#can you tell I’ve been thinking about Frank a lot

[fourmula1]

max/daniel. 606 words. franz and frank hermann.

-

It took awhile to figure out the time difference and nail down something that worked for both of them, but when the Facetime call connected and Daniel’s smiling, bearded face filled his screen, Max felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders.

Daniel’s big, beautiful, perfect smile was the balm Max needed for the stressful race season he was having.

“Congrats on Imola, mate,” Daniel said, beaming. He was outside somewhere on the farm, looking golden and rested and both like the same old Daniel but also something entirely new. His face was fuller, the beard bushier, but the smile was more real.

“Ah yeah, congrats to Frank. His brother Franz sends his regards,” Max laughed, bright and happy and comfy in his living room.

He watched Daniel on screen, watched his smile flicker in a way most might not notice, but Max did.

“What?” Max asked, shifting a bit in the sofa and holding his phone a. it closer, as if he could maybe see Daniel’s thoughts. On screen, Daniel’s eyes glanced to something out of frame, darting for a moment before he cast his eyes down. “Daniel, what is it?”

“Maxy. What if…” Daniel started. Max watched him swallow, nervous. “What if maybe they. If Franz and Frank. What if they were actually married. Not brothers.”

Max’s heart fell into his stomach. He felt his lungs squeeze. Felt like he might black the fuck out.

What if?

What if Max’s every fantasy of the last ten years came true?

“Probably Daniel I think that this of course is the best idea you’ve had in a long time,” Max says, unable to help the way his own smile is blooming, his cheeks no doubt blushed pink the way Daniel often teases him for.

They’re not and have never been anything but friends. They’ve never so much as kissed, but Max knows that both of them have been with men before. It was never more than friendship between them; as much as Max had wanted it to be he was scared of losing the connection they had and just never made a move for it.

But they’d always had chemistry. They’d always had love for each other. There’d always been an ease of it just working, between them. Max loved Daniel in so many ways and having the connection they did was enough.

But he’d never deny that he’d wanted more.

“Been thinking about it. You.” Daniel’s smile is softer now. At ease. Soft and gentle and sweet, pure, Daniel. “I reckon I’ve had a lot of time to do a lot of thinking and it just seems like what’s supposed to happen.”

“I do!” Max says, grinning when Daniel bursts out a laugh. It’s music to Max’s ears.

“I think you have to wait for a minister to ask if you take me to be your lawful wedded husband first,” Daniel cackles and Max doesn’t care.

Husband. Daniel could be Max’s husband.

“It’s preemptive! I do! Tell me when and i’ll be there!”

He can’t.. or maybe can, really, believe how easy this is. It’s yes. The answer is yes. Even if there hasn’t technically been a question. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

“I think I’ll come to Canada,” is what Daniel says and Max nods. It’s perfect. Daniel won his first race there. Canada lets two men in love get married.

Max could be Daniel’s husband in less than a month.

What feels like a lifetime of wanting, but a settled acceptance of being grateful for what he had, and Max doesn’t need even a moment to think about it.

Yes.

[sweetest-honeybee]

Hello there, Question. Did Frank become a serial killer in the crime au because Julie was murdered and the killer was never found? The idea popped up in my head when I was about to sleep and I thought it was awesome and depressing at the same time.

…Julie is very much alive and well and works with Wally 😂

However I’m taking this opportunity to ramble about why Frank got into killing bc I have lots of thoughts that have been rattling around for a while c:

I like to think at a young age (roughly 17-18), someone he knew did an awful thing that impacted his life so badly that he didn’t deem prison enough of a sentence. The impact being the loss of a friend of family member, someone incredibly important, and it started this downward spiral

Until then, he was a straight A student of course, not overly social but pleasant to have around. And one day he put all of his focus into making sure the person that was responsible would be dead. And he was successful, though got out of being locked up for it by sheer luck (doesn’t mean he hasn’t been arrested a good handful of times)

After that though, started getting into fights at school. Full blown matches that ended in his opponents often being hospitalized. He started getting picked on when his grades dropped and he got quieter and more aggressive. Miraculously wasn’t expelled but just barely graduated

The early adult years were where he got into more and more thought out murders. Observing and taking notes and learning things about people he’d hear about in the news. See where they lived, who they knew, and how to get them alone

Fast forward to about the age of 24 or so, he decided that the best way to get more information quicker and simultaneously deal with shitty people on the spot when he could was getting into police work. Through that picked up a love for investigations, and eventually dipping into forensic analysis stuff

Him and Eddie do very much get married but god it took so long for Frank to tell him about anything that happened when he was a bit younger. Barnaby knew though, both as his employer and reading up on previous arrests, but Frank did admit it to him at some point. As far as Barnaby is aware, Frank isn’t outright aggressive to the point of hospitalizing people to his colleagues and most criminals and is genuinely making his life better and trying to be nicer and more social

And he’s wrong of course, I’m like 99% sure Frank “accidentally” gave Eddie a broken nose on Eddie’s 3rd day and Frank cycled through like 8 different partners at this point who don’t wanna work with him 😂 But Barnaby likes him too much not to fire him. He just moves Frank somewhere where he can’t fling a coffee mug at someone’s face

[itspileofgoodthings]

my seniors have been so quiet all year and it’s been fine cause we’ve had a lot of writing/research to do but I need them to talk to me now so i was hit by a bolt of inspiration two days ago and I made them all tell me their comfort level with sharing aloud, rating themselves on a scale of 1-10. I then averaged the class score and they’re a 4.5. I then told them yesterday we needed to raise the score the tiniest bit. And the 1’s and 2’s didn’t need to be 10’s just maybe 3’s and 4’s. And they tried! They talked more 😭

[markrosewater]

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

[cosmal]

red solo cup — send me an au + a character n i’ll write u a blurb ie rockstar!sirius rugby!james bartender!eddie

omg rugby!james I’ve missed him!! what about him introducing you to the team for the first time at an after party or something 😋

pints

summary james introduces you to his rugby mates over a few pints. your nerves go unwarranted, his friends are hilarious.

content james potter x reader, she/her pronouns used,

note mal and i being number one rugby!james fans always

You think if you spin the ring on your finger any longer, it’ll burn a mark into your skin. You’re so nervous you could throw up. You hope the uber driver is met with every red light there is.

James grabs your hand and puts it in his lap. “Darling,” he squeezes you twice, “what’s the matter?”

You’re not sure if you’re bad at steeling yourself or if James knows you like the back of his hand. Maybe both. “Hmm?” You play dumb.

“You won’t stop fiddling.” He smiles something sympathetic and doubles down. “Take a deep breath.”

You do as he says, mostly because you like being bossed around a little bit, more so because your throat burns with nerves. You hate being read for filth.

“Jamie,” You don’t know how to tell him without sounding pathetic, “what if they hate me?”

“Who?” He laughs. You despise him a little bit for it, your nerves aren’t a laughing matter. Are you being stupid?

“Your friends.”

He laughs some more and then he stops because you don’t join. You smile but you can tell you look silly.

He squeezes your hand in both of his now and leans in until his seatbelt is taut. “Baby, no.” He’s still smiling, he definitely thinks you’re stupid. “I’m sorry. Sorry. They won’t hate you.”

“They might.”

“They won’t.”

The uber pulls up and you both thank him before clambering out of his car. You fix your skirt and wonder if you’re overdressed. Or underdressed. You don’t know a lot about Jamie’s friends, only things he’s told you here and there since you started seeing each other.

James stands in front of you before you move inside and puts his hands on your waist. His fingers spread over your linen shirt and it bunches up in the back.

“They won’t hate you,” he says. You know he’s serious, obviously he is, but all you can think about is how badly you could screw this up. “Seriously. What’s there to hate? You’re amazing.”

“Okay.” You nod and he takes you by the hand.

When you’re inside the pub, pint in hand, James takes you to find his teammates that have shown up already. You hear a whistle and then an “Oi!”

You both turn around. “Sirius!” James shouts.

You follow closely behind as you both make your way over to their table. A few of his teammates crowd the table. You can’t help it, but you keep yourself to the side of James unthinkingly.

James says hello and then it’s your turn.

“This is my lovely girlfriend, Y/N!” James looks proud, happy that it’s you he’s introducing. It’s gives you an ounce of confidence you so desperately need.

“Hello!” You’ve always been good at hiding your nerves. You think it’s how you bagged James.

A tall, lanky, sandy-haired boy reaches out and shakes your hand. He smiles warmly, smelling of lager and crisps. “Lovely to meet you. I’m Remus.”

“We call him Moony,” James butts in.

“Hi.” You smile just as kindly and hope your hands aren’t too sweaty.

“Sirius.” His friend leans in again. He puts his pint down and its splashes on the table. “The better looking player for The Marauders.” He gives you a hug. You’re not sure if he’s drunk or if this is just him. You’ve heard a few things, still you laugh because he’s funny either way.

“Sirius…” James elbows his friend in the side.

“What?!” Sirius guffaws. “I'm not sure how he's scored you."

"Sirius, please sit down."

You laugh at him, you've gone a little red and James looks half incensed. "I need you to be normal, just for once please."

"I'm always normal!" He sits back down in his chair and you and James follow suit. "If anyone needs to be normal it's Frank."

"I haven't said a word!" You're assuming it's Frank who pipes up. "I'm sorry, it's lovely to meet you."

You smile over the top of your drink and James squeezes your leg.

"So," You worry about what Sirius is going to say next, "have you seen James sleep walk yet?"

You gasp, "What! Oh my god I didn't know you did that?"

"I don't-"

"One time," Sirius leans in, you lean in too, giggling, "we were in Cornwall, right after we graduated."

"Please don't, oh my god."

"Oh, please do." You snort. James drops his head into his hands.

"James had gone to bed early and we were still up drinking. He came downstairs, naked, asking us where the toilet was."

You almost spit your drink out. You laugh so hard you almost feel bad for poor James. He steels himself and tries his hardest not to seem embarrassed. Drinking his lager like his cheeks aren't a worse shade of red than before.

"Jamie," You lean into his side and wrap an arm around his back, "I'm sorry honey, but that's hilarious."

All the boys are laughing - James is too but he's trying to hide it with his hands over his mouth.

"I'd had a lot to drink that night," James defends himself.

"I've been scarred ever since! That thing between your legs-"

"Okay! Enough, enough." James finally snaps. All of the boys burst into fits of laughter, holding their stomachs. "I have awful friends. Awful."

"I'm sorry, it really is a right of passage." Remus jokes.

"Well, you should see Sirius after smoking too much-"

"Okay! Another round on me?" Sirius stands abruptly from the table.

You think you were being a little silly, James's friends are great.

[demonic0angel]

Thoughts while Reading Red Hood Comics (click for clarity)

To be frank, I only read all issues of Red Hood: the Lost Days, issues 1-12 of the first volume of Red Hood and the Outlaws, and then 1-26 of the second volume of RHATO. So here is what I’ve been thinking and drawing as I read them.

*SPOILERS*

1) I made Artemis a suit that could be used of she was working with Jazz and Jason as Wolf and Red Hood in their gang, with a helmet that covered her identity. However, I might remake it bc I’m not happy with it.

2) I was inspired to draw an outfit with a blend of fashion styles while reading RHATO 2nd vol., issues 7-11. I, of course, drew Jazz as the subject.

3) Chibi Starfire and Wraith for no particular reason.

4) Why did I read all of this? So I could figure out Jason’s timeline during the period of time where he was resurrected so I could use it for Pokémon AU. You may judge me, but be glad I’m doing research!!

5) I remember drawing Kori in her imagined full suit and I was worried that it was too revealing. After reading RHATO, my version of her looks like she's going to church 💀 I did, however, loved the scenes where she got wet/injured bc it was cool asf to see her fire hair being weakened like that.

6) I kept wondering how I was gonna fit Jazz into all of the timeline with this new knowledge, but I think she’d come a little bit after RHATO and the contents of Jason’s journey would probably shift a lot in order to accommodate a DP crossover. However, I wanted to create a space suit for Jazz anyways, as inspired by RHATO issue 12 from the first volume.

7) Legit gagged and wanted to kms when I saw Talia kiss Jason in the comics (ladies, please!!! Bat Dick cannot be this good!!!) but I loved the scenes where she's absolutely terrified of Jason. I thought it was so interesting how everyone feared him, even if it's honestly a load of glazing nonsense.

8) I hated how RHATO characterized Kori, but I kept wondering what would happen if a better version of her (not the RHATO version) and Dan met. I think in a weird way, they'd be really good friends for various reasons. To Dan, Kori reminds him of Jazz and to Kori, she can tell that he is a hurting soul that needs a friend. I also imagine that with Tamaranean customs and ghost culture (the phanon hc that fighting/touch being a big deal in the ghost zone), I think they'd be super fun together. Also, hot and cold?? Orange and green?? Hero and villain?? Like hello?? Is no one seeing the yin and yang going on???

9) I really, really, really wanted to draw a Red Hood plush that is inspired by the Enderman from the Minecraft Cuutopia plushy series. He is squishy and marketable.

10) Isabel is super cute but holy shit, girl, STAND UP!! The way she's written is also ridiculous bc of the amount of plot holes and characterization? To be frank, it's extremely strange that she remembers the 15 year old boy on ONE airplane ride several years ago (especially when she was probably 19+ years old!!), that she would flirt with another passenger (and Jason specifically, like the writers tried to glaze him so much that it was just 😟), and that she'd STILL flirt with him when he tells her that he's going to a funeral. Girl. You're too cute for this. Please raise your standards!!

Conclusion, RHATO the 2nd volume was pretty enjoyable and RH: Lost Days is interesting. RHATO the first volume was hot garbage, but what kept me going for a little while was this one line from a review about RHATO #8: " It makes me wonder if her bed is the final sight on the tour, wink wink cough puke." which made me CACKLE LIKE OMG 💀💀

[chvoswxtch]

secrets

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: in the aftermath of your fight with frank, you get more than one unexpected visitor.

warnings: swearing, lots & lots & lots of angst

word count: 4.4k

a/n: it's getting juicyyyy. friendly reminder y'all voted for a double drop this week, so chapter twenty one is coming this friday. enjoy. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

“You keep frownin’ like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles.”

Lifting your focused gaze from your computer screen to the source of a familiar voice, the creases etched along your forehead deepened at the sight of Billy standing in your office doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands tucked into the pockets of his perfectly tailored suit pants and that signature vain smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too, darlin’.”

Billy let out a dry chuckle, crossing the threshold over towards your desk in just a few quick strides. Leaning over your desk, Billy stretched his hand out to brush his thumb along the space between your eyebrows, effectively smoothing out the crinkles of concentration coupled with confusion. The gesture caught you off guard, and you blinked a few times in surprise as Billy unbuttoned the middle button on his dark gray suit jacket before sitting down in the chair in front of your desk.

“There, that’s better. Now, how ‘bout you at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

Billy arched one of his dark brows, that same smirk still gracing the edge of his lips in a silent tease. Looking over at him, it occurred to you that there always seemed to be some hint of mischief lingering in his deep espresso tinted eyes. Leaning back in your chair and folding your arms over your chest, you gave him a pointed look.

“What can I do for you, Billy?”

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine today.”

“I could be worse, if you’d like.”

Billy’s lips split into a full blown grin, and he let out an amused chuckle at the sass dripping from your dry reply.

“Nah, I’ve seen you pissed. I’d prefer to stay on your good side, sweetheart. You wanna tell me what’s got you in such a pleasant mood this mornin’?”

Being around Billy just made you think about Frank, and thinking about Frank only reminded you of the fact that the two of you weren’t in a good place right now. He swore to you the night you confronted him that he was going to wrap this job up as quickly as he could, but that meant he had to devote all of his time to it, which resulted in him being around even less than he had been last month. 

Two weeks had passed since you’d last seen Frank in person. When you woke up in his bed the morning after you’d shown up at his apartment to confront him, he was already gone. He’d left a note on his pillow saying that he would call you soon, but that call didn’t come for four days, and neither one of you had much to say. You thought hearing his voice after being apart for a while would make you feel better about the whole situation, grant you some sense of relief or jumpstart a spark of acceptance you couldn’t find beforehand, but it only made you even more pissed off about what was happening.

And then the call you had with him two days ago really set you off.

Frank had been trying to keep the conversation light, and there was an apologetic tone to his gruff voice, but you couldn’t bite your tongue. The more you sat alone with the vague explanation he had given you, the more his promise of reassurance felt like fraud. You drew blood first, like you always did, but after a round of back and forth passive aggressive exchanges, Frank lost his own temper and went on the defense.

“For Christ’s sake, what else you want me to say, huh? How many other ways I gotta apologize?”

“We shouldn’t even be in this situation right now, Frank-”

“Yeah, well we are, and you’re gonna have to find a way to deal with it cause it ain’t changin’ any goddamn time soon.”

Frank’s aggressive retort only incensed you further. The stress of the current job combined with the growing rift between the two of you eroded his patience into raw frustration, and you were matching his verbal lashes blow for blow.

“Just deal with it? Just deal with you being away and hiding things from me?”

“That’s the job sometimes, alright? You know first hand the kinda shit I gotta do. You know what my world’s like. I told you I was gonna do what I could to get this handled as soon as possible-”

“But this isn’t your normal job, Frank! Stop using that as a fucking excuse. You’ve never had to disappear to God only knows where before, and you’ve never kept secrets from me-”

“Oh for fucks sake. You think that’s what I’m doin’? Makin’ excuses? That’s bullshit and you know it. I told you what I could-”

“And that’s supposed to be enough?“

“It was enough for Maria.”

Those five simple words stunned you silent. They struck a nerve you didn’t even know existed, and Frank, blinded by his aggravation, just kept hacking away at it with his verbal arsenal.

“Ya’know, she never gave me this much fuckin’ shit, and she had to deal with way worse than you. I was away from her and the kids for months at a time, couldn’t tell her a goddamn thing ‘bout what I was really doin’, and she was never on my ass the way you are right now-”

“I’m not her, Frank!”

The only sounds on the line were yours and Frank’s labored breathing, shallow and heavy from yelling and exhausting your vexed emotions on one another. For several moments, neither of you spoke a word, until finally you broke the silence by gritting your teeth and delivering one last blow.

“You know what, don’t fucking call me again until this shit is over.”

Frank, being the stubborn ass that he was, hadn’t attempted to contact you to smooth things over or to apologize. It infuriated you, but in the same breath, you didn’t want to speak to him right now. 

Still, it wasn’t fair of you to take your sour mood out on Billy. He hadn’t done anything wrong. You were upset with Frank, not him. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you slowly dragged your palm down your face before leaning back in your chair. You hadn’t noticed how stiffly you’d been sitting until you felt a dull ache in your lower back.

“I…sorry. There’s just…a lot going on right now. I’m spread kinda thin so, I’m…a bit on edge.”

“A bit?”

When you shot him an unamused look, Billy let out a light chuckle and held up his hands in a show of faux surrender.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t come to here to fuck with ya. I actually came to ask a favor.”

An expression of surprise swiftly coveted your features. What could you possibly have to offer Billy Russo?

“A favor?”

Billy leaned back in the chair, adjusting the lapels of his suit before crossing his left leg over his right knee, placing his elbows on the arm rests. Maybe it was because your office was familiar to him, or maybe it was because he was so rich he felt like he owned everything, but Billy had a way of being able to make himself comfortable no matter what setting he was in. Fixing his deep brown eyes on you, that signature smirk of his graced his lips once again when he caught your look of intrigue and confusion.

“As you know, Anvil has a government contract with Homeland Security. It was a big deal for the company, and it’s proven to be a damn good business investment. As a matter of fact, it’s been so successful, that I’ve been meetin’ with a few other branches negotiatin’ another expansion, and recently closed a deal with the CIA.”

“Don’t government contracts kinda defeat the whole private military operation thing?”

“I didn’t hear you complainin’ when that Homeland contract brought you to me.”

Rolling your eyes at the smugness in his voice, you reached for the nearly empty iced coffee sitting on your desk.

“It wasn’t a complaint.”

“Anvil is more than personal protection, darlin’. It’s also convoy security, tactical operations, tailored training, and more. Most of our military contracts are outside of the U.S, so havin’ two on American soil is a huge deal.”

“If you’re trying to sell me on investing, I hate to break it to you, but I think the number currently reflecting in my bank account would make you cry.”

Billy let out a deep chuckle at that, his lips stretching open into a tooth bearing grin. Giving a faint shake of his head, he ran his right hand along the top of his head, smoothing his perfectly styled raven hair back into place.

“That’s not what I’m askin’.”

“Then how do I come into this, exactly?”

“The news hasn’t hit the media yet. Anvil’s hosting a Veteran’s Charity Ball this Saturday night, and I’m gonna make the announcement then. That, pretty girl, is where you come into play. I’d like you to personally cover the story.”

Looking across your desk at Billy, you could see by the look on his face that he was serious about wanting you to cover the piece. A slight furrow nestled between your brows at the idea.

“Why me?”

Billy cocked his head to the side, a sparkle of mirth in his eyes and a sly smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

“Why would I ask anyone else? You know me, you know the company-”

“Which is kind of conflict of interest-”

“I already cleared it with your editor. You bein’ under the protection of Anvil is classified through Homeland, and since we’re a private company like you mentioned, our records ain’t public. Besides, your editor seemed pretty confident you could write without bias. Look, I want you on this. I’ve read the work of some of the other journalists here, and I gotta tell ya, even if I didn’t know ya, I still woulda picked you.”

Hearing that Billy had already talked to Ellison about this was a surprise to you because Ellison hadn’t mentioned it at all to you. When had Billy talked to him about this? Why hadn’t Ellison told you? Perplexity shrouded your features as you looked over at Billy.

“Ellison didn’t say anything-”

“I asked him not to. I wanted to ask you first, in person. He gave it the green light, but ultimately, it’s up to you if you wanna do it.”

Being kept in the dark seemed to be a recurring theme in your life lately that you weren’t happy with, and it stirred up dull embers of irritation from your fight with Frank. A part of you didn’t want to do it purely out of immature spite, since Billy indirectly had a hand in creating the chasm currently deepening between you and Frank. But that wasn’t fair to Billy. You owed him your life as much as you did Frank and Dinah. Billy played a vital part in keeping you safe and protected from the Defenders of Freedom, and recording Steven’s confession ended up being the smoking gun in proving his involvement.

After a moment of silent contemplation, you let out a light exhale through your lips.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t get too excited, now. It’s only a fancy party with an extensive open bar and catering from all of the best restaurants in the city.”

Trying to fight the smile that threatened to escape across your lips, you looked over at Billy and arched one of your brows.

“Are you trying to bribe me to write you a good article, Mr. Russo?”

“Is it workin’?”

Billy’s mouth was stretched in a wide, wolfish grin, showcasing the top row of his dazzling pearly white teeth. His dark brows were raised slightly up his forehead, and he had that familiar devilish twinkle in his eyes. Giving a soft shake of your head with a dry laugh, you crossed your arms over your chest and relaxed back in your chair.

“What time?”

“Starts at seven, I’ll send a car for ya ‘round six-thirty.”

“You don’t have to do that, I can take a cab-”

“C’mon, you’re doin’ me a favor.”

“Hey, I never agreed to write a good article. I might make you look terrible, just for the fun of it.”

Returning your teasing smile with an amused grin, Billy chuckled with a shake of his head. As he stood up and fixed his maroon tie, he motioned towards your office door with his head.

“Alright, c’mon.”

Staring up at him with a puzzled expression, you let out a soft laugh while he buttoned the middle button of his suit jacket.

“What?”

“I’m takin’ your bratty ass to lunch. Maybe after some food you’ll be a bit nicer.”

Making a show of rolling your eyes in faux exasperation, you stood from your chair and locked your computer before closing your notebook.

“No promises.”

“Well in my experience, you’re more tolerable when you’re fed.”

“Keep talking. Your article is getting worse and worse.”

“I’m sure a few glasses of expensive champagne will fix that.”

Billy turned to take a step towards the door and then abruptly paused, turning back to look at you with another teasing grin.

“Oh, and do me another favor, would ya? See if you can get Frankie to drag his ass out and make an appearance. I think he’s forgotten how to use his phone.”

The mention of Frank’s name instantly tarnished the light hearted mood Billy’s banter had put you in. Letting out a dry scoff, you slipped your phone into your purse and pulled the straps over your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath. That job you and Madani have him working has not only turned him into a ghost, but also a complete dick. I’ll let you deal with him.”

Tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, you started to round your desk when you looked up and caught the expression on Billy’s face, and it made you stop in your tracks. His sharp features were suddenly void of their usual playful warmth, and there was no charming smirk etched onto his mouth. His lips were set in a firm line, outlining his chiseled jaw that was covered in a perfectly trimmed dark beard, and his dark brown eyes looked nearly obsidian. 

“The job with Madani?”

There was a faint serrated edge to his tone when he spoke, but you didn’t miss it. Billy’s stare was intense, and you realized he probably thought that you knew something you shouldn’t. Crossing your arms over your chest, you let an irritated exhale escape through your nose as your gaze drifted towards the window of your office.

“Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me anything. Not where he was going, not what he was doing, nothing. So whatever top secret thing you two have him doing, it’s still top secret, alright?”

There was a long pause of silence, and your annoyance started to fade into a feeling of perplexity when you looked back at him and saw a look in Billy’s eyes that you didn’t know how to read. There was a sudden coldness to him, and an emotion you couldn’t decode hidden in his steely gaze. The tense quietness in your office sent an uneasy shiver down your spine, but then it was like a switch was suddenly flipped, and Billy reverted back to the version of him you’re familiar with.

He plastered that charming smirk on his lips again, but you noticed this time, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Trouble in paradise?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you dropped your gaze down to the floor for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t like being lied to, or kept in the dark. I know your line of work is…complicated, I just…I thought Frank and I didn’t have any secrets between us.”

“Sometimes lyin’ and keepin’ somethin’ hidden is the only way to protect someone from the pain of the truth.”

Lifting your head, you met Billy’s intense gaze with an incredulous and inquisitive look.

“You really believe that?”

“Trust me, some secrets are better left buried, darlin’.”

»»———　　———««

The following evening when you came home from work, all you wanted was a long soak in a hot bath and an entire bottle of wine. The stress of the last two weeks wasn’t just taking a toll on you emotionally, it was also physically manifesting in your body. Closing the front door behind you, the lock sounded with a click when you twisted the oval knob, and you lazily tossed your keys onto the side table in the entryway before carelessly tossing your purse onto it as well. 

Coming around the corner into your living room, you nearly had a heart attack when you were suddenly met with the sight of a large figure sitting at your dining table, waiting in the dark. Clutching at your chest in panic and jumping nearly two feet in the air, your voice came out in a shrill shriek.

“Jesus Christ, Frank!”

Frank didn’t physically react to your outburst. He sat as still as a statue in one of the chairs, slightly hunched over with his thighs spread wide, his forearms resting just a few inches above his knees. A bit of dark stubble coated his cheeks and sharp jawline, and his grown out hair was a tousled mess of ebony waves resting against his forehead instead of being pushed back in their usual style.

The swift scare of Frank’s intrusion, his silent treatment, and the lingering resentment you’d been harboring for the past two weeks had you glaring at him.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

His deep brown eyes were fixated on you and his plump lips were set in a stubborn line. Frank’s rugged features were even more pronounced in his resting semi-permanent broody expression. Wordlessly, he lifted one of his large hands, showcasing a set of keys on a ring pinched between his thumb and index finger. One of which, belonged to your front door. 

After everything that had happened at your last place, you couldn’t stay there anymore. You’d quickly moved into a new place that happened to be closer to the Bulletin, and as far as you knew no one had died in it, and there weren’t lingering bullet holes under the paint. Frank had helped you move and set up your security system for you again. You’d forgotten that you’d given him a spare key so he could get in while you were at work.

When you crossed your arms over your chest in a defensive stance, Frank caught the pissed off look on your face, and when you opened your mouth to lash out at him, he quickly cut you off with his rough voice before you could get a word out.

“Said not to call. Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout comin’ to see ya.”

The snippiness of his comment made you narrow your eyes in his direction. Clenching your jaw, you pursed your lips tightly as your face contorted into a portrait of annoyance. You were about to snap back at him when you noticed out of the corner of your eye that there was a packed bag sitting on the dining table next to him.

It was yours.

Eyes flickering between your bag and Frank, you stared at him in a mixture of irritation and confusion.

“What the hell is that for?”

“I gotta leave town for a bit. I told ya I’d make sure you were taken care of while I was gone, so you’re gonna stay with a friend of mine.”

“And you didn’t think to ask me if that was something I even wanted to do?”

“It ain’t up for discussion.”

Frank hadn’t been this cold towards you since the early days of when he was your bodyguard. For a moment your exasperation evaporated, wondering if things between the two of you were worse than you thought. Picking up on the slight change in your body language and facial expression, Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose and slowly stood up from the chair.

“I can’t do what I need to do if I’m worryin’ ‘bout you bein’ alone here, alright? It’s just for a few days.”

“Frank, I’m not in any danger anymore. No one is actively trying to kill me. If you’re that worried about me being alone, Billy can stop by-”

“No.”

The aggressive tone of Frank’s voice and the roughness of his tone caught you off guard. Frank glanced away from you, his eyes darting around your living room for a few seconds before they finally returned to you. His left hand was tightly grasped in a fist, but on his right, his index and middle finger twitched. A sharp exhale escaped his large nose, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip quickly before he spoke again.

“Look you wanna be pissed at me, be pissed at me, but don’t put yourself at risk cause of it. Maybe you’re right, yeah? Maybe you ain’t a target no more. But I’d rather know you were safe than have to deal with the fact later on that I shoulda done more. I ain’t takin’ that risk again.”

It was like a light bulb went off in your head when he spoke that last sentence. In the midst of your own tangled mess of selfish feelings, you hadn’t once stopped to think about how Frank felt about all of this. A sinking feeling of remorse settled in your stomach hearing the frustration but also the lingering pain in his voice when he spoke. 

I ain’t takin’ that risk again.

He’d had his entire family ripped away from him in one single moment, right in front of his eyes, of course he was fucking paranoid. From your perspective, Steven was facing life in prison, and all the remaining members of the Defenders of Freedom were gonna rot with him, so you didn’t think you had anything to be worried about.

But Frank saw danger everywhere. He anticipated it. He planned for it. And that’s what he was doing right now. 

Frank was doing the exact same thing he’d been doing every single day since he met you: keeping you safe.

Letting out a deep sigh, you looked down at the floor for a moment to gather your irrational thoughts and rein in your impulsive emotions. When you raised your head, your eyes flickered from the packed bag sitting on your dining table back to Frank’s unrelenting stare. Running one of your hands stressfully through the roots of your hair, you made a faint gesture of throwing your hands up in concession.

“Alright, well if you’re not leaving me with Billy, I’m assuming you’re not taking me to Madani either. So, does Matt know I’m coming?”

Frank’s steely expression crumbled at the mention of Matt’s name. He pulled a face like you’d just asked a ridiculous question, a furrow of annoyance and confusion settling between his thick brows.

“You think I’d leave you with him?”

Letting out a dry scoff void of humor, you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and folded your arms across your chest.

“Just because he’s blind-”

“It ain’t got shit to do with him bein’ blind.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is I don’t trust him to keep his fuckin’ hands to himself, and I ain’t lettin’ him pull that ‘poor blind orphan’ shit on you.”

A look of surprise crossed your face as your brows lifted slightly up your forehead, and it took every ounce of self control not to laugh or show any indication of amusement. Frank wouldn’t leave you in Matt’s care because he was worried he would…hit on you?

Letting out a grunt, Frank grabbed the handles of your bag in his left hand and swiped it off the table.

“He’s too preoccupied at night anyway.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Bein’ the goddamn Devil. C’mon.”

When Frank walked past you towards your front door, you turned around to watch him, narrowing your eyes in irritation.

“Can you at least tell me who you’ve employed to babysit me then?”

Frank paused at your front door, which he took up the entire frame of, and his head dropped between his shoulders for a moment. You could hear him audibly voice his frustration with your attitude when he let out another sharp exhale before turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“A friend of mine.”

“Yeah, you said that. A friend of yours, that you’ve never mentioned before. Do I have to have some kind of top secret security clearance for you to tell me their name?”

There was a scowl on Frank’s face as he glowered at you, turning around to face you fully. He dropped your bag on the floor with a light thud, scrunching up his face for a moment as he inhaled sharply through his large nose, cocking his head to the side.

“Christ. This what you wanna do right now, huh?”

Returning his glare with just as much vehemence, you let out a dry and humorless laugh as you gestured around loosely.

“No, Frank. This isn’t what I want-”

“Look you wanna keep bustin’ my goddamn balls, fine. But do it from the truck, yeah? You can antagonize me with your bullshit all you want while I drive, but we got somewhere to be.”

Clenching your jaw, your hands balled into frustrated fists at your sides. For a moment the two of you were locked in some kind of silent staring contest. You were so sick of every conversation with Frank lately turning into an argument that ended with the two of you at each other’s throats. You didn’t have the patience to combat his stubborn dedication to being a self righteous asshole. Gritting your teeth, you stormed forward and grabbed your own bag as you brushed past him out your front door, swearing under your breath.

“Dick.”

Frank pursed his full lips and nodded his head, turning around to follow you after forcefully shutting your front door behind himself.

“Yeah yeah, get in the goddamn truck.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[charmac]

Danny did a little interview for AARP Magazine in December. I haven't seen it copied anywhere past the paywall and I enjoyed reading it, so wanted to repost here

(Article is pasted as text below the cut)

Noisemaker I was born in Asbury Park, New Jersey. I was the baby, my sister Theresa was 10 years older, my sister Angie was 16 years older, my mom had two sisters, and none of them shut up, ever. It’s an Italian family, so the decibel level is out there. A little smart aleck I went to Our Lady of Mount Carmel School, because if your mother and father didn’t know what to do with you, they gave you to the nuns. … and still a smart aleck I remember when Peter, my nephew, was born. I was 7 years old, and I went over and looked into the bassinet, and the first thing he did was pee on me. It was great! I don’t think there’s a conversation I’ve had with the guy over all these years where I don’t bring up the fact that he peed on me. Also an old softie Do anything you can to keep on an even keel with your family and friends, no matter what happens in your life. That’s all we have. Don’t hide things. You’ve got to get up every day thinking about how you’re going to make it easier for the people that you’re working with or that you love or that you eat breakfast with. Because it’s infectious; everybody starts feeling good. Falling into the business Growing up, I’d spend the weekends at the movies, but I actually wasn’t even thinking about doing it. I got introduced to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in a roundabout way, took a couple classes, and I got the bug. And I thought, I’m not like Cary Grant, but I got a feel for this thing. So I studied, and then I went and started looking for jobs in New York, like every other actor does. I didn’t care what the description was—“male, 6 foot 4, 250 pounds”—I’d go out for the audition. Once I got in the room, I’m going to do what I’m going to do. Becoming Louie I wanted that part, Louie DePalma [in Taxi]. I walked into the room to audition in front of the four guys who created it, and I said, “One thing I want to know before we start. Who wrote this shit?” And I threw the script on the table. And I had a nanosecond of, did I screw everything up? Then they fell on the floor. Louie walked into their lives. Sudden fame I went to the market the day after the first episode aired, and people are stopping me on the street: “Hey, Louie!” They weren’t calling me Danny. After a couple of days of this, I called my publicist, and said, “This is really crazy. People are chasing me down the street.” He says, “Danny, you don’t have to worry until that stops happening.” Now it’s all, “Frank, Frank, Frank!” because of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which is good. The fans are all you have. Still evolving I think I’m bolder than I’ve ever been—I don’t monitor myself as much. I do say things that are, like, pretty far out, that are really weird, and sometimes I’m inappropriate. But I am always respectful, and that’s because of my two sisters, I swear to God. You have to respect other people’s space.

My happy place Since my two grandbabies have been born, I am just in- corrigible. You gotta tamp me down in the joy department, you know what I’m saying? I’m just so lucky. Blessings have been showered down on me. I wish that for everybody.And the thing is to be aware of it. Don’t let it go. Rhea [Perlman, DeVito’s wife, from whom he is separated but with whom he still spends a lot of time] and I were always able to see those little, incremental changes when our kids were growing up. And I tell my kids that, with their babies: Don’t miss a thing, don’t look away. A sudden case of holidays I’m in the movie A Sudden Case of Christmas with my daughter Lucy, who plays my daughter. It’s just a real warm, wonderful movie, and I loved doing it. As far as the actual holidays go, we have family dinners. Basically we’re Italian, so you know, anybody who’s around, we grab. We get to celebrate all the holidays, because Rhea’s parents were Jewish, so we did all the Jewish holidays, and we do all the Catholic holidays or Italian holidays. My mantra It’s always a good thing to be positive about life, and always get out of bed thinking today’s the day you’re really going to kick its ass. That’s the way to do it

[isak-dot-gov]

Empty promises

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Word count: 1764

My masterlist :)

................................................

Reader’s POV:

“Paige what are you actually trying to say right now?” I asked in shock and slight annoyance.

“I just think we should be taking time apart, is all.” she sighs before continuing, “The season’s about to start up and the team really needs me, you know that. I can't afford to have any distractions.”

I feel my eyes sting as she continues to talk. Paige and I have been having this conversation for hours now, talking in circles and never getting to a solid resolve. Something in me was telling me there was much more to this than her current focus on her basketball career, her body language gave it away so easily, it always did. With Paige always being willing to drop any and everything for her basketball career, I had a feeling a day like this would come. I just thought it would've happened a lot later than now.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to drop me like the last five months meant nothing?” I asked, evidently getting frustrated with her inability to directly tell me what she needed.

She avoided my gaze as she said, “I’m not dropping you. I promise I'm not. We just need to take a break so I can focus on basketball. We can still be friends and stuff.”

Still be friends? Seriously? She and I start taking each other more seriously for five months and she decides on a random Tuesday that “we can still be friends and stuff”? She has to be joking. I feel my blood boil at this. She doesn’t get the right to use me like that then make me go back to being her friend “friend”.

“Paige I’m going to be quite frank with you. Your promises mean absolutely nothing to me right now. You’ve promised me multiple times that whatever this was, meant something to you. You’ve promised me you would tell the rest of your team about us so we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore. You’ve promised me so much and what you’ve just said diminishes all of that,” I take a deep breath as I scratch at the skin on my thumbs, “I’m so tired of this, P. You say so much, yet everything you say has no substance. You’re right though. You should focus on your basketball and I deserve much more than what you're willing to offer me right now.”

I got up from the purple bean bag in the corner of her room, my view level elevating from her bed she sat on. At this she finally gained the courage to look at me, panic being the main emotion on her face. It was obvious that my words affected her, and for once in the past five months, I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. She deserved to hear that, in the same way I deserved to say it.

“I’m heading out, hope you get whatever you tried to achieve with all of this. Stay safe, Paige.”

I walk away before she gets the chance to respond, feeling too angry at such an abrupt ending to look back at her.

—------------------------

Paige’s POV:

“I’m not gonna lie, you fucked up big time, P,” KK said while eating a packet of trüfrü as soon as I finished speaking. This earned her a smack over the head from Nika as the rest of the team processed what I’ve just told them. The last two months had been insane to say the least. With starting off the season, playing back to back games and having early morning practices almost every day the one person I wanted to be around was Y/N. I couldn’t believe I messed up with her that much. That day and everything she said to me still runs through my mind.

“You’ve promised me multiple times that whatever this was, meant something to you. You’ve promised me you would tell the rest of your team about us so we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore. You’ve promised me so much and what you’ve just said diminishes all of that… You say so much, yet everything you say has no substance. You’re right though. You should focus on your basketball and I deserve much more than what you're willing to offer me right now.”

She was right, she always was. It sucks that it took me so long to see it. After I realised just how much I missed her and how unfair I’ve been, I decided to start trying to make it right, I just didn’t know how. So I decided to start with the obvious, telling the team about her. I called them all to my room and immediately started telling them about the past seven months.

“Fuck, I know, KK. I just really wish I could fix this,” I say and rub my hand against my temple as a lame attempt at alleviating the stress in my mind. 

Azzi looked at me compassionately and said, “I think you should talk to her. I know it seems really bad right now, but that closure would be healthy for both of you.”

Aubrey nodded and added, “She’s right, P. Let’s be honest, you’ve been a complete wreck on the court for a while now. Talking to her might fix that.”

The rest of the court chimed in with ideas for ways for me to fix what I’ve caused. Finally, after many questionable ideas, Inȇs spoke up, “I think you should just show up to her house and say you’re sorry then tell her how you’re willing to change. There’s nothing you can really do other than that, Paige. Everything you’re telling us about what she said shows that. She needs your honesty, not huge signs of love.”

The rest of the team looked at her slightly shocked as she continued laying on the couch and finishing an assignment as if she had not just schooled us intellectually. With a new found sense of comfort from her words, I stood upright from the kitchen counter I was leaning on and went to grab my keys. As I unlocked the door I said, “You’re right, Neshy. Thanks guys.”

“Girl boo, are you insane. It’s almost 12AM,” KK said. I ignored her as I continued out of the shared dorm and made my way to my car.

—-----------

Reader’s POV:

A loud knock could be heard from my apartment door as I sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through my phone. It was late—much later than I usually had visitors. My heart skipped a beat as I wondered who could be at my door at this hour.

Reluctantly, I got up and made my way to the door, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling in my chest. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and after the exhausting day I’d had, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for surprises.

As I opened the door, I was met with the sight of Paige standing there, looking slightly disheveled and anxious. Her hair was a mess, like she’d been running her hands through it repeatedly, and her eyes were filled with a mixture of desperation and regret.

“Paige?” I said, my voice tinged with surprise and a bit of annoyance. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

She looked down at her feet for a moment, seemingly gathering her thoughts, before finally meeting my gaze. “I know it’s late, and I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you. I needed to apologise.”

I crossed my arms, unsure of where this was going but not ready to let my guard down just yet. “You’ve already said what you needed to say, Paige. I’m not sure what else there is to talk about.”

She took a deep breath, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I messed up, Y/N. I know I hurt you, and I’ve been kicking myself every day since you walked out that door. You were right—I made promises I didn’t keep, and I took you for granted. I let basketball become more important than us, and that was a mistake.”

Her voice cracked slightly as she continued, “But I miss you. God, I miss you so much, and I’ve realised that nothing—no game, no career—matters if I don’t have you in my life. I told the team about us. I wanted you to know that I’m serious this time. I want to make things right.”

I felt a lump form in my throat as I listened to her. Part of me wanted to believe her, to take her in my arms and tell her everything would be okay. But the hurt she’d caused was still fresh, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to let her back in so easily.

“Paige, I…” I started, struggling to find the right words. “I appreciate you coming here and saying all this, but I don’t know if things can just go back to the way they were. You really hurt me, and I need time to figure out if I can trust you again.”

She nodded, her expression full of understanding and regret. “I get that, and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just needed you to know that I’m sorry and that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. If that means giving you space, I’ll do it. If it means proving myself to you every day, I’ll do that too.”

I looked at her, searching her eyes for any hint of insincerity, but all I saw was raw honesty. It was clear that she meant every word she said, and as much as I wanted to stay mad at her, a part of me couldn’t help but soften.

“Okay,” I finally said, my voice softer now. “I need time, Paige. But I won’t close the door on us just yet.”

A small, relieved smile crossed her face as she nodded. “Thank you. I’ll give you all the time you need.”

We stood there for a moment, the tension between us slowly easing, replaced by a tentative hope. It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a start.

“Goodnight, Paige,” I said, taking a step back into my apartment.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” she replied, her voice filled with gratitude.

As I closed the door, I leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. Things were still uncertain, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

..............................................

Isak speaks: I'm on a fucking roll today guys :]. I'm also considering writting for KK and Inȇs becuase they are highly underated on tumblr tbh

[bangtangalicious]

nexus (m) part 6

pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader ft. hobi x reader, namjoon x reader, yoongi x reader

smut: taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader, some hobi x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love

genre: 18+ slow burn romance mafia elite arranged marriage murder mystery thriller

characters: detective jungkook, heir taehyung, ceo namjoon, arms dealer hoseok, bartender yoongi, doctor jimin, best friend/heir seokjin

wordcount: 6.2k

warnings: 18+ multiple smut scenes, oral (f and m), fingering, sexual tension, like a lot of sexual tension, a lot of subtle touching, grinding, kisses, possessive behavior, tsundere!taehyung, implied bipolar disorder, angstttt, betrayal, light yandere undertones, taehyung gets his first kiss...and some other things too ;) breast play, hella teasing, did i mention sexual tension idk taehyung is hot ok but hes also scary do with that what you will, declarations of love, jungkook tryna be sweet we been knew ig, as you might imagine this sets the foreplay for loads of smut in the next part LOL, its a lot of slow burn build up and evident thirsting over this taehyung okay im not sorry

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

“I can’t lose you”

Taehyung’s words haunted you as you stared aimlessly at the tiled ceiling. The hospital room chilly, the smell of alcohol—the sanitizing kind, unfortunately—overwhelming your senses. There were other things you could be thinking about. Namjoon in jail. Jimin dead. Hobi betraying your trust.

But no. It had been Taehyung’s eyes that were on your mind—was it concern? Worry? Taehyung with emotions was a rare sighting. You were practically cherishing the moment.   

“It’s late”

The devil in question sat by the windowsill of your private hospital room, minding his own. Reading. Fingers bending the corners of a paperback novel as his eyes trailed over the pages with interest.

Even in the dark hue of the night, the faded moon seemed to hit his face just right.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Go to sleep” His answer was frank, “None of that matters until you get better”

“How can I not think about it?” You snapped. “Namjoon went to jail for me. Because I was an idiot and trusted Hobi. Bet my ass he killed Dr. Park too. I’m probably next. And if he murders me���you won’t get to, Tae”

The corners of Taehyung’s lips curled ever so slightly.

His uninterested eyes steady on the pages of his novel. Not bothering to glance your way.

“Have you ever considered just keeping yourself out of dangerous situations? Whatever it is you’re trying to prove…that you’re powerful, like your mother…that my family wronged you—all it does is show that you’re still their puppet.”

He exhaled sharply, a dismissive scoff that tore your confidence thread by thread, finally meeting your eyes.

“It’s pathetic”

You’d had just about enough of him. Fingernails digging into your palms.

“You’re an asshole Taehyung” You informed him. He shrugged.

“I’m honest” He countered. “And you’re not used to that. You’re used to being babied.” Finally setting his book aside, he walked up to your bedside, kneeling down until he was at your eye level.

“Now will you please sleep?”

The look in his eyes perplexed you. You couldn’t quite tell if he was annoyed, or if he genuinely cared about your health.

Deep down, you knew he was right. Everything you’d done had been to prove a point.

Taehyung rested his head on the armrest. Watching you intently, his eyes tired, dropping unconsciously.

“You’re the one who needs sleep, idiot” You muttered under your breath, letting your fingers run through his soft, wispy black hair. “Taehyung” You nudged him. He barely opened his eyes. 

“Get in here” You shifted over, giving him space. He didn’t question it in the moment, he was probably too tired. He didn’t face you. Kept a decent distance between you both.

You were paralyzed. Aware of his every breath. Aware of the way he shifted himself to get comfortable—you could sense the intention in his avoidance of touching your skin even slightly. His scent was more prominent.

“Do you miss your mother?”

His question was so quiet, you weren’t even sure it was real.

And it occurred to you then, that you’d never thought about it. That you’d never even been asked. In the chaos of your mother’s death, your move to the Kim’s and Taehyung being sent away—you barely even processed anything. All you remembered was Jin being so patronizingly worried about you—convincing you that he was all you needed. That you moving in with him would fix everything.

You blinked wildly. Trying to piece together a coherent answer.

“I liked her” A smile creeped onto his face. Or so you thought, as you turned to see the side of his face—his eyes steady on the ceiling fan. “She’d always get me hotteok”

You watched him. Inspected the mole on his neck. The curve of his cheek. The way his long lashes merged when he’d blink. The way the night sparkled in his eyes. The same eyes that would bend your will so easily.

Young Taehyung would give you one look and you’d give him the world. And he’d known it too.

It was so quiet. But your chest was beating loud in your ears.

You must have fallen asleep despite yourself. Dreaming of Jungkook had become a standard practice. This time, he was drowning. You were him, and he couldn’t breathe. You reached out to him as he screamed for you. He was terrified. Falling. Dying.

Breathe.

You tried to tell him. Swim to the surface. Breathe. Something chained him down.

Your eyes shot open.

It was dark.

You. You couldn’t breathe.

Suffocating you, the cotton tasted bitter on your toungue. You squirmed. Thrashing, trying to grab for someone—anyone. You screamed out, for what it was worth. Scratching at the strong hands that held the pillow down over your face.

Adrenaline surged. It occurred to you to kick your legs. You did.

Suddenly the grip loosened.

Taehyung was on the floor.

Panting.

Hyperventilating.

The pillow inches from his palm.

He was quivering. Eyes shot—looking down as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing.

You stared at him. Trying to comprehend. Trying to rationalize.

“Taehyung” His name left your mouth in a more accusatory manner than you meant it to. Was it a question or a plea—you were unsure. He met your eyes, and you saw fear. As if he’d been pulled out of a trance.

“I—” He couldn’t form the words. He receded into himself, moving back until he was as far from your hospital bed as he could be. Back pressed against the wall as he hugged his knees to his chest. His voice was shaking, “I don’t—”

“Were you trying to kill me?” You yelped, looking around suddenly for your phone. Grabbing it you held it to your chest, ready to call for help if he tried anything. You almost wanted to laugh—thinking for a moment that you were safe around Kim fucking Taehyung.

You should’ve known better.

Taehyung’s eyes were overcome with horror. Disgust, at himself. He looked at his hands as if they weren’t a part of his own body. Then back at you.

“Princess” He was breathless, “—I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was d-dreaming, I didn’t know”

You gulped. Your fingers curling around your phone as you tried to think.

Maybe he was telling you the truth. Taehyung didn’t know to lie to you. He was honest if nothing else.

“Come back” You let your voice soften, but your body remained tense. “Go back to sleep Tae”

Taehyung gave you an uncertain look.

You rose from the bed, the hospital gown falling loosely around your curves. Kneeling down, you met his eyes at his level. Taking the pillow from the ground, you reached your other hand out to him.

“Maybe,” You sighed, “Maybe being in a hospital is triggering for you” It was a stretch, but you needed to believe there was something. Something that wasn’t that Taehyung hated your guts. Resented you, and would go as far as to kill you in your sleep because of it.

“It is”

He confessed quietly, still not meeting your gaze.

The pout on his lips, evident.

“You didn’t have to stay”

He looked at you.

He said nothing.

“Why don’t I call Yoongi, hm?” You reasoned, “He can take you home” And then you can call Jungkook and get the fuck away from him.

The phone rang.

Jungkook groaned, shoving his face into his pillow.

It kept fucking ringing.

Knowing deep down it might be the precinct, reluctantly, he put the phone to his ear.

“Hey”

Your voice was an aphrodisiac.

He felt it straight in his chest. Awake, now. Worried, seconds later.

He rubbed his eyes, checking his phone to see how late it was.

“Y/n? Baby, is everything okay? Are you still at the hospital?”

“I’m fine.” You weren’t. He could hear the tremble in your voice, “I just sent Taehyung home. Can I come to your place?”

Jungkook sighed. “Sure. I’ll be there soon”

Perks of having a police vehicle. Traffic was never an issue for him.

Entering the hospital, he noticed Yoongi and Taehyung in the lobby, heading towards the back exit. Yoongi had his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. Seemed to be reassuring him.

Jungkook wondered what happened. You called Yoongi to the hospital so late to take Taehyung home.

He got in the elevator. He knew what room you were in. He’d been the one to bring you to the hospital, before the staff kindly reminded him he was not family—or rather, he wasn’t a Kim, and therefore couldn’t go into your room.

Then Jimin’s body was found. Duty called.

Three gunshots. He didn’t see him, but the autopsy report was eerily similar to that of his own fathers.

You were waiting at the front desk of the inpatient ward. Signing what he assumed were your discharge papers. You noticed him, eyes lighting up immediately.

Jungkook placed his calloused palm against your cheek. Your eyes were so fucking beautiful it stung him just to look at you.

“You’re okay” He breathed, reassuring himself more than anything. His voice trembled softly into a chuckle as you nodded, covering his palm with your own.

“Yeah, I’m okay” His lips neared yours, not touching, but enough for you to feel his breath scrape against your nerves.

He took your hand in his, and led you out of the hospital to his car. It was a short drive to his apartment. It occurred to him that you’d likely never stepped foot on this side of the city. The streets were narrow. Crippling houses dotted his peripheral—a faint scent of smoke through his windows.

He parked on the edge of the street, in front of an average-sized apartment complex.

“The Jeon Manor” He joked lightly.

You pouted, grabbing his hand. Fingers lacing with his.

“You know I don’t care that you’re not rich”

Jungkook wanted to scoff. But he held it back. If only you knew. If only you realized what could have been his, if it hadn’t been for—

“I don’t care where we are, I just want to be with you”

You brought his hand to your lips.

“Stop” He exhaled.

“W-what?”

“Stop saying shit like that when you won’t fucking commit”

You gulped. His stare was intense as he pulled his hand away from you, running in through his dark curls.

“Jungkook” You reached for his shirt, tugging the fabric towards you but Jungkook’s jaw hardened. He turned away. “Jungkook I’m serious”

“You won’t leave Nexus for me, you told me that. You won’t fight for me”

You tugged harder. He grabbed your wrist, harsher than he meant to. Glaring at you.

You didn’t understand. Jungkook should have known. Why would you? This was personal for you. Running Nexus was a point you had to prove, he understood that. But it was the very thing he needed you to give up. If not, then you’d never forgive him for what was coming.

“I love you”

Jungkook’s eyes clenched shut, almost out of regret. He felt tears but pushed them down.

“No.” He shook his head. Shit. He had let this go too far.

For as much as he’d wanted to hear it, it was a wake up call. The two of you couldn’t be together.

“You can’t”

Then he kissed you. His heart was erratic, breathing too. A desperate kiss, fierce with need. Your body fell limp, melting into his touch. Falling into him because he was everything and all you needed.

-

Somehow, he brought you to his apartment. Kicking the door closed.

He lifted you onto the counter, not letting you breathe—not letting you think, but fighting a sweet war with your lips. You were spinning. Losing yourself every passing second—seconds which passed so slowly as the moment consumed you.

His hands which rested on the sides of your hips, crawled beneath the hem of your shirt. Delicately they explored your skin, rising to the curves of your chest. Caressing your breast, he deepened the kiss, tongue pushing past yours, tangling together.

“Jungkook” You whimpered. His mouth slanting down your jaw, to your neck. Where he tasted your sweet skin and you arched into him. His fingers drawing across your nipples with intention, causing fire to pulse through you.

You could feel him pressed against you, hips locked. Rocking ever so slightly.

Your phone began to vibrate. Jungkook hissed in irritation, backing away as you answered the call.

“Y/n”

Your blood ran cold.

That voice.

“Run”

You could see Jungkook’s eyes narrow at you. The line went dead. You were too stunned to speak.

“Who was it?” Jungkook inquired, looking at your phone. Gulping, you shook your head.

“I-um—just remembered that I need to take care of something”

His fingers hovered over your waist. “Okay, I can drive you” You stiffened as he kissed your neck again. “Or we could go after 20 minutes” His voice was husky.

Run.

Jungkook’s lips dipped to your chest, pushing the hem of your t-shirt up. Leaving pronounced kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

You squinted behind him. There was an old family photograph hanging on the wall.

Two young boys. A father.

Their suits. Well-tailored. Designer.

Your breath hitched, Jungkook’s fingers slid across your slit.

“I love you baby” He mumbled as his lips returned to yours. “So fucking much, I almost hate you for it”

Two boys. A father.

Two.

“You’re an only child, right?”

Jungkook’s actions halted.

“Yeah,” He wiped his lips, “My mom died when I was young.”

“Any, other relatives…?” You slid off the counter carefully, pieces in your mind beginning to fit together.

Jungkook’s face hardened. Jaw stiff.

“Did Jimin say some bullshit to you?”

Oh God. Jimin had been hinting at some connection between Jin and Jungkook all along. You thought it had been a joke. A way to toy with Jungkook’s head.

That day. After you fucked Jungkook for the first time. Jin saw him. Jin knew him.

What if Jimin had been right? What if he had been the only one who was truly looking out for you all along?

“Did you kill Jimin?” The question had no sound. The air was still. The two of you, frozen in time.

“Come on, Y/n.” Jungkook sighed, “Jimin got what he deserved, but no I did not. He hurt you. He’s insane”

You flinched when he reached for your wrist.

He knew you figured it out.

You stepped outside the apartment. Running down the steps until you were back on the street. Outside Yoongi stood, leaning against the stone wall across the street as though he were expecting you.

“You knew” Was all you said.

Yoongi sighed, “I knew about Jungkook, but I needed to make sure if my hunch about Jin was true.”

You laughed bitterly. “That’s why my mother hated Jin. Because,” You couldn’t even say it. It made you want to vomit.

“Jin is a Jeon”

You blinked back tears. “But, why would he kill his own father?”

“Unless, he didn’t”

“Oh my God. You think…” You exhaled, feeling weak again. Yoongi held you upright. “Taehyung?”

He shrugged lightly, “It’s possible. More believable that a mother sends away the son who killed her lover than a son who simply witnessed something”

You were silent.

“You need to be careful” He made his voice as soft and kind as he possibly could. “I know about Hobi, but I’m honestly more suspicious of Jungkook.”

You nodded. The sun seemed to peak out from the horizon. A new day. A new betrayal.

Then the sound of the voice on the phone hit you. Run. So familiar. Like a ghost.

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah love?”

“Did you call my phone earlier?”

He shook his head. “No…why?”

“You’re back early” Taehyung answered the door, “Figured you’d spend the whole night with the Detective” His bland tone seemed to have been revived. You were too bewildered to care. You pushed past him, Yoongi following behind. Taehyung greeted him nicely. “Hyung”

You slumped into the couch immediately. Hand on your forehead as if it would ease the pounding.

Yoongi watched you, concerned. Taehyung looked to him for an explanation.

“So listen,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but we still need to stay focused on pushing Hoseok out. The shareholders will be at the casino this evening for the anniversary gala”

“Yoongi” You laughed bitterly, “I don’t want to—”

“Y/n,” He responded, adamant, “This is what it’s like. You can’t hide just because shit’s hard. You’re not Jin’s princess anymore, you have responsibilities if you want back what’s yours. Taehyung isn’t ready to handle society on his own. He needs you”

A tear rolled down your cheek.

“Get some sleep” Yoongi rested his hand on your shoulder, caressing it gently. “It’s 7 AM, you’ve got plenty of time to get yourself together” His gaze diverted to Taehyung. “Black tie formal. I’ll send a suit for you. Make sure this one starts getting dressed at least 3 hours before we leave—she takes forever”

You let out a sad laugh, knowing Yoongi was trying to cheer you up but failing epically when all you had was a broken heart and impending doom.

Yoongi left, but Taehyung remained standing in front of you. A safe distance away, he simply observed you.

“You can sit you know” You grumbled.

He didn’t react. Didn’t move an inch.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired after a moment.

“Nothing,” You chuckled, “Just another missed opportunity for you to be the cause of my misery.”

“Was it,” Taehyung took a deep breath. Pausing, considering his next words carefully, “Was it him? Did the Detective hurt you?”

His eyes seemed to flash with something you couldn’t quite read.

“No” You stood up finally, “No the Detective is just another lying, manipulative asshole like the rest of you”

You walked past him, heading towards the foyer.

“I thought you loved him”

You whirled around. How he had managed to pick that up, you had no idea.

“I’ve decided I’m done with love” You stated confidently, “I end up falling for liars anyway”

You proceeded to storm up the stairs.

You were woken up by the sound of soft footsteps. Squinting, the evening sun blaring into your room, you noticed Taehyung pacing nervously outside of your room.

He was dressed.

Yoongi must have come by with the suit. It fit him perfectly. His dark hair was styled, tousled but neater than usual. His shoulders were prominent. The tailoring was perfect for his lean figure, and long legs. A gold watch on his wrist. It looked natural. He wore it so well.

Just like his brother.

Run.

“You’re awake” Finally, Taehyung stepped inside your room.

“Get dressed” He motioned towards a dry-cleaning bag that lay on your desk.

“Taehyung,” You sat upright, wiping the drool from your lips, “You look very handsome”

He blinked at you. Then walked away.

If you had any lingering doubt in your mind that the man by your side was in fact, Kim Taehyung—they were utterly dismissed. His Kim colors were shining. Despite his typical cold nature to you, Taehyung was the embodiment of charm.

Stepping into the casino, he had been initially overwhelmed by the stimulus: the lights, the slot machining whirring with bright colors, the crowd. You could feel him visibly tense even though he remained an appropriate distance away from you at all times. Close enough that folks knew you’d come together. Far enough to show you that he hadn’t forgotten about what happened.

The first few people who’d approached you had been friends of his mothers. You knew everyone well, everyone knew you. Taehyung would be quiet, shy at first, but it was that very aspect of his personality that made him alluring. He knew exactly what to say. His observant nature allowed him to navigate the different dynamics, pick up on cues expertly.

The elders respected his aura. The young were entranced by his mystery.

Every person he talked to was ready to trust him with their life. And if that wasn’t a Kim trait, you weren’t sure what was.

The only hiccups would arise when folks would bring up the past.

“Aren’t you two getting engaged?” Mr. Lee, one of Kim Enterprises’ stakeholders, asked politely, “So tragic what happened to dear Seokjin. But have you rescheduled?”

With speedy hesitation, Taehyung slid a hand onto the small of your back, looking into your eyes. There was a genuine passing of emotion, ever so subtle. He spoke, to Mr. Lee, but really—to you.

“In time” He smiled slightly. Looking back to Mr. Lee, “We are still mourning, in our own way”

“I’m sure Jin would be so proud of you”

You felt Taehyung tense at the implication. He maintained his composure, nevertheless, but you could see the turmoil stirring within him. Mr. Lee excused himself, and you turned to Taehyung, searching his eyes.

The mere mention of Jin had been pushing him closer and closer to the edge all night.

“Tae” You sighed, caressing his arm. “Want to take a break?”

“Please” His response was curt, but you could see his other hand balled up in a fist. Jin’s name had such a radial effect on him—one that reminded you that despite his ability to play the social field, he was dangerous.

Taehyung followed you to the backrooms where a younger crowd was immersed in pool, poker, and other debauchery.

“They loved you”

Taehyung merely shrugged. “Play the man, not the game” His eyes ghosted over you, “You taught me that”

You snorted lightly, as you found a quieter spot away from the buzz, Taehyung leaned against a wall, looking at ease.

“Taehyung, do remember how to play pool?” You asked suddenly as the billiard table came into your vision.

Taehyung thought for a moment. “Not really. But I’ll learn”

“Winner makes a wish, loser fulfills it” You challenged him. You really couldn’t help yourself. Being in the casino made you crave risk. But Taehyung wasn’t ready for high stakes, you knew that.

“Fine”

You start off expertly. Taehyung handed you the pool cue, the smooth wood cool against your fingertips.

"Alright, let me show you the basics," you said, positioning yourself near the table with a practiced ease.

He watched intently, his eyes following the calculated movements of your hands as you lined up a shot.

You demonstrated the proper stance, the controlled grip, and the delicate finesse required to send a ball into the pocket. With each shot, you explained the strategy, the physics of the angles, and the importance of precision.

You hit the shot expertly. With a smirk, you put down the pool cue and motioned for Taehyung to take your place.

"Your turn, Tae."

He eyed you skeptically but took the cue, positioning himself for the shot. You stepped behind him, your hand gently guiding his.

You’d never been so close to him. Not since the day you reunited, and he hugged you. And asked: are you scared of me, Princess?

Ever since then, there were oceans between you that you could only dream of crossing. He smelled good, you couldn’t help breathing in his fresh aura. The dimly lit room seemed to fade away just for a moment, and you wondered if he was effected like you were.

"Now, focus," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, though you maintained a level of indifference in your tone.

Taehyung's breath hitched imperceptibly, but he composed himself, focusing on the game. With your guidance, he took the shot, sinking the ball into the pocket expertly.

"Perfect," you praised, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "See, you’re a natural yet again. A true Kim”

Taehyung turned to face you, his gaze intense. "Anything I am is because of you”

You stiffened. His words were both a compliment and an accusation. God, seeing this side of him made him even more terrifying, because you didn’t trust yourself not to buy into the fact that he was some pure, innocent version of his older brother. He wasn’t. Kim Taehyung was unhinged. Any second he could snap, and you were on eggshells.

“Your turn” He handed back the cue. A few shots later, the two of you were neck and neck. The ocean between you two drying up slowly with every exchange of banter.

“Done with love, huh?”

You circled him as he lined up his next shot.

“What exactly did the Detective do to make you say something like that?”

You pursed your lips. “Why, gonna go beat him up?”

With a flick of his shoulder, the ball went in. Taehyung stood straight. “Maybe. What’d he do?”

He leaned against the table, handing you the cue as you positioned yourself. “He lied. He betrayed me. And I’m tired of loving liars”

“Didn’t you also lie to him?” He challenged. You shot him a glare. “Why haven’t you told him everything?”

You hit your mark. You missed. Taehyung’s blatant honesty was always unnerving. He wasn’t one to play games. “It’s complicated. I didn’t trust him. I still don’t trust him”

“And you expected him to trust you” Taehyung shrugged blandly. He stole the cue from your hand and before you could blink, he snapped the final shot. “Seems fair”

Taehyung’s last ball went in.

He beat you.

“Well” Taehyung huffed, trying to hide his gleaming pleasure. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “I suppose that’s that” He looked at you expectantly.

“Okay Kim Taehyung, what wish can I grant you?” Cue in hand, you pretended to curtsy. Taehyung grabbed the end of the stick, using it to tug you towards him.

The space between you vanished. Only the cue between you, until Taehyung pulled it from your grip and set it aside.

There was something unrecognizable in his eyes. He licked his lips unconsciously.

“Well?” You looked up at him, suddenly aware of his height.

His fingers held your chin, tilting your face upward. Except his touch wasn’t harsh. Wasn’t painful.

Taehyung inhaled.

Your eyes widened as he closed his mouth over yours. His eyes shut—kissing you with a depraved delicateness. As if he was drinking your soul like he was the devil himself.

A touch so tender, and yet it seemed to steal away every last bit of purity within you, leaving behind a raging storm. Activating something so sinful—so wicked. All due to the decadent taste of his delicate lips.

He pushed your mouth open, deepening the kiss. And you—you were lost. Still utterly shocked that—Kim Taehyung was kissing you. The Kim Taehyung that wanted you dead. The Kim Taehyung who blamed you for everything—was actually kissing you.

It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. The two of you no longer had to get engaged, but you lived with the man. And he was gorgeous. His quiet, mesmerizing charm. Enigmatic, smoldering and yet so calm. Who knew beneath that cold demeanor there was a tsunami waiting to be unleashed? 

He didn’t give you an opportunity to question him. His lips felt too good on yours for you to care. The casino around you seemed to vortex—everything spinning: the colorful lights—until you were airborne.

Floating. Dizzy. Afraid to fall but so fucking glad you were in the sky.

His mouth coaxed out your fierceness until you began to feel impatient. You placed your hand on his pounding chest, a light push until he sat down on the bench. You slid into his lap, no longer thinking—no longer caring that you were in public. That there was a room full of people in the casino who could be staring. Taking pictures. Gossiping.

They were all dead for all you cared.

You gasped audibly, a soft moan as he pulled you impossibly closer. You were losing your breath. On the verge of fainting—overwhelmed with sensations. Everything was heightened—everything felt alive.

His hand was behind your neck, the other one on the small of your back. Both yours in his wavy black—cloud like hair.

He pulled away, finally—barely. Catching his breath. His chest rising as fast as yours, offset by his erratic heartbeat. He was nervous.

Was that his first kiss?

He swallowed, uncomfortably on edge. His eyes were dark with desire. An angry kind of lust.

You searched your mind for words. Something to tell him that he did so good. That you loved it—and you wanted more. He was searching your gaze for something, but you were speechless.

So you kissed him again. Because how the hell else are you supposed to communicate.

“Taehyung” Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. You shifted, letting your body roll against his. Grinding against him slow and sensual, letting your movements mimic those of your lips. He was hard—painstakingly so. And he felt so good tucked between your legs. Throbbing for you. Both his hands lowered to your hips, then back up your back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you—or maybe he couldn’t believe you were real.

His hold was strong—not rough. Touch intentional but not desperate. He took his time with you as if he had all the time in the world, but was still somehow starved. Drinking from you was his only salvation. You—you were his salvation. And he was your ruin.

He pushed you away, suddenly. You blinked, dizzy from the loss of touch. Sensitive and damp, heart throbbing fast. He didn’t meet your gaze.

“Fuck”

You could see the judgmental stares all around. Rolling your jaw you smirked at the crowd.

“We own this place. I’d mind your business”

The chatter dissipated. You redirected your attention back onto Taehyung.

“Taehyung?” Your voice was soft. “You okay?”

You noticed how tightly he was gripping the table. His head down, looking anywhere but up at you. Eyes wide, spiraling in thought.

“I—” He exhaled, closing his eyes again.

Was he--?

You couldn’t help yourself. You knew he’d despise you for it—but Kim Taehyung already despised you. You weren’t going to pass up a chance to feel him cum.

You shifted his chair so he was facing away from prying eyes. Carefully you snuck under the pool table, clawing at his pants.

His fingers pulled your hand away. A warning glare.

You yanked your hand away, unzipping his pants and letting his pretty cock spring free.

You clicked your tongue. Poor thing was ready to burst.

Licking your lips, you let your tongue glide from his base all the way up his length where you left a soft, sweet kiss on his tip. You slid his tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked.

Flattening your tongue, you let his cock rest there. Like a dog, you waited for him to cum all over you.

Then you looked up at him.

His eyes locked onto yours—and they were wild.

He hissed, shooting into your mouth. You drank up everything he had to give—and it was quite a bit. He bucked over, knuckles turning white. The bite into his lip released blood with how hard he was trying to stay quiet. You let him push his cock into the hollow of your cheek and spurts continued to flow out of him. You rested your hand on his knee, and his hand covered yours. Holding it tenderly—as if he were thanking you.

You cleaned him up quickly, before returning to your seat, adjusting your dress inconspicuously.

You grinned at him, but he was not amused at all. Still panting.

“Was that your wish?” You beamed at him. He chuckled softly.

“I just wanted to know what it felt like”

It was an innocent intention. Almost heartwarming.

“And, what do you think?” You leaned into him, “Did I rock your world, Kim Taehyung?”

“You are my world. There was never a doubt”

His eyes glossed over. You wanted to melt in his gaze. Unravel. Instead, you were plunged into cold water.

“Fancy seeing you two here”

The hairs on your body straightened. Chills seeping over you at the familiar voice, laced with betrayal.

“Jung Hoseok” He extended a hand to Taehyung, “Pleasure’s all mine baby boy” Taehyung skeptically shook it.

-

Hobi was extremely amused at what he had walked in on. Of course, a whore like you would take a matter of days to wrap the young Kim boy around your finger.

“Nice job leashing the puppy” He muttered, cigarette at the edge of his lips. The smoke wisping past your unamused expression.

“I should kill you” Hobi grinned at your response.

“No need,” He tapped the cigarette ash on the edge of the ash tray. He had brough you to his private booth. Leaving Taehyung for the wolves.

“What do you want, Hobi? I don’t want to leave Taehyung alone too long”

“Why?” He leaned closer to you. His hand resting on your bare thigh. Your dress was so fucking slutty, he loved it. He always loved the way you’d dress to gamble. As if your body gave you an edge—it did. He knew you crumbled rich playboy’s resolve with one bat of your pretty eyes. “Are you so desperate for dick you’d take your lover’s little brother’s virginity?”

You rolled your eyes. “I asked you a fucking question,”

“A birdy told me that you found out about Jin’s daddy”

You squinted at him. “What about it?”

“Don’t you want to know the whole story?” Hobi’s fingers hooked under the straps of your dress, playing with them. “Of the infamous Jeon family? And your mother—the woman who tore down a legacy”

His hand slid between your legs.

“Long long ago, the entire arms distribution business lay in the hands of one famous Korean gangster. Jeon Junghyun.”

He brushed against your clit. Gentle circles while he gazed into your eyes. A wicked grin. Like he could kiss you or stab you in the back.

You latched onto his arm as he lured you towards an orgasm. His face burying against your neck, breathing you in as he continued to touch you. Nothing except your soft whimpers in the air.

The heat from his body infected your every nerve. His breath scalding over your cheek.

“Then there was this clever little bitch” You inhaled sharply, edging forward towards your high. He could tell—because he pressed a little harder.

“Who manipulated her way to the top. Gained favor of everyone under him and took him out with a stab to the back” His hands roamed your body, sliding up your dress. He pushed the fabric up until it bunched up above your breasts which he grabbed at eagerly.

Thumbs rolling over your nipples, he continued “She took everything from him, leaving him and his two sons to rot. But she wasn’t cruel. She let him stay as her right-hand”

Hobi left a soft kiss against your left breast. Then another. And another. His thumb back onto your clit, he licked and suckled you. You gasped—looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Curving into his touch.

“She grew the business. An arms distribution pipeline can be used for a lot of things. She went legit. Bought out other companies with the blood money. Began distributing just about everything.”

He licked your lips. The sensation like that of slowly sinking into absolute, soft bliss. Licking down your jaw, fluttering desperate hisses across your neck.

Then, he slipped one finger in—your face heating at the sound. You clenched around the protrusion and he reached deep inside. Working you slowly, carefully—before adding in another.

His kisses trailed back up to your mouth. His breaths were heavy, swallowing your moans. It was hauntingly intimate.

“Hobi” You pleaded, gripping onto him as you shook. Orgasm sweeping over you like an earthquake. Tremors from your heart to every finger and toe in your body. He was so wildly aroused that he couldn’t look away. His fingers were steady nevertheless, pumping you through it. “Fuck, Hobi please”

“Jeon Jungkook wants you dead sweetheart” The pain from his words pushed you over the edge. You soaked over his fingers, twitching wildly. “And so did his hyung. Kim Seokjin.”

-

The brisk night air bit at your skin as you seized Taehyung's wrist, pulling him outside. People were chattering, smoking cigars, the lights from the casinos madness still polluting the air. Limousines, sleek and imposing, formed a line ready to usher the remaining guests to their destinations.

Waving down a driver, you led Taehyung inside one. The plush leather seats cool against your exposed legs. The interior lit so you could see him in front of you, clear as day.

The light shut. Instead there were light sparkles on the ceiling of the limo as it began to move. The champagne swirled in your mind as you leaned back, looking out the window. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Like a rush, you wanted to lose yourself.

Your eyes shut for a moment. Remembering the way the light danced on your fac when you were with Jungkook that night at the club. Yearning for his touch, the look in his eyes when he told you how he felt.

You swallowed thickly, heart in too much pain to go down that road. You looked at Taehyung next to you, instinctively reaching out to touch his face. Gently, you took hold of his chin, coaxing his gaze to meet yours.

Your thumb traced over his cheek. Fingers dancing over his soft, delicate skin. His eyes fluttered close as you did. Teasing the edge of his lips ever so lightly. He really was a beautiful man. His lips looked soft. Devastating, with the way his shaken breath made them tremble.

He leaned into your touch, your fingers sliding up over his ear, pushing his hair out of his face. It felt like you were getting kicked in the chest repeatedly. Every part of you feeling numb but simultaneously sensitive to even the slightest movement of air.

He exhaled. The flow of his breath wavering. Or was it a moan, you weren’t sure.

You were about to pull your hand away, until Taehyung’s over fingers gripped your wrist. He stared at you, pupils wide. It was these moments where you felt like you could see him. His soft, vulnerable side, behind those concrete walls.

To your surprise, he brought your hand up to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.

His lips softly melted into the sensitive area. Your breath hitched.

It was furiously intimate.

Holding your hand still, his eyes blinked back up at you. Almost as though he were asking permission.

Your throat was dry. The alcohol loosening the knots on your sense of logic.  

His eyes traced over you, dipping down your entire body. The way he sat, leaning so his knees almost touched yours. The leather suddenly felt so hot against your skin. Under his flaming stare.

He inhaled, steady, before leaning into you. Tracing his nose behind your ear. You shivered. His touch making you dizzy. Needy. Quivering.

“You looked beautiful tonight”

They were plain words.

When he said them, they meant the world. Something bloomed inside you. You were spinning and breathless, mouth parting in shock. His lips barely grazing under your jaw.

He backed away, putting distance between you yet again.

-

Namjoon stood in the foyer, waiting for you to come home. The moment the door swung open, you darted into his embrace. It felt like a familiar haven, and he effortlessly hoisted you up, cradling you in a desperate hug, afraid you might vanish if he let go.

"I missed you," Namjoon murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before reluctantly releasing you. His gaze then shifted to Taehyung, pride in his voice. "You too. You look great, Taehyung. I heard you went to the casino."

Taehyung's response was measured. "Are you out on bail?"

"No," Namjoon replied with a hint of bitterness, "Yoongi blackmailed Jungkook into letting me go."

Your heart tightened at his name.

"Where is he? I want to see him”

“Absolutely not” Namjoon was firm. “We don’t know how dangerous he is. I have some of my guys looking into it with Yoongi. He sure as hell had been in contact with Jin in the weeks leading up to his murder”

Namjoon cupped your face. “But other than that, it’s over. He won’t contact you. You’re free. I don’t want you worrying about this anymore”

You wanted to laugh at the term. Free. Especially since Namjoon was already back to telling you what you could and couldn’t do.

“What about Nexus?”

Namjoon smiled, taking your hand in his. “Come with me,”

You followed him. Taehyung a few paces behind. Namjoon brought you into the garden. There were a million fireflies. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at Taehyung, wondering if he remembered your tender moment in this same spot.

Namjoon lowered onto one knee.

Fuck. It was one of those moments where everything was so still. So quiet yet extremely loud in your chest. He smiled. Eyes meeting yours. Brimming.

“Marry me”

Your mouth was dry. The moisture building in your eyes instead. It hurt, deep inside because your mind took you to a certain tattooed, mean and yet tender man who you had left behind.

“Let me give you everything, Y/n” Namjoon continued, “The papers. The stocks. The business. You deserve it all and I will give it to you. I’ve done you wrong, and I know you aren’t where I am. I know you loved someone else”

His proposal hung in the luminous space. His words echoed in your ears. His gaze held both sincerity and vulnerability. He waited for your response, standing up so his fingers could brush against the side of your face. The fireflies flickered like stars behind him.

“I hope someday, it can be more than an arrangement. Someday you might love me the way I love you. But for now, I wanted you to have the option. I will give you everything, I promise”

Tears blurred your vision, and you took a steadying breath. "Namjoon," you whispered, your voice fragile yet resolute. Suddenly, with the prize standing in front of you, waiting for your claim, you realized how serious your answer was. If you married Namjoon, you were signing a deal with the devil. There would be no going back.

"I need time."

His eyes reflected understanding, and he stood, pulling you into a tender embrace. "Take all the time you need," he murmured against your hair.

You could still feel Taehyung watching the scene unfold. His expression unreadable, he retreated into the shadows.

Namjoon walked you to your bedroom, and you kissed him goodnight. He urged you not to stress. To take all the time and he’d be there, waiting when you were ready. No rush. This is what you’d wanted.

So why was it so hard to say yes?

Jungkook’s face engraved into your mind. Your gut flipping. You needed to find him. Needed to talk to him without Namjoon finding out. Your phone began to buzz. Hope coursed through you. Maybe it was him.

You answered quickly, excited.

“Don’t marry him”

There was no way.

“You’re mine”

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: its been a fucking MINUTE. idek how to do thia anymore, please enjoy and let me know what you think !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TAEHYUNG omfg come scream with me pls thanks

and thank you for reading you hawtie <3

[c0sm1c-c01nc1dence]

Red

✧ Pairing: Hunter x human!reader ✧

✧ Content/warnings: Soulmate AU, takes place during season 3, use of the word ‘damn’ once, the title is bland and I’m sorry, Hunter and the reader are both dorks, first post on here!! ✧

The “rules” for soulmates, as it were, were pretty straightforward. You see everything in the color of your soulmates eyes. Once you make eye contact with them you can see in full, proper colors. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Well, not for you, it wasn’t.

You, for the past sixteen or so years of your life, had been seeing nothing but red. Different shades, thank god, but red nonetheless. And to be frank, you were getting pretty damn fed up with it. The thing is that no one naturally has red eyes. And you would know; you’ve googled it maybe a thousand times already.

So you were fairly certain you didn’t have a soulmate, and this was all some cruel joke from the universe. But life marches on, so there’s no time to dwell on that, is there?

───── ───── ───── ─────

Another day at Gravesfield’s high school, bland as ever. At least until you caught a glance at your friend Luz. Rather, former friend. She’d been acting weird ever since she came back from that ‘reality check’ camp. And not standard Luz weird, no— she’d been avoiding you since then. Acting like she didn’t know you at all whenever you approached her, not to mention her sudden lack of interest in anything she used to like. The Good Witch Azura books, most notably.

So, needless to say, you were a bit surprised at her new look. Curly hair, a new scar over her eyebrow, and a general air of seasonal depression about her. Even though your recent interactions hadn’t gone so smoothly, you couldn’t help but ask. You were still allowed to care about her.

“Luz?” You called out from down the school hallway. She turned her head in your direction, and you could practically see the stars in her eyes when she saw you. She ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. Stumbling backwards, you hesitantly returned the gesture. “Good to see you too?” You awkwardly pat her back, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Y/N, I am so glad to see you! Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” She backed away and wiped a small tear from her eye.

“We saw each other yesterday, though?” You chuckled, still perplexed by this whole situation. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re kinda acting like you just came back from war right now.” Her face fell slightly, but her smile quickly returned.

“Meet me at my house once school’s done, ok? I have… a lot to tell you.” You nodded, and watched her just walk away casually after that interaction.

“Cool. Good talk, I guess?”

───── ───── ───── ─────

“So, if I’m following,” You began, now in the Noceda family’s living room. “You didn’t go to summer camp, but instead spent several months in a fantasy world, and the Luz I’ve been interacting with is actually a shape-shifting basilisk.” You pointed to Vee, who nodded shyly. “And in this fantasy world you became a witch, made a bunch of new friends, and got a girlfriend.” You left out the details involving Belos and the Collector, deciding that you didn’t need to recap whatever nonsense was going on there.

“Yeah, actually. You’re handling this surprisingly well.” Luz noted.

“I think I’m still in shock, to be honest.” You laugh a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what she’d been through during those months, and you kind of didn’t want to. “So, more importantly, do I get to meet these new people?” You questioned, and her face brightened.

“Of course! They’re upstairs, so let me go get them and I’ll be right back.” You waited downstairs with Vee, exchanging basic small talk. She apologized for the whole ‘impersonating one of your few friends’ thing, which was nice of her. Eventually Luz came back, new friends and girlfriend following behind her.

“Alright! Everyone this is Y/N.” You gave a polite wave, quickly scanning over the group. “Y/N, this is Willow, Gus, Amity, and Hunter.” You got a proper look at all of them as she said their names, your eyes landing on the blond last. Wait a minute, blond?!

As it would turn out, when you made eye contact with Hunter you could suddenly see a lot more colors. He clearly noticed this as well, as a light blush was present on his cheeks and ears. You could feel some heat rise to your own face as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Luz asked, noticing your stunned silence.

“I, uh…” you stumbled over your words like an idiot, still staring at him. Saving what little dignity you had left, your phone dinged from your pocket. Checking the notification, you gave an awkward smile and held it up to the group. “Oh! You know what, that’s my dad. He probably wants me home for dinner!” You put your phone back in your pocket, and began approaching the door. “I’ll see you guys later, okay, bye!”

You got the words out as quickly as you could, and bolted as soon as the door was open. You ran back to your house, face still flushed from embarrassment and being generally flustered, leaving a room full of witches (and one human) awfully confused.

“Hunter, what was that about?” Willow asked, as he still stared at the spot where you once were.

“Um- good question.”

───── ───── ───── ─────

Later that day, Hunter knocked on the door to Luz’s bedroom.

“Come in.” She said idly, distracted by whatever she had been playing on her Switch. He entered her room, hands anxiously fidgeting at his sides. There wasn’t a particularly easy way to say this, so he just bit the bullet.

“So, you know the whole thing with your soulmate, and how you’ll only see in their eye color until you make eye contact?”

“Yeah?” She encouraged, curiosity evident in her tone.

“Well, it’s possible that maybe, perhaps, Y/Nismysoulmate.”

“What?!” She immediately paused her game, and whipped around to face him. “Really?! Tell me everything!” She sat on the ground and patted the spot next to her, encouraging him to sit down. He did so, face red from having to explain the whole ordeal.

“There’s nothing to tell! I used to only see e/c, I looked at them, now I can see every color, and they— I always thought your hair was black, by the way— and they just ran away!” As Luz sat and processed this information, Hunter continued thinking out loud. “Did they not like me or something? Is it because I’m from the Boiling Isles?” He questioned, grabbing the pointed tips of his ears. Cutting his rambling short, Luz spoke up.

“No, I don’t think so. They were always interested in fantasy like I was. Maybe they were just a bit overwhelmed?” She suggested. He sighed.

“I guess that could have been it.” He said, though the anxiety was still clear on his face.

“Hey, how about I try to get them to come over this weekend? You guys can talk about it then.” He nodded, and watched her grab her phone to message you. Titan, he hoped she was right about this.

───── ───── ───── ─────

A few days had gone by since the whole incident with Hunter. You had been avoiding him since then, though you honestly weren’t sure why. If you had to, though, you’d say it was probably out of shock. I mean, you were convinced you didn’t have a soulmate for years. And now this incredibly good-looking boy comes in from another realm, and he’s supposedly perfect for you? It’s absurd!

Though it was also worry. How would a relationship between the two of you even work out? He’d have to go home eventually, and you probably couldn’t come with him. Maybe he wouldn’t even like you after the way you left the other day, and he’d reject you before you even had a chance. That’d put a quick and easy end to all this.

You’d been really sick of the color red these past couple days. You usually were, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Though you couldn’t avoid your problems forever, despite your best efforts. Luz had invited you over for a board game night to celebrate the two of you reuniting. And, well… who were you to say no?

───── ───── ───── ─────

The day finally came, and it had been going relatively well so far. No one else seemed to know what had happened or why you left that first time you came over. Though you and Hunter had been carefully dancing around each other the whole time. It seemed neither of you were equipped to talk about your feelings at the moment. But were you really ever?

Eventually you saw him slip out the front door. With a sigh, you decided to finally face the problem. No use in stalling any more than you already have. After telling Luz that you were going outside for a moment, you stepped out and saw Hunter sitting on the steps leading to the front door. He turned around at the noise, and immediately turned back the other way when he saw it was you. Wordlessly, you sat down next to him. After a moment, he finally broke the silence.

“You look really nice.” You glanced at him, and saw the pink dusting his face. You smiled at the way his blush would spill out onto his ears.

“Thanks, but I’m not really wearing anything special.”

“I know,” He continued, finally meeting your eyes. “I just mean, like- you look nice. You’re really cute.”

“Oh.” You said, quite simply, now blushing a bit as well. You looked at the ground beneath you, pondering how exactly to go about this. “So, this whole ‘soulmate’ thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” Was all he managed. His hands toyed with his pants, still a bit nervous about this whole ordeal. Unable to find the words he wanted, Hunter just looked out at the surrounding neighborhood for a bit. Eventually, though, he said the one thing that was on his mind at the moment. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if I may suggest something scandalous?” His blush deepened at your words, but quickly faded as he watched you intertwine your hand with his own.

“Wow, and we’re not even married yet.” He joked. You put your free hand up defensively.

“I know, I know! What can I say, I like to live on the edge.” He laughed, and you silently basked in the sound. You set your eyes on the sky above you, a handful of stars already visible in the late evening’s light. Maybe red isn’t half bad after all.

[reagent-leon]

If I had any say in the development of The Outlast Trials, my plea to Red Barrels would be this: expand on the characters you’ve already got instead of adding new ones. Franco, the Pitcher, Amelia, Henrietta, they’ve all been great. But do you know what’s been one of my favourite updates? The one for the Imposter. Making them able to interact with players more. I was hanging out with one for quite a while in Kill the Snitch, thinking it was my buddy @cannibalizedcadavers. He even offered me a lockpick, and if Danny hadn’t picked up a key elsewhere in the trial at that exact moment, I would’ve taken the bait and gotten stabbed. I got out of there sharpish, but it was super unsettling being misled like that, much better than the telltale giggling they used to do. 

I feel like they should add new mechanics to the guys already on the roster, refine them a little, maybe even design alternative versions. There are supposed to be multiple Pushers, multiple Night Hunters, multiple Pitchers, and yet they all have the same voice lines and appearance. The Jaeger being unique makes sense because she’s Henrietta, and we know some of the other ex-pops have names, Frank, George, Danny, etc. But we see two heavy ex-pops die. The Black Big Grunt dies twice in Franco’s trials (that I can recall), first in Poison the Medicine, then again in Poison the Cattle. So, where does that fit into the timeline? I take it we’re supposed to assume it's a different Big Grunt. 

Teach the old dogs some new tricks instead of trying to distract us with new playmates. Refine some new mechanics or behaviours, even if they’re not strictly player-related.

I’ve always found it odd that ex-pops don’t react to one another, or at least not to the Prime Assets. I’m not asking for Prime Time-level dialogue, just something, especially from specialist ex-pops. I think they’d all have something funny to say about the Pusher, and the Pusher mistakenly thinking he’s still their doctor? Come on. Give me some chemistry between the characters. There’s a severe lack of interactivity within the game, both with the characters and their environments. Actually, I think it’s only Franco and maaaaybe Phyllis who mention there’s something weird about their respective trial environments.

The Prime Assets are supposed to be these charismatic leaders, but we never get to see Phyllis playing mother hen, Coyle playing drill sergeant, or Franco building up a new gang. There’s a lot of tell, don’t show, which made sense in the beginning. I admit that during Amelia’s Escape, I was hoping to see more of the Sinyala Facility. Specifically, I was hoping to get a peek at where they’re keeping the ex-pops when they’re not in active trials. I’m imagining an asylum-type environment, which at some point could be used as a map itself. Imagine trying to escape and instead winding up in a sleep room full of ex-pops who want you dead. I know the developers have talked about this before, but I’m sorry, with how volatile the ex-pops are, I cannot see them all getting along enough to be in a sleep room like the Reagents. There must be containment procedures, something to keep them more docile when they aren’t on patrol. 

Also, they fucking killed Clyde Perry. I was really hoping to see him in-game, even if he was just looking down on us like Wernicke, maybe hear some voice lines from him. But no. He’s gone. Wasted just to big up Henrietta’s arrival. It’s interesting that both Clyde and Henrietta were victimised by Coyle, and it was Henrietta who ended Clyde. I really wonder how the Jaeger will work in Coyle’s trial environments. Because surely she’d want revenge? She could crack him like a pistachio, especially with all her new enhancements. How are they going to keep Coyle safe? Just not let them out of the insertion gate at the same time? Seems reasonable, I guess. But they probably won’t think it through that thoroughly.

I wish that story informed gameplay in more ways than just introducing new hazards. I don’t need gas or frost. What I need is for the Prime Assets to bark at their underlings and call the Pitcher a creepy bastard. For general ex-pops to maybe keep their distance from Prime Assets, or risk friendly fire.

--------

UPDATE

So, as you probably guessed, I started writing this before the Jaeger was released (21st April, to be exact). And just as I suspected, there’s no new dialogue between ex-pops. I expected Henrietta/the Jaeger to at least hint at something to do with Coyle. Coyle’s voice actor, Julian Bailey, seems to be tied up with other acting work at the moment, so I suppose I can understand why we’re not getting anything new from him. But come on, there’s no hostility from the Jaeger towards him? Nothing about the man who is responsible for what’s happened to her? No long-standing fear of cops or men in general? 

Uuuuugh. I just wish it mattered more which ex-pops are actually in the trial, and that they acknowledged their surroundings. Phyllis mentions feeling like she’s living the same day over and over again, and that the doctors have “moved things around again”. But she was also the one to notice Amelia running around and that the rules were changing.

I suppose this is more of a vent piece than my usual analysis-style post. In between these big, story-altering events, I’d love it if Red Barrels would sneak in some little character updates, additional dialogue, maybe a few model changes. Something. Anything. Something more than just evidence documents.

[youwillfindilluminating]

screaming, crying, more detailed kastle-scene reactions under the cut:

“Aftershave and a haircut? That all for me?” AHHHHH! Frank cleaned himself up for Karen! Karen CALLED HIM and he promised her he’d save Matt. But of course he doesn’t tell Matt it was all for Karen.

Matt and Frank’s bickering is always going to be a highlight for me. Although I am getting tired of Matt refusing to kill people. The part where they were arguing and Matt yells at Frank to shut up because he hears a grenade was very amusing to me. More of that in S2 please!

Karen offering to check Frank’s wounds!!! Let her help you, you asshole!!! It’s all I’ve ever wanted!!! And of course he doesn’t let her and then tries to smooth things over with coffee. And they stare awkwardly longingly at each other while Matt sits in the corner and listens to their HEARTBEATS. Somebody sedate me. For a minute here, Frank looks like an awkward teenage boy and it kills me. (Sidenote: I KNEW Frank was looking at Karen in that production still from this scene. He has “I’m looking at Karen” eyes.)

I feel like the reason he didn’t let her check his wounds is because it would have been TOO MUCH FOR HIM to have her that close and worrying about him and touching him and-

Frank doesn’t go with them to investigate, which… I realize he can’t be in every scene, but I’d love it if he never let Karen out of his sight again. He’s so hot and cold here. Trying to push her away but he CAN’T DO IT.

“I don’t believe you don’t care,” Karen says as Matt leaves them alone even though he can still hear everything they’re saying.

“You asked me for a favor. I did it,” Frank says with his sad eyes. Because he would do ANYTHING. FOR. HER.

“Stay safe.” (KILL MEEEEEE!!!)

And of course he ends up protecting her later anyway. OF COURSE.

Matt asking Karen if she talks to Frank a lot. “It sounds like you’re jealous.” !!!!

MATT HEARD THEIR HEARTBEATS!!! And Karen asks if he heard Frank’s too!!!!!!! I will scream about this until the day I die.

Frank goes out to protect them and of course he gets captured and beaten to shit! :(

I fucking love the effect of the city lights being turned on at the end of Karen and Matt’s talk at the port. So cool!

The shot of Frank in a cage immediately followed by the shot of Karen at Josie’s with her big blue eyes! Radiohead was a nice choice here, I think.

Frank using his charms to get the guard to shake his hand. Ohhh these guards will never stop fanboying him. It's delicious to see him use that against them. I want Frank to break out, but I also dream of a moment where Matt and Karen bust him out and we get a beautiful Kastle hurt/comfort moment.

A couple small gripes: The soundtrack could use work. They’re really overusing “our lady of soundtrack sorrow” during the emotional scenes and it’s taking me out of it a bit.

Karen needs a lip. Like I realize she’s dressed down, but put her in a tinted chapstick or something!

Another sidenote: Turns out she wasn’t wearing Frank’s clothes OR a bulletproof vest. It was just the line of her shirt/hair in the trailer.

In short: I’ll be a Kastle shipper til the day I die, but there is room in my heart for some Frank/Karen/Matt OT3.

[jamesmydeer]

Hey! I have an idea for a Remus x fem!reader. They volunteer to babysit Neville and Harry(both James, Lily and Frank, Alice are ok) and kids try to set them up, get them to play games like Reader being a princess who they have to rescue and Remus - the knight, who has to kiss her (smth like Sleeping Beauty).

true love’s kiss

notes: if you can’t tell, i love writing dialogue.

wc: 2.8k

masterlist

Laughter filled the Potter household as James hoisted his son, Harry, and the Longbottom’s boy, Neville onto his shoulders. Harry threw his fists into the air, obviously used to his father’s antics. Neville gripped onto James’ arm and held on for his life.

“Potter and Longbottom have done it again! The quidditch cup goes to Gryffindor! The crowd goes wild,” he yells, bouncing up and down as if he were celebrating a big win from back in his quidditch days.

“Inside voice, James Potter,” Lily remarked, entering the room with her purse in hand and James’ coat thrown over her shoulder. He groaned and rolled his eyes playfully. “Fine.”

The boys giggled as James pretended to drop them and quietly mimicked the loud murmur of a crowd.

Lily plopped her stuff down on the table and turned to Alice, who was making sure Neville had everything he needed in his bag.

“Okay, I’ve got all my stuff, Frank is laying out the boys’ pajamas, James cast a protective spell on the house, I think we’re good to go!” She turned to look at the clock on the wall. “Remus should be here any minute now.”

“Uncle Moony!” Harry cheered, having overheard his mom’s conversation. “He’ll give us lots of chocolate. Just don’t tell my mom,” he informed Neville who nodded his head eagerly, pretending to zip his lips shut.

Alice turned to Lily with a confused look on her face as she queried, “You asked Remus to babysit?”

James walked towards the pair and grabbed his coat from Lily, kissing her cheek. “Well yeah Alice, leaving them with Sirius would be as good as leaving them alone.”

“It’s not that, I just thought I was supposed to find someone to watch them. Y/n is on her way.”

“Aunt Y/n!” both the young boys cheered. They couldn’t believe their luck at having two babysitters instead of one. Alice, on the other hand, was not as pleased with her mess up. She brought her hands up and covered her face as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. Two for the price of one,” James joked, slipping his coat on. He paused momentarily. “Except we’re not paying them, right?”

"We might have to pay Y/n if Remus loads them up with sugar," Frank chuckled, entering the room and throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“Maybe the boys can play matchmaker,” Lily raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Give them that little push they need.”

“The one they’ve needed since third year?” Alice adds. A knock at the door had everyone’s heads turning. James turned to walk toward the door, but the boys beat him to it.

“We’ll get it!” Neville exclaimed, racing Harry to the door. They opened it and you scooped them up immediately, playfully tickling them.

“How are my favorite boys in the whole world?” you asked, pinching their cheeks which earned a groan from both of them.

“You better not let Moony hear you say that. He might get jealous,” James teased. You rolled your eyes at James and set the boys down. You had just stepped foot in his house and he was already teasing you about your crush.

“Well it’s a good thing he’s not here, isn’t it?”

Lily and Frank looked at you apologetically, Frank sucking in through his teeth. James and Alice shared a similar expression of holding back laughter.

Your face dropped. “What did you do?”

James grabbed you and pulled you into the kitchen, Lily following suit. “So there may have been a wee bit of confusion on our part,” Lily starts to explain.

“No no no, this is a good thing!” James started, attempting to keep the situation strictly positive. He gripped your shoulders and looked into your eyes as if he was about to give you a pep talk. “You get to be alone with Remus for a whole afternoon. When was the last time you two were alone together?”

Lily was about to chime in that they would be watching his son, not alone, when there was a knock at the door.

“There’s your Moony,” James teased. He smoothed out your hair, jokingly making sure you looked good for Remus. He had known about your little crush since third year, but he still acted as if it were a big deal.

“You see him all the time Y/n. Just act like you always do around him,” Lily rubbed your shoulder comfortingly, then exited the kitchen to greet the second babysitter. You turned to follow her but stopped momentarily to punch James in the arm.

Lily opened the door for Remus who kissed her on the cheek. “Where’s the little tyke? Haven’t seen him all week,” he moved into the living room looking for Harry but was met with another familiar face.

He straightened up at the sight of you, his features softening slightly as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I didn’t know you were fifth wheeling with these guys tonight,” he joked, butterflies filling his stomach as you laughed at him.

“I’m not. They’ve started a babysitters' club and were the only two members.”

Remus looked between the two couples who just shrugged at him.

“Do you four not communicate?” Remus scolded playfully. Hearing his voice, Harry ran into the room and jumped into his arms. Remus threw him in the air and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re lucky I like Remus,” you quipped. “Had it been someone else, I would’ve gone straight back out that door.”

James snuck a quick look at Remus and wiggled his eyebrows. He walked towards him and took Harry, all the while leaning in to whisper in his ear teasingly “She said she likes youuuu.”

Had James not been holding his son, Remus would have shoved him.

“I’m sorry you guys, I’ve just been so scatterbrained lately,” Lily apologized, kissing both of your cheeks in passing as she headed to the table to grab her purse.

You both reassured Lily that it was okay and both couples were ushered out of the door by their excited children.

“We love you, Harry, behave!”

“Mind your manners, Neville!”

The boys shut the door behind their parents and turned to each other. Neville winked at Harry in a way that looked a lot more like an exaggerated scrunch of his face. Harry nodded and scurried back into the living room, Neville a few steps behind him.

“Aunt Y/n, will you read to us?” Harry begged. Neville assisted by giving you the cutest pleading eyes you had ever seen. And although they looked adorable, you couldn’t help but think they were up to something.

You shot Remus a confused smile at the boy's behavior. He just shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. “Of course, she will. You boys go pick out a book.”

You giggled as they scurried away towards Harry’s room. You turned to Remus, who was already looking your way, a soft smile on his face. A blush ran up his face as he averted eye contact and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I can go make them a snack while you read,” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. He wanted to stay and listen to your pretty voice, but he was discouraged at the idea of you catching him staring again. 

“What? You don’t want to stay and hear me read the story they pick?” you pouted playfully.

Remus bit back a smile, pretending that he was having to think about it. On cue, the boys came running back in with their choice of book and settled on the couch beside you. They looked expectantly at Remus.

“Well, make room for me.” You met his eyes and smiled brightly at his statement. You grabbed the book from Harry’s little hands.

“Hmm, Sleeping Beauty. This is a very good pick.”

Harry and Neville snuggled into either side of you as you read. Remus observed the way you animatedly told the story. The way your lips moved with each word had him in a trance. It reminded him of how he used to sit in the library, hopelessly watching you study with a lovesick smile. He closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like if you read to him—just him.

Before he knew it, he was being shaken out of his trance by two eager little boys. The story was over and they needed something else to entertain them.

“Uncle Moony, will you please be the prince? Please please please?” Harry begged, holding his hands together in front of his face. Remus couldn’t help but scoff, seeing so much of his father in him. He looked at you for help as to what exactly they were asking him.

You giggle at the boys. “They want to play knights, Remus. They need a prince,” you playfully cleared up his confusion. He smiled at you and turned back to the boys.

“Oh, I see now,” he nodded his head in understanding. “And why do I have to be the prince?”

Harry and Neville shared a look as if the question was absurd. Remus could sense them growing impatient, so he stood up and allowed them to drag him away. He turned back to you and playfully mouthed ‘help’. You giggled and he couldn’t help the feeling of pride that came along with making you laugh.

Harry stopped and ran back towards you. He stood on his tiptoes and cupped his hand to the side of his mouth. You leaned down and craned your neck for him to whisper in your ear, a skill he hadn’t quite honed yet. “You’re the princess. Pretend to be in a deep sleep like Aurora.”

You pulled away and Remus held back a laugh as you wiped your ear. You mouthed an ‘OK’ and he ran back towards Remus to drag him away.

Once alone, you couldn’t help but ponder Remus’ question about having to be the prince. He was always like a prince to you. A blush creeps up your neck as you recall all the books you read about princes, and how you pictured them as Remus every time. The longer you thought about it, you realized that you pictured him as the love interest in every book you read.

You could hear them rustling around upstairs in Harry’s bedroom. You imagined how Remus looked playing along with them. How the sleeves of his sweater were pushed up. The way his eyes would crinkle as he laughed along with the boys. How soft his voice would get comforting them if they got hurt.

It got quiet for a moment, and you almost stood up to go check on them. Suddenly, there were three sets of footsteps running down the stairs. You quickly laid down and shut your eyes, trying to hold back a smile.

The ‘knights’ rushed in and kneeled at your side. Remus stayed back, standing in the doorway. His chest rose and fell in a soft sigh as he studied your ‘sleeping’ figure. He took advantage of the situation and allowed his eyes to linger. He noticed the corners of your mouth twitch and he felt his stomach do a flip.

Neville put his hand to your forehead to ‘check your pulse’, to which you could hear Remus softly blow air out of his nose. He moved from the doorway to kneel beside them whispering, “If only we had read a book that told us what to do to wake her up.”

“A kiss!” Neville exclaimed, earning a harsh shush from Harry. Neville giggled and whispered the same words again. Remus ruffled his hair and nodded down at the boy.

“That’s a good idea, Sir Neville. Try it and see if it works.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the soft voice Remus used with the boys. You always admired how the marauders played with Harry, but there was something extra special about the way Remus did it. He was so gentle and encouraging with them.

Neville began to lean in to kiss your cheek but was stopped by Harry’s small hand on his lips. He shot Neville a look that reminded Remus so much of the one Lily gave James when he says something stupid.

“True loves' kiss, Sir Neville! Remember?” he asked, the last word spoken through gritted teeth as if he was conveying something secret. Neville's face changed to one of understanding, before scooting over and making room. Harry turned to his beloved uncle Moony,

Remus’ eyes widened and his cheeks flushed immediately. His first thought was how much he wanted to, but his second was how much he couldn’t kiss you right now. Not while he’s playing pretend. This scenario had played out in his head over a thousand times and none of them involved children.

Remus shook his head and went to stand up, but Harry grabbed his hand. “But you’re the prince! You have to save the princess!”

You opened one eye and could visibly see how nervous poor Remus was. Since he had the boys’ attention, you took the opportunity to reach for his hand. He startled at the touch, then relaxed when your eyes met. You nodded at him softly as if to tell him it’s okay, just play along.

And you had meant that he could just pretend to kiss you. You figured he didn’t want to and was uncomfortable at the thought. That was not how Remus understood it. Remus took your actions as an okay to kiss you.

He blushed and squeezed between the two boys who were watching in anticipation. He leaned down so that his face was hovering over yours, and you felt his hair fall against your cheek.

Before you could start acting, you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. Your eyes snapped open as the younger boys both cheered. Remus pulled back suddenly and looked down at you horrified. Had you not wanted him to kiss you? You brought your hand up to touch the place his lips just had.

Before Remus could see your face break out into a smile, he abruptly stood. “Tell Y/n goodnight,” he stated, turning away from you and waiting. Both boys kissed your cheeks and followed Remus up to Harry’s room.

—————————————————————

Remus entered the kitchen to see you sitting on the counter drinking out of a mug. You offered him one, but she shook his head. He didn’t want it to throw him off the apology he had just rehearsed over and over.

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” he started, running a stressed hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I thought that was okay. I clearly misinterpreted what you meant and I hope you can forgive me.”

“Mus,” you called softly. He turned to you, making eye contact for the first time since the kiss. “Come here.”

He walked towards you slowly, as if he were a scared animal. The smile you gave him has the crease between his eyebrows relaxing. You motioned for him to come closer. He listened to you and slotted himself between your legs.

You slowly moved your hand to the back of his neck, lightly running your fingers through his hair—something you had wanted to do since you felt it against your cheek earlier. The other hand rested on his broad shoulder. He leaned down and placed his head in the crook of your neck to hide his blush.

“If I didn’t want you to kiss me, I would have stopped the game.”

You felt Remus nod against your neck, his eyelashes tickling your skin. He places his hands on your waist, rubbing his thumbs slowly against the fabric of your sweater. He retracted his head from your neck, choosing instead to lean against your forehead.

“Can I do it again?” he whispered shakily. You could feel his breath against your lips as he looked at you with pleading eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. His hands tightened on your waist as he eagerly crashed his lips against yours. You tugged on his soft strands and he groaned against your lips, pulling you flush against him.

He pulled away with a sigh, keeping his eyes closed and resting his forehead against yours. He started laughing and you were brought back to reality. Your face grew hot and you removed your hands from his hair.

“What?” you pulled back to get a better look at him. He opened his eyes and shook his head, unable to control his laughter.

“Remus, what?” you whined. He brought his hands up to cup your face and kissed you softly again. This kiss was much shorter, but you felt the same amount of butterflies in your stomach.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

+

"They kissed? Blimey, you exceeded my expectations kid," chuckled Sirius, handing Harry the new toy motorbike he had promised him for playing matchmaker.

“8 years. We tried to set them up for 8 years and my son does it in an afternoon.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Safe: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Umbrella - Gibbs gets more than he bargained for when he offers you his umbrella.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

The thing that Gibbs likes most about you is that you don’t give damn about what anybody else thinks. That becomes blatantly obvious over the months he continues works with you. You’re a consummate professional, a fierce victim advocate and the most compassionate woman he’s ever met.

The way you speak to the families, it’s an art form.

He could only wish for more people like you. People who haven’t become desensitised by everything they’ve seen. People who still give a shit.

“I don’t know how you do it.” He says to you one night over drinks at a bar he’s already forgotten the name of. “How do you stay sane after seeing so much death?”

Meeting up like this, it’s starting to become a regular thing between the two of you. You’ve been doing it ever since the day you ran into each other at the cemetery. Most nights he grabs a few drinks with his team but Thursdays, he reserves those especially for you.

“I know that people think I’m cold, detached…” You say as you swirl the ice cubes around whiskey glass. “But when I look down at them, I see the person they were. Lieutenant Colchester’s calloused fingers from where he played guitar, the scar on Ensign Lopez’s knee from a cycling accident. They all had hobbies, a life, people who care about them.” You take a sip from the glass. “I guess that makes me driven.”

“It’s a good way to be.” Gibbs tells you, his gaze meeting yours. “You fight for them, even when the lead on the case tells you, you shouldn’t.”

He’s talking about the blow up they all overheard coming from Family and Sexual Violence and Threat Management Unit this afternoon. You have a dead Corporal on your table and Special Agent in Charge LaRue is shoving the file to the bottom of the pile because the deceased used to be hook to put food on the table before she joined the service.

“I’m gonna be person non-grata in that department for a very long time.” You state as you signal to the bartender for another round. “They’ve already requested another M.E.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Gibbs tells you as if it’s something irrefutable.

That’s one of the reasons you like about spending time with Gibbs. There’s no platitudes, there’s only frankness. He’s a man without an agenda and you can not express just how refreshing that is.  

“I know.” You say, pushing your used glass away from you. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I thought it would bring any of them justice.”

You damn well would too, he knows it.

It’s an hour later that he begins to tug on his jacket. It’s the same everytime. Eleven o’clock hits and he walks you home. Only tonight you aren’t pulling on your coat, your still sitting there, your finger tracing around the top of the glass you’ve been drinking from.

“Maeve?” He questions, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“I think I’m gonna stay a while.” You tell him and he sits back down on his stool.

“Alright, well I’ve got nowhere else to be-”

“Jethro.” You say softly, your hand coming to rest on top of his ensuring you have his full attention. “You know that feeling you get, that frustration that builds and builds until you end up starting a fight. I get that too, only I fuck it out.”

“Oh.” He says as it dawns on him. “I’m cock blocking you.”

“You look like a big strapping Marine, ready to beat the shit out of anyone that approaches me.” You inform him and he supposes he kinda does.

“I’m not sure how comfortable I feel…” He begins because his momma taught him a lot better than to leave a woman alone in a bar.

“It’s not about your comfort.” You remind him, your voice turning brittle. “It’s about me getting what I need and what I need is to get fucked.”

He doesn’t like it, not because of the sex but rather the danger it presents. You’ll be taking home you don’t know, someone who could hurt you or worse. He also knows he can’t stop you, that you’re going to do this no matter what he says because it is a need, one that he recognises all too well.

“Will you call me or page me?” He asks you as he raises to his feet once again. “Just so I know you’re safe.”

You sigh, rapping your fingertips upon the surface on the table. He gets the feeling you aren’t used to people actually giving a shit about you. Well tough, he does and you’re just gonna have to get used to that.

“Maybe.” You concede. “If you leave within the next five minutes.”

Maybe…

That’s the best he’s gonna get for now.

It’s a couple of hours later that his pager chirps. He’s doing push ups in the dark on the bedroom floor, trying to chase away the images of another man touching you, tasting you, fucking you. He’s not a jealous man but he is protective, he would go to hell and back for the people he cares about and apparently you’re one of them. He picks up the tiny black device, his gaze fixating on the letters as they scroll across screen.

S-A-F-E.

Safe.

Love Gibbs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cakepoppresent]

That's a Threat?

Mind you Daisuke has killed men before and here Maclolm ass disrespecting the fuck outta him. It's cool though Daisuke thinks it's cute

Previous - Next

Transcript under the cut~

Daisuke: Malcolm. Do you have a minute?

Malcolm: The old dude dating my sister. What do we have to talk about?

Daisuke: I wanted to formally introduce myself

Malcolm: What the fuck for?

Malcolm: Did it occur to you that maybe I don’t want to meet you? The cradle robber

Daisuke: I’ve been seeing Luna for a year now and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you.

Malcolm: I don’t care. We don’t have anything to talk about

Daisuke: I’m not as old as you think

Malcolm: That sounds like a fucking threat. Are you threatening me old man?

Daisuke: I think it would be in your best interest to speak with me.

Daisuke: I think we could have a more productive conversation in a warmer location. Don’t you agree?

Malcolm: Sounds horrible. I decline

Daisuke: I’ve asked Luna to spend Winterfest and the New Years with me. I wanted to extend the offer to you as well.

Daisuke: Malcolm. I’m not the type of man to ask twice.

Malcolm: Crazy work. Answer is still no

Daisuke: I understand that you are very protective of Luna, and so am I. I would like to use this time to get to know you better and hopefully, you can do the same

Malcolm: Ew. Can I be frank?

Daisuke: Of course

Daisuke: Do you have anything else to add?

Malcolm: I don’t like you. I think you’re shady and hiding something and I don’t think my sister is safe around you. I heard you guys almost broke up over the summer, she should made that permanent

Malcolm: Yeah. I think you’re an old bastard that should leave my sister alone. You weirdo

Daisuke: Let me be frank. I’m a man of means, and getting you to come to Mt. Komorebi won’t be difficult for me, but I wanted to speak to you man-to-man and make my intentions with your sister very clear. I plan on dating with the intention of getting married, which means we are going to be family. Let’s use this time to get to know each other, and let me show you how much your sister means to me.

Malcolm: “A man of means” eh? sounds like another threat.

Daisuke: You mean a lot to your sister and she's worried we won’t get along. I would hate to disappoint her and tell her I couldn’t convince you to come to Mt. Komorebi. You don't want to be the cause of the disappointment, do you?

Malcolm: You fucking suck

Daisuke: Old habits die hard but the sentiment remains the same. I hope you can reconsider

Malcolm: You...*deep breath* Fine...I’ll go

Malcolm: Not because of anything you said, you can keep those sentiments to yourself. I'm doing this only for Luna since she's so set on dating you, I can’t force her to stop. I still think you fucking suck and your threats don’t scare me

Daisuke: Im happy to hear that. You don’t have to worry everything will be taken care of. I promise you

Malcolm: Whatever old man

Daisuke: I’m not that much older than you

Malcolm: I don’t care old man.

Daisuke: It was nice speaking with you

Malcolm: Ew. I’m leaving