#I know we'll end up on the same one way road

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 8

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7)

Oof. This took me way longer than planned. Partly, because I had some uni assignments to work on and partly, because I went home the weekend after episode 8 dropped and ended up binging the entirety of Star in My Mind with my mother. On her request, btw. Who am I to say no to my mother when she wants to watch a JoongDunk show for the 3rd time together. I actually meant to upload it a day or two ago, but then I kept realizing and noticing and remembering details that I really wanted to add, some of which were also language related, so I then needed to check with my Thai language correspondents which also took some time as I waited for their replies.

But here it finally is! I know in my last meta I said it was my longest one yet, but this one's even longer, actually. Watch my metas hit 20k words by the end of the series lmao. Anyway, enjoy. And apologies in advance if my ep9 meta is also late, since I had to finish this one first. I promise I'll try my best to get it done before ep10 <3

Pronoun situation: As usual, just assume Fadel and Style use the rude pronouns guu/mueng with each other unless I specify otherwise.

To recap: So Fadel and Bison found out. Fadel and Bison are mad. Fadel and Bison want to kill Kant and Style. Style was drugged, kidnapped, found himself tied up at a pool staring down the barrel of his own boyfriend's gun, survived, and then drove off into the sunset, uh, I mean went on a little road trip in search of his best friend and his boyfriend's brother/best friend's boyfriend. As bleak as things may seem with Style being back at square one with the added challenge that Fadel now actively wants to kill him, this, at the same time, may be one of the best things that has ever happened to Style, because finally everything is out in the open. Style no longer has any secrets to keep (except for the deal with the car) and he can finally be brutally honest in everything he says and everything he does.

No. 1: Midnight Mote– Oh Wait Wrong Show

We meet them as they're pulling into the parking lot of a motel. Since it seems to be pretty late at night, I think it's fairly safe to assume that they were driving all day, likely non-stop. The first thing out of Style's mouth is a horny line. "Why are we at a motel? Did you get turned on while we were on the way or what?" And just from that line alone we can actually see how far he's come since the beginning of the series and how far he's come in his feelings for Fadel too. Remember my first few metas about the first few episodes of the show and how I would go into whether Style really meant his flirty comment or not? I don't think in this moment Style was actually trying to seduce Fadel (we know how he acts when he does want to seduce him and we'll even get to see an example of it in a bit when they're in the room), but it's still very different from his flirty/horny comments in the first couple of episodes in the series where he also wasn't really genuinely trying to seduce Fadel. Back then, a lot of his comments were very loud in a performative kind of way, as if he was saying them for an audience, not because he actually meant what he said. This one here? There is absolutely none of that loud, performative energy to be found. No, Style makes this comment very casually, almost matter-of-factly even as if he's asking something like So, what do you want for dinner tonight?

It's no longer a performance to him. In fact, he's quite serious about it and while it was an offhanded rhetorical question, it still almost sounds like an honest question. The flirting is no longer a joke to Style the way it was in the first three episodes of the series. He genuinely wants to know. But Fadel shuts him down and orders him to get out of the car. Style is a bit annoyed at the dismissal, but by now he's also used to it. After all, he did spent 4 episodes doing nothing but hitting one wall after the other. And just like back then, he won't let Fadel shake him off that easily. So Style complains: "I’m just curious so I know what to expect. It’s not like I can just turn the switch on, you know?" Again, this is not a performance. In fact, this time around, he's even more serious than compared his comment before. He may not be planning on actively seducing Fadel right here right now in the car, but who is Style to say no if the opportunity to sleep with Fadel arises? For Style, sleeping with Fadel is absolutely on the table if Fadel makes the offer. And so Style lets him know. "I’m just curious so I know what to expect." Will you be sleeping with me? Are you planning on sleeping with me?

Fadel takes a moment to reply and there is an interesting expression on Style's face as he waits for an answer:

Style is watching him carefully, really observing Fadel's face. He's done this before when he's hit Fadel with a flirty or suggestive line, but where before his expression would always be one of excitement or amusement or curiosity or sometimes even smugness, this time it's completely serious. It's almost as if Style is searching for something. But searching for what?

As I mentioned above, I don't think Style is actively trying to seduce Fadel here. I think he's more testing the waters. Because while yes, Fadel has slept with him before and yes, Fadel is in love with him and Style knows it (he will later confirm it for himself at the end of the episode), the problem is that Fadel is also very pissed at him right now and is actively planning to kill him, has actively tried to kill him only hours ago, actually. If that doesn't send confusing signals, then I don't even know anymore. And so Style needs to figure out where exactly he stands with Fadel right now – that's what Style is searching for when he's staring at Fadel. He's trying to see how far Fadel has pushed him away now that the lies have come to light, is trying to find out how close Fadel will let him come now that Fadel has calmed down a bit from his tantrum at the pool. Will Fadel let Style get close enough again to maybe even be willing to sleep with him like before? Is their relationship maybe not in ruins yet? Has Fadel's anger faded enough? Does Style still have a chance with him? Is there a chance they can go back to the happiness they shared before all hell broke loose? This matters to Style and it matters a lot. And so he tries to look for the answers in Fadel's face as he waits for Fadel's reply. And after a moment, Fadel lifts his gun and hits him with:

I didn't take you here to sleep with you. กูไม่ไ��้พามึงมาเอาเนาะ [guu mâi dâai paa mueng maa ao nó] I - not - take - you - come - sleep with - [particle] Official subs: I’m not sleeping with you.

Sex is not the purpose for which Fadel made Style drive to a motel of all places. Fadel informs Style that this is where he's meeting Bison and repeats his order for Style to get out of the car. Style actually stares at Fadel for a second before he reacts:

This is the second right before Style turns his head and says he'll wait. And again I think this is him taking in Fadel's response and his brain working out where exactly Fadel has put him now. That's important info for Style to know. Style needs to understand where exactly he stands, because he needs to find out how much distance precisely it is that he has to overcome so that he can figure out a way to overcome that distance. Because Style doesn't want there to be any distance between the two of them at all. But Fadel clearly won't let Style get anywhere close right now. So Style turns his head and announces that he'll be waiting in the car. He's not in the mood to follow along, Fadel is a big boy and can go and get his brother by himself. Fadel, however, isn't in the mood to play either. He points his gun at Style's head again and tells him no. Style will not be waiting in the car. Style looks severely unimpressed.

Fadel orders Style to follow him, and in fact, not just to follow Fadel but walk in front of him, actually, thank you very much. And yes, Fadel does literally say "follow me", not "come along":

ตามกูมา [dtaam - guu - maa] follow - me - come Official subs: You come with me.

As a translation student I think it's a shame the translator didn't stick to a literal translation here, because I think it's pretty funny how Fadel is all "follow me" at first until he remembers that "following" implies walking behind someone and then changes his mind and tells Style to take the lead instead so that Fadel can actually keep an eye on him and threaten him with his gun if need may be. With Fadel ordering Style to walk behind him at first, I think it highlights his unspoken threat of "Walk in front of me (where I can see you)" even more and it's a shame the translator removed that. But despite the threat, Style just continues to be unimpressed. In fact, Fadel is really starting to get on Style's nerves now. And so he rolls his eyes and sighs the biggest sigh ever to make sure Fadel really can't miss how Style feels about this, how he feels about getting out of that car, how he feels about Fadel bossing him around and threatening him and waving a gun in his face.

Style is so fucking done with Fadel's stupid fucking act. And Style knows it's an act, he knows Fadel won't be killing him. At least not any time soon. And especially not right here in the parking lot of this motel. Fadel steps out of the car and Style watches him, then shakes his head, annoyed, before he follows Fadel's lead and gets out of the car as well.

They make their way towards the aunty and Fadel actually does fall behind Style as they walk. Once they reach the aunty, Fadel starts questioning her about Bison. She recognizes Bison on the photo, but hasn't seen him in a while. Aunty is worried and asks if he ran away from home. Style immediately jumps in and comes up with a reasonable story.

@secriden has an interesting thought about this:

[T]he story Style comes up with about why they're looking for a missing person on their own like this (instead of, y'know, going to the police like upright, non-hitman citizens would've) was really good to explain their urgency/frustration and preempt any suspicion so that the auntie is unlikely to report them to the cops. Style is actively, genuinely helping Fadel out and using his excellent skills at playing Asian aunties to full effect for him. Ugh, just look at how earnest and worried Style's expression is!? He totally disarms the auntie while I bet she would've been a lot more suspicious and distrustful if grumpy face on the left had come asking questions alone.

I think this is certainly an aspect of it, but I'm not sure how much of it is Style consciously doing this in order to help Fadel out and to keep the aunty from getting too suspicious and how much of it is Style acting on instinct. Not to mention, part of this is definitely also Style just being a chatty cat, ready to strike up a conversation with anyone who'll listen to him talk. Especially when it involves aunties that he can wrap around his finger with his charm. That is Style's personality after all.

I also love how Style drops the "boyfriend" without a second thought. Because obviously they are still boyfriends. Yes, Fadel drugged him and kidnapped him and pulled a gun on him and nearly killed him but never once did he utter the words "I'm breaking up with you" or "This relationship is over". So of course this relationship is very much still on. Why wouldn't it be?

Though let me just say, I don't think Style necessarily called Fadel his boyfriend deliberately in this moment in the sense of that he is actively trying to send some kind of underlying message to Fadel. I mean, in a way yes, but this boyfriend mention is very casual (as if it's the most self-evident thing in the world) and so I don't think his main goal here is to send some kind of deliberate pointed message along the lines of Do you hear that Fadel, I truly love you and I still consider you my boyfriend to Fadel, because if that were the case, he would have highlighted the word "boyfriend" more. Style will be calling Fadel his boyfriend very deliberately and pointedly later in the episode after a certain confrontation. But for now, this underlying message is more of a side thought.

Aunty asks if the two of them want a room. Style say yes. Fadel says no. Style insists. He's tired and there's no point in continuing their search for Bison right now. Fadel is stubborn. They have to keep going. Style starts getting overdramatic and flaunts his waist. Aunty supports Style. She refers to Style as Fadel's boyfriend. Style throws Fadel a pleased, warm look and raises his eyebrows at him. See? She's on my side. I'm winning this. Fadel says Style isn't his boyfriend. We don't even get to see Style's reaction to that claim, so I guess it couldn't have hit him too hard. Maybe he was even half expecting this sort of reaction with the way Fadel has been pulling back from him and has been rebuilding his walls.

Aunty tells them she'll be putting them in a special room and Fadel doesn't argue. Aunty presents them with lube and a condom. Style throws Fadel an amused and a little smug look.

No. 2: Of Mechanics and Race Car Beds

Fadel is having one of the worst nights of his life. That special room is very much not to his liking. Style, though, loves it. Obviously. Although, I think he also partly says it to be extra nice to the aunty to make up for Fadel being such a grumpy cat and partly as a way to get under Fadel's skin. The "Fast. Hard. Furious." part especially is a direct message to Fadel. Style is being a little shit again in order to get through to Fadel, but what's different now compared to the early episodes is that there is so now much more fondness that comes with it. When he smiles at Fadel afterwards, there is amusement in his expression, but moreover there is so much warmth and affection as well. There's even an air of playful innocence about it like Don't you agree, baby? 😇

The aunty leaves and Style comments on how he's never had sex in a car before (and to those who are calling bullshit on that statement, let me just point out: he said he never had sex in a car, he didn't say anything about never having sex with a car. I mean, we all saw how he touched Kant's car back in episode 1 🤭🤭🤭). Style takes off his shirt, throws it at Fadel, leans onto the windshield of the car and says some very flirty and suggestive things. Fadel finally gets up from his spot in the very last corner of the room, walks up to Style, grabs his hand and leads it down his own body. Then Fadel leans in for a kiss, only to handcuff Style to the bed.

This whole scene is very reminiscent of the kitchen scene at the start of episode 4. In both scenes Style says flirty and suggestive shit with the actual goal of getting into Fadel's pants, in both scenes Style makes a comment about how it's like a sex fantasy (Note: in episode 4 the subs say "wild", but since he is literally saying an English loanword I think you can hear it for yourself and don't need me to spell it out for you in Thai like I usually do), in both scenes Fadel is trying to push Style away, in both scenes Style is also trying to annoy Fadel in some way. And yet both of these scenes go very differently.

In my ep4 meta I discussed why Style genuinely meant all the flirting in the scene and how he was genuinely trying to get into Fadel's pants, but there is one aspect I actually didn't really mention, partly because I was focusing on other things and partly because back then I didn't yet have the comparison of how Style's flirting would be like once they were in an actual relationship and real romantic feelings were involved. I've mentioned before how when Style is saying suggestive things without actually meaning them in the earlier episodes his voice will be louder and his tone much more performative while when he is sincere in his sexual flirting his voice will go more quiet. When Style goes into his whole "I know a guy like you just needs a little nudge" spiel in episode 4 his voice is a lot more quiet than it usually is compared to the insincere flirting which is why (amongst other reasons I discuss in my ep4 meta) I think he definitely meant it, but (and this following part I didn't mention back then) there is something about his tone of voice and also the way he grabs Fadel's crotch in such a rough, unsexy way that makes me think he was also trying to piss Fadel off a bit. It's not just flirting, but it's a challenge too. Because Fadel keeps claiming he didn't miss Style when Style failed to show up at Fadel's usual spots, keeps claiming that Style is a only a bother to him. And so I think, as much as Style was genuinely up for sleeping with Fadel for a second time (the same way something else was, ahem, up that morning when Style awoke from his blissful dream), I think he was also using the chance to try and get under Fadel's skin again, trying to break down Fadel's walls even more, trying to make him admit that he was thinking about Style and that he had grown to like him.

Now in episode 8 Style doesn't need Fadel to admit his feelings anymore. Fadel is his boyfriend already, they've slept together on multiple occasions, and have also gotten to know each other on a deeper emotional level. Yes, Fadel has put his walls back up now that the truth is out, but now Style also knows what lies behind those walls. And so in this scene in the motel room he actively annoys Fadel on purpose, first of all by being flirty in the first place (Style knows exactly that Fadel isn't here to sleep with him since Fadel explicitly told him so when they arrived) and second of all by throwing his shirt at Fadel, which I think is an attempt at kind of connecting to/making contact with Fadel who retreated all the way into the last corner of the room and an attempt at getting some kind of reaction/engagement out of him. And what I've also seen someone note somewhere in the tags is how Style's shirt says "control". Style rids himself of "control" and throws it at Fadel. And we see that in the way he acts.

In the kitchen, even if he let Fadel take the lead once Fadel grabbed his waist and put him onto the table, in the beginning it was still Style who initiated everything, it was Style who moved closer to Fadel and who started touching him. Now in the motel, Style lets Fadel fully be in control from the start. Instead of getting closer to Fadel, Style now stays put exactly where he is. Instead of touching Fadel suggestively as Style did in the kitchen and is generally keen on doing whenever he genuinely wants to get into Fadel's pants he leans on onto the windshield of the car and puts himself on display completely, flaunts himself, offers himself to Fadel in a way that says here I am, take me any time. Style stays put, doesn't touch Fadel, and instead waits as he leaves the choice to engage entirely up to Fadel. Fadel can have him whenever he's ready. Style won't force Fadel before he is ready but he will make sure that Fadel knows loud and clear that Style's offer is here.

Style's tone is also fully grounded and serious now as well as very calm. It's the complete opposite of his loud, showy, performative behavior from the first three episodes when he was trying to "seduce" Fadel and was spewing insincere words. And when he smiles at Fadel, he's kinda amused but there is also so much warmth behind in his expression:

Fadel finally gets up and engages with Style and it's interesting, because back during episode 4 in the kitchen I already thought Style was serious about hooking up with Fadel and it's just so cool to see just how much more serious Style actually gets now that strong romantic feelings are involved. If you watch the kitchen scene from episode 4 and the motel scene from episode 8 back to back you can absolutely tell in which of these scenes Style is full on in love. And what else is interesting is that even though in the kitchen scene from episode 4 Style 10000% means every single thing he says and genuinely wants to hook up with Fadel right then and there, there is still some sort of performative air to his lines when he says "Oh, we’re doing it in the kitchen?" and "Wild. I like it". In episode 4, Style had just found out from the market aunty that his strategy of staying away did have an effect on Fadel, but when Style calls him out on it, Fadel keeps rejecting him and keeps telling him to piss off. And while Style's gut feeling tells him that Fadel does feel something for him, Style doesn't actually know. Because Fadel keeps saying otherwise and keeps pushing him away. But in the kitchen Style genuinely wants something from Fadel and I think when Style makes his comments while Fadel is putting him on the table his words aren't entirely grounded not because he's being insincere, but because he's trying to play it cool. I think he's trying to hide how desperate he is for Fadel to reciprocate his blossoming feelings.

Now in episode 8, though? Style is no longer desperate for it. Sure, Fadel is currently pushing him away again all the time, but it's okay. Because unlike in episode 4, Style now knows for a fact that they're in love. That Fadel is in love with him, too. Fadel is mad at him right now, but that will pass. So when Fadel comes over to (seemingly) go along with Style's seduction, Style doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to anymore. He doesn't have anything to prove anymore. He is confident about their mutual feelings and their relationship now.

Something that both the ep4 kitchen scene and the ep8 motel room scene, and actually also the ep3 storage room scene share is how Style lets Fadel take the lead. Style isn't forcing himself onto Fadel, he sits back and lets Fadel do whatever he wants to do to him.

Fadel grabs Style's hand and leads it down his chest. Style follows with curiosity, looking pleased, clearly happy that Fadel is actually engaging instead of pushing him away and definitely also excited about the prospect of getting some. Fadel leans in for a kiss and Style follows and—

Before Style knows it, Fadel has handcuffed him to the bed. Kissing is off the table, it seems. In episode 4, Style was extremely hurt by Fadel's rejection. Now in episode 8, he's still pretty miffed about it, but he is in no way as hurt as he was that time in the kitchen. Because by now Fadel has done this to him enough times that he's used to it. And also, as I mentioned before, their relationship is on a very different level now. Fadel handcuffs Style and Style is disappointed, but not surprised. Mostly he is just kinda annoyed that Fadel is still keeping up this stupid act. "What the hell? I ain’t running away, you know?"

In episode 4, Style ran off, hurt and humiliated and very enraged. In episode 8, Style stays put. Not that he could have gotten very far even if he had wanted to run off, but Style genuinely doesn't want to. In episode 4, Style spent quite a long time being angry at Fadel for dumping him like that. In episode 8, Style is annoyed for like a second upon realizing what Fadel's plan had been all along, but then he immediately gets over it and meets Fadel with love and warmth instead. Fadel says "I don’t trust you" and Style does talk back, but it's more of an affectionate teasing than an attempt at instigating an actual argument. Style almost smiles at Fadel after he says "And if I need to take a piss?" Fadel lets him know that he will be uncuffing him for that if need may be and Style lowers his gaze. He sees the complementary gifts and playfully starts teasing Fadel about using them. And unlike earlier, I think this time with that kind, warm smile Style is throwing Fadel, Style's comments about chains and whips and using the complimentary gifts weren't actually meant as genuine seduction. No, I think that was Style's way of saying Hey, I'm not upset with you for chaining me to the bed, I'm not holding that against you. But would you please just drop the act and stop pushing me away all the time?

But Fadel grabs his chin and tells no, he will not be dropping the act: "Didn’t you say you’re tired? I bet it’s because you run your mouth too much. Shut up and go to sleep." Style smiles at Fadel again towards the end of Fadel's new rejection, but that smile falls as soon as Fadel walks away.

And I don't think it's because Style is frustrated that he won't be getting laid that evening after all. I think Style is genuinely disappointed that Fadel continues to push him away like that, that Fadel keeps on being stubborn and refusing to communicate and engage with Style no matter how clear Style makes it that he's not holding a grudge about anything that happened that day, from the drugging to the kidnapping to the attempted murder to the blue-balling. And in addition I think Style is also a little hurt that Fadel won't just trust him at least a little bit and hurt that Fadel keeps acting so distant and stand-offish. Style just wants his boyfriend back.

No. 3: Deliver A Message

Now this scene is interesting because it left some people confused from what I've seen. Is Style being serious with his crying or not? Is he playing Fadel? Especially with the upbeat music that was put in the background at the beginning of the scene. There's another reason why I think this particular scene is confusing (and which was the reason why it confused me in the beginning as well), but that's a topic for a whole separate post. (Side note: While I was still working on this meta, I actually ended up getting an anon about this crying scene and sooo this "separate post" might actually follow at some point, even if I hadn't been planning on actually writing it when I was typing the previous sentence. Stay tuned.) I think multiple readings of this scene can co-exist, but for now I just wanna share what I personally think is happening in this scene.

First and foremost let me just say that I don't think Style is necessarily playing Fadel. If anything, he may be playing the drama up a bit like he tends to do, because that's simply just his personality. He has a tendency to be a bit more dramatic then necessary. But even if he is playing it up, I think it absolutely comes from a genuine place. After all, Style is only human and he has had quite an eventful day. Let's recap...

The day started with Style showing up at the hospital, already antsy because he couldn't reach Kant which was worrisome especially in the context of Fadel's threatening warning of "the two of us have business to finish with the two of you" from the night before. So Style shows up at the hospital, only to find out that his best friend was kidnapped by an actual assassin who is very capable of murdering Kant (Style doesn't know Bison as well as he knows Fadel, so Style has no way to tell whether Bison loves Kant enough to spare Kant's life the way Style can tell with Fadel). And immediately after that he gets ambushed and drugged, which absolutely is a traumatizing thing to go through and certainly must have had some effect on Style, if just subconsciously. Then, he finds himself tied up naked at a pool, which again, would generally be a traumatizing situation to find yourself in, especially when someone you know is very capable of taking other people's lives comes and continuously waves a gun into your face. And yes, by now Style knows Fadel pretty well and so he didn't feel too threatened, but Fadel was also really angry and Fadel also did punch Style in the gut that one time when Style was overly confident that Fadel liked him enough not to harm him. And I think, even if on a surface level Style didn't feel too threatened by Fadel (because Style has learned to read him) on a subconscious level the knowledge that Fadel certainly could and would shoot at any moment if he got too angry is still there. And right at the end of that scene there was a point where Style was genuinely scared for his life. Again, that's pretty traumatizing. And then he spent all day in a tight space with someone who is angry at him and keeps pointing a gun on him. And then he got chained again. And got pushed away by his boyfriend over and over again. Style is only human. And it makes complete sense for all the emotions that he repressed while he was playing it cool in order to get through these traumatizing events to come bubbling up to a surface level now at night where he finally gets to rest.

Lying there, in bed, at night, about to fall asleep, his brain is finally not busy with keeping him alive anymore. His brain finally has the time and the opportunity to process everything that has happened in the last 24ish hours. And as he is lying there in bed his brain is probably playing back everything that has happened and is coming up with a lot of "what if" scenarios. What if Fadel had actually killed him at the pool? What if Fadel will actually kill him in the future just like he actually did punch him in the storage room when Style was confident that he wouldn't? Style's death would come with consequences. We've already heard and seen a lot about Style's loving relationship with his dad and it's no wonder Style thinks of him now. Because Style's death would hurt his dad a lot. Style's dad already lost the mother of his son, now he might lose his only son too? The only family member left in his immediate family? If Style does get murdered, he doesn't wanna die without saying goodbye to his dad. And the only person who would be able to deliver that goodbye message is his own murderer.

I don't think Style meant to cry in the beginning. I do think he was fairly serious in the beginning, but I don't think he was planning on crying about it. It's only when he remembers his mother that it triggers the need to cry, only when he suddenly arrives at his own grief and his own trauma about his mother's death that the tears start flowing. And in my opinion those are real, genuine tears. We've seen Style fake-cry before, we know what his performative crying looks like. Style is a terrible fake-crier and we saw this in episode 4 when he showed up at the Rise Up group meeting for the first time and "cried" about his dog. The crying in the motel bed? Is very far from that.

And it's not just us, the viewers, who know what Style's fake crying looks like. Fadel was at that support group meeting too. Fadel also knows how Style fake-cries. And so when Style starts to cry, Fadel can tell the difference. And it has an effect on him. Except he doesn't really know how to deal with this situation, because Style crying hadn't been part of his plans of kidnapping and killing Style, hadn't been part of his plans to push Style as far away again as possible. And so he awkwardly asks "Are you crying?" (I think a different way to phrase this question would also be "You're crying?") And Style replies in honesty: "Duh. I know I talk all big, but even I am afraid of death."

In the last 24ish hours Style got to feel genuine fear for his life and Style doesn't want to die. He is not suicidal. And yes, he is cocky and confident, sometimes overly so and yes, despite all the threats to his life Style simply went about his day as if it's nothing, but as I said, Style still went through a few traumatizing situations in a very short period of time. Of course, it all had an affect on him. Of course part of him would be afraid. Style is human after all. He is human and he is feeling emotions. And he would really need some comfort right now.

Except all he gets is a "stop being dramatic" and an "I don't wanna listen". So Style turns away from Fadel and cries alone in the little corner of privacy he can get in the shared bed that he is currently chained to and can't leave. Style can neither see nor hear nor feel the hand Fadel is reaching out to him, is unaware of just how much Fadel is longing to give him that comfort Style so desperately needs before Fadel's mind wins over his heart and makes him pull back again.

No. 4: Road Trip Time

It's the next day, Style has rested and from what we can see Fadel has also stopped waving a gun into Style's face almost 24/7. Style is clearly having a blast driving through the country. However, the car is tried now and refuses to continue on. Turns out the radiator is broken. Fadel mocks Style for being a bad mechanic and instead of taking offense, Style comes back with sass and a Harry Potter reference and mimics shooting Fadel. Remember the "Style + guns" counter from last episode's meta? I know, I know, here in this case it's supposed to be a wand and not a gun, but especially with the sound effect the whole thing is quite reminiscent of a gun shot, so I'm counting it. Our "Style + guns" counter is now at 4.

There is no phone signal, so they have no way of calling for help. Style tells Fadel off for insisting on taking a short cut and Fadel brings up the police. Style responds: "What are you worrying about? I told you I wouldn’t run. What do I have to do for you to trust me?" Fun fact, his literal wording when he says "What are you worrying about" is actually "What are you afraid of?" or "What are you scared of?":

มึงกลัวอะไรอ่ะ [mueng - gluua - àrai - àh] you - fear, be scared of - what - [particle]

What I love about this is that Style doesn't let Fadel's verbal stabs dampen his good mood too much. He doesn't respond in anger and he's not really annoyed. In fact, when he tells Fadel that he's not running away, he even sounds a bit amused. And when he asks "What do I have to do for you to trust me?", it's not a verbal stab back at Fadel but it's a genuine question. Style honestly wants to know. Fadel tells him "I can no longer trust a single word that comes out of your mouth."

Style smiles and shakes his head in a mix of amusement (because of course Fadel would say that) and exasperation (because Style is getting quite tired of being back at square one and having to go through all the steps again). Style doesn't fight Fadel, though, and instead asks him what he wants to do. However, there is a bit of a bite to his voice, especially in the last sentence when he asks Fadel what he plans to do if now, wait for a car to pass by or what? He patiently waits for Fadel's reply. When Fadel tells Style to push the car, Style is obviously not very into that idea but instead of resisting by starting a fight he starts getting over-dramatic about potentially passing out, about the hot weather, about being hungry and so on. Look how poor I am, have some mercy on me. Fadel is unimpressed. He tells Style to stop whining and reminds him that he currently has just one good hand. Style yields, but not without sassing Fadel first: "I’ll just die of exhaustion before I ever meet your bullet." Fadel brushes past him to get into the driver's seat (I'm assuming to control the wheels of the car while Style is pushing?) and Style walks behind the car and starts pushing while they continue to bicker.

We don't know how long Style was pushing the car for, but it must have been a while because when Style asks for a break, the road is no longer made of asphalt like it was when the car broke down. Fadel doesn't talk back when Style wants to take a break, instead he wordlessly steps out of the car and lets him have it. On the way to the back of the car, Fadel pulls a paper bag and a water bottle out of his backpack and goes to lean against the trunk of the car while taking a sip. Style eyes the water bottle and Fadel notices. After a moment of hesitation, Fadel somewhat begrudgingly holds the water out to Style. Style doesn't immediately take it, but instead throws Fadel a look, checking if Fadel really is letting him have some water. Style only grabs the bottle after Fadel explicitly tells him to take it. Style obeys and immediately starts teasing Fadel: "Thought you’d let me die of thirst. Either a hitman like you still have his humanity, or you’re in love with me." Despite talking big about killing Style and shoving a gun into his face on multiple occasions, Fadel still cares about Style and his well-being and Style knows it. After the teasing words are out of Style's mouth, he attentively observes Fadel's reaction because he also knows Fadel would never admit to this out loud:

While Style is talking, Fadel turns around to grab some food out of the paper bag. When he turns back he makes a face at Style's words, then wordlessly leans back against the trunk again and takes a bite, ignoring Style completely. Style eyes the snack in Fadel's hands. Then he says: "You’re well prepared, huh? To think you packed snacks and drinks."

I personally think that Style wasn't just thirsty, but also hungry. He did do some physical work under the heat of the sun, after all. I think his words were an implicit prompt for Fadel to not just share his water, but also his food. But Fadel doesn't share, he just responds with "I am always well prepared. I have plans for everything". It's kinda funny he's saying this because it's not like Style was even given the chance to prepare for a trip in the first place. It's not like Style showed up at the hospital with a bag full of travel essentials in anticipation of getting kidnapped and going on an impromptu road trip.

Fadel continues with a stab at Style: "If it wasn’t for you and your friend, my brother and I would have had our long-awaited break already." Style almost rolls his eyes. He's so over this. What happened, happened and there's no way to change the past. All you can do is go forward from there. "Let it go. Shouldn’t you be looking forward to the future? Focus on the future. Let go of your grudge. What good would a grudge do—" Style doesn't get further than that because suddenly there is a bun in his mouth. And just in case the message isn't clear enough, Fadel also explicitly tells him to shut up. Style complains about Fadel's methods. "Couldn’t you have been more gentle?" This is actually funnier to me in Thai:

If you want to feed me, you can feed me gently. No need to be so forceful. มึงอยากป้อนมึงป้อนเบาๆ ได้ไม่ต้องแรงเลย [mueng - yàak - bpôn - mueng - bpôn - bao bao - dâai - mâi - dtông - raeng - loiie] you - want - feed - you - feed - gently - can - not - need - harsh - [particle]

The bun did not manage to shut Style up, on the contrary. Style just keeps talking. "I’m getting paranoid, though. We broke down in the middle of the woods. This is just like the beginning of a horror film. A murderer is gonna come after us in a minute." Fadel gently reminds him of his request to shut up: "The first to get murdered would be a yapper like you." Again, I wanna share my own translations of this bickering (Fadel's line specifically), because it amuses me how Fadel is more or less continuing Style's sentence but turns it against him:

S: A murderer will come and kill us any second now. อีกแป๊บนึงก็จะมีฆาตกรมาฆ่าพวกเรา [ìik bpáep nueng - gôh - jà mii - kâat-dtà-gon - maa - kâa - pûuak rao] in a moment - [sentence link] - will be - murderer - come - kill - us F: And will kill a yapper like you first. แล้วก็จะฆ่าคนพูดมากอย่างมึงเป็นคนแรก [láew gôh - jà - kâa - kon pûut mâak - yàang - mueng - bpen kon râek] and - will - kill - person who talks a lot - like - you - as the first person

I think by now everyone's made fun of Style for being afraid of a murderer when there is an actual murderer right by his side, but the thing is, it is quite interesting how fear is becoming a theme for Style this episode, something that @secriden goes into in this post. Something else she also points out is how Style not only worries about getting murdered himself, but also about Fadel getting murdered too:

[I]t's interesting how Style talks about being afraid of dying generally and specifically how harm could come to them from an external source. How the way his fear is orientated puts Fadel on the inside ("a murderer is gonna come after us"), on Style's side and someone Style wants to keep safe. And when Fadel makes the kind of snide joke about letting the hypothetical cannibals kill and cook Style, Style's solution still involves staying by Fadel's side. At no point does he ever stop referring to Fadel and him as a single unit, even after Fadel very explicitly frames Style as the only victim.

In this moment though, Style isn't actually afraid of a hypothetical murderer suddenly jumping out of the woods to kill them both. So when Fadel responds with one of his usual comments that show how much he "dislikes" Style, Style lets it go and instead continues a different fight: he doesn't wanna keep pushing the car. He did it to humor Fadel, but there really is no point in continuing to push a broken car through the middle of nowhere. Fadel refuses to leave his car. Style starts talking him into leaving it there for now and coming back for it. Fadel threatens Style once again: "If my car was stolen, not only would I kill you, I’d take a car from your garage." Style is very unimpressed by this threat. "Take it. Take them all. You own my life."

Fun fact, this is the literal translation of when he says the "own my life" part:

You already have control over my life. มึงก็คุมชีวิตกูอยู่แล้วนี่ [mueng - gôh - kum - chii-wít guu - yùu - láew - nîi] you - [sentence link] - (have) control - my life - [aux] - already - [interjection]

It's interesting, because being in control of something doesn't necessarily mean you own it. Style's life is still very much his own, but he's willing to give it all to Fadel: "Take my cars, my body, my heart. Take everything." And yes, he is mostly sassing Fadel with these words, but there is also a certain seriousness to it. Fadel can have especially Style's body and Style's heart. Fadel can have 100% of Style. Style has made that decision long ago and he's still set on it, despite or maybe even especially because of everything that has happened since. Style's body and Style's heart are entirely free for Fadel to take. It's a sincere offer and it's on Fadel to take it up. Fadel stares at Style in an attempt to figure him out. Then he goes to get his backpack, walks back over to Style and grabs the water bottle out of his hands and then starts walking down the path. Style follows as soon as he realizes that Fadel is listening to Style's suggestion of leaving the car there for now.

No. 5: Murder House

Again we don't really know how much time has passed but at some point Fadel and Style find a house. Style makes a joke about a cannibal family living inside and while I doubt he actually believed in the cannibal family, I do think he's a lot more anxious now than he was about the hypothetical murderer by the car. Fadel replies with a joke of his own to really underline his alleged disdain for Style: "Good. I’ll ask them to cook you. I’m getting hungry." Style doesn't think it's funny and says "Don’t say that. It’s scary." Fun fact, in Thai Style doesn't just imply that he's scared by calling the situation/the thought of a cannibal family scary but he explicitly says that he's scared:

I'm scared for real. กูกลัวจริงนะเว้ย [guu - gluua - jing - ná wóiie] I - be scared - true, (for) real - [particle]

His anxiety gets even more apparent when he suggests returning to the road. Fadel doesn't believe in Style's creative imaginations but does tell him that if a murderer actually shows up he'll shoot them. Then Fadel pulls out his gun just in case (and potentially also to make Style feel more protected) and starts walking towards the house. Style follows, not very reassured. We can tell that his anxiety has grown from the way how at the beginning of the scene Style and Fadel were walking side by side and Style was walking even slightly in front of Fadel but when they walk up to the house Style is now walking behind Fadel instead:

They make their way towards the front door and Fadel knocks and calls out to someone inside. There's no answer. Style is getting more anxious by the minute and urges Fadel to leave: "Hey, it’s not too late to turn back." Fadel ignores him and starts knocking and calling again. There is still no answer. Style hates it. "This is getting scary," he says and I think that this is the point where his growing anxiety turns into genuine fear. Fadel pulls at the door which actually opens up. "What are you doing?" Style asks and his voice sounds really stressed now. Fadel walks inside the house without hesitation. Style immediately follows, but scolds Fadel for trespassing. Style would rather be anywhere else right now than here. Fadel turns his head to Style and says "I don't care." Or rather he says:

You think I'm scared? แล้วมึงคิดว่ากูกลัวป่ะ [láew - mueng - kít - wâa - guu - gluua - bpà] and - you - think - that - I - (be) scared - ?

Style swallows. Fadel continues to call out for someone. Style squints at him. He wants to leave. Suddenly a baseball comes down the stairs. Style jumps and yells. Fadel's hand goes to his gun, ready to pull it any moment. A second later the baseball is followed by a guy who is being chased by another guy brandishing the bat to that baseball. The first guy goes to hide behind Style and with that Fadel and Style find themselves in the middle of a domestic argument. The baseball guy, Popcorn, yells at his partner for a bit and then moves to attack him with the bat. Despite Style's initial fear walking up to the house, instead of shaking the guy off and getting out of the way he reacts by acting as a human shield, putting his arms out in a conciliatory gesture and suggesting to talk it out over using violence. Somewhere in this series there is a point to be made about Style having a tendency to act like a mediator (when he's not actively picking the fight himself) and if I wasn't so busy with uni assignments and my meta series, that would certainly be a meta post I'd be looking into making.

It's only when Style starts speaking that it fully registers for Popcorn that there are currently random people standing in his house. He starts asking who they are and how they got into his house and Style stutters, completely overwhelmed by the situation and certainly not any less afraid. Before Style has managed to form a proper thought Popcorn accuses them of being his partner's side bits. This immediately has Style stressed again and he yells "no" over and over again. Popcorn isn't convinced and goes for another attack with the baseball bat. It's a bit unclear whether Popcorn had planned to attack only one of them or maybe all three of them but either way, the way Style was standing he definitely would have been the first in line to get hit. Fadel pulls his gun even before Popcorn has managed to take a swing at Style. Style stops yelling and stares at the gun in shock. Popcorn drops his bat on the spot and retreats back to the stairs. His partner comes out from his hiding spot behind Style to follow Popcorn. Together they attempt to scramble up the stairs. Style stands still, completely frozen in place, staring at the gun for a few seconds until he finally turns his head to the stairs to watch the odd pair get away from the gun.

I think there are multiple factors to Style's shock here: his anxiety had already started even before they'd entered the house and it only grew from there. Then, Popcorn and Jimmy's appearance hit them both out of nowhere and Style really got roped into it even more than Fadel did with Jimmy grabbing Style first to use him as a human shield and then Popcorn also almost assaulting Style with a baseball bat. I think part of Style freezing is the left-over shock from Jimmy and Popcorn's initial attacks. It all happens very quickly, after all. In fact, Fadel's gun is out before Style has even had the time to properly process the fact that he was about to die by baseball bat. And so I think part of Style staring at the gun is him reacting to Fadel's movement in general and then Style's brain using the sudden break in action to catch up with everything that was happening in the last couple of seconds. Wait, I'm being attacked with a baseball bat. Wait, there is a movement next to me. Wait, the baseball bat attack stopped. Wait, there is a gun. Wait, the attackers are gone. Wait, the gun was protecting me. Wait, what are these two weirdos doing, where are these two weirdos going.

Style's eyes widen a bit as he turns his head to watch Popcorn and Jimmy scramble up the stairs and he doesn't look that shocked anymore or even terrified. He squints his eyes a little and it looks like he's he's in thought, like he's trying to figure something out.

And I think there are a number of things he's trying to figure out. Like, what the fuck to make of Jimmy and Popcorn. Who the fuck those weirdos are, where the fuck they came from, and where the fuck they are going again. Why the fuck they attacked Fadel and Style, but especially Style like this. In the above gif I think Style's brain has finally finished processing what has just happened, is finally all caught up and I think Style actually isn't all that afraid of the gun in this moment because he does realize that the gun did just save him (them) from dying by baseball bat a moment ago. And Fadel did say earlier that he would shoot anyone trying to murder Style (them).

And another thing that I think Style is trying to figure out is whether Jimmy and Popcorn's lives are in danger now with Fadel's gun on them. When Style's eyes widen it's almost as if he's thinking Wait, I just nearly died and Fadel protected me from them and when he squints his eyes it's like Who are these people? Is Fadel actually gonna shoot them now? Do I have to go from worrying about being killed by them to worrying about them being killed?

No. 6: Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Fadel doesn't shoot them. Instead, he has Style tie them to the piano. I do think it's kinda funny how Fadel tells Style "If you’re done, go look for what you need. Hurry up" and Style just nods and sits down on the sofa instead. So much for hurrying up.

Popcorn starts lamenting his pain dramatically. Neither Style nor Fadel are in the mood to listen to a domestic quarrel. Popcorn goes on and on about how Jimmy cheated on him and Jimmy says "They all meant nothing to me". In Thai he actually says:

They were just people I was chatting with. มันก็แค่คนคุย [man - gôh - kâe - kon kui] he/she/they - just - people one chats with

I asked my friend about คนคุย [kon kui] and he explained it to me as "someone you talk to/flirt with (but something serious is not (yet) happening)". So the original is much more vague about how deep Jimmy's betrayal really runs. There's a chance that Jimmy actually did cheat on Popcorn, but there's also a chance that Jimmy was just talking to them without the intent of having a thing with them and Popcorn just took it the wrong way and made a big deal out of it. Personally, my guess is Jimmy did do something for Popcorn to have a legit reason to be hurt, because later Jimmy does talk about trying his best and having been lost, but I also think he might not be as much of a (serial?) cheater as Popcorn is making him out to be in his anger.

Jimmy assures Popcorn that he is serious with Popcorn, but Popcorn doesn't believe him and cries "You were never serious with me! You made me fall for you and then betrayed me". Don't mind me putting the Thai wording here. It will be relevant later (and also don't worry about the orange bit for now, this will also be explained later).

You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. มึงอ่ะมาหลอกให้กูรักกูหลง มึงก็ทำยังเงี้ย [mueng - àh - maa - lòhk - hâi - guu - rák - guu - lŏng • mueng - gôh - tam - yang-ngíia] you - [particle] - come - trick, deceive - that - I - love - I - be crazy about • you - [sentence link] - do - like this

And this is the moment when Fadel throws Style a look. Style turns his head to look at Fadel as well. Message received.

Jimmy begs for Popcorn's forgiveness but Popcorn is still too upset and in his anger cries out: "The likes of you don’t deserve second chances. The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!" I'm gonna share a more literal translation again:

There are no chances for bad people. โอกาส​มันไม่ได้​มีไว้สำหรับ​คนเลว [oh-gàat - man - mâi dâai - mii - wái - săm-ràp - kon leow] chance - it - not - have - keep - for - bad people People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die! คนที่หลอกให้คนอื่นรัก สมควรให้ตายไปให้หมด [kon - tîi - lòhk - hâi - kon èun - rák • sŏm-kuuan - hâi - dtaai bpai hâi mòt] people - that - trick - that - others - love • deserve - that - die - all

It's no wonder that this is the thing that makes Fadel, who knows a thing or two about being tricked into loving someone, get up and offer a free kill. Style immediately jumps to his feet and reaches out an arm to Fadel in order to pacify him and to stop him from killing Jimmy. Because Style knows full well that Fadel is perfectly capable of doing so without batting and eye. And again we see Style take on the role of a mediator. Popcorn backs down and admits he was just being dramatic and doesn't actually want his partner to die. But for Fadel it's personal: "But he lied to you." Or Thai he says:

But he deceived you. แต่มันหลอกคุณนะ [dtàe - man - lòhk - kun - ná] but - he - deceive, trick - you - [particle]

Fadel points out the tricking part specifically and again we as well as Style get a hint about what exactly Fadel has been upset about and it ain't the snitching to the police. We aren't shown Style's reaction here but I think it's safe to assume he heard Fadel's words loud and clear considering he is standing right next to Fadel. Popcorn tries to calm Fadel down again by explaining they argue all the time and repeating that he doesn't actually want his partner to die. Fadel looks at them, his expression serious, his gun still pointed. Style observes Fadel carefully, watching his every move:

I think Style is very much afraid in this moment. But I don't think he's afraid of Fadel, I think he's afraid for him. And afraid for the people in front of them. After all, Style doesn't want others to be harmed. We see this over and over again in the way he threw himself into the fight at the host club before he knew Fadel was perfectly capable of fighting for himself, we see this in the way Style grabbed the gun at the bowling alley and pointed it at the shooter to keep him from doing any more harm than he had already caused and we see it now in the way Style immediately jumps to his feet, arm stretched out towards Fadel to try his best to interfere at any second if need may be. Style is afraid for Jimmy and Popcorn, because he knows full well their lives are in actual danger. And Style is afraid for Fadel, because he also knows how much pain this assassin life has caused him and he wants Fadel to quit for his (Fadel's, that is) own well-being. And Fadel's well being is something that is deeply important to Style. Style implicitly told Fadel to quit killing in episode 5 already and later this episode he will explicitly tell Fadel to quit killing again. And every shot that Fadel takes is a step in the wrong direction.

And another aspect that comes to play here is that Style is afraid of dying. This episode has been dealing with Style's very real fear and this fear has taken form in different ways: We started with Style being afraid of his own death by Fadel's hand (last episode for a moment at the pool, this episode when he was crying in the motel bed), then we saw him being afraid of his own death by someone else's hand (the fictional murderer that his mind kept imaging) and now we see him afraid of someone else's death. And yes, the first two were about Style's own death, so why would he be afraid dying now when this situation is about someone else's death, not his own? The thing is, though... Is it really? Is this really about someone else's death? Because the person Fadel is about to kill is Style's mirror. Who is to say that after Fadel has taken care of Style's mirror his emotions won't get the better of him and he'll turn around and shoot the real Style in his hurt, too, while he's at it? So Style doesn't take his eyes off from Fadel, because his own life is still at stake too and how Fadel acts now will give Style a hint about how determined Fadel still is to kill him.

But then Jimmy suddenly changes course. He is willing to accept death if it means Popcorn will be safe. Style is still standing there with his arm halfway up, still tense, still ready to jump into action if Fadel pulls the trigger while Jimmy goes into a plea for Popcorn's life. Jimmy ends it by announcing that he loves Popcorn, which is yet another sore point for Fadel. "If you love him, why did you fool him?" Fun fact, Fadel is so pissed that he actually uses rude pronouns with Jimmy:

ถ้ามึงรักเขามึงจะหลอกเขาทำไม [tâa - mueng - rák - kăo - meung - jà - lòhk - kăo - tam-mai] if - you - love - him - you - will - trick, deceive - him - why

Also, this time we do get to see Style's reaction to Fadel's words:

I think Style partly throws Fadel that look because he is still afraid that Fadel is so angry that he might actually kill Jimmy and is ready to interfere at any time and part of that look is Style taking in and piecing together what exactly Fadel is and has been upset about. During this entire conversation it's always been the topic of loving and tricking and tricking into loving that Fadel's had the strongest emotional response to. That's what Fadel is upset about.

Jimmy doesn't reply to Fadel, doesn't explain himself. Instead he turns to Popcorn and goes into a heartfelt apology. The two of them bicker for a bit. Style's has lowered his arm even more now, but it's still in perfect position to make a grab at Fadel any second if need may be. He checks on Fadel again when Jimmy asks Popcorn to let Fadel shoot him if Popcorn doesn't believe that Jimmy's love is true. The husbands-to-be bicker some more and then Jimmy dramatically offers himself up as a sacrifice again, orders Fadel to shoot him. Fadel clenches his jaw. He knows he can't. He looks over at Style. Style is staring at Fadel intently, observing him, watching him carefully.

And again, I think this stare is about both, checking whether Fadel is still gonna go in for the kill and also Style trying to read Fadel, trying to figure out where Fadel is at emotionally when it comes to his own relationship with Style. Style is actively in the process of piecing together what exactly he's done to make Fadel hurt this much and to make Fadel want to kill him. And I think at this point here, Style is no longer as terrified of a potential murder happening right in front of his eyes the way he was when Fadel had initially pulled the gun on Jimmy.

Speaking of Style's fear, a couple of days ago I saw a post in the tags where someone was asking why Fadel pulling a gun on him was hot to Style but suddenly when Fadel is pulling the gun on other people it's an issue and since this meta series is THE Style manifesto I figure I should maybe write a paragraph about that too. When Style is at the other end of the gun it's hot, because Style is 99% sure Fadel won't actually kill him, won't kill him specifically. But when Fadel is pointing the gun at other people, Style can't be so sure. After all, this is Fadel's profession, this is what he specializes in. Fadel does this on the regular and Style is very well aware of it. The thing is, Style doesn't actually want others to be harmed. We see this over and over again when Style goes and helps people, when Style acts like a mediator in situations. Only last episode Style told Kant that love can turn a bad guy good and I think that's ultimately what he wants for Fadel. For Fadel to quit the job, to stop killing people, to turn "good" for Style and also for himself (putting "good" in quotation marks, because to Style, Fadel is a good person already as he reveals later in the bathtub). Style has already suggested Fadel quits the job even back in episode 5 when Fadel opened up about his parents' murder and about not wanting a relationship in order not to cause trouble to anyone. Style is cool with Fadel pulling a gun on him if no harm is done, but he is not cool with Fadel pulling a gun on others if harm could be done. And at the end of the day Style is also not cool with Fadel pulling a gun on him either, if Style's own life is in actual danger from that. We saw as much by the pool and we saw it again this episode when Fadel was about to kill Style's mirror.

Another thing I find truly fascinating about this scene is how Popcorn and Jimmy are clear parallels to Fadel and Style, but not in the way one might expect. We have Popcorn, the loud and overdramatic one and then we have Jimmy, the calm and collected one. We have Style, the loud and overdramatic one and then we have Fadel, the calm and collected one. You'd think Popcorn would be a parallel for Style and Jimmy would be a parallel for Fadel, but psyche! The calm and collected Fadel relates to the loud and overdramatic Popcorn's problem while the loud and overdramatic Style relates to the calm and collected Jimmy's problems. I think there are various interpretations possible as to why that is. One thing I'd like to think is that Popcorn's loud whirlwind emotions are a representation of how Fadel is quietly feeling inside but would never ever let out in any way, because his walls are that far up. And then we have Jimmy, who did something wrong, but is so serious and sincere in his love for Popcorn, in his longing for Popcorn's forgiveness and in his desire to be with Popcorn, to get married to Popcorn. And as loud and overdramatic Style can sometimes be, Style is completely serious about his love for Fadel and his decision to be with him no matter what. It's not a joke to Style. And Style, too, is longing for that forgiveness, is longing to go back to being happy and in love, is longing to get 100% of Fadel's trust. Fadel has told him before that Style had 80% of his trust, but with the betrayal those 80% have taken a significant dip down. But Style is still serious about wanting those 100% and so he will work his way back up again.

Side note: Another thing I was thinking about was how Jimmy was so willing to take the bullet if it meant keeping Popcorn safe and it just has me wonder if Style will be taking a bullet to keep Fadel safe.

No. 7: Do You Hear the Wedding Bells

Instead of going for a kill, Fadel lets Popcorn and Jimmy have their wedding. Style officiates while Fadel hides in a corner, watching everything from a distance. Style, believer in the power of love, is very happy for Jimmy and Popcorn. He watches with joy as they exchange rings and what I love about this is how Style's joy has such a calm, grounded energy to it. Style prompts the happy couple to kiss and I am absolutely convinced that his laughter when Popcorn jumps Jimmy and Jimmy carries him towards the wall is all Dunk, not Style. Then Style turns his head and looks at Fadel. He is presented with an image of Fadel quietly laughing at this couple's joy and passion and happiness. Fadel then turns his head towards Style as well, but immediately looks away when he meets Style's eyes and his laughter fades.

Remember how in last episode's meta I said:

And it's just veeeery interesting that Style asks Fadel to marry him for the second episode in a row. If it happens again next episode, I'm calling it. But for now, let's wait and see 👀

Well... We didn't get a FadelStyle marriage proposal, but Style's mirror saying "You and I are getting married" to Fadel's mirror? And then the Style and Fadel mirrors actually getting married? With Style officiating the wedding? That's three episodes in a row with a wedding reference in connection to Fadel and Style. Episode 6 with the untranslatable pun, episode 7 with Style's proposal prank, now episode 8 with an actual wedding. Three is a pattern, no? Style may not have uttered the words "Will you marry me" to Fadel this episode, but I'm calling it anyway. These two are so getting married by the end of the series, aren't they...

(Also, sorry for writing so few words about this scene. I don't have words, I only have Big Emotions.)

No. 8: Dinners and Dancing

It's night time now and the four of them are having a nice wedding dinner. Style makes friendly conversation as usual, while Fadel sits there and barely socializes. Jimmy brags about his husband's cooking skills, and Style immediately responds with a brag of his own because his own boyfriend is just as good as cooking. And this time around I think the boyfriend drop is a lot more deliberate than it was at the beginning of the episode, because this time around he actually emphasizes it a little. The word "faen" is the word he stresses the most in the sentence. Then he turns to Fadel and teasingly compliments him: "His burgers are to die for." In Thai, what he says word for word is "make very delicious burgers":

ทำเบอร์เกอร์อร่อยมาก [tam - ber-gêr - à-ròi - mâak] make - burger - delicious - very

Note how there is no pronoun in this sentence. That means, the sentence can be taken either as "He makes very delicious burgers" because Style was just talking to Jimmy and this sentence is still addressed to Jimmy or the sentence could be taken as "You make very delicious burgers" from the way Style is saying this sentence directly to Fadel's face. You hear that? That's you. You're my faen that makes delicious burgers. I love you. Fadel scrunches his eyebrows, skeptical and confused. Style smiles brightly, grabs a spoonful of food and offers to feed it to Fadel. Unlike Fadel earlier that day, Style actually does feed him gently. In fact, he doesn't force the food nor the caring gesture onto Fadel. He holds out the spoon and once again waits for Fadel to go along of his own free will which Fadel awkwardly does after a moment of hesitation. Then, Style goes back to making friendly conversation and we get a bit of backstory about how Popcorn and Jimmy used to live in the city as salarymen and then came to live on a farm because Jimmy loves nature. Style finds in romantic that Popcorn left his good life for a more difficult farm life. Fadel still holds a grudge and asks Jimmy why he cheated when Popcorn had done all of that for him. Jimmy says it's only human to get lost sometimes and that he's come back home in the end. This has Fadel even more pissed. He bangs his fist onto the table so forcefully that it jumpscares Style right next to him. "Only because you take him for granted," Fadel snarls. Popcorn awkwardly says he's already forgiven Jimmy and Style puts his hand on Fadel's hand to calm him down. Fadel looks at Style and Style gives him a little bit of a nod, as if to say Hey, it's okay. You can let it go. You don't need to settle this argument for them. Fadel leans back into his chair, resigned.

Jimmy changes the topic and asks where Fadel and Style are going and Style immediately has a believable answer ready. "We’re heading south. Kinda hoped it was going to be a romantic road trip date." And let me just share a more literal translation about the road trip, because he shamelessly and also very deliberately this time throws around the word boyfriend again:

I wanted to go on a road trip with my boyfriend. พอดีตั้งใจจะมาขับรถเล่นกับแฟนนะครับ [poh dii - dtâng-jai - jà - maa - kàp rót lên - gàp - faen - ná - kráp] because - intend to - will - come - drive for fun - with - boyfriend - [particle] - [particle]

When Style says the word boyfriend, he turns his head and pointedly says "faen" directly into Fadel's face. Because he still considers Fadel his boyfriend, whether Fadel likes it or not. After all, they've never officially broken up. And no, multiple death threats that have involved an actual a gun do not count as a break-up as far as Style is concerned. Not if he still has any say in it. Because their relationship is that serious to him. Because from the moment they started dating, their relationship was never fake to him. Fadel squints his eyes. Popcorn then asks how they met and Style tells them: "I was kinda dared into taking him out, but then I actually fell for him." And again, just a little correction on the whole "I was dared to" part:

It started with me deceitfully flirting with him. มันเริ่มจากผมไปหลอกจีบเขาครับ [man - rêrm - jàak - pŏm - bpai - lòhk - jìip - kăo - kráp] it - start - from - I - go - deceive, trick - flirt - him - [particle]

Nowhere in the way Style phrased it does it say who thought of the idea of the fake flirting. Nowhere does it say whether someone else made him do it or whether it was Style's own idea. Style isn't putting the blame on someone else and in a way is actually even kinda making himself look bad here since it could be taken as Style having come up with the scheme by himself. Popcorn and Jimmy don't know that there are two other guys involved in this story. Popcorn says "Such is love, isn’t it?" and Style turns to look at Fadel for a moment who meets his eyes. Popcorn then continues with "It can start from deceit, but it zigzags its way into something beautiful at the end." Style turns to Fadel again, throwing him a very pointed look. Something beautiful, huh? Did you hear that? Fadel pointedly ignores Style and his pointed look. The newlywed husbands discuss the natural process of a relationship – bickering, fighting, boning. This greatly amuses Style and he looks at Fadel again. In fact, he stares at Fadel for several seconds until Fadel finally properly looks at him. And that's when Style raises an eyebrow at him. Well?

And it's fun, because the scene started out with Fadel doing a thing with his eyebrows and it ends with Style doing a thing with his eyebrows, almost like an answer.

Style's energy in this scene is very boyfriend-like. Fadel took a step back and withdrew at the presence of these two other people, and now that Style doesn't have to fend off Fadel constant stream of personal digs at him anymore, Style comfortably slips back into that boyfriend role. And it's not just that he's comfortable in this role, no, he is proud to be Fadel's boyfriend and proud to have Fadel as his boyfriend. Style brags about Fadel and his cooking skills and calls him his boyfriend to anyone who will listen. Style keeps Fadel in check when Fadel gets hotheaded and is absolutely up for going through the natural process of bickering-fighting-boning if Fadel is up for it as well. And most importantly, Style is simply just happy to be around him, happy to spend time with him. Style is proud of him and he is happy with him and he wants Fadel by his side. He means that choice from the bottom of his heart and so he will act accordingly. Especially now that he is finally starting to understand why exactly Fadel is hurting.

No. 9: Big Small Matters

The time for dinner is over and the time for dancing has started. Fadel and Style sit on the couch, they're watching the happy couple and especially Style is delighted at their happiness himself. After a while, Style turns to Fadel and says "Cute couple, aren’t they? Just like us". This is the third time this evening, a rather short time frame, that Style has made a reference to them being in a relationship (referring to Fadel as his "boyfriend" twice and now calling them a "couple"). And yes, he did blatantly refer to Fadel as his boyfriend when they were talking to the aunty at the motel too, but I think this time around Style is very deliberately and consciously doing so given his observations of Fadel earlier that day. They're a cute couple. Style means it. No joke. No trick.

Fadel is quiet for a moment, then says "We're not a couple". Definitely by sheer coincidence the song that Jimmy put on just happens to be about forgiveness and just happens to play the lyrics Just overlook what is trivial right before Fadel's reply. Style asks Fadel if he wasn't listening to the lyrics and quotes them back at him. Fadel is not amused: "You think what you did to me was 'trivial'?"

Now, the phrase that the song uses to say "trivial" is เล็กๆ น้อยๆ [lék lék nói nói] which word for word makes something like "small small little little". I asked my Thai language buddy if this word was like the word "Kleinigkeit" in German and he confirmed. There is no perfect English equivalent for the word "Kleinigkeit" but it basically means something like "small matter" or "little thing". Depending on the situation there could be other meanings that go along with it. For this context right here "no big deal" could even work in English. Now let me share what Fadel actually said:

You think that you deceiving me is no big deal? (lit. "is a small matter?" / "is small?") มึงคิดว่าเรื่องที่มึงมาหลอกกูเนี่ยมันเล็กๆ น้อยๆหรอ [mueng - kít wâa - rêuuang - tîi - mueng - maa - lòhk - guu - nîia - man - lék lék nói nói - rŏr] you - think that - thing, matter - that - you - come - deceive, trick - me - [particle] - it - small (matter), little (thing) - ?

Fadel uses the word หลอก [lòhk] here, which means "to trick" or "to deceive". That means, he doesn't just vaguely say "what you did to me" but he explicitly tells Style that the thing that has been bothering him is Style deceiving him, Style tricking him. By now you may have noticed a pattern to the orange color: The word หลอก [lòhk] comes up a lot this episode. I've bolded and marked this word orange all throughout this post so you can see just how many times and in which contexts this word is used. Style uses it during the dinner when he says "I was kinda dared into taking him out" (more literally: "It started with me deceitfully flirting with him"), Popcorn uses this word when he cries "The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!" (more literally: "People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die!") and Fadel uses the word when he says "But he lied to you. (more literally: "But he deceived you.") after Popcorn says he doesn't actually want Jimmy to be killed for real. And now Fadel uses it again to call Style out: "You think what you did to me was 'trivial'?" (more literally: "You think that you deceiving me is no big deal?").

Fadel is mad that Style tricked him, that Style deceived him. This much was already obvious from Fadel's emotional reactions to Popcorn and Jimmy's dispute, but now Style has explicit confirmation. This is where he needs to start working at if he wants to earn Fadel's forgiveness.

The newly-wed husbands walk over and invite them to dance, too. Style is up for it, but Fadel really doesn't want to. Style talks him into it and pulls him up. Reluctantly, Fadel gives in to Style just like he always does.

They dance a little, but at some point Style turns to Fadel, puts his hand on his shoulder, smiles, and tells him: "I know what I did wasn’t 'trivial.' But I’m ready to do anything to make you forgive me." Now for that first sentence you might think that in the Thai line Style repeats Fadel's words from earlier ("You think that you deceiving me is no big deal?") where Fadel used the word หลอก [lòhk] and you might think that Style would use it now, too. But actually, he does keep things more vague in the original itself as well:

I know that what I did was a big deal. (lit. "was no small matter" / "isn't a little thing") กูรู้นะเว้ยว่าเรื่องที่กูทำอ่ะ ไม่ใช่เรื่องเล็กๆ น้อยๆ [guu - rúu - ná wóiie - wâa - rêuuang - tîi - guu - tam - à • mâi châi - rêuuang - lék lék nói nói] I - know - [particle] - that - thing, matter - that - I - do - [particle] • not - thing, matter - small (matter), little (thing)

Maybe Style is referring not only to the fact that he tricked Fadel into loving him but also to how Fadel feels "cheated on" because he did end up falling for Style's (initially) insincere flirting, was head over heels in love with him only to find out Style wasn't his but was "the police's" and that the love wasn't real, was just a trick.

Or maybe there is something we don't yet know about? (Like, there is still the mysterious Boonterm mention from episode 3? Or, something that had COMPLETELY slipped my mind when I was writing my ep7 meta and so ended up writing something from a completely wrong perspective: Style has seen Keen before when he eavesdropped on Fadel and Keen's conversation and so in ep7 in the men's room it could also be taken as Style stopping Fadel from discovering Keen on purpose, which brings up the question... what's up with that????) Or maybe he just keeps it vague so that he can say it at a later point explicitly.

Anyway, so Style firmly tells Fadel that he knows he was in the wrong and that he's ready to do anything to earn Fadel's forgiveness and then pulls him into a hug while they continue to dance. This hug doesn't last very long, though, because next thing Fadel and Style know is that they're being attacked by Jimmy and Popcorn. Luckily, Style sees them in time and shouts Fadel's name in shock and to warn him. They both tumble down and Fadel has his gun out before they've even hit the couch. Fadel shoots into the air and while by now Style is very familiar with the image of Fadel pointing guns, this is the first time he's witnessed Fadel actually fire a shot (from a real gun, that is. Not a BB gun). A shot, that protected not only Fadel himself, but also Style. And while Style does still look at the gun for a moment again, he is nowhere near as frozen or worried as he was when Fadel pulled the gun on Popcorn and Jimmy the few instances earlier this episode.

For a second time that day, Fadel and Style tie up Popcorn and Jimmy. Style makes a comment about how he was off about the serial killer part but they were nearly killed by someone after all. Style's fear and anxiety from the day has proven to be justified. Fadel nags that Style trusts people to easily and that he's only interested in other people's love lives. Style doesn't see a problem with that: "I’m a hopeless romantic. Can’t help it that love stories touch me." Or in Thai:

I'm a romantic person. กูมันเป็นคนโรแมนติก [guu - man - bpen - kon roh-maen-dtìk] I - [marker] - be - romantic person I'm easily tricked by touching things. โดนหลอกด้วยอะไรซึ้งๆง่าย [dohn lòhk - dûuay - à-rai - séung séung - ngâai] be tricked, deceived - by, through - something - touching - easy

I just want to point out that Style uses the word หลอก [lòhk] here. Style gets tricked by romantic, touching things the same way as, you know, someone else in this room feels like he got tricked by romantic, touching things. It's like Style is saying What? Can you blame me? I, too, get tricked by love.

Fadel moves to remove the arm sling and Style goes to help him. Fadel lets him, doesn't block him. And I'm sure it was absolutely necessary for Style to put his arm around Fadel's shoulder like that for easier opening of the buckle. Duh. Style smiles a little as he slides off the arm sling. Fadel makes his way up the stairs. Style first looks at their tied up victims, then watches Fadel walk upstairs. There are certainly things on Style's mind. He'll be voicing them in the bathtub in a bit.

No. 10: Fadel in a Bath Fadel in a Bath Na Na Na Na Na Na Fadel in a Bath

Style finds Fadel in the bathtub and wants to join in. Fadel is reluctant at first, but is also not in the mood to argue with Style and so Style starts getting undressed. Now, usually I'd just skip past this part of Style getting naked and hopping into the tub because it's not a relevant process. However, during this process he does something very interesting: When he lays down his clothes he touches the gun, as if to make a grab for it before he goes and covers it with clothes.

I'm gonna be honest, I really have no idea what to make of this moment. As to why Style covers it, it could probably be because he wants it out of sight, out of the way, wants it gone. Style has made it very clear on multiple occasions that he doesn't want Fadel to be killing people and he will also be telling Fadel exactly that in just another minute as well. Away with the gun.

But if that really is the case, then I still don't understand why Style would touch the gun in the first place. If he wanted to hide it, he could have dropped his shirt down on it without bending down and touching it. But Style does go through the effort and the way he touches it almost looks like he is about to pick it up. The "Style + guns" counter goes up to 5.

Style is also very deliberate about it. He has his eyes glued to Fadel, watching him carefully through the entire process. That has me wonder if Style is maybe testing Fadel. Is he testing Fadel's trust, maybe? Because Fadel did say that the words out of Style's mouth are no longer trustworthy, but what about Style's actions? Are those still trustworthy? Technically Style is also still Fadel's kidnapping victim, so what would the kidnapper do if the victim goes for the weapon the kidnapper has been using to keep his victim in check? But Fadel's reaction is just a raised eyebrow and a bit of an eyebrow scrunch like What exactly is it that you're doing? It's a clear message, but at the same time Fadel doesn't even move a single muscle that indicates he is about to do something to get the weapon away from Style.

Fadel watches Style closely, but doesn't interfere. There is a certain amount of trust involved here, because Style could have easily made a quick grab for it and pulled the gun on Fadel for once.

I actually asked @secriden about her opinion on this because I didn't quite know what to make of it and she came back with an interesting perspective I also want to share:

Oh, I think the purpose of that was to show that Style is really choosing to be with Fadel. In that scenario Style literally has all the advantage— Fadel is naked in a bathtub and he's hampered by a broken arm and literally being in a slippery situation. Like if Style wanted to just take the gun and shoot Fadel there was little Fadel could've done at that point. But Style touches the gun and makes deliberate eye contact and then covers it with his clothes like he's saying "See? Even when you give me the chance to seize control what matters to me is another chance to fix our relationship." He's basically proving his own words when he said "I'll do anything to make it up to you." This includes letting a chance go literally take back his LIFE because the gun still symbolises a threat to Style's life (even if we know Fadel isn't going to go through with it).

After covering the gun with his clothes, Style gets into the tub and the first thing out of his mouth is: "I’m glad you didn’t kill them." And we know this to be true, because we saw how afraid and how tense Style was earlier when the gun was involved. Fadel reminds him that he only kills bad people and even if he disapproves of Jimmy's cheating, at the end of the day it's none of his business anyway. Style states "You’re pretty decent at your core, you know?" and I sigh in exasperation again, because it's not that Fadel is just "pretty decent", no, Fadel is a good person. And buckle up, because there are quite a few language notes to follow over the course of this scene.

Really, you're a good person at your core. จริงๆสันดานมึงเป็นคนดีนะเว้ย [jing jing - săn-daan - mueng - bpen - kon dii - ná wóiie] really, honestly - nature, core - you - be - good person - [particle]

Having made this assessment, Style wants to know how come Fadel is a hitman then and Fadel says he gets hired, there's nothing more to it. Style says it's not true that Fadel is doing it just for the money. Fadel comes back with a challenge: "Why not? You don’t know anything about me." In Thai he actually phrases it like a question which I like because it makes the challenge a bit more direct and Fadel's words sassier:

You know me well? มึงรู้จักกูดีเหรอ [mueng - rúu-jàk - guu - dii - rĕr] you - know - me - well - ?

(German speakers: the mood of this sentence is actually more like "Kennst du mich denn gut?", not just "Kennst du mich gut?")

So Fadel throws Style a sassy question, but Style has an answer, and what an answer it is:

I may not know your past but I know your present well. กูอาจจะไม่รู้จักอาดีตมึงแต่กูรู้จักปัจจุบันมึงดีนะเว้ย [guu - àat-jà - mâi - rúu-jàk - àdiit mueng - dtàe - guu - rùu-jàk - bpàt-jù-ban mueng - dii - ná wóiie] I - may, might - not - know - your past - but - I - know - your present - well - [Particle] Official subs: "I might not know who you were in the past, but I know who you are now."

It's not just that Style didn't know who Fadel was as a person in the past, but also Style was neither present in Fadel's past nor did Fadel share much about his past apart from the fact that his parents were shot. Style may not have been there for Fadel's past, but Style is very much there for Fadel's present, he's lived Fadel's present by his side for a while now and has gotten to know Fadel's life and Fadel himself really well. And Style is here for Fadel's present despite all things that should make him want to leave. Style is here for Fadel's present despite all the things he knows or maybe even because of all the things he knows. He knows Fadel is a killer, but he also knows Fadel is a good person. Being here for Fadel's present, Style's gotten to know many different side's of Fadel that make him want to stay in Fadel's present. Style smiles at him. Fadel can't run away from the mortifying ordeal of being known forever. It's too late. Style already knows him significantly, whether Fadel wants to acknowledge it or not.

Fadel looks away from him and when he looks back at Style, Style brings back the topic of Fadel only killing bad people and asks how Fadel decides. Fadel claims he decides based on his own experiences. Style tells him:

You're not a court passing sentences on other people's lives. มึงไม่ใช่ศาลมาพิพากษาชีวิต��นอื่น​นะเว้ย [mueng - mâi châi - săan - maa - pí-pâak-săa - chii-wít - kon èun - ná wóiie] you - not - court - come - judge - life - others - [particle] Official subs: It’s not your job to judge that kind of thing, you know? Just quit doing it. เลิกทำไปเหอะ [lêrk - tam - bpai - hùh] quit, stop - do - [particle] - [particle] Official subs: Why don’t you just quit? The more you keep doing this, the more your life will never be at peace. ยิ่งมึงทำแบบนี้ ชีวิดมึงยิ่งไม่จบไม่สิ้น [yîng - mueng - tam - bàep níi • chii-wít meung - yîng - mâi - jòp - mâi - sîn] the more - you - do - like this • your life - the more - not - end - not - end Official subs: If you keep going, it will never be over.

You may have noticed that in the interlinear translation of the last sentence it says "not end not end" which doesn't make a lot of sense, of course. Style actually uses two different words for "end" here. I asked my friend about it who explained that "not end" as in ไม่จบ [mâi jòb] refers to something external (the killings) while "not end" as in ไม่สิ้น [mâi sîn] refers to something internal (Fadel finding inner peace). The more Fadel keeps killing, the more he'll be stuck in this life and the more he won't be able to rest.

Fadel doesn't want to be lectured, but Style isn't actually saying all this to lecture Fadel. It's a well-meant warning because Style cares about Fadel and his well-being:

I just think there's probably no one who will warn you and mean well for you as much as I do. กูอ่ะแค่คิดว่าคงไม่มีใครเตือน​และหวังดีกับมึงเท่ากูละ [guu - àh - kâe - kít - wâa - kong- mâi mii krai - dteuuan - láe - wăng dii gàp - mueng - tâo - guu - lá] I - [particle] - just - think - that - maybe - there is no one - warn - and - mean well for - you - like - I - [particle] Official subs: I just think there’s no one out there who wants the best for you more than I do.

Fadel just stares at him and Style smiles back. He means it. After a moment, he puts his feet on Fadel and targets the nipple. First of all, it's time to be a little shit again and try to annoy his way back into Fadel's life and second of all, maybe I think he hasn't given up hope of getting some yet, even if Fadel is still back to being grumpy. Also, it's my personal headcanon that Style put his feet on Fadel for the same reason Dunk did: the tub is simply just too small for these two grown men.

Fadel reminds him that just because he lets Style mess with him it doesn't mean he won't kill Style. Style tilts his head. That's death threat number what? And yet, Style is still here and still able to mess with Fadel. "Go ahead. Blow my head off whenever you want." Style is here, ready to accept his fate. "I’m a bad person for making you fall for me, head over heels, and then betraying you. I deserve to die." And here is where the exact wording is important again. Literally he says: "I'm bad. I tricked you into loving me, I tricked you into being crazy about me, and then I betrayed you. I deserve to die."

Sorry in advance, but the following will be chaos. There is only so much formatting I can do in a tumblr post (I wish I could add a table!). The arrows indicate the literal translation. The colors will make sense a paragraph down.

→ I'm bad. กูอ่ะมันเลว [guu - àh - man - leow] I - [particle] - [marker] - bad Official subs: I’m a bad person → I tricked you into loving me, หลอกให้มึงรัก [lòhk - hâi - mueng - rák] trick, deceive - that - you - love Official subs: for making you fall for me → I tricked you into being crazy about me, หลอกให้มึงหลง [lòhk - hâi - mueng - lŏng] trick, deceive - that - you - be crazy about Official subs: head over heels → and then I betrayed you. แล้วหักหลังมึง [láew - hàk lăng - meung] and (then) - betray - you Official subs: and then betraying you. → I deserve to die. กูอ่ะสมควรตายเว้ย [guu - àh - sŏm-kuuan - dtaai - wóiie] I - [particle] - deserve - die - [particle] Official subs: I deserve to die.

The wording is significant, not just because our keyword หลอก [lòhk] makes another appearance, but because Style repeats Popcorn's (aka Fadel's mirror, the one voicing how Fadel feels inside) words back to Fadel. Let's compare with what Popcorn was saying: "You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. [...] There are no chances for bad people. People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die!" (Style's words: "I'm bad. I tricked you into loving me, I tricked you into being crazy about me, and then I betrayed you. I deserve to die.")

→ You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. มึงอ่ะมาหลอกให้กูรักกูหลง มึงก็ทำยังเงี้ย [mueng - à- maa - lòhk - hâi - guu - rák - guu - lŏng • mueng - gôh - tam - yang -ngíia] you - [particle] - come - trick, deceive - that - I - love - I - be crazy about • you - [sentence link] - do - like this Official subs: You made me fall for you and then betrayed me. [...] → There are no chances for bad people. โอกาส​มันไม่ได้​มีไว้สำหรับ​คนเลว [oh-gàat - man - mâi dâai - mii - wái - săm-ràp - kon leow] chance - it - not - have - keep - for - bad people Official subs: The likes of you don’t deserve second chances. → People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die! คนที่หลอกให้คนอื่นรัก สมควรให้ตายไปให้หมด [kon - tîi -lòhk - hâi - kon èun - rák • sŏm-kuuan - hâi - dtaai bpai hâi mòt] people - that - trick, deceive - that - others - love • deserve - that - die - all Official subs: The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!

As you can see, Style uses almost the exact same words that Popcorn used and they are all words that Fadel had an emotional reaction to earlier that day. Style's been paying attention. Style finishes with "I deserve to die" just like Popcorn claimed was the case and then closes his eyes and tilts his head back a little like Go on, shoot me. I am at your mercy and I am ready to die for my sins.

Two things are happening here with this little monologue: Style is being a little shit by shamelessly mocking Fadel's empty death threats. Style knows Fadel won't kill him over this, because if tricking people into falling in love had been enough of a reason to fall under Fadel's category of Bad Person™ then Fadel would have killed Jimmy earlier that day. But Jimmy is alive. And so is Style.

And the other thing is that Style is also letting Fadel know that he's figured out what Fadel is really angry about. Style is fully acknowledging now what he did that hurt Fadel so much. It's very different from earlier that day when the car broke down and Style was all "Hey, what happened happened. Let it go. Shouldn’t you be looking forward to the future? Focus on the future. Let go of your grudge." I think in the beginning Style assumed that while yes, Fadel would think Style's love was fake, the main thing he was angry about was Style being a snitch for the police. But then they ran into Jimmy and Popcorn. And then Fadel got unnecessarily offended at someone else's trickery in a relationship Fadel had nothing to do with. And Style paid attention. It's not that Style was working with the police that's the problem. The "working with the police part" is the thing that Fadel was already suspecting and expecting from the beginning. Fadel had been ready for that. That wasn't the problem. No, what hurts the most is that Style had the audacity to play with Fadel's heart first before "cheating" on him by being on the police's side. Fadel is upset because he thinks Style's love was insincere, that it was all just an elaborate trick while for Fadel himself the love was all real and Style now fully and actively realizes that. And acknowledges it. Except, Fadel denies his feelings: "Don’t be so full of yourself. I never fell for you."

Now, when Fadel tells Style not to be so full of himself, he actually tells Style not to คิดไปเอง [kít bpai eng]. Literally this phrase makes something like "think by oneself" and it's a phrase that my friend defined as "to come to a conclusion without there being any solid evidence for it". Fadel is basically telling Style something along the lines of "Don't make shit up, I never loved you." And yeah. He does indeed say "I never loved you" which to me sounds almost more hurtful than "I never fell for you":

กูไม่เคยรักมึง [guu - mâi koiie - rák - mueng] I - never - love - you

Fadel is a lying liar. And Style knows it. He stares at Fadel for a moment as if he can't believe Fadel really just dropped this with a straight face, then smiles a little. "You might be good at cooking and shooting, but you’re not very good at lying at all." And with that, Style immediately puts Fadel to the test. He starts slowly kissing his way up Fadel's arms, pausing to check in with Fadel and even more so to check his reaction. When Style gets close enough to Fadel's face, he slowly leans in for a kiss, his eyes fixed on Fadel's eyes. Style advances very slowly, giving Fadel plenty of time. Fadel actually tilts his head a little towards Style, almost welcoming a kiss, but when their noses are about to touch Fadel turns his head away. And you'd think Style would be annoyed about Fadel refusing him once again, but instead Style smiles. Because I don't think Style went into this with the goal of actually seducing Fadel, of actually trying to sleep with him again like he did in the race car bed in the beginning of the episode (though I'm sure he wouldn't have minded if Fadel had consented). No, this wasn't an attempt at getting into Fadel's pants. This was a test. Fadel refuses to kiss Style and Style smiles a little, looking almost amused. He was expecting this.

There it is. Proof that Fadel is a lying liar who lies. Proof that Fadel is mad about and hurt because of the exact things that Style has just listed only moments before. Proof that Fadel did love him. Does love him. Still loves him. Style keeps looking at Fadel, but Fadel keeps his head turned away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Instead of calling Fadel out for being a liar again, Style raises his eyebrows and backs off.

He sits back down on his spot at the other end of the tub and makes a promise: "As long as I'm alive, I'll make you kiss me again." Fadel, who in the meantime has started looking at Style again, lifts his head and goes back to avoiding eye contact with Style once more. He looks around the room. Looks anywhere but at Style. Looks at the painting at the wall instead. And that's when Fadel realizes. He knows exactly where Bison is. And with this we are left to wait a week for the next episode (except the next episode will already be out by the time I manage to post this rip).

If you think I have already spent enough words on this scene, think again. Because the dialogue in this scene is really interesting when thinking back to the bed scene from episode 5. Back then Fadel told Style "The real me might be scarier than you think". Towards the end of episode 7 and all throughout episode 8 Style has been getting glimpses of that real Fadel that he was warned about. Back in episode 5 Style knew about "the real Fadel" mostly in theory and told him "I promise that no matter what you are like, I'll still like you". And Fadel told Style that Style can judge once he's ready. And what is Style's judgment now that he's gotten to witness some of the real scary Fadel? "You're a good person at your core." And Style's stance on liking Fadel no matter what kind of person he is? "I just think there's probably no one out there who will warn you and mean well with you as much as I do." Fadel warned Style that Style should be wary of him, but Fadel also only kills bad people and Style isn't bad people and Style knows it. Fadel refused to fully open up to Style and right now in his anger he is likely even less willing to open up to Style at all and yet Style knows him, knows his present so well. And Style was even close to witnessing Fadel murdering someone and even though Style would rather Fadel didn't (and doesn't and won't), Style still doesn't judge Fadel for it. And even if Fadel had killed Jimmy, it likely wouldn't have made Style love Fadel any less. Back in episode 5 Style made the decision to be by this man's side and now in episode 8 he still firmly stands by this decision. In fact, maybe even more so now. Both of these scenes end in a promise made by Style: As long as I'm alive, I'll make you kiss me again. One day, I'll be your 100%. Style is absolutely set on this. And it won't be long until he makes good on that promise. At least on the promise he made this episode.

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7)

[crystalcatgamer]

The name's Warden, don't wear it out. Writing commissions are open, shoot me a DM.

POV old hyperfixation that consumed you VS current hyperfixation consuming you: FIGHT

Hoyoverse

OKAY FINE THE GENSHIN HYPERFIXATION CAME BACK. DAMNIT. AND I GOT INTO HONKAI STAR RAIL TOO!!! I ain't got the time to keep up with the lore!!! Why is it running parallel to my Sonic insanity?!

Anyway yeah. Traveler Twins and Trailblazers are my jam, I love Hoyo MCs and I love them feral. Also if there's a pair of doomed siblings it's almost definitely on my radar.

Genshin: Anything to do with the Archons is my joy. Sumeru & Fontaine gang are my favs. Nahida is my beloved goddess. Capitano has been my beloved captain ever since the Fatui Harbingers teaser dropped in 2022 unfortunately. Completely normal about Neuvillette, Vautrin and Carole. All the doomed siblings in the world belong to me.

HSR: Like a cactus growing in the desert, a Caelus/Stelle × All main emerges. Top Trailblazer enjoyer but I could probably eat anything if someone made it good enough. Caelus & Stelle binary star shenanigans are my favorite thing in the world. Welcome to Caelus/Ratio/Aventurine (Caeratiorine) hell. Someone free me. They're a good trio but I can mix and match them either way. In happier terms I love Sunday & Robin!!! yippie!!! Toxic doomed siblings!!! I'll kill for the Astral Express crew.

Sonic (Save me)

It's about how Maria is the Earth's soul and Sonic is the sun and Shadow is the moon and they are also all three things at once. They are incarnations of the universe's love, your honor.

Maria... humans want the sky because they cannot fly, but you, who lives amongst the stars, wants nothing more than to breathe fresh air on your beautiful blue planet.

Shadow is artificial divinity and his life is infinite and he, who fears for Sonic more than Sonic fears for himself, is just as irresistibly pulled into a blue orbit as everyone else Sonic has met. Shadow, who is cursed to love things that resemble the Earth.

It’s all One Piece? (Always has been)

Uta-chan is the most beautiful diva in the world, thank you for your time! Luffy’s my favourite little guy, and by extension I am also extremely normal about ASL. I also looked at cool mysterious characters that show up for like a dozen chapters and asked, 'is anyone going to love them?' and didn't wait for an answer.

Personal tags (Don’t reblog them please :D)

#summer nights in your lungs - ONE PIECE TAG WE WIN THESE 🏴‍☠️

#incarnation of the earth's love - Yahahaha Sonic tag.

#I still see your shadows in my room - DSMP/MCYT tag. Remember: my views on the characters do not reflect views on the content creators. Sorry for the DSMP posting, it will happen again.

#tonight we dream of stickmen - Hi. Alan Becker fan here. Hollowheads are my darlings.

#I know we’ll end up on the same one way road - Octopath Traveler I & II tag

#my family gets their own tag - Online family tag

└> #Diamond dad dude - IRL Dad tag

#I am ink on a page (A story in the making) - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint tag 📚

#these parallel shadows - JJK tag :3

#To you‚ who was (is) dearly loved - Genshin + Honkai Star Rail tag!

#and baby I know I know we could be in another city and I’d still pick you up from a line of like thirty hot guys - Star Wars tag

#cause my world’s dark except for you  - Batfam tag

#got a game for me - Ask games, bingo cards, tag trains… All that!

Non-personal tags for (fandom) organization purposes (okay to reblog)

#stormlight brainrot - Stormlight Archives tag

#agony is the new feeling great - PJO/TOA tag 

#and misc - All other miscellaneous fandoms!

I tag (most of) my writing/fics under the #my writing or #my fic writing tag as well 📝

[crystalcatgamer]

exploding mindlessly because I never used this skill let alone gave Dancer to any of the boys. The voicelines. My goodness. OSVALD JUST CLEARING HIS THROAT (my fucking favourite like the swag this holds). WHATEVER THE HELL PARTITIO IS SAYING. Temenos "You're welcome" Mistral. Castii's "Naughty naughty." killed me instantly.

The boys just... yanking their shirts off like GO BOYS WOO TITS OUT ABS ON DISPLAY

I love how the girls just show a lil bit of calves and the boys are just shameless

[gangplanksorenji]

Pulchritude

Pairing: ITZY’s Yeji x Male Reader

Word Count: 7,089

A/N: It's been a while Orenjideul! This wasn't planned to be on my draft schedule but planned at the same time LOL (pretty much quickly written). Also, thanks for @mintwithchoco for the beta-reading that made the insights about the fic!!

This was originally part of something I've been working on with and expanded it with such vague plot to probably spice things up. Enjoy reading!! <3

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“You’re crazy for this one, Chaewon.”

“It’s not my doing—” Chaewon retorts, circling her fingers onto the rim of her glass with such a distinctive smell of a concoction that piques you, distracting you a little from her words. “—this is just a part of a test.”

She drinks from her glass and darts her eyes towards you, laced with anticipation and that hint of doubt in you. You smirk with her given stare, feeling that she's getting ahead of herself with it and she’ll soon eat up her words. Extending your arm a little onto the head of the chair, you look at her with vanity and such a playful intent that intimidates her a little. “I’d say you being here is somewhat helpful by all means…”

“And why is that?” 

Her eyes never fail to intimidate you, those orbs glowing in anticipation as she doesn't break her sophisticated demeanor. You fix your posture and lean closer to her, elbows on the table and your hands subtly clasped, answering her. “So I could let you know that you’ll be embarrassed at the end of the day.”

Chaewon’s hubris wouldn’t let your words slide and make her believe you, a chortle audible within your ears as she shifted onto her usual phlegmatic disposition. “We’ll see about that but for now—” Her well-manicured nails click the champagne glass two times, before giving a sly smile of a faulty sincerity. “—you gotta do what you gotta do.”

It wouldn’t end in a usual Chaewon fashion unless her drink is empty, sipping the last few milliliters of that delectable concoction, then getting off on her seat with her last words of the night. “Text me when you’ve done it, then we'll meet tomorrow afternoon.”

Grabbing her designer bag then leaving towards the doors of such a high-class bar, you could just sense the air reeking defeat all over you, but you’ll prove her wrong. You’ll just thank yourself for getting rid of her condescending nature albeit it really fuels your aim for victory, so is the upbeat music the bar brings. 

You’ll make things work and take that triumphant ecstasy up to your name, with someone’s panties on the floor. 

“I guess we need the devil inside me to take over.” Of course you will, and you’ll do that just about right.

---

Maybe the myths are true: sometimes, the devil does unspeakable things and it’s only a matter of time before it unveils its real nature. Not exactly an excerpt, a quote or the sayings of the elderly but mostly your own common conscience that has its own intersections of roads you can’t fathom nor follow—deep inside, you’re on a leash and Chaewon’s words intoxicates you, and you’ll prove her wrong after this. 

“We’re going to have some fun tonight.”

“Oh, do you think we will?” You ask pretty playfully and audaciously, playing with her possible games. You barely know her aside from being that time where you’d constantly steal glances with her during and after Chaewon’s existence at the bar and subconsciously know you’d always come. At that moment, you know something’s disturbed within you and it’s in a good way—this is something that’s completely going to serve gratification, and you can sense how strong your gut feeling is.

“We will.” The girl inches herself closer towards you, your back pressed against the cold concrete as she pins you with her frame, fidgeting her fingers onto the hem of your shirt and then the penultimate, such dexterous fingers circling around your chest.

You feel her minty breath mixed with a hint of tequila brush against your skin as you raise her head, eyes in contact with yours—you know she’s proving something, even just with her words but those wouldn’t be enough.

“Care for an introduction?” Your hands fancy its way onto her waist, as you endearingly looked at those sharp, monolid eyes of hers rivaling that alluring stare. 

Her eyes dart between your face and onto your body, as her voice speaks up in a volume.“Yeji. You can call me Yeji.” 

Her voice invites you, and you’re captivated with her sultry tone and god, that stare of hers would make any man fall upon your own judgment but on your shoes, it would bear such a challenge. Even with such temptation handled pretty well, you can’t help but hint such an invitation under her spell—those eyes, her sultry voice, such a beautiful face and the promised treasure of them all, her impeccable figure.

You’d like to start on something fresh, induce such a new chapter that’s bound to end up in such an incredible fashion but you could only assume those things, yet.

Well, you won’t fight yourself over some idiotic retaliation between your temptations and let yourself be the judge of her capabilities and this doesn’t help when she’s just inches away from laying such a mark that will define one’s lust.

Looking straight to the abyssal void of her eyes, you’re enticed as you lift off her chin with your finger. “There you go, I love a woman with manners.” You hit her up with her own medicine: tempting.

“Who says anything about manners?” Even such chagrins or predicaments wouldn’t stop her, not unless you tell her so as the only thing you could feel are those luscious lips locked against yours. 

The sounds of such muscle creating vacuum of sounds and suctions overpowers the fading noise of the music the bar resonates—all you can hear is her kisses up against yours and you’d love to listen to it all day. 

Nothing too short nor sweet, but god, this was enough to make such a bold verdict.

“A talented kisser, hm?” Yeji hums as she pulls away from your lips’ embrace, feeling captivated with the way you display such talent.

“A girl as pretty as you would make a man like this.” Your hands then freely roam to the limited skin her waist shows but you’re not the guy to complain, but to be grateful. “Now tell me something, Yeji…”

Yeji’s eyes widen; pupils dilate as she anticipates your next words, “Tell what?”

You smirk, as your buttons were pressed enough to make such a bold move. “Why would you want me? From all of the people there, why me?”

Yeji smirks just like you, then bites her lips, using such a modicum of her actions to indulge you even more. “I just know the world destined us to this moment—led us to this moment and god…” Yeji’s hands unbuttons the topmost button of your shirt as her hands permeate such heat onto your chest to push you onto the edge. “I know what you’re gonna give to me tonight.”

Such telepathic abilities enable you to read her thoughts, and you know exactly where she’s going towards, “Let me guess, a show for the world to know?”

“For the world to fucking know.” Yeji’s words end your sentence, and seal the deal.

Licking her lips in delight, you can feel her hands roam on your chest, your abdomen then the final stop, your growing bulge. She cups onto it like it’s something she would ruin and take care of, the best of both worlds as you let out such a nigh-inaudible moan, and Yeji knows exactly you’re liking this.

“You always need to ask.” And there she goes with her wonders.

All you can see is Yeji promptly getting on her knees, and with her absolute dexterity, does her talent to unbuckle and undress your bottom half more than a count to ten.

“God…” She’s mesmerized with the view she’s currently having: you, still in your boxers as her disposition clearly displays awe and amazement. “You’re hard already this fast? Must’ve turned you on too much?”

“Who wouldn’t with a girl like you?” It just shows your evident arousal, and Yeji’s grateful to bear such an entrance. Giving the green light, she then slowly strips off your boxers down to your ankles, mostly gravity doing the work and there she goes, such eyes gleaming with utter hunger and lust.

Her lips mouth such words full of awe as her hands cups the base of your erection, leisurely stroking it as she utters such profanity, “God, your cock is something else I didn’t expect.”

Your hubris just elevated, and let your commanding demeanor take over. “Glad it is. Now, show me what you’re made of.”

She wouldn’t lose against such a hubristic battle, and settles up for a possibly stellar moment. “I won’t disappoint.”

A clear view of her lips sends pecs around your length, letting you know the immediate worshiping and carnal needs fueling her for the time being. From the base up to your already leaking slit, she didn’t waste such precious time letting you know how much she loves this and it's just evident from the start. 

She grows impatient with her repetitive kisses and ups the ante, knowing how this will make your world go wild. “I may just find myself occupied more with this.”

“Less talking and more sucking.” As much as her patience grows thinner by the second, and so are yours. She scoffs off a giggle, knowing that the main event will be such a roller coaster ride.

With the last suction of her lips collecting that colorless liquid, she advances onto something pleasurable. Her tongue then dances around your red cockhead, swirling and permeating her saliva around, upping such sensitivity on your end and with that result, you shiver and inevitably moan in response.

She suckles on your swollen head, then advances past your frenulum to do the wonder she does to your slit and god, this was elevating the experience of such gratification.

“God, s-such a talented mouth, huh?”

“Gifted, I guess.” She continues her oral assault on your throbbing length, thrusting her head up and down as she quickly accelerates the pace up to both your likings. 

The quicker speed sums up the possible experience she has and it shows—such technique is unmatched with the way her tongue dances around your shaft and the little introduction of such a serrated culprit antagonizing the pleasure you’re experiencing, albeit, you wouldn’t bother with such little pain. She takes more than half of your shaft as spits dominate her heart-shaped lips, running down to her cheeks and onto her chin which shows the passion she’s giving in every second.

The occurrence won’t be complete without elevated stimulation: you’d just feel your balls being fondled by her right hand as she encourages more for you to feel. 

And it’s working well, too well for you to utter such compliments. “You’d make myself occupied too, i-if you want—shit, that’s great…”

An audible mhmm can be heard between her bobs as she elevated the speed, then resulting into such a mess that’s just turning you on even more. Saliva continues to drip down onto her chin and onto your clothes that’s probably damned to be given care with, tears flowing down her cheek as she takes more and suddenly, she tests her limits with a single act of boldness and bravery.

She rests her nose onto your abdomen, testing her gag reflex as she’s determined to tame it but in the end, it wasn’t in her favor. Gasps escape her mouth as she catches her breath, saliva connected onto those sinful lips was just the cherry on top yet your grow little concern, afraid she may push herself too much as soon as she coughed. “You good, Yeji?”

“I’m good—I’m good, I’m g-great—your cock is just addicting.” The succulence was evident with her repeated slurps onto your shaft, and you’re just in total bliss with her performance.

Things are not done, and she’d like to end the business with a good note.

She proved herself enough and with her immediate harsh pace, you wouldn’t be a hypocrite nor lie about it. The blurry orange-bobbing head of hers just becomes a repeated image tarnished in your brain, etched until the end of time. She continues what she’s best at, gripping your thighs for further display of talent and as a reply with the surging pleasure coursing through your veins, you opted to fight the leverage with the gripping of your hands onto her audacious head.

Constant slurps, gags and moans just became the music in the air and it’s just the paramount mood you're indulged into. You’d be damned if someone will see the both of you in such a sinful act but you don’t care anymore, not when Yeji’s mouth does explicit wonders on every inch of your body and clouding your mind with such sinful thoughts.

The head game is literally onto another level of experience, but such things wouldn’t last for so long.

She can feel your persistent throbs in her mouth, and it’s a common courtesy to ask where it will end. “You’re pretty close, I assume.”

“Yeah—” You groan in pleasure as she strokes your saliva-sheathed cock with the utmost pace her hands can muster. “—and I want it all over your face.”

Yeji just smiled mischievously, knowing how things will end up on a pivotal climax and how things will unveil between the both of you. “Then do it—cover me.”

All you can see are those pretty, sharp eyes in awe as she closes it, her visage in full display for you to paint on. This is a canvas worth investing such artwork on  and you’d besmirch it with such strokes worth millions. She moans as she feels each rope touches her face, mostly her cheeks, nose, lips, chin and some even getting onto her hair. Those fifteen seconds felt like a minute as you’re in a total state of bliss and for such a conclusion, she strokes you in hopes of milking you dry, emptying up your reservoir.

“God, that tasted great.” Yeji licks her lips and hums in satisfaction and when your senses are coming back to life, you ask her with such doubt.

“How would you clean up?”

Yeji chuckles as she stands up, facing you, “No one wouldn’t care.”

You smile sincerely as you dress your bottom-half up, satisfied as her voice invites you. “Let’s get out of here.”

She’s partly a monster; partly an angel in disguise, yet she can be the best of both worlds and it’s only a matter of time before depths will be reached.

---

Gone are the boisterous music ringing repeatedly in your ears and the alcohol that will probably dominate your body, because at this time, there’s nothing better than her lips locked against yours for the second time.

She feels ruthless and so were you, feeling her tongue dancing against yours and you gripping her waist harshly as you deepen such entanglement.

Her room was something pivotal about your already impeding arousal: dim lights, vanilla-scented air freshener and such a balcony for the both of you to enjoy, and maybe it’s something else than what’s usually known for people to do there.

“Never knew you could have such a room, Yeji.”

Yeji smirks as her nails dug into your skin gently, pressing it playfully as she mouthed her own pride. “This is nothing compared to anything you’ll see but for now, you’ll be more than my guest.” And then her eyes locked up against yours as those orbs wandered around your beautiful face.

Her eyes really tell you about her adoration, as the earlier test was just the tip of the iceberg, and guess what, you passed with flying colors.

“I’d love to be one, Yeji.”

You then share another torrid kiss with her, feeling attached to her ultimately and falling under her spell. She kisses you genuinely as you reciprocate, but you want more, so you pull out of her lips’ embrace, earning a moan from her as you find your way on peppering her neck with pecs and those sharp collar bones. 

You’d eventually take a glance of her flawless features, even though it’s evident ruined by you earlier but it’s such an important element of such undying beauty. You earned your minuscule rewards—her faint moans and chants calling you—and you’d love to double it, with more skin, your lips parts and marks.

“God, please—fuck…” Yeji’s pleas are audible enough for you to be distracted and it’s worth your while knowing it’s something that could elevate such an experience.

“Please what, Yeji?” You continue pecking her creamy, porcelain skin, suckling on it but not enough to result in hickeys and god, it just resulted in sexier moans escaping her lips. 

She’s struggling to articulate words that can formulate her wants, but she’d put up an end to such a clouding demise. “I want more—god—more, please…”

You grip her waist harsher, gaining such control as you pin her harder onto the wall and what a poor soul whimpering upon your own dominative assertion. You grant her needs as you caress her waist while peppering her with torrid kisses, resulting in such a cacophonous symphony that you would cherish hearing every second. 

You wanted more from her and her answer still made your satisfaction resting onto a low zero. “What do you want from me, baby?”

The word elicits a gasp from her mouth, feeling appalled with such a name she always finds hot and funnily enough, the stars are aligning. 

She whimpers but manages to think clearly and didn’t hesitate to be vocal about it, “Your cock, please—” 

As she’s about to advance her hands onto your clothes crotch, you stop her as you shake your head leisurely, having another plan in mind. “No—have some patience and also…” Yeji’s eyes scintillate beneath the dim light that appears as she’s anticipating what words could leave your mouth. “I gotta return the favor.” 

Your hands roamed its way onto the hem of her tight skirt, and asked such a question she can’t deny. “May I?”

She hitched a broken breath and gulped as she responded intimately, “Yes—yes, you can.”

Your fingers ran towards the edge of her skirt and eventually found the zipper and did such wonders, things that could easily soothe her and make her more comfortable. As much as you wanted to see it down on the floor, revealing her probably wet panties, you have other thoughts about your own, selfish arousal.

“Don’t want it on the floor?”

“This outfit, Yeji—” Your left hand then forced her figure pressed onto yours as she yelped with your immediate action, earning a startled whimper as her eyes looked at you like it’s her favorite candy. She loves your subtle harsh acts, and she won’t be deprived of any since this was just a gentle introduction. “—looks amazing on you.”

Yeji smiles as the compliment strokes her ego and how genuine you sounded, “Thanks, for—ooh, gosh!”

She yelped with your touch permeating on her legs as you roamed your hands towards her clothed regions which earned such a sultry, needy moan from Yeji. You can feel the heat that’s rivaling your cold hands and as the cherry on top, her wetness evident from her slit which is probably leaking right from the start.

You loosen up the zip of her skirt and god, she vocalizes how better it felt and maybe it’s mostly because of the fact that your fingers are pleasuring her crotch against that fine silk that’s about to be ruined thanks to your dexterity. It was pursuant to her and wherever she wants it, you’re going to follow it and with her subsequent moans, you’d like to let her know that your skills are up to par. Feeling the hunger running down your body, you can’t help but share another kiss, but this time, it feels chaste since all of the attention and unfeigned emotions are translated down with your fingers. They both felt like deprived lions from the wild, and such an inevitable kiss will bound to feed the pleasure the both of you are needing.

The evident bulge pokes down on your pants and Yeji was quick to notice that, cupping it and caressing to tame the beast. You moaned with her actions and so she is, too, but it's a repeated chant in your ears as she pleads with you for your own comfort. “Your cock, please.”

You didn’t care anymore, and knowing how the both of you wanted this then you wouldn’t deny her for doing the same thing you’re great at. Even with pleasure lingering onto every lobe in her brain, it won’t stop her to claim her promised prize as you help her undress your bottom-half, unbuckling your belt as she does the last step and all you can feel are your defenses going down, one by one as the raging beast that’s inside that clothed prison is about to be unshackled. 

The wait was worth it and the both of you are now in such a vulnerable state that a single touch would make a writhe or shiver as sensitivity is the culprit. Yeji’s fingers are on point and dexterous as expected—the way she danced her hands around your shaft, stroking it in a corkscrew motion is making you feel such bliss that’s unmatched and god, the scene is just hot.

You never thought the sight of the both of you masturbating would be so damn arousing and thought it was just some myth but yet again, hypocrisy is eliminated within the time being.

“God—you really can’t wait, huh?” 

“How can I? We need to mutually feel the same.” Yeji knows her pursuit against your aching beast wasn’t going to bother you, but rather the opposite. Her strokes were going livid as you groan with the lack of lubrication but it was exchanged by the pleasure that she gives you and of course, you wouldn’t lose onto this game and did the same, possibly vibrating your fingers and you maintain such an up and down motion which inevitably elicits such visceral moan from her.

The both of you did your best with your own expertise, doing such sinful things without even the main event is honestly criminal, and you would hold onto that because you want to make use of this and you’d prove to her you’re as good as she is.

“You’re fucking dripping, Yeji—god, did I turn you on so much?” Possibly a rhetorical question or maybe not, but either way, you know she’ll be a little irritated enough to defend her claim and quit such hypocrisy.

“N-No shit—you’re that talented too, huh?” You smile with her inadvertent compliment as you avert your eyes through her clothed crotch and it’s being ruined with her own doing, leaving such a masterpiece of clothing worthless, spoiled with her own juices.

“A natural, more likely—ah!” You yelp with Yeji’s sudden squeeze of your shaft in between her strokes as you glare at her playfully, her face then forming such a seductive smirk then a little scoff with your confidence. 

“You’re cocky too? God, you’re such a rare gem.”

A rare find, you suppose which is truly the truth—you’ll prove to her that there’s no one she can find that will be better than you. Your impatience is growing thinner by the second even with such a hot mess between both your crotches, and you’d let her know about your frustrations and needs.

“Yeji, I need to fuck you now.”

The tone is commanding, your face stern and her eyes widen with those simple words of need. Your eyes meet hers and they never lie—those glowing orbs of yours didn’t cease the exhilaration you’re feeling and she’s the one to blame. 

As much as it hurts for the both of you to stop, it will be rewarding once the climax settles in for such a spectacular show.

“How would you want me?” Yeji’s voice was bubbly but still hinting at that lace of seduction, being the alluring vixen that she is. 

“Strip that skirt, lay onto your stomach, and lastly, feet onto the floor.”

She is as thrilled as you are, and immediately puts up a show but doesn't go further without a question for such clarification, “Don’t you wanna see me naked?”

You would want to, but not now.

“Just the skirt, please. Everything else, on.” Commanding and straight to the point, just how you wanted all along. 

There were no complaints or the fact she’s abstaining from this command of yours, and in fact, it maybe even made it hotter. The way she’s seductively teasing and pulling her zipper until gravity does the job, it’s just a sight to behold and the final product left you in awe: the ruined black silk panties in such alongside the scribbled pattern of her stocking that just made the sight sizzle it complete heat that she emanates (figuratively).

“Like what you see?” She turns around then again, showing you her perfect figure all with your eyes to feast on as you were a step away from your final prize.

“Yes, now please turn around and lay on your stomach like I said.”

Your imperative nature sets herself in a position of reluctance but then shifts onto an immediate opposite. She does what she was told and wiggles her ass leisurely to invite you with a temptation to ruin her and even though if she won’t be vocal about it, you'd make it so that she won't be able to walk until the next day.

Yeji looks back onto her shoulder and lets out such profanity words, “Make a mess out of me—I don’t break easily.”

You won’t be convinced until you try it yourself but looking at her robustness and skills earlier, you might have to be biased with your judgment. “We’ll see about that.”

Completely kicking your garments to god knows where, you’re now in a better state of control as you tease her wet folds, earning a whimper that becomes uncontrollable as soon as you sink your finger against her raging heat. 

You can’t wait no more, you absolutely can’t because you’re dying to know what she feels like and with her last bit of defense out of your way, it’s time to do the unthinkable.

Now parting her supple legs with your hands, your eyes feast on her impeccable figure then onto that delicious cunt that’s making you drool. Unable to contain your enjoyment and your fantasies against her, you caught her by surprise with an unexpected twist—probably the twist that you’re involved in would be your tongue lathering her folds and tasting the escaping nectar that she produces.

It was succulent and you dived in it easily as the musky, floral scent of her tight cunt invites you, and you didn’t waste time as this was a golden opportunity. You wanted to tease her just for the sake of stimulation, playing a game with her ramping orgasm building up but you’d reckon the opposite and such pace ensued impatiently.

“Fuck! Such a t-talented mouth—fuck!” Yeji’s whines were coherent enough for you to increase the pace and double your efforts—you wish to let her reach her denied climax earlier with your fingers and your mouth. It wasn’t far off as you can feel her juices forming a rivulet onto her labia and spreading onto your chin and mouth, knowing how incredibly close she can be. She calls you repeatedly, gripping the sheets tight enough to rip it but it can’t and you eat her out with an effort that no one can rival.

A single wail is what it took before she screams, and there goes your long-chased win within a second away—

“I’m going to cum—” Surprisingly short and articulate, you let her give everything she has and there she goes—

Yeji’s orgasm comes in quickly as soon as she mutters those desperate words, and she immediately lays waste as she constantly spews liquid after liquid onto her sheets which instantly gets ruined. The both of you didn’t care about it but rather mind your own business while you still extended her climax, achieving such heights of her vocals.

“God—just fuck m-me now, please…”

Your cock is aching and throbbing in need, and with the penultimate action making her see such stars, it’s time for the last and the main event to take place.

You ask her if she’s in good condition and she didn’t bother to assure you, so with her green light, you stepped onto the throttle and gave in to your deepest, carnal desires.

Standing up, you then give her backside a last look before you plunge your length inside her wet hole and immediately groan with its tightness, feeling like her walls are gripping your shaft with a Herculean effort that probably was the blessing in disguise. 

“You’re fucking tight, Yeji—this feels just right.” And it is too right to be true, and you love it.

“Stretch me out—fuck, you’re crazy.”

Lust ignites you and it serves such an everlasting fuel for what’s bound to happen, and you give in just like that. You started off slow, letting her get accustomed to your length as you bury the entirety of your shaft then withdraw with just the tip inside, showing such penetration that could make any girl’s mind go haywire.

It’s starting to get to her slowly in every thrust you do—the utter pleasure your cock brings was phenomenal and with her small whines could determine how she’s really feeling deep inside. She grips onto the bedsheets like her life depends on it and it’s only going to get better once you manage such a pace that will make her think of you and you only.

Her cunt tightens once you spanked that pristine skin of hers and then called out to let her know something, “I’ll own this cunt until you see the stars above, do you understand?”

Between her wails of pleasure is her ephemeral nod with your question, unable to speak up due to the stimulation that’s coursing through her. Every stroke you do causes such slaps that adds to the orchestra of her moans that can be possibly heard outside as her room is too puny to shackle such sinful sounds of sex. You grip her hips harshly and increase your pace, making you moan on how she clenches her velvety walls once your length hits it balls-deep inside her.

“Want me to be rough, Yeji?” You hammer your hips in a velocity that’s making her brain in shambles, unable to mutter a response after a second in which you didn’t like.

A small punishment would do the job, but this is rewarding for her and a statement by yours. “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

Her breaths are ragged between your thrusts as she cries with your immediate barrage of spanks, causing her to finally answer you even with her mind unable to achieve such clear articulacy. “Yes, p-please—I want it, ow!”

Another spank onto those pristine skin of hers never fails to make you throb with how it jiggled with such harshness, and the marks that’s finally imprinted on the soft skin tells such roughness. As she grows accustomed with your length due to her repeated chants of pleasure, you quickly opted for what could raise such an experience.

If her mind is ultimately clouded with you and can’t think straight, then you’re the opposite, clearly adapting to the situation.

“Yeji…”

“Wha—ooh! Mffh—mmh!” Ragged breaths leave her mouth as she struggles to breath with what you’ve done—you opted for a leverage that asserts your domination over her making the long, black lace at the back of her neck deemed as a leash rather than an aesthetic of her outfit. She probably liked the fact of such risking playing between life and death thanks to the asphyxiation and it didn’t stop you, but rather prove a point. 

“You like being choked and used, slut?” Your words just made Yeji elicit more moans as she’s being tamed, controlled by you and god, the way she’s creaming against your rapidly ramming length tells you about her satisfaction. The sheets will probably rip off no matter how durable they are and lastly, it will be soaked with her own juices and that’s thanks to your own doing. Her feet then raise up in the air as you give a better angle of penetration, switching between the black lace and onto her legs for leverage.

Even though she's barely stripped from her clothing, her clothes really compliments her figure and you’d like to take this mental picture and etch it on the deepest parts of your brain—something worth remembering until the end of time. The way that she's a disheveled, ruined mess right now just fuels you to break her in half and you’re not going to stop until you’ve fulfilled such destiny.

You wanted your hands to be occupied onto something and not being idle most of the time and with such a completely ruined mess of a girl she is now, you’d love to add more of it. You then grab her wrists and command her to arch her back, in which she complies and immediately, your hands reach onto those perky breasts of hers with the clothing still in the way. You caress them and Yeji can vouch she could feel such intensity even with such stellar clothing being a nuisance but there’s nothing to worry about, not when you’re giving her absolutely everything to feel.

You didn’t stop there as you leaned your frame closer to her while hammering her tight cunt repeatedly and utter the words, “This cunt is mine now, Yeji.”

She nodded and exclaimed a faint yes as you gave her pecs onto her shoulders, letting her know how much you love every single inch of hers and how you’re marking your own territory. Between your kisses is a feeling that something’s building up and you can feel it with the way her walls pulsate around your shaft—you know she's close and it’s up for you to let her wants prevail.

There wasn’t any choice and you love to see Yeji writhe as you give her such thrusts before her cardinal end. 

“I know you’re dying to cum—” You invite her to give in as she moans with your words, urging such a release that could let her see the things you wanted her to have a sight of. “—so cum on this cock. Cum for me.”

Your words act like a lever that opens up her reservoir and it feels like a tsunami surging around your length. With multiple cries to spare, you wanted to make her feel something exquisite while achieving her own orgasm, letting you finger avert her chin facing you, against her shoulder as you kissed her lips intimately. Time felt slow as the both of you locked lips and to ride off her high, you slowed down because you still wanted her to feel such intense gratification through her awaited climax.

“I n-never felt that good in my entire life.” Yeji’s breaths were jagged, as she recovers from her orgasm even with your lengthy still penetrating and possibly destroying her insides. Even with a possibly mind-fucked Yeji, she knew what you wanted all along and didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Aren’t you close?”

“Well, if you didn’t cum, I would’ve come first.”

An audible gasp resonated in your ears as it piqued her willingness to help you, and it was evident in her tone. “I could feel it too—just fuck me silly again and just cum.”

She recovered fast because of the evident change of her tone, and you, still a bit puzzled and hesitant knowing she may want a load deep inside her. “Don’t want it inside—”

“Then do it in my mouth—you fucking which hole is now your choice.”

Her invitation is just persuasive and alluring and it never fails you to fall a victim for. Knowing how she wanted it, as much as you wanna bother such another session being between her legs, you’d want to fulfill her wants and it’s safer with the help of a great oral ending.

“On your knees then, and open your mouth. I’m going to fuck your face.” You let her position and prepare herself for what's about to come as surprisingly, her legs are still working fine after all of the havoc you’ve brought into her.

Yeji closes her eyes, her mouth agape, ready for the taking as you stroke your length in its absolute vigor and there she goes, taking you again for the second time. This time, you take control by grabbing her ponytail that’s shockingly intact even with the ruckus you made her be in earlier. She’s taking you like a good girl as you ram into her face with abandon, skin slapping signaling the constant harshness you bring and it is perfect. She gagged and you didn’t care, yet she managed to tame it but wasn’t successful as always—you praised her attempts and wasn’t close to being futile. Her nails dug into the skin of your thighs as she let it be the leverage onto your constant rummage in her throat, and she welcomed every thrust with a gleeful demeanor, locking her gaze towards you.

She cries, tears running down her cheek as she was a disheveled mess and you’re proud of what you’ve done. You could feel the familiar sensation tingling near your stomach and a better way to end such a monumental note is giving everything you can. 

The unstoppable force meets the immovable object, as such velocity is unparalleled, hammering her tight throat like it’s her cunt and within seconds from her last gag you could feel everything coming down to this moment. Here it goes: Yeji chokes yet manages to keep your length all the way in, you groaning and calling her name like a chant and of course, the awaited climax that filled her throat up to the brim. You stayed for five more seconds, burying your length as her arms writhe with her repeated gags and then, pulls out immediately, strings of saliva adding to the mess she is and of course, the image of Yeji almost choking out your load but manages to compose herself to swallow it all, humming gleefully as she not get to taste the entirety of your delicious load.

“Like I said—it’s fucking delicious—hah.” The both of you caught your own breaths yet Yeji shows the struggle evidently. Still on her knees, she managed to show what you’ve done as your reward and the last thing you just saw her go is gulp down all of it in one go, into her stomach. She initiated the last dance with her hands grabbing your shaft, then directing it onto her mouth in order to clean the mess she made onto it. You groan with the sensitive surge she brings you, thankfully her tongue doing the work but you don't complain as within seconds, she ends her oral assault and it makes you feel spectacular for a long while.

You cup her cheeks, admiring the glamorous mess you made in which she unhesitantly neaten with her utmost capabilities. “You’re so damn pretty, Yeji.”

“You too.”

It was mutual at this moment and you never knew it would end like this but her voice wants to tell you that something isn’t over, yet.

“Help me clean up?”

And it was a hint, just out of curiosity, you’ll probably pull the trigger because how can you not refuse her invitation?

---

After countless sleepless nights and tumultuous days, you find yourself at the top of the world, and what better way to end this is just to go home, lay down and reminisce what a day this has been.

“The lights are pretty, huh?” Yeji interrupts your moment with her voice, and she locks her eyes towards yours, staring deeply into your soul as you fall onto it yet manage to snap back to reality.

“Yeah, it is—also, I just can’t comprehend how we ended up this way.” Yeji’s on the same boat as you and you could feel it in your nerves. This felt like a fever dream and you loved every second of it.

“Maybe that’s how destiny works, huh?”

You scoff, as your lips curled up a faint smile and muttered, “Maybe it is and yeah, I should leav—”

“Leave?” Yeji pouts as she inches herself closer onto yours, holding your wrist as her tone hints at her disappointment. “Don’t you wanna bother and stay just for this night?”

You can’t resist her, you absolutely can’t as you don’t want to be the bearer of bad news that will make her feel awkward.

You have a choice and you’ll stick with that… in her favor.

You smile sincerely, and Yeji’s holistic demeanor appears, “Okay, how can I resist you?”

“Up for you to find out.”

Maybe she was good, but honestly, she’s great. She is partly a monster and partly an angel, and you’ll live in those worlds together as you find your soulless heart beating rapidly for the first time in a long while.

You’re completely invigorated, and you’ll embrace this new chapter that opened.

“She’s good, she’s good—she’s great.”

---

You continue ruminating about the day you’ve had, and every moment was worth remembering. You smiled in your victorious attempts, which is having her number on your phone and sleeping with her through the night. As Yeji does her hygiene in the bathroom, a buzz on your phone piques your attention, and it was no other than the devil that made yourself look like an angel despite what you descended yourself into.

kim_chaewon on 23:15 - “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you huh? Well done with the second phase, meet me tomorrow afternoon for further details. Enjoy your night for now—we’re still not done.”

She received it damn well minutes ago and made her eat up her words, but you’re still clearly within the base of the iceberg, and you’re still starting your remarkable journey.

“Hah… Of course we aren’t…” There was no surprise with that as you muttered in response to her text.

Yet there are multiple questions lingering in your mind: How did she know about this? How would she know if you’re lying or not? What may happen tomorrow? How long will this take? 

You could never answer those unless you figure things out, and let Chaewon introduce you to more of what’s possible between both worlds: you and everyone else’s, including hers.

[jgnico]

Is someone gonna talk about the use of signage in yesterday's episode? Do I have to be the one to talk about the use of signage in yesterday's episode?

I know we all saw the billboard beside Choso displaying the abilities of his technique in tandem with the narrator, but there were so many more great uses of the signs in the background to convey information.

The first sign (and also one of the first shots) that we see in the episode is a Pedestrian Do Not Cross sign overlaid by the sound of Yuuji running, followed by Yuuji's shadow itself taking up the position of the pedestrian on the sign. You can read this as the sign telling Yuuji not to proceed to where he's going or as an indication of how the upcoming fight will end for the viewer.

The next sign that we get is one telling us to Go Left, which doesn't really seem important, but I promise you, it is. We'll see a lot of arrows pointing left throughout the episode and every single one of them is pointing away from danger. Go Left to avoid danger, essentially.

These two signs are arguably the most important in the episode, but they aren't the coolest use of visual symbolism that we got, so lets keep going.

The third sign that we see focused on in the episode is a No Running sign that Yuuji passes that says "Do Not Rush. It Is Dangerous." Yuuji, of course, runs past it on his way toward the escalators that lead (for him) to Gojo and (for the viewer) to Choso.

Once he does get to the bottom of the escalators, Yuuji is attacked by Choso immediately and Choso's opening move (Convergence), once Yuuji moves his arms up and away from his face, slices up through the subway cieling and the road above to cut the Pedestrian Do Not Cross sign that we saw at the beginning of the episode in half.

We also get out first big Left Arrow, placed immediately in the foreground of the shot and pointing toward the aforementioned sign that's been cut in half (this will be important later), but in a another view, it also points away from station itself. Again, go left to avoid danger.

Our next Left Arrow is on the ceiling between Yuuji, indicating that he should go away from Choso. Interestingly enough, it also points toward the bathrooms that Yuuji will go into later once his fight with Choso in the hallway becomes too dangerous.

That same arrow falls to the floor between them once Choso gets mad after Yuuji tells him about Eso and Kechizu crying, this time pointing directly away from Choso.

Another Left Arrow, this time in a more urgent red. We see this once Yuuji realizes that he's in serious danger, that he'll loose if he continues to fight Choso in the hallway. It's also pointing away from the bathrooms and toward the escalators from Yuuji's point of view beside the bathrooms, indicating that he needs to leave the area entirely.

The previous arrow pointing toward the bathrooms as a safe option has been destroyed and Yuuji has taken some serious damage by the time he moves toward them. The bathrooms are no longer safe. Yuuji needs to leave.

This is followed up by the only Right Arrows that we see focused on in the epsiode, but unlike the Left Arrows, they aren't used to convey how to get away from danger, but rather what is dangerous. Not only do these arrows all point toward Choso outside of the shot, they also have each of his techniques displayed below them.

Once the bathroom fight is over and Yuuji is on death's door, we get a zoomed out shot of his body framed by (two) people cut in half. This sign is shown right before Sukuna makes his only appearance in the episode, where we hear the sound of electricity flickering.

We heard this exact sound earlier from the Left Arrow telling Yuuji to get away from Choso at the beginning of the fight, but I like to interpret it as an audio indicator of Yuuji's life and/or control of Sukuna flickering in and out, becoming weaker.

Side Note: In the previous shot of Yuuji that we get before this one, we see a blade of light cutting Yuuji in half, the same way Convergence cut the Pedestrian Do Not Cross sign in half earlier in the episode. This will come into play later in the post, but keep it in mind.

The next time we see these bisected bathroom signs is when Mimiko and Nanako approach Yuuji to awaken Sukuna. Two people framing Yuuji/Sukuna that have been cut, while those same signs are whole in the hallway to the left. Go left to avoid danger applies to the girls here as well.

Our next important set of signs are actually the same sign, a large green arrow in the foreground that points away from where Yuuji's body is. While Choso stumbles away from it (away from Yuuji/Sukuna) the girls walk toward it.

This is also the first Left Arrow that we see point toward Choso, unlike the one pointing away from him at the beginning of his and Yuuji's fight. Choso, at this moment and onward, is no longer a source of danger to Yuuji or to us, the viewer.

And finally, the final shot of the entire episode, our old friend, the Pedestrian Do Not Cross sign. Yuuji has lost to Choso, the girls have found him to awaken Sukuna, and we get a focus shot of the Pedestrian that previously represented Yuuji cut in half and covered in blood.

I mentioned earlier that we get another shot of Yuuji cut in half by a ray of light in the bathroom.

Here is that shot, and the way that I interpret it is as a reminder that Yuuji shares his body. Yuuji's control of his body has been cut off in the same way that the Pedestrian representing Yuuji has had part of it cut away. What's left is the part that Yuuji can't control, the Pedestrian covered in blood.

Additionally, repeated use of a sign showing pedestrians cut in half and bloody can also represent the civilians in Shibuya, especially now that Yuuji no longer has control of his body.

[edenesth]

[7:03 AM]

"Oh my freaking god! If you don't know how to drive, go back to driving school!" you shouted, resisting the urge to flip off the car in front of you. "Seriously, how did these people even get their driver's licenses?!"

Seonghwa bit his lip, glancing over at you with hearts in his eyes. He admired your heeled foot pressing aggressively on the accelerator as you overtook the slow driver hogging the fast lane. His eyes travelled up to your work outfit—a well-fitted black velvet dress with a mid-thigh slit, a floral-patterned scrunchie on your wrist, and a pair of geeky rose gold-rimmed glasses on your face.

God, if only she knew how hot she looked.

The thing was, you were usually the sweetest angel known to man. Everyone at your workplace called you 'sunshine,' and you truly were the nicest person to exist, a quality that had drawn him to you. To him, this made you wifey material, and he couldn't imagine loving anyone else if you weren't the one he eventually married.

But there was one time when you were most unlike your usual self: whenever you were on the road, behind the wheel. When you drove, you turned into a complete demon.

He remembered witnessing this side of you for the first time. It was just a few weeks into your relationship when he needed a ride. His initial shock quickly turned into admiration as he savoured the meanest resting bitch face he'd ever seen on you. He had no idea his sweet, perfect angel could harbour such rage.

That same expression was on your face now, and he would never tire of seeing it. However, there was one problem: he was getting a little too excited from seeing you like this. This was not the right time for such feelings. He was on his way to work, for goodness' sake. The last thing he needed was for his coworkers to notice how 'affected' he was by his girlfriend first thing in the morning.

To avoid letting his excitement escalate, he quickly took out his phone and started playing around with it, eventually settling on taking selfies using the mirror on the visor to distract himself.

"Man, I look good today," he smirked.

"Oh yeah? We'll see how good you look when you have to walk yourself to work tomorrow. This will be the last time I'm dropping you off, Park. That goddamn car of yours better be all serviced and ready by the end of the day."

His grin vanished at your words. "But babe, we're having such a good time. Don't you like spending a few extra minutes with me, hm? Besides, the guys at the workshop said it could take a few days if the spare parts don't arrive on time—" he was cut off by the deadly glare you shot him.

"If you think being stuck in an unnecessary jam and being late to my own job because of you is a good time, you need to reevaluate your priorities," you said coolly, eyes on the road as you overtook all the drivers from hell and sped toward his office building, which was thankfully not too far from yours.

"Yes, ma'am."

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how to feel hearing those words, but he supposed he finally understood what it meant to be both scared and turned on at the same time because damn, that was hot.

Before he could dwell on those feelings for too long, the car slowed to a stop, and he realised you had arrived at his workplace. After shifting the gear to park, you turned to face him, your usual warm smile greeting him once again—the smile he adored, the one that had stolen his heart, the one that made him realise you were the one.

"We're here, Hwa! You know I don't mean any of those words, right? I'll drive you whenever you need me to. Now go before you're late."

Just like that, his angel was back.

His heart melted all over again as he leaned in to press his lips firmly against your invitingly pink ones, not caring if he ruined your gloss. That was what you deserved after all the things you had just said to him. Call it his little payback if you will. To his delight, your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back, just like the sweet angel you always were, giving in to him without fail.

Pulling back slowly, you sighed, "Go. I'll see you after work. Love you."

He bit his lip, feeling your thumb swiftly wipe your gloss off his lips. "I love you too, babe. God, you drive me crazy."

And he meant it.

You giggled, pushing him away by the chest. "You do the same to me, Park Seonghwa."

As he got out of the car, his heart pounded in his chest, still reeling from the emotional whiplash you had given him. Feeling hot from the experience, he loosened his tie to cool off before entering his office. Oh yes, he couldn't wait to be picked up by you this evening. Unlike now, he would be able to show you just how crazy you made him once you got home tonight.

Just you wait, you little devil.

ATEEZ Masterlist

I... this is self-indulgent as fck, that's all I'll say HAHA this was the only thing on my mind as I was driving home from work today. I'm usually sweet as an angel (it's what most people say about me) but good lord, I'm unrecognisable whenever I'm on the road.

Sacrificed my workout time to write this because priorities LMFAO

Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this random timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

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@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

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@bangtannie7

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[crystalcatgamer]

It's really been a year sobbing

🎉 happy anniversary 🐙Ⅱ!! 🍻

can't believe it's been a year already!! i love this game to bits

[ayselluna]

Spawn Astarion Recommendations!

So I heard you guys want Spawn Astarion Recommendations too! I heard you :) Apologies if it took awhile it got hard to compile everything I read.

I honestly have read more one shots Spawn Astarion than series tbh. but here are some series I love! These are Astarion x Tav / You / OCs following the story from the game! I'll be happy to make another list for AU's! Another Ascended list is on the way too~ :))

I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND FOLLOWING THESE WRITERS TOO as they have really great HCs and One Shots!

The Arrangement by @fangswbenefits - This is one of the first ones I've read and how she wrote Astarion is just so ASTARION! The lines, the slow burn and the smut are exquisite as hell. I do suggest reading her oneshots too! Her smuts are so good I suggest reading it ALONE. XD ONGOING!

The Fangs Between Us by @feyascorner - Not your typical Lovey-dovey Astarion and Tav. Astarion actually felt betrayed and actually tried killing you! Can love still blossom? is it still there? Would you guys even be friends?! So much angst and but oh so goooood! ONGOING!

Shadows of the Past by @pastshadowsff-blog / PallidMoon - What's an Astarion story w/o the angst? I would definitely be devastated the moment Astarion left me! The process of healing and loving, the confrontations here are soooo on point! Have a good gale on the side too~ ONGOING!

Love at First Knife by @bg-brainrot - DEFINITELY A FAVORITE! Aside from the romance from Astarion and TAV you get the WHOLE GANG TOO! I'm a sucker on everything on this series! I can't count how many times I've re-read this while I wait for my other fics to update. ONGOING? I'm not sure but it gets updated!

When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by @bg-brainrot - okay another one from the same author, at this point just read everything!! okay, but what if TAV died and got reincarnated?! If you got an elf TAV this is definitely one for the books! I LOOOOVE this one a lot. Getting your memories back and seeking your lover out, would it be the same? Would he even remember you?! Surely he will right?! but what if he don't? hmmmm READ IT! ONGOING!

Astarion Talks In His Sleep by  @littlejuicebox - This is a short series but this was just memorable coz WE'LL LOVE EVERYTHING in it. It's one of the happy endings you'd totally wish for and how this story got me gasping and giddy was just chef's kiss! You'll love her DADSTARION series too! I LOVE THIS FAMILY A LOT. :))

Cursed To Put My Hands On Everything by @maladaptive-menace - I recently found this and I got hook immediately on the concept! I also love the titles on this series, as the title says~ :)) So imagine you're doing your mundane things IRL and one tiring night you found yourself Isekaid IN the GAME?! You know you're effed up, how would you survive?! well at least you got your dream come true of meeting the gang in the flesh…specially the Pale Elf~ ONGOING!

Winter Holiday Challenge Fills by @justporo - So this is an all fluff from the Winter Holidays! I know it's not christmas anymore but if you missed it during that time who cares?! READ IT! Get all the fluffiness you need from this series! Check that full masterlist on their profile too while you're at it~ :)) FINISHED!

The Currents of Destiny by @lendeah - You and Astarion fights after he didn't go with the Ascension, left and scorn you to die screaming! But what if he sees all the what if that could happen?! Would his decision stay the same? FINISHED!

An Adventure in Making a Life by @redlittlefoxari - okay something different but maybe a PREGNANCY fic anyone? :D This was one of the fastest story I binged! You both just learned you're pregnant but an invitation from a friend comes forth! Maybe keep it a surprise for the gang? How would this pregnancy on the road takes you? ALSOOOO FREAKING LOVIING HUSBAND ASTARION UGGHH i can't~

I have more authors to recommend but we'll keep this list for now! I urge you to follow these authors too and check their other works.

Let me know if you guys are up for more recommendations! I have more to share! <3 Hope you enjoy reading them as I did! More reading buddies!

[sleepyangelkami]

pls do more of carl grimes😭🙏🙏 (can be smut or fluff idrc🤭)

TROUBLE ADJUSTING c.grimes

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

CARL GIMES X FEM!READER

 𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - there was a heavy difference between travelling the roads filled with dead people walking and alexandria, a place that you fear is too much like the old world. you have some trouble adjusting, luckily your boyfriend carl doesn't mind you using him as a human shield.

 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - anxiety, social anxiety, obvious attachment issues, aged up characters, (2) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the roads were unlike anything you'd ever experienced in your entire life.

the prison wasn't exactly the best option but it was safe and it was secure. it kept the dead out and the living in. when you were at the prison, you were never told to leave the grounds. perhaps that was why the road had been such a shock to you and not the others.

you thought when you and the others got off the roads and found a new place to settle down, things would mellow out.

and by things, i mean the elephant in the room between you and carl.

you and carl had been dating for quite some time now. you'd always been close, you supposed. but on the roads? he was your safe haven. you slowly began isolating yourself into just you and him.

though he never minded, of course.

if anything, it put carl a little at ease, knowing you were always so close to him. during the prison, he worried tremendously about you, where you were during the night, what you were doing. you two weren't permitted to sleep in a cell together, at that stage.

but rick's rules began to disappear when death began to slap him in the face over and over. if anything were to happen to any of you, he'd like to think you lived doing what you wanted, what made you happy.

besides, you didn't really have anyone other than the grimes' family.

michonne and you had moved into the large grimes' house in alexandria. rick and michonne were at one end of the hall, judith's room somewhere in between and then it was carl's room. you didn't like to call it your room seeing as it wasn't your house. but the grimes' let you know that it was as much your house as it was theres.

"you wanna go for a walk or something?" carl questioned causing your head to move from his shoulder.

you and carl had this sort of ritual of reading comic books together since the beginning of the breakout. you were thankful that at least that didn't change now that you were in alexandria. "do you want to?"

carl shrugged, debating. sure, he wanted to. at the same time, he worried for you. it was evident that the change hadn't been good for you. once so bubbly and outgoing, you'd sort of shrunk into yourself. now, you didn't even feel all that comfortable talking to rick. "why not? the place is huge."

that much was true.

you'd never seen a place as huge as this, even before the breakout. you only worried that you may run into someone on the way.

"what's going on up there, baby?" his finger tapped against your head, bringing you back.

with a bitten lip, you tried your best to conceal the obvious anxiety bubbling in your chest. "i don' know... i jus' don't wanna see anyone."

"we don't have to." he shrugged his shoulders. "we'll just keep reading the comic." before relaxing back into the pillows of his bed.

but you couldn't leave it at that. "but you want to. you should go without me." feeling bad that you were restricting him from doing the things he wanted.

he could only chuckle lowly. "don't be silly, angel. wouldn't go nowhere without you." he didn't realise it, but truthfully, it had been the most comforting thing you'd heard all week.

you'd had so much worry caught in your throat about going out and meeting people that you began to think you were weighing the others down, too. "but i feel bad." you mumbled, voicing your feelings to the only person you felt like you could.

carl was quick to shush you. "i was just suggesting, maybe another day. y'know, now that i think about it, i'm kind of in the mood for hot coco and a movie, what d'you say?" though he was already getting up from the bed.

you sat criss-cross legged on the bed, practically pouting at him. "you don't like hot coco." you informed him, knowing what he was getting at.

"why can't you just let me do something nice for my pretty girl, hm?" lifting out his hand to you and letting you take it.

carl would never force you to talk to anyone.

a couple more days in the new community passed and rick was beginning to get worried. of course, he knew you and carl weren't normal teenagers, you never would be after the things you'd experienced in your lives. but he wanted you to be as normal as could be, and that included at least trying to make friends.

obviously, the man hadn't picked up on the obvious anxiety that followed you like a dark cloud over your head. so, he made arrangements with the blonde woman who lived down the street who had a son about your guy's age. who had a girlfriend and another guy friend. rick thought there would be no harm in at least meeting them. and if you came back to the house, not liking them, then he wouldn't force you guys to go back.

simple.

or at least it should have been.

you were sure you were shaking like a leaf by the time you made your way to the white door from across the street. worried you'd be looked at oddly, you didn't hold carl's hand, though you stayed silent, behind him.

the woman, jessie anderson, let you in with a smile on her face.

then you met her son, ron. "so mikey and enid are upstairs waiting for us, got some cool games if you play."

"uh, sure." as much as carl wasn't the awkward type, he still felt sort of odd in someone else's house. perhaps that was because he never experienced the whole 'teenager sleepover' thing.

you followed carl up the stairs, staying eerily close to him. you heard ron talk, even crack a joke. carl laughed and made a joke back. but truthfully, their words fell on deaf ears for you. your eyes travelled around the house, glancing to the family portraits hanging and so on.

you didn't look back until ron opened his bedroom door, allowing you both in and shutting it again. "hey guys." a boy with black hair whipped around and the girl who was sat on the bed, comic in hand, didn't bother looking up.

"oh, hey." the boy didn't exactly say hi to ron, more so to carl and you.

"hi." the girl spoke, not so much as looking away from the pretty coloured pages.

"so, this is mikey." pointing to the black haired boy who nodded swiftly before turning back to the gaming console he'd been playing on. "and enid." the girl who finally glanced up, eyeing the two of you before nodding. "and guys, this is carl and... sorry, what was your name again?"

three pairs of oggling eyes on you. you felt your own eyes widen and your mouth part, a little dry. suddenly, your own name was caught in your throat.

"y/n." carl responded for you, loud and proud as if he'd wanted to boast about you. "her name's y/n." instinctively, you found yourself shuffling closer to the boy, trying to make yourself as unseen as possible.

you swore you didn't leave his side the entire time you spent there. he got comfortable on the ground, back against the bed while ron sat above you two, at the edge, mikey on the desktop chair and enid, now on her second comic.

"so, how long you two been together?" you glanced up at the sound of mikey's voice. he was a well put together boy, expensive sweater and a collared shirt beneath. you were suddenly thankful for carl's dirty boots, cowboy hat and loose flannels. "been third wheeling these two for like forever. i know a couple when i see one."

carl and ron both huffed out a laugh, you did not. "yeah, we've been together for like forever too." carl's head turned to give you a graceful smile, one that had your cheeks turning a light pink before smiling back ever so softly. "hey, where's the, uh, where's the bathroom?"

you were almost tempted to grasp his arm and tell him you were coming with.

"just out the hall, first door to the right." ron answered, without taking his eyes off the screen.

"thanks, man." carl's baby blue's turned back to your nervous face. "i'll be back in a second, okay?"

you nodded, though you could feel the colour drain from your face without even looking in a mirror. carl left as quickly as he could, deciding that the quicker he left, the quicker he would be back. "so..." ron voiced again. you suddenly wondered how much he liked the sound of his voice, seeing as he wouldn't stay quiet for longer than a full minute. "not much of a talker?" you nodded your head softly before hearing the loud crash on the video game, jumping a little. "jumpy too huh?" you breathed out a sigh, shying in on yourself.

"don't worry." enid voiced, only now choosing to speak. "you get used to the noise again."

this caused your head to spin, what was she talking about. and without even having to ask, ron answered your question. "enid was on the roads too. i heard your group was on the road for a while, how was it?"

how was it?

"scary." you answered shortly, turning backwards and feeling your hands become clammy.

if there was one thing you wanted to forget, it was the roads. every day, it seemed as though you were loosing someone else. every day, you faced death and it stared you back right in the eyes. panic would come over you, wheeze it's way through your lungs.

carl would always hold you back, close to him as he stabbed his way through walkers with the others. but even that was a comfort to none.

every day, you were living, wondering if it'd be your last.

"i'll bet. i couldn't imagine living without my xbox." he snorted before pressing the shooting button again and letting bullets fly. it was now that you wished carl was next to you again, at least then you could squeeze his hand 'til it turned purple.

you wondered if everyone here was that shallow. if everyone only worried about their xbox or their stupid assets that in the long run, meant nothing.

"so, what do you think about alexandria?" this time it was mikey who'd asked the question.

"scary." you huffed out again. "but a different kind of scary."

"intimidating." enid answered for you. "it'll be like that for a while but you get used to it, just like the noise." you could tell that she was one of the good ones. the ones who don't care about silly things like objects. you could tell she'd seen the horrors you had, too.

"thanks." you mumbled, sheepishly glancing down to your fingers.

soon enough, carl returned from the bathroom, catching onto your face full of anxiety. he excused you both, stating that his dad needed help rearranging furniture or something or other. stupidly enough, the others believed you and soon bid a goodbye.

when you left, it felt like you could finally breathe again. you let out a breath of relief, fluttering your eyes shut and opening them again. carl was careful to peer at your face. "what'd you think?"

"the girl's nice." you mumbled.

"yeah? think so?" you could only nod in response. "well that's good, maybe you guys'll become friends. and the guys?"

you shrugged. "ron talks a lot." this caused carl to grin, a laugh puffing out from his cheeks causing you to do the same. it was much easier to laugh when it was just you and carl, even after everything you two had been through. "did you like 'em?"

"i guess." he gently nudged his nose against your cheek. "nothing compared to you, though." you couldn't help but roll your eyes, pretty smile dancing on your cheeks.

you huffed out again, noticing the way your chest suddenly felt clear of knots. "that was scary." you spoke honestly.

carl nodded his head, understanding that it wasn't exactly your thing. "it'll get better, though. just takes some getting used to." you couldn't agree more. "you're just having a little trouble adjusting, that's all. but you got me, right?"

the boy's elbow nudged you causing you to giggle softly and lean against his shoulder. "yeah, i got you."

he pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your hair. "c'mon, let's go pick out another comic."

now that sounded like fun.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[fallenrocket]

My god, Cassian is just so young in season 1 of Andor. On this last rewatch, it kept jumping out at me everywhere. Especially at the start of the show, which makes sense--he goes through a pretty intense education over the course of the season and transforms before our eyes. But there's just so much in Cassian that comes from being young, traumatized, and desperate.

We see it in his moments of unabashed fear, like when he's stopped by the two corpos in the pilot, the first time he sees the TIE fighter fly past on Aldhani, or as the prison transport takes off for Narkina 5. Even when he tries to hide it, we can see it in his eyes, the parts of him that are still that scared kid from Kenari.

We see it in the chip he has on his shoulder, like the attitude he cops with Luthen in their first meeting: "I don't know you." He's not just guarded and distrustful, he kind of actively resents this guy trying to get too familiar with him. When he's scared, uncertain, or guilty, he tends to push others away, a product of having to fight most of his life and of losing many of the things and people he's cared about. I also think of him coldly telling Bix, "You won't have to worry about me anymore," at the end of their argument in "Announcement."

And yet, by the same token, he can also be surprisingly open and earnest in his affections. For me, this is most apparent in his scenes with Maarva in "Announcement." There, we see his naive optimism that the money he got from Aldhani can solve all their problems. He's so buoyant and hopeful and loving as he suggests running away, saying, "What do we need but the three of us?" Later in the episode, we see that same naivety when he insists, "We'll find a place they haven't ruined yet." But it crops up in other places too. On Aldhani, he chooses Clem's name as his pseudonym, even though he already realizes Luthen has a lot of intel on him and will probably recognize it--in that moment, his distrust of Luthen is outweighed by his desire to go into this dangerous mission carrying a small piece of his dad with him. Then there's that beautiful hug with Brasso in "Rix Road," especially those few extra beats past when you'd expect them to part. When he hugs Melshi in the previous episode, Cassian is rushed, on the brink of falling apart and not wanting Melshi to see. But with Brasso, Cassian needs that touch for a few extra seconds, and he's not afraid to hold on a little longer.

Most of Cassian's dumbest mistakes in the season are very youthful ones. He's an incredibly smart and observant guy, so he's not dumb very often, but when he is, it tends to come back to being young, traumatized, and desperate. We see this especially in the opening Ferrix arc: insisting on bringing an unsecured comm to his meeting with Luthen (oh my god, the way he bickers with B2EMO about them beforehand!) and trying to go back for the starpath unit when the shit hits the fan, even after Luthen repeatedly tells him to leave it. With the starpath unit, part of it is naivety--"What if it's just one guy left?"--and part of it is growing up poor and scrappy. This box represents more money than he's ever had at any one time, and he simply can't process the idea that his buyer would just leave it behind.

Finally, every now and then, Cassian has this subtle but impeccable "little shit" energy. We definitely see it when he messes with Timm in the pilot, deliberately goading him instead of trying to defuse the situation when he sees that Timm is jealous. It's a dumb, petty moment of cheap satisfaction that winds up with some intense blowback when Timm IDs him to Pre-Mor. And I love Cassian's refusal to give up on Kino on Narkina 5, always believing he can be brought into the fold no matter how many times Kino tells him to forget about it. It's a great reflection of how Cassian rejects the Empire's attempts to divide the inmates by pitting them against each other, but part of why he's able to keep at it is his annoying-kid tenacity. I love the scene where Kino brushes him off by saying how many shifts he has left and Cassian immediately responds with, "So...tell me what you know before you go."

It's simply wild to compare the Cassian we see in "Kassa" to the one in "Rix Road." He goes through so much in twelve episodes and really comes into his own, and it's fantastic to see some of the qualities he displays in Rogue One starting to peek through. He's already come so far in his character growth--I cannot wait to see how season 2 gets us from "Rix Road" to Rogue One!

Oh yeah, and Diego Luna is simply stunning. You can really feel how he traced Cassian's life backwards to this point, see how different the Cassian of "Kassa" is from the Cassian of Rogue One and yet still fully believe that this is the same character. All the little hints he drops, all the tiny moments where you can see Rogue One Cassian starting to gestate. It's such beautiful, brilliant work!

[crystalcatgamer]

F in the chat for T&T.

Papa Osvald- [falls to the ground and takes 10 damage] Also he's so goddamn ripped I'm cackling. He's ready to beat you up and take your stuff. Ice pops WRONG SNOW POPS

Festive comics -> what if all 16 travelers of both games spent the winter holidays together

Maybe more to come if college doesn’t wreck me

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper

[senualothbrok]

Oath of Devotion

Summary: When you accompany Karlach to Avernus after the defeat of the Netherbrain, you assume it is the end of your romance with Gale. But you have a lot to learn about the meaning of devotion.

An exploration of the power of love and friendship, featuring Professor Gale, Paladin Tav, Karlach and Wyll.

Word count: 6.6k

AO3 link

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Mild hurt/comfort.

A/N: This fic is dedicated to @dekariosclan, who wanted a story about a Tav who romances Gale but goes with Karlach to Avernus. I hope this hits the spot for you!

The dialogue in the scene at Withers' party is canon but for a few additions- you can watch it here.

Thank you again to @inglorionamy-ammy, beta reader extraordinaire.

She barrels into you when you hold it out. It is a ratty, one-eyed thing, as bruised and battered as you look on this winding road through death and destruction. But Karlach’s face lights up like you are offering her a gold-plated battleaxe, not an abandoned rag of a teddy bear.

“Mate!” she screeches, and you lurch at the tackling force of her embrace. “You shouldn't have!”

You cackle, because every time it is the same. As the heap of discarded and deformed teddies in her tent grows, each one anointed with a name and cherished place next to the inimitable Clive, so too does Karlach’s excitement. When you found her the first couple in a deserted shack - whimsically named Sasha and Roberto - you assumed that the novelty would soon wear off. But as usual, Karlach's enthusiasm knows no bounds.

“He's so cute!” She shrieks as she draws back from you, squishing the mangled thing against her cheek. “He looks like a Gary. Yeah. That's right. Gary. That's what we'll call him.”

She beams as she assigns Gary a sacred place within the mound of teddies in the corner of her tent. Peering inside, you chuckle at the chaos of weapons, armour and trinkets littered around her. She pats Gary proudly on the head as she returns to you. 

“Never gets old.” You mirror her grin. 

“You’re the best.” 

She gives you a quick squeeze. You ignore the way her skin sears yours in her elation - nothing that a simple healing spell cannot fix - and clasp her shoulder with a laugh. When she gestures towards the blanket laid out on the grass and the bottle of wine beside it, you nod keenly, bounding over to lay side by side, staring up at the stars. 

You have always been a traveller, journeying from place to place to follow whatever orders you received from the Justiciars of Tyr. Camping out under the bright expanse of the night sky is as familiar to you as breathing. The road has always been your home. 

It is not that you hated returning to the Halls of Justice, your headquarters in Waterdeep, where you spent most of your formative years. But over time, it has worn on you, the rigid, tight-lipped Tyrran priests, the narrow-eyed magistrates, knights and lords who were as joyless as they were harsh. It was not that you did not love Tyr, that you did not believe in truth and justice and law and order. It was not that you did not wish to defend and protect. You just could not see why you had to be so miserable while doing it.

You have never been the sombre, stick-up-the-arse sort, the type to inspire hushed envy. You have always had your feet firmly on the ground, quick to laugh, slow to put on airs and graces. You are straightforward, run of the mill. With you, what you see is what you get.

You are ordinary. Unremarkable.

So you have known, from the start, that you would never rise up the ranks. You know you will never be a Justiciar of Tyr. And though that harrowed you when you were young and wide eyed - so determined to bring honour and glory to your parents as they toiled away on their meagre farmstead - you find it amusing now. With the stench of the House of Hope still clinging to your pores, you and Karlach guffaw at Raphael’s ridiculous singing as you felled him, the crash of Yurgir falling to the floor like a drunken toddler as she delivered the killing blow. Though the threat of doom looms around every corner, the fate of Faerun hanging over you like a noose, joy burns within you with a ferocity that you have never felt before. You have never felt more alive, or less alone.

But when Karlach tells you, in a conspiratorial, slightly bashful tone, about how tenderly Wyll removed a stray leaf from her hair earlier, she suddenly halts. Her face contorts as she sucks in a sharp breath. Her hand flies to her chest. You jerk up, stiff with worry. 

“It’s alright.” She grits her teeth. “It’ll pass. It’s alright.”

Scorching tendrils pulse out from her chest, serrated cuts threatening to rip her apart. You grimace, your fingers sizzling as they rest on her arm. She curls into herself, braced against the onslaught. You feel frenzied, helpless. All you can do is wait. 

“Karlach,” you plead after a pause. “We need to get you to–”

“Don’t,” she chokes. “Don’t even say it.”

Her fire is hurting now. You cannot help but flinch back. “It’s getting worse. I can’t just watch you-”

“Tav.” Her eyes are dark wells, flickering with flame. You realise that she is crying from the pain. “Don’t ask me. I won’t go back. I’m never going back.”

You shake your head. It is an argument you have had with her before. You do not wish to see the glee in your friend’s eyes shatter into rage, to hear her breathless from anguish rather than laughter. You do not wish to tell her what she does not want to hear. But you cannot bear it. You cannot allow her to suffer when there is a solution within her grasp.

“Ten years,” she spits out. “Ten years in that fucking place, with nothing and no one to call my own.” A fine mist rises from her heart as tears trickle down her skin. “I would rather die than be alone again.”

You notice that the flare of her chest is dimming, her breaths levelling as her features soften. But her resolve remains, as unyielding as her goodness, her loyalty, her zeal for life. You would not change her, not for all the fame and glory in the realms.

In that moment, you want to promise her. You want to tell her that she would not be returning to Avernus alone. But your mind is flooded by indigo streaks across a blue-green sky, the sandalwood scent of a brown sea, the spell of stubble on your skin. And you cannot speak.

So you take her hand, and you do not let go, even when your skin begins to blister.

*****

“How in the hells did you get everyone to clear off for the night?”

You are still adjusting to the stillness of your room at the Elfsong Tavern. After the whirlwind of panting cries and thrown off armour, the lurching groans of the bed beneath you, the calm feels almost unnatural. 

Your head rises and falls on Gale’s chest as he laughs. You feel it as a low rumble through you, your arm draped over the muscled grooves of his abdomen. The damp down on his skin tickles your cheek as your fingers weave upwards through his tangled locks. You are drunk on the taste and scent of him, heady and bittersweet.  It is a crackling bonfire on the coldest of nights, a bottomless ache that rubs you raw. You cannot get enough of him. You do not know how you will survive a separation.

“I confess, I did have some help from Karlach and Wyll.” He chuckles. “The three of us can be very persuasive. As can a generous budget for evening entertainment.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.” 

You flick your tongue playfully over his nipple. He tenses, moans, tightens his grip on the cheek of your ass. All at once, you are ravenous. 

“I live to impress you.”  

The kiss starts as it always does, tender with longing, a gentle caress. And then you are all hunger and need, wanting and grasping and seeking, drinking from each other with a thirst that cannot be slaked. Drowning in the sea of him.

It scares you. The all-consuming demand of it, the fierceness of the passion that swallows you whole. The way the yearning blazes through every part of you, breaking down the barriers you have fortified between your mind, body and soul. How completely you want him, as though he is the answer to your every question. A feeling like no other, for a man like no other. 

You have always been wary of reckless abandon. It was a lesson you learned early on in your travels. Love was a recipe for disaster when you could not guarantee you would be alive from one week to the next, or predict the movements of your missions. Love was a privilege you could not afford. Temporary delights sated the cravings of your flesh. You told yourself that was enough.

And then you met him.

“I’ve never felt this way before.”

You are not sure why you say it. Perhaps it is your body speaking, wrapped up in him, caught in a drowsy lull, fleetingly sated. He has expressed his love for you countless times, but you have not yet used the word. You are not sure what love means, beyond the orb and Mystra and the Crown of Karsus, beyond the Netherbrain and the threat of the end of the world. You see no half measures, no deceit or reserve in him. When he speaks of love, he means it.

But who is to say his love is not formed from desperation? That it is not just gratitude at unexpected companionship, a compulsion to seize every moment for fear that it might be his last? If you defeat the danger that threw you together, how can you be sure his love will endure? That you will not return to your vastly separate lives, as though it were all just a passing reprieve?

He smiles, glowing with the sheen of sweat, soft and hard and magnificent. 

“Nor have I. And I never will again.”

His sincerity still surprises you. The openness of his gaze, like a clear horizon. You could lose yourself in the promise of his love. But you steel yourself. You remember who you are, the life you have led. He jumps on your hesitation. 

“Do you doubt me?”

You try to sound wry, teasing.  

“We’ve both been around awhile, Gale. You’ve had lovers before Mystra. You know your way around a bedroom.”

He tilts his head. “I can't tell if that's a compliment or a caveat.” His brow flickers, the beginnings of a frown. “Is that a cause for doubt, or…?”

“No. Yes. Well.” You look away, and when you meet his eyes again, you see that he is not fooled. Sometimes, it is unnerving to be known. To be seen. “What I’m saying is… you could have anyone you want. You did before, and you can again.”

You cannot bring yourself to mention the future. To ask, even implicitly, what will happen if you save the world and survive. If this is to be a pleasurable distraction, a momentary delight, then you would not want to ruin it. Yet somehow, the uncertainty is a thorn in your heart. It hurts to acknowledge it.

His eyes widen, as though he is stricken, almost offended. 

“And I want you. Only you.”

He cups your cheek. There is an urgency there. Under the intensity of his gaze, you feel vaguely embarrassed. You had not planned to show him this. Your doubt. Your vulnerability.

But it does not deter him. Inexplicably, you know it never would. 

“I love you, Tav.” His voice trembles with conviction. “I've never met anyone like you. You're…extraordinary. Extraordinarily beautiful. Extraordinarily strong. Extraordinarily kind, and wise.”

He pauses briefly, and the curl of his upper lip sends a roiling through your core. 

“Extraordinary in your…unique talents.”

Your eyelids flutter as his fingers whisper over your hip, settling just beneath your navel. The catch in his breath mirrors your own.

“I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you, and I'd wait a thousand more.” 

He says the words like they are easy. Like they are not oaths, solemn and harrowing - a sacrifice only made for the greatest reward. You struggle against them, and you are not sure why. You want to trust him, but you do not know how.

Because you have always suspected that love was never meant for the likes of you. The love Gale speaks of is the stuff of songs and sagas, fairytales of noble maidens, not gruffly scarred farmer's daughters who have made no mark on the world. And you know, with every fibre of your being, that Gale deserves immeasurably more than your mediocre offering.

Fear and hope flit across Gale’s features as he gazes at you, waiting. You know he wants you to reply. He needs you to tell him you feel the same. To declare that you love him with the same consuming constancy. That you are his, just as he is yours.

But you cannot speak. His turmoil pierces you, and you feel helpless, frenzied. So you crush yourself against him, and you answer with a kiss.

*****

You are grumbling at the rip in your breeches, your punishment for swinging at a rabid imp just a second too late. The sky is darkening like a blood clot. Karlach is jabbing at the caves in the distance where you will make camp, launching into ancient strategies and hoarded secrets. With her engine stabilised here, she is broader, defter, more self-assured. In spite of the smothering decay of Avernus, she radiates with life.

But you are exhausted. The stink of sulphur scours you, and you wonder if you will ever feel clean again. You long for the relief of lush greens and blinding blues, the caress of silk and softness. You miss the cool brush of the wind and sea. And beneath the murk and mire, a chasm has opened inside you that you struggle to ignore.

You are nodding and grunting as Karlach spitballs, and then you see it. A mangled lump by your feet. A soiled leather cover, clinging to shreds of charred vellum. You surge forward to pick it up.

“I reckon we'll be safe there tonight, but–”

Karlach stops, glancing over. “What?”

You sweep away the crust of dust and blood from its scorched surface. Nearby, a half-buried skeleton gapes in rotted robes. 

“A spell book. Useless now.”

Karlach stares at you. You can feel the weight of her appraisal as the memories assail you - dancing fingers and lavender lightning, intricate crow's feet adorning smiling eyes. Rumbling incantations, tingling on your skin.

You stuff the tattered tome into your pack and walk on.

***

You are flicking through the remains of the torched tome. In the glow of the dying campfire, you can just about make out the haphazard scrawl of its dead owner. You are disappointed by the sharp, messy strokes, so harsh and ugly compared to the elegant cursive you know so well. The sparse pages, devoid of elaborate diagrams and rambling annotations. Their emptiness winds you. Grief follows like a wave, and you fight against the shaking of your hands.

“Come on then, soldier. Out with it.”

You start at Karlach's voice. The force of her presence jars you back from the brink. When you look up, her eyes are firm and gentle at the same time.

“Out with what?” you blurt.

She huffs, picking at the carcass of the abyssal chicken you shared for supper. 

“Whatever’s got your goat.” 

Instinctively, you wave her away. But you gasp as she lurches forward, grabbing you by the shoulders. When you break free, she holds your gaze.

“You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, right?”

You are stunned by her unexpected seriousness. She waits, expectant, stubborn. You sigh. 

“Of course I do.”

Her brows steeple. “Then talk to me. Because if I have to go one more day seeing you this fucking miserable, my heart might actually break.”

You raise an eyebrow, your last defence. “We came here to stop that from happening.”

“Exactly!” She throws her hands up. “So ‘fess up.”

You shift awkwardly. You suddenly realise how difficult it is to speak about your feelings, even to Karlach. Not simple feelings like lust or anger, amusement or delight. Not the stuff of throwaway comments, wry banter or gushing anecdotes. Those things come as easily to you as your friendship.

No. What you cannot admit is the gaping hole inside you. How it felt to be cocooned in his embrace. The miracle of joining your soul to his, as though you had always been complete. The boundless warmth of him nestled inside you, flowing around you, melting into you. The ebb and flow of home.

You remember the anguished panic on his face, shadowed in the setting sun. The realisation in his searching eyes as you knelt beside Karlach on the docks, paralysed by choice. The tight line of his soft lips as you looked at him one last time, haunted by the ghost of that final, unclaimed kiss, of everything spoken and unspoken.

If you speak of these things, they will swallow you whole. And you are not sure you can endure that, even after all the battles you have survived.

“You can talk about him, you know,” she says, as though she can read your mind. As though you never needed a tadpole to understand each other.

“Who?” A knee jerk answer.

Karlach rolls her eyes. “Who do you think? Do you know another magic man with big doe eyes who can ride you into the astral plane?”

You grimace. On a drunken ramble back in Baldur’s Gate, you had described in detail to Karlach all the places and ways Gale had taken you. You will never live it down. 

“Admit it. You miss Gale. That's what's eating at you.”

Part of you wants to shrug her off, tell her to drop it. But you know the doggedness of Karlach’s loyalty, constant as the sun. She jostles you, a motion meant to reassure. Her nails rap loudly against her chest, a clattering echo around the darkness of the cave.

“When we've fixed this baby, we'll go home. I'll find Wyll, and you'll find Gale. It'll all work out. You'll see.”

She sounds so certain. Once again, you marvel at her stalwart optimism, unwavering through the most unimaginable cruelties. You feel almost ashamed to burst her bubble.

“Karlach, Gale and I aren't…” 

You gesture uselessly. Your chest heaves. 

“It's not like you and Wyll,” you manage. “You guys are practically married. You know he's waiting for you in Baldur’s Gate. He knows you'll go back to him when all this is done.”

“And?” She frowns. “How's that different?”

You look down at the spell book in your lap. A sliver of vellum dissolves into black dust on your fingers.

“I left, Karlach.” You sound defeated. Small.  

You watch as Karlach’s features tighten in thought, then widen in realisation. Sorrow twists on her face.

“Soldier,” she whispers. “I never asked for–”

You straighten immediately. “You didn't have to. I wanted to." Your voice swells as you clasp her arm. "You're my best mate, Karlach. My sister. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

For a moment, you think she might cry. Then she clutches you against her so tightly you can barely breathe. She does not smell of sandalwood and soap, but oil and sweat. And though her warmth is that of a blazing furnace and not the summer sea, you rest in it for a while. 

“He loves you, Tav." Her words are muffled by her embrace. "More than anything.”

“Maybe he did," you concede. "Maybe he was lonely, and horny, and scared. But I left. He’s probably given the Crown back to Mystra by now. She's probably taken him back.”

Karlach pulls back roughly. “You’re joking. You think Gale would go back to Mystra, after everything? After you?”

You shrug. “Well, if not Mystra, he could have his pick. Plenty for him to choose from.”

“I can't tell if you're being serious. Are you serious?”

She stares at you, incredulous. You draw in a shaky breath.

“It would never have lasted, Karlach."

You offer it as an explanation, but she seems more baffled than before.

“What in the hells are you talking about?”

An image of Gale comes to you unbidden. Poised and ready, all broad shoulders and billowing robes, threads of silver shining amidst the brown waves that frame his chiselled face. He flashes you that smouldering look, halfway between a smile and a smirk, as his lithe fingers whip up a storm in the distance.  

You toss the spell book on the ground.

"A man like Gale... a woman like me." Your jaw clenches. "What happened between us was a fluke. A blip for him. I probably did him a favour by leaving. No loose ends to tie up. Now he can move on. Greener pastures, and all that.”

Karlach stiffens and scoffs. “Now I know you can't be serious. Because my mate Tav isn't a total idiot who's completely lost the plot.”

You are taken aback by her uncharacteristic scorn. You are about to shoot back a reflexive retort when she halts. 

“Oh.” She blows out a long breath. “I get it.”

You twitch. “What now?” 

“It’s your blind spot." She nods smugly, as though she has cracked a puzzle. "Like how you drop your guard sometimes when you dodge.”

You do not follow. It does not escape Karlach's notice, the mounting frustration squirming beneath your skin.

“You can't see what's fucking obvious.” Her words are harsh, but her tone is placating. Patient. She sighs, heavy with affection. 

“Tav.”

There is tenderness in the way she leans forward, looking you straight in the eye. You cannot help but soften. To be mad at Karlach would be like fighting without your sword. You just cannot do it.

“This is a bloke who talked my ear off about how your armour brought out the green of your eyes.” She chuckles. “He just wouldn't shut up about you. How brave you are, how kind, how awesome you are. How the sun shines out of your arse. We used to leave him with Minsc just so we could have a break.”

She chortles, then notices your surprise. In mock defence, she raises her palms to you. 

“Look, I love Gale. You know I love Gale. And I adore you. But I really don't want to hear about your muscles bulging in the heat of battle. Or anywhere else.”

When you burst into laughter, Karlach beams.  

“Even Wyll couldn't take Gale's lectures. I think he even fell asleep once.” 

She bobs her head, lowering her voice into a husky baritone, her pointed finger wiggling in the air. 

“Do you have a minute? Because I need to tell you about how loyal and smart and caring Tav is. No, I must insist on telling you all about it. Now. Pish posh.”

You cackle, but you cannot stifle the ache that tears through you. What you would not give to have him here with you now, and not an absurd imitation.

“Gods, that man would not let up about you," Karlach groans. "Shadowheart almost threw up when Gale started talking about your musk. He almost melted Astarion’s brain, too, when he said your scars were ugly." 

You wish you had been there for these interchanges. You had no idea of them, beyond curiosity at Gale's unexpected affinity with Minsc. Now, the idea of Gale singing your praises and defending your honour makes you want to weep.

"A couple times, I even saw Lae'zel chuckle at the way Gale looked at you." She guffaws. "Lae'zel! Chuckling! She didn't even go off on one about istiks being pathetic. That's the power of love, right there.”

You are staring at your trembling hands. A whirlwind of hunger, hurt and hope is gathering inside you. You do not know what to do with it. 

Karlach is silent for a while. When she speaks again, her voice is solemn as a promise.

“He loves you, Tav. That kind of love doesn't just go away.”

'I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you,' he had said, 'and I'd wait a thousand more.' You wrestle with the weight of his words, the weight of hers. You shake your head.

“I never told him, Karlach. I never got to say….”

The tears choke you. All at once, you cannot think, cannot speak. She takes your hand, and she does not let it go.  

“We'll fix me up, and then you can tell him. You can tell him everything.” 

**** 

“So you came back.”

His gaze darts away from you, his hands clasping and unclasping. He looks as nervous as you feel, stooping awkwardly to greet you like a half-stranger. But in the haze of candlelight, buoyed by the heavenly breeze of meat and mead and flowers, he glows. He is just as you remember him, a vision in purple and gold. Your every longing and memory made flesh.

“You look well.” He shuffles, a halting smile quivering on his lips. “A little singed around the edges, but well.”

You have never before felt self-conscious in his presence. But standing before him now, so close you could reach out and touch him, you are ashamed. You are embarrassed by your dented armour, your torn and dusty boots. Having just narrowly survived a group of cambions sent by Zariel, there had not been time for you and Karlach to primp and preen - not that the two of you ever wasted energy on that. You could not have leapt faster through the portal back to Faerun to answer Withers’ summons.

Appearances never mattered to Gale. He always saw through to the heart of a person, finding beauty in the alignment of a soul. It is one of the things you love most about him. But tonight, as the strange stiffness between you expands, you find yourself fretting over the bunching of your braids, your unpainted eyes, the fresh scars on your arms.

“So do you, Gale.”

Your voice is strained. Every muscle in your body yearns to spring forward, to talk to him with touch. But he stands apart, worlds away. Perhaps he is beyond your reach, after everything that has passed between you.

At the corner of your eye, Karlach throws her arms around Wyll’s neck with a squeal. You turn to watch as she lifts him up, twirling him around to a chorus of hoots and whistles. You grin and clap as they collapse into each other. You hear Gale chuckling behind you, that most soothing of sounds. 

When you turn back, there is a moment when you simply gaze at him. You notice the empty canvas of his chest, laid bare by the tantalising dip of his richly embroidered doublet. Freedom, plain and pure, radiates from the unmarred plane of his bronze-kissed skin.

You think of all the times you traced the mark of the orb with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, pressing your love into his wounds, covering them with the balm of your desire. Is it recognition that glimmers in his eyes as they meet yours? Yearning? 

He clears his throat. Perhaps not.

“I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Not sure where to begin.”

For months, you have imagined what you would say to him. All the doubts you would lay down, all the things you would confess. In the silence of your loneliest nights, you prayed and pleaded with Tyr for a second chance, promising, with a resolve as strong as your Oath of Devotion, that you would not waste it.

But now that he is here, words fail you. What you want, in this instant, is to listen. To hear the resonant song of his voice, the lilting passion of it. To soak in the gentle earth of his eyes, the gossamer lines of delight and wisdom that dance on his face. To bask in the miracle of him.

“Why don't you start at the beginning?” you ask.

He tilts his head. Then his jaw clenches, as though he is bracing himself.

“I promise I've not been moping around waiting for your return.” 

It jolts you, the hint of bitterness. You have hurt him, and maybe there can be no second chances after that. Perhaps you cannot make amends for who you truly are. 

But then his voice drops. His brow arches ever so slightly. There is the ghost of that sideways smile that has always driven you wild.

“Though of course I longed for it.”

It takes you a moment to register it. He longed for your return. Waited. Slowly, mercifully, he begins to tell you about his life at Blackstaff Academy. You savour the familiar enthusiasm that snowballs as he speaks, the lively flurry of his hands, a secret language in itself. When you learn that he is a Professor of Illusory Magic, hear him extol the manifold wonders of imagination and lament the ineptitude of his apprentices with wry affection, you grin so widely that your cheeks ache. 

You have always believed in Gale - his stout heart, girded with goodness, his keen mind, honed as the sharpest blade. It has always been your greatest hope for him - to see him content with the man he is, no longer shackled to a mirage of the man he should be. If this is the end of the road, if a stilted goodbye is all that lies between you now, it would be a torment. An agony you will carry with you for the rest of your days. But there is no doubt in your mind. You would suffer any pain for his peace. His happiness. 

It is like you are old friends when he asks about your time in Avernus. You tell him about the endless hoards of hunters trailing after you,  the running count of kills that Karlach insists on keeping (she is currently leading by three). He shares your disgust with what passes as food in the hells, your excitement about the blueprints you found. When you tell him about Zariel’s forge, where you and Karlach are heading to fix her heart, you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he furrows his brow. You explain that Karlach is making inroads with one of Zariel’s guards, an old acquaintance of hers who thrives on chaos. Now, it is just a matter of biding your time before you make a move. 

You are struck, again and again, by how much you have missed Gale’s laugh. The brightness of his discerning eyes. The plump arc of his lips curving into a grin. Lost pieces of yourself, restored for a fleeting night.

“I almost feel sorry for the devils in your path.” He smirks. “I mean, I don’t, of course. I’m sure they deserve it.” 

He leans forward. As the wind weaves through his hair, you catch the notes of leather, scrolls, and sandalwood. Home. You breathe deeply, storing up his scent. You do not ever want to forget it. 

“I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know?” 

Something reverberates inside you. Dimly, you recall the weariness in your parents’ eyes when you returned to their farm on your thirtieth birthday. “Not a Justiciar, no. Still just an ordinary Paladin.” When, a few steps down the dirt track on the day of your departure, you turned back to wave goodbye, they had already scurried back into the house. Relieved to see the back of you, to be done with yet another disappointment in the ceaseless toil of their lives.

But Gale looks at you with pride, a kind of awe. A hero, he says. Extraordinary, he once called you.

“I'll be delighted to introduce you to them when you return. That is, if you wish to return to Faerun. Or to me.”

There is a fullness in his gaze now. The brown flame that flares is unmistakable. It is a swollen, throbbing desire that roils through you, a desperate mirror of your want.

He waits. For all this time, he has waited. Standing together where it all began, surrounded by the symphony of those you cherish most, you see him so clearly. The depths of his devotion. The boundlessness of his love. His need and hunger, wrestling against his fear.

There is so much you want to tell him, so much of your soul you wish to lay bare. It is not too late, you realise. If you open yourself to him, he will embrace you, as though there is no past, no future. Only the endless horizon of the astral sea.  

“I want nothing more, Gale,” you whisper.

He heaves, a burst of relief, disbelief, elation. His whole body seems to vibrate, beaming with the bliss of a burden lifted, a mystery finally solved. The glorious end to a grueling journey, a terminus for which he has fought tooth and nail, trusting, against all odds, in a home where you would both come to rest. And when he steps forward, reaching out to you, you drift towards him like a star falling back to earth.

But then it seizes you. You stop in your tracks, bowled over by a compulsion to protect. An urge to throw yourself before him like a shield. This man, who has sacrificed and suffered for you. This marvel of a man, who deserves nothing less than the full measure of you. You cannot take away the victory he has won, against all odds, over the demons of his history. You cannot jeopardise the peace he has laboured so hard for. You could never forgive yourself.

You force yourself back.

“Zariel knows we're coming.” Your voice breaks. “She has an army guarding the forge.”

Gale’s features freeze in shock, the anticipation of pain. Your withdrawal is a blow. To hurt him so soon after hope - it is unbearable. But you must protect him. You cannot take the risk.

"We might not make it in. Or out. I don't want you to…I can't let you…”

He searches your face. You push out the words - a guttering plea, woefully inadequate.

“I might not make it back, Gale.”

There is a twisting in his face, a faltering as he considers you. Then his eyes widen, blazing with sudden understanding. He huffs, a gentle half-laugh, brimming with affection. It throws you, and when he speaks, his tenderness reminds you of all those nights when you lay beside him, wanting for nothing.

“Your caution is warranted. But believe me, I know enough about divination to promise you that our future is one worth looking forward to.”

You stare at him. Divination? Has he sought out your future, while he yearned for your return? Can it be that he has seen it, the two of you living as one, the answer to every prayer you feared to offer up to Tyr? Your breath hitches. 

“A crackling hearth. Two cosy armchairs beside it. A bottle of wine to be poured. And your battleworn boots, discarded at long last by the door. That is the life we have waiting for us. Believe in it, and it will come.”

You can almost see it. The fine veins of his forearm flickering as he turns a page. His moist lips tingling on your fingers as they trail through his beard. Beads of sweat like pearls, settling into the nook of his clavicle, shadowed in the firelight.

Desire takes you like a flood. You can no longer resist the tide of his resolve, the smouldering embrace of his certainty. All of your questions, all of your doubts, dissolve like mist as he strides towards you. 

His closeness is a spell. You are enthralled by the whisper of his hair against your temple, the caress of wine on his breath. The bold curve of his nose ghosts over yours, luring you closer. All at once, you are dizzy, falling into him. He draws back, teasing and playful, and when he laughs, you grab hold of him and crush your lips on his.

And then, all you can feel and smell and taste is him.

*****

He is stooped over his desk at the front of the lecture hall. Framed by intricate oak walls and animated portraits of Blackstaff legends, the fervent undulations of his cursive on the chalk board behind him, his beauty takes your breath away. His hair is longer now, lighter, adorned with gleaming clusters of white-grey. He is leaner, sharper at the edges, but somehow more solid. More true.

Squinting into a mass of scrolls, he is in a world of his own, muttering and gesturing to himself, a mixture of irritation, confusion, determination. Even from the back of the room, you can make out the wrinkle of his thinking line, that most endearing of expressions. You chuckle.

He barely glances up at the sound. He calls out with a practised weariness, a sternness that you have never heard before but instantly relish.

“If you're here for the lecture on the nature and use of simulacrums, you are disgracefully, appallingly late–”

He jerks his head, his gaze finally lifting towards you. When his eyes meet yours, he lets out a gasp that lurches through his shaking frame. And then he is sprinting, leaping through the rows of chairs, hurtling into you like a flaming comet.

Your bodies weave together, clutching, seeking, finding. His hot tears, his juddering breaths, the frenetic beating of his heart, echoing and melting into yours.

“You're back.” He cups your face, pressing his forehead to yours. “You came back.”

You lean into his touch, ravenous for more. All this time, believing you could not love him, doubting he could feel the same - now, all you want is to fill yourself with him. The musk of soap and bookdust, the taste of coffee and salt, the heat of his thrumming muscles flush against yours. You are dissolving into a flurry of kisses, each one more eager than the last, sealing your promise against his tear-streaked skin. You do not hold back. You will never hold back again.

“I love you, Gale,” you pant. “I've loved you since the day we met. I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you, and I'd wait a thousand more.”

The awe and wonder in his eyes reflects your own. He is quivering, letting out tiny sighs of jubilation. As his fingers dance up your chest, your neck, the knots of your braids, you tremble under his touch, grinning at the certainty that you will never again go without it. 

“Where's Karlach?” he murmurs into your hair, as you run your nose over the stubble on his jawline, savouring the rough and smooth of him.

“She's headed for Baldur’s Gate to find Wyll. She’s promised to visit us as soon as they can.” You draw back. “That is, if you want me to stay here, with you.” 

He huffs, amused, incredulous. His fingers find yours. Time stands still as he raises your hand to his lips. When he plants a kiss along the scarred ridge of your knuckles, it has the passion and devotion of an oath.

“I want you to marry me,” he breathes.

You look at him for a long time. You will never tire of the sight. Yours is a love that will last a lifetime, a love greater than any legend or saga, stronger than any fairytale. This man, this miracle, forever yours, just as you are forever his. You have no doubts about it now.

Joy burns within you, a fire in your soul that will never fade.

You laugh, and you answer with a kiss. 

*********

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[creativepromptsforwriting]

Exes to Lovers Masterpost

Dialogue Prompts

"I'm sorry for how it ended." "I'm sorry that it ended at all."

"Do you still have place for me in your life?"

"Three years was not enough to get over you."

"We'll always find our ways back to each other."

"I couldn't stop loving you, even if I tried. And I did try for some time. But it didn't work."

"Seeing you again brought everything back."

"It was a mistake to just go away. We should've fought more for what we wanted." "We are doing it now."

"Being back in your arms is everything I wished for since we broke up."

"I can't believe you would actually take me back."

"Do you have any idea how much I wished to take it back? To just go to your house and apologize?" "I would have waited for you. I did wait for you. Even if it took some time, you are here now."

"I shouldn't have ever let you go away. I need you by my side."

"The fight we had was so stupid and breaking up was irrational."

"We work much better as a team."

"I don't ever want to lose you again."

"It was the right thing at the time. We weren't ready for it." "Do you think we are now?" "Yes, absolutely."

"People called me crazy for letting you get away. And they were right."

"I will never let you go again."

"We were both so hurt that we didn't see how much the other one was hurting. I hope that we're now able to look past that and be able to heal together."

"Honestly? I never stopped loving you."

"Let's never break up again. Ok?"

Text Prompts

Having broken up, but still living in the same area they keep running into each other. At the park, the grocery store, the laundromat, … everywhere.

They are still in the same friend group and they want to make it work as friends. But hanging out all the time makes it hard to get over each other.

Person A moves to another apartment and finds some of Person B’s, their exes’ stuff while moving and the former lovers meet up for the first time since the break-up to exchange the goods.

While not having adopted it together, Person A’s pet becomes miserable after Person B stops being over, so finally they have to arrange for a meeting in a park, like two divorced parents.

They are still each other's emergency contact. Which becomes apparent when one of them ends up in the hospital.

Having their car breaking down by the side of the road is bad enough. Their ex being the one to come save them is even worse.

They had already booked everything for their friends' destination wedding before they broke up. To celebrate them and not lose their deposits they decide to still share the hotel room.

Person A’s family still invites Person B to all of their family events. And Person B actually goes.

They bought tickets for their favourite band’s concert one year in advance. It’s been a few months since their break-up and they believe the emotions have calmed down a bit, so they decide to still go together when the time comes. But maybe they don’t have calmed down that much, when their song comes on.

They know each other best. Even after their break-up their ex is still the first person they want to call when something good or bad happens.

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[crystalcatgamer]

Argh love love love Osvald in this one in ways I cannot articulate. Partitio sums up part of it though.

⚠️ Minor ot2 spoilers, TW blood

Good golly this was hard af. I've never drawn full-detailed comic pages and while making this, I'm basically just rummaging through my brain trying to remember the vibe of the comics I had read waaay long ago 😂

And so, please forgive the subpar quality. My confidence was dwindling with every panel I drew lol and I have mixed feelings about the result. It was still fun tho, and I love some parts a lot, so overall I'm pretty happy with it!

[urf1lterr]

afterglow | pedro pascal [1/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 6.8k

status: 1/3 complete

author's note: i actually started this weeks ago but never had the chance to finish. hope you guys like this short one shot even though its gonna be two parts lol. not edited.

"Quick! Spray her hair some more! We need to make sure there's no flyaways," your manager demanded to your assistant, handing over a large can of hairspray.

Objecting, you swat it away making her gasp. "Too much will make me look greasy."

Here you were, all dressed up in your tight corset red dress in the back of some SUV one of your assistant's ordered being a nervous wreck.

If it wasn't for the two shots you had taken before, you were sure you would have fainted right about now. It was your first time attending the notable award show nominated.

And alone.

You did attend the past two years; however, you always had your boyfriend near from a distance as you walked down the red carpet and participated in interviews.

Well, ex boyfriend. But that's irrelevant now.

Of course you knew your team would be three steps behind you majority of the time, but it wasn't going to be the same knowing you had to sit alone for most of the show, especially since you were nominated.

Not that you knew you would win, you were up against women who dominated the screen year after year while you recently got your first big lead after so many years. But it was indeed a huge honor to even come to this point as you knew this might never happen again.

Pulling up to the main entrance, you could hear how loud the fans and paparazzi were through the thick, tinted windows. Your driver quickly jumped out of the car before rounding his way to yours, swiftly opening it, the chilly air instantly making you shiver.

Gulping, you try to hide any signs of fear in your body by smiling widely and immediately directing waves and bows to the crowd as your manager was right behind your ear, constantly informing you on how quicker you needed to be.

You were finally able to get rid of her when another worker offered their hand to you, ushering you to the main carpet for your pictures.

Taking a deep breathe, you are instantly dragged to a spot to start your first poses, doing the same angles- hands on hip and shifting of head- which the paparazzi demanded you do, as you followed down the long path.

Already in the middle of the walkway, you move your arms behind your back as you send a warm smile before hearing another roar from fans. Glancing to your side, you fight the urge to scoff knowing damn well you'd wake up to news outlet making headlines over it.

You just found it incredibly annoying the massive attention being displayed over nothing.

It just so happened that your infuriating ex thought it would be a brilliant idea to make his mark on the carpet right after you. Mentally sighing, you tried finding other things to plant in your head to stop you from cursing him out.

You were not going to let him get to you, especially not on your special night.

Once you came down the end of the road, you were met with your team again before being thrown into a line for interviews.

"If it makes you feel any better," you heard your assistant move up to your ear, whispering as you were neatly fixing the large necklace draped around your neck. "He was totally checking you out."

Backing your head away from hers, you give you a gross look as she shrugged. "Don't make me barf before the show even starts."

One thing about you assistant, she's been with you since the very beginning. From your first agency, she had been assigned to you until she was forced to cease the partnership as you changed companies. So she did that, but with her original company and took the move with you.

She says it's because that's what friends do, you think it's because of the increase in pay.

Since following you around for years, she witnessed all the shy, awkward, romantic, and crying stages of majority of your relationships.

Most certainly remembering the last one real well.

Him being your first love didn't make it any better as it led to you breaking down over the silliest things for months when you should've been moving on.

But every time there was a chance it was understandable to mention his name, your assistant wasted no time trying to make him stuck in your head.

Let's just say she believed what you two had was...special.

Blocking out the rest of her remarks, knowing where she was headed, you get called into an interview. Mentally groaning, it was always the same old questions every year that bore you to death.

How are you? Who are you wearing? Are you in a relationship?

You would always reply truthfully until it came to the last part. Your ex didn't mind publicly announcing it, basically pleading for its unveil anytime you two went out.

You on the other hand disagreed. Being a prominent actor himself, you knew the media would slowly take a toll and make your relationship harder.

This theory often left the two of you fighting constantly for many months, committing cruel and nasty jabs to one another before calling your almost three year-old relationship quits.

That was 10 months ago, tonight being the first time you'd be in the same room since screaming unholy words to each other's faces, throwing fragile objects in all directions before he stormed out of your home, never coming back.

Well, you did change all the locks that same night.

But long story short, only family and friends knew about your relationship from start to finish. Fortunately with that, you didn't have to deal with fans freaking out over the two of you being near one another.

Save that for Austin Butler and Vanessa Hudgens.

Forming a proud smirk, you beam back to the interviewer as she pushed a mic up your mouth. "I'm actually seeing someone."

Gasping, the interviewer looked at the camera in shock, trying to keep her audience engaged, before stepping closer. "Who's the lucky man- or woman?! We don't discriminate." You could hear the fans in the back cheering as more celebrities were passing by. "And just how long have you been keeping your lover locked up?"

'Lover', really?

Faking a grin you knew she thought was believable, you wave your hand in front of her. "He's not ready to be discovered quite yet, he's a little shy-," you wink to the camera as she squeals. "-but 9 months next week."

Ending the conversation with her wishing your nomination and 'relationship' the best of luck, you walked off to find your assistant giving you a disappointed look. "What?"

"Why would you do that?"

Shrugging, you move a strand of hair over your shoulder. "It's not that serious, maybe it'll gain me more publicity."

You didn't care for the attention, you just wanted to find a way to prove that you were moving on in life- for your fans at least. Even if it was a lie and you were still the same person you were 10 months ago.

She just stood there, making her silence loud and clear that she was not by the very least happy. Deep down you knew it was a low move to pull, but it's not like you did it in front of your ex.

Maybe the news will spread tomorrow when you don't have to breathe in the same air as him. Better for you, nonetheless.

"I love your dress," you heard someone praise you as you were in search for your seat. Turning, you were met with your familiar red-head friend. "It really compliments your eye look."

Smiling, you bowed to the famous Jessica Chastain, another actress you met a handful of times.

As the two of you reached out to one another a couple of times, you were indeed introduced by your ex as his close friend was actually a lead in a series with her.

"I could say the same for you, that necklace is breathtaking," you gush as she waves off your warm acclaim.

"I see we're sitting next to each other," she grins ear to ear, gesturing towards the seats nearby. "Good, now I won't have to only talk to my husband during the commercial breaks."

That's how the remaining half an hour went by, catching up on one another's life before the lights slightly dimmed, signaling the start of the award show.

Opening with Jimmy Kimmel's monologue, you quietly giggled from all the jokes he presented, especially the one about Pauly Shore you were sure he would take personally.

Towards the end of his act, you notice the act of violence come up, obviously referring to last year's fallout with Chris Rock and Will Smith, before he started acknowledging popular film heroes across the room.

You slightly jump as his first victim was Michael B. Jordan, exposing you and Jessica in the back trying to jump out of from the camera view but poorly failing, making the people near you laugh.

It wasn't even 30 seconds later before you heard the mention of an all too familiar character being called out, your ex boyfriend in his thick black glasses appearing on the big screen while acting tough to the lens.

Oh, how you used to love those glasses.

But you did notice another person making a small presence in the corner, causing you to pause for a moment. You were sure you'd seen this individual walking pass you down the row to his located seat.

Turning your head to see where this stranger was, your eyes instantly locked with the one person you hoped you wouldn't be near. How had you not have known he was literally sitting behind you- well, three people diagonal from you but same thing.

He was still behind you.

What made things worse was the fact his sister was right by his side, sending you a warm smile as you quickly turned your head forward, not daring to move an inch the entire show it if meant you didn't have to face his gaze again.

Continuing your attention on the stage, you didn't notice the set of eyes burning your side. In fact, that spilt second you did notice him, you didn't take account of the way his expression softened in heartfelt- eventually breaking once the swift turn of your discomfort became apparent.

It seemed you truly were disgusted by him.

But once the act was over, you felt Jessica lean over to you. "Definitely rooting for you," she lightly squealed. "If the nerves get to you, hold my hand."

You send her a questionable look. "For what?"

"Your nomination, silly," she giggled as your eyes widened. That was happening now? The memo you were given weeks ago said opposite. "Best Supporting Actress is up next!"

"But I was told it wouldn't be announced till the second hour."

She sends you a uncertain shrug, not sure what to say. There must have been a last minute change to the line up- which was totally fine, but you were not prepared for your nerves to hit.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you rub your hands together as you see the production team walking near the stage for the upcoming selection. You couldn't at least get a commercial break?

As the lights started dimming and the crowed cheered, you could see the two presenters make their way to the middle of the stage before the clips of films played.

Cringing, you jump and quickly close your eyes as you saw yourself on the gigantic screen. It's very weird watching yourself act out a character, which is why you avoid it at all costs.

Especially the crying scenes- you always thought of Kim Kardashian's crying meme whenever your tears were on the screen.

Your ex would say otherwise, constantly praising you every chance he had when you would appear on a film, claiming you had such a passionate aura when you expressed yourself. Often following with his additional, "it's what made me fall in love with you."

Swaying your neck, you try to clear your mind. Fuck your thoughts for daring to think about him in such a crucial moment.

Wishing for time to fly by quicker, you completely zone out as the wait seemed longer than usual. It also didn't help that the camera was zoomed up to your face trying to capture your reaction to this nerve wracking milestone.

You let out a sigh of relief as another actress, Jamie Lee Curtis, was awarded- thrilled that you didn't have to go up and make a dreadful speech that surely wouldn't be planned.

"Why do you seem thankful?"

Turning to Jessica, you send her a chuckle. "I probably would've fallen down the stairs if I did win," you declare as she rolls her eyes. "Plus, the other nominees had more of a lively feel with their roles than me- they deserved it more."

The rest of the show did seem to fly by smoothly. There was the segment where your ex did have to present an award in which you were forced to pull a contented face in case any random camera caught you.

He seemed nervous, but he did do well considering the room was filled with remarkable individuals- it was very intimidating to say the least.

But you weren't ever going to tell him that.

Standing up and patting your dress down, you quickly excuse yourself in search for your assistant during the intermission. You really needed to touch up your makeup and she was the only who had your powder in her bag.

Walking near the side of the stage, you slip through a door and make it to the backstage area where most celebrities' teams were scattered around, trying to be useful and take hundreds of pictures.

"There you are," you smile as you catch a glimpse of her bright red hair from the corner of your eye near a wall. "I really nee- uhm"

You halt as you were met with the same presence of the man who battered your heart and left it to rot months ago. The one who caused the constant breakdowns in your car after every Starbucks run from the frequent trips you two used to share.

The one who left you stranded for his ex.

"Oh, hey!" your assistant beamed while you just gave her an agitated expression, trying your best to stay calm and collected before you became the opposite. "You're not supposed to be here- the show is still go-"

"I need my powder," you grit your teeth, causing her to suck in her lips by your noticeable anger.

Quickly reaching to her bag and unzipping it, you tried ignoring the amused expression your ex was portraying as he leaned up against the wall in hope you would spare him a glance.

You didn't.

Placing the product in your hand, she shakily reaches out to you. "Here, I can take it once you're done w-"

"I'll hold on to it," you dryly cut her off, swiftly turning your back to them before speed walking towards the door you came in from. All you wanted to do now was sit through the remainder of the awards and sleep on the car ride home.

But of course things never went your way.

Hearing loud footsteps of shoes, you feel a gush of wind hit you as a person barged their way in front of you, causing you to stop your movements. "You didn't have to be so harsh on her, you know?"

Holding back your laughter, you mock him. "Harsh? What's so harsh about doing your job?"

He releases a wary look, knowing you would never act like this unless something was bothering you.

Sadly, he knew he was that something- or somebody.

"I was the one who went up to her," he explains, trying to defend her from your future wrath. "She was only kind enough to stay-."

"I don't care what my workers do when I am not around," you cut him off, glaring at him. "Nor you."

With that, you make your exit before he could further justify himself. In reality, you were upset she was talking to him, but you knew he must've started the conversation and could understand why she stayed.

But what really hurt was the fact you knew deep down she believed you were in the wrong as to why you resented him. Maybe the sight of the two of them triggered your feelings, but for a person who's never sat down and heard both stories she was not one to have any say as to how you should feel.

Sitting down on your seat, Jessica sends you a worried look by how fast you strutted back as if you were running away from something- your past. Returning a reassuring one, you steer clear from the body walking through the aisle as they eyed you down, ultimately brushing your backside as they shuffled to their located seat.

Goosebumps arose all over from the split-second contact. For such short contact, it was sure as hell strong as his warmth hit you.

Straightening your posture, you exhale lowly, trying to compose yourself. You don't want anyone thinking you seemed triggered or anxious because you weren't. And you were going to prove it, making it your best interest to stop thinking about all the unnecessary issues in your life and let loose a bit.

And that's exactly what you did.

"I think I broke my toe," you whine, hopping on your right leg as one hand held onto your left ankle. "How am I going to dance now?"

"That's enough shots for you," you heard Florence exclaim, quickly taking the small cup away from your right hand as you huff, trying to fight back.

It was no use, once determined you knew there was no stopping her from doing her thing.

"Give her a bottle of water and she'll come back to life," you heard Shailene suggest as you tried your best to stay balanced.

After the award show you swear you were going to go straight home until a certain somebody caused you to flip your plans around and party.

That somebody being Andrew Garfield.

"Why end all the fun so early?" you hum, finally feeling your feet numb from the pain and standing better. "The party is just starting!"

Swaying your arms crazily as your hips were rocking in all directions, Shailene's laughter fills your ears as you miss Florence's disturbed stare.

Your dancing was not a pretty sight to see.

"It started almost three hours ago!" Shailene called out over the blaring music that was playing on the dance floor. You were sure it was some EDM song until you took a notice of the familiar lyrics.

Instantly freezing, your friends stop in worry as your body movements halt. Slowly pointing your finger up in the air, you gasp. "Is this Ciara?!"

Feeling a body collide with yours, an arm immediately wrapped around your shoulder. "Oh god! I couldn't find the bathroom, they have like 20 rooms here" Andrew complained, out of breath. "I almost pissed myself!"

Florence walked in front of you two, taking his cup away from him as well. "And no more drinking for you, too. Sir."

Weeping and pulling a despairing pout, his shoulders fall. "Aw c'mon, I wasn't even dri- holy shit, is this Ciara?"

Excitedly jumping up and down, you rapidly nod as he cheers along, both of you fan girling to the iconic song choice. Your other friends just stared, not quite sure what your next actions would be.

Pulling away from you and gently pushing people to the side, Andrew began forming a circle as you giggled in your hand by how energetic he was becoming.

The large opening caught the attention of the other attendees who began walking over to see what all the commotion was.

"You're causing so much-"

"Shush! I'm about to do my 1, 2 step!" Andrew placed a hand to Florence's face, ignoring her parenting skills before swinging his body smoothly to the middle of the circle.

'I shake it like Jello, make the boys say hello 'cause they know I'm rockin' the beat'

Cringing hard, your two sober friends began covering their faces as Andrew allowed the dance floor to acknowledge his presence.

Soon enough, the crowd got bigger as guests began vibing to the rhythm, eventually making the space and air around you hotter.

'I know you heard about a lot of great MC's but they aint got nothing one me'

Constantly tripping over your heels, which you knew would reveal fucked up feet tomorrow, you find Florence and leap to her side, watching as her once stern expression was slowly forming into a grin.

She could never stay annoyed for too long, her lively personality forbid it.

"Because I'm 5 foot 2, I wanna dance with you and I'm sophisticated fun!" you hear someone beside you scream as you followed along, wrapping your loose arms around hers as the two of you begin twirling through the crowd.

Behind your drunken state, you just knew your sober-self tomorrow was going to be praying no one records your embarrassing moves.

The song seems to end faster than what you had anticipated, going from the funky beat to a familiar pop one which made you happier.

Shrieking in joy, Andrew jumped back to Florence and you once realization filled his ears. "I'm about to fucking go insane right now! This son-" stopping, he turned his head to find someone swaying right beside him before leaning towards their ear. "This is your song!"

Bursting out in laughter, you see the devoted artist agree to the obvious note he had made.

"Sorry about him," you intervene, your words coming out in slurs. "He's a dedicated Swiftie...as well as me," you squeak and watch as she waves her hand in appreciation.

God, if only you could see how badly you were humiliating yourself in front of the legendary Taylor Swift.

Not being able to begin your upcoming requests on scoring some of her sold-out concert tickets, you were dragged back onto the dance floor by your very hyper dance partner.

'I knew you were trouble when you walked in, so shame on me now'

Walking closer to get a better look at you two, Shailene's eyes widened as the song continued. "He better not-"

"Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground!" Andrew sung, falling on his knees with his head back. Following after him, you sink to the ground in despair as others continued screaming the lyrics over and over again.

Everybody's a Swifite.

Getting back up by the help of Shailene, you begin to serenade her as Taylor's famous lyrics start catching up. Expressing a face of sorrow and grief, you dramatically chant.

'And the saddest fear...'

But with the crowd of people pushing their way through, your vision ends up falling upon another person- one you were sure you would've avoided if you weren't as plastered as you were now.

'Comes creeping in...'

A sudden harsh push has you involuntarily making your way to your target, you accidentally pushing their shoulders back as they halt their movements, surprised you were even giving them any bit of regard in public until they realized what had happened.

Oh god, how can you be in this situation with a sad Taylor song playing. How ironic.

Noticing the sufferable look of discomfort forming upon your features by his proximity, he tries taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you from the rough crowd but you rejected his hands.

'That you never loved me or her'

Giving him one tough push of his chest, which was incredibly hard by how weak the night has made you, his face filled with hurt at the sight of your developing teary eyes.

You couldn't help it, all the memories of your relationship began flooding your mind. The laughs, the love, the arguments- and in this moment you weren't stable enough to contain your true feelings towards him.

Trying to reach back out for you, your ex steps forward but someone else begins to distract you.

"Or anyone, or anything, YEAHH!" Andrew hollers, viscously shaking your shoulders with his eyes closed before opening them, his beaming grin falling instantly. "Did I make you cry?!"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head and look down as you feel tears slowly begin pouring out. "Hide me before Taylor sees me, I don't want to look ugly in front of her." you joke, trying to stop his flourishing worries but it didn't.

Instead, it made him even more concerned by how unfazed you were after releasing your waterworks out of nowhere.

Nodding, he holds your hand and begins to lead you away from the crowd but another grip was holding you back. Looking at your other hand, you move your gaze to discover your ex was the one who ceased your steps, sending you an alarmed stare in return.

Trying to free yourself, you shake your hand vigorously as he leaned into you. "You can't just breakdown in front of me and expect me to leave you alone!"

Scoffing, you move your face away from his crazed one. "I'm drunk, ignore me."

"A drunk mind speaks the hidden truth."

Pausing your movements, you stare him down as he doesn't back away but only frowns by your rude attitude. He wasn't going to let this nonstop quarrel continue anymore, especially when you obviously weren't fine if you just fell apart over a silly Taylor Swift song.

In his eyes, you clearly weren't fine with him. He wanted to fix that.

Inhaling sharply, you forcefully pull your hand away as he winces by the sudden release. Trying to find a clever comeback in order to take a win on this minor bickering, you allow your drunken-self to take the lead. "I prefer Spider-man, anyway."

What the fuck? You pull a disgusted face, slapping your forehead once your back was facing Pedro to hide your embarrassment. How was that fucking clever? Spider-man- really?

Turning to Andrew, you tug his hand and swiftly make your way through the bodies of the crowd as your two other friends followed behind, definitely witnessing your intense argument with your ex- which you were sure people finally uncovered.

Strolling through the back door, a cold breeze hits your body causing you to shiver and clutch your arms together tighter in hopes of forming some warmth.

"Your car should arrive in a few minutes, Ma'am," you hear the valet attendant claim, awkwardly standing still as your makeup was smudged near the corners of your eyes.

You thank him as your friends quietly gawk you, curious to figure out what was going on but not wanting to trigger you more.

"Will you three stop staring at me like that and ask already?" you groan as they jump in alarm. "I know you're all very confused."

Slowly taking a step forward, Florence placed a soft hand on your arm for comfort. "We don't want to intrude. It's your business."

"I believe I welcomed the party in my business ten minutes ago," you sarcastically smile. "So, it's fine."

Sighing, Shailene was the first to speak up as Andrew gave you a sympathetic face, trying to be respectful. "You and Pedro dated?"

Shrugging, you nipped on your bottom lip to prevent the fear of tears from flowing again. "I guess?" you lightly chuckle, trying to lighten your mood a bit. "3 years must have meant something, right?"

Pulling you in for a hug after capturing your weak voice crack, Andrew cradled you in his arms as Florence and Shailene tried rubbing your back.

Being emotional wasn't really your thing, so being consoled was very strange yet nice.

It made you feel wanted, sadly.

All thoughts through your mind disappeared once a deafening bang was heard from the building, the four of you pulling away from the hug instantly and averting your focus to where the sound directly came from- the back door.

With harsh steps, you make out Pedro's agitated body language as he rapidly shook his head and pointed at you while your friends froze in shock. "I'm sick of you always running away from me every time we talk. Is that fair? I can't have one normal fucking conversation with you because you scatter the second words leave my mouth."

Feeling your hands tighten up, you hug yourself tighter as he takes your silence as complete bullshit.

Now you wanna be quiet?

"Do you know how hard it was trying to find you? Hearing everyone ask if you were okay because you decided to come up to me and run out crying?" he sternly declared, his face now serious as he inched closer to you, your emotionless expression killing him. "As if that was my fault!"

You knew he wanted you to breakdown, to cry in his arms and beg for forgiveness by making you feel as if this was all your fault. It might be- but you weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

His greed to be right was popular during your arguments, but of course he never saw it that way.

Stepping in front of you, Andrew awkwardly tried blocking Pedro from your view to calm him down. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Andrew began speaking. "Look man, maybe now isn't the right time to be discussing this." Giving a slight nod to the street, he continued. "There's paparazzi nearby, we don't want this getting out."

Faking a laugh, Pedro tilted his head before glancing over Andrew's shoulder to meet your eyes. "I'm sure the paparazzi won't be at fault for that one, right y/n?"

God, you hated how petty he would become when provoked. It was one of the rare traits that made him so unattractive and you hated how you shared it.

Maybe you both are just too toxic for each other if you can't be near one another, after months, without fighting- even if you did start it. It was a clear sign after all.

Glaring, you were about to break and fight back until a familiar SUV pulled up. Internally cheering for the literal perfect moment, you slowly ignore his presence and make your way to the car door as he scoffs.

"So you're just going to leave again, like always," he flares, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull the door open. "You can't be serious."

Groaning loudly, you slam the door shut and march over, facing him head on as his strong expression never falters. Instead, he released his arms to his sides and angrily looked down at you. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

Gasping, Shailene and Florence look at each other in disbelief as Andrew scratched the back of his neck, trying to process where this may be leading to.

Nowhere good, that's for sure.

Before Pedro could speak, you harshly place your hand over his mouth to shut him up. Which he did, but he was certainly not happy by your actions. "Yeah! I'm the one who caused all of this-" you start as you feel your adrenaline going crazy. "-but it's done. Over. Nothing we can do now to change what happened and if you're so worried about it, I'll make a public apology if it means I won't ever have to deal with you again."

Frowning, he snatches your hand away from his face that causes Andrew to wince at the rough contact. "Worried? You think I care about what happened in there?"

You swear you could see sadness fill his eyes as they hid under the blaring anger that was presented. He didn't dare to look at any other direction but your own, scared if he did you would run away again.

But he knew deep down that was coming, soon.

"Why else are you this upset with me-"

"Because you act like we never happened!" he interjects, exclaiming loudly as your mouth shuts. "You-" he begins, running his hand over his hair in frustration, "-you pretend like I don't exist. That we weren't together for all those years and for what? Why do I deserve to be treated like shit in the end? Why am I the only one trying-"

"Trying?!" you shriek, laughing sarcastically as he sighed in response, not taking your tone well. "Really? I don't recall you trying to reach me after you left me-"

"Left you? You changed the locks to the damn house! I couldn't come back in-"

"You still left!" you yell, causing him to flinch by your increase in volume.

Feeling the warmth of someone's hand on your shoulder, you could already tell it was Shailene's by the rings on them. "Maybe we should go. It's getting late and soon people will be coming out..."

Slowly breaking eye-contact with Pedro, you nod and back away. You were done with this conversation and you surely didn't want to even attempt to talk things over when you already knew you both needed help in order to even let things go.

But letting things go didn't mean reconciling.

The sight of you walking away from him terrified him when he knew it may be the last time he was ever going to be face to face with you again for a while. He didn't want to give up, not now when he finally had your attention after months of trying to bump into you.

That's hard when you blocked him on everything and instructed your neighborhood security he was not welcomed to see you weeks after you changed your locks. Of course he could've just waited until you left the gate to trap you, but he wasn't a stalker.

Slamming the door shut after you opened it, Pedro leaned his back against it to halter your movements. Freezing at his quick actions, you try pushing him away but he doesn't budge.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend," he blurts out, breathing heavily as he blocked your hands from grasping the door handle. You immediately pause as he continues to let his thoughts flow freely out of his mouth.

Did he watch that interview? Impossible, he was walking the red carpet. He couldn't have had time to.

"I know you said that to seem happy or I don't know, make me jealous? Fuck, you could've said that to fake it for the cameras but I'm not going to stand here and act like you don't love me."

Choking from his last statement, you immediately try pushing him away from the door to get in, even sending a look over your shoulder, you glare at your friends who sheepishly stand there not helping, too invested to intervene.

Those little nosy bitches.

Finding your wrists, Pedro stops your forceful shoves and lowers your trembling arms. "You still love me."

Not being able to move, you were stuck in his trance. Maybe it was from all the chaos happening and your emotions spiraling out of control, but you felt the sudden urge to give up.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, crying, being mad whenever his name popped up.

You wanted all of this to stop.

Gripping the back of your neck, he leaned in and sent you a hopeless look before pulling your body closer as a way to find comfort and security. "And god, I still fucking love you and you know that."

With that, you were snapped back into reality.

Finding all the power you had left in you, you yanked your body out of his arms and jumped back before he could catch you. Angrily glaring at him, you make sure there's enough distance so he wouldn't latch himself back on you before speaking your mind.

"Don't say that," you spit out, redness filling your face as your fury kept growing. "Don't say 'you know that' when you didn't seem to when you were constantly out with your ex without telling me!"

The dropping jaws behind you went unnoticed as you stared Pedro down, catching the way his face ached with agony the longer you two continued your shared meltdown.

This was getting out of hand and you both knew it.

"Why would I tell you when I knew this is how you'd react?" he snapped back, his hurt now forming into irritation by how ignorant you were being. He knew he did nothing wrong, so why couldn't you believe him? "Nothing happened and you know that."

Pointing a finger at him, you release a snarky smirk as he tried to contain his calm this time. You were getting on his nerves bad. "Hiding secrets with someone you were intimate with for five fucking years is deceiving," you huff, gripping the bottom of your dress. "and you know that."

Before he could fight for his defense, you completely shun him. Speedily avoiding his following presence, you make it to the passenger door of the SUV before he could block in and jump inside.

However, your movements weren't fast enough as he gripped the door hard, not letting you close it. Anxiously sighing, he lowered his head to keep contact with you as you ignored his close proximity, focusing on finding a stern hold on the door so you can shut him out, again.

Leaning in closer, he shakes his head. "We need to talk about t-"

"You didn't want to talk about it last time because you it was your own business remember," you intervened as he closed his eyes in exasperation. "What did you say again? 'This isn't about you. Stay out of it.' I'm out now so you can go."

"I was angry and ups-"

"Andrew!" you call out, causing Pedro to stop talking and confusingly gaze you. "Can you please help? I really want to leave."

Pedro let out a loud scoff, returning his past hurt look as you simply waited for your friend to rescue you. Within seconds, Andrew came by your side and sent Pedro a look of sorrow, not really sure how to make him feel better by his wanted removal.

He didn't need to do much as Pedro backed away himself, shaking his head and sent you one last glance of betrayal. "I'm fucking done," he declared, walking backwards and you prayed your sudden feeling of panic wasn't on full display.

"I'm not going to waste my time anymore when its no use." With that, he made his way back to the building, muttering a swift "have a great life" before aggressively pulling the door open and disappearing inside.

Ignoring the presence of people around, you stared at the windshield in front of you as Andrew stayed by your car door, not wanting to close it just yet.

You didn't want to admit it, but you felt your chest tighten as you began to feel uneasy. Was this it? Did you finally get what you wanted?

Or what you thought you wanted?

Of course you wanted this, now you could move on.

You had even forgotten about Florence and Shailene until the sounds of the back door opening flooded through your ears as they hopped in and made a seat for themselves.

As an intense wave of guilt took over, you immediately turned your back to face them for your explanation until Florence waved her hands to make you stop. "You don't need to explain anything right now, all I want is for you to relax."

Sighing, you slowly nod and turn back towards the front to see Andrew give you a small, condoling smile before gently closing your door, trying not to smash your feet or dress in the process.

Awkwardly gazing to the driver who was cautiously scanning over you making sure you weren't going to puke or breakdown, you send him a sad grin. "I'm sorry...for causing a scene."

He chuckles, shaking his head as you felt your cheeks burn from how embarrassed you were. You must've looked so childish fighting with a grown man over your secret relationship. "Don't worry, as long as I get a big tip you can do whatever you want."

Frowning at his response, your eyes widen as he laughs louder, his body shaking from how funny he thought this miserable situation was. "I'm only joking, I would never let a woman tip after dealing with an unfaithful ex."

Sitting up straighter, you send him a surprised look. "So you think he was cheating, too? Right? I'm not cr-"

"Okay! Let's not continue this conversation anymore," Shailene cuts you off and nods to the driver. "Please drive us to her house."

Your driver sends you a promising wink before starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot to hit the busy streets of the city. You wish you could remember the rest of the car ride, but sleep took over after the car passed the third traffic light.

But as you finally got to forget about the recent incident, little did you know it would haunt you the moment you woke up.