#maybe i should watch the movie from a few years ago with all the famous people

[kazz-brekker]

need to watch a good production of king lear. i think that would fix my brain.

[izzy-b-hands]

15 QUESTIONS FOR 15 FRIENDS

Tagged by @sherlockig, thank u Alexz!!

Under the cut bc I got wordy and rambly as per usual lol.

ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

Kind of? In that I more or less named myself after Izzy from our flag lol. Not that I'm going to tell everyone I meet that, but it is a big part of why I stuck with it after trying it out (that, and I've always wanted a name that had the letter zed in it, silly as that may seem.)

One of my middle names (that I had been using as a first name for a few years) is after my grandfather and aunt who also have that name as their middle name.

My deadname was after an actress famous in the 90s (tho tbh my mum apparently didn't choose it for that, she chose it bc she didn't find out my gender until I was Out and then was like 'aw fuck I don't have a name for this situation' and went with the first one she saw in a book of names a nurse gave her. It was only after that she remembered the actress when I was like. 4. that she changed and started telling ppl it was after that instead.)

And technically Holden is after the book character, but mum never actually read that book (and after I described it to her, said she has no interest in doing so lmao), she just liked how the name sounded and that was the one solitary name she for sure had on hand when I was born apparently. Could have saved us all time had she just used that one for me anyway!

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

Couple of nights ago. I'm doing better abt missing my cat Nisha, but my phone will toss up compilations of pics of her to mark the year/month/etc and sometimes those still get me. It popped up just before I went to bed that night and I was already so tired that I just. broke down. Bc I know she's v loved and looked after w/my mum, but I do miss her goofy lil self a lot. She was my first cat that was given to me and meant to be mine alone, and there's something abt that first pet bond I guess.

3. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

Nope, and it's not a likely thing for me. I've said before that that happening would be in a very specific situation, wherein I'm with someone who wants to dedicate the rest of our lives to raising a child, or god forbid more than one, tho I think I'd max out at two if I managed one at all tbh (and that's not even getting into the very complex for me thing of would I want to actually be pregnant ever (probably not, absolutely terrified of dying in childbirth and don't see myself getting over that easily), we have the funds to make that happen (and give the kid a good life, not just a decent one or 'could have been worse' like my own), and we feel stable mentally, emotionally, and physically (as much as one can outside of Life Happening of course) bc having a kid means putting allll of that first for them, ahead of yourself. Or at least I think it should mean that lol.

But that situation is incredibly unlikely considering my bigger goal in life is to wind up being a third for multiple couples while also fucking any of my friends who are down for it in a big poly ENM sort of thing for lack of better/more detailed definition (I know it sounds unrealistic and maybe it is to a degree, almost definitely is lol.)

I can admit I just. don't want to uproot the life I've been trying so hard to build for myself in so many ways, to have kids. I'll happily help babysit the kids of any friends tho and be the fun uncle that buys them junk food and lets them stay up late to watch movies. I think that's about the level of parenting of any kind that I can handle for now (also tbh I burned out on parenting bc my family admits they parentified the fuck outta me with my three younger cousins. It by far could have been worse, but I spent my teens spending most of my days after school helping look after them from the newborn years and on. Unless my above uber specific scenario happens, then I've probably had my fill of parenting for my lifetime.)

4. WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?

I played volleyball for a few years in elementary school, and we were made to participate in a multi-school track and field thing for most of middle school every year, but I was never amazing at them. Housemate and I have figured out I likely have undiagnosed asthma tho (turns out running or going out in too cold or hot weather shouldn't instantly make you gasp, struggle to breathe, and make you taste iron in your mouth, who the fuck knew? Not me, genuinely) so I think that might have a lot to do with it.

I also enjoy tennis and badminton and would love to try rugby, but I've never played any of those beyond a hobby with family/friends.

5. DO YOU USE SARCASM?

I do! Probably too much and not always in the best situations, but I've been working for years to hone when and where it should be used so I think/hope I'm a lot better with it than I was when I was younger. Tho even then, I did get adults who found it funny when I was sarcastic bc of how adult I seemed to a lot of them (their words, not mine lmao.)

6. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

I genuinely don't know. Usually I'm too busy running my script for meeting new ppl in my head and trying to maintain Common and Expected Etiquette to really notice much right away. I have found that after a bit of time/after the initial meeting has passed, I tend to notice colours ppl wear more often than others if I see them often enough, or hair colour. But I don't know if it counts towards this question at that point lol.

7. WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOUR?

Kinda blueish grey? Some ppl say it's too grey to be blue, others that it's too blue to be grey. I had a lady at the ND DOT freak out abt not being sure if I should have blue or grey on my ID a few years back, and she finally just told me to put blue so 'she could stop feeling so confused.' Was a weird day and the first time I realised apparently they really do have a blend of both colours, enough for it to be upsetting lmao.

8. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

I can't choose between the two; I like both! I also like mixing them together when I write (a scary story with a happy ending, an ending that seems happy but is actually terrifying, so on and so forth.)

9. ANY TALENTS?

Writing? Maybe, I always list it bc it's something I know how to do and to (usually) do decently well. I can sort of draw? But not well enough that I think 'talented' would be accurate to describe how I draw lol. I'm not sure of anything else off the top of my head tbh.

10. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?

In California, USA! We were there bc dad was in basic training for the Marines and then just got stuck at Camp Pendleton for years lmao (or that's how he always talks abt it anyway lmao.) Only was actually there until either: a. I was 3 months old, b. I was 6 months old or c. I was actually basically still a fresh newborn. Depends on whether you're talking to my dad, mum, or grandparents as to which answer you get, and at this point I'm genuinely uncertain as to exactly when mum left and took me to North Dakota but 6 months seems the most potentially accurate lmaooo.

11. WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?

Writing, drawing, reading (not enough but I'm trying to remedy that), napping, watching movies/fave shows, and giffing.

12. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?

Kind of? My cat Nisha had to stay in North Dakota after I moved, so my mum and her bf are looking after her now (and got her a little sister, a kitten who is getting so big already!, named Bella.) I help Housemate look after aer two cats as well, and I'd like to think the boys consider me like their fun uncle lol (aka I bend over backwards for them and let them steal my spot on the couch all the time, and will break out the treats if needed to corral them now and then. In my defense: they are the cutest lil baby boy cats and they deserve the world, even when they're being little gremlins lmao.)

13. HOW TALL ARE YOU?

Approximately somewhere between 5'3 and 5'4ish? I can't recall the last time I was actually measured, and most of the ppl I've been around were somewhere between those heights and I'm usually either slightly shorter or slightly taller than some of them, so??? I put 5'3 on my ID tho lol

14. FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL?

English bc it was easy and I liked almost everything we did in that class. All my general and more specific history courses were a close second, and my foreign language classes a close third.

15. DREAM JOB?

Ideally, I'd love to not have to work. But who wouldn't, so that said, probably something in a library or museum. I'd love to be a library page again, or help work the front desk/docent duties of a museum. Working at someplace like Mystic Seaport would be amazing too; I'd be happy to learn how to help repair/repaint ships that come in or just help do tours or look after artifacts and stuff (tbh they could hire me just to type up any random data entry work they need done for any/all depts and I'd say yes to the job offer lol.) Unfortunately there's fairly significant roadblocks to me achieving any of these jobs rn, but I like to keep them in mind, just in case.

Also, if I can have one dream job that would be even more unlikely and is slightly TMI probably but: paid third for a rich couple. I show up, look nice, [redacted], make sure they're both good for the night, then go back home to Housemate (if it wouldn't be a night they'd want me to stay over, which I wouldn't be against but also. That would require some overtime pay lol.) The chances of this one are...so unlikely it's stupid funny, but a man's allowed to have dreams right lmao?

Tagging (if u guys wanna, no obligation if u don't wanna/have already been tagged/etc!!): @starmoonchildfromthebeamsabove, @freebooter4ever, @willowenigma, @turtleduck-tales, @mash1972, @mysteriouslybluepirate, @turtles-on-turts, @cononeillbreastingboobily, @treesofgreen, @dianetastesmetal, @arsenicflame, @gydima, @king-bussy, @p0ochy, @crvwly, and anyone else following me who wants to!

[sixty-silver-wishes]

so, do you all remember “clockman”

when a few years ago, a bunch of people came together on a forum and discussed an apparently lost animated short, and as the discussion went on, their recollections of the plot got creepier and weirder, until someone finally found the short and it was a lot more tame than people thought they remembered, although there were some key elements that they got right

an adaptation of “the cabinet of dr. caligari” should feel like those clockman forums. despite being one of the most famous films of all time, watching it almost feels like watching a piece of lost media- or rather, the half-remembered, half-imagined recollections of a piece of lost media that just get stranger the more you force yourself to think about it, and you can’t stop thinking about it, because the more you think about it, the more intriguing and alluring it all gets.

yes, you remember the weird sets and the sleepwalker and maybe something about an insane asylum… or were those just things from another film? Or a dream? Or an idea you had once? Or a book you read? No, you definitely remember there was a sleepwalker… right? You find the film and watch it again and feel a strange sense of vindication, because yes, you’re not misremembering things- there is a sleepwalker and an insane asylum- but you don’t remember the circus or the name of the woman or even what the main character looked like; in fact, you were so caught up in trying to remember everything you could, you forgot there even was a main character. and as you finally reach the end, you have the eerie feeling that you know exactly what this movie is all about, and it’s the way you’ve been thinking about it this whole time. It wants you to think about it like that.

I want an adaptation to feel, simply put, like it’s on the periphery of everything.

[kingsofeverything]

My dramione loving ass is definitely down for some famous/famous Tom Felton Emma Watson if you’re still willing to share! I hope it involves a skateboard board ride because that Instagram post STILL haunts me

omggggggggg ok so the plan does definitely include that and the famous jeep pic but i haven't written it. so far it's just pretty much a carbon copy of the interview where emma's like "oh yeah i had a crush"

funnyish story, but i was thinking of trying to combine this with my other famous/famous wip where harry's a dick lol but i haven't put much thought into it. anyway here it is!

Traffic in LA is maddening. Louis sighs as he finally pulls into his garage, exhausted from a long week on set. Adjusting to the drive is rough. Maybe Zayn was right and he should pay a driver so he can nap on the ride home. 

At least the weather’s nice. As he’s done every day since moving to California, Louis strips out of his clothes, pulls on a pair of trunks, and dives into the pool in his backyard. He swims laps until his arms and legs feel like noodles, then lifts himself up on the side of the pool and sits there catching his breath. After shaking some of the water from his hair, and tipping his head side to side to clear it from his ears, he climbs to his feet and wraps a towel around his waist. 

On the way to the shower, he checks his phone, finding a text from Niall telling him to watch Graham Norton—which he always records. As soon as he’s washed and dried and dressed again in his softest sweatpants, he turns on the television, but before the show can start, Niall calls again. 

Rolling his eyes, Louis answers, “Neil?”

“Lewis.” Niall scoffs and asks, “Skip ahead to Harry's bit.”

“What?”

“Graham Norton. Harry’s on. Skip ahead to his interview.”

“Harry?”

“Styles.”

���Oh!” Louis chuckles quietly, and fast forwards while he talks. “Thought you meant Prince Harry. Harry Styles. Haven’t seen him in— There he is.” Beautiful. He’s grown into his features and he’s cut his hair, but he’s still obviously Harry. 

“Right, mate. Talk to you later,” Niall says, and hangs up before Louis can say goodbye. 

Louis frowns at his phone, but turns up the volume to listen to Harry's interview.

“Does it bother you? Still being asked about the Super Series?”

Shaking his head, Harry replies, “No. Not at all, actually. I wouldn’t be here if not for those movies. And I know they’re… They're important to a lot of people in a lot of ways. They’re important to me. If, in twenty, fifty, a hundred years I’m remembered for playing a teenage superhero, I’d be thrilled. Happy to be remembered at all, actually.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.” Graham smirks and, “Just one more thing about it then. You’ve said that the Super Series was pivotal for you with regards to your sexuality. Is this because of the fans and the, erm… shipping?”

Louis sits back on his couch, watching as Harry laughs and shakes his head. They haven’t seen each other in years. After the movie series wrapped, they were all off doing their own thing—different movie projects, television shows, guest spots, magazines, charities. Liam even moved back to Wolverhampton and worked as a volunteer firefighter, though that was kept secret for the few months he did it, so none of the fans would become arsonists in an effort to meet their favorite superhero. But the boys all kept in touch, except for Harry. He disappeared completely from Louis’ life, and until a few years ago, he thought Harry just didn’t want to be connected to the movie series or his co-stars. Turns out he just didn’t want to be connected to Louis. 

“Nothing to do with shipping, no. I was very young when we first started, you know. But I think everyone remembers their first crush, don’t they? Only I’d never thought about it. We were a few weeks into filming and I quite suddenly had a crush on a boy.” The audience whoops and hollers and Harry frowns, but clears his expression immediately. “I didn’t know I was gay at the time, so it was a bit jarring. At first I thought I just wanted to be him, so I tried.”

“Oh. Been there, mate.” 

“Yeah. Bought myself a skateboard and helmet and knee pads and everything. Would’ve cut my hair like his, but it was in the contracts that we had to keep the same hairstyle.”

Louis leans forward, studying the telly as if that will help him understand what Harry is talking about. 

Graham Norton laughs. “A skateboarder? I’m sure the fans have probably figured this out already, but enlighten me.”

“Oh, sorry,” Harry says, covering his face with his hands. “I had a horrible crush on Louis Tomlinson. For the first few films actually. It was terrible.”

“Oh, no. Did Louis know you had this crush on him?”

“Oh, yeah. It was obvious. It was so obvious. Everyone knew. I asked him to teach me to skateboard. He was always so sweet—nothing like a villain in real life—and he did try to teach me, but I was hopeless.”

Louis sits there blinking at the screen. He remembers it then—little Harry, a Harry that was shorter than Louis was, with round cheeks and out of control hair stuffed under a helmet. Aside from tutors, the studio had to provide them all with things to do in their down time, and he had begged for a half-pipe. They’d settled with letting him skateboard in the back lot with a few small ramps as long as he promised to practically wrap himself in protective gear. He and Zayn spent most of their free time out there. And Harry joined them once or twice, pushing himself along on his brand new board while keeping one foot a half-inch off the ground. Louis tried to show him how to tick-tack, but as soon as Harry got both feet on the board, he panicked, jumped off, and that was that. He stopped coming around. But Harry hadn't had a crush on him. Or at least, it wasn’t as obvious as he seemed to think it was. Louis had no idea. Besides, they were children. 

He tries to tune in and listen to the rest of the interview. Harry talks passionately about his charity work and what he’s doing in the UK involving LGBTQ+ youth. But Louis’ mind keeps drifting back to the almost decade long working relationship they had while filming the Super Series, wondering when the crush faded, and when Harry decided that Louis wasn’t worth keeping around for even friendship, especially since he talks of their past so fondly. Finally, he gives up and turns the telly off, calling Niall again.

Niall doesn’t answer with a greeting, just says, “Harry and Louis sitting in a tree—”

“Shut up, Ni. I had no clue about any of that. Did you?”

“Nah. But it’s Harry. He flirted with everyone before he knew what flirting was. Think it’s just his personality.”

“Well, thanks for the heads up. I’m sure that’ll be a talking point when I’m on the Late Show next week.”

When he goes to New York for The Tonight Show, it’s the first thing Jimmy asks him about and all Louis can do is tell the truth. No, he didn’t know about Harry’s crush, but they were practically babies back then. All he remembers is being worried about his hair and his spots and whether he’d get any taller. 

He fields the question at all of the other interviews to promote his new show, and by the time James Cordon asks him about it, he’s tired of the question. Unlike the other repetitive talking points, this one starts to bother him and a part of him wants to respond to Cordon’s follow up about whether he and Harry have discussed it with the truth. Which is that they haven’t spoken in years. But he knows that would only lead to more drama and more questions and he’s not up for that. Thankfully, Late Late is the last stop on his short promo tour. 

On the way home in the back seat of the car he hired for the day, his phone rings. An unknown number. Of course, he dismisses the call, but they leave a voice message, and as soon as he sees the beginning of the transcript, he listens to it. 

“Heyyyy this is Harry Styles. Wanted to apologize for the trouble I caused you. Call me if you can.”

[metalhealth-willdriveyoumad]

It is just so bizarre how little anyone really seems to remember Cry_Wolf. Like, it was a bad movie, and I’m not saying it was anything better than it was. But it was an at best mid-tier mid-2000s “slasher”… with Jon Bon Jovi in it. And that’s really weird, right? Both in the fact that Jon Bon fucking Jovi agreed to be in a pretty poorly written mid-2000s slasher and also that pretty much no one remembers it or talks about it.

And I know that 2000s Bon Jovi was nowhere near as famous as they were in the 80s or, hell, even 90s, but they’d reached a kind of eternally famous by that point where most people, at least in the states, have definitely heard one of their songs and most of that group have also heard the name. Like, maybe they got pushed aside for a lot of that decade because of how… much everything was, but they never completely disappeared and a lot of that backseating has been reversed by this point.

And this movie had Jared Padalecki in it, and Supernatural fans are Supernatural fans. But even they’ve never pulled this thing back up en-masse as, like, an early performance cult-following thing.

So both of those, mixed with the fact that it had an advertising campaign so big that AOL was in on it and created a game that doesn’t exist any more through their service, just… More people should remember this movie.

But most people just… don’t. It has a few more people mentioning it on here, and a lot of that does seem to be gifsets of Jared’s character and stuff like that, but that’s it. I’m honestly scared to check Twitter, and there is almost fuck all on YouTube. Most videos on there are from at least 13 years ago and are just clips of the movie and things like that. The most recent one I can find is the Dead Meat podcast from 4-5 years ago, along with a few clip/compilation videos from the past 2 years. That’s it. Even adding Bon Jovi to the search doesn’t give you anything else. I can only find two interviews of the cast talking about it and they both seem like clips of a larger thing, and not in the way interviews are normally cut up.

Like, I’m not saying it’s earned a bigger following or anything. I just need to see someone else acknowledge it. It’s been so forgotten that there are only 10 works for it on Ao3. I know Cry_Wolf is four years older than the site, but it’s also a movie with Jared Padalecki and Jon Bon Jovi in it. I actually checked how many works they have, not characters just the actual human men, to compare. It’s 15,380 and 641 respectively. Those are some big-boy numbers and the movie only cracked double-digits this year. Six of the Cry_Wolf fics are by three people, and I think one of those was written as a sort of joke.

I feel like I’m losing my mind. Like, obviously this movie exists, there is at least some evidence on the internet and I’ve watched the real fucking deal. I didn’t even like the fucking movie, I just feel like I’m losing my mind. I need someone to acknowledge that this thing happened, and that almost everyone who knew of it before was not, in fact, switched out with a double who has no knowledge of Cry_Wolf a few years ago. Because that’s what it feels like!

Just… This movie almost doesn’t exist anymore. And that is fucking weird.

[lifeofzmzm]

Sex and The City

I came up with another TV series which I finished one week ago. I am having a hard time in my life right now. When I am depressed I watch something to not to think about my problem. Sex and the City really help my mood. I laugh and laugh then suddenly I was feeling better. So if you want to just relax and watch something you can go for it.

Actually, I watched the movies a few years ago and I never watch the TV series. So it was my first time. Maybe some of you really like it and watched it a few times. Also, I want to hear your perspective on the series. How is the Sex and the City for you? What do you like or dislike?

Let's go on the characters. We listen to or watch the series from Carrie's voice. She is the writer for the newspaper. This series is trying to show different perspectives of women. Women do not have to wait for their husbands and just raise their children. Women can live like men too. They have the right to have sex with whomever they want. In every episode, we see different social impositions on women. While I was watching it made me think how many of them I faced or seen it to happen to my friends or relatives. How sad that We are living in the 21st century but still people cannot live equally all over the World.

From the start, the most important relationship in the series was Carrie and Big. Eventually, they became together in the end. After a few break-ups and suddenly they understand that they we meant to be each other. What do you think about their relationship? I am really sad about Aidan. She cheated on him and I got really angry. They get back together then rejected him after proposing. Really how sad this is for him?

Let's continue with Miranda. All four of them are independent women but when it comes to Miranda, it becomes serious in my opinion. She has a perfect job. She bought a beautiful home. When she got pregnant she did not need a man to help her in her mind. And it's actually true we can raise our children by ourselves. For sure it will be hard but we can. In the end, she gets back together with Steve cuz she was in love with him. And they are a really good couple. I love them.

Who is next? Samantha? Yes, Samantha! I really like her. She is who she is. She is living exactly how she wants to be. Men can have sex with who they want but when women do that, people talk behind you that you're whore. She has faced this fact most of the episode. Most of my laughing was because of that woman. She was an important part of the series. I know that the Sex and the City TV series is being redrawn and Samantha is not in it. I am sad to hear that. And also people should stop redrawing old series again and again. It's not giving the same taste. In the end, Samantha had a real relationship with the young actor(thanks yo Samantha. she made him famous). Who loves her and was with her when she had cancer. So I am happy for her.

Sweat Charlotte! She was the one who want a perfect husband, children, and family. She tried so hard to be happy with her first husband. But she was right to divorce. She wanted to have a child it was her dream and she would have not given up her dream cuz of a man. It was good to watch how she handled the divorce and fall in love with her divorce lawyer. We judge people by how they look like. So she did this to Harry too. But in the end, she fall in love changed her religion, had a dog, and adopt a child. Harry really tried to do his best to make her happy. They were perfect couple for me.

That's it from my side. So tell me what do you think? And did you watch And Just Like That..? Did you love it without Samantha? What do you think about Big and Carrie? Which one is your perfect couple?

Have a wonderful day. See you..

ZmZm

[quirklessidiot]

Title: pretty eyes [short story] Pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn!reader [soulmate au; takes place eight years before the yuuji and sukuna fusion] Genre: josei, romance, fluff, comedy, and your normal tragic angst!

Summary: in which the right eye is mine and the left eye is yours and when we meet for the first time, you see your own eyes staring back at you. Warnings: language, blood, minor manga spoilers, mild ooc gojo and death

Notes:  can we all just sit down admire satoru? Like the eyes man, the attitude omg... Ah im so sorry in advance  if hes ooc here sksksk it is my first time to write about any jjk characters and I havent fully grasped them yet despite reading the manga anyways i wont be online next week and tomorrow so i decided to publish this ahead of time. ily all and again thank you for the love and support, it does mean a lot *bows down* see you all again when i’ve got time? jskskss i fucking hate college and online classes, satoru save me please soulmate au’s [not read in any particular order nor are they connected, they just share the same trope]  Pretty eyes [gojo vers.] ||  lasting blues [toji vers]

tragic soulmate au series || taglist 

“Pretty.” were the very first words you uttered in complete awe as you saw yourself in the mirror and no, this wasn’t directed to your physical appearance. It was directed to your left eye, the eye of your soulmate.

Contrasting to your normal boring color on the right, your soulmate’s eyes were ethereal and unreal. How could someone have such pretty eyes? It was completely surreal at that point that you refused to believe that someone with these eyes were actually human.

You placed one hand and gently caressed the left side of your face where the pretty eye rested, “You must be an angel.” you muttered, “Only angels have pretty eyes.”

Thus      like every child     you gave your soulmate a nickname, ‘pretty angel’  and every night before you slept, you’d wonder out loud how your pretty angel was doing, if they were nearby, or anything like that. You wonder what type of food they like, do they like to leave the window open for a cool wind or do they like their chocolate hot or iced.

Yet as you grew older, the pretty angel faded out into your thoughts. The pretty idea of soulmates and love disappeared like the story books you read as a child. The pretty blue eyes on your left is forgotten as life takes a toll on you.

They say death was inevitable, when your mother died in middle school, you watch as your father’s left eye turn to your mother’s color. You watched as he clenched her hand, like it was some last resort of plea. You watched him cry as he passed by the mirrors and you wondered, would it hurt like that too?

It baffles you how beautiful and cruel the soulmate system was.

How every time your father would stare at his own reflection, his left eye would be nothing but a reminder of your dead mother.

You let out a second meek cough in the quiet bookstore that night, the sounds of the car passing by were nothing but quiet noise to you as you immerse yourself in the literature book you were reading, your students would surely love this one.You let out another cough as you turn around to find a small space to read since standing for too long made you tired too quickly. 

You’re too enchanted by the words of the author that you don’t even notice the rather tall man in front of you.

You look up, ready to give a quiet apology but stop short when you notice how ethereal the stranger looked. Albeit he wore a pair of weird Lennon shades at this time of night, he reminded you very much of an angel with his snow white hair.

You don’t even notice how your left eye is returning back to it’s normal color, the stranger does though and it surely was odd to see his eyes on a stranger.

“Well,” the stranger has a shit-eating grin decorating his handsome features, he definitely looked like trouble for sure, “This is unexpected.”

He lowers his shades and your eyes immediately widen as you suddenly cup the left side of your face, you’d recognize those unique eyes anywhere, after all, you had those on your left eye since you were born, “Y-You.” you muttered, the shock momentarily eating you up.

“Yeah, me.” He grins, loving the sudden attention, “Wow, I was expecting something like fireworks or flowers to appear.” He suddenly teased, bending down to your level.

Now that you notice it, he was very, very tall.

“I…” You blink, trying to gain your composure, “Wow…”

“Did I pass your expectations?” it’s been a few minutes since you started talking and all he has been doing is teasing you. 

“You do look like an angel.” You complimented and his eyes widened at the rather out-of-place compliment, “Your eyes are very pretty, thanks for letting me borrow them for twenty-two years.”

Gojo Satoru thought he had the upper-hand, after all, you looked quite meek but when you said those compliments, he was sure that you were going to be the teasing one in this whole-soulmate thing.

So he tries to one up you.

“I’m Satoru Gojo but you can call me tonight.” He grinned, trying to tease you once again, the corny pick up line sounds suave but your blank expression says otherwise.

“I’m Y/N L/N and  think I should call you in the morning, it is quite late right now and I still have classes at eight am.” You mumbled, looking down at your watch, “How about you just walk me home, then?”

“Okay.” Satoru immediately raises his hands, signaling that he was giving up, “First off, you should be more hyper aware that I may be a serial killer.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you a serial killer?” you repeat, “That would be awfully disappointing if my soulmate was one since I’d immediately give you up on the police. I’m not interested in being in a Bonnie and Clyde type of thing and I think it’s too early for me to die.”

“You’re very upfront about these sorts of things.”

“Well, you’re very teasing for someone who just met their soulmate a few minutes ago.” you shrug, “So, are you going to walk me home or not?”

“Ah, bossy too. I love the attitude already.”

“We’re spending our whole lives together. You might as well get used to it.”

You’d think the idea of soulmates would scare you after the firsthand experience with your parents but curiosity always got the best of you and the white-haired man proved that maybe it would be different this time.

Throughout the few months you’ve spent with him, You’ve noticed that Gojo Satoru and you may be alike in some ways but in most ways, he was different. 

First, he was enigmatic. You’ve known the man for a couple of months now and you’ve been going out on dates but you don’t know much about him except that like you, he’s a teacher at a good school and he tends to be conceited when he talks about his personal skills as a teacher.

“...What are you doing?” Satoru asked, peeking from behind your shoulder as you type in the grades of your student for your class.

“I’m grading my students.” You muttered, it was after dinner at your place and he was lazing around your place, the sound of faint jazz music could be heard throughout your small space and the wafting smell of freshly baked brownies filled the room, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something since you're a teacher?”

Satoru quirks a brow as if you had said something odd then it seemed like realization had dawn upon him at that moment.

“Ah, I’m not doing much since my students are on break.”

“Didn’t you say that last time?”

Silence filled the room and Satoru breaks it off with his very famous ‘heh’ that made you inwardly roll your eyes and chunk the pillow that you’ve been hugging towards his direction, “Stop slacking off, you’re a teacher.” You scold him mildly, followed by a small cough.

“Ah, Y/N-chan. You’re so mean to me,” He frowned, handing you the mug filled with water, “...No fair.”

“You're a teacher and you’re slacking off.” You deadpanned, ignoring his sly ways of trying to get you in his arms, “How is that even fair?”

“My students can handle themselves so well that I don’t need to babysit them.” He hmphed,  arms crossed and head held up high in a rather arrogant manner. You could only only scoff back a reply at his rather haughty attitude but you’ve gotten used to it to the point where you just roll your eyes.

“You’re a very bad teacher, Satoru.” 

“Hey, I am considered one of the best and it’s an honor-”

You clicked your tongue and just pinched his cheek in reply to get him to stop drawling on about his achievements. You wondered if you dated a man child or something.

Second, despite his teasing nature and good looks, he’s a rather shy bean and has some insecurities about it too, maybe it was because there were moments where you couldn’t really understand your soulmate and his puzzling life. He didn’t tell and you didn’t want to pry because you technically both had your whole life to get around that subject.

Luckily, you seem to have found a remedy for moments like that.

“Satoru…” You called out to your soulmate who was staring at the nutrition content of the wafers on his hand, “Satoru!” 

“Oh, sorry. What were you talking about?” he finally snapped out of his daze and turned to you who was standing there, hand on your hip. The crispy wafers on his hand are long forgotten. 

Your soulmate is good looking, alright. If anyone were to pass by him they wouldn’t see the minor zilch of worry in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” You ask, walking closer to him, completely serious.

“...You aren’t going to leave me, right?” 

You raise a brow at the sudden question, wasn’t he too young to have some mid-life crisis? Was this because of the soulmate movie you watched late last night about the soulmate leaving their other half to rebel against the system and because of his partner’s family?

“Why would I leave you?”

He blinks once, then twice, the only sound that could be heard was the familiar music playing throughout the grocery store, it was as if no one was there during the mid-day. Satoru proceeds to look away, “I don’t know. What if you realize that you don’t like me as your soulmate and you followed what the dude did in the movie?” he started to mumble, mouth pressed on a straight line.

“Ah, the whole rich in-laws.” you blinked, “Don’t tell me you’re a son of some huge clan in japan that’s loaded and I’m going to be a disgrace to your family name or something?”

It came out as a joke at first, it really did and you were going to laugh but when you notice the straight face he has on, you realize it was anything but a joke.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, Oh.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking that question then?”

“What?” He almost half-yelled, eyes wide behind his usual shades that he seemed to wear a lot, “That doesn’t make sense!”

“Neither does your question, Satoru.” You frowned, massaging your temples, “I should be the one asking you that, are you going to leave me?”

“Of course not.” He sputters out.

“Then there goes my answer too.” You replied, huffing out as you grab the sweet wafers on his hand to put into the cart, “You’re very weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“No, you are.”

“You seriously asked me if I’d leave you because of your rich family in the middle of the day.” You deadpanned, inching closer to him to the point where your lips are brushing against his.

“This is unfair.” He huffed, suddenly turning red, “You’re attacking me in broad daylight.”

“Oh dear.” Your beguiling eyes, enjoying his rather embarrassed state, “This isn’t attacking, Satoru.”

Then you closed the distance between you two, his eyes seemed to widen behind his shades at your forward approach, clearly you guys never did PDA. You took this as an opportunity to lick his lower lip so you could slip your tongue in and as he starts getting into it and placing his hand to cup your ass, you pull away with a big smile on your lips, “That’s attacking.” you grinned.

Satoru seemed to have regained his senses quickly after that rather heated public make-out session, he placed his hand on top of his mouth and feigned embarrassment, “My, My, I didn’t think you’d enjoy those types of things in public.” he was back to his normal teasing self.

Well, that seemed to have worked very well.

“Mhm,” 

Yet unknown to you those thoughts still lingered in his head, it wasn’t just his family that he was worried about, it was also regarding his job as a jujutsu sorcerer       something he has yet to mention, he’s not even sure if you’d believe him       it’s a normal occurrence for people like him to die in this occupation and he’s scared that one day, you’ll see your left eye turning back to his eye color with no valid explanation.

Not only that but the amount of people who’d go after you to get to him, he clenched on the shopping cart tightly

“I’m tired.” You cut his thoughts short and Satoru turns to you, unlike him, you weren’t physically active so you tire easily, even joking around that you were a granny in a child’s body, “Can we sit down after this and get some gyudon?”

“Sure Y/N.” he grins, giving you a one-arm hug and kissing your temple.

Third, he’s terrible with kids, period, no questions asked. 

Your eyes narrowed to slits as he brought in one of his students named Megumi, the boy is quiet and compared to your giant and teasing soulmate, he’s serious. In fact he was more serious than the tiny pinky of the white-haired man.

“...Are you kidnapping a third grader?”

“He’s one of my students.”

“You don’t even know the first thing of looking after kids.” You pointed out, “And didn’t you mention that you teach high school students?”

“Well,” he drawled on, “It’s kind of a long story but he’s technically a genius.”

You let out a stifling sigh, “You’re impossible.” you mutter, bending down to the small boy’s level, “Would you like something to eat in compensation for him annoying you?”

The boy nods mutely.

“I wasn’t annoying him!” He corrects.

“He looks very annoyed standing next to you.”

“That’s literally what he looks like!”

You roll your eyes in reply and turn to the young boy, handing him a pastry that you had brought earlier. You  watched Megumi eat his pastry in front of the television that played some child-friendly show as you let out a soft cough and pour yourself some water

“Are you alright?” Satoru asks, resting his head on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” You replied, “Why’d you ask?”

“You’re looking quite pale these days.”

“Maybe it’s the allergy season, already.”  you nonchalantly replied, taking another gulp of water, “You’re terrible with kids, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m a high school teacher, Y/N.”

This connects you to your fourth observation, he’s nonchalant and easy going but he harbors a rather deep worry for you to the point where you wonder if he was really your soulmate or your mother incarnate. Three years into the whole soulmate thing with him, you still couldn’t help but think that he’s doting nature was quite adorable.

You feel like you’re coming down with a cold these days, your head has been throbbing and your cough is worsening. Satoru’s eyes are filled with nothing but worry as he handed you some medication. Your soulmate was now a mother hen and if it were different circumstances, you’d laugh it off.

“We should go to the doctor.” He nagged you once again.

“I’m literally going to sleep it off.” You hoarsely replied, “I’ll be fine, Satoru.”

“You literally sound like you smoked a pack with your voice, are you sure?”

“I am.” You glared, “Don’t sleep-”

Before you could even finish what you were saying, he flops right next to you in the bed, “-I literally told you to not sleep next to me.” you scolded him.

“A mere cold won’t phase me.”

“I swear to god, Gojo Satoru. I’ll kick you out.” He ignores your ministrations and snuggles his head on your neck, his warm breath tickling it, “You’re impossible.”

“You love me.”

“Sadly.”

“Hey.”

“I’m kidding.” you let out a quiet chuckle, looking down at your soulmate and running your hands through his white hair, “I love you very much, you idiot.”

“Hard same.”

“Never mind, I take it back.” you giggle.

And after a rather short playful banter between you two, you find yourself sleeping and snuggling on his long limbs. You think all is well, you really do. That was until you wake up later at three am in the morning with a loud coughing fit. Satoru immediately sits upright and opens your nightlight but what he sees next, scares him more than the curses he has ever encountered.

Your sheets are now stained in blood from the coughing fit that had just happened and you're completely taken aback too, completely breathless.

“Y-Y/N…” He gulps down, quickly taking the sheets away from you, “Let’s go to the hospital now, please?”

“...L/N-san, have you been getting coughing fits before this?” the doctor asks, looking up from your chart. Satoru watches you shake your head as you clench the paws of his jacket, the doctor takes off his glasses, “How about coughs that don’t seem to go away? Getting tired too easily?”

Satoru doesn’t like where this was going, he doesn’t like where this was going at all.

“Um, just some dry coughs and I’ve always been an inactive person.” You quietly replied, contrasting to your usual bright and teasing demeanor, you looked too tired this morning and Satoru just hopes it’s because he dragged you out of bed at four am to get yourself checked asap.

“Y/N-san, has any of your family members been diagnosed with lung cancer?”

The whole room is silent and you could almost hear a pin drop, Satoru feels his knuckles suddenly turn white, “I recalled my okaasan died because of that.” You replied silently and the doctor nods feverishly.

“...Y/N-san...It pains me to say this but the reason you’ve been experiencing this is because of the tumors located in your lungs.” Satoru feels his heart drop when he hears those words, “We have to do further tests to confirm-”

“Do it.” Satoru cuts the old doctor off, his hands are visibly shaking already, he hopes that this was just a misdiagnosis, that this doctor was just a bad one or better yet whatever excuse his mind could make up at that moment, “Do all the tests needed for Y/N, please.”

Fifth, he’s very supportive towards you and your impulsive decisions. If he could join you in it, he would but you usually decide against it.

It’s another quiet night for you as you sit across from your soulmate at the dinner table. You’ve grown awfully thin and your hair was starting to fall off due to the chemoradiation, this day marked the third month since you found out that you have lung cancer just like your mother. Surgery was apparently too risky so the safest option right now was this treatment. 

You don’t deny the anxiety eating you up every day, specifically the fear of death, you’re even more worried for Satoru since not only had he been paying for your treatment but he had opt to take care of you, saying that his job would be fine without him since you were going to get better soon anyways.

“Would you still love me if I shaved my hair?” You asked, your voice still quite hoarse.

“You kidding me? I’d still love you even if you turned into a roach.”

You immediately crinkle your nose in disgust, “That’s disgusting.”

“Honest reply.”

Truthfully, the man had been your rock these past three months. You knew how hard it was for him to be happy around you, how he had put on a brave front and remained positive saying that this was just going to be a rough couple of months and you’d be back in no time despite the bleak outlook.

It kept you sane amongst the tragedy.

“I wanna shave my hair.”

“Like right now?”

You nod, “Can we use your electric razor?”

“You want me.” he points to himself, “To cut your hair?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it.” You grinned.

And that’s how you ended up in your bathroom after dinner, Satoru’s shades on the side and his concentration directly on your scalp. You had literally told him that he just needed to do it the same way as he shaved his beard but he was still scared. Apparently, he had never shaved anyone’s hair before.

“...Okay, Y/N. Here goes…” He proclaimed, switching the razor on. As bits and pieces of your hair fall to the ground, you feel your cheeks getting wet and your shoulders tense, Satoru is quick to notice the switch of emotion and immediately turns the razor off before bending down in front of you, “Woah, woah… Y/N….”

“I-I…” Your lips are quivering as the tears fall faster when you see his pretty eyes staring back at yours, you try to let out a laugh but instead it comes out as a choke sob, “Sorry, this is stupid. I’m literally crying over fucking hair.”

“No, of course not…” He replies, enveloping you in a hug, “Of course not.”

Satoru feels you start to shake in his arms and he knows he should keep his emotions in check, he’s a sorcerer for crying out loud but seeing you break down for the first time in three months had him shaking too, you didn’t deserve all this, fuck, you didn’t deserve any of this at all!

“Would you like me to shave my hair so you’d feel a bit better?” he asks. After recovering from your breakdown, you had asked him to continue shaving your hair because you might as well be done with it.

“Please don’t.” You reply, wiping your tears away, “We’d look like eggs.”

“Cute eggs, you mean.” He corrects, teasing you and trying to cheer you up, this was all he could do and he hates it. 

He really hates it.

What good was the title of being the strongest when he couldn’t save you from all of this?

Lastly, if you hadn’t highlighted it enough. He has pretty eyes, contrasting to your dull and boring ones, you always loved how different his eyes are. Sometimes you wondered why he dared to hide them behind his crappy and overused Lennon shades.

“Can I see them?” 

Your room is dimly lit as Satoru sleeps next to you on the hospital bed, you were growing weaker and frailer by the day and you could see the toll it took on your soulmate. You were heavily reminded of your father who was sitting right next to your mother on her deathbed.

“See what?” He yawned.

“Your eyes.”

“You’re awfully in love with them, huh?” 

“I’ve always been in love with them from the moment I saw it in the mirror.”

Silence envelopes the room with your statement and as requested, he takes the shades off and now you’re greeted by the most beautiful blue eyes that you love to look at in the reflection since you were a child, “Pretty.” You muttered, raising your frail hands slowly to cup his face, “Pretty eyes.”

Satoru takes in a deep breath as he places his hand on top of yours, the silence is heavy. You both know what’s about to come in the next few days, you’re lucky if you even last a night. Yet he doesn’t want to talk about it, he shuts the topic off quickly when you try to even raise it.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, staring at you, “Pretty.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “I doubt it, I’m anything but pretty now.” your voice hoarse, making him lightly squeeze your hands, “Will you be bringing Megumi tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the brat said he saved enough money to get you your favorite pastry.”

“That’s good.” you blinked, “I’m tired.”

Satoru feels his shoulder tense at your words, they were so plain yet at the same time so heavy, “Should I call the doctor?” he asks. You shake your head and just snuggle on his chest.

“No,” You mumbled, inhaling his scent and basking on his presence, “I want your warmth next to me.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You know, you’ve always had prettier eyes.”

Yet you don’t reply and he feels your grip on his sweater lessen, he doesn’t even need to see his reflection to know that his left eye has returned back to your (e/c) ones.

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@airybnb​ ;  @hcn421​ ;  @shinhiromi​

[donnerpartyofone]

I can't stop thinking about VORTEX. It brought together so many of my own contemporary thoughts about death, including a specific death from a couple of years ago, and a death I learned of several hours after I watched the movie. I don't even know if this is worth typing up but sometimes my weird burst of AM exhibitionism helps me warm up for a day of reading and writing, so I don't know. We'll see how it goes.

I was recently commissioned to do this big piece on Dario Argento that is simultaneously a great opportunity--certainly it will enjoy more exposure than anything else I've done--and a scary thing to have to do, since you're speaking to a large body of established scholarship (plus a lot of passionate personal opinions) when you work on a subject this famous. I've been at it for a while now, but it took me a long time to realize that how deep the whole Argento thing ran for me. I don't know about you but my appreciation for the classics feels a little different than my appreciation for niche items that feel more uniquely personal, or even private. I mean I love the films of Dario Argento and, like a lot of people, my history of thinking seriously about genre cinema began (in part) with the discovery of this work that invites such serious consideration. At the same time, though, it's easy to think of the Argento filmography the way you might think about, I don't know what, the Egyptian pyramids, or Mount Fuji. Or even hamburgers or pizza. Something so big and ubiquitous that you love it as much as you almost take it for granted. When I was working on Michele Soavi last fall, that felt like a very personal thing to do; he has plenty of fans, but his movies are far less exposed, even less available for a long time, and not much of substance had been written about him. Working on Argento made me feel like I had to be very clever, even somewhat perverse, to find something special and fresh to say about him. It surprised me when, halfway through the project, a great weight suddenly landed on me, consuming me even in my sleep.

Maybe it should have been obvious that this would happen. I was a dyed in the wool horror lover from the moment my parents pressed play, much to their chagrin, but I didn't quite realize that there were people out there taking the genre seriously until I was all the way in college. There I met my best friend, who is slightly younger but who I consider a mentor due not only to her passion and erudition, but also because she exposed me to the whole cottage industry (more of an underground at the time) of thinkers and artists and conservationists that had grown up around horror. Together we even met and became close with someone who produced scholarly writing and had relationships with some of our heroes and programmed for a major festival, and who revealed to us a whole world of movies--and a certain way of thinking about them--that changed the course of our lives. Certainly my life, at least.

Unfortunately this person was not a good guy. I was barely old enough to drink when we met, still a virgin, still extremely naive, and also mentally unsound. I couldn't believe I was striking up a friendship with this brilliant professional in his 30s who simultaneously represented what I wanted to do with my life, and also what I thought I wanted in a boyfriend. Things went about as well as you might expect. I'll spare you (and myself) the details but my most glib version of events is that over the course of a few years, he cultivated a totally inappropriate relationship with me for the main purpose of torturing his actual girlfriend. I'm sure I wasn't alone, either, as he kept a roladex full of too-young women who he'd had inappropriate relationships with, just to maintain a steady stream of attention and drama. It's not an exaggeration to say he had total control of my mind at the time, it's a good thing he didn't want me to rob a bank or anything. Being involved with him tainted my other relationships and made it very hard to graduate from college. When the level of toxic ridiculousness became so extreme that even I couldn't miss it and I just stopped talking to him (it was abundantly clear by then that dialoging with him was not going to fix anything and maybe fixing things was actually a bad idea), he went out of his mind for a little while. It felt like I must have been the only person who had ever said no to him, which was gratifying. He made intermittent attempts to get me back in his harem for ten or fifteen years, without ever even implying that he might want to apologize for something. The last time I heard from him, he had found this blog somehow and left an anonymous message suggesting that maybe I accidentally lost his number and email address and here they are if I feel like chatting. I learned through the grapevine that he had recently ended a brief marriage to some other inappropriate young woman. A few months later I learned from Twitter that he suddenly died. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have tried to talk to him one last time, but I'm pretty sure I know exactly what that would have been like. I guess I feel like I "won" in some fucked up way.

Of course Argento was one of his main guys, and he was the first person to kind of teach me how people talk about Argento, which became a window on how to interpret a world of other movies that don't follow the usual rules. There was a personal angle on this topic, too: Among those of us who accept that horror should not be politically correct, there are those who use the genre as a lens through which to interrogate difficult and antisocial experiences, and those of us who use it as a justification for difficult and antisocial behavior, ala "These films show us a hyperbolic version of human nature, but it is human nature all the same." The guy in question made all of his relationships into a torture chamber, and if cornered he was happy to throw up his hands and say "The heart wants what it wants" or whatever, as if he couldn't possibly be held responsible for the dark mystery of his own actions. It made sense that his favorite director would be someone with a well-known history of combative relationships and not-entirely-professional behavior. (I have a rather large tattoo of Daria Niccolodi, whose substantial creative contributions to Argento's finest work are often unfairly reduced to the vaguery of "muse") But over time I managed not to worry about any of this. Eventually the monolithic idea of Argento became decoupled from my personal experiences, remaining only as an acceptable and useful part of my training. And of course, the films are still a source of great pleasure.

Still, I managed to have a vivid and unsettling dream as my deadline countdown began and I was deep into the Argento memoir (which I have to read in Italian for various reasons, something I can do a little bit with deep concentration and technological assistance). The dream amounted to a vivid fantasy of dramatically telling the guy off like I always should have, choosing my own life and loved ones over him. When I woke up I had one of those disturbing moments of remembering that someone is dead all over again. Even though the dream was positive and maybe even cathartic, I was profoundly unsettled. It made sense that an item like this would never be completely resolved, but I didn't expect it to come roaring back to life like that. I underestimated the effects of my doing this kind of writing in public for the first time, over the last year or two--the very thing that originally tied me to this guy. When he was still alive, anytime I went to a film event I would compulsively scan the room and make note of the nearest exits. If he were alive now, as I'm being published on some of his favorite subjects, I would be worrying about hearing from him somehow. Now that he's dead I almost feel like I missed out on something. A chance to prove myself as his peer or competitor; or if our friendship had survived, a chance to hear him congratulate me, or have him treat me like an equal; or...I don't really know what. I just feel very strange.

I decided to give my brain a little break from reading and writing, and made an extra credit assignment out of watching the recent Gaspar Noe movie VORTEX. I had just seen the new Argento documentary PANICO in which Noe discussed directing Argento in a leading role. It's easy to love or hate Noe, but I tend to stay on the fence with an eyebrow cocked; I think that if you let him offend you or impress you too much, you're sort of falling into his trap. I really enjoy I STAND ALONE, which is just too outrageous to be genuinely offensive, and I seem to recall liking ENTER THE VOID to whatever degree--but actually it occurs to me that the dead guy I'm eulogizing here claimed to have somehow inspired IRREVERSIBLE; supposedly Noe had asked him to find a bootleg of the rape-themed porno FORCED ENTRY, which Noe found "so fucking funny", and supposedly IRREVERSIBLE was born not long later. Whatever. Anyway. I was curious about Argento's performance and I'm generally curious about aging and grief on film, so I checked out VORTEX and I was pleasantly surprised by how thoughtful and cogent it was. Argento himself is really good. It's a satisfying film.

With that said: As the movie unspooled I felt that I was contending with it pretty well, and then at some point in the last act it hit me like a ton of bricks and I just couldn't stop crying. I was thinking about the future of my marriage, and about us dying. I thought about my dad dying. I thought about that stupid guy dying. I had the strange feeling that I had been confronted with the fact that Dario Argento is not a young man, he seems to have already given us the greatest art that he will ever make, and we may lose him at any moment. The strange, embarrassing grief and mourning of a celebrity will come for us sooner than we think. It's the same for many of the people whose art gave shape to my life. I don't know what to say about it.

Later that night, shortly before dinner, I found out about the suicide of a certain artist who reached his extreme conclusion in the aftermath of accusations of sexual misconduct. I don't want to name the artist because I don't want this post to turn into a discussion of that exact guy and his work and legacy and the exact nature of the allegations etc. I don't even understand it all very well. He was someone I never thought about that much, although I was abundantly aware of him. I had been away from the subculture to which he belongs for years, for purely external and personal reasons. I didn't know he was under fire. The claims against him seemed to describe a situation I would characterize (as I'm able to understand it anyway) as "kind of gross"--kind of sketchy, in kind of poor taste--but neither criminal nor scary. Which is of course just my hazy opinion on a situation I'm not involved in. But apparently things quickly ballooned into a highly public social media trial that destroyed many of his personal and professional relationships, and dramatically affected his income and future prospects. I do not know if these effects could be considered truly proportional to his indiscretions. I also do not know if his suicide could be considered a proportional response to his predicament. What I do know is that his lengthy suicide note was very well thought-out and carefully articulated (whether one thinks it was actually fair or decent is a different question), and from what I can see, everyone on the internet is picking the most extreme reaction they can possibly think of. Like every single person who is being vocal about this, on every side, is being pompous and awful. The one part-way reasoned response that I read had its own problem, I thought, which is that it was so entirely ideological. It was the ideology of the artist's presumed ethics against the ideology of the true ethics that should have reigned him in or led to remediation. It was the reduction of everything to something like game theory: a condition we all live in now, where everything we think and do is plugged into some vast academic switchboard that illuminates larger social and moral patterns. It's so fucking weird. I often think that dogma comes from the fact that most people aren't high-minded self-aware philosophers and they really do want and need guidelines that are helpfully established by others--but then the guidelines become exalted way above the bittersweet messiness of life that they were meant to help with, and suddenly it's as if there's no psychology, no emotional life, no human weakness, nothing to consider except whether us anonymous members of the teeming masses have followed the rules. We're left talking about contemporary human foibles the way people talk about the Civil War or something, some distant historical fact to convert into pure theory. Holding individuals accountable for their destructiveness, and understanding that no person or crime exists in a vacuum--those things are important. But our collective, public attempts to grapple with those things have produced some truly strange outcomes. I have been thinking about the artist's family continuously.

I worked through Easter weekend and went to church this morning. The Wednesday priest is a real literalist and not usually that inspiring, but he said something really uplifting today. Masses are typically focused on acknowledging one's faults, which is a necessary step in any course of self-improvement--and of course things can and have gone off the rails there because instead of thinking of humility and reconciliation as steps in a positive process, people slam on the brakes at step 1 and fetishize self-loathing and shame and punishment, which has all sorts of unfortunate social and political effects. But anyway, the readings were about how the Apostles behaved in the aftermath of the crucifixion, how they--the guys who basically thought Jesus was leading them to the White House and everything was going to be great--found the strength to pick themselves up again and find meaning and dignity in the things they would go on to do. And the priest invited everyone to think about a time they'd hit rock bottom, or something close to it, and to remember what were the personal qualities and abilities that enabled them to keep on living a decent life. I was so impressed by this, I thought of many answers right away. Then during the part of the mass where we're all supposed to "show each other a sign of peace" across the pews, one of the lectors--a very sweet spanish-speaking guy I don't really know--peaked around the column between us and waved at me. I guess he remembered where I was sitting even though he couldn't see me, and wanted to acknowledge me. Almost immediately I burst into tears.

I have now spent a lot of the time I should be working doing this exhibitionistic purging ritual instead. I hope that I will not suddenly think of something I left out in the middle of the day and get dragged off course again. Now I have to really cram so I can justify going to see LATE NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL later, before it leaves theaters. I figure if I spend time with the Lord, I gotta go pay a visit to the other guy, too. That is how one comes to understand things.

This is really good; necessarily upsetting, but never perverse (as one might fear). I happen to be reading the Argento memoir Fear, which is sort of breezy and not often surprising, but I found his brief chapter on losing his father almost unbearable. I was nearly sorry I read it. Dario doesn't permit a lot of intimate detail in general, which may reflect his control freak nature and his history of combative relationships, but what's certain is that his parent and producer Salvatore Argento was the one person who was there for him in every part of his life. I sort of have a dad like that, although we didn't make anything together except a life, and at this age I think a lot about losing him. I don't know what I think about it exactly, but it is on my mind. I guess I also think about the impending loss of certain artists.

There is something touching about the casting of Dario Argento, who may as well be a kind of artistic father to Gaspar Noe. He is very good in any case. It's hard not to think of this as some sort of response to Michael Haneke's AMOUR, though that film is a decade older and VORTEX exists for its own reasons. It's very useful, culturally, to have filmmakers who grapple effectively with end of life issues. It seems easier to talk about the tumult of life in progress.

And with that all said, please enjoy THE DEATH OF CRONENBERG, a moving collaboration between Caitlin Cronenberg and her famous father. Looks like her first feature HUMANE will be out for my birthday, can't wait.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

What If? (H.JS)

Warnings : mention of divorce 

Word Count : 1897

Synopsis : she had never seen jisung as anything more than just a friend. that is until her and jisung volunteered to do a couples photoshoot for their mutual friend. seeing the way he looked at her, the way they just seemed to match perfectly had her wondering, what if they were more than friends?

“He said my portfolio isn’t good enough. There isn’t enough variety.” Hyunjin whined as he plopped beside me on the couch. I could see the disappointment and exhaustion in his eyes when he looked at me. He had been working on his photography portfolio for months now, hoping to impress his professor.

           “Did he give you any ideas to help expand your portfolio?” I asked, running my fingers through his hair. It’s always helped calm him down, or that’s what he told me.

           “He wants me to try to do a couples photoshoot, since I do a lot of portrait shoots. But I don’t even know any couples!” I slowly began to massage his head as he moved to rest his head in my lap, his eyes closing as he did so.

           “Y/N and I will do it.” Jisung offered from the kitchen. Hyunjin’s eyes shot open, meeting mine immediately.

           “Is there something you two aren’t telling me?” He questioned, causing Jisung and I to burst into laughter.

           “No, but we can act like it front of the camera.” Jisung chuckled as he sat in the chair beside the couch.

           “Besides, most of the school thinks we’re dating anyway.” I joked. Ever since high school, people have thought Jisung and I were couple since we’ve always been so close. Jisung is quite introverted and nervous around a lot of people, and he’s told me before that I comfort him just by being beside him. Growing up, he always clung to me in one way or another, not that I ever minded.

           “Yeah, when I met you two in high school, I could have sworn you two were a couple.” Hyunjin added, sitting up on the couch. “But you two would really do a couples photoshoot for me?” We exchanged looks before nodded.

           “You’re our friend and this is important to you. Of course we’ll help.” I smiled.

           The three of us set out to find some nice shooting locations the next day. It was the perfect day for a photoshoot; the sun shining high in the sky. Every once in a while, Hyunjin would stop us and we’d take some pictures. Jisung and I looked up some references so we knew how to pose and make it look more realistic.

           There was a lot of longing stares and laughter at how ridiculous this felt. Hyunjin was completely focused as Jisung and I posed for him. This was his final project and was worth 50% of his grade, and I could tell it was stressing him out. We tried our best to look as in love as possible, trying to hold in our laughter until the picture was taken, but sometimes it was difficult.

           “Stop looking at me like that.” Jisung chuckled, hiding his face behind his hands. I reached out, taking one of his hands in mine and continued looking longingly into his eyes. “Yah!” I watched as his cheeks became a rosy colour.

           “Let me love you!” I yelled as he suddenly took off running. As I caught up to him, I jumped on his back, thinking it would tackle him to the ground, but I was surprised when he caught my legs in his hands and continued running with me on his back. “Yah Han Jisung!” I shrieked, begging him to drop me.

           “Didn’t think this one through, did you princess?” I cringed at the cliché nickname, lightly hitting the top of his head in protest. “Yah! Don’t hit me!”

           The three of us ended up at a cafe looking through the pictures Hyunjin took throughout the day, after he downloaded them to his laptop. Jisung would point at one he thought was really nice, asking to send them to him later. But I just stared, my heart suddenly picking up pace.

           I stared at the pictures, seeing the wide smiles on both our faces. How perfectly our hands seemed to fit together. Hyunjin even took pictures of us when we were just being ourselves, running around the park with me on his back. You couldn’t tell the difference between the pictures where we were acting like a couple and when we were just hanging out.

           In all the years I’ve known Jisung, I’ve never seen him as anything more than my best friend. But looking at these pictures is like looking into another reality where he’s my boyfriend, and I don’t mind it.

           Han Jisung has always been the person I turn to when I have news to share, good or bad. Through all the hard times and fights, he stuck by me, promising me he’d never leave. He’s the person that knows me better than I know myself. He knows exactly what I need without me asking for it. It’s like he can read my mind.

           There’s no denying that he’s handsome either. He has a smile that can light up a room. Whenever I’m having a bad day, his smile alone can brighten it, bringing a smile to my face as well. And he’s got the cutest cheeks that puff out when he shoves food in his face, much like a squirrel. It’s one of my favourite parts about him. Honestly, I love everything about him.

           There’s no doubt in my mind that I accidentally fell for my best friend. I fell for him a long time ago, but I refused to admit it. But looking at these pictures, my heart can’t deny it anymore. I’m in love with Han Jisung.

           “Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Jisung’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Do you not like the pictures? Are we not a cute couple?” He joked, his famous smile dancing across his lips. I couldn’t help but smile back.

           “We’re obviously the cutest! All the pictures are amazing, Jinnie.” Hyunjin smiled at us, the stress seeming to wash off him completely.

           “Honestly, you two would make a really cute couple. Look at this picture.” He showed us a picture he took just a bit ago when we got to the café. Jisung and I were standing in line, waiting to order. As per usual, Jisung had his arm draped across my shoulders, and I was holding his hand that was hanging off my shoulder, our fingers laced together. We were staring at each other, wide smiles on our faces. We weren’t even posing, that’s just how we’ve always been. “You are the happiest with each other.” Hyunjin added, but Jisung and I were both silent, realization hitting us both.

           “Wow.” Jisung breathed out, his eyes suddenly meeting mine. “I’m so handsome!” He exclaimed, a wide smile taking over his face. I let out a laugh, but I could feel my heart drop. It was obvious that I was the only one who fell.

           I eventually excused myself with the excuse of a project due in a couple days that I needed to finish. I put my earbuds in and took the long way home, overthinking every little thing between Jisung and I over the years. When did my feelings change?

           Was it the night my parents divorced and I couldn’t stop crying, wondering what went wrong? Jisung came over after I had called him and he heard I was crying. I told him not to, but he still showed up, drenched from the pouring rain, holding a bag of all my favourite snacks. He held me until my sobs faded and wiped away the drying tears.

           Maybe it was when we were partnered for a project in high school and we were in my room, laughing about something completely unrelated to the project. We stayed up late into the night, until my dad came upstairs, offering Jisung the spare room to sleep in, saying he already called his parents. Jisung was awake before me, waking me up with breakfast in bed and a shy smile.

           It could have been when I was stood up, and instead of just picking me up and allowing me to do the lonely walk of shame out of the fancy restaurant, he barged in, apologizing profusely for being late. I smiled when I saw him dressed in his best suit, his hair a mess from the obvious run he did to get there. He even paid despite the high price and his dwindling bank account.

           Or it could have been a mix of everything. Maybe my feelings were never platonic. I always seemed to laugh louder and smile more when he’s around.

           A short vibration from my phone pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the message from Hyunjin, seeing a couple pictures from today on my screen along with a short message. I don’t think you two are just friends.

           The pictures were ones he didn’t show us at the café, or at least not when I was there. The first one seemed to be from when we were just wandering around looking for a location to shoot. I was looking somewhere off camera, probably looking around for a place to shoot. But Jisung’s eyes were on me. His hands were in his pockets while a soft smile danced across his lips. The way he looked at me was the way guys in movies look at their lover. Eyes full of love and longing.

           The second picture was during one of the moments we were trying to act like a couple, but we couldn’t contain our laughter. His hands cupped my face, our eyes locked together in a sweet gaze. You could practically hear our laughter just by looking at the picture. And in both of our eyes was the same longing look Jisung gave me in the previous picture.

           The final picture was another from us acting like a couple. I had closed my eyes just like the couple in the reference picture, thinking Jisung did too. Our foreheads were touching, his hands cupping my face once again, and my hands resting on his chest. But his eyes weren’t closed. They were open, looking at me with such love that I could feel the butterflies erupt in my stomach.

           I stopped walking, just staring at the third picture, hope building up in my stomach. The lyrics of the song playing in my earbuds was background music to the sound of my heart pounding.

           Just then, Jisung’s contact picture popped up on screen as he called me. He always knew when I needed him. He knew me better than I knew myself. I should have known I couldn’t keep these feelings a secret from him. He could read me as easily as you can read your favourite book.

           “Turn around.” Was all he said before hanging up. Slowly, I listened to his directions, turning around, and seeing him standing just a few feet away. “You felt it too, didn’t you.” He said, neither one of us taking a step. Strangers just walked on by, not paying us any attention, as if they were extras in a drama we were starring in.

           “Yeah.” Was all I could say, and a smile formed on his face. “I think I always have.” I added, surprised he could hear me with how soft my voice was. He finally walked towards me, closing the short distance between us before cupping my face.

           “Me too.” He whispered before pressing his lips to mine in the first of many kisses we’d share.

[nereb-and-dungalef]

Y'know I realize I should probably just,,, have a masterpost explaining how I learned Russian in case anyone asks. Because "memorizing rock opera lyrics" isn't a lie but it's not the whole story so like. Here it is below the cut

Disclaimer Russian is the only language I've self-studied to a B2, so yeah not a lot of experience but maybe this'll still help someone somewhat. Hmu if you ever need Russian materials or anything mentioned here I am more than happy to help

Lemme start from before the beginning like

6 years ago (2016) I learned the Cyrillic alphabet to recognize the names of Silmarillion characters in fanart and realized that Finrod-Zong exists

4 years ago (2018) NAQT put out a list of Russian language short stories to read for Quizbowl. I went and read a fuckton of Gogol then Master and Margarita and Crime and Punishment landing myself in the Russian literature fandom

3 years ago (2019) I decided to solidly go at it after learning about the concept of a critical language and how speaking Russian gets you state department kudos

How I went about it:

Started making Anki cards with the list of 10000 most common Russian words. Got bored of it.

Realized I could make Anki cards from Phobs comics and started learning some absurdly niche shit. Accepted that if I was gonna be fluent in Russian I had to learn this absurdly niche shit at some point and should not torture myself over what was useful or not. 100% recommend

Did the same thing with Chekhov short stories and famous Master and Margarita quotes

Tried to get into Finrod but watched the 2010 version and didn't love it. Learned the first stanza of the Oath of the Sons of Fëanor anyway

Applied to the NSLI-Y program to study Russian abroad

Discovered Epidemia. Fëanor was the first song I memorized. Tried to speak Russian with a Ukrainian guest using words I'd learned from Fëanor. It was not pretty

Worked through the FSI fast course. 100% recommend, they have free textbooks for beginners in a metric fuckton of languages

Started using HelloTalk and making my language partners' text messages into Anki cards

Fucking everything was an Anki card, I made cards out of the airplane interface when I switched the language to Russian, so much random shit

Also shout-out to Drops, I used the free version and it fucking slapped

Had a Russian guest for a week who didn't speak English and we had a few rudimentary conversations

Discovered Последнее Испытание, memorized a few songs, started watching Evgeny Egorov concerts in class every day, went down the Russian musicals rabbit hole and started watching musicals constantly regardless of whether or not I understood anything

Started listening to music only in Russian, discovered shit like КиШ and Ария

Had a Russian dinner guest who I bonded with over Russian musicals. Decided PI lyrics were a perfectly valid way to communicate. Memorized some more

Met some Russian visitors who overestimated my Russian ability a ton and were super willing to speak with me in Russian and it was just such an ego boost, we bonded over bands and they recommended a bunch more 80s shit

Got rejected from NSLI-Y, coronavirus was declared pandemic, my phone deleted all my Anki cards, didn't do any Russian at all for like a month

Started taking italki lessons

Attended every possible virtual Russian concert (one of the plus sides of covid), would read the chat and repeat stuff other people said like "огонь!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥" "браво! супер!!! 👏👏👏👏" and "*машет фонариком*" it was an entire vibe I loved it

Made a goal to finish Master and Margarita by Halloween

Basically spent the rest of the year getting deeper into Russian musical subculture and reading random shit, started reading Russian fanfic and got a ficbook account, got like 30% of the way through M&M by Halloween and then basically got burned out and gave up on it and started jumping around reading the first chapters of different random Russian books instead

Throw in some movies and cartoons and stuff

Discovered the Lay of Leithian rock opera and became fucking obsessed

Translated it (not very well) and subtitled the soundtrack

Got accepted to NSLI-Y and decided to get my Russian As Good As Possible before the OPI, resumed Master and Margarita and some other stuff

OPI result was intermediate high (equivalent to B1)

Subbed the LoL stream with a better translation

Went to Moldova uwu

In the first month I read Eugene Onegin and The Little Prince in Russian and finished Master and Margarita

Read Crime and Punishment and another book the next month and became totally burned out re: reading

But it's ok bc I was still doing four hours of Russian class a day and I was there for like eight months so you kinda can't not learn

Made a noun case chart to stick in my phone case. Noun case phone case. That plus a formal education in grammar plus daily practice meant I actually learned noun cases

Kept a diary (kinda). Fun to look back and see progress

Read like two more books

I also tried to make friends with locals as much as possible

Started watching interviews with Russian musical stars, realized I could understand a fuckton and my Russian was like actually useful at this point

Got back home and got advanced mid on my OPI (B2 equivalent) which was kinda just,,, yeah what I was expecting. So yeah it's language plateau time for me yeehaw but at least my Russian is functional and I can say I speak it without feeling like an imposter

Uh yeah that's all I can remember

Random advice and stuff if you care:

I uh. Probably have ADHD and. It can work to your advantage if you jump between hyperfixations. This technique works especially well with languages because there's just so much out there and no difference between reading one thirty chapter book vs the first chapter of thirty different books. You don't have to complete a single goal or finish a single thing to the end, just find a handful of things to hyperfixate on and you're set (for me it was Tolkien, musicals, ruslit, and Soviet rock, there was enough variety that I always had something new to run through)

I pretty quickly embraced not understanding a word of Russian and made up a game called "foreigner describes the plot of a Russian musical without knowing a word of Russian" that I kinda miss now that I speak it. Some people swear by only consuming things you understand but it's such a struggle to seek it out and really was best for me to just follow my interests

Your brain has a Very good mechanism for understanding the difference between registers, so don't worry about over exposing yourself to antiquated/obscure material as long as you have other input. Your brain will sort the words into their place on its own, I promise you will not go around talking like Pushkin just bc all you read is Pushkin. Worst case scenario is: all words learned from Pushkin + brain understands these are not conversation words = brain prevents you from talking at all. But as long as you have at least like 10% conversational input your brain will go "oh I heard a Pushkin word in the wild! That means we can say it now!" and since putting a word into a new box is much easier than creating a new word entirely the Pushkin (or rock operas or whatever have you) will ultimately help a lot

If language advice is telling you to stop doing something you enjoy, disregard it. Better to do something inefficient that you like than nothing at all

Have fun have fun have fun. It's ok to sometimes be tired (that's when you're learning the most) but you should never be bored on purpose

Balance reading, listening, writing, and speaking. How you do that is up to you but basically if you get tired of one type of learning or feel like it's no longer helping, try out another and mix things up. All skills feed into each other so it's good to have at least a bit of a mix.

The first few months are the most grueling, there's not as much coasting involved and every day you have to basically choose to learn. So like, try to have some sort of habit at least at first. My personal technique with Czech was to just marathon it for a month until I could actually understand a few words of natural input so idk maybe that's a good idea but time will tell. Most important is to stick with it however you can

Controversial take: passive input (things you can consume while multi tasking that don't demand full attention) is hella important. Maybe you're not in the headspace to do flashcards but you can at least listen to a musical while cooking. Passive input will get you pretty dang far on low spoon days so it's a good thing to put your stat points into. It's nice to have a textbook for active studying bc it is technically more efficient, but a fuckton of music, fanfic, podcasts, and whatever else are a must have esp if you're busy or have executive dysfunction

If you don't force grammar on yourself you might actually start liking grammar

Understand that linguistic features exist ultimately for ease of communication and not to frustrate you. If you're morally opposed to a rule, figure out why it would be helpful instead of letting frustration get in your way

All this is suggestions and if you disagree with me please go with your own instincts bc you do ultimately know what's best for you, I'm not you so I can't actually tell you how to do this

Ask yourself "what do I think would help me most right now" then go do that. Yes right now. You can do this I believe in you.

Also if any of my Russian blorbos sounded appetizing to you hmu I'll give you a reading list

[marycecilyy]

Hey could you do headcanons for the mcl guys (or if not all of them castiel, armin, and kentin) when their S/O is a famous singer? Thank you❤

Oh god this turned out so longer than I expected huahahushaushu

First of all, these are too long to be headcanons, all three of them have more than 1k words each. Also, I changed a bit the prompt. It's more like "Candy has the dream of becoming a famous singer". The rest you'll see... I'll only say that I'm very proud of this one ;)

Castiel, Armin and Kentin with a Candy that wishes to be a famous singer

Castiel

Castiel wasn’t one to be friendly to new students, but he knew you weren’t like any other when you came to him and asked if Winged Skull was one of his favorite bands too. He was shocked to know that there was another person at Sweet Amoris who enjoyed the same bands as him. Yes, bands (in plural). After he answered that, yes, Winged Skull was his favorite band of all times, you started talking about your common interests and discovered that there were many.

He was a very closed off guy, but somehow you managed to break into his skull in a short time and, in a few months, you turned into best friends.

When Debrah came back and that whole situation happened, your fight with Castiel had a lot of impact over you. In your head, you had just lost your best friend forever. Fortunately. Lysander not only helped you recover from the blow and gave you energy to gather your friends and expose Debrah, but also helped you admit to yourself that, you did have feelings for Castiel.

Once she was unmasked and ran away like a coward, things quickly came back to normal. In less than one week, you had restored your reputation, your friends apologized for misjudging you, Castiel and you were once again friends. The only difference was that you knew that you were in love with him.

You didn’t tell him about your feelings right away, you decided to keep your friendship and focus a bit on your lifelong goal: become a music star. You started learning how to sing properly and doubled the days of your guitar lessons. Castiel even helped you get into the music club (they were full when you got into Sweet Amoris, but he found a way to enroll you).

You knew that your chances of actually becoming famous were pretty low, the market was difficult and depended a lot on having the right contacts. That was why, while you tried putting your name out there, your plan was to get a degree in music as soon as you finished high school. Antheros Academy offered a good education and was close, it was your best option.

As you channeled your energies towards your goal, Castiel started to acknowledge his own sentiment towards you. He liked to watch your focused face as you tuned your guitar and your singing voice earned a sweet accent all of the sudden. He always considered you a special girl, but, to his surprise, feelings were starting to develop inside his closed off chest.

That was why, as soon as he won those concert tickets on a raffle, he knew he’d take you there as your first date. Luckily for him, you accepted right away. Castiel had a feeling that night would be something else.

And it really was, as he kissed you, without even thinking it through, when the vocalist sung what he knew was your favorite tune. When you kissed him back, he wrapped his hands over your waist and lifted you up, feeling your warm lips open up for him.

The months that followed were full of bliss. With you and Castiel officially dating, the school had a lot to talk about. Amber pestered you quite a bunch of times, but that didn’t mess with your relationship at all. Everything was perfect, as it was supposed to be.

But that didn’t last long. Right after you finished high school, your dad had to move to another town because of his job and you had no choice but to go too. You were sure that your relationship would survive the distance, after all, you were in love. This situation would be worked out.

Castiel came to your new house a couple of times and you two called frequently, but in the end distance started to grow between the both of you… and it hurt. Knowing that Castiel was sad made you miserable and you decided to break up before it became unbearable.

You lost your count of how many nights you cried thinking about him.

4 years later.

You were zipping your jeans up when you heard a knock on your dressing room’s door. Who could it be? Your parents had already congratulated you over the phone, there was no one supposed to come that night. Did your manager schedule a press interview for after the show?

You put on your shirt and told whoever was on the other side to wait. When you finally opened the door, your jaw almost fell. You couldn’t believe he was there.

He looked exactly like in the magazines, (a bit less photoshopped, but that was to expect. You went through that as well and it sucked). His hair was shoulder-length and he wore a black shirt that showed off the tattoos up to the middle of his arm. He wore some light makeup, most on his skin, which you deduced his manager made him put on. Castiel looked like you expected him to after all those years, but one thing about him surprised you.

His eyes, although more mature and serious, had the same brightness as before.

"Are ya going to keep staring like that?” He asked and you noticed you had just been looking at him for a solid minute.

“Sorry. Come in.” You said and made space for him to enter the room. For your luck, there was nothing private to be seen, you had the habit of leaving your clothes and personal belongings messy and only cleaning up the second you had to go.

Castiel cleared his throat. An awkward silence hung between you. You hadn’t been alone with each other ever since the breakup. You two were two of the biggest stars of nowadays rock music, but you barely had any opportunity to talk. Not that you haven’t tried, it was the opposite. You avoided contact. Your fans knew you had dated in high school (you used to have pictures on your personal instagrams and fans were quick to dig over old accounts to find information about their idols), so they never expected a feat or any kind of collab. Everyone knew that you weren’t on best terms.

You remembered just a couple of days ago, when you were interviewed for one of those talk shows. The host made a lot of personal questions about Castiel and even asked if you would get back with him if you had the chance. You tried to avoid answering, but the public instantly read your unconscious signs: yes, you would.

That was why, you assumed, he was there. To make things clear. After all, because of you yours and his fans started shipping you two and got you on twitter’s trending topics. He probably was pissed. There was also a possibility of him wanting to take advantage of the situation, maybe propose a fake relationship? No, that wasn’t like him. Or was it? You barely knew him anymore.

“So… you probably guessed why I’m here. I saw your interview” You were right, then. “And I want to make things clear.” Ouch. You should prepare for the blow. “Look, we both know time has passed and we’re not the same as before. You broke up to avoid more suffering, and I get that. I really do.”

Castiel crossed his arms and glared at you. You looked back at him with fear, fear of knowing what his next words would be. “But...?” You asked.

“Tsk.” He huffed. This would be more difficult than he thought. “Look, little girl…” You felt a shiver run through your spine at the sound of the old nickname he gave you. You had always loved it, even though you didn’t say it out loud. After what felt like hours, he continued. “I don’t want to be cheesy, that’s not like me. So I’ll just say that if what all of the fans are theorizing is true.... If you do want to try again....”

Castiel took your hand and you jumped in surprise. He turned your palm to him and grabbed a pen from his back pocket. He wrote down a phone number on your hand and let go of it, capped the pen and turned around to go.

"That's my personal number. It’s pretty useful if you wanna call me without having to schedule an appointment with my manager.” You managed to laugh. You knew exactly how these things were annoying.

Inside, you were bursting with excitement. However, you answered playfully “Hm…. I’ll think about it, mr. Rockstar” Castiel chuckled and excused himself, saying that his manager would get pissed at him if he took too long. You smiled.

Maybe it was not over, after all.

Armin

When you told Armin, very early on your friendship, that your dream was to become a famous singer, he got so excited for you. He already knew that you played the guitar and was good at singing, but he had no idea that you wanted to make this your career path.

You couldn’t have chosen a better partner. Being the tech nerd that Armin was, he helped you a lot in recording your covers with the best quality possible considering the amateur camera and microphone you had.

However, the times that his presence most comforted you was when you showed him your new songs. He was always eager to see your composing progress and gave you pure honesty in his feedback, keeping in mind that he was no expert but still wanted to help you.

You always asked him for a way to return his favors, but he always said that it was his duty as your best friend to support you and that it was more than enough having you to talk about all his geek interests.

As time passed, you started to notice that you liked him way more as a friend. Without an idea of what to do, you asked Rosa and Alexy for advice. They were your closest friends apart from your crush (and you couldn’t run to him in that situation, duh)

After a dozen pro tips and date ideas from them, you decided to take Armin to the movies (basic, you knew, but couldn’t go wrong).

When you asked him if he was available Saturday night, you didn’t say properly “Hey, we’re going on a date”. Actually, you didn’t mention the word “date” at all, hoping that he would read between the lines.

And he did, because as soon as you sat and the film started, Armin grabbed your hand that was resting in the armrest and entwined your fingers. You couldn’t pay attention to what was going on screen at all and your attention was completely drawn from the movie when the boy grabbed your chin and brought your lips to his.

You only stopped kissing when the lights went on and the credits started scrolling.

“Hey…” You asked as soon as you two left the place, holding hands with him. “What was the movie about again?”

Armin laughed out loud. He teased you about it a lot before you made him confess that he didn’t know either.

A few days later, it was him who asked you out. You kept going on dates for the next week, all of them simple but interesting at the same time. However, you two weren’t dating. The whole school knew there was something going on between you two by the chuckles and timid kisses when you thought nobody saw them, but you didn’t make things official… yet. But that was about to change.

It was friday and you invited Armin over to “study” (he was sure that the afternoon would be spent between videogames and kisses, but if you wanted to call it a study session, it was okay for him).

As he comfortably sat on your bed as if it were his own, you told him to wait as you brought him some juice. When you came back, he was already grabbing his nintendo switch from his bag.

“What makes you think that we’re here to game?” You teased, handing him the glass.

“Come on, Candy, we both know that none of us are interested in learning orbital hybridization…”

“Maybe I am. I really need a good grade on those tests.” You approached him and held his jaw up so your foreheads touched. With a trailed voice, you continued. “Unless you have something more interesting to do in mind...”

Armin opened up that playful smile of his. “Oh, I do, actually.” In a quick movement that caught you off guard, he threw you in bed and started pampering you with kisses all over your face. You couldn’t stop laughing from how his hands tickled your belly, but you managed to stop him. “W-Wait, Armin!”

He looked at you, confused. “What?”

As you caught your breath, you explained that there was something you wanted to show him first. You got off the bed and went to grab your guitar that was hung up on the free wall of your bedroom.

“Did you compose a new song?” Armin deducted as you sat in front of him again, this time with your guitar in hands.

“You’ll see.” You tuned your instrument under his curious gaze. When you felt satisfied with the sound, you looked back at him. Armin didn’t miss the blush that coloured your cheeks. “I know you’d never do it, but I have to ask even so: promise you won’t laugh.”

You started playing the first chords of the song you had finished composing just a few days before. Usually, you composed simple songs that anyone could identify with, songs about friendship, inspiration, changing the world. You never wrote about your personal feelings. The notes never made you cry.

This song was special, though, because it was about him.

The day it hit you that you had feelings for him, you had the idea of writing random verses that could one day fit into a new song. After your first date, you felt so overwhelmed that, looking at the words, you decided to turn them into a song. You didn’t think it would turn into something so personal and emotional. Every note, every word, everything was clearly about him, that dorky geek you had fallen in love with.

Falling deeper every time

I can’t help but think, oh my

I’m through, but I don’t mind

Would you trade you 2D girls

For this hopeless lover

That just wants your heart?

I’ll just say that he got the message very clearly and, as soon as you finished playing, he practically jumped on you, kissing your lips with such tenderness that you almost teared up.

Of course, he asked you to be his girlfriend XD

Kentin

The first time he heard about your dream, he was still little Ken. It was one of your first days at Sweet Amoris and you two were eating cookies in the staircase. You were ranting about how sad you were that the music club was already full and you couldn’t join. Ken asked you the reason why you were so upset.

“Well… There weren’t those kind of classes in our old school. Learning how to play an instrument and sing, even during extra classes would be so cool! If I went well, maybe I’d be able to convince my dad to pay me for some private classes and then I’d be one step closer to my dream!”

“Your dream?” Ken muttered.

“Yeah! I want to become a famous singer in the future! I know that it’s impossible and even kinda silly, but-”

“No, Candy! It’s not silly at all!” Ken said. Learning more about you made him happy and he didn’t want you to think for even a second that your dream was worthless. “You shouldn't be ashamed of dreaming big. You’ll have a long, difficult path to walk through, but when you get there - and you have my word on that - I’ll be cheering for you!”

“Ken... “ You flashed your best smile at him. It meant a lot to you to have his support, he was a kind person and a very good friend (he did cross a few limits with his adoration for you, but you weren’t bothered by it). You liked being around him a lot.

-x-

“Kentin!” You threw yourself in his arms and gave him a tender kiss. “Good morning.”

Your boyfriend chuckled and held your hand, walking with you through the hallway. You talked about how your weekend had been and, between light smiles and sweet kisses, you thought of how quickly things changed between you two.

When he came back from military school, a lot of things had changed in him, including his nickname. You were facing a new person and it had been a challenge discovering Kentin and building a new relationship with him.

Even though he was a different person from before, one thing didn’t change at all and you noticed it clearly: he still liked you. Obviously he was no longer that guy who professed his feelings to everyone and followed you everywhere, he had found new ways to show you his love. You enjoyed that more mature version of him, but wished he had the opportunity to grow into a man without all the trauma he went through. You knew that most of his growth had been through suffering, and that upset you.

You didn’t know when, but somewhere into your friendship you started to grow feelings for him too. After some coaxing from Rosa and Alexy, you managed to ask him out on an official date.

The whole school already knew that Kentin was head over heels for you, but everyone was shocked to know that you loved him back as your relationship became official.

“Hey, love.”

“What?” You asked your boyfriend back as soon as you got in front of your lockers. You started looking for your books, checking that day’s classes.

“I really liked that video you posted on youtube yesterday. I never heard that song before, did you compose it yourself?”

The book you held in your hand fell to the ground. “What video?” You whispered, eyes wide.

“What do you mean, babe? That video of you singing and playing the guitar. You uploaded it yesterday night. I saw right away, you know I have my notifications turned on to all your videos. I got surprised that you decided to finally show your face and sing something of your own and- Candy? Is everything okay?”

Kentin noticed your face and got worried for you. You looked absolutely terrified.

“That video… How did you see it? I posted it as private”

“No, you didn't. It was public.” Kentin was starting to understand why you were so surprised. He put one hand on your back as you blushed and hid your face on his chest in embarrassment.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I did that! I’m so stupid! The first time I record something like that, I accidentally post it for everyone to see! Dumb, dumb Candy! Dang, now everyone’s gonna know I’m bad!”

“First of all.” Your boyfriend frowned, bringing you close to him. “You’re not dumb, you just made a mistake. And it’s okay, probably just a few people saw it. Last time I checked was before I went to sleep and it only had 20 views. But why are you so upset, Candy? Didn’t you tell me a few days ago that you were finally ready to show your face along with the covers. Did something happen to change your mind?”

“Well, I was not ready to show right away, especially not in a video that I looked terrible in. And it’s not just that. It was my first original song. I never showed it to anyone, what if it sucks?”

Kentin held your chin up and looked you in the eyes. “Candy, it doesn’t suck and you look great in the video!” You closed your eyes and snuggled close to him. “But I understand your concerns. Luckily, that can be solved if you delete the video. You’ll have other opportunities to get famous, and with better videos.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You reached for your phone and went to your youtube page. “Fu... No way…!”

Your hands trembled. Kentin was right, the video had few views (which was good). Only 50 people had seen it, but the problem wasn’t that. For your bad luck, one of those people had been Amber. You knew that because she had left three comments on your video.

AmberOfficial: lmaooooo

AmberOfficial: Thank you for the laughs. That’s hilarious

AmberOfficial: Just give up already, looser

“That girl....” Kentin grunted, looking at your phone screen. “I swear to you, Candy, I’ll make her regret this. I’ll-”

“You don’t need to, I’m fine.”

You untangled your arms from his torso and started walking away, trying your best to hide how upset you really were. Amber was right, your music sucked. You should give up on your dream of becoming a famous singer, not only because you were bad, but also because you could barely show your face to a few people without feeling like shit. You wouldn’t be able to deal with fame.

Kentin tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. He figured you needed some time alone. He could use that time to think of something to support you and get back at Amber.

-x-

You walked out of the bathroom, your eyes red and swollen from crying. You had already deleted the video, but you couldn’t stop feeling stupid for getting so upset by a few bad comments. And feeling stupid made you even more upset.

When you got to the hallway, it was empty due to classes having already started. You probably spent half an hour locked up, but at least no one would mess with you.

You went to the garden to get some fresh air and wait until the next class started. You sat at the bench, breathed in and finally calmed down a bit.

“Candy.”

You turned around, surprised to see your boyfriend. “Kentin! What are you doing here? Classes have already started.”

He just waved his hand in a “don’t worry about that” way and sat beside you. He kissed your cheek and took your hand, checking how you were. Seeing that you seemed to be more calm, he smiled lightly at you. “So… I talked to Armin. He already found out Amber’s password and he’ll hack into Amber’s youtube account. He’ll just mess with it for a bit, delete some videos and upload some random stuff. Nothing too bad, I promise, just some memes and rickrolls.”

“Hmm…” You muttered, thinking about what he said. It wasn’t right, for sure, but you didn’t feel like stopping them. You were still hurt. “Okay. Just promise you two won’t do something serious, okay?”

He agreed. You felt a bit better, but that wasn’t enough to lift your mood and Kentin knew that. That was why he also had something else prepared. "That 's not all. I did some quick search for places where you could record that music of yours with its deserved quality. You are a good composer, Candy, believe it. Your talent doesn’t have to stay hidden in a dark room with only you, a guitar and your cellphone recording it.”

“Kentin…”

“If you want to, I’ll help you rent a studio and record your song. That would be very useful for your portfolio. I know that’s expensive, but we can find ways to-” You cut him off with a kiss. He cared about you so much, to the point of skipping classes to think of ways to make you feel better. You loved your boyfriend so much…

Lucky. You felt lucky to have him.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me... “ You kissed his cheek, happy to have his support. That was more than enough at that moment, Amber’s words were far behind you. All that mattered was that you could go through this.

You had Kentin, and when you had him, you had your whole world holding you so you wouldn’t fall.

[thedaredevilsgirl]

Hi! Can you do one where Tom Holland and Reader are dating but they hit a bump in the road halfway through the relationship when the reader and Tom get into an argument over how the Reader is getting a bunch of hate from Toms fans, not to mention, she’s been stressed out bc Toms fans are coming to the ER,where she works as a Trauma Surgeon, and are causing chaos and Tom gets pissed at her saying “it’s not like it’s my fault but since you’re getting so angry you don’t have to worry about them anymore because we’re done”. The reader gets sad and goes to a close friend, Sebastian Stan, and they end up sleeping together. She finds out she’s pregnant and Tom calls her saying he didn’t mean what he said and they get back together, she tells Tom that she’s pregnant with Sebastians baby and he tells her that he won’t go anywhere, that he’s not mad, and that he wants to be with her for forever and that he’ll be by her side through it all. I’m sorry if this is confusing or super long :(

Broken Heart

Warning: Very angsty.

Word count:1152

A/N: I apologize for the delay in answering your ask dear and thank you for being patient.

Part 2

You are angry and sad.

You had to leave your job through the back door for fear that someone would stop you if you left through the main entrance, someone scratched your car, and you had to listen to a lecture from your boss because of the little commotion that was going on outside the hospital because of you.

As soon as you got into your car, you let the tears fall and a cry of agony leave your body, why did it have to be so hard? Couldn't you just love someone in peace? Would you have to put up with it for the rest of your life?

You still remembered the day you met Tom two years ago, a time when everything seemed so much easier.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You were working in pediatrics at the time. You walked into the office and saw a boy between your 12 or 13 years old with his arm in a cast, you smile at him kindly before speaking.

"Hi, I'm Y/N and you?"

"I'm Paddy" the redheaded boy replies returning the smile shyly.

"Hi Paddy, where are your parents?" He asks seeing that he was alone there.

"I came with my older brother, he went to the snack machine".

A man enters soon after with several packages of snacks in his hands.

"Paddy, I didn't know which one you would want so I brought all kinds" as soon as his gaze meets yours he drops all the packages on the floor "Sorry, I didn't know the doctor had already come in".

"It's okay" you say laughing.

"I'm Tom, his brother".

"I know who you are, I've seen a movie of you" you say smiling as you analyze Paddy's arm.

"So you're a fan" he tries to flirt.

"No, but I watched it with my best friend, you probably know him"

"Do I?" He asks suspiciously.

"Yes, Sebastian Stan"

"He's your best friend?"

"Yeah, quite a while actually, he said something about you a little star having two assistants and drinking boxed juice" You laugh as he blushes "don't worry, I know he was just joking"

"Yeah, he and Anthony love to make jokes with me, it's funny except when it makes me awkward around pretty girls" he flirts.

"Well Paddy your arm is almost fully healed, I think we can have it out by next week" you say smiling at Paddy.

"Thank you Dr.Y/N" the redhead smiles.

"Just Y/N please"

Paddy leaves the room first but Tom is still there looking at you in amazement for some reason.

"Since we have a friend in common, maybe you could meet me later for coffee, or dinner maybe" you chuckle at his attempt to take you out.

"Sorry Mr. Holland, but I don't go out with my patients"

"But I am not your patient, Paddy is, I am just the chaperone".

"You have a point, but anyway I think the rule applies to chaperones too" you smile.

But Tom didn't give up, he called Sebastian asking for her number and tried to win her over every day since he met her. He said he had found his soul mate as soon as he walked into that office. And everything was so easy with him, at least until now.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

Most of the relationship was kept secret, you both thought it was for the best, you liked your private life and Tom knew that some of his fans could be very aggressive and he wanted to protect you from all this, but a month ago pictures of Tom kissing you leaked in the media. It took less than five minutes for the hate messages to fill your Instagram, last week you had been followed by a paparazzi and after today it seemed like everything was really falling apart.

You saw Tom's car in front of the building where you lived and you are thankful that you at least had his no to comfort you at that moment.

"Hi" you say in a low voice as you walk into your house.

"Hi honey" he gets up to hug you "Hey what happened?" he asks when you start crying on his shoulder, he sits down next to you on the couch holding you in his arms.

"Your fans invaded my work today."

"What?" he asks to make sure you understand correctly.

"I'm surprised it's not already all over the gossip sites" you say angrily "Since lately they love to invade our privacy".

"Honey, you have to understand that the life of someone famous, I know it's terrible, but we have to learn to deal with it and get over it".

"Your fans scratched the word bitch on my car.

"They just love me too much," he replies.

"Your fans come into my work to curse me, they scratch my car, they call me a bitch" he stands up angrily "And you're saying they did it out of love? What kind of love is that?

"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?" He gets angry too.

"Dramatic?" You shout, "I almost got fired because of that little show of theirs, and I'm being dramatic?

"If you can't accept my fans, you can't accept me," he shouts.

"Oh my God, did you stop for a minute to listen to yourself? It has nothing to do with accepting them or accepting you, it's that a lot of them are hurting me" she says between tears "Do you think I like seeing people on the internet judging what I eat or wear, telling me I'm too fat and too ugly to be your girlfriend? I love you, I love you very much, but this," she says referring to her fans, "is going to destroy our relationship.

"Then maybe we shouldn't have a relationship" he says in a lower voice.

"What?" She asks startled.

"This is hurting you, so we should end it, so you won't have any more pain" he gets up from the couch and avoids looking at you.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I'm sorry Y/N, but yes, I am breaking up with you."

You sit in silence for a few minutes, absorbing his words, get up from the couch angrily and look at him.

"Since we're breaking up you better take this" he plucks the necklace from your neck and throws it in your face, it was a small gold heart necklace with his initials engraved on it, he had given it to you on their anniversary the same day he had said he loved her for the first time.

"Y/N..." He tries to say.

"Go away" he doesn't move "GO AWAY NOW."

He sighs, takes out your house keys that he had and leaves them on your desk before leaving your house.

You collapse as soon as he leaves, picking up the phone and dialing the number of the person you knew would support you unconditionally.

"Tom and I broke up" you speak as soon as he answers "Sebastian, I need you..."

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!!  As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -��

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

-

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

//

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

-

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

[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.

[mieohmy]

𝖪𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝖪𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝖬𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝖥𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾? | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖩𝖾𝗇𝗈

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, slight angst, friends-to-lovers, beginning relationship! au, slice of life! au, boyfriend! jeno

WC: 2.8k

NOTES: none

SUMMARY: in which jeno tries (and sadly fails) to kiss you five times, but he’ll never give up -no matter how oblivious you may seem to his advances.

     ⇒ part of the five days a week special.

#1. 

Jeno doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Sure, you can develop an attraction or those flutters and all, but there’s none of that immediate, deep connection bull that some people talk about. 

So, it’s perfectly fine for him to say that after being in a month-long relationship, he really likes you. 

And no, it wasn’t one of those immediate pulls when he first laid eyes on you. Well, perhaps he did harbor a secret attraction that lasted for a while before he finally gathered the courage to ask you out after a year of being friends, but even so, jeno liked you then and he likes you even more now. 

He likes being in a relationship with you- occasionally doing some of those couple things together, getting used to being with one another in a different, more intimate way -simply enjoying each other’s presence. 

It’s only been a month of dating after all. 

“A month?”

“...yeah?”

“And you’ve known them for how long?”

Jeno scratches his head, recalling back as far as he can. It surprises him how little he’s actually known you compared to how long he feels like he’s known you. “Maybe a year or so?”

Haechan raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Have you kissed yet?”

“What? Um...... no?”

He suddenly sits up, eyes boring into jeno. “You haven’t kissed yet? And you’ve known them for that long?”

Jeno frowns, annoyed at himself for actually feeling self-conscious at first. “I mean, I just said we started dating around a month ago.”

“Dude, it’s just kissing. If I were them, I’d be worried if you still hadn’t kissed me- like maybe wondering if there was some deeper reason you didn’t do it yet.”

“Don’t you want to, though?” Haechan adds after a second thought. 

Or maybe it wasn’t dumb to feel that way.  

Jeno fidgets in his seat. “Maybe? Y-yeah, I guess. I never really thought about it yet, we’re kinda just going at our own pace..”

He knows haechan means no harm, but after that day, he can’t help but get nervous whenever he sees you, overthinking every single thing you do- wondering if it’s a sign that you want him to kiss you. 

Do you really want to? 

Are you waiting for him to kiss you? 

It’s consuming and distracting- it’s not hard for you to catch on that something's obviously bothering jeno. 

“Is there something wrong?”

Jeno automatically shakes his head, quickly taking your hand in his as you walk down the street together. 

“Nah, I’m fine.”

You glance at your joined hands before looking back at jeno. “You sure?”

He internally starts to panic, hands beginning to get sweaty. Is this a sign? Should he take the chance? 

Jeno licks his lips nervously, stopping you in the middle of the sidewalk. 

He quickly makes up his mind- he’s gonna do it now. 

To be frank, jeno didn’t have any clue what he was doing, especially not when you were staring up at him expectantly after he stopped the both of you randomly. 

Letting his instincts take over, he hopes that you catch onto his body language- one of his arms hovering behind you to bring you closer, eyes slowly closing and face moving closer in an attempt to find their way to yours. 

But while trying so hard, he failed to notice that you really hadn’t caught onto his signals. 

And to add onto that, as jeno leans closer and closer, unaware of what was really going on, someone calls your name from some places away and seeing how you’re already not paying attention to jeno’s advances, you turn away from him at the sound, searching for the source of your name being shouted. 

Which left jeno to lean farther and farther, wondering as to why he hasn’t come into contact with anything yet, only to open his eyes too late and find the ground much closer than it should’ve been. And, as expected, he abruptly loses his balance and stumbles to the ground as you quickly turn back around and gasp in horror at the sight. 

“Oh my god, jeno. Are you okay?!?”

He groans, still on the ground. Yes, he was perfectly okay, but after falling on his face after failing to kiss you in public, maybe he was a little hurt. (and a little embarrassed.)

#2.

Your face is so close to his, this must mean something, right?

It wasn’t jeno’s fault that he tried to give his cats a bath and they freaked out (as per usual), but this time, they, unfortunately, got the face. 

You immediately brought a hand to cup over your mouth after witnessing the bright pink scratches on jeno’s pretty face when he showed up at your door, present with a sheepish eyesmile. 

You practically dragged him in, forcing him to sit on the toilet seat as you obtained a first-aid kit. 

His breath hitches as you hover over him, leaning closer to his face, eyebrows furrowed as you concentrate intently on cleaning the scratches. Silence fills the bathroom as jeno tries his best to stifle hisses and sounds of pain- his cats were certainly cute but deadly. 

As he watches you work, eventually, his eyes flick down to your lips, and it’s the only thing he can focus on in sight as your face is so close to his, unmoving. 

Alarms go off in his head- this is another golden opportunity. 

He braces himself, this time making sure he isn’t going to slip off the toilet seat or anything beforehand, internally preparing himself as he begins to close the distance once more. 

“I’m done!” You say in such a satisfied and bright tone, it surprises jeno as he almost flinches and his eyes fly open, staring at you and trying his best to keep his mouth from dropping open. 

You stare back with a confused albeit cute grin, eyes wide and questioning at his sudden strange act. 

You must’ve not noticed, he thinks mournfully, watching as you pack up the first aid kit, unbothered. 

Jeno unconsciously sighs, following you out of the bathroom with a slight pout. Attempt number two, fail...

#3. 

After seeing how the last two attempts went, jeno contemplates just straight up asking if he could kiss you. 

If you weren’t able to catch on the last two times, maybe just simply informing you beforehand would be easier, right?

Famous last words. 

But it proves to be harder than he thinks. 

Much harder.

Throughout the whole time at your place together, eating dinner and watching movies, jeno just can’t do it. Every time there’s an open chance for him to ask you, he constantly chickens out. 

He watches you eat your food-not in a creepy way- smiling when he notices some food at the corner of your mouth. 

This is it. After helping you, hopefully, you get the memo, and then jeno can ask you -and it’s all smooth sailing from there. 

He finishes chewing before speaking up, taking his chance. “Y/n, you have something on your lips.”

You blink, trying to hide your embarrassment by quickly searching for your napkin. 

This is it. 

Jeno takes his own napkin, reaching over the table to help you. You freeze as he helps wipe your mouth, touch soft and gentle. 

Jeno pauses after finishing, looking into your eyes hesitantly. “C-can I ki-“

The sound of your phone ringing cuts through the air, and jeno can only stand there, dumbfounded, as you excuse yourself with an apologetic smile. 

He doesn’t even move an inch from his position, still hovered over the table towards your seat where you were sitting just a few minutes earlier until someone just had to call you and interrupt the moment. 

After finishing, you make your way back towards him, patting the top of his head, to which he unfreezes at. 

“Sorry jen, what were you about to say?”

He swallows, avoiding eye contact. It was too late, the moment was over. 

“Nothing, it wasn't important.”

If anything, he feels more embarrassed and more anxious afterward at how he failed to ask you such a simple question. 

After dinner, jeno joins you on the couch as you scroll through the list of movies and shows to watch tonight. 

“Hmm... what do you think?”

Jeno doesn’t reply, lost in his thoughts and still working up the confidence to ask you four mere words- 

can i kiss you? 

“Jeno?” You repeat his name several times until his head shoots towards you, eyes wide. “Yes? Did you say something?”

“Yeah, uh, is there a specific movie or show you wanted to watch?”

Jeno quickly shakes his head, offering you to choose for tonight. 

He bites his lip when you eventually find and start one, scooting closer to him and enjoying his warmth. But you don’t say anything, and jeno’s left alone to lose himself in his thoughts. 

And throughout the whole movie, his mind is far away, still trying to find the perfect moment to ask. But it doesn’t seem like there’ll ever be a perfect moment- not when you’re so focused on the movie and oblivious to your surroundings. 

When it seems like there’s finally a break part in the movie, jeno clears his throat. 

“H-hey, y/n...”

“Yeah?” You murmur distractedly. 

“I- uh, well,” he stutters. 

You finally turn, attention fully on jeno now. 

And he panics. “Uh-yeah, I need to use the restroom...”

He wants to punch himself as soon as those words leave his mouth. 

You cock an eyebrow, amused. “Okay? You can just go, you know, there’s no need to tell me.”

He shyly nods, face ablaze while hoping you can’t tell in the darkness of the room as he makes his escape.

Why is this proving to be so much harder than he thought? 

He gives himself a quick pep talk in the bathroom before coming out and returning to your side, letting out a sigh in the process. 

Meanwhile, as much as you were indeed invested in the movie, you didn’t fail to take note of jeno’s behavior. 

His body language and actions made it obvious that he wasn’t paying attention to the movie, leaving you to unconsciously pout. 

Jeno falters at the sight of your puckered lips- is this another one of your tricks or?

He’s obviously paying no mind to the movie- he had absolutely no clue what was even going on- but he goes for it, mouth opening to ask one last time, but you beat him before he can say anything. 

“Are you okay, Jen?”

He coughs awkwardly. “Huh? What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine?”

You glance from the animated screen and back to jeno. “I mean... it doesn’t look like you’re paying attention to the movie. Are you not enjoying it?”

Jeno abruptly protests, deciding to give up on the kiss for tonight and just focus on enjoying the time he has with you today. But he still can’t help but feel a sense of defeat and failure, like he wasn’t able to meet your or his own expectations. 

You frown, obliviously shaking your head with a sigh. Your jeno, too much of a sweetheart to just tell you the truth that he doesn’t like the movie..... 

#4. 

It’s been a while since jeno’s tried to do anything, although the thought has never left his mind. 

It’s always in the back of his head, getting more and more prevalent as time goes on with you. 

If you never mentioned anything about it, that must mean you don’t mind not having kissed yet, right? 

Right?

He shakes his head, trying to clear it of any thoughts and focus on cooking with you- which you randomly suggested one day for him to come over and help. 

You easily welcome him into your apartment, and jeno’s eyes automatically land on the couch in the living room- where his attempts to kiss you miserably failed just a few weeks ago. 

He swerves away, urging a startled you to the kitchen to start cooking.

“What are we making?”

You hum, tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. “I dunno, anything works.”

Jeno bites back a laugh, staring at you with an endeared gaze. “So you invited me over here not knowing what we were gonna eat?”

You shrug sheepishly, taking out matching aprons for you both to put on. “Well, you know I wanted to get better at cooking, plus I just missed you too so...”

He lets himself laugh at that, quickly helping you tie the back of your apron. He hesitates while finishing the knot, should he do it now? 

No, jeno thinks, be patient. It’ll happen when it happens. 

You decide on pasta- a simple recipe that you could easily learn and somehow had all the ingredients to in a non-cooking household. 

“Teach me your ways, master chef,” you joke.

He boops your nose with his finger, playfully guiding you to the sink. “Alright, my first task for my first apprentice.”

He places an onion on the table in front of you. “Wash and cut an onion.”

You nod determinedly, exhaling through your nose. “Okay, I got this.” 

He smiles adoringly, letting you start as he works on boiling the noodles. 

But he didn’t expect for you to call out, “I’m done!” a mere three minutes later, a satisfied look on your face. Jeno raises his eyebrows, making his way over to you. “You’re fast.”

You stand by your work with a proud grin. 

Jeno blinks. 

And you wait, slowly becoming more and more confused as jeno doesn’t say anything. 

“Y/n,” he slowly starts. 

“Yeah?”

“Did you not peel the onion?”

Your mouth drops to a surprised ‘o’. 

Jeno tries his hardest to hold it in, looking down at your disheveled mess of onion slices and biting his lip. 

But he can’t.

He bursts out laughing, instinctively bringing you closer to him as he wipes away his tears- from laughing or the onions he isn’t sure.

You stutter in his hold, trying to come up with a reasonable response, but eventually giving up and joining him in his flurry of laughter. 

He glances at you in the heat of the moment and the sight of you laughing so carefree, eyes sparkling, makes his breath hitch. 

And all of a sudden, he gets the urge to kiss you. 

And not fail this time. 

He gulps, pulling you even closer to him by the edges of your apron.

And your laughter slowly dies down as you realize the change in the atmosphere, jeno staring at you with a much more intense gaze than before. 

He leans in, slowly but with much more confidence now that your attention was actually on him. 

Your eyes widen before involuntarily closing, heart pounding. 

This is it, he thinks, slowly but surely closing the space between you two. 

And jeno feels the ghost of your lips on his-

before the doorbell rings. 

You jump back, startled and breathless, while jeno freezes, utterly astounded and speechless. 

He curses the delivery man, ringing on your doorbell with the wrong package for the wrong address. 

Needless to say, jeno went home defeated without a kiss that night. 

#5. 

Jeno has given up. 

So many failed attempts- it’s like the universe simply doesn’t want him to kiss you. 

The whole night when you’re all out together with your friends, he never leaves your side. 

And his gaze never leaves your lips, either. 

He tries to be discreet, hoping that you don’t notice, and jeno believes he has succeeded when by the end of the night, where everyone’s saying their goodbyes and leaving, you haven’t mentioned a single thing. 

When just about everyone’s gone, you pull Jeno back, causing him to let out a startled noise, watching you with a confused face. 

And then you plant both of your hands on either side of his cheek. 

Jeno’s insides start to churn, mind whirling. What’s going on? 

And his answer is in the form of a soft kiss on his lips.

You pull back a few seconds later, a determined look on his face.

“I know you’ve been trying to kiss me.”

His mouth drops open. 

“And if you wanted to do it so bad, you should’ve just said so.”

His brain malfunctions, trying to find the right words while also processing what just happened. 

“well... can we do it again then?”

✢

No, jeno still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. 

But whenever he lays his eyes on you- from the first time he met you as friends, until a year later in a happy relationship- jeno can say that without a doubt, he loves you. 

taglist: @skrtbabe @bluejaem @lanadreamie​ 

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[princehrry-writings]

Friends Don't

ahhhh, i hope you love it!! please send in requests!! let me know what you think, and if you like it maybe share with your friends?

wordcount: 3226

warnings: mentions of alcohol, maybe swearing? tbh I don't think anything else.

we love a good bff's to lovers :)

All Harry did was shrug him off and say his final goodbyes- heading back out to his car that he had been in not more than 20 minutes ago when he arrived to have dinner with Jeff, and followed the gravitational pull that always seemed to lead back to you.

or

Harry is your best friend that you're in love with, but neither of you will admit it.

.

.

.

.

“What are you doing here, it’s the middle of the fucking night H?” It was cold, too cold to stand there on your front porch in nothing but a big teeshirt and shorts. The smile on his face was cheeky, but when was it not with him.

“Just wanted to stop by, that’s all. Got bored…” He said and you sighed, shaking away the blush that wanted to creep up your neck. His hair was a bit messy and his clothes were wrinkled, like he’d been tossing and turning in them. He made his way into your house after you stepped aside to let him in and made himself comfortable like he always does when he comes over.

With a huff, he collapsed on your living room couch, you following in suit and cuddling into his side. It wasn’t uncommon for you to find yourself here in this position. The middle of the night was usually a time when Harry’s mind ran wild, you weren’t much different. Usually, it was the man himself plaguing your mind, but you’d never tell him that.

It’s ok, he’d never tell you that you were the reason he kept himself up at night either.

“Wanna go lay down?” You asked quietly, fidgeting with the rings on your best friend’s hand as the other tangled itself in your hair just the way he knew would relax you. A soft hum arose from him and you nodded, reluctantly separating your bodies and treading up to your room. Harry felt like he spent more nights here than at his own house.

-

Harry’s phone buzzed beside him, pulling his attention away from whatever Jeff had been talking about for the last 5 minutes. A message from you sat there on his screen asking if he wanted to come over and have a movie night and order take out. Another message popped up a few seconds later adding “I have wine 😏” and a smile crept onto his cheeks, something he was never able to control when it came to you. There wasn’t much you couldn’t get him to do, it was something about you that fascinated him. He felt safe with you, safe enough to do anything. He didn’t have to worry about something being leaked to the press or worse- being made fun of by you. He quickly typed back a reply saying he’d be there in 20 minutes and to call in the order to your favorite place not far from your house so he could pick it up on the way. Jeff finally stopped talking as Harry caught his attention, telling him he had to go.

“Wait what? We just got here, we haven’t even ordered yet! Where are you going?” Harry shrugged and said something came up and he had to go but the look in his eyes told Jeff everything he needed to know.

“So you’re leaving me to go see the girl you claim you’re not in love with?” A blush crept up Harry’s neck and onto his face, turning so the man couldn’t see it. With a shake of his head and a cough to clear the lump that had gathered in his throat, he turned back to his friend sitting in front of him.

“She’s my best friend, m’not in love with her!” He defended, wondering which one of them he was trying to convince more and pushing that thought to the back of his mind. The sound of Jeff scoffing, he swore, could be heard from outside the restaurant they were at right now, and the pointed look being directed at Harry was enough to make him want to shrink back into himself just to get away from it.

“H… I hate to break it to you, but friends don’t cancel other plans just to see each other…” Somewhere in his mind, Harry knew that- but that was a thought for another time. Right now, he was just focusing on making it to your house with your guys’ favorite takeout food and cuddling up to you on your couch or in your bed to watch movies he wouldn’t be paying any attention to in favor of watching your eyes light up during your favorite scenes, and drinking what some would say is a little too much wine for a Thursday evening. The two of you didn’t have to worry about that part though- you always had Fridays off.

All Harry did was shrug him off and say his final goodbyes- heading back out to his car that he had been in not more than 20 minutes ago when he arrived to have dinner with Jeff, and followed the gravitational pull that always seemed to lead back to you.

-

Loud music and large crowds were something Harry was accustomed to, he’d spent the majority of his teen years and all of his adult life around them, in the middle of them. What he wasn’t used to was you being there with him. He’d convinced you to have a night out with him and a friend that was in town and you hesitantly said yes. The two of you didn’t go out in public together very often, and when you did it was always very meticulous. You showed up separately, acted like you didn’t know each other, and tried to stay away from as many prying eyes as you possibly could. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want to be seen with you or even that you didn’t want to be seen with him- it was just better for the both of you that your friendship stay out of the public eye. It was better for your job and it made things easier in your personal life as well. The last thing Harry wanted was for the media to start making rumors and for his fans to start ripping you apart like they had been known to do in the past.

The club you guys were at was very exclusive, and you had followed the same protocol of showing up at different times as to not be seen walking in together. You had sworn you’d never been around so many A-list celebrities in your entire life and you were starting to feel a little overwhelmed at all the people you knew of in the room, all the faces you’d seen so many times before only through a screen. You didn’t have much time to panic as Harry was whisking you off to meet the friend he’d told you about that was here. A very familiar Irish accent piqued your ears as you got closer to the bar near the back of the crowded room, a head of brown hair, that in your mind should still be blond, peaking out amongst the people surrounding him. Of course, out of all the friends he has, it had to be Niall Horan he was talking about. Someone that you were very familiar with. Niall had always been your favorite in One Direction and you made sure you reminded Harry of that every chance, uh sorry, every chonce you got.

Memories of the two of you sitting in your car as a 1D song came on the radio and you shushing him as Niall started singing- reminding him that this was “the best part” and turning it up louder than it really needed to be flashed through your mind and you tried your hardest to fight the blush creeping up your neck as you stopped in your tracks, halting both of you from going any further. You shot him a glare and it took everything in you not to slap that smirk off of his face.

“Really? And you didn’t even warn me? What the fuck H?” If your heart wasn’t racing before, it certainly was now at the thought of meeting Niall Horan. You didn’t even freakout this hard when you met Harry for the first time. That encounter seemed like it was yesterday and 100 years ago all at the same time.

“M’a little hurt you didn’t freak out over me like this, love! What does he have that I don’t?” Faking offense, his hand coming up to hold his chest as if you’d actually hurt him. You scoffed and pushed his shoulder away, fully prepared to run and hide in the bathroom the rest of the night. You freaked out over Harry in a different way. One that you didn’t let him ever see. And sure- maybe you went home after the first time you met and screamed your head off to your best friend in your hometown- but he didn’t need to ever know that. But now here you were, 20 feet away from Niall fucking Horan, your teenage celebrity crush, and you didn’t know if you were gonna make it to see tomorrow.

Why you were so freaked out about meeting him you weren’t quite sure. Maybe it was that he was one of Harry’s closest and oldest friends and you wanted him to like you (for reasons you weren’t ready to admit to yourself, let alone Harry) or maybe it was merely the fact that you spent the entirety of your high school career with pictures of him on your wall and on the front of your school binder.

“I’m gonna die tonight…” You muttered to yourself as Harry began dragging you behind him once again, over to the open bar stools next to Niall.

“Oi there he is!” The Irishman turns to see the pair of you, pulling Harry into a long overdue hug.

“Hey mate,” The smile on Harry’s face is one you don’t get to see often as it only comes out when he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. You knew seeing Niall was something he’d been looking forward to, although you didn’t quite know it was Niall until less than 2 minutes ago. Sometimes life gets to be a little too much and having someone that gets it like Niall does is important. You could only offer so much as you had no idea what it was like to walk in his shoes.

“You must be the famous Y/N this guy never stops yappin’ about!” The smile is replaced by a flush you’ve seen plenty of times before. He almost looks like a dog with his tail between his legs as he flicks the brunets forehead.

“Aye, no need for that,”

“I guess that’s me!” You say with a smile, expecting for Niall to extend his hand. He, instead, pulls you into a bone crushing hug that you know 14 year old you would have died for, but current you can’t help but wish it was Harry’s arms wrapped tightly around your body like this. He hugs you like this all the time, if not tighter, but it doesn’t seem like you could ever get enough of the man with green eyes standing next to you with that lopsided smile sewn onto his face.

“M’ Niall, it’s nice to meet you!”

---

Ok. Maybe those last two shots of tequila Niall had talked you into weren’t the best idea. Maybe, dragging Harry out to the dance floor when you were just drunk enough to tell him anything wasn’t the best idea. Maybe you didn’t really care right now because the feeling of his hands on your body in a way that wouldn’t be considered platonic was too good to do anything about.

Drunk you has been known to almost spill a certain 8-letter phrase that sober you would rather keep to herself. Drunk you wishes you could get over yourself and just say it, so every time- like clockwork- you get close to his ear and begin the little phrase. But somehow, by some magical happenstance, an outside force steps in. Almost as if the universe is trying to tell you something. You just can’t figure out if it means don’t tell him at all or don’t tell him like this.

Just as you felt yourself lean in and brush your lips against the outer shell of his ear Niall showed up out of nowhere letting us know he was heading to the bathroom and joking about how if he wasn’t back in 20 minutes to call security.

“What was that you were about t’say love?” He leaned in close to your ear as you had done to him not even 30 seconds ago before you were interrupted. In his inebriated state, it sounded more like “wha’ was tha’ ya were abou’ t’say love,” as he always talked a little sloppier when he’d had a few drinks. He says that when he bit the end of his tongue off that it got rid of his little lisp but it didn’t really. He’s just never sober enough to remember.

“I-uh, I don’t remember now,” You giggled, playing it off as drunken rambling. He nods, pulling you closer, if that was possible at this point, and swaying back and forth off beat to the music. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, face buried in your neck where he felt most at home. Your arms find purchase wrapped around his neck, your head placed gently atop his. To any wandering eye, it would seem as if the two of you were in love with each other.

-

Someone leaked pictures of your night out to the media. Harry doesn’t even bother to knock as he barges into your house to see you wandering around your kitchen putting things away, acting like you had no idea that the whole world thought you were dating your best friend. Because you didn’t. Your phone had been off all day in favor of getting things done around the house.

“Love, please don’t be mad…”

“Why, what did you do?”

“Have y’not seen?”

“...Seen what, H?”

“Shit,” He muttered under his breath, walking closer to you. He looked like a dog with his tail between his legs. You only grew more suspicious as he pulled his phone out, swiping around until he found what he was looking for.

A cold sweat broke out over your body, throat suddenly dry, heart beginning to race. What you were seeing was a picture of you and Harry with your hands all over each other on the dance floor of the club you were at last Friday night. Your name was attached to the tweet along with Harry’s, obviously, along with other pictures of the two of you together from that night. You felt a little sick.

You were angry that you let your guard down in public but all of your feelings of anguish and sickness washed away when you saw the look of pure fear in Harry’s eyes. He was absolutely terrified that you were going to push him away after this. His mind raced from all of the possibilities. He was terrified to lose you.

“I didn’t mean for this t’happen, pet. Promise! M’so sorry, I-” You shut down his worry, gently placing your hand on his cheek, brushing your thumb under his eye.

“Hey, I know. It’s ok. It’s ok.” You pulled him into your arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. He melted into you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. This is where he felt most at home. Safe in the arms of the girl he loves. His heart sinks at the idea that she would never know. He doesn’t know if he could live with the idea of you meeting someone else. Holding someone else the way you're holding him now. Tightening his grip on your waist, he pulls his head away from your neck, resting his forehead against yours.

“Y/n… I- god why is it so hard f’me t’say this.” He stumbles over his words, trying to find the courage to say what he’s been waiting for so long to tell you.

“Say what, Haz?” You whispered, heart picking up speed. Your fingers gently brushed away a stray curl that had fallen into his eyes.

He was quiet for a beat, looking anywhere but your eyes. When he finally did make eye contact, your breath caught in your throat. His eyes held a look you had seen so many times before. A look you told yourself didn’t mean anything so many times that for a moment, you almost believed it.

“The way I feel about you…” He whispered. This time, it was his hand that gently met your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye. His eyes flitted back and forth between your lips and your irises.

“Baby, for so long I tried to tell myself that there was nothing here. That we really were just good friends, but we both know…” His voice didn’t raise any higher as he said this. You could feel his hand shaking on your cheek. You held his wrist, returning his intense gaze and nodding your head subtly.

You did know. You hadn’t quite realized that he knew too, but you knew you certainly did. Maybe it was a good thing that someone leaked those pictures.

“Y/n, my darling Y/n… I love you.” Tears welled in your eyes as it felt like the weight of the galaxy had just been lifted from your shoulders.

“I know you do,” Your voice broke, trying to keep the happy tears at bay,” And I love you too.”

He closed the already minuscule distance between the two of you, matching his lips to yours. He poured everything he had ever felt for you into this kiss, holding you even tighter against him. You gave him everything you had and more, hoping that this kiss would be enough to truly tell him how you felt. I love you just isn't big enough. There aren’t enough words in all of the languages combined to truly describe the way you feel about the man kissing you right now.

You fit perfectly together, like one soul that's been split in two and destined to reunite over and over again throughout time. You truly believe you’ve fallen in love with Harry many times before, in different lives, as different people. The connection was just too pure for that not to be the case.

He broke the kiss, both of you gasping for air, him muttering, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” between every breath and wiping away the tears that had managed to escape onto your cheeks.

“What are we gonna do?” You asked after you’d both caught your breath.

“Well, first things first, I think I have a question to ask you…” He trailed, a gentle smirk pulling onto his face.

“M’love, will you be my girlfriend?” You beamed, looking into the green eyes before you, nodding your head more prominently.

“Yes,” You giggled as he cut you off with a kiss. His hands roamed the span of your back, cheekily dipping below your waistline, onto your ass. He rubbed his hands around before you playfully slapped them away, not being able to swipe the smile off your aching cheeks.

“We’ll figure this out, together. As long as I have you, the rest of the world doesn’t matter. We’ll take it one step at a time.” He says with an adoring smile.

The rest of the world doesn’t matter, you decide. You have him. And he’s all you need.