#And didn't actually watch it for the first time until

[avelera]

So apparently, Fortiche shared concept art where Jayce's Hexcorization in the cave would extend all the way to his face:

And this is really interesting to me from a narrative perspective, here's why:

Much of S2 Jayce's arc is incredibly... punitive. Like, he is really being punished step by step for everything he did wrong in S1. From Renni terrorizing and almost killing him for the death of her son, to Viktor leaving him "for another woman" (the Hexcore as represented by Sky) much like Jayce left him for politics as represented by Mel, there's really a sense of the narrative not only tearing Jayce down to his bare essentials (something that's very common for TV writing to do, by the way, it's very common that you want to see characters reduced down to who they are for their "long night of the soul" moment before they learn the lessons of what they really stand for before going into the climax armed with those lessons), but Jayce's time in the cave really goes even further than that and not only does S2 take away his political career, his Hextech ambitions, his state as someone able-bodied, much of his strength, and certain other gifts, it looks like in this draft they considered taking away his beauty too.

I think it would have been interesting either way if they had, but I want to dive into the narrative structure of action and punishment in Arcane, why Hexcorizing Jayce's face might have been a step too far and not really addressed a lesson he needed to learn, and my thoughts on punitive character arcs in general in Arcane (or lack thereof), specifically with regards to Jayce and Caitlyn.

I've mentioned elsewhere that I always found it interesting that much of the hate directed towards Jayce by the fans was for his perceived incompetence in difficult moments, rather than at how naturally gifted he seems to be at everything.

When I first watched S1 on my own, I thought Jayce was a bit unbearable because everything comes so easily to him (after Viktor becomes his partner and Hextech takes off as a result, that is). He is naturally beautiful, he's built like a god but doesn't appear to do any sort of exercise routine to maintain this other than working in the forge, he becomes the Man of Progress and rockstar of Piltover pretty much without trying, girls are literally sighing dreamily as he goes by.

He's also naturally a genius, from what we see, revolutionizing multiple industries with one invention. Even his rescue as a child is a literal miracle and it spurs him to create an invention that makes him a rockstar. When he enters politics, he immediately dominates, to the point where he's able to get a unanimous vote to overthrow the founder of the city within weeks of going there. Even in battle he's naturally gifted and naturally lucky during the raid of the Shimmer factory (up until the death of Renni's son), even though he has no prior skills as far as we know. He also wins the love of arguably the most beautiful woman in the series, again, seemingly without trying.

Then, S2 doesn't just take all of this away from him, it seems to go a step further into actually punishing Jayce for how easy and miraculous his life was in S1.

I'm of two minds about the Hexcorization reaching his face, but I have a hypothesis. I think it would have looked fucking rad but, I kinda get why they didn't do it:

Because Jayce's good looks are not something he can control, unlike the other things the narrative punishes him for.

Insofar as he can control his looks, he gives up on the clean-cut, immaculate "Golden Boy" image. Even in the idealized astral plane, he keeps most of the marks of his time in the pit like his hair and beard. I think it's because Jayce likes who he became down there. The clean-cut version of him was always the mask of him trying to please others, Jayce's appearance after he emerges from the cave is him shedding the opinions of others (contrast this with how Viktor idealizes himself in the astral plane, removing all marks of his illness. This isn't a criticism, just an interesting point of contrast).

So basically, my theory is Fortiche may have pulled back on Hexcorizing Jayce's face on the one hand to soften the visuals a bit, but secondly because it keeps the focus on punishing Jayce for things he chose to do, rather than things he doesn't really have control over.

But make no mistake, the narrative comes down hard on Jayce in S2, for every little thing the fans could and often did hate him for in S1. He pays for all of them, arguably in excess of what he maybe deserved, since as he says he didn't ask for any of this. But he did go along with it, and there's where the hammer of consequence (quite literally) comes down on him, tears away all his privileges, drags him down to literally the level of Viktor when he first left the undercity and says, "You have to do it all again but now focused on what really matters, and it's going to be ten times harder than it ever was."

This, in my opinion, is why Jayce is so popular coming out of S2. It is a hell of an arc, it's a hell of a redemption! You gave the man everything any man could want, then you took it all away, and then as his crowning moment of showing he has truly learned these lessons and made up for his mistakes, he makes possibly the most loving gesture possible, puts his weapons down, and reaches out to the person he loves most and literally sacrifices himself on the altar of his mistakes to make things right and show Viktor he is loved, and to protect Viktor from the horrifically lonely fate of his future self. It doesn't get any more noble, loving, or self-sacrificing than that.

Because more than we like to see a character punished we like to see them learn from their mistakes and come back better. Jayce's S2 nobility is earned, perhaps even to excess, no one can question whether he suffered enough to make up for what he did in S1 but even the most uncharitable read of him in S1, his biggest hater, would have to agree his time spent starving to death in agony, alone in that cave for months, has got to be just about the worst punishment a human can face and live.

Which is one reason I must add that I find it a little puzzling that Arcane's creators didn't predict the hate that Caitlyn would get in S2.

Keep in mind, because this is very important, the Arcane creators did not make S2 in response to fan reactions to S1. S2 was already in production and the script was locked in and done before anyone outside their organizations saw S1. So nothing that happens in S2 is as a result of fan response.

But, the creators did understand that Jayce was going to need to suffer narrative punishment for what he did in S1 in order to be redeemed, whether they predicted how hated he would be after S1, they did predict that redemption would be necessary. And boy-howdy, did they give him a hell of a redemption arc!

But Caitlyn's S2 actions are almost in lock-step similar to Jayce's S1 actions, being manipulated (by a Medarda!) into accepting power, but maybe not having a choice in the matter, but still maybe expanding that power on their own because it is useful in its own right. Caitlyn also makes terrible mistakes. A child doesn't die but people in the undercity do get hurt during her rage-fuled raids, even if most of them are mob bosses and their goons. The narrative asks, does that make it right? Caitlyn like Jayce hurts the person closest to her who is from the undercity and uses bigoted language against the people of the undercity to Vi's face in much the same way that Jayce did to Viktor on the bridge, though in Jayce's defense, he apologized immediately after.

So, seeing how hated Jayce was coming out of S1, to the point where there's still barely any merchandise of him, I'm shaking my head rather ruefully that there was so much merch made for Caitlyn this time around. And I get it! Caitlyn and Vi were very popular after S1, they are intentionally THE main romance of the show and it was a very popular romance coming out of the innocence of their meet cute in S1.

But it's a romance that dearly needed a longer third act if you wanted Caitlyn to be as embraced after her mistakes as Jayce was after making up for his all through S2. You need to give her as long or at least as in-depth of a redemption act with as much suffering and acknowledgment of her mistakes if you want Vi and Caitlyn at the end to get celebrated the way Jayce making it up to Viktor is, because as much as I understand the choice to focus on pacing instead of exposition, and I do think Caitlyn's apology and realization of her mistakes are there on the page more than people complain, I do also agree that it is a bit "blink and you'll miss it" even if it's there. Jayce got a whole episode of being thrown into the Torment Nexus for his mistakes, real or imagined, if you didn't like him or his choices, you definitely got the sadistic glee of watching life kick the stuffing out of him for what he did in S1.

But besides her fight with Ambessa, which was a result of a confluence of many events in the story, not just Caitlyn's mistakes, Caitlyn doesn't really suffer much for the mistakes she made to those she loves. Her losing an eye to Ambessa didn't happen because she said bigoted things to Vi or became a short-term puppet dictator of Piltover. It was a result of Ambessa's actions and maneuvering more than it was a result of Caitlyn's personal mistakes to her loved ones.

In contrast, Jayce's time in the pit gave him the chance to reflect on and suffer for the the mistakes he made that led to the Anomaly that led to him being down in this pit, and what he would do to make it up to his loved ones like Viktor when he returned. Caitlyn never got a moment like that and from what I'm seeing of the vitriol directed towards her, so similar to what Jayce got after S1, it seems like she really needed it if we were going to like her to the same extent again, in a way uncomplicated by lingering questions about whether she ever truly learned the lessons her character needed to learn to grow as a person.

And it's just funny to me that a narrative that was so aware that this whole huge punishment arc was needed to rehabilitate Jayce wasn't aware that we'd need one for Caitlyn too, at least if they're going to move all that merch they made for her (please give us Jayce merch, Riot, I'm begging).

[nativegirltapes]

⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ what happens when sweetheart!reader invites drew over after their recent movie together finally wraps . . .

pairing: sweetheart!reader x drew starkey

warnings/notes: smut but not much until the end. also new reader yay <3 hoping to get her moodboard out tmr 🎀 lmk your thoughts sexies

the tension between you and drew was undeniable, to the both of you and the rest of the world; your friends, his friends, and both your guys' fans. it's not like you guys tried to hide it though, you were both constantly staring at each other whenever in the same room, especially during interviews, or the way you would both subconsciously have your hands all over each other, or maybe the way you'd both find a way to bring each other up when the other wasn't around.

and now that the movie you both starred in was wrapped, you both felt some weight fall from your shoulders. drew didn't feel like much of a pervert since you weren't exactly his costar anymore. and you didn't feel like you had to suppress the way your body reacted every time he got too close to you.

you hated how much you liked him, he made your stomach do literal flips. the feeling was mutual though, drew adored you in a way he hadn't anyone else. "nice place you got." drew said as you showed him around your apartment. "thanks." you stopped when you made it to your bedroom, drew looked around, your bedroom making him realize how much he really didn't know about you. "so, this is where the lucky guys get to come huh?"

"guess so," you plopped on your bed, letting your dress ride up your thighs. you'd be lying if you said that you didn't have intentions of getting somewhere with drew tonight after inviting him over alone. and it would also be a lie if drew wasn't hoping that you had intentions tonight, because he definitely did.

"am i one of those lucky guys?" drew questioned as he sat next to you on your bed. "are you?" you questioned him back, flashing him a little smile. "can i be?"

you shot out of your bed, standing up in front of him. "don't know. can you?" you teased him. drew chuckled, you were playing hard to get and it surprised him. you were the shy type yes, but there was something playful and even a little daring about you tonight and drew loved it. "do you like messing with me?" drew looked up at you as you still stood in front of him. it took a lot for him to not pull you down on his lap and kiss you. a lot actually. "maybe."

"we both know you want me just as bad as i want you right now," drew's hand fiddled with the end of your dress. "and what makes you so sure about that. hm?" you took a seat on his lap, his arm wrapped around your body, they felt even bigger than they looked. "i don't think you would've let me in your bedroom if you didn't." he said. and he was right, he was absolutely right and you didn't like it.

but clearly not enough because before you knew it, you were both tearing your clothes off each other and you were riding him. "fuck, i'm obsessed with you." drew said squeezing your ass as you bounced on his cock. his tight grip making you squeal a little, you knew it would leave marks but that was the last thing you were worried about. "you're so fucking perfect." you watched as drew's chest rose and fell at a certain pace. "cmon, talk to me." he begged.

your whole body felt so good that all you literally could do was let out moans and squeals, "s' good." you whispered, your eyes instinctively shut from the amount of pleasure. "wanna fuck you all the time." you said.

"yeah? you can baby. i'm all yours." drew responded. it was your first time having sex, but holy, the way your pussy felt wrapped around him; he swore he'd never even want to fuck anyone else ever again. "knew you weren't that shy."

you felt your cheeks get red at his comment, "m'gonna come!" you fell into his chest, heavy breaths leaving your lips as you collapsed on top of him. your manicured nails gripped onto his big arms, "me too." drew's breath hitched. you laid on him as you both caught your breath, "soooo, i am one of those lucky guys?"

[pinkyqily]

TWO HOOLIGANS INLOVE | JuJu watkins x teammate!reader

Summary: Just you and juju acting foolishly in front of the press

Warning: fluff, use of yn a few times

A/n: This isn't accurate to the actually games so don't bite me, fic is apart of my new series called hooligans inlove this isn't the first part so watch out for that, if you have any juju requests send em my way if you have any feedbacks feel free to leave them happy reading readers 🌹

Usc had just won the game against uconn. You, juju, and Ray had been called for media. After a phenomenal performance from the three of you.

coach knew it was going to be crazy having you and juju up there, but with Ray too, she could only hope y'all would be on your best behavior.

"Now, before you guys head up there, I need you to be on your best behaviors. She told all three of you, "Come on, coach me and yn are good, juju just the problem here." Ray told coach while sending diggers towards juju way

"There's no way I'm getting blamed right now." JuJu yelled, losing her so-called nonchalant chil.

"Can we get going already? No one has time for you two idoits arguing." You told the two girls as you make your way to the conference room." Bro, hold on." You didn't have to turn your head around hearing your annoying girlfriend and teammate calling you, bro.

"Who are you calling bro Judea?". You said out as you stopped in your tracks, staring at juju with your arms crossed around your chest. Ray voice Intervene swinging her arms around you and juju.

"Come on guys, let's not argue."

"If she calls me bro one more time, it gonna end up with more than an argument." You told them both. JuJu, who knew what was best for her, stopped calling you bro but couldn't wipe away the stupid smirk on her face as you guys sat down.

The press was going well Juju and Ray made a few jokes here and there when answering questions until it was your turn to answer some Juju had decided now was the perfect time to be distracting you.

Anytime you got a question she would turn her whole head and body towards you as she looked deep in your eyes not taking off contact.

"So what do you think about this win against uconn and how we're you guys able to come back from previous games?" A reporter asked directing the question to you.

"Um the win was definitely a hard fought and we definitely brought in our all I think we're able to learn from our previous game against,

them on what to do and not to do-.you stopped mid sentence to say, "ju can you stop staring at me like your life depends on it." You told the girl as you guys secretly held hands under the table.

"I'm doing no such thing." She said after looking away.

"Whatever." You told her, but this time yanking your hand away from hers under the table only for her to grab it back

"Can y'all stop wasting the people's time?" Ray spoke up with a slight teasing tone, she was stuck sitting in the middle of two drunk inlove players while it was entertaining she didn't want to be no 3rd wheel

"Um, sorry for that interruption." cough cough as you did that while side eying juju.

"One last question for juju, what did you think of yn performance today and how she contributed to the team performance wise".

"I think that her performance today was topnotch, probably one of her best, she contributed a lot by getting really involved with defense and offensive if I can say so myself she brings a lot to the team when she can".

You found yourself starring back into juju eyes as she spoke there was always something about her that made you feel all warm inside you couldn't tell if it was because you haven't let her hand go or something else.

It felt like only you two were in the room, and that's until Ray voice brought you back to earth. "I think you both got staring problems at this point." She told you as the room erupt with laughter.

Anyone in there could sense the growing tension between you and juju. From the way you both spoke about each other to the not so subtle touches, anyone could tell you're both madly in love.

You guys got up heading back to the rest of them, team.

"Ugh, I can already see the edits coming about you two so nasty." Ray told y'all as she made a gaging sound.

"Oh please, they aren't that bad". You told her

"Not bad, juju was basically undressing you with her eyes, and you sat there eating it up."

"Not my fault that my girl a baddie." JuJu said as her hand brushed against yours. It was little things like this that got you worked up, and she knew it.

"At least I've been promoted from bro to my girl." You told both girls making them laugh.

Before you knew it, clips from the press were already going viral.

Some people called juju whipped sum saying, "You we're complaining even though you were down bad for juju too, people fighting about you guys being gf while others disagree and say you're a couple."

[nyxs2]

Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 11/?)

Some reasons are closer than you realize.

Silco x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 7,4K

Warnings: smut, a little bit of female domination, vaginal sex, making love, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), orgasm edging, resolved sexual tension, possessive behavior, Silco being a tease, Silco being bad with feelings, thoughts of wanting to kill someone, Silco POV

Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

Part 10

Silco's Pov ━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━ Silco was between her legs.

He hadn't planned for this when he entered the room the night before. Of course, he had noticed that peculiar glint in her eyes, something carrying that characteristic provocation, as if she were always testing his limits. He knew exactly what that restless, wicked mind of hers was scheming, but unlike what she had likely expected, he didn't take the bait. He simply shared the bed with her to actually sleep. He was far too exhausted to keep playing that game, and the last thing he wanted was to drag it out further. The confrontation in his office had already drained what little patience and energy he had left.

Still, the night hadn't been a loss. He had discovered something valuable: her feelings toward him were more... open, almost vulnerable. That was an advantage. He could work with that apparent softness, shape it to his interests. All in due time.

But not that night. At that moment, all he wanted was to sleep.

Sleep, however, had never been an easy visitor for Silco. He knew what it meant to lay his head on a pillow: opening the door to the specters of his mind. Nightmares, distorted memories, and the relentless sensation that he always needed to be alert haunted him. Most of the time, sleep only came through sheer exhaustion, when his body simply shut down, or through the medications Singed occasionally provided.

But that night was different. He was tired, yes, but not enough to pass out. However, her presence beside him—the steady, measured rhythm of her breathing, the warmth radiating from her proximity—had an unexpected effect. It was as if his own mind was willing to yield, to allow itself a rare moment of rest.

He lay beside her, not too close, but close enough to feel her pleasant warmth. He pretended to be asleep, something that surprised him in how well it worked. She seemed to settle, as if her usual restlessness faded the moment she believed he had already drifted off. It was almost curious how this woman, so full of life and provocation, seemed so small and serene while she slept.

Silco waited patiently. He watched as she slowly surrendered to exhaustion, until finally, her body relaxed and her breathing became steady. Only then, when he was certain she had completely fallen asleep, did he allow his gaze to rest on her.

She looked just as she had for the past seven nights—peaceful, her features softened in a way he rarely saw when she was awake. But this time, something was different. He knew that, unlike the previous nights, she would wake soon, and that certainty brought a peculiar sense of relief, though he would never admit it.

Silco didn't touch her. He didn't wrap an arm around her, didn't pull her closer. Instead, he turned to the other side, his eyes fixed on the darkness of the room, allowing the silence to consume him.

And then, finally, he slept. Still dressed in the same clothes, still burdened with the same worries, but for once, without the demons that usually haunted him. Only the sound of her breathing filled the room, a constant reminder that she was there. Against all odds, she was alive, beside him, in his bed—just as he had wanted. And for now, that was enough.

Silco wasn't sure how many hours he had slept, but the light seeping through the window—left uncovered the night before—betrayed the arrival of morning. However, it wasn't the brightness that pulled him from sleep. It was something else. Something more... tangible. Something he felt before he even opened his eyes.

When he finally did, the sight before him left him momentarily speechless.

She was there, straddling his lap. A vision that would sear itself into his mind like an unrelenting blaze.

She looked like a profane goddess, devoid of any trace of celestial purity, yet still divinely dangerous. Her tousled hair gave her a wild charm; the white shirt she wore slipped off one shoulder, revealing a glimpse of bare skin and the beginning of her breasts—more teasing than revealing. Her firm, bare thighs bracketed his hips, pinning him against the mattress as if she held complete control of the situation. The soft morning light kissed her skin, rendering her almost ethereal—a perfect blend of the profane and the sublime.

And her eyes... Those eyes burned with a fire Silco recognized all too well—intentions far from innocent.

He could get used to this, he thought. He could get very used to this.

Still, he made no move to touch her—not immediately. Silco was not a man who surrendered control easily, even in situations like this. Instead, he settled more comfortably into the bed, his eyes half-lidded in careful assessment as he arched a brow, an expression laced with curiosity and controlled disdain.

"Care to explain this?" His voice came out rough, a mix of lingering sleep and the situation at hand.

She smiled, a smile that promised nothing good.

"You looked like you needed help."

For a moment, Silco frowned, clearly confused by the meaning of her words. But then she moved—slowly—her hips tracing an almost imperceptible circle. It was enough for the meaning behind her words to crash over him like a ton of bricks. He had forgotten he could wake up like this.

Silco reacted immediately. His hands, firm and quick, reached for her hips, gripping them with a hold that conveyed both restraint and authority.

"Don't you dare."

She tilted her head, the mischievous gleam in her eyes growing as she bit her lip, as if testing his limits on purpose.

"I thought you liked a little... initiative."

Silco's grip on her hips tightened just slightly, holding her firmly in place.

"Be careful with your next move, dove."

When she tried to move her hips again, Silco reacted instinctively, attempting to push her off him, but the effort was useless. As if she had anticipated his attempt, she locked her legs against the mattress, keeping herself firmly in place. He felt the weight of her settle even more as she met his gaze with that stubborn, half-lidded look he was starting to know all too well. A look that clearly said: I'm not backing down.

"Get off." His voice was firm, a serious command, laced with the authority he always exuded. But to his growing frustration, she simply ignored him.

Instead, she leaned over him, her arms braced on either side of his head, moving close enough that her hair fell around his face, framing him. Suddenly, all he could see was her—her intense eyes, the teasing glint, and that suffocating proximity.

"You're pulling away." Her voice came as a murmur, laced with something between frustration and challenge. Her eyes met his with a seriousness that felt oddly out of place, considering the position they were in. "You haven't touched me since we got in here. I didn't think you were that stingy."

"What?" Silco blinked, thrown off by the sudden accusation. He tried to focus on responding, but it was difficult, considering the strategically placed weight pressing down on him, scattering his thoughts. "Is that why you're being so stubborn this early in the morning?" Silco let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his head back against the pillow. "Do you think I've lost interest in you?"

This time, it was her turn to roll her eyes, the condescension almost irritating.

"Oh, please, I'm not that naïve." A teasing smile curled her lips. "I know you want me. You want this..." And as if to prove her point, she moved her hips again, defying the firm grip he had on her to keep her still.

He felt his control falter for a moment, but his fingers dug into her hips, his expression hardening.

"Stop that." His voice was low, but there was a weight to it that he hoped would be enough to restrain her.

She, however, only leaned in further, bringing their faces impossibly close.

"But something is holding you back."

"You just woke up from a seven-day coma, and I am not a pervert." Silco's voice was rough, almost a growl, as he kept his gaze locked onto hers. It was as if he were explaining something obvious, something unquestionable, yet to her, it sounded like the most absurd thing in the world. "Of course I stayed away. Sex isn't appropriate in your condition."

He tried to maintain his composure, his usual coldness, but the way she arched a defiant brow and the provocative look she shot him were testing the limits of his patience.

"Oh, believe me, Silco, my condition couldn't be better." she replied, her lips curling into that mischievous smile that always unsettled him. That smile that seemed to promise chaos and absolute control over him. "Better than yours, I'd say... old man."

"Careful, dove."

"Or what?" Her response was swift. "Are you going to punish me? I doubt you have it in you."

The implicit challenge in her words was enough to shatter the last remnants of Silco's restraint. He surged forward, his movements precise and almost violent, flipping their positions in an instant. Now, he was the one above her, his hands firmly pinning her wrists against the mattress. The weight of his body held her down, and he stared down at her with an intensity that felt almost predatory.

Silco could have said he had won this battle. He could have declared victory with her trapped beneath his control. But her smile—that damned smile—only widened. It was the kind of expression that made Silco feel that instead of conquering her, he had walked straight into the perfect trap she had set for him.

The sight of her there, lying beneath him on his bed, hair fanned out against the pillow, lips still curved in provocation, tested the very limits of his self-control. She knew exactly what she was doing, and every inch of her seemed designed to challenge his restraint.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Silco murmured, his voice low and tense, his mismatched eyes locked onto hers, analyzing every detail of her expression.

"Maybe." she tilted her chin up slightly, her posture relaxed despite her disadvantage. "But it looks like you wanted it too."

Silco felt the weight of her words like a knife slicing through his control. The tone, the intensity of her gaze, the vulnerability disguised as provocation — everything about her disarmed him in ways he couldn't explain, and it infuriated him. When she shifted her wrists, he let them go. Her hands rose immediately, traitorous and soft, brushing against his face with a gentleness that almost felt like an insult to the position he had just claimed. She wasn't resisting, wasn't fighting back, yet the way she looked at him... it was as if she were the predator, and he the prey.

"I'm alive, you know?" her voice was a whisper, but there was something deeper beneath it, something Silco caught onto instantly. Before he could react, she pulled his face down, pressing him against her chest. Her strong heartbeat echoed against his ear, a pulsing reminder of the life still running through that stubborn, untamed body. "So make me feel it."

Silco lifted his face to look at her again. The glint in her eyes held him captive, making it impossible to look away. She wasn't just asking—she was pleading in a way that blended desperation and desire in equal measure.

"Give me a reason to stay alive."

Her words echoed in his mind as he remained still for a moment. He wasn't a man who responded to pleas, especially not ones so openly emotional. But something about her... something about this moment made her request sound more like a command he couldn't refuse.

Then, Silco moved — slowly, as if each action were calculated to carve this moment into her memory. He rose above her, his silhouette outlined by the soft light filtering through the window, casting shadows and illuminating the sharp contours of his scarred face and lean frame. His fingers found the waistband of her shorts, slipping beneath with a precision only he possessed. The fabric yielded easily to his touch, discarded along with her panties, as if nothing else mattered in that moment.

If she wanted a reason, he would give her one.

Silco gazed down at her half naked form sprawled out beneath him on the bed, her creamy skin flushed. He ran his calloused hands slowly up her calves, relishing the smoothness of her flesh, so different from the rough, scarred skin of his own body.

Silco's eyes flared with lust as he pushed her thighs further apart, exposing her most intimate area to his hungry gaze. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her slick folds as he inhaled deeply, savoring her intoxicating aroma. Silco's thumb found her sensitive clit and he rubbed it in slow circles, feeling it swell and throb beneath his touch.

He trailed provocative kisses along the inside of her thigh, his lips and tongue leaving a damp, tingling path in their wake. Silco paused as he reached the apex of her thighs, his breath mingling with the heat radiating from her core. He looked up at she, his mismatched eyes burning into hers, before he leaned in and ran his tongue along her slit in one long, slow lick.

Silco took his time, his tongue dragging slowly along her slit, savoring every inch of her most intimate flesh. He seemed determined to map out every contour, every secret hollow and ridge, committing it to memory. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open, keeping her exposed to his hungry gaze and questing mouth.

Silco avoided her clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves that begged for his touch. He knew how much she craved it, how desperate she was for that push over the edge. But he denied her, teasing her mercilessly, his tongue flicking and fluttering along her lower lips, circling her entrance, dipping inside only to retreat before she could hope for more.

He could feel her trembling beneath him, could hear the needy little whimpers and moans that spilled from her lips. Silco hummed, a low, appreciative sound that vibrated through her core. Every now and then, he'd pull back, his lips brushing against her clit, close enough to feel the heat radiating from it, before moving away to continue his torturous path. He could feel her hips rocking, could sense her growing desperation as she chased his touch, his mouth, his tongue.

He could have been rough, maybe that was what she expected from him, could have devoured her with a hunger born of pent-up frustration and anger. But he held back, his gentle touch belying the dark promise in his eyes. He was being careful, so very careful, with his delicate dove. After all, she deserved some relief after everything she had been through.

Silco felt her fingers threading through his hair, but her touch was gentle, almost tentative. Not the desperate, frantic grip he might have expected from her. He glanced up at her, his gaze colliding with hers as he remained nestled between her thighs, his breath hot against her slick flesh.

He could see the frustration etched into every line of her face, the way her brows were furrowed and her lips were pressed into a thin, tight line. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, her chest heaving with each ragged breath she took. She looked like a woman teetering on the edge, a hair's breadth away from shattering completely.

And yet, despite her obvious need, her pleading eyes and quivering body, Silco held back. He couldn't bring himself to give her what she wanted, not yet. Not until he'd pushed her to the very brink, until she was begging him for mercy, for release.

He nuzzled into her mound, his lips brushing against her sensitive flesh as he spoke, his voice a low, husky murmur. "What is it, dove?" he asked, a wicked gleam in his eye. "What do you need?" he punctuated the words with a slow, deliberate lick along her clit.

"You know exactly what I want." her voice trailed off as she broke eye contact by throwing her head back with a long sigh. The gentle tug on his hair became a demand as she whispered, her voice strained and ragged with need. "Stop teasing me."

Her words trailed off into a desperate whimper as Silco's tongue flicked out to tease her once more, circling her clit again before retreating. The maddening rhythm of his licks and nips was driving her to the brink of insanity, the pleasure bordering on pain.

"Damn you, Silco." she growled, her voice a mix of anger and desperation. "Stop playing with me and just... just fuck me already."

"Shh, dove." he murmured, his words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. "Patience is a virtue. Surely a clever girl like you knows that sometimes, the anticipation is half the pleasure?"

Silco could see the desperation reaching a fever pitch in her eyes, the way her body squirmed and writhed beneath him, seeking more of his touch, more of the pleasure he was so cruelly withholding from her. With a wicked, knowing smirk, he decided it was time to turn his attention to her aching, throbbing clit.

He leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling it pulse and quiver against his lips. He lapped at her slowly, his tongue swirling and circling, teasing her mercilessly. He could feel her thighs begin to tremble, her fingers tightening in his hair as he worked her closer and closer to the edge.

He suckled her clit gently, his lips sealing around the sensitive flesh as he flicked his tongue back and forth, back and forth, driving her to new heights of ecstasy. He could feel her hips rocking against his face, her body arching as she chased her release.

Just as he felt her start to stiffen, her muscles tensing and her back arching off the bed, Silco pulled away. He wrenched his mouth from her sex, his hands leaving her thighs to grip her hips and hold her down as she bucked and writhed beneath him. He could feel the frustration radiating off her in waves, could see the betrayal and anger flashing in her eyes as she glared down at him.

Panting, Silco looked up at her, his lips glistening with her arousal, a wicked smirk playing on his mouth. "Ah ah ah, not yet." he chided, his voice a low, teasing murmur. "You don't get to come that easily. Not until I say you can." he punctuated the words with a sharp nip to her inner thigh, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh just hard enough to make her yelp.

Silco sat back on the bed, his eyes roaming hungrily over her body, taking in every dip and curve, every inch of soft, inviting skin. He let her legs fall open around his waist, keeping her exposed and open to his gaze, his touch, his every whim. His hands slid up her thighs, his fingers splaying over the smooth expanse of skin, feeling the heat radiating from within.

Slowly, almost lazily, Silco began to remove his vest. He shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. Next, he loosened his tie, the black silk slipping through his fingers like liquid. He tugged it free, tossing it carelessly onto the growing pile of clothing. As he worked on the buttons of his shirt, Silco glanced up to find she staring at him, her gaze almost tangible in its intensity. He paused, his fingers stilling on the button he'd just started to undo, suddenly self-conscious in a way he rarely was. It wasn't often that Silco felt apprehensive about anything, let alone the way he looked. He knew he wasn't that hideous to look at, his younger self attracted attention and certainly the current self did the same thing, but in a somewhat rugged and dangerous way. But there was something about the way she was looking at him now that made him wonder, made him question whether she would find the sight of his half-naked form pleasing to the eye.

"You're staring, dove."

Silco watched intently as she sat up, his eyes never leaving her face, gauging her every reaction. He remained still as she reached out, her delicate fingers starting to unbutton his shirt with a patience that surprised him. He couldn't remember the last time someone had taken such care, such reverence in undressing him.

He braced himself for her reaction, for the revulsion or pity he knew would surely follow when he saw the scars he had acquired over the years. But as the last button slipped free, he saw no disgust in her eyes. Only a fierce, almost hungry intensity that made his blood run hot. He felt her hands on his bare torso, her fingers tracing the lines of his scars, the ridges of muscle and bone. She explored him with a touch that was almost reverent, as if she were committing every inch of him to memory.

He said nothing, watching her through hooded eyes as she helped him shrug out of his shirt, the fabric slipping down his arms to pool on the bed behind him. Somehow, that action felt more intimate than what they were about to do. A kind of intimacy that surpassed even sex.

Silco pulled her towards him, his hands gripping her waist as he tugged her against his bare chest. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, his mouth slanting over hers with a hunger that stole her breath. He kissed her like a man starved, like he wanted to devour her whole, to consume every last inch of her until there was nothing left.

At the same time, he pushed her back down onto the bed, his body covering hers, pinning her beneath him. He could feel her softening, yielding to him, her curves molding to the hard planes of his body. His hand slid down her side, over the dip of her waist, the flare of her hip, until it reached the waistband of his trousers.

With a deft, almost lazy movement, Silco undid his pants, the zipper parting with a soft hiss in the charged silence of the room. He didn't break the kiss, his mouth still moving over her, his tongue still stroking and teasing and tasting her. But he could feel her anticipation, could sense the way her body tensed and tightened waiting for him.

Slowly, almost torturously so, Silco slid his hand inside his pants, his fingers wrapping around his hard, aching length. He could feel the heat of it, the way it throbbed and pulsed in his grip, the way it leaked and wept with the need to be inside her. With a low, guttural groan, he slowly, inch by inch, entered her.

He could feel her tightness, her wetness, the way her walls clenched and fluttered around him as he pushed deeper and deeper inside her. It was a slow, sensual slide, a deliberate, purposeful claiming of her body, but it felt different from the other times. It felt more meaningful, more... visceral.

Silco could feel every inch of her, could savor every second of their joining, could revel in the way she took him in, welcomed him, needed him.

He swallowed her gasp with his mouth, his tongue muffling the sound, his lips curling into a smirk of pure male satisfaction. He could feel her trembling beneath him, could sense the way her body strained towards his, seeking more, needing more. And he gave it to her, his hips rolling forward, his length driving deep, claiming her, possessing her, making her his in every way that mattered.

Silco broke the kiss, his lips trailing along her jaw, her neck, until he reached the sensitive skin of her shoulder. He nuzzled into the crook of her neck, his breath hot and heavy against her flesh as he rested his forehead against her shoulder. His hips continued their slow rhythm, his length sliding in and out of her slick heat, each thrust pushing him deeper, each retreat leaving him teetering on the brink of withdrawal before he plunged back in.

He could feel her nails raking down his back, her fingers curling into his skin, her grip tightening with each thrust. The sharp sting of her nails scoring his flesh only spurred him on, made him drive into her harder, faster, with a fervor that bordered on punishing. He could hear her moans, feel them vibrating through her chest, could sense the way her body strained and arched beneath him, demanding more.

Silco's hand slid up her side, his fingers skimming over the curve of her breast, the swell of her hip. He gripped her chin, turning her face towards him, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. He could see the pleasure etched into every line of her face, the way her eyes were glazed and unfocused, the way her lips were parted and trembling with each ragged breath she took.

Silco held her gaze, those eyes so alive, so human, so hers. A big difference from that soulless white during the incident in Singed's lab.

His hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, gripping it, holding her in place. He wanted to drink in the sight of her, to memorize every flicker of emotion that crossed her face, every gasp and moan that fell from her lips. He wanted to burn this moment into his mind, to keep it with him forever, a reminder of the power he held over her, the way he could make her feel, the way he could bring her to life with his touch.

Silco felt her body stiffen beneath him, her back arching off the bed, her nails digging into his shoulders, her eyes squeezing shut as a silent scream tore from her throat. He could feel her coming undone, her walls clenching and fluttering around his length, her body shaking and trembling with the force of her climax. It was a beautiful, breathtaking sight, one that made his heart pound and his blood sing with primal satisfaction.

Silco let himself go, his hips slamming forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside her spasming heat. His release crashed over him like a tidal wave, his seed erupting from him in thick, hot ropes, painting her walls white with his essence. He crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries, drinking in her ecstasy as if it were a fine wine. His hand gripped her hair tighter, his other arm wrapping around her waist, holding her flush against him, keeping her pinned and trapped and utterly his as he rode out the aftershocks of his climax.

Finally, with a shuddering breath, Silco rolled to the side, staring at the ceiling as he caught his breath. However, a sound caught his attention. He turned to face her, one brow arched as he took in her amused expression as she laughed, the way her eyes danced with mischief and satisfaction.

"And you didn't want my help." her voice came out teasing, breathless from both the sex and the laughter.

"How curious you should say that." he murmured, his voice a low, teasing drawl. "Because I remember you begging me to fuck you."

She turned her face to him, strands of sweat-dampened hair clinging stubbornly to her flushed cheeks, framing her expression in a way that struck Silco as unintentionally disarming. Her gaze was soft, a vulnerability peeking through the defiance that usually colored her every word and action. It was the kind of look that unsettled him—not because it posed a threat, but because it invited a reaction he wasn't accustomed to navigating.

That softness in her eyes... Silco wasn't sure how to interpret it. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure if the drop would shatter him or leave him standing on solid ground.

"Touché." she murmured, her voice low, yet filled with an unspoken acceptance of her defeat.

Somehow, he felt like he had also lost some internal battle. One he hadn't realized he had started. And he hated it.

"Touché indeed, dove."

━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

[...]

That laboratory exuded the same dark essence as the Institute, though it carried an even dirtier, more decayed air. The peeling walls seemed to whisper forgotten secrets, while the acrid smell of chemicals mingled with something deeper and more visceral: the pungent aroma of death and despair. It was a suffocating atmosphere that made your skin crawl and your stomach churn. There was something there that went beyond simple physical discomfort; it was as if every molecule of that place was infused with suffering and fear, leaving behind an almost primal urgency to destroy everything around you.

Your senses screamed at you to act, to eliminate the evil that permeated that room. A malevolence that was now embodied in the figure of the scientist in front of you, hunched over you, meticulous in his task. He pierced the needle into your skin with the precision of someone who had repeated the same procedure countless times, without emotion, without hesitation. The dark red liquid filled the collection tubes as you felt an unpleasant tingling creep up your arm.

You knew he had done something. You might not know what, but your instincts told you as much. Something was wrong, and he was the culprit.

Your gaze fixed on him like a blade ready to pierce. You watched him like a predator locking onto its prey, feeling a silent rage grow in your chest, radiating to your limbs. It was irrational, yet it made perfect sense: you wanted to kill him. Not for what he was doing now, but for what he had already done, for what he represented. It was as if he personified everything wrong with that place, as if his death would be one step closer to purification.

The scientist, however, seemed immune to the weight of your gaze. He didn't avert his eyes from his work, focused on filling the tubes with your blood as if it were just another routine task. Perhaps he was used to hateful looks. Perhaps he simply didn't care.

"For analysis." he murmured finally, labeling the tubes with cold efficiency. His voice was monotone, as if he spoke only because it was necessary, with no intention of engaging beyond the bare minimum. It was almost as if you were an object, a tool for experimentation, not a person.

Sevika was there, of course, a solid and inevitable presence in the corner of the room. She was a shadow, but not the kind that went unnoticed; her imposing figure and disinterested, almost bored expression conveyed an unshakable vigilance. Even when she seemed not to be paying attention, you knew she was registering everything around her.

Outside, there were more men, but they weren't there to protect you — after all, if there was any danger in that room, that danger was you. They were there to ensure you didn't escape again, that there wouldn't be another kidnapping attempt or any other incident.

The increase in security measures was undeniable. The night shifts had more men now, and the furtive, monitoring glances had been replaced with blatant surveillance. No one pretended not to be watching your every step, taking note of every move. Your privileges had been revoked by Silco for an indefinite period. In short, your freedom was suspended. No more open doors or unescorted movements.

But what stood out to you the most, what truly made the changes scream at your senses, was the way Silco's men now looked at you. They tried to disguise it, of course. Tried to act like everything was normal, but you saw the apprehension in their eyes, the way their hands stayed closer to their weapons when you walked by. It was subtle, but for someone like you, it was impossible not to notice.

They were afraid of you.

It wasn't the same fear they felt for Silco — his was deeper, rooted in respect and terror for his authority. The fear they had of you was different. It was more immediate, more instinctive. They looked at you as if they expected you to lose control at any moment, as if it was inevitable that you would explode. A caged animal about to strike.

You didn't need to be reminded of the reason. The warehouse. You knew that. No one would ever speak of that night again — Silco made sure of it — but that didn't mean it would be forgotten so easily. It was strange, feeling that fear so tangibly. It was something you used to associate with Silco, with the way he entered a room and made everyone freeze. Now, you were doing the same. And you couldn't decide if it bothered you... or satisfied you.

That is, everyone was afraid — except Sevika.

Sevika looked more irritated than usual, and the reason was obvious: being assigned as your personal guard couldn't have been the most stimulating task for Silco's right hand. She made no effort to hide her displeasure, which only made the dynamic between you even more uncomfortable. The weight of her gaze—half judgmental, half exasperated—was almost tangible, as if you were an unwanted burden, something she had to tolerate simply because it was a direct order from Silco.

You knew what she thought: that this was a waste of time, that Silco could have assigned anyone else to "watch over his whore." It was an expression you had overheard once, spoken in a moment of fury, though never directed at you. Despite the harshness, you understood, even if you hated to admit it.

When Singed finally finished extracting your blood, he applied a bandage to your arm with the same lack of delicacy as always. The gesture was mechanical, as if you were just another piece in his endless experiments. Without another word, he turned away, his hand gesturing toward the door with a clarity that needed no explanation.

You didn't need to think twice. Every part of you longed to get out of that place. Sevika was already waiting outside, casually leaning against the wall as if she were part of the surroundings. Before you could say anything, she stepped forward and, with a brusque motion, threw a coat over your shoulders. The sudden touch made you startle, more out of instinct than anything else.

"What was that?" you asked, lifting the fabric as if you didn't understand the need for it.

Sevika, without even looking at you, shrugged and turned to walk down the narrow hallway.

"It's cold outside." that was all she said, her tone dry, sharp, leaving no room for argument.

You rolled your eyes, sighing as you followed her. Her strides were long, forcing you to pick up your pace just to keep up. It was irritating how even that seemed intentional, as if she wanted to constantly remind you that she was in control of the situation. Then again, you never really seemed to be in control of anything ever since you had come back under Silco's wing.

"Is this really necessary?" you asked, motioning to the bandage on your arm as you quickened your steps. "It's been three weeks, and I'm perfectly fine. I don't see why I still have to come back to this damn place."

"Silco's orders."

Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. There was something undeniably final in her tone, something that made it clear she wasn't willing to discuss the matter any further. Her face, as hardened as the steel that made up her mechanical arm, only reinforced that impression.

"Take it up with him, not me."

You took a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you actually like playing bodyguard." you shot back, crossing your arms. Your voice carried a hint of provocation, but there was also genuine exhaustion in it. "I know you hate this job just as much as I do."

Sevika didn't respond. Her silence was almost as irritating as the idea of being escorted by her. You bit the inside of your cheek, searching for a new angle.

"Well... not that I mind the company." a mischievous smile danced on your lips as you spoke. "I remember you used to enjoy mine quite a bit."

That did it. Sevika halted in the middle of the street, her body coiled like a spring about to snap. When she turned to face you, her eyes burned with an intensity that made the air around her feel heavier. She stepped toward you, her firm footsteps echoing against the pavement, closing the distance until you had to tilt your head back to meet her gaze.

Oh. She looked like she was about to strangle you.

"Don't ever bring that up again."

You tilted your head slightly to the side, feigning innocence.

"Why not? Don't tell me you never told Silco about us."

For a split second, something flickered across her expression—something almost imperceptible in her eyes. Maybe irritation, maybe discomfort. Whatever it was, it bothered her, and that only fueled your desire to keep pushing.

"There is no 'us'!"

You let out a dramatic sigh, forcing your voice to sound wounded. "Ouch. That hurts, Sevika... I thought I meant something to you."

She scoffed, the sound almost as rough as the laughter you remembered hearing from her months ago in a very different context. And yet, you caught it—a fleeting glimmer in her eyes, a trace of amusement she was clearly trying to suppress.

"You're still the same damn brat, it seems."

You smiled. Not just any smile, but the one you knew she'd understand—the one that told her you knew exactly how to get a reaction out of her. "Just the way you liked..."

Sevika shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line, but you could've sworn you saw the corner of her mouth twitch upward, just for a second.

"Oh, what a coincidence."

The male voice cut through your thoughts, making you turn your head toward the speaker. It was easy to recognize the figure in front of you: the faded yellow coat, the metallic prosthetic gleaming under the flickering streetlights. And, of course, that cynical smile—just as much a part of him as his tattoos. Finn.

He wasn't alone. Just like you, he was surrounded. His men were strategically placed around the area, each one gripping a weapon, their presence carrying a silent threat that hung in the air like the metallic scent of blood.

"I didn't expect Silco to let you out so soon, considering... what happened." his voice carried a tone of feigned surprise, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed him—he already knew.

Of course he knew. It was naïve to think the barons wouldn't have heard about your kidnapping. Information traveled fast in Zaun, especially when it involved someone like you, someone directly tied to Silco.

Finn took a few more steps toward you, moving with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where he stood. You felt Sevika right behind you, a wall of protection, her presence as solid as a shadow. Though she hadn't moved or spoken, you could feel the tension radiating from her, like she was just waiting for the slightest excuse to draw her weapon.

"But I'm glad to see you safe and sound." Finn continued, his grin stretching into something almost cruel. "Silco would've been unbearable if anything happened to his little pet."

The condescending tone in his voice made your stomach churn. The way Finn uttered that word—pet—made something inside you recoil. His tone was meticulously chosen to humiliate, to reduce you to something insignificant, a plaything under Silco's rule. Your fingers twitched instinctively, but you held back the urge to respond in kind.

Finn noticed your reaction, of course, and seemed to revel in it. He tilted his head slightly, as if he wanted to appear helpful, though the malicious glint in his eyes said otherwise.

"Anyway, our people need to look out for their own." He shrugged, a casual gesture that felt rehearsed. "So, if you ever need someone to... disappear, if you catch my meaning, or maybe just a friendly shoulder to lean on—" He paused, letting the offer hang in the air for a moment. "Stop by Slickjaws. I'd be honored to have you."

"I'll consider it." you replied, keeping your voice smooth, almost polite, even as bile rose in your throat.

Finn lifted a hand in a gesture you recognized immediately, though it still made your skin crawl. Out of politeness—or mere formality—you offered your own, already regretting it the moment your fingers met his. The press of his lips, or more precisely, the cold metal of his prosthetic, against the back of your hand was light, yet it lasted a beat too long. His eyes never left yours throughout the gesture.

There was something calculated about it, a kind of manufactured intimacy that felt entirely unnecessary. As if every movement of his was designed to feign gentleness, a deliberate attempt to invade a space you had no intention of surrendering.

"You remain quite the vision, my dear." he murmured, his voice as syrupy as poisoned honey. When Finn finally released your hand, it took all of your willpower not to wipe it immediately against your clothes—something he would undoubtedly notice. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

You watched as he walked away, your gaze locked onto his back, assessing, calculating. Beside you, Sevika had already pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, but her eyes were also fixed on Finn, her expression as severe as yours.

"How much longer is that guy gonna keep breathing?"

"As long as Silco thinks he's useful." Sevika replied, her voice as dry as the undercity air around you. Without even looking at you, she started moving again, signaling that it was time to move on.

But something in you wasn't ready to let the subject die there.

"Didn't that seem a little too suspicious to you?"

Sevika let out a low grunt from her throat, a sound that could've been impatience just as easily as indifference. Without breaking her stride, she shoved her pack of cigarettes in your direction—a gesture so automatic it seemed like she hadn't even realized she'd done it.

"He just barks. He doesn't bite."

You reached out without hesitation, pulling two cigarettes from the pack. In one smooth motion, you retrieved your own lighter from your pocket, the cold weight of the metal between your fingers stirring an odd sense of nostalgia for the situation. You lit Sevika's cigarette first, holding it between your fingers with the same casual ease as always. When the tip glowed red, you passed it back to her before lighting your own.

"Maybe." you murmured, exhaling the first puff and letting the smoke curl lazily between you. "But his barking might attract bigger dogs."

Sevika exhaled through her nose, the smoke spilling out like a deliberately restrained dragon. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she turned to look at you, weighing your words as if trying to decide whether this was a valid warning or just another one of your attempts to get under her skin.

"I'll inform Silco."

[...]

You were on your way to Silco's office, begrudgingly following Sevika's orders. She had shoved you toward the stairs, and the glance she threw over her shoulder before turning back to deal with some unlucky bastard made it clear—she would rather be anywhere else than dealing with more problems.

That brief pause, however, gave you something rare: a few seconds of "freedom." Too bad it didn't last long.

Because something came flying straight at you.

Your peripheral vision caught it too late, and before you could react, it hit your head—hard. The impact was unexpected, knocking you back as a throbbing pain pulsed at the point of contact. It wasn't enough to send you to the ground, but it did throw you off balance.

You braced yourself against the nearby wall, fingers pressing against your forehead as the pain radiated outward. When you finally looked down, you saw the culprit—a small metallic monkey, twitching like an out-of-control puppet. Its cymbals clashed together in a frantic rhythm.

"Don't be so dramatic! I barely threw it."

The voice rang out, high-pitched and mischievous, like it was laughing directly at you. The sound echoed down the corridor, and for a moment, you looked around, trying to pinpoint the source. It was a feminine voice, familiar, brimming with an almost contagious energy.

Your attention, however, didn't stay on the voice for long—because the monkey quickly pulled it back. Its movements grew even more erratic, until a puff of blue smoke escaped from the tiny automaton. And then, almost comically, its head popped off, ricocheting off the walls like a pinball before disappearing into a dark corner of the hallway.

"What the f—"

"By the way, you should see the face you're making right now!" the voice continued between giggles. "Priceless!"

The sound of footsteps behind you broke the corridor's silence. Light, almost imperceptible steps—but you heard them. The owner of the voice. The owner of the damned flying monkey.

As you turned, the air left your lungs, as if someone had just knocked the wind out of you.

Standing before you was a little girl with bright blue braids.

Part 12

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I think a lot of people might have expected something rougher from Silco, considering the slightly dominant touch I gave him. But I’m an idiot for symbolism: see, if you pay attention, every time they had a more intimate moment, Silco was always dressed. And this is the first time he undresses—both in the literal and... not-so-literal sense. Sooooo, you get what I’m saying, right? Also, special appearances by Sevika, Finn, and Singed! And who could that person at the end be?? I have no idea…. 🤭

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[cutielando]

surprise | drew starkey

synopsis: in which Drew surprises you at one of your races

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

"I miss you" you whispered into the phone, your eyes stuck on the hotel room ceiling.

"I miss you too, darling" Drew's voice echoed through the phone, bringing a sad smile to your face.

The room was silent, the buzz of the track long gone as the late hours of the night rolled around.

The city lights of Abu Dhabi illuminated your dark room, casting a cold glow over your body.

The final race of the season was finally there, and you were so excited to finally finish the season on a high.

But still, something wasn't quite right.

Drew wasn't there with you.

He had to do some interviews for his new movie, "Queer", and couldn't attend the race. But even though you understood the demands of his job, you couldn't help the sadness that settled in the pit of your stomach.

"I wish you were here with me" you said, absentmindedly playing with the necklace he had given you for your 2 year anniversary.

Drew sighed, missing you just as much as you were missing him.

But slightly less, because he had booked a flight to come and see you as early as tomorrow, right before the race started.

"I know, I wish I was there with you to watch you be crowned World Champion" he said, teasing you a little with a smile on his face.

You laughed, knowing he was right.

After an amazing season, filled with multiple victories and even more podiums, you would finally be crowned World Champion after tomorrow's race.

Drew knew very well that becoming World Champion had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. It was precisely the reason why he had decided to reschedule his interviews and fly out to be with you during this moment in your career.

He couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you'd see him.

"Isn't it late over there?" Drew asked, after a few seconds in which neither of you said anything.

You looked over at the clock on your bedside table, the numbers illuminating 2:32 am.

"Yeah, it's half past 2 in the morning" you said, the tiredness of the full day slowly starting to catch up to you.

Drew huffed, knowing that you have to get some rest for tomorrow.

"You should get some rest, love. You need to be focused for tomorrow" he said, his voice soft.

You sighed, knowing he was probably right, but at the same time, you didn't want to hang up.

You wanted to keep talking to him, no matter what.

"But we barely had time to talk today" you said, your voice small.

Drew knew how sad you were, but he also knew you needed an incentive to actually start thinking about you and the race ahead.

He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips as he stood in the airport first-class bathroom, hoping you wouldn't pick up on the chatter outside the doors and realize he wasn't home where he was supposed to be.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But you know how it is, we're both busy right now. We'll see each other when you get back, and we'll make up for lost time. But you need to focus on tomorrow so you can show everyone just how amazing you are and win this championship" he said, his heart squeezing at the fact that he's going to see you soon enough.

You groaned, burying your face into your pillow.

Despite not wanting to admit it, you knew he was right. The tiredness from the day was catching up with you, your eyelids now heavy and your limbs sore.

"Okay. You're right. Talk in the morning?" you asked, your voice tired, but hopeful.

Drew chuckled, which warmed your heart and made it long with desire to see him soon.

"Yeah, text me when you wake up. I love you, good luck tomorrow" he said, his voice warm.

"I love you too" you said, your voice drowsy.

Drew smiled as he waited on the phone for a couple more minutes, listening to your breathing get slower and slower until he was sure you had fallen asleep.

He whispered a quiet 'I'll see you tomorrow' and blew you a kiss before he finally hung up, stuffing his phone in his pocket as he went back to the main lounge, counting down the minutes until his flight would take off and he would be a step closer to getting to Abu Dhabi.

A step closer to seeing you.

♡♡♡♡♡

Morning rolled around, your alarm blaring throughout the spacious hotel room.

You groaned as you stretched your arm and blindly tried to find your phone, desperate to get a little more sleep.

“Where the fuck is it” you grumbled under your breath, lifting your head to search for your phone through bleary and sleepy eyes.

Once you finally got a hold of your phone, you immediately disabled your alarm, falling backwards against the pillows once again.

You were tired, your limbs felt heavy, your eyelids were refusing to stay open for more than a couple of seconds at a time.

Maybe staying up late to talk to Drew wasn't your brightest idea, especially before a big race like Abu Dhabi.

After spending a couple of more minutes with your eyes closed, you finally decided to get up and start the day.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you unlocked it and quickly texted Drew a good morning text.

You frowned a little when there was no reply from him, seeing as he usually always responded to you as quickly as he could.

Shrugging it off, you slowly got ready and met up with your personal trainer to make your way to the track.

Still frowning because Drew hasn’t texted you at all.

"Have you heard from Drew today? I texted him this morning but he hasn't replied to any of my texts" you asked Lizzie, your personal assistant.

Lizzie stilled for a moment, but quickly recovered and shook her head, giving you a sympathetic smile.

Unbeknownst to you, she knew about Drew's plans to surprise you, and knew he was currently on a flight to Abu Dhabi.

"No, sorry. I'm sure he's just caught up with interviews and doesn't have his phone on him" she said, at which you nodded.

Maybe she was right.

Or maybe she was downright lying and he was currently minutes away from landing in Dubai.

Only time will tell.

♡♡♡♡♡

"You're due in the car in 15 minutes" Lizzie announced as she stuck her head in your driver's room.

You smiled at her and thanked her, turning your attention back to your phone. You sighed, opening the iMessage app for what felt like the thousandth time in the past hour.

Drew still hadn't texted you, which was really nothing like him to not be in touch for so long.

What if something had happened to him? What if he got into an accident or something? What if he needed your help and you had no idea where he was?

Dozens of dark thoughts were clouding your mind, each more somber and dangerous than the previous one.

Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering you?

Your fingers were hovering over your keyboard once again, thinking about sending Drew just one more text before you really started freaking the fuck out.

But just as you were about to start typing out a message, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Yes?" you called out, your eyes fixated on the door.

There was no answer, but the door slowly started to open.

And then, your whole demeanor perked up instantly. There, standing in the doorway of your driver's room, in Abu Dhabi, was Drew in the flesh.

He sported a wide smile as he stood there, a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his arms.

Tears started welling up in your eyes as your eyes found his, looking at you with so much love and longing for all the weeks you had spent apart until now.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming right now" you said, your bottom lip trembling and your voice croaked with emotion.

Drew smiled and hung his head low, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"I'm here, baby" his husky voice filled the small room, and that was it for you.

You quickly stood up and practically launched yourself in his arms, your head filled with nothing but love and gratitude for the man standing right in front of you.

Your head was buried in the crook of his neck, and you were inhaling his scent, that scent that could make you weak in the knees in no more than a second.

His arms were holding onto you tightly, the flower bouquet now completely forgotten about laying on the floor next to your little sofa.

"I missed you so much" you whispered, squeezing your eyes and letting the tears fall on his shoulder.

"Shh, I'm here now" he cooed, cradling the back of your head with his big hand.

The feeling couldn't be put into words, no matter how hard you would try. You had missed him so much, missed having him close to you, missed sleeping beside him every single night, missed his kisses and his lingering soft touches.

You had missed everything about him.

"I hope you know you're in trouble for not answering my texts all day and making me worried sick about you" you mumbled, your voice muffled by the collar of his jacket.

Drew laughed, his chest rumbling against yours.

"I know, I'm sorry" he said, kissing a spot beneath your ear, which had his breath tickling the side of your exposed neck.

You didn't even care that you had to be in the car in now probably less than 5 minutes.

The car could wait.

You were too focused on Drew to care about anything else.

But another knock on the door seemed to want to ruin your plans completely.

"Who is it?" you called out, still holding onto Drew tightly, not ever wanting to let him go.

"It's me" Lizzie called out from outside your room. "I'm sorry to break you guys up, but we need you in the car, the race is starting in 10 minutes" she said, which made you internally groan.

For a split second, it had felt like the race could be forgotten. That you could just skip everything you had to do that day now that Drew was with you.

But reality was knocking on your door (in the form of Lizzie) and telling you that it didn't quite work like that.

You still had a championship to win.

"Go, I'll be in the garage cheering you on" Drew said, pecking your cheek before slowly unwrapping his arms from your waist.

"Thank you for coming here. I love you" you said, taking his hand in your hands and pressing your lips against his.

The kiss told him everything that you couldn't put into words. How much you had missed him, how much you loved him and how grateful you were that he was there with you.

"I love you too. Now go, before your engineers have my head for making you late" he said as soon as you pulled away, giving your ass a small pat as he shooed you out of the room.

You smiled cheekily at him and took your helmet, pecking his lips one more time before you followed Lizzie to your car.

Let the show begin, you thought.

♡♡♡♡♡

You didn’t even remember how you had managed to finish the race due to the tears that had been streaming down your face from the final 5 laps of the race.

And then when you finally crossed the finish line in first place, you couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy and emotional because of a race ever before.

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins as the reality of being world champion started to settle in your mind, but your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Seeing Drew.

As soon as you parked the car in front of the “1st place” sign, you jumped up and ran straight to him, waiting for you with your team at the barriers.

You scrambled to get out of the car as soon as you possibly could, desperate to throw yourself in his arms and finally let your emotions run wild.

"Drew!" you yelled out as soon as you got out of the car, abandoning your helmet and balaclava somewhere on the floor.

You broke out into a run, ignoring every single camera or reporter that had been waiting for you.

Drew smiled and jumped over the barriers, outstretching his arms just at the right time as you crashed into him, your hands wrapping tightly around his neck and your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek and cradling the back of your head.

You chuckled and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being with Drew after you had just achieved the biggest milestone of your career.

“Thank you for being my lucky charm” you said quietly, squeezing him a tad tighter than before.

Drew smiled and pulled away from the hug, cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips against yours.

It was a messy kiss, very rushed and sweaty, but neither of you really cared at that point. Just being with each other was enough in that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you in the middle of the busy post-race paddock.

And with flashes going off all around you, you let yourself be carried away by your boyfriend, basking in the glory of having just made history.

And having Drew by your side while doing it.

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[vampiriito]

Summer was my first muse.. (JJ Maybank X shy! kook! reader) Part 2

A/N: Hey loves! this is the second installment of summer was my first love and i just wanna say i love ya'll. You're all so nice, even the people simply liking, means a lot that my work is getting read. And the people asking to be on the taglist- you make my day. Anyway, here's your chapter, we're getting another interaction which I'm quite frankly very proud about. I like to think the reader is so funny, without actually trying, love her for wandering around the beach in skating attire. This work is dedicated to my friend, gwen :) love you wifey.

Summary: JJ Maybank spots you on the beach and discovers that his so-called good conversation skills are basically useless when it comes to you :) (although he still tries.)

You didn't know why you fell in love with JJ Maybank. He wasn't exactly the type of guy your parents would want you bringing home. Not with the reputation he liked to carry around just like you carried your camera or board. Well, until one day in 5th grade when your mom snooped through your diary and realized just how much you had been crushing on the blond hellion. Since then, your parents took a liking on the idea of you bringing home the guy who charmed his way into the heart of little 3rd grade you. But that was wishful thinking on theirs and Maisy's parts.

God, he was beautiful. His eyes were a shade of blue that you never quite managed to color match when looking for paint colors. The dimple on his cheek never failed to make your knees buckle and your tummy do a flip. You liked to think that if you actually had the courage to ever paint him, you'd paint JJ Maybank with gold specks deep in his baby blue irises and a boyish grin that managed to honor his dimple and the crow's feet by his eyes.

From this angle, the sun hit his hair just right, and despite being shrouded by the tree line you could still see the way the breeze brushed gently through the strands, messing them up and making them dance around his head like a halo. He's smiling, eyes crinkled at the corners like they do every time he's laughing or telling a story, and your finger hovers over the shutter-release button for a few moments simply just admiring him, before snapping a picture. It was like he was created to be photographed or painted, his smile and features so symmetrical that you envied him sometimes.

You watch as leans down and grabs a beer can, not paying too much attention at the hand offering it to him. He retrieves a small switch-blade from his board shorts' pocket and makes a small incision at the bottom of the of the can and bringing it to his lips. He successfully shot guns the can of Natty light and one-two-three.. click! another picture. You lower the camera and study the picture on the display, reaching up to adjust your glasses with a soft flick of your finger.

You liked photographing other things aside from JJ Maybank. Nature being second best on your 'favorites' list. The sky was so beautiful and the marsh and beach were your favorite places. The small creatures and the greenery or the ocean were your favorite attractions and no matter how many times you photographed them, they never looked the same. But as you wandered through the marsh that summer day, you ended at the edge of the tree-line, on the beach sitting none other than JJ, surrounded by his usual crowd of people, John B, Pope and Kiara, Sarah Cameron being an addition to their group a little later.

You didn't follow him out here. Much less with the intention of snapping secret snapshots from between the trees. Still, you felt like a creep... You raised the camera to your eyes again, capturing another shot. JJ was now gazing out at the water, pointing to the waves and laughing about something you couldn't hear. The scene was beautiful, his joy infectious. You lowered the camera and finally stepped out from the tree line onto the beach, frowning to yourself as you stepped on the sand, the texture of it already annoying you given you were wearing your beat up sneakers. There was a considerable distance between you, JJ and his crowd, so you weren't worried about being spotted or approached by him or his friends.

As you walked along the shoreline, your eyes were drawn to a starfish that had been washed up by the waves. Its delicate limbs sprawled out on the sand, glistening in the sun light. You decided to photograph it before releasing it back into the water. Crouching on the soft sand, you brought the camera's lens closer to the small creature, snapping a picture and then inspecting it happily.

The starfish, a fragile beauty against the damp sand, seemed to encapsulate a moment of pure serenity. A stark contrast from your everyday internal dialogue. How lucky was she, getting to live in complete silence and have people like you release her back into the ocean after being photographed?

JJ was still chatting and laughing with his friends, completely oblivious to your presence on the beach. He was in the midst of explaining the importance of timing waves while surfing when he suddenly caught a glimpse of something in his periphery view. He turned his head slightly and spotted you for the first time, kneeling on the sand a few yards away from him and his friends. He stopped mid-sentence, his attention momentarily shifting from his friends to you. He watched you kneel in the sand, taking pictures of a starfish that had been washed up by the waves.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to figure out why you always seemed to show up in the most random places, and why the hell were you wearing jeans and a hoodie to the beach? He had never really paid much attention to you before, but now he couldn’t help but be slightly curious about you.

He watched as you photographed the starfish, your face completely hidden behind the camera. He wondered what was so interesting about a simple starfish, but the longer he looked at you, the more intrigued he became.

You gently lifted the starfish after capturing its delicate beauty through your lens. With careful hands, you released it back into the water, watching as it gracefully disappeared beneath the waves. Your focus shifted to the rhythmic dance of the sea.

Raising the camera once again, you framed a shot of the sun's golden reflection on the waves. The light shimmered and danced on the water's surface, creating a breathtaking scene. This picture would need a bit of editing, but it was certainly worthy of posting on your Instagram. Aside from the pictures of JJ, of course. Those were just for you. You knew it might sound a bit strange and even creepy, but you weren't doing anything with the pictures. Besides, JJ wasn't the only one you photographed; he was just particularly captivating through your lens.

JJ continued watching you as you released the starfish back into the water, his curiosity growing with each passing second. He watched as you lifted your camera once more, snapping a picture of the sun reflecting off the waves. He couldn’t help but wonder what you found so interesting about the simple waves. He usually found himself taming the waves when he was out on the water, not admiring and taking pictures of them.

He found your interest in photography and natural beauty to be almost foreign to him. He’s always thought that everyone's interest laid in parties and surfing, not something so pure and quiet.

He sat there for a few minutes, continuing to watch you as you took more photographs of the ocean and the shoreline. He kept waiting for you to look over in his direction, to notice his eyes on you, but you seemed completely immersed in the viewfinder of your camera. He found himself watching with a mix of curiosity and fascination, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

The Boneyard was a breathtaking place—a hidden gem where the ocean met the land in a dramatic embrace. Sun-bleached driftwood trees stood like skeletal guardians along the shoreline, giving the beach its haunting name. The sand was cool beneath your sneakers, a mixture of fine grains and crushed seashells that shimmered like tiny pearls. The air was crisp with the scent of salt and the faint aroma of wildflowers that clung stubbornly to the rocky outcrops.

You were still aware that JJ was further down the beach, his laughter occasionally carried to you by the gentle sea breeze. Unbeknownst to you, his gaze had settled on you, a curious look in his aquamarine eyes. Oblivious, you turned away, your back now facing him. Your attention shifted to a new angle where the waves caught the sunlight just so, each crest adorned with a glistening spray that made the ocean look like it was covered in a blanket of diamonds. The water reflected hues of gold and silver, harmonizing with the deep blues and greens of the sea.

The Boneyard's beauty was a photographer's dream. You lifted the camera once more, framing the shot where the sun's rays kissed the waves, creating a mesmerizing sparkle that danced across the surface. The images of JJ, however, were different. Those were just for you—a secret collection of candid moments that captured something genuine and unguarded. It might seem a bit peculiar, maybe even intrusive, but photography was your way of connecting with the world, and JJ looked like he was made to exist through your viewfinder..

As you moved along the shoreline, the sound of the waves provided a soothing soundtrack, each crash and whisper syncing with the rhythm of your heartbeat. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows and bathing everything in a warm, golden light. Seabirds called out to one another as they swooped and dived, their silhouettes cutting gracefully through the sky.

The rugged beauty of the Boneyard captivated you. Clusters of sea grass swayed gently atop the dunes. You felt a profound sense of peace here, as if time itself had slowed down to let you absorb every detail. Raising your camera yet again, you captured the interplay of light and shadow, the textures of the driftwood, the endless horizon where the sea met the sky.

In that moment, everything else faded away—the concerns, the self-consciousness, even the awareness of JJ somewhere behind you. It was just you and the vast expanse of nature's artistry. You took a deep breath, the salty air filling your lungs, and smiled softly. This was why you loved photography—not just for the images it produced, but for the way it allowed you to see and appreciate the world in all its transient beauty.

JJ watched as you turned away from him, now facing the other direction. He took the opportunity to look at you without you noticing, his eyes scanning your form from behind. He noticed the way you moved around, trying to find new angles to photograph the waves. He was almost envious of how easy it seemed for you to just get lost in the moment, completely unbothered by anything or anyone around you.

He found himself wondering what it would be like to be so detached from the people and the world around you, just being completely focused on something as simple as the waves. He continued to watch you for a few moments, his eyes still fixed on your figure, before suddenly realizing that he had been staring for far too long. He quickly looked back to his friends, trying to play it off like he hadn’t just been blatantly staring at you.

He forced himself to keep his eyes off you, trying to tune back into the conversation that he was supposed to be a part of. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances in your direction, watching you as you moved and photographed the beach.

He found himself silently cursing the fact that he couldn’t just walk over to you and ask why you were so intriguing to him. He was JJ for crying out loud, he could talk to anyone he wanted.

As he continued to sit there with his friends, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated with himself. He was a confident guy, but for some reason he found it hard to approach you. Maybe it was because you were always so quiet and shy around him, or maybe it was because you seemed so engrossed in your photographs that it seemed like you didn’t want to be bothered. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wanted to get to know you, but he also couldn’t get up the courage to take the first step.

He tried to distract himself by joining in on his friends’ conversation, but his mind kept wandering back to you. He kept thinking about the way you knelt down in the sand, the way your face was hidden behind the camera, the way your hands moved effortlessly to adjust the settings of the camera.

Finally, his frustration got the best of him. He couldn’t sit there any longer, pretending that he wasn’t completely captivated by you. He decided it was time to act on his urges and finally talk to you, even if it meant facing your shy and awkward demeanor.

He stood up from his spot on the sand, the others in his crowd giving him quizzical glances, but he didn’t pay them any mind. He dusted off his shorts, his eyes still fixed on you, and began walking in your direction.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he got closer to you, his mind racing with thoughts of what he was going to say to you. 'What if you’re weird? What if you hate me? What if you start stuttering again?’ he worried while his legs carried him towards your form.

After capturing a series of shots of a seagull pecking at a stray French fry beside your feet—its feathers ruffling gently in the salty breeze—you felt a small surge of satisfaction. The gull was engrossed in its meal, oblivious to your presence, allowing you to document its simple pleasure, the sight of it quite funny to you. Just as you raised the camera, a shadow filled your viewfinder, causing you to flinch slightly. Startled, you realized that JJ's face had come into sudden, unexpected focus, his features accentuated by the golden hues of the setting sun.

Your heart skipped a beat as you lowered the camera shakily, fingers trembling ever so slightly. Adjusting your glasses, you looked up to find JJ standing startlingly close, his baby blue eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn't quite decipher. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the distant crash of waves and the call of seagulls fading into the background. A flush of heat crawled up your neck. Anxiety twisted in your stomach like a coiled serpent. Had he noticed you taking pictures of him earlier? The mere thought sent a cold rush through your veins, making you almost queasy. The idea of him confronting you for your inadvertent creepiness was mortifying.

JJ came to a halt a few feet away from you, his eyes fixed on you. He stood there for a moment, studying your face, the way your eyes glanced at him nervously behind the frames of your glasses. He could see the anxiety written all over your face.

"Hey, mouse."

He said in his usual cocky and confident tone. He hoped he didn’t look as unsure as he actually was.

"Uh hey.." you said in an unsure tone, letting your camera dangle from your neck lazily, the strap snug around your neck. He was still calling you 'mouse', so he remembered the other night at the party, and the whole ordeal of getting shoved in a closet together. Of course he did, it's not everyday you get locked into a small space with a socially inept stranger.

JJ stuck his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning you up and down. He watched as you lowered your camera, letting it dangle from your neck. He couldn’t help but notice the way you fidgeted with the strap, seemingly uncomfortable with him being so close.

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, his face wearing a slight smirk. "So, taking pictures of seagulls now, huh?"

"It was eating a french fry.." you laughed weakly, pointing vaguely to the spot where the seagull was just a few moments ago. The little fucker had flown away, leaving you pointing to an empty space on the sand beside your feet. Suddenly the notion of it eating a french fry wasn't as funny anymore.

JJ let out a soft scoff, a small smile forming on his face. He looked at the spot you pointed to, where the seagull had once been.

"A seagull eating a french fry is picture-worthy to you?"

He raised an eyebrow, teasing you.

You nodded mutely, fidgeting with the strap of the camera nervously.

JJ watched as you fidgeted with the camera strap, your nervousness apparent. He couldn’t help but find your shy and awkward behavior interesting, although he would never admit that out loud.

"So, why seagulls and starfish and all that?" he asked, genuinely curious about your interest in taking photographs of mundane things.

You shrugged, gnawing at your bottom lip. The mention of the starfish made your ears perk up, 'so he was watching me for a little longer and more intently, if he saw me take a picture of the starfish.' you observed internally. The thought almost made you excited. "They look interesting.." you stated simply, humming faintly.

JJ's eyes lingered on you as you gnawed at your bottom lip, the action making him feel something in the pit of his stomach. He watched as your brows seemed to perk up slightly when he mentioned the starfish, silently finding that quite adorable. He had been watching you more intently than he would like to admit, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to your behavior.

He raised an eyebrow at your simple response, still watching you. "Interesting, huh? Interesting how?"

You stepped closer hesitantly, flicking through the pictures until you landed on the starfish, tilting the camera screen so he could study the picture himself, your actions silent. You watched his face as he leaned in studying the picture curiously, taking the time to study him, while he studied your picture. He was breathtaking. He smelled like cheap beer and his usual smell of ocean water and weed.

JJ furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in closer to the camera screen, his eyes scanning the picture of the starfish that you had taken.

He had to admit, the picture was pretty damn good. The way you had captured the textures and colors of the starfish was fascinating, and he found himself looking at it intently.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, his eyes flicking up to your face as he continued to study the picture.

"Damn, you really know how to use a camera."

JJ continued to watch your face as he looked at the picture, noticing the way you observed him silently. He wondered what was going on in that shy brain of yours, and part of him felt almost nervous under your gaze.

Finally, he looked up from the camera and at your face again. He had to admit, there was something about your eyes that was oddly captivating.

"You take pictures like this often?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity.

A small smile made its way onto your face at his compliment. You hated taking compliments when it came to your photography or any of your other hobbies, but with JJ it seemed like it was almost welcome. Maybe your were just biased since he was the object of your pathetic pinning for almost 9 years.

You nodded, your mind wandering to how you took pictures of him secretly and you felt creepy again. It was a bad feeling, you hated it, you truly just liked how he looked through a camera and that's how you captured your love for him. Poets and painters used their paints and words and you... You used your camera.

JJ noticed the small smile that graced your lips as he complimented you, and he found himself feeling strangely satisfied with himself.

He knew that receiving compliments was probably not your thing, considering how shy and reserved you were, but he couldn’t help but want to keep drawing those smiles out of you. He found himself weirdly drawn to the way your face lit up when you were happy.

He watched as your eyes lost focus for a moment, a hint of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on flickering across your face. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, wondering what you were thinking about, seemingly an occurring thought the longer he spent around you. You seemed to go to your own world for a moment, a subtle shift in your expression, an almost sad look in your eyes.

He took the opportunity to study your face yet again, his eyes tracing every detail. The way your eyelashes flickered, the way you gnawed at your bottom lip, the way your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your camera.

He wanted to ask you what you were thinking about, but he hesitated. Would you even tell him? He knew that you weren’t exactly comfortable in his presence and you always seemed a bit shy around him, but for some reason he wanted to know what was going on in your head.

He decided to try his luck, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"What’s on your mind, mouse?"

Your eyes snapped to his again, blinking a couple of times. You shrugged slowly pressing your lips in a thin line, "nothing.."

JJ’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched you snap back to reality, your eyes meeting his again. He could tell that you weren’t being completely honest, he could see it in the way you pressed your lips together.

He took a step closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew you were hiding something, but he wasn’t sure what. "I call bs, mouse. Spill it."

"Are you this forward and personal space invading with every stranger?" you found yourself asking softly, surprised at how easily the words just rolled out of your mouth. Maybe it was the fact that you were nervous and you felt cornered. And besides you still sounded like a weak and quiet whimp. Your response gave you deja-vu.

JJ raised an eyebrow at your response, surprised that you had actually said something to him that wasn’t a simple one-word answer. He was even more surprised that you had actually called him out.

He took another step closer, leaning in slightly, his eyes still on your face.

"No, I usually don’t care about what strangers are thinking. But you’re different, mouse." He paused, continuing to observe you. He was standing pretty close now, but he wasn’t backing away.

You hummed nodding, taking a small step back to put some distance between the 2 of you. Close proximity wasn't your thing, especially when the other person was none other than JJ.

You probably looked rude, your body language was probably giving off repulsion, but you were just so shy and flustered, and you didn't want to look like a dumbass in front of him by stuttering and blushing like a schoolgirl. That would be so embarrassing, god. If you and JJ kept interacting, you'd probably end up getting a nose-bleed.

JJ watched as you took a step back, creating some distance between you. He noticed the way you seemed on edge, your body language giving off a repellant vibe. He knew from experience that you were probably just feeling shy and flustered, which was understandable given how shy you usually were around him.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for invading your personal space like that. But, he also was enjoying the fact that he was making you so flustered. The two feelings were crashing with each other in his brain and he wasn't sure if he liked that. "Sorry, mouse. Didn’t mean to crowd you."

Every time he was apologetic about something he did without meaning, which he thought made you uncomfortable, your heart fluttered for him. He seemed so much more different with you, in the 2 times you had interacted, like actually interacted. That made you like him more if it was possible. You were absolutely, mind bogglingly whipped for this dude, and what was even funnier- He had no idea. Absolutely comical.

You were silent as you stared up at him for a few seconds, before speaking up softly trying to reassure him as best as you could, "it's okay.. don't worry."

JJ listened carefully as you spoke, your soft voice sending a strange flutter through his chest. He noticed the look in your eyes as you looked up at him, and it made his stomach do a little flip.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing. He didn’t usually care this much about a stranger, but something about you had him completely enthralled. "Okay, mouse. I’ll try not to get too up in your personal space again."

He said, his voice softer than usual.

JJ stared at you for a few more moments, taking in your features. The way your hair fell softly in around your face, braided into two loose braids, the way you continued to fidget with the strap of your camera, the way your lips parted just slightly as you breathed quietly.

He found himself feeling oddly drawn to you, and he didn’t quite understand why. He had always thought of you as just "that shy girl from the country club," but now he was starting to realize that there might be more to you than he first thought. Maybe he shouldn't judge the people at the country club so quickly. 'What a dumbass conclusion to come to, 'm not prejudiced..'

He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

You knew that JJ didn't care about personal space much, given you saw how he interacted with his friends or even girls he was trying to chat up at parties or around town. So his reassurance actually meant something to you. Although you kinda wanted him to invade your personal space now, despite knowing you'll probably die on the spot.

You studied him intently too, the way his blonde hair almost glowed in the sunlight and the way it was ruffled gently by the breeze. His eyelashes and those blue eyes which you loved to photograph so much when you had the chance. You suddenly wanted to make him laugh somehow, to also see the small dimple on his right cheek, but that was wishful thinking given you were just standing there mutely. Nothing was charmingly funny about being awkwardly quiet.

With the 2 of you standing there silently, just studying each other, JJ couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes scanned over his face. He wasn’t used to someone staring at him so intently, especially someone he didn’t know very well.

He wasn’t sure what you were thinking in that brain of yours, but the intensity of your gaze made his stomach do another weird flutter.

He cleared his throat once again, breaking the silence.

"So, uh... you like taking pictures, huh?" he almost face-palmed from how obvious that question was, especially with the camera dangling from your neck, basically rolling its eyes at him as soon as the words left his lips. What the hell was happening to him? Why couldn't he socialize properly?

You let out a huff of genuine amused laughter at his obvious question. You shook the camera gently as if it to say 'what gave it away,' studying his slightly awkward stance. Never in 8 years of liking him, have you ever seen JJ Maybank actually awkard. Of course he'd be awkward around you, that's what happened when people spoke to you.

"No i just carry the camera for bragging rights..." you spoke up suddenly, your tone sarcastic and amused but still soft and quiet.

JJ couldn’t help but smile slightly as you quietly laughed at his question. He felt another spark of satisfaction at himself upon hearing the surprisingly pleasant sound.

He raised an eyebrow at your sarcastic response, his smile turning into a smirk.

"Bragging rights? Damn, mouse. Didn’t peg you for the cocky type."

You shrugged, feigning smugness as you shifted awkwardly in your spot, looking up at him.

"Why?... i mean why are you asking me if i like taking pictures.." you spoke up again, blinking quickly, silently cursing yourself for stuttering a bit as you gathered the courage to ask the simple question.

He noticed the way you shifted awkwardly, and the slight stutter in your voice as you spoke. He could tell that you were uncomfortable, but he didn’t quite understand why. He just wanted to get to know you better.

JJ chuckled softly, his smirk widening a bit.

"Just making conversation, mouse. Plus, I figure something this expensive has got to mean something to you."

He gestured to the camera around your neck.

"It does... my mom got it for me." you spoke softly, looking down at your camera and adjusting your glasses.

You still remembered how happy you were when you got the camera, finally able to capture as many pictures of things you liked but couldn't quite put into your paintings. Although your relationship with your mom and parents in general was a little-.. Strained at the moment, you loved the camera as much as you loved your board, the two constantly battling for second best in your heart. Obviously JJ was first best.

He listened as you spoke softly, his gaze softening as he watched you look down at your camera.

He could sense there was more to the story than just "my mom got it for me," but he didn't push you. He knew that you were a private person, and he didn't want to push you too far out of your comfort zone.

He took a step closer to you, his hand darting out to gently touch the camera around your neck.

"Your mom has good taste."

JJ watched as you flinched slightly as he touched the camera, and he quickly pulled his hand back.

He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he took a half step back again, giving you some space.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up again, his voice softer than before. "Why do you take pictures of things like starfish and seagulls?"

You were surprised as he took a step closer, startled that he wanted to touch your old camera, but the feeling melted into disappointment when he stepped back.

"To paint them. It's much easier when the thing you're trying to paint doesn't move." you explained gently, you didn't have the courage to start painting him though. Across these years you took so many pictures but never actually had the courage to try and paint him.

JJ nodded slowly, understanding your reason for taking pictures of such mundane things. It made sense to him that you needed a still subject. He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, his eyes locking with yours for a moment.

"You paint? What kind of stuff do you paint other than starfish and seagulls?"

"Scenery... my family... random things I like..." you listed awkwardly, your words trailing off as a faint blush warmed your cheeks. Humming in thought, you tilted your head back to gaze at the endless expanse of sky. Wisps of cotton candy clouds drifted lazily across the azure canvas, and the soft hues of twilight began to creep in. The vivid images of the paintings flooded back into your mind—rolling hills bathed in golden sunlight, candid snapshots of laughter-filled family gatherings, and close-ups of everyday objects that held secret significance.

JJ watched as you hummed in thought, your eyes cast up to the sky. He could tell you were thinking about your paintings, and he found himself wanting to see your paintings. He was curious about what your art looked like.

He cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him.

"Have you ever painted a person?"

"Aside from my family? no..." you mumbled, your eyes setting into his once again. Maisy was an exception, sometimes she forced you to paint her. Your favorite painting of her was of her one morning, with a massive hangover, makeup ruined and strawberry blonde hair sticking out in every direction.

He nodded slowly, noticing the way your eyes set into his. There was something about your gaze that was both captivating and nerve wracking at the same time.

He took a small step closer to you, and for some reason, he couldn't stop the words from falling out of his mouth.

"What would you paint if I were a still subject?"

"What do you mean?" you asked a bit confused, swallowing a small lump that was threatening to form in your throat.

JJ smiled slightly at your confusion, amused by how innocent and naive you could be sometimes.

He took another step forward, closing the distance between the two of you even more.

"I mean, if I sat completely still and acted as your still subject, what would you paint? Like, would you paint a portrait of me or something different?"

"Oh.. probably your eyes." you spoke without realizing, your eyes snapping up from the sand under your sneakers to look up at him with a slight panicked look. The response was vague and what you meant to say was: 'you'd paint a portrait of him' but the words came out weirdly.

JJ's eyebrows raised in surprise at your words. He wasn't expecting your answer to be so direct, but it honestly made him feel weirdly giddy.

He leaned in a bit closer to you, his eyes narrowed slightly. "My eyes? Why my eyes?"

"Well they're blue." 'yeah dumbass.. he knows his eyes are blue.' you scolded your self internally for your simple and dumb answer.

You resisted the urge to face palm at the simple and quiet statement whipped out in a nervous rush, just staring at him blankly, fidgeting with your glasses.

JJ chuckled at your response. He didn't know why, but he found it amusing that you answered his question with such a simple and obvious answer. He couldn't help but tease you a bit. "Yeah, I'm aware they're blue."

He said, his voice sarcastic and amused. He took another step closer, now standing only a foot away from you. He could almost see the panic in your eyes.

You felt like a dumbass. Who has the conversation skills of a baked potato? you seriously needed to get it together this was absolutely pathetic. His teasing statement didn't help how you felt either, growing more embarrassed as he spoke, the tips of your ears burning from being so flustered.

JJ could see the way you were mentally kicking yourself for your simple response. He found it slightly endearing how flustered and anxious you were at the moment, just because he was close to you and you couldn't string together a coherent sentence to save your life. It made him want to tease you even more.

He leaned in slightly closer, his face now only inches away from yours, his breath lightly touching your cheek.

"You know, you're adorable when you're nervous, mouse."

Which is all the time-... what? did he just? Refer to you as adorable? You felt as if your heart stopped for a second and started beating way too fast at the same time, your face heating up visually probably. You were so PATHETIC, ugh. Why couldn't you just take conversations in stride, just like he did, or any other fucking normal human on this planet?

JJ could see the way your face flushed with color, and it only made his smile widen. He found it incredibly endearing how flustered and anxious you were, and he was enjoying every second of it.

He reached up, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're blushing, mouse. Why are you so nervous around me all the time, hm?"

"I'm nervous around... everyone." you choked out, cursing yourself mentally once again for sounding so affected. It was seriously comical. You were wondering how he wasn't making fun of you by now. Also the tender gesture made your insides melt even more, despite hating when people touched your hair.

His smile softened at your admission, feeling a pang of sympathy for you. He didn't realize that you were nervous around everyone, he thought it was just him. He hummed softly, his hand still gently fiddling with the strand of hair he was holding.

"Everyone, huh? Why? Don't you have friends who make you feel less nervous?"

He continued to study your face, noticing the way your eyes darted around nervously and the way your cheeks were flushed a pretty pink color. He could see the anxiety in your expression, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Part of him wanted to tease you even more, but another part of him wanted to reassure you that everything was okay.

"You know, mouse, you don't have to be so nervous all the time. I don't bite. Well, not hard anyway."

You sighed, your fingers nervously twisting a loose strand of hair around them. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't help it—you always clammed up like this. Words seemed to get stuck in your throat, despite the whirlpool of thoughts swirling in your mind. It was worse now, with JJ standing right in front of you; his mere presence amplified your anxiety, turning your usually rowdy internal monologue into static.

Your gaze shifted to the side, drifting over his shoulder. You noticed his friends in the distance, trying to get his attention. They were waving in your direction, their gestures frantic and eyes wide with impatience. Gathering a bit of courage, you pointed shakily toward them, your eyes meeting his briefly as you did so. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, your heartbeat echoing in your ears as you waited for his reaction. A flush crept up your neck, the tension between wanting to say something—anything—and the frustrating quiet that held your tongue.

JJ followed your gaze looking over his shoulder, his eyes landing on his friends in the distance. He could see them waving and gesturing for him to come back, and he knew they were probably wondering what the hell he was doing.

He hesitated for a moment, torn between staying with you and going back to his friends. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Looks like my friends are getting impatient."

He let out a small sigh, not wanting to leave you just yet. But he knew he had to go back to his friends eventually, otherwise they'd just come over and drag him away.

He gave you one last glance, taking in your nervous expression. He smiled softly, his hand still lingering beside your ear. "I'll see you around, mouse. Don't disappear on me, okay?"

You were feeling disappointed that he had to leave. But you let a relieved breath out as he took a small step back. The close proximity was making your breathing go crazy and stuttery and your face heat up. You glanced at his friends and then at him, your eyes lingering on his face in an almost awe expression before nodding and humming, your hands fidgeting with the strap of your camera.

JJ couldn't help but notice the way your eyes lingered on his face, and he felt a small flutter in his chest at the expression on your face. He wasn't used to someone looking at him like that, especially you. He gave you one last smile, his hand reaching out to gently pat your head before he reluctantly took a step away from you.

"Behave yourself, mouse."

He said with a smirk and a wink before turning and strolling back to his friends.

As soon as his back was turned to you and he was walking back to his friends you let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding. Your hands reached up to fan your face gently, walking along the beach in the opposite direction.

You could definitely get used to interacting with JJ alone, have him look at you and call you mouse like that in his soft tone despite his boyish voice. Although the nickname was meant to be teasing, you still felt your heart do somersaults every time he called you it casually.

As JJ walked back to his friends, he found himself unable to keep his mind off of the interaction he just had with you. He couldn't get the image of your blushing face and wide-eyed expression out of his head.

His friends quickly pounced on him the moment he returned to them, their voices loud and excited.

"Dude, what was that all about?"

JB asked, his eyes widening with curiosity.

Pope chimed in with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah man, since when do you talk to the girl who's terrified of you?"

JJ shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing.

"I don't know, I was just making conversation." All four of his friends looked at him skeptically, not buying his casual response.

John B leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper so that no one else could hear their conversation.

"Do you like her or something?"

JJ's eyes widened in surprise at the question, and he quickly shook his head, trying to play it off.

"No way, man.. What, are we in 7th grade to be asking these types of questions?"

—♡‧

A/N: Here's the second chapter! God, you guys don't understand how happy i am. What do you think about the second interaction? I appreciate when you comment, or leave asks telling me what you think, so don't be shy! these can be read as stand-alone one-shots too but this is gonna be an entire story. Also i don't plan on following the main story-line of the show :( This and all my works will be written freely because i wanna give JJ the life of a teenager instead of a treasure hunter.

Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen Have fun reading every one and I'll be seeing you all in part 3!

[beesgobzzzing]

Article translation

Hooja and Käärijä are performing together for the first time in the first semifinal of Melodifestivalen in Luleå. Maybe Hooja will be participating in Melodifestivalen for real in the future:

You never know, Hooja says. [Bees note: Their manager said in a podcast during the fall last year that they were not interested in competing in Melodifestivalen, so this is definitely a politicians answer.]

Among feather boas and pink sequins, dressed in their particular fur hats, baklavas and fleece jackets, Hooja and DJ Mårdhund has arrived in Luleå Energi Arena. [Bees note: Mårdis and myself has referenced this as Coop Arena before, and that used to be it's name. Like many arenas elsewhere, this one also takes it's name from their main sponsor, which changes every now and then.] They are debuting in Melodifestivalen. They do have someone who has a lot of experience from this setting with them - Finnish Eurovision favorite Käärijä. But they're not taking part in the actual competition.

Together they are here as an interval act in Melodifestivalen's first semi in Luleå, where they are performing their new song "San Francisco Boy".

The trio has taken a break in show preparations and sit down on some chairs by one of the arena entrances. Käärijä is not wearing a mask, but does wear sunglasses just like the duo from Gällivare.

You're a bit secretive, and I think it's fun to work with artists who don't only have the music but another level to it. You have nice clothes too, Käärijä says.

Outside the glass doors another masked artist, Fröken Snusk [Bees note: her artist name translates to Miss Dirty], appears and waves to her coworkers before she once again disappears into the darkness.

Why are you making a song together?

Why not? I listened to Hooja's music and thought "oh, Swedish music can sound like this". Of course in a positive way, Käärijä says and laughs.

He says it's not always easy to make music with other artists. But the collaboration with Hooja has been painless.

Everything went so quick from meeting for the first time until we had a finished song, DJ Mårdhund says.

It was destiny, Hooja adds.

(Text under the picture: Käärijä has watched Melodifestivalen at home in Finland and is happy that he gets to enter the stage in Sweden with Hooja. "Dreams can become true", DJ Mårdhund notes.)

That the song is called "San Francisco Boy" has nothing to do with anyone from the trio having been there.

We have seen San Francisco in pictures, very nice pictures in my opinion. They have a nice and big bridge, DJ Mårdhund says.

Maybe we should go there together and make "San Francisco Boy part 2", Käärijä says.

Käärijä competed for Finland in Eurovision in 2023 with the song "Cha Cha Cha". He came in second after Sweden and Loreen's song "Tattoo". Being in Melodifestivalen now is not something he minds.

It's fun, I love Loreen, and I like you too, Käärijä says and points at Hooja.

He won the audience vote in Eurovision and quickly became a fan favorite. Not least of all in Sweden, where his song climbed the charts. He wasn't quite prepared for the love from the Swedish audience.

There were a lot of Swedish people who wrote to me and said they liked my song. I didn't think Swedish people liked Finnish music, but it was really nice to see that the song charted so well in Sweden.

The trio has a very full schedule during these few days in Luleå. Hooja describes the whole event as "hullaballoo".

There are a lot of people running around but it's a fun show, he says.

Being the interval act together with Käärijä feels safe, according to the duo.

It feels good having you here, you've done this kind of thing before, Mårdis says and looks at Käärijä:

You're almost being a father figure for us.

But will being the interval act this year make Hooja want to compete for real in Melodifestivalen in the future?

You never know. We are not going to say: No, we would never do that. But we're not going to give a definite yes either, Hooja says.

Wow, what a politician's answer, DJ Mårdhund says.

Maybe I should get into politics instead, Hooja says.

[kaptainandy]

Okay okay okay hold up! You are definitely on to something here! I think Jack being a teen when he moved in is actually very plausible especially because of a detail about the Kelly family that has been in the back of my mind that I didn't know what to make of until now.

I should preface I haven't gotten around to watching/listening TASP so they could've touched on what I'm about to bring up. ANYWAY, why do Bonnie, Jack, and Charlie all having the surname Kelly? This wouldn't have been a question if it hadn't been for the introduction of Shelley Kelly.

What I'm getting at is, before Shelley, it could be assumed Kelly was Bonnie's maiden name. But since she shares the last name with Shelley, we can assume she took on his name for whatever reason (more speculation on that later). And if that's the case, Jack would theoretically still have Bonnie's maiden name as his surname, not Kelly.

So, this brings me to the two possibilities:

a) Bonnie's maiden name actually is Kelly and it was coincidence that Shelley had the same last name, thus explaining Jack's surname being the same as well. Possible, because it's not an unpopular last name, plus it was used as a way to clue the viewers in during the Ireland episode that this Shelley Kelly guy is almost definitely related to Charlie. However, if them sharing a last name was coincidence, I feel like one of the character's would've said something like, "damn Charlie what are the odds?" kinda comment. If it was meant to be played for humor it seems odd RCG would gloss over that since it wouldn't click for most people if not explicitly stated.

or

b) Bonnie changed her last name to Shelley's, as is tradition in both the US and UK. Now this could mean that they were either married, or Bonnie changed her name in an attempt at bonding Charlie to his dad, or some other reason. Reason aside, it would make a lot more sense that Jack would have his last name changed too if he was a teenager as opposed to a grown man.

Assuming Jack was a teenager and Bonnie was taking him in - especially in the event of escaping an abusive household - she likely legally adopted him/took legal guardianship of him. Especially in the US, Bonnie being his legal guardian makes getting healthcare, enrolling in school, etc. way easier for her to accomplish for Jack. Aside from the legal aspect, she likely would also want to ingratiate her brother into their household and sharing a name would definitely make him feel like he belonged. And in the event Bonnie and Jack's parent(s)/guardian(s) were abusive, it makes sense they would want to distance themselves any way they could.

As for why Bonnie would change her surname in the first place, my guess is she was desperate to have Shelley in Charlie's life and despite his obvious disinterest, she deluded herself enough to thinking changing her name would convince him to stay. This is simply my theory and could be speculated about all day so I'm curious what y'all think.

As to why Bonnie kept the surname Kelly despite Shelley being a deadbeat? I imagine the main reason for this is she did it for Charlie. Bonnie was very encouraging of Shelley and Charlie having a relationship via letters and whether or not she told Charlie (or assumed he knew) Shelley was his father, sharing a surname is likely another attempt at connecting them.

Additionally, maybe sharing a surname would make pushing for child support - especially in an international case, and doubly so if the couple was never actually married - and other aid from the father an easier process. This point is just very loose conjecture on my part as I am a dumb dumb and only have a less than flimsy grasp on US law at best, let alone international law. But I digress.

I say all this to strengthen the case that Kelly is not the original shared surname of Bonnie and Jack and that Jack's name was changed when he legally became the dependant of Bonnie. And that, again, would really only make sense if he was a teenager at the time.

Also another point: if we assume the characters are close in age to the actors that play them, Lynne Marie Stewart was born in 1946. If Bonnie's birth year is around the same time that makes her ~30 years older than Jack. If that's the case, then perhaps Jack wasn't leaving an abusive household, but rather was left orphaned after their last surviving parent/guardian passed.

In conclusion, thanks to OP I will be thinking about the Kelly Family Situation nonstop for the foreseeable future and what this means for the characters. Thank you OP for providing me a link to attach this random detail to a theory that has poured fuel on my hyperfixation.

I hope I'm not forgetting some detail that explains this all away because I do not wanna look like boo boo the fucking fool who just typed all this out lmao

Somehow I never really realized that Andrew Friedman and Charlie Day only have a 5 year age difference between them (I assumed it was closer to 10 years), and I realized I've kinda always assumed Uncle Jack was a grown adult when he moved in with the Kellys, when Charlie was a kid (perhaps incorrectly?)

Is Uncle Jack supposed to be canonically significantly older than Andrew Friedman is? Or is he actually cast to his age and supposed to be in his early thirties in Season 1? (I don't think there's an actual answer here, they don't age him in the script or discuss it in the TASP episode.)

But I'm wondering: do you guys automatically assume Uncle Jack is significantly older than Charlie? Or am I alone in just, like, ignoring the actor's actual age and defaulting him to, more or less, looking as he did in Season 1 when Charlie was a kid?

We don't really know the circumstances of Jack originally moving in with Bonnie and Charlie, but now realising their age difference, Jack actually being fairly young when he moved in with them almost, upsettingly, makes more sense than him being a grown adult at the time:

Bonnie taking in her much younger, teen brother (in some absence of her parents being able to care for him, or even paying her to take care of him instead) and sticking him in her son's room would logically make way more sense than if he were a grown man at the time. In many ways, she would see these acts as good deeds: becoming a caretaker to her brother and giving her son a pseudo-brother (who seemed to be happy to love and protect him), which would almost explain why she cannot accept (or even fathom) that this instead resulted in inflicting extreme trauma on her son.

Similarly, the closer age difference between Jack and Charlie would account more for Bonnie being able to turn a blind eye/take Uncle Jack's side when it comes to the "wrestling" comments. If Jack was a grown adult, it's hard not to not raise an eyebrow at, but you would almost expect that a teenage boy would be rowdy with his nephew, and that they would playfight, if not actual fight, quite often while sharing a small space. Conceivably, Bonnie really wouldn't have stopped to question the relationship between Jack and Charlie at the time if he was her displaced teen brother, as opposed to her strange adult brother.

[forcepushthinker]

Bathroom Shenanigans

"A trans girl got great head here." The third bathroom stall in their favourite bar. Astrid had stared at the graffiti a lot over the months. She didn't remember who wrote it, if she had ever been told, but she was acutely aware that so many of her friends have followed in its footsteps over the past year. "A trans girl got great head here." The sentence, so simple in its execution had given her so many titillating thoughts of being one of the trans girls that had given head here. Not that she had ever given head before. She was actually terrified by the thought that she might suck at it. Pun absolutely intended. But she wanted it badly, if only she had anyone to do it with.

"Astrid? You in here?" Christine. Astrid had spent weeks trying to flirt with her, trying to be obvious enough without telling her directly "Please, would you fuck me?" She suddenly realised that she was all alone in the bathroom. No one else of the few patrons tonight was in here with her, only Christine. Her heart began to beat faster. What did Christine want? There was only one way to find out. "Um, yes. Back here. What's up?" She saw by the shadows on the floor that Christine was now standing directly in front of the stall she was in.

"Can I come in?" What? Did she actually hear that? Was she serious? Her hand moved like on auto pilot, as she watched herself reach for the lock and open the door. Christine sidled in carefully and looked down at her with a playful smile on her lips. "I hope you don't mind, I was thinking maybe you'd like some company." Astrid was screaming internally. Yes! Yes, she did. Was this really it? Would she finally get her chance at playing with Christine? She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks. "It was kind of empty in here." Smooth. She was proud of the fact that she managed to keep her voice steady despite her heart beating out of her chest. "What did you have in mind?"

Christine reached out and placed her hand on Astrid's cheek. "We've been talking quite a bit lately about maybe hooking up, so I was wondering if you might be interested in finally going there." She gently tilted Astrid's head upwards so their eyes could meet. She could see that Christine was serious, without giving any sign that no would not be an option. Not that Astrid had any intention of declining the offer. She smiled up at Christine and replied softly, "And here I thought I might have been too subtle. I would love to try that."

Astrid reached out and began to undo Christine's pants, until her half erect girlcock flopped out of her clothes. She didn't hesitate for a moment and, while pulling Christine closer with her left hand, carefully gripped her cock with her right. With a smile on her face she leaned forward, closed her eyes and opened her mouth, sealing her lips around the head and sucking it into her mouth, causing Christine's foreskin to remain at her lips and her tip to slip into her mouth. Christine uttered a satisfied "Mmh." as Astrid sucked the head of her cock into her mouth and began to run her tongue along the underside of the tip and around the neck of the head.

Astrid was incredibly excited. This was the first time she had ever given head to another trans girl, the first time she had ever handled another penis than her own. Christine's lustful reaction encouraged her, quickly forgetting her fear that she might turn out to be lousy at sucking a girl's dick, reinforced by feeling Christine get hard inside her mouth. She closed her lips firmly around Christine's shaft, pressed her tongue against the bottom of the head, pushing it against the top of her mouth and began to move closer towards Christine's crotch, pushing her girlcock deeper towards her throat. She had no idea how to deepthroat, or if she would even be able to do it, but she wanted to take as much of it as she could. Her mind became fuzzy, as she lost herself in the act, moving her head back and forth. Having forgotten where they were, she became a little insecure about a lack of feedback from Christine, but her doubts were quickly erased, when she felt Christine place her hand on her head. Christine began to breathe heavily as she held Astrid's head more firmly and began to reciprocate with thrusting her dick into Astrid's mouth. Slowly, with short movements at first, and faster and deeper with each successive thrust. Astrid's mind began to melt, as she thought lustfully "Yes, throat fuck me, please."

Astrid had fantasised about sucking a girl's dick for quite a while, and while she had gotten excited at the thought every time, she had never thought that it could actually give her such levels of pleasure too, to just have a girl's cock in her mouth. And yet here she was, sitting on the toilet in her favourite bar, her skirt down at her ankles, and she was loving every second of it. Her breath had gotten heavy and she was struggling to suppress the ecstatic moans that welled up in her throat. She was happy for the obstruction in her mouth that helped her keep the passionate noises down, lest they might get discovered before Christine could finish.

Astrid had firmly gripped Christine's hips by now, greedily sucking her cock as far down her throat as she could, while Christine continued to counter thrust Astrid's sucking motions. If Christine felt only half as good about any of this as Astrid did, she turned out to not nearly be as bad at it as she had feared.

Christine was beginning to get close and whispered hotly to Astrid, "Oh god, yes! Keep going." Astrid lost all restraint at this point. She wanted to make Christine come like nothing else. She had never expected the act of sucking another trans girl off to cause such unbridled lust in her. She felt like she would burst in ecstasy if Christine would come down her throat right now. Astrid kept moving, sucking Christine's cock down her throat with a passion she had never felt before, stimulating Christine's tip with her tongue, begging for her to shoot her hot load into her mouth and letting her swallow it all. She wanted that so much, she couldn't wait. "Please give me your cum, give it to me right now! I want it, I want it all, please!" she thought.

"Yes! Oh fuck!" That was what Astrid had been waiting to hear. She continued to play with Christine's dick in her mouth, waiting desperately, and refusing to let go until she could get every last drop off of her. Then she felt it. The pressure with which Christine came surprised her, but she didn't flinch, she didn't let Christine pull out, as she felt Christine's cum flow over her tongue and fill her mouth. She hadn't expected there to be that much, but she deeply enjoyed the sensation and the taste of Christine's juice in her mouth. With Christine's cock still between her lips, she swallowed deeply, her tongue brushing around Christine's head, causing her to shiver as she felt Astrid continuing to caress her cock despite her having finished. Sucking back, Astrid pulled Christine from her mouth with a sloppy wet plop, and looked up at her with a dreamy smile on her lips. She couldn't hold in a little giggle and said "Damn, that was really exciting. I really liked that."

"Yeah, I could feel that." Christine smiled at her and placed her hand under Astrid's chin, as she pulled her off the seat, meeting her lips on the way up and pushing her tongue deep into Astrid's mouth. Astrid let out a shy laugh, as they separated, feeling affirmed in her role as a bottom. She was absolutely sure she was a switch, now more than ever, and she was determined to make this newfound bottom part of herself a permanent fixture that would extremely enjoy to explore further.

As she pulled up her skirt and unlocked the door once more, she smiled at Christine and cheekily said "Maybe next time I can turn around for you."

[peapodbond]

that was us part eight

aka fuck it friday

tagged by @leashybebes

skipping ahead a few parts because i can and i want to. aka 7x05 as seen through the lens of the former fiancee/current besties abbysaltommy text thread

abby texting, tommy texting, sal texting

so, how was the first date?

turns out evan is not out to anyone.

it was his first 'date with a dude', but he's an ally.

sounds like a train wreck. (sorry, abby)

that part was oddly okay? it was adorable.

his best friend showed up at the same restaurant on a date with his girlfriend. evan said that we were 'going to pick up hot chicks later'.

i ducked out of going to the movie and just went straight home after dinner.

sal, cue us up a grindr best of lineup.

wait, i want to know what tommy said about the hot chicks.

not proud of it but i made a closet joke. the friend's girlfriend is moving in so it wasn't out of nowhere. i don't think any of them caught it, actually. but it made me feel a little better.

that's my boy!

you're a menace, sal. at least it was on the first date, tommy? it could have been worse.

mm. this feels like a sign that i should take a break from dating.

as opposed to the absolute bevy of dates you've been on recently?

sal, don't be mean. when was the last time you went on a date?

all right you two, no infighting. as fun as it is to watch you argue, i'm here for some moral support.

we can do that. hey, at least you can use the helicopter rescue to land dudes.

helicopter rescue? what helicopter rescue?

it's not a big deal.

tommy flew into a fucking hurricane and found a capsized cruise ship.

oh my god. days like this i miss la. nothing like this ever happens in phoenix.

i'm lucky i didn't get fired, okay? and we are not doing a grindr lineup. one bad date is not going to get me back on the apps.

you get one week to mope and then we're going for drinks and you're flirting with someone at the bar.

that's not a bad plan, sal. i approve.

at what point do i get a say in this?

you don't.

you don't.

their text thread sits quiet for a few days and abby debates asking tommy for more details. between jordan and marcus he hasn't had much to smile about, and even though he'd only met evan two weeks ago, the way that he'd talked about him… she'd really thought that tommy's luck was about to turn around.

they're driving tess to tucson for a college tour when she finally has enough time to text tommy separately.

it was one bad date abby, i'm fine.

yeah, but you liked him. like, really liked him.

i've really liked a few guys. and i've survived. we didn't even know each other for a full month. he'll just be a great kiss and a fun evening and that's the end of it.

a great kiss, huh?

i already told you that.

let's talk once we're back from the college tour? it's been a while.

sure, but you're signing up for a party viewing of love, actually.

double feature with die hard?

…evan just texted me.

what did he say?

do you want me to go fight him.

he wants to meet for coffee.

you should do it!

hm. at least you get a free cup of coffee. he is buying, right?

sal. yes, he's buying. i really liked him, you know? up until the hot chicks it was the best date i'd been on in… a while.

definitely go, tommy. you haven't said you had the best anything in a long time. abby thinks the last time she heard tommy say something was the best he'd ever had it was when she still lived in la (but after they broke up). if it's not great, it's just coffee. it's only going to be an hour or so.

i feel like someone should play devil's advocate but abby's got a point.

sal, how about i text you if i need you to fake an emergency and leave?

no, don't approach this like it's going to go badly!

works for me. i've always got you on speed dial, buddy.

you can hide any pitchforks the two of you might have found.

so it went well?

the question is how well it went.

sal.

sal.

what? just because he's not out doesn't mean they couldn't have some fun.

he actually did come out? to his best friend and his sister. we're going to try again and go on another date.

where's he taking you?

better be somewhere fancy.

i am not telling either one of you where it is. one of the delucas would try and pop up to spy on us.

i'm in pheonix, you can tell me separately.

it would be gina. definitely. she's small and sneaky.

they're not even denying it. you can find out where we're going after he's actually out to everyone.

sal, don't ruin this for us.

what? i'm being supportive.

so where's the date?

i'm not telling you.

why not?

because you'll tell gina and gina will tell sal and someone's going to pop up like a demented jack in the box.

i resent that implication.

because it's true?

see if i watch another romcom with you, tommy kinard.

that's a dirty lie, abby clark. listen, if we survive the second date then maybe i'll tell you two snoops more about him.

i'll let gina know ;)

i always regret introducing you two.

me and gina or me and sal?

all three of you.

here's hoping date number two is better than date one.

your lips, god's ears, etc etc.

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Hiiii I recently found your account and love your writing.

Would you be able to write something angsty for Levi where the reader gets seriously injured while out on a mission? I’d like it to be really angsty but whatever you want to do I’m good with!

Hi lovely anon, thank you so much for your kind words and this request!! I've dabbled in angst here and there, but this is definitely the darkest I've gone. I was surprised to find I really enjoyed writing it! Maybe there's more angst in my future hm...

Anyways THANK YOU again for sending this, I love hearing from readers and love requests! I'm sorry that it took me so long to get back to you, I hope you still see this and that you enjoy it if you do!

don't fall away from me: Levi x Scout!Reader angst

[tw: hurt/no comfort, heavy angst as requested!, injury/gore, spoilers for No Regrets, mentioned (not actual) vomiting // wc: 2k // ao3 // set before the fall of Shiganshina]

It wasn't often that you and Levi were separated for missions these days. A combination of luck and called-in favors from the Captain meant that most days and nights you were by each other's side, sometimes worse for wear, but together, at least.

But luck didn't last forever, and Levi wasn't all-powerful. You had been sent on a long-term mission beyond the walls, leading a troop of Scouts to establish an outpost farther than the Regiment had ever been able to put down roots. It was risky, but if successful, would pay off immediately, filling in new corners of the Eldian map. Levi stayed behind, part of Erwin's private detail as the Commander lobbied for more funding.

Levi hated it. Hated the pompous bastards he had to deal with, the tasteless displays of wealth in the inner walls, and worst of all, that it kept him from you. But you had reassured him as you always did, strong arms around his neck and soft lips against his. "I'll be home soon, Levi. Wait for me." He saw your squad off, raised his hand in a stern wave, watching until you and your horse disappeared over the horizon.

It wouldn't last forever, he reminded himself. You were tough. So was he- a few weeks away was nothing in the grand scheme of things. And he'd seen you take down enough titans to know that they should be afraid of you. The memory made his chest swell with a quiet pride. You were a damn good soldier, and you were his. He'd make sure to remind you of both when you came home.

That was the hope that kept Levi patient as he waited out the weeks. Once the political posturing was over, he took his stress out on the spiders that had taken up residence in the rafters of the scouts' barracks. Hange was heard laughing quietly to Moblit that HQ was always cleanest when you were away. Luckily for them, Levi didn't overhear, too busy chasing his worry away with a dustrag.

The morning of your squad's return dawned clear, the sun cresting the Walls like it anticipated your arrival as much as Levi did. The Captain had been up before then- fussing over his hair and straightening his cravat needlessly, wanting to appear cool and calm when he rode out to meet you. You were sure to tease him otherwise. It had become something of a game to see who could spot the other first at your homecomings, waiting just inside the gate or, if impatience got the best of you, riding out to meet the other on some pretense.

He sipped from the teacup between his fingers, hiding a smile as he thought about the look on your face. Your eyes always lit up, your grim on-duty expression melting into relief, excitement- love, when you saw him again. He was almost sure it was love. Little as he knew about the subject, anyway. Hoped it was, would've prayed it was if he had any faith. Because Levi loved you. He hadn't admitted it yet, but the weeks of separation had shown him just how much he had grown to rely on you, to cherish your shared moments, the light you shone in the dark corners of his life.

Maybe he didn't need to seem cool and calm, this time. He allowed himself to believe that you'd missed him as much as he missed you. That certainty carried the Captain to his horse, through the gates, out on a hard ride through the outskirts of the walled city, until he saw the blurry forms of your squad through the morning mist. His carefully fixed hair fell back into messy bangs across his forehead as he urged his horse faster, his body taut with both exertion and excitement. You were almost home.

He searched for your face in the crowd of green-cloaked soldiers to no avail. Maybe you were scouting ahead, or keeping watch from the rear. He shook off the icy tendrils of fear that crept down his neck. Surely that was all. Levi looked to the rest of your squad, but they didn't meet his eyes. Some of them limped, some held bandaged limbs, others leaned on their comrades. The tendrils turned into choking vines.

Levi reared his horse in front of the ragged procession and leveled them with a glare. "Where is she?" Silence. He gritted his teeth, his voice a sword. "I won't repeat myself."

A single Scout stepped out from the ranks. Levi recognized her as a young recruit; this would have been one of her first missions. She gestured at a covered wagon hitched to the horse behind her. "She saved us, Captain." The girl's voice wavered, then broke. "We wouldn't be here if she hadn't-"

Levi didn't know if she finished her sentence. He was already off his horse and shoving past her, his mind a wall of white noise. Somehow he was standing beside the wagon, ripping the cover back with shaking hands-

In the days and weeks that followed, every Scout from that ill-fated mission would swear on their lives that the Captain maintained his composure in that moment. Whether in solidarity or out of the fear that came from watching the collapse of something unbreakable. Every last person there that day would deny that they ever heard Levi sob.

The sound tore from him helplessly, choked horror in the back of his throat. Your bloodless lips were parted, your hair strewn across the packs of gear they’d propped you on. Your arms lay limply atop a rough blanket that hid everything below your chest. When Levi reached for your hand, pressing it to his cheek, you were cold. He whispered your name, but you didn’t stir.

With effort, Levi tore his gaze from your body and whirled on the soldier that had revealed you. “Tell me what happened.”

In fits and starts, she managed the story. It had happened so fast, she said, the night watch asleep in the newly constructed outpost, the early sunrise revealing a trio of titans surrounding the camp, all teeth and eager eyes. 15m class and hungry, scrabbling at their tents, waking up to a nightmare.

You had slept in your gear- Levi clenched his fists against a sudden surge of nausea. You always teased him about his habit, sleeping sitting up or fully clothed, ready for anything. But out there, on your own, you had done the same. Did you think of him as you fell asleep? The girl was still speaking, her gaze far away. You had sprung into action, using the titans themselves as anchors to fly at their nape out there in the vast flatness of the wild.

You dispatched two quickly- of course, Levi thought, of course she did- but the third- the girl stopped to drag the back of her hand across her mouth, swallowing a dry heave. Levi had to resist the urge to shake her, to make her keep talking- but she soon continued in a whisper.

"The last titan caught her in it's teeth. It was a blur, we didn't see, only heard a- heard a snap, and a scream... we cut it's Achilles tendons, brought it to it's knees, and she fell..." The scout trailed off, her jaw working soundlessly as she remembered. "The wound, wounds- they weren't clean, sir." Her voice was a strained apology. She wobbled, clearly spent, and Levi turned away.

He stepped back toward the wagon where you lay. Levi took a slow breath, reaching into the depths of himself to find the strength to look at what hid beneath the blanket. He peeled it back, hissing through his teeth when the fabric caught on patches of drying, tacky blood.

It took a moment for Levi to process what he was seeing. Your lower body was a torn mess of crimson, contrasting hideously against the stark white of exposed bone protruding from your mangled calf. He could see the titan's attack written on your flesh- the purpling crush of teeth along your thighs and the shredded aftermath of those jaws tearing down to your ankles. The smears of dirt and gore told him how you were dragged along, out of the titan's clenching jaw, off the battlefield.

This is a dream. A nightmare. Levi told himself, clinging to it with a childish desperation that he thought had been beaten out of him long ago. He tried to swallow but his throat had gone cotton-dry. His tongue cleaved mute to the roof of his mouth. This isn't real.

He blinked, and suddenly it was Furlan in your shredded uniform, or you in his. A dizzy panic clawed up Levi's chest. He shook his head, looked away and back- and the scene changed. The hollowed pallor of your cheeks was that of his mother's corpse, a dim memory of hell. He thought he might be sick, thought wildly that he couldn't vomit in front of the other Scouts, couldn't let them see such filthy weakness- but that was forgotten when you opened your eyes.

You stared blindly at the wide, wide sky, and Levi saw Isabel in your place. Not again. Please, not again. He watched your chest rise and fall like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth, like he was the one willing it to continue. Please.

"Le-vi...?" Your voice shocked him into sanity. He cupped your cheeks in trembling hands.

"I'm here, I'm here," he rasped. "I've got you. Stay with me."

You slowly dragged your fingers through the blood on your uniform, then held them in front of your face. You didn't seem to understand where it came from, what had happened. Levi moved into your sightline. You reached for him, but your head lolled and your arm fell back in the next instant. Levi caught your hand and lifted it the rest of the way, pressing your bloody fingers to his lips.

"I'm here," he repeated, fixated again on the defiant movement of your chest as you slipped back into unconsciousness. "I'll protect you."

The other soldiers were shuffling about, some trying to quiet their nervous horses. Levi forced himself to inject authority into his voice, to project some stability on the surface as he crumbled within, never taking his eyes from your face. "I'm riding back with you. Let's go."

Eager to go home, the camp moved quickly at his order. Someone hitched Levi's horse to the wagon were you lay, seeing that the Captain wasn't about to leave your side.

Your body seemed to shift before Levi's eyes, a mist poured into the shape of the ones he had already failed, already lost. Their corpses laid atop yours, or beside you, or sprawled at your feet until he forced them away, the sight of your breathing like a talisman. Your blood dried and flaked on his cheek, but he hardly felt the itch. His cravat lay abandoned on the filthy floor.

Every jolt of the wheels made him grit his teeth, fighting down a surge of rage at the horses, the stones that made them stumble, the ground itself for not softening for you. He wanted to carry you home himself, wanted to tear off his own legs and offer them up for you. He wanted to wake up.

He spoke to you, the words pouring out, unstoppable. Vows to protect you, spiraling into impossibility- he'd kill every last titan to make sure they never touched you again, he'd give you his blood to replace what you'd lost, he'd burn down the world to keep you warm.

Confessions that had never passed his lips before, spilling into the space between you, overflowing helplessly in a whisper you couldn't hear. "I love you. Did you know that? Could you tell?" He choked on it. "I fucking love you. I didn't want to, but I do, and I need you to come back, so I can tell you to your goddamn face."

He couldn't stop touching you, kneeling at your side, his legs long gone numb. He brushed the stringy hair from your forehead, warmed your hands in his, smoothed the blanket back over your wounds. When there was nothing left to do, he did it all over again, repeating the words until they hung in the air and piled over your body, still breathing, only just.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Please.

[betweenthescarletmoon]

hello fellow mutual from tiktok!!! I am so happy to see you put your thoughts here, i feel it was much harder for us to discuss jayce over there!

I agree with everything you said. A fourth act would've worked wonders for Every Character, not just him. And it does anger me so much that Jayce wasn't seen nor Written as a profound character because of s1. I wish i could have a talk with Christopher Linke about this

The idea that people can only like characters because they're attractive to lessen the load of digesting media is imo most likely the Editing Effect of inatagram and tiktok. It pains me to say but i do wonder if arcane came out by the time we as a generation watched AMVs and 7min edits on youtube instead (or at least i did). Maybe then people would have more profound thoughts on all the characters, including Vi, Jinx, Silco, Mel. And i am glad we can discuss things more over here, but it's still not as common to discuss and analyze as it used to be either.

You've mentioned one of my biggest gripes with fandom interpretation in the cave, WHO would debate bisexuality when they have nothing left but the crumbling inner workings of their mind, building the last comfort it can?? Thank you, i really like the idea that he also found himself resenting them, that is actually a much closer observation to how he Looks at them. I truly like that transition from his tears (which represent his old, vulnerable, sweet self) to that colder bitterness that guides him for the rest of the season (until we get the ending, which from a character narrative standpoint, doesn't make sense to me tbh).

Here's the thing, I've also placed myself in the difficult position of liking those thirst edits, saving them in a folder called "thirst traps" to keep them apart from my Real Jayce Folder, laughing at some of the "why trauma jayce kinda" and the like...while also deep down just feeling so empty and sad about it but feeling like there was nothing i could do about it? I don't wanna be dramatic but it Felt isolating. And maybe it does make me a hypocrite! Conformity and yadda yadda, but i cannot imagine that Jayce was designed to not be hot. I believe that was fully intentional, but i also thought that they were prioritizing his character. When i first saw act 2, i didn't know his agency would be obliterated and his arc ripped from his hands to place it solely on Viktor's. So now it feels even worse, that That is what the writers used him for too. And people are completely fine with it! They're so happy about the soulmates.

Your observations about him not stopping and being stuck in survival mode bring me clarity fr. He's never truly been a man about rest, was he? Perhaps that was his main trauma response all along, sacrificing sleep and Academy grades to get Hextech running, almost killing himself the moment he felt he lost it. Of course he'd do that at a more extreme level, but because act 3 doesn't rest or let the story breathe, i frankly didn't interpret it as that, it just felt like he conveniently stopped being mentally ill to give a speech and fight the war 😂 if he survived, he probably wouldn't have stopped, because stopping meant that PTSD would rear its ugly head. But the tragedy of it all Was that he died. Saving the world yes, but it feels so empty and cruel that he suffered so much just to die. No real accomplishment or meaning, just him serving the narrative and saving Viktor.

PS : i adore viktor i really do but it's getting hard not to resent him bc of what the writers did to butcher him, and how they stripped jayce of everything he was outside of him. I still love him! I promise!

And mutual! If you wanna keep talking in DMs you are welcome to!!

Random Thoughts on the Arcane Fandom about Jayce

this is gonna be a mess but I have nowhere else to talk about this.

I've recently noticed how Jayce Talis has been subjected to all kinds of sexualization since the drop of Act 2 of the second season. People have mentioned many times how trauma has made him "hot". A good and well-known example of this is Danny Motta's reaction to episode 5, where he said, "Holy shit, they made Jayce hot! [...] My dude went from looking like a Muppet to the king of Rohan, and all it took was a little bit of trauma."

This isn't entirely new for him? If people didn't hate Jayce back in S1, they ogled him in the scene where he works on the Forge shirtless, which IS kinda the point because the animators are making him very obviously attractive. But most importantly, he as a character has been reduced to his sexual or romantic relationships since the beginning of time.

It seems that S2 is a response to this in a way. His arc from the ending of S1, where he took responsibility of his actions out of guilt for the child he killed, was slightly set aside for Viktor. Well, ALL of his life, dreams, decisions, everything about him was eclipsed by Viktor's shadow because of the whole "all times, all possibilities" twist. He wasn't expected to show up as a Councilor in any of the meetings, and we must assume he quits at some point, but he surely hasn't resigned from his position by the time Viktor wakes up. Apart from that much needed scene between him and Cait, and the one where he attends the memorial (and is attacked by a vengeful mother), we don't see many of his decisions or what leads him to make them, other than Viktor. This is beautiful in a way because we can SEE how it is a trauma response to losing him. He is obsessive by nature, and he clings to what keeps him and his loved ones safe excessively, but I still had to do a bit of mental gymnastics as to why he went back on the second promise: to not build Hextech weapons again. (Hint: it has to do with the fact that VI saved him with HIS weapon, but it went so fast it's hard to process in the first watch.)

Now back to the sexualization problem. Every time I look up his name and trauma, or PTSD, 95% of the results are thirst edits on Tiktok about how hot he is. No joke. One of the more serious results is my own edit. Of course, a lot of people connect with his suffering without naming it as trauma, and that is great. My concern is that there has been so much focus on Jinx's trauma, Viktor's trauma, even Silco's trauma (which are all valid and fascinating to explore), but there's less attention for other characters who clearly show how their own traumatic experiences has shaped them. Vi, Caitlyn, and Jayce are some of the clearest examples of this, and they've experienced some truly heinous things in the show. Trauma cannot be compared, ever. But why is it that Jayce, who lived through an apocalypse that HE knows HE caused, and lives in complete isolation except the "company" of metal watchers, to the point that he loses touch with reality, and is changed so irrevocably that he loses the naivety and starry-eyed optimism that has always defined him...is seen as hot? And more importantly, why is it that there is very little attention to his experiences on that cave? Every scene between him and Viktor is uploaded in 1080 HD quality, but the scenes of him alone? Fighting to survive? Showing remarkable resilience in the face of his suffering? No, that's not as fun. Not a single one of those scenes is uploaded fully, and I have checked many times. (Some people have actually skipped those scenes to focus on Timebomb. I'm...)

I went online and looked up "why do people sexualize traumatized characters" because let's face it, it's real, it's interesting, and I cannot judge or else I am a hypocrite. Bucky Barnes, Loki, Ellie Williams, Dean Winchester, Vi herself, the list goes on much longer but I can't think of others off the top of my head. We connect with their suffering, and we are pulled by their experiences.

However, Jayce is such a complicated case because he is usually thought of as the greedy himbo that fumbled two baddies, or the confused bisexual, or the guy who lost it because of a situationship (much like Vi, who DID NOT lose it because of a failed romantic endeavor bfr). And then the plot goes and tells us, "Actually, yeah, his life outside of Viktor doesn't matter, he's not even supposed to be alive, because Viktor saved him. All of time is completely inextricable from Viktor." People hate meljay because she manipulated him and "trapped" him in a relationship or something, only to celebrate it when something suspiciously similar happens with the male romantic interest? I initially thought it was beautiful too, bc Soulmates, but man. Mage!Viktor really left the man he loved to rot in complete isolation, eating raw reptiles until throwing up, losing his mind. Say what you want about the allegory for Viktor's life, at least Viktor's isolation was metaphorical up until the Glorious Evolution.

Despite us being shown this, people make thirst edits of him in his black fit, and fighting with sexual tension with Viktor. I fear...that I am the only one who finds this tragic. The man forced to create a larger than life persona to sell his work and be seen as an attractive pawn of the system, has become the attractive pawn of the narrative. Viktor's narrative.

Perhaps Viktor was forgotten by the world. But Jayce's kind heart, and brave soul, were forgotten by us.

Just some thoughts to chew about my favorite character and my wish that more people focused on his arc with me

[stanzo75]

George weasley imagine

Smoking w him🍃

Mutual pining to dating trope :D

(This is inspired off of a different post I saw)

- Jesus christ fred, george, and lee are THE stoners

- #1 suppliers in the whole school

- you were in Ron's year, but you were essentially best friends with the twins

- your first ever experience was accidentally eating one of their edibles

- it was just a wrapped candy sitting on Fred's bed

- you had no idea anything was wrong

- until 30 minutes later you felt your mouth go completely dry, and everything was insanely funny

- you laughed at proffesor flitwick in the hall, resulting in 10 points being taken from your house

- fred and George didn't even notice at first, they just thought you were in a good mood

- until fred looked closer at your face and started laughing

- "blimey, are you high?"

- they didn't know it was an accident

- you were SO confused

- the moment you realized you freaked out

- it only got worse from there.

- lowkey on the verge of greening out, (as it was your first time, and with an EDIBLE)

- fred went back to class, george took you up to his dorm

- literally the best sitter

- food, blankets, water, whatever you needed

- you slumped and woke up just fine a few hours later

- never again.

- until a few weeks later

- fred and George SOMEHOW got you to try it with them

- you were sitting in their dorm with Lee, like most nights

- they had a few joints

- their tolerance is HIGH, but they know yours is low

- when George passed one to you, you kinda of hesitated

- he coached you through the first hit, slow inhale, hold it for a few seconds, had a water bottle on standby

- by god you coughed SO much

- he rubbed your back through it

- he let you take another hit before cutting you off and passing it on to Lee

- he watched you so closely

- he just wanted to make sure you're okay♡

- I went well actually, you had fun

- ended up slumped in George's bed

- he slept in a chair nearby all night

- he didn't want to disturb you

- you're their lookout while they sell

- if you see a proffesor you warn them

- fred gets a bit stuck up when stoned, george gets sweeter (if it counts, Lee becomes even funnier)

- George is SO watchful and gentle with you every time you smoke at first, he coddles you completely

- after a bit he loosens up, but is still gentle

- after a few months of smoking with them occasionally you accidentally take a bit too much

- accidental confession.

- no one heard except him

- he looked so surprised but didn't say anything about it

- the next day when you woke up you remembered

- you tried your best to ignore it

- he didnt say anything about it all day

- until lunch

- "meet at the astrology tower tonight?"

- fred and Lee were surprised he wasn't joining them tonight

- but they shrugged it off

- when you meet him in the astrology tower he's all set up

- blankets, water, snacks

- after 30 minutes of talking he asks you about it

- it's too late now, you admit it

- he starts on a full rant of how he reciprocated

- a joint to celebrate!! 🎉

- now that he's your boyfriend he's even more protective and clingy

- instead of sitting nearby he'll have at least one hand on you at all times

- often keeps you leaned against him

- you always get the first hit of anything he has

- fred teases the both of you often, especially when George fusses over you

- George always keeps your favorite snacks, the fluffiest blankets, coldest water, all for you

- sometimes instead of a late night sesh with lee and fred you two will go to the astronomy tower

- i ran out of ideas, the end!

[happyplapy]

I will forever be confused about how I'M the weirdo just for being, but others that harrass me and others like me are the "good" and "Normal" ones?

Little rant i guess(?)

I've had people howl and laugh at me, while i was waiting for the bus, or even just walk past them, because i visibly show i'm Alterhuman.

I've had a situation a few weeks ago where i was going for a walk before it got dark. I sat down on a bench on a hill to watch the sunset (it was one of those long ones that go around a small tree) before i sat down i noticed a guy coming my way, at first i thought it was a guy i knew from a year ago that i considered a friend but he turned out to be awful (anyway)

I wasn't sure so i sat on a spot on the bench so if it really was him he wouldn't recognize me.I looked at the sunset for a short while until i could hear his footsteps, he then just stopped midway. I was sure it was the guy i knew so i prepared to have to say hello (lol)

You know that feeling when you just KNOW someone is staring at you despite not seeing them?? Yes, that.

I looked back at him for a moment to see who it was, it was not that guy i knew. Which honestly makes the situation even weirder because now i could also see that he WAS looking at me. I turned around again and looked at my phone and pretend i was texting someone, when i could hear that he was coming closer 💀🙏

For a second i thought he just wanted to watch the sunset too and that it was just an unfortunate situation that we both looked at eachother at the same time. He didn't sit down tho, he just stood there, quite close to me.

I thought, ok, maybe i'm just paranoid, but i swear bro came closer like every second.

Which he did. At one point he was so close that i could hear him mumble to himself and breathe. I didn't wanna move tho, i wanted to see the sunset.

I turned around again at one point and he was STILL staring, and guess what he was staring at, the tail i had on. He ended up sitting right next to me despite there being enough space and just stared. He just had that creepy af vibe. (Little reminder that we were pretty much alone and i was like 3 times shorter than him, i was genuinely afraid atp)

I ended up leaving and when i looked back i saw that he also left. Maybe it really WAS just my paranoia and anxiety, but it's so obvious he acted that way because my fit was "weird"

And that's exactly where my point starts, I would still be considered the weirdo in this situation. Despite just chilling and watching the sun I'M the freak, not the guy who actually bothered and scared someone to the point they had to leave, all because they are visibly different.

If anything, people would excuse behaviour like his.

Don't get me wrong, i understand that by going out like that i will get attention, both negative and positive. And in itself i'm ok with that, it's something that's annoying but ok yeah it happens. But i will never understand why people don't just ask, i will never understand why people end up ruining my mood just because i'm walking down a street.

But despite all of this i'll never hide who and what i am

[duckduckgoosebutitsinatrench]

So when I wrote this I meant like, Ace Just Some Guyed his way into some ambiguous "will they won't they" Totally Platonic cuddles, but in light of recent events, I think they should kiss actually. They should get married.

AceYuu headcanons:

Ace both fell first and fell harder. My boy spent the night at Ramshackle one weekend to go on a horror movie binge, and then Yuu fell asleep- not even ON him, Yuu just fell asleep next to him on the floor in a blanket cocoon- and then his brain decided to finally process all the feelings he had and engage his pattern recognition like "aw yes, I've seen this before, time to date" and just dropped the FONDEST, most Hozier level yearning "I love you" bombshell on this poor, poor mans internal dialogue

You should've seen it, it was the most accurate windows crash buffer screen to ever grace the world of twisted Wonderland

Bro shut down. Bro zoned out so hard he had a whole ass out of body experience and he was still too busy staring at Yuu drooling in a raggedy ass quilt to even notice. Bro did NOT finish that horror movie! (It was a pretty shitty one anyway so he didn't really care) Bro barely slept, he just stared at the ceiling until Yuu woke up the next morning (if 12:37 pm still even counts as morning to you) and came out of their little one man blanket fort wearing HIS OLD T-SHIRT HE LENT TO THEM- FUCK

... Welp. Time to roll with it. In love or not, Ace Trappola is Ace Trappola and Ace Trappola is an asshole! But now he's an asshole that's buying Yuu coffee twice a week and then complaining about it even though he's the one who insisted on buying it in the first place

Finds every fucking opportunity to make a flirty ass "joke" that everyone and their mama can tell isn't really a joke trying to gauge how Yuu feels about him. Sebek is gripping the steel chair getting ready to swing

You know how Yuu gets into a Situation every other day? Yeah. You know how Ace is now getting very very close to having an actual fucking heart attack?

Ace prides himself in taking care of Yuu, it's one of the things he'd do even if he can't take care of them in exactly the way he wants. But seriously Perfect! You can't just text him in the middle of basketball practice saying you fell off your fucking ROOF- WHAT WERE YOU DOING UP THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE?!?!

Ortho dead ass has to put them both on house arrest for a few days to monitor them because Ace actually almost came close to a medical emergency from the stress.

He wants so badly to be mad at Yuu- and he is! But their guilty face and whispered apologies and the weird little cat-like bonk they gave him are taking up an unusual amount of space in his mind and for some reason he can't remember what he was supposed to be angry about right now

He thinks he's being so damn slick with this crush and keeping his very very intense feelings a secret and laying low and shit and then you go and talk to a Scarabia student B and he's like "I thought they were already dating?... What do you MEAN they're not even together?!"

Worst kept secret in all of NRC. Cater goes live and starts talking about his "cute, oblivious little freshmen" and Yuu watches it and is like "damn, wonder who he's talking about :D" and Ace wants to die

The pinning stage is so real bro! Ace is over here taking them out to arcades and cafes and local pop-up fairs and is trying his best to pretend this is a date that Duece and Grim are just third wheeling on

I honestly don't think there's even a real confession? It's gonna be one of those "Didn't realize we were dating" things. Ace somehow just sweet talks his way into Yuus bed for the night after lying and saying he was kicked out of heartslabyul and they're just cuddling and then Yuu just gives a little sigh and is like

"I kind of want to kiss you right now", it's barely a whisper and he more so feels the breath on his neck than hears the actual words but OH BOY

Give him a minute. Give him a minute he needs it. He'll kiss you in a minute just let him freak out first

You almost regretted saying it, regretted breaking the ice that you both had seemed to silently agree Wasn't There.

Maybe f you were more awake, then you would. Maybe you would fluster and try to take it back, or maybe you would have a sudden surge of bravery and double down on your desires.

Maybe.

But you were tired, and Ace was warm- he was always so warm, you know? His skin always seemed to run hotter than anyone else you knew, with the exception of his cold hands, which were currently wrapping around you tighter than they were just a few seconds ago, something you were too sleepy to truly process. All you noticed was how his fingers dug into your skin, into your waist, into your shoulder and the back of your neck and how his breath hitched.

Your eyes were getting heavier by the second. Being trapped in your best friend's arms and knowing you were safe, knowing, that on some deep, unconscious level, that you were loved, would do that to you.

Sleep always came easy when he was here to protect you and look after you, even with him complaining the whole way.

Ace's breaths we're coming out shallow and slow, like he was trying his best not to break something fragile, and your tired mind briefly wonders why before you feel his thumb drawing circles into your nape and your brain goes peacefully blank again.

Taking in a slight shaking breath, his voice comes out in the same barely-there whisper yours had, with a tone filled with something you knew you weren't quite ready to face, "...Do you mean it?... Hey", he shook you slightly, just enough to jostle you out of the sandman's gentle grasp, "Yuu! Do you... Do you mean it?"

His voice wasn't even really there by the end, but his hand had moved to your face, his palms gently cradling your face and his chilled fingers caressing the space just under your eyes, seemingly trying to wake you up through the small touches as his body shifts to be just barely hovering over yours.

You blink slowly up at him, and answer with a yes that was based more on instincts and intuition than actually logically understanding what he was asking.

You were so tired, but he was just so damn beautiful that you felt you would give him the world in this moment, if only he asked for it. You would find a way for him.

And as he slowly moved his hand down to trace your bottom lip, his eyes flicking between your lips and your half asleep eyes as he slowly leaned in, you felt your heart swell with a more intense feeling than you ever thought you could have.

The feeling of his lips, soft from the cherry chapstick he'd bought a few months ago, the same one you found every excuse to borrow, somehow felt more right than anything else ever since you got to this strange new world.

It helped that he wasn't a bad kisser either.

Seconds felt like years, and your heartbeat was speeding up ringing through your entire body when he pulled away, a loving, disbelieving smile that was quickly pulling into that boyish smirk you loved so much was right there on his face, seared into your memory

"I knew you couldn't resist me"

You knew how it should have sounded, you knew how he meant it to sound, how it was supposed to be smug and slightly condescending, but it just came out so, so fond. Like he had waited a thousand lifetimes for this, and he would've waited a thousand more.

You hummed, a faint knowing in the back of your brain that you would be nearly as calm about this once morning came, as you tangled your hands in his messy hair, and kissed him again.

The next morning was an EVENT, all the blood in your body relocated to your face and Ace had never teased you so hard! just ignore the fact that he hasn't let go of your hand all morning! Please.

The first people to find out about this is, of course, Grim and Deuce, who share a look with various levels of played up disgust

The next person is surprisingly Sebek, who finally stops white knuckling that chair to congratulate you... and somehow drag your friendship with Malleus into said congratulations

He becomes so damn insufferable. Once he realized he can be a boyfriend and live out all the fantasies he's had in his head for months? All bets are off baby! He is so annoying about it! You love it

He's such a good boyfriend? Surprisingly? I firmly believe that the only reason he treated his ex like that is because he didn't really know her before they started dating, he just thought that being in a relationship would be fun and cool and he just jumped into it without actually thinking about it first

WITH YOU THOUGH?! WITH HIS BEST FRIEND THAT HE CARES ABOUT VERY VERY MUCH?! OH HE IS STEPPING IT UP! HE IS GONNA GET A GOOD GRADE IN BOYFRIEND IF IT FUCKING KILLS HIM

Not much changes, really. You were both already kind of dating before this anyways, the only thing different is that he can kiss you and use those cheesy ass pet names that he pretends to cringe at but secretly loves. That's right! He's going to unironically call you some shit like "sweetie pie honey bunches" and then pretend he was calling you that ironically! Epel is in hell

He still isn't gonna stop complaining about buying your coffee though- no! Put your wallet away he's still gonna do it, dammit!

As much as i love all the other Yuu ships like Malleyuu, Silyuu, Jadeyuu, floydyuu, Jamiyuu, etc. NOTHING and i mean NOTHING is funnier than Ace mother fucking Trapollo Just Some Guying his way into Yuus bed

[oceanista08]

[ 2 ] Shadow of you. ✧. ┊    woo jinchul x hunter!reader.

The first time you met Woo Jinchul, it was a disaster.

The dungeon was supposed to be easy—a regular C-rank quest for your party. Nothing too dangerous. Nothing worth fighting for your life. But the thing about dungeons is that they are unpredictable.

A second gate had opened inside, releasing monsters far beyond your level. Your party scattered, either dead or unconscious, leaving you alone, bleeding and barely able to stand. Your breathing was ragged, your weapon grip shaking, but you would not give up.

The last thing you expected was for reinforcements to arrive in the form of him.

Woo Jinchul cut through the battlefield like a blade cutting through silk. His movements were precise, efficient—almost unfair power for someone who wasn’t even an S-class hunter. The monsters, sensing a stronger predator, attacked him. It didn’t matter. He was faster. Stronger. Merciless.

As the last creature fell, you fell to your knees, clutching your wounded arm. He turned to you, adjusting his sunglasses, his expression unreadable.

“Are you okay?” His voice was low, even—completely unfazed by the carnage.

You swallowed. “I will live.”

There was a long pause. Then he crouched beside you, his presence overwhelming even without his threatening moves. “You shouldn’t be in a dungeon like this.”

It made you uncomfortable. “Excuse me?”

“I saw your profile. You’re a lone hunter. No guild, no backup. Reckless.”

You gasped. “Not all of us can play it safe, Chief Inspector.”

Something flashed behind his glasses. His lips pressed into a thin line before he let out a sigh of relief.

“Then at least don’t take on missions alone.”

And with that, he left.

You thought that would be the last time you saw him.

You were wrong.

You weren’t sure which annoyed you more—Woo Jinchul’s constant appearances or his constant saving of you.

It wasn’t intentional (probably), but it happened too often to be a coincidence. Every time you took on a dangerous mission, every time things went wrong, he was there. Silent, efficient, and maddeningly calm.

It wasn’t until the fourth encounter that you really snapped.

It was another bad mission—this time a raid gone awry. Your team had gotten separated, leaving you stranded with a mutated orc, and despite your best efforts, you weren’t strong enough to take it down alone. Just when you thought you were going to die, Woo Jinchul appeared, dispatching the creature in less than a minute.

As soon as the fight was over, you lunged at him, anger overwhelming your gratitude.

“Are you stalking me?”

He didn’t even flinch. “No.”

“Then why are you always here?”

He adjusted his sunglasses. “Because you keep getting into trouble.”

You gasped, your patience running thin. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I never said you did.” His voice was flat, unreadable. But then, after a moment of silence, he added, “But someone has to keep you alive.”

That left you speechless.

You weren't sure what shocked you more - the bluntness of his words or the quiet concern hidden within them.

For the first time, you actually looked at him. Not just as the Chief Inspector, not just as a high-ranking hunter with a confused expression, but as a man who, for some reason, had decided to follow you.

You didn't know what to say. So you decided to say something stubborn. “I don't need your help.”

Woo Jinchul studied you for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

And then he left.

But somehow, you knew it wasn't over yet.

A few weeks later, you found yourself sitting on the roof of the Hunter Association building, watching the city lights below. The task was difficult, your body ached, and you just wanted a moment of silence.

You barely reacted as someone approached.

“You're so reckless.”

You sighed. “You say that a lot.”

Woo Jinchul sat down next to you, remaining silent for a moment before continuing. “Because it's true.”

You glanced at him, surprised to see that he had taken off his sunglasses. His sharp, tired eyes were studying you with an intensity that made your breathing quicken.”

“Why do you keep pushing yourself?

You hesitated. “…Because if I don't do it, who will?”

The silence stretched between you. The usual sharpness in his eyes softened, his expression unreadable but not unkind.

“You don't have to do it alone,” he said finally.

Your heart skipped a beat.

For the first time, you wonder—maybe Woo Jinchul isn't just keeping an eye on you because it's his job. Maybe…he cares.

And maybe, just maybe, you want him to.

(　o=^•ェ•)o　┏━┓

You should’ve known that peace never lasted long in your line of work.

After your rooftop conversation with Woo Jinchul, you told yourself you wouldn’t think about it too much. But that was easier said than done. His words lingered, his presence seemed to follow you even when he wasn’t there.

And then the incident happened.

It started as a routine subjugation request—a low-tier dungeon appearing in the city outskirts. Nothing out of the ordinary. You and a group of hunters were assigned to clear it out, expecting an easy paycheck.

But when the gate’s energy spiked to unstable levels, the truth became clear.

It wasn’t a normal dungeon. It was a break in disguise.

The monsters that poured out weren’t C-rank or even B-rank. They were A-rank at the very least. The kind that devoured unprepared hunters in seconds.

Panic broke out.

Hunters screamed. Blood hit the pavement. You barely had time to think before an ogre-like creature twice your size lunged at you.

You dodged—just barely—rolling across the cracked asphalt. Your mind raced. The others were already down. You were the last one standing. And the monster—its glowing red eyes locked onto you—wasn’t going to let you escape.

Damn it.

Your body protested as you forced yourself up. You weren’t sure how long you could hold out. Maybe you wouldn’t make it out at all.

Then, a shadow loomed over you.

A familiar presence.

And then the monster’s head was gone.

Blood sprayed, its massive body collapsing to the ground with a sickening thud. You blinked, stunned, your heart pounding—only to look up and find Woo Jinchul standing before you, his suit stained with blood, his expression as cold and lethal as the blade in his hand.

“…You again,” you breathed, dazed.

His gaze flickered to you. Checked you. And for just a second, his expression softened.

“You’re hurt.”

You exhaled sharply. “Nothing serious.”

Woo Jinchul didn’t seem convinced, but instead of arguing, he turned back to the remaining monsters. There were still four left—massive, brutal, and eager to kill.

“I’ll handle this,” he said simply.

You bristled. “Like hell you will. I’m still standing.”

He glanced at you—this time, behind his sunglasses, you swore there was something unreadable.

“…Then don’t fall behind.”

And with that, he charged forward.

The battle that followed was brutal, but with Woo Jinchul at your side, the tide turned. His attacks were sharp, precise, a perfect contrast to your agile, unpredictable fighting style. It was like you had done this a hundred times before.

By the time the last monster fell, silence stretched between you. The only sound was your ragged breathing, the distant sirens of the Association’s backup finally arriving.

You turned to Woo Jinchul, your adrenaline still high, heart still racing.

He was watching you.

You swallowed. “You… always show up at the right time.”

A beat of silence. Then, his voice—steady, but quieter than usual.

“You keep giving me reasons to.”

Something in your chest tightened.

Before you could respond, Association hunters swarmed in, cutting the moment short. But even as Woo Jinchul stepped away, his presence lingered—just like the words he had left behind.

And for the first time, you wondered if you were in more danger from him than from any monster you'd ever faced.

U•ェ•*U

Days passed, but the encounter with Woo Jinchul didn’t leave your mind.

His words, his actions—everything about him was starting to get under your skin. You hated how often you thought about him, how his quiet protectiveness made your heart beat just a little faster.

So when you saw him again at an Association meeting, you told yourself you wouldn’t let it bother you.

You failed miserably.

He stood near the front of the conference room, speaking with the Association President. His usual sharp suit, his usual unreadable expression. But this time, when his gaze flickered to yours across the room, something in your chest twisted.

You quickly looked away.

This was getting ridiculous.

But then, as the meeting ended and you turned to leave, a voice stopped you.

“[Name].”

You froze. Slowly, you turned.

Woo Jinchul stood behind you, hands in his pockets, his posture as composed as ever. But his eyes—his real eyes, not the ones hidden behind dark lenses—were watching you carefully.

“…What?” you asked, cursing how unsteady your voice sounded.

A pause. Then—

“Dinner.”

You blinked. “…What?”

He sighed. “You’re reckless, you push yourself too hard, and you keep getting into dangerous situations.”

You scowled. “I don’t need a lecture—”

“It’s not a lecture.” His voice softened. “It’s an invitation.”

You stared at him, caught completely off guard.

Woo Jinchul, the man who barely spoke unless necessary, the man who only seemed to express emotions in the subtlest of ways—was asking you to dinner.

And maybe it was the exhaustion talking. Maybe it was the adrenaline, the slow-burn tension that had been building between you both. But before you could stop yourself, you found yourself saying—

“…Fine.”

The corner of his lips twitched—just barely, almost imperceptible. But you saw it.

And for some reason, it made your heart pound.

Maybe this is not bad at all.

HEAR ME OUTTT

This man deserves more love U-U