#EDIT II: back to being bored :/

[wileys-russo]

party 4 u II a.putellas

idk what this is other than being fueled by a charli xcx lover with a tiktok fyp full of those 'how it feels to hear party 4 u' edits party 4 u II a.putellas

you always started the morning with the same little set of rituals, the war torn practices you'd perfected over years of self indulgent behaviors that left you waking up with a pounding headache and a mouth as dry as the sahara.

the same step by step process that you sought out to heal you of your demons, the little devils which sat on your shoulder of an evening jeering and snarling at you, picking at every emotional scab they could peel back, words like lemon juice spat on an open wound.

that was how you'd find yourself with phone in hand and sending out a barrage of eager messages, already pouring yourself a stiff drink and settling against the headboard of your bed, your little friends now quieter though their sneering still rang in your ears as you waited for someone to respond they were free.

then once you had even a slight sniff of a plan you'd get begin to get ready, necking down at least another three drinks in the process, your head now silent and buzzing like it was filled with bees, ears stuffed with cotton and a warmth spreading through your stomach that felt invitingly pleasant.

your nights were filled with dancing until your feet might fall off and drinking until you wondered if your liver might follow suit.

bumping into strangers and friends alike though none who really knew the real you or whose faces you might ever see outside of a bar or a nightclub.

whom you'd never share a genuine conversation or a sincere thought with, all relationships you suffocated yourself with containing the same surface level connection where they merely existed to fulfill your need for acceptance, attention and adoration.

but all that had changed the night you met her.

when you'd met alexia you'd hardly been in a sober state of body or mind, hunched over the sink crying your eyes out over your latest situationship who'd left you for something newer and shinier, a pattern you should have been used to considering the type of girls you pulled into bed with you of an evening.

but you never learned, why would you?

not when you could keep repeating the same patterns that left you miserable which went hand in hand with the self destructive habits that lead you craving those short fast connections and the touch of a warm body pressed against your own in the first place.

you'd had far too much to drink with far too little in your stomach to process it, mind spinning from a profound lack of hydration despite how many kamikaze shots you'd downed, and a headache right behind your eyes just starting to set in.

when you'd felt the hand on your back your head shot up instantly, almost pathetically hoping it would be your ex girlfriend up for one more night of fun before she dissipated back into the abyss of the party scene in barcelona.

but instead you were greeted by a new face, kind brown eyes with bore into yours and left you feeling completely stripped bare even if you were very much still fully clothed.

her eyebrows curved downward with concern and there were little dimples either side of her mouth where pale pink lips pursed into a thin line, a frown not filled with disappointment but something else, something softer.

but ultimately, with one small look and a simple touch this stranger had you feeling more vulnerable than when you'd been crying your eyes out in a dimply lit restroom, and you found yourself dabbing at your eyes as if that would make your makeup look any less smeared.

"¿Estás bien?"

little did you know, after that one easy question you'd be the furthest thing from okay you'd been in years.

at first you worried she'd grow bored of you but your usual attempts to fling money or gifts at the problem fell flat, and though the rejection hurt you could see why she'd said no to your less than subtle advances.

you weren't okay, and the connection and acceptance and love you craved came from a place of isolation, and a lack of self acceptance and doubt, from a childhood spent raised by anyone but the woman who gave birth to you or the stranger you'd never known who helped it happen.

you had slips ups, weeks where you'd disappear off the radar and fall back into the welcoming embrace of blocking your feelings with uppers and downers alike, anything to get rid of the reality of being left alone with your thoughts and forced to process them.

you'd never liked feelings despite how much you craved to pull them from others, how many beds you'd woken up in over the years and nameless faces you'd left behind that morning.

still despite all of that, and still to this day you didn't know quite why or how, alexia remained a constant in your life.

picking you up when you were down, yelling at you when you needed a dose of reality and praising when you finally took a step toward your fears instead of running away.

she was the best friend you ever had, maybe even one of the only ones who'd actually cared for more than just your last name and the material and financial assets which came from it, not to say she couldn't pull a pretty penny for herself with her status.

you knew nothing about football aside from that whenever barcelona played, men or women, you'd stumble into any bar along the strip and the game would be broadcast on every tv it could be.

but once you met alexia you learned everything there was to know, throwing your addictive tendencies into studying the rules, the leagues, the competitions, wanting to support her even half as much as she'd supported you.

you showed up to games, met her family, friends, were pulled into the inner circle and for the first time in years finally felt you had a place in life, something to wake up and look forward to of a match day, belong to a community.

you'd long harbored your true feelings for alexia since her initial rejection, recognizing that if you let them get too close to the surface both of you would end up hurt, and the last thing you would ever want to do is push her away or give her a reason to go.

so you lied to yourself, gaslit your own mind that the emotions weren't there, pushed them down and down and focused on other things, you'd almost convinced yourself they were gone.

it had been a few years now and you were yet to realise that they were anything but, that just because you no longer thought about what it might feel like to kiss her or tortured yourself with the endless wonderings of what might be if you just asked her again, they were still there.

you were finally happy, finally okay, finally had genuine friends and hobbies and ways to fill your time that brought sincere fulfillment, finally had the life you'd wanted since you were a child playing alone and talking to imaginary friends.

but there was always something missing, a type of love that none of that brought you that you knew you wanted but didn't have the first clue how to unlock the box it seemed to be stuck and held away from you in.

always something missing, until the night of alexia's thirtieth birthday.

you'd worked alongside her sister and her friends to organise alexia a surprise party, the ridiculously humble captain insisting she didn't want a fuss, didn't want a big party, was happy just to go out to dinner to a nice restaurant, allow one round of singing her happy birthday and call it a night.

though instead the restaurant she'd wanted to dine at was booked out for a private event, all of her closest loved ones gathered and laid in wait for her to walk through and yell out with a cheer.

but when they did, when you were squished inbetween her uncle and her cousin, the last thing you expected was for her ex to be beside her, and for her lips to press against alexias as suddenly it felt like the air was being sucked dry from your lungs.

you hadn't even known they were still in touch though you'd hardly had anything to do with the guest list which alba had full control over.

it was like time stood still as alexia was enveloped in a cocoon of her innermost circle, pushed from hug to hug, reminded she was another year older again and again, toothy cheshire grin plastered ear to ear.

but all you could feel was the uppercut to your stomach that left you winded from seeing her kiss someone else, someone that wasn't you, and all of those feelings you'd been in pure denial of and refused to process, came screaming and hurtling to the surface.

you didn't even flinch as the canons went off and the gold and silver confetti came raining down, feet glued to the floor and those pesky little devils slowly climbing up onto your shoulders again from where you'd flicked them off long long ago.

but before they could whisper anything, confirm the insecurities which were already sounding in your ears, you shook them off and hurried for the door, missing the brown eyes which flickered around the room to find you, and only you.

finally able to exhale as you burst through the double doors and were smacked in the face by the cool evening air, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and head ringing from the cheers in the large room which had shrunk to feel like the smallest of cubes.

you'd never been claustrophobic but you suddenly had a whole new respect for the feeling of everything closing in, desperate to get as far away from this hidden humiliation as you could, maybe even send your therapist a text to see if she could bump your appointment up any earlier.

then you felt it, the hand on your back, almost dropping your phone as you turned and without meaning to pushed her away from you, not missing the hurt and confusion which flashed across her face.

but before you let her speak you took off, heels clacking against the pavement as you sought to put as much distance between the two of you as you could, pretending you couldn't hear her calling after you.

though of course the professional athlete wasn't one who'd be ran away from, another touch now this time clamping around your wrist like a vice, causing you to spin around and almost drop your phone yet again.

she caught it effortlessly because of course she did, though when you reached for it back you exhaled when she held it out of reach and gave you a look that had your cheeks burning up again and wishing the ground might swallow you up.

"alexia-" "no. no por favor, just listen."

it was rare to hear her beg and yet the hints of desperation to her tone had you pausing, walls still up in full defense but you offered a curt nod, the excuse you'd been about to vomit out about not feeling well and heading home not fooling her even before you said it.

"i did not know jenni would be there. i had not asked her to dinner but clearly she was late to that, and i saw her outside and she said-" "alexia really you do not need to -" "no. listen! por favor, i need you to hear me."

at that you once more fell silent, another small nod and she was taking a deep breath before starting again, taking you by surprise again as she took your hands in hers, rings cold against your own fingers which were for once bare.

"jenni is a friend, nothing more. i do not have those feelings for her, there is someone else that i have always-" at that you tried to pull your hands away but she held on tighter.

"alexia no really you-"

this time you were silenced once more though this time it wasn't with a curt look or a pleading word, this time it was pillow soft lips pressing against yours and hands which were once holding yours moving to find home against your hips, drawing you impossibly close.

when finally she pulled away you were left stunned, head reeling and a moment of regret flashing across her face before her features hardened and her hands moved again to gently cup your cheeks.

"you. amor it has always been you."

[kinda-indecisive]

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⋆ Face Kisses pt. II ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳

Basically how I imagine their reactions to an onslaught of face kisses from you (MC). Fluff.

Part 2: The Rafayel and Sylus Edition!

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Rafayel

Enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your ear, you are already comfortably nestled into your spot on his lap, arms lazily hung around his neck as he continues to flip quietly through the gallery catalog over your head.

A catalog Thomas had sent Rafayel to review a week ago, which you feel kinda guilty about.

Usually, Thomas can trust you to keep Raf in check, pushing him to slough through the boring stuff so that the two of you can spend the rest of your time together doing other, more exciting things. This past week, however, you had been having a really frustrating time dealing with a particularly nasty group of Wanderers that kept reappearing at the most inopportune times and locations. And, when you showed up in his studio, he noticed something was off instantly.

He’d taken it on as his duty to pull you out of your slump of frustration, dragging you from marketplace to marketplace, shop to shop, beach to beach, hoping to get your mind off of those “creativity sucking Wanderers with bad attitudes”. And that was just on the first day. All week, he’s been there the second you wake up, chattering excitedly about where you two were off to next. And, in all honesty, having him around has kinda helped.

And although you didn’t say it out loud, he sensed this, too. Hence the only reason he has finally given you a second to breathe, curled up in his lap on the sofa, the beach breeze gently blowing at the white curtains, and the only other movement in the room being his occasional page turning.

When he hums softly in disdain at something, you are snapped out of your comfy daze.

You really do appreciate how much effort he puts in to make you feel better at times like these. And even though he insists on brushing it off as no big deal (“I already needed to make a trip to this shop, cutie, you just saved me from having to go alone” ), you know that his actions have always spoken much louder, and much more clearly, than his words.

Your heart nearly bursts at how true the thought is and you shift in his lap to look down at him.

He groans loudly, setting the catalog aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he pouts up at you, “Why are you moving around so much? I was perfectly comfortable staying how we were before and I’ll never get any work done if you keep squirming…”

He continues to pout, even when you take his face between your palms. Such a nice face belonging to someone with such a good heart. An absolutely gorgeous face, even if he does keep that indignant little scowl and crease between his brows.

You kiss this space between his brows first, which makes his eyebrows raise in surprise. But before he even has a chance to collect himself from this initial surprise, you continue planting small kisses to cover the rest of his face, making sure to leave no space neglected.

“Alright, alright,” he says once you’ve already finished, clearing his throat and turning his face away, “You’re treating me like some kind of puppy. I’m not your pet, y’know.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and pretends to be annoyed, his face still turned away. His refusal to look you in the eye, however, only gives you a better view of his bright red ears and cheeks, betraying exactly how he feels about the attention he just received.

“Oh? Well, I guess if you didn’t like that, I shouldn’t do it ever again. I admittedly still don’t know much about what kind of behavior is accepted in Lemuria. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything,” you say, pretending to get up from his lap.

He catches your wrist and gently pulls you back down, giving you that signature head tilt and grin when he reassures you.

“Aw, well, I get it. You are still pretty new to this Lemurian thing. Besides, it wasn’t too horrible,” he says, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He swipes it away nonchalantly, continuing, “I could maybe suffer through such treatment once or twice a month. Or a week. Or even once a day if you really felt the strong desire to. You humans and your customs are weird, but I can be a good sport about some of them.”

“No, no, there’s no need,” you continue to tease, pretending to stand once again, “I really should be more mindful when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“No, I insist. As a matter of fact…” he says, catching your wrist again and tugging you back down to sit in his lap, simultaneously managing to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from getting up again, “...dontcha think it’s my turn to give this newfound custom a try?”

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Sylus

When you arrive at the N109 Zone, it’s almost noon. Therefore you aren’t surprised that Sylus is still in his room, is still asleep, and is not quite ready to compromise that sleep for anyone or anything.

You know that technically doesn’t include you, but you don’t want to ruin his rest, so you leave him be for now. Instead, you decide to check out some more rooms in this grand house.

Your visits to the N109 zone have been much more frequent, despite this past week apart. But before this last week, you had come and gone with a frequency that Sylus had finally seemed pleased with.

In that time, you had familiarized yourself with many of the rooms of this mansion already. That being said, you could almost swear that Sylus brought in something new every single day, so there’s always something new to discover on your visits.

And now you find yourself faltering before a suit of armor you hadn’t noticed before. It must have been pure white at one time, but now has gone dark from wear, age, and transportation. The armor wasn’t made for someone of Sylus’s size, and you wonder what about it made him want to add it to his collection. You try to resonate with it to get something off of it, but nothing really happens.

Soon, however, you grow tired of the silent house and the suit of armor. You figure that a small nap never hurt anyone. Besides, it feels like you haven’t seen Sylus in ages, even though it’s only been a week. A long, tedious week of Wanderers and stuck up clients who you sometimes thought about leaving to fend off the Wanderers themselves.

Slipping into his bedroom, his bedside lamp is on. The dim light casts strange shadows around the room, but softly illuminates the man on the bed.

Walking around the bed, you crawl onto the mattress and begin to make yourself comfy, trying to do it slowly so you don’t disturb he who breathes deeply beside you. Once settled, you roll over to face him.

His normally strong features look so soft in this lighting, and his brow is furrowed slightly in his sleep, his expression one of a man concerned. Your heart aches a little as you realize just how much you’ve missed him this week despite trying to convince yourself you were better off without his incessant teasing. Reaching out, you mean to brush your fingertips over his cheekbones, but you suddenly hesitate before touching him. He sleeps so lightly sometimes and you don’t want to be the reason he can’t fall back to sleep.

But it’s already too late.

That frown of concern shifts into confusion as his eyes open—the color as bright and striking as ever—then relief when he sees you, sleepily taking your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers. Rolling onto his side, he smiles faintly at the sight of you tucked in beside him.

“I’m not dreaming, am I, sweetie?” he murmurs, his already deep voice even deeper with sleep, “It’s been 8 days and a few hours since I saw you last.”

“You keep count?” you tease as he brings your wrist to his lips.

“Maybe I do,” he says with a huff and a shrug, his still-heavy eyelids closing again. You know he isn’t asleep, however, by the sound of his annoyed grunt when you try to slip your hand out of his grasp, “Leaving already?”

“No, I just want to get more comfortable.”

His eyes still closed, he allows you to take your hand back. You start to settle in beside him, but thinking about how lovely and worried he’d looked when you first came in, you suddenly have an idea to hopefully help soothe whatever dreams he’d been having.

His brow furrows again when you take his face in-between your hands, but a smug little smile is quick to replace it as you place feather-light little kisses against every inch of his face.

He sinks deeper into the mattress as you do, his entire body relaxing as you surge with gratitude for the fact that he shares this vulnerable side with you and only you. By the time you finish, his smug smile has faded softly as he dozes off and on again.

“Hmm? Is that all?” he hums. Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, sliding back into the blankets, grabbing his arm and drawing it around you as well. Nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck, he murmurs with a voice as smooth as velvet, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s been a hell of a week and I needed that.”

“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, “Now go back to sleep, Sylus.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Previous Post ←(･ ᗜ ･)ﾉ ╰( ･ ᗜ ･ )➝ Next Post

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1: Xavier and Zayne Edition

Masterlist link

A Short Little Tag List! 💕 (I hope you enjoy :))

@lemurianmaster @myeagleexpert

[4everdweeb]

4everdweeb’s reading list

june edition ๋࣭࣪˖🎐

happy june! hope everyone is getting some good sun. here’s everything i read in june! enjoy🩵

note this doesn’t include the summer reading list i posted in june which you can find here!

CW 18+ smut, minors dni

photos from pinterest // graphics by @pink-horizon & @cursed-carmine

STRANGER THINGS

eddie

simmer series — @upsidedownwithsteve gave me flashbacks when i used to work at a restaurant but i loved it

no ones ever? — @glassbxttless

spin doctor — @carolmunson

virgin eddie — @usedtobecooler

1405 peach tree lane — @rip-quizilla

eat me — ^ 🔥🔥

go fish — @elegantpaperoperatormaker

cotton mouth — @gracieheartspedro

cherry stems — ^ a reread 😍

you really got me now — ^

make me feel ft gareth — ^

ˋ°•*⁀➷ pt 2

up for the challenge — @madelynraemunson

just watch me series — @mediocredreams

the gift that keeps on giving — @punkrockmlchael one of my favs!!!

let me be your goodnight — @eddiesxangel

celebrity skin series — @cacoetheswriting 😛

hawaii baby — @elegantpaperoperatormaker

pretty little bat — @glassbxttless 🦇

teenage dirtbags — @vingtetunmars

are you bored yet? ongoing series — @eddiesghxst

an unexpected (k)night — @gaybybirth

ˋ°•*⁀➷ pt. 2

take me (home) — @chelseeebe

im gonna get you back — @eddiesxangel

steve

your biggest fan hater — @hellfire--cult amazing

love and passion — @munsonify

order #I — @ash5monster01

and i snuck in threw the garden gate — @upsidedownwithemmy crazy

blind date — @c4tluver02

he’s not your boyfriend — @harringtons-cupid

wet, hot, american nights ongoing series — @sacrilegesummer

how can we go back to being friends (when we just shared a bed) — @stevesgother

she’s always a woman — @lottevence

ˋ°•*⁀➷ pt. 2

steddie

honeys lemons and apple pies — @hauntedfawnn

senses fail series

hurry up and wait — @rebelfell

billy

stubborn — @bookshelf-dust

kiss it better — @buckysgrace

shock the monkey — @ordinary-barbie

coming attractions — ^

relationship guy — @ashwhowrites

heaven in hiding — @billysbabyy 💕

gareth

bandmates — @punkrockmlchael lovely reread of one of my fav

heart break girl — ^

argyle

high for this — @loveshotzz

SINNERS

remmick

all crossroads bound together — @freenightfall

gagged on grace — @vxncevis

will ye go lassie go? — @moonlight-presence

earned it — @feral4youu

bo chow

on my mind — @feral4youu

JACK O’CONNELL

oliver mello

love that devours in the flesh — @zstartrixxx

first of many — @vxncevis

GLADIATOR II

emperor geta

geta’s hands — @getaapologist

FANTASTIC FOUR

jq johnny

daddy johnny — @murdock-slvt

MATERIALISTS

henry castillo

glitz glamour gloom — @writeslikeanaria

closed doors — @sweetlovepascal

see u in july☀️

[mrrharper]

Gamer Night

Ari and Mike were laying on Ari’s bed, bored out of their minds. After getting lunch at one of their favorite spots and taking a long walk through the city in the still hot September sun, they were exhausted. After coming back to Ari’s house they fell on the bed and laid there for about an hour. Thankfully no one else was home, which was not a given. Both guys were broke college students who benefited from their family homes being close to their campus. Mike was an only child, but Ari had a nosy younger brother who was set on disturbing his brother’s relationship every chance he got. Fortunately he was away on a school trip and Ari’s parents left for a few days to visit their office in New York, leaving their oldest son home alone.

Mike slowly turned on the bed and looked at his boyfriend, then groaned quietly.

“God, I need to change my position” he slowly forced his body into a sitting position, balancing on the edge of the bed. “It’s not dark outside yet, we need something to pass the time and laying on the bed won’t cut it for me, I’m afraid.” Ari looked at him and stood up next to the bed. He had to admit Mike looked hot int hat moment, his shirt unbuttoned, exposing his flat stomach and barely visible abs. 

“Sure.” Ari grinned at his boyfriend and grabbed his arm, then pulled to get him standing. “Any ideas?”

“It’s your house, you need to come up with something.” Mike responded, then yawned.

“Sure.” This time Ari’s response was less enthusiastic. He left his bedroom and stood in the middle of the corridor, thinking. “We could cook something?” He shouted back towards his bedroom.

“We’ll burn the kitchen before we make a single edible thing and you know that.” A reply quickly came back.

“Oh, don’t you dare insinuate such things about me. I’m perfectly capable of doing stuff in the kitchen.” Ari rolled his eyes. “I dunno…” His eyes wandered to the entrance to his brother’s room, the door slightly ajar. This gave him an idea. “Hey, you wanna play something on Jason’s PS5?”

“Your brother has a PS5?” Mike stuck his head out of the bedroom he was still in, clearly interested. 

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Ari smirked in response and opened the door to his brother’s room, letting Mike inside.

“Holy shit” He heard Mike’s reaction instantly “What a setup!”

“Yeah.” Ari entered the room and saw his boyfriend amazed at Jason’s gaming setup - a few consoles, a gaming PC covered in LEDs, all connected to a giant TV hanging from the wall opposite the bed. “The perks of having your parents work in finance, I guess.”

Mike, with his mouth still basically on the floor, moved to the side and looked at Jason’s giant games collection. “That’s… a shit tome of games, it’s insane.”

“That’s the reason he basically never leaves this room” Ari walked up behind Mike and put his chin on his partner’s shoulder. “You see anything interesting? Cause I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

“It seems your brother is a big fan of COD.”

“Of what?” Ari groaned “I need to put up a sign at the entrance - no gaming slang in this house.”

“Call of Duty. Your brother is a big fan of Call Of Duty.” Mike laughed “At least, I assume he is, cause he has a whole shelf filled only with every edition of COD there is.” He pointed and the shelf close to the floor and Ari had to agree with Mike. It was all Call Of Duty. While he was distracted, looking at hall the game boxes, Mike bent down and Ari, still leaning on his boyfriend’s shoulder, lost balance and almost fell down.

“Hey, watch out, gamer boy!” He said after he sat on the floor to be on the same level as Mike, who only laughed and patted Ari on the head.

“You’re gonna be fine” he said and picked up one of the games form the collection. “Huh.”

“What is it?”

“This” Mike put the box in front of Ari’s eyes “I don’t recognize this one.”

“Call Of Duty: Cyber Warfare II” Ari read the title on the box aloud. “Eh, doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Yeah, isn’t that exciting? Your brother has somehow got access to a brand new, possibly unreleased game. And we can play it right now!” Mike was clearly excited and he quickly got up to the console and put the in the game disc.

“Wow, this thing still uses discs?” Ari commented as he sat down on Jason’s bed, which also functioned as a couch.

“I guess so.” Mike joined Ari on the bed, two controllers in his hands. He handed one to his boyfriend and waited for the game to load.

“Didn’t expect to spend the evening learning all about your secret gamer lifestyle” Ari laughed.

“I mean… it’s not like I’m a fanatic or anything, but games allow me to relax form time to time.”

“Sure thing Mr. Gamer, now tell me what to do.” Ari waved his controlled in the direction of the TV, where the starting menu was displayed.

“Yeah, I think we should start with the tutorial first. Get you used to the controls and stuff.” Mike chose the appropriate option and they waited for the training stage to load.

They spend the next few hours in front of the TV, Mike trying to teach Ari the basics of playing a shooter with a controller. It didn’t go terribly and after a while both were ready to move on front eh tutorial, so they played a couple stages front he campaign and even tried to get into an online match, but the servers were not working, which made sense - the game was most likely a special pre-release copy and the infrastructure was not yet ready.

Both guys ended up falling asleep, first Ari after he put his head on Mike’s lap “for just a moment”, with his boyfriend following not long after. They slept while the game was still on, the glare from the TV not disturbing them in any way.

Ari opened his eyes. Then he closed them again. Something was not right. He blinked a couple of times. Where was he? Certainly not in his brother’s bedroom where he was sure he fell asleep. He was… what was this place? He didn’t recognize it, and it seemed like his eyes were playing with him because every object seemed to have this weird sort of texture. He looked around. It was some kind of deserted area, a forest in the distance and a bunch of old buildings and car wrecks in front of him. What the fuck was— Oh god! Wasn’t this the tutorial stage format he game he played with Mike? Ari turned around to make sure. Yeah, this was the exact same place!

What was happening? Why did it seem like he was transported into the game world? And what did he have to do to wake up form this bizarre dream? Ari looked down and sure enough, he was wearing full combat gear that he recognized form when he was playing the game with Mike. 

He started walking around the area, wanting to make absolutely sure this was indeed the tutorial stage. And all signs pointed to one answer - yes. Walking itself felt weird, not only because his body didn’t feel quite “right”, but also because this avatar was higher that Ari was. And bulkier, the avatar was certainly bulkier. Ari stopped for a moment and looked at his new body again. He put his arm in a flexing position and his eyes widened as he saw the bulky muscle moving under the uniform.

Ari was suddenly transported to a different side of the building. He wanted to move and continue his exploration, but he couldn’t. His body was stuck in some weird idling loop, moving the weight of his body form one leg to another, and checking on the rifle he was holding once in a while. It was hell, not being able to control his own body, instead he was stuck looking into the distance.

After god knows how long, something happened. Another avatar appeared in front of him. It was another soldier, but with visibly less gear than Ari. The other character looked around. Ari tried to say something to get his attention, but he wasn’t able to. He then realized there was a tag above the other avatar’s head. “Player”. Oh shit. Ari tried to look up, to see if he also had a tag above his head, but again - he could not move, stuck in that stupid animation loop.

The player slowly walked closer to him and suddenly Ari’s body moved to a different position and he felt his mouth moving.

“Come on, rookie. You gotta move. We have to take that target!” This was not his voice. It was low and rugged, nothing like Ari’s highish pitch. The player’s avatar nodded and started moving towards the building. After a moment Ari’s body started moving as well, turning around and walking behind the player. When they both entered the building Ari’s hands put his rifle close to his face and pointed it forward, constantly scanning the space around him. It didn’t take long for Ari to realize that he was the NPC that was leading players through the first tutorial stage. 

Mike slowly opened his eyes with a loud yawn. He then stretched his arms, which felt weirdly sore. He thought for a moment why would that be. Oh right, he did an evening workout yesterday. Huhuhuhuh, he was suck a dumbass sometimes. He raised his arm and flexed his beefy biceps, because why the hell not, he was a fuckin' hot brah. He then sniffed his pits. Damn, he reeked. He must have forgotten to get a shower. That scenario made more sense when Mike realized that the TV was turned on, with the main menu of one of the Call of Duty games was on screen. Mike chuckled and looked around for the controller. He must have decided to try out the new game only to fall asleep before he even got to the first stage. 

With the controller now back in his hand Mike decided to shower later and choose the “New Game” option in the menu. A character creator appeared in front of him, but Mike didn’t care about that stuff, he only wanted to shoot some bad guys, so he didn’t change anything in the avatar that appeared on the screen, eager to just play.

Finally, he was transported to the first real stage of the game. He groaned when he saw the words “Tutorial Stage” appear on the screen, but then shrugged and started playing. An NPC was running alongside him, sometimes giving him basic advice about how to use his weapon, how to sneak, how to change rifles. It was all stuff Mike knew form years of playing shooters like this one, so he ignored the one-liners form the gruff soldier and he quickly captured the target and moved on to the next map, quickly forgetting about the boring-ass tutorial mission.

Ari reached the end of the tutorial stage and turned towards the player. This took way less time than Ari remember it took him and Mike to get through this stage.

“Good job, recruit. You’re ready for the next mission.” Ari, or rather the NPC that Ari now inhabited, growled at the player. The other avatar then froze and disappeared quickly after, probably having been teleported to the next stage. Ari meanwhile was now alone in the ruins, but he regained control over his body. He used this opportunity to explore his new form. He was wearing full camo, a tactical vest with a ton of gear attached to it, a radio antenna sticking out next to his arm. He was holding a rifle and had access to a handgun, that stayed in a holster attached to his leg. But Ari focused most on the bulk that he was now carrying. Having been a proud twink before all… this, it was a change to now inhabit the body of a ripped soldier. He very quickly got used to it though and found himself flexing his various newly acquired muscles, loving the way his uniform bulged as me moved his arms and legs.

Suddenly, Ari froze and was then transported back to the beginning of the map but he saw no player avatar next to him. He was once again stuck in an animation loop, this time a mix of checking on his gun, looking around and flexing his arm. Though as time passed and there were no players in sight, Ari began to worry that maybe something went wrong. Maybe the game glitched and he would be stuck in this spot forever.

Then he hears a weird, robotic voice. Debugging algorithm activated. He didn't know wiat direction it was coming from… or maybe it was inside his head? He couldn’t say for sure.

His body suddenly froze in the middle of an idling animation, his arms stuck holding his rifle in front of him. Ari tried to move, but he was unable to. He couldn’t speak, move even one finger or blink. What the fuck was going on?

Then he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head as if someone injected a needle inside his skull. It felt terrible, but he had no way of stopping it. He was now at the mercy of the game.

As he waited for something to happen he realized that his mind became awfully quiet. No random thoughts about his jacked arms, no desperate planning on how to escape this nightmare, nothing. He was just standing, waiting for something to happen. This alarmed him, but before his anxiety could escalate, the voice spoke again. Operator TR#001067 requires additional reconditioning. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Was the voice talking to him? Ari had no idea what was happening and… wait.

Wait wait wait.

He suddenly realized he couldn’t remember his name. How the fuck could this be? He was… his name was… he…

Operator TR#001067. That was his name. But was it? It didn’t sound like—

Operator TR#001067. Yeah, that was certainly his name. His ID number was right there.

His mind was then flooded with clear memories of countless different scenarios for the tutorial stage, every possible player choice now ingrained in his head. At the same time, his memories of everything that happened before, of his family, his house, Mike, it disappeared behind a thick fog. He still felt like he was not where he was supposed to be but—

Of course he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He was... he was... it was.. Yes, it was—

Another player spawned next to Operator TF#001067, activating its dialog. The NPC turned around and faced the newcomer.

“Come on, rookie. You gotta move. We have to take that target!”

[stylesispunk]

'I love you, it's ruining my life' | Part ii

Joel Miller x f!reader

part one | part three

summary: The aftermath of your confession and how all it ended, for now.

w.c: 3,9k

warnings: angst and just angst. Perhaps grammar mistakes cuz even when I edited the chapter, I tend to be stupid.

a/n: As I promised, part 2 is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave it to the first part, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. This part will not be the end, so a third part is already in the works to end this mini story since I had to talk about the aftermath of the events in part 1 and I couldn't fit everything here, you know. Part iii may have a time jump. Happy ending or sad ending for these two?? Make your bets after reading this part. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

After what had just happened, you closed the door of your house with a slam, as if that would help you to silence the thump of your heart cracking with anguish. You didn't even get to savor the taste of Joel's lips on yours; they felt tainted by poison and treason creeping from the unfaithful actions of two people in a vulnerable state. You felt completely dirty by your actions; the tears streamed down your face, washing the warm hands of Joel over your checks away, with the salty rustling of his skin on yours.

After a few seconds, you recovered your composure, inhaling the smell of your soon-to-be ex-home. You looked around your living room; there were boxes containing all the memories you had made for the last eight years of your life inside, saved from the postmortem state. All the days, seconds, and years seemed illicit and foreign, and you could not stop crying.

You sat by the door, head on your knees, next to the window, stealing glimpses of a frantic Joel, who was now walking towards his car, getting away from you for real. Your heart broke even more because you knew that your confession didn’t matter and that you were destined to recall things you never did. He had made his choice. He was going to get married to another woman, and you weren’t going to witness such torture. 

You stood from the ground towards your bedroom, still crying from the hope you had that he was going to love you that way, but he didn't, and you couldn't blame him. He was a good man, one who knew how to love but not how to receive, or perhaps he didn’t want it from you.

As you retreated to your bedroom, the weight of your actions bore down on you like a crushing wave. Each step felt heavier than the last, burdened by the knowledge that you had irreversibly altered the course of your life and Joel's.

The tears continued to flow unabated, leaving a trail of salty bitterness in their wake. You collapsed onto your bed, the sheets offering little solace from the storm raging within you.

When you made your way upstairs, you didn’t know that Joel turned back towards your house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you again. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Guilt gnawed at him like a relentless beast, tearing apart his insides with every breath. He couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with its weight.

Every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn back, to run as far away from the mess he had created as possible. But something, perhaps a glimmer of hope or a desperate longing for closure, propelled him forward, urging him to face the consequences of his actions.

You loved him, and he loved you too. He had waited to hear those words for so many years, and now they felt like treason, and he felt like a villain.

With a trembling hand, he opened the door of this car and drove towards Tess’s house, not knowing this would be the last time you would be sleeping next to his house.

As Joel arrived at Tess's house, he was greeted by the warm glow of the porch light and the familiar scent of her perfume wafting through the air. But instead of feeling comforted by her presence, he couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled over him like a dark cloud.

As he stepped inside, Tess's worried expression immediately caught his attention. She approached him with a furrowed brow, her eyes searching his face for answers.

"Joel, I'm so glad you're here," she said, her voice tinged with concern.

“Of course, what seemed to be so urgent?”

"I...I called you because I needed to talk to you about something." She spoke.

Joel's heart skipped a beat as he listened to her words, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a heavy weight in his chest.

"What is it, Tess?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tess took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she spoke. "I couldn't shake this feeling, Joel. The thought of you spending the night after our wedding with...with her," she paused, unable to bring herself to say your name. "It just didn't sit right with me.” She paused, “We’re getting married tomorrow, and I just need to know that she won’t ruin our lives.”

“Why would she?” Joel asked, feeling an urgent desire to defend you.

Tess hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she struggled to find the right words. "I don't know, Joel. It's just that there's always been something between you two. Something I can't quite put my finger on."

Joel's heart sank at her words, the weight of guilt settling heavier upon him. He felt his heart exploding from the shame. He looked down at his hands, taking his time to gather all his courage and act like a man.

“I kissed her.” He confessed, and the silence sliced the skin of both. “I kissed her because I wanted to do it.”

As Joel uttered those words, a heavy silence descended upon the room, thick with the weight of his confession. Tess's eyes widened in shock, her hands trembling as she struggled to process the revelation.

The air hung heavy with tension as Joel's words echoed in the space between them, the truth of his betrayal leaving a bitter taste in the air. He could feel Tess's gaze boring into him, her expression a mix of disbelief and hurt.

"I... okay," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "We’ll pretend it didn’t happen, but she is not coming to the wedding, and you won’t see her again.”

Her attempts to mend an already broken trust were being stabbed with a knife.

"She won't because there won't be a wedding, Tess," Joel said, his voice filled with resignation. "I can't go through with it, not like this. Not when I know that I've already destroyed any chance we had at happiness. Not when I don’t know what I feel.”

Tess's eyes widened in shock at his words, her heart lurching painfully in her chest. She had never imagined that their love could unravel so completely and that the future they had planned together could crumble before her eyes.

“And you deserved a man who didn’t put his love for you in doubt when the woman he waited to love confessed her feelings to him,” Joel said.

Tears welled up in Tess's eyes as she looked at Joel, her voice trembling with emotion. "I...I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the weight of their shattered dreams.

Joel reached out to her, his hand trembling as he gently brushed away her tears. "I'm sorry, Tess," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... don't know what I want anymore."

Tess felt a surge of anger rise within her at Joel's words, the pain of his betrayal still raw and fresh in her heart. But beneath the anger, there was also a sense of resignation, a realization that their love had been built on shaky ground from the start.

"And what about her?" Tess asked, her voice tinged with bitterness. "What about her? Do you know what you want with her?"

Joel looked away, unable to meet Tess's gaze. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know anything anymore."

Tess felt a lump form in her throat at Joel's words, and the next thing Joel felt was a slap on his cheek.

Joel felt a pang of sorrow shoot through his heart at Tess's action, as if all her resentment had consumed him with the hit of her hand on his skin. Tess turned away before he could even realize it. Withit tears streaming down her cheeks, Joel knew that he had lost her for good. And though it pained him to admit it, he knew deep down that he deserved every bit of her anger and resentment.

And his thoughts drifted to you. For him, it was a feeling in his heart at the thought of not having you in his life anymore.

He had broken the hearts of two women last night, and he couldn't bear that feeling.

Joel woke up at noon the next day. There wasn't going to be a wedding that day. He had told Tess he had kissed you because he felt it. There were tears, yelling, slurs screaming at him, and even a slap when it was completely deserved.

He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of the previous night playing out in his mind like a never-ending loop. The tears, the yelling, the slap—it all echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.

Joel knew that there wasn't going to be a wedding that day and that the future he had envisioned with Tess had been shattered beyond repair. And as he lay there in the silence of his empty house, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of emptiness.

But even as his heart ached with longing, Joel knew that he had to face the consequences of his actions. He had hurt Tess, shattered her trust, and broken her heart, and he couldn't ignore the pain he had caused.

With a heavy sigh, Joel dragged himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, the bitter taste doing little to chase away the bitter taste of regret that lingered in his mouth.

As he sipped his coffee, Joel knew he had a long road ahead of him. He had to find a way to make amends and earn back the trust and forgiveness of those he had wronged. And amidst it all, he vowed to do whatever it took to hold onto the love he felt for you and to fight for a future where you could be together, despite the odds stacked against them.

Joel had met Tess two years ago. At first, it was something cosmic and faster, like spending some time together after he had fixed her house, but then the pages between them started to get written and Joel began to spend less time with you. You tried to dismiss the gut-wrenching feeling consuming your void inside, but you promised him to take care of Sarah, while he had taken the chance to bet on love once again.

He deserved it, but you wanted to be the one, and you consumed yourself into your own pity just for one glimpse of his smile, hoping someday he would notice you that way.

It was two months later when Joel invited you to meet Tess for the first time. As you stepped into the cozy café where they had arranged to meet, a pang of bittersweet emotion tugged at your heart. You couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at you, knowing that Joel was introducing you to someone who could potentially become his wife someday.

Despite the ache in your chest, you plastered on your best smile, determined to be supportive for Joel's sake. After all, you had promised to always be there for him, no matter what.

As Tess walked in, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joel, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. They were already sharing a secret language you would never get to understand. She was everything you weren't—beautiful, confident, and effortlessly charming. And as Joel introduced you to her, the weight of his hand on your shoulder felt like a silent reassurance, a reminder of the bond you shared as best friends.

You exchanged pleasantries with Tess, forcing yourself to push aside the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. You laughed at her jokes, engaged in small talk, and did your best to be the supportive friend that Joel needed you to be.

But beneath the façade of your smiles and laughter, your heart ached with a sense of loss. You were already grieving your friendship with Joel, as if you were feeling the distance growing between you both, as if his introduction of Tess marked the beginning of a new chapter—one where you would no longer be his sole confidante and companion.

And as you watched Joel and Tess interact, their laughter mingling in the air like a melody of happiness, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to stand in her shoes—to be the one who captured Joel's heart and made him smile in that way.

But despite the ache in your chest, you pushed aside your own desires and fears, burying them beneath layers of friendship and loyalty. Because in that moment, all that mattered was Joel's happiness, even if it meant sacrificing a piece of your own.

You made sacrifices for the people you loved.

As Joel's thoughts drifted back to the present, he tried to recall all the times he missed the way you glanced at him full of love, and he didn’t even notice. Even when he was the one looking out beyond the simple glimpses,.

He felt like a fool. Joel sat in the quiet solitude of his house, contemplating the light of the sun creeping through the window. His thoughts drifted to you once again and again. He knew that he needed to come to talk to you later to make amends for the pain he had caused and perhaps even begin to write a new chapter in your relationship. But deep down, he also knew that he needed time to heal himself and mend the wounds of his own heart before he could hope to repair the damage he had done to yours.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel was jolted back to reality when the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Turning his head, he watched as Tommy stepped into the house, a tired Sarah sleeping in his arms. The pitying glance that Tommy shot him didn't go unnoticed, a silent reminder of the wreckage of his almost-married life.

Joel offered a weak smile in return, his heart heavy with the weight of his own guilt and remorse. He knew that he had let everyone down—Tess, you, and even himself—and he couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment that hung over him like a dark cloud.

But as he watched Tommy and Sarah disappear into the other room, Joel knew that he couldn't wallow in self-pity forever. He had to find a way to pick up the pieces of his broken life and move forward, even if the road ahead seemed daunting and uncertain.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel didn't notice when Tommy returned to the living room, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. "Hey, Joel, why didn't you tell me?" Tommy asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Joel blinked, snapping out of his reverie as he turned to face Tommy. "Tell you what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Why didn't you tell me that “bubu” was moving out?" Tommy clarified; his tone was laced with concern. "I saw the moving truck leaving.

Joel's heart sank at Tommy's words, a wave of realization washing over him. He remembered now—the conversation from last night, your tearful confession that you were leaving for good. "She couldn’t be serious," he had whispered, the words heavy with disbelief and desperation.

Without another word, Joel stepped away from the couch, his movements heavy with purpose as he made his way towards the door. Ignoring Tommy's calls behind him, he pushed open the door and stepped outside, only to be met with the emptiness of your house next door.

The sight of your empty home, stripped bare of all its memories, hit Joel like a punch to the gut. The realization that you were truly gone, that he had let you slip through his fingers without a fight, left him feeling hollow and alone.

With a heavy heart, Joel sank to his knees on the doorstep, the weight of his regrets crushing him beneath their unbearable burden. And as he gazed up at the empty windows of your house, he couldn't help but wonder if he had lost you forever.

It was a warm summer afternoon when Sarah said her first word. You, Joel, and Sarah were lounging in the living room, playing with her favorite toys.

As Sarah babbled and cooed, her tiny hands reaching out to grasp at the colorful shapes before her, you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and wonder wash over you. Watching her grow and learn had become a highlight of your days, a bright spot in an otherwise ordinary existence.

“Bubu”

Joel's face lit up with pride and joy as he scooped up his daughter, a mixture of awe and amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Did she just say her first word?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder.

You couldn't help but laugh at Joel's playful jealousy, knowing that he was only teasing. "Oh my god, baby!" you cooed, reaching out to gently stroke Sarah's soft cheek. "You're just too clever for your own good, aren't you?"

"Bubu," Sarah repeated, her eyes sparkling with innocence as she reached out towards you, her chubby fingers grasping at the air.

"I can't believe she didn't say 'father' first," Joel joked, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckled at Joel's comment, feeling a surge of warmth fill your heart at the playful banter between father and daughter. "Don't be jealous, Joel," you teased, giving him a gentle nudge. "I'm 'Bubu'—that's a tough title to beat!"

And as Sarah continued to babble and coo, her laughter filling the room with its infectious joy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging there.

From that moment on, "Bubu" became your nickname, a term of endearment that Joel had bestowed upon you in honor of Sarah's first word.

And though the years had passed since that day and Sarah had long outgrown her baby talk, the nickname had stuck. It had become a symbol of the bond you shared with Joel and her, a reminder of the love and affection that had blossomed between you over the years.

Back in the present, Joel sat alone in his bedroom, the weight of his regrets heavy on his shoulders. The memories of the events that had unfolded in recent days weighed heavily on his mind, filling him with a sense of profound sorrow and remorse.

As he sat in the quiet solitude of his living room, Joel couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that seemed to permeate the air around him. The absence of your presence in his life had already left a void that seemed impossible to fill, a gaping wound that refused to heal.

And your letter on his hands weighs like the steam of a rose, making his hands bleed as the words written on it punctuate deep wounds in them.

“Joel,

As I sit down to write this letter, my heart feels heavy with the weight of everything that has happened between us. There are so many words I want to say and so many apologies I want to offer, but I know that mere words can never truly express the depth of my regret and remorse.

I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you and that every choice I made was made out of fear and confusion. But I know that my actions have caused you pain too, and for that, I am truly sorry.

I know that things between us may never be the same again and that the trust we once shared may be irreparably damaged. But I need time and space to heal and to find a way to live my life away from you.

I want you to know that I love you, Joel, more than words could ever express. You have been my rock, my confidant, and my closest friend, and the thought of losing you fills me with a pain that is almost too much to bear. My biggest expression of love is letting you go.

Please know that I will always cherish the memories we shared together, the laughter, the tears, and the moments of joy and sorrow that we experienced side by side. And no matter what the future may hold, those memories will always hold a special place in my heart.

I hope that one day we will be able to look back on this time with a sense of gratitude, knowing that it was the challenges we faced together that ultimately brought us closer. Until then, know that you are always in my thoughts, in my heart, and in my prayers. And know that no matter what happens, I will always love you, now and forever.

Have a wonderful wedding and a happy marriage with Tess. I hope you know you deserve to be loved.

I’ll miss you and Sarah so much."

With all my love,

Bubu or you can just call me by my real name now.

As Joel read the words of your letter, each sentence pierced his heart like a dagger, reopening wounds that had barely begun to heal. The weight of your words pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket, leaving him feeling numb and hollow inside.

He hadn’t gotten married, and you thought he had. You left thinking he got married to another woman.

The realization that you were truly gone, that you had made the agonizing decision to leave him behind, sent a wave of despair crashing over him. He felt as though the ground had been pulled out from beneath him, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty and pain.

Tears welled up in Joel's eyes as he read the final lines of your letter, your words of farewell echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain. The emptiness of your absence loomed large in the room, a stark reminder of all that he had lost.

With trembling hands, Joel clutched the letter to his chest, as if holding onto it could somehow keep you from slipping away from him completely. But deep down, he knew that no amount of pleading or begging could change your mind, that you had made your decision, and there was nothing he could do to change it for now.

You were truly the biggest loss of his life; there was too much to grieve and yet so much to hold onto. He was going to go back for you, but he had to heal that part of him that pushed you away from him and let you find yourself before he could come back into your life again.

.......

I'm tagging people who asked me and those who asked for a part 2, if you want to be removed you can tell me 💌

💌 taggs: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller

[blacknedsoul-blog]

An unnecessarily detailed analysis of the (re)encounter between Annabel and "Leo" (part II)

Evil tongues say I've had this shit in the oven for several weeks because I bought the fast pass on episode 105 and smoked the whole season one afternoon when I was bored as a fucking oyster about to climb the walls. Don't listen to them, they're telling the truth.

So, yeah, people. We had a flashback. One that comes right after the last one we had. Aside from the fact that we finally know a little more about Theo, I want to focus on the direct sequel to a review I did a while back. So let's get started.

I'm still trying to decide if Annabel is complaining just because she had to get off her ass or because "Leo's" room being so far away from hers is, ahem, inconvenient. Another detail that someone mentioned on the discord, is that Annabel does this thing where she grabs her dress when she is trying to maintain the performance.

(later edit: someone commented to me that actually their rooms are ridiculously close to each other. So allow me to insert ridiculous jokes about how the first thing Ira will do when these two are engaged is take his precious daughter who is not to be touched before marriage somewhere else).

...Ah, they put... they put Annabel in Lenore's old room. Yeah, that must have been uncomfortable as shit. 

Okay. This is something I kind of suspected in her first stolen moment at the Arboreum, but I think this confirms it for me: yes, Lenore teasing Annabel is a way of expressing annoyance without being directly hurtful. 

Raise your hand if you enjoy seeing "Miss Proper Lady" lose her fucking temper. Bonus points if she deserves it. 

Lenore, I don't know if taking your clothes off is the best way to get Annabel to stay on topic. I do want to emphasize her face in that moment, though, like she knows Annabel cares about her, but she's still angry at her, and pressuring her to drop the mask is literally the only way she has to express it. I like it because it's consistent with her stolen moment in the Arboreum. 

"Admire this magnificent door made of door. Yes, an excellent door. Wonderful door. Eyes on the door, Annabel, eyes on the door and not on your crush taking off his jacket in front of you. Also, don't think too much about the fact that if anyone sees this, everything that is important to you will fall apart".  

Pause. Where did we see Annabel say that? Ah, yes. Well, if we had any doubts about posh besties, this confirms it. 

I want to linger on the faces of both of them in this scene because, for the love of Nyarlathotep, they are painful to watch knowing that this will end with both dead. 

Yes, Annabel, this "perhabs" was very VERY serious. 

I'm sure this is the second time in Annabel's life that someone has asked her if she wants something. And it's the same person. Ouch.

Does anyone else in the squad find it disturbing that ANNABEL is concerned about moral issues? 

That's not how Kabedons are made, missy. 

LENORE, LOOK AT THE FUCKING FACE SHE'S LOOKING AT YOU WITH, SHE WOULDN'T BE "PRETENDING TO BE IN LOVE WITH YOU", SHE'S EATING OUT OF YOUR FUCKING HAND RIGHT NOW. IF SHE WASN'T AFRAID OF JAIL AND WASN'T SO VICTORIAN, SHE'D BE ASKING IF SHE COULD GET IN YOUR PANTS.   

Okey, I need to know how this went from "pff, it's not a real marriage, we're both women!" to "I'm gonna fuckin' whore myself with Nyarlathotep Tumblrsexymen to come get you, baby. Shit, if these two die without having this conversation, I'm going to shoot myself in the mouth with a medieval arquebus. 

I like this moment because it tells you two interesting things: one is that Annabel must have a complicated relationship with her father, she cares for him and maybe feels he loves her in his own way, but at the same time Ira is her jailer, the main culprit of the golden cage she's trapped in. Another thing: we know Lenore used to care about her father, but come on, after everything that happened, I doubt she gives the man a second thought. 

...I wrote practically the exact same dialog in a fanfic. Actually, in the first Nevermore fanfic I ever wrote, when the fuck did my bullshit ever come true? 

I was racking my brain for a while about why Annabel keeps doing this. Like, look at this shit, even Ada or Morella would be able to see that this is bullshit. And I think I have an idea why. 

I think Annabel started to figure out how to make this work even before she came in. Maybe she's not all in, but at least the idea is tempting. The thing is, she's putting a lot on the line here: her life, her relationship with her father (the only family member we know of), what little freedom she has.

And that means she has to put her chips on the right person. She knows how the social game works, she knows how to manipulate the stakes of her hand, maybe she even thinks she knows how to get around those pesky legal snags when they come up. 

But she's not cunning, she's not quick-thinking, she lacks determination, and she's definitely not brave. Lenore can wrap herself in big dreams and beautiful words all she wants, but if she can't make up for Annabel's weaknesses, it's a losing bet from the start. On top of that, she has to be able to read her: in Victorian engagements, even your pet was into that shit, so sneaking away to plan things would be more of a rare privilege than a constant, her playmate has to be able to understand her perfectly, because they can't waste valuable time explaining minutiae. They have to be on the same page to the millimeter. 

Annabel is a player. And as such, she knows that in games where you have a partner, the key to winning isn't playing your own cards or chips well, it's being able to synchronize with your partner to give each other better plays until one of you manages to win. 

And if I had to bet, I think that is the Lenore that Annabel wants back: the Lenore who can read her, the Lenore who can get under her skin and know her true intentions even when Annabel is wearing the most perfect mask. The Lenore who can smile boldly and tell her that everything will be all right. 

Of course, Lenore passed the test. With a more than perfect score. 

The chapter ends with Lenore giving Annabel the final decision: if she sees no reason to stay, she won't, and she can assure her that she'll be fine. But if she's in, she'll do everything in her power to make it work. 

This was the moment that tore me up inside because it made me drop the shingle of sad, sad shit. 

Conclusions

And here's why I decided to post this analysis after the season.  

One thing this episode told me was that I was wrong about one thing: the relationship between these two isn't exactly what it used to be. What this episode also told me was that, despite everything, the two of them seemed to be able to communicate and find common ground, to make deals, to give each other choices. Shit we don't see anymore in their time in Nevermore. 

And with good reason.

In Nevermore Annabel and Lenore are adrift. No memories, no identity, no bonds. As if that weren't enough, both are terrified: Annabel has built all her means of survival around a context that she masters perfectly, and in Nevermore she doesn't know what's going on; on the other hand, Lenore's bravery and cunning are qualities that turn from virtues to flaws in a context where every single one of her decisions has repercussions for the people around her; she's willing to take anything, but not what happens to the people she loves. 

These two idiots know only one thing: that they love each other. And for Annabel and Lenore, loving means protecting. They have to try to protect each other because they really love each other. They love each other so much that they can't.

Because the only way for Annabel to protect Lenore is to be the queen of the board, to be the piece that everyone wants to get out of the way because her presence is too much of an inconvenience, because if she's good at anything,  it's dazzling so hard that no one is able to really see her. On the other hand, the only place Lenore can protect Annabel is by her side, she won't have a Spectre, but she's willing to do what it takes to take care of her if she stays where she can fight for her. 

But that won't happen because of the irreconcilable conflict caused by the memory (false or not, in practice it doesn't matter) that the Deans showed Annabel. She can't tell her that, she won't tell her that, how could she? It would tear Lenore apart and at worst alter her memories. But on the other hand, Lenore obviously wants to know, because she sees that Annabel is suffering, she wants to be there, she wants her to let her comfort her, to be by her side to help her sort this out, and all her pleas fall on deaf ears for reasons she can't even fathom.

But without realizing it, in all this devotion and accompanying fear, Annabel and Lenore are repeating the same controlling patterns of those who tried to save the other in life. 

Annabel is doing the same thing Thaddeus did when he got Lenore a fiancé, the same thing the doctors did when they kept her drugged 24/7 as a treatment even though she was sick, dare I say the same thing Theo did: assuming she knows better than she does what's good for her. "Protecting" her, even when that happens to be the agency Lenore is desperately trying to have over her life after being deprived of her freedom.

And on the other hand...this.

By taking full responsibility for what happened, Lenore is doing the same thing as Ira and all the people we meet in Annabel's life: denying her agency as an individual. Annabel is not a naive brat who was seduced by sweet words, she is a grown woman who was very, very clear about what the risks were. That they both ended up dead is partly her fault, but by turning this affair into "if I hadn't gone looking for you," Lenore completely invalidates Annabel's feelings, desires, and choices. 

A relationship that was once built on respect for choice and shared decision-making has now become a power game that neither can win, because one of the most important foundations of their relationship is that they are both equals. 

I'd like to end this on a more positive note, but...uh...well, the thing is, I don't. Like, that they're going to reconcile, they're going to reconcile, you know? But for that to happen, somebody's got to give them a massive punch like, something that tears them apart so they realize how fucking bad they are do-

You know what? Yeah, that might do it.

[allur1ngs]

✮ colder hearts ✮

TW: mentions of violence, guns, typical mafia activities, arranged marriage (what can i say, i'm a sucker for tropes), age gap--bada is in her mid to late twenties and reader is in her early-ish twenties, bada speaks pretty formally bcs in this au i feel like she'd be extremely professional even when it comes to her loved ones, not edited bcs i got too excited and wanted to put this out asap so please ignore any mistakes

SUMMARY: your arranged marriage to older!cold!mafia boss!bada lee unfolds, revealing that there's more than just ice behind her cold heart.

part ii. enflame

WC: 1.9k

A/N: a lot of thoughts have been stewing in my mind thanks to @beetlejuicyy 's awesome mafia!bada content, + isabel larosa's song older!! this is just for fun!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada's actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who, despite being older than you, is still considered too young to be a leader in the mafia business, which had initially made her a target of turf wars.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who, despite all odds, won every single one of the battles because of her cunning strategies and equally talented members.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who becomes known for her cutthroat and merciless deals. She might be younger in the mafia scene, but she proved her commitment to her business when she had one of her lackeys killed for fumbling a job.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA whose engagement to you comes as a surprise. Having known nothing about your parent's business beyond the large amounts of money they made, you were shocked to find them sitting across from the infamous Bada Lee, the leader of the mafia crew, Bebe.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who has an undeniable, powerful presence. Even her simply sitting on the polished leather seats in your living room had you intimidated. Her blank stare sweeping across your entire being in mere seconds, boring her dark brown--almost greyish eyes into yours, never breaking eye contact for a second. there's a clear hierarchy in this room, and it's clear to everyone you're at the bottom of it.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who, along with your parents, spare no time explaining her sudden appearance. words echo in the golden-trimmed room at impossible speeds, words like "marriage", "business deal", "protection", "money" deafen your ears and cause your skin to prick up.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who speaks to you then, her calculating eyes noticing the lost look in your own.

"We are going to be wed." She cuts through the jabbering voices of your parents, immediately causing them to fall silent. "I will provide you with a lifestyle grander than you could ever imagine, and your parents and I will secure a firm partnership as a result."

You remain silent only for a brief moment. "And what will you gain from this arrangement?"

Bada's lips form a thin line. It's not as if she hadn't expected you to speak up, but your question mildly surprises her. "Your parent's partnership..." she trails off for a moment, her sharp eyes finding your parent's figures, then sliding back to yours. "and your companionship."

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who makes it clear to you when you move into her personal home--or more accurately--mansion, that you are not a piece of meat to her, or a body to warm her bed.

"I asked your parents to inform you of our arrangement beforehand." She stands tall before you, her black suit crisp and free from wrinkles as her long, thin fingers come to pinch the bridge of her nose in mild annoyance. "But it's clear to me from your demeanor when we first met that you were not." She sighs quietly, then removes her fingers from her nose bridge. She watches you silently before approaching you in long strides, now standing inches away from you. "You are under no obligation to stay with me. Say the word and you will be returned to your parents, and our union will be resolved. No consequences, no questions asked."

Despite knowing her for such little time, her words surprise you. The way she speaks to you is gentle, yet stern.

You're thrown for a loop. Just who is Bada Lee?

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who, despite being confident in what she can provide first you, is surprised when you turn down her offer to return to your parents. It seems your union will remain intact.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who shows you her professionalism when laying out what is expected of you.

"There are only three things I ask of you while you stay with me." She holds up three corresponding fingers in the air. "One, you must never lie to me."

Her finger drops as she uses her other hand to gesture to the rest of her crew who stand behind her.

"Everyone in this room is here because they have never once lied to me in their life." She explains. "Truth is something I value more than anything, so I promise to never lie to you. Of course, I expect the same from you."

"What about little white lies?" You cut in.

"White lies mean nothing to me." Bada dismisses. "But never lie to me about something important."

The next rule she declares seems easy enough.

"Number two, loyalty." She places another finger down. "Pretty self-explanatory."

You nod absentmindedly, trying to ignore how every moment you remain in the room with Bada and her crew, you become more and more nervous.

"The last and the most important," Bada leans over her sleek desk, her eyes lowering while she stares at you. "do not put yourself in unnecessary danger. You are under my care now, so your health and safety is my first priority. Never compromise them."

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who sets firm boundaries with you.

"I want to make it clear to you that despite our wedding in the future," Bada licks her lips, her hands clasping together in front of her in a firm position. "I will not fall in love with you."

Your expression quickly twists into a look of confusion. Companionship, she had said.

"Feelings make business more difficult. Makes it harder for me to protect you." She says flatly. "I am more than happy to be another acquaintance of yours, or someone you cast aside while you enjoy the fruits of the lifestyle I can provide you."

"I like neither of those options." You respond somewhat bitterly. When you were told you'd be engaged, you expected for there to be at least some semblance of feelings between you and your betrothed. A lifetime of coldness and solitude was not something you signed up for.

"Then," Bada’s cold demeanor slips for a second, and if you weren’t paying so much attention to her in that moment, you would have missed it. “we can be friends."

And for the first time, you see her lips settle into a half smile.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who immediately gives you a card with funds for you to spend wherever you want, and whenever you want.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who assigns one of her most trusted and talented members to be your bodyguard. When she said your safety was her priority, she wasn't lying.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who's surprised when you come to visit her the following morning, carrying a tray of breakfast foods.

"Good morning." She greets you, her eyes quickly moving from the food in your hands to your eyes. You’ve noticed that Bada loves making eye contact when she speaks to you.

"Good morning." You greet back. Although the smile on your lips doesn’t fully reach your eyes, you’re trying your best to stay positive. You never know, your friendship with the mafia boss before you could end up being beautiful.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visitation?" Her words fall from her lips in a soft cadence, careful to make sure her tone doesn’t make it seem like she’s bothered by your presence.

Which is strange, she realizes. She hates being disturbed in the morning. It’s when her best ideas come to her.

"I thought," you begin while placing the breakfast tray in front of her. "if we are going to be friends, we might as well get to know each other."

Bada’s lips form a smirk as she leans back into her chair, her legs spreading apart.

"And…" you smile at her. "I heard you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet."

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who allows you to stay in her office for as long as possible, trying to convince herself that it's not because she's entranced by how you smile brightly at her when she engages in conversation with you, or how you cover your mouth to laugh at something she's said. No, it's definitely not because of that.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who starts to look forward to your morning visits. When she's particularly busy and you have to cut your conversation short, she feels a weight lift off her shoulders the second her eyes scratch your figure walking down the halls of your shared home, your bodyguard following after you diligently.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who tells your bodyguard to only take you to stores that are managed by her partners. She knows they'd never hurt you. You're her bride-to-be, after all.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who's in a particularly boring business meeting when she receives a call from your bodyguard on her personal phone. Her eyebrows immediately shoot up, a frown settling on her lips. She only receives calls from her personal phone when there's an emergency.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA whose heart drops when she hears your bodyguard shout into the phone that a rival gang had decided to have a shootout in the area where you'd been shopping for groceries.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who in a panicked, yet stern and chilly voice tells your bodyguard to protect you at all costs while she calls for backup.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who breaks multiple laws to speed to the grocery store, practically throwing herself into a street with bullets flying everywhere and broken glass littering the floor. She doesn't care. She runs into the store, shouting your name before ducking behind a turned-over shelf.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who breathes a sigh of relief when she hears you call out to her, your bodyguard shooting at a rival gang member that was about to enter the store. She rushes over to you, using her body to block you from the onslaught outside the store.

"Are you okay?" Bada's wide eyes find yours, then sweep over your body, looking for any injuries. "Are you hurt?" Her hands come to clutch the sides of your face, only pausing for a second when she sees a semi-long cut running along the soft skin of it.

"I'm fine." You breathe, your hands resting on top of hers. "Just surprised--"

"You're hurt." The way she says the words breaks your heart. It's like she'd been the one wounded, with how her eyes turn to large, sad pools, and her frown tugs down even further.

You flinch, one of your hands moving from hers and coming up to touch the cut on your cheek. "I didn't even notice--"

Before you can finish your sentence, Bada had already leaned in, her plush and soft lips pressing a gentle kiss onto the skin next to your wound.

When she pulls away you're stunned by her loving gesture, but neither of you is able to say anything before she quickly gathers your body into her arms, and cradles you close like she's scared of losing you.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who doesn't hesitate to dispose of anyone who threatens to harm you.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who after that incident, only refers to you as her fiancée. Not as a form of endearment--of course not--but just as a form of respect to your upcoming union.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who with every passing day, finds it harder to fight the warmth she feels when her eyes take in your form.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who'd fallen in love with you the day she'd met you, despite how hard she tried not to.

[water-lemon-alex]

@dailyiiwheelship END-OF-MONTH REPORT

February Edition!

Happy birthday, Prize Wheely! Sorry for not being so active these past two weeks, but I’m bored and I’m BACK!!! The spreadsheet, after an ENTIRE MONTH, has been updated! mostly! but bare with me please! This is my birthday present to you~

February, the month of love! With only 28 days on the month this year, we have 28 ships! 24 new duos, and 4 new poly ships!

CURRENT STANDINGS

Taco and Yin-Yang have fallen off the podium for the most rolled character overall, making only Apple and Silver Spoon the most rolled characters at 14 each!

A lot has changed this month for our previously least rolled character MePad, who has now been paired with 4 characters ever since. Balloon now has the least amount of rolls with only 3.

Love is in the air for rarepairs galore! Or was that the condishawn? Out of the four Polyship Fridays this month, THREE of them have Tissues in it! Making Tissues take OJ and Clover’s title for Biggest Poly Joiners, alongside Apple once more! Apple retains her titles!

The characters that have appeared the most this month are Bomb, Tissues and MePad! Congrats, MePad!

The funniest part is that Valentines month for the ship wheel doesn’t even feature our only canon couple, OJ and Paper, even at least once! What a sad day…

FEBRUARY HALL OF FAME (100+ notes as of 3/2)

There are only 2 that have reached this milestone. Congrats if your favorite ship is one of these two:

PickleTube (TESTICKLE??????????)

BoxCase

An honorable mention is PepPickMarsh, our Valentine’s Day Ship of the Year! You go, polyamorous veterans!

March is the month of II Season 1’s remaster! May March be a bountiful month for the Inanimate Insanity fandom!

Now for the sentimental part: Happy birthday again, Prizey! I’m sorry for going radio silent on you, but rest assured, every day when I’m at school right before lunch break finishes, or when I’m just on my bed scrolling on a weekend and the clock strikes 1PM, I always look forward to the ship of the day, because seeing these different dynamics from other people’s tags make me so happy! Sometimes I come back from a bad day, but then I see a cute ship come out and it makes my day better! I’ve been following your blog since Day 3, and seeing this blog grow a new genre of OSC gimmick blogs makes me so proud! This post, this spreadsheet, is a love letter to that. (sorry there’s no art tho! i’d love to draw prizey but its pretty late and i have to fully update the sheet) Thank you again for being a boost of motivation each day.

(from my friend willock LMAO for context i called you prize wheely)

Lemi, signing off! -🍉🍋

< Previous - Next >

[lessi-lover]

exposed II c.foord x reader

i awake from my three month coma of boring pointless assignments. here it is loves. (half assed) will edit later dw x

★ exposed II c.foord x reader

"-don't make it awkward! just say your first name and.. i don't know be your pretty self!" the forward grinned, as she sat down next to you on the couch. "caitlin foord do not lecture me about interview etiquette! if anything i should be giving you a lecture, miss australia!"

playfully smacking your thigh, she grabbed both your shoulders turning your body towards her. "oi. some respect for the girlfriend here! am i clear?" she asked, shaking your body in her arms.

"crystal." you answered, the sides of your lips curling into your signature kennedy smirk, adjusting the small mic that was clipped to your clothing, shaking your head mockingly. lightly patting your hair down neatly, you quickly turned to wipe the small remnants of a flat white off the corner of your girlfriends lips.

"ready for the questions girls?" the interviewer asked, a pen and pad in hand as she made her way behind the screen that showed you the different questions. "as we'll ever be." the aussie winked cheekily, letting go of your previous position and settling a more sizeable distance across from you.

"3.. 2.. 1.. and action!" the cameraman shouted, his fingers raising above the lense to represent each second until the interview would start. "hey i'm y/n kennedy." you introduced yourself, looking over to caitlin as she snickered. "stop it," you mouthed, your hand moving to swipe her shoulder. "hi i'm caitlin foord." she said, face moving off you and back onto the camera.

looking at the screen in front of you, you watched as it now asked you to play 'rock, paper, scissors,' both your eyes lighting up at the game. turning your body sideways, you let your legs lay over the aussie's lap, her hand coming to rest on top of your thighs.

"rock, paper, scissors. shoot!" you both said in sync, your hands waving in the air, as your head fell backwards in laughter. "wait, does that mean i go first?" you asked, pointing your finger towards yourself. the interviewer nodded, a bright smile on her face.

"oh, the pressure's on!" your girlfriend cheered, lifting your hand to rest in her lap as she played with your fingers. looking back at the interviewer, you nodded for her question. "how did you two meet and what was your first impression of caitlin?"

"cait is one of my sister's best friends and when i got drafted for the national team she was the first person who called me." you said, breaking out into a smile as you let your mind wander back to when you and the forward were introduced to each other.

as your gaze wandered to caitlin, you caught sight of her grinning at you, knowingly smiling she had completely forgotten she was being filmed. "my first impression of you was.. that you were really loud and funny." you giggled, thinking back to the grubby, obnoxious teenage version of your now girlfriend.

"and now?" the interviewer questioned, a glint of humour in her eyes. the media was notorious for pinning you and caitlin together as a couple, although you had never officially labeled yourselves as an item. so you just went along with your business, ignoring what anybody had to say about the two of you.

"she's the most annoying, irritating, blanket stealer who never wants to watch the movies i want to watch and never lets me leave the bed-." you blab, fingers mockingly listing each trait. "only because you're warm!" she defended, arms crossing over chest.

"only joking baby." you apologised, your hands weaving together as you brought her knuckles sweetly under your chin.

pausing for a moment, you looked at the screen, reading the question before continuing. "caitlin what about having other australians at club level is important to you?" the interviewer now asked caitlin, who's cheeks reddened when she was caught of guard.

"everything!" she said quickly and you could see it her eyes that she wasn't really listening just by the way the tips of her ears had gone slightly pink. "that doesn't answer the question." you giggled, feeling a pinch to the side of your hip.

your legs found their way onto caitlin's lap, her hand gently rubbing circles into your skin. "thanks girls! we're going to move onto the second part of the interview is that alright?" the woman smiled, handing you bottles of water as she walked off.

caitlin still gently rubbing side, she quickly pulled your attention back to her. "your my best girl." she murmured softly, turning to wrap her arms around your waist, resting her head against your shoulder. "don't tell anybody else that though," she added. giving you a kiss to the lips when nobody was watching.

you pecked her cheek, the brunette letting out a soft laugh as she watched you blush. "oh! did i make the big bad y/n kennedy blush?" she chuckled, reaching out to pinch your cheeks. "i can't help it when you look at me like that." you responded, your face all flustered.

"like what?" she exclaimed, hands cupping your face kissing all over cheeks. laughing loudly you rested on the back of your heels, as she squished your face together.

"cait!"

~

"like lovesick puppies the two of them." your sister gagged, covering her mouth as she watched her best friend fawn over her younger sister. "can you knock it off?" she yelled, slapping your heads away from each other, as you turned to pinch her forearm.

since the interview had been publicized, you and caitlin had decided that you were done pretending your relationship was strictly a friendship. before you could blink, you and the forward had felt comfortable to go out on several dates, the eyes of the public no longer an issue for the two of you.

"what's wrong princess lani? is our kissing not up to your standards?" your girlfriend teased, hand reaching out to smack the head of her best friend. the blonde had been determined to stop the two of you from being together all of camp, the blonde clearly not a fan of your infatuation for one another.

"sure. whatever it takes to stop the two of you from locking lips every five seconds." she glared, shrugging as she continued looking at her phone. not paying a word of mind to you, she missed the way the brunettes gaze immediately fixated back on you.

"oh leave them alone lans, your just grouchy you haven't had your morning coffee yet." mackenzie spoke from beside the blonde, a pair of headphones covering her ears, although she still managed to catch whiff of the conversation.

"thank you mac!" you smiled, reaching you hand out to highfive the goalkeeper, as she leaned further into her seat blocking out the noisiness of the bus.

turning back to your girlfriend, you weren't in the least surprised to see her already looking at you. it was only a few seconds before you inevitably locked lips again. you mouths melted against each other and you felt yourself smile into the kiss.

"ow! what the fuck alanna!" you heard caitlin gasp pulling back from her body. turning around you were met with a similar sight to that of a younger you; your sister sitting in her seat with a notorious kennedy look, bluntness painted on her face as she stared blankly ahead.

"would you please stop swapping saliva for at least a fucking minute? or are you so incapable of keeping your hands to yourselves!" she groaned, with a stern look you knew all too well. only responding with a huff and a roll of you eyes, you let yourself be distracted by the commotion around you.

although it was only peaceful for a total of five seconds before you were promptly attacked with a series of shouts from your australian teammates. many of them not getting the hint that you and the aussie forward had been dating for several years, only realising when they saw the interview.

"i knew it! why didn't you tell us! i always knew there was something going on between you two! if that interview wasn't enough proof i don't know what is! can i be a bridesmaid when you get married pretty please!

~

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter AU Crossover ideas. Port Mafia Edition

Previous posts [I] [II] [III] [V] [VI] [VII] [VIII] [IX]

💉 Ougai Mori has his own nemesis. Zhongli hurt you and made you fear Mori's voice. Mori's goal is to destroy Zhongli's precious Liyue. Ougai will shower you with gifts, while you are recovering.

🍷 Even if all people with Geo Vision, Azdaha and Morax in a peak of his power will try to stop him, they won't stop Chuuya Nakahara. He won't even need to use the Corruption. He will make them pay for what they have done to you.

Chuuya will bring you gems he found in Teyvat. If the gems in question are valuable on Earth, he will sell them and will use the money on whatever you want. You can burn them, donate them, save them.

🌂 Kouyou Ozaki will become the nightmare for Inazuma's citizens. She and Golden Demon are silent and deadly. And no one will suspect a thing, Ranpo will make sure of it.

She will spend time with you, will let you pet Golden Demon.

🇫🇷 Paul Verlaine will become Teyvat Nightmare. Back in the app, he got his powers back, thanks to the messing with cards. If needed, he will unleash Demonic Beast Guivre on seven nations.

He will let you bride his hair. Makes sure, that you are healthy and happy.

🎧 Arthur Rimbaud is back to being a spy. He is ready to go to any nation he needs (even Snezhnaya). He and Verlaine will sabotage Dottore's work.

His hyperspace became one of the safest places for you. He will share his coat with you.

🏍️ Albatross is staying by your side, but, he is ready to sabotage any vehicle from Teyvat. He will take you on a motorcycle rides.

🧑‍⚕️ Doc is always checking your health. People of Teyvat take a number on you, and, while Yosano's ability did its job, he is concerned about mental scars.

🧊 While Iceman doesn't bear any grudges, he will make an exception for Teyvat's people. He will show them the hit man of Port Mafia.

He will listen to his records together with you.

🗣️ Lippman is doing his best in negotiating and tricking Teyvat officials. One day, even 'The Creator', that order to hunt you, will fall for his lies.

He will arrange spontaneous spa days for you. Your skin and hair were never that pretty.

🎹 Piano Man is using his skills to create fake mora. Mora are important not only as money, but in an alchemy. Soon Teyvat citizens won't be sure, if their money are real or not.

He will tell you funny stories he has heard. If it makes you happy, he will pronounce you an Honorary Flags member.

🧥 Akutagawa Ryunosuke and Rashomon like a black storm tear through Teyvat. Nothing will stop them. He feels guilty. He is your bodyguard and he failed you. He will undo his mistakes.

While on Earth, he won't leave your side. Will make hammock from Rashomon for you.

🔫 Ichiyou Higuichi is another spy. She will gather information from Liyue, getting close to Ninguang.

Will bring you fresh rumors.

🚬 Ryuurou Hirotsu is dealing with Treasure Hoarders and other criminal organizations. Black Lizards knew, how to show low criminals their place.

He will tell you stories about his youth (some of them are fictional, but, he is happy, when these stories make you smile).

🔪 Gin Akutagawa is a spy in Inazuma. She will get into Narukami Shrine as one of the shrine maidens.

She and Akutagawa will spend quiet evenings with you, watching movies.

🩹🧲 Tachihara Michizou is overworked. He is dealing with criminal organizations of Teyvat as Port Mafia member, and with official organizations of Teyvat (Fatui, Knights of Favonius...) as Hunting Dog. He won't stop. He wants to make them pay. Tachihara will use his ability to destroy factories.

🍰 Elise is staying near you. She is making sure, that you always have snacks and water. She will let you choose her outfit, take her to a shopping trip. She will listen to everything you say.

Waiting for the day she and Mori will face against Zhongli.

💎 Karma is reading you your favorite books. Doesn't matter, if the book is boring or scary, he will read it to you. Always worried about you.

⭐⭕ Kyuusaku Yumeno are waiting. From time to time, they are called by Mori to take a stroll in the main city of random nation. And every time, the stroll ends up in injuries. Not Q's.

They will try to make you smile. Offered you to play or cuddle with their doll.

🍋 Kaji Motojirou will drown Teyvat markets in lemon bombs. And, until his command, they won't detonate. He is waiting for a signal.

Kaji will show you easy and interesting scientific experiments.

🍛 Oda Sakunosuke is taking care of you. While he is ready to go to Teyvat, he decided to spoil you and make happy.

_____

Tag list: @withered-blossoms

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Gabe/Stephen; largesse (pt II)

For the prompt: Gabe and Stephen being sappy at SOME point

Follows this.

Early on, Gabe worries he’s wrong about his 'Stephen loves holidays' thesis: Easter’s during Passover that year, and neither of them do anything for it, unless you count Stephen buying a few bags of mini eggs from the drug store when they go on clearance after, and Gabe doesn’t. At this point mini eggs are entirely secular — they’re not even a seasonal thing. Gabe saw a Christmas edition of them a few months back, though he’s not sure how eggs are supposed to be involved in Christmas. Maybe another gift for Santa? Cookies and milk aren't a very well-balanced diet, some eggs can't hurt.

But then Mother’s Day arrives, and while Gabe orders his mom flowers, Stephen leans over him, sighing about needing to get his mom something, but not flowers, because his mom doesn’t like flowers, she always makes things difficult, why can’t she just like what everyone else does. This is the third straight day of their annual tradition of brainstorming what to get Anouk — twice annual tradition, actually, it comes up on her birthday too, and probably at Christmas, now that Gabe’s thinking about it, it’s just that Stephen worries about what to get everyone for Christmas, with the exception of Gabe and his parents, and that’s just because he worries about what to get them for Hannukah instead.

And then Father’s Day comes around, and Stephen goes through the exact same process for getting Johan a gift. Then Beth’s birthday, and that Stephen pretends not to care about at all, but then gets her and Anna tickets to a Taylor Swift concert in Toronto that summer, and Gabe’s pretty sure securing those involved either a sizeable amount of time, money, or both.

Gabe’s not proud to say it takes until Johan’s birthday in October to really click into place. Obviously he’s had some suspicions, or he wouldn’t have been observing Stephen’s demeanour so closely, but honestly, he does that as a matter of course — it’s easier than listening to what Stephen says about how he’s feeling, which is usually not true. And that’s if he’s even willing to talk about it, which isn't likely.

Once again, Stephen’s bitching about how hard it is to buy things for his dad, who is, admittedly, not an easy man to find gifts for, and Gabe finally sees right all the way through Stephen's ‘why is gift giving so frequent, it’s absurd’ speech to the fact that it’s honestly not hard to find a gift for someone if you don’t give a shit whether they like it.

Stephen apparently gives so many shits. Innumerable shits. So Gabe figures he can help him out a bit. Do some research, attempt to make a list.

“I doubt most of them are up to snuff, because, you know, Johan,” Gabe says, waving a hand in a way he’s concerned to notice is an accidental but dead on impression of his mother, “But maybe one or two of them will work.”

“Gabe,” Stephen says, looking up from the list.

“It’s nothing,” Gabe says. “Something to do on the road.”

“You printed it out,” Stephen says.

“Seemed easier,” Gabe says. “But I’ll email it to you as well.”

“And colour coordinated it,” Stephen says.

“It was a boring roadie,” Gabe says, though the end of it is kind of breathless, because Stephen’s crushing the air out of his lungs.

“Thank you,” Stephen mumbles, and Gabe brings a hand up to card through his hair.

“It’s nothing,” he says.

~

The packages start arriving two days later.

Gabe sighs, pushing aside two boxes with his foot so he can unlock the door, grabbing one under each arm to bring inside. One of them’s heavy for its size. Probably the knife set.

“Oh good,” Stephen says, looking up from his laptop as Gabe stacks the packages on top of all the other ones in the living room. “I was getting concerned that those weren’t coming.”

“Stephen,” Gabe says. “You can’t give your dad seventeen gifts for his birthday. He’ll just be disappointed every other year.”

And Gabe did say it was nothing, but that list took him two flights, three breakfasts, a dinner, and the recommendations of half the Canucks and most of the support staff, with dads receiving special consideration, to make.

“I can, however, not have to worry about what to get him for the next five years,” Stephen says gleefully.

Gabe sees trouble coming.

“I’m not making a list for everyone,” Gabe says.

“Gabe,” Stephen whines.

“No way,” Gabe says, taking this as a cue to retreat. “You’re on your own.”

“Gabe,” Stephen says, closing his laptop to trail him out of living room. “Please?”

~

The Canucks, unfortunately, are much less helpful when it comes to what to get middle-aged women. Gabe is disappointed but unsurprised.

“You lose a bet, Marksy?” Coach asks when Gabe brings the question to him. He’s married to one, which likely gives him an edge over the Canucks, who Gabe's learned are all a bunch of terrible sons. Well, other than Bullet. The majority of the ideas he does have on this list are just him trying to keep up with Bullet’s stream-of-consciousness.

“Something like that,” Gabe says, and adds his suggestion for a shawl. Sure, it’s already on the list, but it’s never smart to piss off the guy who controls how many minutes you get.

"My wife likes candles too," Coach says. "The ones that smell up the place."

Stephen can't stand scented candles, and Gabe's almost positive he got that from his mom, but Gabe adds it to the list anyway. It'd serve Stephen right to get a faulty list, and maybe he won't be forced to make one for Beth and Anna if he does a purposefully bad job.

Gabe waits until Coach is long gone, and then he makes sure to scribble those ideas out. Sure, he'll probably remember, and Stephen would probably notice even if he didn't, but, well.

May as well get Anouk something nice.

[lostinwildflowers]

Wonderful Tonight | Part I

Summary: Fitzroy assigns you and Six your next mission - one that has you on the edge of your seat for more than one reason.

Word Count: 15.9K

Chapter Warnings: mentions of the mafia/guns/weaponry/bioweapons/alcohol, some sexual innuendos/jokes, some harsh language/swearing, very brief mentions/jokes of being “eye-candy”/sugar babying, some angst/mutual pining, anxious tendencies, reader is very slightly crybaby but is just overwhelmed a lot, reader has hair long enough to put in an up-do of sorts, Six is way too much of a little shit for me to handle

A/N: Hello my darlings! Here is the first part of my beloved "mini series" I have been working on(Ignore that I had to post this again bc Tumblr ate it😭)! I am SO SO excited to finally be posting this after a few months of writing and editing. Please give me all of the comments and feedback, come scream at me, come give me your theories and guesses! I want to hear all of your thoughts! - Birch <3

Series Masterlist

Part II - Click Here

Moodboards

“Let’s cut to the chase,” an older man’s voice breaks through the quiet thrum of the ceiling fan. He sits at the head of a dark steel desk, papers strewn in front of him in an organized mess. 

The man wipes at his face before glancing at the people lining either side of the desk. All but two of the men and women sitting before him are clothed in finely pressed suits and business-casual dresses. All but two - his best agents.

You and Sierra Six.

The two of you are by far the best agents across his programs. The most intelligent, skilled, and deadly. He had assigned both of you to countless missions together - no task was too big for you to take on. 

But, this next one was going to push your limits.

The older man, Donald Fitzroy, sighs and continues, “By now, you all know you’re here for a new assignment. Recent intel has revealed a mafia boss with an unknown business overseas. We aren’t sure how he’s involved, but the people who are doing business with him are either reported missing or dead by local authorities.”

Fitzroy settles his gaze on you and Six before continuing, “This mission will be strictly undercover. We aren’t completely sure of the timeline yet, but we have reason to believe it’ll be around a week of covert operations.”

When no one interrupts him, Fitzroy continues, “The main target on this mission is a man by the name of Dolion Marsalis, known as 'The Lion' in business dealings.” Fitzroy stands from where he is sitting, walks around the end of the table to stretch his legs, then circles back to his chair, and says, “Mission location is Petalas, Greece.”

You look from Fitzroy to Six, who is seated next to you. Casually, you nudge the bearded blonde and whisper, “At least it’ll be warm there; we always get stuck going somewhere cold.” Six glances at you out of the corner of his eye, shooting you a quick smile that tugs on one side of his mouth before focusing on Fitzroy again.

Fitzroy leans forward against the desk with flattened palms and reiterates, “Petalas, Greece is the next known location of The Lion. We’ve had scouts out there surveying for the last two weeks and have confirmed the mission will be secluded to the island.”

One of the CIA operation specialists raises his hand to stop Fitzroy and asks, “There aren’t private beaches in Greece; how do we know there won’t be any interference from other nearby islands?”

You roll your eyes at the question and resist the urge to butt in and say something smart. Mission briefings were boring, and the people in them were dumb. Fitzroy, the saint he is, answers the question. 

“Truthfully, we don’t. However, the island where the mission will occur spans just over 2 square miles and houses a massive resort,” Fitzroy explains. “It is very unlikely that anyone from islands miles away will interfere with the operation.”

Six is the next to question Fitzroy with a chime of, “How will we get to the resort?” Fitzroy points at him and then starts shuffling through his papers before stating, “You and L/n will be ferried into the island on a private boat, likely small, just the two of you and the captain.”

The bearded blonde nods in understanding and resumes his silence as Fitzroy continues, “As I stated, you will be staying in a private resort - The Petalas Resort. Whatever image of this place you have in your mind, make it bigger. This place is huge.”

He passes out pictures of the resort down each side of the table, with every CIA specialist looking them over before handing them to the next person. When the images finally reach you, your mouth falls open.

The photographs show an insanely massive resort. A skyscraper in its own right, the building has unlimited pools, jacuzzis, bars, meeting halls, public lounge rooms, terraces for viewing, penthouses - you name it, it’s there.

You wordlessly pass them to Six, who usually is the face of stoicism, but even the bearded blonde’s eyes widen in surprise at the expanse of the place. You stutter out to Fitzroy, “T-that place must cost millions of dollars!”

The older man laughs at your reaction and then replies, “Sweetheart, try billions. There will be guests from all over the world flying in to stay at this resort to do business with The Lion, so you will both need to be on high alert 100% of the time.”

You and Six nod in agreement, setting the images back on the desk before returning your gaze to Fitzroy. The older man emphasizes, “People will be watching you. You will need to have your stories air-tight and your acting skills on standby. It will be a long week.”

You give him a thumbs up with a playful smile and chirp of, “Got it, Fitz!” He gives you a soft smile before he addresses the whole room again, “This is currently all of the background information we have for the main mission right now. We are in the process of gathering more intel to make an itinerary that we can more closely follow.”

Fitzroy starts to gather up his papers, and he finishes, “Parts of this mission will require solo work, and some will require you both to work together. You will be posing as a couple.” Just as the older man finishes straightening his papers, he looks up at you and Six.

The room goes silent. The noise of rustling papers and suit jackets dims around you as you stare at the CIA Senior Officer, dumbfounded. He simply stares back at you with a neutral expression as if he didn’t just drop the biggest twist of the mission.

Your mind scrambles to come up with words as your lips part in shock, and when the words don’t come to you, you turn to Six. The bearded blonde is just as quiet, but instead of looking at Fitzroy, he’s already looking at you.

He doesn’t say anything, just ever so slightly raises an eyebrow at you. You aren’t sure how to read his meaning, so you swivel back to look at Fitzroy. The rest of the room is unnaturally silent, unsure how to react when this information so clearly doesn’t apply to them.

You open and close your mouth a few times before stuttering out, “Wh-why is that a needed aspect of the mission?” Fitzroy straightens his posture before sighing, “There will be…”, he pauses. He searches for the right word for a moment before continuing, “...events hosted at this resort. Everyone attending will either be lone men or couples. We need both of you for this mission, so you will be working undercover as a couple.”

The words are so matter-of-fact that it makes your chest squeeze, but Fitzroy isn't done. “It would be too obvious if both of you were new to the scene and not a couple. This group of people operates within tight circles. Both of you being new faces will be enough to get them interested in you, and we don't want them to be too curious.”

You nod in agreement at his meaning, your hands gripping your thighs as thoughts swirl through your mind. Fitzroy shrugs as he grabs some folders from the desk and offers, “Besides, we figured the two of you have worked together for so long that you would be more comfortable with each other than other agents.”

There was a truth to Fitzroy’s words that was undeniable and, frankly, kind of annoying. You and Six had worked together on countless missions over the years, and you ran like a well-oiled machine. Where you missed a shot, he covered your flank. When he put his life on the line, you made damn sure to protect it.

“So, what do you think?” Fitzroy's voice comes, dragging you out of your thoughts. You don't realize you have pulled your gaze away from the older man and have focused on your lap as you mull his words over. Your mind is still racing as you try to wrap your head around the mission details.

Taking down a mafia boss is new. Working on a private island and resort is also new. But pretending to be in a relationship with Six?

Even thinking about the bearded blonde makes your heart skip a beat. Years of working together didn't make you blind to the pure, masculine nature of the man sitting next to you. He is undeniably lethal, which is both terrifying and comforting. 

Yes, he can seem a bit cold from the outside and presumably married to his work. However, after all of this time working together, you have broken through his shell, seeing the man he is outside of being a CIA agent.

Not to mention - the man is fine as hell. You can still remember when he decided to grow his beard out, you almost had a heart attack when he shot you a wink the first day you saw him. 

Six is undeniably handsome, intelligent, kind, and, most importantly: your coworker.

Your little crush on the bearded blonde is something you've managed to keep to yourself over the years. It's not like you have friends around every corner at the CIA, so it's not difficult from that aspect. 

The struggle comes from working with him. The more time you spend with Six, the harder it is to find the strength to ignore his smart quips and playful banter. You can't help the butterflies swarming your stomach when he shoots you a quick smile or wink when no one is looking.

You can’t help but fall for the only man you know you can’t have.

But despite your… feelings for the agent - you know there is no way you can ever tell him about them. Or even entertain the idea that he might feel the same way as you. 

And that’s what is making saying yes to this mission so hard.

When you don’t answer him, Fitzroy turns to look at Six instead and probes, “Well, Six? What about you? What do you think?” Six is silent as he drags his gaze away from you to regard the older man.

He clears his throat and replies lowly, “I’ll only do it if she’s comfortable with it.” Six’s words are short and to the point, with such weight behind them that it makes you blink in surprise. 

A fresh wave of butterflies settles in your stomach as your brows furrow, and you question, “Are you sure you want to do something like this, Six?” There is an open meaning to your words, and when you lock eyes with him, he shrugs.

“I don’t usually get a choice on stuff like this. And to be honest, I’d rather work with you than some random agent. I know you’ll have my back if things go to shit,” he responds earnestly. His words are laced with honesty, and it makes relief flood through your system.

He sighs and shrugs again, looking back to Fitzroy and stating, “But if I get a say - I want to do whatever will make L/n comfortable. If she’s not on board, I’m out.” Six’s urgency to put you at ease with the situation makes a minuscule smile crawl onto your lips as you roll the mission around in your mind.

The frown has not left your brows, and you squint in thought before mumbling, “On the topic of being comfortable - would there be some type of protocol for us to follow? Some sort of guidelines or rules?”

Six swivels to look at you with mild interest written on his features, but you focus your attention on Fitzroy and urge, “If there’s some… outline of what we can or can’t do, then I think it could work.”

With an almost-smug smile, Fitzroy slides the two folders he had readied across the table to you and Six. As you start to pull on the papers within your folder, Fitzroy chimes, “Yes - there are some general guidelines we put together because we figured you might have some reservations.”

“If you look in your folders, your fake identities and backgrounds are outlined,” Fitzroy says, beginning to pace around the end of the table with long, slow steps. He points to Six and rambles, “You will be under the cover of ‘Reed Lawson’, a businessman and CEO of a gun manufacturing company. Your business makes and sells weapons and weaponry designs for military use.”

Six quirks an eyebrow at Fitzroy’s description, his eyes darting across the front of his fake profile as he commits the information to memory. Fitzroy stops, swivels, and then walks to the other side of the room as he continues, “You will be at the resort on business. The story is such that you will be trying to sell a bioengineered weapon to The Lion. He will be in the market for something to help aid him in capturing these missing people.”

Six’s fake persona’s details click in your head. It made sense, really. Six was a master of weaponry already, so it wouldn’t be hard for him to spit out gun models and information if questioned about it. The business part may be a bit harder for him, but Six was always an excellent actor under pressure.

Fitzroy doesn’t stop his pacing as he now points at you, and ducking his head, he recites, “L/n, you will be posing at Reed Lawson’s girlfriend, ‘Giselle, ‘El’, Brooks’. You will be a real estate agent who sells houses internationally.”

You nod your head back and forth with a thoughtful look on your face, your eyes flicking through the file in your hands. Fitzroy continues, “You don’t know everything about Lawson’s business dealings, and you will be acting as a sort of ‘eye-candy’, if you will. This is so you can always be listening, picking up on conversations and dealings.”

A pang of emotion surges through you as a grimace tries to tug on your mouth. Being reduced to “eye candy” isn’t a great feeling, but knowing that you would be actively watching Six’s back makes you feel more useful.

Fitzroy goes quiet at that, stopping his pacing to land in front of his chair. His dark gaze flutters between you and Six as he asks again, “So what will it be?” You can feel the heat of Six’s gaze on you as he turns away from Fitzroy, patiently waiting to see what your response will be.

Actually, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you now. All of the CIA special operations experts who have quietly sat through the details of this mission now seemingly have you pinned to the back of your chair from intensity alone.

Heat rushes through your body, flooding from your stomach out to the tips of your fingers in an instant. You part your mouth to respond, suddenly shy as you mumble, “I- I guess so. I mean, it sounds doable.” At the end of your words, you can’t help but look from Fitzroy’s amused expression to Six’s blank one next to you.

You are met with an emotionless look from Six, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach turn heavy as lead. Thankfully, Fitzroy breaks the tension in the room by remarking, “Excellent. I’ve got a few more details to share, and then we will be done.”

He flips through his papers to find the one he wants before saying, “As stated, Lawson and Brooks are a couple and have been dating for 2 years.”

God damn it, Fitz, you think to yourself as your heart jumps straight back up to your throat. Just when I think I’m okay with a part of the mission, you just have to throw more at me.

Fitzroy pushes on without hesitating, “Lawson has been invited to Petalas for business, as I said. To the outside consumer, this business trip is about selling weaponry designs.” His gaze flashes to Six, who nods in understanding, and then continues, “However, we know The Lion operates within the black market to some extent.”

Six’s voice cuts in, “You mentioned a bioengineered weapon?” Fitzroy pauses to look at Six, and then he nods, “Yes. We believe he’s somehow drugging the people who are disappearing. Traces of a tranquilizer have been found at the last place he was known to be. You will be trying to get The Lion to buy a new, bioengineered type of tranquilizer that acts quickly.”

Your stomach drops at the darkening nature of this mission, but you keep your lips sealed as Fitzroy talks. The older man explains, “The end goal is that he will want to talk to you to get samples and try the drug, and when you are within his inner circle, you can eliminate him.”

The weight of the mission is setting in now, but Fitzroy still has more to add. “L/n, since your fake identity has been dating Lawson for a while, there is a bit of a power gradient. This world operates on a monetary basis, and Brooks relies on Lawson to provide for her.”

Your jaw clenches as you process his words, and you reiterate firmly, “You’re telling me that I’m going to be a sugar baby?” A snort sounds out next to you, and your head whips to look at Six, whose hand has come up to brush at his nose nonchalantly.

He glances at you with his hand still covering his mouth, but based on the twinkle in his eye, you know a smirk is resting on his face. A fresh wave of embarrassment washes over you, and as heat floods your face, Fitzroy’s voice chimes in, “Don’t worry, this is a very common thing for people in this type of industry.”

You rub at your face as Fitzroy continues, your mind swirling with embarrassment, intrigue, and nervousness. 

“Anyways, Lawson will be bringing Brooks on this business trip because they’ve been together for a while, and she is learning the ropes of the trade,” Fitzroy says. “Six, there will be a man you will likely deal with before you ever talk to The Lion. We only know him by the name of Bad Brad.”

Six looks away from you and back to Fitzroy, his hand sliding down his face to land in his lap. He clears his throat before guessing, “He’s probably The Lion’s second-in-command or in his inner circle, right?” Fitzroy nods in confirmation and then says, “Right, he is in charge of dealing with and protecting their 'assets,’ which are likely the victims. We know he understands some types of weaponry, so he will be the first person you want to find.”

The bearded blonde nods in understanding before rattling off, “Find Bad Brad, make him think we’re trustworthy, and use him to get close to The Lion before eliminating them.” Fitzroy takes a deep breath and, straightening his papers, sighs out, “That’s all we’ve got right now. We will get you more direct information once the scouts return in the next day or two.”

“As of right now, the two of you should finalize a backstory you both agree on and any small details you think are important,” Fitzroy states, moving toward the meeting room doors. The other men and women follow him, leaving you and Six alone at the table.

Fitzroy stops at the door as the CIA agents file out, and he calls over his shoulder to the two of you, “You know where to find me if you have any problems. But you two will be fine.” He makes eye contact with Six and shoots him a wink with a chime of, “If anything, you might enjoy yourselves.”

At that, the older man disappears without another word. When the door clicks shut, the sound of the ceiling fan is the only thing you can focus on. The air is thick despite it circulating lazily throughout the meeting room, and you can’t bring yourself to look Six in the eyes.

Your fingers twitch hesitantly at the folder lying underneath them, and that’s where you find your gaze drawn. Text covers page after page, and you find yourself slightly overwhelmed by all of the information being thrown at you.

Six is just as quiet next to you, opting to cross his arms over his chest as he stares at his own folder, unopened. You usually don’t mind that Six isn’t a big talker, but now his silence adds to the tension hanging in the air.

You flip one of the papers over and clear your throat, stuttering, “S-so, I guess we should make a list of things that are okay to do? If that sounds good to you.” Your right hand fiddles for a second before reaching for a pen from the folder, clicking it, and scribbling “Okay-To-Do” at the top of the paper.

The bearded blonde is still quiet next to you, but when he glances to see your handwriting on the paper, he grunts out, “Yeah, that’s fine.” You peek over at him as you brace your free hand against your head and mumble, “So, where should we start?”

It’s silent for a moment, the air awkward as you both look at the blank sheet of paper in front of you. You huff out a sigh and then rush, “I think flirting is good, I mean not good, but I think it’s fine. Like, I’m okay with it.”

Heat again washes over you, the lead feeling in your stomach returning. Fuck, this sucks, you think to yourself as the tips of your ears start to burn. I’m going to be sick. You wait a moment, steeling yourself before explaining, “Flirting is expected of couples, right? Especially if our fake identities have been… together for a while.”

Six glances at your tense frame before nodding toward your paper, “No, I think it’s fine. It shouldn’t be too hard to alter our typical banter to sell it.” Hearing Six’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin, and your fingers fumble with the pen at your unexpected startle.

You let out the breath you had been holding and agree, “It’ll hopefully be one of the easier things to deal with.” Silence floods the room again as you focus your attention on the paper, making a small dash before writing ‘flirting’ next to it.

One bullet point down. An unknown amount to go. Great.

You swallow thickly as you stare at the word, but then Six’s voice draws your attention. He drawls lowly, “Touching is another one to think about.” You pull your eyes away from the paper to look at the bearded blonde next to you.

His gaze is slightly downcast, back to staring at the folder sitting in front of him. You quirk an eyebrow in confusion and quietly murmur, “I’m not sure I understand?” A moment passes, and his blue gaze flits up to meet your own. It holds you in a stare as he clarifies, “Holding hands, touches on the arm, back, et cetera.”

You nod once in understanding, glancing away from his broad figure. You swallow again before suggesting, “What about hugging? And more… intimate touches? Like on the waist, face… ass?” You could have slapped yourself with how painful this was. 

Goodness gracious, why can’t you just be an adult about this? 

Now, it’s Six’s turn to get flustered. His cheeks just barely tinge pink, but in your own embarrassment, you don’t seem to notice. He just quickly shakes his head to clear his mind before he mumbles, “Yeah, fine with me. You?”

You turn back to the paper and make another dash below the first, and as you write out the word ‘touching’ next to it, you sigh out, “Yep, it’s fine. To-tally fine.” The vowel is slightly drawn out, and you internally cringe at your response.

Get it together, woman!

You take a quick breath to try to center yourself before pushing, “I would also think we might have to kiss in public? Even if it’s just on the cheek or something.” You try not to make a big deal out of your proposition, but your stomach is tying itself in knots at the thought.

You can’t quite bring yourself to look at Six after blurting out your idea, and he’s quiet for a moment before shuffling. Only then do you turn to look at him again, and there’s a very stoic and neutral expression on his face.

He catches your (colored) gaze and nods once, and then replies, “Yeah, it’s not improbable. If you’re okay with it, I am too.” A small wave of relief washes over you at his words, and you duck away from his gaze as you look back at your paper.

“Yep, I’m okay with it. We’re both professionals, after all,” you say as you make another dash and write ‘kiss’ next to it. Your words are more to reassure yourself than for Six, but neither of you says anything as you finish scrawling on the paper.

This time, there’s no giant pause before someone speaks. Six pipes up, “I guess we could discuss any nicknames or pet names?” You perk up at this, slightly less nervous now. You shuffle through the papers in front of you until you find the first page from the folder.

Your eyes skim over the text until you find what you’re looking for. “Ah!” you say with a bit of excitement, “It looks like my fake identity has a nickname of ‘El,’  so I guess we should use that some.”

You look over to Six with a small smile, and he nods thoughtfully before unfolding his arms and generally motioning with one hand, “Anything else? Any off limits?” His words make you pause for a second, but nothing immediately jumps out.

“I swear if you call me some silly nickname like pookie or sugar plum, I will kill you,” you try to joke, pointing at Six with mock anger. This gets him to finally crack a smile, the corners of his mouth curling upward before a huff falls from his lips.

You let a chuckle out as you feel some of the tension dissipating, but then you clarify, “But seriously, any normal nickname or endearment is fine. Is there anything you don’t want to be called?”

The question is a little clunky and awkward as it slides off your tongue, and you wince as you gauge Six’s reaction to the question. The pink tinge returns to the highest points of his cheekbones, but he answers simply, “Anything is fine with me.”

A gentle smile slides onto your face as you turn back to your paper, scribbling down ‘pet names’ underneath your growing list. You stare at the list for a second, (colored) eyes scouring the page for any other ideas.

Then it hits you.

“We’ll probably have to share a bed,” you mumble quietly, the words muffled by your hand coming up to rub at your eyes. You hear Six sigh next to you, and you don’t have it in you to look over at him. 

“I totally get it if that makes you uncomfortable,” he starts, “I’m sure we can figure something out.” His voice trails off at the end, like he’s unsure in his thinking. You shrug as you lean back in your chair, now the one to cross your arms over your chest.

“Thinking about the integrity of the mission, it would be suspicious if we had separate rooms,” you say slowly. You take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling, willing the fresh wave of butterflies away before continuing, “But I think we can work something out.”

You glance over at him now, and he’s already looking at you, a pensive look on his angled features. You crack a grin and huff out, “Just - no falling in love with me or anything, got it?”

It’s silent for a moment while the two of you stare at each other. 

Then, you both give in. Laughter fills the air as Six chuckles and giggles erupt from you. The tension in the air finally breaks and you feel like you can breathe again. This was the closest you and Six had been to being your normal selves, and man, it felt good.

The two of you laugh for a moment, sighs filling the room as you wipe at your face with a playful scoff. Six exhales with a groan and moves to stand up. His arms stretch above his head and he looks down at you a moment later.

“Got anything else you want to add?” he asks, motioning to your list. You glance from him to the list and back again. You shake your head side to side and mumble, “No, I think I’m good for now.”

Six nods and hums, “If there’s anything else you think of, let me know.” At that, he moves toward the door, leaving you sitting in your chair. He pauses by the door as he pulls it open, and with a smile tugging on his mouth, he calls, “See you later, Ms. Brooks.”

You can’t help the dumb grin that covers your face at his words, and as he slips out of the door, you call back, “You too, Mr. Lawson.”

The freshness of the air in Greece is the first thing you notice when you step off the plane. It’s clear and refreshing, but that could be thanks to the swift breeze that ruffles over the unloading bay.

The country is beautiful in ways you never could have imagined. At least, the area before the dock is beautiful. The water is crystal clear - something you’ve only ever seen on brochures and influencers’ Instagrams when you had time to dream about vacations outside of work.

It twinkles and dances in a mesmerizing way, with the curl of the turquoise waves crashing into a frothy white foam before sweeping up onto the light sand. The tide doesn’t really change in Greece due to the nature of the Mediterranean, which is something you learned about after the mission briefing.

You can’t help but take a deep breath as the breeze picks up, grabbing the ends of your hair and twirling them around. Your eyes flutter closed as you allow yourself to enjoy this moment, knowing that it was going to be quickly stripped away from you.

But the sound of Six sighing next to you snaps you out of your moment of bliss, and your (colored) gaze opens to find him standing a few feet away. He looks like he walked out of an old photograph, you can’t help but think to yourself.

The white sand farther from the water’s edge is littered with dark, scraggly bushes. You think they break up the brightness in a mysterious kind of way, but you wouldn’t want to accidentally run into one. 

In the distance, standing tall and proud are sharp, ragged cliffs of pale sandstone. There must be some dirt or sand for the plant life to take root up there, as dense bushes fade into lush grass before disappearing into the countryside.

Then, at the center of all of it, Six stands alone in a baby blue, almost silver colored suit. You aren’t sure if he chose to wear a suit despite the warmth of the oncoming day, but you can’t deny that he looks nice in it.

The silvery-blue blazer is accented with a fine white trim on the lapels, a small detail to make it look more casual. Of course, Six wears a matching pair of trousers but seemingly opted for a pair of white dress shoes to add to his “rich man” persona.

Underneath the blazer is a fitted white dress shirt with several of the top buttons undone. You have to avert your gaze to stop yourself from drooling over the thick muscle and tattoos you can see peeking out from under the material. 

It isn’t fair that he looks this good when he isn’t even trying.

In typical Six fashion, he can’t help but add one of his favorite silver watches to his left wrist. But to top off his fake identity, Six wears a silver chain around his neck that has a centerpiece inscribed with your fake persona’s initials - GB. 

The chain hangs loosely down his neck, landing in a sinful place near his collarbones. His blonde hair is slicked back in his usual fashion, his goatee perfectly trimmed. 

What’s unusual for the bearded blonde is that he has a pair of designer sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, hiding his stormy blue gaze. Which seems to be pointed straight at you.

Your stomach flips as Six shuffles closer to you, breaking you out of your ogling. The two of you had been left alone after a slightly unnerving plane ride, waiting with a pile of suitcases surrounding you.

Now, as you wait for the captain of your private boat to meet you, the anticipation of the mission is finally catching up. Your hands twitch as you nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, your eyes gazing out to the dock where the boat is finishing its prep.

“You ready?” Six’s voice comes, low and rough from being quiet. You nearly flinch at hearing it, your eyes widening in surprise as you turn back to gaze at the agent next to you. You can’t see where his gaze is focused due to his sunglasses, but he motions toward the boat when he notes the confusion on your face.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts before blurting, “Y-yeah, let’s get this thing over with.” You quickly grab a suitcase and start to walk off, but Six’s hand on the handle stops you. There’s a slightly playful smirk on his lips as he chides, “Now, now, Ms. Brooks. Let me get that for you.”

Realization washes over you, and you reluctantly let go of the suitcase with a giggle of, “Why thank you, Mr. Lawson.” Six tuts and loops his arm through yours like he’s done it a million times, “That’s Reed to you, Ms. Brooks.”

You can’t even respond to him. His sudden, casual affection and flirty tone of voice have switched your brain off. That’s not even including him guiding you down the beach to the boat, his arm dragging you alongside him.

You try your best to recover, your right arm that’s looped through his gently grabs at his suit-covered forearm. Your left hand anxiously reaches for the hem of your dress, tugging it down to ease your fears of looking “not right” next to the bearded blonde.

Out of your whole wardrobe for the mission, you chose an outfit you knew would be comfortable but also cute - a cornflower blue sundress with a deep V-shaped neckline to keep you cool. It’s a solid color with no patterning, accentuated with an A-line skirt that cinches at your waist.

You like the sleeves of the dress - elbow length, but loose and flowy. With the warmth of the rising sun and the breeze blowing over the beach, they are keeping you comfortable. The daring part of the dress, if you can call it that, are the cutouts just above the waistline. The small rectangular cutouts span the entire circumference of your waist, showing off some skin but nothing too scandalous.

But now, walking to the private boat, you aren’t sure if this dress was the right choice to wear. 

The boat is commandeered by a lone man - the captain of the small ship. It’s a private boat with just enough room to sit outside comfortably while the luggage is stored inside with the captain. 

Six leaves you to stand at the railings overlooking the sea while he talks with the man, the two of them making short work of carrying the remaining suitcases to the boat. Internally, you twitch, wanting to chip in and offer a helping hand, but you resist the urge.

Pretending to be incapable of a lot of stuff is going to be hard, you think to yourself as a frown tugs on your features. I wasn’t trained to be incapable. I was trained to be able to do everything myself without a man helping me.

A presence looming behind you makes you swivel, and you see Six pocketing his sunglasses before looking up to meet your gaze. The blue tones of his eyes are amplified by the shining water surrounding you, and the beauty of his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat.

He motions toward the comfortable seating area with a nod and says, “Come sit. We’re ready to go.” The words come out a bit clipped, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s somehow just as nervous as you are.

You do as he says with a nod of your own, walking past him to gracefully sit down on the plush cushion of the double seat. Six is right behind you, and he sits down on the cushion next to you with an exasperated sigh, his left hand running over his face before he thoughtfully rests his palm on your thigh.

The touch of his hand over the material of your dress makes your heart lurch in your chest, and you glance over at him, batting your lashes to fight off the surprised look you know is on your face. Six looks up from his hand to meet your gaze, and you are surprised at the kindness that you find when you lock eyes with him.

“Now’s a good time to practice,” he whispers lowly, the words getting whisked away by the ocean mist as the captain revs the engine of the boat. You know that the captain likely can’t hear you from the driver’s seat inside, but you couldn’t be too careful.

Six’s words wash over you, and you pause as you let them sink in. Practice. Right. You stare up at him for a moment before replying, “Yeah, you’re right.” You glance toward the ocean as you lurch in your seat as the boat takes off, setting out to the middle of the sea.

You laugh humorlessly as you look down at your hands folded in your lap and mumble, “I, uhm. I’ve never actually seen water this clear and blue before. I’ve never really been on vacation or somewhere this…”

Your voice fades as the words die on your tongue. A wave crashes up against the side of the boat, throwing mist into the air above you and Six. It’s quiet for a moment as coolness washes over you, but then Six speaks up. “I know what you mean,” he whispers, “But we have to act like we’ve done this a million times.”

He gently squeezes at your thigh reassuringly, “Plus, we’ve got each other.” There’s a smile at the end of his words, and you sigh defeatedly as you face him and nod, “We do have each other. But you’re a lot better at this than I am.”

Six scoffs and looks away from you, his gaze focusing on a distant point of the ocean. He shuffles uncomfortably at the praise before shrugging, “It’s just another Thursday for me.” This draws a giggle out of you, and Six watches as you lean forward and then back with a sigh falling from your mouth.

“Just another Thursday, huh?” you tease, bumping your shoulder against his. You blink at your hands on your lap with a shy but playful smile before joking quietly, “You’re telling me every Thursday you play dress-up boyfriend with a coworker?”

Six shoots you a playfully annoyed glare and rolls his eyes, huffing, “Oh, come on.” You just giggle at his response, the tension in your shoulders loosening as you fall into your usual banter with the bearded blonde.

A comfortable silence spans the boat, the engine roaring and the sharp hiss of the ocean spray the only sounds you can focus on. As you take a breath of Greece’s fresh air, you try to steel your nerves.

This was going to be a long week.

The boat ride to Petalas from the mainland is longer than you thought, and it gives you time to let your mind settle down from your nerves that seemed to jump at any moment. In fact, you almost get bored. Almost.

It’s pretty hard to be bored sitting next to Six, who cycles through watching the open water with his hand on your thigh to fiddling with his watch to small talk about the mission and back again.

Before you know it, the captain is pulling into the boardwalk of the island, and you and Six are rising to your feet. The boat’s engine cuts out once safely docked, and Six leaves you on the deck to speak briefly with the captain.

He reappears a moment later and gives a pointed glance toward the boardwalk. Time to go, you think to yourself. Steeling yourself with a deep breath and shallowly exhaling, you carefully make your way out of the boat and onto the wooden dock.

Just a step behind you is Six, who is buttoning the front of his blazer out of habit. You step to the side as you wait for him to pause next to you, but your attention is soon drawn away as a, well, horde of men and women in matching uniforms all appear. You blink in surprise as they hustle onto the boat in front of you, your gaze watching them all neatly file to the storage area.

“They’re grabbing our bags,” Six whispers lowly in your ear, and in a second, has closed a lot of the distance between the two of you. His hand comes to rest on the small of your back, gentle in a tentative way. 

You almost shoot out of your skin at the foreign contact, but you force your shoulders to relax as you look up toward the resort. It is… way bigger than the pictures. The photos did not do this place justice.

Six pushes you forward with a practiced lead, and you willingly follow his movements. His touch feels red-hot where his fingers flatten against your back, and you do your best to ignore the slight roughness of them. 

You aren’t sure if he means to, but his digits find the cutouts on the waist of your dress. His long, pretty fingers brush against the skin of your back with a delicious friction. It makes goosebumps shoot up and down your spine, and you try not to shiver at the warmth they exude.

But despite his hands making your nerve endings sing, there is a comfort that Six’s touch brings. It reminds you that you aren’t alone on this mission and that he will be by your side until the target is eliminated. That thought alone relieves some of the pressure building up in your mind.

Concrete stairs are sturdy under your feet as the two of you make your way to the front of the resort. You have to slip through large glass doors before stopping in a large atrium with huge skylights soaring above your head.

There’s a large reception desk in the middle of the atrium, though you aren’t sure that’s what you should call it, despite it being the closest thing you can think of. A short, bald man waits for you and Six at the counter. There’s a nametag on his suit that reads ‘Gilbert Johnson, Petalas Resort Manager.’ 

He doesn’t immediately address you and Six once you stop in front of the counter. Instead, he turns to the swarm of employees behind you who are carrying your bags and orders, “Floor 3, Room 316.” The rustling of all of your luggage and footsteps thundering away seems to grab your attention, but you are drawn back to… Gilbert, when Six’s hand tightens and then relaxes on your back.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you glance up at him as Gilbert starts to speak, “Welcome to your stay at the Petalas Resort, Mr. Lawson and Ms. Brooks.” A pang of uncertainty washes over you, and your eyes scrape over the manager.

How does he know our names? You think to yourself as the beginnings of a frown pull on your brows. There are a couple of options. 

1. There is a set schedule for when each guest arrives. Assuming that The Lion wants to protect himself, he needs to know where everyone is and when they are arriving. 

2. An employee talked with the captain to see which guests were arriving and got our names that way. 

3. Somehow, they have scanned our faces and matched our fake identities to them in some deep, dark database.

The last option is a little out there, you have to admit, but you couldn’t rule it out.

“We have the two of you staying in Room 316, which is an upgraded queen with a larger floor plan,” Gilbert describes, typing some things onto his computer. Six nods simply and replies stoically, “Thank you.”

You feel Six’s fingers twitch again on your back, but when you look up at him this time, he’s still looking ahead toward Gilbert. A thought flashes through your mind at the sudden touch. Maybe, just maybe, Six is nervous about this mission in his own way.

You don’t have time to dwell on the thought as the bearded blonde releases his hold on your waist as Gilbert fiddles for a room key. The lack of his touch makes you miss his warmth, but Six quickly cups the inside of your elbow without even glancing at you.

His fingers are rough on your smooth skin, and the unsuspecting touch causes goosebumps to appear on your arm. With nonchalance, Six slides his hand from your elbow and down the inside of your arm. His long digits are slow to tenderly cup your wrist in his palm before hesitantly threading his fingers down through your own.

Your heart jumps to your throat at the quiet intimacy, but you delicately clasp your fingers over Six’s. Your knees threaten to give out as butterflies swarm your belly, and heat rushes to your face, blossoming from where your hand is laced in his.

Only when your hand is firmly seated in Six’s do you look up at him again, mild surprise still coating your features. With your gaze fixed on him, Six gives in and makes eye contact with you. There is a pleasantly shy smile sitting on your lips, and before you can register the twinkle in his eye, Six shoots you a wink.

Gilbert’s voice breaks the two of you out of the moment, “Alright, here is your key card for your room. Let us know if things are not to your liking!” His overly cheerful voice is shrill and jarring, but Six offers him a tight-lipped smile and a nod as he grabs the key card from the shorter man with his free hand.

With a gentle but playful tug, Six hauls you toward the opposite side of reception, where he had caught a glimpse of the elevator. You tighten your grip on his hand as he whisks you down the hall, a girlish giggle falling from your lips. The sound isn’t just one for show - it’s partially out of nerves. But no one needs to know that.

Six makes quick work of the ‘up’ button for the elevator, and the silver doors slide open a moment later. The two of you step inside, and even once the doors slide shut behind you, Six doesn’t release his grip on you.

He does, however, check in. “Everything is still okay?” The question comes out low, barely a murmur. You stare down at your shoes as you mumble, “Yep,” popping the ‘p’. Thankfully, the elevator ride is short, and the doors soon open. 

Six pulls you along with him again, his footsteps measured to make sure he isn’t walking too fast for you. The two of you quickly locate your room - down towards the end of the hall facing a large window that frames the beach below.

You try not to gawk at the beautiful scenery before you as Six unlocks the door. He slowly peeks his head in, peering around cautiously out of habit. He freezes, and you copy his movements, suddenly on edge. 

But then his body language relaxes, and he mumbles, “It’s just our bags.” He props the door further open with his free hand, and you glance over his shoulder to see a large pile of all of your suitcases and clothing racks that had been toted in by the employees.

A sigh falls from your lips in relief as you look at the large pile, and Six releases his grip on your hand, motioning for you to walk into the room first. You almost instantly miss the weight of his hand in yours, but you focus on scanning the wide room for any hints of trouble.

Gilbert wasn’t lying when he said it had an upgraded floor plan, you think to yourself as you take in the room in front of you. There is a short hallway that opens up into the expanse of the main living area. The beige carpeted floors match perfectly with the neutral patterned walls, which are accented with pops of teal and turquoise. 

You walk forward to allow Six to slip in behind you, and you hear the door click shut a moment later. Your (colored) gaze takes in the mountain of suitcases piled up in the living room before letting it drift off to the small kitchen area.

A kitchenette and a living room? This is crazy. You were used to cramped hotel rooms or safe houses, not full-on apartments while on missions. The “room” wasn’t a penthouse suite or anything crazy, but it was fancy.

There are several rooms that you can see - the living area with all of the suitcases connected to the kitchenette, a door that you presume leads to the bathroom, and another that is swung open to reveal the bedroom.  Six steps around you silently, ducking into each room cautiously before reappearing moments later from each.

Once deemed safe, he shrugs off his baby blue blazer and says, “We’ve got some time to kill until tonight. We can move all of this stuff and just settle in for a bit.” The statement is open-ended, like he meant it to be a question, but the words come out a bit flat.

Nonetheless, you give him a nod and reply, “Let’s get to work.”

The sun is just beginning to set over the horizon, the crystal blue water of the ocean splashed with pastel pinks and oranges. Much like a stained glass window in an old cathedral, the myriad of lights twisting on the water’s surface brings you a sense of peace.

You can see the waterfront from the bathroom window as you methodically brush and pat makeup onto the angles of your face. The simple routine of swiping blush over your cheeks and dabbing eyeshadow onto your eyelids was one you are thankful for as you fight to calm the nerves creeping throughout your body.

The welcome dinner starts in roughly an hour - it’s for all of the guests staying at the resort, and you are doing your best to stay calm and collected as you get dolled up. You can feel the pressure resting on your shoulders - this will be your first outing as Six’s, no, Lawson’s girlfriend, working undercover like this. 

You can’t blow your cover on the first night.

Between the flight to Greece and the boat ride to Petalas, you can feel exhaustion pulling at the edges of your vision. The nerves, however, are working in your favor to keep you awake, but you know you need to stay sharp. Alert at all times.

Since tonight is ‘just the welcome dinner’, the attire and look you are going for should be considered ‘casual’, at least for people who are rich out of their minds. There’s a cocktail/social hour event at one of the bars, and both you and Six agreed it would be a good idea to attend. 

In the bedroom, Six is getting dressed for the evening. He had flipped through a couple of his suits until he found one that he thought was just right for the occasion. The button-up shirt is the focal point of the outfit - a diamond-patterned shirt that alternates between cool-toned brown diamonds to milk chocolate colored ones. 

He neatly tucks the button-up into a pair of coffee colored slacks that match, but he forgoes the blazer, leaving it to hang in the closet. Pairing it with a brown belt and dress shoes, he’s almost ready.

Last to join his outfit is his silver watch and chain with your fake identity’s initials on it. The necklace hangs just below his collarbone, which is exposed due to several of the buttons being undone near the neck of the shirt.

He starts toward the bathroom as he begins cuffing his sleeves, rolling them up to show off the expanse of his forearms. He frowns at the material as it becomes difficult to roll up, unusually tightening around his forearm.

Six stops at the open door, glancing at you getting ready as his fingers fiddle with the cuff of his left arm. He pauses as he watches you finish swiping some chapstick onto your parted lips, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

A shy smile slides onto your face before you turn around to look at the bearded blonde with your own eyes. You are immediately drawn to his hand, the digits messing with the sleeve of his shirt, and you point to it with a raised brow. 

“Need some help?” your voice hums out, your gaze flitting back to meet Six’s blue one. He sighs and looks down at the sleeve, mumbling, “This damn shirt is a bit tight.” You want to laugh at the look on Six’s face since it does resemble embarrassment, but you choose to bite your tongue.

You take a step toward the bearded blonde and gently pull his hand away. You murmur, “Here, let me.” You carefully straighten the sleeve out and unbutton the cuff, tactfully rolling it to reveal the thick muscle of his forearm.

His skin is tan and warm under your touch, and your eyes can’t help but wander over the tattoos littered there. Your gaze is drawn to his left hand as you work, the flesh there decorated with his silver watch and sunrise tattoo. It looked very pretty.

Six sighing snaps you out of your haze, and you release his left arm and instinctively grab his right one, fingers tugging at the sleeve to make both sides evenly matched. “I think the outfitters ordered this in the wrong size,” he grumbles, allowing you to take a step back once you have deemed him in order.

As you step back and look up at him, you seem to notice the tight fit he was grumbling about. The diamond-patterned material was pulled fairly snug across his chest, but seemed to fit more comfortably with the several top buttons undone.

Seeing his whole outfit now, heat rushes over your face as your gaze flutters over him. Your eyes dance from his freshly rolled sleeves to his pecs that are peeking out of the shirt. You note how his pants are tailored to perfection, showing off his thick thighs and trim waist.

God, he looks good.

Your mouth parts as you take in his look, eventually making your way back up to his face. Then, and only then, do you notice his hair needs styling. Blinking to try to stop yourself from drooling, you stutter, “You, you look nice. That pattern looks good on you.”

A small, shy smile resumes its place on your face as you glance away from him, looking back at the counter covered in your makeup products. Six lets a smile of his own tug on the corner of his mouth as he also glances away and murmurs, “Thank you.”

It’s quiet between the two of you for a second, and you rock back and forth awkwardly on your feet before realization settles over you. “Oh! Do you need the bathroom for something? I’m done with my makeup, let me clean this up.”

You dart back into the bathroom, turning your back on Six as warmth settles over your face again. You quickly shove your products back into your makeup bag, wiping off the counter with a wash cloth to rid it of any potential fallout.

Six tuts and waves his hand dismissively, “No, no rush. Take your time, Y/n.” The sound of your name falling so casually from his lips has butterflies blooming in your stomach, but you don’t stop rushing about.

A moment later, you have packed up your makeup and are slipping past Six, ducking your head to avoid his gaze. You take a quick breath and call over your shoulder, “I’ll just be getting changed.”

Without waiting for a response, you slide into the bedroom and shut the door behind you with a deep exhale. Get. It. Together! It’s just Six. You guys have been on countless missions together. 

The words ring out in your head as you carry your makeup bag to one of the dressers and set it on top. You turn to the closet next to the dresser, where you hung up all of the dresses the outfitters had packed for this mission. 

Spoiler: There are a lot of dresses. There’s basically a dress in almost every color and cut, handmade for you, but designed for a woman with a rich taste in fashion. You sigh as you look over the contents of the closet with an overwhelming sense of dread looming over you.

You weren’t the most well-versed when it came to fashion; you were used to tactical gear and gun holsters, for goodness' sake!

You stare at the closet, tapping your foot as your mind begins to race, minutes ticking by as you consider your options. A floor-length dress would be too much, right? Like, I’ll need those later if there’s a fancier dinner. But I can’t just wear a dress like the one I got here in. That’s way too casual, right?

Your thoughts are swirling, and that uneasy feeling of dread returns to your stomach. Your hands come up to cup your cheeks as you take a deep breath of air before puffing it out. The want to curl up in a ball is edging at your nerves, so you take a step back from the closet and inhale another shaky breath.

Now is not the time to get overwhelmed. It’s easy - just pick an outfit that you would wear to a cocktail party at home. You pause, then reason, I wouldn’t be going to a cocktail party at home. I would just be getting ready for bed.

You could scream at the frustration welling inside you, and just when tears start to burn at the edge of your vision, a knock at the bedroom door makes you jump. Damn it, you think to yourself as you walk tentatively over to the door, Six is probably wondering if I’m ready yet. 

Just as you go to open it, you hear Six’s voice from the other side, “Everything going okay?” You internally groan at the sound of his voice. Shit, I’m probably making us late and he’s being so polite. You need to get it together! The words ring out in your head again, and you open your mouth as you try to figure out how to respond.

When the words don’t seem to want to come, you sigh and fling the door open, a frown tugging on your features. Six takes a step back, surprised at the door whipping open. It seems as though he’s finished slicking back his hair and is ready to go.

He quickly glances at your appearance, and you see a frown tug on his face as he notes that you’re still in your sweatpants and t-shirt.

“What’s wrong? Do you need help finding something? I’m pretty sure we unpacked-” “I don’t know what to wear,” you cut him off, cringing at hearing the girlish words that make your voice seem to whine. You delicately wipe at your teary eyes, trying not to disturb your makeup, before muttering, “Gosh, this is a pathetic problem to have.”

Six raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything. You sigh and open the door further and mumble, “I haven’t ever had to dress for an event like this before. I don’t know what’s considered proper or improper fashion etiquette.”

You step back from the door and walk back over to the open closet, wrapping your arms around yourself in uncertainty as your gaze scours the fabrics. Six stands next to the door for a second before taking a step into the room, leaning back against the door frame.

He’s quiet for a moment before he asks, “Do you want my opinion?” Your head swivels to look at him in surprise, and when your (colored) gaze lands on him, your heart melts a bit in your chest. There is a thoughtful look on his face as he looks at you, one that you know he means in a kind, careful way.

Your shoulders slump, and your neck rolls back a bit as you all but whine, “Yes, please? I don’t want to look stupid.” Six can’t help but scoff at you and roll his eyes as he pushes off the frame to walk over to the closet, chiding, “You wouldn’t look stupid. A little out of place, but not stupid.”

A wave of nervousness flutters over you again as you watch Six walk up to the rack of dresses and start flipping through them. It’s one thing to pretend to be dating the man in front of you. It’s entirely different watching him pick out an outfit for you to wear while you are pretending to be dating him.

He pauses for a minute, stepping back to look at you with that same, thoughtful look on his face. The bearded blonde looks you directly in the eyes before stating, “Okay, there are a couple of things we need to accomplish here.”

Six turns to face you completely before rattling off, “Number one, and perhaps the most important thing, you need to feel comfortable in whatever you wear. Tonight, tomorrow, the whole mission. If you don’t feel comfortable, you aren’t going to look comfortable.”

You nod up at him as you tug your arms around yourself tighter, and he continues, “Number two - we need to look the part. What I mean is that you,” he points to you, “And I,” he points to himself, “Need to look cohesive. We don’t have to match, but we need to look like we are together.”

A lump forms in your throat at his words. Easy enough, right? Wrong. Six’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts again, “And finally, number three. You need to feel like a rich girl.” You stare blankly at him, confusion evident on your face. He sighs and looks around before motioning with his hands, “You need to embrace being spoiled. You need to feel pretty, dolled up, worthy of being here with Lawson.”

Heat floods over you again at the implication of his words. Fuck, he totally picked up on my unease. He so knows I don’t think I should be here.

All you can do is wordlessly nod at Six, silence flooding the room. He exhales through his nose before wiping at his face, “Sorry, I don’t mean to-” “No, no, no”, you wave your hands dismissively in front of you, “I needed to hear that. I needed that.”

Six looks at you with a slightly furrowed brow, and his hands come up to rest on his hips. You point to the closet behind him and offer, “We can choose an outfit together?” The bearded blonde blinks once before giving you a curt nod and a murmur of, “Sure.”

You move to stand on one end of the closet while Six stands at the other. With his words bouncing around in your head, you start to flip through the hangers. Six is quiet but starts at the other end of the closet, taking his time as he looks over each dress.

A moment passes, and he steps back, a hanger clutched in one of his hands. The first thing you notice about the dress on the hanger is that it’s made of a satin material. There is a pleasant shift and shine to the dress that catches your eye. 

It looks to have a cowl neckline paired with thin straps to hold it up. There is a slight ruching to pull the material up toward the left hip to create some shape and accentuate the waist of the wearer. This leaves a slit on the left side of the hem, the whole dress likely stopping a couple of inches below the wearer’s knees.

The dress itself is a pleasant chocolate brown color and, with the shift of the light, glimmers like an amber jewel. You glance between the dress and Six, who is looking at you expectantly. An immediate thought comes to mind.

It matches the earthy tones of his shirt and pants perfectly. You take a breath and remind yourself, We need to look cohesive. You stare up at Six and shrug before mumbling, “It’s probably the best option. It’s pretty.”

Six huffs a laugh out and hands you the hanger before murmuring, “Go try it on.” You let a slight smile curl onto the corner of your mouth as you take the hanger from him. You give him one last glance, and when you meet his gaze, he shoots you a wink of encouragement.

If you thought you wanted to sink through the floor before, you really wanted to disappear now.

You do as he says and slip out of the bedroom without another word. You make your way to the bathroom, heat coursing through your body in waves. Quickly shutting the door behind you, you slip out of your sweatpants and t-shirt, giving the dress one more look before shimmying into it.

It takes some adjusting to get the neckline to sit the way you want it, but you end up happy with the way you look. The dress hugs your body in all of the right places, and the slit isn’t quite as high as you thought, which makes you relieved. 

As you gaze at yourself in the mirror, you realize you need to do something with your hair. Thankfully, you left your hair supplies on the edge of the counter during your mad makeup dash, so you plug in your curling iron and reach for some bobby pins.

Then, with as much grace as you can muster, you start curling and pinning pieces away from your face. Delicately, you curl locks of hair near your forehead and cheeks to frame the angles of your face, fastening the rest of the hair on your neck up into a messy updo.

After you find your hair suitable, you reach into a small box filled with bits of jewelry. You decide against wearing a necklace, wanting to show off the neckline of the dress for what it is. You do, however, find a pair of diamond studs that you like, and you set them on the counter before putting the box off to the side.

Just as you start to slide the first earring on, there’s another knock at the door. This time, you are more prepared as you call back, “It’s open.” You fiddle with the back of the earring for a second, both hands working to fit the small piece of jewelry to your ear.

The door swings open slowly, and Six appears, casually folding his arms across his chest as he leans back against the doorframe. The cuffed material of his shirt grows taut around his forearms, so he shuffles to get comfortable. But his brows raise in appreciation at your new appearance, although you don’t notice due to being immersed in grabbing your second earring.

You look up to meet his gaze through the mirror, and a swell of emotion runs through you as you see him look at you with a new intensity. You look back down at the earring in your hands, and you move your hands up to fasten it to your other ear as you mumble, “Do I look alright?”

Six lets his stormy gaze float over your up-do to the curve of your shoulders and collarbones, delicately detailed by the straps of your dress. They dip to the neckline of your dress, respectfully, before honing in on the way the dress clings to the curve of your hips and waist.

The mirror doesn’t let him see any further down your front side, but his gaze flits to your backside facing him. His gaze wanders slow, appreciating the low cut of the backside of the dress before sliding down a little further to briefly view the curve of your ass. He quickly diverts it down to see the bare expanse of your legs and your bare feet.

He has to clear his throat before he glances back at your reflection in the mirror, murmuring, “You look wonderful. But it doesn’t matter what I think, how do you feel?” You feel hot under the scrutiny of his gaze, and you quickly finish securing the earring before smoothing your hands over the dress.

You angle yourself away from the mirror slightly to look at the backside of the dress, making sure your hair is still in place. You turn toward him and shrug sheepishly, “I guess not too bad.” This makes Six scoff at you playfully, and he motions with his head toward the door, “You better get a pair of shoes on, Ms. Brooks. We’re going to be late.”

This makes you giggle, some tension leaving your body as you mock-salute him and reply, “Oh, alright, Mr. Lawson.” You slip past Six, leaving the bearded blonde alone, staring at himself in the mirror.

You are going to be the death of him.

The deep brown carpeted steps leading from the main lobby down to the lounge are plush underfoot, your dark heels sinking into the material ever so slightly. Large signs are directing you and Six toward the bar where the cocktail party is taking place, and you can hear faint dance music up ahead.

The bearded blonde has one hand comfortably cupped around your waist, the other casually tucked inside the pocket of his coffee-colored trousers. To an outsider, Six looks calm as a clam, but you can feel the tension running through him. It’s a subtle, underlying tension, but it’s there nonetheless.

You, on the other hand, look a lot more nervous than he does. It would be simple for anyone to pick up on your uneasiness, but you’re trying to calm your rapidly beating heart with shallow breaths. Six slows you down just as you get to the threshold of the cocktail party, and you can see people milling about, drinking, and talking.

Six leans down to your ear, quietly murmuring, “You need to relax.” A flare of frustration wells up in you as you momentarily glare up at him and, through clenched teeth, whisper shout back, “I’m trying!”

The frustration isn’t necessarily targeted at Six. He’s trying to do his job, and he has to babysit you while you wrestle with your overactive emotions. You’re angry with yourself that you are this out of your element on the mission. You’re usually a badass, not a whimpering piece of ‘eye-candy’!

Six squeezes your waist in a firm warning - We need to focus. Your teeth clamp down on your tongue hard, not enough to draw blood, but enough for you to keep your mouth shut. You inhale deeply through your nose before exhaling through your mouth, forcing your body to relax a notch.

The obvious attempt at soothing your nerves must have been enough for Six, who rolls his shoulders before guiding the two of you into the bar.

It’s fairly dark in the lounge, which you guess is to be expected since it is partially underground. There are a couple of tall windows and a door in the far corner of the room that show the deepening twilight sky. On the outside of the door, you can barely make out a path of twinkling lights that seems to lead out to the beach.

You pull your gaze away from the back corner as you start noting the different types of people roaming about. There are workers dashing around - dressed in indistinct, uniform outfits - while they refill drinks, bring out food orders, and clean abandoned tables.

But then, there are men and women from what seems to be every corner of the world littering the room. You knew from the mission briefing that there would be a wide variety of people, and this party would be the perfect opportunity to scout for potential leads or informants.

Six’s stormy gaze is also casually scoping out the bar, wanting to find a table or area out of the throes of people so the two of you can settle in. Tonight isn’t meant to be super high stakes - just a taste of the people you would be interacting with and establishing yourselves as a new force in the industry.

You and Six had both agreed that you likely wouldn’t be seeing The Lion tonight - it was too casual for him to just make an appearance. There was a possibility for Bad Brad to show up, and that is what Six is focusing on. Your goal is to just gather as much intel and information as you can to help formulate the next steps in the mission.

Finally, as you and Six begin weaving in and out of people, you start to feel at ease. Something about focusing on the mission makes your brain stop overthinking, and your training seems to kick in.

Your chin moves from being tipped down in adverse nerves to being held level, a determination setting in your eyes as you match the energy Six is leading with. For a split second, you feel impenetrable. With Six next to you, confidence seeps through your body, flowing out into the space around you.

After a moment of pushing past people, the area in front of you seems to part open and is instead lined with small seating areas. You suddenly start to notice a small group of people looking in your direction, their gazes flashing toward you and Six before whispering to those next to them.

Then, you see it happen again on the other side of the room, unfamiliar gazes devouring the fresh presence of you and the bearded blonde. It begins to dawn on you that these people are watching you and Six. Not just looking at you, but acknowledging that your presence is new.

And just as you think your nerves have settled down, a fresh wave of butterflies blooms in your stomach. For a moment, you think you are going to vomit. You internally scramble to hold onto that false sense of confidence, but it seems to be far away now.

Six, however, is unchanged. He looks cool and collected with you wrapped up in his arm. There is an aura of danger that seems to twinkle around him due to the hard set of his jaw, but the look in his eye is less threatening.

You lean up to Six’s ear as uncertainty floods over you again, and you whisper, “Why are they looking at us?” He’s quiet for a second as he guides you around a small couch and toward a less busy area of the bar.

“Not us. They’re all looking at you,” his voice comes out low and gravelly. His words wash over you with a blistering heat, and whatever is left of your confident resolve crumbles. You tuck yourself closer to Six and angle your face toward him to fend off unwanted viewers from the shy look dusting your features.

Six’s arm is solid under your touch, and he doesn’t waver as you draw closer to him. He guides you to the less crowded area he has scoped out, close to the corner with all of the windows you had originally seen.

The two of you stop at a round, medium-sized table with a couple of barstools. Six spins you around to face him, caging you in against the table. Despite the movement disturbing the butterflies in your gut, all you can focus on is Six. It’s a welcome distraction, one that drowns out everything else going on in the bar.

Six pulls the hand out of his pocket to rub at his face before looking down to meet your gaze, which is already trained on him. He shoots you a small, encouraging look and murmurs, “What kind of drink would you like?”

You blink at him, your memory running blank as you try to think of any drink you’ve ever heard of. The first name that comes to mind makes heat bloom over your face, and you have to tear your eyes away from Six as you mumble, “Sex on the beach, with ice.”

Deep down, you know it’s a drink that will make you fit in with the other women here. They’re all carrying glasses of rainbow colored drinks and twirly straws, so your order doesn’t seem to be too far-fetched. Plus, you know you won’t be drinking it; you need to stay sharp, after all.

Six raises an eyebrow at your request, but you’ve decided your feet are more interesting to look at. He gives you a nod and releases his hold on your waist with a quip of, “Sounds good. Wait here, I’ll be back.”

As he pulls away, you suddenly miss his presence. You are alone now. The thought comes rushing quicker than you would’ve liked, and you swallow to fight down the never-ending nerves. You glance around the room as Six walks away, disappearing in the crowd toward the bar.

You shuffle a moment before deciding to sit on one of the barstools. You move with precision, calculating your vantage point as you shift the chair to get a slightly wider-angled view of the bar. Delicately, you cross your legs, straightening out the fabric of your shimmery dress.

Then, you take a centering deep breath and let your eyes flutter closed.

You let the sounds of the bar wash over you in waves. It starts off with the thrum of music - it’s not terribly loud, but the harsh beat cuts through every couple of seconds. Then, you focus on the next layer of sound - laughter and general background talking with no distinct voices.

You take another deep breath, concentrating on the voices closer to you. This comes naturally, but still, you make sure to be precise. To your right, on the other side of the door leading outside, is a group of men. They’re talking business - stocks, bonds, inflation. Details are lost on you.

To your left, there are two sets of women and men, presumably couples. They’re beyond drunk, laughing and telling stories from their youth. One of the men seems to be speaking in a language you don’t understand every couple of words, but you don’t think it’s terribly important.

Then, in front of you - there are footsteps. Your (colored) gaze snaps open as you catch sight of three women approaching your empty table. Instinctively, your arms want to fold across your chest or reach to your hip for a nonexistent gun, but you force yourself to relax.

You lower your shoulders from your ears and rest one elbow against the table as you cup your cheek, eyeing the women up. 

The first girl is the shortest. She has unnaturally blonde hair that has highlights of almost pure white, and the locks are cut short into a tight bob. It looks like she has blue eyes and is very… outgoing. She’s laughing and chatting with the other two women as they approach, a nearly empty drink in her hand.

The second girl is the most serious. She has a tight-lipped smile, not unfriendly, but not as outgoing as the first. She has long, brown hair that is parted down the center of her head and is pin straight. She looks like she might be the most mature one, or the ‘mom friend’ of the group.

The third girl is adorable, frankly. She seems to be the youngest, with shoulder-length mouse brown hair that is cut in layers. She’s talking with the first girl, quietly, but a sweet smile rests on her lips. Immediately, she seems to be the most approachable.

A moment later, the three women stop in front of your table, and the short blonde is the first to speak. “Hey girl! We saw you sitting here alone and thought you might like some company!” Her voice is high-pitched and almost shrill.

If you weren’t as skilled at your job, you would have flinched away and asked for some earplugs. An easy, carefree smile rests on your lips despite your heart slamming against your ribcage.

“Is that so?” you ask coolly, forcing your voice to stay soft. You pray that it comes off relaxed and slightly sultry, as that’s the energy the bar seems to bring. The blonde’s smile seems to grow at your response, and she exclaims, “Yeah! We didn’t recognize you, usually these trips are all with the same group of people!”

A pang of unease washes over you. I need to be careful, the words float through your mind. The mature brunette chimes in, “What Whitney means to say is that we are trying to welcome all of the new people and wanted to say hello.”

The blonde, Whitney, smiles a bit sheepishly before giggling, “Yeah, sorry, Sophia! I just get so excited!” She basically squeals and clasps her hands around her pink-colored drink, “Do you mind if we sit with you?! We would love to hear how you got invited!”

Your fingers twitch where they cup your cheek. Six isn’t back yet. I don’t know how long it’ll be. You take a clipped breath and motion to the open bar stools near you with a hum of, “Sure thing, ladies.” They all simultaneously move to sit around the table, with Whitney to your left,  Sophia in front of you, and the third girl to your right.

Sophia, the mature brunette, is the next one to speak, “So you are new to this group, right?” The words come out nonchalantly, but you refrain from trusting her. You glance at each woman before shrugging, “Yeah, you could say that. This is my first time going out of the country on business with my partner.”

The fresh-faced girl, whose name you didn’t know, pipes up, “That’s exciting! It’s nice to see a new, gorgeous girl around here.” Whitney giggles at the other girl’s response and says, “You are so right, Isabella! We’ve been needing some fresh blood around here for forever!”

Ah, so the third girl’s name is Isabella. Whitney, Sophia, and Isabella. Whitney’s comment makes a flag go off in your brain for a moment. ‘Fresh blood?’ That’s an odd way to put it. You try not to think about it, instead brushing it off and attributing it to the now nearly-empty drink in her hands.

You give the girls a tight-lipped smile as you glance out over their heads, still no Six. Your gaze is forced back to them as Isabella sweetly asks, “What brings you to Petalas then?” Your smile softens as your gaze flits to the younger girl.

Time to put my acting skills to the test.

You take a dreamy breath in, and let your smile grow into a contented grin as you lift your head from your hand. You set your hands on your lap as you reply, “My boyfriend, he’s the one who brought me to Petalas.”

All three women in front of you let out a series of “aw’s” as you gauge their reaction. Perfect. You continue slowly, “He, uhm, he asked me to join him for this business trip. Usually, he doesn’t want to bother me with trips, but this time he did.”

Whitney leans forward with an adoring smile as she asks, “Why did he bring you on this one?!” You stifle a giggle and wave your hand at her, “He thought I would ‘enjoy the views,’ which sounds pretty low, but I promise it’s more than that.”

All of the women lean in now, immersed in the lies you are spinning, “He knows that I really love nature, that I love to feel connected to it. And he thought that travelling would be a great way for us to bond and experience a new part of nature together.”

The words come out a little more ‘hipster-esque’ than you would have liked, but they all seem to buy it. Sophia gives you a thoughtful nod with a smile, while Whitney squeals and scrunches her shoulders up to her ears.

Isabella, on the other hand, just gives you a sweet smile and a chime of, “He sounds really lovely.” It quiets for a moment, but then you start up again, “So what about you ladies? What brings you to Petalas?”

Whitney instantly reaches out for you, her palm slapping down on the table in excitement. It takes everything in you not to flinch at the harsh movement, but you focus on her as she interjects, “My husband is just here for the drinks. We are supposed to be here on business, but I’m pretty sure he just likes the bartenders.”

Sophia and Isabella laugh at her, so you follow their body language and huff out a chuckle. Isabella cuts in and tells you, “This is actually my first time at an event of this scale too. I’ve known these two,” she motions to Whitney and Sophia, “But I’ve never been on a trip this…” and her words trail off.

You nod at her as you finish for her, “This intense?” She smiles at you and nods back, “Yeah, exactly.” You can’t help but be drawn to her more than the other women. She seems like she might be easy to befriend in a short while, and that could be helpful for establishing alibis and learning more about the resort.

It’s quiet for a moment between the four of you, and Whitney sighs happily before polishing off her drink. Sophia looks at you and casually shrugs, “You said you have a boyfriend, where is he at?”

Nerves wash over you at the word boyfriend, and your breathing stutters for a second before your practiced smile washes over your face again. You glance in the direction of the bar, only to discover that the crowd has thinned, and you can see the patrons sitting around the hanging racks of booze.

Instantly, you catch sight of the diamond-patterned shirt Six is wearing. A part of you relaxes at the sight of him, and your smile grows as you watch him. You point in his direction and mumble, “That’s my boyfriend.”

At the same you and all of the other girls locate Six’s figure, he happens to glance over at you. You lock eyes with him, and you can see a flash of emotion run over his face. Quickly, he regains his cool, collected composure and gives you an upward nod of What’s up?

You quickly brush him off with a delicate wave of your wrist, letting a sigh fall from your mouth. Six watches you for a moment, his gaze flickering up and down your covered frame before he shoots a quick wink and smirk in your direction.

That bastard knows exactly what he’s doing.

Heat blossoms throughout your body, burning your cheeks and the tips of your ears. It courses down the exposed skin of your throat and chest. It is suddenly too warm for you, everywhere.

The sounds of the women beside you giggling in tandem break your gaze away from the bearded blonde, whose smirk hasn’t left his face. Whitney’s voice cuts through your embarrassment, “Girl, if that is your man?! You are one lucky lady!”

You can’t help but uncomfortably laugh, but then Isabella’s voice chimes in, “We want all of the details! How did y’all meet?” You glance over at her as the heat starts to ever so slightly dissipate, and you shrug, “We met 3 years ago at a showing for a house I was giving.”

The women all stop and look at you with confused looks on their faces. Sophia cocks her head and reiterates, “You were giving a house tour?” You mimic their confused looks and respond, “Yeah, I’m a realtor, and Reed was looking at the house I was selling.”

Sophia frowns as she lowers her voice and murmurs, “None of the women here… work. We don’t really do that sort of thing.” A frown starts to set in your brow as you play her words over in your head, and then Fitzroy’s words hit you.

“Don’t worry, this is a very common thing for people in this type of industry.”

You take a clipped breath and backtrack, “Well, at the time, I was single and hadn’t been dating much. And I built my wealth selling houses internationally, so it worked for me.” You drum your fingers on the table and then shrug, regaining your cool, “But once Reed started taking me out, I stopped working as much.”

You give the girls a coy look and continue, “It’s just a side hustle now, something that I enjoy. Reed is the breadwinner, but he likes that I stay busy. He uhm,” you look down and huff out a laugh, “He likes it when I do all of the work, if you know what I mean.”

With a quick wink, you brush a piece of hair out of your eyes as you gauge the women’s reactions. The tension that had built quickly snaps as they all begin to giggle at your dirty joke.

Isabella sighs and motions to continue, so you do with a giggle, “So, remember how I told you I like nature? Well, Reed, he was so sweet, he rented out a whole state forest for a day because he thought I would like it.” You shuffle in your chair and glance at Whitney before saying, “Well, he packed a picnic basket with my favorite snacks, and we hiked up to one of the best waterfalls in the park.”

You glance away from them and toward the bar where Six’s figure had been. You stare off into the distance dreamily as you recite, “He stood at the base of the falls, took me by the hand, and asked if I would be his girl. It was super misty, and his eyes were so blue.”

Your voice trails off as you picture Six as you described. It was a complete overromanticization of the man. He would never do that. But as Reed? Anything was possible.

Sophia is the one to chime in this time, a fond smile tugging on her mouth before she asks, “So how long have you two been dating then?” You turn back to the girls and shrug, “A little over 2 years.”

Whitney reaches for your hand and drunkenly giggles, “When do you think you guys are gonna get marri-” “Hello, ladies”, a silky, low voice interrupts. You turn to face the source of the voice, and your heart lurches when you see Six standing behind you, two drinks in his hands.

Heat threatens to burn across your cheeks as you realize what conversation he just walked into, but he shows no signs of caring if he heard what Whitney was asking. You lean back to look up at him, blinking gently at him as he chuckles, “Sorry, ladies, just giving this to my girl.”

He hands you the drink, notably, a sex on the beach cocktail with ice, and leans down slowly. His goatee tickles your skin, and your hand wobbles for a second as his lips make gentle contact with your cheek. 

You can hear Whitney and Isabella coo and fawn over the sweet display of intimacy, and internally, you are right there with them. He pulls back slowly, meeting your gaze with a twinkle in his blue one. He gestures over his shoulder and murmurs, “I’m going to the billiards tables with the guys to talk business.”

You barely tip your chin in a subtle nod, your lips parting as you stare up at him. Six smiles and brushes a piece of hair out of your face before saying a little louder, “I’ll meet you back at the room whenever I’m done.”

He quickly fishes a copy of the room key out of his pocket and hands it to you, which you take with as much grace as you can muster. Your fingers shake when they brush his, but he doesn’t say anything. 

When he steps away, he gives the women sitting with you a respectful nod and turns to begin walking away. Just as he moves, he turns over his shoulder and calls out, “Oh, and El,” and you swivel to meet his gaze with interest.

With a charming, knowing smile, he finishes, “Don’t forget to put that black dress on for later. You know, the one that I like.” You set your glass down a little too firmly, the loud clank ringing out against the smooth surface of the table. Six had already started walking away, but you can tell by the swagger in his step that he is pleased with himself.

You would’ve done anything to curse him up and down for being such a… tease, but you have to turn your attention to the three girls sitting with you. All of them are looking at you with wide eyes and their mouths parted open.

Whitney nudges you and guffaws, “Girl, you better go getcha some!” Your fingers tighten their hold on your drink, and you blink at them owlishly. You want nothing more than to dig yourself a hole and never reappear, but you give them a shy grin and nod.

You slide from your barstool and gush over your shoulder, “I suppose I should go get changed, girls. It was lovely chatting with you, but it seems I’ve got plans for later now.” You try to keep your voice light and flirty, but your stomach is twisting and turning in knots.

They call their goodbyes as you begin to walk away, following the same path Six took moments before. As you move away from them, setting your drink down on an empty table in passing, an unsettling feeling washes over you.

You replay every word that the girls said to you and every word you said to them. Your eyes widen as you walk up the deep brown carpeted steps you walked in on as the realization sets in.

They never asked you for your name.

[appears]

25th Anniversary

Ayumi Hamasaki: ayu-mi-x II version Non-Stop Mega Mix (2000.03.29)

Ayumi Hamasaki's ayu-mi-x II version Non-Stop Mega Mix is the final release in the ayu-mi-x II series which began with the trio US+EU, JPN, and Acoustic Orchestra, released on March 8, 2000. This one was released three weeks later (the vinyl version of JPN was released two months later), and interpolates an edited selection of remixes from all three in one continuous mix. All four of these releases are connected in multiple ways: cover art, concept design, and the inclusion of individual photos that create a larger picture when laid side by side, like a puzzle. The first-press edition of these were particularly spectacular. As if this remix bonanza wasn't enough (especially if you count all the remixes being included on her new maxi-singles released around the same time), this version includes a second disc which features even more full-length remixes, notably the first remix of "Far away," Ayu's newest and as-then still unreleased single, which would come out two months later.

The ayu-mi-x II series is my absolute favorite series of remixes by Ayumi. ayu-mi-x II version US+EU was one of the first Ayu albums I ever bought, and as someone raised on dance music, it was a good gateway into her original material. I love everything about these: the various genres of dance music presented by the dozens of unique producers, Ayu's four different chic, 60s/Shibuya-kei inspired looks on the jackets, and the first-press editions which featured glitter embedded in the jewel cases and a cool transparent design on the back. This mega-mix gives you a great sampling of all of the remixes contained on the other discs, except for maybe the Acoustic Orchestra one, as pieces of those include extra beats added to keep the uptempo momentum of the mix going. Most of the best remixes are packed at the front, but I'm hard-pressed to find any moment of disc one that gets boring until the very end.

Disc 2 has some memorable remixes, including the very first version of "Far away" that was released on CD, "HAL's MIX 2000," which was used in the commercials for the TU-KA cellphone that Ayu was promoting at the time (the excerpt in the ad seems to be slightly different from that on the album). The only issue is the lack of variety in song selection: there are three remixes apiece of "kanariya," and "Fly high," which feel a bit like leftovers that didn't make the singles' original cuts. Plus, we had already had so many remixes of those songs by that point, that it was a bit of overkill, especially when they weren't necessarily doing anything different or amazing with the source material.

However, overall, this is a great introduction to the classic Ayu remix-verse, since it contains so many different iconic remixes all in one place, and provides a launch pad to which you can go seek out the full-length remixes if you like what you hear -- and some are absolute requirements in their full length-forms, like the "Junior's Appears On The Air" mix of "appears," or the "Ferry 'System F' Corsten Vocal Edit Mix" of "WHATEVER." Note: Some of the mixes on the US+EU and JPN versions are still not full-length -- a few appear in still-longer edits on maxi-singles.

First-press editions of these CDs also came with a photo card that created a larger picture when combined with photo cards from the other versions, while the Non-Stop version featured a photo card of all four Ayus, later used as the jacket art of the JPN vinyl. Later editions came in a standard jewel case with OBI.

Catalog Number: AVCD-11800/1

[timetravellingkitty]

Mulan 2020 sucks lol

Written and edited by yours truly

So, Mulan 2020 happened. And I am disappointed. Seriously disappointed. It is utter garbage. I would genuinely prefer it if I watched Mulan II 5 times in a row, and that's saying something.

There is so much to talk about because this has so many issues. I don't think my brain can handle a movie as bad as this for some time. It is a disgrace to the original animated movie.

(Who cares about spoilers?)

And yes, I can and I will compare it to the original movie because it is a remake. It is totally valid to see where this fell flat and where the original succeeded. I'm not saying it has to be like the original cartoon, that is stupid. As I mentioned, it's to highlight the failures of this movie.

Besides, even if we forget the fact that it is a remake, this movie is still horrible.

INTRODUCTION

Mulan 1998 is a classic. It has great visuals, an awesome soundtrack, wonderful and compelling characters, a great message and a cool plot. It's just a great movie in general. It is an adaptation of The Ballad of Mulan, a Chinese legend. Both the legend and the animated movie are about a young girl named Mulan who disguises herself as a man to take her father's place in the army to fight back against an invasion.

As big of a success Mulan was, Chinese audiences thought some things were weird. For instance, having a dragon be a comic relief character, given that dragons are highly respected in Chinese culture. So of course, Disney decided to try another shot, claiming that they wanted to be more culturally sensitive, accurate and closer to the original ballad.

Mulan 2020 is a remake of the original animated movie, and was marketed to be more "accurate to Chinese culture and the Ballad". This claim is, of course, false, because they failed in that aspect. Say what you will about the cultural inaccuracies in Mulan 1998, but at least it was a great movie. Besides, Mulan 1998 didn't pride or market itself on being culturally accurate, the way Mulan 2020 did, so there's that.

CHANGES

I don't mind some changes. And honestly, if there's one thing I appreciate, it's that it isn't a carbon copy of the original (looking at you The Lion King 2019).

Li Shang's character is divided into two characters: Commander Tung and Mulan's love interest Honghui, apparently in light of the Me-Too movement. This is a dumb reason. Disney wasn't comfortable with a superior having a relationship with a subordinate? The hell? The romance between Shang and Mulan was only insinuated at the end, when Mulan wasn't even a part of the army anymore, so there's that. Also, Mulan gave her consent, so I don't know what they’re talking about.

Mushu isn't present in the movie. I can see why though. He contributed quite a bit to the soul of the animated version but a CGI dragon would be very distracting. Also, the director said that removed him to achieve a more realistic tone.

Grandma? No grandma. Mulan has a sister though, who only exists to mess stuff up.

The Huns are replaced with the Rourans and Shan Yu is replaced with Bori Khan.

Mushu is replaced with a phoenix, who acts as an emissary for the ancestors

There are no songs, except in the end credits, which isn't a bad thing. The instrumentals of the songs in the animated one play during some scenes (I'll talk about the music, don’t worry)

CHARACTERS

The characters in this movie are so boring. Our lead character Mulan lacks the charisma her animated counterpart had. She's utterly bland, uninteresting and poorly written. In the original, she knew she wasn't physically strong and that she couldn't solve her problems with her strength, so she used her intelligence and wit. She excelled by working hard and being strong willed and determined. This Mulan is a well rounded character.

Mulan in the live action is given Chi powers (Chi is a big part of Chinese medicine, in case you didn't know). Honestly, I wouldn't be as mad at Mulan being given superpowers, had they actually done this properly! Chi isn't like midichlorians, it's something that flows through everyone. Mulan is naturally born with dumb superpowers and has to hide them because as her dad says, " Chi is for warriors, not for daughters”. There is a problem:

It has been mentioned many times that Mulan needs to hide her superpowers otherwise she will be shunned and ostracised. Then why doesn't she get more repercussions everytime she uses her powers? The worst thing that happens is little Mulan getting looks of disgust when she uses them. On other occasions, when she is now a part of the army, she uses her powers in training and she doesn't get any backlash? What the hell?? Then why even bother in the first place?

The only way for this narrative to work is if Mulan got more repercussions for using her powers.

If I were to make the line "Chi is for warriors, not daughters," work, I would make it go something like this:

*At the end of the movie when Mulan comes home*

Dad: Didn't I tell you that Chi is for warriors, not daughters?

Mulan: "I am a daughter, but I'm a warrior too."

(Yes, I know this is similar to a scene in Avatar: The Last Airbender, but this would be better, tbh. Also, watch Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Let me compare the training montages from both movies.

In the animated one, there is an absolutely AWESOME montage of Mulan training side by side with her companions, slowly gaining their trust. She climbs the pillar with both medallions by using her wit, not by brute force. This Mulan worked hard. Besides, the fact that "I'll Make A Man Out Of You" plays over this is the only thing that makes it better (banger song, thank you Donny Osmond)

In the live-action, Mulan is supposed to lift up buckets and climb on top of a mountain. There are also other training scenes, but those aren't very important. In these scenes, she succeeds with the power of CHI. WHY? Mulan here just achieves her goal because she is oh so special. She didn't work to achieve her goal at all, because she is perfect. No struggling or development here at all.

Mulan in the animated version was more concerned about saving her father. Mulan in the 2020 version is a dumb patriot who can't even do patriotism right ("I know my place. It is my duty to fight for the kingdom and protect the Emperor") How very empowering.

In short, live-action Mulan can do no wrong. She has no flaws, no personality and no charm. Everything comes to her pretty easily, because MAGIC.

Li Shang's role in the live-action is divided between Commander Tung and Mulan's love interest Honghui, as mentioned before. Both of these characters are flat, dumb and boring. Tung exists to tell Mulan to cultivate her Chi and to train these idiots (and to offer his daughter’s hand in marriage to her, unaware that Mulan isn’t actually a guy, but eh). Honghui is there to be a stupid love interest, who gives us an “I am Spartacus” moment.

The witch is by far the most interesting character. She actually has more than one side to her, has SOME kind of depth and you can even feel sorry for her. She is supposed to serve as a foil to Mulan, given that both have similar powers. In case you've forgotten (which is something I wouldn't blame you for), she's an outcast who's now working with Bori Khan. Why is she an outcast? Because of her Chi. The witch has said many times that she could kill Bori Khan in a snap, then why doesn't she kill him? Because she needs acceptance? What the hell? She decides to pull out the whole "We're the same, you and I," stupidity to Mulan, and I can see that. It's just that the writers just didn't put much thought into it. “It’s too late for me” because you saw a woman leading an army of men? Also, why does she warn Mulan that Bori Khan is coming? Unless she's playing both sides, except her motivations aren't made clear enough for this to make sense. Finally, she dies for the dumbest reason. God, it just makes me so mad. She had so much potential, but no. They just had to mess her up.

Bori Khan? MORE LIKE BORING KHAN. Not much is there. His animated counterpart Shan Yu was scary and contributed to some of the darkest moments in the movie. This guy over here is just...nothing. That's all I have to say.

Mulan's sister is only there to mess up the meeting with the Matchmaker. What a stupid change. First off in the animated version, it's Mulan who messed up, because she isn't perfect. She fails at being stereotypically feminine AND masculine, but in the live-action, she literally pulls off a Spiderman cafeteria scene, and the blame is put on the sister. In the animated movie, this scene is groundwork for Mulan wanting to prove herself and going on a hero's journey, providing depth to her character, but in the live-action, she's perfect. What is the point? (I know this section was supposed to be about the sister, but eh). The sister doesn't provide anything else to the movie, so thanks! I hate it. Moral of the story: Girls can do anything boys can, as long as they have superpowers. If you are born special like Mulan, you can be respected, whereas if you are like the sister, you have no significance and in the end, you can just fit in and be irrelevant. Congratulations!

The live action group of guys Mulan met and befriended in the army lack the charm and comedic timing of their animated counterparts. That’s it. Seriously. I have nothing more to say about them, because they don't really have anything going on. I don't even know why they are included, because their contribution is nil, save for them blandly speaking lines from the animated version’s songs ("I don't care what she looks like, I care what she cooks like"), which is seriously cringe.

The dad is there to tell Mulan that Chi is for warriors. A shame, because I really liked the dad in the movie. He was a source of wisdom for Mulan, whose greatest honour was having her for a daughter. In the live-action, he just takes the sword that Mulan is given at the end of the movie. The mom is meh.

The emperor is also meh. At least he was wise and cool in the animated version, but here he just does bed sheet kung-fu.

Did I mention that the dynamics between the characters are unnatural, forced, awkward in a bad way and in no way indicates any chemistry between them? Oh yeah, I didn’t, until now. They don’t establish much when it comes to emotion.

Simply put, Khan (Mulan’s horse in the animated version) had more personality than all of these characters combined

PERFORMANCES

Liu Yifei as Mulan was a pretty terrible choice. She is just a block of wood, who has absolutely no range, and this isn't because of the writing. She is genuinely bad, and is regarded as one of China’s worst actors (I kid you not). She just can’t emote.

Jet Li as the emperor is meh. But hey, he doesn’t have much to do, so eh.

Jason Scott Lee as Bori Khan is fine. He doesn’t suck, but he lacks the command and authority of a character who is supposed to be intimidating, but I guess it has something to do with the writing of his character.

Donnie Yen is a martial art legend, but unfortunately, he doesn't have much range as an actor.

The best performance of this movie is that of Gong Li, who played the witch. Honestly, she is charismatic, charming and has an idea of what she is doing.

To save everyone’s time, simply put: most of the performances are bland and mediocre. Partly due to bad writing and partly due to most of the actors not being, well, good at acting.

CULTURAL AND HISTORICAL ACCURACY

So Disney went all “we like cultural and historical accuracy”, which is nice. For example, the Huns are replaced by the Rourans, a real tribe in China around the time Mulan was supposed to be alive. They also removed the hair cutting scene, because as iconic and awesome as it is, it doesn’t make sense. Chinese men wore their hair long too. You know what? I like these kinds of changes. I appreciate accuracy. If only Disney didn’t pride themselves on their accuracy when they got almost everything else wrong (They somehow got Mulan's house wrong lol). I don't know jackshit about Chinese culture so just go watch that Xiran Jay Zhao video it's very swag

THE BALLAD OF MULAN

In a surprising turn of events, this isn't accurate to the Ballad, like they had marketed it to be (I know, I’m shocked too). In a reference to the Ballad, Mulan is riding a horse and she sees two rabbits running side by side. She goes home and tells her family that she saw 2 rabbits, and she thinks that one was male and the other female, but she wasn't sure. This just misses the entire point of the Ballad.

Long story short, Mulan in the Ballad is actually a seamstress. She joined the army in her father's place. She defeats the barbarians and goes on a ten year long campaign with her friends, after which they meet the Son of Heaven (a sacred imperial title of a Chinese emperor). He offers her a high ranking position, which she refuses, because she just wants to go home. She returns home and her family welcomes her. Sometime later, her friends come to visit her, and they find out that she is actually a woman. The friends are shocked because she has been in the army for 12 years and in those 12 years, they didn't even realise that she was a woman.

Mulan then replies:

The male hare's feet hop and skip

The female hare's are muddled and fuddled

But when two hares are running side by side

How can you tell the male from the female?

Which is where the poem ends.

So, Mulan just going on, judging those rabbits like that makes absolutely no sense. The Ballad is about how no matter how different men and women look, when they live and fight amongst each other, who gives a damn about the differences? You know what would have made sense though? If Mulan got off her horse, went close to the rabbits, examined them, and then made the conclusion that one is male and the other is female. This would actually be sticking to the message of the Ballad. Also, why do they make it ambiguous as to whether she accepts the high ranking position? I assume for a sequel (yes, God save my soul). Here we can see another example of its impeccable accuracy to the Ballad.

THIS ISN'T EMOTIONAL AT ALL

Everything that made the original film good has been stripped away. Every moment that is meant to be emotional is very dull. For example, the scene where Mulan makes the decision to take her father's place in the army is supposed to be a very powerful scene. Mulan is risking it all just so her dad can be safe. She might be killed if discovered, and her family would be dishonoured.

When Mulan comes back from the Matchmaker, she has a moment of reflection while singing "Reflection". This is the beginning of her personal journey, discovering who she is. In this, after Mulan comes back from the Matchmaker, she doesn't have a moment of reflection. The army immediately shows up. Am I really supposed to believe that Mulan feels bad about this? That Mulan is really struggling?

When Mulan’s friends are singing, it suddenly shifts to the striking scene of the burnt village. This, in my opinion, is the best use of tonal whiplash. From this point on, things are getting serious, and the emotional weight of this tragedy is felt. In this, they just randomly show up at the village.​​ There is no seriousness (stop trying to tell me this movie is adult, mature and serious, it just looks like that on the surface).

Their attempts at being emotional are poor and unconvincing, and ultimately, the end product is an emotionless, soulless, depthless entity.

THE MUSIC

The director mentioned in an interview that she didn’t add songs into the movie because it is “unrealistic to break into song when you're in war”, and I don't think I’ve heard anything more false (apart from the concept of a flat Earth). Even I, who isn't going into war anytime soon, know this is false. They instead inserted instrumentals from the original film. Except, it's very weirdly placed. The instrumental for Reflection is placed when Mulan is fighting the Rourans after she reveals herself to be a woman. Like, there isn't any context. In the end credits, they had the original song "Loyal, Brave and True" sung by Christina Aguilera, which was nice. I don't really have much to say in regards to the music. The music is overall forgettable.

THE ACTION

The action may seem weird, but this kind of martial arts is a part of the Wuxia genre, which is what they were going for. Well, they failed. The choreography is bad, the CGI is bad, EVERYTHING is bad. Honestly, if you want a good Wuxia movie, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon exists. The action is here stupid and stiff.

OTHER DUMB STUFF

Why does Mulan take her armour off before going into battle? That is just stupid. Can't you just take the bindings off? Also, WHY OPEN YOUR HAIR-

Mulan really likes kicking spears (and pointy stuff in general). Seriously. It’s weird.

The CGI is okay I guess, I don't know. The phoenix in some scenes looks pink to me. There are some pretty visuals though.

It is very obvious that there is a green screen used in the scene where Mulan and her friends find the burnt village. And it looks bad. Pretty ugly. It looks bad. The green screen looks bad.

The war strategy is just weird. I can't really say anything about it in text form because how am i supposed to describe it, help- (she literally teleported behind the bad guys in the avalanche scene-).

I like how the animated film, which had a dragon as a comic relief and other silly stuff, is more mature than this.

For what joy does Mulan get another sword from the army? Also, shame the dad is all “oh look at the values written on the sword, they are honourable” even though in the original the greatest honour was having her for a daughter.

How was Mulan even able to tell the gender of the rabbits?

Why not just try to send a warning to the Emperor that the Rourans are coming to get him?

Why does Commander Tung let Mulan lead them-

I AM SO DONE

Well, I think I have said everything I wanted to about this movie. I know I havent talked about its controversies but honestly, I am done. I am so done with this. This document took 5-6 months of my life. I am kind of proud of this, and there isn't much I have done to be proud of. I did procrastinate on this a bit, and I had stuff going on, but finally, I am done. In the future, if I remember something, I'll add it here, but I think that is unlikely. I never want to watch or even go near Mulan 2020 again. It's horrible, and there is barely anything redeemable. I hate it here. It’s been reported that a sequel is in development. If it’s true, of course I’ll watch it, how else am I supposed to validate my self hate? I am also, of course, the resident “friend who suffers for everyone else’s entertainment”. If you want a live action remake of Mulan, Mulan: Rise of a Warrior exists. Go watch it, it’s free on YouTube with subtitles. I really liked it.

If you’ve somehow made it this far, thanks for reading. I congratulate you for putting up with whatever this is. I would also like to take a moment to congratulate myself for actually committing to this. It was painful yet fun to complain about this to the best of my ability. If anyone wants to add anything to this, feel free to do so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m out. I have lost my faith in humanity, and I have other things to complain about.

[firestorm09890]

post-tkt unorganized thoughts

not long it’s just spoilers

okay I lied it’s a little long

I’m so interested in the director Hubert guy. originally I said some stuff here about finding it hard to believe an executive director of a wing is cool but then I remembered Stephanette was also cool. and they both went to the edge of the city and wished on stars (well, I guess it was Stephanette's friend who did the wish)... hm. sucks how even someone near the top of the food chain can't make a change. on the other hand dude what are you going to do with those distortion-causing monoliths-

SAINT Sonya?? but also FUCK YEAH ALL 3 CANTO II FANS WE’RE SO BACK

they pointed out how Sonya’s plan was actually very smart- Rodya thought he was just hesitating too much, but in reality, by taking so long setting up his network, he made something unkillable. you can stop one person who took an axe and killed someone. you can’t stop hundreds of people in every wing who’ve organized

Rodya’s gotten worse! hooray!!! unlike some of the other sinners, whose traumas are localized, Rodya’s past will haunt her everywhere. It would have been boring to resolve it so fast when her whole deal is pretending not to see her problems, right? They’re already doing the “keep facing your seven exes after your character growth” thing with Yi Sang

Time Ripper has that classic communism problem where they’re like “FUCK how these guys are doing it, I’m built different, I’ll do this properly” and then they end up being unable to do things fairly anyway. I’ve never read Animal Farm but isn’t this the plot of Animal Farm

the part where he used a 48-rolling (edit: apparently it's 48+48. he just rolled tails when I did it. yikes) unclashable attack that would restore all his buffs was super cool bc it LOOKS scary to both the characters and the player and then it just. doesn’t work. special attack failed

also, wough, Rodya seeing herself in the Time Ripper…

Hong Lu’s family situation is concerning as hell but we been knew

Ryōshū demonstrating she cares about the others (wishing Sinclair was there to translate, attempting to cheer up Rodya at the end) is very awesome

I’m sure the talk of wishing on stars and following dreams near the end will be relevant in canto vii

Vergie is tired

very funny of them to end it by telling everyone they’re going on a WARP train

jazz dubstep is weird as fuck but I love it. I don’t usually like dubstep. jazz could fix dubstep

[writingquestionsanswered]

Trouble with Act III and Villain Motivation

feelingthedisaster asked: I have some issues with my current WIP. The basics are: a guy wants to be a "soldier" (not exactly, but I won't get into worldbuilding), but because he's an outcast he's blamed for the theft of an object that goes missing. He learns about a witch who can help him find the object and they go on a mission to find it, but he learns it was the witch who stole it because she was bored and accepted the job to hang out with people. Here are my concerns:

[Ask edited for length]

Issue #1 - I feel the witch's motivation is not strong enough. There is backstory explaining her loneliness and wanting to have friends, but stealing an object to go on a bogus mission and hang out with someone doesn't feel realistic.

You could definitely go a little bit further to bolster this motivation. Since you mention using Save the Cat!, and since the witch sounds like she might be a redeemable villain, have you considered. her "shard of glass" (psychological wound) that's driving her? What happened in her past that makes her feel like she isn't worthy of making friends in the usual way? Fleshing that out and building upon it creates a little more logic to why she would go so far out of her way just to get some companionship.

Issue #2 - My plot sucks. Act I - the solider gets kicked out, Act II - he and the witch go on the bogus mission and he finds out she's the true thief, Act III - I have no idea. It feels shitty, boring, and I wouldn't want to read this. Honestly, I just want to write my characters and made up plot so it would make sense, but I don't like the plot.

Well, looking at Save the Cat!, in Act III you need to solve the problems created in Act II. In other words, we need to look back at your story's midpoint... what was the false victory or false defeat? How did things get progressively worse or progressively better for the hero after that? In what way was the hero pushed to rock bottom? Based on what you've laid out for me, I feel like a good route to go (if you haven't already) is for there to be a false victory toward the end of Act II, perhaps where the witch--sensing that the hero is losing faith in her ability to help him find the object--tells him they're really close. They've almost got it. Then, as the "bad guys close in" moment, maybe (because they've grown close), she admits that she was the one who stole the object in the first place and promises to take him to it. But... ALL IS LOST! They get to where she'd hidden the object and it's gone! Now neither one of them have the object! At the end of Act II is the hero's "dark night of the soul" where he has to contemplate everything that's happened so far... getting kicked out, finding the witch and trusting her to lead him to the object, growing close to the witch, being betrayed by the witch (she's the true thief). And maybe he even really hurts her feelings by ditching her because he's so mad. This guy has hit rock bottom...

So, your "Break into III" is the moment where your character realizes what he must do to fix everything... First, realizing he can sympathize with the witch and forgive her, he must find her and accept her apology and apologize to her, too. Next, he figures out what happened to the object and how they can get it back. And finally, he realizes how he can get accepted back into whatever he was kicked out of without causing problems for the witch. So, Act III will be him realizing all of this, finding the witch, convincing her to listen to his apology and accepting her apology, telling her what he figured out about who stole the object from her--and how they can get it back, strategizing that plan, executing that plan, facing off against whoever took the object from the witch and getting it back once and for all, then returning the object to its rightful owners and proving that he didn't steal the object. (And, maybe they can blame whoever stole it from the witch to keep the witch from getting into trouble?) And then maybe the hero gets reinstated, or maybe he chooses to go off with the witch on more adventures. It's up to you. And it doesn't have to be any of this exactly, but hopefully it gives you some ideas for what else you can do.

I want to change the entire plot but I don't know how. On top of everything else, my chapters are short.

Well, hopefully now that I've shown you how much more your second and third acts can be, you won't need to change your plot. I think you already have everything here for a great story. You just needed to flesh things out a little bit more. Hopefully this helps you get there.

As far as your short chapters, I just answered another ask about that. Chapters are either a single scene or a group of 2-3 related scenes. So, when your chapters are too short, it's usually because your scenes aren't accomplishing everything they need to. This post goes into detail about that, so hopefully that will help!

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here