#like the shape language and the colours in her design give her such a warm and comforting vibe

[the-drawing-steve]

[taintedjeon]

──★ ˙ ̟ 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - jjk (m)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rockstar-vocalist!jk x groupie!reader (afab/she/her) 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: rockstar au 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 18+, smut, porn-with-little-plot 𝐰𝐜: 4.1k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: omg here we go... bigdick!jk, bigsize!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, she isnt bratty but she pushes the right buttons, strong language ie swearing, use of nicknames (princess, babydoll, baby, slut, good girl), now for the gewwwd stuffs ;; kissing, making out, nipple sucking, spit kink, size kink, light petting, reader goes into sub space, choking/asphyxiation, jk has not 1 .... nOT TEW not T H R E E ;; but ✨ fOuR ✨ dick piercings jahsgdfjshdh!!! (1 prince albert n 3 foreskin piercings) — n for the sake of this story he isnt circumcised since plenty of ppl on this app like to make things like that a big deal… if u do; theres the block button ok thank u bye. —the use of piercings for sexual pleasure, multiple orgasms, jk comes inside, unprotected sex, standing sex, dirty talk, fingering (oc receiving), oral (oc receiving), face ridddding, she uses his nose to stimulate.

Backstage of the venue is cold, a juxtaposition to the warmth of the crowd you had been swarmed in moments ago. Now, your body ignites in flames as Jeongguk drags you through the commotion of people; his palm wrapped around your wrist tight. From sound engineers, lighting operators, bodyguards and technicians of all kinds, Jeongguk manages to skillfully weave you both successfully to the end of what felt like a never ending corridor before opening the last door on the left and pulling you inside.

You’re not given enough time to make aware of your surroundings before Jeongguk shakes off his leather jacket and pulls his vintage 1991 Skid Row band shirt over his head in that sexy manner men do — arms crossed, gripping the hem and effortlessly off his body. Removing the shirt messes around with his already sweat soaked mid length bob that he has been growing out. But yet, as the strands fall in disarray over his face, it still manages to make him effortlessly fuckable.

You can’t ignore either his body and the way it bulges in the correct places and curves and dips in the rest. It might have been only six months since you had seen Jeongguk last, but in those six months, he has filled in his body finely — both physically and visually.

Tattoos litter his right arm in pretty shapes, swirls, designs and lettering. Beautiful colours striking against emboldened blacks and whites. He sports two barbells on either side of his chest and you bite your lip as images from the last hook up fills your mind from when you had the opportunity to enjoy them in person.

Jeongguk isn’t oblivious to you taking him in; top to bottom, head to toe, and finally he does something about it. Your back is pushed up against the door and the sound of the lock latching behind you. Jeongguk’s mouth is on yours in an instant, his pillowy lips slightly chapped from the singer being on stage for the last hour and a half but that doesn’t stop you from melting into him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, giving you ample opportunity to deepen the kiss. The metal of the metal hugging is lip is cool against your warm skin. Your tongue runs along the seam of his bottom lip and he grants you access to tangle your tongue with his. The after taste of cheap beer and spearmint gum is welcomed as the pair of you turn the kiss from passionately soft to fierce, a sense of urgency creeping into the mix as you’re both aware that you both need to get off before someone comes searching for Jungkook for his encore set.

“Couldn’t help but notice you starin’ at me through the set,” Jeongguk smirks sexily, knowing he has you exactly where he wants you. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

His hands roam all over your body as he kisses you hard. He starts at your shoulders, swiftly pulling down the thin straps of your tank top past the cups of your white lace bra before tugging the cups and feels as your tits release from the lace.

“M’sure plenty of girls were,” you’re quick to reply, voice airy with lust. 

Jeongguk breaks the kiss, saliva keeping your mouth connected before he snaps it with his deft fingers and then using them to run light, teasing circles over your hardened nipples.

“Maybe, but none that I actually want. Thought you were so fucking pretty…”

You shiver and you know it’s not from the temperature of the chilly room you’re both currently occupying.

Before you’re about to remind Jeongguk about the lack of time you both have, the dull hum of intermission music vibrates the tiny closet and his lips are on your throat and all words die on your tongue as you hiss out in pleasure.

“Sensitive, yeah?” He asks, his breath warm against your skin as he decorates your skin in tiny nips and sucks.

“Oh…yes,” you confirm, your lids fluttering shut as he continues his assault on your neck.

With shaking hands, your arms trail down to the belt loops of his leather pants and you hook your fingers through and use it to your advantage to tug him closer to you. The feeling of Jeongguk grinning against your skin at your obvious desperation for him urges him on. With ease, he slots his thigh in between your legs and uses his stance as an advantage to pry your legs further apart.

Working your own fingers on the heavy buckle of his belt as Jeongguk continues his teasing on your cunt, you manage to pull the leather in between your fingers to open him up. Jeongguk tilts your chin with his palm to continue his assault on your neck and you retaliate by slipping your hand underneath his pants. Your fingers come in contact with his hardened cock and Jeongguk bucks his hips further into your touch.

Your heart thrums against your ribs when you feel his fingers inch their way below the hem of your pleated skirt to press into the warm of your cunt.

“Warm and wet,” he whispers against the shell of your ear; his voice is enough to cause the small hairs on your arms to rise. You don’t stop the whine that falls from your tongue as he presses two digits harder against your pulsing clit. “And so fucking sensitive, just for me, pretty girl.”

You get lost in the sensation of him starting to rub you over the flimsy cloth at your cunt.

All your inhibitions are lost as your want for the vocalist grows. “Jeongguk, please,” you beg for more…beg for him.

“Fuck, yes, plead for me,” Jeongguk almost starts begging with you. “Plead for me just like you did in your videos you dirty girl. You’re so bad, huh? Sending videos of your creamy pussy whilst I’m rehearsing. Tell me, did you satisfy yourself? Or am I just too good at pleasing you?”

“No, Jeongguk, I-nothing c-could ever compare to you at all. I was only mmm-missing you, ahhh,” your voice trails off when you feel his thumb and pointer finger pinch at your clit, lightly twists.” Your body grows hot and electrified, sweat building a glistening sheen on your body at the tirade your body is going through.

It only lasts for the briefest of moments before Jeongguk stops playing with you and instead pulls your thong to the side and tucks it in between the juncture of your groin and thigh before running his fingers between your now exposed folds, feeling how soaked you are and slides a thick finger into your soft core.

“Fuuuuck, you’re treatin’ me fucking good tonight, doll,” his voice rasps and you watch as he sinks to his knees in front of you. With ease, Jeongguk props your leg over his shoulder and buries his head in between your legs and his tongue is quick to drag through your pussy.

“Jeongguk, fuck, ohmygod,” the cry is muffled as he brings a big hand up to your lips and covers your mouth. Your eyes can’t help but roll back as your cunt flutters over the thick, long fingers that help place stars behind your closed eyes.

“M’gonna need you to be quiet, babydoll. I’ve still got more to give you... going to push a couple more fingers in ‘till I’m satisfied, okay?

Jeongguk makes quick work of his tongue on your cunt. A litany of fast strokes, skilled pumps of his tongue in your messy leaky hole and now with the added addition of two more fingers, now counting three. You feel full of him as he preps you for what you hope is yet to come. It’s almost second nature for him to know when to curl his digits inside of you, a skill you’re more than aware has come from the copious amount of women he’s had in his bed. But for tonight, he’s here with you and that’s what’s important. You moan when he gets knuckle deep and causes your breathing to become erratic as both your hands tangle into the messy roots of his shaggy locks.

It’s frightening how fast your orgasm approaches you. It’s almost like he's known your body for years, and in some way, he does. Whenever his band finds their way to your town, the tirade of sexting continues from where it left off from his last visit.

“Yes babydoll, just like that, use me.”

He fucks his fingers into you and his tongue flicks your clit, drinking down your honeyed slickness. You don’t stop your hips from chasing your high, letting your pussy grind further into his face, nudging at his nose and then stopping to fuck yourself on his pretty button feature.

Out of the corner of your eye, you find a mirror tucked away in the corner. With the closest bathed in darkness, you’re unable to see clearly in the mirror, but it’s clear enough that you can make out the both of you — your hips fucking Jeongguk, using your hands to guide him into delicious positions for your tongue.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t realise Jeongguk has removed a hand from your ass, his black chipped nail polished fingernails rakes down the skin of your thigh, hard enough to leave a sting of pleasurable pain as he continues down to the knee over his shoulder.

With shaking legs, your climax reaches its tipping point and you feel yourself come at an impressive force. Your body curls over in euphoria, fingers tightening its hold in his hair as a litter of curses fill the space between you both. Your head rolls back and your eyes tighten as nothing but black and speckles of white fuzzy stars to appear behind your eyes.

Jeongguk stands up, face wet from your cum coating his pretty features and he can’t help but swipe his tongue over his chin, making a scene of tasting the remnants of your arousal that he gave you.

“Aw, did my fingers fuck you dumb, hmm babydoll? Tell me how good it makes you feel,” Jeongguk demands from you as he practically laughs at your disorientation.

It isn’t fair, you’re still trying to come down from such a powerful climax that the best you can offer him is a string of useless babbled broken words.

His laughter continues and embarrassment settles in your chest. Nobody has ever made you come like that with their fingers alone and you’re both well aware of that fact.

“You look so fucking pathetic and pretty for me, pussy stretched over my bare fingers, making the sweetest sounds. Fuck, I should record you and put you on my next record and release it for the world to hear; you’d be my next breaking hit.” Jeongguk admits and lands a slap against your asscheek, the bite of his skin against yours causing you to hiss.

Eventually, you’re able to prop yourself up on your elbows on top of a stack of black equipment boxes that are kept behind the stages and cock your eyebrow up at him.

“Jeongguk, is that the best you’ve got?” You smirk, knowing you’re pouring gasoline all over an already raging fire.

Jeongguk walks towards you and traps you in between his body and the boxes you're using as a support beam. He lifts his hand in the air and the next thing you know, a dim light flicks to life and lights the closest in a warm yellow glow.

You’re able to take in the sight of the man in front of you for the first time since entering together. His once precise eyeliner and eyeshadow is smudged down his cheeks but in a way that makes him look fucking delicious. His chest is heaving with every shallow breath he takes and you’re awestruck at the beauty of him.

“Tell me what you want.” His eyes are darkened with unbridled lust as he wraps his tattooed hand around your throat and squeezes at the sides, watching your eyes roll back. Jeongguk truly does know your body like a well versed chorus and it makes your body thrum with want. “Good girls use their words.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

He towers over you easily as he stares down at you. His thumb glides over your lower lip and you open your mouth at his silent request. A train of spit is released from his mouth as he watches it slowly pool at the back of your mouth. Jeongguk follows his fluid and presses his lips to yours in a languid kiss, his tongue instantly twisting with yours nastily. You’re still able to taste your cum on his tongue and your pussy throbs for more of him.

It’s effortless how he breaks your lewd kiss and is able to manhandle your body, twisting you around so your back is facing him and he kicks apart your feet like he had done earlier.

“How badly do you want me to fuck you?"

You back your ass into the crotch of his leather pants as you feel him rustling behind you to remove his clothing just enough to release his cock. You move your hips against him, feeling his cock in between your asscheeks as you move to sensual rhythm. “So fucking badly. Remind me what your cock feels like.”

He grabs at your arm and pulls it towards his covered cock. You take the hint and wrap your hand around his twitching length, giving him a teasing squeeze when you feel it. You’re back at standing straight and you turn back around to face Jeongguk, peeking down towards cock.

“What is that?”

“This?” he pulls his boxers down by the hem just enough to reveal the blue jewel piercing. “I’m so glad you asked. I did this for you.”

“You got your dick pierced for me?”

He laughs. “No baby,” this time he pulls his black Calvin Kleins to his mid thighs and reveals one by one a new piercing decorated with a different colour gemstone until he reaches his tip, decorated with a prince Albert with pink gemstones on either side of the bar. “I got my dick pierced four times for you. Each one a favourite colour of yours so when I fuck you, you can watch as the colours disappear inside of you.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the thought of how they’re going to feel as he fucks into you and you moan pathetically. You can’t look away from them. The pink prince Albert sits prettily at the top of his cock as a puddle of pearlescent precum allows the pink to look vibrant. Following that are three foreskin piercings, again all different coloured stones locking the metal bars in place. There is a purple set first, a green set in the middle and then your favourite colour at the end, nearing the base of his cock — blue.

He is so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear. “Now, let me use these how they were intended to be fucking used — to feel you wrapping yourself around my cock like an obident slut.” He presses a kiss against your shoulder and manhandles you back in place. “Bend over and spread yourself open,” he growls.

Doing as you’re told, your tits press into the cold metal boxes as you bend yourself to his liking before reaching behind you and spreading your ass open for Jeongguk, displaying your pussy, showing how wet and ready you are for him.

He uses this as an opportunity to bend down to your cunt and spits directly at your hole, watching as you clench around nothing in anticipation for his cock. You looked behind you to see him grab at his cock, lining himself up to your quivering cunt.

“Before I fuck you, there’s one rule you follow,” he groans.

“W-what?” You ask, your breathing all over the place as you wait somehow impatiently for the one thing you have waited six months for.

Jeongguk prods his tip at your entrance and watches as his cum coats your entrance, but never quite pushes himself in yet. “Every inch I fill you with, I want you to count every piercing you feel on my cock—”

“Fuck, Jeongguk!”

“There’s four in total, princess. Once you’ve counted the forth one, then you’ll know you’ve taken all eight inches of me. If you fail to count, I’ll pull out and he can start again until you get it right. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

Jeongguk places a hand at your hip and lines his cock up to you one more time. Slowly, he eases into you and your head falls forward against the boxes. The feeling of his prince albert piercing intruding your small hole causes goosebumps to rise and your breath to falter.

“Count. I’m not going to tell you again.”

With a shaky voice, you obey. “One.”

He stops for a moment, catching his own breath as the reality of the situation catches up with him as he takes in the fact he is back burying himself in his favourite pussy. Definitely one of the greatest parts of him touring the world is your cunt.

Jeongguk manages to compose himself and ease himself further into you, watching as he’s coming up to the first piercing on his foreskin. Just like the first one, he nuzzles the piercing over your clit and moves his hips in a way where it rubs over your clit. Your fist clenches as you feel him tease you and just as you’re about to urge him to go faster, he finally sinks the second bar into your snug core.

“T-two.”

This time, Jeongguk doesn’t waste any time and continues to sheath himself, feeling you wrapping around him. He can’t see you but he knows by how boneless your body has gone that you’re experiencing a whole new high. Better than any drug could give. He reaches piercing three, the green gem glinting from the small lightbulb above before disappearing fully.

He’s only three piercings in and you feel full already, unsure of how there can be any more of him for you to take. His cockhead already feels as if it’s touching your cervix. You know already that by the time the last cock piercing is in you that your tummy will be bulging from his size.

“Shit, there’s just one more. You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk purrs his affirmation and you perk up at his approval. “Wan’ you to touch yourself.”

You’re too blissfully fucked out already to be bratty, your mind too far in subspace. Your hand wanders in between your legs, towards your cunt. Pressing two fingers to your clit, you begin to rub in a near perfect circular motion.

“Please, Jeongguk, wanna be your g-good girl,” you hiccup.

Jeongguk uses your distraction as his opportunity to sink the last remaining piercing into your poor pussy, feeling you release more of your honey onto him, helping ease him into you just the way he likes.

Not even your favourite dildo can replicate the feeling that this is giving you right now. You have never felt pleasure like this nor do you think you ever will again until the next time you see him.

“F-four…”

He bends down over you to give you a moment to recuperate. His chest is against your back and he presses a kiss to the back of your head.

“Gukkie, move.”

With both of his hands now situated at either side of your hips, Jeongguk pulls out of you and you're forced to feel the jewellery leaving your cunt before he drills back into you, the metal piercings acting as ridges against your soft walls.

Wails and whimpers fall from your lips like a sinful prayer and right now Jeongguk truly did wish this was something he could record. Not for a record as he previously mentioned but for himself.

“More,” Jeongguk moans at your pleas and thrusts forward roughly.

Your heart beats in overtime to keep up with the excretion that your body is going through, sweat clinging to your skin and eyes rolling backwards as he begins a pace that has you seeing stars. His cock rubs so deliciously at your g-spot, every inch he pulls out of you is covered in a bubbly white consistency of your mixed cum.

“Wish you could see what I see, babydoll. Your cunt is such a perfect fit for my big cock.” He punctuates his words with a slap to your ass as he continues to fuck himself in and out of you at a ruthless pace.

You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Jeongguk, and you don’t regret the image. His head is thrown back as he uses one hand to run through the strands of sweat slicked strands from his forehead as they merge together with the hair at the crown of his head. His face has darkened and his eyes are screwed tight in pleasure. You clench your cunt around him, enticing a sinful beautiful moan from him.

“I can take it, Jeongguk! Have always been able to look after you!” Your words aren’t lost on Jeongguk as he chases his high, taking you along for the ride too.

“Jeongguk, please, ohmy—, I’m gonna cum for you,” the words spill from your lips in a high pitched cry as your fingers work once more to rub yourself further to your hight. That’s all Jeongguk needs to hear. He places a hand on the centre of your stomach and the next thing he knows, he’s spilling his own seed into your spent cunt. Ropes of white fill you up and he feels as your stomach bloats just ever so slightly at the load he’s disposed of inside of you.

It doesn’t take you long to feel the frantic burning sensation inside of you snap at the feeling of Jeongguk’s cum filling you up completely before you’re now coming around his cock that is still snuggly stuffed inside of you to the hilt. Your body shakes and your legs are on the verge of giving out at the power of your orgasm that you quickly throw a hand around Jeongguk’s neck to pull at the strands to keep yourself upright.

Time passes as you stand there together, basking in the afterglow of rough sex that has definitely now made him late to the stage for his encore set. It doesn't look like Jeongguk is in any rush to go anywhere though as he whispers quiet little ‘shushes’ in your ear, knowing that you enjoy the little sounds of endearments he feeds you as you come out of your sub space.

Pressed against his soft, warm chest, you're able to hear the beating of his heart under his skin and your mind silently counts in time with every beat. He still has his arm around your waist as both of you still pant from your recent orgasms.

“You should go, Jeongguk, you have a show to finish,” you whisper, knowing he should leave you to finish what he started but you still don’t untangle yourself from his arms.

“I know. But I don’t want this to be the end. Once I get on that stage and finish my set, I’ll be dragged back into a van and taken to the next place when all I want is to be here with you.”

Warmth blossoms over your body at the admission and you can’t help but want more of him too. However, when you both started this, you knew of the implications and the risks.

Jeongguk eventually sits you down and reaches for his discarded band tee and dresses you in it, knowing you’ll keep it until the next time you see each other again. He dresses himself back up, pulling his pants up and redoing the buttons. He picks up the leather jacket and hands it to you with a kiss on top of your forehead.

His lips linger longer than any previous kiss like this he’s given you.

“Jeongguk, please go and finish your set.”

“I’ll see you next time, yeah?” And you nod your confirmation. You’ll always see him again.

He eventually pulls away from you and clicks open the door, slipping out and leaving you in the closest on your own.

“Jeongguk, where the fuck have you been? You’ve kept us waiting!” The voices dissipate the further they walk away. In your hazy, lust clouded mind you decipher that the voices to be his managerial staff or his fellow band members.

You sit by yourself in the small space which now feels too big with just yourself inside. The dull sound of drums and an electric guitar vibrates through the backstage area and you sit in your own company and listen to what you can of the music.

“Until next time.”

© 2023 taintedjeon on tumblr. all rights reserved. nobody has consent to modify, plagiarize and/or repost my content on any social media without my consent. they may also not distribute or translate any work to other site or blogs. anybody found doing so will be permanently blocked and reported.

[bluestarlett]

Do you have any tips to give when it comes to designing characters? Especially regarding clothing?

oh my goodness okay so… first of all, keep in mind your character’s setting, personality, their culture, et cetera.

Is the area they live in warm or cold? Do they prefer to be warm or cold? Are they insecure about their body or do they just prefer to dress more modestly? Are they willing to show off some skin?

do they like tight, thick clothing or do they hate feeling restricted? Do they want stiffness or do they want to feel the wind blow through their sleeves and pants? Keep in mind your characters abilities/hobbies/job, et cetera! If they do a lot of things that require agility and mobility, make sure they don’t wear anything that could restrict their movements. They need to be able to move quick and freely.

finally, shape language! Do you want your character to feel stiff or loose? Soft or rigid? Somewhere in the middle? Do you want your character to feel strong? Shy? Gloomy? Approachable?

For stronger, firm characters, I recommend angular, boxy clothing. Padded shoulders and straight slacks and skirts are good for portraying this! For approachable, kind characters, loose fabric that is light and flows with the breeze is good, and long, heavier fabrics are good for shy or gloomy characters. Here’s cosmic as an example and then a few other characters!

Note how Saturn’s coat takes up a lot of space, makes their shoulders seem squared as if they’re holding their head higher than the others. It makes them seem firm and bold, and confident! They also stand out more because of the contrast of the cooler blue hues in their arms(legs?) against the warmer, beige tones in their coat and the warm brown in their hair.

Seraph’s clothes are loose and lighter, don’t take up as much space as Saturn’s—however some parts still do! His wings, halos and his sleeves, for example, are extremely long! This is because while he is not as bold and loud, as strong and confident as Saturn, he still carries himself with a lot of comfortability and pride. His design also is more eye-catching because of the stark contrast between the dark purple of his belt, the white in his toga and the browns in his skin and hair!

Aster, meanwhile, is generally much smaller than the other 2 and gets drowned out a little bit by the weight of her hair and clothes. Her skirt also pools around her feet, tethering her to the ground almost! Shes got much softer edges than the others 2 and takes up as little space as possible—her clothes are also much darker and muted compared to the others 2—also, all her clothes are much heavier and weighed down, they’re very droopy which portrays a much more gloomy vibe.

*edit, playing into the temperature thing; Tycho is super cold! It’s always snowing there. Saturn is cold-blooded so they have to dress warmer, whilst Seraph is somewhat of a walking space heater. Aster might not look too dressed for winter but her skirt is removable and doubles as a cloak! She has pants underneath. :]

other examples include!!

Misery from Ruby Gloom! Misery is a very anxious and melancholy character, and she’s very hesitant to do anything out of fear of causing problems. Her clothing design reflects this! She’s much darker compared to the rest of the cast and almost all of herself save for her face is hidden. Her colours are also much more muted and dull, and there isn’t as much contrast between them as there is with characters like Ruby or Frank and Len. All of her clothes are long and hang down and, much like Aster, tether her to the ground. She also takes up a little less space than almost the entire rest of the cast.

Another example is Hobie Brown/Spiderpunk! His clothing is all very angular and dramatic, with a lot of rigid lines and sharp edges, as well as stiff, heavy fabrics like leather and denim. Hobie is a very unapologetically confident character! I won’t go into too much detail because I’m quite sure everybody knows who he is, but he’s extremely nonconformist and a complete anarchist, and is quite proud about it. Even though most of his clothes are in darker, muted hues, his design is very loud and hard to ignore. Also the classic blue and red of almost every Spider-Man design is just as smart, as they’re (almost) completely contrasting colours, so they still catch your eye.

Lastly is Darryl from TGaMM! While he’s a little shit sometimes, he’s ultimately still a good friend and brother to Molly, and is generally just having fun without any malice in mind. He’s very laid back and approachable, but not as excitable as Molly! (Important; Molly's design is much more rigid and high-contrast compared to Darryl’s! Darryl’s colour palette is more muted and harmonious while Molly’s is a little more all over the place, though it’s still not an eyesore. You feel me?)

I hope this helped! If you have any more questions that I didn’t answer or if you need me to elaborate on something feel completely free to let me know!!

[mutedeclipse]

something that bothers me sometimes, as a semiprofessional character designer.

hot take: mermaid bomber from jetters is much better designed than bomber mermaid from online, a tumblr post from an idiot with too much free time... below the cut!

intentionally inflammatory title and thesis statement aside, i have strong opinions and i hope to be heard out here

lets start with the first thing i notice people have a problem with, her colours. the warm green/cool pink used in her design are complementary and don't compete with other characters of similar colour ranges. while i do agree the softer salmon, cooler green and yellow toned orange of bomber mermaid have a more pastel and harmonious appeal... mermaid bomber (i would assume) is coloured the way she is to be clearly visible on an older television and through compression.

pictured above, an example of her being clearly visible in a distance shot, bomber mermaid could never

SURE they may clash at times especially outside of the lighting of a scene, but looks gorgeous in lighting that complements her. lighting that would also render bomber mermaid's colours nigh indistinguishable from the backdrop of any given scene

an example of a scene with extreme lighting i think would be a detriment to bomber mermaid's colour scheme.

I'll admit the sheer amount of colours are a little unnecessary its quite in line with the other characters on the show. ESPECIALLY the other shitennou who are eye catching on purpose for reasons that feel like it further serves the 'they're different from other combined bombermen and don't quite belong' narrative. Mermaid bomber looks like a whole ass character, bomber mermaid strikes me as much more 'villain of the week' with a cutesy spin

moving on to her structure as a character... her design was made to have a DISTINCT silhouette!! both do, actually... but the online portrayal feels quite generic in comparison to jetters' while still following shape language its loose, doesn't indicate much shes a bomber first and foremost. mermaid bomber's design follows the philosophy of what i will call a teardrop type character (a combination of triangles and circles) giving her a quite regal, even cunning edge to complement her round and cute features... which I'd say fits her character well. shes a spoiled daddy's girl princess who uses her cute charm. her much more overt femininity ALSO is important to this fact, its how she gets her way!

the scales on her limbs resemble arm and leg warmers respectively (quite popular with teens at the time) the latter of which popularly being worn with miniskirts, her skirt like fin reminiscent of a pleated skirt. her prominent amount of scales remind me of sequins. hell, her whole vibe REEKS of y2k in incredibly subtle and unique ways its so beautiful now that I've noticed it.. this inherently bold sense of fashion distinguishes her from other female characters (such as misty or shout) on the cast, her tall stature distinguishes her from other bombers.. the only other main character bearing a shadow of resemblance is young momo! which i find neat for a couple reasons I'm sure you could deduce yourself.

her fin on her back makes her look much more dangerous and reminds you that shes meant to be a weapon, along with her belt and much more mask like face shape. along with the sharper points but these details are subtle enough to overlook from an in universe perspective

screenshot from whataboutfractions, seriously guys she has a tail too and it rocks.

i was going to add thunder but the making of this post was so long, i feel like he gets a lot less flack for his design and i wanted to express my love for character design today, that and point out to people who probably agree with me why mermaid's design is important.

[guyhobbsart]

Week 9: Fri - Fmp

For this week we was tasked to research 3 artists that we could take from in our concept art pieces. I wanted to research specifically mark making and colour in this experiment.

My first artist was Cara Wang. She uses quite flat and vibrant colours throughout her work and uses characters who are expressive and drawn in a way to convey a message through different shapes and sizes, instead of drawn to strict proportions. Her work stood out for me for the grainy mark making and effective colours. She is predominantly  a physical artist who uses physical techniques to amplify her work. While her characters are a lot more flat than the ones I want to animate, I absolutely love the style and will try my best to replicate the warm and playful and almost childlike vibe her work gives off. You can see clear connection and expression in her illustrations and they come off very charming, which is something I like a lot.

My second artist is Julia Prokhotskaya. Julia uses pastels, pencils and water colours to make her work. She makes dynamic, character focused pieces that, again, have this childlike innocence to them. The staging of her work is very appealing and lends itself very well to storytelling. The main thing I liked from her work was how she portrays her characters. They are always very integrated in the scene, with a clear state of mind and predictable action. This is something I like as I know it Is something I must improve on for this project. Her work is very calming and pretty to look at, the space is used effectively and everything in her work serves to further the story the image she’s telling which I love.

My final artist is Alexandra Ball. She carries the same motif of soft colours and quite flat characters. she is very strong in her shape language and looks to use predominantly water colours for her pieces. they are all very story rich and i love how she personifies the animals in her pieces. they all have clear and exaggerated characteristics and make them extremely interesting to look at. while i have no characters in my story i will absolutely be referencing how she exaggerates these shapes to show off their personalities. Her staging is also very strong, with a clear show of depth and placement, with all characters being in interesting and leading poses, her art is super appealing to look at and its texturing adds to this.

This week i also had to progress with the physical tests by making 3 more, 2 more digital and then a final concept piece. i decided to then use a different photo to before. this was to further test how familiar i am with the technique and i feel as though it did indeed test that. i did a pencil, a black and brown brush pen rendition as this was all the materials i had at home. im quite happy with how they turned out, specifically the pen one.

i then wen ton to make the next 2 digital paintovers. i tried one in the style that i did before and then one in a style closer to the artists i have looked at and also the render i had already made. i really like the 2nd image, its very soft and calming image. i think i got the colours right which was the most important thing for me.

for the concept piece i added in the characters i had designed before running around, showcasing their personalities. Becky, chasing after and trying to control her youngest brother, who is running off on his own hastily, then their sister Olivia who is stood aloof, completely oblivious to everything. if i had more time this week i wouldve made a whole seperate image so im not feeling the best about this image but i really have been strapped for time this week. all things considered i am happy with this piece though.

[ronaldanthony4]

I’ve created another digital art piece, diving into the world of fan art once more. This time, I’ve featured Dora Márquez, the iconic adventurer of “Dora the Explorer.” She’s the main protagonist and hostess of this beloved television series and has also appeared in spin-offs like “Dora and Friends: Into the City!” and “Go, Diego, Go!” The moment I chose Dora as my subject, I felt a surge of nostalgia and excitement. After all, Dora isn’t just any character; she’s a hero and a symbol of curiosity, kindness, and resilience—a character who’s shaped so many childhoods, including mine.

In my artwork, I decided to portray Dora as the young, lively girl we first met on her early adventures. She’s as curious and spirited as ever, yet I’ve added some hints from her updated design in the 2024 reboot. I wanted to blend the classic Dora with the modern touch that newer generations recognise. Her skin is a warm, dark peach, almost verging on orange, which makes her stand out beautifully against the vibrant jungle backdrop. Her brown bob-cut hair, styled in its familiar way, frames her face with an innocence and energy that feels timeless. Dora’s brown eyes are wide and expressive, capturing that spark of curiosity she’s always had—the very spark that’s drawn children and adults alike into her world of exploration and wonder.

As I painted Dora’s outfit, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction seeing each detail come together. She’s wearing her iconic pink t-shirt, layered over a purple shirt that peeks out subtly from underneath. It’s a small detail, but one that adds depth to her look, connecting her older design with her refreshed 2024 appearance. Her orange shorts bring a burst of brightness to the outfit, harmonising with her yellow sports socks, which peek out from her purple and light pink sneakers. Each colour and element of her clothing feels intentional, designed to embody the cheerful, adventurous spirit that Dora represents.

One little detail I’m particularly fond of is the yellow bracelet she’s wearing on her right wrist. There’s a small blue flower on it, giving the accessory a youthful charm. In my imagination, this bracelet was a birthday present Dora received when she turned four—a symbol of love from her family, a simple but precious keepsake that she treasures. It’s the kind of thing that feels like it carries stories within it, representing her connection to her family, even though she spends so much time outside exploring.

Dora’s kindness shines through in her interactions with others, and I wanted to capture that in her expression. She’s the kind of character who doesn’t hold grudges, not even against Swiper, the sneaky fox who constantly tries to swipe her belongings. Swiper might be a nuisance, but Dora doesn’t let frustration or anger get the best of her. She remains patient, even understanding, and always ready to give others a second chance. It’s one of the things I admire most about her—a rare quality, especially in a world where forgiveness and patience can sometimes feel like weaknesses. Dora shows that these qualities are strengths, ones that make her the beloved character she is.

Of course, Dora’s adventurous spirit goes beyond her kindness. She’s a girl who values her family deeply, though her life of exploration often keeps her outdoors, far from home. Family is her grounding force, her inspiration. She shares bits of her traditions and customs with her friends and viewers, but she does so gently, never forcing her way of life on anyone. She introduces new ideas, food, and language with subtlety, allowing others to appreciate them without feeling pressured. In a way, I wanted my artwork to reflect that spirit of openness and warmth as if Dora is inviting anyone who looks at her to join her on an adventure, to learn a new word, or to try something different.

Her bond with her best friend, Boots the Monkey, is another element that makes Dora special. Boots became her friend after she helped him save his beloved red boots from Swiper. I imagine that moment solidified their friendship, creating a connection that has only grown stronger over time. Though Boots doesn’t appear in this particular artwork, his presence is felt in the way Dora carries herself. She’s not just an explorer but a friend who values loyalty, kindness, and shared experiences. When I look at her expression, I imagine she’s thinking about her next adventure with Boots by her side, ready to face any challenge together.

Sports are a big part of Dora’s life, too. She’s an athlete, with a particular passion for soccer. I can picture her playing with boundless energy, her laughter ringing out as she chases the ball, her eyes focused and determined. She even played on a baseball team with Boots and other friends, coached by her father. It’s touching to think about how her father must feel, seeing his daughter’s enthusiasm and drive. In my mind, that’s the only “job” he’s ever needed—to support Dora in her passions and encourage her to follow her dreams. Soccer, however, is where she truly shines. She’s not just good at it; she excels, embodying the competitive spirit while remaining the same kind-hearted girl we know and love.

Music is another passion of Dora’s, and it’s something I’ve woven subtly into her character as I illustrated her. She’s skilled at playing the wooden flute and the guitar, which adds another layer to her creativity and her connection to her cultural roots. Through music, Dora expresses herself in ways words cannot. I imagine her sitting by a campfire, strumming her guitar and singing softly in both Spanish and English, sharing stories through melodies that reflect her journey and the people she’s met along the way. It’s a side of her that feels deeply personal, a reminder that there’s more to Dora than just her adventurous spirit.

Dora’s bilingualism is one of her defining traits, and it makes her so relatable to children around the world. She’s fluent in both English and Spanish, and she uses this skill to bridge cultures, teaching viewers new words and phrases. She’s like a little teacher, guiding children through the basics of Spanish in a way that feels natural and engaging. She doesn’t just teach vocabulary; she helps viewers see the world through a different lens, one that values diversity and understanding. In my artwork, I wanted to capture that sense of openness and curiosity, the feeling that Dora is always ready to learn and share what she knows. Her role as a translator for characters like Tico and Señor Tucán shows her empathy and understanding, making her not just a friend to her fellow characters but also a bridge between worlds.

As I finished the piece, I took a moment to step back and appreciate the details, the colours, and the expression on Dora’s face. This artwork isn’t just a tribute to her character; it’s a reflection of everything she represents. She’s a character who has grown with us, and who has taught us to be kind, brave, and curious. Dora’s adventures aren’t just physical journeys; they’re journeys of the heart and mind, lessons on how to treat others, and reminders to embrace the unknown with a smile.

In the end, I feel this artwork captures Dora’s essence—a young Latina girl who, despite her youth, embodies wisdom beyond her years. She’s a character who has shown us that heroes don’t always need capes or superpowers. Sometimes, all it takes is a backpack, a sense of adventure, and a willingness to see the good in others. I hope this piece brings a bit of that magic to everyone who sees it, a reminder of the boundless spirit that lives within all of us, waiting to explore, learn, and connect with others. As I sign my name on this digital canvas, I know that this piece will always hold a special place in my portfolio, a tribute to a character who has shaped so many lives, including my own.

[bangtailshortfilm]

I'm happy to say I finally finished up the final designs for Lila our sweet puppy and the fiery Annabelle. They have been approved and I have even begun building the rigs!

Lila's design was proving to be difficult. Designing a quad animal wasn't something I was familiar with, and getting the design to show off her personality was a challenge for me.

I started by getting a rough idea of how Lila would look stylistically. I ignored anatomy and function and just tried to find what vibe she would give off.

This design was too stiff and un-dog like for my taste, but it gave me a change to find the right shape language that would influence the design moving forward.

I took another swing, this time focusing on anatomy, proportions, and simplifying/stylizing real life dogs. Even in these sketches and traces of images, I was keeping my original shape language in mind. This gave me a better understanding of how she would move, fit into the world, and be built during the rigging process.

I took these concepts to my design instructor and we spend some time picking our favorites and frankensteining elements together to create Lila's rough design.

The turn around was my biggest struggle during this process, I wanted her chunky squat design to read clearly and have it be obvious that she is a dog and not just a vague fluffy animal. I also took this opportunity to play with her colour palette. In the end my instructor and I agreed that she looked too silly and the colours would be too muddy and clash against Annabelle.

We opted to go for a more sleek and cone like body shape. Still keeping Lila short and chubby, but thinning her out near the rump for a better silhouette. My instructor added a little bandana so she would match with Annabelle's design - making the bandana a cool blue compared to Annabelle's warm red bandana helped with picking a colour palette for Lila in the end.

In the end we wound up with this sweetheart of a puppy. For my first quad design, I'm very proud of myself! I'm super excited to start building Lila's rig and testing her out in some animations before filming!

[httphopewrld]

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

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

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

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

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

  Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

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

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

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And were gazing at it for too long.

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

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

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

You two erupted in laughter.

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

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

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

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

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

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

You watched his unsure expression.

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

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

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

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

“Hoseok—”

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

You debated his offer.

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

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

You hummed, understanding his instructions.  

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

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

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

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

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

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

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

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

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

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

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

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

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

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

“True,” you admitted.

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

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

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

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

To be honest, you were craving it again.

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

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

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

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

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

“Aggressively.”

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

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

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

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

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

I know that look.

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

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

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

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

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

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

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

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

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

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

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

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

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

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

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

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

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

“Fuck, I’m close—”

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

“Hoseok—”

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

God, I love his dirty talk.

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

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

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Those should fit you, right?”

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

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

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

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

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

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

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

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

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

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

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

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

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

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

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

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

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

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

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

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

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

“Oh,” you moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The closet in my room.”

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

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

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

“You don’t have to—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” He smiled.

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

He caught them, “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

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

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

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

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

People shared chuckles at your joke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your team shared cheers.

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

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

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

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

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

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

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

Your team started packing up.

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

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

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

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

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

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

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

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

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

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

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

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

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

Am I crazy?

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

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

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

.

.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

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

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

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.  

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

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

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

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

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

“Yes,” you replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

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

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

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

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

“Did you enjoy his company?”

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

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

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because of Hoseok?”

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

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

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

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

“But we’re different.” You argued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

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

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

.

.

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

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

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

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

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

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

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

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

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

Your phone buzzed again.

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

You were puzzled.

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

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

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

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

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

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

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

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

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

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

You stared at his words.

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

Your cheeks flushed.

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

You panicked.

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

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

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

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

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

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

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

He nodded.

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

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

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

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

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

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

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

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

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

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.  

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

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

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

“I-I’m getting close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M-me too,” he stammered.

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

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

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

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

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

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

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

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what would you do in this situation?

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

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

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

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

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

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

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow,” Allie awed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sewed in silence for a bit.

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

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

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

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

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

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

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

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

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

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

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

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

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hummed, understanding.

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

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

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

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They all shook their heads.

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

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

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

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

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You both laughed.

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

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

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

You could hear his hesitation.

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

“We don’t have to,” you said.

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

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

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

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

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

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

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

“How was your day?” You asked.

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

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

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

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

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

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

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

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

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

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

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

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You burst into laughter.

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

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

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

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

“Sorry,” you whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it did make you feel special.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You both laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

Your phone buzzed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, “Yup.”

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

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

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

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

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

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

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

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

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

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

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

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

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

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

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

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

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything was ready.

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

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

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

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

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

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

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

“Same here,” you chuckled.

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

Applause.

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

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

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

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

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

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

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

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

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

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you!” You replied.

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

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

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

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

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

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

“No, no. God no,” you said.

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

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

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

You hung up.

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

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

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

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

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

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok nodded.

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

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

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

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

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

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

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

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

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

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

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

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

.

.

1 year later.

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

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #416

“don’t pray for me when you’re the one to blame  /  don’t think of me when you go up in flames”

Does your town/area have a farmer’s market? Do you ever buy your vegetables there rather than grocery store? Not close enough for us to actually go there for groceries, no. If you had a significant other and somehow got a chance to kiss your celebrity crush, would you still go for it? Well no, given Mark's been in a serious relationship for like six years, and I'd feel disloyal to my partner. I can just dream about it, ha ha. Do you tend to be attracted to people that are more similar to you in interests and mannerisms or do you tend to be attracted to someone opposite/complementing to you? I tend to be drawn to people I'm more similar to. What is a talent that a lot of other people desire or value but you really don’t care to have (e.g., singing, etc.)? *shrug* If someone asks you to hang out, but for some reason you’re just feeling lazy/don’t want to go anywhere, do you ignore them, make up an excuse, or just tell them the honest truth? Tbh, odds are I'm making up an excuse. Would you like to meet an alien? That would depend on its motives. It might have wisdom to share, or it may be nefarious, in which case I don't wanna meet it obviously. If so, would you trust them enough to go back with them to their planet? That's a no no matter how it acts. Trust issues, my friend. And that's with humans. What do you think is at the end of space. It's kinda science that space is infinite... Do you like D&D or Magic: The Gathering the most? I've never played D&D because I know I would be way, way too awkward to actually do it. M:TG is fun, though. What is your favorite Disney movie? TLKKKKK. What’s your favorite book series? Wings of Fire tops the list right now, but Warriors will always have a very special place in my heart. What’s something you wish they’d build in your neighborhood? Idk. Do you usually keep ponytail holders around your wrist? No. I don't even wear my hair in a ponytail because it's too short. Sunny D or orange juice? Orange juice. I have to be in a very specific mood for Sunny D. Can you snap out of a bad mood fast? Nooooo, unless something drastically good happens. How can a person tell if you’re mad or annoyed? My face will probably give it away, mixed with me being short and snippy or more awkward than normal because I'm trying to not be a bother. What’s something you enjoy that’s outside your age level? Certain TV shows. When your friends come and hang out at your house, what do you get up to? The only friend I have that I hang out with once in a blue moon is Girt, and we'd usually play board games or watch TV. Do you think it’s ignorant for people to have unprotected sex when they’re not ready for a child? Yes. Like yes, I'm pro-choice so won't look down on someone getting an abortion, but I still think you should be willing to act to prevent things from getting to that point where that procedure is chosen. For it or against it, abortion is a serious decision and should be treated as such. What were your favourite things to do as a child? My favorite thing had to be video games, specifically Spyro, and I also adored Webkinz and Neopets on the computer. I also loved playing make-believe with my toys like every other kid. I loved watching Dad play video games, too. I've also been a drawing fiend since I was very little. If you were shopping with your best friend, and they picked an outfit that was completely unflattering, would you tell them? I honestly don't know if I would. Her being comfortable and happy in it is what matters, anyway. Do you prefer using air-con or having the windows down when you’re driving on a hot day? Team A/C for sure. I hate the feeling of wind just slapping the hell outta your face and making a nest out of your hair. Can you ever manage to finish three courses when you go out to eat at restaurants? No. What would you say your favourite farm animal is? Pigs! They are so incredibly misunderstood. They're very intelligent, CLEAN (I know, can you believe it?), silly, and happy animals that I just adore. Is your ex currently in a relationship and if yes, how do you feel about that? Idk if "the" ex is with anyone, and it's for the better I don't, probably. Which one of your friends should be a stand-up comedian? Girt. Is your mom a better driver or your dad? Oh yeah. Dad tailgates like a motherfucker. What's your least favorite genre of music? Either rap or country, idk. Do you like poems? I do. Do you enjoy drawing? I have a love-hate relationship with it. I LOVE when something comes out the way I wanted it to, but if it doesn't, I feel very disappointed in myself and bash it into my head that I could do better. Do you even have any drawing talent? So I'm told. Have you ever seen The Sound of Music? Yes, in elementary school's music class. Ever seen Beetlejuice? If so, did you enjoy it? Oh yes, that was one of Jason's favorites. I liked it. How do you deal with oppressive heat? Complain, sweat my ass off, do anything I can to cool off that doesn't involve taking clothes off. What’s one thing that people definitely CAN’T count on you for? To remember pretty much anything whatsoever. What about something they definitely can count on you for? An ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. How do you feel about your handwriting? I like it. Is there a store that bothers you immensely for some reason (people who shop there irritate you or the employees who work there are rude, etc.)? Uhhhh I don't think so. What’s something you complain about frequently? If I'm hot, or my legs hurting. If you’re home alone and someone knocks on the door, what do you do? Ignore it. I'm not answering. What’s one book that you have read that will stick with you forever? Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. It's an anti-war pacifism novel, which is something I'm very much passionate about. Would you ever get one of those old school “mom” tattoos with the heart? No. I know with certainty I want a tribute to my mom when she passes, but definitely not that design. Are you a Giants fan? I don't care for sports, but the NYG always make me think of Jason's dad, who is like, obsessed with them. So I guess I feel a bit of warmness towards them just for memory's sake. Last time you went pumpkin picking? Never. Do you prefer eating corn straight off the cob or corn already taken off the cob? I think corn on the cob tastes better with all the butter and spices you can put on it, but I do enjoy off the cob too because it's just so much cleaner. Would you want your family to go on Wife Swap? Well, I live with my mom and she's divorced, so... I don't have to worry about this. How old is your current e-mail address? God, I've had it since I was a kid. Last time you conversed with someone in a language other than English? Not since taking a test for German in high school. Last video you favorited on YouTube? Oh my god, it was this video from my favorite reptile channel (Snake Discovery) of them taking their pet tegu to the park. She clearly had SO much fun. Now mind you I very rarely favorite things, so yeah, I adored the video. Do you like chocolate with coconut filling? Noooo, I'm not a coconut fan at all. What was the first thing you ate today? Mom made bacon, yuuuuum. Do you know how to play Mahjong? No. Mom loves it, though. Do you have any skirts longer than knee-length? I don't own any skirts. What’s the farthest you’ve gone with someone you weren’t dating? Just flirting. Ever had a promise ring? No. What about one of those “I’ll wait until marriage” rings (I think they’re called purity rings or something)? They're called abstinence rings, and yes, in HS. Funny how looking back I was definitely breaking that vow while I wore it lmao. What is the shortest time you’ve heard of people being together before getting married? My late grandma and her second husband got married SO fast. Like they were together for probably a couple months (maybe less?), then boom, the news came that they were engaged. Are any of your friends currently pregnant? Facebook friends, yes, which are mostly composed of old friends and acquaintances from school. One poor girl very recently got into a bad wreck, but thank goodness she and her unborn daughter are okay. Have you ever played golf? I loved playing putt-putt when I was younger, and then Jason and I once had a mini-golf date. It was really cute. When was the last time you waxed anything on your body, if ever? It's been some years since I used to wax my eyebrows. Have you ever been in a car accident? Yes. A minor one, but still. Can you honestly say you love the last person you kissed? Yep. Are you smiling in your Facebook profile picture? Yeah. Would you ever go on Fear Factor? Noooo. I would NEVER get past day #2 where they tend to do the disgusting shit, and I'm way too out of shape to do the wild stuff they do. What colour was the last mask you wore? Blue. Can any of your friends sing well? Which one has the nicest singing voice? Oh yes, Sara has an absolutely beautiful voice. When was the last time you had a nightmare? I had two last night, actually. I have this habit of taking my APAP mask off in the middle of the night because it's a nuisance, and I never remember doing so. When I do that, I'm much more prone to have nightmares because the mask helps my sleep apnea, which causes my nightmares/terrors. Where do you see yourself in ten years? I do NOT want to imagine this. It's either going to be beautiful or a fucking catastrophe, of that I'm sure. Does your family have traditions? Just pretty ordinary holiday ones. Have you ever met anyone half-way famous? Tez is famous, as far as I'm concerned. :') I also have some musician friends trying to make it, but idk how far they've actually gotten in the industry. Is there a celebrity that you are related to? No, just ancestors. Would you call your last relationship a mistake? Definitely not. Would you ever take up a job in photography? Ugh... that's the fucking dream. But I'm massively losing hope. Do you throw out your assignments once you’ve gotten them back? When I was in school, it depended on whether it would serve as good study material or not. Who was the last person you messaged on Facebook? My old friend Jenna messaged me a few days back just to say she was thinking about me and wished me well, which I really appreciated. Of course I messaged her back wishing her the same and all. Have you ever developed a crush on someone the first day you met them? Don't believe so, no. Do you have any friends who never shut up about their boyfriend/girlfriend? Well, I used to. She vanished. Have you ever showered with a member of the opposite sex? No. Don't want to. I want to be alone when I shower.

[chrismalcolmhnd2c]

Geometry Club

©Dave Mullan

©Adrian flickr

“Embrace nature’s brutal perfection”  Boyd Rice

Research the Narrative

The research required for this brief is simply to gather inspirational images from other practitioners. Add this to your blog/workbook with clear information as to where the images were sourced and who the copyright belongs to.

Tell the Story

Shape and form in environmental photography underpins the overall aesthetic, considering the underlaying composition of an image allows the photographer to explore the subject in new and exciting ways and help you see the photograph as a unique representation of the subject you choose.

Simple geometry can be found everywhere, the shapes formed by the play of light, structures intertwining, objects passing each other… training your eye to look out for strong shape to compose your subject is an important part of constructing strong, bold photographs. Waiting for the correct moment to press the shutter release is a skill in finding the right moment.

Look around your environment to find strong geometric images. Shoot 100 photographs with the main focus being on strong geometric shape, within an outdoor environment.  

Edit and refine: Complete worksheet

Make a contact sheet of the best images.

Study and ‘mark-up’ the contact sheet, making aesthetic decisions on your final selection.

Optimise your best TEN images Describe your decision-making process.

Submit: Series of TEN images on ONE A3 canvas 300ppi. Upload to my city.

Geometry Club Research

What Makes a Great Fine Art Architectural Photograph?

JUNE 22, 2018 · SHARON TENENBAUM

Every person you ask might have a different answer to the question, what makes a great fine art architectural photograph? However, in my experience, there are a few key factors that are necessary for transforming a good image into a great one.

Great architectural images often follow these 3 features:

·       Composition. In architectural photography, you need to use the language of geometric lines and shapes. These elements must create a harmonious balance within your frame. Without this component, not much can be done to salvage an image.

·       Simplicity. Once the shot is made, ask yourself: “What elements in the image are not adding to the story?” In other words, try to simplify your scene by eliminating unnecessary details.

·       Post-processing. Once the two factors above are covered, the work on post-processing begins. If you are familiar with my work, you might be aware that I’m a strong advocate of ‘creating’ an image and not ‘capturing’ one. This means accentuating and exaggerating the compositional elements mentioned above, and creating depth, volume, and balance through selective lighting.

Image 1 – BEFORE: cluttered, unprocessed and without a person in the frame. Even though the compositional foundation is present, there is still much work to be done on decluttering and gradient lighting.

Image 2 – AFTER: ‘cleaning’ the image of unnecessary details and implementing gradient lighting.

Until recently, this is where my creative process stopped. I don’t want to elaborate too much on the features listed above; instead, I want to talk about an element in architectural photography which I’ve only lately begun exploring.

Creative Shift

As architectural fine art photography is my passion, it’s been the subject of my images for over a decade now. My path of creating this body of work was a path of self-discovery. Even though some of my earlier architectural images are stellar and I would not have done anything different with them today, in my newer work, I am embarking on a creative shift. This shift is taking my architectural images in a different direction, so now, they are not just about celebrating form, but also about human interaction with the architectural environment.

Architectural structures, by their nature, are designed to serve a purpose for people. By eliminating people out of the composition, the photographer is celebrating the art of geometry and engineering above anything else. As magnificent as the design might be, by including a human element in the composition, the image takes on a new (and different) life form. The benefits are three-fold:

First, it adds a sense of life and warmth to an otherwise cool scene. An architectural image is naturally cold, comprised of concrete, steel and/or wood. By including even a single person in the image, we are warming up the scene and crossing the boundaries from the inanimate to the animate.

Second, it gives a structure a sense of scale and comes closer to the architect’s original intent in design, which is serving people for a specific purpose. For instance, Middle Age Gothic churches were designed to dwarf the scale of a human in comparison to the House of God they were entering. A church was designed to be of an enormous scale to give the parishioners an ‘otherworldly’ experience. If you walked into a Middle Age church and did not get that feeling, then the architect did not do his job right. This was done with the intention of making one feel small in the presence of the Almighty God. Likewise, an image of a church that depicts the sense of scale by including a human reference would convey that concept whereas the image without one would not.

Lastly, by adding a single person, we are giving the viewer’s eye a resting point. The psychological reason for this I can’t say, but it’s a fact. We tend to first spot the person in the image and use the rest as a background. That makes the image more intriguing on a few levels. First, as the photographer/artist, you now have the power to direct the attention of your viewers. You are saying to them: “Start here.” Second, it helps to simplify a scene that otherwise can be too busy with lines and shapes (as in the image below). Third, and maybe most important, it adds asymmetry or shifts the ‘center of gravity’ of an image to create a more intriguing composition.

Looking at the image below, we can see all the points I stated above exemplified, as the image without the cyclist is lacking warmth, a sense of scale and a resting point.

Image 1: With Cyclist

Image 2: Without Cyclist

Sharon Tenenbaum teaches Fine Art Architectural Photography Workshops around the world. To learn more about Sharon’s work and details about her upcoming workshops, please visit: SharonTenenbaum.com

Source: https://www.thephotoargus.com/what-makes-a-great-fine-art-architectural-photograph/

Matthias Heiderich

A self-taught photographer, Matthias Heiderich (b. 1982) explores urban environments, finding surprising angles and colours within cityscapes. His shots are framed in a distinct way, focusing on corners, sides and small sections of buildings. Consequently, he does not just record what he sees; rather he transforms the ordinary into dream-like spaces that suggest a futuristic universe. The minimalist images bring attention to symmetry, lines and patterns prevalent in the urban landscape. Primarily working in the realm of fine art, his pieces have also appeared in architecture and travel publications, such as Wallpaper* and Cereal. Since 2011, Heiderich’s images have been exhibited at galleries in Berlin, Barcelona, San Francisco, St Petersburg and Zürich. In 2014 Spektrum Berlin was published with the Parisian publisher Editions Intervalles. The images selected are an overview, illustrating how exploring lines, structures and space rejects the banality of city scenes, reforming them into an awe-inspiring collage of geometric shapes. www.matthias-heiderich.de.

Source: https://aestheticamagazine.com/geometric-architecture/

Architecture photography corner – in pictures

In 2014, Sheffield-based photographer and graphic designer Dave Mullen Jr started Geometry Club, a collaborative Instagram project in which people submit images of buildings forming carefully composed triangle shapes. Mullen is now creating an app to simplify the meticulous formatting process, and says the project is “a test of building an audience based on curating the same thing”. The account has attracted more than 25,000 followers and welcomes contributions by professional and amateur photographers. “I quite like the fact that sometimes you look at the photos and it’s not obvious that it’s architecture straight away,” says Mullen.

Photograph by @grg_mlll (US).

Photograph by @ferrypasschier (Netherlands).

Photograph by @mismaria (England).

Photograph by @davemullenjnr (England).

Photograph by @jagamac266 (Singapore).

Photograph by @marcclish (Scotland).

Source: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/gallery/2017/jan/28/architecture-photography-corner-in-pictures

7 Tips to Spice up Your Photography Using Geometry

MARCO DE GROOT

October 9, 2017

Finding yourself in a photographic rut? Add value to your images by keeping these geometric principles in mind.

SYMMETRY

Symmetry lies at the heart of the laws of nature. It’s calming and pleasant to the eye when an image features a symmetrical composition. But a photo doesn’t necessarily need to be split directly down the middle to successfully incorporate symmetry. When an image feels balanced, you can achieve the same (and sometimes more interesting) result.

Look around on your next trip; you can find symmetry everywhere.

SHAPES

Using shapes is another way to creatively frame the subjects in your photos.

Squares and rectangles suggest conformity and order. Keep an eye out for these shapes and use them to enhance that feeling.

On the other hand, the circle represents unity, completion, and perfection. When used in an image, circular shapes can help draw the eye inward and keep the viewer’s attention on the subject.

Finally, triangles are a good way to focus attention toward a certain point. And, depending on the way a triangle is angled, it can evoke a calm or energetic feeling for the viewer.

CONVERGING LINES

Converging lines can be used to add depth and guide the viewer’s attention in a specific direction. These lines don’t need to be physical, per se, but can be created using a pattern that directs the gaze forward.

PARALLEL LINES

The use of parallel lines evokes order and rhythm in photography. Parallel vertical lines give the illusion of growth, while horizontal lines give the impression of calmness or tranquility.

INTERSECTING LINES

Diagonal or angled leading lines can make an image seem more dynamic. By highlighting these lines, photos become more active. Depending on your angle, intersecting leading lines can also help connect more than one subject or add depth to a photo.

PATTERNS

Patterns are a useful tool for both framing and composition in photography. When a frame is filled with shapes it can add to a photo’s drama or, when aligned, its order.

You can find patterns in window arrangements in buildings, shapes of tiles, pebbles on a beach, bricks on a wall etc.. When you know what to look for, you can find them all around you.

PERSPECTIVE

Sometimes, even a perfectly-composed shot can end up looking a bit boring. If that’s the case, try changing the perspective by flipping or rotating the image to find the view that makes it most intriguing.

Source: https://passionpassport.com/spice-up-your-photography-with-geometry/

Shoot 1 Contact Sheets

Contact sheets marked up with images chosen for optimisation 

I feel the above selected images could work well when optimised as they contain strong and repeating geometric patterns. The images are high contrast and colourful, while the ones chosen from the contact sheet below contain intricate patterns in the shadows created by the strong sunlight.

Most successful optimised images from shoot

Marked up contact sheet from 2nd shoot

Most successful optimised images from shoot

[upstartpoodle]

Month of AUs Day 4 - Alien

So welcome to Day 4 (sort of) of the Month of AUs! This one’s a bit longer compared to the last one so I’m putting it under the cut.

*****

“Oh my God, what has my life become?,” Elizabeth Chynoweth, regular joe with a regular job who had managed to find herself stuck in a very irregular situation, muttered to herself as she stood at the kitchen sink, filling up the kettle with enough water for two. “This is mad. Bonkers. Insane. How on earth have I come to this?”

Of course, there was no real point in asking that question, for Elizabeth knew exactly how she had reached this--quite frankly--bizarre point in her life. It had all started when she was driving home along the creek, ready to spend a nice, relaxing evening indoors with a bottle of wine and a good book after a relatively normal, boring day at work. That was when the shooting star had fallen, so very close, almost sending her skidding off the road; when she had dared to step outside the confines of her car and clamber down into the crater to investigate. That was when she had seen it--not a shooting star but the broken and twisted remains of what must have once been a sleek black space-pod, with thick dark smoke billowing out of it, and the strange figure that had hauled himself out of the wreckage, bleeding dark blue, turning to her with luminous eyes as wide and as afraid as her own before he keeled over in a dead faint. And that was when she had realised that she couldn’t simply leave this injured man--injured alien, alien--out there alone and without aid. So it was then that she had called in a favour from a friend of hers, and before she knew it, she had been helping a surprisingly calm Dr Dwight Enys (really, he had made an impressive job of only mildly freaking out considering what she had been asking him to do) patch up an honest to God extraterrestrial in her front room.

“I’ve done all that I can for him, I think,” he had said, running a hand, stained with blue blood, through his auburn hair. “I don’t know how severe these injuries are for one of his...s-species,” he stumbled over word, the look on his face as baffled and as disbelieving of what he was seeing as Elizabeth was herself, “or how fast he’ll heal. Or even how he’d react to painkillers. I really have nothing to base this on at all. He may look...well...a little human, but he’s not-- I mean, blue blood. We can hardly take him to a hospital.”

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, staring down at the unconscious figure, laid out upon her sofa. He did look somewhat human--two arms, two legs, blond hair that was drying in soft curls now that they had managed to wash out the blood that had been sticking to it. Despite his humanoid shape, however, he had a number of features that were distinctly inhuman. It could be seen in his too white skin that didn’t quite match that of any human she had ever come across, in the slightly strange slant of his facial features, the pointed tips of his ears, the unnatural glow of his bright blue eyes that she had glimpsed for just a short moment at the crash site. Other than the colour of his blood, though, the most obvious indicator of his alienness were the peculiar markings he sported, like the pattern on a circuit board, which glowed the exact same colour as his irises. They covered the whole of the left side of his body, she had seen when they had had to cut away his ruined clothes--heavy, expensive robes adorned with elegant embroidery, now burnt and tattered and bloodied in a pile on the floor next to her feet--to gain access to his injuries, right from his ankle to his temple. Dwight had been quite fascinated by them, muttering under his breath about bioluminescence and other terms she couldn’t quite catch, but his patient’s condition had prevented him from dwelling on them. They were mostly covered now that they had put him in a pair of Francis’ pyjamas and an old dressing gown that he had left behind when he moved out, and a thick blanket to keep him warm and comfortable, but some were still visible along the left side of his neck and face, and on the back of his left hand where it rested, limp, across his stomach. By all rights, she thought, the mundane clothes should have made him look more ordinary, but if anything, he looked even more out of place now than he did before.

“You know, you’re going to have to keep him hidden, right?,” Dwight pressed when she made no reply. “There’s bound to be people out there who’d have bad intentions towards him if they find out about him. That could put a target on both your backs. And on mine.”

“I know” Elizabeth said. But even as she said it she could barely believe it, barely believe this was real and happening and that that was a real possibility--

“Do you?,” Dwight interrupted her downward spiral into complete and utter panic as he turned to face her, the expression on his kindly face very serious. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into? What we’re getting into?”

Elizabeth couldn’t quite contain a choked laugh that sounded more like a whimper.

“No, not at all.”

“Who would, I suppose?,” admitted Dwight with a sigh. “But it’s too late to turn back now.”

And that, she reflected, was how she had ended up with an alien man, bandaged and wrapped in her ex-boyfriend’s dressing gown, curled up on her sofa in the adjourning room, watching a repeat of one of David Attenborough’s documentaries with an intense fascination which she knew couldn’t have translated entirely into understanding, given that his command of the English language currently consisted of a small list of words that he had picked up over the past few days, and of her name. She had managed to teach it to him a little while after he first woke up, in an attempt which her brain kept comparing, much to her chagrin, to that one scene from Tarzan. Unfortunately, his attempts to teach her his had been less successful, as his name consisted of a long string of sounds which he had rattled off with ease, but which she suspected human vocal chords had not exactly been designed to replicate.

Honestly, the whole thing’s mad, she observed to herself once again as she put the kettle to boil. Completely and utterly mad. But it’s just like Dwight said--there’s no going back now. I decided to help him that day and that’s what I’ll do, even if it is just giving him somewhere to stay whilst he heals up. With that in mind, she reached out, grabbed the box of teabags from its place on the counter, and headed out into the living room, where her peculiar guest lay, completely engrossed in the sight of a thorny devil searching for water on the TV, a small frown upon his face as he followed the movements on the screen with his gaze.

“George.” She called him by the name she had taken to using for him--it was about as close as she could get to the first syllable of his ridiculously long name (the others, sadly, still completely eluded her). He glanced up at her, tilting his head to one side in a manner reminiscent of a quizzical owl, in a way that told her that though he understood that she was referring to him, he thought her very odd for not simply calling him by his proper name. “Would you like some tea?”

She held up a teabag from the box to illustrate her point--though he may not understand all he words, she knew that would convey to him the general meaning of wat she was asking him. He perked up immediately upon seeing the box. Though he had been deeply suspicious of it at first, he had quickly developed a liking for the drink.

“Please.” This was one of the few English--or indeed Earth--words that he knew. Elizabeth smiled at him before heading back into the kitchen, box in hand. Well, she thought wryly, if she were going to end up harbouring an alien in her home, at least she had had the good sense to choose a polite one.

A few minutes later, she returned to the living room with two steaming mugs of tea in each hand, receiving a quiet “thank you” from her guest as she placed one on the table beside him to cool down. Then, carefully, so as not to jostle him, she sat down on the edge of the sofa and, taking a small sip of her own tea, reached for her tablet, opening up the news.

“What the--?,” Elizabeth stared openly at the headline which greeted her-- “EXPERTS DENOUNCE LEAKED IMAGE OF POSSIBLE STARSHIP WRECKAGE AS HOAX.” Beside it was a faint, fuzzy picture of something huge and bulky, it’s outline too precise and straight to be an asteroid, with the exception of the numerous places where the...whatever it was...appeared to have sustained significant damage, specks of what looked like shrapnel floating around the periphery of the image, as if they had been blasted off the main structure by some massive explosion. She stared at it, clicking on the article and skimming through it’s contents at lightning speed. “‘Experts have spoken out over claims that the viral photo of what appears to be the remains of a starship proves the existence of life on other planets... The photo first emerged...Tuesday...on the Twitter account of... Claims of a NASA source...unsubstantiated and unlikely...’ Oh my God, what--?”

“El-iza-beth.”

That immediately caught her attention, drawing her away from the article and back towards her alien guest. He always said her name in that way--enunciating every syllable, so careful to get it right that it made her ashamed that she had not yet managed to afford him the same courtesy--but there was something very serious, agitated in his tone that made her sit up and take notice, suddenly uneasy. He was staring at the picture of the wreckage with an even greater intensity than he had afforded to David Attenborough, his tea quite forgotten. Then, he raised his good hand--the left one, with the markings; the other was still bound up in a sling, not yet healed from his crash--and pointed towards the image.

“Mine” he said.

“Yours?,” she asked. “This...this is your ship?”

“Yes. My...ship.” He tested the foreign word on his tongue, frowning at the awkwardness of it. 

His markings pulsed brighter and, all of a sudden, an image flickered to life between them. It didn’t startle Elizabeth as much as one might have expected--she had seen him do it several times already. The first time had been when she was trying to explain where in the universe they were with the aid of some diagrams from an encyclopaedia, only to leap back in shock when an intricate, three-dimensional picture of the solar system appeared in front of her (after the surprise had worn off, she had become sidetracked teaching him the names of the planets, with varying success). On a couple of other occasions, she had seen him summon up a screen which she had just about been able to gather was some kind of extraterrestrial equivalent of a Skype call. He was clearly out of range here, however, and, unable to connect for what she remembered as being the third time, he had let out a string of sharp, frustrated, impatient words in his own tongue, the bite of which somehow suggested to her that he was a man accustomed to being in control, and most likely (she recalled the fancy clothes he had worn when she first found him) one who was used to giving out orders and having them followed. He seemed to be drawing these...holograms, for want of a better word, from some kind of database, but she couldn’t see any object on him that he was using to do so. Indeed, the only connection between himself and the images, as far as she could tell, was his markings, which glowed bright whenever they appeared. It made Elizabeth wonder if they were not a result of biology, like Dwight had initially presumed, but of technology--an implant or something similar that allowed him to access and project the pictures --but how it worked, she hadn’t the faintest idea.

The image before her now was unmistakably of a starship--or at least the blueprint of one. Despite the haziness of the picture accompanying the news article, she recognised the outline of it. The only difference was that this one was whole, undamaged. Swallowing, she stared back down at the image on her tablet, vicious holes blasted in its hull, ripped savagely apart.

“Oh God, what happened to it?,” she gasped. “What happened to you?”

He made a frustrated noise at that, the image flickering away into nothingness as abruptly as it had appeared. She knew why--he hadn’t the words to answer her, to express to her how he had come to be here in a way which she could understand. And would he even want to talk about it if he had?, she wondered. She was still almost a complete stranger to him, after all, even if she had helped him. And so is he to you, she reminded herself, swallowing convulsively.

“Where are you from?,” she asked instead. It was a question she had asked before, when he first woke up, but he hadn’t understood enough to answer then. Now, however, with the image of that wrecked ship--his ship--staring her in the face, she burnt to know more than ever. “I am from Earth, here,” she added, placing a hand on her chest, as he regarded her quizzically, not sure if he understood. “Where are you...?”

She trailed off as understanding flitted across his features, and an image suddenly appeared between them once more. It was the picture of the solar system. There were little rows of figures next to the planets now, she noticed, that had not been there before. Letters. Names. They were the planet’s names, she realised, the ones that she had taught him, recorded in his own alphabet beside each one.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the third planet away from the sun. “This...Earth.”

“Yes, but--”

She wasn’t sure what exactly he was trying to communicate to her, but she cut herself off as the image changed. It wasn’t the solar system anymore, but galaxies. A great, whirling, swirling myriad of galaxies, a map of the stars.

“You...Earth...are here,” he continued, pointing to a galaxy which she supposed must be the Milky Way on the far edges of the map. “I...,” he turned towards a much larger galaxy near the top of the image, “here.”

“I--” Elizabeth stared at the two galaxies--at the distance between them--with wide eyes. “But I-- Oh God, that’s so far! It’s so far!”

And it was. It was the kind of distance that, even with her inexpert eye, she knew that human technology would not have the slightest hope of traversing within a lifetime. Once again, she was struck by just how foreign and alien and-and downright impossible her unexpected houseguest was, but far more than that, she couldn't help but wonder over what hope he had of finding away to return there, to that far away galaxy. Would he ever be able to get back, without his ship, or a way to communicate with his people, whoever they were? She would be of no use to him in that regard after all--not with her boring office job and her relevant qualifications being a grand total of a GCSE in Physics, the content of which she had promptly forgotten the moment she stepped out of the final exam.

He must have seen something of her thoughts in his face, as, with an unhappy downturn of his lips, the image flickered and changed, no longer showing that map of galaxies, but an unfamiliar sun, orbited by unfamiliar planets. Slowly, he pointed towards the fourth planet from its star, large and surrounded by several moons.

“Home,” he said; the light from the projection reflected in his glowing eyes, sad, resigned. “My home.”

Elizabeth stared at the little planet circling about its sun, not quite able to face the look in his eyes, too raw and painful. It hovered there for a few seconds, before it, too, vanished, like the picture of the ship before it, and he turned away so that all she could see was the outline of his patrician profile, markings dulled to their usual faint glow. His eyes were fixed on the carpet, jaw clenched tight, as if to do otherwise would be to let loose a torrent of emotion he was not yet ready to share with a stranger. Elizabeth let out a quiet breath. What must it be like for him, she wondered, to be stranded on a strange planet amongst strange people, with only documentaries in a language he could barely speak and the realisation that he had no way home to occupy him? Lonely, she thought it must be. Terribly lonely, and frightening, for all that he tried to hide it.

“Hey,” she said, reaching out carefully to take his uninjured hand in both of her own. He started at the unexpected touch, turning back to her with wide eyes, but he didn’t pull away from her. “Ssh, it’s alright. I know you must miss your home, but you can stay here as long as you need. You’re not alone--I’m here to help you, I promise.”

He tilted his head to the side at her words, frowning, and she realised with a sigh of frustration that he probably understood barely any of what she had just said. She was just about to try and rephrase it in a way that he could gauge the meaning of, however, when he spoke up, quiet and uncertain.

“Stay...here? With you?” Though his tone was guarded, and he was still tense beneath her hands, there was a look of hope in his eyes that was too real, too genuine to be hidden behind his caution. Elizabeth smiled at him encouragingly.

“Yes, with me, for as long as you need,” she said. “And I promise you, everything will be alright. I’ll make sure of it.”

[strandedhaze]

ONE : MEET NAOMI

FULL NAME: naomi june cheng-bradshaw. PREFERRED NAME: naomi. NICKNAME(S): most people call her nomi, noms, nao, nai and similar variations, elijah calls her nana. DATE OF BIRTH: may 3rd, 1994. GENDER: cis female. PREFERRED PRONOUNS: she/her/hers. ORIENTATION: heterosexual. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single in main verse. RELIGION: she’s not a particularly religious person. OCCUPATION: press manager for honda racing corporation. CURRENT RESIDENCE: madrid, spain ; she owns a house in the prestigious la finca neighbourhood.

TWO : NAOMI’S BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: marina bay, singapore. NATIONALITY: singaporean. LINGUISTICS: english is her native language but, asides from it, she speaks spanish, portuguese, italian, french, mandarin chinese and japanese. in some languages, she’s more proficient than others. for instance, she speaks spanish just as well as she speaks english. her spoken japanese is nearly flawless and though she can read and comprehend the language, she can’t write. she’s still getting around to dive deeper into mandarin chinese.  EDUCATION: she attended the massachusetts institute of technology - also known as MIT - and she has a double degree in business analytics and management. CRIMINAL RECORD: clean. BIRTH ORDER: first. FATHER: charles bradshaw was born on february 23rd, 1971 in windsor, england. he is an investment banker who resides in between hong kong and dubai.   MOTHER: sonoya cheng was born on july 5th, 1971 in sentosa island, singapore. she is a real estate tycoon who resides in between toronto, abu dhabi and singapore.  SISTER(S): none. BROTHER(S): edward cheng-bradshaw was born on january 15th, 1997 in marina bay, singapore. he is a software developer manager and resides in san francisco, california. OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: constance mizuno, sister-in-law. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: naomi is single. CHILDREN: none so far. FRIENDS: to be done. EXES: andrea pagani, marco ricci and aleix martin. PETS: none so far.

THREE : GET UP CLOSE & PERSONAL

HEIGHT: 5′7″ ( 174 cm ). WEIGHT: her weight oscillates between 127 lbs ( 57.6 kg ) and 134 lbs ( 61 kg ). BODY TYPE AND BUILD: she is naturally slim - courtesy of genetics and her fast metabolism - but, despite that fact, she still has a willowy frame. by no means, does she have a hourglass shape with a big bust, tiny waist and thick thighs but with a good, healthy diet and a workout plan ( that she, often, forgets to follow ) consisting of some weight training and fun classes, naomi has still managed to achieve a shape she’s comfortable with. she has particularly long legs and, thanks to all the hot yoga and pilates classes, she holds a rather toned overall body. EYE COLOR: brown. EYESIGHT: she has perfect eyesight though when the work load increases, you’ll find her reaching for her glasses in order to give her eyes a break. she also wears blue light blocking glasses whenever she’s working on a computer. HAIR COLOR: dark brown. HAIR STYLE: her hair is, has always been - and will always be, according to her - long, hitting the middle of her back, at worst, when she goes for a trim to keep its healthy condition and it has a natural wavy texture which naomi has learned to love. styling wise, it rarely gets too eventful... during the season, she’ll throw it on a ponytail or a bun for the race weekends and allow it to dry into its natural texture on the remaining work days. if she’s attending an event of sorts or going out to celebrate, she’ll straighten it or go for a nice blowout. DOMINANT HAND: right. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: her lips or, possibly, their plumpness, her legs that often seem endless, her tan complexion and how it makes her dark eyes and hair standout, and for the rare occasions when it makes an appearance, her smile. SCARS AND MARKS: nothing outstanding - she has your average scars and marks here and there. TATTOOS: she has a lotus mandala on the inside of her right wrist, a symbol of enlightenment for her, as well as a way to symbolize all the growth she achieved throughout her life.  PIERCINGS: regular lobes. VOICECLAIM: nicole elise. ACCENT AND INTENSITY: having moved out and grown up in london, naomi developed a thick london accent which she never knew how intense it was up until she found herself in massachusetts. the four years spent there, softened the intensity of the british accent and the nearly six years in spain also played a part when washing away what once was a proper londoner accent so, these days, it’s hard to identify what accent she has exactly. it’s more of a mixture than anything specific.  ALLERGIES: cherries and insect stings, particularly bee stings. PHOBIAS AND FEARS: extremely deep waters and though it’s not a phobia, she gets really nervous when she’s driving over bridges. MENTAL ILLNESSES: none so far. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: none so far. SCENT THEY WEAR: it varies depending on a lot of factors, such as season of the year, time of the day, occasion and, above all, her personal mood. during summer, you’ll often catch her wearing soleil blanc by tom ford or replica beach walk by maison margiela, and during summer nights, she'll wear sundaze by byredo. for fancy events, her go-to is bewitching yasmine by penhaligon’s, same way her go-to for nights out with friends is slow dance by byredo. whenever she has an important business meeting, she’ll wear cuir celeste by ex nihilo, simply because in naomi’s opinion, the scent is the definition of boss bitch and throughout race weekends, she’ll go for rose of no man’s land by byredo. le labo’s patchouli 24 and maison margiela’s replica by the fireplace are generally the scents she wears through winter. for date nights where she actually cares to put some effort in and is actually interested in the person, she’ll specifically wear reine de nuit by byredo or santal 33 by le labo. ALCOHOL USE: socially, she does. SMOKING: she doesn’t smoke. OTHER NARCOTICS USE: no. INDULGENT FOOD: she prefers to eat healthy but there’s no denying that every once in a while, she needs to indulge in some soul food.  SPLURGE SPENDING: it happens every now and again, but she’s mostly a responsible buyer. GAMBLING: no. ADDICTIONS AND VICES: none.

FOUR : DIG DEEPER

CAN THEY DRIVE? yes, she can drive. CAN THEY COOK AND BAKE? yes and yes. CAN THEY CHANGE A FLAT TIRE? yes. CAN THEY TIE A TIE? yes. CAN THEY SWIM? yes. CAN THEY RIDE A BICYCLE? yes. CAN THEY JUMP START A CAR? yes. CAN THEY BRAID HAIR? yes. CAN THEY PICK A LOCK? yes. EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED? extroverted. DISORGANIZED OR ORGANIZED? organized, and she hates when things get messy. CLOSE OR OPEN MINDED? open minded. CALM OR ANXIOUS? calm. PATIENT OR IMPATIENT? healthy in-between and always depends on the situation. OUTSPOKEN OR RESERVED? outspoken. LEADER OR FOLLOWER? she's a leader, all through and through. OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? optimistic, mostly. TRADITIONAL OR MODERN? modern. HARD-WORKING OR LAZY? hard-working. CULTURED OR UNCULTURED? cultured. LOYAL OR DISLOYAL? loyal. FAITHFUL OR UNFAITHFUL? faithful. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? honestly, it all depends on the time of the year. HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER? light sleeper. COFFEE OR TEA? tea over coffee, these days. DAY OR NIGHT? night. TAKING BATHS OR SHOWERS? baths. COCA COLA OR PEPSI? none. CATS OR DOGS? both. NETFLIX OR CINEMA? netflix. SHOWS OR MOVIES? both. LAPTOP OR GAMING CONSOLE? laptop. HEALTHY OR JUNK FOOD? healthy. ICE CREAM OR FROZEN YOGURT? ice cream. PIZZA OR HAMBURGER? pizza. LOLLIPOPS OR GUMMY WORMS? gummy worms. BEACH OR POOL? beach. SNOWBALLS FIGHTING OR ICESKATING? iceskating. LITERATURE OR SCIENCE? science. HISTORY OR ART? art. CHOCOLATE BARS OR COTTON CANDY? chocolate bars. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION? playstation. FACE-TO-FACE OR PHONE INTERACTIONS? face-to-face interactions. DRAMA OR SCI-FI? sci-fi. HORROR OR COMEDY? horror.

FIVE : NAOMI’S LIKES & DISLIKES

FAVORITE ACTIVITY: yoga. FAVORITE ANIMAL: giraffe. FAVORITE BOOK: everything i know about love by dolly alderton. FAVORITE QUOTE: ❝ when you’re tired, go slowly. go quietly. go timidly. but do not stop. ❞ — heidi priebe. FAVORITE COLOR(S): it’s a very specific beige/tan colour, a champagne type of shade.  FAVORITE DESIGNER: maison christian dior and acne studios. FAVORITE CUISINE: singaporean cuisine, all through and through. there are little things she’s more passionate about than her national cuisine, she often says no one does food like singapore.  FAVORITE DISH(ES): hainanese chicken rice, laksa, hokkien fried mee and dumplings. FAVORITE DRINK: matcha ginger latte and bubble tea.  FAVORITE FLOWER(S): lotus flower. FAVORITE GEM: diamond. FAVORITE HOLIDAY: new years. FAVORITE MOVIE: currently, it must be parasite by bong joon-ho.  FAVORITE MUSIC GENRE: she doesn’t have a favorite music genre. naomi listens to a little bit of everything because for her, it’s more about the songs and artists than the genre itself. FAVORITE SONG(S): xo by beyoncé. GO TO KARAOKE SONG: kiss it better by rihanna. FAVORITE SCENT(S): the scent of gasoline, melting chocolate and freshly baked goods. FAVORITE TELEVISION SHOW(S): la casa de papel. FAVORITE SPORTS: motogp, formula1 and football. SPORTS TEAM THEY SUPPORT: real madrid. FAVORITE EMOJI: probably the 💅🏽 though it’s not what she uses the most. FAVORITE WEATHER: she likes that type of weather at the end of a summer day, when it’s warm but not too much and you walk around the beach feeling that soft breeze of air hitting you, and the day is settling down and all that remains is a wash of what the weather was throughout the day. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR: summer. FAVORITE PLACE(S): a close tie between her childhood home in marina bay, singapore and her current home in madrid. she loves the memories and how much singapore grounds her, how it freshens up her ties to the culture and reminds her of better days. at the same time, she also loves madrid. the people, the culture and everything in between. both bring her a sense of peace she’s very fond of. SUPERPOWER THEY WISH THEY HAD: teleportation.  VACATION DESTINATION: if she was forced to choose, coppenhagen or amsterdam for a solo, self-reflection trip and anywhere in japan or thailand just to unwind.

[yeoldontknow]

Black Tie (M)

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Summary: When Chanyeol takes you to meet his parents, you think it goes well. It goes well, and then it goes wild. Genre: smut; au Rating: NC-17 Warnings: explicit language; explicit sex; mentions of come play; semi-public sex; dominating language Word Count: 6,048

The restaurant is expensive.

The kind that leaves cream designs in the foam of your dessert coffee, the kind that has tablecloths long enough to tickle your knees, laundering paid for by the excessive tip. Expensive, and not a place you would normally find yourself in with Chanyeol at your side. A place like this, with jazz music and a wine menu, leather bound and three pages deep, is not a place that suits your edges.

You want it to be, you think it looks good on Chanyeol, the elegant candlelight and the black suit giving way to his original colours. He looks regal like this, jawline sharp and pronounced as he keeps his smiles tucked into the corner of his lips. Head cocked to the side, he appraises everything as though he has seen it before, as though he could buy and sell it all, not thinking twice as he brought a man to his knees.

You want it to be, because you think you look good on him. You look good like this, legs lengthened by heels that look like weapons, pointed and slim, and the way your skin seems to glow when surrounded by luxurious, beautiful things. But really, you are awkward in your tight dress, silk and satin never fabrics that sat well against your skin.

Tonight you have pressed yourself into a shape that does not match the way you met Chanyeol, does not match the flannel shirts and combat boots, the band tee shirts and the intense way you fucked fucked gasoline into your bedsheets on your first date. Tonight, you have pressed yourself into the shape of a person that meets mothers, that smiles prettily and crosses their legs as though they know, and care for, etiquette, and as though they know what each spoon is for. Tonight, you have made yourself into someone that matches their lingerie and pretends it’s habitual, someone who doesn’t get wet at the scent of her boyfriend’s cologne - someone who doesn’t like to fuck when surrounded by risk.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you think the night has gone well. You think you smiled at all the right times, said the right things, talked about yourself only when permitted and ate your meal with a dignified sort of silence. Not once did your elbows touch the table, not once did you forget to say thank you. Sometimes, you folded your hands and let them rest primly in your lap. Other times, you touched Chanyeol’s shoulder delicately while you laughed, even though you weren’t terribly amused by the joke. It looked nice, though, you think, had you seen this from someone else’s eyes.

Beside you, he has done the same, though you think he’s revealed himself as a dichotomy. With his tongue behind his teeth, he offers you and his parents his signature expression, the one that charms women, charmed you, into his bed and the one that reminds family members he is golden. Sinful and beautiful - the kind of smile that fits both the Chanyeol that fucks smears from your thighs onto your kitchen counter and the one that stirs coffee without hitting his spoon against the cup.

Had you seen all this from someone else’s eyes, you would think the family, including you, at this table was refined, elegant - at the very least a family who’s command of etiquette is astounding. And, before dessert, you would have believed it too.

Except, Chanyeol’s reassuring hand on your thigh has started to wander, started to fondle the hem of your dress and slowly push it upwards. Against your skin, his fingertips are featherlight, sending shockwaves of heat directly to your core and raising goosebumps in their wake. All night you have felt flushed by his closeness, body responding to him as it always does by making itself pink and pretty, and making sure he sees. Gently, he strokes the soft skin of your inner thigh, as though this were perfectly normal and as though he didn’t know you had already started to sweat, skin sticking to the fine leather of the chair.

The purpose in his fingers is matched by the intensity of his stare, though it is not directed at you. Instead, he keeps his gaze trained on the fine china and the careful way his mother takes small sips of her coffee. He watches her as though he hasn’t hooked his index finger into the lining of your underwear, and pushed it aside to glide along your folds. He smiles as though he hasn’t felt how wet you are, how wet you always are, when his hands are on you. He smiles as though, beneath the table, he isn’t touching at all.

Like always, you lean into his touch, breasts straining against the fabric of your dress feeling untouched, unloved, and lonely. Across from you, his father talks idly about their upcoming vacation to the Maldives while, beside you, Chanyeol uses his wrist to urge your legs further apart, needy, and let’s the tip of his finger slip in and out of your center. Your gaze slips from his father’s face to the empty wine bottles that scatter the table, tongue heavy as you force a serene smile onto your lips.

Even without your gaze on him, you can tell Chanyeol is pining, blush teasing the length of his cheeks and mouth set in a slight pout as he speaks. For you, he has an endless list of impure thoughts, each one more explicit than the last, and with every gentle touch of your core they become more and more vivid. Sometimes, when you’re naked in his bed, skin and center hungry for more of him, he shares them, offering detail where he thinks it matters.

At dinners like this, he wants to lay you on the table and slide your underwear off, tucking it into his coat pocket next to his wallet. At dinners like this, he wants to push your dress up to your breasts and to pull your bra down, exposing your nipples to the cold while he keeps one, flat palm on your stomach, holding you down. He wants his head between your legs and his mouth on your clit. He wants your hand in his hair and your thighs shaking. He wants to feel you come before he hears it, to wear you on his face and tell the waiter his dessert was better than the meal.

At dinners like this, he wants everyone to know you’re his.

The knowledge of this makes a whine build in your throat, one that you swallow quickly and discreetly. Jutting your hips forward slightly, you lean back against your seat, left hand pulling your dress up higher to give him more room while your right fists gently into the tablecloth, clutching what you can to ground and concentrate. Wetness builds at your center around his finger, making you slick and making Chanyeol hum in satisfaction, curling his finger slightly in encouragement. The sound quakes in you, makes your heart and chest vibrate with nothing but him, and you part your lips to release a silent sigh, suddenly overwhelmed.

‘Do you have any upcoming vacations, Y/N?’

A voice cuts through the fog that has gathered in your mind, strong and forceful, low like Chanyeol’s but refined, demanding respect. Lifting your eyes from your lap, his father stares at you expectantly while his mother regards you, impassive and patient. Chanyeol does not relent, not even as his parents address you, continuing to stroke you, languid and just as demanding his father for a response. On instinct, you lean forward into his hand, body seeking something larger: second finger, maybe a third, the warm wetness and the strength of his tongue, preferably the hard thickness of his cock.

‘Sorry.’ Your eyes flutter for a moment as he thrusts his finger in to the knuckle. Immediately, you clench around him, urging him to keep still. ‘Not for a bit. Time off is hard to take since we’re short staffed on my team.’

‘That’s too bad,’ his mother chimes, mild and impartial. ‘You both work so hard. You deserve a break.’

He told you they would be like this, engaging in conversation only to offer placid, vague remarks that perpetually allude to how wealthy they are. It is not they they are self-important, merely that they don’t know much of anything else. To you, Chanyeol is a miracle, someone separate from his family and someone who shirks money and familial responsibility with a vengeance. Already, his father has swayed the conversation to business and stocks, a willful attempt to lure his son to a seat on the board. But Chanyeol has only nodded, offered surface level responses that were encouraging enough for his father to believe he cared. Like this, it’s hard to believe he’s their son at all.

And with his finger deftly thrusting languidly in and out of you, burying itself to the knuckle and curling at just the right times, it’s hard to believe the prim family before you raised him at all.

Leaning back, you spread your legs wide and turn to glance at Chanyeol, hoping your expression appears affectionate and adoring. Feeling your eyes on him, he adds his middle finger as a reward for your attention and gently lays his thumb by your mound, close to your clit without applying any direct pressure. The contact, partnered with the length of his second finger and the way it gets deep yet not deep enough still, makes you bite your lip as your sight become hyper-focused. You fixate on the veins in his neck, the way his pulse seems to throb, and the way his jaw is clenched. It’s hard for him, touching you like this without claiming all of you, greedy as usual like your body is his vice. Lowering your eyes to his lap, you find his right hand is tense, nails scratching into his trousers as he stops his joints from forming a fist.

The heat from your gaze paints a flush on the tips of his ears, and you feel proud. You’re proud you control the flow of his blood, but mostly you are proud of the bulge that lifts the fabric of his trousers, desperately seeking and anticipating the palm of your hand. He presses his back into his chair, turning to face you as he speeds his ministrations, eyes blown wide with desire. Unable to hold his stare without giving yourself away, you turn back to his parents and gather the strength to speak.

‘Will you be bringing the boat on your vacation?’ you offer weakly, voice tight.  

‘Ah,’ his father hums, taking a sip of his bourbon. ‘We still are renovating the captain’s bed. We’ll just rent one when we’re there.’

Mutely you nod, hoping it appears as though this activity is perfectly normal and that you aren’t at all surprised renting a boat is a standard event most adults experience. This, though, is interrupted as Chanyeol leans over and lets his lips brush lightly against your ear, breath hot and radiating down your neck, walking down your spine into your center. For a moment, you think he might kiss you, might stop his actions altogether and give you a moment to catch your breath, but then you remember that this place suits neither of you, and pretty words were never your style.

‘I can’t wait to stretch your cunt, feel how tight you are all over me,’ he breathes, low baritone thick and heavy with gravel.

At once, you know that if this continues you will come, loud and exposed in front of his parents and in front of the other patrons. It’s too much, he is too much, and so you cover the moan he pulls from your chest with a cough.

‘Excuse me,’ you announce abruptly, pushing your chair back and core off of his fingers. ‘I’m just going to the ladies room to freshen up.’

Praying that his mother doesn’t ask to follow or join, you turn on your heels without a second glance to the table. The silk underwear you chose, now soaked with your wetness, glides between your thighs as you walk, turning your stride uncomfortable and uneven. Inside you, your cunt throbs with the ghost of his fingers, haunted and keening for his touch. Even several feet away from the table, you can smell him, body yearning to be close to him, to have him inside you, filling you. The day you met him, you knew he would be an addiction you would never shake, and you hate that, already, you are proving yourself right.

Pushing through the bathroom door, you head straight to the sink, one long continuous slab of marble. Clutching it like a cross, you close your eyes and steady the thunderous rhythm of your heart as it battles the cage of your sternum. The marble cools the hot skin of your palms, easing the temperature of your hands and nowhere else. Opening your eyes, you lift your head with a few shaking breaths and regard yourself in the mirror. Sweat has started to collect at your neck and the flush from your chest has expanded from your breasts to your throat, lips chapped and swollen.

It crosses your mind that you are glad you wore your hair down, easier to hide the truth than if you had chosen a style more refined. This reprieve is brief, mind racing and thighs clenching at the knowledge of why you look like this, why you are a shameless, wanton thing, and you hold his image behind your eyes. Digging your fingers into the sink, you stop yourself from running back to the table to have him, body fighting to get to him, to have him on you, around you, inside you. Once more, you feel his fingers stroking and coaxing at your center, and you remember how dangerously close he had brought you to the precipice of your climax.

As though he heard your thoughts, Chanyeol emerges through the door, steps hurried and brisk as he crosses the room. Your eyes meet in the mirror as he stands behind you, both of you breathing heavy and breathing deep, electrified by the closeness. Whole conversations live and die between you, and none are filled with blame. You love this, both of you, love the feeling of eyes searching and eyes finding the way your bodies meet in public, indecent and inappropriate.  

Keeping his gaze fixed on yours, he rests his hand against the curve if your ass, palming and massaging the flesh as he bites his lip. Inhaling a sharp breath, you spread your legs slightly to welcome his touch, swallowing hard as you watch the way blood rushes beneath the plumpness of his lip. Unable to handle only this, he drags his hand up your spine and into your hair, fisting it into a knot and turning you to face him. He presses you flush against his chest, molding you to him as he pulls your head back, your jaw relaxing and chin dropping with the new angle. Enjoying the view, of your surrender and your prideful desire, he pauses only momentarily before slanting his lips over yours as he invades your mouth with his tongue.

The kiss is messy and impatient, all teeth and tongue and a white hot need that scorches your bones to ash. His fingers tighten in your hair, your eyes wincing with the pain that turns to pleasure and you wind your hands beneath his jacket to press your hands into the muscles of his back. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Chanyeol spreads your feet further apart before pressing a knee into your mound. The pressure makes you whimper, breaking from the kiss with a high pitched whine as you grind against him, needy and craving. He smiles against your lips, glad the the noises he pulls from you are his alone, noises of a liberated appetite you no longer can control.

‘I’ve been waiting to hear that since you got in my car.’ As he speaks, his lips brush against yours, teasing.

Moving your hands from his back to card through his hair, you lean up on your toes and draw your tongue along his lips, coy and barely there, before sucking at his bottom lip.

‘Why didn’t you make me then?’ you ask, cocking your head to the side and flashing him an impish grin.

Eyes black, he furrows his brow, expression morphing into something domineering and possessive. ‘It’s not your place to tease,’ he murmurs, deep voice cascading over your skin as he nips at your lips. ‘Do you know how bad you’ve been? I’ve been so good to you tonight, baby.’

Scratching your nails into the soft skin of his neck, you laugh. ‘Don’t lie. I’ve been good for you.’ You bring your hands around his neck to the neat Windsor knot of his tie, and deftly work your fingers through the fabric, loosening it to prise apart the top buttons of his shirt. ‘I didn’t make a sound.’

Skin exposed, you push your hands beneath the collar of his shirt to dig your nails into his shoulders, reveling in the way he releases a his. Like wildfire, they roam, mapping the length of his collarbones and scratching into his chest. You glide your nose along his jaw until you come to the sensitive skin beneath his neck, letting your tongue lap gently at the spot before your gently brush your teeth over it.

Chanyeol tightens his grip on your hair as he elicits growl, pulling you back slightly before turning you back to face the mirror. He takes two steps forward, trapping you between his body and the sink, bending you forward just enough to make you hold the sink for purchase. Like this, he releases his hold on your hair, keeping his hand on your hip as he slides down your back to the hem of your dress. Bunching it up, he guides your feet apart and tugs the waistband of your underwear down, resting at your thighs to expose your ass.

Once more, your eyes meet in the mirror, this time his gaze is intense and authoritative, while your own blurs with lust. He handles your body as though it’s been his to touch since before you met him, making your mind and memory feel like fog. With his hands on you, it’s easy to match his will and to submit, easy to relinquish control and let him lead. Gently, he massages your ass while he studies you, suddenly serious.

‘You know what you did,’ he states, squeezing the flesh tightly before releasing to massage it again.

‘I - I don’t,’ you manage through a moan.

Removing his hand, he snaps the band of your underwear. ‘I told you wear these only for me.’ His voice is thick, hot, melted chocolate against your nerve. ‘But you’re wearing them here, for them.’

Placing his hand back on your ass cheek, he stops moving entirely and lets his gaze bore into yours. ‘Do you know what happens to bad girls?’

With a shaking breath, you shake your head, innocently biting your lip.

You know what happens.

You know what happens, but you want to hear him say it.

The hand at your hip tightens and pulls you back slightly, stabilizing you and keeping you still.

‘They get spanked.’

It’s the only explanation he provides, but it feels like liquid fire in your synapses. Swiftly, he lifts his hand before bringing it back down hard against the baby soft skin. Yelping at the sensation, you jut forward slightly, hand slipping along the sink from the force. Correcting yourself quickly, you life your head and meet his gaze again as he softly rubs at the sting, feeling your wetness gather considerably between your folds.

‘One for disobeying me.’

Again, he spanks you, this time harder than the first, shifting the air with the strength of his motion and amplifying the sting. Now, you don’t cry from the shock, you moan, deep and pleasured, relishing the pain and forcing yourself to keep your eyes trained on the sparks that ignite in his irses. Your thighs become damp, slick and sweaty as your cunt begins to drip.

‘Two for this fucking dress.’ He follows his words with a deep chuckle, barely audible but yours, and it makes you grip the sink tighter.

He offers you a few more gentle rubs, the motions feeling almost too affectionate for the way he’s claiming you. But once again he lifts his hand, slapping the exact same spot hard enough to leave a print, and this time tears form in the corners of your eyes, seemingly out of place for the blissful smile you offer the ceiling as your lift your head in ecstasy.

‘And that,’ he cooes, bringing his mouth to your ear, where he lets his lips rest as he speaks, ‘is for making me so hard it fucking hurts.’

Slowly he reaches his hand between your thighs to drag a finger over your slit. With your head resting against his shoulder, you release a gasp of pleasure, tight and sounding more like a whine, body feeling overstimulated and wired. Against your ear, he groans.

‘You’re such a good girl. You’re fucking perfect,’ he mutters, pressing his lips against your neck, biting whatever skin he can find. ‘Dripping wet and ready for me. I bet I could fuck you right now, slide right into this tight cunt and make you come just by the feel of me.’

He’s right, you know he’s right, and you want to say as much, but the overwhelming need to feel him between your legs consumes you. Your voice breaks, becoming a shattered thing that manages little more than a hollowed gasp. He releases a low hum as he presses two fingers into you while his other hand rubs circles into your hip, your body starting to tremble against him.

‘Chanyeol,’ you whine, aching for a hard, penetrative touch that fondles your release. ‘Please.’

Keeping the pace of his fingers slow and serene, he merely offers you a noise of pleasure. ‘I fucking love it when you say my name.’

Pushing your ass back against him, you grind against him in rough circles, rubbing against the hardness of his member. At the contact, Chanyeol grits his teeth and hisses, pressing his fingers into your hip in an effort keep you still.

‘I need you to fuck me,’ you breathe, focusing on the way his fingers pick up pace inside you. ‘Please just fuck me. I want to come on your cock’

‘I -’

Whatever he had intended to say is cut off by the sound of voices and the clack of high heeled shoes approaching, the high pitched laugh of women making its way to the bathroom.

Within seconds he removes his body, stepping back and leaving you lonely and in a painful state of missing. Without his warmth radiating into you, you suddenly feel like a lost planet, cold and roaming in search of its moon. Immediately, his hand finds yours as he pulls it from the sink with a quick tug, turning you quickly to lead you to a stall at the end of the row. Easily, he guides you inside and makes to the shut the door, locking it silently.

It’s when he turns to look at you that you see him again, the Chanyeol that you first met and the Chanyeol you call yours. A wide smile plays at his lips, exposing his teeth and turning his eyes to crescent moons, fully alive and delighted by the thrill. He loves this, and so do you. This is your game. This is how you fucked and continue to fuck, taking ownership of one another over and over, all along a city map to make the world yours. Finding each other over and over, your love somehow magnified by the risk.

The women push into the bathroom, laughing and talking loudly about the audacity of the people they are friends with. Stifling a laugh, you roll your eyes at the smallness and insignificance of the conversations of the rich and bored. Grabbing your hips, he rotates your bodies until he can sit on the toilet and he presses a finger to his lips, ensuring you remain quiet. Pulling you to him, he runs his hands up your legs while keeping his eyes on yours, expression lewd, and slides your underwear down to your ankles. Stepping out and kicking them to the side, you rest your hands on his and ease them up your stomach to your breasts.

Chanyeol’s lips move with silent thoughts and words as he pushes the front of your dress down, exposing your bra and folding it over to kiss the center of your chest. Electricity moves within your veins, body angling towards him to be devoured and consumed. Your hands fist in his hair, breath catching and halting in your lungs as he moves his mouth to your breast to suck a nipple between his teeth. While he teases the sensitive nub, his hand massages your other breast before he switches, providing equal attention and holding you to him while he presses fingers into your ribs.

For a moment, you get lost in the feel of him, letting yourself capsize in the way he knows all the right places to touch you. Always, his hands pull at you, drawing your soul out from the shackles of your bones to cradle it in the palms of his hands. You allow yourself this luxury only for a moment before you pull off him, stepping back slightly and mouthing the word condom as you move you place a hand between your legs, gathering your wetness onto your finger. You bring it to his lips, a devilish grin on your face, which he matches, eagerly, as you spread your juices over his bottom lip, watching it glimmer.

At once, he sucks your finger into his mouth, eyes rolling back into his head at the taste. Lapping at it with his tongue with hot and hard licks at the skin that are flagrant in his gluttony, he furrows his brow as he watches you and swallows a moan as he drags your finger between his teeth to prevent the sound of a pop. Never once does he move his gaze from yours as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a condom, twirling it between his fingers with pride. He rises to a stand, looming over you with playfulness tucked into the corner of his mouth, and he swiftly begins to undo his belt and trousers.

When he’s like this, he likes to think he wins you over, that he’s the one in control, and you assume this maybe where the traits from his father begin to shine. Months ago, you used to think this was what he wanted of you, someone he could bend and shape to match his needs, someone submissive and someone willing to let him have whatever he wanted, neither questioning nor challenging his will. It took weeks of memorizing his body and the way his muscles quiver beneath your touch to know he needs someone to match him, someone who gives as good as they can take.

And so, you step towards him, tension heavy and palpable between you, and you smile sweetly, innocently, as you glide your dress up, exposing your thighs, your cunt, your abdomen, enjoying the way his expression becomes pained when he cannot have his hands on you.

He recovers quickly, shoving his trousers down with his briefs in tow, pumping and stroking himself with a tight fist as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

‘Come sit on my dick like the good girl you are, and maybe I will let you come.’

On a normal day, this would get to you. Words like this would make you cave and make you crumble, keening into his touch and begging him to smooth all your sharp and jagged edges. On a normal day, this is where you’d let him win. But this is a day in which you’ve spent hours making yourself into someone who feels a little bit less than the person you are, hours in which you stomached backhanded compliments and let people with money believe your small salary somehow made you less interesting.

This is a day in which you let him and his family have a version of you that should never exist, and so you take the condom from his hand and tear it open, eyes never leaving his. Rolling it on and letting the tips of your fingers stroke the veins of his cock, you lean your head to the side and don’t bother to keep your voice low.

‘Fuck me like the obedient boy you are, and maybe tonight I’ll suck you clean and swallow you off my tongue.’

The voices of the women at the mirror halt, caught off guard by the murmur of your tone, while Chanyeol twirls you and brings you onto his lap to thrust up into you, burying himself to the hilt. All night he’s been stretching you, teasing you and making sure you were wet enough to take him, but nothing ever compares to the hot steel of his member and you tense around him, getting used to the feel of him so deep inside. He presses a hand over your mouth to keep you from crying out, your nails digging into his thighs.

You both remain still, breathing hot and heavy against one another while the women keep talking, unphased by the noise. You’ve taken him like this before, many times over and more to come still, but always his girth catches you off guard.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he moans into your ear, quiet enough for just you to hear. ‘Your cunt is always so fucking tight.’

Leaning back against him, you nod and ease his hand off your mouth to whisper. ‘Then you better fuck me hard enough to remember you’re the only one who fits.’

At this, he sets a vigorous rhythm, thrusts unrelenting and powerful, moving hard and deep. There’s something unforgiving about the way he fucks into you, as though you’re the one who has been teasing him the entire night, as though he’s the one who’s been leaking since the coffee was brought to the table. You think, perhaps, he might have been, and this is what makes you clench your walls around him, tight and aggressive in the way you make it hard for him to pull out of you. He buries his fingers into your hips, head dropping and mouth latching to your shoulder where he bites the skin purple.

‘One day,’ he grunts, letting his tongue trace the shell of your ear, ‘I’m going to come inside you. Fill this pretty cunt up and watch it leak out of you.’

‘Do it,’ you whine, reclining against him and feeling the pressure begin to build at the base of your spine.

Chanyeol has kept you lingering on the edge of climax all night, pushing and pulling you forward as though you his plaything. Reaching back, you wrap an arm around his neck to play with the hair at the nape of his neck while your other plays with the hair on his legs. The depth of his thrusts is piercing, just as hard as they are long, angled perfectly against your g-spot.

Feeling your hands on and all over him, hearing the way he eases you out of a state of control, makes his focus slip and his voice break. ‘I’d smear it on your thighs.’

The harsh rasp of his tone washes over you, rich and taught with arousal, and makes your skin start to ache. Usually, this is where he’d slow his pace, move in circles within you, teasing and focused on making this last. But tonight, you are both too far gone to consider the usual rules of your game, neither able to draw this out and make it last. With you wrapped around him like this, he groans into the back of his throat, and relishes the way you make him feel a little bit trapped.

‘Maybe I’ll come on your tits,’ he adds, walking a hand over to your mound, barely there and almost weightless. ‘Make you spell my name with it, mark you.’

The muscles of your thighs begin to tighten, walls clenching around him in erratic, unplanned patterns as your orgasm starts to build. Frantic, your hands clutch at him, teeth starting to chew at your cheeks while you nod at everything and nothing. You want to gasp for breath, and know that you cannot. You want to moan, think that sound in this situation would ease the tension in your spine, but, while you don’t have the care to make this last, you still know the rules.

‘Chan - Chan,’ you stammer, voice impossibly small. ‘I need to come.’

You don’t mind that you sound like you’re begging, certain that your body would break if the coil in your spine wound any tighter.

At your words, he presses his fingers to your clit, working the nub in hard, messy circles. On contact, you release a gasp, loud and audible, and making the women in the bathroom sneer in disgust as they rush from the room. Still, you both remain quiet, too far gone and adept at being quiet to switch. Thighs beginning to shake, your eyes begin to water slightly, focus narrowing on Chanyeol.

The way he moves inside you, relentless. The way he breathes against you, hot and heavy and turning your blood to fire. The he shudders every time you scratch his thigh at the same time you clench around him. The way he whines, small and a little bit lost, every time you grind down into his thrusts.

‘I’m - Chan, oh fuck,’ you gasp, words splintered and fading into nothingness.

‘Are you going to come?’ he asks, pressing his fingers harder into your clit.

Unable to speak, you simply nod, adjusting and moving against him with abandon, desperate for your release.

‘Come for me,’ he commands, speeding his thrusts and his fingers. ‘Come.’

Your body clenches around him, fingers grasping at his hair while your other hand clutches his leg to keep yourself steady. The strength of your orgasm makes you begin to shake, coiling around him and making your bones begin to quake. Inside you, he keeps pace, voice high pitched and somewhat frantic as he feels your walls flutter and milk him with every thrust. Arching back you release a deep hum, a sound you think matches the intense way he’s unmade you, unmade you and put you back together with the steady movement of his hips. The nerves along your skin become raw, frayed things, over sensitive and throbbing even against the air that touches them, touch and smell and taste burned through to the core of you.

Chanyeol continues through your orgasm until you fall slightly limp against him, spent and sweating and wholly alive. Pressing his head into your neck, he keeps pace, chasing his orgasm as his fingers press bruises into your skin. Gathering your strength, you grind down against him one last time before he quivers against you, coming with a force that makes him gasp for breath, as though he were drowning. Like this, he spasms for several seconds before he stills, has hands easing in their hold while his lips press gentle kisses to the tendons in your neck.

You remain in silence for several minutes, both unable to speak and unable to move, appalled by the idea. Idly, you wonder if it will ever feel less than this - less good, less raw, less fun.

You know that it won’t.

Eventually, he starts to laugh, giggling uncontrollably against you, the sound infectious and making your own laugh spill from your chest.

‘Do you think they heard us?’ he asks, body shaking.

You don’t hesitate to answer, grinning. ‘Yes.’

‘Do you think my parents know?

‘Absolutely.’

Humming, he turns your head to press a long kiss against your lips. ‘Good.

[sylleboi]

𝕾𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖘 | 25/11/19

When I initially heard of the content for this brief, I couldn’t help but get excited. I have a soft spot for illustration and concept art, as well as world building and writing (especially fantasy). After reading through the brief for “Seekers”, I immediately thought of a short story I have been writing for around a year and a half at this point, the plot and context fitting perfectly with the challenge that the brief sets.

During the morning we briefly went through the good things and the things that “need improvement” from the past two briefs;

Good:

Responding to the workshop and technical skills. This includes how each person within the class have responded to the challenged on a technical level, being really good.

Developing ideas past the workshop activities and building technical skill through repetition and synthesis.  This is purely based upon the development each individual have gone through and made thus far and exploring beyond what the brief asks to do, as well as using more primary reseach at a higher rate.

Understanding technical terms and their use within the specific subject. This describes how well we do at resiting all the terms thrown at us. 

Need improvement:

Drawing & Repetition Make sure to draw often; ideally every day, but in general just as much as possible.

Drawing from observation- draw from primary research! We do this a little, but we have to keep at it and stick to it.

Evaluate and conclude It’s important to make sure to evaluate and conclude at the end of each blog post; “What have I learnt and what will I do?” Also try and be more conclusive and forward with the evaluations. It’s also important that we make sure to keep reflecting upon everything we go through each day that we work.

Visual language Our research needs to talk more about the visual language; more about what you can see and why this is important to you and the work you have done and will produce.

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𝕾𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖘

(2D problem solving)

Aims and objectives

Be able to analyse and research a 2D problem in art & design.

Be able to use an integrated approach to 2D problem-solving in art & design.

Be able to use evaluation to support solutions to problems in 2D in art & design.

Using an integrated approach means to apply what other things we have learnt as well as integrating all the ideas we have, to create a successful concept, story and narrative for this brief. 

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What have I learnt, and what will I learn now?

I have learnt:

Rotoscoping

Character turnaround

Model sheet

Frame by Frame = sequence

Illusion of life

Digital programs (photoshop & illustrator)

I will learn:

Character narratives

Fantasy

Frame by Frame animation

Key poses

Primary observation and research

Concept art

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Are there different types of characters?

Protagonist

Antagonist

Sidekick

“Damsel in distress” & “Male hero”- try and subvert to be inclusive and original!

Ice breaker task - Key terms

Find the definition for the following terms (these need to be presented in your production file in your own words to establish the character design part of your project):

Who is the Protagonist?

This is the main character or one of the major characters in a play, film, novel, etc. It is not at all unheard of that the protagonist is a heroic figure for. They make the key decisions and experience the consequences of these decisions and actions. Protagonists usually go through a journey to learn and evolve upon themselves.

Who is the Antagonist?

They are the rival of the protag. A person who actively opposes or is hostile to someone or something; an adversary. They are often portrayed as characters with a dark background; an example of this could be an evil ruler that grew up in an abusive environment or something alike.

What is an Archetype?

This can be defined as a very typical example of a certain person or thing, often very generalising/stereotypes, but this is not how you would define archetypes in storytelling specifically. Archetypes can be defined as for example; the sidekick or comical release character (the jester), the mentor (wise), the innocent, the explorer, the hero, the lover, the ally, the trickster, the guardian, the shadow, the ruler, the friendly beast. Essentially, they are different roles.

The protagonist should:

Be someone the audience can identify with through empathy.

Go through changes/stages during the quest (emotionally or physically)

Break rules and makes mistakes but is always good at heart, putting others before themselves. 

Quest: 

A quest is a journey that someone takes, in order to achieve a goal or complete an important task. Accordingly, the term comes from the Medieval Latin “Questo”, meaning “search” or “inquire”.

Heroic protagonist (definition given from the brief): 

The main character within a story and told a narrative that goes on a dangerous mission against all odds to save a group of people or a society. Sometimes, the hero sets out on a quest to find a symbolic object or person and bring it or them back to his/her/their home. They also have a particularly large presence in Medieval romance, folklore and Greek and Roman mythology, and have been playing an important role in fiction since the earliest examples of English literature.

What does the fantasy hero look like?

Artists to take inspiration from

Good/Hero/Protagonist:

Simon Bisley

Andrew Maclean

Luke Pearson

Bad/Villain/Antagonist:

Frank Frazetta

Pendleton Ward

Jeffrey Alan Love

Task:

Put together 2 similar “slides” in keynote (hero/villain) with 3 visual examples on each. We then printed them out and then answered the following questions in note form around the artists we chose;

Describe the visual language (line, texture, tone, colour, shape, form) using descriptive words & sentences

What does this visual language (the way it looks) communicate about the character/personality?

In your opinion, what visual characteristics of the artwork make the example particularly heroic or villainous?

Good/Hero/Protagonist:

“Hey, you.”

Describe the visual language (line, texture, tone, colour, shape, form) using descriptive words & sentences

Tony Zhou Shuo is a very inspiration artist in my eyes. In the majority of his artwork, he manages to convey shape and readability clearly by using minimal strokes. This is something I have learnt to understand is key for illustrating concept art or general illustrative work for stories. An example, different from the use of shape, is the texture of the brushes he uses. They are rough, creating a feel of sand moving across the rocky desert.

What does this visual language (the way it looks) communicate about the character/personality?

To me, it feels mischievous, but not necessarily in a villainous way; which is what drew me in to this piece in particular when attempting to find some inspiration for my own character/characters. The hooded figure in the foreground is the main subject, looking back towards the sound of the strangers, thinking the hooded person is just the same to them, a stranger. This automatically makes your eyes wander to the figures in the background, that then point back to the hooded figure. It’s a very smart approach for conveying storytelling within a still image. As an illustrator in particular, it is crucial that you can convey the wanted message or meaning without the use of motion or sound; this is much like in film-making or book writing; if you are vague or limited in the way you tell the story, the viewer automatically fills in the blanks.

In your opinion, what visual characteristics of the artwork make the example particularly heroic or villainous?

The fact that the overall mood of the painting is portrayed to be bright and warm gives me a feeling of the character in the foreground not actually being “bad”, just questioned (the title being “Hey, you”) and potentially unwanted. I suppose an example of this could be Assassins Creed. The main characters within this world are feared and unwanted by many since they are assassins sent to kill, yet they are not portrayed as being the villains of the story, but in fact the opposite. It all depends on how you choose to portray the character in a given scenario. It can very easily be altered, which is what I did to prove that this point stands. I did this very quickly by just adding a multiply layer and some stars and highlights (as if the hooded guy now is in the spotlight, caught off guard, now indicating that they are up to nothing good.):

“Viking Boy”

Describe the visual language (line, texture, tone, colour, shape, form) using descriptive words & sentences

I absolutely adore the art style of Tim Mcburnie. It is very stylistic, but it has its own unique flare to it with the use of brushwork and texturing. Primarily this is seen in the landscape. I think he uses different pictures of watercolour and setting the layer mode to something like overlay to create those moody and strong, gritty textures. With the art style being heavily stylised compared to Tony’s work, he uses line very efficiently. Despite the line work being relatively loose and messy, it still manages to make the subject/subjects (the boy and the Viking huts ((village?)) + smoke in the background) stand out without feeling as if they are completely out of place.

What does this visual language (the way it looks) communicate about the character/personality?

The visual language used for this painting in particular, manages to communicate the rough environment that was the Viking age (793–1066 AD). Back then things worked more primitively; death often being brutal and inevitable if either sick or on the wrong side of the border to enemy territory.

In your opinion, what visual characteristics of the artwork make the example particularly heroic or villainous?

The composition I find to be really appealing in this particular piece. The way that the boy feels as if he’s gone from his home in the village behind him to begin a journey. He looks young and his expression resting on his face communicates that he seems nervous and wary of his surroundings. To me, he seems innocent and not a person based upon anything evil; like a hero in the making.

“Night Trip”

Describe the visual language (line, texture, tone, colour, shape, form) using descriptive words & sentences

For context, Night Trip is a short comic story done by the artist Mi Dong. I chose this piece in particular (the cover for the story) for multiple reasons, with the main one being his use of line. The comic itself is only illustrated using line work, which isn’t uncommon in comics, but even the cover itself portrays what you can expect in a very clear way. This is what really drives the interest to this Mi Dong’s work in particular. The use of colour and value for this cover picture has clearly been thought about; For the values, it is easier seen when making the illustration black & white;

When looking at the desaturated version, the values already speak clearly by themselves, even without the aid of colour. The subjects base value is much brighter than the backgrounds base value. This makes sure that the viewer can differentiate the subject from the background without a struggle. It is also worth mentioning that the choice of line has also been used to create texture, which works very well as a stylistic approach since it matches all the other aspect of this illustration that I have gone over previously.

What does this visual language (the way it looks) communicate about the character/personality?

The overall feeling that I get personally is a mix of “overwhelmed”, “daunting” and “fear”. This I believe is based on the fact that the texture of the line work plays such a big role in making the piece come to life. If there were no texture and only flat colour, it wouldn’t portray emotion as strongly and confidently as it does with the texturing applied. The texturing used in this drawing also indicates some kind of “danger”. This is purely because of the way that Mi Dong has chosen not to use any texture on the main subject; in fact, there has only been used flats for the foreground subject- signalling a sense of purity compared to the looming figure in the background.

In your opinion, what visual characteristics of the artwork make the example particularly heroic or villainous?

I think that with everything mentioned about this piece of artwork, It definitely leans toward the feeling of “heroic” if you focus on the main subject, but I also definitely shares traits of “villainous” characteristics if focusing on the background subject. Without knowing the content of the comic itself, the figure seeming to be looming in the dark and behind the subject, the figure might be a distorted version of the main subjects; indicated by their eye colours being the same; infant, they share all the same colours. Weather that’s nothing but a stylistic choice, or of a deeper meaning, it works quite well, because it lets your mind wonder “What does this mean?”, “Why does the person look so afraid?”, “What are they afraid of?- Why are they looking at me? am I the monster?” That is why this cover is successful. It makes the reader want answers, therefore willingly indulging themselves into the story, narrative and plot-line, on their own quest for answers based upon their curiosity.

Bad/Villain/Antagonist:

“Dragon hunters”

Describe the visual language (line, texture, tone, colour, shape, form) using descriptive words & sentences

I chose this piece for several different reasons. The obvious being; the dragon. My entire plot is based upon the lore of dragons and how they are hunted down by men, so this was great inspiration! The other reason is how my “villain” is not actually anyone in particular, but instead, it is the society living in the universe I have created. People are the ones killing what isn’t actually there to cause harm, but everyone believes that the dragons are cold-blooded killers. Loosely, this is the basic premise of which I base the plot in reality; We kill the earth in ignorance with pollution and plastics choking life, even in a literal sense. - In my story, mankind does this, but with the dragons. They are in the way, and the quickest way to get rid of them is by eliminating them. The drawing is highly rendered, which is what initially (alongside the use of perspective and scale) drew me into it. This illustration doesn’t need words to explain what is happening. The storytelling is so clear and loud, which is absolute key when portraying story within a limited amount of frames (or often even just by using a single canvas).

What does this visual language (the way it looks) communicate about the character/personality?

This question can be interpreted in different ways depending on who you refer to; the dragon or the hunters. The dragon seems to be fleeing from the hunters, trying to take it down. For some reason, the overall perspective and scenario reminds me of when you go hunting for the air balloons with your parents in the car to see where they land; it almost in itself feels like a quest. In the painting, it can be argued as to who the bad guy is, the dragon or the hunters? This is where, once again, ones imagination comes into play to fill out the “gaps” and attempt to answer all the questions it sparks. “Why is the forest burnt down?”, “Did the dragon do that?” If so, then why did it do that?”, “Is it evil or did the hunters agitate it or scare it?”.

In your opinion, what visual characteristics of the artwork make the example particularly heroic or villainous?

I think that the fight between whether the dragon or the men are the villain in this is what makes it stand out so much. It tells the scenario clearly, but yet there are so many unanswered questions left to be looked into. You could write an entire story just from this premise alone.

“Dragon Hunter”

Describe the visual language (line, texture, tone, colour, shape, form) using descriptive words & sentences

I chose this piece of artwork done by Julian Calle for several different reasons; one of them being the use of colour and a potential underlying meaning hiding. The colours used in this illustration are all very desaturated, which works well when referring to the content and scenario of what's happening. It gives off a strong and moody feel without the use of a wide arrange of colours. The other reason to why I chose this piece of artwork in particular, is to do with the fact that it most definitely is based on the Viking age (Which my concept is as well). You can tell by the types of weapons, tattoos and the shield in the background, all being very typical for this time period; Even the shoes are common for this time period.

What does this visual language (the way it looks) communicate about the character/personality?

Because it feels so messy despite the fact that it’s highly rendered, it gives off the feeling of the aftermath of a long battle. You can almost imagine the characters chest rising and falling to even out their breathing, with the sound of the crows’ flapping wings, settling around the dead bodies of the battlefield. - What I found to be particularly interesting is how a deeper meaning of “a new beginning” after an “end” might be lurking within the sky; behind all the fog and the dark clouds is a blue sky slightly peaking through. In old folk lore, it is not at all unheard of to have used the idea of death being a new beginning, so I thought this was a really smart detail.

In your opinion, what visual characteristics of the artwork make the example particularly heroic or villainous?

I put this in the “villain” section due to the fact that I personally really like how the hunter almost looks barbaric; fearless and bloodthirsty in battle. This is definitely something I will be considering for the design aspect of a specific army in my concept, thought it could also be interesting to try and translate this very “barbaric” design into something that leans more towards the role of a blacksmith or craftsman.

“Swords”

Describe the visual language (line, texture, tone, colour, shape, form) using descriptive words & sentences

“Swords” by the talented concept artist Max Steksov is a small collection of illustrations that focus on a heated battlefield. I have known this guys work for a while, and I really enjoy looking at his work. His eye for doing composition and making every aspect of a drawing move, despite it actually being still, is impeccable. Each detail has a meaning to it. He uses texture, but compared to the other artists mentioned in this list, the texture he uses is very fine and less saturated. I find this to be a great way of levelling out the clean feel of his style, while still conveying the gritty and harsh reality that battles that shed blood are.

What does this visual language (the way it looks) communicate about the character/personality?

To me, I find it to be very successful in conveying a lot of aspects related to war; how morbid humanity can be over things that, in the bigger picture, seems pointless at times. Since I myself have a war integrated into the plot of my story, I found this incredibly inspiring.

In your opinion, what visual characteristics of the artwork make the example particularly heroic or villainous?

As mentioned: war. Even if it’s portrayed as a heroic thing to do (fight for your pride, land, country or/and freedom), there are also some more villainous underlying factors hidden within this; at the end of the day, all these men battling and killing each other are just like one another; normal men. There are countless stories from WWI and WWII that talk about how soldiers from the enemy have become friends when holding some captive for a little while, to then be forced to murder them a few days later. It’s a dark concept, but that is also just the reality of it.

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Once we had finished the task given, we went over all the different types of creatures and character roles that we could think of, dividing them up into the stereotypical “Good” and “Bad” and “Unsure”, as well as “Accessories” and “Historical inspiration”, all for the benefit of letting ourselves get inspired by the words listed below for our own concept;

𝕸𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖘:

Good:

Fairies    Unicorn            ��Pegasus             Dwarf             

     Sage (wise/medical)            Cleric                   Paladin                      

  Fawn/Faun             Genie         Gnomes      Knight             

    Blacksmith                 Druid                       Monk

        Griffin       Hyppogriff                 Mermaid         

    Berserker           Phoenix                               Whisp

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Bad:

Goblin      Kelpie          Boggart             Minotaur      Hydra                

  Pixie        Krampus            Medusa         Banshee      

The headless horseman          Orges     Orcs           Nymph       

    Cyclops                    Triclops          Cerberus       Orthrus                    

Warlock                    Kraken      Succubus            Direwolf           

           Imp      Manticore         Cocotrice         Gorgon     

      Basilisk          Cthulhu                  Syrens       Zombie

   Ghoul             Skeleton            Wraith          Gargoyle 

            Reaper              Chimaera

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Unsure:

Dragon      Familiar            Witch                   Demons            

        Yokai          Trolls                  Yeti       Giants                   

    Centaur       Kings and Queens           Elf       Samurai 

              Gladiator           Rogue   Prince and princesses      

    Kaijo   Werewolf               Vampire/Vampyr

            Elemental        Jörmungandr

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Accessories: 

 Sword         Dagger            Katana     Axe               Wand    

             Shield            Potion                 Spellbook          

     Crystal                     Cauldron        Spear      Broomstick    

          Crystal ball          Scroll              Flask   Crossbow            

    Bow and arrow        Hammer         Witches hat/hats

Armour      Helmet           Jewellery           Flail             

            Bottle        Lantern       Knife                    Torch      

         Cloak      Sickle                 Sai        Whip        Pick   

    Scythe              Nunchucks                  Chakram

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Historical research:

  Greek mythology          Nordic/Norse mythology       

                 Local witch trials             Irish folktales      

        Scandinavian folklore            Japanese folklore

    Egyptian mythology       Biblical references       

                Roman mythology

[httphopewrld]

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

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

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slow-burn fluff, some angst, and SMUT

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

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I’ve written, and there’s more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU’RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS.

Word Count: more than 10,000 (not finished yet)

A/N: Happy birthday J-Hope! Although the fic won’t be released today, or tomorrow, on his birthday, it will be out next Friday (February 26). Please let me know in the comments if you wanted to be included in the taglist, and what you think!

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

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

[diego-hargreeve2]

light in the dark

Part Three 

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (Netflix)

Ship: Diego Hargreeves x Original Character

Warnings: Language, abuse (emotional and physical), mental illness, violence and, in later chapters, smut.

Maybe it was because she was like them, the only other one like them he’d met born with these strange abilities. Maybe it was because she was such an easy target for the thugs he despised - she was still so wide-eyed and fragile looking, exactly the sort of person who would be targeted if somebody didn’t keep an eye on him. Or maybe it was because she seemed to like him, admire him, encourage him even - no judgement or standoffish airs. 

Whatever it was he kept coming back to her, usually first thing in the evening. She’d hop in the car and they’d grab a drink, or just sit there with the radio on, one ear listening for trouble when she’d disappear, and he’d get stuck in.

That evening he hadn’t gone to the shelter first – he’d heard something on his way and diverted. It was the early hours of the morning as he headed back to the gym, he called home when he passed the shelter – and saw her, perched on a step outside despite the hour. Face creasing in a frown he pulled over sharply; at this hour even the city’s streets were quiet which was a blessing as it didn’t occur to him to check for other traffic.   “Kid, what’re you doing out here?” He said, speaking the moment he opened the door even before he’d finished getting out the car. “Wasn’t the point in taking you to a shelter to get you off the street?” he reminded her. 

Eve had been hunched over, folded in on herself, lost in her thoughts – but her head had snapped up as the car pulled up. Had it not been Diego she’d have moved, as it was she merely offered a shrug and a faint smile.

“The shelter was full and somebody else arrived. They needed the place more than me” she explained as she scrambled awkwardly to her feet. “They’d freeze out here” she pointed out. It was a cold evening, dry and crisp, and every breath she exhaled had mist rising before her.

“Don’t you need to keep warm? Keep that fire stoked?” He asked, giving in to some curiosity, and Eve smiled as she shook her head. “I’m never cold” she assured him. It wasn’t that she needed the heat to survive, the heat was inside her and nothing stopped it – the cold didn’t bother her like it did other people, because she was toasty regardless, and the heat never upset her either. Eve couldn’t be too warm, as far as she could tell. Diego nodded, accepting that at least, but he still looked annoyed.

“You might not be cold but it's not safe,” he told her, scolding and she blinked, abashed.

“I’m fine” she assured him. “I’ve slept rough a lot – honestly. I’m awake, and if somebody came, I’d go bang the door of the shelter – they’re just full tonight. Even the chairs are occupied”. Cold nights are the hardest if you live on the street.

“It’s not fine – I spent all evening seeing how dangerous this place is, and you think you can just stay out here all night?” He was annoyed enough to raise his voice and Eve stepped back, shrinking into herself automatically. You might think a lifetime of being shouted out would render her immune, but Eve had no ability to withstand confrontation, and her automatic response was to try to hide, to make herself invisible.

Diego was frustrated, but from concern rather than true anger – which gave him enough control to pull back and he signed, flexing his fingers before nodding toward the car.

“Get in. C’mon. You might not be cold, but you can’t just sit out here” he said, his tone brusque despite the kind intent behind it. The mixed signals had Eve hesitating, eyes wide as she bit her lip nervously. It was a strange combination - she’d grown up with the opposite, honeyed tones and stinging words.

“Kid. C’mon” he repeated, softening his tone further. There was something shaming about seeing her react to him like this. Normally, Diego liked to be seen as intimidating. Appearances could be half the fight. It didn’t bother him, he was proud even of his ability to threaten others, but with Eve…well, it was not impressive, it just felt wrong. Like scaring Bambi – it was too easy, too cruel and nothing to be proud of.

The nickname helped a little, that ridiculous moniker he’d given her, and Eve stepped forward and nodded slightly. Part of her wanted to point out that she was fine, that she didn’t need him to take care of her. That she had managed for years and he didn’t have to add to his burdens by caring for her. Right now, though, arguing was beyond her. Eve had very little ability to enforce boundaries or stand up for herself, and so she slid into the car silently.

“Where are we going?” she asked when both doors were closed, her voice subdued. “Since you’re too selfless for your own good, and I’m done working for the night – we’re going to my place. It’s not fancy but it’s safe” he assured her as the car pulled forward.  

                               ******************************************

Most people would have found the room warm, the boiler in the corner meaning even this sparse, cement basement had heat - but Eve was unaffected, though she looked around the place with a keen interest that had Diego’s eyes rolling. “Yeah, like I said, it’s not fancy” he repeated, gruff even though it was clear she wasn’t judging him. It was his home, it served its purpose - interior design wasn’t high up his list of priorities after all.

“Would you even want fancy?” Eve questioned. It had been a quiet journey, not an awkward silence or one filled with anger, just quiet, and that space had given her time to collect her thoughts and find her tongue again.

Diego snorted at her words. She had a point.

“Nah. I grew up in fancy. Who needs all that shit” he said, thinking of the rooms that belonged to Reginald Hargreeves. Their father had kept their bedrooms sparse and simple – well, most of them anyway, his favourites being an exception – but other areas of the house had betrayed his wealth and fondness for material possessions. Heavily framed paintings, suits of armour and stuffed creatures, damask upholstered furniture, gilt ornaments, and dark wood – very fancy. But not his style.

Eve’s acceptance of the space, and Diego’s choice of how to live, only lasted so long. As he approached a counter and picked up an egg she turned to ask another question, her mouth opening – but her expression grew horrified as he cracked the shell and poured the raw contents directly into his mouth.

“Did you just – eat that egg – raw?!”

She had never thought of herself as fussy. Growing up it was very much a ‘don’t eat that, don’t eat’ the environment, no catering to preferences, and when you sleep rough…well, you almost reduce yourself to eating what you can get. The past few years she’d grown used to street vendor hot dogs and junk that wouldn’t perish in a nuclear apocalypse, so you could certainly trust it shoved in a backpack. She had thought her only standard was not eating other people’s leftovers from the trash (and even that marked her as particular in the eyes of some homeless people) but she had never in all her days seen anybody eat raw egg and Eve learned that her standards were set slightly higher than she expected at that moment.

“It’s protein,” Diego told her, defensive at the look on her face.

“It was raw!” Eve repeated, finding it impossible to find any other response.

“It’s a bodybuilding thing – it takes work to look this good, sweetheart,” he told her, slapping one hand against his stomach. Eve’s gaze dropped to his hand, hearing the solid sound made by his palm against the muscles there. A weird feeling twisted inside her, finding herself wondering exactly what ‘this good’ would look like. Her cheeks coloured at her own thoughts and she glanced away, silent for a moment – and entirely missing the slight smirk that twitched Diego’s mouth from the corner as he guessed a pretty accurate idea of what she had suddenly found herself imagining.

“OK, so…fine…protein…” she said after a moment, trying to return to the conversation and to forget the image of him shirtless she had been contemplating. “But surely you can still cook it”.

“Look around – do you see cooking facilities?”

There he had a point. This was not a room that had been built with creating fine cuisine in mind. But she did have an idea.

“I think I might be able to help,” she told him, crossing to the sink and filling a mug that sat there with water. She dropped another egg into the water and slid her hands around the mug, hugging it with her fingers as though seeking warmth – it was quite the opposite actually. Focusing, a crease between her brows and her teeth nipping at her lower lip, she stared down at her hands as they began to glow – and the water began to bubble, slowly at first then faster.

Diego figured it out pretty quick, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That’s what you use it for?”

“You know, I’d never thought to before” she admitted after a moment.

For a beat of silence, he watched the cup, the boiling water – but his gaze rose to her face and that held more interest. She was so focused and intent as she tried this. Most of the time she just looked young and lost, the huge blue eyes in a heart-shaped face making her look younger than she was. He called her ‘kid’ on instinct, there was something about her that meant he felt older despite the fact they were the exact same age. But concentrating this hard, she had a fire in her expression that matched her palms. For a moment he let himself watch her, study her…and then pulled his mind and eyes away, turning abruptly and speaking with his back to her as he began to unbuckle the knife harness.

“How long you’ve known you could do it?”

“I…I think I was about…nine? When I realised I had some control over it”.

“That late?”

“I could do it earlier,” Eve told him, her turn to sound defensive. She had read Vanya’s book and knew they’d been far younger when their abilities first manifested. “But before then I didn’t realise it was me”.

“You thought fires just started?” Diego scoffed, turning back to her as he hung the harness over a chair back.

Eve swallowed, considering her answers. They weren’t strangers now. She thought they were friends – she’d had too few to be certain. And friends shared things.

“No…I…they said…” She lost her focus, her eyes glazing over slightly as she turned inward looking for the right words to describe. In doing so she began to remember. Being four years old and crying. Kneeling on the ground outside, naked, the rest of the Church circled around her praying. And the Prophet, their leader, standing tall with a whip in one hand and vial of holy water in the other as he tried to expel the demons from her. Back then she had believed them when they told her devils were using her, demons worked through her, that there was a core of evil in her heart – she had thought it was those monsters that created the fire.

It was a bad memory to visit. Her palms flared hot, too hot, and the china cracked beneath her fingers. The sound yanked her back and she yelped and, some instinct taking over, all but threw the cup into the sink – where it shattered, as did the half-cooked egg.

“I’m sorry”. The words left her lips quickly, too quickly, revealing how many times she had apologised for mistakes and clumsy moments in her life.

“You okay?” He learned toward, tilting his head so he could see her face as one hand moved to her shoulder. Diego figured something had happened in her head, had seen that sort of look before – the moment before the crack, she’d reminded him of Klaus. Her expression had that same haunted, heartbroken air that made him feel as though part of him as cracked as surely as the mug.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – I’m sorry” she repeated, her voice half a whisper and he very gently shook her, no violence or malice in the movement, just trying to get her attention.

“Hey, kid – the mug doesn’t matter. You alright?”

Eve blinked, turned her gaze to him slowly. He might have found her expression familiar, but Diego’s was all new to her. The level of concern, the softness and compassion, the want to help and the need to know she was okay – Eve had never seen anything like that before. Meeting his gaze she found it hard to swallow, hard to breathe for a moment.

“I’m alright” she managed to reassure him. Diego squeezed her shoulder gently before letting go, offering a weak joke to mask the concern he’d just displayed and break the tension he’d felt as well as she met his gaze.

“Good thing I don’t mind my eggs raw”.

@lovinglydiego

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