#feel free to add a bit of your own film reel here

[vetometo]

Milestones

Strange, how you just keep existing

How life offers you little to no pretty bows to wrap your stories with

Does everyone live this way I wonder?

Do they also divvy it all up into deadlines and important dates

Manageable chunks

And flounder in between?

Do some people live continuously?

Am I the outlier with my intermittent springs?

And I'm awake and aware through all of it, that's the thing

There's respite to be found but no sleep in the spaces I've created

So I stay, thinking, turning, examining

And await the new milestone to greet

[kayecorral]

Freight Car

Chapter One of the Brown Book Series

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of violence, PTSD (!), swearing

Word Count: 3.4k

Series Summary: Nine years ago, The Winter Soldier murdered your friend in front of you. Nine years later, Bucky Barnes shows up at your door with the hope of making amends.

⭑⭑⭑

⭑⭑

⭑

You wake up on the floor again.

In the crossfade between dreaming to waking, the hardwood is concrete against your cheek. The sweat in your hair is the slick of blood. You fade in and out, and awareness comes back slowly. A siren descends, moving closer and closer, then recedes into the quiet. You don’t know if you imagined it.

You do know that your alarm isn’t blaring. Your ringtone isn’t sounding. The birds chattering and chirping at your window are real. The steady knocking of your heart against your ribs is real. Maybe that’s enough.

You open your eyes. A sliver of light from the parted curtains cuts across the floor. Above it, dust dances in the still air. All is calm. If you had woken up in your bed, this would be a good morning.  

But you didn’t wake up in your bed. So, you peel yourself off the floor and half-walk, half-limp to the bathroom. As you cross the threshold and flick on the light, a face flashes before you. Before your mind can work to discern its features, you slam the door shut and flip the switch. You cry in the dark.

⭑⭑⭑

You call into work again.

You’re tempted to stay where you are—curled in on yourself under the covers—but Dr. Kaplan’s gentle voice prods from inside your skull.  “Trauma changes over time,” it says. “You have to face it as it comes. You’ll feel worse if you put off dealing with it.”

She picks up on the second ring. Judging by the sound of clinking silverware, she’s on her lunch break. You promise to keep this impromptu session short.

“I haven’t had a nightmare like that in a long time. That’s why it hit me so hard, I think.” You begin. Your eyes fill with tears. You don’t know why. The nightmare is so distant now — just bits of feeling. Your brain is scrubbing away the memory like a mounted defense.

You’re quiet for what feels like minutes, and Dr. Kaplan just waits. She doesn’t pose a question or make a suggestion: in other words, she doesn’t offer an out. She never does. At first, her silence and seemingly unending patience unnerved you. You would later understand the value of having the space to organize your thoughts before speaking them.  

“I thought I was doing better,” you eventually say. “But now, it’s like I’m back where I started.”

“You are not back where you started,” she says. “We haven’t talked about your night terrors in months when we used to talk about them every session. That’s incredible progress. You should be proud of how far you’ve come.”

You hold the phone away so she can’t hear the tears in your voice. “But what does it mean? ”

“Well,” she pauses. “Have you been thinking about Jean lately?”

“Kind of,” you start to say, then remember Dr. Kaplan’s rule about specifics. “I’ve probably thought about her… twice in the past week. Marie, she, uh, she sent me a Facebook request.”

“Did you accept it?” She asks, with just a hint of amusement.

“I haven’t. I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?” Dr. Kaplan asks. She knows the answer, of course. You haven’t spoken to Marie since the funeral nearly a decade ago. You know she resents you. You saw it in the tightness of her smiles and the way her eyes turned to stone as you stood before Jean’s casket. You’re alive and her sister isn’t. You understand that. What you don’t understand is why she would reach out to you after so many years.

“I’m afraid of what she’ll say,” you admit.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Dr. Kaplan says. You shift on the couch. “She knows that. Maybe she’s been thinking about Jean, too.”

“Yeah,” you respond simply. Your head is light from dehydration, and you should probably take a nap at some point.

“I’d recommend you take easy today…”

“But?”

“But next week, I’d like to hear about your Facebook convo.”

You smile. The tears have dried on your face.

⭑⭑⭑

Snippets of dialogue filter through your thoughts. A woman is talking about a missing child, and a detective is asking the “who, what, where”s. It’s an episode you’ve already seen, but it makes for good background noise: the dramatic stings, the fast-talking, the screech of tires as the driver peels off. You don’t know why you gravitate towards crime shows. It might be a bit morbid, but until now, you’ve never thought to mention it to Dr. Kaplan.

You’re almost done with the cake batter. It’s looking a little watery, though. You really should have followed the recipe instead of improvising.

You reach for the flour bag on the counter, and just as you raise it to the mixing bowl, someone knocks at your door. You jolt and the bag slips from your hands. You narrowly dodge as it plummets to the ground. It lands with a  thump and now, your feet and pants and floor are covered in a film of white powder.

“Fuck,” you breathe.

There’s another knock, a bit louder this time.

“Give me — give me just a minute!” You call out, voice frayed.

You step over your mess and towards the door. You notice how slick your hand is on the doorknob, so you wipe your hands on your pants and try again. You forget your ritual of checking and re-checking the peephole. You unlock the door, already anxious at the idea of keeping anyone waiting.

When you finally swing the door open, a tall, dark-haired white guy is staring at the carpeted hallway floor. He’s not looking at you, but you feel exposed in your flimsy tank top and flour-splattered pajama pants.

Meanwhile, his look is carefully nondescript: a leather jacket, a dark shirt, and jeans. His hands are stuffed into his pockets and his shoulders are slightly hunched. He looks like someone who doesn’t  want to be seen, but here he is, standing at your door.

Maybe he’s just a neighbor on a reluctant mission to convince you to turn your volume down. Maybe he’s a dealer at the wrong address. Maybe he —

Your stomach drops. The shadows had been obscuring his face, but now that he’s tilting his chin up to look at you… the broadness of his forehead, the color of his hair, his height, all these things pull together. They pull tighter and tighter around your heart, and you realize that you’ve seen this man before. You’ve seen him a thousand times.

Your hand flies up to your neck. Fear hits like a punch to your gut. He looks normal — so normal that you could convince yourself that it’s not him. It’s not him.

But now, his eyes — a startling shade of blue— meet yours. Cold washes over you as every sensation in your body amplifies. You feel small and weak. Your vision starts trembling at the edges. You can’t move — not even to release your breath.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says. His voice sounds so different from the one in your memories. It’s not as coarse and low, it’s gentler and higher-pitched. “I just wanna talk.”  

“Talk.” The word escapes you, but you hadn’t meant to speak. Hearing your own voice makes this real.

He clears his throat. “My name is James Barnes, and I’m no longer The Winter Soldier.”

The Winter Soldier. You suppose it doesn’t matter now what that means. If these are your last moments, you’re not going to spend them deciphering code. Instead, you think of your life and all the things you’ve done and all that you haven’t done. In the span of moments, you try to make peace with your death.

“If you’re going to kill me...” you can’t keep your voice from shaking, “do it.”

His eyes widen. “I’m not here to kill you. I’m — ”

“Hydra wants to know what I know. Is that it?” Your mind reels with the new theory.

His eyebrows tick up. “Hydra doesn’t exist anymore,” he says with a measured tone. “Not really.”

You don’t know how to respond to that divulgence. You don’t even know if you can trust it.

“I’m here because you,” he adds your name — your real name, “are part of my efforts to make amends.”

Your thoughts catch on how he knows your name. It’s a small thing, really. He knows where you live, after all. 

“I know you’re confused, and I know you have questions.” He reaches up to scratch his neck. “And if you’re not, ah...” he glances from your face to your body, as if he were just now noticing your state of dress, “comfortable talking here, we can talk somewhere public. I guess what I’m asking is: can I buy you lunch or, uh, dinner? ”

You consider, seriously, that this man may be clinically insane. You have no other rational explanation for his showing up at your door on a Thursday afternoon, let alone his proposition. But you allow yourself to imagine it: you and him, sitting across a table with Jean’s ghost between and behind you. Your stomach turns at the thought.

“You murdered my friend,” you say slowly, “right in front of me.”

He nods. A pained look crosses his face, and that expression spurs your anger. It hadn’t occurred to you earlier that you should call the police. This man is a murderer, and he’s walking free. 

“You shouldn’t even be here — you should be in a prison somewhere!” You choke out as your throat tightens with impending tears.

“I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t want to kill her!” He says forcefully. “I didn’t want to kill anyone. I — ”

“But you did kill her!” You can’t hold them back anymore, and now, you’re crying in front of the man who killed Jean. Humiliation heats your cheeks.

“You did kill her,” you repeat quietly. You turn your watery gaze away.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He says.

In your peripheral, you watch him step closer. When you flinch, he bobs back.

You should step back, shut the door, and call the police. Not that a slab of wood could stop him if he wanted to get to you. You’ve seen his silver arm. You’ve felt the grip of its fingers at the base of your neck. But, maybe you could manage a dial ‘9-1-1’ before —

“Look, I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he interrupts your line of thought and, against your will, you look at him again, “I know I don’t deserve it, but I do want to offer you answers. Maybe it can…” He waves his hand as he searches for what he thinks are the right words. “Maybe it can give you some closure. And then, you’ll never see me again.”

You consider the furrow of his eyebrows. Over the years, you’ve tried reconstructing his face from its missing half. Now that you have the full picture, it makes perfect sense: the upper edges of the mask aligned with the cut of his cheekbones, the thin bridge really did conform to his nose, and the wideness of his jaw was merely accentuated. But his features are such a striking contrast to the severity of that mask and that metal arm. He looks so much leaner than you remember. He looks like a man, not a machine.

“Stay here,” you say. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He nods and his brow softens. You shut the door and press your forehead against it.

After a few beats, you rest your hand on the base of your neck and suck in a few deep breaths. It’s a calming technique Dr. Kaplan taught you. But without meaning to, you flex your fingers. Just as your heart was beginning to slow, you’re pulled into the memory of him raising you by the throat. You gasp for air.

That man is behind this door. That man is behind this door.

You race around the couch to snatch your phone off the coffee table. You unlock it with shaking hands and now, your thumb hovers over the number pad.

“Fuck,” you whisper as you press ‘9’.

It’s true. You do want answers. You want to know why he killed her. You want to know about Hydra and his role in it. You want to know why he left you alive.

So you’ll get your answers,  then call the cops.

You pull on some real pants and cover up with a sweatshirt. But at the door, you hesitate to step out again. If you’ve imagined that whole encounter, if it was some vivid manifestation of your survivor’s guilt, then you wouldn’t have to go.

You press your ear against the door, and, as if your doubts had broadcasted through the wood, he coughs. You sigh and grab the doorknob. Your hand isn’t sweaty this time.

At the sound of the hinges creaking, his gaze snaps to you. You meet his eyes without meaning to. There’s no recognizable emotion in them. The creases in his forehead and the furrow in his brow are gone. Now, his face gives nothing away.

“There’s a place about two blocks from here,” you say simply.

He nods and looks to you as if for direction. If he were anyone else, you would start heading for the elevator without further ado, but the thought of Jean’s killer trailing behind you makes your stomach flip.

“I’d prefer you walk ahead,” you utter. His eyebrows raise slightly, but he gives no other visible reaction.

“Alright,” he says.

He moves down the hallway, and you follow. Your eyes stay trained on his back. Aside from your occasional direction, it’s a silent walk.

⭑⭑⭑

Sully’s is a dive, but it’s always busy, and this evening is no exception. The people who frequent this place are the kind of people who get loud after a few drinks and don’t give two shits about you unless you’re bleeding out on the floor. That’s perfect. God forbid anyone overhears your questions about murder and secret organizations.

“You want anything?” He asks after you choose a corner booth and tuck in. His casual tone bothers you, but he keeps his distance, at the very least.

“No,” you deadpan.

He nods and starts for the bar. A few people graze him as he passes, and it’s so crowded that you’ve already lost sight of him.

You place your phone face-up on the sticky, varnished wood table. Absentmindedly, you nudge the pedal base with your foot. You try to hone in on any particular voice, but all you hear is a buzz of conversation. It’s a comfort. It means that you’re not alone and he can’t hurt you here.

“I know you didn’t ask for anything, but…” Fuck. Your knee knocks on the bottom of the table. His voice is so sudden at your side.

He places a water glass in front of you, and you stop yourself before you can say “thanks”. He drops into the chair in front of you, a beer bottle tucked between his gloved palms. Gloves. He’s wearing gloves. You hadn’t noticed until now.

There’s an awkward pause. He watches you intently. Your stomach is churning, but you steadily meet his gaze. You have so many questions. Some of the things he’s said don’t make sense. One thing, in particular, though, is nagging at you.

“Back there, you said you didn’t have a choice,” you say dubiously, “what did you mean?”

He takes a drag of beer and sets the bottle down carefully before he speaks. “They brainwashed me.” He replies bluntly. “Hydra, I mean.”

Brainwashing? It’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility. Aliens exist, as do superheroes and Norse gods and Mad Titans. What was once science-fiction is now very real and devastating.

He gives you a few beats to process, then continues. “For seventy years, I operated as The Winter Soldier.”

“Wait. Seventy years?”

“I just turned 106 in March,” he says with a sardonic smile.

“How is that possible?”

“I was on ice.” He sighs. “They only took me out when they needed me.”

“And Hydra… what happened to them?”

His jaw tightens. It’s the most reaction you’ve gotten so far. “They used to have this saying: cut off one head, two more take its place… Maybe they’ll come back, but right now, they’re gone.”

“So they aren’t after me,” you say softly, more to yourself than him.

“If Hydra wanted you out of the way, they wouldn’t’ve sent me.” He grimaces, even as his voice mocks a shrug.

You get it now: you’re not a threat, and you never were.

“But I was a loose end, wasn’t I? Why didn’t you kill me?”

He shakes his head and says, “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t elaborate further. Instead, he finishes off his bottle and shifts his gaze to the table.

After a minute or two, you consider moving on, but something about his expression, both vacant and pensive, implores you to wait. In the interim, you glance from the people knocking shoulders at the bar to the couple in front of you.

“It was that look on your face,” he says, and you find his gaze is fixed on you again. “It was rage. And grief. And that-that grief almost overtook everything else, but I saw it.” He leans towards you, his eyebrows knitting close. “That part of you that… that part of you that wanted me to kill you, too.”

He glances at his hand on the table and releases a shaky breath. “I understood that,” he says. “I know what it’s like.”

Like a clenched fist releasing, the tightness in your chest eases. You understand something else, now, too. This is meant to be an exchange. He wants answers as much as you do, no matter how much pain they carry.

“Do you wanna know what I saw? On your face?” You ask after a few beats. He hesitantly nods. “Nothing. There was nothing,” you say. “You didn’t even look human.  It was like you were an animal. And you were looking at me like I was prey.”

You look away. The intensity of his eyes threatens to pull you into that memory. “I’ve never been more terrified in my entire life.”

“I’m so sorry,” you hear him say.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” you say quietly, chancing a glance up.

His face twists into something like shame. If he were a different person, you might try to comfort him. But he’s not a different person. He’s a stranger wearing the face that’s haunted you for nine years.

“So why now?”

“Well, I was…” He mimics a snap with his right hand. “And after that, I… started going to therapy.”

He pulls a small, brown book from his jacket pocket. “My, uh, shrink told me to make a list of people I’ve wronged,” he says as he flips it open to a page in the middle and places it in front of you. “You’re one of the last.”

You find your name third-to-bottom. The ones above are crossed through. He glances from your face to your fingers as they trace his careful scrawl.

“You don’t let people look at this, do you?” You ask.

He half-smiles and shakes his head.

“So why are you letting me?”

“I, uh,” he flexes his hand. “I don’t know. I just… thought I owed it to you.”

You briefly consider asking about the other names, but he doesn’t owe you those. He owes you answers about the life he can’t return. Just as another question bubbles up your throat, a ringtone sounds. You glance at your phone’s black screen, then back to his furrowed brow. He reaches into his back pocket to fish out a flip phone. A  flip phone.  You haven’t seen one in years.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. He looks up from the screen.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he says as he squeezes out of the booth. He disappears as quickly as before.

⭑⭑⭑

You finally take a sip of water. The sweat of the glass bleeds onto your fingertips, so you wipe your hand off on your pant leg before touching your phone. 6:15, it says, which means you've been sitting on this hard, plastic seat for over forty minutes. He's been gone for about ten of them.

Before you can seriously consider just leaving, his form comes into view.

"I've gotta go, but..." He says as he pulls the brown book out of his pocket again. When he opens it, he tears a small piece from the page corner, then scribbles something with a pen.

He places the piece of paper next to the perspiration ring on the table. Stealing one last glance at you, he turns and leaves for the third and final time.

On it is a phone number and a name:

Bucky

[karimjohnson]

Falling: What If I’m Someone You Won’t Talk About?

Hey guys! Here’s another one for you all! It’s sad just like the last one! I hope you all like it as much as Cherry. This one is a bit long too lol. Thank you all for reading and sharing my stories. It really makes me feel good to know that you all are enjoying my stories! Please feel free to message me any ideas that you may have or something that you want to see me write! I will write any idea you come up with. I love to include you all into my writing. So don’t be shy! Like I said before, this Fine Line Series is on the top of my list to finish. But ideas are always welcome here. As soon as I finish this series, I will upload some other imagines for you all to read. I will add them to the master list once this is done. Much Love- K

Summary: You and Harry have been broken up for a couple of months. You have an interview for an upcoming movie you are starring in. You are going on the Late Late Show with James Corden. He asks you questions related to the movie but then he brings up some questions about you and Harry. You haven’t really talked about Harry to the public before, even when you two were still together. So you get really nervous to talk about his post break-up. But James surprises you with Harry’s new music video and song that an anonymous fan requested to play for you. As you watch the video, you notice someone in the crowd but you can’t quite place who it is. But James has an even bigger surprise for you after the show. 

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Rated: PG

Masterlist

Being in the lime-light is difficult when it comes to relationships. Your schedule becomes extremely busy and even if you aren’t working, you are still working. Paparazzi are everywhere you go. It becomes difficult to hide your personal life. It ruins the intimacy for you and your partner sometimes. You feel responsible for protecting your loved ones when it comes to the public eye. It’s hard to keep up with relationships when everyone in the tabloids tries to tear you down. Fans are amazing. They are the reason you keep following your dreams. But other fandoms can tear down your confidence when it comes to their idol. But hey, that’s the price of fame. Not everyone will love you and not everyone will be rooting for you.

For me though, being a young actress and dating a mega superstar was so hard. I was super close with Harry before we dated. Our friendship started around the end of One Direction and through his making of his first solo album. We were best friends and I supported him through the end of One Direction. He was super nervous about releasing his first solo album. I told him that it will be worth it and everyone will still love him the same no matter the outcome. It became one of the top albums that year. He was so happy and I couldn’t deny how proud of him I was.  

We stayed close together when he went on tour that year for the album. I tried my best to go out to his shows. It was a little difficult with me being in a few shows. Eventually, when he took his time off after touring, we reconnected and started dating in 2018. It became difficult to keep our relationship private. Everyone was watching us to see what would happen between us. Fans were blowing up online about us. Supporting us and others were jealous. It just comes with the business. I was trying to stay confident for Harry and our relationship. But it became difficult when the tabloids started saying they spotted Harry with other girls here and there. I’m not one to read into those things. Especially when I trusted Harry. I never once doubted his loyalty to me.

    But as the tabloids went on, it became difficult for me to hang on to what we had. Then I got offered a job for a big movie that was coming out. Harry began to dabble into his second solo album. Our schedules became harder to see each other with our separate projects. Then one night, I got a call from a mutual friend of ours. They told me that they went out to a bar and saw Harry there. He was hammered and apparently was flirting with some other girl there. I was heartbroken at the news. I was panicking around my home trying to figure out why he would do such a thing. I tried calling him a few times and texting him, but I got no response out of him that night. I got zero sleep. Thankfully, I didn’t have work the next day.

    When I woke up the next day, that’s when the pictures and videos were uploaded online of Harry’s scandal. I read the tabloids for once and watched the videos. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was so broken. My heart was aching as I laid in bed all day. I cried and ignored everyone who tried to check on me… Even Harry. Later that night, I decided to check my phone. I read all of Harry’s messages. He was upset and apologizing left and right for what he had done. I told him that I couldn’t forgive him and that it hurt too much for me to keep this relationship going. I had to protect myself for once. I loved Harry whole-heartedly and I loved everything about him. We had so much fun together and laughed so hard at our horrible jokes. But it was like all of that was gone now.

I didn’t recognize him anymore. I trusted him with the most fragile parts of me. It felt like none of that mattered now. We broke up and the tabloids kept reeling in on why we broke up. Paparazzi followed us both everywhere and asked horrible questions about why we weren’t together anymore. I decided to focus on myself and my career and I suppose Harry did the same. He ended up releasing his second album this October. I listened to a few songs and watched the music videos even though my heart hurt and yearned for him. I was still going to support him. He was someone I always looked up to in my career.

Now, after a few months my movie was about to come out. I was busy with meetings and interviews with my cast mates. That’s what I always did when I went through a break-up. I just throw myself into my work and focused on my career when shit hits the fan. Tonight, I was going to be on James Corden to talk about the movie I was starring in. I was super excited because James was always someone that could make me laugh. He was always so sweet and kind to me. I was in my dressing room watching the show. I was in a shiny, navy blue dress that stopped at my thighs and some black heels. My hair was pinned back to show off the sliver hoops in my ears. My make-up was natural, but it still made my eyes pop. I was playing with my bracelets nervously waiting for my que to head towards the stage.

    They were on a commercial break when I heard a knock on the door. The stage manager peaked their head in and smiled, “Places Ms. Y/L/N.” I smiled up at them and took a deep breath. I stood from the couch and followed them to the stage. There were a few crew members adjusting my mic for me. I smiled and thanked them looking over to the stage manager. They started to count down to signal that they were live again. “My next guest is incredibly talented and a truly wonderful young woman. She is starring in the new thriller movie called ‘The Chase’. Please welcome, Y/N Y/L/N everybody,” James spoke and the curtains pulled back for me to walk out on stage. I smiled bright and big walking out while the crowd cheered for me. I giggled and waved as I made my way over to James who was standing up beside his desk to pull me into a warm hug.

    I open my arms wide and wrapped them around him. “Oh, it’s so good to see you,” I said as I pulled away and took seat on the couch next to his desk. “It’s always a pleasure to have you here,” James spoke with a huge contagious smile. I blushed looking down feeling my nerves calming slightly. “So, you have been busy,” James spoke up breaking my nerves from taking over. “Yeah, I’ve been very busy,” I nodded looking at him gleaming with joy. “You are in this movie and I couldn’t be more excited to see it. I have been waiting for this moment! You have starred on many T.V. shows on and off. How does it feel going into the movie business,” James asked while leaning forward on his desk. I giggled and nodded along with him in excitement. “It’s definitely different for me,” I blushed looking at my bracelets.

    “I haven’t been around such a huge set before and it was so incredible to see how this story unraveled on set. It was interesting to see how everything comes to life with a movie script. Obviously with T.V. show sets, they aren’t as big as you would think. You don’t always get to do cool adventurous things like a movie. So, it was really amazing to be out of my element and learn new things about myself along with filming,” I smiled big to James and the audience who were in awe of my explanation. “Oh, of course. It’s completely different and so amazing with the story telling. So, tell us a little about the movie and who your character is in the film,” James said taking a sip of his water.

    I smiled and looked to the audience, “Well this movie is a huge thriller. There is a lot of action in the film. ‘The Chase’ is about a girl named Claire Bennett which is my character in the film. She finds out that her family is being held captive by these group of investors that meet with her dad early on in the film. She basically fights to save her family and it begins a huge chase/countdown to save her family.” The crowd ‘oo’ed and ‘aw’ed at my description of the movie without giving too much away. “That just sounds incredible,” James smiled big and looked to his cards. “I heard that you did all of your own stunts in this movie. Is that true,” he asked shocked and very interested in this rumor.

    I laughed and nodded slowly, “Yeah, that is actually true. I wanted to try something new for once. I met with the director and told him that this is my first big movie. I want to give it my all and I want to make him proud of my role. He was super cool about that and very happy to hear that I would be willing to learn something so difficult. We ended up finding the perfect stunt trainer for me and I started working with her. I’m so grateful for her and I’m definitely proud of myself for trying something so out of my comfort zone. I personally think it will make the film that much more great to see someone so devoted to their character.” James was stunned and started clapping. He stood up out of his chair and the crowd began to cheer with him.

    I laughed and waved everyone off. “That is just brilliant. I love your devotion in fully taking something on like that. We actually have the never-before seen trailer right here. I’m so happy you chose our show to release this trailer. Here it is,” James says pointing to the camera men to switch it over to the trailer. The lights dimmed for the audience to watch on a big screen. I smiled and looked at the screen with so much passion. It was incredible to see this came to life. I peered around everyone’s faces to see their reactions. Everyone seemed to be on the edge of their seats and that was the best reaction to hope for. I giggled as it came to an end and the lights came back up. James’s mouth hung open in amazement and looked to me. “That was incredible. We are going to take a short break and we will be right back to ask some more questions with Y/N,” James smiled to the camera and we went to break.

    As we took a break, I reached for my water and took a sip. “I just want to tell you how proud I am of how far you have come Y/N,” James spoke as we sat there waiting for us to go live again. I smiled and felt tears stinging my eyes. “Thank you, James. That means the world to me really,” I smiled and reached his hand holding it tight. He smiled and squeezed my hand, “Any time love.” I giggled and the management gave us the signal we were going live again. I smiled and leaned back on the couch holding my water. They counted down from three and pointed to James. “Welcome back to the Late Late Show. I’m here with Y/N Y/L/N and we are going to ask some more questions to get to know her a little better. We just discussed her new movie coming out and showed the trailer for the movie. Let’s get a little more in depth with who she is,” James smiled and the crowd cheered agreeing to his suggestion.

    I felt myself growing nervous again and smiled to everyone. “So, what do you like to do outside of work Y/N,” James asks with a smile. “Well, I love to read a good book or write in a journal. I love to spend time with my friends and family when I get free time as well. I try to keep myself grounded,” I giggle as he nods. “Now, have you been dating since your break-up from the mega popstar and one of my great friends Harry Styles,” he asked raising an eyebrow. I felt my heart slowly sink to my stomach at the sound of Harry’s name. I bit my bottom lip and looked down. I know the crowd is on the edge of their seats waiting for this answer. “Not recently no. I have been quite busy with interviews with my cast mates and promoting the movie,” I smiled a small smile trying to ignore this feeling of being sick.

“Now, I know that it is a touchy subject talking about him. But you and him haven’t spoken publicly since the break-up about each other. Why is that,” he asked leaning back a little. I could see the nerves in his face. I looked off to my management and back to him. My hands started sweating as I set my cup down on the table in front of me. “Well, Harry and I started out as great friends. I think that our friendship and relationship was something so personal to us. I know that I haven’t spoken about it because I believe we are both healing from what we went through. I believe that neither of us have anything bad to say about one another. It’s just a little touchy for us and being in a relationship in the public eye is difficult you know,” I say looking down breathlessly. My heart was all the way to my stomach now.

I swallow hard as I gathered myself and looked to James with a little smile. “I can understand that, yeah. Have you listened to his new album Fine Line at all,” James asked trying to give me a reassuring smile. “I have heard a couple of songs here and there. It has been hard for me to sit down and listen to it with my schedule, but I still support him whole-heartedly. He is super talented and I will always be one of his biggest fans. I plan on listening to it all the way through very soon though,” I nod to him and casually wipe my palms along my dress. “Well, today he released a music video for his song called ‘Falling’. It sounds like something you may want to hear. Do you mind if we play the video,” James asked leaning forward and looking out to the crowd. The crowd roared and pleaded with me to say yes.

I can’t lie I was slightly curious as to what the song is about. I was also curious to see what the video looked like. I bit my lip again and looked to my management. They shrugged with a small smile telling me it was my call. I looked to James again and nodded, “Sure, I am a bit curious.” James smiled humbly and nodded to the camera men to play the video. As the song starts, Harry is sitting on a floor with water pouring in around him. He is leaned against a wall soaking wet breathing deeply. It pans to his hand on the piano and then a full body shoot of him laying along the piano bench.

I felt my heart pick up speed as I listened to the lyrics and felt tears at the brim of my eyes. That’s when he starts singing the chorus and the pain in his eyes isn’t hard to miss as he looks into the camera. “What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm fallin' What if I'm down? What if I'm out? What if I'm someone you won't talk about? I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm fallin'.” My throat felt dry and like it was closing up now. I felt like I couldn’t breathe just watching this video. He was in pain and he was beautiful all in one. The water begins to rise in the video and can’t stop my eyes from letting the tears fall as the memories start to replay in my mind…

-Flashbacks-

         *** It was a rainy night in L.A. Harry had come over and we were watching some random rom-com that he chose while I made the popcorn. We were curled up on the couch wrapped up in each other in a blanket along the couch. He was running his fingers through my hair as I watched the movie happily. He leaned down and started kissing my jawline and then down to my neck causing me to giggle at the feeling of his lips. He started to chuckle softly and ran his hand up my side. I felt myself stiffen at his touch afraid that he will start to tickle me. That’s when he stopped, looking me dead in the eyes. I couldn’t help but get lost in the jade green eyes of his. They always captivated me.

         He then started to tickle me causing my whole body to jolt and squirm. Our laughter filled the air not caring about the movie anymore. I was squealing and trying to tell him to stop but he wouldn’t. He was determined to leave me breathless. Finally, after tickling me enough he slowed his fingers down. He started rubbing my sides gently to let me catch my breath. I looked up at him and smiling while panting. “What was that for,” I asked looking up at him with a playful smile. “I just love to hear you laugh,” he smiled big down at me and leaned down kissing my lips.***

*** I then began to picture him getting ready backstage in his dressing room at one of his concerts. I was drinking some tequila on the rocks watching him change. I was taking in all his features and how his tattoos shaded his toned body perfectly. I was so in love with this man. I could look at him for hours on end. I blushed when he turned to look at me. “What is it babe,” he asked looking at me raising his eyebrows. I looked down shaking my head and giggling, “Oh nothing.” I waved him off and he just smirked strutting towards me. “You know, it’s not polite to stare princess,” he had walked around the couch I was sitting on and leaning behind me. I could feel his hot breath against my ear as he spoke the words.

I squeezed my thighs together at the sound of his voice as he brushed my hair back. He attached his lips to my neck and I felt myself fall back against the back of the couch. I was in a trance at the feeling of his lips and hot breath against my skin. “Mm, I can’t wait get you alone after the show princess,” he smiled across my skin and I moaned softly looking to him. He pulled his lips from my neck and to my lips. I smiled into the kiss and pulled back slightly, “If only I can wait that long.” He chuckled and his stylist waved at us. “Hey lovebirds, I hate to break up the love-fest, but we need to get you dressed Harry,” she smiled at the sight of us and we both blushed this time. “Later, I promise,” he whispered to me and I nodded trying to hold it all in.***

*** I remembered the time we were at Harry’s place cooking dinner together. He had turned on some music and we both sang loudly with one another. We were laughing and dancing around the kitchen. He then pulled me into his arms and spun us around the kitchen. I giggled and held onto him as he dipped me down. I looked up at him with a lopsided grin. He chuckled and pulled me back up leaning our foreheads together. “You know I love you right,” he smiled down at me. I nodded slightly and placed my hands on his cheeks, “And I love you Harry.” He grinned and kissed my whole face causing us to break out in a fit of giggles.

*** The day the tabloids flooded online with the proof of Harry cheating on me was the hardest. I was unable to move in bed. I felt like I was glued down to the mattress. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that he touched someone else the way he touched me. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that he kissed someone the way he would kiss me. The fact that he had the nerve to take her back to his hotel crushed every ounce of me. He decided to be intimate with someone other than me. It hurt me because he had touched me in ways no other guy has. He taught me incredible things about how to make my body feel the way he made it feel. He took me to euphoria in our intimate moments. How could he throw that all out the window for some random girl?

My mind raced with so many questions that I honestly wasn’t sure I wanted the answers to. Was it worth? Was she good? Was she better than me? Did she make him feel the way I did? Was he faking it this whole time with me? Did he really love like he said he did? Why did he have to do it like this? Was he bored of me? Was he tired of me? Was he mad about our schedules? Was he just lonely and decided on someone random? Did he ask her to meet him there? Was this all just planned out to hurt me? Why me? Did he still love me even though he made his bed? How could this be the end? Who was he now? Do I even recognize him anymore?

There was a day we met up after our break-up to try and discuss things that popped into my head. We went to the Beachwood Café and sat there both unsure of what to say. “I-I didn’t mean for this to happen…,” he said softly. I felt my heart crack and I was unable to look at him. Who was this person sitting in front of me? “It was a mistake Y/N. I was drunk and I don’t know what had gotten into me. I was stupid,” he whispered trying to hold back his tears. I sniffled and tried my best not to cry. “Harry… I don’t think I can trust you… not now. You made the choice to leave with her and take her back to your hotel,” I felt a single tear begin to fall down my cheek. “Y/N… don’t say that please… I love you and I don’t want to lose you… not like this,” he was full blown crying now. “I’m sorry Harry… I just can’t right now,” I sniffled as my heart chipped away at the crack in his voice.

“Please don’t go…,” he sobbed quietly and I couldn’t bring myself to look him in his eyes. I took a shaky breath and looked down at my hands that were gripping the bottom of my hoodie. “I’m sorry Harry… I loved you and I cared a great deal about you…but I need to be alone right now… I don’t know what to say to you… I don’t even recognize you right now…,” I whispered as tears just spilled out from my eyes. Harry sobbed as I finally stood from our table. I slid my sunglass down so no one bothered me on my way out. If that was even possible at this time with our break-up still fresh in the public eye.

As I turned to leave, I felt his hand reach from mine. That was the breaking point for me. His touch. I didn’t want to be touched by him after his mistake. It made me feel disgusted with myself. It made the questions grow louder in my head and I clenched my hand into a fist before he had the chance to interlace our fingers. My heart finally shattered as his hand wrapped around my wrist and the words left his mouth. “Who would I be without you? What if I’m someone I don’t want around Y/N,” his voice was shaky and it cracked again. “I have to go…,” I whispered looking down to my feet. I gently pulled my wrist out of his grasp and headed out of the door making a beeline to my car. ***

-End of Flashbacks-

         As I pull myself out of my head, I look back up to the screen as the water rises around Harry as the bridge of the song cuts in. “And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again,” he sang and there was the shatter in my heart once again. I needed Harry. I will always need Harry. This song was about us. It was about his mistake and how he was hurting due to his own actions. He admitted it in his lyrics. I was trying to hold back my sobs as James looked over to me and handed me his handkerchief. I thanked him softly and started to wipe my tears away. Harry was now completely under the water. He was drowning. The music went silent and he was just sitting at the piano in pain. I looked out into the crowd to see how everyone else was doing with the song and video to distract myself from falling more apart than ever.

         I was watching some reactions. Some people were wiping their faces and sniffling. Others were mesmerized by Harry’s lyrics or just him in general. I bit my bottom lip to keep it from quivering still scanning the audience. I noticed a familiar figure sitting with a hand over his mouth and his hood was up. It looked like he was wearing sunglasses because the screen was reflecting off the lenses. I turned back to the screen at the sound of Harry’s voice.

         I felt the pieces of my heart crumbling in my chest as I watched him on the big screen. How could he still be so handsome even though he was broken in this video? He was floating gracefully underneath the water as his shirt floated around him. I wanted to just reach in the water and pull him out. As the video ended, the lights came back up and looked down still wiping my face. “Well, that was… heartbreaking,” James says softly and looks to the audience. I knew everyone’s eyes were on me now. I was just trying to gather my thoughts and make the tears come to a halt so I could speak up. “Are you alright love,” James asks holding out his hand for me. I nodded slightly and giggle to reassure everyone. “Yes, I’m alright. Just wasn’t expecting it to be as deep as it was,” I smiled up at him taking his hand. “I understand. I think we all can understand that. I just felt you needed to hear that song in particular from the album,” he smiled sweetly at me as I nodded at his thoughtfulness.

         “I appreciate that. It was an amazing song,” I say softly as he rubbed the back of my hand. “I just want you to know that this was an idea sent to me anonymously to surprise you in a way,” James looked out to the crowd and I followed his gaze to the crowd. I noticed the man that I saw before the video ended. He in fact, had his hood up and sunglasses on. I still couldn’t tell who it was underneath, but I felt like I knew them. I turned my attention back to James with a small smile. “Well, whoever it was I really appreciate it. It was kind of them,” I nodded. “We will be right back after this short break. Don’t go anywhere,” James said to the cameras. They cut to the commercial and I stood hugging James tightly.

         As we pulled away, James held my shoulders keeping me in place. “Listen, I hope I didn’t cross any lines with tonight. I really am proud of you and everything that you are becoming in this industry,” James spoke softly to me. I nodded and smiled, “No you didn’t cross any lines. I think it was about time I talked about Harry and I for once. It has been a couple months post break-up. I will say I was surprised with his song and video.” James laughed lightly and nodded. “I was too when I got the request to play it for everyone and especially you. Would you mind staying until after the show? I have a special surprise for you,” James smiled a hopeful smile. “Sure, thank you. I will be in my dressing room until then,” I giggled and hugged him once more.

         As I waited in my dressing room, I watched the rest of the show. James played a game with the audience before the show came to an end. I waited patiently with my management that praised me for doing so well with the interview, even if I did cry. They told me how I handled everything well when it came to Harry. I didn’t give too much away and that made me feel a little better. I was a little anxious while waiting on James to come back to the dressing room to give me my surprise. I felt like even my management knew something about it when I asked what they thought it might be. They didn’t really say much when I asked. I just shrugged it off as I played with my bracelets.

         There was a knock on the door and I stood pulling myself out of my thought about Harry’s song. I opened the door and there stood James with a warm smile. “Y/N, would you mind following me out to the stage,” he asked holding out his arm for me to take. I tilted my head at first confused. No one was here now, so why did we need to go back out to the stage area? “Sure,” I smiled and put my arm in his as he led us back towards the stage. We talked about the rest of the show here and there on the way. I was feeling even more nervous as we approached the curtains. “I will let you walk out there for your surprise. I have a few things to finish up in my dressing room with my management. Is that okay,” he asked stopping us and I pulled my arm away.

         “Yeah, I should be fine with that,” I said feeling very confused now. “Okay great,” he smiled and turned to walk away. I stood there for a minute trying to figure out why he wasn’t coming out to the stage with me. I shook my head slightly and slowly opened the curtain. I walked out and there stood the guy in the hoodie. He had his back towards me and was shuffling his feet around. I bit my bottom lip nervously trying to figure out why he was here. “Hey, is this my surprise? Are you the one that requested James to play the video during the show,” I asked nervously as I slowly made my way to the random guy. I saw him straighten his shoulders and stop his movements.

         I stopped a few feet behind him still curious as to why he was dressed this way. He slowly turned with his head down, “Um, yeah that was… that was me.” His voice shocked me slightly because he sounded just like… “Harry?” I asked the guy as his hands reached for his sunglasses pulling them off. He let his hood fall and finally looked up at me. My heart started to pick up speed at the sight of him. His eyes were still a little bloodshot… like he had been crying? “Yeah… I know that this is a bit sad of me to do. But I wanted to show you that I miss you and that I’m truly sorry for hurting you. Writing my second album was really tough when I lost you. So, I wrote about us. I wrote that song about our break-up and I knew that I had to make a video to show the world and you, how I was truly feeling after my mistake…,” Harry spoke looking down while playing with his sunglasses nervously.

         “I know that this is a bit much and it was probably hard on you. I saw how you reacted to the video. You were crying and I didn’t want to upset you more. I’m just really sorry. I’m stupid for ever letting you down. I was stupid for doing something unforgiving. I was stupid to let myself slip into someone you couldn’t trust anymore. It was all my fault and I take full responsibility for everything,” he sniffled and I could see the tears filling his eyes again. I didn’t realize that I was crying now too. He looked like he was going to break into a million pieces. He looked like he could crumble if I touched him. I slowly walked up to him and stopped in front of him. He looked up to me with his bottom lip quivering now unsure what to do with his self.

         “I told you that day… I didn’t know who I would be without you. I had to realized that I didn’t want to be that person who hurt the only good thing in his life. Sure… I love my fans and my music. I love my family and my friends, but most importantly… I love you. I was surprised that you even talked about me. I just miss having you around. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get back to where we used to be. To show you that I will never do that to you again. To build your trust back up,” he whispered looking down into my eyes. I placed my hand against his cheek and softly rubbed it with my thumb wiping his tears away. “I love you Harry,” I whispered and his whole face crumbled into a sob as he leaned his forehead to mine.

         He wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me into him and squeezing me tightly. I shushed him as he tried to steady his breathing. I wanted to just hold him together, but he was slowly crumbling into me. “God… I missed you so much… I missed your voice…,” he said as he buried his face into my neck. I ran my fingers through his tousled curls trying my best to keep him together. “I missed you too. And your voice,” I said softly, smiling to myself. He pulled back a little after calming his-self down again. He looked down into my eyes and then to my lips. I leaned up in his embrace and brought my lips to his. Our lips connected and there was that familiar spark again.

         After all this time, the flame and the spark never disappeared. After all this time, he was still the only person who could make me feel this way. He deepened the kiss by picking me up slightly off the ground and I felt him smile against my lips. He placed me gently back down and pulled back leaning his forehead to mine again. “So, can we start over? One step at a time,” he asked rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. I looked at him and we heard someone from behind us. “Oh, please say yes,” James said and we both turned to see the crew and management watching us with tearful and hopeful eyes. We both started blushing and laughing at the sight of our friends waiting for my answer. I turned back to look at Harry, “Yes, one step at a time.” He smiled and pulled my lips back to his as he spun me around happily.

[harryswatermelonsegment]

Pool Party

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles

Rating: R, text book smut

Word Count: 5k 😳

Warnings: Slight sub/dom tones I guess? & alcohol consumption

A/N: Sorry this is late, life somewhat resuming here in the UK so it means I’m back at my job. I managed to fall asleep mid edit folks 😳, this is my entry for the @helladirections Summer Feeling Fic Challenge, with the prompt “pool party” click the link for the masterlist. I’m still writing two more, one for @berrynarrybanana ‘s Sex Bucketlist Challenge but it’s turning out to be a 20k slow burn I wasn’t expecting 😬.Oops. But enjoy this one, I’m proud of her. My one other blatant thirst fic can be found here. Reblogs get free gratitude for the next 5 years 🍉💕

You'd been friends with Jeff since your teens, when his parents (despite their wealth), wanted him to get a job at the restaurant you worked at. In their rightful thinking, they wanted him to learn you had to work from the ground up.

Despite your clearly different class background you found a ton of common interests making the whole thing immaterial. He was a caring, down to earth guy and you were both people who really enjoyed sarcastically taunting each other every shift. You'd got used to visiting his house in the hills even though you'd been scared to get lost at first around his parents large house. Becoming solid friends quickly, you'd managed to keep in touch, as much as adult life would now allow anyway.

You knew his main role was managing a pop star but you'd not caught up in a minute and when you did, you kept your job chat out of the conversation where you could. This is why, as you barge through the kitchen, to the pool outside, you're shocked to nearly knock a stunned Harry Styles onto his behind.

"Fuck, shit I'm so sorry" you clutch your chest looking at the red wine on his tank top and his now empty glass. The soiled garment was tucked into some dressy shorts and partly covered by a loud hawaiian patterned shirt. Oh god what had you done?

You were quite honestly mortified. You'd never actually met the man himself, usually meeting Jeff at his for a few drinks or at a restaurant. You'd heard him mentioned in stories about travelling or how his campaigns were running Jeff into the ground with meetings. So, although you weren't a massive fan of his per se, in the way you didn't ask Jeff for updates or info, the way you'd hope you'd meet the attractive pop star was definitely not this.

He looked down at the offending stain then back up into your eyes, keeping his head angled down and blinking through his lashes. You couldn't read his blank expression and it put you on edge.

Maybe it was the heat trapped in the doorway, but as your eyes stayed locked you suddenly felt a fire spread from your navel up to your cheeks, and then from your center down to your toes. Your lower stomach clenched as you stared back at the guy covered in a good 2007 French rouge.

Fuck me he's pretty, you thought.

A rapid film reel of moments; sweaty bodies, those large biceps holding you against the nearest wall, smacking of lips against skin and moans of release flashed in your brain.

It had definitely been a while since you had got laid in your defense, your mood and pent up sexual frustration getting worse by the day as you tried and failed at the L. A. dating scene. Maybe you were picky, but horny and picky was an awful place to be.

However, the reality of the embarrassing scene you were currently a star of, flipped you back into the present.

Seemingly over the initial incident and hopefully not a mind reader to your thirsty brain, he takes you in and smirks.

Harry knew from the way your breathing hitched looking at his torso that you were at least a bit interested. He had clocked you the second you walked in through the big glass doors. A shirt of a band he liked and a natural beauty he wanted to spend some times with you he pondered. Ideally naked.

Zig zagging across the world promoting the album and had left little time to enjoy another person. Status and obligation to his job making it hard to just go out and meet someone. But here you were, dressed unlike anyone else, looking absolutely adorable in your embarrassment. You must be trustworthy if you're in Jeff's home,he wasn't a "bring your friends too" kind of host with his clients usually around.

This could be a fun evening for you both, he thought. Something unspoken, almost magnetic, drawing you both to one another. Surely that wasn't all his side right?

"I was told it was a good year, but I wasn't planning on consuming it quite this way?" inwardly he rolled his eyes at the barely there quip. But you laughed anyway.

"I am so, so awfully sorry, look, let's see if there's some dish liquid or something, possibly some of my next months rent in there too if I have to replace it" you let out a nervous laugh as you walked towards the kitchen. But in all honesty you weren't kidding.

Harry laughed at your sarcastic remark, impressed by your confidence in owning the situation and getting on with things. He casually watched your hips sway past a few people in to the open plan kitchen with as much subtlety as he could, you were confidentially locating all the parts needed to try and remove the offending stain.

"You seem to know your way around 'ere. I'm er…I'm Harry by the way" awkwardly waving as you mixed some solution in the sink drenching a sponge in it.

"Yeah" you smiled turning from the sink with the damp rag "known Jeff a good while, have definitely spilt red wine here before. I'm Y/N" you giggle. The beam from his own mouth matching.

"Ah! Y/N, of course, I've heard him mention you, didn't you once hide rotting mackerel in a unpleasant guys blazer?" he chuckled

"Heyyyy. Only after he spanked my ass getting him the check. Deserved a hot plate to the crotch too" you shot back.

You weren't sure where to go from here the thought of wetting down the white tank yourself definitely appealed but also seemed far too forward.

"Um…" you began gesturing with the sponge in your hand. You expected him to take it from you to sort himself out but..

"Oh yeah sorry" he replied shimmying his shirt off, dumping it on the back of a bar stool, then, crossing his arms across his stomach and lifting the tank top over his head you were slack jawed and frozen taking in the lean muscles and tattoos littered intermittently across his abdomen. He spread the top across the islands worktop flat, then grabbing the sponge with a simple "thanks" and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration as he tried to rid the dull red mark from it's center.

You still hadn't moved. A pink twinge to your cheeks as you watched his shoulder blades and back muscles scrubbing. Dirty thoughts circling your brain still.

"I would have helped you but I didn't want to start a wet tshirt contest in such a high end establishment yknow?" you thought out loud.

"Oh yeah, good call. I'm fiercely competitive Y/N so would probably be under that fancy waterfall thing by now showing off m'moves in my pants" he wiggles his hips trying to suggestively show you his "moves" but you can't help but smirk at just how endearing this man is. Dammit.

When he's finished with his shirt he drapes it over another barstool before handing you the sponge back.

If anyone asks him if he blatantly and deliberately got naked to gauge if you were into him he'd definitely deny it. But the truth is, he definitely did. Luckily for him, with the way you bite your lip and drag your eyes down his flesh as he brushes past your side to get back to the sink, he's right.

"Speaking of getting in the water in your" you use air quotes "'pants' I'm off to get out of mine" you declare, pushing yourself from the counter and keeping eye contact a second as you stroll back to the sliding doors leading to the pool.

"I… What??"

" The pool Harry?.... What did you think I meant?" you narrow your eyes and press your lips together before shutting the glass door again and turning once more to smirk at the opened mouthed man still by the sink.

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

You'd been schmoozing in the water for a few hours now. There were probably only 20 or so people still here and the 3rd frozen marg had got you buzzed. You were in the small hot tub type pool, attached at the top of the main one on a slightly higher level. You hadn't seen Harry for a while but the last few times you caught his eye he'd been surrounded by at least 3 other people fighting for his attention, so you banked your flirtations to soothe your own ego, grabbed another marg and tried to forget about how he had started a tornado inside you, yearning for his hands on your thighs and head peering up at you from where they met in the middle. The strong pull of lust was clearly in your head then. What a shame.

You put it to the back of your mind as you finished catching up with Glenne. Both flushed and giggly as usual, she was the perfect match for Jeff and their chemistry unmatchable. You always enjoyed hanging out with the both of them, if anything, they gave you hope your own match may be out there. She left you in the tub alone, as she went to grab herself another drink and check on her host duties boyfriend.

"Don't you find drinking whilst already in water the weirdest thing?" you look up to find Harry standing over your right shoulder as you sit with your back against the pool wall and your elbows propping you up behind you, drink in one hand. His eyes unsubtley slip down to where your breasts lay pushed together in your halter neck bikini. You definitely weren't imagining it then. Fucking fantastic, you think.

"I mean drowning yourself on the inside from the alcohol and being in more than 4 inches of water really adds a danger element to my life if I'm honest" you reply sipping your drink.

And there goes those dimples again.

He's just in a pair of yellow swimming shorts now which doesn't help the alcohol flush at all. Sitting by your right side, putting his short glass full of amber liquid and ice, on the side of the pool and sliding in to join you. He leaves a small gap, as to not appear a total letch but your smart mouth has him hooked.

Taking a sip of his drink with the water up to his collar bones he hums.

"I do feel incredibly dangerous now, you've got a point"

"I mean if you think that's danger" you edge closer, not drunk but buzzed enough to take your chances you whisper into the shell of his ear. "You should see what thrills are in the guest bathroom. 1st floor on the right? " he chokes on his drink as your suggestive whispers make his dick twitch. He definitely couldn't get out of the pool for a while.

You're gone before you get a verbal reaction. If this all goes badly then you can just hide in there and slip out to an Uber and never see Jeff again right? Right. Cool.

With a soft white towel around you and your heart rate high as you reach the main guest bedroom you enter the room, you notice a large weekend bag in there and freeze. Shit. Someone's staying over, you hadn't factored that in, but a glance to the tag and the embossed H. E. S tells you you're good. Well, if not you'll just be a creep hiding in someone's bathroom but let's not think about it too much. Your faux confidence was working well so far and what other chance was going to arise like this one? Hot celebrities need fun with strangers too right?

Entering the bathroom you rub the towel over you, leaving mostly dry skin. You'd peel away your bikini if you were definite you wouldn't need to peel it back up your limbs should this plan backfire. You move to the mirror to adjust the black flecks from your minimal makeup dispersing under your eye and just as you're about to smooth down the stray baby hairs that humidity has got to around your face, you see Harry appear in the mirror behind you. Your belly flipping over and over with the thrill he'd took the bait.

Wasting no time he smirks and holds your gaze, wrapping his hands around your waist whilst his lips attach to the junction of your neck and collarbone. His tongue drags over your soft skin and he licks and softly sucks swirls onto it with his plush lips.

"Hm. You're right. This is a more fun type of danger" he says between kisses but before he's even finished his sentence you've spun around in his arms.

The bottom of your spine cold against the marble countertop, arms around his neck as you smash your lips into one another's with urgency. Tongues and wet noises as you get to know one another through your bodies alone.

He runs his hands down your back and presses his hard length against your thigh. He's definitely packing you think as you lift up a little rub your pubic bone against his front, panting out a little moan as the sweet friction of your bodies colliding sends you into overdrive. Catching the noise through your parted lips he gently tugs on the bottom one, teeth grazing the supple flesh. This combined with his large palms kneading your ass and pulling you further, tighter, into the roll of his hips. Only two layers of damp clothing separate you,forcing your lips to break from his mouth and fully moan, not caring who may be around. You could not remember the last time a perfect stranger knew your body quite this well.

His own grunts were speeding up when he suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up beside the sink, you gasp in shock but it was more the way the lean man thrusted you up there like it was nothing. What else could he do? You expect him to go back to kissing you but instead he pulls back with his rock hard erection outlined in the wet shorts he still has on. Looking at you dead in the eyes both raging with lust and concern. Whilst you try not to worry how you were going to accommodate him inside your tight walls.

"Is this…? I mean, you want this too right?" his hands are resting at either side of your parted thighs. You nod. "Need you to say it Y/N" he steps forward, lips wet and brushes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip that was now puffy and pink from the earlier biting. He knew you were down to fuck, but now he wanted to test your preferences. What kind of fun you were about to have shall we say. So when you lick his thumb tip, holding his fist still and grazing your wet tongue up and down from knuckle to tip before closing your eyes and humming around the entire digit, he knew you were both in for a good time.

Removing the thumb he whispers a barely audible "fuck me" before smashing your lips back together, tongues massaging together as he peels your underwear to the side with his hand swiftly and presses digit you'd lubricated with your mouth against your clit, moving it fast from side to side with just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. Gasping, you throw your head back, hands clasped around his neck as you lean back and feel yourself start to leak a little with arousal. The few spots dripping down on to the counter.

You could say it had been a while but really this guy was moving his way round your body in the same way you tune a guitar in key. Calloused fingers applying the right amount of pressure as you felt yourself start to get to the edge already. He was kissing down the front if your chest, between your breasts, not missing a beat when he pushed both triangles of your bikini aside and you moaned loudly as he kissed and sucked hard around your nipple, tentatively pulling it between his teeth firmly, the sound you let out made him clamp a little harder before sucking in the whole nipple again, soothing the skin his tongue. Most likely leaving a mark behind, but you kind of liked the idea of proof he'd been devouring you in all honesty.

You were becoming blissed out from all the stimulation. Clenching and moving your hips around nothing but this magical thumb working your clit up and down hard. You were overcome with this whole situation playing out the way it had. You broke away from his mouth again.

"Oh fuck.. Harry, I'm… FuckFuck I'm going to come, I'm gonna fucking… Ahhh" he pulled back one arm steadying you as your head hit the mirror behind you in your release. He just watched you and slowed his thumb down watching as the liquid cascaded onto the counter.

After you'd come down you open your eyes and shyly smiled before kissing him passionately, his hands moving around your waist tightly. You moved your hand to his shorts, teasingly grazing the outline of his cock between your fingers in hopes of repaying the favour. He does a single throaty laugh and removes your hand, holding himself against his thigh. You look at him in confusion when he splutters,

"Sorry, sorry its just I'm going t'blow my load if you touch me." then he's back on your lips "Too. Fucking. Sexy" he says between wet kisses to your jaw, neck and clavicle. "Wanted to do this since I first set eyes on you" one hand is on the back of his neck twisting nape curls between your fist whilst the other rests behind you, stopping you from hitting your head on the mirror again.

"Oh yeah? Before or after I ruined your clothes?" you laugh teasingly as he slides his hands around your back to finally remove the bikini top properly, lifting it up over your head and tossing it aside somewhere on the floor. He let's a laugh out himself completely entranced still by how natural you are around him, it was often hard to connect with strangers in his position.

"I'd spotted you walking in, was trying to open the door for you m'love" he says before sucking a red mark into your breast and massaging and pulling the other nipple slightly with his hand.

You struggle through sharp intakes of breath for a reply.

"Well….ah...that's what chivalry.. Oh.. Get's you these days I guess" and you're both laughing a little.

"Hmm. Have to try harder with my manners then won't I? I mean, I've got to clear up the mess I've made here" he cups his hand against your pussy rubbing it up and down a little with his palm. You let out a guttural noise at the friction. "Ladies first and all'tha too right?" he giggles again at himself.

You're practically cumming right then, you couldn't remember the last time someone actually went down on you. Your previous boyfriend not particularly into offering you foreplay. A main point of why he didn't stick around too long.

Harry kisses down your abdomen now, soft sloppy, sensual pecks, humming into your skin every so often in appreciation as he works at removing your soaked bikini bottoms with his hands, pushing them down to your knees before you help, letting them fall from the remaining ankle to the ground.

Harry is moving far too slow for you, kissing across each hip down to the top of your slit, breathing over where you desperately need him before paying the other side the same attention. Then he's licking up each crease where your thigh meets your pelvis.

"Y/N, just.. Just turn, that's it and lean back as far as you can there, shuffle forward until can't balance anymore" you shift your ass as forward as possible on the lip of the sink and prop yourself up on your elbows trying to be as flat as possible on the cold counter as you could, your toes behind the sink with one foot the other dangling over the edge. You keep you thighs open as Harry hunches over the counter where you now lay diagonal. He places his arms under your thighs and bends your legs flat out as he can stretch you, you're expecting some more teasing but he just looks down at your pussy licking over his lips and almost whining before burying his tongue inside you immediately. The force of his tongue lapping up your previous climax causes you once again to knock the side of your head against the mirrored wall. You turn and watch the scene almost as a spectator, witnessing yourself bare to this beautiful man, curly brown hair between your fists and making sounds like he's savouring every taste. He catches you watching before taking his mouth off you, immediately, you're whining in protest.

"Watch my eyes not my reflection baby, I'm right here"

His authoritative tone eclipsing every thought you had about the casual nickname, you stared down at the wonderful site of him lapping and suckling on your clit. Pointed tongue and firm laps against the swollen button. He then starts lapping up at your glistening hole,unhooking an arm to spread your lips open between his fingers and licking right from the bottom to the top with all the sloppy wet noises involved. He was feeling you contract as he locked faster and faster over you. His tongue deserved an award never mind his music. You couldn't believe you were on the brink of a second orgasm so quickly but when he sunk his middle finger into you at the same pace his tongue was working at, you were screaming his name into the extractor fan above before you knew it. You felt waves of liquid cascade from your pussy as he gently lapped up the produce of his work from you. You flinched in overstimulation but he cleaned up every last drop tenderly before carefully closing your legs and pivoting you round to your previous sitting up position on the counter. Neither of you had spoken a word since you came but as he leads your arms to drape over your shoulders, holding your fucked out body against his chest whilst peppering your temple with soft pecks . Then he kisses you intensely, letting you taste the sweet juices of yourself on his lips. You hummed in approval of the sweet taste as you came round.

A few minutes of carnal making out and things were heating up again. Your hands cupping his jaw then sliding to graze fingernails up and down his back, digging them in a little harder now and again and causing goosebumps to pierce through the skin rapidly under your touch.

You could feel him swallowing down grunts from the friction he was getting from his shorts covered cock brushing up and down between your slick folds.

He'd made you cum twice. Hard. He always got off of making his partners cum of course, so he was feeling beyond turned on and the slight heat of your glistening folds against his length was almostvsending him over the edge.

"I want you inside me" you whispered against his lips desperately.

No sooner had you said the words, his left hand was frantically searching through the vanities top drawer in hope. Finding a packet, checking the date quickly then tearing it between his teeth, spitting the seal onto the floor and pushing his shorts to his ankles, stepping out of them at speed before kicking them away.

He smirked when he caught your eyes bulge at his cock. He knew it was above average but the reaction was always a further compliment he thought.

Stepping forward he put on a show of putting the condom on, first rubbing the drops of sticky pre cum at the head and down his length keeping his eyes locked to yours as you wriggled on the counter with anticipation. He whined a little as it squeezed him rolling it on, so red and over sensitive from turning you on. So that's why, when you grabbed for it, he stilled your hand. Dimples appearing back in his cheeks as you looked again in confusion. He kisses you, languishing the moment before grabbing you forward from the countertop to the floor again, still keeping your lips attached. He lightly grips at your hips and turns you round to face the mirror once more.

Harry lightly grabs your throat, and the way you whimper and push your ass back against him, makes him mentally bank that idea for later perhaps. He runs his left hand up the column of your neck lightly holding your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him with his hand on your face and the other already working up and down your folds.

"I want you to watch us. Want you to watch yourself come apart. Want to watch you cum around my cock yeah? " he whispers in your ear. You noticeably shiver with excitement of what's to come.

"Please Harry, please, need it, need you."

You watch yourself babble and beg for his cock. The pathetic whimper from yourself as you try and circle your ass into his crotch again to encourage it happening. You were never patient and he's driving you insane here.

Bringing two fingers infront of your lips as you watch yourself in the mirror he looks you dead in the eye through the reflection.

"Spit" so you do, "good girl" he says kissing your cheek. His saliva lubed fingers are back rubbing your clit quickly whilst his knee nudges the back of yours to spread your feet wider as he kisses the back of your neck and shoulders. When he pauses next you're not expecting the hard thrust of him entering you entirely, sure you were dripping wet with the result of two orgasms but you cry out in a mix of stretch and pleasure as he pounds into you at a furious pace. His spare hand not on your clit is holding the bottom of your spine down as he keeps up his rhythm. His pace was that of a man desperate for release after watching you fall apart on his fingers and tongue. The build up meant he was already close as you tight walls fluttered around him. He pleads with you to stop tightening your walls around him or he's not going to last he whimpers.

You were already close again, you'd never cum this many times or this quickly in your life but you were ready for another round and by the sounds of him and the stutter his pace kept slipping you knew he was close too.

You quickly removed his hand, sucking your own fingers into your mouth to replace his own at your clit.

"M'gonna cum, but… OhOh fuck.. But need you harder. Deeper" you manage to get out.

He grunts a curse before squeezing your hips at a pressure that will leave marks tomorrow but the delight in the speed he was now able to snap his hips against the swells of your ass, was well worth it. It only took a few more seconds with the fingers that knew you best, for you to gush against his cock. Feeling absolutely exhausted you slump your sweaty chest onto the cold counter.

His orgasm taking him by surprise when you clenched up to milk him dry. He all but shouts your name as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his cum fill the one barrier between you.

His lips were back on your sweaty neck for a second whilst he disposed of the used condom. He ran the walk in shower and wordlessly you took his offered hand to join him under the hot spray. You'd never had an encounter end like this before not that you were a seasoned professional but after 3 orgasms the way his hands moved round your body under the water, washing away your antics with sweet strawberry-banana smelling suds on the flannel, left you with a warm floaty feeling the worn off alcohol never had.

He gently wipes your makeup from under your eyes then, smiling at the cute way your nose wrinkles slightly as he rubs at each eyebrow.

"I don't even have words" you finally laugh out blushing, not able to stand his gauge as you say it.

"Oh. So that's how to make that smart mouth o'yours stop is it? " he grins, you gasp in mock offense and go to say something but going under your chin with his thumb with his forefinger to connect your lips under the warm water spray he kisses you when you pull away you can't help but ask.

"So does this make us even on one ruined fancy vest then?"

"Hmmmm" he ponders with both hands on your face looking at the ceiling out if the falling water. " I'm not sure, I mean it was a custom, pretty high going rate those yeah"

"Yeahhhh you're right, you're right. Better factor in the cost of the custom job then hadn't I huh?"

You hurriedly sink to your knees on the tiled floor.

[sassyduckqueen]

Miraculous: Rise of Anatis 39

Here's Ikari Gozen! I hope you guys like. I'm really happy with how it came out. Anyway, I thought I'd add a bit of context before I write heroes day, which I hope you guys are looking forward to. I know I am but I should warn you. It will be long. Unlike the previous 'season' finales, it wouldn't be split into two parts and it will also just be called Heroes day instead of Mayura or Catalyst. Also while it's on my mind, I should let you know until season 4 comes out, I will be doing OC Akumas after I've finished with the season 3 stuff. Once season 4 comes out, I will adapt the episodes in this so feel free to suggest OC akumas if you want. If I end up using them, you will get full credit for their existence :D

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Chapter Thirty-Nine: Ikari Gozen

"Hey buddies. As you know, friendship day is officially here," Mireille stated, on the tv as Marinette and the girls glanced at the TV in her room. Aurora was stood next to her and the two girls were smiling. Their friendship had come along way since Stormy Weather's first appearance. Marinette had seen them hanging out around school and had heard from Luka how they were in class. Aurora didn't actually blame Mireille for losing the contest and becoming Stormy Weather. As it turned out, the reason why was because the hose, Alec, had rubbed salt into the wound so to speak and had embarrassed her which in turn had upset her and caused her to become stormy weather but that was then and this is now. Now meant friendship day, an event Marinette was really excited for.

 "Today, hundreds of amazing, new friendships will be created all over Paris," Aurora grinned, before turning to Mireille. "Right, Mireille?"

 "You got it, Aurora," She smiled back at her before facing the camera. "Once again, buddies, you and your secret new friend... picked at random... will go on an exciting new journey across Paris, searching for a hidden celebrity,"

 "And this time, our secret celebrity is none other then the muse of Gabriel Brand. The one and only Adrien Agreste!" Aurora declared, gesturing to him as the camera panned out to reveal him. He smiled and waved at the camera.

 "Hello," He smiled, causing the girls to grin excitedly.

 "This is gonna be great," Marinette grinned before her eyes went wide. "Oh no! What if I forgot to sign up like last year?!"

 "Relax, girl," Alya grinned, taking out a pin and placing it on her jacket. "I know what you're like so as your amazing BFF I made sure to sign you up so everything is gonna be just fine,"

 "Thank you, Alya," Marinette gasped, hugging her. Rose suddenly let out a squeal, causing everyone to look at the screen as she pointed at it excitedly.

 "Here we go!!" She gasped as she clapped her hangs. "It's starting!!" 

 "Let me recap for our buddies here," Mireille stated, lifting a tablet that Adrien was holding. It had a red button on it. "When Adrien pushes this button, thousands of texts will be simultaneously sent all across Paris. In the message, you will find a first riddle to solve, which will eventually lead you to your new friend. Then together, you will attempt to solve more riddles which if done correctly will lead you straight to Adrien,"

 "Right here in this super secret location where I'll be waiting for the lucky winners," Adrien declared, pointing at the camera before he held up the tablet as Mireille and Aurora joined him. "Ready?"

 "Three! Two! One!" They counted down together before Adrien pressed the button, turning it green. "Go!!"

The girls all gasped as their phones vibrated, causing them to open the text. Alya was the first to rush off as reading hers and declaring where it would be. She wished everyone else luck and headed down the stairs. Rose was next, heading towards the zoo and was followed by Alix, who was going to the Louvre. Juleka mumbled before gasping and leaving shortly after Alix. Marinette looked down at hers and decided to read it out loud.

 "With one turn of a handle, I can raise the level..." She muttered, frowning before sighing and slagging her shoulders. "What evil mind came up with this one?!"

 She began to pace around her room as Plagg flew out of his hiding place. 

 "If you ask me, this game is a waste of time," He grinned, making her shake her head. "Unless your new friend will have cheese,"

 "Plagg, I'm trying to work out the riddle," She muttered, shaking her head. "With one turn of a handle, I can raise the level... game shop maybe... or maybe it's something else... hmm... game shop does seem too obvious for the answer... oh..."

 She took out her phone as it vibrated and saw Luka had sent her a video. She pressed play to watch it.

 "Hey, Melody. Just wanted to wish you good luck in the friendship day game," He smiled as he was stood by the Seine. She smiled a little as she noticed the button on his jacket. He was playing the game too. "Just about to solve the riddle I got. Not sure if I'll win but this should be fun anyway. I hope you have fun too,"

 The video stopped playing, making her smile before she went to make her own.

 "Hey, Lu," She grinned, waving at the phone. "Just got my first riddle too. Honestly, can't wait to see who I met. Once I actually solve it that is. Mine's pretty difficu- ohhh! The Seine! Of course, water! That makes sense. I think I just solved it, thanks to you!! Thanks, Lu!! Good luck as well!!"

 She stopped filming and sent the message before grabbing her purse and opening it for Plagg, who flew in.

 "You solved it then?"

 "Yup!" She grinned before running out the house and made her way to the Canal Saint-Martin. She grinned to herself when she got there, causing Plagg to poke his head out and look around. "Here we are! 'With one turn of a handle, I can raise the Level'... Ta da!! It's Canal Saint-Martin!! The water rises when the locks are open with the handle,"

 "Meh..." Plagg shrugged, making her giggle.

 "You're a little terror," She muttered, shaking her head before looking around. "Now, I just need to keep my eyes peeled. Hopefully, my new friend is here somewhere,"

 "New friends are overrated," Plagg stated, causing her to shake her head. "Now if this was a game to find sweet, gooey cheese... then I'd play..."

 "That's because you're basically a talking stomach," She smiled, gently patting his head. Plagg grinned and purred a little. "I'll get you some nice cheesy snacks when we've finished today,"

 "I can't wait!" He grinned, making her smile a little as they looked around. He tapped her leg, making her look at him. "Isn't that Adrien's girlfriend, Kagami?"

 She looked over and saw Kagami stood by a red car before it drove off. She was looking around like she was looking for someone. Marinette grinned and ran over as Plagg ducked into her purse.

 "Kagami!!" She called out, making the girl look at her as she raced over. "Hey, I think you're my new friend,"

 "So it would seem, Marinette," She replied before moving her mouth in a strange way that showed off her teeth. It unnerved Marinette slightly but she shook it off for now. "It is nice to see you again,"

 "Likewise," She smiled as their phones vibrated. "Ooh, the next riddle!!"

 She pressed the message, causing a new riddle to come up.

 "Congratulations, you have located your game partner and who knows... maybe even a friend for life," The automated voice stated as the two girls looked at their phone. "You've just received the second riddle,"

 "To get closer to your goal, you must explore farther and deeper," Marinette read out as Kagami made a thoughtful face. Marinette frowned a little. "Do you think it means to go onto the metro? That's underground so that counts as deeper right?"

 "Hmm... no, explore farther and deeper means we have to go farther along the banks of the Seine, which is deeper then this canal," Kagami explained, causing Marinette to look at her with a little awe. That did make sense. "We'll probably have to fish for our next clue. Come on, Marinette, let's hurry up and win,"

 "Ok," Marinette nodded, following her as she headed towards the Seine. Her phone vibrated twice, causing her to look at it and smile as she saw she got video messages from Alya and Luka. She opened Alya's first and smiled as she introduced Wayhem before pausing to do a reply.

 "Hey, I've got Kagami for my friend. I'm really excited to get to know her," She smiled before sending it then opening Luka's. 

 "Look who I found," He smiled before moving the camera to Chloe who was looking at her nails. "Chloe decided to join in as well,"

 "Is that to Marinette?" She asked, causing him to nod before she moved over and wave. "Hey, Marinette! Just so you know I may be nice now but I'm totally gonna win this! I mean we're gonna win this. Right, Luka?"

 "We'll try but even if we don't win, we can still have fun," He grinned, causing her to roll her eyes but she was also smiling. "I hope you're having fun with your new friend, Melody,"

 "Oh come on, you dork. We have to find the next clue," Chloe grinned as he waved at the camera before the video stopped. Marinette smiled and set up the camera again.

 "Hey, Lu. I found my partner and it's Kagami. She's really smart and has solved the first clue already," She grinned before pointing at the camera. "And Chloe, it is totally on! Maybe the best girl win!"

 She grinned and winked before sending the video before running to catch up with Kagami, who had found a magnet and fishing rod on one of the bridges.

 "Look, we were right," Kagami stated as she step up the fishing rod, causing Marinette to blink in surprise. "We have to fish out the next clue using this fishing rod and magnet. Here,"

 She grabbed Marinette and pulled her over, placing the fishing rod in her hands and securing her hands around. Marinette blinked and when with it as Kagami moved her so she was stood with the rod over the edge before she pushed it down.

 "Now fish," She ordered, causing Marinette to blink and reel up the first item she got, which was a rusted whistle. She showed Kagami who pulled it off and threw it in the box. "Probably not the clue,"

 Marinette nodded and lowered the magnet again, glancing to the side when she heard a phone notification. Kagami briefly looked at it before facing her again.

 "Do you prefer to be known by your whole name or a nickname?" She asked before doing that weird thing with her mouth again, unsettling Marinette.

 "Uh... by... my whole name..." She mumbled back, reeling the magnet back up. A rusted saucepan was connected to it. "Though Luka calls me melody and I don't mind that..."

 "Thank you, Marinette," Kagami nodded, ignoring the comment about Luka's nickname for her. She looked at her phone again before facing Marinette again. "Uh... your hair is very shiny,"

 She didn't the funny thing with her face again before taking the saucepan as Marinette looked at her with confusion and a little fear. Her comment made her wonder if her hair was greasy and gross, even though she took a shower earlier that morning.

 "Uh... thank you?" She asked, unsure how to react to her comment. "Uh... your hair is not too bad either..."

 Kagami threw the pan into the back and then looked at her phone again as Marinette threw the fishing line again. Marinette frowned a little and tried to glance over.

 "What is your blood type?" Kagami asked before once again doing the strange action with her face. Marinette blinked, feeling really uncomfortable as she felt like that maybe Kagami was messing with her and teasing her.

 "My blood type? I don't know..." She replied defensively as she glanced to the floor a little before frowning. "Are you messing with me?"

 "No, not at all," Kagami replied in an emotionless way. "Everyone in Japan knows their blood type. It tells you who you are,"

 She turned and faced the water as Marinette reeled in the line again.

 "Mine's O," She continued, making Marinette look at her as she pulled up an old skate. "Which means I'm independent, optimistic, strong-willed and intuitive,"

 Marinette frowned a little as she lowered the line again before noticing Kagami glance at her phone again. She tried to look over but Kagami faced her again with a serious expression.

 "What's your favorite season?" She suddenly asked, making Marinette jump a little as she did the face action again.

 "Summer, cause it's nice and hot... or spring! Because that's when Nature awakens," Marinette gasped a little excited. Kagami finally asked a question that was weird or invasive and was actually kind of normal. "Or maybe the Fall... the colors are so gorgeous at that time of year... but then again, winter inspires me so much,"

 "You're indecisive, scattered brain and irresponsible. You have a split personality. Typical AB," Kagami stated, making Marinette frown before she did the strange movement with her face. Marinette went to say something but saw she was looking at her phone again before she looked back at her. "Let's say you found out about some special chocolate ice cream. You really want to try it but someone else gets there first. Do you... A) Steal it from them?"

 Marinette gave her a confused and offended look.

 "B) Get another type of chocolate ice cream even if it's not as good," She continued, confusing Marinette. "Or C) Never eat chocolate ice cream again?"

 She moved her mouth again as Marinette blinked.

 "Um I guess I would try another flavor?" She asked, making Kagami narrow her eyes again before she looked at her phone again. Marinette frowned deeply but felt something heavy on the wire. She reeled it up and grabbed the plot as Kagami looked back at her. "Would you like to grab an orange juice with me?"

 "N-Now? I mean sure but we're in the middle of the game?" She gasped, making Kagami look at the pot in her hand. She took it out her hand and took out the bottle before placing the pan down before looking up at Marinette.

 "The clue... you've done a great job fishing," She replied, giving her a creepy grin as she slowly patted her shoulder. Marinette wasn't sure how to react. "Congratulations, Marinette. First, we win then we get orange juice to celebrate,"

 "Oh... right... that makes sense," Marinette nodded, following her as she walked off. The rest of the clue went on the lines of that. They would work together to find the clues but Kagami would ask strange questions and act weird. She would make strange faces and state Marinette's flaws, causing Marinette to frown and feel like Kagami didn't like her. She would also constantly look to her phone, like she was messaging someone and checking the time. It gave Marinette the impression that she didn't want to even be here, which made her wonder. If she didn't want to be in this game, why join? It made no sense. Marinette frowned to herself as they came to the next clue. She was sure that Kagami was messaging Adrien to laugh at her. Sure, they were solving the clues but Kagami clearly didn't like her or want to be friends so she had to be laughing at her. Her phone vibrated, causing her to look at it as Luka and Alya send her messages. She opened Luka's first.

 "Well, maybe she is trying to get to know you," He replied, making her frown a little. "But if it's making you really that uncomfortable, you should tell her. I'm sure she would understand,"

 She pressed record and held it up to her.

 "I don't know, Lu," She sighed, looking down. "She keeps looking at her phone. I think she's texting Adrien and they're both probably laughing at me. Honestly, Lu, I don't think she likes me at all,"

 She pressed end and send it before opening Alya's.

 "Girl, don't let it get to you," She grinned as Wayhem grabbed the next clue. "Just focus on winning. After all, Adrien is the prize,"

 Marinette let out a sigh before pressing the reply button and holding up the phone.

 "Which is great but he won't notice me," She sighed. It's not like she could tell Alya that Kagami and Adrien were dating. She only knew that info as Lady Noir after all. "As soon as he sees her, he'll ignore me... they're really close and I think he likes her a lot... not that I blame him... she's pretty and smart,"

 She sent the video before walking over a bench and sat down as Kagami read over the next challenge. She walked over to her, causing Marinette to look up at her.

 "Trust challenge," She read out. "Exchange unlocked phones. Separate and take a selfie at different monuments, using each others' phones then regroup and take a selfie together like the true friends you've become. Once we've received the selfies, we'll send you a final text revealing where Adrien Agreste is hiding,"

 She held out her phone, causing Marinette to glance at it.

 "I don't know, Kagami..." She mumbled, causing Kagami to shake her head and take her phone before she pushed her own phone into Marinette's hand.

 "You really are an indecisive girl," She declared before beginning to run off. She stopped and face Marinette again. "We'll meet back here once we're done. We're gonna win!"

 With that, she ran off, leaving Marinette in the dust. She got up and made her way over some trees before sighing. Plagg poked his head out of her bag and looked up at her.

 "If you're that bothered, why don't you just look through her phone?" He asked, making her look at him. "What? At least, that way you'll know for sure if she was laughing at you,"

 "Plagg, the point of this excise is trust," She pointed out, making him grin.

 "That trust is only broken if she knows you when through it," He pointed out, making her frown. "So have a sneak then take the selfie and meet back up with her. It's not like she's going to check for fingerprints,"

 "I don't know," She mumbled, frowning. "It feels wrong..."

 "So does her laughing at you," Plagg pointed out, making her frown even more. On one hand, it is wrong to going through her phone but on the other, this would allow her to know how much Kagami does dislike her. "What you got to lost, Dollface?"

 She bit her lip and pressed the messages button, frown as she saw that Kagami only had messages from the contest. Thinking that maybe she managed to delete them before the phone swap, she checked her contacts. To her surprise, she only had her mother's contact in there, making her frown. She exited the contact list and swiped across the screen, finding another app. She didn't recognize it so she pressed on it and gasped, making Plagg look up at her.

 "Oh, shoot," She gasped, placing her hand over her mouth. "This is what she was looking at all this time,"

 "What is it?" He asked, making her show him. "30 tips for making friends..."

 "That explains everything. Her strange behavior. Her weird questions. She was trying to be my friend," She gasped, looking down. "She wasn't messing with me at all. She was trying to get to know me and that weird thing she was doing with her mouth was her attempting to smile,"

 "Well, at least, she wasn't laughing at you,"

 "But now I feel so bad," She gasped, frowning before straightening up. "Maybe there is still time to fix this! We can win this and get orange juice together,"

 "Eh... cheese is better..." Plagg replied, diving into her bag again as she ran towards the nearest monument which happened to be the Statue of King Louis XIV. She quickly took a selfie with the phone before running back to the bench that she would meet Kagami at. She frowned as she saw Kagami walking back over to her. She was frowning and handed her phone back to her, confusing Marinette.

 "I guess I'm not worthy of our friendship," She stated, looking down before she began to walk away. "Our blood types must not be compatible,"

 "Kagami, wait!" Marinette gasped, running after her. Kagami stopped and looked at her, frowning.

 "I saw your friend's message. I didn't mean to but it played," She frowned, making Marinette frown. "She suggested that you should quit the game since you don't like me,"

 "What?" She asked, confused before shaking her head. "Kagami, it's not that I don't like you. I thought you didn't like me,"

 "It doesn't matter anyway," She mumbled, walking away again but before Marinette could chase after her, one of the phone's vibrated. She looked at it and noticed it was Kagami's mother. She pressed answer and held it to her ear.

 "Hello?"

 "Kagami! Where are you?!" Her mother shouted, making Marinette jump. "You were suppose to wait for me at home!"

 "Um... Hello ma'am, I'm not Kagami actually," Marinette gasped, causing her to demand who she was and where Kagami was. Marinette jogged over to her as she called out to her, causing Kagami to look at her. "Um I'm a friend of Kagami's. I'm with her and can put her on the phone,"

 "Kagami doesn't have any friends!" She growled, making Marinette frown as Kagami signaled to give her the phone. " "Why do you have her phone?"

 "Oh, I can assume you, Ma'am, I am Kagami's friend," Marinette corrected, causing Kagami to look at her in surprise. "In fact, we teamed up for a game,"

 "A game?!" She growled, making Marinette gasp. "But I fobade her!"

 "G-Game? Did I say game? I meant a grab... uh... to grab..." She gasped. "I invited Kagami to grab an orange juice with me,"

 Kagami's features softened as she watched Marinette try to calm down her mother. Even though she knew it wouldn't work, she appreciate the attempt.

 "She'll be home soon I promise," She gasped as Kagami smiled. "I'll even walk her home myself,"

 "Stop fooling around, young lady and put my daughter through!" Tomoe demanded, making Marinette frown even more. "I can assure you that Kagami will not be enjoying any glasses of-"

 "Ma'am, please don't punish your daughter," She gasped as Tomoe went quiet. "Ma'am? Hello?"

 Kagami frowned as Marinette glanced at her before Tomoe said something that send a shiver down her spine.

 "With pleasure, Hawkmoth," She declared, causing Marinette to gasp. She quickly turned to Kagami and placed the phone in her hand before grabbing her hand and running.

 "I'm so sorry, Kagami. I tried to smooth things over with your mum but now she's super angry and will be looking for you," She gasped as they ran. "We should hid somewhere far from here I think,"

 She took her phone and activated the akuma alert app as they ran. Literally, minutes after, they heard distance screaming before a huge red centaur jumped towards them, causing them to go fly. Marinette wasted no time and pull Kagami to her feet before running as fast as they could.

 "Kagami!" It screamed as it began to chase them, causing Kagami to gasp in shock and trip, letting go of Marinette's hand. "You disobeyed me! You'll never go out again!"

 She went to reach for her but before she could, Marinette pushed her down before helping her back up and running behind the centaur. Kagami looked surprise but didn't complain as they ran. The centaur turned around and jumped, landing in front of them, causing both girls to scream and jump back as she reached for them again. She growled and stomped her feet, causing them to fall down and reached for them. However, a yoyo string wrapped around her hand as Anatis arrived, yanking it back so Kagami was far from her mother's grip. Marinette rushed over to her and helped her up as Anatis turned to them.

 "Get away from here!" He shouted, jumping away from the centaur. Marinette nodded and ran with Kagami as Anatis kept her busy, throwing his yoyo at her. "You know today is suppose to be friendship day but if you ask me, you're going all the wrong way about it!"

 "I don't need friends! I am Ikari Gozen! As elusive as the wind, as powerful as the flood and as swift as lightning!" Ikari Gozen screamed as he jumped up. However, she backhanded him, sending him flying and crashing into a statue but before he could get up, she grabbed him, causing him to struggle. Marinette gasped as the centaur opened her mouth and swallowed him. Her eyes widen as she called out for him but Kagami suddenly grabbed her arm and ran underneath her mother's legs and into the metro station, running down the stairs with her. She didn't stop until they were deep in the station, causing Marinette to gasp. 

 "Marinette, are you ok?" She asked, causing her to look at her.

 "Anatis... he's..." She muttered, shaking her head. "Kagami, stay here,"

 She turned on her heel to run but Kagami grabbed her arm.

 "If you go out, you might get captured,"

 "Someone needs to flag down Lady Noir," Marinette gasped, making Kagami frown but nod. "I promise I'll be careful but please stay here,"

 She nodded and ran off. As soon as she was out of view from people, she opened her purse and Plagg flew out.

 "Anatis has been captured!" She gasped, making him frown.

 "We need to go to Master Fu right now," He declared, making her blink in surprise before she nodded. Anatis told her about him for this very reason. She slipped up from the stairs and saw Ikari Gozen looking around for Kagami. Seeing her chance, she made her way to a building and looked to Plagg. 

 "How do we get there?" She asked, making him frown. "Hey, I've only been there a couple of times and that was by rooftop,"

 "Good point," Plagg stated before flying off. "Follow me!"

 She nodded and ran after him, trying to go as fast as she could. Plagg did his best to get her there quickly as well, meaning they took what could be called an ally cat's route but it got them there. She rang the door bell and got buzzed in before she rushed up into Master Fu's shop. She knocked on the door and entered.

 "Come in," He stated as she entered. "I expected you would- Marinette?"

 "I'm sorry, Master Fu but the akuma Ikari Gozen has captured Anatis and Plagg said we should come here and I don't know what to do!" She gasped, tears in her eyes. She was afraid and worried for her partner. "What if she gets his miraculous and hurts him? Oh, god this is all my fault! I should have just tried to trust Kagami and-"

 "Take deep breathes, Marinette," Master Fu stated, causing her to nod and breathe in as he got her to knee down. "All is not lost. You can save Anatis but you will need help,"

 He walked over to the phonograph and took out the miracle box, placing it in front of her.

 "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, choose an ally to fight along side you this mission," He declared, opening the miracle box, causing the draws to pop open. She gasped in amazement as she saw the miraculous, glancing at them. She knew what some of them did thanks to Anatis and their allies. He had also informed her about some of the abilities but she didn't know as much as he did. "Choose wisely. Such powers are meant to serve the greater good,"

 "I need an experienced user... someone who can match Ikari Gozen's ability..." She muttered, frowning. "Someone as elusive as the wind, as powerful as the flood and as swift as lightning... oh... I know... but..."

 "Trust your instincts, Marinette," Master Fu advised, making her look at him. "If they tell you that the miraculous you have in mind is the right one then choose it,"

 "In that case," She smiled, picking up the dragon miraculous. "It's time for Ryuko to come out of retirement,"

 "Ryuko is a good choice," Master Fu nodded. "I'm sure she will be a great help,"

 "Thank you, Master Fu," She nodded, turning to leave but he got up and opened a draw before taking out a little hexagon shaped box and handing it to her. "Oh so that's where those are kept,"

 She placed inside and put it in her purse before rushing out. As soon as she was in the allyway, she turned to Plagg. 

 "Time to find Kagami and rescue Annie," She grinned before holding out her hand and calling on the magic words. Once transformed into Lady Noir, she jumped up onto the rooftops and ran across to the metro where Kagami should be. She jumped down inside and rushed over, causing people to gasp and point. She saw Kagami sat on a bench, looking down. She ran over to her, causing her to jump up.

 "Lady Noir," She gasped. "Anatis-"

 "I know but we need to get you to a safety hiding place," She replied, grabbing her hand and running off with her. They moved up onto the street and looked around before rushing over to an allyway, causing Kagami to look around as Lady Noir faced her. "Sorry but as you know secret identities must be protected,"

 "Secret identity? But I'm not Ryuko anyway," She stated before blinking as Lady Noir reached out into her pocket and took out the box. Kagami blinked in surprise as she stated at it. "Is that?"

 "Yes. I need your help to save Anatis and what better way to hide Kagami then in plain sight," She replied, causing Kagami to nod. She opened the box, causing Longg to appear. He frowned and huffed, refusing to meet Kagami's eyes. "Uh... Longg, is it?"

 "Yes, Miss Noir," He replied, looking around. "Where's the young master?"

 "He's been captured by the akuma, " Lady Noir admitted, causing him to gasp. "Which is why I need you to put aside any hard feelings with Kagami,"

 "Of course, Miss Noir," He nodded before turning to her. "Well, what are you waiting for, Tsurugi-san? You know the magic words,"

 Kagami frowned but put the choke on as Lady Noir frowned.

 "Longg, bring the storm!" Kagami declared, transforming into Ryuko before turning to Lady Noir and taking out her sword. "Thank you for the miraculous, Lady Noir but I'll take it from here. Stay behind as this is a personal matter between a mother and a daughter,"

 "What?!" Lady Noir gasped as Ryuko jumped off. "Hey! That's not how this works!"

 She jumped after her as Ryuko blindly attacked Ikari Gozen, making Lady Noir frown. 

 "God, she is so stubborn!" She growled as Ryuko clashed against her mother. She took a deep breathe and looked around as Ikari Gozen grabbed Ryuko. "What would Anatis do?"

 "Wind dragon!" Ryuko called, transforming into her to escape her room before diving at her. "Lightning dragon!"

 "What?! No!" Lady Noir called, jumping up and diving at her. She grabbed her before she could hit Ikari Gozen, causing both her and Ryuko to fall and roll behind a bus before dragging Ryuko to behind a wall as Ikari Gozen turned to look for Kagami. Ryuko pushed her away and growled.

 "What the hell, Lady Noir?!" She gasped. "I was just able to defeat her!"

 "No, you were about to put Annie in more danger then he's already in!" Lady Noir gasped, making Ryuko roll her eyes. She went to run off but Lady Noir snatched the choker off her, causing her to look at her with surprise as she transformed back. She narrowed her eyes and held out her hand.

 "Give it back," She declared.

 "No! You are going to listen to me for once!" Lady Noir growled as Longg nodded and glared at Kagami, who looked surprise at the harsh look she was getting. "I trusted you and you just run off without even listening to me! You just wasted two of your abilities and almost put Anatis' life in danger!"

 "Oh, the suit would have-"

 "That thing is made from metal and you were able to hit it with lightening! We don't know if the suit would protect him but that is not the point. The point is you are willing to put him in danger, despite the fact that he is the only person who can fix this!" She screamed, causing Kagami to blink in surprise. "You are reckless and impulsive! I didn't give you this to settle a score but to help me save my best friend and you just rush off!"

 "Well, it's not like you have a plan,"

 "Because I haven't had a chance to work one out!" She growled, making Kagami frown before she took a deep breathe. "I get that you want to save your mum but endangering everyone else is not the way to do it,"

 Kagami sighed and looked down, clearly looking guilty. For a few minute, she was quiet as Lady Noir gave Longg some cheese to recharge. 

 "I behaved hastily and I have failed you and Anatis, Lady Noir," She muttered, causing Lady Noir to look towards her as she bowed towards her. "I am not worthy of the dragon or to fight by your side. I recommend that you find a new holder,"

 "Kagami, listen to me. Been impulsive can be a good thing but you've gotten be clever and listen to other people. One of the things that makes me and Anatis such a good team is because we listen to each other and work as a team," She replied, causing Kagami to nod. "Yes, you've made mistakes but that's not a reason to give up fighting. You're a good match for the dragon, Kagami but we must work as a team. Only you can help me save your mother and Annie so please, work with me as my friend and ally,"

 "Lady Noir..." She whispered before bowing again. "I have clearly misjudged you as I misjudged Anatis. I will follow your lead and help you in any way I can,"

 "I'm glad," Lady Noir smiled. "Longg, you all charged?"

 "Yes, I am," He replied, turning to Kagami, who looked guilty and like she wanted to say something. Lady Noir had a feeling she knew what.

 "Longg..."

 "We can talk after we've defeated the villain," He stated, making her nod and re-transformed. Lady Noir blinked in surprise as she looked at her. Like Aspik, Ryuko's outfit had changed but unlike Aspik's, the changes in hers were small and subtle. Her gloves were still the same length but one side had an upright triangle in gold whereas the other one was inverted. Her main outfit was the same but her right leg had a thigh high boot on with a gold trim and her leg had an ankle boot that turned into the dragon tail that wrapped up her leg and stomach. Her emblem was on her belt instead of the middle of her chest. She still had four horns but they were slightly different to the original ones. They had a black strip in the middle with two gold bands around them while the rest were red. Even her mask had changed. Originally it was most red with a bit of gold and black detail but now it was half black and half red with a gold trim. She looked over herself and smiled.

 "Ready when you are, Lady Noir," She replied, getting a nod of Lady Noir before the two of them looked over at Ikari Gozen, who was tearing up buildings and crushing cars. The two heroines frowned as they moved back. "She's really on a war path. Do you have any ideas?"

 "Well... I have an idea..." She mumbled, making Ryuko raise an eyebrow as she took out her baton and used it to call Anatis' yoyo. He answered, causing both girls to let out a sigh of relief. He was still transformed and ok.

 "Is that Ryuko?" He asked with a slightly confused expression, causing Ryuko to wave a little.

 "Sorry but you got captured and I had to do something..." She mumbled, looking down. Of course, he would be mad. "Don't be mad..."

 "Mad? Why would I be mad?" He asked, generally confused before shaking his head. "Anyway, I'm glad to see you're ok. I was worried she had crushed you... though how did you know I was captured?"

 "Uh... live streaming..." 

 "Yes, almost everyone is filming and there is a live feed on the ladyblog," Ryuko nodded, making him pull a thinking face before nodding. "Any idea where the akuma is?"

 "I don't think it's anywhere inside her but she was holding a huge stick..."

 "It's called a Bokken, Annie," Lady Noir giggled, making him roll his eyes in a playful manner.

 "Anyway, I think that's where the akuma is... it seems to be the most logical place for it to land," He mumbled, making the two girls nod. 

 "I can destroy it but first we need to get you out of there," Lady Noir mumbled before looking back at him. "Have you summoned a lucky charm yet?"

 "No, I didn't want to risk turning back into my civilian mode and risking Hawkmoth finding out who I am," He mumbled, looking worried. The two girls nodded. "But I'll get one now... hang on..."

 The screen went dark as before he came back on. 

 "Bath bombs... I got bath bombs..." He mumbled, shaking his head as he showed them. Lady Noir covered her mouth as she tried not to giggle. Tikki had a weird sense of humor. He glared a little at Lady Noir before glancing around. "Nothing here is lighting up..."

 "Bath bombs?" Ryuko asked as Lady Noir straightened up.

 "Maybe Tikki is telling you to get a bath?" She asked, smirking a little. He rose an eyebrow at her, causing her to shrug a little. "Just saying..."

 "Well... knowing Tikki it's a possibility but they're useless without water," He sighed, looking around. He was still trying to work out how to use them. "And this is a frigging car.... I'm sure of it so it's not going to have a water source in here,"

 "Water..." Lady Noir muttered as she looked up at Ikari Gozen before glancing over at Ryuko. Her eyes went wide as an idea popped into her head. "Oooh... I know what we can do with those bath bombs! Annie, hold on tight! We're gonna get you out,"

 "Alright," He grinned before she hung up and turned to Ryuko.

 "What's the plan?"

 "You're gonna get eaten!" Lady Noir grinned, making Ryuko frown. "Then once you're inside with Annie and the lucky charm, activate water dragon. It will flood her from the inside and-"

 "Activate the bath bombs which should cause her to weaken!" Ryuko gasped, causing Lady Noir to grin. "Anatis can then escape, you can destroy her bokken and we save the day,"

 "Exactly," She grinned as they looked at Ikari Gozen again. "Go full on attack but let her capture you,"

 "Alright," Ryuko nodded before she rushed out and attacked Ikari Gozen, striking at her as Lady Noir pretended to sneak up on her. Ikari Gozen caught her and went to grab her, causing Ryuko to push her out of the way and get grabbed instead. She went a wink to Lady Noir before Ikari Gozen swallowed her and turned to Lady Noir.

 "I guess I'm the Last hero standing," She grinned, taking out her baton and holding it like a sword.

 "And you shall fall like the others," Ikari Gozen replied, charging at her while inside her, Ryuko landed on the seat next to Anatis, who rose an eyebrow at her as she grinned before she turned to him.

 "Hold your breathe, bug boy," She grinned, making Anatis grin as he realized the plan. "Water Dragon!!"

 She burst into water that began to fill up the area they were in and break down the bathbombs as Anatis grabbed the box that they came in and took a deep breathe before the water covered his head. He felt the akuma shake and jolt before, feeling the water move upwards as she gagged and puked up some of the water with him. He landed on the ground as Ikari Gozen fell onto her side before Lady Noir jumped over as he took the yo

 "Cataclysm!" She shouted, slamming her hand onto the bokken, causing it to rush. He kicked it, releasing the butterfly and capturing it as Ryuko reformed from the water. He released the purified butterfly before he threw up the now wet box.

 "Miraculous Ladybugs!" He shouted, causing it to burst into the magical swarm that flew around and fixed all of the damage that Ikari Gozen had done, causing both girls to let out a sigh of relief as Ikari Gozen turned back into Tomoe and her car. Anatis pointed at it as the door opened and Tomoe stepped out, leaning on her stick. "I knew it was a car!"

 "What's happened to me? Where is Kagami?!" She gasped, causing Ryuko to walk over and take her hand, causing the blind woman to gasp.

 "Your daughter is near by, Ma'am," She stated. "She'll be here soon,"

 "Ryuko... time to go," Anatis declared before the three of them jumped up to the roofs and ran off. They jumped down into an allyway.

 "Before I transform back... I need to talk to Longg..." Ryuko stated, causing Anatis and Lady Noir to nod and move away to her some privacy. She called off the transformation as Anatis leaned against the wall. Lady Noir played with her braid and bit her lip, causing him to look at her.

 "Kitten?" He asked, causing her to look at him. "You ok?"

 "I... I know you're probably mad at me for get-" She started but he chuckled a little and pushed himself off the wall before moving over to her as she looked up at him before he leaned down and gently pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "Um..."

 "That's for saving me, Kitten," He smiled, making her face exploding into red. "I'm not mad at all. What happened today is the exact reason why I revealed Master Fu's existence and location to you. I trusted you to save me and you did,"

 "But I choose Ryuko..." She mumbled, looking down. "And we almost failed,"

 "But you didn't," He mumbled, gently lifting her chin up. "I don't know how you nearly failed but what I do know is you overcame it and found a solution.... and it seemed that Ryuko has grown as a person too if her new costume is anything to go by. You made the right call, Kitten and I'm proud of you,"

 "Annie," She gasped, hugging him. He chuckled a little before hugging her back as Kagami came back over with Longg. Lady Noir pulled away, looking at them. Kagami looked to Longg, who gave her a smile and a nod before she faced the two heroes and bowed to them, making them both blink.

 "I apologize for my earlier behavior towards both of you. I was reckless and petty so I apologize..." She stated, making them blink before she straightened up. "And I thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself. As you know I am not one for many words but I tell you this. You have my allegiance, my respect and my trust. I understand that you might not be able to give me the same in return but I hope that I can continue to build a friendship with both of you. Should you ever need my help again, I will drop what ever I need to and help you as best I can,"

 "Thank you, Ryuko... That means a lot," Anatis smiled before looking to Longg. "Have you two made your peace?"

 "Yes but we have a long way to go, young master," Longg replied, causing Anatis to nod before Kagami took off the choker and handed it to him. However, he glanced at Lady Noir and smiled at her. Encouraged, she took the necklace and placed it back in the box. 

 "I should return to Mother and Marinette but thank you both," Kagami smiled before walking off. Anatis turned to Lady Noir as she held out the miraculous to him and gently pushed it towards her, making her blink at him.

 "I think it will be ok to for you to return it,"

 "But won't Master Fu be worried about you?"

 "I'll drop by his later tonight. Besides..." He mumbled, pointing to his earrings that beeped. Her ring beeped as well, causing her to look down at it. They still had a couple of minutes left til they de-transform but not to get across to the other side of Paris. "Can't let the cat out of the bag just yet, Kitten,"

 She nodded in agreement as he took out his yoyo and swung up to the roof. He smiled at her and saluted her before disappearing. She looked down at the miraculous before nodding and jumping up to the roof before running across it to get to Master Fu's. She jumped down and landed in an allyway, just as her transformation dropped. She caught Plagg and took out a chuck of cheese for him, causing him to happily dig into it as they headed into Master Fu's apartment. She knocked on the door and waited for permission to come in. Once he called out, she opened the door and entered, smiling at him as she saw he was making tea. 

 "Ah, Marinette, you have returned," He smiled, walking over to her and giving her a cup of tea. The smell of jasmine drifted up from it, making her smile before she gently blew on it and took a sip. It was the right amount of sweet for her, making her grin. "I take it the mission went well,"

 "Yes, Master Fu," She nodded before taking another sip. She put it down for a second and took out the miraculous as Master Fu took out the miracle box and opened it. She put the dragon back and watched as he returned it. "Anatis said he would drop by later tonight but he thought I should be the one to bring it back to you. I hope you don't mind,"

 "Not at all," He smiled, sipping the tea. "Did Kagami do well?"

 "Well, there was a little hiccup at first but we took down Ikari Gozen with panache," She smiled, making him nod before her eyes went wide. "Kagami! Oh no! It's still friendship day! Sorry, Master, I have to go!"

 She jumped up, making him smile. He had never meant anyone like Marinette or Luka. Both were perfect matches for their miraculous. He created his throat before she could leave, causing her to look back at him.

 "You did very well today, Marinette," He smiled, making her smile before he walked over to her. "And should you need anything be it miraculous related or not, my door is always open to you as it is to Anatis,"

 "Thank you, Master!" She gasped, bowing before rushing out. He chuckled as Wayzz came out.

 "She is very energetic," He muttered, making the old man chuckle. "Do you think they realize they are made for each other?"

 "Love is the biggest mystery of life," Master Fu mumbled, looking over at a picture of a young him and a beautiful woman. "But if they are destined for each other then even the oceans of time can not separate them,"

 ~One Month before Princess Justice~

 "Sir?" Nathalie asked as she came into his office. She had been summoned by him, causing her to worry. Was her job at risk? Or was it good news? She knew he was actively searching for his wife since her disappearance. She couldn't help but hope that maybe he had found her but then she saw him stood in front of the portrait of Emile. The way he was stood wasn't a man who had finally found his wife back. She could practically feel the sorrow raiding in off him. "Sir, you called for me?"

 "Nathalie, please close the door and lock it," He stated in his usual tone but usually he wasn't so secretive. She frowned a little but did as he asked. "Nathalie, I can trust you, can't I?"

 "Of course, sir but can I ask what has brought this on?" She asked, confused as he turned around. Honestly, he looked tired and like he hadn't slept properly in ages. "Are you ok, sir?"

 "Tell me... what are your thoughts on our local heroes?" He asked, confusing her.

 "Well, sir, I'd say they are brave..." She replied, making him nod.

 "And the man terrorizing Paris... what do you think of Hawkmoth?" He asked, making her frown. Why did he care what she thought of Hawkmoth?

 "Well... he seems to be...." She muttered, thinking about this carefully. She didn't want to come across as a terrorist sympathizer because she wasn't. Not really. She just believed that he was a desperate man. Not that justified his actions but he never actually kills anyone and she had a feeling that he was doing this for a reason. However, she knows she could very much be wrong. Gabriel frowned, waiting for her answer. "He seems like to be a desperate man,"

 "A desperate man?" He asked, getting a nod of her. "And why do you think that?"

 "I'm not sure, sir," She replied, looking to the side. "It's just the impression I get from his actions. He seems so desperate to get the heroes' jewels that it makes me think he has a reason for it and I don't think it's too rule the world or anything. If he wanted to rule the world, why go after the miraculous when he could just make an akuma who will do the work for him? No, I think he is after something more personal then that and I think it's something he can't do himself.... but sir... how do you know he's called Hawkmoth? Not even the heroes or the police know that..."

 "How insightful," Gabriel muttered, nodding before turning around. The statement confused Nathalie. "Nathalie, what I am able to show you must be kept secret no matter what,"

 "Of course, sir," She nodded. He gestured to her, causing her to move and stand next to him before he pressed hidden buttons on the portrait. She gasped as the floor shook before they descended down into the floor. Her eyes widen as she saw the hidden garden underneath. She had no idea this place existed. It was beautiful yet strangely full of sorrow. Gabriel opened the door to the lift and stepped outside before offering her his hand. She took it and he helped in her into the garden. They walked over to a strange object in the middle of it.

 "You are very resourceful and insightful woman, Nathalie," He stated, making her look at him. "I wish to share my burden with you,"

 "B-Burden?"

 "My wife..." He muttered, looking down. What did he mean? Her mind raced at possibilities. What if he killed his wife? What if he was about to kill her? This man could be a murderer! "My sweet Emile... she always wanted to live a full and exciting life.... so when we found the miraculous... she was overjoyed. She took the peafowl and I took the butterfly. Oh those days were glorious but then she got sick... it progressively got worst and worst to the point that even the doctors had no idea what was wrong... by all means she was healthy yet a mysterious illness swept over her, draining her... It was then I noticed the cracks on her miraculous and made the link. She had only gotten ill when she started to use the miraculous..."

 "It made her sick?"

 "Yes... and I searched for a cure but nothing I did helped," He sighed. "Then we learnt from the kwamis that they were other miraculous... in particular two that could merge together and grant a wish that could change the world... we were going to find a way to claim them but then-"

 "She disappeared...." She muttered but he shook his head and pressed a button on the object, causing it to come to life and open up, revealing Emile laying inside of it. Nathalie gasped in shock as Gabriel pressed his hand on the glass. "I-is She..."

 "Dead? No... she's in a coma..." He muttered, making her frown. Shouldn't she be in a hospital? "This chamber is a life support machine. It keeps her alive and breathing but she is stuck in a coma. This is why I have been creating akumas... if I can lure out the heroes who hold the earrings of the ladybug and the ring of the black cat, I can merge them and make a wish... but no matter how many akumas I create, the heroes I need don't turn up. Instead, I am forced to battle with those two fools, Ryuko and Aspik..."

 "Y-you're the one making the villains..." She gasped, making him to look at her. "W-Why..."

 "To bring her back to me and Adrien..." He gasped, desperately. "Nathalie, I know this is a lot to take in but I am trying to save my wife's life. No medicine or doctor can heal her and if I bring her to a hospital, they'll declare her dead but as long as I can get those items, I can bring her back. I need to bring her back!"

 Nathalie looked at him and instead of seeing an evil villain, she saw a broken man. 

 "Gabriel... you love her that much?"

 "Yes! I would do anything for her," He gasped, making her heart flutter a little. She couldn't help but admire him. He was so devoted to his wife that he was willing to brink her back from the brink of death. She walked over to him and took his hands, surprising him.

 "I will do what I can to help you," She stated.

 "Nathalie... I only need someone to understand my pain..." He gasped but she shook her head.

 "Whatever you need I will do," She declared, looking at him with admiration. "I will do anything for you,"

 "Thank you, Nathalie. You really are my trusted friend," He smiled before dismissing her. She walked back to the lift but she failed to notice the smirk that came onto Gabriel's face as soon as she walked away. She would be a perfect ally and never betray him. After all, he knew she was truly in love with him and when someone is truly in love, they just want the person of their affections to be happy no matter what.

 ~Two Hours After Ikari Gozen~

 "Sir, are you ok?" Nathalie asked as Gabriel came up from his secret room. Nooroo was eating a snack and he looked annoyed. He waved his hand and sat down as Nathalie cleared her voice. "Ikari Gozen was the closest we've came to capturing Anatis. We would have succeed if Ryuko hadn't come out of retirement,"

 "Yes, I am aware of that," He growled, making her frown a little. "Anatis has gained more allies. It's bad enough that he has Culpeo, Abeille and Leatherback on his side but now he has managed to repair relations with Ryuko and Aspik..."

 "What do you want to do, sir?" She asked, making him glance at her. 

 "Tell me, how is Miss Rossi doing?" He asked, causing Nathalie to look on her tablet.

 "She is still hiding away from the shame of her defeat," She muttered, typing. "She has been harboring her anger against Anatis for weeks and with heroes day coming, she will see the object of her hatred everywhere she goes. The mayor has already announced that Anatis and Lady Noir will be a theme on at least one of the floats during the heroes parade. Since she will be faced with his visage wherever she'll go, I predict her anger will reach devastating heights, meaning she will ripe for akumatization. We could bring back Volpina,"

 "Interesting," He muttered, taking the tablet she had handed to him. "Heroes day hm? What better day then to claim their miraculous once and for all?"

 "So we use Volpina,"

 "Yes but she only has some much use," He replied, making her glance at him. "Nathalie, you said you would do anything for me? Does that still ring true?"

 "Of course sir," She nodded, looking at him with a serious expression. "What do you need me to do?"

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

Next Chapter: https://ultra-sassyduck.tumblr.com/post/637807797675900929/miraculous-rise-of-anatis-40

[littlemissvincentvega]

Head Cannons First Dates with the Dogs and Eddie

Brown:

* You met him when he approached you at an Indy movie viewing in your town. You were getting Mike and Ike’s and he totally interrupts your transaction with the clerk by asking you your favorite flavors. Although a little annoyed you think he is adorable. You indulge and tell him your favorites and he tells you the entire history of the candy. After the movie he finds you and asks if you want to get a late night snack to discuss the film.

* You both go to a dessert bar around the corner. Although you offer to share a piece of pie, you know to be romantic he rejects the requests and orders his usual brownie with whipped cream.

* He goes on and on about the cinematography and plot.

* You add your own opinions and he is intrigued and fascinated

* You end up talking until closing.

* He walks you back to your car and offers to follow you home to make sure you get In safely.

* You decline although you didn’t think it was weird.

* He calls you the next day to chat and ask you out again

Mr. Pink

* you meet Mr. Pink in the wine shop in your neighborhood. He saw you before you noticed him. He kinda followed you around the store but tries to not make himself seem obvious or weird.

* You pick up a bottle of red to inspect. He peers over your shoulder “that one is kinda overpriced for what you get. If you’re looking for a full bodied red I would recommend this one.” As he hands you another bottle of red wine.

* You thank him with a smile. He barely gets the words out “you’re welcome”. He of course scurries away to check out the alcohol accessories.

* After you check out he is super nervous but trying to keep it together. “ hey I don’t normally do this but I would regret this for years if I didnt, but I was wondering if maybe I can take you out sometime.” Of course you say yes because he is super adorable.

* The day of the date you’re low key super excited. The appointment you had before your date canceled so you could meet earlier. You call him to see if he wanted to get together an hour earlier but when you call he assumes youre cancelling. “Oh I figured this would happen, really don’t feel bad... oh earlier?? Yeah sure. I’m free.”

* He takes you to a low key jazz lounge. You are wearing a tight fitting black slip dress. When he sees you his eyes get big and his jaw drops. “ wow you look incredible” he says as he greets you. You lean to kiss his cheek.

* Although he is trying his best to stay calm ans confident, he def is having a hard time staying focused on the music. Halfway through the evening you reach for his hand and ask if he wants to dance, the band is playing “In a Sentimental Mood”.

* He is super embarrassed about his dance moves so he groans and reluctantly gets up.

* You slow dance and put your head on his chest, his heart is racing!!!!

* He suggest going back to his house for more wine and to show off his record collection.

* You listen to a few records, totally impressed by the wine and music. Since you are both a little tipsy, you take an Uber home.

* He walks you to the car and you give him a soft kiss on the lips. Of course when you pull away his eyes are still closed and almost like he is in a trance.

* He text you good night and he hopes to see you again soon.

Mr. White:

* You meet white at a mutual friends birthday party in their backyard. You’re helping to bring out drinks and you catch him looking at you from across the yard. He is looking a little too long so you smile and give him your innocent big doe eyes.

* Throughout the afternoon you steal glances at each other. But never actually speaking. You of course are tucking your hair behind your ears and flirting from a distance.

* When the party is winding down and you’re bringing a few glasses inside, he saunters in a few feet after you. Causal but determined.

* “Can I help you with anything?” You turn around slowly and smile. “No, I’m practically done. Is there anything I can help you with?” You ask in a very seductive tone as you take a few steps toward him. Larry raises his brows and looks around. “ well since you’re offering... Could you explain to me who decides to have a garden party on the hottest day of the year?” You both laugh and gaze at each other. “I’m Larry.” “I’m y/n” Larry says “I’m about to head out but I would love to spend more time with you and get to know you. Would I be able to give you my information?” You smile and take his number.

* You wait a few days before you call him. When he answers he tries to hide his excitement when he finds out it’s you. “Oh hey Y/N I didn’t think you would call. It’s good to hear from you.” During your conversation he finds out you’ve never been to a baseball game.

* Of course your first date is to a brewers v dodgers game. He buys everything and is shocked to find out you’re a vegan. He finds a stand that has vegan options and buys whatever you want. Larry spends the game explaining the rules in a patient and calm way. He finds little ways to touch your hand and makes jokes to make you laugh. He asks questions about you throughout the game truly wanting to know more about you.

* At the 7th inning stretch he puts his arm around your waist to pull you closer as you watch the highlight reel. He tells you that he is having a really great time. You are as well.

* You of course buy a dodgers hat, Larry refuses to make the purchase since he is a Brewers fan.

* At the end of the game you walk around the stadium a bit laughing and talking before getting kicked out. Larry drives you home. He drives a classic muscle car (duh).

* He opens the door for you and let’s you out. He grabs your hands and pulls you into him as he leans against the hood of his car. His muscles are very defined through his shirt. He holds your hips into him as you both continue to talk for a few mins.

* Your eyes lock and you lean into him and make out passionately. LArry walks you to your door, holding hands slowly walking to the door . He kisses you again and is respectful to not ask to come in although you would have said yes.

* When you’re done getting ready for bed you call him to make sure he got in safely, “y/n I was just about to pick up the phone to call you, tonight was wonderful. I’d love to take out again.” You agree and make a baseball reference. “Aw sexy, smart, and a fast learner... I need to be careful. Sweetheart I would love to see you sometime this week. Let me know when you’re free.” Your heart melts and you set up a time.

Mr Orange.

* you know he pretends to be cocky AF and it kind of turned you off at first.

* You meet him through Holloway who is dating your best friend. Holloway promises he is a nice guy and a great cop. Evidently he has seen photos of you on social media and practically begged for an introduction.

* Holloway has a viewing party for a high profile boxing match, of course he invites you (even though you don’t care about the sports), Orange, a few cops from the precinct, and other friends.

* Holloway introduces you to Orange. Orange tries to play it super cool to the point where he comes off as nonchalant, uninterested and arrogant. The moment you shack his hand he says nice to meet you and walks away to a fellow officer across the room. You look at Holloway and look at orange who is involved in a completely different conversation now, like “what was that?” Throughout the rounds Orange is cheering and jeering on and taunting the guys during the under card, not paying attention to you at all. Holloway pulls him aside before the headliner, and asks him why he isnt making an attempt to talk to you. Orange says “man she is way too hot and way out of my league. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not going to embarrass myself.” Holloway encourages him to at least to make small talk. Orange walks over to you with his hands in his jean pockets all shy. He asks if you’re enjoying the match and you lie and say yes. Of course you’re in the kitchen with the women laughing and not paying attention. Holloway enters the kitchen and joins his GF by you and orange to help lighten the mood. Orange is obviously out of his element. The final match is announced and you offer to watch it with him. During the Main card you sit next to him. He is too nervous to taunt anyone and sits quietly. A cop that Orange works with says “hey y/n needs to come around more often, I have never heard Freddy this quiet before.” Everyone erupts in laughter but Freddy turns beet red.

* Everyone leaves and Freddy Irish good byes without getting your information.

* Holloway’s girlfriend has to be the one to give you freddys number. You reluctantly call because why didn’t he at least say bye... and he picks up after the first ring.

* You meet him at the modern art museum, there is an exhibit on comics and anime. Freddy opens up and tells you all about the artwork and his love for comics.

* Half way through Freddy has to go to the bathroom. As he washes his hands he reminds himself he is super cool and he is the Barretta. He convinces himself you like him and you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.

* At the end of the exhibit Freddy is nervously chatting about how he didn’t expect you to come and how stoked he was, while he is rambling you kiss him to shut him up. He is stunned 😍.

* When you get home, Freddy immediately calls you. Some classicSpeed Racer movie is on to put on a movie channel and he thinks you’d like it. You get into jammies and stay on the phone and watch it with him. He is super excited as you both watch the movie over the phone ans chat.

* When you start getting tired, Freddy asks if you want to grab coffee in the morning before you start your day. You of course say yes.

Nice Guy Eddie.

* you meet Eddie at a dive bar after work while you’re getting drinks with coworkers.

* Eddie asks if you want to play pool. You say you don’t really play often but sure. He teaches you the basics and then challenges you to a match, “if you win Your next round is on me.” You ask what if he wins since that’s more likely... “ you have to let me take you out this Friday.” He says with a grin. “It’s a win win.” While playing you ask for extra help with Eddie standing behind you pressed against you with his hands on yours directing you softly on how to shoot the pool stick . Eddie wins the match and still buys you your next round.

* On Friday Eddie picks you up and let’s you pick the music. He takes you to a very nice Italian restaurant with white table clothes and candle lights. He hold your hand across the table and speaks low and softly to you. You’re literally melting.

* You can tell he is a big deal the way he carries himself and the way the staff responds to him.

* After dinner you hold hands walking around the busy neighborhood. Eddie stops you in front of a lit fountain and cups our cheeks in his hands. He kisses you softly on the lips. Eyes closed still smile and you gaze into his eyes. He kisses you again as you melt into him.

* Eddie takes you back home and you proceed to make out with him playing Sinatra and candles offering the only light

* Before things get too far you tell him he should go. He doesn’t Protest but is obviously a little disappointed. He is the type that gets everything he wants so you have to hold back some.

* He calls you a few days later. He would have called sooner but he got busy with a job.

* You suggest your next date be he takes you around to places that are significant to him from his childhood.

Mr Blonde

* soooo smooth.

* You don’t even remember when you first saw blonde, you just saw each other often enough at random places that he decided to speak to you. This time it was at a gas station... yes random as hell. You’re pumping your gas watching the meter ans you hear a voice come behind you “Hey are you stalking me?” He asks you in a smooth raspy tone, eyes squinted a bit but he was obviously joking. “Hmm I could ask you the same thing. I swear I see you everywhere.” He chuckles ans scratches his thumb nail above his eyebrow lowering his head looking up at you “everywhere huh?” Obviously implying something sexual. You roll your eyes but you unintentionally blush because well guilty. “Well what’s your name? I want to finally be able to tell my friends WHO this beautiful woman is I’m always running into.” You are literally struck, “I’m Y/N” you say almost in a dream like trance. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Victor Vega. I’m hoping the next time I see you it’s a little more planned.” Information is exchanged.

* Vic calls you the next day and asks if you have plans for dinner. You of course don’t.

* You drive over to vics and he is fixing his old school truck in the driveway. When you pull up he glances up and wipes his hands with his handy rag. He Is wearing a white tee shirt and dark blue jeans. He walks down to your car and greets you. He leads you inside and says he needs to get changed. He gets changed quickly and you are off. He drives down the Pacific highway along the coast. The sun is setting and the air is warm. You finally get to this little Mexican restaurant on the side of the road overlooking the ocean. The owner and his wife run the place. You’re led to a table for two outside.

* Vic is peering into your eyes and entranced by your conversation.

* You finally order and eat.

* After you eat the couple bring out a few shots of tequila and sit with you both. You all laugh ans chat and drink like you have all known each other for years.

* You hug the couple, a little tipsy but still coherent. Vic is able to drive no problem.

* As you drive up the coast back home, Vic has his hand on your thigh while he is driving. You lean closer into him and his hand gets higher

* When you get back to his house you are so revved up going home is not an option. You and Vic start kissing from the door and he leads you towards his bedroom.

* You end up spending the night and wearing his t-shirt to bed. The next day you bashfully get ready to go home as Vic is waking up. “Hey you’re not leaving already are you? At least let me make you coffee.” Vic goes to the kitchen and starts the coffee maker shirtless ans only wearing pajama bottoms. You end up staying at his house until the late afternoon. He has to get ready for a job and you need to get home to your own house.

* He calls you the next day and he tells you he already knows you’re something else. From then on you’re practically inseparable.

ok first of all i am SO sorry this took me forever to read and post but OMGGGGG I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!! mr brown’s one has such a true romance vibe, also him telling y/n the entire history of the candy you’re buying is so accurate i can fully imagine that 😹😹

and the last part of eddie’s! like going around places from his childhood, i’ve never thought about that before but that’s so sweet and on point :’) i wonder what kind of places that might be? seriously though this is so great and i hope you’re doing amazing 🥰🥰 thank u so much!!!

[taeyongtime]

finale of the longing heart

genre: rich kid!au x model!reader ⎮ angst ⎮ bittersweet fluff

group & member: NCT’s Taeyong

word count: ~18,500 words

↳ 🚨: alcohol-mention, mature theme, explicit language, slow burn, tons of pining. read at own discretion. 

brief synopsis: 

↳ “Why can’t you see that you’ve always had a piece of my heart from the very beginning?”

“He’s late.”

You look up from fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth and cough to ease the prickling tension at the dining table.

“Maybe he’s busy.”

“Sure, he is.” The following scoff is unrelenting, accompanied with a roll of the eyes at the empty seat to your left. “Every day he comes home drunk to no end and with a new girl hanging off his arms like a newly bought accessory from the jeweler’s down the street.

“You’ve barely touched any of your food. Not hungry?”

“I… I thought to wait for him first,” you answer, smiling weakly. “It’s what we do at home.”

“Just eat first, Y/N. Who cares if that loser brother of mine doesn’t come back for dinner?” A manicured finger taps against the table top, two more joining the impatient rhythm drumming onward. “It’s not the first time he’s called a no-show anyway.”

The doorbell rings the very moment the sharp words are spoken, and one of the maids on standby hurries to answer the door while you watch to see who had arrived.

“Eat,” comes the ushering again. “We’re way pass a suitable time to eat and you’ve been here since our afternoon tea at three.”

“If… If you insist.”

Silver fork in hand, you get ready to dig into the cooled carbonara pasta on your plate when a hiccup catches your attention.

“God, you look terrible,” laments the woman sitting at the head of the table upon hearing the impending footsteps. “And what a surprise. No accessory this time, little brother?”

The slump in the middle of the two maids who had carried him in shakes his head and giggles, a bubbling sound that offsets the flushed red of his cheeks and glazed look in his eyes.

You put down the utensil in your hand and nod in greeting, startled when he wiggles away from the maids and tumbles straight onto you.

“Cute!” He presses his face against yours and rubs aggressively, smiling as an arm loops around your shoulders.

“So cute!”

“Taeyong, you little…” His sister snaps her fingers at the two maids. “Get him upstairs and make sure he’s somewhat more sober before coming back down.”

“I’m sorry,” she turns to you with an exasperated sigh, “It’s rare enough that he comes home without any plus ones, but to return smelling of booze and…”

You shake your head before she could finish, waving it off with a light smile.

“I don’t mind.”

Midway through the second round of tea and light snacks after the dinner, one of the maids enters the parlor to inform your host that the Young Master has sobered up somewhat, but will be having dinner up in his room rather that in the company of his sister’s good friend. The excuse of ‘not wanting her to see me looking like shit’ is all too familiar to your ears as you stand up from your seat on the couch. Here it was, the signal for you to leave, and you weren’t ignorant enough to insist on staying when you had spent a large portion of your day in their family home already.

“I should be getting home now,” you say politely. “Thank you for having me over.”

“The pleasure is ours. And I’ll see you next week for Seoul Fashion Week?”

“… No guarantees, but I’ll let you know if I do end up going.”

—

“How was the dinner?”

You look up from your book and nod.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Did he even show up?”

Closing the book, you adjust the covers and extra cushion against your back, pausing before answering your brother.

“He was drunk as usual.”

“I really don’t understand why you still like him,” he scowls. “At this rate you’re not much different from an old toy that’s been tossed aside because the baby’s gone bored of it.”

“Sicheng, I’m trying to read.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” your brother adds before dropping the subject, not in the mood to continue when past arguments have always ended in the silent treatment. “When it all falls apart, you can’t say I didn’t try to convince you beforehand.”

“Okay, you little know-it-all. Have you decided what to wear for next week?”

“I have a set of clothes prepared already,” Sicheng says haughtily, unfazed by the change of subject. “You?”

“I’m not sure if I’ll even go. Maybe I’ll ask Ten to borrow some of his clothes if I do end up going.”

“You’re going to ask Ten for clothes? He’s notorious for not liking it when people ask to borrow his clothes.”

“Why not? In fact, I’ll ask him now.”

“God, you’re so…” Sicheng studies you closely as you reach for your phone and tap along the screen, putting it away after a mere thirty seconds of tapping and clicking.

“Well?”

“He’s grumpy but willing to lend me some clothes,” you say with a grin, “Heh.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes before tossing a thinning grin your way. “We have work tomorrow, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“When?”

“8am,” he says sharply, knuckles rapping against your bedroom door. “Not 9:00, not 8:30, but 8 sharp.”

“Okay,” you grumble, detesting early work calls. “I hear you.”

“I’ve already told your makeup and hair stylists about it, so you can’t use your staff as an excuse to sleep in.”

“Jeez, okay.”

“Also, I hear Ten’s going to be using that same set later, so you can ask him to confirm if he’ll even go to fashion week when you see him.”

“Since when did you become such a nagger? Doyoung must be rubbing off on you.”

Sicheng gives you his signature look of open-mouth, half-glowering glare of disbelief mixed with an awe at hearing what he deemed as the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.

“I am nothing like Doyoung.”

“One overbearing adult in this household is enough, and that adult is not going to be you or me.”

“Mom’s going to riot if she heard you comparing her to an amateur like Doyoung.”

“Oh sure,” you drawl. “As if the standards of an ex-supermodel are all that matter when even she can have her moments of being incorrect.”

“You know what I mean,” your brother finishes. “It’s both due to her influence and our own talent that we’re still employed and favored by designers and the public themselves. She gets more credit than you think.”

“Yeah, yeah. This is precisely why you’re the favorite in this family, Sicheng.”

Confirming the time of work with your brother one last time, the door swings shut again and you sigh deeply while running a hand through your uncombed hair. Clearly the world wasn’t sick of you just yet, the demand for your face in magazine spreads still as strong as ever even when you’d already been under the watch of the camera lens for the past six years and counting.

—

Traffic had been worse than usual, and now the two of you were nearly three hours late, frantic footsteps hurriedly making their way down the hall once you enter the front door to find the photographer who was to take your photos.

“I told you yesterday 8am.”

“My phone didn’t ring,” you hiss, the straps of your sandals biting into the space between your toes as you pick up the pace. “I had an alarm set for at least 7:30, I swear.”

The bickering halts as Sicheng nudges your elbow, bringing your attention to the head photographer clicking through his computer on set. Eyebrows furrowed and mouth tightened to a scowl… there was no getting out easy for this one with a three-hour tardy slip on the line.

“Finally,” he drawls, turning around to face you and Sicheng after taking a sip from the coffee cup next to the mousepad. “The wonder duo shows up right before we call for lunch.”

“There was traffic,” you explain, dipping your head low in apology. “We—”

“Enough, just get to hair and makeup. If I reprimand you two with anything more than a warning, your mother would certainly come for my head to be served on a plate, garnish and all.”

You quickly follow your manager to hair and makeup while Sicheng goes straight to the stylists for a fitting after the quick dismissal. Sometimes it worked in your advantage after all to be the daughter of an ex-supermodel who still had significant influence on the fashion industry.

Hair done and makeup complete, any lingering thoughts fade as you begin making your way out to the cameras, bumping into a figure you hadn’t been expecting to see this early in the day.

“Ten!” you exclaim in surprise, shooting him a warm smile when his eyes meet yours. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until later in the evening.”

“They moved me up when you and your brother were still missing,” Ten laughs, eyes curving to warm crescents. “I’m free now.”

Your lips purse to a pout and he snickers.

“I’ll talk to you later, sweetie. We have to set some ground rules if you’re going to borrow some of my clothes.”

“Alright. See you then.”

Sicheng meets with you ten minutes later and you eye the oversized tan coat he was wearing, not quite understanding why there was also a baseball cap sitting atop his head, hair slightly tousled underneath the headwear.

“A bit big, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I was given,” he retorts, sizing up the white crop top and corresponding tan wide leg pants on you. “And honestly I can say the same about your pants.”

“It’s what I was given.”

Rolling his eyes at you recycling his words, Sicheng pulls you after him and you nearly stumble from the wedge sandals on your feet failing to keep up with the hurried pace of his black sneakers.

“Stop walking so fast!”

“I have long legs and so do you. Keep up.”

The shoot goes by rather quickly, or at least it feels like it didn’t last very long as you face the camera with an arm on your brother’s shoulder. The natural chemistry between family is clear; you readjust your position to match with his in the next few shots, readily tilting your head when directed to and jumping on his back without further thought. Any other male model would have been scared off immediately, but this was your brother after all. The tightly closed eyes, open-mouthed grins and loud laughter echoing around the set all captured on the reel of film, you nearly didn’t hear the final “Cut!” before one of the photographer’s assistants holds up an okay sign to let you know the photoshoot had ended.

“Was… Was it okay?” you ask the photographer, leaning against Sicheng and still wheezing after an intense tickle session. Hopefully your performance had been more than enough to make up for missing the scheduled time to start the shoot.

“Sometimes I fail to believe you two are just siblings,” he comments, clicking through the photos on his computer and zooming in on a shot of Sicheng carrying you on his back. He then switches to one of you and your brother sitting side by side on the floor like dolls on display, gazes alluring at the overseeing lens of the flashing cameras. “Natural talent is something you both exhibited beautifully and now I see why word in the studios claims that your mother actually hadn’t left the industry at all.”

Sicheng mumbles a “thank you” at the elevated compliment and nudges your side, smiling slightly as you give him a thumbs-up in return. Having entered the fashion industry with your brother at the ripe age of fifteen, you certainly didn’t have fame and fortune handed to you right off the bat. Being children of a woman who had walked more catwalks than there were dresses designed per fashion season, the silver spoon that was your supermodel mother only raised expectations from the press and other notable figures in the industry, already labeling you and Sicheng as successors to your mother’s legacy in the fashion world the moment you had started walking on two feet rather than all fours. The lens became a common part of your childhood and even now at age 21 it was still everywhere, capturing moments of you frozen frame by frame to be edited and inserted into the next fashion magazine for the upcoming season’s new collections.

A few more comments are made before the two of you are released, your managers stepping up to discuss any lingering schedules while you grab onto Sicheng’s arm for extra support as you ease out of the wedge sandals constraining your aching feet. Taking them off, you hold the sandals by the straps and hum in delight, your toes cool on the floor’s hardwood tiles.

“If Mom were here she’d scold you until tomorrow for walking around barefoot,” Sicheng scoffs, already switching back to his usual prickliness. “Put the sandals back on.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you tell him, nose high in the air as your managers return, not paying attention to the conversation until feeling the nudge from your brother.

“Let’s go, we’re done here.”

“Wait, I was supposed to meet Ten!”

Grumbling, he follows you around to look for the model in question, and you spot Ten sitting down in front of the camera, head tilted at the prompting from the photographer before the camera begins to flash. You make a mental note of your colleague’s poses, taking in the way he held the bottle of cologne in his hands and the single spray at his long neck. Knowing better than to interrupt, you stand quietly but he gets up midway through a photo anyway, greeting you and Sicheng with a hearty wave.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you begin sheepishly, bowing to the photographer who had called a five-minute break because of Ten. “I can just text you later instead?”

“Nah,” he smirks. “I’d rather talk to you in person, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.”

“Ten, only you have the nerve to get up in the middle of a shoot and the staff would still be okay with it.”

Ten laughs at Sicheng’s comment and brief catching up between the three of you takes place before one of the staff approaches with a black cat in his hands.

“A cat!” Your eyes shine in excitement. “I haven’t done a shoot with animals in forever!”

“It wasn’t warming up to me at first,” Ten explains. “Hopefully it’s feeling better after I did my other batch of photos earlier in the morning when you two weren’t here yet.”

Five minutes already up, the model excuses himself from the conversation as he returns to the set, lying still for the staff member to gently place the cat down by Ten’s left shoulder. The feline turns its head at the sound of the clicker behind the photographer and Ten’s eyes soften as he pets the animal’s head. Another quick pause and the cat is moved from the floor to a surface on higher ground, the model following suit. The slight tilt of his face, chin resting comfortably on the cat’s lithe body, even simple nods to the music playing in the background while gazing into the cameras leave you absolutely enamored at the entire process of the photoshoot. You still had so much to learn and improve on even though you were already not that bad yourself.

“And that’s a wrap, thank you!”

Ten thanks the photographer and the rest of the staff for their hard work, and he mouths for you to wait. Approaching the staff member in charge of the cat, he returns after a moment’s pause holding the feline, and you gasp as he gently places it into your arms.

“I figured you’d want to play with it after we were done.”

“I’ve always wanted a pet,” you say after holding it for a full fifteen minutes. “Figured it’d be nice to have another companion at home besides Sicheng.”

“Get one,” Ten encourages, offering the returned cat to your brother and shrugging when the latter politely shakes his head. “I think a cat suits you.”

“I don’t know if my mother would be open to the idea of—”

“Oh, it’s Taeyong!”

You turn abruptly at hearing the name, nervous as said person walks towards Ten. Sicheng tugs on your arm to go but you stand firm, wanting to at least say hi to Taeyong since he was here and all.

“Work?” Taeyong asks Ten, noticing your presence but forgoing the hello for the cat in Ten’s arms.

“Cute cat.”

“Work with the cat,” Ten corrects him, scratching the feline behind its ears. “Want to pet him?”

“Yes, please.”

“I have to get going,” you speak up, a sense of unease prickling down your back. “See you later, Ten.”

“Are you still borrowing some of my clothes?” Ten asks.

Taeyong finally looks at you and you find yourself tongue-tied, stammering a reply that sounds like a yes in your brain before nodding your head in confirmation.

“My sister wanted to know if you would be attending Seoul Fashion Week,” he begins, quirking an eyebrow in question. “Sounds like you’re going with Ten?”

The insinuation easy to pick up on, you shake your head before Ten can even speak and Sicheng interjects with a taut smile at Taeyong before pulling you aside and away from the fray.

“Sicheng, what the hell?”

“Just because you tell him no doesn’t mean he’ll offer to go with you,” your brother mutters. “I already overheard him asking Kang Miyeon if she’s free.”

The name of your senior strikes a chord and you force a hopeful smile. “At least that means he’ll go, right?”

“Get a grip! Taeyong’s in love with her, not you!”

“They already broke up,” you begin slowly, fingers unconsciously curling together into a fist. “The tabloids haven’t caught them together on camera as of late.”

“People are secretive! Especially someone like Taeyong who has face and knows he’ll get jumped the moment he gets caught with a dating scandal again!” Sicheng rolls his eyes and spins around to face you; you can tell he was trying his best to not lose his temper.

“Pull yourself out before you really get hurt this time.”

“I… I can’t just stop loving him when I’ve loved him for so long already, Sicheng. That’s just impossible.”

—

You’ve had your fair share of dating rumors with multiple celebrities along the path of forging your modeling career, the press honing in on every word you said and every tiny action you made when your first relationship with an actor when you were 18 had gone public. The daughter of an ex supermodel dating a rising young actor had been such a story, or at least it was until said guy was caught locking lips with a fellow model in your same management two days after he had proclaimed his undying love for you on your 19th birthday. Since then, you never went public with another relationship again, tired of the constant questions on how long things would last and what your mother thought of your rumors.

Of course, the press was not to be underestimated, their detective work always finding you when you thought you had it all under wraps. Just recently it was practically their goal in life to determine whether you were romantically involved or not with Lee Taeyong, one of the members of the playboy quartet currently wreaking havoc amongst the entire female population of the city with their dashingly good looks and wealthy upbringings after the man had showed up to an evening ball with you as his so-called “date” for the night.

Ten, another member of said grouping who also happened to be a close friend of yours, giggled like mad at finding out you harbored the same infatuation with Taeyong as did the numerous female readers who had read the magazine that had done the spread of the four “Golden Boys”, even offering a helpful word of advice to move on from Taeyong to spare yourself the rejection before even giving the confession. But love worked unpredictably and lowered its head to no one, hence the slap on the face only stung more when you found out he had only approached you to get closer to one of the fellow models signed under your company. 

Miss Kang Miyeon, like many of the female models just entering the industry back then, looked up to your mother greatly and was no doubt nicer to you than she should have, warm smiles and offering tips on how to correct your walk and strike poses that were unique yet carried the elegance that was true to the name of what was ‘high fashion’. The two of you had gotten close enough to the point of sisterhood, but a sly sabotage at Sicheng from her end to win a spot on a catwalk your mother was also scheduled to walk on before her imminent retirement had cut the growing stalk that was your first friend outside of the family. Left to shreds, the budding friendship shrunk into an indifferent senior/junior separation at work. She had even cut off all ties with Taeyong, convinced he loved you more because of your elevated silver spoon in terms of modeling when she had to work from the bottom up.

Naturally, Taeyong hadn’t received the rejection well, and that was when you received the rejection for your unspoken confession, his signature deathly glare and furious growl crushing your heart into a million pieces of shattered glass. Of course, this hasn’t stopped you from trying to get back on his good graces and has never stopped you even when it would be better to simply move on to spare yourself any more misery at the lack of reciprocation for your feelings.

“Hey, are you ready?”

“Yes!” you call out, glancing over your reflection in the mirror one last time. Hair freshly washed and makeup lightly applied save the darker than usual eyeliner, you reach for the black Heich Blade jacket draped on your chair just as your brother walks in.

“Sicheng, you look great!”

Decked in a black Charm’s turtleneck, suspenders hooked on his leather jeans followed with a splash of color from a pair of forest green sneakers, he angles his round glasses down at the black tie-dye Saint Laurent shirt tucked within your black belted pencil skirt. A disapproving click of tongue follows the confirmation of the puppy socks on your feet while you put the black jacket over your shirt.

“What’s your concept, angst-ridden teenager who volunteers at animal shelters on Fridays?”

“These are Ten’s clothes, so I’m telling him you called him an angst-ridden teenager when we see him later.”

His fingers snap in confirmation. “I knew that shirt and jacket weren’t yours. Why can’t you wear your own clothes again?”

You ignore his question and gesture at the two pairs of shoes contending to be worn out. “Should I wear the combat boots or the heeled ankle ones?”

“You know Mom’s going to kill you if she knew you wore combat boots of all things at a fashion show.”

You groan at the disapproval, switching out your purple bedroom slippers to the pair of black ankle boots that had been mocking you since you woke up to get ready.

“Fine.”

“Ten’s going to say you look better than him in his own clothes,” Sicheng begins, heading downstairs and making sure you were out of the house first since you had a reputation of turning tail last minute. “He’ll either burn these after you return them to him or let you keep them.”

“I hope I can at least keep the jacket,” you giggle as the family driver opens the limousine door for you. “I like how snuggly this is and all my things fit in the pockets.”

Sicheng peeks into the front pocket and rolls his eyes at seeing the phone and wallet nestled safely within.

“Don’t get caught scrolling through your phone during the show.”

“They can’t catch me when I find myself a seat in the back.”

“No can do, we have front row. You know Mom would never arrange for us to be seated in the back when it comes to attending fashion shows.”

◇

At least twelve cameras flash in your faces the moment you and your brother step out of the limousine, accompanied by the bombardment of questions regarding your mother when the two of you make the way over to the red carpet.

“I hate this,” you mutter through gritted teeth, linking an arm around Sicheng.

“Tell me about it,” he replies, bowing after the final shots were taken. You pause for one last photo, holding tightly onto his arm as he weaves through the sea of bodies huddled around the inside of the show venue. Frequent stops are made to talk briefly with photographers you’ve worked with before, and models from other management companies walk up to you several times to give their greetings and start a conversation about your attendance after three years of playing hooky. Even representatives from your favorite brands stop by to offer a greeting, the most memorable being the rep from Charm’s who basically wouldn’t let Sicheng go once spotting your brother among the sea of attendees for today’s show.

“Hey, you look better in my clothes than I do.”

You turn around and giggle at the frown on Ten’s face.

“Love the look, by the way.”

“Tell me about it,” he says dramatically, adjusting the black tie at his collar. “There’s always pressure to look good because that’s how I get more jobs.”

“It’s not like you need it,” the figure to his right jokes. “You’re loaded.”

“Shut up, Doyoung. Some of us here actually can have fun making our hobbies our careers.”

“I never said I didn’t enjoy my job as a model,” Doyoung scowls, his lanky figure not at all pleased at the diss. “I could use more popularity from the jobs that you don’t take, you know.”

“I’ll put in a good word to all the photographers I deny since you like picking after my remains so much.”

Their bickering only amplifies the buzz around you, your head spinning at the overstimulation of the immediate environment.  

“Three years since I was last here and it seems like each show only grows in numbers per year.”

You squeeze your brother’s fingers gently. “Thanks for not leaving me to attend this by myself.”

“You’re my sister,” he says rather pointedly. “Who else am I going to be there for if not you?”

“Aw, Sicheng.”

The lights dim and guests begin filing to their designated seats, you and Sicheng thankfully next to Doyoung and Ten at front row. A brief introduction starts off the first day of the week-long event and you watch keenly at the models making their ways down the catwalk. It’s all too familiar: the clicking heels, cameras and flashing lights while models sashayed down the stage in the outfit the stylist had given them, hurried returns backstage to change, not to mention chaos from last-minute touchups on hair and makeup. The front row seat becomes twice as enjoyable—legs crossed, jacket covering your lap as you fiddle with your phone underneath.

“You’re not very good at being discreet.”

“Shh,” you shush at hearing Ten’s chiding. “I’m just checking my messages.”

“Sure, sweetie. And I’m so excited to be here when I could be out dancing at the club.”

You blow a raspberry at Ten and try to focus on the models and the clothes they were showing, but it is difficult when you were more excited about returning to the mobile game still running on your phone. Fleeting gazes between overlooking the men and women who walked back and forth down the catwalk and what was underneath your jacket, you cross your arms and lean your head against Ten’s shoulder, his cough failing to edge you back to your side of the personal space bubble.

“Don’t get caught, then.”

He turns his head to speak softly to Doyoung, careful to not move too much in case you slip and hit your head. Thoughts to eavesdrop on their conversation flicker briefly in your mind but manners stop you in your tracks.

“No, I’m out of energy already?”

The outburst catches the attention of the guests down the line and some behind your row, and you quickly lock the screen. Hurriedly sitting up straight, you pretend as if nothing had happened just now and return your attention to the show.

“Told you so,” Ten mutters under his breath, nudging at your forearm. “Behave.”

Thankfully the runway show ends sooner than expected, giving you the opportunity to wiggle away from Ten and Doyoung, Sicheng already somewhere off on his own as you leave the audience seats and head for the bathroom. Sitting for such a long period had you fidgety and when you got anxious, you usually ended up needing to go to the bathroom almost immediately after.

Business completed, your path back to Ten and Doyoung comes to a halt when you hear two raised voices. An angry-looking Kang Miyeon brushes past you without notice and pushes you aside, nearly causing you to lose footing had the steady pair of outstretched hands not kept you upright.

“Are you alright?”

You turn around, at a loss for words at the prompted question.

A grunt and Taeyong removes his hands.

“I guess I did something I shouldn’t have.”

“Taeyong, wait!”

He stops and you panic.

“I… You came to Fashion Week with Miyeon?”

“Yeah. I saw you with Sicheng on the red carpet.”

Tongue-tied, you fumble for a new topic to continue the conversation when you hear footsteps clicking down the hall.

“What’s going on here?”

Sicheng walks towards you, his arm linking around the crook of yours.

“Don’t you have better things to do than get my sister in trouble?”

“Sicheng, he wasn’t—”

“Goodbye,” Taeyong snaps, barely sparing another glance at you as he pushes through Doyoung and Ten, the pair catching sight of Sicheng and apparently followed to gauge at the spilled tea.

“Yeah, hi, Taeyong,” Doyoung replies cheerily, a frown instantly forming on his face once Taeyong is out of sight.

“Y/N, I literally don’t know what you see in him, he’s the rudest motherf—”

Forgoing a response to Doyoung, you notice there’s an extra person standing behind them, eyeing Ten questioningly before he catches your gaze and pats the newcomer warmly on the back.

“Don’t think you’ve met Jaehyun yet, sweetie. Idiot practically sprinted over when I told him you were here today.”

“I mean, you’re so good in front of the camera,” Jaehyun stammers, sentences incoherent while avoids your gaze. “Not saying you’re usually bad because that’s obviously your job, but I think it’s very cool that you can be so good at… at being in pictures. Even if you aren’t working today.”

“Our mother would disown us if we couldn’t even take a decent mug shot,” Sicheng quips, unimpressed by the jumbled introduction. “It’s comes with being raised by a supermodel, mister Golden Boy.”

Jaehyun ducks his head, ears reddening at hearing the title from the magazine spread that had first labeled him with that term alongside Ten and Taeyong..

“By the way,” Ten butts in, sensing the budding tension between them and switching gears to another topic. “How’s your mother? I overhead Sicheng ranting to a Charm’s assistant that you two are going to attend the remainder of SFW?”

You glance at your brother in surprise.

“What? Since when?”

“Mom’s flying to France tomorrow but promised beforehand that she’d attend,” Sicheng answers in an explanatory manner. “So she tossed us out to the dogs to save her own trip from falling apart at the chase of paparazzi.”

“Why didn’t I find out earlier?”

“I forgot to tell you,” your brother shrugs. “Now you know.”

“You make it sound like your mother doesn’t care about you,” Jaehyun begins cautiously.

“My sister and I had to learn how to navigate the fashion world on our own since we were young,” Sicheng deadpans. “Having her name to use as a bonus point during our go-sees was already the best advantage we could ever get as rookies on the runway.”

“We all have our own stories, Jaehyun,” Ten fills in helpfully. “Sicheng’s not trying to snub you on purpose.”

“Sorry,” your brother mumbles after realizing he had perhaps stepped over the line. “Our family is complex and I don’t expect everyone to understand it from the get-go.”

“No worries,” Jaehyun nods. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

The conversation eventually dying down, Jaehyun finally meets your gaze head-on and smiles a dimpled smile that doesn’t quite mask his nervousness at talking with you.

“So, um… after the shows are all over… one of my friends is hosting a party at the end of the week and I was wondering if you’d like to come?”

Your mouth drops in surprise and Ten’s ears twitch at the mention of a party.

“What party?”

“Lucas crashed his dad’s yacht in the docks the other day and he’s… it’s so ridiculous, he’s hosting a farewell party for the totaled yacht.”

A snort leaves your mouth before you know it and Doyoung jumps in, eager to get in on a share of the pie.

“Listeners get an invite too, yeah?”

“Sure. Knowing Lucas, he won’t mind who shows up as long as somebody shows up.”

“I’d like to go,” you begin, looking at Sicheng. “Wanna go?”

“I’ll pass. I’m going to catch up on my games.”

You turn to Jaehyun, not sure how to phrase your impending question.

“Um, do you… do you know if…”

Ten coughs knowingly and asks your question without making it too obvious.

“The rest of the gang will be there too, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah…” Jaehyun begins counting off his fingers. “Me, you, Lucas, Taeyong, Mark’s a maybe, Johnny and Jungwoo have yet to RSVP but I’m sure they’ll end up saying yes…”

The answer more than satisfactory, you enthusiastically agree to show up at the farewell yacht party and ignore the quiet mumble of “shameless” from Sicheng, the thought of seeing Taeyong at the party happily bringing a skip to your step as you follow Ten around to talk to the designers preparing for this evening’s show.

—

The party was apparently invitation-only, but the host greets you with enthusiasm when you inform him that Jaehyun had told you about it. Yukhei (or Lucas as everyone called him) provided a bit of background for holding this party as he showed you around the enormous mansion that he called home, pumping a fist in the air to commemorate a year and two months with his father’s yacht before it died under his hands. The story more comical with his exaggerative reactions, you apologize for the crashed yacht on his behalf and he grins, deeming you cool enough to stay and exchanging numbers to invite you on future hangouts with him and the rest of the crew. As expected of the fourth Golden Boy in the quartet.

“Hey, hey, hey.”

You turn around at the base of the stairs connecting the upper and lower floors and smile widely.

“Johnny! How’s it going?”

Johnny takes your hand, kissing your fingers before breaking to a warm smile. 

“Good. How’ve you been?”

“Alright. By the way, I didn’t see you at SFW.”

A tale of miscommunication between his manager and the travel agency had apparently delayed his return to Seoul, and Johnny excuses himself briefly before returning with two glasses of champagne, the bubbly beverage tickling your stomach as you down half the glass in one gulp.

“You’re not cold?” he asks, taking in the olive-green romper and your most comfortable pair of block heel sandals. “It’s a bit chilly today.”

“I’m good. If I need extra clothes, I’m sure Lucas will be more than willing to lend me a hoodie to wear.”

Johnny suggests moving to the living room rather than lingering on the stairs and you nod, plenty of people already present, ifferent threads of conversation exchanged between groups of twos and threes. House staff zip through each small group to serve champagne and other bite-sized snacks; those who weren’t talking lounged on the couches with red cups in their hands. A few recognizable faces here and there, but otherwise you didn’t know anyone else at this party besides the fellow model that was Johnny Seo.

“Where’s Ten? Jaehyun said he’ll be here.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe in the pool out back? I haven’t gotten to mingle since I just got here twenty minutes before you did.”

You make a pit stop at the kitchens before heading out to the pool, dropping off your emptied glass of champagne and picking up another one from the refreshments table. The red cups on the side would do well for a mixed concoction later, which you make a mental note of as you maneuver around the mansion. Upon careful observation, the layout reminded you quite a bit of the place your mother owned in Vegas. Only difference here is that there were more girls in the hallways and almost all the rooms on the upper floors were already occupied with those hooking up or inhaling fumes of questionable scents that you weren’t interested in at all. No sign of Ten inside, so you suppose Johnny was right in that Ten might be in the pool out back after all.

Pulling open the glass door that led to the pool, you spot Ten and Doyoung by the chaise lounge chairs scattered around the bleached waters. Doyoung is the first to notice you via the champagne glass in hand and he raises his own when you approach them.

“When are the two of you ever not together?”

Ten grins and you take a sip of your champagne after clinking glasses with the two of them, the conversation drifting from details regarding Ten being the one who can’t seem to stay away from Doyoung to Ten daring Doyoung to cannonball into the pool since he was already perfectly prepared for a lap around with his swim trunks and conveniently waterproof navy tee.

“The water’s cold,” he complains. “I’m not going in even if I got paid to do it.”

“Join him,” Ten smirks, gesturing for you to make a lap as well.

“I’m not dressed properly but I’ll keep you company on the edge if you’d like,” you tell Doyoung, who grudgingly gives in as he takes off his tee and throws it smack at Ten’s face before heading for the pool. Groaning in frustration, he slides into the cold water and shouts profanities, raising a fist at Ten for convincing him to do such a thing.

“Make a lap around,” Ten yells from his lounge chair, adding a circling motion with his index finger for emphasis. “You’ll get warmed up that way.”

You giggle at their banter and take off your sandals, placing them to your left as you sit and dip your feet into the water, wiggling your toes at the cooling sensation.

“By the way, have you seen Taeyong?”

“Oh, sorry sweetie, he’s not coming,” Ten answers. “Said he’s helping his sister with some marketing decisions for her clothing line. Something about her not liking the model he suggested, I think.”

“Miyeon?” you ask with a sigh.

“Who else?”

Not answering the proposed rhetorical question, you kick aimlessly and nearly fall in at the sudden tap on your shoulder.

“Hi there.”

You look up, scooting over to give Jaehyun space. He leans back, arms taut at the edge of the pool while his legs splash at the water.

“How’s the water?”

“Alright,” you shrug. “But I’m not dressed properly for a swim.”

“I’m not either, but clearly we’re still able to enjoy the pool, yeah?”

You smile, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah.”

He grins in return, reaching his arms into the pool and splashing up water your way. A mini water fight commences and after five minutes you find yourself pulled into the pool after Jaehyun, fully soaked from head-to-toe as he circles around you in delight.

“Jung Jaehyun, I hope you know I didn’t bring a change of clothes!”

“Then I guess we’re both going to have to walk around soaking wet.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and head for the stepladder, pulling yourself out of the pool and squeezing water out of your hair while a towel drapes over your shoulders.

“Thought you might need this.”

You turn and open your arms, Ten squirming in distaste when you get water over his black tank top.

“Sometimes I’m too nice to you, sweetie.”

“You love me.”

Ten rolls his eyes and tosses another towel behind you, a soaked Jaehyun catching it with one hand.

“What happened to keeping Doyoung company by the pool?”

You smile awkwardly and Ten shakes his head. “Jaehyun distracted you, huh?”

“Knowing Doyoung, he’s found someone to chat up,” Jaehyun laughs, gesturing at the tall lanky figure sitting on a lounge chair on the opposite side of the pool. Engaged in an animated conversation with a girl in a navy bikini, it didn’t seem like he had regretted his decision to go for a swim as she pulls him up and they enter the water again.

“See?” Jaehyun reiterates. “He has a magnet to him.”

“You two should consider getting a change of clothes,” Ten suggests. “I’m heading in for another glass of champagne.”

“I actually have an extra set of clothes in my car,” Jaehyun offers. “How about it?”

You nod furiously, not wanting to remain in wet clothes.

“Yes, please.”

Weaving back inside and out to his white Ferrari parked two blocks away, he hands you a plain white tee when you reach his car, the dry shirt topped with a dark-green plaid button-up that was cut at the elbows, hemline likely long enough to cover your thighs.

“I only have one pair of jeans but I can call someone to bring you a pair of shorts or something?”

“That’s fine.”

He nods and unlocks the car so you can change inside.

“There’s a plastic bag in there somewhere for your wet dress, I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

The door closes and you quickly change out of your romper, careful to not drip too much water on the backseat while you look for a bag, Once you find one, you drop the wet garment inside and tie it shut. Pulling the clean shirt and plaid top over your chilled body, you note the sleeves stop at your forearms and the hem drops almost to your knees, almost but not quite there yet. As a model, you were taller than the average female, but still felt engulfed in Jaehyun’s clothes when he was only a few inches taller in height.

A knock sounds on the passenger side and you roll down the window, mumbling a thank you at the pair of shorts passed through and rolling the glass back up before changing into the bottoms that are just a bit loose.

“Do you maybe have a belt?” you ask curiously as you tuck the white tee into the shorts. “It’s a bit loose around my waist.”

“Should have one in the trunk,” Jaehyun replies, opening the trunk of his sports car. “Hold on.”

You wonder why he would have a belt of all things in his trunk, but gratefully take the given accessory as you loop it around your shorts and tighten the space around your waist.

“You look nice,” he speaks up, giving you a once-over. “Not saying you didn’t look nice in your own clothes, but you look…”

“What,” you probe on, noticing that he started to mumble. “Do I look ugly?”

“No, not at all,” he blurts. “You just… you look extra pretty wearing my clothes.”

“Oh.”

“Back to the pool or would you rather talk inside?” Jaehyun asks with a soft dimpled smile.

“Pool is fine,” you answer, feeling already much better after the disappointing news of Taeyong’s no-show. “Just don’t push me in this time.”

—

You don’t realize when you passed out, nose twitching at the smell of cigarette smoke drifting your way. The smoky scent is unpleasant to the nostrils as your eyes squint in the dimness of the room. Unable to make out anything in the first two seconds of consciousness, your arm grazes against the vibration of the mobile device that slipped out of your pocket, and you take a deep breath, forcing your eyes open to take the call.

“Hello? Oh, sorry, you’ve got the wrong number.”

Hanging up, you get up from the bed you were sleeping on and step out, head buzzing ferociously from the aftereffect of having consumed too much alcohol. It is 1am and the villa is void of human presence. The party must have ended earlier when you were knocked out, all the other guests already home at a reasonable hour to prepare for the following day’s work.  

“N-No, not there…”

The sound of soft moans accompanied with low grunts catches your attention. Against your better judgment, you make your way out to investigate, only to find the man you had been wanting to see entangled with some girl you didn’t recognize. Lips locked, one hand trailing through her blonde pixie cut… you slowly back up until he shifts his gaze from her face to your presence from his peripheral. A smirk builds upon the corners of his mouth and the hand in her hair trails down from her head to her hips, squeezing roughly while keeping a firm eye on you while still touching her. His teasing yet provocative gaze irritating to watch, you end up bumping into the host himself in your attempt to get away.

“Hey, you’re still here.”

“I’m sorry,” you smile, flustered at being practically the only guest still here. “I passed out and didn’t realize everyone else had already left.”

“It’s cool. Do you need a ride home?”

“Um, no, I don’t think so, I’ll just—”

“I’ll take her home.”

A flash of a figure whizzes past and you flinch at the hand resting on your shoulder, recognizing the thin fingers at first glance.

“Taeyong, you don’t…”

“That alright with you, Lucas?” The grip on your shoulder tightens and you allow yourself a glance at his face. Stoic as usual, albeit the glow along his cheeks spoke otherwise.

“Of course,” Lucas nods, flamboyantly gesturing towards the front door. “Lovely having you over, miss Y/N, and please get home safely.”

Once goodbyes are exchanged, Taeyong mumbles for you to follow, leading the way towards the black Lamborghini Aventador parked right outside the mansion’s driveway.

“After you.”

You nod in thanks at the opened door on the passenger side; he closes the door after you before getting into the driver’s seat. Seat belt check and he is already out on the streets, the ride home thick with silence. Not that you didn’t know what to say, but you’re careful to not bring up any sensitive topics, namely the girl you had seen him kissing or even Miyeon.

“This is it, yeah?”

You look up and see the familiar gates of your home, slightly disappointed that your time in his car is already over.

“Yes.”

A curt nod and he unbuckles his seat belt, getting out to open the door for you and even offering a hand as you step out.

“Taeyong, I thought you weren’t going to come to the party.”

“Changed my mind.” He pauses, glancing at the extended sleeves of Jaehyun’s dark green plaid top.

“Isn’t that Jaehyun’s shirt?”

“He let me borrow his clothes after pushing me into the pool.”

Taeyong nods warily and places a hand on the ceiling of his vehicle as he gestures at the looming estate up ahead.

“Why…” You bite your lips, not sure where your boldness was coming from. “Why did you choose to drive me back?”

“I found you passed out next to Ten and Doyoung when I got here at around…. 9pm? Moved you upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms but didn’t know when you’d come to so I stayed after everyone else left.”

“But the girl… you and her in the kitchen…”

“It’s nothing to be concerned about,” he says dismissively, “I have no business with her other than temporary fun at the spur of the moment.”

“Are… Are you still mad at me for your breakup with Miyeon?”

His eyes narrow at the abrupt question and you laugh it off.

“I must be drunk; I don’t know what came over me to ask such a—”

“Not anymore.”

You pause, and he coughs into his sleeve.

“I don’t… I don’t hate you for it when she was the one who jumped to conclusions.”

Gasping, you clasp your hands together and he studies your face in amusement.

“You thought I was mad at you?”

“I…  I thought that was why you kept giving me the cold shoulder! Because you were mad at me for causing the breakup between you and Miyeon!” Your giggles echoing in the silence of the night; what comes next is a surprise for you and Taeyong both as you lean forward to press your lips against his cheek.

“Thank you,” you whisper happily. “Thank you for not hating me.”

He dips his head low, eyes scanning over the dark green plaid top you were wearing.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You lift a hand goodbye, a growing smile playing along your lips as you return home for a well-deserved eight hours of sleep.

He never said he hated me, which I still have just as much of a chance as I did before.

Morning rolls in quicker than expected, and the first thing you see upon opening your eyes is a text message from none other than Taeyong himself, an invitation to his house for tea and maybe even dinner if you had the time.

“Don’t go.”

“Are you snooping through my phone again?” you ask, placing the black lace choker around your neck.

“He’s just using you to get back at her,” Sicheng scoffs as he picks through your closet. “Surely you know that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Not in the mood to press on, your brother sighs and gives his two cents on what to wear to an afternoon tea, opting for you to go in a light blue off-the-shoulder chambray dress and beige espadrilles.

“Bring me back a cake if you can.”

You shake your head. “Only if you come with.”

“Then no thanks. Have fun and don’t come into my room when you get back; I’m gaming.”

—

“Hey, it’s you!”

“Oh… hello,” you say in surprise at seeing the eager grin on Lucas’ face. “Are you here for tea?”

“Yeah, man.” He opens the door wider and helps you take your bag. “Taeyong’s sister makes the best cakes.”

“Oh, it’s Y/N!”

You find yourself in the company of Ten and Jaehyun, Johnny with the promise of arriving a.s.a.p. after a photoshoot and one of Lucas’ friends in lieu of Doyoung. Jungwoo, he said his name was.

“You came,” the familiar voice says as tea and a platter of bite-sized sandwiches is placed down on the table.

“Taeyong, where’s the cake stand?” Ten asks. “I want cake.”

“We’re making it, have some patience.”

You take a seat wherever there’s room (conveniently next to Jaehyun), and light conversation makes it way around the circle, topics ranging from Lucas’ farewell yacht party last night to the earlier Seoul Fashion Week. All items you can chime in on as the guys enjoy their tea and sandwiches while the tower of cakes was still m.i.a.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” you speak up. “I forgot to bring the clothes you lent me, I’ll get those back to you as soon as possible.”

“It’s cool,” Jaehyun smiles. “I’m in no rush to get them back.”

“What’s this clothes exchange?” Lucas smirks. “Jaehyun let you borrow his clothes?”

“Idiot shoved her into the pool and she had to get a change of clothes,” Ten explains. “Nothing like the sort of things your dirty mind was assuming.”

Slightly disappointed, Lucas shrugs and Jungwoo nearly chokes on his sandwich when Lucas not-so-subtly extends the offer to give you an exchange of clothes without needing to shove you into a pool. The innuendo easy to pick up, you shift your focus onto the half-empty cup of tea on your saucer and reach for the teapot when Jaehyun beats you to it, offering a dimpled smile as he refills your cup.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“No problem.”

“Cake! Cake!” Ten jumps up from his seat at the three-tier cake stand set down before him and grabs everything off the top tier, ignoring the scowls and murmurings of being a snob as he stuffs his face with the sweets he’d been craving for so long.

“Tart?”

You look up to the offered lemon tart and nod, mumbling thanks to Taeyong as he hands you a lemon tart along with a few of the strawberry macarons. One bite of each is enough to send you directly into pastry heaven, any concern about your calorie intake for the sake of dieting tossed out the window.

“It’s delicious, Taeyong.”

A rare smile lights up on his face, one you don’t see often. 

“I made that myself.”

“Did you now?” Ten marvels, grabbing another off the stand while at it. “I didn’t know you bake.”

“I’m working on it as an aside to my usual hobby of cooking,” Taeyong says while nibbling at a walnut scone.

“Nope, this is dry. The tart’s fine though, I hope?”

“Yes,” you confirm, Ten following suit. “It’s perfect.”

He clasps his hands and gets up without another word, sprinkling confusion into the circle before returning with a red box and placing it before you.

“What’s this?” you ask curiously.

“Open it,” Jungwoo encourages. “I think it’s moving.”

“Moving?”

The doorbell rings as you ponder over the box and in walks Johnny and Taeyong’s ex.

“Bumped into Miyeon on my way here and extended the tea invitation,” Johnny informs the host and his guests. “Don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Taeyong says crisply, shooting a more-than-enthusiastic grin at Miyeon. The model barely glances his way, mumbling brief greetings before taking note of your presence.

“Oh, hello, Y/N. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

You put on the best smile you had and nod.

“The feeling is mutual, Miyeon.”

“Tea and cakes are for the taking,” Ten breaks in, no doubt sensing the sudden tension and attempting to shoo it away for the sake of camaraderie. “And these pastries, Taeyong made them himself.”

“Still lacking,” Taeyong smiles, turning your way again. “And you haven’t opened my gift yet.”

“Oh, right.” You reach for the ribbon at the top and pull it off, opening the lid to reveal a small black kitten that is the most adorable little thing, its copper eyes staring curiously up at you before letting out a single meow.

“This one,” Taeyong wiggles a finger at the black kitten, “Was the last in its litter at a family friend’s place and she reminded me of the one Ten was working with at his photoshoot. You were there too, I recall.”

“Yes.” You gently scoop up the kitten from her box and gently scratch at her ears, the little feline purring in delight at your soft touch.

“Is this kitten… is it really for me?”

“She’s yours if you want her.”

You loosen your hold and watch as she clambers over laps, stopping before Jaehyun and batting tiny paws at his fingers before jumping onto the table with the teapot and cakes.

“Sicheng is going to love her.”

“What a nice gift,” Miyeon smiles curtly. “You’re so kind, Taeyong.”

He eyes Miyeon and leans over to take your hand in his, grasping your fingers tightly.

“Anything for my girlfriend, you know. Whatever she wants, she will get without question.”

—

In your head, you told yourself Taeyong called you his girlfriend because he genuinely liked you.

No one had been expecting it. Even now, you find it hard to believe the change in status for yourself whenever you received lavish gifts and invitations to join him and his friends plus other big names out for dinner or other social gatherings. The press had eaten it up like starved dogs, rapidly flashing their cameras while drilling you about the story of how you’d gotten together and other probing details about your relationship with him. There were only so many ways to say how grateful you were at having your feelings returned and describe how happy you had become since then, hence you’d offer only the most minimum of details whenever the topic was brought up.

Sicheng openly confronted the lack of care for your feelings upon first hearing the news, but dropped it at seeing the eager look on your face at any mention of Taeyong; the contents of the moving box you’d brought home proved useful to distract him instead. The kitten (given the name Luna courtesy of his not-so-hidden love for Sailor Moon) served as the perfect distraction from words of encouragement to break things off and you loved the adorable midnight munchkin to pieces. You hadn’t thought Taeyong would remember you had been there when Ten brought over the cat during his work.

Of course, not everyone let the announcement of your new relationship go that easily, the biggest protestor coming from none other than Jaehyun, whom you still owed the set of clothes you had borrowed during Lucas’ yacht party.

◇

“Hey, didn’t know you’d be here.”

Jaehyun looks from up the reserved table at the seafood restaurant and nods curtly.

“Ten invited me.”

“And so I did,” comes the jolly voice that follows the tap on your shoulder. “Is Taeyong joining you, sweetie?”

“He said he’s busy,” you answer. “Next time, though.”

“Order anything you’d like,” Ten announces as he flips open the menu. “My treat.”

“Whatever’s the most expensive then, since you’re paying.”

Throughout the meal, you notice Jaehyun’s aloofness doesn’t go away for a second. Only offering one-word responses whenever you asked him questions and even ignoring you altogether for Ten, the latter strapped in the middle with nowhere to go as he juggled between the two of you for the sake of preventing a fight from breaking out.

“Thanks for treating,” you say when the party of three finishes up. “The shrimp was really good.”

“Jaehyun recommended this place, so I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You glance at Jaehyun, who refuses to say a word until the outburst of Ten being late to an afternoon work call renders you losing the ride you had arrived with.

“Drive her back, will you? I’m going to be late for work at this rate.”

Silence resumes its hold and Ten waves goodbye without waiting for a reply, the awkwardness between you and Jaehyun prickling.

“Um… I can get back home myself if it’s too much trouble,” you speak up. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“I can drive you back,” he says crisply. “Come on.”

The valet brings forth Jaehyun’s white Ferrari after a moment’s notice and you get into the vehicle, nodding your thanks at his opening of the passenger side for you before he entered the driver’s seat and shifted gear, driving off with you in tow.

“So why the cold shoulder suddenly?”

“Not sure what you mean.” The car rolls to a stop at a red light and he turns to you with a rather forced smile. “I’m not being cold.”

“I thought we were friends, Jaehyun.”

The engine quiets down and Jaehyun scoffs.

“Friends don’t ignore genuine advice to wake up from the dream that is Taeyong actually liking you.”

“What is with—”

“He’s just using you to get back with Miyeon!” His hands slam down on the steering wheel, a heavy sigh echoing within the car. “Literally everyone knows he’s only using you to provoke her and it’s really—”

“They’re not together,” you intercept, voice lowered. “He told me so.”

“Men are liars, Y/N.”

“Are you saying you’re a liar then?”

Jaehyun glances at you with a pitied softness.

“I’m not as good as I want to be, but I’m trying.”

The light shifts to green and a revving engine takes off down the road, stopping once the gates of your mansion-sized home come into view.

“I hope you can find happiness with someone who genuinely cares about you, Y/N,” he finishes. “As a friend, I think that’s the least you deserve.”

—

Jaehyun’s words remain afloat in the sea of consciousness that is your fretting mind, and they don’t seem to relinquish their hold no matter how hard you try to dismiss it as pure paranoia. Every relationship has its ups and downs; it is simply a matter of willpower and active effort to communicate any troubles and work them out between the two of you. Taeyong wasn’t the most vocal person, but he still made efforts to make you happy with gifts and showed up to dates. You were happy when you got to spend time with him and made sure he knew it, mouth nearly aching from how widely you’d grin whenever he called and asked for you to go out with him. Surely he also felt the same with you if you were still together for so long.

But the nagging feeling always lingered in the back of your head, informing you that this was something too good to be true. That it wasn’t genuine, that you were only being used to get back at his ex… a part of your brain was so sure that this was all a hoax. Ongoing anxiety and paranoia had spun your feelings into a churning mess in your head that would eventually run rampage unless you rein it back into reality.

Which is why when you finally speak up about it one week after your three-month anniversary, you couldn’t fathom why you didn’t detect the burnt bits earlier when the entire pot had been bubbling incessantly the moment the course of things had been set into motion.

“Are you still in love with Kang Miyeon?”

Taeyong doesn’t look up from his phone, fingers tapping on the screen as the sales associate returns with two sets of suits. One a glen check while the other pinstripe, both are in the preferred shade of faded gray that he liked.

“Sir, perhaps these are more to your liking?”

A nod of approval at the sales associate’s question and he tucks his phone away without even sparing a second glance at the offered suits.

“I’ll take both.”

“Taeyong,” you persist. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s an irrelevant one that doesn’t deserve an answer.”

The sales associate stands still, unsure of how to deal with the impending argument until Taeyong gestures for her to ring him up. Tilting his head to show thanks while grabbing the paper bags off the counter, he pulls you after him with his free hand, leaving the store only to enter the one next door for “a more comfortable pair of shoes than boring black heels”.

“Try these,” he says, picking up a pair of brogues from the women’s section. “They look more comfortable than the ones you have on.”

“I… Taeyong, can you listen to me for once?”

“Excuse me, a pair of these for the lady and an extra bag to pack the heels. She’ll be walking out in the new ones.”

“Would you please just stop being such an asshole and let me speak!”

The outburst captures all noise from inside the store and silence lingers before Taeyong turns to you, expressionless as he leads you to an empty chair and take the high heels off your feet. Easing the brogues out of the box, he carefully slips them on for you and offers a hand, which you take before twirling slowly once you’re up from the seat.

“Better than the heels?” he asks quietly. “I can still return them if they don’t fit.”

“They fit,” you mumble, “And they’re more comfortable than the heels.”

A nod and he takes your shoes, thanking the staff for their service as he walks out with you in tow. No words are exchanged until you exit the mall and reach his car, the Aventador waiting underneath the shade of a tree in the parking lot.

“Are you still in love with Miyeon?”

“Yes.”

He opens the door for you and you get in, already expectant of such an answer. The fact that there wasn’t even an inch of hesitation after you finished your words was more than enough to confirm.

“Then why did you say I was your girlfriend that time she came over for tea?”

“I needed leverage.” The car backs out of its parked space and revs off, the rest of the world a blur through the glass at its speed. “I told everyone you were my girlfriend because I wanted her to see that breaking up with me was her loss.”

The word “leverage” a harsher reality than you’d expected, an unpleasant sensation churns at your stomach, traveling upwards to your chest as your hands unconsciously curl into fists during the ride. Not daring to look at Taeyong while he was driving, you keep your head down and it remains in that posture until you feel the softest tap on your shoulder.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I caused any misunderstandings. I know I took you out a few times and now all my friends are sure we’re an item, but—”

A misunderstanding would be the least of your troubles if you hadn’t already invested so much time and emotion into a relationship that only proved false in the end.

“N-No worries.”

“Are you sure?” Taeyong makes a left turn and glances at the mirror before switching to the right lane. “I mean, I can make it up to you.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, voice hardening. “I really shouldn’t have expected much when you’d never explicitly said anything about making things official between us.”

Spotting your brother’s hunched figure by the foot of the steps leading up to your family mansion’s front doors, you wait for the vehicle to come to a full stop before reaching for the handle of the door on the passenger’s side, only to pause as Taeyong unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches towards the backseat, grabbing the bag that held the shoes he had bought for you.

“Here. I hope you like the shoes I got you.”

You step out of the vehicle without taking them and he follows behind, concern rolling off his shoulders in waves.

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, forcing down the choked sobs that were threatening to spill any moment. “I just… I think I need to lie down.”

“Well, please take the shoes anyway. A token of my apology for not making things clear between us, if you will.”

He extends the shopping bag and you take it from him against your better judgment. A thin smile follows, the gesture revealing little about his true thoughts as per usual.

“Goodbye, Taeyong.”

Taking the cue to leave, he nods and hops back into his Lamborghini Aventador, engine revving as the black convertible speeds off into the distance. You don’t look back, and Sicheng stares in confusion at the sight of your figure approaching the gate.

“Luna, look who’s back early.”

Quick glances at the things in your hands and two fingers scratch behind the kitten’s right ear. “How was your date with Taeyong?”

The tears come rushing down your face like a waterfall, and Sicheng immediately helps you inside, placing Luna down and guiding you sit while he fishes a box of tissues from underneath the coffee table.

“What happened, why are you crying?”

You shake your head, heart aching at the reality of your utopia crumbling away from its high pedestal.

“I’m stupid.”

“What, no, you’re not stupid.”

“I’m stupid,” you repeat, sniffling through your tears. “I’m so stupid for realizing just now that everything was one-sided from the very beginning.”

—

You decide to stay away from Taeyong and the rest of his usual gang of friends, fearful of spontaneously breaking into tears at seeing any one of them when they reminded you of the one-sided love you had held onto for so long.

Jaehyun didn’t pry, only sending you a text promising that he was always available should you decide for company at any time of the day. Ten and Johnny were harder to avoid since you’d see them occasionally at studios and other sets for pictorials, so you gave a rather washed out lie of being busy with jobs as the primary reason for not hanging out. The same spiel was offered to Lucas whenever he offered invites to parties and casual drinks at the club. Only Sicheng knew why you were distancing yourself—as expected of your sibling—and you made him promise to keep quiet for your sake in case the others asked him about your sudden aloofness.

“Can you walk later?” he asks as he holds onto the dress for your final show of the fall season. “I can call in a sick day for you so management can find a replacement in time before eight.”

“I…” You yawn, fatigue coursing through your veins from having done three photoshoots since five am. “I can… I can do it.”

“Are you sure? Your eyes are droopy and I think it’ll be better for you to just take some time off rather than overwork as a coping mechanism for you-know-what.”

You shake your head, blowing your nose one last time and taking a deep breath.

“I… I’ll just rest now. It’s only seven, I can sneak in an hour of light sleep before doing the show.”

Sixty minutes pass in the blink of an eye and you now stare at your reflection in the mirror in the breakroom backstage of the runaway show you were scheduled for tonight, adjusting the sewn flowers by your shoulders. More red blossoms stitched at the bottom of the gown pool by your feet, the gradation from a nude coloration to blood-red a stunning sight to behold. The floral garment had walked down the runway in Toronto Fashion Week and was provided for the foliage theme of tonight’s show courtesy of your mother, who had pulled several strings to directly receive the piece from the designer himself. Although you weren’t too enthusiastic on the sheerness of the gown, you loved the way the red flowers adorned the bodice and added a blazing elegance to the nudity of the fabric, your stylist nearly weeping on the spot when the gown had been brought in for you to wear and her to work with. Pulling your hair up to let the flowers have room to shine, she then clips accessory pieces to your earlobes for added effect and touches up your eyes, giving you the okay before hurrying out to see when it is your turn to go.

“Y/N, they switched you from sixth to fourth! You’re up next!”

At the sound of the call, you shuffle out, heels clicking while you pick up the ends of the gown to not step on the fabric and tear a hole in the garment itself.

“Ten seconds, standby please!”

Poking your head out from the side, your eyes scan across those in the audience, catching Sicheng by the front with Ten and Johnny. Further down is Jaehyun and you manage to make momentary eye contact. He nods, offering a tiny wave before turning his head to the right at the arrival of Lucas and one more.

You freeze in place when you see Taeyong, blinking twice to make sure you weren’t seeing things.

What is he doing here?

You hear your name being called frantically and turn your attention back to the runway, apologizing for missing your cue. Taking a deep breath, you make your first steps down, lights flashing and camera shutters going off as you maintain your line of sight straight ahead. Audible murmurs of awe can be heard at the sheer gown you were wearing, the sewn-in red flowers swishing and swirling around your clicking heels. So far, so good. So far, so good.

Shifting a glance towards Sicheng’s side of the exhibition hall, you strike a pose and take your place at the center of the catwalk, lifting one end of the gown and preparing your final pose when your eyes catch Taeyong leaning in towards his left. A manicured hand covers her face, but you don’t even need to make a guess when there was only one woman in the world who can make him smile so genuinely like that.

What magic did she cast to get him to look at her and only her? What was it about her that made him never waver from her time and time again?

Mind blank, ears buzzing from the sound of frantically flashing cameras, reality becomes painful to perceive and you feel yourself wobbling in the black four-inch heels on your feet. Soft murmurs building with fear for your sudden show of imbalance, you shake your head and make your last mark on the runway, locking in eye contact with Taeyong as he studies you on the catwalk. Three seconds before he breaks the gaze to turn at Miyeon murmuring into his ear, smiling once more into whatever she had said to him.

That was perhaps when you’d finally had enough of this whole charade, the sharp intake of breath akin to a shrill scream on toppling off the runway. Consciousness slipping from your very reach, it is impossible to fathom that you had just fallen so cleanly off the catwalk you’d set foot on so many, many times before.

◇

“Oh, thank God she didn’t hit her head or damage anything too important.”

You blink your eyes open to the blinding white fluorescents above and wince at the aching pain by your right leg.

“Where…”

Sicheng quickly helps you sit up and rubs two fingers against his temple.

“The hospital. You fell off the runway.”

“Fell off?”

“I don’t know if it was the gown or what, but you fell off and—” He gestures at your completely bandaged right leg. “You were lucky Jaehyun was fast enough to break your fall.”

“Jaehyun… Jaehyun caught me?”

“Yup. He’s waiting outside with the rest of the gang right now.”

“Don’t let anyone in,” you blurt out. “It’s… embarrassing.”

“Mom was frantic when she heard about the fall. She threatened the paparazzi to leave or she’ll set their agencies on fire.”

A dry chuckle leaves your lips and you strain to move your legs, the left one just fine while the right one stung with an aching pain.

“Doctor said your right ankle is broken and there might be some other fractures from heavy force against the muscles,” Sicheng says as he offers you a glass of water, which you deny. “And Jaehyun told us he caught you before you hit your head but missed the timing of your legs toppling over the stage.

“Want me to tell him to come in? I think he’d like to know if he saved you from dying or not.”

“Alright.”

Your brother gets up and Jaehyun enters shortly after exchanging a quick nod with Sicheng, relief settling in his eyes when he sees you conscious and more-or-less in one piece.

“I heard you ran to save me,” you bring up, patting your right leg. “Thank you.”

“I’m only glad I was close enough from the runway,” he jokes, dimple carved into his left cheek. “Otherwise it would’ve been too late.”

“Is…”

“Taeyong was here for a bit before leaving to go home and report to his sister,” Jaehyun answers. “He offers his concerns and wishes you a speedy recovery.”

Your heart sinks at hearing the message and Jaehyun narrows his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you fell because of him.”

“No,” you lie, the memory of his intimacy with Miyeon a barb biting into your skin. “I think I just tripped on the gown. Believe it or not, these types of things happen to even the best of us.”

He drops the topic and eyes the glass of untouched water by the bedside table.

“You really should drink some water.”

“Fine, give it.” You grab the glass from him and take quiet sips, eventually finishing the entirety of the cup under Jaehyun’s supervision.

“Happy?”

“I’ll inform your mother that you’re awake and bring you some food. You’re probably hungry too.”

“Why… Why are you so nice to me?”

He smiles again, a tender gesture that hit too close for comfort.

“We’re friends and I care about you.”

“You… don’t have to be so kind when I had it coming.” The sniffles start up again and before long, trickling streams of tears drip onto the bedsheets. “I…”

Warm arms wrap around you securely and you rest your head against his neck, pouring out the feelings of agony and unrequited love for a man who had never once thought of you as anything more than a tool in his attempt to win back another woman’s heart.

“I loved him, Jaehyun,” you sob into his shoulder. “Why did I not see the signs earlier that he was only using me to win her back?”

◇

“How is she?”

Jaehyun looks up after closing the door behind him.

“You came back.”

Taeyong takes a step forward to enter the room but a firm hand stops him from advancing.

“She just fell asleep,” Jaehyun says quietly. “Leave her be.”

“I just want to see if she’s okay.”

The corners of his mouth twitch and Jaehyun jabs a finger at Taeyong’s shoulder, shoving the latter back.

“You are the last person allowed to say something like that after what happened to her.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Taeyong scowls. “I’m only—”

“My problem? You’re the one who took advantage of her feelings for your own selfish purposes!” Considering the location of the conversation, he lowers his volume before a nurse kicks them out from the hallway. “You treated her like one of your toys and now think you can swing by to ask how she’s doing after using her like that?”

“This is none of your business, Jaehyun.”

“It became my business when I saved her just in time after she fell off the runway. What were you doing back then, huh? Chatting it up with your ex?”

Taeyong falls silent and Jaehyun growls at the lack of a rebuttal.

“I figured.”

“Y/N is my friend too, Jaehyun.”

“If you considered her a friend, then you wouldn’t have manipulated her into thinking you and her were together just to get back with your ex! I know we’re friends and all, but you think you’re so great and almighty when you’re just a guy who can’t differentiate between people who are true to you with people who approach you just because of your background and looks. How is any of that fair to those around you, especially to those who love you?”

Taeyong purses his lips and Jaehyun crosses his arms.

“She genuinely loved you for you and you just trampled on her feelings like they were garbage.”

“I will come see her tomorrow to offer an apology.”

“No, you won't. You don’t have to give her false hope like that when she knows you’re not worth waiting for anymore.”

—

You spend the next six weeks and counting resting up in the hospital for the sake of your injured right leg, unable to walk and let alone work in any other events that had you in mind. Sicheng visited every single day along with Jaehyun and the two became fast friends because of it, juggling between keeping you company with getting to know each other better outside of the four white walls of the medical center. Ten occasionally dropped by amidst work and jokingly offered to keep your name alive if you ended up not being able to model anymore, but switched to a more serious tone the day he brought in the largest fruit basket you’d ever seen, giving his genuine conviction in a full recovery after your accident. Support from friends and family along with medical professionals guiding you every step of the way… the process was made more bearable and you found your leg growing stronger and able to withstand more weight with each consecutive day.

Taeyong didn’t visit much, but he was the last thing on your mind now, the puzzle pieces finally fitting into the picture of him never being interested in you that way at all.

“Look who I brought to visit you.”

You gasp and make grabbing motions at the cat in Jaehyun’s arms, now a little bigger but still as affectionate as it wiggled onto your lap.

“You’re not so small now, Luna!”

“She’s been eating more and growing quite a bit,” Jaehyun smiles. “And I snuck her in, so don’t tell the nurse you saw your cat today.”

The black feline purrs at the scratching behind her ears and you smile at the cuteness that is the midnight-colored Luna.

“Thank you for bringing her, Jaehyun.”

“How’s the leg? Easier to walk now, I hope?”

“I’ve been very diligently practicing with the staff,” you reply, patting the right-side of your hospital bed. “It’s only a matter of time before a full discharge, I think.”

“That’s great to hear and I’m happy for you.”

You pick up more to his words than what meets the eye and probe further until he cracks a dimpled smile.

“You seem happier now and I’m happy that you’re happy,” he says in earnest. “That’s all.”

“Do I?”

“You’re glowing brighter than ever before and it’s blinding.”

“Stop exaggerating,” you laugh, dismissing the cheesy words with a shake of your head. “I was never like that.”

“You were always the brightest star to me, especially so after what’s happened.

“I’ve said too much,” Jaehyun mumbles. “I gotta go.”

“Wait…”

He pauses midway of reaching for Luna, and you reluctantly hand over your cat, watching wistfully as he places her into the white carrying case he had brought her in.

“I just wanted to hold her a bit longer.”

“Maybe I can sneak her in again tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to that. And Jaehyun?”

“Yes?”

You take a deep breath and lean forward, dipping your head until your back is fully hunched over to show your sincerity.

“Thank you for visiting every day and giving me strength after my fall.”

“I won’t accept that because it’s what any decent human would do.

“Take care.”

You nod and give an extra wave to the carrying case as he leaves you to rest. Adjusting your position to lay down, you fold your hands over your stomach and gaze upwards at the ceiling.

“Am I imagining things or is Jaehyun even more weird than usual?”

As your thoughts simmer, the sharp vibration of your phone brings you back to reality. You reach over to pick up the call, puzzled at the sound of muffled speech through the other end of the line.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Buzzing and crackles tickle your ear and you’re halfway into hanging up when the high-pitched whine of your name stops you from pressing the button, an identifier for the unknown caller easily coming to mind when you’d been the subject of such whines so many times.

“Is this Taeyong?”

“BIIIINGO.” Slurred mumbling followed by another whine of your name keeps you on the line as you listen to the sound of clinking glasses mixed with low grunts—he was probably out drinking and had called you by mistake.

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, don’t! Don’t hang up, don’t hang up…” A groan and his voice drops to a low mutter, bordering on raspy as his words become less structured.

“I need…. Sorry.”

“What?”

“Sorry,” he repeats, three bubbly giggles and a hiccup. “Sorry to say… I’m sad.”

You sigh, not in the mood to keep him entertained over a booty call.

“I’m not in the mood for this.”

The whining only persists. “Please don’t hang up, please… Head hurts. Eyes hurt.”

“Call someone to pick you up, then.”

“Heart hurts… no help for that.”

A bud of panic settles in but before you can ask for elaboration, you hear one last groan and the phone line goes dead. He probably hung up without knowing he had pressed the end call button.

“Someone will help him,” you mutter, putting your phone away and pushing down the creeping buds of sympathy to go find Taeyong. “I can’t run over to pick him up when I’m in no condition to even walk properly.”

—

The calls from Taeyong become a regular occurrence that you keep hidden from Sicheng and Jaehyun, knowing full well they’d threaten him with force if they knew he was still contacting you after six plus weeks of not even stopping by to visit you at the hospital. Each time you’d press the button to shut off the ringtone the moment your screen lit up with the notification, only to have it ring again immediately with an incoming call from none other than yours truly. It got to the point where you figured you had to tell him in person that you were done being the subject of his pestering when he had never cared about you in the first place, and that is the first thing on your agenda once you receive an official discharge from the hospital.

“You couldn’t have told me or Jaehyun about it earlier?”

You ignore the eyerolls from Sicheng. “The two of you would’ve gone up to Taeyong and given him hell when he had nothing to do with my injury.

“Sicheng, you know where he is, don’t you?”

The answer is muttered grudgingly, but nonetheless given after a moment’s pause.

“… If you want to see him, you can probably find him wasted away at Club Cherry.”

“It’s barely 10am,” you point out. “What’s he doing already drunk at ten in the morning?”

“Don’t know and personally don’t care. I’m calling Jaehyun so he can go with you in case Taeyong tries anything funny.”

Jaehyun shows up in ten minutes, pulling up the hospital entrance in his familiar white Ferrari and beaming when he sees you standing on your feet again after being bedridden for the past six weeks.

“You look amazing.”

You smile and he helps you into the passenger side while waving goodbye to Sicheng, who grunts and waves him off before pulling out his phone to call for a cab to pick him up and take him home.

“Have you been keeping in touch with Taeyong?” you ask Jaehyun first-thing.

“Not too much,” he answers. “Why?”

“I want you to take me to Club Cherry. He… I want to see him.”

“See him… Y/N, he’s not worth it.”

You cross your arms. “Either you take me there or I’ll call Johnny to take me there.”

“I’ll take you,” Jaehyun sighs heavily, shifting gear to set the vehicle into drive. “Maybe it’s good that you’re dealing with this now instead of dragging it out.”

You have half a mind to ask for clarification but keep quiet during the ride from the hospital to the nightclub that is a favorite socializing spot of their gang, letting Jaehyun take the lead as he hands his keys to the valet and greets the bouncer at the front entrance. Let in without speaking more than the two words that granted entry into the exclusive club, he holds the door open while you hobble in. As expected of the early hour, the club is empty save the two staff members wiping down tables and sweeping the floor respectively.  

“Oh hey, Jaehyun!”

You follow Jaehyun towards the bartender, a youthful face sparked with relief and concern mixed in one as the two exchange handshakes.

“Who’s this?” he asks, warmly extending a hand over the counter.

“Mark, Y/N,” Jaehyun introduces. “Y/N, Mark. He works the bar here at Cherry but don’t be fooled. He actually owns the place.”  

Mark shakes his head and laughs it off.

“No, no, my dad owns the club. I just work here part-time while attending university to earn some extra money.”

“Basically yours in a matter of time,” you speak up. “Yes?”

“I guess you can say that.”

Jaehyun gets straight to the point once the conversation drifts into more comfortable waters.

“Did Taeyong come in today?”

“Sure did,” Mark replies, pointing at the hall where the private rooms were. “Came here at nine sharp and hauled in an entire crate of champagne bottles behind him.”

A disapproving sigh leaves Jaehyun’s mouth and you give Mark a tiny nod of thanks before following Jaehyun towards the private rooms, entering the first one of the left and covering a hand over your mouth at the sight of empty champagne bottles littering the floor. The wooden crate they came in still holding three more bottles of the like, you hurriedly take the remaining bottles to turn in to Mark at the bar while Jaehyun approaches the slumped figure on the purple couch.

“God, he looks like shit.”

You place the three champagne bottles out of reach and take in the slumped figure hugging a bottle in his arms, pity rolling off your shoulder in waves as you extend a hesitant arm to take away the untouched champagne.

“I’ll do it,” Jaehyun mumbles, gesturing for you to step back. “Taeyong is a handful when he’s wasted like this.”

At hearing his name, said drunkard somehow lifts his head up and squints before emitting loud giggles at seeing your face.

“You finally came to see me!”

“I didn’t want to,” you mutter. “But it’s hard not to when you look like this.”

“WhatdoyoumeanI’mfine.” Taeyong brushes off Jaehyun’s arm and stands up rather crookedly, pouting when you duck behind Jaehyun.

“Why, why, why no hug?”

“Can I talk to him alone?” you ask Jaehyun.

“I don’t know,” the latter begins, eyes flickering with uncertainty. “I wouldn’t trust him to not—”

“Please,” you insist. “It won’t take long.”

Jaehyun gives in, making you promise to call him if you needed reinforcements. You laugh, hooking pinkies with him as a promise before turning back to a giggly and flushed Taeyong.

“Let’s get you somewhat sobered up first.”

“No, let’s talk!” He makes a grab for your arm and manages to pull you down to the couch. “Sit here, sit!”

Sensing you wouldn’t be having much say in getting him to do what you wanted, you give in to his request but leave an arm’s reach of distance in between, brushing it off when he closes in the gap in a matter of seconds.

“What do you want to talk about, Taeyong?”

His lips pout and a whine follows.

“I’m sad.”

“Why are you sad?”

“Because…” Furrowed eyebrows and a sniffle pave way for divulgence of detail kept under wraps since you’d last seen him six plus week ago.

“Because I hurt you.”

You refute his claim. “Let’s get someone to bring you home, I—”

“Miyeon’s dating someone else.”

The outburst catching you by surprise, you simply stare and Taeyong continues, voice dropping to a hollowness you didn’t think you’d ever hear coming from his mouth.

“She was just… keeping me hopeful in case he wanted to break up with her.”

You bite back the retort of how great it was to have a taste of his own medicine and nod to show you were listening.

“Mhm.”

“I was so mad, Y/N. I went to her company to clear things up since she stopped answering my calls and I found her making out with some rising actor who’s currently recording a historical drama. So mad.”

“… That…”

“You know what’s more stupid?” A bubble of laughter and he sits back on the couch, arm slung over his eyes. “After that, I realized what she was doing to me was basically me doing the same to you, and… and wow.  

“You must hate me for being such an asshole,” he laughs, voice trembling as tears trickle down his reddened face. “A loser. I’m just a spoiled brat who… who can’t even treat people right and—”

“Stop.” You lean forward from your seat and wrap your arms around him. “You’re not a loser.”

He continues crying into your shoulder and you remain still, letting him get all his feelings out rather than continue drinking himself into oblivion.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles when you move your numb arms. “I’m so lonely here.”

“I actually came here to tell you to stop calling me,” you begin. “I…

“I came to visit you, did you know?”

You pause. “When?”

Taeyong hiccups and counts off on his fingers.

“One, two… five times. I never went when Sicheng or Jaehyun were there but I did go to see you at the hospital.”

“That…. That’s nice of you, but I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do… Do what?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Taeyong. I can’t keep holding on to this… whatever this is. I know you don’t like me and while I was hurt that you used me as leverage, now I know that I deserve better. I deserve to love and be loved by someone who cares about me, loves me, treats me as someone who is worth it and…

“That someone isn’t you. I thought it would be you but it was all just one-sided thinking from my part.”

“I know I treated you poorly before,” Taeyong rasps. “But don’t you think—”

“I think it’s time for me to move on,” you finish, letting go of him and standing up from your seat. “And I wish the same for you.”

“You won’t even give me a second chance?” His question echoes from the shell of a man broken, a man who had once offered his heart in its entirety only to have it returned in shattered pieces. “I… I wasn’t thinking properly, I…”

“You’re not sober.” Taking out your phone from your purse, you tap at the screen to send a text message. “I’ll contact your sister so she can come pick you up and bring you home.”

—

Work picks up once you re-enter the whirlwind that is the modeling industry, no doubt Sicheng and even your mother having played a significant part in getting you back in the favor of photographers and fashion designers to book you for photos and model new fashion lines for the upcoming season. No word of your fatal fall off the catwalk is mentioned by your colleagues, and even your manager takes care to keep your schedule less busy in case another incident occurs while you were on call for another job. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate more free time, but you wish you weren’t treated like a glass sculpture that could easily break with just one touch.

As you remain still while your makeup artist applies more eyeshadow on the lids, a sharp searing sensation pulses through your right leg and you wince, immediately garnering the attention of your manager and at least three other staff members who rush over to see if you were okay.

“I’m fine,” you say with a wave, “I can stand.”

“We can call it a day and resume tomorrow,” your manager tells you. “It’s not a problem.”

“I can stand,” you repeat with a slight roll of your eyes. “It was just a cramp.”

She backs off from pressing on about having you sit down and your makeup artist pulls up a chair for you to sit on, a gesture that only stoked the flames more as you refuse to sit while eyeliner works its magic to shaping your eyes into the sultry cat’s eye look today’s shoot called for.

“The dress is perfect.”

You turn around, smiling at the compliment. Ten whistles appreciatively at the black sleeveless velveteen dress that hugged close to your body, the coral pink flowers dotting the soft black fabric an unexpected splash of vibrancy that comes only second to the choker keyhole at your bosom.

“You like?”

“Sweetie, you look gorgeous. And that’s gorgeous with a capital G.”

“Why, thank you.”

You frown at seeing him still in casual clothes. “You’re not changed yet.”

“Ah, there was a change of my schedule, so I won’t be doing the photoshoot with you.” 

A buzz and he reaches into the pockets of his trousers, beaming as he turns to you with a smile.

“My replacement just got here, so—”

“Jaehyun?” you ask out of curiosity. “He has a nice face for modeling.”

“He’s okay, but you’ll know why I decided to choose who I chose to replace me for this one.” Without saying anything more, he ushers you to head out towards the hotel room for your pictures, waving quickly before turning tail to do whatever it was that demanded his time instead of taking photos with you.

Two knocks on the door and you’re greeted by a face you hadn’t been expecting to see at all, a face that offers a soft smile and brings back the slightest of tugs in your heart as he moves aside to let you in.

“Hello, Taeyong.”

He nods in greeting and scans over your dress, line of sight stopping at your shoes.

“You’re wearing the shoes I got you.”

You bite your lip and nod slowly.

“It doesn't mean anything. I just wore them because I wasn’t told I had to wear a specific type for today and…

“They’re comfortable,” you finish with a whisper. “A lot better than boring black heels.”

“I know,” he murmurs in reply. “You told me so when I picked them out at the store for you.”

“Places, everybody!”

Taeyong gestures towards the ensemble of staff setting up the cameras and offers a hand. “May I?”

Unsure if it was a pity gesture after your fall, you stare at the outstretched hand and find yourself taking it, letting him guide you towards the photographers even though you were capable of walking there on your own.

—

Taeyong is more skilled than you give credit for, naturally photogenic in each shot taken of him on the leather couch in the hotel room. Something as mundane as the everyday couch becomes an instrument in his filling in for Ten, giving the professional model a run for his money with the string of praise trickling from the photographer’s encouraging lips. New poses are suggested and lighting adjusted to better fit the mood for his batch of photos, you find yourself staring longer than you liked and nearly miss the cue to enter had Taeyong not gotten up from the couch, waving his hand in your face to check if you were okay.

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, not looking him in the eyes. “Let’s get on with it.”

You follow the cue to move towards the bed and unconsciously flinch when Taeyong sits down on the other side. Toppling to the side, you nearly fall off until an arm reaches out and hooks around your waist.

“I got you.”

Mumbling thanks, you inch away but the photographer calls for you to move back towards Taeyong. A tiny sigh escapes your parted mouth as you place your head against his shoulder, one frame captured. Intimacy welcomed, you do your best to keep it professional as Taeyong slings an arm over your left shoulder. His head tips toward you and you close your eyes in return. Not having to look at his face made things a little bit easier, your choice in turning your face to the side and averting eye contact to your hands or any other part of the body a smart one during the entire shoot.

Individual shots follow the paired ones and you watch as he changes out of the black top and red pants to a velveteen blue blazer and similarly dark-colored shorts, looking dapper despite—if your eyes weren’t deceiving you—the lack of a shirt underneath the buttoned garment. His gaze distant as he sits against the top of the cabinet, you slip behind to the computers and find the assistant scrolling through Taeyong’s other individual shots. The screen displaying a plethora of samples, a whispered request to the fumbling assistant who is just as amazed at speaking with a model grants you control of the mouse in a matter of seconds. While she mumbles about how Taeyong’s face is perfect for this shoot, you focus on studying the pictures and see clearly why Taeyong had been chosen as a substitute for Ten. His face is sculpted in such a way that it radiated beauty from practically all angles, and the gaze is the cherry on top that seals the deal. Darkened are his eyes, but they channel such a sultry yet melancholic undertone to portray an enhanced depth to the edginess on the surface. Editing effects such as blurs only enhance the beauty emitting from the man and you almost want to ask if the assistant can send you a few of the files after the photoshoot is over.

“Y/N, can you come in, please?”

You nod and the photographer directs you to stand behind Taeyong, close enough that you are pressed against his back while placing your chin onto his shoulder.

“You look as stiff as a cardboard. Place your left hand on his thigh if it helps to make you relax.”

“Go ahead,” Taeyong murmurs, tilting his neck. “I don’t mind.”

You hesitantly place your fingers on his thigh and the touch is electrifying. You immediately shrink away but find your hand held in place by another. Taeyong doesn’t say anything as he holds your hand, and you take a deep breath before pulling yourself together, regaining the initial requested posture and powering through the remainder of the shoot.

“And that’s a wrap, thank you. Anything else we will pick up starting tomorrow morning.”

“Have some time for a drink?” Taeyong asks you after the cameras are packed away.

“N-Not really, I—”

The look of dejection on his face changes your mind and you look away at his beaming grin, a light that tugs at your heartstrings as he eagerly pulls you after him. Out of the room and towards the elevators, then up three floors until the lift stops at number 8. Opening to the makings of a dimly-lit but welcoming bar, Taeyong picks a seat towards the left side of the counter.

“Here.”

He gestures for you to sit next to him as two dry martinis are placed before him.

“Cheers?”

Fingers gripping the martini glass, a quiet “Cheers” and you down the drink in nearly one go, wincing at the burning sensation at the back of your throat.

“Is there somewhere you need to go?”

“Well…” You ask the bartender for water. “I didn’t…. I didn’t actually want to get a drink with you.”

“Why not?”

The glass of water you requested clinks next to your emptied martini, and you opt to take a large sip of the liquid, not answering his question.

“I guess I don’t deserve anything more when I was the one who treated you like a toy.” A bitter chuckle and he calls for two more dry martinis.

“You can go. I’ve put the drinks under my tab.”

“… No, I’ll stay. I won’t need any more drinks, but I can stay and keep you company, if you’d like.”

True to your word, you stay with him for the remainder of the night at the bar without any more drops of alcohol in your system. You listen to him talk and hold rather engaging conversations regarding just about anything: the weather, the modeling industry, his sister’s business endeavors, favorite drinks…

“You’re so easy to talk to,” Taeyong mumbles as his head knocks onto your shoulder. “Great, just great.”

“So I’ve been told,” you laugh, beckoning for the bartender to take your credit card to pay for half a bottle of scotch’s worth of shots. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Then where am I supposed to take you?”

“He has a room here,” the bartender speaks up. “He drank himself to oblivion the other night and I had someone bring him up to the 4th floor. First door on the right-hand side.”

You thank the bartender for the helpful tip and somehow manage to get Taeyong up. Making your way towards the elevator, you keep one arm steadily wrapped around his waist so he didn’t fall, trudging to the elevator and descending from the 8th floor to four levels below.

“Where’s your room key, Taeyong?”

He mumbles an inaudible answer and you sigh before reaching a hand into his blazer, fingers interlacing around a rectangular card that you swipe at the door handle before placing it between your teeth. After helping him inside, you spit out the key, making sure he can sit upright on his own before informing your manager that you were with Taeyong. The request to extend the news to Taeyong’s sister is added less she worry about her brother’s whereabouts and safety at one in the morning.

“I should probably change out of this dress.”

Remembering the bartender had said that Taeyong visited the bar last night, you figure he’d have spare clothes in the closet and open the wardrobe. Taking your pick from the hangers of gray, blue, and the occasional white, you settle on a simple white button-up with a hemline that just barely reaches past your fingertips. The black dress is all but discarded after you toss the garment onto the single chair by the window.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

You turn around, pulling down the shirt to not flash anything inappropriate in his drunken state.

Taeyong sits at the corner of the bed, hands clasped together as he looks up at you.

“It’s cute,” he adds with a soft chuckle. “I like it.”

“You should take a shower,” you mumble, slinking behind the chair and taking refuge in the curtains. “You smell like booze.”

“Will you still be here after I shower?”

He takes your silence as a yes and gets up from the bed.

“Sit wherever you’d like. It’s cold by the window.”

You wait until he enters the bathroom to make a dash for the bed, pulling up the covers to cover up your bare legs as you make yourself comfortable. After standing for almost the whole day, it felt good to sit and rest your legs on a soft mattress, the sheer size of the room informing you that this floor can only be a luxury suite and higher since most of the doors you had passed in getting here were quite spaced apart.

“You can sleep there tonight.”

You break out of your thoughts and stare at the dripping wet hair and white bathrobe on the man who had booked this suite, not registering his words until he repeats it a second time.

“If I sleep here, then where will you sleep?”

“There’s a chair.” He pulls up another chair by the mahogany desk next to the television and moves it to your right side, sitting down cross-legged.

“You don’t need to do that for me.”

Moving the covers aside, you bend your legs and wince at the cramping sensation in your calves, a gesture that has Taeyong up on his feet in seconds.

“Are you okay, where does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you grumble. “It’s not like you were at fault for my fall off the catwalk.”

“Believe me, I would’ve done everything I could to prevent it from happening.”  

Displeasure sinks its claws into your calves and you force yourself up, only be pushed back down by Taeyong.

“Sleep,” he orders. “You must be tired after a long day.”

“I… Why do you even care when I’ve always been a nobody to you?”

“You’re not a nobody to me.”

The depth of the sentence leaves a lasting echo in the room and you stare at him wide-eyed.

“You’re not a nobody to me,” he repeats. “I admit that I shouldn’t have used you to get back at Miyeon, but I never thought you were a nobody to me.”

“You… You never told me.”

“I…” A scoff and he sits onto the chair next to you, head tilted back. “How was I supposed to say I didn’t think you were a nobody to me without sounding like a creep?”

“I loved you,” you say quietly. “Did you know that, at least?”

“…Yes.” He fidgets with his fingers; you can practically see him picking through word by word in his brain for a suitable reply. “But I didn’t act on it because I wasn’t sure if you liked me for me or for my money. So many people have approached me simply because of my background and nothing was ever genuine.

“You can imagine what that does to someone, can’t you? As bad as it sounds, it was just easier to give the cold shoulder and keep at a distance rather than go through the cycle of false hopes at meeting people who didn’t care about my money or my social status. I hardened my heart so I wouldn’t ever be fed lies and fake compliments again, but that ended up hurting you when you always valued me for me and not the things that I had to my name.”

Hypotheticals race through your head, scenarios of what could have been a loving relationship with Taeyong that only create more prickling holes in your heart. As if you hadn’t finished hurting from all the years of unrequited love, now you were faced with another reality, the reality of a relationship that never came to fruition due to failure at communicating your feelings in a way that didn’t evoke misunderstanding in either party.

There was no one to attribute fault to and call blame on; the timing just never came at an appropriate time. And as others had told you before, it would’ve hurt less to have known nothing would ever happen the moment you had felt something more for a man like Taeyong.

Untouchable, out-of-your-league, perhaps you had only been in love with the idea of loving Taeyong, an intangible conception of emotions that had brought you in an endless loop around the park until today. Today marking the day you finally found the exit out of the seemingly endless maze, a day holding so much more meaning than intended as you take a deep breath and prepare to say your final goodbye to a love that had kept you in its chains for so many years.

“Hey, Taeyong?”

“Hmm?”

You reach your arms up and pull him close, pressing your lips against his cheek one last time—a kiss just as soft as the first but harboring hints of a melancholic farewell rather than hope for a chance to start fresh from square one.  

[jamesnelsonart]

Batman: White Knight Review

Folks, I can’t always let you know when a comic is bad. I don’t have the energy. A lot of bad comics are created every day, and to catalogue the reasons why Action comics issue 724342 didn’t appeal to me would be an exercise in futility and pain. No, when I see a bad comic usually the most it’s guilty of is being boring or not making a lot of sense and maybe the art isn’t put together very well. So I just ignore said media if I don’t like it. Maybe I’ll joke about it a bit with friends, but why spend my life on such things? You already know where this shit is going-- I’m about to break my code here. Every now and then, I discover something uniquely bad. It’s bad in a way I never could have even considered. It’s bad in a way that demands my attention, and I simply have to think about it, and then share my pain with others. That comic book is Batman: White Knight, and boy does it blow.

It’s honestly hard to tell where to begin with this review because if you think about any bad part of this book for more than one minute you’ll immediately be reminded of another bad part that relates to the first bad part, and so on and so on. It’s an interconnected network of bad. A true spider web of shit, full of parts all intersecting into an intricately dumb design. A painstakingly-made pyramid of poop, with each brick being laid as the foundation for something even worse than what came before it. I suppose I should start with the premise and work my way down from there.

What if, and hear me out here, what if the Joker became a good guy? And Batman… get this… was a bad guy??????? That’s the whole gist of Batman: White Knight. The white knight in the title is Joker, because he is a very pale dude from that chemical bath he took in his origin story. So that’s the premise. You understand the title. Now usually in superhero comics a shake-up like this might last for about a year before a return to the status quo, but White Knight takes place in an alternate universe, so write/artist Sean Gordon Murphy has the opportunity to make some big changes that will stick since there’s no worry about it impacting the main DC universe. Characters have the potential to die for good or change permanently here, and with the idea of the Joker becoming good you could get a pretty wild story here with some twists and turns. So why the fuck does nothing happen in this story!? Oh sure, this is a comic so actions do indeed occur. Events take place across a series of panels as they do in all sequential storytelling… But damn, this comic is a whole lot of nothing! It positions itself as a big shakeup, Batman as you’ve never seen him before! Only, it isn’t. This story is the safest fucking thing I’ve read disguised as an edgy, you-didn’t-see-that-coming, no-one-is-safe story. In some ways it’s funny, kind of like that Joker. But the only joke here is that I wasted my time reading this shit.

The story starts with Batman pursuing the Joker in his Batmobile, causing tons of property damage and hurting some innocent bystanders. Nightwing and Barbara are with Batman and are upset that they can’t reel in his dangerous impulses. Batman chases the Joker into a pharmaceutical factory where the Joker does his Joker speech. You know the one. The speech every writer ever feels that they have to write for the Joker, as if it adds something to his character. The Joker speech basically has the Joker go on about how he and Batman are polar opposites blah blah blah and how the Joker, in his own twisted way, has some affection for Batman and then Batman will be like NO and punch him or something. Hey, subtext works a lot better when it, y’know, remains subtext and not outright actual text. So Batman gets real riled up here and force-feeds the Joker a ton of pills while someone films him doing this and posts it on the internet. This combination of pills makes the Joker not be psychotic anymore (this is dumb as hell, but the rest of the comic is way dumber so you’d be surprised how the lowered standards allowed me to just roll with this) So this Batman is a pretty rude guy, being down with needless violence, and about as smart as a sack or bricks, but it’s an alternate universe, right? Characters are supposed to be different. Yeah… about that-- when doing an alternate universe it helps to have your universe be well-defined. This is especially important if it’s already similar to the main DC universe. The reader is left unsure as to what has or hasn’t happened in the past. Did the Joker ever commit any mass murder in this timeline? We don’t really know. The Joker has had a lot of incarnations so it’s kind of important to know how evil he is if he’s gonna become a good guy. If he’s committed numerous atrocities then I can understand a lot of peoples’ skepticism to him being good guy. Or was he some guy throwing pies at peoples’ faces and defacing property? Already none of this shit makes any sense if you stop to think about it but I have to keep going or this review will never get around to bashing the important stuff, like everything else about this book.

So the Joker’s mental stability is restored (which somehow also changes his bleached-white skin and green hair back to normal, those pills must have been wild) and he becomes a super-genius and decides to fight Batman’s brutality, and by extension the Gotham Police Department’s brutality. He’s done telling jokes now, he’s now the Woker(ok he never gets called that, but it would’ve been funny if that happened). And with his genius intellect unrestricted by his unstable personality he is now free to… sue the city. Damn, that’s exciting. I feel I should stop here and say there’s a reason the Joker is a fairly static character, and that’s because he works perfectly fine as a clown with a Batman obsession who does crimes and has some good zingers. Those are the interesting things about him, so when you remove all of those traits you’re left with a pretty boring character. What is the Joker without any of his personality or Joker-ness? Just some guy. And that guy is the protagonist of the story now… great. The other characters don’t fare much better. They all act extremely stupid, wildly out-of-character, or perform actions that conflict with prior information the reader has been given about them. Batman does no detective work, largely having the plot fed to him by other characters and falling into every trap imaginable. He can only ever react to situations. Harvey Bullock is deriding Batman for brutalizing the Joker and seems very anti-police brutality, yet later is arresting a black activist, blatantly escalating a situation where there was no violence. Barbara Gordon is hanging out chatting with Mr. Freeze (who appears to be a nicer guy in this continuity) and spills the beans about her secret identity, then is shocked to realize that she’s been wearing her Batgirl costume, thus revealing her name! Why is she so dumb!? Why on earth would she want to talk to Mr. Freeze in her civilian identity, huh? They were in the Bat Cave when this happened, so suit or not, it’d be pretty obvious that the girl in the Bat Cave is Batgirl. What the fuck? See what I mean when I say it’s hard to know where to start and end with bashing this shit? I mean this was like a 2-panel thing. Everything leads into everything else because nothing was thought through or considered while writing this comic so events happen just because they have to in order to move events along, character motivation or personality be dammed. And what happens is… not much if you really analyze the sequence of events in the story. Joker gets better, sues the city, participates in a march against Police corruption/brutality and decides to run for mayor. Batman gets mad about this. Joker then discovers a slush fund that is used to repair all the damage Batman does to the city and exposes it to the public. As a mayoral candidate, Joker proposes using this slush fund to instead heavily arm the police. Doesn’t this kind of contradict his anti-police brutality sentiments by offering the department numerous tanks to drive around in? Ah, fuck it. I doubt any part of this is thought through or any narrative dissonance considered so I’ll just keep going. And that’s… all the Joker does. Well, he does do one more thing. He decides to start dating Harley Quinn. And if I’m gonna talk about the characters, I mean REALLY talk about the characters, I’m gonna have to talk about Harley Quinn. Or rather, the Harley Quinn…s. Plural.

I should preface this by saying it’s pretty clear Sean Gordon Murphy is a fan of Batman the Animated Series. It is good, so who can blame him? What gets weird is he inserts a ton of TAS-centric stuff into White Knight in a way that feels arrogant. He knows what is best for Batman, no one else. So why do I feel this way about his writing here? Because the Joker goes home and is greeted by a Harley Quinn who is like “Wow, can’t wait to have tons of sex and kill a ton of people with you again! My favorite hobbies are not wearing a lot of clothes, staying evil, and being an unpopular New 52 redesign!” Then the revelation comes, the OLD Harley Quinn shows up in her TAS jester outfit and derides the new one as a big tiddy bimbo (not joking about that, her dialogue is actually deriding her for having large breasts and not being a good role model lmao) and says that she will resume her relationship with the Joker now, because he respects women (you really gonna do Poison Ivy like that? Smh). As we all know, when you think an abusive partner has changed, you should definitely restart your relationship with them. This has never, ever backfired in the history of the universe. But back to the point-- in fairness the New 52 Harley did suck, but I don’t know why this whole thing is even in the story. Haha, I’m joking! I know why! It’s because Sean Gordon Murphy probably realized that he needed an antagonist to make some action happen because the story was clearly going nowhere! So the new, unpopular Harley goes off and swears she will return the Joker to his bad self, calling herself “Neo Joker”.  So how does someone with no resources or notable skills become the antagonist? Well don’t worry, the entire cast is very, very stupid and their agency is null and void, so if something needs to happen for this story to move along, it just happens.

Earlier in the story for the Joker to discover the slush fund he had to get the rest of the Batman rogues gallery to do it for him by stealing documents on it out of some building. How does he get every criminal in Gotham to do this for him? By inviting them all over and serving them drinks with bits of Clayface mixed in. You see, Joker used the Mad Hatter’s mind control tech on Clayface so it stands to reason that if you ate some of Clayface’s clay then the mind control would work on you by extension! It only sounds stupid because it IS stupid. I also gotta ask why the entire rogues gallery would accept drinks from the Joker… he’s kind of known for not playing well with others and, uh, frequently poisoning people. But again, these characters need to be dumb for the plot to happen. So Neo Joker discovers the control module thingy because the Joker just left it around (I assume the mind-controlled villains were just shitting their pants in the days leading up to this since they were all stored in a warehouse) so now she gets a villain army. And then she gets a giant freeze gun to use on Gotham City because in this universe Mr. Freeze’s dad was an ex-Nazi who came to America and built that and left it underground. No maintenance required after sitting around for decades, this baby’s ready to blast! So while all that was happening Batman went to jail, Joker let him out to help him with dealing with Neo Joker, and Alfred died. That might sound like things that happened, but let me be clear: nothing happened. Nothing happens this whole comic. Things appear to happen, but that is not the case, that is camouflage. Sure, Alfred dies, but Mr. Freeze starts helping Bruce, so one old man is replaced with another. Actually this is an upgrade, Mr. Freeze knows way more science shit so this new model is great! Batman is finally jailed for flaunting the law but then Joker releases him and reveals that he found out that Batman had been paying for the property damage fund, not the taxpayers! So Batman was a good guy all along! He was just being a brutal dick because Alfred was dying so it’s all in the past now. So if Batman was good all along then what was the fucking point of this comic? The premise is good Joker vs. evil Batman, until it isn’t. What was the point of ANY of the first part of this dumb ass book? But the reader isn’t supposed to think about that. To distract from the fact that there was apparently no conflict at all the Neo Joker starts making threats with her big freeze gun and villain army. So Good Batman and Good Joker gotta team up with the militarized police force to take her down! Yeehaw! But. There is a catch. The Joker’s mixture of meds is wearing off and he will revert soon! The classic ticking clock scenario—as bad as everything is, this should at least inject some tension into the story, right? Wrong. Joker reverts while he’s in the Batmobile with Batman, and then he’s like “I still wanna defeat Neo Joker for stealing my shtick.” So don’t worry, he’s still on your side, Batman. I’m kind of impressed that Sean Gordon Murphy took such an easy opportunity to add some stakes to this bland comic and was like NAHHH, FUCK THAT, I LIKE MY COMICS BAD. So the police ram the villain army with their tanks and uhhh not all of Batman’s villains have super powers you know… some are just regular-ass people. The Penguin gets fucking hit head-on with one of the tanks, how the hell did HE not die? Plus they’re all mind-controlled in the first place so that raises ethical questions as to how they’re being treated since they’re not willfully being evil right now but BATMAN IS GOOD OKAY? HE PAID FOR THE PROPERTY DAMAGE FUND SO IF HE SPLITS SOME FUCKIN SKULLS THAT’S JUST WHAT HE’S GOTTA DO YOU LITTLE BIIIIIIIIIITCH. DUE PROCESS… IS FOR CUCKS. YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO DIE at this point in the comic I guess. Yawn… so at this point I think they all win or whatever. The freeze ray is stopped or something. Look, this part is kind of a blur. All you gotta know is Harley marries the Joker before he totally, totally reverts for real this time and gets sent back to Arkham. Then the dumbest thing Sean Gordon Murphy has ever written happens. And I read this book, so know that I do not say that lightly.

Near the start of the comic when Batman force-feeds Joker the pills it’s stated that this was all part of Joker’s master plan to get Batman to feed him pills that he just somehow knew would cure him and this would trigger Joker’s ultimate plan of… revealing the misallocation of taxpayer dollars? And he came up with this when he was still a bad guy, right? Huh? Well guess what, fuckos? It’s time for a fucking twist. Turns out the original Harley Quinn, who is Good and Pure and Keeps Her Clothes on except when I, Sean Gordon Murphy, draw her and the Joker fucking, is the one who planted the pills at that scene, as she reveals to Batman. Mind. Blown. No, really, my mind is blown as to why Sean thought this would add anything to his comic aside from more questions regarding the logistics of how she did that. How did she know which factory Batman would chase the Joker into at the start? How did she know Batman would force-feed the pills to the Joker? You’re not really a master planner if your plan relies on a ton of variables way out of your control. Then Batman is then like “wow that’s cool that you did that. this is why I always liked you more than the rest of my rogues gallery because I know you can do good things.” Yeah that’s right FUCK YOU Two-Face. Burned-ass bitch. You think YOU were the friend-turned-enemy who Batman hopes will one day turn good again? Wrong. It’s Harley. It’s ALWAYS been Harley. Then Batman reveals his secret identity to Commissioner Gordon and says he’s gonna be a cop in a blatant sequel hook. The threat of a sequel to this is scarier than any cliffhanger. Brr!

Ughhh, and you KNOW there’s gonna be a sequel, too. This can’t just end here. When I said I had to review this comic it was because most of the reviews say shit like “a bold new direction with a much-beloved property… DC, please don’t revoke my blog’s access.” This book demands a thrashing. It deserves to get laughed at, but everywhere I looked online people weren’t laughing. There was praise! Now look, Sean can draw a pretty picture so he has that going for him. And he’s also willing to kiss up to ComicsGate, a hate group populated by unskilled whiners, so that they’ll waste their money buying his bad book with pseudo-progressive politics. But I’m not here to insult Sean Gordon Murphy. This is a review, and I pledge to keep it focused on the comic. It would be unprofessional and rude to call Sean a gutless coward, or a worm, or a hack writer who just throws references around to create the illusion of lore, or a guy who condescends to trans writers and artist who get harassed daily about how they should just befriend their harassers, or a guy who thinks his inability to stick to a narrative theme makes his work deeper, or a guy who shits on indie creators in interviews because he works on Batman and they do not. No, that would all be mean to say, so you won’t hear me saying it.

I will give the comic this much, though. If you enjoyed All-Star Batman and Robin for how absolutely wacky it was, this book might be right up your alley. It fulfills that same feeling of viewing every panel and going “What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK???” So if you like bad books, this book is for you.

[belongingseeker]

Kylo Ren and Psychological Projection

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo is without a doubt my favorite Star Wars character to date. The fact that Adam Driver, who has serious acting chops and the face of a Greek God, is playing him, doesn't hurt either. However, it is Kylo's duality and strong emotions that really draw me to him. I have noticed that one of his character traits is to say to others what he really means to say to himself. The psychological term for this is "projecting". I looked up psychological projection on Wikipedia and this is what I found:

Projection was conceptualized by Sigmund Freud. Freud considered that, in projection, thoughts, motivations, desires, and feelings that cannot be accepted as one's own are dealt with by being placed in the outside world and attributed to someone else.  Essentially, it means that a perceived personal inferiority is recognized as a perceived moral deficiency in someone else.

I have noticed several instances in TFA and TLJ where Kylo projects his issues onto others rather than facing them himself. He is a master, in fact, when it comes to projecting his shortcomings onto others but not so skilled with looking inward. Carl Jung states through his research that the darker side of one's personality is more prone to psychological projection.  Since Kylo identifies strongly with his shadow self, he is in possession of a well-fed ego and thus uses projection as an unconscious coping mechanism to helps him to avoid pain and emotional discomfort.

Here are the instances where I believe that Kylo was projecting his own insecurities onto others. Feel free to comment on others or to add any observations:

To Rey in TFA (interrogation scene): "You're so lonely, so afraid to leave."

Rey is indeed lonely and afraid to leave Jakku, but Kylo identifies with her so strongly here because he too is desperately lonely and afraid to leave the First Order. He is petrified to admit this to himself, because it means that most of his life has been a mistake.  He blames Luke for what he perceives as forcing his hand into choosing a life of darkness.  As Rey tells Luke in The Last Jedi, “You failed him by thinking his choice was made.  It wasn’t.”

To Rey and Finn in TFA (forest scene): "Han Solo can't save you."

I always found this line to be a bit perplexing. Was he talking only to Rey or to Rey and Finn together? Han only knew Rey and Finn for a short time and Han's main purpose in coming to SKB was to disable it and to bring Ben home. Finn was the one who was really focused on saving Rey. However, when you think about this line with the lens that dear Kylo is projecting, it makes perfect sense. He believes that because he has killed his father, he is beyond saving and can fully commit to the dark side and thus be free of his conflict, pain, and suffering.  Kylo feels he is a lost soul but admitting that to himself would be too painful...it is much easier to rub salt in the wounds of Finn and Rey.  He believes that no one is going to save him and no one can save him, especially not his father, so it is up to Kylo to save himself by severing his emotional connections.  However, killing his father and thus attempting to kill the past and free himself of pain does quite the opposite.  It “splits his spirit to the bone” and heaps even more pain and regret onto an already conflicted Kylo.

To Finn in TFA (forest scene): "Traitor!"

Kylo has just killed his father. He is reeling and feels more torn apart than ever. He has betrayed "the truth that is his family" because he believes that his family betrayed him. When he screams the word "traitor", he does it with so much rage and anger. It is a bit jarring in the context of the film; does he even know Finn or care that much about one storm trooper? However, when you consider that he himself is feeling like a traitor to all parts of himself, it makes much more sense. The traitor here is Kylo. He believes that he is:

A traitor to the Jedi order for his massacre of Luke’s academy (although we don’t know the details of this until TLJ).

A traitor to The First Order because he felt FN2187’s conflict on Jakku but did act.

A traitor to his own dark side because he killed Han, which should have cemented his turn to the dark side, yet he feels more torn apart than ever. From TFA novelization:  “Stunned by his own actions, Kyo Ren fell to his knees. Following through on the act ought to have made him stronger, a part of him believed. Instead, he found himself weakend.”

A traitor to his own light side because he murdered his own father in cold blood.  

To Rey in TLJ (force bond): "Your parents threw you away like garbage but you can’t stop needing them.  It’s your greatest weakness."

Kylo feels that his parents prioritized the cause of the resistance over him and then threw him away to train with his Uncle Luke because they didn’t know how to “fix” him.  He believes that his family thinks of him as a monster who needs to be disposed of.  He longs for acceptance and love from his family but he represses these deep feelings of need.  Instead, he uses his feelings of loss adn abandonment to justify his decisions and to fuel his rage and sadness.  He perceives needing his family as a weakness in himself that must be destroyed. 

To Rey in TLJ (hut scene): "You're not alone."

This moment is so critical for Kylo's redemption because he shows empathy and compassion toward Rey.  He is projecting here because he, too, feels alone but it is very difficult for him to admit that to himself and to Rey.  He is so drawn to and enamored of Rey because he relates to her insecurities and fears on a deep level.  She is literally his other half, the female representation of his unconscious feminine self.  When Rey returns his sentiments, she validates his feelings by telling him that he is not alone either and it allows him to begin to admit to himself that maybe it is not too late and there may be chance for belonging.

To Rey in TLJ (Snoke's chambers): "No, no, you're still holding on! Let go!"

When Kylo begins to realize that Rey is going to reject his proposal to "Rule together and bring a new order to the galaxy", he starts to lose his shit. He admonishes Rey for holding onto her ideologies and being unable to let go of her past. However, it is Kylo himself who is holding onto his anger and hurt. In fact, moments after Kylo tells Rey to "Let go!", she literally admits to herself and Kylo the truth about her family. Kylo, on the other hand, is a hot mess moments later when he see the Falcon and Luke on Crait. Kylo is really the one who needs to make peace with the past and move on rather than holding onto the Kylo Ren persona as a way to avoid and escape the past.

To Rey in TLJ (Snoke's chambers): "You're nothing. But not to me."

This one is so heartbreaking. Even though Kylo is telling Rey she is nothing, I think what he really means to say is "I am nothing but please tell me that I am not nothing to you." When Kylo said, "You're nothing" to Rey, it made no sense, because whenever he gazes at her he looks like he is deep in love. Rey is clearly not nothing to him; she is in fact everything. He tells her she is nothing because he is scared to death of rejection, so instead projects his own feelings of inferiority (I'm nothing) onto Rey.

Thank you so much for reading this post!

[chicagoindiecritics]

New Written Review from Mike Crowley on You’ll Probably Agree: What it was like returning to the theater to see “Inception” and what theaters will look like after the pandemic

SKIP TO THE FIFTH PARAGRAPH FOR MY THEATRICAL EXPERIENCE

I had my doubts if Christopher Nolan was the true authoritarian on demanding “Tenet’s” release. I know he has enormous power in Hollywood, but was he wielding it like a selfish dictator? A man of his intellect couldn’t be narrow-minded enough to refuse to delay his film until it’s safe to show in theaters, right? About 70 films have been pushed to the fall, next year, or placed on streaming. James Bond, Christopher Nolan’s childhood hero, was even forced back to a November release date. A November release date in which, like many, is viewed to be moved until things are safe. After seeing the promotional materials for the 10th anniversary 70mm print of “Inception,” there’s absolutely no doubt that Nolan is entirely hell-bent on releasing his film only in theaters. To see these promotional materials, I couldn’t access them online. At least not by any legal means. Much like his iMax previews to his last four films, it was mandatory to watch them in the cinema.

Attached were two reels. One was a 10-minute preview for “Tenet.” After that was a 2-3 minute look back on “Inception.” In both shows, Christopher Nolan makes it crystal clear that his films are intended to be seen on the biggest screen possible with the loudest speakers surrounding the audience. On the “Inception” reel, Nolan expressed his disappointment that there are those who couldn’t see his 2010 film in a theatre, so here was their chance to do so. The problem is from my understanding is that the 70mm print of “Inception” that I viewed is the only available one in the United States. I know that when they filmed the sizzle for these movies, Nolan couldn’t have predicted such a global catastrophe. I feel incredibly fortunate to have seen “Inception” on  70mm film when initially I saw it on a generic digital 35mm reprint in a theatre that wasn’t a lover of cinema like The Music Box Theatre in Chicago is.

But even before the Pandemic, how many people would get access to this print other than iMax cinemas? How long could iMax last? Most of the country has switched to digital. Celluloid has become a novelty that I will always prefer over digital, a uniqueness that appeals to a very niche audience. How would that be profitable in the long run? Now with the COVID-19 Pandemic, that novelty will probably die forever. It was probably going to die anyway, just not this fast. 

To make a movie on film is far more costly than to use digital. Not only do you shoot the movie, but you must also send it to a lab to develop the print afterward. The chemical emulsion process is an expensive mechanism. Shooting on digital only requires a memory card or hard drive that you can directly dump the data onto another hard drive to start editing immediately on a computer. It’s cost and time efficiency towers over film. The theatrical distribution model is a dying breed, only left alive through purists like Mr. Nolan. His purity may be going a bit too far, however. It was only a matter of time before iMax would once more be something that was only used for nature and space films to be seen in a museum. 

Walking into a theatre once more felt like going into a gallery. I can happily make it very clear that The Music Box Theatre is not taking this Pandemic lightly. Instructions weren’t given to me; they were borderline shouted.

-Theatre Attendant: Have you been here since we reopened?

-Me: Uh, I was here before.

-Theatre Attendant: NO! Have you been here on JULY 3rd SINCE WE REOPENED? 

-Me: No

The attendant proceeded to provide me with the social distance seating protocol. He ended the briefing with “that’s it.” I almost expected him to say, “dismissed.” Usually, I would have been taken back by such an aggressive custom. Considering the unprecedented circumstances we all are in, I respected the young man’s sternness. I was picturing all the morons he had to deal with that didn’t follow proper instructions. People who ignored the blue “do not sit here” taped signs, took their masks off when not using a concession—pulling their phones out during the movie. Let alone, coughing or sneezing without their face cover. With 745 available seats, only 50 were free to use. People were spread exponentially more than 6 feet apart. In the row next to me, there were two young ladies. One of them was politely holding in her cough. Her mask was still on before the lights dimmed. During my state of alarm, I knew it was only a matter of time before one cough might slip out. Trying to mean no offense, I quietly sneaked towards the nearest row of the screen.   

The woman’s coughing wasn’t the only reason I sat in the semi front row; I was also wearing glasses, whereas you may know, masks and glasses don’t make the best mix. If I was close enough to the screen, I can take my fogged up glasses off and still clearly see what was going on the screen. That mostly worked, but my natural eyesight couldn’t substitute for my assisted one. And boy did those glasses get foggy. I increasingly grew jealous of those that could tolerate contact lenses. Even worse were people with perfect vision. I had to limit my breathing during the film because every natural exhale felt like a steam pipe was being burst onto my eyes.

With me, I came equipped with two masks. The medical kind you see everyone wearing, and a cloth one. Both were on at the same time. In my pocket was a bottle of hand sanitizer for whenever I touched a surface. I heard that COVID doesn’t last on surfaces, but I’ve listened to the CDC change their minds before. My paranoia level varied. Once comfortably watching the film from a safe distance with my double-layered mask, I felt secure. The Music Box has been open for long enough since the Pandemic. I haven’t heard of any cases appearing within their establishment. They’re not like some local restaurants or bars I saw in Wisconsin during my vacation there who acted like everything was normal. With that said, you can’t control the actions of others. 

Let me be clear that I never removed my mask once during the entire three hours I was in that theatre. While the movie played, I turned around to see if my fellow patrons were applying the same amount of caution that I was. In the beginning, everyone was covered up during the pre-roll “Tenet” adds. The rule in the theatre was that once seated, you can only remove your mask when eating or drinking, then immediately put it back on. This rule was announced by the man I spoke to earlier, where he took the stage before the film began. There was no way you could claim you were unaware of the safety guidelines. Of course, Americans had to act like Americans. Once the film started after the promos, everyone’s masks were off. At one point during the movie, that lady who I moved away from that was coughing, yup, one cough slipped out. Luckily I was about 50 feet away from her while looking like Shredder with my extra protection. Throughout the rest of the film, I didn’t hear a single cough or sneeze. How did the movie look on its correct format though? Spectacular. 

Christoper Nolan may be a stubborn stick in the mud, but my God is he right when it comes to the beauty of the theatrical experience. The black levels in the colors are vibrant far beyond anything you’ll get on your 4K 60-inch television; the sound is bone shatteringly clear. Every nuanced detail in the phenomenal production design is visible to an otherwise naked eye; this is something special. “Inception” is a bombastic operatic picture in the very best sense of the meaning. My appreciation for the 2010 spy thriller was improved when seeing it on the big screen. Even with my fogged up glasses and short breaths, I felt like it was an experience worth having. To have that experience though you really, REALLY, have to love film. The common man would not go to the trouble I did to see a movie that they can easily watch at home. 

Seeing “Inception” in a nearly abandoned theatre that still classifies as sold out was a bit of a relic. I felt like the little kid in “The Last Action Hero” walking into the old man’s theatre. I’m experiencing something from a great past time that no longer exists. It was like going to the Omnimax Theatre in the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry. Only this time, there was an inherent fear of disease, which luckily rapidly dissipated once there. I sympathize entirely with Christopher Nolan’s stone wall decision on maintaining a theatrical release for “Tenet.” He doesn’t have the power alone to release the film, whichever way he sees fit. Warner Bros is in the same boat as him. Nolan was the man who brought Batman back from the dead. He’s the one man in Hollywood who can sell an original big-budget picture on his name alone. Chris brought Warner Bros a lot of money.

The theatre is located upstairs

The termination of the Paramount decree’s 72-year law is the final nail in our current chain’s coffin. Movies won’t be evenly distributed. All of our existing theatrical establishments are running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to make their money back to the point of offering 15 cents per movie ticket upon initial reopening. When theaters do come back, they’ll be rebuilt, owned by the studios that distribute them. You’ll have your Disney theatre attached to your Disney store. Watch “Spider-Man Homecoming 3” on the second floor, then buy your Spider-Man toy on the first floor. Go to your Netflix theatre so you can see a film four months before it hits streaming. Finally, go to a Warner Bros theatre in Six Flags Great America, where you can watch Matt Reeves’ “The Batman.” Then buy your Robert Pattinson caped crusader doll when exiting the show. The funeral is in procession for theaters as we know it. Christopher Nolan may be able to make movies on film throughout the rest of his career, but to see them on celluloid; you’ll have to go to a museum or a specialty theatre like The Music Box. Such a realization is a heartbreaking reality. The sooner we can accept it, the better off we’ll be.

More of my thoughts on the future of movie theaters can be seen below.  

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[charlenelouise-gdc]

Personal Practice:

Ambiguous storytelling and Consumption: Music Video Culture in K-pop

K-Pop is known for its distinct visual aesthetic: rich in colour and larger than life sets, all captured in dynamic camera work; it’s mainly used to house the idol group’s choreography (another key feature of the genre). On a much broader general rule, it’s purpose is to show off the group (both in talents and looks) and their current concept or theme - a storyline or narrative is usually not a priority. Over all it’s there to be pleasing to the eyes.

However, when they have a narrative involved, they have an interesting approach. In these narrative led music videos, what you’ll find is that they are often told loosely or ambiguous in its telling. This technique is much more prominent in longer projects, when they bear more resemblance to short films in terms of structure.

Since K-Pop groups have a lot of members, they often allocate them different stories; either one per member or shared between 2/3 (playing various characters in the same storyline). The stories are then told side by side with each other, overlapping across the various narratives. After all, the project is seen holistically and aims to serve one group - therefore, existing in the same universe. It’s usual length is approximately 10 minutes; the varying storylines only show the most significant beats of the narrative, with very little development in between. A good example of this is BTS’ “Love Yourself” Highlight Reel (as seen above). This was released in preparation for the release of the album and the narratives the members follow are inspired by the songs.

Although the narrative approach can be more compelling as it provides more than just visual aesthetics, this particular style of storytelling can be difficult or confusing to watch. The multiple narrative structure they follow so they can cater to all members can potentially leave viewers empty. Since the different storylines are strung together in a short time frame, it doesn’t give enough room for each story to full develop and can be quite vague. As a whole, there’s a lot to achieve in such a limited amount of time.

However, despite its ambiguity, this is what makes them the most intriguing. Even though the storylines are not developed or shown in great detail, the vagueness leaves room for the imagination. In a way, this deliberate creative choice creates a new way of consuming film. Knowing the fan culture that revolves around K-Pop and the way it is powered by that very force, the vague gaps allows them to participate in the story. This is evidenced by the original content fans produce based around the film. In a more conventional form, this can be seen through fan-fiction where they generate new stories based on the narrative or information given in the film/music video. In a more casual approach, they create their own “theories” and discuss possible meanings within their communities, found in threads across twitter to tumblr. Both ways are clear attempts to fill in the gaps; ways which successfully breathes new life into the project. Arguably, taking “user generated content” into a new level.

This ambiguous approach isn’t the typical way of communicating stories - certainly not in the west. We’re accustomed to stories going from A to B; with a beginning, middle and end. With this method, it deviates from the standard dialogue around film: “here’s a story, you consume”. Instead, it asks: “here’s a story, what else could it possibly be?”. There’s this beautiful give and take relationship between the audience and the content. As the film provides enough structure by showing the stories’ significant points, they are free to make the story their own. This method gives you the liberty to fill in the rest, like sentences waiting to be completed; a direct invitation to take part in the narrative. As a result, the audience isn’t just a passive viewer, but an active consumer.

On the other hand, this is very different to film consumption elsewhere within the film or music video landscape. Audience participation is evidenced mainly through reviews and comments; the general conversation around it is often about whether it’s “good or not”, as well as critique based on the creative choices around it. User generated content based on them are additional features, instead of being part of the culture. Regardless, the film is usually consumed as a whole and seen as a whole, as intended with full acceptance. In contrast, the technique popularised in K-pop music videos is fragmented; it can’t be seen as a whole due to its ambiguous style. In a way, it rethinks the way film can be consumed and perhaps proposes new ways. Some of the best viewing experience I had as a consumer is when the story is left on a cliff hanger or when the plot requires a bit more thinking. The vague plot found in their narrative led music videos is reminiscent of that feeling. It keeps you guessing. It keeps you on your toes. It keeps you curious. You guess. You add. You anticipate. It’s an exciting way to be an audience.  

Another way this technique is effectively used is in BoA’s music video for “Disturbance”. Interestingly, this was released in 2013, much earlier than my earlier example. Again, this music video is narrative led. However, in this case, SM entertainment created 2 additional music videos to support the main narrative in the original. Through this, fans then can choose which storyline they would like to follow to end the narrative in the main (they are provided with one with a happy ending and one with a sad ending). As shown, the filmmakers truly understand the consumer music video culture in K-pop, especially the active participation it encouraged. In this case, they take it one step further by actively providing choices, directly requesting its viewers to fully participate in the story. Ultimately, elevating the viewing experience.

“Let time go by” ending below...

“Go back to the past” ending below...

Overall, it would be insufficient to simplify this technique as mere “fan service”; a marketing technique to increase more investment into the musicians which music videos/films are for. By evaluating the way these media types are consumed, we can see clear evidence that so much care or thought is put into those who’s actually consuming the story and how they are invested in it. We cannot overlook the positive ways this has in film consumption. Through this method, the audience is actively engaging with the content; they are treated with their own sense of agency. In turn, a relationship between the content and the consumer is formed. Moreover, they are treated as equals creatively; they’re invited to create their own art based on the narrative. All in all, this makes this specific branch of the music video or film landscape unique as it revolutionises the way films can be seen.

[twylaymaa727-blog]

We describe the PC game Grand Theft Auto VC

Last year, Grand Theft Auto III took the world in surprise. While the first two games in the chain had a small, hard-core monitor, their basic 2D artwork and lack of a focused narrative structure control the request. On the other hand, GTA3 featured a massive, clockwork world which was really remarkable to consider, and it refined its predecessors' free-roaming, nonlinear layout also swollen a far more compelling story in the process. Those improvements, coupled with amazing vehicle physics, a bombshell amount of class in the gameplay, also a great perception of cut, made Grand Theft Auto III a fugitive hit and one in the extraordinary match that happens acknowledged by both great and relaxed game players similar. But as good as GTA III is, the next game in the sequence, Grand Theft Auto VC, improves after it. Vice City expands on the designs and strategies found in Grand Theft Auto 3, fixes some of the teenager issues in the last game, then adds many new powers and items to tease with. It all comes together to form one of the most stylish and most enjoyable games ever released.

The new Grand Theft Auto game is set in a fictional take on Miami, Florida, known as Vice City. The season is 1986, and Tommy Vercetti say now happened announced by jail after accomplish a 15-year stretch to the mob. The mob--more particularly, the Forelli family--appreciates Tommy's refusal to cry in exchange for a lower sentence, so they send him into Vice City to launch some fresh business. Tommy's first sequence of subject with Vice City is to gain a greater amount of cocaine to operate with. But Tommy's first drug trade goes sour, causing him without money, no cocaine, and no idea which wronged him. The mafia is, naturally, angry on the entire situation, now Tommy has to make up with the decline before the gangsters come down from Liberty City to clean in the mess. As Tommy, you'll surprise the investigation, decide that flew people down, take care of responsibility, also create store with Vice City in the big, big way. Oh, and you'll and make taxis, get involved in a turf battle between Cubans along with the Haitians, befriend a Scottish rock group named Love Fist, become a pizza delivery boy, smash up the local mall, demolish a form to real estate prices, hook up with a biker gang, run an adult film studio, remove a level, and much, much more.

While Grand Theft Auto has become a violent, mature-themed series, it has always calculated the chaotic crime with an total volume of tongue-in-cheek humor with cut. Vice City is no different, providing the exaggerated picture in the 1980s that makes use of many the loud pop-culture stereotypes found in tape with television from the decade. The drug-laced tale recalls such records as Scarface and tv program like Miami Vice. The comedy comes mainly from the radio, that really gets home the type of form-over-function mentality which many people link with the '80s. Some of the game's main characters are a spring of comic relief, in the Jim Bakker-like Pastor Richards to the Steven Spielberg-like porn director Steve Scott. The playoffs large cast of appeals is interesting and remarkable. For example, local drug kingpin Ricardo Diaz is always hilariously breaking something and cursing wildly each time anyone eventually tell him. Ken Rosenberg is the fidgety coke-fiend lawyer pal, next he receives you started in area by getting you connected with the city's key players. Lance Vance, appropriately said by Miami Vice alum Philip Michael Thomas, becomes your associate of persons, as both of you chase vengeance for your own reasons. Your Cuban gang contact, Umberto Robina, is regularly reminding you how much of a man he is, and most of the Cuban team members you'll face are likewise inclined.

Stylistically, the game shows an exact description of your normal '80s crime saga. Like here Miami Vice, many of the identities are wearing pastel becomes. The game's vehicles and right the tab, with a lot of basic sedans combined at home with vehicles which aspect enough like Porsches, Lamborghinis, and Ferraris to leave behind to the real thing. Nothing in the vehicles are passed, of course, though in the good touch, some of the cars are earlier models of vehicles which happened in Grand Theft Auto 3. Fans of the past game can undoubtedly appreciate little stuff like this also one other occasional ties on the earth of GTA3, that really help this another Grand Theft Auto game feel like part of a consistent universe.

As large as the game's presentation and using its foundation ideas survive, without a collection of gameplay improvements, that would experience lived little more than a mission group with a touch-up work. But Rockstar North has definitely been tough at work in this field. The most obvious addition is the inclusion of types of motorcycles among the many cars on the road. There's a decent variety of two-wheelers from the game, including mopeds, street bikes, dirt bikes, and massive hogs. As you'd think, the cycles feel a lot differently in one another. Your basic street bike is a good mix of fly with maneuverability. The immense choppers are harder to drive, yet give ludicrous top speeds. You'll get tossed off a motorcycle in virtually any impact, which costs you a small amount of strength or armor. That gets them pretty much useless in any situation that interests dodging the police. But they're incredibly handy in any vision that demands speed, with since you can influence a lot of fancy tricks on them, they're also many fun to drive around.

You'll also perform bit of rushing into Vice City. Like go through a number of major piece points, you'll available the western half of Vice City, which is locked apart on the dawn due to hurricane warnings. After that, you'll encounter vision to let anyone escape a seaplane around the city. You'll also get a few different helicopters here and there. Travel throughout the city is attractive impressive, and it show off the playoffs engine quite well--you may visit for miles when you're up inside air. While some of the city's skyscrapers are extremely tall to get on top of, you can settle the choppers in most from the game's buildings. Expect to find a few of the game's hidden items stashed away into these forms of difficult-to-reach areas.

Some new person cases have been included in the game as well. Pressing L3 will lock Tommy in a crouched put. That permits people suffer cover behind reasons and looks up the speed accuracy. You can also dive out of step vehicles, which helpful for ditching cars or bikes to the ocean, escaping a shed vehicle, or just ramming empty cars in different vehicles for kicks. Like wrecking a bike, bailing from a car causes some bodily harm. You can and enter certain buildings now. While the interior situations are few in number and mainly extraneous, they stare good and are used to effectively create a city that's more realistic than Grand Theft Auto III's Liberty City. You'll be able to go into your hotel then run right upstairs to help ones bedroom. You can also get into a nightclub, a reel club, the Vice City mall, and a few other buildings. There are load times associated with entering certain buildings, but they're pretty simple.

Many of the game's story missions are more involved than those associated with GTAIII. GTA 3 had many missions where you needed to get great before bring someone somewhere and return to your reward. You can get those types of assignment with Vice City, yet many of the novel game's missions are multiple-part business which include more than now shift by heart A to position B and then to spot A. Some positions are basic extensions, like because possibly having to break a respray look after moving a job. But, other missions are more required also involve the use of more-advanced strategies. For order, one mission requires you to hide a bomb in the mall that takes place swarming with cops. To do so, you'll first have to get a miniature heat chasing after you. You'll then direct the cops into a garage, where you'll ambush them also haul one of their standards so you can pose as a cop, which makes stepping into the heavily guarded mall possible. After you've taken trouble of company at the mall, you'll then should escape and get all the way time for the hideout.

The objective live fortunate designed for the most position. The noticeably longer average mission length is great, even if this could become a supply of unexpected frustration, since failure in a mission means having to replay every piece until you have it right. Moving back to a quest district becomes easier than ever before, even though. In GTAIII, you'd restart in a clinic or watch station and be compelled to bargain a car and hightail it back to a quest area, which could take a Grand Theft Auto Episodes from Liberty City Download while. Wearing Vice City, a cab appears close your respawn stage, with, instead of a tiny price, it will need people back to the last mission briefing question you visited. Unfortunately, since you're generally going to want to pick up some section along with several armor before heading back into most missions, you'll even have to get up to the local Ammu-Nation opening. This would have become fine if you could have treated the cab to handle this phase of the development as well. At any rate, while the game definitely has the portion of difficult missions, the average mission difficulty looks a level or two easier with Vice City than in GTA III, and so you ought to have to repeat too many missions too often. Though, overall, Vice City's amount of sweat is a lot like which with the earlier game, because of increased tenacity on the part of the police of their hard work to help impede you.

Alongside the cash to the missions themselves, the game's mission design is sweet different from that of the earlier GTA match. In prior installments, you were given a pretty clear-cut path to follow--you could have had multiple mission choices at any present period, and you consistently knew just what to do then plus for who. With Vice City, you'll spend the first piece from the game undertaking vision for people, much like in GTA3. But once the city is yours, you'll be working for yourself, going and go on your safety racket into collection and identifying yourself as the town's new boss.

Eventually, you'll even be able to go out with hold various properties, that begins up another missions. For example, when you buy the taxi company, you'll open up a series of taxi-related vision to occur separate through the edge missions to you can handle by entering any taxi. Once you've achieved a property's missions, to property may launch making money for you. This information means that money eventually turns into a nonissue--as it should be for any self-respecting crime lord--since your various properties will also have some cash for you. All you need to do is run around to all advisors with gather from time to time. There are several other properties to purchase, including the film studio, the Malibu Stick, with a car dealership. All the secondary-mission types from Grand Theft Auto 3 have returned, like as vigilante missions, taxi missions, fire truck vision, and ambulance missions. New to Vice City is the ability to do on a special type of scooter and transport pizza. Pizza is given while in motion using the same mechanics you'd normally work for drive-by shootings, only in this case you throw pizza pies on customers.

While the inspection in Vice City is mostly the same as which of Grand Theft Auto 3, the trading of the game's various cars feels really different, because game's frequent driving sequences seem much more exciting and dangerous. Perhaps in part due to the adjustment of point period, a lot of the cars feel a lot looser on the road and manage to find hit in a good bit easier. This presents much on the game the form of car-flipping, explosion-filled quality you'd expect via a great instance in the A-Team. And when you consider the new ability for you--or other in-game characters--to burst out tires, handling becomes an even bigger question. Cars with blown tires are really hard to control, making car chases to very much tougher when you have a flat (or many). And as if cars weren't dangerous enough, a motorcycle with a blown wheel is nearly useless, as it usually spins exposed next puts people over the handlebars whenever you try and attain any significant speed. One of the tougher vision gives people trying to get a cycle with even tires returning to a motorcycle bar while remaining pursued by angry thugs.

Cars split apart in an even more spectacular fashion now around. Along with holding away tires, you can hit up cars with your melee weapons now. Reaching winning and caving in a car's hood with your baseball bat is usually a good way to make the tenants to quit the vehicle in a hurry. You can also run out car windows and even hit the people inside car with your shots. That becomes an enormous difference when it comes to taking away cars, as you can now aim at the rolls to slow down the vehicle down and then take away the drivers with a well-placed rifle shot.

As revealed, the police have become a much more powerful risk than they were in Grand Theft Auto 3, especially since they have the ability to get the wheels about your own getaway car. Attempting to jump in a auto then run off the picture of an crime usually gives the cops enough time to take out among the wheels. In higher levels of response, the police force set up spike strips to take off every the tires. Of course, they'll and set up standard roadblocks also act all of the things the Grand Theft Auto 3 cops did, including ignore most common traffic violations. Though, in Vice City, stirring up a serious ruckus will get both the rob and the FBI in the situation. Helicopters will also chase after you. This time in, SWAT players will in fact rappel out of the helicopters, making them more dangerous. If you can manage to get a good shot with a chopper's cockpit, although, you can rent one overcome with individual strike. On the supreme level of law enforcement answer, the multitude once again rolls tanks on the street, doing your own chance of success slim. All this means that, as in GTAIII, many encounters with the conviction with Vice City can be extremely exciting. Yet, one mark for the police record is the fact that the policemen still do not deal with elevation changes remarkably so. If you come across a square garage then effect the first or back ground, the police officer aren't wise enough to get the system around deal with you. They'll even hold firing in your general direction, even though there are several blocks with ceilings between a person along with the specialists. But you'll encounter such a thing really rarely amidst many, many wonderful and powerful chases and shoot-outs.

While there are a lot other systems in Vice City, the free arsenal gets really changed that significantly overall. The most obvious additions are in the melee weapon department--or, somewhat, the hardware department. You can visit a hardware collection and grab a screwdriver, a strike, a trusty baseball bat, or a machete. You'll and learn other melee weapons in different measurement on the city. Knocking the course, for example, gets it easy to find a golf club. You can also make a chainsaw, which is large with principle, but surprisingly unsatisfying in action. Weapons are destroyed upward in another styles. Your main attack rifle will be a Ruger, but later on you'll manage to obtain the M16. You can have one weapon in each grade, so picking winning an M16 can return the Ruger, getting a golf club can change your baseball bat, and so on. The choice of weapons closely mirrors GTA3's set, only now with more types of pistols, submachine guns, rifles, shotguns, sniper firearms, and confused explosives.

You'll work your way upward from central weapons up to deadlier versions. For example, the Tec-9 is a good submachine gun, but later on you'll be able to obtain a MP5K, that includes a much faster measure of passion. Later still, you'll be able to wield rocket launchers, a flamethrower, an M60 machine gun, or even a Gatling gun. Different weapons have different weights, and your movement rate may suffering from the bat you're holding. Wielding a gun or a submachine gun lets you throw at full speed. Busting away the shotgun or rifle prevents people through sprinting, but you may move normally. Also the deep weapons cause you to land around slowly. The ending system by GTA 3 has been reworked a bit for Vice City, making it easier to target opponents and house the video camera by obtaining too crazy when you're locked on a goal.

Vice City also increases on GTA 3 graphically. The only trouble with the image is the body rate's movement toward bog down after you've grew a mess of law swarming all over you, doing escape to very much harder. But considering that problem is no worse in Vice City than it had been during Grand Theft Auto 3, and that the game looks a good bit better overall than Grand Theft Auto III, it's not really a huge deal. The entire glimpse on the game is quite different from their predecessor overall, but technically, that modern Grand Theft Auto game owns a radically cleaner appearance. The character examples become superior gaze, and the animation--some of it reused from GTA3--looks great. Some of the highlights include jacking a bike in the top, which affects Tommy to complete a wing jump end that beats the condition dust away the bike. Jack a cycle in the wall, with misery give the elbow to the look with the condition.

The draw distance is a lot farther away this time about as well, meaning you can see a greater distance down the road than you can in GTA 3. This is even more apparent when you're flying high preceding the city and can see most the way across to the new part of it. But you'll still see when simply driving in the street, especially when you give up a cause car and watch this cruise off outside with its. Outside which, the playoffs surfaces are lively with bright, properly considering what '80s-era Miami should look like. Nearby shops are mixed with neon that glows nicely at night. You'll also see whole lot of large little touches, such as the flicker of sunshine down the openings of community cars.

GTA 3's sound played a crucial cut with establishing the tone to the overall game. The voice acting used throughout the history segments effectively shared the offense lie, and the air offered the soundtrack to go with the action. Vice City's sound is a dramatic increase on GTAIII's already amazing good. The sport cast is top-notch. The main variance from the words run becomes which, unlike in GTA III, the advanced spirit in Vice City speaks. Tommy Vercetti's expression is given by Ray Liotta (Blow, Muppets By Area), who does an excellent post of produce the character to life. The rest of the voice talent--which includes Gary Busey, Dennis Hopper, David Paymer, Danny Trejo, Luis Guzman, Philip Michael Thomas, and retired adult film actress Jenna Jameson--also does a very good post. The playoffs positive effects are top-notch. Everything from explosions to gunfire just sounds outstanding.

The radio classes with Vice City are extremely well done. The '80s music found on the posts really helps settled on the tone to the entire game. You'll find plenty of

[mangokiwitropicalswirl]

Gillovny and Buyer’s Remorse

I don’t know if this is necessary or even helpful. We probably don’t need anymore voices weighing in on the state of things in the fandom, so if you’re sick of things and want to look past this, please do. If you venture below the cut, please take this in the spirit you know I intend it -- as a longtime X Files fan with a sometimes-too-soft heart that was weaned on MSR yearning, but who is also striving for a clear-eyed grasp of reality. Here goes:

 Since the events of last October, we have had two stark options. 1. To believe that G and D were in a romantic relationship that had come to an abrupt end sometime in September (factoring in Chicago Con, Schmoopie shirts and kind comments about “new incarnation of friendship” uttered at cons early last fall).  Or, option 2. To accept that what we saw, read and observed between D and G over the preceding 2 (3?) years was literally nothing more than their typical handsy BFF behavior and a liberal dose of fandom trolling.

Many people were easily able to accept option #2 and move on. Others felt that option #1 might have been the case, and if so, well, earlier behavior on twitter was understandably coming to an end.

But Option #1 didn’t really bear out as we observed a few continued playful interactions between G and D on twitter and nothing but positives on Ds end when he spoke about her at a con in January. And then came the Webby’s, which put to rest any idea that there might have been an acrimonious breakup of any kind.

Which circles us all back to option #2. Which is where we are today.

I see a lot of posts claiming that Gillovny fans are “angry” at G for her trolling of fans throughout the past couple years, but I haven’t seen much of that anger. What has been hard to stomach for those of us who have been slow to accept Option #2, is the accusation that I am somehow “not happy for Gillian” because she isn’t “dating who I want.”

This is ridiculous.

Of course I am happy if G is happy. Who she dates is something I have absolutely no control over, nor would I want to. She obviously knows herself, knows what she needs from a relationship, and has her own history with men to work with. I -- and I dare say, none of the folks who shipped Gillovny -- would never suggest that I somehow know better for her than she knows for herself.

And yet, we’re stuck with feelings. Lots of feelings. And I have been trying to pin down the nature of those feelings a little more precisely. It’s not anger, because that would assume there was something to be angry about. And it’s not sadness, because again, why should I be sad if Gillian is happy?

No, the feeling I am feeling is a very serious and intense case of buyer’s remorse.

Because I. Fucking. Bought it.

I bought into the Gillovny ship big time. It honestly was part of what brought me back into the fandom because, lord knows, the narrative of two old sometimes-at-odds costars now blissfully happy to be together (in whatever form) was a damn better narrative than ANYTHING written in season 10. And here’s the crux:

I bought into the Gillovny ship because it was being sold to me. They sold the ever-loving shit out of it for several years.

Some people will say we should not have bought it, that Gillian always maintained it was a game, that David tried to sternly shut it down numerous times. But to say we shouldn’t have bought it is sort of like saying to a person during the subprime mortgage crisis that they shouldn't have taken the stupidly low mortgage rate on a beautiful house that’s sitting right in front of them. Gillovny was sitting right in front of us. It was set up for us to buy into.

And even though occasionally a realtor might pipe up and remind you, “Hey this house has kind of a shaky foundation, perhaps don't buy it,” we did anyway. I bought it. This gorgeous newly renovated Victorian with the wraparound porch and a pool in the back where you can swim all day in your red speedos.

Why did we do this? Mostly, because we LOVE watching them together. The intensity of their smiles at one another could power the fuel needs of a small country. It was the sight of them together that powered us through more than a few (cough *half* cough) lackluster seasons and films of a weird, incoherent show about aliens.

Don’t mishear me, either. I don’t mean to imply that there is NOTHING between D and G. There is obviously a shit ton of chemistry and a lot of affection. That is REAL. It always has been. What I’m talking about is the Gillovny narrative and how far it was teased and toyed with, which is something altogether different.

But now, we look back on this house that we bought, this narrative, and we realize there's never been a foundation. We bought the big beautiful house at the persuasion of the delightful realtors, and now we are left trying to figure out how to pay for it all emotionally.

And our friends down the street who (wisely) never made a down payment on the house, are laughing at us, telling us to grab our stuff and MOVE THE FUCK OUT when we are still enamored of the beauty of the place. We took out a 23-year mortgage and now we’re underwater. It’s hard to just pick up and move.

Not only that, from the moment of Gillian holding up the Duchovny jersey at the 2015 TCAs to the August 2016 Schmoopie shirt, it has been 100% in David and Gillian’s best interest for us to buy into Gillovny.  I’ll say that again. Despite repeated denials throughout that timeframe, AND some noteable non-denials (e.g. WHHL), it remained in their best financial interest to fuel the rumors and draw attention to themselves by any and all means. And I’ll add -- it is also in Orlando Jones’s and Bryan Fuller’s, and anybody else interested in harnessing the power of Gillovny to garner attention for their show or project. Gillovny sells, bitches.

Think of it like the realtor trying to sell you the house you can’t afford.  Sure, she may occasionally remind you that maybe you shouldn’t buy into this one, but in the end, she’s getting the commission, so why would she really try that hard to stop you?

If you:

bought the XF season 10 DVD,

subscribed to Netflix to watch X Files, Aquarius, or The Fall,

bought photo ops or VIP packages at any of the Comic Cons,

bought tickets to Streetcar,

donated to Lick-my-Face, Childreach Int’l or other DDGA charities,

tickets to David’s concerts,

David’s album,

Gillian’s novels,

Gillian’s WE book and its various causes and events,

David’s novels,

a magazine with their photos on the cover,

a photo sold by a photographer (hi Mark Mann),

started a Tumblr blog (hello there ad clicks),

followed them on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook (hello Q score)

Or any of the other numerous ways in which money can be generated by your interest in and devotion to them as interesting and noteworthy individuals, you have participated in this celebrity transactional relationship.

I am not pointing fingers because I certainly have done about 30% of the things on the above list. The nature of our relationship to celebrities is by necessity one of transaction. We buy what they are selling, and in this case, we were buying the narrative of Gillian and David together. Their chemistry is ceaselessly watchable, so much so that it spills over from the X-Files to fuel interest in their other projects. They have used it to marvelous success.

But remember that every time you spend money on a DVD or a concert ticket, a theater ticket or a book, you're engaging in a transaction between yourself and their brand. NOT between yourself and a real, actual individual.

Here are my own actual financial Gillovny-prompted expenditures:

Season 10 Revival DVD - $19.95 (free shipping, thanks Amazon prime)

David’s new novel on Kindle - $12

Donation to Gillian’s Skype call auction - $75

Purchase of two of Gillian’s shirts for SAYes charity - $125

Grand total = $231.95 

This might sound crass. Or it might sound obvious. But it bears remembering as we work through our disappointment that the romantic narrative we were sold had no basis in reality. Tweets and media mentions are all part of brand creation, and both David and Gillian have benefited from the idea of a relationship between them. It never made sense for them to shut things down entirely as long as there still remained projects and charities to bring attention to. Gillian’s charity t-shirt auctions were a marvelous way to monetize the Gillovny brand for good.

Where we’re stuck now, though, is that all of a sudden, we have been asked to buy something else. Back in the fall, Brand Gillovny went offline, very nearly taking X Files season 11 with it.  In its place, we have been offered, Brand The Crown, and Brand Serious Charity Work, Brand Feminism Book and Brand Rockstar.  Some folks have made the switch to these new brands easily, while others are still reeling a bit from the sudden change.

What saddens me is the attitude that if someone hasn’t been able to transfer their brand loyalty seemlessly, somehow that means we aren’t as genuine a fan of David or Gillian as we should be. Let’s just remember, none of us has a relationship with G or D. We only have a relationship with their image, and therefore, it is okay not to want to continue a relationship with an image that has changed in a way that we don’t like as much.  I don’t have to move into the house next door to the house I actually wanted just because it’s in the same neighborhood.

It’s pointless now to go back over the last couple years looking for clues or debating what was true and what wasn’t. It would be easy to pass all sorts of judgements on the appropriateness of certain branding choices (I’m looking at you WHHL and Schmoopie shirt), but no answers will satisfy everyone.

I hope that thinking about D & G in this way might help those of us who’re reeling from the death of our dream house, and also help those who have successfully moved on understand those of us who may not have done so yet.

Peace fandom. And hope for a great season 11. Because MSR is why we were here in the first place, and fiction is forever.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #384

Top Ten SDCC 2019 Predictions

Every year when I do this sort of thing, it gets harder. Like I said before with E3, it feels a bit like my nerd tastes have narrowed, and I have a lot less free time to enjoy the plethora of nerdy things out there. Plus, it feels like these big multimedia showcases have expanded to the point where announcements are made over a period of a fortnight or so as companies hold their own side-conferences, or smaller players wait until there’s more oxygen in the room once the big guns have had their say. Add to this the fact that Sony skipped E3 entirely this year, and DC is more or less doing the same with SDCC (at least as far as movies are concerned), and you have a recipe for me just making stuff up. I could have done an E3 Top Ten just about Xbox rumours, and I could have done this about the MCU (when do we think we’ll see the X-Men in an Avengers movie?!). Maybe I will!

Regardless, we amble once again towards a San Diego Comic Con. This year is probably going to be most notable for Marvel’s contributions; sadly with no comparable DCEU panel we won’t get any more info out of Batman, Wonder Woman, or Harley Quinn. I’m a little bit out of the loop with what the Big Two are planning comics-wise, and anyway, SDCC isn’t quite the hotbed of comics news it once was. But with a few exciting-looking panels, I’m sure there’ll be lots to talk about.

Usual caveats apply: I’m not insider, I know nothing, these are all guesses, some more educated than others. Sometimes this turns out to be a wishlist. Let’s see how wrong I was, eh?

MCU Overload: now Endgame is out of the way, I think Marvel will be a lot less cagey about their future. I predict release dates and official announcements for most of Phase Four (Black Widow, Eternals, Shang-Chi, a few sequels); the surprise tease of some Black Widow footage; something we really weren’t expecting (Squirrel Girl, perhaps, or a Captain Marvel sequel featuring Kamala Khan). In short, I think Marvel will seriously dominate all the headlines and get us thinking eagerly about what we’ll be watching this time in 2024.

Avengers Re-Assemble: there’s going to be a couple of Avengers retrospectives, and I predict we’ll see a repeat of the 2011 SDCC when the cast of The Avengers/Avengers Assemble (delete as regionally appropriate) appeared on-stage together for the first time. This may very well turn out to be Robert Downey Jr’s last panel appearance to discuss Tony Stark (funnily enough, however, I don’t think it’s the last we’ve seen of Chris Evans as Steve Rogers…). This will be a big event, and rather melancholic, too.

Disney Plussed: as well as all the Marvel film shenanigans – most of which are still too deep in pre-production to offer juicy morsels to the faithful – I think we’ll see loads of stuff about the MCU Disney+ shows. A proper, full trailer for Loki (which I think is the first to film), as well as oodles and oodles of info and maybe even footage from whatever’s lining up next. I think we’ll see Tom Hiddleston, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Elizabeth Olsen, Paul Bettany, and Jeremy Renner all on stage. We’ll get proper synopses for all of these shows. And, yes, I think Falcon and Winter Soldier will still be called Falcon and Winter Soldier, and it will sort of be about Sam Wilson’s journey into becoming Captain America.

Making it So: okay, moving reluctantly away from Marvel, I think the Star Trek: Picard panel will be another highlight. Jean-Luc himself, I believe, will be on stage, alongside some of the cast, and one of the show’s directors: Jonathan Frakes. They will release another, fuller, trailer for the show, and a release date too. And maybe – just maybe – we’ll even get a tease for the next season of Discovery. Engaging!

Top TV Trailers: keeping things on the small screen for the moment, there are a few panels dedicated to upcoming genre TV. TV shows which, to be honest, I probably won’t find the time to watch. But even though production has only just started on some of these shows, I still think we’ll see some footage. The Witcher, the Netflix book/game adaptation starring latter-day Superman and best-case-scenario moustache model, will have a full trailer; meanwhile, the as-far-as-I-know-still-untitled Game of Thrones spin-off will have some kind of Con-exclusive sizzle reel or teaser. I’m way, way behind on Thrones anyway so the spin-off doesn’t really interest me, but I do hope I can find space in my busy schedule for The Witcher.

Continued Transformations: the new Transformers comic feels like it’s taking a while to build, and moves a mite slowly at times, but it is building a new and compelling world, amazingly finding a unique spin on the 35-year-old franchise. A spin-off mini-series focussing on the Constructicons has already been announced, but I think SDCC will see the unveiling of another mini; maybe a prequel detailing the war with the Threefold Spark? Alternatively – if the core series is not expanded – maybe we’ll get another crossover. My personal preference would be Rodimus and Megatron’s Lost Light crew winding up in Equestria. What? A guy can dream!

Teen Titans Go! Straight to Video: after the My Little Pony movie a couple of years ago, I thought a sequel would make its way to our screens before the series wrapped up; I was sort-of right, but the second MLP movie is going straight to Netflix. I wonder if something similar will happen with my kids’ other favourite movie based on one of their favourite shows, Teen Titans Go! Maybe it’s early doors, but I think a sequel movie to the utterly fantastic Teen Titans Go! To the Movies will indeed happen, but it’ll wind up on the DC Universe streaming platform rather than go cinematic.  

OG Titans FTW: sticking with superheroes too young to drink, and again following on sorta-kinda from Teen Titans Go! To the Movies, I think as a SHOCKING TWIST we’ll get official confirmation – but no other information – about a revival of the original Teen Titans cartoon. Just a teaser trailer, and a “COMING SOON”… but this would really, really make my SDCC.

She-Ra’s Sibling, Take a Bow: so the new season of the excellent She-Ra and the Princesses of Power is coming next month; this we know. There’ll be a panel about the show, and given that it must be essentially completed, we’ll get a nice full-fat trailer. But. Here’s the thing. I think we’ll get the barest – barest – tease of a wider universe beyond Etheria, perhaps by the merest suggestion of She-Ra’s brother. I don’t actually think we’ll see He-Man in season three, but I think She-Ra will perhaps learn the word “Eternia” and discover that she may, indeed, have family out there. I imagine – and hope – that they want to keep the focus on Adora and her friends, and not drag the show’s centre of gravity off in the direction of a big, strong, and more famous male character.

Yesterday’s Agents: finally, we go full circle, back to the MCU… sorta. Because at this point, can’t we all agree that any Marvel TV show – apart from, presumably, Agent Carter – takes place in an alternate but very similar universe? I mean, there’s no way the characters from Agents of SHIELD or the Netflix Defenders series exist in the mainstream MCU without their being called up during the whole “On your left…” bit in Endgame. But regardless: Agents of SHIELD. A show that has had mixed fortunes but which, on the whole, has been really compelling and entertaining. I’ve just started on season six but so far it’s been great. But like many great things, I think it must end. Season seven is coming, but – unless they do eight at more or less the same time – I think that’s it. You had a great run, with some cracking stories and wonderful characters that I’m going to miss. But with the whole Disney+ thing, I feel we’ve seen the end of, well, all other Marvel shows. And this is what they’ll announce at SDCC.

So there you go. Not necessarily a vintage year but enough to get excited about. For me, really, it’s all about the MCU! Let’s, shall we?

[organic-intellectual]

studying film after high school

i decided to make a post for kids who want to study film in college or just go to film school in general because a year ago, i could've really used this post. first off, you need to create a lot of content. you'll go to some schools where everyone knows how to do the whole process and some schools where some students have never even touched a camera before. from experience, it's best to start now. if your school has a film club, join your school's film club. they have a class? take a class. if they don't, do your own research. learn as much as you possibly can. if you write, write tons of scripts. if you direct, make as many projects as you can. if you're an editor, make a reel. we'll get into that in a bit. next, you need to start looking at schools. do you want to go to a four year school, or a two year school? how far are you willing to go? how are your grades and gpa for this school? do you have an impressive set of activities and extracurriculars to add to your application? (p.s colleges love extracurriculars) when you find your schools, some will ask you to send materials. some will not. either way, it's good to have a film portfolio ready for the next step in your journey as a creator. for those of you who are a little confused, a film portfolio is like a compilation of every project you've ever worked on. it shows people what you can do. a reel should be no longer than five minutes in my opinion. keep it simple. keep it short. while you edit your reel, make sure you stay on top of your applications!! make sure you schedule your interviews at the right time when you're free, and make sure that you send your scores because that could really guarantee that you'll hear back from that school sooner than later. finally, here's the hardest part: the choice. which school will you go to after getting all of your acceptances back? for this, there's three rules: internships. financial aid. and your gut. internships will help you get jobs in the future. if you don't have the opportunity to get some amazing internships and make some good connections, your film career could be over before it begins. next, financial aid. let's be honest- film school is expensive. your college's financial aid department could lighten your load. the less debt you're in, the more money you can put towards your next film or screenplay. finally, trust. your. gut. meet with admissions counselors and learn everything about the school. sure, the department may teach their students 16 mm film along with digital, but will you be happy there? will you make friends? or will you shut yourself in your room the entire time? trust your gut. go to a school where you want to go. not one that you think you have to attend. i hope this was helpful to some of you looking to apply to for film majors or for film school. any questions, feel free to message me.

[chvrchesrp]

This is Part 2 of our fifth event; Part 1 can be found here.

This event is our second missive event, which means a little bit of what happens will be assigned to your muse. This event is a finale of the “Pestilence Chapter” and will be served to you in two parts. For the second part, we are introducing what happened at the ‘end’ of each room—and you’re free to create any responses you see fit, as well as write out more elaborately anything that is described below if you like. 

There are posts in the OOC to help facilitate communication. You are not required to do a group thread and are welcome to make smaller sub-threads if you prefer—but a group thread is also welcome. However you see the task getting managed best is fine by us! We do recommend that if you do a group thread, you not ‘wait up’ on a rotation, but instead just continue replying to whomever replies last in order to maintain momentum.

The date stamp for the event is still Thursday, January 26th. Assignments are considered game canon, whether or not you explore them deeply. If you have an issue with an assignment, let an Admin know! You are now welcome to write threads dated after Jan 26th.

Challenge 10′s tallies means that everyone in the Murder Mystery room contributed and so, wins their room! Jekyll and Hyde also completed a response a piece, since we don’t have an Abaddon and Olivia was excused, so they win their room! Unfortunately, Zombie Outbreak does not win their room, as Naomi and Satan are not on hiatus and neither began their thread. 

The theme is “you win some, you lose some...” so even those who won the room might still have something yet to lose—

ROOM ONE: MURDER MYSTERY INC.

THE WIN: Shibah ascertains that the order the triptych is in is a code: what would have been correctly “1, 2, 3″ was actually “3, 1, 2″—Donato inputs 312 into the lock on the desk drawer. The drawer opens, revealing a jewelry box. In another part of the room, Babylon has re-assembled the poem into a full one by connecting with Belial’s book—“God” by Langston Hughes is on page 264. The number 264 correlates to frame 264 of of the film reel, which Cassiel and Raziel have spliced together. That frame shows Chanterelle’s husband killed at his own wedding. Isadora managed to get the key out of the drain once Maria figures out they can take the wires off of Shibah’s paintings—Isadora makes a bit of a hook and gets out the key, which opens the jewelry box. Inside the jewelry box is a locket; inside the locket is a picture of Chanterelle and the key out. You solved the puzzle: Chanterelle killed your host!

THE LOSS: The tensions in the room mounted and multiplied and divided. Everyone’s emotions are running high—and now elevated and enhanced by the adrenaline of a win. Rather than that high emotionality channeled into a victory celebration, the participants step outside of their room and back into the limousine. For the next 15 to 20 minutes, everyone is in very close quarters, unable to get out of a speeding vehicle. During this time, an all-out throw-down emerges between Shibah and Raziel—with Donato backing Raziel and Cassiel backing Shibah, obviously. Belial is gleeful in the face of so much hatred finally being brought to the surface, not being controlled or composed. This is the face of the War to come among the angels: the pressure mounting of not being able to Ascend a God, and even if they could, neither seems able nor willing to side with one over the other. 

Raziel calls Shibah out and says that if she were half the angel Adon thought of her as, she’d actually be proactive about all of the chaos around them, or at least would tackle quantifiable problems—like Satan. His platform: at least he does something to protect the people. Shibah retorts that stepping up now isn’t enough to undo a lifetime track record of horrible acts, and that if anything, it’s a facade—a farce—that will doom them all. After that, it’s Cassiel that helps the argument ahead, speaking compassionately of Shibah and bringing up some of Raziel’s more heinous moments, which of course drags Donato in to defend him. The others captive in the car are taking notes—perhaps how to exploit this weakness? Perhaps which side to join, in the case of Maria? Perhaps egging them on—in the case of the demons? Perhaps trying to break up the fight—or make it worse? By the time they get out of the limo, one person has a black eye, another a split lip.

YOUR TASK: Help bring this scene to a boiling point. Before, the factions among the angels and Saints were more covert. Now, we want this to be the moment of no return—of sides for Raziel and Shibah picked, of a divide that forms. That the talk will spread and cause the same for those not present. A war is coming among them before God can Ascend: let’s get it going with a bang. Put all the cards on the table, say things you might regret, etc. Feel free to decide who takes what injuries and how, and if you want to add in more injuries, by all means go ahead.

ROOM TWO: JEKYLL AND HYDE.

THE WIN: Olivia is able to open the cabinet with Abaddon’s help; it’s Abaddon’s off-the-wall thinking that allows them to consider the 4-code 7800—the sum of all the numbers on the clock, and then none of the numbers. Inside the cabinet is a strange jar—it doesn’t seem to fit any part of this room. It looks like a body part suspended in a viscous liquid, with little tentacles. After Kiara helps Jairus unlock the computer, there is a voice-to-text note-taking program open. The most recently opened file is played: it’s a man’s voice stating, “The experiment is almost complete—” but then is abruptly cut off, recording a strained scream. Crowley and Adele have discovered a door that has no discernable way to open it—but once four people stand on the designated floor markers H7, A4, D5, E2 that Elijah and Ethan found, the door opens—revealing a whole other room.

THE LOSS: Olivia’s jar does have a home somewhere in the newly revealed laboratory of Dr. Hyde, but the puzzles suddenly seem incredibly irrelevant. The puzzles that could be found—if they could be found—are covered in very real liquids... the familiar black blood, some red, some not easily identifiable. The digital clock is broken, the surveillance camera was clipped, and the monitor to the headquarters doesn’t seem to be working. What’s there is shock and horror to everyone’s eyes: in the corner of the room is a still barely alive Mr. Drobot. When he sees Kiara, his eyes go wide and he starts screaming incoherently. This is clearly not part of the room; this is not part of the script, this is real. Coming face to face with one of her victims for the first time as a fully aware being, Kiara feels something inexplicable shift inside of her. She thinks of all the hints she had, all the warnings she’d been given. In a last desperate moment as she feels herself unravel, she gives the vial of cure to Olivia, because she’d kept the precious concoction on her own body to protect it.

Then, all eyes fall on Kiara—how could they not?—as she goes over to Drobot—or perhaps a better word is drawn, as if by destiny, as if by some force bigger than them all—and she sits on his shoulders as he whimpers. Her jaw seems to unhinge as if she might swallow his entire head. But through her gaping maw, rather than chomping down with inadequate teeth, a dark mist rises from him, as if she’s steaming out all of his darkness, all of his corruption, all of his deceit and greed and unforgivable acts, and she swallows them down with a smile. Only then does it become clear that beneath his body are other bodies; soon, he shrivels into a husk of a man, as if all the moisture had left him, and he looks as brittle as the bodies he sat on. The last thing to emerge from his body was a small speck of light, almost a bit of dust that happened to catch something bright, before it disappeared entirely. This, of course, might be easily forgotten in contrast:

Kiara seems to become, for a moment, larger than life. While her body might have remained the same size, something about her—her energy? her way of being perceived—seemed to take over the whole room. The room becomes colder because Kiara is drawing all of the heat to her like a new sun: she is glowing and fire unfurls from her back shaped like wings, singing the walls, the puzzles in the room, anything they touch on the edges. Just like a fire blaze, she stokes hot and hotter, and then the wing shapes slowly crackle down, becoming more like a sparking forcefield of energy around her body, like a visible aura. When Kiara steps off of the bodies, she looks just like herself, but now a faint glow permanently lines her skin. A living embodiment of the Rapture, the Horsemen of Pestilence has been fully integrated. No one has noticed that Olivia is missing; she won’t be found again until the next morning, with no memory of the night before after this moment. She lost the cure.

YOUR TASK: Your muses have just witnessed the first full birth of a Horseman and she is standing in front of you, this balancer of the universe, this Sin-Eater, this cleanser of souls. What the fuck? What do you do? Do you know her still, try to talk to her, try to see what’s left and what’s changed? Do you try to win her to your side? Do you run? Do you go to the previous room and try to contact the authorities? Do you see if the 3 town cars are waiting for you out front, back the way you came? What do chaos demons do in the midst of all this chaos? What do the Saint boards do to try and manage everyone? And do the unaligned humans feel a little bit more like believers?

ROOM THREE: ZOMBIE OUTBREAK.

THE NEAR-WIN: Magda and Josh have the key from the actor’s fake stomach; Renee abandons Dom, but he manages to figure out that the skull goes on the scale in fast fashion, meaning he gets to keep the velvet pouch, which has a key in it; Noah and Zoe do figure out the Morse code to open the crate, and inside the crate is another key. Everyone has a bunch of keys but none of them seem to open anything—that’s because Satan and Naomi couldn’t solve their box puzzle, so the puzzles can’t progress, so the team fails the room. As the living zombie actor closes in on all of them, a honking siren goes off inside, a blaring indicator that they did not escape the room. The noise only further functions to put pressure on those who failed, but many people are just happy to have the door open again so they can get out—happy to have survived, if not won, a room with Satan.

THE LOSS: So what maybe started as an only slightly unhealthy bicker contest between strangers has unfortunately devolved under the weight of imagined pressure with an unstable force. Satan was cruel and degrading but Naomi wouldn’t back down; it was too much insolence and that, combined with their inability to solve a fucking box puzzle, made him almost fit to burst a gasket. When the door opened regardless as the failure alarm sounded, loud and invasive as a fire drill alarm, Satan snapped at Naomi. He grabbed her by the throat and raised her 3 inches off the ground, staring hard at her, and then putting her back on the ground without releasing her. In a voice that matches her dead ex-boyfriend, Satan said, “It was nothing, Naomi,” but the voice held an edge of anger and rage, despite being a perfect channel. His face twisted and contorted just as Christopher’s had. “A guy has needs, Naomi,” he continued, boring holes into her with his eyes.

“I have a right to be happy, to be pleased,” he continued, punctuating the quotations from nights so long ago like punches, “and if you won’t do the things I need you to do then I’m going to get others to take care of me.” He brought up his other hand in a fist and hit her upside the head, an echo of where she’d hit her ex with blunt force trauma, but not as hard. “You have literally nothing to complain about.” Satan’s face was a mask of her ex’s as he released her from his grasp only to slap her in the face, just as Christopher had. He was eating her pain, lapping it up like a dog, trying to find the cracks inside of her that would make her crack. The entire room hung in a hysterical silence, not yet enough time to be bystanders, not yet enough time to divert the crisis, how quickly had it escalated, and by whom it had been perpetrated. Naomi’s face had red marks across it as she was reeled back, dazed from the impact, tears forming in slow trickles in between shock.

It is at this time that Satan, so focused on Naomi, doesn’t notice a redhead sliding in for a literal dick punch. Magda had been paralyzed by fear, but couldn’t witness something similar to her own trauma happen to someone else. She couldn’t stop Satan, but she could pause him, enough so that everyone can try to get out of the room in one piece—including Naomi.

YOUR TASK: Satan obviously can’t be killed by anyone present, but he needs to be stopped, needs to re-center himself and perhaps get a grip on his worry stone to realign his thoughts. People also need to get out and back on the bus back to headquarters, which still involves sharing space with Satan. Do things escalate? Does Satan have allies in the room, willing to take the opportunity to cause more damages or to support him in his actions? To exploit the moment? Or are people more interested in getting out of there, looking after each other? Will this be a divisive moment, or one that brings unlikely people into a bond?

Enjoy, darlings!!