#more than anything it just reminded me…of everything i fucking hate about detective novels and why I don’t read them…

[grassoftunnel]

My The Honjin Murders review

I was enjoying it…until…I wasn’t 💀

[biffhofosho]

Succumbing to Sybaris | Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Word Count: 5.5k

Cvr | Tr | Pr | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | Ep

At the brush of fingers through her hair, Amber's eyes creaked open resentfully to find Wonho’s dazzling smile waiting for her. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep, but now that she was awake, she realized it was the first peaceful sleep she'd had in months. Seemed like an impossible thing, waking up to the face of a vampire and feeling safe, but that was exactly what had happened.

“Hoseok?”

The bright-eyed boy beamed down at her, feathering loose strands of hair back from her face. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

Amber stretched under the blanket, wincing at the ache lurking in almost every corner of her body. That’s what she got for fucking a man made of stone. Her waist was especially sore, no doubt from the repercussions of denying Wonho what he had needed, and she imagined there were ten little pretty bruises along her abused flesh.

“Tired. You?”

“Alive,” Wonho said without a hint of irony.

She swung her legs over the edge of the futon and glanced down at her naked body. “Did you clean me up?”

“Best I could,” he said with a nod to his ripped shirt balled up on his desk. “Hope you don’t mind. I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable while you slept. You looked too much like an angel to be so sinful.”

Amber smiled and wrangled her locks back into a ponytail that hid her sex-hair. “What time is it?”

“Just past three. Hate to say it, gorgeous, but my shift's over.”

At that, Amber shot up and dove for her clothes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck, this is bad. This is so bad.”

“Nothing about that was bad,” he hummed dreamily as he tugged on a fresh t-shirt.

“Everyone knows what we did in here, Hoseok!”

“Mm, probably the whole building judging by how loud you screamed that last round.”

The detective gaped at him. “Are you serious? Fuck, I’m done. I’m so done. I thought at least I’d have till the end of this case, but my career is over. Fuck.”

Wonho folded up the futon just as carefree as he did everything else and watched her with an amused grin. “Come on, Detective Spiros. You think any of us would allow that to happen? I’ll just erase everyone’s memories here, and everything will be fine.”

“Like that’s so easy.”

“It is,” he said evenly.

Her pants sagged mid-leg as Amber studied him. “What about other people like me?”

“There’s no one else like you,” Wonho added just as evenly. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you safe.”

“Keep the detective safe who’s been hunting your brother? Yeah, sure.”

“You’ll see soon enough, Hyungwon hasn’t done anything to those women.”

Wonho said it with so much unswerving conviction that another crack widened the growing rift between Amber’s heart and her mind. She was used to her two poles always being in sync—it was how she knew she was doing the right thing—but since she’d met Hyungwon, nothing lined up anymore, and with a shiver, she realized she couldn’t trust either one.

Still, there was that last needle under her skin, the one that reminded her that no matter how much she wanted to believe they had nothing to do with Daisy and the other missing, they were still a part of it. It wasn’t a coincidence that her investigation had led her to a clan of vampires. It meant something, now more than ever considering what had happened to Evelyn Hoover.

Her heart accelerating, Amber finished dressing in record speed and was already out the door with a flippant “I gotta go.” But Wonho was a vampire after all, and he kept pace easily alongside her, even offering his hand to hold, which required every fiber of her being to ignore.

They passed the front desk, but Dami was thankfully gone, replaced instead with another blank-eyed girl who moaned convincingly on autopilot into a receiver all while she turned a page in her fantasy novel.

The moment they entered the lobby, Wonho grabbed Amber’s wrist and pinned her against the wall between both mountainous arms. To her surprise, he kissed her passionately there in the open until her senses returned and her hand shot to his throat. She dug her fingers into the firm muscles under his jaw and pushed him back, but instead of disappointment or even annoyance, she found two huge puppy eyes.

“What are you doing?” the detective hissed, glancing back toward the woman at the desk.

“I’m going to miss you,” Wonho said, the grip on his neck nothing more than an inconvenience for someone who didn’t breathe anymore. “I’m going to miss your smell. Fuck, gotta take some more of it with me. Your panties won’t be enough.”

Despite her hand pressing harder into his throat, he flattened himself against her and rolled the length of his body along hers. He nuzzled into her neck and purred as he kissed her collarbone.

“Need you all over me, baby,” he murmured as his hands knotted in the back of her shirt and smothered the rest of her compact frame with his heavy muscle. He felt so good, swallowing her body up again, and her hand dropped from his neck to his waist.

Amber’s eyes fluttered shut before she remembered herself. She shoved him back again and stood up as tall as she could. It would have been nothing for a strongman like Wonho to swat her away, but he let her win, though he unleashed a heavy sigh.

“Stop it, Lee,” she growled, knowing that the formality would hurt him but needing the distance to protect herself. “Go home. The sun’s coming up soon.”

He pouted but held the door for her as they walked into the night.

As she burst into the parking lot, Amber instantly felt that cold ripple of being watched again. She stopped and glanced around, and Wonho slowed beside her. He didn’t seem to notice anything, so the detective relaxed; after all, a vampire’s senses must be keener than hers. She was just paranoid after his public display in the lobby.

At her car, Wonho opened her door for her and smiled at her through the frame. With a gentle head tilt, he said, “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Detective, I promise. Get home safe, okay? Come see me again soon.”

He double-tapped her roof, and Amber slammed the door, thankful for the space. With Wonho, it was too easy to fall for his boyfriend-schtick, and Amber needed the perspective of miles between them.

She came home to two messages on her machine, one from Eric needling for details about her dinner with Agent Suh and another just a long reel of silence before a hang-up—probably just her best friend annoyed she wasn’t calling him back. She’d have to think of a good story to tell him considering the alternative was admitting to career-ending off-duty booty, but she was far too tired to deal with it now.

Getting restful sleep for the first time in ages had only fueled Amber’s need for more, and she tumbled face-first into her covers. She was out within moments, oblivious to the world.

She dreamed of Delphine.

Her face looked much like the one Amber saw in the mirror everyday though the eyes that stared back were matching shades of denim blue. Delphine’s chocolate hair tumbled over her shoulders and feathered in a breeze Amber couldn’t feel. Her sister was wearing the same red dress she’d disappeared in, big red ruffles on the sleeves and at her knees and a cherry rosette at the chest that accented the red gash at her neck. She was speaking, but only wet gurgles left her throat.

Her face was still, almost robotic as she spilled secrets Amber could never hear. Delphine rose one ethereal hand with the same haunting grace as she would have if she were underwater. All at once, her lips stopped moving as the breeze fell dead, and she pointed over Amber’s shoulder.

The detective turned around and realized that they were deep in the woods, night above them, around them, and beneath them. The walls of a gorge rose behind her, familiar and foreign all at once. There, far away at the top of the cliff, was a thin shadow with long limbs and sleek lines. Amber knew she’d seen it before, but she couldn’t place where no matter how hard she tried.

She looked frantically back to her sister, but Delphine couldn’t wrench her eyes from the shadow. When Amber glanced back, it was gone, but Delphine seemed to see something that her sister couldn’t, and her gazed remained fixed on the memory of the ghost.

Amber had to get them out of here. As long as that shadow was out there, they weren’t safe—she knew that.

The detective spun in a circle, but while they were on a table of rock with infinite exits all around them, deep in her bones, she felt that none of them would lead them out. They were at the bottom of a canyon, with a trail that led into darkness at either end, and Amber knew that no matter which one they chose, the shadow would be there waiting.

Instead, she turned to the only sanctuary the sisters had, a decaying stone building at the crest of the trailhead. It was covered in moss and ferns, as though it were built by Mother Nature herself. It had no roof and no windows, just empty sockets and a gaping maw where a door had once been. This place was familiar too, but again, she didn’t know why.

Amber grabbed her sister’s hand and tugged her toward the shelter, but Delphine was both light as air and heavy as rock. Amber managed to get her behind a wall, but Delphine would neither bend nor hush. She was gurgling again, her lips moving more insistently around words she couldn’t vocalize. Her blue eyes were as wide as the Pacific and just as turbulent as she worked desperately to get Amber’s attention.

“What? What is it, Della? Talk to me, please!” Amber demanded as she grabbed her sister by the shoulders. Her nails sunk into the taffeta ruffles and crunched as much from the fabric as the now-crumbling bone underneath.

In one last ditch effort, Delphine opened her mouth, but instead of an answer, out came a blood-curdling scream and a belch of smoke blacker than the darkness around them.

This time when Amber turned around, another shadow was there, and it grabbed her by the ankles. Amber tumbled to the stone floor and grabbed for any handhold, but the stones were slick with lichen, and her nails found no purchase. She thudded face-first down a flight of steps into the earth, where she was whisked up the trail faster than the wind. Behind her, Delphine watched from a window, her mouth as open and useless as the empty frame.

The air was thicker here, and Amber choked as she struggled to stop her momentum. She glared at the shadow behind her, but this shadow had a face—a sweet, round one Amber recognized instantly.

“Daisy, stop! Where are you taking me?” shouted the detective, but the girl didn’t answer. She was strong and determined to lead Amber to the tall, thin figure at the end of the canyon.

They were almost there. The air was suffocating, and Amber was dizzy. The closer they got to the shadow man, the more strength left the detective’s limbs. Delphine was just a pinpoint in Amber’s past, the only spot of color in the darkness behind her. Amber reached toward her sister, but it was pointless. All of this was pointless—the fighting, the pleading, even breathing. She was going to succumb—it was just a matter of when.

At last, Daisy slowed as they approached the top of the canyon wall, and a new set of fingers curled around Amber now. She was lifted into powerful arms, and with the last of her vision, she looked toward the face that would consume her, but it was enrobed in black smoke, same as his voice.

It was melodic and beautiful and utterly terrifying as it sang her name.

“Ambrosia…”

The edges of the dream were fuzzy now, but still, she couldn’t see anything except smoke. The shadow’s voice had shifted, morphing into two.

“He didn’t trust me, so he sent you?” complained one voice. Something about the indignance in its tone was familiar.

“You know he doesn’t take risks when it comes to her,” said the other, also familiar but far less resentful.

“Neither do I,” retorted the first. “I’ve got this. Go take care of the cleanup.”

There was weightlessness through the smoke, and Amber’s lungs cinched in revolt. She sputtered and sat up, hand clutching her throat, only to find she wasn’t in her room.

“Ambrosia, can you hear me?”

Her eyes bulged as she kicked and flailed, and the hands that cradled her under her shoulders and knees released her. She flopped back into wet grass and crawled on her belly away from her attacker, her face gathering dewdrops as she coughed.

She was tired and sore and her lungs burned. Actually, everything was burning, her skin, her throat, her eyes. Through bleary lenses, the world came back into focus. Things were no longer black but red. Everything was red and seething.

Amber rolled onto her butt and scrambled into a ball like an armadillo as her nails dug into her legs. From the shelter of her knees, she looked around and found she wasn’t in the woods at all. She was in her very crowded front lawn with thirty other people she didn’t recognize and one she did.

“Luke!” Amber shouted as she launched herself into his arms.

He held her fiercely, pressing his cheek into her crown. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why do you always forget your radio, damnit?”

He stroked her cheek and searched her face for any signs of damage but found only shock.

“What’s going on?”

“Your apartment building’s on fire. They got you out just in time,” he answered as he looked from the burning cube behind him to her “attacker,” who was just a hapless paramedic with high eyebrows and a big blanket that he handed to Lucas.

The captain wrapped it around her shoulders, and things suddenly came into focus. At last, Amber could make out the chaos that engulfed them. Firefighters stormed through the front door searching for other residents, water cascaded over brick, and ebony smoke billowed into the already black sky.

Things were still blurry, as much from the overlapping vividness of her dream as the smoke still in her eyes.

“How’d you get here so fast?” Amber wondered as she let her tears clear her eyes.

“I recognized your address over Dispatch. You know my place is only two streets over.”

She should have known. Lucas’s place had once been her place, too.

“Eric’s on his way, too. They’re going to take you to the hospital to check you out,” the captain continued, nodding toward the ambulance, but Amber shook her head violently.

“Forget it. I’m fine. No burns, no cuts, no bruises.”

“Amber—”

“I’m not going.”

The captain sighed. “Fine, but you are to let them check you out, and that’s an order. That suspension’s still on the table, you know.”

Lucas was so elegant in the firelight; every angle was sharpened while his voice was softened, and his eyes glowed as they studied hers.

“What happened?” Amber asked, and she realized how raw her throat was. Luckily, the paramedic waited at the ready with a cup of water.

As she drank, the captain answered, “Way too early to tell, but it looks like the fire started near your apartment.”

Amber nearly did a spit-take. “Near my place?”

“You know I don’t believe in coincidences,” Lucas said, his eyes shifting down the street.

“Neither do I.”

“I could assign a plain-clothes—”

“Lucas, no,” she snapped. “We need every boot to the pavement looking for these women.”

“What did I tell you about your invisible bulletproof vest, huh? You don’t have one, Amber, and the shots are getting closer,” he volleyed back, matching her annoyance.

She looked back toward her life now in smoldering rubble and felt the irony acutely.

Lucas followed her gaze back to the fire, and his temper burned away. He squeezed her hand in the wet grass and said softly, “I’m scared.”

Her head whipped to him at once. She had never, ever heard him use that word. “Of what?”

“Of losing you.”

She studied his profile etched in fire and forever branded in her heart, and she realized she was afraid of the same thing—maybe not the same way Lucas was, but she was afraid she was losing herself, too. Criminals, kidnappers, and killers, she could handle, maybe even vampires now, too, but it wasn’t death she feared. Losing Delphine had forged Amber anew in fire, and now she had emerged from flames again feeling a million miles from the woman she had been. Everything felt hopelessly out of control. Everything felt hopeless.

Lucas squeezed her hand again, and it jarred her from her self-loathing.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked.

For a split second, Amber thought of the manor lording over the Willamette and that tower room bathed in its own firelight, but she forced it away immediately. “Yeah, Eric will let me crash with him.”

Lucas nodded. “If you need anything…”

“I know. Thanks, Cap. For everything.”

He wrinkled his nose at the nickname and let her go to thumb toward the open ambulance beside them.  “Okay, Spiros, the time has come.”

It was her turn to wrinkle her nose, but Amber did as Lucas asked and let the paramedic look her over. She was just about done when a sturdy silhouette strolled through the bedlam of first responders. Shownu found her easily, his eyes wider than she’d ever seen.

“Are you all right?” he asked, surprising her.

Amber wasn’t sure why she was surprised—Shownu was always considerate of her—but maybe it was more because she was surprised at how glad she was to see him. At the sight of his now familiar handsome face, she smiled. “You came.”

“Of course,” he said with a rare smile of his own before it faltered at the sight of soot on her cheeks and hands.

“You got here faster than Nam, and he only lives a few blocks away,” she marveled.

“I was already out when I got the call. What happened?”

“Don’t know. I was asleep, and the next thing I knew, I was out here safe and sound. The fire’s under control now, but my place is most likely a total loss.”

He appraised her blank face and smooth skin and pursed his lips. “You’re handling it pretty well.”

“I think I’m just numb, maybe to everything at this point. I mean, how much more fucked up can my life get?” Amber said with a bitter laugh. “Better knock on wood.”

“You need a place to stay?” Shownu asked, surprising her again.

“You offering, Son?” she joked before she realized he was serious, and for some reason, that realization made her cheeks burn. “I’m all good, thanks though. And thanks for coming out. You didn’t need to.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re partners.”

Shownu was a man of few words, but somehow he always knew the ones Amber wanted to hear.

“Look, Son, I know I said—”

But he shook his head. “I’m glad you’re okay. Will I see you at the precinct tomorrow?”

Amber smirked. “Probably today.”

“Spiros—”

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, do I?” Her voice wasn’t nearly as bitter as she expected it to be, and suddenly, she understood why. She studied her partner, his eyes as tense as his mouth, and for the first time, he felt like someone she could truly trust. “And anyway, maybe starting fresh is just what I need—just what we all need. Time to let go.”

It could have been the dwindling flames, but she thought she caught the glint of something a lot like hope in his eyes. With a nod, he said, “See you then.”

Shownu joined the captain at the edge of the first responder melee, and Amber headed to her car, hoping to grab a few things and maybe even a few clothes at the 24-hour grocery while the world was still quiet. Of course, her block was alive with activity now, every nearby house and apartment alight, every window blotted by nosy shadows, but beyond that, Portland was still sleepy in the early morning hours. Past the trees and hills, the sky tinged the faintest hint of lavender and silver with the first kiss of sunrise.

Mercifully, Amber’s car waited in the parking lot safe and sound, though it was dusted with ash and hose water and reeked of acrid smoke. She ran the wipers a few times before slipping out the back way, windows down and fresh air flushing out the late-night horrors.

The mindlessness of driving took over immediately, and Delphine appeared—ice blue eyes and blood red throat—in the passenger seat, a ghostly palimpsest that countered her sister’s plans for a fresh start. Grisly as it was, it comforted Amber. It had been so long since she’d dreamed of her sister that Amber had worried she was forgetting her. If she ignored the gaping hole in Delphine’s throat, it felt like high school again, like one of their midnight jailbreaks where they tore up Sunset Highway looking for trouble.

Just like in the dream, Delphine was mouthing words, and sure enough, before they’d even reached the end of the block, she raised her arm and pointed straight ahead.

A thin shadow charged toward them in the road, and Amber slammed on the brakes, but it wasn’t fast enough. She was going to hit it.

“Jesus!” she squealed as she jerked the wheel, but the car had already stalled beneath the powerful hands now splayed across her hood. The figure straightened unharmed as the headlights blared across the graceful angles of Chae Hyungwon’s face.

His hair was mussed and his chest heaved as though his lungs had forgotten they’d been long atrophied by death. He peered at the detective through the windshield with wild eyes.

“What are you doing out?” he demanded in a hiss.

“How did you—” Amber stammered. “Did you run here?”

“Go back right now,” he growled, his long nails scratching the hood.

She ignored him and instead revved her engine, but Hyungwon had pinned it in place. Confused and frustrated, Amber looked to Delphine for help, but her twin had vanished, leaving her alone with the vampire. “Why are you here, Chae?”

“My brothers told me what happened.”

“How do they know? Are you stalking me?”

“Hoseok called me. He sensed you were being watched when you left him.”

Amber’s stomach plummeted. Someone was surveilling her. For blackmail? For revenge? For fun?

“Human or vampire?” she probed.

“We don’t have time for that now. Tell me, Detective, have you been dreaming?”

Now, it was her heart sinking. Since the day she’d met Hyungwon and his brothers, they had taken turns coming to her in her sleep. They never spoke and rarely moved, but they were there, always tempting, always watching. Sometimes she would perform for them, lewd acts of exhibitionism that often saw her waking to crescendoing orgasms. Other times she would go to them, sit on their laps or embrace them, and kiss them until she woke up with drenched lingerie and an ache in her chest.

Amber expected him to be smug, but Hyungwon whipped his head violently. “Not the ones about us.”

Her hands slackened on the wheel. “How did—”

“Anything else? Tell me.”

“My sister,” she admitted, voice as hollow as the barrel of a gun. “And someone else.”

“Who!” he shouted, and her car shook.

“I don’t know.”

Hyungwon forked a hand through his long hair and asked, “Your sister, did she have eyes like yours?”

“What difference does it make?”

“Did she?” he said more firmly, and Amber blanched.

“No, okay? Jesus. Both of hers were blue. She didn’t have the split.”

In less than a heartbeat, he reached in through the window and turned off the ignition. Amber flailed and spluttered, but her keys were now in the hands of the vampire. Hyungwon’s lips were set in a tight line as he opened her door and waited for her to join him. “From now on, you’ll stay with us.”

She barked a laugh into the gray dawn. “Are you kidding me? I'm not staying in your den of snakes.”

“You'll be safer there than anywhere else,” he insisted.

“I can take care of myself.”

“And I'm sure that would be true if you knew what you were fighting, but you don't. That little piece of metal and gunpowder you love so much will have no impact on someone like us.”

“You do know something!” she said as she shot out of the car, finger pointing at his slender chest. “Tell me right now, Chae. Who is it? One of your brothers? Kihyun? Hyunwoo? Or is it Choi Seunghyun? What happened to those women?”

Hyungwon looked over his shoulder toward the chrome cap of Mt. Hood peeking just above the trees and growled. “It’s not safe.”

“I'm not afraid.”

“You should be! I am!”

In the shelter of the pines, his words resonated. Amber thought of Lucas and all he’d admitted only an hour ago, but he’d had a reason to be worried—they had history. What did she and Hyungwon have but distrust and suspicion?

“Why would you be scared?” she asked quietly.

When Hyungwon didn’t answer, lead filled her heart. It weighed her down and crushed her spirit, and none of it made any sense. It was like she was waiting for something though she didn’t know what; all she knew was that she kept being disappointed when she didn’t get it.

“That’s it,” the detective said, shaking her head as she turned toward the driver’s seat. “I’m tired. I’m just so tired of this. I don’t want this anymore, none of it. No more games, Chae. Not with you, and not with your family. Keys.”

He was at her side in a second, his hands held up imploringly. “It’s not a game. Bad things will keep happening, and I can’t stop them unless you come with me.”

Amber narrowed her eyes. “Is that a threat?”

“You don’t understand,” Hyungwon persisted.

“Help me understand!”

The vampire shook his head, his eyes tight with worry. “Answers will only lead to more questions, and none of that matters right now.”

“The only things that matter are those missing women, and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve found them.”

“Damnit, Ambrosia!” he thundered as his hand came down so hard on the car roof, it dented. “They’re not important. You are!”

It felt almost like the thing she wanted to hear yet also never wanted to hear again. She thought of Delphine, long dead but forever alive in her heart, and a tear slipped down Amber’s cheek. “Only a blood-sucking vampire would say something so cold.”

“I can’t change what I am,” he said softly. His big, dark eyes swam in the acid wash of dawn, and for the first time, Hyungwon didn’t loom over her but looked small enough to shelter in her arms. “But I can use it to protect the things that matter.”

Everything stopped in the stranglehold of the murky fingers of smoke beneath the firs. In the distance, garages squealed open and a bus trundled down Burnside Street. Behind them, firefighters shouted indecipherable orders and an ambulance wailed toward the hospital. It would be so easy to pretend she hadn’t heard him, but then she risked hearing him repeat it.

“What do you want from me?” Amber whimpered as more tears studded her cheeks.

“Nothing,” he said, his hand outstretched, “and everything.”

She felt a stirring deep in her chest, like a dragon slowly waking. The tears slowed, but they didn’t stop as Hyungwon pressed closer, once again the striking creature she’d always known him to be.

“Just stay with us,” he said as he circled her, his fingers dragging around her exposed collar. “You can have your own room. You can sleep in as late as you want. Minhyuk will make you laugh. Kihyun will make you breakfast. I'll make love to you over and over again.”

Love…

It was a word she couldn’t picture ever leaving Hyungwon’s beautiful lips, but now that it had, it was all she could focus on. He meant sex, she knew that—that’s what it was, that’s all it had ever been with any of them—but the stain of those letters lingered like tattoo ink, and a moment later, he pressed them to her throat as a promise.

Amber hadn't realized she'd been leaning into him until one of his long fingers caressed her pulse right where he had kissed it.

“Stay.”

The word reverberated in her chest until all of her vibrated with it.

She turned in Hyungwon’s arms until she was face-to-face with him. He looked so hopeful, his mouth parted eagerly and his eyes wide and bright. She shifted her weight onto her tip toes and lurched forward, her lips a hair’s breadth from that luscious freckle bullseye on his.

“Amber…”

It came from behind her, from the same shadows where Hyungwon had emerged, as a croak or more like a wet belch, grotesque and terrifying and yet somehow familiar, something she had heard shades of in her last dream. The detective swiveled in the vampire’s arms and found a hunched silhouette stumbling down the road toward her with dark purpose. The sun hadn’t yet crested the top of the trees, but the light was strong enough to see the face of the rasping creature.

“Eric!” she screamed, the rest of the world long-forgotten around her.

Her best friend collapsed the moment he heard his name, and Amber flew to his side nearly as fast as Hyungwon had to her car.

“Eric, oh my god!” she cried, huddling him in her lap. “What happened?”

His face was barely recognizable beneath the smears of dirt and blood, and his eyes were blank, nothing like the sharp, teasing barbs they always were. His shirt was torn down one shoulder, and as his hand fell away from his neck, Amber understood why. Blood spurted from a gaping hole, baptizing her in horror she’d only thought she knew.

Her scream left her lungs with the ferocity of a fire siren. She screamed so loudly her teeth rattled and her ears rang. She screamed until front doors opened and people raced onto their lawns. And when she finally ran out of air, she did it all again.

Eric clawed loosely at Amber’s wrist, and she stopped just long enough to listen.

“He—”

“Shh,” she soothed as she pressed part of her shirt into the wound and wiped Eric’s brow with her hand. “The paramedics are right around the corner. They’ll be here in a second. Save your strength, you chucklehead.”

His voice faded with a last desperate call of her name though his mouth still moved, making the same pathetic gurgles that Delphine’s had in her dream. Amber bent down, her ear to Eric’s lips, to catch the softest whispers hiccupping out of his torn throat.

“He’s… a… vampire…”

Amber’s hand tightened around the staunch at Eric’s neck. “Who is? Who did this to you? Was it Hyungwon?”

Beneath her fear and her rage bubbled something bitterer than she had ever tasted, something cold and violent and all-consuming. It squashed her soul like a granite boulder—immovable and unavoidable.

Betrayal.

But Eric said nothing anymore. His eyes closed just before a brigade of firemen and paramedics descended on the pair of them and ripped them apart like atoms, and the reaction was just as cataclysmic.

Amber felt like a part of her soul had been strapped to the stretcher across from her, and she was being forced to let it go. Words filtered in and out, like a frayed audio cable that worked only when it wanted to.

“—in shock.”

“—lost a lot of blood—”

“—transfusion—”

“Now, now, now! Go!”

Another siren wailed as plaintively as Amber’s heart, and the moment it was gone, she felt hollow. Her eyes surveyed the bedlam reflexively, seeing everything but comprehending little. Lucas was back, as was Shownu, amidst a tidal surge of strangers—some in robes, some in suits, some old, some children, some helpful but all voyeurs, and all staring as blankly as she was. But amongst the churning sea, there was one face missing.

Chae Hyungwon.

[beelsnack]

Obey Me! Boys and an Insecure MC

Alternate Title: Coping mechanisms? In my demonic dating sim? It’s more likely than you think.

I honestly didn’t mean for this to be so long, but hey.

CW: Depression, self hatred, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Lucifer: It was subtle, but nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. He saw them fidgeting with their tie before heading to class, watched the frown tug at their lips when all they managed to produce was a rumpled tangle of silk. Caught them poking ruefully at their acne scars in the reflection of their D.D.D. Heard the frustrated sigh as they tried to sit in a way that hid the meat on their abdomen. But, above all, he paid close attention to those comments.

“Wow, I can’t do anything right, can I?”

“You would have to be a professional makeup artist to fix this mess, haha!”

“It’s alright, you can say I’m ugly.”

That was it. Lucifer stood from his seat at his desk, an errant paper fluttering to the ground in his wake. The Firstborn made his way over to where they were sitting, working away diligently on their laptop. Their breath caught in their throat when they turned to face him, and Lucifer fought back a sadistic grin when he felt them shudder at the feeling of his gloved hand sliding beneath their chin. He would file that away for later.

“That’s quite enough.” his voice was low as he lifted their face. They averted their eyes, clearly uncomfortable, but he kept his hand where it was. “Self-deprecation is unbecoming on anyone, but I certainly will not have it marring that beautiful face of yours.”

Nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. Especially not the shy smile they wore as they bade him goodnight.

Mammon: Call him an idiot all you like, but if there was one thing that a solid gambling career had taught Mammon, it was how to read a person’s tells. The way they stood with their arms folded and body turned inward said they were trying to hide. Their habit of avoiding mirrors told him they hated the way they looked. The twinge of resigned sadness on their face when they carefully deflected Asmo’s blatant flirting made it obvious that they thought they didn’t deserve it.

It must have been particularly bad one night. The two of them had made themselves comfortable on the bed in preparation for movie night, but instead of cuddling up next to him like they normally did, they sat far enough away that Mammon had to actually scoot forward to jab them in the shoulder.

“Hey, what gives, human? Why’re you all the way over there?”

“I’m just feeling a little warm.” they shrugged, pulling their knees to their chest. They were trying to pull some reverse psychology bullshit by purposefully staring him in the eye while they lied to him. Mammon snorted.

“You really think you’re going to fool me like that? You’ve got at least a millennia until you can even think of lying to The Great Mammon!” he opened his arms and his voice softened when he spoke. “Come here.”

They hesitated - eyes flicking back and forth between him and a knot in the branches that made up their bed frame, nervous - before they tucked themselves into his waiting arms.

He leaned his cheek against the top of their head, inhaling the sweet smell of their freshly-washed hair and internally purring (maybe externally, but you wouldn’t be able to get him to admit it) when he felt them snuggle in a little deeper and release a pent up sigh.

Mammon stayed silent, absently stroking the back of their neck. Words had probably done the damage, and they definitely weren’t going to fix it. He knew that from experience. But shielding his human from their own poisonous thoughts for a few moments was a good place to start.

Levi: Self-deprecating comments were one of Levi’s main forms of communication. It was a defense mechanism, a low-level shield someone would cast when the enemy was ridiculously OP but the game didn’t give you a retreat option. He knew this mechanic.

But when he heard them use it, it made him angry.

How could someone as amazing as them - smart, pretty, brave, loved gaming, made sure to feed Henry 2.0 when Levi was at a Sucre Frenzy concert - think they were anything less then perfect? No, more importantly, who hurt them so badly that they started thinking that way?

He felt like he did that one time Mammon had dropped one of his limited-edition Ruri-chan figures from a balcony. Someone damaged something precious to him, and he wanted blood.

Of course, that would involve talking about feelings and other mushy, normie stuff, and he just wasn’t ready for that. So, he did the only thing he could think of.

Leviachan: Hey, you down for a raid? There’s this new set of armor - it’s suuuuuuper rare, and you’re the only one good enough to get through the dungeon with me!! Pleeeeaaaassseee?

Satan: These little reading dates had started without him really noticing. One day, the human had came into the library seeking a quiet place to study and finish up their homework. Then, they came in with a human world book that Satan had never heard of tucked under their arm and were more than willing to talk about it. This lead to the two of them huddled on the sofa with their noses buried in the same book, and the human surprising Satan by being able to keep up with his reading speed. And here they were.

Satan had chosen a detective novel that he was positive they would like, and the both of them had taken advantage of a quiet Sunday morning to let themselves get absorbed into the story. Satan had his long arms wrapped around them holding the book, and they were leaning against his chest as they flipped the pages. An easy routine that the two of them had fallen into.

He felt them sigh heavily against him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I just...” they trailed off, gazing out the window at the dusty purple sky before snapping back to the present. “The love interest in this book is amazing. I’m a little jealous of them.”

“Jealous?” Satan echoed, looking down at the small frame curled up in his arms. “Why would you be jealous?”

“They were able to do so much with their life. They’re so young, yet they’ve got their life sorted out, they’re smart, beautiful, charismatic, and they’re confident in themselves despite all the shit people put them through...” they sighed again, and this time Satan heard the note of self-hatred on the exhale. “I can’t do anything like that.”

“Now where did you get that idea?” Satan said incredulously. “In the few months you’ve been here, you have excelled in every class you’ve taken, stood up against all of us in our true forms at least twice each, solved a murder, and convinced me to stop plotting to rip Lucifer’s throat out. All while adjusting to life in a world where most of the citizens could kill you by poking you a bit too hard. I would say that goes above and beyond ‘having your life sorted out.’“

The blush that bloomed across their face was so hot that Satan was able to feel it through his shirt, right next to his heart. He chuckled softly as he bent down to kiss their hair. 

“I could write for eons about how amazing you are and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Asmo: Emotions fell right into his area of expertise, and even if they were immune to his charm, Asmo still could smell their emotions like a perfume. And their low self-confidence reeked like rotten fruit. A beautiful arrangement that had been abandoned and left to decay.

The Avatar of Lust was an inquisitive soul (Lucifer would call it being nosy, but whatever.) He was also a firm believer in the theory that you can tell everything you need to know about a person by their skincare routine. So that’s what led to him sneaking into their bathroom while Mammon had dragged them out on one of his stupid get-rich-quick schemes.

“Oh, I don’t think so!” Asmo cried in alarm as he picked up the bottle of human world acne treatment. “They might as well be washing their face with snake venom!”

With a scoff, Asmo kicked the waste basket out from beneath their counter and tossed the face wash in. Bottle after bottle followed it, and Asmo was just about to dump the last bottle of what he assumed was straight rubbing alcohol when he heard the door open.

“Asmo, what the fuck.”

“Darling, we need to have a very serious discussion about your choice in skincare products.” Asmo grimaced as he glanced at the label on the bottle before unceremoniously dropping it into the bottle graveyard. “Can you even pronounce some of these?”

Ah, there it was. The sickeningly sweet smell of self-hatred. Asmo fought the urge to recoil as they practically dove for the trash can.

“Asmo, come on, I have gross skin as it is, don’t take away the only things keeping me from looking like a slice of pizza.”

The sound of glass breaking echoed somewhere in the back of Asmo’s head. That rotten smell was rolling off of them in waves, but he fought off his aversion and knelt down next to them.

They nearly hit the ceiling when Asmo clasped their hands between his own. “Now, now, none of that.”

“None of what?”

Asmo giggled. “You know I wouldn’t bother associating myself with someone unsightly.” one of his hands moved to gently cup their jaw. “You poor thing, you’ve been ruining that lovely face of yours.”

“I didn’t think I could make it any worse.” they muttered, looking away as Asmo stroked a thumb over their cheekbone.

Asmo’s heart clenched, and he leaned forward to kiss them gently on the forehead. “Oh, I can’t stand hearing that kind of talk, especially coming from you. That settles it, then.” he stood with an air of finality.

“Settles what?” they tilt their head in a manner that reminded Asmo of a very adorable puppy.

“We’re going to get you some proper skincare products, and I’m going to spend the rest of the night making you feel like the divine beauty you actually are.”

It was only for a second, but Asmo swore that overpowering smell of rotten fruit was replaced with something just a little fresher.

Beelzebub: Normally, the Avatar of Gluttony wouldn’t complain about someone not eating. More for him. But he didn’t like the way the human was pushing food around their plate without actually eating any of it. They usually loved fried bat wing, too.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, keeping his voice low so his brothers wouldn’t butt in. “Aren’t you hungry?”

They laughed sheepishly, pushing their plate towards him. “Nah, not really. I was snacking all day. Here, you can have it.”

“But I just heard your stomach growl.”

Shame flashed across their face before they looked up at him with a grin that didn’t quite make it to their eyes. “I guess, haha. Just trying to watch my figure, you know?”

Before Beel could swallow down the mouthful of bat wing - when did he even pick it up? They had stood from the table and excused themselves, saying something about having a lot of homework.

It was a few hours before they got back to their room. What had started as them doing their homework in the living room had turned into Mammon begging them to help him study, which then somehow turned to Mammon challenging Satan to a pillow fight. Finally, they had decided to give up and do their homework in their room.

Something delicious wafted out of their room when they opened the door. The source was an overly full plate of food - with extra bat wing, they noticed - sitting on their desk. Blinking in confusion, they shut the door behind them and approached the plate. When they got closer, the note tucked underneath the plate came into view.

Please eat properly. I don’t want you to starve.

-Beel

Belphegor: He never would have called himself needy or touch-starved before. But after spending so long stuck in that attic room with his only interaction being with Lucifer, Belphegor couldn’t seem to get enough physical contact. Especially with the human.

He knew he didn’t deserve their affection, not with how he took advantage of them, manipulated them, murdered them. But the human had enough room in their heart to forgive him, and he would take any ounce of affection they were willing to give.

But it still stung when they flinched.

It was only for an instant, but Belphegor could feel the instinctual tightening of muscles when he draped himself over their shoulder. Feel them jump when he bumped shoulders with them in the hall. Feel their heartbeat speed up when he decided to use them as a body pillow.

“You know you can tell me no, right?” he murmured sleepily as the moment passed and the human settled down.

“Would you stop if I did?”

“Hm...” he hummed, cracking open one amethyst eye to peer at them. “If you don’t like me touching you, why do you let me do it?”

The human sighed, scooting down from their position against their headboard so they were face to face with Belphegor, who still had his hands around their waist like they were a giant teddy bear.

“It’s more like...I can’t believe you want to touch me.”

Now that woke Belphie up - well, as up as he could be while still doing his best impersonation of a koala. “What?”

They laughed, but it sounded strained. “Come on, Belphie, look at me. I’m all...jiggly.”

“So?”

Silence. They looked at him like they were trying to solve a puzzle, and he met their gaze like he was trying to figure out why they couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s not like it matters,” he shrugged, snuggling down into the soft blankets and holding the human a little bit tighter. “I like touching you because you’re you. You being soft and warm is a side benefit.”

“Belphie - “

He yawned, and they genuinely couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. “Shh, I’m going to sleep. You’re my pillow, so don’t talk. Especially if it’s negative stuff like that.”

Honestly, that was the best nap they’d had in a while.

[starryevermore]

paradise island: a review

A note before we begin: everything above the cut will be spoiler free and will just be my general feelings about the story as a whole, the writing, and if I’d recommend it. Everything below the cut will include spoilers to explain my feelings about the story.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Visiting the North Shore had been a bizarre and unsettling experience, to say the least, but when they got home after vacation was over, he was going to suggest to Colby that they make a video about it.

Hell, no. Even better. Write a book. Videos melted away after a while, but a book? Books and stories solidified on the conscious mind forever. (91-92)

Overall, I enjoyed this book. I generally enjoy stories like this, but there were a few moments throughout the novel where things just fell a bit flat. 

While I was reading, I made a few notes, the first being that there was a weird juxtaposition between talking about more adult topics (drinking, women, sex, etc.) but in an odd, almost kid-friendly way. Some of the word choices were interesting, such as constant use of “fancy-pants”, “hottie”, “goofball”, “oddball”, and “doofus”, as well as the one moment where Colby said he hated “dicky” people and the moment where Sam said Colby was about to have an “emo-ruption”. (Though I did laugh a lot longer than I should have at “emo-ruption”.) It felt like they were still trying to make the story appropriate for their younger fans by using more kid-friendly language, while also appealing to their older fans by being like “look!! we drink!! and ooh look, we talked about smoking weed 👀🤪”. I wish they would’ve committed to one or the other, because it added an odd sense of disjointedness to the story that could’ve been easily resolved.

The other big thing I made note of was that there was a lot of “tell, not show” throughout. There’s a heavy focus on dialogue to progress the story rather than seeing into the boys’ inner thoughts and using other means to find out information. (I’m not one to talk, though, since I also focus more on dialogue than description.) It sometimes made it difficult to fully get into the story. I struggled with developing a picture of what the Belle Estate looked like, or what the other characters (beside SNC, Nate, and Alex) looked like. In terms of the boys, it seemed very reliant on us knowing who Sam and Colby are and what they’re all about (which is fair, since probably 99.9% of people who bought the book are fans of them but, if they want success outside of their audience, it could’ve been more descriptive in that regard). 

As for the big twist at the end, it was a bit lackluster. I’ll go more in detail on this in the “spoiler section”, but it kind of diminished everything that had happened throughout the story and left me wondering “what was the point?”. 

I was excited when I’d heard that the story was told through both Sam and Colby’s POVs, but, I’ll be honest, I saw little difference between Sam’s chapters than Colby’s chapters. The most difference was the almost stereotypical portrayal of Sam being the logical one while Colby being the emotional one. Aside from that, they were almost indistinguishable from me and I often had to flip back to the start of a chapter to remind myself of who’s head I was in.

Since that was all critical, here’s some things I did like:

I feel like, while the inner monologues were a bit lacking, Gaby did make up for it by making the dialogue between the boys really realistic to them. In this regard, she really nailed the portrayal of them. 

The depiction of the paranormal things was really great. I feel like those parts were the ones I could get most into the story. The way Gaby wrote them was so interesting and pulled me in. I wish there was more of these moments throughout the story, because I think they really showcased who Gaby is as a writer.

The convo where Colby called Sam “Velma” and then Nate asked if Colby was “Fred”? I really enjoyed that because (a) Scooby is my favorite thing in the whole world and (b) I chose Sam and Colby be Velma and Fred in my moodboards a month ago so just a lil fun moment for me.

Just how meta the book was. Like, the quote I included at the top? I laughed for way too long when I read that. 

There was a nice sense of nostalgia throughout, specifically when they brought up their YouTube channel, their Vine days, them being arrested, wining a Teen Choice Award, and Corey and the Shadowman. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and reminded me of how proud I am for how far they’ve come.

*slight spoiler here* Speaking of being arrested, there was a moment where SNC were contemplating escaping to the beach and they had a conversation if it was worth being arrested again. I really loved that, especially with how much fans joke about them inevitably being arrested again.

This is more for the person who designed the cover, but holy shit?? I loved it so much?? 

I don’t know if I would have picked this book up if it didn’t have Sam and Colby’s name attached to it. I will say, though, I finished the book in one sitting, which is pretty rare for me nowadays, so it was engaging. I think, overall, it was a great story with a great concept but it could’ve been fleshed out more. In some ways, it almost felt like this was a draft rather than a completed novel. 

That being said, for SNC’s first book and Gaby’s first time working with the boys, it exceeded my expectations. If they were to continue writing books together, I imagine it will get better and better as they get more used to each other and potentially open up more so that their characters become a more accurate depiction of them.

Overall, the book’s not something you really need to race out to get. I think, if you have a gift card or there’s some sort of deal or you need to spend a little more to get free shipping, it wouldn’t hurt to pick up Paradise Island. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a great, top-tier novel in my opinion. That being said, if you do pick it up, I think you will enjoy the book.

Spoiler Avenue

The characterization of all four of the boys is a bit 2D. Sam’s logical and wants to keep the peace, Colby’s emotional and more of a wildcard, Nate’s focused on his schoolwork and flexing his vocabulary, and Alex? Well, I couldn’t get a good read on Alex until he sells out SNC at the end of the novel and even then, he didn’t feel so much like his own character, more like someone just present to further the plot.

Speaking of characters, the introduction of Trey was...meh. I wish we could’ve gotten more insight on why Colby was so adamant about not liking Trey and why Nate was so gung ho to ditch their plans to go to the North side of the island for this guy they barely knew. Finding out that Colby didn’t like Trey because he said college was the only way to success was such an odd thing? Like, undoubtedly there’s been many people who would’ve said that, so does Colby also dislike everyone who’s said that or is there a more specific reason he didn’t like Trey? Just...👏🏻 more 👏🏻 inner 👏🏻 thoughts 👏🏻 please 👏🏻 and 👏🏻 thank 👏🏻 you 👏🏻 

@golbrocklovely​ brought this up in her review but Colby’s fixation on the  mermaid statue of a 16-year-old was really odd. It probably wouldn’t have been as odd if Amy was aged up a bit to 18, but as a 16-year-old with the descriptions that were given? Yeah...not the vibe.

I also wasn’t a fan of how so many things plot-wise was just...told to the boys. They could’ve found some newspaper clippings or something, anything to make them put in a little bit of detective work. But for so much information to just be handed to them? It got old, and almost lazy. 

The big twist being that all of the paranormal stuff they’d encountered being a hallucination? God, that was so fucking annoying (though I did go back afterwards from the moment that they first arrived at the Belle Estate—starting as early as page 36—and it felt incredibly obvious knowing now that it was all drugs, so props to Gaby for dropping that many hints early on). To spend so much time making all of this scary shit happen just to turn around and say “HAHA JK THE BOYS WERE JUST TRIPPING BALLS” was such a cop out. It would’ve been more terrifying for it all to be real, make the boys question their beliefs and the reality of there being something out there that they didn’t quite understand. Though, there is something terrifying about not knowing you’ve been drugged and having hallucinated that vividly, but I feel like it didn’t quite fit in with the story. 

Alex betraying the boys? So interesting! This was one of the few things that made sense in terms of them being drugged. But then when he was betrayed when Pauahi (who’s name was misspelled a few different times in the book) escaped? Ugh, amazing. We love instant karma like that. 

Going back to the “tell not show” thing, I wish the sacrifice at the end would’ve been more detailed. For all of the paranormal stuff to be written off as a drug-induced hallucination, I would’ve loved if Gaby had leaned more into the horror of being used in a human sacrifice. There was more of a focus on Colby bargaining for his life, which is fair, but I would’ve loved to see more of the pure terror there.

That being said, the way Trey finally snapped out of it? *chef’s kiss* Loved that shit so much. And I loved the fact that Trey stayed behind in the end. It added a nice eeriness to the story that had been lacking since they debunked the paranormal shit as being hallucinations. 

Again, going back to my overall, thoughts, I enjoyed the book in general. Some things could’ve been fleshed out a bit more to reach its full potential. I wish they leaned more into the paranormal aspect and had more descriptions to balance out all of the dialogue, but other than that, I did enjoy the book and don’t regret buying it. 

[eyecicles]

Beyond Birthday for 003 and MattxMello for 002 :3

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

Beyond Birthday

How I feel about this character: I love B in all his ridiculousness. Mostly I feel like he was accidentally written in a way I can very much enjoy, but he’s definitely one of my faves. He’s my biggest reminder that 2006 was a real year that happened.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: I think just Mello and Light

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Oh, definitely him and Naomi. While I was deeply disappointed with how they portrayed Naomi’s intelligence, their dynamic is still the most entertaining element of Another Note. Also, even though L and B don’t have much of a “relationship”, I like how L seems to give zero fucks about B on a personal level. This seems to be one of the few IC things about him in AN…

My unpopular opinion about this character: I honestly don’t agree with 90% of what the fandom has to say about B, haha. One of the bigger things seems to be how people interpret his and A’s relationship. I mean, we don’t know if they even knew each other, and everything about them is open to interpretation, but if they did met, I don’t see them becoming friends. I have very, very different ideas about how their dynamic would be like. And B’s motives were always completely self-serving in my mind.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I appreciate the Talking Heads references, but I wish B could have made at least a bit more sense. Because that’s just not how you write a novel meant for a mainstream audience.

Favorite friendship for this character: B doesn’t deserve friends. B should be miserable. No, but I do like the potential of his and Mello’s relationship. Although Mello’s thoughts about B seem to be OOC as well, I think what we have in AN is at least partlystill interesting.

My crossover ship: Hmmm… Lady Macbeth

-

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

MattxMello

When I started shipping them: I liked them pretty much from the beginning

My thoughts: Ships based on friendships are good. And even though I don’t think they were as close as many people of the fandom seem to think, I’m still thankful for what we’ve got, haha. Matt also showed Mello’s more human side. The popularity of this ship sometimes, uh, annoys me a bit, because I think there are more interesting ones and seeing Matt everywhere is a bit… disappointing, when we have other, better developed characters who just get ignored. But yeah, that’s not the ship’s fault, lol. So I’m still quite fond of it

What makes me happy about them: I find their dynamic a fun one and it’s pretty easy to come up with good dialogue for them

What makes me sad about them: Well… canon doesn’t treat any ship that well and we all know what happens to Mello and Matt

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: I don’t read fics with them as the main ship, but what I don’t like about it, whenever it makes an appearance, is how aggressive Mello often seems towards Matt. Like he actually hates every part of his personality. In canon, Mello is very lenient with Matt, even when he does fuck up

Things I look for in fanfic: Well, I don’t actively look for MattxMello content, but I certainly would want their relationship to be as IC as possible. There’s no need to change anything about their dynamic, in my opinion.

My wishlist: Hmm, funny dialogue, scenes that show that they do care about each other, Mello being more than just overly aggressive and bossy, Matt being more than your neighbourhood weed smoker, Matt with his actual hair colour (it’s fine if it’s dyed red, though)

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I like Mello with lots of people, but I’m not sure if I would want him to “end up” with anyone but Matt, if I had to choose. Can I cheat and say NearxMelloxMatt?

My happily ever after for them: I enjoy the idea of them buying a house somewhere in Southern Europe, forgetting about all the Wammy stuff and just living their lives. Mello becomes a legit private detective and Matt his Computer Forensics Investigator, ha

[five-wow]

aaand my 9.18 thoughts! there are many of them. this is the episode with danny’s mother in law and it was... a ride.

half naked sweaty man growls at random cars in the dark - is this teen wolf? twilight? so many possibilities

half naked sweaty man just got hit by a truck in a way he probably won’t survive if he’s not actually a werewolf. i don’t recall that ever happening in twilight, gosh.

we get steve and danny arriving at the hilton! this i’ve seen, because it was one of the preview clips, but i do like it a lot. i also like that steve implies that danny has been holding the liver donation over steve’s head constantly for favors, because a) we haven’t actually seen danny do that in recent times as far as i remember? like, at all? but mostly: b) this opens up endless fic opportunities about the many and varied Things Danny Asks Steve To Do to repay him for, and I quote danny here, “the gift of life”. that’s beautifully dramatic. nice choice of words.

and another thing: steve is claiming that this is the last favor he’ll do for danny and then they’ll be even, but come on, steve, honey. we all know who you are. we’ve all seen you agree to run a flipping restaurant with danny. like you’re going to tell him no after this, next time he asks you to do something ridiculous

danny: “your naive optimism is uh, is very cute.” steve: [looks at danny sideways for a moment too long]

danny is trying to tell steve that his mother in law tortured him his entire marriage and steve’s not really getting it, so that’s Not Good, but i’m skipping past that for the moment and hopping straight into “what are you gonna do? just tell me.” / “i’m gonna stand there and look handsome and not say anything.” because that is Good. i rambled about this in the tags of some post, i think, but i love how steve’s response is clearly rehearsed and probably something danny fed him pretty literally (“[don’t just] stand there and look handsome” is an exact phrase danny used earlier this season, even), which is something all kinds of things could be said about in general, but also means that danny indirectly called steve cute AND handsome in the span of maybe a minute of this episode. wherever this ends up, at least it has a good start

this DANGER! DANGER! music when rachel’s mother opens the door both made me laugh with how unexpectedly over the top it was and has me kind of tired of the setup of this plotline already. terrible, horrible mother in law stories? i’m not a huge fan

alright, so i’m ignoring all the prickly passive-agressive behavior from rachel’s mom towards danny for the moment because ugh, and what i like far better anyway is how well steve is keeping to his mission to stand sit there and look handsome and not say anything. he even LOOKS AT DANNY FOR PERMISSION when rachel’s mom asks him a direct question that he can’t answer with stoic, handsome silence.

the first words out of steve’s mouth are, of course, “daniel’s my partner”. when are they not. (though he did remember the “we work together” bit this time, which is rare)

he called danny “daniel” and introduces himself as “steven” which cracks me up for no good reason. i guess he’s trying to be fancy?

i... i... you know, i just don’t really know what to say about the way rachel’s mom (amanda savage, i think? let’s call her amanda) snubs danny every chance she gets and flirts with steve in this extremely, well, almost stereotypical “rich older woman on the prowl” way. idk, i really think meeting rachel’s mom could have been very interesting, but with the way this character was written and behaves, she’s pretty much a caricature. not even in a way that’s clever or funny to me, just in a way that really tires me out because it’s mean and not very interesting and every so slightly misogynistic.

steve: “i can handle myself.” amanda, leering: “i bet you can.” danny: YEP ALRIGHT i’m going to jump in here with an unnecessary defense of steve that sounds like i’m boasting about him.

steve thinks danny needs to relax. oh boy. oh babe. that’s maybe not... quite the right way to handle this situation where your bff is very clearly being put down repeatedly by a woman that he’s been telling you (also repeatedly) that he has a bad history with. on the other hand, you know, i could almost make steve’s reaction here make sense for myself, because amanda reminds me of steve’s own mom in certain ways and steve’s never been good at standing up against doris or seeing her shit for what is really is either, so. gosh. boy has some issues. (but danny still REALLY deserves better support than this, so get over it, steve.)

why the random single word of italian, steve, omg. danny’s “kiss ass” was very deserved.

junior: “the killer’s dna or fingerprints could be on one of these vials.” tani: “ugh, wouldn’t that be oh so helpful? which probably means it’s not gonna happen.” tani, you poetic and nobel land mermaid, you really don’t know how these detective shows work, do you?

i do like this case that the rest of five-0 is working on, by the way! it’s very interesting so far

steve: “i am four glasses of champagne in today.” fdjkfdjk maybe that’s how he’s still so cheerful in amanda’s presence. hey danny, there’s your solution: day drinking.

okay. OKAY. amanda just handed steve and only steve a present for all his hard work because he “came of [his] own volition”, which sure, whatever, obviously she was going to snub danny here too by not getting him anything, but the reason for it is what bugs me. “i realize of course that daniel had to come because of the family obligations and that”, she says, but omg, WHAT family obligations? he divorced your daughter, holy shit. he’s your grandkids’ dad, but that’s a LOT of corners to take before we get to you two being family, let alone having any obligations to each other. which, really, even if he did have those - maybe you, dear amanda, could possibly be convinced to feel obligated to be ever so slightly less completely hostile to this guy who’s doing you a favor. this is. this is very annoying.

this thing where steve asks amanda about where she gets the ideas for her books and amanda says she just had some inspiration for a story about a policeman who risks everything for the love of an older woman? i mean, i knew something like that was coming, because it had to, but i still think it’s pretty damn creepy.

steve: “i would uh, i would read that.” steve, darling, the fuck are you doing.

danny: “yeah, except he can’t actually read unless it’s a cereal box or something like that.” completely untrue (steve is a nerd! steve reads for fun!), but also completely deserved, holy shit. wreck him, danny.

amanda complains about rachel’s wedding day (when she was getting married to danny, obviously, who’s sitting right next to her) and we’re getting some impressive Looks between steve and danny and yes!! that’s better!! that’s more like the understanding danny deserves

danny’s dad paid extra for the fish tank in the wedding day limousine for amanda (which means he went out of his way to get her something nice!) that she’s now ragging on, and her answer is “well daniel, you and i have different ideas of what constitutes class” which is just. god. i hate everything about that. and not even in the way where it’s fun to dislike a character, which it can be if things are done right, but in the way where it just... physically makes my skin crawl. idk if this is still supposed to be funny, but it’s not my idea of humor.

junior: “i’m pretty sure that guy thinks i’m gay.” tani: “weird. just a normal, heterosexual dude chatting up every muscley guy in this gym. what would make anyone think that?” okay, so this isn’t the most original joke ever, but this show is often so extremely straight that i’m just low key very excited about every single time they acknowledge the fact that that’s not entirely the only option. also, i love tani. so much.

TANI HAS TO IMPROVISE A DANCE CLASS. “booty boost 101.” beautiful. THAT’S the content i’m here for, omg.

danny: “you hear that stuff about the wedding?” steve: “yeah, that was a little harsh.” A LITTLE. and then he starts explaining the difference between the english and americans to danny, which, sweetheart, danny was married to an englishwoman for a decade. you’re mansplaining this except, like, to another man, for a change.

danny tells steve that he FLEW TO ENGLAND on a budget to ask amanda for rachel’s hand because rachel’s dad had passed away and amanda told him no. oh, fuck off. steve, you fuck off too, right now, because i love you but you’re being Not Great about this.

steve: “you know what that is, right? that right there, that’s self-pity.” STEVE. NO. BAD STEVE. i get where he’s coming from and maybe danny even needs to hear this on some level, but steve can’t say this shit after he’s already been taking amanda’s side all day.

steve: “cause let me telll you right now, you, my friend, you are more than adequate.” danny: “thank you. thank you.” steve: “you’re welcome.” that’s more like it! it’s a start, anyway, even though it’s probably all we’re going to get.

danny has made reservations at THREE fancy restaurants to give amanda options, but she asks for steve’s opinion and he (of course) takes her to kamekona’s. oh god. but hey, at least danny’s “please make sure that everything is fresh, because if she gets food poisoning we’ll all be killed” made me laugh.

FLIPPA READS ROMANCE NOVELS AND WILL NOT BE ASHAMED OF IT. this is the first actually good thing to come out of this whole romance novel author thing!

steve, to amanda, while danny is out of earshot: “you know i got to tell you something, i’ve known a lot of people in my life, and that man right there? [points to danny, pauses] he’s the best of the best.” this is GOOD, but you should perhaps consider not only taking danny’s side with any kind of conviction when it’s behind his back. he needs to hear this!!!

amanda pretends to be unsure if steve means flippa or danny and steve goes, actually kind of annoyed for the first time all day, “mandy”, and i appreciate that. i appreciate less that amanda immediately tries to change the subject so they’re talking about steve.

danny tries one last time to point out to amanda that she’s being unfair and when she’s still unwilling to admit to anything he calmly STANDS UP and WALKS AWAY. i can’t even put words to how much i’m cheering for him right now because SHIT YES GOOD FUCKING FINALLY. plus, the way he did this? fuck. i’m proud.

amanda’s reaction: “ah.” can we, like... send her into space? permanently?

steve’s face, though, is far more interesting to me.

lou shoots the doctor who was trying to run away in the leg!!!! holy shit, that’s exactly the thing i’m always quietly wondering about, because it would be SUCH a good way to keep someone from running without, you know, killing the suspect on the spot.

this thing with tani almost dying was intense, god.

danny is at the hotel bar and tells the bartender he has a buddy coming to meet him (which is why he buys two beers) soooo that’s very obviously steve. and then amanda turns up. which i knew would happen, because i’ve seen people talk about it, but still. not what we want.

amanda...... “swiped”..... steve’s phone. meaning she lured danny here using steve. great. awesome. just, really, just super. (like. fucking at least be honest about wanting to talk to danny or something, if that’s what you want. he’s been nothing but curteous to you despite your horrific behavior, and still you feel the need to trick him into this? jesus.)

“sorry for all the subterfuge but i had to have a conversation with you and i knew that you’d say no if i asked.” if there’s one thing that’s become pretty clear this episode it’s that she literally doesn’t know danny at all, omg, but i guess that at least this is in character for her by now.

oh my gosh. just. oh my fucking god. amanda tells danny that she kind of identified with him because she grew up with three siblings in a two-bedroom apartment, but she always wanted something more, and she was looking for a good man but never found one, and then she was jealous of rachel when rachel found danny because he is a good man. this is so many levels of fucked up all stacked on top of each other that i don’t even want to try to pry them apart right now.

danny, very drily: “hm.” I LAUGHED SO HARD. this episode is shitty to danny, but at least danny’s reactions are very on point and relatable.

amanda goes on, and of course shit gets worse, because her bodyguard isn’t even out of commission, she just used that as a ploy to “have a talk” with danny. danny kind of laughs like this is the weirdest shit he’s heard all week and goes “yeah?” and honestly, poor guy.

danny: “you didn’t wanna just tell me that when you, when you first saw me? you wonna torture me for the whole day?” you know, one thing i’m glad for is that at least, at the very least, the show lets danny be fully aware that this is Not Okay.

amanda: “do you care about my daughter, daniel?” danny: “yes, i do.” amanda: “well good, then don’t toy with her affections. i know that you two have been seeing each other a lot and i know that she is talking about you all the time so i don’t want to see her hurt again, okay?” listen. this is just. this is just such bizarre retcon shit the writers are trying to pull about the way things between rachel and danny went down that i just. i’m mad, on some level, sure, but mostly i just have to laugh because it’s so ridiculous? danny’s mother in law is an absolute nightmare to him all day, then lies to get him to this hotel bar for a talk, confesses she orchestrated this entire day just to get to this talk (but still wilfully made him miserable for some reason? why???), and tells him that he shouldn’t play with her daughter’s feelings after she’s never been anything but awful to him, has tried to keep her away from her daughter from the very start, and just told him that she apparently did all of that (for years and years!) because she was jealous that rachel had found a Good Man and she hadn’t. i am. completely overwhelmed, honestly. this is too much to take in.

amanda: “i want you to do right by her. will you do right by her?” danny: “yes.” danny looks confused, and that’s how i feel, honestly.

... and. and then he pays for champagne for her. wasn’t she having dinner with rachel and the kids? why is she drinking champagne with danny now? 

okaaaaay. so. this was... an episode. that’s something i can say for sure.

for all of the rest of it, i think i need to give this some time to sink in and mull it over, because there’s A LOT to unpack here. amanda is, uh, a strong character. she doesn’t seem like a person i’d wish on anyone, least of all as a mom. rachel’s deception and her penchant for lying to danny? yeah, i can see where that’s coming from, now. that’s one interesting thing to come from this episode, i suppose - some character background for rachel.

then there’s steve, who took most of this way less seriously than i think he really should have, and when he finally started seeing sense and sticking up for danny near the end of the episode, he just... disappeared. i really wanted steve and danny to at least have some kind of talk after danny walked away from kamekona’s, but that was the last we saw of steve. danny was trying to have a beer with steve, but obviously that turned out to have been amanda’s charming little “ploy”, so he ended up having champagne with amanda instead. which is still. uh. weird. she never apologized for any of the shit she pulled (except for that little “sorry for all the subterfuge” which really doesn’t cover it) and even after she supposedly explained herself, she still turned her nose up at the beer that danny had bought for steve and offered to her until he said she could have something else if she wanted. doesn’t she have her own money? she’s a rich romance author. buy your own fucking champagne, amanda. or better yet, cover danny’s beer - it’s the last you could do.

what i liked a little more was danny’s complete lack of a reaction to most of what amanda said to him at the bar. i mean, he laughs and looks disbelieving and possibly a little wtf-ish, but that’s about it. i’m guessing, as usual when it comes to anything danny&rachel related, that the writers are interpreting this differently from what i want to read into this (or at least they’re using it to push in a direction i really don’t want to go), but that’s the thing about this - it’s pretty open to interpretation, because danny says very little and his faces could mean any of a million things.

also. that talk at the bar? it feels kind of useless in the end. amanda said some stuff but didn’t apologize or promise to change her behavior and in fact she seemed pretty much the same with her whole champagne thing, and danny didn’t really get to say anything at all, so this does pretty much nothing for them. i guess the champagne was meant as a celebration for... a new level of understanding? but is that really something that was happening there? you could read that into it, if you really wanted to, but i’m not seeing it.

anyway. i liked the drugs storyline that the rest of five-0 was working on! that was good. the steve and danny part... i don’t know. it was a lot.

[aubrey-plaza]

hi!!! are you still doing the fic title ask??? if yes, “everything she does is magic” for staubrey plsssss

so that reminds me of the song by The Police which leads me to: Castle AU

Stacie Conrad is the famous author of a series of crime books. Rich, hot, playboy, and a secret dork. She’s struggling to write her next novel when someone in New York City starts committing murders dedicated to her and quickly becomes a suspect in the case where she meets Aubrey Posen. 

Aubrey Posen, a NYC detective who’s pretty serious about her job and works hard, is a die-hard secret fan of Stacie Conrad’s books (even has a signed copy from a book reading years ago) but when she meets Stacie Conrad she’s immediately annoyed by the woman’s excitement surrounding the murders that she’s the lead suspect for. 

They clear Conrad’s name pretty quickly and Posen thinks she can go on with her job, the phrase “never meet your heroes” echoing loudly in her brain, when Conrad steps into the precinct the next day and drops onto the chair next to Aubrey’s desk with a wide grin and two coffees. 

“This is for you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“No, hi, hello, how are you doing, oh great one? I know you have better manners than that, detective,” Stacie taunts, offering the coffee and Aubrey reluctantly takes it on her way storming into her Captain’s office. 

“She’s friends with the mayor and asked to tag along with you,” Posen’s captain says. 

“And I get no say over this?”

“It’s just for the case. Keep her happy and she’ll be bored in no time.”

Much to Aubrey’s annoyance, Conrad does not get bored and sticks around for far longer than she’s welcome but Posen can’t do anything without angering the mayor and Conrad knows it, lords it over her head.

She grows reluctantly appreciative of Conrad’s unique takes on cases and has to begrudgingly admit that she’s pretty helpful. They grow closer and closer, friendship bordering on more and Aubrey thinks that maybe Conrad isn’t as obnoxious and annoying as she’d first thought. 

That all goes out the window when Conrad drops off the manuscript for her next book on Posen’s desk, “For my biggest fan,” she teases. 

Aubrey reads through the manuscript eagerly and with increasing anger, barely makes it through half because she finds the entire story is about them and about her. 

“You can’t publish this,” she growls after shoving Conrad into an interrogation room, unaware of the increasingly growing number of people in the observation room watching the sparring match. 

“Sure I can. I changed all the names, nobody will know it’s you,” Stacie shrugs. 

“You used me!”

“No I didn’t, I–”

“That’s all this was, right? Just a way for you to get your new story? Well congratulations, now you can finally leave.”

“It’s not like that at all! This is for you. Did you even read to the end?”

“Am I supposed to feel flattered that you apparently took my life story and put it on paper for everybody to read?”

“That’s not–!”

“Just to sell a book? That’s how little I mean to you?”

“The publisher wants to make it a series,” Stacie mumbles under her breath but Posen catches it, eyes going wide as she grows even angrier. 

“No,” she says firmly, voice low in an effort to contain her rage. “You’re done here. I don’t care if you’re friends with the goddamn President. I don’t want you anywhere near me again.”

“Aubrey…” she tries to say, hand reaching out before she can stop it but Aubrey flinches away. 

“Don’t you dare,” she growls under her breath. 

“Please just let me explain,” she begs, eyes pleading and Aubrey makes the mistake of looking at them, her anger fizzling out when she sees the tears there but she stands her ground, shakes her head. 

“I trusted you.”

For the first time in maybe ever, Stacie doesn’t push, and she stays away, never going anywhere near the precinct or near Detective Posen, and it’s a little morbid that she thinks of the detective every time she reads the news about a murder in the city. 

She sulks around the house all day, suddenly bored with her daily life, missing the daily action and daily sparring session and the only action she’s getting is her editor yelling at her to hand in a manuscript for the new book. 

There’s a knock on the door and she frowns as she looks at the clock and sees that it’s past 10. All the kids in her building have already been by and she’s given away all her candy so she’s not sure what else there is to do, and she’s about to ignore it when there’s another knock on the door, louder, more insistent this time. 

She groans halfway up the stairs, turns back to go see who’s there to bother her, ready to give them a piece of her mind and when she flings open the door, weary and tired and mouth open, ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off, she comes face to face with Detective Posen. 

She hates how her heart flutters and her chest grows warm and how she suddenly feels like she can’t breathe right but she forces through it, keeps her expression painfully blank. 

“Detective,” she says, leaning against the doorjamb while holding the door with her free hand, very pointedly not letting her in. “Miss me already?” she teases, but she’s not smiling and the words drop heavily between them. 

“Can I come in?” she asks, and Stacie brazenly ignores she nervous shift from leg to leg and the way the nail on her index finger digs into the soft tip of her thumb. 

“No,” Stacie says with a wry smile. “Sorry.”

She’s closing the door, ready to go on with her sulking and ready to return to the lovely bottle of vodka waiting for her when Aubrey urgently calls out, “I read the book!”

“What?” Stacie asks with a long sigh, turning back. 

“I read your book.”

“I didn’t publish a book.”

“I read the manuscript,” Detective Posen explains. 

“How?”

“Can you please let me in?” 

Stacie sighs but pushes open the front door, lets Aubrey into the house and the woman walks in and hovers by the couch, watching Stacie carefully. 

“How did you read my manuscript, detective?”

“You gave one to me,” the detective explains. 

“And you tossed it back at me six months ago and didn’t keep it. How did you get it?”

“Why didn’t you publish it?”

“How did you get it?” Stacie insists and the detective looks like she’s going to try the argument but then her shoulders slump and she gives in. 

“Cynthia Rose sent it to me,” she admits. 

“I’m going to kill her,” Stacie growls, walking away to go find her phone in the kitchen to send her editor a strongly worded email.  

“She sent it to me and said it was the only copy. Is that true?”

“Sure,” Stacie says with a shrug. 

“She told me you shredded all the other ones.” Stacie shrugs. “Even the typewriter scrolls.”

“So?”

“Why did you do that?”

“I don’t think I owe you an explanation, detective,” Stacie says, turning back to the detective with a frown, crossing her arms. 

“I think you do.”

“I wanted to give one to you six months ago!” Stacie finally snaps but Aubrey doesn’t seem the least bit surprised. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers and Stacie’s so surprised by the words and it shows. “I read it.” Stacie’s expression drops but her arms remain crossed. “Stacie, why did you write it?”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Stacie whispers.

“Why did you write it?”

“If you read it you know,” she throws back and Aubrey rolls her eyes. “It’s all in there.”

“Why isn’t this on people’s bookshelves right now?”

“Because it’s not meant for anybody but–!” Stacie snaps, the words getting caught in her throat. 

“Anybody but me,” Aubrey finishes but Stacie turns away to avoid her eyes. “Say it, Stacie Conrad. Say it.”

“Anybody but you.”

Stacie’s turned away so she completely misses the way Aubrey steps across the living room, caught completely by surprise when Aubrey twists her and slides a hand around her neck to urge her down, kissing her hard. 

Stacie melts into her, hands gripping Aubrey’s waist as she kisses her back, sweeps her tongue in to deepend the kiss and Aubrey moans in response, fingers curling against her scalp and Stacie slides a hand up her back to hold her close. 

Aubrey kisses her like she’s drowning and the only lifeline is her, her movements desperate and eager and she moans again, for no apparent reason except that Stacie’s kissing her and Stacie can feel her trembling in her arms. 

“Aubrey,” she manages in a gasp, drags a hand up to drag over her shoulder and cup her face, thumb sweeping over her cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” she breathes and the tears are so surprising, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen the detective cry. “I’m so sorry, please.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stacie says with a soft smile, pressing her forehead against Aubrey’s. “I shouldn’t have let you read it like that just, casual like that.”

“I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t know you–I thought it was just–” She’s gasping through her words and Stacie’s seriously concerned she’s going to choke on her own tears so she brings up her other hand and cradles Aubrey’s face in her hands, tilts her head so Aubrey’s eyes are on hers. 

“Look at me,” she urges and Aubrey does. “I understand.”

“You wrote me a love letter and I just…” She stops, straightens and reaches up to wipe away her tears. “I lo–”

“No,” Stacie interrupts her as soon as she figures out where that sentence is going and Aubrey’s whole face falls and Stacie can feel her try to shrink away, face blanching with horror. “No, if you’re going to say it I want you to do it right. Not teary and apologetic.” Aubrey’s brow twitches so Stacie grins, puts on a teasing voice. “I wrote you a love-book. So, come on.”

Aubrey finally cottons on, chuckles through her tears and steps away, sniffling hard and shaking her head as if to clear her mind from her thoughts, hand wiping away the last of the tears. 

Stacie watches as she cracks her neck quickly before standing up straight, shoulders squared back and staring at Stacie head on, biting the corner of her lower lip and Stacie almost breaks, almost closes the gap to kiss her again. 

“Stacie Conrad–”

“Yes?”

“I love you too,” she adds after a quick eye roll at the interruption. 

Stacie blames it on Aubrey’s lingering tears for how bright her eyes are even though she knows that’s all Aubrey and she gives in, hauls Aubrey closer and kisses her again, swallowing a surprised gasp. 

“Good.”

send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it

[cosmicmadwoman]

Adam and Eve Chapter 11: Visitation Rights

The next installemtn is here! To read from the beginning: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11360046/chapters/26973768

Summary: Polly, Betty and Jughead meet Scott and our sleuths do some more digging.

Rated: M

Word Count: 4301

Betty gave Jughead the cold shoulder the rest of the night until they were in their pajamas and laying on the deflated air mattress. The blonde teen was on her back and arms crossed with her slitted into a leer.

“Are you ready to turn the light off?” Jughead asked, clearly not knowing what to say or do. He assured her that he believed her and would not make her see RJ again, but his girlfriend was still reeling and denying kisses and touches. That was the worst part.

“I don’t care,” Betty shrugged, her arms still crossed tightly.

Jughead paused. Maybe this was more than RJ and more than his momentary insensitivity (which he hates himself for doing, like that night in Archie’s garage) and about a big day they were having tomorrow; meeting their brother. They hadn’t talked about it at all really, and that was rare for them as they share everything with each other. Betty hadn’t spoken to Polly much either since she left her home, so all her thoughts and fears weren’t explored yet, they were just sitting and festering inside her brain.

“Do you wanna talk about tomorrow?” Jughead asked gently.

Betty noticeably relaxed her shoulders, but her arms were still crossed. Jughead turned on his side, propping his head up on his hand and observed her quivering lip.

“Was is there to talk about?” Betty declared half-heartedly.

The raven haired boy smoothed the hair on her forehead lovingly and Betty didn’t flinch like he thought she would, further proving his theory that she wasn’t upset with him specifically, but in general and was taking out on him. She knew in her heart that she was safe doing that with him.

“We are meeting our brother, tomorrow, Betty. It’s a lot to process,” Jughead said.

She shook her head slightly and a stray tear slid down the side of her face and into her hair and the pillow. She rolled over away from Jughead, but he wouldn’t give up. He usually was the one to push people away when he needed them most, and Betty seemed to have taken a page from his novel. He put an around around her waist and pressed his front to her back lightly, kissing the back of her neck that was bare because of her high ponytail.

“I love you,” Jughead murmured into her hair, “Talk to me. Don’t shut down.”

Betty took a deep breath and turned face to face with her boyfriend. His blue eyes were so forgiving and her heart hurt with love for him. What other teenage boy could support her like he does? Archie never could have been the rock that Jughead was consistently. A curl fell into his eyes and Betty moved it back gently.

“We share a brother. What other couples have that? How can it not change things between us?” Betty questioned urgently.

This felt like it was coming out of nowhere to Jughead. “I thought you didn’t care.”

“Do you?”

Jughead shrugged and kissed her forehead quickly, “Honestly, no. Sure it’s complicated, but you and me, together, that’s not complicated. We love each other.”

“You have to admit it’s weird,” Betty giggled.

“Fucking weird,” Jughead laughed too, and before they knew it, they were laughing in each other’s arms at the absurdity of life.

Polly called around 8:30 the next morning. Betty and Jughead were already awake, dressed and in the kitchen making eggs and hot chocolate.

“Hey, Pol,” Betty greeted.

“I miss you,” Polly said sadly.

Betty didn't want her to do this. Play the victim like she did so well; of course she’d been through so much, but Betty had to take care of herself too, and self-care was being away from that house.

“Miss you too!” Betty said shortly.

There was a brief silence before Polly continued, “Can you give me Jughead’s address so I can meet you guys? The cafe where we are meeting him is about an hour away, I looked it up.”

Betty recited the address, which reminded her that Polly had never actually been to the Southside, and compared it to how much that part of town began to mean to her. Unlike her mother, who felt trapped in the chain link fence, Betty found freedom from the weighted expectations of the Northside.

The sisters hung up after goodbyes and Betty sighed inwardly. She was so nervous, her heart was heavy and felt like it was barely able to stay in her chest without falling to her stomach, crumbling under its own weight.

“When exactly is Polly coming?” Jughead asked suddenly.

“Um, 9:30. Why?”

“I think I’m going to see my dad quickly. Just let him know where I am going,” Jughead explained, “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“If that’s what you want to do, Juggie, then it’s a good idea,” Betty smiled and brought him in close for a strong hug.

He nodded wearily and grabbed his jacket, putting his shoes on and grabbing the keys. “I’ll be back soon.”

Jughead wasn’t sure what had come over him to see his dad. He hadn’t visited since they were in deep with the case, since FP told him to leave things alone for his own safety. Which of course is the opposite of what he had done. He contemplated telling his dad about the Serpents on the ride over, but decided against it quickly, knowing how furious he would be. This visit isn’t about me, he thought, it’s about my brother. God, the words my brother felt foreign in his head.

Once he arrived, the attendant there ushered him in after signing paperwork, seemed surprised to see him. FP must not get many visitors.

When the older man rose his head to see whose footsteps were clunking down the hallway, he rushed to bars and smiled brightly, contrasting the heaviness and hardness of the bars surrounding him.

“My boy!” He cried happily.

Jughead just nodded in response and stood in front of him. FP was always an emotional man, and so Jughead wasn’t alarmed when he saw soft tears stain his father’s cheeks.

“I know I told you never to come back, but I really did miss you. What brings you here?”

“I wanted to tell you I’m meeting Scott today. Scott as in--”

FP interrupted, “I know who he is.”

“Crazy, huh?” Jughead awkwardly laughed after a loaded pause.

“If I had known, I would’ve stepped up, I want you to be aware of that. I was a shit father, I’ve had plenty of time here to think about that, but I would've tried to make it work. I wonder if you two would get along. Or if he’s like me… or her. If he looks like me, even,” FP rambled, then let out a breath when he was finally finished.

“He looks like you,” Jughead answered.

FP smiled briefly and went to his desk to grab something. He handed a piece of paper to Jughead through the bars, looking around to make sure the loittering guards had their backs turned.

“This is a letter I wrote to him. I haven’t had the guts to send it yet, but since you’re seeing him, well, maybe you could give it to him,” FP said, his voice small and hopeful like a child’s asking to stay up past their bedtime.

“Of course, Dad,” Jughead said. The man could be so pitiful sometimes. That’s probably why Gladys stayed as long as she did. Every time he fucked up he would pout and look like a broken winged bird, and she just had to piece him back together because, look, he was so helpless. And that’s also why Jughead still loved his father, despite leaving him homeless and taking up with a gang that he himself had gotten tangled into.

“Uh, thanks.”

“I should get going,” Jughead finally said, not knowing what else to do. He did what he came here to do.

“Of course, of course,” FP said, but Jughead could tell he was disappointed.

Jughead started to wave goodbye, but FP grabbed him through the bars and brought their forehead together as close as he could, the edges of their heads crushing into the cool metal.

“I love you, kid,” the older man whispered.

The son nodded and squished his face to keep back tears. FP released him when a guard rounded the corner and rubbed his nose on his hand. The men parted and Jughead went back to the truck, sitting in the seat, feeling the cool air fill his lungs, and didn’t start the engine. He pulled the crisp letter from his pocket and unfolded it. He shouldn’t be doing this, the letter was private between his dad and Scott, but he was a detective after all, and snooping into private things was like second nature.

Dear Scott,

I’m going to start off by saying I didn’t know I had a third kid but I already love you. And also start by warning you I’m not a good Dad, I try, but things are always a little fucked up when it comes to me. I don’t act like a good father to the kids I do have, so I don’t know what gives me the right to say this, but I would love to meet you. I can’t really comes see you, cuz I’m in jail, which is further evidence that I’m a total fuck up, but everything I do comes from a place of trying to take care of the broken semblance of family I do have. The people who will still have me, I like to think. Couple of guys from work and Jughead. I have done nothing good for him and he still forgives. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done and I’d like you to meet him sometime too. Maybe Jellybean, your sister, would meet you too. She’s a spitfire. Haven’t heard from her in a while though. Don’t blame her, really. I’ve always been better at being a ghost.

Maybe we can connect. On your terms, I don’t want to push anything. I would be honored to get to know you. My son.

FP.

Jughead wanted to smash the steering wheel and he had no idea why. Nothing was ever easy for any member of the Jones family, they were all sad and useless and broken. He hated being like this, hated that all he had to offer was a sad grimace and poetry about falling apart. He was done falling apart, done playing poor Jones boy. He felt like a fucking coward. Betty was a lion, she could take anyone down but… he still had a darkness that wouldn’t take over. He needed it to fuel a power. Power over his life that he never had before.

A text from Betty interrupted his thoughts and asked him he was almost done, not to rush him, but the clock was ticking. He started the car and bombed out of the parking lot.

When he got back to the trailer, Polly was waiting, leaning up against her car. She was 15 minutes early, obviously hyped up and nervous. There really wasn’t a way to prepare for meeting your secret long lost brother. Betty came outside shortly and hugged him fiercely.

“How did it go?” Betty asked sincerely.

“He gave me a letter for Scott,” Jughead said.

“That’s sweet,” Betty replied, reaching on her tiptoes and kissing his forehead.

“Okay enough PDA!” Polly shouted from her car, which she insisted on taking because Jughead’s looked to her like a death mobile, “let’s get on the road, lovers!”

Polly was talkative the whole hour ride. Betty drove, Polly was in the passenger seat, and Jughead lounged in the back seat. He didn’t get much sleep last night, they really needed to buy a new air mattress or something.

The cafe was almost identical to the one in Riverdale, but with more hipster inspired decor. Greendale was a mixture of NYC and Riverdale, if there ever could be one. It had actually mainstream stores, not just mom and pop shops, had a music and comedy scene, great food, but still managed to hold onto a small town appeal through unique shops and clean neighborhoods.

The three entered and the door hangings jingled loudly. It caused Betty to jump a little; she was already on edge. She scanned the seats at the coffee bar and the ones scattered around the shop, but a Cooper-Jones hybrid was nowhere to be found. They were about twenty minutes early, but it was because they were anxious, and they hoped he was too. The three found two couches in the corner with low lighting and sat there silently, all watching the door intently. When they finally let their eyes wander, the jingles sounded again and a tall handsome young adult with slicked back black hair entered, a more cleaned up version of FP Jones, really. He scanned the shop just as they did, and Polly waved jovially when his eyes landed on them. He quirked his eyebrows slightly, but smiled in returned and walked to them. He was wearing an expensive looking gray peacoat and he unbuttoned it when he sat down.

“Well, hi!” He greeted, laughing a little at the situation.

“Oh, give me a hug,” Polly smiled and got up slowly, embracing him when he stood as well. Her belly got in the way and she felt she had to address it. “I’m due in mid January. Twins. Yeah, it’s kind of a dark spot for the Cooper family.”

Scott shook his head and admired her stomach. “A child is always a miracle. That’s what my mom always told me. Well, children in your case.”

Betty got up to hug him too and Jughead shook his hand. He wasn’t much of a hugger, unless it came from Betty.

“This is my boyfriend, Jughead,” Betty introduced. “And… also your brother.”

The older boy’s head shivered like he was taking a double take. “Um?”

Betty laughed awkwardly, “Oh not, that came out wrong, he’s not my brother. Our mom had an affair with his dad in high school, and well… you came along.”

“This is a lot to process,” Scott said seriously, “Can we get coffee first?”

Scott moved to get up, not waiting for an answer and Jughead stood up with him. He handed him the letter from his back pocket, and the green eyed man took it slowly.

“It’s from my dad. Or ours. Or whatever,” Jughead shrugged and sat back down with a thud. The couch rocked underneath him. Scott just nodded and headed to make a drink order.

“Do you think we are too much for him?” Polly murmured to her sister and Jughead.

“We definitely come with a lot of baggage,” Jughead replied snidely.

Betty knocked him with her knee. They were still family, even though they had just met, they were still bonded by blood. He wouldn’t toss them aside because they’re like tarnished silver. She observed him read the letter by the bar where he waited for his coffee. Betty hadn’t asked Jughead what was in it, that was personal, but by the look on Scott’s face, he was very surprised but also unimpressed. The barista handed him his coffee and returned to the couch and sat down on the edge of his cushion.

“So, this FP guy is in jail?” Scott asked Jughead directly.

“Yeah. I don’t know if you heard about Jason Blossom, but he was a teen that went to Riverdale High and his father killed him over some argument about the family drug ring. My dad didn’t kill him but, he helped cover it up. He’s not a really bad guy, he just got mixed up,” Jughead explained.

“I think I heard about that in New York, actually. Pretty small towns with big secrets is always a popular story,” Scott said flatly.

“Riverdale is more than that,” Jughead began to protest, but Scott didn’t seem like he was in the mood for philosophical discussions. After reading the letter his demeanor had quickly shifted from welcoming to skeptical.

“Jason Blossom is actually the father of my children,” Polly divulged rubbing her stomach affectionately, “I didn’t know he was my cousin at the time.”

Scott sat up abruptly and clenched his fists like a cartoon character who was angry. His fist were flushed from clenching so hard, just like Betty would, but she didn’t see any blood trailing his palms.

“You’re kidding, right? This feels like a practical joke! Are you even my siblings? Like the things you’re saying are… they’re crazy!” Scott cried. People throughout the cafe started to attempt craning their neck discreetly.

“I don’t like that word,” Betty murmured, and Jughead held onto her hand.

Polly stood up along with him and put her hands on her hips like she was about to reprimand her future children. “I’m sorry we aren’t perfect and cheery but this is our life and I am offended that you would suggest that we are lying! Who could make this stuff up!”

“I expected we would sit have coffee, have light surface conversation, get to know each other a little but this… this is too much. This is crazy!” Scott continued, flailing his arms.

Betty shot up and got in between Polly and Scott, “Stop saying that word. We aren’t crazy.”

“This,” making a pointing gesture at all three of the Riverdale kids, “isn’t normal, I hope you know. This is crazy!”

Before anyone in the entire cafe had time to blink, Betty wound up and slapped him clear across the face. He held it and stared at her, her own intense green eyes now mirroring back at her with horror. He left the cafe immediately after that, not saying a word to anyone. They were promptly escorted out of the building and got back in the car, Betty in the driver’s seat again. Her mind was completely numb, she couldn’t believe she had slapped her own brother, but she warned him not to call her crazy. Crazy and perfect were like swears to her, she cringed at them the same way an old lady would cringe at fuck and shit. Both words were things she faked she was and wasn’t.

“I don’t think that went well,” Jughead murmured.

“No shit,” Polly said and rested her head on her hand as she gazed out the window.

“I’m sorry I fucked it up for you guys,” Betty said.

“You didn’t, Betty. He was an ass. I would’ve slapped him too, eventually,” Polly smiled affectionately when she turned to her sister and Betty smiled back. They held hands the rest of the way home. The Cooper girls always had each other.

They got back to the trailer around 12:45pm. Polly said her goodbyes, kissed her sister on the cheek, and went back to Betty’s childhood home. Betty turned to go back inside bit Jughead stopped her.

“Betty, I’m genuinely sorry it turned out like that. Maybe he’ll come around when he gets off his high horse,” Jughead offered.

“You know, I thought we abandoned him as a family, that we robbed him of a good life. Looks like he got a better one than we did,” Betty said.

Jughead chuckled at the irony and kissed her lips slowly. He hadn’t expected much from Scott really, he learned to not expect much from anybody, but Betty did. He imagined she concocted this fairytale ever after family with Scott, always seeing the best of everything.

“You know what would make you feel better?” Jughead said when he pulled away.

“What?”

“Some good old fashioned sleuthing,” Jughead said in sing song voice.

“It’ll take my mind off things,” Betty conceded, “So what’s the plan?”

“We hit up where Hiram Lodge was in jail and see if we can get someone to tell us who visited him,” Jughead explained excitedly.

“Seems far fetched, but we might as well try,” Betty said sadly.

Jughead hated seeing her like this. He opened the truck door for her and they went off.

Hiram Lodge stayed in a low security prison, so Jughead hoped they would be lenient with their records. The drive was only a half an hour and in the middle of nowhere. The judge wanted Hiram away from the city and away from his contacts, but that didn’t seem to make a difference, he still operated things from his steel box.

Betty reached for Jughead’s hand and kissed his fingertips lightly, just wanting to show him how much she loved him in the face of rejection. Her own brother thought they were nuts. She thought briefly about the labeling theory from her sociology class; if enough people tell you you’re something, even when you’re not, you’re bound to become that way. She thought she fit into that.

There was a parking space near the front, but Jughead opted for a further parking spot, the brightly colored old school truck was conspicuous.

“Are you going to tell your mom about Scott?” Jughead asked after he turned off the car.

“No. She’ll just say I’ll told you so or something like that. I doubt Polly will spill either,” Betty sighed.

Jughead rubbed her knee, “Hey, Betts. You already have all the family you need. And it seems like he does too. If he can’t see what honest, resilient and totally awesome we all are, that’s his deal.”

“I know, I know, but to have your blood think you’re not worth it--”

“You are Betty. Sure, blood is thicker than water or whatever old people say, but he doesn’t know you. How loving, passionate, driven and smart you are. And he doesn’t deserve to either.”

Betty smiled through emerging tears and hugged him over the center console.

“I love you,” she murmured. “I wish I could have sex with you right now.”

Jughead laughed and kissed her hair, “Me too.”

Betty leaned back and smirked, “We have some detective work to do, Mister.”

The raven haired boy returned the smirk and they walked inside. The reception area looked suspiciously cozy for a prison, with cream colored walls and a green striped rug in the center. Chairs were set up in different corners, one set surrounded a TV, likely used for visitors waiting to be called in. It was on and playing Judge Judy, which made Jughead giggle. Betty knocked him with her elbow and made him focus on the task ahead. The attendant at the desk was a robustly shaped blond woman and she opened her window when she saw them approach.

“What can I do for ya?” she asked the two in a thick, old timey brooklyn accent.

“We would like to see Hiram Lodge’s visitation log please,” Jughead asked with faux confidence.

The woman scoffed and looked between the two, “You jokin’, right?”

Betty stepped in, “Uh, no ma'am. My name is Betty Blossom, I am Penelope Blossom’s niece. Perhaps you’ve heard of her?”

Jughead cut her a look that screamed what are you doing!

“Oh, Mrs. Blossom, yes I’ve met her,” the attendant answered incredulously.

“The Lodges and the Blossoms know each other quite well,” Betty continued, “and my aunt sent me to keep tabs on him, to make sure he’s… on the right track, so to speak. She would’ve come herself, but you know how she is.”

This idea came to Betty while Jughead was talking to the guard and she couldn’t believe it hadn’t connected before, P. Penelope Blossom. P could have been Polly, but that was completely out of the realm of possibility. It could have been a random person she didn’t know, but the Blossom pen in his desk suggested otherwise. They were silly for coming here, the truth was in their faces, but she needed conformation.

“I do, Ms. Betty Blossom, she’s quite the woman. She was very nice one time, giving me a big tip once when I helped her spruce up after a visit. Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear that about your aunt. Here, just a quick peek,” The woman said and she shuffled away to a cabinet in the back of the little room.

“So that answers our question,” Jughead whispered to her. “You didn’t tell me you had a hunch it was Penelope.”

“It just came to me. We should still check out the log though. Having an affair doesn’t necessarily connect to murder,” Betty replied quietly.

The large woman returned and held out a file with a few pages in it. “Just a little lookin’. I’m not really supposed to do this, Ms. Blossom.”

Betty cringed inwardly at being called Ms. Blossom. The pair scanned the pages and saw Penelope’s name, that was confirmed, along with a lot of other fancy sounding names like William Montgomery and Harold Van der Pol. Betty refrained from taking pictures in front of the woman, so they had to try to commit the names to memory. Nothing else screamed out at them, like a name like Hacksaw, so they thanked the woman and went back outside.

“Them having an affair doesn’t make them guilty,” Betty reiterated in the car.

“I know. It even makes less sense, because now what would be Hiram’s motive? He doesn’t love Hermione, so he wouldn't kill Fred for being her lover, right? Then it would have to be because Fred wouldn’t sell Andrews’ construction like Archie said, but killing Fred wouldn’t give Hiram the business, Archie inherits it,” Jughead thought aloud.

“Hiram would have to put the pressure Archie,” Betty continued. “Which I don’t think he has.”

“Things just don’t add up,” Jughead said.

“There are still things to discover, but we are close. I can feel it.”

[sevensity]

RFA/Minor Trio and MC as the World’s Greatest Detective

So originally I wrote this for @makosharkies but then Tumblr just tossed it  away why u play me like dis?

This is written for a super detective who hides behind a fake name, like L aka Ryuzaki aka best sad alien man boy of all time. She chooses to confide her secret to the RFA because???? The power of friendship prevails all!!!11

  YOOᔕᑌᑎG:

As soon as you tell him your alias, he’s like wait what?

You mean that super famous detective who’s been solving decade-long cases?

Is worried that being the world’s greatest detective means you’ll somehow get your hands on his browser history so he has a mini heart-attack

But other than that, is super excited to try out your skills, so he’ll often come up to you and ask all sorts of questions that you have to guess i.e “MC what did I eat for supper last night?” “Fettuccini Alfredo and a Caesar salad.” “Oh my god! You really are a genius!” “Yoosung pls we had dinner together.”

Anyways, you answer all his questions right

Yoosung’s admiration level is over 9000 (wow I’m so funny)

He starts reading mystery novels, has difficulty understanding how the crimes happened and how they were solved, but the boy is trying okay

Falls in love with Agatha Christie, and gushes to you about how intricate the murders are, and how cool Monsieur Poirot is, and you just patiently listen to him go on and on because gosh darn the boy is cute

But of course keeps reminding you that you’re the most amazing of all

Yoosung gets a Sherlock hat and parades around his apartment wearing it, plus it’s honestly the best thing to witness cuz the ear flaps bounce up and down as he runs around you, making him look like an actual puppy

Yoosung come here I want to pet you forever

  ᒍᑌᗰIᑎ:

To be honest the world’s greatest detective paired up with a corporate giant is an absolutely terrifying combination in the business world

You can investigate the dark secrets of his competition and expose all of their back deals, thus ruining their reputation and standing

Likewise, any sabotage attempts are quickly ended in you revealing the culprits, leading to their arrest, so soon nobody bothers to try and take Jumin down anymore because they already know the outcome

His influence and power has doubled, maybe even tripled, and it’s all thanks to you

But still, he keeps reminding you not to push yourself, and you keep reminding him that solving things is part of your job and that it’s a lot of fun

When he sees you trying to solve an actual, difficult case though, he can only stand back and just watch in amazement as the person he loves gives all the right answers to mysteries that befuddled the world for ages

Tbh being a detective sounds really cool but my observation skills are limited to “This wall pattern is missing a stripe,” and  "My right boob is 0.6cm higher than my left one,” and then thinking about it all day long 

  ᘔEᑎ:

“Babe, if you’re the best detective in the world, can you determine the cause of my godly looks?”

Zen n o

It’s cool because whenever he receives hate mail, or anti fans do something to cause him trouble, you’ll swoop in like a midnight vigilante and find the culprit in a heartbeat

Zen’s all like wait aren’t I supposed to protect you but honestly he loves knowing that you’re basically his personal super hero

Low key wants you to dress up as a superhero to go and catch the perpetrator 

Z e n NO

He also finds it enchanting how quickly your mind works, and how you can figure out the most difficult things using just the smallest of hints

At some point he has a play in which his role is that of a detective, so he keeps asking you for advice on how to portray his character properly

Zen I’m sorry but I’ve never met such a flamboyant detective in my life

He’d probably end up causing more crimes with his sinful looks if he were an actual detective tho

  ᔕᗩEYOᑌᑎG:

*in the case that MC did not single-handedly arrest Unknown and just proceeded to enter the apartment normally*

So he kind of freaked out at first, because not two hours had passed since you joined the group chat did you call him by his actual name during your very first phone convo. You ask him about his past and current life, and said you would be willing to try and rejoin him and his bro bro

*cue nervous seven nervously sweating while having a nervous breakdown*

Yet he couldn’t really figure out anything about you, no matter how hard he tried

But later you tell him your alias, and he’s like OH WHAT NO WAY???

He’s been a hardcore fan for the longest time

Y’all have mystery nights, where you take turns creating a crime scene and the quickest one to solve the problem wins a bag of Honey Buddha Chips

To be honest, Seven’s cases are so extravagant and weird sometimes it’s hard to get past the “Seven what the fuck?” stage, but you manage to solve them all anyways

And when it’s Seven turn to solve your mysteries, he’s like that kid taking a math test that uses the wrong equation but still ends up with the right answer

It’s pretty amazing actually

Once, when you were solving a case, Seven asked you how you came to your conclusion, and just as a joke you said “’Tis elementary, my dear Watson.”

He proceeded to flip his darn shit

After that, he constantly asks you to cosplay as Sherlock Holmes and walk around with him outside, of course with him dressed up as maid Watson

You comply and it’s surprisingly fun.  You spend most of the day café hopping, using your powers of observation to come up with theories regarding the other patrons

It becomes a competition to come up with the most ridiculous theory, but still be able to back it up with ‘conclusive’ evidence

Seven is really, really good at this, and it’s so much fun you join in

“I think that lady is lying to her friend. Her left nostril twitches every 2.8 seconds, and also the wart on her chin looks rather untrustworthy.”

“Hm, yes that is true. And according to today’s alignment of the sun and the stars, plus the presence of a dusty pickle on the floor, I can say with 100% certainty that your theory is correct.”

Being with Seven is just so much fun hnnng

 ᔕᗩEᖇᗩᑎ:

Ok but tbh if MC was the world’s greatest detective, Saeran would be screwed from square one

Like MC would probably figure out that he was already at the apartment, and lure him out of his hiding spot by choosing those “there is no number pad” options all the time

You know that “bad” ending you can get without even entering the chat-room where Unknown drags your ass away to become his assistant

Kind of off topic but I never really understood why MC would just go along quietly with him I mean yeah he’s hot but like? instead just drag his ass into the apartment and have some sexy time if ya catch my drift

Being a detective means you are very knowledgeable in many skills, and self-defense/fighting is one of them

So basically you tackle him, and decide that going inside the apartment would be more suitable for an interrogation and some other stuff

But of course you still end up entering the chat-room, and it takes a while to explain everything to everyone

It’s not long before Mint Eye goes down, the twins are reunited, Rika is shipped off to Alaska to live in a snake’s natural habitat the wild 

Everyone is confused, and kind of amazed

They decide to let you enter the RFA regardless, since you seem really cool and you helped them so much

When Saeran calms down a bit, he realizes how lucky he was to have chosen you as bait

Feels forever grateful for your interference, and feels calm when he sits beside you while you quietly solve you cases, thoroughly enjoys watching you work

He’s also really happy when you ask for his input regarding a case, and he’ll gladly help you in any way he can

It’s therapeutic for him

Let the bean be a detective too

 ᐯᗩᑎᗪEᖇᗯOOᗪ:

Thinks you being the world’s greatest detective means that you’re another Seven

No it just means we have different ways of acquiring our information

This guy

He’s actually so fucking impressed by your skills

But is he ever going to admit it?

Hell to the no

At least not to your face 

He will however go on a Vanderwood Rant and tell others about how talented you are, how amazing your mind is, and just overall how cool his partner is

Seven uses this to his advantage

If Vanderwood is ever using his Grasp of the Maid on Saeyoung, who wishes to escape, he’ll jokingly say something along the lines of “But in all honesty, I don’t think MC is that talented.”

Hoooooooh  bo i

Vanderwood will literally go on for hours without realizing it unless you physically shut his mouth for him

Cue Seven using Quick Escape

Never tarnish MC’s good name in front of Vanderwood, unless you have about half a day to spare

 ᐯ:

Thanks to you Rika is now undergoing mental rehabilitation

Feels indebted to you forever

V I did it for you not for Rika

Is constantly worried about your safety, since a lot of criminal organizations are after your head

You assure you that you’re safe as long as nobody in the RFA spills your secret, but this mom boy doesn’t stop fretting

So you convince him to get the eye surgery, saying how if he could see, he would be able to keep you safe

And how he could also help you collect evidence and stuff for your job (but really it’s just for his sake, the poor boy doesn’t deserve any more suffering)

He gets it done and just never leaves your side

But his presence isn’t obnoxious or anything, he never gets in your way, he just kind of goes to screen saver mode until you move or need his help

You’re sitting, working, and want some tea? Home boy is gonna read your mind 

There’s a cup of tea in your hand before you can even breathe

Though his presence is soothing, like listening to raindrops against the roof, or the quiet chatter you hear in a coffee shop

But don’t expect him to be a big help when you ask for his advice in a case, his soul is too gentle to talk about suspects and crimes

Also he was basically involved in an illegal religious cult like five minutes ago I’m pretty sure if you bring up crimes he’s going to want to turn himself in

[bloodbaptisedarchive-blog]

REALLY  LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY. RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog !    tag 10 ! good  luck !       TAGGED. @judgmentcast​, holy SHIT.       TAGGING. literally ANYONE who’s up for a bit of a challenge.

BASICS.  FULL  NAME :  Harmon Mallory James.  NICKNAME :  James, Mr. James, Senior Advisor Harmon James.  AGE : Forty-two.  BIRTHDAY :   October 17th, 1998.  ETHNIC  GROUP : Caucasian.  NATIONALITY :  American.  LANGUAGE / S : English.  SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :   Homosexual.            ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Homoromantic.  RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :  In a secret, long-term relationship with Minister Edwidge Owens.  CLASS : Upper class.  HOME  TOWN / AREA :   He was born in Boston, Massachusetts.  CURRENT  HOME : Washington, DC.  PROFESSION : Senior Advisor to the Leader of the New Founding Fathers.

PHYSICAL.  HAIR : Red. Much lighter when he was younger. Wavy.  EYES : Bright blue, sunken.  NOSE : Long with a slight downward hook.  FACE :  Defined smile lines, and other various lines and freckles.  LIPS :   Thin, small, and chapped.  COMPLEXION :  Pale, sickly, with light freckles peppered along his face.  BLEMISHES :  Nothing noticeable.  SCARS : A few on his face, a couple from various other incidents. Burn scars on his hands.  TATTOOS : None.  HEIGHT : 6'6".  WEIGHT : 185 lbs.  BUILD :    Slender, defined muscles in his arms, chest and legs. Sharp shoulders.  FEATURES :  Wide, sunken eyes. Large, gentle hands, folded at his chest. Painted fingernails. Intimidating stature.  ALLERGIES :  N/A.  USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  Straightens his waves and slicks the whole thing back, parting it to the left.  USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  Expressionless. Ivory makeup still shows the freckles on his face. Though expressionless, he always tends to look alert, on his guard.   USUAL  CLOTHING : A suit, including a vest, ironed to crispness the day before. Suitable colours are grey, black, or beige. Ties, usually blue or red. A silver cross around his neck. Edwidge's promise ring on his middle left finger. Nails painted usually nude shades. Black or brown shoes shined until you can see your face in them.

PSYCHOLOGY.

 FEAR / S :  Fear of imperfection. A slight fear of disappointment. Fear of being outed.  ASPIRATION / S : To purge and purify: to rid the country of those that depend on them, them being the NFFA, the government, the healthcare system, housing, welfare. To make his superiors see that he can one day be as good as any of them. To lead the New Founding Fathers of America.  POSITIVE  TRAITS : Loyal, peaceful, spiritual, efficent, disciplined, aware, calm, intelligent, self-confident.  NEGATIVE  TRAITS :  Hypocritical, overzealous, judgemental, blindly obidient, sadistic, insensitive, remorseless, blunt, withdrawn.  MBTI : ISTJ, the Logistician.  ZODIAC :  Libra.  TEMPERAMENT :  Melancholic.  SOUL  TYPE / S :  Thinker.  ANIMALS :  A wide-eyed owl, constantly observing.  VICE  HABIT / S :   Vanity, a bit more concern about his appearance than most men his age. Overly critical of those in a lower position than him, even though he was once one of them.    FAITH : What the NFFA deems to be Christian.  GHOSTS ? : Yes.  AFTERLIFE ? : Absolutely. He needs to go home sometime.  REINCARNATION ? :  Possibly.  ALIENS ? : No.  POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  Right-wing.  ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :  He has more than he knows what to do with.  SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : One of the 1%.  EDUCATION  LEVEL : University.

FAMILY.  FATHER :   Richard Allen James, the chief communications officer of ARCON and the first press secretary of the New Founding Fathers. Deceased.  MOTHER :  Caroline Ann James, a talented pianist and violinist, with dreams of playing with a famous orchestra. Still living.  SIBLINGS : Seven. Sarah, Mary, Caleb, Lucas, Joanna, Michael & Hannah. Harmon is sixth.  EXTENDED  FAMILY : Aunts, uncles, several cousins, and a total of twenty-seven nieces & nephews.  NAME  MEANING / S : Harmon, "man of the army." Mallory, "ill fated."  HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :   Unknown. There is a place named Harmon mentioned in the Bible, but this place name is debatable. It's been thought of that Harmon James is a pun on "harming James," James being a leader of the early Church.

FAVOURITES.  BOOK :  Other than the Bible, specifically the Old Testament, he enjoys a good true crime novel now and again. Also, political biographies.  MOVIE : Dramas, documentaries and psychological thrillers.  5  SONGS :  (these remind me of him, not his own favourites.) The Sisters of Mercy - Driven Like The Snow. Frank Tovey - New Jerusalem. Cloudeater - Hollow. Fad Gadget - Under The Flag II. Nathan Whitehead - The Sacrifice.  DEITY :  A God who encourages a yearly slaughter of His creation.  HOLIDAY :    That blessed night, the one night the country does their bidding.  MONTH :  March.  SEASON :  Winter.  PLACE :  His home, Our Lady of Sorrows, or the NFFA's headquarters.  WEATHER :  Cloudy, foggy; a brisk morning that beckons snowfall.  SOUND : The echo of footsteps walking across a marble floor. A choir of unintelligeble words. Wind whistling through telephone wires. Silence. The scream of a man, strapped down, a knife plunging into his heart. A siren.  SCENT / S :  The smoke from an extinguished flame. Stale. Eau de cologne. Hair gel.  TASTE / S :  Blood. Luxurious foods. Tea. Ice.    FEEL / S :  A shiver running down your spine. The touch of a hand when no one's around. The feeling someone's watching you when you're alone. Blood on your lips. A cold wind. Emptiness.  ANIMAL / S : An owl seems to be the only thing I think of. Maybe an eagle. Harmon seems like a bird.  NUMBER : Six. He's the sixth in his family, he stands at six feet and six inches tall...  COLOUR : Blue, to show his loyalty to the NFFA. Red, the colour staining his hands. White, for the supposed purity of his soul.

EXTRA.  TALENTS :  His intelligence. His written communication skills. Most of his oral communication skills, his stutter stands in his way. Good with weapons. His knowledge of the human anatomy. He's fairly good at ice skating. Singing.  BAD  AT : Having a social life. Drawing. Being an enjoyable person. Smiling.  TURN  ONS :  Men in positions of power. Voices that draw you in. Strong hands. Blood. Twisting a knife inside of a martyr.  TURN  OFFS :   Anyone lower than his class.  HOBBIES :    Choir. Anything that involves assisting the NFFA.  TROPES :   Badass Long Robe. Dissonant Serenity. Giggling Villain.  AESTHETIC  TAGS :  Blurry images. Graveyards. Blood covering hands, covering the Cross. Knives. Pale, trembling hands. Waves of blue.  GPOY  QUOTES :  "You are never here. You are always almost there."

FC INFO.  MAIN  FC / S :  Christopher James Baker.  ALT  FC / S : Mark Strickson (possibly.)  OLDER  FC / S :   Not sure, but Robert Redford currently is a possibility.  YOUNGER  FC / S : Freddie Fox.  VOICE  CLAIM / S : CJB in "True Detective."  GENDERBENT  FC / S :  Lisa Pelikan.

MUN QUESTIONS.  Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?            A1 : He has a movie, but he's not the focal point. He has his big moments though! I'd like to see more of Harmon in The Purge 4, since that will be more focused around the NFFA. The story of how a man becomes the way he is today, desensitised to death, wanting destruction, yearning for violence. What made him be this way? What would it be called? No idea.  Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?            A2 :  Ambient. Echoes where none of the words can be understood. A soft organ playing in the background. Suddenly, the music becomes a bit more intense...  Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?            A3 :  I watched The Purge: Election Year, and immediately fell in love with him. I knew I had to do something, and this is what I chose to do.  Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?            A4: June 30th, 2016. Around 9:00pm. I'm sitting front and centre watching the newest Purge film, a sequel in a franchise I've loved for three years. Charlie Roan is delivered to Our Lady of Sorrows. All of a sudden, this tall, thin, creepy fucker in a long blue robe makes his debut. Just the kind of character I love. I walked home that night, wrote "Harmon James can own my ass, what the fuck" into my phone, and knew this was the beginning of something beautiful.  Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.            A5 : He's everything I hate in a person. He dislikes everyone who isn't like him. He's almost every -phobic or -ist in the damn book.  Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?            A6 : We have blue eyes, and we laugh similarly. That's it.  Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?            A7 : Harmon James would want me sacrificed.  Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?    A8 :  Edwidge Owens. Thomas Roseland. Caleb Warrens. Harlan Coy. Claude Frollo. Richard Miller. Curtis Stafford. Leo Barnes. Charlie Roan. Ambrosia Reynolds. If I could ever actually get to plotting with other people, them as well.  Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?          A9 :  Watching Harmon's scenes! Listening to songs that remind me of him, like the Election Year soundtrack. Scrolling through the archive on his aesthetic blog. Being outside in the cold.  Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?            A10 : I forgot about this for a good month. So a long time. Thanks, Ocelot. xo

[youwontcatchmealive]

The Fitnessgram Pacer Test™

jksdgjhsgfhjsdhgf\sj so i rly just wanna get this off my fuckin system but i can’t put it all on my twitter bc 140 characters limitation and yeah, i rly just have to let this out, idc i feel like this is an emotional fart i’ve been holding in for too long, so

these are some of my thoughts abt Supergirl, the show not the character, not only on 209 but Supergirl in general (tho it’s mostly abt 209)

i’VE MISSED SUPERGIRL SM i’d be lying if i say i didn’t

tho i never got too stoked for the next episodes bc i know there’s gonna be lots of scenes with mon hell with it

speaking of mon hell

who tf wrote his characterization and storyline

why does he act like that, being so quirky for what, for humorous purposes? ain’t nothing funny about whatever he does, he literally contributes nothing, everything he does is either boring or annoying i jUST

(i love chris wood tho, i’ve nothing but respect for him, he’s a great person)

it’s just mon hell is a very annoying and overrated character at this point

when he first arrived he was in a fucking coma (he should’ve stayed that way) and the first thing he did when he woke up was to choke Kara and give her a hard time in the next episodes by being such a pain in the ass to her

(all of these while the message the show wants to give is that mon hell is just misunderstood, he’s trying so hard to fit in, his attempts at fitting in is supposed to be funny) (it’s not, it’s annoying)

and now we’ve seen his actions (read: disastrous bs) in 209; he started working at the bar (where m’gann used to work, honestly where the fuck is m’gann, just give her like 10 minutes of screentime locked up that’d be better than mon hell doing stuff) like hOW TF DID HE EVEN LAND THE JOB HOW TF DID HE BECOME A BARTENDER WHEN HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK A CLUB SODA IS?/ ???? SERIOUSLY WHAT TO H*CK

he follows Kara around like an annoying puppy (he’s not a puppy, it’s just for emphasis) he doesn’t even listen to Kara and he thinks that Kara can’t do anything without him when the reason they got trapped together to another planet was bc he didn’t listen to Kara

he bosses Kara around, like dude pipe tf down, Kara’s been around saving the world for Rao knows how long, who tf are u again?? ????

hE’S SO FUCKING USELESS

exhibit a: he followed Kara to another planet in hopes of saving her, in the end he couldn’t do a thing bc of the red sun

exhibit b:hE GOT HIS GOT DAMN FEET CAUGHT IN SOME TRAP SERIOUSLY HOW FUCKING USELESS CAN U GET I AM APPALLED

exhibit c: he keeps on telling Kara to just escape and leave the kidnapped people behind since he and Kara can’t do anything and when the aliens electrocuted Kara hE JUST FUCKING WATCHED THERE LIKE “YOU’RE DOING GREAT HONEY” FUCKING H*CK MON HELL YOU NEVER FAIL TO DISAPPOINT

(like at this point i’m laughing everytime he’s onscreen not bc of his “funny antics” but bc he’s so fucking stupid)

exhibit d: in the end, it was Kara who saved the day, with the help of Izzy and the DEO agents, he just kind of went along with Kara’s plans since all he ever thinks of is himself

and now he wants to be a fucking hero, like Izzy is a much better hero than he is, even James who has his own flaws and has no superpowers is doing what he can in his own way to save people

literally everyone on the show is a hero in their own way, except for mon hell. he’s just strong, nothing more. he doesn’t even have the heart of a hero, he’s so selfish and i’m pretty sure he just wants to be a hero to impress Kara, to prove that he’s “good enough” for her oh pls i’ve read way too many heterosexual YA novels with the same exact plot i’m tiredt

(bet he just said he wants to be a hero so he could spend more time with Kara euhughguhgughghgh)

(apparently i hate mon hell too much)

(moving on)

i was relieved that Kara was in a funk bc she thinks stopping jewelry heist is such a mundane thing, and not bc of what happened between her and mon hell last episode

Kara being so happy for Alex is so pure (´༎ຶ ͜ʖ ༎ຶ `)♡ like all her life Alex has watched out for Kara, and i know Kara wants the best for Alex, she wants what’s best for her sister but she knows she can’t do it alone, add the fact that she’s Supergirl, she’s got so much things in her hands, and now that there’s another person who actually makes Alex happy, she’s happy as well

i love the Danvers sisters relationship so much

i mean Kara’s even giddy when Alex told her Maggie slept over in her apartment, theY’RE JUST SO PURE? /? ??? I LO V E

sanvers saved 209 for me

srsly that domestic shit omggggggggggg

that sanvers scene in the kitchen is lit straight outta fanfic don’t fight me on this

also it really reminds me of the music video for Accidentally In Love hAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

and i’m glad they somehow worked things out in the end, Alex is so fragile she needs lots of Maggie hugs

shoutout to detective Maggie Sawyer for actually detecting that Kara is Supergirl

she smart as h*ck

i’m so proud of Winn omg, he has overcome his fear and self doubt, like he always thinks he’s so weak, that he can only help thru his IT skills but thanks to Alex, he’s finally seen his own worth

Winn Schott is the Armin Arlert of Supergirl (Alex is Mikasa to him oh my gdo i’m so sorry this is a terrible comparison @snk i’m over you bihh)

i’m so sad that James, Winn, and Kara’s friendship is down to 2 now, since James is keeping his Guardian identity to Kara and Kara has been busy abt other things

i miss the times when the three of them would save the day together =(((( their friendship was so pure, i wish i’d see more of their trio in the next episodes

James is my hot chocolate son

i’m kinda ‘uuuuhhhhh’ to him this season bc he feels so unsatisfied with himself (i blame the karolsen breakup [the writers’ fault, not that characters’]) he doesn’t feel happy with the position Cat gave him, the position that Cat has worked so hard to achieve, and even tho i’m so proud of him for being the Guardian it still won’t do justice since he still has minimal screentime

like there goes James saving the day, and they focus on mon hell being a big baby fratboy i’m *clenches fist*

James seems like a completely different person this season, and i’m not quite fine with it

but i still love him, he’s a pure man

Izzy inspired Kara so much <33333 and vice versa, but omg i love her sm, she definitely helped Kara at some point

i fucking hate Snapper man, i fucking hate his bald head and his permanent frown and the way he acts so grumpy like Cat and he ain’t even shit

tho i’m glad that he’s finally coming around to Kara, i still hate him

also

wHERE IS MY DAUGHTER LENA

HAVE YOU SEEN LENA

THEY MIGHT AS WELL CHANGE THE SHOW’S TITLE TO FINDING LENA

I’M SO SALTY ABT THIS LIKE

the way she and Kara ended things is so tragic

they never really talked after Lena pulled a huge ‘sike’ to Lillian

and now they completely forgot about her in 209

like i only saw her during Kara’s monologue in the beginning aND DAS NOT ENOUGH =(((( I WANT MY DAUGHTER BACK WHERE IS SHE

she basically just saved the entire alien population in National City and no one remembered it?/ ?????

not to mention that Kara was right that Lillian is behind project Cadmus and Lena doubted her to the point that she drove Kara away but she didn’t let her feelings for Kara (read: broken friendship) get between her decision to do the right thing

and all her life Lillian was so cold around her and Lillian tried to give her a chance to prove her worth by killing the aliens, bUT NO, LENA CHOSE THE RIGHT THING, LENA SAVED EVERYONE, LENA IS A HERO, I’M ON THE VERGE OF SOBBING BC NO ONE DESERVES HER AT THIS POINT, MY DAUGHTER LENA HAS BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH EMOTIONAL TURMOIL BUT SHE’S STILL SO PURE IN HEART I’M SO FUCKIG

(why did i use an eat bulaga pic HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA VEA R U SEEING THIS)

and the project Cadmus arc was such an important arc, like most of the previous episodes revolved around Cadmus, why end it abruptly? ? ?? no explanation at all? ????

we don’t even know what Lillian is doing at this point, what my daughter Lena is doing at this point

(i know i’m bitching too early since we’re only 9 episodes thru the season and i know we’ll see more of them again in the upcoming episodes but the way they treated the whole arc like nothing happened i just *clenches fist again*)

i know Lena is a minor character, car of melt stans actually attacked me with that argument when i complained why i see less of Lena and more of mon hell but lesbi honest, Lena has actually contributed more to the show than mon hell did

Lena: inspired Kara to be a reporter, trusts Kara so much, trusts Supergirl so much as well, (included potstickers as the main course in her gala so Kara can stuff her face with them) felt bad abt Kara when she thought Kara stereotyped her for being a Luthor but it didn’t stop her from saving the aliens and turning back on her mom, has a good heart and never gives up despite the people stereotyping her for being a Luthor

mon: el

jk

mon hell: kicked Kara around, annoyed Kara, tries so hard but still falls way too short, takes too much screentime with his annoying antics, kissed Kara when he was fucking dying and not remember a single thing when he woke up, etc

Lena has did way too fucking many in her little screentime i’m so proud of her

i want Lena where tf is she

where is M’gann, pls give her lots of screentime as well

aND WHERE TF IS LUCY AND AGENT VASQUEZ, WHY DID THEY DISAPPEAR ALL OF A SUDDEN

i mean i understand Cat has her reasons why she left, bUT LUCY FUCKIGN HELL

SHE JUST GOT A POSITION IN THE DEO AND NOW WHERE TF IS SHE BIIIIIITCHHHH

like i spent my time hating on her while bing watching s1 bc she was so mean to Kara bUT SHE CAME AROUND MAN, SHE AND KARA ARE FINALLY FRIENDS, AND NOW SHE’S GONE FOR REASONS WE’LL NEVER KNOW

does anyone even remember Cat Grant at this point

Supergirl will never be Supergirl if not for Cat, i’m kinda salty no one ever talks about her anymore

she was such a vital character to the show, i miss her, i miss how she dragged men with her fire one-liners, i missed how she acted so cold and bossy when deep inside she actually has a heart of gold, i miss how she inspired Kara so much, i fucking miss her man =(((

i can’t believe they sacrificed the badass women in the show in exchange for a soggy piece of bread

((mon hell wants a superhero name, just name him soggy, at least he can wear the S crest on his chest as well, with a totally different meaning hAHAHAH))

bring Cat Grant back. bring Lucy back. bring agent Vasquez back.

give Lena and M’gann the proper screentime they deserve

s1 was wayyyyyyyyy better than s2 (tho i love Lena and sanvers so much, it’s the truth)

why is the cw butchering the show

ok i’m sorry i’ve complained a lot but yeah this was a huge, long, stinky fart and i’ve let it out, i’m so relieved

anyway das all, i’m so glad i farted this out, imma go to sleep now, deuces

p.s. Melissa has been so active lately i’m so fucking curedt, you go Mel-Mel, a hero in TV and in real life oh myg do i love you sm