apparently decided to emulate Jungkook and is wearing some tan Timberland’s as well, though they surprisingly work well with the outfit.

You’ve noticed that Hoseok isn’t exactly the most fashionable person, but he’s yet to wear something that you find genuinely offensive. In fact, you often find that he manages to look hot even when he really shouldn’t. Maybe it’s just a talent attractive people have?

Hoseok gives a small nod to Lisa as his eyes flicker up from the screen, the light being reflected in his glasses. Lisa begins to talk random nonsense, performing a soundcheck to make sure the microphone is working properly while also making sure the camera’s fine.

Once done, she helps you to thread the microphone through your shirt and clip it on while placing the main pack into your back pocket. You stand on the X while going over the script that you can read on the screen reader facing you on the table.

Lisa slips away while you’re busy practicing, going through quick vocal exercises to warm your voice up as you continue to read over what you’re going to say. In your mind, you’re already visualising what the video will look like and you kind of feel sad that Taehyung can’t do this. It’s a good script.

“Okay. Are you ready?” Hoseok’s voice is soft and light, every word sounding like it has been cautiously thought of before he speaks it. You smile slightly as your head nods forward in response to him before clearing your throat and clenching your hands a few times while letting out a deep breath.

“Am I in the right place?” Looking down at the floor, you make sure that your feet are squarely on the spot and Hoseok looks through the camera before giving a cute okay symbol with a wink and pressed smile. It causes you to bite your own lower lip, desperately keeping inside the ‘cute’ that wants to escape.

“Okay, recording in three...two…” He stops speaking after that and mouths out the final one before pressing the button to record, a red light sparking to life on the camera and immediately you’re smiling brightly.

There’s no real pressure on you to do a good take in one shot, because Hoseok will be editing the scenes together and making some shorter to suit the video anyway. But you don’t really like wasting unnecessary hard drive space for him if possible. Plus, it just means he has to stare at your foolish facial expressions for longer and you’d really rather not.

On that note, it’s a little unfair that he gets to watch your face up close with a 4K camera. Actually, you’ve never thought about that before and almost immediately your brows crease at the thought of him seeing every pore and blemish on your skin. Christ, the camera does not do anyone justice and you want to whine at the thought of him seeing all your bad points in such harsh lighting.

When you don’t actually start speaking and instead start making a distressed face, Hoseok’s head peeks out from behind the monitor and he frowns at you in turn. Eyes focusing on his pretty visage, you have to squint slightly to see him properly from behind the astonishingly bright lights set up but you shake your head to reassure him.

Rolling your head on your shoulders and blowing bubbles with your lips, completely unaware of the tiny amused smile on Hoseok’s lips as he watches you through the monitor, you force yourself to get back into the zone.

The rest of the hour spent recording goes more or less like usual, with multiple outtakes when you mess things up and cause yourself to laugh. One of the hardest things of recording videos is just being able to being able to speak properly. You’ve had to learn to over-enunciate sometimes to avoid slurring your words together, because that just encourages hate from viewers.

And you are not in the mood to get hate. It’s already hard enough being a female commentator on the channel, and you’d had to grow some pretty thick skin in both the comments and on your own social media.

But there were plenty of equally great people too in fairness, and you’d even kind of got to know some regular viewers from the constant interactions you got both on your videos and on your own Twitter account. It was nice to have a mini fan club of people who were willing to defend you against the trolls and raise you up when you’re feeling down, though it’s not nearly as many as Taehyung’s extortionately big legion of fans.

There’s only a few major mishaps this time, with a few pronunciations of your words going horrifically bad and you find yourself cringing. Hoseok has a good chuckle on occasion and the bright bubbles of his laughter make you smile in turn, heart sparking with happiness at making him laugh.

Once Hoseok gave the signal to indicate that he was pretty happy with the recording, you let your shoulders drop while your head falls back on your shoulders, a deep groan leaving you as your entire body relaxes. Reaching to pull the microphone and its pack from under your shirt, you move over to Hoseok as he turns the light and camera off before he’s checking over the computer to transfer the new video files to his solid state drive.

“Did everything look good in it?” You ask, leaning your hip against the desk while your arms cross over your chest. Hoseok pauses for a moment at your close proximity before looking up at you slowly, his beautiful brown eyes looking sweetly innocent and big as he takes you in.

It’s still ridiculously endearing how shy he gets around you, but what you like even more is how it’s only when he’s not doing work related things. The last hour has been spent with him practically bossing you around, barking out polite requests when you’ve moved out of frame or have said something wrong.

He wasn’t mean about it or anything, he just took his job very seriously and it’s what made him such a damn good videographer and video editor. He knew what he needed and wasn’t afraid to tell people what to do in regards to that, so the sudden reversal back into the meek Hoseok tugged at your heart.

“Y-yeah. You did good. Less bad shots today.” You pout at him theatrically before pushing lightly at his shoulder, just enough to make him rock where he stands.

“Hey! There’s no need to be mean. You make it sound like I’m as bad Yugyeom! I don’t mess up that bad.” Lower lip sticking out, you look down at the floor until Hoseok lets out a soft and breathy laugh, shaking his head while adjusting his glasses slightly.

“I-I didn’t mean-. I’m not saying anything else,” He looks at you and gives you a wry smile. “I-I’m not stupid. I think I’ve dug enough of my own grave here.”

You can’t help but laugh out at that as you lean forward, body moving of its own accord before you move around him and rest your hand on his shoulder. It’s warm and solid beneath your palm, even through the layers he’s wearing and you swallow in sudden awareness of the firmness of him.

He freezes in place subtly as well, the muscles under your fingers tensing a little as neither of you move for a moment. It’s the first time you’ve ever touched him, and neither of you really seem to know what to do.

Swallowing, you let out a chuckle that’s a little higher pitched than you perhaps intended but you try to make it sound as natural as you can. Even if you’re feeling a little overwhelmed now when your hand feels warm and bizarrely sweaty.

“Funny, you’re way funnier than I thought Hobi!” The nickname you’d overheard Seokjin calling him once slips out without meaning to and you cringe with gritted teeth behind his back, taking your hand off his shoulder to pinch your leg at your stupidity. “Well, I hope it goes well. Let me know if there’s anything you need from me or just when it’s done so I can look it over? Thanks and bye!”

You can’t stop how fast the words fall from your lips, a faucet stuck on full when what you really want is a vault so tight not even the crown jewels of England can get out of it. Giving him an awkward smile, you book it out of the recording room as quickly as you can and leave him alone.

In fact, you go so fast that you don’t get to see the way Hoseok watches after you with widened eyes of shock which soon melt into half-moons of unguarded happiness in the quiet room. His hand shakes as it moves up to press at the place your own hand had been, the skin feeling prickly underneath and his breath shakes as a hesitant smile slowly paints its way on his face.

You don’t see that, nor do you see the way he pauses on a close up of your face with a fond smile before closing the programme down and leaving.

[buttercup-of-kaer-morhen]

Of Thorns and Buttercups

~Ch 5/?~

(Beauty and the Beast AU, Kiiiinda. It has definite elements of the original story cause I’m a sap for Fairytale AUs. I hope you enjoy. Also shout out to @sophiakuso1 for being my beta. Here you can find Beginning or Previous) Geralt tries to figure out how to break the curse while battling with his feeling this time.

Note: Lew is pronounced Lef because it is polish just as a heads up.

Primary Tags: Beast! Geralt, Belle! Jaskier, Memory Alteration Via Curse, It really only affects Jaskier right now Also on AO3!

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Geralt sat in the destroyed room that night after dinner, staring at the cage. He was specifically trying to not think about the fact that not only was the bard trapped in the cursed castle with him, but the bard also somehow lost his memory, most likely due to said curse… and it was all Geralt’s fault. The guilt swirling around in his chest was sickening and unwelcome. He just kept dragging the bard down with him. Geralt ran circles through his mind trying to figure out what he should do about the whole damn thing. After a while, he decided that it would be better at that point if he were to just stay away from the man as best as he could. If he did, then Jaskier would slowly realize he was wasting his time on a monster like Geralt, just like on the mountain. Geralt just had to figure out how to get Jaskier past the thorn vines keeping them imprisoned, but the witcher had a sinking feeling that it would require the curse being broken.

Geralt sighed, finally looking away from the silvered metal vines trapping the cluster of buttercups and realized the moon was high in the sky, much further in its journey than when he had fetched the bard to eat. It felt like he was not only losing time, but it also couldn’t move any slower. Watching the clock or trying to solve a problem in his head to pass the time was like watching tree sap drip in winter, but if he got lost in his thoughts, it flew by without him realizing. The memory of the almost completely dead rose and the warning of petals falling had dread creeping up his spine. He had a limit on his time, whether it was choosing to go fast or slow, until who knows what would happen, and it was all very similar to waiting in a dungeon for his own execution. Except this time, he had a bard to drag to his death with him and he had no idea where to even start to try and stop it… Except the weird journal! 

He wanted to smack himself for almost forgetting about its existence. He quickly collected the small book again and settled back onto the edge of the bed. He first flipped through, discovering that it was a journal of someone of the castle rather than magical notes or something of actual use, and oddly enough it only had the first few pages written in. Although it was just a journal, it reeked of magic, as did everything else in this place, which irked him a bit. Would nothing be easy?! A magical personal journal was most likely useful, but he didn’t know how yet until he actually read the damn thing. He sighed before settling further into the nest of fabric so he could at least be comfortable while slogging through the first entry that was most likely fraught with exaggerations he’d have to weed through. He did hope that more pages would fill as he read however, because perhaps there were magical inscriptions and spells on later pages… He could only hope. 

[The Date is Unreadable]

The years grow long since I came to my lord’s court and was given the honor of my knighthood. We have fought many battles side by side and I have completed every task, be it political or mundane, which he has given me. Although this life leaves me fulfilled, I feel as though I am missing something. I crave the companionship of another outside that of my fellow knights, my lord, and the countries that seem ever present now. Although the ladies I have been introduced to as of late are fine of figure and mind, none fill the hollow feeling that has steadily grown in my chest. 

I almost thought all hope was lost when while I was in the village today, I came upon the fairest maiden I had ever laid eyes upon. Her delicate features and poise rivaled that of any woman I have encountered across the lands on my travels. Her timid and delicate disposition only lends to her outward appearance, for as soon as I caught sight of her eyes, I could see the wild freedom that burned within. The fierce look called out to me and it lit my soul ablaze, but before I could make my way to her across the market, she was gone. Now I am haunted by the ethereal grace the lady has left instilled in my mind. 

It is not my will to cage or steal away her free spirited nature. I only wish to partake in it with her so I may feel alive like I once did while seeing the world in a new light provided by her fire. I plan to go to my lord upon the sun’s arrival and I will beseech him to help me find her so that I may earn the permission from her family so I may be allowed to court her. I pray this evening for everything to work in favor of us all. 

Geralt sighed heavily through his nose as his head fell back against the plush and he looked at the elaborate ceiling above. So far it was exactly what he feared it would be, the over-dramatized tellings of some Knight’s life that reads more like one of those sappy romantic tales Jaskier would constantly rave or sing about rather than an actual succinct telling of events. He couldn’t understand how any of this connected to the curse, but he begrudgingly decided to read on and see where he ended up. 

[The Date is Also Unreadable on this Entry]

 The leaves on the trees have turned to the colors of fire, and the world looks as though it has been set ablaze. I have only just returned from meeting with a neighboring lord, during which time I have gone nearly half a season without even a name of my lady love. Oh how she still torments my heart day and night with her absence. It is as though she has bewitched me, and I have no hold over my own self at present. My mind is filled almost entirely by her, and my only wish, if I am unable to win her affection, is to formally meet her. 

My lord sent word that he would make enquiries on my behalf while I was away and now that I have returned, anticipation steals my breath. My fellow knights jest that I  should have followed the path of a bard for how I constantly prattle on at them, waxing poetic of her spirit and sketching her form  from memory, as we travel between our destinations. Although I know it is only light fun on their part, I find myself getting sentimental as I ever grow closer to the middle of my life. I wonder deep in the night whether I would have been more suited to another life but, it is quickly dismissed as nonsensical at this stage. My lord has also made mention, as we are good friends, he feels as though we are practically brothers with how much trust he allows me, and he will be glad to hire me as the official court bard if a change of profession ever truly struck my fancy. They all mock kindly but it warms me at my core to know there are those in my life who indulge my whims. 

Still, Sir Gregor questions why I will not simply give my heart to one of the many ladies of the court  who fancy me, and proclaims me mad in the head for not doing so. I have given up on trying to explain the incredible sensation she has left within me. He will never understand such yearning and passion that has filled me since I took the sight of her in for the first time. I feel pity for the man, but as I rest tonight, I hold hope in my heart for what my lord has to say come morning. 

Geralt found reading this to be akin to dying slowly. Plodding through someone’s desperate yearning was the worst torture he has had to endure yet but at least there was something that hinted at magic in this passage. Geralt also observed that several pages were sketches of a beautiful woman with light hair, tawny skin, and dark eyes. He could not tell if the drawings were exaggerated by the knight’s besottment or if the woman could have possibly been fae or magic of some kind, glamoured just enough to hide the obvious parts while maintaining unnatural beauty. It could have explained why the curse magic was so strong and tricky. Magic was tricky in general, but fae magic was notoriously known for being a bitch, and he had been warned off from meddling in their affairs a long time ago for that exact reason… Now, here he was, knee deep in the shit. He’d have to figure it out one way or another. Deciding he’d be better off just reading the damn thing to completion rather than dithering on about what it could be, he turned his attention back to the book.

To his frustration, the rest of the pages remained blank. Unable to hold in his anger from hitting one road block after another, he threw the damned thing across the room with a growl and it landed with a satisfying rustle of paper before sliding somewhere out of sight. Unable to stand laying around anymore, he got up and began pacing through the quarters barely containing his aggravation. He wondered what to do now. That had been his last lead other than the meaningless riddle the beast had given him. He wanted to go out and train so he could take his frustrations out on something, but no, Jaskier was out there thinking he was just some random beast, and Geralt really didn’t want to add to the image his form presented currently. He wanted to break the curse, but he kept hitting wall after wall! He wanted… No. He needed someone to help him fix this entire mess, but there was no way for him to contact anyone other than the man who no longer remembered him. No wolves or powerful witches or plucky bards who glued themselves to Geralt’s side day and night were there to help him this time around. 

“Fuck…” The defeated syllable slipped from his lips as he sank to the cold stone floor while holding his face in his hands, the fur feeling strange but increasingly familiar under his touch… Jaskier had called him a beast. Geralt had never thought the bard would ever-- He had been the only one who hadn’t ever called the witcher a monster or recoiled at the sight of him. On the contrary, he would often defend Geralt from villagers who called him vile names, and even went as far as to attack the truly aggressive offenders… But now the Witcher was a beast with no name. The bard’s voice uttering the word kept repeating over and over again in his head. Geralt only had himself to blame. If he hadn’t yelled, if Jaskier had still been by his side, then maybe the troubadour would have never lost his memories. 

He had been so caught up in his own spiraling thoughts, Geralt almost didn’t notice the other voice suddenly filling the room. “Oi! Mopin’ about are we?” The warbled feminine voice cleaved through the once silent space but it came from seemingly nowhere as he scanned the area. Getting up, he searched as the squawking continued up until the point he came into view of a fractured mirror that had been hidden behind a moth eaten drape. As he looked in confusion at the mirror, due to the fact that the reflection was certainly not his own, the visage of the old hag from the town moaned in disappointment and shook her head at him from behind the reflective silver backed surface. “You fool Witcher! I-- I sent you to break the curse, not become cursed yourself, you nitwit!” She scolded with an exhausting scowl. If she were in her youth, he was sure she would remind him of Yen in some ways. 

He couldn’t help growling in frustration as he met her steely scowl with his own. “How was I expected to break a curse you refused to give me proper information on?! And you seem to still have some magic, so why not do it yourself if you knew how to?!” He tried to keep himself from snarling at the hag, but she was infuriating and the worry, as well as the earlier frustrations, were just compiling together. 

She took a moment to settle herself before sighing and gathering her thoughts, he assumed. In a calmer tone, she spoke again. “I cannot tell you about the curse in depth… Only pieces, and I cannot go there like yourself.” Her voice slowly became graver as she spoke and looked him directly in the eye. No lie then…

He grit his teeth before saying anything else, more civilly as Jaskier would have called it. “Why?”

“I just can’t… but I can help you as best as I can. This ain’t your curse, but you’re stuck with it--” It suddenly occurred to him that her accent was different from when they had met in her old shack which was… Odd.

“I know. I’m the making of my own curse. The beast said it before he died. Also, why do you sound different now?” He interrupted her as his annoyance rose again. 

“Shut it, you daft tit! Don’t interrupt me when I’m trying to help!” She spat at him, shaking a frail fist at him from behind the glass while once again scowling at him. Then after a beat, she continued. “Came to these lands years ago from far off and regretted it. Folks don’t take kindly to those different, so I glamoured my voice.” She clarified with an eye roll. Yup. Definitely Yen if she were to ever age. 

He chewed over the words as he felt some of the tension seep away. “Fair… So what can you tell me that will actually be useful?” He asked, sagging slightly, the memory of Jaskier looking at him in fear and no recognition was still a fresh would in his mind. 

“Hmmmmm… Though the curse is harsh, it’s not cruel. Born of grief it was…” The hag looked as though she were fighting her own mouth before she sighed once again. “Although it imprisons, it’ll give you everythin’ you need to break the curse. Don’t be a fool. If anythin’ appears there, then it’s for a reason. Make use of it or dither till you die in a prison of your own design. Only you can figure why you’re cursed.” She spoke critically but at least it was something useful to which he nodded in thanks thinking that her image would fade then. “Witcher! If you’re in dire straits, knock thrice on the looking glass and think o’ where you wanna see, or to whom you wish to speak. Only I’ll be able to answer back, however.” She offered hastily and after he nodded again, she was gone in a blink of an eye. The mirror now only held his own beastly reflection. 

He mulled over the words, realizing the night had grown long after that disaster of a dinner and it was now the witching hour; If he didn’t try to sleep now, then he would be tired and upset the next day, and he really didn’t need himself snapping at the bard again in misplaced irritation. So, he laid in the shredded nest of a bed and thought more on Jaskier. If he was brought here for a reason, then why steal his memories? And why would Geralt ever curse himself? Perhaps the magic was twisting a subconscious thought from the back of Geralt’s mind into something strange and problematic. But still, why the bard of all people? He drifted into an uneasy sleep thinking about all the new information. 

When he woke, the world was bright outside the crystalline windows, and there was a fuzziness to the world that followed waking from a deep sleep. The room was better around him, healed of the scars of broken and shattered furniture. He supposed this had been what the hag had spoken of; the keep was providing things slowly. He moved through the morning muzzy headed, letting his body rely on muscle memory as he went through several tasks of morning preparation. His head was clearer by the time he visited Roach in the stables where she waited patiently to be tended to and given exercise. He saddled her and checked it twice over before seating himself in the saddle… which was odd, seeing as he was so much bigger now that he was cursed, but she made no indication that he was too heavy or bothersome. The fogginess was back and his concerns evaporated as he rode out into the fiery forest. The foliage in hues of red and orange rushed past as he went further and further, nearing the small hidden lake between the castle and the town. Its waters shone gold as though the water were a dragon’s hoard of coin and riches in the early hours, but the beauty of it could not compare to the figure standing at it’s banks. 

Geralt barely remembered getting down from Roach or silently moving forward to observe the figure more closely, but then his mind cleared again and realization washed over him that the figure was in fact Jaskier. The bard was peacefully gazing out at the calm waters, but he wore odd clothing that Geralt swore he had never seen him in before. Instead of his usually short doublet, he wore a well fitted jacket of some sort that trailed all the way to the floor in the back and the front, but had slits up to the hips to show his well fitted trousers and tall boots. A part of it irked Geralt to no end, because it looked good, but strange and unlike the man at the same time. It was all reminiscent of a dress yet not. It was almost a coat he could imagine Yen wearing, but the garments were a soft blue trimmed in accents of red. It was a nostalgic reminder of Jaskier’s outfit from when they first met. 

The situation was so bizarre that Geralt wanted to question what was happening but before he could think, his body took an unconscious step forward snapping a twig under his heel. Jaskier’s coat whirled around him as he spun and caught sight of him, but there was no fear in his eyes, only confusion and curiosity. “Apologies my lady, I did not mean to frighten you. I was merely curious when I spotted a figure as I rode passed. Are you all right?” What the fuck was that? Geralt understood that it was his voice that spoke but the words were not his own. Icy understanding filled his gut and he knew now that this obviously had something to do with magic. 

“Very kind of you sir. I was just wanting to enjoy the still beauty of the morning and happened upon this lake.” Jaskier smiled brilliantly at him, his voice sounding exactly how Geralt remembered but there was an edge to it that sounded off. Unnatural. This was definitely not Jaskier. 

“I… I’ve seen you in the town but I’ve never had the pleasure to meet your acquaintance in person. I hoped to speak with you, if not just hear your name. I am Lew.” Geralt introduced himself with a foreign name. That was definitely not his name, and he hated how it felt coming out of his mouth, but he seemed to have no control over himself. With dawning horror, Geralt now understood that this was someone else's memories that he was now occupying. It could have been Jaskiers, or someone else from the castle, or even the writer of the journal. Geralt couldn’t be sure yet, and the bard couldn’t be ruled out immediately since the witcher realized he knew practically nothing of Jaskier’s past… It just kept getting messier and messier as he was dragged further into the spell. Whoever wove the threads of this magic somehow got it completely tangled into a ball of shit. 

“Ania. I have only come to live here a year or so ago, which is why we most likely have yet to meet formally.” Jaskier spoke in an amused tone, but Geralt was pretty damn sure that was not his bard’s real name. It was Jaskier. Maybe it wasn’t the bard’s memories after all. Geralt was going to have a difficult time remembering this was not actually the bard himself then but only the spell filling in a face with someone he knew. It was already getting so confusing in his mind, so Geralt decided to just keep using the name attached to the face he knew instead of using the ones he’d heard. Deciding it wouldn’t do much good to fight the memory, he settled in and let everything happen around him. The troubadour looked so much softer now than when they were ever on the road though. It made something in his chest flutter, but he was unsure if it was actually him or the owner of the memory feeling it. 

The witcher found himself wanting to say more, ask more about Jaskier, but the words had left him and his mouth refused to work. It felt like it was his only chance and it was fleeting right before his eyes. The strange visage of the bard suddenly looked off into the distance behind himself before returning a sheepish look to Geralt. “I… I have to go.” His voice was hesitant as Geralt slowly reached a hand out to the man, as if not wanting the bard to leave, but still unable to find the words. Jaskier smiled gently, before biting his lower lip as though he were trying to decide something. The witcher didn’t understand why he was paying such close attention to everything Jaskier did but he was. “I hope our paths cross again, Lew.” And with that, the man fled into the forest with his jacket fluttering behind him.  Geralt would have followed, curious as to if this person was human or not and get answers, but it would appear that the original “Lew” had been frozen with indecision in that moment. His heart raced, which felt strange to Geralt, but then things melted away and the Witcher was once again opening his eyes to the sunlight streaming through the windows. This time however, the room was still destroyed and the light was the cold shine of a winter morning. Geralt found himself staring up at the ceiling in complete bafflement, unable to really understand what the curse could have possibly thought he’d glean from that experience. He sat up in a huff and couldn’t help the puff of agitated words that slipped out of his throat. “What the fuck…” Then he was out of the chambers and headed for the stables to tend to Roach. If anything calmed him down and helped him to organize his thoughts, it was quality time with the mare.

[italicwatches]

Comic Girls - Episode 10

Oh my god I finally have all this healthcare bullshit sorted out and appointments re-made. I can fucking breathe. So what’s happening now? Well, anime, of course. It’s Comic Girls, episode 10! Here we GO!

-We begin with…Those aren’t lilies. Oh shit it’s winter. The Christmas season, even, and Ririka has gotten a Christmas tree for the dorm! And gotten out decorations! Oh my god I’d fight someone for winter chill right now. Meanwhile…Ruki is being sad in the snow, because she dramatically hates Christmas?! Oh no!

-Opening! There’s the lilies.

-So a tired Tsubasa comes padding down the stairs and finds a very well decorated Christmas tree. …What day is it today? The 22nd. Of December. Right, right, December…Haaave you two seen Ruki?

-She’s… been standing dramatically outside of the dorm all morning. And now she’s pacing. It’s kind of weird. So Tsubasa goes out to talk to her and I’m just saying, Ruki gets awfully blushy at Tsubasa calling out to her with “Hey pretty lady”. …Now get back to work. And Ruki has a freakout because yes, ultimately the reason she dislikes Christmas is because it’s a romantic day and she’s an erotic manga artist with no lover. Tsubasa even made a handy graph to show the way these romantic days fuck with Ruki’s motivation.

-See also when she completes a page of her manuscript to prove she’s not all screwed up inside, and yet she gets jealous of her own character.

-Is it weird that the most unbelievable part in all of this is Ruki insisting she wants a boyfriend? And not a small pink moeblob? So Koyume and Kaos try to perk her up and, Koyume’s attempt doesn’t work because you have a solid crush you spend all your time around! And Kaos reminds Ruki of her fan-letters, a perfect motivator to fill her with love! …Except they just remind her that she’s got nobody to be romantic with. Wow this is the worst Tsubasa has ever seen her.

-Okay, new plan! Why don’t they all help Tsubasa on the next chapter of The Dark Hero? Some battle manga will be a great change of pace! …But the chapter she���s working on has the eponymous hero being very cutely tsundere to the princess and Ruki breaks.

-The next day! Ruki has come to Suzu for desperate help, and Suzu is entirely happy to continue to let Ruki cling to her, as they talk about the unusual pressures of erotic and horror manga and the lonely lives they have to lead…Though Suzu is more…Shall we say…Motivated, than Ruki. And finally she leaves, trying to push herself to get back to work…

-When she finds the room empty? And dark? Completely—

-And the lights come on and poppers go off! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Ruki! Congratulations on turning six…teen…Wait huddle. She’s only sixteen? She was only fifteen a minute ago? Tsu could have sworn she was around 24. (YOU WENT TO ELEMENTARY AND MIDDLE SCHOOL WITH HER.) They even made her a cake with Ririka’s help! And, presents!

-A giant version of her favorite plush, and a massage pillow, and…And Kaos panics because she erred on her gift choice. Calm yourself, Kaos! So what is it? It’s a cosplay outfit of Kaos’s favorite idol who is also a tall, graceful, purple-haired onee-sama type. I suddenly realize this long string of nonsense words is what normal people hear when I talk about anime.

-Also it’s the special Christmas outfit and…Kaos. Kaos please dial it in. But Ruki also soaks up all the praise and attention like a sponge, which Kaos is more than willing to provide.

-Until, finally, it’s…Actually well past Christmas. It’s in fact the end of the year, and everyone’s going back home to celebrate New Years with their family(and give Ririka an actual few days off from the life of a landlady and dorm matron). The good news is that Ruki is pulling back from the depths, but also Kaos realizes she hasn’t told her mom she’s coming back. Oh dear, she should…

-The answering machine gets it and she’s on vacation in Hawaii with her beloved husband and stacks of manga. And looking at her mom, who basically looks like if you put real human legs on our little moeblob…A lot of pieces of how Kaos came to be the sort of person she is suddenly fell into place.

-Of course Kaos has a panic and is off in depression land. Though now everyone’s trying to figure out where they can put a Kaos. Koyume wants to take her home, but Koyume’s family is planning a trip. Ruki would do it, but her house lacks a guest room and her little sister is going through an angry, shouty puberty. …Tsubasa? Not happening. So Kaos decides to just find all of her humanity in her favorite bishoujo figurines. The gang’s all here dot gif

-Fine, FINE, you’re coming with Tsubasa. They get to the train station, and Tsubasa in her warmest cosplay cloak, steps into the bathroom…And out comes an entirely normal looking teenage girl?! TSUBASA IS THAT YOU?! …Speak nothing of what you’re going to see, Kaos. Tell no one anything of this week. That is the price you will pay for room and board.

-Hard cut to…Does Tsubasa live in a castle??? Is she a princess?!

-SHE”S A FUCKING PRINCESS

-ababababa

-With LOVING PARENTS?!!!

-AND EVEN THE STAFF LOVE HER?!

-HOW

-WHY

-WHEN

-WHAT

-WHERE

-WHO

-ABABABABABA

-Yeah Kaos I feel your broken brain. And it turns out that Tsubasa is also a…trained pianist…? Except she’s doing rough. …Tsubasa what’s going on here? And that’s when Ruki races in at FULL FORCE. She got here so intensely that she left tire streaks on the stone walkway from her bike.

-And she’s here to cover for Tsubasa. Which at least means this is Tsubasa’s actual family and she’s not pulling some identity theft. She’s just lying about where she’s going to school and what she’s doing there and she’s forced Ruki to help in the lie. Also Tsubasa has no good photos…But Ruki photoshopped some! YES!

-Oh god why did we let Ruki do the photoshopping

-Also it turns out that Tsubasa is operating under an agreement with her mother to keep her grades up to the tip top and if she was just drawing manga all the time, she’d get dragged back here into the abyss. …Oh. Oh dear. Tsubasa is panicking so bad she turns into a Konosuba character and screenshot found. Click. Her mother is like a great demon lord.

-So it all comes out in Tsubasa’s room, how Tsubasa owes her entire life so far to Ruki and her help was enough to smuggle Tsubasa out of this place and into the dorm but under tons of conditions…RUKI YOU SAVED HER and now she’s all clingy and Kaos please dial in the thirst this is serious.

-Episode 10: It’s Not Fair That Michiru Gets All The Love

-New Year’s day! Tsubasa is in full proper dress and behavior and Kaos doesn’t know what to do. All the proper behavior is coming back out and Kaos is very confused. It’s like the Tsubasa she knows is slipping away! (More that she’s carefully boxed that Tsubasa up and hidden it in the crawlspace.) And Kaos has to draw the true Tsubasa back out of the crawlspace! FOCUS, woman, the fans need their Dark Hero! Also if you don’t draw your manga she’s gonna send this picture of you sleeping cutely to Koyume. NEVERRRRR DELETE DELETE DELETE

-To the girls all getting together at a shrine, with Koyume wishing she could have seen the photo, and Tsubasa being able to loosen up a little here. She’s still all very proper because it’s a New Year’s shrine, but she is able to at least dress like a proper prince instead of a pretty little princess. So with prayers done, it’s time for fortunes…Where Kaos gets literally the worst luck possible. And then her whole day goes wrong at the shrine.

-By the time they’re wrapping up, she’s feeling dead inside, as they decide to fight all this with a good luck charm! Now breathe, breathe! Back to the dorm, where…Is that smoke? OH GOD IS THE DORM ON FIRE?!

-No, Ririka just set up a little campfire out back to do some traditionally roasted sweet potatoes. She does it every year. It’s also the time to do a big cleaning session and gather up all the sketches and storyboards that aren’t worth keeping. Tsubasa is very hesitant to ever give up her sketches to the flames. Ruki, to contrast, shreds her shit the instant her publisher has a copy tied only to her pen name. You never know what could happen. She could get hit by a bus tomorrow, and she needs to be damn sure nobody ever realizes she was drawing porn! Ruki that’s a bit much.

-But then Tsubasa points out that the records of her sending those manuscripts in are going to last forever and a day in corporate vaults. You will never be free!

-And Koyume is willing to burn it all in trade for the sweet potatoes. Also Suzu is here to be spooky. As per usual. And damn, there’s some heavy stuff in those rejects…When Kaos sees a page she can’t bear to burn! You all stay here and save your valuable prizes! She’s going to gather up all of her rejects.

-She…has a lot. And as she starts to pour things in, the girls are looking over what’s still to go in. Oh god this sucks. But they’re also seeing quite a lot of potential in a lot of these. There’s meat here worth coming back to.

-But finally, the sweet potatoes are done! And they’re delicious. And for just a moment, everyone can relax, and put the troubles of the past and future aside…

-Credits!

So that whole Tsubasa part was bananas.

And I did not get nearly as much Rukaos as I was expecting. This is unfortunate. Perhaps we’ll get some next time, in episode ELEVEN of Comic Girls! Wait for it!

[still-with-hearts-beating]

criminal-ish (jane/kurt + rich dotcom fanfic + #bspromptchallenge)

project: @blindspothiatusproject 30 day gif/fanfic prompt challenge

day 3. friends/enemies

series: what i never knew i always wanted

  criminal-ish

 “Let me get this straight. You and Jane are married, you have two children and another one on the way, and no one thought to tell me about this?”

Kurt couldn’t help but laugh as he sat down opposite Rich and crossed his arms over his chest.

 “To be fair, Rich...it’s a little difficult to keep you in the loop when you’re on the run from law enforcement,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I would have gladly shared our news had you chosen to get in touch.”

 Rich scowled and shook his head.

 “I’m disappointed in you, Stubbles,” he said, glancing down at the handcuffs that currently kept him attached to the table in front of him.

 “I really thought our friendship was deeper than that, that you wouldn’t let a silly little thing like ‘laws’ get in the way. I’m hurt.”

 Kurt rolled his eyes, flipping open Rich’s file on the table, preparing to go through the multitude of charges in front of him.

 It had been an accident that had lead to them even having this conversation. A coincidence, really.

 Rich had been on the run for years, escaping their custody when they had recruited his help for another mission.

 It was only last week, when the yacht he had been living on in the South Pacific ran into engine trouble and floated into international waters that he had appeared back on their radar.

 Kurt had worked with the Justice Department to process his extradition and he had arrived at the FBI’s New York headquarters that day, entering the SIOC elevator right at the same time that Jane was arriving with Kurt’s wallet, which he had forgotten on their dresser that morning.

 “Jane!” he greeted her with a smile. “I hoped I would run into you. Long time no – woah, woah woah. What the hell, Jane? When did this happen?!” he exclaimed, noticing her pregnant belly.

 She laughed, resting her hand on her stomach as she stepped inside the elevator to join him and the officers accompanying him.

 “You’ve missed quite a bit during your time on the ocean, Rich,” she said with a smile, shaking her head.

 Despite everything, even she could admit she was glad to see him again.

 “This one’s number three...” she whispered.

 “WHAT?!”

 She laughed again as the elevator arrived at SIOC, Kurt standing on the other side to greet them.

 He had been expecting Rich, having received the call that his transport had arrived a few minutes earlier. He was surprised when his wife also stepped off the elevator.

 “Hi, honey,” she said with a chuckle. “I bumped into an old friend,” she said, glancing back at Rich, whose jaw had dropped as he looked back and forth between them.

 “Wait...YOU TWO?!” he yelled, loud enough to attract the attention of the entire SIOC bullpen.

 “Ssssshhhh, Rich. Come on,” Kurt said, looking around with a frown. “OK, back to work everyone,” he called as he reached out for Rich’s arm to lead him to the interrogation room.

 Jane walked along side them.

 “What’s wrong, Rich? I thought you’d be happy for us,” she smiled, winking at Kurt as he shook his head at her.

 “Don’t encourage him,” he mumbled but Jane waved her hand dismissively.

 “I could be happy for you if I had known anything about any of this!” Rich said with a huff as they arrived at the door to the interrogation room.

 “I just feel so...betrayed,” he said, dramatically.

 “Hmmmm,” Jane murmured, looking at Kurt with a grin. “Sorry to hear that, Rich. Well, it was nice seeing you again,” she said as the guard accompanying them continued with Rich into the interrogation room as Kurt hung back with Jane.

 “That was kind of fun,” Jane admitted as the door closed.

 Kurt shook his head but smiled as he rolled his eyes.

 “Your wallet, my love,” Jane said as she took it out of her purse and held it out to him.

 Kurt smiled again and leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

 “Thank you, sorry to drag you down here,” he said, tucking it into his pocket.

 She shook her head and nodded towards the closed door behind him.

 “No apology needed. I got that encounter out of it,” she said with a grin.

 “I’ll see you at home. Have fun,” she added, patting his chest as she walked past him to leave.

 Now, Kurt sat across from Rich, rattling off the dozens of charges that he currently faced. He noticed that Rich was not really paying attention, his eyes glancing around the room as he let out a dramatic sigh every so often.

 “Rich,” Kurt called, lightly banging his hand on the table in front of hm. “Focus, please.”

 “Was it a big wedding?” Rich asked. “White dress? Tux? I remember how nice you look in a tux from the first time we met. Did you at least have a good band? I hope you also released some doves.”

 Kurt paused, studying Rich’s expression as he imagined a wedding far more elaborate than his actual one. He  leaned back in his own chair, closing the file in front of him.

 “Two minutes,” Kurt said, against his better judgment. “Ask what you want to know.”

 “Big wedding?”

 “We eloped.”

 “Vegas?”

 “Upstate.”

 “Your kids are boys? Girls?”

 “One girl, one boy. One to be determined.”

 “Names?”

 Kurt paused, unsure how much more personal information he wanted to divulge to the criminal sitting across from him.

 “Oh come on, Kurt. I’m just curious. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been a big supporter of you and Jane since day one. Hell, since before day one!”

 Kurt sighed, allowing a small smile to grow on his lips.

 “Eden is almost five. Charlie is 18 months.”

 Rich nodded, leaning forward and folding his hands together.

 “And I guess Jane doesn’t work here anymore?” he asked.

 Kurt shook his head.

 “Stopped when Eden was born. She’s an artist now. A pretty good one. She’s sold a few paintings and sketches,” he said, his pride coming through his words.

 “That’s good,” Rich said as he processed all the information Kurt had given him. “Sounds...normal,” he added.

 Kurt laughed, his smile growing.

 Normal was exactly the life he and Jane were trying to give their family.

 “Alright, Stubbles. I thank you for your indulgence. Back to whatever exaggerated tales you have in that little file of yours,” he said, nodding towards the file on the table.

 Kurt finished reading out the charges against Rich and then spent the better part of five hours trying to get whatever information he could out of him before sending him to holding for the night.

 After a couple more hours finishing up the necessary paperwork, Kurt made his way home for the evening.

 “Hi guys!” he called out as he walked into their apartment, shrugging off his suit jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door.

 “Daddy!” Eden came running from around the corner, rushing right into his legs. “Daddy, come see my new dollhouse!” she shrieked, grabbing Kurt’s hand and pulling him towards her bedroom.

 “New dollhouse?” he asked, as Jane appeared from around the corner, an exasperated smile on her lips.

 “Oh, just you wait,” she said, following Eden and Kurt into her room.

 Dollhouse was an understatement, Kurt thought once he saw the new item in his daughter’s room. More like “doll mansion” as the structure was almost as tall as she was.

 “Look, daddy! It came with a pony, too!” she said, holding up the toy pony from the accompanying stables. Kurt looked over at Jane with wide eyes.

 “What the...”

 “And go see Charlie’s train set!” Eden exclaimed before Jane could respond.

 Kurt shuffled back into the hall and peeked into his son’s room next door.

 Charlie sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by an elaborate, vintage train set. He was currently pushing a red train around, moving on his knees alongside the tracks.

 “Chooooooooooooooooo!” he said each time he shifted to the side. “Chooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo” he dragged the sound out longer as he sped up the wood train with his hand.

 “That’s right, Charlie, a train goes Choo!” Jane said from behind Kurt as she grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards the kitchen.

 “So, we had a little delivery about an hour ago,” she said, raising her eyebrow at him. “I’ll give you three guesses who it was from but you’ll only need one.”

 She sat down on one of their kitchen stools, resting her hands on her belly as she raised her eyebrows at her husband. An open cardboard box sat beside her on the counter.

 Kurt was quiet for a minute as he glanced behind them to their children’s rooms and then back at his wife.

 “You can’t be serious...” he said, shaking his head.

 “Oh yes. And there’s more,” Jane said, nodding towards the cardboard box. “Check it out.”

 Kurt peered over into the box, seeing a beautiful watercolor paint kit, an extremely expensive bottle of scotch, and a large, plush, stuffed elephant.

 “There was a note,” Jane said with a grin, handing over a small card.

 “Do I even want to....” Kurt asked, raising and eyebrow at Jane as he held up the card.

 Jane smiled and nodded. Kurt flipped open the card, reading the neat, printed text inside.

 Dear Stubbles, Jane, Eden, Charlie and Little Rich (just a suggestion)...

 Despite my despair at being left out of the most monumental moments of your lives and the knowledge that I will never get those moments back, I am genuinely happy to hear that you have created what sounds like a very happy and normal life for yourselves and your little munchkins.

 I hope these items will be a small token of my good wishes for you. I’m glad you two knuckleheads finally got yourselves sorted out.

 Yours truly,

Gordon Meredith Enver

 Kurt read the note a couple of times before glancing back into the cardboard box.

 “Honey?” Jane asked quietly, reaching out and brushing an invisible piece of lint off his tie.

 “Yeah?” he asked, distracted, still not sure what to make of all this or what do to with their new gifts.

 He could hear both Charlie and Eden squealing with delight at their new toys. He knew he couldn’t take them away now.

 “Well...” Jane paused, unsure if she should continue.

 “What is it?” he asked, bringing his attention back to her.

 “It’s just...wasn’t Rich in FBI custody all day today?”

 Kurt laughed and shook his head in disbelief.  He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips, resting his hands on her belly as she giggled with him.

 “I guess he still has a few tricks up his sleeve, after all.”