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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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Stellantis wants to make scabbing woke

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

I know, I know, it's weird when the worst people you know are right, even when they're right for the wrong reasons: like, the "Intelligence Community" is genuinely terrible, pharma companies are murderous crooks, and Big Tech really does have a dangerous grip on public debate. The swivel-eyed loons have a point, is what I'm saying:

https://locusmag.com/2023/05/commentary-cory-doctorow-the-swivel-eyed-loons-have-a-point/

When conspiratorialists and reactionaries holler about how the FBI are dirty-tricking creeps who are framing Trump, it's tempting to say, "well, if Trumpists hate the FBI, then I will love the FBI. Who cares about COINTELPRO and what they did to Martin Luther King?"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FBI%E2%80%93King_suicide_letter

It's a process called "schizmogenesis": forming new group identity beliefs based on saying the opposite of what your enemies say, and as tempting as that is, it's extraordinarily foolish and dangerous:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/18/schizmogenesis/

It means that canny reactionaries like Steve Bannon can trick you into taking any position merely by taking the opposite one. Bannon's followers are even more easily led, so it's easy for him to convince them that we have always been at war with Oceania. The right has created an entire mirror world of "I know you are but what am I?" politics.

Anti-vax co-opts "bodily autonomy." Climate denial becomes environmentalism ("wind turbines kill birds"). Transphobia becomes feminism ("keep women-only spaces for real women"). Support for strongmen becomes anti-imperialism ("don't feed the war machine in Ukraine"). These are the doppelgangers Naomi Klein warns us against:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

The far right has even managed to co-opt anti-corporate rhetoric. Culture warriors rail against "woke capitalism," insisting that when big businesses take socially progressive positions, it's just empty "virtue signalling." And you know what? They've got a point. Partially.

As with all mirror-world politics, the anti-woke-capitalism shuck is designed to convince low-information right-wing pismires into buying "anti-woke pillows" and demanding the right to pay junk fees to "own the libs":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

But woke capitalism is bullshit. Corporations – profit-maximizing immortal transhuman colony organisms that view workers and customers as inconvenient gut-flora – do not care about social justice. They don't care about anything, except for minimizing compensation for workers while maximizing the risk those workers bear; and locking in and gouging customers for products that are as low-quality as can be profitably sold.

Take DEI, a favored target of the right. It's undoubtably true that diversity, inclusion and equity initiatives have made some inroads on correcting bias in hiring decisions, with the result that companies get better employees who would have been excluded without this explicit corrective.

However, corporations don't value DEI because they abhor their history of hiring bias. Instead, DEI is how corporate management demonstrates to workers that their grievances are best addressed by trusting corporate leadership to correct their error of their ways – and not by forming a union.

Before the passage of the National Labor Relations Act in 1935, corporations would create fake "Company Unions" whose leadership were beholden to the company executives. These were decoy unions: they looked and sounded like unions, but when they negotiated with management, they were actually working for the bosses, not the workers.

This is more mirror-world tactics. They're the labor equivalent of the "crisis pregnancy centers" that masquerade as abortion clinics in order to fool pregnant people and trap them with endless delays until it's too late to terminate their pregnancies. Company unions get workers to trust in negotiators who are secretly working for the bosses, who emerge from the bargaining table with one-sided, abusive contracts and insist that this is the best deal workers can hope for.

Company unions were outlawed 90 years ago, and for decades, labor had a seat at the table, with wages tracking productivity gains and workers getting protection for discrimination, unsafe labor conditions, and wage-theft. Then came the neoliberal turn, and 40 years of wage stagnation, increased inequality, and corporate rule.

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. Finally, finally, we have reached a turning point in labor, with public approval for unions at levels not seen since the Carter administration and thousands of strikes and protests breaking out across the country:

https://striketracker.ilr.cornell.edu/

It's not just the Writers Guild and SAG-AFTRA, either. For the first time in history, the UAW is striking against all the major automakers, and they are winning:

https://arstechnica.com/cars/2023/10/striking-uaw-workers-win-key-battery-plant-concession-from-general-motors/

The automakers are getting desperate. Stellantis – Chrysler's latest alias, reflecting the company's absorbtion into corporate-human-centipede of global carmakers – has mobilized its DEI programs, trying to get marginalized people to believe that scabbing is a liberatory activity:

https://theintercept.com/2023/10/10/uaw-auto-strike-stellantis/

Stellantis calls each of its DEI silos a "Business Resource Group" (BRG): there's a "Working Parents Network," an "African Ancestry Network," "Asians Connected Together," a "DiverseAbilities Network," a "Gay & Lesbian Alliance" and more:

https://blog.stellantisnorthamerica.com/2021/07/20/business-resource-groups-drive-inclusion-and-diversity/

The corporate managers who lead these BRGs have established a scab rotation for each subgroup, calling on members to cross a UAW picket-line at a Michigan Parts Distribution Center run by Stellantis subsidiary Mopar:

Each BRG will pick a specific day of the week/weekend to volunteer as a team. Help continue to be the RESOURCE the BUSINESS can count on! Stellantis needs your help in running the Parts Distribution Centers (PDC) to ensure a steady supply of parts to our customers while negotiations continue. Working Parents Network has identified Friday, October 13 as WPN’s BRG Day at the PDCs!"

Now, these BRGs weren't invented by marginalized workers facing discrimination in the workplace. They come from literal union-busting playbooks produced by giant "union avoidance" firms that charge bosses millions for advice on skirting – or breaking – the law to keep workplace democracy at bay. All the biggest anti-union consultancies love BRGs, from Littler Mendelson to Jackson Lewis. IRI Strategies touts BRGs as a way to "union-proof" a business by absorbing workers' grievances in a decoy committee that will let them feel listened to.

BRGs, in other words, are the Crisis Pregnancy Centers of workplace discrimination. They're a Big Store Con, a company union dressed up as corporate social responsibility.

Now, let's not pretend that unions have a sterling record on race and gender issues. Giant labor organizations like the AFL had to be dragged into racial integration, and trade unions have sometimes been on the wrong side of anti-immigration panics:

https://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/1997/summer/american-labor-movement.html

But unions have also been the most reliable way for people of color and women to win better workplace treatment. The struggle for racial and gender justice was fought through labor organizing. Remember that MLK's "I've Been To the Mountaintop" speech was given in support of striking sanitation workers in Memphis:

https://www.afscme.org/about/history/mlk/mountaintop

Black organizers have always been militant labor organizers. Labor Day commemorates the victory of the long, hard-fought Pullman strike, where Black workers brought one of the most powerful companies in America to its knees:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pullman_Strike

And women have always fought for gender justice through the labor movement: the New York shirtwaist strike is the Ur-example, when women-led unions fought thugs and scabs on icy New York streets:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_York_shirtwaist_strike_of_1909

It's no surprise that labor activism, anti-racism and feminism go together. Since the earliest days, the labor justice struggle was also a social justice struggle. To learn more check out Kim Kelly's Fight Like Hell: The Untold History of American Labor:

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

The most exploited, underpaid, and abused workers in America are also the most marginalized (duh).

From nurses:

https://www.reuters.com/business/healthcare-pharmaceuticals/kaiser-healthcare-union-says-week-long-strike-possible-early-next-month-2023-10-09/

To teachers:

https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2023-04-18/l-a-teachers-win-21-wage-increase-in-new-lausd-contract

To Amazon warehouse workers:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazon_Labor_Union

To publishing assistants:

https://apnews.com/article/harpercollins-union-strike-ends-0a94238718879066d9b21af6266be526

To baristas:

https://www.cnn.com/2023/09/29/business/starbucks-union-wages/index.html

To fast-food workers:

https://www.ufcw.org/about/

The vanguard of today's labor surge is Black, brown, female and queer. Without a union, workers who face discrimination are on their own, hoping that their bosses will voluntarily do something about it. Black workers in Tesla's rabidly anti-union shops face vicious racism, from slurs to threats to violence. Without a union, they have to rely on the shifting whims of an Apartheid emerald mine space-Karen for relief, or hope for help from the NLRB or a class-action lawyer:

https://apnews.com/article/tesla-racism-black-lawsuit-class-action-21c88bddf60eca702560be58429495de

The far right isn't wrong when they holler that woke capitalism is bullshit. As with so many of their mirror-world causes, they've got a point, but only a limited one. The problem with woke capitalism is that it's no substitute for a union. The problem with relying on Business Resource Groups to fight racism, sexism, homophobia and transphobia is that these struggles are all class struggles, and a BRG is never going to fight against the company that created it.

To understand how bankrupt woke capitalism is, conside this: Stellantis is calling on its "Working Parents Network" to scab this Friday. Stellantis is also being sanctioned by the Department Of Labor for discriminating against nursing mothers – the same "working parents" that the BRG is meant to protect:

https://www.clickondetroit.com/news/local/2023/02/08/investigation-finds-stellantis-violated-rights-of-nursing-mothers-at-sterling-heights-plant/

Woke capitalism is just another kind of "predatory inclusion," like Intuit's campaign defending its "Free File" tax-prep scam, where they're claiming that ending this ripoff is racist because it denies Black families the right to be tricked into paying for something they are entitled to get for free:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/27/predatory-inclusion/#equal-opportunity-scammers

When I learned about Intuit's wokewashing, I thought I'd found woke capitalism's rock bottom, but I was wrong. Stellantis's call for woke scabbing is a new low.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/11/equal-opportunity-class-war/#inclusive-scabbing

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

#pluralistic #race #gender #uaw #stellantis #gm #general motors #woke capitalism #wokewashing #strikes #labor #liberalism #company unions

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digital-marketing-institutions · 24 days ago

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luxekook · 4 years ago

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okay, bloomer ❃ myg

❃ pairing: floral assistant/rapper!yoongi x reader

❃ genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, slight crack, light angst and smut

❃ summary: spin-off sequel to ‘petal to the metal’; in which the reader visits a flower shop on her way home from work to treat herself to a flower and then keeps returning just to interact with the shop’s cute tsundere floral assistant. the last thing she expects is to see him ~spitting hot fire~ and looking hot as sin at her friend’s music event. how is she supposed to get flowers in peace now?

❃ word count: 10.2k

❃ warnings: 18+, cursing, violent imagery, mansplaining, tattooed and pierced yoongi, jealousy, mention of drinking, lots of sass, yoongi is soft as hell, rapping, jungkook being an idiot, smut [biting, blindfolding, bondage, sensory play, oral (f + m receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT), slight dom/sub themes, yoongi and reader are swiches, dirty talk, workplace sex]

❃ beta’d by: the amazing and gorgeous phia @meowxyoong

❃ banner by: the iconic and beautiful danica @dee-ehn

❃ commissioned by: my angel bby sweetheart jess @floralsuga UWU ILY AND I HOPE U LOVE THIS YOONGI AS MUCH AS I DO!!!!

The first time you enter the flower shop, it’s on a whim after a particularly bad day at work. You stomp down the street towards your apartment stewing over how Darryl can go screw himself as far as you are concerned. You almost flipped your desk today after the fifth time he tried to explain your own job to you.

It’s like you haven’t been working at the graphic design firm for over three years and know all there is to know about typography and how it reads on book covers. You knew the moment your boss paired you with Darryl for this assignment, you were going to be in for a bumpy ride. You just didn’t expect the bumps to be of Mount Everest proportions.

You probably look crazy as you stalk down the block untethered in your rage, mumbling something about shoving your stylus so far up Darryl’s ass he’ll choke on your creativity.

Somehow you unconsciously turn your head to admire a display of flowers blooming in a shop window. The blooming bunches of color call to you like a beacon of light in the darkness. Fuck it, you are going to treat yourself.

You dart across the street, dodging traffic. You need a flower. You need something that will brighten your evening and remind you that there is still beauty on this earth after all that mansplaining. And it seems that Of Fern & Freesia Flower Co. will be your oasis of choice.

Squaring your shoulders, you push open the heavy wooden and glass door of the shop. The sound of a bell chimes in the air as you enter. A smile forms as you take in the array of greenery and petals surrounding you. The air smells like summer meadows and deep forests.

Wandering around, you realize that it’s going to be harder than you thought to pick just one flower to go home with. As you near the back of the shop, you notice the general shop counter with a cash register, a small jar, and an array of flowers scattered across the deep oak wood. It seems like someone is piecing together a bouquet.

“Can I help you?” A low, languid voice calls out to you. Slowly, a boy emerges from the back room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you. He’s of average height with lean muscle and tattoos winding up both arms. His ears glint with multiple piercings, his left eyebrow has an intimidating slice through it, and his hair is a messy array of silver with a sexy as hell undercut. Yet, despite all of that tough exterior, the second you look at his face you melt.

The boy has the cutest face you have ever seen. His cheeks are full and pink, his nose is the most adorable little button, his lips are a dusky shade of rose. He has the face of an angel wrapped in a sinful package. Honestly, it’s unfair.

After a few moments, you realize he seems to be waiting for you to speak. Slitted eyebrow arched, he stares at you, dark eyes flicking over your own body.

“I’m looking to get a flower, but I just don’t know which one to pick,” You sigh, eyes shifting to glance around the shop once more. “There are so many beautiful ones to choose from.”

“Well,” The boy murmurs, “Sometimes one beautiful flower just stands out from the rest.”

Your eyes return to him, finally noticing the name-tag haphazardly pinned to his apron. Yoongi. His name is Yoongi. “And do you know which flower stands out today?” You ask, hands gripping your work tote so that you don’t do anything embarrassing like squish his chubby cheeks between your palms.

“Without a doubt,” He quirks a small smile in your direction before walking around the counter. Without a word more, he wanders down the rows of flowers and stops at a particular bunch of blue blossoms. He carefully selects one flower from the bunch and extends it out to you.

You accept the flower, examining it closely. It’s beautiful indeed. Shooting a glance at the sign attached to the bucket the flower had originated from, you smile as you read the label of ‘rare blue-tinted orchids’ (rare and unique beauty).

Turning back to Yoongi, you realize he has already begun to walk back to the counter. Quickly, you follow in his footsteps, carefully holding your flower in one hand and digging through your bag to find your wallet with the other. Upon reaching the counter, you gently place your orchid down to finally retrieve your wallet from where it had been lurking at the very bottom of your tote.

“How much do I owe you?” You look up at Yoongi who had been staring at you with a peculiar expression on his face.

He just shrugs, fiddling with one of the many silver rings adorning his fingers, “Nothing. It’s on the house.”

“What?” You tilt your head in confusion, “But the sign said these are rare, so I’m sure it can’t be cheap.”

Again, Yoongi just lifts a shoulder lazily and shoots you a half smile, “I get an employee discount.”

“Oh,” Your eyes fall under his intense scrutiny. They land on the small jar sitting next to the register. It’s labeled with a sticky note that says: “Feed Yoongi’s Dumpling Addiction”.

“Dumplings, huh?” You grin at the cute boy and quickly grab ten dollars from your wallet, shoving the bill inside the jar.

“Hey!” Yoongi pouts, “That’s not fair.” His cheeks are shaded a bright pink, “You can’t use my weakness against me like this.”

“I just did!” You laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder and picking up your orchid once more. “Bye, Yoongi.”

You send him a wave and head back out into the night. You don’t realize he had stared out after you for quite some time with a small smile and a gleam in his eye. No, you are too busy picturing what it would be like to go get dumplings with a cute flower shop assistant.

The next day at work you bring your flower along with you. Your desk needs some life breathed into it, and your flower does just the trick. Plus, you can't help but smile each time you look at it.

And so when cursed Darryl waltzes over to you to talk about your project, you kindly tell him to fuck off. You know, in a safe for work fashion. You don’t need his bullshit or his bad vibes. Not when you can draw up romance novel cover designs with a certain boy in mind. It comes as no surprise to you as you realize later on that you had been drawing orchids woven throughout the book title.

The rest of the week passes by slowly as does the wilting of your flower. Yet on Thursday, your boss praises you for your flower designs, so much so that she decides to give you the company credit card to go buy a bouquet for the office as further inspiration. You tell her you know just the place.

Taking an extended lunch break, you trek over to Of Fern & Freesia. Stepping through its doors brings an immediate smile to your face. You glance around, noticing a few other customers scattered throughout the shop. No sign of Yoongi.

You weave your way around the rows of flowers and the patrons that dot the aisles. A heavy feeling of disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach as you notice that there is a woman at the counter instead of the cute boy from a few days prior. The woman glances up as you approach, “Oh, hello! Welcome to Of Fern & Freesia. How may I help you?”

“Hi, yes,” You shoot a furtive glance around, “I was hoping that you could recommend a bouquet?”

“Hm,” She nods, “Of course! What’s the occasion?”

“It’s just for my office,” You explain, “We need some inspiration, and flowers seem to have helped lately.”

“I see,” She smiles, “Well, let me ask you if—”

“Hey, boss lady! Do you know what happened to the lace ribbons? I can’t find— Oh,” Yoongi halts as he emerges from the back room and lays eyes on you. “Hello,” He mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

The woman helping you looks at Yoongi and then looks back at you and then looks at Yoongi again. A sly smile forms on her lips, “Well, well, well. Why don’t I go look for those lace ribbons while you help this customer here.” She turns to you, “My very best employee will be sure to take excellent care of you.”

Chuckling slightly, she disappears through the door that Yoongi had vacated a minute before.

“I’m your only employee!” Yoongi calls after her, the small smile on his face betraying his complaint. Still grinning slightly, he turns his brown eyes back to you, “Hello again…” He pauses, clearly waiting for you to fill in the unspoken blank.

“(Y/n),” You extend a hand out tentatively, “And you’re Yoongi.”

“That I am,” Yoongi smirks and takes your hand in his. You glance down at your clasped hands and marvel at how his hand fully engulfs yours. The heat of his palm burns into you while the coolness of his many rings makes you shiver. Eventually, you let go, certain your cheeks are as red as the display of roses to your left.

“Well, what can I do for you, (y/n)? Back for another flower?” His eyes flit around the shop briefly before returning to yours.

“A bouquet, actually,” You smile, “For the office. On the office.” You flash the company card that your boss had given you, and your stomach flips as he laughs – his dark eyes crinkling and his gums showing adorably.

“Didn’t picture you working in an office,” He mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as his tongue pokes his cheek.

“Oh, so you’ve been picturing me, then?” You tease and internally sigh as he blushes fiercely, turning away from you.

“Yah, you know what I meant,” Yoongi scowls without any real menace, “You seem like you do something - I don't know - weird.”

You stare at him a moment and then burst into laughter. Yoongi pouts as you continue to crack up over his brazen observation. “I mean I guess designing romance novel covers isn’t the most conventional job, but it pays the bills and it’s pretty fun.”

“Romance novels?” Yoongi widens his eyes comically, “Don’t say that around the boss lady, she’s obsessed with them.”

“I heard that,” A yell sounds from the back room, “And I’m demoting you!”

“I’m demoted just by being associated with you!” Yoongi calls back.

You think you hear his boss mutter something about shoving a branch of redbud (betrayal) up Yoongi’s ass but you can’t be sure. Yoongi walks around the counter to lead you around the shop.

“What are you looking for, (y/n)?” His gaze is heated as it rests on you, and you bask in its glory.

“I’m good with whatever you recommend,” You shrug, “I’m in your hands.”

“Not yet,” Yoongi mutters under his breath; and before you can question that remark, he stalks off down an aisle, practically mowing down innocent shoppers. You trail after him, watching as he seems to be picking flowers at random. However, once he brings them all up front to arrange them, the flowers combine effortlessly into a beautiful bouquet.

“Wow,” You say softly, admiring the colorful arrangement before you, “This is beautiful, Yoongi. What kind of flowers are they?”

Yoongi rapidly fires off a number of flowers, most of which you had never even heard of before: honeysuckle and alstroemeria flowers (devotion), lilies of the valley (return of happiness), and petunias (your presence soothes me).

As you hand him the company card to ring up your purchase, you notice a stray flower set aside from the bunch. “That one didn’t fit with the rest?” You joke, pointing to the multi-petaled pink flower.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Obviously not, (y/n). That one is for you.”

You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched giggle, “Well, excuse me for not being an expert, flower boy.”

He groans at the nickname, shaking his head in disgust. But, you see his lips twitching. God, he is so cute. You almost don’t even know how you had been intimidated by him at first. Even his tattoos and piercings are endearing to you now. You see them as a layer of protection he has in order to protect his soft heart.

Yeah, you are fucking whipped.

In an attempt to distract yourself from your growing infatuation, you glance down. The tip jar catches your attention, and you grin immediately as you read today’s inscription: “Yoongi’s Nap Fund: One Dollar = One Nap”.

“Don’t even think about it,” Yoongi warns, but it’s too late. You shove another ten dollar bill inside.

“Goddamn you,” Yoongi sighs, and the way he says it sounds like a confession. And you are so losing your marbles. And your job. You catch sight of the clock hanging on the back wall, and you are so, so late to get back to the office.

Cursing softly, you grab the bouquet and accept the flower Yoongi extends out to you, “Thanks, flower boy. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

With that, you rush out the door, pulling a full Yoongi as you ruthlessly storm past customers on your way out. You unknowingly leave Yoongi in your dust, staring at you with what can only be affection.

When you get home after your shift later that night, you quickly put your new flower in a mason jar with water and admire its beauty. After a quick google search, you identify the flower as a camellia.

You fail to read further. But, if you had, you would have discovered the meaning of the flower Yoongi had gifted to you… My destiny is in your hands.

The next few weeks pass in a flurry of flowers - each prettier than the last. But that could just be the rose-tinted glasses you’ve been walking around with ever since you met Yoongi. You had visited Of Fern & Freesia such an embarrassing amount of times that you figured you should have a frequent flyer card.

But, who in their right mind could blame you when men like Min Yoongi exist? That’s right, you are on a full name basis now courtesy of one of Yoongi’s latest tip jars: “Support Min Yoongi in purchasing an off button for Jeon Jungkook”.

With every visit came a new flower and a new post-it note on his tip jar. For instance, last Monday Yoongi gave you two stock flowers (you will always be beautiful to me), to which you immediately clowned him on for buying you stocks. He had just shaken his head at you - a common reaction from Yoongi that you had been on the receiving end of too many times to count. On that day, you had shoved a twenty dollar bill in the jar labeled: “New headphones for Yoongi’s silent, sad and lonely ears”.

This Tuesday you had arrived at the shop right at closing. Your job had required you to stay for a late meeting because Darryl had fucked something up with his latest project. It’s honestly a wonder how he hasn’t been fired yet. After the meeting ended, you had practically run out of the office to make it to see Yoongi in time. When you stepped into the shop, you had been greeted with a growly yell of “We’re closed! Get lost!” And then when Yoongi came storming towards the front, he’d skittered to a halt, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words.

You had just shyly waved like an idiot and then had turned to leave, only to be tugged back inside by Yoongi. “Come on,” He had said lowly, seeming quite exasperated with you, “I have your fix.” He had held your wrist all the way up to the counter as you blushed profusely behind him. He had handed you a zinnia (I mourn your absence), and you had added a couple five dollar bills to his jar simply entitled: “Do it. You won’t.”

And, finally, yesterday you had made sure to visit on time, clocking out of work at 5:00PM exactly. Your boss had even asked if you had a hot date. God, you had fucking wished. In all your hurry to get over to Of Fern & Freesia, you had forgotten one important piece of information that had been made crystal clear the moment Yoongi had locked eyes on you - you needed to do laundry.

Now, this might seem like an odd and offhand comment, but it meant that you had been wearing your more formal work clothes out of necessity. A form fitting pencil skirt with a tucked in button up blouse - both of which were on the tighter side from not being worn enough - paired with your favorite stilettoed ankle boots had been your outfit of choice and your last resort.

You had clicked and clacked your way up to the counter and had almost turned right back around at the look Yoongi had given you. His eyes had been the darkest you’d ever seen. You hadn’t quite been able to read the storm of emotions within them. Had it been anger? Annoyance? Attraction?

God, you had prayed it was the last.

When you had made it to Yoongi, he had let out a harsh breath before turning away from you for a moment. “Hey, flower boy,” You had said tentatively, “Are you okay?”

“I’m just peachy,” He had muttered, slamming down a few flowers on the counter.

“O-o-okay,” You had responded, drawing out the word. You had stared quizzically at Yoongi as he fiddled with his rings, looking more on edge than you had ever seen him before. His eyes had flicked over your body, and then finally he had met your eyes.

“Sorry,” He had grumbled out, “You just caught me off guard. These are for you.”

As Yoongi had gathered the flowers he had slammed down on the counter, you had realized you still had your hair up and fastened with your stylus. Tugging it out of your hair, you had tousled your hair with your fingers for a bit and then had shoved the stylus in your bag. You had thought you had heard Yoongi choke slightly, but your ears surely had been playing tricks on you.

You had grinned at him as you grabbed the flowers from his outstretched hands and then tucked a twenty in his tip jar inscripted with: “Help Yoongi endure Kim Seokjin’s presence for three hours.”

Later that night, you had realized that you really should have brushed up on your flower knowledge sooner because apparently the flowers he had given you were peach blossoms (I am your captive). While their meaning is still unbeknownst to you, you now appreciate the pun wholeheartedly.

You had even tried to see him tonight, but he hadn’t been working for some reason. It’s hard not to assume the worst. Is he on a date? Oh god, has he had a girlfriend this whole time? A boyfriend? A partner? You almost call up your friend Jackson to cancel on his music event because all you want to do is sit down on your couch with the two men who will never let you down - Ben and Jerry.

But, you can't.

Jackson would hunt you down and drag you there himself if he had to. He had done that very thing when you tried to bail on his last party. It hadn’t been your fault that you considered a midweek celebration of his five point increase on his credit score to be extra as hell. But that is just Jackson, and you adore him for it.

You met Jackson through your job. He sometimes models for the book covers that your company produces; because, let’s be real, Jackson is a whole snack. Unfortunately, you seem to be attracted to boys on the surlier side as opposed to those on the sunshine side of the spectrum.

Therefore, you and Jackson are great friends, and he brings out (READ: forces out) your more social side. Tonight, he is MCing a local music show at one of the bars downtown. It’s apparently some sort of open mic night. You just hope your ears are all in one piece when you return home.

The bar is crowded as hell as you slip through its doors. The entire back area has been converted into a stage, and you notice Jackson getting ready to begin MCing. Of course, he spots you immediately, waving incessantly. You can’t help but smile back widely and wave.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you luckily spy a free barstool with a decent view of the stage. Quickly claiming it as yours, you order a beer and settle in for the night. Your eyes drift across the crowd, seeing some familiar faces of musicians you had seen before at events like this.

You even think you see the woman from Of Fern & Freesia in the back corner, but that’s probably just your brain playing tricks on you. Your attention is brought back to the stage as Jackson begins to announce the general lineup for the night and then the first performer.

As you listen to the first performance, your heart aches. The musician’s ballad is slow and soulful, its lyrics deep and jarring. What you wouldn't give to feel a love like that, too feel so deeply for another person and to have that returned unconditionally. Again, your mind turns to the damned flower boy who has been ruling your thoughts lately. And as the song ends, you clap along with the crowd like you hadn’t just planned out your entire future with a boy you had met just a handful of times.

You watch as Jackson introduces the next performance - some group called ‘Bangtan’ featuring some dude named ‘Suga’. What kind of name is that? A stage name, you hope.

Five boys jump onto the stage, and the crowd goes fucking wild. As you assess the boys with your own two eyes, you see the hype. They’re hot as fuck.

Their performance begins with two of the boys singing. Your eyebrows raise as their sweet voices grace your ears. You almost fall into a sense of security as their vocals envelop you. And then the rapping begins.

Your jaw drops all the way down to the pits of Hades as you take in the sight of what can only be Yoongi, your sweet fucking flower boy, spitting crazy hot fire alongside two other beautiful boys. Had you somehow eaten an edible unknowingly on your way over here? Have you teleported into an alternate universe? Have you travelled into another dimension? Have you fallen into the fucking upside down?

God, he looks so fine. In all the times in the flower shop, you had only seen him in plain t-shirts, black jeans, and an apron. Therefore, your mind is fucking blown at the way Yoongi is wearing the shit out of a long white t-shirt, ripped blue jeans, a white and silver jacket, and silver chains.

The boy is sauntering around the stage like he fucking owns it, all cocky and brash. Your attention is riveted by the sheer talent before you, but your sanity is in shambles. He drags a hand through his messy hair and his undercut peeks out from underneath. Damn, that hairstyle suits him well.

It seems the performance is over both too soon and not soon enough. And when Yoongi stays on stage all by himself, you silently pray to any higher power out there that you survive this. The low sound of the bass fills the bar as Yoongi lazily nods to the opening beats of whatever he plans on performing.

Almost by fate, Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. They widen as they take you in, and you are absolutely certain you also resemble an owl as you stare back. Like the dork that you are, you lift your beer up in a silent toast to him, and your stomach flips as his lips quirk.

And then he starts. You cannot look away. Somehow Yoongi rapping solo is just as good as the previous performance with the four others. It might even be better; but, then again, you are insanely biased at this point.

As he performs, you lose the ability to speak, to cheer alongside the crowd. The way Yoongi commands the stage with his words, his presence, his talent is quite possibly the sexiest thing you have ever seen. The looks he sends you definitely don’t help. You might actually melt into a puddle on this very floor.

And you nearly do as Yoongi’s song ends and he sends you a wink as he hops off stage. God, you need to get it together before you track the boy down, tug him to you by his silver chains, and kiss the hell out of him and his talented mouth.

Yeah, you need to leave ASAP. Shooting Jackson a text, you leave a twenty on the bar and haul ass out of there.

How are you supposed to face Yoongi after this? You can’t even pretend it didn’t happen because he had seen you. If you don’t go back to the shop, he might think you hated his performance. But, if you do go back to the shop, you’ll have to face the boy who had destroyed your ovaries on stage in front of multiple dozens of people.

Lord, you are so fucking screwed.

Saturday and Sunday pass with many more existential breakdowns; and by the time Monday arrives, you decide that - fuck it - you are going to do some recon.

You email your boss that you are running a bit late and head over to the flower shop. It is barely 9:00AM when you strut through the doors.

The woman you had seen once before startles as you burst in, “Oh hey, it’s you! Um, Yoongi doesn’t work until later.”

You swear you turn fifty shades of maroon, “I-I know.”

She also blushes, “Right, sorry. I haven’t had my coffee yet. How can I help you? Another bouquet?”

Before you can answer her, a boy bounds through the door holding two steaming coffee cups. He looks eerily familiar, but you can't quite place where you have seen him before.

“Morning, noona!” The boy beams at the woman, and then belatedly realizes you are also there. “Aish, sorry!” You gape as he somehow becomes small, huddling by his ‘noona’. “I didn’t realize you had a customer already.”

“That’s alright, Jungkookie,” She smiles at the admittedly cute boy who is now scrutinizing you for some reason.

“Aha!” Jungkook snaps his fingers, “I know you! You’re Yoongi-hyung’s g—”

The woman grabs Jungkook’s ear before he can continue, “Ignore him. Please.” She shoots the boy a dark look that sends him pouting.

You try your best, but the words are already flying through your mind. Yoongi-hyung’s girl? His girl insert-space-here friend? His gremlin? His goddess divine? His fucking Go-Gurt?

The possibilities are too endless; and so you pull a Spongebob and burn the memory from your brain for the sake of your rationality. You quickly grab the first flower you see - a love-in-a-mist (perplexity) - and pay for it before jetting out the door.

Your feelings? Unstable.

Your recon mission? Unsuccessful.

Your inevitable face-off with Yoongi? Unavoidable.

“I heard you came by yesterday morning.”

You nearly jump out of your skin, barely having crossed the threshold of the flower shop before Yoongi slides right in front of you. “Holy sweet mother of god, Yoongi! Have you been lurking by the door just to scare me like this?”

Yoongi’s gaze darts around, decidedly not looking at you. “No?” He tries. You don’t let him succeed.

“Oh, really...” You arch an eyebrow and try to step around him, but Yoongi just matches your movements - effectively blocking you from advancing further.

“Stop trying to distract me,” He growls. His frown is admittedly cute instead of intimidating in the way he probably intends. “Why did you visit yesterday morning instead of last night?”

It’s your turn to avoid eye contact as you look for any possible avenue for escape. Yoongi gives you no room to budge or even any time to answer as he continues to question you. “Could it be…” He leans closer to you, “That you didn’t like what you saw on Friday?”

Your heart stutters in your chest as Yoongi grows closer still, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, “Or maybe… it’s that you did like it.”

Before you risk it all and pounce on him while he’s working, you pull a spin move around Yoongi that would even make Lebron proud. Trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, you power-walk away from him, calling over your shoulder, “Yes, I liked it, okay? God.”

You weave your way between the shelves of flowers with Yoongi trailing your every move. That little shit is relentless in his pursuit. You shoot him an evil eye between two buckets of flowers that he steadfastly ignores, “What did you like about it?” Yoongi grins widely, “Come on, tell me. Tell me. Just tell me, tell me, tell m—” You round the aisle he is on and clamp a hand over his mouth.

“Min Yoongi, for the love of reese’s peanut butter cups, shut your mouth.” Your glare strengthens as you can just tell he’s smirking underneath your hand. It’s difficult to ignore the plushness of his lips pressed against your palm. Did he just lick his lips? With your palm over them?

“I liked the collaboration you did with Jungkook and the other boys,” You shoot back at him, desperate to take him down a peg, “It was cute.” With a victorious smile at his darkening expression, you tug your hand away and turn to walk away. But déjà vu strikes as Yoongi’s hand envelops your wrist.

He pulls you back into his chest as he leans down. You can feel his words flow from his chest as he murmurs, “Oh really? And did you know that Jungkook is happily in a relationship? What a bummer.”

“Uh, I don’t recall asking,” You retort, “But that’s great for Jungkook. Should I send him a card in congratulations?”

“Fuck, you are so frustrating,” Yoongi groans and lets out an exasperated laugh, “Are you really going to make me ask?”

“Undoubtedly,” You grin like the menace you are.

Sighing, Yoongi presses closer to you. “(Y/n),” His lips brush against your ear, “What did you like about me?”

The way that Yoongi’s scent wraps around you, the way his lips move against your skin, the way his words drip with sensual intent makes you cave almost immediately. “Well, you had some fire bars, bro,” You blurt out.

He stills for a second and then a laugh bubbles up from his chest. You pout as he doubles over, clutching his stomach.

“Hey,” You complain, “I thought that’s what all the youngsters are calling it these days.”

Yoongi laughs harder, “Oh my god, please stop. I’m going to break a rib from laughing too hard.”

You sniff, “Well, consider that the first and last compliment you will get from me. Ever.”

That shuts him up real quick. “Aw, babe,” He whines, following you as you move towards the counter in the back of the shop. Thank god there are no other customers to witness your complete degeneration into Min Yoongi Trash™.

You slouch against the counter as you reach it, turning to face him. “Don’t ‘aw, babe’ me, babe. Now, get me my flower.”

Your sass does nothing but bring a smile to Yoongi’s face, and your frown deepens.

“I know just the thing,” He smirks.

You don’t trust it. At all.

Yoongi goes behind the counter and grabs a little potted flower from behind the register. He pushes it over to your side slowly. “It’s a potato vine flower (you are delicious),” He says, like that explains everything. “It reminds me of you.”

You gape at the admittedly pretty triad of flowers intertwined together in the small silver pot. “A flower with potato in its name reminds you of me?” Your eyes narrow down into slits as you stare at him.

“Those are the words that came out of my mouth, yes.” His lips quirk at your growing ire.

“Hmph,” You turn up your nose, “Well, I will take it as a compliment. Potatoes are great, versatile, and goddamn tasty.”

“Indeed,” Yoongi smiles, running a hand through his hair. The rings adorning his fingers glisten under the shop’s lights, and you cannot help but follow his hands as they once again return to his sides.

You can feel your face warming as indecent thoughts of his hands on you fly through your brain. As your gaze remains lowered, it falls upon the tip jar. Today, it reads: “Help Yoongi fulfill his dream… of doing absolutely nothing”.

Before Yoongi can stop you, you shove a twenty into the jar. “Thanks for the potato plant, Yoongi,” You try to hide your smile as he - as predicted - gets into a huff over your incorrect identification.

“It’s a potato vine flower!” He yells after you as you walk away, “You know that, right? It’s important to me that you know that!”

“Po-tay-to, po-tat-oh,” You call back to him, laughing as you ignore his groan of protest. Provoking Yoongi might just become your new favorite hobby.

Work consumes your next few days and prevents you from visiting your lovely little flower boy. Obviously, that has contributed to your mood taking a turn for the worse. But, it’s also done a steep nosedive because fucking Darryl is back at it again with his misogyny. You really shouldn't be surprised at this point, but here you are, surrounded by cleaning supplies, one concerned model, and one indifferent photographer.

Your joint project is culminating tomorrow - book cover proposal for one of the industry’s top romance authors. The one job, the one fucking job, you had given Darryl was to buy props. And guess what Darryl had gotten? Fucking mops.

“I thought you just wanted to clean or some shit,” He had said and then had the nerve to shrug.

Oh, you are going to clean alright. Clean him right out of his office, you will. Using him as the broom you personally sweep the floor with.

Now, your cover model Jinyoung is here, and there is nothing to make this shoot interesting. Jinyoung, one of Jackson’s close friends and fellow model, awkwardly tries to comfort you as you stew in your rage in the corner of the studio.

“What are we going to do?” You cry for the tenth time, getting ready to either burst into tears or to burn the building to the ground. At least Darryl had made himself scarce ever since you tore into his ass for a solid fifteen minutes. Honestly, that had been the highlight of your day.

“Are there any props around here?” Jinyoung suggests. You look around the studio only to find the photographer Mina scrolling through her phone and an assortment of lighting fixtures against the white backdrop. Suddenly, your gaze snaps back to Mina - more specifically to her floral patterned shirt.

“Come with me,” You grab Jinyoung’s hand and tug him out the door, “Mina, I’ll be back in ten!”

The photographer sends a thumbs up, and you and Jinyoung are on your way. “Where are we going?” He chuckles as you keep tugging him along out of the building and down the street.

“We are going to improvise,” You grit out as you stomp towards your destination, hand still grasping Jinyoung’s tightly. Finally, you arrive at Of Fern and Freesia. “We’re getting flowers,” You declare and enter the shop with Jinyoung in tow.

“Alright then,” He mutters, probably thinking that he doesn't get paid enough for this. And honestly neither do you - especially when you lock eyes with Min Yoongi and his face looks like thunder. You become hyper-aware that you are still clutching onto Jinyoung as Yoongi’s eyes fall to focus on your clasped hands. His jaw tightens.

And then his expression clears like nothing had even happened.

Your heart beats fast in your chest as you watch as Yoongi turns and walks into the back room of the shop without a backwards glance.

Had that been a display of jealousy just now? It could not have been. Nope.

You shove this whole thing aside. You aren’t Yoongi’s anything. Just like he isn’t yours.

You clasp Jinyoung’s hand tighter as you haul him towards a selection of roses. “What do you think of any of these?” You ask Jinyoung and point to the different colored roses.

“Uh, they’re nice,” Jinyoung doesn’t seem too committed to your search, but you pay that no mind. You have one goal: do not get fired. Actually, no. You have a second goal: get Darryl fired.

You pluck a red rose (love) and a burgundy rose (unconscious beauty) out of their respective buckets. Holding them up next to Jinyoung, you try to envision the book cover. But instead of seeing Jinyoung with rose petals raining down around him, you see Yoongi sprawled out across your bed with petals scattered around him.

Not the time, (y/n)!

Oh, god. The time!

You quickly grab the entire bucket of red roses and gesture for Jinyoung to grab the burgundy rose bucket. “We’ll get both and figure it out later,” You say, moving onwards towards the counter. Jinyoung follows you obediently.

When you make it to the counter, you both plop the buckets down.

“Couldn’t have just one, huh?”

You and Jinyoung jump as Yoongi appears from behind you as he rounds the counter.

“Had to take them both?” He continues, his expressionless face is worrisome. But, you do not have the time to analyze it or his confusing words right now.

“Uh, yeah? Yoongi, listen, we’re really late, and I need to pay quickly. I can explain later. Please.”

Your voice cracks on your last word, and Yoongi’s blank expression softens slightly as he sighs, “Okay, (y/n).” He accepts your credit card that you have outstretched to him and rings your flowers up.

“Thank you, Yoongi. You’re a lifesaver,” You say in a tiny voice, going to grab your wallet when you realize you don’t actually have cash on you right now. You’ll have to come back later.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Jinyoung says, giving Yoongi that classic headnod that ‘bros’ do.

Yoongi shoots Jinyoung one of the iciest glares you have ever seen; and yet, somehow, Jinyoung just smiles without a care.

“You’re welcome, (y/n),” Yoongi replies, handing you back your card along with the receipt. “Oh, I also have flowers for you - for both of you.” He snags two different flowers from the shelf behind the counter and holds one out to each of you.

You accept the pretty white flower which Yoongi calls a polyanthus lily (pleasures that inevitably cause pain), while Jinyoung gingerly accepts a cluster of smaller yellow flowers. Yoongi smugly declares them to be tansies (I declare war against you).

Thanking Yoongi again, you rush out of the shop with a bucket of roses in your hands and a model hot on your heels. You have a shoot to save and a bone to pick. It is time to get shit done.

Seven exhausting hours later, you emerge from your workplace with a sense of bitter accomplishment. Your shoot with Jinyoung had gone as well as it could have given the circumstances.

You and Mina had gotten as creative as you could have with the hundred roses you had bought from Of Fern & Freesia. You had showered Jinyoung in rose petals, you had made him place a rose between his teeth, and you had him extend one flower out like the Bachelor.

God, if you hadn’t been half in love with your flower boy you might have kissed Jinyoung for being such a good sport. Instead, you had settled for personally calling his agency to sing his praises and for making a note to send him a bonus.

Another win had come later this afternoon when you had been lucky enough to bear witness to Darryl’s termination. Your boss had been horrified to hear about Darryl’s fuckup and about all of the other bullshit he had put you through. As it turns out, she had already been keeping tabs on him for similar suspicions and this had been all the evidence she needed to seal the deal.

The look on Darryl’s face had been life changing. It had carried you through the last few hours of editing and arranging the final book cover proposal.

And so, finally, you drag your tired ass back to Of Fern & Freesia to both tip Yoongi for earlier and to give an explanation for the brevity of your afternoon visit. That is, if he is even still working at this hour. The shop is nearing its close, and you just hope you aren’t too late.

The bell chiming is the only sound that greets your ears as you enter the shop. The place is absent of the customers who usually roam around the aisles, examining flowers. Undeterred, you walk towards the back of the shop.

Yoongi is slouched over the counter, typing away furiously on his phone. He doesn’t look up as you approach as it seems he’s lost in his own virtual world.

“Paging florist Yoongi,” You call softly and smile as Yoongi is finally the one to get jumpy.

“Yah,” He cries, slapping a hand to his heart, “What are you trying to do, woman?”

“I’m trying to greet you, duh,” You roll your eyes, biting back a grin.

“All alone this time?” Yoongi sets his phone on the counter, turning his full attention - and sass - to you.

“Alone? Please,” You scoff, “My FBI agent is surely tailing me somewhere nearby.”

“There goes that mouth,” Yoongi mutters darkly, his eyes dropping to your lips for a split second. He leans closer to you over the counter, “Tell me, (y/n)... Does your boyfriend like it when you talk back like that, too? Or is that all that attitude just for me?”

You mirror his actions, leaning over the counter and bringing your face closer to his. “He would like it... If he existed.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly before narrowing, “Really? Then who was that boy you came in here with earlier? So you’re saying that you hold hands and buy flowers with just anyone?” His attention on you is hard and absolute, but you don’t flinch.

You lean closer, lips only an inch or two away from his. “Hm,” You say, in mock confusion, “I didn’t realize that the last Daylight Savings had shifted us all the way back to the 14th century. Oh, wait. It’s still 2020, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Before you can blink, Yoongi’s hands shoot out to cradle your face and his lips are on yours. A gasp slips between your lips, and Yoongi takes advantage of your shock to slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He pulls back slightly, his lips brushing yours as he mutters, “You are so goddamn infuriating. You walk around here looking like a fucking thirst trap when I have to be Professional Yoongi™, and then you say these absurd things that only make me want you more, and then you show up at my music show and almost make me forget every word I have ever known, and now the only melodies and lyrics that run through my brain relate to you, and so I am just losing my goddamn mind over you—”

You kiss him. “Shut up, you giant adorable idiot,” You mumble against his lips, “And for the record, I liked you first.”

Yoongi pulls away from you and shakes his head, “No way, babe. I’ve liked you since the moment I saw you standing at this counter for the first time last month.”

You cross your arms, “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve liked you since you walked out of that back room right there to help me for the first time last month. So, it looks like we’re even.”

“Even?” Yoongi grins, ducking down to pull something off the shelf below the counter. “That’s cute. But, I win,” He straightens, placing a bigger tip jar that you’ve never seen before onto the counter between you. Slowly, he turns it around so that the post-it note attached to it is displayed for you: “Cute girl (Y/n) and Yoongi’s Date Fund”.

“Wow, am I not cute anymore?” You joke, looking up at Yoongi who rolls his eyes.

“That was before I knew your name, babe, and (y/n) is too beautiful a name not to be written at every opportunity.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. Your cheeks flush traitorously as you smile, “You’re so full of shit, Min Yoongi.”

“Am not,” He argues, moving around the counter over to your side. Just when you think he’s trying to get closer to you, he moves past you.

“Where are you going?” You trail after him, pausing when you notice he’s pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. Your eyes widen to their full extent as you watch him lock up the shop and flip around the sign to read: “Closed”.

Yoongi turns back around. “Come here, (y/n),” He says, his voice deep, his lips tugging into a smirk.

You resort to your instinctual reaction whenever someone issues you an order, “Make me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Yoongi prowls towards you. You back up with every step he takes, and before you know it, your back is up against the counter. Yoongi’s arms cage you in on either side of your body. He’s so close. The heat from his body sears into you and you think you might just faint from proximity.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper as Yoongi’s head dips to place soft kisses along your neck.

“I want you,” He says without a pause or hesitation, “In any way you’ll give me.”

“And would I get you in return?” You sigh as Yoongi sucks lightly on the skin right below your ear.

You feel his smile before he answers, “Babe, you already have me.”

Your heart swells. He is yours. But in true (y/n) fashion you cannot help but to fuck with him further, “Ah, well that just disincentivizes giving myself to you. Since I already have you, why should I let you have me?”

Yoongi bites your neck lightly in response to your teasing, and you are too surprised to catch the moan before it winds its way out of your mouth. “Fuck, baby, I need to hear you make that sound again,” Yoongi growls, his hands gripping your thighs before lifting you onto the counter. “Let me have you,” He begs, pulling his head back to stare at you. His pupils are so blown out, and you are certain yours are the same way.

His hands are still gripping your thighs as you clench them together as best you can with Yoongi in between.

“Oh,” Yoongi murmurs, looking too pleased, “Is my baby desperate for my touch already?”

“Puh-lease,” You reply, “Don’t act like you aren’t hard as fuck right now, Min.”

“That’s besides the point. I’ve been hard for you since you walked in here in that tight as fuck skirt and those fucking heels,” Yoongi scowls. “And then you had the audacity to take your hair down like some sort of seductress. I had to jerk off like three times that night.”

“Oh,” You grin evilly, “You mean… like this?” You reach up to pull the pencil out of your topknot, successfully sending your hair tumbling down your shoulders. You shake your head slightly to help the strands settle and bask in Yoongi’s dark expression complete with clenched jaw.

“That’s it,” Yoongi’s hands slide under your thighs, and suddenly you are thrown over his shoulder.

“Yoongi!” You cry as he carries you into the back room of the shop.

“Shut it, you,” Yoongi spanks your ass once, and you let out a tiny squeak before you are set down on a marble island amidst a room full of flowers, ribbons, and anything even remotely related to bouquet-making.

You’re too distracted by the beauty that surrounds you to notice that Yoongi is grabbing something from a nearby shelf. He returns to stand in front of you once more. “Let me taste you,” He says as if he’s asking for the time of day.

“If you must,” You feign indifference, but your smile betrays you.

“Clothes off,” Yoongi says, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it. You don’t think twice before stripping out of your blouse and unbuttoning your dark jeans.

“You’re gonna have to help me, Yoongi,” You sigh as you stare down at the lack of room Yoongi is giving you to stand to take off your pants.

“It would be my honor,” Yoongi replies, and you groan at his dramatics. “Ass up,” He commands. You lean back onto your elbows and lift your ass up so that he can take your jeans off successfully.

“Damn, baby,” His eyes burn into you as he takes in the sight of your body covered just barely by your lace bra and panties. Tugging a scrap of ribbon from his pocket, Yoongi approaches you, “Can I blindfold you?”

“Kinky,” You breathe, nodding. Yoongi grins and gently ties the soft ribbon around your head, effectively surrounding you in darkness.

“Lay back,” He murmurs. You do so, shivering slightly as your skin meets the coolness of the marble. A soft kiss is placed to your cheek before you feel a brush of something else cross your neck.

You gasp as what you can only imagine could be a flower is dragged along your body, dipping in between your breasts, down across your stomach, ghosting over your hips. All of your senses are buzzing, hyper-aware of everything but your sight.

And so when you feel a finger slowly stroke you over your panties, you let out a gasp. “Yoongi,” You moan, your hips shifting in vain to bring his hand closer.

“Say my name again,” He growls, and you hear a snip along with a quick touch of metal.

“Yoongi,” You chastise, “Did you just fucking cut my underwear off?”

“Hm, not quite the tone I was asking for but it’ll do,” The grin is apparent in his voice and you open your mouth to lay into him when his tongue slides between your folds.

“Fuck,” You sigh, your hand winding down your body to clutch at his hair, “Yoongi, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Yoongi mumbles, and then you are suddenly moved closer to the edge of the island and his mouth is on you.

His lips kiss over every inch of your pussy, his tongue flicks out every so often to drag over your clit. It’s slow and torturously sweet. Your back arches as Yoongi suddenly sucks lightly at your swollen bud.

“Yoongi.”

That sets him off. You feel Yoongi’s finger tease your entrance, lightly pushing in and out as his mouth continues to suck and caress your pussy.

“Please.”

His finger sinks into you, and you curse, moaning Yoongi’s name as he continues to push in and out of you. Though your vision is taken, you begin to see white as you hurtle towards the precipice.

Another finger is thrust inside you and you cry out. “Fuck, baby,” Yoongi growls, “You are so wet for me, so tight, so delicious. Tell me when you’re close. I want you to come in my mouth.”

Fuck, he’s filthy. You think you might love him.

“I’m already close, you little shit,” You groan as he sucks your clit harshly, making you somehow see stars.

Yoongi immediately switches things up, his tongue sinks inside you as his fingers rub your clit in quick, light circles.

You come with a scream, feeling Yoongi sucking and lapping up everything you give him. He carries you through your orgasm, and finally you sink back onto the marble.

And then you rip off the blindfold.

“My turn!” You grin, blinking furiously as your eyes readjust to the light of the room. You sit up. Yoongi is still kneeling between your legs, gazing up at you with wet lips and a feral expression.

“Your turn?” He arches an eyebrow and stands. You take advantage of his movements and hop down off the island.

“Those are the words that came out of my mouth, yes,” You throw his own words from a few days ago back in his face.

You can tell he remembers when he laughs slightly, his eyes crinkling adorably.

“Now get naked, Min Yoongi,” You command, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the ground.

Yoongi groans at the sight of you and then whips his shirt off, throwing it at you.

Laughing, you catch it and chuck it to the side. Before you know it, Yoongi stands naked before you. His torso is also covered in ink, his nipples are pierced, his cock is hard.

You slowly walk over to him, excited by how the tables have turned now. “Blindfold?” You ask, dangling the satin ribbon in front of you.

He shakes his head swiftly, “No, I need to see you.”

You grab his cock and revel in the hiss of breath he sucks in, “Baby boy, I don't think you understand who is in charge here.”

“Fuck,” He moans, both at your words and at the slow movements of your hand along his length.

“Now, since you made me come particularly hard, I’m going to give you another option: I tie your wrists.”

Yoongi looks pissed, “I have to pick one?”

You take your hand away, and he caves instantly. “Fine! Tie my wrists.”

“Good boy,” You smirk, “Now lay on the island like I just did.” You watch as he listens, grumbling all the while about how he wanted to touch you and how this was some bullshit. He’d learn.

Finally, Yoongi is in position and gives out a big sigh like he just went through so much effort. So extra.

You make quick work of his wrists, tying them above his head loosely. “Let me know it gets to be too much for you, okay?” You kiss him softly and swiftly and smile as he tries to chase your lips as you pull back.

You hop onto the island and slowly kneel over Yoongi. Your knees are on either side of his calves as you lean down, arching your back so your ass is high in the air, and then you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth.

The moan that Yoongi emits is so sexy that you almost skip right to sitting on his dick - almost. Instead, you just speed up, swirling your tongue around him and cradling his balls in your palm.

“Fucking hell, baby,” Yoongi rasps out, his eyes squeezed shut, “Your fucking mouth.”

You smile around him and take him further inside your mouth. Yoongi chokes out more curses than you have ever heard before. And when you swallow around him, he groans, “I’m gonna come. Wanna come on your tits.”

You release him with a pop. “No,” You say, sitting back on your heels.

Yoongi’s neck strains as he looks down at you, “Please, (y/n), baby, I need you. Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” His head falls back as he smirks slightly, “I can’t believe that you just sucked my dick and that I actually got to eat you out just now. Damn, I don’t know how I got so lucky. Maybe I saved someone famous in my past life. Or maybe I was Spiderman—”

Moving quickly, you settle further up his body, hovering over his cock. Your hand covers Yoongi’s mouth. “Are you malfunctioning? Oh my god, I broke you. And to think I was going to sit on your dick next… That’s too bad. I don't think you can handle it.”

His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates as he stares up at you, “Mmph!” His words are muffled by your palm.

“What’s that?” You tease, leaning down to slowly suck on his nipple, swirling the piercing around with your tongue. “You still want me to?”

This time, you remove your hand so he can reply fully. As soon as your palm leaves, Yoongi cries, “Please, please, please, baby. Take me inside you. I’ll make you feel good, I promise!”

“Well,” You straighten, grabbing his cock and lining him up with your entrance, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Slowly, you sink down. Inch by inch you watch as Yoongi’s face scrunches up as he murmurs your name like a prayer. Finally, you take him all the way inside. “Well, how does it feel, baby?” You grin.

“Like fucking heaven,” He groans, his fists clenching above him as he tries to thrust into you as best he can.

“Relax, baby,” You place a palm on his chest, “Let me take care of you.” With that, you begin to move. Your hips swivel slowly at first and then pick up the pace. You feel him twitching inside you and you know that he’s already close from how well you sucked him off earlier.

You ride him hard, sliding up and down his hard cock and watching his face as you ruin him. His breathing is harsh and his legs begin shaking beneath you, “Fuck, shit, damn, baby, please.”

His words are a garbled mess as you clench down around him, beginning to feel your own orgasm rising. “Don’t you dare come yet, Min Yoongi,” You hiss, leaning back slightly to take him deeper.

“Baby-y, please.” You watch enraptured as a tear slips out of his eye. Yoongi’s abs are clenching and you know he is so fucking close to coming.

“Look at me,” You order, sliding a hand down your body to circle your clit. He listens and groans immediately at the sight of you.

“Watching you ride me makes me want to come even more!” He whines, but nevertheless keeps his eyes on you. You smile and moan softly as you continue to ride him, flicking your clit between your fingers. You’re close now.

Your movements become frantic as you bounce on his cock, your hips shifting over his. You hurtle towards your climax and you tighten around him, “Come.”

Immediately, you feel him come inside you, painting your walls and filling you with warmth. You light up as you come for the second time that night, your walls pulsing around his cock, milking him.

Yoongi is undone underneath you, his head is thrown back, throat on full display. He is muttering something about the sweetest pussy ever and wedding rings. And he looks so good that you can't resist laying down on top of him, kissing his neck. “You good, baby boy?” You smile in between kisses.

“I think you did break me,” He mumbles, his hands settling on your hips. Wait a second…

“How did you untie yourself?” You pout, relaxing into Yoongi’s chest as his hands rub your ass.

“Silk is slippery, babe,” You can practically hear his grin, “But not as slippery as your pus—”

“Min Yoongi!” You cry, hopping off of him. He whines as he slips out of you but then licks his lips as he notices his own cum dripping down your legs.

“Come here,” He crooks a finger at you.

“Make me,” You retort once again, smirking slightly.

He groans, “I don't think I can even move right now if I wanted to. But come on, sit on my face.”

“Wow, such language!” You slap a hand over your heart, “My delicate ears will never recover!”

“You’re the worst,” Yoongi laughs, easing up to sit. “Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard.”

“Nice,” You nod proudly, “Leave that review on Yelp, please.”

His dark eyes narrow, “Who else is leaving reviews, (y/n)?”

Laughing, you tug on Yoongi’s discarded t-shirt, “Oh, you know, the rest of my harem of flower boys.”

“What!” Yoongi makes a miraculous recovery as he jumps off the island and tugs you to him, “I’m your flower boy, baby. You’ll never need anyone else.”

Smiling widely up at him, you simply reply, “Okay, bloomer.”

a/n: flower meanings sourced from: The Complete Language of Flowers: A Definitive and Illustrated History by S. Theresa Dietz AND The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh [again, meanings differ depending on the source!)

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bjornthorsson20 · 3 years ago

Text

Give Us a Break!

Had this Rarry drabble unfinished for 2 months now, and finally, the inspiration hit to finish it yesterday. Hope y'all enjoy! ^^

Harry entered the kitchen to find Ron already leaning on the counter, munching on some toast. Even now, in his disheveled morning state, Harry thought he looked positively stunning, especially with the sun rays reflecting off his flaming red hair, making it shine even brighter.

Ron looked his way, grinning as soon as their eyes met, and made a gesture for Harry to come closer. Harry had to stop himself from biting his lip at how sexy just that little wag of his finger was. He walked up to Ron, keeping a good distance away from him, but Ron wasn't having it, as he tugged on Harry's sleeve to pull him in until their faces were mere inches apart. Harry involuntarily bunched Ron's shirt with his fist, his breathing already ragged due to their proximity.

As soon as Ron dipped his head, they heard footsteps coming in, alarming them both, and before Harry could jolt away quickly enough, Ron burped on his face, laughing afterward.

"What the fuck, Ron?! Fucking hell!" Harry bellowed, frantically waving his hand in front of his face.

"I told you not to get too close, Potter. Your mistake," Ron chuckled, but with a subtle wink his way, Harry understood why he did it.

"Er, am I interrupting something?" Hermione asked by the doorway, with an amused half-smile and one eyebrow raised.

“Not at all, no. Harry was just talking big for someone who was clearly unprepared to handle the Weasleys’ dirty tricks,” Ron laughed, having way too much fun watching Harry blush profusely from the embarrassment of almost getting caught by their best friend.

“Okay,” Hermione enunciated, barely holding in a chuckle as she grabbed a piece of toast, taking a bite of it. “I’ll be outside reading in the shade if you boys need me or wish to keep me company later.” As they nodded, she left the kitchen, leaving them alone once more.

“That was close,” Harry breathed a sigh of relief, messing his hair up with a shaky hand, the blush still present on his face.

“But not close enough,” Ron said in the deep voice he knew always made Harry’s knees weak, bringing him closer again. Harry’s hand landed flat on Ron’s chest and he could feel his heartbeat speed up, his own breath hitching as he took in the deep-blue desire in the ginger’s eyes. Their lips moved at the same time…

“Good morning! Nice to see you both already up!” bellowed the Weasley patriarch as he came in.

“Ron, you really are a messy eater,” Harry quickly said, swiping away nonexistent crumbs from Ron’s shirt, hoping Mr. Weasley would buy it, despite the nervous squeak in his voice.

“Mate, you’ve known me for how many years now? It’s not news at this point that I’m a pig when it comes to food. Oh hi, dad,” Ron greeted his dad nonchalantly, and Harry wondered how he managed to stay that calm in this kind of situation.

“Sorry, were you two in the middle of something?”

“Oh, no, Harry was just practicing his crumb swiping technique on me. Apparently, it’s a muggle thing boys our age do,” Ron smoothly lied, as Harry was trying very hard not to laugh, sure that Mr. Weasley would never buy such a-

“Oh! Fascinating! Remind me to pull Harry aside later to inquire more on that. I’ll be heading off to work now. Take care, you two!” And with that, he was off.

Harry blew out a huge breath, crying from laughter as he gasped out syllable for syllable, “I can’t believe he bought that!” Ron soon joined him on it, both of them clutching their stomachs from the hilarity of it all.

Finally, they both sighed, spent from their bout of mirth, wearing identical silly smiles and stepping closer to one another. Ron caressed Harry’s cheek lovingly, his trademarked lopsided grin showing up. “I guess we should just wait for tonight. You can hold on until then, right?” He chuckled as Harry nodded.

“What can wait for tonight, our dear Ickle Ronniekins?” The twins chorused in unison, popping out from seemingly nowhere, startling them both.

“Well, uh, Harry likes me to read this muggle fairytale to him before bed, helps him sleep better, but lately he has been asking me to read it to him during the day, and I just wanted us to come back to it being a bedtime story. Makes it more special.” By the end of this convoluted lie, the twins were already reduced to tears on the kitchen floor, laughing even harder than Harry and Ron before. By the time they managed to get up again, each one leaning on Ron’s shoulders for support, they were laughing right at a very red Harry’s face, trying to form coherent sentences, but being overpowered by the laughter. They eventually calmed down enough to taunt Harry with questions like “Do you need your special blanket to sleep well too?” or “What thumb do you sleep sucking on?”, before thanking Ron for the gold mine of jokes and promptly disapparating.

The silence hung between them, Ron doing his best to not laugh at the terrible attempt at an angry stare Harry was giving him. Eventually, with a twitch of his lips giving him away, he muttered, “You’re the fucking worst.”

Ron did laugh then, dipping his head with their noses almost touching, “I am. But you love me for it,” he said, before finally giving Harry a proper quick kiss.

As Ron broke the kiss, Harry was left with a smile, and, with his eyes still closed, let out a content sigh.

“I do.”

#rarry #rarry fanfic #ron x harry #ron weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #arthur weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins #ronarry #hp fanfic #hp drabble

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capitainelevi · 3 years ago

Text

Togetherness

Prompt for @rivetra-week: Harmony

Words: 3481

There was no sign of her today. Levi wondered once again who she was and why she was haunting his dreams. He couldn`t even remember her name anymore. But Levi knew he missed her. He felt himself drifting to sleep and closed his eyes.

"Happy birthday, Levi!"

Gabi and her family entered Levi`s room with a small cake, but he didn`t seem to notice their presence. Levi was gazing out the window, and his favorite love song was playing on the phonograph in the background. Gabi and Falco gifted it to him on his birthday 39 years ago, and it was still in perfect condition. They noticed the way Levi`s eyes lit up when he saw one in a display window, but they knew he would never spend money on something other than tea leaves and cleaning products. With their allowances, they were able to buy it in time for his birthday, and Levi scolded them for wasting money on him. But they knew he loved the gesture.

Falco got close to him and slowly shook his shoulder. "Levi, did you hear us?"

Levi just stared at them. His dementia was getting worse every day. When they started to notice the first signs, they forced him to see a doctor. When they heard his diagnosis, Levi just told them to take him to a nursing home. But they prepared the guest bedroom for him the next day. Levi was family, and their daughter was more than ecstatic to have him live with them.

"It`s your birthday today. It`s Christmas day, do you remember?"

Levi`s sight focused on the window again, and they wondered if he forgot about their presence already.

"Where is she?"

Falco stared at Gabi, unsure of what to say. When his disease worsened, Levi started talking about a woman. He started asking for her almost daily. Gabi and Falco sat down and tried to figure out who it could be, but Levi never had any lovers as far as they knew. They started to wonder if she was real.

Gabi smiled at him- "She should be here soon. Do you want to come downstairs and celebrate with us while you wait?"

Levi nodded, and Falco helped him get downstairs in front of the fireplace. Gabi and her daughter went to the kitchen to light the candles on the small cake they baked together.

"We should have added 81 candles."- Sofia pouted.

Gabi pinched her cheek, and she yelped in protest- "Then you should have helped me bake a bigger cake."

"Who do you think she was?"

Gabi shrugged and took the cake in her hands- "Maybe his lover, who knows? We don`t know much about his life before Marley."

They made their way back to the living room, and after he blew out the candles, Sofia hurried to get the presents from under the Christmas tree. She gave Levi one of the gifts, and he ruffled her hair. Levi tore the wrapping paper and smiled at the sight of his favorite tea leaves. No matter how poor his memory was getting, his love for tea was unscathed.

When it got dark, Falco took Levi back to his room. He helped Levi get back in his armchair for the night and turned on the music for him. He still preferred to sleep in a chair.

Levi woke up abruptly. He was lying on his back, with the sun blinding his sight. Levi used his right hand to cover his eyes... wait, he thought. He was met by something he hadn`t seen in dozens of years. His fingers were all intact. More than that, his skin wasn`t worn out by age anymore.

How odd, he thought. Levi couldn`t remember much these days, but something felt off. Did he dream it all? Being Humanity`s Strongest Soldier? The war? Getting old?

He found himself lying in the middle of a field, and Levi took a moment to cherish all the sensations. It had been years since he felt so carefree. He missed the feeling of the grass against his fingertips as he ran his hand through it, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the breeze on his skin. Levi turned his head to the side and spotted a small cottage in the distance. He used to have dreams of one before old age claimed his memories. He dreamt of the smell of freshly baked muffins and the sound of children playing in the backyard. The best ones were of her sitting on his lap on a lazy afternoon. Yes, Petra. He could remember her name now.

"Welcome home, Captain."

The voice he yearned to hear for so many years startled him, and Levi rose to his feet abruptly. His mouth went dry, and he could not seem to get a word out. Petra was as beautiful as the first moment he laid his eyes on her. Among the recruits, a small girl with fire in her eyes captured his attention.

Petra wore a long, white lace dress, with a beautiful embroidery decorating its length. She had a single white rose in her crown braid, but Levi`s attention was fixed on the shy smile she gave him. Oh, how he missed her. His memory, plagued by the passing of time, did not do her beauty justice.

"Am I..."

Petra gave him a sad smile before cutting him off.

"Dead? Yes, I`m afraid so. You died in your sleep on your 80th birthday."

Levi sat down on the grass, taking a moment to process it all. He felt confused, half-convinced it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

"I thought this was a dream."

Petra sat down on the grass next to him. She took his hand in hers, and he squeezed it back. She made small circles on his skin with her thumb in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

"If it were, would it be a bad one?"

"No," Levi answered without giving it a second thought. Dream or afterlife, he could never be bothered about getting to share it all with her.

"I thought it would be different. I didn`t feel anything. No fear, no pain."

Petra took his hand and placed it on her lap. She could feel where the conversation would be going next, and she didn`t want Levi to torment himself anymore.

Levi averted his eyes from hers. He felt a lump forming at the back of his throat, and he barely got out a whisper- "You died at such a young age. Did you..."

Petra interrupted him again. She cupped his face in her hands and turned his sight back to her.

"I was paralyzed by fear. I didn`t feel anything, I swear. It was quick."

She could see the disbelief in his eyes, but she kept going.

"I... I wish I had more time there. But we can`t fool fate, can we?"

Levi closed his eyes, still tormented by regret. He took one of her palms, and he placed a small kiss on it.

"I couldn`t get justice for you. For the guys. I`m sorry."

Petra threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. Levi wrapped his arms around her, and Petra gave a smile at how much he was holding onto her."

"We didn`t want you to. There was so much hate already. What happened to us... it wasn`t your fault, Captain."

Levi sighed in relief, happy he got her forgiveness nonetheless. He ran his hand up and down her back, wishing time stood still for a moment.

Petra pulled away from him, and Levi could see the faint tears in her eyes. But the smile she gave him melted his worries away.

Levi cleared his throat before speaking- "You`re gonna get it dirty."

Petra frowned, confused at where the conversation was going.

"The dress. It`s white, what did you expect?"

Petra burst into laughter, throwing herself on the ground. She swore she could see Levi`s eye twitch at the gesture.

"I`m serious, Petra. Grass stains are a bitch to get rid of."

She took his hand in hers again, tempted to pull him down next to her.

Petra batted her eyelashes at him- "I`m sure you`ll get them out for me."

He flicked her forehead, and she gave a small yelp in protest.

"You wish, brat."

Petra turned on her stomach, and she looked up at him with a big smile on her face while her hands cupped her cheeks. She said in the sweetest voice she could manage- "I know you can`t help yourself, sir."

Levi sighed and laid down next to her. "Fine, you win. But you`re still a brat."

Petra giggled, and she moved closer to him. She placed her head in the crook of his neck, and her fingers started fidgeting with one of his shirt`s buttons.

"I`ve missed you, Levi. I`ve been waiting for you."

Levi put his arm around her and he pulled her closer to him. "I`m sorry you had to wait for so long."

Petra shook her head at his response.

"Time passes differently here, I didn`t mind. Plus, I had company. Everyone visits from time to time."

Levi felt anxious at the thought of seeing everyone again. He hoped he didn`t disappoint any of them in the end.

As if reading his mind, Petra turned his face towards hers, and she ran her finger along his cheek. "Don`t worry, they can`t wait to come to visit."

Petra was only met with silence.

"We all get together on your birthday to celebrate. Erwin, Hange, the guys, and the rest of our friends." She gave a smile. "I guess everyone loved you. We eat cake, we drink tea, and we share our stories about you." Petra gave a small laugh- "Now that I think about it, we should have cleaned too."

Levi chuckled, and Petra was surprised to see a smirk forming on his face.

"You all do a piss poor job anyway."

Petra kicked him playfully in the shoulder, and he pulled her close to him again.

"There were also some interesting people from your past that I got to meet and become close to."

"Who..."

"Isabel is the sweetest girl."

Levi felt tears forming in his eyes when he heard that name. After she died, he tried to remember her the way she used to be: cheerful, optimistic, loud, and most importantly, happy. But images of the people he cared about devastated by death still haunted his memories, up until he started to lose them.

"She and Farlan come to visit me weekly. They help me around the garden. Did you know Farlan has a green thumb?"

Levi missed them both dearly. They taught him a lesson he cherished until his life ended: that family isn`t always blood.

"Isabel`s big appetite always leaves my pantry empty. After we finish gardening, she and Farlan help me prepare lunch and bake dessert. We always have to fight with Isabel over a piece of it."

"Eld, Gunther, and Oluo are always pestering me, of course. Just when I`m having a relaxing, good day, I hear loud knocks on my front door." Petra looked up at him and smiled.

"Even in death, I can`t get some time away from them!"

Levi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You love them."

Petra sighed and gave a small laugh- "Yeah, of course, I do. They are family, after all. My life would be so dull without their antics."

"I can tell you it is. I found myself wishing I could hear Eld tell the story of how you pissed yourself on your first mission one more time."

"He still tells it all the time!"

Petra felt a bit anxious about what was on her mind, and she told him in a low voice- "Your mom is an amazing woman."

Levi gasped, both scared and impatient to see her again. She had always been on his mind, the pain of losing her so soon following him all his life. He hoped she wouldn`t judge him for the hard choices he had to make. He did what he had to do to survive, but Levi felt he was disrespecting her memory from time to time. His mother had been nothing but kind, and Kenny almost managed to murder the values she tried to instill in him.

"She came to visit me when I got here. We`ve gotten pretty close over the years. She and your uncle come for tea sometimes." Petra gave a small laugh- "He scares me though, I`m sorry. He pulls a ridiculous number of knives out of his sleeves!"

Levi had a complicated relationship with Kenny. But after he passed away, Levi started to forgive him, to understand what he was trying to do for him.

"Your mother is very proud of you, Levi. She can`t wait to see you."

Levi didn`t know how to answer her words, so he tried to avoid the subject.

"How about your old man?"

Petra sighed, and she turned her sight to the sky.

"Papa was mad at me when he first got here. For dying so young, for missing out on so many opportunities. But he loves me too much to stay mad at me, of course. He and mama are reunited now, so I`m glad they`re happy again."

"You know, I got to meet him once."

Petra covered her eyes with her arm, embarrassed to be relieving this moment again.

"He embarrassed me so much! I wanted to come back just for the sole reason to stop him from running his mouth!"

Levi averted his eyes from her- "I feel like neither of us would have been bothered by that."

Petra bit her lip, the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She didn`t want to ruin this reunion with her tears, though she knew Levi wouldn`t mind.

"I wish I could have been there by your side. To help you watch over the kids."

"Over the brats, you mean."

Petra laughed at his correction- "They weren`t that bad, Captain. They all loved you."

There was a silence in the air, as neither of them wanted to talk about what Eren did.

"I wish I could see the sea."

Levi wished that for her as well.

"I wish I could have felt the waves against my legs. To run my fingers through the sand, to feel how soft it is. I wanted to taste the water as well, to see how salty it truly is."

Levi squirmed at the thought- "Are you crazy? Like I would ever let you do something so stupid!"

Petra pouted, but Levi held his position- "Fine, have it your way."

Petra whispered- "I`m sorry you had to go through so much."

"It was alright in the end. I had two annoying brats to keep me busy."Levi appreciated everything Gabi and Falco did for him, considering them his family over the years.

Petra barely listened to him, too lost in her thoughts- "I`m so sorry I had to leave so soon. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to support you, to be a shoulder for you to cry on when you needed it."

Levi turned his head towards hers and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I don`t cry, silly."

"But you did. The night you lost us."

Levi felt his throat tightening, not expecting to hear that response from her. He barely whispered- "Did you see that?"

Petra just nodded, and a single tear rolled down her cheek when she squeezed her eyes shut.

"You taught me to live without regret, Levi. But I did die with one."

Petra raised to her knees and kept her head down, gathering the courage to speak the words she`d been longing to tell him for more than 40 years. The tears flowed freely on her cheeks, and when she met his eyes, she could see his worry in them. But also hope.

"I love you."

Levi got up to his knees, and he cupped her face with his hands. He used his thumbs to clear her tears away, and they looked into each other`s eyes without breathing a word out for what felt like an eternity. Levi leaned towards her lips, and Petra closed her eyes, impatient to have them on hers. Levi captured her lips, putting all of his love and yearn into it. The sacrifices, the hurt, the pain, they were all worth it in the end.

He and Petra were one now. After wandering for so long, they were finally whole.

Levi deepened the kiss, and he could feel Petra's smile against his lips. She ran her hands through his hair and pulled him closer, eager to feel him against her. He devoured her lips until they were both out of breath.

He took her in his arms and laid her down on the grass before getting on top of her. Levi kissed her again, letting his tongue explore her mouth, before moving to lay open-mouthed kisses on her jaw. Petra wrapped her arms around him, moaning softly from the pleasure he was making her feel. Levi licked a trail down to her neck before laying soft kisses on it. He whispered I love you against the skin of her neck, and Petra whimpered, the tears threatening to fall again. She pulled him up to her lips and kissed him while holding onto him so tight he felt out of breath.

Levi pulled away, and he laid a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. Petra giggled and gave him a big smile- "Do you want to go home, captain?"

Levi couldn`t control his smile anymore. He had been longing to hear those words.

"Yes, I would very much like that." He wanted to go home for far too long.

Petra got up to her feet and offered him her hand, helping him off the ground. Petra`s smile faded away at the sight of an angry Levi.

"Tch, what did I tell you?"

Petra felt panic rise in her chest, thinking he might regret confessing his feelings to her.

"It`s ruined! I`m never getting that stain out, you might as well undress and leave it here for the fucking animals to shit on."

Petra turned her head to look at the green stain on her dress, and she burst into laughter at his antics. She was a messy kid growing up, and her father always teased her about falling in love with such a clean freak.

She let him ramble under his breath as she pulled him towards the house. Their house, she hoped.

Petra lived in a small cabin with flower pots at the windows. She had two chairs on the porch, one too many in his opinion, as he planned to have her in his lap every evening. He spotted a small vegetable garden on the side of the house, wondering if she and Farlan needed an extra hand.

When they got on the porch, Levi stopped her, and Petra frowned at his gesture. Was the house not to his liking? Did it not seem clean enough?

“Is something wrong? If you don`t like it, we can always redecorate.”

Levi kissed her to shut her up and picked her up in his arms, bridal style. It seemed appropriate, as they were starting a new chapter together. Petra yelped, surprised by his gesture, but wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Shall we, my dear?"

Petra giggled at the extremely uncharacteristic sweet talk- "Of course, my love."

Levi opened the door, and he almost hit her head on the frame. He cringed at his awkwardness, but Petra just gave him a small kiss on his cheek. He made his way to the living room and set Petra down on one of the armchairs.

Levi took a moment to take in the surroundings. It was cleaned up to his standards, and his chest filled with pride. He had trained her well. The living room was small, with some shelves filled with books, two armchairs in front of the fireplace, and a table between them. The tea Petra had prepared for them went cold, but tea was tea. He would never let it go to waste.

The room filled with music, and he turned his head to find Petra in front of a phonograph. It was his favorite song.

Petra gave him a shy smile and reached out to him- "Can I have this dance, Captain?"

Levi put the teacup down, and he wrapped her arms around her. They started moving slowly, and Petra laid her head on his shoulder. He ran his hand up and down her back, and she closed her eyes, wishing the moment never ended. They danced until evening fell, oblivious to the hours passing.

They had all the time in the world.

(x)

#rivetra weekend #rwmay2021 #rivetra #rivetra fanfiction #petra ral #rivetra fic #I hope it`s okay ❤️#rivetra headcanon #my writing

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tonystarktogo · 4 years ago

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Last part of the time travel crack ‘verse for now (and sorry for making you all worry about the scepter, I didn’t mean it that way, it just seemed like a good cut-off point tbh):

"The scepter! Did anyone keep an eye on the scepter?"

"I assure you," Agent Agent, who looks a little singed and has a bandage wrapped around one ear, yet continues to rock the personality-free drawl that tricks people into thinking he’s not worth paying attention to, speaks up, "that the scepter is still safely in SHIELD custody, Dr. Banner."

Banner scoffs.

Rogers grimaces.

Barton winces.

And oh, all other issues aside, the vindication of this moment is glorious. Tony feels fully justified in the doubtful look he aims at the screen. You know your show sucks balls when even your own operative doesn’t buy what you’re selling.

"That’s great," Banner says in a painfully droll voice. "But I’ll feel a lot better when we hand it over to our resident Asgardian prince for safekeeping rather than put it into a secret high-security facility and hope for the best. Like the one you stored the Tesseract in took Loki what, five minutes to take over?"

Woah, talk about burn. Tony doesn’t bother muffling his snicker. Who’d have thought Banner has it in him?

[continues under the cut]

"Hang on, wouldn’t it be better—" Rogers interrupts before Fury or Coulson can come up with an excuse, which judging by their sour-slash-carefully-blank expressions isn’t as easy as they’d like it to be.

Banner raises one hand. It shouldn’t be a power move on part with his green counterpart squashing a car in his fist, isn’t even particularly aggressive but for some reason Rogers shuts up. Immediately. The bright, eerily green eyes might have something to do with it.

"If you’re going where I think you’re going, I advise you to reconsider," Banner growls, the vocals deep enough that Romanoff reaches for the nearest weapon. "Even setting my personal issues aside, it’s not worth the risk."

Barton sighs with what sounds less like exhaustion and more like sad resignation. "Hate to say it, Cap, but he’s right. Sending the scepter off-Earth with the Tesseract is probably the safest course of action we can take right now. We can’t count on being that lucky again."

"Agent Barton," Agent Agent’s words drip with such a pointedly polite friendliness, it’s a wonder he doesn’t spear his own tongue on it. "Please desist in trying to hand off objects that pose an immediate threat to global security to an unvetted alien who, while a valued ally, is in line for the throne of a foreign world."

And wow. Tony’s not gonna win a prize for his sensitivity any time soon, but there’s some things you just don’t say to a guy who got brainwashed into doing an alien’s bidding less than forty-eight hours ago. Going by the way Romanoff has gone rigid, she agrees.

Luckily for everyone present, Barton doesn’t bat an eye at the dig. He leans forward instead, elbows placed on his tights, the picture of relaxation. As long as you ignore the expression on his face that could possibly pass for a smile. If you catch sight of it out of the corner of your eye. Through a dirty mirror.

"Not that I’m not glad to see you alive and well, Phil, because I am. But getting my head rolled once was already one time too many and if the Tesseract is powerful enough to draw fucking aliens to it then it’s too fucking powerful for us to protect." Barton’s voice becomes progressively lower as he continues his little not-having-any-of-your-shit rant. "More people are gonna get killed over that thing. Good people. Because we don’t have the damn resources to keep it safe. So if we gotta bet on Asgard for this, then that’s what we’re gonna fucking do because to be frank with you sir I’d rather lead the hostile aliens to a world ready for interstellar warfare than my own."

Thor straightens from where he’s been fixated on Loki for the past hour or so, trying to crawl into his brother’s skull through willpower alone by the looks of it, and dips his head in Barton’s direction. "Thank you for your faith," he says gravely, as though Barton hasn’t straight up told everyone in this room he wants to use Asgard as a shield-slash-sacrificial-offering. "I hope my people will prove worthy of it."

"Should be fine." Banner shrugs with a nonchalance Tony envies. "’s long as we take care of your murderous sibling first."

Thor winces. Loki’s face loses whatever expressiveness it had left and it already was at state zero: emotions not welcome here to begin with.

But. Tony tilts his head. Why not just call Loki by his name? Unless, of course, Banner isn’t referring to him. But how would the infamous Hulk-slash-brilliant-scientist have gotten himself wrapped up in alien family drama? And is there a form Tony can sign? Because he hates being kept out of the loop.

"Avengers!" Fury snaps before things can get any more awkward. Which, good for him, but in Tony’s fine opinion he should have taken the win and be done with it. There’s just no winning against whatever type of madness — not to mention feelings — these people are so inconsiderately spreading inside his walls. "You’re not bartering off our best chance to defend ourselves against alien invaders, have I made myself clear? That’s an order."

Rogers scoffs at the screen and damn it, Tony’s determined not to like the guy but the way he just smirks humorlessly as he stares Fury down, all aww shucks did you want the pretty, glowy thing too and well too damn bad for you makes it hard. Especially when Rogers goes that little extra mile and asks with a plain as day air of who fucking cares: "Whatever gave you the impression that this is a negotiation, Director Fury?"

It’s just too great a line to resist and Tony is only human. He makes a sharp gesture with his hand and JARVIS disconnects the call before they witness Fury pop a blood vessel. Let that be Agent’s problem for the time being.

"So," Tony states after a moment. "Besides all but declaring war on SHIELD, the organization two people in this room are officially employed by, for the record, and dealing with Reindeer Games over there, what’s the plan?"

Nervous shuffling. Awkward grins. Badly-hidden glances going back and forth.

Perhaps most notably, nobody protests the declaring-war-on-SHIELD part. Tony would ask but frankly he’s still on his first glass of scotch — meaning way too fucking sober for whatever madness the answer to that question will undoubtedly raise. It’s a sad, sad day in the history of mankind when Tony is the voice of reason in a room filled with one-person-armies.

"What about Shawarma?" Rogers, apparently the most uncomfortable with the pressing silence, blurts out.

Tony gives that pitiful attempt to change the subject the nice try, have to admit I didn’t see that coming but you’re gonna have to give me more than that look it deserves. As it turns out though, he may have been overestimating his present company’s average ability to read a room.

"I could go for a bite," Barton pipes up, earning himself a soul-shriveling, dead-eyed, where the fuck did I go wrong with you and how have I not killed you yet stare, courtesy of Romanoff that he brushes off with admirable ease. Still not moving an inch away from her either and if Tony’s noticed the way her hand’s been edging ever closer to the knife strapped to her calf, there’s no way Barton hasn’t.

"Sounds good," Banner chimes in with a twisted amusement that makes Tony want to scratch his eyes out. "I know just to the place."

They do eat Shawarma together. [All of them, even Loki, because Thor insists his brother is far too thin. Considering Barton doesn’t protest and the only person Loki tries to stab with his salad fork is Thor himself, nobody comments on it.]

As if to add insult to a very long list of injuries that Tony is dying to poke and prod at, the food tastes delicious.

Okay so the whole antagonizing SHIELD thing wasn’t planned, but I figured in this AU there was no drawn out battle and no bomb and so there was no ‘thank fuck we’re even alive right now’ relief to take the edge of. Instead everyone is pissed off and frustrated (if for very different reasons) and not outright attacking the helicarrier right now is about all the diplomacy Steve has the patience for at this point.

#ReRe writes #if you know the future why are you such an idiot 'verse #subtlety thee name is Steve #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #Clint Barton #Thor Odinson #Loki #Bruce Banner #did Steve bring up Shawarma in a panicked attempt to give the team some time to come up with an explanation for Tony and Nat?#you bet he did #is he gonna fail? you bet he will #Tony's got a list of question he wants answered alphabetically or chronologically the choice is your #Natasha's got her widow bites and some serious motivation to get her answers #Coulson and Fury are not pleased #they'll be even less pleased when the Avengers get their hands on the scepter they're trying to secure #which they will #fic #Tony's just done #meaning he's lying in wait for the first sign of weakness and then he's gonna jump onthat shit with all his observations and evidence #because he and Natasha are a lot more alike than either wants to admit

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cryingcow · 4 years ago

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Kiryu & Oda - Is Tachibana Real Estate a Good Company? [RGGO]

Starting April, RGG Online has looped back to Y0 events and cards. This 2-part scratchcard mini-event features Oda “April Fools” Jun and Kiryu “asks way too many questions” Kazuma, two real estate agents who may or may not be doing real estate stuff while they pose like runway models and eat delicious ramen together :D

Some of you may be wondering why I seem to randomly insert them screenshots in the text. Usually other than showing new characters, I put them in when there’s a change in the facial expression / tone. It’s harder to tell with these Dragon Engine avatars, but they do still make :0 or :) faces (like when Oda says Kiryu’s being cute lol)

PROLOGUE

One day in 1988. In Kamurocho, various speculations revolve around “The Empty Lot”. Meanwhile, Kiryu, who decided to join hands with Tachibana Real Estate, meets up with Oda to discuss the future . . .

Kiryu: “So? What should I do from here on out?”

Oda: “Your fingerprints were lifted from the corpse in the Empty Lot. The police are spinning it in various ways. So I think you should wait until the president gives instructions.”

Kiryu: “All right. But before I cooperate, there’s something I need to know. Does your company, Tachibana Real Estate, do anything other than landgrabbing?”

Oda: “Why do you care about that?”

Kiryu: “It’s not a big deal. But I still don’t know you very well.”

Oda: “It’s as if you don’t believe in us.”

Kiryu: “Whatever you’re doing, I don’t mind.”

Oda: “Hm. Then follow me.”

Kiryu: “?”

Oda: “I’ll show you what you want. The other work we do besides landgrabbing.”

----

Oda: “We’ve arrived.”

Kiryu: “. . . Isn’t this Hideya? This is a long-established ramen shop in Champion District.”

Oda: “You’re well informed. As expected of a yakuza of the Dojima Family with roots in Kamurocho.”

Kiryu: “‘Former’ yakuza.”

Oda: “How rude of me.”

Kiryu: “So? What’s wrong with Hideya?”

Oda: “Take a look inside.”

Kiryu: “. . . What’s this?”

Oda: “As you can see, Hideya’s been in a slump these days.”

Kiryu: “What happened? Did the taste quality drop while I wasn’t there?”

Oda: “Why don’t you check for yourself? I’ll treat you, so try eating it.”

Kiryu: “I’m not owing you a debt of gratitude for the treat.”

Oda: “Heh. That’s cute.”

----

Oda: “Sorry for the disturbance.”

Shop Manager: “Welcome! Ah, Oda-san. And also Kiryu-san.”

Kiryu: “Long time no see, shop manager.”

Oda: “Shop manager, some ramen. Is that all right with you?”

Kiryu: “Yeah.”

Shop Manager: “On it!”

Oda: “It’s not a pretty shop, but it’s a shop that stood the test of time, isn’t it?”

Kiryu: “The shop’s appearance doesn’t matter as long as you can have something to eat.”

Oda: “Hm. Is that so.”

Shop Manager: “Yes, the ramen you waited for!”

Oda: “Shall we eat now?”

Kiryu: “. . . Yeah.”

Kiryu: “. . . !!”

Oda: “How is it? Did the taste quality go down?”

Kiryu: “No . . . it’s good. It’s been a while since I ate it, but it tastes the same as before.”

Oda: “Right? As far as I know, Hideya’s ramen is so delicious that it’s worth three 3 fingers in Kamurocho.”

Kiryu: “But then why aren’t there many customers?”

Shop Manager: “Ahaha, you sure can say it frankly.”

Kiryu: “Ah . . . , no . . .”

Shop Manager: “It’s okay. Because it’s true.”

Kiryu: “. . . I’m sorry.”

Oda: “So shop manager, is it true you want to close the shop and sell the land here?”

Shop Manager: “With only these many customers coming in . . . The cost of the ingredients wasted everyday is not a trivial matter . . .”

Oda: “Is that really okay?”

Shop Manager: “Certainly it’s painful that the smiles of the customers who ate our ramen can’t be seen anymore. . . . the time has come, I’m sure.”

Kiryu: “. . .”

Oda: “I understand . . . If you want to sell the land, please contact us. We will purchase it at a higher price than other companies.”

Shop Manager: “. . . Yeah. When that time comes, I will consult you.”

----

Kiryu: “Did we really go just to find out if you could buy Hideya’s land?”

Oda: “Who knows, Kiryu-kun. now listen up.”

Kiryu: “. . .”

Oda: “How about we start at the top? Did you know that the reason why customers don’t come to Hideya is not because of the taste?”

Kiryu: “Yeah. If it tastes like that, more customers should be coming in. There has to be other reasons why the customers don’t come.”

Oda: “Spot on.”

Kiryu: “What on earth is it? What is the real reason why Hideya doesn’t have customers?”

Oda: “Hideya has been receiving harassment. The Tojo Clan subsidiary, Moriguchi Family, wants to get their hands on the shop’s land.”

Kiryu: “What did you say?”

Oda: “To strengthen their claim, they have bad guys hanging out in front of the store . . . because of these guys, the regulars steer clear of Hideya. Still, the manager of Hideya manages to keep the shop open. Until that ramen shop, which is across the street . . .”

Kiryu: “Across the street? Is that the shop with a long line?”

Oda: “It’s a recently opened shop. That shop has been robbing Hideya of customers.”

Kiryu: “Is it really delicious?”

Oda: “Not at all. You can see at first glance that it’s of lesser quality. It’s not a taste that can compete with Hideya.”

Kiryu: “Then why do they get so many customers?”

Oda: “The ramen there is 100 yen per bowl.”

Kiryu: “100 yen?! Can they make it at such price?”

Oda: “That shop has no intention of making a profit from ramen.”

Kiryu: “. . . No way, is that ramen shop . . . ?”

Oda: “Yeah. No matter how much harassment they do, they won’t evict Hideya— so it’s a ramen shop run by the Moriguchi Family, started just to rob Hideya of customers. Attacking a small shop while backed up with abundant funds . . . it’s a dirty trick. But if you ask, they’ll just say the customers are satisfied with their low price. It’s a corporate effort. What they’re doing isn’t illegal or anything.”

Kiryu: “Cheaters.”

Oda: “I agree with you.”

Kiryu: “But is Tachibana Real Estate also aiming for that land? After all, you guys have the same goal.”

Oda: “Would you prefer being with those guys?”

Kiryu: “Is it any different?”

Oda: “Hasn’t it been mentioned before? It’s our president’s policy. Protecting the land of the Champion District.”

Kiryu: “I see . . . so how are you going to protect Hideya’s land?”

Oda: “First of all, we will hold a scratch event. Of course I’ll shoulder the full cost.”

Kiryu: “Scratch event?”

Oda: “Distribute scratchcard tickets to customers who order ramen. It’s an event where you might get a wonderful prize if you win. Customers will be enticed by the expensive prizes, and once they taste Hideya’s ramen, they’ll become regulars. If the regulars spread the word around, the customers will surely return to Hideya. That’s the aim.”

Kiryu: “I see. But I don’t understand.”

Oda: “Hm?”

Kiryu: “No matter Tachibana’s policy, does Tachibana Real Estate do things that aren’t profitable? Would it be profitable for the company to protect a crushed ramen shop?”

Oda: “The president says that blocking the interest of competitors is one of the good management strategies.”

Kiryu: “I don’t know how difficult that is, but okay. But there’s one more thing I don’t understand.”

Oda: “What?”

Kiryu: “You, Oda. Are you cooperating this time because you were told to by Tachibana?”

Oda: “Of course. I’m an employee of Tachibana Real Estate, aren’t I? That person’s words are absolute.”

Kiryu: “Then what about your true intentions? After all, you also want to grab Hideya’s land, right?”

Oda: “Well, if you shut down Hideya and turn it into a sex shop, you can expect quite the profit every month. But it’s a bit of a problem for me to not be able to eat Hideya’s ramen. After all, I’m a regular at that shop. I won’t be able to eat there twice a week and relax.”

Kiryu: “. . . Heh. That kind of reason is something I can trust. So when will you start the event?”

Oda: “Tomorrow. We should do it as soon as possible.”

Kiryu: “Got it. What should I do?”

Oda: “Take the scratchcard tickets from the office to Hideya. I’ll inform the shop manager about the campaign.”

----

Kiryu: “Shop manager. I brought the scratchcard tickets from Tachibana Real Estate office.”

Shop Manager: “Sorry, Kiryu-san. To do this for this place . . .”

Kiryu: “Don’t worry about it. Because I like this place too.”

Shop Manager: “. . .”

Kiryu: “What’s wrong? Your face looks gloomy.”

Shop Manager: “It’s my first time holding an event, I don’t know if it will work . . .”

Kiryu: “The event will just be a chance to get to know Hideya’s ramen. It’s like a bonus.”

Shop Manager: “. . . Yeah. I know that . . .”

Kiryu: “Have confidence. I’m sure everyone will accept Hideya’s ramen.”

Shop Manager: “. . . Understood. I’ll do my best!”

Kiryu: “Then I can take my leave?”

Shop Manager: “Yeah, leave it to me tomorrow!”

{The door closes behind Kiryu as he leaves.}

Shop Manager: “Alright, preparations are done. Do I have a little rest before tomorrow?”

{The door opens again.}

Moriguchi: “Oh, sorry for the disturbance.”

Shop Manager: “Y-You, Moriguchi-san?!”

Moriguchi: “Hideya-san, what kind of event are you doing? If it’s something to do with these scratchcards, you might as well give up, it’ll end all the same.”

Shop Manager: “I-It doesn’t matter to you.”

Moriguchi: “I want us to have a great relationship. It’s about time you rethink getting along with us. . . . Oh, do it.”

Yakuza: “Yes sir!”

{The sound of furniture breaking is heard as the yakuza swings around his sledgehammer.}

Shop Manager: “Wh-What are you doing?! St-Stop it!”

Moriguchi: “Joining hands with Tachibana Real Estate . . . it’s natural to feel hurt when you make light of yakuza.”

Shop Manager: “U-Uugh . . .”

Yakuza: “Boss, what do we do with these?”

Moriguchi: “Ah? Scratchcard tickets . . . It won’t be needed for a shop that will be shut down soon. Would you like to use it for a sideshow entertainment? It’ll make for a good prize.”

Shop Manager: “I-If you take that, the event will . . . !”

Moriguchi: “Shut up, fool!”

{Moriguchi punches the shop manager, causing him to collapse.}

Shop Manager: “Guh!”

Moriguchi: “To really go through all that unnecessary effort . . . Alright, let’s go.”

Yakuza: “Yes sir.”

{The door closes as the two yakuza leave.}

Shop Manager: “Damn it . . . damn it . . . !”

----

|Next morning.|

Kiryu: (It’s about time for the shop manager to be preparing to open. Maybe I can help with something.)

Kiryu: “Hm . . . ? Th-This is?!”

Oda: “Kiryu, you arrived!”

Kiryu: “What on earth happened? Hideya has been messed up.”

Oda: “It’s the Moriguchi Family. It seems they broke into Hideya last night. The shop has been messed up, and the shop’s earnings and scratchcard tickets have been taken away.”

Kiryu: “What did you say?! What about the shop manager?”

Oda: “Being treated at the hospital right now. It’s not a major injury since he only received a few hits. However, his heart is hurt . . .”

Kiryu: “. . .”

Oda: “For now, let’s clean up the shop. It may be time for business, but the event is . . .”

Kiryu: “. . . The event can be held as long as the scratchcards come back.”

Oda: “Where are you going? The Moriguchi Family?”

Kiryu: “Yeah. I know the location of the Moriguchi Family.”

Oda: “I’ll go too. This time even I’m pissed off.”

----

Oda: “Hello.”

Moriguchi: “If I’m not mistaken, ain’t you the fellows from Tachibana Real Estate? What’s this about?”

Kiryu: “We came to get the scratchcards back.”

Moriguchi: “Haw, you mean these scratchcards? Even though the shop is about to be crushed, you still have the insolence to think about events . . . But without these crucial tickets, the event won’t unfold, ain’t that right?”

Kiryu: “Return the tickets quietly. That way, I won’t have to do much to you.”

Moriguchi: “How are you two going to deal with this many people? It makes me laugh! I’m beating the fear of the yakuza into your body!”

Kiryu: “It’s easy to boast. Bring it on.”

Moriguchi: “Fine! Oi, you guys! Don’t hesitate! Do in this impertinent fool!”

-END-

EPILOGUE

Moriguchi: “Wh-What are these guys. Mo-Monsters?!”

Oda: “Isn’t calling us monsters a bit much?”

Moriguchi: “Eh? So-Sorry . . . !”

Kiryu: “Oi.”

Moriguchi: “Ye-Yes?”

Kiryu: “You’re not meddling with Hideya again, are you?”

Oda: “You understand exactly what will happen if you start, right?”

Moriguchi: “O-Of course! I-I will never do it again!”

----

Customer A: “Ramen and one drink.”

Shop Manager: “Yes!”

Customer B: “A large serving of Chashu Ramen!”

Shop Manager: “Yes! Please wait a moment!”

{The door opens.}

Kiryu: “Shop manager, is your body okay?”

Shop Manager: “Yeah, Kiryu-san! Thanks to you I’m full of life!”

Kiryu: “Hm, I see. The event seems to be going well.”

Shop Manager: “When was the last time the shop has been this busy? I really thank you!”

Kiryu: “That’s great. But now things are just getting started. After all, the reputation of Hideya’s ramen will echo throughout Kamurocho. You’ll be really busy starting tomorrow.”

Shop Manager: “Yeah. That’s what I desire!”

----

Oda: “Yo. How was it? How’s the shop manager?”

Kiryu: “Working happily. He gives his best regards.”

Oda: “That’s good.”

Kiryu: “Apparently you’re not the money-grubbers you seem to be.”

Oda: “Ha? What’s that? This matter is also business. Helping out Hideya will reduce the power of rival organizations. It would be profitable for Tachibana Real Estate in the long run.”

Kiryu: “. . . Heh. I see.”

Oda: “What’s that. Anyway, the job is done. Let’s eat. But it’s not my treat.”

Kiryu: “Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

-END-

Masterlist

#Oda here: 'haha see I am a good person just like you :D'#Oda in the next event: *human trafficking*#rgg online #rggo lore #rggo #rgg #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza #kazuma kiryu #kiryu kazuma #oda jun #jun oda

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ficforce · 4 years ago

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Burns Relationship Alphabet

Two types of F!Reader

A- Activity (What is their favourite activity to do with Y/N.) Quiet Reader: Y/N and the Captain like using their days off to go on trips, it may seem boring but they like to check out the churches on the edges of the Empire, they’re small and charming. Most of them are located outside of towns and often surrounded by green grass. They’re not as grand as company 1’s Cathedral but they’re humble and peaceful. They go for the journey more than anything and to be away from people they know - it makes it easier to be themselves. Loud Reader: Burns is rather generous and he likes to buy things for Y/N, she always tells him she can get it herself but he ignores her and does what he wants. Y/N likes clothing and has far too many outfits, a way around their disagreement on parents is for Leonard to take her out shopping for an outfit he’d like to see her in. It’s Win/Win. B- Beginnings (How do they act in the beginning of a relationship) Quiet Reader: The Captain was adamant he would never have a relationship, he had too many secrets and did far too much of the Church’s dirty work for it to ever be safe to have a partner. So when he met Y/N after a horrific fire that took her home and her roommate, he didn’t think offering her shelter in Company 1 was going to be an issue… But as she came to him for guidance or someone to talk to about losing her faith, he couldn’t help but lower his defences around her. When Y/N made the first move to kiss him, he rejected her as gently as he could. He couldn’t risk putting her in danger or having her be used as bait. She didn’t give up though and Y/N eventually wriggled her way into his arms and heart. She doesn’t mind that their relationship is secret. Loud Reader: Y/N is aware of Leonard’s involvement in the darker side of the church, she’s in the same line of work. She lost her faith a long time ago but defends that people need something to believe in to keep them hopeful, she’s a bit of a hypocrite in church standards. At first, she didn’t like the man at all, she thought he was a pious idiot who happened to be very attractive - a waste of a man. It wasn’t until she saw him completely disregard certain rules in the interest of doing the right thing, he didn’t judge and he didn’t condescend; if he did it was in order to fire someone up to make them stronger. After tha,t she began to talk to him more and at some point, she shoved him into a wall and, despite his meagre protests, had her way with him. They’re rather casual about their relationship but it’s not shared publicly.

C- Communication (Are they good communicators? How do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues)

Quiet Reader: Leonard is an excellent listener, it’s part of his job description as a priest but he’s always been quiet and prefers to hear people out. Y/N knows she can talk to him about anything, his life experience and his kindness make it easy - he never judges her. He’s honest enough to tell her when he thinks she’s wrong and isn’t selfish with the advice he gives her. Y/N is a little sad that he doesn’t talk so openly with her. She knows he’s hiding things and she knows it’s to keep her safe but also because he swore to God that he would keep certain secrets. It can make it hard for him to speak to her when he needs to and even though she gets it, it can get frustrating. Sometimes Captain Burns will simply want to hold her for a while and it helps as much as a conversation can. Loud Reader: They don’t talk about their feelings or problems very often, they both have things they can’t talk about and it’s simply not that kind of relationship. They’re experts at avoiding certain conversations, they understand why the other can’t speak and that causes some tension at times. Leonard and Y/N’s relationship is mostly physical, they’re seeking comfort, not a confidante. D- Drunk (What are they like when they’re drunk) Quiet Reader: She’s not big on drinking, Y/N can handle a half bottle of wine before she’s unsteady on her feet and feels like she’s floating. When she’s drunk she gets a little emotional, whether it’s joy or sadness she usually ends up with someone handing her a tissue. Loud Reader: Y/N likes expensive liqueurs, she had a high metabolism so its hard for her to stay at a contact level of drunk before burning off the effects. She becomes playful at that point and likes to prank people. Once that involved replacing Karim’s pillows with blocks of ice… he wasn’t impressed. Leonard doesn’t drink often and he’s yet to get drunk, he finds that alcohol burns out of his system very quickly because of his ability… It at least allows him to keep an eye on Y/N and her drunken tricks. E- Emergency (How are they in emergency situations? Y/N gets hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc..) Quiet Reader: Y/N is terrified of fire, since the incident with her roommate she can’t keep her head when flames are involved. She freezes and is more likely to get herself trapped then out of harms way. If someone is injured or it’s a general emergency, Y/N is very good at helping people and getting them to safety - she’s usually the one calling the emergency services whilst people panic. Burns really worries when he knows there’s a fire incident in her area, he always hopes that the Infernal won’t get that close but he also knows that just the thought of it will scare Y/N. He makes a point to call her before he leaves on a mission to tell her he’s dealing with it. It’s not much but he hopes it puts her at ease. Loud Reader: Some might think she’s heartless but Y/N shows little compassion when someone is hurt and once she knows they won’t make it she tends to leave them behind. It’s not that she doesn’t care, it’s just that she can’t let herself get too emotionally involved. If she lets herself get too close then she’ll struggle to keep control of the situation and others could get hurt. She might seem like a bitch but at least everyone is alive. Leonard knows she can be strict during missions and he knows that she expects him to order her around like anyone else until they’re alone. He knows that outwardly she seems fine but on the inside, she’s having massive anxieties. F- Free Spot (I’ll give you any headcanon I come up with) Quiet Reader: Y/N and the Captain were married in a private ceremony in a church far out of the way, six months later she found out she was pregnant and Leonard bought her a house in the safest part of Tokyo he could find. They have a son. Very few people know about his family and it’s always a good day when he can come home to see them both. Loud Reader:

Y/N runs a convent on the edge of Tokyo, she’s very protective of her girls and every one of them is a second or third generation. It means she’s often busy with helping them learn but she won’t let Haijima take them to their labs to ‘monitor’. There have been times she’s gotten in trouble for physically stopping them but Company 1 are conveniently always on hand to help get her out of a tight spot. G- Gifts (What kind of gifts do they give? What kind of gifts do they get?) Quiet Reader: She gave him a son. It took her nine months of preparation and it was hard work delivering such a precious gift. Y/N can’t often get him gifts because of the secrecy of their relationship and because she’s a full time mother and housekeeper. Burns pays for everything and he makes sure there is money in her account to treat herself and their child. She’ll always make his favourites when he comes home and makes sure he has everything he needs. Loud Reader: She buys him expensive shirts. He gets through them rather fast. Whether it’s the enemy or himself, they always get burnt or torn. Y/N knows his measurements and has them tailor made, another gift she’s fond of giving him is hair ties. Everything has to be fireproofed. Burns is also a giver of clothing, he knows how much she loves clothes and accessories. Her favourite gift from him was an anklet with a little lions head charm. H- Hugs (How do they show affection/cuddle) Quiet Reader: When he comes home, Leonard is very affectionate with Y/N and she still gets giddy every time he holds her. Whether it’s sitting on the sofa with he arm around her whilst she leans into him or simply standing at the entrance way when he’s first gotten in - she gets excited and can’t think. Loud Reader: She’s not afraid to hand off his arm, even in public, and he doesn’t do much about it. He tends to look exasperated with her and people think he’s trying not to be difficult with Y/N but in truth, he likes the feeling of her hand on his bicep. In private he’s more inclined to let her nuzzle into him and mumble about him being too warm. I- Irritation (What is something that irritates them? How do they show their irritation?) Quiet Reader: She’s pretty verbal when it comes to being irritated. Y/N will usually tell someone when they’re being unreasonable and doesn’t back down easily. If it’s something she can’t face head on then she’ll get irritated and go into aggressive cleaning mode. It’s best to leave her alone until she’s calmed down. Loud Reader: On the outside, she’ll look pretty calm even if she’s thinking about different ways to murder her problem. People can usually tell when she’s annoyed because her third gen ability will begin to show and the air around her gets pretty heavy. Again, it’s best to leave her alone. J- Jackpot (How would they spend their winnings if they won the lottery?) Quiet Reader: It would be nice to pay for everything for once and take the pressure off of Burns, Y/N knows their son would love to spend more time with his father so she would hope that there would be a way to go somewhere far away to spend time as a family. That kind of money buys silence and time. The likelihood would be that Leonard would suggest saving it - in case he becomes unable to support them one day… Loud Reader: She’s going to give half of it to her convent and the rest she will use to buy herself out of the dirty dealings of the church. Y/N thinks she’s already worked her debt owed but money talks. K- Kryptonite (What is their ultimate weakness?) Quiet Reader: Fire. Y/N is petrified of it. She can’t breathe or even think coherently near it. Y/N knows that Burns would never hurt her, he has complete control of his ability but even then she struggles to see him when he creates flames. Even candles make her uneasy. Burns is worried she’ll get herself in trouble because of this, she’s unpowered and he knows how fast a person can go up in smoke. Loud Reader: She made the mistake of showing her weakness and now she lives in fear of it being used against her. The

convent she runs is full of girls as young as two and as old as fifteen, they’re vulnerable and Y/N is the only thing keeping them from being used by the church or Haijima. Captain Burns knows she’ll do something stupid in order to protect the convent and he knows it will be hard to choose sides when it happens. L- Laughter (What makes them laugh?) Quiet Reader: She’s not one to carelessly laugh at just anything, Y/N is sweet but still serious at times and Leonard takes great joy in making her laugh. It can be something as simple as bringing her flowers or rubbing his beard against her skin to make her giggle. Loud Reader: Y/N’s the kind of woman who laughs when people fall over. She likes a good joke and she plays harmless tricks on people. Burns thinks it’s a little childish but somehow finds himself smiling at her antics. M- Morning ( How do they wake up in the morning? Are they a morning person or a morning grouch?) Quiet Reader: Y/N has always been an early riser and is pretty cheery, she enjoys making proper coffee and is especially happy when she can cook for several people. The only time she sleeps in a little is when Leonard pulls her close and tells her to stay a little. Loud Reader: She has to get up early most days and go to prayer, she’s so glad she doesn’t have to lead it and can be as dazed as she likes until breakfast. Burns has had to manhandle her out of bed on occasion so they can start the day. N- Needy (When do they feel particularly needy? How do they show it?) Quiet Reader: Because she rarely gets to see Burns and when they’re in a public setting they have to pretend to be friends, Y/N is very needy when they’re together. She feels like she needs to make up for lost time. She lavishes him with attention and he does the same. Loud Reader: The only times he’s ever seen her be needy were when she lost a loved one and when she let herself get too involved in a mission. She broke down each time. The loss of the child at the convent had seen her lock herself away for days until Burns had come to knock the door down. The second he had been within reach she had held onto him like her life depended on it. The second time was when she failed a mission and got her comrades killed, Leonard had rescued her and she had once more clung to him, asking him not to leave her alone. O- Oasis (Where is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?) Quiet Reader: Captain Burns wishes he could go home to wife and child one day and never have to leave. If he had nothing holding him back then that’s all he would need to be happy for the rest of his life. For now, they enjoy their trips to the countryside. Loud Reader: Y/N loves spending time with her girls at the convent. They’re such a handful and there’s always something to laugh about or celebrate. They get very excited when Captain Burns or Karim or Foien come to visit. Leonard enjoys the visits too and he often hides candy in his coat pockets - if the nuns can get to it before it melts they can have it. (He always brings treats that don’t get melted too) P- Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle when Y/N are in pain?) Quiet Reader: She’s a trooper, she barely ever complains about pain and will ignore it until she can’t anymore. She figures that it will just go away but then it gets too much and she wishes she had just taken some painkillers an hour earlier. Burns gets irritated when she gets herself in such a state but will look after her until it passes. Loud Reader: Y/N gets hurt on missions, she’s been hit, stabbed and shot at least once in her life. She’s the type of person who needs to have a scream and a little cry before soldiering on. Burns has patched her up before and she’s done the same for him. Q- Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and your relationship) Quiet Reader: “I hope you find someone you can’t live without. I really do. And I hope you never have to know what it’s like to have to try and live without them.” - Kiera Cass Loud Reader: “I love the

grey area between right and wrong.” - Dan Brown R- Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing Y/N after a long time of being apart) Quiet Reader: Burns is always flattered when Y/N practically slides across the floor in her eagerness to greet him, he takes her into his arms and presses kisses to her face until she forces him to kiss her mouth. They don’t hide the fact that they want each other and if their child isn’t in, they head straight to the bedroom. Y/N has usually prepared his favourite meal for him. Loud Reader: In their younger days they would see each other quite often but when she took control of the convent and Burn’s became Captain it changed. They were both busier, their jobs more legitimate but needing their full attention. When they meet they waste no time in catching up, they don’t always have sex but neither would refuse the other. Sometimes it’s nice to chat about dumb stuff from the past and present. S- Stress (What stresses them out? How do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?) Quiet Reader: She doesn’t tend to get stressed. If she does it’s usually because she’s planned too much for one day and something’s gone drastically wrong. Burns doesn’t usually show when he’s stressed but Y/N senses it when he comes home, he’s tired and she is always intent on helping him forget work for a little while. Loud Reader: When she’s not on a mission she can get quite stressed - it’s difficult getting thirty to forty nuns to behave themselves and not burn the convent down… Thank Sol for alcohol. T- Terror (What are they afraid of?) Quiet Reader: Flames. Her best friend and roommate Spontaneously Combusted and set fire to their home. Y/N was trapped and was just barely rescued by Company 1. She lost everything. Loud Reader: Y/N used to be an Evangelist White Clad, she betrayed them for the Holy Church of Sol and joined their underground operations to pay for her ‘sins’. Later she got out of full time duty and was able to open her convent. There’s always a fear that the Evangelists will seek revenge or that the church will threaten her girls in order to get her back to work. U- Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?) Quiet Reader: Y/N is an excellent cook and her neighbours often ask her to bake cakes for parties. Loud Reader: She can do a backflip… it’s not really unique but she’s pretty proud of it. V- Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?) Quiet Reader: Her ability to fight is nil. Y/N has never been in a fight and nor would she ever want to be in one. She’s not a violent person and she doesn’t like witnessing fights either, she doesn’t see why people can’t just talk things out. Loud Reader: She’s an excellent fighter, her speciality is knives and her ability gives her an edge (no pun intended). Y/N’s a bit of a hot head so argues with people mostly. Her fighting ability was honed in order to serve God - Don’t make her have to use it for stupidity. W- Wow (What does Y/N do that really surprises them? What do they do that Y/N really likes?) Quiet Reader: Leonard is always impressed with how dedicated she is when she sets her mind to something. Almost nothing can stop her. Y/N isn’t afraid to admit that Leonard Burns’ entire being leaves her in awe. Loud Reader: Y/N has never seen Leonard be moved once he’s planted himself, no enemy has ever knocked him down and she’s even tried to move him herself. He’s a mountain that cannot be budged. X- (Explicit headcanon. For all you degenerates) Quiet Reader: She likes to bite him. He loves when she climbs over him and teases him with her nails and teeth, considering she’s against violence and is generally sweet natured, it never ceases to excite him. Loud Reader: Y/N isn’t afraid to dominate the Captain, she knows he likes her to take the reigns for a while and it’s hugely rewarding that the Empire’s Lion lets her tame him. And of course, he shows her what she’s dealing with if she gets carried away. Y- Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly

that they can’t deal with it?) Quiet Reader: She’s a mother… there’s not much that makes her cringe anymore. Loud Reader: Y/N hates dealing with body parts. She once went on a mission with 52 and Burns, the young assassin sliced up an enemy and she ended up with a finger falling into her top. It was not appreciated and the little Joker regretted laughing at her as she yelled for Burns to get it out. Z- ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits? Both with and without Y/N)

Quiet Reader: She’s early to bed, early to rise. Y/N has to sleep alone most of the time and she sometimes can’t sleep because she’s lonely. When Burns is there she sleeps happily in his arms with her head against his chest. That’s when she’s happiest. Loud Reader: The woman sleeps like the dead. Once she’s asleep she barely moves and her breathing is so shallow, that on the rare times he’s slept in her bed, Leonard thought she was dead and had to check her pulse. She complains that he’s too hot to sleep with in the summer…

#leonard burns #reader #fire force #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai #alphabet

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merakiui · 4 years ago

Note

You got any yandere hcs of the boys before we start. Im an yandere obsessed anon who lives and brreaths reading this shit and I wanna know how fucked we can get

(Here you go, wonderful anon! I’ll post yandere hcs for the other teams soon. I’d also like to post yandere fics for these boys, but I’m not sure if anyone’s interested. >-< I’ve got two sitting in my drafts, though!)

Yandere Morning and Day Teams

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 TW: (yandere) unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, mentions of kidnapping/captivity, gas-lighting, starvation, abuse

Morning Team (Mane)

🧩 Ghilley 🧩

Ghilley is definitely a stalker. He’ll be in your shadow whether you like it or not. Nothing escapes his watchful gaze, so it’s important that your enemies choose their words around you.

He’s already skilled at sneaking around, so he’ll use that to his advantage. Popping in to give you a spook, showing up when you’re out with someone else, and even when you think you’re alone.

He’ll follow you if he thinks you’re going to get yourself into trouble again. His poor manager just has a habit of attracting bad people. Just let Ghilley handle all those vengeful spirits. You won’t have to lift a finger!

If anyone gives you problems, tell Ghilley and that issue will be solved in no time. And if you get curious and ask him what happened, he’ll just shrug the question off in a playful manner.

His behavior is unpredictable, so you never know what he does in his spare time. Truthfully, Ghilley’s either watching you or he’s playing a few tricks on those who bothered you. They’ll remember not to mess with you if they’re given a permanent fright.

You won’t notice what’s going on until everyone starts to keep their distance. Friends will make up excuses so they won’t have to hang out with you, and those who might’ve had some romantic interest in you have cut communication altogether.

When you’re feeling down, Ghilley will swoop in to cheer you up. You start to normalize your relationship with him because it’s all you currently know. No one else is willing to talk to you, so you can only rely on him.

Ghilley knows it must hurt to be alone, but it’s the only way he can have you to himself. So he’s willing to bury his pain if it means he’ll get to console you.

He wouldn’t hurt you, but he might remind you every now and then that he’s the only one who hasn’t abandoned you yet.

Yet. A word that’s become part of his daily vocabulary. A word that reminds you of the fact that he could leave you one day.

☀️ Ell ☀️

He shouldn’t feel these emotions to begin with. It’s almost...dirty, in a way. Almost like he’s sinning.

He’s not doing anything bad, though. Loving you was what got him kicked out of Heaven in the first place, but that’s not entirely evil in itself. At first, he assumed Cupid’s Arrow was the one to blame for these lovey-dovey feelings, but it’s not Cupid’s job to foster obsession among former angels.

He doesn’t recognize how suffocating his presence truly is. You’d probably have to tell him to back off before he stops sticking by your side, and even if you did something like that it’d make Ell incredibly sad. Without realizing it, he’ll start to guilt-trip you.

“I’m sorry, Manager! You just looked like you could use some company. I... I can leave you alone if that’s what you want. You might think I’m annoying and—achoo!”

Nowadays, he’s been sneezing a lot, but the idea that his love for you is what’s causing all of this never crosses his mind. He just can’t wrap his head around that. Why would love, a pure, wonderful feeling, make him sneeze?

Under that smile of his are a dozen worries. He’s afraid he’ll chase you away or that you’ll stop liking him. Ell would feel crushed if that ever happened, so all of his energy goes into appeasing you.

He’ll show up unannounced at your office with your favorite snacks, follow you around the campus, and talk to you about literally anything. He could ramble about the grass if it means you’ll spare him your time.

Ell doesn’t really know the meaning of jealousy or hatred. Having been an angel once, he’s not used to negativity. He doesn’t necessarily feel extreme envy, nor does he hate any of the Reapers, but he does sulk about it.

It’s hard to say when he got obsessed. Perhaps it was when you first met and you mistook him for your own guardian angel. Despite the fact that he’s not an angel anymore, Ell likes the sound of that.

It’s a guardian angel’s job to care for and protect humans, so surely you won’t mind if he stays glued to you like a fungus. After all, it’s harmless, happy Ell! You’ve got nothing to worry about!

🐴 Jamie 🐴

Jamie is so strong it’s scary. Good luck trying to beat him in a fight if you ever attempt an escape.

He seems so innocent and kind on the outside, always willing to lend a hand when you’re struggling with Non-Non. If he’s being honest, he likes doing chores with you. It almost feels like the both of you are working on a farm together in the desolate outdoors. Just you, him, sprawling farmland, and no civilization in sight. How cute is that?

No one suspects he's obsessed until they look beyond that soft appearance of his. His gaze will linger to the point where it’s creepy, and he’ll smile while he watches you work.

He’ll get better at technology and city life so he’ll have something else to chat about whenever it’s just you and him.

If he finds out that you’re interested in something, he’ll try his best to learn more about it. Oh, you mentioned a new movie that’s been released in the human world? Maybe he’ll have to see it for himself. Did you want to try a new pastry from your favorite bakery? Jamie will buy it for you, so you should go with him!

He’s reliable, kind, and helpful—surely you’ll fall for those qualities. If not, he’ll find another way. After all, there’s a saying that goes ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way,’ and it’s not like he’ll give up anytime soon.

Jamie likes to imagine a comfortable life with you on the farm. Both of you will tend to the land and the animals, you’ll always have fresh crops, and you'll be together forever. It’s an ideal fantasy, but if you’re not willing he might just have to lock you up in the stables.

Jamie doesn’t fret over potential rivals. If he was able to silence the thugs in his neighborhood, a few pesky humans are nothing.

He’ll get flustered when you say anything nice to him. It really warms his heart to be at the receiving end of your caring words.

And it’s even better when you're accepting his suffocating love. You’ll find that the bed is much softer than the stable. Just don’t push him too far. Sometimes he doesn’t realize his own strength, and your bones can only take so much pressure.

💋 Licht 💋

Licht didn’t think he’d find his soulmate so soon! Whether you click or not, Licht certainly feels a special connection. He’s going to flirt with you no matter what.

It’s up to you whether you respond to his playful advances, but if you decide to humor him be prepared to have this man all over you. If you’re returning his playful gestures and remarks, it must mean something!

Licht lives for storybook romance. There’s something so lovely about sweeping his true love off of their feet, so he’d like to woo you in traditional ways. He’ll gift you your favorite candies, give you a bouquet of flowers, and buy you cute trinkets that remind him of you.

He takes note of what you wear and whether or not you put on a perfume/cologne on certain days. He’ll memorize your fashion style and then try to match it with his own. Licht’s happy whenever the two of you conveniently match outfits. It’s almost like you’re a couple.

He’ll probably spray his own cologne on your clothes if he ever gets a hold of them. You’ll wonder where this new scent came from, and Licht will be over the moon if you decide to leave it as it is.

Licht will invite you on dates under the guise that the two of you are just hanging out as friends. Lo and behold, his real motive is to act like your boyfriend. If you aren’t careful, he might just go around telling strangers that you’re his partner.

He’s always touching you in some way. Sometimes it’s an arm around your waist or his hands are on your shoulders. To some, it’s just his affectionate personality, but to you it’s completely suffocating.

Whenever he holds your hand, it almost feels like he’s daring you to try. Like he wants you to run off and get a taste of the scary world so that he can come in to save you like a true prince.

He hopes that enough flirting will have you confessing. All of these romantic gestures have got to count for something!

Despite this, Licht wants to believe you love him as much as he loves you. Tricking himself is easy, but convincing you is going to be a challenge.

Day Team (Die)

🎹 Theo 🎹

Theo’s harbored some dark thoughts ever since he witnessed you and Nine in the storage room, happily playing the piano like a pair of friends. Like a pair of lovers.

Theo can’t stand it when the others are around you, especially if they have ill-intent. Whenever he takes care of bullies or vengeful spirits, he’s got this dead look on his face. It’s devoid of any feeling, and his eyes are filled with silent anger. It’s a stare that does more than curse; it could probably kill.

He’s rather clingy, always insisting that he accompany you to and from your destinations. If you decline, he’ll just smile and act polite. But if he finds out that you decided to go with someone else...

Theo wants to be the only one in your life. Everyone else is just a worthless germ that needs to be scrubbed away. If they linger around you for too long, he worries you’ll become infected.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, but sometimes you need to learn a lesson. If you’re so picky about eating the food he so graciously went out and purchased, then maybe you don’t deserve to eat at all. Not until you warm up to his cooking, that is.

He’s willing to do anything for you in order to appear perfect. If you were to tell him to shoulder your workload, he’d do it without a single complaint. If you wanted him to watch paint dry, he’d do it with his head full of you.

All he ever thinks about is you. Sure, his mind flits from June to new recipes to the piano every now and then, but it always seems to settle on you in the end.

What did you eat for breakfast? Did you get enough sleep? Would you like something to drink? Where are you going with Youssef? Why is Nine getting close to you? Why aren’t you looking at him?

Theo will know everything about you in time. Whether you like it or not, he’s going to unearth every detail he can. Even mundane habits you don’t pay attention to. Before you know what’s happening, Theo’s got your schedule memorized thoroughly.

He holds no remorse for those who get in his way. As sweet and disarming as he may seem to those around him, Theo’s wicked behind closed doors. That spell book of his has no business gathering all this dust.

🌹 Louis 🌹

Everyone assumes Louis has no interest in anyone other than himself, so it’s a surprise when he starts to give you more attention than normal.

His compliments start getting personal and they still don’t make sense. Just the other day, you were trudging through the hall, dead-tired, when Louis passed you. He stopped, smiled, and said, “Thy radiance outshines the brightest of stars!”

He’s always energetic like that, so it’s not like his behavior is particularly strange. But he spends more time flattering you than himself. His main priority isn’t his beautiful face anymore.

You deserve the world. Why hasn’t anyone given it to you yet? Fear not because Louis is determined to give you everything you could ever want. He’s a prince, after all, so it’s only fair that you sit upon the throne with him.

There’s no room for anyone else in this relationship. It’s just you and him. If you were to leave him, his heart would shatter! Sadness has never been a good fit on Louis, and you know how much he cares for his appearance. So you’ll do him a favor and stay so he won’t wilt like a rose, right?

It’s almost like he lives off of you. You’re his sunlight, water, and fresh air. Any less of your attention and he’s sighing dramatically. Won’t you be a dear and cheer him up? After all, it’s not every day you see Louis so upset.

He doesn’t want you to hate him. If you do, Louis will just ignore your hurtful feelings. He’s got more than enough love to go around. Surely that’ll convince you that he means no harm.

You’ll be treated like royalty, and everyone else is a mere peasant. Sure, Louis can say that he treasures everyone, but some people just aren’t worth his time.

Naturally, a prince deserves the finest, and he won’t settle for anyone who isn’t you.

So don’t fret! Those chains are only temporary, and once you show him some hospitality he’s willing to ease up on his restrictions. Although his sense of freedom is rather cracked.

♞ Ethan ♞

Ethan is a tough case. He hardly shows his emotions, so it’s difficult to determine how he’s feeling. He’ll never show any hostility towards you, though. It’s nothing but warmth and kindness.

When it comes to the others, he’ll give them the cold shoulder and a few cruel remarks. His patience tends to wear thin when he sees people bothering you.

Ethan’s like a hawk. He’ll keep an eye on you to make sure you’re staying out of trouble and he’ll swoop in as soon as something unsavory happens.

He’ll treat you like a glass figurine that’s always on the verge of breaking. At some point, he becomes your unofficial knight in a way. He’s willing to defend you by all means necessary, so everyone else should back off if they know what’s best for them.

At first, he scorned these feeble emotions for getting in the way of his stony resolve, but now he’s come to accept them.

It’s impossible to deter him from his motives. Once he’s got his mind set, he won’t change it. After all, everything he does is completely intentional.

He’ll just stare at you while you struggle in those bindings. If you were smart, you’d just accept your fate and act docile, but Ethan’s not a fool. He’ll keep you bound for as long as it takes.

You can try to reason with him, but nothing ever works. No matter how sweet the deal may seem, he never agrees to any of it.

Ethan will take care of you while you’re adjusting to a permanent life with him. You won’t go a day without a bath, healthy meals, or a lack of sleep. If Ethan says you’ll bathe, you’ll bathe. If he says you’ll eat, you’ll eat. His word are practically law.

Despite his harsh rules, he’s not that hard on you. He’d never lay a hand upon you, nor will you find yourself at the end of his sharpened sword. As long as you fall into a pleasant routine with little complaint, he’ll be happy.

💥 June 💥

June doesn’t realize his feelings for you are unhealthy. He just thinks they’re a natural part of life! Everyone falls in love at some point, right? So you can’t blame him when he’s doing everything he can to spend more time with you.

Your paperwork will never get done because June wants you to watch him while he trains. He’ll even show you his workout routine, hoping you’ll agree to train with him one day.

He’s one of the Reapers who doesn’t get jealous much. Unless someone’s really trying to get him to snap—which doesn’t happen often. But in the event that he does feel envious, he’ll frown a bit, his voice won’t be at its usual loudness, and he’ll sulk.

Immediately perks up the moment you give him any attention. He practically lives off of your reactions and has no problem announcing that to everyone.

June will remain loyal to you no matter what! Nothing can separate the two of you, and he’s convinced himself that you feel exactly the same. If you’re always smiling, it must mean that you accept his feelings! So then why have you started acting awkward when he continues to ramble passionately about how much he admires your strength and persistence?

Try to leave him and he’ll be so heartbroken. June won’t know how to react! Why would you want to leave? He’s never done anything that would warrant this kind of behavior. Maybe he just needs to give you more affection.

Bright and early, he’s knocking on your dorm with a huge grin. “Manager, the sun hasn’t risen yet, but that doesn’t mean we should wait for it! Let’s train hard today! Haha!”

June loves protecting you. Whenever he saves you from danger, he feels like a hero in those action movies he loves so much. Anyone would love to get saved by someone who’d die for them! This sort of loyalty will have you falling for him in no time.

And if it doesn’t, he can just create a few perilous scenarios. What you don’t know can’t kill you, right?

You’re his soulmate, so there’s no way he’d give you up in his afterlife.

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someonewhowannadielol · 5 years ago

Text

inevitable love (Yandere!Taehyung x SmolBaby!Reader)

You obviously couldn’t take care of yourself, so Kim Taehyung took matters in his own hands. Literally.

Warning: Harassment, loads of capitalism (kinda ironic that I hate capitalism, considering I’m an Econ student sigh), big dog chase idrk, y/n complains a lot lmao also she’s textbook smart but lowkey dumb,,, like me, I'm literally y/n anywaYS

CHAPTER ONE (Honestly, its more of a prologue)

P.S Sorry, this one's mostly focused on Y/N, I promise Taehyung will make it in the next chap!

Word Count: 1.4k

This was ridiculous. You had graduated from one of the finest business schools in the world, yet, here you were, sitting in your shabby studio apartment, listening to another rejection after the countless job interviews while watching the paint peel off the walls. You never really thought life would lead to this, you sitting here on your mattress, eating (probably uncooked) ramen, and crossing another job opportunity. The ramen wasn’t that bad, there were no complaints about it from your side anyways, because you couldn’t cook for shit and any food other than premade food was a waste in this household. You still have nightmares about the incident when you accidentally forgot to take off the plastic packaging off the sliced cheese before making a cheese sandwich in the microwave. Only to watch the microwave - and the cheese – explode in front your eyes. The poor baby.

Glancing at your watch, you realize that you have to head downtown to your job – which was paid under minimum wage, but it did make you better off than the homeless, and the jobless. You could still afford at least one meal a day (Was cup ramen considered a meal?) and the chef at the diner would sneakily give you food, sigh, he was so nice. Sometimes, you look back, and think where things went wrong. You were basically a child genius, always a couple classes ahead of your peers, you got almost got a perfect score on the SAT at the first try (it was a 1560!), you got your bachelor’s degree at the age of 18, instead of the usual 22. You look back and see how you used to think that you could afford a luxurious penthouse apartment in Manhattan and pay off your student loans within a year, while working in one of the best companies in world.

You did have the textbook knowledge, but who was there to teach you about the practical world? The real world? The textbooks didn’t teach you how to pay your water and electricity bills, they didn’t teach you how to hold your tears back when the landlord puts a suggestive hand on your waist, they didn’t teach you how to accept countless rejections, or how to use coupons while grocery shopping, or how to ignore the everyday catcalls, or how to walk through the streets at night. They didn’t teach you how to cope with the fact that your father died but you didn’t have enough money for a flight back to your hometown, they didn’t teach you how to not shout at your mother who got a new family, they didn’t teach you the reality.

So, here you were, two years later, serving disgusting men who harassed you, while wearing a skirt that was too short for your liking and heels that made your feet ache every single day. Somehow, it was worse today. Your hair wouldn’t co-operate, your mascara had officially dried out and no amount of contact solution could revive it from its flaky texture, your manager basically manipulated you to wear red lipstick, and these goddamn heels won’t stop hurting your feet.

At this point, I’m just going to die from the chronic feet pain, you thought.

It was just an endless day of serving, picking up dirty dishes, and of course, ignoring the occasional disgusting words of “endearment” from your customers. You were just picking up the mess of ketchup left by a couple of rowdy boys who sat here 15 minutes earlier, repeatedly asking for your number. Interesting enough, despite all the catcalling, you can only recall four people asking for your number.

The first one had been a wannabe bike rider, he was tall, around 6’4 – give or take – and quite chunky with a full curly beard down to his chest. Despite knowing some people who would dig this vibe, you personally didn’t love the entire ensemble. In fact, you cringed whenever you saw these people perform their tricks on the streets (You cringed even more when you saw them fall and smash their head open. Yikes).

You remember, it was your third day at the newly acquired job, and while you weren’t all that ecstatic to start working here (You were already looking for other, more well paid jobs with more benefits), you still respected the job requirement and went up to the customer and asked, “What would you like to order, sir?” in your sweetest voice possible.

“Well, what’s on the special menu?”

Special menu? You weren’t informed about any special menu, maybe your manager forgot to tell you?

“I’m sorry, I’m quite new here, I’ll go confirm this special menu with my manager,” and just as you tried to go to your manager – who by the way had been keeping an eye on you since you got here, you could say she wasn’t exactly fond of you – scary biker dude grabbed your wrist, a little too tight to be called comfortable, and you couldn’t help but wince.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re the first and only item on the special menu. And I’d like to order that, with a side of Vanilla milkshake,”

Okay, crinnngggeee.

And then, as impossible as it seemed, you were forced to smile and laugh it off, even if it disgusted you to the core. And then, you were manipulated to hand over your phone number.

Just go with the flow, Y/N, just go with the flow. Block it later, no worries.

He was known to be a usual customer, but surprisingly, he didn’t actually ever come to the diner after that, nor did he call you. Now that you notice, no one you gave your number to, actually did call you. Whether it was the biker, or the druggie, or the 50-year-old man who promised to buy you a yacht. Eh, he was so old, he probably died on his way home. So, you never knew whether to take it as an insult, or a blessing.

Well, this day was almost over until 5 minutes before closing down, a bunch of people, who were probably high, because of the unmistakable scent of weed coming from them – came and demanded to be served. Of course, the manager could score any penny she could, so of course, you were forced to work overtime again. Without getting paid.

Finally, a little after 1am, you could take off these horrid heels and slip into the much comfier sketchers. Sure, you had glued them a couple of times, and sure, they kept on breaking because you’ve had them since high school, but it’s okay. You’ll live.

You were halfway down the route to your house, as you tried to rub your fingers together and somehow magically take away the freezing wind this cold night brought. As you walked, you attempted to feel your phone in your back pocket – annddd just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse. You’d probably left it back in your locker or your apron’s pocket and for a second you contemplated whether it would be worth it to go all the way back at 2am to get you phone. You almost decided against it, but remembered that you would get the confirmation call from the job interview you gave on Thursday, anytime tomorrow. And so, you decided to go back. Well, this was one of the worst decisions of your life. Scratch that, it was the worst decision of your life.

You reached the diner in approximately 10 minutes, but obviously, everything was locked and there was no way you’d sneak in there because, phew, if you got caught you’d lose the only job you have. Just as you turned back, you saw the biggest fucking dog you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know much about dogs, except for the fact that you’re shitless scared of the big, scary ones – and this was definitely a big, scary one. His fur was coated with black, brown and red spots, about half your height, and had teeth that could tear a human in mere seconds.

You didn’t really know whether to run or gently walk away, making it think you weren’t a threat – you took a couple slow steps back while looking at it in the eye, but you’re a dumbass and suddenly decided to run. Somehow along the run you lost the dog. And one of your shoes. And your apartment keys. And your bag which contained this week’s paycheck.

Well, you were fucked.

A/N: Please do give feedback! Also, tell me if you want to be on the taglist for this!

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years ago

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How to design an anti-monopoly interop system

A historical accident made Massachusetts a lab for studying how tech can serve monopolies, and the moves, countermoves and counter-countermoves show how businesses, tinkerers, governments and the public can liberate themselves from seemingly all-powerful monopolists.

It all starts with Right to Repair. Companies love to monopolize the repair of their products. If the only place to get your broken stuff fixed is at its manufacturer’s authorized depots, the manufacturer can move all kinds of value from your side of the deal to their own. Like, they can force you to buy their original parts, rather than cheaper replacements. They can charge you uncompetitive rates for repairs, based not on the cost of labor and parts, but on how much they think you’ll pay before you just buy something else. Best of all, a repair monopoly lets manufacturers decide when your stuff is “beyond repair,” whereupon they can offer you a generous “trade-in rebate” if you buy a new gadget.

(No coincidence that Apple leads the anti-repair movement; CEO Tim Cook warned his shareholders that the biggest threat to the business was people fixing their phones rather than replacing them.)

https://www.apple.com/newsroom/2019/01/letter-from-tim-cook-to-apple-investors/

But monopolizing repair is hard. Even if a manufacturer refuses to supply repair manuals, companies like iFixit will step in, do teardowns of your products, and make their own documentation. If you gouge on replacement parts, companies will reverse-engineer the parts and make their own alternatives. These factors keep businesses honest: if they abuse their customers, they create a market for rivals who’ll treat their customers better.

But American innovation is alive and well in the anti-repair sector. Canny corporate lawyers have devised clever ways to abuse copyright and trademark to fight independent repair. Like, if you etch a minute company logo into all the parts in your gadgets, you can use trademark to fight refurbishment and re-importation of parts harvested from scrapped items.

Even more powerful is DRM. Thanks to Section 1201 of the 1998 Digital Millennium Copyright Act, making tools to bypass a “copyright access control” is a felony. Software is copyrighted, so if your product has a chip in it, you can wrap it in a thin layer of “access controls” (DRM). Anyone makes a tool to bypass that DRM — say, to extract diagnostic information or activate a new part — commits a felony.

A company that puts cheap microcontrollers into its gadgets can make it a literal crime to reconfigure your own property so that it serves you, rather than the company’s shareholders. The falling price of chips (notwithstanding our current supply-chain blip) encouraged manufacturers to deploy this strategy to monopolize all repair.

The automotive sector was an early adopter of these dirty tricks. Car companies hate independent mechanics and third-party parts companies and have waged war on them for decades. By adding DRM to our cars, the auto makers found a way to block third-party parts, and to prevent independent mechanics from interpreting diagnostic messages.

By 2012, the people of Massachusetts had had enough. They put a question on the state ballot that year and 75% of Bay Staters voted for a Right to Repair rule that required Big Car to supply independent mechanics with the information needed to interpret the diagnostics that traveled over their cars’ wired network (the “CAN bus”).

But the car makers weren’t going to give up on the dream of making indie mechanics extinct. They shifted their diagnostic messages from the CAN bus to the cars’ wireless networks, which were not covered by the Right to Repair law.

Eight years later, in 2020, Bay Staters once again put a Right to Repair question on the ballot. The car makers pulled out all the stops to fight it, including a surreal scare-ad campaign that claimed that allowing independent repair would lead to women being stalked and murdered:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

Despite these ads, 76% of voters cast ballots in favor of an expanded Right to Repair rule that would cover the wireless networks.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/13/said-no-one-ever/#r2r

The car makers went to court to fight this (naturally), but that was just the start of their fuckery. Manufacturers like Subaru and Kia found a truly disgusting way to punish the people of Massachusetts for having the audacity to demand the right to choose their own mechanics: they are disabling advanced features on cars sold in MA:

https://www.wired.com/story/fight-right-repair-cars-turns-ugly/

If you buy your Subaru or Kia in Boston, you lose the ability to remote-start your engine on cold mornings. Your car won’t send you oil-change reminders or tire-pressure warnings. You lose access to emergency assistance services (I was a happy Kia owner — until I read this).

This is just more of the fuckery that started in 2012, when car makers shifted their diagnostics to the wireless network. It’s a winning strategy. If car makers can maintain a legal barrier to repair, they can force independent mechanics out of business and scare investors away from parts manufacturers. Do it long enough and the car makers won’t need to fight right to repair, because there won’t be any indie fix-it shops left — all the mechanics will have changed careers or taken jobs with the big auto-makers.

All of this is an object lesson in the limits of interoperability in fighting monopoly. Interop — the power to plug a new product or service into an existing one — is a powerful anti-monopoly tool.

To understand why, you have to first grasp the fatal flaw in the arguments in favor of tech monopolies. Antitrust law (theoretically) bans companies from trying to secure monopolies, but if a company just happens to get a monopoly by being the best at what it does, antitrust says we should leave it alone.

So Big Tech’s apologists like to claim that tech is a “natural monopoly” — a “winner-take-all” market that inevitably results in a single company dominating each tech subindustry. They attribute this natural monopoly to “network effects” — that’s when a product gets better as it adds customers. You probably joined Facebook because your friends were there, and once you joined up, you became a reason for more people to join. That’s “network effects.”

Tech companies definitely enjoy network effects, but that’s not the whole story. You see, digital technology is configurable in a way that other technologies are not. At a fundamental level, every computer we know how to build can run every program we know how to write. The inescapable universality of technology means that we can’t just think about network effects; we also have to think about “switching costs.”

Switching costs are another idea from economics: switching costs are (unsurprisingly) the costs you have to bear when you switch from one product to another. Switch from Facebook, lose the ability to talk to the customers and communities and friends you leave behind. Switch from iOS, lose your apps and media. Switch from HP, throw away all the ink you’ve bought on your subscription plan (and maybe pay a fee to cancel the subscription).

All of these switching costs may seem technological, but they’re actually legal. The universality of computers means that you could absolutely switch from iOS to Android and keep running your apps in a virtual machine. There’s no technical reason you can’t install modified HP printer software that lets you use third-party ink. There’s no technical reason you can’t leave Facebook but continue to participate in the messaging and groups you left behind:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

The reason you can’t do these things is that it’s illegal. The reverse-engineering, scraping and other guerrilla tactics you need to accomplish these things without the manufacturers’ cooperation put you at risk of prosecution under cybersecurity, copyright, trademark and other laws.

The antitrust reform movement has cottoned onto this and there is a groundswell of support to force the tech companies to open up their platforms to competitors. In the USA, there’s the ACCESS Act:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/06/new-access-act-good-start-heres-how-make-sure-it-delivers

In the EU, there’s the Digital Markets Act:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/12/eus-digital-markets-act-there-lot-room-improvement

And in Massachusetts, there are Right to Repair laws.

Like I said, Massachusetts is the lab where these ideas are playing out. They’ve been at it for a decade. We should study the monopolists’ countermoves in Massachusetts because they are a playbook that will be used by other monopolists if we pass, say, the ACCESS Act.

Back in 2012, Big Car was forced to open up its wired network, so it moved all the useful network traffic to its wireless net. If the ACCESS Act forces Facebook to expose an API so third parties can interoperate with it, we should expect Facebook to pull a similar stunt.

They could claim that they are “refactoring their data-structures” to provide security, or innovative features, and feign remorse and surprise that this move means that the API is no longer useful for interoperators who supply ex-Facebook users with access to their friends and communities.

And yeah, we could go to court to fight them, or we could pass another law to try to prevent this kind of fuckery, but in the meantime, the fate that befell Massachusetts mechanics awaits interoperators. Neither small co-ops, nor tinkerers’ hobby-projects, nor startups will be able retain users, programmers or funding for their federate refuge from Facebook if it can’t hook up to Facebook. As Facebook ties up enforcement action in court or Congress, these projects and businesses will fail. When (if?) we force Facebook to stop cheating, the pool of interoperators will be much smaller. And like the car-makers, Facebook can create a fuckery stockpile, and roll out a new tactic every time an old one is banned.

But remember computers are intrinsically universal. Even if manufacturers don’t cooperate with interop, we can still make new services and products that plug into their existing ones. We can do it with reverse-engineering, scraping, bots — a suite of tactics we call Adversarial Interoperability or Competitive Compatibility (AKA “comcom”):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

These tactics have a long and honorable history, and have been a part of every tech giant’s own growth. That’s given Big Tech companies a deep and urgent appreciation of how effective these tactics are at overthrowing dominant firms. First, you make a name for yourself by selling cheap ink that works with a monopolist’s printers, then you leverage that name-brand recognition to go into the printer business! Unsurprisingly Big Tech now hates comcom, claiming that when they used guerrilla tactics, it was part of the legitimate progress of the industry, but when others do it to them, that’s piracy, hacking — digital terrorism!

Imagine if comcom had been in the mix back in 2012, when the automakers broke Massachusetts right to repair by shifting service messages to their cars’ wireless networks. If breaking DRM was legally permissible, Bay Staters wouldn’t have had to wait eight years for a new ballot initiative. Instead, a couple of smart MIT kids could have hacked those wireless service messages, designed a decoder for them, manufactured a gadget with a $3 bill of materials, and sold it for $50 to every independent mechanic in Massachusetts (and the US, and the world!). They could have raised capital to do this, promising a subscription revenue stream that would cover updates that kept the gadget current with new models of cars and new scrambling schemes.

The auto-makers could fight back, but they’d be at a serious disadvantage. If they pushed updates to their cars (or revised the systems on new cars coming off the line), they would have to ensure that their authorized service centers were current. The added complexity would piss off the mechanics paying for the companies’ stamp of legitimacy, and their customers. The harder the auto-makers fought, the more mechanics would give up on being authorized and buy the indie diagnostic gadget instead — and the more drivers would switch to indie mechanics.

Meanwhile, our MIT kids could expand into ancillary services — like a price-comparison tool to help indie mechanics source cheap third-party or refurbished parts, or third-party warranties for drivers, or… Well, you get the picture.

If auto-makers knew that committing a fuckery would immediately spark this kind of comcom guerrilla warfare, there’s a good chance they wouldn’t commit the fuckery. Large companies hate competition, but they hate uncertainty even more. Providing a standard interface for interoperators may not be their preferred outcome, but at least it’s orderly and predictable. Comcom represents an unquantifiable risk to large businesses whose shareholders get really angry when unexpected things happen.

So in theory, just the threat of comcom might dampen manufacturers’ fuckery inclinations. But who knows? Some of these companies might decide to roll the dice, driven by spite or hubris. When that happens, it’s MIT kids to the rescue, and a market for cheap guerrilla comcom gadgets that keep the independent sector going while lawmakers and regulators go through the slow, plodding business of fixing the law.

This isn’t just a theory, it’s one with an evidentiary basis. This is how previous compatibility wars actually played out. Back in the early 2000s, Microsoft was kicking Apple’s ass by undermaintaining Office for the Mac. Windows Office docs and Mac office docs were only barely compatible, and many was the time when opening a Windows Excel or Word file on a Mac would permanently corrupt it.

I was a CIO back then, overseeing heterogeneous Mac/Windows networks, and we actually started giving our Mac-using designers a second Windows computer so that they could reliably share Office docs with their Windows-using peers. In some cases, we just bought Window versions of Quark and Photoshop and got rid of the designers’ Macs.

Apple didn’t solve this problem by convincing Microsoft to fix its Mac products. Instead, Apple reverse-engineered the Windows Office file-formats and created iWork (Pages, Numbers, Keynote) a Mac productivity suite that could seamlessly read and write those files.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

That was the moment when Microsoft finally stopped fighting standardization of its Office formats, and started cooperating with the project of moving them to a universal, XML-based successor (docx, xlsx, pptx). Why not? All the obfuscation they had thrown into Office represented a major engineering headache. Maybe the cruft was worth it if it helped Windows kill off the Mac, but once Apple committed the resources to untangle Office’s spaghetti code, all the benefits to Microsoft disappeared.

Today, the comcom tactics that saved Apple are largely off the table, thanks to all the legal restrictions that have been bought and erected by tech giants, including Apple. Like, if you try to make a runtime for iOS apps, Apple will 100% sue you:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2019-08-15/apple-seeks-to-shut-down-corellium-s-perfect-replicas-of-ios

Corellium, the company that built that iOS runtime, squeaked out a very narrow victory. A broader version of their product — aimed at a mass market, not just security researchers — would have a much harder struggle in court.

Comcom and mandatory standards are complementary. Mandatory standards provide new interoperators with a reliable, low-cost way to build new products and services. Comcom keeps tech giants’ cheating impulses in check, and also offers interoperators a fallback position when an exec decides to cheat anyway.

We can get mandatory standards through a law: pass the ACCESS Act or DMA. But comcom is harder to revive. Ideally, we could reform all the laws that block comcom — patent, copyright, cybersecurity, contract, etc — to protect interoperability. But that’s a lot of slow lawmaking, and there’s no guarantee that the high-priced corporate lawyers who figured out how to twist those laws to block comcom won’t come up with more gambits.

Another possibility is to pass an “interoperators’ defense” — something like an Anti-SLAPP law, where an interoperator accused of an offense under any statute could use a streamlined court process to show that they’re engaged in legitimate interop — improving competition, security, privacy, accessibility, usability, etc.

We could use the ongoing antitrust cases against the tech giants to appoint “special masters” — independent overseers who’d have to bless any legal action taken by the company against a competitor, only after verifying that it wasn’t a pretext for blocking interop.

We could use government procurement rules: if you want to sell a car to the government, you have to promise not to sue rivals that make it possible for independent mechanics to fix that car, even if they bypass your DRM. A similar rule could require, say, Google to promise not to attack rivals who made interoperable ed-tech that plugged into Google Classroom.

All of these would leave the companies with the legal right to fight actual bad actors — companies that stole user data or enabled fraud. Even more important, though, is the long-overdue creation of a federal privacy law in the US. That way, we could have a single standard that applied to both Big Tech platforms and the scrappy interoperators that offer liberation from their walled gardens:

https://www.eff.org/wp/interoperability-and-privacy

After all, even companies that claim to stick up for their users’ privacy — like Microsoft and Apple — are highly selective about when that privacy is worth defending. So long as the switching costs are high enough, those companies can be relied upon to put their shareholders’ interests ahead of their users’ privacy:

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

The antitrust world has really started to think hard about the power of interop to smash monopolies in rapid and durable ways. An excellent new Yale Law Journal paper from Herbert Hovenkamp, the dean of American antitrust legal scholarship, delves into the legal basis for an interop remedy:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3639142

I’m really hoping that as the idea of interop spreads through antitrust circles, that these game-theoretical analsyses of the ways that different kinds of interop interact with each other to create durable anti-monopoly measures enters the discourse.

ETA: This paper, “Equitable Interoperability: the ‘Super Tool’ of Digital Platform Governance,” by Yale’s Fiona Scott Morton also reflects current thinking from antitrust scholars on interop:

https://tobin.yale.edu/sites/default/files/Digital%20Regulation%20Project%20Papers/Digital%20Regulation%20Project%20-%20Equitable%20Interoperability%20-%20Discussion%20Paper%20No%204.pdf

Image: elPadawan (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/elpadawan/10738209824/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

#pluralistic

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

Text

Country Entertainment

TITLE: Country Entertainment

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1 / ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki wooing you at an amusement part in the game area

RATING: Teen …? I think..?

NOTES/WARNINGS: Maybe bad flirting? I am trying to make it fluffy

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

*FINALLY..Read the warnings. Once you agree you can handle it…

~ ~ ENJOY ~ ~

Loki felt the gentle hand of his mother on his shoulder.

Frigga smiled once Loki took his eyes off of the huge pig.

“Let’s go see the events in the arena.”

Loki nodded as the auctioneer started taking bids. Odin threw his hand up for the bid.

A few steps away and Thor caught up with Loki and Frigga.

Thor gently hugged Frigga, “my friends are here. We were going to enjoy rides and play the games.”

Frigga gave Thor a knowing look before speaking, “have fun and make sure you eat something.” Frigga pointed a finger at Thor, “make sure your FRIENDS eat too.”

Thor smiled sheepishly. “Yes mother. Enjoy the show, it is barrel racing now right?”

“It is. Now behave."

Frigga took Loki’s elbow and guided him to the entrance after Thor assured her the things she demanded would be honored. Frigga and Loki watched the riders but Frigga quickly had a favorite.

Frigga tapped Loki’s arm as she exclaimed. "Look at her! Wow!”

Loki smiled at his mother’s enthusiasm

“She has excellent position on her horse, you can tell how much she trained! She has to be first place!”

Loki looked at the score and the girl was .63 seconds away from the winner.

“That’s a load of shit. She was the best!"

Loki’s eyes widened, "mother."

"Sorry dear. Well. I better get back to your father. You go have fun.”

Loki nodded and went in search for Hela or Thor.

Seeing Hela at a ring toss game he went over.

Hela was talking to the worker and the woman smiled, making Hela turn. Hela went back to talking to the worker. Loki didn’t feel too wanted but sometimes Hela is better company than Thor at fairs. Thor and his friends always tried to hook up with whoever they could. Their flirting was absolutely terrible.

Hela shook the woman’s hand, “bet you another 50 dollars.”

“You’re on!”

Hela turned to Loki, “dad get anything good to eat?”

Loki shrugged, “mother and I watched barrel racing.”

Loki watched the women exchange looks.

Hela gave the woman money and a bucket of rings were placed in front of Loki. He rose an eyebrow and was about to ask a question.

“You are gonna need to practice. Get all of those knives for me.”

Loki quickly caught onto the game. The rings were meant to go around the knives in the center of the stand, but to make things a little more difficult the podiums spun so the knives were constantly moving. With a few practice throws Loki got the hang of it.

The woman working the stand put the 5th knife on a pile. “He is really good.”

Hela’s smile was heard in her voice as Loki got another knife. “You are gonna owe me that 50 dollars!”

The woman huffed when Loki pointed to another knife with a ring around it.

“The freaking bucket cost 20 dollars, and he is gonna take all the knives!”

Hela smirked. “Maybe you should have bet lower.”

“I didn’t know your brother is really good at throwing stuff!”

Movement caught Loki’s attention when someone moved fast to jump over the stand.

It was a girl with tangled hair pushed back away from her face. She had a tight dark green tank top with a flannel around her waist. With tight jeans and dirty boots. The odd thing about her is she was wearing a bow around her neck.

The girl wrapped her arms around the worker. “Hey big sis!”

The worker wrapped an arm around the girl then stated, “Maggi. Fix your hair."

Maggie gave her sister a cocky smile. "I did. You know its because of the spoiled princess"

Hela laughed, "Comeon Sam, your sister is a sass master.”

Maggie’s sister, Sam groaned. “Fuck off."

Maggie smiled, "life would be so dull without me.”

Loki smiled and went back to playing the game… that he might have briefly forgotten.

Sam asked nudging her, “What place babyswiss?”

She gestured towards the bow around her neck, “Second. .63 seconds.”

Loki got another knife added to the pile.

Loki glanced at the girl and the clothes were the same as Frigga’s favorite rider.

Hella held out a hand to the woman who slaps $50 in her hand.

The sister explained to Maggie’s questionable face. “Hella said you would be under a minute.”

Maggie drawled, “How nice to believe in me…”

The sister defended herself as she set a new knife in Loki’s pile, “Listen we knew you would lose because that spoiled bitch would get rid of the horse.”

Maggie shrugged her shoulders, “Now if someone beat her time before I had to go…”

Sam talked again. “You’d be able to buy a new vehicle with your winnings.”

Another knife added to Loki’s collection.

Sam grumbled, “And buy my new supply of knives.”

Hela laughed.

Maggie exclaimed, “my jeep runs great. Just got a few things that need upgraded. I dont need something fast.”

A squeaky voice made Loki want to cringe.

“My truck would beat your shit jeep anyday. I would beat you at anything anyway.”

A few laughs were heard but Loki kept his eyes on the game.

Maggie leaned on the counter with a smile, “How about we ride something between our legs Princess?”

The supposed princess laughed. “Right and what do you have in mind?”

Maggie winked, “Your boyfriend seems ready."

Hela turned, both her and Sam laughed.

Maggie laughed as well, "just kidding but I’m not kidding when I say you guys need to work on blood circulation above the shoulders. You might not use your brain often but it’s kinda important..”

Loki sees the Maggie smirk and the princess one looks confused until she looks at her boyfriend’s crotch.

A few laughed at the huff from the girl.

Maggie continued with a dramatic eye roll, “I mean something with intelligence. A HORSE.”

The cringeworthy voice held a cocky tone. “I won first place, what makes you think you can win?”

Maggie shrugged standing up tall. “You said any condition anyway you could beat me. I want to get another shot at proving you wrong.”

The girl laughed briefly. “Whatever. Cover that huge forehead of yours… is an hour too short of time to be presentable?”

Maggie was running her fingers through her tangled hair. “Can I borrow a brush? No? Okay, I figured you always have your entire beauty necessities with you.” Maggie was working on forcing a knot to come undone. “Don’t wait up for me, I’m sure you are going to need the whole time actually learning how to gear your horse.”

The other girl walked away with an eye roll and dramatic stomp.

Hella laughed. “Well. I’m looking forward to this.”

Sam cheered, “record it!”

Maggie leaned her hip against the counter, “yeah let me know her reaction when I don’t show up.” She winced as she undid the knot in her hair by pulling it.

Loki got another new knife set down in his pile.

Hela patted Loki’s shoulder. “Just a couple more Loki. Good job.”

Maggie exclaimed, “Is he getting all the knives?!”

Hela smiled, “yep. I got 50 dollars saying, my brother, Loki, is going to get me one of every knife. With only one bucket of rings.”

Maggie’s smile faltered a bit when Loki looked right at her.

He shrugged. “My sister likes knives.”

Sam huffed in annoyance, “and he is really good at this game.”

Loki seen familiar blonde hair and went back to tossing the rings.

Fandral leaned onto the counter making Maggie eye him oddly.

Fandral winked. “You are a beautiful woman and I would love to see where those tan lines end..”

Maggie’s face fell to a stoic expression. “Maybe they don’t.”

Hela rolled her eyes and Sam glared at Fandral.

Fandral continued not getting that he was unwanted. “I would love to take you on the Farris wheel. See the fair’s lights and how the moonlight makes your eyes shine.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “I don’t like heights.”

“I could hold you and keep you safe in my arms.”

“Strong arms are not going to help anyone from a fall like that.”

“Ah yes. A graceful angel Falling hard for a man like me. It must have hurt.”

“Actually to get here, I clawed my way up.”

Fandral laughed, “all the better.”

“Maybe you could kiss my hand better after sporting a black eye for the next victim of poor flirtation.” Maggie gave Fandral a sweet smile.

“Surely a woman like you can be wooed.”

“Get a ring around the blade of my favorite knife. You get as many chances as one bucket can hold.”

Fandral sees Loki’s pile of knives, “well then do me a favor my REALLY good friend and help me.”

Maggie crossed her arms and leaned back against the stand “If he does it, he gets the date. You are on your own.”

Loki looked in his bucket and had 14 rings left and had 5 more knives to get.

Hela patted Loki’s shoulder. “Get her FAVORITE knife. You need a date.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know there was more to this game than winning knives.” Loki threw a ring and got it around a butterfly knife.

Hela took it from the pile and started doing tricks with it.

Marigold got a knife out of her back pocket and was talking with Hela about tricks.

Loki had 2 more knives to get but only 5 rings.

Fandral was only able to get 3 knives in his haste and earned the laughs of Thor.

Sif offers Fandral a fry and says, “Pitty offering”

Fandral takes it and bites it with a high head as they all walk away.

Maggie groaned. “Yep totally not my type."

Maggie held her knife still and Loki wondered if that was part of the trick. Loki had one more ring and he already knew he was not going to get the two knives left. He took a chance and threw the ring at the knife in Maggie’s hand.

She looks down at her hand and back up at him.

The sister laughed. "Well then… she’s speechless for once.”

Maggie was quickly back to her social ways. “Shut up Sam.”

Hella smirks and pats Loki on the back-“Looks like you have to go on a date with my little brother.”

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #brightsun-and-darkmidnight #chapter 1 #country entertainment

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aquadrazi · 3 years ago

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Find Someone to Carry You

Chapter 12

#PTSD

……..Qinghe…….

The first time Wei Ying woke it was with screaming and thrashing. No matter how hard anyone tried, no one could convince him that he was, in fact, NOT on fire. Wen Qing was forced to use her needles to put him back to sleep.

Lan Wangji had been by Wei Ying’s side since he himself woke up, after his own…incident. Wen Qing seemed to have no intention of making him leave, since it made her job easier by not having to try to get Wei Ying to drink water and eat something on a daily basis.

Nie Huaisang’s spy had informed them that Wei Ying had been considerably disoriented when he was found, before the rescue, so Lan Wangji spent most of his time playing Clarity for him. It was equally for himself as it was for Wei Ying. Lan Wangji was in much better control of his emotions since waking. His face back to the impassive stone it usually was. However, warring emotions were swirling below the surface of Lan Wangji’s stoic exterior.

Hope, Wei Ying is alive.

Anger, The Jin Sect lied about Wei Ying’s death.

Shame, I was in the same room as him and I didn’t even know it.

Rage, Wei Ying has been…violated.

“Lan Zhaaaan” Wei Ying let out a contented sigh.

Lan Wangji almost jumped right out of his skin. It took all his self-control to stay where he was and continue playing.

“Yes Wei Ying, I am here” He transitioned from Clarity to Wangxian.

‘Hmm” Wei Ying hummed. “I like this song.”

They stayed like that for a bit. The only sound being the sound of the guqin.

“Not that this isn’t nice Lan Zhan, but why are you here disturbing the dead?”

“Not dead.”

Wei Ying set out a small chuckle. “Oh Lan Zhan, we both know I’m dead. I watched myself go up in flames.”

Lan Wangji silenced the guqin. “Wei Ying is not dead.”

“Maybe it’s you who’s in denial. Maybe you’re ALSO dead. Did you ever think of that?”

“Also, not dead.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. Can’t we just have a nice moment, instead of fighting like we usually do? There must be some reason why you’re here…” Wei Ying’s eyes flew open at the end of the sentence, like he suddenly remembered something, something unpleasant. His face went ashen.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji started to rush to the bedside.

“I can smell sandalwood. You’re really here. No, no, no, no, no, no” Wei Ying curled into himself and let out a high pitched whine.

“Please no. You can’t. I know I wanted it to be you. But it CAN’T be you. I’m dirty Lan Zhan. Please…I ruin everything I touch. I know I fantasized about it but…please don’t. Not now. Not after…after…” Wei Ying sobbed hysterically.

“Wei Ying…” Lan Wangji was frozen.

What is he saying?

Does he think I’m here for-

Oh no

He thinks I’m here to RAPE him

Well, this is…mortifying

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji slowly sat down on the bed next to him. “Wei Ying. I’m not here for…that.”

Why do words have to be so HARD

“Wei Ying is safe now. No one will touch Wei Ying without your permission again. I won’t let them.”

Wei Ying’s crying eventually slowed to sniffles.

“I promise. No one will hurt you again.”

“Bu-but. Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why? You hate me Lan Zhan. Why would you promise to protect me? If you aren’t here for sex, are you here to punish me for my…cultivation?” Wei Ying miserably mumbled into the mattress.

“Do not”

“What?”

“Do not hate Wei Ying.”

Lan Wangji slid to the floor and summoned his guqin, and began to play Clarity again until Wei Ying fell back asleep.

Wei Ying thinks that I hate him

Lan Wangji thought back to all their interactions, seeing them in a new light. Suddenly the way that Wei Ying had looked at him when he approached at the battle of the Bloodbath at the Nightless City made more sense. Wei Ying’s refusal to go back to Gusu with him made sense. Wei Ying thought that Lan Wangji hated him, and wanted to punish him for his use of demonic cultivation.

Oh Wei Ying

……..Qinghe…….

A couple days later, Wen Qing came in to check on Wei Ying.

“Oh no. Lan Zhan you can’t fool me. If I’m not dead, then why is Wen Qing here? She’s definitely dead.” Wei Ying accused.

“You’re not dead you big idiot, neither am I. Now stop stalling and strip so I can check how your scars are healing.”

Wei Ying made a fake shocked face and clutched at his outer robe. “That is such an indecent request. And in front of Lan Zhan!”

“If you don’t take your own clothes off, I’ll just have to find someone to do it for you.” Wen Qing shook her head like she was dealing with a petulant 3 year old.

“I’m not saying that I’m not used to being naked. Just not in such mixed company…what would the righteous Hanguang-Jun think?” Wei Ying stared at Wen Qing with a mock-serious face.

Lan Wangji was seated at his guqin, doing his best to ignore the conversation where words like “naked” were being thrown around in connection with Wei Ying. He tried not to think about how he would gladly volunteer to be the one to take Wei Ying’s clothes off…

“Ack- fine, fine, fine, I’ll do it.” Wei Ying batted away Wen Qing’s hands as she went to lower his upper robe. “You should at least be a lady and buy me a drink first.”

“Wei Ying is not allowed to drink until he is fully healed.” Lan Wangji recited from across the room.

“And Lan Zhan is still a giant no fun stick in the mud.” Wei Ying whined back.

“Ah, I see everything is going as it usually does.” Nie Huaisang chirped as he breezed into the room.

“A-Sang, I protest. The dead should not have to suffer these indignities.” Wei Ying continued to whine.

“You’re not dead.” Wen Qing, Nie Huaisang, and Lan Wangji all said at the same time.

It was difficult to tell at this point if Wei Ying actually still believed that he had died in reality, or if he was just playing a bit for his amusement. But either way, the three of them had taken to just refuting Wei Ying’s assertation that he was dead, rather than try to explain to him the situation in a long, drawn out fashion every time he insisted that he was dead.

Wei Ying had been told what had happened the night of his rescue. Multiple times at this point. Either he really didn’t believe it and he was just humoring them, or he did and he was playing because he was bored. Lan Wangji guessed it didn’t really matter which. It had become…a thing.

“Lan Wangji, a letter has come for you from your brother.” Nie Huaisang handed the paper to him. “I also received a letter from him kindly inquiring as to the state of my health and an offer to journey to Cloud Recesses for more intense healing, so I think whatever you told him did the trick. Or he was being sarcastic. I can’t really tell with your brother.”

“Mn” Lan Wangji responded. His brother was probably being sarcastic. Nie Huaisang’s acting wasn’t nearly as good as he thought it was. He placed his hands gently on the strings of the guqin to silence it, then read the letter.

Wangji,

I received your letter informing me of your extended stay in Qinghe. Of course I will keep an eye on my nephew and the other Juniors in your absence. Uncle has already voiced his willingness to pitch in and take over, however I told him that it wouldn’t be necessary.

I have written to Sect Leader Jiang and he has agreed to help in the training of your Juniors for an extended time, so they can continue on with their night hunts. He should be arriving with a selection of his own Junior Disciples in a few days. I am sure you are already familiar with the ones he will bring with him. He said that they were the ones who usually accompanied Jin Ling.

I will also keep a special eye on Young Master Mo, as you have asked. Though I do believe that Sizhui and Jingyi have taken him under their wing.

Take all the time you need Wangji. I will keep you informed of anything that needs your attention.

Your brother,

Xichen

#the untamed #mdzs fic #PTSD #whump #wangxian

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johnbernsteinx · 4 years ago

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INTRODUCING: John Bernstein

“To create is to live twice.”

THE BASICS

Full Name: Jonathan “John” Bernstein Age: thirty-seven Birthday: August 9th, 1983 Zodiac: Leo Sun, Leo Moon, Virgo Rising Occupation: Gallery Manager and Curator at the Crescent Harbor Art Gallery Length of Time in Crescent Harbor: seven years Neighborhood: Goldfinch Valley [view his apartment] Hometown: Toronto, Ontario, Canada Nationality: Canadian Sexuality: Pansexual Relationship Status: in a relationship with @quinn-hawthorne Qualities: creative, nurturing, open-minded, loyal, driven, kind Flaws: pretentious, impatient, compulsive, nervous, stubborn, proud MBTI: INFJ-T “The Turbulent Advocate” Moral Alignment: Neutral Good Enneagram: Type 6 “The Loyalist”

THE FAMILY SITUATION

tw: foster care, adoption

John spent his childhood growing up in the foster care system, going from home to home until he was six years old. He doesn’t know his biological parents but is very close to his adoptive parents, which is why he usually refers to the Mannings as his mother and father, despite not being related by blood. The family fostered other kids as well, so there was always someone around. They had two biological children as well, who John also considers his siblings. His youngest adoptive sibling, Rose Paisi (@rosalindpaisi), recently moved to Crescent Harbor which he is incredibly excited about as they are very close.

THE LOOKS

Faceclaim: Dan Levy Height: 5'11’’ Hair Color/Length: black and short, usually neatly coiffed, curly if without product (aka never, unless you live with him or catch him off-guard) Facial Hair: John usually doesn’t go for a clean shave ever. He’s always sporting some stubble. Eyes: brown Complexion: clear, warm undertones Body: Average/Athletic. John enjoys excerise a lot but also likes to indulge in foods that aren’t considered good. Whether he’s keeping up with yoga, running or some light lifting, there’s rarely a day where he doesn’t add some kind of activity to his agenda, mostly to make sure he’s training his mobility. His frequent walks with his dog will also do the trick. Style: John is very interested in fashion and not at all scared to add some more unique styles to his wardrobe. More often than not, he sticks to a rather casual yet formal style, mostly due to his job but also because he likes to dress well and feel good about the way he looks. He’s usually sticking to high quality, if not designer, sweaters or dress shirts with a nice pair of pants but will also wear a good pair of denim jeans and a t-shirt occasionally. He also loves a good print. The man always looks very put together. You can find some outfits here. Smells Like: Considering his habit of going for runs in the mornings, John usually never leaves the house for meetings or errands unless he’s freshly showered. He hates nothing more than being smelly or dirty even, so he tends to smell fresh with a hint of cologne.

THE STORY

tw: foster care, motorcycle accident, injuries

Jonathan “John” Bernstein grew up in the foster care system and moved into a foster home in Toronto when he was already six years old but it was there where he finally got to experience what being a family was all about

He never met his biological parents and isn’t sure whether or not he’d like to some day. He’s in the process of trying to figure out how to go about looking for them, just to know but without success so far. He hasn’t told anyone about thsi and thinks it’s better to keep it close to his chest for now.

John is a very kind and very passionate person. If he’s excited over something, you’ll know! He doesn’t only get excited about things directly tied to himself though but about other people’s interests and successes, too.

The people around him either love him or hate him for it because he will go on and on and never stop until you tell him to. He always likes to indulge in rather intense conversations as it is and will go out of his way to help anyone with patience and kindness if they have any problem at all.

His intensity paired with his overall level-headedness is very useful when it comes to his profession though because he’s a natural at being a salesman who is always eager to network which makes renting and buying art for the gallery to help it extend and thrive an easy task (if you ignore the amount of overtime he collected over the past few years).

So basically, he’s a big softy who loves art in all shapes and forms and will go on about it to anyone for hours if they let him or dare to step into the gallery.

He moved out to Vancouver right after high school to go to university. He majored in visual arts.

When he was 24, John was involved in a crash with his motorcycle that left him severely injured and in a coma.

He made it through but the accident threw him into a spin and basically had him starting at zero. The healing process took a whole year because of complicated fractures and nerve injuries that he needed a lot of physical therapy and rest for - which only made John realized that he is not as good at taking care of himself as he thought he was up until then.

Jonathan feels incredibly fortunate to have survived the crash, despite the fact that it left him with some issues to this day. On his worse days, he’ll have a slight limp due to a hurt nerve in his leg and a pelvic fracture. He also suffered a minor motor nerve damage in his wrist which makes it hard for him to create art himself or do basic tasks, really. It keeps him from being able to lift heavy items or do other basic tasks due to the lack of strength and control. He learned to live with these remaining injuries and doesn’t really let them stop him, unless he pushes himself too hard and has to give in. He was also left with quite a few scars scattered across his body but considers them a small price he had to pay if it meant he still got to come out of it alive.

He loves to travel and did quite a lot of it after his recovery and before settling in Crescent Harbor where he’s been living for the past seven years.

John traveled to and worked in Tokyo and London the most and got a lot of his experience when it comes to galleries from his time there.

These days he’s gotten too busy and caught up in his work to even think of taking a vacation which is bad but the workaholic in him would say otherwise. Maybe it’s that or his inability to give up control - the man just needs to relax!

Despite growing up and becoming a lot more confident as he got older, John is still very soft-spoken at times but always polite and definitely happy to talk to anyone. He doesn’t like to be the center of attention and tries to stay in the background more, even though he’s not as shy as he used to be.

Overall, he’s a very friendly guy and tries to help anyone who might have a problem but don’t make him mad - the switch flips slowly but surely.

When you are in his circle though, he’ll do anything for you. He made quite a few friends in his years of living in Crescent Harbor due to that but his best friend and confidante is Diana Blackwood-Amari (@diana-amari).

Right now, he’s busy house hunting with his partner Quinn Hawthorne (@quinn-hawthorne), while also trying to navigate the ups and downs that come with being in a long-term relationship after having stuck to his own company for longer than he’d care to admit. Lets just say, communication is not their strong suit but they’re learning.

To sum it up: he’s soft, warm and friendly, very interested in art in any shape or form and just wants to be your friend if you let him! Just don’t disrespect him and you’re golden! Otherwise, you might get a pretty intimidating side-eye and a snarky comment or two.

Also, he would die for his dog, a Dachshund-Corgi mix named Merlot, and so would I tbh.

Find John’s wanted connections here, his full stats here, some musings here and his full bio here. 💕

#crescent:intro #( intro. )#( muse. )#( about. )#// i wanted to give this a quick lil update since i've been playing him for over a year now and some details were missing <3

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years ago

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History’s Finest Part 1 (KBTBB) (No Pairings.... Yet)

So this is a lil idea I had which will likely turn into a series. I don’t know how long it’ll be or who will end up with MC but I know it’ll be fun! Hopefully. If you guys have any specific requests on who’ll be the lucky guy, I’d love to know! I love to here your thoughts.

Potential Warnings: Bad language, Gun wounds, Stitches.

Premise: The Bidders have been employing a treasure hunter to bring in new and unique things to the auction, but after a year of working together, how close have they grown? And how little do they trully know about her?

~~~~~~

“She’s late. Again.” Soryu grumbles as he and the King continue to sit in the Executive Lounge for the passed 30 minutes. A new contact for the auction was supposed to meet them with an item to list, but, being consistent with the last two times they had used her service, has yet to arrive on the agreed time.

With an inkling they’ll be stood up, Soryu drums his fingers on his gun, which is rested on the arm of his chair. He stares down the elevator doors, daring them to open so he can shoot the first person that enters.

Eventually, those doors did slide open, and there, hobbling out with a brief case hung over her shoulder, stood the woman they had been waiting for. She was wearing her usual fatigues of a dark blue button up shirt, the buttons done up just to allow for a bit of cleavage, mainly because she couldn’t be bothered to be modest after her long ship ride, and black jeans, simplistic but sexy, a belt with a pouch wrapped around her waist. There was also an empty holster attracted to the back, covered by the over hanging top.

“You’re late.” Now also ticked off with his arms draped over the back of the couch, Eisuke stared down on her. Her tired, positive expression didn’t falter as she crossed her arms, trying to restrain herself from jumping forward and strangling easily her most difficult client. It was lucky she wasn’t armed. The treasure hunter had just docked off from Panama, having gone through weeks of gun fights and crumbling ruins to acquire the piece of history she had set out to find, and this was the greeting she got for recovering the relic worth millions? And who here wasn’t grateful?

However, she knew not to talk back. In her field, most people were one word away from blowing a fuse and then she’d lose the limited clientele that would buy from her. There weren’t many buyers she trusted, and the ones she had; double crossed her a number of times. And this guy was right-handed by a Chinese mobster in the heights of a famous casino hotel. Not someone you want to piss off.

“Oh, Ichi, it’s nice to see you too.” She didn’t think she’d ever get away with nicknaming the CEO of a multi-million, maybe even billion, dollar company, but every time she used it the guy’s face eased into an amused smirk, even now, when he was just reprimanding her for her short-comings. That eased her secretly racing heart; knowing she wouldn’t be gunned down right in the middle of his luxurious penthouse. Although, he was probably just worried about bloodying the marble.

“Do you have it?” The mob boss was less easy to impress, scowling the woman to high hell. She huffed out a laugh, trying to ignore how easily angered he seemed, and carefully dropped the case from her shoulder onto the coffee table in front of the CEO.

“All in one piece.” Lila decided, as usual, it would be best to leave out all the soldiers and crazed war mongers she had to fight off to get the artifact, knowing it would likely scare off any buyers that would be willing to buy something lost for centuries.

Leaning forward, Eisuke slipped on his special gloves, which led Lila to hide a smirk, before he clicked open the locked box. Never in her life had she taken such precautions when handling her finds. Usually, there would be a gun to her head and any belongings she had brought with her would alays end up as dirty as she was from sliding through mud, climbing dirt covered walls and- more often than not- blood from her or her enemy’s wounds. A life or death scenario never justified such preventive measures when she hardly ever remembered a snack bar for her lunch.

Eisuke’s expression didn’t change from that skeptical stare as the lid popped open to show the solid gold idol that laid inside. It was encrusted with green gems, a bracelet of similar design embedded in the padding. The King took no mind of the jewelry that wasn’t meant to be there and picked up the surprisingly heavy object.

“What is that?” Soryu, however, did take notice, pointing an accusing glare at the hunter to which she smiled.

“Just a present I found on my travels. Think of it as a thank you for being so accommodating.” Lila hid her own glare behind a spiteful smile. It was a shame the man was so good-looking, she would be happy to trick him into bed to sift through his cabinets for expensive things if it wasn’t for his hate for the opposite sex. Soryu merely sighed, directing his gaze to his old friend.

“What’s the condition?” He eyed the ancient Inca statue that Eisuke held up to eye level, turning it every which way to find some clue to prove it being a fake. He didn’t speak when he spotted something odd, but it wasn’t the shine from a modern day power buffer.

“There’s blood.” He swiped a snow white finger tip over the jelly substance and Lila’s face went just as pale as his gloves. As she had reached for the idol that stood above the room on a pedestal, she was shot by this month’s model of competition. The bullet ripped through her side, luckily not causing any serious lasting damage, but had obviously left evidence of her troubles on her wares.

“O-Oh, well, treasure hunting isn’t a clean job. Always getting cracked fingers and all. Nothing to worry about.” Lila was never good at lying. Not when the nuns at her orphanage asked her why her bully had punched her or when clients asked her why she didn’t manage to bring anything back from her travels- it was difficult for them to believe the cities had crumbled into the earth, never to be seen, or heard of, again. Her cheeks heated up, and not because of the light sunburn she had received being in such a hot climate, but due to a sign that she was, in fact, misleading them.

Both men grew suspicious, one raising an eyebrow and the other looking her body up and down. They never knew about her expeditions being dangerous. They believed she just waltzed into a temple hidden deep in a jungle or a cave high in the snowy mountains and plucked the ancient artifact right off the floor. It didn’t occur to them when she called to extent the meeting time to a week later that she had run into some seriously dangerous trouble or needed to rest in a hospital somewhere in the third world country she had found herself in that time from whatever bullet wound she had earned from her newest enemy.

“What happened?” Even though the three had only acquainted a year ago and only met two other times, Soryu- to be honest, both men- had grown rather fond of the treasure hunter. Although, his tone was harsher than she had ever heard it.

Lila tried her best to control her limited temper and had the body of a super model. Her manners, in the limited amount of time they did see her, were abysmal. She didn’t close her legs when she was sitting- she only ever wore her jeans or tight cargo pants- and gulped down any drink she was given in seconds. She was smart, despite looking as dumb as an uneducated delinquent. They had met experts before, they were the ones that confirmed the items she brought in, but even they didn’t know as much as she had told them. She had the wisdom of the old man she was mentored by and the street smarts to find whatever information that would lead her to her next find.

However, Lila was less inclined to respond. She was never comfortable with someone dotting on her, even when she was a kid. It wasn’t in her second nature to rely on anyone else. Let alone her first. The old man that had taken her in from a young age after she tried to pick his pocket took years to gain her trust, even though he didn’t act like he cared. She was just a scared little kid at the time, and he introduced her to a world of adventure and danger, that he ensured he would protect her from. She was heading there anyway, might as well have a few connections.

She bit her lip, avoiding their intimidating gazes.

That’s when the CEO lost his patient. Throwing himself forward made her want to step back. They played this odd dance until her back bumped into the person behind her, which she hadn’t noticed beforehand. She jumped around to see a man in a suit, who had greeted her on every one of her visits. Kenzaki, seemingly one of Eisuke’s well-dressed henchmen.

However, Lila didn’t get to greet him when she felt a different warmth on her back, rotating around again like some sort of spinning top. She was struck of all thoughts as Mr Ichinomiya’s towering figure pinned her in place. She gulped, an awkward grin gracing her lips as she tried to regain composure. The old man always warned her about going into a meeting alone. Maybe he had a good point.

“Y’know, you can just get it out with a tissue. I don’t have any on me, but I’m sure you can afford the additional expense.” She tried not to sound intimidated with a short chuckle, but that would be difficult when her tone was a little shaky.

“What happened?” Eisuke glared between gritted teeth and she responded almost instantly.

“I got shot. But it’s nothing, really. I won’t charge you medical expenses or anything and it didn’t damage the artifact.” As always, the buy came first, so she didn’t worry about her own physical health. Or, she didn’t think they cared about her physical health. Why would they? This was a business relationship. A transaction of wealth so she could fund her less than lavish lifestyle of bribing prison guards to get her out when she gets caught scoping out museums for information.

“Where?” Eisuke surprised her with his prying. Sure, she would expect him to return to the artifact and check it for bullet marks. Maybe even ask who the hell had a gun when she had never mentioned any danger. But she definitely, certainly, did not expect him to inadvertently ask how critical the wound was.

Sighing, she didn’t want to lose a client due to rejecting him, so she turned, surprised to find the hotel manager gone, and lifted her top to so the stitches that were still waiting to heal just above her hip bone on soft skin could be seen.

Although, she was trying to hide the multiple other scars she had gained over the years. A few long ones graced her arms and shoulder from grazing bullets. Once, she got stabbed in the thigh with a ceremonial dagger from Nepal. Last year, on her first job with the Black Market Auction, her leg got caught under a stone pillar from an impatient competitor of her’s who used dynamite in a underground temple cave. Not the smartest idea, and it left her with an awful looking scar around her calf from torn skin. It was weird seeing your own muscles. Bikinis and any sort of swimwear that wasn’t a diving suit were definitely ruined for her now.

“See, not that bad. I’m used to it. Comes with the territory.” She breathed in sharply when she lifted her arms to show him, trying to mask her pain with a forced smile. Even though she had been looking at the man, she didn’t notice his fingers, now ungloved, reaching for her wound because she was so concentrated on consoling whatever worries he had so she could get the hell out of there. She wanted to leave and read her journal to go through the memories of her last trip. That was her favourite part: reliving all her exploits.

A searing pain shot through her system when Eisuke’s finger’s grazed the bruised skin and she shot him the worst glare she could subconsciously muster. “What the fuck?” She screamed the instant she noticed his outstretched hand and sly smirk. What kind of sadistic fuck thinks its funny to touch up a new wound? She couldn’t help but grow furious at how he had just treated her. Who did he think he was? Jesus? Had he hoped to heal her with whatever magical power he thought he had been gifted with?

“So, it is bad?” His smirk quickly turned into a frown when he caught her lying. She gulped, not knowing what will happen next. Usually when she was confronting someone, whether a warmonger or crazed mercenary, she had a way to escape. Either through the window of a third story window in a warring city or through the dense jungle away from the excavation cite, she had the luck of whatever deity was watching over her.

But, not here. This was ‘civilised’ society. Not to mention his house. There’d be no way she could make it to the lobby and away from the gun the mob boss had under his fingers this very moment. She had had a lot of close calls in her life, but was this it?

“Any gun shot wound is bad! I was fucking impaled with metal! What do you think’s gonna happen when you stab it!” She cried, finally remembering to push her shirt back down and not touch the healing wound. She really hoped it hadn’t opened again. She had a habit for doing that. Accidentally, of course.

“I didn’t stab it.” Eisuke couldn’t help but chuckle at how loud she was being. This was totally out of character, and she, mad, was very amusing. He knew she was always holding back, he could see through anyone, but he never thought she was holding back this much.

“You may as well have.” She huffed, crossing her arms and turning her gaze away to try and calm herself down again. She didn’t usually lose her cool like this, but she found it hard to control herself with two deliciously hot men she wasn’t allowed to touch because of work, and her own chastity. She wasn’t one for meaningless exploits, she wasn’t interested nor had the time. All she wanted was the adrenaline from her treasure hunting ways. Although, she did feel lonely sometimes, especially when everyone else in her line of work were sex-crazed young adults who couldn’t seem to keep it in their pants. They were here for a fun time, not a long time.

But, the CEO’s next actions were what surprised her most. He turned to his hotel manager and ordered him to take her to a room upstairs. She jumped out of her sulking, ignoring the settling pain in her abdomen, and flat out refused any hospitality he was going to show. All she wanted to do was deliver the package, collect her money, and go home to watch a movie. And by home, the nearest motel. Lila didn’t live anywhere, she was always on the go, so she didn’t bother investing in any of the countries she had loved when she visited them. Domestic life wasn’t for her. And the glimpse of peace she had seen in her infancy showed her she didn’t want that mundane existence.

“If you collapse outside my hotel it won’t look good. Go with him.” He demanded and Lila frowned, breathing in to argue again, when Kenzaki grabbed her arm and started pulling her to the staircase. She yelled and struggled, but wasn’t as strong as she usually was with her handicap, and was taken away to a lavish penthouse suite.

“You’re happy.” Soryu commented when Eisuke turned around and sat back down, staring down at his newest treasure. He was smirking, but there was actually a hint of happiness behind that egotistic grin that wasn’t usually there nowadays. He wasn’t going to admit he had been waiting for an excuse to usher the woman into his hotel. Albeit, it was for her to stay the night with him, but he was content with nursing her back to health. He was definitely looking forward to delving deeper into this new character she had been hiding from them both.

Which made Soryu mad. He had also grown a longing for the woman, and he was even more weary about making that apparent to both his friend and the subject of his curiosity. She wasn’t annoying like other woman. She didn’t wear overbearing perfume like other woman. She could get away with deodorant and her own scent. Although, he would have to get closer to smell that on her skin. She was like some sort of divine being, sent down to test how unwilling he was to give affection to the opposite sex. And he definitely wouldn’t be mad about having her in his own apartment, laying on his bed or showering in his shower to clean off the dirt and grim she gained from her expeditions.

However, knowing she got hurt on a job they had sent her on tore. him. up. Even if it was the ‘territory’ for her profession, or she had gone through similar circumstances before, he felt responsible. If they hadn’t agreed to buy the artifact she promised she could get, she might not have gone. Truthfully, she would have just gone to the next buyer, she only came to them because they paid well. Better than collectors or museums. But that didn’t mean he didn’t blame himself for sending her there.

“Merely amused.” Eisuke chuckled to himself as he lifted the thick, bangle-like bracelet with the hook of his finger, peering at the exquisite piece while resting his chin on his fist. It somehow sparkled, even after centuries, maybe even a millennia, buried under dirt or covered in dust. The style was simple and timeless, no one could mess it up. And yet, because she had thought to add it into the brief case for him to see without asking for more made the item special. So, when Soryu got up to clear his head of his guilt, he dropped the jewelry into his pocket, planning to keep it for his own personal use.

#kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder #eisuke ichinomiya #soryu oh #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu

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