#and what he said was 'you know i don't have any problem with that.

[stevebabey]

the four steps between (best) friends and lovers

summary: Long-time best friends, it's not a surprise that it's you Steve comes to when he needs a fake girlfriend. One little white lie, one perilous family dinner, one evening of pretending to be a couple.

How hard could it be?

[ 12k + best friends to lovers + fake dating + fem!reader]

STEP ONE: THE PROPOSAL

"Be my girlfriend."

The glass held between your fingers slips and makes a loud bang as it hits the sink. The water from the tap pours over it, unaware of the incredibly unusual change in the universe that just occurred.

You tilt your head up, ignoring the lost glass, and raise your eyebrows high. "Come again?"

Steve huffs a little, as though you're the one being rather dramatic, and leans further forward across the island. His hands are planted firmly, his hazel eyes wide as he all but pouts at you. You're still grappling with where the hell that came from.

"Be my girlfriend. Please." He says. "For just one dinner, I promise. I swear I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't actually desperate."

You blink, clearly having missed a beat somewhere.

Frowning, you finally shut off the tap and rescue your abandoned glass from the bottom of the sink. You pick up and give it a quick once over for any chips. Scot-free, luckily.

"Okay, back up." You say, giving a small shake to clear your head. You make a face. "First of all, Harrington, ouch."

Steve sags a bit. "C'mon, you know that's not what I mean."

Not even a hint of a smile at your dig — which tells you he's probably pretty serious then.

"Secondly, what dinner is this? What could be so important that you have to show up with a faux-girlfriend on your arm?"

Steve properly slumps this time, a loud groan accompanying the languished movement. His forehead presses against the counter-top and you bite your tongue to avoid making an unhelpful, teasing comment about it. Instead, you refill the glass in your hand and wait patiently.

"I…" Steve begins, his voice muffled against the counter-top.

"MybrotherisintownwithhisfiancéeandI—"

"Steveeee," You interrupt as you give in to the urge, leaning over and poking him in the head. "If you want my help, please stop mumbling into the counter and tell me the problem."

He doesn't move for a moment, still face down, but you can see the rise and fall of his back as he sighs deeply. He shifts, twisting so his face is no longer hidden. It's noticeably pinker than it was a minute ago.

"My brother is in town next week." He explains. "With his fiancée. And my parents really love to kick up a fuss whenever he gets brought up, whether it's, yanno, like, about jobs and shit or whatever."

Steve waves a careless hand out. He rises from his slumped position, tucking his chin into the palm of his hand.

"And, like, this time it was about relationships. It was all," Steve's voice pitches up, whiny and nasally. "When are you going to get a serious relationship like Brandon, Steve? When are you going to settle down, Steve? When are you going to stop being a disappointment, Steve?"

He huffs another sigh, this one tinged with more defeat. You feel your face twitch in sympathy.

"So, just to get them shut up I…" Steve averts his gaze to study the counter-top suddenly. He draws an idle circle with his free hand. "I said that I was actually dating someone."

You take in his words. "But you're not."

"Thank you, genius. I had no idea." Steve straightens up with a scoff, throwing his hands out. Dragging them down his face, another groan warbles out of him.

"But now they're expecting me to show up to this dinner with someone — someone I'm dating — and I cannot admit I lied. So, please, be my girlfriend for one night."

You snort. His distress, a disaster of his own making, is just a tad bit funny. Just a little. A smidge. "Dude, chill. Just say your girlfriend is sick and she can't come."

Steve laughs mirthlessly. "That's like the adult equivalent of saying oh you don't know her, she goes to another school. No, I can't do that! C'mon, please."

His hands clasp together, raised in a plea.

"Think of it as one hugely, massive favour."

You take a moment to think it over.

"When is it?"

"This weekend, Saturday, 5 o'clock."

"Dress code?"

"Formal. Duh."

"How many people?"

"Uh, my mom, my dad, my brother, his fiancée. Maybe my uncle? Four or five."

Saturday was only a couple days away. He'd left it awfully late to ask—and you're not exactly sure who else would step up for the job if you said no. For the first time since he threw out the insane suggestion, you properly consider it — and feel your face screw up instinctively.

You? Pretending to be Steve's girlfriend?

Sure, to some girls that probably sounded like a dream come true, but it hadn't ever been like that between you and Steve.

You weren't even sure if you could picture it, being tucked under his arm, receiving delicate kisses on the head instead of noogies. Your nose wrinkles again at the oddity.

It wasn't like people didn't like to speculate — men and women can't just be friends, after all — but getting on Steve Harrington's kiss list had never really been a priority to you. Would you even be able to pull it off?

Your mind casts out to the girls that Steve tends to date, nit-picking as you try to think of what separated you from them. While Steve would certainly vehemently deny it, you're pretty sure you can pick a pattern out from the array of girls. A type that you certainly wouldn't see yourself fitting into.

Steve just… doesn't go for girls like you.

Steve, watching you closely, sees the hesitation sink in. He leans forward again, bargaining face on.

"You can veto every movie we watch for the next month."

You squint at him. Raise your chin an inch, forcing yourself not to smile too obviously. It's not often you get to see Steve looking ready to actually grovel for something.

He narrows his eyes, catching onto your deviousness. "Fine. I'll pay for your shakes for the next month, too."

You take another moment to think it over, exaggerating the hmmm sound you make. You tap your finger against your chin, indicating you're not quite convinced yet.

Steve leans further forward, his expression inching toward a bitchy disbelief. A muscle in his jaw twitches.

He looks as though he might start another slew of scoffing, his tongue pressed into his cheek, before he seems to re-evaluate what's at stake here.

He says, "I will drive you up to Indianapolis on—" He holds up one finger. "—one occasion when you ask."

Grinning, you stick out your hand for him to shake.

"You've got a deal, mister."

Steve sighs, his shoulders sagging in relief as he drops his hand to rest in yours. You give it a firm shake and just when you can see the thank-you forming on his lips, you tug his hand forward. You grin wider, almost taunting.

"I would've done it just for the shakes, just so you know."

Steve does scoff this time, ripping his hand back from yours. "You're an awful friend."

You bite down your smile, already dreaming of the free shake you'll be sipping all the way out to Indianapolis. You take a sip of your water and raise your brows at Steve over the lip of your cup.

"Hey. Don't you mean awful girlfriend." You wiggle your brows, not failing to see the hint of pink that colours Steve's cheeks.

Despite the colour in his face, Steve manages to deliver a long, unimpressed stare at you.

His eyes flick down your figure, clearly turning your words over in his head, then back up. As though he's actually realising what he's asked you to do.

He huffs another sigh, running his hand down his face. "Jesus Christ. This is an awful idea."

"Hey, it's your idea, not mine."

—

A stray blouse flies from the closet, landing in an unceremonious lump at the foot of your bed.

You toe at it gently, narrowed gaze travelling from the murky colour up toward the closet, to the perpetrator currently tearing your wardrobe apart. He doesn't even pause, hands still digging, almost resembling a dog burying a bone.

Sighing, you drop your head back, hair splaying against your pillow. The water-stain on your bedroom ceiling greets your sigh with silence.

You had thought that, while sure, yeah, the Harrington's are a fancy bunch, it ultimately wouldn't be that much of a hassle to step in as Steve's date.

You'd have to dig through your closet for the nicest thing you owned (and seldom wore) and you and Steve would concoct a ludicrous story that could be the next John Hughes film.

It would take an hour, tops.

A severe underestimation. Maybe the promise of one hugely, massive favour should've tipped you off.

"Are you being serious right now?" You moan from your place on the bed. You shift your head forward again, eyeing your best friend across the room.

Steve, still buried in your closet, makes a loud harumph in answer. His voice comes out muffled against the clothes, too swamped amongst the fabric. "—Y'know, this wouldn't be so hard if you actually had anything wearable in here—"

You make a noise of indignation, tipping your head further forward. Your necklace shifts, the pendant sliding down the chain and hitting the comforter beneath you.

"And just what are you trying to say?"

Steve pauses for a moment, his hands halted on a pair of coat-hangers. He leans out from the clothing and lets his head loll back, his hazel eyes forming a flat stare.

"Har har." Steve says sarcastically. He turns back to the closet, the coat-hanger in his hand scraping as he pushes it along, assessing each piece with quick, attuned eyes. "I'm just saying you have a lack of clothing that my mother deems acceptable."

He turns back for a second. "Which is a good thing, by the way."

You hum in agreement, letting your head flop back onto your pillow. You've seen the pantsuits Cynthia Harrington wears.

Steve continues his barrage through your wardrobe, making a noise of disapproval every couple of seconds.

You also can't say you had expected to get started so soon; as in immediately post fake-girlfriend proposal. It occurs to you that perhaps you've said yes to something bigger than you expected.

"You're taking this really seriously." You comment.

"Yeah, well," Steve reaches in and tosses another blouse, this one pale-blue, on the bed by your feet. "I know you've met my parents before but they're, like, different when Brandon comes around."

"Different?"

"Like worse. Way, way worse." He draws a line with a flat hand. "Brandon makes them just so—"

His hand curls up, forming a fist. He sighs, dropping it to rest on his hip. For a long moment, he stares into your wardrobe.

You push up on one elbow, brows knitting together. "Steve?"

Steve jolts lightly at your voice, torn out of his thoughts. He reaches out and plucks another blouse from your wardrobe, a maroon pleated one that you'd sworn you had thrown away. It's horrendous and definitely picked out by your mother. He turns and chucks it on the bed, crumpling atop the others and looks up at you, hands perched on his hips.

"Just, like, the smoother this dinner goes, the better, okay?"

You sit up completely, catching the seriousness leaking into Steve's voice. Damn. He actually sounds pretty worked up about the whole thing.

You smile, aiming for comfort. Even if you hadn't quite grasped what you had said yes to, Steve was still your best friend.

His parents were… difficult on the best of days. It was clear he was going for the least eventful, head-down approach as he could for this.

You could do that.

"Okay." You nod, more serious this time, eyeing the blouses on the end of the bed. You miss the relief that shutters across Steve's face. "We got three days til Saturday. What do you need me to do?"

"You can start," Steve says, spinning back to face your chest of drawers this time. His eyes flash over, with a hint of mirth. "By telling me if you even own a skirt that goes below your knees, you scandalous woman."

You laugh and get to your feet, wandering towards your drawers to pull open the bottom most one. Fishing around, you try to recall if you have anything church-worthy, tongue poking out your lips.

A hideous woollen skirt gifted to you for Christmas a couple years ago springs to mind. You shiver.

"Below the knee, huh?" You say. "You better start telling me about the role I'll be playing if I can't even turn up as myself."

You're only half joking. Your fingers curl around the scratchy fabric and you wrinkle your nose in recognition. Tugging it forward, it escapes the confines of your drawers and splays out with a sudden poof. You get the joy of remembering just how ugly it really is.

Twisting, you hold it up to Steve who has taken your place on your bed, laid back.

"Think this'll do?"

Steve's head perks up and he locks onto the skirt in your grasp. "Ugh, it's awful. Perfect."

You drop the skirt, abandoning it to take your place next to Steve on the bed. The springs creak slightly as your weight joins Steve's, the bed dipping and forcing you closer together. A smile sneaks onto his face.

"Okay, but for real," You jab a finger into the softness of Steve's side and he makes a little noise of complaint. "You've gotta tell me what I'm expecting for this, dude. It would be, like, catastrophically mean of you to send me in there blind."

Steve sighs — something he's really doing that a lot recently — and rolls toward you, propping his head up with one arm. The edges of his polo stretch as his bicep bulges. He frowns down at your comforter as he thinks.

"I don't know if I actually can prepare you for it." He admits, raising his gaze to look at you through his lashes. "Like, I think we're gonna have to just come up with a story and fend off the questions as best we can."

Another thought occurs to you. You frown. "Wait, don't your parents, like, know about me already?"

Steve's gaze darts away, this time staring at your comforter with a greater intensity. He gives a mirthless chuckle. "Yeah, well, that's why it'll work. They basically already ask me when we'll be getting together."

Your brows jump. A teasing grin taunts your mouth but you forsake it for a more helpful approach.

"Alright, then," You say. "Then let's do better than fending off the wolves. If I'm gonna be your fake girlfriend, I'm not gonna half-ass it. Let's knock the socks off your parents."

Steve's eyes jump up, meeting your stare and it takes another moment before he realises you're being genuine. You grin, poking him in the side again.

"And Brandon."

"Yeah?" Steve smiles. He sounds a tad awed at your dedication, his eyes roaming over your face gently. After a moment, he shakes his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "Okay. Uh, we have to come up with a backstory first."

"And it has to be one that your parents will believe too."

Steve nods, then pauses, a frown knitting together his eyebrows. "Wait, when did we get together? We can't have just started dating that's— like, almost as bad as showing up without a girlfriend."

You blink, perturbed. "What?"

"Oh, hey mom and dad." Steve says, his tone sardonic and flat. "Oh yeah, this is my girlfriend who I somehow started dating just one week ago, coincidentally just in time for this family dinner."

You cringe a little. He does have a point.

"Fine." You say. A little worry burrows into your brain — the longer you make your 'relationship', the more details you have to construct, to remember, and recall correctly.

You worry your bottom lip. "How long is long enough though? If it's too long, we have to remember more things."

Steve's mouth twists in thought. He gives a hmm.

"I think the last time you saw my parents was… sometime around New Year's Eve, right? They had that party, d'ya remember?"

You wrack your brain and find a memory with glittering fireworks and greasy hot-dogs. Steve had too much champagne and emptied his stomach into a bush. Faintly, the memory of passing by Mr and Mrs. Harrington fits in there— only for a moment.

"Yeah," You say.

Combing over the last years' events, you try to think if there's anything else you would've seen them at.

Graduation? You try to smooth out the wrinkles of that memory too; sunny day, sweltering gown. You hadn't remembered seeing Steve's parents there. "'Cos they didn't come to graduation, did they?"

"Nope." Steve says, popping the p. He rolls back to lie flat on your bed, folding his hands to rest on his chest. "What about after one of my basketball games? The final one of the season." He proposes, eyes tracking back to you.

You laugh without meaning to, spurred on by Steve's surprise.

"Really? At your basketball game? That's when the sparks went flying and we got together?"

Steve's mouth drops open an inch in offense. He throws his hands up. "What? That's, like, totally romantic." He defends. "Besides, it's a good reason for our friendship to have changed."

"You lost that game."

"I still scored!"

"Fine." You appease, laughing lightly. "We got together after you lost the last basketball game of the season."

Steve wrinkles his nose again. "Well, don't put it like that."

You laugh again, soft and light.

"Who asked who?"

"I asked you." Steve says.

You nod, carefully trying to commit the detail to memory. Your head spins as you try to think up the variety of different questions you might get asked at the dinner.

What sort of questions might his parents ask? Or his brother? They'll probably want to know the basics — how you got together, how it's going. You might get a shake-down to see if you're worthy of dating a Harrington.

Then, of course, there is the matter of ensuring you're a convincing couple. In love enough to be brought along to an exclusive family event.

That means… getting touchy. The thought sends a jolt through your stomach— will you have to kiss?

You bury the thought. You'll cross that bridge and have it's subsequently unavoidable, awkward conversation when you get to it.

You're not sure who'll you will have more trouble convincing; Brandon or Steve's parents. But from what you know of Steve's family, you'd bet none of them know him that well.

For all you know, this could well be a walk in the park. Maybe the easiest free trip to Indianapolis ever earned.

"What's Brandon like?" You ask, trying to get a better sense of who you'll be fooling. "Do you think he'll ask many questions?"

"He's…" Steve's eyes shift from you to the ceiling, his mouth forming a flat line. "An asshole, like my dad. He's got this amazing talent for getting under my skin. Which usually includes undermining just about anything I have going for me in my life. Or—" He gestures to you with a sigh. "—what I actually don't have going."

He rolls his head in your direction, his mouth twisted into a bitchy frown.

"He used to always rat on me to our parents when I was kid. He once got me in trouble for going to see Tommy just because he didn't want to walk me over. Said I disobeyed authority." Steve makes quotations with his fingers.

Your brows raise in disbelief. "Isn't he, like, fifteen years older than you?"

Steve huffs a mirthless laugh. "Yep. Told you, asshole. So, yes, he'll probably ask questions but I don't think he'll expect I'd do something as desperately pathetic as faking a girlfriend so hopefully we'll fly under his radar."

Reaching out, you whack Steve on the arm, relishing in his annoyed ow!

Eyes narrowed, you wait til he's looking at you with his what gives? face before you say, "What you're doing is not pathetic, nor is it desperate. It is an act of survival against your shitty family, okay?"

Steve stares at you for a moment before his shoulders seem to melt, the tension leaking from them. He flops his head back.

"Okay." He murmurs in agreement.

"Alright," You say. "Now, let's get this story straight. We got together at the final game of the season, which would mean we've been together for nearly…"

STEP TWO: THE ACT

Your legs itch and you fight the urge to readjust your tights for the umpteenth time.

Steve, in the driver's seat beside you, drums his hands against the steering wheel too rapidly to be casual. He keeps darting one hand to his mouth, teeth worrying at his thumbnail.

You'd reach out and smack him to get him to stop but you're beginning to feel the lurch of nerves yourself. The drive from your house to Steve's has never seemed so, so entirely too short.

"Okay, uh," Steve's throat clicks, clammed up from his silence for too long.

He hadn't spoken much when he had picked you up, other than to laugh at your joke at the mismatch of yourself and your prim outfit.

You'd ended up finding a double-breasted blazer in your mom's closet and you look almost ready to run as the local mayor. You're even wearing tights.

"We got together the 20th—"

"—of June, last year." You finish for him.

Steve nods, his face still facing forward. His eyes look a tad unfocused, even as he reaches out to adjust the collar of his dress shirt. "Right. So we've been together for, uh, about ten months."

You nod encouragingly, checking the details in your head. "You asked me out. Our first date was—"

"—at The Hawk." Steve cuts in, parroting off your memorised answers. "We saw Labyrinth and, uh, then I drove you home."

That part isn't technically untrue. You and Steve had gone to see Labyrinth together back in June of last year, but it certainly hadn't been a date. You find the details lend themselves quite easily regardless.

"That's when we had our first kiss." You remind him, even if it makes your face heat minisculy. "What did you get me for Christmas?" You quiz.

"Uh," Steve's hand rabbits against the steering wheel, nerves evident. He finally breaks his stare from the road to glance at you, his brows furrowed together, eyes worried. "Fuck, I can't remember."

"It's fine," You stress, waving a hand. "You got me tickets to Billy Joel and we drove out to Indianapolis for the concert in April."

Steve nods a bit too manically, his perfectly coiffed hair coming a bit loose. The houses flashing by the window gradually get bigger, fancier. He bites his thumbnail again and this time you do reach out and tug his wrist away.

"Thanks." He murmurs.

He turns the wheel, the engine droning as the car takes the corner to enter his street. Your nerves hike a mile higher and you tug at your tights fruitlessly again. The street is lined with nice cars — not unexpected for Steve's neighbourhood.

What is unexpected is the sheer volume. You and Steve peer out the car windows, eyes wide, as you take in the full street. When you swallow, your throat feels particularly dry.

You turn to Steve. "I thought they said it was a family dinner?"

Steve, his eyes darting from car to car, either trying to find a park amongst the packed sidewalk or maybe just panicking like you are, takes a moment to meet your eyes. He looks a lovely shade of chalky white.

"They definitely did."

There's a free space down the end of Steve's street, the driveway already full with two cars, neither you can recognise.

Steve's foot hits against the brake too abruptly and the car jerks to a stop, rocking forward. You grip the edges of your seat tightly as Steve kills the engine. For a moment, neither of you make a sound.

"What if there's more than just family in there?" Steve croaks, turning slowly to face you.

The paleness in his face has pitched toward something greener. He swallows heavily, twisting back to stare out the windshield and his hands on the wheel tighten. "Oh my god, this is— this isn't gonna to work."

"Steve."

"Valentines, we did Lover's Lake," Steve mutters to himself, eyes still out the window. "Fuck, this is so stupid."

"Steve," You try again. His own panic is worsening your own and if he continues to spiral, you fear you might never make it out of the car and you did not wear itchy tights for that to happen.

"You got me the Michael Jackson record for my birthday," He rattles off again, almost absentmindedly, as though his mind can't pick between panicking about trying to remember all the details or the apparent extra guests.

"This is— oh my god, we're never gonna convince them."

"Steve." You say firmly. His head snaps around, broken from his mutterings. He blinks at you.

You take a deep, exaggerated breath in. Steve follows instinctively, his shoulders rising as he inhales.

"We will convince them." You insist earnestly.

Offering out your upturned hand, you wait for Steve to shift to place his bigger hand in yours. When he does, your fingers curl around it, cradling it.

You can feel the rabbit of his pulse at your fingertips and you meet his eye as you say, "We know each other—really well. We're best friends. We've practised, we look the part, okay? Now, all we have to do is… be a couple for an evening. It's going to be fine."

Steve swallows and for a moment, he doesn't say anything. Then his breath bursts out in a release of tension, his hand finally squeezing yours back. "God, what would I do without you?"

"Crash and burn, probably." You tease, thankful when unease hanging on his frame is replaced by something more familiar.

Steve makes an appalled noise, tightening his grip on your hand so you can't pull it back. His other hand moves, his fingers dancing across the ticklish skin on the inside of your arm til you shriek out in laughter, yanking your hand back.

Your laughter seems to have dimmed the nervousness a bit. You glance over your shoulder, down the street, and track an older couple dressed primly entering the Harrington home. As you turn back to Steve, you swallow to gather your nerves.

"Ready?"

Steve doesn't look like he is, his shifting, unsure eyes and stressing hands. He pushes his palms against his slacks and takes a sharp inhale, before meeting your eyes. "Ready as I'll ever be."

You count the steps up to the doorway without even meaning to, arriving at the Harrington doorstep in approximately 47 steps. The maroon double doors before you seem taller than usual. Steve raises his hand to knock and then halts, his attention shifting to his upraised hand.

He quickly tucks it back against his side, except this time with his elbow held out for you.

A faint pang of surprise in your chest, coloured with something softer, nicer. You’ve seen somewhat what Steve’s like on his dates and you’ve certainly heard plenty of the aftermath. But you’ve never been on one, of course.

As you loop your arm to nook in his, you find yourself unexpectedly eager to find out exactly what it’s like to be Steve Harrington’s date.

Steve knocks on the door, then twists the knob and lets himself in.

Despite seeing the earlier guests, there’s little to prepare you for the room full of people that stand on the other side of the door. Moving on instinct, clinging to Steve’s arm, you step through the threshold and into the lion's den.

Your nerves fry. Never mind lion's den; you feel more like a fly caught in a web. Frog boiling in a pot? No, that doesn't work because you know exactly what you were signed up to when you said yes to Steve.

Well, not precisely. You survey the crowd, counting at least three times as many people as you were expecting with nervous eyes.

Your little white lie with Steve just graduated to having an entire audience. No pressure, right?

“Steven.”

The croon of Cynthia Harrington greets the pair of you.

You feel Steve stiffen up beside you, his shoulders rolling back, his entire body straightening up. His throat bobs as he swallows nervously.

“Mom,” Steve says. His voice is a bit dry and he swallows again. “You didn’t say there were going to be this many people here.”

He’s polite enough to not word it as an accusation. His niceties don’t work, bouncing off the painstakingly sculpted smile of a businesswoman.

“Please, it’s a networking event, I’m not sure what you expected.” She adjusts her diamond earring, swaying and heavy, as she speaks dismissively. “I told you this, Steven.”

You never hear anyone call Steve Steven other than his parents.

“No, Mom, you didn’t.”

There’s a barely restrained bite in his words.

That catches Cynthia’s attention. She stops her roaming gaze to focus on her son, not even glancing at you. After a moment, she gives an exasperated huff.

“Well, why else would we be back, Steven? Your father is trying to close business with Mr. Collings.”

The sting isn’t even for you — in fact, you don’t even think she realises she’s dealt it — but you feel it all the same. Steve’s arm looped with yours tightens, a minuscule motion.

Though you know he thinks they’re all assholes, it doesn’t stop Steve from hoping they’ll come back for him.

“Right.” Steve says, voice tight. “Sure. Of course.”

You’re just thinking about dragging him away from this barbed conversation, clearly pricking all his sensitive spots, when Cynthia’s sharp gaze slides over to you.

Her eyes gleam in recognition and her posture changes.

“Oh, is this the girlfriend you’ve spoken of?”

This time you’re the one who stiffens up. It’s momentary. You know that Steve’s likely freaking out too and at least one of you has to pull yourself together.

The most winning smile you can manage glides onto your face.

“That’s me.” You squeeze Steve’s arm with your hand. It's half in genuine comfort, half in show.

Cynthia regards you for another long moment before she manages to straighten up further, as though pinched.

“Oh! Yes, I recognise you. Remind me of your name, dear?”

It’s a struggle not to grit your teeth. Steve and you have been friends for nearing ten years now.

Still, you relay it politely for her. Your smile feels a bit wooden now.

“Oh, Steven. How nice.” Cynthia says, a touch of patronisation in her tone. Her beady eyes slice back to yours. “He had such a crush on you for the longest time, it’s—”

“Mom.” Steve hisses, cutting her off. Another unexpected jolt of something warm in your chest. Wait, really?

You chance a glance up at Steve. His ears are tinted pink.

You’re not entirely sure what to make of how that makes you feel, so you shelve it for later. Maybe when you’re not being thrown to the sharks by Steve’s awful parents.

Okay, too many animal metaphors. Falling asleep to the Discovery Channel last night is definitely taking its toll.

“We’re gonna mingle, find Dad.” Steve says hurriedly. He moves forward, past his mother, and tugs you with him. Your legs itch with the reminder of your scratchy tights.

“Alright, Steven. Make sure you say hello to your brother!”

Steve huffs, loud enough that you hear it, and you let him lead you through the throngs of middle-aged people. He stops when he reaches the kitchen, finally unwinding his arm with yours.

He does it so he can shove his hands in his hair, a stressed motion from Steve if you’ve ever seen one.

“God, okay, that went well.” He says sarcastically.

“Stop. You’re ruining your hair.” You reach up and rescue his lochs from his harsh grip, fingers around his wrists to tug his hands away. You’re far too aware of how long it had taken him to do.

Steve lets you. When you focus on his face, you notice the pink from his ears is also on his cheeks.

The question jumps off your tongue, unbidden.

“Was she telling the truth? About… the crush? Or was she just trying to tease you?”

The pink dips closer to scarlet. Steve sighs, his eyes closing for a moment.

“I— she- yes,” He admits. Your heart shudders at the revelation. Steve’s eyes open and he twists his hands so he can hold yours in them. “But, like, not now. In the past. Years ago, I promise.”

For his sake, you do your best not to take it too seriously. Even if you wanted to pry, now is not the time nor the place to do so.

However, you can’t resist a small, teasing grin. Steve catches it and his embarrassment gives way to exasperation instantly.

“You likeeed me,” You say in a sing-song voice.

Teasing is not unfamiliar in your friendship with Steve and getting to joke around, even at this strange party, feels nicer. Steve groans dramatically, his eyes closing and his hands pushing against your hands to shove you away.

A new voice interrupts.

“Liked? I sure hope he likes you now, being his girlfriend and all.”

You and Steve both snap out of your easy joking, remembering that you’re supposed to be presenting as a couple. Head turning to who had spoken, it only takes a couple of seconds for you to place who it is.

He looks a little bit like Steve, but not really.

The eyes are different, not as slanted and he hasn’t got any of Steve’s beautiful moles. But the nose, the mouth, put together with matching brown hair and tan skin, you know who this is without having to ask.

“Brandon.” Steve says. The name is stilted in his mouth.

Brandon smirks, his same hazel coloured eyes dragging a long, scathing once-over of his younger brother. He doesn’t look impressed, if his disinterested expression is anything to go by.

Then he does the same to you.

It’s almost tangible, the prickly feeling of his gaze raked over your body. Searching, hunting, nearly making you want to perk up to gain his approval.

God, Steve was right on the money. This guy is like his father but worse.

“The eye-candy of the month, huh?” He says to you, chuckling as if he’s made a joke.

You consider, then make the decision to throw all pleasantries out the window. You don’t smile back.

“Actually, Steve and I will be coming up on one year soon.”

Tangling your hands back together as you say it, you lean into Steve’s side. It’s warm, smells of his cologne. Only when you gaze up at him, do you let a smile grace your lips. It’s soft and genuine.

Steve smiles back down at you, crooked and lovely.

“I’m surprised anyone could settle him down,” Brandon continues and you turn back to him, fighting the urge to narrow your eyes. It doesn’t escape you how he’s jumped from one slight dig to the next.

He’s clever with it. Polite enough that Steve can’t exactly bring it up as an issue.

Brandon continues, swirling his crystal tumbler of whiskey idly. “Surprised he wanted to. Little bro always seemed like such a womanizer. Didn’t think he’d want just one chick.”

He leans in and socks Steve on the shoulder, hard, when he says the word womanizer. He’s grinning.

You have to admit, Brandon’s far too good at this — good at getting under your skin. If you hadn’t been forewarned of his behaviour, if you actually were Steve’s girlfriend, it would certainly rub you the wrong way. He’s certainly doing his best to sprinkle grit and strife between you two.

And you know it hurts Steve to hear — Sure, maybe when he was a thick-headed freshman, with no clue about the world, he had acted that way.

Nowadays... Anyone who knows Steve, even a little bit, knows he wants the real deal, more than anything.

“Not anymore,” Steve says, though it’s not nearly as confident as he usually is. He clears his throat and casts his gaze around. “Where’s Ariel?”

“Ah,” Brandon hums, looking around himself. He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “Not sure. I think I left her in conversation with the Erickson’s from across the street. She’s been pleading with her eyes to be saved but hey, she’s gotta learn sometime, right?”

Your lip curls up in distaste before you remember yourself. Fingers intertwined with Steve’s, you clutch them tighter for some semblance of strength.

You’ve got to get the two of you out of here before you start outright sneering at this man — which is very much not the heads-down approach Steve had asked for.

“Babe,” you say, effectively dismissing Brandon’s comment as you look up at Steve. He looks down at you and squeezes your hand. “Can we grab a drink, please? I’m feeling thirsty.”

Steve murmurs his affirmation and you both turn back to Brandon to bid a polite goodbye. His left eye twitches just once, the only indication that he’s put off by your subtle rejection.

“Well,” Brandon fixes his features, his smirk sliding back into place. “Don’t let me keep you. What was your name again, sweetheart?”

“I didn’t say.” You say, forcing the politest, more nonchalant expression on your face. You let him stew in the awkwardness, waiting for him to break and ask.

He doesn't. Brandon just smiles, though this time it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He holds out his hand and despite how you don’t want to, you place your own in it to shake it.

“Well, it’s been real nice getting to meet you. I hope I’ll see more of you later tonight.” He smiles like a promise. His grip tightens in the handshake.

You grip his hand tighter, matching his strength, and for the first time in the whole conversation, you match his perfectly fake smile.

“Not if I see you first,” You say, spoken pleasantly enough that the meaning of your words doesn’t sink in until you’ve pulled back. You urge Steve somewhere, anywhere that’s not here.

“C’mon, let’s get that drink.”

There’s a punch-bowl out in the living room, thankfully. Displayed next to it is a large jell-o mould, arsenic green, and jiggling gently whenever someone bumps the table. Rich people stuff, you assume.

You eye it curiously as Steve quietly ladles a cup for you, then himself.

The punch is pineapple flavoured but peachy in colour. You sniff the cup Steve gives you hesitantly before you take a small sip. It’s nice. Mostly juice.

You peer up at Steve over the next sip and the cup hides your near hiccup of surprise when his hand slides along your waist. His hand, warm and large, settles on the small on your back and urges you closer.

“That was— wait, this is okay, right?” He pulls his hand back an inch, hovering over your waist. You nod without having to think about it.

“Okay,” He sighs in relief, resting it back down. His thumb moves, soothing along the fabric almost absentmindedly.

He grins at you, “That was, like, amazing to watch. The whole —not if I see you first— just, god, his face. Amazing.” His hand on your waist squeezes lightly. “You’re amazing. I didn’t know you could be so snobby.”

He says the last word slightly too loud and you laugh, worriedly stealing a glance around the room. No one’s paying you much mind. You do notice, however, that Brandon’s meandered into the living room now.

You sidle closer, tucking up under Steve’s arm.

Surprise touches Steve's features; his brows raising a bit, lips parting, and cheeks colouring that ruby colour once more.

It’s as if, despite all your previous agreements, he’s forgotten that you’re supposed to be acting like a couple.

As if he’s forgotten that couples act like this. In love, that is.

“Are you finding this weird?” He murmurs, volume control on this time. It’s said just to you, muffled into your hairline.

From afar, you think it might look like he’s kissing your forehead.

You take another sip of the punch, peering at his dress shirt, and consider his question. It’s not weird, per se. You tell him as much.

“I think it’s just new,” You look up at him — closer than you usually ever see him. His lashes are long and spidery. His hazel eyes are lighter under the lights. “Just different to what we’re used to. It’s… nice, I think.”

“You think?”

You expect Steve to tease you for your own unexpected soft answer but instead, his response comes out with a strange reverence.

If you had to pick a word, something traitorous would maybe call it hopeful. Wait, traitorous? Wait, hopeful?

"Yeah," You shrug a little, no big deal. "I mean it's not that much different from how we already are, right? Just a little more..."

Steve's thumb swatches along your back, more intentionally this time.

"Touchy?" He provides.

You nod and pretend the strange acknowledgement isn't making you feel a tad more flustered.

The touchiness is really quite nice. It’s sweet to have an anchor in this freaky social situation, very much unlike the aforementioned and abandoned Ariel. Steve’s hand on you is a grounding touch, a constant soft reminder of the person who has your back—literally.

And the person is Steve — which, again, isn’t really that different from what you’re used to. He sorta always has your back anyway.

You suppose it hasn't really crossed your mind before, not in depth at least, the small changes that would occur if you and Steve really did date.

How different would it really be?

Chin tilting up, you slyly steal a look at him as Steve scans the party. He's probably planning escape routes, jaw clenched subtly. He's clean-shaven, not a whisper of that stubble that you think suits him rather well.

Would you still be friends, if the two of you dated?

The question feels silly the moment you think it, even if it's only spoken in your mind. You wrinkle your nose lightly and hide it behind another sip of punch. There's an easy answer to that.

Of course you would. It's like you just said: not that different from how you are now. Same teasing dynamic, same loyal history, same sharing embarrassing secrets and same driving around doing nothing, loving it.

Just more. More of this.

Steve squeezes your side warmly, his head twisted to look back down at you. He's asked you a question you realise.

"Hm?"

"I was asking how long do you think it's acceptable to wait to fake a heart-attack to get us out of here?”

Amusement draws your eyebrows up. You grin up at Steve. "A heart-attack? At your youthful, healthy age? C'mon, Steve, they'll never believe it."

Steve's expression twitches closer to bitchy as he considers your rebuttal. You take another sip of punch. He relents.

"Fine. What else? I’m not above faking haemorrhoids.”

The punch in your mouth comes back out in a surprised splutter, thankfully landing mostly back in your cup. A drop of it streaks down your chin.

Your surprise quickly morphs into a glare, eyes shifting up to deliver it to your best friend.

The shit-eating grin on Steve’s face tells you that his timing was not accidental.

“You’re unbelievable,” You hiss because what happened to the polite, head down, and not eventful approach that Steve had all but pleaded from you?

He reaches for a napkin for you without asking — and then tugs you in closer with the hand around your waist, brings the napkin up to your face. He hovers, giving you a moment to realise what he’s doing, before he dotingly swipes away the streak of juice.

“Careful now, honey,” He says, giving the petname a teasing intonation.

How he managed to pick the petname that does actually make your heart perk up in your chest is beyond you. Maybe he knows you better than you think.

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be?” You ask, brows raised, pretending to be annoyed. Your bitten-back grin gives you away. “Making me spit my punch and then just sprinkling in a petname—”

“—like you didn’t do that first, with Brandon in the kitchen.” Steve interjects. He crumples the napkin and drops it back on the table.

“Okay," You say. "Fair."

"We forgot to discuss that, actually," Steve says. He sounds casual but he looks away, studying the punchbowl rather intently. "What... like, do you like to be called? In a relationship?"

It is an oversight both of you managed to miss, which makes you feel a little foolish now. You focus on the question.

"I like honey," You admit gingerly. A tepid smile threatens at your lips and when you look up at Steve, he's already turned back to watch you closely. "It's a bit old-fashioned. Sounds more like something you say if you're married but...I think it's nice."

"Yeah," Steve says softly. "Me too."

Something hums brightly in your chest at his gentle expression, his fondness zeroed in only on you. You break his gaze to swallow, your mouth suddenly dry.

"What about you?"

Steve chuckles. "Don't like babe."

"Too late."

“Yeah, well, obviously.”

There’s a beat and you think if you’ve ever had this conversation before. Sweetened preferences didn’t usually make it into your gossip sessions. This is new territory.

“I like sweetheart too,” Steve says, somewhat offbeat. As if he’d thought for too long if he’d say it or not.

He peers down at you, a scrunch in his nose. “Not like Brandon says it though. He might’ve ruined that one for me.”

“He can ruin this dinner, but not that.” You decide for him. “C’mon, sweetheart. We look like we’re stealing all the punch.”

Using your hand in his, you lead him away from the punch table and weave through the people milling about the living room. A touch of resistance makes you glance back. You can see a pink glow painted on Steve’s cheeks.

Your feet come to a halt, twisting back to properly face him. You can’t resist the urge to tease. “Oho, you weren’t kidding- you do like that one.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve murmurs, his tongue pressed into his cheek and his eyes narrowed.

“I don’t believe I raised you so poorly as to address a lady like that, Steven.”

You jump at the intrusion, realising you’d unluckily managed to stop right beside Mr. Harrington. Fuck, why are all of Steve’s family so good at sneaking up on you? You chalk it up to their snakeish tendencies.

“Dad.” Steve says hurriedly. Then, with a quick swallow, he corrects himself. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Mr. Harrington is not what you’d call an impressive man. Sure, his suit is tailored to fit and you have no doubt his overwhelming cologne costs more than three paychecks combined — but in substance? He lacks. Severely.

You’ve met him thrice.

Every time, you wonder how someone as wonderful as Steve, can come from someone like him.

Though, it certainly explains the god-awful ‘King Steve’ phase Steve had gone through in his freshman and sophomore year. You shiver at the memory.

“It was warranted, Mr. Harrington, believe me,” You jump in to move the attention of Steve’s father back to you, easily shouldering the blame. A smile, cool and collected, graces your face. “I was teasing him, after all.”

Mr. Harrington grunts in disagreement. “Hardly an excuse to speak so crudely, especially in front of guests.”

Opening your mouth to defend him again, Steve speaks first. “You’re right, sir. I apologise, it won’t happen again.”

Steve still shoots you a thankful glance. You clamp down your half-formed response and squeeze his hand instead. He squeezes back.

Maybe the two of you should’ve learned morse-code with all the squeezing you’re both doing. You hadn’t anticipated holding his hand for this long.

You could let go. You don’t really want to — and you’re pretty sure, neither does Steve.

You can’t remember the last time you held his hand.

“Your new girlfriend, I presume?” Mr. Harrington nods to you.

Steve barely gets a moment to respond when his father is waving him forward, stepping back to open a circle of middle-aged men behind him.

“Come, there’s a few associates I’d like you to meet, Steven.”

There’s no question, only a demand. Despite how it feels like stepping into a pit of vipers — damn you, Discovery Channel — you and Steve join the circle.

“Gentlemen,” Mr. Harrington addresses the four men before you, a wry smile on his face. “My son, Steven.”

Then, as an afterthought, with a glance your way. “And his girlfriend.”

“Oh? Not fianceé?” One of the men speaks up. He’s balding, his hair combed over in an attempt to cover his ruddy coloured scalp.

“I’m afraid you’re thinking of my other son, Brandon.” Mr. Harrington says, words suddenly imbued with a proud tone. Steve’s hand grows rigid in yours, though you don’t think he’s even noticed. You send a squeeze back.

A different man speaks up. This man has all his hair, but also has a pot-belly that threatens to send buttons on his dress shirt flying.

“Ah, well, fianceé to be, I bet.” He says, speaking directly to Steve and ignoring you. “Soon it’ll be the ol’ ball and chain. Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, son.”

Then the fucker winks at you—as if you’re in on some big joke. A deep, miserable pity dawns in you for their wives.

“Actually,” Steve begins. There’s an edge in his voice.

You glance up at him concernedly — sure, these guys are douchebags, but you know that. Throwing in the polite and heads-down approach in front of his father might be the worst timing ever.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Steve says. The bite in his voice has receded and instead, he sounds calm. Polite. “My girlfriend is one of the best things in my life. She’s smart, talented, beautiful— and why she chooses to waste her time with me is a mystery to me.”

He speaks as though he believes every word he’s saying, a hundred percent. You realise you’re holding your breath when Steve turns to look down at you. His hazel eyes are soft, genuine.

“She makes me a better person. She’s… She’s my best friend.”

The line between your genuine friendship and this fake concocted act blurs entirely — and suddenly, you can’t tell what is real and what is not.

Worse, you’re not sure which you'd prefer more.

Does he really think all those things about you?

Steve, who should probably, definitely take up an acting gig after this, plants a quick, nimble kiss on your forehead to sell his loving words.

He turns back to his father’s business friends.

“Believe me, if I ever get so lucky as to marry her, I’d be the ball and chain.” He chuckles. “Not the other way around.”

You’re still holding your breath, heart stuck somewhere halfway up your throat. The businessmen before you show varying amounts of surprise and annoyance—none more of the latter than Mr. Harrington himself.

It doesn’t matter. Steve’s said it all in that perfectly polite way that’s so often been used against him. Something within you glows hotly with pride.

“Now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us,” Steve says politely. He drops your hand to re-link your arms once more, then nods to them. “I need to reapply my haemorrhoid cream.”

You’re pretty sure Steve turns you both away from the conversation as fast as he does, knowing that you’re gonna laugh. You do, his last sentence so unexpected it turns your laugh into this foul half hacking, half coughing noise.

Steve pats your back, expecting it, raising his voice as he walks you forward, “There, there.”

There’s a little smugness in his tone. You wait until you pass back into the front hall — now Cynthia Harrington free — to unlink your arms and smack him on the chest.

“Asshole!” You exclaim, but you’re already laughing. Steve’s laughing too, the sound bright and honeyed amongst the dull murmur of the event. God, the looks on their faces.

“I didn’t think you would actually do that.”

“Hey, it got us out of the conversation, didn’t it?”

“Yes, but,” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, gaze falling from his for a moment. “I mean, won’t your dad…?”

Steve sighs and then shrugs. “I think I’m done trying to impress people like that. If you’re not up to standard to them, why the hell would I care about their opinion of me?”

Your heart feels a little wobbly at that. Steve has always been devastatingly earnest; it’s just less often directed at you. The two of you are used to teasing.

You fall back on it. “Awww,” You coo, gripping his forearms and leaning forward with a coy grin. “You got haemorrhoids for me, honey? That’s so romantic.”

Steve narrows his eyes, trying and failing to suppress his own smile.

“Hey. Fake haemorrhoids, thank you very much.”

“Eh, what’s the big difference?”

“One is my bleeding heart, the other is my bleeding ass, is the big difference.”

He can barely get through the sentence before his laugh takes over. You dissolve into laughter too, cheeks beginning to ache with the force of your grin.

“Steve? Leaving so soon?”

The sweet bubble of laughter around you and Steve pops at the sound of Brandon’s voice. He’s in the doorway that leads to the kitchen and at your attention, he steps toward you, slow and deliberate.

“Yeah, actually,” Steve says. His eyes track Brandon with every calculated step his brother makes til he stops, a few metres from you both.

“Y’know, I heard that hasty exit in front of dad. Did you know that was in front of Mr. Collings? Y’know, the one guy dad’s trying to close a deal with?”

Shit. You swallow heavily. You didn’t know that. You know neither did Steve.

Beside you, Steve grows tense. When he swallows, you hear his throat click from dryness.

Brandon watches and revels in the tiny reactions, his smirk growing. He tucks his hands into his suit pockets casually.

“I talked with mom, too. Learned some interesting stuff, especially about your pretty lady here.”

He nods to you, hazel eyes slicing across to meet yours. Your nerves start to stand on end, something threatening in his calm demeanour setting you off. You grip Steve’s forearms tighter.

“That she is the best friend you’ve been mooning over all these years. And I just thought—” Brandon clicks his tongue. “Man, what are the chances that we don’t hear a thing about you two getting together until this conference? Crazy timing, if you ask me.”

He tilts his head to the side, examining the two of you closely. His smug nature is far, far too much like that of a predator toying with its prey.

“It’s like- wait, no—”

Brandon cuts himself out, fishing a hand out his pocket to gesture to you, grinning smugly like something is funny.

“Is he paying you?”

You recoil back, so baffled and taken aback by the cruel mockery Brandon jumps to make of his younger brother. To make of your best friend.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You snap.

Brandon blinks, surprised, and a bit of his smugness dries up. He draws his hand back, holding it up defensively.

“C'mon, like it's not just the kind of pathetic move he’d pull. I haven’t even seen the two of you kiss.”

He chuckles as if the idea is ludicrous.

STEP THREE: THE KISS

You act without thinking — turning back to Steve, your hands reach up to tightly grasp the collar of his dress shirt.

You see Steve’s hazel eyes widen ever-slightly, then you’re pulling him down, pressing up on your toes, and kissing him.

And… oh.

He’s not half bad at that, you think. It takes Steve a moment, but then his arms circle your waist and after a tentative moment, he kisses back gently, deepening the kiss. Not bad at this at all.

For one brief, precious second, you’re kissing your best friend.

And it's entirely incomparable to any kiss you've experienced before—immeasurable in passion and utterly undoing in a thousand ways.

Steve breathes a little heavier, his cheeks flushed, when you break away. You sink back down off your tiptoes, hands dragging off Steve’s rumpled collar to rest on his chest. You turn to face Brandon.

He doesn’t look so smug anymore. He looks ticked off. Good.

“Brandon, you’re an asshole.” You state plainly. “I hope one day, soon, your fiancée realises what a cruel and shallow bully you really are. And I hope she leaves you for it. Truly.”

The ticked off expression on Brandon's face veers closer to aghast and offended—as if he can’t believe you have the gall to speak to him that way.

“I hope you realise what a stain you are on other people’s life and I sincerely hope that I never have the displeasure of meeting you again.”

Moving to grip Steve’s hand in yours, you move towards the door without a goodbye.

STEP FOUR: THE AFTERMATH

It’s bright outside. Stepping out feels a bit like waking from a stress dream, where in reality, the sun is shining and things that were driving you nuts aren't really problems you actually have.

You stall on the front doorstep, where you were just an hour or so ago.

Well, that didn’t go… awfully, you think. In fact, you’re feeling quite happy with serving Brandon a perfect brand of his own medicine.

You’re about to open your mouth and say as much when Steve drops your hand, brushing past you to head down the stairs, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Your stomach drops at the tone of his voice, a prickly disappointment draped over his words. You’d think you’re reading into it — if Steve wasn’t currently heading for the car, not even waiting for you to catch up. A dead giveaway.

Tights itching from the hasty movement, you quickly follow him and puzzle for a moment. He’s mad. But at what? It takes only a moment to hazard a pretty good guess.

Before the dinner, the awkward conversation of how touchy you two would be had been breached. You and Steve both agreed; no kissing. Even with how close the two of you were, it felt like strange territory to cross into. An unspoken line not to cross.

By kissing him, you’d broken that rule.

Guilt wells up within you. Your moment of telling Brandon to suck it suddenly feels tainted by the sliminess of kissing Steve without permission. You pull at your tights uncomfortably, trailing behind Steve on the sidewalk.

As you reach his car, you swallow the lump in your throat, and speak up.

“I'm sorry, okay?"

Steve, who's reached the driver's side door, looks up and over the top of the car. Then furrows his brow.

"What?"

"For..." The word gets stuck in your throat like wet paper. "Kissing you when we said we wouldn't do that. That was-" You inhale sharply and study the trim along the edge of the car window.

"I just really couldn't stand how he was talking to you. And I thought that would shut him up."

You glimpse back up at Steve. He's softened a little at your words, the crease between his brows gone now. His eyes dart away, a muscle in his jaw working tightly.

"Yeah, well, you were right. It worked."

Steve seems to hear how short his words sound right after he says them, especially as you rear back an inch. He gives a sigh, his eyes falling shut for a moment. "Look, I'm not mad about the kiss, okay?"

His particular wording isn't lost on you.

"But you are mad." You press.

"I'm not."

You step closer to the car, desperate to understand. He is mad but he's not mad about the kiss? Does that mean he is or isn't mad at you?

"You sound mad."

Steve makes a sputtering noise, like he's torn between denying it or not. You catch it, pressing your hands against the car window to lean in even closer.

"So, you are mad. At me? Are you sure it's not because of the kiss?"

“Yes. No." He's furrowing his brow again, confused between how to answer your question correctly. He pinches the bridge of his nose with another sigh. "It’s- no, I'm not mad at you.”

Still not an exact answer. You eye him warily, your guilt still lingering at the front of your chest, aching painfully. It forces out your next words, reminiscent of a rambling apology. You take a step back from the car and begin to pace.

"It's okay if it is the kiss, Steve. I- I mean, we said we wouldn't and I broke that- and I don't want you to ever feel like—"

“I just— I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that!”

That halts your pacing, feet quite suddenly rooted to the spot. You turn rapidly back to Steve, your eyes wider than they were a moment ago, heart jammed back up your throat. Did he just say...?

Steve realises what's escaped him a moment after you do. His hand leaps to cover his mouth as if he can smother the secret he's just let slip.

His eyes crush closed. He smushes his hand against his face more forcefully as though he's trying to push the words back into his mouth.

"What does that mean?" You ask softly. "Steve?"

He clears his throat, dragging the hand down and off his face sluggishly. "That, ah, no- nothing!" He deflects, hands making a crossing motion. "It means—zilch. I just, ah, you know- it's—"

He's thought about it before—about how he'd want a first kiss between the two of you to go.

A glow in you dissolves, the saturated sweetness of it riding through your veins like a sugar rush. You have a sudden wish you weren't wearing such a ghastly outfit for this conversation.

"Steve," You interrupt him. You round the front of the car slowly, stopping with still some distance between you. Let him meet you in the middle. If you're right about all this, that is.

"If there's even a small part of you that wants to do that again," Your breath shudders at your inhale. "You need to tell me."

"A small part?" Steve echoes your words, his tone incredulous. He rounds the car to meet you, his hands out in front of him, flexing into fists. "Don't— don't say what I think you're going to say, if you don't mean it."

He pauses in front of you, eyes blazing with a fierce emotion as he stares down at you. He studies your face and then groans, tipping his head back and burying his hands in his hair.

"It's a big part, y/n. A huge fucking part of me wants to kiss you again and has wanted to for awhile." Steve stresses. His hands sag down from his mussed hair to hang off his neck before he gestures back to the Harrington house.

"What I said in there? About my crush on you being ages ago? I lied. I've had a crush on you for years and I don't think I ever stopped and so if you don’t mean what I think you mean, please don’t… Don’t give me hope.”

There's desperation in his final plea.

A thousand emotions course through you, all competing for your attention. You squint incredulously at Steve, half tempted to sock him for the feeling of a kept-secret. You're best friends for gods sake. Years. Years, he said.

A tremble takes your heart. You open your mouth and try to find the right words.

"Wha... You never said anything."

It comes out a little insulted.

Steve stares at you, flabbergasted. "You never seemed interested!"

"I didn't think I was your type!"

Though it seems impossible, Steve's eyes widen further, his hands shifting to hold out before him, fingers spread wide.

"Are you saying you've thought about it before!?"

"No!" You exclaim, suddenly stressed. You run your hands across your face agitatedly. "I mean, yes. Of course, I've thought about it before!”

Your fingers splay against your cheeks, pulling an expression not unlike the painting The Scream. You're not sure you've ever been this stressed, this undone before.

“Every day through fuckin' high school someone asked me if we were a thing. I just... hadn't, like, considered it til today. Properly."

"Okay, okay," Steve breathes in deeply.

He brings his hands together, clasping them, and he rests them against his forehead. For a second, he stares at the ground before he meets your gaze, dropping his hands.

"And... now?"

Fuck. Right. Cards on the table, you guess.

"Like," You don't know where to put your hands now. They drop off your face and hang loosely at your side. "I told you, I hadn't really, like, thought about it — but we were in there and it just wasn't that different!"

It's a heavy effort to keep yourself looking at Steve. There's no decoding the expression on his face, not when you're already frantically trying to unscramble your own feelings.

"If we did actually, yanno—" You stumble over the words, a fierce and bumbling heat flaming your face. "—date and be—I don't know—boyfriend and girlfriend, like, I guess what would actually change? And now I think we've just been one step removed from dating this whole time!"

Steve takes an almost quivering breath in and takes a step forward, bringing you both closer. He asks the million-dollar question.

"Would you... want that?"

"I," You flex your hands anxiously. "I don't think we can go back to the way things were." You say truthfully.

Something crestfallen ripples across Steve's face. It's hidden away in the next second. You gulp involuntarily. You feel so nervous you can feel it's fizzing inside you, bubbling like a freshly carbonated drink.

But more than that, it feels like you're balancing on the precipice of something good. Like waiting for news on whether you get something you desperately want.

And there it is; the true revelation.

"And I don't think I want to."

The admittance hangs between you, strung out and tinged with your apprehension and Steve's disbelief. He stares at you, brown hair tousled and messy, pink lips parted in his surprise.

He's your best friend and he's been waiting all this time. Holding the torch quietly, the flame flickering low sometimes, but always burning, always for you.

How the hell did you miss it?

"You..." He croaks. He reaches up and tugs at his tie as if it's suddenly too tight around his neck. "You mean that? You'd want to, like, date me?"

What you really want is to kiss him again. To chase away the tender look of disbelief in his eyes with a passionate press of your mouth against his. But you won't kiss him without asking twice in one day.

"I would like to try," You say. It takes a lot of courage to not lose your nerve. You rock up onto the balls of your feet to let out some of the rampant nervous energy.

Steve clocks it, some part of his brain that knows you, and all your tells well, finally coming back online. You're as nervous as he is, and maybe just as unsure.

But you want to try.

That's about all Steve's ever wanted. A chance for more between you.

He closes the distance between you, his hands shifting up and sliding along your neck to cup your jaw. It's ticklish enough to make you shiver and Steve smiles at the motion. He draws your faces closer and you push up on your toes to reach properly, magnetically drawn in.

He pauses just before your lips can touch.

Your eyes scan his face and he does the same to yours, both of you drinking in the intimate closeness. This close, you can see the tiny quiver hidden in his lips.

Fondness percolates between you, sweeter than sunlight and softer than a daydream. You can't resist the smile that toys at your mouth. Steve smiles too.

You're excited.

His pupils are blown wider than usual, only a ring of hazel around them. It might be your new favourite colour.

"I imagined," Steve murmurs lowly, his eyes now trained on your lips. "Our first kiss would be more like this."

The kiss is different from the one in the hallway. There's no surprise in it, no hesitance — Steve cradles your face between his hands preciously and kisses you so fiercely you ache.

He kisses with painstaking reverence. With an unfaltering adoration. Steve kisses you as though he envies anything that's ever touched your lips.

You grapple to find purchase on his suit jacket, your fingers curling around the material and pulling him closer without breaking the kiss. Steve hums into your mouth, his nose pressing against yours. You're both trying to pull each other closer.

"That was-" You breath heavily against his mouth as the kiss breaks. Your eyes open. Steve's gazing at you through his lashes, honey-eyes doting.

"You-" You try again, realising you haven't finished your sentence. You can barely get a word out, a relentless grin overtaking your lips. "I mean—you thought it- like that?"

"I hoped." Steve whispers. He's grinning too, not yielding any of the nearness between you. His thumbs on your jaw swatch softly across your skin.

God, he'll undo you entirely. This newness, this intimacy, it's ruining you. You capture your bottom lip with your teeth and bite it meanly to try to contain your grin.

"So, like, you wanna try? For real?" You say, matching his whisper. Speaking too loud feels like it breaks the moment—and you want to savour it as long as you can.

You can't even imagine how Steve must be feeling, waiting all those years. You take your feelings and multiple them tenfold. It's dizzying. It only endears you even more.

"Like, being boyfriend girlfriend?"

Steve's eyes crinkle in happiness as he scrunches them closed for a moment. His nose scrunches a little too at the motion. He takes a deep inhale and opens his eyes.

"Dating, boyfriend girlfriend, sweethearts, I don't care what you call it." He breathes. "Yes. Yes, to all of it."

Then he kisses you again, stealing the affection off your lips with an ardour that threatens to make your knees weak.

You kiss and kiss until you and Steve are both smiling too much to properly continue.

Only a couple days ago he'd asked the same question you had asked him, except as a begged request to help his ruse. He's the only one you'd have said yes to, you know now, the only exception.

One can only wonder how the two of you would have carried on if you had said no — never gone along with his frankly ridiculous plan, never showed up on his arm to fool an event full of people, never kissed him just to piss off his brother.

Never known the true depths of affection Steve held for you.

As you crowd in closer — your lips skimming across his gently, hearing the hitch in Steve's breath before you kiss him once more— you're thankful you'll never really know.

taggin some peeps below! @illyrianbitch @headkiss @brettsgoldstein @spideystevie @djotime

@katsu28 @inthehystericalrealm @djarinova @cheugyphobe @sunshinesteviee

@sunlitide @citrinesparkles @bigfrogs

just ppl that either expressed interest in the preview or i thought would enjoy! <3 i don't know what possessed me to pick this draft up and straight up like double the word count and finish it in one day but whew,,, i enjoyed that sm

[azzandra]

Aw, man, can't believe it's been two years since I wrote that.

When I reblogged and added my little commentary, I actually hadn't anticipated my comment to be reblogged by more than a couple of mutuals or be seen outside of my followers. I was just sharing a term that popped up in my head as a joke.

If I knew this glib comment I dashed off one morning without much thought was going to breach containment and take on a life of its own, I probably would have added a few disclaimers.

Since then, I've seen some people miss the point about what I was talking about in a few huge ways, so I'll clarify now a few points:

I have nothing against the cockroach wife dude.

I don't know if that story is true or not (there are some weird people out in the world, so I won't dismiss it out of hand, but like. come on) and I sincerely do not care that his spankbank was exclusively taken up by a cockroach woman. The part of his tale that we should take as a parable is where he solely and without being forced by anyone else hinged his entire sexuality around an imaginary construct that then made him incapable of being attracted to real human women. Remember, his story starts with him complaining that he can't get it up with his human girlfriend without picturing her as a huge cockroach. He did that. Nobody forced him to develop this condition. This is a lesson for the rest of us.

people going 'I think they're both pretty!' like that's the centrist silver bullet to this phenomenon.

Listen, yeah. I agree. Both versions are meant to be attractive, just to wildly different demographics. You know who doesn't agree? The guys I'm talking about.

The dudes I am referencing do NOT think both characters are attractive to different people. They think the original is attractive to NOBODY, and everyone else in the world is just PRETENDING that the first one is attractive in any way, and they're convinced everyone else also objectively knows the original art is ugly but there's a conspiracy to subject poor defenseless heterosexual men to pictures of butt-ugly women in order to brainwash them or something.

The guys afflicted with Cockroach Wife Syndrome are on some gamerbro qanon shit where their perception of reality is slanted to a comical degree, but they think their experiences are objective and unbiased, and they're making it everyone else's problem.

people smugly going 'OP has an anime girl in their icon' like that's some sort of gotcha

Yeah, man, I'm not opposed to anime girls. I'm not even opposed to hentai, or blender porn, or masturbation. I think everyone deserves to masturbate if they want to, and the way the world is going, we all probably deserve to masturbate a lot more (porn addiction isn't a real thing, my dudes). I accept that some people are going to jerk it to stuff that I don't find attractive, and maybe consider repulsive, and that's just going to be a fact of life from here unto eternity. We all need to come to terms to that.

But the Cockroach Wife Syndrome sufferers do NOT want to accept it. They want the entire world to have only one porn preference that aligns neatly to their own, and also they want all fictional depictions of women everywhere to adhere precisely to their porn preference.

And like, why would we do what these guys say? Now, me, personally, each time I see one of their yassified sexy edits of an already pretty female character, it always looks like the tackiest shit to me, like they're a toddler who got into mommy's make-up. I want to start a GoFundMe to send them to beautician school. I don't care how much they screech about it, they cannot convince me their aesthetic tastes are something to emulate, so I coined this term for them just so I had a name for their obnoxious behavior.

All that being said, in the time since I wrote this post, I discovered it gained some traction outside of tumblr. "Cockroach Wife Syndrome" was added to Urban Dictionary. There are people slinging around the term on twitter. I personally got jumpscared by running into it in the wild on reddit, which was how I found out people are actually using it. Honestly, I am not that hyped about this being my legacy (and I am so sorry to the OP of this post that I got them stuck with seeing every reply or tag someone ever makes about the cockroach wife guy, like I'm some malevolent storytime cuckoo who dropped disturbing internet tales in their nest). But ultimately, I think this one is actually on the thousands of people who reblogged it and considered that I described a phenomenon that they also observed.

Y'all stay safe out there, and remember to vary your masturbation material once in a while.

i wish i could see this picture for the first time again

[colubrina]

OP of the “men need to do the laundry” post is a radfem, I’m afraid.

i don't do research on posters ideologies, but thanks for the info I guess. the source doesn't make it not true that men -- even leftist men who talk a good game -- have a real historical problem of picking up their share of housework or the load of child care. hell, it's almost a joke that men don't know the names of their children's teachers.

(I should note, here, that my husband always knew this stuff, and does dishes, but he also once called me in a panic because I was on the other coast dealing with my father's aging and there was a snow delay and he didn't know what to do because he'd literally never had to navigate any unscheduled kid things because I did all of it. Women pick up the bulk of this work almost all the time even if their partners are 'good liberal men'.)

It's super easy to pay lip-service to breaking gender norms ("boys can wear nail polish! girls can play baseball") and a lot harder to actually do anything that changes the housework and childcare load that women carry. So, like I said in my tag of the offending post, your leftism doesn't mean shit if you don't do the dishes

[digi-diareis]

Teen MC snapping at Caleb

Context: Yk how when you're teenagers, guys think the only way to flirt with the person they like is by teasing them? Well, imagine if Caleb had an era like this until it went too far and mc finally snapped at him.

Beware: this is gonna be SO BAD. im not a writer at all and english isn't my first language either. its just that i've had this scenario in my head for a few days now and i needed it out of my system. Also, I decided to use they/them pronouns for mc. So its more inclusive that way and also bcs even I personally don't always refer to my mc as she/her. So yeah, for the bitches, bros and non binary hoes.

Imagine this, Caleb and you bantering like usual on your way home but you're having an off day which makes it easier for you to get pissed off and fed up with all the teasing. Unfortunately, Caleb doesn't notice this and keeps teasing you until you just snap.

So mc, exasperated, scoffs at him and turns around to leave with their arms folded across their chest and eyebrows scrunched so hard they almost look like a unibrow.

"I'm done talking you. Go find someone else to pick on, Caleb. I'm not in the mood."

Sensing the sudden shift of mood, Caleb is speechless for a bit and left floundering, looking for the right words to say. He thought this was just your usual banter so why were you suddenly taking the jokes seriously? Hell, he can't let you stay in a bad mood for the entire day because that means he's getting the silent treatment and he'd rather die (well not really but he almost feels like it) than have you completely ignore his entire existence. Again.

He approaches you slowly, using a gentle voice to not alarm you the same way one would with a hissing kitten.

"Pipsqueak? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry... Tell me what it was and I promise I won't say it again. Don't be mad anymore, we don't want you to develop any more wrinkles, do we?"

And oh, the way you stiffened up, very much reminiscent of a stray cat on full alarm against anybody trying to steal its food. Caleb gulps, knowing somewhere along the lines, he triggered a tripwire and a bomb's about to blow.

"Uhm! You know what, nevermind me! How about we go buy your favorite snack? Oh, what a coincidence your favorite stall is right around the corner-"

You turn around with a glare that makes him immediately shut up, looking like you're about to rip him a new one.

"WRINKLES?! First, you make fun of my height. Calling me pipsqueak around everyone and never shutting your damn mouth about how not a day has passed where I was taller than you. Then you start being weirdly aggressive towards my other guy friends, which by the way, what the fuck? Now most of them won't even talk to me anymore! What is your problem?! And now, you're calling me OLD and UGLY?!"

"I-I never said -"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me, Caleb! You have been getting on my nerves lately! I've been trying to convince myself that this is all just friendly banter but sometimes, you go too far that I don't even know if I can still laugh it off! We used to be best friends but now, its so easy for you to make fun of me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this but oh my god, if you hate me this much then just stop hanging around me!"

Mc is heaving by the end of their entire speech, extremely worked up and upset that they're red in the face. They had been bottling this up for the past few weeks so letting it out almost felt cathartic.

Caleb is stuck in place, throat dry and mouth open but words won't come out. Was that how it's been like for you? Had he taken the jokes too far recently? Maybe it was wrong to listen to the other guys in his class who said that teens tend to fall for guys who act terrible, the bad boy stereotype is popular nowadays.

He looks down, feeling guilty and pathetic that he ended up making you feel like you hated him when you were the person who embodied everything he loved. You made him feel like flying and falling, all at the same time. So how could he hurt you like this? He had to make things right before it was too late.

"I'm sorry. Its all my fault. I shouldn't have said all those hurtful things to you, even if it was a joke or not. At the end of the day, they hurt you and that's not right. Please believe me when I say that I could never hate being around you. That couldn't be more wrong, not when all I ever want to do is be by your side. So please don't tell me to stop hanging around you, just thinking about it feels like my chest is being squeezed that it hurts. I promise I won't make the same mistakes again, so please forgive me?"

He's nervous, fiddling with his hands while he looks you in the eye. He reminds you of a wet puppy under the rain, begging you to bring him home with you. You knew the moment he pulled those puppy dog eyes that you would eventually lose, you could never say no to him. Not when you were kids and not now.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and the frown gone from your face. Now you just look tired, which only makes him more worried, maybe you're tired of him? No, that can't be. What would happen to him if you decide he's not worth keeping around anymore? He just might stop functioning all together.

You turn your back and start walking home, he feels his heart drop thinking this is it. You're leaving him behind– that is until you turn your head to the side, side eyeing him with a blush on your face.

"What're you standing there for, I thought you were going to buy me my favorite snack? Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not forgiving you just yet. Not until I've had my fill."

After that day, Caleb completely changes. Or maybe its more accurate to say he reverted back to how he used to be when you guys were kids. Doting, attentive and extremely supportive. He still banters with you from time to time but he never goes out of his way to start one. Although, there is one thing that doesn't change and that's how over protective he still is, he's still acting like a guard dog and being threatening towards all the guys in your class but at this point, you're just happy to have your best friend back again.

And just like that, Caleb's popularity spikes in your class because suddenly, every girl wants a guy who comes at their beck and call and attends to their needs. No more bad boy persona for them, they just want someone who worships the ground they walk on the same way Caleb does for you.

[softaestluv]

Breaking Bread

Simon Riley who is quite the anomaly of a man, or human, rather. Your lieutenant who has only spoken a handful of words to you.

Simon Riley who happens to be sat at the only open table in the messhall.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Sergeant! Reader

Tags: Short n’ Sweet, Fluff, Pining, Angst, Slow burn if you squint, Food as a love language, Eventual romance, Eventual smut, Military inaccuracies

Simon Riley who is quite the anomaly of a man, or human, rather. Stands at 6’4, a total of 220 pounds, takes up double the space of most people. Lieutenant of the special forces, done irredeemable acts with his bare hands. A brute. Forbidding. Curt with his words. The terrifying wraith and apparition of many— of you.

Simon Riley who is your lieutenant. Who you’ve seen complete such acts, though they were always finished within a blink of an eye. Blood splattering before you even had time to complete your blink, ordering you to follow behind before you’ve even realized what happened. Quite grateful that you were on the same side as him, any enemy of his faced far worse fate than the nerves that ate at your skin in his presence.

Simon Riley who’s only spoken a handful of words to you. To anyone, really. A man of few words. Nothing more than orders during a mission or training. Muttered gravelly. Low and demanding. Said in such a way that you had no option, but to react, obey. Though you don’t think it’s necessarily a you problem, at least you hope it’s not. He seems to be this way with everyone outside of 141, but you suppose Soap talks enough for the both of them.

Simon Riley who happens to be sat at the only open table in the messhall. Sergeant’s squished tightly onto other tables as if to avoid sitting with their menacing lieutenant. Which is how it usually is, sat alone unless Soap is by his side.

You debate smuggling the food on your tray into your pant pockets and eating in your room in solitude. Not because it would be so horrible to sit with him; you wouldn’t mind sitting in silence. He’s never been terribly rude to you— outside of his usual demeanor.

He just seems social disinterested and you know he wouldn’t necessarily want you there. Make him feel forced to speak if he doesn’t want to or make him angry for disturbing his peace. A wrath you wouldn’t want to face, you’ve seen the laps he’s made sergeants run for irritating him.

For the sake of his comfort you almost turn away, already reaching to unbutton your pants pockets, but before you can his gaze finds yours across the hall. Piercing. Tense.

Your feet move on their own accord, walking towards his table because you think ruining his comfort for a day is better than the rejection he might feel watching his sergeant stuff her pants full of bread and beans just to avoid sitting with him.

"Hi, Lieutenant," You start, pinching the inside of your cheek between words, "Is it okay if I sit with you?”

You pause for a response, but as you should have expected, nothing comes, so you begin to ramble, “I know you usually sit alone. I won’t bug you! I promise, I’ll sit quietly.”

A grunt of approval is all he gives you; a small smile smearing across your lips as you sit down opposite of him.

And true to your word you don't disturb him, don’t even look up from your plate to glance at him. The both of you just eat in silence, no words shared between the two of you. You scarf the food down quicker than Ghost does because training drains you of all your energy. Makes the military food taste like a five star meal even though it’s bland.

Finish your plate first, despite the fact that Ghost started eating before you. When you’re done you stand up, quietly mumbling your gratitude to him for sharing 'his space’ with you before disappearing in the hall.

When tomorrow comes, you walk past his empty table even though sharing lunch with him wasn’t entirely terrible. He doesn’t let you get far, a gloved hand finds your wrist, stops you in your movements. You look down at him with wide eyes.

“Ah, Lieutenant?”

He points to the empty space in front of him, “Your seat.”

Your eyes widen, impossibly so, but still, you sit.

This is an ongoing fic that I am still writing. All the other fics I have posted have been completed on ao3 before I cross posted here, so the updates for this fic won’t be as quick as my previous ones. Please bear with me! I do plan for it to be about 5 parts! Short n’ sweet!

I just wanted to share it as well. Thank you <3

Also if you’re anon who sent me a request yesterday & you happen to read this, I will be doing your prompt! I just need some time to write it :)

[torlibram]

The broth plot thickens...

I was sitting at the bar when he walked in. He was tucking his collar back up over the costume beneath, nobody gets into Joe's without a flash of the mask or cape, and his gaze flicked around the room as he strode towards the bar. I guess he didn't see any challenges to his authority because the stride took on an extra swagger for the last few steps.

"Vodka, no ice," he said flatly and Joe nodded, placing a glass before him before turning to pull the bottle down from the shelf. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he tensed up, then forced relaxation as Joe up-ended the bottle over his glass. Joe made to turn away again, but the newcomer's hand blurred as he caught Joe's wrist. "Leave it," he told Joe coldly. I saw the colour of his sleeve as he took the bottle and I knew.

"You're him," I told him, raising my glass in salute. "Razorfin."

"What's it to you?" he snarled. I raised my hands in apology.

"Whoa, no offence intended, man." None out loud, anyway, I thought. "Just that you're the guy that took Flashflood all the way out to sea."

Razorfin smirked. "Yeah. What were Team Ultra thinking, putting a water hero up against me?"

I laughed and tipped my glass to him again. "Heroes? Thinking with something other than muscles?" That drew an actual laugh. "What was it you actually did to him, anyway? All I heard was the usual scuttlebutt and that you had killed him."

He refilled his glass and held it up to the dim lighting, studying the way the alcohol clung to the sides. "Poetic justice," he said quietly. "A tank of water small enough to stop him getting any strength behind his waves, sealed to stop him pushing the water out altogether, and a grating with four dozen piranha behind it. I'd cut him a few times during the fight, naturally, then lured him into there. All those leetle, teeny fishes with leetle, teeny teeths." He chuckled malevolently. I did my best to hide a shudder.

"Who are you, anyway?" he asked. I sheepishly pulled up the old hoodie I was wearing to show the bowl with the 'S' stylised above it in wisps of steam. He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know you were still operating. Captain Crouton, isn't it?"

I winced, the local rag had dubbed me that after the big heist four years ago; I was still trying to live it down. "Might as well be," I shrugged, "my original codename got lawyered to death."

He thought for a moment. "Souperm-"

It was my turn to snarl, I tried to put as much effortless menace into as he had, but even to my ears, it rang hollow. "Don't finish that word."

"Or what?" he sneered. "You'll garnish me?"

I sneered right back at him, but again there was the difference between us: He was out-and-out violence, barely restrained by a veneer of manners. I was of an older school of villain, better suited to rough and tumble with a few cops every now and again, give them stories they could tell their kids, give their uniforms stains that would take weeks to get all the way out. Maybe I would get a hero's attention now and again, splash the papers, remind everyone that I was still around, but I wasn't exactly an A-list threat.

And that was the problem, I realised. Razorfin was, if you'll pardon the expression, a big fish in a small pond. The local squad from Team Ultra were B- and C-listers, just like me. He would go through them one after another until he drew some heavy attention. The New York squad, even. Then most of the town would get flattened in over-enthusiastic super-shenanigans and the game would be over for all of us, even the survivors. No, Razorfin had to go, and it had to be permanent. Not like those A-listers who turn out to have been a clone or a robot duplicate or whatever. My gut churned at the thought of what I was going to have to do.

I raised a finger at Joe. "His bottle's on me," I told him. "Fair play for getting Flashflood off the scene." Joe nodded.

"He was just for starters," said Razorfin.

I nodded as if in agreement. "So who's next?" He shrugged.

"Whoever gets in my way."

I stood up and reached out to my power. Maybe it was something in the set of my shoulders, maybe he was just wired and edgy, but suddenly he was in a combat stance, the coat shredding away as his fins flicked out to attack positions. I never gave him a chance to move any further, my power rolled out of me and enveloped him in a cloud that only I have ever been able to see.

He managed a single scream as he melted. Most of his body from ribs to knees was dissolving, losing structure and cascading to the floor. I kept out of arm's reach, just in case and steadied myself on the bar. I'd never killed before, but it was the only way I could see to prevent him from running amok. He managed a last word: "Why?"

"Because you don't want to play the game." I told him. "You just want to hurt people and then hurt more people and hurt them worse and so on until someone manages to stop you. Because that's what you call fun. Well, that someone is me. Because I like this town. I like the people, I like a quiet life with what remains of my ill-gotten gains from a life of crime. And you? You couldn't give a shit, could you? Which is why I did this now before anyone else gets hurt."

I took a deep breath and coughed. What? The smell rising from the pool of villain-turned-soup was unexpected. I mean, I don't get to choose the flavour, but thematically, I would have thought it would be some kind of chowder, a bisque maybe. But no, all that was left of Razorfin were his feet, shins, arms, head and a gallon of minestrone.

You pretend to be a small-time villain. At most, you annoy the local supers, but your crimes never hurt anyone. To you it's all good fun. Things change when a truly sadistic supervillain invades your turf and murders a few of the supers. No one has seen the extent of your true powers until now.

[vivimura]

breaking up with riki ─ sfw, 0.935 k wc, i suck at angst but it was heavily requested this is the best i can vomit out i'm sorry

“you know what your problem is?" riki asked softly, but the furrow between his eyebrows was enough evidence of his irritation.

"your problem is you overthink everything." he spoke, his grip on your wrist tightening to the point it began to hurt. "you know what the future holds?" he asks, his voice gentle yet serious. "absolutely fucking nothing. all we got is the present, and right now, i like you. you like me."

you scoffed in disbelief, using every bit of strength in your fibres to bite your sobs back down. 

“oh, i overthink, do i? or, have you considered the fucking possibility that you don’t think enough, nishimura?” you spat out bitterly making the frown between his eyebrows deepen. the tears welled in your eyes made your vision grow blurry, but also frustrated you for reasons more than that. you hated that it made you look weak.

“life isn’t so simple. just because we like something, doesn’t mean that we can have it. it doesn’t work that way. we’re amazing together, but it’s just- so much work. i’m exhausted.”

"you think i don't fucking think?" he almost growls, his grip on your wrist finally loosening as if he realized he was holding it too tightly. "i think all the time. about you, about us, about how fucking hard this is. do you think it's easy for me?"

"it doesn't matter if you think or not, if you're not going to do something about it!" you yanked your hand away from his grip completely when you got the chance, a stray tear finally falling from your right eye. it disappeared when you used the back of your hand to harshly wipe it away.

"love shouldn't be something that makes me feel so drained and tired emotionally. this relationship,” you gestured to the air between your bodies, “just you-, it's so much fucking work!"

"that's work i'm willing to do-”

"-and i'm not!" you finally snapped and yelled. your eyes bulged when you took in the gravity of your own words.

silence lingered in the air for what felt like an eternity, but was just a few moments. there was a bead of sweat rolling down the side of your forehead, your heart beating so fast and loud that you could hear it in your ears. the look on riki’s face was indescribable.

his eyes widen momentarily, then narrow as he processes your words. his jaw clenches, a muscle twitching visibly. in a flash, he steps closer, his voice low and intense. "well, fuck me, you've finally said it out loud, haven't you?"

your hands formed tight fists, every raging thought bubbling in your mind suddenly disappeared for some reason. it felt like your knees would give out any second now, but you stayed there, as still and silent as a beautiful, teary-eyed doll.

he stared at your tears for an age, his face expressionless. his eyes flickered between your left and right orbs, as if trying to find some truth. some explanation. deep down, he knew he was fooling himself. he already knew.

he laughed bitterly at your silence and shook his head. "unbelievable. after all this time, all these fights, you're just... done? just like that?" he bites his lip harshly to hold back his own tears. he felt a strange emptiness in his chest, a feeling he hadn't felt before. "no more willing to put in the work."

not bothering to wait for your reply, he sighed heavily and turned away, his hand reaching up to run through his hair. "just-.. go home." his voice was flat, emotionless. it was an effort to keep his breathing steady.

you let out a shaky exhale and memorised his side profile as if you were seeing it for the last time. your eyes drooped down as your head bowed in utter sorrow, the soft gray carpet on the floor of riki’s bedroom came into your view.

it was the same carpet. one which you’d once talked on for hours straight, played games you loved, play-fighted, kissed each other and sometimes even more. it was beginning to feel like those things would be nothing but a memory anymore.

you wiped your tears away, turning around to pick up your purse from his bedside table with shaky steps. riki’s heart squeezed, but he just watched you from the corner of his peripheral vision. he watched your back, your shoulders slightly hunched as if you were bracing yourself for something.

when you turned around, riki almost broke down completely when he saw the look on your face. the quiver in your lips, the bags under your eyes. the spark he once saw in your eyes when he first met you now reduced to dullness and tears. he nearly opened his mouth to stop you, but his words died down. he knew he had to let you go.

you didn't dare to look into his eyes and walked to the door of his bedroom. your fingers trembled as you reached for the handle of the door. when you pulled it down and opened the door just a little, it felt so unreal that you couldn't tell if this was a dream.

the urge to turn around and say something, or just look at him was nearly eating you alive. but you didn’t trust yourself enough to run into his arms if you saw the state of him. you had to do this, for yourself. just as you were about to leave, you whispered a small, “b-bye,”

click, shut the door, and possibly the longest, most meaningful period in riki’s life.

mlist comment, reblog & follow!

[traincat]

do you have any new spideytorch fics in current progress? of course no worries if not but i just wanted to ask. i’m absolutely obsessed with your writing and your fics!!

Thank you!

I sort of have two things I started, but haven't made a ton of progress on. I'm a little busy between work and a big bang in a different fandom, so these have been put to the side for now, but looking at them does make me want to finish them.

Fic 1 is a Just Married installment set in the future because I thought amnesia would be a fun trope to play with in the context of that universe. Basically, Peter gets whammied, forgets he ever fake-but-for-real married Johnny, and has to work out his feelings, which is horrible for him.

Peter picked up the framed photo, tilting it towards the light. He and Johnny stood at the center, splattered in -- he hoped it was paint. There was a gaggle of kids surrounding them, including two young brunet boys. One was clinging to Johnny's legs. The other was holding a water gun to Peter's head. “Our twin boys,” Johnny said, his hand pressed to his heart. “Threaderick and Weavon.” Peter nearly dropped the photo. “I’m just messing with you,” Johnny said. “That was from the day Bentley temporarily cloned himself. Which is pretty funny because he’s already a clone.” “It’s impossible to tell if any word coming out of your mouth is serious,” Peter said. “Johnny, I need you to be serious with me. Do we – do we have kids?” “No,” Johnny said, his mouth pressed into an unhappy line. He looked away from Peter. “We don’t have kids.”

Fic 2 is not even remotely presenting itself as serious. Like less so than the spider attracting body butter fic. I don't for a single second believe Peter would let Johnny's mustache from the North run go without comment.

Peter had been accused, by various people in his life, of being a variety of less than flattering things. Neurotic. Overprotective. Mildly overbearing. (“Stalkeresque,” Betty drawled from her desk, shooting him a nasty look. “Not a word, Betts,” Peter said, and kissed her on the top of her head as he dropped off her brown sugar latte. “Parker!” Jonah shouted from his office. “Do you even work here anymore?!” “Adios!” Peter said, and beat it before Jonah could call security.) (the FF come back from idk. space or whatever. I'm not pretending this canon compliant with North's run, I just want to make mustache jokes.) “I’m warning you, Bug,” Ben said. “You’re not going to like what you see.” (what he sees is the mustache. he does not like it.) -- “I don’t get what the problem is,” Harry said, waving a lofty hand in the air. “So he wants to grow a mustache. Let him grow a mustache.” “The problem is it’s hideous,” Peter said. “It’s like looking a dead, blond weasel on his upper lip.” “You liked the mustache I had back in college,” Harry said, stroking the corners of his mouth with thumb and forefinger. He shrugged. “I guess not everyone can pull it off.” Peter decided to break it to him easy. “You know I love you, right, Har?” he said. “You’re my best friend. I’ll always be there for you.” “Aw,” Harry said. Then suspicion dawned on his face. “Wait. What are you getting at?” “I hated the mustache, Harry,” Peter said. (blah blah blah) “Gwen liked the mustache, though, right?” Harry said. “Gwen said she liked it. She said it made me look like a malfeasant.” Peter didn’t bother to ask if Harry knew what that meant. “Gwen paid MJ fifty bucks to shave it off while you were sleeping.” “Huh,” Harry said. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Wow. I haven’t had the urge to get Dad’s Green Goblin gear out of storage in a long time.” “Good talk, Harry,” Peter said. -- Johnny had his waxer on speed dial and a biweekly appointment at New York’s most exclusive salon. There was no way the mustache was going to last. Peter gave it a week. A week and a half, tops. (blah blah blah) “Johnny,” Peter said, taking him by the shoulders. “Sunshine. Firefly. Light of my life.” His gaze dropped to the mustache and then back up to Johnny’s eyes. “Is this war?” “I have no idea what you mean,” Johnny said, but he reached up and twirled one end of the mustache. Sparks danced in his eyes. Peter’s jaw clenched. War it was.

I'm titling this one Mustache You a Question, obviously.

[crooked-wasteland]

You probably wanna avoid interacting with Chai btw. They’re just a toxic person who condones doxxing and harassment based on ships. Only sending this as a warning in case you weren’t aware of the things they’ve done, a lot of their fans have been bullying critics and downplaying what they’ve done and said. I literally don’t trust any of their mutuals it’s all internet brainrot

Frankly, Anon, I think you and I have fundamentally different ideas of what Toxic is. For example, I think lying about someone simply because you don't like them is toxic.

Chai has always been a vocal advocate of letting people ship whatever they want in fiction for the last 2 years I have been following his social media. It is something so consistent, in fact, that I am entirely comfortable saying that portion of your post is a blatant lie.

Second, if there are fans of Chai, their actions are their own. Once again, Chai has always been very accepting of shipping whatever anyone wants to ship so long as they don't harm real people and animals. If so-called "fans" wish to act out, that isn't Chai's problem. Unlike Medrano, Chai has told his audience to not engage in that sort of behavior. So he has done his due diligence and is not responsible for the actions of others in my opinion.

I am not a friend of Chai, I have barely talked to him in fact. I personally follow him because he does have connections and information I use to form my thoughts on Spindlehorse and Medrano's character. Not based on Chai's opinions, but on the patterns of behavior Chai has been able to bring to light by knowing those who were directly involved with Medrano.

If you genuinely believe these falsehoods and are earnestly looking out for some stranger on the internet, then rest assured I hear you and am able to say with personal certainty that the information you have is simply incorrect.

But on the off chance that I am wrong, I do request you bring me evidence instead of making baseless accusations the next time you have a concern.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Bunny I just finished watching Jumper and I'm obsessed??? 😭 I could only find like, 3 fics about David (yours included, i loved it btw ✋🏻😞) so I thought about requesting something from my favorite writer

I don't have any specific idea so I guess I'll take anything. Here's Leia the egg as an offering 🫴🏻🥚

Luv ya - 🦢

STOLEN BY A JUMPER..

PAIRING: david rice x thief!reader

You were stupid for not seeing him coming.

One second, you were standing in the middle of a private vault, fingers skillfully working over the golden lock of a case that held something very expensive—something you had been paid a lot of money to steal, to bring back to the ugly-ass man that made sure to stuff your bank account full of cash.

Well, what happened the next?

Your stomach lurched, vision suddenly blurred as you felt like you were literally floating in sleep, like you just got hit in the head, and before you could even think about screaming, you were somewhere else. With a painful sigh that echoed from your pounding head, you brought yourself to open your eyes, trying to at least adjust them to the situation, trying to use them as your source of information. Because as y/n, you weren't known for being defeated so fast.

A cabin. Remote. Quiet. Four walls. Dim lamps lighting the space. And standing in front of you, looking thoroughly unimpressed, was the man who had just ripped you from your own goddamn reality.

DAVID RICE; tall (for someone who made you see red), broad shoulders framed by that worn leather jacket, dark hair, sharp blue eyes piercing you in half like you were a problem he was debating how to solve.

“Well,” he said, voice smooth, a little mocking. “You must have some serious balls, sweetheart.”

Pulse thundered in your ears, but you tried your expression cool. Calm. You didn’t survive in this business by panicking. You had to think. It's not like you meet a freak for the first time.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” you lied.

David’s jaw only clenched more, before a flash of irritation crossed his face. “Try again,” he said, stepping closer. Too close. “You broke into my vault. My money. My shit.” gaze flickered down to the duffel still clutched in your hand. “And you were gonna walk away with it like I wouldn’t notice?”

You lifted your chin with more confidence and energy this time, fingers tightening its hold over the bag. “Finders keepers.”

How you should know it was a bad move..

David moved fast—faster than any normal man should probably be able to. One second, he was in front of you, the next he was behind you, hand fisting in your jacket before the world tilted again—

You were falling.

The cold air whipped at your skin, your eyes widening at the clouds that passed you by, at the sharp nibbling the wind did to your skin. You barely had a second to process the fact that you were free-falling through the goddamn sky before—

thud

You landed hard on a rooftop, your side slamming into the concrete. Your breath ripped from your lungs, the impact jarring, disorienting, your world twirling..

You're about to throw up. You're about to throw up.

With a wince of a person who's about to lose her life, you moved your hand to where your ribs were, trying to magically smooth the painful, sharpening like a needle, pain.

And David?

He landed like nothing had happened at all.

After taking some steps towards you, he crouched, gaze sharp, smug amusement curling his lips as if your situation was even.. satisfying for him.

“That,” he said, gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up to his, “was a warning.”

Your heart hammered, pulse wild, but you refused to let him see your fear. To let him see how weak you started to get. By one freaking movement of his..right..what was even that? His mind? His hands? His..how did he do that?

“So you’re a show-off,” you bit out, wrenching away from his hold. Too weakly. Too painfully. “Congratulations.”

David chuckled. Actually chuckled. “Oh, you’re fun.”

You lunged for him, intending to—what? Punch him? Tackle him? You weren’t exactly sure but everything seemed to be reasonable when you had to take care of a real piece of shit

But before you could even touch him—

The world shifted again.

You were back in the cabin.

Your knees buckled, body reeling from the constant shifts, ribs screaming at you, making you dizzy, making you choke on your own breath, but David? David just stuffed his hands into his pockets and grinned at you.

“Go ahead,” he said, watching as you steadied yourself against the wall. “Try to run.”

You glared at him, fists clenched. “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?”

He laughed, moving towards the fridge like this was just another normal night for him. Like kidnapping you was just another thing on his to-do list for today.

Great. Just freaking great.

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing a beer. “I’ve been told.”

You watched him, mind racing, calculating, pain still flickering through your body, making sure you never forget about it. How the hell were you supposed to escape someone who could teleport?

You had no idea. But you’d be damned if you didn’t find out soon.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden

[wlwsoccerfics]

The ACL Chaos Continues(KerstinCasparijXRuthBrownXJillRoordXCasparijReader)

A/N: this Is Part two of 'The ACL Chaos Roommates' so read the first Part before this one.

Warnings: mental health issues, ACL injury, angsty

Summary: your healing Journey continues and so does the chaos.

Jill was off the crutches. So were you. It has been two months since surgery. But you still needed a cane sometimes to get around. And your pain was still a 6 sometimes even a 7 out of 10. But you kept pushing yourself even though you knew this was probably only gonna make things worse. Your fiancee, your twin and Ruth sure saw you struggling and they became quite worried with how you were handling things.

You were standing on the back porch, trying to walk without the cane while trying to get your leg to stay straight and it just wasn't working how you wanted it to work so you became more and more frustrated. Kerstin saw you from inside and walked out.

"y/n! Stop! What are you doing?! You are clearly exhausted! And overworking yourself doesn't gonna make this better!" Your twin sister told you. Her tone was a mix of worry and anger.

You looked at her before you started yelling and crying. Hugging her.

"i hate this! I know i said i would be patient but Physio said he isn't sure i will get back to my old self! What If i can't Play anymore?!" You cried into her shoulder while she wrapped her arms around you. Holding you close.

"it will be okay! Whatever happens you are smart, you will figure something out! And you are not alone, ever!" Your twin told you. You didn't see her face but you could hear in her voice that she was close to crying.

Unknown to both you and Kerstin, Jill & Ruth were watching you from the inside. Eyes filled with concern.

"this looks serious." Jill whispered out.

"i agree. whatever it is, we all have eachother! And we will support y/n! I just hope that Kerstin managed to get through to her. Because honestly your fiancee is not doing herself any favors like that! She is overworking herself constantly!" Ruth said.

"i noticed that as well, whenever i try to talk to her about it she keeps telling me how fine she is and that i imagine things!" Jill admitted.

Back to you and Kerstin...

"Luister alsjeblieft naar wat de dokter zei." (please listen to what the doctor said) Your sister spoke up.

"Ik probeer het. Maar dit is mijn leven." ( i am trying. but this is my life. ) You explained why it wasn't so easy to let things go and give them time. You were afraid your career might be over.

"Jezelf nog meer pijn doen, maakt het niet beter!" ( hurting yourself even more won't make things better! ) Kerstin answered.

You two talked for a little bit longer before walking inside. Both Jill & Ruth staring at you.

"Wat is er, lieverd?" ( what's wrong, darling? ) Jill asked.

"zag je mij een inzinking hebben?" ( you saw me having a breakdown? ) You asked your wife.

"we both did!" She told you and was referring to Ruth as well. You sighed softly taking a step towards hery grabbing her hand gently.

"let's sit down! I can't stand for that long without a cane." You admitted.

"which is Part of the Problem. Right?" Ruth asked. You nodded your head. All of you sat down on the Couch.

"Physio says he isn't sure i will be able to play like i used to before this injury. I am afraid my career might be over." You admitted, tears streaming down your face again. Ruth and Jill both felt like someone was punching the Air out of their lungs. They didn't expect this information to leave your mouth.

"liefje, it's still early on. Give it time! Even if you can't Play as strong as you do now, it doesn't mean you fully have to stop playing. Let's Focus on the healing process now. And worry later. I know things aren't going great for you but if they don't tell you that you can't Play anymore let's not go to career ending right now. Might take you longer to get back on the pitch, but you will get there!" Jill told you. Wrapping her arms around you. you cuddled into her side. It was clear to you, Ruth and Kerstin that the speech was not only for you but really to make sense of this for herself and well and build everyone back up.

"Jill is right, be patient with yourself! Be kind to yourself! You will get back onto the pitch. Even if you can just give 50% of how you played before this injury you still are world class! You are one of the best Players in the world, y/n! So don't give up on yourself! Cause the three of us sure won't ever give up on you!" Kerstin replied.

"we are here to support your healing Journey!" Ruth let you know. Offering you a kind smile. You thanked the three of them. Trying to stay focused on the good things. You knew they were right. You had to be more kind to yourself. And see what was about to come your way. Give yourself time. The Pitch will be there when you are ready.

You look at your fiancee ,a few minutes later you spoke up.

"i am thankful your journey is going better then mine Babe. I genuinely mean that. i hope you are right with what you say about my Journey but If you aren't...i know we talked about kids in the future...and i would be willing to carry one for us." You stated.

"that's sweet Babe! But let's wait okay? Focus on healing. You will get there!" Jill said.

Turned out that you indeed just needed more time but five months later you managed to do some running without pain, working on other skills as well. It was 7 months after you got hurt now. You weren't on the end of your healing journey but you were doing so great now and everyone was proud of you. Jill was doing even better , you were proud of her.

The two of you moved back into your place 3 months ago. Planning your Wedding, which was gonna be in exactly a year from now on. You had pushed it back cause of your Injury.

Even though your journey was difficult you appreciated everyone that was there for you and you liked being there for their journeys whatever those might be. You wanted to help people and not just receive help.

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

Stretched (Part 1)

aka a filthy rolan x cleric postgame concept that I might write one day but in the meantime desperately want to get out of my brain and onto the page. EDIT: HAHAHAHA never mind, I wrote it. fuck me. Here you are, 1324 words and only part one!

ft fingering, “do assholes really work like that? we ignore it for kink reasons” and the BG3 equivalent of medical kink. Mild dubcon for "Rolan's having a great time but a healer shouldn't be enjoying fingering your asshole this much"

Rolan’s settled into the Tower; theoretically he has everything he wants. Apart from Tav, that is; he nursed a sore crush on them for a long time— ever since they saved his siblings— and has only just come to accept that they’re never coming back from Waterdeep. (… Several months after their wedding to Gale). Tav’s presence, however, awoke a very long-neglected (and repressed) part of him, and now though he thinks less often of them when he handles himself… he still handles himself often. Could it be the Archmage still needs something in his life beyond the Tower and his siblings?

He finds it, with some shame, behind the counter at Sharess's Caress. In disguise, of course; he doesn't want the city to know he's buying toys... especially not toys of this size. Rolan doesn't start with the largest ones, but as his hopes of Tav grow fainter, he finds himself seeking more and more challenge, more punishment for his aching, gaping hole. He loves to imagine them stretching him, taunting him for pining over them - claiming him as their own. And now that's receding, he still finds himself addicted to the sensation, barely able to come unless he's struggling on a cock far thicker than his own.

The figure that the cleric sees, coming through her door, is stiff with embarrassment, a violently crimson flush revealed on his cheeks as he casts off his Dragonborn disguise to show the tiefling underneath. Not just any tiefling.

‘Archmage,’ she says in recognition, keeping the note of amusement she feels hidden. She’s a professional, after all… although whatever ailment he has come to her with must be rather delicate, especially when his title makes him flush further and insist on being called by his name only. After a fair amount of evasion, and the confirmation that she is as discreet as every one of her previous clients has said, she at last pries out his problem: he fears he has stretched himself.

‘Using what implements? What are the symptoms?’

‘What other symptoms do you need?’ he hisses, before catching himself. ‘I know how it is supposed to feel.’

‘Is this immediately after use of toys, or…?’

‘I am not an idiot— I know to expect it after—but this feeling persists near-constantly.’ His voice drops, and she sees the true mortification and worry behind his bluster. It’s… more than professionally interesting. Poor man. She will make his embarrassment worthwhile.

‘Remove your trousers, and get on the bench. I need to examine the situation.'

He casts an anxious look at the door before he disrobes, and she asks if he'd like it locked; his shoulders drop a little when it is.

'Have you cleaned up, or should I—'

Rolan conjures a Prestidigitation faster than she can finish the sentence.

'Do not misunderstand,' he disclaims. 'I came prepared— I am merely being cautious—'

She can hear the irritable sound of him swallowing his nerves, and pats his bare ass gently. There's a slight hitch in Rolan's breath.

'Don't worry about it. Now.' She takes the base of his tail in his hand, and he draws another sharp intake of breath. If she had to label his affliction as anything, she would be inclined to say it was starvation. He is so hungry for her touch, that the slightest movement makes him shiver... and between his legs, his cock is beginning to stiffen.

Rolan clenches his thighs as she moves his robe out of the way, drawing his tail up so she can get a good look at his hole.

'Are you wearing this every day?' she asks, tapping the plug in his entrance.

It is rather basic, compared to the rest of him. His hair is beautifully twisted, and his elegant silk robes are drenched in expensive silverwork. But the plug is plain; not a jewel or crest in sight. Perhaps he is too ashamed of this hobby to let himself truly indulge in it. (A shame in itself, when the plug sits so prettily between his lovely, pert cheeks).

'Yes,' he admits.

'Mmm.'

'I have to!' he protests irritably. 'Otherwise, I can think of nothing else but the sensation of it. Being open—'

'I understand,' she says soothingly. 'I'll have to remove it for now.'

'Of course,' Rolan whispers, tensing his thighs even harder.

She puts a hand on one. 'Relax. Otherwise this will be more difficult.'

He lets out a choked whimper— but he does as he's told, and he keeps relaxing, with the utmost effort, until the plug is drawn from his hole.

There's no denying he's hard now. The cleric oils her fingers, presses one easily inside to begin the examination.

'One easy,' she murmurs, pushing it further up until she finds his pleasure spot. It feels healthy; in fine working order, if Rolan's gasp is anything to go by. She curls her finger a little more.

'Fuck!' Rolan whimpers. 'I mean— Zurgan— excuse me.'

‘Don’t worry about it. Just stay relaxed. I’m going to see how easily you accommodate wider objects.’

She presses another finger in, appreciating the heat inside him. Tieflings always run hotter than other humanoids. The lack of hair is very pleasing too— perfect for someone as neat and ordered as Rolan clearly is. The oil slicked on her fingers spills down his taint; she pauses for a moment, and takes a washcloth to wipe him clean.

Rolan’s asshole might be a little stretched, but she still feels it tense urgently around her. He lets out a short whimper, stifling it unsuccessfully with a cough.

‘Keep your tail up,’ she murmurs, as if she hasn’t noticed.

‘Yes— ’

Three fingers. Rolan shakes. She didn’t encounter much resistance, but clearly the act of being probed is rather stimulating for him, stretch or not.

‘Let me see.’ She gathers all four fingers, pressing them against his entrance— now, there is a little resistance— and checks to see how Rolan is taking it.

The moment he realises she’s looking at him, his cock twitches, and he panics, pulling away from her examining fingers.

‘Surely that’s enough,’ he gasps, dragging at the tails of his robe to hide his cock.

‘I need to determine the extent of the problem, if you want me to treat it properly.’

His tail flicks as he looks back at her. ‘Wretched Hells. Just how much are you going to put up there?’

The attempt at nonchalance comes out thin, breathy instead of confident. She can’t help but find him a little fascinating; easily embarrassed and yet pretending to be bold. And all over something so mild; she has treated people with far stranger ailments. Once again, she wonders if he perhaps only needs somebody else to make him feel that this is alright. Not that it matters at the present.

‘I’m going to find your limit,’ she says. ‘When it hurts, say now.’

Rolan pauses, and cedes, raising his tail once more to reveal his worked hole. His claws curl anxiously into the bench leather. ‘I am ready— ah— ah— ah— now!’

All four fingers and thumb, but not even close to the knuckle. Whatever monstrous girths he thinks he’s been stretching himself with, she is sure he could take quite a lot more— with practise and encouragement of course.

‘That’s the examination finished then,’ she tells him. ‘Let me clean you up.’

Again, she presses a gentle cloth to his skin— all the way down to his balls this time. He shivers, whimpering at her touch and not even trying to hide it this time. Too far gone, perhaps.

She notices a drip from his cock beneath him on the bench, and cleans that up too. Not the cock that it came from, though; that is his concern, even if he seems to anticipate it when she reaches beneath him.

‘Now,’ she murmurs, washing her hands off. ‘I’ll just consult my notes, and make you up a treatment salve.’

‘It is curable?’ Rolan asks.

‘Oh, certainly. I’ll explain what you have to do.’

[bright-hope-spot-19]

I agree that Tenten got shafted, and she deserved better, but I don't think she really could've beaten Kankuro in the finals. After all, if we suppose she was given a chance to fight anyone else, other than Temari in the pre-lims and won, then that would already be giving Kankuro enough information about her fighting style, and how she battles. So, in the finals, he'd know to simply stay away from the range of her weapons and hide in a dark corner where she wouldn't be able to see him. After all, the stadium where the final stage took place was huge, giving Kankuro plenty of space to hide in a far away corner and manipulate his puppet from afar. His chakra strings can be made as long as he needs them to be if he needs to hide, and he can also make them practically invisible to the naked eye. In addition to that, he can use a transformation technique on his puppet to turn Crow into himself to distract her and catch her off-guard. Like, at first, he enters the arena, unveils his Crow, and throws a smoke bomb to blind her. While she can't see, turn Crow into himself while he hides somewhere she won't see. Then turn it into Crow again and into himself once more. Do you have any idea how confused she'd be? Seeing Crow changing from its original form to Kankuro to being Crow again, all while throwing smoke bombs at her to lower her accuracy. Once she's ran out of things to throw at him with her scrolls, he can either poison her and stall or catch her in Crow's arms and squeeze until she either gives up or loses consciousness the same way he did with the dude he fought in the pre-lims.

The problem is that as a Konoha genin, at that point in the story, Tenten would obviously not know anything about puppetry, how puppets work, how to fight them, or what tricks to predict, while her attacks are way easier to predict and plan around, after having seen her fight only once. Kankuro is also ridiculously good at hiding. As a puppet user, stealth and hiding his presence are two of his strongest stats, so if he wants to hide and not be seen, then she won't see him. Tenten has crazy accuracy and always hits her target. But in order to hit her target, she needs to be able to see it first. She doesn't have super eyes like Neji to be able to locate him if he decides to hide in a dark corner of the stadium battlefield. With him also very probably playing mind tricks on her, by constantly switching between Crow's forms (puppet form and turning it into himself to confuse her) and very likely poisoning her, (as long as it's a non-lethal poison) it's just a matter of minutes before her scrolls run empty and she has to give up. After all, if there's only one moving target on the field that she can see (the puppet), she's gonna aim at it, even if it's not really the target she wants to really hit. Also, even if she manages to land a lethal hit on Crow, disabling it, the puppet's body parts can still be launched and used individually for sneaky attacks. It'd even be very hard for her to pinpoint the puppets' weak points that would disable it and stop it from moving completely. Kankuro's puppets have hard outer shells/structures that aren't easily destroyed with simple attacks. She'd need to either hit all of the limbs precisely in a way they completely stop moving or get rid of the head part. Which I imagine would be very hard with the puppet constantly moving, switching between forms, throwing smoke and gas bombs in her face, and Kankuro hiding where she won't be able to hit him. Who's to say he has to use poison? He could use some kind of tranquilizer or something to slow her down and lower her efficiency.

That's the weak point: Kankuro has waaaay too many tricks he could pull out with his puppet, that'd be very hard to predict for genin Tenten, as someone who's never seen a battle puppet before. Whereas her fighting style is way easier to plan against: just stall until she runs out of her scrolls and stay away from her reach; and as I've said Kankuro is the king of hiding and stalling. If Tenten can't land a vital, critical hit within the first minutes of the fight, then she's already lost, especially if Kankuro decides to gas her with God knows what dangerous chemicals.

In case they'd fought in the prelims, I still believe he could pull it off. The pre-lims stadium was smaller, offering him fewer places to hide, but it was still reasonably big, to where it could offer him a few safe, hiding spots away from her. Also, from what I remember, Tenten still needed to do hand signs to activate her scrolls. He could send his puppet after her, when she's jumping into the air to perform her jutsu, and trap her before she finishes her hand signs. By either catching her in Crow's arms or blinding her with smoke or poison.

After all, that's the beauty of puppetry: Kankuro can potentially install whatever th he wants into his puppets. He could equip them with wind turbines to generate enough wind currents to keep her at bay. He could install two flamethrowers into Karasu to burn her scrolls. Heck, he could even turn the puppet into a bomb. Attach some explosive seals to it, and at one point, turn his puppet into an injured version of himself. Get her to lower her defenses, and the moment Crow-as-Kankuro is close enough, fucking explode in her face. With only her scrolls of weapons,there's no way Tenten can plan for and predict all of those tricks. In fact, I think the only Leaf genin who could realistically plan for a puppet; a weapon he's never seen before, is Shikamaru, and we all know why. I can realistically only see Tenten defeating Kankuro postwar with the bashosen, the sacred fan she got. I believe that thing is as strong, if not stronger than Temari's tessen, so yeah.

I like the Temari vs. Tenten fight. It might be really short (esp in the manga lol) but I think it's for a good reason! Temaris powerset isn't as involved as most of the others, and it's a character moment showcasing her brutality and skill more then anything else; such a short fight is jarring, and shows that she understands the political Angle of what they're doing better then most other (younger, probably don't remember the war) contestants. And also punctuates her own mercilessness, since between her siblings she's been placed in the 'exasperated/placating big sister' role- she is NOT a better or kinder person then her brothers, just Hella good at reading the room and forged in the fire of 'born during a war and spends her days placating what is both her brother and also The Devil from The Bible'.

It's a strong, punchy character moment for her just as much as kankuro's fight showcases his unexpected (as he's mostly been like. A meathead that bullies children and picks fights he can't win- no shade, temari was a Girl Character in the most Naruto of ways up till now) predictive and strategic thinking, setting him up as quite clever and thorough in his contingencies. Both fights subvert the shallow characters they previously portrayed, making it all the better for the audience when the invasion is revealed, because all three siblings have proved themselves ruthless and powerful, and 2 of the 3 have already deceived the AUDIENCE, so it makes sense they'd be trusted with a mission like this (gaara is a bad liar but he'd have to talk to someone without killing them to ruin anything, and it's more then reasonable to assume that won't happen).

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 12

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8 | Ep9 | Ep10 | Ep11)

Oof, so this took me forever to write. A week and a half. But now it's finally here, the final post of this meta series. And yes, I did hit 20k words by the finale, oops. The analysis part alone is at 20.1k words. In total, this meta series is at 150k words. When I wrote that very first post about episodes 1+2 in on single sitting, pulling an all-nighter to both write, gif, and publish it I never expected it to turn into this huge project that has become. Don't ask how much sleep I was getting while I was writing these metas. And don't ask how my studies have been going since early December (I was gonna write two exams a week from me publishing this but I haven't done any studying so far whatsoever rip). Totally worth it, though. Anyway, I don't wanna keep you on your toes any longer, so have fun <3

By the way, I apologize in advance, but the section cover pics had to go for this one. Instead I bring you.... more gifs! Yay!

Acknowledgments: To everyone who regularly liked and/or reblogged and/or commented... THANK YOU 😘 Your encouragement really kept me going over these past few weeks, even when my brain was feeling really exhausted from thinking so long and so hard about this series and especially this character. I had a blast going on this journey and I'm glad I got to share it with you. Thank you for coming on this journey with me. I love you.

Pronoun situation: As usual, just assume Fadel and Style use the rude pronouns guu/mueng with each other unless I specify otherwise. And I WILL be specifying otherwise this time hehe.

To recap: Last episode Style got to spend a lovely 24 hours of saying goodbye to Fadel before the one thing that Style has been dreading the most (safe for Fadel's death, probably) happened: Fadel got arrested. And there's nothing Style could do about it but watch. And now he has to live with the fact that his boyfriend will be in prison for the next five long years.

No. 1: Visitors

Kant and Style go visit their boys in prison together and it seems to be their first visit in general, considering how both couples are catching up. We don't know how long it's been since they last saw each other, but I assume it must have been more than just a couple of days, since we later learn that the burger restaurant has already been sold.

Either way, Style is now sitting in front of Fadel, asking him how prison is. Fadel says it's not that bad and Style checks in once more to make sure Fadel is really fine: "Really? You sure you're not saying that just to make me happy? I've seen some interviews, and the people who have been here said it was awful."

After all, Style knows Fadel and he knows Fadel is prone to pretending that everything is fine when really, it isn't. Style even called Fadel out on it in episode 7: "Just admit when it hurts. You don't have to be tough all the time." Back then Style also told Fadel: "I'm worried about you, you know? I was afraid something would happen to you.*"

*กลัวมึงเป็นไรไปอ่ะ [gluua - mueng - bpen rai - bpai - àh] afraid - you - have a problem - [particle] Official subs: I thought you were a goner.

Now, about half a series later Fadel is finally very well aware of just how much Style worries about his well-being and, with a laugh, reassures him once more that prison really isn't that bad. Style lets it go and tells Fadel: "I really miss you, though." And let me just share what I learned when I asked my Thai friend about the phrase ก็...อยู่ดี [gôh ... yùu dii], because I wasn't entirely sure what it meant: according to my friend it means "still" (German speakers: he translated it as "immer noch"), so the line goes more like:

But I still miss you. แต่กูก็คิดถึงมึงอยู่ดีนะ [dtàe - guu - gôh - kít-tĕung - mueng - yùu dii - ná] but - I - miss - you - still - [na]

They've been separated for a while now, but Style still misses Fadel. Style hasn't stopped missing Fadel. Fadel acknowledges that and tells him "When you do, just come visit." And for those curious about the literal wording (it doesn't really change anything, but I know you guys love this <3):

If you miss me, then come visit me like this. ถ้ามึงคิดถึงกูอ่ะ ก็มาหากูแบบนี้นะ [tâa - mueng - kít-tĕung - guu - àh • gôh - maa hăa - guu - bàep níi - ná] if - you - miss - me - [particle] • then - come visit - me - like this - [particle]

Style doesn't say anything. He just smiles at Fadel fondly and in love. Fadel didn't preemptively break up with him last episode and even though there is a barrier between them, Style can still go see Fadel and Fadel also wants Style to come see him. It's not ideal, but things could have been much worse, so Style is happy and also makes the best out of the situation. Just like he always does.

Fadel then asks about the garage and it's the first time we learn that Style's dad is starting to retire and that Style is starting to be busy. This will come up later in the episode again, but for now everyone is still happy. Then Fadel asks about his burger restaurant and both we, the audience, and Fadel learn that it's been sold. Fadel then says he'll find a way to buy it back once he's out of prison and once again we're handed information that will be relevant later in the episode.

Style being Style immediately announces that he'll be helping Fadel find a new place, if he can't get back the old one. And now it's Fadel's turn to smile at Style fondly and in love. Style then asks if Fadel wants anything special. But Fadel doesn't need anything. "Just seeing your face will last me a whole month." And again, the literal wording doesn't really change anything here, but if you're curious, this is what he's saying:

Just you visiting me like this makes me happy for a month. แค่มึงมาหากูแบบเนี่ย กูก็อิ่มใจเป็นเดือนละ [kâe - mueng - maa hăa - guu - bàep nîia • guu - gôh - ìm-jai - bpen deuuan - lá] just - you - come visit - me - like this • I - [sentence link] - happy, pleased - for a month - [particle]

Fadel uses the word อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai] here (which I translated as "happy") and that's funny to me personally, because this word already came up when I was discussing a different sentence from episode 11 with my Thai friend. You know when Fadel and Style are in the kitchen in episode 11 and Fadel talks about how he wants to do what he loves with the person he loves? And then he says "It makes me happy". The word that was translated as "happy" in Thai is อิ่ม [ìm], which actually translates to "full". And I had my friend watch the scene and asked "What does he mean 'full', what does that mean in this context??" and my friend explained that in this context it means "happy" and mentioned the word อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai], which he also explained to mean "happy". The literal translation, though, is actually "full heart" (as in the heart is full → you're happy). And then this exact word that I learned comes up in episode 12, I love it. So yeah, Fadel is basically telling Style that he doesn't need anything, because Style visiting him in prison is enough to make is heart full/fill up his heart for a month. And from the way Fadel raises his eyebrows and smiles cheekily when he says the อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai] part, I assume it's just as cheesy in Thai as it is in English, especially judging by Style's reaction afterwards.

Style is amused, impressed, as well as touched by Fadel's cheesiness and asks: "What did they feed you in there? How come you're this sweet?*"

*ทำไมถึงหวานขนาดเนี้ย [tam-mai tĕung - wăan - kà-nàat níia] how come, why - sweet - to this extent Official subs: You're way too sweet.

If you read last episode's meta you might remember how I went over the development to from โหด [hòht] (= harsh, aggressive, brutal) to หวาน [wăan] (= sweet) and I just love how this time around, the word โหด [hòht] doesn't even get mentioned anymore. They went from Style using only the word โหด [hòht] in episode 4 ("No matter how harsh you are, I'm still hooked on you." / Official subs: "It doesn't matter how scary you are, I'm still hooked."), to them making comments about and discussing Fadel being both harsh (โหด [hòht]) and sweet (หวาน [wăan]) in episodes 7, 9, and 11, and now in the finale Style only uses the word หวาน [wăan] (= sweet). It's the polar opposite of episode 4. I love it.

(By the way, I'm not gonna copy and paste all the direct quotes again, so if you wanna look at the lines and the development of "harsh vs sweet" in detail, please refer to section 7 of my ep11 meta.)

Style continues to say "If you say such sweet things, it'll only make me want to hold you and kiss you even more, you know?" and I'm just gonna share the literal wording again:

The sweeter like this you are ยิ่งมึงหวานแบบเนี่ย [yîng - mueng - wăan - bàep nîia] the more - you - sweet - like this the more I really want to embrace you and (sniff) kiss you on the cheek, you know that? กูยิ่งอยากกอดอยากหอมมึงมากเลยรู้ป่ะ [guu - yîng - yàak - gòht - yàak - hŏhm - mueng - mâak loiie - rúu - bpà] I - the more - want - hug, embrace - want - (sniff) kiss - you - very much - know - ?

In the official subtitles Style says just "kiss you", but the word he uses here in Thai is หอม [hŏhm] which, from what I've picked up so far, usually refers specifically to a kiss on the cheek, especially those sniff-kisses. And that's what prompts Fadel to turn his head and offer his cheek to Style — because Style specifically asked to kiss Fadel's cheek.

Also, something about the way Style says this and the way he emphasizes and drags out the word หอม [hŏhm] kind of really reminds me of the way he emphasized and dragged out the word หวาน [wăan] (= sweet) when he shouted "My meat is sweet, I tell you!" in episode 3, and watching these two lines back-to-back actually shows the development so beautifully:

In episode 3, Style is so very loud and he doesn't mean what he is saying at all, he isn't taking his words seriously whatsoever. His words are a performance and the world (or rather the market, in this case) is his audience. In episode 11, his words are still a performance, but now it's a private show for Fadel and Fadel alone. Fadel is the sole member of his audience and what Style is saying isn't meant for anyone else but Fadel. Style is serious about it now and he really means it. By the episode 12, Style is still loud in his personality, but compared to episode 3 his demeanor is so much calmer and he is also much more grounded.

The difference is also in Fadel's reaction: in episode 3 when Style isn't taking what he's saying and doing seriously whatsoever, Fadel doesn't have time for him. He rolls his eyes and just leaves him standing there. In episode 12, when Style means every single thing he says and does, Fadel actually leans closer and then presents his cheek to Style, going along with Style's antics instead of blocking or ditching him. Style blows a cheek at Fadel and we leave them as they continue to make heart-eyes at each other.

No. 2: This Is Torture

Style puts on his cheerful face when he's in front of Fadel, and while I don't think any of the above was a mask, because I think he is definitely genuinely happy to talk to Fadel, there is still some frustration that Style only lets out as soon as he's away from Fadel, similar to how he didn't fully cry until Fadel was completely gone at the end of last episode. "Kant, I can't do this," Style complains and let me just share the real vibe of his sentence:

Ai'Kant, I can't fucking do this anymore. ไอ้กานต์ กูแม่งไม่ไหวแล้วว่ะ [âi Kant • guu - mâeng - mâi - wăi - láew - wâ] Ai'Kant • I - [rude interjection] - not - able to, can - anymore - [rude particle]

I usually don't bother to point out sanitized subtitles, but here I thought it was appropriate, because first of all, Style using curse words and rude language really underlines just how frustrated he really is about this from his first line of the scene on and second of all, to me with the cursing it comes across as even more dramatic and I mean, the drama is what we've all come to love about Style, isn't it? Kant agrees and once again Style is much more dramatic in the original wording than he is in the official translation:

What's torturous is going in and being able to chat only for a few minutes. ที่มันทรมานอ่ะ คือเข้าไปคุยได้ไม่กี่นาทีไง [tîi - man - tor-rá-maan - àh • keu - kâo bpai - kui - dâai - mâi gìi -naa-tii - ngai] that - it - torture, be tortured - [particle] • is - enter, get in - talk, chat - be able to, can - not many - minute(s) - [particle] Official subs: The worst part is only getting a few minutes to talk to him.

Yeah. Style explicitly calls it torture that he can only see Fadel's face but can't touch him. He continues with the drama:

We're close, but so damn far away. ใกล้แต่ไกลฉิบหายเลยมึง [glâi - dtàe - glai - chìp-hăai - loiie - mueng] close - but - far - [impolite intensifier] - [particle for emphasis] - you Official subs: We’re so close but it feels so far.

Style is frustrated, almost downright angry even. Kant agrees again and when Style then asks "Is there no way we could hold them in our arms again?" There's a hint of desperation and impatience now mixed in with the frustration. Kant informs Style that there's a special visiting day, but it's only once a year. And here we have the biggest clue as to just how unhappy Style really is with the situation. Style, who usually stays optimistic and tries to find the bright side in things, is very dissatisfied about those news. Even positive Style can't see how the special visiting day is a good thing. Because once a year just really isn't enough, no matter how he looks at it. Kant throws him a glance. Style is sitting in the passenger's seat, head downcast, looking very dispirited and crestfallen.

Kant thinks some thoughts for a moment. Then he announces "I think I have an idea that will give us more than just a hug." Style lifts his head again. He's listening.

No. 3: Prison Break

For Kant's idea to work they need Captain Christ's help and they go meet him in a parking lot. They let Captain Christ know they wanna get into jail to see their boyfriends and Captain Christ actually asks the reasonable question of "Can't you just visit them?" No. They cannot. Because looking at them through a barrier is simply just not enough. Style starts listing all the things he wants to do to Fadel and he's clearly thought about this a lot. He gets lost in his own world a little the longer he goes on, clearly seeing everything he's describing in front of his mental eye, clearly seeing Fadel himself in front of his mental eye. And in a parallel to both episode 4 and episode 11, Style trails off at the end, leaving it up to the audience to imagine just what exact kind of things Style wants to do to/with Fadel (fanfiction, anyone?). Style pulls himself out of his fantasy and back into the real world, sighing and shaking his head in a way that reads to me like frustration about the fact that he can't be doing all of that. Kind of like Come on, man, get it together... The circumstances won't let you have your fantasies anyway. When the shot changes to Captain Christ, we can see that Style is even looking towards the ground. We can't see his face, but just from his dissatisfied expression just now we could interpret his hanging head as disappointment or sadness or both about not being able to do all the things he just talked about.

Captain Christ says that Style is crazy in love and from the way that Captain raises his eyebrows and the way the corners of his mouth twitch into a bit of a smirk when he's done speaking has me think Captain Christ was saying it to tease Style, but I think the teasing passes right by Style, because he makes a skeptical face, kind of like a bit of an annoyed and maybe slightly defensive What?? or maybe even a bit of an And what's wrong with that?

Captain Christ discards his cigarette and starts asking questions about just how exactly Kant and Style plan to get into prison, pointing out that he had just helped Kant wipe his slate clean. Kant explains that they aren't planning on getting themselves arrested and asks if Captain Christ knows anyone inside. Captain Christ says he does, then asks: "Don't tell me you want me to help you reenact Prison Break?"

Special shout-out to Style's reaction, because it's definitely in my top 5 moments of the episode, if not my absolute favorite highlight of the episode:

His face makes me laugh and giggle so much, it just really cracks me up. It's like he's thinking to himself Oh I sure wouldn't mind a little prison break... or maybe even Oh this is totally not the exact thing I've been fantasizing about. Let's be real, this would be Style's ideal scenario. But unlucky for Style, that's not the plan that Kant has had in mind.

No. 4: Vocational Training

Kant's idea was to go do some kind of volunteer work (or something along those lines) at the prison. Style, of course, teaches fixing cars, and it's interesting that Fadel actually shows up for that, because without knowing Style was gonna be the one teaching, Fadel could have easily chosen a different activity instead, since we never actually saw him be interested in fixing cars. Maybe Fadel heard about it and it made him think of Style and decided to go check it out in honor of him or to feel closer to him. Either way, Fadel actually shows up to Style's class and from the way Style's jaw drops a little bit I wonder, if this comes as a surprise to Style, since it's not like Style specifically told Fadel he was gonna come in.

Pronoun change! You might have noticed yourself, but the very first thing Style says to Fadel is khun. Style is pretending not to know Fadel. Style continues to speak using no pronouns at all and when Fadel answers, he goes along with Style's pronoun change, using phom to refer to himself. The two of them continue to use the polite phom/khun for the rest of this specific conversation.

Fadel says he doesn't know anything about fixing cars and Style replies it's fine, because Fadel can learn about it. Then he says "If you want to, that is." The expression that Style uses here in Thai is มีใจ [mii jai] which is made up of มี [mii] = "to have" and ใจ [jai] = "heart, mind", so literally it translates to "have (a/the) heart". My friend explained that in this context this phrase means "to have the intention to do something". The funny thing is, though, that I asked my friend about this specific phrase a couple of episodes ago, because Style actually uses it when they're standing by the broken down car in episode 8 when he teases Fadel "Either a hitman like you still have his humanity, or you’re in love with me." In other words, the phrase มีใจ [mii jai] can also mean "to be in love" and now I'm wondering if this specific word choice with this double meaning was very intentional for this episode 12 scene. Especially because Fadel then huffs and smiles a little.

Style walks up to Fadel and tells him "I'll show you every nook and cranny of a car. You'll definitely find some use for what you learn from me. But if you still can't fix cars after that, I'll fix them for you," still using polite pronouns and particles to address Fadel, and somehow this whole thing just really reminds me of their little roleplay at the garage back in episode 5. The way Fadel's eyebrows shoot up and he huffs in amusement really raises the question if Fadel is wondering what kind of payment Style will take for fixing Fadel's car. At the same time, Style offering to fix Fadel's car also works as a callback to the circumstances in which they first met: Style has fixed Fadel's car once before, maybe even twice, if we assume that Style fixed the jeep again between episode 8 and episode 9 when it broke down.

No. 5: A Man Has Wants, A Man Has Needs

At the end of class, Fadel is working on the car and Style uses the chance with everyone else distracted for a little private chat with Fadel. And now that they don't have an audience listening in and appearances to keep up, they're both back to the rude pronouns guu/mueng. Fadel likely sort of already expected that Style would find a way to get to him, because he says he had thought Style would do something illegal to get inside the prison and I think the majority of the fandom thought similarly. I personally realized Kant and Style would be working in prison when I went to rewatch the episode promo like two or so days before the episode and realized that the blue clothes that Fadel was wearing in the shots where Style kissed him on the cheek and threw him against the wall looked like the prison uniform while Style was in normal clothes. At first I thought the shot of the cheek kiss by the car was when Fadel was out of prison again and that it was set in Style's garage, but once it hit me that they were clearly fixing a car while Fadel was in a prison uniform while Style wasn't, that's when I realized that Style was likely there as a volunteer worker (or something along those lines) rather than a prisoner. Unfortunately, I was too busy trying to get my ep11 meta done, so I didn't make a post about my discovery which means I don't have receipts and this brag is completely worthless. Ah, well. At least my ep11 meta is done.

Style says "This is way better" and steps closer to Fadel, reaching out his arm right into Fadel's personal space, seeking proximity before he even says it out loud or touches Fadel at all. Fadel responds to it by immediately moving his own arm closer to Style's hand and while I know that Joong most likely did this as part of their "choreography" so that Dunk would have an easier time grabbing his arm for when Style talks about touching Fadel, the thing is if we're looking at it from the character's perspective, well, Joong might have known Dunk was gonna grab his arm, but Fadel didn't know Style was gonna grab him and so I love this small interaction anyway. Style reaches into Fadel's personal space with his hand and Fadel immediately moves his own hand closer to Style.

And it's only then that Style says: "I get to be close to you and to touch you just like I wanted to." Then Style sneaks a kiss on Fadel's cheek, just like he said he wanted to do in his first scene of the episode. Fadel gets as stressed about it just like I did when I watched the episode for the first time. I mean come on, Style, there are still people around!! I swear to god, the amount of times I've had to remind myself during the prison part that this was a romcom and that this was the final episode of the show and that nothing too bad was gonna happen now...

Fadel scolds Style, but Style doesn't care. He points out: "Why would I come here if I don't get to do anything with you at all?" The whole point of finding a way to get inside the prison was to be able to touch Fadel, to kiss him, to hold him, just like Style was so very desperately wishing he could do in the very beginning of the episode. And he's not gonna pass up that chance, especially when it's been a while since he actually got to feel Fadel's skin.

Fadel sees the guard walk around and tells Style "I can't help you." Then Fadel continues to be grumpy, scolding Style "You said you'd be patient, and you're already losing it?" Style is so used to Fadel's grumpy personality by now that he isn't fazed in the slightest. He comments it with a very quick huff to the side, then goes "A guy has wants and needs, you know?" He smiles a little when the words are out of his mouth and observes Fadel's reaction, eyes fixed on him attentively. Fadel lifts his head, looking a little done, but ends up breaking anyway after staring at Style for a moment. Fadel laughs and turns his head away to hide it, then looks at Style one more time, before directing his attention back to the car. Style watches him with a fond smile and affectionately shakes his head as if to say That's so you of you to first be grumpy, only to fall for my charm in the end anyway, you silly goose. As if I don't know you by now, my love.

After that, Style goes back into teacher mode in order to officially end the class. And I just love how the wide-shot reveals that now both Style and Fadel have their hands in each other's personal space close to the other person's body, their arms criss-crossed. And I also love how Style leans right into Fadel, touching him more when he goes to address the whole class.

Good job at pretending not to know each other, boys. Really. Very inconspicuous.

Fadel does move away from Style a little a moment later while Style continues his "see you next week" speech. But we can still see just how much Style missed touching Fadel, because he seeks out proximity again by tapping Fadel, casually touching him again immediately after he is done ending the class.

Then his eyes also find Fadel's face again, who looks at him very amused. And now that class is over, Style can finally do what he's really here for.

No. 6: Loyal to You

When we cut back to them, they've found a hidden corner and Style is shoving Fadel against a wall, kissing him with great urgency. Once they break apart, Style tells Fadel "I've been dying to do that since the moment I saw you", smiling a very satisfied smile. Fun fact, this time around Style is actually less dramatic in the original wording:

I've been wanting to do this since I saw your face. กูอยากทำแบบนี้ตั้งแต่เห็นหน้ามึงอ่ะ [guu - yàak - tam - bàep níi - dtâng-dtàe - hĕn - nâa mueng - àh] I - want - do - like this - since - see - your face - [particle]

Fadel laughs and says "You're crazy", to which Style replies "Love will make people do crazy things" and let me just share the original wording for a second:

Love makes us do something crazy like this. ความรักอ่ะ ทำให้คนเราทำอะไรบ้าๆ แบบนี้แหละ [kwaam rák - àh • tam hâi - kon rao - tam - à-rai - bâa bâa - bàep níi - làe] love - [particle] • make that, cause - people, we - do - something - crazy - like this - [particle] Official subs: Love will make people do crazy things.

The reason why I'm sharing this isn't, because the translation is inaccurate in any way, but rather because this line reminded me of another line Style says in episode 7 and I just want to point out the similarity in the original wording that isn't as clean in the official translation:

Love makes us do something stupid. ความรักมันทำให้คนเราทำอะไรโง่ๆนะ [kwaam rák - man - tam hâi - kon rao - tam - à-rai - ngôh ngôh - ná] love - it - make that, cause - people, we - do - something - stupid - [particle] Official subs: Love sure makes you do something stupid.

It greatly amuses me that Style went from "Love makes us do stupid things" to "Love makes us do crazy things". Style, lover of love, willing to do stupid and crazy things for the sake of love. He is stupid and crazy enough to even find a way to get into prison for the sole purpose of making out with his boyfriend, because who can wait five whole years, amirite? Style immediately proves his point by continuing to kiss Fadel. But Fadel doesn't let Style kiss him for long, because he has something to say: "Save your sweet words." Funfact, he uses the word นำเน่า [nam nâo] here, which my friend explained to mean "soapy" (as in soap opera like). I think Fadel just called Style "dramatic" without actually calling him dramatic, and I think that might also be the reason why Style steps back with a sigh, looking kind of disappointed and annoyed, before answering Fadel's question of "How did you get in here?"

We know being called dramatic has been a touchy subject for Style before and so has been being pushed away. I think Style had a moment of Does he really not appreciate that I'm here now? Does he not appreciate my efforts? But Style doesn't comment on it, doesn't start an argument, and instead answers Fadel's question. He explains that he'll be teaching at prison every week now thanks to Kant's connections and then says:

I'll get to come and see you every week. จะได้มาเจอมึงทุกอาทิตย์เลย [jà - dâai - maa - jer - mueng - túk - ah-tít - loiie] will - get to - come - see, meet - you - every - week - [particle] Official subs: So I'll see you every week.

Although when Style says this, it's not as joyful as you might expect. There is determination in Style's voice, because he is determined to do this, but there is also a bit of a challenging edge to it and I think it comes from his sudden worry that Fadel might not want him here after all. It's a challenge in the sense of Well, are you happy about me being here once a week from now on or not? He keeps his eyes fixed on Fadel and when Fadel then huffs and smiles almost in disbelief, the look on Style's face softens a little bit before he leans in to kiss Fadel again.

But once more, Fadel isn't letting Style kiss him for long, before he speaks again: "You know… You don’t have to do this." Style goes still as he waits for Fadel to elaborate. And Fadel does:

It's fine if you visit me once a month or once every three months. มาหากูเดือนละครั้งหรือสามเดือนครั้งก็ได้ [maa hăa - guu - deuuan lá kráng - rĕu - săam deuuan kráng - gôh dâai] (come) visit - me - once a month - or - once every three months - it's fine Official subs: I don't mind seeing you once a month or once every three months.

Ah. There it is. Fadel is pushing him away again. Or so Style thinks. Of course Fadel is saying this to be considerate of Style's time and schedule (after all, Style did tell him that things at the garage were getting busy), not wanting Style to get tired and exhausted in the process, but what Style hears is I don't want to see you that often. And now Style is seriously done.

He steps back, tilting his face in a Really, now?? way, presses his lips together unhappily, then raises his eyebrows and firmly tells Fadel: "I did everything I could to be with you, you know?" Style's next question is another challenge to Fadel:

Are you not moved? ไม่ซึ้งบ้างหรอ [mâi - séung - bâang - rŏr] not - touched, moved - any - ? Official subs: You don’t appreciate that?

Fadel breathes out loudly and tilts his head like Oh, come on, it's not like that. But Style is really annoyed now and continues to say: "Or did you already find someone here? I'd expect it of a popular guy like you." You heard him use the anglicism "hot" here, right? Because the second sentence goes more like:

You're hot anyway. ฮอตอยู่แล้วนี่มึงอ่ะ [hot - yùu - láew - nîi - mueng - àh] hot - be - already - [interjection] - you - [particle]

A little extra info from my Thai friend: according to him in Thai this word doesn't necessarily refer to someone's appearance and to physical attraction, but rather it is used to express someone has a quality or skill that is desirable.

Now I think Style actually being jealous for real can be a valid interpretation of him asking Fadel if he found someone new in prison, but to be honest, personally I don't really think so, or rather I think real jealousy is the case only on a surface level. Because Style knows Fadel, Style knows that Fadel doesn't easily open up to others. Style knows first hand how much work, effort, and persistence it takes to get to Fadel's heart. Style also knows Fadel would absolutely kill him if Style ever cheated on him and so I don't think Style would expect Fadel to be a hypocrite and go cheat on Style just like that himself. So I don't think Style actually expects Fadel to have found himself a new boyfriend in prison for real. No, in my opinion this is about something else deep down. I think Style is actually hurt that Fadel is (seemingly) pushing him away again, the way Fadel has done before so often. And Style has felt hurt from that before, and he's argued with Fadel about that before (most recently last episode during their last supper, and in episode 10 the scene where Style demands to help with the mission as well as the scene where Fadel cries in Style's lap). And I think playing it over apparent jealousy is Style's way of letting Fadel know that he's sulking about this, without starting a full-blown argument. Because at this point Fadel should know better than to keep pushing Style away, especially when Style is putting in so much effort in their relationship again. And part of me also wonders if Style was trying to avoid being called "dramatic" again (remember: touchy subject) if he had outright complained about being pushed away, while jealousy could maybe be taken as a "more valid" or more expected or acceptable reason to be mad.

Style starts to walk off, upset, because fine, if Fadel doesn't want him here then he'll leave him alone. But Fadel catches his arm. Style is sulking and it's Fadel's job now to make up with him. And Fadel does: "No matter where I am, you're the only one for me." Fadel holds him back, pulls him back in, doesn't simply just let Style go. And then promises his loyalty to Style. Something that Style has promised to Fadel many, many times. Fadel's efforts to get Style to stay placate Style again. This is all Style wants: for Fadel to show that he, too, wishes for Style to be in his life and be willing to work for it, the same way Style constantly shows he wishes for Fadel to be and actively works on Fadel being by his side. Style's face softens again, he smiles a little and lets Fadel kiss him.

They go back to making out against the wall. Well. That is, until the prison guard walks in on them. They quickly jump apart and Style rambles some orders about cleaning up, before walking off. And I love that Style can't help but touch Fadel one last time, before he leaves. He really has gone too long without touching Fadel and has to make up for it now.

Language fun fact: Technically, a pronoun switch from guu/mueng to phom/khun isn't actually happening here, because Style actually uses no pronouns at all when he talks to Fadel in front of the guard! Fadel does drop one polite "krub", but that's about it. There are no pronouns this time, but I think it's safe to assume they would have switched to phom/khun again in front of the guard, if the conversation had gone on.

Side Quest: Year 2 or Literal Horny Jail

Alright, sooo, there isn't that much interesting happening in year 2, or rather not interesting enough that I really wanna get into detail and turn this into its own section, but of course I couldn't leave it entirely unaddressed. So a side quest, it is. The brothers' second year in prison turns out to be a happy one, with both couples really obsessed with each other as if they'd only just started dating, sneaking kisses and make-out sessions whenever they can. Somehow, they're never found out. Everyone is happy and pleased, and this is especially significant for Fadel and Style. They're happy and in love and still very much into each other. We don't actually get any scenes of Fadel and Style together during year 3, but I think it's safe to assume that things are going this well throughout the third year, too. Well, until things aren't. Until suddenly we get dropped down to the ground from the high that we had just been taken up to.

No. 7: Busy Bee

Year 4 comes around and with that all the happiness gets thrown right out the window. Because Style, without a warning, suddenly doesn't show up to class one day and instead waits for Fadel in the visiting room. When Fadel walks in, Style addresses him happily, but his happiness is not as bright as we know it can be, it's a bit subdued. Style asks why Fadel took so long and I think it explains why Style doesn't sound as cheerful as usual: I think while Style was waiting, for a moment he got really worried that Fadel wouldn't come to see him.

By the way, yes, Style did phrase it as a question in the original wording:

Why were you so slow? ทำไมช้าจังเลย [tam-mai - cháa - jang loiie] why - slow, late - so much, very much Official subs: Took you forever.

Fadel explains he went to the garage first, but Style wasn't there. Style apologizes for it, then explains he's been very busy. Style had already mentioned at the beginning of the episode that he was busier compared to before, and now he's even more busy than that. So busy that he might not be able to come in and teach as often anymore. He tells Fadel just that and looks at him with sad, apologetic puppy eyes.

Fadel asks why that is and when Style answers, he puts on a very enthusiastic voice in an attempt to make the situation sound as positive as possible. Style explains that he's in charge of the garage now that his dad is retired and updates Fadel on how he's thinking of expanding the business and how he has a lot of projects going on that allowed him to meet more people in the industry. Style's little mechanic world is getting bigger for him, isn't that exciting? Style just wants to share the joy of his good news with Fadel.

Fadel nods a bit unenthusiastically and says "That's good. It's alright. I understand" and I think Style can tell that in reality Fadel is upset just as much as the audience can, even if it might not immediately seem like he can tell:

Style continues to smile, but it's like he's putting down the enthusiasm that he's just put on, and he looks at Fadel. Style is always looking at Fadel. And Style has become an expert at reading Fadel. There is no way Fadel's disappointment passed right by Style, even if his expression stays positive and affectionate and full of love. Style doesn't say anything and I think he's actually waiting to see if Fadel will fall back into his old patterns and usual downward spirals again. And I think Style keeps his expression joyful and warm in order to give Fadel as little reason to think that Style doesn't care about him anymore. But the trauma sits deep within Fadel, leading him to say: "You don't have to come here to teach, you know?"

This is the exact reaction that Style was expecting of Fadel and we can tell, because Style is immediately ready to calm Fadel's anxiety without missing a beat: "Don't worry. I'll make time for it." It's really not that big of a deal. And in case it is a big deal, Style has already thought of a solution, a compromise: "But if I can't, I'll just come visit you instead." Because let's be real, Style would miss Fadel just as much and wouldn't want to miss out on seeing Fadel's face. "Is that okay?" he asks. Do we have a deal? Fadel stares at Style for a second, then nods awkwardly, but looks very unconvinced and doesn't say anything. Style raises his eyebrows a little, then leans back, keeping his eyes fixed on Fadel.

As I said above, I think Style could already tell Fadel was upset a few lines earlier, but I think this is the moment where he realizes that Fadel is more upset than Style had initially thought and that Fadel isn't gonna be easy to cheer up about this. It really does seem to be a big deal to Fadel. So much so, that Style now chooses to address it after all: "What's wrong? Are you mad at me?" And I adore how Style continues to interact with Fadel in such a loving, kind way and continues to smile at him warmly.

Style isn't attacking Fadel when he asks Fadel if he's mad, instead he's reaching out to him kindly and in a way that makes it very clear that Style is asking out of concern for Fadel's well-being and not because he's trying to start an argument. In fact, Style is very much trying to not start an argument right now. Fadel says he isn't mad at Style. "I understand you have to live your life. I'm in here so there's nothing I can do but wait." And that's when Style's smile finally falls completely.

I think part of him is concerned for Fadel and his mental state, and part of him is also worried where this might be going. I think the underlying question here is Are you... about to preemptively push me away again because you're falling into a downward spiral again?

Fadel continues. "Style, I think..." Style's face is very serious now as he listens to Fadel to find out where this is headed. Fadel says "Our timing just wasn't right at all" or word for word:

We met at the wrong place at the wrong time. เราเจอกันผิดที่ผิดเวลาไปหน่อยว่ะ [rao - jer gan - pìt - tîi - pìt - weh-lah - bpai nòi - wâ] we - meet each other - wrong - place - wrong - time - too little - [particle]

Style is quiet for a moment and I think now there is also a hint of fear added to the seriousness in his expression as well as confusion.

I think Style does very much understand that Fadel really is in the process of pushing him away again, but I think he's confused about what exactly Fadel means by "wrong place, wrong time". Style needs to know what exactly Fadel is getting at in order to properly fight against Fadel's downward spiral and so he asks. Fadel explains and Style listens intently. "I think you should focus on your future." Style is wasting many hours just to come to see Fadel at the prison since it's so far away. Style doesn't earn any money working at the prison. Style is better off getting paid fixing some expensive cars. "You shouldn't waste your time on me." Fadel is once again simply just presuming Style's perspective on things without actually asking Style about it. But at least Style now has a lead, something specific he can counter. And Style does, and just like before he talks to Fadel in a very kind, warm way: "It's not a waste of time. You're my boyfriend. I will always make time for you. Work is important, but you're also important to me." Style is also back to a warm, happy face now, the seriousness from a moment ago hidden completely.

He then also speaks a little reminder to Fadel that Fadel's behavior right now isn't entirely fair to Style either: "Before you went to jail, you told me to focus on my own life. Now that I'm doing exactly that, you are sulking?" And again, this isn't supposed to be an attack. When Style says this, he is more serious than he was mere seconds before, but Style's voice is still rather soft, and while his words come with a certain urgency, there are no sharp edges to his tone. Style stays patient with Fadel, clearly trying to talk this issue out without getting into a full-blown argument.

By the way, the word that Style uses here that was translated as "sulk" is งอน [ngon]. Avid watchers of Thai dramas might have come across this word before (especially those who also follow actors outside their series). The dictionary thai2english translates it as "sulk" and "pout", and I knew it meant something like this, but I still went ahead and asked my Thai friend about it, in case he had something interesting to say about it. And he did, and I'd just like to share it here, because I think some of you will love to read about it, too. According to my friend งอน [ngon] is when you are "upset and disappointed, because the other person should know better, but it's not significant enough to be properly angry". My friend also said that it's a whole thing: for example when you are งอน [ngon] you can't actually admit to it, and it's the other person's job to come to you and make up with you (this step is called ง้อ [ngóh]).

So Style asks if Fadel is งอน [ngon] (and I hit pause after Style's sentence to have my friend explain this word, before continuing the scene) and Fadel says that no, he is not งอน [ngon] (after which my friend exclaimed: "See!! Exactly!! He's denying it!! Like I said!!"), then tells Style "Just do what you want. Don't take me into account." Fadel gets up to walk away and Style calls out for him to wait. But Fadel is done with the conversation. "I have work in the kitchen. Don’t want these prisoners to starve." With these words, Fadel leaves Style sitting there, alone, looking unhappy.

No. 8: Be Patient, My Son

Next, we find ourselves in Style's garage and we are shown that Style is indeed working hard, earning money. Even his dad comments on it: "You always only fixed a few cars a month. What's going on?" Style's dad then asks if Style is in need of money and Style says he just wants to save it. And that's when we, the audience, slowly start to realize that Style is likely trying to buy back the restaurant. But Style's dad doesn't know this, so he starts asking whether Style is intending to buy a new car, and when Style says no, he's not, his dad makes a guess for a "love nest" (เรือนหอ [reuuan hŏh]). I didn't ask my friend about the term เรือนหอ [reuuan hŏh], but according to thai2english and sanook.com it refers to a home for newlyweds which, uh, is quite different from "a place (such as an apartment) used for amorous and often illicit rendezvous", which Merriam-Webster defines love nest as. Style's dad asks if Style is getting married, and that's the fifth reference to a FadelStyle marriage. Here's a recap, in case you forgot:

Ep6: "wear make-up with me" vs. "will you marry me" (explanation here)

Ep7: proposal prank

Ep8: Fadel and Style taking part in an actual wedding

Ep11: Style's dad outright telling Fadel and Style to get married

Ep.12: Style's dad asking his son about marriage again

I can't believe this show did not end with them actually getting married, or at the very least engaged. It's gotta be my biggest beef with the show, not gonna lie.

Anyway, so Style informs his dad that he is not, in fact, getting married and goes on to tease his dad, asking if his dad doesn't like seeing his son working hard. The comment makes his dad laugh, although he's already got another question on his mind: "Where's Fadel been, though?" I do think it's kinda funny how this question comes up only after more than three years. Did Style's dad really never wonder about it? Or has Style always casually mentioned Fadel over the years and his dad just assumed that Fadel only happened to come over when Style's dad happened not to be there for it? Why did it take more than three years for this question to come up?

Either way, Style quickly comes up with the excuse that Fadel is in culinary school abroad. And from the way Style says it, it seems like Style is making up this excuse on the spot, which again has me wonder... what exactly has Style been telling his dad the past 3+ years?

Style says that Fadel will be back, which is the truth this time, and Style's dad is happy to hear that, because he's actually rooting for Fadel. We love to hear it. Then Style's dad tells him "You need a lot of trust when it comes to long distance relationships. Be patient, son" and I'm so glad we got this very scene, following the last one. I think this is something Style kinda needed to hear at this point. Because Fadel had just walked out on him, clearly upset, and now Style's relationship is in trouble. And I adore that Style gets told some comforting words, even if his dad actually has no idea what's really going on. "You need trust," his dad tells him, "be patient." And Style thinks about it.

These words hit Style, they mean something to Style. He goes very quiet while his dad continues talking. "You'll be back together soon." Style's dad puts a comforting hand on Style's shoulder and Style's reaction is one I find very difficult to describe and put into words (see gif below). It's like, on the one hand his own optimistic and hopeful nature agrees with his dad, but at the same time he also doesn't quite believe his dad, as if he's thinking Well, whether we'll be back together or not depends entirely on how stubborn Fadel is and if he stops being mad at me. I think part of Style lowkey fears that Fadel might not be willing to make up with him again. Style looks at his dad who then gives him an encouraging nod and Style returns a small smile and a little nod himself.

Style's dad walks away and Style's smile slowly falls as he gets lost in thought and looks down at the money in his hands.

Style is most definitely thinking about the state of his relationship with Fadel and his dad's encouraging words right now. And we, the audience, are now all going Oh, he is SO buying back the restaurant for Fadel!! Honestly, it's my own personal headcanon that Style started working out a plan to buy it the moment he got back from that very first visit where Fadel was like "I'm gonna buy back the restaurant."

No. 9: Making Up

We don't know how long it's been since Fadel and Style talked last, but I assume it's been a while, since last time we checked Style said he might not be able to come as often and now we learn from Bison that Style is at the prison twice a week these days. Personally I assume it's been at least a month if not more. I feel like 3 weeks should be a long enough time for "twice a week" to have become an established pattern that Bison can point out, plus at least one or the other week for Style to work on his projects before that. There's also the chance that it's been even longer than that. Either way, it's been quite a while for sure. After all this time, Fadel is still งอน [ngon] at Style and as my friend explained to me, it's Style's responsibility to make up with him. And so Style does. Surely also boosted by his dad's encouraging words, Style takes the first step towards Fadel by having Bison deliver a small origami bouquet. We know for a fact that Style was not the one who made the bouquet, because Bison does explicitly say the bouquet came "from someone who takes origami training" and I don't think it was a lie, because I think Style would most certainly have bragged about his origami skills if he'd made it himself. However, I do think the little Heart Burger flag is something that Style did make himself. And it's the first hint of confirmation that we get that Style is indeed trying to buy back the restaurant. Fadel doesn't make the connection, though. The little gift still touches him enough to finally seek out Style again instead of actively avoiding him.

Style is wiping the board when Fadel finds him. We don't know if Style is about to start a class and is wiping the board in preparation so that he would have space to write on once the prisoners come in or if he just ended a class and now he's doing some clean-up for next time. My personal headcanon is that we're seeing Style after class actually. It's been established that the prisoners help putting stuff back once class is over and with the way Style is completely by himself when the scene starts it's my headcanon that Style is being slow and hanging back on purpose, because he is desperately hoping Fadel would come to see him, even if Style isn't really expecting it. And the reason why I believe Style thinks Fadel won't show up despite the gift is because Style isn't cheerful the way he usually is when he's purposefully staying optimistic (like he was for example when he's talking to Kant about the cat in front of the abandoned diner in episode 6, or in episode 7 when there is clearly something off about the assassin brothers and Kant points it out and Style insists that Kant is overthinking it or in episode 9 when he makes wishes for his dead body and so on). No, Style looks very serious when the camera first cuts to his face.

He does smile a little once it's fully sunk in that Fadel is really here, standing in front of him, and only then does he put on a bit of a cheerful, teasing voice when he tells Fadel: "Thought you'd never see me again." Didn't I say Style was a little afraid that Fadel might not be willing to make up again? Fadel bluntly asks what Style is here for and Style drops the positive voice. Instead, now his voice sounds more concerned and regretful when he asks "What are you mad (งอน [ngon]) at me about?" As per the etiquette that my friend explained, Fadel immediately denies that he's mad (งอน [ngon]). But then he finally does tell Style what the problem is: "I told you I don't like expectations because I don't want to be disappointed." (Btw, Fadel did indeed say this pretty much word for word when he was crying on those steps in episode 10.) Style then says "But I didn't do anything to disappoint you."

I actually had a question about this line to my friend as well: for the English translation the sentence was phrased in past tense and to me that sounds like Style is talking about something specific maybe back around that time when he failed to show up to teach, an incident clearly set in the past. The thing is, though, that Thai doesn't actually have verb tenses. There are words you can add to a sentence that will clarify whether a statement is about the past or the future, but the verb itself doesn't change and sometimes things can get a little muddy. This is one such case. And I was confused, because especially in retrospective where we know Style is actually in the middle of trying to get back the restaurant (he also states later in the scene that he is in the middle of doing something that he isn't sure is gonna work yet, meaning the restaurant has not yet been acquired at this point) I thought Style's statement could maybe also be taken as What I'm doing and working on right now isn't something that is wronging you. Since Style trying to buy back the restaurant is an on-going project that is happening off-screen at the very same time, it's not a one time thing that happened back when Fadel first got mad at Style. No, it's still happening at this very moment. I discussed this with my friend who thought about it for a moment and then decided that the present perfect tense would probably be the best solution here, since it implies that it's about something that started in the past and is still on-going (or still has an effect) in the present.

So Fadel says he doesn't want to be disappointed and Style tells him "But I haven't done anything to disappoint you." Because what Style has been doing will be the opposite of a disappointment for Fadel. If it works out, that is. Because if it doesn't, if Style fails then it will be a huge disappointment to Fadel. And so Style doesn't want to tell Fadel about it just yet, precisely because he knows Fadel doesn't like disappointments. But Fadel is missing all that context, and so to him the situation reads very differently. And he's hurt. And now he finally opens up to Style about it: "Coming to see me regularly, getting me used to seeing you, making me miss you, and suddenly disappearing… How do you think that made me feel?" Style doesn't reply, he just keeps looking at Fadel with a serious face.

I think he feels bad that Fadel feels like this, but I think he truly doesn't dare to reveal what he's doing. Style knows just how important the burger restaurant was/is for Fadel and how much he loved the place and I think Style assumes it will be an even bigger disappointment and blow to Fadel if Style outright tells him and then fails to deliver. And it's a disappointment that Style really doesn't want to see, because I think it would crush Style himself. I think Style would actually beat himself up about that. And so he keeps his plans to himself, because he's afraid of failure. This specific failure is one he really can't afford. Style stays silent and doesn't answer Fadel's question. Fadel continues to rage: "If you can't do it, don't promise me anything. Do you know how easy it is to overthink when I'm here?" Style still isn't saying anything. Fadel is done. "If you have something important to do, just focus on it. I don't want to slow you down."

Fadel turns to walk off angrily. Style moves at the speed of lightning to hold Fadel back. Fadel finally talked to him and Style is not gonna let him go that easily. They still have something to clear up. Fadel stops and turns back to look at Style again. Before Style even says anything, he pulls away his vest to reveal the heart burger pin that Fadel gave to him. The pin that is very important to Fadel, the pin Fadel is very protective of. In a way, the pin is Fadel's heart which he gave to Style only last episode. And it's right there. Fadel's heart. On Style's heart. In Style's heart. "You're the most important thing to me," is the first thing out of Style's mouth. Style is extremely serious right now. All of Style's decisions, all of Style's actions revolve around Fadel. And he really doesn't want to lose him. And even if he's afraid of failure and disappointing Fadel if he can't pull through with his plan, losing Fadel is worse, and so Style finally opens up at least a little bit: "I'm doing something for both of our futures." Again, Style is extremely serious. He isn't hiding behind a positive attitude, his words aren't performative in the slightest. This is extremely serious and extremely important. I think Fadel does believe him, but wants to confirm that it's true and also doesn't want to be kept in the dark. "What are you doing?" he asks, then throws Style a challenge, almost an attack: "Can you tell me?" You know your behavior is hurting me, will you keep it up for the sake of whatever it is you're apparently doing?

At this point everyone in the audience is screaming HE'S BUYING BACK THE RESTAURANT FOR YOU, YOU DIMWIT!!!!! at Fadel. But Fadel still isn't making the connection, despite the hint with the Heart Burger flag and the Heart Burger pin and Style dropping he's working on their shared future. Can you tell me? But Style can't. He doesn't quite dare. "Can you wait a little longer? I want to be certain about it first. I want to make sure I really can do it." This is a plea. Style is pleading with Fadel. I told you as much as I could and I really am trying my best. For us. Will you please give me the benefit of the doubt and be considerate of my feelings in this situation, too? As I said, I think Fadel did believe Style earlier already, but I think now Fadel really understands that what Style is doing is very important to Style, but that it comes with certain insecurities that Style isn't ready to open up about. Style never pressured Fadel to open up about anything he wasn't ready to open up about and Fadel isn't about to pressure Style either. Style is loud and clear on the fact that he has Fadel in mind and that Fadel is important to him. Fadel doesn't immediately answer and instead contemplates on the situation and Style's plea while Style keeps his eyes fixed on him. Fadel's reaction, Fadel's response really matters to Style right now. Their relationship depends on it. And then Fadel finally yields. Because Style and their relationship is just as important to Fadel. Even if the situation isn't ideal. "You really love surprising me, don’t you?" Fadel finally says. And let me just share the original wording, even if it doesn't make much of a difference:

You always like to surprise me. มึงนี่ชอบเซอร์ไพรส์กูตลอดเลยนะ [mueng - nîi - chôp - sêr-prai - guu - dtà-lòt - loiie - ná] you - [interjection] - like - surprise - me - always - [particle] - [particle]

(Alt. translation: You're always surprising me.)

I like that in Thai Fadel says Style always surprises him, because to me it highlights how for the past 12 episodes we really have watched Style surprise Fadel all the time. Over and over again. In many different ways. God, I love them, I love their story so much. Anyway. Back to the scene. Fadel says this and Style understands that Fadel is no longer outright pushing him away or blocking him anymore. Style replies:

Then come learn how to fix cars with me again. งั้นมาเรียนซ่อมรถกับกูใหม่นะ [ngán - maa - riian - sôm - rót - gàp - guu - mài - ná] then - come - learn - fix, repair - car(s) - with - me - again - [na] Official subs: Come back to class.

The phrasing of the official subs sounded a bit too much like a direct order in their written form, especially without the context of Style's friendly tone, which is why I wanted to share a softer phrasing for the purpose of this meta. Because Style's words aren't an order. They're an invitation. If you've forgiven me, come see me again regularly. They're a peace offering. Fadel stays grumpy and grumbles: "I've been taking the course for years, and I still don't know how to fix anything." It's a stab at Style, but not an aggressive one. And it doesn't have anything to do with their original conflict. Fadel is leaving that conflict behind. Fadel has forgiven Style, even if he doesn't outright say it. Style finally laughs (or rather snorts) for the first time this entire scene and for a moment it looks like he's about to cry from relief that Fadel is no longer angry and that their relationship is saved:

Fadel continues with his grumbly teasing: "All you do is yap." The relationship really is back on. Style teases Fadel right back: "But that's exactly what you love about me, isn't it?" This isn't just Style going along with Fadel's teasing, it's also Style telling Fadel No matter how grumpy you pretend you are, no matter how much you were ignoring me, I know you never stopped loving me, I know you still love me now.

And finally, Fadel breaks. He laughs for a moment. Because he can't deny Style's call-out. Both, that he still loves Style and that he likes that Style is a chatty cat. Fadel pulls up the Heart Burger flag from the origami bouquet. Style laughs in surprise. Why? I don't know. You decide. Maybe he thought Fadel had stomped on it in dramatic anger. Or maybe he's thinking Oh wow, did the bouquet and the flag actually work? Is that what finally made him come see me again? Fadel is still holding up the flag and says that it's cute. And again you can really see the relief in Style's eyes, alongside his joy that things are looking better now with Fadel.

Style asks Fadel to clean the board and Fadel grumbles about it, but does it anyway. Because when does Fadel not give in to Style.

No. 10: Show, Don't Tell

We reach year 5 and finally the brothers are released. We check in with our foursome on the day the brothers get to go home. Bison walks through the door first, runs up to Kant and hugs him. In the meantime, Style is sat on the hood of the car. Fadel doesn't immediately walk up to him, but instead stops behind/next to Kant and Bison who discuss just how much they missed each other. Style doesn't pass up the opportunity to tease Fadel (and I think Style, too, wants a proper greeting, thank you very much):

Hey. This couple said they missed each other. เฮ้ย คู่นี้เขาบอกคิดถึงกันด้วยนะ [hóiie • kûu níi - kăo - bòhk - kít-tĕung - gan - dûuay - ná] hey • this couple - tell - miss - each other - too - [particle] Official subs: Hear that? He said he missed him and all that. So how about you, did you miss me? แล้วมึงอ่ะ คิดถึงกูป่ะ [láew - mueng - àh • kít-tĕung - guu - bpà] and - you - [particle] • miss - me - ? Official subs: Did you miss me at all?

(Sharing this mostly because I feel like it and I know a lot of you love the language bits, not because the literal wording makes any difference in this case lol)

Fadel announces "I'm not saying it", but the reality of the matter is that Style's wish is Fadel's command. And so Fadel walks up to Style and plants a kiss on his lips. "I'm showing it."

But before they break apart, Style pats Fadel like easy tiger, we have company. I do think this is about Kant and Bison's live slug reaction and not because Style doesn't want to be kissing Fadel right now. I think Style is trying to be considerate of the other two. After the kiss, Style gets up, hugs Fadel and over his shoulder nods at Kant and Bison and boastfully points at Fadel like Did you guys see that?? That's my man!! It's the exact same energy as he had at the end of episode 9 when he was raising his eyebrows at Kant and Bison in the boat. It's the You guys don't have a Fadew like me energy. (I'm out of images for this post, but here's a parallel gifset.) I love just how proud Style always is of Fadel, and how happily he'll show him off.

While Fadel and Style are busy hugging, Kant and Bison discuss where they should go to now. Style jumps in to ask "Hey, can you guys drop me off near my place first?" and Fadel gets confused: "What do you mean, 'your place'? The garage?" Fadel's confusion might be a little weird, because why exactly would Fadel be so confused about "my place"? That seems pretty self-explanatory in English, no? Well, let me explain. Because there's something really interesting going on here in Thai...

Now, I didn't go back and rewatch the entire show to check (if I did, it would be March until I finally drop this meta lol), but as far as I remember they usually refer to Style's place as "the garage", or อู่ [ùu] in Thai. But here for this line, when Style say "my place", he does not use the word อู่ [ùu] (= garage). Instead, he asks to be dropped off at his ร้าน [ráan]. Now what does that mean? This word means "store" or "shop" and like in English it can be paired with other words to specify just what kind of shop it is, for example:

ร้านหนังสือ [ráan năng-sĕu]: ráan (store) + năng-sĕu (book) = book store

ร้านดอกไม้ [ráan dòhk mái]: ráan (store) + dòhk mái (flower) = flower shop

You may have noticed that I said Style says just ร้าน [ráan], without specifying what kind of shop it is. Because just like in English, you can drop the specification and refer to it as just "the shop" (or ร้าน [ráan] in this case).

Now here comes the interesting bit: this word is also used when referring to food related places such as...

restaurant = ร้านอาหาร [ráan aa-hăan] -> ráan (shop) + aa-hăan (food)

coffee shop = ร้านกาแฟ [ráan gaa-fae] -> ráan (shop) + gaa-fae (coffee)

Or, you know, it's also in... ร้านเบอร์เกอร์ [ráan ber-gêr]. Now, เบอร์เกอร์ is "burger", but written in Thai letters. I don't have to tell you what ráan burger translates to, do I?

Oh, and at his point I should probably also mention that while the characters usually refer to Style's place as อู่ [ùu] (garage), when they talk about Fadel's place (the diner) they usually call it ร้าน [ráan] (shop, restaurant).

So yeah. The moment Style dropped that he wanted to be taken to his ร้าน [ráan] instead of his อู่ [ùu] (= garage) was the moment I started screaming, because that's when I knew for sure Style had bought back the restaurant and more importantly, that he had succeeded in doing so (yes, I did scream as if I didn't already know they were gonna be back at the restaurant through the clips shown in the MVs and from pics the boys posted during the shoot where they posed in front of the burger shop sign and their clothes matched the ones from the clips lol).

As I already mentioned, Style refers to it as just ร้าน [ráan] without specifying what kind of ร้าน [ráan] it is and it's vague enough that Fadel doesn't catch on the surprise, but it's just weird enough for Fadel to get confused: "What do you mean, 'ร้าน [ráan]'? The garage (อู่ [ùu])?" Yeah, Fadel's confusion here is about Style's unexpected word choice, because usually Style doesn't refer to his garage as ร้าน [ráan] (= shop, store). This is how they used to refer to the diner before Fadel had to go to prison. Style tells him he'll know soon and urges him to get into the car. They all do and Kant drives off.

No. 11: Surprise Surprise

The surprise works. Fadel didn't see it coming. "You said it was sold to someone." Style nods, making a m-hm sound, an adoring smile on his face that just oozes love and care. I really wish I could add a gif or a screenshot of his face, but unfortunately there's an image limit. I mean, you've seen the episode. You know how head over heels in love Style looks throughout this entire scene.

Style explains he bought it back for Fadel who then says Style didn't have to do that. Style says "I worked my ass off to buy this place back for you." I'm not entirely happy with the phrasing in the official subs, because to me there is also a negative connotation hidden in the phrase "work one's ass off", in the sense of "I worked my ass off for [xyz] and you don't appreciate it". But that might just be my ESL brain, maybe the media I've consumed mostly used this phrase in a more negative context and now my brain associates it with that.

In Thai Style uses the expression ตั้งใจทำงาน [dtâng jai tam ngaan] which does translate to "to work hard", but this expression contains the word ตั้งใจ [dtâng jai] which means "to intend to" or "to mean". I think it highlights with how much intention Style did this for Fadel. Style really meant to do this, like he's meant a lot of other things he's said or done over the last few episodes.

And Style putting in so much work also really shows how much he's grown. Because in the first half of the show I kept wondering why he had so much time to run after Fadel. We were told Style works as a mechanic, but we rarely saw him do any actual work. Instead, Style was able to follow Fadel's routine at the market or at the sports field or was even able to randomly help Fadel work at the restaurant without any scheduling problems and I kept thinking... what about his job at the garage? Is he never working? How does he have so much time to bother Fadel? And earlier in episode 12 Style's dad actually confirms just that: "You always only fixed a few cars a month." So Style, indeed, had the time to keep bugging Fadel. And back then it seemed like he didn't really have anything to do, didn't really have a goal or any direction in life. But then Kant sets Style on Fadel. And suddenly Style has a mission. And then Style falls in love. And now he suddenly has goals to work towards. We saw it last episode already, when Style suddenly started to make plans (first, his elaborate plan on getting Fadel and Bison on the run and second, during his last supper with Fadel when Style suggests making a plan for their life and their relationship while Fadel was imprisoned), and now it's not just that Style has started planning, but he makes plans with a very specific goal in mind and puts all his efforts in to reach this goal. He's no longer running around doing whatever. Style has really matured in this regard, Fadel's influence has changed him and has made him grow.

When Style says how determined he was to work hard to earn money to buy back the restaurant, his voice is somehow both soft and firm at the same time. His voice is so soft and filled with so much love, but there is some urgency to it, because Style needs Fadel to know this and he needs Fadel to know that he wanted to do this for him. Style knows he didn't have to, but Style wanted to. And it's important to him that Fadel really understands this. Because over the years Fadel has so often blocked or disregarded or struggled to accept all the nice things that Style has done for him. And Style doesn't want his act of love to be devalued again, especially not when he has spent so much time, effort, and energy on it purely out of love. A love that is worth it.

It's finally hitting Fadel what Style was so busy with when Fadel was sulking at him. Style confirms with another "mh". God, Style's heart eyes are really off the charts in this scene. "I wasn't sure I could do it so I didn't tell you," Style explains. And then he tells Fadel how he managed to keep up the energy in order to succeed despite his uncertainty: "But the image of you being back in this restaurant gave me this great strength to fix at least a hundred cars." Style smiles a bright, adoring smile. He's so in love. Fadel takes Styles hand and thanks him: "Thank you for doing this for me and for waiting for me." When Style responds, he actually phrases his sentence in a less direct and more general way in Thai than he does in the official subs:

Well, when you love someone, you gotta be able to wait. ก็คนมันรักอ่ะก็ต้องรอได้ดิ [gôh - kon - man - rák - àh - gôh - dtông - raw - dâai - dì] well - person, people - they, he, she, it - love - [particle] - [sentence link] - have to - wait - be able to - [particle] Official subs: Well, I love you. Of course I can wait.

This is an interesting difference between the Thai wording and the English subs, because once Fadel and Style start dating, Style actually rarely ever outright says the words "I love you" (and neither does Fadel, by the way). The only time Style properly says it is when Fadel has him at gun point in episode 7:

But now that I know the real you, I love you for real, Fadel. แต่พอกูรู้ตัวจริงของมึงแล้วอ่ะ กูรักมึงจริงๆนะฟาเดล [dtàe - poh - guu - rúu - dtuua jing kŏng meung - láew - àh • guu - rák - mueng - jing jing - ná - Fadel] but - when - I - know - real you - already - [particle] • I - love - you - really, for real - [na] - Fadel Official subs: Now that I know you, I really love you, Fadel.

And then arguably he says it again in episode 10 when he comforts Fadel on the stairs, although it's up to debate if that really counts as a direct "I love you":

But that I'm still staying / But that I still stayed แต่ที่กูยังอยู่ [dtàe - tîi - guu - yang - yùu] but - that - I - still - stay Official subs: But I stay with you is because I love that you're you / is because I love you for being you เพราะกูรักที่เป็นมึง [próh - guu - rák - tîi - bpen - mueng] because - I - love - that - be - you Official subs: because I love who you are.

Any other time Style talks about "love", he never addresses Fadel directly but phrases it in a more general way, using the word คน [kon] which means "person" or "people" instead of a pronoun. Style does this in episode 10 just a little while after the above line:

The more I know how much you care about me, ยิ่งกูรู้ว่ามึงแค่ร์กูขนาดเนี่ย [yîng - guu - rúu - wâa - mueng - kâe - guu - kà-nàat nîia] the more - I - know - that - you - care (about) - me - like this, this much Official subs: Knowing how much you care about me the more I know that I don't love the wrong person. มันยิ่งทำให้รู้นะว่ากูอ่ะ รักคนไม่ผิด [man - yîng - tam hâi - rúu - ná - wâa - guu - àh • rák - kon - mâi - pìt] it - the more - make that, cause - know - [particle] - that - I - [particle] • love - person - not - wrong Official subs: makes me certain that I didn't choose the wrong man.

And he also does it in episode 9 when Fadel opens up about his ex for the first time on the island:

A person who risks their own life for someone they don't even know. คนที่เอาชีวิตตัวเองไปเสี่ยงเพื่อคนที่ไม่รู้จักด้วยซ้ำ​ [kon - tîi - ao - chee-wít dtuua eng - bpai - sìiang - pêuua - kon - tîi - mâi - rúu-jàk - dûuay sám] person - that - take - one's own life - go - risk - for - person - that - not - know - even Official subs: You risked your life for a total stranger. I love the right person. กูรักถูกคนแล้วละ [guu - rák - tùuk - kon - láew - lá] I - love - right - person - already - [particle] Official subs: I know I'm in love with the right man.

And Style does it again now in episode 12, standing in front of the restaurant with Fadel. And let me just repeat the line with an even more literal translation this time (this sentence really doesn't work well in a literal translation in English, especially because English also comes with plural forms rip):

Well, people who love, they gotta be able to wait. / Well, a person who loves, has to be able to wait. ก็คนมันรักอ่ะก็ต้องรอได้ดิ [gôh - kon - man - rák - àh - gôh - dtông - raw - dâai - dì] well - person, people - they, he, she, it - love - [particle] - [sentence link] - have to - wait - be able to - [particle] Official subs: Well, I love you. Of course I can wait.

This time Style actually switches it around, because previously คน [kon] implicitly referred to Fadel, while this time คน [kon] actually refers to Style himself. And for some reason the official translator went for a direct "I love you" when Style neither says "I", nor says "you". In the entire series, Fadel and Style rarely say the words "I love you" word for word to each other. It's very clear that they do love each other, but they never outright say it. Instead they say things like "I'm worried about you" or "So what if we're old? I'll still wanna be with you" or "I don't feel so sad anymore. I'm happier." And they don't really need to tell each other I love you anyway, because their actions speak for themselves. It's like Fadel said the moment he got out of prison: "I'm not saying it. I'm showing it." And yes, this line was about missing Style, but really, this sentiment also goes for their love, for both Fadel as well as Style. So Style doesn't directly say he loves Fadel, instead Style just implies it and it's only in the next line where he doesn't mention the word "love" that he directly addresses Fadel:

Whether it's 5 years, 10 years, 20 years, I can always wait for you. จะ 5 ปี 10 ปี 20 ปี รอมึงได้เสมอแหละ [jà - hâa - bpii - sìp - bpii - yîi-sìp - bpii - raw - mueng - dâai - sà-mĕr -làe] will - 5 - years - 10 - years - 20 - years - wait (for) - you - be able to - always - [particle] Official subs: Whether it’s five, ten, or twenty years, I'll wait for you.

And this is the point where I get jumpscared by Dunk's voice suddenly blasting through my speakers. I wish the editors had made the music just a little more quiet. It gets me every single time, because every single time I watch this scene I get so immersed that I completely forget about the jumpscare. Fadel and Style lovingly stare at each other while I scramble to save the health of my eardrums. Then Fadel says he'll work hard to pay Style back, but Style doesn't want that. Technically Style is the current owner, and if Fadel were to pay him back then it would be like Fadel was buying the restaurant from Style. But that's not how Style wants to see it. Because this isn't Style's restaurant that Fadel has to buy from him. No, it's their restaurant. It's already their restaurant. Because obviously if Style owns it, then Fadel owns it, too. It's both a gift to Fadel and something that Style bought for them to share. Because "I'm here to support you in all your dreams." Because no one means well for Fadel more than Style does.

Fadel says "I sure am a lucky guy. I've been doing bad things my entire life, but I have the best boyfriend in the world." Style throws his head to the side, smiling, half in an Oh, you sweet-talker way and half in a No need to mention it, kinda way. Then he says "It's all thanks to Kant for daring me to take you out." And this is actually a reference to the title. The Thai name of the series goes:

He hired me to flirt with a hitman เขาจ้างให้ผมจีบนักฆ่า [kăo - jâang - hâi - pŏm - jìip - nák-kâa] he - hire - that - I - hit on, flirt, woo - assassin

And this is what Style says:

[...] for hiring me flirt with you. [...] ที่จ้างกูมาจีบมึง [tîi - jâang - guu - maa - jìip - mueng] that - hire - I - come - hit on, flirt, woo - you

Style laughs and Fadel smiles, too, and then Style pulls the Heart Burger pin out of his pocket. Without a word, he carefully pins it onto Fadel's shirt while Fadel makes heart-eyes at him. It's a parallel to Fadel putting the pin on Style last episode. The ring pin exchange is complete. Style says "From now on, everything is yours." They're all but married. Style still has his hand on Fadel's chest by the pin. Fadel goes to grab it. They smile at each other. Then they turn and together they enter the restaurant, their restaurant, their shared future, hand in hand.

No. 12: Dinner With Mom

At night, when Fadel and Style are done at the ร้าน [ráan] (restaurant) they do go to Style's อู่ [ùu] (garage). And I love how Style immediately calls out that Fadel is here. Style is so excited to tell his dad the joyful news. But but before he has the chance to share his good news, he gets surprised with bad news instead. A dinner invitation.

Our foursome once again gets together to fight evil. And of course, the evil dinner invitation calls for an urgent outfit change for all four of them. They're greeted by two men holding out guns, and Style is a bit startled for a moment, but otherwise keeps calm. The men demand Fadel's and Bison's guns and the brothers hand them over. The men then walk into the dining room and the the four of them look at each other before following the men inside where Lilly is waiting for them together with Babe and Style's dad tied up on their chairs. Kant and Style immediately call out to their loved ones. In general, I just love how worried about his dad Style is throughout the entire scene and how he keeps checking and communicating with him. I actually made a whole separate post about this with lots of gifs where I really go into detail about it, because the relationship between Style and his dad really needs to be appreciated in all its glory in gifs and tumblr simply just has an image limit of 30 gifs per (desktop) post. I can't afford to spend like 20 of them on Style and his dad alone. It was already tricky enough to limit everything I wanted to showcase for this episode to only 30 images in the first place. Anyway. Back to the scene.

Once again Style finds himself in danger, and once again he mainly stays out of the conflict between the brothers and their mother. We also aren't shown Style's face that much, so we can only make guesses as to how he feels listening to Lilly monologuing on and on and Bison raging at her. Style probably feels worried, especially for his dad. We know this, because in the beginning of the scene, before everyone sat down at the table, Style was very fixated on his dad and you could tell that he wanted nothing more than to run over to him and check if his dad was unharmed. When everyone is sitting at the table, sometimes the camera cuts into a wideshot and while we only see the back of Style's head, we can tell that he's looking at Lilly, so I assume he's paying close attention to her words and actions.

At some point, Kant chimes in: "It was me who exposed you. I masterminded the whole thing. If you want to kill someone, kill me. Just let my brother go." Style immediately jumps on board: "Kant was right. Let my Dad go. He doesn't know anything. I don't care what you do to me." We already learned in episode 9 that Style is very much willing to give his own life for the people he loves and so it doesn't come as a surprise at all that he's willing to offer himself up for his dad. However, in comparison to episode 9 there now is a hint of uncertainty to Style's voice, because he really doesn't know Lilly and so he can't predict her actions and reactions unlike he could with Fadel in episode 9. Lilly laughs a mocking laugh while Style and his dad exchange glances. And I love that they exchange glances here, because, to quote from my other post:

i love that style is communicating with his dad again at this very point, because style offering himself up will also affect his dad. his dad might be physically fine if style trades his dad for himself, but emotionally the dad will be ruined if lilly takes his son's life, especially when he's already had to deal with the loss of his wife years ago. style being willing to sacrifice himself isn't nothing, in fact, it's a very big deal and so the two of them communicate about it

Lilly continues to monologue and announces she has some poisonous drinks prepared for the occasion. Style turns to his dad and says "Dad. I'm sorry." His dad had absolutely nothing to do with this, his dad is totally innocent and Style hates that his dad was pulled into this and that his dad's life is now in danger.

We then don't see any shot of Style at all while Fadel and Bison plead with their mother and offer to continue working for her. We don't get to see Style immediate reaction to Lilly's announcement that she'll let her sons and their boyfriends go if her sons give their brother-in-law and their father-in-law the poisoned drink. There is a long pause and it's only right before Lilly asks "Can you do that?" that the camera goes back to Style and we see there is shock and concern. Shit's getting real.

Fadel and Bison say yes, they can. Style is most definitely very worried right now, but to be honest, I don't feel like he's all that terrified, I think that's more of a secondary feeling. He watches closely as Fadel lifts the glass towards his dad lips, and Style is clearly anxious and agitated and maybe a little afraid, but he doesn't say a single word to stop Fadel and I think deep down he does trust Fadel not to kill his dad, trusts Fadel to find a way out with dad unscathed. After all they've been through, I think Style trusts Fadel not to cause him such great pain. Although I do think Style is ready to swap the glass out of Fadel's hand at any given moment. But Fadel pulls through. From one moment to the next Fadel throws the wine into his mother's minion's face, attacks him, and Bison follows his lead. Style and Kant jump up to free their family.

Fadel and Bison kill the henchmen without remorse and end up with Lilly at gunpoint. Kant calls out for Bison not to kill her and Style offers to call the cops. Now that the immediate danger is over, we get to see a little bit of that Style again who tries to mediate and solve conflicts with as few people coming to harm as possible. But Fadel orders him not to get the police involved, so Style drops his phone, still concerned and not entirely happy, but without further protest. Style, Kant, and their family watch the brothers poison Lilly without interrupting them.

And I kinda love we do get to see Style witness Fadel actually murdering someone, because in my ep5 meta I wrote this:

"I promise that no matter who you are, I'll still like you." And there it is. Style's decision. [...] Fadel doesn't believe [Style's] promise, though. "Words are cheap. I'll do that when you're ready. You can judge, then." Again, I think Fadel has a point. [...] Because yes, Style may say he'll like Fadel no matter his occupation, but Style still hasn't seen the killer in action. Fadel's words mean Decide whether you still like me or not only when you find out my real occupation before you promise anything as much as they mean Decide whether you still like me or not once you've actually seen me murder someone in front of you before you promise anything. Style has already made a decision about the former, but he is yet to make a decision about the latter.

And so I love that Style is now able to make the choice of loving Fadel having seen Fadel truly at his worst, having seen him murder someone in cold blood.

I know for this meta I focus purely on character analysis, and I don't really criticize (whether it's acting performances or script writing or directing or whatnot), but I do wish the series would have spent a little more time on this, on Style seeing Fadel kill. Because Style is clearly affected by what he is witnessing.

Something truly horrible is happening right in front of his eyes. And it's a shame that Style finally seeing the killer in action gets kind of just glossed over in the very next moment when "I'm a killer, I'm a bad person, you should be wary of me" "I love you anyway" has been such a big theme for these two. It's kinda weird that we go from Style looking this horrified to Style being happy and content in bed, as if nothing had happened. That kill doesn't even get mentioned again. I feel like you could jump from the scene in front of the diner straight to Fadel and Style in bed and not notice that any major traumatizing event has occurred in between. Ah well. Let's move on.

No. 13: 100%

We come back to Fadel and Style sitting in Style's bed at night. Fadel is wondering if he should change the restaurant's name and Style thinks it's fine as it is. But Fadel says he wants Style to be a part of it, too, so Style suggests "Just add an S and a heart" and I'm just thinking... So, Heart Burgers? Or Hearts Burger, since he talks about an additional heart? Or maybe the S in an entirely different position? Whatever name Style is thinking of, according to him with an added S and another heart it'll be a better version than Fadel's version, because:

Because you have another heart right here. เพราะมีหัวใจอีกดวงเพิ่มขึ้นมาอยู่ตรงนี้ไง [próh - mii - hŭua-jai - ìik - duuang - pêrm kêun - maa - yùu - dtrong níi - ngai] because - have - heart - another - [classifier] - increased - come - be - here - [particle] Official subs: With another heart, that is.

Fadel likes Style's idea. And before I move on, I just want to go into more depth about this little sequence for a moment: after Fadel explains that he's thinking of changing the name because he wants Style to be part of it, too, Style looks like he thinks about something for a moment before he says "I don't think it needs much change." Of course, in this moment he is thinking about what exactly could be changed if Fadel really does want to change something, but the thing is, Style already likes the restaurant the way it is. He doesn't necessarily need the restaurant to change if Fadel is changing it just because he thinks Style would want him to change it. It really reminds me of episode 6 and the theme of "Be who you want to be, not who someone else wants you to be". If the restaurant represents Fadel's life, Style already likes Fadel the way he is. But if Fadel does want to change, there is something important to do: he needs to add a S(tyle) to his life. And another heart (Style's heart). With that, it will make a much better version of Fadel's life than it was before. And Fadel actually agrees.

I can't help but think back to the last time they were in Style's bed at night, all the way back in episode 5. Back then, Fadel really struggled with sharing his life with Style and letting him come close. Now Fadel actively wants Style to be part of his life. Now that he's done being a hitman, the restaurant can finally be Fadel's life, but it's not his restaurant alone, it's theirs. Getting to be part of Fadel's life is something Style has desired for a long time now and has even fought and argued with Fadel over on multiple occasions, and now Style is finally granted his wish. Fadel is finally letting Style in. When Fadel agrees that a better version would be one with an added S(tyle), Style looks at Fadel for a moment and thinks about something again.

Style knows Fadel loves him. And that actually reminds him... Style turns to grab something off the shelf next to him and proudly presents it to Fadel. The key to Kant's car. It's finally Style's. And I know from a story crafting perspective it makes sense for Style to receive the car only at the very end, but it's still really funny to me that Style was given the car only now, when Fadel has without a doubt been head over heels in love with Style for the past five years already. Because Fadel was without a doubt already head over heels in love with Style before he went to prison. But however long it took, what really matters is that Style did get the car, because a deal is a deal. And Style did indeed succeed. "If I could make you fall crazy in love with me, I'd get his car." When Style says that, his voice is full of affection and there's also a bit of teasing. I know you're head over heels in love with me. But Fadel tells Style to give the key back to Kant:

Because I don't love you that much. เพราะกูไม่ได้รักมึงขนาดนั้น [próh - guu - mâi dâai - rák - mueng - kà-nàat nán] because - I - not - love - you - to that extent Official subs: I’m not in love with you like that.

Style wordlessly stares at Fadel for a second while he's processing those words, blinks, then lowers his head. Really now?

Fadel looks at him, a grin most definitely hidden in his eyes, then huffs and pointedly ignores Style. It's a challenge. Style puts down the car key. Challenge accepted. Because Style is not one to back down from a challenge. This personality trait has stayed consistent until the end of the series. Style turns to loom over Fadel. "Are you sure that you're not head over heels in love with me?" Because Style knows with unwavering certainty that Fadel is. He just needs Fadel to admit to it. I've already talked about how Fadel and Style hardly say "I love you" to each other. Style, the person who loves so fiercely and so passionately and so loudly, already rarely says it himself and Fadel says it even less. In fact, ever since they've started dating the only other time Fadel has said he loves Style since that one time Fadel directly said it the night he found out about the betrayal in episode 6 was in the kitchen in episode 11 when he said he wants to "do what I love with who I love" and even then he actually doesn't literally say the words I love you, but rather just implies it. If anything, Fadel likes to claim he isn't actually in love with Style. And so I think Style wants to hear Fadel say differently out loud for once, even if Fadel's actions speak louder than his words anyway.

But Fadel continues to ignore him. I think Fadel is waiting to see what Style will do in order to draw the words out of Fadel's mouth that Style so desperately wants to hear. It's like he's testing Style's persistence. Style kisses Fadel's cheeks and asks "How much do you love me?" But Fadel isn't giving in to Style that easily and that quickly. "Only 30%." He knows Style is chasing those 100%. Style ups the ante and kisses Fadel's neck. This is a game now. "How much do you love me?" Fadel says "60% now" and looks up at Style, waiting to see what Style's next move is going to be. This time, Style goes for the mouth, goes for a full make-out session even. Then Style asks again: "How much do you love me?" He grins at Fadel expectantly and he's definitely also a little bit satisfied and proud. Fadel doesn't reply immediately, just puts his hand on Style's face and looks at him for a moment. And then Fadel finally gives in and says "100%".

Again, this meta isn't supposed to be a review or a criticism piece on the story, but I do think it's a bit of a shame that the conversations about percentages wasn't about trust. Because I feel like the main question with them over the series wasn't really Does Fadel love Style? but rather Does Fadel trust Style? And trust was also the big theme of episode 5, the episode that Fadel and Style's game in episode 12 is a callback to: "A guy like me doesn't go trusting someone 100%." And a little later in episode 5, when they're in Style's bed, Style more or less opens the conversation with "Sometimes you make me feel so scared, and sometimes you make me feel so safe," which again is about trust, not love. This theme continues also in episode 8, when Fadel handcuffs Style to the bed, because "I don't trust you", not because he doesn't love Style. Episode 8 is all about Style trying to gain Fadel's trust again, not his love: "What do I have to do for you to trust me?" The episode 12 dialogue does work in a way, because Fadel did say he didn't love Style or didn't like him all that much multiple times over the course of the series, and he even makes a comment like that in this very scene that we're currently discussing. But the thing is, Style never actually believes Fadel whenever Fadel claims he doesn't love Style (that much) and Style even calls him out on his "I don't love you" claim in episode 8: "You might be good at cooking and shooting, but you're not very good at lying at all." Style never doubted that Fadel loved him, but trust has been a very big issue. In fact, trust also played a role only this very episode when Fadel was sulking at Style when Style couldn't come in to teach in prison. Because in episode 10 Fadel had told Style "I don't want to have any expectations just to be disappointed" and Fadel had trusted Style not to disappoint him, except then Style seemingly does disappoint him and that hurts Fadel ("I told you I don't like expectations because I don't want to be disappointed." [...] "Coming to see me regularly, getting me used to seeing you, making me miss you, and suddenly disappearing… How do you think that made me feel?"). It makes Fadel feel like he can't trust Style, not that he can't love Style. And the question in that scene is whether Fadel can trust Style to really be working on something for their future that Style can't share yet, it's not whether Style loves him. So yeah. I feel like the dialogue about the percentages would have been a much cleaner parallel/callback if it had been about Fadel trusting Style, not about Fadel loving Style. Because we all, including Style, know that Fadel has always loved Style. He just didn't always trust him. But now he does. 100%. Style once decided "One day, I'll be your 100%" and now he is. They celebrate that by making out some more.

When they part again, Style tells Fadel "You know what? Having you is worth more than winning that car" and I'm filled with satisfaction upon hearing that, because I said more or less exactly the same thing three episodes ago in my ep9 meta:

[I]t's actually kinda funny, because Style agreed to make Fadel his boyfriend, but it's been how many episodes since they've started dating?? And we have yet to see Style with said car. [...] [A]s of episode 6 it was Kant who was still in possession of the car, despite Style and Fadel being head over heels in love by that point [...]. Style may have gone into it for the car, but he never actually took the car and by now the car is long forgotten. I didn't go and check, but as far as I remember Style hasn't even brought the car up to Kant ever since that scene in episode 4 where he initially came to claim it. At this point, Style would much rather have Fadel than the car anyway.

(Bolded for emphasis)

Now please forgive me if I skip the rest of the love scene, but I do want to get this post done before the end of the month, if possible. I think the main take-away is that now they both very much want each other and are very much into it, with nothing holding either one of them back.

No. 14: Driving Into the Sunset

Of course their last scene would be of them driving into the (metaphorical) sunset together in Kant's car that Style has finally won. Fadel and Style check in with Kant and Bison in Iceland. After the call, Fadel asks if Style would also like to go on a trip. Obviously Style wants to. "I usually travel with my Dad. Never done it with my boyfriend before," Style says, at which point, upon me showing my language buddy and Thai language consultant this scene, he goes "...the kidnapping, though?" and I break into laughter, because my friend is right. Yeah, Style, what do you mean you've never gone on a trip with your boyfriend? *gestures at episodes 8 and 9* Right, wots all this then?

I mean, technically you could argue that during that time Fadel wasn't actually Style's boyfriend, but let's be real, Style never got that memo. Or rather he went I recognize that the Council has made a decision. But given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it.

Anyway, whether it'll be their first trip, their second trip, or their hundredth trip, I don't think Style will ever say no to traveling with Fadel. Fadel suggests planning a trip later and then, at the mention of Style's dad, asks how Style's dad is taking the news of Fadel being an ex-assassin and ex-prisoner. I do think Style's dad is genuinely chill with it, but once again I wish the series would have dwelled just a little bit more on the aftermath of the Lilly incident and on how it affected everyone involved. Because it was quite a traumatic and brutal incident, and it's a bit jarring how everyone is all sunshine and rainbows from one second to the next. But for the sake of this meta and the next line, I'll just assume that everyone, including Style's dad, worked through it all off-screen. Style says that his dad is totally okay with it, because "He said I need someone with a past like yours to tie me down." The Thai wording is slightly different, actually:

My dad said someone like me needs to meet someone with a history like yours. พ่อกูอ่ะ บอกว่าคนอย่างกูต้องเจอคนมีประวัติแบบมึง [pôh guu - àh • bòhk - wâa - kon - yàang - guu - dtông - jer - kon - mii - bprà-wàt - bàep - meung] my dad - [particle] • say - that - person - like - me - have to, need to - meet - person - have - history - like - you

I like that in the original phrasing it doesn't state the "to tie me down" part. The Thai line leaves it up to the viewer's interpretation as to why exactly Style would need someone with a past like Fadel's. Personally, I took it in a "Style needs someone fucked up enough to be able to stand and handle and appreciate all of Style's unhingedness". And I don't necessarily think that Fadel would actively try to tie Style down, since Style's shameless loudness and Style's ability to unabashedly be himself and say things without a filter is exactly what Fadel loves him for. I think Fadel tying Style down ("taming" him *wink wink*) happens more as a byproduct of both of them influencing each other and changing into better versions of themselves when they're together.

The words of Style's dad make Fadel laugh. Then he says: "You know, I still remember what I promised your dad before I went to jail." Style looks over to him and asks "What did you promise?" Style smiles and I see both joy as well as curiosity on his face.

I think Style knows exactly what promise Fadel is referring to, but he's dying to hear the words out loud out from Fadel's mouth. His expression is also very expectant, almost challenging when he's done speaking. The little head tilt afterwards is almost like he's saying Pray do tell. Fadel replies: "I told him I'd go talk to him after five years." As I said, I think Style knew what the promise was, but I think actually hearing Fadel say it still gives him a thrill and causes butterflies in his tummy. He looks over to Fadel in pure delight.

And I love, love, LOVE that Fadel was the one to bring it up first. Because at some point after episode 8, when there were so many references to a FadelStyle marriage and I seriously started thinking about the possibility of a canon FadelStyle wedding or at least a wedding proposal (lmao joke's on me rip), I was contemplating about who of the two would propose first and who I'd prefer to do so. And I thought Style proposing would fit with his personality, especially since he himself said "I could spring a ring on you one day and just ask you to marry me." It seemed fit that the series would end with Style doing exactly just that. But then I contemplated some more and thought, actually, I would love it if Fadel was the one to propose. Because in the series it's always Style who is chasing Fadel, it's always Style proving over and over again that he really wants Fadel in his life while Fadel spends the majority of the series pushing Style away (and Fadel does it again even in the finale when he's mad at Style during year 4!). And I thought that it would probably mean the world to Style if Fadel proposed. Because it would showcase that Fadel wants Style in his life just as much as Style wants Fadel in his life. It would show Style that the feeling is mutual, that Fadel wants it for himself, too. That a marriage isn't something Fadel agreed to just because Style asked for it or talked him into it or anything like that. Fadel proposing would show Style that Fadel is choosing Style out of his own free will the way Style has been choosing Fadel over and over again. I'm once again reminded of @braceletofteeth's tags on this post:

#Style wants Fadel to claim him as his so bad it makes him look stupid #just like he takes pride in choosing his own man #he would be proud to be chosen as Fadel's man #delighted‚ if Fadel let others (and Style) know he's the one who earned the space reserved for his special someone #in his heavily secured heart #if he was so special to Fadel that he wouldn't want him to be taken away #or to share him with anyone else

Fadel asking for Style's hand in marriage, Fadel marrying Style would be Fadel claiming Style, it would be Fadel making an announcement to the world that Style is his and his alone. It would be Fadel choosing Style and Style would even have a ring to prove it. To prove that he is Fadel's. To prove that Fadel is his. I just thought Fadel being the one to propose would mean the world to Style. And judging by the joy in Style's face in the above gif, it absolutely does mean the world to him. That Fadel is the one to bring up the prospect of marriage.

Style asks if Fadel is serious and Fadel says yes, he is, but that he wants to have the chat only once the restaurant is up and running again (at least that's how I interpreted this statement). Style says "No need to hurry." He most definitely wants to marry Fadel one day, but I think he's got a point with this. After all, it's only now that they can finally start dating "properly", can finally experience the couple life with both of them out of prison, all cards out in the open, both parties trusting and loving each other mutually, and most importantly, without fearing for their lives. "No need to push yourself. After everything that we've been through, still staying together is already beyond anything we expected." Their relationship really is chill the way it is, there is no need to rush anything. They can get married when they both feel the time is right for it. I think that's what Style is getting at here. Fadel agrees. Then he says "I thought I'd die alone." Style knows that well. They discussed this last episode by the gravestone. And back then, Style had already announced that he wouldn't let Fadel get lonely in death. Now he says: "We'll die one day, but we'll die together of old age." They're gonna have that old man yaoi future together.

Fadel laughs, claims Style is cheesy, but still plants a big kiss on Style's lips. Uhhhh, Fadel, so what about the lecture you gave Style about safe driving the first time you guys met? All of that goes right out of the window as Style and Fadel continue to plant kisses on each other. How's that for character growth?

And off they drive into the night. Style's got both the car of his dreams as well as the man of his dreams. What more could Style want?

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8 | Ep9 | Ep10 | Ep11)

[urstruly-ghst]

the challenge - rook hunt !

in which the challenge you set out for is now in full swing (inspired by epic: the musical with the song, the challenge).

authors note: epic the musical my beloved. i love love love this request submitted by @padf-0-ot ! thank you for waiting; im sorry it took a while, im managing tho

requested ask !

cw: may not understand if you don't know the context of epic/the odyssey

rook hunt

wearing the crown was a heavy responsibility, it had been placed on you since you were born. it was what came to be with the blood you hone beneath your skin. however, that duty carried was always alleviated with rook by your side. he was the one who made your crown a secod thought, contrary to what you grew up with.

but, it soon occured to you it would be heavy on your head once more; rook hunt was lost in a mission, it was supposed to end quickly, but he didn't return. neither did his comrades. there was no word, no letter, not even a sign from any other kingdom. that worried you, that worried the kingdom. each one of your subjects looked at the empty throne beside you, sharing that worry and fear (or perhaps, they all share the glory of seeing you reign alone.)

each men rally up, their thoughts of ascending to the social ranks clouded their empathy. the suitors know how grievous it must be to be alone, holding onto the hope that rook was not dead, but they also seem not to care. there was no king, no one to share your burdens, surely you'd want company?

no matter their attempts to take the throne, you'd stall. it was an array of stalling, you used up every excuse you can try. first it was grief, second was the state was in a crisis, and now.... they've grown impatient. it has been years, yet the throne gets colder as the king fails to return or send a sign. will he ever return?

"i refuse!" you yell as the council all stare. it was you who had the power, why was the council allowing such arrangements to happen?they sat in front of you, the crown, and begged for you to marry a suitor.

how dare they ask that from you? after all your work to keep the crisis at bay, they repay you with a torturous task?

"your majesty, this is what would further benefit our kingdom. you have stalled long enough." the eldest council proclaimed as they showcased data and news from the kingdom. morale is low. especially after the storm that struck your shores.

you glare as you saw the undeniable problem and the solution was clear as day. you couldn't hold onto the thrown nor the crisis forever, but...

you had hope. rook hunt was out there, you could feel it in your bones. there was no way he'd be dead. the council looks at you, waiting on your next word, your plan.

"i have one more challenge. this is the last one. bring me to the armory." you say as you surrendered. but even if you surrendered, you wouldn't allow them, not even for a second, to think they had their wishes granted.

---

you glare as you held your husband's bow as the guards open the gates to your throne room. the suitors chattered amongst themselves but soon silenced as they saw you enter.

"this here is my husband's bow." you say as you raised the bow, it was sturdy, comically large, and a symbol of his prowess. "it has long snapped, but none can restring it. my challenge is this,"

you unveil the axes that were lined up, "whoever strings this bow, and shoot through these axes cleanly..." you hesitate, "will became the new king, my new husband"

"that's what those were for" one suitor said, "it doesn't make sense!" the other proclaimed

the mumurs were loud, each suitor boasting or complaining over the challenge, you glare at them as you see them scramble to get to the bow.

among the crowds was your husband, rook, who stood silent by the pillars. rook laughed at how gullible these men were to believe that they can even string the bow. it takes a wit of the hunt's to know how to string it, it was a family heirloom. it curved weirdly, deceiving those who do not know to string it properly.

but he watched, in amusement. it was all their efforts that made it a comedy. rook watched each suitor try and try as they struggled to even get the string on the end of the bow. rook watched as each suitor soon gave up on even the bow, feeling the dismay build up. in his ragged clothes, rook hid in the shadows noting every weakness and strengths of each man.

“such a shame, these men seem to lack the knowledge to know a deception” rook muttered in sadness as he circled around them. the last suitor dropped the bow and screamed in the room,

“screw this competition. don’t you see we’re being played?!” it was an outraged yell as they point at the throne room, as if they’re trying to yell at you for this competition. and by virtue, they were being played, rook can appreciate this from the man. At the very least, one man knew his queen’s wit. 

as the suitors gather around feeling they’re now understanding the consequences of their foolish parade around the bow, rook swiftly takes the bow and strings it with ease. unknown to him, rook was being watched by the sidelines. you were there, seeing him in silence, not recognizing him and had your heart beat in anticipation as the bow was being strung.

thwack! 

the arrow flew gracefully to the end, hitting the target on the wall. the chatter died down, as the riot that was bubbling over ended. the arrow stabbed firmly on the end of the target, it made the suitors shut up. rook revealed his identity by letting his hood and shadow go, revealing a disheveled man who’s eyes were tired but victorious.

“mon dieu! it was painful to watch this challenge be failed by my country’s men, it is a simple test of wit.” rook smiled as he waved the strung bow, and the men were confused, it looked so normal in the king’s hand. 

“how?!” one yelled, the others were scrambling trying to see if this was a trick, did he hide the other bow? who was he? how dare he win the challenge!

“rook?” you whisper as you open the throne room, the light shining brightly.

“mon amour.” rook replied with a smile. 

[thelonestarinthesky]

⁸. ⁿᵒ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ

⁺₊✦₊　　

pairing: senku x f!reader

chapter 8 of 2/2- i. senku

⁺₊✦₊　　

Taiju and Yuzuriha noticed that Senku had grown quiet sometimes, sometimes pausing in between conversations about what he was working on, staring ahead in the distance before talking again.

He had only grown more frustrated since [Name] hadn't shown any signs of waking up and he's been itching to get the bottom of it. She was fine a day before their anniversary, laughing and smiling cheerfully, and had no signs of any coma-related symptoms. Then, the next day, she was in a coma with no explanation that even the medical staff could explain.

"What's her name?" Yuzuriha asked him quietly; the [Name] ]-like doll was quietly writing a few formulas for him on the bed.

"She doesn't have one. Although she knows my name, [Name] must have programmed her to know everything about me." Senku says arms crossed as he watches Taiju poke the doll machine swatting his hand away.

"Master Senku said I need to finish this before the day ends." The little robot resembling [Name] says, annoyed at Taiju, who keeps poking her cheek.

"She's so human-like, you can't even tell she's an android." The brown-haired boy says Senku kept staring at the small android; it's not tall, it barely reaches his knees, and it can fly in the air with no problem.

To him, seeing an android this advance is mesmerizing and just heart-aching.

[Name] was supposed to give the small android to him directly, not Byakuya; he had learned from the recorded messages played by the android that this was supposed to be his anniversary gift from her.

This android, who resembles his girlfriend, was supposed to be his assistant if she couldn't be there.

"....the best name it can have is naming it after its creator." He says as Yuzuriha looks back at him, she smiles sadly at this.

"Little [Name]."

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

Senku and Little [Name] stared down at what they had just done, the little android leaning in as Senku looked dejected.

"No! No, it looks nice!" She tries to cheer him up, clearly panicking. "Ooooh, you should definitely become a hair stylist!"

"I've never seen a perfectly cut bang!" She says, sweating.

Senku groans, rubbing his face, refusing to look at his own terrible actions. [Name]'s hair had obviously gotten longer during her coma and he thought it would be a good idea to trim and keep her hair neat. But he screwed up badly.

He slowly looks down at her face; her right eye is covered by her bangs, while the rest of her bangs are cut so poorly. He thought he could do a clean-cut but messed up halfway through.

"She's going to kill me." He whispered, pale.

"Don't worry Master Senku, we'll fix it." The android holds up the scissors again, but he holds her back. "N...no, we should probably stop before we make it worse."

—

Yuzuriha squeals. Happily, she had hogged Little [Name] for the day, and now the two were having a small fashion show.

"Aw, you look cute in anything!" She says, her eyes sparkling in inspiration to make new clothes.

.

"Let me down! I can't give you advice about confessing your undying love for Yuzuriha! I'm an assistant for Master Senku, not you!?" Little [Name] shouts angrily as Taiju carries her under his arms, clearly not flinching as the girl squirms around to get away.

"Master Senku, help!!"

.

Senku stared at Little [Name], who was happily eating a piece of warm bread. She didn't need to eat, but he did it out of habit; although she was an android, she resembled a human. Plus she enjoyed eating sweets.

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

It's been a year, Senku being 16 now but [Name] remained in her eternal sleep. Unfortunately, her father moved her to a private hospital because her coma-like state was leaked to the media and Yuzuriha had caught someone from the media inside [Name]'s hospital room, let in by bribing a nurse.

"Sorry it took so long to go get the cake; the nurses had it in their staff room," Yuzuriha says, placing the cake on the table beside the bed.

"It's been a year huh?" She says quietly, the room was quiet, besides the machines keeping [Name] alive; the doctors had officially declared her brain dead a couple of days ago due to her situation never improving. It was hard on everyone when the doctors suggested preparing for the worst, taking [Name] off life support.

Of course, her father had immediately shot the idea down, saying he was paying good money for the doctors to find what caused this whole thing when she was fine; she should've been fine.

"She's going to wake up, kids." Byakuya says, trying to lighten the mood, "It might take a couple more weeks or months, but I have a feeling no one in this room is going to give up on her."

Yuzuriha wipes her eyes, pumping her fist. "Right! [Name] is going to come back, I know it."

"Yeah! Or else Senku is going to become a widow and be sad all his life!" Taiju says, copying Yuzuriha's enthusiasm.

Byakuya laughs at this, wrapping his arm around Senku's neck, "That's right, kids; my future daughter-in-law is going to wake up and marry our dear Senku!"

Yuzuriha and Taiju agreed at this; Senku stared down at the peaceful face of [Name], one of his hands holding onto her limp hand.

His expression was unreadable, eyes gazing down at his girlfriend with such tenderness but a hint of sadness. He wouldn't say his feelings out loud, but everyone could tell from his silence.

After Taiju and Yuzuriha had left a couple hours later, Byakuya was cleaning up the room when Senku spoke up.

"Take Little [Name] with you to space," Senku says, surprising Byakuya, but the look on Senku's face made it hard for him to say no to his son's wish.

"Let [Name]'s android go to space with you."

Byakuya only sighed and smiled at him, "All right."

.

Swnku sat beside the hospital bed, his hands rubbing the back of [Name]'s hand gently, in his hand, his phone, watching the live stream of Byakuya getting ready to enter the spaceship to take him and the other two people to space.

"Looks like the old man is finally going to space, [Name]." He spoke to the [H/C] haired girl.

The live broadcast is Byakuya taking the microphone from the woman reporter, who looks flustered upon seeing him.

"Senku! I know you're not the type to watch a broadcast like this but...I swear I'll bring back a ton of scientific souvenirs for you and bring Little [Name] safe and sound!" Byakuya says, grinning at the camera while Sebku lets out a laugh at this.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up already." He says, smiling slightly at the screen of his phone.

"You hear that, [Name]? Your creation is going to be back soon, and so is the old man; he's been pretty lonely without, too, so wake up already." He gently flickers the girl's forehead before sighing, burying his face in his arms on the bed.

"....just wake up already," Senku mumbles to himself. "..or give me a sign that you're not really brain dead."

Silence was his only answer and has been for the last year. 

3 days later, all of humanity was turned to stone by a mysterious green light. 

taglist- @frootloopscos @itsnotsh1v4n1 @lovingyeet @kazuubaby @awwwia @foulbreadpaenut @verysanebsdfan @the-wild-tomato @copycat-namjesus @arimakanav @cchuisme