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kaysungshine · 4 months ago

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Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

Part II out now!

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)

{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end

{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?

{ WC } - 6.7k

{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!

{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡

It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.

"Finally, what kept you so late?"

You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.

You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.

Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.

"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."

"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.

You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.

Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.

It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.

"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.

"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.

"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.

You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."

"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.

"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.

Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."

"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."

Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."

This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."

Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."

You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."

"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."

You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.

"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.

"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.

"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.

"Deal." You say.

You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.

Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.

He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.

You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.

Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping.

You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.

It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before.

Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.

As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you.

You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.

But of course, despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.

There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.

You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?

Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.

To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."

"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.

"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."

"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.

"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.

Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.

"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"

He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."

He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.

"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.

"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.

"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"

"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.

"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.

Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."

He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."

"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.

"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"

You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.

"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."

He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.

"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"

"Green, my entire head green."

"That would look interesting." You laugh.

You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.

However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.

"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"

"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.

Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter.

You think you could listen to him laugh all day.

You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."

Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.

He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."

The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.

Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level.

"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."

"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.

When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?

You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."

The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?

"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.

You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."

Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.

"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred.

"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.

"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.

"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.

"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.

Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.

"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.

"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.

"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face.

You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.

"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.

You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.

Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."

"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.

The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.

You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.

"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.

"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."

"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.

"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules.

"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"

He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."

"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.

"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.

"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"

Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."

"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.

"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.

"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."

"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.

"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.

Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."

Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?

Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.

"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"

"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."

Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."

Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.

You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.

"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.

"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"

This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.

He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.

"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.

It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"

He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."

He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"

"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.

"What's one of your kinks?"

You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.

"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.

You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.

"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.

"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.

"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.

"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense."

"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.

"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day."

You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.

He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."

"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.

"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."

"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.

"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.

You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.

You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.

But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.

Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.

"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.

Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."

"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."

"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.

When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.

Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.

"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.

Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"

Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.

Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?

"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.

He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."

You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.

You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.

You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.

It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...

He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."

You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.

Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.

You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.

Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.

When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.

"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.

You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.

You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.

Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.

He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.

Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"

His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."

Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."

With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.

Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.

"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me."

And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.

He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.

"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.

Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.

"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.

Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.

Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.

He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."

All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake.

So instead you say, "Okay."

Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away, going back to facing Ji's door.

"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.

You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.

Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.

"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.

And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.

"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.

You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."

"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."

Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.

"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.

You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."

You smack him again, a little harder this time.

"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.

You knew that wasn't all, "And?"

"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."

"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.

"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."

You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."

"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"

With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.

When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.

You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.

You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.

You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.

"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"

You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.

Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.

You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.

You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.

Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡

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literaticat · 19 days ago

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Jennifer, I'm hearing from creators that some publishers either are or will require authors to disclose if they used AI in any way to write their book. Even brainstorming. Is there any truth to this?

I use AI to help me plot out my stories (I'm Horrible at plotting, honestly) and to help me battle writers block. Not to generate my stories!

will people look down on me for this? I'm definitely not going to lie, but some part of me wonders why it's their business if I'm not using AI to generate text. I feel so conflicted.

Well, yes and no?

Short answer: Just don't use AI to write your book. You will probably have to sign a contract that says you didn't use AI to write your book, and you shouldn't anyway, for lots of reasons. However, using AI tools is not the same thing as AI writing your book, so relax.

Long answer:

There are two (main) ways AI might come up in a contract. One is in the Warranties clause** (which I'll explain in the footnote below), and the other is in an AI clause -- not all publishers have them (yet?) but generally the AI clause has some wording like, neither the publisher or author can sell or license or give permission for the text to be "Scraped" by AI technology -- additionally, something like either the publisher or author may use AI tools in the course of normal business, but nothing in the text was generated by AI, the editor will be human, not AI, etc.

You'll notice here that both the author AND the publisher are held to the same standard -- that's important. And you'll also notice that it acknowledges that AI is a tool that MAY be used in the normal course of business. Zoom, google/gmail, adobe photoshop/acrobat, microsoft outlook/office-- all programs that publishers and authors use every day, any of which might have AI things woven into them. Autocorrect? Spellcheck? Grammarly? The thing on my tumblr RIGHT NOW that is highlighting words I should have capitalized in the sentence above? That's all AI technology. Obviously you don't have to "disclose" that you use normal tools of doing business.

If that includes "give me a list of girls names popular in the 1970s" or "what are some accidents that could happen at a skating rink" or "give me an example of plot beats in a mystery" -- OK. I still consider that a TOOL.

As long as you, a human, understand that generative AI technology uses other people's words to "create" -- so for fiction, OK if you want to brainstorm names or beats or whatever as above, as long as you are NOT USING IT TO WRITE THE BOOK -- YOU MUST WRITE THE STORY AND THE WORDS IN THE STORY.

And for nonfiction, AI makes up answers to questions that SOUND good but are actually just lies -- so PLEASE don't use AI technology to do actual research -- do your due diligence, make sure that any research you do online in any capacity (including Google) is factual, has primary sources to back it up, etc, etc. It's not actually a useful shortcut if all the info it gives you is straight up bad.

** In all publisher contracts there's a clause called Warranties and Indemnities. In that clause, you are warranting (swearing) that you have not plagiarized your book, that you personally created and own the rights to the book so you have the ability to sell/license them, that you have full permission for anyone else's work that you have quoted in the book, that nothing in the book breaches the law, yadda yadda.

IF ALL OF THAT IS THE TRUTH, and somebody sues you for plagiarism or copyright infringement or whatever, and you really didn't do it, the publisher will defend you and you won't have a problem. If, in fact, you lied in the Warranties section, then the publisher will not defend you and will cancel the contract and you'll be liable for whatever happens and can twist in the wind as far as they are concerned.

Some publishers are adding / have added / will add something in the Warranties clause where you also attest that the text is not generated by AI. (This is for several reasons aside from the fact that AI generated stories are crapola -- 1. AFAIK, AI generated text cannot be copyrighted, and 2. AI generated text may be plagiarized, soooo you'd be in danger of being in breach of your warranty even if it DIDN'T specifically call out AI!)

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respectthepetty · 2 months ago

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How to credit GIFs

I know there are other posts around this hellsite of how to do this, but because @khaotunq made this amazing post, I wanted to remind some of you of how to include a GIF that credits the original post/creator even if the GIF does not appear in the GIF options.

Option #1:

Step #1 - If you know which GIF you want to use, find the post its from, and click the three little dots to bring up the menu. Click "Copy Link"

Now, in your own post, click the "GIF" button

Step #2 - When the next box appears, paste the link you just copied in it.

Step #3 - The GIF should appear, so click it, and it will insert the GIF with credit to the original post and creator.

HOWEVER, it will only insert the first GIF in the post, so if you want a different GIF in the post, you have to make a small change.

Option #2:

Step #1 - Do everything in Option #1. EVERYTHING! Now, once you have inserted the GIF into your post, it will be the first GIF in the original post as stated in Option #1.

Step #2 - Click the wheel at the top of your post

Step #3 - Once you do that a menu box will appear, and where it says "Text Editor," switch from "Rich text" to "HTML"

Step #4 - It might look scary now, but have no fear! Hit "Ctrl +F" to find what you need! Type "attribution" and it will locate the GIF for you.

Step #5 - After "attribution" is the GIF's link that you copied earlier in quotes. Look for it!

Step #6 - Now, in another window, go back to the original post with all the GIFs and find the GIF you want. Once you see it, right-click on the GIF, and when the menu pops up, select "Copy Image Link"

Step #7 - You will paste that new link into your post in the same spot the other link was within the quotes. In other words, replace the highlighted yellow part with the new link.

Step #8 - Click the little wheel at the top again and select "Rich text" to switch back to your normal viewing mode.

The new GIF will appear!

It seems overwhelming, but once you get the hang of it, it's easy peasy. And if you think this process is too time-consuming, remember that this is nothing compared to how much work GIF makers put into creating these GIFs for us.

Tumblr is actually very user-friendly with some practice, so do our community a favor and be friendly to the people who put in the effort.

#bl things #myspace taught a lot of us how to be tiny little code changers #bl community #be kind and attribute

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blackcatwriter · 2 months ago

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Linger (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

a/n: This is my first actual one shot so I'm super excited to get this out there in our tumblr community! Shout out to my beta reader and editor who prefers to stay anonymous, this post wouldn't exist if it weren't for you.

warnings: angst, slight use of curse words (if you count them), maybe just a tad bit of grammar mistakes, takes place during chap 4 but im taking creative liberties lol, no use of Y/N, use of nicknames

wc: 2.3k (lots of yapping on my end)

summary: After the events of Blackwater, Arthur abandons you. Almost a year passes and you spot him amongst the crowd at the mayor's garden party in St. Denis.

Thanks for reading!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost a year ago, Arthur Morgan had left you behind in the wake of a heist gone wrong in Blackwater. He had promised to meet with you after the robbery, whispering sweet nothings of the life he wished to share with you within hotel room walls. However, nothing had gone according to plan when Arthur left Blackwater on the run with the Van Der Linde gang to escape law enforcement. Broken hearted, you were left behind along with your hopes of a new life as collateral damage.

Now, months later you had started a new life in St. Denis. Your father, who was in poor health and had claimed you were in need of a providing husband, had offered your hand in marriage to that of a wealthy businessman who had been visiting Blackwater from St. Denis.

Too engulfed in your anguish of being abandoned by the seemingly love of your life, you didn’t fight the arranged marriage and left your home in Blackwater for a new life in the progressive bustling city of Saint Denis.

You had buried Arthur in the back of your mind and instead devoted your time to new hobbies and skills, spending most of your days sitting in the comfort of your fiancé's two-story manor. Most chores were handled by the maids and servants, leaving you plenty of time to do nothing - which is why you so heavily valued the parties your wealthy neighbors held.

Tonight, you were wandering around the mayor’s annual garden party while your fiancé stayed behind talking business with his fellow co-workers. It was mostly shallow gossiping between the ladies and meaningless conversations with any other guests. Tonight, you were wearing your newly tailored gown, a deep blue silk dress patterned with black lace trims that perfectly hugged your body to extenuate all the right things. Your hair was tucked into a loosely curled bun with stray strands that came undone from your waltzing around.

You were on your second glass of champagne when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar face standing on the second-floor balcony accompanied by two other men: Arthur Morgan.

He stood to the side of someone who you presumed to be a fellow member of the Van Der Linde gang he used to run with. Frozen with shock, your glass slipped from your hand and hit the ground with a resounding shatter. Startling the people around you, they moved away as you sheepishly mumbled a “sorry” to the poor servant that would be stuck cleaning your mess. When you looked back up to the balcony, Arthur was no longer there. The man who had been by his side stared down at you as if you had wronged him in another life.

You fled the scene, preferring to retreat somewhere quieter in the manor to recover from your embarrassment. With your back to the door, you moved to sit by the windowsill of the room you were in. Quiet footsteps sounded against the door as you sighed. “I’m powdering my nose—" Your words failed you as you took in the sight before you.

The outlaw who broke your heart stood by the door dressed in a suit you were sure he’d never wear again. Closing the door behind him, his eyes never once left yours. “Darlin’,” he grunted, taking in the breathtaking sight that was you. He had traveled across state lines, ran himself out of every saloon in every town he came upon, but he was sure he had never met another view that was as beautiful as you.

“I...I’m not your darling.” You gripped onto the windowsill behind you with white knuckles. Arthur brushed the stray strands that had rebelled against the pomade Hosea made him apply earlier and looked to your feet—either too guilty or too nervous to meet your eyes any longer.

“I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure what to call ya’.” Arthur’s face reddened. He fidgeted with his hands and took a small step toward you. “I was just wonderin’ if you were alright. ‘Heard there was a little accident downstairs, and I was wonderin’ if it was you,” he continued.

It felt as if the walls were closing in on you as he continued talking. When you first came to St. Denis, Arthur had come across your mind more often than you were willing to admit. You’d imagined he would come back to you and beg for you to take him back. You thought you had built a wall tall enough around your heart to not be affected by the sight of him again, but here he was stumbling over his own words, and you felt the same pang in your heart all over again.

“Arthur, what’re you doing here?” You spoke softly after building the courage to ask. You wish you had the anger in you to slap him, tell him off, anything else than to just stand there bewildered by the sight of him. “I wish I could say it’s for you, but I’m not,” Arthur sighed. He may have done all kinds of wrong in his life, but he wasn’t a liar—at least not to those closest to him.

“I’m here with Dutch and a few other of the boys from our gang. We’re scoutin’ out an opportunity for a potential robbery.” He spoke with a tone of shame in his voice. The exact reason he left you in the first place was what lead him back to you.

“Oh, Arthur. When will enough be enough?” You groaned, pinching your eyebrows together. “You're chasing after a dream that won’t happen! Can’t you see that?” Fueled by the frustration you felt simmering in your heart and the tears welling up in your eyes, you continued, “The old world is gone, Arthur. You’re beating a dead horse.”

Arthur shook his head in defiance. “Now I know that, but—”

“But what? The world is changing. If you can’t change with it, then you’re a dead man walking.” You interrupted him and rushed out the room, leaving behind a devastated Arthur.

He tried following after you but stopped when he saw you talking to a man who he presumed to be your fiancé by the way you held onto his arm. The man nodded to you before you kissed his cheek and left to the front door. Arthur discretely tailed you until he watched you enter a carriage.

He shouldn’t follow you. Dutch would disapprove of it; he’d tell Arthur to forget about you. You’re happier now, certainly happier than you would be on the run with him. He should go back to the party and collect information to help the gang, but in that moment, he decided you were more important. You had always been the most important person in his eyes and he was a damn fool to have not risked his neck to come back for you in Blackwater.

Arthur ran out the front gates and whistled for his horse, Boadicea. He jumped on his horse and trailed your carriage from afar. He would’ve certainly been stopped by one of the many outstanding officers of St. Denis on account of suspicious behavior, but most of they were occupied by the party he just left.

He stopped at the end of the street where your carriage came to a stop and observed you as you walked inside your home. You had clearly been upset in your carriage and Arthur carried a heavy guilt knowing he had been the bastard that left you feeling that way. Hitching his horse, he snuck down the sidewalk and into your backyard.

You had changed out of your dress and into a plain nightgown. Dismissing your maids, you were left completely alone in your bedroom. Any other woman would be grateful for all that your fiancé provided, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were confined to a gilded cage. You sat at your vanity and dried your tears.

Arthur Morgan had been your greatest weakness since the moment you met him in a saloon in Blackwater. He had been a drunken fool who managed to chase off every woman that night, except you. Where others found offense in his words you found humor. You took care of him that night and was shocked by him showing his appreciation to you the following morning.

THUD

Shaken from your memories of the past, you yelped at the noise of pebbles hitting the windows of your bedroom.

THUD

Scanning your room, you looked around for anything you might use to defend yourself from this mysterious intruder and grabbed a vase. Lugging it out to your balcony, you looked over the railing and saw it was Arthur who was trying to get your attention. Sighing, you couldn’t help but prefer it was someone else trying to murder you.

“You plan on attacking me with that?” Arthur joked to defuse the tension. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, but messy as if he had gone horseback riding. Groaning, you placed the vase down.

“Did you follow me to my home, Arthur Morgan?” You whisper-shouted at him. If any of your servants saw a strange man trying to talk to you from your balcony, he’d be taken away.

“I wasn’t done with what I had to say to ya’.” He stood firm with his chest out as he looked up to you. “Can I come up...please?” Arthur was scared you’d say no because he knew he’d have no choice but to respect your wishes. Any sane woman should tell him “no” but you weren’t just any woman.

“You got an awful lot of nerve, Arthur,” you angrily spat. He took this as a sign you’d never let him anywhere near you again, until you continued, “If you can climb up the balcony without breaking your neck, we can talk.” You walked back into your room leaving Arthur grinning like a fool on the ground.

He carefully climbed the side of your home, using the vines that grew on your walls as a rope to pull himself up. Hoisting himself over the railing, he removed his coattail and bowtie. “You always make your guests enter the hard way?” He shook the tiredness off his bones and followed after you.

“Just the ones that aren’t welcome.” You retorted, sitting in a chair by your tea set. The evening bordered into nightfall as the air in the city grew colder. “There ain’t nothing left to say, Arthur. You’ve chosen how you want to live what’s left of your life and so I have.” Your face turned stoic as you poured yourself a cup of tea.

“I haven’t forgotten what I promised you...and it ain’t gonna mean much to ya’ cause you’re a city girl now with everything you ever wanted, but...” Arthur trailed off as he tried finding the right words to tell you what was on his mind.

You decided against butting in, even though you very much had things you wanted to tell him, like how he was so very wrong. St. Denis had nothing that you wanted. It was suffocating to be amongst such a high-class society. You missed the days where Arthur and you would run away for the night, choosing to retreat in nature as you confessed your vulnerabilities to him and he the same. Or when words weren’t enough to show your affections so you’d rent out a room at some hotel to show him how much you needed him in other ways.

“I think we’re close to getting out of here. I know I said that back in Blackwater, but I really mean it this time. It’s selfish of me to want to take you from your new life here, but I’ve never been known for being a good man.” He kneeled down in front of where you sat and brought your knuckles to his lips. “What d’ya think of Tahiti?” He grinned.

“I’d be a fool to believe your sweet words, Arthur.” You whispered, looking down at him with sadness. “You can be a good man, Arthur. Deep down inside I do think you have goodness, but you’re always fighting it. You’re always fighting it and you don’t let it win.” You placed a hand on his cheek and caressed his face.

“Darlin’...” He buried his face in your lap as you raked your fingers through his hair. “You’re not gonna say yes, are you?” He turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.

Your silence answered his question. He stood up and grabbed his discarded coat. In truth, you wanted so badly to agree. You wanted to leave with him, but you didn’t trust him enough not to leave you all over again. This time you’d have something to lose. Here you have a fiancé with a legal and stable job. He provided for you. With Arthur, you’d likely spend the rest of your life sleeping on dirt and running from whatever authorities were chasing you.

Arthur walked to the edge of your balcony with a stormy look in his eyes. “If you change your mind, we’re staying at an abandoned home in Lagras. It’s right outside the city, I’ll be waiting at the bridge at noon just in case.” Too scared to watch him disappear all over again, you kept your back to him as he climbed down your balcony and faded into the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan angst #rdr2 x reader #red dead fandom

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 5 months ago

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06/21-22/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Bronson Pinchot; Jes Tom; Damien Gerard; Hugo Pierre Martin; Fiber Arts Brigade; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week!; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; OFMPride Colouring Pages; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika

== Taika Waititi ==

You've probably heard, but it's been announced that Taika is in talks to direct Percival Everett's Novel film adaptation 'James'!

Source: Inforo_media Instagram

More interviews with Taika at the Peabody!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Peabody Awards (@peabodyawards)

instagram

Source: PeabodyAward's Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba's new movie, Advanced Chemistry will be airing for the first time in LA on June 26th! Tickets available Dances With Films Website.

Source: Samba Schutte's Instagram

== Bronson Pinchot ==

Did you know Bronson was going to be in the new Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F movie? I didn't!

Source: Bronson Pinchot's Twitter

== Jes Tom ==

"Pride50 award ceremony held at the Edison Ballroom Monday evening in NYC" - Jes was a Queerty Honoree!

Source: Queerty's Instagram

== Damien Gerard ==

Damien is such a kind dude, he keeps sharing kitten pictures <3

Source: Damien Gerard's Instagram

== Hugo Pierre Martin ==

Our dear Hugo Pierre Martin has a new audio series on Spotify! He asked for some help from the pirate crew to checkout the new audio series and he'd share some anecdotes from the set of OFMD! There were lots -- so I tried to make a screenshot of all together-- (not sure where #3 is?- couldn't find it on the thread). Wanna give a listen? Check out The Diaries of Netovicius the Vampire - Podcast!

Source: HugoPMartin Twitter

== Fiber Arts Brigade ==

Our lovely friends over at the Fiber Arts Brigade have another Cameo, this time from the sweet Dominic Burgess! Check out the video below!

You can help support Sage USA on their direct donation link: https://give.sageusa.org/campaign/592202/donate

youtube

They'd like to remind you, you can also enter your @sageusa donation in @adoptourcrew's raffle! You can also support SAGE by checking out the Fiber Arts Auction: https://tinyurl.com/FABforSAGE

Source: Fiber Arts Brigade Twitter

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Reminder ==

TealOranges & Garlic Soup Week Starts Tomorrow! Need a reminder of hashtags and more info? Visit their Tumblr post!

Source: Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More cast cards from our dear friend @melvisik! The first cast card is William Meny, one of the writers aka executive story editor! The next is Edward Fletcher! "The cuckolded spouse of Eugenia. He was one of the officers in Titanic (I think the one who hears about the iceberg from the lookouts) so had to include that."

Source: Melvisik's Twitter

== OFMPride Colouring Pages ==

More colouring pages from the absolute legend @patchworkpiratebear!

Source: Adopt Our Crews Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! I realise this is really late.. I took last night off because I needed a break. I highly recommend it, it's amazing what a good nights reset can do for you. Tonight I wanted to just say a few little things... You all really are an inspiration. I keep reading more meta... more fics, and so many of you are putting up more art-- there's another prompt week starting tomorrow, I'm seeing multiple collaborations... I've been reading so many lovely letters, and seeing so many fun new gifs, and so many artists/writers being part of these wonderful donation drives. Some of you are making sweet comments, and encouraging others to create-- you are all just absolutely amazing.

You're just so damn creative and so kind, and so brilliant, and I'm really really humbled to be apart of this lovely community with you. Please know that you are so very wonderful and so very loved crew. Hope you get some rest this weekend <3

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's theme, well, I don't have one. Instead, just enjoy. Gifs courtesy of our good friends @meluli and @ofmd-ann!

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ichorai · 1 year ago

Text

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part three (m).

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 14.4k

themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, suggestive, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, talks of sexual misconduct (cruises incidents), mentions of death, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, a lot of business talk, roman’s implied demisexuality, kendall is Losing it this chappie, fucked up family dynamics, imaginary dead cats & real dead sisters <3

a/n ; tumblr is being a bitch and not letting me turn off beta editor so :) what was originally going to be one massive chapter of s3 is now going to be broken down in shorter pieces!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“Logan Roy was personally and fully aware of the crimes committed aboard Brightstar Cruises,” said the news reporter. “Kendall Roy says his father paid millions of dollars to hide and cover up criminal activity at the cruise line.”

You shut the tablet off, pinching the space between your brows as you drew out a deep exhale.

“This is fucking insane,” Roman muttered under his breath as he scrolled through Twitter, under his brother’s trending hashtag. “He’s gone off the rocks.”

Leaning forward, you asked the twins, “You guys don’t think he’s telling the truth, right?”

Rome shot you a quizzical glance. “Kendall doesn’t know how to tell the truth. It’s against his biological nature.” After a moment, he let out a high-pitched, “But…”

“What?” asked Shiv.

“I may not be team Kenny here, but, uh… Dad isn’t exactly unsqueezable right now,” he said. His eyes met yours. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if Kendall just fucked us over. Again. I mean, obviously I didn’t want him to be the scapegoat for cruises but this is—this is just something else entirely.” Then you nudged Shiv. “What about you?”

The woman screwed her lips into a purse. “I’m thinking we just need to back Dad right now. But… what am I actually thinking?” She lowered her voice to a whisper you could only barely hear. “I’m thinking, ‘Is he toast?’”

Her brows pulled together, wondering if she should’ve divulged that information to either of you.

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “I think there might be a chance that he could be burnt.”

The three of you stood in silence. Roman closed the stupid bird app before he could see another edit of his brother to a Lana Del Rey song, and slid his phone into his pocket.

It was then that Hugo and Gerri strode up, expressions grim. A Kendall-shaped bomb was dropped on them, and they were all scrambling to get things together whilst Logan stared angrily out of a window.

“Hi. Listen, I’m drowning in calls,” said Hugo. “I just want to deny, you know, any kind of speculation. So, uh, I’m just checking—we’re all good if I say, for a starter, that he never hurt anyone and he never touched anyone personally?”

Roman scowled, as if it was a ludicrous question to even take into consideration, and Gerri answered on everybody’s behalf. “You can reassure on that, Hugo.”

A second later, Logan’s voice rang out from across the room. “Did you know?” he asked. “Connor? Roman? Shiv? Did you know?”

Apprehensive, the siblings crept closer to their father, who still had his back turned to them. You crossed your arms and listened on from behind Roman.

“Did you know he was going to do that?” he queried once they were all close by. “I was wondering.”

“Obviously not, dad,” Rome said.

A muscle in Logan’s jaw twitched. “Uh-huh.”

Roman scratched at the back of his head. “Kendall’s mentally ill. He’s insane.” He needs help, he wanted to say, but wisely bit down on his tongue before it could slip.

There was a long moment of silence. Shiv eyes darted from her father to her husband.

Finally, Logan turned to face his children. “Everyone. Gather up! Battle stations—let’s go.”

The small group rounded around a table with Logan at the very head. It was Gerri who started with a proposal, all heads turned to listen to her.

“I suggest I call the DOJ, and we right away let them know how horrified we were to learn of these allegations. We can tell them we intend to form a special committee and we can inform them which white shoe law firms we are considering to thoroughly investigate and promptly report back their findings,” said the woman.

Shiv watched her godmother with mild unease. She was a woman to look up to, she was competition, she was better than anyone else here, and she was an accomplice. Then, her eyes darted to you, your fingers silently drumming along the table’s surface. There was no doubt Logan would be forced to announce his successor soon. Would you be competition for the throne, as well? You’d certainly make for a formidable CEO.

“Do we cooperate?” asked Logan.

There was a brief moment of puzzled silence.

Gerri’s brows furrowed as she replied, “With the government? Uh, yeah. I think we’re gonna have to cooperate. I mean, we were under pressure already—”

“Unless we don’t,” Roman cut in.

“That’s ridiculous. Not cooperating would be like shining the fucking spotlight right onto us. This is a public company—we tanked privatization in Turkey,” you vehemently protested.

To that, Gerri agreed. “We don’t know what they have or what they might get. There’s only one real play here.”

“What if I don’t want to pull down my panties so fast?” grumbled Logan.

“Then we pull up the draw-bridge. The story would be that he’s exploiting these poor women—and that’s very sad. Twitter would tear him apart. You were grooming him for the top and, wow, would you look at that? He relapsed, and he blew it,” Roman said. Both you and Shiv exchanged worried, distasteful glances. “He’s a bitter fuck-up that needs to be psychiatrically evaluated. Of course, you’re the big baddie, so everybody jumped on board.”

Brows cinching, Shiv asked, “What about these papers he says he has?”

“Uh… fake. Or stolen, if they even exist. Are we even worried about these papers? We’ll go after him for corporate theft, then,” he spouted off. “This is—you know—not a nice thing to say about your son, but maybe chop him up into a million pieces and throw him into the Hudson?

You destroy Kendall, it falls apart.”

It was strange to think, just twenty-four hours ago, the two brothers were quite amicable with each other. As brotherly as people like them could be, at least. Now they were on opposite sides of the chessboard, waiting for the play.

Frank and Karl started listing off a couple stats, and Shiv sat forward in her seat.

“Kendall’s changed the game,” she said. “Noncooperation now, it wouldn’t—it’s just too hot out there. I think it’s very high risk.”

“Everything’s high risk if you’re a pussy,” Roman said, picking at his nails.

You frowned. “If we don’t cooperate, it’ll just make us look all the more guilty.”

And what if we are? The brief thought crossed your mind. What if everything Kendall said was true?

“If I stop picking at scabs and saying sorry, who knows where we’ll end up. Admissions of wrongdoing—that’s billions out the door,” Logan said.

His words made your expression falter just a little bit.

“Get the raisin,” your godfather told Hugo, referring to the American president. “Let’s go to the top.”

The planes heading back to New York were readied soon after. Just as you stepped out of the car that took you to the tarmac, your phone began to buzz in your pocket. To your relief, Roman was busy chattering to Gerri, and you were able to step away from the group to pull your phone out.

Kendall’s contact name stared right back up at you. You sucked at your teeth in thought, before swiftly answering.

“Hello?”

He sang your name then, in a pitch too high for his caliber.

“What do you want?”

“What do I want?” he parroted. “I want you in, Y/N. You’ve got a premium spot right by my side, in the new company I’m going to build. You’re the glue, dude. You are.”

A shifty glance back at Roman and Shiv, Logan and Gerri. You took a few steps closer to the plane.

“Is it true?”

“What?”

“What you said on TV. That Logan knew about cruises and paid it off.”

A brief pause.

“Obviously,” he said. “Obviously it’s true. I’d never lie to you, Y/N. You’re like—you’re like a sister to me, you know?”

“Have you called Shiv? Offered her a place, too? Roman?”

A longer silence.

“No,” he finally said.

It was a lie, you knew it clear as day. But you didn’t know exactly which part of it was a lie.

“I can’t trust you,” you murmured into the phone, shifting the device in your palms. Roman’s eyes were now on you. He waved, and you waved back, shooting him a thumbs up when he gestured to the plane. “You understand that, right? I can’t trust you, as much as I want to.”

Before he could respond, you abruptly hung up, and quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket to jog to the rest of the group.

“Who were you talking to?” Roman asked once you caught up with him, mildly suspicious.

“Karolina,” you quickly lied. “She wanted to know what the play was.”

“Mmh. Right.” He nudged his shoulder into yours. “We’ll be okay.”

“I’m not so sure.”

Roman’s eyes searched yours, but you averted them when his dad approached the group. His sunglasses were perched high on the bridge of his nose—you could see your worried reflection in them. He asked for a lawyer: a good one, preferably a woman.

Lisa came to mind, one of the most reputable lawyers in the country, conveniently a friend of Shiv’s.

“Shiv, Roman, Gerri, Y/N—you’ll all go back to manage New York,” said your godfather. “No need for me to go running back like a slapped girl. Looks weak.”

Pursing your lips, you offered him a nod. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Good,” he said, patting your cheek affectionately. Once, then twice, then his hand fell back down to his side. He used to do that when you were a young child, sporting pigtails and scraped knees. “Good.”

Then, he ruffled Roman’s hair. “Fuck off down there, Tumbledown Dick.”

And with that, the two of you, along with Shiv and Gerri, boarded the plane.

“As I step back temporarily…” began Logan, surveying Karl, Frank, Hugo, and Tom in front of him, “who do we like as CEO?”

They stared at him blankly.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Logan huffed in exasperation. “It’s name plates. Come on! Brain dump. Speak, and let a hundred flowers bloom.”

Unsurprisingly, Frank and Karl didn’t hesitate to offer themselves up first. Tom watched the older men apprehensively. The two were quick to be pushed to the side, and Logan snapped his fingers.

“Who else?”

“I mean, I imagine you’re looking at a kid. Or Gerri,” said Frank.

“Yeah. Yes. I’d like a kid, obviously. So—Shiv or Roman. But we’d love a woman. So, Shiv or Gerri. But I’d like experience. Which would be Roman or Gerri.”

Leaning forward in his seat, Hugo cleared his throat. “Well, there’s one obvious person who’s got all three of those. Y/N, she’s young, she’s a woman, and she’s experienced. A perfect candidate.”

Silence stretched thin between the men. Logan tilted his head in thought. Tom quietly excused himself to run to the bathroom.

On the plane heading to New York, Shiv’s phone began to ring, and she excused herself to the back where neither you, Roman, or Gerri could hear her. Gerri pushed her glasses further up her nose as she studied a text message on her phone. Silent, she gestured to the two of you to take a look.

A message from Frank. They were picking a new CEO, right then and there.

When Shiv came back quiet as a mouse, Roman started up a bitchy catfight with his sister for not sharing with the group.

“How come Frank called you and how come you told them?” Shiv asked her godmother.

Gerri shrugged. “I’m just a very straightforward person, Shiv.”

“What’d you hear?”

She glanced at her phone once more. “Just that there’s a number of names in contention.”

“All of us, probably,” you said with a mild grimace.

Roman slung his arm over your shoulders, jostling you ever so slightly. “Care to make it interesting? Throw a bit of money on the table?”

“I’m already pretty fuckin’ interested,” Shiv replied, nose wrinkling. “I think I’m good.” With that, she turned to her side to look out the window.

Drawing in a shallow breath, you loosely intertwined your hand with Roman’s. “You think you’d be ready to take on the mantle if you got the job?” you quietly asked him.

“Fuck, yeah. It should be me, right? I’m the most logical option.”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering how much of what he’d just said was utter bullshit.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Roman tapped your nose twice and you fixed him with an exasperated look. “Like you don’t agree with me. But you do, right?”

“I don’t know, Ro. I don’t think what Kendall pulled means you should suddenly be crowned king,” you muttered. “I don’t think any of us should.”

When you eventually passed out beside Roman, your legs thrown over his, he waved a hand in front of your face, just making sure you were actually asleep. As gently as he could, Roman slid away from your legs to get up and set them back down on his seat. He bent at the waist to kiss your forehead and you murmured something in your sleep, but thankfully didn’t stir anymore than that.

He made a bee-line for the plane’s bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Then, he called his father.

“Oh, Romulus,” Logan’s voice buzzed through once he answered after the second ring.

“Hiya, Dad. Can I just—can I speak to you for a moment? You free?”

“Sure.”

Roman leaned his weight against the sink. “Well, um, it’s already getting out what you’re thinking about so… I just wanted to throw a couple things in the ol’ lobster pot.”

“Mhm.”

Squinting at his warped reflection, Roman said, “I think it should be me. It’s my time. I can do it, I want it, and I think I can pull it off.”

A long silence.

Roman scratched at the back of his head, a bout of nerves suddenly scratching within his chest. “Uhm, yeah, I think it should be me. But… if you don’t think I’m ready, which, uh, totally valid, I would completely understand, and I’m not saying I’d agree with that, but, you know—maybe it could be Y/N. She’s… she’s a good, fresh face for the company. She’s good at this shit. All the corporate managing shit. And if—if she doesn’t work, Gerri is a prime contender, too. A couple years under her, then maybe… maybe it could be me.” He cleared his throat and drummed his fingers along the faucet. “And, listen, I know you’ve been sweet on Shiv. I love her like a brother, seriously, but I just don’t think that it’s time for her, you know? For whatever reason it ain’t Romey time, then, uh… maybe it’s crony time.”

He winced.

“Mmhm,” was all Logan said.

“I hope I haven’t, uh, overstepped here.”

On the other end of the line, Logan smiled. “Nope. Thank you, son.”

“Okay. Alright. I’d love it, but, uh, you know, I’d understand if—I do want it, though. No hard feelings if, uh…” He was rambling. Logan never liked it when he did that. One time when he was thirteen, Logan gripped his cheeks so tightly that it ached and snarled out a warning that if he heard another uhm come out of him, he’d toss him to the fucking wolves. Good times. “Yeah. Love you, Dad. Bye.”

“Uh-uh,” Logan said, and hung up first. He locked eyes with Frank. “Roman’s out.”

When the plane landed, Shiv got a call from Logan.

“What?” asked Roman. “What’d he say?”

“He wants me to go get Lisa to be his lawyer,” she said. “He told me to tell you guys to wait airport adjacent, though. He might need someone to fly to Boston for investors.”

You frowned. “Fuck. I thought I’d be able to go home for a bit.”

Shiv arched a brow. “You’re more than welcome to. But, you know, Dad wouldn’t like that very much.”

That kept the rest of your complaints quiet.

Once the four of you disembarked the plane, Shiv took a car to head after Lisa, and the three of you were taken to a fancy hotel nearby.

Gerri got her own room right beside yours, and she told you to shoot her a message if anything of importance came up. You gave her a half-hearted smile and a nod. You were rooting for her, really.

Roman took a step in the direction of your room despite having his own across the hall, shooting Gerri a smirk and a salute before she could make her way in. “If you hear the bed rocking through the walls, that’s us having wild, passionate sex. Feel free to drop in if you want.”

Rolling her eyes, Gerri shut the door in Roman’s face.

The hotel was large and spacious, and you were quick to shed your outer layers, sinking onto the bed with a groan.

“I miss home,” you said when Roman kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie. “I’ve been held hostage in a different country and then stuck on a fucking yacht with the most dysfunctional family for way too long. I wanna go home.”

He laid down beside you. He couldn’t really understand how you were feeling. His house was mostly empty and lacked any true life. It didn’t actually feel like his home.

“Yeah, I’m fucking exhausted.” he said nonetheless. Then he tugged you closer and pressed his nose against the side of your head. “But I’m not too tired, if you catch my drift.”

“I’m not having sex with you in a random hotel with Gerri next door,” you deadpanned, though there was a slight laugh to your voice.

Roman snapped his fingers. “Would you prefer to have her here, watching? You little sicko.”

Finally, you laughed, and shoved him away. “I’m tired, Ro. I’m gonna go take a shower and knock out.”

“Hm. Can I join?”

“You tell me,” you said, knowing that Roman wasn’t ready for that just yet.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds. Roman shrugged. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

You kissed his cheek quickly, before pushing off of the bed.

A steamy shower later, you stepped out of the bathroom in the comfier clothes you made sure to pack. Roman sidled past you to wash himself up next, but not without pinching your side on the way. He shut the door and locked it before you could retaliate.

You waited until you heard the spray of the shower start up.

Only then did you grab your phone, dialing Logan’s number. You hoped he was still awake.

To your relief, he picked up after the third ring.

“Hi, Uncle Logan.”

“Hello, dear. You and Romulus are doing well in the hotel, I hope?”

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah! Yes, he’s just in the shower right now. So, I just wanted to clarify some things.”

“Go on.”

It felt as if there was a heavy weight on your chest. “I just… I know that you’re in the middle of picking a new CEO, and I know I probably look like a pretty good option to get the company out of hot water right now. But…” You exhaled softly. “I love you, Uncle Logan, but I don’t love this company. And I—I just don’t want to be the face of it.”

You drew your knees up to your abdomen and wrapped an arm around them.

“Mhm,” Logan said.

“I hope that doesn’t, uh, hinder your perception of me in any way, but… yeah. I don’t want it. I’m perfectly happy with the job I have now. And—if you ask me, I think Gerri is the best person for this role.”

“Hm. Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your honesty.”

Well… that was certainly a better response than you anticipated. You half-expected him to get angry and cuss you out.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. Did you do the right thing?

“Bye, Uncle Logan.”

“Sleep well.”

With that, the call ended.

Five minutes later, you got a text message from Gerri. Two words, and that was it.

It’s me, it said.

Another one pinged through a minute later.

Shiv blew it with Lisa.

Your brows raised. Roman was certainly going to have a field day once you told him.

You shot her a reply.

Congrats, Gerri. I’m glad it’s you.

The next day, Shiv was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t answering her phone, and she’d turned off her location. Logan was beyond furious, yelling through the phone at both you and Roman to keep a watchful eye on Gerri and to try and find Shiv. Once the call ended, the two of you gave each other meaningful glances. There was only one place Shiv would go after she felt slighted.

She’d gone to confront Kendall. Maybe to scope out what he was doing for Logan. Or maybe just for herself. You didn’t quite know her motif just yet.

“So… we’re going to Kendall?” Roman asked you.

“That’s where she’d be,” you replied. “But let’s not… tell your dad yet.”

“Sounds good with me,” he snorted. “He’d have a fucking heart attack.”

Before the two of you got into the car, Roman mumbled something about not wanting to turn up empty-handed, and bought a box of a dozen fresh cinnamon rolls from the airport.

The drive there was quiet and tense. Roman began anxiously drumming his fingers on the car seat, then moved to doing it on your thigh and you didn’t bother stopping him. You pulled out your phone and shot Shiv a text, though you were nearly certain she wasn’t going to answer.

Everyone’s looking for you. I hope you know what you’re doing.

Once you got to Kendall’s base—which was just his ex-wife Rava’s house, because he had nowhere else to set up—Jess was the one to greet the two of you on the lower levels.

“Kendall’s a bit busy at the moment, but he’s told me to just send the two of you up.”

“Thanks, Jess,” you told her, not unkindly. Sometimes you felt bad for the woman. She was bright and intelligent and a hard-worker, and it was clear that she had so much potential. It was a shame she was glued to Kendall’s side.

An elevator ride later, the two of you stepped into Rava’s living room. And, to none of your surprise, Shiv was right there on one of the clean grey couches.

“Oh, wow. Lookie, lookie. Alright, okay,” deadpanned Roman. “How come you’re not answering your phone?”

Shiv lifted one of her shoulders nonchalantly. “I’ve had it off. No agenda.”

“Right. No agenda.”

“How is he?” she asked.

“Fine. Worried about you,” you said. You took a seat on the couch across from her and Roman took to wandering around, touching just about every single piece of decoration he came across.

The red-head narrowed her eyes at you. “So, uh, how are you feeling about Gerri as CEO?”

“Great. I think she was the best choice.”

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t want it for yourself?”

“No.” There was no hesitation to your answer.

“Right.” Shiv laughed as if she didn’t believe you. “Of course you didn’t.”

Roman’s lips twitched as he leaned against the backrest of the couch, leering over his sister. “What’s your fucking game? What are you even doing here?”

“Why? What are you guys doing here?” she shot back.

“Here looking for you,” said Rome.

“Sure.”

Rolling his eyes, Roman haughtily said, “As far as you know, that’s the fucking truth.”

Before anyone could say anything else, there were echoing footsteps down the hall, and Kendall appeared, a silly smile plastered across his face.

“Here he comes,” said Roman. “The attention whore.”

“Hey, Rome. Y/N.” He stood in front of his brother, glancing back and forth between you and him. “How are you guys doing?”

Tilting his head, Roman replied, “Great. Thanks for asking. It’s just been a really—great few days. You know, being a hostage held at gunpoint, and then my brother decided to fuck the family company over on a whim. It’s been great. How about you?”

“I’ve been good!” said Kendall, propping his hands up on his hips. “Certain amount of regret, but you know—pretty cleansed.”

It took all you had in you not to heave out a grand sigh. “Cleansed,” you mumbled. “You could’ve just gone on a spa retreat for that. Didn’t have to pull all this shit. I think a clay mask would do you good.”

Kendall shot you a mildly amused look. “I needed to do this. And yeah—I still meant every word of what I said to you.”

You frowned. He was clearly alluding to the phone call where he was offering you a spot with him. “Right. Oh, and, uh—Ro brought you those cinnamon rolls from the airport.”

“That’s so sweet. That’s kind. Thanks, Rome,” said Kendall, glancing at the blue little box on the table.

“Shut up. Just eat ‘em or don’t,” Roman said, standing behind the couch and patting your shoulders. You reached over and rubbed his hand.

Finally, Kendall rubbed his palms together and addressed all three of you. “Look, guys, can we start on a clean slate? You didn’t like how I handled things with Dad. Sure. Whatever, I’m sorry. But that’s for me and him. Here’s the thing… he’s over, so let’s work together to take the company over and help him move on out.”

Roman wrinkled his nose. “Uhm… well, I’m just here to spy on Shiv, so—”

“And I’m just here to get you to back down,” Shiv told her older brother.

The four of you fell silent when a group of Kendall’s busy worker-bees crowded into the living room, holding stacks of files and papers and binders.

Shiv blew out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to tell you how much of an asshole you are, but can we do it somewhere we don’t have to fold in Rava’s dog-walker?”

“Yeah. Sorry, yeah. Follow me. Uh—we can go into her room. Sophie’s room.”

Roman helped you up off the couch and snorted, “I’m surprised he remembered his kid’s name. Uh, which one was she? Right! Sophie. Or was it Sophia?”

The two of you snickered under your breath, and filed into the room behind Kendall and Shiv.

“Don’t touch any of her shit,” said the oldest out of the four.

Of course, Roman reached out and brushed his hand along all the little toys and trinkets lining her desk and drawers. You were the last in the room, and you didn’t even get the chance to reach out and shut the door behind you before Kendall was rubbing his hands together.

“Okay. So… uh, it’s pretty simple, really. Let’s gang up on dad and take him down.”

“Well, fuck. At least wait until the door’s closed,” you said, just before kicking it shut. Patting Roman’s shoulder, you took a seat near the foot of Sophie’s bed while Shiv made her way to the very top.

Kendall grinned sheepishly, though you could see the apprehension in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you come to us before?” Shiv asked. “Because look—it’s a real fucking mess now.”

You thought back to the yacht. How Kendall was offered up as the sacrificial lamb, unexpectedly. Of course he’d have no time to confer with any of you.

The grin on his face seemed to taper away. “It came together in my head a bit late. And, you know—I mean, I knew what I was gonna do, but…”

Roman’s brows furrowed. “That was spontaneous?”

“Well, I spoke with a lawyer—”

“Oh, wow! He spoke with a lawyer?” Roman parroted in a mocking tone.

“But they advised against it. I don’t wanna rehash it all but—I was effectively acting alone.”

The words made Roman roll his eyes so far into the back of his head it was a wonder he couldn’t see his brain. “Right. A spontaneous, heartfelt out-pouring of thoroughly lawyered emotion.”

“You guys can think whatever you want, in the end, of me. My offer still stands.” His eyes were on Shiv, then on you.

You drummed your nails against Sophie’s soft blanket. “Kendall… you can’t just expect us to drop everything and trust you blindly. Do you understand how much we’d be risking? You have to give us something to work with here.”

Scoffing, Shiv said, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m here to get him to back down.”

“On Dad’s behalf,” Roman added. Was it a question or a statement?

Kendall nodded twice. “Right. Uh-huh. So if I say that I won’t back down and I’m not interested in negotiating any deals, you’d just call him and tell him to take a hike?”

Before anybody could say anything else, there was a knock at the door, and Jess’ head popped through.

“He’s here,” said Jess.

“What? Who?” asked Roman.

“Con. Yeah, send him in,” Kendall said. The grin was back on his face.

Roman laughed under his breath. “Right. Thought I heard a clown car pulling up.”

“Ideally I’d like to make a media appearance. All of us,” Kendall told the three of you.

Immediately, he was met with noises of protest and sour faces.

“Sweet,” Roman droned. “Are we gonna be wearing costumes that you have designed, asshole?”

“Yeah. That’s not happening,” Shiv chimed.

More hesitantly, you added on, “That sounds like an awful idea, Kendall. No offense.”

The door opened again, and Connor came in with a wide smile. He greeted Kendall with a hug, then swung his gaze to the rest of you.

“Pop’s looking for you guys, you know,” he said. He sat down beside you and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “You okay? You look tired.”

“Could be better, Con. Could be better.” You spared him a half-hearted smile, then shrugged.

Shiv leaned back against the headboard. “We’re here on his behalf.”

Connor laughed, and sent his half-sister an amused glance. “Oh, sure, honey. Me too. All about Dad. That’s why we’re all here.”

Bored, Roman began wandering around the room, glancing and poking around in Sophie’s walk-in closet. He pulled out a frilly pink t-shirt and held it up to his chest. “You think this color suits me?”

“Put that back,” Kendall admonished dismissively, but didn’t bother to take it away from him. Instead, he continued right on with the topic of conversation, taking a seat on an ottoman. “Okay, can we just—can we turn off the devices and get into this? If this shit was just epiphenomenal, maybe it could be ridden out. But these incidents are symptomatic of a foundational sickness within our father and this company.”

Roman snorted. “Hmm, don’t he use that tongue prettier than a twenty-dollar whore?”

Chuckling, Shiv tilted her head. “So what’s your point?”

“My point is… the milk is going sour. You know, the great whites from politics to culture, they’re rolling off the stage. It’s our time.”

“You mean us?” Roman asked, giggling. “The multi-fucking-ethnic transgender alliance of twenty-something year-olds we got here?”

You shot the man an incredulous look. “Kendall, you’re a rich, middle-aged white man. I’m sorry if your image doesn’t exactly scream woke extravaganza.”

He waved the two of you away. “Okay, listen. Big picture, we’re at the end of the long American century. Our company is a declining empire inside of a declining empire. People are killing themselves with guns or dope so fast that we’re losing pace. We’re, uh, we’re fat-fingered fucks and we can only live on cream. US supremacy is waning—”

“Why is that a bad thing?” you cut in, nose wrinkling.

Kendall held his hand out, as if to gesture at you to keep quiet. “What I think is, within that context, we can become omni-national and reposition. Because actually, we’re not tied to anything culturally or physically. So, we’re actually in a great position to leapfrog tech. Information is going to be more precious than water. Combine all our news operations, and become the global news information hub.”

You winced. It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. It reminded you of the Pierce acquisition but just… a hundred times worse. And what the hell does omni-national even mean?

“Amazon is twenty years old, and Gates is an old geezer. Detoxify our brand, and we can go supersonic.”

Silence. Utter silence.

You and Roman stared at each other, as if trying to reassure each other how bullshit everything he was saying sounded.

“What do you say?” Kendall asked. “Are we interested?”

Roman hummed. “Mmh. There’s just something about betraying our father that doesn’t sit well with me.”

“He’s a central player in a rotten cabal that has basically eaten the heart out of American democracy—”

“Rotten Cabal is a good name for a band,” Roman chimed.

“Dad’s not on trial for that, though, Ken,” said Shiv.

Hotly, Kendall defended, “Maybe he should be.”

“If he didn’t do it, it would’ve been someone else making the same dollar off the same shit,” said Roman.

Leaning his weight onto his knees, Kendall turned to look back at his brother. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe we’re all irrelevant. Maybe there’s always going to be death camps and maybe the planet is going to fry, and there’s nothing we can do. Or maybe… maybe people make a difference. I don’t know. Do you think human beings matter, Rome?”

The conflict danced across Roman’s eyes clear as day. It disappeared quickly once he crossed his arms and said, “I’m just gonna say it now—I’m a spy and I’m gonna go back and tell him everything. I’m with Dad, so… fuck you.”

Kendall frowned. “Fine. Fine. I actually don’t give a fuck. I can perfectly well do this alone. I’m actually just trying to be open-hearted and invite you in here. I mean, it’d actually probably be simpler to go alone, but I want to offer you guys a fucking ticket to the escape pod.”

“Nice fucking guy, huh?” Rome chortled.

Finally, the ball dropped. “You’re happy he went over your head and put in Gerri?”

Roman’s expression fell. You knew he’d wanted the job. “I think Gerri is a good choice.” Shiv laughed, and Roman defensively spat out, “What?”

“Defend Dad all you want, but Gerri can look after herself.”

“Yeah, I know that, I’m not defending Gerri, I just—”

Shiv sat up straighter. “You can’t hide under the covers with Mommy.”

Roman shifted back a step. “Oh, fuck off, Siobhan.”

“No, no, let’s talk about it. You always need someone to hold your fucking hand. You use Gerri as protection, and then you run off to Y/N every time something just barely inconveniences you. You just love showing your pee-pee to everyone but someday, you know, you’re actually gonna have to fuck something.”

His nose twitched. “Fuck you. Bitch.” With that, he made his way to the door and stormed out of the room.

You and Connor both called after him, but he was already gone.

“Okay… that was… that was low, Shiv,” said Con, frowning.

“That was an overreaction!” she exclaimed.

Huffing, Connor shook his head. “Can we just try to keep things nice? Yeah?” He patted your shoulder again. “I’ll go check on him.”

“It’s not my fault he’s got a sex thing,” Shiv laughed. “Was I too harsh?”

“You kidding? He loves it. He’s probably out there jerking off, wearing my ex-wife’s panties.”

You buried your face in your hands, pulling exasperatedly. “You guys are fucking assholes. You’re fucking two-faced, Shiv, and Kendall, you’re just… you’re just using us. Fuck. “Media appearance”? Give me a fucking break.”

With that, you stood up from the bed and made your way out of the room. Worry scratched away at your chest for Roman. You stepped into the living room, expecting to see him lingering around there, but you heard Connor’s voice echoing down the hall. He was standing in front of the closed bathroom door, a hand on the gilded doorknob, the other rapping against the wood lightly.

“Rome?” he asked. “You okay?”

“Go away,” his muffled voice replied from the other side.

You stepped forward, right next to Connor. “Hey, Romeo?”

There was a pause. Then the door swung open.

“Hi,” you said, mustering up a tired grin.

“Hi,” he said. Roman tried his best to mirror your smile, but failed miserably.

“You okay, Rome?” Connor asked again.

He shrugged, scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed to piss. Am I not allowed to do that?”

Finally, you ambled another step forward and enveloped Roman into a tight hug. “What Shiv said isn’t true, you know. I’m the one that ran to you this time.”

Roman mumbled something into your shoulder, but you didn’t quite catch it. Maybe it was an off-handed thanks. At least, that’s what you hoped he said.

Connor smiled at the two of you with a huff, clapping a hand on each of your shoulders. “Maybe it’s time to head back. I don’t think we’re done discussing things. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With that, you let go of Roman and nudged him back in the direction of Sophie’s bedroom.

As soon as he made his way back in, Shiv met his gaze with a half-beam, half-grimace etched across her features. “Sorry,” she said. She didn’t really sound all that sorry.

“For what? I went to the bathroom,” Roman dismissively replied. “I don’t give a shit. You whore.”

Shiv smiled, and he grinned back. Haughtily, he snatched up your hand and crowded you into sitting down on the loveseat with him. He swung a leg up to throw over your thighs and you traced aimless circles along his shin.

“Here’s how I see this,” Kendall started up, “Dad is complicated. But he did, or he let, bad stuff happen. Yeah? And now it’s a part of us and our sickness, and we have to take responsibility because we knew. This is our chance to pay our dues and wash our hands for absolution.

You narrowed your eyes. Knew?

Thinking along the same lines as you, Shiv snorted out a derisive sound. “Okay, well… I didn’t know.”

“Sure, whatever, but—yeah, you did,” Kendall said.

“No, obviously we didn’t know,” Shiv exclaimed. “Did you guys know?”

“No,” you were quick to say. “What kind of question is that?”

Roman leaned further back into the seat. “No, we didn’t know.”

Incredulous, Kendall rounded his gaze onto the two of you. “The fucking pipeline of sad dancers who got used and abused and promised some Hollywood bullshit? We all fucking knew.”

Brows cinching together, Roman acquiesced by saying, “Yeah, well, I kinda knew about… you know, that there was some—but I didn’t know about any of the actual fucking… the fucking shit that went down. I really didn’t.”

“Come on, guys,” Connor said. “We knew.”

“Maybe you guys did,” you protested. “But I didn’t fucking know. I was a kid! We were kids!”

“But we still fucking knew! Okay? And I—I don’t like all this fucking bullshit!” Kendall propped his hands on his hips, staring down at his siblings.

“What did we fucking know?” Roman asked.

“Yeah!”

Leaning closer to his sister, Connor said, “Listen, I’m obviously not saying that you guys are responsible. But, come on. The guys, Dad, Mo—the wolf pack.”

“We knew,” Kendall parroted. “All those jokes and the weird vibes to the women and to the grubby fat-asses who took the cruises. The blind eyes and the pay-offs and the hush-hush about Dad’s pals or foreign workers who got crushed like—like meat in a fucking grinder with zero training! And, you know, no, it wasn’t our fault. And if you want to pretend that your shit doesn’t stink, be my guest, but we fucking knew.”

Solemn, Connor nodded. “We knew what those guys in Dad’s study were laughing about.”

Hotly, you said, “How many times do I have to say it? I didn’t know that the dancers were being sexually harassed! That—that fucking workers were being grilled under terrible work conditions! And I sure as hell didn’t know anything about these million-dollar pay-offs you love to parade around without actually showing us.”

Shiv drew in a breath. “We didn’t know what they were laughing about.”

“Don’t get in the pool with Mo?” Connor asked. “Remember that?”

“Well, yeah, that just sounds like fucking common sense,” you replied. “It was all so… grey. There were so many rumors. I just—I didn’t know if what Mo did actually happened or just a part of a huge fucking joke.”

“Yeah. And I didn’t get in the pool with any of those creeps,” said Shiv.

Kendall nodded, “Yeah, because he let those creeps run cruises.”

“No, Kendall, because I was fifteen!” Shiv finally asserted. “Y/N said it before—we were kids! Y/N was barely fourteen! We were hardly ever around them, and when we were, they were talking about shit we didn’t understand, and we didn’t want to understand. Because we were teenagers, and they were creepy old men that constantly told us about how mature we were for our age. Obviously we didn’t know what they were talking about, because we didn’t even want to know.”

Waving his sister’s words away, Kendall stressed, “Well, you know now, right?”

“Of course I fucking know now, that’s why we’re here in the first place!” Shiv yelled.

A beat of silence.

Kendall’s shoulders squared. “This is all a sidebar. Okay? All I’m asking is for us to move forward from a position of truth.”

“Are we excluded from this kingdom of heaven unless we accept the one true truth?” Shiv asked.

His phone dinged with a text message, and Kendall reached down to pull it out of his pocket. His kids were here.

“Look, I just wanna go hug my kids. Okay? I’ll be right back.” He started back out, making his way to the door. “We don’t even need to get into this. This is just sideshit.”

Once he was gone, Roman’s hand rested against the side of your face, gently pulling your head down to rest against his shoulder.

“We were kids,” you mumbled tiredly. Blurry memories of leering, smoking men and jaunty laughter crossed your mind. “How could I have known?”

Roman hummed, but he said nothing more.

“So… where are we at?” Shiv asked. Her question seemed to be directed at anyone in particular, but her eyes were on you.

“I don’t know. I don’t trust him. He clearly doesn’t trust us,” you said, pursing your lips.

Roman nodded. “We’re just hearing him out—then we report. It’s simple, Siobhan.”

“Right. Yeah. We gotta protect Dad… because if we knifed him now, he’d just bleed out, so…”

Roman reared his head back. “Hm. I don’t know about that.”

“Well, it’s just true. It’s a statement of fact.”

“Is it, though?” Roman wrinkled his nose. “It’s not necessarily true. This is Dad. He’s like fucking—fucking Moby Dick. He could take us all down with his back riddled with harpoons.”

Scoffing, Shiv arched a brow. “Yeah? You think he can take on all of us? If we back Ken, he’s toast. I’m not saying we should do it—we just need to decide what the fuck we’re gonna do because this is our moment.”

Finally, Roman’s features softened. He gave you a nudge. “What do you think?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “If all of us back Kendall, that’d spook Karl and Frank onto our side. Gerri, maybe. The board… they’ll be split at first, but I think most of them would be swayed with enough convincing. I don’t know. It’s hard to gauge.”

“It’s very hard to imagine him surviving if we allied,” Connor agreed.

“Yeah. Sure, it’s his board, but it’s a lot of fresh blood. A lot of fear. I think if we pulled a pin today, and tomorrow, we got a spooked board. We could win.”

Tilting your head, you asked her, “I’m confused, do you or do you not want to back Kendall?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On you guys!”

Roman shook his head. “My only concern with stabbing Dad in the back—it might actually kill him.”

You thought back to how scared and worried the two of you were when Logan was in the hospital. Certainly not something you wanted to relive.

It was then that the door opened once again, and Kendall stepped in. “So—where are we?”

“Okay. Let’s say you win, and take Dad out. I don’t see us coming through in the proxy battle. Shareholders don’t like confusion—they’ll pull out the moment they realize the condom ripped. How does the family stay in control?” Shiv asked.

“We give Dad the revolver, show him to the office, proxy battle is over,” Kendall stated matter-of-factly. “Sandy and Stewy will back down. I’ve spoken with them.”

“Busy fucking bee,” Roman snorted.

Bobbing his head, Kendall said, “If Dad went fast enough, we’d have a settlement. Look, guys, I don’t know what I think about Dad. Uh… I love him, I hate him—I’ll outsource it to my therapist. But he was going to send me to jail, you know. He’d do the same to you, Rome. Con. Shiv, I don’t know. Maybe. Don’t you guys see that? Y/N—he’ll… he’ll fucking throw you to the sharks if he needed to. I mean, how many years have you been scurrying around doing all of the yardwork for him?”

You met Kendall’s intense gaze, but you remained silent.

It was Roman who spoke instead: “Well, what would the shape of this new fucking reality be, anyway? Us leapfrogging Amazon?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re looking at 323 BC, naturally. Alexander’s dead. I take Asia, Rome takes Egypt, Shiv takes Europe, Y/N has the Americas, North and South. Con—the rest of the world.”

Connor smiled. “Thanks.”

“Separate divisions. I could oversee us as CEO on paper as we shift to these spheres of influence and evaluate what the core is. We move forward—”

A migraine began to pulse in Roman’s temple and he rubbed his head gingerly. “You’re overseeing us?”

A second of silence. “I’d offer my leadership initially as a—as a necessary part of a transformation process, yes.”

“You’d do that for us?” Roman mocked in a baby-voice. “Oh, you’re so generous! Thanks, Ken!”

“No! In your position, it just doesn’t work,” Shiv protested.

“It’s a stretch,” winced Connor in agreement.

“Stretch?” Roman scoffed. “It’s a fucking scrotum over a timpani drum!”

Shiv straightened her posture. “If I were to back you against Dad, I would need to take over.”

Both you and Rome made noises of surprise.

“What? Woah!” Roman chuckled and you drew in a cold inhale through your teeth.

“Shiv, I’m sorry, there’s absolutely no way you’d be able to steer us out of this mess—” you began.

“What? And you could?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, thinking back to the phone call you had with Logan in the hotel. “But I’m not going to. I don’t want the fucking top job. I’m looking at this from a neutral perspective, okay? You wouldn’t work.”

Kendall nodded vehemently. “You don’t have the experience, Shiv. It wouldn’t be possible. I wish it was, but it isn’t.”

“Come on, you’re a busted flush! I’m the only person who can reform!”

“You’re too divisive,” Kendall said. Shiv’s lips parted in offense. “I mean, I don’t see you this way, but people see you as the token woman, wonk, woke, snowflake. I don’t think that, but the market does.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled, pinching the space between your brows.

“What? That’s bullshit!” she bit out, volume raising a notch.

Snickering beneath his breath, Roman said, “It’s true, I just spoke to the market. That’s exactly what they think.”

“Guys, listen. We’d get new directors, and a clean broom. And then we can figure out how to split the spoils.”

Shiv pursed her lips. “I have some calls to make,” she finally said, getting up from the bed. “But this stays in here, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Roman said.

“Yeah,” both you and Connor mumbled.

With that, she left the room.

Roman slipped away from you, saying something about taking his own call. You watched him go curiously, though you were already pretty certain he was going to call Gerri for her opinion, seeing as she was CEO now. With a nod to Kendall and Connor, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

You strode down the hall and shut the door behind you. The mirror above the sink’s reflection stared back at you, nearly unrecognizable. You looked so tired. Clothes wrinkled, hair disheveled, eyebags dark. All you wanted to do was go home and crawl into your own bed.

You sniffed, though you weren’t crying. You wanted to cry, though. A cry-session sounded really nice right about now. You blinked once, then twice. No tears, still.

Dejected, you went about your business, before rinsing your hands clean and stepping out to the rest of the siblings gathered in the living room now, all standing around a white box of donuts.

“Someone ordered dessert?” you asked with a mild laugh, quirking a brow at Roman.

“Wasn’t me,” he said, jerking his head to Connor, who had a card in his hand.

“Dad sent donuts. Perfectly innocent, safe-to-eat donuts,” the oldest of the group announced. He lifted up the card. “He wants us all to have a nice tea party.”

Shiv glanced around shiftily. “What the fuck? Ken—did you tell him?”

“Shiv, come on,” he replied. “Why would I tell him?”

“To make him distrust us and force us to back you?” you offered, peering over at the donuts. Connor reached over to take out a glazed chocolate one from the center.

“I wouldn’t eat that,” Shiv told his brother.

Incredulous, Connor said, “You really think he’d send poisoned donuts to the house of his grandchildren?”

“Yeah, I’m, like, ninety-eight percent sure those aren’t poisoned,” Roman chimed.

Kendall shook his head. “Okay, guys. These aren’t relevant—”

“Oh, no. No, no, no, these are really relevant donuts,” Roman protested.

Ignoring him, Kendall held up his phone. “Do we wanna? Guys—are we in? I’ll make the call right now. We can say it tonight. It’ll be over. New dawn.”

A terse silence settled over the rest of you.

“Con, stop staring at the fucking donuts, man. Focus!”

With that, the eldest sibling dropped the card on top of the donuts. “I’m out,” he said.

Kendall’s eye seemed to twitch. “Alright, then. You’re irrelevant, anyway.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Go on. Leave. You’re not wanted. You’re not wanted, Connor! Leave!”

“Don’t be fucking mean, Kendall,” you snapped.

Roman shook his head. “Yeah, as if he hasn’t heard that enough already.”

“I just don’t wanna destroy Dad. I’m a national figure. It’s not right to kill one’s father.”

“Yeah, you’re a prick!”

You shot Connor an apologetic glance, but he simply shook his head, gathered his jacket, and took his leave.

Kendall then rounded on his younger brother. “Roman. Come on, man. Let’s do this.”

“Uhm… pass.”

“Pass? Why?”

Roman pulled a sour face, as if he’d just licked a lemon. “A number of reasons, really.”

“Like what? You think I can’t win? Dude—we can win this together. We’ll fucking win! There’s enough for us all, Rome.”

“I told you. I’m with Dad. I always have been.”

Shaking his head, Kendall spat out, “You’re a fucking moron.”

“Don’t call him that!” You bristled. He sounded just like his father.

Kendall looked to his sister. “Forget them, Shiv.”

“I’m with Dad,” she said, plainly. Roman laughed, and Kendall’s expression fell.

“Why?” he asked.

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “Why? I don’t need to tell you.”

“Yes, you fucking do! Is it the goddamn donuts? Have you been spooked by fucking donuts? That’s pathetic, Shiv! Why? You owe me an explanation!”

Shiv tossed her head back and laughed at the irony. “Oh, yeah! Because you’ve always been so careful to keep me informed.”

“What is it? You don’t believe me?” he asked. “Obviously, you believe me! So you’re literally doing the wrong thing over the right thing here?”

Her eyes were intense on her brother. Exhaling lowly, Shiv said, “I can see that you’re angry, but don’t project your disappointment onto me. I should go.”

“Is it cowardice or avarice? I just wanna know,” Kendall called out. “Is it because you won’t take over? Is that it? Good luck with sleeping on that, Shiv.”

“Fuck you, plastic Jesus.”

“You’re a fucking twat.”

“I was the one you wanted. Rome and Connor don’t even matter to you,” she said.

“Yeah, because you’re the fucking token girl! Girls count double now, didn’t you know?”

“No, I know.” There was a crack in her voice. “I fucking know.”

“It’s only your teats that give you any value! You’re calling it wrong, Shiv. You’re fucking over the victims. I hope you know that! Well done, you dipshit!”

She shot you and Roman narrowed glances, before sauntering out of Rava’s apartment.

Finally, Kendall turned to you. His last hope. He stepped closer to you, until he was just in front of you. “Y/N, just listen. You—we could make this work. You’d be the fucking—the fucking glue. The brains. You’re good at this. You know people, you have connections. It could work. You don’t need them.”

“I don’t trust you,” you whispered.

And there it was. There were the tears. Stinging the corner of your eyes and just barely blurring your vision. Only this time, you didn’t want to cry. Not in front of Kendall.

Kendall took your hands loosely, and you couldn’t find it in you to pull away just yet. Roman watched on with part caution, part disgust.

“Remember—remember when we were kids and I told you that I would be leading the company one day? That you could be there with me? Remember that? And you made me swear to give you all the fucking strawberry popsicles you wanted. You could have it all, Y/N. It’s so fucking close.”

You remembered. Of course you did. “I don’t know, Kendall. I don’t remember.” Swallowing, you pulled your hands away from his. “You’ll just use me, Kendall. You’ll just use me and then toss me to the side.”

“That’s what Dad is doing to you right now. I’m not like him. I won’t do that.”

Your expression hardened and you wiped away the tears. “I can’t back you.”

For a moment, you wondered if Kendall was going to scream.

“Fine,” he said, eerily quiet. “You’re an asshole. Both of you.”

Roman took your hand and began to tug you to the elevator.

“You’re all pricks. Fucking idiots. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing!”

He kept calling you and his siblings a variety of colorful insults, but they all blurred into white noise when Roman hurried you into the elevator, his arm wound around your waist.

“Home?” you asked. You were so, very tired.

He nodded. “Home.”

“Will you stay over?”

He kissed your head, chaste and barely there. “Yeah. Sure.”

The company’s annual shareholding meeting started early in the morning. It’d been a few weeks since the eventful night at Rava’s place, and you’d been swamped with work ever since then. Shiv had been promoted to President of Domestic Operations—which was just a fancy title that meant little to nothing—and shortly after, the FBI had raided the company building.

Yeah. All sunshine and rainbows at Waystar right about now.

A vote would completely be slanted away from the Roys, and that only left them with the option of negotiation with Stewy and Sandi.

“We’re gonna lose the company,” said Shiv, hands propped on her hips. “We’re going to lose the fucking company today.”

The rest of you were sitting around on the couches, waiting for Logan to arrive. He was late, as he often was nowadays.

Roman tugged at the lapels of your dark blue pantsuit, wrangling your attention back to him. He offered you a wry smile. “Say, if I lose my job here, do you think I could find work behind a cash register at Target?”

“Haven’t you heard? All those jobs are being taken up by broke college students with at least two bachelor's degrees under their belt,” you dryly replied. He barked out something akin to a laugh. Since he was straightening out your suit for you, you reached out to fix his loosely-knotted tie. Once you were done, you patted his cheek fondly and pulled your hands away.

It was then that Logan came ambling through the entrance, clutching a dark cane in one hand and Kerry right behind him.

“There he is. The big beast,” Roman said. “Ready to kick ass with his ass-kicking boot.”

“You heard?” Shiv queried him, without bothering to even say hello. “You know where we’re at?”

Logan stared at his daughter for a good few seconds. “Uh-huh,” he finally said, stoutly. Then, he looked to senior management. “Karl? Gerri?”

The man shrugged. “Uh… I guess we have to delay the vote. Squeeze Sandy and Stewy’s airtime. Run the long versions of the speeches. ”

Gerri spoke up, “I emailed a list of assigned shareholders for last minute persuasion.”

“Good, good. Yes,” Logan said. He sounded winded.

Brows furrowing, Shiv incredulously asked, “That’s it? There’s nothing else we can do?” There was an anxious lilt to her voice.

“What about the Raisin?” Logan asked. The president.

Shiv, Tom, and Cyd scrambled to answer for him, and he barked out a few more orders, before taking a seat.

Gerri’s phone began to ring, and her eyes widened when she checked the caller ID. “It’s Stewy Hosseini,” she said. “Should I take it?”

Wordless, Logan nodded once.

The call was short, but brief. Gerri’s eyes were narrowed and calculating when she hung up.

“They want to meet up,” she announced. “They have thoughts.”

Head tilting, Roman asked, “Thoughts? What kind of thoughts?”

“Ideas for a deal space around a settlement,” Gerri told the group.

“Fucking A! That’s great!” exclaimed Roman, before he was cut off by his father.

“Why have they suddenly decided to settle?” he asked, voice low.

Shiv replied, “Well, because they know it’s the smartest move?”

“Or they’ve had bad news,” Logan said. “What do they know that we don’t?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “Well—we’d find out when we speak to them.”

Logan shook his head. “No. I’m not doing a tap dance. Shiv, Karl, Gerri, Y/N, Romulus—go and report back.”

Lifting a hand, Frank offered, “I think that’s smart. Yeah. But, uhm, Gerri should be out front helming, so should I go?”

“We nail you to the cross, Frank, alright?” Logan dismissed. “Let Sandy do the soft shoe. He’s wriggling. Let’s screw them out.”

The hotel you were meeting them at was lavish and over-the-top—you expected nothing less from Sandy and Stewy.

Inside the elevator up, Roman queried, “Does Sandy really have syphilis? What if he has sores all over his body? What if his groin’s all eaten away and the top half of him just falls off?”

“That’s disgusting, Rome,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

He stuck his tongue out at you. “You’re disgusting, fuck-face,” he shot back, childishly.

Gerri hummed. “I think we started that syphilis rumor.”

Raising a brow, you exchanged a look with Roman, neither of you all that surprised. Gerri was a cutthroat, cold-stoned bitch (in Roman’s words), and she’s definitely done worse than starting up a few nasty rumors.

“Late stage symptom is dementia, I believe,” said Karl, tucking his phone away into his back pocket.

Roman laughed. “You been doing some late night, panicky googling, Karl?”

With that, the elevator doors slid open, and the group filed out down the hall. A hotel employee showed you into one of the larger suites, where Sandy, Sandi, and Stewy were situated amongst plush seats.

“Hey,” Sandi greeted with a cautious smile. “Thanks for coming. My father is very excited to see you all.”

You glanced at her father, who was slumped over on a wheelchair and silent. It seemed his condition had worsened much more than you expected. You took a seat beside Gerri, and Shiv stiffly eased down next to you. Roman lingered behind, far too restless to sit.

“Look,” said Stewy, pulling your attention away from the older man to him, “after careful consideration, if we can make a deal here, we’re willing to agree to a standstill. No takeover. Provided we lead on deal-making options moving forward, we’ll accede to a continuation of combined Chairman and CEO roles, so that’d be all yours.”

“I think that sounds reasonable,” said Gerri.

“And the three board seats?” Stewy asked. His eyes darted from the siblings, to you, to Gerri and Karl.

Nodding, Shiv said, “Including yours? We can do that right now—I have my dad’s authorization to go there.”

“Would you be willing to sign off on this?” you asked. Stewy’s gaze met yours, mildly amused. “We’d like something physical to hold onto.”

Sandi then leaned forward when her father began to mumble under his breath, too quiet for you to decipher from where you were sitting.

“He wants our costs covered,” Sandi finally said. That was reasonable. Then, she added, “And… veto right over any Roy family member ever taking over as CEO.”

Your brows furrowed. Gerri seemed just as taken aback by this condition as you were.

“Stewy?” she asked, hoping he’d give some sort of clarification.

“That’s what the man said,” Stewy replied languidly. “It’s a very important protection for us.”

Wincing, Roman scratched at the back of his head. “I feel like I just have to put it out there and say it, since there’s a eighty-five billion dollar baby on the table here… how do I know he’s not your… meat puppet?”

The term made you think of Kendall before he’d waged war on his own father.

Sandi smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I just do what my dad tells me, like you guys.”

“You mind if we take a beat?” Gerri asked, standing up. You stood with her, following her to the next room. Stewy said something snarky, but you consciously chose not to listen.

Karl ducked his head and whispered, “Well, I mean, other than the new proposal, it’s a very, very attractive prospect.”

Shiv frowned and incredulously bit out, “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing to discuss. It fucks us and it’s designed to humiliate dad!”

“It’s all just optics,” Gerri defended. “I’m not sure it’d even stand up.”

“You could probably work around it if it ever came to it!” Karl piped in.

“Uhm, with all due respect, Gerri—get bent,” said Roman.

Shaking her head, she reasoned, “I know it’s humiliating, and I’m sure your dad would agree, but given where we’re at, I have to check in with him. Sorry, excuse me.”

With that, she stepped away to call Logan.

“Is she gonna fuck us?” Shiv asked.

Roman pulled a face. “No. I don’t know.”

“Logan’s not going to say yes,” you murmured. “He wouldn’t allow it. It’s pride over everything, no?”

Shiv shot you a sharp look, but she didn’t say anything. From farther away, Gerri hung up the phone and made her way back to Stewy.

“We will meet your costs, but… no veto,” she told them. Of course—Logan wouldn’t refuse to be the first to bend the knee.

Sandy began murmuring again, and Sandi leaned in to listen.

“We need the veto,” she said once she backed away.

“Is there no alternative shape here?” Gerri queried, shaking her head.

Growing frustrated, Shiv said, “Come on, Sandi. We all want this to work.”

With one final lean-in, Sandi nodded her head at her father’s mumbled words.

“We’re gonna go have a think. But, uhm… it’d be a shame if all this hard work is destroyed over a small detail,” she finally concluded. “Thanks for coming to see us.”

You blew out a breath and scratched at the back of your head—a habit that you seemed to pick up from Roman.

The two of you began walking out, and Gerri caught up, just a step behind. “Sorry, about back there—”

“About what? Trying to fuck me over to consolidate your position?”

“No. It just seemed to make sense. Business-wise.”

Roman shot her a glance over his shoulder. “Throwing me overboard to drown? You picked your prince, Gerri, don’t fuck it up now.” He began to walk faster, and you gave her an apologetic shrug.

“We got this in the bag, Gerri. Don’t—don’t worry about Roman.”

She patted your shoulder with a reassured smile. “I can count on you to keep him in line, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

With one final nod, you jogged ahead to catch up with Roman, linking your arm with his.

“Hey, stompy,” you greeted, bumping your hip into his. “Stop pouting. Gerri was just trying to broker a deal. It’s not her fault they suddenly wanted a veto right.”

“I know. I’m just fucking—worried that I’m making the wrong choices all the time.”

“Yeah. But you’re doing okay. We’ll be fine. Everything’s going to blow over in a few months, just watch.”

The corner of Roman’s lips tilted into a lopsided smile, and hummed out that hyena-laugh of his. “You are so fucking fake. Y’know what the fucking Gen-Z’ers are calling it now? Toxic positivity. That’s what you are. A barrel of toxic, radioactive, neon-yellow smiley emojis. I love it. Never change.”

He kissed your cheek then, sounding out an obnoxious ‘mwah!’ before tugging you into the elevator.

By the time you rejoined Logan, Karolina, and Tom (hell, even Greg was there), Gerri’s phone began to ring again.

“It’s Sandi.”

“Which one?” Connor asked.

“The one that can talk,” Gerri deadpanned. She gave Logan a confirming glance, before answering it. Her expression rippled with incredulity and apprehension. “Uh… are you sure about that? Alright, but—seriously?”

With one final sigh, she hung up the call.

“They have one more proviso,” she told the group. “They want to take away the private jets.”

“What? No!” Roman protested.

“They said it’s elitist and out of touch.”

A frown crossed his face. “Duh-doy, but—no. They’re just trying to humiliate him.” He gestured to his father, who was slumped in a chair, eyes staring aimlessly at the ground.

“Was it real or were they just basting the turkey?” asked Karl.

“I don’t think Sandy’s the kind to be pulling a prank on us, Karl,” you said, pinching the space between your brows. “It’s gotta be real.”

Gesturing emphatically, Shiv said, “Let’s just eat it, Dad. You can tell them to fuck off later.”

“Yeah, we can just offer to cut personal use, or put on a mileage cap,” offered Karl.

“No!” Roman protested once more. “We give them this—first they come for the PJs and we say nothing, then they come for the outsized compensation payments, you know? This is—no. This is bullshit. They’ll back down, they won’t blow it over this. Right?”

He looked at you, and you lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. They’re fishing for something here, but we still have to take them seriously.”

“Dad?” Roman asked.

The older man was silent for a long time.

“Hm.” He paused, glancing around. His eyes were glazed over. “I need to piss.”

“Oh,” said Shiv, uncertain. “Do you… do you need some help, or should I reach out and call—?”

Logan ignored her, and pointed at Tom. “You.” He loosely gestured at the rest of you. “Stay.”

“You want to make a decision now, before you go? Dad?” Shiv called out after him, but he was already walking away.

“Is he—is he okay?” you whispered into Roman’s ear. “He doesn’t look too good.”

Roman pulled a sour face. “He’s fine. He looks fine. Why, you think something’s wrong with him?”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just acting so weird. This is—this is a big fucking deal and he’s been shrugging it off like it’s chopped liver.” At Roman’s worried look, you gripped his arm and squeezed comfortingly. “I mean, I don’t know, though. Maybe he’s okay.”

Nearly fifteen minutes later, you were about to eat your own words.

Logan was most certainly not okay. When he came back, he was out of breath, and his eyes were unfocused.

“What’s it gonna be, Logan?” Gerri asked. “We need an answer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What do you think? Yes or no?”

A staggered exhale and a wild look around. “Fuck ‘em,” he finally spat out.

Shock spilled over the group. Shiv made noises of protest.

“Fuck ‘em!” he repeated, gruffer this time.

“I—are you sure, Dad? That’s… you sure you wanna do this?” Shiv asked.

His breathing was getting heavier and heavier. It was clear to you that business was the last thing Logan should be thinking about right now. You stepped forward, concern splayed over your features.

“Uncle Logan, are you okay?” you asked, under your breath. He didn’t give you an answer, but you took his arm to slowly lead him to a seat. It didn’t go past your notice that he was sweltering hot and trembling quite a bit—you could feel the heat and the quaking through the fabric of his suit.

Despite the fact that he was in no state of mind to be negotiating, Gerri and Shiv pushed him. “Do you know something, or…? That’s a big call you’re making.”

“Pills!” Logan hissed to Colin, who came forward immediately.

“I just gave you some, sir. You need something else? Tylenol?”

Logan nodded, mumbling incoherently beneath his breath.

The rest of the group discussed what the next steps were, and a part of you wanted to join and offer your input, but you stayed by Logan’s side.

When Colin returned with the Tylenol, you furrowed your brows and told him, “He’s, uhm, he’s really hot. Like—feels like he’s burning up. Can we—do we need to go get him a medic, or…?”

“I’m fine,” he said, waving away your words. But then he smiled at you, and that was the most surprising thing of all. “Thank you, dear.”

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”

“What’s going on with the Raisin?” he asked.

Gerri, overhearing, stepped closer with cinched brows. “I’m sorry, with—with the President?”

“Can we get Ravenhead on air?” Logan queried. “Call Michelle-Anne. Tell her to get the SEC to shut this meeting down.”

It was clear that Logan was spouting out utter nonsense, and you exchanged several confused looks with the rest of the group.

“Okay… we’ll look into that,” said Karl.

“I need a piss,” Logan announced once more. Hadn’t he gone just a few minutes ago? “Where is he?”

Tom pointed at himself. “Who, me? Again? Yeah? Sure—okay.”

Greg, who had just returned from sending off a note to Frank on stage, came bounding back to the group, sweat and hair slightly disheveled. “You guys going off to the bathroom?” he asked Logan and Tom.

Logan stared at his grand-nephew incredulously. “What fucking business is it of yours?”

You and Roman glanced at each other. “Jesus. You were right. He’s off his rocker,” Roman whispered.

A few minutes later, Logan staggered back with Tom helping him, and Shiv came forward to ask if he was alright. To everybody’s surprise, Logan called his daughter Marcia, and then started rambling on about a speech he was meant to give.

Tom came up to the rest of the group. “Hey, uh, hey everybody—Logan’s not really himself right now.”

Shiv rushed back after phoning Kerry. “He’s got a fucking UTI.”

“That explains it,” you said, glancing back at Logan, still murmuring something to a nodding Colin.

“Well, is that—I mean, no, it isn’t. It’s not that fucking serious, is it?” Roman asked. He was worried, you could see it clear as day.

“At his age? That can make you crazy!” said Connor. “Reagan had one and nearly nuked Belgium.”

“What?” Shiv asked, incredulous. “How long has he been like this? What the fuck?”

Brows furrowing, Gerri chimed in, “Was he like this when he risked the whole company?”

“Nobody hears about this,” Shiv warned, voice steely. “What do we do?”

“Get a doctor,” you said, as if it were obvious.

“Can’t we just get him some cranberry juice and ask him about the deal again?” Roman asked.

Tom shook his head. “He was just asking for Caroline.”

“Oh,” said Roman, mock-pouting. “Aw. He misses mom.”

“He’s gone mad,” Shiv blew out.

“Well, we don’t actually know when he got this way. We don’t!” Roman said.

“No, no, I think he’s been piss-mad for quite some time,” Tom interjected, glancing back at Logan. “Shiv, do you think—should you overrule him? Go back to Sandy and Stewy and say we’ve changed our minds?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “Logan’ll be furious.”

“How can he be furious when he can’t even tell me apart from his wife?” Shiv shot back.

Haughtily, you told her, “I’m saying when he’s gotten through it, he’ll be angry that you went over his back—!”

Before you could finish, Hugo came running up. “Guys—he insists that he still has to give his speech.” He hurried off when Logan called his name. Or, a garbled version of it.

“Can he give his speech?” Karolina asked.

“What? The demented fucking piss-mad King of England?” Roman responded with a scoff.

“He could say anything up there. No fucking way,” Shiv asserted. “I say we drop it. Right?”

“But at the very least, he should be onstage,” persisted Gerri.

Karl nodded along. “It would be great to get the body up there.”

“Right. Like a human fucking spectacle,” you said, cocking your head. “You don’t think people would find it weird that he’s up there and not saying anything?”

“Okay, we’ll just push it as late as we can, and maybe if we can just get him on stage, that’d be enough?” Shiv proposed.

Connor laughed. “Oh, yeah, maybe send him up through a trapdoor surrounded by dry ice.”

“Where is this doctor, anyway?” Gerri asked.

With no time for anyone to reply, Hugo hustled back to the group, expression twisted with uncertainty. “Uhm… he’s concerned there is a dead cat under his chair.”

Everybody blinked, clueless.

“Great,” said Shiv. “That’s great.”

“Well, is there anything under his chair?” Gerri whispered, ducking her head to check herself.

You stared at your godfather from afar, watching as he vehemently gestured down below his seat.

“He says that, uh, he doesn’t want Rose to see it,” said Hugo. “And he wants Colin to take it out.”

Rose. The name sounded familiar, something you’ve surely heard in passing, but you couldn’t quite place who she was.

Clearly, Roman was beginning to grow more and more agitated, and he gritted out, “Fine. Have Colin take it out. Jesus Christ.”

Finally, Kerry arrived, hurrying to grab her bag, mumbling something about doctors and pills and secrecy. As if to make it even worse, Kendall appeared out of nowhere, and Shiv let out a long and loud string of curses.

“Great—hey, who invited you?” Roman sneered at his older brother.

Kendall ignored him. “What the fuck is going on? He’s squashing the fucking deal?”

“It’s fine! It’s fucking fine—we got it under control,” Roman vehemently pressed, though it didn’t sound too convincing with Logan in the back yelling for the cat to be carried away. The cat that didn’t, in fact, exist.

“You have to turn this around right now!” Kendall yelled.

“We’re figuring it out,” Shiv told him.

Logan screeched again and grumbled incoherently, shifting on his chair.

“What—what the fuck is going on with him?” asked Kendall.

“The doctor’s coming, Ken,” you tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“No, no, I want to know what’s wrong with him!”

Colin hurried away with an empty box—supposedly holding the dead cat. A part of you wondered if this dead cat was a distant memory from Logan’s past. Maybe he was trapped in a fragment of time he could never quite move on from.

“What is that?” Kendall took a few steps to follow after Colin, but halted to look back at his siblings in utter confusion. “Guys, what—?”

“Can you just leave, please?” Roman hissed. “That is an imaginary cat, now can you please fuck off?”

Raising his voice, Kendall addressed the entire group, voice stricken and strained, “Listen to me very carefully. This is you throwing it away. You think they’re bluffing? They’re not fucking bluffing! And you’re putting everything I have fought and bled for on the fucking edge and I am not gonna let that happen! Do you understand me?”

“You’re not welcome here,” Shiv said, cold. “You have no right to be here.”

“Fucking fix it!” he yelled. Kendall sounded like his father.

“You may go! You’re excused!” Roman told him. “Thank you very much for your concern, please go.”

You and Connor stayed silent, watching the other three scream at each other.

“Go! You’re fucking delusional!” shouted Roman. “There’s a fucking delusional man leaving here!”

Kendall began to walk away, but not without screaming back, “Figure out a fucking doctor or I’m calling mine!”

“Thank you so much for your concern, like you give a flying shit!” Roman spat back. “You probably slipped him something, Putin! You piece of shit! Fuck off!”

It was a game of tug-of-war, and both sides were backing into a cliff’s edge.

Roman was taking out his frustrations and his fear onto his brother, and you stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest.

“Hey, Rome, that’s enough. He’s—he’s leaving, okay? Bye, Kendall.” You brushed a stray strand of his hair away from his forehead. “It’s fine. You need to… you need to take a beat.”

Roman pulled a pained expression, his features crumpling under the weight of stress. He nodded several times, before crossing his arms and walking off to get himself a swig of water.

When the doctor finally arrived, you pointed him towards Logan, quickly explaining what he’s been like for the past half an hour. He nodded and got to work, pulling out a few medical instruments to check up on Logan.

“So—how is he?” Shiv asked the doctor.

“I’ll put him on some fluids to hydrate him—it should be pretty quick.”

“Will he definitely be okay?” Roman asked

The doctor didn’t have the chance to reply when Shiv cut in, “But how quick, exactly?”

“Well… he’s not a cup of instant noodles.”

“Sure, but can we speed it up? Like a—a blood bag or an adrenaline shot?”

Roman scowled. “Geez, take it easy. You wanna give him a fucking Tabasco suppository?”

“Fuck you! It’s what he’d want,” Shiv defensively replied.

“Fuck you, too. The main thing is that we look after him, okay?” Roman slung an arm over your waist and you leaned into him with a sigh.

“Obviously, I agree.”

“Oh, do you, though? Sounded like you want to jumpstart our father like he’s a fucking pick-up truck!” Roman uneasily glanced at Logan, who’d fallen asleep on the chair. “Shit. Can you guys call us when he’s less… scary?”

With that, Roman dragged you away from the group. You could still feel Shiv’s angry eyes burning into your back.

“Where are we going?”

“Bathroom.”

“And do you want me to aim your penis for you?” you asked, laughing slightly. “Why are you making me come with you?”

Roman shot you a loose grin. “I could come up with twenty different sex jokes with what you just said. But I’m not going to, because I’m a gentleman.”

“He says, as he shoves me into the men’s bathroom,” you scoffed, before striding in and locking the door behind you. “I hope you’re not looking for a quickie here. I don’t think it’s very sanitary.”

Laughing nervously, Roman’s grip on your hand left so it could curl over your hip, tugging you close.

“You don’t want a little distraction? Just give me five minutes,” he mumbled. His head dipped forward to kiss the junction between your neck and your shoulder.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” you whispered, so low that Roman only barely heard it.

In truth, he didn’t know, either.

“Besides, I don’t think we’d have the time, anyway. The floor is fucking lava out there,” you murmured. “Also, I wouldn’t want our first time together to be in a bathroom at a shareholder’s meeting.”

Roman smiled, almost shy, almost disbelieving. “First time? Wow. Is this your way of telling me you want to have sex with me?”

“As if you wouldn’t throw yourself on your knees begging for it,” you bit back, wrinkling your nose affectionately. Then, you cupped his face and kissed the side of his nose, leaving a faint mark of lip tint against his skin. You smiled at that. “You’re cute, Romeo. But I know you. If you wanted to have sex, you’d be dry-humping me against the sink as soon as we stepped foot in here. What is it you actually want to talk about?”

Roman blew out a heavy sigh. His hands fell away from you as he hoisted himself up onto the sink and leaned against the pristine mirror. “I wanted to come clean to you. No secrets right? During the plane ride back to New York, I called Dad. I told him I wanted the top job, but I also told him that… that you and Gerri would be my second choices if he didn’t think I was ready. I just—I wanted to know if you maybe gave him a call, too?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I did.” You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “I told him that I didn’t want it.”

“Oh.”

“And I told him that Gerri would be my choice.”

Roman’s eyes met yours. They twitched with incredulity. “And you didn’t—you didn’t mention me anywhere in there?”

“I didn’t.”

“Wow. Great fucking friend you are.”

“Rome—”

“You chose the croney over me?”

Your features hardened. “Rome. Fuck, I just… I told him I didn’t want it because I didn’t want to be marked as the token figure that roped the company out of hot water. And I don’t want that for you, either. Don’t you get it? Not to mention it’d ruin your relationship with your siblings.”

“So you just—you don’t think it’d ever be me?” Something in his voice broke.

“It could be,” you admitted. “But I don’t want it to. Not now, at least.”

There was a longer silence. Roman pulled at his face tiredly.

You opened your mouth again, but he waved you away. “I know, I know, you didn’t offer me up because you love me and you’re trying to protect me. Thanks, fuck-face.”

He hopped off from the sink, cradling the back of your head so he could give you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“You still up for that quickie?” you tried to joke, nudging him with a half-hearted smile.

“Sorry, I’m saving myself for Marcia. Nothing like fucking your father’s leftovers, I’d say.”

The two of you laughed and linked arms, unlocking the bathroom door to walk out and make your way back to the group.

It seemed that the two of you came back at the perfect time, because Shiv was worriedly telling everyone, “His moans are getting louder.”

“Okay, but can he do that on stage?” Hugo questioned.

“Is it a wheel-on and wave situation?”

“Fuck, no. We’re not gonna make the piss-mad bear dance with fucking cattle prods!” Roman angrily put out. “We need to be looking after him.”

Shiv propped her hands up on her hips. “So he’s not gonna do his speech? Is that it, though? Do we just—does that mean we go down? We’d fucking give up?” She hurriedly turned and asked one of the analysts what the stats on the vote were. “God, okay. I think we should just go back to Sandy and Stewy and try to save the deal.”

“No, no. You can’t. Dad said no deal,” Roman reminded her.

“Dad didn’t say shit, Rome!”

“He said no deal! Are you fucking deaf?”

“No, he didn’t! His urethra had wrestled control over his brain! I could at least talk to them, right? If we go to the vote, we’d probably… we’d lose. Karl? Frank? Tom?”

They all babbled incoherently—mostly in agreement.

“Y/N?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah. I think you should try.”

“Rome? You back this?”

Roman pinched the space between his brows. Sucking in a deep breath, he said, “Go on, yeah. Go fuck it up, you moron.”

With that, Shiv rushed away, pulling out her phone to give them a call.

Before the shareholder meeting ended, the President called and the group had Roman answer, since Logan was currently… unavailable. He was extremely upset with Logan and said that he wouldn’t be running for another term, which was a major blowback for the company, since he was the stilt to Waystar’s political survival.

It was safe to say that things were going to shit.

Then Shiv called to say that she’d finessed four seats out of the board, which was a good fucking deal, so—maybe things weren’t all that shit.

Roman wasn’t happy with going against Logan’s wishes, but he frustratedly nodded. “We’re good. We’re all good. Hold the voting.”

Everyone cheered and sighed in relief.

When Logan came to, Gerri filled him in with all the details. He didn’t like what Shiv did, not at all, despite her defensive arguments that she’d saved the company. He yelled at her then, and everyone was quiet for a moment.

But Logan smiled at you, and patted Roman’s shoulder minutes later. He was fine, right? Things were fine.

Things were going to be okay.

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stellaimuse · 9 months ago

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♡May this beautiful conductor get a promo? ♡

DIVS by @ essthereal , replycons by @ cannibette ♡

Hello! ~♡ my name is Stella, Angel or Roland! I am a new editor looking for super cool people!!

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Sometimes Angel will refer to herself in third person or using her name (most commonly angel). Angel can not pick up tones easily and would appreciate it if you use tone tags when talking to Angel!

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Basic DNI criteria, an heavy NSFW account, it makes Angel uncomfortable, nothing against you! Xoxo, dislike neo pronouns/genders, Angel will block you if you make her uncomfortable! Sorry >.<

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Rentry graphics, rentry Temps, layouts(twitter, tumblr, discord, retrospring), icons, PSDs, NPTs, wallpapers(be specific with what type etc), if it's not on here ask if I can do it!(I won't bite I swear)

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leahseclipse · 1 year ago

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Dar+ling (Emily Prentiss x f!reader)

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Warnings: Nothing but an alarming amount of cuteness 🤭

Prompt: Person A finally confesses their feelings for B, who has wanted to do just the same for weeks

Summary: Emily finally gets the courage to confess their feelings to the reader, who has just wanted to do it too for a while.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Doing this cute fic for @foxy-eva 's writing challenge 🥳🥳 congratulations for the 2k followers, I wish you lots of success for the future!!! (Btw this hasn't been beta'd lmao I literally wrote all of this on the Tumblr editor.......... 🫣)

It had always been absolutely no secret to everyone that Emily and I have always been quite close for the past few years, always hanging out after work, chatting for hours and hours in the break room, sitting a bit too long on each other's desks, and the list goes on and on.

We've never gone much farther than that. Not because we didn't want to, just because we didn't really talk about everything, the feelings matter, if we like each other as friends or not... It just never came up. I guess we didn't really think about it.

I've never dared to cross the line, I don't want things to end up awkward because I like her and she doesn't. But, what if she likes me too? For all I know, she could do, I don't see why not.

But, I've never asked her.

I really want to, though. The words are standing on the tip of my tongue whenever it's just the two of us, they're waiting to be said but... I don't let them out. I keep telling myself that I'll do it next time, but 'next time' ends up being delayed and on and on.

I just wish I could confess to her. Then I'd probably feel much better and everything would be fine. I really wish I could do it already. It's been weeks since I've been wanting to tell her.

I always stare at Emily's desk whether she's there or not, I just love to memorize every trait of her face, all the time. I can still imagine her sitting there even though she hasn't arrived to work yet.

I always look forward for the sound of the elevator, each morning. It might be my favorite sound after the sound of her voice. Elevator sounds being my favorite is a bit weird, but I like it because after that her arrival always follows.

And just when I turn my head, the elevator tings, and Emily is there. Her eyes meet mine and I wave at her quicky before standing up to walk up to her.

"Well someone's happy to see me today." Emily says as she opens her arms to hug me. We always sway from left to right, it's our thing.

"As always." I respond as we pull apart from each other and automatically start to walk towards our respective desks, even though she never sits at her chair first. She always goes for my desk, and I sit on my chair and look up at her in all of her beauty.

Even though we've seen each other yesterday, it's like we haven't talked in years. We chat for at least 30 minutes before realizing it's been that long.

I notice that she's been acting slightly different though, as if something has been on her mind. I wonder what happened, if I should ask about it or not while we talk.

I look around and notice that others have started to arrive. We greet them and slightly chat with them, and I start to think that it would be probably better if we moved somewhere else more private to talk.

"Hey, uh... Do you wanna go get some coffee in the break room? I haven't had any this morning and I'm starting to crave caffeine." I chuckle, and she smiles. She smiles.

We both walk away from the desk to the thankfully empty room, and I start to open up the cabinet where mugs are kept.

"Here, your mug." I say as I grab it and hand it to her, before I grab my own and close the cabinet.

"I'll pour it for you, here." She says and I set down my mug on the counter as she pours coffee in it.

"That's kind of you, thanks."

"You're welcome." She responds, and our eyes meet, just for a few seconds, then probably a bit more. It's like it's just the two of us, in a bubble, for a moment. Then she starts to chuckle, out of nowhere. It usually happens when we stare into each other's eyes for too long, I guess it's a nervous reaction. I smile to myself as she pours coffee for herself and sets the pot back on the holder.

We just stand there in silence as we drink our coffees, and neither of us seem to mind. Silent moments are precious too sometimes, I like them. Just standing by her is enough for me.

"Hey, uh..." She starts to talk but stops, as if she hesitates.

"Yeah?" I look at her but she has trouble to look at me. She seems nervous. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing bad. It's just... I've... Been thinking about something lately."

"What have you been thinking about?" I ask as we both set our empty mugs on the counter.

"You?"

"Me? What about?" I start to smile, out of nervousness.

"About the fact that I love you." I can see her exhaling a big breath after she tells the words, as if a weight has been lifted off her, and I think that I feel it too.

"You... You love me?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Well, it kinda turns out I do too." I say with a smile and she instantly seems relieved.

"You have no idea how bad I wished you did too."

"And you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this. It's been... Weeks."

"It's been way too long."

"Yeah." I say, before looking behind me to see if anyone else is near, but no one is. I can hear chatting nearby, everyone is probably too busy talking.

"Why did you-" Emily starts to ask, but I cut her off by pressing my lips to hers, just for a few seconds, because someone might come.

"You'll kiss me back tonight. They'll start looking for us any time now." I say after I pull away.

Emily is breathless as she puts her hands on my arms and says, "I might kiss you before, I'm known to be bad at waiting."

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here! ❤️ Don't hesitate to drop a request if you want ☺️)

Here's my masterlist if you want to check out more of my work!

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #ssa emily prentiss #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds emily prentiss #criminal minds fluff #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #cm fic

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wjbs-aus · 5 months ago

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Hey you! Yes, you! Learn how to use GZDoom!

Also if you see this post, please reblog it if you think it's good, like I don't think Tumblr's algorithm (that kinda exists) will like it.

Hi, I'm Lynn "WJB" Beck, and I'm here to tell you about an exciting new old game engine that is extremely easy to use for not just making original games, but also mods and animations and stuff!

And this engine... is GZDoom.

GZDoom is an enhanced sourceport of the 1993 first-person shooter, demon-punching simulator and stress-test for pretty much any technology that contains a computer. As opposed to more low-key and/or "vanilla" sourceports like Chocolate Doom or Boom, GZDoom allows for a lot more options, including Build Engine-style voxels, several types of dynamic lighting, and even stuff that was originally exclusive to specific Doom Engine games, like Strife's light RPG mechanics, This means that it can be used to make extremely impressive "total conversion" mods, and even fully original games with entirely custom stuff!

This guide covers how to get started, and a basic overview of how certain things work (get ready to learn about lumps!).

Getting Started

Ok so before you can start Doing The Thing, you need to... install some software! Don't worry, it's only like 4 and they're fairly lightweight.

Go to this website here and download the most recent version of GZDoom. You will need this to actually run your game.

Go here and get Slade. You will need this to import custom graphics and audio, as well as to use text-lumps (which are basically necessary, even if you're making a basic custom level set, and I will explain why further down).

This ZDoom Forum topic is where you can get Ultimate Doom Builder. While there are other Doom mapping tools, UDB is what I personally use, and it's extremely beginner-friendly while also being fairly versatile. It even has a built-in script editor, so you can modify a script and then immediately jump into testing to see if what you've done has worked!

Finally, you need a copy of specifically Doom 2. You could use Doom 1, but in my opinion Doom 2 is better because it has a lot more stuff than the first game, and - let's be real - you'll probably be doing a lot of vanilla mapping to get to grips with the editor before you can start making your big ambitious game (which is what I'm doing over on my modding sideblog, check it out). I'll leave this one up to you. EDIT: I forgot that Freedoom exists. That's also good.

Mounting stuff into Ultimate Doom Builder

Next, you'll need to get UDB set up. This is fairly easy. First open UDB and, as soon as it starts up, go to the top-menu and click "Tools", then go to Game Configuration. Select "GZDoom: Doom 2 (UDMF)" and click "add resource"; using the attached file-explorer, locate the Doom 2 folder on your computer's file system and add DOOM2.WAD to the list of resources, then do the same with gzdoom.pk3 in the GZDoom folder (making sure to switch the "Add Resource" tab from "From WAD" to "From PK3". Click Ok, and you're done!

If you want to put your custom graphics into the game, you simply create a WAD file in Slade, put your graphics in (more on that later) and save it; then when creating a map in UDB, this box will appear:

If you click "Add resource" here, you can then select your custom wad and use any assets, code etc. in your map!

How Slade works

This bit is a bit more complex because it deals with multiple file formats and methods of importing stuff, but I'll start simply by explaining textures, flats, sprites and patches.

Before I do that though, I need to talk about Markers. To define images as a sprite, patch or flat, you need to put them between a pair of Markers with specific names, which you can create by clicking the "New Entry" button:

"Empty (Marker)" is selected by default, so all you need to do is name it. The naming format is [LETTER]_START to start a section and [LETTER]_END to end one; S_Start/S_End are for sprites, P_Start/P_End are for patches, and F_Start and F_End are for flats. You can, additionally, further subdivide this by making another pair of Markers inside a Start/End pair with a number after the letter, but I'm not sure if this does anything (my only experience with it is that the Doom 2 wad file does this).

Now to explain how these things actually work! First, sprites. A sprite is an image that represents an object or creature in the game, and a cool thing that GZDoom does is let you use generic PNGs instead of Doom's proprietary GFX format. Sprites use the following naming scheme: a four-letter identifier, a single character denoting what frame of the animation the image represents (the Arch-Vile, which has the most sprites out of any monster in Doom 2, has frames that go from A all the way to Z, and then [, \ and ]), and finally a number from 0-8 that indicates the angle the Thing (that's the technical term for a Doom Engine entity, by the way) is at. Using the Imp as an example:

The "0" angle just means that the sprite should look the same regardless of the player's angle; this is used for items, decorations, the death animations of all monsters (including players), and the two sprites used for Doom II's final boss.

A cool thing about sprite angles is that you can actually make a sprite work for multiple angles; by adding an extra frame-letter and angle-number after the first set, you can do things like have a monster whose left and right walking frames are the same but mirrored by formatting the sprite's name as something like NAMEA2A8 (in fact, the Imp uses this technique for all its sprites apart from its death animation).

Next up, flats! Flats are square textures that are designed to go on floors or ceilings (though you can use them anywhere, including as sky textures!) but lack the flexibility of patch-based textures. You literally just. Import your texture and put it between F_Start and F_End. That's it. That's how a flat works.

And finally, patches. Patches are complicated, but very easy to use when you know what you're doing. First, put your image between P_Start and P_End, then right click it, put your mouse over the "Graphics" dropdown, and select "Add to Patch Table". You will then be prompted to create a TEXTURES lump; click "Ok" with the default settings. This creates a Texture1 lump, and the "Patch Table" (which is just a list of patches, which I will explain soon), alongside P_Start and P_End if they aren't already present (and a dummy texture). Double-click Texture1 to open it, and then select "New Texture" (you can adjust the scale, too):

Once this is done, go to the top-right corner and click "Add patch":

By default, you only have access to any patches you have assigned, but a cool trick I use in my own mapsets whenever I want to modify an official texture is to copy its Texture1 entry from the Doom 2 WAD, then paste it into my WAD's Texture1 and rename it. This does create copies of the constituent patches in your own wad's P_Start/P_End section, but you can delete those and it will still work fine.

Both patches and Flats are limited to 8-letter names, so be warned.

The actual final thing to talk about is converting PNGs to GFX; this is a simple process, but it can cause issues with colour. Basically, Doom has a very specific palette:

While this can look pretty good, on images it wasn't designed for or that use colours it doesn't feature, it can look pretty bad. For example, if I put this random image I made through the conversion process:

Then it comes out looking like this:

All the more cyan-adjacent hues become more blue, it nuked the antialiasing, and some of the gaps in my colouring are now much more obvious (especially on the fifth character's head and legs).

My point is, only do this if you want your mod to be compatible with more vanilla sourceports, or if you want to reduce the filesize. Otherwise, you're better off just using a strict palette when making the sprites and keeping them as PNGs.

Custom palettes are possible, but like. Literally all you do is click "New Entry", select "palette", name it, click the "Import from" button (purple page with a diagonal arrow on the top-middle of the palette-view window), set the filetype on the file explorer to "PNG", and import your custom palette image (which should be square (non-square images get squished and lose some colours) and 16x16 at the smallest, though the images I normally use are 128x128 because for some reason they're scaled up by a factor of 8, even though they display the same when imported regardless of size). You can even test them out or add them to the in-built palette list, which is nice. If you want it to override the default palette when your WAD is loaded, name the lump "PLAYPAL", which is what Doom's palette is called.

Now we get to talk about text lumps! I don't have much to say. Do the "New Entry" thing, select "Text", and name the file. The ZDoom wiki - which I will be linking to at the end - has information on each type, so check those out.

Map making

This is the final main section of this, and I'll try keeping it fairly brief and simple. Doom maps use four main elements; Vertices, Lines, Sectors, and Things. A Vertex is, well a vertex; it's a point in 2D space that acts as a starting or connecting point on a Line. Lines can be either walls or walkover triggers, depending on how you use them. Sectors can be rooms or shapes on the floor, and have properties such as damaging floors, being "underwater" (the player can swim and sound is muffled), or even having different gravity. Finally, a Thing is any entity that isn't one of those, ranging from monsters to player-starts to decorations, plus some complex technical ones I can't even begin to explain.

Useful resources

I am not good with words, but these places are!

ZDoom wiki - covers both regular ZDoom and GZDoom, plus other sourceports like the multiplayer-focused Skulltag and Zandronum. It has guides about ACS and ZScript, two of GZDoom's most useful tools for scripting maps and Things, respectively, as well as the obsolete "DECORATE" language which ZScript incorporates many elements of.

Dragonfly's Doomworks - mapping tutorial resource. I use their portal tutorial a lot whenever I want to put portals in a map.

Doomwiki - good for looking up monster and weapon stats for if you're making custom Things.

#doom #gzdoom #tutorial #gamedev #game engine

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redbullcateringfiction · 10 months ago

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Chapter 8 -

Cantata

Arabella is the executive assistant for Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff. 10 years into her career, it looks like the tide is changing, and she's beginning to question her relationship with him. Is it something more, or nothing but an idea lingering in her head?

F/M, Fluff, Boss/Employee Relationship, Romance, Pining, Love, Slow Burn

Eight chapter below the cut or click here for AO3

Click here for the previous chapter on Tumblr, and click here for a list of all chapters

(Total: 34872 words thus far)

Where I wander: An opinion by the ‘bitch’

Thursday, March 12th, 2021 6:20 GMT

Author: Arabella Lazaar

Edited by: Jeffrey Martens and Shane Coughlan

Editor’s note, March 12th, 2021: Arabella Lazaar is the former partner of Irish rock band Four Odd Bottles singer Cathal Lynch. Their 3 year relationship was not public knowledge until October 13th, 2019.

If I were to recall every moment during our relationship, I would not question where I went wrong.

Formula 1 is filled with huge personalities and names. There’s no doubt many fans could tell you how they imagine their favorite drivers’ to be, and I can assure you they would be 90% correct. Being in Formula 1 requires being surrounded by glass walls at all times. Your most intimate self is constantly on display. This was something I never enjoyed. Afterall, I suffer from agoraphobia. Seeing into the distance, and seeing the crowds of people is terrifying. I have forced myself to be in these situations. In God’s name, why?

I’ve always loved formula racing, but I never thought I could be an integral part of it. I never had the skills nor talent to be a driver or engineer. I, however, think I have quite the head on my shoulders. Micromanaging people and information became second nature to me. It’s a natural skill that one develops when their anxiety tells them to avoid everyone and everything. So, I saw an opportunity in Formula 1, and put my effort into joining a team. I set aside every fear I have to put my brilliance on the table instead.

During that process, I learned that if I am constantly moving (as it is a job requirement), and hiding behind those big personalities, those glass walls become a comfort. I could be entirely isolated while surrounded by people, because no one cared about me, really. I could also be socializing with some of my favorite people. Above all else, I serve as an important cog in the well-oiled machine that is Mercedes-AMG. It was the dream I sought out.

In 2016, I came upon Cathal Lynch, and our romance began to bud. Nothing new. Just another person to hide behind so I could continue to value my loneliness. This is the moment where I went wrong. Cathal had been correct from the beginning: There was no way to keep our relationship secret forever. We had two incredibly different opinions on this. I believed it could be managed for a long time. Until a wedding, at least. Cathal waited just days before asking if he could reveal me to the public. This became a constant item of discussion. In the meantime, every song Cathal released was a reflection of our relationship. The trips to Morocco to visit my extended family, our house in Brackley covered with his white cat’s hair, and of course, my career. Every time a song was written, and released, I would panic. It was all pieces of information that would lead people to me. The glass walls started to show their cracks.

Then, in 2019, they finally crumbled. I was now a microcelebrity. Yes, I had spoken to a few Formula 1 magazines, but my Instagram had never been on television. This was an entirely new world for me. Cathal did not help me navigate this new world. The strain on our relationship was too large, and Cathal moved out of my home in Brackley just a week before the COVID-19 pandemic hit. This was 2 years ago now. With the collapse of the life I knew, I tried to embrace the disaster. Maybe I’m being dramatic, but when I looked around, all I saw was the shambles.

Wherever I turned though, Cathal was there.

And so I wonder, where can I wander? Cathal follows me everywhere. My job is micromanagement, and Cathal’s seems to be micromanaging me. Every song seems to center around some sort of belief I was using him. I will not apologize for something I did not do though. 1 break up album is understandable. 2 break up albums is uncomfortable. 2 albums and 5 singles is a deliberate assault on a person’s life. I don’t know how he walked away from this so hurt, and I would like to apologize. I would also like to never see him again.

Perhaps, that is what makes me a bitch to him. I am a bitch (as it is a job requirement). I will accept that. I have developed a hardened exterior in no small part due to the previously described situations. I will not accept the assertion that I was nothing more than a woman seeking out fame. I easily could’ve found it in my own job. I chose not to.

I cannot continue to maintain my isolation though, that much is clear. Cathal hasn’t left me alone for 2 years. An essay won’t stop gossip and an army of fans to spread it. This latest incident is proof by itself. Even had the song not been clearly targeted at me, enough speculation would have led people to believe it was. So, I believe I should address at least one other item:

I choose to own the label of bitch, but no woman should have to make that decision because a man decided to label her as one. In the interest of fairness however, I believe Cathal Lynch should accept the label of ‘misogynist.’

As written through correspondence with Arabella Lazaar and Jeffrey Martens. Arabella Lazaar is currently the personal assistant to Mercedes-AMG team principal Torger “Toto” Wolff. Jeffrey Martens is her legal counsel and acquaintance.

Comments on this piece are unavailable.

“Black screens are going up,” I heard over the headset, and immediately took it off. Nothing was going to be happening for a moment.

“Fucking hell,” Toto sighed. “Gearbox issue, we’re not even on the road.” He looked over at me, and I saw a smile creep over his face.

“Let me show you what Bono sent me,” He smirked, raising his eyebrows. He handed over his phone and I saw a tweet.

PopCrave

Cathal Lynch temporarily banned from Formula 1 races after releasing “Bitch,” and showing up to his ex-girlfriend’s job. Video below.

I looked at the video thumbnail. There he was in his stupid Red Bull shirt, but his hair looked different. He had clearly cut it, and his eyes looked tired. He no longer had the shaggy, boyish look he had when we broke up. Instead, he looked like a real celebrity. I clicked on the video and listened closely.

Cathal was leaving the paddock, and a bunch of media had already surrounded him. “Cathal, Cathal. Why are you leaving the paddock today?” One called out. He stopped and spoke into the camera, as I knew he couldn’t resist.

“I was apparently ‘banned’ due to some violation. I don’t know what. My team is on it. It’s absurd. I bought my ticket. The song was planned to be released months ago. I apologize though to all the fans who might’ve expected to see me here,” He groaned out an obviously prepared reply. He knew why he had been banned. No way he couldn’t.

“Cathal, did you see Ariana Lazaar’s response?” Another reporter called out.

“Huh?” He asked walking towards them.

“Did you see Ariana Lazaar’s response?”

“Arabella? You mean Arabella? And no, what response? She hasn’t said anything,” Cathal answered.

“10 minutes ago on the Guardian,” The reporter explained.

“What? What’d she say?” Cathal asked.

“She called you a misogynist,” He responded. I could see the gears in Cathal’s head turn. “Mr. Lynch, do you have a response? Cathal, do you have a response?”

“That bitch.”

I could hear a collective ‘whoa’ come from the crowd of reporters as Cathal flipped his sunglasses down. The reporters chased him down as he climbed into his car and drove off. I looked up at Toto, and immediately laughed when I saw his huge smirk on his face.

“Nice response, by the way. PR is absolutely in love,” Toto explained.

“I…I appreciate that,” I smiled.

“I’m so very serious. I think he just ruined his own career, and you get to keep that pretty smile on your face,” Toto said, before suddenly looking around. “Where’s Netflix?”

“Not here,” I shrugged.

“They’re not going to put this in, right? No point, right?” He asked. “It’d be weird.”

“If they do, they’re not interviewing me,” I nodded.

“Where’s Susie? Do you know?”

“Uh…not sure actually.”

“Let me text her. Keep your ears open on the headset, will you?” Toto asked, stepping away from the computers.

“Will do,” I nodded, putting the headset back on. It was a series of chaotic conversations between engineers as everyone desperately tried to understand the electrical failure occurring in one of the cars. Less time on the road is less time to practice, and suddenly everyone was moving, calling, chatting, arguing, and complaining. If I took the headset off though, I would find it to be entirely silent. Maybe a door would creak open every now and then followed by pounding footsteps, but otherwise, it could be eerie during a time like this. The only time you’d find this room silent otherwise would be the delayed breaths as we all sat waiting to hear a driver was okay after a crash.

This was not silent out of fear though, it was silent because a good chunk of the engineers had run off to settle things on the car directly. The others were too busy staring at analytics on their computers. I recall one time when an assistant from Red Bull learned that I sit in the paddock and listen to things on the headset. I told him quite simply that when Toto isn’t here, I’m his boots on the ground for all things administrative. When Toto is here, I’m still his boots on the ground as he literally flies around taking care of everything else. He should have to worry the least about resource management and being sure he’s kept up on everything. I can handle the rest.

Suddenly, I felt a tiny tap on my leg, and looked over to my left and saw Jack.

“Oh, hey, Jack!” I smiled. I saw Susie was standing right behind me, as Toto ran off to handle something. “And Susie.”

“He saw you from across the room and went straight to practically begging to see you,” Susie grinned.

“Yeah? You missed me?” I asked, picking him up and putting him on my lap. “Here, let’s get you a headset. You might be able to hear your dad.”

I grabbed a pair that was too big and nearly falling off his ears. I held it with my hand as he grabbed on to either ear so he could hear.

“Y’know, Toto’s pissed about the car. I think he needed to see Jack to remind himself he can’t break any necks,” Susie nearly whispered.

“An electrical failure this soon is not exactly a ringing endorsement for the season,” I complained.

“Yeah and Red Bull is on our ass.”

“Gotta focus on our car first,” I shrugged.

“Hey, I was thinking. It’s been so long since we caught up. Did you want to grab a tea or something when you get a break from the action?” Susie offered.

“Uh…yeah, yeah. Of course,” I smiled. In a bit of a sad way, one of my only female friends is my boss’s ex-wife. At least they’re best friends, and at least she is just lovely. To be clear, I would choose to have more female friends. It just happens that I work in a female dominated field in a boys’ club. All of my colleagues who I find myself trying to impress and work against, are women. All of my colleagues who I have to work with and build a strong relationship with happen to be men. Except, really, Susie. Maybe a few others here and there, but our relationships just don’t mesh.

“Too busy?” She asked.

“No, no. I’ll make time. I’ll text you,” I explained. Jack gently pulled the headset off his ears.

“Bored,” He shrugged.

“That was quick,” I smiled at him. “Well what do you want to do?”

He shrugged again.

“Do you wanna watch me mess with…my calendar?” I asked. He nodded, much to my surprise.

“Oh! Alright then,” I responded, and went to my calendar on the computer in front of me. Susie chuckled and sat in the chair next to us. I kept one ear on the headset, the other on Jack and Susie, my eyes on the calendar, one arm around Jack’s back with my cellphone in my hand as I shot off text messages, and the other hand on the computer mouse. This type of multitasking is something they try to train into you during your training. I had been lucky enough to become particularly well versed in it at a young age, helping my parents manage the hotel. Little things here and there. Grabbing the phone while they showed someone around, or playing concierge for the guests. Then, when I came back while getting my training, I actually got the title. The idea of a tiny hotel in Ameland having a concierge was cute enough to bring guests. I mean, the island doesn’t have much, so all I really did was help them manage a little bit of travel to and fro, and tell them where to catch the best views. People still appreciated it…I think.

“Isn’t it nice to have the family back together?” My father asked.

“Yeah, pay no mind to the fact that Chadi has ran off to the nearest bar,” Nour laughed.

“Why is Chadi even here?” Farah asked. “He never shows up. Of course, Arabella offers a ticket to Formula 1 and he decides to show up.”

“I mean, at least he’s here,” I groaned.

“Thank you, Arabella,” My mother nodded.

“Besides, I give you guys tickets all the time. It’s not like this was the only time and Chadi used me or something.”

“Yeah, because Chadi would never do that,” Farah laughed.

“What are you talking about, Farah? Do you suddenly know him better than the rest of us?” Nour asked, leaning in.

“No, but I know our parents better than the rest of you.”

“Oh, listen to the favorite babble on,” Chadi slurred, suddenly appearing at the table. He pulled out the chair directly next to Farah, and smirked.

“Sorry, I tried to tell him to go back to his hotel since he’s drunk but he wouldn’t have it,” Mehdi spoke from the doorway. As the newest addition to the family, why did anyone allow him to play bouncer?

“Why are you still here?” Chadi asked.

“Well, I am married to Nour. I know you missed the wedding, but what? Are you such a drunk you can’t remember that?”

“Shut the fuck up, with all due respect, Mehdi,” Nour groaned. “It’s not your job to keep anyone in or out of the family despite what Farah may have told you.”

“Everyone, shut up!” My father shouted. “Chadi, we love you. but you can’t show up drunk and argue with your sister.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did everyone miss what she said about me?”

“No we heard it,” I complained, rubbing my temple.

“Then you should say to your favorite daughter to keep her mouth shut sometimes!” Chadi shouted at our parents.

“Favorites? We don’t play favorites,” Our mom spoke, softly.

“Raise your hand if you went to boarding school,” Chadi smirked. Nour and I raised our hands with Chadi.

“The favorite child gets the stellar education of Burgemeester Waldaschool? Meanwhile, the only one of us who is rich went to Saint-Denis and played squash because she was anxious.”

“Only one of us? I’m sorry, are you in my pocketbook, Farah?” Nour asked. “Your husband is a brain surgeon, fuckhead.”

“Watch your mouth,” My father warned.

“Stop fucking critiquing us and get on this one,” Nour answered, pointing at Farah.

“Farah, be nice,” My mother sighed.

“Be nice? That’s it?” Nour asked. “C’mon, you’ve got something better than that in there/”

“Leave mom alone, Nour,” Farah argued. “She hasn’t done anything.”

“Actually, our parents have done everything,” Chadi slurred. “When you think about it.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about, you fucking drunk?” Farah interrogated.

“I think what Chadi is saying-” Nour began.

“I can speak for myself, fuckhead,” Chadi interrupted. “They chose you to be the favorite, me to be the prodigal son that has yet to return, and Nour to be the envious older brother. And Arabella to be the anxious one who sits there twisting her fucking hair and not saying shit.”

I slowly took my hands out of my hair. I mean, yeah, he was right.

“Why are you mad at Arabella? She is literally just sitting there,” Nour asked.

“Because she’s literally just sitting there. She’s not saying anything of value and just watching this thing go down,” Farah groaned. Farah turned to me, eyebrow raised, and hair falling out of her bun. Chadi turned to me, with his body clearly wanting to slump over. Then Nour, the most cleancut one at the table, turned to me with a slightly crazed look in his eyes, like he smelled blood and was ready to go after it. Then my parents. My mother and father both turned to me, instead of speaking up and trying to solve this problem.

“Listen, everyone needs to shut up. I brought you all here. You didn’t have to come, any of you. You chose to. Farah, just accept the fact that you’re the favorite. Our parents can barely admit it because it’s true. I’m sure you went through shit too though, I guess. Chadi, you’re drunk. Go back to the hotel, and just fucking sleep it off. And Nour, stop just fueling drama because you want to see the family blow up. And mom, and dad. At least realize that Farah is your favorite. Maybe if you admitted it, all of us would calm down or something. And I will keep playing negotiator since that’s all you guys want from me. But everyone, otherwise, shut the fuck up. Actually, y’know what. I don’t care. I’m leaving,” I complained. I stood up and left the table. No one came after me. Why would they? They were probably too self-absorbed to have even heard what I said.

“We’ve had Bottas on the road for 5 or so laps right now. We don’t have a lot of time left in the morning session,” Someone called from the radio.

“How many laps can we get in?” Toto asked.

“Maybe 10? 15 total?” A response rang out.

“We’ll take it. It’s day one, he needs to be on the road,” Toto groaned. Toto turned to me and rolled his eyes. “Well, at least he’ll have those. He’s going to absolutely have my ass later.”

“He’ll learn to live with it,” I shrugged.

“It would be better for him to learn to live with Max and Charles.”

“Speaking of Charles,” I gestured towards the screens. “Car’s down.”

“Well…and there it goes. Red flag. Alright…6 laps from Bottas?” Toto shrugged. “Pfft. This is just uber good, yeah?”

“I’m going for lunch in a few,” I sighed, taking off the headset.

“You’re going to be in the garage for the afternoon session then?” Toto asked, tapping my shoulder so I could turn around to face him.

“Nope, my weekend is in the motorhome.”

Toto raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ll be back, but I’m talking shit with Bono when I get back,” I sighed. Bono looked up from his place to the left of Toto and raised an eyebrow.

“Who are we talking shit about?” He asked, putting down his papers.

“Toto,” I whispered.

“Alright, you two,” Toto chuckled. “But before you go, Arabella. Give me something to distract myself for a moment. What do you want for your anniversary?”

“A pen would actually be nice,” I sighed, taking out my phone and scrolling.

“Still on about a pen. Anything else?” Toto groaned.

“There are good pens, Toto,” Bono nodded. I suddenly realized I had way too many notifications for me to continue comfortably looking at my phone. Even if just to make myself look busy.

“A fountain pen?” Toto asked.

“Oh, I would never use a fountain pen,” I sighed.

Toto threw his hands up. “Then what good of a gift is it?”

“I mean, she writes a lot,” Bono shrugged.

“She writes a lot. No worries, Arabella. I’ll make sure you get a pen. It will be the best gift you’ve ever gotten," he winked. For a moment, for that moment, everything was about what he had just said. Of course, our relationship is professional. At best, friendly. However, it would be irresponsible for me not to admit though that a part of my cold exterior could be melted away by the simple gesture of someone wanting to do something nice for me. Was that just part of my seemingly growing crush on him? I don’t think it matters. What it really says though is how desperate I am for someone to care about me.

“You see how her eyes just lit up? I think she really does want a pen,” Bono laughed.

“Maybe,” I cringed at myself. I could just imagine my doe eyed look for a few seconds. Toto just smirked though, implying that at the least, he didn’t notice the ‘desperate’ part of my expression.

“Yeah, uh…do you have a recommendation?” The security guard sighed, looking me up and down.

“Yeah, uh…Lewis Hamilton?” I mocked.

“The attitude is not cute on you,” He responded, looking through the list. “Well, just because you’re on the list, doesn’t mean you get to come in.”

“Then what’s the point of your list?” I groaned.

“Do you think you’re Grace Kelly?”

“Do you think you’re the secret service?”

“I am,” He sighed, quickly flashing his ID. Oh…

“Alright, Schatzi,” I heard from behind me, as an arm wrapped around my shoulders. “I thought you’d already be on this boat, huh?”

“Yeah, I did too, Toto,” I sighed, looking at him. First kiss, second kiss. Just a brief touch on each cheek. The security guard looked at me in the eyes, and then back at Toto, before stepping aside to let us in. Toto let go of me, slipping into the crowd, as I began to follow him. Right before I did though, the security guard grabbed my arm.

“Now I have to know…who are you?” He asked.

“His assistant,” I shrugged. The security guard watched as I slipped into the crowd, but not quite disappearing before I blew a raspberry at him. I’m childish…but who cares at this particular moment. I’m on a billionaire’s super yacht, at the request of the best F1 driver in the world and another billionaire, and within my sight right now is Prince Albert. I took my fingers through my hair. I straightened it for the first time in a very long time. I stepped further into the party. It's hard to feel comfortable when surrounded by people like this, but nevertheless, I couldn’t help but savor the moment a little bit.

My anxiety was creeping up though. I could feel it. I quickly moved towards one of the servers and grabbed a glass of champagne, and chugged it. I grabbed another before they even moved away. I refuse to not enjoy myself, no matter how much alcohol it takes. The good thing about being unrecognizable is that no one is really desperate to talk to me. So, I can float through the party like a ghost…wait…why did I come then?

“Hey, Arabella!” I heard from deep in the crowd in front of me. The British accent and ability to remain soft spoken while yelling was impossible not to recognize. I pushed through the crowd, following the hand waving to me.

“Oh, hey!” I smiled. Lewis gave me a nod, and smiled.

“I swore to God, I saw your boyfriend floating around here,” Lewis said, looking around.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Lewis Capaldi?” I asked.

“Oh, you know…it might’ve been. They do look alike, don’t they?” He sighed. “Is Cathal here?”

“In Monaco? Yeah. Here at the party? Likely not. We try to split up our engagements. Avoiding speculation and all that.”

“Ah, yeah. Not fun dating celebrities, is it?”.

“I mean…it’s great,” I smiled.

“You don’t have to lie,” Lewis laughed. “But, I’m glad you could come. Sometimes these parties feel a little…weird. It’s like 20 year olds and 50 year olds. Nothing in between. Except us, I guess.”

“Yeah, it's definitely interesting. But this isn’t my first party in Monaco…maybe the most elite one I’ve been to though,” I cringed, looking around.

“Oh, one thing I did want to mention. I am having a less elitist party tomorrow. Less princes, more fun. Bring your swimsuit, bring Cathal, it’ll be great. Less intense at least. I’ll text you the details.”

“Cathal? I don’t know…I…”

“Don’t worry. We know discretion. Despite what it may seem like, there are ways to keep things quiet. Promise,” Lewis winked.

“Thanks,” I smiled. I took a deep breath and looked around the party from my position. “I’m…going to go mingle. I’ll catch up with you when I see you.”

“Got it. See you tomorrow,” Lewis smiled.

I stepped in the direction of the exit. I appreciated Lewis’s offer, and maybe I would go tomorrow. Today though, I just am not sure if this is the environment for me. I can’t say I find this to be particularly comfortable. I’m not famous, and I don’t want to be. I barely got let in the door. I shouldn’t be here. I just shouldn’t-

“Are you leaving already, Arabella?” I heard Toto behind me.

“Oh…yeah,” I answered, turning around.

“Well, before you go, at least let me introduce you to some people. I was just telling everyone about my amazing assistant, and they were just saying how they have to put a face to the name.”

I walked directly to the right of Toto, and waved to the group of men he was talking to. 2 hours later, I was still on the boat. Sure, I didn’t belong with the celebrities, but maybe that’s not my niche in places like this. But I can definitely play assistant in places like this. And I kind of love it. Sharing stories of messy conversations and quadruple bookings, all while showcasing how damn good I am at managing it? It gets no better.

Tag list: @daddyslittlevillain, @littleheaven

#f1 2023 #f1 fandom #toto wolff #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #fanfic #formula 1 rpf #oc of color #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fluff

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