#met my boss?? like my general manager??

[silverskye13]

Had a really bizarre nightmare(?) last night.

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[vantaeries]

🐈‍⬛ PICK A PILE : GHIBLI CAT 🐈‍⬛

FUTURE SPOUSE : THEIR APPROACH TO THEIR CAREER & WHEN THEY MET YOU

PILE 1 PILE 2 PILE 3

Disclaimer : This is a general reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Remember, the energies can change from time to time. So pick wisely.

How to pick : Close your eyes, take a deep breath and clear your mind. Trust your intuition and choose a pile that you are most drawn to.

PILE 1

🐈🐈‍⬛ - For those who choose this pile, the profession of your future spouse is often marked by risks and rewards. It requires them to attend many social events, hosting parties or business meetings. No doubt they have good communication skills. Any words that come out of their mouth manage to gain favor from their bosses or clients. However, if they use these skills to trick and manipulate others for their business advantage, it could be the start of their downfall. They might even be willing to change their profession or workplace if it doesn't benefit them. It's like they only seek fun and money in the workplace. It's most likely that when they meet you, they will start to take their work more seriously and responsibly. This could happen when you both work together. From platonic, both of you slowly became lovers. I think you will help your FS to see the big picture in future where you both lead each other in work. So yes, it's definitely like a work couple.

🐈🐈‍⬛ - In their chart, Prominent Jupiter, Air Sign (Gemini & Aquarius), Strong Mercury, Water Sign (Scorpio)

🐈🐈‍⬛ - Possible career fields : judge, lawyer, banker , investor, business person, investigator, entrepreneur, artist & leader

PILE 2

🐈🐈‍⬛ - For this pile, you and your future spouse will start a business together or work in partnership. Before starting the business, one of you might have experienced some conflict, but when you meet, you'll both have the idea to open a business. You will serve as pillars of support for each other. For example, if you open a coffee shop, they will make the coffee while you take the orders. The only thing you need to be mindful of is maintaining balance. Misunderstandings or confusion may arise if one of you is emotionally guarded or secretive. If any problems or issues related to work or love occur, both of you need to sit down and have a deep conversation. Otherwise, one of you might harbor a lot of dissatisfaction and potentially isolate themselves in their work.

🐈🐈‍⬛ - In their chart : Strong Cancer & Moon, Gemini, Aquarius, Taurus, Moon - Mercury

🐈🐈‍⬛ - Possible career field : Travel blogger, therapist, counselor, teacher, entrepreneur, cooks, stall managers

Pile 3

🐈🐈‍⬛ - For those who choose this pile, your future spouse (FS) is determined and focused. Once they choose a field, they set their mindset and goals firmly on it. Due to this determination, they might overwork themselves. The universe advises them to rest, as they are working themselves like a robot. It's likely they experienced heartbreak before, possibly neglecting their previous partner because of their intense focus on work. After the breakup, they grieved over their mistakes. When they meet you, they feel a nurturing and welcoming energy, making them dream of building a family with you. Both of you will strive to provide comfort and financial security in the relationship. For some of you, this might mean having a child soon after starting the relationship. For others, it could mean that one of you may act like a child (not in a negative way, but in a sense that this relationship will heal your inner child).

🐈🐈‍⬛ - In their Chart : Strong Venus (Libra, Taurus), Venus - Saturn, Capricorn, Cancer

🐈🐈‍⬛ - Possible career field : Work in entertainment, musician, artist, banker, florist, executive role (CEO), engineering

Feel free to suggest topic to me in my ask box. Thanks. Enjoy the reading

[star-anise]

are we talking about broke therapists yet?

I've been out of things for a couple of years now, which is why I'm willing to talk about it, and maybe the pandemic has helped things a little, but holy shit the counselling and psychotherapy field is not equipped to help its practitioners in the gig economy.

Of all my interests and talents, I pursued a degree in psychology because being a therapist is supposed to be a safe, stable, well-paid job. Every therapist I met who was registered before 2008 worked and lived under that assumption. And oh boy are all the fee structures--registration, supervision, continuing education, conferences--set up for that scenario.

After getting my Master's, I struggled like hell to get a job. It was especially bad because to get my license, I needed a supervisor to take me on. To take me on, most supervisors wanted me to already have a caseload and client base. To get a caseload and client base, I needed a job.

Friends: Every single job I heard back on wanted me to have my license before I could even land an interview.

Professors and career advisors and professional development specialists all advised me very earnestly to just keep cold-calling people on the supervision list, and it began to feel a lot like my parents' friends telling me to hit the bricks and hand out resumes. That's what worked for them, right?

I finally got a supervisor who agreed to take me on, and I'd be able to use her clinic for advertising and workspace, and we were doing the paperwork to send in with my registration, when she called me up and said, "Is this job going to be your only source of income? If you're trying to depend on getting clients and building your practice for your basic needs, this is not going to work out. This has to be something you're doing on top of a basic salary. Okay, so you're not working anywhere else right now? I'm sorry, I can't move forward with this."

Even once I landed a supervisor and a job building my own private practice, I struggled. I have ADHD and am not great at self-promotion, so trying to do all my own advertising, scheduling, bookkeeping, billing, and records management (on top of counselling) was an enormous strain. One my bosses, supervisors, and other senior professionals watched with a slightly critical eye, but consoled me about because in their early days, their clinics had had business managers, receptionists, filing clerks, and accountants, and getting used to doing everything online yourself was a bit of a learning curve, wasn't it?

I counted my pennies very carefully, because I had to pay my supervisor roughly $180 for their services every 6 hours of in-person counselling I did. This meant that to break even I had to charge my clients an average of about $30 (plus room rental and service fees) an hour--and my clients, being people with complex trauma, were frequently poor, disabled, unemployed, and had no health benefits, so even $10 or $20 a session was a lot for them.

Maybe it would have been easier if I could have taken some of those nice comfortable organization positions where they find clients and funding for you and you work 40 hours a week and get benefits and a pension, but I had to be disabled into the bargain, so working 40 hours a week just isn't possible for me. I start passing out from stress and exhaustion. Older colleagues gave me serious-faced advice about approaching my employer and asking them for some flexibility and accommodation in my schedule, and I tried to explain across the gap between us that employers simply did not hire me if I made the slightest noise about the workload. They weren't going to invest in me as a person; they were hiring 40 units of work a week, and if I wouldn't do it there were a dozen applicants after me who would.

At one point I broke down enough to email my licensing body because the Annual General Meeting/Professional Development Conference was coming up, and I wanted to attend, but I could not produce $500 to do it with. Was there some kind of way I could attend anyway? I felt ashamed to have to ask, and then absolutely mortified when the response came from the organization president, who needed to personally sign off on me being too poor to attend the single most important event in my profession's calendar year.

I honestly felt so ashamed all the time at how I was apparently failing to be a successful therapist, failing to be rich and successful, and every time I mentioned it around mentors and bosses, I could feel myself shrinking from a person to a problem to be solved. My closest therapist-friends and I have reflected on how much more difficult, poorly-paid and underworked, our various career starts have been than we were ever warned about. About the classmates and coworkers who couldn't get disability exceptions when they fell behind in their registration requirements, or burned out and left the field, or dropped their registrations and took up as life coaches, or moved their whole family somewhere exceptionally remote or rural because it was the only good job available, or worked for some godforsaken app skirting the bounds of malpractice like BetterHelp.

I like those conversations, because I feel less like an absolute fuck-up in them. There's less "Hey Lis, you were so talented in grad school, I really admired you, what are you doing now?" "Oh, I, uh... am professionally disabled, so I get government benefits, and I... sell embroidery patterns on Etsy now."

My own therapist kept asking if and when I felt like going back to being a counsellor, and I finally told him: I don't, actually. I don't want to go back and do it like I was doing it before. It was a profession I loved to the depths of my soul, and it profoundly did not love me back. I can't even imagine what would have to change, in me or it, to make it have a space in it that could fit me.

All of which I was way too scared to admit to at the time, because the more I let people know I was struggling, the more they hinted that maybe I just wasn't in a place in my life where this was a job I could do, and I needed to take a little break and wait to come back until money and disability just weren't issues for me anymore.

Eventually my cups of doubt and exhaustion did overflow, and I quit. I'm here now, living a much different life. And at the very least, all my years of helping people in bad life situations set me up perfectly for my own. I already knew what form to fill out for financial assistance, which student clinics to access for mental health support, and which government agency would, if pressed, cough out pharmacy coverage for the genuinely destitute. It gave me that much.

I hope this is just me being in extraordinary circumstances, sitting at the intersections of a few different shitty life situations that most people skip right past. Because it's on one level comforting, but another deeply infuriating, if I'm not, and I've just missed it or we've just all been too afraid to admit it to each other.

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | 13:53 — ONE NEGRONI

SUM : to help pay the bills and your tuition fee, you get a new job at an elite club where the tips are incredibly generous. you’ve met a majority of the clientele already but they don’t match the stranger who ordered a simple negroni

TAGS. : mafia au ; modern au ; muggle au ; mobster remus ; mafia boss remus ; bartender reader ; reader is a hard working sweetheart that must be protected! ; catching remus’ eye ; remus lowkey wishes he can be the one to do the protecting ; and maybe more ; for now, he’s a low key stalker ; but sexy… ; stalking is bad, don’t do it! ; this is just fiction! ; but hey! remus owns an elite club! wooooo! ; i don’t know how to feel about my interpretation of the marauders as mafia men/mobsters ; it’s growing on me… ; also, im casting peter pettigrew as Dane DeHan in this!

LENGTH : 1.5k

It wasn’t as if you were new to the job; you had previously worked some years as a bar tender for a pretty well-established club, it paid well and managed to help pay for your rent and utility bills for most of your higher education years. However, all the built up stress and sleepless nights finally caught up to you. And you found yourself repeating a year, meaning that you needed to pay for your own tuition this year atop all the other monthly bills and necessities you keep up with. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that you needed to stop and change the direction of your life — you needed to choose an easier path, a doable path. But you were stubborn and also quite the optimist. So you kept at it, determined to finish what you started and earn your degree. 

Yes, it was a let down but you were still breathing. Life just gets hard sometimes. 

Thankfully, your past experience and phenomenal recommendation letter from your previous manager earned you another bar tending job at a very elite club, where tips were more than generous, considering the clientele composed primarily of the privileged class, some with multiple businesses under their belts, some who were phenomenal investors and some living off their parents’ money. You didn’t care to look too much into it, you were there to work and you were going to work hard and honestly. 

The patrons surprisingly had very similar tastes and so, you fond yourself making the same types of drinks repeatedly. It made the job a lot easier and you were able to focus more on your delivery and interaction with customers, leading to more tips. Times were rough after having to accept defeat with your studies and repeating a year with your own funding but things were looking up. If you keep at it, you’ll make it out alive. 

Your only complaint was the dress code. Make up was advised with a bold red lip but must be kept simple. You felt like a showgirl of some kind, squeezed into a high collar, white dress that came down to your mid thigh and with a low-cut, open back. The sleeves aren’t as long as you would like but, at least, you were permitted to use black kitten heel court shoe pumps as opposed to stilettos — your only saving grace, along with the higher salary and generous tips. 

“Looks like we have a newbie working the bar,” Sirius points out, drawing all attention to your lively figure as you served drinks with a sweet smile and airy voice. A hum of curiosity vibrates through Remus’ chest and up to his lips at the sight of you, “certainly easy on the eyes, huh?” the tattooed, right-hand comments again as he looks towards the head of the table where Remus holds up his glass of Negroni. 

“Very… innocent— a sweet, pretty, little thing,” James comments on Remus’ other side, which Peter grunts at in agreement as he takes a sip of his whiskey-sour. 

“Looks like she doesn’t belong,” Peter nods before smirking and letting out a light laugh. The domino effect had James and Sirius laughing too as Remus smirks behind his glass before proceeding to down the rest of his drink. 

“Exactly your type, eh? Moony?” 

Sirius’ teasing comment is ignored. Instead, Remus calls for there server and orders another drink with an additional request that only confirms his smirking friend’s disregarded statement, “Have the new bartender personally deliver my drink for me as well,”

There was no higher authority that could dismiss the club owner’s personal request. 

It was a strange request but you steeled your nerves and asked your fellow bartender to minister your unattended station while you made quick work on the order. It wasn’t unusual to receive requests like this from an isolated table that had privacy curtains for convenience. However, it was usually for drinks that you could make a show out of like a Holy Water cocktail, a Phoenix cocktail and even a Dragon’s Blood cocktail — a performance that you liked partaking in for the flammable aspect. But this was a Negroni. A cocktail of equal parts gin, saccharine vermouth and bitter Italian Campari. It’s a very egalitarian drink that was enjoyed by everyone, men and women alike, simple but elegant and definitely didn’t require a performance. Despite the odd summons, you were eager to fulfil your curiosity for who the client may be. 

With a professional smile, you place refined mix in the middle of your circular tray with it’s classic orange garnish and set off to the table. The standby server, who made the order, saw your approach and quickly announced your arrival through the small front opening, momentarily disappearing into the shadow of the curtains. He reappears a moment later and pulls the heavy drapes fully apart, to reveal the guests from beneath the, once, opaque shadows. 

To say that you were stunned was an understatement. 

It was pure luck that you didn’t stutter in your stride and spill the cocktail prematurely. At the table was seated four men, all dressed in suits and ties that were in various states of disorder. Among their collection of suits, you could spot Armani and Tom Ford, however, you were sure that their unconventional styles were not the way those suits were intended to be worn. 

One man with long, midnight-black hair and paper-pale skin had an array of mismatching tattoos littering both arms, revealed to you by his lack of a suit jacket and rolled-up sleeves. Another wore cute circular glasses and a cheeky grin with a suit jacket but no button up shirt and his chiseled upper body on full display. The last was a dirty blonde with piercing eyes and a deceivingly boyish smile. He had his ankle propped up on his opposite knee and several buttons undone where a tie should have been fastened over, his sleeves also rolled up as his suit jacket lay beside him.

It was the man at the head of the table, however, who stole your attention. If you had to guess who ordered such a simple but elegant drink, it would have to be him. He had his suit jacket draped over his broad shoulders and also had several of his top buttons undone, revealing some faded scars marked across his toned chest. His neat brunette hair and kind brown eyes gave him a deceivingly gentle appearance but his close company revealed a duplicity that caught and tensed your nerves.

You ignored the creeping goosebumps that prickled your skin, down from your toes all the way up to your ears. 

Just do your job…

“Gentlemen,” you addressed kindly with a slight tilt of your head, which they acknowledged with their own hums of acknowledgement, their eyes lighting up in subtle surprise at your actions, “I have an order for a Negroni,” you raise your tray with the drink and scan the four for some indication as to who the order belonged to. 

“That would be for me,” just as you suspected, it was the brunette with the kindest eyes but also the most ominous air. His voice is a deep and smooth lullaby, patient with it’s seduction on your senses. It was a trap that you resisted but are so hopelessly tempted to fall into, “Thank you, sweetheart,” he meets your eyes as you lower the drink into his large, outstretched hand. You notice how his knuckles and fingers are littered with scars also, some fresh, some faded with time and some hidden behind luxurious rings. Nevertheless…

He’s beautiful 

She’s precious 

“Not a problem,” you reassure with a soft voice, “have a good evening,” with your circular tray pressed against your side, you offer him an innocent smile and dismiss the butterflies in your stomach urging you to linger, “gentlemen,” you acknowledge the remaining three once more before offering another sweet smile. Turning on your heel, you leave the group and ignore the stares drilling holes into the back of your head.

She doesn’t know… 

Once you were out of earshot, Remus turns to his closest friends and most trusted colleagues. They all share a look, one that conveys a unanimous thought. It isn’t long before their agreement manifests into knowing smiles and a ring of laughter shared between them.

“Don’t get greedy now, Moony,” Peter chimes in as Sirius throws his head back with a barking laugh. 

“That’s not gonna stop him Wormtail, you know that; she’s a rare one,”  

“So what’s the plan, bossman?” James asks with a raised brow as he brings his drink up to his lips.

Remus doesn’t answer right away, he simply requests that the curtain remain open so he can fix his fond gaze on you for the remainder of the evening. The group already knew what to do and sat at the edge of their seats, awaiting orders eagerly despite their slack shoulders and composed expressions. Only they were able to observe the shift in the air between them; it became charged as soon as you entered their circle and slowly started accelerating, parallel to the climbing affection in Remus’ eyes as he watches you smile at customers while making their drinks. 

He takes a singular sip of his Negroni, bitterly sweet with a citrus edge. 

Heaven in a glass. And made by an angel. 

“I want a background check and profile put together immediately,” Remus finally orders, “I want to know everything there is to know about her,”

A/N : i downloaded some fics and read some over the holidays and there some mafia/mobster aus and i couldn’t help but picture remus as a mob boss, i’m sure im not the only one to ever imagine this but goddamn! why is it so easy to imagine sweet, gentle, responsible remus like that?!

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @rosalyn-s

[bones4thecats]

┗ They're Mine; TFA! Cons × GN! S/O ┛

Characters: Megatron, Starscream, and Shockwave (Transformers Animated) *characters aren't shipped together A/N: This was actually fun to write, I made the idea while ago but never had any energy to write it out. Thank goodness I did, though. I love this, by far one of my most enjoyable pieces to write. ⇘ Summary: After returning from a mission with Shockwave on Cybertron, you attract the attention of Lord Megatron and his second-in-command, Starscream. But, after becoming more comfortable around the Decepticon team, they're shocked by the realization of your status with your spy-partner.

┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

┕━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

👑💫 Having one of these mechs on your aft is hard enough. But having both of them? Oh, I feel bad for you.

👑 Megatron doesn't hesitate to show his disdain for any of his fellow Cybertronians, or really anything in general. But, because of this quality, it's easy to tell when you likes you around. Examples of this is Shockwave.

💫 Starscream on the other hand is the exact opposite. He never really shows he likes anyone. Probably because he doesn't, but I regress.

👑💫 However, when you came around, these two changed their actions almost fully. They're still just as unstable as before, but they do try to tone it down when you're nearby. Starscream does this better than the anger-issues having warlord.

👑💫 You were terrified when you met the warlord. You may have been a Decepticon who followed him for many years through the war back home, but actually seeing him face-to-face was totally different.

🧪 During Shockwave's time on Cybertron, you were right by his side. You managed a lot of the background parts, you made sure there were records of a Longarm and Hillcrest being created and being raised on the planet. Longarm being Shockwave's alias and Hillcrest being yours.

👑🧪 When you both were revealed as traitors, you fled to Lord Megatron as quickly as possible. He wasn't happy you both failed, but the way you somehow managed to go that long and get quite a bit of information, did please him.

👑🧪 You stared up at the mech as he looked blankly at you. Shockwave looked back at you with his singular optic, before motioning for you to come closer to him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and introduced you to your shared boss.

"Lord Megatron, I am pleased to introduce you to Y/N. They've been my right-hand during my time on Cybertron. Their knowledge almost surpasses my own, it's quite jarring."

"My Lord." You bowed, nervously staring at the ground as Megatron stared down at you.

"Rise." He demanded, to which you obliged and looked at him with slightly-widened optics.

"So," he began circling around you as he spoke. "You're the infamous Hillcrest Prime, leader of the Cybertronian Defense. Impressive work weakening their defenses on the inside without Ultra Magnus discovering."

"I-uh, thank you, my Lord. Though, Shockwave did do quite a bit of work himself with that." You chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sure he did." He purred, making your cheeks flare with a slight blue tint.

💫 Your first time meeting Starscream was far different. You actually knew him from before the war. He was one of your best friends as you aged. Starscream enjoyed being around you because you helped feed into his ever-growing ego.

💫 He always said you were adorable when you were young, but seeing you and how you aged was shocking. You stood alongside Shockwave, trying to put a few things together before Lugnut began to spout off about Megatron once again.

💫 You looked at Lugnut and blinked annoyingly, a scowl on your face as he kept rambling. He was pissing you off and both Starscream and Shockwave knew this, but didn't bother trying to stop you. They both understood your anger far to well.

"Lugnut. Please be quiet. Shockwave and I must continue our research into the ship and getting information out of Arcee."

"Are you saying you don't want to hear about our glorious leader, Lord Megatron?! How dare you insult him in such a menner?! Why-"

💫 Your optic twitched as you, without hesitation, stomped on Lugnut's ped, kicked him on the side of his face, and pushed him out of the room.

"And if you don't want to listen, stay out!" You yelled, slamming the doors shut.

👑 Megatron heard the noise and went to the room, only to find Lugnut pouting outside of the room.

"Lugnut? What caused that loud boom?" Megatron asked.

👑 The green and purple Decepticon stood up abruptly and bowed to the stoic mech before telling him the story. Only for you to yell back that you heard him and he should stop acting like a sparkling unless he wanted you to come out and throw him out the nearest exit.

👑 Megatron was slightly surprised. When you first arrived, you were on the shy-side, not really speaking unless necessary. But, perhaps that was how Hillcrest acted around people of authority and not Y/N? Most likely.

👑💫 Megatron entered and looked at Starscream, only to see the mech talking to you like he knew you for eons. Of course he did, but the warlord couldn't give a scrap. His second-in-command really knows how to make Megatron want to cut each cable in his system, doesn't he?

"Y/N, can you grab some supplies from the back?" Shockwave asked.

"...Huh? Oh- yeah. What do you need?"

"Just some lubricants and extra cords." He answered, antennae moving around as you smiled and nodded.

👑💫 Megatron and Starscream glared at one another, but they looked at you as you whipped off your servos and laid a cloth down for Shockwave to do the same later on. Come to think of it, the only Cybertronian they saw you always positively and freely interact with was the scientist...

👑💫🧪 Just as they began to go through the few memories they shared with you in the team, you stepped up slightly and pecked the scientist on the side of his helm. His antennae moved slightly upwards as he leaned his helm on yours for a slight second before you left to grab the materials he wanted.

"Did that just... happen?" Starscream mumbled, Lugnut beside him with his jaw dropped open.

"Uh- Shockwave." Megatron called.

👑💫🧪 Shockwave looked at his leader and hummed, wordlessly asking for the larger mech to continue.

"Are you and Y/N a... couple?" He strained out.

"We started acting lovingly while undercover in Cybertron's ranks, those small actions are practically in our average movements now." He replied.

"That doesn't answer the question!" Starscream yelled, servo balled in a fist as he yelled.

"To sum it up...

They're mine."

[crepezinhos]

Hii! Could I please request yan! Diluc and yan! Xiao with a darling on hunger strike?(basically she refuses to eat unless freed)

Ty 4 reading my request!

Starving For Love

POV: At the end of the day, despite all their twisted actions, words, and thoughts, you know they do it just because of the weird kind of love they feel for you. They’re cautious about everything that happens to you, to a point where you can’t have the freedom to hang out wherever you want. So why not threaten them with something they can’t control?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is an angsty SFW Oneshot

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— AU is: Modern for both characters

— Abusive!Yandere!Xiao + Diluc

— Contains violent themes such as: starvation, self-harm, physical harming/abuse, forced marriage, imprisonmen, mentions of SA and lots of bad words

Xiao: Being on His Shoes

Xiao was a man that went through a lot. He was abandoned by his parents in the streets, which forced to learn how to survive as a homeless, hungry kid, barely making it through every day. Then, he was recruited by a man that basically enslaved him under a manipulative contract in exchange for a stable home, food and water. Even when he was saved by Zhongli, the country’s war general, and given a real, free life, he managed to lose all that he loved once again, but this time during an event that is now called the Archon War. If only he hadn’t volunteered to participate that day… he wouldn’t have met all the friends he made in the way or have to watch them all die in brutal, bloody ways. A shot in the heart, multiple gunshots, explosions, being kidnapped by the enemy… he had seen it all with those amber eyes and he definitely wished to never witness something close to it again.

That’s why when he met you and fell in love with you, he went paranoid. He couldn’t just let you roam free in the cruel world where you two live in. He could easily lose you to some stupid, or cruel reason if he let you have freedom to walk wherever you wanted.

He couldn’t even trust his loyal companions when it came to you. Maybe they would take advantage of his trust on them to take you away from him. Xiao didn’t understand that not everyone viewed you as this heaven-sent angel as he did. He thought you naturally attracted everything to yourself with your beauty, kindness, will to work hard, including men with bad intentions, so he decided to completely censor you for the world, only to be seen by his eyes.

And, now, you’ve been in this repetitive cycle of practically living in a chamber in his home for months. He was completely ignorant to any protest, either ignoring them or not even noticing them, which was making you run out of ideas.

But, now that you were reminded of the man’s past, thanks to Ganyu, your old boss, you had brainstormed an idea that could finally trigger him into saying ���yes’, and tonight, you wished to test it.

“Adeptus Xiao went through a lot. From hunger to watching his friends die… he pretty much went through all miseries of the world and refuses to help himself. I apologize for his aloof manner, Ms. Y/N…”

You dearly missed to hear her sweet voice bossing you around. When Xiao wanted to boss you, his voice didn’t have any other motivation rather than his own selfishness, he simply wanted to own your soul. And let’s not mention how war-cry-like tone in his orders were when he was angry.

“Y/N.” The door of your chamber, where you were sleeping at, was finally opened. A comforting shine of the house’s upstairs’ lights came inside the room too, lifting up your spirit a little bit. “I made this for you.” He walked up to you with a plate of your favorite food, whose smell was mouth-watering to you.

“Thank you.” You decided to not get up from your bed, or stare back at him. Watching the few, unmoving stars in the sky you could see from the room’s window was more entertaining than him and his food.

Xiao thought that maybe you just weren’t hungry in the moment, and decided to place it in the ground by your bed gently. He wasn’t satisfied with the way you acted there, but he had no option but to leave. Just to make sure you were fine, as soon as he closed the door, instead of walking upstairs, he decided to lean his body down and peek his eyes through the peephole before. You remained immobile as expected, unaware of him being invasive to your privacy, but at least you didn’t seem to be trying to put in action some another stupid plan to possibly escape from him. That’s when Xiao finally decided to let go of you for now.

.

“Y/N?” You heard his voice right above your right ear, a little sharper than usual, causing you to wake up in a shiver.

You looked upwards, meeting his eyes wide and worried. Your stomach was constantly aching and rumbling for food now, specifically your favorites ones, but you decided to keep acting like nothing was going on.

“Why didn’t you eat your dinner?” He pulled the plate with food and showed it to you. Now, the smell of it wasn’t too pleasant.

“I didn’t like the food.” You managed to tell the lie smoothly. You’ve been rehearsing that for the past hours to make sure it was spoken normally.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve taken a single bite out of it.” He sounded more stressed this time, worried about the accuracy of your words.

“It didn’t look good. I couldn’t bring myself to eat it, I’m sorry.” Xiao was surprised at your words and your nonchalant attitude, just turning around to go to sleep like you hadn’t just almost cut his heart in half. No one, not even you when you were protesting, has ever said that his cooking was bad.

His concern immediately took over him. He grabbed the fork hanging at a corner of the plate and brought it the food.

Despite the fact that it was awfully cold and a little out of date, it still didn’t really taste as bad as you described it to be. It couldn’t possibly be worse when it was still fresh and warm.

“Are you… sure?” He couldn’t even believe he was asking you such a question.

“Yeah.” You shrugged your shoulders, a little nervous about staring at him in the eyes now.

“I should get you something to eat now, then—” Xiao immediately begun walking to the kitchen before even finishing talking to you.

“No.” You murmured, slightly quiet, but he still heard you like that was a scream, and stopped to look back at you again. “I’m not hungry.” You smiled at him, knowing it’d help convincing him.

“You’re… not?” Xiao was dumbfounded.

“No.” You shrugged your shoulders again and decided to lay down at the bed again.

Sleeping was the only thing you could do to ease your hunger pains and slow it down as much as possible.

“Ok…” His eyebrows frowned, beginning to suspect that you had other things in mind.

He decided to try avoiding any possibilities of you doing something against his rules, so, for the rest of the morning, he forced you to stay around him while he worked with many documents. Leaving you alone in a room where you’d have privacy to do whatever you wished to did not seem like a smart idea to Xiao. And, of course, it comforted him to have you around, despite your hatred for him.

But, of course, his mind was quickly unsettled by your disinterest in food. Xiao would’ve probably ignored it for a longer period if it wasn’t for his own experiences with hunger.

What a trigger you pulling on him.

As a kid, sometimes he would have to eat bugs, spiders, snow… so many messed-up digestible things to survive. He knows the feeling of starvation like it was his shadow. It was slow, painful, agonizing… so he obviously want to protect you from it at all cost.

“It’s 2 in the noon. You haven’t eaten anything.” Xiao finally exploded and expressed his concern out of the blue, stopping his document-reading to pay attention at you.

“I’m not hungry.” You repeated yourself.

“I don’t care!” Xiao finally stood up, slapping the table with both hands, making you slightly shiver on your spot. “I’ll bring you lunch.” He walked out of the room in a hurry, stressed and disturbed by your behavior.

He didn’t take long to, once again, bring a plate of the food he had cooked the day before. There was no way you hated his cooking that bad. He took your words in the most offensive way possible, and now he wanted to see you eat it to make sure you actually don’t like it.

Your face remained normal as he came back and approached you with the tray of food in his hands. He sat down by your side and begun forking the food for you, expecting you to respond obediently, but instead, you just kept staring at him like he was invisible.

“Open your mouth.” He brought the fork closer to your mouth but you simply grinned in response.

“No.” Your voice was normal, but it felt like a sting to him.

“I want to see you eating the food. If I see that you really don’t like it, I’ll cook something else. You could also help me cooking if that helps you.” Xiao’s eyes were barely blinking at that point, completely desperate to see the answers of his experiment.

“I’ve been saying it this entire time, yet, you still don’t realize it.” You looked down to giggle with a little bit more of respect. “I don’t want to eat.“ You rose your head again, courageous to pro rest, but Xiao still seemed to not get it.

“Hum?” He hummed in confusion.

You don’t way to eat?

Is that really what you said right now?

You want to starve until you’re crying in pain?

“I’m hungry, but I don’t want to eat. I’m not going to eat.” You crossed both your arms and legs while doing a staring competition with him.

“What are you talking about?” Xiao lowered the fork, anxiety already beginning to accelerate his heart.

“I’m tired of this, Xiao. I’m tired of living in some shit, gray chamber every single day of my life. I want my freedom back again.” Xiao’s eyes widened with that sentence, realization starting to take him.

Is that why you don’t want to eat your meal? You want freedom first? Freedom of what? You’re free in his house.

“Are you trying to negotiate your rights in this house?” Xiao’s voice was low, yet threatening like he was a fox, preparing to attack you.

“Yes, I am.” You remained unmoved, despite his adrenaline levels raising and his tone growing more violent.

“Do you want to be locked up in that room for the next 5 days?!” Xiao immediately threatened, standing up just to grab you by the collar of your clothes, which didn’t really make you flinch. “You’re not going to get anything. You’re good where you are. Now, be a good girlfriend and open your mouth.” Although he was trying to scare you into obeying him, the way his hands were trembling with anxiety made his threat look pathetic.

No… no… you can’t be preferring to be on his old shoes instead of enjoying all the modernity he offered you in that house. You can’t be preferring to kill yourself brutally and slowly rather than being his girlfriend.

Xiao grunted as he thought of those and genuinely tried shoving the spoon closer to your mouth, but your instincts reacted first and you flinched your head to the side, using your ams to hold and push his arm back. It almost worked for Xiao, but the food still couldn’t reach inside your red flesh. Even if it did, you could just spit it out anyway.

When Xiao thought of that too, he intensified his weight on top of you. He could control so many things of you, yet, he couldn’t control what your brain chose for your interns. Perhaps locking you in a room would be better for your little plan too, so what could he do?

What could he do?

What could he do?!

WHAT COULD HE DO?!?!

“No..!” You responded, barely opening your mouth to not let him possibly hold it on place and shove food down your throat.

“You better stop with this nonsense right now, Y/N!” Xiao’s eyebrows frowned even more, looking absolutely serious about your threat.

“I won’t stop with it until I get my freedom back, and there’s nothing you can do about it! Do you know how it feels to be stuck at home 24/7 with a person that’s not worth it?! I want my freedom back right now, Xi—!” Before you could rant all your feelings out of their gates, Xiao’s hand jumped on you, making way into your mouth and holding it open.

“Shut up… SHUT UP! You don’t want to do this, Y/N, you don’t!” Xiao repeated over and over while trying to fight the strength you were putting in your jaw to bite him. “You’re gonna eat this meal… you’ll be ok… and you’ll be grateful for the rights you already have..!” He started using his other hand to aim the fork of food inside you, causing you to try fighting him even more. “You can’t hate me… not this much… you can’t..! There’s no reason for you to hate me this much! I could be acting way worse, you know?! But I am merciful to you, and only you…” You’ve never heard him talk so desperately like that while managing to shove a few crumbs of food, inside your mouth, in which you quickly started pushing out of you with your tongue.. “EAT! FOR GOD’S SAKE, JUST EAT!” Xiao started bobbing and shaking your arms, trying to possibly wake you up from your delusion. “Why are you doing this?! Why?! Why?!?! I give you everything that you need to live safely!” He finally jumped away from you so he could continue ranting with more freedom, walking in slow circles around the room.

You started hyperventilating immediately, coughing too to make sure that was absolutely no nutrients going down your throat.

“Y/N, I know what hunger feels like… you don’t want to do this over something so stupid like freedom to go outside…” Xiao covered his face with his hands due to the trigger he was getting from his own memories. “Why would you even want it..? To go shopping?! I can do that for you!” You scoffed at his words.

“There’s no point in discussing this with you.” You shook your head side-to-side. “Let me have freedom.” You insisted another time.

But, unlike what you expected from the triggered man in front of you, did not submit to your wish, and this time he made sure you’d be punished for the agony you’re making him feel for your well-being.

.

You spent the next hours just screaming and banging the door of your cell, talking about how you’d not eat until you got your freedom and for him to let you out, over, and over, and over… until you fell asleep, disappointed at yourself for not calling his attention.

But you were wrong. Of course Xiao could keep his eyes on you even when he was far. There was a single, miserably small camera in a corner of the room that could move to every angle of the room that you never spotted. As soon as he counted 10 minutes of you not moving in the bed, he decided to climb down and visit you.

Although hunger was making you fall asleep easier and harder, Xiao knew that you were alert to every touch of his due to your disgust. So he has to keep his steps smooth, his breathing calm, and his touch barely sensible.

He very slowly closed the door, the ‘bang’ noise fortunately didn’t wake you up. Then, he gently stepped around the room in soft spots until he could reach his hands on you.

It reached a loose strand of your pijama’s borders and slowly pulled them upwards until he could mire most of your chest. Although your underwear and raw skin did distract him a bit, as soon as his eyes landed on your ribs, now with visible bone curves, twisted his stomach upside down.

He remembered when he first realized his slimness when he was a famine kid. He would rub his hands around his ribs, finding the curves of his bones cool to play with, but as soon as his stomach ached for some source of energy, he curled up in agony and sobbed, praying for food to somehow appear for him.

To think of you in such situation made his grip tighten instinctively in your dress. He would’ve sheltered you or anyone in that situation immediately. But, now that he’s in love with you, he specifically belies you shouldn’t ever go through the hardships of Liyue for no good reason, even if you want to. After all, it is one of the many reasons why he keeps you stuck in one safe place with no access to harm.

But… it still failed to keep you safe from harm or simply to make you like it. You were supposed to be feeling comfortable at his home, not starving yourself to get out of it. He hated to see you doing that to yourself because of him. What a mean trick of you to use such a method of self-harm against his sensibility. One that he directly relates to, one that he directly fears and repels.

He can’t let you do that.

He can’t let you feel what it feels like to step in concrete-made streets, or in snow, with care feet.

He can’t let you feel cold enough to have your fingers and nose burning due to the heat shock of it.

He can’t let you feel hungry enough to think a beetle could be nutritious.

He can’t let you sell your dignity for some poor, soulless cheater.

He can’t let no man take advantage of you and place their dirty hands on you.

If he went through enough misery being a man, the thought of what it would be the woman he loves in his place makes him want to vomit.

He can’t let you hurt yourself.

.

“Ms. Y/N?” You heard a female voice above you.

Your body shivered in fear. It’s been a while since you’ve last been waken up by one of Xiao’s house maids.

“W-What…” The first thing you felt was a sting in your stomach and rumbling noises coming from it. Hunger was really becoming serious now.

Your eyes were aching to close again and your arms were barely handling to hold you sat in the bed due to the lack of energy in you.

“Here.” She offered you a whole pile of documents organized in a folder. “I’ll be your assigned caretaker.” She bowed to you and begun walking away from the room to let you have privacy to read the documents.

You watched the Mai’s leave in disbelief. From that sentence, you assumed that you won the game you proposed and that made your eyes open in joy.

You quickly turned to the folder, and the first thing your eyes landed on when you opened it was a small, orange sticky note.

“Please eat before beginning to read this.

I’ll be back at 8. You have until that time to enjoy the city.”

You rapidly removed the note from the white sheet in which it was glued against after reading it, desperate to dig out the context for that note and to satisfy your hopes. Your eyes were flashed by a whole pile of white sheets with multiple essays written in Arial font and in black color. You quickly ran through various pages, meeting various titles and sections for it all, like you were reading a law. Finally, you went back to the first page, and decided to finally take a look at the enormous title at the top of the page.

Your Rights of Freedom

And you could swear a tear rolled down your cheek.

Diluc: Bipolarity

Diluc was a man that had all advantages over you, and he used those to trap you in his house and control how you acted. He had money, power, influence, security… everything that you didn’t have more of.

Your life, right now, could be easily described as “depressing”, and nothing else.

You had no freedom at all. You were forced to abandon your friends, family and career dreams, to become a traditional wife. All you were left with were the maids of his home, but Diluc still restricted your relationship with them a lot, or else they’d surely suffer enormous consequences. You couldn’t ever leave the house, not even to the backyards. Diluc wasn’t even sacred of the possibility of you running away or you telling someone about your relationship with him, he just wanted to have you entirely for him and his needs. A perfect wife who was devoted to him and happy to pleasure him. But, since he couldn’t achieve that from you naturally, he used those financial advantages to force you to devote to him. The only times you’d ever get out of that house was when he wanted to bring you out with him and possibly bond with you truthfully, but since you wouldn’t demonstrate any interest, he’d rarely do so. For some reason he still believes he has the chance of making you genuinely fall in love with him. Don’t blame him! He tried making you love him for many years, ever since the beginning of college, but you never saw him as anymore than a friend! Diluc, in the other hand, was so obsessed with you and your rejection to his confession that he could barely sleep comfortably. Thoughts of you and him together filled his mind 24/7. He dreamed to have you wearing beautiful dresses for him, especially the white one, with a bouquet of flowers in your hands. The only things that ruined how Diluc processed his feelings was his father’s death. He loved his father, but never quite appreciated his efforts truly. When he died, an avalanche of guilt was thrown in Diluc, making him feel worthless for many years for not being as grateful as he should been to his dad. He was so scared of ever wasting anyone he loved again that he decided to make you his before you could ever think about getting a boyfriend, instead of simply letting you go.

And if you disobeyed his orders, he would punish you in multiple ways, either physically or mentally. But, since your fears made you submit as soon as he threatened you of punishment, you’d never actually found a reason to fear Diluc.

That phase was the worst phase of your life. Having to abandon literally everything you’ve built and have been building was a poison that only rose deeper in your blood vessels. And to submit to a toxic man, and having to act like a perfect robot that couldn’t do mistakes was truly draining. You had a soul. You had passions. Not even some passions of yours were free to you. Films with violence or sex? He won’t let you watch it. Films with female empowerment? He won’t let you watch it. Romance novels? He won’t let you even think about it. You protested, and protested, and protested… but Diluc never heard you. You were his, by law, and while you were stuck in there, there was nothing you could do about it.

Don’t get him wrong, he hated to see you staring at nothing, wondering if this mess of a ‘marriage’ will ever end. But if it meant he could make you love him, even if it was due to a Stockholm Syndrome, he didn’t see much problems in imprisoning you like that.

Once again, you were tired of it all. You wanted to regain the confidence you used to have once again. Breaking his furniture wouldn’t annoy him, harming him wouldn’t annoy him, harming other people around wouldn’t annoy him, not even if you harmed yourself would be enough.

But… what if you harmed yourself in a way he can’t control? Because if you slash your wrists or throw yourself from the home’s third floor, he could still take you to a hospital and save your life. Because he can stop you from dying pretty easily. But what if the harm was in stomach, a place his hands can’t reach?

So, you made the choice of starvation for this month’s protest.

.

“Do you not like the food?” He asked to you while you simply stared at the plate in boredom with your hands in your thighs.

“I’m not hungry, my dear.” You said despite your desperate wish to eat that delicious, juicy, medium-rare beef the cooks had made.

Every time the words ‘my dear’ has to come out of you, it felt like a stab in your heart. How many angels have lost their wings yet with every time you were forced to call him that?

“Eat.” He demanded with a more real tone this time.

“I’m feeling sick, my dear, please.” You decided to put your hands around your belly to make your lie look more real.

“What are your symptoms?” He already seemed to suspect your words.

“Nausea. A heavy one.” You covered your face with your hands and started rubbing your fingers around your forehead, as if you were trying to act more ‘sick’ to him.

He remained quiet for a few seconds, judging your argument and trying to remember if you’ve acted like that throughout the day. Perhaps you could be lying, but illnesses usually show up unexpectedly, so there was a possibility of the same really happening to you right now. Maybe one of the things you ate today were rotten and were making you feel sick like that. He could already feel some anger rising in his veins, thinking about the punishment he’d give to the cooks that let rotten food reach your beautiful pink lips.

“Ok. Go to bed.” He ordered you, this time more sweet and trustful about your claim.

Thankfully, there was a TV in his room, which was what you usually used to make free time run faster. Since you had many “wife duties”, you’d barely have time to sit on that bed and enjoy yourself with that big screen, to instead, spend an insufferable amount of time with him. Spending hours watching whatever you wanted on it, since he wasn’t there to monitor, you enjoyed yourself like never before. It was a great time, and you were glad you got to enjoy a little bit of your life again before it was absolutely crushed.

.

“What do you want for breakfast today?” He asked while leaning down to put his leather shoes on, on the right corner of the bed, and you, putting on a cozy robe in the opposite side of the bed.

“I’m not hungry, my dear.” You were short with your words, and refused to look back at him.

He remained silent, but you could sense his eyes preying at you, pausing his own shoe-putting.

“What are you trying to do, Y/N?” His voice already sounded scary to you, but you unfortunately had to swallow it all down to keep posture.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what are you talking about.” You still tried to act like everything was alright.

“You’re always hungry for breakfast, Y/N, no matter if you ate dinner or not. How are you not hungry after a whole night without eating a thing?” He finally went back to putting his shoes back on, so he could get off the bed as soon as possible to walk up to you.

His tall, menacing figure, standing close to yours, made your body harden in fear and flinch away from him. You couldn’t do it. No matter how many hours of practice and self-reassurance, you couldn’t even make eye contact with him when he was standing like that. A threat.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Y/N?” He asked, but you couldn’t find anything to answer again. “Stay right there. I’ll bring you food first.” The sudden change in his harsh tone to a more normal one, made you swallow all your saliva down your throat in relief, feeling how badly it had accumulated and stuck to your mouth during this moment of silence.

As soon as you heard his steps growing quieter and quieter, you sighed all the air you couldn’t exhale previously.

You closed your eyes and begun doing a breathing exercise, knowing you were certainly going to go through something bad, but with some hopes that at least it would be worth it.

It didn’t take Diluc long to come back with a plate of your favorite meal. Your mouth salivated to eat it, but you simply looked away instead, causing your stomach to rumble in denial.

“Here.” He sat down by your side and lifted his arm with the fork in his hand, but you refused to even look at it. “Look at me, Y/N.” His eyes were barely bruising your skin with their intensity.

“No.” You firmly stated. That was probably the only word you’d be able to mumble without stuttering.

“Excuse me?” Diluc sounded a little ironic, which triggered you into finally standing up for yourself.

“I will not eat any sort of food u-until you l-let me..!” You had to breathe in and out a deeply before managing to gather courage to finish your sentence. “Until you let me have my freedom back!” You closed your eyes and screamed. Without seeing his face, you had courage to scream whatever you wanted to him.

You proceeded to hyperventilate, waiting for him to give an initial argument for you to debunk.

Diluc suddenly threw the fork in some corner in the room. The sound of silver crashing around the floor multiple times made your body flinch back hard, completely opposite to your bravery. You saw his hands laying in the bed right after, using them as a support to stand up.

Yeah, you’re done for.

You thought that sentence to yourself over and over while looking down, preferring to listen to the eery noises of wood cranking with every step of his than staring at his poisonous eyes.

You thought that sentence to yourself over and over while looking down, preferring to listen to the eery noises of wood cranking with every step of his than staring at his poisonous eyes.

But, instead of what you expected, he simply stared down at you from a really short distance, in one of the deadliest silences ever.

“No matter what you say… I’ll not give up until I get my freedom ba—”

SLAP!

Before you could even groan from the agonizing pain of his tough hand crashing against your soft skin, he forcefully pulled your chin back with his hand until you were staring at him again. Now, you finally managed to let out some gasps and moans of pain.

“What kind of nonsense are you trying to babble right now, hum?” He whispered like everything you’ve said yet was an unfunny joke. “You’re not going to get any sort of freedom. I don’t care what you do to fight for it.” He tried breaking your confidence down, obviously not allowing you to defend yourself.

He remained quiet for some seconds again, admiring your pathetic hope to get his hand off your chin.

Diluc sighed and suddenly used a few of his force to pull you closer to him and spin the both of you around, making your feet pathetically dance in the floor to keep yourself balanced in it, and then pushed you.

You weren’t really scared of that, since you figured you’d fall in the bed, but you were terrified of his intentions. Seeing yourself in such position under him while he stared down at you with a stoic face made you wonder of what he intended to do with you.

From saying mean things to you, from threatening the well-being of anyone you loved, from harming you physically, or even… sexually.

The natural female fear of rape, which was already further intensified due to the situation he forced you to be in, took you over.

“D-Don’t…” You couldn’t even cry for him to not harm you like that, only curl up your legs and pull the bed’s sheets to censor the view he had of your body.

Diluc never really assaulted you like that. It was pretty unreasonable to expect that from him. But the way he unconsciously mired down at your legs made you absolutely certain that he’d do it, especially considering the hundreds of disadvantages you had compared to him.

“Don’t what?” He unexpectedly turned away from you, walking to the other side of the room in a normal pace.

You hated how his mood would change like a light switch. It was barely predictable. It’d always make you act contrary to his intentions, which was either annoying to him, or funny. When you were afraid of punishment, when there was no punishment, made him proud of how he tamed you. But when you acted sarcastic or unworried when there was punishment, had his blood boiling.

You heard silver noises coming from behind. Diluc was picking up the silver spoon he had previously thrown to scare you.

“N-Nothing…” You finally managed to answer his question, still too scared to leave the spot in the bed he threw tou at.

“My dear.” He completed your sentence with a sarcastic, but angry, tone, like he was tired of having to repeat that order over and over.

“M-My dear…” You repeated like a scared noise, which he luckily found cute.

You saw him coming back to you, rubbing a piece of his suit in both sides of the fork.

“I hope you don’t mind this was on the floor a few seconds ago.” He sat down by your side again, immediately focusing on the plate that was resting between you two. “Open your mouth.” He ordered again, as if nothing that you previously said even reached his ears in the first place.

You frowned your eyebrows, barely gasping at his audacity to ignore you.

“I already said I’m not eating anything!” You found courage to stand up against him again, which made Diluc sigh in annoyance.

Diluc stood up again and didn’t have any patience before fisting his hands and unexpectedly using them against your belly. It was a single hard punch that barely knocked your stomach out of your mouth. You curled your body and groaned in pain, trying to hold your will to vomit back to its place.

“Are you really going to force me into doing this?” His voice was low, contrasting the quivering woman kneeling under him.

“Y-Yes…” Your mouth barely pooled saliva in the floor as you tried to resist that punch’s pain.

“It would be better for you if you stopped this nonsense right now.” Diluc pulled your hair all the way to the back, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

But you hardened your face and nodded side-to-side, knowing that was simply a manipulative trick of his to convince you into giving up.

Diluc sighed again, and this time, he forced you to look down, immediately meeting his knee hooking hard against your face. As soon as he hears your moan, he let his grip in your hair go too, which made you immediately fall into the ground to your back, knocked down. You could already feel your nose aching from being twisted and blood drips running down from you. With trembling hands, you tried wiping them off, no matter if Diluc was already stepping closer, this time with the plate in his hands again.

“I wonder what suddenly got you so confident like that. Did you consume anything inappropriate yesterday in the TV?” He kneeled down, beginning to aim the fork to your mouth again, thinking you were already defeated.

Even if Diluc was the kind of man to worship you and your beauty in every opportunity and take all care necessary to keep your body unharmed, what he did to you right now was the complete opposite of your expectations of him. You’d never know it, but in the end of the day, Diluc secretly thought you looked even prettier when you were bleeding, especially because it was done by his hands. The contrast in the color of blood and your skin was always something that called his attention, and seeing it in your beautiful face made him delighted.

This time, you wanted to clarify your protest, and allowed him to put the food in your mouth, only for you to turn your head to the floor and spit every single crumb of it, each one that he saw falling in the woods itching his nerves.

“Tch.” He rose his body up again, immediately proceeding to punish you physically.

This time, he decided to take the opportunity of your exposed neck and cheek to barely crush your head using his foot, stepping and rubbing the leather on your cheek mercilessly.

“Why the fuck can’t you just be a normal wife like in every other couple?! WHY?!” His foot uncontrollably raised from your face and moved down, beginning to kick and hook multiple spots of your body while he screamed “Why” a million times.

.

This was probably one of the most suicidal eras of your life. To be spanked until you were put in a hospital bed and to wake up to him immediately threatening to harm your parents if you didn’t give up in your stupid plan, or told anyone in the hospital about your relationship, when you couldn’t even speak due to the breather, was definitely a gut-wrenching nightmare.

You gave up in your plan. Thankfully, neither of you made any comments about it, even if he had every opportunity to shame you for your stupidity. That’s exactly what he used to do after one of your plans failed. He mocked you, shamed you and punished you. A true torture that you would have to endure every time you failed.

“Y/N.” He called you again as you ate dinner in opposite side of the table to him.

Your whole body flinched as you heard his voice call you. It’s been a week since your latest protest attempt and it’s been a week since you’ve begun flinching to every action of his directed to you. It was inevitable. It was your first time ever being a victim of such kind of brutal abuse. You were scared for your like to make anything that would possibly trigger him into doing it again. Although you could’ve begun acting like that on pirose to make him feel guilty, this time, your fear was genuine, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Yes, my dear..?” You still had to answer to his every call with that nickname just like he taught you to.

“Do you—…” He wanted to ignore it, but he couldn’t anymore, and sighed, giving up on the idea of ignoring you again, and starting over again. “Why do you flinch every time I interact with you? Is this another trick of yours?” He dropped his fork in his plate and begun staring at you with calm eyes, trying to get you to feel comfortable with him, or threaten you if you were lying.

You wanted to scoff at him, anger barely raising to the tip of your tongue with such ingenuity, but you swallowed it down. You don’t want to die yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.” You looked down and proceeded to eat, trying to make yourself less nervous.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” At this point, Diluc already knew you were lying about your ‘innocence’ when you lowered your head down so frenetically like that. “Is it because of last Monday?” You didn’t move any other muscle of your body rather than your jaw, biting your food as slow as a snail, to gather some courage before answering him.

When you finally swallowed, most of the accumulated saliva went down with the food too, preparing your mouth for speech.

“Is there any other alternative, hum?” You dropped your act for a moment and immediately shoved a piece of meat in your mouth again right after, fisting hard on the fork to not demonstrate him any more anger.

Diluc didn’t say anything else and just stared at you stoically for some good minutes before deciding to unpause his eating.

.

At bedtime, Diluc hugged you from behind as usual and fell asleep. You didn’t want to move a single muscle of your body, afraid he could get angry, practically curling yourself so he could hold you how he desired to and with ease. Of course Diluc noticed it too. You’d never slept so paralyzed by his side. Sometimes you’d even turn around and unconsciously hug him during your slumber, but now, he couldn’t feel a bit of comfort in the way you slept.

“Y/N.” He whispered, causing you to shiver once again.

You failed, didn’t you?

“Relax.” His voice immediately triggered you into obeying him.

You couldn’t relax your whole body, of course, but you did enough for him there, relaxing your legs and shoulders. It was enough for him not to bother you again with it.

Diluc was pissed. And your behavior was only growing his anger more and more. He did use fear to train you as a wife most of the times, but he never intended to make you so uncomfortable like that. He intended to slave you into loving him, not to slave you as an actual slave. You were doing so well previously, obeying him and still finding a few reasons to smile at him somehow, but not even gifts were turning you on now. Everything he did was like an alert to you

Why couldn’t you be a normal wife who dearly loves their husband? Every time he went to business-related parties and took you with him, he’d always meet his companions surrounded by their wives, who were happy to be holding their arms, to be wearing their rings, to be talking about their husbands to other women, while he didn’t get any of that from you. To everyone else, you were Diluc’s shy, weird and quiet wife, and now you’ve peaked those adjectives.

.

The alarm annoyingly ticked over and over, waking you up from your slumber. You couldn’t feel any weight around you, meaning Diluc had already gotten up. You sat up in the bed, leaning forward to turn the alarm off. You begun your morning by stretching your arms as usual and rearranging your pijamas back to their normal placement around your body, since they’d sometimes twist into really bizarre angles. While you prepared yourself for another depressive day, you heard the door to the bathroom slide.

“Good morning.” Diluc stared at you while walking to the closet in the opposite side of the room.

This morning, you attempted to not answer his greeting. You just weren’t in the mood of it, although that could’ve meant you’d get punished.

“If you’d like to go out today, I’ll assign a maid and a driver to take you anywhere you want to go.” His words caught you unexpectedly, especially since he was talking so neutrally about it, not even looking at you.

“W-… What..?” You could swear your eyes were shining in excitement.

“You heard me.” He refused to repeat his previous words, shrugging his shoulders as he ran his hand through his many hanged suits.

“I can… leave..?” You could feel your eyes get slightly wet.

“Yes. You have until 7 to come back. If you come home tardy, I’ll make sure your right of freedom will be reduced to zero again. And I believe I shouldn’t need to mention the consequences what will happen in case you tell anyone about our marriage.” Diluc quickly got dressed and left the room before he got any more flustered from hearing your sighs of relief and excitement. At least he was happy he managed to bring genuine joy to his beloved wife. “Goodbye.” He greeted before closing the door.

And a tear ran down your cheek.

From the relief of knowing that all your hard work had made profit.

Taglist: @the-stinky-winky @amoyanderes @kindofshyent @shyentsfoundherink @bigmantiddys @goofy-ego @luminieee

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

[anominous-user]

Double Indemnity, Veritas Ratio and Aventurine

This was originally a part of my compilation post as a short analysis on the Double Indemnity references, linking to this great thread by Manya on Twitter. However, I've recently watched the movie and found that the parallels run much deeper than just the mission name and the light cone itself, plus as the short synopsis I've read online. Since there isn't really an in-depth attempt at an analysis on the film in relation to the way Aventurine and Ratio present themselves throughout Penacony, I thought I'd take a stab at doing just that. I will also be bringing up things from Manya's thread as well as another thread that has some extra points.

Disclaimer that I... don't do analyses very often. Or write, in general — I'm someone who likes to illustrate their thoughts (in the artistic sense) more than write. There's just something about these two that makes me want to rip into them so badly, so here we are. If there's anything you'd like to add or correct me on, feel free to let me know in the replies or reblogs, or asks. This ended up being a rather extensive deep dive into the movie and its influences on the pairing, so please keep that in mind when pressing Read More.

There are two distinct layers on display in Ratio and Aventurine's relationship throughout Penacony, which are references to the two most important relationships in the movie — where they act like they hate/don’t know each other, and where they trust each other.

SPOILER WARNING for the entire movie, by the way. You can watch the film for free here on archive.org, as well as follow along with the screenplay here. I will also be taking dialogue and such from the screenplay, and cite quotes from the original novel in its own dedicated section. SPOILER WARNING for the Cat Among Pigeons Trailblaze mission, as well.

CONTENT WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF SUICIDE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

To start, Double Indemnity (1944) is a film noir by Billy Wilder (and co-written by Raymond Chandler) based on the novel of the same name by James M. Cain (1927). There are stark differences between the movie adaptation and the original novel which I will get into later on in this post, albeit in a smaller section, as this analysis is mainly focused on the movie adaptation. I will talk about the basics (summaries for the movie and the game, specifically the Penacony mission in tandem with Ratio and Aventurine) before diving into the character and scene parallels, among other things.

—

[THE NAME]

The term "double indemnity" is a clause in which if there’s a case of accidental death of a statistically rare variety, the insurance company has to pay out multiple of the original amount. This excludes deaths by murder, suicide, gross negligence, and natural causes.

The part of the mission in Cat Among Pigeons where Ratio and Aventurine meet with Sunday is named after the movie. And before we get further into things, let's get this part out of the way: The Chinese name used in the mission is the CN title of the movie, so there's no liberties taken with the localization — this makes it clear that it’s a nod to the movie and not localization doing its own thing like with the mission name for Heaven Is A Place On Earth (EN) / This Side of Paradise (人间天堂) (CN).

—

[SUMMARY OF THE 1944 MOVIE]

Here I summarised the important parts that will eventually be relevant in the analysis related to the game.

Insurance salesman Walter Neff, wounded from a gunshot, enters his office and confesses his crime on a dictaphone to his boss Barton Keyes, the claims manager. Much earlier, he had met Phyllis Dietrichson, the wife of Mr. Dietrichson and former nurse. Neff had initially wanted to meet Mr. Dietrichson because of car insurance. Phyllis claims her husband is mean to her and that his life insurance goes to his daughter Lola. With Neff seduced by Phyllis, they eventually brew up a scheme to murder Mr. Dietrichson in such a way that they activate the "double indemnity" clause, and the plan goes off almost perfectly. Initially, the death is labeled a suicide by the president of the company, Norton. 

Keyes finds the whole situation suspicious, and starts to suspect Phyllis may have had an accomplice. The label on the death goes from accidental, to suicide, to then murder. When it’s ruled that the husband had no idea of the accidental policy, the company refuses to pay. Neff befriends Phyllis’ stepdaughter Lola, and after finding out Phyllis may have played a part in the death of her father’s previous wife, Neff begins to fear for Lola and himself, as the life insurance would go all towards her, not Phyllis.

After the plan begins to unravel as a witness is found, it comes out that Lola’s boyfriend Nino Zachette has been visiting Phyllis every night after the murder. Neff goes to confront Phyllis, intending to kill her. Phyllis has her own plans, and ends up shooting him, but is unable to fire any more shots once she realises she did love him. Neff kills her in two shots. Soon after telling Zachette not to go inside the house, Neff drives to his office to record the confession. When Keyes arrives, Neff tells him he will go to Mexico, but he collapses before he could get out of the building.

—

[THE PENACONY MISSION TIMELINE]

I won’t be summarising the entirety of Aventurine and Ratio’s endeavours from the beginning of their relationship to their final conversation in Heaven Is A Place On Earth the same way as I summarised the plot of the movie, so I will instead present a timeline. Bolded parts means they are important and have clear parallels, and texts that are in [brackets] and italics stand for the names of either the light cone, or the mission names.

[Final Victor] Their first meeting. Ratio’s ideals are turned on its head as he finally meets his match.

Several missions happen in-between their first encounter and the Penacony project. They come to grow so close and trusting with each other that they can guess, understand each other’s thoughts, way of thinking and minds even in high stakes missions. Enough to pull off the Prisoner’s Dilemma (Aventurine’s E1) and Stag Hunt Game (Aventurine’s E6) and come out on top.

Aventurine turns towards Ratio for assisting him in the Penacony project. Ratio's involvement in the project is implied to be done without the knowledge of Jade, Topaz, and the IPC in general, as he was only sent to Penacony to represent the Intelligentsia Guild, and the two other Stonehearts never mention Ratio.

Aventurine and Ratio cook up the plan to deceive Sunday before ever setting foot on Penacony. Aventurine does not tell Ratio the entirety of his plan.

Aventurine convinces Topaz and Jade to trust him with their Cornerstones. Aventurine also breaks his own Cornerstone and hides it along with the jade within a bag of gift money.

[The Youth Who Chase Dreams] They enter Penacony in the Reverie Hotel. Aventurine is taken to the side by Sunday and has all his valuables taken, which includes the gift money that contains the broken aventurine stone, the jade, and the case containing the topaz.

Aventurine and Ratio speak in a “private” room about how Aventurine messed up the plan. After faking an argument to the all-seeing eyes of Sunday, Ratio leaves in a huff.

Ratio, wearing his alabaster head, is seen around Golden Hour in the (Dusk) Auction House by March 7th.

[Double Indemnity] Ratio meets up with Sunday and “exposes” Aventurine to him. Sunday buys his “betrayal”, and is now in possession of the topaz and jade. Note that this is in truth Ratio betraying Sunday all along.

Ratio meets up with Aventurine again at the bar. Ratio tells Aventurine Sunday wants to see him again.

They go to Dewlight Pavilion and solve a bunch of puzzles to prove their worth to Sunday.

They meet up with Sunday. Sunday forces Aventurine to tell the truth using his Harmony powers. Ratio cannot watch on. It ends with Aventurine taking the gift money with his Cornerstone.

[Heaven Is A Place On Earth] They are in Golden Hour. Ratio tries to pry Aventurine about his plan, but Aventurine reins him in to stop breaking character. Ratio gives him the Mundanite’s Insight before leaving. This is their final conversation before Aventurine’s grandest death.

Now how exactly does the word “double indemnity” relate to their mission in-game? What is their payout? For the IPC, this would be Penacony itself — Aventurine, as the IPC ambassador, handing in the Jade Cornerstone as well as orchestrating a huge show for everybody to witness his death, means the IPC have a reason to reclaim the former prison frontier. As for Ratio, his payout would be information on Penacony’s Stellaron, although whether or not this was actually something he sought out is debatable. And Aventurine? It’s highly implied that he seeks an audience with Diamond, and breaking the Aventurine Cornerstone is a one way trip to getting into hot water with Diamond. With Aventurine’s self-destructive behaviour, however, it would also make sense to say that death would be his potential payout, had he taken that path in the realm of IX.

Compared to the movie, the timeline happens in reverse and opposite in some aspects. I will get into it later. As for the intended parallels, these are pretty clear and cut:

Veritas Ratio - Walter Neff

Aventurine - Phyllis Dietrichson

Sunday - Mr. Dietrichson

There is one other character who I feel also is represented in Ratio, but I won’t bring them up until later down the line.

For the sake of this analysis, I won’t be exploring Sunday’s parallel to Mr. Dietrichson, as there isn’t much on Dietrichson’s character in the first place in both the movie and the novel. He just kind of exists to be a bastard that is killed off at the halfway point. Plus, the analysis is specifically hyper focused on the other two.

—

[SO, WHAT’S THE PLAN?]

To make things less confusing in the long run whenever I mention the words “scheme” and “plan”, I will be going through the details of Phyllis and Neff’s scheme, and Aventurine and Ratio’s plan respectively. Anything that happens after either pair separate from another isn’t going to be included. Written in a way for the plans to have gone perfectly with no outside problems.

Phyllis and Neff —> Mr. Dietrichson

Goal: Activate the double indemnity clause by killing Mr. Dietrichson and making it look like a freak train accident

Payout: Twice or more of the face value of the life insurance ($100,000)

Main Actor: Walter Neff    |    Accomplice: Phyllis Dietrichson

During the entire time until the payout, Phyllis and Neff have to make sure to any outsiders that they look like complete strangers instead of lovers in an affair.

Step-by-step:

Neff convinces Mr. Dietrichson to sign the policy with the clause without him suspecting foul play, preferably with a third party to act as an alibi. This is done discreetly, making Mr. Dietrichson not read the policy closely and being told to just sign.

Neff and Phyllis talk to each other about small details through the phone (specified to be never at Phyllis’ own house and never when Neff was in his office) and in the marketplace only, to make their meetings look accidental. They shouldn’t be seen nor tracked together, after all.

Phyllis asks Mr. Dietrichson to take the train. She will be the one driving him to the train station.

On the night of the murder, after making sure his alibi is airtight, Neff sneaks into their residence and hides in their car in the second row seating, behind the front row passenger seat. He wears the same colour of clothes as Mr. Dietrichson.

Phyllis and Mr. Dietrichson get inside the car — Phyllis in the driver’s seat and Mr. Dietrichson in the passenger seat. Phyllis drives. On the way to the train station, she makes a detour into an alley. She honks the horn three times.

After the third honk, Neff breaks Mr. Dietrichson’s neck. The body is then hidden in the second row seating under a rug.

They drive to the train station. Phyllis helps Neff, now posing as Mr. Dietrichson, onto the train. The train leaves the station.

Neff makes it to the observation platform of the parlour car and drops onto the train tracks when nobody else is there.

Phyllis is at the dump beside the tracks. She makes the car blink twice as a signal.

The two drag Mr. Dietrichson’s corpse onto the tracks.

They leave.

When Phyllis eventually gets questioned by the insurance company, she pretends she has no idea what they are talking about and eventually storms off.

Phyllis and Neff continue to lay low until the insurance company pays out.

Profit!

Actual Result: The actual murder plan goes almost smoothly, with a bonus of Mr. Dietrichson having broken a leg. But with him not filing a claim for the broken leg, a witness at the observation platform, and Zachette visiting Phyllis every night after the murder, Keyes works out the murder scheme on his own, but pins the blame on Phyllis and Zachette, not Neff.

Now for Aventurine and Ratio. You can skip this section if you understand how deep their act goes, but to those who need a refresher, here’s a thorough explanation:

Aventurine and Ratio —> Sunday

Goal: Collect the aventurine stone without Sunday knowing, ruin the dream (and create the grandest death)

Payout: Penacony for the IPC, information on the Stellaron for Ratio, a meeting with Diamond / death for Aventurine

Main Actor: Aventurine    |    Accomplice: Veritas Ratio

From the moment they step onto Penacony, they are under Sunday’s ever present and watchful eyes. “Privacy” is a foreign word to The Family. They have to act like they don’t like each other’s company the entire time and feed Sunday information through indirect means so that the eventual “betrayal” by Ratio seems truthful to Sunday. Despite what it looks like, they are closer than one would ever think, and Ratio would never sell out a person purely for information.

Step-by-step:

After Sunday takes away the bag of gift money and box, Aventurine and Ratio talk in a room in the Reverie Hotel.

Aventurine establishes the Cornerstones’ importance, and how he lost the gift money and the case containing the Cornerstones to Sunday. Ratio turns to leave, saying “some idiot ruined everything”, meaning the Cornerstones were vital to their plan. (Note that Ratio is not wearing his alabaster head while saying it to said “idiot”.)

Aventurine then proceeds to downplay the importance of the Cornerstones, stating they are “nothing more than a few rocks” and “who cares if they are gone”. This lets Sunday know that something suspicious may be going on for him to act like it’s nothing, and the mention of multiple stones, and leaves him to look up what a Cornerstone is to the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC.

Ratio points out his absurd choice of outfit, mentioning the Attini Peacock and their song.

Ratio implies that without the aventurine stone, he is useless to the IPC. He also establishes that Aventurine is from Sigonia(-IV), and points out the mark on his neck. To Sunday, this means that Aventurine is shackled to the IPC, and how Aventurine may possibly go through extreme lengths to get the stone back, because a death sentence always looms above him.

Aventurine claims Ratio had done his homework on his background, which can be taken that this is their very first time working together. (It isn’t, and it only takes one look to know that Aventurine is an Avgin because of his unique eyes, so this comment does not make sense even in a “sincere” way, a running theme for the interaction.)

Ratio mentions how the true goal is to reclaim Penacony for the IPC, establishing their ulterior motive for attending the banquet.

Ratio asks if Aventurine went to pre-school in Sigonia after saying trust was reliant on cooperation. Aventurine mentions how he didn’t go to school and how he doesn’t have any parents. He even brings up how friends are weapons of the Avgins. This tells Sunday that the Avgins supposedly are good at manipulation and potentially sees Ratio possibly betraying Aventurine due to his carelessness with his “friends”. Sunday would also then research about the Avgins in general (and research about Sigonia-IV comes straight from the Intelligentsia Guild.)

Ratio goes to Dewlight Pavilion in Sunday’s Mansion and exposes a part of Aventurine’s “plan”. When being handed the suitcase, Ratio opens it up due to his apparent high status in the IPC. He tells Sunday that the Cornerstone in the suitcase is a topaz, not an aventurine, and that the real aventurine stone is in the bag of gift money. This is a double betrayal — on Aventurine (who knows) and Sunday (who doesn’t). Note that while Ratio is not officially an IPC member in name — the Intelligentsia Guild (which is run by the IPC head of the Technology Department Yabuli) frequently collaborates with the IPC. Either Aventurine had given him access to the box, or Ratio’s status in general is ambiguous enough for Sunday not to question him further. He then explains parts of Aventurine’s gamble to Sunday in order to sell the betrayal. Note that Ratio does not ever mention Aventurine’s race to Sunday.

Ratio brings Aventurine to Sunday. Aventurine offers help in the investigation of Robin's death, requesting the gift money and the box in return.

Sunday objects to the trade offer. Aventurine then asks for just the bag. A classic car insurance sales tactic. Sunday then interrogates Aventurine, and uses everything Ratio and Aventurine brought up in the Reverie Hotel conversation and their interactions in the Mansion, as well as aspects that Ratio had brought up to Sunday himself.

Aventurine feigns defeat and ignorance enough so that Sunday willingly lets him go with the gift bag. After all is said and done, Aventurine leaves with the gift money, where the Aventurine Cornerstone is stored all along.

Ratio and Aventurine continue to pretend they dislike each other until they go their separate ways for their respective goals and plans. Aventurine would go on to orchestrate his own demise at the hands of Acheron, and Ratio… lurks in the shadows like the owl he is.

Profit!

Actual Result: The plan goes perfectly, even with minor hiccups like Ratio coming close to breaking character several times and Aventurine being sentenced to execution by Sunday.

This is how Sunday uses the information he gathered against Aventurine:

• Sunday going on a tirade about the way Aventurine dresses and how he’s not one to take risks — Ratio’s comment about Aventurine’s outfit being peacock-esque and how he’s “short of a feather or two”. • “Do you own a Cornerstone?” — Ratio talked about the aventurine stone. • “Did you hand over the Cornerstone to The Family when you entered Penacony?” — Aventurine mentioned the box containing the Cornerstones. • “Does the Cornerstone you handed over to The Family belong to you?” — Aventurine specifically pluralized the word Cornerstone and “a bunch of rocks” when talking to Ratio. • “Is your Cornerstone in this room right now?” — The box in the room supposedly contained Aventurine’s own cornerstone, when Aventurine mentioned multiple stones. • “Are you an Avgin from Sigonia?” —Aventurine mentioned that he’s an Avgin, and Ratio brought up Sigonia. • “Do the Avgins have any ability to read, control, and manipulate one’s own or another’s minds?” — Aventurine’s comment on how friends are weapons, as well as Sunday’s own research on the Avgins, leading him to find out about the negative stereotypes associated with them. • “Do you love your family more than yourself?” — His lost parents. “All the Avgins were killed in a massacre. Am I right?” — Based on Sunday’s research into his background. • “Are you your clan’s sole survivor?” — Same as the last point. “Do you hate and wish to destroy this world with your own hands?” — Ratio mentioned the IPC’s goal to regain Penacony, and Aventurine’s whole shtick is “all or nothing”. • “Can you swear that at this very moment, the aventurine stone is safe and sound in this box?” — Repeat.

As seen here, both duos have convoluted plans that involve the deception of one or more parties while also pretending that the relationship between each other isn’t as close as in reality. Unless you knew both of them personally and their histories, there was no way you could tell that they have something else going on. 

On to the next point: Comparing Aventurine and Ratio with Phyllis and Neff.

—

[NEFF & PHYLLIS — RATIO & AVENTURINE]

With the short summaries of the movie and the mission out of the way, let’s look at Phyllis and Neff as characters and how Aventurine and Ratio are similar or opposite to them.

Starting off with Aventurine and Phyllis. Here is where they are the most similar:

Phyllis is blonde and described as a provocative woman. Aventurine is also a blond and eyes Ratio provocatively in the Final Victor light cone.

Phyllis was put under surveillance after Keyes starts figuring out that the so-called accidental death/suicide may have been a murder after all. Similarly, Aventurine was watched by Sunday the entire time in Penacony.

Phyllis never tells Neff how she's seeing another man on the side to possibly kill him too (as well as how she was responsible for the death of her husband‘s previous wife). Aventurine also didn't tell Ratio the entirety of his plan of his own death.

Phyllis puts on a somewhat helpless act at first but is incredibly capable of making things go her way, having everything seemingly wrapped around her finger. Aventurine — even when putting on a facade that masks his true motives — always comes out at the top.

Now the differences between Aventurine and Phyllis:

Phyllis does not care about her family and has no issue with killing her husband, his previous wife, and possibly her daughter Lola. Opposite of that, Aventurine is a family man… with no family left, as well as feeling an insane level of survivor’s guilt.

Really, Phyllis just… does not care at all about anyone but herself and the money. Aventurine, while he uses every trick in the book to get out on top, does care about the way Jade and Topaz had entrusted him with their Cornerstones, in spite of the stones being worth their lives. 

Phyllis also uses other people to her advantage to get what she wants, often behind other people's backs, with the way she treats Neff and Zachette. Aventurine does as well (what with him making deals with the Trailblazer while also making a deal with Black Swan that involves the Trailblazer). The difference here is Phyllis uses her allure deliberately to seduce men while Aventurine simply uses others as pawns while also allowing others to do the same to himself.

Phyllis makes no attempt at compromising the policy when questioned by Norton. Aventurine ends up compromising by only taking the gift money (which is exactly what he needs).

The wig that Barbara Stanwyck (the actress of Phyllis) wore was chosen to make her look as “sleazy” as possible, make her look insincere and a fraud, a manipulator. A sort of cheapness. Aventurine’s flashy peacock-esque outfit can be sort of seen as something similar, except the outfit isn’t cheap.

Moving on to Ratio’s similarities to Neff… There isn’t much to extrapolate here as Ratio is more of a side character in the grand scheme of Penacony, however this is what I’ve figured out.

Neff has dark hair. Ratio has dark purple hair.

Neff almost never refers to Phyllis by her name when speaking with her, only as “baby”. The few times he refers to her as Phyllis or Mrs. Dietrichson is during their first conversations and when he has to act like he doesn’t know her. Ratio never calls Aventurine by his name when he’s around him — only as “gambler”, sometimes “damned” or “dear” (EN-only) gambler. Only in the Aventurine's Keeping Up With Star Rail episode does Ratio repeatedly say his name, and yet he still calls him by monikers like “gambler” or, bafflingly, a “system of chaos devoid of logic”.

Both Neff and Ratio committed two betrayals: Neff on Mr. Dietrichson and Keyes, and Ratio on Sunday and Aventurine. With the former cases it was to reach the end of the trolley line, and with the latter it was on a man who had put his trust in him.

As for the differences…

Neff is described as someone who’s not smart by his peers. Ratio is someone who is repeatedly idolised and put on a pedestal by other people.

Neff is excellent at pretending to not know nor care for Phyllis whenever he speaks about her with Keyes or when he and she are in a place that could land them in hot water (the office, the mansion when there are witnesses). His acting is on the same level as Phyllis. With Ratio it’s… complicated. While he does pull off the hater act well, he straight up isn’t great at pretending not to care about Aventurine’s wellbeing.

Instead of getting his gunshot wound treated in the hospital like a normal person, Neff makes the absolutely brilliant decision of driving to his office and talking to a dictaphone for hours. Needless to say, this is something a medical doctor like Ratio would never do.

Now here's the thing. Though it's very easy to just look at Phyllis and Neff in the movie and go "okay, Aventurine is Phyllis and Ratio is Neff — end of story" and leave it at that, I find that they both take from the two leads in different ways. Let me explain. Beginning with Aventurine and Neff…

Neff is the one who hatches the plan and encourages Phyllis to go through and claim the double indemnity clause in the first place. He is also the key player of his own risky plan, having to fake being the husband to enter the train as well as fake the death. Aventurine puts himself at great risk just by being in Sunday’s presence, and hoping that Sunday wouldn’t figure out that the green stone he had uncovered wasn’t the aventurine stone.

Adding onto the last point, Neff had fantasised about pulling off the perfect murder for a long time — the catalyst was simply him meeting Phyllis. Aventurine presumably sought out Ratio alone for his plan against Sunday.

Neff makes a roulette wheel analogy and talks about a pile of blue and yellow poker chips (the latter in the script only). I don‘t even have to explain why this is relevant here. (Aventurine’s Ultimate features a roulette wheel and the motif is on his belt, thigh strap, and back, too. And of course, Aventurine is all about his chips.)

Neff has certain ways to hide when he’s nervous, which include hiding his hands in his pockets when they were shaking, putting on glasses so people couldn’t see his eyes. Aventurine hides his left hand behind his back when he’s nervous: Future Aventurine says that "they don't know the other hand is below the table, clutching [his] chips for dear life", and in multiple occasions such as the Final Victor LC, his character trailer, and even in his boss form in the overworld you can see that Aventurine hides his left hand behind his back. And he is also seen with his glasses on sometimes.

Neff says a bunch of stuff to make sure that Phyllis acts her part and does not act out of character (i.e. during their interactions at the market), like how Aventurine repeatedly tries to get Ratio back on track from his subpar acting.

Neff is always one step ahead of the game, and the only reason the plan blows up in his face is due to outside forces that he could not have foreseen (a witness, Keyes figuring out the plan, the broken leg). Aventurine meanwhile plays 5D chess and even with the odds against him, he uses everything he can to come out on the top (i. e. getting Acheron to kill him in the dream).

Even after coming home on the night of the murder, Neff still felt that everything could have gone wrong. Aventurine, with his blessed luck, occasionally wavers and fears everything could go wrong whenever he takes a gamble.

Neff was not put under surveillance by Keyes due to him being extensive with his alibi. After witnessing Robin’s death with eyewitnesses at the scene, the Family had accepted Aventurine’s alibi, though he would be under watch from the Bloodhounds according to Ratio.

Neff talks about the entire murder scheme to the dictaphone. Aventurine during Cat Among Pigeons also retells his plan, albeit in a more convoluted manner, what with his future self and all.

Continuing with Ratio and Phyllis, even with their personalities and motivations being quite different, they do have a few commonalities.

Phyllis was a nurse. Ratio is a medical doctor.

Her name is Greek of origin. Veritas Ratio, though his name is Latin, has Greco-Roman influences throughout his entire character.

The very first scene Phyllis appears in has her wearing a bath towel around her torso. Ratio loves to take baths to clear his mind.

Phyllis was instructed by Neff to be at the market every morning at eleven buying things. Ratio is seen in an auction house with his alabaster head on so no one could recognize him.

Phyllis mostly acts as an accomplice to the scheme, being the one to convince her husband to take the train instead. She is also generally seen only when Neff is involved. Ratio plays the same role as well, only really appearing in the story in relation to Aventurine as well as being the accomplice in Aventurine’s own death. Even him standing in the auction house randomly can be explained by the theory that he and Aventurine had attempted to destabilise Penacony’s economy through a pump and dump scheme.

With these pointers out of the way, let’s take a closer look at select scenes from the film and their relation to the mission and the pair. 

—

[THE PHONE CALL — THE REVERIE HOTEL]

Before the murder, there is a scene with a phone call between Phyllis and Neff discussing the plan while Keyes is in the same room as Neff. Neff has to make sure that Keyes doesn’t think of anything of the phone call, so he acts like he’s calling a “Margie”, and says a bunch of stuff that sounds innocent out of context (“Can’t I call you back, ‘Margie’?” “What color did you pick out?” “Navy blue. I like that fine”), but are actually hinting at the real plan all along (the suit that Mr. Dietrichson wears.)

In a roundabout way, the conversation between Ratio and Aventurine in the Reverie Hotel can be seen as the opposite of that scene — with the two talking about their supposed plan out loud on Penacony ground, a place where the Family (and in turn, Sunday) has eyes everywhere. Despite being in a “private” room, they still act like they hate each other while airing out details that really do not make sense to air out if they really did meet the first time in Penacony (which they didn’t — they’ve been on several missions beforehand). It’s almost like they want a secret third person to know what they were doing, instead of trying to be hushed up about it. The TVs in the room that Sunday can look through based on Inherently Unjust Destiny — A Moment Among The Stars, the Bloodhound statue that disappears upon being inspected, the owl clock on the left which side eyes Ratio and Aventurine, all point to that Sunday is watching their every move, listening to every word.

Rewinding back to before the phone call, in one of the encounters at the marketplace where they “accidentally” run into each other, Phyllis talks about how the trip was off. How her husband wouldn’t get on the train, which was vital for their plan, because of a broken leg. All this, while pretending to be strangers by the passersby. You could say that the part where Ratio almost leaves because Aventurine had “ruined the plan” is the opposite of this, as the husband breaking his leg was something they couldn’t account for, while Aventurine “being short of a few feathers” was entirely part of the plan.

—

[QUESTIONING PHYLLIS — THE INTERROGATION]

This section is going to be a little longer as I will cover two scenes in the movie in a more detailed manner — Mr. Dietrichson signing the policy, and Phyllis being questioned — and how they are represented in the Sunday-Aventurine interrogation and the prior conversation between Ratio and Sunday in multitudes of ways.

Going about their plan, Neff has to make sure that Mr. Dietrichson signs the policy with the double indemnity clause without him knowing the details, all the while having Phyllis (and Lola) in the same room. He and Phyllis have to pretend that they don’t know each other, and that this is just the standard accidental insurance process, instead of signing what would be his downfall. To sell it, he gets Mr. Dietrichson to sign two “copies” of the form, except with Mr. Dietrichson’s second signature, he’s duped into signing the accident insurance policy with the respective clause.

You can tie this to how Ratio goes to Sunday in order to “expose” the lie that the suitcase didn’t actually contain the Aventurine Cornerstone, as well as there being more than one Cornerstone involved in the scheme. Ratio must make sure that Sunday truly believes that he dislikes Aventurine’s company, while also making sure that Sunday doesn’t figure out the actual aventurine stone is broken and hidden in the gift bag. The scheme turns out to be successful, as Sunday retrieves the two Cornerstones, but not the aventurine stone, and truly does think that the green stone he has in his possession is the aventurine.

This whole scene with Sunday is also reminiscent of the interrogation scene in the middle of the movie, where Phyllis was questioned by the boss (Norton) who was deducing that Mr. Dietrichson's death was a suicide, not accidental death. Neff, Phyllis, Keyes and Norton were all in the same room, and Neff and Phyllis had to act like they never knew the other. Phyllis acts like she knows nothing about what Norton insinuates about her husband and eventually, Phyllis explodes in anger and storms out the room, even slamming the door. Her act is very believable to any outsider.

Now back to the Ratio and Sunday conversation. One glaring difference between the movie and here is that his acting isn’t great compared to either Phyllis nor Neff. It never was throughout the Penacony mission. He even comes very close to breaking character several times, and is even defending Aventurine in a somewhat aggressive manner during his one-on-one conversation with Sunday, as in he literally tells Sunday to see a shrink. It’s very different from the way he was acting in Herta Space Station — like Ratio cares about Aventurine too much to keep his hands off.

It's also worth pointing out that Neff doesn't speak a word when Phyllis was being interrogated. Similarly, Ratio is silent throughout the entire scene with Sunday and Aventurine, with his only “line” being a “hm”. When Aventurine calls him a wretch to his face, all he does is look to the side. In fact, he can only look at Aventurine when the other isn’t staring back. Almost like him uttering a single word would give them away. Or his acting is terrible when it has to do with Aventurine, as he has no issue doing the same thing in Crown of the Mundane and Divine (Mundane Troubles).

So, Sunday finds out about the Cornerstones and reveals them to Aventurine, and reasons that he cannot give them back to him because Aventurine had lied. Note that in that same scene, Aventurine attempted to use the two murders that had occurred beforehand against Sunday to retrieve his own cornerstone. Similarly, when it was revealed that Mr. Dietrichson did not know about the accident policy and that the so-called “accidental death” was not, in fact, accidental, the insurance company refused to pay out the money.

Unlike the movie, this was all planned, however. The double-crossing by Ratio, the gift money being the only thing required for Aventurine’s real plan. All of it was an act of betrayal against Sunday, in the same manner as the meticulous planning as Mr. Dietrichson’s murder — To sign the policy, get him to take the train, kill him on the way, and to have Neff pose as the husband on the train until the time is right to get off and lay the body on the tracks. A key difference is that they could not have expected their scheme to be busted wide open due to forces outside of their control, while Ratio and Aventurine went straight down the line for the both of them no matter what.

From here on out, we can conclude that the way Ratio and Aventurine present themselves in Penacony to onlookers is in line with Neff and Phyllis.

—

[“GOODBYE, BABY” — FINAL VICTOR]

And now for the (in)famous light cone, Final Victor. The thing that truly kickstarted the Ratio and Aventurine ship in the fanbase, and the partnership between the two in general. It’s a direct reference to the final confrontation between Neff and Phyllis in the movie.

I’ll fire through all the similarities between the two scenes.

During the respective scenes, Aventurine and Phyllis both outsmart their partner one way or the other: Aventurine with his one-sided game of Russian Roulette, and Phyllis hiding her gun underneath the cushions until Neff turned away.

The guns are owned by Phyllis and Aventurine, not Neff and Ratio.

Phyllis couldn’t bring herself to fire any more shots after she realised she truly did love Neff. Ratio could do nothing but watch as Aventurine did what he did — he couldn’t even pull away if the LC animation is anything to go by him struggling as Aventurine firmly keeps the gun to his chest.

Neff says he doesn’t buy (believe) that Phyllis loved him. She then goes “I’m not asking you to buy […]”. The LC description has Aventurine ask Ratio “You don’t believe me?”, while in the LC animation Ratio straight up says “You expect me to believe you?” and Aventurine answering “Why not, doctor/professor?”

The visual composition of the LC and the scene are nearly identical, from the lighting to the posing to the way Aventurine looks at Ratio — Aventurine and Ratio are even wearing different outfits to fit the scene better. The background in the LC is also like the blinders in the movie, just horizontal.

In the shot where Phyllis’ face is more visible, the way she looks at Neff is strikingly like the way provocatively looks at Ratio. Even their eyes have a visible shine — Phyllis’ eyes brightly shining the moment she realised she really fell in love with Neff, and Aventurine having just a little light return to his eyes in that specific moment.

And now the differences!

Neff holds the gun in his right hand. Aventurine makes Ratio hold his gun in his left.

Neff is the one who takes the gun from Phyllis‘ hand. Aventurine is the one who places the gun in Ratio’s hand and fires it.

Three gunshots are fired. In the movie, Phyllis shoots the first shot and Neff the second and third. Aventurine unloads the gun and leaves only one bullet for this game of Russian Roulette. He pulls the trigger three times, but they all turn out to be blanks.

Phyllis does not break her façade of not smiling until the very last moment where she gets shot. Aventurine is smiling the entire time according to the light cone description, whilst in the animation, it’s only when he guides the gun to his chest that he puts it on.

So, you know how Neff meets Phyllis and it all goes off the rails from there. The way Neff goes from a decent guy to willingly involve himself in a murder scheme, having his morals corrupted by Phyllis. His world having been turned upside down the moment he lays eyes on Phyllis in that first meeting. Doesn’t that sound like something that happened with the Final Victor LC? Ratio, a man all about logic and rationality — a scholar with eight PhDs to his name — all of that is flipped on its head the moment Aventurine pulls out his gun in their first meeting and forces Ratio to play a game of Russian roulette with him. Aventurine casually gambles using his own life like it’s nothing and seemingly without fear (barring his hidden left hand). All or nothing — and yet Aventurine comes out alive after three blanks. Poetic, considering there’s a consumable in the game called “All or Nothing” which features a broken chess piece and a poker chip bound together by a tie. The poker chip obviously represents the gambler, but the chess piece specifically stands for Ratio because he plays chess in his character trailer, his Keeping Up With Star Rail episode and his introduction is centred around him playing chess with himself. Plus, the design of the chess piece has golden accents, similar to his own chess set. In the end, Aventurine will always be the final victor.

Furthermore, Neff had deduced that Phyllis wanted to kill her husband and initially wanted no part in it, but in a subsequent visit it was his own idea that they trigger the double indemnity clause for more money. As the movie progresses though, he starts to have his doubts (thanks in part to him befriending Lola) and makes the move to kill Phyllis when everything starts to come to light. It’s strikingly similar to how Ratio initially wanted no part in whatever Aventurine had in mind when they first met, but in the subsequent missions where they were paired up, he willingly goes along with Aventurine's risky plans, and they come to trust each other. Enough so that Aventurine and Ratio can go to Penacony all on their own and put on an act, knowing that nobody in the IPC other than them can enter the Dreamscape. The mutual respect grew over time, instead of burning passionately before quickly fizzling out like in the movie.

Basically, in one scene, three shots (blanks) start a relationship, and in the other, it ends a relationship. In the anan magazine interview with Aventurine, he says himself that “form[ing] an alliance with just one bullet” with Ratio was one of his personal achievements. The moment itself was so impactful for both parties that it was immortalised and turned into a light cone.

—

[THE ENDING — GOLDEN HOUR]

The ending of Double Indemnity that made it into the final cut has Neff continue his confession on the dictaphone until he realised that he wasn’t alone in the room. Keyes had come inside at some point, but none had said a thing, only listening to a dead man speak of his crime. When Neff sees Keyes, they talk for a moment, Neff says he plans on fleeing to Mexico. Keyes does not think he will make it. He tries to leave, only to collapse at the front of the elevator, Keyes following just behind him. Neff attempts to light a cigar but is too weak to do so, so Keyes does it for him.

Parts of the ending can still be attributed to the interrogation scene between Sunday and Aventurine, so I’ll make this quick before moving on to the conversation in Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Ratio and Aventurine’s final conversation together. Once Sunday mentions how quickly Aventurine gave up the suitcase, he inflicts the Harmony’s consecration on him, which forces Aventurine to confess everything that Sunday asks of. In a way, it’s the opposite of what happens in the movie — where Neff willingly tells the truth about the murder to his coworker. Aventurine does not like Sunday, and Neff is close to Keyes. Ratio also does not speak, similarly to how Keyes didn’t speak and stood silently off to the side.

Post-interrogation in Golden Hour, Ratio worriedly prods at Aventurine and asks him about his plan. He then gives him the Mundanite’s Insight with the Doctor’s Advice inside when Aventurine tells him to leave. Throughout Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Aventurine gets weaker and his head starts to buzz, until he falls to the ground before he can hand in the final gems. Similarly, Neff progressively grows weaker as he records his confession. Keyes says he’s going to call a doctor and Neff says he’s planning to go to Mexico. And when Neff collapses near the elevator, they talk one final time and Keyes lights Neff’s cigar as the other was too weak to do so himself.

—

[OPPOSITE TIMELINES AND DEVELOPMENTS]

Remember how I said the way certain events happen in the movie and the game are mostly opposite and reverse of one another? 

The Final Victor LC is the first meeting of Ratio and Aventurine, and Neff killing Phyllis is their final meeting.

Between that first and last meeting between Phyllis and Neff’s whirlwind romance, their relationship becomes strained which ultimately leads to Neff not trusting whatever Phyllis has to say at the end point of the movie. As for Ratio and Aventurine, the exact opposite had happened, to the point where Ratio trusts Aventurine enough to go along with his plans even if they went against his own ideals. The basis of the mission involved Veritas Ratio, whose full name includes the Latin word for “truth”, lying the entire time on Penacony.

Aventurine is sentenced to the gallows by Sunday after his unwilling interrogation. The movie starts and ends with Neff willingly confessing everything to Keyes.

It bears repeating, but I have to make it so clear that the trust between Ratio and Aventurine runs incredibly deep. Being able to predict what your partner says and thinks and plans in a mission as critical as the Penacony project is not something first-time co-workers can pull off flawlessly. All the while having to put on masks that prevent you from speaking sincerely towards one another lest you rat yourselves out. You have no way of contacting outside reinforcements from within Penacony, as the rest of the IPC are barred from entering. To be able to play everybody for fools while said fools believe you yourselves have handed your case on a silver platter requires a lot — trust, knowledge of the other, past experience, and so on. With Phyllis and Neff, the trust they had had been snuffed out when Neff grew closer to Lola and found out what kind of person Phyllis truly was on the inside. Phyllis did not trust nor love Neff enough and was going behind his back to meet with Zachette to possibly take Neff and Lola out. And the whole reason Neff wanted to perpetrate the murder was due to him being initially taken by Phyllis' appearance, which single handedly got the ball rolling on the crime.

Now then, how come trust is one of the defining aspects of Aventurine and Ratio’s relationship, when Phyllis and Neff’s trust eventually lead to both their deaths at the hands of the other? Sure, this can be explained away with the opposite theory, but there’s one other relationship involving Neff which I haven’t brought up in excruciating detail yet. The other side of Ratio and Aventurine’s relationship.

—

[NEFF & KEYES — AVENTURINE & RATIO]

Here is where it gets more interesting — while Phyllis and Neff are at the centre point of the movie, there is another character to whom Neff has a close relationship with — Keyes. It’s also the only relationship with no pretences, at least, until the whole murder thing happened and Neff had to hide his involvement from Keyes. Watching the movie, I couldn't help but feel there was something more to the two than meets the eye. I knew that queer readings of the film existed, but I didn't think too much of them until now. And though Aventurine and Ratio parallel Phyllis and Neff respectively, the fact that they also have traits of their opposite means that it wouldn’t be completely out of the question if parts of their relationship were also influenced by Keyes and Neff on a deeper and personal level. Let me explain.

Keyes and Neff were intimate friends for eleven years and have shown mutual respect and trust towards one another. They understood each other on a level not seen with Phyllis and Neff. Even after hearing Neff confess his crimes through the dictaphone (and eventually standing in the same room while Neff confessed), he still cared for the other man, and stayed with him when Neff collapsed at the front door. The only reason Keyes hadn’t deduced that it was Neff who was behind the murder was because he had his absolute trust in him. Keyes is also Neff’s boss, and they are always seen exchanging playful banter when they are on screen together. Neff even says the words “I love you, too” twice in the movie — first at the beginning and second at the end, as the final line. There’s also the persistent theme of Neff lighting Keyes’ cigarettes (which happens in every scene where they are face-to-face), except in the end where it’s Keyes who lights Neff’s.

Doesn’t that sound familiar? Mutual respect, caring too much about the other person, the immense amount of trust… Ratio says he’s even the manager of the Penacony project (which may or may not be a lie), and despite their banter being laced with them acting as “enemies”, you can tell that in Dewlight Pavilion pre-Sunday confrontation that Aventurine genuinely likes Ratio’s company and believes him to be a reliable person. From the way he acts carefree in his words to the thoughts in his head, as seen in the mission descriptions for Double Indemnity. Their interactions in that specific mission are possibly the closest thing to their normal way of speaking that we get to see on Penacony.

Not to mention, this is the way Neff describes Keyes. He even says (not in the script) “you never fooled me with your song and dance, not for a second.” Apart from the line about the cigar ashes, doesn’t this ring a bell to a certain doctor? “Jerk” with a heart of gold?

After solving the puzzle with the statues, Ratio jokingly offers Aventurine to join the Genius Society. Aventurine then goes "Really? I thought you’ve given up on that already", and then Ratio says it was, in fact, a joke. Solving the puzzle through brute force has Ratio telling Aventurine that the Council of Mundanites (which Ratio himself is a part of) should consider him a member. In the movie, where the scene with the phone call with Neff and Phyllis reiterating details of their plan happens, Keyes actually offered Neff a better job (specifically a desk job, as Keyes’ assistant). The two pairs saw the other as smart, equals, and were invested in each other’s careers one way or another.

Because of all this, the character parallels for this side of the relationship are as follows:

Aventurine - Walter Neff

Veritas Ratio - Barton Keyes

With the way I’ve talked about how Aventurine and Ratio take from both leads in terms, it does fit to say that Aventurine is Neff, and Ratio is Keyes in this layer of their relationship. Since we’re on the topic of Keyes, let me also go through some similarities with him and Ratio specifically.

Keyes says the words “dimwitted amateurs” in his first on-screen conversation with Neff. You can’t have Dr. Ratio without him talking about idiocy in some way.

Keyes almost only appears in the movie in relation to Neff, and barring a single interaction in Neff’s house, is also only seen in the office. Same with Phyllis, Ratio also only ever appears regarding Aventurine.

Keyes genuinely wanted the best for Neff, even offering to celebrate with him when he thought the case truly had been busted wide open by forces when Zachette entered the picture. You could say the same for Ratio, as he hoped that Aventurine wouldn’t dwell on the past according to his response on Aventurine’s Interview, as well as telling him to “stay alive/live on (CN)” and wishing him the best of luck in his Doctor’s Advice note.

Whether or not you believe that there was more going on with Neff and Keyes is up to you, but what matters is that the two were very close. Just like Ratio and Aventurine.

—

[THE ORIGINAL FILM ENDING]

Something that I hadn’t seen brought up is the original ending of Double Indemnity, where Neff is executed in a gas chamber while Keyes watches on, shocked, and afterwards leaves somberly. The ending was taken out because they were worried about the Hays Code, but I felt it was important to bring it up, because in a way, you can kind of see the Sunday interrogation scene as Sunday sending Aventurine to his death in seventeen system hours. And Ratio doesn’t speak at all in that scene, and Keyes doesn’t either according to the script.

Another thing that’s noteworthy is that Wilder himself said “the story was about the two guys” in Conversations with Wilder. The two guys in question are Keyes and Neff.

—

[THE NOVEL]

With the original film ending covered, now it is time to bring up the novel by James M. Cain. I bought the book just to read about the differences between the adaptation and the original source material, and to list a few more similarities and opposites I could gather. For this section alone, due to the changes in the (last) names of certain characters, I will be referring to Walter Huff (Neff in the movie) as Walter, and Mr. Dietrichson as Nirdlinger. The plot is pretty much the same as the movie’s apart from a couple of changes so there isn’t a need to recount everything.

From my two read-throughs of the novel, these are the following passages that stood out to me the most. Starting with Aventurine:

Walter, as a top businessman of the company, knows how to sway a deal and to get what he truly wants with what the other gives him. Aventurine is the same, reliant on his intuition, experience and whatever information he has on the table to claim the win. Him luring out Sparkle in Heaven Is A Place On Earth and his conversation with Acheron in the Nihility is indicative of that.

• "But you sell as many people as I do, you don't go by what they say. You feel it, how the deal is going. And after a while I knew this woman didn't care anything about the Automobile Club. Maybe the husband did, but she didn't. There was something else, and this was nothing but a stall. I figured it would be some kind of a proposition to split the commission, maybe so she could get a ten-spot out of it without the husband knowing. There's plenty of that going on. And I was just wondering what I would say to her." 

Phyllis, like in the movie, had been hiding her true intentions of talking to Walter in their first conversations, always saying things that she didn’t actually mean. In a similar vein, Aventurine consistently says stuff but almost never truly means any of it, which is all part of his façade.

• "And I could feel it again, that she wasn't saying what she meant. It was the same as it was the first afternoon I met her, that there was something else, besides what she was telling me. And I couldn't shake it off, that I had to call it on her."

When discussing the murder plan with Phyllis, Walter makes this comment, kind of like how Aventurine seems to operate in a way where he has a plan, but is ready to improvise and think fast when needed.

• "And then it's one of those things where you've got to watch for your chance, and you can't plan it in advance, and know where you're going to come out to the last decimal point."

Remember the roulette wheel line from the movie? In the novel, the gambling metaphor that Walter makes about the insurance business goes on for two paragraphs, mentioning a gambling wheel, stack of chips, a place with a big casino and the little ivory ball, even about a bet on the table. Walter also talks about how he thinks of tricks at night after being in the business for so long, and how he could game the system. Needless to say, insanely reminiscent of Aventurine.

• "You think I’m nuts? All right, maybe I am. But you spend fifteen years in the business I’m in, and maybe a little better than that, it’s the friend of the widow, the orphan, and the needy in time of trouble? It’s not. It’s the biggest gambling wheel in the world. It don’t look like it, but it is, from the way they figure the percentage on the oo to the look on their face when they cash your chips. You bet that your house will burn down, they bet it won’t, that’s all. What fools you is that you didn’t want your house to burn down when you made the bet, and so you forget it’s a bet. To them, a bet is a bet, and a hedge bet don’t look any different than any other bet. But there comes a time, maybe, when you do want your house to burn down, when the money is worth more than the house. And right there is where the trouble starts." • "Alright, I’m an agent. I’m a croupier in that game. I know all their tricks, I lie awake thinking up tricks, so I’ll be ready for them when they come at me. And then one night I think up a trick, and get to thinking I could crook the wheel myself if I could only put a plant out there to put down my bet." • "I had seen so many houses burned down, so many cars wrecked, so many corpses with blue holes in their temples, so many awful things that people had pulled to crook the wheel, that that stuff didn’t seem real to me anymore. If you don’t understand that, go to Monte Carlo or some other place where there’s a big casino, sit at a table, and watch the face of the man that spins the little ivory ball. After you’ve watched it a while, ask yourself how much he would care if you went out and plugged yourself in the head. His eyes might drop when he heard the shot, but it wouldn’t be from the worry whether you lived or died. It would be to make sure you didn’t leave a bet on the table, that he would have to cash for your estate. No, he wouldn’t care."

Returning home from the murder, Walter attempted to pray, but was unable to do it. Some time passed and after speaking to Phyllis, he prayed. Aventurine presumably hadn’t done the prayer ever since the day of the massacre, and the first time he does it again, he does it with his child self.

• "I went to the dining room and took a drink. I took another drink. I started mumbling to myself, trying to get so I could talk. I had to have something to mumble. I thought of the Lord's Prayer. I mumbled that, a couple of times. I tried to mumble it another time, and couldn't remember how it went." • "That night I did something I hadn’t done in years. I prayed."

Phyllis in the book is much more inclined towards death than her movie version, even thinking of herself as a personification of death. She’s killed ten other people (including infants) prior to the events of the novel. Something to keep in mind as Aventurine had mentioned several times that he attempted to kill himself in the dream, plus his leadup to his “grandest death”. Just like Phyllis, he’s even killed at least a few people before, though the circumstances of that were less on his own volition and more so for the sake of his survival (i.e. the death game in the maze involving the 34 other slaves where he was the winner and another time where he murdered his own master). Instead of Phyllis playing the active role of Death towards everybody else, Aventurine himself dances with Death with every gamble, every time his luck comes into play. Danse Macabre.

• "But there’s something in me, I don’t know what. Maybe I’m crazy. But there’s something in me that loves Death. I think of myself as Death, sometimes." • "Walter, The time has come. For me to meet my bridegroom [Death]. The only one I ever loved."

Moving on to Ratio:

Walter says several times that it’s hard to get along with Keyes, and how he says nice things after getting you all worked up. A hard-headed man to get along with, but damn good at his job. Sound like someone familiar?

• "That would be like Keyes, that even when he wanted to say something nice to you, he had to make you sore first."  • "It makes your head ache to be around him, but he’s the best claim man on the Coast, and he was the one I was afraid of."

Keyes sees Walter as smarter than half the fools in the company. Ratio can only stand the company of Aventurine in regards to the IPC.

• "Walter, I'm not beefing with you. I know you said he ought to be investigated. I've got your memo right here on my desk. That's what I wanted to tell you. If other departments of this company would show half the sense that you show—" • "Oh, he confessed. He's taking a plea tomorrow morning, and that ends it. But my point is, that if you, just by looking at that man, could have your suspicions, why couldn't they—! Oh well, what's the use? I just wanted you to know it."

After going on a rant about the H.S. Nirdlinger case (Phyllis’ husband) and how Norton is doing a horrible job, he ends it by saying that it’s sheer stupidity. “Supreme idiocy”, anybody?

• "You can’t take many body blows like this and last. Holy smoke. Fifty thousand bucks, and all from dumbness. Just sheer, willful, stupidity!"

Phyllis’ former occupation as a nurse is more elaborated on, including her specialization — pulmonary diseases. One of Ratio’s crowning achievements is curing lithogenesis, the “King of Diseases”.

• "She’s one of the best nurses in the city of Los Angeles. […] She’s a nurse, and she specialized in pulmonary diseases. She would know the time of crisis, almost to a minute, as well as any doctor would."

As for the murder scheme, they talk about it a lot more explicitly in the novel. Specifically, Walter mentions how a single person cannot get away with it and that it requires more people to be involved. How everything is known to the party committing the crime, but not the victim. And most importantly: Audacity.

"Say, this is a beauty, if I do say it myself. I didn't spend all this time in the business for nothing, did I? Listen, he knows all about this policy, and yet he don't know a thing about it. He applies for it, in writing, and yet he don't apply for it. He pays me for it with his own check, and yet he don't pay me. He has an accident happen to him and yet he don't have an accident happen to him. He gets on the train, and yet he don't get on it."

"The first is, help. One person can't get away with it, that is unless they're going to admit it and plead the unwritten law or something. It takes more than one. The second is, the time, the place, the way, all known in advance—to us, but not him. The third is, audacity. That's the one that all amateur murderers forget. They know the first two, sometimes, but that third, only a professional knows. There comes a time in any murder when the only thing that can see you through is audacity, and I can't tell you why."

"And if we want to get away with it, we've got to do it the way they do it, […]" "Be bold?" "Be bold. It's the only way."

"I still don't know—what we're going to do." "You'll know. You'll know in plenty of time."

"We were right up with it, the moment of audacity that has to be be part of any successful murder."

It fits the situation that Aventurine and Ratio find themselves in extremely well: For the first point— Aventurine would not be able to get away with simply airing out details by himself, as that would immediately cast suspicion on him. Having another person accompany him who not only isn’t really a part of the IPC in name (as the IPC and The Family have a strenuous relationship) but would probably be able to get closer to Sunday because of that means they can simply bounce off each other without risking as much suspicion with a one-man army. Which is exactly what Ratio and Aventurine do in the conversations they have on Penacony. Secondly — they knew how Sunday operates: as a control freak, he leaves no stone unturned, which is how he became Head of the Oak Family, so their acting required them to give off the impression that a. they hated each other, b. Ratio would go against Aventurine’s wishes and expose him in return for knowledge, c. there were only the two Cornerstones that were hidden. This would give Sunday the illusion of control, and lead to Sunday to lower his guard long enough for Aventurine to take the gift money in the end. The pair knew this in advance, but not Sunday. And thirdly — the plan hinged on a high-level of risk. From breaking the Aventurine Cornerstone, to hoping that Sunday wouldn’t find it in the gift bag, to not telling Ratio what the true plan is (meaning Ratio had to figure it out on his own later on), to Sunday even buying Ratio’s story, it was practically the only way they could go about it. “Charming audacity”, indeed.

An interesting aspect about the novel is that the ending of the novel is divergent from the movie’s final cut and the original ending: Phyllis and Walter commit suicide during a ferry ride to Mexico. The main reason this was changed for the movie was because of the Hays Code, and they wouldn’t allow a double suicide to be screened without reprecussions for criminals. There’s also a bunch of other aspects that differentiate the novel from the movie (no narration-confession as the confession happens in a hospital, less characterization for Keyes and instead a bigger focus on Lola and her boyfriend, the focus on the murderous aspect of Walter and Phyllis’ relationship instead of actual romance, Walter falling in love with Lola (with an unfortunately large age gap attached), etc.)

As for the ending, this wouldn’t even be the first romance media reference related to Aventurine and Ratio where both the leads die, with the other being The Happy Prince and San Junipero (in relation to the EN-only Heaven Is A Place On Earth reference), which I normally would chalk up as a coincidence, though with the opposite line-of-thought I have going on here (and the fact that it’s three out of four media references where the couple die at the end…), I think it’s reasonable to say that Ratio and Aventurine will get that happy ending. Subverting expectations, hopefully.

—

[THE HAYS CODE — LGBT CENSORSHIP IN CHINA]

I’ve brought up the Hays code twice now in the previous two sections, but I haven’t actually explained what exactly it entails.

The Hays Code (also known as the Motion Picture Production Code) is a set of rules and guidelines imposed on all American films from around 1934 to 1968, intended to make films less scandalous, morally acceptable and more “safe” for the general audiences. Some of the “Don’ts” and “Be Carefuls” include but are not limited to…

(Don’t) Pointed profanity

(Don’t) Inference of sex perversion (which includes homosexuality)

(Don’t) Nudity

(Be Careful) Sympathy for criminals

(Be Careful) Use of firearms

(Be Careful) Man and woman in bed together

What does this have to do with a Chinese gacha game released in 2023? If you know a little bit about miHoYo’s past, you would know that pre-censorship laws being upheld to a much stronger and stricter degree, they had no problem showcasing their gay couples in Guns Girl Z (Honkai Gakuen 2/GGZ) and Honkai Impact 3rd, with the main three being Bronya/Seele, Kiana/Mei (admittedly the latter one is a more recent example, from 2023), and Sakura/Kallen. Ever since the Bronya and Seele kiss, censorship in regards to LGBT content ramped up, causing the kiss to be removed on the CN side, and they had to lay low with the way they present two same-sex characters who are meant to be together. They can’t explicitly say that two female or male characters are romantically involved, but they can lace their dynamics with references for those “in the know” — Subtext. Just enough to imply something more but not too much that they get censored to hell and back.

So what I’m getting at is this: The trouble that Double Indemnity had to go through in order to be made while also keeping the dialogue of Phyllis and Neff as flirtatious as they could under the Hays Code among other things is quite similar to the way Ratio and Aventurine are presented as of now. We never see them interact outside of Penacony (at least up until 2.2, when this post was drafted), so we can only infer those interactions specifically until they actually talk without the fear of being found out by Sunday. But, there’s still some small moments scattered here and there, such as when Aventurine goes near Ratio in the Dewlight Pavilion Sandpit, he exclaims that “the view here is breathtaking” (he can only see Ratio’s chest from that distance) and that Ratio could “easily squash [him] with just a pinch”. Ratio then goes “If that is your wish, I will do so without a moment’s hesitation.” Not to mention the (in)famous “Doctor, you’re huge!” quote.

It’s not a coincidence that Ratio and Aventurine have three explicit references to romance media (Double Indemnity, Spellbound, Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince), possibly even four if you take the EN-only Heaven Is A Place On Earth as a reference to Black Mirror’s San Junipero. It’s not a coincidence that the storylines or characters of said references parallel the pairing, from surface-level to deep cuts. It’s not a coincidence that the CN voice actors were asked to “tone it down” by the voice director when it came to their chemistry. It’s not a coincidence that Aventurine has only flirted with (three) men throughout Penacony, even referring to a Bloodhound NPC as a “hunk of a man” inside his thoughts, all the while ignoring Himeko and Robin when it came to their looks — women who are known across the cosmos with a myriad of adoring fans. There are so many other so-called “coincidences” related to the two that you could make an iceberg just based on versions 2.0-2.2 as well as content miHoYo themselves have put out on social media. They absolutely knew what they were doing, and were trying to get their point across through subtle means — the extent they went to with the Double Indemnity reference while also keeping it under wraps from a “surface” level point of view is proof of this — the implications are there if you take the time to look for them, and are simply hard to ignore or deny once you do find them.

—

[CONCLUSION]

This was supposed to be short considering the other analyses I’ve seen were also pretty short in comparison, but I couldn’t get the movie out of my head and ended up getting carried away in the brainrot. I hope you could follow along with my line of thinking, even with the absurd length of this post, and the thirty-image limit. I tried to supplement context with some links to videos and wiki pages among other sources wherever I can to get around it.

I will end it with this though — the love in the movie turned out to be fake and a farce, going off track from what was a passionate romance in the beginning because of the murder scheme. Meanwhile, the whole reason why Ratio and Aventurine can pull off whatever they want is because of their immense trust in one another. What was initially shown to be distrust in the Final Victor LC grew into something more, for Ratio, someone who would have never put faith into mere chance and probability before this, put his trust in Aventurine, of all people.

TL;DR — (I get it, it’s over ten thousand words.)

Not only is the relationship between Neff and Phyllis represented in the deception and acting side of Ratio and Aventurine, but the real and trusting side is shown in Neff and Keyes. They have a fascinating, multi-layered dynamic that is extremely fun to pick apart once you realise what’s going on underneath the bickering and “hatred” they display.

Many thanks to Manya again for making the original thread on the movie. I wouldn’t be here comparing the game and movie myself if it weren’t for that.

By the way, I really do believe that Shaoji totally watched this movie at least once and really wanted that Double Indemnity AU for his OCs. I know exactly how it feels.

—

Other points I'd like to mention that didn't fit anywhere else in the main analysis and/or don’t hold much significance, have nothing to do with the Penacony mission, or may even be considered reaching (...if some of the other points weren’t). Just some potentially interesting side bits.

Phyllis honks three times to signal Neff to go for the kill. That, and the three gunshots in the confrontation. Aventurine is all about the number three.

The height difference Aventurine and Ratio have going on is close to Phyllis and Neff’s.

Phyllis had killed her husband’s previous wife and went on to marry Mr. Dietrichson, pretty much taking the wife’s place. Aventurine killed his previous master, and had taken certain attributes from him like his wristwatch and the rings on his hand and the “all or nothing” mantra.

When calling Ratio a wretch (bastard), Aventurine smiles for a moment. This is exclusive to the EN, KR and JP voiceovers, as in CN, he does not smile at all. (Most definitely a quirk from the AI they use for lip syncing, but the smile is something that’s been pointed out quite a few times so I thought I’d mention it here.)

Sunday specifically says in the CN version that he knew of Aventurine's plans the moment Aventurine left the mansion, meaning that he realized he had been played the fool the moment Ratio and Aventurine talked in Golden Hour

In the description for the "All or Nothing" consumable, teenage Aventurine says this specific line: "Temptation is a virtue for mortals, whereas hesitation proves to be a fatal flaw for gamblers." According to Ratio, this is Aventurine's motto - he says as such in Aventurine's Keeping Up With Star Rail episode. Note that in the anan interview he explicitly says he does not have a motto, and yet Ratio in the video says otherwise. They definitely have to know each other for a while for Ratio to even know this.

A big reason why Neff even pulled off the murder scheme in the first place was because he wanted to see if his good friend Keyes could figure it out, the Mundane Troubles Trailblaze Continuance showcases Ratio attempting to teach the Herta Space Station researches a lesson to not trust the Genius society as much as they did.

In Keyes’ first scene he’s exposing a worker for writing a policy on his truck that he claimed had burnt down on its own, when he was the one who burnt it down. Ratio gets into an Ace Attorney-style argument with the Trailblazer in Mundane Troubles.

Neff talks repeatedly about how it won’t be sloppy. Nothing weak. And how it’ll be perfect to Phyllis, and how she’s going to do it and he’s going to help her. Doing it right — “straight down the line”. Beautifully ironic, considering what happens in the movie, and even more ironic as Ratio and Aventurine’s scheme went exactly the way they wanted to in the end. Straight down the line.

[schlatt-love-bot]

The Babysitters Club

Babysitter Schlatt x Babysitter Reader Headcanon

Had a quite a bit of fun writing this one, paternal Schlatt really gets my heart going LMAO

Enjoy!

You and Schlatt were best friends in high school, and being best friends with a future entrepreneur only meant one thing–you were in for a LOT of money making schemes

“Well, we tried the lemonade stand, got told we’re too old…got fired from our bodega jobs for goofing off too much…what is there left for us to do?”

You could see the gears in Schlatt’s brain begin to turn, as all of a sudden he perked up. He came up with something

“Hmm…you like kids, right (Y/N)?” 

“Uhh…I guess you could say that? Why?” 

“I know the perfect business for us.”

Lo and behold, Schlatt and Co.’s Babysitting Service was created 

Schlatt would arrange a babysitting schedule for you, and most of the time you would go out on your own, babysit the kids, and split profits with him for managing your schedule

Sometimes, though, depending on how many kids were in one home, or how many sessions you had in a day, Schlatt would step up and give you a hand

Today was one of those days, as he scheduled you to solo-babysit one toddler from 12 to 3, but at 5:00? You had 5 children to keep an eye on, one who was only a few months old and the eldest being 9-almost-10 years old

Knowing you’d have your work cut out for you in the beginning of the day, chasing a toddler around a park while Mom and Dad were at a meeting, Schlatt decided he would be a kind best friend and boss and help you out

Not to mention, this was an overnight babysitting venture, and Schlatt was looking for any opportunity to spend a little extra time with you 

“So, how was the kid this afternoon?” 

“Good! He just wouldn’t stop running around, I felt like I was chasing a dog all afternoon.” 

Schlatt knocked on the door to your next house, the parents frantically opening the door, rushing you in to give you the basic breakdown before rushing out

“If you need anything, there’s our emergency contact numbers posted on the fridge, there’s a binder of basic information on our little monsters on the wet bar in the kitchen, next to that is some money to buy a pizza for dinner tonight. Need anything, call Grandma, she lives up the street. Thanks, see you both in the morning!” 

They practically ran out of the house, as you heard the 5 month old let out a whining cry, and the two eldest children began running laps around the two of you

You looked at Schlatt, your eyes wide, this was definitely going to be your biggest challenge yet

“You take the youngin’s, I’ll take the older shits?” 

“Yes, please!”

You made your way over to the crib, which housed the 5 month old, and sitting next to the 5 month old inside an adjacent playpen were a 2 year old and a 5 year old, playing with various toys

You picked up the 5 month old and instinctively began to rock the baby, making small talk with the other two kids about what toys they were playing, and other things they generally seemed interested 

“Is screen time okay for these two, or are we going the organic, touch grass way with these rugrats?” 

“Hmmm, check the binder. Mom and Dad probably have rules about screen time, maybe after dinner?” 

You heard the two kids, and Schlatt, let out a sigh of disappointment, as you watched Schlatt convince the two boys it was perfect baseball weather, and out they went

“Say, girls, do you want to go and play with some of your patio toys? It’s such a gorgeous day out, we shouldn’t waste daylight!” 

You were met with many tiny “yes”s, walking with the baby still wrapped tightly in your arms

You and the girls began to play with some of the chalk they had laying out on the patio pavement, teaching the girls how to draw out squares for hopscotch, telling them how to play

You couldn’t help yourself from sneaking glances every once in a while to Schlatt and the other two kiddos out on the lawn, Schlatt tossing low balls to the boys, acting like they knocked them out of the ballpark and insisting they “ran the bases” around him 

A smile crept up on your face, you began to grow a little jealous of whoever would be spending their lives parenting with him

“Man, you like him don’t you!” 

You whipped your head around, seeing the 5 year old staring at you, as her 2 year old sister stood behind her, snickering

“W-what? Absolutely not, we’re good friends. What do you know about liking someone, hmm?” 

“That’s the same look my mommy gives my daddy every single day!” 

You felt your cheeks begin to heat, needing to figure out a way to avoid these two little children from grilling you any further 

“Girls, why don’t we go in and get you cleaned up, you’re covered in chalk. Maybe we can see what’s in your cupboards and make ourselves a little treat, huh?”

The girls were eager to do so, running past you and into the house

The little one in your arms wound up a bit fussy, so you placed her into 

All washed up and ready to go, the girls drug you over to a box of cake mix, insisting that you help them make cupcakes 

You didn’t want to use anything without permission, though, so you sent a quick text over to mom and dad to make sure they were okay with you using the box mix with the kids

They were ecstatic you weren’t just shoving their tablets in their faces, so they absolutely allowed you to bake with them

The girls were excited, donning their little aprons they had stored in the pantry

Baby started to get interested in what was going on, peering over the edge of the playpen, so you picked her up and carried her (and a toy, just in case) over to a high chair in the kitchen

The girls excitedly showed you were everything was that you would need, and you let them have total control over adding things to the mixing bowl (fishing out egg shells, when necessary)

By the time the cupcakes went into the oven, the boys came walking into the house, dirty and sweaty, and their pants definitely stained from sliding in the dirt outside

“Schlatt!”

“What? He needed to slide into home plate, otherwise he would’ve gotten out! You wouldn’t understand!” 

Despite the unexpected bath times, the rest of the night went rather smoothly

Schlatt and yourself wrangled the kids together for some pizza dinner, allowing them to decorate their own cupcakes for dessert afterwards, and once their bellies were all full, it was time to wind things down for the night 

You tucked the baby into her crib, heading to the girl’s room to tuck them in and read a little story to them

On your way there, you glanced into the boy’s room, seeing Schlatt making sure that both the 7 and 9 year olds were set and ready for bed, telling them tales from his baseball experiences (he was the best first baseman in your school, after all) 

You didn’t want to get caught staring, so you continued forward and to the girl’s room

You helped the two put on their pajamas, tucking them in their beds before sitting in the rocking chair by both of their beds, having “Goodnight Moon” picked from the shelf to read tonight 

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air…Goodnight noises everywhere!” 

By the time you finished, both girls had their eyes closed tight, peacefully asleep

You smiled to yourself, content with how the evening has gone, looking up to see Schlatt leaned against the doorframe, the same smile painted on his lips

Heat crept up your cheeks as you placed the book back on their bookshelf, heading out of the room and downstairs to the living room with him

“So…that wasn’t so bad after all, huh?”

“Well, toots, we sure do make a pretty good team…” 

He slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer 

“Y’know…I think I saw a new side of you today. You playing ball with those two…I never seen you so…soft before.” 

“What can I say, baby, kids have a special way of makin’ a person soft...” 

He hesitated continuing, but your raised brow made him go on

“And…seeing you with that baby on your hip, the girls in the kitchen…you’re gonna be a perfect mom some day, (Y/N).” 

You began to blush, looking up at him, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were 

Before you could ask, Schlatt excused himself to the kitchen, coming back with two cupcakes in his hands, handing you one before sitting back down on the couch 

“You worked hard on these with the girls, you deserve a little treat too, princess.” 

He smirked, before swiping his cupcake against your nose, making your jaw drop

“Hey! What was that for?” 

“Whoops, here, let me get that…” 

He leaned forward, kissing the icing off your nose, his eyes plotting 

“Hmm, hold on…I think you’ve got a little something here…” 

You took this opportunity to smoosh your cupcake against his mouth, and before he had the chance to speak, you quickly leaned in, kissing him on the lips

He didn’t back off, answering your question from earlier as to if he felt the same

In fact, he swiftly put his cupcake down on the coffee table in front of you, grabbing your cheeks to deepen the kiss

“Ewww!”

“I told you so! Mommy and Daddy do the same thing after we bake together!” 

You quickly backed up, looking up the stairs to see all 4 of the kids out of bed, peering over the banister 

“Little shits, I swear to God…” 

You laughed, wiping the icing from your face before heading upstairs to put all the kids back into bed, making sure they stayed asleep this time, before heading back downstairs to see Schlatt fast asleep on the couch 

Sighing contently, you crawled onto the couch next to him, placing your head nearby his chest before slowly falling asleep yourself, feeling an arm wrap around you to pull you closer

[nolita-fairytale]

bad moon rising | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: in another lifetime, you meet mikey berzatto by chance one halloween night in nyc.

or, the fic based on this headcanon

warnings: angst, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression, not a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i wrote about grief again. shocking, i know. thank you all for your interest based on the headcanon it came from and thank you for your patience. i wanted so badly to post this around halloween and have been sitting on it since the better part of last year as one of my wips. finally, finally, it's here!! i took a slightly different approach than the headcanon, but i think it still does it justice. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the carmy taglist.

this what-if fic takes place october 2021 because it's make my heart surrender-canon that mikey and reader never met; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

masterlist

Halloween, in another lifetime:

“Can I get hands, please!” Carmy shouts out to the entire kitchen, only to be met with a strong chorus of ‘hands’ in response.

His team works together like a well-oiled machine; a tight run ship, led by a captain near-suffocated under the weight of the chip on his shoulder. 

“Chef!” you hear the sound of your general manager’s voice ring through the kitchen, causing many a-heads to turn. She rarely comes into the kitchen during dinner service unless it’s serious. Her eyes lock with Carmy’s as he looks up from his expo, as if she’s about to deliver bad news. 

His mind races through the possibilities, preparing to solve the next oncoming crisis. Could it be an undercooked steak? An overcooked duck breast? Another complaint of ‘too salty’ or ‘underseasoned?’ 

“Chef, you uh… you have a visitor,” she says instead–the last thing he expects to hear. 

A visitor? 

“Wh-?” 

“Someone’s here to see you. Says he’s your… brother??” Carmy’s ears begin to burn, as he searches for your face amidst the chaos, your gaze there to catch him even from across the kitchen. Your presence feels reassuring, like a strong man in a storm. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s knee deep into service and he cannot get the sound of tickets being added to the expo out of his head. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s uncertain any words come out of his mouth, unsure of what he’d even say. You send him a reassuring nod, and it’s as if in one look, you’ve made the decision to go. 

“Chef, you good?” Carmy hears you ask the head pastry chef. 

“Yeah, we got it. But don’t take too long,” she answers with a curt nod of approval. 

He watches as you nod again, this time in recognition of your boss’ answer, as you pull the food-grade nitrile gloves off of your hands, discarding them in the nearby trash can. Without a word, you follow Kate closely behind, exchanging a few words with her as the two of you disappear to the front of house. There’s a war inside of Carmy as he watches you go–a pang of guilt and a feeling of relief–that whatever it is, you’ve agreed to take care of it. 

In all of the years that he’s been in New York, no one’s come to see him–the possibility of it happening now, let alone as a surprise, feels improbable. 

Must be a prank or some shit…. 

It couldn’t really be Michael, could it? 

As you seek out the answer, your feet carrying you faster than you anticipated, you realize that you’re searching for a face you’ve only seen in photographs. Kate follows closely behind while you push through the front door of the restaurant only to find a man pacing just outside of the restaurant, a ghostface mask in hand. You can tell he’s been sweating, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the ones you’ve become so familiar with in Carmy, with an anxious look in his eyes as his gaze turns towards you. 

He’s certainly not the larger-than-life older brother you’ve seen in the sparse amount of pictures that Carmy’s shown you.  

“I got this, Kate,” you mutter over your shoulder with a confident nod, letting your general manager know that you’re good on your own. “You sure?” she asks you quietly. 

“I’m sure,” you answer, watching as a disappointed look spread across Michael’s face as soon as he sees that: 

“You’re not Carmen.” 

“Uh… no. I’m not,” you reply, hearing the front door to the restaurant close behind you. The man swears under his breath, and you watch as face changes from disappointment to annoyance quickly, as you try your best to come up with an explanation that may satisfy him. “He uh… he can’t come out. Not right now. So he sent me.” 

Michael scoffs with a shake of his head, his eyebrows quickly rising and falling incredulously as he takes another drag off his cigarette. 

“Shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" he asks, the annoyance obvious in his voice this time. 

You take a step towards him, your arms folded across your chest. 

“I’m sorry. I-, I don't think he was expecting you,” you answer, much more compassionately this time. 

“Right,” Michael mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. You watch as he throws the butt of his cigarette down on the pavement, before stamping it out. 

“It’s just-. He would if he could. I know it. It's just a busy night. I-... we're doing 200 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so,” you try again, and you can practically feel the disappointment (and resentment) burying itself deeper in Michael. 

“Yeah, no thanks, lady. You don’t need to explain it to me. Jagoff can’t even make time to say ‘hi’ to his brother. Sends you to do his dirty work instead,” Michael dismisses you, bitterly. 

He takes a beat. And then another, as if he’s accepted that he’s not going to see Carmy after all. 

“Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure-,” you offer, taking another step towards him. 

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he dismisses you again, this time gentler. “You don’t need to make up for his bullshit.” 

You open your mouth to say something—anything in defense of Carmy—but you’re certain that nothing you have to say will be enough for your best friend’s older brother (save for Carmy coming out here himself).

With a nod, you accept defeat, turning to go back inside. But there’s something that stops you—like you just can’t just go back inside without trying to remedy the situation one last time. This time all you say is:

“I don’t know how long you’re in town for but… we should be off by midnight.”

Michael only offers you a sympathetic smile before you slip back inside. 

—---------------------------------------

It’s not until you and Carmy are packing up your things to head home that he brings it up—his mysterious visitor—hesitant to ask the question that’s been eating at him all night. 

“So uh… was it really him? Michael?” he asks you, cautiously, as he watches your face carefully for any kind of reaction. 

“Uh… yeah. I mean, at least the guy I recognized from your pictures,” you reply, hoping that the answer (or the fact that he missed his brother) won’t break his heart. 

A beat.

“What’d he want?” Carmy asks, trying to mask his curiosity as best as possible. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Seems like he found himself in the city. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… know if you wanted me to.” 

Carmy tries again. 

“Oh no. It’s-, no I didn’t-, no, it’s okay.” 

He takes his time, making up his mind about what he wants to say next. 

“It’s weird, right? Guy can barely pick up the phone to say hello but… he can show up unannounced and just like-, expect me to drop everything?” he asks you—the look in his eyes telling you that his mind is miles away. 

“I- I don’t know, Carmy,” you reply, heavily. “Are you… do you wish you had gone instead of me?” 

Carmy’s quiet as he follows you out of the back door of the restaurant, thinking his answer over. 

“I don’t know,” he answers slowly, a lack of confidence as the words fall out of his mouth. “Maybe?” 

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel and right now he just feels… ambushed, which only makes him want to shut down. 

Instead, Carmy changes the subject back to your post-work plans, the two of you debating what kind of post-shift late night meal you’re going to have before settling on a few slices of pizza on the way back to your place. You and Carmy cut through the alley to the front of the restaurant so that you can begin your late-night sojourn, and it’s only when he spots something odd that he stops you. 

“What the fuck?” Carmy cuts you off, holding an arm out in front of you to stop you from walking any further. 

You follow his line of sight right over to a figure moving towards the both of you. In the brief glimpse you’ve gotten of the person moving towards you, all you can see is a quick flash of the ghostface mask they hold in their hands as a bus drives by, obstructing your view. 

Carmy’s heart stops, fear filling his chest as the bus speeds by, the person getting closer and closer until…

“Michael?!” Carmy shouts, squinting as he sees the man approach. His expression of pure shock leaves his jaw agape, rendering him speechless as he scrambles to try to find better words that: 

“What-, what the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Shit,” Michael scoffs playfully, with a chuckle, his breath uneven from the light jogging pace he’d kept. Michael takes note of the arm his younger brother’s extended, shielding you from him. “What? Can’t your big brother come surprise ya in the big city?” 

Carmy shoots him a look that says, ‘when have you ever done that’ and Michael nods knowingly, his eyebrows quickly raising, then lowering as he makes peace with the fact that he’s never been that guy. 

“Me and Deb… we came up for the weekend,” Mikey admits with a heavy sigh. “Tried to do something nice for her but, you know, broad’s been a real bitch-.” 

“Mikey,” Carmy warns, taking a tone you recognize—the kind he uses when he’s going to yell at the saucier for a broken mornay. 

“Right,” Mike course corrects at the volume of a mumble, heaving a heavy, yet disarming sigh. 

Carmy nods slowly as he allows some part of him to relax, his arm falling away from you as the two of you exchange a look. 

“We uh…. Got into another fight. She’s on her way back to Chicago now,” Mikey explains, the disappointment evident in his voice this time, almost as if it were an apology. 

“Sorry,” Carmy mutters quietly, as you exchange a look with him. 

“Nah it’s-, she’ll get over it,” Mikey brushes off with a shrug, his tone shifting as he extens an arm out to you.

“Fuck, where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Mikey. Mikey Berzatto,” he grins with a charm and confidence that’s been absent in both of your interactions with him till now. The smile that spreads across his face is contagious as he looks from you to Carmy, then back to you. “Shit. I’m sorry. ‘M fuckin’ jagoff, interupting your night like this. I should probably get-.” 

“No!” you protest, almost too quickly, earning a look from Carmy. “We weren’t-, we were just getting off work and were gonna grab a bite. Maybe even… a drink?” you suggest, a hopefulness in your eyes as you turn towards Carmy. 

“Yeah?” Michael asks, his interest piqued. 

“Uhm. Just gonna grab a bite actually,” Carmy forces out, sending a glare in your direction. 

“You know what’s crazy? I know a spot. With food. And drinks,” you challenge him, silently begging him to just go with it. 

“You cool with that, Carm?” Mike asks this time, looking from you to his younger brother once more. It’s the first time that Carmy thinks Michael’s ever looked to him for approval. 

Carmy’s quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to burn it all down or declare a gleeful ‘yes’ because at least Mikey wants to spend time with him. 

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Yeah okay,” Carmy finally agrees. 

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do it!” Mikey rallies. 

And as he turns to go, your voice instructing him that it’s only a few blocks from here, you and Carmy fall into stride, just a few steps behind Mikey. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Carmy threatens you—though there’s no weight to it—through gritted teeth. 

You shove him playfully, bumping your shoulder against his side as the two of you walk, answering with a promise that: “You’ll thank me later.” 

—---------------------------------------

You sit on one side of Carmy, Mikey on the other, and you can see why Carmy looks at his older brother like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars above. There’s something different about Michael—something different than when you met him just hours ago outside of the restaurant—as he corrals the three of you into a round of shots. 

As the shots of tequila arrive at the bar, Carmy dismisses his, his attention fixed to the still-full whiskey on the rocks he’d ordered earlier, just to appease his older brother. He watches you carefully as you and Mikey clink glasses before throwing back your own respective shots. 

“Carm?” Mikey asks, nodding towards the third, untouched shot glass. 

Carmy hesitates. 

“It’s fine. I’ll take his,” you jump in, half as an attempt to give Carmy the out he so desperately desires, and half because, admittedly, meeting the great Mikey Berzatto makes you a little nervous.

Before anyone can protest, you reach out, picking up the shot glass, before tapping it down against the bar top, fearlessly throwing it back. Michael watches you with a sense of amusement, as your face crinkles in response to the sting of the liquor and the bitterness of the lime you chase it with. 

He smirks, sharing a knowing look with his younger brother that says, “I like this girl,” which in turn only causes Carmy to blush. Before Mikey can say anything more, the song that blares through the speakers changes, earning his attention as he hears the familiar words:

“I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today”

“Alright, alright. Think it’s a little too on the nose if I admit that I love this song? On Halloween? C’maaaaaahn,” Mikey asks, almost as if it’s a confession in reference to the easily recognizable Creedance Clearwater revival hit. 

“No! No, I love this song,” you’re quick to assuage his hesitation as your eyes light up in response to his recognition. 

“You got good taste, kid,” Michael notes confidently, winking in his brother’s direction. “I like this girl, Carm.”

Only this time, he says it out loud. Carmy only shakes his head, the blush already running across his cheeks taking a deeper shade of red. 

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. You both uh.. Like music,” Carmy smiles, gesturing from you to his brother. At least this is going a lot better than he expected it to, he reminds himself. 

“Oh yeah?” Michael asks, clearly intrigued. 

“Oh that’s right!” you exclaim, simultaneously. The excitement that brews within you has you stumbling over your words as you manage to get out:

“You’re-, oh my god! The Lennon jacket!” 

“What?” Mike asks, shooting you a funny look. 

“I’m sorry. I just-. I realize I’m not-,” you stammer over your words, trying your best to explain your earlier exclamation over your own excitement. 

“You gave Carmy the denim jacket – the 1950s selvedge Wrangler!” 

“Just like the-,” Michael starts, the two of you finishing his sentence at once with: 

“... just like the one John Lennon had!” 

“Marry this girl, Carm. Marry her right now. Tonight! Or I will,” Michael encourages, slapping his hand down against the bar. He speaks with so much bravado and conviction that you can only imagine that there was none left for Carmy. “Fuckin’ christ. I never should’ve let you two meet,” Carmy groans on an exasperated exhale as he shakes his head once again. 

“Oh c’mon, Carm,” Mikey rouses him, with a playful eye roll. 

“It’s totally my favorite jacket of his! I-, well, it’s a long story but we actually became friends over the jacket because he spilled a drink on me and-,”

“Ahhh real smooth.” 

“No! No, it was okay, I promise. I-, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten to know each other if he hadn’t so-. Call it a lucky jacket, I guess,” you smile, stealing a look in Carmy’s direction. He shoots the smallest smile back to you, cognizant of the fact that Mikey’s observing the entire interaction. 

As you begin to tell Michael the story about the aforementioned Lennon jacket, it could be minutes, hours, or days that pass, once you and Mikey finish trading facts about music like they’re trivia cards. It’s almost as entertaining as watching Mikey and Carmy go at it, bouncing facts about the history of denim like you’re at the French Open. 

You excuse yourself to the restrooms—partially because you really have to pee and partially because it seems like this evening is going well—wanting to give both brothers some time alone. And as soon as you’re out of earshot, Mikey’s on Carmy like an FBI Investigation. 

“This your girl, Carm, or what?" he asks with a casualness to his voice that sets off alarms in Carmy’s head. 

"Mikey, stop it,” Carmy dismisses him, hoping more than anything for this to be the end of the conversation. 

Instead, Mikey scoffs, shaking his head as he downs another shot. 

"Then at least tell me you're hittin' that." 

“Michael!" Carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice this time. 

"Are you fuckin' serious right now, Bear?” Michael pushes further. “What, you're telling me you're not when she’s walkin’ around in your jacket, talkin’ about wearing your clothes to your big brother and I’m supposed to think-?" 

"She's not!” Carmy cuts him off. “She doesn’t do-, she’s.... my friend. Jus’ give it up alright.” 

"Shit. Wish I had a friend like that. Ya friends, kid, or are ya... you know... friends?" Mikey smirks, earning a venomous glare from his younger brother. 

Carmy shakes his head in response, jaw clenched, as he stares down at the bar top, a feeling inside of him that he doesn’t like when he even thinks about Mikey looking at you like that. 

"Shit, I thought I taught you better than that, Bear." 

There it is again.

That feeling. 

He’s not sure how to name it, but it’s enough to make Carmy want to deck his brother right then and there as it rises inside of him. 

"I'm serious, Mike. We’re just friends,” Carmy spits out. He’s much more serious this time. “Cut it out." 

But Michael’s too quick, his voice growing louder as he interjects on the tail end of Carmy’s insistence.

"Oh come on! The chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. And I can tell that you like her. I'm not blind, Carm. I see the way you-."

And if it’s as if something snaps inside of Carmy as he exclaims: 

"Don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life! Fuck!" 

"Carm-." 

"Can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?!” he fumes, standing up out of his chair. 

His face grows redder with each word, and it only confirms Mikey’s suspicions: that his little brother is absolutely a goner for you. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Carmy like this and he’s torn between feeling proud of his kid brother or pissed that the kid’s turning this around on him. 

"Well, if you ever bothered to come home. You know mom's been askin' about you since you never fuckin’-,” Mikey roars, eager to relinquish the hotseat here.

“Oh don't bring mom into this!" Carmy protests.

It’s your voice that snaps him out of it—brings him back to earth as he hears you ask:

“Everything okay?” 

Carmy can practically hear his heart pounding away in his ears; can feel the blood rushing through his head as he takes a deep breath. He swallows, takes a beat, then turns to you. 

“Yeah uh. I think we should go,” he states, his voice uneven and tense as you try to get a read on either brother. 

“Uh… yeah, I guess we can-, um,” you stammer out, wondering how things went from good to hell in a matter of minutes. Carmy mutters something about getting your stuff as you try your best to put the pieces together. 

“It was uh, nice to meet you, Mikey,” you say softly, as soon as you get your coat on. 

“Yeah. You too, sweetheart,” he nods, something distant in his voice. Carmen scoffs at his brother’s usage of the word before tugging on your arm. 

You wait a beat, in anticipation of some kind of goodbye between the brothers, but there is none as you follow Carmy out of the bar. 

—---------------------------------------

Halloween, again — in this lifetime:

When Carmy comes to, he can hear the faint sounds of an episode of Pasta Grannies in the background, uncertain of what time it is. 

“Hey, you. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” you say, as he begins to sit up. Carmy blinks his eyes a few more times, watching as you make your way from the kitchen island over to the couch, taking a seat at his feet. 

“Did you still want to watch a scary movie? You know, in the spirit of the holiday?” you ask him with a soft chuckle. 

All Carmy can remember before falling asleep was what he was thinking about: what it would be like if you had met Mikey. It’s something he thinks of often, especially as the two of you grow closer—as your relationship gets more serious—and it’s something he hates that he’ll never be able to give to you. 

“This was his favorite holiday,” Carmy manages to get out, the sleep heavy in his voice. 

You’re not all that surprised. Carmy’s been on edge lately and you assumed it was because Mikey’s birthday’s coming up. But this… this makes sense too. 

“I wish I could’ve met him,” you smile, reaching out for one of his hands. 

Carmy nods. 

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Think he would’ve loved you.” 

Maybe a little too much, he thinks to himself. 

“You think so?” you ask with a vulnerability and a desire for reassurance that catches Carmy off guard. 

He nods with much more confidence this time, offering you a soft, sympathetic smile.  

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know so.”

[vigilante-3073]

It’s my birthday is on Saturday! Could I have please a Gregory house x reader imagine?

Birthday Girl

Gregory House x Female Reader

Summary: It is Y/N's birthday and everyone seems to have forgotten but House.

TW: Established relationship, surprise party, House being sneaky.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 🥳🎂🎉 Hope you have the best day ever!

F/N: Father's name M/N: Mother's name

It was Y/N's birthday.

Y/N was a relatively simple person and didn't expect much fanfare on her birthday, but she at least wanted it to be acknowledged. It was almost lunchtime and not one person had wished her a happy birthday.

Y/N hadn't received a single call or text from friends or family either and it was starting to get to her. She sat alone at a table in the cafeteria, picking away at a dry muffin while trying not to cry.

Y/N looked up when House sat down across from her, her eyes quickly returned to the dissected baked good as she tried to keep herself together.

"You've been upset about something all day long. You've been virtually useless in differentials and I think I know why," House started.

"Why?" Y/N questioned softly.

He stuck a hand into his blazer, pulling out a pink envelope and setting it down on the table. Y/N glanced up at him before picking it up, she opened it and slid out a card.

It was blue with a cartoon goose in a party hat on the front, in swirly pink writing it read:

Happy Birthday, you silly goose!

Y/N felt tears gathering in her eyes, "Happy birthday, Y/N," House said.

"Thank you," She said softly.

"I made reservations for us at that fancy place you like, I'll pick you up at eight," House stated.

"Okay," Y/N smiled.

House stood up from the table, "Get some real food in the meantime, none of the stuff they bake here is edible," House said.

House and Y/N had been dating for almost three years. She was an important member of his team and feelings developed between them as they spent more time together. House always had a soft spot for Y/N and he tended to be more gentle with her than he was with other members of his team.

Cuddy and Wilson both talked to Y/N when their relationship was in the early stages. They wanted her to be careful and advised her that being with him was not a good decision.

Y/N and House worked together, he was her boss and he was House, which was reason enough for her to steer clear.

House was rude, manipulative, sarcastic and downright abrasive while Y/N was the complete opposite. She was kind, trusting, soft-spoken and generally sweet, everyone who met her absolutely loved her.

Wilson and Cuddy thought that House would ruin her.

House may not have always been the romantic type, but he definitely cared for Y/N. He looked out for her in ways that weren't obvious, discreetly checking in to make sure she was doing alright.

For the most part, House had done well with keeping his relationship out of the workplace. Other than a few nasty jokes here and there, he treated her the same as his other employees. Things got easier as time went on and Cuddy was actually surprised that he was able to compartmentalize.

The rest of the day was eventful, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary when it came to being on a case with House. The patient was lied to and browbeaten into making the decision that eventually led to their diagnosis and subsequent cure.

House drove to her apartment after they had finished the case, he brought her a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift. He made his way up to the door and knocked, breath catching in his throat when he saw her.

Y/N had always dressed well, but seeing her fully made up always managed to take his breath away.

"You look hot," He said.

Y/N smiled, "Thank you," She replied.

"Got these for you," House said, holding out the bouquet to her.

"Aw, that's sweet. Just give me a minute to put them in some water and then we can go, okay?" Y/N asked, House nodded.

Y/N made her way into the kitchen, House stepped into her apartment and closed the door. He set the gift on the table next to the couch, moving over to the kitchen and watching Y/N as she trimmed the flowers.

Y/N placed the colorful flowers into the water before setting the vase in the center of her kitchen island.

"I know you like pink so I asked for whatever was the most pink," House stated.

"I love them. Thank you, Greg," Y/N smiled.

He nodded, "We should get going, got a reservation in twenty minutes," He said.

...

Dinner went off without a hitch, they had a few drinks and shared a dessert before House walked her back to his car. He opened the door for her, she thanked him as she slipped inside.

House nodded, closing the door behind her before moving around to the driver's side. He drove back to her apartment with the radio playing softly as they talked. House parked the car and walked her up to her apartment, standing behind her as she unlocked the door.

Y/N opened the door, the lights turned on suddenly before the large group of party guests yelled, "Surprise!"

Y/N turned to look at House, "Did you plan this?" She asked.

He nodded, "I know how crazy you are about birthdays so I told everyone to keep quiet about it until the party... Then you were moping around so much that I caved and got you the card," House said.

Y/N smiled, sliding her arms around him and giving him a hug, "Thank you," She mumbled.

He returned her embrace, "You're welcome... Now go enjoy your party," He said.

Y/N pulled away, stepping into her apartment with a happy smile. Everyone was there, including her parents that House flew to New Jersey for the occasion.

House settled himself on the couch with a drink as he watched his girlfriend interact with her friends and family. He knew that he was lucky to have her, but times like these just showed him exactly how lucky he was.

Y/N almost had too many friends to invite, everyone she had ever met fell in love with her and it baffled him.

How could a person be so magnetic to everyone around them without intending to be?

Y/N had no greater motivations, she was just genuinely happy and House wanted to be like that.

Y/N made her way over, sitting down on the couch beside House and crossing her legs, "You enjoying the party?" He asked.

"I am, but you're not," Y/N stated.

"I enjoy spending time with you, not a fan of the crowd," House said.

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" She questioned.

"You just want me to help you clean up this mess," House said, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile.

"You're right, I only want you to stay over for your cleaning abilities. Not because I like you or anything," Y/N teased.

"I'll stay," House nodded.

"Good, I was hoping that you would," She replied.

"Since I managed to steal you away from your many adoring fans," He started, reaching over and grabbing the wrapped gift that he had left on the table.

House held it out to her, "Open it," He said.

Y/N took the gift from his hand, carefully tearing away the paper. She let out a soft gasp when she realized what it was, a pristine first edition copy of her favorite book.

"Where did you find this?" She asked softly.

"I've been looking around for a while," House said.

"House, this must've cost you a fortune," Y/N said, looking over the book and examining the details.

"You're worth every penny," He stated.

Y/N looked up at him, "You're a really sweet guy, House. Thank you," She said.

He nodded, "I should go introduce myself to your parents, learn what kind of craziness is in my future," House said.

"You go do that," Y/N said, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. House stood up from the couch, making his way over to Y/N's parents.

"Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Gregory House," He said.

"I'm F/N and this is my wife, M/N. Thank you for inviting us," Y/N's father said.

"Yes, we really appreciate you flying us down to see her," M/N said.

"Of course, you're her parents and you should be here," House nodded.

"We've heard a lot about you, Doctor House," M/N said.

"Don't believe everything you hear... Unless they're good things, then they're completely true," House said.

M/N smiled, "Our daughter seems quite smitten with you and I can definitely see why," She said.

"I'm a lucky guy," House nodded, tapping his cane on the ground gently.

"I was actually hoping to get your blessing to ask her to marry me," House admitted.

Her mother smiled widely, looking over at her husband, "I just need to know one thing, Doctor House... Do you love her?" F/N asked.

"More than I've ever loved anything," House stated.

"Then of course, you have our blessing," F/N said, holding out his hand to House. He shook her father's hand with a small smile, knowing that he was about to make the best decision of his life.

...

Y/N woke up the next morning, eyes fluttering open to the bright sunlight filtering in through the window. Y/N turned onto her other side, realizing that the space beside her was unoccupied. House tended to have bouts of insomnia, but usually wound up in bed beside her before she woke up in the morning.

Y/N let out a soft sigh, eyes drifting over to the alarm clock on the nightstand.

"Oh, crap," She mumbled, climbing out of bed quickly and rushing into the bathroom when she realized that she was incredibly late for work.

Y/N brushed her teeth, combing her hair and pulling it up into a ponytail. Y/N made her way out of the bathroom, searching through her clothing quickly to find an outfit.

"Where's the fire?" House asked, making his way into the bedroom with a tray in his hands.

"I'm really late," Y/N mumbled shakily, trying to keep the panicked tears at bay.

"I called in for you and I already," House said.

"You did what?" Y/N asked, turning to face him.

"You and I are out sick for the day," He stated.

Y/N let out a huff, her shoulders sinking as she looked at him, "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.

"You were asleep," He shrugged, "Get back in bed, I made breakfast," He said.

Y/N shuffled over to the bed, climbing under the blankets and settling on the mattress with her back against the headboard.

House placed the tray over her lap, "I thought I had a bit more time before you woke up in a panic," He said, moving around the bed and getting in beside her.

Y/N huffed, "You almost gave me a heart attack," She said.

"My bad... I hope that the chocolate chip pancakes and bacon I made will fix it," He said.

"It might," Y/N replied. She shared her meal with House, sipping on her coffee while he watched her.

"I have a question for you," He said, she looked over at him.

House slipped a hand into the pocket of his pyjama pants and pulled out the small velvet box. He flipped the lid open with his thumb before holding it out in front of her. Y/N's eyes widened, gaze flickering between the ring and House.

"Will you marry me?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N mumbled quietly, House smiled.

House let out a soft laugh, hand dropping onto the bed, "Did you not understand the question?" He asked.

"No... I-I don't know," Y/N said softly.

"I'm gonna ask again, alright?" House questioned, she nodded.

"Will you marry me?" He asked.

"Did you ask my dad?" Y/N questioned.

"I don't want to marry your dad, I want to marry you," House stated, smile widening.

"No, did you ask him for his blessing?" Y/N asked.

"Of course I did and he said yes. Now, I'm gonna ask you for the third time and I need you to focus because asking four times would be humiliating, alright?" House said.

"I'm sorry, I just- I wasn't ready," Y/N said, her cheeks flushing.

"Will you marry me?" House asked.

"Yes," Y/N replied, a wide smile breaking out across her face.

"Finally! My god, I was starting to think that I'd never get an answer," House said.

Y/N cupped his cheeks, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. She pulled away and House took her left hand into his, plucking the ring from the box and sliding it onto her finger.

Y/N smiled as she looked down at it, "It's beautiful, House," She said.

"Wilson helped me pick it out. He's got a lot of experience with ring shopping," House said.

"Well, I love it, it's perfect," Y/N assured.

"I'm glad you like it... Happy birthday, Y/N," He said.

[youngwonhui]

✦ live on my knees, make you see | ch. 1

*•. member: choi seungcheol x afab reader

*•. summary: the first morning of your new job doesn’t go quite as planned. Ever since then, you realized that the rest of your life slowly turned off of its axis or maybe fits into the missing space you’ve been feeling throughout your life. In the centre of it all, there’s Seungcheol. The stranger you’ve met for the second time on that same morning.

*•. genre: angst, strangers to lovers; kinda, corporate and family drama, life and misunderstanding happened in general

*•. wc: 7,723

*•. warnings: unintentionally introducing corporate drama. no, i am not projecting. maybe.

*•. cross posted in AO3

*•. masterlist

chapter 1 | chapter 2

Huffing and puffing into your first day at the new job is not ideal. But the fact that you had missed the bus and the new office building are basically needle in a haystack, so now you’re climbing upstairs, ten minutes before you’re supposed to meet your new boss.

It’s enough, probably. It’s just not ideal.

When you look up, impossibly out of breath, the sight stumped you. Nowhere was a sign that points you to the agency. Only a single black door along the hallway. Which is not the ones you’ve remembered seeing on the google maps.

Darned all the only online interviews, making you unable to familiarize yourself with the new environment. Resulting on this small kerfuffle on the very first day.

Hands on your hips, jacket slung into it, you try to organize your thought. Making a mind to knock on that door and find out some direction. That is, if there are anything behind those doors.

You are proven wrong when said door flung open. Just as you’ve raised your balled fist to knock on it. Now it just froze in the air while the figure behind the door stood wide eyed.

Immediately taking a step back and lowering your hand, you cursed your day further. It’s barely 9AM and you’re facing hurdles one after another just to get to your work. The man who you assumed is the resident behind the door remain planted on his feet. One hand holding on the knob, and another a tied-up plastic with big sign of recyclable materials on it.

You just had to get in the way a man and their trash huh?

“Hey, uh sorry I didn’t mean to disturb. I’m looking for Diamond & Carats? The agency? The address said that it’ll be in this building?” You inquire to the stunned man; hair still ruffled from sleep and clad in a mismatch pajama set. Passing moments flow when he still stares at you with what you can assumed is a shocked gaze. You hoped you don’t surprise him too much. Yet you still need some sort of answer. So you waved your hand, and the man sputters out of his thought. Muttering sorry for basically spacing out on you.

“Agency? The advertising agency?” You nodded, finally a semblance of help. “Well, you’ve missed it then. Because they’re supposed to be one floor down from here. You should go downstairs and then took a right into the corner, only then you could see the sign where the entrance is.”

“Thank you.” You were already descending down the stairs, being punctual became your number one priority for now.

Following the direction from the kind stranger, you manage to find the somewhat hidden entrance to your new office. Thankfully not looking too disheveled as you steal a glance from the big reflective glass wall displayed along the entrance. A kind receptionist has welcomed you and now leading you to a waiting room.

Way to go on your new job.

Your thought traveled back to your college days. Never were the top student, but you were always down for an opportunity of a job. That’s why you took the graveyard shift as the library’s clerk. True to your nature, the college library was never your frequent spot. That’s why the first day on your library job, this situation is almost mirroring that day. Not knowing exactly where to go.

You’re just hoping this job isn’t much like the library job. Getting more and more lost inside the maze you couldn’t even see.

Although back then the maze was clear. As clear as the big shelves by the back of those library.

As you wait to be introduced to the team, you make a mental note to thank the kind stranger upstairs. Connecting the dots, you assume he lived there as the residential tenant. Or he’s just a janitor that work in his sleepwear, which is an option you couldn’t really comprehend.

After being welcomed by your team manager, a middle aged man with some sort of sleazy tone and too much confident on his shoulder, you’re eventually introduced to your team. A small tight knit one consists of three people around your age. Soyeon, Jisun, and Chan. You were kindly informed that your predecessor left because they preferred to retire early.

“Well that’s new, but not surprising.” You smiled at Soyeon, quite literally doesn’t know what to do with the information you just received.

Accepting this job are solely based on the salary you had offered. The startup tends to offer that but hearing that your predecessor has decided to step down because they prefer to be unemployed sounds a little odd in your mind. But you kept that thought away. In store as you try to focus on every little point from the tour around office guided by your new team.

Your sleazy boss has left long ago. Making his sleazy way back to his desk before handing your introduction tour over to your team. You have a sneaky feeling that man wasn’t very fluent around the office.

They kindly explained the flow of work after introducing you basically to the whole floor. From then it’s the administrative like logging into the company’s work database, to Chan’s many tricks on working with the copy machine. Sensing that Chan is throwing out a joke, you let out a belated laughter. Half regretting how awkward and a little rude you might come out as.

Sensing that your new team are kind in nature, they probably only wanting to be kind to you so they can quickly finish any of their postponed project. Seeing that your predecessor ‘retiring’ early completely falter the team’s progress. As seen at the timeline you had skimmed through after you’re logged into the desktop.

“Thank you for all the guidance, guys, honestly. I will make sure not used the mug that shaped as a woman’s bosoms, as well as touching the Greek yoghurt in the fridge.” You dabble yourself an attempt to joke back. Relieved when each of your team laughs. They’re too kind.

Maybe your first day isn’t so bad after all.

\\

One thing you made sure in your every job are finding a safe spot for your escape from the grueling office environment. A hidden space just to have a private conversation, or better for you, smoke.

You had made sure to asks your team discreetly after the daily meeting. After your long and failed attempts to find one. To your surprise, Chan provided you with an answer. So here you are, perched on the tall wooden fence of the building’s hidden backyard/alley. Clean enough to take a breather, and discreet enough to not have too many eyes looking as it’s secluded behind the car park. You thanked whoever the building owner are for deciding to have this sort of space rather than having it unmanaged.

Exhaling through your lips, you scanned through the copies of files you had brought. Lists of report from your predecessor regarding each progress of the projects handled by your now current team. Stumped doesn’t even begin to describe your state of thoughts. Although progressing somewhat nicely, there are few times that some projects are held back due to vague reasons. And that doesn’t seem weird, but if said vague reasons are repeated many times, that’s just suspicious to your eyes.

Folding the papers and stuffing it back to your jacket pocket, you decided to put a bookmark on that and just enjoy your cig for now. Freeing your mind through the toxic stick. You cursed for not bringing your favourite scarf with you today, as the wind blew a chilling breeze to your neck. Despite the blazing sunlight.

Your eyes eventually landed to the opened window on the topmost floor of the building. There’s a man basking in the sunlight with his back facing you. The worn-out neckline of the white T-shirt are showing you a patch of skin decorated in tattoos. The view is not very clear as you’re almost ten meters apart.

There's a tuft of messy brown hair illuminated under the sunlight. It further convinces you that it's the man that helped you at your first day. Without hesitation, you picked up a stray pebble. Sizeable enough to throw and make some noise. And some noise you make as the stone make contact against the polished concrete wall. A few feet beside the opened window. And some attention you gained. The turned back now facing you.

“Hey, you.” You started, trying your best not to be too loud.

“I'm gonna assume you're trying to get my attention and not aiming straight at my head.” The man replied with a slight smirk. His eyes squint at you, blinded by sunlight.

“Don’t worry, i have great aim.”

“I see, you’re just bad with direction then.”

“Touché. You still remember me.” You laugh lightly, throwing the cigarette butt into your portable ashtray. “I still just wanted to thank you for that day you know. It was my first day here. I’m also sorry for barging like that.”

“Seungcheol, Choi. Everybody calls me Cheol. Also, no worries. The office downstairs are not very visible with their signs. I sent back too many delivery packages back down because they’re also not familiar with the place.”

“I’m Y/n, glad to meet you.”

With a mock salute and a nod from the man perched on upstairs window, your smoking break ended like that. Before you immediately rushed inside when you saw a glimpse of your watch.

Upstairs, an amused smile painted in Seungcheol lips. Glad of the surprise he got for today, in a form of you.

As it turns out bumping into Seungcheol is as easy as it gets.

From walking into the building together in the morning, to occasional talk whenever you’re on your smoke break. Whether Seungcheol are perched on his window or just simply on the level ground as yours. You don’t question as why he is making a way back to his place at 8AM, looking as if he’s having a rough night just by the nest of messy hair he’s sporting. He doesn’t question the apparent stress etched into your feature. Getting more and more prominent in each day you took your smoke break.

Once he paid a visit to the office, knocking lightly at the glass door when you’re coincidentally passing by. In his one hand is a tube of a sample posters. Mistakenly left by his door by the courier. You thanked him before turning back in. Fighting the urge to cooed at the fluffy white dog in his other hand.

On one of the mornings, you bumped to Seungcheol looking quite haggard, he blurted out that he’s just spend few nights up in a jam session. You managed to stop him as he rambled and assured him that you didn’t think that he just came back from a heist. You calmly told Seungcheol that he doesn’t owe you any explanation for the way he’s look at that chilly morning.

“Yeah, sorry for rambling. Long story short i’m a music producer. Not that it expla-”

“Hey, Seungcheol. It’s cool. Breathe.” You paused in front of the stairs. Seungcheol mirroring you before taking a deep breath. He then looks to you through his long lashes, before bursting into small laughter. Feeling how ridiculous he might have been.

“Sorry, it’s too early for me to bug you huh?”

“Nah, it’s alright. Besides, i sort of done this to you too, remember?” You continue your steps to your office. Like before, Seungcheol follow your action. Making his way back home.

“That’s true.”

The climbing up the stairs then filled with comfortable silence. Before parting ways as you had to make a turn to your office, you call to Seungcheol one last time.

“I’m a project manager. If that explained anything.” You smiled as you shrug. The sight of Seungcheol smile bid your goodbye as you turn your back to him. Heading straight to the office while Seungcheol climbs one more floor back to his house.

One night, you were working overtime to finish the last touches to the project, and you were ordering some takeout for dinner. After thanking the courier, you were helping the old man to navigate a way out when Seungcheol just making his way upstairs. Presumably going back home.

“Are you working late?” Seungcheol offhandedly remarks, pointing to the big bag of chinese takeout you’re holding.

You had ordered too much pot stickers. In your defense it was a buy one gets one promo. You failed to think out that you were eating for one.

“It happened so. Much to catch up, so little time.”

“Well, godspeed.” Seungcheol offered you a pumped-up fist as a good luck. For some reason, an impulse thought passed by your head. As Seungcheol begin his trek upstairs back to his home.

“Would you—” Your voice stopped the man. Turning to face you, mid-stairs. “Do you like pot stickers? or maybe shrimp fried rice? I happened to order too many.” You raised the plastic bags. Seungcheol looks like he's having contemplating thought.

“Sure, i could go for pot stickers.” You quickly walk over to handed Seungcheol the food, but the taller man stopped your hand midair. A question hanging by the tip of his tongue.

“Do you want some beer with your dinner? Maybe take some break?”

\\

“You're torturing yourself. A can of beer with your dinner is such a treat. You'll sleep well afterwards too.”

On a whim, you had quickly agreed to be invited over to Seungcheol's apartment. Foregoing the dark and empty office as you gather the work papers and laptop and then vacated to Seungcheol's spacious living room. Clear coffee table now filled with a spread of chinese takeout with cans of beer belonging to each of you.

Laughing at the way you've been distancing yourself with beer, Seungcheol took one pot sticker in one bite. Humming at the way the crispy skin enveloping the warm filling. You share a look of acknowledgement. Earning a thumbs up as you took pride of the restaurant you had frequent in.

“I'm giving you the number of the restaurant. They deliver faster through there rather than when you ordered through app.” You had finished with your fried rice, sipping the cold beer to wash the grease. “Although maybe they do it faster because i'm their number one customer.”

“That's too bad.” Seungcheol slumped back to his couch, a brief pout on his lips before taking another quick bite. “Guess i have to go through you so i can get fast delivery. Or some extra food.”

“You make it sounds like i'm a dealer.” You retort, looking up from editing the graph data in your laptop.

“No, but you’re kinda gatekeeping.” He points his chopsticks at you accusingly, you only shook your head before returning your attention back to the laptop.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me being here like this?” You muttered, not sparing a glance.

“Well i live here alone, And with the dog of course. If i don’t like it i can just kick you out, you know.” Seungcheol replied, accompanied by a teasing smirk and a shrug.

“Ouch, that’s not very neighbourly of you.”

“How about you? no one that’s gonna worry about you back home?”

You can only scoff lightly, fingers flying on your keyboard to fix up a typo.

“I’m a grown adult. No one have to worries about me.” You said with a tight smile on your lips.

“Well as a neighbourly duty, i’ll be the one. It’s dangerous to be alone downstairs in your office. Feel free to knock upstairs if you’re feeling lonely when you work overtime.”

“I might work overtime often to be honest. With the way the company work.” You paused, pursing your lips in slight frustration. “It’s been almost two weeks and everything is weird, well mostly my boss. My team are fairly kind and welcoming. Which is kind of admirable with the things they have went through.”

“What do you mean?” To Seungcheol’s question, you slowly put aside your laptop and hold up stack of papers you fish out of the piles you brought with you. Scooting closer to him. When Seungcheol realizes you’re showing him a bunch of companies’ data his eyes grown wide. “Are you sure you’re allowed to show me these?”

“Seungcheol you’re a music producer, what? You’re not secretly an employee of a chemical waste or biofuel company, aren’t you?”

A dry chuckle escapes Seungcheol lips as he shook his head. Slight ecstatic that you had remembered his occupation he had mentioned on a fly a few days back when you’re both making a way into the building at early morning. He had to defend the gnarly look in his face that clearly shown he hasn’t sleep or took a shower for days.

“So what is this tea you’re showing me?” Seungcheol prompted, eyes skimming through the graphs and datas you shown him.

“So to put it simply, as it turns out my boss has been embezzling money through some of my team’s old projects. And that is without them knowing. Them being my team. Not to mention his deep connection with some of our clients which, well let’s just say it could be categorized as corporate collusion.” With a downturned smile, you look over to Seungcheol who looks like he’s just been splashed with a bucket of water.

“Y/n this is big?” You nod, taking back the papers of evidence from Seungcheol’s hand. He simply doesn’t want to dip his hand further into this. “Are you- what are you going to do with this?”

“At the meeting tomorrow, i’m planning to show this to the board of investors. As well as the CEO. Some small group of people who’s in charge. I have all the data classified as anonymous but i have all of my team’s confession as well as some of other team.” You sighed deeply, a small dreaded vine weaved through you but you had remembered how some of your team has been nothing but kind to you and you can’t just let your boss use them for just a tool to fill his wallet. “I am sorry Seungcheol i didn’t mean to drop all of this corporate bullshit on you.”

“Uh, no don’t worry. I’m sure it’s been hard for you and your team. Especially since you’re new at that company.” Seungcheol assures you calmly. Shifting in his seat as you resigned back, sighing in half anticipation and half anxiety. “I’m glad you can trust me enough to spill all of this though.”

“Is it weird that i’m not very scared for this?” You rattle the stack of paper in your hand. “I kind of just wanted this to end soon so that i could continue work peacefully.”

“I don’t think it is. You just don’t want any jerk doing bullshit in your work. That’s understandable.” Seungcheol shrugged, assuring you of your feeling. The buzz in your system somewhat helps to his statement. “Although maybe you can treat your team for a drinks? When this all over? They kind of deserved it more.” Seungcheol reaching over across to grab your can of beer before handing it to you. His is already in hand, then offering a cheer. “Godspeed for your meeting tomorrow?”

“Cheers.”

\\

Relief, that’s what you feel at first. The long and winding meeting goes somewhat smoothly and as you had expected, none of them had catch up on what your boss has done. You can’t really grasp what they feel at first but the seething tone and the gradually visible lines of frustration and anger as they turn pages and pages of your so-called report of ‘evidence’ assures you a little bit.

They sent you away at noon, thanking you of what you’ve presented before you make your way back to your team room. Passing by the spacious room of your boss, feet propped up on the desk. Incognizant while doing virtually no work.

You’re immediately swarmed with question as soon as your team saw you enter the room. You quickly urged them to stay calm and make no fuss.

“Are we in trouble?” Jisun whispered lowly, the apparent anxiousness and fear shown in her demeanour.

“We all know who deserve to be in trouble. And none if it is us.” Chan’s statement followed with agreeing nods along the room. Still keeping any noise down between yourself and the team.

“Chan is right. For now, we need to keep everything on the lowkey as we let the board and the people in charge took care of the problem yeah?” You reassure the room, looking over the pairs of eyer gazing back at you with worries.

“I’m sorry, but how are you being so calm about this?” Soyeon lean over her desk, closer to you in curiousness.

“Although it’s never been this big, sadly it’s not even my first rodeo. I work in too many places where people are just jerks and serial bulshitters.” You deadpanned before turning back to the work at hand. Then remembering Seungcheol words last night, you look up around the room to your team.

Your whole life, you were never the sentimental type. Workplace relationship is never the one thing you tries to maintain. Simply because you go through your job as quickly as you need it to be. Or more like, as much as your bills need.

The situation never lets you have the luxury to pursue anything as glimmering as a love life. The acquaintances you made along the way, you are truly thankful even though at times those relationship felt like a transaction.

“Hey, listen. Is everybody free tonight? After work? Let’s get some drinks and bites, it’s on me.”

While Soyeon and Jisun exchange a look, Chan immediately raises his hand in agreement. An excited smile etched in his face, the lip piercing glinting under the light. Within a beat, Jisun and Soyeon agrees to your invitation eventually.

The impromptu celebration was the perfect cover. Your unsuspecting boss might think that you and your team simply letting loose after a long successful project, but in reality, you are celebrating for other things as well. It is also a time to regroup and properly getting to know who you’re working with. Not only the brief conversation between hustling to meet deadline that hurdles you one after another.

So now, sitting comfortably at the outdoor table of the restaurant, you’re ordering the second round of cocktails to accompany the stream of gleeful conversations going on. It’s perfect, you think. If the walls powered by your social battery slowly crumbling, you could slip away easily into the crowds of people.

Unfortunately, your coworker is the friendly type of drunk.

After letting loose of any work burden by the end of the first round. You spend the next thirty minutes trying to deflect any attention turned towards you.

“Okay, am i the only one that is getting interviewed here? None of you obviously need to know how many times i’ve been in relationship.” You laughed as you finished, then taking a sip of your beer. It reminded you of someone.

“Well, we’re basically know everything about each other here. So yeah.” Chan chuckled, Jisun and Soyeon nodded accordingly.

It doesn’t help that they basically introduced themselves as a group regarding everything you possibly needed to know. Maybe sometimes wen’t overboard when Jisun casually mentioned that Chan spent a night in jail once for beating up a pervert in a subway station.

The three has been a close friend since before they even enter the company. Somehow the synergy resulted from their friendship reflected well in each other work, yet still maintaining to keep each other in check as they strive to win a challenge. You clearly admire them. Not just at their reliability, but also the way they can found solace as well as ignited spirit. They’re each other’s person.

“I know we’re kinda not in the mood to talk about work.” Jisun hesitantly begins, earning your attention as well as a curious eyes from her friends. “But what do you think will happen? About you know who.”

“I’m sure you all read the final document i sent last night?” Your coworkers nodded. “I can assure you i’ve mentioned none of any informant, so no repercussion will find its way to you. The next step, well i can only imagine the board will conduct meeting on how to safely remove ‘you know who’. They wouldn’t like to be tricked for their money. Especially in such company like ours. Although, there’s probability that the corruption runs deep. Meaning that a few in the upper management took their hand deep in the same jar as ‘you know who’.”

You had your suspicion. Yet you still took the evidence to the board.

As cliché as it sounds, you can’t stand injustice. If anything happened, you have your evidence after long winded lowkey digging into the financial team, as well as putting together those evidence which obviously isn’t your main specialty. Perhaps because none of your job history has required you to do so.

Or worst case scenario you get fired. And that’s that.

“Wait but doesn’t it mean that there’s a chance that you might be in trouble?” Jisun voiced out. You simply shrug to push the thought aside. Right on time when the waiter had come over to deliver your drinks. You easily urged the increasingly worried bunch to drink.

“Well we can’t never be too sure, can’t we? Even if we have steel evidence. Now let’s just drink!”

The three hesitantly exchanged glances before taking a hesitant sip.

Never in your mind that you’d sacrifice this much. Just to what? Protect a few innocent people who might or might not be in trouble? You shook your head to push the thoughts away.

It might hurt to lose a steady source of income, you thought instead. But you always know one or two kid who needs tutoring, or that one convenience store that always need a part timer. A few moments to cool down before going back to the job hunt.

Disgustingly vicious cycle, but you’re no stranger to that.

You had found out that focusing on your job like a mad man is better than another path down to the edge. At least you’re well enough. But does it make you happy enough?

\\

“How’s the big bad meeting?”

Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol had made a visit to your hidden—apparently not so hidden backyard. He emerges from the parking lot exit, carrying a bundle of white in his arms. A pair of shiny glasses perched at his wavy hair as he’s cladded in a red puffer vest.

“It is neither big nor bad. It went well in case you’re wondering. Or somewhat— i don’t know.” You can’t help to shrug off. Not wanting to acknowledge the apparent silent front the upper management has been doing. It is not helping that your so-called boss is having ‘business meeting’ out of office for a few days. Which you don’t know the detail.

“Why doesn’t it sound very reassuring?” There’s a genuine concern in his tone. Shifting closer to where you stood. You instinctively put out your cigarette, after realizing that the very white bundle is his dog with a pink bow.

“Simply said that i’ve done what i need to do, and still waiting for answer. So yeah, maybe reassurance is a rare sight for me.” You paused, entire focus stolen from the man in front of you and into the fluffy being he held.

“Oh yeah, this is Kkuma. I realized i haven’t introduced you to her. She’s pretty much my daughter.” You recognized the proud smile painted on his face. As well as the soft smile with a gaze you could only describe as loving.

“Well hello Kkuma, aren’t you a cutie.” You make a small wave, bowing down closer to came face to face with the dog.

To your surprise, the little dog makes a surge forward to eventually licked your face. With a slight shock you look up to Seungcheol a moment, then back to the excited dog. You spend no time to gift her friendly scratches and pats.

“I always wanted a pet.” You begin, already pulling away to not overexcite the little fluff. “Princess Kkuma here makes me rethinking an old dream.” Your confession sends you both into a fit of laughter.

“What’s stopping you? This little princess has been a blessing for me ever since she arrives.” It’s such a sight to see a man of Seungcheol stature to hold the little white fluffy creature with such loving and care.

“Well, my whole life it was just me any my mother. And she wasn’t very well for such a long time. So having a pet wasn’t very ideal. And then after she passed, i’m just too occupied with other things, i can’t even think about getting a little friend.” You reasoned; an upturned smile quickly returns back to an unchanged face when Kkuma bark softly to you.

“Y/n i’m so sorry, i- well. You could always knock on my door, if you’d like to meet this princess.” You could feel the slight tension Seungcheol hid behind his words. But you brush it off like always.

Glancing at the time, you eventually excused yourself to Seungcheol. Hands in your pocket as you walk away and back into the building. Climbing sets of stairs back to your desk to wait around. And giving each of your teammate a reassuring smile every time you spot them staring at their screen with familiar dread.

A few days later, the rush of footsteps quickly welcomes you as you enter the front door of the office. Startling both you and the poor receptionist. You were not early admittedly, but you weren’t too late. So you don’t expect such fuss. You look up from your thick bundle of your scarf and quickly recognized your three teammates has swarmed you with a gleeful expression mirroring in each other.

“Have you check your email?”

“It’s done!”

“Ding-dong the witch is dead!”

It’s a continuous series of excited whispering as the three practically corners you back into the wall. Wide eyed and eventually realizing what’s going on, you look around the room and quickly shot an apologetic look to anyone who’s disturbed by the sudden commotion. You hastily ushered the excited bunch to your work room. Then sat them down with shushing motion like you would do with children.

“Okay. Now, with precise and workplace appropriate tone and volume, explain to me what happened.” You begin, eyeing the three as they exchange glances. Unfurling the scarf from your neck and neatly folding them on top of your desk.

Wordlessly, the bunch elected Jisun to lift up the phone in her hand and show you the email they had excitedly asks. It was a blast email, directed to everyone in the company. A short paragraph detailing that your boss, has been removed from the company for theft and misappropriation of project for his own benefit. The removal is effective immediately.

After skimming the short email signed by the CEO. You silently look up with mouth slightly agape in surprised. Then beginning to open your own mailbox to check if it’s not a mere trickery.

Sure to it, there’s the same email but followed by a private message directed only to you. Simply stating that your boss has been taken on a business trip as a trick from the board and CEO to corner him and break the news to him. To minimalize the possibility of commotion in the office. Also to keep things private and and as lowkey as possible. The next step as well as evidence already handed to the legal team to investigate further.

You try to suppress a smile. Bad thing to overjoy over one's misfortune. But the relief you felt feeling like it’s a pure oxygen flowing through your vein. Simply invigorating, as clearly shown between the three in front of you.

As if an invisible chain just came off of them. Jisun, Soyeon, and Chan has a continuous smile etched to their face even until one by one said goodbye to you once the clock hits 5PM. As you begin to clean up and get ready to go home, you can’t help to smile to yourself as well. Quite in disbelief over the amount of happiness you can get over helping people. You team who you barely know for less than six months.

Suddenly your thought flew to the man resides upstairs.

Then, in a blink of an eye your feet have led you there. Knocking the door with a pack of beer Chan has hidden in his secret stash beside the copier. You had promised to repay him back.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Holding up the beer in your hand, Seungcheol show off his smile before stepping aside and letting you in. Unlike the first time that you’re welcome to a fairly kempt place, now there’s a few splayed-out papers in the coffee table surrounding the crumpled-up burger wrappers as well as half eaten fries. Complete with clothes strewn all over the place, you try to maintain a straight face but Seungcheol’s quick senses are faster.

“Wait, let me clean up a little.” Seungcheol rushes to throw away any trash, his quick steps eventually pulling the attention of his dog. Which ended up being too curious and following every step he takes. “Kkuma, please. I almost walk all over you.”

Feeling rather burdensome, you quickly put the beers down and then you try to gain Kkuma’s attention instead to distract her from hindering Seungcheol’s attempt. Still walking around the apartment, Seungcheol mouthing a thank you as he collects a T-shirt on top of the dining table. You had made your spot on the hallway, sitting cross legged on the floor as Kkuma whimpering softly to gain your full attention. Her paw tapping lightly at the end of your soft scarf.

Moments later, Seungcheol re-appear with a grin. Catching his breath in a new set of clothes and a beanie. Presumably hiding a wild tuft of hair. You shot him an impressed look. Eyes widened and a questioning smile over the attire change.

“I sweat too much from running around.” He simply reasoned, joining you on the floor. His eyes trained to his dog. Kkuma already curled up beside you, chewing a strawberry plushie. You had delegated your scarf as a makeshift cushion beside her when Kkuma persist on the colourful garment that’s previously wrapped around your neck.

“I’m sorry though, i don’t mean to barge in tonight. I shouldn’t hav-”

“Shush, you’re bringing me beer.” Seungcheol leaned back across from you. You could see signs of exhaustion in his face and it brought a feeling similar of sadness in you. “Besides, i’ve been in such a rut. I couldn’t find time to clean up at all. So, you being here is kinda helping.”

Offering a can to him, he quickly opens it before clinking it to your already opened ones.

“So, to what do i owe the pleasure?” Seungcheol questions.

“Well now i-” You hesitated for a moment. Feeling the lump of unease slowly coming up, barging in and bringing your good mood when Seungcheol is showing fatigue while having no time to even clean up his apartment. But the look in his eyes. The big and encouraging look that lies atop his somewhat charming eyebags. “Well i have good news about my boss.”

You try to not imagine how Seungcheol’s eyes glow brighter upon your words. Then, to your following silence Seungcheol quickly nods in understanding over your slight hesitation. You continue while explaining that there’s so little that you can really share around. So, he took your good news with him, that’s enough.

“I’m sorry.” Your pardon took his full attention. “I came here without thinking and just barging in like a kid in a candy store.” You smile apologetically.

“No Y/n, you shouldn’t. It’s a weird corporate thing, i truly understand. I think i should be the one to apologize though. You’re here hoping to share the good news with a friend and met with a shipwreck instead.” Seungcheol chuckled, then taking a swig of his beer. The can seemingly light in his grip with the speed he’s taken to down the content.

The silence followed drowns his word to realization. The heaviness of it. The bitter smile Seungcheol tries to hide eventually surfacing. Its appearance further prove the state Seungcheol is in. His initial jokes have lost its meaning when reality kicks in.

“You’re not a shipwreck Seungcheol.” You voiced out softly. “I might be in no help in an artistic or musical side, but hey since we’re ‘friend’ then you can talk to me.” Your emphasis on friend instantly bursting out a smile from Seungcheol. Yours followed suit.

“It’s the usual, really. I get too overwhelmed with work and then can’t really write anything worth a dime. Then, i neglect everything before indulging on unhealthy meal before forcing myself to stay awake until i get any semblance of some melody that’s maybe good enough.” Seungcheol smiles bitterly, crushing the empty can of beer into the wooden floor before fidgeting with his beanie.

You blinked at the sight in front of you. Minding the dog that’s now fallen fast asleep on your side, you make a shift forward to sit right in front of Seungcheol. Now his attention is up to you.

“Give me your hand, both of them.” You hold out your palm to Seungcheol. To your little surprise, he gives in to lay both of his hand on top of yours. Palms up as you shot him a quick thanks before bringing his hand together, yours enclosing around his interlaced fingers. “It’ll be better if you close your eyes.” Seuncheol follows suit. Sighing when he can feel your hands squeezing his before caressing it softly. “My mom used to do this to me out of nowhere. When she became sick at the hospital, she does this whenever i’m about to leave. I like to think that’s her way to make me feel calm.”

Seungcheol eyes flutter open at your recollection. He’s welcomed by the sight of your smiling face down to the joined hands. With all his might, Seungcheol swallowed down the words he’s about to say. He likes to think that his body remembers. Years and years have passed but his body remembers.

How nice it is to be held by you.

“Your mother sounds great.” Seungcheol find himself whispers. Quickly replied by your chuckle before you let go of his hand and giving it one last pat. Seungcheol tries to hold back the whine in his throat.

Thankfully you didn’t make change on your proximity.

“Well she’s like most mothers. All great until she thinks their child is causing trouble. Which is probably most of the time for her.” You paused, a whisper of smile grazing your face. As it’s been a long time since you talk about your mother. The sudden topic of reminiscence jogs a happy memory in your mind. “Although i do understand her. It’s never been easy to raise a child alone, right?”

“Not that i have a child, but i think so.” Seungcheol would like to know more about your story, but for now he’s willing to stay where he’s at. Straying off of any possible uncomfortable topic.

You squint your eyes playfully at Seungcheol. Taking note of how the lines in his face has visibly soften. You like to think he’s loosened up due to the alcohol in his bloodstream. But you might never know.

“How could you disregard Kkuma like that. She’s right there.”

Seungcheol covers his mouth to stop himself to burst out laughing. Doesn’t wanna disturb his dog snoozing nearby, his heart clenched at the sight of your scarf. You smile at the way the outer corner of his eyes wrinkle endearingly and the dimple deepened. But he might never know.

\\

It is safe to say that work has been smooth sailing as of late. Although there’s small commotion outside of your boss’ office, when the legal team is doing a sweep of any document in there. Now, the room remained locked with its lights off. Hiding all the remnants of strewn papers and anything that’s deemed unimportant.

It sparks a happiness when you observe how your team work happily day by day. Unlike the first time you saw them, how they reminded you of a litter of abandoned kitten.

Sure, you and your team need to adjust to your new team manager, but the transition has been a trouble-free one. And you thanked your team for the full cooperation. Helping you when bumped into any obstacle regarding all the old files or project.

The day ended when your team manager thanked you and your team for the recent successful pitch on an ad campaign. Grinning the moment your team manager left, Chan sets off a howling cheer with the rest in tow.

“So, anyone up for a celebration?” You voiced out the idea, which sadly met with uneasy exchange of glances.

“I have to take a raincheck on that. I got a date waiting for me at the italian restaurant nearby.” Chan quickly shoulders on his bag and make a quick exit. Probably trying to avoid his friends teasing.

“We’re so sorry Y/n we got a pre-ordered tickets for a movie. But you’re welcome to join in? I’m sure there’s still available ticket.” Jisun points to herself and Soyeon, eyes all expectants.

But you noticed the small underlying hesitancy in both. You could easily interpret it, you weren’t born yesterday.

“Ahh, no i wouldn’t want to impose on your date.” You said that with a wink. Hoping to alleviate any awkwardness as your words send the two into a fit of giggle.

Quickly saying goodbye, they left you to your own device. The opened window on your desktop is just showing mostly planning for new project meeting. You feel like you’re owed to have a night off. The sun is barely setting, you’re contemplating to pay Seungcheol another surprise visit.

And then you did.

As a repayment for taking Chan’s stock of refreshment, you had stocked the mini fridge used by your team. Beers, gatorade, or even the mango yoghurt Jisun always have for dessert. You took enough beer and then sets off upstairs. Bidding goodbye to any employee still hanging around to finish a deadline or just simply wasting time until the night falls.

With your shirt already unbuttoned at two top, and jacket slung on your arm, you try you best to look as relaxed as possible.

It’s weird that nowadays, these habits came to you like it’s deserved. Visiting Seungcheol always resulting in a time spent inside a bubble of coziness. Where you could let down all guards and freely let yourself laughs as he makes a cute mistake when he’s trying to brag about his cooking skill. Or when Kkuma refuses to listen to him and Seungcheol proudly calling it a talent.

A chuckle escaped your lips, standing in front of the familiar door as you wait for the resident to opens it and welcomes you in. You almost looking forward to seeing the messy tuft of hair, sometimes falls down into his long lashes but never quite obstructing his view as you noticed that Seungcheol has this habit to runs his fingers to his hair as an attempt to keep it in place.

Eventually you hear the doorknob clicking open. Looking up, the sight welcomes you are far from what you had expected. Not even in million years as a pair of bright brown eyes knock the air out of your lungs completely.

The figure behind the door was not Seungcheol. But it wasn’t a stranger. Yet not an acquaintance either. Just another person who had made appearance in your thought. Glued to an idea, imagination of all the ‘what could’ and ‘what if’.

You had never been shy to admit that your mother raises you as an unwed single mother. People had never been nosy enough to seek out why, or where your father has been. It seems like it’s clear in your demeanor that you’re not even gonna acknowledge him in your life.

People could assume, but you and your mother knew the truth. Of your father’s whereabout and how his life going. Possibly thousand miles away from the life he left behind, and into the one he actually lived with a new family.

One of them you saw today.

“Y/n?” The stranger muttered. The proximity allowing you to hear it loud and clear.

You feel like you can’t breathe, yet your bloodstream flow quicker that waterfalls. The can of beer already drops to the floor. As you took a stumbling step back, your confounding mind tries to plan a way to escape the present situation.

Pivoting on an unsure foot, you almost stumble before making your way to the stairs. Hands flew to make it to the handle, but there’s faster ones giving you balance. The familiar dark pool of brown eyes came to your sight.

“S- seungcheol.” The words barely made it out of your lips, but the important ones never.

No explanation of why you’re fleeing from his opened front door while clearly in distress. Well, it’s not that you have extensive explanation as of why your father’s son suddenly made an appearance into your life. So you could only remain silent as your shaking arms held tight by Seungcheol.

Steadying Kkuma in his other hand, Seungcheol gaze back to his opened front door. Frowning at the sight of the frozen figure, pale as his eyes fixed to the back of your neck as if he’s seen a ghost. Bright brown eyes not even looking at the questioning glare from Seungcheol. “Hansol?”

With this you shook your arms free of Seungcheol’s hold and then making your way down the stairs and out of the building. Disregarding the faint call from Seungcheol in your rush.

\\

|| next chapter

fun fact, the first excerpts written for this fic was in 2017

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 93 (Finally Coming Clean)

When Conrad arrived home on Friday night, Ash was in the city. He took a shower, joining Heather in the kitchen while she cooked dinner and talked about Ray Pierce, the Landgraabs' driver who she'd met that afternoon. "He seems as nice as Ash says. It's just annoying I had to find out about him from my son and not his father."

Conrad didn't say much; he couldn't exactly chastise Malcolm for keeping secrets from her. Lavender was awake and Conrad practiced sitting with her for a while, putting her to bed as the scent of chicken stir-fry wafted up the stairs.

He went to the kitchen, smiling at the setup of food and candles at their dining table. "You didn't have to do all this." He kissed her cheek. "What's the occasion?"

"The occasion is, I love you. I just wanted to take away a little stress from your day."

He frowned, and his hands went limp around her waist. "Heather, I need to tell you something. The case I told you about that's been driving me crazy...I backed out of it yesterday morning."

She looked at him, confused. "Maybe that's for the best. But it's not like you to give up on a case."

"I had to let this one go. It was kind of...it wasn't an official case. I've been looking for someone off the books for close to six months."

"Why? Is it someone you know?"

He nodded, and she followed him to sit across from him at the kitchen table. "There's so much about my past I haven't been able to tell you. I should have said something long before I moved in, but I'd convinced myself it was totally in my past and would never be an issue."

"What is it?"

"Do you remember that woman who was looking in our windows when you were pregnant? I wasn't sure at the time, but I got the cameras as a precaution, regardless. She started texting me after Lavender was born."

"Who is she?"

He took a deep breath. "She's my ex."

"Conrad, what does she want?"

"Me. She only wants me. But she can't have me so she's..."

"Is she dangerous? Is this the college girlfriend who cheated on you and broke your heart?"

"Same one. Her name's Ximena Bonilla and she's a little...erratic. But she might not be as dangerous as the people she associates with."

"Who does she associate with?"

"Selvadoradian cartels. She's a drug dealer."

The shock and confusion on Heather's face turned to anger. "How do you know her?"

"I met her when I was in college. She said she was a student and convinced me for almost a year. She was raising her kid brother, Rafa, by herself and escaped being trafficked by the cartel by running drugs for them instead. When I found out the students were her customers, I should have broken up with her. But I was in love and I wanted to keep her safe. I didn't leave. I got deep enough that I met some of her bosses and knew about some of their operations, but she cheated on me and it broke the spell. I finally left her, but one of their ops went bad and one of the guys they picked up gave my name to San Myshuno PD."

"Conrad, you don't have a criminal record. I looked you up after we started dating."

"You hacked the police database, too?"

"No...I did a public records search after River made a joke about a hacker and a criminal."

"To this day, I don't know how my father did it. My file's locked under clearance even I don't have, same as anyone else on the force with a past, but Landgraab Security's always had contacts at San Myshuno PD. He pulled enough strings to wipe my record clean and transfer me into the academy. I had to give them a couple names in exchange - street dealers, local guys. No one that would really upset the cartel. But the force had to look like they were managing crime in their city, and that's the only reason I became a cop and not a complete screw up."

"Is the cartel after you? Or just your ex? Did you give them her name?"

"I never gave them her name. I couldn't, because I didn't know what would happen to her little brother if I did. She tried to get me back after I left, but I knew it could never work out. When Gord was still a puppy, she cornered us outside my apartment to get my attention when I brought home another girl. I got a restraining order, but when it expired and she stayed away, I thought she was finally gone for good."

"So why is she back?"

"She asked for my help to find her brother."

"Is her brother even missing?"

"He is missing. He's wanted by San Myshuno PD. I wanted to help him before he was arrested and sent to prison."

"But you were looking for him under the table, as a favour to your ex who sounds obsessed with you? No wonder Gord hasn't left us alone since Lavender was born. He always knew what was going on with you, didn't he? And you never thought to mention any of this to me?"

"Heather, I wanted to, I-"

"Were you going to help this guy avoid prison? How? Criminal connections?"

"Nothing like that. I was hoping to be able to talk to him, encourage him to go back to finish high school, find a solid job, and maybe convince a judge to go easier on him. I really thought I'd be able to find him in a few weeks, maybe a couple months, and we could all move on again. But uncovering leads has been impossible, and his sister's not a reliable source. I'd even started a file on Ximena because I thought once I found her brother I could finally get around to what I should have done more than once and turned her in. But I could see what searching for Rafa and keeping it from everyone was doing to me, so I finally told her yesterday I was done."

"You've been in regular contact with your ex and didn't tell me? And not because there's something between you but because she's dangerous? Conrad, that's worse."

He nodded. "I know it is. I know how not saying anything makes it look, but I'm so ashamed of that chapter of my life. My bad decisions killed my father. After he got me into the academy, his heart got weak. Two heart attacks, and he died within months. As long as I live, I'll know the stress I put him under was the cause."

She was quiet, nervously playing with her food. Neither was hungry anymore. "You should have told me this."

"I'm so sorry. The longer I kept it from you, the more I feared telling you too late to deserve understanding. I love you so much, and I never wanted to do anything to lose you."

They were interrupted when Conrad's phone started beeping. This time, it was work, but he read the dispatch and his stomach dropped.

The phone shook in his trembling hand and Heather stood. "Conrad, what is it?"

"There's a dead body at the pier. I've got to go back to work." A bone-chilling shiver ran down his spine. His heartbeat quickened, as though he knew what he'd find when he reached Fisherman's Wharf. "I'm so sorry, Heather. I want to keep talking about this, but I can't."

She nodded. "I understand."

A pit formed in his stomach. "Will you do me a favour? I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but will you leave for your parents' place in Henford tonight? Don't wait until morning. I'll probably be working all night and I'd rather know you're safe outside of town."

She uncrossed her arms in shock. "Do you think your ex is involved with the body at the pier? Is that why you want us to leave? Lavender's sound asleep already, but you want me to wake her and take her an hour on the Simmerloop when you invested in those security cameras?"

"Heather, please," he begged, reaching for her hand across the table. "If she's anywhere near Brindleton Bay right now, I can't focus on work if I'm worried about the two of you."

Heather looked at him with sad eyes as their fingers brushed against the wood-top table. Betrayal was written all over her face, but she nodded toward the uneaten food and pulled her hand away. "I'll pack this up in the fridge and then I'll take her. Do you think you'll make it to Henford at all this weekend?"

"Heather, I don't know. I hope so. But I can pack this up before I go. Thank you for cooking. I'm sorry we couldn't enjoy it."

"Me too," she snipped. "Good luck. Be careful."

Heather couldn't look at him and Conrad wouldn't press her. As much as he wanted to run after her and beg forgiveness, a deadly crime scene called him to the pier. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Heather doing a semi-romantic dinner setup wasn't a flirty gesture, but she has the caregiver personality type. I can't remember if this is from a mod or an EA feature, to tell you the truth. I think it's a mod. Conrad has the jester personality type, which I think suits him, too. Conrad is really responsible and respectful which suit his proper trait (which was learned after younger mistakes), but jesters trend toward mischief/"foolish games" in addition to being jokesters. EDIT: It's WonderfulWhims/WickedWhims that adds this!!

WCIF Poses Used? Dinner Table Talks by @herecirmsims. I don't even mind the clipping because their kitchen table and chairs didn't quite fit the dimensions, because the poses gave me the expressions I wanted. I tried way too long to try to get the teleporters in the middle of the chairs, but I got close enough for me. Just ignore the fact that their chests were in their stir-fry for 90 per cent of that convo! Thank you so much for creating and sharing! 🙏

[vitevii]

Stobotnik Role Swap AU Part 2

Here’s some more stuff about my Stobot Swap AU! Featuring: A potential excerpt from the fic I plan to write, more thoughts about Stone and Robotnik’s relationship prior to Sonic’s arrival, and another idea for a potential fic scene!

[AU: Stone and Robotnik are still an agent and a brilliant scientist respectively, but the hierarchy of their relationship is flipped with Stone being the ‘boss’ and Robotnik as the ‘henchman’.]

If you want to see the first post I made on this, it’s here: link (and it's also my current pinned post)

-

From the day he met Ivo, Stone was fascinated by the doctor... especially during the 2 minute rant the doctor blasted at him from point-blank (literally and figuratively). From the first day he saw Ivo at work, gliding and spinning between workstations like a dancer, Stone was enthralled by the doctor. From the first day he saw Ivo- glistening with sweat and grinning maniacally- complete one of his incredible inventions, Stone was captivated by the doctor. All of those days occurred in the same week. Stone had fallen very rapidly head-over-heels for the doctor, though he would not have used such terminology at the time, and he wouldn’t admit the fact to himself yet.

Regardless of the terms and conditions, Agent Stone had decided.

He would have the doctor for himself.

-

When Dr. Robotnik is first promoted to serve directly under Agent Stone, he tries to dial back his retorts and tirades against more ‘simpleminded’ agents as he fears that Stone may send him back to the lower levels of shadow ops or that he may get Stone into trouble in such a way that they’re both demoted. But after a while under Stone’s command, Robotnik gets a taste of Stone’s power, and he begins testing the waters on just how far Stone and Stone’s reputation can protect him. He drops formalities/titles for other agents and only addresses Stone properly (Mr. Stone/Sir/Agent Stone). He addresses anyone of lower rank with weird little nicknames and insults, and they can’t do anything about it. Ivo is very smug about this. He gets more and more accustomed to his new freedom and to being himself- as long as Stone is around.

He starts making sure he’s always around Stone.

Military personnel who’ve had the misfortune honor of working with the Agent+Scientist duo start referring to Robotnik as ‘Stone’s lap dog’ and ‘Stone’s lab rat’ when Robotnik and Stone aren’t around.

Random agent to Robotnik after being insulted: you disrespectful little freak I swear I’m gonna tear you ap-… ah..Agent Stone, Sir!

Stone, walking into the room with death in his eyes: Ah, Agent C, so sorry to interrupt. Did you have something important to say to Dr. Robotnik?

Random agent: Uh n-no it’s nothing important, Sir.

Stone: Well then if you’re done wasting the good doctor’s time, he and I will be on our way.

Stone turns to exit the room again, Robotnik starts walking backwards, grinning and then flipping off Agent C (who is fuming again)

-

The first time Dr. Robotnik lashes out physically against Agent Stone, Ivo freezes up, his fist still clenched around Stone’s tie, realizing that he could very easily lose his position at Stone’s side for this.

Stone is staring at him, seemingly unbothered, with eyebrows raised, clearly intrigued but not revealing much else. Ivo lets go and backs up. “Sorry, Sir,” He manages to mutter through gritted teeth. It’s been a long time since he’s apologized to anyone for anything. “That won’t happen again.”

-

[Scene below would take place after they’ve known each other for a while. Stone is fully in love with Robotnik but hasn’t confessed, Robotnik still thinks that Stone only keeps him around for his inventions and expertise.]

When Stone gets seriously injured, Robotnik puts him under general anesthesia and puts him in restraints before operating because Stone has a habit of reflexively lashing out when dazed. When Stone comes to after the surgery, the first thing his hazy vision lands on is Ivo's face, very close to his, and then he registers that his wrists are strapped down. His eyelids flutter.

Stone murmurs dreamily “Oh, doctor.. what do you have planned for me?”. And then he fades away into unconsciousness again.

Robotnik blushes deeply and feels things he doesn’t understand. He never mentions this to anyone. The next few days, he’s strangely quiet, his brow furrowed, focused only on monitoring the agent’s vitals and recovery. Stone, when he’s regained his senses properly, is concerned about the change in demeanor and asks, “Doctor.. is something bothering you? Did I hurt you when I…?”

Ivo scoffs. “Do you take me for a blithering idiot? I know to take the proper precautions. Shut up and let me focus.”

Stone nods and rests his head back down, smiling. “Of course, Doctor. I trust you.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling a friend about a job I know for certain is terrible?

I have a degree in a creative field of work. Years ago I applied for a job in a city out of state, for a small business. I lowballed on the expected salary because I was desperate to get the job and get established before I moved. I figured once I got my apartment squared away I could look for a better, higher paying job.

Well, I got the job, and it turns out I actually really enjoyed working there. It was a pleasant work environment, I had cool coworkers, the boss was understanding and generous. So I stayed despite the low pay. I did get yearly raises, but even with those I was still below the average salary for my position.

That all changed earlier this year, when the old boss decided to sell the business due to health reasons. The new bosses made their fortune in a completely different industry, and knew nothing about our industry. They are in way over their heads.

They don’t fill out orders correctly. They take on orders that are physically impossible and expect us to do them anyway. They buy expensive new machines, don’t train us on them, and immediately start taking huge orders for them when we haven’t ironed on the kinks. We can’t focus on any complex orders because they’re constantly making us switch gears to personal projects, or forgotten orders, or different huge rush orders. The wife has a habit of rearranging our spaces and messing them all up, sometimes when we’re still in them trying to finish projects. They switched to a new shop management system that is counterintuitive and has too many moving parts and as a result mistakes have been piling up. Did I mention I was the only person in my particular department? Because I am.

It got to the point where I was having breakdowns every day. I have reached the point of total burnout. I finally decided enough was enough and turned in my two weeks’ notice plus however long it takes to train someone new.

Well, my “two weeks plus whatever it takes to train the newbie” has turned into six weeks and counting. They didn’t realize how cheap a date I was. They’ve interviewed people, but they’re all asking for twice the salary they’re offering. Which, good for them, get that scratch, but it means I’m languishing here, still suffering.

Now here is where I feel I MBTA. I have a Facebook friend, an acquaintance I met on another creative project, asking around for any local jobs in (creative field). He also lost his job recently, so he’s pretty hard up. I told him about the position opening up. I did not give him any details why I was leaving, or the pay, or the clusterfuck environment.

I feel like I’m leading him into a trap. But I’m so desperate to leave. I don’t want to leave without a replacement in place, because I like all my coworkers and without that one department the whole business will go belly up and they’ll all be out a job.

Am I leading him into a trap? AITA?

[scoonsalicious]

7.4 Bucky*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (hand stuff(f receiving))

Word Count: 1.3k

Previously On...: You got it on. In the woods.

A/N: Ugh, my beautiful long weekend is over. No more days off from work until Junteenth.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

“I’m gonna end up falling in love with you,” she had said to him, and Bucky could barely believe his ears. He made love to her again, under the stars, assuring her with every thrust, every kiss, every caress, that he felt the same. 

After he’d taken her apart once more, he’d grabbed his discarded shirt and dipped it into the stream. Wringing out the excess water, he brought the wet cloth back and used it to gently clean her folds. He’d made such a mess of her, but the sight of his seed oozing from her core was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. It was all he could do to keep himself from bending down and using his fingers to push it all back inside of her, where it belonged, where he wanted it to always belong, from now on. 

But there would be time for that, later. 

For now, he helped her dress, and using the combined lights of the flashlights on their phones, they managed to collect the rest of the picnic gear and made their way out of the clearing, hand in hand, and back to the parking lot, Major leaning against his arm and occasionally letting out a contented sigh that filled Bucky’s heart.

When they reached their cars, Bucky was surprised to see Major had arrived in a pickup truck. “Not sure what kind of car I was expecting for you, sugar,” he said with a laugh, “but a pickup wasn’t it.”

With a smile, Major lovingly patted the truck’s hood. “Yeah, wasn’t my first choice, honestly, but when I  started my business, I needed something that could transport shit to The WarZone from our suppliers. It’s grown on me, though. Speaking of,” she added, her face falling a little, “I should probably head home; it’s already nine o’clock, and I have to work tomorrow.”

Bucky felt his heart sink. The last thing he wanted to do was say goodnight to her. “Spend the night at the Compound with me,” he offered again, bringing his hands to her waist. “It’s closer than your place, and I don’t want to say goodbye to you just yet.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and offered his most pleading puppy dog look. “I can bring you back to your truck in the morning.”

Major sighed in feigned reluctance. “I suppose I could be a little late tomorrow,” she admitted. “I think my boss will understand. I happen to know for a fact that she’s quite fond of your dick, so she might make an exception if I tell her I was out late riding it all night.”

Bucky laughed and pulled her to his chest. God, he loved the feeling of her as she wrapped her arms around him, the way she seemed to fit perfectly into the dips and curves of his body. 

“To hell with it,” he heard her mumble into his chest. “I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow.” 

Bucky pulled back and looked down at her, trying hard to stifle the grin that was threatening to spread across his face. “Are you sure, sugar?” he asked her. “I don’t want you putting your business in any kind of jeopardy because I’m trying to be a bad influence.”

Major shook her head and smiled at him. “Honestly, things over there run so smoothly now, I don’t need to be as involved as I am. I just like keeping an eye on things because, well, the business is my baby, you know?” Bucky nodded, he did understand; she’d devoted so much of her life to making it a success. “So, I can afford to take a day off here and there to spend time with you,” she said. 

Bucky grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. “Since you’re playing hooky and don’t need to worry about being home early,” he said, “how ‘bout we finally eat dinner? You’ve got to be starving.”

Major let out a low groan. “God, yes, please. Don’t get me wrong, I fully enjoyed our alternative activities, but damn, boy– you had me working up an appetite.”

“Gimme one minute,” Bucky said. He hauled the picnic basket into the back of Major’s truck and spread the blankets along the bed. He grasped Major by the hips and gently lifted her over the tailgate before hopping in, himself. He propped up some pillows against the back of the cab, and sat down against them, spreading his legs and motioning for Major to sit between them, with her back to his bare chest. He then rummaged through the basket and retrieved their forgotten sub sandwiches and lemonades. 

While they ate, Bucky pointed out constellations to Major, telling her the stories behind the figures in the night sky. He loved how much more could be seen out here than back in the city. He’d always loved space, and Major listened to him with rapt attention, asking thoughtful and poignant questions, letting him know that she was both paying close attention to everything he said, and that she admired his interest. 

“You’d make an excellent astronomer,” Major commented, after Bucky had pointed out the tiny dot that was Neptune, far off in the unfathomable distance.

“When I was a kid, that’s what I wanted to be when I grew up,” he confessed with a nostalgic smile. He’d never told anyone that before– not even Stevie. When you were a kid from Brooklyn, growing up during what would become known as The Great Depression, the idea of making a career out of looking at stars seemed so fanciful as to be almost insulting. Bucky had known there was no future in the cosmos for him, only a life of hard, manual labor, doing what he needed to do to put food on the table for his family.

Only, that never even came to fruition, either. One measly letter from Uncle Sam had ripped away all his dreams, and his reality.

“Well, it’s never too late for a career change,” Major said, her tone only half teasing. “I mean, you’re only in your early hundreds. You’ve got time.”

And now, here was Major, simultaneously both reality and dream, and when she said he could be an astronomer, she had Bucky believing it.

Once their food was finished, though, Bucky couldn’t resist sliding a hand down the waistband of Major’s jean shorts, seeking out the warmth and wetness of her folds.

“Bucky!” Major sucked in a breath as she arched her back into his chest. “Fuck!” He slid two of his flesh fingers inside of her, working them in and out at a leisurely pace with one hand, while his vibranium hand pointed out the stars of one of the smallest constellations, Delphinius.

“That’s the Dolphin,” Bucky told her as she grasped onto his forearm to support herself. “The stars aren’t very bright, but the myth is that Poseidon– doll, how can you pay attention if you keep squirming like that?” He knew she couldn’t see him, so he had no need to hide the mischievous smirk that covered his face.

“Bucky,” Major whined, and god, how Bucky loved the sound of it. He brought his lips to the crux of her neck and shoulder.

“I’m trying to teach you about the stars, doll, and your mind’s completely elsewhere,” he teased. He brought his vibranium arm down to join his flesh hand, and used it to work her clit, until Major was a crying, shaking mess in his arms.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” he assured her as she came down from her high. He made sure to hold her close to him, loving how her whole body shook with the aftershocks of her pleasure. Pleasure that he had coaxed from her. 

“You are a bad boy, Bucky Barnes,” Major said with a laugh once she’d found her voice again. “And you definitely do not play fair.”

“If you think I’m bad now,” he offered with a grin as he kissed the top of her head, “just wait until you see how bad I’m going to be when I get you back to the Compound.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->