#so ill say it in the tags where the rude words live:

[yellowocaballero]

At this point you've written at least four different roleswap AUs, so I was wondering if you had any thoughts or takes about how a roleswap AU should be? - someone who's planning on making a roleswap AU

Please don't remind me. I'm embarrassed about this. I know I need to write other things. I don't know why the AU concept is so incredibly fun to write. I can't explain it. Roleswaps are very easy to write and a lot of fun and involve being a freak about everything. Who wouldn't write 10 of those bitches.

But yes, as someone whose roleswap AUs are like 9 out of her 51 fics, I feel qualified to talk about this. These are just my own opinions and takes, and other people might do it differently - if you write roleswaps too, feel free to add in your two cents!!

Before sitting down to write literally anything I always figure out the rules of the story. Writing is little more than a nonstop series of decisions, and if you abide by the rules of your story or characters then your decisions will be coherent and cohesive. By rules I don't mean worldbuilding - I mean the internal logic of the story and the characters. "X character will never explicitly say how he's feeling" or "the leads have to both win and lose every encounter".

I find establishing writing rules for roleswaps especially important - it's figuring out exactly how the roleswap works. Here are the ones that I find important, and kind of the process:

Decide what is swapped. Is it more of a universal swap, personality swap, backstory swap, chronology swap, or alignment swap? No matter which one you choose, all of these things are probably going to change anyway, but there has to be one central point for each character that guides your decisions. Are you actually swapping the narrative role in the story, or are you just changing it? You have to be really precise and have a very good idea of what exactly is swapped, and it has to be consistent throughout the story. It can't just (just) work on what you'd like to see, it has to be exactly the same between characters.

Decide the point of divergence. Sometimes that point is pretty abstract (She's a teenager in the 90s instead of the 20s). Sometimes it's much more specific, just one moment (He developed his superpowers at this moment instead of that). The point doesn't have to be immediately obvious, but you should know it - I did a backstory swap ages ago, and it seemed like a complete change, but like 150k in I dropped that a character dropped out of the police academy instead of completing it and that her entire life changed from there. If the swap is more abstract, then maybe it's just a series of smaller decisions - character A has these seminal points in his story, and I'm swapping him with character B, so here's what character B did during these seminal points instead, and how it changed him and his narrative.

Decide who the character is. This might be more personal, but for me, I think of the character as...there is a central tenet of them, of who they are as a person, that does not change no matter what. That's three or four traits of who they are, that you will not change, and that's what makes their swapped life their own instead of the OG dude's. But there's a lot of traits and behaviors around that core personality that's the result of their environment, backstory, and experiences. That's what should change. It's about figuring out how these essential traits + what is swapped + the point of divergence = an entirely different character and story. The roleswap you'll end up with will be a combination of all of these things: how the essential aspects of a character mix with what's swapped to create an entirely new environment and set of behaviors, which cause a chain reaction to create something new. As a writer, you sit down and say, "I'm keeping these parts of the character, I'm swapping out those parts, this new mix changes these points in their backstory, this results in this new person".

This is more of a guideline, but it's the most important to me: your characters have to be recognizable as the character. The reader shouldn't go, "this OC is making some weird choices". The reader should go, "I don't know how, because he's the exact opposite of his canon self in every possible way, but somehow he still feels like my favorite character". This is why you isolate those basic traits before changing the rest - so long as your character is still who they are deep inside, then they still feel like that character. And that's the fun of the story. You're selling something insane, and the reader is buying it.

It's a lot of really heavy character work. You have to really understand the characters you're writing - the less I get the original character, the more issues I'm perpetually having. I tend to fly fast and loose with characterizations, but when writing roleswaps I have to refer back to canon and the source material a lot ("In canon he did X thing, with his newly different backstory how would that decision change?"). The more you're rooted in canon, then the funkier and more divergent you can get.

Personally, I like to play a fun little game I call: how exactly opposite can I make this character until he stops feeling like this character? I Sometimes my goal in writing is "how deeply can I ruin this story". This is not a good game and people should not play it. I find that the lazier I get about getting in touch with the canon character, about keeping track of the canon decisions, and about following these guidelines, then the more difficult a story is to write. If you structure a story well then it's easy to write, and roleswaps are pretty easy. Thanks for the question!

[commence-screaming]

I know you all are awaiting my response, and I’m grateful for your patience. There are some things I have to address here. Never wanted to put everything out there—I don’t like drama on my blog. I have a document that’s over a thousand words long, but I realized that when people have blocked me and are saying stuff in the main tag, they don’t want to listen. They just want to hurt me.

So I guess now there are things I have to clarify… it’s heavy, but I tried to keep it short. I didn’t have the energy to read everything they were saying about me so I may get things wrong. I didn’t really want to post this.

Content warnings for mental illness, suicidal ideation, mentions of abuse.

Let’s get right into it.

1. I’ve always lived with the paranoid delusion that everyone was conspiring against me, that people secretly hated me and would smear me behind my back. I passed these off as negative thoughts, anything that might’ve “confirmed” this would set it off. I’d have an episode I would have to deal with on my own. I thought that nobody would stick with me in a crisis, and I would always be thinking along the lines of, “is it all over?”

I feel liberated, now. There’s no need to fight when they’re true. I am more at peace with myself.

2. I never want to hurt anyone. Not a real level, the angst stuff is fictional pain. I am autistic—the things you’re hearing me say are the first times I’ve talked to people (other than my family) for my entire life. I always want people to go to me when I do something wrong so I can handle it and learn from my mistakes, that’s why I have my bio set to what it is.

That, and my memory is so fuzzy that I can’t remember too much from even last week. I tend to dissociate and my brain turns into mush.

3. The “minor incident” that Ghouse and the others were talking about was one of his mods saying she’d “tear people apart” and then immediately citing me as the main cause because I was “being rude.” I told her why I was taking a break, as I couldn’t handle it, this had happened before and I asked them to correct me if I was wrong—even confirming multiple times that we were just joking around because I was paranoid.

I suggested they go straight to me for future reference. I was having a mental health episode. She called me crazy and that I was overreacting, implying I was stupid. Another mod told me I was overreacting and that I was acting pathetic and childish. This made point 1 so much worse.

4. The “suicide baiting” was something I told the Panic Room server in confidence. I told them I was talking a break. Ghouse said “it wasn’t that bad but okay,” as if he were gaslighting me. He said things like this as I was sobbing alone in my room, which he was well aware of.

I have to clarify that it wasn’t baiting. Suicidal ideation has been something I’ve been dealing with since I was 9 years old. I have been abused/gaslit for more of my life than I have been safe. I never wanted to say this, but they were brushing me off at a point where I was trying to find a reason to live. I had stupidly thought that they would understand what they were doing to me if I said.

5. That was the first time I had an episode like that. To say that it was baiting is to say I was lying. Let’s play devil’s advocate here.

If I were lying for attention, why would I destroy all my relationships in a single night? Why wouldn’t I make art or something along those lines? They’re big on art.

If I wasn’t, then that would mean that I was having a few bad days and they did nothing to help me… beyond condescendingly saying that I need help. I don’t blame the minors in the server, I’m talking about Ghouse, who is older than I am by around 2 years. I told them I called 988 and it didn’t really work. He continued to tell me off.

After I was kicked I was made aware that they immediately started insulting me. Whether you believe me or not, purposely attacking someone who’s mentally ill is… too far. I hadn’t done anything to them before this incident.

6. The reasons I freaked out was because I was sad that I had unintentionally hurt people, I had started a new, dangerous job, and… well, to be honest, I was terrified.

They were making me forget that I’d been hurt. I was starting to trust them. I had been starting to look forward to tomorrow. And, I was so scared that it would all be over. I didn’t know when, just that it would be.

Now, it is.

7. I may very well have been joking around with everything while on the server, but serious topics were serious. I was never “demeaning” when Ghouse was venting about something that happened to him beyond a couple of lighthearted comments. I thought they’d have the same respect for me. Again, I had confirmed multiple times that I was joking.

8. I might not have done much wrong in the Panic Room situation, but the other things that people are saying about me? I had no idea.

That was the first time I’d ever heard of them.

In the past, my autism had gone completely unchecked. some of those things were from when I was a week into being on my first server… ever. I was 17, had no idea how to check for age or even pronouns. Never used anything but tumblr, never interacted with anyone. Never went to school or even had a job at that point. I more tried to figure out everything based off of my own experiences… which was, not good. To say the least. The things I did, in my head, I thought they were “normal.” This doesn’t make it less terrible, but I hadn’t even remembered some of the incidents until someone pointed it out. It was so mundane to me—I was a messed up child. I’m sorry for this.

8. I wasn’t the best person, I really wasn’t. I didn’t know how to “mask” my traits at that time, I was excited to be able to talk to people. I was protective over my friends (my first friends! ever!) and very clingy. I didn’t know that people held characters close to their hearts, either? (When I have a favorite, I only want to hurt them, you see)

So while the doc was deliberately taking things out of context, some of the other accusations are true, unfortunately. I will be posting my DMs between me and the people on the server in my doc.

9. I have explanations for what I’ve seen of the accusations, but I don’t really recall anything from that incident over 3 years ago… if someone had told me, or even confronted me, I’d have known what was wrong. But they didn’t, and they kept talking to me like everything was normal. I was completely unaware. This is most of the reason I thought people were plotting against me—people would be cold to me and I wouldn’t know why. The worst part is that I can’t apologize. I can’t even try to rectify anything. Some of the people in that server still played PAYDAY 2 with me, some would even reply to my DMs. I had… no idea.

I have hurt people. Unknowingly, but still. I apologize to anyone I’ve affected. Most of it was not knowing how basic social media functions worked. I hope you understand that my behavior was out of line, and that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Don’t defend me on that, I was entirely wrong. But… smearing me in the fandom tag instead of going to me directly means that they want to attack me. They don’t want an explanation.

All of my actions were genuine. I never intended to hurt anyone, but that’s what ended up happening. I’ll put more detail into the doc.

10. I was already going to take a break. I was already doing poorly, and the server knew this. At that point, they want me to go through with it. What else would they be saying when they do all of this? Unless I’m reading that wrong. Whatever the reason is, they don’t want to help me, they’re deliberately being malicious and they know I wasn’t baiting.

Although, I guess I have to thank them. Now, I can say that I wasn’t delusional. I can say that I was too smart for my own good. How crazy does it sound to think that everyone was just waiting to betray me? But… they were. I can begin to trust myself again, even if it’s accepting some of my “negative thoughts” as reality. I won’t be reaching out to anyone I don’t already know, and there is safety in never putting myself out there again.

Thank you to everybody who stuck around. My delusions… weren’t entirely correct. Just like how most of my former friends blocked me on sight, there were a few people who didn’t mind when I wasn’t responding. There are some people who believed in me to a point where even if all those accusations were true, they believed that I could change. That’s… something I never thought I’d hear, ever, in my life. That is a form of trust I don’t deserve, really.

So, I was wrong again. Not everyone wanted me gone. It took all of this for me to realize that there were people who loved me in the truest form of it.

As for everyone who cut me off… well, I hope you understand that because of my mental issues, I can never trust you beyond a professional level. It is for my own wellbeing, because I’m still not doing good. I will still be taking that break. The PAYDAY 2 fandom was a source of reprieve for me, and now it’s not. It wasn’t an accident that it turned out that way. All my safe spaces have been taken from me. I don’t know why the Panic Room server hated me, so I can’t provide any extra insight on that.

The truth is, I haven’t been around because I’ve been dealing with depression for a long time. I’ve been passively… yknow. Not actively. I haven’t had the energy to respond to anything on most days, I’m sorry for that :(

All of this was just the breaking point, really.

Thank you for reading. I know most people won’t, but I appreciate those who do. I won’t blame the rest of you if you all decide to leave as well, I understand that. I never made the blog for other people, I made it for myself. This whole thing will serve as a reminder that there are more important things than online spaces. Can’t get therapy because I’m broke, but I can enjoy the few things I still can… even if I’m reminded of what I’ve lost. I don’t think I’ll really be here anymore, but I will be okay.

[ancientevangelions]

Hello! I'm new here! Just the other day I was going through the AsuShin tag, found your fics, and loved them! I also spent some time reading your thoughts and theories. Which brings me to ask, how do you perceive the changes and (lack of) relationship between Asuka and Shinji from Evangelion, EoE and Rebuild?

Specifically regarding Rebuild, I found it disheartening how they set Shinji and Asuka aside so easily. I'm not talking strictly nor only about shipping. I grew up watching the 90s Evangelion. And a big part of the story and its exploration of psychological themes and characters's psychology and motivation was Shinji's relationship with Asuka. Most of all in EoE, which, to me, is the ending I find most fitting.

It was dreadful to watch the redone beach sequence where Shinji thanks Asuka for admitting she used to like him, then him saying he used to like her back. Only for them to have that "everything is suddenly happy now" ending. This sequence seems to discredit most of the themes and sacrifices made in the original story, and does not satisfactorily brings their story to a close, but instead seem to try to brush it aside or bypass it somehow. Again, I do ship AsuShin but my grievance has much more to do with the way Rebuild handled them, I don't think in a story like Evangelion we could ever have had hopes of them living happily ever after or even be together necessarily

Hello!

Thanks for being here. I wanted to answer this as thoughtfully as I could! Asuka and Shinji are definitely a complicated pair. Regardless of shipping, they require care and attention to understand.

In NGE/EoE, the focus of the series is on their interactions, especially with the End of Evangelion. Episode 9 onward is focused primarily on the interactions between Asuka and Shinji, their highs and lows, the back and forth and their eventual downfalls. I always find it funny how people are highly critical of the interactions between the kids. From my memory of high school/being a teen (2004 to 2009 mostly), it was very much like this. A lot of back-and-forth denial of feelings and messiness trying to avoid pain, not wanting to speak your feelings due to embarrassment, and a lack of knowledge on consent or anything romantic or sexual. It all was a very realistic portrayal of my teen years, primarily because of the depression and mental illness (spoken as an undiagnosed mentally ill teen).

The realism with Asuka and Shinji and the non-linear progression/recovery felt extremely important to me. It was evident that they had a massive attraction to one another. Still, they fell into the trap I had in my youth of being unsure how to communicate my feelings without being rejected or experiencing pain. Even without romantic or sexual feelings, Shinji and Asuka live together, attend school, and work together. They are often abandoned by Misato at home alone, left to their own devices. They are two kids competing to see who can grow up faster. They have a compelling dynamic because they are so messy! In NGE, we see their ups and downs, learning about each other, fighting together and building trust, kindness, rude words, misunderstanding, poor communication, etc.

I love End of Evangelion. I don't need to see what happens after Asuka returns; I know now Yui was telling the truth that anyone can return when they are ready. Of course, it would be Asuka next after Shinji; their destinies are intertwined. She has every right to show him compassion AND to still be angry after all he did to her. The point of the ending scene is that there is love and affection in the world, but it's not forced; it's not a given; it's realistic. No one owes you anything, not love, not compassion, but when we choose to be kind, how amazing is that? Asuka and Shinji can continue to learn, grow and survive together. There is hope; they can be happy, but they must rebuild, work together, and try to find that happiness. 

Rebuild of Evangelion is so Shinji-centric at times it feels like it doesn't care about anyone else's motivations or backstory. Rebuild disappointed me so much with its focus on cinematic fights over substance. Rebuild also falls into the trap of forcing a perfect happy ending, which is unrealistic and annoying. Real change is messy and takes effort, years and years of action, and instead, we find perfection in imperfection. It's okay and expected if everything doesn't go exactly as planned. Rebuild needs more focus. It's evident that there was no overarching plan for the 4 films and that they underwent rewrites and delays for years. Of course, ideas would change. It took years to finish the series. It went from "Evangelion for new fans, a retelling that doesn't require you to watch NGE" to "The action sequences are good; let's make money off of sexualized children."

A lot of the AsuShin content is added on later in canon bonus material later added to 3.0 + 1.0 to clear up misconceptions about the relationships. It's subtle, and it feels tacked on. Shinji spends so little on-screen time with any of the characters that we don't get the same interactions, world-building, or character development and the flatness of the characters bothers me so much. What are their motivations? "Well, he cooked for her, so she likes him." Okay… that seems flimsy since she spends all her time alone, and he spends all his time alone… 

Shikinami might as well be 14, screaming that she is an adult now. For all the ways she has changed between 2.0 and 3.0, stewing in her anger doesn't seem very adult. The children telling us they are adults really doesn't convince me. The time skip accomplished nothing as no one reflected on 14 years passing in a realistic way. Shinji didn't grieve lost time or grapple with being an adult in a child's body. The deus ex machina at the end might have been "And then Shinji woke up, and Wonderland was gone" or "Asuka clicked her red heels and said there's no place like home."

Pixar films are popular because "Life doesn't always go according to plan, but you can still find happiness in the mess of life." The idea is that things are imperfect, and we make the most of what we have. Sometimes, what we want is different from what we need. Rebuild fails to capture this and instead falls into a trap I see in YA novels where the epilogue is much too neat. We see ourselves in the characters, and we identify with the struggle, but then the ending is too tidy. The protagonist gets a hetero-normative end with children and a picket fence and marries one of the love interests introduced early on. The protagonist becomes unrelatable to us because they fall into complacency where they have a 9 to 5 job and do nothing to better anything after the "fall of the tyrant." To quote The Who with their song Won't Get Fooled Again: "Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss." How can we, who are struggling daily for our survival and happiness, find the changing of one problem to be satisfactory in solving all issues? No more Evas, cool, but now he is under capitalism which we all know SUCKS. Sounds perfect, Shinji. Thanks for making your lives miserable in a new way. Trapped in wage labour sounds excellent. 

That's why I'm not a fan of "happy" endings. I only need some of the problems solved. I want to see work to build a new world. In the Rebuild ending, I dream of Asuka and Shinji working side by side to rebuild cities, prevent new child soldiers and be active in a community that fears them. We don't need a dream of paradise. We need hope that WE can make a difference, too. 

[svedupelle]

the random antisemitism on my dash from you fucking blew, that post literally has someone saying death to jews in the notes

Im guessing this is the post ur talking about and that this is the comment u mean

(if not, and someone somewhere in the tags said word for word "death to jews", then i didnt spot it. But more importantly, you understand that i am not responsible for that person writing those words, right? and that i may have reblogged that post not because of what some rando said in the tags that i didnt check beforehand, but because of what the post is actually about? which is the state of Isr*el's continued atrocities against palestinians, and more specifically the morbid humor in some random isr*elian on the internet being blind to the real extent of their nations descent into despotism and violence? Just so we're clear about the subject matter of the post)

Anyway. so if that is indeed the comment ur saying meant to say death to jews, then it would seem ur confused about something. Namely zionism *isn't* the same thing as judaism. let's start with the fucking dictionary:

So merriam-webster agrees with me that being a zionist is not the same as being jewish. And quite frankly, it can't be, since unless if we want to posit that gentiles have an inherent and innate opposition to the jewish people having a nation of their own, then it must be possible and true that gentiles can also support a nation of Isr*el, and therefore, can be zionists. And I don't personally believe that not being jewish inherently makes you hateful of jews and opposed to a peaceful existence alongside and together with them. I doubt you do either, considering.

So, we've basically already established that being a zionist does not automatically make one jewish, which means that calling for the death of all zionists does not mean you are calling for the death of all jews.

On the other hand, it would make sense for a lot of zionists to *be* jewish, thus meaning that you are calling for the death of, if not all, then at a least a lot of jews. Now i hate pedophiles. IF we were to imagine a world where 60% of pedophiles were jewish, and i said i think pedophiles should die, i do not believe it would be antisemitic, because i would arguing for the death of pedophiles *regardless* of a majority of them being jewish. Similiarly, the person calling for the death of all zionists is probably doing so independantly of a lot of zionists being jews (maybe, i didnt check to see if there are any statistics on that and im not about to, because this is mostly hypothetical anyway).

"But 'zionist' is just a dogwhistle for jewish, so they do mean death to all jews!"

Then let's take a look at the first part of their comment: "death to the illegal settler colonial state of Isr*el"

now im no expert. but i do believe they may be referring to the aforementioned atrocities and the current apartheid that palestinians endure under the rule of Isr*el. Personally i find it reasonable and to some degree expected of people to condemn these acts. Maybe calling for the death of living people is extreme, but either way, i dont think this person is calling for the death of jews, specifically.

Or maybe they are. Maybe the person in the notes is a big antisemite. I dont know. I dont feel like digging through their blog to check. What I do feel more strongly about is the fact that you worded your ask in a way that suggests you know me, since you expect better from me. Whether ur a follower or a mutual, it makes me incredibly sad that you felt the need to send this through anon instead of a dm. maybe its intimidating or something, but getting this ask doesnt feel like a dialogue, it just feels rude. u didnt even greet me first

i'll make it clear: i have no ill will towards jews. at all. i very much want for all jews across the world and especially in my country to be able to live their lives free from the prejudice, hatred and trauma that they may suffer as a result of antisemitism at the hands of people like myself. i dont know how to make this clearer

i do not support the nation of isr*el. i dont like its actions, i dont like its leaders. i am a firm believer in the fact that until the nakba ends, there will never be a worthy argument for the nation's continued existence. and i do not like how people intentionally misconstrue criticisms of it as antisemitic to condemn the critic, such as what you are doing.

The fact that you seem to be familiar with me annoys me. i despise letting people down. i always do my best not to do so, and always wish to be reliable. but you're annoying. so either dm me if you want to have a real discussion, or block me. read this before you go though, its somewhat interesting. now fuck off

[serenailith]

don’t go where i cannot follow

for @dreamlingbingo

Square: a5, last kiss Rating: g Word Count: 756 Ship(s): dream of the endless/hob gadling Warnings: major character death Additional Tags:  end of the world, alternate universe - canon divergence, loss of anthropomorphic personification of concept Summary:

Hob thinks he should have had a warning, but when it comes to losing the love of your life, no warning would suffice.

Link: on ao3 masterlist

goes hand-in-hand with don’t let the sun go down on me

If ever in his life you’d told him that he would love a being as vast and endless as, well, an Endless, Hob Gadling would admit that it wouldn’t be his finest point but certainly not the worst ill-advised decision in his life. If you’d told him that said vast and endless Endless would love him back, he would have called you a bloody idiot and cheerfully bought you another round. He’d also have robbed you blind the moment you accepted his drink, depending on what era in his life this conversation took place, but alas, man’s nature can hardly be helped.

As it is, he does fall in love with a vast and endless Endless, and said vast and endless Endless falls in love with him, too. And no one is robbed—no one who doesn’t deserve it, anyway. Hob’s highwayman days are long past, but those skills don’t just disappear.

If asked when he first knew of his feelings for Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, Prince of Stories and King of Nightmares, Hob would lie and say it was some innocuous moment. Their eyes met, and the light hit Dream’s grey-blue ones just right, and that was that. In truth, however, it was back in 1689. When his Stranger (because Hob wouldn’t know his name for another three hundred and thirty-two years) had gazed upon him at his lowest, tears in those grey-blue eyes, and Hob had seen something other than devastating pity.

No, it was sympathy in his Stranger’s eyes. Sympathy in the form of tears that wouldn’t fall and…

Pride, perhaps?

(Dream later admitted, over their first dinner together, before the relationship officially began, that he’d been more proud of Hob for wanting to live, than he’d been of any human in too long. Hob still wears that particular piece of praise as a badge of honour, despite it all.)

It takes the two of them over five hundred years to get things right, but eventually, they do. And it’s all Hob has dreamt of since 1489 when his Stranger assured him he was no Devil. Sure, he’s had to keep those certain fantasies in the back of his mind, firmly locked behind gritted teeth never to escape. Life isn’t kind to those who want differently, after all. But still, Hob spent his sleeping hours, even those caused by drink, dreaming of better knowing his Stranger.

It wasn’t until 1789 that Hob allowed himself to imagine… more than just a certain amount of domesticity, of friendship. No, after that bout in the White Horse, when Lady Johanna had rudely interrupted their centennial meeting, that’s when Hob’s dreams took a rather drastic turn. He let himself fantasise about more than just hours spent reading with his Stranger or walking along the shores. He let himself dream of a familiarity given only to those made lovers.

1889 happened, then 1989, followed by 2021, and Dream came back from his imprisonment. He came back, and they had so much fucking time together. So many years, they should have had. Uncountable. Until—until everything ended. Until Death turned the lights out and locked the universe behind her. Until there was nothing left but what was to come.

Someone should have told him. He should have had warning. Someone should have said “This will be the last year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second you will ever spend with the being you love more than you’ve ever loved yourself.” He should have been able to do better, to hold on tighter.

They should have had more, him and Dream.

If he had known then what he knows now, Hob would have tried harder to dream, to find himself within Dream’s realm once more to share in the majesty. He would have made sure their last embrace—their last touch—their last kiss—their last everything would have been better. That Dream would know that no matter what happens, Hob has loved him so deep in his bones, it feels as if it’s always been a part of him. That Dream would know that there is nowhere he goes that Hob cannot follow, but Hob can’t follow now. Hob knows not where Dream has gone.

But Dream has gone.

Now all Hob has left are the memories, and he’s not ready. He will never be ready to say goodbye to the being he will never forget, never stop loving, never see again.

Hob isn’t ready, but he still lives on.

He still has much to live for.

[cherryblossomshadow]

#oof that last line #disability problems rip #if you have no achievements goals or projects it's literally treated like a mental illness (tags courtesy of @katisconfused) Totally to the added tags- it often feels like there has to be some kind of news or development to deliver to people or they are dissatisfied in you. I think it’s the capitalist growth mindset we have here- constant productivity or you’re not doing anything (comment courtesy of @eto-bee)

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#i think it's because success is tied to value here #so if someone values you they want to find a success to praise you for or help you feel successful (tags courtesy of @40screamingfrogs)

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#american society is individual-based rather than communal-based #you are fully expected to achieve cool things and to tell people about them #what do other countries do for small talk i'm confused now (tags courtesy of @artisticlicense-personal)

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#when someone pointed out that americans ask about what people do for a job a lot it rocked my world #apparently it's really rude in other countries to even ask #while it's really normal small talk here! (tags courtesy of @a-daks)

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#America's insanely individualistic but sometimes it isn't in an inherently bad way #It's just in a way that sometimes doesn't mesh with other norms (tags courtesy of @theater-of-dimensions)

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I’m American and I’ve always lived here, always raise by just Americans but I do this with every single conversation I have. I didn’t realize that Americans don’t do this and are more direct. I used to think that nobody wanted to talk to me because they had nothing to comment on what I was saying. My whole life I have been thinking “okay so I have autism so maybe I’m not holding a conversation correctly” or “I must be boring them/they don’t like me/don’t want to talk to me” I now realize what has been going on. I’m thankful for this post, I never would have understood. I always though “jeez they must not want to talk to me because I’m giving them SO many opportunities to keep carrying this conversation and they are just not doing it. Just ask me about something” now I know I have to be more direct when talking to people here 😭 a pain (comment courtesy of @xleeleeboox)

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#notes are super interesting on this post #and yeah it is super regional here but talking abt yr 'achievments' is definitely a base to the culture. at least where i live in the us #though achievements is a strong word its more like. i wanna know what youve been doing/abt yr life #tell me abt yr job and where you went to school and what hobbies youve picked up recently and if yr good at them yet #and what trips youve gone on and how you're doing as a person. if youve moved recently! #theres a bit of a back and forth about it. like. if i ask what yr job is after you talk about it for a bit you should ask abt my job but #most of it is just the expectation that we'll talk back and forth at each other about various things we do/are interested in for a while #not that im good at it lol i tend to forget stuff ive done recently and underplay my accomplishments cause i have self esteem problems but #its super cool to look and see that a. this is a social expectation we have in the us and b. that other cultures very much do not have this (tags courtesy of @letluigisaythefword)

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We have sayings in the US that reflect this too, even in our work lives. “The squeaky wheel gets the grease” meaning if you don’t speak up, if you arent adamant or even annoying about your wants/needs/desires then you won’t get them. But you turn around and look at Japan and you have “出る釘は打たれる” or “The nail that sticks up gets hammered down” which is very much the opposite. Greeks are similar, in my understanding, where if you are too boastful or compliment someone too eloquently, you’re supposed to follow it with some slight or insult or spit on the ground, so as not to “draw the ire of the gods/God/universe”. It was a cultural phenomenon I saw and was not as well educated on as I wish I was. If someone has a better understanding on it please take the stage. (comment courtesy of @olives-and-lilies)

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#….huh #i think in japan the analogy has to do with nails being hammered. #or in china they talk about you being a lone snappable chopstick #but yeah this is how america operates (tags courtesy of @laisai)

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#lol #Taking notes for when I have to interact with Americans #Mexicans are different because they are so quick to get personal… #People like to talk about what their family is up to a lot #Even the really dark stuff. And then you are getting therapy from the guy sitting next to you in the bus. #People say hi to each other and then are like 'anyway what has your mom been up to?' 'and your cousin?' (tags courtesy of @lyxthen-reblogs)

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#this was EXACTLY my experience getting to know USA folk #sometimes i still get blindsided by their unabashedness lmao #like ''wow you are SUCH an american. only an american would be so brazen.'' and i cannot stress enough #that that is said with FONDNESS! #they worm their way into your heart #i often defend americans at dinner and stuff because like yes sure they are very annoying ones but like. #the americans will agree that they are annoying. And mate they deal with a lot things………. #you would probably be a bit overbearing/batshit too tbf #its nice to talk to people who are so. open. and unapologetic abt that stuff (tags courtesy of @ain-person)

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Americans being the "funny guy who hypes others up" of the world is not what I expected to see but it's so nice? (comment courtesy of @itsdetachable)

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Image description beneath the cut:

[Images 1-2 ID: A comment on reddit by user Winterplatypus reading,

I think it's more than the media, there are some cultural differences that don't translate well. Australia is a bit more like England (and I want to say Japan?) and has tall poppy. syndrome. You don't talk about the cool stuff you did unless someone asks, and even when you do, you downplay it. There's also a weird conversation dynamic where the other person in the conversation plays an important role by picking up on the clues and asking questions that allow you to talk about your achievements. The end result is the same, you still talk about your achievements but there is a little verbal dance you have to do to get to that point. Americans don't play along with the dance at all. They talk about their achievements completely unprompted, and don't ask the right questions which enable you talk about yours. That makes the conversation one sided and gives us the impression that they don't care about us, it seems like they only want to talk about themselves.

But as you get to know them better you notice that they aren't self centered, they are operating based on a completely different set of social rules. If you talk about one of your achievements unprompted to an american they aren't hostile to you at all (like an aussie probably would be). They genuinely appreciate your achievement and congratulate you on it. It's complicated because ignoring the social rules gives us a bad first impression, but also makes them very genuine upfront open people that are happy to celebrate other peoples accomplishments. I feel a little bad for them because from their point of view it might seem like they are cheering for everyone else but nobody is cheering for them.

/end ID]

[Image 3 ID: tags by user @abluehappyface reading,

#as an American who doesn't share their achievements openly for my own reasons #NOT sharing your achievements is weird here #like if you don't people think you lack confidence and then they'll try to hype you up #'so what have you done recently' 'not much honestly' 'cmon you must have done SOMETHING' #like if you don't have something they deems as an achievement they'll either pry it out of you or turn something mundane into one #you can't NOT have an achievement or be good at something because then there's nothing to talk about it seems

/end ID]

This is the first time someone's pointed something out about the way we behave I didn't even realise and found myself realising they are entirely right

[maplecornia]

chapter 10

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬��𝔫𝔱: 3.24K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: I think the banner is super cute for this one, fitting to the super FLUFFY moments in this chapter ehehehe

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine |@fangirl125reader |@kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne

He takes you to a studio.

Though the hallway is simple, another slather of pure white paint, stone, and plaster, the floor a gorgeous light charcoal tile. The door to the studio is beautiful hardwood, a large window of tinted glass embedded within so that you can see a bit inside.

You stare at it with awestruck eyes.

Namjoon doesn't notice your expression at first, turning the knob to the door, and entering.

As he does, you don't move. You don't know if you can.

The studio isn't much, it's very simple when you think about it.

It's spacious, with dark walls and an almost metallic look to it. There are two comfortable chairs located at the soundboard which has a black undertone to them. The table is dark hardwood, even the floor is plated with dark mosaic tile. The recording area on the other side of the massive one-way glass in front of the soundboard has the same black theme, the walls soundproofed with patches of black material.

Though it may seem simple to some, to you, it could not be more beautiful.

This room holds every dream you ever had, everything you had once wanted to be. On the other side of that glass, you would have sung and made the very same music that helped you feel loved and wanted.

As you stand there, awestruck, RM notices that you're not beside him. He pauses, turning around to you, his computer powering on. He looks at you, a bit confused.

“Yen?” at his voice, you break out of your trance and snap your eyes to him. He chuckles a bit before setting down his coffee. “Are you going to come in? It's rude to stand in open doorways.”

Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you nod, hurrying in and closing the door shut behind you.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was just…” you trail off, searching for the words to explain, but coming up empty, you fall silent.

Namjoon gives you a look as you stop in the middle of the room, getting that dreamy, glazed-over look in your eyes once more. You seem as though you're afraid to touch anything. Maybe it will ruin the dream, somehow wake you up, when you don't want to be bothered.

“Are you okay?” he inquires, peering deeper into your eyes and tilting his head in a questioning gesture. Once more, the expression on your face disappears and you chuckle nervously.

“Yes, it's just, this doesn't quite feel real.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's always been my dream to come to a place like this.” You murmur, taking a steadying breath as you tentatively run your fingers over the top of the desk. The cool glossed-over granite sends a small shiver down your spine before you pull your hand back to your heart.

Namjoon’s eyes scan your face, searching it, as though it is the most interesting thing in the room right now. If you were to notice, the sight of his intense gaze would cause your heart to beat faster.

“What? A studio?” he inquires. You turn to him and nod, your mouth breaking into a wide grin, as you can’t ignore the pounding of adrenaline in your veins at your excitement.

“Yes. I've dreamed of being in one ever since I was a little girl.” Wistfully, your eyes turn to the one-way glass separating the soundproof from the recording studio.

“I would have sung right there, in front of that microphone. My producers and composers would be behind this glass, giving me pointers and helping me to make the best version of my song possible.” You explain, pointing to the lone microphone in the middle of the room. “But, I never got to live it.”

“What do you mean?” he asks intently, his eyes snapping back to you. You smile sadly and turn away from the glass, raising your tea to your lips. “Why couldn't you pursue your dream?”

“I didn't want to debut as a solo artist.” You answer him, chucking a bit bitterly afterward.

“It's a stupid reason, I know, but in America, there aren't necessarily companies constantly holding new auditions for boy and girl groups, like in Seoul. Normally it was you, on your own. If you wanted to debut as a group, you had to have people you knew willing to do that with you. I didn't have people who would want to do that with me. They all had their dreams, and I had mine. I saw those solo artists perform, and all I could see was how lonely they were up there. I wouldn't be able to do that. I don't think I'd be able to survive, to feel as though I were the only one in the world. As though everything I did or didn't do would define who I was. I wouldn't be strong enough to deal with that on my own.”

He looks at you, silent but understanding. As you raise your eyes to him, almost hesitant, you don't expect to see the sweet, kind smile on his face.

“It's not stupid.” He says, turning to the computer and opening up a few files. “Besides, now you're living it...sort of. How does it feel?”

He pulls back one of the chairs and beckons for you to sit down. You take it, easing yourself into the chair and thankfully finding that nothing disappears.

“Unreal.” You whisper, almost giddy at the sight of the soundboard in front of you. If you were in the recording area, things would get out of hand. He chuckles at your answer and sits down as well, pulling up a demo that he has no doubt been working on.

“You're lucky Yoongi isn't here, he would fuss at you for taking his seat.” He teases, but your eyes go wide and you almost stand up. RM grabs you by the wrist almost as soon as you do and sits you back down in your seat.

“Don't worry, I’m just joking.” You smile, laughing nervously, but continue to sit on the edge of the chair.

“Is he here?” you ask, trying to make sure you aren't overstepping any boundaries. Namjoon shakes his head in response, adjusting things on the soundboard.

“He was supposed to be but got called away for another project. He’s still a producer after all, and was only helping me a bit with this demo.” He explains. Relaxing, you sit back, nodding.

He proceeds to play with the soundboard as though it were some secret language only he knew, and you watch him, trying to study how it works. He pushes up a button there, twists a knob here, all the while clicking continuously on his computer.

“Is this what you got from your studio?” you inquire, and he turns toward you. As you glance up at him, your eyes meet before he turns back to the computer, and nods.

“Yep. I've been working on this for quite some time now, but can't seem to get the sound right. It's strange because I already have the lyrics for it, but one part just doesn't seem to flow.” You watch as his cursor highlights one part of his track and he pulls a pair of headphones off from the console. Drawing away from his computer, he turns to you. He offers them to you in a questioning gesture.

“Do you want to hear?” he asks and you nod, reaching for them.

Instead, he places them securely on your head, and your hands go up quickly to readjust it to your liking. As they do, your hands touch his as they pull away, for a small moment. It sends a shock through your body, and you can hardly look him in the eye as your face grows hot.

He, however, can't take his eyes off you. As you glance up at him with that innocent, confused gaze, he has to quickly turn away. His hand raises to his mouth, as though that would hide it from your curious orbs.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly, hoping that would cover up his slight embarrassment.

“Yes.”

Complying, he clicks the play button and after a small sound of silence, the music begins, soft and steady. It has a peaceful beat to it, one that calms you and makes you smile. Closing your eyes, you tap your hands over the headphones, almost as if to press the music deeper into your mind. As it progresses, the music grows faster and you can hear a woman's voice in the background vocalizing.

Opening your eyes, remembering that this should be where RM is having trouble, you can hear the music begin to transition, as though a record were stopping at the end of its song.

You can see where RM is having trouble.

The music that comes next is too fast, too different from the beginning of the track, it holds no consistency. Once it fades out, back to the calm and quiet track, you pull off the headphones, pondering what to tell him.

You know that he wants your opinion, but you don't want to be disrespectful.

“Well? Any suggestions?” he asks, holding your gaze with persistent eyes.

“May I?” you request, gesturing to the computer, and he nods, switching places with you. You have enough experience with software such as this that you know what you're doing.

“You see this area right here? I feel as though that's where the sound starts to sound a bit off. It's not necessarily that the beat is bad, it's perfect. However, in this area, it doesn't flow like the rest of the song.” As you play the area you're talking about, you hardly notice how close Namjoon moves to you, peering at the screen.

Your bodies are mere inches apart, his heat making your back warm. It's comforting, as though there is someone behind you whom you can trust.

“You see?” you say once it stops playing, turning and finding your face inches away from him. As he peers at the screen with narrowed, focused eyes he doesn’t notice you staring.

He's so close that you can see the deep brown of his eyes, the product in his soft hair, and the smoothness of his cheeks. The comforting warmth immediately changes into something else. Swallowing hard, you tear your gaze away. Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you try to cool them down, and silently wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating.

Honestly...how could Korea ever call this man ugly?

“What would you suggest we can do to change it?” he asks, glancing down at you just as you raise your eyes to the screen, trying to ignore your pounding heart.

“I think that maybe if you used the same piano accompaniment in the beginning after the transition, then that would satisfy the need for consistency while keeping the original sound of the track.” You suggest, looking at him for approval.

He doesn't answer at first, instead, he reaches across you, carrying out your task. Swallowing hard, you freeze, afraid to make the tiniest movement and accidentally touch him.

He doesn't notice, his turn to be entranced in his work, and you're thankful for it. You try to inconspicuously hide your face from him, missing your baggy clothes. Normally the giant sleeves would be enough to mask your blush, but now you only have the comfort of your small hands against your cheeks. Once he's done, he pulls back, gesturing for you to play it.

“Let's see if this works.” He murmurs, almost hopeful. You nod, pressing the mouse and intentionally avoiding eye contact with him until your heart has calmed down. The beginning of the song starts once again, helping to calm your nerves and you feel at ease once more.

You weren't aware there would be so little personal space when you first walked into the BigHit building.

When it comes to the particular area in the song, you're surprised to find that your idea worked. The small part no longer sounds out of place and it flows with the rest of the song. It still needs some tuning, but you solved his problem.

“Woah…” Kim Namjoon mutters, and you turn to him, finding surprise and a sort of pride in his expression.

“That’s incredible.” His eyes turn from the screen to rest on you laughing softly.

“Did you know that you're incredible? It's such a simple fix, such a simple error. Something we couldn’t pick up, and you…” he runs his hand over his face, staring at the computer screen with an unbelievable expression before turning his eyes to you once more. “I guess what they say about fresh ears is true.”

You blush at the pride, trying to ignore it, act like you did nothing at all, which you didn't. With him looking at you that way, however, it's hard not to feel vital, somehow important to this song.

“So!” you say, sitting straight in your chair and turning to him. “What do we do next?”

“What to do next….” he ponders on the thought before his eyes widen as though remembering something.

He curses under his breath, checking his watch. Immediately, he pulls back from the soundboard, and heads to the door, beckoning for you to follow him. You hurry to your feet, taking his coffee and your tea before scuttling after him.

“Where are we going?” you call out, having to jog to reach his side. He doesn't answer you, just mutters incomprehensible things under his breath.

You keep quiet behind him, understanding that he's stressed out. Sometimes it's just better to keep silent to show that you understand. You do that for him now, just follow him as he leads you back to Mon Studio, retrieving a few things and pocketing them in a backpack.

You wait for him near the entrance by your satchel, where you left it safe before.

As he finishes and begins to search for something, his phone rings and he curses once more. He rolls his eyes in annoyance as he pulls it out from his pocket.

“Yes?” he snaps.

As he presumes to continue packing, he beckons you for help. You comply, setting down the drinks before packing away the papers, pens, and flash drives into his pack.

“Han, I know I’m late, okay? I was in the middle of something.” Turning from you, he snags a mask off from a small hook on his wall. He shoves that into his jacket, before rummaging through his desk drawers, searching for something.

Han?

“Yes, I understand that it's an important meeting, I am trying my best to get there.” As you finish packing, he turns to you, whispering glasses, and you nod, beginning to search for them as well. He continues talking incomprehensibly on the phone, just as you spy the glasses. You snatch them, presenting them miraculously to him. He smiles at your ecstatic expression, taking them and placing them on his hat securely.

“Okay. Yes, I understand. Alright, I’ll see you soon.” With that, he ends the call, sighing as he places his phone back in his pocket and turns to you.

“I'm sorry about all that, I forgot I had to go to a meeting out of Yongsan-dong today and lost track of time.” He explains. You nod, understanding as he begins to position his mask on his face. “I was hoping to teach you the ropes a bit more, but I guess that will have to wait till tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know what time to get here?”

“Yes. I'm supposed to get here around 7:30 am so that I’m ready.”

“Ready with what?” you smirk at his little question game before answering.

“Your schedule and coffee. You'll text me if you want me to get coffee for the other members. You'll also text me if I’m supposed to meet you in another place besides your studio. For now, I’ll be able to find any place in the building on the map you gave me.” He nods mutely as you recite your duties like a soldier. Once you're finished, he zips up his backpack and hikes it on his shoulder.

“Good. you'll be able to get the schedule from the receptionist at the front desk every morning. You'll also be accompanying me to every meeting, practice, or recording I have unless otherwise specified.” You nod in agreement, watching as he turns around in a circle seeming to search for something.

“Where did I…” reading his mind, you turn to the place where you put the drinks and hand him his coffee.

“Here you go.” You say, and he smiles, laughing at himself for his absentmindedness. He takes it from you, your hands making slight contact, but this time it isn't shocking. It's familiar, almost brotherly, makes you feel secure and comforted.

“Is there anything else I need to do?”

“Yes, actually if you could clean up my studio and the one we were working in, that would be a great help. You remember where it is right?” you nod, and he nods in return, turning to the door.

“After that, you'll be able to go home, I hope tomorrow I’ll be able to teach you more.” As he opens the door and steps outside, you bow to him, respectfully.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim. Once more, I apologize for being so late.” After a moment, you raise your head and find him staring at you with an unreadable expression. His soft brown eyes remind you of a wistful puppy. You tilt your head in confusion at the look, wondering what he could be thinking in that vast brain of his.

“Mr. Kim?”

“You don't need to do that.” He murmurs, as though he's talking half to himself.

“What?” you inquire, trying to make sure you heard him right. He turns fully to you, repeating himself once more, this time a bit louder for you to hear.

“You don't have to be so formal. I know everyone else does it, but you don't have to.”

You blink at him blankly.

“Jaejin never used them either. I guess it's easier to drop the formalities and work with someone who feels as though they’re a friend.” He explains, flashing a small smile your way. “I hope that won't be too hard.”

“Oh! Oh no! Not at all!” you say quickly, shaking your head vigorously.

“It makes it a bit easier on me, actually. Using honorifics can be a bit confusing.” You chuckle a bit and his smile grows wider, softening at the tips.

“Goodbye, Yen.” He says, turning away once more, before pausing and peeking over his shoulder at you as though he forgot something. “By the way, Jaejin was right."

"About what?" you ask, a bit confused, but all he does is smile.

"I'm glad he chose you as his replacement.”

The sweet phrase leaves you standing there frozen, unable to mutter a goodbye.

He chuckles to himself at the expression, placing his sunglasses on his nose before walking out of the room and down the hallway.

It takes you a moment, but once he’s gone, you shake out of your trance, your heart pounding deep in your chest.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” You whisper to yourself, holding your hand to your heart as you drop the honorific.

Crossing that barrier that turns you from a co-worker into his friend.

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: so...ship or skip?

chapter 11 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[djarrex]

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh). 

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that. 

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.  

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask? 

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you. 

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.  

<3 

M

[meantforinfinitesadness]

Spring Moments

Hello!!! This is the fic I wrote for @swspringfling! My recipient is @p-s-brooklyn (it’s not letting me tag you for some reason....) and this is a Modern AU Codywan fic with a healthy serving of Rainshowers, Thunder, Lighting, and Illness! There are first meetings, kissing in the rain, and even a proposal in the rain! 

Oh, there’s also an off-screen character death that decided it wanted to make an appearance. It’s in the second to last section of the fic and it’s not Cody or Obi-Wan, don’t worry. 

You can read it on ao3 or you can read it here! It’s kind of long, so be wary of that!

--------

Obi-Wan loved the rain. He loved the way it sounded in a quiet house as it hit the roof. He loved the way the drops looked on windows and the way it made everything smell just that much nicer.

(And, yes. His favorite smell was petrichor, thank you for asking.)

Obi-Wan loved the rain. He loved walking in it…

At least, when he had an umbrella and slightly warmer clothes he loved it. 

He didn’t mind not having an umbrella or warmer clothes to help, though. 

“If you just learned how to drive…”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the memory of his brother saying those exact words to him on a day very much like this one. It wasn’t that Obi-Wan had strong feelings about driving...well...actually…

“Hey!” A voice not from a memory jolts Obi-Wan. He turns wide eyes to the owner of the voice. 

A man had stopped his car in the middle of the road, rolled his window down, and was looking a touch concerned. 

Obi-Wan blinked at the stranger, feeling water droplets fall from his lashes and onto his cheeks.

“Uh…” Obi-Wan fumbled for words. “Hello there.”

“Do you need a ride?” The man asks.

“Pardon?”

“Well, it’s pouring rain, you see, and you don’t have an umbrella.”

Obi-Wan blinks again and raises an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”

The man chuckles. “I know you don’t know me, but you look absolutely drenched. I promise I’m not a murderer or anything of the like.”

Obi-Wan hums and the corner of his mouth quirks up. “That sounds like something a murderer would say.”

The man snaps his fingers. “Damn,” he says in a false as though he was disappointed or sad his “deception” didn’t work. “I thought I could fool you.” 

Obi-Wan huffs out a laugh. “Alright,” he says.

The man stares at him. “Alright?”

“If your offer still stands, a ride would be nice.”

The offer does, indeed, still stand. So, Obi-Wan gets into the car and is immediately flooded with warmth. 

“Thanks.” He says through lightly chattering teeth. 

“It’s no problem. I’m Cody, by the way.” Cody informs him.

Obi-Wan turns his attention to Cody and his mouth dries at the sight of him up close. 

His hair is black and slightly curly. His beautiful dark skin is blemished only with a scar wrapping around his left eye. And his eyes are kind and bright. 

He’s gorgeous.

“I’m Obi-Wan,” he says a bit breathlessly.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says his name almost reverently. “I like that.”

“Thanks.” Obi-Wan replies. 

“So, Obi-Wan,” Cody grins at him. “Where to?”

----------------

“Obi-Wan grumbles to himself as he stands under an awning. His arms are wrapped around his body as he tries to preserve some warmth. 

The weather matches his mood with its dark clouds and rain shower, His date had not gone well.

The man he ate and talked with was rude and far too loud in the restaurant. Not to mention, he was late, ordered the most expensive item on the menu, then made Obi-Wan pay for it. After those unfortunate events, he left and didn’t offer Obi-Wan a ride for his trouble. 

Obi-Wan was surprised to find, though, that the waitress had been watching everything, spoke to her boss, and refunded him. Obi-Wan may or may not have cried at their kindness.

In the end, he decided to walk home even though it started to get late. Of course, his luck ran out and rain poured down. He’d pulled his phone out to call someone and ask for a ride, only to find his phone had died.

So, here he was.

Under an awning, freezing, and miserable.

Sighing, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and huddled further into himself. 

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes opened and he looked up with a smile.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted a drenched Cody.

“You got room for one more?” Cody asks, gesturing with his head to the space under the awning.

Obi-Wan inches over and tilts his head. Cody slides into the small space.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Obi-Wan says. 

Cody rubs his hands together and smiles. “Bad date.” He says.

Obi-Wan hums. “What a coincidence.”

“You too, huh?”

“How bad?” Obi-Wan asks, inching towards the shivering man. 

“He didn’t even show up.” Cody mumbles, rolling his eyes. He presses closer to Obi-Wan. “You?”

Obi-Wan groans and relays the events that occurred during his date.

Cody hisses in sympathy. “I’m sorry.” 

Obi-Wan shakes his head. He doesn’t quite realize how close the two of them are until Cody speaks again and Obi-Wan can feel the words vibrate through his body.

“Wanna try again?”

Obi-Wan quirks an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Cody shrugs. “I happen to know a place with great food, a comfy couch, and a warm fire.” He replies with a teasing smile. 

“Let me guess,” Obi-Wan returns the smile. “Would that be your place?”

Cody grins wider. “If that’s alright with you.”

Obi-Wan chuckles and pressed closer to Cody. “It sounds lovely. Lead the way?”

“With pleasure.”

-----------

“The rain seems to like you,” Cody says with a smirk as he pulls Obi-Wan close to him.

There are no places for them to hide from the downpour that seemed to come out of nowhere. They don’t mind.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and scoffs. The rain does well to hide the happy tears on his face. His fingers toy with the newly placed ring on his left hand. 

“You know,” Cody continues, locking eyes with Obi-Wan. “We missed a crucial part of this proposal.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow and Cody can’t help but think how beautiful it makes him look. 

How more beautiful it makes him look. 

The year since Cody gave Obi-Wan a ride home had gone quickly. Here they were, a year since then with Obi-Wan tearfully accepting Cody’s proposal and Cody’s heart just about bursting with love out of his chest.

“How very cliche of you.” Obi-Wan remarks dryly.

Cody shrugs with a smirk. “You know you want to be part of that cliche. A kiss in the rain.”

Obi-Wan tilts his head as though seriously thinking about the idea posed to him.

“Why not.” He finally says. 

Cody snorts and tugs Obi-Wan closer.

“I love you,” Cody whispers.

“I know,” Obi-Wan retorts with a gleam in his eye.

Cody laughs and plants his lips on Obi-Wan’s.

They kiss there in the rain, oblivious to the water and the cold. Only seeing and feeling each other.

------------------

A miserable-sounding cough rips its way through the living room and into the kitchen. Cody winces at the sound produced by Obi-Wan and scoops one last bit of soup into a bowl before making his way to Obi-Wan. 

“Obi-Wan?” Cody calls as he enters the domain of on ill Obi-Wan.

The redhead is bundled in blankets on the couch and is watching the rain shower.

The drops slide down the window and Cody can’t help but think of the times when he was a child and would watch the drops, choosing one to cheer for as though it were a race to see which drop would slide all the way to the bottom first.

Yeah, maybe he did that as an adult as well, but it brought him joy.

“Hey,” Cody says softly as he sits next to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan smiles. “Hi,” he says shortly, coughing harshly into a blanket not long after.

“You sound horrible,” Cody says, earning a glare from Obi-Wan that doesn’t have the same heat it normally would. “I brought you soup.”

Obi-Wan makes a face. He hadn’t been able to keep anything down. His throat was probably raw and aching, and Cody knew he was scared to try and eat.

“Just try a little. If it doesn’t stay down, we’ll try something else.”

Obi-Wan relaxes at the soft, soothing tone and for a moment, all that can be heard is the rain as it hits the windows and roof. 

The ill man nods after a moment and opens his mouth.

Cody carefully feeds him a small spoonful of the light broth. 

Obi-Wan swallows and they both wait. A tremulous smile makes its way onto Obi-Wan’s face and it’s Cody’s turn to relax. He feeds Obi-Wan spoonful after spoonful until he’s unable to eat anymore.

Cody places the bowl somewhere out of reach, then maneuvers Obi-Wan a bit until he’s resting against Cody’s chest. 

The two sit there in silence and watch the rain until both succumb to the call of sleep. 

-------------------

Thunder crashed through the quiet home of Obi-Wan and Cody. Obi-Wan stood off to the side as Cody’s face paled and his smile dropped inch by inch. 

“No,” Cody breathed out and Obi-Wan saw his grip tighten on his phone. “He can’t - I just saw him -” Cody cuts himself off with a choked back sob.

Obi-Wan’s heart aches for his husband. He won’t step in. Not until he knows it would be alright to do so.

“Alright,” Cody whispers. “Thanks. Bye.” Cody hangs up and the hand holding the phone drops from his ear and swings limply at his side. 

“Cody?” Obi-Wan softly calls his husband's name. 

“My brother,” Cody swallows thickly. “Fivel, Fives, he’s dead.” Thunder crashes again and Cody finally allows his tears to fall. 

Obi-Wan’s breath hitches and he’s quick to gather Cody in a hug. 

He’d met Fives a few times. He was kind and welcomed Obi-Wan into the family with a wide smile and some jokes at Cody’s expense.

To hear that he was gone-

Lightning flashed and Obi-Wan pulled Cody closer. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Cody shake with sobs. 

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Lightning flashes and thunder crashes in the quiet home. Cody’s cries are the only thing that breaks the occasional silence.

------------------------

“Obi-Wan?” Cody calls across the house. He’d woken up alone and concern and worry were the first things to cross his mind. 

Then, he heard the thunder and saw the lightning flash through the windows. He knew where Obi-Wan was.

His feet led him to the living room, and sure enough, Obi-Wan was on the couch with a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders and a bag of marshmallows in his hands. Cody smiled at the sight, recalling what Obi-Wan told him the first time he’d seen this exact display.

“It’s something my parents used to do,” Obi-Wan said as he pulled a marshmallow from the bag before popping it into his mouth. “I was always terrified of the lightning, more so than the thunder. They tried to tell me I was safe. It was difficult for me to believe.” Obi-Wan cuddled deeper into Cody’s side, his eyes never leaving the window as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating his features.

“So, to try and calm me, to try and wash away my fear, they brought out marshmallows and said it was like a show. A light show. We sat and watched the lightning while eating marshmallows, and though my fear is gone, it’s something I’ll always do.”

“That sounds nice,” Cody said, looking at Obi-Wan as he’s once again illuminated by the flashes of lightning.

“It is.”

Coming out of the memory, Cody took a few more steps to the couch before speaking.

“May I join you, beloved?” He asks softly.

Obi-Wan turns and smiles tiredly at Cody. “Always, dear one.”

So, Cody joins him on the couch with a blanket of his own and Obi-Wan leaning on him just a bit.

Later, the bag of marshmallows would fall to the ground as Cody and Obi-Wan sleep on the couch and in each other’s embrace.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Eight: Mad to Live, Mad to Talk

The eighth instalment of my Chishiya x OC/reader fic - you can find it here on AO3 too. 

Thank you to the people who always leave likes and comments, seeing/reading them honestly makes my day :) xx

As for what I mentioned in my last update, I’ll add the references as a chapter at the end of the fic (because some of them will give away spoilers!)

Speaking of spoilers, you guys probably connected some dots (a la hoodie)

Sorry, I'll stop talking - enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The drawl of his voice stretched like a lifeline, pulling me back to myself. Back to the bar.

Chishiya was slouched against the counter, idly watching the scene before him. His eyes dropped to the gun, before rising to meet mine. There was nothing in them, not amusement, not even cruelty. Nothing. They were emptier and darker than they’d ever been. And yet at that moment, I had never been more overjoyed to see him.

‘You should probably put that thing away,’ he said. ‘Hatter won’t be too happy if you start messing with her. He’s got high expectations of her.’

The man pushed the gun further into my skin, sending bursts of anxiety through me. I didn’t want him to pull the trigger accidentally. If he shot me in the stomach, it’d be a slow, painful death.

‘You know Chishiya, I’m pretty sick of you interfering all the time. You should stay out of militant business.’

Chishiya eyed the man with disinterest. ‘Militant business. It’s fascinating what you guys do. You take out the trash and dish out the sentence, but you never check the evidence.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ the man snarled. ‘Just shut up and stay out of this.’

‘What I’m saying is that you never bother checking to see if the ‘traitors’ are actually traitors. It’s surprisingly easy to slip a few cards into someone else’s room.’

The tension peaked, and I winced as the fingers around my wrist tightened painfully. Then just as quickly, he released me. He hissed a spew of threats in Chishiya’s face, then stormed off. I hadn’t understood a word, but either way, Chishiya was completely unbothered.

Now that we were alone, he barely even spared me a glance. I half-wondered why he was here. He wouldn’t have come to the bar just to help me. But I also couldn’t picture him as a drunk. As if to answer all the questions floating around in my head, Chishiya signalled to the bartender and said two words.

‘お水をください’ Water, please.

Knowing him, he’d say that alcohol clouds your mind and dulls your rational thinking skills. The bartender set the glass on the counter, but Chishiya didn’t walk away, but sipped his water.

‘Thanks,’ I muttered, although helping me was likely never on his agenda. ‘I’m guessing stuff like that’s pretty common around here.’

‘Well, there are only three rules,’ he said. With one side glance, he zeroed in on the hoodie Kuina had given me. ‘Right now, you’re not allowed to go roaming the city alone because you’re still new, and that makes you a liability. But the next time you’re in a game, you’ll be paired with one of the executives, or someone else with a high rank. If you ask, they’ll go with you to find new clothes.’

I didn’t know how he knew the hoodie wasn’t mine. But I had given up trying to figure out how Chishiya’s mind works.

Before I could ask, he spoke, catching me off guard once again. ‘Come on, Kuina’s waiting for us.’

----------------------------------------------------

That night, I had found out that Kuina and Chishiya were actually friends. Sort of. It was hard to tell. They hung around together and joked like friends, but instinctively I could tell that Kuina didn’t completely trust him. The days passed quickly, and despite the obvious tension between the militants and the other executives, I found myself actually enjoying it. It was hard not to, with hot water and all.

I spent my days pestering Chishiya to teach me Japanese properly (which he never did). And Kuina and I would chat about the real world. She told me about her mother’s sickness, and how she was desperate to get back to the old world so she could look after her properly. But when she asked about my own life, I filtered a lot of things out. I explained how I was visiting Japan with my brother, and how I had been trying to learn Japanese on and off for a few years just so that I could visit. But when it came to my personal life, I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it.

‘話せば長くなる,’ I told her. It’s a long story.

The days seemed to dry up under the heat of the sun, and sure enough, my visa was due to expire.

Sitting cross-legged on my bed under the late afternoon rays, I couldn’t help but feel apprehensive after my last game… my first Hearts game… meeting Niragi and Aguni… the laser tag guns… the ball pit… the teenage girl. It had all collected into one big mass, and my throat tightened at the thought of the blood, the darkness.

No, I tried to tell myself. It’s different now. We’ll be put into teams, and I won’t be alone. We’ll clear the games together.

With slightly more resolve than before, I climbed off the bed and quietly left my room, only my stomach dropped when I saw the nasty surprise waiting for me on the other side of the door.

Niragi was leaning against the opposite wall, and the moment I exited, he shot me a grin. I had no idea what he was doing there, probably militant business, so I nodded at him in acknowledgement, then headed down the hall. I knew something was seriously wrong when I heard his footsteps stalking behind me.

‘Niragi,’ I greeted him.

‘Shorty,’ he replied, now walking beside me. ‘You really shouldn’t ignore people, you know. It’s rude as fuck.’

What does he want with me of all people?

‘私を待っているとは知らなかった,’ I told him honestly. I didn’t know you were waiting for me.

‘Ch, as if. I waited there for half an hour. Where the hell are you off to anyway?’

I held out my bandaged arm. ‘これがまだ痛い。だから医療室ではアンに会う.’ This still hurts, so I’m meeting An in the medical room.

Overall, it had healed pretty well. But after the laser tag game, and being kidnapped by militants, the wound had partially re-opened again.

‘I’ll go with you.’

Why??

My gut instinct was telling me to run away, far away.

We turned a corner, stopping in front of the elevators. When the doors pinged open, the group of girls inside immediately stopped talking once they laid eyes on us. They darted out of the elevator, leaving it empty for Niragi and I to enter. I tried not to feel nervous around him. If he wanted me dead, he’d have just shot me already, so it couldn’t be that.

‘どうして待っていた?’ I asked, slowly. How come you were waiting?

Asking Niragi questions felt like a life-or-death situation. Last time I was rude to him he kicked me in the spine. The man was like a loaded gun; he had to be handled with care.

However, he didn’t reply, and the lingered between us until the elevator stopped at the basement floor. We headed down a long, dark hallway, with exposed cables and pipes suspended from the ceiling. This was starting to feel like a really, really bad idea. Seeing the medical room door, I sped up instinctively, but Niragi’s hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back and yanking me around. The movement sent shooting pains down through my injured arm.

‘Chishiya,’ Niragi said, eyes glinting with malice. ‘You’ve become pretty chummy with him recently.’

Wait… what?

‘That’s not…’ I hated the way my voice stuttered. ‘そうじゃない.’ That’s not it….

He clearly wasn’t buying it. ‘Tell me what he’s up to. He’s an arrogant little shit and I know he’s up to something.’

Niragi’s grip was too tight, way too tight, and I could barely think straight through the pain. ‘違うよ,’ I insisted. You’re wrong.

‘Am I? I don’t think so, Shorty. You’d better tell me now before I put a bullet in you.’

I didn’t know whether I was scared or annoyed. My heart hammered in my chest, but I was getting pretty sick of his ridiculous questions. I tore away from his hold, inspecting the sleeve for any spots of blood that could’ve seeped through.

‘Stop doing that! クイナのパーカーを台無しにしたくない.’ I don’t want to ruin Kuina’s hoodie.

His brow furrowed a little at this, but I ignored it. Someone like him probably didn’t care about getting blood on his clothes.

I didn’t know how to say what I meant in Japanese, so all I could do was tell him in English. ‘You’re right about one thing. Chishiya’s awful. But you’re wrong about everything else. He can’t stand the sight of me, except when he’s watching me suffer. So even if he did have some kind of plan hatched up, he wouldn’t bother telling me.’

Niragi pulled away and stood up fully. Despite his visible irritation, he was listening all the same.

Perhaps he knows a little bit of the language?

‘And even then,’ I continued, ‘if he was planning something, why would he bother? You know as well as anyone he’s just in this for his own survival and being here at the Beach is his best shot. It wouldn’t make sense.’

A dangerous look worked its way onto his features. I thought right then and there that he’d attack me, kick me with his boot like he’d done before. But he did the exact opposite. With one hand, he twirled his fingers in a strand of my hair, before softly tucking it behind my ear.

I held my breath as he leaned in. ‘Everything you just said,’ he whispered, ‘is complete bullshit.’

Then pulling away quicker than I could flinch, he readjusted his rifle on his shoulder and took off back down the hall. Then he suddenly stopped, as if remembering something, and looked at me over his shoulder.

‘That hoodie you’re wearing… it’s Chishiya’s.’

-------------------------------------------------------

I must’ve looked like I’d seen a ghost, because when I finally entered the medical room, An immediately asked me if I was feeling ill. I tried telling her that I was perfectly fine, but she insisted on taking a bunch of tests to make sure I wasn’t going into septic shock. I couldn’t tell her that it was closer to actual shock.

Even when I finally left the medical room, I still couldn’t shake it off. Except now, the surprise had worn away, leaving sheer humiliation in its place.

Did Kuina steal it from his room?  

When he met me at the bar, he must’ve seen it and wondered where I’d gotten it from. And when he had mentioned asking one of the executives to go shopping with me… he had probably assumed I’d been in his room and taken it.

Oh god…

I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. I wanted to scream and tell him I’m sorry. I wanted to rip the hoodie off and push it as far away from me as I could. But I couldn’t. I still didn’t feel comfortable being so exposed.

‘It’s fine,’ I tried to convince myself, ‘everything’s fine.’ I got into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor.

My visa’s due to expire tonight, so I can get a new one for myself. I’ll just explain everything to him. It’s almost game time anyway, so he might be in the lobby.

As the elevator doors opened, I wiped any tears away with my hands, careful not to dirty the sleeves, and headed to the lobby. It was packed with Beach residents, either wishing their friends luck or preparing for the games ahead. I found the little table at the front and took the slip of paper with my name on it.

Group Two.

Then I stepped back, leaning against the wall as my eyes searched the crowds. Sure enough, I spotted a white hood, the thin tendrils of grey-blond hair visible beneath. I waited until he took his slip of paper before I stepped forward.

But there was no need. His eyes locked onto mine from across the room, as if he had clocked onto my presence immediately without showing it. He trudged through the masses, coming to a stop in front of me. I couldn’t help but rub my arms nervously.

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out, ‘Kuina gave me this hoodie, and I assumed it was hers and that she was letting me use it. But I just found out from Niragi that it’s actually yours. I didn’t steal it or anything, and I’ve definitely never been in your room. I’m so sorry, I had no idea.’

Chishiya didn’t seem surprised at all, or if he was, he was an expert at hiding it. ‘I know,’ he said, at last. ‘You couldn’t have known where my room was anyway.’

Thinking about it, he had a point. When I started wearing this, I hadn’t even left my own room, so I couldn’t have been in Chishiya’s.

‘I guess you’re right.’

I felt his warmth against my side as he leaned on the wall next to be me. ‘But what I told you at the bar that night still stands,’ he said. ‘Tonight, you’ll get the chance to go looking for any clothes or personal items you want.’

‘Once I get some of my own clothes, I’ll wash this and give it back to you, I promise’ I told him. ‘I just need to find out who the executive in my group is.’

‘It’s me.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because the executives create the groups,’ he said. ‘And I happen to be supervising you. Normally, when a new member arrives, we do an aptitude test. We observe them in a game to test their abilities, but I’ve already vouched for your abilities, and there were only two executives with an expiring visa.’

‘That’s….’ I trailed off, then something clicked. ‘Wait, who was the other executive?’

Ignoring my question, he went on. ‘Since I’ve already seen your abilities, your only test will be to survive. If you can do that, I’ll go with you to get whatever supplies you need.’

I tried to keep the smile from my face, but I couldn’t hold it back. ‘Sounds like a deal.’

‘Time for the games!’ a voice called out, excitedly, and the whole room erupted into cheers. The masses of Beach members piled through the doors, trying to find their assigned cars and groups.

At the same time, I hadn’t moved at all. I couldn’t keep my eyes from Chishiya’s. He was looking back into mine with that same calculating emptiness. I could see the cogs turning, but I didn’t know what they were turning for.

Then as quickly as it happened, the moment was gone as he left, disappearing into the crowd.

[i-did]

Do you have any thoughts on the way “fuck you Nora” impacts things like ships, in particular the recent sentiment that andreil is toxic and other fanon ships are objectively better and healthier that’s in pockets of the fandom. Like I’ve definitely seen it in the Kevin-centric niche the most but even outside of that there’s this belief that things like jerejean and renison would be very soft and healthy when there’s no proof of that. It’s almost like plausible deniability because (1/2)

andreil has canon strengths and flaws that are irrefutable, so when they ship things like Jerejean kevjean that don’t interact they feel a license to make it “better” because they know better than Nora if that makes sense. And Kandrew and kevineil are pitched as being healthier than andreil, among fans who say they wish the kandreil draft was canon where Nora has said multiple times, even when she talks about how fun they were to write that k/a were “obsessive” (2/2)

Yeah I definitely think “fuck you Nora” can play into it, sort of like how for a while most marriage or “I love you” HC posts started or ended with “fuck you Nora”. 

I think andreil are such a unique relationship dynamic of two very “difficult and violent” people ending up together, so I understand why they also get called toxic and flawed a lot. Tbh I can’t really see Andrew or Neil with anyone else, I think they fit together well and what works and is healthy for them just won't work or be healthy for everyone else. 

I also agree in the plausible deniability aspect, sometimes I think these fans take these characters and names and general situations, and make them into OC’s and/or props to fulfill troupes. The nature of fan creation is to play around with canon.

I personally don’t think the average college boy would be emotionally prepared or equipped enough to be a healthy pairing for a recently escaped lifelong human trafficking and cult survivor who just narrowly survived. And I don’t think Kevin who held power over Jean in the nest at number 2 instead of 3 as well as Riko’s partner, would be healthy either. Kevin himself talks about how it was different for him than for Jean, it was worse for Jean since he was a “lower rank.” I think the idea Kevjean is better than Kevin and Thea comes partially from the belief that gay=better in fandom, and the ‘pair the spare’ mentality. 

I also personally think that both Kandrew and Daysten/Kevineil are not good fits either. I’ve talked about it before and explained why I think Kandrew is unhealthy and am not really interested in exploring it, but for Kevineil I personally think they… fight too much I guess. You get in arguments with your friends as well as partners, but the way they affect you and power works can be very different, and the type of arguments are also typically different. I think they're fine as friends, but I think they would need a lot more outside of canon growth and development to be a fit romantically. I don’t care what others want to ship or explore, I just personally don’t see much appeal with either dynamic. 

I think people who say “this would be healthier” are usually imagining their ideas and HC’s and version of the character rather than the canon one, as well as just… their personal idea of what is “healthier” and what a good relationship “looks like”.

Also you briefly mention Renesion as being depicted/perceived as “softer and healthier” too. From what I see of Renesion its very… just kinda there. Usually there isn't a lot of development or they're just sort of in the background of another fic. The Renee and Allison in canon would not pair well together imo either, I also mention this somewhere in an earlier ask as well. I'm all for wlw pairs and ships, and I've read like a decently long Renesion fic my friend @wishbonetea wrote called “The Gracekeepers” where they do actually have chemistry, but are growing differently than they do in canon. In canon Renee is a “bad person trying very hard to be a good person.” she’s anti-negative talk and avoids speaking ill of others or expressing negative or harsh opinions. Allison has recently escaped a stuffy rich people environment where all their words are cloaked and all compliments are backhanded and no one really says what they’re thinking, Allison’s personal growth from this is to let it out and say what she really thinks, who give a fuck if they think she's rude or unladylike, it's her feelings. Also Renee’s past is often just depicted as this cool thing rather than something very truamatizing that she struggles with, makes it hard for her to genuinely connect with others and be her ‘real self’, and Allison's on-again off-again boyfriend just died, and she was there the night it happened. I haven't seen any fics actually explore these topics, just kinda ship them since “pair the spare.” (if any of you know any fics that address this or focus on it lmk)

I'm not going to hold their chemistry to a higher standard than mlm ships tho, I've seen people ship almost all the male characters together in the tags but obviously don’t do as much content for the women, which is a shame because some of the fox ladies have interesting potential chemistry. Dan and Renee have a very interesting dynamic in the EC and Nora herself said if she were to ship the fox ladies it would be Dan with Renee. I personally have high standards for ‘shipping’ I guess, sometimes I vaguely think “oh this could be interesting” but rarely do I actively explore it. I'm a pretty canon focused consumer, I never watched supernatural thinking ‘dustiel’ or even picked up on the queer-baiting until much later. I don't care about shipping the way most fans seem to. I like to imagine Andrew and Neil meeting in their late 60’s or so, or even not meeting the other and being single and having fulfilling lives that way too, which is not a common way to ‘show affection’ to characters. 

I agree with you and think it comes down to plausible deniability and this urge to ‘defy Nora’–be all edgy to an author who stopped listening–as well as pair the spare and fandom culture of shipping at its core. Shipping is seen as a good/better treatment of the characters and “what they deserve” a lot.

[darling-i-read-it]

Buffet Froid

1x10

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, mental health problems 

Author’s Note: The art of making it look like i like hannibal when he annoyed the fuck out of me this episode. Also it is so hard to write this cause my HEART i just wanna hug will UGH

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine. 

Official Episode Summary : Two victims' faces are similarly mutilated. For the first time, Will contaminates a crime scene thinking he committed the first murder and an MRI shows he suffers from Advanced Encephalitis.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll​

(not my gif)

You sat in the car. You were outside of a crime scene, the house looking ominous as it loomed over what had happened inside. There were so many people outside, taking pictures and talking. Will was inside. You had driven him, per his request. You usually didn’t come to the crime scenes but they had been acting off, like he was almost on autopilot when he asked you to take him. Your fingers drummed on the steering wheel as you stared out, trying to catch glimpses of people you knew. 

You saw Bev walk out quickly making her way to the car. You rolled down the window and she shook her head a bit as she walked up.

“You should go talk to Will,” she said. 

“What happened?” Bev looked back at the house, at Jack who had just exited the house. You looked at her, the worried look on her face evident.

“He contaminated the crime scene. He’s never done that before,” Beverly said. “His hands were around her throat.” 

You were surprised to hear that, rightly so. You unlocked the car and got out, walking across the yard beside Beverly who was quick to give anyone a look that even thought about protesting to your presence. Will had come out when you weren’t looking. He was talking to Jack.

“I got lost in the reconstruction. Just for a second. Just a blink,” Will was saying as you walked up to him. Jack barley took notice of your presence but Will looked at you, surprised to see you there by his eyes. He didn’t protest it though. You knew before he could tell you. He had lost some time.

“I know you don’t like to be a subject of concern, but consider me officially concerned,” Jack said. You scoffed and Jack glanced at you but didn’t show any emotion. 

“Officially,” Will said.

“About time,” you muttered. 

“Wait in the car,” Jack said to you. You raised your hands in defiance.

“I’m here on a warning from Beverly,” you said, glancing at Will. He shook his head.

“I’ll be there soon,” he muttered. You nodded and he reached out to grab your hand and for a second he held it, quietly, looking confused and worried and scared. Your hand slipped from his and you walked over to the car.

“Thought the reason you have me seeing Dr. Lecter and not an FBI psychiatrist is so my mental well-being stays unofficial,” Will muttered, watching you go. 

“Have I broken you?” Jack asked. “Is your girlfriend right this time?” 

“Do you have anybody that does this better unbroken then I do broken?” Will asked. “And she’s always right.” 

“Fear makes you rude, Will,” Jack said as Will walked to the car. His hands shook. He always seemed to be shaking. He stooped at the drivers window and you looked at him, elbow resting on the open window and your hand propped up by your palm. 

“We should go to Hannibal after this,” you muttered. 

“Why are you here?” he asked. It wasn’t rude. He was only asking. 

“You asked me to drive you.” He nodded, glancing back at the house. “I have to look at the body again.” A beat of silence. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” 

“Gutting a fish,” he whispered. You nodded. He had gone fishing yesterday though.

“We’ll go to Hannibal’s together.”

“Sit in,” he whispered, referring to the session. 

“I will.” He nodded and walked back to the house. You fought the tears threatening to fall from seeing him in so much confusion.

-

“I can’t remember seeing her dead body before I saw myself killing her,” Will said. He glanced at you sheepishly. You sat on Hannibal’s desk which was your resident spot when you sat into sessions. You didn’t do it often and you only did it with Will’s request or permission. He wanted a witness today, to whatever it is that Hannibal had prepared for him.

“Those memories sank out of sight, yet you’re aware of their absence,” Hannibal inquired. Will was pacing around the room, his mind on fire. 

“They left a slick on the surface of my mind where they’re supposed to be,” he said. 

“Where you hope they’re supposed to be, but fear they never were.” Will looked haunted. The false memories made him reel. The dying human under his hands had felt so real.

“There’s a grandiosity in the violence I imagined that feels more real than what I knew is true,” he said. 

“What do you know to be true?” Hannibal asked.

“I know I didn’t kill her. Couldn’t have. But I remember cutting into her. I remember watching her die.” 

“You must overcome these delusions that are disguising your reality. What savage delusions does this killer have?” Hannibal questioned. He was walking around the room as well, but in smaller spaces.

“It wasn’t savage. It was lonely...desperate...sad,” Will said, his eyes glossed over. 

“Are you lonely Will?” Hannibal asked. Will shook his head then paused. Your heart sank and you hung off his answer. 

“No. That was the killer,” he said. “But I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked through me, past me. Like I was a stranger,” he whispered. 

“What could this be? It has to be something that we can treat,” you said. Will looked at you and nodded.

“It could be a blood clot. Or a tumor. Just an answer is better than anything,” Will said. Hannibal glanced at you and Will as you stared at each other, nodding in agreement.  Your emotions hung off Will’s. It didn’t matter if you were an empath or not. You knew Will well enough to know when enough was enough. 

“I can recommend a neurologist. But if it isn’t physiological then you have to accept what you’re struggling with is mental illness,” Hannibal said. 

“It isn’t,” you whispered. 

Hannibal looked only at you as you seemed to bore holes into the ceiling now. You had a dangerous knowledge of Will Graham. Hannibal thought that might be a problem.

-

You were with Hannibal and Will into the medical office. You held Will’s hand and he held yours like a lifeline. You sat at chairs beside each other that happened to be far enough away where his hand slipped out of yours. He held them now in his lap, fingers fidgeting.

“What did the headaches start? In earnest?” Dr. Sutcliffe asked. Will glanced at you.

“Two to three months ago,” Will said and you nodded in agreement.

“About the time Will went back into the field,” you said. 

“When I met him,” Hannibal added.

“The hallucinations?” Sutcliffe asked. 

“I don’t know exactly when they started. I just slowly became aware that I might not be dreaming.” 

Hannibal walked with Sutcliffe behind a large piece of glass. You stayed with Will for a few minutes, taking his clothes in his hand as he put on the hospital dress. He let out a small sigh as you looked at him.

“What if nothing comes up?” he asked. 

“We’ll deal with that when it comes.” 

Will looked at you and you looked at him. He was ready to go but he waited. Eyes glancing around your body wildey.

“If nothing comes up than I am, by definition, likely insane,” he told you quietly. “And if-”

“I’m not going to go anywhere,” you said. Will looked broken. He looked tired. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing the back of it. “I love you.”

His breath seemed to relax. He knew you but he wasn’t sure that when he woke up you would be gone. He might be seriously ill but knowing you were there still made him feel better. 

“I love you too.” You kissed him and he kissed you back desperately. 

“Go get your brain scanned now. You have lipstick on your lips,” you said as you pulled away. He laughed very subtly adn shrugged, wiping it off with his hand.

“I don’t think it’ll mess up the results.” 

“You never know.”

-

You stood beside Will again before the doctor. He pointed to the brain scan. 

“We didn’t find anything abnormal. No vascular malformations, no tumors. No swelling or bleeding. No evidence of stroke. Nothing wrong with you neurologically,” the doctor said. Will’s face was clearly troubled. “Usually when I tell a patient that, they’re happy to hear it.” 

“So... what I’m experiencing is psychological?” Will asked.

“Brain scans can’t diagnose a mental disorder. They can only rule out medical illnesses, like a tumor, that can cause similar symptoms.” 

“And there’s no chance you’ve mixed up the photos? Or maybe the machine was malfunctioning? I hear that happens,” you said stiffly. 

“Y/N,” Will muttered but you shook your head.

“We can do more tests if it’ll make you feel better. Take some blood samples, but I imagine they'll be just as inconclusive.” 

For some reason you doubted the truth in that but you didn’t voice it. 

-

You walked into Jack Crawford's office. He took off his glasses and looked up at you, clearly not excited to see you.

“Does Will need something?” Jack asked.

“Stability.  A new brain perhaps,” you said. Jack looked you up and down and he knew that you meant business.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice monotone.

“Will’s always been a bit odd. Always. It was what drew me to him in the first place,” you said. 

“Listen-”

“Shut up.” He shut up. “When Will went back into the field it was because you wanted him to. Will wants to please people. He wants to save lives. He wants to use his gift for good but for each life he saves a little piece of him is burned and singed. You broke Will Jack Crawford and I won’t let you forget it,” you said evenly, looking down at him.

“Do you have a life outside of Will Graham?” 

“I did before you broke him and now I have to advocate where he cannot.” 

“We were never going to be friends,” Jack said.

“No, no we weren’t.” 

-

Come midnight when Will hadn’t arrived home you woke up. You were getting a suspicious amount of sleep. You had gone to bed, assuming he would be back soon after you fell asleep. Jack sometimes had him out late hours and he was likely to be back. But when you woke up and he was still gone you started to panic a bit. 

You calmed yourself, trying to reason that he was maybe still at work. You called his cell. No answer. 

You got up out of bed and put on some clothes. With him sleepwalking, losing time, he could be anywhere. You told yourself to add a tracker to his phone.

You got into the car and drove the streets for a few minutes. He wasn’t there. You then drove to Hannibal’s which was the only other place your mind could come up with. You knocked on the door at about 12:30, shaking from the cold and worry. It took Hannibal a moment to come to the door but he eventually did, wearing his robe and rubbing his eyes.

“I thought you were Will,” he admitted. 

“Will hasn’t come home yet. He won’t pick up the phone but I’m guessing he’s not here,” you said, looking past him.

“Have you tried the crime scene?” he questioned. You shook your head but that must be where he was. It had to be. 

“No but I’ll go there now. I’m sorry to wake you.” 

“Don’t apologize.” He was about to shut the door when you turned around but he stopped. “He’ll be there. I’m sure your expertise in finding strays will help,” Hannibal said simply. You nodded and walked back to the car.

On your way there you got a call from Will. 

“Where the f-”

“I just sent you the address. Come quickly.” He hung up and you did as you were told, driving faster to the destination you were already going to.  You were there in under ten minutes from where you had been on your drive and you got out, walking quickly up to Will.

“I thought you were dead!” you yelled, throwing your arms around him. He shook his head but let you hold him. 

“Not yet,” he muttered. “I called Beverly to help me figure out the crime scene,” he said. 

“Then why did you tell me to come?” 

“Emotional support.” You nodded and held him tighter.

-

You woke up with a start. Will was thrashing beside you and you put your arm on his side instinctively. You couldn’t tell what had woken you up. It could be anything. The weather, your dreams but you felt like it was something out. You looked around for any disturbances. The dogs were still sleeping but you got up and looked around, trying to find what had woken you. 

You walked through the kitchen and the downstairs but you couldn’t find anything. When you were back in the bedroom Will was awake, standing up.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“Something woke me up. I was trying to figure out what.” You walked back over to him and back into bed. 

“Probably wind,” he muttered. You put your arms around him as he got back in too and he put his head on your chest. You kissed his curls. 

“Probably,” you whispered.

-

Will went in for more tests a few days later. He looked up at you as you stood in the same spots you had, with you holding his clothes as he stripped them. 

“Jack talked to me,” he said.

“Proceed with caution,” you whispered and he chuckled.

“He thinks I stayed in the job because of the stability. That Jack created stability for me, a foundation.” 

“If he keeps going on like that you’re going to be investigating his murder,” you muttered bitterly. “Would you still date me if I murdered someone?” He shrugged.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. I mean, I’d have to consider it.” 

“Wrong answer Graham,” you said laughing lightly. He loved these moments. Moments where it was just laughing, joking. 

“I would date you if you killed someone. I mean I might have to turn you in but prison can’t be that hard on a relationship,” he said. You nodded.

“Right back at you bubba,” you whispered.

“I have killed someone.” 

“And look at you, still a free man.”

After the tests Will walked around, trying to find you or the doctor or someone. You were waiting for him and you walked up with his clothes in hand.

“Have you seen Sutcliffe?” Will asked. You shook your head.

“Not since earlier,” you admitted. “Let’s go find him.” You held his clothes in hand as you walked through the hospital. You peaked in rooms and eventually found Sutcliffes office. You pushed open the door as it was ajar. 

You gasped and Will grabbed you and put himself between you and the body, bleeding from a chunk that had been taken out of his face.

“Don’t look,” he whispered. 

“I can,” you muttered. “Call Bev.” 

-

The FBI came soon after. Beverly gave Will a look over, Jack concerned he might have had something to do with the murdedr.

“He was with me until he went in. And I would have seen him leave,” you promised. Bev nodded. 

“You’re clean. You couldn’t have done this without getting something on you and there’s nothing on you,” Beverly said.

“I don’t feel clean,” Will whispered. 

“Murder weapon has the same diseased or damaged tissue on it that we found at Beth LeBeau’s house,” Jimmy explained aloud.

“What connection does this guy have to the first victim?” Will let out a sigh.

“Just me.”

-

Will woke up and you were already sitting up. He followed your gaze that was at where one of the dogs growled at something under the bed. He grabbed your hand and shook his head.

‘Stay,’ he whispered. You shook your head vigorously and he nodded, getting off the bed and looking underneath. He slid underneath and you leaned your head over the bed, heart pounding in your ears.

“I see you, Georgia,” Will said under the bed. You couldn't see his face. There was a woman under your bed. “Think of who you are. It’s midnight. You’re in Wolf Trap, Virginia. Your name is Georgia Madchen. You are not alone.” 

“Am I alive…?” came a voice, a raspy whisper. Will nodded.

-

You stood with Will in the hospital room, looking down at the living body of the woman who had slept under your bed. You held Will’s hand as he glanced over her. 

“She’ll recover,” Will said.

“Hopefully she’ll stay out of our bed,” you whispered.

1x11

[pradaksj]

7 Rings | 01

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ genre: richboy!taehyung | blackmailer!reader | infiltration au | slow burn | eventual smut | angst | fluff 

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 12,000+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, terminal illness, this chapter basically just sets the foundation of this story up so sorry if it’s a little boring 

♛ summary:  In need of money for your mom’s medical bills, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, blackmail, get your money, and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em. ❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter 

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

“Why Y/N?” his voice cracks, the look of betrayal evidently on his face. 

"I never—" you sobbed. Your throat felt swollen and you stuttered, pitifully trying to speak the words in your head. "I never meant for it to go this far," you said at last. 

How did you end up here? Where did everything go wrong? When had the rabbit hole simply become too deep? The sounds of several voices echoed in your head. 

You could hear him calling your name, begging  no demanding an answer, but all you could do was stare off into space, thinking of everything that led up this exact moment. 

If only you could turn back time. 

3 Months Ago.

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Oh the irony.

Sighing, you turned off the radio of your run-down 2006 grey Hyundai, which every morning you had to cross your fingers and hope that the engine wouldn't burn out on you. The rumbling sounds of the engine starting up never failing to catch the attention of pedestrians walking by. 

After several frustrating minutes of struggling to parallel park, you sat in your car and allowed yourself to sulk for a moment. Another day, another dollar to make. Even if it meant having to deal with rude and entitled customers all day, your school loans plus your bills just weren’t going to pay themselves off anytime soon. 

“One day at a time Y/N, just one day at a time,” you reassured yourself, placing on your mandatory logoed hat, and mentally preparing yourself for another day. If only you were rich.

Friday Night.

Despite being tired from work, visiting your mom was something you always felt like you needed to do every so often, plus her homemade meals were quite often a bonus considering how lazy you’d often get to cook food for yourself. In fact, the pizza shop near your apartment not only having your order, but voice completely memorized for whenever you called. The young employee quickly interrupting your greeting with a, “Pepperoni pizza, half sausage, half Hawaiian, and a pink lemonade?” surprisingly no longer offended you as much as it would back in the beginning. 

Your mom certainly didn’t mind the company as it inevitably got quite lonely living by herself, but she knew she couldn’t smother you forever as much as she would love to. College was a necessity for you in her eyes, a ticket to a better life that wouldn’t require you to scrub the floors of the rich as she did. 

And maybe it was because you were more mature nowadays, but conversations with her had now also seemed to be much more meaningful. Well that and the two of you didn’t butt heads as much as you used to compared to when you were nothing but a temperamental teenager whose biggest life crisis was whether your crush glanced at you in the hallway or not. 

Of course the boundary and respect of a mother-daughter relationship was always there, some of your jokes sometimes garnering a “I’m not your friend, I’m your mother” speech from her, but nonetheless your relationship with her in a way was very much like a friendship. It seemed as if with every visit you learned new things about her, the different stories she shared with you from her youth always having an underlying lesson that you could apply to your own life.

“I really needed this,” you said while chewing on a mouthful of bulgogi. Small stains of sauce at the corners of your mouth, as your mom’s cooking never failed to make you feel like a little kid. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her now twenty one year old daughter who in her heart was always going to be just a little girl.

She got up from the small wooden dining chair, picking up any leftover dinnerware as she prepared to start washing dishes, all while at the same time listening to you as you babbled on about work.

“I mean really, how hard is it to say thank you,” you rolled your eyes, dramatically sticking your chopstick into your bowl, as you were recalling one of today’s customers who kept snapping their fingers at you as if you were their very own personal servant. 

“Well it’s a good thing it’s summer, you don’t have to worry about college so mu—” The sound of glass shattering on the floor abruptly caught your attention. You looked up at your mom who was now dead silent, her face which was now extremely pale, and her breathing which had suddenly became erratic. What you didn't know was that your mom had suddenly felt as if the world spinning, the feeling of disorientation becoming too overwhelming.

“Mom? Are you okay?” you quickly got up, grabbing your mom by the forearm in a means of trying to redirect her from the kitchen to the couch at an attempt to get her to relax. You unlocked your phone, fingers slightly trembling as you called the ambulance. 

“Just breathe okay. You’re gonna be okay,” you kept trying to reassure your mom as you waited for them to pick up which at the moment felt like an eternity. Your leg was bouncing up and down in anticipation as you kept glancing at your mom who was trying to keep her breathing in control and her eyes open. “Do not close your eyes on me, you hear me?” your voice began to feel shaky, eyelids brimming with tears, the pulsating feeling of panic flowing through your veins.

“Hello, what’s your emergency?”

You hated hospitals. Who didn’t? The smell, the yellow-toned ugly lighting, and the feeling of anxiousness the whole place gave people. For you though, the hospital was a reminder of tragedy, a reminder that whatever comes in here never walks out the same whether you’re a patient or not. Fifteen years ago, it made your mom a widow left having to pay remaining hospital bills all while having to raise her six year old daughter.

So here you were now, fifteen years later sitting at her bedside waiting for her to wake up, stuck in the same position she once was. You stared up at the ceiling counting each time the overhead lights flickered as you tried not to get so lost into your thoughts. Everything had happened in what felt like was the blink of an eye, guilt was beginning to seep in. Why hadn’t noticed anything earlier? Maybe in some miraculous way you could’ve prevented this, you thought to yourself. 

You turned on the small TV that the hospital provided in every room, flipping through several channels hoping you'd find something that would be able to distract you.

“Shut up and kis—” K-drama. Next.

“Watch ou—” Action movie. Next.

“Kim Taehyung gets physical with paparazzi, the heir to Kim Enterprises spotted —” but before you could place your full attention to the entertainment newscast you turned your attention to your mother who was now beginning to shift in her sleep, her eyes now slowly opening, clearly in a daze as to where she was and how she got there.

“Hey ma,” you softly whispered, giving her a warm smile as you held her hand tighter, beginning to rub small circles on her palm.

“W-what happened Y/N?” 

“You fain-”

“Ah you’re finally up,” you turned towards the door, seeing who you assumed was the doctor in charge now walking in. 

For a doctor she appeared quite young, her petite figure and wrinkle free skin a defining factor in her appearance. You formally greeted her, a wave of anxiousness now overcoming you. “Dr. Whitney Han'' is what her name tag read, but it was what was in small font beneath her name that made your heart feel as if it feel down to the pit of your stomach. “Oncologist,” meaning doctors who specialize in the study and treatment for cancer.

Faintly clearing her throat, “Hello, I’m Dr. Han,” she introduced herself, reaching her hand out for you to shake. She smiled at your mom who was still in a slightly groggy state, but aware nonetheless. “So Ms. Y/L/N, you seemed to have suffered from what we call a syncope, meaning an episode of passing out, it’s usually caused by insufficient blood flow to the brain, a result of hypotension,” you nodded following along with what she was saying,

“When episodes such as these occur, it tends to mean that there’s an underlying cause and so we decided to run some tests on your mother to cross out any possibilities, and well there’s never an easy way to tell anybody this...” her gaze lowered for just a slight moment until she quickly regained her composure, but it was just enough for you to just know. She continued with what you assumed she’s told hundred’s if not thousand’s of patients in her career. For her it’d be just another day of work, but for you it felt as if the world stopped.

Whatever she had said after couldn’t be heard because the only thing you could hear was the sound of your blood pounding in your ears, and an intense beating against your chest. You could see her mouth moving, but nothing seemed to be coming out, everything suddenly becoming a ringing noise to your ears. 

Fight or flight is what they call it. When a stressful situation triggers you to either run or stay, and at this moment you just wanted to run, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew that at this exact moment, everything was going to change because whether you liked it or not, the carousel never stops turning. 

You slowly glanced at your mom who seemed to be in the same paralyzed state as you, her face stoic of any possible emotion. 

“With treatment chances of survival are of course immensely improved, the treatments are harsh, but taking your mom’s age and clean medical history I think she can definitely handle it,” Dr. Han tried to give you a small smile, but even she knew situations like these were always tough. No matter how many years of experience she had, the countless tragedies and rare miracles she’d witnessed in her career, every case was different. Her job as a doctor was to make people like you and your mother feel more comfortable with their situation, but never make any promises. 

“Now treatments are done in intervals, and will probably have to be done starting from now until about three to six months which is when we usually see improvement, meaning you will have to permanently stay here for that time. From what I’ve seen with past patients is that treatment can be very costly  without insurance, and well I know a lot of physicians don’t like to talk about expenses with patients, but—”

“My mom doesn’t have health insurance. I know,” you harshly broke the deafening silence, interrupting her before she could continue, not wanting to hear anymore of her pity. You had no reason to give her attitude, no reason to direct your anger towards her, it wasn’t like she caused any of this to happen, but you just couldn’t help it. The atmosphere in the air was stiff, any next word out of her mouth and you’d probably go ballistic. “C-can we just have a moment alone? So we could just um process everything,” you stammered, lacking to make any eye contact with her. 

“I’ll be right outside in the hallway, let me know if you have any questions,” she gave you and your mom one last tiny sad smile before making her way out.

Once the door closed, you thought that you’d be able to breathe properly again, but the same heavy feeling on your chest remained. It wasn’t until you felt a grab at your hand that you were brought back to reality.

“Hey we are going to be just fine Y/N,” your mom whispered to you as it was now she who was rubbing your hand in an effort to comfort you. A weak smile appearing on your face, of course your mom would be comforting you despite it being her who's sick. “Come on lay down with me,” she then began to scoot to the side in her already tiny hospital bed, trying to make space for you.

And for a small everlasting moment you felt like a little girl again as you hugged your mom, tears silently falling from the corner of your eyes, the soft sound of her humming comforting you. You let your head relax onto her shoulder, your breathing somehow finally under control. The question of “What are we going to do?” slowly disappearing from your mind, letting yourself drift off to sleep in the arms of your mom.

Sunday Morning.

In the following days after, you had helped your mom move her necessities into the hospital room that she’d be staying in until her treatment was over and she could be discharged. You had contacted your landlord informing him that you’d be cancelling your lease as you now had plans to move back home. The only reason you had your own small apartment in the first place was because your mom thought it’d be better to live near campus and not waste so much money on gas going from campus to your job and then back to your moms place. Despite her protests on the cancellation of your lease, you had done it anyway.

“Ma someone has to live there, or else it’d just be useless to continue paying rent. We can’t just leave it empty for the whole year, someone could break in or even try to live there for the while that you’re not there. I mean imagine walking in on some strang—”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want you living there, and move the decoration a little more to your right,” she says while making a motion with her hand as a way to guide you. For the past hour you had been putting up flimsy removable decorations all across the beige hospital walls at an attempt to make her room look less depressing than it already was. 

“I already told you, I’ll be just fine. I already asked Yuna to help me get my stuff, and you’re acting like everyone in the neighborhood doesn’t know who I am, and it’s a lot faster to get here from home. I just need to start looking for a second job in the meant—”

“Ah about that,” your moms sudden interruption causing you to stop what you were doing , now tilting your head in confusion, “I called Mr. Choi and told him about me no longer being able to work for the meantime that I'm here and well that’s when he mentioned something about going on vacation, and needing a temporary assistant… and that he needed someone to run some business like errands for him and well I may have mentioned you and that you’re majoring in business and how you’d love to work for him…” she tried zooming through the last part but you had heard it all.

“Wait what!”

Mr. Choi was your mom’s boss, having been his housekeeper for as long as you could remember. Endless long nights of making sure whatever multimillion dollar penthouse he or his other snobby friends owned looked squeaky clean, just to be paid like any other minimum-wage worker minus the tip.

You could still vividly remember the nights when you were younger being babysat by your neighbor, anxiously waiting for your mom's knock on the door signifying that she was back home, and just how exhausted she’d look as she took off her housekeeping shoes, too tired to even look at the pile of sealed letters on the sturdy coffee table. A constant reminder that she was going to be working for that man for a very long time. 

For a long time you had wondered how she was able to do it all. Were there nights where she felt like just giving up and simply letting everything she’d work so hard for to collapse? 

Your mind flashing back to the night before you moved out for college. It was about 3 in the morning and anxiety had been keeping you up the whole night, the fear of moving somewhere you were unfamiliar with creeping into your mind. The sound of muffled tears coming from the living room snapping you back into reality. Slowly you had gotten up from bed, opening your door wide enough to leave a crack that you could visibly see through, desperately trying to avoid having the door loudly creak. 

And so there she was with a wax stick candle in her hand, quietly whispering to herself a small recital, the sound of several wailed “thank you’s” coming out of her mouth, grateful that she had made it this far. The old framed picture of your dad on the coffee table making it hard for you to fight back your own tears. 

Nights where she was sure your landlord would knock at any moment to kick you guys out because the rent was going to be late, nights where she’d silently cry herself to sleep because it killed her to say no to something you desperately wanted from the store, and nights where she merely missed the love of her life. Doubting herself as to whether she was doing a good job in raising you, simply wishing she could have someone give her some reassurance. And having to hide those feelings because she didn’t want her daughter to find out that the person she had once given a “Happy Mother’s Day to the Strongest Mommy in the World” card with a colorful doodle of herself in a cape was in fact not strong at all, but acted like she was because she simply loved her daughter too much. 

And so that night instead of going back to sleep, you slowly made your way into the living room, silently enveloping her in a hug, no words having to be spoken. Promising yourself that you were going to work hard in college, and get each other out of the small cramped apartment to which you guys called home. Life of course had different plans, which brings you back to one of the causes of your stress and worries: Mr. Choi. 

Oh how you despised that man. One would think a rich man like him would’ve offered by now to pay for all of your mom’s expenses considering the years of servitude, but no. He only fed into the stereotype you already had of the rich, the only people they cared for were themselves.

“So you’re basically telling me I have to quit my job by tonight, and do something I have absolutely no experience with?”

“Yes! You need to start getting all the experience you can get in the world of business, and him being on vacation is perfect. Less stress, and I assume it’ll be better pay than that restaurant you’re working in.” Oh how you hated how naive your mom could be sometimes, it always led to Choi taking advantage of her and her kindness.

“Mr. Choi lives—”

“In the city which is not at all far from here, the only reason you work at that lousy restaurant is because it’s near campus, yes or yes?”

“And when school starts?”

“Mr. Choi should be back by then and he can find someone new to replace you,” you dramatically groaned, the fact that she had reasonable answers to your questions bugged you. 

“But-”

“But nothing! You’re a hard worker Y/N, who knows you may even meet someone who could change your life around in that area. You’re young, about to be a college graduate, you need to start printing out resumes and Mr. Choi is a big name in the indust—”

“I get it, I get it,” you said chuckling at your mom’s enthusiasm, “and who's going to keep you company then?”

“Ah well the nurse was telling me last night about the events they throw here every week for people like me who are staying here for a while and trust me I’ll be just fine,” she winked at you which raised a laugh out of you. Who knew your mom could be so… social. “Just try and visit hmm... at least once a week.”

“Once?”

“I’m telling you Y/N, we will be just fine. Stop acting like I’m dying anytime soon.” she said, “now what do you say? It’s just until the end of summer.” You began to consider your options, money was definitely the weighing factor here.

Sighing once you had made your decision, “When do I start?”, a giant grin now appearing on her face. 

Sunday Night

“Well that’s the last of it,” you sighed in relief as you finally were able to close the trunk of your car after several minutes of struggling to compress your things in order for everything to fit in your small car and not make any double trips back. 

“Finally! You know for someone who claims they need to save money, you sure do like spending it on such small useless things,” your best friend, Yuna, complained.

“Oh because you were so much help,” you huffed, she had no right to complain considering all she did was loudly munch on her chips, watching the pitiful sight of you nearly fighting your trunk after several failed attempts of it not closing. She raised her hand in defense. 

You and Yuna had met in the 8th grade after the two of you were assigned as partners for your geometry class, casual conversation about latest idol debuts and fashion trends had blossomed a beautiful friendship. For a while you thought that college was going to cause the two of you to grow apart, but in fact you two became even closer. It had become a friendship where you didn’t need to see each other everyday, nor talk about absolutely everything all in one moment. Everything was always at its own pace between you two, the boundaries having been silently set.

You had told Yuna of your situation and rather than try to get you to cry about your feelings and awkwardly comfort you, she instead agreed to help you move out, letting her actions speaking louder than words. Of course Yuna’s definition of help differed from yours. but it was the thought that counted. She knew that when you were ready you’d talk to her about everything. 

“Well apartment D2 you’ve been... “ you paused, recalling the amount of times you’ve nearly burned something, now scratching your neck,  “...decent to me, but it’s time for a new chapter,” you whispered to yourself, anxious for the weeks to come. 

The drive home like almost all of them had the two of you singing to both current and childhood songs without a care in the world even though you two weren’t exactly what people would consider “good” singers. Occasional voice cracks seeping through the bass of the speakers, garnering a laugh from the two of you. 

By the time you got home and finished unpacking, you were not only exhausted but extremely hungry.

“I’m gonna go get us take out,” Yuna announced, getting up from the couch and grabbing your car keys from the rack, almost as if she read your mind. 

And so while she went to get that, you laid on your small childhood bed, staring at the ceiling. You laughed at the multiple glow in the dark stickers you had crookedly placed onto it several years ago, and cringe at the posters of second generation idols you had sloppily posted up on your walls when you were fifteen, now unaware that you were subconsciously grinning. 

It surprised you that your mom for the most part hadn’t moved anything around from your room, for the most part it looked almost exactly as how you left it years ago. The same old baby blue duvet covered your metal twin-sized bed frame, decorated with grey fluffy throw pillows which at the time you thought made you a professional interior designer. Your fingers grazed over the framed pictures you had on your small desk (minus the ones you took to college) of past memories including a photo of your dad piggy back carrying a five year old you who had the biggest smile on her face. A small reminder of what life once was. 

You could feel your eyes getting watery as you continued to stare at the photo, and so you quickly snapped yourself out of it, deciding that you already had enough emotional turmoil on your plate. Instead you plopped back onto bed, unlocked your phone and began to scroll through Twitter occasionally laughing at some memes.

A certain retweet had caught your eye causing you to let out a scoff, “Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” The Kim family were almost insufferable, their names practically plastered everywhere across Korea. Especially Mr. Kim’s son Taehyung who somehow always managed to get his name across the headlines whether it be on TV, magazines, or social media.

“Famous for being a brat,” you muttered to yourself, but ironically before you could click on the link you had heard the door open and close, resulting in you locking your phone and immediately getting up from bed, your stomach desperately ready to stop growling. 

“Im baaaack!” Yuna dramatically squealed, placing the foam takeout containers on your small kitchen table. The scent of the warm food making your mouth water. “I know it’s chilly right now, but the stars are out tonight, so I say we go eat at the top,” she then gave you the puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t need to make such… disturbing...faces for me to agree, you do know that right?” you teased, trying to hide your smirk. 

“Fuck you,” she responded to you while playfully hitting your shoulder.

Despite it being summer, when you had walked outside you immediately felt the crispy cold weather, but it was something you and Yuna had grown accustomed to. The countless number of late nights climbing up your metal ladder to get to the rooftop and watching the small tiny stars had made you two somewhat immune to the nightly cold. Your mom sometimes would even climb up herself to bring hot cocoa, rightfully worried that the two of you would freeze yourselves to death. 

You see your apartment, like the rest of your complex, wasn’t in the greatest condition. The infrastructure of it mostly relying on a mix of cement and brick, rust engulfing most things along with metal bars on each complex’s windows in order to prevent break ins. Crime was not something uncommon in your area, but something that you were used to hearing about as you got older. 

What made the whole situation more ironic was that the rich were separated by a simple six way motorway, acting almost as a bridge between two completely different worlds with their skyscrapers and condos looking down upon you guys. It was only at night when the stars were out and you looked up at the navy blue sky that you felt like for a small moment none of it mattered. The warm milky glow of the moon never failing to soothe you, reminding you that even in the dark there was light. Reminding you that even now which felt as if was one of the darkest hours in your life, there was going to be light. At least that’s what you hoped. 

“This view just never gets old,” you whispered, amazed at the moonlight’s reflection, the speckle of stars only adding to its beauty. Your eyes had once again become watery, a sudden state of reflection washing over you, but you quickly composed yourself before Yuna could notice. 

“What time do you even go in tomorrow?” Yuna asked, her eyes still primarily focused on the view above. 

“Well their flight is at 1PM so my mom told me I should get there by at least 11AM so he can explain everything to me, show me around, and all that other stuff.”

“I don’t see why you have an attitude about it, you’re acting like it’s the worst job in the world!” she scolded you. 

“I know I know, I’ve heard it all already,” you rolled your eyes recalling your mom's lecture and that she expected your attitude to be fixed come Monday morning.

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” Yuna mumbled while shrugging her shoulders and continuing to eat her food. 

“You can say that again.... ” you acknowledged her remark, secretly scared for tomorrow, silently hoping that all went well, “and I thought I was a slob,” you snorted, watching how sloppily Yuna was slurping her noodles. She raised her hand, smacking you on the shoulder. 

“Hey, watch—” 

Monday Morning.

“Where you’re going, you asshole!” you shouted over your window, your irritation fixated at the man who cut you off without signaling. God how you hated driving in the city. All the one way signs, the assholes who called themselves drivers, and the narrow streets which were hard to maneuver in. It all caused unnecessary stress, but here you were nonetheless. 

“Turn right in 1.2 miles,” you let out a snide scoff as you entered the parking lot, there was nothing but car of the year models ranging from Mercedes Benz’s, BMW’s, Range Rover’s, and more. All making your car look worse than it already did. 

Making your way into the lobby, you were in complete utter awe of the place. From the giant diamond chandelier hanging from above to the sparkly interior design which screamed Hollywood glam. The ivory colored double staircase reminded you of Titanic, the color scheme of the whole place was overwhelmingly beautiful. You could only imagine what Mr. Choi’s condo could look like as you made your way to the front desk. 

Ding. 

To your surprise a boy, a very handsome one to say the least, appeared from what you assumed was his office. He looked no older than you, his hair dyed a crimson-red color giving him a youthful appearance accompanied with a face that had both sharp and soft features. Before you could ponder on why such a good looking person was working and not living at a place like this, your thoughts were interrupted. 

“Hello, welcome to The Oaks condos, how can I help you?” he asked, sounding eerily similar to a robot. It reminded you of yourself at your old job, something you certainly would not miss.

“Um I’m Mr. Choi’s new assistant,” you looked for his name tag which coincidentally he didn’t have on, but you could immediately see his shoulders relax once he had heard the words “new assistant”. 

“Ah yes! You’re Ms. Y/L/N’s daughter right? Y/N right?” you nodded in agreement, a smile now appearing on his face, causing the corner of your lips to turn upward. Wow was this guy handsome, you only hoped that the heat you felt on your cheeks wasn’t visible to the eye. 

“Your mom called me to give me a heads up. I’m Hoseok, I’m what you can consider the receptionist around here,” he said, reaching his hand out for you to shake. 

Hoseok. The name sounded so familiar, you could’ve sworn you'd heard your mom mention the name a couple times. 

A light bulb then went off in your head, as you remembered the countless number of times she had tried setting you up on a date with him, but wow did she fail to mention that Hoseok had the literal face of a GQ model. 

An awkward cough brought you back to reality as you had realized that Hoseok’s hand had been stuck out for quite some time, you were now certain that your face must’ve resembled a ripe tomato. You quickly returned the handshake, internally scolding yourself for making yourself look like an idiot. Here you were, a grown woman, acting like a teenager again. 

“So um, you seem um ... pretty young to be working here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he teased, “I replaced my aunt after she retired and the owner of this place trusted her to teach me well, and well I guess I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I’m still employed,” he explained, playfully winking at you, confirming that he knew the effect he had on people. You stood there in silence, deciding that it was just best to say nothing, look pretty, and nod. Thus causing him throw his head back and laugh, making small claps with his hands. With the way you were acting, you couldn’t blame him. He must’ve thought you were some kind of walking circus act. 

“You’ll get used to it, you know...” you now had a look a look of confusion on your face which only made him laugh harder, but before you could ask him any questions, he changed the topic. 

“Well I assume your mom gave you Mr. Choi’s key pass, correct?” you shyly nodded no in response. “Ah I see, let’s go ahead and get that set up for you then,” you watched him as he began to type some things onto the computer in front of him. Compared to how fast his fingers were moving across the keyboard, he made you like a complete newb on the keyboard. The boy was clearly now in his own zone. 

“First name, Y/N?” 

“Yes.” 

“Last name, Y/L/N?” 

“Yes.” 

“You see where that X mark is on your left?” he pointed at the microscopic mark on the floor to which you followed, “Okay now look at where that pretty gold flower is on the wall, and say cheese!” Before you could even properly prepare yourself you heard the sound of the shutter go off, immediately causing Hoseok to begin cracking up. 

He turned the desktop computer to face towards you, showing the horrendous picture the camera took of you. One eye had come out mid-blink, your mouth slightly agape from fixing your hair in the moment. “Hey that’s not—!” Before you could start complaining, Hoseok had quickly interrupted. 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! It’s only for the program’s database which only Rachel and I see? Ain’t that right Rachel?” Rachel? Who the hell was that? 

Glancing around to see who this Rachel person was, you were surprised to see a very old woman seated behind the front desk seemingly caring less about what he had said, a permanent scowl on her face along with a small groan coming out of her mouth as a response. “That’s my girl,” Hoseok jested, “Now you,” he dramatically pointed at you, “come back over here.” 

You muttered a quiet “Whatever,” peeved by his little antics. Maybe it was because Rachel was old but you could slowly see why she had that look on her face.  

“Place your index finger on the small machine when it lights up,” he pointed to the small biometric scanning machine, similar to the ones used at the DMV. Following the simple instructions you allowed the machine to scan your finger, assuming it was going to be used for something important around here. 

All you could do was observe him as he finished typing who knows what. You observed how his eyebrows quirked as he continued to type, a satisfied smile gracing his lips once he was done. 

Too caught up in his appearance, the sudden tug at your hand had caught you by surprise, yanking you from where you were standing. “I’ll be back Rachel! I’m going to show little Ms. Y/N here around,” Rachel as before. only grunted in response. 

“So here of course we have the lobby, this is where all the..” he glanced around making sure no one was around before whispering, “snobby folks come in and out of every day. Them and their visitors of course, so hopefully you don’t have to interact with any of them.”

“I don’t think all of this will be neces—” before you could continue he pulled your hand again now guiding you towards another area. You glanced at the time on your phone, hoping this so called tour wasn’t going to take too long. 

“Right here is the entrance to the patio and pool area, which is what you’ll use your fingerprint for as well as entering Mr. Choi’s condo and any other amenities we have around here,” he reached into his pocket pulling out a laminated card, “but if for any reason our system’s down then this right here should do the trick for amenities only, you’ll have to come up to the front desk if the finger pad in the elevator isn’t working. For precautionary reasons of course,” he explained, most of it pretty self explanatory, except the elevator part but you assumed he’d get to that soon.  

“So the entrance to every apartment is through the elevator which is right there on your left,” You followed him as he began to walk towards it, placing his finger on the elevator’s finger scanning pad, “The stairs are really only here for decoration considering no one uses them, I mean unless of course you want to climb up 7 flights of stairs everyday,” You quickly nodded your head no, “Only resident’s and employee fingerprints allow the elevator to open but,” the two of you stepped into the elevator, “the fingerpad inside the elevator only allows certain people to access certain floors. Since Mr. Choi’s going to be out on vacation with his vacation, you are currently the only person with access to his floor,” you raised your finger, slightly confused. 

“Don’t you technically—” 

“I do, but let’s say I were to enter a resident’s condo without their explicit permission, they’d immediately be notified through their phone as I’m also under strict contract.” Your mouth made an “O” shape, impressed by how everything was ran around here. Another question then popped up in your mind as he clicked the elevator’s 7th button. 

“Well what if there’s more than one person in the elevator? What then?” 

“Ah good question! Since you don’t know any of the residents here yet, I suggest you always try to go into the elevator by yourself, and if the situation arises where you feel uncomfortable or paranoid about who's in the elevator with you then just go back down to the lobby of course and wait it out, but we’ve never had any cases of break ins or anything like that. Especially not in an area like this. Things around here are ran very smoothly,” he shrugged, “I mean around here the burglars don’t wear black ski mask and carry scary weapons. In fact the real criminals live on these same floors,” he deadpanned, slightly catching you by surprise. 

1.

“I know what you’re probably thinking, who the hell makes an elevator an entrance to their home? I thought the same thing when I first started, but for some reason they see it as some kind of luxury feature around here...”

2. 

“Mm it’s expected if I’m being honest,” you chuckled, slowly finding the confidence to make small talk with Hoseok without getting so flustered. A pregnant silence had made it’s way into the elevator. 

3.

“I’m sorry about your mom by the way...” though he had said it out the blue, you could feel the sincerity behind his words. All you could do was give him a small smile of acknowledgment, feeling as if it was too early to feel someone’s pity. “She talks about you a lot...” he said, causing you to smile. 

4. 

“My Y/N is going to one of the top schools in all of Korea! My Y/N is going to become a successful businesswoman! My Y/N is so pretty Hobi, a boy like you should take her out some time!” he mimicked your mom’s voice, now causing you to genuinely laugh. 

5. 

“That definitely sounds like her,” you giggled, your cheeks now becoming a tinging shade of pink at the mention of her trying to playing matchmaker. 

“You should’ve seen her face when I told her I was gay,” your eyes immediately felt as if they had bulged out of your eye sockets, your face now completely red at his previous words. He on the other hand was now laughing as hard as ever, his hand clutching onto his stomach from laughing so hard. 

6. 

“I told you you’d get used to me,” he said in-between laughs, tears now welting out of his eyes from his laughing fit. Things definitely started to make sense, especially now that you were inconveniently remembering how your mom had completely stopped mentioning Hoseok in any romantic way to you. You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment because here you were already fantasizing about the dude. 

“You're also probably wondering why I’m working at a place like this, that’s what most people ask me when they visit round here, but...”

7. 

“I’ll have to answer your questions some other time Ms. Y/N because well here we are! I’ll have your parking pass ready by the time leave but for now just place your finger on the scanner and off you go,” you followed his instructions, opening the doors of the elevator, stepping out, and waving a small goodbye watching him return the wave as the doors slowly closed. In all honesty you were genuinely happy at the fact that you had made a friend around here even though you were still slightly embarrassed about the moment that had played out only minutes ago. 

But before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a voice call out your name, “Ah Y/N, good you’re here right on time!” You formally greeted who you presumed was Mrs. Choi, slightly surprised at the fact that she even knew your name. 

“You don’t have to be so formal. Muah. Muah,” she pulled you in for a hug and giving you a kiss on each cheek like the French do. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother, tell her I send my condolences.” You returned her fake smile, not expecting yourself to despise her this early on. Oh were you glad she wasn’t going to be around.

Mrs. Choi in a way reminded you of Regina George’s mom despite not having any kids. Needles and plastic were definitely her best friends, and her attempt to try and act younger than her actual age was quite cringe to watch. 

Soon after greeting each other, two pomeranians began to circle around you barking. You bent down trying to pet them, but you guess they picked up the snob’s attitude because all they did was continue barking and one even tried to bite you. 

“If it isn’t Y/N, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” you snapped your attention to the man himself, Mr. Choi, who was coming down his stairs with a thick black luggage case in his hand. The last time you saw him was around 9 years ago when he had lived on the other side of the city. Your mom had to take you to work with her that day because your neighbor was unavailable to watch after you and you were still too young to be home alone.

Mr. Choi had definitely changed in appearance, his once full head of black hair was now clearly balding, he had gained some weight, and overall looked like a man who had long been worn out. You couldn’t help but think that this vacation was probably needed, especially with a wife like his.  

“I’ll wait for you in the car my love. It was nice seeing you Y/N, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!” she squealed, waving goodbye as she stepped into the elevator, the dogs following right behind her.

You could hear Mr. Choi sigh, probably already mentally preparing himself for the next 10 weeks. So this is what a pretentious marriage looks like, you thought to yourself. You theorized that Mr. Choi must’ve only married her for her looks and she for his money, and well no wonder there were no kids in the picture. It’d be the ultimate death of both of them. You actually felt pity for the man, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a choice in marrying her.

You brought your attention back to Mr. Choi who must have been rambling on for some time now, “My most recent assistant just quit on me for no reason,” a genuine puzzled look on his face, “something about me being too overwhelming for her, as if I'm supposed to know what that means,” he scoffed. “So when your mom mentioned you well I knew I could trust her!”

Your mom truly never failed at mentioning you to whoever and whenever she possibly could, it was both a blessing and a curse. 

“So… what exactly am I going to be in charge of?” You blurted out, the question had been lingering in your mind since the night prior.

“Good question, I’d show you around, but time is on the essence. I basically just need you to organize my office, file paperwork, organize Amelia’s closet, go run errands for me, pick up documents, but most importantly I’m going to need you to attend certain events in place for me, but of course just introduce yourself as my assistant, apologize as to why I couldn’t be there, and most importantly keep your eyes and ears open. In my world we like to keep… tabs… on one another,” your eyebrow quirked in curiosity, “and since I won’t have any signal I expect to have a report ready for me when I come back so I’m caught up with everything of course,” he grabbed something from the coffee table, “I made a planner for you with everything that needs to be done on a day to day basis,” he then proceeded in handing you the bulk gray planner, “It includes passwords, data sheets, and all that good stuff.” 

You were amazed at how his demeanor had changed from clumsy-like to serious businessman in the blink of an eye. It was actually quite intimidating.

“Finances need to be kept in check, investors need to be accommodated, and well I just want to come back to everything being normal,” he began to gather the remainder of his stuff, “also your money is going to be wired to your bank account on a weekly basis and well that’s really it. I’ll see you in 10 weeks Ms. L/N! Good luck!”

“Good luck..” you quietly repeated his final parting words back to yourself, watching as the elevator doors closed. You could see why his last assistant quit, you didn’t even know where to start. You took a deep breath deciding to make your way up to his office, your day was just getting started.

The condo may have looked like it came out of a show from HGTV, but Mr. Choi’s office looked like it came out of an episode of Hoarders Buried Alive. There were scattered papers everywhere, his desk was practically hidden by all the stacks of papers. Food wrappers and aluminum soda cans thrown around like the slob he was, the stench making you want to throw up. 

“Oh my God…” you said to yourself, this man was just a mess. 

You skimmed through some of the papers all of them having to do with different things ranging from firm performance, finances, legal forms, and much more. You could already feel a headache coming, but at the end of the day this was your job. You grabbed some storage boxes and began to label them with a black marker.

Your plan was to separate the papers into two sections: Important and Unimportant. Once you finished separating, you’d then shred what you deemed unimportant, and further organize what was important by date and then transfer them to his filing cabinets. It would take time, but it was the only method you could possibly think of. Your goal was to stop by 3 and then start working on Mrs. Choi’s closet.

You put on your earphones and began to play some music so that you wouldn’t be so stressed while organizing everything.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s and bottles of bubbles…” you hummed to yourself and before you knew it, it was already 3. You had thrown out all of the trash in his office, and for the majority part most of his papers were organized. 

You sighed, now to get started with her damn closet.

Mrs. Choi’s closet was its own giant room, marble shelves stacked with bags and shoes, racks full of clothes, jewelry sparkling under their display showcase. The sparkling glass chandelier on the ceiling adding an extra oomph to the room. 

Hermes. Gucci. Chanel. Versace. Burberry. Balmain. Louis Vuitton. Saint Laurent. Fendi.

Any brand you could think of was in this closet, it was unbelievable. The closet had to be worth several thousands, no millions. So many questions were running through your head. How could someone just have so much? What do you even do with this amount of clothes? You were truly left speechless.

Shaking your head, you began to pick up all the clothes on the floor deciding that it was best to organize everything by color, your day almost done.

By the time your alarm went off it was already six which is the time that Mr. Choi had said you could leave, and it wasn’t like he was paying you extra for staying any longer and doing more work. For the most part, you had finished with both the office and closet and were just ready to go home, jump into bed, and watch some Netflix.

You went down the elevator,  satisfied at your first day on the job. This was going to be easy, you thought to yourself.

Just as you were leaving the lobby you heard Hoseok, “Hey I had your parking permit printed out!”  You stopped dead in your tracks, turned around and walked towards his desk. It wouldn’t hurt to make a little bit of conversation, right?

“Ah I had forgotten about that, thanks,” you chuckled.

“It’s no problem! The parking officer loves giving tickets.… so how was your first day?”

“Um not bad actually, a little boring to be honest,” you pondered at his question, for the most part you were being truthful, “Tomorrow I’m supposed to go and get Mr. Choi’s Mercedes Benz checked out, and then from there go and pick up some paperwork from some legal firm, transfer it onto his computer.”

“Well at least he’s not around to be over your shoulder, he practically had his last assistant going nuts,” he responded, laughing at the memory.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow,” you yawned, giving him a small wave goodbye.

“Hey well let me know if you ever need anything, and I’m being serious,” and to that you nodded, taking note of what he said.

Monday Afternoon.

[Incoming Facetime from: Ma 💞💗💓💕]

Immediately you clicked “accept”, having just gotten home and tidying up a couple things around the apartment. 

“So how was your first day?” your mom immediately questions you, clearly eager to know. 

“It was pretty decent ma, nothing I can’t handle,” you chuckled, “but wow was that man’s office practically a pig pen,” you complained only causing your mom to start laughing. 

“Oh I know,” she comments, only causing you to roll your eyes. 

“I think these 10 weeks should go by quite smoothly if I say so myself,” you sounded genuinely optimistic, “I met Hoseok you know,” your embarrassment had long subsided, instead finding it hilarious.

“Ah my Hobi!” your mom sounding delighted at the mention of the young boy, “a hard worker that boy is I'm telling you.” 

“He seems like it,” you had long concluded that he was when he had been explaining everything about the residency to you. He seemed like one of those people who even though they disliked their job, still put in their absolute everything into making sure they were the best at it. “You shoud’ve seen me giving him the googly eyes earlier,” you joked around. 

“Hobi is—” 

“Gay, yeah I know. I had to find that out the hard way,” you covered your face with your hands, playfully sulking. 

“Why do you think I stopped trying to set the two of you up,” your mom laughed. 

“Mm really ma? I would’ve never guessed,” sarcasm dripping from your words. 

“Hey remember who you’re sp—” 

“Anywayssss, how are you holding up out there?” you took a sip from the cup of juice you had served yourself earlier, your mom’s dismissive expression returning back to a smile. 

“Well the food around here is horrible! I told my nurse that they should let me in the kitchen for a change, but all she did was laugh!” You grinned at the idea of your mom actually working at the cafeteria for the sake of it. 

"Ah well I’lll make sure to bring you something on Wednesday.” 

“Did anything arrive in the mail today about the invoice for everything?” your mom asked, a look of worry now on her face. 

“No ma, and don’t even worry about anything like that okay? Focus on your treatment, and you let me handle the rest alright?” your voice now becoming stern, leave it to your mom to start worrying about finances. 

“I know, I know, but I know some fees were coming up and well—” 

“And I’m telling you to leave it to me, okay?” 

“Ah okay then, well I'm going to sleep already,” she yawned, “they’ve been prodding needles in me all day,” she tried to say it as lighthearted as she could, but she quickly regretted it as she saw the sudden sad look on your face. 

“Goodnight ma, I’ll see you Wednesday alright?” 

“Okay then Y/N, I love you.” 

“I love you too,” and with a small pressured smile, you clicked “end call”. An immediate sigh coming from your lips as you glanced at the several unsealed envelopes on your coffee table, many of the scattered papers stamped with a red “PAST DUE”. 

School, rent, the water bill, the light bill, the gas bill, your phone bill, the old hospital bills, the new ones, all due in such small amounts of time with almost no room in-between dates to rest. 

And so that night you laid in bed staring at your ceiling for what felt like hours unable to go to sleep. The only thing on your mind was how you were going to get the funds to pay for everything because well if you didn’t then you’d be left in hospital debt with an eviction notice right at your door and a whole bunch of other problems that you didn’t want to think about.

Deciding that it was best to get a breath of fresh air, you made your way to the rooftop, watching as the scattered stars glimmered in the sky. You sorta wished that life could be like those childhood TV shows where a shooting star would pass by and make your wish all come true, but the fact was, is that your life isn’t a movie or a tv show. This was your reality, and you were just going to have to suck it up.   

You unlocked your phone and texted the only person you possibly could.

[To: Yuna 🤍]

[10:09] you up??

You tapped your foot, waited for her to reply.

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:10] i'm offended that that’s even a question tbh

[you]

[10:11] you think you can come over? pleaseeee 🥺

[10:12] ik it’s late and you’re probably tired and work tmrw but i just rlly need some company rn

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:13] i’ll be there in 10, don’t judge how i look

[you]

[10:14] when have i ever…

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door.

“I brought your favorite snacks,” Yuna had a giant grin plastered on her face to which you couldn’t help but smile at. Her makeup-free face and bright Hello Kitty pajamas told you that she was probably in bed when you texted her. 

Once she slid off her shoes, she was quick to make herself feel at home by jumping onto your couch. Hell, this was basically her second home.

“Do you work tomorrow?” you asked her.

“I called off, I’ve already accumulated a lot of hours anyway and well I might as well start putting them to use,” she stated, as she munched on a freshly opened bag of barbeque chips. 

Yuna was a retail clerk at the local mall, attending fashion school at night in hopes of landing herself a future internship, but like you was currently on summer vacation. Even in middle school, becoming a world renowned fashion designer had always been her dream, having gone to the the principal’s office a countless number of times because she added some kind of tailor to the plain old school uniform whether it be bedazzles or embellishing some kind of bizarre pattern onto it. 

Yuna though was sadly a case of a prodigy without the resources, accepted to one of Seoul’s top fashion schools when the two of you had graduated high school. You were there the day she opened her letter of acceptance, the two of you along with her family celebrating by going to one of Seoul’s most expensive restaurants. But just as you were there the day she was accepted, you were also her shoulder to cry on the day she realized that the money she had saved up wouldn’t even cover a quarter of tuition costs, and her applications for scholarships had all fallen through. 

What you admired most about Yuna was that disappointment didn't stop her from trying. Her designs were truly one of a kind, and you weren’t even saying that because she was your best friend and had a bias towards her. You could only hope that one day she’d be recognized for her talents. 

You grabbed your blanket from your room and sat next to her on the couch. She stared at you while you flicked through different channels on the TV, sensing that something was wrong. 

You could practically feel her burning a hole through your head and so you decided to answer the question you knew was looming in her head, “I’m not okay,” you mumbled, letting out a sardonic laugh. “I’m trying to act like I am, but I'm just not,” you stared off into the TV not wanting to make eye contact with her, “it’s just not fair,” you whispered, confused with yourself as to whether you were sad or angry.

Yuna could feel her heart wrench as she listened.

“My mom’s been nothing but a kind person, I’ve been nothing but a kind person, and so I can’t help but ask why? What did we do to end up in a situation like this?” you hadn’t even realized that tears were falling from your eyes until you felt the salty drops of water make their way onto your lips, dripping from your chin, “The whole time I was in Mr. Choi’s condo looking around at the million dollar paintings, and organizing his wife’s thousand dollar outfits I kept thinking to myself how can a man like Mr. Choi just not care? He didn’t even bother to ask how she was...” you seethed, the emptiness in your voice had now become anger.

Yuna scoffed, “The rich are always looking down on us like we’re just nothing but money makers to them, demanding their respect like they deserve it for free.”

“I just,” you paused for a second, “I just don’t know what to do, I think I might have to start looking for a second job or something, or maybe even take a gap year...” you breathed out, running a hand through your hair in distress. 

And maybe one could call it fate with what you and Yuna had seen on your TV that night. Destiny perhaps. Whatever it was, it was going to open the doors to a brand new world. A world that you had only ever caught small glimpses of.

“Kim Taehyung is officially Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, our sources have confirmed that he and on and off again girlfriend Sunhi have called it quits permanently this time. The reason you may ask? Rumor has it that she was caught cheating on him,” the entertainment reporter had a giant grin on her face, “That’s right ladies, the heir to Kim Enterprises is back on the market.”

Pictures which you assumed were recent showed Taehyung partying, drinking, flashing expensive cars, and at red carpet events for major fashion brands. “Tweet us using hasht—” you changed the channel on the TV, bored of the topic at hand.

“I swear he’s the only person they talk about nowadays, I mean literally he’s everywhere!” you chuckled, turning your attention to Yuna who for some odd reason now had a look of disbelief on her face.

“Y/N… how did I— no how did we not think of this earlier?” Yuna got up from the couch like an excited toddler causing you to tilt your head to the side in honest confusion. 

“What the hell are you talking about now,” you said, laughing at how childish she looked. She was now pacing herself back and forth across your living room, her adrenaline practically visible.

“You know I don’t normally believe in this stuff but holy shit this has got to be a sign!” At this point you were convinced she was talking to herself considering she wasn’t even making direct eye contact when she said that. She frantically ran her hands through her hair, “I mean you have the quote on quote resources, the clothes, my fashion expertise, the car, the events, and he’s single now. Oh my God how did we not think of this,” you carefully listened to what she said trying to piece everything together. Resources? Clothes? Was she talking about Kim Taehyung?

Your eyes immediately widened when you put two and two together and realized what she was so excited about, and it was now your turn to get up from the couch.

“You’re literally insane you understand that right!?” you stared at her, completely baffled. You thought stopping her from pacing around would bring her back to reality and get that grin off her face, but if anything it did the opposite.

“Y/N! What are the chances that as we’re talking about your finance issues and then something like that comes up! What are the chances that you literally work for a millionaire who's going to be gone for several weeks and expects you to attend his events! You can’t tell me that this isn’t hmm…  I don’t know… Fate!” All you could do was stare at her in disbelief as she began to mumble something about this being something “straight out of a movie”. You were waiting for her to laugh and tell you this was all some kind of joke, but you soon realized she was being serious.

“The fact that you’re actually being serious about this is ridiculous!”

“And the fact that you think it’s ridiculous is what’s really crazy!” you shook your head refusing to accept what she was alluding to.

“Yuna! Let’s be rational he—”

“No, just listen to me Y/N. Please,” you looked at Yuna who had now calmed down, her face completely serious, “I know it seems out of the ballpark…” you nodded in agreement, “You have the opportunity to infiltrate the rich, and not just anyone but the Kim family! You know how many rumors there are about that family and their business!” she shouted while adding extra emphasis on the word infiltrate as if this was some kind of spy movie.

You sighed, “And how exactly would I do that? How could I not get caught up in lies? Why the Kim family? Why not not just steal some of Mr. Choi’s belongings and sell them on Ebay or something? Just what exactly are y—”

“You didn’t let me finish!” you grunted in annoyance. There were just so many questions running through your head, did she not realize the risk in what she was proposing? The consequences?

“You’re a stranger in their world, a brand new person … a brand new identity! You already have to go to these events as it is, and you can’t steal anything from Mr. Choi and sell it because I mean clearly he knows who you are. They, as in the rich, do not,” Yuna knew she had managed to grab your attention based on the look of skepticism on your face, “And technically you’re not going to be stealing Mrs. Choi’s clothes, you’ll be um ... borrowing them.” she flashed a giddy smile, “10 weeks Y/N, 10 weeks to get Kim Taehyung to fall in love with you, blackmail money out of that family, and then poof you disappear without a trace!”

“You have no idea how many questions are running through my head at this very moment.”

“And I think I can give you answers to them all, but please Y/N just think about it! It would solve all of your problems, financially at least,” you jokingly hit her shoulder as she teased you with the last part of her sentence, “you wouldn’t be doing it for yourself, you’d be doing it for your mom.”

“For my mom…” you mumbled to yourself. Yuna stared at your blank expression. She could only assume that you were letting everything sink in before making a decision. On one hand you’d be able to pay for all of your expenses while still getting your job done, but on the other you'd be using someone under a false pretense in order to blackmail money out of them. You’d literally be infiltrating the rich. You were scared. What if you got caught? Would you go to jail? What would happen to your mom?

You had made your decision.

“I trust you Yuna… I really do…” she now had a worrisome look on her face, “and so..” without even realizing it Yuna had been crossing her fingers, “I’m in.”  

“Oh my God,” she let out a sigh of both relief and disbelief, a beaming smile on her face.

“But!” her smile quickly disappeared after hearing your tone, “we need to plan this thoroughly, like a solid proof plan by tonight on pen and paper, you got me?” she nodded in agreement, “and I think there’s someone we need involved in this... “

She tilted her head in confusion.

“Who?”

Tuesday Morning.

“Yuna this is Hoseok, Hoseok this is Yuna,” the two shook hands giving one another a warm smile.

Yuna began eyeing you in a way of saying “Are you sure about this?”. You understood why she was skeptical of Yuna whether or not she’d agree to everything, hell you had your own doubts. What if Hoseok said no? Worse, what if he completely snitched you out? Then you’d be stuck with no job, no money, and probably blacklisted from all major companies in Seoul by Mr. Choi himself with the label “thief” over your head. You had to reassure yourself that everything would be just fine, “So what brings you guys here?”

“Well I was hoping I could talk to you um…” you glanced around, “somewhere private,” you whispered giving him a shy smile, “maybe up in Mr. Choi’s condo,” you offered remembering that Rachel could possibly be hearing (though you highly doubted she’d care).  

“Oh um… sure, let me just tell Rachel to cover for me,” he awkwardly dismissed himself to the back.

“I don’t know Y/N … he seems like the type of person to not want to risk his job..” Yuna whispered to you, she was clearly on high alert.

“He told me I could ask him for anything, and well I know I’ve only known her for about 24 hours, but I don’t know… something about him just seems reliable, I can't explain it. It’s just better to have him on our team than to be suspicious of us. I can’t do this whole infiltration thing being paranoid that the receptionist is going to snitch on me when he sees me walk out with clothes worth thousands of dollars,” you replied, “And if this really is playing out as a movie like you say, then we need someone whose tech savvy.” 

“You have a point,” she chuckled, “wait how do you know he’s good at computers again?” 

Your mind flashed back to the night before, while Yuna was asleep you had gone full stalker mode on Hoseok to get to the bottom of who he was. After hours of looking through different social media platforms you had ended up finding both his Twitter and Instagram @/junghsk, where he had pictures of his college graduation from 2 years ago. Major? Computer Science. It explained why he looked like he was in some Matrix movie the other day, and though of course it didn't mean automatically he was an expert, he definitely must’ve been better than both you and Yuna combined when it came to programming which is something (based on your plan) you were going to need for future endeavors. 

You also came to find out that he was an avid animal lover, taught cardio dance classes on morning weekends, likes to live tweet show series such as Games of Thrones, and is in a committed relationship with someone named Min Yoongi. What could you say? You liked to do intensive research. 

Once Hoseok returned the three of you went up to Mr. Choi’s condo, the elevator ride up was definitely awkward compared to the day before. 

Yuna was in clear awe of the place. You could tell she wanted to give herself a personal tour, but you shot her a look dismissing the idea as she could easily do that later.

“We should sit,” you suggested pointing to the kitchen’s island, "Yuna can make us all some instant ramen,” she immediately shot you a look of annoyance, but didn’t argue with you making her way to the pantry.  

“So...” he quietly mumbled at an attempt to break the ice, making small tapping noises on the island’s surface with his fingers. 

Flashing him a pretentious smile, you awkwardly glanced around trying to think of something to make small talk with, “Um do you like Games of Thrones?” 

Immediately he grinned, you expected a “yes” to come out of his mouth but instead he said, “Ah so that was you yesterday!” 

The color drained out of your face , wait what? He began to laugh, making small claps as he threw his head back, “You were stalking me,” his face scrunched up as he began to tease you. 

“What are you talking about?” your tone becoming defensive along with your eyebrows furrowing, only causing his fits of laughter to become louder. His index finger wiping the tears that began to form in his eyes. 

“Don’t act like you didn't like and unlike my picture at like 3 in the morning!” He suddenly pulled out his phone, showing the notification which he hadn’t cleared from his phone, showing your username and the words “liked your photo” following right after. You had forgotten about that... 

It was already 3AM and you were beginning to doze off, eyelids barely even open. You saw the white heart on Instagram appear on a 56 week old picture which you immediately unliked, also causing you to jolt out of your comfortable position in panic. 

Damn you Instagram. “Whatever you need must be pretty important if you’re up at 3AM instastalking me.” 

“Oh shut up—” 

“Well since you were on there, what hair color do you prefer on me: red, brown, or black?” You scowled before muttering a quiet “brown”. “Really I’ve been told red looks best on me, hmm...” he pondered, pressing his index finger onto his bottom lip. "So are you going to tell me what this is all about anytime soon or ...” he said, his tone coming out more demanding than he intended, but Hoseok was the kind of person that didn’t like to beat around the bush, rather preferring to be told things straight up as they were. 

“Okay..” You started, explaining to him of your situation starting from your mom, to the bills you needed to pay, why this job just wasn’t enough, why you needed to go ahead with your plan, why you needed him to be in on everything, and emphasizing that you weren’t doing this for yourself but your mom. By the time you finished explaining, Yuna was already done making the noodles.

Hoseok sat there in silence, you could hear your heart from your chest, your fingers getting slightly sweaty as you thought of the different possible outcomes. The deafening silence had made you feel like you guys were there for hours. Honestly, you could have heard a pin drop. 

It wasn’t until you saw his signature smile beginning to form on his face that you could’ve sworn you felt bricks actually fall off your shoulders.

“Okay let’s do it,” he stated as he began to slurp on his noodles.

“You’re in?” Yuna asked in complete shock, eyes completely widened. He nodded in return clearly enjoying his food, “You don’t have any questions? No concerns?”

Hoseok shrugged, “Mm well of course I’m curious as to what exactly the plan is, which I’m sure you’ll be explaining to me soon, but nope. I’d probably say no if the cause wasn’t for something important,” he looked at you giving a warm compassionate smile, “and this has got to be the most interesting thing that’s happened on this job for the past 2 years so there’s that,” his brows knitting remembering past situations with residents, “and lastly these snobs deserve what’s coming to them,” he finished off causing all three of you to laugh. 

“Well then cheers to mission… ummm... “ Yuna placed her finger on her chin, causing you to facepalm yourself as she was trying to think of a name for something so irrelevant.

“7 Rings,” Hoseok interjected , “like the Ariana Grande song. I want it, I got it!” 

“You like my hair gee thanks just bought it!” you guys simultaneously sang at the top of your lungs, clinking each other’s drinks.

And so that was how mission “7 Rings” came into fruition, but of course like everything else in the world, nothing ever goes as planned. If only you had realized then that things were going to change, whether they were for the better or for the worse… well that was for you to find out on your own.

author’s note 🧚🏻 : SK has universal health care but for the sake of the plot we’re going to have to pretend they have a private healthcare system so please don’t attack me lmao. Also please like & repost as it keeps me motivated to write and update faster !! Thank you in advance if you do 💞

[denialcity]

I hope this doesn't come across as rude, but why do you tag posts with ship tags if you only view the relationship in a platonic way? Why not just use the platonic tags?

heya you’re alright! don’t mind, im gonna outsource this to the amazing @firecoloredwater bc im out of spoons from real life, but i agree w everything below

Hey! This is Para answering (with some Red commentary/edits), because we approach shipping the same way + Para has worded some of it before. Hopefully this will answer some of your questions!

The easiest reason to address is that platonic tags don't have as well established a tradition/format as ship tags in general do. AO3 has a semi-well-known system (still somewhat recent) but Tumblr really doesn't; the platonic version of TobiIzu could be Tobi&Izu or Tobi+Izu or Tobirama & Izuna or platonic!TobiIzu or any number of other variants. Some people use Tobirama/Izuna for platonic, even. Certain niches will of course develop their own conventions, but tumblr as a whole doesn't have anything that strong, so using platonic tags exclusively would A: be harder, and B: mean fewer people find the post.

Now, if someone will be actively squicked by people interpreting their post as romantic when they meant it to be platonic, then that's worth doing. But Red is happy to share and usually perfectly fine with their posts being interpreted as romantic/sexual when Red was thinking platonic, or vice versa. So there's no reason not to use the overall tag, even if it comes with a presumption of romance (which Red politely disagrees with).

The other answer is: Red usually doesn't only view the relationships in a platonic way.

When people say "ship" and "shipping" a lot of people assume that means specifically romantic+sexual relationships.

But there's also another thing that goes on under the terms "ship" and "shipping" which is more like, "I want to see what these two do to each other. I want to examine their interactions and what happens when you put them together and how they change as a result." And sometimes the answer to "what happens" is sex and/or romance, but sometimes it's not, and even when it is that's not the point of the exercise.

Often the goal here is intensity: the characters are hugely important to each other and change each other's lives and selves, for good or ill, and whether that gets framed in a romantic or sexual or platonic or fraternal or complete other way is often dependent on the particular AU. (This, of course, is vastly oversimplified, but hopefully it makes sense.)

Some people take one approach with certain characters and the other approach with others, so this can get even more mixed up. Some people vary their approach by AU, or mood, or whatever other reason, or they just sort of fuse the two together. It's complicated, basically; I'm trying to do broad strokes but actually fandom is just a whole bunch of people each doing their own thing, so there are always exceptions to everything and things I haven't mentioned.

Red's shipping (and mine) tends to be that second type, and as a result, how we interpret a given character interaction can be pretty ambiguous and fluid. Sometimes Red will draw something for an AU where we haven't even decided if the characters are romantic or platonic yet, like this art of everybody lives verse Itama and Kunimi, or blessed sacrifice AU TobiIzu cuddles. Is it romantic or sexual or platonic? Who knows! Not us yet! Quite likely not the characters as it happens either!

So then, how do you tag romantic vs platonic when you don't even know which it is? The simplest answer is, it just gets the normal ship tag and people can see it however they want to.

(We've mostly figured out where BSAU is going by now, on the basis of what creates the most angst. But not until well after that was posted.)

Even when one version of a ship is preferred, Red is usually happy with the other version (eg: Red prefers HashiMada to be platonic, but romantic HashiMada is still good). It's just like getting your second favorite food instead of your first, is all.

So basically, in summary: platonic ship tags aren't as standardized as "overall" ship tags so they're less useful, open/ alternative interpretation is welcome, and Red ships “whatever the fuck these two had going on” rather than strict delineated relationship categories. 

[misterewrites]

Bonding (Kainora week)

Hey everyone! E here and with a special oneshot ! My friend is help running kainora week over here @kainora-week and I agreed to at least write one thing for her so it is day 3: Formal Wear.

Set between season 3 and 4, Jinora is asked to make an appearance at a Earth Kingdom Noble party as a part of a deal to ensure they turn over power to Prince Wu when the chaos finally is under controlled. Kai is tagging along and isn't exactly thrilled about the idea.

That's it for me, almost done with the next underground chapter but till then enjoy, have a great week, stay safe, wash your hands and wear your masks!

if you want a easier place to find and read it, check it out over here at https://archiveofourown.org/works/30242472

“Are you mad at me? This has to be some kind of punishment. Some kind of cruel torture for all the scams I ran. Mako put you up to this, didn’t he? Jinora how could you?!”

Jinora let out a tired sigh “Kai, you’re being more dramatic than Ikki.”

The master airbender gently fixed her boyfriend’s collar, loosening it to allow her fellow airbender actually breath.

Kai took a deep breath, ignoring the burning sensation he felt in his cheeks “More dramatic than Ikki? Now you’re just trying to hurt me. Sorry!” he rose his hands in surrender at Jinora’s raised eyebrow “I-I just never dealt with this.” he gestured to his formal Earth Kingdom Attire.

“I know” Jinora agreed softly, smoothing out the wrinkles in the clothing “But you’re going have to. At least for tonight.”

“I don’t see why I have to go.” Kai fumed “It’s just a stupid party for a bunch of crusty nobles.”

“This is more than that.” Jinora’s voice became firm “With the chaos in the Earth Kingdom, alliances are important. These nobles are agreeing to turn over their power to Prince Wu when Kurvira finally calms everything down.”

Kai scoffed, rolling his eyes with distaste “Rich people giving something up willingly? And I’m a pink platypus bear.”

Kai’s blush worsened as Jinora playfully pinched his cheeks “My cute platypus bear and now you’re pink.”

“So.” Kai replied quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment “Is your dad okay with this? Me and you on this mission. Alone. Together.”

Jinora gave a halfhearted shrug “If he’s got a problem with this, then he’s got a problem. There’s no real option. With all the turmoil in the Earth Kingdom, we’re already stretched thin. Dad needed an airbending master here to show we support this show of unity and since he’s busy trying to negotiate with the spirits in Republic City, it’s me. It isn’t like we have another master just laying about.”

“And me? Why am I here?”

“Because” Jinora answered simply “Having someone born and raised in the Earth Kingdom might keep the nobles calm.”

Kai was not convinced by that response “You’re aware I hate the Earth Kingdom, right? You’re really telling me no one else was available? Not even Otaku?”

Jinora gave sly grin “Well, I didn’t exactly tell anyone else.”

“I’m a terrible influence on you.”

“And I’m a positive one for you. Balances out. As all things should be.”

“And I’m guessing he made you promise no romantic hijinks on this trip?”

“I made no so such promise.”

Kai cracked a smile “Alright, maybe it won’t be as bad as I think it’ll be.”

-----

“It’s worse.” Kai huffed, eyeing the giggling group of noblewomen with disdain.

Kai knew it was going to be a terrible time the moment they were announced to the rest of the party: Everyone spared them a single glimpse then proceeded to ignore them.

“Not a very friendly bunch, huh?” Jinora murmured awkwardly.

Kai scoffed dismissively “Don’t take it personally. They’re jerks to everyone.”

“I guess…”

Kai glanced to his girlfriend, the frown on her lips tugging at his heartstrings. He yawned loudly, knocking Jinora out of her stupor. She tilted her head quizzically at him and flushed a bright red when he wrapped an arm around her lovingly.

“Kai! What are you doing?! There’s people around.”

He couldn’t help but smile at how easily he could make his airbending master and general badass girlfriend turn a lovely shade of red.

“You can’t sulk, that’s my job. You’re the eternal sunshine ball remember?”

“True….” Jinora replied though unconvinced by Kai’s words.

Kai nudged her softly “Really. You shouldn’t take these people seriously. Most of them made their money by just existing, living off their family’s legacy and doing nothing with it. But you?”

Jinora felt Kai’s hand slip into hers and give it a squeeze.

“You’re a master airbender.” Kai beamed with pride “You are the granddaughter of avatar and you didn’t just sit on his legacy. You’re changing the world, you’ve saved the world. You can talk to spirits and you make a cute spirit projection thingy.”

Jinora’s fake smile melted into a real one.

Kai’s cheeks were tinged with pink but he didn’t stop “You have done amazing things, selfless things. Don’t let anyone make you feel lesser especially these plebes. I think we wasted enough of our time. We made our appearance and I think it’s safe to assume the nobles are going to keep their promise. They probably wanted to say they got an airbender to show up so they can boast to their friends.”

Before either of them could stand, the group of giggling noblewomen made their way over with a glint of familiarity in their gaze.

“You there!” The oldest one called, pointed at Kai as if he was an attraction at the zoo.

“It’s Kai.” He muttered with barely contained rage.

“Whatever.” She waved him off, uninterested “I’ve seen you before.”

“I doubt it.”

“Yes I have.” The woman insisted “I know have and since I’ve had the finest education, I know I’m right.”

Kai bit his tongue. This was an important mission and it was important to keep civil. Jinora should be proud of him given his usual response was to run away or throw an ill timed comment.

“You were a bus boy.” The noblewoman said with such certainty

“No. I doubt he’d have the hand eye coordination.” one of her friends sneered.

“And that hair?” the other chuckled cruelly “No one would’ve hired him.”

“True.” The leader replied coolly “But I know I’ve seen you somewhere. Somewhere embarrassing.”

“Kai…” Jinora whispered but he was too caught up keeping his rage in check to notice his girlfriend tugging at his sleeve.

“You were poor!” The noblewoman beamed cheerfully. She stood up proudly as if somehow her outburst was something of worth.

Kai’s cheeks burned brightly with a mixture of shame and rage but the trio paid him no mind.

“Yes.” The noblewoman continued, unaware of the rising tensions she had caused “You were out somewhere in the countryside. Some armpit little town daddy was forced to visit and dragged poor me along.”

Her lackeys cooed comfortingly.

“You were doing these little flips and tricks in hopes people would give you money. Of course you barely got a thing so naturally your clothes were just awful. No flair, no style. No wonder I didn’t recognize you. These fancy duds are nice but I’m guessing they’re borrowed. There is no way in a million years you could…”

“Stop it.”

Kai blinked, unsure he heard Jinora correctly. He never, ever in his several months knowing his girlfriend heard her speak with such a dangerous edge in her voice.

“What did you say?” The noblewoman turned up her nose, clearly offended at being interrupted “Do you know who I am? Who my father is?”

Jinora gave a false smile, its coldness sending chills down the trio’s spine.

“You missed the part where I cared.” she spoke with a steely calm “You will not disrespect my fellow airbender in this manner anymore.”

“Airbender?” The leader quizzically titled her head before realization dawn upon her “OH! You mean...him? And yourself?”

Jinora gestured to her traditional air nomad attire “So not only are you unnecessarily rude, you’re blind.”

“How dare...”

Jinora took a step forward, a vicious gust of wind trailing behind. The trio trembled under the sudden cool breeze.

“I understand you’ve lived a sheltered life.” Jinora spoke with the same cold smile “So I will say this once. There are more important things than your silly little shallow problems and the next time you think you can threaten me, I want you to remember I am not only an airbending master, I am the granddaughter of avatar Aang himself. It is my duty as an air nomad to enlighten and help people. Consider this your first lesson.”

Kai could feel his heartbeat speed up at the sight of his girlfriend, fierce and protective all for his sake.

Jinora held his hand tenderly as she motioned for them to leave “Come on Kai, let’s go have some real fun.”

“Yes sweetie.”

[ghoulciifer]

So heard you want Haikyuu request! So when I get mad at someone (VERY rare) I just look at them like 😠. And just kinda shun them like “dont talk to me 😠. That was rude 😠” so i just scoot away from them. I wont walk away from them, ill just go to the other side of the couch or whatever and if they try to console me im like “no! You spoiled my show 😠” and only kinda yell at them if they keep pursuing like “im mad at you” and if they touch me im like “NO! IM MAD AT YOU” is all lmao UHHH PART 2

hc: how Kageyama and Nishinoya react when their S/O gets angry

tw: none (i think?)

tags: angry!reader, haikyuu, eventual comfort/fluff, slight nsfw with noya

notes: ahsgshahajsh i’m the same way when i get angry but i CRY so much, so i kinda felt this one? but i did hc’s for this because i wanted to do it NOW. i love my boys, especially noya. ty for the request, i love you, and my inbox is still open for asks ❥

» i feel like kageyama is just permanently unaware of everything going on around him, like all this boy has on his mind is fuckin’ volleyball and you, ofc

» i also feel like this is a big reason why doesn’t have a filter sometimes... which gets him in trouble.

» you two are just chilling on the couch, all cuddled up together, watching a show you’ve been trying to catch up to him on (because he’s impatient and apparently can’t wait for you to come home smh)

» you’re halfway through a super suspenseful episode, and there’s a huge lead up to a plot twist but it’s just dragging on forEVER

» “ugh, why can’t they just show who dies, already?” you grumble under your breath, beyond irritated, huffing for good measure

» kageyama just

» nonchalantly fuckin’ spoils it

» “oh F/C/N dies, happens next episode.”

» the speed in which your head turns his way is inhuman LMAO

» you’re so angry you can’t even form words, your blood boils as it rushes to your face and your brow is furrowed so deep

» not only did your boyfriend ruin the rest of the episode but YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTER DIES??

» of course kageyama doesn’t notice your death glare until a couple seconds later, looking at you with the most dumbfounded expression

» “...what?”

» you don’t even say anything, just get up, take a deep breath, and walk as calm as possible to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you

» meanwhile kags is still just ?? nani ??

» he leaps into action and tries talking to you through the door but once he hears the tub’s faucet running from your bathroom, he knows it’s your me time and he shouldn’t interfere

» so while you’re soaking up in a hot bath with your favorite scented candle burning at the edge of the tub, listening to your favorite playlist at a comfortable volume,

» kageyama literally sits on the couch and thinks SO HARD about what he could have possibly done wrong ahsgsgshaja this boy

» you were fine before you started watching the show, even after the show started you were quite literally all over him, so where did he go wrong?

» it finally dawns on him that your sudden mood change happened after he spilled the beans on your favorite character’s death

» insert kageyama slamming a palm to his face

» THIS DUDE FEELS SO FUCKIN’ BAD NOW

» he waits at least another 15-20 mins before creeping into the master bath to check up on you, a warm mug of your favorite tea in hand and the sweetest look on his face

» how could you still be mad at him when he’s literally doing the 🥺 face ???

» he crouches at the edge of the tub and leans forward to press a gentle kiss into your temple before setting the mug on the ledge, situating himself so his chin is laying over his folded arms, facing you

» “I’m sorry I’m an idiot... and about F/C/N. I know you liked them a lot.”

» you can’t help but giggle at how precious the moment (or the look on his face) is and you raise a hand to his cheek, rubbing the soft skin over his cheekbone with your damp thumb

» “It’s okay, Tobio, at least I didn’t have to see it. But next time... try not to spoil anything, okay?”

» nishinoya might seem like an air headed tornado to most, but he’s actually pretty perceptive !!

» so he’s always aware of when you’re angry, very in tune with your emotions, constantly tries his best to avoid hurting you or your feelings in anyway

» but uh... he fucks up sometimes.

» you were at your shared home, waiting for him wearing nothing but his old volleyball jersey and his favorite pair of your panties (y’know the ones, with a cute lil’ bow on the front and less fabric in the back ;0)

» there wasn’t really any special occasion but you both made it very clear during a suggestive text conversation earlier in the day that you were going to jump each other’s bones as soon as you got home

» he did let you know he needed to stop by tanaka’s after work to pick something up, but you figured that wouldn’t take long at all, right?

» wrong

» you’ve been nestled in the same spot on the couch for hours, the sun no longer shining into the living room, and you were absolutely steaming from the ears in wait for your boyfriend

» you honestly weren’t even in the mood anymore the longer time dragged on, the show you put on doing nothing to distract you from your aggravation

» eventually you hear the familiar jiggle of your front door and the clanking of keys being hung on the rack before footsteps head your way

» you keep the blanket in your lap wrapped around your waist and sit up, arms crossed, bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly with narrowed eyes

» “Hey, baby! I missed you all da-“

» he tried leaning down for a kiss but you pressed your hand against his lips before they got close enough

» noya is confused for a split second before he notices you’re wearing the one piece of clothing you know will get you laid when you wear it

» “...fuck.”

» “Actually, no, not anymore.”

» you get up from the couch and side step around him, ignoring the way his fingertips brush against your wrist in a failed attempt to grab it

» once you make it to your bedroom you lock yourself in the bathroom to change clothes, wash your face, let your hair down, etc.

» the running water lets noya know you’re starting your nightly routine, and there’s no way you’re doing anything after that

» he’s very aware that you just need to cool off, you got your point across and all that remained was the recovery process

» so he decides to use this time to get himself in his sleep clothes as well and situate the bed in the most comfortable set up possible, the way he knows you like it

» also grabs a snack or two from the kitchen and sets it on your nightstand in case you do decide to talk it out instead of going straight to bed

» he patiently waits for you to emerge from the bathroom as he holds onto the stuffed koala he won for you at some fair years ago HE’S SO CUTE I CAN’T ALDJSHSJAK

» when you finally do come out, donning an old pair of his sweats and an oversized t-shirt, hair brushed and face clean, his face instantly softens

» bc he can’t help but admire how beautiful you look in moments like this 🥺

» once you see the look in his eyes and the stuffed toy in his arms, it’s all over, my guy - you don’t even remember why you were upset in the first place

» you climb on the bed and settle on top of him, head tucked under his chin and arms wrapped underneath his shoulders while he runs his hands up and down your spine, koala bear long forgotten

» “I’m sorry I was out so late, babygirl, I lost track of time... I’ll make it up to you whenever you want, okay? and I’ll hold you like this if you just wanna go to bed.” He finally says after a comfortable silence, kissing the top of your head as he finishes.

» your heart practically melts and suddenly you want to be the one comforting him

» “It’s okay, Yuu. I love you so much.” you lift your head from his chest to give him a sweet kiss as he reciprocates the phrase against your lips

» the kiss lasts much longer than intended and grows in intensity - next thing you know, he’s got you flipped over with his hands sneaking under your shirt to explore your soft skin, mouth latched onto your neck

» his hands wander to the waistband of the sweats resting over your hips and when his fingertips brush over the familiar texture of lace, he looks up at you with the MOST excited look

» “You kept them on?? FOR ME??”