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#LIKE REAL NICE MISH??? ARE YOU KIDDING

brokenmusicboxwolfe · 1 year

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I rewatched The Wicker Man, as you expected if you noticed the poll.

In case you don’t know the movie: Christian nut job cop Prude McJudgie (not actual name) arrives on an island to investigate a missing child. Unfortunately for him, the nice little villagers are all neo-pagan nut jobs. The devout vs the devout! Not to worry, by the time it’s over the locals will give him a very warm farewell. The warmest!

I should say upfront, my brain simply isn’t wired for religion. All religions are equally bizarre and incomprehensible for me. Even in the real world I struggle to tell the difference between why some religion is “main stream” and another is “a cult” baffle me. Don’t ask me to explain the various flavors of christianity. I expect I view the movie differently than those have some religious norms that can be shocked.

So for me the religious clash amuses. You obviously have “sex is sin” colliding with “sex is sacred”, which I expect plenty of people find fun. I also find it fascinating you have the cop coming from a religion that worships people that were sacrificed encountering a society that believes in being hands on with sacrificing, sort of victimization vs being pro active. You have a religion cooked up over a couple thousand years ago by a mish mash of people meeting one that was created less than 200 yrs before by a specific person on fell swoop.

And yet in the end the village isn’t that different than any other little village. People do normal jobs, kids attend school, families function like any family. It’s a parallel universe…

With human sacrifice.

Okay…so maybe the religions here aren’t quite equal.

Human sacrifice is bad! Bad! BAD, BAD villagers! Sacrificing someone, even someone that believes in martyrdom as sacred, against their will, is beyond rude!!

Besides “sacrifice” suggests means something you don’t want to get rid of. Killing a goat can be sacrifice you need that goat, you’ve invested in the goat, there will be a cost in killing the goat. But how does killing someone you met three days before cost you anything?

Killings strangers, prisoners, and the like does have a long history, but that’s because humans also have a long history of willfully misusing the word. No one likes to pay a price, so if the price is human blood wouldn’t you rather use a foe than cousin Joe? But if whatever deities are being sacrificed to actually existed, wouldn’t they be a bit annoyed at such a cheap gift?

I have to admit that in the end I do feel sorry for the protagonist. I hate cops, and growing up in the bible belt as a non-believer has made me a wee bit wary of devote christians, so for most of the movie I’m not sympathetic. But in the famous conclusion to the story I’d have to be a monster not to feel the horror.

Of course, one has to wonder what would have happened if the cop hadn’t gone out there by himself. Maybe cops in that part of the world and era would go off to investigate mysterious letters all by their lonesome, with an open ended return schedule… but it does seem odd. It seems highly unlikely a partner wouldn’t have mucked with the islanders’ plans.

I’ve probably wrote about this movie before, back in the days when I blogged about everything I watched. I’ll just stop now and suggest you go see if I posted something more coherent when I wasn’t such worn down wreck!

#movies #the wicker man #rambles

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seismicsight · 2 years

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for the non lok watchers, could you elaborate on the problems of the rcpd and how it became something that toph didn't want to happen?

Some quick points because I had a nice long draft written and lost it all bc this app hates me:

LoK often strikes a tone that champions the status quo above social progress. There’s a lot of ideological mish mash that basically comes down to neoliberalism as a default, with villains that act as strawmen for the political struggles of the 20th century. As a result, it doesn’t really place a critical eye on the RCPD as a whole, despite its depiction as an arm of the government with a monopoly on violence which serves the interests of the governing elites. This is jarring to a viewership coming out of watching A:tLA, which places its protagonists in direct opposition to unjust institutions in a global conflict, and whose writing makes interesting and balanced criticisms of players within that conflict regardless of social, political, or economic position. The last time the audience saw an elite force of uniquely talented earthbenders take orders from a government official, they watched the Dai Li run a totalitarian shadow government in Ba Sing Se. With this parallel in mind, it’s only natural that they balked at the revelation that Toph - who often expressed her hatred for corrupt and unjust systems - was party to the RCPD’s formation.

Where LoK - and particularly the RCPD- struggles as a fantasy follow-up to its anti-authoritarian, anti-colonial precursor is that it doesn’t take any meaningful steps to distinguish itself from real-world problematic policing institutions. It is depicted as a force that ‘arrests first, asks questions later,’ and has even been a hindrance to the protagonists when their goals ran counter to those of the governing body. The RCPD also looks and feels like a New York police force in the early 20th century, which is another conversation in itself given the implication that the Asian-centric culture of yester-year needed to be Americanized to feel like it was in the future… but I digress.

The knee-jerk reaction is to say “Toph hated rules as a child, why would she enforce laws as an adult?” In the interest of neutrality, it bears noting that on a practical level she is well suited to many aspects of the job. Physically and intellectually, that is. It would have been personally fulfilling in many respects, not the least of which is that it began as a favor to her closest friends and placed her in proximity to them.

Ideologically, though, my interpretation differs from LoK canon because while she is not the activist of the group (that’s Katara) she does have strong opinions & ideals, and has the tenacity and cunning to champion her beliefs regardless of the constraints of her position. Part of me sees the LoK timeline as one where Toph was late in doing the internal work to break the cycle of abuse. What better way to ensure her agency is never challenged again than to wield the institutional power that was so often leveraged against her growing up? What points more clearly towards a trauma response than over-correcting her parenting approach based on what she suffered as a kid?

So in this house, Toph already began working on her shit in her 20s-30s. Through that lens, I don’t think she’d have directly shaped the RCPD into what it is in LoK, but rather founded the department on principles of anti-institutionalization, rehabilitative justice, etc. I’ve outlined my ideas for her tenure as the RCPD founder here and here.

Anyhow, I think it bears noting that the RCPD in LoK is decades removed from Toph’s leadership. So I like to imagine that she did lead a progressive organization that championed accountability, questioned unjust or politically-motivated legislation, and truly served the community… but since she stepped down it has been shaped into something she would not recognize.

#answered;;#headcanon au: esteemed #toph #ATLA #LOK #I’d love to get more people’s nuanced thoughts on cop toph

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cksmart-world · 4 months

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SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

December 26, 2023

AND THE PERSON OF THE YEAR IS... AN AIRPORT?

We've been waiting with baited breath for 364 days and finally it's here. The Salt Lake Tribune's Person of the Year is, wait for it, The Salt Lake City International Airport. We are not making this up. So, you may be asking, how does an airport become a person? Probably the same way corporations became persons and money became speech. It's complicated so try not to think about it too much. The other thing is that The Trib folks may have found themselves in a bind because there weren't a lot of real people standouts in 2023. Gov. Spencer Cox made national news for imploring everyone to disagree more nicely. That didn't cut it. Salt Lake City got tapped to host the 2034 Winter Olympics so The Trib could have made the Kimball Jct. Olympic Park ski jump the person of the year. But no. Here are some other potential would-be Utah Persons of the Year: Attorney General Sean Reyes for helping Tim Ballard find trafficked children with the aid of a psychic. Rep. Chris Stewart for quitting Congress (thank God). Ogden brothers Raland and Loy Brunson who sued to get Joe Biden thrown out of the White House. And finally, The King James Bible that made the news for containing pornography that could get it banned from Utah schools — in which case, more kids would read it.

5 WAYS TO BETTER ENJOY THE NEW YEAR

Well Wilson, we're half way through the 2023 Holiday Season, which is kinda like mile 13 in a marathon — you're thinking, I'll be glad when this is over. Gird your loins and cowboy up. We probably wouldn't have made it this far were it not for a wonderful feature in the Deseret News headlined, “5 ways early Utah pioneers enjoyed Christmas (Holidays) more than Americans today.” This, of course, was before Christmas became a celebration of capitalism and stuff. In the holiday spirit the D News spells out how they embraced the joyous season with 1. Dancing 2. Singing 3. Speaking & Performing 4. Splendid Dinners and 5. Sitting & Visiting. It got the staff here at Smart Bomb to thinking about ways to live out the remainder of the holidays in our times with an emphasis on “live,” as in to survive. 1. Don't drink a lot of eggnog, sweet stuff can give you a bad hangover. 2. To avoid hangovers after too much eggnog, drink a quart of water and take three aspirin before bed. 3. If the bedroom is spinning stick your fingers down your throat and throw up. 4. If you do have a hangover in the morning, avoid visiting your spouse's family. Use any excuse to get out of it — but don't say you're hungover. 5. Before visiting the in-laws it's advisable to have a strong drink or two. Repeat from No. 1.

ESCAPE WINTER — CHEAP JANUARY GETAWAYS

OK, Christmas is over and you're practically broke. It's dark and it's cold, the air tastes like Mag Corp and January has 62 days. What to do — blow out this puke hole! It's really a no-brainer except that you're short on Benjamins and your credit card is about to explode. When things get scary this time of year, Wilson and the Smart Bomb Band jump in the van and take a bead on Death Valley. It's in the mid-60s there and all you need is a tent, a warm bag, a Coleman stove and lots of Ramen, beer and weed (optional). Under sunny skies you can strip down to your skivvies, race desert tortoises and work on a winter tan. But you might have to fight the chuckwalla lizards and horned toads for space on the toasty rocks. If you've got a little more stamina and know someone with a Hobie Cat you can venture to Puerto Peñasco at the tip of the Sea of Cortez, 60 miles from the U.S. border. The town has a shrimp fleet and you can buy it by the kilo for a song along with a case of Mexican Beer. You'll be in heaven. If you're even more adventurous drive another 150 miles south to Guaymas where you can camp at Mish Mash Beach where the original “Catch 22” was filmed. Go easy on the tequila and don't be afraid of the hippies, they're only looking for a good time and they like to share.

Post script — Holy tamale, some dudes in California have succeeded in producing nuclear fusion, when two or more atoms smash together releasing huge amounts of energy. It's the reaction that powers the sun and fusion doesn't create waste that requires long-term storage like present-day fission nuclear reactors do. It's a breakthrough of immense import. But for some Utahns the word “fusion” is like a kick in the gut. That's because in 1989 electrochemists Martin Fleischmann and Stanley Pons announced what they called “cold fusion” that reportedly they created in a Hellmann's Mayonnaise jar. Before you could say, we'll all be rich and famous, then-University of Utah President Chase Peterson announced the mind-blowing details to the world. But alas, no other scientists could replicate their work and it was discovered that Fleischmann and Pons didn't actually detect nuclear reaction byproducts. Oops. The pair along with the University of Utah became late-night TV joke punchlines. Now, however, the scientists at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory have produced energy from nuclear fusion on three separate occasions. The future is here — again. Chase Peterson, Martin Fleischmann and Stanley Pons could not be found for comment. They could be racing desert tortoises in Death Valley.

Well Wilson, talk of Guaymas must bring back some found memories for you and the guys. OK, maybe there were some that weren't all that fun but you can't have adventure unless you go on an adventure. So how about you dust off the wanderlust and give us a theme song for January:

Nibblin' on sponge cake, watchin' the sun bake All of those tourists covered with oil Strummin' my six-string on my front-porch swing Smell those shrimp, they're beginnin' to boil Wasting away again in Margaritaville Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt Some people claim there's a woman to blame But I know it's nobody's fault Don't know the reason, stayed here all season With nothing to show but this brand-new tattoo But it's a real beauty, aMexican cutie How it got here I haven't a clue Wasting away again in Margaritaville Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt Some people claim there's a woman to blame Now I think, "Hell! It could be my fault." I blew out my flip-flop, stepped on a pop top Cut my heel, had to cruise on back home But there's booze in the blender And soon it will render That frozen concoction that helps me hang on Wasting away again in Margaritaville Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt Some people claim there's a woman to blame But I know, it's my own damn fault

("Margaritaville" — Jimmy Buffett)

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multiplayingorg · 2 years

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People Watching

| Repost: Originally posted by Steve "Slurms" Lichtsinn on February 4, 2010

Do you ever people watch? You know, going to the mall and while you are taking a seat while your kids drown themselves in the fountain collecting money for daddy so he can play at the arcade, you take notice of others actions? From the outset, that seems kindof creepy, I know. Maybe it’s because I used to work at the mall, and during slow times, I would have little else to do but watch the mall traffic through the store windows. It was occasionally a nice self check. You could see someone airing their grievances, whether verbally or physically, in the public domain and consider how that looks to others, thus maybe preventing yourself from doing it later in life.

Now, have you ever people watched in game? Sitting in a major city or hub and watched as other run about or yell profanities at each other, kind of the same thing as real life right? I’ve noticed in Global Agenda, I have less time to sit and people watch, and when I do, there’s really not much to look at, other than the one difference that online people watching has with real people watching; Names. In real life, you don’t know everyone’s name; you just see these nameless collections of cells and synapses. Everyone, well, mostly everyone, is at that place in time for a purpose, and how they all move about and react to their environment is based on needs or wants and social experience (or lack thereof). In gaming, quite the same, but people are tagged. By themselves no less.

So it has made some of us here at Multiplaying very curious, when in a game like Global Agenda, when you are stuck with the one name you choose across all your characters, why you would make certain choices. When the only interesting thing to watch about someone in a game is their title, you start to take notice of the pseudonyms used. Some names are rather unoriginal (like Slurm) while others are just a mish-mash of alpha-numeric characters that make no sense. It can be rather amusing to sit back and read the names some people come up with, and makes me wonder how our social interactions would change if people in real life had their given names spelled out for all passers by to see. Would certain names prompt reactive feelings based on previous experiences? Would this evolve into a society where we name ourselves at some point in life as to not be stuck with a socially unacceptable name?

I think I would like to be xXSlurm68+1Xx…..yeah, looks good on a business card.

#throwback thursday

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lewishamil10n · 2 years

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the year is 2050. j2 are at a con to talk about their classic show spn. someone asks a question about sam and dean's relationship, and jensen talks at length about how much dean loves sam and how he thought his speech in the barn scene reflected that perfectly. jared talks about how difficult it was for sam to live without dean. they agree that the boys had a good life together before dean's death, and that their reunion in heaven is the perfect ending for them.

on twitter, a user with a blue and green heart in their username tweets:

haha jackles can pretend all he wants, we all know he hates the finale!! destiheller king 💚💙

another replies:

haha #SexySilence

a third answers:

where are the destiel tapes!! someone violate jensen's privacy and leak them already!

a fourth person says:

i can't wait for jensen to finally be free of his abusive PR friendship so he can be his authentic self with mish #CocklesForever

a fifth person mourns for a group they don't really care about, saying:

it's the queer kids who watched spn that i really feel awful for. what they did was the peak of homophobia and the worst thing that queer people have ever been through #TheySilencedYou

someone adds:

i bet it's jared's fault :/ he's been holding misha back forever, we all know he's always been insanely jealous.

the other five agree.

meanwhile, none of this changes the fact that sam and dean are canon soulmates, who lived out their semi-retirement domestic fantasies in the bunker after years of thinking they could never have that kind of peace. j2 are still attached at the hip, spending insane amounts of time together. they have long since stopped pretending to acknowledge misha's existence, even though every now and then he still tweets inappropriate things about jensen. all six of his remaining fans are delighted by this but no one else cares. jared has gone on to star in several successful shows, and even a few movies. jensen directs all of them. their spin-off short series about sam and dean in heaven was a massive hit.

the twitter user with the hearts in their username posts:

i can't believe jensen would just abandon mish like this :/ that man literally only cares about j*red, it's disgusting :/

the other five agree. they make plans to get #MishaForPresident trending, using every sock account they have at their disposal. it works for five whole minutes, and they begin bombarding the white house account with spam, asking when they'll be swearing misha in. misha tweets:

I'd be a great President, especially with my First Lady at my side @jensenackles

all six of his fans cheer. jensen doesn't respond, because he permablocked misha on twitter after The Great Destihell Shitfest of 2026. he goes on a nice dinner date with jared and posts pictures, with the caption:

Date Night with my boy.

jared likes it immediately and comments:

looking great for a dude pushin' 100! love you brother ❤️

twitter is in uproar. INCEST, they shout. someone tweets:

I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY'RE STILL PANDERING TO THOSE GROSS WINCESTIES UGH I'M SO SICK OF THIS. THEY ALWAYS DO THIS!!!

they are comforted by misha, who posts a link to his stands shop where he's selling a t-shirt with the words LOVE WINS written in feathers over a trenchcoat. a reply arrives immediately:

the only real ally 💚💙 fuck those homophobic assholes, who needs them anyway!!

it receives five likes.

on november 19, jensen posts the barn scene. jared posts the bridge reunion. they talk about how much spn means to them and how much they still care about sam and dean. they don't mention misha at all, even when he posts his own crying face from his final scene.

the more things change, the more they stay the same.

#this was supposed to be a short snarky post and it became a monster lmao #j2 #anti destiel #anti destihellers #anti misha collins #naila.txt #salt tag #shitposting #this is inspired by hellers STILL gaslighting themselves into believing jensen is one of them #even after jensen talked at length abt the finale lol which he clearly doesn't hate #such stupidity can only inspire mockery

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snackhobi · 4 years

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pairing: hoseok x reader / word count: 26.8k / genre: fluff, smut, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, slow burn, technically a buzzfeed unsolved AU but you don’t need to be familiar with BFU at all so dw!

summary: having hoseok as your best friend and co-host for your web series is a dream come true. the only hitch? you’re kind of in love with him, and it’s getting harder to ignore that fact, even if he doesn’t feel the same for you.

warnings: idiots being oblivious, sexually explicit content, oral (f receiving + brief mentions of m receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), body worship + praise (f receiving), a lot of soft emotions and pet names, hoseok treating reader like a pillow princess

a/n: the more I read this the less happy I am with it but after the amount of time I’ve spent on it/how long it’s gotten, I’m calling it finished (even if it’s a lot lighter on paranormal related stuff than I’d initially planned OOPS...) please feel free to let me know what you think AHH x

Jung Hoseok is a lot of things.

Jung Hoseok is: a work-friend-turned-real-friend-turned-best-friend, and one of your favourite people in the world.

Jung Hoseok is: very easily scared, the opposite of a thrillseeker, Not A Fan of big rollercoasters, or haunted houses, or anywhere that involves jump scares or loud noises or anything vaguely dangerous or threatening.

Jung Hoseok is: a man with ridiculous lung capacity who can also screech so loudly that you’re fairly certain he could shatter glass if he wanted to.

“It’s just a bat, hyung,” Jimin says, before the bat comes back round and Hoseok shrieks again.

Jung Hoseok is: clinging to you with a vice-like grip as aforementioned bat flutters above you, squeaking and trilling, and you stroke his hand in an absent, instinctual motion, trying to soothe him.

“I definitely heard footsteps as well,” Hoseok whimpers. “Why are we here?”

Why are you here? Well, because Jung Hoseok is also: your co-host for one of BigHit’s most popular series, BigHit Unsolved.

It’s funny, in a roundabout sort of way, that Hoseok’s general fear of Most Things had been the thing that had cinched him his spot. You’d never expected Unsolved to explode in the way it had, starting off as a short video series with Yoongi beside you to bounce off as you described unsolved crimes, but then Hoseok had starred opposite you and the audience had just eaten it up: the way he got spooked at real life events, the modulation of his voice when it would rise or dip in fear, the way you riffed off each other- you, calm but enthused about your topic, and Hoseok, a quivering jelly of a man when scared.

Not to mention that Hoseok is just great on screen anyway, personable and bright and charming. He makes you laugh and brings out a level of exuberance in you in a way that no one else can, makes you do ridiculous things without even trying- your interactions are good video fodder, basically, and your audience loves how your friendship comes across on the show.

And that’s another funny thing. You’d known Hoseok before Unsolved, of course, because everyone knows Hoseok, because Hoseok is wonderful, a sunshine of a man, loved by all. You, however, hadn't really spoken much to him- when you'd started at BigHit you'd been crushing on Hoseok in kind of a big way and you'd been worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him, so… you'd done the logical thing of avoiding him as much as was possible without being rude or weird. Face your problems and anxieties? In this economy? Haha, you don't think so.

Anyway. Because of this, your interactions had been pretty limited up until you’d asked him to appear in one of your videos. If anyone asked it was because you’d thought he would be a fun, one-off guest star, which was true, but the main reason was that Yoongi had cancelled because he was sick and no one else had been free when you’d been scrabbling around the office for a replacement. Despite not knowing you all too well, and despite being scared easily by true crime (“my mum watched CSI when I was a kid and it gave nightmares,” he’d told you afterwards), Hoseok had heard about your plight and was happy to replace Yoongi for the episode, and you’d found out that- despite your initial worry that you were going to make things weird- you get on really well.

Like, really well. Not just on camera, either. Before they’d started to roll, you’d been frantically making sure everything was in place, that you had all your notes, that all the pre-production was ready- and Hoseok had made you stand still, taking your hands in his, and he’d smiled at you in a way that had been so warm and comforting that all the tension had leaked out of you. After that it had just been so easy. You’d felt relaxed and the episode had come out great, and then Hoseok suggested that you grab lunch together in the cafeteria so you could get to know each other more. Of course you’d agreed- and the rest is history.

It didn’t take long for Hoseok to turn from a nice and funny colleague, to someone you actively looked for at work gatherings, to someone who you decided to ask to be your permanent co-host for the show, to someone who now has a spare key for your flat in case he ever runs out of snacks or just feels like dropping by. Which he feels like doing a lot, apparently, but you have a key for his place too, so it’s all even stevens. (You steal a lot of his face masks whenever you visit him and he never complains.)

Over time your huge crush on Hoseok has ebbed into a deep platonic love, fading and morphing into a comfortable friendship. Okay, sure, you still think he’s the most beautiful person in the universe and you’d immediately accept if he asked you to marry him and you kind of want to kiss him on the mouth sometimes (a lot of the time) or whatever, but that’s because you know how wonderful he is. It’s platonic. Not romantic. Mmhm. (Mostly.) Either way, you're completely comfortable around him despite any lingering feelings you might have, which is something you appreciate more than you can put into words.

So fast forward to now, multiple seasons into your show, and you’re more than used to Hoseok’s fear and touch. It had been startling, at the beginning, when Hoseok had grabbed onto you whenever he was afraid, but now you’re used to navigating places in the dark while Hoseok clings onto you like a particularly oversized backpack or holds your hand like a lost school child. (You’ve lost count of the minutes, nay, hours of footage that exist of Hoseok doing this, like some sort of gangly limpet, but you don’t mind.) Fans love to splice together footage comparing interactions over the seasons and it’s very obvious how wide eyed and stiff you used to go whenever Hoseok seized you, but now? This is your every day, baby.

Hoseok is still cowering behind you as the lone bat flaps above you, high up in the rafters of the old generator building you’re standing in. You and your crew and your guide are the only people at the abandoned gold mine, so Hoseok can’t have heard footsteps, other than your own- which is what you tell him.

“I think it was the building settling, Hobi,” you say. “This mining warehouse is pretty old.”

“Old and full of ghosts.” Hoseok moans. Jimin readjusts the camera and you know that, without a doubt, he’s zooming in on Hoseok’s terrified face. Namjoon’ll have some fun shots to edit later. Jimin is a very capable cameraman, and also unruffled by ghosts/loud noises/etc, but he does love to catch some interesting angles of the two of you. At least Taehyung refrains from doing that, although he does sometimes get too focused on making a shot artistic rather than capturing the abject terror on Hoseok’s face when it would be a good clip for the final video.

“Well, we don’t know that.” You pause. “Maybe we should test it with the spirit box to find out?”

Hoseok’s face twists and you can’t help but laugh.

The supernatural half of the show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Your fans enjoyed his eternal suffering and fear whenever anything remotely spooky was mentioned, so they'd bandied about the idea of a paranormal-themed season and you'd taken the idea on board; the juxtaposition between yourself and your co-host was all the more defined when he was banshee shrieking at some innocuous sound while you stayed calm. You’re open to the concept of the supernatural but have yet to come across any evidence that you find compelling enough to make you a believer, while Hoseok is convinced in the existence of ghosts and finds the idea terrifying.

He doesn’t like the spirit box because of this, but you don’t mind it- although you don't really like the loud static it makes when it’s scanning through radio frequencies, trying to pick up if any spirits or ghouls are trying to talk to you. (They’re not, even if Hoseok insists that the random bursts of sound it spits out are definitely coherent words and sentences, rather than a mish-mash of random rubbish that it just happens to pick from normal radio waves.)

The spirit box, of course, is about as interesting as normal: that is to say, not really at all, though you have a good laugh after you ask for any spirits to give you a name and the only response is ‘pineapple pie’, which makes you feel hungry. Hoseok lets you rummage around in his pocket for a cereal bar, which you end up munching on between shots, as Hoseok swats bugs away from your faces. He attempts to karate chop a mosquito but misses by miles and you almost choke on a mouthful of oats as he makes the world’s most incredulous face and you giggle.

“We should make pineapple pie for a video at some point,” you suggest, and Hoseok is briefly distracted from his fear- he’d given up on the bugs and has been shining his torch over your shoulder at some old generator equipment and casting warped shadows on the walls behind it, dark silhouettes that could admittedly be considered a little spooky. “I’ve never had pineapple pie before.”

“There’s a Filipino bakery near our place that sells it!” Taehyung jumps in before Hoseok can respond, turning away from where he and Jimin have been making shadow puppets on the wall with their own torches. “It’s so good, you should definitely do it.”

Hoseok hums. “Jin-hyung would probably be happy to help out,” he says. You finish the cereal bar and tuck the wrapper back into Hoseok’s pocket, making a mental note to get in touch with the Tasty team member to ask him about it. He’ll leap at the opportunity.

There’s a clattering noise somewhere far in the distance, probably rocks shifting or something, and Hoseok squeaks and crowds even closer to you, as impossible as that is with how he’s already wrapped around your back at this point, the harness for his chest-mounted camera digging into your spine. It’s a familiar sensation by this point. “Please can we get out of here now?”

“Sure,” you say indulgently, stroking Hoseok’s arm where it’s wrapped around your collarbones. “We need to drive down to the mining tunnels now anyway.”

Hoseok keeps hold of your hand as your guide drives you to your location, squeezing your fingers every time the car goes over a bump- which is pretty often on the rocky dirt track. Hoseok’s fairly touchy in general, always holding hands or hugging or kissing people, raining little pecks over their faces, and it had been Very Overwhelming when he’d first turned this attention to you. You’re not, like, not touchy, but back in season 1 you were definitely not used to spending time with someone who loves skinship as much as Hoseok does, and it had taken time for you to stop freezing up every time he casually touched or grabbed you.

It says a lot about how used you are to it now that you don’t even bat an eyelid when he wriggles into your twin bed at the hotel later, curling up around you once he’s finished his meticulous skincare routine. “Your bed is over there, Hobi,” you say, although you immediately snuggle back into him, letting him spoon you. He’s always a lot clingier after you finish filming a supernatural episode- as if you can ward off any ghosts that might have decided to hitch a ride back from wherever you’d come from.

“I know,” Hoseok replies. He hitches a leg over yours, sighing happily when you reach an arm down to rub his calves. He always sleeps better if you massage him.

“I can’t wait to get home.” You dig your fingers into a muscle and Hoseok squirms a little. You huff out a laugh. “Arizona is so hot.”

“You look cute in shorts, though,” Hoseok says. He’s been saying the same thing all day.

“You just like shorts.” He’d been wearing shorts too, pretty much matching his clothes to yours; at this point you’re starting to wonder if he looks through your luggage before he packs his own stuff, because your outfits end up being eerily similar a lot of the time. You think he finds it reassuring, maybe, when you’re somewhere unfamiliar. Or maybe it’s because Hoseok’s fashion has influenced your own over the years. You definitely own a lot more bright clothing than you used to, not to mention the matching items you’ve both purchased together anyway.

Now that you think about it, Hoseok really has been a big influence on you, huh.

He falls asleep pretty soon after, going lax and limp as his breaths deepen and he dozes off. He always falls asleep before you do, awake one second and flat out the next; you envy his ability to drop off like that, usually taking a lot longer yourself, but you do find it good that he’s able to sleep so quickly despite his earlier fear. He always crashes at yours after you finish filming an episode when you’re home, too, otherwise he says he’s up all night with the fear- this is all part and parcel of Hoseok being your co-host and partner on the show, and honestly, you don’t mind it at all.

So you're used to this. When Hoseok makes a little noise in his sleep and starts shifting behind you, you lift his hand to your mouth and gently kiss his knuckles, running your thumb down his wrist- he settles immediately, going lax again. You'll chase away any nightmares with soft touches, shuffling around in his grip and holding him tight if you need to, before eventually drifting off yourself, safe and warm in the circle of his arms.

Even though you usually fall asleep after Hoseok, one thing you have over him is the fact you’re a morning person and find it a lot easier to get up with the sun. Despite your late night, you’re awake moments before your phone alarm starts to ring, turning it off before it can rouse Hoseok out of his sleep. When you slide out of the bed he stirs a little, instinctively reaching out for you in his sleep, and you carefully put a pillow in his arms so he can hold onto that instead; he settles down once he has the pillow hugged to his chest, and you take a moment to look at him fondly and gently kiss his forehead before you start to get ready for the day.

You’re pretty much done by the time Hoseok sits up at the sound of his own alarm, blinking blearily in your direction as you turn it off for him. He’s still holding onto the pillow as he sits up.

“Morning, honey,” you chirp. “You want coffee?”

Hoseok stares at you for a second, eyes squinting as he tries to wake up fully. “Morning,” he replies, voice hoarse from sleep, and you smile. “Please.”

When you’d first found out that Hoseok wasn’t a morning person, you’d honestly been gobsmacked. He’s just so bright and energetic that you figured he rolled out of bed like that- it just makes sense- but it actually takes him a surprisingly long time to get fully up to speed with his normal self. He’s a little slower, a little softer, draping himself over your back as you fiddle with the room's coffee machine to try and get some caffeine into him.

“We can always get some more at the airport,” you say conversationally, and Hoseok hums quietly into your hair before dropping a kiss there. “It’s a shame we don’t have time to eat at the breakfast buffet.”

Despite his morning slowness, he’s still ready on time; he’s always punctual, is your Hoseok. You make up for missing breakfast at the hotel by purchasing tons of snacks for the flight to Pennsylvania, munching a pre-wrapped croissant as you read off your phone while Jimin dozes next to you, his head resting against the window. You’re sandwiched between him and Hoseok, who has the aisle seat- he cranes his head at your pastry and you tilt it against his lips so he can take a bite. You end up with a lapful of crumbs, but that’s okay.

“So where are we off to next?” Hoseok asks once he’s done chewing, peering at your phone screen. Across the aisle from you, Taehyung very loudly unwraps a pain au chocolat, much to the irritation of the woman next to him.

“We’re going to an old prison,” you say, and Hoseok meeps. “A penitentiary, to be exact.”

Taehyung shoves the pain au chocolat into his mouth whole so he has his hands free, fumbling for his phone as he starts to film how the colour drains from Hoseok’s face as you give him a brief synopsis of the prison and other places you’ll be going to while in Pennsylvania. This isn’t even for Unsolved; Taehyung just likes to have video evidence and receipts for everything, if his camera reel is anything to go by. Even though you’re vague with your descriptions- you like Hoseok’s reaction on camera to be as unscripted and natural as it can possibly be, when you finally turn up at your locations and then set up so that you can talk about it- once you’re finished, Hoseok is curled up against you, hiding his face in your neck.

“Why can’t we go somewhere nice for once?” He whines, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Budget doesn’t cover it, that’s why we have to sleep at haunted hotels. They’re cheaper.” Hoseok meeps again, and you relent, lifting your hand to cup the back of his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you,” you say, stroking his hair as you use your free hand to clumsily scroll through your phone, double checking the details of your planned trip.

“I know.” Hoseok is uncharacteristically quiet against your collarbones. Taehyung gives up filming and rips into another pain au chocolat packet, smiling guiltily at his seat neighbour when she tuts at him. “You never do.”

Despite Hoseok’s fear of a lot of things related to the show, and the fact he jumps and screams at pretty much everything, he’s never asked to bow out or avoid doing something. He even agrees to go into areas alone when the two of you try to ‘make contact’ with spirits, even though he’s obviously terrified- but each and every time before you part, you promise that you’re not going anywhere and you’ll be waiting right outside for him. You would never abandon Hoseok (even though ghosts probably aren’t real and he has nothing to worry about), and he knows that, and takes strength from it. It warms you.

He keeps his head nestled against your neck for a beat longer, and then smacks a loud kiss against your skin, which makes you squeal and slap him away while he laughs.

As fun as it is to jet around the country- especially with Hoseok and the other guys- it's also exhausting, and there’s always something nice about coming home. Even though the increased budget that you’ve been allocated as the show’s been growing in popularity means that you can stay at nicer hotels now, your own bed is still the most comfortable place in the world. (Well, tied with Hoseok’s bed, thinking about it. The two are basically interchangeable at this point anyway, if you consider how often Hoseok ends up sleeping at your apartment and squirreling his way under your blankets as you’re trying to sleep.)

On the other hand, though, in spite of a return to your regular creature comforts, coming home still involves work: there are Q&As to be filmed, footage to edit, later episodes to plan, research to be done. As the original progenitor of Unsolved you take the brunt of the last two parts; Hoseok is the one who reacts to the facts you throw out, he’s not the one who investigates the different things you talk about on the show, but he’s always there to support you and talk to you whenever you need it.

(Your audience knows Hoseok as someone who is cute and bright and cheerful, but he’s also quietly thoughtful and surprisingly serious when he has to be. That’s the side of him that you get to see whenever you stay late at the office, your desk lamp the only one left on in the room, hunched over your keyboard as you trawl through conspiracy threads in the deep bowels of the internet that are discussing who D.B. Cooper is. You love loud Hoseok, of course, but you appreciate this hushed part of him, too- the way he'll deliver you a hot chocolate with a kiss to your forehead before quietly sitting beside you and waiting for you to finish so he can take you home.)

Anyway. Coming home means coming back to the office, means putting in shifts at BigHit headquarters, etc, etc, all that jazz, so here you are, sitting on Hoseok’s lap and scrolling through your tablet as he does something of his own on his PC. The first time this had happened, it had raised eyebrows- not because it was considered inappropriate or anything, as BigHit is the kind of place where people can make out in hallways to ‘test the longevity of this 24 hour lipstick’ for a video and no one bats an eyelash, but because up until this point, you’d been renowned for pretty much being glued to your desk while working. But you like Hoseok and his energy, even when he’s not doing anything, and his lap is comfortable, even if he doesn’t exactly have the world’s thickest thighs. You work better when you’re around him.

You’re scrolling through Instagram comments for questions to answer in this week’s Q&A episode when someone clears their throat. Both you and Hoseok look up in tandem to find Seokjin standing there, looking decidedly more grey-haired than he had the last time you’d seen him. He pulls it off effortlessly, of course.

“What’s up, silver fox?” You let your tablet droop into your lap as Hoseok takes his hands off his mouse and keyboard and secures them around your waist instead, so you don’t slide off his legs. His hands are warm where they splay across your stomach and you can feel the bumps and texture of his bracelets through the material of your shirt. “Liking the new look, by the way.”

“You look really good, Jin-hyung,” Hoseok says from over your shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“I know.” Jin sounds flippant but he seems pleased. He doesn’t say anything more than that, though, and just looks at the two of you expectantly. You both blink back at him.

“So… did you come over just to be complimented, or?” You slowly start to lift your tablet, acting as if you’re about to start reading off your screen again. “Were the thirsty comments on your latest video not enough for you today?”

Jin raises an eyebrow as he pretends to inspect his nails. “No, no, there were plenty of comments, as always,” he says loftily. Unsurprising, considering his unofficial(/basically official) title of Most Handsome Face in the office as well as the leagues of fans he has. He lets his hand drop as he quickly gives up pretending to be aloof. “So when are you planning to fit making pineapple pie into your schedule?”

“Oh!” Hoseok squeezes you in his excitement and you wiggle a little in his lap. “I almost forgot about that! Did Tae mention it to you?”

“Jimin too. They burst into the kitchen while I was filming and they were both holding a piece of Filipino pineapple pie aloft like they were wielding Excalibur, so, yes, you can say that it was mentioned,” Jin says, and you can’t help but wince. Being interrupted while filming is one thing, but the Tasty studio can be hazardous on top of that (y’know, what with the knives and fire and stuff), so you can only hope that Jin wasn’t using a mandolin or something when they had appeared.

“Oof.” You wiggle your hips again and Hoseok immediately catches your drift, turning his chair so the two of you are facing Jin fully rather than having to turn your heads to look at him. Jin makes a weird expression, something you can’t put a name to, but it slips away too fast for you to catch properly- maybe he just had a sudden chill or something, who knows. “Sorry about them. How about I email you our filming schedule and you can see when you’re free as well? We were going to film a 70th episode retrospective soon and the pineapple pie video might be a nice sort of bonus on top of that.”

Jin agrees easily. You use your tablet to open the Google Calendar that you have with Hoseok, which makes Jin pause when he notices. “You share a GCal?”

“Duh?” You flick a look at Jin through your lashes. You and Hoseok have GCal where you input your work schedules to avoid potential clashes when you need to film together, but you also put in other plans the two of you have outside of work, if it’s ever necessary. “Why wouldn’t we? It makes it easier when we need to plan things for Unsolved.”

“Uh-huh.” Jin sounds sceptical, but you decide not to address it. You miss the look he gives Hoseok as you scroll through your calendar, the two men having a silent exchange as you start to draft an email. Somewhere across the office you hear Yoongi shout out an expletive and two sets of cackling laughter that sound suspiciously like Taehyung and Jungkook; you and Hoseok turn at the sound, but you don’t spot anything from where you’re sat. “Alright, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Jin says, and promptly dips before he gets dragged into whatever’s going on.

Whatever shenanigans Jungkook and Taehyung have gotten up to seem to be pinpointed to one area, so you avoid any fall out, and Hoseok eventually excuses himself to go to the toilet. You take over his chair while he’s gone. Asides from yourself, both computers at this desk are entirely abandoned- Yoongi is still absent, nowhere to be seen- and you’re tapping away at your tablet when all of a sudden you have a camera shoved in your face.

For once it’s not Jimin or Taehyung or Jungkook, and instead when you look up you see Irene and Seulgi, the latter girl beaming at you while Irene holds the camera. Seulgi says your name and points at you with a perfectly manicured nail, and you blink at her, completely caught off guard. Irene zooms in on your bewildered expression.

“Um, hey guys,” you say. “What’s up? Need me for something?”

“We wanted to ask if you wanted to guest star in the next Ladylike video!” Seulgi chirps brightly, and you’re immediately on guard. While the offer seems innocent enough on the surface you can’t help but wonder if the next video is one of their wilder ones (you don’t care if the underwear is silver-infused and apparently wicks away smell and moisture, you flat out refuse to wear the same panties for a whole week). Fortunately your fears are assuaged when Seulgi seems to read your mind and answers your question before you have the chance to ask it. “We’re trying to recreate elaborate Instagram makeup looks with dollar store makeup.”

Irene giggles behind the camera when you visibly relax. “I’m in, that sounds fun,” you say, and both girls seem inordinately pleased. “Um, when are you planning to shoot it?”

“Tomorrow! It won’t take long, we promise,” Seulgi says. “You just need to be free for filming, we’ll do all the editing and stuff.”

You finalise the exact time you need to be available by and by the time Hoseok comes back from the toilet both girls have just gone. You stand up so that he can reclaim his seat, eyes glued to your tablet as you open up your Google Calendar so you can put the Ladylike video filming in, but you’re interrupted when Hoseok grabs you. You squeal in surprise when he tugs you back down rather than letting you sit down yourself, tablet getting sandwiched between the two of you as you end up straddling him in a desperate attempt to catch your balance- but before you can resituate yourself he starts to tickle you and you end up laughing uproariously into his face.

“Cute, cute, my Y/n is so cute,” he sing-songs, and you continue to laugh as you try to bat his hands away.

“Stop, oh my God, Hobi!” There are tears of laughter in the corners of your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to get away from his hands but being prevented from doing so by the desk at your back; you’re trapped between it and Hoseok, entirely at his mercy as the two of you giggle at each other.

“You realise other people work here, right?”

Yoongi has finally reappeared. He sounds disgruntled, but you put it down to the fact he has KITTY AVAILABLE FOR ADOPTION and a phone number scrawled across his face in what appears to be permanent marker, rather than at the fact that you and Hoseok are making noise. As Hoseok’s deskmate he’s used to this sort of behaviour by now.

“Hey hyung,” Hoseok says, shameless as his fingers continue to dance up and down your sides, although the touches are light enough now that you can turn your attention away from giggling to appreciate Yoongi’s new look. “Did you have a good nap?”

“A cat nap,” you say, and then giggle at the unimpressed look Yoongi throws your way- it’s hard to find him scary with the multi-coloured letters scribbled over his face.

He grunts as he sits down. “I’ll kill those kids,” he says, but there’s no real heat behind his words, and he slumps into his chair with a resigned sigh. “I kept scrubbing at my face but this shit won’t come off.”

You exchange a look with Hoseok, the two of you thinking about the hand sanitiser you keep in your handbag- the alcoholic gel would probably lift the ink off Yoongi’s face, but neither of you offer up this information. “I’m sure it’ll come off by tomorrow,” you say, and Yoongi makes a hopeful noise at the back of this throat. "Any particular reason why you've decided to act as a walking billboard for abandoned cats?"

"Thing 1 and Thing 2 said they were raising awareness for a local cat shelter and asked if I wanted to help. I said yes." Yoongi sounds rueful.

"I feel very aware of it, hyung, so I'd say they did a good job." Hoseok laughs when Yoongi just flips him off.

Hoseok’s hands have gone still by this point. It’s not until Yoongi starts to tap at his keyboard that you remember the position you’re in, straddling Hoseok in his chair, your hands on his shoulders and his hands on your waist as you lean back against his desk- but as questionable and potentially incriminating as this entire situation seems out of context, literally no one is batting an eyelid. People are used to seeing this sort of thing from you two, both comfortable and not awkward with each other at all.

Hoseok's hands are warm and steady where they wrap around your waist. You're struck again by how large they feel- supportive, as always, when he holds you.

"Mind letting me go, cowboy?" You say. "I should go back to my desk to get some work done."

"You're more of a cowboy in this situation," Hoseok says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Seeing as you're the one that's doing the riding."

"Good lord," Yoongi mutters.

You laugh at the expression on his face before Hoseok wheels you both away from the desk so that you have room to swing your legs off him. "That's dirty, Hobi," you say, but it's said with a smile and wink.

After you've disappeared, waving at the two men, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Hoseok. "I know you two are basically married at this point, but can you try and rein in the flirting when I'm trying to work?"

"We weren't flirting," Hoseok protests. Yoongi looks unconvinced, his other eyebrow rising to match the first, and just shakes his head before he resumes Googling ways to get the permanent marker off his face.

Irene’s touch is light as she puts the makeup onto your face, surveying her work critically as she does.

“Alright, that’s the foundation done,” she says, once everything seems to have passed whatever rigorous criteria she has. “So we're onto the concealer next.”

There’s something soothing about having someone else do your makeup. Not to mention that you don’t have to worry at all about the production of the video- with your usual projects, your level of investment means that there’s always something to think about, but right now all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. You do listen and react whenever Irene shows you the products and so on, but otherwise, you are literally just sitting there and letting the other woman put stuff on your face; you can relax and unwind and let her take the lead.

Irene has just finished blending the concealer under your eyes when your phone vibrates in your pocket. While she's rummaging for the next product- setting powder- you quickly check your phone to see if it's anything important. It's Hoseok, asking where you are, because he has a coffee and Danish pastry for you and he can't find you; you realise then that you never put the Ladylike video filming into your calendar, distracted by Hoseok grabbing you, and today you'd just disappeared without telling him where you were going. Oops.

You quickly shoot him a reply before Irene starts to brush the powder across your face and you're both surprised at how well it sets. "Your skin is so nice," Irene says with a smile, sweeping the brush over your cheeks. You try not to laugh when the bristles tickles your face, flattered at her comment.

She's just finished doing your brows when you hear the studio door open and you catch sight of Hoseok. He's staying off camera next to Wendy so he doesn't get in the shot, quiet and unobtrusive, but you can't help but perk up when you see him. Although you stay silent so that it doesn’t interrupt the filming, Irene notices how you brighten and pauses in her motions to look over where Hoseok is standing.

"Hi, Hoseok." Much to your surprise, despite the fact that the cameras are rolling, Irene still greets Hoseok. You thought she'd make him wait until you were done. "You're here for Y/n, I presume?"

"I have a coffee for her," Hoseok says, a little sheepish, holding up an iced macchiato and a paper bag that's got a small grease stain spreading on it, a tantalising glimpse of the deliciousness inside. "I just came to drop it off?"

"I don't deserve you, Hobi," you say, beaming, and he smiles back at you.

Irene gestures for Hoseok to come into the frame. There’s a brief moment where you and Hoseok exchange a small, surprised look- Irene is rummaging through eyeshadow palettes and seems like she’s still going through with the video even though Hoseok is about to walk on set- but he acquiesces and steps into the shot. Irene points at the Instagram photo she has open on her iPad, which is propped on the table so she can use it for reference and zoom in if necessary. “We’re doing this look with dollar store products."

“Woah,” Hoseok says, leaning down to peer at the picture, and he sounds suitably awed. “That’s really nice. You’ve chosen one with all of Y/n’s favourite colours.”

“It’s cute, right?” You’re so excited to see the final product, even if it ends up not looking as good as what you can see on the screen, considering the cheapness of the makeup that Irene is using.

“Not as cute as you,” Hoseok says, and you blow him a kiss before looking at the iced macchiato in his hands meaningfully.

“Coffee, coffee?” You sound hopeful but Irene tuts.

“You’ll need to keep your eyes shut while I do your eyeshadow,” she says.

Before you can begin to feel disappointed, Hoseok comes to the rescue. “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you.”

And so that’s how you end up with Hoseok holding the straw of your iced coffee up to your lips while Irene applies the different shades and shimmers to your eyelids, your eyes shut as she does so; Hoseok makes appropriate ooh-ing noises, bowled over by how she manages to blend the cheap eyeshadows before doing a cut crease- you have to keep your eyes shut the whole time, letting the concealer dry on your lids so that it doesn’t smudge, gauging how it looks based on Hoseok's reactions.

Every so often Hoseok will make a small noise and then you’ll feel the straw press up against your lips, and you’ll take a sip of your drink while Irene is switching colours or brushes; you feel thoroughly pampered today and you’re enjoying it immensely. She’s been describing the different products and their quality to the camera throughout the whole video, but now that Hoseok’s there, he responds to what she’s saying, making her giggle with how enthusiastic he is despite not recognising all the terminology she’s using. Although your eyes are shut you can't help but smile: that's your Hoseok, always lightening the atmosphere and making people laugh.

“Alright, you can open your eyes,” Irene says after what feels like a lifetime. The liquid eyeliner has dried by the time your eyes flutter open, the stark blackness against the expertly blended eyeshadows the first thing you notice when you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Woah, Irene! This is incredible!" You turn your head from side to side, taking in how different your eyes look after the ministrations of Irene's skilled hands. "Hobi, look at those wings! I wish I could get mine that even.” You don’t often wear liquid liner and when you do it takes you eons to get them to match, making each side bigger as you try to match the other- most of the time you just give up.

“You do look incredible,” Hoseok agrees. You look away from the mirror to smile brightly at him and then take another drink of coffee when he lifts it back up to your lips; the straw makes loud slurping noises as you reach the bottom of the cup and you end up sucking up more air than liquid, much to your disappointment. He chuckles at the look on your face but then coos when you pout.

“I’m not done just yet, you know,” Irene says, unperturbed by your interactions. You wonder how this footage is going to turn out after the edit. “We still have lips and cheeks to do.”

Despite the fact your coffee is finished, Hoseok still remains next to you and watches Irene work. She lines your lips and then paints them a pleasant nude colour, before going in with an extra touch to your contour, and blush, and highlight (you’re genuinely in awe at the selection of makeup you can apparently get for a dollar each). There are so many steps involved in the execution of this look and you wonder how long it would take you to try and do this yourself, before deciding there aren’t enough hours in the day, even if Irene makes it look easy, finishing your face with a flourish.

“Alright, done!”

You pick the mirror up to tilt your head at different angles. You catch the way the highlight shimmers on your cheekbones and cupid’s bow, the way your eyes look after they’ve been shaded with colour and glitter, the sharpness of your brows, the fullness of your lips.

“I can’t believe this was all dollar store makeup,” you say, awestruck. “It’s so much like the photo! I look so good.”

“Irene had an already perfect canvas to work with,” Hoseok says, and you end up smiling so widely your eyes almost squeeze shut.

“Flatterer,” you say.

“You two are so cute.” Seulgi sighs wistfully from behind the cameras and Wendy muffles a quiet cough into her palm.

Irene asks for your opinions on the makeup- you, moreso on how it feels on your face, and Hoseok, if he thinks it looks close to the Instagram photo (he does, but he's clearly biased because you're involved, which he doesn't try to hide). Once the cameras have been cut and everything has been wrapped up, Irene says you can go and so you hop off your chair. Before you can get too far, though, Hoseok stops you, touching his fingers gently under your chin.

“Let me have a proper look.”

You immediately relax and let him tip your head slowly from one side to the other, eyes scanning across your makeup, which feels a lot heavier than you’d expected, but you’re still happy with how nice it is.

“Wah, so beautiful,” Hoseok says, a small smile on his face; it’s one of his softer ones, one that doesn’t show his teeth or his dimples, but rather squeezes his eyes into crescents, his gaze warm. Still blinding but in a different way.

“Irene did a really good job, didn’t she?” You say, enthused. Hoseok pauses, but then his teeth show as the smile grows.

“Yeah, she did.”

"Maybe I should get her to give me makeup lessons so I can look prettier more often." You've never been all too great at the more refined parts of makeup- blending eyeshadow or contouring, for example- but maybe you should add it to your repertoire, you muse.

Hoseok's smile dims as he becomes oddly sombre, hand shifting to cup the bottom of your chin so your face is gently cradled in his hand. "You're gorgeous all the time, makeup or not," he says. "Makeup is fun and you do look great but please don't think you need it to be pretty."

A shy smile plays at your lips. You feel bashful but you can't hide from Hoseok's gaze when he's holding onto you like this, but it wouldn’t matter even if you did. Hoseok knows you well enough to read your moods if you attempt to hide them- but because you trust him you don’t try to.

"Ahh, you're too sweet to me, Hoseok," you murmur. He always compliments you, but the thing with Hoseok is that he always means it, and although you should be used to it, it still catches you off guard every time.

"You deserve it." The soft smile has returned to his face and he lets his fingers drop away from your chin to tangle with yours to lead you out of the studio. “Now come on, you still have your pastry to eat.”

“I totally forgot about that! Oh, but I’ll probably smudge my lipstick.” Your sudden excitement about food dips instantly as you realise this. “I mean, I doubt dollar store stuff has much staying power anyway, but it’ll definitely smear onto the pastry, like, immediately.”

“I’ll cut it up into small pieces for you,” Hoseok says, and you make a noise of happiness as the door to the Ladylike studio shuts behind you both.

Seulgi and Wendy and Irene all look at each other, the two of you all but forgetting that they'd been standing there and had thus witnessed that entire exchange in excruciating detail. Wendy and Seulgi both open their mouths but before they can speak Irene holds up a hand. “I know,” she says. “Trust me. I know.”

Around the office, Jin might be renowned for his silliness, propensity towards dad jokes and loud laughter, but on set- while he’s still very much himself- he’s a professional and takes safety in the kitchen Very Seriously.

“If you damage any of my equipment with your clumsy fingers, I will grate so much parmesan down your throat that you die of cheese asphyxiation.”

“Sounds kinky,” Hoseok laughs, but then he jumps behind you when Jin brandishes a decorative pineapple at him as if he’s about to brain the other man.

“Babe, I’m not about to explain to your family that your final words were, and I quote, ‘sounds kinky’, especially if it was before Jin offed you via fermented dairy products,” you say, although you still shield Hoseok with your body- as if there was any chance you’d be able to stop Jin if he was on the warpath. His shoulders are so broad. Still, you’d fight him for Hoseok if you had to.

“My family love you, I think they’d be okay with it,” Hoseok says from behind you. Jin makes a weird expression with his face before he sets the pineapple back down onto the table next to the rest of your equipment, raising his eyebrows at something; before you can ask what’s up, you’re distracted by the sensation of Hoseok’s hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “It’s okay, Jin, Y/n and I cook together all the time. We won’t mess up.”

“Hobi’s really good at cooking,” you pipe up, and Hoseok affectionately nuzzles at the crown of your head. You cook dinner together at least once a week, trying to use different recipes each time- cooking is a great hobby because you get food at the end of it, and cooking with Hoseok is especially great because you get an excuse to break out the candles and fancy tablecloth your mother had gifted you, even if your food is something simple.

(You never thought you’d learn multiple ways to fold a napkin, but Hoseok is always so excited whenever he sees you start to crimp them into shape, so you like to mix things up for him.)

Jin’s face shifts back into that look that you’re starting to think looks like he’s eaten something that he’s not sure if he likes or not- a little disbelieving, perplexed, resigned. You never get a chance to ask why, though: Jin claps his hands and tells you to put on your aprons so you can start filming, and you eagerly pull it over your head before helping Hoseok tie his behind his back. (Jin makes the face again, but you’re too busy tying a cute bow to notice.)

Jin seems genuinely impressed when it turns out that the two of you have been telling the truth. Of course, the Tasty team member is directing you and giving instructions so it’s not as difficult as it might be otherwise, but he ends up surprisingly uninvolved with the physical part of the process; you and Hoseok hand jobs off to each other and work in tandem to prepare the dough and filling, and once the pie is in the oven you even begin to clean everything up unprompted, moving around each other with an unconscious level of ease.

Jin just ends up sitting on a stool and watching you do his ‘minion work’ although you think he just doesn’t want to get in the way. Hoseok hipchecks you gently and then giggles when you pretend to be pushed back by the strength of the motion and flop dramatically over the sink.

“How often do you two cook together?” Although the question is technically directed at the both of you, for some reason you get the feeling that Jin is aiming this more towards Hoseok, who answers him.

“Usually two or three times a week,” Hoseok says.

“Hmm. I see.” Jin looks thoughtful, and you can’t help but feel like there’s something you’re missing in this simple question and answer exchange. Hoseok has an expression on his face that you’ve never seen before- which you’d thought was impossible, because you know Hoseok inside and out, and it’s confusing. You feel surprisingly unsettled by it.

Your best friend seems like he’s trying to cut whatever tension’s in the air by turning his attention back to tidying up, but he fumbles when he goes to shut a drawer and catches his fingers. He’s barely had time to make a small ow noise before you’re there, lifting his hand and inspecting it carefully. “Stop distracting my boy, Jin, let him focus on cleaning up your messy ass kitchen,” you say.

“Excuse you, my kitchen is a temple, it’s only a mess because you’ve been in here,” Jin says primly.

“Sounds like something a messy person would say.” You would roll your eyes but they’re focused on the reddened skin of Hoseok’s fingers. They just look slightly pinched, nothing major, but still. You’re careful when you touch him. You don’t want him to hurt any further. “Are you okay, baby?”

“No.” He sniffles and his lip wobbles dramatically and you laugh. You do what you always do when Hoseok hurts himself in some small, superficial way- you lift his hand to your lips and gently kiss the fingers he’d gotten caught, inflamed skin already fading back to its usual colour, pain clearly already gone.

“There,” you declare. “All better.”

Hoseok’s expression is warm and tender as he looks at you, his fingers still cradled in yours as you look up from your touching hands, and your gazes lock. There’s a brief moment of stillness, a second that starts to crystallise into something more, and you’d swear his face had just started inching forwards when there’s suddenly an almighty clattering noise from behind you and you both jump, the moment broken.

“Oops,” Jin says blithely. You turn around to discover that all the pineapple related knick-knacks and decor on the table are now scattered on the floor around him, a tangle of paper decorations and plastic fruit that’s rolling across the room. “I seem to have slipped.”

“Weren’t you just going on about how messy we were?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but you’ve already turned away from Hoseok to squat down and help Jin tidy up, chasing down an errant pineapple. You don’t see the pointed look that Jin gives Hoseok behind your back, and when you turn around with the over-large pineapple clutched in your arms, both men seem to be acting like normal. “I’m going to pay Namjoon to keep that in the final cut so everyone can see how chaotic you are in the kitchen.”

“Joonie would never betray me like that,” Jin says with completely unearned confidence, just like he does with most things- but the sad thing is, he’s right. Namjoon is too much of a professional to keep unnecessary shots in the video, and besides, Jin seems able to get away with being outrageously chaotic because he’s so charming and pulls it off so well. If the footage of him somehow sending everything to the floor was kept in the video, people would probably love it.

Once the pie is done cooking and has finally cooled enough for Jin to cut it into triangular shapes, you’re so excited to eat it that you’re bouncing up and down on the spot a little. Hoseok is too. Jin humours your excitement with understanding- he loves to eat too- although he raises his eyebrows at the way you and Hoseok lock your arms together before you lean forward to take a bite of the pineapple pie. You let out a muffled little groan into the pastry once it finally touches your tongue, sweet tartness of the pineapple exploding across your tastebuds, pastry buttery and flakey as it melts in your mouth.

“Jin, this is so good,” you say, and Hoseok hums around a mouthful of fruit filling in agreement.

“I think your ghost was onto something,” Jin says. He’s already polished off his slice, while you and Hoseok are barely halfway through your own, disentangling your arms so you can focus on eating properly. Sometimes you wonder if Jin just unhinges his jaw and swallows things whole because you’ve never seen someone who can eat as quickly as he can. “They could see you pining.”

Your face twists in confusion. “What?”

“You know… pining… like a pineapple,” Jin says, before giggling to himself like he’s just told the world’s funniest joke. You raise your eyebrows at Hoseok, but then you take another bite of the pie and immediately forget about Jin’s cryptic nonsense.

“This is so good, isn’t it, Hobi?” You ask.

“It’s so sweet and light and delicious,” Hoseok says. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I thought we were talking about the pie, not me, Hoseok,” Jin says, and then lets out peals of squeaky laughter when you roll your eyes.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I think you can get a cream for that,” Jin continues to laugh, before you throw a paper pineapple at him.

There’s still pie left over the next day. Of course, you’ve saved slices for the rest of your crew. Jimin and Taehyung are snacking on slices of pie as they help each other set up the cameras and mics in the studio, making sure the lighting hits you and Hoseok so that you stand out against the room behind you. Today’s the day you’ve set aside to film the 70th episode, and you’re excited for the chance to do an official retrospective of the show so that you can look back at all the places you’ve been to and the things you’ve discussed, as well as plans for the future.

“Did the two of you coordinate your outfits for the video?” Tae says curiously, and you glance down at your clothes. It’s only then you realise that- although your outfit is darker than his- there are flowers on Hoseok’s bomber jacket and your dress is covered in a floral pattern.

“Huh, I didn’t even notice,” you mutter as you pluck at your dress. “Guess we’re just telepathic.”

Hoseok stays silent, strangely enough, but when you hold your hand up for a high five he responds enthusiastically and continues to grip your hand afterwards, which makes you laugh. “That’s friendship,” he says, and you laugh again, squeezing his hand.

The two of you keep laughing as the cameras start to roll, watching the clips from your most popular episodes so far, between answering commonly asked questions from fans- one of the more frequently asked being ‘why did Hoseok agree to be a co-host when he always seems scared during filming and screams all the time?’

You read this question off your list and Hoseok’s answer is immediate. “Y/n is one of the hardest workers I know,” he says. “So I was excited to be invited on board for a show that she had created. And I wouldn’t say that I’m always screaming-”

“Yeah, when you have to pause to breathe,” you interject, and he laughs.

“Sure,” he says indulgently. “But, honestly, when Y/n is there it’s easy to forget that we’re standing in some terrifying old building or haunted tomb or whatever.” You rest your chin on your hand as you watch him continue to speak. “I would honestly be a lot more scared if she wasn’t there. She’s very good at distracting me if I’m getting too worried. She’s very comforting.”

“That’s a nice way of saying that I’m basically a defence mechanism for you.”

“Basically.” Hoseok grins at you so widely, teeth on show, gorgeous.

Now that he mentions it, it’s true that as your friendship has grown, his fear has ebbed; although he still screams as loudly as before, it happens less often, but because sudden noises and jump scares always startle him, it still happens a lot. If you don’t take the time to reflect it’s kind of easy to forget how your friendship has grown over time, which is why it’s another good reason to have this retrospective- for the sake of the series, sure, but your relationship with Hoseok has grown as the show has, too.

When you flip over the final page to read the final question, you’re surprised to see an extra one tacked onto the end- you’d been the one to select them, after all, and this one has been added after the fact, someone’s messy handwriting scratched across the paper. You don’t recognise the writing. Honestly it kind of looks like someone had written it with their non-dominant hand to avoid detection, almost like a child’s writing from a cartoon, all but missing the backward E’s- but the question is pretty innocuous, so you figure you may as well answer it. You can just ask Namjoon to cut the footage later if you don’t like it.

“Y/n: If Hoseok decided to quit being your co-host, who would you want to replace him?” You squint at the paper as you decipher the scrawl, not seeing how Jimin and Taehyung exchange a sly, down-low high five off camera. “Huh.”

“You started the series with Yoongi, right?” Hoseok pipes up. “Would you bring him back?”

You’d chosen Yoongi as your original co-host for Unsolved because you vibed well and had pretty similar opinions when it came to a lot of things, and you’d worked well together in the past, but the truth is that- “No, I wouldn’t,” you say immediately. Hoseok seems genuinely surprised. “Honestly, if you stopped co-hosting with me, that would be the end of Unsolved. Hoseok and I are a package deal at this point and I would never consider filming the show without him.”

Hoseok looks stunned, but you keep going. “The show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Yoongi was great for the videos he was in, but- even if he didn’t have other commitments, he couldn’t take over from Hobi. Unsolved isn’t just a show about the supernatural, or crimes, it’s about us dealing with the supernatural or true crimes,” you continue, and then your nose wrinkles as you realise what you’ve said. “Well, we don’t directly deal with true crimes, fortunately. I’d make a terrible detective. My hand isn’t steady enough to draw one of those chalk outlines, y’know? I’d probably just end up drawing someone who looked suspiciously like Kirby. Anyway, Hoseok is my best friend as well as my co-host; if you get one of us, you get both of us, and if you don’t get both of us, you get neither of us.”

“I love you, Y/n,” Hoseok says. It’s not the first time he’s said this to you, but you think it’s the first time he’s ever said it on camera, and his tone is strangely earnest. He must be getting really nostalgic about the start of the show if it’s making him sound like that.

“Love you too, Hobi.” You beam at him. “I’m really glad we became friends.”

Behind the cameras, Taehyung makes a weird croaking sound and Jimin hits him hard on the arm.

“Uh, normally when someone's choking you hit them on the back, Minnie,” you say.

“I’m not choking, I’m fine,” Taehyung wheezes. Jimin punches him again.

“Uh-huh.” You raise an eyebrow. “Anyway. What was I saying. Oh! Yeah, referring back to the question- while I would never stop him if he thought it was the right thing to do, I certainly hope that Hobi doesn’t want to quit being a co-host.”

“I would never.” Hoseok’s expression is weirdly intense as he says this and you can’t help but laugh.

“Good! I’m glad we’re both in it for the long haul.”

Taehyung still looks kind of constipated once filming is over, but before you can ask him what’s up, Jimin pulls him to the corner of the room and the two men exchange some quiet words. They seem oddly serious and you purse your lips as you try to work out what’s going on, but then Hoseok’s hand slips into yours and your attention is drawn away from them.

“Celebratory 70th episode filming dinner?”

“I thought we were going to have a celebratory dinner with our minions when the episode actually aired,” you say, tilting your head at Taehyung and Jimin. “Didn’t you put it in the GCal?”

“I meant just you and me,” Hoseok says, squeezing your hand gently. “A co-host only dinner.”

“Ooh, we’re in an exclusive club, are we?” You giggle and squeeze his hand back. “Sure, why not. Can we have pizza? I’m feeling like pizza.”

“You can have anything you want, baby,” Hoseok answers, affection written across all his features. You go all wobbly inside, your insides melting into a puddle of goo at how warm and tender he is. You love your best friend so much. “Let’s leave those two to it, it seems like they’re busy.”

You look back over at your cameramen. Jimin has his cheeks puffed out and Taehyung looks chagrined. You purse your lips again, a little unsure if you should leave them if they’re having some sort of disagreement, but then Hoseok slips his hand out of yours and crouches down in a way that you recognise instantly. You make a noise of happiness and leap up, letting him lift you into a piggyback; you lock your arms around his neck and start to giggle as he bounces you a little, getting his hands comfortable under your calves.

“We’re off!” Hoseok announces. Jimin and Taehyung look away from their discussion to the two of you, their expressions both mirrors of each other as their eyebrows rise in unison when they spot how Hoseok is carrying you. “We’ll leave you to tidy the studio.”

“Enjoy the rest of the pie!” You wiggle your fingers at them in a little wave before squealing when Hoseok hitches you up his back again without warning, tightening your grip on him. “Pizza time, Hobi, let’s go.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows in a way that makes you laugh before you bury your head in his hair, stifling your giggles against his scalp. He smells so nice and soft and lovely, familiar, like home.

“Wow, they’re unbelievable,” Jimin whispers behind you, though you don’t hear him, more focused on not bumping your head in the doorway as Hoseok walks you both out of the studio.

You end up going to your favourite pizzeria, sitting at your usual booth in the corner. You’ve been here so many times with Hoseok that you don’t need to look at the menu and just order your usual half-and-half, feeding each other slices of garlic bread and struggling with the gooey, molten cheese that seems to stretch endlessly from your slices of pizza. You feel warm and comfortable, your feet brushing under the small table whenever you shift your legs, laughing each time Hoseok traps your foot under his before letting you go.

“I can’t believe we’ve done 70 episodes,” you say, leaning back against the smooth leather of the booth seat after you’ve stolen a sip of Hoseok’s Sprite. “I never thought we’d get this far. I honestly thought you’d have died of fright by now,” you tease, swinging your leg gently against his.

“If I die, I’ll haunt you from beyond the grave,” Hoseok says, pulling a face at you that’s clearly meant to be ghoulish, and you laugh.

“I’ll take the spirit box home from work so you can talk to me.” You lean your elbow on the table and rest your chin on your palm, still smiling. “Obviously you’d do the same for me, right?”

“As long as you kept other ghosts away from it,” Hoseok says, shivering. “I don’t want to have to talk to them too.”

“I promise. I’ll be the only thing haunting you, don’t worry.”

Hoseok smiles at you, eyes warm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

You share a banana split for dessert. You’re pretty full so Hoseok eats the majority of it, which gives you the opportunity to watch him, the way his dimples appear when he chews; you must have watched him eat a thousand times but you’re never any less endeared by the sight.

“I meant what I said, you know,” you say suddenly, and Hoseok looks up, cheeks bulging with ice cream and banana.

“Hmrh?” He makes a noise of questioning around his mouthful of food, and you laugh when you spot a smear of chocolate sauce on his chin. You swipe it away with your thumb before mindlessly sucking it off, too distracted by the sweetness bursting across your tongue to notice how Hoseok stares at the motion with wide eyes. He swallows. “What?”

“When I said that I was glad that we became friends,” you say. “When I first asked you to star in an episode I never thought we’d end up here, you know? But… I’m really happy. And I really do love you a lot, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiles all the time. In fact, you’d say he spends more time smiling than he doesn’t, happiness always radiating from his face like sunlight shining down from the sky, golden and bright- but the smile he gives you right now is softer than that. It’s more like the softness of the sunrise, spilling over you through just-opened curtains, warm and gentle and comforting.

“I love you too, Y/n,” he says. “More than anything.”

You put a hand over your face as you giggle bashfully at the earnest look on his face. “Stop,” you whine. “You’re so cheesy, oh my God.”

“You said it first,” Hoseok points out, but he starts to laugh along with you, before the server comes over to give you your bill and you end up fighting over who pays- Hoseok wins, much to your disappointment, but lets you front the tip as a compromise.

As always he catches the subway with you and holds your hand all the way home, only letting go when you get to the door of your apartment building. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he says, and you glance up from where you’ve been rummaging in your bag for your keys.

“Bright and early as always,” you reply, smiling. “I’ll make sure to bring your casserole dish back tomorrow, it’s still on my counter. I’ll make you some lunch to make up for how long I’ve kept it.”

“Okay.” Hoseok watches as you finally unearth your keys, jingling them triumphantly as you do. “Baby?”

“Hm?” You look up from where you’ve been fitting the keys into the lock. “Yes?”

“I meant it when I said it, too.” He looks oddly sombre, none of the usual levity on his face. “I love you more than anything, Y/n.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, stuttering a little at his tone and his expression. He’s told you that he loves you, sure, and you always say it back, but Hoseok’s never said it like this: like there’s more meaning behind his words than normal. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, frozen in place, key still pressed into the lock- but before you can gather your thoughts Hoseok’s face is morphing into his usual smile before he dips forwards and kisses you on the forehead.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow! Don’t forget the casserole dish!”

And then he’s bouncing down the steps just like he always does, turning momentarily to give you a jaunty wave before walking briskly back in the direction of the subway.

“See you tomorrow,” you echo faintly, feeling off kilter and off balance as you watch him disappear into the distance.

Okay. So. You’ve told yourself on multiple occasions that, nowadays, what you feel for Hoseok is entirely platonic. He’s your best friend, and you love him, and it’s very easy to feel romantically inclined towards your friends sometimes because friendship involves love, and you should be friends with your romantic partners anyway, so there’s a lot of overlap. You may have lingering memories of your crush, yes, but you’re over it.

At least, you could have sworn you were. So why are you projecting onto Hoseok again all of a sudden? When he said he loved you, it wasn’t a romantic confession, despite what your instincts might be telling you. Your brain is screaming at you to look at it logically, and you’re trying your best to tell yourself that, that it Wasn’t Romantic and it was Just Hoseok Being Hoseok, the man who tells all his friends that he loves them on a regular basis, it wasn’t romantic.

“Morning, baby,” Hoseok says, smiling at you, before noticing both the coffees you’re holding. “Ooh, is one of those for me?”

“Hi.” Your voice is weirdly breathless. “Yeah, I got your favourite.”

Hoseok lights up and makes grabby hands at you, and you feel utterly helpless as you hand it over. You feel like Past-Y/n, a previous version of yourself, the one that was still new to BigHit and used to get all in a muddle when Hoseok so much as looked at you. You feel like you’re rediscovering your crush all over again, like some sort of giddy schoolgirl, and you kind of want to slap yourself- but then Hoseok takes a sip of his coffee and makes a little noise of pleasure and all that self-hatred turns to static, replaced with nothing but affection for the man holding the door open for you.

You manage to keep it together pretty well, for the most part, you think. It’s not until you leave your computer to speak to Hoseok about something that you nearly lose it. He sees you coming and smiles widely, instinctively wheeling away his desk and patting his lap in invitation. Your brain goes blank as you panic and you abruptly swerve and act like you were walking over to Jungkook the whole time, missing the way Hoseok’s face drops with disappointment.

You’ve been lurking to one side of Jungkook’s desk for a few minutes before the man acknowledges you, looking away from the video he’s apparently editing to raise an eyebrow at you.

“Are you lost? Hobi-hyung is over there.” Jungkook starts to point but then you grab his hand before anyone notices, pushing it back down against his desk.

“I know where Hobi is,” you say through gritted teeth. Jungkook blinks at you as you continue to trap his hand against his desk, tightening your grip when his fingers twitch. “I am having a small crisis and I would appreciate it if you let me pretend to have a conversation with you about work.”

Jungkook looks baffled but doesn’t argue, clearly a little scared of how tightly you’re grasping his fingers. “Um, okay,” he says, slowly. “Do you need to hold my hand at the same time?”

You look down at where your hands are still connected before you release him. He flexes his fingers with a wince. “Wow, you’re a lot stronger than you look.” He sounds impressed. “Have you been working out?”

“I bench press the weight of my stupidity daily,” you sigh. Jungkook lets your words pass without comment, putting his free hand back onto his mouse and resuming his work. You squint at his screen, intrigued. “What are you working on?”

You end up perching on Jungkook’s desk as he talks you through his most recent project, and how he and Tae have almost finished putting together the cat shelter video- you coo at all the footage of the different cats, small kittens to mangy strays, scruffy and cute. You’re too busy laughing at the unflattering shots they have of Yoongi while he’d been sleeping before they’d written across his face and you don’t notice how Hoseok keeps looking over with a mix of confusion and almost hurt flashing across his features.

He doesn't show any of this when you meet him later, though. You’ve recomposed yourself by the time lunch rolls around and you manage to return Hoseok’s casserole dish without fumbling. Despite your inner turmoil last night you’d still made time to pack lunch for the two of you, using the cute lunchboxes that Hoseok’s family had given you last Christmas- he lights up when he sees the dosirak you’ve packed, fluffy rice and other side dishes, all of his favourites.

“You are a blessing,” he says, and you smile as he eagerly dives in. You tackle your own food more slowly, having to approach the kimbap carefully because of how you’d been overzealous with the filling. “Ooh, can I have some of that?”

“Sure,” you say, gesturing at the bite sized slices in the tub in front of you. Instead of taking one of those, however, Hoseok leans forward for the piece of kimbap you’ve already grabbed. You’re frozen in place as you feel his lips around your fingers, teeth lightly grazing your skin as you instinctively surrender the food to his mouth, a light swipe of his tongue over your fingertips to catch the light sheen of sesame oil there, soft and wet against your touch.

Hoseok leans back and chews like nothing is out of the ordinary- and to be fair, you’ve fed finger foods to him before, it’s not out of the ordinary, but right now you feel like you’re on the verge of a meltdown. Your brain keeps replaying the past few seconds, the softness of his lips around your fingers, the wet of his tongue against them, the way his eyelashes had fanned out against his cheek as he’d glanced down at the food in your hand. You are Very Much Not Okay.

Hoseok is still happily chewing his kimbap, swallowing it down and taking a sip of water before he seems to notice that you’ve gone eerily silent. “Y/n?” He blinks at you. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say. “Um. I just remembered that I. Have a thing? I have to? Go do? You can eat the rest, seeyoulaterBYE.”

You can’t let this crush rear its head like this again and make your friendship awkward. The two of you have shared the same bed more times than you can count, for God’s sake, and you’ve even discussed rooming together- the rent in LA isn’t exactly cheap, and if you pooled your resources you could get a pretty nice place- and that had all been okay! That hadn’t made you feel strange at all! But Hoseok eats food from your hand like he has a thousand times and you’re spiralling out of control like this? Why is this happening now?

Ugh. Ughughughugh. Stupid.

Namjoon finds you hidden away in the Unsolved studio later, where you’ve absconded with your tablet to try your best to get some work done with your limited resources, hidden away from everyone; it’s weird being in here when you’re not filming, without Hoseok in the seat next to you, so you’re not really doing a great job. (You’ve spent more time blankly watching Queer Eye on Netflix than you have being productive.)

“Hey, Y/n.” Namjoon’s gentle voice is like a balm to your soul. Hoseok might be your best friend now, but Namjoon was your friend first and the two of you are still close, both in and out of work. He’d made you feel comfortable and welcome when you’d first joined the team and continues to support all your projects. He’s a really great friend and colleague and an even better person.

You smile at him as he shuts the door. You can tell he’s trying to do it quietly but ends up accidentally slamming it loudly, and you stifle a laugh as you notice the guilt that appears on his face.

“Joonie! Come on in.” You beckon at the seat next to you, scooting away a little so he plenty of room to sit. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just wanted to talk to you about some editing stuff but Hobi said you’d disappeared somewhere for a, um, ‘thing’.” Namjoon doesn’t comment on the fact that you still clearly have Queer Eye open on your tablet, Jonathan’s face a blur on the screen from where you’ve paused it during a transitional shot. Instead he sits carefully down next to you and leans back in the chair, adjusting his glasses; he looks particularly cozy today, with his glasses and jumper and cardigan. He pulls off the Hot Academic look really well. “Any particular reason why you’ve squirreled yourself away here?”

You muffle a sigh, looking down at the notebook you have next to your tablet; what little handwriting is on the page is especially messy and disjointed, reflecting your distracted mind. Namjoon has a naturally reassuring presence anyway but his outfit today seems to accentuate that even further, like you could bury your head into the fuzziness of his jumper and find inner peace.

“Oh, okay, I suppose this is happening,” he says.

Yep, the jumper is just as soft as you’d thought, and it smells nice and soft too. Namjoon doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve smooshed your face into his shoulder and instead he angles himself so you’re both more comfortable, and he starts to pat your back soothingly. It’s nice, of course, but you can’t help but compare his touch to Hoseok’s- Namjoon is more methodical and measured, like he’s thinking about each motion, while Hoseok just seems smoother and more natural because he’s always touching you, second nature by now.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ughughughughguhguh,” you say articulately into the weave of Namjoon’s clothing. He chuckles warmly.

“Long day?”

Good old Namjoon. A gentle question, open ended, offering you the opportunity to deflect, or tell him the truth. You turn your head to avoid getting jumper lint in your mouth, but stay leaned against him.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s just…” You struggle to put it into words, but Namjoon just waits patiently while he continues to pat your back. “It’s Hobi?”

Namjoon’s hand goes still, though you’re not sure if it’s because of your words themselves or the tone of them, the way you pitched it up at the end like a question, like you weren’t too sure yourself. “Did he do something?”

“No! No. Yes? No,” you settle on. “No, no he didn’t. It’s not him, it’s me,” you say. “Ugh.”

You end up pulling away from Namjoon to scrub tiredly at your face, not noticing his expression, which he quickly reschools when you look back at him. “We were just doing our usual thing, you know,” you say, and Namjoon nods as he listens, even though your description is incredibly vague and could mean any number of things. “But then he said he loved me and like- we’re best friends, we say we love each other a lot, it’s not unusual or anything, but… I guess it got to me this time? Like it felt like something more than just friendship? He didn’t mean it like that, of course, but I guess it’s hard to, uh, shake that feeling now that it’s gotten into my head.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Although Namjoon seems a little perplexed he’s still clearly concerned, and your eyes widen.

“What? No, no, it’s fine! I don’t mind it. It’s more that-” You pause. You’ve never actually voiced your less-than-platonic feelings for Hoseok out loud, though you’re certain it must have been obvious to start with- even though no one had ever mentioned it or teased you about it, so maybe they hadn't noticed.

Either way, it sort of feels like once you put the words out into the world then the truth will linger and be unavoidable in a way that you’ve been desperately avoiding so far. But it’s just you, and Namjoon, and you would trust Namjoon with your life, even if you wouldn’t trust him to hold anything fragile or delicate. “It’s not the idea of Hoseok loving me like that that makes me uncomfortable. I just don’t want things to be weird?” Namjoon continues to look levelly at you, waiting patiently for you to get to the point, and you take in a deep breath. “IhaveacrushonHobi,” you rush out. “And I don’t want to ruin the friendship by reading into things too much because I’m being overly hopeful or something.”

Namjoon pauses. He looks thoughtful as he fixes his gaze on you through his glasses. “Y/n.” He sounds solemn, like he’s discussing something of deep importance, like your tiny breakdown over your best friend requires the same level of gravity as the rapid disappearance of bees, or climate change- like it’s something world changing and heavy and important. He’s not doing what you’ve done over the years, as in, desperately tried to minimise your feelings just so you can stay sane. “You sound unhappy about it.”

“I am unhappy about it,” you say, unhappy. “Hobi is my best friend and I do love him a lot, and I’m happy being friends, and I reallyreallyreally don’t want to make things weird. I should be used to this by now, it’s not like what he and I do is anything I’m not used to.”

“Things change when romantic feelings develop,” Namjoon says, ever patient, and you let out a pained little groan.

“It’s not- these feelings aren’t new, Namjoon.” You sigh, and for the first time since you started this conversation, Namjoon looks surprised. Guess your crush on Hoseok hadn’t been obvious in the beginning, then. “I don’t know if I ever told you that I met Hoseok before I even got a job here, technically?”

You’d come out of your BigHit interview feeling unsure. Off balance. You hadn’t known if you’d come across as desperate and too eager to please, rather than a go-getter team player, but all you’d been able to think about was how getting a job at BigHit would mean that you could finally save up enough to move out of the awful shared room you were in with the mould in the corner that kept coming back no matter how many times you cleaned it. The interview had gone on longer than you thought and you barely had time to get to Starbucks before your shift started- if you got a job at BigHit you could finally quit that place- and you’d hurried to leave the building only to discover that it was raining.

“Oh,” you’d said.

You’d stood in the reception area, staring out of the glass windows at the torrential downpour outside; it had been sunny earlier that day, no indication that the heavens were going to open, and you hadn’t brought a coat or umbrella with you. Your one nice interview outfit was going to get drenched, and it was going to stay wet in your locker at Starbucks while you were working, and basically the entire month had been just terrible and after a potentially wasted interview you just kind of wanted to cry.

Before the tears could start to pool in your eyes, however, Hoseok had appeared. Not that you’d known him or his name at the time, of course, but he’d swept into the building like some burst of sunlight that had cut through the clouds despite the rain, shaking an umbrella off before laughing at Yoongi’s disgruntled face at the scattering water. You’d been stunned by the sudden flare of energy in the room and were still standing there when Hoseok’s eyes fell on you, on your stance, the way you were staring at the grey skies outside and the obvious lack of an umbrella in your hands.

And he’d just- he’d just walked up to you like you were friends, like he knew you, and he’d proffered the still damp umbrella, like it was nothing.

“It’s raining pretty heavily out there,” he’d said, and he’d been smiling, and you’d looked at him in shock, and he’d laughed. “You’ll need this.”

“I- what?”

“You clearly need this more than me,” Hoseok had said, bright smile fading into something a little more gentle, and you’d accepted the umbrella with unsteady hands, unable to say no to this sunshine of a man. “Feel free to give it back whenever.”

“I- I don’t work here,” you’d admitted, shamefaced. “I’m just here for an interview.”

“So you can give it back to me once you get the job.” Hoseok had said it like it was a done deal, like there weren’t other people vying for the position you’d applied for, people who were probably infinitely more qualified and better in interviews. “Okay?”

For the first time that month, you’d felt like someone believed in you- because you certainly didn’t believe in yourself. But Hoseok had been smiling at you, with his heart shaped mouth and his bright eyes, and you’d felt like a flower basking in his rays, turning towards him as your petals unfurled in his light, and you’d said- “Sure. Yes. I will.”

Here, now, in the present, you look down at your hands as you finish telling this story. “I just put the umbrella on his desk when he wasn’t around, after I got the job,” you tell Namjoon. “I didn’t talk to Hobi for ages because I didn’t- I didn’t have the strength to look him in the face without, you know. Without making it obvious that I had a raging schoolgirl crush on him. And he never said anything about it- I don't think he even remembered me at all, he'd just given some person his umbrella because they needed it, you know? And then we became friends and my crush died down and everything was okay, but- I guess the crush never really went away after all. Ugh,” you say. “This sucks, Joon. It sucks.”

The way Namjoon looks at you is compassionate and soft. “I know,” he says. “It’s understandable that you’re worried about this, because your friendship with Hoseok is important to you. But I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about, really.”

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble, and Namjoon chuckles.

“No, I’m not,” he says, gently. “I think you need to be more confident in what you and Hoseok have. Even if you admitted your feelings and he didn’t feel the same, you know he loves you too much to throw your friendship away, and it’s strong enough that it can survive whatever’s thrown at it. But, if you’ll forgive me for speaking out of turn, I would wager you’re not the only one with romantic feelings, Y/n.”

“You’re very sweet, Joonie, but I really don’t think that’s the case.” You let out a little self-pitying sigh. “Hobi’s just so lovely to everyone, it probably seems like that because we’re best friends.”

One of Namjoon’s eyebrows rises. “Is that what you really think?”

“Yes,” you say, a little miserable, looking down as you pick at a loose thread in one of your sleeves. “People mistake us as a couple a lot because we’re so close, you know? But Hoseok doesn’t see me like that.”

“Mm.” Namjoon makes a little noise of understanding, giving you a considering look as you continue to unravel your sleeve. “I see.”

He eventually coaxes you out of the studio, and when he discovers that you never finished your lunch he brings you to the café around the corner that all the BigHit employees love; you pick up an iced coffee for Hoseok, just the way he likes it. You feel better after talking to Namjoon and by the time you leave the café you feel pretty much back to normal. Mostly relaxed. You don’t feel weird when Hoseok lights up when he sees you, because he always does, because you’re his best friend, and this is normal. You can be normal.

“Again? It was my turn to get you coffee,” Hoseok says with a pout and you laugh.

“Don’t worry about it.” When you hand Hoseok his drink and your fingers brush, it’s okay. It’s okay. Your friendship with Hoseok is more important than your other feelings for him, and you’ll just focus on that. You’re not sure that’s what Namjoon was trying to communicate to you, with all his listening and gentle words, but you can bottle up these emotions and keep them on lockdown until the weird feeling passes. It’ll work. You’ll be fine.

A few hours later, you realise that you’re not fine.

“Joonie!” You pounce on Namjoon when you find him alone in the break room, filling a glass at the tap. He jumps and sends water sloshing over his hands when he drops his cup, though it fortunately doesn’t break when it clatters into the sink. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“I’m not going to point out that you snuck up on me from behind without making any noise, but, that’s okay,” Namjoon says, ever tolerant. He very carefully puts the glass upright in the middle of the sink before he turns around. “What’s up?”

“I, um, am maybe panicking a little bit,” you admit in a hushed voice, even though there’s no one else in the tiny kitchen with you. “So you know Unsolved has a bigger budget now that we’re more popular? And I’ve been pushing for us to go abroad somewhere on said bigger budget? And they said we could schedule some episodes for Britain because basically every other building in Britain is haunted?”

“Yes, I am aware,” Namjoon says. “I did help you to draft the emails that you sent management.”

“You did, and I’m still eternally grateful,” you say, truthfully. “But I’ve been so caught up in the 70th episode retrospective and my much more recent, uh, Hoseok related stuff, that I totally forgot how soon it was coming up and we fly to London next week?”

Namjoon blinks at you. “You have plenty of time to pack before next week, why are you panicking?”

You muffle a scream into your hands while Namjoon looks on with concern.

“It’s not packing I’m worried about, Joon,” you say once you’ve pulled your face out of your palms. “It’s just that when we’re abroad I’m not going to be able to get away from Hoseok and I’m worried that I’m going to erupt like a volcano and spew all my emotions over him and then I’m going to have to change my name and drop off the grid forever when he inevitably rejects me, and I was always terrible at camping. I could never get the fire to light.”

Namjoon, for all that his patience seems endless and eternal, gives you a look that borders on weary. Like he’s the father to a child who keeps eating glue even after being told that there’s no nutritional value in it and they should be using it for macaroni art anyway, and also why are they eating the glue when it’d make more sense to eat the pasta that’s right there, even if it’s uncooked?

“First of all, you can be off the grid and still have access to ways of heating that don’t require fire,” he says. “And second of all, why are you panicking so much about London?”

“Because Hobi always gets super clingy when we fly anywhere.” You shuffle from foot to foot, feeling awkward. “And that’s when we’re still in the US. I feel like if we’re in a different country it’ll be compounded? Even if I don’t say anything out loud, I feel like my feelings will be obvious just in the way I act?”

Namjoon pauses before he grips your shoulders. His palms feel so big and warm, a steadying presence. “Would that be so terrible? Think about it, Y/n. If that was the case, then it gives Hobi the opportunity to speak out if he notices. If your friendship is entirely platonic to him, then he won’t notice, right? You’ll be okay.”

You open your mouth to take in a breath and respond, but before you can say anything Seokjin comes sauntering into the cramped break area, entirely indifferent to the weird atmosphere he’s walked into. His eyebrows raise as he spots how you and Namjoon are standing. “Ooh, are we gossiping? Is there tea to be spilled? You both look very serious, let me in on it.”

“I was just asking Namjoon if there was any advice he could give me about travelling to Britain,” you lie.

“She didn’t realise that over there lemonade is like soda.” Namjoon lets his hands drop from your shoulders as he plays along with ruse, and your face twists up in confusion.

“It’s what?” You look at him for a second before realising that Jin is staring at you, and you pretend to laugh. “Ohh, yeah, haha! Yeah, that’s crazy, haha. Um, I should get back to my desk for my notebook, I should write this down before I forget,” you say, before scuttling out of the break room.

Once you’ve disappeared, Seokjin gives Namjoon a long look. “I can’t believe you haven’t broken yet,” he says. “I still personally think we should just lock them both in a room together until one of them confesses, but apparently that’s ‘inappropriate workplace behaviour’.” The air quotes he makes are exaggerated and theatrical, as if the entire thing is a farce.

“It is and I’m not going to take that statement back,” Namjoon responds. Seokjin rolls his eyes dramatically but Namjoon ignores him. “It’s better if they come around to it by themselves. I believe in them. Besides, weren’t you the one who intervened when it looked like Hoseok was going to kiss her? I had to edit that footage, I saw how you pushed all those decorations off the table.”

Jin raises his eyebrows. “Can you imagine the chaos if he’d done that without either of them confessing properly first? They’d both pretend like it never happened. I was doing them a favour.” He casts a sideways look at Namjoon, who nods in reluctant agreement. “You know the rest of the office has a pool on how soon one of those idiots actually confesses? Do you want in on it? If either one of us gets it, we can split it 50/50.”

“That’s also grossly inappropriate,” Namjoon says, before he pauses. “Hm. How much is in the pool?”

Turns out you didn’t need to worry so much.

“Oh my God, look at that!” Hoseok has his face pressed up against the glass of the pod, the London Eye giving you the opportunity to look down at the metropolis of the city sprawling out below you; Hoseok’s pointing at a weirdly shaped skyscraper, panels of glass refracting off alternate shades of blue. “That’s so cool!”

“I think it’s called The Gherkin,” you say and he makes a noise of delight. Beside you, Jimin and Taehyung take a selfie with the panorama of London behind them, and you smile.

It’s true that Hoseok has been clingier than usual. The thing is, though, you’ve been clingier too; you’ve had time between filming to do some sightseeing, and neither of you have been to London before, so everything is exciting and fun and new, and you’ve been holding onto each other throughout the journey, familiarity in an unfamiliar place. You’re too busy taking in the sights and travelling from place to place, you and Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung cramming close together each time you take the Tube somewhere, or asking people to take photos of you, and you’re having too much fun to worry about anything else.

You even get recognised a few times, which is exciting. You know Unsolved is popular but there’s something gratifying about people an ocean away knowing who you are and enjoying your work- you look on fondly as Hoseok makes your fans laugh, putting the nervous ones at ease, before shuffling together so they can take photos with you. It’s lovely, really, and you’re so glad that you and Hoseok get to experience this together. There’s no one else you’d rather be with.

You’d had a brief moment of panic after filming the first episode, Hoseok sliding into your bed as per usual, but you’d both been so tired and jetlagged that you’d basically fallen asleep the second he’d finished wrapping his arms around you, so it had been okay. You weren’t as jetlagged for the second episode, of course, but there was something soothing about having Hoseok curled around you as he slept; despite how your heart probably should have been racing, it had just gone quiet instead, slipping into a gentle beating rhythm as you’d drifted into sleep.

So on the whole it’s been all been going a lot better than you’d thought. It feels natural to let your head fall onto Hoseok’s shoulder as you both stare out of the train window, watching the fields and villages slip by as you race out of London to your final filming location, only a few days away from jetting home again.

“We should come back,” Hoseok says suddenly, his voice low enough that Jimin and Taehyung aren’t distracted from the card game they’re playing together across the aisle from you.

“For more episodes? We’ll probably have to wait till the next quarter so there’s money in the budget.” You turn away from the view outside to look up at him, chin resting on his shoulder. “We can start looking up other haunted locations when we get home, if you want.”

Hoseok smiles. “I meant we should come back just for a regular holiday,” he says. “So we don’t have to worry about rushing from place to place. I know you’re disappointed we didn’t have time to see the Royal Botanic Gardens. I know how much you love flowers.”

Oh. You keep looking up at Hoseok, the way you have such a perfect view of the round apples of his cheeks, the swoop of his nose, the sharp cut of his jaw- you think about walking hand in hand with him past bursting blooms, through delicate arching greenhouses, surrounded by colour and beauty, and you know you’d still think he was the most beautiful flower there.

“I’d like that,” you say quietly. You’re almost drowned out by how loudly Taehyung yells snap! and the subsequent groan Jimin lets out, but you know Hoseok hears you by the way his mouth lifts into a smile. “Is there anything you wanted to see next time?”

Hoseok shrugs, but only with one shoulder, doing a little jiggle with the one you’re not resting your chin on, which makes you smile. “Nothing specific,” he says. “I’m happy as long as I get to see it with you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he says this, words settling deep in your chest, and you turn your head so that your cheek is resting on his shoulder again, shirt soft against your skin. “Love you, Hobi.”

Hoseok doesn’t respond straight away, but then he turns his head and kisses the crown of your head lightly. “Love you too.”

You arrive in Colchester in the late afternoon, and you don’t film until tomorrow, so after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff at your apparently haunted bed and breakfast, you make the group decision to just chill out for the evening and grab a couple of drinks. There’s a pub near your B&B so you and the boys pile into it, claiming a table in the corner so that you’re not in the way of the regulars, although every so often one of you has to venture up to the bar to order your drinks, trying to follow whatever sort of queuing system seems to be going on. (After the lemonade thing you had actually ended up actually asking Namjoon about Britain and the etiquette over here, and he was very insistent on following queues.)

By the time it’s your turn to grab the drinks it seems like it’s starting to get busy, so it’s taking some time for the bartender to get to you, but that’s okay- you lean against the bar and scroll through your phone, taking the opportunity to double check your schedule for tomorrow, when you feel someone tap your arm and you glance up.

“Hi,” the man says. He’s been waiting nearby, lounging against the bar, similar to you. “Are you waiting for a drink? You can go first, if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, no!” You shake your head and laugh a little. “You were here before me, that’s okay.”

When he hears your accent his eyes light up. “Oh, are you a tourist? I thought I hadn’t seen you around, because I definitely would have remembered you. How long are you over here for?”

“Uh, just a couple of nights.” You smile at him. “I’m guessing you’re a local?”

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you. “I could show you around, if you’d like.”

You startle at the sudden sensation of hands sliding around your waist, but it only takes you a second to recognise the touch and you relax against Hoseok, your back pressed against his chest as you turn away from the man to glance up at your friend. “Hi, baby,” he says. “Did you make a friend?”

“We’ve only just started talking, actually,” you say, turning back to the guy you have yet to introduce yourself properly to. “Sorry, I never caught your name?”

“That’s okay. I think my friends are calling me,” he says, and he pushes himself off the bar before brushing himself down and then walking away, giving both of you a polite little nod as he passes.

“He never even ordered his drinks.” You blink with confusion and then shrug. “Oh well, means we’ll get ours sooner. You can go sit back down, Hobi, I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m already here, I may as well stay with you,” he says, tightening his grip around your waist, and you don’t argue. He keeps hold of you as you wait and then helps you carry your drinks to the table before he pulls you onto his lap, keeping you in place with one hand splayed over your stomach while he uses the other to lift his glass to his mouth.

“Fuck chairs, right?” Jimin says. Taehyung elbows him.

“Don’t be jealous because I have the best seat in the house,” you say, before sticking your tongue out at Jimin.

He gives you a mock affronted gasp and clutches his chest and you laugh before settling back against Hoseok, comfortable on your familiar perch atop his thighs. Hoseok might be the world’s biggest lightweight and easily gets tipsy over a single sip of alcohol- but despite this, his hold on you is firm and steady, even when he’s laughing over your shoulder, keeping you safe in his lap. He keeps stealing sips of your drink, dipping his head forwards to capture your straw whenever you’re not paying attention, but you don’t mind. What’s yours is Hoseok’s. (You’ve been taking sips of his beer, too, even if you make a face at the bitterness each time.)

By the time you shuffle back to your B&B, you’re all pleasantly drunk and keep giggling at each other about dumb and inconsequential things, although you’re careful to keep your voices down so that you don’t disturb anyone, trying to keep your footsteps light as you walk up the stairs. Jimin and Taehyung’s room is a little further up the corridor than yours and you clap your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter when you see Taehyung trying to open the wrong door before Jimin redirects him.

You might not be too much better, but at least you remember which room is yours- you unlock the door on your first try, although it’s a little hard to step inside with how Hoseok is wrapped around your back, trying to time his steps with yours but failing a little with how tipsy he is. You keep laughing whenever he moves his feet forwards at the wrong time, a messy tangle of limbs that keep bumping together as you kick your shoes off, and you end up collapsing onto one of the beds with Hoseok still clinging onto you. He tips over backwards while your back is still pressed to his chest and you let out a little squeal at the sudden falling sensation, but he cushions your fall without complaint and still doesn’t let go, even when you accidentally elbow him in the sternum.

“We should wash up and get in our pyjamas,” you say, but you’re already wriggling into a more comfortable position, turning over so you can look at his face instead of staring up at the ceiling. Hoseok’s head has sunken into one of the fluffy hotel-style pillows, his hair a messy halo around his head, face flushed red from the alcohol. You smile down at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “I don’t want to move right now.”

“You’re so drunk,” you giggle, but you rest your head on his chest and let your body relax, muscles unwinding as you let out a long, happy sigh. “We can move later, then.”

Even though you’d genuinely meant to get up and do your nightly ritual, you’re so comfortable snuggled with Hoseok in the soft bed that you drift off. For once, you fall asleep before him, eyes fluttering shut as your breaths deepen with sleep; Hoseok keeps stroking a hand down your back, brushing tenderly down the line of your spine with his long fingers in a way he’s done a thousand times. He’s still grateful for the opportunity every time, though- that he gets to see you like this, that he can touch you like this, that you’ve allowed him so deeply into your life and made a home in his, too.

“Goodnight, baby,” Hoseok says, voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. You’re so deeply asleep that you don’t stir, but he’s still careful and gentle when he touches his lips to your forehead with the lightest of pressures, tender. “Sleep well.”

When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a long time to come fully to your senses. You feel warm and heavy, surrounded by the smell of fresh sheets and Hoseok, and you don’t want to wake up just yet; you’re in that soft place between waking and sleeping, drifting in wakeful limbo as you slowly start to regain a sense of who you are and where you are.

Your brain flickers on, starting to pull itself together as the sensation of being a singular warm mass starts to dissolve, drawing up a mental map of how your body is slotted against Hoseok’s, where your limbs start and his end. That’s your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. That’s his arm around your shoulder, keeping you close even in your sleep. That’s your hand, resting on his hip, fingers hooked in his belt. Those are your legs, tangled around his, your toes pressed to his calf, and that’s-

Your eyes fly open. You’re still wearing your clothes from the night before, thicker denim of your jeans rather than the flimsy cotton of your pyjamas, but you know exactly what’s pressed against your hip bone. You’ve slept in the same bed with Hoseok enough times that this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve woken to his morning wood, but you’ve never been this tangled up before; you normally slide out of bed and pretend you haven’t noticed anything, and by the time Hoseok wakes up it’s normally gone, or he subtly shuffles off to the bathroom to deal with it, thinking that you’re none the wiser.

It’s natural, it’s normal, it’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, but right now all you can think of is the hand you have near his hip, how close it is to his arousal, how easy it would be to slip your hand past his belt and jeans and boxers to grasp that hard, heavy heat-

You stiffen. You would never, ever do that, not ever, never take advantage of Hoseok while he was sleeping, and you know it was just a flickering thought in your still sleepy brain, probably still a little drunk, too- but you feel sick. You can’t believe you would even hypothetically consider taking advantage of him like that. If you were more than friends, then, sure, you’d wake Hoseok up with a pleasuring touch- but you’re not. You’re not.

It takes a real feat of slow, drawn out acrobatics, but you manage to extricate yourself from Hoseok’s grasp without waking him. He only wakes up to the sound of the shower rumbling through the wall, blinking as he realises that his arms are empty, even though he should be used to this by now. By the time you walk out of the ensuite, towelling off your hair, Hoseok’s got a cup of tea waiting for you by the kettle, a few scattered milk droplets nearby from the tiny, complimentary pots.

“Morning, baby.” He’s still sleepy and there’s a crease on his cheek from where he’d turned his head into the pillow, hair ruffled, shirt wrinkled after a night of sleeping in it. “Tea?”

You feel a little better after your hot shower, scrubbing all the dirty thoughts off your skin, but when Hoseok looks so soft and homely like this it’s hard not to want to just eat him whole.

“Ooh, how British,” you say, trying to laugh- Hoseok still seems too heavy-eyed to notice how you’re a little bit off right now, thankfully. “Yes, please.”

Unfortunately, you can’t shake your lingering weirdness and feelings of guilt, and when Hoseok wakes fully, he notices. You’re not due to film at Colchester Castle until it’s night time, shooting the episode when it’s going to be dark, so you’ve organised a day trip to the town’s zoo- Colchester Zoo is huge, full of all sorts of animals and exhibits, and Hoseok’s been excited to visit it from the moment he found out about it.

You’d even looked up the map online so that you could plan out the optimum route and ensure you didn’t miss anything, the two of you crowding around your phone screen and pointing excitedly at the names of the different exhibits, ready and raring to go.

So Hoseok is understandably a little stunned when you apparently seem to want to drag your feet and stay with Jimin and Taehyung instead. Both the boys want to just wander around the zoo willy-nilly, separating off from you and taking it slow- but after a brief, silent discussion between the two of them, eyes flicking at each other and then back to you, they agree to come with you on your planned route.

You send up a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who’s listening. You can use the chaotic duo as cushioning and put them between you and Hoseok if you need to.

You know you’re not being especially subtle right now, but every time Hoseok moves closer to you all you can think about is how his choice of outfit today is fraying your already delicate nerves, the loose fabric of his fashionable sweatpants doing nothing to protect the outline of his dick from your wandering gaze. You don’t mean to look, but you can’t help it, even if you’re fairly certain that half the time it’s just a crease in the fabric from how he’s standing and not actually his dick, but-

“I thought it’d be harder than that,” Taehyung says. “It’s so much hairier than I thought it would be.”

You freeze, eyes shooting away from Hoseok’s crotch. Luckily no one seems to be paying you any attention and instead the boys are peering into the armadillo exhibit, watching as the animal snuffles around the ground.

“They don’t call it a large hairy armadillo for nothing,” Jimin giggles. “And it’s still a baby, the armour hasn’t grown in properly yet. It’ll look harder once it’s grown up a bit.”

All the tension rushes out of your body at once. Jesus Christ.

Hoseok notices you slumping a little, glancing up from the map when he hears the sigh of air escape your body. “Are you okay?” He seems concerned.

“Never better,” you lie unconvincingly, giving him a weak smile. “What’s next on the list?”

Hoseok seems concerned about you for the whole day, and even a little hurt when you keep slipping out of his grasp, but the truth is that you need to put some distance between the two of you right now, for the sake of your own heart and sanity. Being desperately head over heels for Hoseok is one thing and you’d just started becoming okay with that again, but this sudden wave of physical yearning (you’re too embarrassed to think of it as horniness) is out of the left field and it’s a lot harder to cover up. You hate seeing sadness on Hoseok’s face, and normally you’d be cooing over him and asking him to tell you what’s wrong- but you know what’s wrong. It’s you.

“Do you think something happened?” Taehyung whispers quietly to Jimin, the two of them watching as you act like you’ve been distracted by the Koi fish and walk away from Hoseok as he’s just about to reach for your hand.

“I think we’re reaching critical mass.” Jimin pretends to read from the zoo map. “We’ve nearly hit the nuclear reaction and one of them is finally going to blow. It might get messy.”

“I hope not,” Taehyung says, watching the way Hoseok stares at the back of your head as you peer into the tank of glittering fish. “I’ve never been good at cleaning up.”

It’s a little easier once the evening finally rolls around and Hoseok replaces those delicious sweatpants with marginally more professional jeans, as ripped as they are. It’s also easier to slip into the natural rhythm and rapport you have when you’re being filmed- it’s not that you’re ever any faker on camera, but it’s just an unthinking response to the sight of them, your body switching from Normal mode to Work mode. Taehyung readjusts the camera rig you have looped around your body while Jimin sorts out Hoseok, night vision lens pointed towards your faces, before letting you go.

“Ready?” You ask, glancing at your co-host. Hoseok seems less enthusiastic than usual, and you internally cringe, contrition shooting through you at how you’ve managed to dampen his mood because you’ve spent the whole day being distant.

“Ready,” Hoseok says, subdued. Your face crumples and you reach out for his hand, squeezing his fingers, trying to communicate a silent apology for something he isn’t even aware of.

“I won’t abandon you, okay?” You keep your fingers tangled with his as you speak and grip them hard. “There’s a lot of scary stuff in this castle and I promise I won’t leave your side.”

Hoseok pauses but then squeezes your hand back, and he seems to brighten, even though he’s still a little dimmed. “I know,” he says. “I know you won’t.”

Even though he says that, he spends less time clinging onto you than normal. It’s probably not noticeable to the average onlooker, and with how most of the footage is going to be cut later, you’re certain your audience won’t notice either- but while Hoseok still screams and jumps at things, he seems to separate from you as soon as the fear has passed. He doesn’t linger or keep hold of you, even when he seems visibly shaken, eyes wide as you ascend the stairs and hear what sounds like singing even though there’s no one else here- it’s probably just wind whistling through the ancient corridors and walls of the castle, but you know that Hoseok is terrified.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” You look over your shoulder and proffer your hand but Hoseok just shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” He’s clinging onto the banister, both hands white knuckled around the metal railing. “I’m fine.”

Even though you’ve been the one who’s been avoiding touching him all day, it hurts when he says that, as hypocritical as you know you’re being. You draw your hand back to your side and don’t offer again after that, although you still pat him soothingly when he instinctively grabs you later, jumping at a clattering noise in the distance. You’re not easily spooked, but Colchester Castle definitely has some weird vibes, so if you’re feeling like this, Hoseok must feel even more scared than normal.

At one point you walk through a spider web and flinch in surprise when you feel it on your face, jumping backwards and swiping at your face. Hoseok is immediately there, eyes wide as he stares at you, immediately protective despite his fear. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Uh, it was just a spider web,” you admit, chagrined. “I overreacted, sorry.”

Hoseok nods and immediately backs off, giving you room as he turns around. You can’t help the hurt that flashes across your face as soon as he looks away.

“Critical mass,” Jimin mutters to Taehyung, who nods sagely.

The worst and weirdest moment of the night actually happens once the episode is over. Hoseok is oddly quiet as you both get ready for bed, not talking to you through the open bathroom door as he meticulously massages cream into his face like he normally does- and once he flicks the light off, plunging the room into blue tinged darkness, you’re stunned as you watch his silhouette slide into his own bed instead of into yours.

He’s never slept in his own bed after a supernatural filming. Even after your first paranormal themed episode together, when you’d still been mostly strangers. He’d been bashful and hesitant despite how obviously scared he was, asking if he could sleep in your bed, and of course you’d said yes, wanting to do anything you could to soothe him and help him feel safe. So the fact he’s not sleeping in your bed now, it’s- it’s- it’s not right.

The only light in the room is from the tiny, faint red numbers of the digital clock, and you watch as time trickles slowly by- you stay awake for what feels like hours, laying on your side as you stare towards Hoseok’s bed. Your eyes adjust to the near darkness, room painted in low-contrast sfumato, and you can see how Hoseok is turned away from you; he’s unnaturally still and silent, and you know he hasn’t fallen asleep either, too scared and wound up to drift off.

Outside, a vehicle rumbles past, and you can see how Hoseok stiffens at the noise of the loose fan belt, a high squeal that’s admittedly startling after the silence of the night. The shine of the headlights through the drawn curtains is muted but still more than enough to throw the room into brief, sharp relief, the tension in Hoseok’s shoulders screaming out to you- you can’t stand it anymore and you slip out from under your blankets so that you can make your way across the dark room.

Hoseok turns when he hears you stumble over something on the floor- you think it’s a pair of socks- and makes a little noise of surprise when you throw back the corner of his duvet so you can slide in next to him.

“Y/n?” He sounds tired, but still fully awake- you were right, he’s been struggling to sleep.

“Hobi,” you say. “Why are you over here, all alone like this?”

You can barely make out the details of his features, as curved towards each other as you are; you can see the faint darkness where his hollows of his eyes are, his pretty mouth nothing more than an undefined line in the muted room.

“I- I didn’t want to disturb you.” His voice is a quiet, unhappy murmur, and you feel your heart break at the dejection in his tone.

“Oh, Hoseok.” You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs back and forth over his cheeks; you can feel the tension in his face, how he must be frowning. You might not be able to see everything all too well, but you’re more than familiar enough with Hoseok’s face to know where the furrow between his brows is, and press a little kiss to it. “My Hobi,” you say, and start to litter kisses over his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. “My baby. My darling.”

You keep touching your lips to his skin, wanting his unhappiness and fear to fade away, whispering pet names between each kiss. You tilt your lips against his chin, and Hoseok makes a little noise before his hands come up to grasp your wrists, pulling them away from where they’re still cupping his jaw. You go still, eyes widening, even if he can’t see it. “Hoseok?”

“Did I- did I do something wrong?” He sounds unsure. “You were avoiding me all day- I thought you didn’t want- I thought you wanted me to leave you alone,” he says, and you can hear guilt in his voice. “I thought I’d scared you off somehow.”

You make a little, unhappy noise. “No, baby, no,” you say. You shake your head, faces still so close from your kisses that your noses brush, but you don’t pull away- you need him to know that it’s not his fault. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t that at all.”

“Then what was it?” His grip slips away from around your wrists to slide his fingers between yours instead, holding your hands. “Tell me.”

You go still. His tone is so imploring: he wants to know what’s wrong, so he can fix it, make it better. “Hoseok.” Your voice is quiet. “You’re my best friend, Hoseok.”

“And you’re mine,” he says, squeezing your hands. Your heart feels small and feeble in your chest, a weak little thing that swells up at Hoseok’s words, but immediately shrinks again in fear. “You can tell me anything.”

“You’re my best friend, Hoseok,” you repeat. Hoseok goes silent. “You’re my best friend, and I-” You take a deep breath, trying to fill your lungs, get some oxygen flowing through your terrified heart, taking bellows to a dying ember, trying to grow it into a flame. “Honestly, I’m just selfish, Hoseok,” you say. “I’m just- being your best friend is already everything to me- but I’m so selfish-”

“Y/n.” Hoseok’s voice is a hush.

“I’m in love with you, Hoseok.”

There. You said it.

You can feel how Hoseok stiffens, how his fingers go utterly still in yours as you continue to speak.

“I’m in love with you, and I was just so scared you’d realise how head over heels I’ve always been for you and you’d end our friendship because everything I feel is just so much, and I just needed space today, I needed space to try and get my head straight and not scare you away by making things weird, and I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I never want to hurt you, Hoseok. I’m sorry. I love you. Please don’t hate me.”

You take in a deep shuddering breath once all the words have spilled out of you, so much air. It’s out in the world, now, and you can’t take it back.

As the seconds tick by, the initial heady rush of terror starts to fade and is instead replaced with resignation, unsurprised at how Hoseok is still frozen against you. He’s deathly silent. He’s probably mentally drafting the nicest way to gently let you down, always so kind and lovely, so wonderful, your Hoseok.

A twinge shoots through your heart as you mentally correct yourself- he’s not yours, and he doesn’t want to be. You should have just kept your mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. Your voice is a miserable whisper. “You’re just so easy to love.”

You try to pull your hands out of his so you can slink back to your bed and wallow in your misery, but Hoseok just tightens his grip. You tug again, a little more insistent, and this time he lets go- but before you can roll out of his bed he’s grabbing your face, long, beautiful fingers splaying over your cheeks and jaw, locking you in place as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Y/n.” His voice is uncharacteristically serious, low. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen. “You’re-”

You’re cut off when Hoseok presses his mouth to yours. He’s kissed you before, on your forehead, your cheeks, the bare skin of your shoulder when you wear the sundress he likes so much- but you’ve never felt his heart shaped lips against yours, never felt them soft and warm as they catch your own, and it’s so much. He keeps drawing his mouth across yours, catching your lips between his own, tongue pressing out to swipe across them, and you shiver as the kiss slowly turns slick and wet, even as it stays so tender.

His hands wrap around your waist and he rolls over you, pinning you down with his weight as you keep kissing and kissing and kissing. Your hands are in his hair while his cup your face, holding you like you’re something delicate and precious, palms warm against your skin. You don’t separate to breathe, keeping your lips locked as the kisses turn open-mouthed, Hoseok’s tongue gliding against yours, the lingering taste of your shared toothpaste mingling with his saliva- you shiver underneath him when he nips at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you crane your head forward to press further into his mouth, kisses slow and deep, and by the time you finally separate, you feel dizzy and breathless.

“Hobi,” you breathe out. “Hobi, turn the light on, I want to see you.”

Hoseok leans over you to flick on the bedside lamp, illuminating you both with its bright light- you can see how kiss swollen his gorgeous mouth is, how the sheen of your saliva on his flushed lips glows gold from the lamplight, how his hair is a mess from how you’ve been running your hands through it. He looks like your best friend, and also nothing like that at all, something familiar and unfamiliar all at once. Hoseok, forever changed by the touch of your lips.

“My baby.” He’s smiling at you, all warmth and fondness, and you squirm underneath him, embarrassed by the weight of his affection for you. “Y/n. I love you too.”

You probably shouldn’t be surprised, considering how Hoseok has just kissed you breathless, but you still feel your heart stutter in your chest. You’re staring up at him with your wide eyes as he bends forward again- he mimics what you did earlier, trailing kisses over your forehead and cheekbones and nose before he kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other, then your cupid’s bow, then just under the swell of your bottom lip. “I love you, love you, love you,” he says, punctuating each kiss with the repeated confession, as if each time he says it it’s not punching the air out of your lungs.

“Hoseok?”

“Yes?” He’s still smiling, those warm little creases under his eyes as he looks at you, every inch of him just screaming out happiness. You did that. He’s happy because of you.

“Do you- do you remember when we first met? Years ago?” You don’t want to break the moment, but he’s never mentioned the umbrella thing and you’ve never asked before and you have a burning desire to know if he can recall-

“Do you mean the first time we actually met, or the first time you officially introduced yourself to me? I remember both,” Hoseok says. “I always knew you’d get the job. Besides, if you hadn’t, you would have had to keep the umbrella,” he adds, smile edging into something a little cheeky. “And then there would have been a pretty girl out there thinking about me every time it rained.”

Your eyes widen before you hide your face in your hands, overwhelmed at the idea that Hoseok had thought that you were pretty before he’d even known you; he coos at you and pulls your hands away to reveal your flustered expression, trapping them against the pillow so you can't hide your face again. Hoseok’s smile has faded into something a little more serious, but no less loving, and although you feel open and naked and vulnerable right now, it’s not because you think he’s judging you.

“You never said anything, so I thought you’d forgotten,” you admit. “But from the second you smiled at me as you handed me that umbrella, I knew I was a goner. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Hoseok.”

It’s not often that you see Hoseok look like this, his eyes so serious and deep, but his entire face is still so soft, smiling. “Me, too,” he confesses. “Me too. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to risk our friendship and I love you too much to want to give that up.”

The smile that splits your face is so wide it almost hurts. “I love you,” you say again, for the sheer novelty of hearing it out loud, seeing how Hoseok lights up- the fact you can say it without fear of his reaction, because he loves you, too. He loves you. He’s in love with you. “I love you, Hoseok, I-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing your words of love into his curved mouth, the two of you smiling and laughing as your lips come together again and again- but when he presses his tongue to your lower lip and you part them, he licks into your mouth in a way that’s almost lewd, warm and wet, and you shiver as you think about exactly how long that tongue is.

Hoseok still has his hands around your wrists from before, and you feel how his grip tightens imperceptibly when he feels you tremble underneath him. Your cheeks feel warm when he pulls back and you wonder if your blush is visible, but Hoseok seems intent on other things, dipping his head forward to catch your earlobe between his teeth for a sharp moment, nipping it before licking it with his hot, wet tongue. Your entire body shudders as he starts to kiss down the side of your jaw, and you tilt your head to give him better access, gasping when he draws his tongue over the oversensitive skin of your neck; you can feel how he smiles against your skin before kissing your throat.

“Hobi,” you breathe, and then gasp when he draws the flat of his tongue over the hollow of your neck. Each teasing touch of his tongue and lips is trickling straight to your core, your panties growing wetter and wetter with your arousal. “Hobi, oh.”

“I’m going to worship you the way you deserve to be worshipped, princess,” he murmurs, lips moving against your collarbones as he speaks. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long." He keeps kissing you between his words, punctuating them with sweeps of his tongue over your skin, and it's so much. "Hold still for me, baby, there you go.”

Hoseok releases your wrists and you flex your fingers but stay in that position, your hands palm up as they rest either side of your head. Hoseok leans back to stare at you underneath him, laid out for his gaze; you’re in an old t-shirt and faded pyjama bottoms, face bare, hair a haphazard mess where it rests against the pillow, but he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Like you’re draped in diamonds and gold and silks. He looks at you with reverence and love, like he wants to cherish you- but there’s also something deeper in those half-lidded eyes of his, like he wants to swallow you whole.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. You bite your lip, swallowing down a needy noise at the tone of his voice, hands clenching into fists where they rest beside your head.

“Hobi, please,” you say. “I need you.”

“You have me.” He takes one of his hands and slowly pushes the material of your shirt up, dragging his palm over your skin as he reveals the softness of your stomach. He lets the material bunch just under your breasts, ignoring how your nipples have hardened and stand out through the thin cotton of your old tee, running his fingers over your sides; you buck a little underneath him, sucking in a breath at how his touch is almost ticklish. “So sensitive.”

“You haven’t even touched me properly yet,” you say, a little snarky despite your breathlessness, but then you’re cut off when Hobi’s hands slide under the t-shirt to cup your breasts, palms and fingers cool against your overheated skin. Your pussy clenches when he flicks his thumbs over each of your hardened buds, running the pads of his fingertips over them, and you arch into his touch.

“So sensitive,” he says again, a little smile behind his words as he watches how your chest rises and falls under his hands, sucking in air when he pinches your nipples between his fingers. “Do you like that, baby?”

“Like it when you touch me,” you sigh. Hoseok smiles, flashing his teeth at you before leaning forward to kiss you again. He coaxes you to lift up a little so he can pull off your shirt, smoothing your hair when it gets ruffled by the motion, but before you can smile up at him for his tenderness, he lowers the heat of his mouth over one of your nipples and you gasp.

One of your hands flies up to grasp his hair when he circles the bud with his tongue, and you let out a low moan as he continues to lave attention on it, flattening his tongue and dragging it over the sensitive flesh. He alternates between your breasts, using his hands and fingers on whichever he’s not suckling between his lips; goosebumps erupt over your skin, and you keep biting back whines and gasps each time he does something particularly wicked with his mouth.

You feel so, so wet, arousal pooling between your legs, and you need him to touch you there. But he's slow, taking his time until your chest is heaving and your skin is flushed and your nipples are slick from the wetness of his mouth, his fingers just the right side of rough whenever he pinches the hardened peaks, and you mewl beneath him.

You’re just about to beg Hoseok to give you more when he finally lifts his mouth from your nipple, and you go tense as he starts to trail his lips down the valley of your breasts, across the sensitive skin of your stomach, hands roaming over the rest of you; he slides down the bed until he’s resting between your legs, and all you can think about is how close his mouth is to where you want it to be.

You’re so wet that you’ve soaked right through your panties, a touch of dampness clinging to the flimsy material of your pyjama bottoms too, and you shiver at the way Hoseok seems to drink down the sight before he hooks his fingers into the loose elastic waistband, and starts to inch them down. He’s moving torturously slowly, kissing your bare legs as he reveals your skin, touching his lips to your thighs, your calves, your ankles.

He does the same again with your panties, even more slowly; palms sliding up the side of your legs so he can curl his fingers around the fabric of your underwear and peel it off you. You shiver when your pussy is finally revealed, your inner thighs slick with your arousal and cooling from the touch of the air- Hoseok continues to suck and kiss trails across your legs even as he stares at your naked, weeping core, his gaze heavy as he drinks down the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, running his fingers over your bare skin as you tremble beneath him. “So gorgeous and perfect. Look at you, all laid out, just for me. I love you.”

“Hoseok,” you whimper. He’s still entirely clothed while you’re naked and bare, and you feel utterly debauched in comparison to him, the sheen of his saliva still shining over your body, nipples hard, your pussy lips flushed from arousal, every part of you begging for more- meanwhile he’s still got his surprisingly cute matching pyjama set on. The contrast is making your dizzy. He cups your foot in one of his hands, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner ankle, and your toes curl. “Please, baby, I need you.”

“I’ve got you, princess,” he murmurs. He drops one last kiss to your ankle before shifting towards your canting hips; his breath curls out over your core and you shudder, another flood of arousal shooting through you, your cunt clenching as Hoseok stares at it shamelessly. “Look at you,” he says, reverent. “So pretty and wet for me.”

“Hobi,” you whine. You bite back a gasp as he hooks your fingers behind your knees and forces your legs apart, spreading you open, entirely helpless underneath his hungry gaze. You watch in wonder as he lets his tongue curl out of his mouth, looking sinfully dirty as he does- but then you let out a whine when he turns his head away from your pussy and licks the inner seam of your thigh instead. Your hips jump at the sensation, your skin so sensitive from the attention that he’s lavishing on you, but it’s not where you want his mouth to be, even if the lingering kisses he’s giving to your inner thighs feel good. “Hoseok, please.”

He hums indulgently, and you’re about to start begging again when he purses his lips and blows out a puff of air over your flushed lower lips; the sudden chill against your damp folds has you tensing, and before you can gather your wits Hoseok drags his hot, wet tongue up the seam of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You cry out from the sudden explosion of sensation when he repeats the motion but presses past your lower lips to tongue at your slit, lapping up the juices at your entrance before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, your spine arching as your hips buck. “Oh, God, Hoseok, yes, right there.”

He slides one of his arms over your stomach, trapping you, holding you down as you try to cant your hips towards his mouth. You sob with pleasure as he continues to drink down your juices, leisurely licking at the most sensitive parts of you, in no rush at all. “Hobi, please,” you beg. “Please, I need more.”

Hoseok turns his head to lightly bite your inner thigh, your leg twitching at the sensation, surprised at how pleasurable it is. “Ssh,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time. I want to savour it,” he says, and you let out a whine when he dips his head back down and starts to lap at your clit again, his dark eyes watching each of your reactions, the way you writhe and curl your toes each time he dips back down to your entrance, pressing his tongue inside you. “You taste so good, baby. Your pretty little cunt is so perfect.”

You whine at the praise, writhing when each swipe of his tongue over you is fanning the flames of your arousal higher and higher, and you can feel how the coil inside you is tightening, so close to reaching your peak. Hoseok’s still eating you out, nice and slow, and you’ve never felt an orgasm creep up on you like this- you moan as Hoseok finally buries his face in your pussy, tongue sliding from your slit, to your clit, over and over.

It’s so, so good, and then you watch as he slides one of his long fingers inside you and curls it inside you just right- “I’m gonna cum, Hoseok, I’m- oh!”

The intensity of your orgasm hits you like a freight train, exploding from deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed and your toes curl as you cum and cum and cum, Hoseok keeping his mouth on you the whole time, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure wash over you, wetness flooding out of your cunt that he drinks down eagerly.

The build up was slow, and the come down is slow, too, aftershocks rippling through your body for longer than any orgasm you’ve had before, and Hoseok keeps licking and sucking you through it all until you’re almost crying out from the overstimulation and you have to push his head away. The aftershocks are still rippling through your body as Hoseok rises, your pussy clenching each time, and you feel boneless and strung out- but you know Hoseok isn’t done with you yet.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he says. You reach out for him and he comes so easily, fitting himself between your arms. His lips and chin shine with evidence of your arousal and when you pull him in for a kiss you can taste yourself across his tongue, a noise bubbling up at the back of your throat when you feel how slick his lips are against yours.

“Wanna make you cum too,” you say, your voice weak after the strength of that orgasm; you take in a deep breath, willing the oxygen to bring some energy back into your body. “Baby. Hoseok.”

“Mm.” He kisses you again. “You will, baby, don’t worry, you’re always so good for me.”

Your fingers fumble when you try to unbutton his shirt, but when Hoseok laughs, it’s not patronising at all; he just sounds fond. He takes over, deft fingers making quick work of the shirt before he throws it aside, revealing the slim line of his body to you. He’s beautiful and lean, nipples dark, skin golden, with a dark trail of hair that dips down into his pyjama bottoms- your eyes zero in on the way Hoseok’s loose pyjamas do nothing to hide his erection, the hard strain of his cock against the fabric, and you let out a little sigh of happiness that you’re finally getting to see what you’ve been desperately staring at all day. When you reach out for him your fingers barely brush his skin, and you make a greedy little noise, hungry for more.

“Need you,” you say. You want Hobi inside you, splitting you open, as close to each other as you can physically be. “Clothes off now.”

Hobi lets out a loud laugh, and you melt at the utter joy in the sound, how his face is so open and bright.

“God, I love you,” he says, before unceremoniously shedding the offending garments. He wiggles his hips in an entirely unsexy manner, and you end up laughing too when he gets one of his legs caught and has to kick the pyjama bottoms off in an entirely graceless way. You’re still letting out quiet giggles even as Hoseok is finally bare in front of you, beautiful and unabashed in his nakedness, and you love him.

You feel like liquid sunlight, overflowing with happiness; you’ve never laughed like this with anyone before, both naked yet still somehow amused, flipping from all-consuming arousal one second to laughter the next, but it just feels natural. Because it’s Hoseok, and everything feels so easy with him.

“I love you too,” you say, and then, when your eyes drop to his cock, you say: “God, you’re beautiful.”

His cock is gorgeous, curving up towards the ceiling, a drop of precum beaded at the tip; it’s not completely straight, hanging just a little to the left, but it’s Hoseok, so it’s perfect. He wraps his fingers around your hips and you let out a little squeal when he tugs you down the bed towards him so that your legs are dangling off the side and your hips are practically flush; his cock bobs when he moves and you shiver with how close it is to your heated core. Just like the rest of him, it’s long and lean and gorgeous, and you can’t wait to have it inside you. Although-

“Don’t I get to taste you?” You can’t help but say this with a pout, and Hoseok’s face splits into a wide smile.

“Next time, baby,” he promises. “Tonight is for you.”

Next time. The realisation that tonight is just one of many, just the start of an entirely new chapter in your life with Hoseok- that you’ll still be friends, best friends, but also more- settles inside you, warm and soft and safe. Your face creases into a smile and you slide your hands up Hoseok’s body, over his stomach and chest, touching all the skin you can, relishing in the fact that you’ll grow familiar with it all in a way that you never could have dreamed of.

“You’re always so good to me,” you say.

“You deserve it, princess,” he replies. You tilt your hips towards him and you see how his eyes darken at the motion, tenderness swallowed by lust, and your body lights up like a livewire in preparation, ready to feel him push inside you. You’re already loose and wet from your first orgasm, but you don’t protest when Hoseok starts to run his fingers over the seam of your thigh; he presses straight in with two fingers, your body opening up for him so easily, and you gasp at how deep they move inside you, so long and pretty.

“There, Hobi, right there.” He’s clearly not trying to bring you to orgasm again but he still listens to your directions, keeping the motions of his hands the same, fingers rubbing over your inner walls so perfectly.

You can hear it, noises slick and dirty before he pulls them out, and you watch as he uses your arousal to slick up his cock, rubbing your juices over his hard length. It’s lewd, how he does it, pumping himself as he spreads it over his cock, wet noises vulgar and obscene, shooting straight to your core; you don’t think you’ve ever seen or heard anything so arousing in your life, the way Hoseok has his lip caught between his teeth as he looks at you, cock stiff between his legs as he runs his fingers over it.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper. “Hoseok, fuck.”

You arch your back when he grips his cock in one hand, guiding himself towards you- but rather than pressing into your entrance he runs his throbbing length back and forth through your lips, gathering even more of the wetness there, the slide so easy and smooth. It’s the most delicious, glancing pressure against your clit, not enough to satisfy, but enough to have you gasping again, the way you can feel the silken heat of his cock against you.

“Hoseok, please.” You don’t attempt to hide the desperation in your voice. “I need you.”

Hoseok lets out a guttural groan at your words; he drinks in how blown your pupils are, the flush from your orgasm still visible over your chest, the way your fingers are clutching the bedsheets, white cotton tangled in your grasp. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, and finally, finally, he grasps his length and tilts it to your entrance. He rests there for a second, the tip barely touching you, and you see how he steels himself as he grasps your hips, before he starts to sink into you.

“Oh!” He fills you so well, inch by torturous inch, your body opening up for him so easily it’s like his cock was made to fill you; once he bottoms out you can feel how snug he is inside you, cockhead pressed against your cervix, and you shiver. “Oh, yes, Hoseok, so good.”

He stays still for one long, drawn out moment, before his hands slip off your waist and he reaches for yours. You entwine your fingers with his, staring up at him as he leans forward and kisses you; the motion has his cock shifting inside you and you whine a little against his lips, before biting off a gasp when he rocks his hips forwards. The motion is fluid and rolling, and Hoseok sets an unhurried pace, languidly filling you up with his cock, over and over and over.

The pleasure that’s growing in you is slow and relaxed. You’re not chasing your orgasms- you’re revelling in the closeness, the connection, the slip of skin against skin, how Hoseok is filling you up, how you’re drawing him in. You end up staring into each other’s eyes, Hoseok’s forehead pressed to yours so there’s nothing in your vision but him; you only break eye contact when one particularly deep roll of his hips sends a shudder through you, your eyes squeezing shut as you gasp.

“Feel so good, baby,” Hoseok murmurs. “So good for me.”

You make a noise of confusion when he lets go of your fingers and leans back, straightening up, but then he hooks his hands under your knees and you lift your hips; you drape your legs over his shoulders, arched towards him, lower body lifting off the mattress. Hoseok drives forward and you immediately gasp at how he hits your sweet spot straight on, the change of angle forcing the head of his cock to brush the top of your inner walls, each drag of the blunt head sending shocks of pleasure shooting through you.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock, princess,” Hoseok says, and you shudder. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, Hobi, yes- faster- oh-”

Hoseok starts to ramp up the pace, snapping his hips into yours with the sound of slapping skin, and you can feel how you’re starting to tighten around him, pussy clenching with each thrust of his hot cock inside you. “Gonna cum for you, Hobi,” you say. “So close, fuck.”

He takes one of his hands off your waist and slides three fingers over your clit, and you cry out with pleasure as he starts to rub at your bundle of nerves in tight circles; the added stimulation is just what you need, and you tumble over the edge into your second orgasm of the night. Hoseok moans when he feels how your cunt clenches around him, rippling tightness around his cock, and your eyes fall shut as your mouth falls open and you rock your hips into the sensation, grinding against Hoseok to prolong the pleasure, and he continues to snap his hips forward.

You go lax, almost limp, but Hoseok is still hard inside you, so you try your best to keep your back arched towards him; the fluid roll of his thrusts is starting to fall out of rhythm as he approaches his own peak, and although your pussy is crying out at the oversensitivity, you try to match his pace, canting your hips towards Hoseok each time he drives forward.

“Want your cum all over me, Hobi,” you say. “Want you to cum on my tits-”

Hoseok curses, composure slipping entirely for the first time all night, and you feel how he fumbles his rhythm before he catches himself. His thrusts are fast and choppy before he pulls out and drops your hips to the mattress; you whine at the sudden emptiness, but then he’s shuffling his knees onto the bed and he has his hand wrapped around his slick length, jerking himself hard and fast as you arch your back and push your chest towards him.

“So fucking beautiful,” he says through gritted teeth. “So pretty, baby- fuck!”

He gasps in air before he lets out one long, drawn out moan, and then there’s hot cum splattering across your breasts, whiteness painting itself across your skin. Hoseok continues to pump himself, cock letting out more ropes of cum, and you can’t help but let out a noise of satisfaction at the sight, lifting your hands to run over his hip bones and waist and flexing thighs, watching the way Hoseok’s face draws together as he rides out his own orgasm, until his hand falls away from his cock and he’s slumping forwards over you, panting.

You hum, reaching for him and pulling him down so you can brush your lips against his. “You’re so hot when you cum,” you say. “I could watch you cum all day.”

Hoseok lets out a breathless laugh before he kisses you again, properly this time- you’re content to keep kissing regardless of the cum that’s starting to cool on your chest, but Hoseok is insistent on being a gentleman and excuses himself to the bathroom to get a towel so he can clean you up. When he drags the damp towel over your skin, he’s so soft and gentle, although you still shiver a little when the rough fabric drags over your nipples; he bends down and kisses you in apology.

You feel warm and small and soft, watching as Hoseok walks around the bed, still naked; the paltry lamp light is still more than enough for you to see every line of his beauty, the way each of his muscles shifts under his skin as he walks and moves, bending over to gather some of the discarded clothes from the floor. You sit up and lift your arms so he can help you back into your thin t-shirt, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him with a firm press of your lips, before he shimmies back into his boxers, though you personally don’t think he needs them.

When you finally settle down for the night you both curled up on your bed- because Hoseok’s is rumpled and sweaty from your previous exertions- and nestle up gratefully under the sheets, warm from the weight of the duvet and Hoseok spooning you from behind.

“I love you,” he murmurs, nosing at the side of your neck.

“I love you too,” you reply, and then end up giggling a little, stomach jumping under Hoseok’s hand. “I need to buy Namjoon a thank you slash apology gift when we get home, you know,” you say thoughtfully. “He had to put up with me having a meltdown about you, and it turns out he was right.”

Hoseok brushes his nose over your ear. “Jin kept making pretty blasé comments to me about us,” he tells you. “But he does that about most things, so.”

You hum lightly before pressing back further against Hoseok, who tightens his hold around you in response. “I guess they knew before we did,” you say. “We’ve been acting like a couple for a long time, to be fair.” Thinking back on it, it was pretty obvious, but hindsight is 20/20, as they say.

The next morning, as always, you wake before Hoseok- and this time when you feel the hardness pressed into your ass, you don’t panic. You do what you always do and slide carefully out of Hoseok’s arms, but unlike every other morning, he doesn’t wake up to an empty bed. Instead, he wakes up with a small gasp to the sight of you with your mouth around his cock, your eyes wide and innocent as you stare up at him; you work him up while he’s still half-asleep and slow, swallowing down his cock until he cums down your throat. You litter kisses over his hips and thighs, smiling into his skin as he comes down from his peak, his pupils blown.

“Morning, Hobi,” you say, kissing the divot below his hip bones. “I love you.”

“Come here,” he says, voice still a rasp from his sleep, eyes hungry as he reaches for you.

When the two of you eventually stumble downstairs for breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung are already there; you’re much later than normal but neither of the boys seems to notice anything out of the ordinary, Taehyung asking Hoseok to pass the pepper mill as soon as you’ve sat down.

Taehyung is enthusiastically grinding pepper over his bacon and eggs when Jimin pipes up. “You know, the ghosts in this B&B apparently like to watch the guests while they try to sleep and make noises to keep them up,” he says conversationally. “You didn’t happen to notice anything out of the ordinary in your room, did you? Taehyung and I could have sworn that we heard moaning or something at some point, but I think it must have been a trick of our minds.”

You and Hoseok exchange a quick glance. “Uh, nope, can’t say that we did,” you say, and Hoseok nods emphatically in agreement.

Jimin pauses. He squints at you, before turning to Taehyung and pulling the pepper mill out of his hands to get his attention. “I told you it was going to happen soon,” Jimin says. “They finally hit critical mass and confessed. I knew that moaning wasn’t from ghosts.”

“And there’s no mess to clean up, even if we didn’t win the betting pool.” Taehyung sounds pleased. “Can you pass the salt now please?”

You watch incredulously as both boys continue their business as usual, Taehyung swapping the pepper mill for the salt grinder while Jimin opens a tiny jar of raspberry jam for his toast.

You turn to Hoseok, scandalised at the idea that a) your friends/co-workers heard you last night and b) there’s apparently some sort of office bet about your relationship with Hoseok, only to find that the man in question has a look of alarm on his face.

“Do you think the ghosts were watching us last night?” He has an expression that’s a mix of affronted and also scared. “That’s dirty.”

“No, baby, I don’t think we had ghostly voyeurs in our room,” you say, stroking Hoseok’s hand with reassuring fingers, before you frown and look back at the other two boys. “I hate our friends. You have a betting pool?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty big,” Taehyung says. “I’m not sure who’s won the money, I’d have to check the spreadsheet when we get back home.”

“I bet Jin was the one who came up with it, wasn’t he?” Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look, but neither of them say anything, which is more than enough to answer your question. “I’m going to shove a wedge of parmesan down his throat when we get home and see how he likes it.”

“I love you,” Hoseok says.

“I love you too,” you reply, turning your head to accept the kiss he gives you.

“You’re so cute,” Jimin says.

“Why parmesan?” Taehyung asks, before twisting the salt grinder with enough gusto that he pulls the bottom off and salt goes cascading over his breakfast. “Oh, oops. Do you think they’ll let me have more eggs?”

Your thank you/apology gift to Namjoon is a tin of Scottish shortbread that you find in a cute tourist shop, although when you find out he’s actually the proud winner of 50% of the betting pool, you take the shortbread back for yourself and Hoseok instead.

When Yoongi arrives at his desk to the sight of you sitting in Hoseok’s lap and feeding him between kisses, he just rolls his eyes, mutters ‘finally’, and makes no further comments. You laugh into Hoseok’s mouth and allow Jungkook to steal a piece of shortbread on his way past, too busy kissing your boyfriend to care.

“You can have the last bit of shortbread,” you say, and Hoseok grins up at you.

“You’re just saying that because I ate you out this morning,” he says, and you giggle.

“I can’t believe you just made me listen to that with my own two ears. I’m in hell.” Yoongi sounds so tired. “I think I preferred it when the two of you were dancing around each other. Go back to doing that.”

“No can do, Yoongles,” you sing-song. “I love Hoseok and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

“I love you too,” Hoseok says, looking up at you with bright eyes, and you giggle before dipping down to kiss him again.

“Everyone else knew before you did,” Yoongi mutters, but neither of you pay him any mind.

#jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts x reader #jhope fluff #hoseok fluff #bts #jhope #jung hoseok #joy.masterlist

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gwyns · 2 years

Note

inquiring minds would love to know what your thoughts on hosab are? 👀

i would like to apologize to the inquiring minds for replying to this so late! i wanted to try and gather my thoughts before i wrote this but tbh it'll probably just end up being a mish mash of word vomit anyway so here we go!!

the short answer is: i loved it. i absolutely devoured it. couldn't put it down.

to get more into it, everytime sjm releases something i am reminded of why, exactly, i love her books so much. sure maybe sometimes the plot is messy, or she pulls things out of her ass (i do this too so idc lmao), but she has such a way with creating characters you care about. that's the most important thing to me, and something she definitely succeeded in with hosab.

i adored quinlar in this book, they invented mates as far as i'm concerned. i can't even pick a few favorite quotes bc they served this entire book?? they're the stars of the series for a reason. i've said before that i think they're sjm's best main couple and i'm so happy she went with them. i mean it was never in question for me after reading hoeab but some people were so adamant that they'd be something that sjm "doesn't do" when in fact they're the exact thing sjm loves lol it was nice to have vindication.

and sir ithan holstrom? i'm not kidding here when i say he's cc's equivalent of chaol and lucien for me. he's just so.... ahjklsdhdjklhkjsdjk i need more of him immediately. i cannot begin to explain the level of love i have for this moron and it breaks my heart that he's currently in a very angsty place, looking for his home. i mean he has the aux guys and they're forever friends of course but it's not truly his you know? i can't wait to see what sjm does with his character next, him and that fendyr heir 👀 (real story: as soon as ithan "saved" her i was like wait a minute........ is something going to develop here?? and i hope i'm right bc i really liked what we saw of her in hosab)

do not even get me started on flynn and ariadne. we all know how bad i have it. they're pretty much my favorite cc ship behind quinlar and they barely interacted like??? what is this???? once ari said "i'm beyond your pay grade, lordling." and flynn replied with "try me." they had me. i can't escape the permanent brainrot they've given me. if sjm takes them away from me i'll cry so hard, no joke, the condescending use of sweetheart hasn't failed me yet and it better not start now!

alright let me take a minute to talk about cormac bc i've barely seen anyone mention him! am i the only one who loved this dude?? like even when his true motives were still a secret i was looking... he was a douche but he was hot????? i'm glad he wasn't an actual douche tho and i refuse to acknowledge that he's dead. nope! it happened off-screen, there's no way to actually confirm he's dead! not until sjm looks me in the eye and tells me. i have faith in a dramatic re-reveal in cc3.

and the twists hello??? maybe i'm dumb but aside from the ones that got spoiled for me (the crossover and day's identity) i never saw them coming?? baxian??? hypaxia and celestina???? DANIKA'S DAD??????

and i won’t go into depth with this bc there are many other people who can talk about this subject better than me but my GOD the lore we got in hosab that relates to both lunathion and prythian???? i’m salivating. i need more.

overall hosab didn't make me sob uncontrollably but it made in feel in other ways. for instance, i will die on the hill that (so far) it is sjm's funniest book. you can tell how much she loves this world and its characters bc it truly does show and idk if i'll be able to stop thinking about this book for the coming months.

#honestly i have so many thoughts on hosab but its hard to put them all together you know?? so consider these my highlights idk #i think acotar will always be my favorite sjm series but man..... cc hits different. i love it so much #hosab spoilers #house of sky and breath spoilers #cc2 spoilers #ccity 2 spoilers #asks #selkane

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fangirlwriting-stories · 3 years

Text

Reflecting Light

Chapter One

Chapter Ten:

The rebellion base was huge. Remus had not expected anything so massive to be the main force fighting against his former home. He was a little surprised they weren’t more of a talked about threat. Maybe The Light just wanted them all to think there weren’t a lot of people against them, when that was clearly the opposite of the case.

Janus was bringing them in to dock, and Virgil was standing up next to him as the rest of the crew was working down on the deck to help with that process. Remus got another pass this time due to the child sitting on his shoulders to get a better view of what they were approaching. Virgil and Janus both seemed amused at Remus and Thomas’ awe.

“Your home is amazing!” Thomas called, turning quickly to Virgil and Janus.

“Woah, careful kid, I don’t want to drop you,” Remus called, reaching up to steady him.

“Sorry!” Thomas called down. “But isn’t it cool?”

“It’s very cool,” Remus agreed with a smile. “I like the garden.”

There was in fact a huge garden out in front of the base, complete with fruit trees, long lines of crops, and some flowers that seemed to be planted either for tea or for beauty’s sake. Remus had never seen anything like that in his home growing up.

“Yeah, it can sustain the whole base,” Virgil said. “This isn’t all, by the way, there’s more garden’s around back. Just the part up here would hardly sustain everyone in the rebellion and all the towns. Though Janus and I used the garden more for the climbing trees when we were kids.”

Thomas gasped in excitement. “Can I climb the trees?”

“As long as someone is there with you,” Janus said with a smile.

“Okay, I pick Remus!”

“Someone who will make sure you’re safe instead of deciding to climb the trees with you,” Janus amended.

“Rude,” Remus said, shooting not at all serious glare at Janus. “I will have you know this child’s safety is my second highest priority.”

“Which is right after?”

“Having fun.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Thomas giggled and leaned over so he could see Remus’ face. “I like having fun too. That’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Hey, I’m wounded,” Janus exclaimed, as Virgil pressed a hand to his chest with a similar spirit involved.

Thomas laughed again. “Too bad, Remus is my favorite!” he called, sticking his tongue out towards Janus and Virgil.

Virgil turned to Remus, shaking his head. “We bring you aboard our ship, we house you, feed you, care for you, and you betray us.”

“You should have seen it coming,” Remus said, reaching up to high five Thomas, who gladly did so. “I have not known any children since I was one myself, but I can say for a fact that they all love me.”

Virgil sighed and shook his head. “They probably will. It’s your crazy uncle energy.”

“Crazy uncle Remus!” Thomas called, wrapping his arms around Remus’ head, and coincidentally over his eyes, blocking Remus’ view.

“I’ve gone blind,” Remus said.

“You will never see again!” Thomas proclaimed loudly.

“Well, that’s a real shame,” Janus said casually. “I guess he can’t supervise your tree climbing then.”

“Okay, wait, he can see again!” Thomas called, and the hands were suddenly gone from Remus’ eyes. It was good timing too, as the ship was landing at that moment.

They’d landed alongside many other ships, and over to the side, a large set of double doors had opened and out of it walked an older man wearing a sweater vest and a pair of nice pants, along with glasses that were revealed to be a little crooked on his face as he approached.

“Welcome home, everyone!” he called as he boarded the ship. Everyone down below smiled and waved along with friendly chatter, and Remus immediately got the impression that the man, who could only be Janus and Virgil’s father, was well liked.

He came up towards the top of the deck last, and smiled immediately at Remus and Thomas.

“Janus, Virgil, did you pick up a couple of extra people on this trip?” he asked. Remus would have greatly disliked that question, and he figured Thomas would have too, if not for the large smile and the easygoing tone it was asked with.

“Uh, kinda, yeah,” Virgil said, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is Remus, he snuck on as a stowaway and we just kinda… kept him. And Thomas came from the orphanage last stop, we’re actually gonna have to talk about him.”

Now Thomas seemed uncomfortable, and ducked down behind Remus’ head.

“Hey, it’s okay, kid,” Remus said, reaching up to give Thomas a hand to squeeze.

“Oh yeah, nothing bad, I promise,” Virgil reassured.

“How could I ever think anything bad about someone as adorable as yourself, anyway? I’m Emile,” Emile said, walking forward and holding out a hand, which Thomas tentatively shook. “It’s lovely to meet you. And you as well, Remus.”

“Hey,” Remus said, giving a mini-salute. “Sorry I snuck onto your son’s ship, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.”

Emile laughed. “Honest, I like that,” he said, and Remus winced inwardly. If he was going to describe himself, he had far too many secrets to count ‘honest’ as one of the words he’d use. “We’re always happy to welcome new people, whether they’re looking to help, or just need a place to stay.”

“Dad,” Janus said, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to give them the slogan.”

“It’s a true slogan,” Emile said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at Janus. “I can’t ask everyone who comes here to be comfortable with fighting The Light, some just got away from situations that would leave them very uncomfortable with doing so.”

Remus blinked, taking a minute to try and absorb that idea. Back at The Light, if he ever admitted to being uncomfortable with anything, he was told to suck it up, smacked, or smacked and told to suck it up. But he doubted that with what Emile just said that would be his main course of action. That meant he might not have to fight Roman. Something in Remus’ chest that had been tense since he’d run from The Light finally started to loosen.

“Yeah, yeah,” Virgil said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the railway over the main deck. “But anyway, we’re not staying long. I mean, Thomas and Remus can stay if they want to,” he said, although Remus could already tell he didn’t seem happy about the idea. “But we only came because we ran out of food. We have a few more stops to make.”

“Alright,” Emile said, although he didn’t look very happy about that either. “But you’re staying the night, you hear?”

“Alright,” Virgil said, in the tone of voice he used when he was pretending to be very annoyed. He turned to Remus and Thomas a second later. “Do you guys want a tour?”

“Oh! Oh, yes please!” Thomas called happily. “I wanna see where you and Janus grew up!”

“Well, unfortunately,” Emile said. “The two of them have to get the food situation handled for the rest of your trip. But I can do that while they’re busy.”

“What? Dad!” Virgil exclaimed.

“You can join when you’re done,” Emile said with an amused smile.

Neither Janus or Virgil looked happy about this development, but they didn’t complain as Remus and Thomas followed Emile down to the deck and off the ship. Thomas waved to everyone as they went, who all smiled as they waved back. Thomas had pretty quickly become everyone’s favorite person on board. The kid lit up the space around him.

“So you saw the garden as you came in,” Emile said as they walked past the garden to the doors. He pulled them open, and revealed a long hallway with numerous doors and a few people milling about.

“Hey Remus, let me down!” Thomas called. Remus reached up and picked Thomas up off his shoulders, then set him down on the ground, holding on to his hand so he could be sure Thomas wouldn’t run off to talk to someone and get lost in this giant base they’d never been in before.

Thomas waved at quite a few people as they passed, and everyone once again waved back with a smile. Emile stepped up to Remus’ other side as they walked. “Well he seems to make friends easily, doesn’t he?” he asked.

Remus smiled a little himself and nodded. “It’s very offensive to people like me, who cannot make friends to save their life.”

Emile laughed. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said with a smile. “You seem to have won over both of my sons.”

“That was different, I impressed them by sneaking onto their ship. I intimidated them into friendship.”

“Ah, yes, you’re very intimidating,” Emile said, with an amused look that meant he definitely didn’t believe that in the slightest. Remus was going to have to change that, but that could happen after they finished their trip.

They made their way down the long hallway as Emile introduced them to a couple of people, and turned right at the end, heading down a second hallway with significantly more people there. They headed down that way a little as Emile showed them the cafeteria, which was much smaller than the cafeteria from The Light, but there were apparently multiple throughout the base, so that made more sense. The cafeteria was pretty full at the moment, as it apparently usually was, and quite a few people recognized Emile as they walked through it, waving to him and then introducing themselves to Thomas and Remus.

They headed out the other side of the cafeteria into what Emile said were sleeping quarters. Most rooms were pretty small due to the sheer number of people that were there, but unlike Remus and Roman’s room as a kid, most were decorated, and quite a few themes spilled out into the hallway, making the whole stretch a mish-mash of colors and decorations of all different kinds, many of which shouldn’t have worked together but somehow did, like the room decorated with flowers and bees right next to the one covered in bats and pumpkins.

They headed down to a couple of empty rooms at the end of the hallway, where Emile said they could have free reign to pick one out, as even if they were going to be following Janus and Virgil on trips they would likely spend a fair amount of time here. Thomas pulled away from Remus’ hand and ran off to look in several rooms as Remus hung back a bit with Emile.

He turned to look back down the hallway again, taking in this place that he never thought he would see. His life had changed more than slightly since he’d met Janus and Virgil. He couldn’t be sure if he’d like it here more than back home. The idea that no one would hurt him on purpose was… nice, though Remus still wasn’t sure how much he could trust it yet. And he wasn’t sure how easily he could stomach the idea of fighting against Logan, Patton, and Roman, or even just staying with people who did.

He hadn’t been sure what to think about them in everything that had happened lately. If what Virgil had said about such treatment being undeserved was true, Remus didn’t want to think about the possibility that without him there, they’d move on to someone else. What if Roman got hurt because he’d left? Remus wasn’t sure how he’d live with himself.

“Are you alright?” Emile asked suddenly.

Remus started and turned back to face him. “Huh?”

“You looked bothered for a second there. Are you alright?”

Remus swallowed. “Fine. I’m just… thinking.” He turned back to face Thomas, who was still running between rooms, and tried to make a massive decision in a couple seconds. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t get very far.

“Are you worried about Thomas?” Emile asked. “I got the impression from Virgil introducing him that he was in trouble. That’s the tone he always uses when he’s worried about someone.”

Remus winced. “You should probably ask him and Janus about that. I’m not so sure I’m… qualified to tell you.”

“Oh?” Emile asked, sounding curious. “Why do you think that?”

Remus hesitated again and sighed. “Thomas came from the orphanage at the last stop we made. Virgil and I found out that the person who runs the place was hurting him, which Virgil said was super not okay.”

“Well I would hope that’s what he’d say,” Emile said, crossing his arms as his look turned more curious. “But why exactly would you not be qualified to tell me that?”

Ah, he was running up against that giant decision again. “…How do you feel about Light soldiers?” he blurted out suddenly.

Emile gave a small knowing nod, and Remus was definitely fucked, and not even in the good way. “I don’t think I could tell you,” he said. “I haven’t to my knowledge ever met a Light soldier, so I’m not sure what their life and experiences have been like. If I happened to meet one, I can promise you I would hear them out before I made a decision.”

Remus didn’t say anything to that. He waited long enough that Thomas stuck his head out of the room he was currently in. “I like this one!” he called. “Remus, you can take the one next to it, okay?”

“You got it, kid!” Remus called with a mini-salute. Thomas nodded like that was acceptable and then disappeared back into the room. Remus was quiet for another moment. Finally, he turned to face Emile.

“I don’t know how I can trust you,” he said finally.

“I don’t know why I would ask you to,” Emile replied. “Although I do have to tell you that if I get any kind of sense that you might hurt my sons, I’m not going to trust you.”

Remus didn’t say anything again. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he also very much did not like the silence.

“Hypothetically,” he started. “Let’s say that there was a soldier from The Light who might have gone through something kinda similar to Thomas.”

Emile nodded. “Alright.”

“And he ran away and ended up on a random ship that completely accidentally was led by the sons of the head of the resistance. And it really was accidental. This soldier did not at all intend to make that ship the one he picked. He just… wanted out.”

“Duly noted.”

“But he didn’t really think there was anything wrong with the way he was treated,” Remus muttered, looking away. “Not until he came across Thomas and realized that wasn’t okay either. And then he started questioning everything a little bit. He was never really sure if The Light as a whole was something he agreed with or not, and by that point he was already very close with two leading members of the resistance anyway, and he’s pretty sure he’s not going to betray any of them. He’s definitely not going to go back to The Light. Would this soldier have to worry about getting killed or made a prisoner if he was found out?”

Emile smiled reassuringly. “No, he wouldn’t,” he said. “And I sincerely hope this hypothetical soldier can one day come to realize that the way he was treated was not okay.”

Remus wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that, just crossed his arms and looked back towards the room Thomas was still in.

He was about to head towards it when Emile spoke up again. “Have you thought about telling Janus and Virgil about this?”

Alarm bells immediately went off in Remus’ head. “What?” he asked, turning back to Emile. “But— but Virgil was already pissed when he found out what happened with Thomas, if I tell them about my past they’ll hate me! And I don’t want them to do that!”

To Remus’ surprise, Emile just laughed. “What makes you so sure they’ll hate you?”

“What— because they—”

Remus,” Emile interrupted, shaking his head. “I raised them better than that.”

Remus blinked, and looked down slightly as he processed the statement. “Oh.” He looked down. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Remus thought about that another second. “Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll think about it.”

“Hey!”

Both Remus and Emile glanced over to see Thomas in the doorway of the room he’d picked again. “Are you two gonna come look at my new room or what?”

“Sorry about that, Thomas,” Emile said, as they both started over. “We were just talking. So you like this room, huh?”

…

Remus didn’t end up telling Janus or Virgil that night. They ate dinner and went to some of Virgil and Janus’ favorite places around the base instead. Janus spent most of his time in the planning room when he was needed there, and in the library when he wasn’t. Virgil spent his time similarly, although his free time was spent playing or writing music. Thomas enjoyed that part very much, although Remus was pretty sure Virgil would be playing different songs if Thomas wasn’t around.

Remus hadn’t given a ton of thought to what he liked to do before, as back home he’d spent most of his time either doing something the others liked doing, or breaking the rules for fun when he thought he could get away with it. He didn’t mind the idea of writing songs with Virgil. He might try that sometime, as long as Thomas wasn’t around, because he would definitely be scolded if Thomas heard the kind of songs he’d enjoy writing.

They went to bed fairly early since they had to get up the next morning. Remus stayed in the room next to Thomas like he’d planned, and slept alright considering everything that was on his mind.

Remus got up when Thomas did the next morning, which was far too early for Remus’ liking, but it’s not like he could do much about it when Thomas ran into the room and threw himself on top of his chest.

“I want breakfast!” Thomas called happily. “Janus said they’re making pancakes!”

“What the hell is a pancake?” Remus wheezed out, moving Thomas off of his chest and onto the bed next to him.

Apparently he had said something truly horrible, because Thomas gasped like Remus had killed a puppy in front of him. “How do you not know what a pancake is?! Did Shane never let you have pancakes?”

“Uh, I don’t think that was unique to me,” Remus said, scratching at the hair on the back of his head.

“Shane didn’t let anyone have pancakes?”

Remus laughed a little. “That wasn’t up to Shane, kid. The people in charge picked the food we got to eat.”

“Oh my gosh, they’re horrible too!” Thomas exclaimed. “You have to come eat all of the pancakes now, come on!” He grabbed Remus’ hand and pulled them both out of the room and back towards the cafeteria before either of them had even changed out of their pajamas.

Luckily they didn’t seem to be alone in that, as most people in the cafeteria were clearly not dressed yet. Remus found Jackson and Steven near the door of the room, and headed over to them with Thomas waving as they did so.

“Good morning!” Thomas called happily.

“Morning,” Steven said with a smile.

“You guys, you guys,” Thomas said, tugging on Jackson’s hand. “Remus said he’s never had pancakes!”

Jackson gave him a look. “What horrible place did you grow up in?”

“Ask your mom,” Remus replied on instinct.

Jackson stuck his tongue out at him. “Joke’s on you, I have two dads.”

“Dammit. How am I supposed to defend against the gays? I can’t fight my own people, Jackson.”

Jackson laughed. “Exactly. You’ve trapped yourself.”

“You’ve trapped me. It’s your own fault for having two dads.”

“Well now I have a whole ship full of parents, I win!” Thomas called, which made the other three adults there burst out laughing.

“You aren’t wrong, kid,” Remus said, ruffling Thomas’ hair.

They reached the front of the line at that point, and they were each handed a plate of three flat fluffy cake-like things.

Thomas thanked the men serving the pancakes and walked over to a nearby table, which happened to be the one that Virgil and Janus were sitting at with Emile. Remus, Steven, and Jackson joined a second later.

“G’morning,” Remus said.

“Remus has never eaten pancakes!” Thomas announced to the table. “Everyone watch him as he takes a bite.”

“Oh great, that’ll be fun,” Remus muttered under his breath. He shoved a bite in his mouth before anyone could reply to or fully process Thomas’ sentence.

“Yep, it’s good, I don’t know how I’ve gone my whole life without eating this, you all truly live a luxurious life,” Remus said through a mouthful of food.

Virgil snorted. “Dude, don’t talk with your mouth full, you’re disgusting,”

“Thank you,” Remus said, with his mouth still full.

They were supposed to be leaving after breakfast, but Remus thought that maybe they should call it off when he noticed Janus. He’d known he wasn’t a morning person, but he didn’t normally have a library of books to stay up in all night.

“Uh, you sure you’re not gonna collapse, Jan?” he asked.

Janus moved his exhausted look over to Remus. Remus was fairly sure he was trying to glare at him, but he was too tired for it to come across properly, and it really just resulted in Remus starting to laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m flying the ship today,” Virgil said with a smirk. “He’s gonna nap for another couple hours when we start flying.”

“Hey, that’s just not fair,” Steven said. “None of the rest of us get to nap.”

“Talk to me after you can organize the cargo properly, Steven,” Virgil said.

Steven stuck his tongue out and Virgil laughed.

They gathered the food and other cargo they’d need for the rest of their trip onto the ship after breakfast, and everyone started preparing to launch as a couple people came out to wish them goodbye.

Thomas had announced very loudly that he wanted to go with Virgil and Janus again, and there was no way Remus was going to stay here without his new family, so they both planned on saying goodbye to Emile before heading back on board.

Virgil and Janus were talking to him as they walked up.

“And make sure you’re back on time this time around,” Emile said. “I never see you two enough.”

“We’ll be back on time, don’t worry,” Janus said, giving Emile a quick hug before turning back to the ship. “Now I’m going back to bed.”

“Enjoy you’re beauty sleep, Princess!” Virgil called.

“I will, thanks so much!”

Virgil shook his head after Janus and laughed a little as he headed for the ship too, calling a goodbye with a comment that he should get ready to fly. Thomas ran off after him before Emile turned to Remus.

“Remus, remember what we talked about, okay?” Emile said, raising an eyebrow. “Give it some thought?”

Remus sighed. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

Remus waved too as he headed off to the ship and followed Thomas and Virgil up to the wheel. They took off not long after, with Remus standing next to Thomas who wanted to lean over the side and wave to Emile as they took off. It was only when the rebellion base was finally out of sight that they both headed over next to Virgil again.

“Alright,” Virgil said. “We’ll be in the next town by lunch, probably. We’ve only got a couple more places to stop at and then we’re going straight back home. We’ve got some strategizing to do. I think we’re actually going to make a strike somewhere soon. You should know the area, Remus, it’s close to where we picked you up.”

Remus stilled. Okay. Well that made his decision for him. “Virgil, I have to tell you guys something. Can I talk to you and Janus after we make the drop off today?”

Virgil looked curiously at him. “Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. Just… stuff.”

Virgil’s look turned much more concerned. “You’re sure it can wait? You’re not in trouble, right?”

Remus shook his head.

Thomas tugged slightly on his arm, and Remus looked down. “Promise?” he whispered, looking like he had much more of an idea what was going on.

Remus nodded. “Promise,” he said, both to Thomas and to Virgil.

Virgil nodded a little when he looked back up. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah, of course we can talk.”

Remus nodded a little and looked out at the horizon. The sun was behind a cloud at the moment and they were flying past a flock of birds that Remus let his gaze settle on.

He wasn’t going to fight the people he’d grown up with. If they were striking the area he came from, that meant he could run into Roman. And he wasn’t going to fight his brother, no matter what he ended up deciding about The Light.

It would be fine. Emile said that Virgil and Janus wouldn’t hate him. And they wouldn’t make him fight the people he grew up with. He had evidence of that at this point. It was going to be okay.

…

They arrived in the town they were heading for right around the time Virgil said they would. Thomas was told to stay on the ship that time, as they were behind schedule now and couldn’t risk the delight of a child when met with a market to shop in.

They only had to deliver supplies to a couple shops before heading home, so Virgil, Remus, and Janus each took a couple of boxes and headed for one of the shops before they’d meet back at the ship.

Remus delivered to a nice woman who gave him a free meal, which Remus appreciated but which also reminded him of the conversation he was going to have with Janus and Virgil after lunchtime. Now he had no excuse to put it off. Dammit lady, don’t you know it’s rude to give people a free lunch?

…That sounded better in his head.

However, fortunately— unfortunately? Why did this have to happen today— Remus stumbled across an excuse to put off the conversation the second that he stepped out of the shop.

“Remus!”

Remus froze the second he heard the voice, and then it was followed by a rough hand on his arm and Remus couldn’t breathe. He was spun around to face someone he hadn’t thought he’d ever see again.

“Remus, what the actual hell?” Roman said, pulling Remus closer by the arm, and Remus didn’t like that at all, thanks. He looked around the street to find it empty. Of course it was. Everyone must have left the moment they saw The Light soldier.

“Let go of me,” he growled, shoving Roman backwards.

“Like hell,” Roman snapped, pulling Remus closer, and before Remus could consider whether this was really a good idea he reached out and shoved Roman off of him, then turned to run.

But Roman must have been either quicker or more determined than he realized, because he’d barely made it a couple steps before Roman grabbed his arm again, and yanked him backwards.

“Hey, you’re not leaving until you answer some fucking questions!”

“Let go of me,” Remus said, not liking the way his voice suddenly sounded weaker, and taking a step backwards towards the wall. He was trying to find it in him to listen to the voice in his head telling him this was Roman, not Shane, and Roman had never once hurt him.

Roman must have picked up on something, though, because he finally let go of Remus’ arm, though he didn’t move far enough away for Remus’ liking.

“Seriously, Remus, what the hell? Why did you just vanish suddenly? Are you seriously traveling with the heads of the rebellion? Don’t tell me you’ve actually turned traitor.”

“Get away from me,” Remus said, moving along the wall. “You can’t make me go back. I can’t do it again.”

Roman’s gaze turned confused. “Can’t do what again?”

“Look I know you don’t think it’s a big deal,” Remus said, squeezing his eyes shut. “None of us thought it was a big deal, but it’s not— Virgil said it’s not okay.”

“You are traveling with Virgil?” Roman asked, taking a step closer. “Remus, seriously, what—”

“Get away from me,” Remus snapped, still backing away, but he didn’t make it more than a couple steps before a different, also familiar arm grabbed him, and this one spun him around and slammed him into a nearby wall.

“You little piece of shit,” Shane hissed in his ear. “You actually did run away like a cowardly traitor.”

“Shane!” Roman called in the background, sounding shocked. Remus couldn’t imagine why. What had he thought would happen?

“And here I thought you couldn’t possibly turn out to be any more worthless than I already thought you were,” Shane growled. “You had to go and prove me wrong.”

Remus pushed weakly against the wall in front of him, but couldn’t really get anywhere with the way his arms were shaking.

“Oh, you’re not getting away again,” Shane snapped, pulling Remus back just enough to have force when he slammed his head into the wall again. Remus blinked, suddenly dizzy.

“Go on then, you little pest. Say it. Tell me what you are.”

Remus braced himself against the wall again, trying to think past the way his chest was constricting. “No,” he got out.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Shane growled. “I’m sure I didn’t hear you properly. Say it.”

Remus winced and dropped his arms, trying to muster the will to raise them again. “I— I— I’m—”

The presence at his back was suddenly gone, and by the time Remus spun around Shane was on the ground, a shadow being cast over him by Janus, who lifted up and slammed his foot down on Shane’s head, knocking him out.

“That,” he said. “Is quite enough.”

Remus turned and leaned against the wall, trying to push himself up. “Janus—”

Janus turned to face Remus, and his breath caught when he saw the anger on Janus’ face. He cast half a glance down the street to Roman, then looked back at him, and Remus’ heart fell to his shoes.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes,” Janus said, moving to stand over the guard again. “Be back on the ship by then. Virgil, come help me carry this piece of shit.”

Remus looked back towards the end of the street, where Virgil was standing and staring at him, with a face more shocked than angry. Remus tried to come up with something to say, but after a minute Virgil’s face hardened and he moved forward to help Janus pick up Shane. They both carried him around the corner and out of sight, and Remus finally managed to push himself off of the wall.

“…Remus?”

Remus turned around, finding Roman looking shocked and a little stricken. “Remus, what—” he started.

“You—” Remus cut him off. He breathed in for four seconds and held it, looking back towards the direction Virgil and Janus had taken Shane. Something in his chest snapped in half. “You brought him here?”

“What?”

Remus turned back to Roman. “You were going to bring me back? With him?”

“Back? Hang on, Remus—”

Remus spun back around and buried his hands in his hair. “Holy fuck, Roman,” he choked out. “Look, I know what things are like back home, but you didn’t even consider what you were doing for a second?”

“Woah, hang on. You think I—”

“Shut up!” Remus screamed. People must have heard him, because they started poking their heads back out of houses and around corners. “Shut up, you—” He took a deep breath and tried to calm down the thoughts racing through his head. “They might just kill you if you go home empty handed,” he muttered.

“Remus—”

“Fine, come back to the ship if you want,” Remus said, starting for the edge of the street himself. “But stay the fuck away from me, do you understand?”

He walked around the corner without looking back.

Chapter Eleven

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #pirates #rebellion #angst #abuse #tw abuse #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #my fic

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mediaevalmusereads · 3 years

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Pekolah Stories. By Amanda Bales. Cowboy Jamboree Press, 2021.

Rating: 4.5/5 stars

Genre: short stories, literary fiction, contemporary

Part of a Series? No

Summary: “Amanda Bales’s Pekolah Stories reveal the desperation of rural communities eviscerated by economic collapse, steeped in an unforgiving, poisonous religion, and accustomed to everyday meanness and ravaged families. Children growing up in cultural swamps, in these stories and in real life, never recover. Many die of suicide or violence or drugs. Some go to prison, few go to college, and even the ones who appear to survive carry hidden wounds that threaten to drag them back down. Bales’s stories fearlessly trace the grasping tentacles of generational trauma, leaving readers to reckon with truths that land like a punch to the solar plexus.” —Jeanetta Calhoun Mish

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: violence, blood, homophobia, references to abuse and drug/alcohol use, self-harm and suicide

Overview: In the interest of full transparency, Bales is a friend and (former?) colleague of mine, so while I will try to be as honest as I can in this review, know that my opinions are not unbiased.

I’m not usually one to read short stories, much less short stories set in contemporary America, but because my friend wrote this, I bought a copy and read it cover to cover. I was pleasantly surprised by how much it resonated with me - I think Bales has a real talent for eliciting complex emotions, and I think her stories challenge us as readers to view small-town, rural America as multifaceted - the opposite of the flattened picture pop culture tends to give us. I give this book 4.5 stars primarily because of personal preference; while I enjoyed Bales’s writing and the way she portrayed her characters, I would have liked to see each individual story feel a little more self-contained. Some stories contained scenes that I felt were set-up for the next story (more on structure below), and I personally like my short fiction to stand on its own a little more. Otherwise, if you’re a fan of literary fiction and want to read a more compassionate, multivalenced take on small-town America, I would highly recommend this collection.

Writing: Bales writes in a very accessible manner. Her sentences flow very well, and they aren’t bogged down by too much figurative language (as is characteristic of some lit fic). Instead, it’s easy to grasp what is happening in any given story and Bales balances showing and telling so the prose doesn’t feel mechanical. It’s the kind of style that I think most readers - regardless of background - will find enjoyable and engaging.

Perhaps my favorite thing about Bales’s writing is the way she evokes small town “feelings” (for lack of a better word). Most of the things that punched me in the gut were not outright declarations of “this town is poor” or “this kid is messed up,” but the little details that evoke atmosphere or mood without much ado. For example, there are sentences here and there about kids needing to be bussed to a different school, about people who commute long distances for jobs, about “bibles weighing [people] down like stones.” A lot is communicated in such little space, and Bales don’t hit you over the head with its significance - she lets it sink into your bones, so to speak, and it’s a technique I find very effective.

If I had any criticism, it would probably be that some stories were in first person, and I didn’t quite understand the creative value of using it. I’m admittedly a little biased on this one, though - first person almost always feels unnatural to me, and I’m always looking for what value it adds to the storytelling.

Plot: This book doesn’t have an overarching plot like a novel, and I’m not keen on reviewing every story individually (not to mention that would spoil so much of the book), so I’ll instead talk more broadly about the construction of Bales’s collection as a whole.

Bales does something very interesting in that her stories are united by setting. Each tale takes place in the small town of Pekolah (Oklahoma, I think), and most characters make multiple appearances. In this, her book reads like a composite novel (as Carrie Gessner notes in her Goodreads review), and I think the effect is a good one. It makes the small town “everyone knows everyone” (and their business) cliché feel real, but more than that, it shows off Bales’s ability to make form match function. If everyone knows each other, and the town really is that small, it makes sense that multiple characters would pop up multiple times or that the same events would be referenced across stories. I also really enjoyed that each story felt like an individual thread and that Bales was weaving those threads together to create a tapestry - a picture of a whole town, if you will. I don’t think I’ve seen that structure used in many other short story collections (though admittedly, my experience is limited), and I enjoyed it very much.

If I had any criticism, it would be that I wish some of these threads were a little more self-contained. Some stories felt like they were setting up others, and some had unclear “messages,” so to speak, that I wish were a little more overt. To Bales’s credit, she does comment on things like conversion therapy, religion, poverty, and the like, and I think these themes do come through in the work. I’m just coming from a background of literature that hits you over the head with its themes and morals, and I tend to like texts that are a little more heavy-handed. But if you like things to be a little more ambiguous or don’t like it when authors hold the reader’s hand, you might like this collection.

Characters: Bales’s characters are complex and nuanced in ways that I didn’t quite expect (though I should have known better than to doubt her). The opening story features an out lesbian, while subsequent stories showcase gay men, Indigenous characters, Trump-loving queer people, etc. I liked the way Bales portrayed these characters as flawed; not all of them are “nice” people, but all of them have something that readers can connect to, whether it’s Jack’s frustration and despair or Teddy’s resentment of (certain) White people. While Bales’s stories are not always uplifting and optimistic, the characters are always interesting, and I think they all work together to create a nuanced view of what small town life is like - not homogenous, but still familiar.

TL;DR: Pekolah Stories is a brilliant collection of short stories that treats small town, rural life with compassion while also implicitly criticizing religious zealotry, violence, and the like, exploring the nuances of family relationships, economic despair, community, and more.

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

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Motion Sickness Chapter 50

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Neo helped me find what I was looking for. A place called The Den. I could feel the music even from outside. Neo led me by one hand down a set of long stairs deep into the Atlas rock in her typical silence. The steady beat of techno dance music hammered away at me.

We opened the door to the place and the sound of it rocked me back onto the balls of my feet. I could feel the sound of the music against the hairs on my arms. It was the sort of sound you felt as well as heard. Wump, wump, wump, wump, wump. It was like holding a jackhammer against my stomach.

We came out onto a dance floor of black and white. There were rich golden lights that shone down in alternating fashions. The yellow light alternated with purples, whites, and blues and gave the place an otherworldly feel.

It felt like a stranger's dream. Smoke breezed through the atmosphere of the place and the flood lights poured through the stuff. Both nicotine and Mary Jane filled the air. It was thick enough to cut through like butter. It wafted about and was dense enough that I felt like I could peel away at it.

There were people dancing on the floor in front of us. The women wore satin and silk dresses. Short skirts and slitted outfits were everywhere. The men wore white and blue button downs that played hell with my sense of color in the light. They wore black and brown khakis held up by nice looking belts.

Drinks were served around the edges of the dance floor. There were tables lined up against the walls. Red velvets adorned the seats of the first floor. Alcoholic beverages and cash were exchanged over the circular bar near the center of the dance floor and against the walls.

It was gorgeous and full of life. It was nothing like the Malachite's bar back in Mistral's lower floors.

This was a place the good folks of Atlas could use to get away from it all. And boy were they. The dance floor was a mish-mash-mosh-pit. Flailing limbs raved against day jobs as people tried to waste their evening away.

Wump, Wump, Wump . The hypnotic tune of the dance music battered away at me. It was the sort of sound you felt as much as you heard.

We walked through the raving limbs of the first floor of The Den.

There were other scents on the smoke. Probably other things being inhaled besides traditional stuff and Marijuana. Flashing lights strobed and warbled through the heavy weight of the air.

Neo was holding her nose. For my part I pulled out my own pipe and took a take. My exhalation was lost to the chaos of the first floor.

Atlesians were everywhere. Taking part in those finer things in life and trying to escape their evening. It was all about booze and dance.

Near stairs leading up to the second floor a man in a black shirt and jeans stopped Neo and I. He was armed with a pistol in a holster attached to the side of his chest. He wore dark sunglasses despite being inside which I kinda understood considering the strobe lights and all. He was about my height and broad at the shoulder but the pistol didn't look huntsman class. He didn’t look huntsman class.

I could take him disgustingly easily.

I stopped anyways at his gesture. I tried to read his lips as he spoke into a walkie-talkie on his collar but didn’t get anything. He pressed a finger into a wired microphone in his ear. He must have gotten a response he was looking for because he stepped aside. He swung a red velvet rope with him as he did.

I blew smoke and felt the relaxation take me over. Nobody wanted a fight in a place like this. Not me, and not this guy's boss.

I ascended to the second floor, away from the raving pit of people down on the first. Up here people were smoking harder things. There were razor blades and lines of hyper ready to be taken. In one corner there was an orgy going on. I watched someone do a shot out of a young girl's belly button, too.

I was starting to figure out why this place was called The Den.

It was a drug den, sure. That too. But it was more than that. It was a place to get away and be animals. It was about letting loose. I found the thought a touch hypocritical considering the racial segregation of Mantle and Atlas.

It was a touch quieter on the second floor and there were couches and balconies strewn about. One such couch with the red velvet covering had a gold haired man sitting on it. He peeked over glasses to reveal golden amber eyes. He was surrounded by security guards in that same black shirt and jeans uniform. He was also wearing a golden suit that I thought was tacky and flashed in the light.

I stepped closer and someone put a gun in my face. I turned to look at him in shock. Not because I found the weapon threatening, but because of the precise opposite. He couldn't kill me with that water pistol.

I blew smoke right in the guards face. Nice, and long. He coughed and I laughed. I enjoyed my little high and it was still loud enough that I couldn't hear my own madness. The whisperings of Mother were drowned out by the sheer volume. I picked at a bug in my ear, though, you couldn't have everything.

The golden haired man waved an arm and the pistol was removed from my grill. The man holding it looked away and rubbed his eyes from the smoke.

I walked up to the man on the couch and pocketed my pipe.

"Aurum?" I asked. The name was probably fake. I knew that. His hair might even be dyed. The suit was a bit hard on the eyes too. But if you were going to call yourself Aurum then you better work for it.

"You know my name but I don't know yours." He pointed to the side of the couch, offering me a seat. I took it and he started pouring three amber shots for himself, Neo, and I.

"I'm Cloud Strife."

"I've never heard of you."

"No one has."

"I know her, though, you're working with Neapolitan. Are you perhaps her new handler? I was wondering what would happen with Roman dead. You seem to fit the bill."

"Maybe a little." I let him read into that as much as he wanted. Neo moved like she was going to sit on my lap but I blocked her to the side, placing her next to me. She sat down on the far side of the wide couch of Aurum from me.

I turned back to Aurum.

"What can I do for someone like you?"

"I'm looking for information on General Ironwood. I want to know the facilities he and his friends visit nearly every day."

He poured himself another shallow shot on the table in front of him.

I took mine. It tasted like oranges and was smooth and rich. It hit the back of my throat like a golf swing.

"The general doesn't have friends, by the by. That's a free-bee."

"Even still."

"I hope you can pay for information like that."

"I can. For every facility he and his associates visit everyday I'll pay you ten grand."

"Oh is that all." His voice came out low under the beat of the music.

"There's extra in it for you if it only started since Black-Out day."

"Well that is interesting," he purred.

"Something catch your attention?"

"Maybe a little," he shot back. Throwing my own words in my face as he did. "There's Winter Schnee."

"Winter Schnee…?"

"Special Operative Winter Schnee. She works closely with General Ironwood. "

"Oh?"

"She visits this special bunker nearly every day. Since Black-Out day no less."

“I can pay you two-hundred grand for the name of that facility and the details on it.”

Aurum took his second shot and poured me and Neo another. “Now we’re talkin’,” he growled. “What if I don’t need your money, though.”

“What? Do you need people killed?”

“People, plural,” he laughed out in a rich baritone. “I like you. No wonder you’ve managed to capture Neapolitan. You’re violent.”

“Well we are all products of our upbringing.”

“I don’t need people killed but I could use Neapolitan’s skills.”

“What for?”

“A little job. You see some of my men got locked up by Atlas Security."

"Sounds unfortunate."

"They're going to be sentenced to forced labor down in the mines."

Why wasn't I surprised that that was how Atlas dealt with its criminals. You just chuck the dissidents and anyone you can arrest down in the mines and you got yourself a slave labor force.

Gross.

And typical of Atlas. Nobody cares what happened to prisoners. I bet the prison system was for-profit here, even. Anything to make a buck in Atlas. The more the place tried to have redeeming qualities the more I hated it.

I listened to a brief pause in the wump, wump, wump of the music.

"You need us to bust them out."

"I need her. I don't need you beyond that."

"We'll see. I'll need the details. What's security look like? When's the transfer?"

"In two days. They're being held in an Atlas police station. Security is tight. That's why I could use Neapolitan's help."

"Their names?"

"A boy named Obsidian. And another called Cobalt." He summoned photos of a dark haired kid with dark eyes. There was another frame which held the blue haired boy with pale eyes.

"We do this for you and those facility details are ours. Everything I asked for."

He held out a hand for me to shake. "It's a deal. What do you say?"

I shook on it and he grinned golden teeth at me.

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I didn't trust Aurum. I thought he'd double cross me given the opportunity. I didn't have any real safeguards against him doing it beyond the threat of myself and Neo. Which if he knew who she was it was a pretty big threat. If he knew who I was it would be even bigger.

I think that's how shit worked up here. There was as much backstabbing as could be managed. Even still I had little choice but to help him and deal with the consequences later. If he tired to cross me I'd just kill him and torture him and not in that order.

The operation was going to be a simple one. We knew when and where they were going to be transferred on the gondola down to the lower city.

I was going to fly down, open the gondola like a tin can, and we were going to grab them.

Nice and easy. In and out. No questions asked.

We arrived at the station in Atlas and fought our way inside. It was on the under belly of Atlas and had some guards to it. I slammed one to the side with Crocea Mors and jumped-kicked another. I was way too fast for some simple guards to stop me. I was just far too strong, too.

"Stop right there!" Neo and I didn't listen to the guard.

We rushed Atlas Sec at the top of the gondola station and made our way down to where the gondola hung. We watched the car shuttle off with our prisoners in question inside. I could see more guards on board through the windows.

The station was all dark greys and blue lights. With a single tram line running down the middle where people could get on and off, it was lit by soft blue and white lights. It was manned by Atlas Security at the moment. I wasn't sure if this station was permanently owned by Atlas military forces or if this was a special occasion. Either way I was crashing their party.

I vaulted a security gate. With ease, my sprint turned into a hovering dash as I went over. I slammed a knee into a sentry's face. He went rolling down.

I grabbed one guard and slammed him against the ground. Then I hammered him into a wall. His armor shattered as I did.

I launched a high kick that brought down a third. It was going very well. Neo came hurtling alongside me and whipped her body weight around an Atlas Security agent's neck.

She teleported ahead of me and knocked another agent's gun upwards while I crossed the gap. I cut his gun in half and pulled the rifle butt out of his hands and smacked him in the head with it.

I swung my sword and knocked down the security officer before me. I kicked down another and punched the lights out of a third hard enough to shatter his helmet. Neo slowly choked out a last and we listened to the sound of communications failing between Atlas on the gondola and up here.

"Report! Soldier, report! What's happening up there?!"

I listened for a moment before I jumped up on the cable with an easy flip. I balanced for a moment and Neo reached out and grabbed a hold of me. I leaned forward and I flew down the cable on a pocket of air at the gondola car.

It took a few moments to reach it with the wind whistling past us in the clear Solitas sky. I felt and heard Neo hold on with bated breath.

I arrived on top of it and sliced into the metal with Crocea Mors as I flew and ripped into the roof so I could start to pull it off. I put the sword on my back as we dangled out over the open air above Mantle. I jammed a hand into the jagged slice I made in the metal and I peeled the metal back as I hovered with a casual strength. Glass shattered and fell down onto the lower city as I pulled the car apart.

Guards inside peppered me with fire but Neo teleported off my back and into the gondola. She jumped around inside bringing down the guards with grace and ease. She swung her weight around and slammed one into the jagged glass where a window used to be. She flipped and shoved another into a twisted bar of metal from where I ripped the roof off.

She jumped up with her umbrella and teleported first Obsidian out to me who I grabbed. Then the other. I reversed my momentum, I was tractionless for a moment as I reversed directions and began to fly back up the thick cable of twisted metal wires. I rode up on the gondola cable and flew back up to the top where we'd already disabled Atlas security.

I watched Neo jump out of the car and begin her descent down with her parasol. We'd meet up later easily enough back at the motel.

I carried the two guys, one in each arm all the way back up to the top of the tram station. I held them by their handcuffs and it was easy enough to glide along the cable back to the station.

We made it look simple, too. No casualties, even. Probably. None up here but I could make no promises about what happened in the car. Neo hadn't exactly been gentle from what I heard once she got inside.

I set the two guys down and flipped to a landing in the grey gondola station. The members of Atlas Security we already disabled were still down.

"Well you're off then." I shattered their restraints with my sword and set them loose.

"What, wait! Who are you?" The black haired kid asked. I called him a kid but he was probably about the same age as me.

"I'm Cloud Strife. Run to your boss and tell him our business is done on my side. Go! Before more security shows up."

I kicked a rousing Atlas Security agent in the head and went back down with a muted grunt.

They bolted and I looked out of the station at the distant form of Neo.

I didn't need to fight my way out. I just charged Limit and jumped off the side of the station.

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

#neo #neapolitan #jaune arc #cloud strife #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!Jaune arc #war of the roses #lancaster #white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee #motion sickness #rwby #ffvii #ff7

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sinofwriting · 4 years

Text

Peace - Rob Benedict (Part One)

Summary: It took one Convention for Amelia Ackles to really strike up a friendship with Rob Benedict. It took many more for it to grow into something else.

Warning(s): Age Difference! (Nothing underage, everyone is legal and consenting)

Series Masterlist

“Hey, buttercup.” Misha greets, exiting the crowded house to join the troubled girl sitting on the porch.

She smiles at him for a second, before her gaze returns to looking out at the backyard. “Hey, Mish.” Her quiet voice makes Misha frown, sitting next to her.

“You love these things, I’m surprised you aren’t in there.”

“So do you and I just needed a minute.”

He doesn’t point out that she’s been out here for nearly an hour.

“You want to talk about it?”

She hesitates before shaking her head. “I’ll be okay, I just needed time to think.”

“About?” He tries, wondering what’s bothering the girl that’s like a niece to him.

Amelia laughs, “nice try.”

“C’mon, baby Ackles. If it's bad enough for you to be stepping out of a party, you know you need to talk about it.”

She laughs again, but doesn’t deny it. Looking towards the closed sliding door, she sighs. “My dad isn’t going to be happy with me, pretty soon.”

“Going to be? That’s interesting.” Misha can’t think of a single time Jensen had been mad at his eldest daughter for the decade he’s known him.

“I think,” she stops, “I know that I’m in love with someone, but he wouldn’t approve.” Her words come out slow and quiet and it becomes clear that he’s the only person she’s told.

He turns to face the twenty five year old. “What’s going on, Amelia?”

She winces at the sound of her name, it was unusual for Misha to not call her some silly nickname that usually embarrassed her. “I started seeing someone a while ago.” When his eyebrows raise, she gives in to his silent request. “Eight months ago, I started seeing someone eight months ago.”

“And you don’t think your dad will approve?”

“I know he won’t.” The conviction in her voice, startles him.

“Why? Are they hurting you? Is it because you kept it a secret for so long that he won’t approve?”

“No, he’s never hurt me. And it’s not the secret thing, though that probably won’t help.” She admits, wondering for the not the first time if coming clean months ago would have made this easier.

“What is it then?” Misha asks, unable to think of anything that would make Jensen mad.

“He’s older than me. And I don’t mean like a few years older than me.”

“Oh.” Is the only word that comes to mind and the only one he’s able to say. He hadn’t expected that. Amelia had only from what he knew ever been interested in people her own age. “How much older?” He hopes it's a decade, he thinks that as a father with a daughter, if she came home with someone a decade older he could be okay with it.

“Twenty-four years older.”

He can’t register the words, and asks her to repeat herself. When it does, he doesn’t know what to say. “Amelia,”

“I know.”

He shakes his head at her tone. “Listen, that’s a lot,” Misha can’t believe for a second he’s doing this, advocating for this. But he remembers her saying she knew she was in love with this man. “But if he makes you happy, treats you right, your dad will be okay. Not immediately but eventually. It’ll take a while to get used to, but he’ll be okay.”

He’s not surprised when the girl hugs him, in thanks. Separating they both continue to sit there, not saying anything until Misha nudges her.

“So, it’s serious then?”

He watches as a smile spreads across her face, and despite the fact he barely is okay with it, he knows he’ll go up to bat for the girl if needed. If this guy whoever he was could make her smile like that just at the slightest mention, he was worth it. “Yeah, it’s serious.”

“You want to tell me about him? Or is it too weird to do girl talk with me?”

She laughs, “do you not remember me coming to you when I got asked out for my first date. I’ve always come to you for girl talk.”

Misha laughs with her, knowing just how true that was. When he joined the show it was the first season that Amelia was finally allowed to live with Jensen whenever she wanted. With them both being the newbies on set they had bonded. It had also earned him some points when he offered to look after her when Jensen’s shoots ran too long he didn’t feel comfortable with his fifteen year old staying at home alone.

“So?”

“He’s really sweet and funny.” That smile is back on her face. “I mean, I’ve never met someone who can make me laugh so much and we took this real slow. We’ve probably been together for more like a year and a half, but we didn’t really get together until eight months ago. “

“Is he going to be worth it?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I will be.”

His head snaps up at that from where it had dropped to look at his shoes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dad knows him, you know him. If you asked me about this a month ago, I would have never said anything to you.”

Misha’s mind whirls with the information handed to him. He knew this man, more importantly Jensen knew this man. He thinks back to a month ago, trying to figure out what was happening then before thinking of what they’re doing tonight. Filming was going on a month ago. The reason for the party tonight was because they had finally finished doing reshoots for the first half of the season.

“He’s on the cast.” Misha repeats himself, starting to laugh. “Oh my god, he’s on the cast. Your dad is going to kick himself.”

She nudges him, trying not to laugh with him. When he only laughs harder, she isn’t able to stop herself from joining in. The two gasping for breath after a few minutes.

“Holy shit that felt good.” Amelia laughs, sitting up straight.

He smiles, another laugh leaving him. “Definitely needed that.” When the laughter stops, he’s unable to stop himself from asking, “Who is it?” He glances at the door, making sure it’s still shut and no ones near it.

“Rob, it’s Rob.”

Misha looks at her, surprised. “My Rob?”

“No.” She laughs, “well yea, but he’s my Rob now.”

He makes a face thinking it over, “you could do a lot worse. Plus sides are he’s got no kids. Was only married for like three years and that was in the nineties so it doesn’t count. Yeah, you could do a lot worse.”

“Could do? I’ve done a lot worse.”

“Yeah, the less we say about the last one the better.”

She winces at that, “I was thinking of Alex, not the train wreck.”

“Your telling me Alex wasn’t a train wreck?”

“Alex was hell in a handbasket.”

Misha laughs at the phrase, “funny, considering how that went down.”

She groans at the reminder, “I didn’t even think about that. I still can’t look at those stupid things the same way.”

He pats her on the shoulder, “don’t worry, we all can’t think of those the same way.”

“Now, before we get interrupted, how did this happen? You and Rob? I mean I don’t even think I’ve seen you guys talk.”

She’s about to answer, when the door opens and Rob pokes his head out, smiling at the two. “Jensen’s looking for you both. Something about how you both would be on his side and not Jared’s over a bathtub?”

Misha groans, “Not that damn bathtub.” Getting up, Rob moves aside so he can go in, leaving the couple outside, away from the chaos.

#rob benedict imagine #rob benedict x reader #spn cast imagine #jensen ackles imagine #peace universe

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margarett · 3 years

Text

I am wondering what the hell is wrong with this fandom

Yeah, I am Destiel shipper, I love Misha, Jensen, Jared and whole cast

Today I read some hate on actors, I didn't even know there were some

Hate on Jensen, that he is homophobic ? What the hell ... If somebody is straight a tell you all those years that his character is straight too ... well there must be something on it. He supports LGBTQ+ community so why hate ? Why ? He didn't do anything wrong.

Hate on Misha, jesus i know there was some but this much ? I see him as a kind and nice person ... And now I read that he what ? sexualized his children ? is bad co-worker ? gish and random acts are fraud ? wtf ? His character supposed to be on the show for like 5 episodes ? Show where family matters ? I think if he is a bad person he wouldn't last that long on the show ... And I think if Jensen doesn't like him, he wouldn't do the "goodbyes" between characters so much intensive and he wouldn't record it, so he can keep it and remembered it as also goodbyes between him and Misha.

Now ...

What's wrong with the some poeple from our fandom ... This show is about family and love and you can find threatens for kidnapping j2 and their children, suicides,hurting them, some people who only like dean when henis bloody and hopind for his death ....

I definetely was happier before I accidentaly read all this stuff

If somebody doesn't like some episode - Ok

If somebody doesn't like whole show - Ok

If somebody doesn't like some actors/character - Ok

But why so much hate ?

It's only fictional world with fictional characters. Yeah, after all those years it's part of us and no one can't take it from us ... But it's not real ... Real are the actors who were trying to do their best job to keep us to love the show, keep us fighting with any struggles we are going through, the show help many people, never give up, going through hard times ...

I am so sad

I thought it doesn't matter who likes which ship, character, actor, but that we are all in this together ... like family.

And as a deancas shipper i would like to say - yeah i read fanfics, watch on yt fanvid, fanart, gifs ... But I would NEVER be angry with poeple who aren't fan of destiel, never ask cast and crew for their opinion on this (there is lot of this on yt), never make uncomfortable the cast with weird request for photos like the Jensen kiss Misha ... why ? (I have nothing on cockles ? but only if its on fanfic webs, fanvids why not, post/gifs on ig? tumblr? ok ... but why bothering the real people ... We know they have wifes and kids ... if its between us I think its ok, everybody can read/watch what they want ... But ask this Mish?Jen? No!)

And it's not only this fandom ... in every fandom we can find fanatics who probably thinks it's all real or idk ...

And not only fandoms ... look at "attacks" on singers on their concerts, inappropriate touching, kissing ... Celebrities are not public property and your hugging/kissing toy ...

Behave please

Treat them the way you want them to treat you, not like a piece of meat ❤️

Thank you all

I hope it makes sense 🤣

#nohate #love #family

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readysetstarker · 4 years

Note

Hmm... Tony's thoughts upon learning that Peter had a building dropped on him and subsequent comfort?

warnings: mentions of PTSD, peter is 19. Family-friendly angst and fluff is the name of the game today, y’all. Ignores FFH and the ending of Endgame.

—

Peter let it slip during a chill night together in the compound.

Drinks were flowing, and Tony figured that if Peter was old enough to join the Avengers, he was old enough to have a drink. The kid risked his life every time he went into the fray. He had sat back and shrugged his shoulders when Natasha threw together a very simple, but very strong, cocktail together for him. He only warned Peter about drinking too much and waking up with a hangover and sipped at his own glass of bourbon.

It started with Natasha, mentioning a scar on her hip. “No more bikinis for me,” she said with a fake pout. She followed it with a shrug and another sip of her wine. “I think I’ll get over it.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” Rhodey teased from behind his beer bottle. “You ever fall several hundred feet and shatter your spine? I gotta walk using this asshole’s stupid tech, now. Can’t get away from him.”

Laughter floated through the room when Tony gave Rhodey a faux-offended look, complete with a hand on his chest.

Peter chuckled from where he sat nearly in Tony’s lap, legs lying across his thighs, sipping on his second rum and vanilla Coke for the night. His cheeks were a pleasant shade of pink, and Tony had made him swear off booze for the rest of the night after that one. Water only.

Tony gave his calf a gentle squeeze through the black sweatpants.

“You’re laughing, Peter, but just wait until you have your own baggage,” Clint warned from across the room, his own spider perched neatly in his lap. Unlike Peter, Natasha was curled up completely and comfortably between Clint’s crossed legs and reclined against his chest.

“You think I don’t have my own set of nightmares?” Peter challenged. He looked at Clint and didn’t break eye contact. “Being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man hasn’t been a walk in the park.”

“Yeah? What, did someone stab you in the ribs with a pocket knife or something?” Rhodey gave Peter’s foot a playful slap.

“He dropped a warehouse on top of me, actually.”

The teasing died, looks of confusion and partial horror dawning on the faces of the others while Peter sipped idly at his drink. He didn’t seem bothered by his own revelation at all, and Tony wasn’t sure if that made it worse. His fingers curled, gently squeezing Peter’s leg.

“Did you,” Sam started from the other end of the couch. He had previously been lying back with his feet on Tony’s coffee table, but not he was sitting up and alert. “Did you just say that you had a warehouse dropped on you? Like, a whole building?”

“Yeah.” Peter propped his glass in his lap and traced the rim with the tip of his finger. “Um, Adrian Toomes. First ‘real’ bad guy I fought. I skipped Homecoming to stop him, and he dropped a warehouse on top of me.”

Tony felt his heart jump in his chest. Adrian Toomes was years ago, when Peter was still in high school, when he was fifteen goddamn years old. He had barely had the Spider-Man moniker for a year before he had someone try to squash him like one. And during his homeco—

Tony’s stomach rolled with nausea. Shit. Shit.

“I took the suit away from you,” Tony suddenly piped up, all eyes focusing on him now. Peter glanced up at him from underneath his lashes. “Pete, that was— I took the suit away from you, and you had a fucking warehouse dropped on you? How the hell are you still alive?”

“I got out.” Peter blinked and gave him a grin. “Super-strength, remember? It hurt like hell, though, and now I’m really uncomfortable in tight spaces.”

The room remained silent, eyes glancing between Peter’s casual nonchalance and Tony’s personal horror. Peter took a few heavy gulps of his drink and smirked in Rhodey’s direction, his cocky expression going unmatched. “Not as bad as having your spine shattered, I guess. But it comes close, right?”

Rhodey scoffed, turning his beer bottle up and draining what was left in it. “Yeah, kid. It comes close.”

—

“Fri, bring up the schematics we have on Peter’s suit, please,” Tony ordered, doors to his lab hissing shut behind him. He was still buzzed from the party, alcohol swimming warmly through his blood as he brought his lab to life and set up a projection of Peter’s suit blueprints.

The original, given to him in Berlin. It had been changed, altered, and updated with the kid’s growing, both physically and as a hero. Extra web-settings were added, extra additions to help him while swinging and flying through the air, constant updates to his AI. Of all things, why didn’t he think of reinforcing the material it was made of? Sure, the kid had the beta-testing Iron Spider suit to play around with, but it wasn’t combat-ready just yet, and there was still code to write for a completely revamped AI within it.

Tony walked around the projection, inspecting his notes on the material of the suit. It was made to last through general wear and tear, wouldn’t wear down from chafing, was fire and heat resistant, but it couldn’t protect the wearer from however many tons of concrete and steel falling on top of them. The thought that a metal cable could have impaled and killed Peter made his heart skip, his blood run cold.

Tony’s suit, as advanced as it was, wouldn’t have been able to protect him from that.

Which made it worse knowing that he had gone after Toomes in that flimsy mish-mashed little tracksuit Tony had seen in his Youtube videos. If Tony’s suit couldn’t protect him, what chance did he have in that?

The thought of it sent guilt pooling low in his gut.

Before he could set to work, a quiet voice broke through his thought with a sweet murmur of his name. “Tony? Are you still up?”

Tony turned around to the lab entrance; he hadn’t heard the doors open. There stood Peter, tight tank top and black sweatpants, rubbing at his eyes with the inside of his palm. His hair was mussed and sleep-tangled. Tony had put him into bed after he passed out on the couch, alcohol and the late hours lulling him into sleep.

He smiled at the sight of his young boyfriend tiredly padding his way across the lab, eyes squinting to look at the hologram between them.

“Yeah, go back to bed, baby,” Tony said softly, moving through the projection to kiss Peter’s forehead. “I’m just getting a little work done. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Peter frowned at his dismissal; he still smelled a little like alcohol, and Tony figured he was still feeling the effects of the booze he had drunk earlier. Peter peeked around his shoulder to the schematics, eyes squinting and brow furrowing when he finally set eyes on the spider-shaped crest. He pulled away from Tony. His eyes didn’t leave the hologram.

“Is that my suit?” he asked. “Are you updating it again?”

Tony sighed, arms wrapping around Peter’s shoulders. He bent to kiss the nest of brown curls.

“Yeah. I’m looking into reinforcing the material, making it more like armor until I can make the Iron suit more stable, finish its coding, maybe choose a better color scheme than red and blue.” That earned him a laugh. “I want it to protect the person wearing it from, you know, bullets, fire, an entire building collapsing on top of him.”

Peter went stiff in his arms. He tried to turn, but Tony tightened his grip and hid his face in Peter’s hair, kissing him again.

“Tony,” Peter started. Tony recognized the tone of his voice; disapproving, worried. “You know I survived, right?”

“That doesn’t erase the fact that I left you without a suit, on your own, only for some asshole with alien tech he shouldn’t have had to drop an entire building on you. And you never said a thing about it,” Tony added. “You’ve been carrying that shit since you were fifteen, kid. And who knows what else you’ve been dealing with.”

“I’m fine, Tony.”

“You’re fine?” Tony released him, Peter turning in his arms to look up at him with his eyes and jaw set hard. Tony shook his head. “Peter, I know you’re still dealing with it. You have nightmares, you refuse to ride in the quinjet for more than an hour, and I distinctly remember the time you kicked me through a wall when I tried to fuck you from behind.”

“Nice wording, Tones.”

“Peter, I’m being serious.” Tony put his hands on Peter’s shoulders, squeezing, praying that Peter could see his concern. “You could have died. You could have died, and it would have been my fault because you didn’t have any protection, and that’s something you need to process.”

Peter scoffed, pulling himself away from Tony. “Not processing it?” Peter repeated. His brow pinched together in a glare. “I’ve processed it. I live with it! I still have dreams about it, and I wake up expecting to still be under that rubble when I open my eyes. I’ve had days, weeks, where I think all of this is a dream or a hallucination that I’m having while I’m slowly being crushed to death.”

Peter’s voice quivered when a hot tear dripped down his cheek, and he hastily brushed it away. “That was the first time as Spider-Man that I thought I was going to die. And yeah, I was fifteen! But that has nothing to do with you. I made that decision! It’s not your burden to bear, Tony!”

A hiccup stopped his anger, catching his voice in his throat. Peter wiped away more tears, ducking his head in the wake of Tony’s shock.

“‘M sorry,” he finally mumbled, voice thick. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

He didn’t fight when Tony reached for him, wrapped him in his arms, and pulled him close. He tucked his cheek into Tony’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling Tony’s fingers gently pet and cradle his head.

“It’s okay,” Tony said, and he tightened his hold on him. “It’s okay, you needed to get that out.” Peter closed his eyes at the feeling of Tony’s lips pressing into his hair.

“Not,” Peter swallowed, “not like that, I didn’t.”

“Maybe you did.” Tony pulled away to brush tears from Peter’s cheeks. “I’m sorry for making accusations. But the dissociation… Peter, you need to see a professional.”

“I know.”

“I’ll go with you, or stop prying, or do whatever you need.” Tony pressed a kiss to his wet cheek. “And please let me do something to your suit. I want to make sure you’re protected or able to blast away rubble. If for nothing else than my own peace of mind.”

Peter smiled, sniffled, and tucked his head against Tony’s chest again. “Fine. But I like my color scheme. Leave it alone.”

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #my work #hey look at that! two prompts in one day #i'm trying to clear out my inbox in preparation for a follower milestone #couldntbedamned

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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years

Note

[part 1/2]

Hi, I’ve fallen in the cockles dumpster years ago and I don’t know how to reach the surface anymore.

we can say I’m a newbie on your inbox and I just thought we could all tinhat a little bit about one of the things that sold me on cockles to be a real thing: honcon 2017.

Here’s the list of things I can’t find a platonic heterosexual explanation for:

(Funny but useless foreword, a few days before the con a fan tweeted a photo of a rainbow she saw when her flight land in honolulu and said she took it as a sign that was gonna be a gay weekend, and man she was right lol)

1- Misha flew to a hawaii on thursday just like all the other guests who were supposed to be at the con way before J2 did.

We know j2 stopped shooting the same day/the day after because on friday Jensen was spotted by a fan on a plane to honolulu even tho he was expected to be there on sunday.

while Jared preferred spending that bit of free time at home. (Gen posted a few instagram stories of jared and the kids in Texas.) Jensen went straight to misha instead.

Even tho at the previous con j2 talked about how the following weeks were going to be full of work commitments and between work and cons so close to one another they couldn’t see the families as much.

I’m not saying Jensen didn’t miss his wife and kid. He loves them and clearly meant it when he said he missed them so much. That’s why it was surprising seeing him join misha so early. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say it was a planned trip to spend time together.

2- I think it’s positive to say he was there early for Misha and only misha since that night a fan took a picture with them at an hotel bar. She posted it on instagram and said it was just the two of them, then she had to put the account on private since too many people were asking questions.

It’s strange how we only got one photo of that night tho, they’re always super nice with fans when being approached and usually after the first brave soul finds the courage to ask everyone else follow through.

Again I think they clearly wanted to be alone that night. No fans no castmates.

Maybe they were celebrating something?

3- Then the panel happened.

We all remember Jensen showing us how bad his kink for misha’s weird accents have gotten, how cheerful and at ease they were on stage.

Even I could feel the love was in the air and I live on the other side of the ocean!

welcome to the dumpster, nonnie! i love all of this a lot. i *just* got your part two and i am putting it and my reaction under the cut!!

[part 2/2]

4 - Jensen also bought matching shirts for his friends. One black shirt for him and an identical one for his bro. But misha’s was red cause he knows him well enough to notice he never wears black shirts.

I mean Jensen has a history of showing affection through gifts, (I have a few examples on my mind but no time to write it all down now)

That was a nice thing to do.

5- Least but not last

THE DINNER STORY.

I don’t care if it’s been years I’m still not over how sweet that moment was.

The question was an easy generic one, It took misha less than two minutes to answer.

But then mr. 10 years. same bar, same table. same company. grabs the microphone and procede to share with us one the sweetest memory of Misha he got.

I mean it was so unexpected. Unlike Jared and Misha he’s careful about what he think is appropriate and what’s not.

In my mind it sounded like: “Listen I know it doesn’t answer your question but I’ve just spent a good weekend with this person right here, that I clearly love and care for, and I’m feeling soft, so let me tell you about how I realized I was whipped on him since our very first date”

Again I find it curious Jensen was reminiscing about how they first got together on that particular weekend.

The same one he decided to join misha early just to be with him.

That was one of the moments I realized there’s no way this is a platonic relationship.

Ok this turned out way longer than I expected.

I clearly miss jenmish so much I can’t stop blabber about them.

I’m sorry

Polaroid anon

first of all: don’t be sorry, i truly loved this because i felt like i was seeing the panel again in my minds eye while i was reading your message.

second of all: you are absolutely right about everything except for calling misha’s shirt red. it was orange, which is misha’s favorite color, which makes it even more special that jensen got that one for him.

i also think that jensen went there early just for mish, which is just. a lot. it reminds me of another con, where jensen could have gone home already but he waited for misha who had to do something else there the next day, and then two days later they were spotted together i think at the airport.

i 100% agree that the fact that jensen shared that story about one of their first dinners is very special and rare. especially because in the past, whenever somebody wanted to hear a story from them, they both never knew what to share (probably because of lot of their stories are not suitable to share tbh) and to me it almost felt like he really thought about what he could share and what he would feel comfortable with, after all those times where he just went ‘shit idk what to say’.

and what he shared just felt so romantic? like. the look on misha’s face when jensen was talking was also so soft, he was clearly thinking back on that moment. a moment they both remembered all those years later. i mean at that point they had known each other for nearly 10 years and they still remembered that one particular night. it made an impression on both of them. it was a date. and then to top it off jensen added that he thought to himself ‘but i think i love him a little bit more too’. wow.

see, no need to apologize for talking a lot, as i clearly do the same sjfhshf.

#anonymous #honcon was absolutely insane and we do not talk about it enough #polaroid anon

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writing-frenzy · 5 years

Text

Mobbing Around: CucumberPlane AU~

yup, here I am again, back with my AU’s~ This time for one of my favorite pairings of Scum Villain CucumberPlane (I just love this disaster duo)

Here is first thing first; Shen Yuan and Airplane are not Shen Qingqiu or Shang Qinghua respectively.

But the both do have relations to both in certain ways-

Shen Yuan was transmigrated in this world into the body of a dying Shen Yi, the first of the street kids in Yue Qi and Shen Jiu’s group. He was the one who taught Yue Qi all his survival tips and in the beginnings of Shen Jiu’s life was the one who would sing nightmares away and provide a hug when needed. It’s also thanks to Shen Yi that the two have more power in the arsenal, because of course you know the minute Shen Yuan knew this was a cultivation world, he tried and see everything that would work in cultivating (which was surprisingly a lot, thanks to how PIDW is set up, his mish-mash of styles were perfect.) It’s like this for a few years, these years on the streets hardening Shen Yi in a way, the world undeniably real to him in every pain he feels, the grief that hits him, and even in the little pleasures he finds day by day... But of course it doesn’t last... After all, the extra’s did mention that Yue Qi and Xiao Jiu were the last of their group for a reason. It happens when a group of slave traders come through town, making nice with the lord there, showing off their pretties and then getting out with their pay... but with so little stock left, they of course of to bulk it up before they leave.

And who would miss a few kids from the streets? (Shen Yi did what he could, buying time to make sure the others would at least get away, unknowing that he himself would be the price paid to buy those precious seconds)

Now for Airplane, who was born one Shang Huanmu (hopefully means Pleased Desire but if not i’m blaming PIDW’s naming sense) Who is one of the numerous half-brothers of this world’s future Shang Qinghua. Shang Huanmu was a child that should have died in the womb, but thanks to transmigration, he in the end lives! Airplane’s father can be thought of as the Jin Guangshan of Scum Villain, a power hungry womanizer who only thinks of himself and the pleasures in life, just this one is actually able to legally have more wives. Now, if Airplane had been born as Shang Qinghua, as one of the sons of the Legal First Wife, he wouldn’t have to concern himself with harem politics and treachery, especially after his mother ensured he could escape it permanently by giving him the chance to be a big renown sect’s disciple... But like I said, Shang Huanmu does not have that safety net. He and his mother are stuck deep in the poisonous words dipped in rouge and perfume, where one wrong word, where one misstep, where one simple look could get them flogged, booted out of the clan, or even death if they are not careful.

Airplane gets a very different second childhood (but with a mother, a parent who actually loves and supports him, despite all his eccentrics and quirks? It goes a long way for his shallow heart). (EDIT: found out Huanmu can also mean 360 degree cinema screen, which only makes me want to keep it even more.)

Now, can you guess how they meet? :3 The head of the Shang Household decides they need more sex slaves hmm, ehem, I mean servants, of course, look, there are even a few boys here even! (not to say just how many woman there are) Shen Yi Just happens to be one of these poor souls stuck here. For a while, he just gets shuffled around for a time, no set place yet as he is still new and they’re not sure what to do with him yet.

Until one day, Shen Yi gains the favor of one of the many wives, her son one day seeming to favor him, so thus making him their personal servant.

(I’m thinking Airplane hears Shen Yuan singing a fan song under his breath, joins in with him, and suddenly both are like ‘I’m not alone’)

Now that that is set up, here are a few other things to note-

Mama Shang is a certified bad ass who loves her babies (yes, Shen Yuan is her baby now) and will fuck up anyone who thinks of hurting them (how else do you think they’ve survived for so long? and give me more awesome woman in SV!!)

In public, Shen Yi is the dutiful, grateful servant while Shang Huanmu is the careless weird master (in private they are just disaster best friends, with Shen Yuan being the huffy commanding one.)

Both boys learn degrees of her badassery, Shang Huanmu going more mental manipulative route with plenty of tricks and traps, while Shen Yi takes the fighting approach with the mental strategist route. This also gives the public a more Master-Bodyguard servant relationship to view...

Shen Yuan and Airplane find out in mid-early of their friendship who they were in a past life, but seeing as neither know they are in PIDW, Shen Yuan just bitches at him occasionally about it, even teasing him as well.

The reason why they don’t know is because they are much more focused on surviving their environment around them, the sects that are mentioned are the ones either a) close by to the Shang Family or b) something more ‘fitting’ for their stations in life. (besides, a lot of stories have similar names for clans, I know about two that have a Jiang clan. not to mention Jin clan and others)

So yeah, Cucumber-bro and Airplane-bro grow up close, bitch and complaining, and crying to each other (laughing and smiling and clinging tight in the night, worried an assassin would be right there to take one of them away.)

Both men are mentally older, wearier, and jaded here, both seek comfort in the other, both trust each other greatly... but both are still as dense as rocks when it comes to the realization that they have been in love with each other for years now.

(Shen Yuan has no idea why he wants to vomit everytime he hears about possible marriage matches for Airplane; probably just the thought of someone actually marrying him that gets him, even if he isn’t that bad to look at...)

(Airplane smiles like normal, but his eyes are like they were made of ice the moment someone offers to buy/take Shen Yi off his hands; no way is someone going to take his bro from him, even as the thought of separating from Shen Yuan fills his soul with a chilling fear. Probably just the thought of what could happen to his friend getting to him, what with how pretty the other is...)

If there is a system in this world, I want it to be as ridiculous as possible; Like, the Good Deed System, where you have to perform good deeds from simple ones to world saving quests, or even a Side Quest System, a system that makes sure that those little details actually get met. Maybe even a Karma System, where what comes around goes around and all that (basically, I want these two boys to be in the dark about where they actually are for as long as possible :D But Systems are so much fun to mess with~)

Now, this AU can actually Branch out:

In number one, Mama Shang sees an opportunity for her boys, since the first wife is sending one of her sons to the prestigious Cang Qiong Moutain Sect, she joins in with a group of other wives to try and get their own children sent, which the Shang Head allows, because hey, if more of his blood get in, more face for his family! This is when both boys find out that they are in PIDW, which makes Shen Yi glare at one certain shrinking author, who pales at all the realizations. But this is their best chance at a new life, to become cultivators and escape their harsh family and all it’s tricks and traps. Both of them take the digging holes seriously (even as Shen Yuan bitches about it to Airplane all the while) because again, best shot they have. And to their relief, they even manage to get in!... at different peaks that is... (why yes, I noticed that certain Peaks don’t have Peak Lords :) shame they have no named Lords at all... :) oh, how could this ever be fixed?)

In this number we have these two boys and their mother leave the family (how they do so is unclear for now), learning under a random, maybe renown cultivator and Mama Shang, who become rouge cultivators themselves, their own ideas helping to improve and create entirely new paths of cultivation. In this path, they will eventually find out what world they are eventually, but decide to just stay as rouges here, with adventure and mystery all around them, making allies and accidently derailing canon all along the way as they do so :3 (it would be such a sweet freedom for these two disasters to enjoy, and with Mama Shang with them to be badass as well.)

Now, this one kinda branches off from number 2 in an interesting way :D You see, both these disasters have a great charisma, just aimed in different ways that could get many different types of people. They also, have different moral systems, things that would get people all around them, while Shang Huanmu and Shen Yi really couldn’t care less or have different takes on, despite all the years they have lived in this world. They end up getting... a lot of followers, people who would love to either be a disciple, little brother/sister, even servant at times... Slowly, ever so sudden, there is a big group of rouge cultivators at night hunts, Airplane figuring out the best way to settle supplies and money, while Shen Yuan easily makes nice with all these people, or if needed threaten them harshly. Soon, the two find themselves in a situation of; the only reason we aren’t a sect is that we haven’t gotten a place to settle down/Emperor’s approval...

Yeah, as you can see, I really like this idea XD

#Scum Villain #Scum Villain's Self Saving System #SVSS #CucumberPlane #Shang Qinghua #Shen Yuan #Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky

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