#also short hair neo is a thing but like.

[neocitylights]

SUMMARY: Despite the city’s fast-paced scene of street racing—in which you happen to be the name to be beaten at every race—getting to know Jeno is a steady, quiet affair. Breaking the mechanic’s walls between races and late-night rides, the two of you slowly grow closer, unknowingly surrounded by secrets neither of you are ready to reveal. Still, in a world that’s driven by speed and adrenaline like yours, surprises are inevitable—even those that end up breaking your heart before mending it. GENRE: Romance, fluff, action, street racing au WORD COUNT: 16k WARNINGS: Cursing, suggestive themes, implied sexual content, depictions of violence

NOTES: Yay to the official start of the NCU series with a Fast & Furious inspired Jeno fic! Please let me know what you think!! It’s gonna make my day!!

The atmosphere feels heavy with energy, the smell of motor oil and burned rubber lingering in the air as the hum of engines blend with the pounding bass of whatever music’s currently playing in the warehouse.

A row of neon-lit and vivid colored cars line up all the way outside, the buzzing audience placing their bets as they mingle with the racers and crew alike. 

Despite its overwhelming chaos, the environment wraps you like a second skin with ease—laced with nothing but familiarity and comfort, race nights always feel like your personal sanctuary. Under the sounds of revving engines, roaring crowds and blaring music, you’d found your own twisted kind of peace, a vicious sense of belonging that only racing could give you through its unpredictability and adrenaline. 

It also doesn’t hurt that you’re good at it. 

After all, there’s a reason why your name currently holds the highest number of bets and has been for the last five races, no competitor coming close to dethroning your streak of wins. 

While a handful of racers walk past your car, their wandering eyes occasionally lingering over the red Mazda RX-7 gleaming under the warehouse’s bright lights, anticipation slowly builds in your chest as you meticulously check the final details before the official start, brain already racing ahead through the layout until a familiar voice calls for your name.

Startled, you look up just as Gigi approaches with rapid steps. The pink-haired girl quickly intertwines your arms, pulling you closer with a grin that characteristically only means one thing, especially when knowing her antics. 

“Oh, here we go,” you tease, raising an amused eyebrow at your fellow racer turned best-friend. “I wonder what piece of gossip I’m gonna have to roll my eyes at this time.”

“I mean, if you don’t want to know about the new guy from Neo Tech that just signed up to take you…” Gigi starts, offering a nonchalant shrug with a mock dramatic touch lacing her voice. “We can totally talk about something else, if you want?”

As the words hang in the air for a second, your amusement shifts to confusion as you scan Gigi’s face for any traces of exaggeration. “What?”

“You heard me, Cherry,” she continues, excitedly cozying up to your side as her grin returns with your peaked curiosity. “Jaemin says he’s been around for two weeks—”

“There’s a new guy at Neo Tech?” you cut in, furrowing your eyebrows before offering the racer an exasperated huff. “Also, why are you making it sound like I’m having sex with him? He just signed up to take me?”

Gigi bursts into a laugh, giving you a look as mischief takes over her eyes. “I’m not. You’re the one thinking of it!”

“I’m not the one who said it,” you argue, playfully rolling your eyes at her in an attempt to play off the curiosity suddenly gnawing at your thoughts. “Who even told you this?”

“Didn’t I just say Jaemin?” she taunts, holding back another laugh at your half-hearted glare. “Apparently, Taeyong’s short on crew since Mark and Hyuck are still in Seoul, so he’s been pulling in new blood.”

Although you don’t necessarily worry about your victory streak nor being challenged for it, the new information does sound… interesting. Since Neo Tech’s more than just a regular garage, the crew notoriously known for building damn near perfect cars for a few lucky racers in the city—a short list that includes you—it’s not unusual to find one of Taeyong’s mechanics listed up for a race every now and then. 

Given their knowledge, it’s always fun racing with them, which you’ve already done several times against Mark, Jaehyun and Yuta specifically.

As you’re about to fish more details from Gigi, the low growl of a particular engine pulls your attention to the far end of the warehouse. A green Nissan Skyline GT-R turns a few heads as it crosses the lot, the car’s polished, pristine exterior looking nothing but sleek under the lights. It comes to a smooth stop just a few spots away from you, the driver’s door soon swinging open under the crowd’s attentiveness.

It’s almost impossible not looking at the guy, his tall figure turning as many heads as the car did. With a glance around the bustling place, holding a posture that looks entirely too relaxed for a first-timer, his dark eyes suddenly land on you, lingering for a second too long to be just a coincidence. 

Instinctively straightening under his gaze, your curiosity doubles as he walks over to the corner where the Neo Tech’s guys are usually posted on, almost as if he’s done this a hundred times before.

“That’s him!” Gigi murmurs, oblivious to the blasting background music while gently elbowing at your side. “That’s the new guy from Neo Tech!”

You hum softly, finally breaking your gaze from him to shoot your best-friend an inquisitive look. “Do you know his name?”

“What for?” she asks, raising a suspicious eyebrow as a knowing smirk tugs at her mouth. “Why are you suddenly so interested? Don’t tell me that you actually want him to take you—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Gigi!” you interrupt, scoffing at her words as warmth spreads through your cheeks. “I just wanted to know who I’m racing against, that’s all!”

The pink-haired racer snorts, shaking her head as she gives you a side-eye. “I don’t know his name, sorry. Maybe Jaemin told me, but you know I can’t ever remember shit, so…”

Johnny’s voice suddenly echoes over the speakers, calling the racers to the starting line with one of his quick-witted remarks. Exchanging one last look with Gigi before she leaves to her bright pink Honda S2000, the warehouse’s mood has already significantly changed, a competitive streak flaring the audience into life.

Pulling your Mazda into position on the makeshift track marked outside the warehouse, your fingers tighten around the steering wheel as you exhale, ignoring the crowd outside calling out your nickname. 

Still, you can’t help a brief glance as a certain green Skyline slides right beside you, catching Neo Tech guy’s gaze through the window. As a silent acknowledgement of the challenge set between both of you, he gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod as the corners of his mouth hint a tight-lipped smile. 

It takes Johnny to break the moment, the man hyping up the crowd before starting his usual pre-race discourse, listing a handful of rules and warnings to the racers.

“You know the drill, folks!” he remarks, finishing the speech with a grin at the racers, though it seems somewhat too directed at you. “Our current five-win streak means five grand to whoever ends it!”

The words immediately light the audience into life, engines equally roaring as the sound reverberates into the night, the flag now in Johnny’s hands. 

As you focus ahead, adrenaline settles on your stomach—whether you keep the streak or give five thousand to another racer, it doesn’t really matter. You race for yourself, not for the money, not for the praise, and most definitely not for anyone else’s ego or expectations. 

Your hands tighten on the steering wheel, foot hovering over the pedals, waiting for the signal. 

Johnny raises the flag high, his voice cutting through the roaring engines and the buzz of the crowd.

“Three!”

You inhale deeply, pulse racing as strongly as your car’s engine. 

“Two!”

Your foot presses lightly on the accelerator, the cherry red RX-7 growling in anticipation.

“One!”

Johnny drops the flag. 

The car launches forward, tires screeching against the asphalt as the racers surge ahead. Despite the force pining you back, your grip is steady, holding firm enough for the car to quickly take the lead. 

As you pick up speed to a stretch of free road ahead, Neo Tech’s guy edges right behind you, purposefully touching the rear of your Mazda a few times. Despite your annoyance—it took Jaemin a long time to perfect the cherry tone you begged for—you can’t help chuckling at the attitude, definitely impressed with his skills. 

The first turn comes fast, your hands moving with precision as the car makes a perfect curve, tight enough for you to accelerate further with the bend. With the new guy matching the move, it takes a second for him to hold the Skyline side by side with you. 

You dare a brief glance at him, catching a glimpse of his focused, determined expression. It’s clear that he’s in to win it, instantly making you wonder what’s truly driving him to it—if it’s the money, the challenge or just the sense of triumph that comes from a rookie victory. 

You do also admit to yourself that he’s… stupidly good-looking.

Once you barrel into the return stretch, both looking for an opening to overtake each other, your muscle memory takes you ahead with a slightly wider inside curve, foot heavy on the accelerator as the RX-7 takes the lead again. It’s not enough for the guy to give up, his GT-R somehow pushing harder as you approach the final section of the course. As you pour everything into the last seconds of the race, heart pounding against your chest, the finish line comes into view. 

A blur of green and red cut through the finish line together, the audience erupting in stunned and thrilled reactions as Johnny waves the flag for a second time, signaling the end of the race.

As you slam the brakes, the car skimming to a stop into the swarming crowd, your breath’s still heavy as realization strikes—without the need for Johnny’s confirmation, you know Neo Tech’s new guy just broke your infamous five-win streak. 

Once you step out of the car, adjusting your skirt with an eye-roll at Johnny’s mock astonished face, the dark-haired guy quickly emerges from his Skyline, his expression nothing but calm, almost unreadable. The mass of people around opens the way for him as he walks towards you, watching the scene with curious eyes. 

Taking the lead, you reach out a hand before offering your name, a playful smile curling on your mouth as he frowns for a second, visibly skeptical of your light attitude.

“It was a cool race,” you start, smile widening at the way his eyebrows raise upon the words. “Neo Tech guys are usually fun to race against. Good to know you are, too.”

“It was a tough one,” he answers, pausing for a second before finally taking your hand with a polite nod, the tone of his voice neutral before introducing himself. “I’m Jeno.”

The simplicity of his interaction shifts something within you. As you’re left staring bemusedly at the calm, laidback confidence in the guy’s words and body language, maybe the loss should sting… for a little, at least. 

It’s a known fact between the racers that you aren’t the type to obsess over winning, proving a point or whatever that comes with the territory of racing. That’s exactly what leaves most contenders sore about their loss whenever challenging you—while they’re racing specifically to beat you, winning has always been just a bonus for you, instead racing for the fun and your passion for cars.

Now, Jeno has not only beat your streak, but also has properly acknowledged you as an equal competitor. 

Even though he did race to win, he’d raced with you, not against you.

So for the first time in a long time, you suddenly find yourself wanting the win, for whatever twisted reason your brain has fooled you into. 

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts, Jeno,” you say, smiling mischievously before letting go of his hand, purposefully locking eyes with him. “I’ll take you for a rematch if you’re back next time.”

The corner of his mouth lifts just slightly, gaze unwavering from you as he nods firmly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

As you turn around to leave, heading toward Gigi and the rest of her crew, you can’t help glancing over your shoulder. Already surrounded by a few of Neo Tech’s guys and curious spectators, Jeno’s eyes meet yours for a second before you disappear into the crowd again. 

Entering his third week at Neo Tech, Jeno has already grown accustomed to the garage’s bustling routine, the controlled chaos entirely familiar by now. 

With Tayeong running the crew under a sharp eye, it’s not a secret that the place holds an unique energy that’s equal parts professional and chaotic—the exact reason why the garage is so sought after in the first place, besides the highly qualified crew that works on and off the streets. 

After the race, the buzz of his win is yet to quiet down, especially with the stream of racers that stop by the garage for either routine check-ups or simply to scope out the new Neo Tech guy who’d taken a certain racer’s five-win streak. Despite the attention, Jeno keeps his head down, choosing to only acknowledge the crew’s interest every now and then and focusing on work instead.

Still, that’s not to say that he isn’t curious himself about you.

Even if he deliberately avoids the crew’s knowing glances towards him when your Mazda suddenly pulls up at the garage a few days later.

The familiar hum of your engine immediately pulls Jeno’s attention from his work, the RX-7’s contrasting cherry red easily catching his eye from outside. 

You climb out of the car with a flair to your step, coming to a stop at the entrance as you briefly scan the space, exchanging casual greetings with some of the guys on the way. As soon as you spot Jaemin hunched over a rebuild project, a grin immediately spreads across your face. 

Jeno discreetly watches as you sneak up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a back hug that visibly startles the ever nonchalant mechanic. 

“Hi, Nana,” you greet, teasing Jaemin with a gentle squeeze while pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Did you miss me?”

“Do you really want me to answer?” he says, giving you a dry look over his shoulder despite the warmth in his voice. “Took you long enough to show up this time, didn’t you?”

“I know you missed me, but I’m a very busy woman,” you quip, flashing him a grin before jumping up to sit on a workstation nearby. “Besides, you of all people should know I’d never let my baby unattended if something had happened.”

Jaemin shakes his head with a chuckle, side-eyeing you suspiciously for a second. “Then why are you here, Cherry?”

“Just thought I’d drop by to see you,” you answer breezily, shrugging as your fingers fiddle with the two red hearts locked to your car’s keys. “We didn’t really talk last time and Gigi’s crew left the race earlier than usual, so…”

With a hum, Jaemin raises an eyebrow in his direction before turning to you again, eyes gleaming with purpose. “I take it you’ve met Jeno, then?”

As the mechanic gestures towards him, Jeno can’t help the tension from spreading through his body, caught off guard over suddenly being pulled into the conversation. For a moment that feels too long, it almost feels like he’s being sized up as your gaze lands on his frame, sharp and assessing. 

“Yeah,” you admit, a laugh escaping from your lips when catching the slight surprise on his face. “What’s up, Jeno?”

He nods politely, pursing his lips in a half-hearted, hesitant greeting. “Hey.”

“I bet you’ve had a lot of visitors dropping by to check you out after the race, right?” you ask, teasing him as your tone shifts to a mischievous one. “Are you sick of it enough for a rematch yet?”

Still holding your gaze, Jeno simply shakes his head. “They’re not here because of me.”

Despite his deadpan delivery, the way your eyes immediately flicker in understanding isn’t lost on Jeno, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as the implication behind his words settle between you. 

“Taeyong sure knows how to pick a crew,” you muse, mostly chuckling to yourself before raising an eyebrow towards him. “Have you been racing for a long time?”

Turning his attention back to the engine in front of him, Jeno nods vaguely. “A while.”

As you watch him, maybe a little too attentively for his liking, a mix of amusement and exasperation take over your face. “You don’t really talk much, do you?”

Jeno doesn’t immediately respond, instead keeping his eyes fixed on the tools spread over his workstation. As he gives a half-hearted shrug, the silence instantly serves as an answer for you.

“Right,” you mutter, chuckling softly before curiously peering at his engine from your spot. “That’s a cool V8 you’re working on, by the way.”

He quickly glances up at your words, his hands pausing the screwdriver in his grasp as a hint of intrigue replaces the indifferent attitude. “You know your way around cars.”

“It comes with the territory,” you answer, an amused smile widening on your face at his reaction. “Also, I’ve had good teachers… Vic taught me a lot about it, too.”

The name catches Jeno off guard, a frown betraying the confusion on his face. “Vic?”

As the loud, unmistakable rumble of a Dodge Charger R/T suddenly resonates through the garage, heads turning to the entrance over the black, pristine 1970’s model stopping outside Neo Tech, the question stays unanswered. 

For a second time, Jeno catches himself cautiously watching you—as the puzzled look on your face shifts to a smile of recognition over whoever’s arrived, you’re quick to jump off Jaemin’s workstation, hurrying outside with a demeanor he can’t quite figure out.

Behind the Charger’s wheel, sits a man that looks somewhat familiar, his appearance seemingly fitting around early to mid fifties given his rugged presence. 

As you share a high-five with him, leaning against the window of his car for a chat, Jeno notes how the man seems to hang onto your words, a visible sense of camaraderie laced to the interaction. Despite your childlike excitement, it doesn’t take long until he playfully waves you off, a giggle escaping from your lips while you quickly climb into your Mazda, soon leaving right behind him. 

It’s only when Jaemin clears his throat that Jeno breaks away from the scene, looking back to find the mechanic grinning knowingly at him.

“That was really interesting,” he starts, leaning back against a nearby tool cart before crossing his arms. “Cherry doesn’t usually have to work for it.”

Ignoring the insinuation of Jaemin’s comment, Jeno plays it off with an amused scoff. “Is there a reason for that nickname?”

“Everyone’s been calling her that for as long as I’ve known her.” Jaemin shrugs, chuckling fondly. “She owned up to it when she started racing, so we painted the RX-7 red to match her.”

Jeno hums, briefly shooting him an inquisitive glance. “You two seemed close.”

As he seems to understand the catch, the grin on Jaemin’s face grows even bigger. “Oh, it was a long time ago,” he explains, sounding annoyingly reassuring for no reason. “We mutually decided we’re better off as friends, so don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not,” he counters bluntly, frowning at the fellow mechanic before turning back to the V8 again. “Who was that in the black Charger?”

“That’s... Victor Torres,” Jaemin answers, seemingly puzzled at the question. “Vic’s a bit of a legend around the neighborhood. He’s been racing, mentoring a few racers around here for a while. Cherry’s one of his star pupils.”

Jeno pauses briefly, his eyebrows furrowing in thought over the memories from that night. “I don’t think I’ve seen him at the race.”

With a curious smirk curling his lips, the mechanic shakes his head. “The old man was out of the city for a dealership,” he explains, squinting his eyes in his direction for a second. “You’re settling in pretty quick for new blood.”

A half-hearted smile tugs at Jeno’s mouth, the answer measured with a nonchalant shrug. “Things aren’t too different from what I’ve done before.”

“So you have raced before,” Jaemin notes, an inquisitive edge to his voice despite the humorous gleam in his gaze. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned that when you signed up last time.”

“Nobody asked,” Jeno replies, looking up at the mechanic again with a taunting glance. “It didn’t seem important.”

Amused by the off-putting answer, Jaemin studies him for a beat before clicking his tongue. “Maybe you shouldn’t have raced against Cherry,” he says, shooting him a playful wink. “Winning against everyone’s favorite tends to draw attention.”

As Jeno stands up from his workbench, subtly signaling the end of the conversation, a touch of finality hangs to his voice. “I’m not here to impress anyone.”

“Fair enough,” Jaemin counters with a chuckle, backing off with a lazy shrug. “Just don’t think we’re not all wondering, though. People are paying attention.”

Though Jeno doesn’t react outwardly, the weight of Jaemin’s words linger over his head for the night.

Settling in at Neo Tech truly had been smoother than he’d expected—maybe a little too smooth, now that he thinks of it. Jeno knows he’s playing a careful game, but days like this make him feel like the pieces are shifting faster than he can anticipate.

Despite being as old as time, The Bluebird is considerably packed for a Friday night, the few worn-out tables of the diner all taken as you walk past through the door.

As the jingle of the bell announces your arrival, the smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee immediately surround you, welcoming and familiar as a childhood memory.

Nestled on the corner of the neighborhood’s busiest street, The Bluebird is the kind of place where the food is deliciously greasy, the coffee a little too strong and everyone knows your name even if you don’t. Though it’s not the case with Daria, one of the diner’s waitresses that has pretty much seen you grow up over your visits for their milkshakes and cheeseburgers. 

She’s quick to spot you through the diner’s buzz, gesturing for you to sit by the vacant counter with a smile. You rush through the tables, softly returning the older woman’s smile.

“I didn’t know you were back, Daria!” you start, sliding into a stool with a curious glance at her. “How was your trip? Did you see your grandkids?”

“It was wonderful!” she says, her face lighting up with warmth before setting the menu in front of you. “The little ones are growing so fast, it won’t take long until they’re taller than me.”

Leaning against the counter, you smile at her between mischief and curiosity. “What about your boyfriend? Did he go with you?”

“You know that an old woman shouldn’t kiss and tell,” Daria jokes, though her face quickly shifts as she shoots you a knowing look. “What about you? Don’t think I haven’t heard about your little things with Taeyong’s boys.”

You quickly avert your gaze to the menu on the wall, feigning a cough under her amused scrutiny. “Oh, I think I’m ready to order?”

Daria chuckles, visibly unimpressed by your poor attempt to change the subject. “I’m sure you are,” she teases, pulling a notepad from her apron. “Let me guess. A cherry milkshake, cheeseburger and fries, like always?

As you nod eagerly, a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You just get me, Daria.”

The older woman laughs, jotting down your order just about to head towards the kitchen when a familiar voice cuts through the chatter around you.

“Add it to my tab.”

The sudden intrusion makes you glance over, eyes instantly locking with Jeno’s as he sits a few stools away, casually holding a steaming mug of coffee. The faintest hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he notes your surprised features, having been oblivious to his quiet presence until now.

Daria raises an eyebrow at him, suspiciously glancing between both of you. She hesitates, tapping a pen against the notepad as if weighing whether to prod further or leave her curiosity alone.

With a playful shrug, you laugh reassuringly at the waitress. “You heard the man, Daria. I’m having free dinner tonight.”

She hums, looking nothing but unconvinced as she side-eyes Jeno for a second. “Alright, then,” Daria says, ultimately tucking the notepad into her apron again. “I’m watching you two. Don’t cause trouble, I’ll bring your food soon.”

As she heads towards the kitchen, leaving you two alone in the diner’s bustling atmosphere, Daria doesn’t resist smirking knowingly at you.

Shifting on your seat to face him, you regard the racer’s laidback posture with narrowed eyes. “I can pay for my own food, you know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeno answers, an unexpected hint of amusement lacing his voice as he shrugs lightly. “I’ve got five grand sitting in my bank account, figured some courtesy wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, we’re going there now?” you argue, a scoff escaping from your lips. “There’s another race in a few days, should I expect a rematch?”

He hums, taking a sip of his coffee before offering a teasing, small smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I actually would,” you say, crossing your arms over the counter with a mock challenging glare at him. “Aren’t you talking a little too much for new blood? That entire race was mine.”

Jeno quirks an eyebrow, setting the mug down as the smile on his face widens discreetly. “Pretty sure I crossed the line first.”

“By a hair,” you counter, slumping back against your seat just as a deliberate, easy grin tugs at your mouth. “I might’ve lost but I know I made you work for it.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, the admission edged with a touch of honesty that catches you off-guard. “You really did.”

As he holds your gaze for a second longer than necessary, all traces of playfulness slowly shift to a  more thoughtful mood, a touch too serious for the moment. The air seems to shift between you—somewhat charged with something you can’t pinpoint, though neither of you back down from it. 

Before the sudden tension stretches for longer, Daria steps in, breaking the conversation’s lull with your order in hands. 

She glances between you and Jeno with an amused frown, lips twitching for a grin. “Flirting or fighting?”

Jeno snorts. “Neither.”

“Fighting,” you fire back.

Answering at the same time, the coincidence draws a snicker out of Daria before she hurries away to another customer, quickly leaving you for a second time.

“So, Jeno...” you start, attempting to lead the conversation back into your own curiosity’s territory. “What’s your deal? Taeyong’s usually so picky about his crew, I was surprised to hear there was a new guy at Neo Tech.”

Jeno takes his time to reply, almost as if weighing what to say. “Not much to tell,” he says, shaking his head before exhaling a laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. “He needed someone on short notice, I needed the job.”

You pick up a fry in between bites of the cheeseburger, twirling it between your fingers with a hum. “How’d you get into racing then?”

“I grew up around cars. My dad used to work on a few for fun, so I spent a lot of time in our garage with him,” Jeno explains, looking suddenly a bit nostalgic. ”I started tinkering around, learning a bit. Racing just felt like a natural step.”

As you nod, a small smile curls on your lips over the straw of the milkshake. “Sounds like me, except it was my brother.”

He raises an eyebrow, visibly surprised by the words. “Does he race?”

“Nope,” you quickly answer, glancing down at the plate in front of you to pick on the few fries left. “Not anymore.”

As if sensing something there, Jeno chooses to not press further as he nods. “If it’s worth anything, you’re really good at it.”

You blink, feeling warmth spreading through your neck for a moment before quickly recovering, shooting him a mischievous grin instead. “Why did you decide to challenge me that day, by the way?”

Jeno pauses, lips threatening a smile as his fingers brush over the edge of his mug. “I wasn’t going to,” he confesses, chuckling humorlessly. “I wasn’t even thinking about racing that day.”

Unconsciously leaning closer, your curiosity now piqued, you frown at him. “Then... why did you?”

“I heard some racers talking about you—how you don’t race for the money or actually winning,” he starts, his tone somehow caught between amusement and exasperation. “Doing it against someone like that just seemed... fun. Just racing for the sake of it.”

Your grin returns a little wider, mischief slipping back into your tone. “All I’m hearing is that you’re signing up for the next one.”

His lips twitch, Jeno taking a last sip of his coffee under your intrigued gaze. “If you get a ten-win streak, I’ll think about it.”

You snort, feigning a peeved glare. “Is that a challenge?”

He tilts his head, the corners of his mouth curving into a small, teasing smile. “I don’t know.” Jeno chuckles quietly, a hand casually running through his hair. “Is it?”

The sudden shift in his behavior—from the guarded, almost apathetic Jeno you met at the garage to the current playful, teasing Jeno from today—has definitely given you a bit of whiplash. The easy smiles, his gentle confidence and the way he’s been quietly coaxing reactions out of you are a stark contrast to the unreadable, aloof man from days ago. Leaving you to wonder what else he’s possibly hiding underneath his layers, the change only spurs you further. 

There’s something there, a growing curiosity that you can’t ignore, making you eager to figure him out even if you’re not entirely sure why. 

As your phone buzzes inside the pockets of your hoodie, Vic’s name flashing on the screen once you pick it up, Jeno’s face quickly changes to a more reserved expression, politely turning away in an attempt to give you a little privacy. The call doesn’t last long, Vic ultimately bidding you goodbye as the line clicks off.

You pocket the phone into your hoodie again, turning back to him with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”

Jeno nods, his light-hearted demeanor now eased into something more neutral. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

“Yeah,” you reply with a small smile, lingering for just a second longer than you mean to before standing up from your stool. “Try not to miss me too much, okay? I’ll see you at the race.”

He doesn’t reply, instead only offering you an amused smile watching you skirt around the tables on the way to the door. You send him a quick, playful wink over your shoulder before finally stepping outside, holding back a smile of your own upon noticing the way he laughs. 

Heading towards your car, the glow of The Bluebird’s neon sign fading through the street, you shake off the wandering thoughts.

Back at the warehouse again, surrounded by the roar of engines and the usual heavy atmosphere that marks race day, Jeno watches the bustling crowd with attention.

It hasn’t been long he’s arrived, parking his Skyline at Neo Tech’s usual spot as a few racers stop by every now and then, attempting to find out whether his name was at the starting grid for the night. 

Though the crowd quickly turns his name into one of the most anticipated contenders once they clock his presence, Jeno knows better than racing tonight. After last time, unexpectedly battling with the scene’s most loved racer, keeping a low profile seems like the safest option for now.

As he leans against the hood of his green GT-R, taking in the line-up of cars over the warehouse, a familiar cherry red shadow easily catches his attention—except you aren’t the one behind the wheel this time. Jeno frowns, straightening slightly as he tries to recognize the figure through the windows of your Mazda until Johnny’s sudden call makes it impossible, the crowd erupting into chaos at his blasting voice.

Pushing off his car, he quickly weaves through the audience outside the warehouse, surrounding the starting line for a better view.

The pre-race procedure stays the same with Johnny listing the rules, giving a quick run-down on the night’s track before hyping up the winning prize, the crowd attentively hanging onto his words.

“We’ve got a bit of a twist tonight though,” Johnny adds, his voice laced with a cryptic touch despite the thrill on his face. “Two of our favorite racers have switched cars for today’s race.”

Before the crowd pieces it together, Jeno raises an eyebrow at his own realization. 

“In the RX-7, we’ve got Gigi taking the wheel—” Johnny pauses abruptly, grinning at the sudden cheers and whistles of both surprise and excitement coming from the audience. “—and in the S2000, we’ve got Cherry in command tonight.” 

“That’s new,” Jaemin says, chuckling as he steps beside Jeno, glancing between the two cars at the far end of the line-up with interest. “I don’t think Cherry’s ever done that.”

Following his eyes, Jeno finally glimpses your focused figure inside the pink Honda. “She seems to know what she’s doing.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he replies casually, arms crossing over his chest as a grin slowly grows on his face. “It’s not about the car with her, but I am curious as to why she’s doing it tonight.”

Jaemin gives him a sharp glance, expressive enough that Jeno immediately gets the picture he’s painting. 

Though he doesn’t respond, it feels like his silence speaks volumes. 

As Johnny finishes his speech, the roar of the engines revving up adds to the building tension. The crowd surges forward once Johnny raises the flag, pressing closer to the edge of the track as it blazes under bright headlights.

The flag drops.

Despite being at disadvantage at the corners, you easily push through with Gigi’s Honda, tires screeching against the pavement as the car takes the lead.

At his side, Jaemin lets out an amused whistle. “Yeah, she’s definitely pulling it off.”

It doesn’t take long until the cars are doubling a corner after the first long straight, the blind spot simmering the crowd with anticipation for a few minutes. As a commotion at the outskirts of the grid catches Jeno’s eyes, his attention momentarily shifts to a familiar figure stepping into the chaos. 

Victor Torres walks through the cluster of people, thoroughly scanning the place in the company of two broad-shouldered, stone-faced men right behind him. 

Jaemin notices the shift in Jeno’s attention, curiously glancing around until a puzzled sound escapes his mouth. “Oh? Vic usually doesn’t show up unless he’s got a reason.”

Trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible, Jeno clears his throat. “So he doesn’t usually watch her race.”

Though the question sounds more like a statement, the mechanic still shakes head with a thoughtful hum. “Not anymore. He could be here for literally anything, though.”

As the sounds of running engines approach, getting louder by every second, the audience quickly flares up waiting for whoever’s currently leading the race. Jeno can’t help but grin as the S2000 makes a perfect curve into the final stretch, leaving you seconds ahead as the first racer to reach the last bit of the course. 

The blur of pink easily blazes across the finish line, the atmosphere erupting with cheers and applause. Behind you, the cherry red Mazda follows close as Gigi skillfully holds the second place.

Jeno watches as you slow the car into the surging crowd, climbing out of the Honda with a thrilled glow on your face. Despite the swarm congratulating you, your attention seems to be on something else, eyes scanning the faces until unmistakably locking with his own. A grin immediately curls on your lips as you push through the handful of people, walking towards him with a poised stance.

You cast a mischievous glance at him as you approach, arms crossing over your chest. “Are you really backing out of our rematch?”

Jeno chuckles, holding a hand out for a surprise high-five. “Congratulations. That was one hell of a race.”

Jaemin clears his throat dramatically at Jeno’s side, watching you reciprocate the gesture with a frown on his face. “Oh, sure, don’t mind me,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “I mean, I wasn’t really here rooting for you the whole time, it’s fine.”

“Don’t be like that,” you coo at him, stepping closer before throwing your arms around Jaemin’s neck, hanging onto his figure with a laugh. “You know I love you, Nana.”

The mechanic hums, letting you go with a teasing side glance. “Do you?”

With a slap to his arm, an amused scoff escapes your lips. “You’re a menace,” you say, giving Jaemin a light, playful push. “You should go, Gigi’s probably wondering why you’re not hovering around her yet.”

Jaemin grins, ruffling your hair in retaliation before stepping back with an exaggerated bow. As he disappears into the crowd walking over to Gigi’s parked Honda, there’s a subtle change in the air now that you’re left alone. 

Despite the hectic post-race, heavy music now echoing from inside the warehouse as Johnny takes the DJ stand, a few curious eyes are still watching both of you, conversations pausing momentarily to become hushed mumbles. Whether it’s about your win over Gigi, the fact that you’re openly engaging with him of all people or something else entirely… Jeno can’t really tell.

As you turn to him again, your expression shifts to a mix of confusion and excitement. “Why did you come if you weren’t racing tonight?”

“To watch you,” he replies, the blunt answer clearly catching you off guard as your lips twitch, resisting a smile. “I told you, I don’t really race that much anymore.”

“Well, maybe you should,” you argue, offering a light shrug with a coy glance at him. “At least it’d be more fun for me.”

Jeno regards you knowingly, lips pursing in a small smile. “I’m pretty sure you were holding back on the straights tonight,” he notes, huffing a quiet laugh at your guilty wince. “How long have you known Gigi?”

“We went to school together,” you answer, fondness suddenly lacing your voice. “If my brother and Vic taught me everything I know, Jaemin and I taught her everything she knows.”

“She had a good teacher, then,” he says, still smiling with a thoughtful nod. “Seems like you’ve got a lot of people in your corner.”

You smile in a way Jeno hasn’t seen yet, a hint of pride flashing in your eyes. “I’m the luckiest to have them.”

As he studies you for a second, your expression unexpectedly wavering to a sheepish one, Jeno can’t help a soft chuckle from escaping his lips. “I can tell.”

A beat of silence passes before you break it with a playful sparkle in your eyes. “So… where’s your car, anyways?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder towards the warehouse. “I’ve never driven a Nissan before. When are you giving me a chance to drive that beauty?”

Jeno raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a teasing smile. “You sure you can handle it?” he asks, crossing his arms in a laidback gesture. “It’s not exactly a car for amateurs.”

“Are you calling me an amateur?” you provoke him, taking a step closer before playfully raising your chin at him. “If you think I can’t handle it, then let me take a ride to show you what I got.”

Though he laughs at the words, warmth slowly spreads through his body as Jeno leans closer to you, just enough to subtly tower over your figure. As his heart picks up, your dazed face just inches away from his, Jeno can’t help his eyes from dipping to your lips. 

It feels like something snaps in his brain as he suddenly looks up, instantly finding Vic near the entrance of the warehouse, the man’s gaze fixed intently on both of you. His posture is tense, arms crossed as if he’s been watching for a while.

Jeno takes a step back, exhaling sharply at the way your expression falters, looking genuinely confused by his sudden attitude.

As his voice falls into indifference again, he offers you an apologetic glance. “It’s getting late, you should probably go home.”

You huff a short laugh, a mix of bewilderment and defiance crossing your face. “Right... I probably should.”

Before Jeno can say anything else, you quickly turn around to leave—not before giving him a final, lingering look with arms crossed over your chest. As he watches you cut into the remaining crowd, your name slips from his mouth before Jeno can consciously stop it. 

“You’ll have to buy me dinner before I let you ride it.”

A grin slowly tugs at your lips before you offer him an eye-roll.

“We’ll see about that, Jeno.”

The streetlights cast dark shadows over the rows of cars parked outside Neo Tech, its large doors already halfway closed as you slowly come to stop, the engine of your Mazda humming gently in the silent neighborhood.

Inside, you can spot Jeno’s figure still moving around, his back towards the entrance as he seems to finish up for the night, clearing his workstation with a relaxed posture. 

As your fingers tap the steering wheel, you debate with yourself for a second—you hadn’t exactly planned on stopping by the garage this late, yet you’re still there with a takeout bag ready to be shared, unpretentiously anticipating his reaction over the surprise.

After the race, Jeno had left you feeling something deeper than just curiosity, especially with a certain little moment lingering at the corners of your mind for the following days. Given how much he’s changed since first meeting him at the garage, you can’t help the growing expectation inside your chest, though you’d never be one to openly admit so. 

Though before you can talk yourself out of it by overthinking, the sound of a door rolling open draws your attention. 

While throwing a few goodbyes to the crew over his shoulder, Jeno steps outside, eyebrows instantly furrowing in surprise as he spots you. Closing the garage behind him, shrugging a black hoodie jacket on, he walks towards your car with a knowing smirk breaking into his face. 

As he approaches, Jeno bends down to your window, holding an arm over the car’s roof. “If you’re here for Jaemin, he left a few minutes ago.”

“I’m here for you, actually,” you say, holding back a grin of your own at his bemused expression. “You said I should buy you dinner first, so that’s what I’m doing.”

His eyebrows shoot up briefly, the smirk widening into something caught between disbelief and amusement. “Dinner, huh?” Jeno repeats, tilting his head as if to get a better read on you. “Didn’t take you for someone who’d keep tabs on promises like that.”

“Well, I’m trying to keep things interesting for you,” you quip, starting the engine again before looking up at his figure, still leaning against your car. “I’ve got food and I know a place. Are you coming?”

Jeno just shakes his head, laughing softly as he steps back towards his GT-R. “Lead the way, let’s see what you’ve got.”

You can’t help the spark of satisfaction warming your chest as his car rumbles to life, soon pulling onto the neighborhood’s main street right behind your RX-7. Glancing in the rearview mirror every now and then, Jeno’s got the same expression from the day he’d raced you, serious and focused enough that you almost don’t resist suddenly pulling him into a challenge. 

The road stretches out ahead to a highway shortcut, the city glowing in the distance as both of you escape from it for the night. 

As the buildings and bright lights start giving way to rolling hills and open fields, you lead Jeno onto a dirt road, following it until a secluded, almost undetectable clearing. The space’s quiet, surrounded by trees, with a clear view of the stars above and the city’s skyline far ahead. 

Jeno steps out of his Skyline first, looking around with attentive eyes. “Nice spot. How’d you find this place?”

“My brother,” you answer, the diner’s bag in hands as you join him with a small smile. “He used to bring me here when I was a moody, grumpy pre-teen.”

Taking a seat on the hood of his car, Jeno hums softly. “Not anymore?”

Debating with yourself as you watch him for a moment, the words slip from your mouth with surprising ease. “He passed away, so not really,” you say, snickering softly at the quick change in his expression. “It’s been a long time though, don’t worry about it.” 

“I’m still sorry,” he starts, voice shifting to a quieter tone. “Can I ask what happened?”

You sigh wistfully, moving to sit beside him on the GT-R’s hood before starting to set up the food between you. “Would it be weird to say that I have no idea?”

Jeno frowns, visibly caught off-guard by the odd answer. “What do you mean?”

“I still don’t know what happened,” you repeat, humorlessly huffing a laugh as you pick up a fry to start. “He just… went out of town for a race one day and never came back. Vic was the one to break the news to me.”

A flicker of something you can’t read crosses his face, though he quickly recovers by offering a half uneasy, half reassuring glance. “I’m not sure what I should say—”

“It’s fine, Jeno,” you interrupt, deliberately lighting up the mood with a growing grin on your lips. “We should probably talk about how you’re letting me drive your car back to the city today.”

As Jeno chuckles, his gaze is steady but softer than usual. “You really don’t waste time, do you?”

“What can I say?” you joke, taking a sip of your milkshake with a coy shrug. “I’m a very focused person and right now my focus is exactly getting behind the wheel of your GT-R.”

Still not breaking eye contact, he shakes his head to resist his grin from growing. “So you win a few races and suddenly think that earns you the keys to my car?”

Your fingers are playing with the straw of the cherry drink as you smirk at him, tilting your head for added effect. “I mean, I did buy you dinner like you asked,” you counter, clicking your tongue. “The least you can do is uphold your promise.”

“Was it a promise?” Jeno asks, feigning confusion with a quirked eyebrow. “I don’t remember that.”

“Do you want me to remind you?” you shoot back, leaning just a little closer to taunt him. “You said that I should buy you dinner before you let me ride it. Remember that?”

As he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head again, there’s a subtle hint of a blush dusting Jeno’s cheeks. “You’re relentless.”

You smile teasingly, leaning back on your hands against his car. “Well… you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

You barely finish the sentence before Jeno suddenly leans over your frame, closing the distance between you without hesitation. The kiss catches you completely off guard, your breath hitching as his lips meet yours. For a moment, your mind goes completely blank, overwhelmed by his unexpected action. 

Jeno’s hand firmly holds your jaw, anchoring you in place with the same intensity as he’s kissing you—almost as if he’s acting on an impulse after holding himself back. You can’t help giving in, something warmer and deeper quickly melting the surprise as you instinctively kiss him back, your fingers tightening around his hoodie. 

As he pulls away, exhaling a laugh against your mouth, his forehead lingers close to yours. “Sorry, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

You blink at him, trying to pace yourself again as heat rushes through your cheeks. “Not really,” you admit, grinning softly with a light-hearted shrug. “I’m not complaining, though.”

Jeno rubs the back of his neck, the action laced with a hint of bashfulness that contrasts with his usual composure. “Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“I hope you’re not implying I’m a bad kisser,” you cut in, squinting your eyes in mock annoyance before pulling back with an exaggerated gasp. “By the way, was that you giving your car to me or is this just an attempt to trick me out of it?”

He laughs, the sound coming off low and genuine, his eyes almost sparkling under the dim light. “What if it’s both?”

A grin immediately tugs at your lips before you lean forward, pressing a quick smooch to his mouth with a giddy laugh. “I’m racing your GT-R next time then, just so you know.”

Jeno shakes his head, holding back a smile as he purposefully looks away to the city’s horizon in the distance. “You’re impossible, you know that?” 

Your laughter softens as you settle back against the hood of his car, attentively watching his profile. “So I’ve been told a few times,” you answer with a playful shrug. “I prefer to think of myself as ambitious, though.”

He smirks, glancing sideways at you with raised eyebrows. “Ambitious is definitely one word for it.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease cheekily, bumping your shoulder lightly against his with a smile. “I know you like me, it’s okay to admit it.”

Jeno hums, shaking his head as something akin to tenderness flashes in his eyes for a second. “I’ll admit you keep things… interesting.”

The weight of his words subtly change the mood, especially as your heart takes the lead by racing annoyingly fast for your liking.

As the night stretches on, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm of conversation in between bites of your usual order from The Bluebird, exchanging a few stories and memories here and there. The night air feels cool against your skin by the time both of you finish, momentarily falling into a comfortable, yet charged silence. 

Jeno breaks the pause with a deep breath, glancing at his watch with a touch of reluctance. “It’s late,” he says softly, offering you a knowing glance. “We should probably head back before someone finds us here.”

Though you know that nobody’s going to find the secluded place so late, you hum softly before hopping off the hood of his car. Just as you’re about to take a step towards your Mazda, Jeno holds you back by the arm. You watch as he silently takes off his hoodie, draping the fabric over your shoulders with a satisfied nod.

Before you can thank him, he gently grabs one of your hands, pulling it out of the long sleeve with a chuckle.

Then—the keys of his green Skyline GT-R are in your palm.

Your jaw drops as you stare down at them, blinking in both disbelief and excitement. “Are you serious?”

Amused by your reaction, Jeno smirks challengingly. “You wanted to drive it, didn’t you?” he asks, leaning closer as his voice drops. “If you make it to the city in under 10 minutes, I’ll let you actually race it.”

You can only snort, tiptoeing to press another kiss to his lips. “We’re on.”

Driving his car through the highway as you head towards the city again, watching him closely follow behind with your Mazda, you can’t help but feel like the night has set something in motion—something you’re more than ready to see through now.

Looking around, Jeno can’t remember the last time he’s been in a conference room.

The place smells like burnt coffee, the hum of its fluorescent lights almost serving as white noise to mask the unnerving silence surrounding him. 

As he sits in the large, secluded corner at the agency for the first time in three months, Jeno can’t help nervously clasping his hands over the table, waiting for Doyoung to arrive.

The walls, covered in bulletin boards that display very specific files and photos, are a twisted reminder of the reason he’s there in the first place. A folder lies in front of him, his jaw tightening at the sight of it every time he glances at the worn out edges and stained cover. 

As the door suddenly clicks with a loud sound, Doyoung is quick to step inside, his sharp, intimidating features immediately softening upon seeing him in person again. Holding another handful of files, the oldest manages a brief side-hug, offering a pat to Jeno’s back before settling on a chair at the head of the desk.

“It’s good to see you in one piece,” Doyoung starts, leaning back against his seat with a knowing glance in his direction. “Sorry that we pulled you out on short notice, the order came from high-up—”

Jeno shakes his head, pursing his lips in a tight line. “It’s fine, I was probably up for a check-in anyway.”

The agent regards him for a second, humming in agreement despite the flicker of reservation in his eyes. “You were,” Doyoung admits, nodding curtly. “We’ve been looking into your intel, and it adds up with what we have so far.”

“I thought we’d already established that the last time we talked,” Jeno answers, glaring at his co-worker impatiently. 

“We did,” the man agrees, resting his elbows against the desk before huffing a peeved scoff. “Except Victor’s not a middleman like we thought, he’s actually the head of the entire thing.”

Jeno leans back against his seat, the weight of the information settling in after a second. “You’re telling me Vic’s the one running the smuggling operation?”

Doyoung nods again, sliding a file over the desk. “Everything points back to him—the money trails, the coded messages, the shipments’ timing,” he explains, his expression seemingly hardening by each word. “He’s not just managing the cargo, he’s intercepting it and passing it forward internationally.”

His jaw tightens, eyes quickly scanning the pages. “What’s his deal with the races?”

“Recruitment ground, maybe? That’s what we gathered from your intel, anyway,” Doyoung clarifies, offering a shrug. “He needs good drivers, fast ones. What’s a better way to have that than making them yourself?”

The memories of his conversations with Jaemin instantly resurface in Jeno’s mind.

Despite the relationships you’ve built through your brother, most with the guys from Neo Tech, Victor has still played a key role in your life by guiding you, eventually molding you into one of the best racers in the city. The connection isn’t just a passing detail— now it feels deliberate, purposeful. 

If Victor’s been intentionally shaping and recruiting racers, then his investment in you isn’t just about talent and skills alone. 

Jeno exhales slowly, voice giving away a hint of stress. “What’s the next step then?”

“There’s new shipment coming next week. They’re planning to take it out of the city, so we’ll be looking out for that,” Doyoung starts, leaning back with an apologetic wince. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we can’t bring him in without solid evidence... we’re getting close, Jeno.”

“Can I join the team on that?” he asks, his expression hardening.

The agent raises an eyebrow, clicking his tongue at the request. “It’s risky but I’ll see what I can do,” he answers, hesitating for a second before shooting Jeno a meaningful glance. “I know I’ve asked before, but I just want to be sure we’re still on the same page about—”

Even though he knew it was coming, Jeno’s stomach still twists at the mention of your name. “She’s not a problem,” he firmly cuts in, body quickly growing tense. “She’s just there to race, nothing more.”

The oldest studies him carefully, visibly cautious despite the insistence. “Are you sure about that? Victor needs good drivers, and if she’s the best one in the scene—”

“I’m sure,” he interrupts again, his fists subconsciously clenching under the desk. “She’s not part of the operation.”

“You know that I trust you, Jeno,” Doyoung says quietly, though not looking entirely too convinced. “I hope you know what you’re doing. If you get too close, it’s not just you who could get hurt.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Jeno argues, glaring at the agent in a way that looks too forceful to feel genuine. “I’m undercover and she gets me closer to the scene, that’s all. I’m not about to compromise the investigation, Doyoung.”

The agent simply nods, sliding another file across the desk. “We’ve also got something new from the surveillance team. Do you recognize these names?”

Scanning the list of names printed on the paper, Jeno points at the last two ones. Shotaro and Sungchan. “I’ve seen these two race before… Vic’s drivers?”

“It seems like it, at least for the next shipment,” Doyoung confirms, regarding him with a knowing look. “If you can scout anything about them at the garage...”

He nods, closing the file before roughly pushing it over. “Sure, I’ll get back to you.”

As Doyoung gathers the files together, a deep exhale suddenly escapes from his mouth once silence settles in the conference room again. 

“Now, I’m asking you as a friend, not as a co-worker or an agent,” he starts, almost sounding exasperated under his characteristic concern. “It’s been three months. Are you sure you can keep doing this?”

The agent watches him attentively, his cranky professional facade slipping for a moment as Jeno clocks a hint of apprehension on his face. 

Doyoung has always been more than just a co-worker, having stepped into an older brother role from the moment he’d joined the agency as a fresh-faced, out-of-school rookie. 

Over the years, the oldest had become a steady presence in Jeno’s building career as one of the top agents in the team—whether through a firm warning when he pushed too far on something or simply seeing his potential when no one else would, there isn’t a single doubt that Doyoung holds a significant place in his life now.

Still, Jeno can’t help hesitating over the question, ultimately nodding despite the weight behind his words. “I’m fine.”

The agent doesn’t answer right away, watching him as though waiting for something. “Well, you don’t really seem like it,” Doyoung counters, standing up from his seat with the files in hands again. “You look like a guy who’s starting to lose sight of what side he’s on. I’d know about that.”

As the oldest steps aside to leave, the silence feels heavier than before, settling between them like the unspoken truth that Jeno’s been tightly safeguarding. Opening the door, Doyoung squeezes his shoulder in reassurance, nodding firmly despite the softness in his eyes.

“You’ve got this, Jeno.”

The sound of tires crunching against the gravel outside your place immediately draws your attention, a familiar engine’s hum echoing through the quiet evening. A small smile tugs at your mouth as recognition settles in, the sound almost unmistakable by now. Peering outside the window, you watch as Jeno’s green GT-R comes to a smooth stop into your driveway, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest.

It’s been a couple of days since you last saw each other, both staying busy enough with work and life between race days. 

In the three months since Jeno first challenged you, your relationship—or whatever that you can possibly call it—has slowly become something that’s been lingering in a space with no definitions or expectations.

Though neither of you are entirely sure of what to call it, even under the occasional teasing quips from Neo Tech’s crew, you’ve come to realize that you don’t really mind it. There’s a certain comfort in not overthinking it, trusting Jeno to exist in your life in the way he does—steady but gently, with an ease that feels very characteristic of him.

The evening chill rises shivers on your bare legs as you step outside, smirking at the way Jeno’s figure is sitting on the hood of his car, hands tucked into the pockets of a bomber jacket. His head lifts slightly at the sound of your quick footsteps, a groan escaping from his lips as you jump against him, arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug. 

“Hello to you too,” Jeno starts, sounding nothing but amused as you pull back, a hint of surprise giving him away for a moment. “Didn’t think I’d get this kind of welcome today.”

“Why? Did you think I’d only do that when we’ve got an audience?” you ask, your tone playful as you stand between his legs, arms now loosely holding him. “I’m a loyal girl, Jeno Lee.”

He nods solemnly, a sudden flicker of seriousness catching his eyes. “I know you are.”

“You could’ve texted me,” you argue, sighing dramatically as you give him a glare. “We could’ve gone out if I knew you were coming tonight.”

Jeno smiles, his hands lightly squeezing your hips before pulling you closer. “What if I wanted to surprise you?”

Rolling your eyes, a grin spreads through your face before you can stop it. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today,” you tease, taking a step back again as you reach for his hand. “We can order some dinner then, I’ll know just the place—”

“I can’t stay tonight, Cherry,” he cuts in, gently stopping you with an apologetic glance. “I’m leaving town for a few days, I just wanted to see you before I go.”

As the words catch you off-guard, you blink confusedly at him. “You’re leaving? What for?”

“Family stuff,” Jeno answers, a heavy sigh escaping from his lips. “It came up suddenly but I’ll only be gone for a few days, a week at most.” 

You frown, pursing your lips in a pout before giving him a playful curious glance. “Family stuff? That’s all I get when there’s probably gossip?”

Jeno laughs, shaking his head in amusement for a second. “Gigi’s been rubbing off on you,” he teases, voice soon dropping to a mix of reassurance and tenderness as he exhales. “It’s not that exciting, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You could’ve told me earlier,” you mutter, your fingers playing with the zipper of his jacket, purposefully avoiding his gaze. “The next race’s gonna suck if you’re not going to be here.”

His fingers grasp at your chin, lifting your face up until your eyes meet. “You’re the main part of these races, so I doubt that’ll happen,” he counters, clicking his tongue with a sly, playful grin tugging his lips. “I’d let my car with you but I’ll need it, so…”

With a scoff, you half-heartedly swat his chest. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He doesn’t answer, instead pausing the conversation for a moment with a soft brush of his thumb along your jaw, the warm touch contrasting against the evening. You lean closer first, but Jeno’s quick to capture your lips in a kiss that’s both tender and lingering, his hand moving from your face as he gently cups your neck. 

In the comfort of his arms, you completely lose track of time—the sounds around you become white noise, fading into the background between his embrace and the softness of his lips, one kiss turning two, then three, and so on. 

The loud rumble of a specific Charger pulls both of you from your shared bubble. Jeno’s arms drop slightly, though his hands remain resting at your hips as Vic suddenly comes into view on the street. The atmosphere instantly changes it, Jeno subtly tensing while watching the man pull up beside his Skyline. 

You don’t seem to notice the skeptical look on Victor’s face, greeting him with a smile once the car comes to a stop. “Vic? What’s up with you guys surprising me tonight?”

“Great minds think alike, Cherry,” Victor says, glancing between both of you with a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just came by to say goodbye before I head out for a job.”

As Jeno’s eyes harden at Vic’s words, the quiet shift in his demeanor isn’t lost on you. There’s something in the way the two men regard each other in that moment—not hostile, but definitely not friendly either, leaving curiosity to gnaw at you. 

With a half-hearted huff, you ignore the edge in their interaction, instead glaring at both of them. “Great, I’ll just ignore the fact that you’re both suddenly leaving and just wish you a safe trip, then.”

The man’s eyes flicker to Jeno for a second, a look of subtle recognition in his gaze. “I’m sure we’ll be back soon,” Victor answers, eyes returning to you again in a sharp glance. “You and I’ll talk when I get back.”

Puzzled by the striking weight in his tone, you hum with a hesitant nod. “Take care, Vic.”

It doesn’t take long until Victor’s car disappears down the street, the red tail lights slowly growing smaller into the evening. Jeno remains quiet in front of you, his hands still resting lightly on your hips, almost as if he’s distracted. You glance up at him, noting the tension in his jaw and the way his gaze’s been fixed towards the direction Vic’s just headed to. 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you raise an eyebrow as he glances back at you again, a touch of agitation in his eyes. “You okay?”

He blinks, expression softening slightly at your touch. “Yeah,” Jeno replies after a beat, his tone calm but not entirely convincing. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” you ask, gently hoping to pull him from whatever had him so lost in thought.

As he stands up from the hood of his car, moving both of you by a step, a half-hearted smile curls on his lips. “Nothing worth worrying about.”

“Everyone’s running off tonight,” you say, sighing in mock exasperation upon realizing that he’s leaving soon too. “Should I start taking it personally?”

“You should go visit Jaemin at the garage while I’m gone. He’s been missing you these days,” Jeno jokes, brushing his fingers against your cheek. “I’ll be back before you can even miss me.”

Not resisting the faint smile that tugs at your mouth, you roll your eyes. “Bold of you to assume I’ll miss you in the first place,” you taunt, though a little softer than intended. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to go bother him then.”

He’s the one to lean down for a kiss again, though it’s a gentle, soft one to your forehead first. It’s enough for you to tug him by his jacket, pressing your lips to his with a sigh against his mouth. When Jeno pulls back, he regards you for a second, almost as if he’s trying to commit your features to his mind. 

You watch as he climbs into the GT-R, the engine roaring back to life in its familiar growl. Giving you one last look through the open window, a faint smile plays on Jeno’s lips. 

“I’ll see you soon, Cherry.”

Crossing your arms, you smile tauntingly at him, the words slipping with a touch of fondness.

“We’ll see about that, Jeno.”

Outside the windows of his apartment, the city’s skyline is casted with a deep orange glow as the sun sets, drawing a picture that Jeno rarely indulges in whenever he’s at home. 

Now that he’s back, the sight quietly tugs at the strings of his heart, especially after everything that has happened in the last few days. It sets a strange, confusing impression in his mind—one that makes him distinctively remember Doyoung’s words from last time. 

The whiplash of feeling at home without really being at home rings several alarms in Jeno’s head, even if he’s been purposefully ignoring them for a while now. He still doesn’t know how to feel about the ease in which he slips in and out of… whatever this is supposed to be, having been toying so effortlessly with the line that draws his two personas. 

Still, despite the noise in his head, you’re the one thing that Jeno’s felt recklessly sure about. He might not know what the mission can possibly mean to the future, but he knows what it means to him, at least for now.

The knock at the door leaves him anticipating something Jeno can’t quite tell.

It almost feels like he hasn’t seen you in months, his lingering eyes getting caught as you step into his place, walking past him with a smirk on your lips. 

“Hi,” you say lightly, the familiar teasing touch in your voice pulling at his chest. “Did you miss me?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno counters, raising an eyebrow as an amused chuckle betrays him. “Did you miss me?”

As you pause for a second, your gaze suddenly hinting a mix of softness and apprehension, the last thing he’s expecting is to feel your arms wrapping him in a firm, almost distraught hug. The suddenness of it takes Jeno by surprise, his hands hovering in the air for a moment before settling reassuringly against your back. 

“Hey, look at me,” he calls, pulling back just enough to catch your eyes as his voice drops to a concerned tone. “Is there something wrong?”

You’re quick to shake your head, offering a half-hearted smile in an attempt to brush it off. “It’s nothing,” you say, stepping back from his embrace with a glance around the place, expression shifting into something lighter. “What are we having for dinner today?”

Despite his hesitation at the moment, Jeno reluctantly moves on, the dinner eventually starting off easy enough with you raving over your love for the take-out menu he’s picked. It feels that way for a while as he listens to you recount updates from the crew at Neo Tech, your win at the last race that’s just marked your second five-win streak, a few tidbits about Jaemin and Gigi fooling around with each other. 

Still, even through your laughs and the way you accept his touch every now and then, there’s a quietness about you today, an edge to the smiles that doesn’t reach your eyes. 

The subtle pauses between your words, the heavy way your eyes linger on his figure whenever you think he isn’t looking—Jeno knows there’s something on your mind, even if you’re not saying it. 

It isn’t until later, after the plates are cleared and the hues of oranges have faded to a blue evening outside the windows of his place, that your voice breaks the silence of his room. 

“You’re not really a mechanic, are you?”

The soft flow of the bedside lamp casts a warm glow to your features, seemingly devoid of any emotion. With your head resting against his chest, your fingers have been idly tracing patterns against his skin, though it immediately stops as you feel his sudden tension. 

The question hangs in the air for a second, Jeno’s heart beating hard enough that he’s sure you can hear it. 

You lift your head to look at him, your eyes quietly searching for answers. “I mean… you’re good at it, you’re an amazing racer, but—” you pause, exhaling deeply despite the ease that you continue. “It just doesn’t add up, Jeno. I think you’re something else, and… I think I know that.”

It’s clear that you’re giving him a chance to deny, to tell you that you’re wrong. The tiny hint of hope in your eyes slowly fades away as his silence stretches, serving more than a spoken confirmation as it quietly tells you everything. 

“Vic told me,” you say, voice barely a whisper. “He said you’re an agent.”

As you acknowledge the truth in the open, Jeno’s stomach sinks, a wave of unease crashing over him. He’d known that this moment would come, but not like this, not there or today or with you looking up at him like that. 

“Is he telling the truth?” you ask, arms wrapping around knees as you sit up. “Is that why you’re here? Is that why you’re… with me?”

Jeno can’t seem to find the right words to answer, hating himself the longer his silence grows between you. It seems to be your breaking point too, leaving the bed to stand up a few feet away from him. 

A look of exasperation settles on your face, sharp eyes glaring at him. “You’re not denying it, Jeno,” you urge him, your voice breaking for a second before you huff a bitter laugh. “Are you kidding me? Was any of this real or just part of your job?”

The answer is quiet, his voice almost cracking. “It’s not like that—”

“Right, then what is it like?” you snap, raising an eyebrow in a mock challenge. “I’m sorry, but it looks like you’ve been lying to me the whole time.”

Jeno exhales shakily, a frown set between his eyebrows. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Didn’t have a choice?” you repeat, an ironic chuckle escaping from your mouth. “You had a choice to not approach me at all, you had a choice to lay me off ages ago, you had a choice to tell me the truth. How’s that for you?”

“It’s not that simple,” he argues, running a hand through his hair, jaw tensing for a moment. “I wanted to tell you, but… I just couldn’t. It’d put you in risk and I wasn’t about to do that.”

“So what? You just use me instead?” you start, anger crashing down as you suddenly grow quiet, your voice trembling. “Get close to me because it’d help with whatever you’re doing here?”

Jeno’s fists clench upon the tears brimming in your eyes, his breath turning shallow as he avoids your gaze. “No,” he mutters, firm enough to contrast against the flicker of dejection on his face. “This is not what this is.”

For a moment, he wonders if you’ve picked up the white lie, your expression unreadable as you simply watch him. He hates himself for lying to you, for letting you get close when he knew he couldn’t give you the truth. More than that, he hates how much he cares—how much losing you is feeling like losing something more important than his own job, than the entire investigation itself. 

Shaking your head with a finality that’s almost meant to defy him, you harshly wipe the tears off your eyes. “Let’s just not do this anymore.”

Once the words click, Jeno can’t help but freeze for a moment before panic surges through him as you walk around the room. With shaky hands, you quickly gather your clothes, not sparing a single side-eye towards his direction.

“Look at me,” Jeno calls, voice raising to a rougher tone as he sits up, trying to get a look at your face. “Hey, look at me!”

Your movements remain frantic as you shrug a jacket on, continuing to ignore him as if you hadn’t noticed the hard change to his demeanor. Without a word, you head straight to the door, the tension between you thick enough to feel suffocating. Jeno groans, his chest twisting in frustration and regret as he scrambles off the bed. 

Just as your hand reaches for the doorknob, his hand closes around your upper arm, pulling you back with a careful force.

You finally turn around to face him, hurt and anger laced to your features. “What?”

“I don’t want to see you at the next race,” Jeno orders, the weight of his stony eyes visibly surprising you for a second. “Don’t go.”

As you frown, your confusion is evident, body almost relaxing under his touch. “What?”

With a glare, he makes sure that the words are not a request, but rather a command. “Don’t come to the next race, Cherry.”

The anger in your gaze hardens into something more painful as you pull your arm from his grasp. “Fuck off, Jeno,” you say, the venom in your words cutting deep as you open the door, this time without hesitation. “I’m the one that doesn’t want to see you at the next race.” 

The door closes with a simple click, sounding miserably loud to the silence of his apartment now. 

Jeno’s fingers curl into fists at his side, a ragged breath escaping from his lips as he stares blankly at it. Though the thought feels just as hollow as his lies, Jeno tells himself that maybe it’s better this way. After all, the job does demand sacrifice—relationships, connections, anything that can possibly jeopardize his missions. 

Now left with the company of his heavy heart, Jeno wonders how many times he’ll have to tell that lie in order to convince himself instead.

The night air feels thick with tension as Jeno comes to a stop outside the warehouse, parking in a spot away from the usual crowd and their curious eyes. The race’s just about to start, a few cars already lining up with the blasting music in the background as usual. 

Race days are always charged with a raw energy that he’s grown accustomed to, one that never failed to make him feel alive—but today, it feels skeptically different.

Jeno can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong tonight, despite Doyoung having already warned him about the change of plans in the investigation after his cover was blown by Victor. For a moment, he wonders if that’s just his mind playing games. While keeping his distance from you, Jeno has been subconsciously waiting for the other shoe to drop, anticipating you to eventually expose him. 

His arrival plays out as nothing out of the ordinary though, Jaemin and Taeyong waving off from a distance as he steps out of the car, walking through the swarm of people to scan the racers of the night. 

A part of him knew it was futile to warn you off the race, no matter how much he didn’t want you anywhere near the place tonight, regardless of the operation falling apart or not. It almost surprises him to not spot your Mazda at the starting line until he sees you, standing a few feet away from the grid while talking to Gigi, both of you visibly bickering.

He knows that your presence’s probably making things a lot more complicated to him. 

The frustration quietly builds in his chest, mostly out of his own impotence than your choice to disregard his instruction. After all, the more he thought about it, the more he realized—if Vic knows about him and has kept quiet the entire time except to turn you against him, Jeno can’t really protect you, not without giving himself away or ruining the investigation entirely. 

Given they most definitely are getting too close to Victor’s home, it feels fitting for the man to pull his own strings somehow. 

The man’s presence at the race today is a dead giveaway of that, standing by his black Charger with a few of his shady-looking guards, watching the audience with an air of stress to his face. Jeno can’t help noticing the way his eyes keep flickering through the lot and the racers, almost as if expecting something. 

Not having enough time to prod further, Jaemin suddenly approaches with a pat to his back, eyeing him with a flicker of both curiosity and exasperation in his gaze.

“You should probably fix whatever happened between you and Cherry,” the mechanic starts, snickering almost bitterly. “If neither of you are racing, who’s going to make this entire thing exciting?”

A chuckle escapes from his lips, Jeno relaxing for a second as he shakes his head at the guy. “I bet Gigi would love to hear that.”

“Please, it doesn’t seem like it but Gigi worships her,” Jaemin discloses, the playfulness on his face quickly fading to a mock warning look in his direction. “Don’t tell Cherry that if you don’t want Gigi to fuck you up.”

Before he can respond, the cars roar to life with Johnny’s voice, revving engines interrupting the conversation as the usual procedure starts. 

The crowd tenses once the countdown starts, flag up in the air. 

Then, a sharp screech of tires breaks through, the sound of approaching sirens getting louder by the second, flashes of blue and red lights quickly surrounding the warehouse. The crowd scatters around in a frenzy, running off in panic while the racers attempt to break through the chaos through a few secret exits. 

This is part of his job—the chaos, the unpredictability, the apprehension. Jeno knows better to keep it cool, keep the cover intact for as long as he can despite everything, even if it means keeping you out of it.

But you aren’t leaving. 

With Jaemin hurrying off, shouting something about meeting at the garage and finding Gigi over the booming sirens, Jeno’s eyes easily find you in the havoc of people. You’re frozen in place, simply watching the commotion with wide, confused eyes. 

“Get out of here!” he yells, shoving through the crowd as he rushes towards your direction, his outstretched hand waving you off. “Cherry! You need to fucking leave!”

You barely acknowledge him before staring at something else. Following your fixed gaze, Jeno finds Vic standing still at the same spot, unphased by the madness surrounding him.  

Something about his calmness, his tranquility in the middle of the chaos doesn’t sit right with Jeno. It’s been long proved by the investigation that Victor Torres isn’t exactly on the up-and-up, but seeing him there, just watching the mess unfold in a way that feels almost detached makes a pin immediately drop in Jeno’s mind.

Whatever’s happening tonight was not an accident—it was planned.

As he approaches you, Jeno quickly grabs your arm, guiding you away from the commotion when a sudden bang echoes through the air. Over his shoulder, he watches your body suddenly lurch as something sharp seems to cross your shoulder. You stumble, your hand instinctively reaching for the spot as Jeno pulls you closer, holding you steady as his eyes frantically search for something.

The sight of blood running from your neck and down your arm surprises him, anxiety rushing through his body as he exhales shakily. “Fuck!”

“Jeno,” you call, eyes wide with shock as your shaky hands fist his jacket. “What the hell is happening?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno answers, trying to keep his voice steady in an attempt to mend the visible fear in your eyes. “You’re going to be okay, we’ll get out here.”

A burst of gunfire sends the place into mayhem again, both of you almost losing balance over your feet as Jeno half-carries you, shielding you with his body on the escape. 

It feels like a lifetime until you reach his car, the way your body grows weaker by each second sending chills down his spine. He’s quick to help you onto the passenger seat, slamming the door shut and rushing to the driver’s side, barely managing to reach for his phone before emergency-calling Doyoung. 

It rings once, the agent’s distressed voice coming off the speaker just as Jeno starts the engine. “What’s happening?”

“You fucking tell me, Doyoung,” he starts, the tone suddenly ragged in anger as he reverses out of the corner, picking up speed while expertly dodging the few stray racers still around. “Why the fuck is the police here? I thought the plans had changed—why the fuck are they here opening gunfire out of nowhere?”

“The police’s there?” Doyoung asks, giving away his aggravation even through the phone. “We didn’t send anyone, the plans really have changed. Can’t you identify them?”

“There’s no time for that,” he bites back, hands tightening around the steering wheel as he takes a look at your unmoving, quiet figure. “She’s been shot, I’m taking her to the hospital.”

“Shit,” the agent curses, an uncharacteristic behavior that feels fitting to the sudden weight of the situation. “I’m calling the team, we’ll see what we can do. I’ll meet you at the hospital, wait for me.”

The call disconnects as Jeno takes a back exit inside the warehouse, acutely aware of your silence. You’re gripping the seat with loose fingers, breathing uneven as you stare ahead, eyes unfocused. As his Skyline reaches an empty alley on the way out of the lot, Jeno presses the accelerator harder, feeling as if there’s not much time left. 

“Look at me,” Jeno calls, the words ironically bringing a bad taste to his mouth as he presses you, still not looking at him. “Cherry, look at me!”

As you turn to him, your eyes are looking far too unfocused and dazed for his comfort. “Where’s Jaemin and Gigi?”

“At the garage,” he says, rushing to answer with an ease that he isn’t currently feeling. “They’re fine. I’ll call them—they’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Jeno feels his composure crack the longer he looks at you, taking in the blood staining your clothes and the way your breath’s slowly growing uneven. The road stretches ahead as he speeds further, though all he can focus on is the time slipping through his fingers no matter how fast he’s driving.

Pulling into the hospital’s entrance, the tires of his GT-R screeching against the asphalt, Jeno doesn’t even bother parking properly. 

As he hurries to your side, his movements grow increasingly desperate upon noticing you abruptly losing consciousness. Swinging the door open, Jeno scoops you into his arms, your head falling against his chest as your breathing slows down. 

The staff immediately rush to him as he walks through the sliding doors of the ER, fast to take you from his hold. The sight of your unconscious figure on the stretcher feels crushing, leaving him to just stand there with clenched fists as a sense of helplessness seems to weigh him down on the spot. 

It’s just when Jeno hears Doyoung calling for his name that he breaks out of the trance, turning around to find the agent’s disgruntled, but worried figure quickly approaching him. 

“Hey,” Doyoung greets, the low tone not masking the urgency laced to it. “How’s she doing?”

Stepping back to lean against the hospital’s wall, he can’t help huffing humorlessly. “What the fuck was that, Doyoung?”

“I’m still not sure, our team’s still looking into it,” the agent answers right away, sighing tensely as he glances knowingly at the youngest. “It definitely wasn’t us… but taking a wild guess? I don’t think the police were part of it.”

Jeno’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Are you saying that was Victor?”

Doyoung shrugs, scoffing a dry laugh. “He’s got the means for it, that’s for sure,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest with an eye-roll. “With us pushing back the operation, he had more than enough time to plan something.”

With a frustrated exhale, Jeno runs a hand over his face, features hardening into a frown for a second. “Listen, I don’t think my cover’s blown—”

“Don’t worry about that,” Doyoung interjects, cutting him off with a firm, yet reassuring nod. “We’ll handle the fall-out, Jeno.”

Over the older agent’s shoulder, Jeno suddenly spots Jaemin hurrying into the hospital. The mechanic’s eyes dart around the room for a moment until finding him, suspiciously eyeing the scene before taking a few steps closer. Noticing the shift on Jeno’s face, Doyoung follows his gaze, raising an eyebrow as Jaemin stops beside them. The agent is quick to take the hint, clapping Jeno’s shoulder before leaving with a mumble about needing coffee. 

Jaemin breaks the silence first, his usual playful features heavy with a mix of concern and exhaustion. “What happened? Is Cherry okay?”

Unsure of how much to reveal given his position, Jeno can’t help hesitating. “She got caught in the middle of gunfire,” he replies, pausing for a moment before glancing apologetically at the mechanic. “I got her out as fast as I could.”

“We’ve been safe for years, the cops have never bothered us before,” Jaemin argues, nervously running a hand through his hair, frowning in confusion. “Why today?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jeno answers, trying to keep the tone as steady as possible despite the truth behind the words. “It didn’t seem like they were targeting anyone specific, if that’s worth anything.”

As Jaemin regards Jeno for a second, a chuckle escapes from his mouth, the sound coming off sharply. “She told me.”

He feels his chest tighten, taken aback by the unexpected twist. “What?”

“You’re a cop, right?” the mechanic asks, voice down to a quieter, solemn tone. “Cherry told me everything and made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone, not even you or Gigi.”

Shaking his head with a deep breath, Jeno feels the weight of his persona pressing down on him heavier than ever. “I’m sorry.”

Jaemin shrugs, surprising him by huffing a short laugh. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” he says, a flicker of something softer crossing his eyes. “Just… whatever you’re planning, make sure it doesn’t screw both of you over more than it already has.”

The nurse’s voice suddenly cuts the conversation, Jeno faltering for a moment as both of them look up at the same time, their shared tensions immediately replaced by a sense of relief with over words.

“One of you can go in and see her now.”

The soft beeping of the monitor fills the silence of the hospital room, contrasting with the lingering, annoying buzz still echoing in your ears. The bandage on your neck feels perfectly snug, covering the bullet’s graze almost down to your shoulder. 

After the chaos of earlier, you can’t help but feel misplaced once the nurse leaves, unconsciously replaying the entire night in your mind—the loud, sharp gunfire, the panic in his voice during your escape, the detachment you’d fallen into. It doesn’t take long until Jeno slowly steps into the room, features guarded despite the softness in his eyes upon meeting yours. 

There’s a sense of hesitation in the way he moves, almost as if he’s unsure of his own presence around you. Taking a seat by the chair beside your bed, the silence between you holds for a second, only for Jeno to break it with a tired sigh first. 

“Hey,” he greets quietly, glancing at the bandage on your neck with a touch of attentiveness. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug instinctively, the stiffness in your movements betraying a light discomfort. “It wasn’t as bad as it felt,” you say, placing a careful hand over the bandage with a dry chuckle. “It was just a graze. I’m just bad at handling stress and blood, apparently.”

Jeno leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you, his features looking nothing but distressed. “I’m really sorry, Cherry.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, a bitter smile almost tugging at your mouth. “For what, exactly? The cops raiding us or the lies you’ve been telling me?”

“For all of it,” Jeno answers, the words firm and steady, willingly taking the bite behind your question. “I know it’s not an excuse, but my team’s not involved in whatever happened. We’re looking into it, but…”

At the sudden pause, you lean back against the pillows on your bed, letting out a weary sigh. “Why do I feel like I know what you’re going to say?”

Jeno chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head with a grimace. “I think… I should tell you the truth about me first, right?” he begins, taking a deep breath before locking his eyes with yours again. “I’m an undercover agent. I was assigned to this case a few months ago, to investigate Victor and his crew.”

You swallow hard, doing your best to keep yourself from reacting despite the weight of his confession, the implications subtle. “What does Vic have to do with this?”

“He’s the head of an international smuggling operation in the city,” he reveals, almost looking apologetic over the words. “Everything you can think of, he’s got it—money laundering, trafficking, weapon deals. We’ve been looking into his business for a while, but it’s… complicated. He’s careful, his crew’s good.”

“Is that why you got involved with me?” you ask, the tone of your voice thoughtful, yet not particularly soft. “Did you think I was working for him?”

As he frowns, Jeno’s gaze hardens for a moment. “I’m not lying to you anymore, so I won’t say that I didn’t.”

With a hum, the words are quick to slip out of your mouth, almost too casually for the situation. “I’ve been looking into him too, you know,” you admit, chuckling quietly at the surprise on his face. “After that night, I started digging a little. I’m sure you know how easy it is to connect the dots if you keep your ears open around the racers.”

Jeno sighs, his eyebrows furrowing apologetically. “Cherry—”

“I’m not working for him,” you interrupt, frustration and disappointment laced to your broken exhale. “I don’t know what you know, but I—”

Reaching over for your hand, Jeno gently stops you from fidgeting. “I know you’re not,” he cuts in firmly, his gaze locking onto yours, the heaviness in his voice softening. “I know, baby.”

The unexpected nickname hangs in the air, catching both of you off guard. As the surprise breaks through your frustration, Jeno seems just as much taken aback, his lips parted as if realizing the slip a little too late. For a moment, the weight of the moment shifts, leaving a charged silence between you.

“So, what are you going to do now?” you ask, clearing your throat as if to recompose yourself, looking away from him. “Are you keeping the cover and continuing the investigation?”

“The investigation’s compromised now so…” Jeno hesitates, huffing a peeved laugh before slumping back against his seat. “I’ll probably have to leave. Victor knows who I am and if I stay… it’ll be just dangerous for everyone.”

You nod slowly, heart aching in a way you hadn’t anticipated. “You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,” you say quietly, managing a playful smile despite the tears burning in your eyes, threatening to fall. “For what it’s worth, I don’t regret any of it. It was nice trusting you, Jeno… even if only for a little while.”

He looks at you then, his expression pained as a shaky sigh escapes from his mouth. “Cherry—”

Shaking your head, you silently fist his jacket to pull him up, Jeno immediately following as he stands up with a step closer to the bed. As he leans closer, carefully holding himself over your figure, you cup his face gently. Your fingertips brush against his cheeks, moving to his lips before you close the distance, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. 

The struggle in his eyes is clear as you pull back, though Jeno doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods, forehead resting against yours for just a moment more before he stands up.

With a long look at you, Jeno pulls a set of keys from his jeans, reaching for your hand and dropping them into your palm. A genuine, incredulous laugh escapes from your lips over the realization, immediately drawing a small smile out of him. 

“You take care of yourself, Cherry,” he says softly, the nickname carrying more emotion than ever before.

You nod, a half-hearted, teasing smile slowly growing on your face despite the ache in your chest. “I’ll see you around, Jeno.”

As the door clicks shut behind him, you know that this the end of whatever it was you’d built together—but only the beginning of something you’ll have to build alone now.

“I can’t believe this is your first vacation since joining the agency.”

Stepping out of the elevator, Jeno lets out a soft laugh at Doyoung’s exasperation, the man walking beside him as they make their way through the lobby.

Despite the cool air conditioning of the building, the bright sunlight slipping through the glass doors hints at another warm, heavy summer day outside. Jeno tugs at the tie around his neck, loosening the knot before undoing the first buttons of his shirt.

“Taking days off under orders is hardly a vacation,” he replies, his tone dry but laced with humor.

Doyoung huffs, shaking his head as they near the building’s exit. “God knows you need some time off,” the agent argues, glancing at him knowingly. “Maybe you should go to the beach these days, you could use some vitamin D—”

As his friend continues the spiel, Jeno quickly glances outside, about to step through the glass doors when his attention’s caught by an unexpected, but familiar sight. 

Outside the agency’s building, the green Nissan Skyline GT-R contrasts with the muted, neutral colors from the other cars driving through the same street. Sitting at the hood of the car, flipping a cherry red lollipop between your fingers, you look like a mirage to Jeno’s eyes, maybe a vision brought by the heat from outside.

“—not listening to me?”

He blinks at Doyoung after a second, startled by the agent’s hand waving in front of his face. “What?”

With a suspicious frown, Doyoung trails his eyes in the same direction, a sound of surprise instantly escaping from his lips. “Is that who I think it is?”

He nods, resisting the smirk tugging at his mouth. “Yeah.” 

As recognition suddenly flickers in the agent’s gaze, a scoff escapes from his lips over the car, his tone laced with disbelief. “So that’s where the Skyline we gave you went?” 

Jeno chuckles, offering a half-hearted shrug at his friend. “I paid for it.”

“She’s technically a criminal,” Doyoung starts, more playful than anything, giving him a mock indignant glance. “You do know that, right? It might not seem like it but street racing is illegal—”

“I’ll see you later, Doyoung.”

Jeno’s voice cuts the oldest’s teasing, moving to step ahead through the door as Doyoung snickers behind him, shaking his head in amusement. 

It doesn’t take long for you to notice him approaching, your lips soon curling in a soft, somehow teasing smile. Despite his surprise, Jeno doesn’t hesitate stepping closer, moving to stand between your legs in a familiar move.

“Hey,” you greet, offering a pat to his chest in a coy manner. “Long time no see, huh?”

“Seven months, exactly,” Jeno answers, giving a firm nod before raising a curious eyebrow at you. “I’m not complaining, but what are you doing here?”

You sigh exaggeratedly, tilting your head at him. “You know words are quick to get around, right? I heard your first vacation ever starts today.”

“You’ve heard it right,” he says, smirking at your antics as if the past months hadn’t happened, a sense of familiarity settled between you.

As you smile, something softer flickers in your gaze. “So I was thinking… if you’ve got some time off, maybe you’d want to spend it doing something cool,” you start, shrugging lightly. “You know, like going for a drive or racing with someone?”

For a moment, Jeno can only stare at you, still taken aback by your abrupt appearance. Then, without thinking twice, he suddenly closes the distance between you, hands reaching for your face as his lips finally meet yours again. Smiling against his mouth, you lean back as your palms rest against the car’s hood, the kiss so unhurried and lingering that Jeno almost pushes you down against it after a while. 

When you pull away, his lips still following you for a split second, a smile grows on your face.

“So,” you say softly, your voice laced with amusement. “Is that a yes?”

Jeno grins, hands on your hips as he pulls you off the Skyline, arms holding you closer as if you’ve never left.

“Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

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[mortallydeepestobservation]

The Case of Us.

Summary: You and Namjoon are an unlikely pair, clashing from the start. He’s a seasoned detective, used to working alone and running on instinct. You, a rookie, fresh off acing your detective exam, ready to prove yourself. At first, you butt heads—your sharp, hardheaded approach grating against his calm, measured demeanor. But there's an undeniable pull between the two of you, an unspoken understanding that begins to form as you both tackle case after case. Through the chaos of the job, you rely on each other more and more. And though you're still figuring out the balance between the stubborn rookie and the seasoned detective, you both know one thing for certain—you're a hell of a team. A/N: Oh Hey everyone... So, I did it again—I got overwhelmed by life and felt the need to write... And you know the drill. (I ended up re-reading Chapter 4 of Holiday Pretense so many times that I couldn’t tell what was repeating and what was just my brain spiraling. And i guess I rage-quit for the day) So instead, I ended up writing something completely different. But this time, it's really random and far "into the story". Also, that pancake dialogue is loosely inspired by a conversation from "Castle"-oldish detective serries i love to this day. Call it a teaser if you will? (I wanna know if anyone would be interested in something like this.) (besides those 5 wips i have already lol. i need professional help 😓🥲) (thank you always @callmenoona25 for proofreading. love you) Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: detective/ thriller. neo noir(?) Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: Guns. Mentions of serial killers and bodies. Crimes. Corpses. police/detective lingo. Detective Yoongi and Jungkook being the best duo. (Also, if you know me. I tend to keep it light- not very gore. But i do have a genuine obsession with true crime/detective stories/criminology. So this might turn off some readers. proceed at your own discretion) tag list: @uniquetravelerone @sexytholland @codeinebelle @annyeongbitch7 @rpwprpwprpwprw @goldietigers294 @amarawayne @oneshallsmile

The dead of night. The scent of rain still clung stubbornly to the damp, heavy air, even hours after the downpour had stopped. Your tv was on, though it was on mute.

Then you heard it.

A sound—a shuffle by the doorway.

Instinct took over. The lights went dark in an instant, your hand moving with practiced ease to the gun at your hip. You gripped it tight, steady, breath held as you listened.

The sounds didn’t stop. The lock turned. The knob twisted.

Before the intruder could take a step inside, you struck—slamming your full weight against him, pinning him to the doorframe, gun pressed firm against his throat.

“Holy shit-!”

A familiar voice. Your grip tightened for just a second before recognition set in.

“Namjoon?”  you didn’t lower the gun.

“Who else would it be?” his tone was maddeningly casual, one hand gripping your wrist, pushing the barrel down to his chest, right above his heart. “Just— don’t shoot the face.”

Your pulse was still hammering in your ears, the rush of the adrenaline refusing to fade. You let out a slow breath, easing the gun off his chest but not fully lowering it.

Namjoon let out a short chuckle- half amused, half exasperation. “Nice to see you too,” he muttered, rolling his shoulder as if shaking off the impact.

“You could’ve called.” you shot back, eyes still sharp, scanning his face in the dim light. he looked tired, damp hair falling messily over his forehead, his clothes wrinkled like he’d been running all night.

“And argue with you over the phone?” he asked, rubbing at his throat where the gun had pressed, “I think it worked out better this way.”

Your gaze flicked to the door, still slightly ajar. “You picked the lock?!”

He shrugged. “Old habits.”

You exhaled through your nose, finally lowering the gun all the way. “What the hell are you doing here, Namjoon?”

His smirk faltered slightly. For the first time, you noticed the tension in his jaw, the way is fingers curled slightly over the damp paper bags he was carrying.

“I-” he took a breath, like the confession hurt, “I’m worried about you.”

You huff, incredulous, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. Clearly.” he gestured vaguely towards the gun in your hand. “Doesn’t change the fact that as your supervisor and partner, I worry about you.” He moved with ease, setting the bags on your kitchen table, leaving a trail of wet footsteps all across your tile floor.

“Namjoon, I’m not a rookie anymore.”

Namjoon let out a quiet sigh, rubbing a hand over his face before leaning against the counter. “I never said you were.”

You crossed your arms, watching him. “Then stop treating me like one.”

His eyes flicked to yours—sharp, unreadable. “If you want me to stop, then quit making it so damn easy to worry.”

That shut you up for a second.

The weight of his words lingered in the space between you, thick as the humidity still clinging to the air. You glanced at the paper bags on the table, the edges crumpled from his grip. “What’s this?”

“Dinner.” He peeled one open, pulling out a takeout container. “Figured you haven’t eaten.”

You frowned, but your stomach betrayed you with a quiet growl. Namjoon heard it—of course he did—and the smirk that tugged at his lips made you want to shoot him just on principle.

“I was going to eat.”

“Yeah?” He arched a brow, flipping open the container. “What, exactly? Stale instant noodles? Maybe those grotesque granola bars you like to keep in your purse and only eat after they expire?”

You huffed but didn’t deny it.

Namjoon grabbed a pair of chopsticks and held them out. “Sit. Eat.”

“Is this standard procedure with all your trainees?” The sarcasm was thick in your voice, but you still took a seat across from him.

“Just the ones that get themselves targeted by serial killers.”

Your grip on the chopsticks faltered for just a second.

Then you scoffed. “That supposed to be a joke?”

Namjoon didn’t laugh. Didn’t even blink.

Your stomach twisted.

“I’m serious.” His voice had dropped, low and steady, the kind that sent a chill down your spine. “We need to talk.”

You eyed him warily, then set the container down. “About what?”

Namjoon exhaled, rubbing at his temple like he already regretted this conversation. “There was another one.”

Your fingers curled instinctively around the edge of the table. “Where?”

“Downtown. Two blocks from our last case.”

You didn’t need him to elaborate. Your mind was already connecting the dots, pulling up images you didn’t want to see.

Same M.O.? You almost asked, but you already knew the answer.

Namjoon watched you carefully, like he was waiting for the realization to hit.

It did.

“That’s why you’re here.” The words tasted bitter. “You think I’m next.”

His jaw tightened. “And you clearly agree. Why else would you sleep with your gun strapped to your hip?”

“I think you guys are overreacting.”

“Is that why you called the protection detail off? You were supposed to have uniforms watching you right now.”

“The captain is being absurd.” You take a bite of rice “Much like you are right now.” You argue between mouthfuls.

“You’re impossible.” He watched you with that usual superior look of his, that challenging glare that made your blood boil.

“So, what? You decided to break in and deliver takeout because you think I have a target on my back?”

Namjoon’s expression didn’t shift. If anything, his silence spoke louder than any answer he could’ve given.

Your stomach churned—not from the food, but from the implications hanging between you.

He wasn’t here just because he thought you were in danger.

He was here because he knew you were.

“I’m staying the night.”

You snapped. “Oh, like hell you are!”

Namjoon didn’t flinch. He just set down his chopsticks and looked you dead in the eye, his gaze unwavering.

“I’m staying the night,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You shot him a look that could cut glass, but his expression didn’t change. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn't quite place.

“Not a chance, Namjoon,” you snapped, pushing yourself away from the table. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No, you need to not get killed.”

The words snapped like a gunshot between you, sharp and final.

Neither of you spoke.

Outside, the rain threatened to start again, fat droplets tapping against the glass.

You held his stare, your jaw clenched and shoulders squared, the air between you so tense it felt like either of you might snap.

“Fine.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “But you sleep on the couch.”

Namjoon’s lips twitched into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Deal,” he said, nodding in silent agreement as he slowly backed away from the table. He didn’t argue further—there was nothing left to say once the terms were set. “I also got us a bottle of wine to celebrate you finally taking an order from me.”

“You’re impossible,” you counter, using his earlier line.

You resumed eating, though the rice had lost its appeal. Each bite felt heavy, burdened by the tension between you. Every clink of chopsticks and scrape of ceramic against the table punctuated the silence like a metronome counting down the moments until something else would shatter the uneasy calm.

Namjoon didn’t respond immediately, his gaze drifting toward the kitchen counter, where the bottle of wine sat like a silent witness to the strange turn of events. He seemed content to let the silence stretch between you, his presence still an unspoken weight in the room.

The tension was thick, almost suffocating, but you didn’t care to break it. Not yet. The thoughts swirling in your head—the things you hadn’t said out loud—kept you rooted in place. The noise of the rain outside, once soothing, now only added to the discomfort that crawled under your skin.

Namjoon poured two glasses of wine, his movements slow and deliberate. When he placed one in front of you, you took it without a word. He watched you for a beat, his eyes searching, trying to gauge what was really going on beneath the surface.

You took a sip, the warmth of the wine doing little to ease the cold unease that wrapped around you. The day, the case, everything was starting to feel too close, too personal. And Namjoon’s silent presence wasn’t helping, no matter how much it was meant to comfort.

After a few minutes, Namjoon cleared his throat softly, watching you look down into your glass. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I set up my gear in the living room?” he asked, voice low. “Just in case we need to move fast.”

You frowned, glancing toward the door where the muted TV light played over the wall. “It’s your turn to be my backup tonight,” you muttered, half teasing, half warning.

He raised an eyebrow. “You know I never leave your side—even if I’m on the couch,” he replied, a trace of amusement in his tone that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You shot him a sidelong look, then set your glass down. “Get your things, Namjoon. And for the record, I’d prefer not to have a detective rummaging through my living room,” you added, attempting to lighten your tone despite the unease creeping in.

He smirked. “I’ll try to behave,” he said with a wink that belied the seriousness behind his words.

Moments later, the quiet hum of preparation filled the apartment. Namjoon unpacked his duffel bag with the methodical precision of someone who’d been in high-stakes situations far too many times. You found yourself glancing repeatedly at the window, where the rain began to fall again in earnest, drumming against the glass like a ragged heartbeat.

“I’ll fetch you some blankets.”

“A few pillows too.”

You chuckle, “Do you want a facemask too?”

Namjoon looked up from his bag, a playful glint in his eyes despite the tension hanging in the air. “Only if it comes with a side of earplugs,” he teased, the corner of his lips twitching upward.

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the table and moving toward the closet “Yeah, baby boy needs his beauty sleep.”

You tossed the blanket and pillows onto the couch, but as you straightened up, the sound of the rain outside seemed to deepen, becoming almost repetitive in its heaviness. For a moment, neither of you spoke—just the low hum of the apartment and the soft drum of water against glass.

Namjoon broke the silence with a more serious note. “Try and get some rest. You’ve had a long week.”

You paused, turning to face him, your gaze met his, and for a moment, the usual banter was gone, replaced by something more sincere—something that tugged at the edges of your own quiet worry. You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come right away, and you debated if you even wanted to let them out.

“Thank you.”

Namjoon’s gaze softened, the seriousness in his face fading into something just slightly softer.

He nodded slowly, as if accepting your gratitude, though his lips didn’t curve into a smile. There was something grounding about the way he held your gaze, like he understood more than you were saying.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he murmured, his voice low, but the words carried weight. “It’s what we do.”

You exhaled quietly, finally giving in to the tension in your shoulders. “Yeah, well... it’s still nice to hear.” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding, the soft edge to your tone. “Thank you for being here. And for dinner.”

“It’s no problem,” he said quietly, his voice steady but gentle. “You know I’ve got your back.”

“Yeah.” You still sigh despite yourself, pushing towards the bedroom “Goodnight Joon.”

Namjoon watched you as you moved toward the bedroom, his eyes soft, but there was a hint of something unreadable in them. He remained silent for a moment, just watching you before speaking in that calm, reassuring tone of his.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, though his voice lingered in the space between you, grounding you in the moment.

You didn’t turn back, but his presence, quiet and constant, felt like a weight lifted, even just for tonight. The quiet murmur of the rain outside seemed softer, less oppressive as you closed the door behind you.

~~~

The smell of pancakes felt foreign in your apartment. The rich, buttery scent filled the air, its warmth cutting through the cool, damp atmosphere of the morning. You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the grogginess, your mind still hazy from sleep. It took a few seconds for you to process what was happening.

Namjoon.

You could hear the faint sound of him humming, the clink of utensils, the quiet sizzle of batter on the griddle. The peacefulness of it felt almost surreal after the tension of the night before.

Rubbing your eyes, you stepped out of the bedroom, the coolness of the floor beneath your feet grounding you back in reality. You walked toward the kitchen, where Namjoon was flipping pancakes like he’d done this a hundred times in your kitchen—like he belonged there.

He glanced up when you appeared, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it was the kind of smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. The weight of last night still hung in the air between you.

“Morning,” he greeted softly, the scent of coffee following the pancakes.

You blinked at the scene, still a little dazed. “Did you... make this?” You gestured toward the stack of golden pancakes, the syrup bottle, and the neatly placed plates.

“I wanted to make eggs. But they expired last year, and your bacon had something growing on it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We need to go to the precinct.”

“Will you relax? Just sit down and eat.”

You shot him a look, but he was already plating another pancake, as if he were completely unfazed by the chaos that had defined your life for the last few days.

“I’m serious, Namjoon. We don’t have time for breakfast. The precinct is waiting, and you’ve got a duty.” You gestured vaguely to the mess of plates and syrup bottles, your voice tightening slightly despite the absurdity of the moment.

He turned to you with an almost exasperated expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You need food. We both do. The precinct will be there when we're ready. In the meantime, we sit. We eat. You get a few minutes to breathe.”

You huffed in frustration but couldn't deny the logic behind his words. He was right, you were barely functioning on caffeine and adrenaline, and you needed a break—even if just for a few minutes.

“Fine,” you muttered, sitting down at the table. “But as soon as we're done, we're out the door. No more distractions.”

Namjoon gave you a nod, his tone still light. “Oh, I forgot the newspaper.” He turned off the stove and did his little half-jog to the door.

But as soon as he twisted the doorknob, the door slammed open against the weight of the body propped against it. A sickening thud reverberating through the apartment. Your heart skipped a beat as the sight of the corpse registered in an instant—its pale, lifeless face staring up at you, eyes vacant and unseeing. The air in the room felt like it had thickened, the weight of the situation crashing down on you.

Namjoon froze for a moment, his hand still on the doorknob. Then, without a word, he stepped back, his body moving with precision as he grabbed his cell and tossed it to you.

“Call the precinct.” He instructed, fetching his gun in an instant “And stay back.”

Your fingers trembled as you caught the phone, the shock still running through your veins. You barely registered the coldness of the device against your palm, too focused on the scene in front of you. The body. The blood that had pooled around it, seeping into the carpet like it was part of the apartment itself.

You fumbled with the phone, dialling the precinct, your breath hitching in your throat. The line rang once, twice, before someone picked up, their voice professional, unaware of the horror unfolding in your living room.

“112, what’s your emergency?”

“This is Detective Hwang, badge number 1209. There’s a body on my front door.”

The voice on the other end of the line shifted instantly, now alert. “Detective Hwang, stay on the line. Is the scene secure? Do you need assistance?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice tight as you tried to steady your breathing. “We have a body. It's… propped against the door. Get someone here immediately.”

“Understood, Detective. Stay where you are. Officers are on their way. Do not engage with the scene further.”

You glanced over at Namjoon, who was crouched by the body now, his gun trained at the door as he assessed the situation. He didn't flinch or pause, moving with the practiced calm that had always been his trademark.

It took less than 8 minutes for your apartment to be crawling with uniforms, CSU, and of course, Detective Yoongi and Jungkook.

“So,” Jungkook was talking to Namjoon, merely a few steps away from where you sat at the kitchen table across from Yoongi. “Wine glasses.”

“Yeah, Namjoon brought dinner and wine.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Namjoon with a smirk. “Dinner and wine, huh? Cozy night in?”

Namjoon shot him a deadpan look. “It was supposed to be breakfast, too, until we were rudely interrupted by a corpse.”

Jungkook let out a low whistle, shaking his head “Pancakes?”

You glanced over at him, confused.

“So, nothing else happened?” Jungkook continued undeterred.

“Jungkook what are you on about?”

“Well, you know what they say about pancakes.” Yoongi replied, though his eyes were still glued to his notepad.

You narrowed your eyes, glancing between Yoongi and Jungkook. “Okay, I’ll bite. What do they say about pancakes?”

Jungkook grinned like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “Pancakes are the best way to say ‘Hey, thanks for that amazing sex last night.’”

You choked on absolutely nothing, spluttering as Namjoon let out the world’s longest sigh beside you.

“Oh my God,” Namjoon muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we not do this right now?”

Yoongi finally glanced up from his notepad, entirely unbothered. “It’s a well-documented theory.”

Jungkook nodded, very seriously. “Classic post-hookup breakfast. Means it was so good that one of you felt compelled to whip up something warm and sweet the next morning.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. “It was just breakfast, Jungkook.”

“Was it?” Jungkook teased, crossing his arms. “Because the way I see it, there are two wine glasses on the counter, Namjoon sleeping over, and pancakes on the table.”

Namjoon made a noise somewhere between a groan and a death rattle. “I hate all of you.”

You threw up your hands. “For the last time, nothing happened!”

Yoongi huffed, and Jungkook shook his head as he jotted down on his notepad “witness refuses to cooperate.”

You gawked at him. “Are you seriously writing that down?”

Jungkook nodded, scribbling dramatically. “Refuses to acknowledge the overwhelming evidence of post-coital carbohydrates-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

Namjoon, looking moments away from actual homicide, turned to Yoongi. “Please arrest him for obstruction.”

Yoongi barely held back a smirk. “Tempting.”

[maruyaaya]

some of my random neomachus headcanons bc i think abt them a lot while writing and sometimes just scrawl random notes like these in my notes app

neo is two years older than telemachus (it’s so hard to put greek mythology on a timeline but the way it makes the most sense to me is that achilles and deidamia have neo when achilles is 15 and then 2 years later, the trojan war starts and 17 year old achilles and 18/19 year old patroclus go to war. telemachus is born at round the start of the trojan war since he is 20 when odysseus returns and his journey took 20 years. so in the war’s tenth year, neo is 12 and telemachus is 10. so in my neomachus fic, neo is 22 and telemachus is 20)

neo is taller. neo has his father’s build so he’s tall and lean like achilles. i think telemachus takes after odysseus' height and he's rather short (still a little bit taller than odysseus though)

both neo and telemachus look like their fathers but with their mothers colourings. neo has deidamia’s red hair but achilles’ hazel eyes. telemachus has penelope’s blue eyes but odysseus’ brown hair.

sparring is their love language. neo wins nearly every single time, but it's a way for them to show affection

telemachus is a words of affirmation love language while neo is an acts of service love language

telemachus is really into physical touch. he’ll just randomly put his arm around neo’s shoulders or something like that and neo will fucking blue screen

modern au neo only listens to like mcr and føb. telemachus is a paramore stan. if they were on stantwt, they would hate each other—they'd get into so many stan wars and they'd be pqrting each other with death threats. telemachus would probably write a cancel thread on neo. then they'd fall in love and e-date

neo is surprisingly clingy and jealous. he def has attachment issues so whenever he sees telemachus getting along with someone (which is often bc telemachus is very charismatic and likeable), he starts to get all huffy and pouty. i think they'd probably fight over this bc telemachus hates it when neo is jealous, but neo can't help it

they bond over daddy issues. both of them had absent fathers and they love to talk shit abt their dads (they do love their dads, but sometimes it's aggravating)

neo is the epitome of guard dog privilege. he has resting bitch face and he constantly looks like he has murder on the mind. nobody dares to approach him and telemachus when neo is scowling

neo is very musically inclined while telemachus is tone deaf and it is the funniest thing ever to me. i imagine nobody has ever told telemachus that he's tone deaf so he honestly has no idea. neo will never ever tell him

on the other hand, i imagine telemachus being artistically inclined while neo cannot even draw a stick figure. idk i just really love the idea of them both being talented in different art forms. i think telemachus would be pretty good at writing as well, but he has godawful printing while neo has small, neat printing

telemachus is very charismatic while neo is very socially awkward and struggles with social cues. telemachus likes to fuck with him and tease him because neo is very oblivious. neo will never pick up on telemachus’ flirting. he has to hear I Am In Love With You in order to understand that telemachus is seriously flirting with him

TELEMACHUS IS SO TOTALLY A BOOK LOVER he reads like 100 books a year and he loves to read every genre though he particularly loves fantasy as well as litfic. if this is a modern au, i feel like neo is not a reader but instead is a film snob. they’re the goodreads x letterboxd dynamic

speaking of, telemachus would totally be a horror enjoyer to me. he just finds it so fun. i think neo also enjoys horror but not as much as telemachus

SO MANY OF THESE HAVE BEEN MODERN AU IM SORRY idk i just really love thinking abt modern au headcanons those are so fun ok ill leave this at that for now

[stringlessau]

IT'S STRINGLESS' 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY (+ early concept art compilation)

Posting this dumbass little video to start off the day since we have a lot of little gifts for our awesome community today.

One of those things is something i've been wanting to do for a very long while: posting a lot of the original concept art for stringless (since ive always enjoyed seeing other people's early concepts) some of these i have posted massively before, some are completely unseen, so it'll be fun

This one is the page that started it all, his design is at the same time largely unchanged and also completely different

All i have to say is that it originally said (regarding spamton and swatch) "they bicker like an old married couple" but then i thought about it and i changed it so theyre literally just married

Didnt mean to make swatchton, made it anyway lmfao

Right after that, i got working on neo designs, I wanted to make him really scary looking, the original concept was to make him look skeletal and generally for him to look insane and like he had been reanimated from the dead, but a lot of people had told me over time that they didn't really like the design, I was very defensive over it but I ended up taking criticism and i actually really like the new neo, it balances the uncanniness of the original design with the sleekness of my new art

Payton was a natural next step, without someone to sell the thorn ring there'd be no neo, so although his design visually stayed almost the same, he went through a lot of color revisions (thanks mostly to @maskedalterego, who helped me to nail his final color palette), he suggested the gloves, and helped me to balance the saturation of the design since really I've never had a good eye for color.

His final design, color wise, was just me experimenting using the colors of my sona at the time on him, which I was hesitant to do but was so happy with the palette that I kept it.

It's interesting that he was originally intended to be the pink addison (since he sells one of the snowgrave required rings), and the reason he ended up being the blue addison was corey beepington (and the eviction notice short which I have taken one too many concepts from), this still influenced me to make his outfit pink initially, which still is a huge part of his character design

That exact same night, I created concept art for Raster (weirdly, I was sure I created them before Payton, but it might be because I was generally uninterested in Payton earlier on), their design is also largely unchanged, I just got better with shapes and color, I also ended up changing their cheek markings after seeing some swatchton fanchild art by ne0nbandit

A first until now, the first concepts for payton neo were made on paper

I took very long on this design, and I only updated it every few weeks to make tweaks because I felt the concept was too good but my execution didnt make it justice

I'm very proud of how the design looks now, as of the latest neo redesigns, I feel I could finally make this idea justice

Swatch's design went through some last minute changes, I wanted to use this color palette for swatch to contrast with spamton, but decided against it, then i changed their hair to be longer, to make their Stringless design distinct from their regular Deltarune design

Historically, these two are pretty important, the first pieces of art I ever made featuring Rakhin's old design, when he wasn't part of stringless and I was just befriending rope (he made me Payton fanart first, fell in love with his style), the contrast is beautiful

Now to finish this post, here's some unseen Snowgrave route art I made over the time Stringless has been in development, they're all pretty quick sketches, but i love them nonetheless

Thanks everyone for the insane reception this AU has gotten, I haven't been feeling very good this whole year for a huge amount of reasons I can't get into, but Stringless and its community always helps me to remember why I do the things I do

Thanks for everyone's comments and everyone's kindness, thanks especially to @theropeaaa , for being the literal other half of this AU, without whom I couldn't have ever done the Stringless pages, @maskedalterego for helping me and listening to my ramblings since the start, @scamp-boxx for being this AU's biggest hype man (the first ever comment on the first spamton concept art was by them, and they helped me nail so much of the snowgrave route), @boykisserwoah and @weirdohno , for also being here from the start and making an absolutely insane amount of fanart oh my god, @gutamajunk , for motivating me to create Raster, and writing several story outlines on the first days of stringless that were the foundation for the pages, and diaryous milch and rory, our friends that have helped with character designs, story ideas, voice acting and have generally been instrumental to what stringless is today

THANKS EVERYONE <3

-Nick

[olderthannetfic]

So this caused a mildly big hoopla on a server. I introduced a new character for a side story in our DnD game. They don't yet have pronouns or a gender, it's basically just a character concept, like "Quest giver. Older. Dark hair. Violet eyes." and a very ominous sounding name/title, example "The wanderer"

Long story short, someone called the character "It" when I mentioned them not being being finished. I asked them to please not call them that "It" bc it sounds kinda dehumanizing, for now it's just They/Them until I've finalized the character for the session in 2-3 weeks.

Well, apparently the person who used the "It" pronouns went to some of the mods and said that what I said about it being dehumanizing in the context of my own character was making them feel unwelcome and that I was judging them. (They do NOT use the It/Itself pronouns) + the way I worded it made it seem like I hate people with neo-pronouns/hate queer people. (I'm fucking queer myself???????????? Like they are fucking reaching there.)

When the situation broke in the server a few people on the server also told me it wasn't cool, regardless of why I don't like it, and said I shouldn't have said that. It's my own fault, and I should have expected to get a backlash for discriminating.

I'm considering just dropping the campaign tbh. I spent days and weeks planning this. I wanted to do a side quest so they can get some extra points to lvl up since they're missing some levels for the next part of the campaign. And instead of maybe mentioning it to me first, this person tells on me, and calls me unsafe and discriminating. I've accommodate anyone who needed or wanted certain things added, changed or even removed. Even if it could be a bit of a hassle and caused replanning.

--

I'd probably drop it out of irritation, honestly. Do whatever will make you happiest in a month when you're not in the middle of your first reaction.

[skyler1290]

Alright, since the AU got the green light, I'll start posting the character's appearances, powers, and a few other things, starting with Dark Choco.

Again, I unfortunately can't draw, so instead, I'll have to write it all down.

Dark Choco Cookie:

Dark Choco Cookie’s Soul Jam is a half-black and half-white circle, a reference to yin and yang. His Soul Jam is the Light of Balance.

Dark Choco looks surprisingly like his father, the only things distinguishing who is who being height, body shape, eye color, their length of hair, and the fact that Dark Choco’s dough is faintly lighter than Frigid Cacao’s. The ex-prince usually wears a brown cape when not wearing a cloak, with his right eye being covered by a white cloth wrapped around his head (sideways).

He covered it unlike in the past for the reason that anything that reminded Dark Choco of Frigid Cacao in himself... was simply not worth being seen.

Due to that, he also cut his hair even shorter. He thought his long hair reminded others of his father (well, it sure reminded himself of him), and he didn't want that, like with his scar. His hairstyle isn't the buzz-cut type of short, however.

He cut it with his sword first, and Mercurial Knight used scissors to make it look less messy out of the kindness of his heart /hj.

A small, silver crown can be seen upon the cookie's head, and of course, he also wears his black armor set (he still wears it while wearing his cloak).

His Soul Jam is embedded into his crown.

-

Want to ask anything about this AU (not the Beast Ancients one but this fic of it that I've created)? If so, go ahead! I'll answer it. Maybe even some in-character responses will make it into certain answers.

I guess we can call this the Neo-Ancients Fic/AU? I have no idea. I haven't exactly decided the name.

Also, the 'Neo-Ancients' will definitely surround the found family trope. I feel like by the end of it all, they'll view eachother as siblings. Also, some aspects of their personalities may be a bit different from canon.

(Beast Ancients AU by @cuppajj )

[howlingday]

Hello Hollowing, my prompt is this: After team RWBY finds themselves in the Ever After, they are met by a small child happily waving and guiding them towards the Tree instead of a certain Cheshire cat. Soon they were guided to the tree, with a mansion carved within. With children that looked like recoloured versions of their guide happily waving toward RWBY. They meet Neo, and Jaune, the small older woman clealry pregnant, along with Mint, and Trivia, and a woman similar to neo called CC... basically I want Jaune to explain why he has a harem of Neos with constant flashbacks of each neo having babymaking sex with him. With CC requires everyone else to overcome her instability. Blame Fatally Obsessed. I do not know why I make statements instead of questions.

Ah, okay.

This is way less terrible than I thought it would be.

---------------------------------------------------

This world is weird. Like, super weird. No, but like, SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPER weird! Like, think of the weirdest thing you could think of, and it wouldn't be half as weird as what this was.

Okay, maybe not THAT weird, but it was weirder than Remnant, at least. Game pieces moved around, walking and talking like all the faunus and humans did back home. Not only that, but there were also talking animals, too! So yeah, this fairy tale world was weird.

But not as weird as what happened next.

"Hey! Over here!"

Team RWBY looked behind them and found a little girl waving at them. She had short, blonde hair, pale skin, and, as they got closer, blue eyes. Her dress was pink with a black sash wrapped around her belly.

"Um, hi?" Ruby awkwardly waved.

"Are you a Huntress?"

The question shocked the group. This was the first person they met in the Ever After, and she KNEW what a huntress is! Who was she?

"Um, ye-"

"Nilly!" A girl with long, brown hair ran up to the other girl and grabbed her wrist. Her dress was white with a pink sash wrapped around her belly, similar to the other girl. "We're not supposed to talk to strangers!"

"It's okay, Gats!" Nilly replied. "They don't look bad!"

"Don't you remember what Dad said?" Gats wagged her finger. "Looks can be decieving!"

"Um," Ruby stuttered, "we're not bad. Uh, y'know, if you wanted our opinion."

"She's right." Weiss added. "We're just trying to get to the tree."

"Oh! That's easy!" Nilly yanked her hand away. "Daddy can take you!"

"Daddy?" Yang asked.

"Mhm!" Nilly nodded. "Daddy is, like the best person to take you to the tree! He was up there before, y'know?"

"Nilly!" Gats chided. "They're bad guys!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

As the girls bickered, Team RWBY gave each other glances. This was very uncomfortable.

"Were we..." Ruby looked to her sister. "This bad?"

"Eh...." Yang shrugged. "Kinda?"

"Well, none of my siblings were like this." Weiss said with an unamused look.

"Pretty sure you're not as close with your siblings as Ruby and Yang were." Blake added. "It kind of makes me wonder what it's like."

"It's not great."

Suddenly, in the center of Team RWBY, stood a small girl with pink hair done in a ponytail, wearing a black dress with a white sash. She was so quiet, none of them heard her! As she walked to the other girls, they noticed she had a pink tail sway from under her dress.

"Nilla. Gats." She addressed the girls. "Mother's waiting for us." At this, the two girls stopped bickering. The leader looked at Team RWBY. "You come, too."

The little girl in the pink dress then walked forward, followed closely by the other two. Following the trio was Team RWBY. From a distance, a pair of eyes watched the seven girls curiously.

---------------------------------------------------

Neo sipped her tea, enjoying the quiet of the house. Her girls were out playing while her husband had left to run errands. They would all return before supper, as they always did. She looked down, admiring the one change to her otherwise routine life she'd made in the Ever After.

Every morning, she woke up, had breakfast, woke up her daughters, and then spent the rest of the day planning dinner. Tonight's dinner would be stewed vegetables.

"Ugh... Couldn't we have something with more meat?"

Neo cast a glare at the whining voice. The voice belonged to another Neo, though the voice was not quite her own. Instead, an annoying creature had taken residence in her body, wearing it like a coat, doing with it as they pleased.

"Oh, don't give me that look." The being replied with a roll of their neon-blue eyes. "Even Trivia is sick and tired of it!"

The woman in question, hanging clothes to dry outside, flinched. She shivered as Neo quirked a brow at her former self. She hid herself behind a wet sheet.

"Ow!" Mint, a disguise of herself used to infiltrate Beacon during the Vytal Festival with Cinder, flicked the being in Neo's ear. "Oh, I was not being mean to her!"

Neo hefted herself to her feet, hands to her back for support. Soon, it would be her turn to bring life into this world. She couldn't help but wonder what her child would look like. What mother didn't?

"Oh, and before you set the table," the being said, "we're going to have guests tonight. Four of them."

Neo eyed the being, unsure of what they meant. For all their schemes and plots, the creature wasn't a liar and often made use of their ability to see and hear things outside their home. If there were guests coming to visit, then there would be guests coming to visit. Neo would need more vegetables, and hands to pick said vegetables.

"Speak of the Grimm, as you say."

Neo looked to the door, and a tiny knock came from the other side. She opened the door, finding eight familiar faces.

"Mother." Greeted Berry with stoicism.

"Mommy!" Squealed Vanilla joyfully.

"Mom?" Called Gateau in concern.

Neo glared past her daughters to the four huntresses behind them. They swiftly reached for their weapons.

"Neopolitan?!" Litte Red exclaimed in her surprise.

"Of course she'd be here!" The Ice Queen growled.

"Is she pregnant?" The Kitty Cat asked.

"Guess she found someone dumb enough to knock her up." The Blonde Bimbo rudely remarked.

"Now that's just rude." All eyes focused on the timbre voice in the distance. A figure in rusted armor dismounted a large jackalope, named Juniper, and removed his helmet. Beneath was a ruggedly handsome bearded face with tired, blue eyes. He gave a chuckle. "Rude girls don't get dessert."

[bangrychannie]

Stray Kids Fic Recs

Hello! Recently I have become a stray kids fan and have fallen into a rabbit hole of fanfiction. Various pairings bc I don't care what the pair is just that it's stray kids related lmao. Added a line break bc there's a lot. Also feel free to rec me skz fics please bc I'm always reading

the book of us; electricity: (Seungjin | 10/10 | 84,966 | teen and up)

HJ @hyunfortunately 5h ;-; i was at the store and this song was playing over the speakers and i tried to remember some lyrics so i could search it up later but i can’t find it this is TRAGIC HJ @hyunfortunately 5h it was in korean and it’s kind of got rock-pop-balladish vibes and the first line of it was “neoneun neo neoneun na” if anyone knows it PLEASE tell me Seungmin doesn’t like to interact with other people on Twitter, but the questions seems almost aimed to him. He hits reply and types, “Try Hi Hello by Day6.” [Seungmin falls for Hyunjin from 2000 miles away. He expected that it would be inconvenient. He didn't expect quite how much Hyunjin would change his life.]

Genuinely one of the best fics I've ever read. It reads like a love letter to high school in the best way possible.

so this is what love is by dwaekinz: (Seungjin | 4/4 | 43,743 | teen and up)

seungmong_22 Hi, Hyunjin! My name is Seungmin. I'm Felix's friend, I hope he's mentioned me before…? Ha. We met online two years ago. I know it's unexpected But I kind of need your help hyuntothejin Me??? After 2 years of online friendship, Seungmin has finally found the time and saved up enough money to visit Felix for his birthday. In order for the surprise to work, he recruits the help of Felix's brother, Hyunjin, and together they spend the next three months forging a plan as well as a friendship of their own— or maybe something more.

So cute and fluffy no notes

Endgame by Raesan (Minsung | 9/9 | 150,840 | Explicit)

Jisung didn’t mean to procrastinate, but he didn’t think that all the clubs would be full in just a week. He sighed, seeing that only one club still had availability. Too bad he didn’t know shit about chess. Or what happens when Jisung, captain of the college soccer team, meets Minho, the number 2 ranked chess player in the country.

This fic is genuinely SO GOOD lol I think about it every day

reply hazy, try again by mrehk (BinChan | 1/1 | 14,951 | Explicit)

Changbin’s calculus tutor is Bang Chan. Smile wide, eyes shining, curly hair wild around his head. He’s got his backpack slung over one arm, those fuck ass chino shorts with a five inch inseam that make Changbin’s mouth water— and, goddamn, he’s wearing a fucking cropped t-shirt. Jisung and Seungmin are going to string Changbin up and have their way with public humiliation when they hear about this. (OR: solving for the derivative of l+o+v+e)

Funny and cute, I love idiots in love and that's what this is

Also mrehk is a fantastic writer so if you like this fic there's way more where that came from

i will protect you (gothic font) by mrehk (Minsung | 1/1 | 16,661 | Explicit)

Seungmin ignores him, smacking the folder onto the desk, flipping it open without looking, sliding it across the surface towards Minho. “It doesn’t matter. This was in the lease. You signed, right—” he taps the bottom corner, Minho’s initials perfectly legible. “Here.” “Excuse me?” Minho leans forward. “Paragraph nineteen subsection C,” Seungmin says, not even looking down as he recites the document word for word. “Lease is not voidable in the case of suspected paranormal activity.” He pounds his finger on the period. Minho laughs. A short, barked thing, completely disbelieving. “You’re kidding me.” “I’m really not,” Seungmin’s face pinches up into the sort of fake, squinted smile someone gives when they’re being an asshole. No remorse. (OR: Minho has ghosts, Jisung hunts ghosts)

Another funny one by mrehk my beloved

one day to fall in love (countless ones to love you) by whatifidbeenthatauthor (Minsung | 1/1 | 22,018 | Mature)

Minho stopped in his tracks. He turned to face Han Jisung. He looked unbothered, still going on about his way. “You didn’t say Hi,” Minho said, forcing the voice to come out of his throat. “You always say hi, hyung.” Jisung turned to look at him, a smile playing on his lips. He looked amused. Minho’s mind wasn’t keeping up. “Today’s different, I guess,” Jisung shrugged. “I went with a variation.” Minho would have found him insufferable, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to process the frustrating sensation that usually accompanied Jisung’s presence. Minho blurted out something that might have him sent to a madhouse. “No. I’ve lived today six times. You- you always say hi, hyung.” He felt crazy. More than usual. Jisung laughed. “What the fuck,” he said, and Minho knew he sounded insane, but could this kid please not be so arrogant? “Me, too. I thought I was the only one,” he continued, and he changed Minho’s life. *** Minho's life is boring, predictable, borderline uneventful. Until he gets stuck in a time loop. And, with him, his friends' friend, Han Jisung, a crazy dude who's only into skating. And whom Minho doesn't necessarily like.

I love time loop/time travel fics if anyone wants a list of specifically those lmk lmao

(never) have your fill of me by lolainslackss (Minsung | 3/3 | 36,028 | Explicit)

“How often can he possibly be having sex that it’s disturbing you this much?” Hyunjin asks, disbelieving. “He has sex, like, every day. And then again at night, sometimes.” Jisung makes a noise of distress. He drags his hands down his face before balling them into fists beneath his chin. “It’s just . . . so distracting, Hyunjin.” “Distracting,” Hyunjin repeats, giving Jisung a meaningful smirk. “Oh, I bet it is.” “Aw,” Jisung whines. “Why’d you have to say it like that?” “Like what?” “Like you think I wish I were the one he were fucking, instead.” “Because you do, don’t you, or are we pretending we both don’t know that?” Hyunjin’s gaze flits over to Minho before it swiftly cuts back to Jisung, all-knowing. “You’d let him do anything to you. Am I wrong?” - In which PhD student Han Jisung unleashes a succubus from a magical book, winds up living with him, and then forms a sex pact with him.

I also have a lot of demon fic recs so lmk

36 Questions That May Lead to Love by bluecalicocat (Minsung | 1/1 | 17,282 | Teen and Up)

generic username @realhanjisung yo my friend wants to be a therapist, can someone pls fake date me so he can practice counseling couples? i have 3 cats @leeknow deal

This fic is so funny

Searching for My Heart in Yours by lk321 (minsung | 5/5 | 36,995 | General)

When Jisung moves to Miroh, a town in the middle of nowhere, all he’s looking for is some peace and quiet. Instead, what he finds is a prickly witch for a neighbor by the name of Minho, who accidentally spills a potion on Jisung and forms a psychic bond between them, opening Jisung to whole new world of magic. As Minho tries to find a cure for their predicament, Jisung finds himself pulled into Minho's lively and magical life. It's not the peace and quiet Jisung was looking for, but as Jisung gets to know the witch through the emotions they're forced to share, Jisung realizes that the answers he’s searching for in life might just lie here in Miroh, in places he least expects.

Feels like a warm hug

the long game by floraii (HyunSung | 1/1 | 16,045 | Teen and Up)

“Anyway,” he continues, voice still sultry, “I’ve been seeing you in class, and I was just wondering—” he moves his hand to curl around a strand of his hair. “Could I get your number?” Han Jisung’s big brown eyes blink again. His gaze darts to his lips, then to his notebook, then up to his eyes. “To study?” “Yeah,” Hyunjin blurts without thinking. What the fuck? Study? What is happening? Why is he agreeing?

Hyunjin has a type. It’s not usually shy boys in his Intro to Statistics class with big round eyes and glasses, but Han Jisung is different.

This fic was so funny I was actually laughing out loud

I have plenty more where that came from! So there will be more recs soon

[leinielly]

🇺🇸: The following things I would do in the SAMURAI RABBIT series if I were the one writing it.

● WHEN THE STORY TAKES PLACE - when I watched it for the first time I was quite confused about when the series was set. From what was said in the series, it takes place A THOUSAND YEARS after the time when Miyamoto Usagi was alive, and from what I know he was based on a real samurai called Miyamoto Musashi who lived from 1584 to 1645 at the age of 61. So this means that the series would take place more or less in 2645. (Wow, it makes sense that technology is so great, Japan must have already dominated the world at that point!) So, at the height of my boredom, I thought about keeping it more or less at that time and finding a reason why there are shuguns, samurai and ninjas walking around, what could have happened in terms of making Japan return to its old traditions and such?

●KEEP THE ORIGINAL STYLE - You can judge me, but I liked the style of mixing old Japan with something more modern, it was visually readable to me. (Cries Boruto!) I'm even studying the style of clothes and designs of the characters in the series just for that reason, I really loved the style they chose. But since I should change something, I would say that some clothes would be like Kimonos imitating clothes from our current daily lives, or even the opposite of clothes we see today imitating classic Japanese clothes, depending on this it would become a new style with a really cool name.

●DESCENDANCE - I think it would be cooler in the series for Yuichi not to know that he is a descendant of Myamoto Usagi for now, but rather thinking that he is perhaps Kenichi's and even having a different coat of arms on his clothes reflecting the lack of knowledge of his kinship. The poor guy would only know the truth when he came into contact with the Ki stone and he wouldn't know if he should be happy to be a descendant of his hero or confused because for many generations this hadn't been revealed. So he would have to go after the truth somehow, although the only witnesses (the Yokais) are not so reliable because they see Myamoto differently. (This could be a loophole for an item that Myamoto had, which was a lock of Mariko's hair that he kept as a souvenir) so for now this truth couldn't be public so as not to cause chaos or something.

●THE YOKAIS- This one is going to be difficult, I actually thought it was cool in a way that the Yokais were just misunderstood beings that just wanted to live in peace, but there could also be some that just want chaos and bother the residents of Neo Edo (just like in some legends) so we would have some antagonists for now and we could choose one to be the one that gives the most work to our aspiring Hero.

●YUICHI USAGI- yeah, although I like his duality of being cocky and a little insecure inside, I think he could have more layers of personality. (For now I see him as a Sonic Silver in terms of personality) so I thought he would take some traits from Kenichi and even Yukichi, being a protagonist who is partially short-tempered when it comes to competitions and tournaments, wanting to have his name on something, being partially deluded about what life is like in a big city or with people of a certain level of power or fame and even looking a lot for a worthy rival to surpass him and show his potential. He would certainly be a formidable warrior and competitor if he knows how to balance his temperament and ambitions.

🇧🇷: As seguintes coisas que eu faria na série de SAMURAI RABBIT caso fosse eu que escrevesse.

● QUANDO SE PASSA A HISTÓRIA- quando assisti pela primeira vez eu fiquei bastante confusa sobre em que época era série se passava. Pelo que foi dito na série, se passa MIL ANOS após a época em que Miyamoto Usagi era vivo, e pelo que sei ele foi baseado em uma samurai real chamar o Miyamoto Musashi que viveu de 1584 a 1645 com 61 anos. Logo isso quer dizer que a série se passaria mais ou menos em 2645. (Caramba faz sentido a tecnologia ser tanta, o Japão já deve ter dominado o mundo nesse ponto!) Então eu no auge do meu tédio pensei em manter mais ou menos nessa época e achar um motivo do porquê tá tendo shuguns, samurais e ninjas andando por aí, oque poderia ter acontecido no nível de fazer o Japão voltar as antigas tradições e tals?

●MANTER O ESTILO ORIGINAL- Podem me julgar, mas eu gostei do estilo de misturar o Japão antigo com algo mais moderno, ficou algo visualmente lendo pra mim. (Chora Boruto!) Eu até estou estudando um pouco o estilo de roupas e dos designs dos personagens da série só por isso, eu amei demais o estilo que escolheram. Mas como eu devo mudar algo eu então diria que algumas roupas seriam tipo Kimonos imitando roupas do nosso cotidiano atual, ou até o contrário de roupas que vemos hoje imitando as roupas clássicas do Japão, dependendo isso viraria um novo estilo com um nome bem bacana.

●A DESCENDÊNCIA- acho que seria mas legal na série o Yuichi não saber que é descendente do Myamoto Usagi por enquanto, e sim pensando ser talvez do Kenichi e até tendo um brasão diferente na roupa refletindo a desconhecimento de seu parentesco. O coitado só iria saber a verdade quando entrasse em contato com a pedra de Ki e ele não saberia se deveria está feliz por ser decendente do seu herói ou confuso por durante muitas gerações isso não ter sido revelado. Então ele teria que ir atrás da verdade de alguma forma, embora as únicas testemunhas (os Yokais) não serem tão confiáveis por verem o Myamoto de forma diferente. (Isso poderia ser uma brecha para um item que o Myamoto tinha que era uma mercha de cabelo da Mariko que ele guardava como lembrança) então por enquanto essa verdade não poderia ser pública para não causar caos ou algo assim.

●OS YOKAIS- Esse vai ser difícil, eu até que achei legal de certa forma os Yokais serem apenas seres incompreendidos que só queriam viver em paz, mas também poderia ter alguns que só querem o caos e incomodar os moradores de Neo Edo (assim como em algumas lendas) então teríamos por enquanto alguns antagonistas e poderiamos eleger um para ser o que mais vai dá trabalho para nosso aspirante a Herói.

●YUICHI USAGI- pois é, embora eu goste da dualidade dele de ser convencido e por dentro um pouco inseguro, eu acho que ele poderia ter mais camadas de personalidade. (Por agora eu o vejo como um Silver de sonic no quesito de personalidade) então pensei nele puxar alguns traços do Kenichi e até do Yukichi, sendo um protagonista parcialmente pavio curto quando o assunto é competições e torneios, almejar ter seu nome em algo, ser parcialmente iludido sobre como é a vida em uma cidade grande ou com pessoas de certo nível de poder ou fama e até procurar muito por um rival a altura para supera-lo e mostrar seu potencial. Certamente ele seria um guerreiro e competidor formidável se ele souber equilibrar seu temperamento e ambições.

[grave-buster]

WAIT THEY GAVE VOLKOV A DAUGHTER????? fuck now i need to know more. i don't care abt neo-borg but i'm like the only volkov enjoyer so now i'm super curious. also i'm planning a beyblade women tournament and i'm gonna have 2 put her in the preliminaries

YESS THEY DID. Here's a link to Aoki's colored illustration of her: http:// sakura2factory.web.fc2.com/image/regina20201209.jpg (remove the space after http://)

Her name is Regina Hase, and she is the final antagonist of Beyblade RISING. The first female last boss in Beyblade plastic gen.

I can't recall rn if she directly states, "I'm Volkov's daughter" but I'm very sure she's his daughter (people in the Japanese fandom also seem to think this).

Edit: Okay yeah it's confirmed, she even calls him Father. My memory is very hazy XD

She runs a beyblade gambling ring, DBB. Initially, she disguises herself as Volkov, until Yuriy realizes she's not really him. She was also the one who got Yuriy kicked from the World Championships by circulating videos of Yuriy being all "muahahah I am so evil" while destroying beyblades. She also tried to ruin Takao's reputation by tricking him into battling at DBB and broadcasting it, falsely claiming that Takao is also a DBB blader. She defeats Takao, and gives Yuriy a hard time until Takao joins in on the match and helps Yuriy defeat her.

She has purple hair like Volkov (her long hair is a wig btw, her real hair is very short), and calls herself 'Volkov's heir' at one point, I think. Her nationality is stated as "German-Russian" in a page in the manga, and since her mother Emilia is shown to be German, I think it's safe to say she gets the 'Russian' part from Volkov. She meets Volkov after being defeated by Yuriy and Takao. She talks to him, and at one point Volkov mentions how Regina's anger upon being defeated is just like her Mother's.

Instead of leaving with Volkov, she decides to go her own way.

Later, it is shown she opens the Deustche Beyblade Liga, DBL with her mother. Also, beyblade RISING is very parenthood-centric. A lot of the characters have their parents shown, and some of the plot involves their parents as well. I think it's safe to say Volkov is her father.

Her bit beast is the rabbit Wolpertinger from German Folklore. It is said to live in Bavarian forests. Her launcher is a crossbow launcher like Brooklyn's, although it is handheld rather than worn on the arm. Her last name 'Hase' also means Hare/Rabbit in German, similar to how 'Volkov' means Wolf in Russian.

I think I already described what her beyblade is like, right?

I love how it looks! It took me two years to realize there are two rabbit heads on the lower part. The only thing I'm not a fan of is the way the spikes work. It's a bit too over the top, even for beyblade XD A toned down version of it would be amazing tho!

I also find it interesting that Regina is the one who wears Volkov's iconic mask in RISING, while Volkov himself wears an eyepatch here, presumably from losing an eye? It feels as though he 'passed the torch' to his daughter.

Thanks for the ask! I'm happy to see anyone show interest in Regina. Also, your beyblade women championship sounds amazing!! I'd love to know more about it.

Edit 2: I removed the image and added a link to it on Aoki's site instead, for the longest time I thought you couldn't share links to his illustrations either? But now I saw a post explaining you can.

[multifandomslxt]

REQUESTED: best hair styles the Neos have had

Taeil

I won’t allow y’all to lie to me and tell me that Chain era Taeil was mid. It was not. He saved millions from starvation by serving a full course meal with this hair.🫶🏿😭😭 honestly idk how some people don’t find him attractive. If he told me to get on my knees and suck I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Honorable mention:

Johnny

Honestly, I couldn't choose. But Black Hair Johnny will always have a foot on my throat. Especially when it's wet? oh absolutely.

Taeyong

Call me whatever you want but Taeyong's hair in sticker era changed the trajectory of my life. It was the undercut and flames combo.

Yuta

The long black hair. In a man bun, ponytail, half up half down, or let loose. It doesn't matter. This hairstyle is simply one for the books

Honorable mention: red hair Yuta.

Kun

Red hair Daddy Kun. HE ATE DOWWNNNNN. this was the same hair that caused the iconic "red sweat" incident. All in all, it made him look so damn powerful.

Doyoung

All my Doie bitches to the FRONT!!! Listen I have a lot of favorite hairstyles when it comes to this man, but nothing can beat the hairstyle he had in the resonance era I fear. Honestly, him in dark hair is enough to end me.

Ten

Two words. Phantom. Mullet. Bitch it’s mf Chittaphon Leechaiyahpornkul. He looks good in everything 😭😭. I’m honestly jealous of his ‘slay scale’ in general cuz that butch is always on 10🥹.

Jaehyun

I have two hairstyles. Favorite era and His natural fluffy hair. He is so fucking gorgeous.

WinWin

THIS.

Jungwoo

his sticker hair will always be iconic to me. It was different and it fit him perfectly.

Mark

Listen. When Mark started acting up it was because of this hair. Tallm bout he thought girls liked guys with short hair. No bitch. I'm down bad for him yo. also adding his recent hair too because he caused chaos in NCITY overnight.

Xiaojun

This man is the prettiest bitch I've ever seen in my entire life. He sings fucking amazingly and looks like an angel.

Hendery

Pretty in pink.

Renjun

the iconic two-toned hair. idgaf if you don't like this

I do. I fucking love it. He is the reason I breathe.

Jeno

Can you tell I have a thing for black hair and undercuts? lmaooo

Haechan

Red is his color. I think colors like this match his skin tone perfectly.

Jaemin

Do I really have to defend this? no, no I don't.

YangYang

Our bad bich Yang Yang was giving us Etheral tingz with this lewwkkkk

Chenle

The pink streaks were iconic. GLITCH MODE 4 EVAAA

Jisung

The silver hair made a cultural impact.

[neocitylights]

[TEASER]

SUMMARY: Despite the city’s fast-paced scene of street racing—in which you happen to be the name to be beaten at every race—getting to know Jeno is a steady, quiet affair. Breaking the mechanic’s walls between races and late-night rides, the two of you slowly grow closer, unknowingly surrounded by secrets neither of you are ready to reveal. Still, in a world that’s driven by speed and adrenaline like yours, surprises are inevitable—even those that end up breaking your heart before mending it. GENRE: Romance, fluff, action, street racing au TEASER WORD COUNT: 1k WARNINGS: Cursing, suggestive themes, implied sexual content

COMING SOON—January 25th!

UPDATE: READ NOW!

The atmosphere feels heavy with energy, the smell of motor oil and burned rubber lingering in the air as the hum of engines blend with the pounding bass of whatever music’s currently playing in the warehouse.

A row of neon-lit and vivid colored cars line up all the way outside, the buzzing audience placing their bets as they mingle with the racers and crew alike. 

Despite its overwhelming chaos, the environment wraps you like a second skin with ease—laced with nothing but familiarity and comfort, race nights always feel like your personal sanctuary. Under the sounds of revving engines, roaring crowds and blaring music, you’d found your own twisted kind of peace, a vicious sense of belonging that only racing could give you through its unpredictability and adrenaline. 

It also doesn’t hurt that you’re good at it. 

After all, there’s a reason why your name currently holds the highest number of bets and has been for the last five races, no competitor coming close to dethroning your streak of wins. 

While a handful of racers walk past your car, their wandering eyes occasionally lingering over the red Mazda RX-7 gleaming under the warehouse’s bright lights, anticipation slowly builds in your chest as you meticulously check the final details before the official start, brain already racing ahead through the layout until a familiar voice calls for your name.

Startled, you look up just as Gigi approaches with rapid steps. The pink-haired girl quickly intertwines your arms, pulling you closer with a grin that characteristically only means one thing, especially when knowing her antics. 

“Oh, here we go,” you tease, raising an amused eyebrow at your fellow racer turned best-friend. “I wonder what piece of gossip I’m gonna have to roll my eyes at this time.”

“I mean, if you don’t want to know about the new guy from Neo Tech that just signed up to take you…” Gigi starts, offering a nonchalant shrug with a mock dramatic touch lacing her voice. “We can totally talk about something else, if you want?”

As the words hang in the air for a second, your amusement shifts to confusion as you scan Gigi’s face for any traces of exaggeration. “What?”

“You heard me, Cherry,” she continues, excitedly cozying up to your side as her grin returns with your peaked curiosity. “Jaemin says he’s been around for two weeks—”

“There’s a new guy at Neo Tech?” you cut in, furrowing your eyebrows before offering the racer an exasperated huff. “Also, why are you making it sound like I’m having sex with him? He just signed up to take me?”

Gigi bursts into a laugh, giving you a look as mischief takes over her eyes. “I’m not. You’re the one thinking of it!”

“I’m not the one who said it,” you argue, playfully rolling your eyes at her in an attempt to play off the curiosity suddenly gnawing at your thoughts. “Who even told you this?”

“Didn’t I just say Jaemin?” she taunts, holding back another laugh at your half-hearted glare. “Apparently, Taeyong’s short on crew since Mark and Hyuck are still in Seoul, so he’s been pulling in new blood.”

Although you don’t necessarily worry about your victory streak nor being challenged for it, the new information does sound… interesting. Since Neo Tech’s more than just a regular garage, the crew notoriously known for building damn near perfect cars for a few lucky racers in the city—a short list that includes you—it’s not unusual to find one of Taeyong’s mechanics listed up for a race every now and then. 

Given their knowledge, it’s always fun racing with them, which you’ve already done several times against Mark, Jaehyun and Yuta specifically.

As you’re about to fish more details from Gigi, the low growl of a particular engine pulls your attention to the far end of the warehouse. A green Nissan Skyline GT-R turns a few heads as it crosses the lot, the car’s polished, pristine exterior looking nothing but sleek under the lights. It comes to a smooth stop just a few spots away from you, the driver’s door soon swinging open under the crowd’s attentiveness.

It’s almost impossible not looking at the guy, his tall figure turning as many heads as the car did. With a glance around the bustling place, holding a posture that looks entirely too relaxed for a first-timer, his dark eyes suddenly land on you, lingering for a second too long to be just a coincidence. 

Instinctively straightening under his gaze, your curiosity doubles as he walks over to the corner where the Neo Tech’s guys are usually posted on, almost as if he’s done this a hundred times before.

“That’s him!” Gigi murmurs, oblivious to the blasting background music while gently elbowing at your side. “That’s the new guy from Neo Tech!”

You hum softly, finally breaking your gaze from him to shoot your best-friend an inquisitive look. “Do you know his name?”

“What for?” she asks, raising a suspicious eyebrow as a knowing smirk tugs at her mouth. “Why are you suddenly so interested? Don’t tell me that you actually want him to take you—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Gigi!” you interrupt, scoffing at her words as warmth spreads through your cheeks. “I just wanted to know who I’m racing against, that’s all!”

The pink-haired racer snorts, shaking her head as she gives you a side-eye. “I don’t know his name, sorry. Maybe Jaemin told me, but you know I can’t ever remember shit, so…”

Johnny’s voice suddenly echoes over the speakers, calling the racers to the starting line with one of his quick-witted remarks. Exchanging one last look with Gigi before she leaves to her bright pink Honda S2000, the warehouse’s mood has already significantly changed, a competitive streak flaring the audience into life.

Pulling your Mazda into position on the makeshift track marked outside the warehouse, your fingers tighten around the steering wheel as you exhale, ignoring the crowd outside calling out your nickname. 

Still, you can’t help a brief glance as a certain green Skyline slides right beside you, catching Neo Tech guy’s gaze through the window. As a silent acknowledgement of the challenge set between both of you, he gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod as the corners of his mouth hint a tight-lipped smile.

MASTERLIST

[fortune-telling-fxg]

I'm Yasuhiro Hagakure—Hiro for short! Take it easy, yeah? I know I will!

🧿: Very fun Yasuhiro blog!! For asks and roleplay!

💎: While Hiro may be 19 (CHANGED FOR THE SAKE OF HAGAKUREON), the mod is not! Keep it SFW! Sexual jokes are allowed!

🧿: Mod can be found at @b4bygangst3r (Yep, I also own the Sayaka blog!)

💎: Per usual ask/rp blog.. Reblogging, tagging, and the usual is allowed!

🧿: This blog includes MANY headcanons! (Avoid me at all costs if you prefer this as close to canon as possible!)

💎: Hiro uses he/they pronouns, he also likes neos!

🧿: My boy is pansexual!! Everyone is hot!

💜: Beloved mod in your presence! Refer to me as TJ, or just mod!

💜: Keep in mind, it will be hard to stay on top of my shit... Only due to my multiple blogs, but I'll try!

💜: HEADCANONS AND SHIT UNDER THE CUT

OUR GROUP

🍀: Makoto (@the-ultimate-hope-naegi)

💴: Byakuya (@ask-the-byakuya-togami)

🍩: Aoi (@aoi-asahina-rp)

🎤: Sayaka (@p0ps3ns4t10n)

⚾️: Leon (@ask-leon-kuwataa)

📟: Chihiro (@ask-chihiro-fujisaki14-roleplay)

📝: Hifumi (@the-alpha-and-the-omega-fanfics)

🃏: Celestia (@queenofliars-inanotherlife)

🔪: Mukuro (@wolfbxtten)

🎀: Junko (@ask-enoshima)

📖: Kiyotaka (@moral-compass-kiyotaka)

🖊: Toko (@fukawas-words)

💎: Mondo (@cr4zyd1am0nds-lead3r)

🔍: Kyoko (@detectiveglass-kirigiri)

FAMILIAL HEADCANONS

Half Filipino, half Japanese.

Never met his dad's side of the family.

He's the youngest of his cousins.

His cousins and aunts/uncles called him peanut when he was younger, no idea why, they just did.

Homophobic ahh family, minus his mom, his mama so silly :>

Everyone goes to him to vent, but get mad when he tries to (so me frfr)

Stole an edible from his dad at 13, which jumpstarted his whole stoner thing.

FRIENDSHIP HEADCANONS

Therapist friend.

Sometimes he likes to do palm readings and tarot with friends.

He gives pretty good dating advice, and it always works with the bros, but never him.

Would put his friends in drag, would occasionally put himself in drag with them.

He tries to spoil them with things that AREN'T money, but it's hard to, of course.

ROMANCE HEADCANONS

Really used to toxic relationships (eg: they would force him to eat stuff with his allergies cuz hes “ungrateful” he usually has an epipen on deck)

Cannot sleep without partner

Separation anxiety

LITERALLY THE DEFINITION OF CLINGY, PRIVATE AND PUBLIC.

He’d play with partner’s hair and trace little lines on their palm (trust me, it’s great)

Does not sleep until he’s with partner or on an overnight call with them. What if he’s single? He barely sleeps.

OTHER HEADCANONS

Allergic to nuts, caffeine (hehe), and bee stings.

A *little* bit schizophrenic, but he's medicated.

Can pass as a woman, just shave that stubble and give him a corset.

He loves rhinestones, for some odd reason, shiny stuff just catches his attention and doesn't give it back.

Always fucking stumbling, his ass cannot walk straight.

Plushie and figurine collector, don't know why, guess it's become a habit.

Barely got to eat when he had his unpaid debts, really only ate lunch.

Got so used to the lack of meals, it stuck with him in Hope's Peak, and guess who forced him to eat?

Not a huge fan of sweets, especially frosting, leaves a bad aftertaste, in his opinion.

Can say the most outrageous shit, usually sexual jokes, with a straight ass face. Sometimes it's hard to tell if he's joking or not.

[pyrrhicpoison]

tw // self harm mention + scars

WOOHOOO THEYRE FINALLY DONE!! team rwby are here and real after nearly 23 hours spent on them in total 😵‍💫

^ versions without the text&arrows

vvv hc transcript + hcs not mentioned vvv:

Ruby

She/they/crescent

5’4

Genderfluid

Butch Lesbian

AuDHD + PTSD

goggles: ‘Goggles to protect remaining eye (+they make crescent look cool as hell)

right eye: ‘Eye scratched out by Cinder’s grimm arm’

green hairband: ‘For Penny :(‘

nose: ‘Shares nose shape, skin tone & freckles with their Dad & Yang’

upper chest: ‘scars on chest from CC’s attempted possession’

chest 1: ‘Yang bought their binder & had it customised for her (+ Blake)’

chest 2: ‘Binds their chest most of the time except from when she’s in Vacuo. Then they borrow trans tape from Blake and bind with that instead’

sash: ‘CR hooks onto the back of sash and sits diagonally across crescent’s back’

shirt and shorts: ‘Stole one of Yang’s goofy shirts & cut his cargos into shorts’

Weiss

She/her

4’11 (5’2 w/ heels)

Transfem lesbian

Asexual

OCD + PTSD

hair: ‘Hair cut shorter & she wears it down more often’

green hair tie: ‘For Penny :,)’

nose: ‘Shares nose shape with her brother + got her beauty mark from her mother who has one in the same place (TO ME!!)’

face: ‘On E’

red bandana: ‘gift from Ruby :)’

right arm: ‘Heavily scarred arms from SH & fighting grimm’

left eye: ‘Blind in this eye’

left shoulder: ‘Wears shawl to protect shoulders from the sun (burns easily)’

right side: ‘Chest scar carries over to her back & she has no feeling in the skin there — the nerves were burned away and caused permanent damage’ then off that ‘Doesn’t cope well in hot climates (Vacuo) too well because of this’

myrtenaster: ‘Has a strict routine she keeps with maintaining Myrtenaster and if she doesn’t do it, it’ll send her into a spiral’

Blake

She/they

5’7

Non-binary bisexual

Autistic + PTSD

ears: ‘Gold jewellery like her mum’s’

right eye: ‘Eyes shine in the dark due to faunus night vision’

left eye: ‘More prominent faunus facial features (slit pupils, fangs, nose, etc.)

hood: ‘Hood has cat ear shaped pockets that unzip so she can choose whether to have her ears out or covered’

chest: ‘wearing trans tape under crop top’

left bicep: ‘Has big, strong arm & shoulder muscles from throwing Yang around with Gambol, but a softer tummy cause she’s healing from all the bad habits they picked up in the WF’

orange scarf: ‘Wears orange scarf to mirror where Yang’s arm ends and where metal begins’

tummy: ‘happy trail and STRETCH MARKS!!!”

shoulder+elbow: ‘More furry like their Dad’

forearm: ‘Scars from WF training, SH & grimm’

waist straps: ‘Yang uses these to pull her in for a kiss all the time :)’

chaps: ‘chaps + cowboy boots = sapphic devastation’

tummy scar: ‘The scar on her hip is the only one that still looks fairly gruesome, and the only one that burns and stings even long after the initial injury is healed. She thinks it’s because technically she was stabbed there twice, even if the second time she managed to use her semblance to get away.’

Yang

She/he

6’0

Butch lesbian

AuDHD + PTSD

nose: ‘Got his nose scar while fighting a jabber walker’

eye: ‘Eyes have specs of crimson in them even when his semblance isn’t active’

ear: ‘Shares skin tone, nose and hair with his dad’

facial hair: ‘On T’

left bicep: wears scarf on left bicep to mirror Blake’

arm,legs,tummy,chest: ‘HAIRY!!! :D’

leg: ‘Heavily scarred from SH, grimm and bar fights’

shorts: ‘Can sew and likes to decorate his trousers/shorts with patches & pins. He also likes to sew things for his team (he’s the reason they all have the team colours somewhere on their outfits)’

chest 1: ‘Scar across chest from Neo’s blade’

chest 2: ‘Got top surgery at some point in Vacuo (he likes to joke around and say that her semblance blew his tits off).

HCS NOT PUT HERE (i forgor):

Ruby:

•takes tips and advice from Yang on how to dress but mainly just throws clothes on and hopes for the best. she hasn’t quite got the hang of things looking… cohesive… yet.

•strong arms from swinging CR around.

Weiss:

•Was quite slender, but began gaining a bit of weight once she got back to Remnant. Starting to heal :,).

Blake:

•has chronic pain that stems from her tummy scar and radiates up her spine. Overworking, stress & the cold cause most flare-ups.

Yang:

•has a collection of goofy shirts (That ruby always steals from).

•has weapons hidden in her prosthetic arm in case he’s ever out of dust or in a bind.

•still experiences phantom pain in his stump and pain from some of the scars he’s acquired over the course of the war.

[spahhzy]

A sunny dragon comes to town~

Yang: Jaune, my man!

Yang grabs Jaune into a headlock, much to Jaune's dismay.

Jaune: Hello, Yang how was your trip?

Yang: Not bad. Mom teleported me roughly past Mt. Glenn, the drive to Vale was nice on Bumblebee.

Yang let go of Jaune before looking around.

Yang: Annnd, where is the miniscule mute?

A muffin hit Yang on the head.

Yang: Ah, there you are, shrimps!

Yang said, walking over to the sitting Neo, who was trying to act like she was doing something important, but Yang just picked her up and gave her a big hug before bonking Neo on the head.

Neo: Ow! What the fuck you big boobed bitch!

Yang: That's for tossing a muffin at me.

Neo: Next time, it will be a pie with knives in it!

Yang: Clown tactics, now we just need you to play the part.

Neo just gave her the finger before giving a smirk and hugging Yang.

Yang: Funny, I also thought Jaune would have knocked you up by now.

This caused Jaune to blush and sputter, while Neo blushed as well before shattering away in embarrassment.

Roman: Ah, is that the wonderful sound of a soul being embarrassed I hear?

Yang: Rome!

Yang ran up to the man and embraced him in a hug.

Roman: Jeeez what kind of training has your mother been putting you through?

Yang: Ah, you know tribal stuff. She also said for me to tell you that she expects a visit from you, to chat and catch up as she puts it.

Roman: Once this little heist of ours is complete, that will be the first thing I do.

Yang: Right, so infiltrating Beacon, huh?

Roman: It's ingenious! Plus, I knew your mom would love it if we could stick it to Ozpin again.

Yang: You said you got everyone fake transcripts right?

Roman: Everyone excluding you, I figured a bit of 'legitimacy' would do us well, sides you were going to attend Beacon anyways right?

Yang: Yeah, that was the plan, even though mom is totally against it.

Roman: I don't blame her, but if things go perfect, we'll steal whatever it is he's hiding, gloat before selling it too, whoever is willing to meet our price!

Yang: It sounds good in practice, Rome...

Roman: Have faith! With Neo, Jaune, and You, this plan will be foolproof!

Jaune had already excused himself to let the two catch up as he went to find Neo. He caught her back in her room as she was looking at an old photo.

It was Him, her, Roman, and Yang with another Woman, she looked like a carbon copy of Yang but had black hair and red eyes.

It read: 'Thick as thieves'.

Jaune: Penny for you thoughts?

Neo: Just a penny?

Jaune walked up behind her before giving her a hug, Neo leaned in and enjoyed the warmth.

Jaune: C'mon spill it...

Neo: Just...nervous.

Jaune: You? The Neopolitan, nervous...I thought such a word didn't exist in your vocabulary.

Neo: kiss ass.

Jaune: Heh.

Jaune sighed as he rested his head onto of her head.

Jaune: I'm nervous too, a lot that can go wrong... but I will do my best to ensure that you and Roman will be okay.

Neo: Hey, don't sell yourself short. Without you, our trio ain't nothing, we need you...I need you dummy.

Jaune: Awww, Neo all sentimental, I need a camera.

Neo smirked before suddenly Jaune was sprawled out on the bed with Neo strattling him, a hazy look in her eyes.

Jaune:Heh, I'm in danger.

[skyler1290]

Bad news: I'm sick. Good news: that gave me free time to work on Raspberry and Mercurial Knight's appearances.

Raspberry Cookie -

Raspberry Cookie’s Soul Jam is a half crimson, half-dark blue flower-looking symbol, a reference to how flowers can represent a lot of things and how Raspberry, back in the Hollyberry Kingdom, used to manage quite a few jobs and responsibilities. Her Soul Jam is the Light of Loyalty.

She has crimson hair with light pink swirls in it. Her hair used to be long, but paralleling what one of her fellow Neo-Ancients did when he ran away from his kingdom, she cut hers shorter too. It’s about shoulder length now. Due to this, instead of tying her hair, she leaves it untouched since it’s a bit too short to style in that way.

Raspberry wears a short, dark-red jacket with a hood. More often than not, her hood is up. She still wears her tailcoat but no longer sports her cravat or her epaulettes. 

Raspberry Cookie also doesn’t wear her gloves anymore; as mentioned in another post, she gave them to Kouign-Amann Cookie (her gloves are light pink in this AU, unlike how they’re white in the canon storyline. It's a bit of a useless change, but it doesn’t do anything negative).

A pastel blue ribbon can be seen tied around the former princess’ waist (and yes, she is Royal Berry’s younger sister in this AU and has Jungleberry as a sister-in-law. The age gap is huge, however). She wears white pants and short, brown, diamond-shaped boots.

As for jewelry, she doesn’t have any besides her two necklaces. 

Her Soul Jam is embedded into one of her necklaces as a charm.

Mercurial Knight Cookie -

Mercurial Knight Cookie’s Soul Jam is a half aquamarine and half cream camellia sinensis leaf. The representation of that shape will be revealed later on in the fic. His Soul Jam is the Light of Detachment.

The top part of his hair is white, and the lower part is black. Unlike his fellow Neo-Ancients (other than Stormbringer, maybe), he didn’t alter his hair or tie it up into any hairstyle that’s different from how his hair is styled or seen on your average day. 

Mercurial Knight wears a gray fur cloak (without the hood), abandoning his shoulder blades. He still wears the armor that he wore at the Faerie Kingdom, but he’s been thinking of changing it for a while now. Mercurial is unsure of such a choice, however. It would be more of an emotional decision if he kept it, but he’s the holder of the Light of Detachment, so that’d be slightly hypocritical of him, wouldn’t it?

Unlike before, his wings are folded underneath his fur cloak most of the time. There’s two hidden openings in the cloak that can be zipped open and closed for his wings whenever he doesn’t want them folded, however.

He also wears a gray waist cape, which reaches to about his ankles. His gray boots reach up to his knees, but he may also change the boots in time since they’re part of his Faerie Kingdom attire.

This is also the time when I’ll be mentioning that all of the Neo-Ancients wear a necklace with a light blue crystal charm. Consider it their ‘friendship’ necklace (it may hold more of a purpose).

His Soul Jam is the clasp of his fur cloak.

-

I'm doing my best to change Raspberry's backstory in a way that fits into the story. And also, I'd like you guys to note that Stormbringer was brought up differently in this AU and has a different status from the canon storyline, so quite a few aspects of her personality and goals will and may differ.

(Beast Ancients AU by: @cuppajj )