#I bet some people know perfectly well what was playing in the background during the arrangement of this post ����

[count-lero]

The session of plenipotentiaries that never happened,

Or The tale of how I rediscovered that one lithography of Isabey’s famous painting in extremely high resolution and went through a total recall, so that everybody could suffer (myself including) ⭐️

The arrival of the Duke of Wellington had not only affected Vienna's diplomatic activity and social calendar; it was also posing a problem to the painter Jean-Baptiste Isabey, who was trying to capture the congress on canvas. He had been working for some time, and he had finally found a way to balance all the strong personalities, many of them patrons, into one single painting, and yet not offend national sensibilities or fragile egos.

The painting, which depicted the delegates gathered in a conference room, turned out to be a compromise in the best spirit of Vienna diplomacy.

Metternich, the president of the Congress, draws the eye, as the only standing figure in the foreground.

Castlereagh, though, commands the center, sitting with his legs gracefully crossed and elbow resting on the table.

The light shining through the window, however, falls onto Talleyrand, sitting across the table with his dress sword at his side. An empty chair on both his right and left make him further stand out, as do the nearby figures who look to him, just as many of the smaller powers had sought his leadership the last few months.

As Isabey was putting the finishing touches to his composition, he had to figure out what to do about the fact that the Duke of Wellington was now also in town. Starting over was out of the question. Omitting a man of his stature was equally impossible. Yet it was not easy to incorporate him into a canvas on which all the best places had already been taken. The painter's solution was simple and elegant: why not make the painting commemorate the Duke of Wellington's arrival in Vienna?

That way, the duke could simply be inserted on the far left side of the painting, without any insult to his position. As for the duke's reluctance to be painted from a side angle (he was self-conscious about his nose), Isabey had overcome that with a well-targeted compliment: didn't Wellington look like the handsome and chivalric Henry IV? Pleased with this comparison, Wellington accepted, joking that Isabey was a "good enough diplomat to take part in the Congress".

The painter also had to apply his finesse to convince Humboldt to enter the studio. The Prussian ambassador hated to have his portrait made, and, sure enough, he first declined, claiming that he had "too ugly a face ever to spend a penny" on a portrait. With this statement, Isabey saw his opportunity and emphasized that he would not "ask the slightest recompense for the pleasant trouble I am going to take". Isabey only wanted "the favor of a few sittings".

"Oh, is that all?" Humboldt quickly came around when he realized it would not cost him anything. "You can have as many sittings as you like".

Later, many congratulated Isabey on his portrait, particularly the fine job with Humboldt. The Prussian did not pay anything, as agreed, and Isabey got his revenge, Humboldt joked, by painting "an excellent likeness of me".

Few could complain of the treatment received from Isabey's flattering brush. This famous painting of the Congress of Vienna was pleasing to all, though typical of this peace conference, the scene was purely imaginary. The group of twenty-three delegates had never met in exactly this way before. Isabey had painted the portraits of each figure individually, and then later assembled the whole group together.

And so, symbolically, this simulated image would commemorate a congress that never was.

After that spectacular depiction of historical context surrounding Isabey’s magnificent canvas by David King few things are left to be added. I would simply love to highlight some other figures of utmost importance for the diplomatic life of that illustrious historical period - there are

Karl August von Hardenberg, Prime Minister of Prussia at the time;

Herren Wacken and Friedrich von Gentz, two Secretaries who were responsible for the protocols of the most important Congress' meetings;

count Karl Vasilyevich Nesselrode, a Russian-German diplomat, who became state chancellor of the Russian Empire in 1816;

prince Andrey (Andrew) Kirillovich Razumovsky, an extremely wealthy Russian aristocrat and diplomat, for whom Vienna was like his second home;

and we shouldn’t (or rather can’t) forget about general Charles Stewart-Vane, Castlereagh’s younger brother who definitely knew how to throw an unforgettable party, so refined aristocratic society could discuss his wild adventures at their fashionable salon meetings day and night. ✨

P.S.

Perhaps, there should be more posts with other details of the lithograph as well as Isabey’s original canvas, I’ll just need some time and motivation for that. 👌

[lover-of-mine]

I’ve been thinking about colors and the wizard of oz and “friend of Dorothy” and queer Eddie arc. do you think it’s likely with all that, that we might get Eddie in blue like Dorothy? OR oh wait what if we get Buck in blue and then Eddie literally IS a “friend of Dorothy” (I will freely admit that I sent this to you because I know you’re the resident color theory person but I also have not had the time to read through your color theory posts so if this is redundant to something you’ve said I’m so sorry 😅)

Okay, so, the whole color theory thing that led to people screaming with me about the Wizard of Oz is based on my blue and yellow theories about the show. Posts on the blue and yellow here and here if you want more details but I'll try to explain what's relevant in this post.

Basically, Buck's coming out arc is blue and yellow, even more with the way they play with the sun surrounding Buck and Eddie.

But the thing is, Buck himself is dressed in blue. There are some ambiguous shades, like the kiss and the date, but they do have a blue undertone to it, so for the purpose of this exercise, I'll call them blue.

So in a sense, kinda, yeah, Buck is Dorothy in this scenario.

My thing is that since Buck is blue and Eddie kept being put on the sun to have that yellow around him, that Eddie is going to be yellow in his path, and that what brought us to the yellow brick road, someone mentioned bees and honey being yellow.

It's why I was freaking out about this.

Now let's step into the madness with me. Looking at the Oz thing a lot more metaphorically than most people have been doing, I've been seeing Buck and Eddie as each other's Kansas, the home they want to reach. But Buck was dropped into the queerness thing because his relationship with sexuality is a lot more casual, kinda like Dorothy and the whole tornado leaving her there, but Eddie has to walk a different path, so the yellow road.

With Buck being blue here and red in general, and the blue dress with the red shoes, if we want to get literal, Buck is already Dorothy. We already have the blue component, so Eddie will complement that.

Additional speculation on the way I think Eddie will be yellow and those sand tones in that sweatshirt are fueling my delusion: Buck and Eddie, they're mirrors narratively, they parallel each other at all times, Buck's discovery is dark blue, but it all culminates on the coming out scene, since Eddie is the only person we see Buck make the decision to come out to, in this brighter shade.

The thing with this shirt in particular, I mentioned it in my analysis of the coming out scene, is that the shade of blue is ridiculously close to the color of Oliver's eyes. I couldn't explain it at the time, but this gives a cohesion to the composition of the Buck closeups that's been driving me mad. This is the moment Buck's been waiting for, but Eddie is not ready yet. But basically, Buck starts with the darker colors into a color that fits him perfectly. Poetic within the queer context of it all that makes me wonder.

Because Eddie was in black during most of s7, except for specific color moments, he was dressed in black, including parallel to Buck's awakening. But sticking to the coming out scene, while the sun on the wall matches Eddie, he's contrasting that background with the mystery of black.

But since both of them were in dark colors until Buck found his shade of blue, I'm guessing they'll be in light colors until Eddie finds his shade of yellow and buddie will happen with Buck in blue and Eddie in yellow. When I say yellow, I mean anything in between that highlighted section, but since they were using the sun, I'm leaning more toward orange-toned yellows than green-toned yellows.

And considering how well the blue matches Oliver, I'm betting Eddie's yellow will be something honey-toned, but I'm not all that confident about that part lol

So basically, I think Buck will stay in neutral tones like Eddie's black for s7, the brown and grey we already saw are examples of it, I guess, while Eddie cycles through yellow-toned beiges and browns until we get a scene with Buck in blue and Eddie in something yellow.

[erensproudsimp]

Rivalry

Jean kirstein x Eren Jeager x reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary: Threesome with Eren and Jean in the middle of a party? Hell yeah.

Word count: 2.4k

"So, how do I look?" coming from the bathroom you asked your roommate about your outfit.

"YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY STUNNING Y/N!This little black dress really brings out your curves, " Hitch squealed.

"Aww Thank you bestie! When are you getting dressed?" you questioned looking for your black heels.

"I was just about to, I bet this party is going to be the best ever organized this year," Hitch excitedly said.

"Right? Heard that almost all students are going, I feel like it's going to be crazy and moreover it's organized by Jean,"you added while wearing your jewelries.

Hitch came out in a sexy red sleeveless dress which suited her perfectly.

" Oh. my. god. Marry me right now, what did I do to deserve such a pretty best friend, "you flattered her wiping fake tears from your eye.

" Says the girl who's going to take all the boys' breaths and by boys I specifically mean Eren and Jean, "she replied eyeing you from head to toe.

"Sheesh Hitch, you know that I'm not interested in them right?" you said arms crossed.

"I don't know y/n, that little blush is saying something else. So who are you going to choose among them?" Hitch teased.

"I'm pretty both of them asked me out due to their rivalry with each other but I have no interest in helping either win," you said with a sigh.

"I mean you may never know that they actually do have feelings for you, I remember seeing Jean stare at you during class," she explained wearing her makeup. Smacking her lips to spread the lipstick, she turned to look at you, "At least give one of them a chance? Like two of the hottest guys on the campus asked you out, think about it y/n," she suggested.

"They were already my best friends but maybe until tonight I'll try to make a decision but for now let's go enjoy okay?" you beamed.

"Let's go impress some bitches, have some liquor, spit on our haters and have the best night of our life," flicking your hair back you left the dorm with Hitch agreeing with you.

Parking your car, you got out to admire the grandiose building belonging to Jean in sight. Muffled music could be heard through the walls.

"Maybe I should give Jean the chance," you said.

"Haha yes girl get that bag," Hitch giggled dragging you inside.

Laughter, people making out on the dancefloor, a background scent of sweat mixed with booze, you finally saw your friends near the bar counter. Conversations stopped the second everyone noticed me and Hitch's entry.

" All eyes on me in the centre of the ring just like a circus," you sang in her ear as she smirked.

Walking proudly to radiate your confidence, both of you went to the bar, the crowd going back to their initial interaction.

"Hey guys!" you shouted throwing yourself on Sasha.

"Welo," Connie replied with a drink in his hand.

"Where are the others?" Hitch asked them.

"Mikasa, Armin and Eren haven't arrived yet and Jean is ensuring everything is in control," Ymir answered hugging Historia close to her.

Ordering a glass of wine from the bartender, you sipped said drink while chatting with your friends. Right at that moment the trio entered through the door.

" Look they came,"Historia pointed at them.

" Hello everyone, where's Jean? "Armin asked.

You looked at Eren taking in how he was looking so attractive in an all black outfit. However, he did not once glance in your direction making you assume it was because you haven't yet given him an answer.

" There he is,"Mikasa said as the man in question neared the group.

" Is everyone having fun? "Jean enquired leaning on the counter.

His stance screamed dominance but in such a subtle way it was sensual. You tried to meet his eye but he didn't acknowledge your presence too. Well, it was what you were supposing to be as in in contrary both of them were enraptured with your appearance they couldn't bring themselves to look at you.

"I'm going to the dancefloor," you announced frustrated by the lack of attention you got from the two men after finishing your third drink.

Pushing your way in, moving to the music you tried to take off your mind off having to choose someone between them. A stranger came up to you to ask if they could dance with you. With no hesitation noticing how handsome he was, you let him hold you in his arms as a distraction.

"Not gonna lie, I'm gonna be shocked if she doesn't hook up with someone tonight, like look at her man," Hitch commented hoping to push either Eren or Jean to approach you.

"Right? She honestly looks so hot," Sasha added understanding what she was trying to do.

Like they hoped, the tactic worked as both men stood up together. They looked in each other's eye as though communicating telepathically passing one message and it was to not let anyone come near to you.

Heading into the crowd to find you, Hitch and Sasha high fived leaving everyone else in the unknown.

Searching all round, they at last found you dancing with a random guy, your body all over him. There was a cold fury in their eyes and Eren pursued his lips in anger. He went up to the guy and gave him a death stare. The stranger felt his blood drain from his face into his gut as he abruptly left you.

At first you were puzzled at why the guy just disappeared until you saw Jean and Eren and understood the situation.

"Mind if I dance with you?" Eren asked holding his hand out.

"May I too?" Jean rushed in not to let Eren take the sole lead.

Taking both hands smilingly you replied, "Yes, you both may."

Jean twisted you in his arms pressing your ass against his hips as Eren held your waist in his hands your chest against his, both guys grinding on you.

Eren leaned in and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access to the area as he licked his tongue over your so sensitive skin.

Jean feeling a bit left out took a glass of wine from a passing waiter grabbed your soft flocks in his hand and pulled it slowly to not hurt you. Your head was placed on his shoulder as Eren continued to nibble on your neck.

"Open your mouth," Jean ordered you his lips brushing your ear and you obeyed without arguing.

He then poured the wine from the glass into your mouth. Moaning through the process, the liquid coursed from your throat into your stomach spreading its warmth all over. Jean still grinding on you pushed his hips forward for you to feel his growing bulge.

Rhythmically swaying your body to the beats of the music playing, you brushed your ass to Jean's bulge and hips against Eren's. Being sandwiched between them was like a dream come true.

Eren's hands slid up and down your arms, head intact on your neck. Jean was not doing any lesser either as he bent over to reach the other side of your neck, his hot breath ruffling and began showering it with kisses.

Grabbing your chin to lift it up, Eren pressed his soft lips on yours tasting the alcohol from your mouth.

"Hey- that's not fair," Jean snatched you from Eren, threw your body on his shoulder and slapped your ass to carry you away. Shortly Eren followed, "Give her back to me!"

Jean made you sit on a bed gently, kissed you lightly on your cheek then went to close the door of the room but Eren busted in right before he could.

"Oh you're not having her all to you, not until I'm still alive," Eren stated.

"Fuck you Eren, I'm not going to let you have her either you know," Jean cursed him.

At this point you didn't know what to say as anticipation filled your being so you just allowed everything happen by itself.

Before Jean could do anything, Eren rushed to you, pulled you in his arms made out with you in front of him to make him jealous which of course worked.

" Jeager!" Jean shouted approaching you both.

Eren's tongue was roaming in all corners of your mouth to explore them, a small moan leaving your throat.

Both guys froze hearing that.

"Eren, move I want to be the one to make her create those cute sounds," Jean pushed Eren to replace his mouth on you.

Jean was more passionate than Eren, probably because of the jealousy he was feeling.

"How about we hear what y/n has to say?" Eren suggested.

"Yeah y/n, make a decision, it's either Eren or me," Jean continued.

"I-, guys trust me I've been thinking about this and honestly speaking, for me it's either both of you or no one. Don't get me wrong you're both equally amazing and handsome so choosing one is just unfair. I love you both but I'm not going to choose one I'm sorry. Moreover, I don't want to fuel the rivalry between you two," looking at the floor you replied. You thought that this would make them feel disappointed but in reality it was the contrary

" Y/n..,"Jean hugged you so did Eren from the back.

" I'm glad you didn't choose to reject one of us, "Eren whispered in your ear.

" Yeah I'm so pleased too, "Jean agreed lifting your chin to kiss the bottom of your neck.

" And don't appogise y/n, you're not at fault here, we are for asking you out because of our competition so let us make up for it, "Eren's voice holding the promise of sex.

His hands unzipped your dress pealing it off you to leave you in your black lace underwear. Both Jean and Eren's face went scarlet red on seeing you in this state.

From the back Eren's big, warm hands reached out to cup your boobs while nibbling on your shoulder. In front Jean knelt down on you to kiss you on your stomach as his hands were caressing your curves.

Taking Eren's face in one hand, you stroked his face with your thumb, the other hand in Jean's hair playing with it.

"Can I?" Jean asked indicating to the removal of your undergarment.

"By all means, do whatever you wish," you gave both consent.

Seizing this opportunity Eren unhooked your bra and let it fall to the ground.

"You're so beautiful y/n," Jean gasped.

Your body chose that moment to shiver.

Not being able to control it anymore Eren lifted you in bridal style dropping you lightly on the bed. Ripping his shirt of his toned body, your eyes were locked on his abbs. Jean lost no time in taking his off too.

You were mesmerised. Those men were built like fantasies, their chest sculptured with the honed muscles of a god.

"Come here."

To your astonishment they obeyed sitting on each of your sides.

"What do you want us to do angel?" Jean asked with such adoration in his eyes.

"Tell us your deepest desires, we will make it a reality," placing his hand over your thighs Eren encouraged you.

"Use me as your plaything."

This one simple request was enough to send them off the edge.

"As you wish m'lady," Jean replied before kneeling in front of you.

More kisses along your neck by Eren while Jean split your legs to bury his face in between. You sucked in a deep breath.

Trailing his tongue on your inner thighs up to your soaked folds, Jean teased you.

Taking your mouth into a fiery kiss, sucking on your lower lip, Eren fondled your boobs. Sticking your tongue out to ask for permission he took it in without a second thought.

"Hmmm ah-," you panted on his mouth as Jean kissed your core, giving it a tender lick. Grabbing your hips to forbid you to move, he inserted his tongue in and out of you while rubbing your clit with his fingers. Pure heaven.

"You like that huh?"

You threw your head back at his words humming a yes, Eren proceeding to move from your neck to your collarbones to mark himself on your skin. A slight pain overcoming with pleasure sent chills down your spine.

"Jeaaann- ah- Ereenn," you screamed their names turning them on more.

Shortly after your stomach clenched as you came on Jean's face.

"You taste so good y/n," he said licking his lips.

"Now's my turn," Eren declared unbuckling his pants topping you.

"You okay with this right?" he asked concernedly caressing your cheek. You nodded and looked over to Jean signaling him to come over your head.

Slowly penetrating his dick into your cunt, you stifled a moan as you were helping Jean take off his trousers, his hardened member sprung free from its trap.

As Eren was thrusting his hips in you moaning your name, you were jerking Jean off with your hand, him panting loudly.

"Y/n go faster please," Jean whined.

Spreading his precum oozing from the tip, your fingers stroked it down the shaft.

"Forgive me for what im about to do y/n," the unbearable thirst pushed Jean to shove his swollen dick into your mouth. You muffled a moan at his action willingly taking it. Moving your wet muscle inside your mouth, you sucked him.

"Fuck y/n you feel so good tightly wrapped around me," Eren breathed picking up speed. Your breath stuck in your lungs, your eyes rolled back.

Two handsome men fucking you senselessly, you couldn't be in any more bliss.

"Good girl," Jean petted your hair as you swallowed every drop of him. Collapsing next to you, he was gradually grasping his breath.

On the other hand, Eren was still going pushing and pulling into you and from you.

"Go ahead, cum for me y/n."

Your legs were practically shaking as you came a second time over him. Realising he was reaching his limit, he pulled out and released his hot fluid on your belly.

Out of breath, he fell onto you as you hugged him. Ruffling Jean's hair you tried to wake him up.

"Jean we have a party remember? now wake up, you don't want people thrashing your house. You too Eren, Mikasa must be worried sick by now with your absence," you advised both only for your words to fall on deaf ears.

Sighing you stayed still to enjoy their warmth a little more.

Just a little more.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

[yoondoze]

coin toss | jjk

you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

word count: 25.4k

genre: soft and hard angst, mafia/detective agency au, complicated exes (?)

warnings: language, violence, blood, character death, sexual implications, little bit of gore, jimin has a weird hatred of yoongi idk don’t take it seriously, mentions of torture, grief, too many italics

a/n: long time no see everyone, hope you’re doing well! this story was inspired by my favorite anime, bungou stray dogs (it’s got a soukoku type beat & you’ll recognize some structures). it’s my first back in a while, and it’s also the longest piece i’ve written, so i hope you all enjoy it! <3

To be called to the Boss’s office for a quick word is almost always a sealed exit ticket from this world. One, because regular meetings of necessity are always held in the boardroom and discussed amongst the executives. Two, one on one meetings mean no witnesses. You’ve been there once before and barely made it out alive. To make it out a second time? The chances are practically nonexistent. 

The room feels less like an office and more like an 18th-century study, a dark academia dream with the coffee-toned furniture and ceiling-high shelves stacked with books. The only sign of modernity is the pristine silver laptop sitting perfectly on his desk. The guards to the side of the room look straight ahead, no indication of how this will end for you.

“My dear, good to see you,” The Boss purrs, eyelids falling into tender crescents as you place yourself gently on the cushion of his ornate bergère. Typically there are two of a kind that sit across from his dark oak bureau, but at this moment one has been removed from the space so yours could be positioned parallel to his own chair. 

The Boss has an intimidating air about him. From the gentle yet feline-like movements that look like they mask something sinister, to his signature verbosity that’s almost professorial, he’s the perfect paradigm of a godfather.

“And you, Boss. It’s been a while.” You maintain a cool tone, not breaking his eye contact. He was a dog that could smell fear and would drag it out of you if he thought it could sate his twisted desire for control.

He sighs as his cheshire smile fades. “I don’t like beating around the bush, as I’m sure you know. You... must have heard the rumors of a third party organization stepping foot in this city, yes?”

The whispers started only days ago, and the most you heard was only an assumption from another underling at the bar. Considering how much people loved to gossip and how boring it got around here, you were just going to brush it off. However, if it was enough to bring you here, it had to be something worth your attention.

“Yes, it’s been floating around.” You clear your throat. “Is it something to be worried about?”

He puts his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together, sucking a breath through his teeth. “This has happened before, when a new group tries to disrupt our hold on the functioning of our territory, and we have always squashed them from the picture quietly. But unfortunately, those who call themselves the Syndicate play dirty.”

It seems as if things were not heading in the track you imagined when being escorted on the long walk here. But then he orders the guards at the sides of the room out, and your heart jumps to your throat.

As the large doors close behind them, he resumes talking.

“Last week, twenty-two of our men were killed and one taken during a weapons exchange with a western group...who we thought were a western group. All they left behind was a handful of playing cards.” His wrist flicks up suddenly, a black card tucked between his two fingers. The shine on the back glints under the dim lamplight. He stares in disdain.

The nervous habit of jumbling your fingers started up in your lap, asking, “Who was it?”

“Underlings of the Syndicate,” he brushes past, holding up a single finger before continuing, “The key is that the missing one was a trusted man in our central intelligence unit. He was carrying knowledge of our expansion plans within the next year. When backup came, he was gone. Intelligence then reported that the Syndicate was also responsible for the crisis of our allies in the Midwest, Fox Lodge, two years ago. And a year before, the Federacy in Europe. They crumbled in a matter of weeks.”

The man sweeps his dark hair from his forehead, an undetectable motive flaring in his eyes, the one person you could never read. 

“Simply,” he shrugs, “this fish is too big to fry on our own.”

You couldn’t help but swallow. “And that means…?”

“I’ve spoken to the director of the Detective Agency. A temporary ceasefire has been agreed upon... Similar interests, a common enemy, you see.”

Existed an extensive list of things that did not have the capacity to surprise you anymore in this life. But a ceasefire? That was impossible; The Detective Agency and the Mafia had always been at odds like a fated grudge of the gods above. The fighting had been continuous for all your time spent in the organization.

“I know,” he nods, “It is a miraculous thought. But they have the resources and we have the manpower. While it would be great to let Syndicate take them out for us, we would ultimately be next on their list. Cooperation is our best bet.”

And the thought of what this conversation may be coming to strikes you like lightning on waiting sand. “I thought you didn’t approve of betting, Boss.”

“Hmm… I see you’ve caught on,” he says pensively, a smile rising on his face as fast as it disappears. “This gamble is one I have much faith in. It used to be our ace in the hole, you remember?”

Weakly, you mumble, “I do.”

“You must realize that our situation is grave. I would not suggest it if there was another way. In the kindest manner I can put it, dear, your willing partnership is required.”

And there’s the kicker, the whole reason why. A sick feeling seethes in the pit of your stomach, makes you want to gag or throw up or pass out. You have a choice, of course, but not a real choice. To clarify, it was agree, or be squashed out quietly, as Boss liked to say. On the off chance you would choose death over discomfort, he had to call you to his office for safe measure. 

“I understand, Boss,” is all you could manage. 

“I’m glad,” he smiles. “Though we have all turned a bit sour since Jeon’s departure, I’m sure you are capable of uniting for the sake of our city. I wouldn’t mind if you killed him after the mission is complete, either, but I will leave that up to your judgment.”

The name is awkward coming off his tongue, even with the chuckle he throws in to lighten the mood, implying an air of distance and estrangement. 

Jeon. That bastard. The thought of working with him… incredible. It was silly of you to think that you’d never see him again while fighting for control of the same city, but there you were, awestruck and in embarrassing shock. “Thank you, Boss. I’ll do what is needed.”

“Get some rest. I’ll be calling a meeting tomorrow with the other executives and we will talk about the plan. You are excused.”

With an obedient nod, you are lifting yourself from the chair and heading toward the door, the sound of your heels muted on his burgundy carpet.

“Oh, and dear?”

You pause, turning your head over your shoulder and clearing your throat. “Yes?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he traces his thumb along the blade of his knife, glinting in the dim glow of the moonlit window. “You know I trust you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Without a falter in his expression, he makes a swift movement with his wrist. Before you can blink, the blade flies past your ear and lodges itself in the door in front of you. “Don’t make me regret it.”

A threat not to be taken lightly.

“Of course.”

As you tread down the hallway on your way out, you can't help but chastise yourself. How dumb could you be? Of course he would try to intimidate you like that. Any other day, you could have sensed it and caught it before it even parted with his palm. That was how it was supposed to be, as the renowned Scorpion, right? Was the thought of Jeon and having to see him again so debilitating that you let your guard flounder like that? Pathetic.

Hopefully he’d only take it as a slip-up. Take it as a respectful allowance and understanding as opposed to weakness. If you were losing your skills, your value was lost, as was your privilege to live.

The ride back to your apartment is the worst you had in years. Even the radio station you listen to regularly for mind-numbing background noise has you wanting to burst. The traffic lights make you want to scream, the sound of the air pushing past the open window has you bubbling with fury, the blinking advertisements circulating building perimeters driving your mind blank. Somewhere in a moment of clarity, you know it all starts with fear. 

Truth was, you and Jeon were partners once. In crime, the trump card the Mafia put down to play dirty, no way to get around you. In tandem, a menacing duo, the bold and the lethal, the Lion and the Scorpion. In the sheets, from time to time, after a few too many drinks or a few too many flirty looks on a sober night. Two sides of the same coin. But that was then, in a different time and a different world, and in a way that you hated how your mind had retained him so perfectly in his bitter absence.

☆☆☆

To be honest, the atmosphere of the first meeting really couldn’t have been any better than expected. It’s the furthest thing from civil, of course, but it can be considered a blessing that everyone participating was still breathing.

For protective purposes, office space had been rented out for a few hours for the intents of the meeting. There were only eight of you gathered in the small space; From the Mafia, the four top executives and from the Agency, the VP and three head advisors. One of them, none other than Jeon himself. The president and the boss stayed out for this meeting in an attempt to lower the tension, which was certainly an effort taken. Personal affairs mixing in would have resulted in at least one dead body within the first thirty seconds.

While there is some sort of discussion occurring around you, you are only focusing on how pathetic you feel in that you’re actively avoiding Jeon, as well as the discomfort in the pit of your stomach that appeared as soon as he did. You always thought that you’d be strong and bold the next time you met, but now that the time has come, you’ve let yourself down. Seeing him face to face after all this time is a reminder of everything you’ve been pushing to the back of your mind for years.

Meanwhile, Jeongguk isn’t sure what the playing field looks like just yet. He’s resting his head on his fist, sneaking a glance at you when he can and wishing you’d speak up so he’d have a good reason to look at you for longer than a blink, but you’re awfully quiet. He hates to think it might be because of him.

“We received an anonymous tip this morning about an underground base in the Coral District. Supposedly, there are multiple entrances from bars in the surrounding area, creating a tunnel system.” Namjoon, the VP, pushes his glasses up and closes the manila folder in his hands he had been referencing. “As our only lead, I think it is in our best interest to take a look.”

Namjoon is by far the most uptight man you had ever met. A little pretentious, of course, but in a way that almost made him cute. His calculative nature made him a good asset, but you couldn’t imagine how much of a bore he must have been in his daily life. You could bet without a doubt that he had been the most opposed to collaboration - if not by the countless moments he had spent sighing in your past encounters, then surely by how his condescending tone went into overdrive the second he sat down.

Yoongi, one of your fellow executives, states plainly, “That means nothing.” He seems more focused in the dirt tucked beneath his fingernails than the meeting at hand.

“It’s anonymous. For all we know they’re trying to trick us,” adds Yeji, personality plagued with suspicion. She doesn’t want to be here as much as you do, but she’s trying. Yeji is scrutinizing and not impressed by the image of naivety that stems from such a simple deduction, and that’s on top of her personal problem with the righteous narrative of the detective agency. You don’t blame her.

“And for all we know, it could be useful. The people of this city are our eyes and ears.” Jimin shoots back, stare unwavering. “It’s not like we should just ignore it. Do you have anything better?”

The strain in the air is almost unbearable, pulling up the hairs on your arms with all the tense energy circulating. It’s as if lightning was about to strike any second. No one says another word, only dirty looks being exchanged between headstrong personalities until a defiant knock comes to the door, startling the aggression into temporary submission. Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you, the only movement he had made this entire time. You only shrug at him.

“Who is it?” Namjoon asks, standing from the table.

“Just clean up. I’m here to take out the trash.” Silence engulfs the space like a dense fog hanging in the air, until the man behind the door calls again, “It’ll only be a second.”

Hesitantly, Namjoon makes the call for him to come in. All eyes flick over to the man, who cautiously enters the room with a nervous laugh. He is clueless to what he’s walking into. He waves a hand of greeting before fetching the bin from the corner of the room, taking it to the main dump on wheels in the hallway. After a few shuffles and plunks, he comes back in to put it in its place.

Namjoon adjusts his tie and clears his throat as he sits down again, resuming the meeting.

“I don’t care what we do as long as we can be done with this,” Taehyung mumbles, resting his head on his palm with half-mast eyes. He’s practically falling asleep, like a cat resting in the sunbeams pouring through a window.

Wendy, another advisor, rolls her eyes at him, responding with a scoff, “Of course you don’t care…”

“Oh, like you’re such a saint.”

The boardroom erupts into yet another argument, different groups spitting words at their own personal targets. All you can do is sit and listen, your hope for this mission decreasing exponentially as the seconds tick by. At least if it didn’t work out, you won’t have to see Jeon again after this.

“Creep,” mutters Yeji under her breath from the chair next to you. She had been removing herself from the argument like you save for a few special dramatic sighs and trivial insults that you didn’t condone, but didn’t exactly scold her for either. After all, she is the closest thing you have to a best friend.

“Huh?” you inquire wisely. “Who?”

She tilts her head to the hallway. Your head whips around to see the janitor through the walls of windows walking away with a peculiar bounce in his step, one he most certainly did not arrive with.

“What’s his problem?” you whisper, leaning in.

“I don’t know, but he was laughing to himself while they were arguing. He’s probably just another weirdo,” she snubs with a sigh. “You know how people are in this city.”

Though you had a slight feeling of discomfort from the commencement of the meeting, since stepping foot in the lobby of the building even, you simply brushed it off as paranoia, or nervousness from who you were about to see. But it just seems too strange to ignore anymore. Wasn’t the building supposed to be completely empty today, aside from those in the conference taking place right now? Your instincts scream at you through a closed mouth, wariness freezing your limbs, but why?

You hold your hand up discreetly as you stare at the simply dark grey bin across the room. It’s the only thing that seemed out of place - besides the meeting table and chairs, the room is completely empty. The pristine board room, black and grey and sparkling clean. And then, the cheap plastic bin.

The argument settles when Yeji whistles, getting their attention. 

“What’s wrong?” Wendy asks obliviously before you shush her with a raise of your pointer. All focus zeroes in on the bin… and that barely noticeable line trailing from it to the door handle.

One tick is all you need to hear.

“We gotta go, now,” you state, standing up hurriedly from your chair. Chatter and confusion ensue again as you drag it behind you over to the floor-length window. You pause, narrowing your eyes at the distance down from the second story. Considering there were no other exits from the room and you suspected that no one here was a part of the bomb squad, it was the only way to go. You drawback, hands gripping tightly around the armrests and hoist it up, swinging it around your side. it effectively shatters the glass, the piercing noise as shards clatter to the floor making you squint. 

“Woah, woah, what are you doing? Do you know how much that’s gonna coast?” Namjoon shouts, becoming frantic as you further knock the glass out from the surrounding area.

“They knew where we were. Look at the bin,” you explain quickly. Their surveillance of you averts to where you had been looking moments before, realization dawning as their sight finds the transparent cord set tight.

“Taehyung, you first.” The boy trails to the make-shift exit without question, blond locks bouncing in front of his face as he hurries over. Carefully, with a hand on the frame, he peers out to see what he’s working with. He’s made do with worse before. He lowers himself out onto the ledge one foot at a time, cautious not to cut himself on the jagged glass poking out. With a deep breath, he commits to the jump and launches off, landing cleanly on the flower beds below.

He cranes his neck up to you with disgust written all over his features.

“It’s new still,” he complains with a frown, toeing the dark mulch which must be fresh and with a rotten stench. You don’t have the time to admonish his behavior as you usher the others out, keeping an eye on the bin and the hallway. Yeji is out next, hitting the ground lightly with Taehyung’s guiding arms.

You fish a compact walkie from your pocket, tossing it down to her. “Find the janitor. Evacuate anyone else you see. Channel Six.” She catches it with ease, only providing a nod before sprinting off around the corner, ponytail whooshing behind her. Namjoon, now on the ground with Jimin, spares a word with him before Jimin takes off after Yeji to catch up. 

“You run a well-oiled machine, Y/N. I’m impressed.” Jeon’s voice from beside you grabs your attention, to which you can only hold his eyes for a moment before breaking it off. He stands smugly with his arms crossed in front of him.

He immediately cringes internally at the way it comes out. It was just supposed to be a compliment, genuinely, but the tinge of complacency in his voice took it all away. The way you don’t respond clamps his heart, but only pushes out more awful dialogue with an inappropriately playful tone.

“What, you’re just gonna ignore me?

Swallowing your nerves, you insist, “Get down.” Now, of all times, he chooses to chat you up? The chipper attitude had your nails imprinting half-moons to the base of your palm.

But he can’t stop himself. Even as he reads your growing impatience, he acts like a whiny toddler, emphasizing, “No, no, ladies first of course.”

“Get down.”

He’s trying not to let your firm edge get to him, playing it off with, “God, so cold. You’re hurting my feelings-” “Get down, Jeongguk!”

The once fluid movement of the world slows as you shout at him, your own voice becoming muted as you listen for it. A blinding light bursts from across the room, ripping through the walls and bursting the glass like balloons, growing brighter and brighter as you watch. In a split second you’re falling, tearing through open air while barely sensing your entanglement in something soft before hitting the ground with a blunt stop.

He had pulled you into him instinctively as the blow forced him off his feet, but the regret is instant in Jeon’s mind as he struggles to move. Not for grabbing you, but for the stupid words he couldn’t close the dam on as they poured out. The threat completely left his mind in the effort to get you to respond to him. He wants to smack himself, but his body hasn’t had the chance to recoup yet. 

You groan, body practically frozen in ache. Rolling off of him, you rub your lids and scratch the hair out of your face, looking up to see smoke pouring out of where you just stood moments before. Jumping to your feet, you brush the small shards of glass from your clothes and ignore the dizziness, aiming to put as much distance between the building and you as you could, but not before pulling a disoriented Jeon to his feet to take him with you. He’s coughing and clutching at his rib, your weight hitting him as an extra beating once he had landed.

Collapsing on the curb out front, you try to catch your breath. That bastard. If it weren’t for his necessity to uphold such a jackass mentality, you wouldn’t have needed the extra painful push out of the building. Without even needing to look, the sound echoing alone let you know that the building was collapsing in on itself. While you can’t feel it now because of the adrenaline, you know you’ll be hurting later.

A muffled noise comes from the walkie in your back pocket. It’s Yeji, who is suspiciously breathing fine as her heavy footfalls transmit as loud as her voice, reporting, “Finally caught up to him. It looks like he’s heading to Coral District, we’re on his tail but we don’t know what we’re going into!”

The device jumbles in your shaky hand as you scramble to get back to her. “We’re on our way, don’t worry. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” 

You bring yourself to your feet, your fleeting moment of recovery already gone.

“Namjoon, can you stay behind for cleanup? Rest of us will catch up to Yeji. You heard her, right?”

He nods solemnly, and you suppose the blast to the building also was one to his ego. His notorious calculative nature had failed him this time around with that poisonous hatred in the way. Maybe he’ll reference it next time.

You think that Jeon is going to come up with another snarky comment to make, but all he does is pinch his nose bridge and massage his temples. He chooses to stay behind also as you, Wendy, Taehyung, and Yoongi follow in quick pursuit. It’s no surprise that Yoongi, one of the most sloth-like yet efficient strong suits of the Mafia, is already pulling over a civilian vehicle to take. 

“Yeji, current location?” You ask into the radio, trying to keep up an acceptable trot behind the group.

It only takes a second for her voice to crackle back through. “Corner of Park Ave and Third. It’s weird though - he’s not just running away from us, he’s running to somewhere.”

Up ahead, Wendy is pushing Yoongi aside as she shows her ID to the astonished woman floundering for words, admirably commandeering the car rather than stealing. No surprise, but smart nonetheless. One less lawsuit to worry about.

It only takes a second to envision a mental map of the city. The Corner of Park and Third is heading toward an unfamiliar side of town. What was even over there? The subway station, a shopping center? No place plausible for a bar, and definitely not near the Coral district. There was no place you could think of he might be leading them to - unless, of course, he was leading them away from something.

In fact, his direction is almost exactly opposite from…

“Tae!” you shout, just as he’s getting into the car. “Corner of Park Ave and Third. Get on your walkie, I’m taking a detour!”

He tips his head back in understanding as he jogs backwards to the car, soon ducking in slamming the door shut behind him, the car speeding off with a squeal. The thought of being in that car with them makes you shudder, but it’s not like where you’re off to is any better.

The location is printed on the backs of your lids in vermilion red ink. You had to know it regardless of whether you were a frequent visitor or not, because being aware of your surroundings when doing the kind of work required for your job was just as necessary as the job itself. You couldn’t be making arms deals in the alleys behind the Detective Agency unless you were aiming to spend some time behind bars.

Your heart drops as you round the corner to see the building absolutely sacked, your sprinting pace coming to a standstill with disappointment. A small crowd of people have surrounded the area, phones out to snap pictures and take videos. The windows lining the building are smashed in violently, and small plumes of smoke wisp their way out of what remains, the alarms that alerted no one still ringing. 

Light footsteps approach from behind you as your own step carefully over the glass to get a closer look. He’d been in his head for only a few minutes after you left, but when he saw you crossing back over to the other side of town, while he was stuck pathetically on the curb, it sparked his brain back up into working condition.

“Huh. Smart cookie,” states Jeon, seeming to finally be back to reality. Enough to make it here, anyway. In less than a second your blade is against his neck as a firm warning. All he does is smile cheekily, raising his palms up so you could see them.

“No need to be hostile,” he tries, hiding the way he gulps when you look away. “Just a compliment.”

“We are nothing more than work partners. I advise you to drop the act now,” you spit, sure you’d break your jaw with how hard your teeth were pressed against each other, hearing the sandpaper sound grinding in your ears. You lower the blade and tuck it away, exchanging it for your gun in hand as you approach the entrance.

It’s a mess inside. The walls are dented, desks broken, drawers and filing cabinets sprawled all over the floor. Random papers make a muddle of everything visible. The computer screens are cracked and wires mangled as if someone with a bad temper had taken a baseball bat to them. Even the potted plants had been bashed in, fragments of terracotta and clumps of dirt spread out everywhere. 

“Was anyone working?” you ask, fingers tracing over the splintered edges of the welcome desk.

“No,” replies Jeon, in awe of the state of the office. “The President doesn’t come in, and two of our teams are off carrying out other tasks. We sent our office staff home to keep them out of danger.”

Not one thing untouched. Such great care was taken to ruin every piece of the space - but when no one was home. If the office staff were here, would they have hurt them? Or was it a purposeful decision in favor of the empty building?

Jeon’s shoulders slump, bottom lip jutting from his pout. Upon your questioning brow, he says, “They took my octopus pen.” He stares longingly down at what you assume is his desk, or what was his desk.

You squint in confusion, about to prompt further explanation, but Taehyung comes in through the radio. “We caught the janitor. Don’t know anything yet, but he’s being taken into police custody. We looked for the tunnels, but there’s nothing so far. I think it was a misdirect.”

“I think it was too,” you sigh. “The DA was ransacked.”

The waves flatten into grey static. You can picture the confusion that was rising among the group with Tae’s relay of information. When it comes back on, it is a different voice.

“Ransacked, you said? How bad?” It’s Wendy, the panic blatant on her tongue.

“Everything in it was destroyed…” you say, knowing this was just as much a loss for you as it was them. “They knew where we were and bombed us, and then led us on a chase so they could eliminate one of our bases. Let the others know and we’ll regroup later.”

“Copy that,” says Yoongi shortly, and that ends the exchange.

One of your strongest pieces was impressively knocked off the board. There was no way to get the building back in operating shape in the time span you had to eliminate the threat. While you still had their people and outside resources, the building was essential to the functioning of the agency, and the city along with it. If they had already taken down the home base of the detectives, wouldn’t the Mafia be next? Granted, there was no one set base, but things would surely get fishy if you didn’t act fast. Like Boss said, Fox Lodge crumbled in mere weeks. Whatever your opinion was, you couldn’t deny the Mafia was integral in monitoring the underground of the city, and letting control fall into the hands of such self-serving villains would be far worse than anything already occurring. 

Jeon sighs loudly from across the room, spinning on his heels to catch your gaze. He tsks and sweeps a stray strand of hair behind his ear with a delicate hand. “What are you thinking?”

You hum in thought. “It’s a warning,” you conclude, observing the rows of overthrown furniture. “They wanted to show what they’re capable of. Intimidation.”

He purses his lips innocently. “...What next?”

“I don’t know everything, Gguk,” you snap, sending him a fierce glare. “The Agency has to figure out what’s missing, if anything, and then we’ll go from there. Try to figure out a motive or something.”

You’ve been asking for a challenge for years, always unsatisfied with the ease it took to get your way. Laying in bed wide awake all night wanting things to be different, wanting things to have meaning. But with the high stakes, with so much at risk, this was certainly not what you intended.

You have to reassure yourself that you’re capable regardless. Once you get in the rhythm, surely things will be fine. Surely you’d get yourself together and pull through for the sake of the town. When you’ve been biting your nails and staring blankly at a ripped magazine for who knows how long, Jeon interrupts you again.

“Y/N?” The way he speaks your name is gentle and soft, a fondness to it that never failed to pluck at your heartstrings. It’s that special quiet tone of his that you haven’t heard in so long yet could always recall so clearly. It’s a sign of candor coming your way. “It’s good to see you.”

And it boils your blood.

“The park by the marina. Tomorrow at five. Don’t be late.”

☆☆☆

Penny has already started making dinner when you step through the door, just about to slump against the hardwood floor and resign yourself to the eternal slumber. Though she’s only ten, her palate is more tasteful that yours was last year. In times like these, you are grateful for the way she takes care of you sometimes. 

“You look tired,” she observes, sparing you a welcome look over her shoulder as she stirs the contents of her pot.

“That would be because I am,” you breathe a huff of laughter, slowly and carefully sliding off your jacket as to not irritate your sore muscles more than necessary. Taking a peek into the pot, your brain allows you a taste of serotonin that you welcome with open, starved arms. “Fettuccine alfredo? Pen, that’s my favorite.”

A small smirk appears on her face at your amazement. “I know.”

You plant a chaste kiss at the top of her head. “You need a trim soon, kiddo. Can barely see your eyes anymore.”

“That makes me look more mysterious though, doesn’t it?” She allows herself a giggle before turning off the heat, giving the pasta one last mix before transferring it to the two identical bowls on the counter. Her technique is a little awkward as her arms reach up to maneuver the tongs, but that’s to be expected of a kid who hasn’t fine tuned her motor skills just yet. Your mouth is absolutely watering as you fumble through the draws for two forks and some sort of napkin.

She hops up on the stool next to you and digs in, splattering sauce all over her chin nonetheless, but as long as she was fed and having fun.

Taking Penny in was by far the best decision you had made with what your life had come to. It was about two years ago when you stumbled upon her crying in a back alleyway during a job, her parents' lives the casualties suffered in a drug trade gone wrong. Further than that, you didn’t pry. You had those moments, too, the ones that felt better tucked inside a secret place in your heart.

Your only option was to take her with you. While he was incredibly beneficial to the Mafia, Yoongi was also hopelessly cold-blooded. He wanted to kill her to end the trail, to avoid suspicion directed at the organization. You ultimately made the call, because while what you did for a living was in no way guided by a moral compass, you still had your boundaries. Fortunately, it was just when you had gotten your current executive position and started making your fair share for the work you did - and while the both of you knew what went on outside of the apartment, inside was a safer space with more love than you could ever afford to show anywhere else. 

Housing people was one of the organization’s biggest costs. Most who joined did so out of necessity, whether they were out of work or a place to feel welcome. As long as you took care of her, it was an unspoken rule that they’d go easy on her. Occasionally they made her run errands and do deliveries, as children were an easy way to escape qualms from authorities. More often they used her for bait and leverage over those they needed the upper hand on; There’s no better way to manipulate someone than pretending a little girl’s life depends on their next decision. Usually it worked out the way they wanted and she was sent home, but there were times when you noticed bruises or scrapes adorning her thin arms, or hidden beneath her bangs. At least you could provide her with hope.

“So what went wrong today?”

Were you too obvious, or could she just read you inside and out?

You twirl the pasta on your fork before downing a big bite. 

“Got stuck in a pickle for the first time in a while. There’s a lot more on the table than I expected there to be.”

“Obviously,” she says, still shoveling her food down her throat. “I mean what happened?”

You sigh, letting yourself sink into your chair as you recount the order of events that unfolded today. Trying to simplify it as best as you can, you settle on, “I can’t say too much because I don’t want to get you in trouble, but it’s not just the Mafia and the Agency running things around here anymore, so there’s some collaboration going on right now that is getting tough to manage. And these new people moving in on the city… they’re smart. They led us on a goose chase today while they took out the DA.”

“Well, you’re smart too. You can manage it. You always do.”

“I know I’ll have to. It’s more the teamwork thing.” Mindless fingers tap at the countertop. “It was a little bit of a curveball they threw at me.”

“Is the curveball what caused all the bruises?” She looks at you slyly, a teasing simper just begging to make an appearance.

Your eyes roll breezily. “Yeah, it is.”

And all of a sudden the air turns quiet, her demeanor more timid. She looks to you for encouragement before she can even get the words out. With a small prompting nod, she asks, “Is… is it your old partner?”

An awkward chuckle bubbles its way out of your throat in surprise. “Um, yeah. How- how do you know about that?”

It’s a little bit of a shock. You don’t want to make her feel bad, but having this conversation is not one you are completely prepared for. Jeongguk, though his existence in your mind is stormy, is one of those things you always wish you could just keep to yourself, like a small love letter sealed in an envelope and tucked away under a mattress for you to pull out when you want to reminisce, but unfortunately everyone has read that letter and its contents seems to perpetuate underground gossip wherever you walk.

The atmosphere returns to normal when she shoots you a playful look, correcting it to the way it should have been. “I don’t just go to work and come back, you know, people talk to me. Especially some of the other kids my age. They sometimes mention how it’s so cool that I’m living with this legendary assassin, and they tell me supposed stories of… what was it, the Lion and the Scorpion? Yeah, and that he left.”

You bob your head along as she explains, somewhat in awe of her level of awareness of who you were outside of your relationship with her. The observant and lethal disposition you take on at work is a rude juxtaposition to the looser, lively personality you allow out at home. Above all, you wonder if she still thinks you’re cool.

“And what do you say?”

That she laughs at. “Well, it depends on the person who’s talking to me about it. Sometimes I say that you’re really scary and strict and sometimes if I like them I say that you’re really nice… I’m careful about it though, don’t worry. As long as you’re cool, I’m cool.”

Bingo!

“Hey, I trust your judgment,” you state through a mouthful of food, “I condone messing with people sometimes, and if it can harden my reputation around the place, I’ll take it.”

Lighthearted laughter ensues as you eat. The topic fades away and relief starts to take its place, but nothing good can ever last, can it?

“But Y/N…” she trails back, “Why is the Lion a curveball if you worked with him in the past?”

You click your tongue, tapping your fork at the bottom of your dish trying to stitch together the splinters of words floating around your mind into a cohesive answer.

“I’m sure some kids told you about the rumors,” you say, propping your elbow on the table to support your head as you looked at her. “But he and I… weren’t really just work partners.”

“You were dating?” She exclaims loudly, eyes widening. 

“Shh! No, no… well, kind of. But not really. Things were just a little bit more than work-related, that’s all. Listen, it’s not all black and white, and you’ll understand what I mean by when you start to care for people like that.”

“Well did you love him?”

She says it casually and straightforward, as if it didn’t weigh the emotional turmoil of years spent heartbroken and yearning. As if it’s that easy.

Penny’s expression floods full of curiosity. She is so investigative and eager, you wish she could be going to school and learning from real teachers that could give her a real education, not just snippets from your memories that you pulled up for her from time to time. If this wasn’t her life, you can’t imagine what she’d be doing because there’d simply be too many possibilities.

“Yeah, I did.”

And yet, as the words spill, you can’t not remember the pain of his desertion. You can’t not remember the one morning you woke up and he was gone, panic floating through the hallways about him, confusion and worry swirling in your head. Just to find out he had defected without giving you a clue. Not considering what it could mean for you. Not even a goodbye. 

“Do you still love him?”

You purse your lips, meeting her eyes softly. “That’s why I called him a curveball.”

Penny grasps on to the fact that that was the most she’d be getting from you today. It was a lot more than most days - you blame it on your tattered spirit from today’s tiring occurrences. She leads in the kitchen clean up, scooping the leftovers into tupperware for tomorrow’s meal and tossing her dishes in the outdated washer.

You pass behind her in the tight space, carrying your own empty dish with you. “You don’t repeat a word, got it?” you whisper.

She visibly sinks in vexation, head coming to a tilt as she stares at you. “C’mon, you just said you trusted my judgment! I’m almost insulted you feel the need to say that.”

You let yourself indulge in another laugh. The credit of her sharp vocabulary character no doubt belongs to your influence. “You know I have to.” Nuzzling the top of her hair, you add, “Don’t stay up too late. I love you.”

And for leading a life that was so cruel and devoid of light, crowded with guilt and regret, lacking most that makes you human, nothing ever felt more like home than when she says, “I love you too.”

☆☆☆

The next meeting is only better because of the fresh air separating both sides and the imminent fact that last time’s events have everyone so weary they can no longer think about arguing. It has started to sink in that this is no longer a piece of cake, or maybe that it never was to begin with. As well, a park full of citizens going on walks and taking their day slow is no place to expose yourself. It’s warm for spring, one of the nicest days you’ve had in a while, and you’d hate to ruin it.

There is a large circular expanse of white concrete with different pathways branching off into the park, green shrubbery lining each walkway. Pillars on both sides of each one hold up an awning providing much-appreciated shade. You no longer have to squint and can see everyone clearly.

Namjoon, sulking on a decorative cement bench, kicks off the meeting with a depressing statement on the Agency. “They didn’t take anything physical, but we traced their footsteps back through our computers. It looks like they downloaded a lot of our reports from the past few years and files on both our members and yours.”

“What do you mean?” Yeji’s eyebrows furrow deeply in confusion. “What kind of information was in the reports?”

“A lot of profiles. Skills, incidents you’ve been involved with, current standing position… things like that. On nearly every important person in the Agency and in the Mafia.”

“Why though?” asks Jimin, leaning back against one of the pillars beside Namjoon. “Can’t they find that information anywhere? A lot of it isn’t a secret. Ask anyone around here and they’ll tell you Min Yoongi is a lazy bastard that-” Jeon gives him a light punch on the shoulder, his disappointed grimace almost saying, “c’mon, man.” Yoongi looks like he couldn’t care less.

Taehyung, who has been pacing the narrow concrete walkways, speaks up. “Get to know your enemy better, I guess? Can’t hurt.”

“To be honest, I don’t think they really needed it either. It looked more like it was meant to be taken as a threat. They probably just did that because they could and they had the time,” You say, recalling the attentive wreckage of the Agency.

“Well, I don’t know about that. We know that they’re tricky, obviously, but they can’t know everything. I think they were also trying to get a better idea of what they were up against. Plus, it’s always intimidating when you come into contact with someone and it seems they know every detail about you when you don’t even know your name.”

Namjoon’s take makes sense. His frustrating attitude is an easier pill to swallow if he’s able to make conclusions like that. Not much could scare you off, but if a random person approached you in a fight and began talking about your past, or your personal life, or mistake you’d made, you’d definitely be unsettled, maybe just enough to slip up. With this group, you’re sure that a slip up is all it takes.

Wendy looks like she has something to add, but there’s a frog stuck in her voice box. She gives a shy look to Namjoon and then continues, something perhaps he was planning on leaving out. “To be specific, there were multiple traces of the words “Lion” and “Scorpion” in the information they stole... It makes me think they’ve heard of your, um, past reputation and wanted to see what they could dig up.”

“Oh, great.” You’re unable to help yourself from rolling your eyes. 

“Wow,” Jeon muses, “Didn’t know we were so famous.” His playful regard meets your own, but you’re too down to react with anything else but a blank stare before flicking your eyes away as soon as they meet.

He looks good today. You hate how much your brain keeps begging you to take another experimental glance as if one wasn’t enough. His button-up drapes gently over his shoulders and is tucked loosely into his trousers, sleeves folded all the way up to his elbows. Not that you’re paying such close attention.

Namjoon clears his throat. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I didn’t want to alarm you without any pretense, but…”

You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your front. “Well, I’m glad she spoke up. What if they target us because they think we’re a threat? They already know we’ve been working together.”

Wendy offers a small smile of appreciation, but it is not to ignore how the agents all share looks of hesitation toward each other, visibly uncomfortable with Namjoon’s secrecy.

“Yeah… that seemed kind of important,” Yoongi says, squinting into the sunlight as he tilts his head up. “You can’t keep things from us if we’re working together. I hate this just as much as you do, but we aren’t gonna win if we aren’t honest.”

Jimin sighs. “He’s right. If one side tries to get an upper hand it’ll just cause a rift that makes us easier to pull apart.”

“Okay. That’s fair. I... apologize.” Namjoon is stiff, refusing to look anyone in the eye. He wants to avoid further questioning, but for the time being, you won’t press it. There’s enough on your plate right now.

“Anyway… what’s our next move?”

Yeji’s question goes unanswered. It sits under the afternoon light, the peaceful chirps of birds and casual chatter and boat horns filling in the blank space that no one knows what to do with.

“We don’t have a lot to go off of. The investigation is still looking for identification factors, but it could take time, which, as I’m sure you know, we don’t have a lot of. The most we can do is conduct some interviews with witnesses and passersby, but…” the Vice President looks up at you, “we are counting on them slipping up somehow.”

The dejection in the air is hard to ignore. Everyone feels it. Regardless of how impossible it might be for the two sides to see eye to eye, they can see how hopeless the fight has gotten in a span of mere days.

With the DA out of the picture, all of their employees are either working from home or in last-minute rented offices with limited resources. Never in a million years did any of the executives think they’d see the building that represented their struggle go up in flames. Yet the day it did, they couldn’t be happy about it. It only struck fear.

“So there’s really nothing we can do?”

No one needs to answer for you to know.

“Okay. Let’s wrap this up then. Just be careful from here on out. You know, be cautious of what you say, where you say it. They might be monitoring radio waves, might have bugged places you think are safe.”

 In times like these, you have good reason to be a little paranoid. They already knew where your office space was and the time it had been rented. The Syndicate was skilled and definitely had their reach online, and you didn’t doubt it extended to the personal world. There’s nothing money can’t bribe.

It’s disheartening to see how downcast the group is on a day so bright. Everyone begins to mobilize, though slowly, but they get a move on, going back to wherever they need to be or where they want to be. For now, you decide you want to be here.

Waving goodbye to Yeji and the others, you find a nice spot under some shade on a well maintained wooden bench. It faces the water, today clear and calm, and out in the distance is the gleaming modern drawbridge that closes off the port. To the right, the port terminal stretches out long into the river for the large ships that come in, the marina docked with boats of all shapes and sizes tucked in closer to the city behind it. The boats flood in and out, passing you by, the sails floating in the breeze so temptingly you can just see yourself hopping on one so easily and going along to wherever it may take you.

The dream is short-lived, because Jeon’s presence beside you tugs you from your imagination.

“What do you want?” You can feel him looking at you, but you can’t pull your eyes away from the ships drifting by.

It’s a hit to the confidence he strode over here with, but he continues. “What, we can’t make small talk? We’re partners for this, Y/N.”

Any opportunity he sees to make contact with you, he’ll take. He knows why you’re the opposite, but he’s dying to see you, and not just from across a meeting table or a park.

“Partners don’t need to make small talk, they just have to do the job they’ve been assigned and be done with it.”

He exhales tiredly, disappointed in your lack of engagement, like he expected at least a small something more. “Listen, I just wanted to talk to you. I know how things are, and-”

“No, Gguk, you don’t know how things are,” you snap, finally facing him. “You had the past three years to talk to me, but you didn’t. You don’t get to come and take care of things now while it’s convenient for you.”

“It’s not like that.”

“It sure looks like that.”

“Well it’s not.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s me wanting to talk to you. Because it’s been a long time and I miss you.”

You make a sound caught somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, feeling even more let down than you thought you could be. “Yeah, okay.”

It sounds like bull to you. Does he really think you’re that gullible? Does he really think you were going to see him again and run into his arms like a bride who's been tying yellow ribbons around an old oak tree? The anger you felt at the agency yesterday returns, for what happened in the past, for what’s happening now, for all of it. How he can say he missed you when he had all the time in the world, when he was clearly happy after running away from what he had with you, you can’t understand.

Meanwhile, Jeon feels his heart palpitating as he waits for a reply. The explanations want to roll right off his tongue, but he knows this is not the time and place to bring up the subject matter he’s really urging to talk to you about. That conversation will be held soon as he finds it possible. He thought it might be worth it to just start the build-up with trivial chatter, but it’s not working, and probably never will with you.

He picks at his nails, scraping the minimal dirt out. Should he say it? A part of him wants to go for it, and another wants to wait in fear of scaring you. Unfortunately, he thinks it will either way.

“I heard you’ve been taking care of a girl.”

Unbeknownst to you, he’s right.

It steals the breath from your lungs, that residing anger booking it to make room for fear. Though you try to conceal it, you’re sure he’s seen through it, already felt how the atmosphere has shifted. He shouldn’t know about Penny. In fact, no one outside the Mafia should. You can’t meet his eyes, taking more interest in trying to count every strand of fine hair on the space between your knuckles.

It feels just like what Namjoon had talked about, and though you’re sure deep down he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that, it plants a seed of dread in you. In any other world, it might be similar to someone asking, “How are the kids?” and there would be nothing out of the ordinary about it, just a friendly gesture. This instance, however, is layered with a cocktail of warning and concern.

 Penny can fend for herself, she’s responsible, of course, but no one is invincible. It’s only up to a certain point, especially knowing that she’s only a child. 

“How do you know about her?” 

“I still get around,” he says, letting the pause marinate before adding faintly, “Don’t worry. No one that’s gonna try anything knows. I made sure of it.”

The way he still knows what you’re thinking makes you shiver. Or want to throw up. You pass over the slight relief of his last statement in favor of the bliss that comes with ignoring it.

When you don’t reply because you simply don’t know what to make of it, he continues. “It’s honorable. But that’s dangerous for you. To have someone important to you.”

“I know that,” you admit.

It wasn’t like you were stupid. Sure, you were an executive, but what did that mean when Penny made you so vulnerable? The same way they used her against their enemies could be used against you in a heartbeat for tenfold the amount they wanted. She was your weak spot.

“You have to be careful.”

“I know that.”

Jeon winces at your icy inflection. He’s like a child being scolded by his mother. His eyes squeeze shut, thoughts circling back to all the words that were just aching to pour out of him.

“Listen, Y/N, maybe we can go get some coffee? Or-”

You have to cut him off before he gets too out of hand, palms hitting your thighs. “I think that’s enough for today, Gguk.”

He wants to object to your leaving, but he doesn’t want to push you. Your deep sigh is proof of the distress he caused in the past and still continues to leave behind.

So much for some nice quiet time on your own, huh? You stand up and turn from him, heading down the exit path. Realistically, you’re glad he doesn’t call out after you, because you know it would just get you worked up and that was the last thing you needed. When you were around him, you felt the piercing image your reputation had created crumbling to ruins. It pains you to think of the consequences of an emotional err during times like these.

Yet still, it breaks your heart to leave.

☆☆☆

“He’s been really getting to you, huh?”

Yeji’s voice is quiet above the cacophony of clinking silverware and incoherent conversation, but intelligible enough for the both of you to hear in your own space. 

You smear some whipped cream on your forkful of waffle, placing it in your mouth and letting both the fluffy texture and immaculate taste sweep you off your feet for a moment, as brunch is everything good and great in the world. Or at least in your world, at this very moment.

You swallow before answering, your usual temper tamed by the sedative of a certain portmanteau of breakfast and lunch. “Of course he has. He won’t leave me the fuck alone.”

“Well, he does have to work with you.”

As you chew, you shake your head in wide, dramatic arcs. “No, I mean he keeps acting like we’re old friends. After the meeting he asked me If I wanted to get coffee with him!” you exclaimed, “Like no, I’m not getting fucking coffee with you, who do you think you are?”

Yeji flashes her pearly whites at your short fuse, the one she’s versed in remedying. Deft hands lift up her mug for a thoughtful sip.

“Maybe his intentions aren’t that bad. He’s always been happy-go-lucky like that and he’s probably just too oblivious to think about the consequences of what he did. Yeah, pretending like it didn’t happen hurts, but because of what’s going on right now... it might be a blessing in disguise.”

Despite her intimidating appearance, Yeji was an exceptional conversationalist and particularly thoughtful in her advice. It feels more like a talk between two childhood friends catching up over some food, gossiping about people from high school and boy drama. Though it’s not quite that simple, it lets you take a back seat for a little while. Yeji is one of the only people you’d consider a friend.

“What, like making it easier for the mission?”

“Yeah, 'cause if you can push that issue out of the picture temporarily, you can get the job done and either deal with it after or forget about it entirely. And hey, you’re the Scorpion!” Yeji leans across the table in an enthusiastic whisper. “Scorpions are badass and vicious and don’t spend their time getting worked up over men. In fact, Scorpions reel men in and then kill them, especially you.”

You know she’s trying to encourage you, but the thought is spectacularly unappealing. While she was right in what you did, it’s not like you enjoyed it or were proud of it. You hate to be described that way. Perhaps that is your character among the mafia and the image you spread to protect yourself, and perhaps it’s even true when you get in the work mindset, but is that really you? Talk about an identity crisis.

You reach for your water, the condensation slippery on the glass. “That’s just my reputation.”

She sighs, slumping back into her side of the booth. “Okay, scratch that then. What I mean is that, besides the people you’re close to like Penny and I, you’re this astute, intelligent, skilled executive. You’ve accomplished a lot to get where you are. Why are you letting him get under your skin and uproot that?”

Yeji wouldn’t let someone make her feel like that, and she wishes you wouldn’t either. As much as she secretly admires you - for both that reputation and the real you - she cares about you all the same. Maybe one of the only people that does.

“I guess you have a point.”

“You know I have a point.”

“It’s not that easy though, Yeji,” you say weakly, staring down into your glass. “Every time I see him, I don’t know whether I want to kiss him or beat his ass.”

She laughs at your comment, making you crack a smile too. “It happens, Y/N. Love and hurt go hand in hand.” When you look up at her, she reaches a slender hand over the table and interlocks her fingers with your own with a squeeze. “Just tolerate it for now.”

A troubled exhale leaves you at the prospect, but you squeeze back nonetheless. 

“I can do that.” 

☆☆☆

It's two days later when you get a call from none other than the Lion himself. The time has been passing unbearably, slower than a soul train passing an ambulance. You and Penny relaxed by bingeing an ungodly amount of shows and movies, even delving into your weekly budget for a stockpile of snacks and drinks. But with every laugh that tumbled out of you and blended into the live audiences’, the nervous thoughts of the situation lingered in the back of your mind.

But hopefully, this call will have some good news.

“What’s up?”

“Good news.”

Eureka! For once, you’re happy to be speaking to Jeon.

“Like Namjoon said, they slipped up. Someone wasn’t wearing gloves and left a fingerprint in the DA. Intelligence was able to track it down to a random guy living in the Gambling District. I’ll tell you more about him, but I’m coming to pick you up now.”

You to your feet from your seat on the couch, wedging the phone between your shoulder and ear so you could throw your stuff together. Penny pauses the show for you, sending a raised brow. In silent conversation, you shrug.

God, it’s too early. You’re rummaging around the room for your wallet and trying to process cohesive thoughts simultaneously, and it’s not working out.

You stop to let your hands rub at your eyes. “Okay, but how do we know this was an actual slip up? We don’t have footage to check… it might have been on purpose to lead us somewhere.”

The one thing you had learned in all your time was to play like your opponent. Never underestimate them - especially the Syndicate, who clearly wanted that message to reach you. But if you were trying to get the upper hand on the people you were trying to eliminate, it wouldn’t be far fetched to give them a false lead the same way you had before.

“It’s all we got. And if we are led somewhere, we’ll figure it out.”

“Okay. Talk to you in a bit. I’ll meet you in the parking garage?”

“No need. Already walking up.” In the background, you hear Jeon’s keys jingling as he strides. “Also, we’re stopping for food first. Bye.” A blunt click signals the end of the call.

Shit. He’s coming to your apartment? The current state is an indescribable mess - hopefully he wouldn’t call CPS on you. More importantly, you are still in your pajamas, and there is no way he can see you like this.

“Was that the curveball?” Penny asks with an impish interest.

Your eyes squint. “Take a guess.”

Hurrying down the cramped hallway to your shared bedroom with Penny, you trade your sweats for some comfortable jeans and, with the time ticking down, throw a moto jacket over your hoodie. As the knock on the door sounds, you’re gathering your hair into a ponytail.

When you reach the living room, Penny is already pulling the door open. You hear a greeting, and then Jeon’s head appears around it comically, peeking into the apartment.

“There you are,” he says, looking at your current state with confusion. Not exactly what you might wear to base, but it got the job done. He snickers. “What, did I catch you off guard?”

Trying to hold back your minor pants from running around so much, all you can muster is, “Yeah, a little bit.” You turn to the mirror and pluck a bobby pin from your lips, tucking it into your hair to keep the flyaways down.

“Okay, let’s hit it. Penny, super sorry about this, I’ll finish watching with you later when I get home. There’s food in the fridge, you know where the money is, and I’ll call Yeji to check in on you if it gets late, okay?”

She pouts. “Okay.”

“Hey, you remember the safe word?”

Penny nods dramatically, her dark bangs bouncing, standing on her tippy toes to whisper in your ear, “Cherry-cola… also, he’s really cute.”

You pull away laughing, giving her a light noogie with your fist as her nose scrunches up. She wasn’t wrong, of course. Your time apart did him well, and you assume he must have gotten tips on how to dress because of how effortlessly put together he looked these days. But that's beside the point.

“Love you, Pen. Bye. And make sure your ringer is on.” With a small peck on the top of her head and bidding goodbye with a promise to return, you’re pulling away and leading Jeon out the door, being careful in locking it behind you.

“What’s with the safeword?” He asks, starting down the hall to the elevator. An uncomfortable tilt to his lips fixes on his face. “Isn’t that… kinda inappropriate?”

You roll your eyes, swatting at his shoulder. “Ew. Not that kind of safeword, dumbass. It’s so she knows who she can trust and let inside. There’s a lot of people that I trust that she doesn’t know, so if I have someone swinging by I tell them so she knows she can trust them too.”

He makes a sound of understanding, slipping his hands into his pockets. The way he ambles is spirited yet composed, shoulders relaxed with purposeful steps. Jeon always came and went like low tide in the morning, a calmer view of his personality considering his notorious “devil may care” attitude.

“Can you tell me?” Once he sees the disapproving expression on your face, he continues, “Listen, I already know about her. What if something happens and you need me to get her and you’re too busy dying to tell me?”

Crossing your arms in front of you, you shake your head. “Hopefully that will never happen in the first place, but god forbid…” you cautiously lower your voice, “Cherry-cola.”

“Cherry-cola?” he repeats casually.

You shush him loudly, glaring and speaking through gritted teeth. “The point of a safeword is that not everyone knows it!” 

“Sorry,” his lips purse as you press the button and begin waiting for the elevator. “Why that one?”

“It’s our favorite drink. Goes with anything.”

“Well...”

You cut him off with a hand as the thick metal doors slide open and the two of you step inside. “Not a matter of opinion. I don’t want to hear it.”

He raises his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. I will respect that, but you know...”

It’s then that you see him giving you a look, an impish smile adorning his cheeks. The dimples that gently poke his skin are the kind that make you feel lucky.

“What?”

His eyes avert, head shaking as he turns away and exchanges his view for his sly reflection in the metal. “Oh, nothing.”

“Gguk.”

A teasing tone coats his tongue as he speaks. “Well, I don’t know, it just reminded me, you know, just pulled the thought from the deep recess of my brain, that.... we used to have one too.”

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, even considering asking him to repeat himself.  The arch look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. “Yeah, we did,” you agree. “Not like I ever had to use it...”

He faces you with a disbelieving breath of laughter leaving his open mouth, astonished. “What, did you want to have to say it?”

You shrug nonchalantly, raising your voice to say, “No, no… you were always just a little soft about it, that’s all.”

You can’t help the grin growing on your face as his lips part in offense, one corner slowly turning up in a knowing open-mouthed smile. His lids drop in the slightest manner, barely noticeable if you didn’t pay such close attention, and you have to turn away before your face starts to blaze too unbearably. “Oh, you know I was not soft.”

Both of you are thinking the same thing, no doubt about it. Memories roll back like pristine tapes on a projector, ones that most definitely prove his point.

You clear your throat, unsure of where the conversation is going and not bold enough to let it brew. “Anyway, about the guy…?”

He’s disappointed in your choice to change the subject, the tell in the way his head drops and chews at his lower lip for a split second, but abides nonetheless. “Twenty-six years old, been working at lots of casinos around as a dealer but his most recent job was three months ago at King’s Crown. After that, no record. Unfortunately, we have to take him alive since the investigation has the police involved.”

“Unfortunately?”

“Well, kind of. It’s just limiting when there’s a stipulation.”

“Okay. I will respect that.”

Your callback is the cause of a smile taking over his face. You’re glad he doesn’t mention your attitude - if he did, your dignity wouldn’t let you continue. Maybe it’s your good mood paired with his unexpectedness, maybe it’s Yeji’s advice telling you to tolerate him, but regardless, you won’t deny that it feels better than the anger. With hope of a lead comes hope that this could work out.

“By the way, what’re you in the mood for?” Jeon asks casually, turning to you. “We can do fast food, we can do Firehouse...”

As soon as he says the word, memories from long ago that almost don’t even feel like yours resurface. Firehouse was always your and Jeon’s go-to pizza place on lunch break or for celebration after a job well done. Though you haven’t been there in years, the delectable taste of their pies is still fresh in your mind. It’s tempting, but you don’t want to make the decision. You weren’t that hungry, anyway. Jeon stares, awaiting an answer.

At your shrug, his patience runs out and he fishes his hand into his pocket. “Okay, I’m flipping a coin. Firehouse is heads, tails is the nearest drive-thru.”

He says it naturally, but you know he’s testing the water by the way his gaze lingers, measuring your reaction to see if you’ll be angry with him. Not one, but two fond tokens from the past, all in the span of thirty seconds? At one point, flipping a coin was an everyday occurrence to settle disagreements, whether it be where to eat, what time to close up shop, or whose plan to follow. You know he’s trying to jog your good memories, but maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

The metal flings from his thumb and lands with a muted tap in his opposite palm. He slaps it over to the backside of his hand.

“Heads. Firehouse it is.” His eyes flick up to yours, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

You grin. “Sure. Wanted that anyway.”

He rolls his eyes. A shy smile crawls up his face, the faint hallmark scar at the edge of his cheekbone shifting. “Yeah, alright. Tell me next time before it lands on something you don’t want.”

The elevator doors open with a ding, freeing you into the open world. If you let the resentment subside for a few minutes, it feels just like it used to when things were okay - you and Jeon against the world.

☆☆☆

“So this is it?”

You’re staring up a beat down brick building four stories high. It’s dilapidated and nearly falling apart, in contrast to the virgin casinos, modern and flawless with intricate architecture and an ambiance of expense just half a mile away. Supposedly, your guy was somewhere in there, and it was your best bet that he had something of value to give you.

Jeon slams his side of the car door, still licking at pizza grease on his forearm, and comes around to stand next to you. “Yeah. Floor two, apartment two.” You laugh to yourself incredulously at his casual antics, but he doesn’t seem to care as he walks right up to the door.

He finds that no buzzer is needed for entry, so with your guns at the ready, you take slow steps inside. Jeon leads, you trailing to the side of him. It’s eerily quiet, not a single person out to encounter, none of the hustle and bustle a usual apartment would contain, not even the sounds of footsteps or moving furniture. Did anyone actually live here?

The floors of the hallways are decorated with faded forest green carpet, stains and dust covering the washed-out fabric. There is an ugly floral strip of wallpaper at the top of the beige walls that are dented and scraped in random places.

You’re careful to keep down the volume of the creaking stairs as you shift your weight over them, but it’s nearly impossible. Upon further inspection, the door frame of apartment two was covered in scratches and markings, thin cobwebs joined in the corners. The door itself looks cheap and it has what seems to be a few drops of blood splattered near the knob. You and Jeon share a look of uncertainty, those gut instincts kicking in to let you know that something was off.

He begins to count down, and on three, you’re pushing in the door. He rushes in first with you on his tail to scope out the sides. The apartment is empty, except…

“Well, that’s fucking fantastic.”

There’s a dead body occupying the chair in front of the television. It’s the man, alright, but his throat has been slit, red coating his neck and clothes, head hanging back over the seat. There’s no smell, though - it couldn’t have been that long since others were here, especially due to the slight glisten of blood not yet dry on his skin.

They didn’t bury him, either. Just left the body out in the open for you to find. One alarming step ahead, just like last time.

“Covering their tracks. They knew he fucked up and took care of him before we could,” says Jeon, scouring the rest of the beaten-down unit. No signs of a struggle, no mess, no nothing. A dead end.

When you pat the body down, reach into his pockets, there’s nothing. When you move to his bedroom and start to search through his nightstand, it strikes you that there might be something invasive about rustling through a dead man’s belongings, but you’ve done it too many times to still be sensitive to it. You peer around his closet, look under the mattress, filter through his drawers, until a certain glint of light catches your eye.

On the side of his bed closest to the window, a small card lies on the carpet beneath, hidden by the frame if it weren’t for the shiny sticker on the back. You bring it up for a closer look in the light.

It’s got his name, picture, and contact information as well as a barcode at the bottom. Not a driver’s license, but an ID card for the Belvedere Casino. The sticker in the top corner makes out a small icon of a spread of playing cards.

You’re about to shout out to Jeon, but stop yourself as soon as you open your mouth.  You take a slow once over around the room. Namjoon’s words echo in between your thoughts - Could the place be bugged? They were here not so long ago, and considering how they kept seeming to be a step in front of you at all times, it wasn’t a far stretch. There was no way to be sure, but you had a hunch.

Walking back to the main room, you catch his attention from where he is snooping around the shelves. 

“Didn’t find anything. I think we’re out of luck.” When he turns to look at you, you widen your eyes and make an intense gesture with your finger to your lips before pointing a finger from your ear to the ceiling and directing your eyes around the room. You’re grateful when he understands immediately.

“Seriously? Nothing?” he asks timidly.

“Yeah. They got us. We should head back and call for cleanup, see if they can find anything.” You start for the door, pulling it open.

He hums, eyeing the item in your hand as he walks out behind you. “Good idea… I don’t really want to be here anymore anyway. Feels too weird.”

It’s silent all the way down. Was it too obvious? Was the dialogue too strange, too choppy? The two of you reach the street, careful of your surroundings, before getting back in his car. 

“What was that about?” he asks, shutting the door as he slides into the driver’s seat.

You hold out the card for him to take. “Look. You know how you said there was no recent record of employment besides at King’s Crown? He’s been working at the Belvedere the past three months.”

He looks at you incredulously. “And?”

For whatever reason, he makes you doubt yourself. Suddenly, that solid idea you had in mind that made you split from the apartment is no longer so solid.

“The Belvedere has to have something. That’s our new lead!” Pulling your seatbelt over your body, you reach for your phone to give the Boss an update.

“He could have just been working off-record and gotten involved with the Syndicate some other way.”

You turn to him seriously. “Jeon. If it’s separate, why bother? Why would he be working for the Syndicate when he has a stable source of income as a dealer unless the two come hand in hand? They have to be hiding in plain sight.”

“And you’re willing to bet all your cards on that?” You almost find the doubt in his voice offensive.

You exhale deeply, trying to push down your temper. “The people in the Syndicate who killed him made sure there was nothing left on him to tell us who he was. No wallet, no keys, no license, no nothing, because they wanted his identity hidden. If he was working for them separately, why would they bother to do that? They would have just killed him and left. But it was about who he was and what he did. Which was dealing at The Belvedere.”

The car goes silent, and Jeon doesn’t reply. He only looks at you blankly, his poker face hard to break through, but not impossible. You know when he lets a hand slip up to tug at the strands at the nape of his neck.

“Good job,” he grins, hooking the key in the ignition and rumbling the car to life. He pulls out of the parking spot and onto the road casually. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You cross your arms in front of you protectively, glaring at him from the side.

“Oh, come on. I never actually doubted you, I was just messing around.”

You scoff loudly, turning to the window. “You’re such a fucking liar, Gguk. You didn’t get the connection until I explained it and the fact that you can’t even admit that you’re wrong, the fact that you have to act like you always knew, blows my fucking mind!”

He makes a left turn, looking out at the road, clearly avoiding you even though you’re stuck in the same damn car a foot away. “Calm down, Y/N. It’s not that serious.”

“But it is that serious! It was going so well, Gguk. We were finally acting like regular partners on a job. You always have to ruin everything, don’t you? It always has to be about you, and how much of a hero you are-”

“I never said I was a hero.”

“But you sure act like it.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m being ridiculous? Comes from the guy who claims he was ‘just joking around’ during a serious case like this when you know it’s not like what it used to be.”

“Okay, fine!” He shouts, hands slamming down on the steering wheel. “I did doubt you. I thought it was far fetched.” Jeon's voice booms as he rambles quickly in aggravation. “And then you explained it and I remembered that you’re really fucking smart and I wouldn’t have made that connection myself. And I lied because I didn’t know what else to say. I’m sorry, okay? Are you happy?”

Jeon’s free hand, which had been jerking around as he yelled, finds itself gripping the wheel again regretfully. Silence fills the car, hanging in the air as heavy and solid as concrete. You’re almost scared to breathe in face of all the tension. He looks like he’s about to say something else but stops himself before the words fall out. 

The way you were fuming brings tears to your eyes. When your parents died, all you had was Jeongguk. But Jeongguk’s heart had been rooted in the mafia since he was young. The two were mutually exclusive, and your best option was following after him. It was hard to believe the boy you put your trust in so blindly all those years ago had grown into the man sitting next to you now, bringing you to tears with the way he infuriated you. Where did it all go wrong?

“No. I’m not.”

☆☆☆

You’re tired when you go to bed that night, and you’re tired when you wake up. Though you’re barely awake, you can feel Penny nestled into your side, body rising and falling as she breathes. It’s a small comfort, especially after the rough day you had. Last night had been a mess as you tried to hold it together for her, but simply couldn’t. 

Today, you’ll be heading over to a motel in the Gambling District to stay at indefinitely with Jeon while you work on the case. You have no clue how long it will take - you’ll be taking a look at the Belvedere, but what comes after that, you don’t know.

It was important to note that somehow, the two of you had moved up to the faces of the mission, even though both sides were working tirelessly in the search. 

The last thing you want to do right now is see him, but you have no choice. The sooner you start working and get it done, the sooner you can get home. But for now, you have to start packing. You take another moment to lay with Penny, because when you’ll next feel this safety and comfort again, you can’t be sure of. Then, you carefully unlink her from you and begin laying things out.

Something nice to wear for the casino, clothes to sleep in, essentials for hygiene, an extra pair of socks… 

Eventually, Penny stretches out and groans to inform you of her awakening while you roam around the room. Her feet shifting under the comforter push a t-shirt off the bed.

“Sleep okay?” She rubs her eyes. “Yeah, you?”

“Eh. Could have been better.”

While you are away, Penny will be home by herself. The Boss said that she wouldn’t be required for work while you were gone - she could stay home and safe, for your reassurance. It still makes you nervous, of course, but bringing her with you isn’t an option. Yeji promised she would stop in from time to time, and you would be leaving her with a sum of money in case she needs it to order food or something of the sort.

“When are you leaving?”

“I have to be there by one, so probably in an hour or so.”

“Can we make waffles then?”

You sigh, letting your arms go limp at your side. Waffles were a hassle, and the cleanup could be a nightmare, but… something told you it was worth it over the potential mess.

“Sure, go get the machine set up and I’ll come out in a sec.”

It takes a few more minutes to get everything packed, take a few extra bottles of soaps and gels just in case, quickly zipping up your duffle bag and tossing it down onto the bed for when you return later.

Out in the kitchen, Penny has gotten more of a move on. She has already retrieved the ingredients from the pantry, even started measuring amounts out accordingly with the instructions on the back of the box.

You let her have a little fun and crack the eggs this time - though some shell gets in there, it’s nothing you can’t pick out. She makes jokes and you can’t help but laugh, and something about it has its way of calming you down. It reminds you of how precious moments spent together are. Something about the girl just makes you let go of the burdens you carry.

But it’s much too soon that you’re cleaning up. A small ending for a small fragment of your day bound to be filled with things much larger than you’re ready to handle. 

The rain falls like feathers when you pull into the lot, plunking consistently on your windshield. You turn the key and take it out, shutting down the vehicle’s rumbling engine, the lights dimming out all around you. You should get inside sooner than later, before the weather worsens, but you can’t seem to bring yourself out of the car. Jeon’s is already parked, meaning he’s inside waiting. But there’s no other choice you have. You’ll have to see him at some point, anyway. Postponing will only anger you further.

You push open the car door quickly, grabbing your bag and darting up the stairs as they clang under your shoes. The droplets smack against your skin and drip down relentlessly. It could be worse, but it is certainly not pleasant. Once you find shelter under the awning, you raise your hand in preparation to knock, but Jeon is already yanking open the door and stepping aside to make way for your entrance.

Inside, you dab at your hair with your sleeve carefully, fixing it in the mirror opposite to you. As clued in by the backpack and laptop already set up on the right side of the singular bed in the room, you deduced he had already claimed it. Therefore, you take the initiative to place your own bag on the left side, closest to the wall.

“So… how are you?”

“I’m fine.” You reach into your bag to begin unpacking a few of your essentials, feeling his eyes glued to you as you move around the room. Even as you plug in your charger, toss your computer on the bed, you could sense his firm yet uneasy presence behind you.

“Have you started yet?” you ask, brushing back the hair that had fallen forward onto your face. You’d prefer to start your work instead of floating around the elephant in the room awkwardly. 

He tucks his hands into his pockets. “No, I was waiting for you.” Jeon has been stuck to the same spot near the dim lamp beside the door since you stepped through the threshold. It inclined you to think that maybe he’s as nervous as you are, but you’re sure it’ll pass over in a matter of minutes once he gathers himself. 

“Okay.” You exhale in thought, sweeping yourself into a comfortable position on the bed. “I’ll start doing background on the casino and it’s ownership records. You can look into workers or people associated with the man who was killed. Or call the agency, I don’t know. You do you.”

He makes a small noise of agreement, flipping open his laptop. However, with the slow movement of his fingers across the keyboard, the air void of purposeful clicking, you can tell he’s not getting much done. In fact, you can see in your peripheral his stillness, as if he’s waiting to make a move.

When you spare a glimpse over to him, he offers an expression of deep thought, only to say, “There are snacks, too. In case you get hungry.”

Your scampering flow of typing pauses. “Okay.” All you can offer is a brief, tight pull of your lips, what you could barely define as a smile.

Luckily, he seems to receive your message loud and clear, turning back around in his chair to start up whatever he was planning on. You know what you want to get - the information most valuable to doing what you needed to do and confirming what you already suspected, which was in the past records of the proprietorship. It would also be helpful if you could find current workers and see what they were doing; Maybe even more helpful if you could find nothing at all.

The records you stumble upon are nothing short of interesting once you finally break down that barrier. Ownership of the casino had been consistent up until three months ago, when the deed holder - a healthy man of only fifty-six years old - made a business deal and swiftly moved out of the country, only to be found dead in his home a month later. The new owner’s background appeared without even the slightest scratch. The lack of suspicion is suspicious in itself - you don’t think the Falcon would have the place under his own name, but having it under someone who is pristine as a newly minted coin is dubious all the same.

It’s the shut of Jeon’s laptop that sucks you back into the reality of the motel room from your online sanctuary. He stands up to stretch and makes a move for the bathroom. The room is shrouded in the darkness of nighttime, save for the moonlight streaming in through the windows and the sorry excuse for a lamp on your night table. It wouldn’t kill you to call it a night either.

When he emerges, you take your turn, bringing a change of clothes with you so you won’t have to face the tension that might arise if you came back out in just a towel. The shower is pleasant; For a second, if you close your eyes, you’re no longer in the same space with him and can enjoy the time for yourself. 

Your heavy heart can’t be kept at bay for too long. Outside the bathroom is a surprisingly accurate reminder of old times, when scenes just like this were the regular, and the feeling was the same. But at this moment, the way you’re avoiding his eyes while you braid your hair in the mirror is a show of just how much things have changed.

“Why are you looking at me?” you pipe quietly over the steady padding of your feet on the carpet, his watch following you hesitantly.

Jeon sits back at the head of the bed, not sure where to direct his gaze anymore now that you’ve verbally interrupted it. His constant attention, and especially the way he doesn’t deny it even in the face of your attitude towards him, leaves you with a weary ache that you’re quickly getting tired of feeling all the time.

A charming, shy smile fixes on his face as his head tilts endearingly, testing the waters. “What, I can’t look at you?”

“Not like that,” you mumble, barely above a whisper, lifting up the sheets to crawl in, leaving as much space as possible between the two of you. When you turn your back to him to look at the wall, you think he might make another teasing comment, but he doesn’t.

“It’s the braid,” he elaborates, as if it’s some sort of excuse sufficient enough to play flirty and cool with you when the situation is anything but. “It reminds me of when we were kids… you used to wear it like that every day.” 

It’s almost as if to say, do you remember? But of course you remember. Afternoons spent at the playground, your hair in a loose braid thrown over the front of your shoulder. Mornings spent in the courtyard, scribbling down answers to work that was due in ten minutes. Evenings spent wandering around town, laughing and joking together as kids should. But nothing offered by the times of the past could dismiss the times of the present.

You lean over and tug the chain on the lamp, darkness enclosing your small room.

“Go to bed, Gguk.”

He doesn’t make another sound that night.

☆☆☆

The storm has proven its resilience yet continues to torrent, horribly testing the aging logs of trees and endlessly splattering your windows. Even still, it has something to say, residing anger it wants to make you feel, trapping you inside your room and limiting your options. It’s a deep pain, but perhaps if you were a storm, you’d let yourself drain out every ounce of deplorable wrath until there was nothing leftover, too.

Jeon sits at the small table near the door. He’s been there for who knows how long, flipping through pages, making phone calls that connect no dots, wasting his time. There is nothing that can be done at the moment, not with the state of the weather at least. Weather, a trivial matter, the most popular topic choice for insignificant conversation, heeds your course of action without a known resumption.

In the meantime, you enjoy yourself as much as you can. You make popcorn in the less than appealing microwave and settle in to watch whatever piques your interest in the slightest, meaning there is not a wide selection. Right now, you’ve got on a show about the aliens who have supposedly visited ancient Egypt and other societies bygone, and have been consistently present throughout the timeline of human history.

“Y/N. Let me ask you a question.” Jeon rubs his forehead, slumping over in his chair. “Did you come here with the intention of helping this case, or just to vacation?”

You nod in thought, humming. “Good question. I’d say the former, but I don’t think your question was intended to have an answer. Let me ask you a question then.”

His tired face turns to you expectantly. 

You take a pensive breath before raising your hand and asking slowly, “Do you think that aliens provided advanced technologies to the Germans to build new weapons for the Third Reich?”

He stares at you blankly, meeting your still and inquisitive expression for just a moment until he cracks, shaking his head and looking away toward the window, as if he’ll find something better to say out there.

“No, I’m serious,” you insist as you toss another kernel into your mouth, hoping he takes your biting satire to heart. “Because, this guy is saying that the Germans built a flying saucer. A whole fucking flying saucer, called the Haunebu, and no, wait, listen, it was said to use mythical technology from old Indian texts.”

You stare, intent on waiting for a response. Jeon pinches the bridge of his nose, the way his fuse was quickly shortening keeping you bitterly entertained. “You have to work with me, Y/N. Can you please just work with me?”

The joke dissolves and you blankly turn to flip through the channels. “I am working with you. There’s just nothing to work on.”

He puts his head in his hands. “For God’s sake, can you stop? I know you don’t care for me, but if you could just cooperate-”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Care for you?” you repeat, your smile fueled with gallons of flammable offense, sitting upright on the bed. He spins in his chair to face you again, eyebrows knitting together before confirming, “Yeah, care for me!”

A sour laugh escapes you, arms folding over your front. “I don’t care for you? That’s rich, Gguk.” 

“No, you don’t! And I don’t think you ever have, quite frankly, because you’re acting like such a bitch to me and can’t even give me a chance!” Jeon stands now, leaning into his words as his hands stretch out in dramatic gestures.

You jump to your feet. ”Why should I give you a chance? What good has that ever done me?”

Jeon’s jaw visibly clenches, his hand shooting up to meet his chin as he eschews your scrutinizing eye. You feel your nails digging into your palms as your fists clench, but you’re sure you’ll swing at something if you stop.

Your throat begins to sting, masking your cracking voice with a low tone. “I almost died for you, Gguk. And a week later, you left me.”

The room collapses under the weight of the elephant. It’s everything you’ve wanted to say for years bubbling to the top.

As soon as the venom leaves your mouth, you know he remembers. The guilt washing over his features says it all, awful clips of the last mission you ever went on together passing through his vision.

It was supposed to be an easy interception of a deal, but Jeon’s inability to differentiate between necessary risk and recklessness cost you your covers. He got away. You were captured.

It was torture at the expense of his safety. Excruciating pain in order to protect him from his own mistake. Your blood spilled, your tears cried, your body hurt. Yet at the end of every video, every call, every threat, your only message to him was that it was okay.

They were the worst you had ever encountered. They wanted leverage over the Boss; They wanted Jeon. And the only way to him was to you. At the time, it was worth it. You wouldn’t give him up, you wouldn’t let yourself become a part of an exchange for his life. You put his over your own in a heartbeat.

And where had that gotten you?

Your depth of a breaking point had provided that desperately needed time to organize a plan of attack, and even though you hadn’t been there quite yet, even though you had been trained and it was far from your first rodeo, it wasn’t anything less than scarring. 

Even though the mafia infiltrated and rescued you successfully, the inner turmoil never fully recovered. Though you moved past the nightmares and the flashbacks that hid in your damaged subconscious, the memory never stopped hurting. Especially when he up and left you to deal with it on your own.

“I know,” is all he can muster. 

A thrilling laugh of spite rips from your throat. He hates it.

“What? That’s all you can say? You can’t even give me an explanation?”

“I… I was out of options for us, Y/N. After the mission, I knew it was me making you vulnerable. People were hurting you over me, and I didn’t want that for us anymore. I made a plan to leave, and I thought that you could come with me… but I was stupid and in a rush and the deal was only for my cooperation if the Agency helped me out. They wouldn’t let me take you.”

Your usual crisp verbosity fails you now, everything you need to say stuck in your throat. A stabbing anguish falls like bullets in a downpour, a storm born only in the bitterest winter. 

“I know I fucked up, Y/N, I know I did. And I’ll always be sorry and I’ll always regret it. And I’ll spend every second of my life trying to make up for it.” Jeon’s lip quivers through his shaky breaths, his eyes now soaked, the ache in his heart unforgiving. “And I know I can’t ever take it back, but you hate me so bad…”

A pained upturn of your lips feeling the grudge of a thousand wrongdoings phases over your expression, for him, for you, for everyone you’d ever known in this sickening lifetime.

“I don’t hate you, Gguk,” you sob through your teeth, wiping furiously at your eyes, “I hate… I hate that I love you regardless of what you do.”

He winces. “Please don’t do that to me.” “Do what?”

Hot streams of tears trickled down his supple cheeks, voice cracking as he whispers, “Say that you love me when you know how I feel.”

“Oh shut up, Jeongguk!” you yell, wet rage prickling your veins as it courses through you. Your cheeks are now just vessels for a dam breaking loose. “I have always loved you!”

And it hurts so bad to say it. The way he makes your stomach flutter feels like a betrayal to yourself. But that smile he wears like a medallion, those eyes that are always searching for you, that golden heart that loved you so well - everything you hate is everything you love. Even when you want to ignore the truth for everything it’s worth and all the weight it heaves on its shoulders, it’s impossible to escape the way you love him even when you wish you could just hate him.

You calm yourself with a shaky breath. “I loved you before, and I loved you after, even when you left and I knew you weren’t coming back.”

“That’s not true,” he sputters, taking a step toward you. “I was always going to come back. Every day, I begged for help to get you out. But the deal I made with the agency was only my rescue for my cooperation, and it didn’t include you, no matter what I tried to do.”

It stings your chest. You have to turn away when your head drops to your palms, but he’s quick to reach a hand to your shoulder for your attention. 

“It’s been over three years, Gguk,” you whisper, sniffling as you wipe your running nose with your sleeve. Your voice is clogged in disappointed acceptance. “Don’t lie. Just say my relevance to you faded and you forgot.”

He grasps your arm gently, beckoning your eyes to meet his. While your tears are slowing from tire, his are an endless faucet left on in negligence.

“No,” his tone softens, “No, I was waiting until it was safe.”

You shake your head, the soreness in your chest present as ever as you try to hold it all in. “It was never going to be safe.”

“Maybe. And maybe it won’t ever be. But you have to let me make it right.”

“How do you intend on doing that? Putting snacks in the fridge doesn’t do shit, Gguk.”

He inhales deeply as his lips press together. Jeon takes a careful glance around the room, eyebrows furrowing as he silently pleads with you. 

“I made a plan to get you out after the mission is completed. The higher-ups at the Agency agreed just in exchange for you to give a private report with as much as you know for future reference. From there, it’s you going wherever you want, no strings attached, no extra deal you have to make.”

“That won’t work,” you scoff.

“Yes, it will! I promise it will! Listen, everything is already planned. My friends are taking extra care because they trust me. You’ll have new records, a new passport and a license, new everything, and even…”

“Gguk...” You whisper as he continues rambling. “Gguk. Jeongguk!”

He takes in a sharp breath as his words are cut off mid-stream, feeling his heart drop to his stomach.

In a quiet, calm whisper, you explain, “I can’t. I have Penny and other people here that I care about. For god sake, I have money I've been saving for years in that apartment, all our stuff is there, I can’t just leave and not come back.”

The desperation in his voice is now out in the open. “I know. I wasn’t expecting that, but I’m working on her now, too. You just have to trust me.”

For a second, he lets himself swell with hope, but your deep, despondent sigh crumbles him right back down to where he started. 

“Gguk…” you start, but he can’t bear to hear it, leaning down to meet your hesitant eyes straight on. Distress clouds his watery pupils as he implores you with every ounce of sincerity he can muster to the surface for you. He doesn’t know how else he can make you see he’s being more honest now than he ever has been in his life. 

“It’s okay if you can’t forgive me. I understand, and I’ll never stop being sorry. And, and I’m sorry for how I acted when I saw you again, but I was just so scared.” His lip trembles as he searches for eyes for something, anything. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do because I was so scared of what you’d say and how you’d feel and I thought if I acted like it was fine, it wouldn’t hurt as bad.” 

He swallows on a dry mouth, trying not to stammer but his heart denying him that ability.

“I, I thought about you every day. Every day. And I knew it was complicated and everyone told me I should just let go and, and I just couldn’t! I just knew it was you. It was always you. And I am so, so sorry I made you feel it wasn’t.”

By now, you can’t restrain your tears, no matter how hard you clench your teeth or comfort your face. In a moment of deep affliction, there’s no other place to turn but him. The second you pull him to you is relief synonymous with the feeling of when a battered castaway finally spots a plane coming for their rescue; it is joint. 

“I wish I could trust you, Jeongguk,” Sobs muffled by his comforting chest, you cry, ”But I don’t know if I can do that. I want to believe you so bad, but I… I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

The comforting warmth of his body is a mean juxtaposition against the harsh sobs that rack through it. Jeongguk smells of something sweet and nostalgically familiar, like sunny beach days spent down by the salty water, plucking seashells from the sand and digging for hermit crabs once the waves pull away from the shore. Light sunscreen and grainy memories that flash by as your brain slides through like film.

“That’s okay,” he mumbles into your hair. Your will splinters in his arms. “Just think about it. That’s all. Just think about it.”

Though you nod against him in shaky assent, it’s not a promise. 

☆☆☆

Not the next day, but the day after, is when you decide to make your move. 

The casino is a home base, hidden in plain sight. Not even that - crowded by the public eye, and yet not a suspicion raised despite its astronomical numbers being reported over the past few months. Sure, it was bustling full of rich men in need of something to spend their money on, but not enough to sustain those incredible reports.

And under that brittle, flimsy assumption comes your similarly brittle, flimsy plan. Go in, see what you can see. Scout for suspicious activity, chat up drunk patrons and loosen their lips, explore the building a bit. See what you see.

Your fingers are nimble, but your prickling nerves make them fumble as you try the clasp on your necklace. The nail on your pointer can’t seem to hold the small lever down for long enough, even when you twist the chain around so you can lean forward to do it in the mirror. You even consider just tossing it to the side and going without the necklace.

Jeon, standing awkwardly to the side and already having fixed his sleeves in place countless times, glances over to you in the mirror briefly. You sigh when you catch his hesitant watch in the reflection - his shy offer goes unspoken, just a reminder that it’s there if you want to take it. All it takes is a minuscule top of your head to give in.

 Resisting Jeongguk is like resisting gravity. It pulls you down sooner or later, no matter how high or far you push yourself off. But at the end of the day, it keeps you grounded.

His footsteps are barely audible on the carpet as he approaches timidly. Light on his feet, as always. You surrender the ends of the necklace to him and tug the pendant back around to the front. The pads of his fingertips are rough as they drag lightly across your skin in the exchange, igniting a flaming feeling in their path. You can feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as he pushes them out of the way with the back of his hand. Considering his extensive training and incredible eye, you’re sure he notices it, but you’re grateful he doesn’t say anything.

You try not to let your eyes wander in the mirror for too long. For your excursion tonight, your dress is one of the best you own - a simple, dark satin gown with a generous leg slit to steal some eyes, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. The deep cowl neck is flattering in its pristine v-shape, especially with the way the pendant hangs itself just above.

Jeon is sporting all black. His shirt is ironed smoothly, fitting well over his shoulders and tucked with care into his trousers and secured with a sturdy belt. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to reveal his skin, tattoos peeking out in a shamelessly appealing way, and the collar…

Okay, too much. You’ll go into sensory overload if you look any longer. He’s caught onto it, the way a smirk creeps onto his face. He lingers a second longer after he’s clasped the jewelry in place. The Gguk you know flicks his eyes up quickly and throws a small, short smile your way, hands reluctant to pull away as they take the time to drift over your bare shoulders.

You clear your throat, taking the initiative to get on your way. He hides the way his spirit dips at the rejection, but he knows he can’t expect more. Once you’re outside and have locked the door behind you, the night air hits you, cool and fresh and promising. But for what exactly, you can’t be sure.

☆☆☆

The Belvedere is one of the most expensive-looking places in the city - in the months since you’d last worked a case around the gambling district, it had certainly been renovated. At the very front, the casino’s name glows light blue in a thin font while large ivory columns hold up a wide intricate ceiling to shade the pavilion. A wall of luxe glass doors lines the entrance, so sparkly and reflecting you think it can’t be just glass. 

As inviting as the front entrance seems, it is not your way in. Too many scrutinizing eyes, too many cautious cameras, too much security for your type of job. That leads you to the side of the building, a small alley between buildings with one side entrance. The agency already looped the footage twenty minutes ago just to be safe.

But of course when you try it, it’s locked.

“And… what now? They’ll notice if we just break in.”

Jeon shrugs. “Maybe not until a little while. Besides, we’re covered.” His pointer finds the camera up above the two of your for reference.

“I’d rather hold off on the damage we do.”

As he racks his brain for another option, your brain tunes in to the muted sound of shoes on linoleum. He raises a question just as you put your ear to the door but your shush quiets him immediately. The footsteps are coming your way.

Just as you feel the door about to open, you tug Jeon to the side next to the door’s hinge, pulling him down by his collar into a kiss. The door opens loudly and his hands, after his initial shock dissipates, find themselves on your waist as your own snake their way around his neck. You make sure one hand covers the side of his face generously and that your hair masks your own, meanwhile Jeon can’t help himself from getting swept up in you.

A guard, you think it is, halts when he sees the two of you, but takes it off his radar when he can no longer stand to watch your shamelessness. Or rather, Jeon’s shamelessness. His lips persistently press themselves to yours, nipping and pulling all the while his large hands push into your waist. Something about it makes you think it’s not just for a distraction.

The man shakes his head and turns the opposite direction, walking out toward the street. Before the heavy door falls closed behind him, you reach an arm out to grab the handle. Jeon pulls back slowly, blinking dumbfoundedly. He never thought you’d do such a thing - but clearly, it wasn’t such a thing to you by the way you were grinning like you’d only told a joke. He swallows, mentally slapping himself in a note to get himself together. You’re already stepping inside, and he picks up to follow suit.

You follow the hallway down the main room, and no one raises any concern, probably unable to sense suspicion in their state of inebriation. The two of you weave your way through crowds of people with too much money to spend, quietly thinking of how easy it would be to pickpocket them - but that’s for another time. 

A quick scan of the room provides you with the bar, rows of slot machines, pool tables, and a large lounge area filled with the sounds of mindless chatter and glasses clinking. You order drinks to blend in, nothing alcoholic, because as much as you wish you could get drunk and have fun in a casino, that wasn’t the reason you were here. Jeon hands you your coke with a practiced movement.

In a cheesy sort of cheers, he says, “To… the Lion and the Scorpion? Or is that too soon?” He purses his lips, half scared you’ll agree its too soon. It’s relief when he hears the laugh he missed so dearly.

“Not too soon, just a little embarrassing.” You clink your glass to his and take a sip. Jeon leads you over to the dartboards in excitement, one of his favorites to partake in. He chooses the one at the end of the row so you can stand beside him, supposedly to be impressed by his skills and praise him.

“God, this reminds me of Macau,” he sighs out contently. His coffee eyes roam around the large expanse of the hall, seeming to glitter under the crystal chandeliers hanging above you as he walks back from the controls, darts in hand. He gets into position and throws his first, landing for two points in the ring of red. As if you didn’t already know, he adds, “I loved Macau.”

You scoff. “What, because of the way our covers were blown and we had to massacre the lobby, or the sex?”

“Why not both?” He shrugs, smirk creeping onto his face. Another dart leaves his grip, expert aim leading right to the bullseye.

You take another sip of your drink. “Careful,” you warn, “Can’t be too good at this. It comes with questions.”

He hums, and you wonder if he’s even listening. “And you still had blood on your chest. Weirdly sexy.” His eyes narrow jokingly as he speaks just low enough so only you can hear it, and the reaction it pulls from you is exactly what he wanted when he starts to laugh. He lets go of his last dart with a shake of his head, either at the memory or his bad throw that says he’s going fishing.

He turns back to you. At your annoyed expression, he takes another swig of his drink and leans down to your ear. “Seriously though. That was hot.”

You roll your eyes before sending a scowl his way. “I’ll make sure to be extra messy tonight, just for you.” Your eyes crinkle peevishly. The sarcastic tone doesn’t escape him, but he does look hopeful.

“Hey, speaking of, this could be my New Macau. If you’re feeling frisky after the mission.” He throws you a flirtatious wink. While your poker face implies disinterest, your stomach is somersaulting head over heels, and you have a feeling he knows it by the way his eyes linger on you when you raise your glass to your lips. 

The phone in your purse vibrates. It’s a text from Yeji - need to get a move on. Jeon already has your gaze when you look back to meet him, but he knows it’s time from your expression alone. With a small nod, he goes up to end the game on the machine’s screen. Instead of coming back to you, though, he subtly taps your arm as he walks past and heads off to the door of the main floor, disappearing from your sight. You wait for a good thirty seconds, let people pass across the camera view at random, before hopping down from the barstool to follow in his footsteps.

You find him waiting in a secluded hallway, away from crowds or casino-regulars. He looks solemn, back pressed against the wall, and you have a feeling that what he has to say might upset you. He thinks so, too.

“Listen, you have to make a decision now. Before we split up, because there’s a chance I might not see you after this.”

You shrug. “I haven’t decided yet.” His eyebrows draw together as he gives you a pleading expression. His eyes flick to both sides of the hall before coming back to you, releasing a deep breath before pushing his hair from his eyes.

“I gave you the time, Y/N. You have to before it’s too late.” Jeon gulps, fumbling for the words. “Just come with me, please. I know it’s a lot to ask and I know you’re scared but you can trust me. I can help you.”

“No, Gguk. You don’t get it - It’s not possible. It’s not an option.” You sigh in resignation. A depleted smile surfaces as you shake your head. “Not in this life.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You did it once, you can do it again.”

“I’m not… I- I won’t. Y/N, please…” His lip quivers, his eyes glossing over.

He can’t accept the answer your silence provides. It’s not enough, not something he’s willing to endure. If it’s going to be a no, he has to hear it loud and clear.

He purses his lips tight. “I’ll flip a coin then.”

“...What?”

“I’ll flip a coin. Heads, you come with me. Tails, I’ll go,” he says shakily, swallowing, “...and I’ll never speak to you again.”

Before you can stop him, he’s wiping away the tears that have not yet had the chance to escape and aggressively fishing a quarter from his pocket, placing it on the tip of his thumb. Desperation burns in him, but you’re paralyzed. All you can do is stare, a fish out of water being held in the grip of an angler who just can’t let go. Or maybe one that’s urging you back out to sea.

His thumb flicks and the coin flies, the sound barely audible in this corner of the building but piercing to your ears. It flips in the air, every rotation executed with purpose - in that moment, as its arc nearly completes, the thought strikes you like lightning and without a second thought, you hand reaches up and snatches it midair.

Jeon is awestruck. He searches for something to say as his fountain of hope runs dry.

Weakly, you mutter, “Okay.” Its compliance, but a strange relief that makes you feel guilty the second it washes over you.

“Okay?”

“I’ll come.”

A tight-lipped smile spreads on his face - it’s the best he can do after such stress. In a heartbeat, he embraces you tightly, broad shoulders enveloping your form. His grip is familiar and only full of good things, even if it might suffocate you. His long, wavy locks brush lightly against your jaw as he buries his face in your neck. For once, you let yourself have that rare moment of comfort. 

“I won’t let you down,” he says, a vocal assurance for himself maybe more than for you. He thinks that maybe he shouldn’t say it, but he has to. “I promise.” 

It’s his first small triumph tonight. If nothing else, it is a debt repaid. He won’t push for more. He pulls back, lets you fix your hair and readjust your dress.

“Let’s get a move on. I’ll search the main floor, you take a look around the building. Keep in touch.”

You’re about to turn away from him, but his arm catches your wrist at the last second. When you look back to see what he has to say, he has trouble finding the right words.

“Listen… Y/N, I don’t know what it is, but I have this awful feeling. And I’m trying to ignore it, I know I’m probably just nervous, but I just want you to know in case. You don’t have to say anything…”

The hair framing your face bounces as your head begins to shake, trying to deny him before he can even say it. “No, Gguk, I know-”

“No. I...I love you. And you gotta know that, no matter what happens.” His thumb traces small circles on the patch of skin where yours meets your index. Before you have a chance to respond, he gives your hand a tight squeeze and plants a chaste kiss to your cheek, lips plush and sweet against your dimple, his last action as your token of remembrance. 

He doesn’t know why he feels so frail as he walks away, wiping away the wetness leaking from his eyes as he tries to calm himself down. Maybe it’s the lack of information, maybe it’s you possibly being in danger again. He tries to push it down as he struggles to resist the urge to look back at you; He’s just all up in his head, right? You can defend yourself, you’ll be fine without him, he reassures himself. You can make rope from kitchen twine.

You’re stuck on your own as the distance between you grows, heart racing as your time to say it back runs out like sand in an hourglass. In less than seconds, his figure has already disappeared around the corner.

A delicate finger reaches up to press the small button on the spyware piece tucked behind your ear. The whisper is low but you mean every syllable, regardless of the leftover turmoil that has consistently tempted you into anger the past few years - “I love you, Jeongguk.”

It’s a shot in the dark for you without his physical presence, but he hears it. It’s barely audible, but he hears it, and rings in his mind for moments after. It makes him feel right, like the moment when everything sifts into the bowl perfectly, no clumps of doubt left behind in the minuscule metal crosshatches. Even if just for a few seconds, the feeling of relief stays frozen in time.

You’re on your way back to the main hall when a buzz from your purse alerts you to an unknown number calling your phone. Typically you’d let it ring, thinking it was spam - but considering this was an agency phone, that wouldn’t make much sense. Your finger hovers over the green accept button, hesitantly pressing down and lifting it to your ear. 

The response is immediate. “The Scorpion,” a man on the other end addresses you, sounding much too enthusiastic for your taste. His voice is masked with a changer, the tone fluctuating as he speaks. “I’m glad you could make it tonight. I’ve spent a lot to make this place nice.”

The theatrics elicit an impatient eye roll from you. “Who is this?”

“Who do you think? You’re a smart cookie. There’s a reason they call you the Scorpion, isn’t there?”

He lets the pause marinate and continues, “I actually wanted to meet with you. I need to discuss something vital to you in person, but you’ll have to do some things for me first.”

You begin to turn around, spinning on your heels and intent on heading to Jeongguk downstairs, but the voice on the phone stops you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You freeze, an eyebrow raising at the voice’s inquiry. Keen eyes scan quickly, landing on the faceless lens of a security camera - 

“It’s my casino. Of course I can see what you’re doing.”

A skeptical breath escapes you, squinting at the camera focused on your position. “...What do you want?”

“I just want to talk.” It’s casual.

“How do I know it’s not a trap?” “You don’t. But you don’t have any other option, really. If you need convincing… why don’t you check your home security?”

The dubious persona falters as your heart stops. It couldn’t be. You exit the call and open the app on your phone right away, and a sinking feeling hits you like a truck on the freeway, full speed and with reckless abandon. The view from the camera, grey and grainy, displays the apartment in pieces, furniture overthrown and papers scattered. The dread crawls up your spine as your worst nightmare, the one thing you always prayed for despite the lack of faith, comes to life; Penny is gone.

You call the number back.

“What now?” you say, jaw clenched. trying to calm your breathing.

“Take out your earpiece, toss it to the floor, and crush it. I need to protect my location somehow, right? Just a precaution.”

You slowly remove the receiver from its spot nestled in around your ear, thumbing the tiny matte black tech. It’s your connection to the outside, to safety. It’s your connection to Jeongguk. But the Falcon has played his cards right, leaving you with no other option. It falls from your fingertips, clatters to the linoleum, and you crush it underneath your heel.

“Now, your weapons. My guards will come to escort you - hand over your gun and any knives you may have on you. I know you’re sneaky, but now… really isn’t the time. I’ll see you in a bit.” A cold click ends the call and he’s gone.

On cue, two masked men dressed in all black emerge. They don’t frighten you, you know you could take them if you needed to. However, the priority is Penny, so you have to. You surrender your weapons and phone to them, and then they begin to shuffle you away to wherever the Falcon had made his nest.

Despite the nerves prickling like electric shocks, uneasiness itches in the back of your mind. Something about the phone call - was it the strange familiarity that made you feel so nauseous? You couldn’t quite place your finger on what was so off, on what about it pulled the alarm, but something besides the obvious situation at hand was wrong.

☆☆☆

Jeongguk doesn’t have much to go off of. He’s looking for something, anything, that can clue him in. He finds a creepy looking stairwell and decides to take it down. That’s how you find everything in need of being found, right? By following what feels off?

He comes to a storage room full of dusty metal shelves, all lined with boxes upon boxes. He takes a quick sweep of the room, shrugging to himself before delving into one. It’s just piles of text he doesn’t understand, pages and pages of orders and receipts dating back years and years. Maps of the building, information of repairs and inventory and renovations. It doesn’t mean anything useful, until he sees orders under names that ring a bell.

But from where? People he went to school with, maybe? For the life of him, he can’t remember where he knows them from.

He’s frantically flipping through pages, pulling boxes from the shelves and trying his best to read under the dim light. It’s not making any sense, until he lands on orders filed under the name… Jeon?

He freezes, all alone in the middle of a storage room full of thousands of documents, a sickly feeling washing over him.

A trembling hand reaches up to press the button on his earpiece.

“Y/N? I think I just found something.”

He waits, and no response from you.

“...Y/N?”

☆☆☆

The penthouse is in the heart of the city, just a few blocks away from the Belvedere. The view is enough to tell it to you - it overlooks miles of blinking lights and busy streets with which you have an archetypal love-hate relationship with. 

You’ve stepped fresh off the elevator into an open room that is in dire need of an interior decorator, or at the very least some basic furnishing. It’s basically empty, the dark hardwood floors even coated with a light layer of dust. Nothing except the moon and the fireplace at the other end of the room illuminate the space.

There’s shuffling, and the guards on either side of you are grabbing firmly onto your arms.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You struggle against them, fighting to get out of their grip, but one of them mutters how it’ll be better for you if you cooperate. You strain against the instinct to escape, every bone in your body screaming disgusted by the forced submission. Handcuffs click into place, and pressure on your shoulders pushes you to your knees. Then, they resign themselves to the back corners of the room.

A door creaks open at the far side of the room. The man sports a dark coat that obscures his figure, and long, dark hair hangs over the man’s face. His steps are slow and calculated on the wooden floor as he makes his way to the fire. Slender, practiced fingers grab onto the poker and stir the fire, glowing orange embers soaring in a blizzard of an inferno. A silver ring glints in the moonlight - one you’d recognize anywhere.

The details flood back, chains of connections like dominoes tipping over the edge of gut-wrenching betrayal - 

“...Boss?”

The man pauses, followed by a sudden clasp of his hands in… delight?

He spins on the heel of his oxfords to face you, hair sweeping back as he smiles at you.

“Keen as ever, my dear. You truly are the Scorpion. I know how you feel about your title, but you’re deserving of it.” 

A shaky breath leaves your throat, eyes stinging as you make out a low, “What is this?”

At the sight of your panic, the boss hurries over to you, making a show of how he takes your jaw in his hands. Though you flinch, he wipes the escaping tear with a calloused thumb.

“No, dear, no need to cry! This doesn’t have to be difficult. You are just leverage - you won’t be hurt as long as what needs to happen, happens.” The way he shakes his head, the twisted compassion in his eyes, makes you sick.

“Then where’s Penny?”

His sigh is accompanied by a sad smile. “Penny is the leverage over you. In case you get any funny ideas.”

“For what? What is this about?” you press, “What about the Syndicate, huh? Aren’t you gonna tell me what this is for?”

A rush of air, and then a sharp pressure on your throat. The Boss’s blade creeping up your throat - a small burn as he nicks your skin. 

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you. You should remember where your loyalties lie.”

You swallow thickly, and he continues.

“The Syndicate is real. Their presence in this city is real - but we are on good terms with them. I help them, they help me. They sacrifice a few men because they do what’s needed for the terms of the agreement, just like us.”

He blew up a building, ransacked the agency, led you on a wild goose chase in search of a threat that didn’t exist? There was always something psychotic about the Boss, that’s why he instilled so much fear in you - his lack of empathy, the lengths he’d go just for a show of power, but a ploy like this?

“And what’s that got to do with me?”

He scoffs. “It’s not about you, my dear. It never was. It’s about your connection to who it is about…”

His grin grows inverse to your pained frown, lips quivering as the realization dawns on you. “Jeongguk.”

“You’re the link, Y/N. I know how much you hate to love him. Only if you were forced to for the sake of the city. The reconnection wouldn’t be easy, but that boy is persistent, and the moment he heard you say those words back, it was sealed.”

You’re choked by the weight of his words crashing down on your throat. It’s horrifying, the way the tears well up and spill recklessly, finding it hard to breathe with your arms restrained. You focus your hardest on the effort to stay conscious, but the nausea is eating away at you.

“He was honest, too. He’s tried multiple times to fish you out of here. And it always rubbed me the wrong way. He’ll leave me behind, but not you? You’re my best, Y/N, but I despise you simply because of what your existence means.”

“You’re going to kill him?” you bite your lip to hold back the sob trying to crawl its way from your chest.

The Boss blinks, tilting his head in a faked compassion. “Only if he makes the same mistake again.”

An alert sounds out from his pocket. He fishes out his phone and holds it up to show you a map with a green dot steady on a location, seemingly yours.

“And it looks like we’ll find out right about… now.”

The elevator behind you opens, and the guards point their guns straight at the figure stepping off. His gun is held up protectively, but he has nowhere to go, face falling as he reads the situation - reads the pain on your face as you stare back at him on the floor.

He lowers his pistol, glaring at the man waiting smugly in front of him.

“Nice to see you again, Jeongguk.”

His lip turns down in disgust, spitting rancor - 

“Can’t say the same for myself, Dad.”

☆☆☆

The tension in the air is tight, like a thousand strings of yarn pinned wall to wall and floor to ceiling and impossible to maneuver. The Boss tsks at the cold reunion, more bitter than he had hoped. 

“What, you didn’t miss me all these years? I raised you, after all.”

“Raised me?” Jeongguk scoffs incredulously. “Try training me into your personal pawn, like some fucked up trophy for you to flaunt.”

“It was only so you could someday take my spot, son. I treated you the same way my father did me.”

The bitter timbre of his voice is laced with venom, so uncharacteristic of the Jeongguk you know. “Well, I worked out my daddy issues with a therapist. Maybe you should give it a shot. You should also probably mention how fucked up you are to plan a scheme like this just to bring me here.”

“You left, Jeongguk. I’d do anything for my son.”

“Oh, please-”

A loud click, and cool metal pressed against your forehead. Jeongguk freezes, and he knows the stakes. His blood boils from the blatant manipulation. There was a reason he left - he hated feeling this exact moment, and he hated reliving it even more. It was a place he thought he’d never be in again.

The Boss rolls his eyes again. “Always with something to say, forgetting I’m your elder, your father no less. Plan on letting me speak soon?”

His eyes are as cool as Jeongguk’s now. Dark, disappeared from dramatic frills or drawn-out tones. The resemblance is stunning, strikes fear in your heart, both physical and the mannerisms long-buried by time now resurfaced by each other.

When you meet the Boss’s eyes, they show no remorse for someone he claimed thinks of as his best.

Jeongguk’s eyes flick down and back up. Cooperation.

“Thank you.” He pulls the gun away, letting you catch a breath. “It’s simple, son. You agree to come back, and everything goes smoothly. If not, you won’t be leaving this room alive, and neither will she. Can’t have my trump cards playing against me.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“She’s the reason you’re here, how could I leave her out of this?”

“This is you and me. Not her.”

His father muses the idea, chews it up, spits it out. “Okay,” he grins. “Just us. I’d say go until one surrenders, but that’s not how us Jeons do it. If you can kill me, you’re free to do what you want.”

The guards lower their weapons, leaving the room at a snap of the Boss’s fingers, and Jeongguk’s grip on his tightens, knuckles turning white as he nods sharply in agreement. He’s been caught, a three-year-long game of cat and mouse finally come to a standstill. The man he looks at is just another cruel, cold-hearted crook on a power trip. The last thing he wants to do is fight him, because as skilled as Jeongguk might be, his father is equally such. He also has the upper hand: No feelings of remorse.

But he sees you on the floor, and when it comes to your life on the line, he knows he’d do anything. No matter the risk or the cost, he’d play a losing hand if he had to, if just to keep the fear from your mind. He steps past you, eyes speaking of reassurance when they meet yours, but it’s not a promise. 

Once Jeongguk has made his way around you to the center of the room, the Boss’s attention falls to you.

“Hear that, dear? This is a family issue. But in case you need any more convincing…”

The same door he creaked through minutes ago flies open, and in shuffles two people. Penny’s figure mirrors your own, arms tied behind her back. Her eyes are red and puffy, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled. There’s no blood or bruising visible, but it kills you the second you lay eyes on her. Your chest heaves silently, panic rising as she is brought in front of the fireplace, led by… Yeji?

The sleek, dark ponytail is unmistakable, and her cat eyes flick over to you in guilt as your words confirm her presence.

“I’m sorry,” she mouths, tears clouding her eyes. “I didn’t know.”

It was impossible to believe how easily everything was collapsing. Maybe your foundations were not as strong as you once thought. Wasn’t it just a week ago you had last spoken to her, taken her advice on working with Jeongguk?

“Again. No need for anyone to get hurt as long as you don’t interfere.”

But would Yeji hurt Penny, even at the Boss’s command? Was she that scared of him? Penny finds you, and you try your best to communicate reassurance, but you fall short. She trembles in fear the same as you.

Without warning, the Boss’s blade flies across the room. Jeongguk side steps, but the red gash sliced along his cheek taunts him for being a second too late. He reaches up a finger to dab at the blood in awe.

His anger fuels him forward. He raises his gun, ringing out shots that bury themselves in the drywall as he closes the gap. The Boss dodges each one. Slender fingers pull the gun from its holster, firing back immediately, glass shattering behind the younger.

Jeongguk zig zags on his feet, blade swinging up viciously at his father while he pulls the trigger in his left hand. The Boss is quick despite his age, no hesitation to his wide, ruthless swings. Jeongguk ducks and spins, changing their positions, knocking a knife from his grasp.

The man laughs. “That was good, but you can do better!” he yells, evading Jeongguk’s relentless swipes. As he taunts, a shard of glass reaches your vicinity. “Or are you too scared to hurt your old man?”

Your fingers bleed hot as you force the shard into the keylock, lifting up the metal lever.

It only fuels Jeongguk’s fire. A firm kick to the chest sends the Boss stumbling back. Jeongguk progresses, his knife dropping around in his grip, taking the slim moment to drive a sharp ice pick stab to his father's shoulder.

His eyes flick to you, and he doesn’t have the time to pull it back out. His father parries his left wrist outward and the gun is knocked from his fingertips, skidding to the floor, arriving kindly right in front of you. A single shot blasts out and Jeongguk lets out a clipped yelp. Your wrists free from the lock and reach for the solution just inches away.

But it’s already checkmate. The Boss’ blade is pressed up against Jeongguk’s throat, who is on his knees as he clutches at his thigh, crimson seeping through his fingers.

“Has the Lion been tamed since I last saw him?” The Boss mocks. There is nowhere for Jeongguk to go. “I’m disappointed, son. Love has made you weak.”

It steals the breath from your lungs. His eyes dart to your figure, mirroring his son’s actions just moments ago. He dares you to make a move. With his play, you can’t.

But that’s where the Boss is wrong. The man void of love sees it as a shot with a predetermined course from point A to point B, easily interfered with by the right tools, by the right move. However, love should not be mistaken for something meager. It’s an ever-weaving thread, crossing and connecting each and every way. Love does not have to be star-crossed and dire, it is not always a fated, tragic romance. There is no one love to outlast all others - not when it can be one you choose.

Yeji meets your eyes from across the room. The Boss has only a bluff catcher against her, the mistake of expecting loyalty before knowing for sure. It’s a twisted collusion that you never would have chosen, but it’s not your hand to play anymore.

Her vision is blurry through her tears. Yeji takes a breath she’s sure will be her last and releases it shakily. She has to do it now. She thinks of every other woman roped into his scheme, every future Penny that will be taken if it doesn’t end here, and she knows you can do it, because she was never strong enough to.

“Forgive me,” she croaks. 

An enraged bellow leaves the Boss, but all too late. She has already fired, breaking the lock that has held you captive all these years. A scream rips from your throat as Penny’s body falls forward and collapses to the hardwood.

Yeji is shredded by the entourage of bullets ripping from the Boss’s gun. She stumbles back, hits the wall, sinks to the floor.

Your hands instinctively reach for the weapon in front of you, hands fumbling as you pull the trigger with the weight of a thousand lives behind your index alone. The Boss falls, knife slipping from his fleeting grip, the third and final seal to the game.

The silence is stunning. Nothing feels real. It’s all shock before the pain rushes in, the inability to breath, the feeling of drowning. It’s utter anguish as you fight to the other side of the room, but Jeongguk holds you back. Pushing past him, only for him to spin you around and make you look him in the eye.

“We have to go,” he says through gritted teeth, voice cracking. His eyes plead with you as they blink away tears. Blood coats his hands, urgently dripping down his wrists as they grip yours. “Y/N, we have to go.”

 It dawns just as the day on the glowing horizon behind him that it’s over, but there is no victory in sight.

☆☆☆

The coming days are a whirlwind. Most of the time you’re numb, finding yourself stuck in your mind replaying memories over and over, and wincing to pull yourself out of them to the real world that is not much better. The funerals are a blur, long and tiring processions of black and sympathies you are not capable of accepting that leave your head pounding by the time you finally can sleep. But the dream world is not as kind to you as you would have hoped. 

It isn’t the memory of her death. It’s the memory of her smile, bright and tender, that could not see another day to shine. You haven’t stepped foot in the apartment yet. You will at some point, but not yet.

Yeji is another story. It’s a moral dilemma of what your inner compass tells you is wrong and your love for the only friend you ever had. Yeji was not bad, you know that. But it was murder, and perhaps that was why it did not go unpunished. Were her actions the results of weakness, or strength? Of personal desire, or wide-scale consideration? You could spend hours wondering whether things might have been different if she hadn’t done it, but at the end of the day, you would never get the chance to know. 

In the meantime, the mafia is collapsing. Those who wanted to leave took their chance the second the news of the Boss’s death came in. Ran away to other cities, shelters, anywhere they could to get away from the struggle of the organization. Others who had nothing else are stranded picking up the pieces. They won’t be able to make a comeback, you know that. They’ll turn to other forms of crime, maybe even those that you’ll have to face again in the future.

You can get away from it all for a few moments of peace, but not much more.

Jeongguk’s apartment is close to the marina. He’s lucky for such a beautiful view. This early in the morning, the world is silent, relaxing without the mindless bustling of life. Boats float calmly across the harbor, sails reaching up to the sky streaked with blossoming pinks and clement oranges. Daybreak’s retiring light glitters as it touches the surface of the water with a gentle hand.

The glass door slides open slowly behind you, and Jeongguk’s presence enters to calm your thoughts. The slight limp in his step is barely visible, and he’s lucky that his father’s bullet avoided his femoral artery. If it did, he’d probably be in a much more dire situation than he has now. Since that night, rumors have surfaced that the Boss missed due to nervousness, or fear. Jeongguk knows that his father’s aim was too sharp to miss, and also that he was a hypocrite.

He takes a seat in the chair beside yours. His hair is mussed from a long night of tossing and turning, the same as yours.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you mutter, tongue coated with exhaust.

He hums. “Me neither.”

The flux of air from his sturdy chest is a comfort that relieves the pain for just a little while. Lifts it away like a fog being cleared, and the weight falls off your shoulders so you can breathe again. His eyes swim with affection, and you’re sure that a thousand particles of stardust must be locked away behind his irises.

It never fails to amaze you how Jeongguk always seems to know what you’re thinking. “It’s not your fault,” he says.

“I know.” It’s weak, barely a whisper. Your head drops to your palms despite your claim. “But it really feels like it.”

He takes a deep breath, atmosphere placid and unassuming. “You did everything you could. Some things are just out of your control, no matter what you do. It’s not fair, but just because you couldn’t stop something bad from happening doesn’t mean you caused it.”

You swallow blearily. “I just don’t even know where to go from here. It’s never going to be the same. So what do I do now?”

“I don’t know,” he speaks gingerly, “Maybe you should get out of here. Start again, somewhere else. I’ll probably do the same eventually.”

Your head begins to shake at the thought.

“I don’t want you to go,” you pause. “I told you that.”

Jeongguk softens. “Oh… okay. I, I won’t then.”

Finally, your head raises to see him properly. His calm guise masks the need of reassurance beneath. “I mean it. Do you remember when you said to tell you the next time so it didn’t land on what I didn’t want?”

He nods slowly.

“When it was in the air, there was just this split second watching it that it hit me. I knew what I wanted. Despite everything,” the corners of your mouth upturn, but not all that happily, “I wanted to choose you.”

Dark, wavy hair falls in front of his eyes, brushing at the healing cut that will certainly leave a scar. His gaze is tender and soft and all that’s good in this world. He looks at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. And if you asked him, he wouldn’t hesitate to agree.

“I forgive you, Jeongguk. For everything, I don’t care. I’d go through it again and again if I had to.” A fleeting smile pushes the tears from their deep wells. “‘Cause I need you.”

Jeongguk suffered the subtle heartbreak of unknowing for years on end. He’d sit on his balcony just like this, mild evenings under the setting sun, knowing you were out there living under the same sky as him, yet so far apart. He thought of you crossing city streets, breathing the air of the home you loved and hated simultaneously, maybe even sitting out on the fire escape of your own apartment. You were within a radius of just miles, which sounds like nothing compared to how far he’d go for you. 

He saw you everywhere. Saw you in every crevice and crack of the city. When the sun was shining brightly, when rain poured like bullets. From the window of the train, from the coffee shop. Retracing his routine steps was hard when he always saw your footprints right beside his own.

It was the feeling he’d been waiting on. At last, he feels contentment in his chest. It’s all he’s ever wanted. His pulse stutters as he thinks that he might just be dreaming, but when he reaches out to touch your clasped hands, steady fingers curling over yours, he knows it’s real. You’re real. It’s pure, unadulterated sunshine splintering over his soul.

Jeongguk stands, holding out his hand for you to take. He pulls you up with care and tugs you into his embrace, warm and kind. His arms around you are safe and sound, and the gentle beat of his heart eases the noise in your mind. It’s the heart that wouldn’t quit on you, the one the angels must either admire or envy. It’s the only thing that feels okay.

One day, things will be better. It’s far away and hard to grasp, but it’s there, waiting for you. Things that are meant to be will find a way, no matter how long it takes, just as Jeongguk and you found your way to this very balcony. But for now, sharing the weight of a heavy heart soothes the lonesome burden of loss, and what it means to love.

[sparkandwolf]

I Know You (read on ao3)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale Rating: General Summary: “I thought I’d find you here,” Derek said, placing a gentle kiss on Stiles’ temple. He could barely feel Derek’s lips through the thick hair he had let grow during his senior year. He was never expecting to rid himself of his signature buzz cut, but it wasn’t exactly a priority when battling the danger they so often faced.

“Am I that obvious?” Stiles asked.

“To me,” Derek said simply, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder.

For @sterekvalentineweek day one: Hopeless Romantic

Stiles sat on the hood of his jeep, staring up at the school that had been both his nightmare and his home for the last four years. There were so many memories that surged through his mind when he read the bold letters that had been fixed too many times for him to count. 

Beacon Hills High School.

He thought back to the first day he had attended, still harboring a ridiculous crush on a girl way out of his league and ready for four years of being no one with his best friend. He never realized how much his life would change. He no longer loved Lydia - not in the obsessive way he had when he was a kid, at least - and he and Scott were no longer nobodies to anyone who mattered. 

And there were more people who mattered to Stiles than when he started his high school adventure. As if on cue, soft footsteps crushed the pavement behind him. He would usually jump to the ready, grab his trusty baseball bat for protection, but he recognized the cool cologne wafting toward him and the warm body that slid beside him that fit as perfectly as it always had. 

“Derek,” Stiles sighed happily, leaning into the arm that found its way around his shoulder. He breathed in Derek’s scent but didn’t look over at him, still taking in the building in front of him. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” Derek said, placing a gentle kiss on Stiles’ temple. He could barely feel Derek’s lips through the thick hair he had let grow during his senior year. He was never expecting to rid himself of his signature buzz cut, but it wasn’t exactly a priority when battling the danger they so often faced. 

“Am I that obvious?” Stiles asked. 

“To me,” Derek said simply, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles found himself blushing at the admission. Derek had been the biggest surprise to come out of his four crazy years. His best friend turned into a werewolf, he had seen multiple dead bodies and defeated the evilest creatures he couldn’t even believe existed, and still, falling in love with Derek was something he never thought would happen. 

“Yeah?” Stiles whispered, leaning his cheek against the leather jacket he still hadn’t gotten Derek to stop wearing. Not that he really minded. He pulled it off better than anyone else really could. 

“In fact, I know a lot about you, Stiles,” Derek began, sliding off the front of the jeep until he stood face to face with Stiles. “I know that graduating is something you should be celebrating with the pack instead of sitting here on your own. I know that you’re probably worried to be at your house because your dad is gonna be a sentimental mess after today. I know that when you come to the school, it’s because you’re trying to remember every single thing you can because deep down you worry about losing it all.” 

Stiles shook his head, prepared to argue, “That’s not--” He stopped himself, though, seeing a seriousness in Derek’s eyes he didn’t expect. “Is everything okay?” Derek nodded and took Stiles’ hands in his, licking his lips as he huffed out a nervous laugh. 

“I come here sometimes, too. I go to that spot in the preserve where I first met you and Scott, I go to the police station to check in with your dad so we can both keep an eye on you.” Stiles raised his eyebrows but stayed silent. As much as he wanted to argue against that, too, Derek seemed like he had something to get off of his chest. “I go to your house and sneak in your window like I used to before you realized how ridiculously in love with you I was, and I come here. This place that kept you marginally safe during the day so that I had time to sleep and try not to focus on you.” 

“I kept myself safe just fine, thank you very much,” Stiles said, but there was no heat in it. His heart was too full and his stomach tumbling with nerves as Derek stared over at him with so much love in his eyes, he couldn’t find it in myself to be angry. 

“You did, didn’t you?” Derek considered, rubbing his palms on Stiles’ thighs before holding onto the edges of his jacket like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“What’s up with you?” Stiles asked, reaching up to cup Derek’s face softly. He leaned into Stiles’ touch and his eyes settled closed before he took a deep breath.

“I know you have plans. Big plans that mean moving away from here, from the pack. I don’t want to-- I would never want you to change those. You have proven to yourself and everyone around you that you’re so much more than this town has to offer and--” Derek gulped and reached into his pocket blindly, never taking his eyes away from Stiles’ that widened with every passing second. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles whispered, momentarily stunned as Derek knelt down on one knee, gazing up at Stiles with such passion in his eyes, Stiles almost gasped with the emotion behind it. “Derek…” 

“I talked to your dad. I mean, I talk to your dad often, but I-- I asked him when I could propose to you. He suggested - well, more like threatened me within an inch of my life - to wait until after graduation or at least until after you turned 18.” He pulled out a bright red box from his pocket and opened it slowly, revealing the most stunning ring Stiles had ever seen. There were two black bands surrounding a dark wooden center and the style of it matched both of them perfectly. 

“You’re serious?” Stiles asked from where he sat unmoving on the hood of the jeep. He was torn between launching at Derek and kissing the life out of him and staying frozen in place until he was sure Derek wasn’t playing a disastrously unfunny joke on him. 

“I had this whole plan to do up the loft with these fancy lights and bouquets of roses or some other romantic flower and have soft country music in the background--” 

“You hate country music,” Stiles interrupted. Derek beamed at him. 

“I do. But you love it, right?” Derek pointed out and Stiles could only nod. “We know each other, Stiles, and I knew that you wouldn’t want some ridiculously cheesy proposal that probably would’ve been destroyed by something with our luck.” Stiles let out a surprising laugh that brought him out of his shocked stupor. 

“And what did you decide on instead?” Stiles asked slowly, sliding off of the jeep so he stood in front of Derek, resting a hand on his shoulder to urge him to continue only so Stiles could say yes. 

“Well, I went to Scott’s, thinking you would be there and he said you had left about an hour ago. Then I went to your dad’s and he talked me out of panic after he got over blubbering about you graduating and then said that you hadn’t come home. I knew you had to be here,” Derek explained. Stiles saw his fingers trembling and it was so out of the ordinary, he wasn’t sure what to say. “I wasn’t going to do this here, at a place where more bad things happened than good, but--” 

“It makes sense for us,” Stiles chimed in again, glancing over Derek’s head to stare at the broken sign he would never have to see again if he didn’t want to. “Every place in this town is filled with horrible memories, Derek. I would literally bet you to find a place that one of us hasn’t gotten hurt or someone hasn’t died,” Stiles huffed out a laugh and gazed back down at Derek. “This makes sense because this is the best memory we could possibly make at the place where the worst possible things have happened.” Stiles took a deep breath in and pulled Derek to standing so they were eye to eye and he could see the happiness on Stiles’ face. “Ask me, Derek,” he demanded. 

Derek let out a choked laugh that Stiles thought held unshed tears and whispered, “Will you marry me, Stiles? Make me the happiest man in Beacon Hills?” 

“Before I say yes, I’m gonna make fun of you for being such a hopeless romantic for the rest of our lives, you know that right?” Derek rolled his eyes and playfully smacked Stiles’ cheek before the gravity of Stiles’ words seemed to register in his brain. 

“But there’s a yes in there?” Derek asked, his smile breaking through any annoyance he might have felt for Stiles as it usually did. 

“There’s an emphatic yes in there, you idiot,” Stiles said and before he could speak any more, he surged into Derek’s arms and captured Derek’s lips in his. They had kissed hundreds of times before and each one had his heart stuttering more than the last but Stiles wasn’t sure if any would ever top that one. When they finally pulled away to breathe, Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand and slid the ring onto his finger. Stiles held his hand out to take it all in and felt his own tears spring into his eyes. 

“Now who’s the hopeless romantic?” Derek asked, wiping the one stray tear that escaped from Stiles’ cheek. Stiles shoved at his shoulder but grabbed his jacket to pull him closer before he could stray too far. 

“Still you, buddy, because I bet if we go to your loft to secure this engagement, there’s gonna be lights and roses decorating the entire place.” Derek flushed and stared up at the sky for a moment before leveling his eyes with Stiles’. 

“And how do you know that, Stiles?” Derek asked, holding Stiles delicately in his arms as if afraid the moment would be broken if they weren’t attached. 

“Because I know you, Derek, and I love you.” The words were far too simple, but Stiles didn’t know what else to say. Derek was right; they knew each other and loved each other more than Stiles had ever imagined. He glanced up at the school that had haunted him and for the first time in four years, he smiled. 

[sassy-pelican]

Caught

Paring: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Premise: Seb catches the garter. You catch the bouquet. 

Warnings: a lesbian wedding, language, um age gap (no specefic’s mentioned but reader and one bride are younger), allusions to sexy times

A/N: This was based on a private request. My first ever! Also, we are going to pretend this is not happening in the midst of a pandemic and Seb and Reader aren’t idiots who are going to a large wedding during this time. 

I have been to exactly one wedding. And I don’t remember any of it. Singing also results in people thinking I’m crying so … I don’t know how to do that. We’re also pretending that this is a lesbian wedding (beacuse representation y’all) with a butch wife and girly wife because I live for that asthetic (not because I want a butch girlfriend or whatever or sometimes want to be the butch girlfriend, definely not that). Basically I have been given permission to write my dream lesbian wedding and I am running with it. I’m naming the couple but if you wish to pretend it’s something different go right ahead.

I also don’t know what kind of music is sung at weddings so I am picking my own kind. The song the reader is singing is More Than Words by Little Mix (with pronoun adaptations). 

So this kinda ran away from me and I certainly didn’t intend for this to have as many sexual jokes and situations that it does but it happened. 

This is unedited. Enjoy.

“Sebastian Stan x (non actress)reader where they met at their common friend's wedding and reader was the wedding singer as well, and for some fate Seb caught the garter and reader caught the bouquet”

Tagging: @cap-n-ce​​ becasue this wonderful human requested this.

Considering that Natalie and Kate told you this wedding was only close friends and family you were surprised to see over a hundred people there. It wasn’t a problem really, just not what you were expecting. Even at the rehearsal there weren’t this many people. 

“You’ll be fine,” your bandmate and fellow singer tonight, Steph says. “You always are.”

“I know.”

“You’ve got the song down and they love you. Natalie wouldn’t have asked you to do this if she didn’t believe in you fully.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about. Natalie and Kate will be fine no matter what, nothing phases them. The crowd is a different story.”

“The actual wedding is over, it’s just the reception now,” she says. “The hard part’s over.”

You roll your eyes. She is right. You’d already done the important stuff during the ceremony, which was more beautiful than you ever imagined. Everything decked out in pinks, purples, and blues, or as they called it - a pastel rainbow. You thought the colorful bottom of the dress and lapels of Kate’s suit were a nice touch. 

“Let’s kill it,” Steph says. 

“Let’s.”

Stepping out from behind the curtain, preparing for their first dance you. Steph’s words ring out as you sing harmony, filling the background as the music plays. Every eye either on you two or the bride and bride. 

“When the sea, when the seasons change and the and the sun shines on-on your face yeah, I-I-I’ll be there with you, you you, you,” the words fall from your lips perfectly. 

Steph looks to you as she sings, “You’re a part, you’re a part of me now ju-ju-just as mu-mu-much as I’m a part of you.”

Facing the dancing couple, both beaming, you continue to sing, this time together. “I find peace in every story you told. I think of you, I’ll never be alone. It’s true, true, true. You know I do, do, do.”

“Oh, I need you more than words can say. Girl, you save me in ways that I can’t explain. Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same. Oh, I need you more than words can say.”

“Won’t forget, won’t forget, won’t forget when she bro-o-oke my heart. Ho-o-ow you helped me through,” Steph sings, the dance slowly becoming more free. 

“You turned, you turned, you turned a disaster into a dream. Gave me the power, made my life band ne-e-ew,” you sing. 

“When the world try to break us, we found magic. And we grew stronger, through every line, line, l-line, line, line,”

“Every night, every night, every night I’ll stand and sing with you. Now-now they know they gon’ be alright, alright,” by now the lyrics are flowing from your lips with ease. Both you and Steph are dancing as you belt out the song. 

“I find peace in every story you told. I think of you, I’ll never be alone. It’s true, true, true. You know I do, do, do.

“Oh, I need you more than words can say. Girl, you save me in ways that I can’t explain. Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same. Oh, I need you more than words can say.”

“I found peace in every story you told,” Steph sings. 

“I think of you, I’ll never be alone.”

“Oh, it’s true.”

“You know I do,” you sing. 

“Oh, I need you more than words can say. Girl, you save me in ways that I can’t explain. Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same. Oh, I need you more than words can say.”

“Oh, I need you more than words can say,” you finish.

~~~

As Kate bends down to peel the garter off her now wife, you catch someone looking at you. Sure, you knew they invited him, but just coming off a high from the song you didn’t notice him before now. Sebastian Stan was eye candy in every sense of the word. Natalie even admitted to both you and Kate that if she liked men, he’d be her type. 

Still, even hearing the embarrassing stories Kate had from when they grew up, long before you and Natalie even entered the picture, didn’t deter you from your crush. Of course it didn’t help that you were half in love with James Barnes. 

“He’s watching you,” Steph whispers in your ear, to which you twitch. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss “You know I hate it when you do that.” She knew you hated when people whispered in your ear, it tickled and you hated being tickled.

“I bet you’d like it if he did it,” she teases. “Maybe while fucking you.”

You glare at her. “I’m trying to enjoy my two sexy friends having a sexy moment in front of a crowd.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so preoccupied with that,” Steph quips. “You’d be having hot wedding sex in the bathroom.”

“Hey!” you whisper-yell, “I’m only a slut sometimes.”

Kate tossed the piece of fabric and elastic in the blink of an eye, all while Natalie looked on with a slightly dazed look in her eyes, and you know that whatever took so long wasn’t innocent. It doesn’t escape your notice that Sebastian casually catches the garment and winks at you. If you weren’t a strong independent woman, you might have melted. As it was, your knees felt weak. 

“Time for the bouquet!” Natalie yells, and you sigh. Personally you never got much out of the garter and bouquet tradition. It didn’t mean anything, not really. It was just a stupid thing to put pressure on people to get married. 

Standing in the back of the crowd of guests waiting impatiently for the flowers to become airborne, you hope it never reaches you. You can feel Sebastian’s eyes on you as you take your place though, and you can almost feel the disappointment in his gaze. 

They’d told everyone upfront that the lucky ‘winners’ of the tosses were to dance together at the party. And you wanted to dance with Sebastian, just not because of a stupid game. You wanted to do a lot more than dance with him if you were being honest. 

You see it enter your peripheral vision and before you can think, you put your hand up. Fingers clasp around the group of stems making up the bouquet. Shit. Smirk adorning his face, Sebastian walks up to you. 

“Think that’s our cue,” he says, leading you out to the dance floor, where Kate and Natalie are already starting to dance again. Everyone starts to disperse, as the brides stare you down, waiting expectantly.

“Think you can keep up Stan?”

“Think you can?”

~~~

He was right. You could hardly keep up with him. You’d lost count of the dances you had with him. It seemed like he refused to dance with anyone else and didn’t seem keen on giving either of you a break. 

“Sebastian,” you gasp. “I need to sit down.”

“Can’t keep up?” he teases, pulling you close, hand brushing the top of your ass. 

“Hell no,” you admit. “I don’t know what Marvel puts in your workouts but it’s more than what’s in mine.”

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound as melodic as any music you sing. And suddenly all you want to do is lick up the column of his throat. 

“Alright,” he concedes. 

You pull off your heels as you sit on one the unoccupied chairs lining the walls. “You know, for an old man you’re very spry.”

“Pulling that card are you?”

“Yep,” you reply, rubbing your feet. 

“Let me,” he says, offering his own hands, much larger than yours to massage the knots out. You would never ask, but given that he’s offering, you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

A few kneads in and a very sexual moan slips out of your mouth. 

“Have a fetish you don’t know about?” he teases, still massaging. 

“No,” you say, trying not to moan again. “My feet just really hurt. If you ever try to rub my feet while we fuck I will kick you out.” Your eyes shoot open, realizing what you said. 

“Planning on fucking me are you?”

You can’t gage the look on his face. “Um … I’m sor-”

“Good,” he says, setting your foot down and pulling your chair closer to his. “I was planning on fucking you too.”

The air around you is charged with sexual energy. “Think it’d be rude if we left?” you ask him. 

“If you don’t I’m going to gag,” Steph says from the chair behind you and you can’t stop the laugh from coming out. 

Sebastian just sits there, pure shock on his face. “Well don’t stop the sexy talk on accound of me,” she says, “I’m not shy about being a voyeur.”

“Steph!” you scold. 

“Oh fine,” she says. “But I come back and you’re both here,” she wiggles her eyebrows before leaving you alone with a shell shocked Sebastian. 

“So,” you say, biting your lip. “Want to take her advice, minus the voyeur part?”

“Only if you can keep up this time,” he says, slipping out of his awkward stupor faster than you could imagine. 

“Guess we’ll find out.”

2 Years Later

“You know,” you say as Sebastian looks at you from between your legs. “I never would have agreed to go home with you if I knew it’d lead me here.”

“Where, our wedding?”

“Damn right,” you say. “If I had it my way, we’d be going to the courthouse.”

“Yes, babe I know,” he says. “But let me take this off with my teeth will you, everyone is staring.”

“Oh fine,” you say. “But I am going to throw that bouquet with hate not love.”

“Yes dear,” he mocks you. Both of you know every word is a lie, but it helps your nerves. Having him this close to where you’re aching for him in front of a crowd, Steph smirking the entire time at you while Natalie and Kate beam, is a lot. 

You bite back a gasp as he presses his face against you, kissing you lightly where you want him for hours, before moving down to take the elastic band off. “Fuck you Stan,” you whisper through your teeth. 

“You will be,” he whispers. “Mrs. Stan.”

[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 5

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: Mentions of an ear infection and vomit (doesn’t know if that needs a warning though)

Wordcount: 4k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Henry made reservations at a place where I’ve never been to. It’s fancy, yet cosy and probably insanely expensive. He told me not to worry about it for a single second, but that’s easier said than done. Every sip I take of my wine and every bite I take of the pasta, I can almost hear coins clattering somewhere in the background.

‘I never knew you had tattoos,’ Henry says eventually.

I stare down at my arm, after I rolled up my sleeve, since it’s pretty hot in here. ‘Yeah, I usually cover them up. My boss doesn’t think it’s professional.’ I hold out my arm, to show him the inside of my arm. ‘Vanessa likes to color them,’ I say, point to some where you can see a faint hint of colors, in the outline of a few flowers.

Henry gently holds my wrist. He hand nearly engulfs my wrist, only adding fuel to the  fact that Henry is a lot bigger than me fact. ‘I like this one,’ he says, his thumb caressing the tattoo of Vanessa’s name and date of birth. ‘I always thought that if I ever had kids, I’d tattoo their names somewhere.’

Of course he would do that. That seems like the biggest dad move and it would fit him perfectly. He doesn’t have tattoos, but knowing that the name of his kid would be the first, is something that makes my heart flutter.

‘Do these tattoos have any sort of meaning?’ he asks, after he let go of my wrist.

I shrug. ‘Not really. My ex was really into having tons of tattoos and I kind of went with it. I also did it to piss off my mom.’

‘Did you succeed?’

‘Of course I did,’ I laugh. ‘She hated them with a passion, but since I was already in college, she couldn’t really say anything about it. Besides, it wasn’t like I started smoking weed again, so she was kind of grateful in the end.’

‘You used to smoke?’ he asks, his eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets in disbelieve.

I chuckle. ‘I did, when I was around sixteen. I did it for like a year.’

‘Damn, doctor Olivia Tran is a total bad ass,’ Henry laughs, his eyes smiling as well.

‘You never smoked weed?’ I ask in disbelieve. ‘Mister Cavill, I’m deeply disappointed in you.’

‘I’m very sorry.’ Henry takes a sip of his wine. ‘Why did you want to become a vet?’

‘I was always obsessed with animals,’ I confess. ‘At home we never had pets. My mom thought dogs were disgusting, because they lick themselves and my dad is allergic to cats. My brother Jesse once had a fish, but he died within twenty four hours after he bought him, so he was traumatized and my other brother Levi hated animals in general, so yeah… No pets in the Tran household. My friends all had animals and I would love them when I visited. I even became a dog walker for awhile and professional animal sitter when our neighbors went on a holiday.’

‘Impressive,’ he notes. ‘How old are your brothers?’

‘Right now they are thirty seven and thirty four,’ I try to remember.

‘You have any idea how they are right now?’

I shake my head, all of the sudden feeling a bit of an emptiness in my heart. Growing up my brothers and I were so close. I was their little sister, their princess. It’s still beyond me that something like that could change within a heartbeat. ‘No idea,’ I admit. ‘My brothers aren’t the biggest fans of social media and I’m not going to cave and talk to them first. Not after what they did.’

Henry sits up a bit more straight and leans a bit forward, placing his hand on mine. His thumb caresses my fingers. Normally I’m not too keen on people touching me, but this feels so familiar, so safe. ‘I understand,’ he says. ‘I can’t believe your family ditched you just like that.’

‘Would your family have done that?’ I quietly ask.

He shakes his head. ‘Absolutely not,’ he says. ‘They would’ve loved the kid.’

‘Must be nice to have a family like that.’

He shrugs, probably not wanting to hurt my feelings.

‘Sometimes I wished I could’ve give Vanessa that type of family,’ I admit, without even thinking about it. I turn my hand around, so our palms touch each other. It feels even more intimate. ‘She wonders why she doesn’t have a dad or grandparents or uncles.’

‘What do you say to her?’ he wonders.

‘That her father doesn’t want her and that my side of the family didn’t like it, when I got pregnant with her.’

‘That must be pretty hard for her, right?’

I nod. ‘Belle told me that she didn’t think it was right for me to say it as bluntly as I did, but I don’t want to lie to her. Besides, what do I have to tell Vanessa? I don’t know who your dad is? I don’t have a family?’

‘Right,’ Henry says, frowning a bit in the process.

I don’t want to talk about this anymore, because my family is one of the biggest disappointments in my life. ‘Vanessa was really happy when I told her you asked me out,’ I say, seeing his face light up when I mentioned it. ‘I picked her up from school today and when I told her, she insisted on helping me pick out an outfit.’

‘She picked this out?’ he asks.

‘Only the shoes.’

‘I should thank her, then.’

I stick out my tongue, before I burst out in laughter.

‘Have you dated since you had Vanessa?’ he asks.

‘I haven’t,’ I confess. ‘I actually swore to myself that I’d ban men all together out of my life, unless Keanu Reeves came knocking at my door.’

Henry brings a hand to his lips, to suppress some laughter, but he fails miserably. ‘And yet you agreed on going on a date with me.’

‘Guess I have a thing for handsome men with chubby dogs.’

He lets out a chuckle. ‘Good thing I have a thing for veterinarians who drag me across the examination room after I passed out.’

I snicker. ‘I do have to ask you something,’ I say, before taking a sip of his wine. It would be a lot more practical if I could use the other hand as well, but I want to touch his hand so badly, that this is a discomfort I’ll endure. ‘Why me?’

His frown shows me that he doesn’t understand.

‘Why did you ask me out?’

Henry smiles. ‘I would be an idiot if I let you slip through my fingers, wouldn’t I?’

‘How romantic,’ I chuckle.

‘It’s true,’ he simply states. ‘I admire you in such a way… You are an amazing vet, an extraordinary mother and just a wonderful woman in general. I have never met someone quite like you, Olivia. You are truly one of a kind.’

When was the last time someone said something like that to me? I dated Wesley for five years, but not once was anything he said to me, this kind of romantic. He always mentioned my looks, how my body looked, but never about my qualities.

I clear my throat. ‘So, the whole I have a kid thing doesn’t bother you?’

‘Why would that bother me?’

Does he need to be this perfect? I cock an eyebrow, before I say: ‘Because guys are usually scared off when there is a child in the mix.’

Henry shrugs, also taking a sip of his wine. ‘Guess I’m not like other guys then. It really doesn’t matter to me,’ he says. ‘I like you, with or without a kid. Besides, Vanessa is a wonderful girl. You are doing such an excellent job with her,’ he continues. ‘You are raising her so well. She is polite, smart and is such a unique girl in general. I don’t think I’ve ever met a kid that age like her.’

‘Shut up, Henry,’ I say, dapping the corners of my eye dry, hoping to prevent myself from bursting out in tears.

‘I mean it, though,’ he whispers.

During dinner, he finds out a lot about me. He was impressed when I told him I used to be pretty active in gymnastics, but had to quit due to a nasty knee injury when I was thirteen. About the fact that I was forced to play piano as a kid, but somehow ended up playing a bit of guitar and how I still want to pick that up again, but barely have time.

I find out that he is really close to his brothers and his parents, something that is lovely for him, but makes me a bit jealous. I wish I had that. But also, that he has difficulties picking up acting again.

‘Why?’ I ask.

‘That last movie I did, was the biggest flop in Hollywood.’

I bet he is exaggerating, but I keep my mouth shut.

‘And I just kind of lost some drive to pick up the whole acting again and…’

It’s impossible for me to keep my mouth shut now. ‘And you want to start a family of your own, right?’

His eyes widen. ‘How do you know about that?’

‘You’re famous, Henry and I’m curious. Go figure.’

He blushes, as if he got caught. ‘Well, it is something that crosses my mind, yeah.’

I smile. ‘That’s only normal,’ I say to him.

‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I want to start one right now, it’s just that—’

‘You need to find someone compatible,’ I interrupt him, taking notice of his discomfort. ‘I understand. You want someone that is not in it for the money, for the fame or for the sex, you want someone serious.’

‘Right,’ he says, clearly relieved that I understand.

‘Good thing I want something serious too,’ I admit. ‘I’m really not in the mood, ever, for bullshit, Henry. I passed that station a long time ago. The fact that you are willing for something serious, it’s a big relief for me.’

He opens his mouth to say something, but he is interrupted by someones phone. My phone to be exact. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, pulling my hand back, to grab my phone. ‘It’s Belle.’

‘Please take it,’ he says.

‘Hi Belle,’ I say when I pick up.

‘I’m so sorry, Olivia,’ I hear my best friend say from the other end of the line. ‘But Vanessa is not feeling well.’

I can even hear her crying in the background. ‘Is she okay?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know what’s with her,’ Belle confesses. ‘She has been crying for the last fifteen minutes and nothing works. I checked her forehead, but she’s not really hot or anything and I don’t want to bother you, because this is the first time in forever that you’re on a date, but I don’t know what to do anymore.’

‘Don’t feel sorry, Belle, you did your best. I’m coming home and you tell Vanessa that…’

I can barely finish my sentence, when I hear a sobbing Vanessa on the phone. ‘Mommy, I’m in pain and I want you home.’

This isn’t the moment for me to start panicking. ‘Angel, don’t you worry. I’m coming home, sweetheart and I’ll try to see what I can do for the pain. You go hug Kal and auntie Belle and I’ll be on my way.’

‘Is Superman coming with you?’ she asks in between sobs.

I smile. ‘Yes, sweetheart, I’m bringing Superman with me. I love you so much and I’ll be home before you know it.’

‘I love you too, mommy.’

I bet she hands Belle the phone and she says: ‘To make things even worse, I’m on call and someone just called for a sick beagle.’

‘We’ll be there shortly, okay?’

‘I’m so sorry, Olivia,’ Belle continues to apologize, but I simply dismiss it and eventually hang up the phone.

‘Is everything okay?’ Henry asks.

‘Vanessa isn’t feeling too well and Belle has to go to the clinic and I need to go home to them. I’m so sorry, Henry.’

He simply shakes his head. ‘We both knew that this was a possibility,’ he says, ‘and besides: Vanessa is and should be your number one priority. No need to feel sorry, I totally understand. I’ll go pay and we’ll go back to your place.’

≫≫≪≪

Vanessa hasn’t stopped crying ever since we came back. Belle had to rush to the clinic for the beagle, after she apologized for over five minutes. Vanessa buried her face in the crook of my neck and I can feel her burning up with a fever.

After prying for about ten minutes, I finally figured out what’s up with my little girl: she has a nasty ear infection, but that is nothing we can’t handle. My mother used to chop up some onions, to place it on the infected ear. I never really understood why that worked, but somehow the pain subdued in a matter of two days and while I was still groggy afterwards, the pain in my ear always went away shortly.

I walk back to the kitchen when the cries have turned a bit softer, to see Henry chopping up onions into tiny pieces.

‘How is she?’ Henry asks, blinking his eyes fast, because of the onions.

‘Really feverish.’ I sit on a stool and give Vanessa a kiss on her head.

‘I’m almost done,’ Henry says. ‘Though I have no idea what to do with the onions.’

‘If you hold her when you’re finished, I’ll take care of it.’

He washes his hands and I stand up, before I whisper in Vanessa’s ear: ‘Henry is going to hold you for a minute, okay?’

Vanessa nods and places her head on his broad shoulder when he holds her. I know that this isn’t the moment, but this really warms my heart, seeing Henry like a true dad. When he drove back to my place, he nearly broke all the speed limits, because he desperately wanted to be with Vanessa, not wanting her to be without her mother any longer.

‘Can you make me feel better?’ Vanessa asks in a tiny voice, when I prepare the gauze so I can fill it with the chopped onions. ‘You are Superman.’

‘What can I do to make you feel better?’ Henry asks.

‘Sing something for me,’ she mumbles.

He doesn’t say anything at all, making me think he stiffened up and is finding a way out of this, but then he asks: ‘What do you want me to sing for you, sunshine?’

‘You’re Welcome,’ she whispers. ‘That song Maui sings in Moana.’

I want to ask if he knows that song, but all of the sudden I hear his soft and deep voice, singing the lyrics.

‘What can I say except “you’re welcome”? For the tides, the sun, the sky.’

The gauze is ready and I turn around, a smile evident on my face, since I can’t help but melt at this sight. He is singing for her. I never pecked Henry for a guy that would sing, but my daughter has him wrapped around her finger.

He sits on a chair, so I can reach Vanessa’s ear a bit better. ‘Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re welcome. I’m just an ordinary demi-guy.’

I place the gauze with onions on her ear, wrap some bandages around her head and all that while Henry is singing. By the time I’m done, Vanessa has fallen asleep. The loud crying must’ve exhausted her. ‘We should place her on the couch for now,’ I whisper. ‘If I’m not with her in bed, she’ll notice right away.’

Henry stands up and carefully places Vanessa on the couch once he’s in the living room. He places a hand on her forehead and says: ‘Maybe we should open a window.’

I open the window till it’s ajar and I watch as Kal places his head against her thigh, a sweet reminder that he is there for her.

Henry and I take place at the table, so I can look at Vanessa and Kal. Henry sits right next to me and for some reason, it makes me feel really safe and comforted. ‘I’m sorry, Henry,’ I finally say. ‘This is probably not at all what you had in mind when you were asking me out.’

He simply shrugs. ‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘I’m just sad that Vanessa isn’t feeling well.’

‘She told me she felt a bit snotty and sick earlier today, but I didn’t expect a full blown ear infection.’

Henry simply nods, before placing his large hand on my leg. Do not faint, Olivia Tran, I swear do not faint! ‘You have to go to work tomorrow?’

‘I do,’ I admit. ‘And I don’t know how I’m going to handle this. I can’t call in sick, again, because my boss will kill me if I do so, but I’m not taking a sick kid with me to work and—’

‘I can look after her,’ he says.

Excuse me, what? ‘Excuse me, what?’ I say out loud.

‘I can look after her,’ he repeats. ‘I have nothing to do, so you can go to sleep and then tomorrow, you’ll go to work.’

I blink away some tears in my eyes, that start to collect there at an admirably fast speed. ‘Henry, I can’t ask that from you.’

‘Good thing I’m offering,’ he says with a soft smile. ‘Really, I don’t want you to get in trouble and besides, I don’t want to leave Vanessa when she’s feeling like this.’

≫≫≪≪

I don’t know what I did in life to deserve a man like Henry Cavill. After we talked for a bit (and him promising that he really hasn’t anything to do tomorrow), I went to bed with Vanessa and Henry placed a mattress in the room, falling asleep there with Kal.

But during the night, every time I was awake, he was too, forcing himself to stay awake. He even opened a window, so Vanessa could continue to cool off. He placed a thin blanket over her, creating the illusion that she was covered, while he covered me with a thicker blanket, so I wouldn’t grow cold.

I made him promise to call me if anything happened, but nothing happened. He send me three pictures: one of Kal guarding a sleeping Vanessa who lays sprawled out on the couch, one of Vanessa with freshly cut onions on her ear and one of her and Henry and I need to fight the urge to change that my wallpaper into that picture.

Vanessa is seated on his lap, her thumb in her mouth (something she only does when she’s sick) and her head placed against his chest. Though Henry looks tired from not sleeping at all, he is still smiling and I can’t help but envision a future with those two.

During the day, all sorts of scenario’s jump through my mind. Me coming home from work, to find Vanessa and him waiting for me. Henry and I in our bed and due to a thunderstorm, Vanessa barges into to the room, so she can lay with us. Henry picking her up from school. Henry going with me to the parent teacher meetings, so I don’t have to face miss Sue or some other bitch by myself.

Henry being the father figure that Vanessa so desperately needs.

After a day where it seemed like every second passed by at least three times, I’m on my way back home. I open the front door and I hear soft giggles from the living room. I close the door behind me, slip out of my shoes, all while I hear Henry say: ‘You’re doing a great job, sunshine.’

‘You’re very pretty, superman.’

I walk into the living room, to see Vanessa sitting on his lap, using her children’s make-up kit, coloring in Henry’s face. He looks ridiculous, with his bright blue forehead and green cheeks.

‘Mommy, you’re back!’ Vanessa says. She dismisses her make-up kit and walks up to me. I meet her halfway and pepper her cheek with kisses. ‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too, how are you feeling?’ I place my hand on her forehead and feel she isn’t as hot as she was when I left, but seeing her teary eyes, I know she is still sick, but feeling a lot better from the looks of it.

‘Tired,’ she admits. ‘And body ache.’

‘Understandably so. Have you been sweet to Henry and Kal?’

She nods. ‘I puked. though,’ she admits.

‘Oh no, sweetie, where?’

‘Over Kal.’

Then I notice indeed that Kal is a bit wet, while he is placed on a few towels. ‘Oh.’

‘Yeah,’ Henry says, ‘I used your bath tub for a little clean up session.’

‘That’s totally fine,’ I say with a smile. ‘What is that smell?’

‘I made some pasta,’ he answers, while it’s really hard to take him seriously with those weird colors on his face.

‘How about you wash your face and I’m going to see what this sweetheart wants for dinner?’

‘I want a fruit smoothie,’ Vanessa says and that is really typical for her when she’s sick to order fruit smoothies. ‘And maybe a bite of your pasta.’

Henry cleans up his face and by the time I have finished the fruit smoothie with oranges and bananas, Vanessa has already fallen asleep on the couch again. Not wanting to wake her up, I decide to put the smoothie away, for when she wakes up again. I sit across from Henry at the table. ‘How was it today?’

‘It went okay,’ he says, ‘minus the puking accident of course, but other than that, it went good. We watched some movies mostly.’

I don’t know why this happens, but I feel some tears burning up in my eyes.

‘Why are you crying, Olivia?’ Henry asks, while changing seats, so he can sit next to me. He places his hand on the back of the chair.

‘It’s just that I don’t know what I would’ve done, if you didn’t offer to watch her today,’ I admit.

He smiles. ‘Come here,’ he whispers, pulling me against his broad chest and when I feel his massive arms engulfing me in a hug, tension in my body that has been building up there for God knows how long, slowly seems to fade away. I wrap my arms around his waist and he places his chin on top of my head.

Was a hug something I needed for all those years? Is that it?

For all these years, I have been pulling myself together, even when my worries nearly ate me up alive. But to share it with someone, who is already being such a great influence in not only Vanessa’s life, but also in mine, is something I never knew I needed.

‘Thank you, Henry,’ I whisper when I carefully pull back.

His large hands are placed on my shoulders and he smiles at me. ‘My pleasure, Olivia.’

I bite my lip and admit: ‘I think I’m falling for you.’

He nods. ‘Good thing I’m falling for you too.’

Just do it. He probably won’t mind. I know for a fact that he won’t mind. Look at what he said to me. He is falling for me too. I lean in and give him a short peck on his cheek, the five ‘o clock shadow already scratching against my lips. I don’t pull back immediately. My breath against his skin. I have to swallow hard to maintain some composure, but I’m ready to turn into a large puddle.

Henry turns his face, to give me a kiss on my lips. When was the last time I kissed a man? Right, it was when Wesley came home from his work. He gave me a short kiss on my lips, ten minutes before I told him about the pregnancy.

His lips brush against mine, even after the kiss. ‘Olivia,’ he says, his voice deep and nearly giving me the need to change my underwear, ‘this is the greatest way to end our prolonged date.’

I can’t help but chuckle. ‘It is,’ I whisper. And I don’t want it to end.

Ever.

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[itsbenedict]

I didn’t post about everything I played this year, so here’s my opinions on the stuff I played that I didn’t make a rec post for:

Raging Loop 

Raging Loop is one of them twisty meta Zero Escape-y branching-path visual novels where an ensemble cast is trapped in a mysterious circumstance where people are dying gruesomely, and you have to find out what’s happening and stop it by looping a bunch. 

I can’t wholeheartedly recommend it, because... it tries to have its cake and eat it too with the supernatural elements. Clearly magic is real and has important impacts on the scenario, but then other parts are trickery you’re supposed to see through, and it’s entirely uninterested in cluing you in to how that trickery was accomplished. Not exactly a fair play mystery, in that regard- you have to kind of just be along for the ride, rather than try to figure it out.

That said, it’s a good ride- pretty strong character writing, and the central conceit of the Werewolf/Mafia-style murder scenario creates really interesting drama. It’s more concerned with making itself feel clever than letting the player feel clever, but it’s still well-paced and gripping and has a pretty decent resolution.

Detective Grimoire

I recommended Tangle Tower, the sequel, pretty strongly- and this one, while obviously a little rougher around the edges with the art and mechanics (the suspicion tracker system is a total dud; I didn’t even realize it existed until I realized I was missing an achievement for using it), it’s still pretty darn good. Really fun character designs and animations, fully-voiced, and a solid whodunit backing it all. Plus- while the two are more or less self-contained, the continuity threads with Tangle Tower raised some really interesting questions.

Contradiction - the all-video murder mystery

This one was pretty fun, largely on the strength of the actors. The main mechanic of interrogating people on evidence and using their own statements against each other was some good stuff, too. Definitely had that Phoenix Wright quality to the deductions, and Jenks is a really fun character. (Had a few points where progression was just linked to standing in a certain previously-abandoned area of the map where a clue was suddenly there for no reason, there- good thing it had a hint system.)

As a mystery, it could use a little work- most of what you end up finding out is sequel bait (for a sequel that never actually came together, unfortunately), and the actual whodunit is just sort of hiding in the cracks of all that. And... cornering the culprit just sort of happens out of nowhere once you’ve got your hands on the right piece of evidence, without much fanfare. You’re following up on leads like usual, you find a little lie in someone’s testimony, and then- oh, shit, they’re just confessing everything! Unlike all the previous times you questioned them and they were super evasive like everyone else! And then the game is over. 

All in all, it’s pretty meaty and entertaining and I’d recommend it, but unfortunately the creators have moved on to other things, so there’s not going to be any follow-up on the stuff it left unresolved.

Ikenfell

Ikenfell is a tightly-designed RPG about kids at a magic school, with Paper Mario-style action command mechanics and a battle system that makes a big deal out of careful positioning and movement, which was really enjoyable. The difficulty’s a little high (I recommend always always always speccing into max damage because killing things before they kill you is worth more than any amount of defense, speed doesn’t work, and healing is cheap), but I found it really satisfying.

There’s... something... off? About... I don’t know how to put it, it’s... doing that “yes, everyone is queer and mentally ill, deal with it” thing, which, sure, okay. But for a lot of them it’s such a background thing, like... half the playable cast is unambiguously nonbinary, but like... I don’t know if it’s trying to make some statement on how there are no rules to being NB and you can 100% perform a particular binary gender presentation but still count, or if they wrote the whole story and then changed the pronouns of some of the characters for Representation Points, or what. Probably the former? I dunno, it just feels weird. Maybe I’m just not woke enough to Get It.

(unrelatedly: why the heck is the official art they use everywhere so... off-model? none of them look like they do in-game- they look like the creator commissioned someone to draw a group shot with one reference image each and didn’t tell them anything about the characters. how much you wanna bet they commissioned a friend and it came out wrong but they were too polite to say “sorry, no, this is wrong, can you do it over?”)

Trails of Cold Steel IV

Hoo boy. It’s... not great, and it’s not great in a pretty predictable way for an even-numbered entry in the Trails series. It happens every time- first there’s a game in a new engine with new characters and a new world to explore, and it’s really nice and does interesting things... and then it ends on a cliffhanger, and then there’s a sequel game in the same engine with the same characters and the same world, reusing as many assets as possible. Also the League Of Generically Evil Anime Supervillains is there causing trouble for reasons they refuse to explain, and the plot is a storm of magicbabble and macguffin-chasing that makes little to no sense. 

Cold Steel IV is that for Cold Steel III, full stop. Welcome back to all the same places you visited last game, except this time there’s some stupid magic apocalypse happening (not that it stops you from taking the time to do random sidequests constantly, of course). The whole “oh, the evil curse mind controls people and that’s why they do stupid bullshit that’s in no one’s interest” plot point is leaned on super hard, and it’s just a big yawn the whole way through.

It’s still really fun, though, because the battle system remains really well-designed. (The same battle system that was just as fun in Cold Steel III, mind you, but it hasn’t gotten old.) And- though they’re struggling to square it with the dumb mind control apocalypse plot, the NPC dialogue continues to make the world feel believable and lived-in. They don’t slack on the parts that make Trails good- it’s just the parts that make Trails bad are making themselves more evident than ever.

did finally get to date Towa though so that’s a win

One Step From Eden

OSFE is... uh. It’s fucking hard is what it is. It’s sort of a deckbuilding roguelike, and there’s this combat that takes place on a grid, and- wait, it’s like Mega Man Battle Network, it’s exactly like Mega Man Battle Network. Man, I forgot about that, but the mechanical influence is extremely obvious. It’s MMBN meets Slay the Spire.

Except it’s super duper hard as hell, because unlike MMBN you can’t pause and swap out chips or anything- everything is just always happening so much, all at once, everywhere, and you have no recourse but to git gud and learn all the enemy patterns and the behavior of your own spells and develop the twitch reflexes necessary to not fucking die from all the shit that’s on the screen always.

(What’s the story? Uhhhh, there was some kind of magic apocalypse, and some anime girls are trying to reach a city for some reason that doesn’t really get explained ever. The game doesn’t really care to build its world at all- it’s all mechanics plus a little token character dialogue that doesn’t say much.)

The point is it’s really frickin’ hard but I am an epic pro gamer and I got ALL THE ACHIEVEMENTS, MOTHERFUCKER. If you’ve played it, I expect you to be really god damn impressed with me, okay???

A Short Hike

This one was really relaxing! It’s a platformer where you explore an Animal Crossing-y island of cartoon animal people, collecting mobility upgrades- but like, mainly it’s about straight chillin’. The flight controls are fun and there’s lots of little secrets to find and it’s just a nice time that doesn’t drag on too long. Not too much to say about this one.

Pokémon Sword

Ehhhhh.

I’m not here for the hot takes about how Dexit is good actually. Development hell happened, they had to make cuts for time, I get it. It’s disappointing and makes the game a little bit worse, but it’s not the end of the world.

Apart from that... perfectly serviceable? The Wild Area could’ve used a little more technical polish (as could most things in the game, really) but was a step in the right direction, giving the player a wider array of early-game team-building options than ever before. No HMs is good. Story and characters were kind of nothing, but that’s par for the course. “At least this time they’re not shoehorning in some kind of stupid evil-team-wants-legendary-pokemon-to-destroy-the-world apocalypse plot”, I thought to myself before they managed to shoehorn one in at the last minute with zero buildup- but, hey, beats wasting half the game on it.

It’s nothing special and it’s missing a lot of polish, but its problems are mainly due to being rushed, and presumably next gen they’ll be able to reuse a lot of the models and animations (maybe even improve the animations so they’re not so boring??? a man can dream) and make something interesting. SwSh seem like they were testing the waters for something else, and not taking too many chances in the meantime. 

(yo why would you sell all these cosmetic items and then turn them all off during gym battles, though) 

Hades

Hades is- oh, who am I kidding? Everyone knows Hades, it’s the game of the year, greatest thing since sliced bread, Supergiant are heroes, yada yada yada. I’ve played almost 300 hours of it and I’ve completed everything except all the Resources Director levels (currently a Sigma Wraith), it’s extremely fun and you don’t need me to tell you that.

Petal Crash

It was that thing the Paranatural creator helped on? It’s, uh. It’s a block-sliding puzzle game thing, sort of in a Puyo Puyo vein. It has fun character designs and some good dialogue, like you’d expect from Zack’s involvement, but it didn’t really leave an impression otherwise (besides how got dang infuriating some of its Turn Trial puzzles can be.) The story is... kinda heartwarming, kinda didactic, kinda childish, not especially deep or interesting. Hard for it to be, when it’s told through little bits of fluffy character dialogue that exist to set up a puzzle battle as quickly as possible. Not super recommended unless you really really like block-sliding puzzles.

Hollow Knight

Man, why’d I sleep on this for so long? It’s a metroidvania platformer with heavy Dark Souls inspiration, in terms of tone and difficulty and death mechanics and environmental storytelling. And it’s... apart from all that, just really good as a game, with tight controls and juicy movement and great animation. Progression is linked as much to mastery as it is to upgrades collected- I found myself in lategame areas facing down things that would’ve killed me ten times over at the start- not because I had the best gear, but because I’d learned the game’s language and understood how to move in ways that wouldn’t get me killed.

(Usually. Sometimes I’d walk into a room and sit on a bench and suddenly there’d be a boss fight and I’d get slaughtered. Ain’t that just the way it goes?)

Anyway, on top of all that it’s just charming as hell, with a really unique and well-realized world full of little bug people. I love how, like, your character is clearly some kind of eldritch abomination, but it’s small and cute and so everyone (besides enemies that attack you on sight because they’re possessed by some kinda evil mold) is like “awww, who’s this little guy? want some help, little guy?”

(except Zote, who is just an ass hole. i love him.)

[popculturebuffet]

Green Eggs and Ham: Here (Patreon Review for Emma Ficci)

Hello all you happy people! And I have my first fully paid for comission and patreon review all in one! Yes my good friend Emma became a patreon and you can too, go to patreon.com/popculturebuffet. Even one buck a month helps and 5 a month nets you a review of whatever of your choice a month. An episode of any tv show I have acess to. It feels good to have more than one person paying my salary, though I sitll want to thank Kev, my other patreon for helping with that. 

So with that all in order, let’s talk about this thoroughly weird, thoroughly wonderful show from a couple years back. Green Eggs and Ham is modern adaptation of a Dr. Seuss book..... and I bet those of you who haven’t heard of this series before or it’s reputation just had your bowls clinch a bit. Yeah while I haven’t seen illumination’s takes on the maestro of children’s books, I haven’t heard the best things and the trailers and odd and counter productive marketing tie ins for the Lorax have made me want to stay 30 feet away from it at all times. Seriously you get certified Legend Danny DeVito.. and you waste him on “Dat’s a woman” a joke that I don’t have time to unpack all the ways it sucks. My point is Seuss really hasn’t had the best time with adaptations latey.  But leave it to Warner Animation and Netflix to pull out a great one. Yeah I wasn’t too excited about a tv adaptation of one book at first due to all this and even a celebrity cast wasn’t a good sign. They roped Danny DeVito into the Lorax. So even with a whopper cast containing Michael Douglas, Diane Keaton, my boy Adam Divine, Ilana Glazer, Kegan Michael Key,  Jeffery Wright, Eddie Izard and JIllian Bell.. I wasn’t convinced. But word of mouth was really good, and the animation looked downright gorgeous, perfectly mimicking suess’ work and feeling like an unabashed love letter. 

So I did what I tend to do.. and sat on it for several years because I simply forgot to watch it till my friend comissioned it and here we are. And off the bat.. the reputation.. is not remotely overblown. This is easily the best Dr. Seuss adaptation i’ve seen in some time taking the best of his ideas and whimsy, with what little behind the scenes stuff I could get saying they specifically took art design from his art of book, with a modern and intresting story behind it and an all star cast that this time around are used well instead of just being there for Name Recogntion. Not only that but it takes inspriation form, of all things, Planes Trains and Automobiles, but does so well so far, getting the oddcouple dynamic down perfectly. 

So join me under the cut as I cut this bit of green eggs and ham into bite sized pieces for you all and go into why it’s so delecitable. 

This episode’s mostly broken up into bits to introduce all the main players, so as I tend to do when there’s multiple plots, I will be covering each one at a time. 

Guy and Sam: The Failed Inventor and the Animal Thief

So our story begins with.. a ninja breaking into a zoo to steal the rare Chikaraffe. 

Neither was the narrator, played by Key.. and the narrator naturally for a work like this delightfully interacts with things and is one of the best parts of the whole episode. But this already shows how well the series updates things. There’s one or two things like Ninja Sam or a family making ducklips during a photo, there’s even a fairly obvious trump stand in we’ll get to.. but none of it’s SO overdone it takes you out of things or dates the projects. The tech is kept to about the 70′s or 80′s with cameras still used instead of camera phones, crt tv’s, and what have you, and most inventions seens are susian. It feels wholly in line with his books while still nudging it into our current decade here and there. In other words.. how you SHOULD do it: add in a few things here or there but no overt pop culture refrences and at most a take that at something Seuss would gladly take aim at. 

So we meet our other hero the next day, Guy-Am-I. Guy is the show’s version of the nameless harassment victim from the books, with a bit of a darker fur and hat, likely to help better distingish him from sam as well as sell him being older than his co-star. It’s a good change, and helps sell Guy as what he is.. a grumpy middle aged man who keeps failling in life as demonstrated by his way to the inventions: he falls in a puddle, signs no on a pettition because he’s in a hurry, reminds me of man in a hurry from hatchefield but I couldn’t find a good image of him saying that in time and takes a picture of the family “Say runing my life” “ruining your life!”. We later see after some of the following scenes Sam do the same.. but he hops over the puddle then dives ino for fun, signs an entire page of the pettition, and takes tons of pictures. It’s a nice establishing scene for both. 

Guy is presenting his invention for Snerzco, your standard megacorp given a delightful Seuss twist with LITERAL pencil pushers and beancounters, to present his invention, with other inventors presenting, witht he hopes of presenting to Snerzz himself, having such delightfully bonkers and seussian inventions as a reverse umbrella (it rains on you) and an automatic fingercrosser. It’s touches like this that really tell me the series really loves Dr. Seuss. 

Sadly things don’t go well for guy as he’s hoping his invention dosen’t explode, his invention being a backpack made of hands to help people fly. Most people are imprestted apart from Michelle a bean counter who.. randomly snarks she wouldn’t let her daughter fly on it.

Yeah it’s not a great introduction for one of your major characters to have her randomly mock something that hadn’t exploded yet, and to for no reason bring up what a paranoid and unfun parent she is. We’ll get to her more in a bit. But yes it does explode and Guy’s dreams are ruined. 

And this whole picture.. shows who guy is. He’s someone whose kept trying agian, and again and again only for it not to work, and to get laughed at by the public and spat on by god themslef. It’s easy to see WHY he’s such a bitter curmudgeon: life hates him, so why shouldn’t he hate it back. That’s a self defeating prophecy of course but this is episode one and tha’ts probably the point of the series: to explore this. That being said I could see this coming from a mile away and felt it to be the most unupsired bit of the episode. 

Guy enters a diner to get some Oatmush “The Sadmans Special” after the bus leaves before he can get to it because again, God hates him personally.  No the sadman’s special is a famous bowl from KFC. I should know as a professional sadman. Regardless Guy is miserable.. and in enters sam, whose fascenated their “Breifcase Buddies” because thier briefcases match.. and unlike the above I like how they call attention to them being identical. We know wha’ts going to happen there but the lampshading helps it go down easier and makes us wonder if they will swap. Sam is a regular, being friends with Donna the waitress and ordering his usual green eggs and ham.

So we get the expected bit: Sam asks Guy to try them, he says no, but the show makes a good choice. Instead of just.. stalking guy for the next 11 episodes to get him to try it.. he simply asks if he’s actually tried it, Guy says no and makes a great poop joke, and Sam leaves it. He apparently asks once an episode, but it’s made more into a character thing; Guy refuses because he hates to try new things outside of his inventing and that’s hit a wall. It’s also a nice suprise that Devine and Douglas just play perfectly off one another. The two are from vastly diffrent generations and backgrounds acting wise, but they just work perfectly together and it’s what makes their interactions work. 

Sam does leave it and the other inventors having ALL got the golden ticket, arrive and Sam treats them.. only to notice Guy’s paper and the fact guy failed, and asks donna politely to get guy his mush as he ordered first. It’s good setup for Sam. We saw him be nice and free and what not, but we also see that while he can be insietive (He asked guy what broken dream he had earlier in the scene) he does geniunely care and it isn’t just surface level. He loves people and helping them and getting to know them. 

Of course while Guy is greatful, showing that beneath his own exterior he’s not a bad guy just one made miserable by life, he’s not going to be best friends or anything.. that’s a lot to ask they just met and takes his case after gulping down his oatmush. 

That night Sam prepares to leave, having given Donna his adress.. multiple times. in the hopes someone comes over and hangs out. Can relate even if i’d never go that far. He does however reveal himself as the ninja and prepare to take the chikaraffe with him for whatever reason. 

Guy goes to his hotel room to sulk, not helped by the other inventors partying outside, and full of misery and self loathing throws his suitcase in the fire.. until it makes a noise. He quickly pulls it out to find the Chickaraffe. Will he surivive? I mean probably. We have 12 episodes left. And a full second season. God this is going to take a few years.. regardless, let’s move onto the subplots. 

MIchellee and E.B.

We meet Michelle’s daughter EB who just wants to live but her mom dosen’t let her have toys or shenaniagnas.. and comes off untetionally as really abusive. She’s SUPPOSED to be overprotective, but saying “I detect a hint of whimsy.. i’ll allow it” really just paints you as an overcontrolling psycho. Their headed on a trip and while EB wants to catch the chickaraffe for herself dosen’t have the time and her mom gives her a magnetic friendship bracelet.. that shackes her to her. Just... yeah Michelle has made me  hate her in one episode and she’s played by Diane Keaton. How do you do that? Hopefully she’ll get better but hearing about these two characters was part of the reason I procastinated so long. The other is my brain being kind of a forgetful swamp. 

Snerz: We meet Snerz himself who has someone bringing him the chickaraffe. Snerz is a cold, mean man with trump hair.. that in this case is a literal being he’s forcing to be his hair, has everything gold plated and keeps animals in a wall forcing them to stand on the other side and put their heads through like he mounted them because he’s a sociopath. And this is the refrence I meant. Snerz has many comparisons to trump, the hair, the gold platings, but it dosen’t really date the thing as Trump has been around since long before this and will sadly probably be around till his inetivitible jail sentence. But it’s not so overt or over the top that it takes you out of it it works. Okay one more. 

BAD GUYS:

Two mysterious agents, one old and one on her first mission, go to the zoo and interogate the guy running it holding him over a slapping turtle exhbit. Their after the chickaraffe and depart.. with the yougner agent accidently dropping him. Whoops. At least he gets to get hit into space by a turtle. Some of us never will “Sigh”

Final Thoughts:

This was an excellent first episode. It fleshes out the characters well, sets up the story without feeling too slow, and the show strkes the right ballance of being it’s own thing while still feeling Seuss. It’s a wubusoully wonderful good time and I recommend checking it out. I look forward to the rest of the series over the next year. 

Next on this blog: Sleepover time as Shadow into Light, my Lena Saberwing retrospective resumes. 

[libralita]

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Suzanne Collins

Summary: Ambition will fuel him. Competition will drive him. But power has its price. It is the morning of the reaping that will kick off the tenth annual Hunger Games. In the Capitol, eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow is preparing for his one shot at glory as a mentor in the Games. The once-mighty house of Snow has fallen on hard times, its fate hanging on the slender chance that Coriolanus will be able to outcharm, outwit, and outmaneuver his fellow students to mentor the winning tribute. The odds are against him. He’s been given the humiliating assignment of mentoring the female tribute from District 12, the lowest of the low. Their fates are now completely intertwined—every choice Coriolanus makes could lead to favor or failure, triumph or ruin. Inside the arena, it will be a fight to the death. Outside the arena, Coriolanus starts to feel for his doomed tribute . . . and must weigh his need to follow the rules against his desire to survive no matter what it takes.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

So, this is a bit of a “disclaimer” or more of an interesting fact: I’ve technically never read The Hunger Games Trilogy. I had to read the first book for my English class, and it was a time where I hated being told what to read so I used SparkNotes. We also watched the first film in that class but that doesn’t really matter because A) that was like 8 or 9 years ago and B) it was for my class so you can bet I wasn’t playing attention. So, for all intents and purposes, I have not read the Hunger Games. Now you may be asking why I decided read this…seemingly controversial book rather than the much beloved original trilogy. Cuz my friend said I should, the audiobook sample intrigued me, and when are you going to see a review of this book from someone who hasn’t read the original trilogy?

Before I go into spoilers with this book, I just want to say as someone who has at best a surface level understanding of the Hunger Games trilogy, I think people are being a little bit harsh about this book. This book made me completely understand why Coriolanus Snow went down the path that he did while also not glamourizing it or making excuses for it. I genuinely felt bad for this young man who has delt with so many hardship that no one would should suffer through. However, he still does horrible things and the book recognizes that he does horrible things. It is a fascinating character study with a bit of background on how the Hunger Games came to be. Perhaps my opinion will change once I read The Hunger Games trilogy (which I intend to do) however at this point I think this was an amazing book and you should give it a fair shake. Now, onto spoilers.

The only flaw I found with this book was it was a bit too on the nose with a couple of things. First some of the names. Gaul. Satyria. Highbottom. I know that Collins started off as a middle grade writer and these feel like very middle grade character names. They just describe the characters a little too perfectly. In YA, it’s more popular to make characters where their names’ meanings give an insight into their character. Not a huge problem but a bit silly.

Second, I’m a little conflicted on the political talk. On the one hand, holy shit a YA book that talks about political theory? In an intelligent way? That’s not just screaming about real world politics? Oh my! On the other hand, it’s a little too on the nose. Gaul having Coryo write about the Social Contract and then this conversation:

“‘I do. Unless there’s law, someone enforcing it, I think we might as well be animals,’ he said with more assurance. ‘Like it or not, the Capitol is the only thing keeping anyone safe.’ ‘Hm. So they keep me safe. And what do I give up for that?’ she asked.”—Page 434

Hobbes would swoon over Coryo. It wasn’t bad just on the nose. And to a degree, I get it, I’m working on getting my masters in political science and I’ve read Hobbes and Rousseau whereas most the intended audience probably hasn’t. So, I call this a nitpick for me

Other than this book being a little too on the nose, I found very little fault in this. Maybe the Post-Games story line was a little less interesting but it still wasn’t bad by any means.  This book is a character study of Coriolanus Snow, so I’d like to talk about him and his dissent. While reading this, my friend asked me if I hadn’t known that Coryo would one day become President Snow, if I could see it coming. And, while it’s hard to tell exactly, I think Collins manages to balance both Coryo being sympathetic and showing how he could become the person that he is in the trilogy. There are three…phases or Coryo’s life that really illustrate how he becomes President Snow. First is his life during the War. Second, is his life During the 10th Hunger Games. Then his life Post-Games. Collins does a wonderful job of portraying what it was like for Coryo during the war. The horrors he had witness of enjoying the life of luxury at an early age and then his world crashing around him. Of his family dying. Of the struggles to survive. Of him witnessing his friends’ parents restore to something horrible like cannibalism. It’s brought up a lot because it’s something that scarred him.

Now his During-Games life/the first half of this book. Coryo and the people around him are clearly dealing with the PTSD of growing up in a war zone. He’s essentially starving through most of this section during the book and on the verge of losing of what little he’s held onto since the War ended. I feel really bad for him. There was a part of me during this section where I hoped along side him that Lucy Gray would win the Hunger Games, he could go to University and continue his relationship with her. Maybe they could have changed Panem for the better. And while in this section he was no pure angel, you could see Gaul and Highbottom pushing him to become a worse person. You could also see the red flags that become worse in the Post-Games section.

There are two major red flags I picked up on during this read through. First, is his relationship with Lucy Gray. He’s very possessive of her and he gets very jealous when she sings about another guy during The Hunger Games. This made the relationship slightly uncomfortable for me…though let’s be honest if Sejanus was pining after Lucy Gray he would be acting no different from any other YA love interest (shots fired.) He actually reminded me a lot of Jace from The Mortal Instruments. The second red flag is his treatment of Sejanus. In a meta sense Sejanus is your typical hero and the fact that Coryo is using him (and really anyone besides maybe his family?) is a giant red flag to me as a reader. He doesn’t like Sejanus or Mrs. Plinth. He just wants to use them. Which is really sad but shows that is eventually dissent into Post-Hunger Games Coryo is foreshadowed.

Now, let’s talk about Post-Games. I took a break once the Games ended because I was a little unmotivated to keep reading. I didn’t know if I would like Coryo leaving the Capital. I liked seeing the political maneuvering of the Games and his dynamics with his classmates. However, watching his dissent was great. His relationship with Lucy Gray went from slightly concerning to full blown toxic. His possessiveness of her really amped up. Coryo also isn’t really happy to see Sejanus because it’s a friendly face, it’s because there’s someone to recognize his status and for someone he can use. Again, another moment of possibility of where Coryo could have let Sejanus and maybe Lucy Gray escape and he could have gone off to become an officer. Work his way up and become the President. However, he didn’t take that path.

It was so heartbreaking to see Sejanus die, there was still a glimmer of Coryo’s humanity where he genuinely felt guilty but you could see his self-preserving nature showing its ugly head. And then his journey is cemented when he can’t handle being out with Lucy Gray so he may or may not have killed her, then he goes back where his family pictures are ruined and his mother’s powder is mush. The only thing left his is father’s compass.

Speaking of his father, one final character I’ll mention is Dean Highbottom. I wish we got a little bit more of him because his view of Coryo is interesting. It seemed like Collins gave a very subtle story about how Highbottom was worried that Coryo would turn out like his father. But Highbottom ended up created the monster he wanted to prevent. If he had shown Coryo compassion and understanding, he might have turned out differently. This ended up getting Highbottom killed which was a great way to end the book. Sad but great.

Overall, I think this is a great story. I loved seeing all the different roads Coryo could have taken and how things could have turned out differently. I am planning on buying the Hunger Games trilogy so it’ll be interesting to see how this changes things for me.

[makeste]

not a cavalcade of Katsuki panels

damn, anon. you stone cold came for me with that last part. and just fyi to all onlookers, this was before I had posted the headcanons ask proving this exact point lmao.

but a challenge has been issued now! so I will do my best to pick a variety of impartial panels featuring a veritable medley of characters. not sure I can really provide much in the way of insightful analysis of symbolism and metaphors and stuff, but I can certainly type a lot of words about the pretty pictures, and about how cool people look when they’re standing around all serious surrounded by clouds of billowing smoke.

why I like it: I figured we’d start off strong. no point in holding back. can the other panels possibly even hope to compete. maybe. we’ll see.

why I like it: because, you see, he punched a giant robot, and it exploded. you see that, there? and the text was all “SMAASH” in humongous comic book letters, and it was pretty cool. also Deku is very tiny and the robot is very big. and just to clarify, most of the time if a tiny fifteen-year-old child tries to punch an 80-foot robot, it’s not actually going to go all that well, and the robot probably will not explode. but in this case it did! and so this is a very novel and unexpected outcome, which makes it all the more visually striking, which is a very good thing to be when you are trying to show off the brand new superpower which your protagonist just inherited, and letting people see it in action for the very first time.

why I like it: so you may have noticed we just skipped a whoooole bunch of chapters lol. this is because there are almost 300 of them, and so I’m going to have to use a bit of discretion. anyway so this is a gorgeous panel. just, everything about it. the lighting; the expressions; Shouto’s hesitation; and his mom facing away, not looking back yet, and us not yet knowing how she’ll react. and the fact that they’re visually separated by as much distance as possible -- at opposite ends of a two-page spread -- and yet they’re so close, closer than they’ve been in years. mm. anyway it’s pretty.

why I like it: first of all because there’s nothing like seeing a deserving character get punched in the fucking face, and few characters IMO have been as deserving as Stain. and second because this is Deku, showing up to save the day out of nowhere at the last minute, because excuse you, but he’s a motherfuckin’ hero. sorry to interrupt your evening plans of stabbing a kid while lecturing him about why, philosophically, he deserves to die. but I’ve got a package here for a Mister Stain. it’s from Mister Smaassh, with two A’s and three S’s.

why I like it: fyi, anon said nothing about a cavalcade of BakuDeku panels. you didn’t think I’d let that loophole go to waste, did you? but nonetheless I will try to restrain myself until we get to the second ground beta fight. anyway, I like this panel because All Might’s canonically 7′2″ self looks about twelve feet tall here, and he is just TOWERING over these two boys, who’ve been tasked with somehow outwitting him during this curiously sadistic final exam. and it’s just an interesting perspective, because we know they both look up to him, and here they are physically looking way, way up, up, up at him.

why I like it: now this is how you do a villain entrance. I love absolutely everything about this. the sheer scale of destruction, and the way he’s just sort of casually hanging out there in the middle of the panel almost dwarfed by all this dust and smoke and carnage, and yet is unquestionably the focus of the page. the way that you can’t actually see his face, not yet. not until the end of the chapter. the way the clouds are drifting so calmly and peacefully in the night sky in stark contrast to the horrific events that are about to take place on the ground. this panel gives me literal chills, especially when I think about All for One’s creepy theme music playing in the background.

why I like it: this panel is so iconic to me that it’s one of the first ones I immediately knew I had to go and find when I got this ask. this entire fight is perfection from start to finish, and there are other panels that are more artistically striking if I’m being honest (in particular, the ones where he’s half-transformed with his face perfectly split down the middle between Muscle Might and Skinny Steve). but there’s just something about his determination in this panel, though. something about the fire in his eyes, and the way he clenches his fist. “my heart is still the heart of the Symbol of Peace.” I remember being sooooo fucking anxious when his true form was revealed, wondering if this was it, if the people watching were going to turn on him, if he was going to lose both the fight and their faith. turns out I was wrong on both accounts. basically what I am trying to tell you guys is that this panel was and is still the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.

why I like it: because he’s just a frail old man doing what he can to protect the last flickering embers of the thing that enables him to fight on. there’s something so fucking desperate and yet so determined about this image. he knows it’s futile, but still he persists.

why I like it: damn it was hard to find a “you’re next” panel with just the right angle I like best. this is probably as close as it gets, but I kind of wish Deku was somehow visible in this image as well. but at any rate this is an amazing moment, and All Might is dramatic af for basically no reason but IT’S BADASS. “no I’m not going to actually look where I’m pointing. it’s cooler this way.” or was it because he wasn’t sure if he could keep the emotion off of his face if he actually turned and looked? in this moment of knowing that it was finally over for him, that he would never be the Symbol again, and knowing that he had no choice but to move on and entrust that burden to the next generation? damn.

why I like it: I... fucking... okay, here’s a fun fact. did you know that I still get emotional over this panel almost a full two years after reading it?? obviously a good 84% of it is the context -- All Might losing his power; Deku being forced to take up the mantle before he feels ready; All Might feeling responsible for him; and both of them being so desperately grateful to have each other in that moment. but don’t underestimate that remaining 16% either though! this is just an extremely well-drawn hug, on top of everything else. All Might pressing Deku’s head to his shoulder with his fingers laced in his hair is some mighty fine fiercely protective hug tropes there, you guys. and the way Deku is clinging to his shirt so tightly his knuckles have probably gone white?? while he cries?? while both of them cry? ON THE BEACH? WITH THE WAVES LAPPING SOFTLY AT THE SHORE IN THE PEACEFUL NIGHT AIR?? jesus fucking christ. this hug contains more emotions than I am capable of carrying inside me at once. I just sort of have to let them flow in and out little by little until they finally subside.

why I like it: you bet I skipped right from Kamino straight to Deku VS Kacchan Part 2. no regrets. anyway, so these two panels are an absolutely gorgeous one-two punch. so much has changed from the days when they were innocent little kids marching off into the woods to have adventures. they’ve changed. their relationship has changed. and yet, at the end of the day, Izuku is still willing to follow Katsuki even without being given any kind of explanation. and Katsuki still seeks out Izuku when he’s on the verge of having a spectacular emotional breakdown. because he doesn’t know who else to turn to. and because despite everything, there is trust there still, on some deep, fundamental level neither of them fully understands or knows how to acknowledge. anyway, so these two panels just give me a ton of feels all about the passage of time and how everything changes and how you can’t get back what’s lost, but also sometimes if you look deep enough you find that parts of it were never fully gone.

why I like it: because in a striking display of dramatic main character energy, these boys decided to stage their life-changing destiny-affirming rival fight on the coolest possible stage in the middle of the goddamn night. and then Katsuki made it even better by producing WAY MORE SMOKE than his attack by all rights should have produced! and then they went and crouched down all symmetrically so as to more poetically make intense eye contact at each other. I really like panels with smoke and/or dust clearing dramatically. there are like four more of them coming up on this list. what can I say. it’s cinematic.

why I like it: I actually had this one as my icon for a while. it’s rare imo to see an action panel that’s so balanced and has so much going on and is so clean and easy to read. both of their poses are so dynamic. I like the way the arc of Izuku’s kick is drawn, and I love the way you can clearly see that Katsuki propelled himself backwards with his quirk in order to dodge it. it’s just a really cool little panel that for me perfectly sums up the general feel of this fight, and its awesome choreography.

why I like it: actually you know what, before I go any further, let me skip ahead a bit and add three more panels with this same energy.

I just really, really love these rare moments when all differences between them are momentarily forgotten and they’re just two teenage boys caught up in the intense pressure of an awkward social situation. the one enemy neither of them is the least bit equipped to handle. anyways Horikoshi clearly enjoys it too because he seems to delight in drawing it over and over and over.

why I like it: because it’s more billowing smoke and dust. because it’s Endeavor, the guy we all swore we would never ever root for, and then 160 chapters later Horikoshi pulls this shit without an ounce of shame. because it’s All Might’s pose, but tweaked juuuuuust enough so that Enji can avoid copyright claims. because he knew that pose well enough to know which arm not to use. because Endeavor is a profoundly flawed human being, wholly incapable of filling the void All Might left behind. and yet he still tries. because it’s better than nothing, and because it’s all he can do. it’s the one thing he can do, his sole redeeming virtue. he tries. he doesn’t give up. anyway so yeah, Horikoshi didn’t have to take the single most unlikable person in the entire manga and give him the world’s most controversial and openly scorned redemption arc. but he did! and I think it’s one of the best things about this entire manga.

why I like it: because nothing in BnHA is just black and white!! it’s messy and layered and complex, just like in the real world. Shouto despised his dad for almost his entire life. with good reason! Enji was abusive and selfish and treated his son more like a prized possession than a person. we as readers are fully aware of all of this, and we sympathize with Shouto 100%, and that’s completely by design. Horikoshi is well aware of this. so for him to still give us this little moment, where Shouto is so relieved that Enji survived that he drops to the floor and presses his face against his hands in this little prayer gesture -- whatever you think it might mean -- is just so fucking powerful, and again speaks to his commitment to refusing to let anything in this series be completely clear-cut and unambiguous. I love that the characterization of Shouto and Natsu hating their dad exists side by side with the equally authentic characterization of them being terrified that they’re about to watch him die. because those two things aren’t contradictory! sometimes that’s just how it is. anyway so this is a beautiful moment of nuance that instantly adds so much to this relationship with just a single panel.

why I like it: for once the symbolism is so obvious that even I can’t fail to miss it! Izuku’s face half in light and half in shadow as he thinks about the power bestowed on him. “All for One’s power.” anyway so in my mind Izuku having AFO could not be any more fucking foreshadowed if he was wearing a freaking t-shirt with the Musketeers saying on it and the background was peppered with little Sistine Chapel-esque images of AFO giving his quirk to his brother lmao. but regardless of how it does end up playing out, this is nicely done.

why I like it: I wasn’t sure whether I should include this image, given that I just made a whole separate post about it a few days ago. but I just really like it, okay. this is one of the all-time great entrances in the series. Bakugou being perched on that pole for absolutely no reason other than to add visual interest. Todoroki’s hair blowing dramatically in the wind. Katsuki’s frayed pant hems and characteristically asymmetrical facial expression. the fact that you just know both of them spent the ride home with their faces pressed to the windows of their taxi cab hoping desperately for an opportunity to break in their brand new licenses, and then lo and behold. that’s amazing you guys. it’s almost like you’re main characters or something.

why I like it: they did great.

why I like it: because I lost my fucking shit at this fucking reveal and can you even blame me?? we knew coming in how much trouble Endeavor and Hawks had dealing with just one of these Noumus, and then Horikoshi goes and divulges that the villains have at least A DOZEN MORE waiting on standby. including Hood right there in the foreground, which is a fantastic touch! this panel, for me, almost instantaneously established the League as a legitimate threat once again, and gave me the kind of spine-tingly evil vibes I hadn’t felt since the Kamino arc. and while the payoff might not quite have lived up to my expectations, the Mirko fight at least was more than worth it.

why I like it: BILLOWING SMOKE AND DUST CLOUDS. you just see this vast landscape of destruction that Tomura has oh-so-casually wrought, and this once-powerful enemy utterly defeated on his hands and knees bowing before him. and it’s just like, oh. Tomura just became a fucking king, didn’t he. he finally stepped up and became the main villain. really the main villain, not just an awkward fumbling NEET whose adopted dad is not-so-secretly pulling all the strings. he did this himself. he went out and conquered and Awakened and won himself a fucking army. and he’s just standing there so cool and casual in the aftermath of it all. and then he goes “oh wait, you guys have money right, that means you can buy us the good sushi.” yes, Tomura. yes.

why I like it: um because this panel is fucking amazing?? hello?? do I really need to explain this one. the detail is jaw-dropping. he’s got the little scars which are either from the head wound that caused his death, or from his Noumufication. his expression is fucking heartbreaking, and the transition from Kumo to Kuro is so subtle and seamless, and yet it distinctly is both of them. this panel is gorgeous and fucking haunting and almost made me gasp when I first saw it.

why I like it: the decision to have the night sky take up so much of the space in the panel was [chef kiss]. nothing says existential like the night sky on a cold winter’s night.

why I like it: this is the best panel in the entire fucking series.

why I like it: dude. showing his actual family holding onto him with their hands in the same spot as the severed fashion!hands was a stroke of genius in and of itself. but combining that with the emotional tension of them desperately trying to hold him back and protect him from AFO?? that’s just so fucking smooth it’s almost inhuman. just how much meaning can you cram into a single image?? sometimes I wonder just how far in advance Horikoshi plans these things.

why I like it: guess I’m just a big fat sucker for panels of Tomura calmly standing around in the ruins of his own senseless destruction. the sense of scale on this one is really great, too. and yet again, those dust clouds. gotta love it.

why I like it: because Tomura literally appears out of nowhere, like he’s ripping a hole through the fabric of time and space. it’s so fucking sudden and he looks evil as FUCK, and Deku and Kacchan are totally caught off-guard, and it is scary. this is one of those panels that made me say “holy shit” out loud. in fact I practically screamed it. and the angles are all funky and weird, and the sky is all BLACK FOR NO REASON, and it really just feels like Tomura could reach right over and just MURDER THEM like it was nothing. just like that. this panel is so incredibly effective at conveying how hopelessly outclassed the boys are. they’re not even in his league, and it’s honestly terrifying.

and on that happy note, we have come to the end of my list of favorite panels! and I gotta say, it’s really gratifying that a good deal of them are from this year alone. I said it in another post a few days ago, but imo the overall quality of the series has been insanely high as of late, and it honestly just blows my mind whenever I stop to think about it. the art is still this good six years into the game. the story is still this good. we are spoiled goddammit.

[in-tua-deep]

tua rewatch with the roommate

Episode five

Oh fuck the “I found you. all your bodies.” scene

“We died?” “Horribly.” throwback to the ben convo o o f

“If perfectly arranged under rubble and otherwise unharmed counts as ‘horribly”’  - roommate

I like that Diego says he’s going to kill Hazel and Cha-Cha like it’s a challenge?? lol five doesn’t care if they live or die he only cares if u do you big dumbass

“Well I know none of the main characters die bc there’s a season 2... and i’m pretty sure they’re all in s2... like all of the family?”

I mean luther is kind of valid for being frustrated that five didn’t share about the apocalypse but also like,,, the first person five told about it (Vanya) suggested he might be insane. so. i can understand some reluctance on his part on top of the whole “the last time my siblings fought this the Whole World Died Including Them i would like them as far away from apocalypse stuff as possible”

okay okay so five says “they turned me into the perfect instrument” so do y’all think that implies experimentation like in the comics or ????

all i can think about during the kennedy scene though is my high school history teacher. he went over the assassination in intimate detail and i’m pretty sure he was writing a book about it and everything. mr. hansen if you’re out there - 

i like feral beard five more than mustache five tbh if i’m picking 

“Someone ELSE shot the president? Was he supposed to shoot kennedy or was he supposed to kill the person who shot kennedy?” - Roommate

love that five tells luther to grow up over murder,,, though to be valid pretty sure they did actually murder people as kids SO. grow down?

fuck i love mary,, will you love me like you loved me in the january rain??? just shoot me in the heart

GOD rob is such a good actor

“wait a second... how is he wearing pants?” oh roommate you have a big storm coming

i have some serious questions about the commission and their methods of communication. where do?? the tubes come from? where do they go after?

Allison: i have a bad feeling [about leonard]

where are these instincts for everything else tho??? her marriage?

“Vanya. she really is trying to look out for you. i really would trust her. you could invite her to come along so she can see he’s perfectly fine??” - Roommate, whose instincts regarding not trusting leonard-harold are spot on

apparently my roommate knows people who put salt in their coffee. i have. so many questions.

“That’s suspicious?? that’s suspicious right?? did he do that? is he a secret serial killer? is he a FUCKING secret serial killer?” roommate when they talk about helen cho going missing

“What do you mean stop showing up it’s been like. a day” - I mean. the roommate has a point. 

Klaus’s depression bath is a mood :(

did klaus put eye shadow on before his bath or did he get his hands on eye shadow in vietnam?? the questions that will never be answered

Five is so enthusiastic about having someone who understands... he doesn’t even notice absolutely Not Being In The Mood,, klaus is grieving and five is just like !!! where did you go!!!! like it was a vacation

klaus: yeah i’m ten months older now. when i’m done being depressed i will lord that over diego for the rest of our natural lives.

does five write in all caps all the time?? why? 

roommate: I wonder what the upper size limit on the knives her can use. like is it machete length? forearm length? what are the limits on his powers. if he sharpened a very sharp mechanical pencil could he use it? if he sharpened a piece of the chandelier? at what point does something become a knife?

me: could he hurl mia (my cat)? mia and her knife feet?

allison also writes in all caps to write leonard’s address

we stan agnes and hazel in this household

“I never said we didn’t !! i just thought she was just a random extra in the first episode and every time we cut away i think that’s the last we’ve seen of her” - roommate because i keep saying that this is an agnes stan household

“OH THERE’S THE PATCHWORK COAT i was afraid it didn’t come back” - okay though good question he definitely didn’t have the coat on the bus. what is it with klaus and his magically appearing coat????

oh :(  oh klaus :(  every time klaus is sad i am also sad :(

honestly a family conversation IS the threat in this family

god though this random vet in this bar is actually an asshole though like. klaus doesn’t owe him shit. klaus served. he’s clearly having a moment with the photo. that could have been a family member or something who died i don’t even know

agnes: i’m a twitcher :)

“like a twitch streamer?” -Roommate

PLEASE give me twitch streamer!Agnes au

look i just enjoy hazel and agnes

roommate: honey you’re too young for her

me: NO DON’T BE MEAN TO THEM,,, agnes deserves a boytoy

“does diego drive a manual?” my roommate once again focusing on things that i do not

five: i have to find the people whose deaths could save the timeline

my roommate: is it agnes?? is he going to kill agnes????

i’m still laughing about that fact that luther is holding dolores.... over the fire escape... she couldn’t drop that far lads

luther’s dumb sometimes but he does have some nice heart to hearts with his brother,,,, honestly he and five get along pretty well in the early episodes. kindred spirits. body dysmorphia and isolation squad.

my roommate has to keep remembering social media doesn’t exist in this universe

i am still confused as to why

that won’t stop me from giving everyone iphones and youtube accounts in my aus though

diego can curve ANYTHING he throws, usually knives, according to cha-cha’s research. but that doesn’t explain the spoilers i have seen about s2 sO

Klaus: You also told me that licking a nine volt battery would give me pubes

HOW DID I FORGET THAT LINE

oh diego got a bullet graze forgot about that as well?? does he ever get like. medical attention for that? diego?????

it really has been like. maybe two days since helen cho died. is no one??? concerned????? they just immediately jump into replacing her??????????????????? hellO? 

“very clear camera angles to show that this actress did not actually play the violin for this role” - i mean that’s fair but ellen is trying rip

me: who’s your favorite character so far?  roommate: that’s a tricky question. klaus is very entertaining to watch. allison is the most reasonable and i’m very interested to know, well, she seems like the best combination of reasonable and has the least selfish intentions. diego and luther i feel like are both good in a bland way in that they’re both doing good in the best way they can which usually involves punching people. five is fun. five is very fun. five is as fun to watch as klaus, they’re both very fun actors to watch on screen. they’re more expressive than diego and luther tend to be.  me: so which is your favorite?????  roommate: first instinct says allison, though she probably has the least dynamic or interesting arc so far

are hazel and cha-cha the best because their victims never see them coming?? like. they aren’t really THAT competent.

“I do LOVE the aesthetic of an ice cream truck playing ride of the valkyries” - my roommate is valid

“LOVE the hypersaturated background in this scene. it’s more fun that having it be desaturated.”

five looks so baby in this scene with the handler :(

still unsure where five got that handgun but i’m vibing

hate when she touches his face !! awful!!!

the handler’s little “all of them??” like yeAH ALL OF THEM even though they irritate the living FUCK out of each other. siblings man

ben gets shotgun for the getaway !!! go ben!

“I’m starting to think... given how space and reality seemed to be warping during her playing... that her medication... isn’t for anxiety...” - oh, oh roommate

ah i blocked out the leonard vanya make out as well

“DIDN’T YOU MEET HIM TWO DAYS AGO?” - yeah i feel u roommate

yup there’s helen’s body

“CSI call crime scene investigation - that’s going to start to smell real soon”

pogo: and you understand that the children can never know

me: actually pogo fuck you

and that’s episode 5 everyone thank you and goodnight

episode six

i do love a good flashback to klaus

klaus: sees a shirtless soldier and instantly falls in love

they don’T EVEN QUESTION HIM just “KATZ GET THIS MAN A PAIR OF PANTS” and they go with it?? he just APPEARED and they don’t even care

klaus was really just vibing in the 60s huh

wait this is like 1962 or 63 right

when does s2 take place?? also the 60s right???

didn’t kennedy die in 1963 i feel like what i know about s2 contradicts that date but i could have sworn they said a round trip to 1963??????

luther is SUCH A MOOD in the family briefing.

“aww he’s a bad liar” - roommate

“I realize that [the umbrella] was necessary for the title drop but where the fuck did that come from”

@ the handler please stop touching five,,, but also five has such. non reactions to her touching him. which worries me. like she grabs his shoulder walking alongside him and he doesn’t even look at her

why are there gas masks in the briefcase room...

can you IMAGINE if your boss toted a child into the room and introduced him as the Legendary Time Travelling Assassin that the whole office had a betting pool over who would die that one time and is Definitely approaching 60 not 13... and then called him LEADERSHIP MATERIAL. implying that this child will probably get a promotion before you do?? can you IMAGINE?

“again... two days ago...” roommate about leonard and vanya

vanya really chose literally just the worst time to come back to the academy huh

okay but vanya going off?? valid, but also,, i mean. it IS their dads fault that they don’t have any relationship with vanya?

luther: it’s about the moon  roommate: critical role moon theory

hey like. how did the family get together in the first timeline holy fuck. it’s hard enough to get them together when they Literally Know The World Is Going To End

so remember diego getting grazed with a bullet yeah well he has a sling on now which makes sense!! and yet. when five got grazed by a bullet he SLAPS A BANDAID ON IT. someone please address this.

five is such an asshole coworker i love it

i wonder if dot is a mother. or just a nice coworker. she keeps trying to talk to him and invite him to lunch aww

i wonder if it’s purposeful on the handler’s part to call him “mr. five” instead of “mr. hargreeves” to like... further isolate him from his family? by removing his last name they’re sort of removing his ties to his siblings considering it’s not like they’re related by blood

forgot how much i hate the bathroom scene !! wow !! hate it so much!!! there’s so many violations of social etiquette in such a short scene! it’s so deeply uncomfortable!

luther: stop it pogo! you know everything our dad did

i am remembering once again how much i hate pogo all over again!! reginald literally locked klaus in a mausoleum!! he abused the kids! pogo didn’t even speak up about sending luther to the MOON,,, oh luther :(

he just learned his dad exiled him for no reason he has lots of rights his entire world view was just shattered wow i am like infinitely more sympathetic to luther on the second watch

“I knew allison and luther was a thing. you told me allison and luther was a weird thing. still not a fan.” - my very valid roommate

they could have made the fort so much more sibling-y instead of romantic and it would have been so much better honestly

oh dave :(

“I wonder who her primary care physician is and if she can find out what that medication was...” roommate i wish i knew

“I’m trying to decide if he knew ahead to time to try and get at her specifically or like... i don’t know when he took the figurine I was like ‘doesn’t he own an antique shop is he there to steal antiques from the family home’.” roommate on leonard

forgot the handler gifted five a suit. also don’t like that. don’t like her talk about his body and everything either.

“is it too much to ask to give him two outfits? one he can wear now and one with the new body?” - roommate

honestly with hazel’s talk on budget cuts i’m not surprised he only gets one suit

STOP TOUCHING HIS FACE,,,, HANDLER. STOP TOUCHING HIS FACE

five and his sweet tooth. don’t take the candy five. come on. what did your father TEACH YOU. honestly reggie probably was like “let them get kidnapped it will probably teach them a life lesson”

“there were like... villages that needed rebuilding after disasters. he could have been sending these packages to legit lunar research facilities. legit facilities would have adored to have that information.” 

okay but people KNEW he was on the moon. cha-cha mentioned it. it was in vanya’s book. why were scientists not knocking down reginald’s door demanding the research??? if i was a moon scientist i would have the mansion staked out trying to demand info jesus

“love his eye fluttering in the way of ‘oh shit i got something in my eye i can’t break character scene is still going scene is stILL GOING’“ - hilarious observations from the allison luther fort scene 2.0: grown up version that gets erased

did they just leave the fort up all those years. did no one USE the green house??? did grace lovingly work around it all that time?

oh :(  dave :(

grace is capable of lying and pogo is a shadowy motherfucker

“okay now that they’re actually putting it into the plot i understand why you don’t think he’s trustworthy but you really got on my back about that”

in my defense i just hate him tbh i did not like him when he first showed up and i never particularly liked him tbh

allison: i think you’re the only person who knows who i am and likes me anyway

me, remembering the theory that allison rumored luther to love her: HMMMMMM

okay but i think the luther and allison dance scene is fucking HILARIOUS. absolutely ridiculous. i mean i hate that it’s incest but also the fucking LIGHTS DESCENDING. the RANDOM WARDROBE CHANGE. 

roommate likes the green underskirt thing under allison’s random dance dress

are they just doing this in public???

ugh. the kiss. ugh. erased that from my memory as well

“they clearly want romance in this show but they painted themselves into a corner with the siblings thing” - roommate

five and his fucking STAPLERS isn’t this the second time he’s knocked someone out with a stapler?? the bank robber and now gloria??

five please your siblings were finally doing some decent work on their own issues :/

five is the kind of dramatic as fuck entrances 

“love how he just grabs [allison’s] coffee. kid needs a coffee after all that.” - roommate

five actually does a good job of rallying the siblings though?? they just broke the fuck up in the og timeline

“something tells me that harold jenkins might be leonard”

oh roommate

episode seven

uh oh harold was born

i feel vaguely bad for him

“me the night before a convention” - roommate on harold’s tape and cosplay and everything

okay but how did reginald even KNOW harold jenkins had no powers?? did he? keep tabs on all the forty some kids not just the seven he kept?

but also why the fuck are these people laughing at An Actual Child fuck all of them honestly

“did HE kill hargreeves?? I mean. he’s got motive.” - roommate

harold really said “i think my superpower is actually this hammer motherfucker”

how did he get twelve years?? was he tried as an adult?? was he in juvie? how old WAS he

twelve years ago... they’re 29 soooo seventeen? he did NOT look seventeen? he was NOT seventeen in that flashback what???

roommate theorizes that harold ran off after the murder and committed petty crimes until caught and tried for murder when he was seventeen so was maybe 13 in the flashback

okay so i looked up the timeline and he got out in 2014 or something so he was like 13 in the flashback which makes SO much more sense honestly but also what the FUCK was he doing for five years

“he’s actually laying out all the facts as he knows them and I appreciate that.” -roommate about five briefing the team

five?? the only member of the family with communication skills? it’s? somehow more likely than you think?

“allison’s pants that she’s wearing now are the most perfectly tailored things i’ve ever seen. not even a wrinkle when she’s standing still. do you know how hard that is to do?” again my roommate noticing the things i absolutely do not

five. five. you have a GUT WOUND and also jumped a BUNCH OF TIMES. you are not blinking into the police station and getting the file. you need some SLEEP. and REST. and WOUND CARE FIVE FOR FUCK’S SAKE. you still have a GUNSHOT GRAZE on your upper arm and a SLICE on your wrist from DIGGING OUT A TRACKER. FIVE.

diego wants to be batman SO BAD.

five crossing his arms and Not Uncrossing Them because he’s literally HOLDING HIMSELF TOGETHER.

wow luther is really handling this so much worse in this timeline rip

luther is losing validity points for CHOKING KLAUS i knew this happened but i didn’t remember how awful it was !!! bad and terrible! and luther is very drunk and very sad and very angry. oh. he’s saying he never left the house and never had friends for nothing :(

klaus had the realization that reggie was an asshole YEARS ago and he’s just kind of like “aww. luther :(” 

klaus is trying so hard

“Klaus has had the most heart to hearts with the most siblings honestly.” - roommate

allison at the beginning making her laugh in the office with the EYES, five on the steps of meritech, diego after the vet bar, luther on the couch...

wow cha cha really thought hazel was talking about how meaningful his partnership was with her when he was talking about agNES

five limping up the lawn and staggering up the stairs and clinging to the rails baBY SIT DOWN. YOU ARE BLEEDING.

“inspiring leadership” “one of the greats” what a sibling moment honestly.

five really said “i think i will pass the fuck out now”

five really said “hey i am literally willing to die for this mission because this mission is the safety and lives of my entire family and i love you guys :(”

except he doesn’t because five is decent at information sharing but getting feelings out of him feels like pulling teeth at times smh

is leonard trying to vicariously live his “normal child born on the umbrella academy day discovers they have had powers the WHOLE TIME” dream through vanya??

we yell about how leonard and vanya have known each other for like a week but i mean same for hazel and agnes!! he’s literally asking her to run away with him and she says yes !!!!! agnes is here for the romantic adventure with this man she’s really living her first hot girl summer and living for it

“she’s having her own little rom com! she thinks she’s living in a rom com not a dark sci fi!” - roommate accurate as usual

she just called ben the emotional support ghost and i mean... she ain’t wrong

honestly klaus should have just left luther to his rave, he didn’t get to party in his teens or during his college years or anything

i do appreciate the viking yell of “B R O T H E R” that luther greets klaus with though because that’s exactly how i greet my own siblings whenever i see them

oh klaus :(

oh klaus :(

he’s having war flashbacks, cravings, is in withdrawal, AND experiencing sensory overload while reliving one of the more traumatizing moment of his life

oh klaus :(

five in a bed for the second time of the season which is nice for him. if only the first time wasn’t because he passed out drunk and the second time wasn’t because of a whole shrapnel wound. i am now that captain of the Let Five Sleep brigade holy SHIT like at least they imply that the others sleep five is just feral and ready to go at all times

are the police allowed to just. remove someone’s arm sling? is that permitted? his arm could be fucked up? i mean. it is? he was shot?

“I saw everything my brothers and sister could do ruin their lives” VANYA some REALIZATION up in here,,,, admitting that the umbrella academy wasn’t exactly a desirable place to be is actually some real growth for her and leonard just fucking shuts her down? fuck that man

VANYA SEE THE RED FLAGS FOR WHAT THEY ARE COME ON

oh klaus :(  oh luther :(  oh :(

“love his corset side pants, like benedict from violet evergarden” - on the topic of Klaus’s pants

“I made everyone else so I must have made you” says god except for the fact that the kids just... surprise popped up instead of coming about the natural way. maybe god DIDN’T made them????????

oh klaus :(  prepare for disappointment :(

oh i didn’t notice the photos of the umbrella academy in the barbershop the first time i watched this

so klaus gives an age for the mausoleum... thirteen... do you think that was before or after five left? statistically it’s probably after bc it was only a couple of months after they turned thirteen that five vanished

Klaus’s “we were just kids” breaks my heart every time

if i was one of reggie’s kids i would have just not gone to the funeral. rip to the hargreeves kids but i’m different

he doesn’t even call klaus klaus in death, he still calls klaus number four. fuck that man.

“i was gonna say i’d have been very very surprised if they kept him dead” - roommate on klaus waking up

“Five bucks says he set these guys up to try and get something out of her” - the roommate being very perceptive

cha cha is VERY rude to my girl agnes

honestly why DIDN’T hazel just kill cha cha after her whole speech and threats about killing agnes slowly in front of him???? like he literally watched her try to kill him as well

why wasn’t diego arrested in the original day that wasn’t actually?? he was being considered already. he still left the house, albeit with grace instead of allison. why wasn’t he arrested then???????? 

roommate thinks it’s interesting how committed the show is to their old timey shit. she used a nicer words like anachronisms but the point is: w h y

are these episodes even longer than i remember?? holy SHIT

[detroit-become-human-analyze]

Is Daniel/Simon (PL600) a sexual companion like North or a Traci?

Analyzing the game again, a controversy has sparked because of this picture, so let’s take a look at how much of “canon” (real game canon) might or not be behind it:

Now, we see this PL-500 picture that clearly states that, although “romantic mode” is optional, the PL-500 is intended as a intimate (sexual) partner, and if one thing we’ve notice from the androids in this game is that the first two letters usually determine “the category” (just like RK are military/police, or the YK are children). And there are two major characters on the game that are later versions of this “PL-500”, and that is the PL-600 Daniel and Simon, that although are described as “household/caretakers/companions”, it’s never specified up to what point.., and possibly the fact that they can cook meals and care for your kids is actually the NEW feature, as PLs where originally sexual/romantic companions on previous models.

This is never actually “explicit” but it’s weirdly hinted during the entire game. - So, we mostly see Daniel, a PL-600 android during the chapter “The Hostage” (witch is also the demo of the game) and maybe a bit of him (depending on what you do) at the end on the chapter “Last Chance Connor”, but we can all conclude that Daniel life was at the house of the Phillips.

At first glance everything was good at the Phillips house, and, there’s even this very nice picture of them as soon as you get off the elevator with Connor.

Connor is given very little time to determinate the best approach to rescue the hostage (Emma) from their now deviant android Daniel.

One of the first interesting things I’ve noticed, despite the fact that the Phillips are actually quite rich to be living in such an apartment (during such rough economic times in Detroit, as Kara sees it on the trip at the beginning, on Todd car), is that the mother never, EVER says ANYTHING about her dead husband. Never laments or screams or even mentions it (her husband is right there dead on the living-room, I mean...), Caroline Phillips (little Emma’s mother) is only focus on saving her daughter, and spitefully says “keep that thing away from my daughter” referring Connor, but we all assume her hate is shared to all androids (witch it’s odd, she owns one that even plays with her daughter).

This very vaguely hints the mother of the house has a quarrel with androids (for some reason) from BEFORE the incident at hand, and when you go see Captain Allen, you walk into the main bedroom.

One thing that caught my eye is that, despite having a household android, it’s nighttime and the incident has being occurring -since one hour- before Connor arrival (meaning an hour ago wasn’t the morning either, you see this on the news on the fridge area), AND, for some reason, the bed sheets are all messed up on the parent’s bedroom.

If you (Connor) analyze/re-construct where Daniel got the gun of the father, you see he never touches the bed when he goes for the gun.

I doubt Captain Allen is letting his SWAT team fool around in the bed, so that’s discarded.

The father of the family (the now “late” John Phillips) has being watching TV and using the tablet to order another android... so... why are the sheets on the parent’s bedroom undone?

If the wife was suffering depression or simply “in bed”, she would have seen Daniel go into the room in panic and get/load the gun right in front of her.

This indicates that possibly the mother was either out of the house at the moment of the event, or somewhere else (the bathroom, etc).

If you examine Emma’s room you will see that she was listening to music, as Connor concludes that this is why Emma didn’t heard the shooting, again, the mother must have being out, if not, she would have heart the entire thing... but there is a darker twist as to why Emma might have being with her music full on... Yes, there is a high provability that John Phillips, “dear old dad”, was having sex with Daniel in the bedroom next door, and there is a grater chance that obviously this was “a regular thing”. Therefore a broken relationship with his wife and that “rich people perfect family photo” was just a charade, thus, also, why “mom was out of the house”. - Even if all evidence is circumstantial, it just fits right in too fast and too perfectly to ignore in a game that pays so much attention to details and talks so much about abusive relationships and dysfunctional families.

Connor can reconstruct events but not “audio”, if you examine the late John Phillips body, you will see that Daniel stood up behind him and they actually had “a talk” BEFORE Daniel starts shooting.

By the food that was left overcooking in the kitchen, the bet is that “dad” had it with Daniel at the main bedroom (maybe even realizing at that point that having sex with the same android was “getting boring”, thus, since they obviously have the money, start considering buying another “sex android toy”).

Then Daniel went to do dinner, oversaw the same men that just had sex with him ordering another “replacement” android, got pissed off like a lover would (this is very common actually, a couple or sexual/romantic partner shooting the other if they know that they’ll being left for “someone else”), run to the bedroom, takes the gun, confronts John (his lover) verbally, Daniel finally snaps, shots him to death, and then runs (like a mother would), to get Emma.

Possibly THAT was the moment where Caroline Phillips returned to the apartment and Daniel saw/heard the elevator blocked, so he head outside.

Now, another interesting thing is that Daniel has a very close relationship with Emma (the little girl), almost “motherly like”, up to the point in witch after shooting the dad, the first thing he can think of is taking Emma (much like Kara when shooting Todd and gets Alice).

Sure, then in desperation and confusion, is shoot by the first cop that arrives and everything escalates “pretty quickly”, but any mother would tell you that after a traumatic event, the first thing you get with you is your kids.

This talks a lot about how Daniel at least “felt” he was indeed one of Emma’s parents, he has a mother instinct until Emma starts to reject him due to the situation and he realized that the girl doesn’t see him the way “he sees her”, feeling all the more betrayed.

* On a side note:

If you see where Daniel and Emma video (tablet, Emma’s room) was taken, you will see the background well enough to realize it’s the same park that Markus cross every time he goes to get paintings for Carl Manfred. - As we established before, Markus is a “patient zero” regarding deviancy.

Markus has the “virus” of deviancy (possibly implanted by Kamski itself before giving him as a “gift” to Carl Manfred), and unaware of it, spreads it to any android near him (remember the “androids are constantly shearing information, and during Freedom March, when Markus becomes aware of his ability, he can turn deviants from almost a couple blocks away from his location).

Then, if the infected android gets into a traumatic or emotional event, the “symptoms” of deviation occur. - Thus, there is a high chance that Markus infected Daniel with deviancy without even noticing when crossing the park one day, and the detonating stressful emotional trauma was later on when Daniel saw, what he obviously considered “his family” replacing him.

Simon, being also a PL-600, has also relevant behaviors to that matter, especially regarding Markus.

For instance, it’s only him and North the only ones who can “give Markus their heart” (source of power, AKA “battery”) if Markus gets wounded during the violent final protest. - This is interesting because while North might or not have an “intimate relationship” with Markus at that point, and Simon validates his point by “if you (Markus) die, our cause dies with you” kind of thing, he does seems a lot emotionally involved, and, plus... Why isn’t there a scene where, let’s say, equally important character like Josh, offers to sacrifice himself too for the good of the cause??? (let’s say you never develop a relationship with North, you let Simon die at some point, and, North being an egocentric psycho-maniac that only wants to “kill and burn”, I guess Josh would have had more chances to give his life for “the cause”).

* By the way, North has NO excuse, I’ve already explained this before, she killed (strangled) the human that “rent her” (so her immediate abuser is already dead), but also she wants to kill all other humans as well, AND!, she is quickly to say “let’s kill androids too”, so... other androids are North “victims” too, either it’s because she wants to fight and they’re being slaughter, or because “Shoot Simon!” (when, there where a lot other options).

By the way, this scene where Simon gets shot at the roof is one that makes you wonder, developers (as it’s obvious in the EdenClub chapter and Hank later reflections over it, as if it was a future where all sexuality is embraced as normal), have no issue regarding the sexual orientation of any character (if per-se’ androids are genderless and only assigned a gender to look like humans making interactions more comfortable). - If you take the gun and follow North “orders” to shoot Simon on the roof, you’ll be given a second chance to reconsider things, as Simon reminds you that “there is always another way”, but it’s up to you (Markus). - If you decide to put the gun down (disappointing North lust for blood of any color), next time this two characters meet, they hug each other very warmly, ...witch isn’t odd given that Markus thought that Simon was death and left behind... but still, quite an emotional response, because this isn’t Kara and Alice “hugging all the time”.

Add to this, during the Freedom March, Simon, being basically “the coward” throughout the whole game and avoiding conflict, if Markus gets shot (and you don’t have any other androids that came with you from the where house of Cyberlife), jumps into the fight like crazy and even dies for Markus at that point. - This goes basically against every fiber of Simon good judgment and behavior traits from the star, he is always scared and passive, even pessimistic regarding the android revolution although it supports it.

Conclusions:

Overall there aren’t hard evidence, there isn’t a “fools-proof” signature telling you any of this things, but when too many circumstantial evidence piles up, you also have a case...

The entirety of the situation with Daniel might be interpreted differently, if you stretch things up, to a more “innocent like” explanation (that I personally don’t see how could fit at this point). And trust me, this blog is for analyzing the main canon of the official game, if there was any other feeling or evidence, I would point it out... but some things are beyond any explaining, like why the bed is all messed up at night if you have a domestic android just to take care of stuff like that (even Kara makes Todd’s bed).

So, for me, the first chapter (or “demo”) sums up the end of an abusive relationship on a love triangle that torn apart a marriage and a family (like even Magazines during the game indicate, that because of “sex androids” couples where getting divorced).

But tell me what you think or if you have found any other evidence that points out otherwise!

[imaginesmai]

Taron Egerton - Hypothetically

This is my first Taron Egerton fic, I hope you like it!! This is for the bunch of people who have been requesting me to do something about Taron. Most of them were anon and requested some alphabets. I don’t think I can do that about him, becuase that’s what I find most difficult.

Plot: you find something that you didn’t mean to in Taron’s tablet, and you wish it had been porn.

It started accidentally. You were working and needed to look something up, but your computer was maxed out running a new program, so you picked up Taron’s tablet which he had left on the table. He had never been particularly previous about keeping his stuff to himself – in fact, he had configured your fingerprints to let you in – so you helped yourself without asking and opened his browser.

A white with golden ornaments webpage greeted you. It took you a while to understand what was it about, because it was early in the morning and because you didn’t read what the website was about. Once you squinted your eyes and looked thoughtfully at the title, you almost passed out.

Taron had been reading about weddings. Specifically, top ten places to have a wedding and impress your girlfriend.  

Eyes widening, you dropped the device on the table with a clatter. Hearing Taron bustling in the small kitchen of your cute vintage aparment, you shoved it back in place awkwardly, and forced your eyes back to your own flickering screen. Suddenly, friction coefficients didn’t seem so important.

“Y/N?”

You jumped out of your skin and turned to see him sticking his head around the door. The sight would have been funny if you weren’t so nervous; he was wearing a hairnet and a glittering apron. He gave you a slightly concerned frown.

“Are you… alright?”

“Yeah! Fine, thanks. Sorry, just… working” you chuckled, pressing random keys on the computer. “I was just concentrating”

“I bet it’s on something really smart” he teased, and you gave him your most real smile. “Sorry for startling you”

“No, it’s okay. Fine. I’m fine!” your voice sounded unnaturally high-pitched even for you.

Taron’s concern didn’t seem to entirely abate, extremely reasonably given your babbling, so he stepped closer and dropped a gentle hand on your shoulder. Despite everything, something about him was always so perfectly solid, comforting and safe that you found yourself breathing almost normally again.

You turned up to him and smiled; not even that forced. Taron liked to get into his characters in the most strange ways, so maybe he had just been looking it up for his new film. You repeated that to yourself at least twenty times in your head, while he massaged your shoulder in a gentle way. There was no way you had just discovered him looking up ideas for your weeding.

“I’m okay, really” you assured him. You gripped his wrist with your hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Just a bit stressed over the project”

“The astrophysics one?”

You had been working on a new project for college for a few months, wanting to be as perfect as possible. It was your last work before graduating on your master, and if everything went well, you would be able to get a real job in a few weeks. Taron had been very helpful on the way, taking care of you when you forgot and being there in every moment.

Nodding, you looked back to the screen.

“It’s almost over, just a few more details”

“You’re gonna do amazing” he bent down and kissed your cheek. “And I’m gonna brag so hard about my physic girlfriend”

Girlfriend. Not wife, or at least not yet. Muttering a quick ‘love you’, Taron turned back to the kitchen; and you gave the forgotten tablet a side glance, checking that it hadn’t been all a dream.

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

“Okay, what is with you?” Betty, your best friend, demanded the next day. “I’ve just told you three times what happened last night with Brian, and you still have to give the talk about going back with my ex. And I don’t buy that you suddenly like him. ”

You shook your head and finally looked over your friend. She was visiting you for a few hours, and was updating you from life back at home while you two had coffee in a beautiful café you found when you arrived. Betty lived back home, working in a supermarket, while you had to travel away to be with Taron. So it was a rare occasion, to see both of you together, and you were completely wasting it because you couldn’t stop thinking about the tablet.

You sighed, and tried to remember what she was talking about as you looked down to your coffee. It had a weird shape made on the top – and it wasn’t as if you only though about it, but it looked like a ring to you.

“He’s an asshole, I don’t know why you go out with him. But I love you anyway” you repeated like a mantra. Everytime you met, Betty had gone back to his ex-boyfriend, a boy who didn’t deserve her, so you thought it wouldn’t be very hard to keep the conversation going.

It didn’t go that well.

“I’ve just told you that I’ve blocked him, so I’m gonna assume you haven’t heard an inch of what I’ve said” she rubbed a tired hand over the bridge of her nose, and finally looked at you with a raised brow. “All right, what has he done now?”

You blinked at Betty. It was disingenuous to pretend you didn’t know who ‘he’ was meant to be, but you found her easy perception disconcerting.

“Nothing!” you shook your hand, and sighed, because lying to a spy would be as useful as watering an artificial plant. “Not really – I just, borrowed his table and accidentally saw some of his browsing history.”

Betty’s eyebrows rose higher than you thought possible, and you sighed. She wasn’t the person you wanted to talk about that; actually, you didn’t want to talk about it to anyone. But you had the impression that if you didn’t you would just explode. Before you had time to explain, Betty talked.

“Looking at porn is normal in –“

“Not that!” you interrupted her. “He was reading stuff… about weddings. And I know it’s probably nothing and just some background reading for his new movie – although I thought it was about spies. But I was kinda shocked? And for some reason my brain won’t shut off and keeps thinking about it.”

Betty snorted with laughter and then just kept laughing. You grumbled and turned back to your coffee, blush on your cheeks.

“Your life is turning into the worst sort of romantic comedy” she laughed. “Come on, what did you expect? We’re talking about Taron! The boy asked you to move in the third month of your relationship! What will be the next chapter? Kids? Retirement plans? I bet he has – “

“Shut up” you mumbled.

It was true that your relationship with the actor had been… rushed. You had met him through a mutual friend, and within the first month of talking, he had already invited you on a date. He was perfect in every way you could imagine; attentive, funny, handsome, gentle and affectionate. He always put you first when it came to decisions, and you were sure he would drop everything if he asked you to do so.

Thoughts about Taron plagued your mind and you smiled sheepishly.

“Then ask him” Betty shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “If you’re not worried about spoiling the surprise, of course”

“But it has been merely a year!” voicing out your concerns didn’t make you feel any better.

“So? My mom proposed to my dad three months after they started dating”

“Aren’t your parents divorced?”

“And not in talking terms”

You buried your face in your arms and closed your eyes tightly. It seemed, like it wasn’t going to be an easy task. Betty’s phone rang and you didn’t have to look to know it was Brian. You didn’t bother in looking up or saying goodbye, just heard her hurried steps as she left the place to talk to him.

You had more than enough with your problems.

-

You decided to ask him that evening.

You had always prided yourself in being a practical kind of person, and not someone who made assumptions based on guesswork and lack of evidence. Also, you didn’t think you could stand a surprise proposal without fainting on the spot.

Closing the door again, you announced your arrival and received a quick greeting from Taron. Noises could be heard from the kitchen, and a peek look while you took off your jacket let you know that he was cooking. He was wearing again the awful apron, and you salivated just by the smell of the food. Taron had always loved to cook, from impressive breakfast to surprising meals; after your fair share of disappointment and food poisoning, he had become quite talented at that.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek while he moved what seemed pork in the pan, and he answered by dragging you closer and planting a full kiss on your lips while you were serving yourself some water.

You smiled tight, returned the kiss and decided that you were doing it later.

That later, actually, came when dinner was finished.

You were almost falling asleep on his lap after a delicious dinner, dozing off on the film that you were trying to see. You couldn’t focus on what it was about, but rather on how to keep your eyes open to ask him about the weeding. You were laying your head on his thighs, and he had both of hands on you. One of his hands was caressing on your hip, warm and soft against the naked skin, and the other massaging your scalp, occasionally undoing on the knots of your hair. It felt ridiculous to ruin the mood by something that stupid, but you knew he would notice something was off eventually; and he tended to panic.

“So” you started.

Taron stopped moving for a second, before going back to his business. He, unlike you, liked to watch the movies you played on weekends, and got really invested into some of them. Usually, when you interrupted it, he got all mad and playfully banned you from the couch. But he had known you wanted to talk about something all day, from how silent you had been during dinner.

“So, Y/N” he repeated, and you smacked his thigh.

“You know – I borrowed your tabled, this morning?”

He frowned and you could hear the wheels turning in his brain. Taron, as said before, was the most paranoid boy you had ever met; and not in a bad way, because he fully trusted you, but it was true that he tended to think about conclusions before getting the facts.

“Was it porn?” he asked, and you felt like screaming for the second time that day. “Because I don’t think I opened it today. But, you know – we’ve had this conversation before, it’s hard when you –“

“I’m talking about the wedding plans, Taron”

Now, he really stopped moving. You felt him going tense under you, and the only thing he managed to do was to press silent with the remote he was holding. You could probably hear a pin dropping on the street, but in that moment the only thing you heard was Taron’s breathing and your heart beating loudly.

The truth was, Taron didn’t have the heart to make any excuse. He had already thought that it was a bit rushed, because you hadn’t been dating for that long. But recently, one of his friends was getting married, and all the preparations had made him look up some details about… your possible wedding. Just imagining you in the white dress he had seen the last week or in the beach, walking towards him, gave him chills.

“Uh”

Taron tried to say anything that might had excused the tabs on his tablet, and he mentally kicked himself for it not being porn. He could deal with an argument about the inconveniences of it, but not with you saying him ‘no’ already. He hadn’t even meant to ask you yet – he was curious. You were still looking at him, so he gave you a hesitant smile.

“I just see myself with you” he blurted out, much more confident of what he felt. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. “You’re so perfect, and complement me so well. I just – lately I’m always thinking about the future, and in every possibility there is you, with me, married and maybe with some kids. I’m sorry if… I know it’s rushed, and you don’t have to say anything. I just… imagining a future with you makes me keep going. Hypothetically ”

Taron shrugged at the end, as if it hadn’t been the most beautiful thing he had ever told you. He had a tendency to do that, a lot. Even if he was talkative and open on the outside, behind closed doors Taron was a bit shy. From your side vision, someone did something stupid in the film and got murdered.

You shifted so that you were back to your original position, having laid on your back to look at him. You turned your head to the screen and Taron pressed back the volume, and you didn’t miss how he slumped down and sighed.

Truly, you didn’t know what do say. Taron had been what you had always wanted in partner, and in the short amount of time you had been with him, you hadn’t discovered a single thing that made you not like him.

His hands were resting behind you, as if he was afraid to touch you. You reached for one and made him hug your middle until you could play with his fingers on your front.

“Just so you know, hypothetically” you started, fidgeting and looking at the blonde friend who tried to run from the killer in the TV. “I would say yes”

Taron smiled so wide that he thought he could slip his head in two, and finally relaxed into the touch. His hand that wasn’t trapped by you started playing with your hair once more, and the relaxed and happy mood that you enjoyed before was back.

“Well, I love you a lot. And that’s not hypothetically”

“I love you too, moron” you smiled and closed your eyes, ready to finally drift off.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

[saktetsu]

'LUST' Oikawa Tōru x Reader

Nekomimi, Metamorphoses, Adopted Sibling, !ncest, Mentions of Rape, Yandere Themes, Drugged

Today was the day that Oikawa Tōru comes back to Japan. He won't be staying for long, but at least [F/N] will be able to see her Older Brother once again.

"You look excited to see Tōru again" Her Mother exclaimed, chuckling softly.

"Well of course I am! I get to see Tōru nii again.." [F/N] had a smiled plastered on her face, as she waited for the Front Door to open.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Oikawa finally emerged from the door. He looked more mature now than he was back then. Without Hesitation, [F/N] jumped off the couch and ran straight into his open arms. It caused the setter to laugh from her sudden outburst of affection.

"Woah there [F/N]-Chan, did you miss me that much?" He teased, pinching her cheek slightly. Though she didn't care at all, all she wanted was to hug her dearest Brother that she missed so much.

"Alright, alright. [F/N] enough, let your Brother rest for a bit. I bet he's tired from the Flight" Their Mother chimed in with her hands on either side of her hips.

She pouted and eventually let go of Tōru with a soft 'hmph..' "Don't worry [F/N]~Chan! We'll be able to catch up after I settle in, mkay?" Tōru suggested with a head tilt, causing the younger girl to brighten up.

It may have been rude of him to stare at how her Booty Shorts would raise a little too high. Or how her shirt would squeeze tightly around her upper body. It's like she's tempting him to ruin her, to claim her. Even the thought of finally making his precious Little Sister his, had his tail straighten up from behind him.

Had she always looked this tempting? Had her ass always looked so plump and juicy? Whatever the case, he still couldn't fight back the urge to somewhat claim her as his own.

A few days passed by with Oikawa continuously bothering and hanging out with [F/N]. His personality didn't change much, but she could tell that he was a lot more serious.

Currently, she was in Class. Sitting along side her Best Friend Rinsuke and Sosuke. It was normal for them to Hang out before School ended. "Yo [F/N], I heard your Brother Finally came back from Argentina. How's that going for you?"

"Honestly, it's been great! I was able to catch up with him during the span of like- 4 days"

"4 days and you've already talked about everything? Sheesh, I'm not even surprised" Sosuke butted in, slurping his Milk quietly.

"Ya can't blame her for that though. They're pretty inseparable at this point." His twin added with a sly smirk spreading across his face. "Yer sure ya ain't got anything yer hiding from us Cupcake?"

"What.. Do you mean?" [F/N] asked with a curious tone.

"Ya know how he's one of those Nekomimi people?" She nodded. "Well for starters, ain't those kitties sniff shit that they own or somethin' like that?"

"And I'm also pretty sure that their kind not only possess the appearance of a cat, but their nature, and DNA too. Meaning they could sometimes act out by instincts alone." Sosuke finished Rinsuke's sentence, causing the other Twin to grumble by the sudden interruption.

"I was gonna say that Rin! Ya don't hafta butt in atta nowhere" Rinsuke continued to pout as his arms crosses over his chest.

"Whatever. But seriously [F/N], you've gotta watch out when you're with that Brother of yours."

"Pshh, what's he gonna do? Think I'm his mate? Sosuke, Rinsuke. He's my Brother, I doubt he'd even try to do anything but sniff me"

"Yer Adopted Brother" Rinsuke corrected, causing Sosuke to nod.

"Oh come on! Tōru nii isn't like that, I promise you" They both looked at each other and sighed.

"If you say so."

And just like that, School came to an end with a single bell. The Three walked out of their class together, waving goodbye to each and everyone of their Friends.

A few loud screams were heard from afar as they got closer to the exit if the School. They exchanged curious looks with each other before following the source of the noise.

"Oh my God! Oikawa-kun's here?! In Japan?!" One of the girls screamed out of excitement as she ran passed Rinsuke, Sosuke, and [F/N].

It startled [F/N], Oikawa had never picked her up from School before. (Due to his crazy schedule that was always packed with Volleyball.)

"[F/N]-Chan! There you are, I was worried that you might have gotten lo-" And there it was, the brief pause of his sentence as soon as he realized that she wasn't standing alone. Slowly, he pushed through his fans with a somewhat apologetic smile. His eyes narrowed, ear twitching from annoyance.

"Who are you?" The Question may seem innocent, but the tone of his voice was filled with venom.

"I- Uh- Rinsuke, sir.. And this is my Bro" Rin patted Sosuke's shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"Well, nice to meet you both but I must get going! And.." Oikawa walked a little closer to his relative, pulling her into his arms. "I'll be taking [F/N]-Chan with me"

Without another word, Tōru turned to walk away with [F/N] in his arms. She peeked behind her Brother, giving Rinsuke and Sosuke a small wave before they completely disappeared from view.

The walk home was quiet, yet Oikawa's arms were still wrapped around her smaller Figure. "Is something wrong Tōru nii..?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Don't worry [F/N]-Chan." She tried her best to struck up the conversation a bit more, but he gave either one word answers or stayed quiet. It felt unsettling, but [F/N] shrugged it off as soon as they reached the Front Door of their House.

"You better take a Shower right now" Was the first thing he mentioned as soon as they walked in, causing her to get startled a bit.

"Oh- uh- alright" [F/N] rushed upstairs and into her room, taking her clothes off slowly before popping herself into the shower.

Oikawa stayed downstairs, watching his previous games against other Teams. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the TV, he just couldn't. With the sound if the shower turned on, and [F/N] humming softly with the music in the background that she usually plays while cleaning herself up; it was hard to focus on anything but that.

Thoughts of her being exposed and freely displayed infront of him rushed through his brain. He knew it was wrong to think of her this way, but who was he kidding? He's fucking addicted.

The sound of the shower turning off caught his attention, meaning she was already done. Did time really fly by fast from all those thoughts? Either way, he couldn't care less.

She emerged from the stairs, descending slowly with her usual Home Outfit. The booty shorts he so feared that might break his last strand of self control, and her tank top that just fits perfectly against her body. It caused his ears to twitch ever so excitedly as soon as she plopped herself beside him without a word.

"Happy?" [F/N] let out as she took off the tow that wrapped around her hair.

Oikawa leaned forward, resting his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent, and eventually his tail descended from its straightened up posture. "Mm" He hummed.

"Why'd you want me to take a bath anyways? It's not like I was dirty or anything"

"You smelled like them." Tōru simply answered, his nose twitching from her sweet lavender scent.

"Hmmmm" [F/N] shifted slightly, putting a bit space between her and Oikawa. "Where's Mom by the way?"

"Oh right, I forgot to mention that she's over at a Friends house right now. Something about a Girls night out"

"Oh- pfft, typical, I can't blame her though. I would have also missed going out with my friends if I was always busy" He didn't reply, nor did he give some sort of answer. His eyes were still glued onto her face, taking in her beauty that he missed back in Argentina.

After a while of silence, he finally spoke up. "You should head to bed, you have Volleyball Practice tomorrow right?"

"Oh, yeah I do"

"Which Position did you obtain?"

"I got setter!"

Oh? So she did end up becoming the Setter of her Volleyball Team after all. "Why did you wanna become the Setter so badly? I mean, you're a great receiver. You should have chosen to become a Libero instead"

"I know, but.. I really wanna be just like you Tōru nii" [F/N] fidgeted in her spot, her eyes sparkled in the sight of her Older Brother. She looked so.. Vulnerable..

He took a sharp inhale, before breathing out. He wasn't gonna lie, it caught him off guard. But the goofy smile spreading across his face showed how ecstatic he was knowing that his Little Sister wanted to be just like him. "Really? [F/N]-Chan! I feel so honored"

She laughed softly, before turning her gaze back to the Game played out for them. "Well, you're the Best Setter I know so.. Is it alright if you'd teach me some things Tōru nii?"

Oikawa nodded, his ego going through the roof as he tilted his chin up. "Now how about this, if you wake up early tomorrow then we could practice together before you head to Schoo-"

"REALLY?! ALRIGHT- I'll go to Sleep now!" [F/N] shot up from her position of the couch, raising her arms in the air like a child. He was startled at first, but eventually smiled softly.

"Here, drink your Milk first. that way you'll go to sleep faster" Tōru picked up the glass of milk on the coffee table, handing it to her with the genuine smile that never fails to make her grin. She uttered a small 'Thank you' before drinking the Milk.

Meanwhile, Oikawa was sitting there, watching intently. Would it be wrong to tell her someday in the near future that he drugged her Milk before giving it to her?

"Phoowee, wow.. -I do feel sleepy.." [F/N] settled the cup back down, facing her older brother with lazy eyes. "Can you carry me up the stairs please? Pretty pleaseee? I'm too lazy"

Tōru pretend to be annoyed, even letting out a small grunt before picking her off the ground. "Alright"

They both ascended up the stairs, with [F/N] comfortably in his arms. It was as if she was molded to fit perfectly wrapped around his fingers.

By the time that they arrived at the front of her bedroom, she was out cold. Her breathing was more even, yet her hands still gripped onto his shirt. "Silly [F/N]-Chan, you really should pay more attention to things you drink. I wonder if your trust for me would shatter if you found out.." He seemed to be lost in thought as he lowered her sleeping figure

Oikawa was shifting, not being able to contain his excitement as he eagerly took off his own sweater. 'Fuck, she looked so defenceless'

He lowered himself a bit. Settling his right hand on top of her stomach, where it slowly dipped further down until he was able to cup her cunt. "Fuck.. Already soaked Princess?" He cooed softly, before pulling her Shorts off. Oikawa took a moment to admire her current state, his fingers gently sliding her cottoned panties off. 'Wouldn't want her to wake up early now'

Tōru licked two of his fingers a bit, before slowly inserting them inside of her pussy. It caused [F/N] to squirm a bit in her spot, her lips quivering slightly. "H-Hrgm..~"

"Shhh... It's alright Baby Girl, Tōru nii's gonna take good care of you okay.." In all honesty, he was still shocked from the fact that his sweet little sister was still a Virgin. It excited him even more to the point where he pistoned his fingers in and out of her dripping cunt. The tightness of his pants slightly bothered him, causing the setter to quickly push the waist band lower.

It continued on for a bit, until he became restless. The pad of his thumb harshly pressed against her clit, making her jolt. "A-AHHH.. -" The lewd moan startled him, but he kept going at his pace. [F/N] continued to tremble under his touch, growing restless as she began to twist and turn in her spot.

He noticed how tighter it got, and more difficult it was to move his fingers. "Fuck.. You're squeezing my fingers like a Vice [F/N]-Chan.. Are you about to cum Princess? Come on, cum for Onii-Chan.." Oikawa continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. And eventually, just like he said; she came with a loud moan.

Without hesitation, he pulled her sleeping body up slightly, his back resting against the headboard. Oikawa settled her on his lap, where her cunt rested right on top of his Cock. He shivered a bit, feeling her cum dripping onto his hardened member. He let her lean into him as she continued to sleep peacefully.

As much as he wanted to keep her innocence, the desire to ruin her and completely claim her body as his own grew.

Tōru slowly lifted her up, wrapping his tail around her waist before spreading her cunt with his fingers. "I'm about to take something so valuable from you.." And with that, he dropped her onto his cock, causing it to quickly sink balls deep. [F/N] let out a loud shriek as her eyes flew open. Oikawa stilled his movements and let out a shaky sigh. It felt too good.. Way too good.

"Fuck.. [F/N] you're.. - s-so tight damn" He began to lift her hips up and down repeatedly, setting a steady pace. "I expected you to be tight but.. Wow- fuck it feels good Baby Girl"

It didn't take long for her to register what was going on, her Big Brother's dick sinking inside her pussy, his tail wrapping around her waist, it made her feel light headed to say the least. "T-Tō.. Tōru nii..? W-What are.. What are you doing? Please stop, it hurts.." She spoke in a soft tone, pushing her hands against his broad shoulders in an attempt to move away. But he was much more stronger than she was, and faster too.

"Ah, ah, ah.. Don't fight now [F/N]-Chan! If you struggle, it'll make me even more excited.." He said, licking his lips seductively. A shiver ran down her spine as her hips continued to move with his help.

"This is wrong- please stop- I-I won't tell anyone this ever h-happened.. I swear.. Just please sto- ooo-o.. AHHHHHHHH..!" Oikawa had enough of her babbling about how she didn't want any of this. So instead of taking it easy on her like how he planned. He began to buck his hips, causing a loud whimper to fall from her lips as she tried to continue her sentence. "P-Please Tōru nii stop..!"

"Fuck, I just told you that if you struggle it'll excite me more.. Are you doing this on purpose? You fucking slut.." His pace got even faster, and his thrust was more rough. "You know, seeing you with those Bastards really hurt me [F/N]-Chan! I thought I was the only Male in your Life"

The tone of his voice sounded as if he was genuinely hurt, she would have felt bad, she would have if it wasn't for the fact that he was literally pistoning his dick in and out of her pussy. "T-Tōru..~!" [F/N] moaned out his name. Somehow, it flicked a switch deep inside Oikawa.

Causing him to act by instincts. Instead of his usual thought out actions, he pushed her off, pinning both of her wrists above her head with one hand. His ears began to twitch, and the tail that he affectionately wrapped around her waist was now tightening its grip. "Tō-Tōru..!"

There it was again, it sounded like music to his ears. He needed to hear more of it right away. So without further interruptions, he began to spread her legs. [F/N] let out a small shriek as soon as she felt the tip of his member push against her folds.

Her toes curled, and her back arched. Tōru didn't care whether or not it hurt for her, his pace was rough and frantic. As if his Animalistic tropes were overpowering his usual humane self. He wanted to breed her so badly, spill his sperm deep inside her womb until she was a quivering mess. "T-TŌRU, TŌRU!" His name continuously spilled out of her mouth.

And no doubt, it made him even more rough with her. "Fuck! You're such a fucking slut for hanging out with those Bastards. should've known you'd do this from the start" There it was, his tip hitting that spot that made her see stars. She flinched, her moans getting even more uncontrollably louder. "Yeah? You like that? You like it here?" Tōru moved his free hand below her ass, lifting her up slightly where he could easily thrust up to her G-Spot.

"H-Hrm..! T-Tōru.. 'M Cumming, I'm Cumming Tōru!"

"Then cum, Princess" And just like that, [F/N] came around his cock. Her eyes closing slightly as she rode out her orgasm. But Oikawa didn't stop there, he was chasing his own high after all. With a few more seconds of him thrusting harshly into her abused cunt, he finally came undone. Spilling his cum deep in her womb with a shaky sigh. "F.. Fuck.. Yeah.."

His cock softened, but he didn't pull away nor did he move an inch. Oikawa rested on top of her, his breathing becoming even. "Onii Chan loves you.. You do know that right..?" [F/N] nodded, her lips quivering from the over stimulation being present.

"Use your words pretty girl, I wanna hear you say it" He caressed her hair, stroking some of his finger through.

"Yes, I know.."

"What do you know?"

"I.. T-That... Tōru nii loves me.."

"Good Girl. You do know that no one else loves you right? I love you more than anyone in the whole wide world" She nodded slowly, fidgeting slightly.

"You love me, right?"

"I love you" Despite being mortified earlier, she eventually snuggled closer to her Older Brother. Giving into his twisted fantasies. He felt satisfied with himself, pulling her even closer. She couldn't deny him, she couldn't fight. After all, big brothers know best.

[softforcal]

Monte Carlo : Racecar driver!Cal

Summary: They've been going to the same bar for a while, but have never talked. Then, across the globe, they meet at a club. He's there for a formula one race, she's there as an Instagram promoter for The Grand Prix. Angst and slow-burn ensues.

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: some smut

Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst, ft. Harry Styles

note: I started writing this when i first got into f1 so it's not 100% correct on how f1 operates but that's ok. Also I’m not from New York but i tried my best lol

Nascar stuff to watch if you want a full experience: Hot Lap, Champagne popping. 

****************

She’d met him in a bar.

It wasn't a southside bar. The carpets weren’t stained by booze, ashes from used cigarettes and various human fluids, whether that be blood or sweat or whatever else landed on the floor in a dodgy hole in the wall.

Yet, it wasn’t a North Side bar either. They didn’t have the most expensive bottles of whiskey, no ‘hints of aged oak’ or bottles boasting of being over a hundred years old.

No, it was a middle ground. People loitered outside, men in leather smoking with the bouncers. The women there wore strappy heels and weren’t afraid to kick them off to play a game of pool. It was perfect, and there was nowhere else Celeste would have rather been.

The charm of the bar wasn’t even really the bar itself, but a certain regular.

His arrival was always signaled by the scent that would rush into the bar when a bouncer opened the door for him. The stuff he smoked always seemed to smell different, the type of sweetness that was edged, the type of sweetness that told you not to get too close.

No one could help but look at him when he entered. He was beautiful, the type of guy who could afford to relax in a North Side bar where the extra cost for drinks bought you more discreet eyes.

He never seemed to mind the eyes though, and Celeste wasn’t surprised, after all, she supposed a racecar driver of his stature would be used to it by now.

She’d thought he was cute before the bartender had even mentioned that the gorgeous brunette was a famous race car driver. Celeste wasn’t the type to watch cars, whether they be NASCAR or formula one. Hell, she didn’t even know the difference between the two - didn’t particularly care.

Celeste could understand the man - she wasn’t sure of his name - she wasn’t too picky about being seen either. Both of them were young and alive, chasing dreams and becoming successful at an early age.

The driver must have been twenty-three or four, already a known winner. If Celeste could remember correctly, she thought she’d heard he was one of the drivers for Ferrari, which sounded prestigious.

Celeste was twenty-two and at the cusp of finding stardom in the world of modeling. She’d been discovered by a recruiter at aged sixteen and bounced around smaller brands before landing a gig with Victoria’s Secret. Although she’d yet to walk their runway, one of the designers had showed her picture to a friend and just like that, Celeste had become the muse for one of the biggest fashion brands in North America.

She supposed she was lucky, blessed really, to have been in the mall the day the recruiter discovered her.

And likewise, she supposed the driver was fortunate to have been introduced to driving at a young age.

So there the two of them were, two young stars shortening the vicinity between themselves every Friday night or so. Close but not touching, never meeting.

Later in her life, Celeste would wonder if it was odd for the other patrons who frequented the bar. If it was odd for them to be minding their own business and have not one, but two, semi-famous people just decide ‘this is my chosen bar.’ But in those moments when Celeste accepted a challenge in pool, playing against other drunk university girls, Celeste was just one of the people who’d found a little slice of home in a midtown bar.

***

Calum swirled the whiskey in his glass, taking a deep breath and turning so his back was leaning against the bar top. His eyes found her immediately. She was the type of girl that stood out. Even if he hadn’t been told by his favourite bartender that the girl was a model, he could have guessed.

It was hard to tear his gaze from her as she bent over the pool table to line up a shot. Her little jean shorts hugged her ass perfectly, and the way her thighs were pressed against the table made Calum lick his lips. She wasn't a typical model, or at least didn’t have the thinner body type. She was what his friends would call slim thicc, and Calum ate it up every time she entered the bar.

The girls she was playing with were obviously university students from the school down the road. Calum had seen them once or twice, they liked to get drunk and play pool. They were also obviously fans of the model, and to the models credit, she was very kind to them any time they approached her.

“You should go talk to her.” the bartender suggested, “two pretty people like you, it makes sense.”

Calum smirked against the rim of his glass, humming absentmindedly, “does it?”

“You should do it soon, you know everyone’s been taking bets on when you end up talking to her, who approaches who.”

“Really?” Calum turned to look at the bartender.

“No, but it’s a good idea, maybe I should start that up.” he paused, “come on man, you’re a regular, she’s a regular. You’ve both been coming in for what? Six months now? Most Fridays? Except for when you’re off in Italy or Mexico or wherever, winning trophies and she’s doing modeling gigs. The two of you would make sense together.”

Calum shot the last mouthful of whiskey, setting the glass down, “no we wouldn’t.”  he stated, tossing a bill onto the counter. He didn’t look up at the bartender, instead, he grabbed his leather jacket that had been thrown over a bar chair and shrugged it on. It was warm and worn, and Calum produced a joint from inside one of the pockets, tucking it behind his ear and amongst his dark curls. His trusty lighter was in his hand by the time he was pushing the door open to escape the bar.

The cold air wrapped around him and Calum’s nimble fingers moved the joint from behind his ear to his lips, the lighter flicking on. He took a long drag and his eyes closed, the warm feeling wrapping around him pleasantly.

He knew he was being a pussy.

Knew that sixth months was six months too many for him to be in the same vicinity of a girl like that and not make a move. Calum liked to take his time with women, which is why he enjoyed going to the bar alone.

His friends didn’t get it. They were all about driving fast, living fast and fucking fast.

Calum would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy speed, he was a fucking racecar driver for Christ’s sake. One of the fastest in the world, if his last race was anything to go by.

But when it came to women? Well with women, Calum liked to go slow.

Besides, he was only going away for a week, maybe a little more. She’d be there when he got back.

***

The pop of the champagne bottle announced the spray of liquor that began to stream over Calum and his friends. Ashton was pointing his bottle towards the crowd and fans screamed up at them, allowing the expensive liquid to drench them as the drivers celebrated.

Calum’s cheeks hurt from smiling, and two of his friends held his head back as Ashton poured booze into his mouth. He was getting used to this treatment, they were only four events into the year but this was Calum’s third win. He was going to drink a little, but he was saving his energy for the next race, it mattered more to him anyways.

The Monaco Grand Prix held a special place in Calum’s heart and he could hardly wait for the week and a half for it to start.

Champagne dripped down the front of his red jumpsuit and Calum shoved his friends away, heart pumping fast. It only ever beat this way when he won first place, something that was happening with more and more frequency.

The air was still tinged with red from the gusts of coloured smoke that had been released as he’d crossed the finish line.

For a moment something else flashed red across his vision, a shirt the model had been wearing the week before. She must have not had any idea when she’d chosen that colour that it had a deeper meaning for Calum. It was the colour of Ferrari, his colour, a colour that always sparked his heart with fire, the colour that promised a race, promised the elevation into paradise that came with a win.

One of his friends grabbing his jumpsuit drew Calum’s attention, and the image of the girl was gone.

***

Celeste lounged in her chair, celebrating a successful shoot with a slice of pizza. As she bit into the cheesy goodness, her makeup artist sat next to her, “you have to see this.” she said, moving her phone where Celeste could see, “it’s from the race practice today.”

“And it’s Formula one right?” Celeste clarified. She felt bad, knowing that she should logically know more about the cars. After all, she was in Monte Carlo for the Monaco Grand Prix. The brand who hired her to be their correspondent for the paid promotion trip had known Celeste had no background with motorsports, so they had a journalist creating her captions for all of her paid posts. But Celeste still felt bad.

“Yeah this is formula one, you can tell because the cars are thinner remember? just watch this.” the girl said with excitement. Celeste focused on the screen, watching as a red car sped down a track, “oh my god, how fast is he going?”

“Fast.” the girl breathed.

There were two cars, a red and a blue. The red tried to skim past the blue and sent them both spiraling out, the blue coming to stand still as the driver got their bearing, however, the red car hadn’t even stopped spinning before it was off again, speed gaining to catch the car that had taken the lead from him during those brief seconds of collision.

The camera angle switched to the camera attached to the red car and even at massively high speeds, the driver was fixing their mirror that had been damaged in the collision, and driving with only one hand.

One more harsh turn had red overtake the other red that had been in the lead.

The clip cut off.

“Did he win?” Celeste asked.

“He did, but this was just a practice, we still have qualifiers and the actual race.” her artist said, “fuck, Hood is insane, I’ve never seen a driver recover from a bump so quick.”

“I’m shocked the bump didn’t have them both like, flipping or something.” Celeste said, “every time I think about race cars I think about how deadly the crashes look.”

“Just be glad you’re not dating a driver.” her artist said.

Celeste laughed, “thank god.”

***

Celeste had been busy most of the day, but she’d heard the notorious Hood had won yet again, not that it was a surprise, apparently. People on the streets were talking about him, his name whispered over and over again everywhere Celeste went to take pictures.

The other model she was with had done the Monte Carlo coverage for the brand the year before, she’d chosen a club and said that it was the place to be the night of the qualifiers and especially the next night after the final.

It was easy enough to get onto the list for the exclusive club, and the fellow model, a girl named Alexa, warned Celeste not to sleep with any of the drivers, “they’re pigs.” Alexa said as they got out of the limo, “only good for pictures and tags but other than that? They talk a big game about liking it fast but these men don’t have stamina for shit.”

Celeste laughed, following Alexa up past the security who didn’t even ask if they were on the list. Alexa and Celeste where the types of girls who surpassed lists, if a straight man ever tried to refuse them entrance to a club, it would surely mark a coming apocalypse and pigs would be flying.

The VIP section of club was alive with people, full of the rich elite, the type of people who flew out to Monte Carlo with the pure intent of watching Formula One racing. Celeste decided, as she walked amongst people with pearls and diamonds adorning their bodies, that Formula One was an expensive sport. Alexa had mentioned early in the day, as the two of them absentmindedly waited for the cars to zoom past where they were sitting in the crowd, that some Formula One cars could cost around fifteen and a half million dollars to make.

Celeste had nearly fallen out of her seat at the number, and her mouth had gone dry as her eyes went to the track, watching the expensive cars who could at any moment flip and waste so much money.

The thought of cars crashing was swept from Celeste’s mind as she was dragged by Alexa through the crowd of people. The racers weren’t hard to spot. They were all decked out in sponsored caps and casual outfits. The only people in the room who didn’t feel like they needed to dress up, because they didn’t. Every rich person in the room was there for them, the racers had all the power, all eyes on them.

Some were surprisingly young looking, and many of them were smaller than Celeste expected. “Why are they so tiny?” Celeste whispered, stopping Alexa in her tracks as Celeste looked at the racers.

“The more weight that’s in the car, the slower it goes, smaller is better… for once.” Alexa teased, “come on.”

Then they were in the midst of the racers, Alexa hugging a man she fondly called Ash. He was a bit bigger than the others, but still not up to Celeste’s standards. Her eyes wandered, a smile on her face flashed to anyone Alexa introduced her too.

A song came on and Celeste’s hand tightened around Alexa’s, “oh my gosh, this is my song!” Celeste said, looking at her with pleading eyes, “come dance with me?”

“You go ahead, I have to catch up with some friends.” Alexa said.

Celeste didn’t need to be told twice, letting go of her friend to escape to the dancefloor. It was out of the way of the VIP section, filled with a younger crowd that Celeste felt akin to. She meshed in, lost within the swarm of dancing people. The song was new, by an artist she’d followed since his boyband years. His new music was rich and fun, the artist making a true name for himself as a rockstar.

Her hips swayed to the music, the beautiful metallic sheer dress hugging all her curves as she smiled and danced with the people who made room for her. She’d never had issues fitting in, least of all on a dancefloor.

When the song finished, she continued to dance, even though the next songs weren’t her favourites. She was just beginning to sweat when a hand grabbed hers, Alexa pulling her roughly, “Celeste come with me now!”

By the time they’d exited the crowd, it was obvious where Celeste was taking her. Standing in the VIP section, surrounded by racers, looking as handsome as ever, was Harry Styles, the very artist that Celeste had swooned over when his song had come on.

Her heart froze in her chest and she stopped in her tracks, pulled harshly again by Alexa, “come on!” Alexa said, “you have to meet him!”

***

Calum was becoming an expert in the art of opening and spraying champagne. He’d won the Monaco Grand Prix, taking the first spot like he was entitled to it, and keeping it until he’d crossed the finish line. His entire body was on fire, heart racing in his chest.

Ashton stood next to him, he’d finished third, which was also impressive. It was obvious that they’d be celebrating that night, after the interviews. Calum was excited about the night ahead, he’d always found Monte Carlo to be a dreamlike city, wonderous and in a way romantic.

He wasn’t sure what would happen that night, but if it was anything like his triumphant day, he knew it would be amazing. Nothing could pull him away from his post win high, and he was sure of that.

***

It was her.

Calum blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. No, it was her. The girl from the bar. The influencer who’d weaseled her way into his brain without even knowing it, was there, a few yards away. She had a glass of champagne in her hand, but it was still full.

Calum recognized the girl next to his influencer, a model named Alexa. He’d met her at a few of his races, she was a brand endorser for a number of the same brands Calum worked for. He knew he was on her Instagram, tagged a few times, pictures of the two of them standing next to each other, her smile much larger than his. Alexa was a nice girl, he enjoyed her, but Calum generally tried to stay away from models, he wasn’t quite sure why.

Alexa spotted him a moment later, her eyes widening as she motioned him over, opening her arms to pull him into a tight hug, “I can't believe you won!” she screamed, “that’s what? Your third race in a row? What’s your secret Hood?!”

Calum’s eyes darted between Alexa and the influencer next to her, still not introduced, waiting politely for his answer.

“Uh-” Calum wracked his brain for a witty response but nothing came, “who’s your friend?”

Alexa didn’t even seem to mind that he hadn’t answered her question, “this is Celeste.” she said.

Celeste held out a hand, “nice to meet you-”

“Calum.”

“Calum.” she repeated his name, a silly smile on her face. The name tasted sweet on her tongue, “I think… have we met before?” she tried to play it cool, but she knew exactly where she’d seen him. This was the mystery hunk who frequented her bar back in New York.

For months she’d been trying to work up the courage to go talk to him, and now there he was, halfway across the world in a club that was too loud, a new title added to his impressive resume.

Calum nodded, “we go to the same bar in New York.” he didn’t even bother dancing around the idea of where they knew each other from.

Celeste’s heart leaped in her chest.

“You two know each other?” Alexa asked in shock.

“Not really-” Celeste began as Calum said “no.” they both stopped, waiting for the other to continue. Both of them blushed, Calum readjusting his guinness cap on his head.

A man with honey coloured curls appeared, arm going around Calum as he greeted Alexa, “who’s your friend?” Ashton asked.

“Celeste.” Celeste answered, holding out her hand to him.

Calum watched every movement, loving every motion.

“I’m Ashton,” the man said, turning to Alexa, “you need a drink.” he stated, grabbing Alexa’s hand.

“Only if you’re buying.” Alexa teased, allowing Ashton to pull her towards the bar, leaving Calum alone with Celeste.

“So you won today!” Celeste said enthusiastically, “that must be so great for you!”

Calum could see her struggling with her words, “you don’t watch F1 much do you?”

“F1?”

“Formula One.” Calum corrected himself with a laugh.

“No, I don't.” Celeste admitted awkwardly, “fast cars aren’t really my thing.”

“Really?” Calum asked in shock, she looked like the kind of girl who would own a luxury car, but maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

“Yeah, I don't know, fast cars, crashes, guess I’m a bit of a scaredy-cat.” Celeste laughed, sipping her champagne.

“I could take you for a drive.” Calum stated, the words left his mouth before he could stop them, “I mean, my Ferrari is down at the track-”

“I’d have to be really drunk to agree to that.” Celeste laughed, the tone of it twinkling deliciously and making Calum smile.

“Then, cheers.” Calum clinked his beer with Celeste’s champagne glass.

“To F1.” Celeste said, already incorporating the new term Calum had taught her.

Calum smiled at her, “To fast cars, crashes and scaredy cats.”

***

“We are not doing this.” Celeste said, even as she got into the car. Calum closed the door behind her, hurrying to his own side to get into the driver's seat, “Calum, your seatbelt is straight out of bondage porno.”

“Watch a lot of those?” Calum laughed, his skin heating as he turned to look at the model who was holding the harness like a seatbelt.

“Calum!” Celeste said loudly again, jaw-dropping as she looked at him, “no!”

Calum grinned, reaching over to help her put the seatbelt on. He hadn’t pushed her to drink more, Celeste had done that on her own. She’d said after a few sips of champagne that ‘it wasn’t every day a formula one racer offered to take a gal out for a drive’ and had downed her glass. Seeing she was serious, Calum had put down his beer, having only had a sip of it.

He was completely sober, unlike the girl next to him. She was a bubbly drunk, much like the champagne that had caused her to be this way.

Calum grabbed the two safety helmets from the back of the car, handing one to Celeste. She looked at it like it was about to bite her, “what?!”

“For safety.” Calum said, putting it on her himself before putting on his own.

“How fast are we going to go?” Celeste asked.

“As fast as you want.” Calum said, putting on his own seatbelt before looking out at the track. He didn’t want to tell her that he would go over 200 km/h on straights, he knew he was being devious but he didn’t care so much.

He’d done this before, never with a model, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to show up and go for a celebratory lap of the track the night after a win. He’d even left his car on the track, having always planned on coming and doing this. Security was always nice to him, partly, he supposed, because he was a winner, but also partly because he was a nice guy.

“Fast.” Celeste whispered, then she looked at him, “wait, not super fast,” she said, then she frowned, “no, fast? Maybe?”

Calum laughed, “I'll just start, and if you want me to go slower, I can, yeah?”

“Okay.” Celeste said, her eyes lingering on the racer's profile, “pretty.” she mumbled, so quietly that Calum almost didn’t hear her. He felt his skin heating, could feel his ears turning red as the car roared to life, the engine purring.

“Fuck.” Celeste said, grabbing at the car door.

Calum laughed, turning to look at her, “we haven’t even moved yet.”

“What if I don't want to anymore?”

Calum took his foot off the brake and the car rolled about two feet, making Celeste grip the door tighter.

“We can stop.” Calum said, easing off the brake again to move another few feet.

Celeste took a deep breath, then turned to look at him, “Murder me.” she stated.

Calum’s breath caught in his throat and he blinked, taking a moment before he realized she meant that he should drive so fast she’ll metaphorically die. He swallowed thickly. “You got it.” he said, voice hoarse.

“Have you ever taken someone out on something like this before?” Celeste asked, suddenly sounding quite sober.

“We call them hot laps.” Calum stated, “I've taken a few athletes out on some, done some drifting, some donuts-”

“Can we do some donuts? I love donuts.” Celeste said as Calum pulled onto the track.

“Sure.” Calum looked at her, “do you trust me?”

Celeste wet her lips, “no?”

The first part of the track was straight and Calum’s foot went all the way down on the gas pedal. Celeste squealed, thrown back into her seat as Calum grinned. They reached 230 km/h quickly and Celeste screamed as she saw the first turn coming into view.

She didn’t tell him to slow down, which Calum appreciated as he adjusted the car for the turn, hitting the apex (the inner corner) perfectly as Celeste squealed next to him. Calum couldn’t help but smile, pushing the car faster again as he came out of the corner.

He knew this track like the back of his hand. Knew it was 3.4 kilometers, nineteen harsh corners that would have him breaking for around 20% of the drive, giving him ample reason to drift just to make Celeste scream. Fuck. He loved it.

There was no one watching, just him and Celeste, and she obviously knew nothing about racing. Which meant he could get away with doing things that had them both thrown around the car, just for the hell of it.

It was the type of track where he couldn’t go as fast as he wanted, he wanted to be able to show Celeste how fast a car could go.

The sharp turns were coming up and Calum was ready for Celeste’s loud scream as the tires skidded across asphalt, he wasn’t ready for her hand landing on his thigh, holding on tightly.

He held the record for fastest lap in the world at this track, having completed it in 1 minute and 13.60 seconds, almost a full second faster than anyone else in the world. In the car he was in now, it would take longer, but driving always seemed fast to him.

He was focused behind the wheel, moving it expertly, taking each turn as Celeste screamed next to him, never letting go of his leg.

To Celeste, the ride felt like eons, every turn threw her to the side, her eyes unable to keep a track of the road in front of them. She simply had to hold on and enjoy it. Part of her did. Perhaps it was her drunken state, but she wasn’t really that afraid. She trusted the man next to her, even if she didn’t understand why.

The car skidded to a halt and just as Celeste thought it was over, Calum lurched the wheel to the side and threw Celeste to the left, as she squealed. The car continued to go in tight circles, a harsh weight pulling on Celeste as she screamed, eyes closed, mind dizzy.

The car stopped and Celeste took a moment to open her eyes, blinking at Calum.

“That was a donut.” he told her.

“Thank you.” Celeste whispered.

Calum laughed, then his eyes darted down to her hand on his thigh, she followed his gaze, offering him a lazy smile, “you have nice thighs.”

“You do too.” Calum said, voice hoarse. It was true. She’s what Calum’s friends would call “thiccer than a sniccer” and it had not escaped his notice.

“Do I?” Celeste asked, removing her hand from Calum to look down at her lap, “you don’t think they’re too big?”

“No.” Calum said honestly, following her eyes now as he looked at her legs. He swallowed thickly, tearing his gaze away, “where are you staying?”

“I forget what it’s called.” Celeste said, a happy smile on her face, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Calum’s mind was blank for a moment. He wasn’t sure what she was asking for. He wasn’t about to take advantage of her, no matter how badly he wanted her thighs wrapped around his head- “uh- sure.”

“Sleep over!” Celeste squealed, “we have to order pizza!”

“I don’t eat pizza.” Calum said as he took off his helmet, reaching over to help Celeste take off hers.

“What?! Why not?!” Celeste pouted, looking very concerned.

“Racecar drivers are supposed to be small, less weight means a faster car-”

“But you’re so big and tall.” Celeste smiled.

“Yeah,” Calum laughed, “so i try not to eat much, don’t want to gain any more weight than I already have, I'm a lot taller than most drivers.”

“That must mean you’re really good.”

Calum smiled, setting the helmets in the back of the car then going to unbuckle Celeste. He stayed quiet, too humble to tell her that she was right.

Celeste turned to look out the window, opening the door once she’d been released from the seatbelt. By the time Calum had gone to join her on the other side of the car she was laying on the ground, “the stars are so pretty.” she mused.

Calum sighed. At the start of his day, he’d expected maybe winning the race. He hadn’t expected to bump into the model he’d been lusting over for months from New York, in a club in Monte Carlo, only to drive her around then lay on the track and look at the stars with her.

Calum got down next to her, his shoulder just touching hers, “the stars are pretty nice.”

“For my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” Celeste breathed, “Van Gogh. I'm really tired Calum, can you take me home?”

He couldn’t take her home, not really. All they had was his hotel room. But perhaps it wasn’t bricks and mortar that made something a home, perhaps it was something else. Something not solid, not something you could hold in your hands. Maybe it was a feeling.

He wondered what could be home.

***

Celeste blinked, sitting up in a bed that was not her own. The first thing she noticed was the wall of pillows to her left. Curled up in the pillows was a head of dark curls and Celeste recognized Calum. His back was to her, a redshirt covering his broad shoulders. Even in bed, he wore Ferrari’s colours, it was intriguing.

Calum was awake, and when the bed dipped, he knew Celeste was as well. He rolled over and sat up, looking at her, “how are you feeling?” he asked.

“My head hurts a little,” she admitted, “you took me racing last night?”

“I took you on the track.” Calum said.

She blinked at him, “I remember screaming a lot.”

A smile spread across Calum’s face, “yeah, I think you enjoyed it.”

“I think I remember enjoying it.”

Calum got out of the bed, “I'm going to go get you breakfast, waffles and donuts right?”

“How did you know my cheat meal?”

“You were ranting about it last night, wanted to go find a diner to make you some fried chicken and waffles.” Calum answered, leaning against the doorway, “I don't think they’ll have the deep-fried chicken, but they have waffles, and donuts, sprinkles right?”

“Did I tell you all of my favourite foods last night?” Celeste laughed.

“Nah,” Calum smiled, “just your top hundred.” he teased, “I'll be back soon.”

Celeste looked down, realizing she was also in a Ferrari shirt. It was Calum’s, the red of it more worn and comfy looking than the shirt Calum had been wearing. It was large on her and when she got out of bed it went just to her upper thighs. The fabric was not made for a woman, not made to curve over a large bum, as Celeste turned to look at herself in the mirror next to the bed, her eyes took in the way the shirt teased. Every movement had it riding a little bit higher, sneaking a sliver of bodaciousness that she was known for.

Her hair was still wavy from it’s styling the night before but all of her makeup was gone.

She had some sort of memory of Calum wiping a warm cloth over her face.

Yes, now she remembered. He’d brought her to the hotel and had insisted on cleaning her up before letting her pass out. He’d wiped the makeup from her face gently while she ranted about food. She missed American food, missed the diner in New York that she went to every Sunday morning for deep-fried chicken and waffles.

The door to the room opened and Calum stepped in, a box full of food in his hands. He set it down on the tabletop next to Celeste’s side of the bed, then he began rearranging the pillows, straightening out the blanket.

“Thanks for the breakfast.” Celeste said, picking up a waffle.

“Don’t mention it.”

“So… are you headed back to New York soon?” she asked.

“There’s another race in under two weeks, I think a lot of us are going to stay here, and then head to Canada together, France after that-”

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you raced in so many countries.”

“This is round six, there’s twenty-one in total, so that’s still fifteen to go.” Calum said, not looking up at her.

“Fifteen more races? Fifteen more countries?” Celeste asked in shock.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” Celeste chewed on her waffle.

Calum looked down at his watch.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Celeste asked.

“Yeah, I have to go do training, then meet up with my team and talk about the race yesterday.”

“You’re a busy guy.”

Calum offered her a smile, “sorry I can’t stay longer and have breakfast with you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Are you going back to New York soon?” Calum asked.

“Uh…” Celeste’s mouth was dry, “I'm not sure yet.”  her skin was prickling. She’d almost forgotten about the charming brit she’d met two nights before. The brit she’d gone home with. The brit she was meeting up with in- “fuck, I have to go-”

Calum laughed, “got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah a date,” Celeste answered, shoving the waffle in her mouth, “I need to give you your shirt back-” she said around the waffle.

Calum’s expression had changed, but Celeste hadn’t noticed, too busy looking around for her stuff, “Keep it.” Calum said, “You can give it back to me in New York.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have a lot of Ferrari shirts.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.”

Celeste grabbed her small clutch purse, finding her shirt and skirt on the ground. She pulled the skirt up her legs, the stretchy material hugging her curves as she did a french tuck with the front of her shirt, “Calum, thank you so much for last night, for everything.” she said sincerely, turning to look at the driver.

“Don’t mention it.”

She stepped towards him and wrapped him in a hug. After a moment of hesitation, Calum hugged her back.

“I’ll see you in New York.” she promised as she pulled away, “we’ll have to meet up at the bar or something.”

Calum smiled, but it was forced, “sounds fun.”

“It will be.” Celeste ran to the door, “good luck with everything! Congrats again on your win yesterday.”

“Thanks. Get home safe.”

“I will.”

Then she was gone.

The twelve hours he’d had with her felt like borrowed time. As if he’d somehow stolen those hours from whatever god or being had kept the two of them apart for so long. And now she was gone. Calum felt like Cinderella at midnight, except it was nine AM and he wasn’t a princess in a Disney movie.

He was a formula one driver with a job to do. And he wasn’t about to let a pretty brunette get in the way of his work, even if she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life.

****

They’d followed each other that day, the notification lighting up Calum’s phone. The first of many pleasant phone buzzes signaling a message from the model. She’d posted a picture of chicken waffles on her story her first day back in New York and Calum hadn’t been able to resist the urge to message her about it, congratulating her on finally quenching her craving.

Conversation with her was easy. Two weeks into casually talking, she’d sent him a meme about friends, saying ‘us.’ it hadn’t thrown Calum off, he considered her a friend too. After all, the best relationships start with friendship, something Calum had learned after many failed attempts at love.

Celeste even congratulated Calum on winning second in the race in Canada and it had shocked him that she’d watched it. “What are friends for?” she’d messaged back, warming Calum’s whole body.

Their friendship reached a new height when she asked for his snapchat, and thus began the great dog snap challenge. Anytime either of them saw a dog, they’d take a picture and send it to the other.

Calum was busy with work. Ferrari was ramping things up, and Calum had his head in the game. Because of this, he didn’t have time to go home, even though he wanted to. Which was why he was so excited when Celeste messaged him to tell him she’d be in England when he was there for Round Ten of the championship.

Calum didn't ask too many questions, too excited to see her.

It was an hour before Celeste’s flight to England, and Calum wondered if he should message her. He finally gave in, it was late for him and he knew if he didn’t message her, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Before he could text her, his phone rang.

He’d had Celeste’s number since they’d met, 45 days ago, not that he was counting, and they’d never called each other.

“Calum! I’m not waking you am i?” Celeste’s voice was worried.

“No, what’s up?”

“Is it okay that I called you?”

“It’s fine, you sound worried.” Calum sat down, eager to give her his full attention.

“Have I ever told you I'm not into flying?” Celeste asked.

Calum chuckled, “no, you never mentioned it.”

“Well, I am, and I don’t know why this is freaking me out so much.”

“I mean, it is a long flight, maybe that’s why?” Calum paused, “you’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Are you my captain Calum?” Celeste asked sarcastically.

“No, but you’ll be fine.” he paused, “hey, when you get here, do you need me to pick you up?”

“No thanks! Harry’s picking me up.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah.”

Calum opened his mouth, then closed it, he wasn’t sure what to say, “I didn't know you were seeing him?” he offered.

“It’s funny, I met him the night before I met you. He actually has been coming to visit me in New York, so I figured it’s my turn to head out to him, and when I saw it would line up with you being there i had to come.”

Calum’s skin was cold. He’d thought she was coming to see him, but as it turned out, he was only fifty percent of the reason. Was he even fifty percent?

“But I’m coming to your race!” Celeste continued, “the training ones and the final one.”

Her terms weren’t correct but Calum couldn’t be bothered to correct her. “Is Harry coming with you too?” Calum asked.

“Yeah, he’ll be around, but I do really want to see you Cal.” there was a muffled sound, then, “they’re boarding so I gotta go. Talking to you really helped Cal. I’ll see you soon! I’m so excited!”

“Me too.” Calum forced out.

“Awesome! Love ya! Bye!”

Calum’s mouth felt dry, his body still frozen, but he managed to say “bye.” then the line clicked and Celeste was gone, but had she ever really been there?

***

He was late. Something that never happened, but he’d been late with Celeste. They’d gone out for drinks her second night England and had stayed up talking and ordering room service until three AM. Calum had lost track of time, another thing he’d never really experienced.

Shoving his legs into his race suit and pulling it up, he ran past a few mechanics, eager to get on the track. He’d had a call early that morning that some rich person had paid a lot of money to have a hot lap with him.

It seemed to be the day of things that had never happened to Calum.

He usually didn’t do hot laps, and Ferrari knew that. There was, allegedly, something special about the person who’d requested him, but that morning, half asleep when his phone rang, Calum had been too tired to ask.

Calum was used to camera’s being shoved in his face and he pushed through them, approaching the signature red car that he’d be using.

“Calum, what’s it like driving one of the most famous British singers in the world?” a reporter asked.

Calum looked up, for the first time getting a glimpse at who he’d be driving around.

Harry Styles looked as Calum always supposed he would. His hair was perfect, and the black jacket he was wearing made him look like he’d come straight out of an Abercrombie and fitch magazine. Or perhaps another magazine, Calum didn’t keep up with fashion.

Then came the dimples.

Calum could have thrown up.

“You must be Calum!” Harry exclaimed, holding out a hand and offering a smile.

Calum shook his hand, hard, not smiling, not saying anything.

Then he remembered the cameras. Remembered that this was his job. Remembered that as the top f1 driver, driving a man with a huge fanbase, the video would probably go viral. Calum forced a smile, “nice to meet you.” he said politely.

“So let's get to it yeah?” Harry asked, his British accent way too charming.

Calum nodded, going around the car to escape the paparazzi. He put his helmet on and took some joy in the fact that Harry would have to do the same, and maybe it would ruin his hair.

There were cameras in the car.

Calum wondered what would happen next.

“Excited for your race, mate.” Harry said, buckling himself in, “you’ve always been the one to watch.”

“Didn’t know you were a big formula one fan.” Calum mused, the engine roaring to life.

“I wasn’t.” Harry admitted, “we have a mutual friend, she got me into it.”

Calum wondered how far Harry would go. After all, there were cameras in the car, and Calum had heard about Harry and his tendency to stay elusive.

That’s when he realized it was serious. The thing between Harry and Celeste.

Harry had spent a lot of money to be in the car with Calum. He was facing the cameras, despite his desire to mostly not produce content.

And he was talking about Celeste.

Calum’s foot stepped onto the petal and the car lurched forward. He hoped that Harry wouldn’t talk anymore. Hoped it would be a quiet ride.

“How did you two meet again?”

“What?”

“Our mutual friend.”

Calum wished he’d just say her name. But he understood why Harry was being aloof. Understood it protected Celeste from being prematurely exposed to his fan base, for better or for worse.

Calum respected it.

“Met in Monaco. She mentioned it was the day after she met you.” Calum said, making a point to mention Harry. He supposed it would ease Harry’s mind, knowing Celeste had mentioned him… even if it had only been a few days earlier. Calum pushed the car faster and then braked hard for a corner, throwing Harry to the side.

“That was a good race by the way.” Harry said, “You came in first, congratulations.”

“I like Monaco.” Calum said, “it’s a special place.”

“It is.” Harry agreed. Calum couldn’t be sure, but Harry seemed satisfied with their interaction. Calum wasn’t sure what he expected, after all, it’s not like the guy was going to come out and be aggressive with him… even if that’s what Calum might have done in his position.

The rest of the drive went smoothly, with Harry complimenting Calum’s driving and even letting out happy hollers at sharp turns.

As the car came to a stop, Harry turned to shake Calum’s hand, “maybe I'll see you tonight.” Harry offered.

“Maybe.” no way in hell.

One last smile and the gorgeous man was gone, out of Calum’s car and hopefully his life.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out?”

“Yeah, I need sleep tonight, the race is tomorrow-”

“Did… I- Harry told me about this morning, said he was eager to meet you, did you like him?”

“He’s fine, I’m just tired.” Calum lied.

Celeste was silent on the other end of the line for a moment, “but tomorrow night, we’re still on, right?”

When she’d first arrived and they’d gotten drinks, Calum had promised to do the same thing after the race. But when he’d promised he’d assumed it would be just the two of them. Calum didn't want to go anymore, “yeah.” he said.

“Okay, because I had a lot of fun last night Cal. Anyways, have a good night, get some sleep, you’re going to be great tomorrow.”

“You promise?” Calum asked.

“I’m your captain, I definitely promise.” Celeste laughed, the sound was magic, “love ya Cal! Talk tomorrow!”

“Love you too.”

He hung up.

***

Celeste’s arms wrapped around him and when Calum lifted her off the ground, her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, “you did it!” she screamed in his ear, a little too loud, but he didn’t care.

He set her down and Celeste pulled way, keeping him close as she looked up at him, “that was amazing Calum!”

“It was nothing-” Calum brushed it off, looking down. He could be cocky about his driving, but not with her. With Celeste, his heart always seemed to swell.

“Calum, you hit every single apex!” Celeste said and Calum’s heart fluttered even more.

She’d learned a term used in F1.

He didn’t even know what to say so he just looked down at her, unable to stop smiling.

“Harry’s not coming, by the way, he had to go back to London for work.” Celeste said, finally pulling away from Calum, “so it’s just us tonight!”

Calum let out a breath, smile widening, “so where are we headed?”

He didn't care that other drivers were probably going to celebrate at a specific location. He only cared about taking every moment with Celeste…. As friends of course.

Of course….

Who was he kidding, Calum knew he was walking a fine line. Part of him wondered what would happen when she came to England… before he’d found out about Harry. And although those ideas were no use anymore, he’d be damned if he didn’t still take advantage of their time together.

“Let's get drinks?” Celeste suggested.

Calum smiled, “sounds perfect.”

***

Calum stared up at the ceiling and Celeste rolled onto her side to look at him. Calum smiled, turning to look at her too, “what?”

“I’m just…” Celeste studied him, “I haven't really had any guy friends before. All the guys I know try to be my friend just to get me in bed. And we’re here and you’re not trying anything.”

Calum coughed awkwardly, sitting up, “well, you’re seeing Harry.”

Celeste rolled onto her back, hair fanning over the pillow, “yeah.”

“How is that going? You didn’t talk much about him last time we hung out.” it was true. They’d been together for hours and Celeste hadn’t mentioned him once.

Celeste took a deep breath, “I really like him. I think. I don’t know. When I was a teenager and he was in One Direction he was huge. And, like every other teenage girl on earth, I was definitely a fan of his. Being with him feels… well, it’s odd. He’s a great guy but I almost feel like I enjoy the grandeur of him. I enjoy the Harry that I know from social media…” there was a pause, then, “fuck, this is why I’m trying not to get drunk anymore. I always want to talk about philosophy and end up confusing myself even more. Forget I said anything, I’m being stupid.”

Calum looked at her, watching the way her chest rose and fell. Her eyes were closed. She was frowning.

It was the most vulnerable he’d ever seen her.

Calum laid down next to her, “I'm sure you’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll probably just do what I always do, stick with it until something really bad happens, then run away.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy.” Calum stated.

Celeste smiled, “Never said it was.” she yawned, “can I stay here tonight?”

“Sure… do you need me to build a pillow wall like last time?” Calum teased.

“For your protection or mine?” Celeste flirted, but Calum knew it was just for the sake of teasing, her expression changed, “why did you have to make a pillow fort last time?”

“You asked for one.”

“So you just built me one?”

“Of course.”

“You’re really sweet, has anyone ever told you that?” Celeste asked, pulling the covers over her body.

“No.”

“Well, people should tell you you’re sweet more often.” Celeste’s eyes were closed and from the wispy tone of her voice, Calum knew she was about three seconds from falling asleep.

“Goodnight Celeste.”

“Goodnight Cal.”

***

Calum stared at the deep-fried chicken on top of waffles. Celeste looked like a kid in a candy shop and Calum was shocked she’d even found a place that served her favourite breakfast. She looked adorable, having stolen one of his Ferrari hats and a shirt.

It was big on her, but he loved it.

“Cal, can you take a pic of me and my waffles?” Celeste asked, handing him her phone.

“Sure.” he said, adjusting the camera as Celeste made a face, tongue out, fingers up in peace signs.

He took a few pictures, smiling down at them before he handed the phone back.

“Do you mind if I tag you?” Celeste asked, “I mean, I am the new Ferrari spokesperson after all.” she joked, flipping the hat so it was backwards.

“Sure.”

He watched her. She was so focused on making the post, it was her job after all.

Calum wondered if Harry would mind that she was tagging him. But… as was plainly obvious, he was just Celeste’s friend.

Sitting there, across from the gorgeous model, Calum decided he’d be just that: a friend. He’d be there for her always, or as long as she wanted him around. He’d take her out for waffles and make blanket forts and support her, even if it meant supporting her with another man.

He’d be whatever she needed him to be. And if that was simply a friend, so be it.

***

“Can you believe you’re almost done the world championship?” Celeste asked.

Calum smiled. It had been five months since they’d met. This championship had felt particularly long for some reason, “miss me already?” Calum teased.

He’d been coming back to New York on his time off as much as he could. He was living for the nights he and Celeste spent at the bar they should have met in. The bar that, if he’d had the balls, could have been where they’d met months before. Could have been where they had their first date-

“Of course I do Cal!” Celeste said, “fuck, I wanted to tell you once you got here, but, I can’t hold it in anymore!”

Calum’s skin felt cold and anxiety overcame it. She’d been getting more and more excited about Harry and any time she had news, Calum was scared what it would be.

“Harry and I are getting married.”

Calum’s mouth was dry, when he opened his mouth to speak it hurt and he had to swallow thickly, giving him the time to think, “congratulations.”

“You’ll come right?”

“When is it?” Calum asked, worried by the eagerness in her voice.

Celeste and Harry had just come out as a couple a month earlier, when he’d taken her to an event. Calum hadn’t looked at the pictures but Celeste had sent him snaps of her dress before she went, and Calum had been so upset he’d gone to a gym to punch things.

“Harry wants it soon, weird right? I didn’t think he was the marriage type.”

Calum bit his tongue. He’d never brought up the night in England when Celeste had told him she worried about why she was with Harry. He wanted to bring it up.

He chose not to.

“Anyways, next month I think?”

Calum’s chest hurt.

“So you’re coming right?” the hope in her voice made it worse.

“I’ll be there.” Calum choked out, “I have to go.”

“Aw really?”

“Yeah, sorry, talk later?” Calum collapsed into his bed.

“Good luck in your race tomorrow. Last one, then you’re coming home.”

Home. He’d wondered before if home was a feeling. He’d felt it every time he was in the bar with Celeste, or grabbing waffles, or with her staring at the stars or even the ceiling.

He wondered if he’d ever feel home again.

***

Alexa looked at Calum. He’d not been impressed to be there. Every time Celeste came out in a new white dress, he’d put on a big happy face, but as soon as Celeste was gone he’d frown again, sitting back and sighing.

“Aren’t you happy for her?” Alexa asked. She’d heard about Calum and Celeste being good friends. Hell, part of Alexa wondered if Calum had surpassed her on the friend scale. Not that Alexa had minded, she was busy and working in LA more and more, which made it harder to keep up with Celeste.

“Yeah. Of course.” Calum said.

“You don’t look happy.” Alexa pointed out.

Before Calum could respond, Celeste called for Alexa’s help and Alexa disappeared. Calum pulled out his phone, opening Celeste’s Instagram. The newest picture was one he’d taken. Celeste bending over the pool table to take a shot. She’d kicked his ass that night, and Calum smiled sadly, wondering if she’d still be up for dodgy bar nights after she was married.

Movement caught his eye and he looked up.

Celeste was standing there in the new wedding dress. It had a form-fitting corset that showed off her curves. Plain white and silky with harsher lines rather than a softly rounded neckline. Beautiful tulle layers of soft white fabric puffed out from under the corset.

She looked like a princess.

Calum’s heart leaped in his chest and he looked at her with eyes that betrayed everything… to Alexa, who was watching him carefully.

“What do you guys think?” Celeste asked, spinning.

“It’s the one.” Calum stated.

“I agree.” Alexa nodded.

Celeste beamed, her whole body alight with happiness as she looked at him, “I think so too.”

Celeste turned to go back into the changeroom and Alexa caught Calum’s eye, she frowned at him and Calum looked away.

Alexa felt bad for Calum, and as she helped Celeste out of the dress, Alexa also realized how much respect she had for the man. He’d said he was coming to the wedding. Alexa wondered if that was true.

***

He couldn’t do it.

He had to do it.

Calum sighed, leaning over the sink and splashing water onto his face. When he stood up, the face looking back at him in the mirror seemed put together.

Calum wished it was true.

The door to the bathroom opened and Alexa peeked her head in, “Cal?”

“This is the men’s bathroom.” Calum said, upset that she was disrupting him when he needed time alone.

“Celeste wanted me to come check on you.”

The anger in Calum’s shoulders disappeared and he took a deep breath, turning to Alexa, “I’m fine.” he lied.

Alexa stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, “you’re at your best friend's rehearsal dinner the night before her wedding. Your best friend, who I might add, you’re in love with.”

Calum swallowed thickly, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“It’s okay to admit it to someone Calum.” Alexa said, “I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Calum sighed, running a hand through his curls, “it’s my own fucking fault.”

“It’s not.”

“It is. I should have said something.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.” Calum said, voice rising, “but I should have. Before the wedding, before the engagement, before-” he cut himself off, turning to rest his hands on the sink again, head bowed, “it doesn’t matter.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re a really great guy.” Alexa said. There was a pause, then the bathroom door opened.

Celeste stuck her head in, eyes drifting between Alexa and Calum. For a moment she was expressionless, then she smiled, “what are you two up to?”

“Just talking.” Alexa said, “Calum needs to tell you something.”

Celeste entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She looked radiant as ever, in a soft lavender silky dress that Calum longed to touch. It lit up the green of her eyes and the tanness of her skin and Calum’s mouth went dry looking at her.

It had hurt to spend the whole dinner seated next to her, watching her laugh with Harry. Calum could barely stand it anymore.

“So…” Celeste said, “what’s up?” she looked between Alexa and Calum again.

“I’m going to give you two privacy.” Alexa said, quickly leaving.

Celeste turned to Calum, concern on her face, “is something wrong?”

Calum’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Celeste waited patiently, searching his face for a sign of what was to come.

This was the time to say it. The time to tell her how he felt.

He couldn’t do it.

Couldn’t bear the thought of making her upset, two days before her wedding.

“You’re not coming to the wedding are you?” Celeste frowned.

“No.” Calum breathed out before he could stop himself. He wouldn’t have said it on his own, wouldn't have brought it up, but now that she had… now that she was verbalizing it, he realized there was no way in hell he’d be able to go. Celeste’s eyes were welling with tears and Calum was quick to wipe them away before they could drip down her chin and tarnish her dress, “hey, it’s not you, I uh- work.”

The lie also slipped out before he could stop it. He couldn’t make her think it was her fault. Couldn’t tell her the truth.

“Work called.” he said, sounding more certain, “there’s a new thing they’re trying on my car so I have to get on a plane.”

“You’re flying out?” Celeste asked in confusion, “but your tournament just ended? I thought you were home for good? I planned the wedding so you could come-”

Calum’s heart broke at her words. He brushed more tears away from her face, hands cupping her cheeks. Celeste grabbed his wrists, looking up at him with those big green eyes.

His voice cracked when he spoke, “I’m sorry.”

Celeste moved his hands away from her face and hugged him, her body pressed against his front. Calum’s arms wrapped around her, “you’re going to have a great wedding.” he said, voice hoarse, “big and white and just what you wanted.”

Celeste cried harder and Calum wanted to go outside and crash his ferrari into a wall.

The door to the bathroom opened and Harry peaked his head in, immediately entering when he saw Celeste crying, “What happened?!” Harry asked.

Celeste pulled away from Calum and stepped instead into Harry’s arms, not saying anything as she cried.

“I got called in for work so I can’t make the wedding, I'm flying out tonight.” Calum said. It was easier to lie to Harry, “Celeste is upset I won't be there.”

Harry studied Calum for a moment, then he nodded, “I'm sorry you can’t make it.”

“Me too.” he paused, “I'll go grab Alexa, she’ll have makeup, I don't want to ruin your night-”

“When are you leaving?” Celeste asked suddenly, turning to look at him.

“In two hours.” he lied, eager to have an excuse to leave.

He was glad Celeste was too shocked by the sudden turn of events to ask many questions or prod him for answers. He didn't have any answers. Knew the lies were weak.

Calum turned to leave but Celeste grabbed his hand, “when do you come back?”

“I don’t know.” Calum answered. He didn't know anything.

He’d go to Italy in a few days, that was Ferrari's home base. He’d learn some more Italian so his mechanics could talk to him, he’d-

“Calum?”

“Yeah?”

Celeste opened her mouth then closed it, then opened it again “don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t.” Calum looked at her quizzically, unsure where the sudden warning had come from, “send me pictures from the wedding okay?” he wouldn’t look at them.

Celeste nodded. She said nothing else and neither did Calum.

He left the bathroom, bumping into Alexa in the hallway, “what happened?!” Alexa asked, shocked by the tears that were welling in Calum’s eyes.

“I’m skipping the wedding.”

“Did you tell her you love her?” Alexa whispered, following Calum as he attempted to leave the venue.

“No.”

“So what happened?!”

“Told her I’m leaving the country tonight for work-”

“Calum!” Alexa grabbed his arm and made him stop, looking around to make sure no one was looking at them, “you can’t leave.”

“I’m going to go to Italy-”

“You can’t!” Alexa insisted.

“Why not?” Calum asked, beginning to get angry.

“Just-” Alexa looked around again, voice lowering, “please stay in town. Until after the wedding, then you can go wherever you want, you can be out of here tomorrow night. But… trust me Calum. It’s better if you’re here.”

“Why?”

“I just… I have a feeling.”

“A feeling?” Calum laughed, but there was no humour in it.

“Celeste is my best friend. She’s never said anything to me about you but-” Alexa cut herself off as a server walked by, looking at the two brunettes huddled together in secrecy, “just don’t leave the country. Promise me.”

Calum sighed, “fine. I’ll stay, but I’m getting a ticket for tomorrow night. then I’m gone.”

“Okay.”

Calum studied Celeste’s best friend. Wondered what she was thinking. Wondered what she couldn’t say.

***

Celeste had managed to get herself put together for the remaining rehearsal dinner, it was near done anyways. She’d gone home with Alexa, to the apartment they shared when they were both in the city.

Celeste would be moving out as soon as she returned from her honeymoon and her things were already in boxes, a suitcase packed for the trip Harry had planned to celebrate the wedding.

Alexa watched Celeste mope around. If Alexa didn’t know any better, she would have assumed Celeste had just been dumped.

Except that she hadn’t.

“Your wedding is tomorrow, aren’t you excited?” Alexa asked, passing a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream to her friend.

“Yeah,” Celeste frowned, “but Cal won’t be there.”

“Harry will. That’s what matters right?”

Celeste took a deep breath, “yeah.”

“What are you thinking Celeste?” Alexa asked, a question she’d become accustomed to asking. Celeste didn't open up much, even when prodded.

“I don’t know.” Celeste fell down onto her bed, careful not to drop the ice cream.

Her eyes went to the wedding dress hanging there, then to the picture of her and Calum that they’d taken in Italy months earlier. The two of them at Ferrari HQ where he’d shown her around and explained all the cars to her, talking in mangled Italian to the workers who’d smiled at his attempts.

Celeste groaned loudly, “well. I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“Uh huh.” Alexa didn’t sound too convinced.

***

Celeste paced back and forth, hands on her hips. It was an odd sight but not a surprising one for Alexa who stood there watching the fully dressed bride have a panic attack.

“What time is it?!” Celeste asked suddenly, turning to look at Alexa.

“Eleven forty. wedding is in twenty minutes.”

“Oh my god.” Celeste fell onto a chair, hiding her face in her hands while careful not to smudge her makeup.

“Talk to me Celeste.” Alexa said, kneeling in front of her friend.

Celeste looked at Alexa from behind her fingers, then took a deep breath. For a moment Alexa thought Celeste would actually open up, then her mouth shut, “this is a mess.” Celeste whispered.

Alexa sighed, “Celeste. Is it possible, that the reason you were so upset when Calum left last night, is because you wanted him at the wedding-”

“Of course I want him there!” Celeste frowned.

“But maybe not as someone in the crowd? Maybe as the groom?” Alexa asked.

Celeste looked shocked for a moment, staring at her friend as if she’d just said she believed the earth was flat, “what?”

“You and Calum.” Alexa said softly, “do you love him?”

“Of course I love him.”

“As more than a friend.” Alexa specified.

“I-” Celeste looked distressed, “I’m getting married to Harry-”

“Just answer the question.” Alexa took Celeste’s hand gently.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s gone. He chose work over being at my wedding and left the country last night-”

“He doesn’t have work today, and he didn’t leave the country.”

“What?!”

“He didn't come because he couldn’t stand to see you with Harry anymore.”

“What?!” Celeste said, louder this time.

“He loves you.”

Celeste stood up abruptly and Alexa followed suit. Alexa had expected Celeste to be ranting, but the girl in front of her was oddly silent.

Celeste’s hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone. She hit speaker and the sound of ringing filled the room.

“Celeste? Are you okay?” Calum’s voice was worried.

“You lied.”

“What?”

“You’re still in New York?” her voice cracked. The line was quiet, Celeste bit her lip, “can… can you come, and bring your car please?”

“I-”

“Calum please.” Celeste said.

She’d never been one to beg, but there she was. Begging in her wedding dress.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Please hurry.”

***

Calum got out of the car but it didn’t matter, Celeste was already running down the steps. Her hands clutched the dress, lifting it up as to not dirty it.

She was, in every sense of the word, a runaway bride.

And Calum had never been more in love with her.

He held the door open for the car. He’d chosen the one without a top, it was old but still luxurious. A few girls had told him it was the black version of the car people drove off into the sunset in Grease, but Calum had never fact-checked that claim.

Celeste was beaming. Glowing really. And Calum was smiling back at her, helping her tuck her entire dress into the car before he closed the door and ran to the driver's seat.

The car roared to life, like a battle cry, or perhaps a battle won.

“I need to go to my apartment.” Celeste said and Calum didn’t question it.

She’d yet to tell him anything. But since they were driving away from the church, Calum guessed the wedding was over. He was guilty that it made him happy.

The radio was playing club music, the type of hype music Calum liked to drive to, and Celeste turned it up. Her hair was getting messed up by the air whipping by them but Celeste was laughing, arms in the air.

She looked beautiful. Like a girl going to her wedding, not one running away.

Calum snuck glances at her at the first red light.

He could almost forget about Harry.

Until they drove up to the apartment and Harry was waiting there, leaning against his car. One of his friends was in the driver's seat, but he didn't get out of the car.

The look on Harry’s face was stony and it was obvious to Calum that he knew what was coming. “Calum, I need to talk to him is that okay?”

“Of course.” Calum answered.

Like Harry’s driver, Calum stayed in his car. Watching his best friend, the bride to be, get out and walk towards Harry. They were both dressed for the wedding, and it was odd to see them out on the New York street, even if it was a quiet one.

“Celeste, we need to be at the church-” Harry said.

“Harry, I love you but I can't marry you.” Celeste stated, “and I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it out.”

Harry was quiet.

“You’re one of the most wonderful people I've ever met.” Celeste continued, “and I needed to tell you this in person, but I can't do this. We’ve only been seeing each other for six months and we’re rushing things, don’t you think we’re rushing things?”

Harry sighed but nodded, he’d had the feeling too.

“Besides, we’re amazing friends and I do love you Harry, but I’m not in love with you.”

“Not the way you are with Calum.” Harry stated.

It knocked the air out of Celeste’s lungs. It was as if everyone had known her feelings except her, and maybe Calum, “I-”

“It’s okay.” Harry held up a hand, “s’ not like I would have been able to live in New York forever, and you can’t give up your sodding chicken and waffles.”

“Don’t bash the deep-fried chicken and waffles Harold.” Celeste said, faking offense, but then she was smiling and so was Harry.

“Come here.” Harry said, opening his arms.

They hugged and Celeste was happy neither of them were crying. It showed that this was right.

“I’m not going to deal with wedding guests.” Harry mused while pulling away.

“Me neither.” Celeste said, “we could both just not show up? That sounds like a good song.”

“You have left me with a lot of material.” Harry laughed, “well, I'll see you around Celeste.”

“See you around Harry.” Celeste said fondly, giving the brit one last smile before he got into his car and left. Then she bounded over to the car, leaning down to rest her arms on Calum’s door, “hey.”

“That looked like it went okay.” Calum said.

“It did. So, my bags are packed upstairs for a honeymoon that I’m not going on… what do you say we go somewhere?”

Calum smiled, “where to princess?”

“Take me back to Monte Carlo.”

***

The sound of the hotel room door opening woke Celeste up, her eyes landing on Calum. They’d arrived the night before and had immediately passed out, both too jetlagged to do much. Calum offered her a smile and Celeste stretched, yawning the words “where were you?”

“Wanted to get you breakfast but I didn't think the stuff downstairs was up to your standards.” Calum said, leaning on a wall. He wasn’t sure where to stand.

They were in Monaco.

They’d talked and watched movies the entire flight but neither had brought up the wedding.

He wasn’t sure where he stood with her. Wasn’t sure what he was allowed to ask.

Celeste could feel his awkwardness as she studied him. Then she stood up, adjusting the Ferrari shirt she was wearing. “Calum?”

“Hm?”

“Come here?”

Calum smiled softly, uncrossing his arms over his chest, he took a few steps forward. Celeste held out her arms and pulled Calum to her, looking up at him, “Calum. Do you know I love you?”

“Yeah.” Calum said, he’d heard it many times, after every phone call, after every ride he gave her home after a hangout.

“Do you know I'm in love with you?”

Calum’s breath caught in his chest and he wet his lips, mind racing. The thought that he was the reason for her ditching her wedding had crossed his mind but he’d pushed it to the side, instead deciding to be, as always, Celeste’s friend.

“Calum?” Celeste breathed his name, brushing her fingers over his cheekbone.

Instead of speaking he kissed her.

He’d gone so long not saying the words ringing through his brain, they could wait a little while longer.

His lips were soft on Celeste’s at first, hesitant, as if he was afraid she would pull away. Only when Celeste wrapped her arms around the back of his neck did he get more comfortable, one hand cupping her face while the other went to her waist, pulling her closer.

Calum pulled away and his entire body shuddered for a moment, in something like pure ecstasy, maybe shock.

Celeste smiled up at him, kissing his lips once more softly, “Are you okay?” she asked.

Calum laughed, returning her grin, he shook his head a little, “I just-” he couldn’t find the right words to explain how he was feeling, Celeste waited patiently and- god, he loved her so much.

She could see it in his eyes.

Calum’s fingers dug into Celeste’s hips and she beamed at him, brushing her fingers against his cheeks. She could feel what was unsaid and almost appreciated it more because he couldn’t find the words to say it. She’d always had a connection with Calum that seemed to be on another level, and moments like this confirmed it to her.

Moments like this. She enjoyed the thought of that, of more to come.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” Celeste teased, eyes darting down to look at his lips then up at him again.

Calum kissed her, not as hesitant as the first kiss. His hands went to her waist immediately, one of them dipping down to just above her bum. His fingers bunched in the red fabric and the cool air met Celeste’s ass. She was in a thong, Calum hadn't noticed yet because she’d been covered by the shirt since the night before, but when his hand dipped a little lower, he groaned into her mouth and Celeste knew he’d discovered the flimsy fabric covering her.

His hand kneaded her ass harshly, and Celeste smiled against his lips, loving the way it felt, loving the way Calum was groaning in anticipation. Celeste pressed against his front, already able to feel his hard on straining his grey sweats.

Then Celeste pulled away and Calum let her go, eyes opening questioningly.

Celeste pulled off the Ferrari shirt Calum had given her, revealing her near nudity underneath. Calum licked his lips, eyes focused on her chest. Then Celeste sat down onto the bed, her thick thighs looking deliciously curvy and grabable, Calum couldn’t hold himself back. He was between her legs before he could help himself, kneeling on the floor and tearing off her black silk thong.

“Calum!” Celeste laughed, fingers tangling in his curls. She’d not expected him to be so eager, expected him to go for kissing first. She had no idea how long he’d been waiting to taste her.

Calum’s fingers danced over Celeste’s calf and he moved it to be on his shoulder, his lips trailing up higher and higher. He kissed both thighs, nipping a little at the skin, fingers digging in as he held her in place.

“So pretty.” he mused, more to himself than anything.

Her fingers gripped his curls when his lips finally met her, wrapping around her clit. He’d had enough buildup. Enough teasing. He wanted to hear her moaning his name, wanted to watch her come undone under him.

The first moan was soft, more like a whimper, and Calum’s whole body felt like it was lit in flame. He sucked harder on her clit, fingers digging into her delicious thighs where they were on his shoulders. Her skin was warm and smelled like flowers, he wondered how she always smelled so good.

Celeste’s eyes were closed, lips parted, sinful, soft noises whispered into the cosmos as her lover devoured her.

Her lover… yes, that is what he was.

Calum was her lover in every sense of the word. It had just taken her a long time to realize it. He did everything for her and as he brought her to her first high, her heart filled with love. Love that had always been there, unidentified and growing. Now that she knew what it was, she was never going to let him go.

Calum licked his lips, looking up at Celeste. Her eyes were still closed, chest rising and falling softly as she chased her breath. He took her legs off of his shoulders and Celeste opened her eyes, looking down at him with a lazy smile. A comfortable smile. As if they’d done this a thousand times, “hi.” she said, voice near a whisper.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Her smile widened, “come here.” she said, instead of answering his question.

Calum moved to be on the bed with her, settled between her legs that wrapped around his waist.

He kissed her shoulder first, then her collarbone, moving up her neck before he reached her lips. When he kissed her, he kissed her gently. One of his hands came up to brush over her nipple, earning a soft shudder from Celeste that made him smile against her lips. “You’re so beautiful.” he told her, kisses traveling to her neck as she wrapped her arms around him, a sigh of content leaving her lips, “fucking love you.” he murmerred.

Celeste’s skin felt warm and her heart lurched in her chest. She knew he loved her, but hearing him say it was different. She brought his lips back to hers and kissed him like her life depended on it, part of her thought it did.

The pressure of his hard, clothes cock, against her sensitive entrance had her moaning within seconds, eager to get rid of Calum’s clothes. Soon, his Ferrari shirt has joined the one she was wearing on the floor and his joggers following soon after.

“I wanna top.” Celeste said against Calum’s lips and he paused, giving her a look but agreeing. He got onto his back and watched her straddle him, lining herself up with him. She sank down slowly, both of them groaning at the way it felt.

He had to admit it was a beautiful view. The first bounce had her breasts moving in a way that made Calum’s mouth water. His hands reached up to cup her breasts and Celeste moaned, continuing to bounce up and down on him.

Calum hadn’t had many religious experiences in his life.

This was one of them.

One of his hands went down to her ass, giving it a test smack that made Celeste laugh, her eyes opening. Her hands went to his chest and she leaned over him, kissing his neck while she continued bouncing up and down. He could see the way her ass was moving with each bounce and Calum groaned, eyes closing as he enjoyed the way it felt.

He was usually the top, usually the one doing all the work. It was nice to just lay back and relax and be doted on, especially since he loved her. Every kiss made him tingle and his heart was racing in his chest.

He felt the way he always felt after a race. It was exhilarating.

His arms wrapped around Celeste, slowing her motions so he could roll them so he was on top. The pace he wanted was faster than the one she had been giving him, and now it was his turn to make her feel good.

She looked so beautiful under him, and the feeling of her breasts pressed against his bare chest did not go unnoticed. He wanted to be kissing her, touching her, loving her.

He angled his hips differently, hitting a spot inside of her that had Celeste’s legs tightening around his waist, “holy shit.” she breathed, moaning loudly.

Her fingers went to his curls again, tugging lightly at the dark strands. Their lips were passionate and slow against each other, tongues clashing, teeth biting. Then Calum grabbed one of her hands, interlocking their fingers as he pressed it down into the bed.

“I’m gonna-” Celeste began but Calum cut her off with his lips, pace quickening.

The whole bed was moving with each thrust, and Celeste’s whines were getting louder as he kissed her. He could feel her fluttering around him, a sign of her impending high. Celeste squeezed Calum’s fingers tight, high whimpers stopping as her whole body tensed, orgasm hitting her.

She was so tight around him that Calum came too, thrusts getting sloppy as they rode out their highs. Their kisses were open-mouthed, both of them moaning into each other's mouths.

When they were both done, Calum stopped gripping her hand so hard, instead, he pressed soft kisses over her face. “Fuck, I love you.” he whispered.

Celeste smiled up at him, “I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

***

The usual patrons of the bar watched the gorgeous couple play pool.

She was dressed in red, a colour she’d adopted to support her boyfriend. The colour made her glow, but her boyfriend’s smile was brighter. He watched her with complete adoration, even when she sunk a ball and got one step closer to beating him.

They were the same people they’d been when they were strangers.

He’d quit smoking, claiming he didn't need the high anymore, after all, he was with the love of his life. He still sometimes brought a cigarette or two to give to the bouncers, chatting with them outside before joining Celeste in the bar.

Celeste still played pool with girls who challenged her, but this time, Calum would come to stand behind her. Watching, his arms looped around his girlfriend, enjoying the way she chatted to the girls like they were old friends.

But they were happier, elevated versions of themselves. They’d always dazzled before, but together, they were an unstoppable force. They had the type of happiness people could only dream of.

Calum had always heard that if you dated your best friends, things would be okay.

With Celeste, his best friend, in his arms, he knew it was true. Her smile was contagious, it always had been. Watching her dance away, her dress teasing him, Calum was thankful for everything that had happened.

There’d been a time he hated himself for not talking to her, but it had led him to where they were now. He’d never believed in fate.

He did now.

********

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