#sometimes it makes sense when its so gus can show off a little

[he-wrote-that-one-song]

I need need need people to remember that Shawn is fucking smart, like super fucking smart! most of the time he's being silly goofy is just for the hell of it! he's not actually incompetent at half the things that come across that way!!! he's a goofball and bisexual and can be very stupid sometimes but he's also super smart

[mushroominawaterbottle]

Pookies beloveds do you jnow that cats the musical is the best thing ever created and all the songs are so good and the entire point of the musical is that they are a community and despite it being really weird and having a cat orgy it also has amazing set design, even if it all just happens in the same place and in that one scene when Alonzo kicks a ball and it hits Mr Mistoffeles it was actually an accident and he was meant to catch it and in the 2015 brazilian adaptation in Rio de Janeiro, Rum Tum Tugger holds Mr Mistoffeles' jacket for him so he can dance and also the guy who plays him does a little voice crack while singing and sometimes i repeat it to stim and also do you know that the guy who plays Old Deuteronomy voices that one guy in the Nightmare before Christmas and i headcannon that Victoria is deaf because she is a white cat with blue eyes and its really common for them to be deaf and also i dressed up as Mr Mistoffeles to go to school when i was like 14 and also i think that the 2019 version was really bad not only because of the cgi but because they fundamentally misunderstood the enture story because it makes absolutely no sense that Victoria is the protagonist, the whole point of the thing is that there is no protagonist and that all of them have i am songs instead of i want songs and also the decision to remove Jemima and Demeter and Cassandra and Jellilorum and Etcetera and Electra and leaving only Bombalurina was a horrible idea and making her evil is just fucking up her character, she just think that Macavity is hot she doenst agree with him and also having him sing his own song was so fucking stupid and he was there all the time wich makes no sense because they say in the song that tahy can never find Macavity and he is a ginger cat so why the fuck is he brown, the only person who did a good job was the guy who played Skimbleshanks and thats because he is a trained dancer and not a random celebrity, also they made fun of Bustoffer Jones wich is stupid because in the musical all the cats respect him because he eats everyday and having all the cats singing their own songs was horrible, it took away all of the meaning of all of them being a group, also them making Mr Mistoffeles sing and be all shy was the worts thing ever, Rum Tum Tugger singing his song was to show that he cared about him and trusted him to bring Old Deuteronomy back safely and also he decends from the sky in a sparkling jacket and shoots lightning from his hands, that was a discervice to his characther and dont even talk aboyt beautiful ghosts because this song took away the entire meaning off memory, Grizabella wants to go back to the past so bad that she is willing to do anything for it wich is why she is the chosen for the Jellicle choice and gets to be reborn , the important thing wasnt that it was Victoria who held her hand, the important thing was that no one stopped her, meaning that she had been accepted back in, wich is why in the movie her charactherisation is shit because she would never back away from touch, touch is all she wants, touch means that she is loved and is part of the Jellicles. Also there is way too little dance in the movie. Cats is a ballet. You cant take this out of it. What the fuck do you mean the Mr Mistoffeles song is 1 minute long and he doenst even dance. Where are the piruettes you cunt. Also all the male cats having crushes on Victoria is incredibly out of characther. And they took away my girl Demeter. She had fucking PTSD and it made the viewer understand how evil Macavity trully was and also she sang beautifully and erasing her interactions with Munkustrap was a crime. They fucking had Gus sing his own song instead of Jellilorum wich is stupid because it showed that they cared about him even when he is too old to dance. And Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser didnt even had their dance routine.

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

hiiii really enjoyed your chenglingposting i was thinking about how sometimes the kids in adult stories function as a sort of barometer for optimism about the future in their views and options in life... obviously the alliance wants to continue the cycle of antagonizing and vengeance and conflict with the veneer of "honor" but. zcl gets to choose not to. its been a while since I either read or watched, do you know if zcl was ever onboard with actually wanting vengeance or if that was just being pushed on him? Obv its not super in line w his personality but grief could be a factor. i just thought it'd make a lot of sense if he changed his mind on that due to the influence of wenzhou and how they prioritize enjoying life w your people and following your own path over expectations. priest really took one more chance to emphasize breaking cycles/"if it sucks hit the bricks"

hi!! omg!!! thank you and im glad you enjoyed it! honestly this is a question i have been thinking about since at least two rereads ago. the show and the novel are handling this issue of zcl picking up his legacy / giving in to external expectations / finding out what he really wants in life a little differently, i think, as befitting of what they both focus on. ive said in my chenglingpost that the show is about legacy and inheritance in my eyes, while the novel is about martial arts and freedom of choice. obvs freedom of choice is a high priority in word of honor as well, but word of honor seems to have an overarching look, kind of focusing on the big picture and what a generation / a community needs rather than a few individuals, while the novel focuses exclusively on wenzhou and their little group and seems to handle the rest of the themes in priest's usual style. the show is about something "grand", the novel is about the mundane, almost boring human experience. martial arts play a bigger role in the latter too because they are a stand-in for many things that are hard to grasp, like autonomy. in chengling's context, martial arts are irrevocably linked with seeking revenge. i think that is specifically in the novel the case, not so much in the show. in the show seeking revenge is pushed onto him by others as well as inheriting his sect's legacy and becoming worthy of being his father's son. in the novel, the idea of seeking revenge is first presented to him by gu xiang, and it is actually this huge contrast to how others treat him because others "generously" offer to take revenge for him, while gu xiang tells him he can do that himself. we see with wen kexing that getting revenge does not make u happy. it gives u closure but it does not make u happy. i think that is something chengling learns during the novel. he gets closure in the end but it does not look the way he had imagined it would. i think he imagined himself to get super strong and then single-handedly slay his foes. yknow, as u often see in wuxia and as wen kexing literally does. then he starts learning martial arts and realizes getting super strong is actually not that easy, and this chasm between what he expects of himself and what he is able to achieve gets wider and wider and he falls into depression spirals, because to chengling, seeking revenge was taking ownership of his life and his trauma, and what use does he have when he cant even do that? that is the path wen kexing walks and it hollowed him out and it would have him kill himself if he hadnt met zhou zishu; wen kexing viewed himself as an instrument for a very long time rather than as someone deserving of having his own life. so obvs, that path is rubbish by itself (wkx gets his revenge and his closure and his life, good for him!) and its far too much for a kid. and i think, that is what chengling learns here: he only needs to do as much as he can, only bite off what he can chew, and the rest should not be his concern. and there really turns out to be a way to get everything he needs without walking the same path as wen kexing, as the novel proves, because wen kexing had nobody when he was in the same situation while trying to survive the valley, while chengling has wenzhou who guide him and shield him and love him. (crying myself into a huddle over wen kexing and chengling and them being foils of each other.) so in that sense youre already putting it into words. chengling seems to have changed his mind over the course of the novel, he doesnt have that same outlook on vengeance as he as in the start. i think thats different for the show. in the show, there is this weighing of the concept of revenge against the concept of getting justice, and what both these things do and require of a person and what they can offer u as an individual, but also u as a collective, in the long run. they are seen as two different things and are explored and qestioned individually. i think that can be seen in the conflict with chengling and all these expectations everyone has of him and how he handles that.

[sepublic]

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

         …

         SO! Onto other things first…

         WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

         Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

         AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

         She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

         Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

         JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

         No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

         King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

         A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

         Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

         Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

         Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

         I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

         What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

         They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

         (Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

         Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

         I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

         You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

         Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

         Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

         BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

         This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

         What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

         Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

         And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

         Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

         WHAT AN EPISODE!

[snackhobi]

pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 20.9k / genre: street racer au, driftracer!jimin, driftracer!reader, rivals to lovers, smut, some fluff too

summary: You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.

warnings: unsafe driving (street races are technically illegal), cursing, sexually explicit content, fingering, slight orgasm delay, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cum eating, unprotected sex, car sex (duh), creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk I think that’s everything

EDIT: part two now available!

--

It’s hot tonight.

Humid, too. Your hair has been pulled into a messy updo and your makeup is fierce, as always, and despite the mugginess in the air, you’re still wearing your usual leather jacket even though you can feel how the inside lining is sticking to your skin. You have appearances to maintain and the pastel pink jacket is part of your signature look, even in the heat of summer.

“Busy tonight,” Taehyung comments idly as he leans against the side of your car, and you hum in response.

“Good turn out.” You slam the bright red hood of your baby shut, finally satisfied. “Get off, please.”

Taehyung pouts as he does what he’s told, and pouts even harder when you end up reclining against the hood of the car, leaning your weight into your palms. Jungkook snickers at him from where he’s squatted to shut the toolbox and you laugh when Taehyung swings a halfhearted kick at the younger boy which is effortlessly parried.

The mountain road in Seongdong-gu is crowded. It’s rammed full of fans, throngs of men and women swarming the start of tonight’s route, mingling with each other and ogling the cars and their racers. Most people give you a wide berth, though; by now they’ve learned to stay away from your Pontiac, even if the flame-bright 2007 Solstice GXP is eye-catching in its rarity. Most racers don’t take kindly to random strangers touching their vehicles anyway. Jungkook and Taehyung are the only people who can touch your Solstice without you ripping them to shreds, your childhood friends working alongside you to make sure the engine is in full working order for the rigorous pacing you’re about to put it through.

Sometimes, though, other racers come over to try and flirt with you, usually people new to Seoul, unfamiliar with the circuit. You’ll giggle and simper under their gazes, acting like the ditz that they think you are, coquettish flirting that they don’t realise is a front. You know that a female drift racer is an oddity, and you are especially so with your American sports car standing out amongst a collection of souped up Nissans and Toyotas— you know they think you’re here for fun. That you’re in over your head.

You always make sure to prove them wrong.

“Heads up,” Jungkook mutters. You glance up to see where he’s looking, the lingering smile of your laughter immediately smoothing out when you spot who it is, face going neutral as you sit up.

Park Jimin looks beautiful tonight. He always does, though; plump lips, soft face, eyes darkened with shimmer, the blond of his styled hair contrasting with the dark roots of his undercut. Arresting and stunning. And, just like you, an oddity on these tracks. He knows how good he looks and leans into that beauty, and you know that the other men on this circuit used to underestimate him because of it, too. Just like they had with you and the overtly feminine colours of your outfits. A masquerade.

“Jimin.” You greet him coolly.

“Y/n,” he responds, as cordial as always. He tilts his head, the chains in his earrings swinging with the motion. “You’re looking well today.” When you don’t respond, he continues: “I came over to wish you good luck for the race.”

“I don’t need luck, but thank you.”

Jimin seems amused, smiling a little at your statement. You keep your eyes locked on his, refusing to let your gaze fall down to his lips. You never let yourself be caught off guard around him. 

You remember when he’d first started here, slipping into the pack of racers without any of them taking notice, a quiet, beautiful man surrounded by larger, louder men, his Skyline GTR just one car amongst many— but from the second you’d laid eyes on him, you’d known he was a force to be reckoned with. You could read it in every line of his stance, the way he moved, and how he had introduced himself to you: politely and civilly. No preening and strutting around, no sly attempts to look down your shirt, no ham-handed attempts at negging you.

Isn’t it sad that the second someone around here treats you like an equal, you have to be on guard?

“Good luck to you,” you say. Jimin laughs outright at this, the implication that you don’t need luck but he does; he seems genuinely amused rather than offended. He’s beautiful when he laughs, eyes squeezing shut into crescents, the apples of his cheeks defined with how his lips curve upwards, and honestly, it’s almost overwhelming— how he instantly turns so boyish, rather than remaining like some sort of distant, ethereal angel of beauty. 

For all that you consider Jimin a threat and your biggest rival— in your opinion your win records are starting to look too even— you don’t actually dislike him. It’s just wariness on your part, tempered with respect, though you have no idea what Jimin really thinks about you.

“Thank you.”

He leaves after giving you one, last lingering look, expression unreadable, returning to his black Nissan and his group that surround it. Jimin says something to Min Yoongi, who smiles so widely that you can see his gums. Taehyung muffles a small sigh of longing.

“The sexual tension between you two couldn’t be more obvious,” Jungkook says. For a second you think he’s talking about Taehyung and Yoongi, even if Yoongi isn’t looking in this direction, but then you realise Jungkook is talking about you. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Have you forgotten that I’m in a relationship, Kook?”

“You can still have sexual tension with someone.” Jungkook shrugs, unbothered. “If you keep eyefucking each other like that I’m going to have to request that you start wearing protection, otherwise someone’s going to get pregnant.”

“Glasses are just eyeball condoms,” Taehyung says, and then both boys crack up.

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Despite the tone of your voice a smile twists up the corners of your lips. 

The only other driver who comes up to greet you is Hoseok. You genuinely like Hoseok, waving at him when he approaches and tipping your head back in laughter when he jokes with you; you’ve known him for long enough to have learned that he’s not actually sleazy, so when he says something flirtatious you play up to it and bat your eyelashes at him before the two of you end up giggling at each other. When he leaves he winks at you and you blow him a small kiss, which makes him clutch his heart as he staggers back and you laugh again. 

Your smile still lingers after your laughter has faded, and you’re still smiling when you happen to make eye contact with Jimin, who’s looking over at you—the second your eyes lock he’s wrenching his gaze away, and even from this distance you can’t help but notice the hard set to his lips. Strange.

When you finally pull up to the start line, all semblance of laughter and levity has gone from your face. The course tonight isn’t entirely simple— the forested hills in the centre of Seoul are popular for good reason, usually deserted at night, the loops of the mountainous roads letting the racers show off exactly how good they are. The start line is just before a horseshoe curve, an arcing bend that’ll immediately set you at a disadvantage if you fuck up, but you’re not worried. You haven’t driven this particular route in Seongdong-gu in a race, the winding snake of a road falling down the mountainside in front of you, but you’ve driven similar routes plenty of times and all your practices have gone well. You feel confident.

Your baby purrs underneath and around you. The sound of the engine is one that’s as familiar to you as your own breathing, the feeling of the steering wheel under your hands entirely comfortable. You’re aware of every one of her parts, having rebuilt and tweaked her yourself, replacing the drop top, modifying her into the perfect drifting machine, and you’ve grown with her; you don’t like to wax lyrical but this car is an extension of yourself and you know her inside and out. Even if Jungkook and Taehyung are your friends and fellow co-owners of the garage, and help you check her over before each race, you’re the one who built her and maintains her.

Along the line other cars roll into place, flanking you. There’re familiar faces— Jimin and Hoseok, of course, but also Kim Namjoon, as well as the other usual people that Seokjin makes sure to invite to his meets, plus a few newcomers that you don’t recognise. The sound of your engines drown out the noises from the crowd, as loud as they are, milling around and holding their phones up to film the start of the race; the usual busy chaos. A flagger appears, a gorgeous girl in revealing clothes who soaks up the wolf whistles from the crowd as she saunters onto the track. You see how she flicks a wink at Namjoon, who grins back at her with bared teeth as she gets ready to motion with the checkered flag in her hands.

One of your hands tightens on the wheel. The other grips the gearstick, hard. The second the flag drops, you’re leaping forwards from the start line, Pontiac’s engine roaring as she responds eagerly to your commands. You round the first bend with ease, flicking your car into a smooth turn that sends dust flying from your tyres; in your mirrors you catch glimpses of the other drivers doing the same, and even if you weren’t familiar with the newbies and the regulars you’d be able to tell who was who from this one moment. A few struggle to complete the bend— one even goes into a tailspin, though fortunately he just stalls on the road instead of plummeting off it— and you and your competitors leave them in the dust as you approach the next turn.

Namjoon is next to you while Jimin is in front. The glint of your headlights off the sleek black paintwork of your rival's car seems almost like it’s taunting you. You grit your teeth and approach the next turn faster, harder, shaving off precious seconds by arcing your car more tightly after you’ve popped your handbrake, edging ahead of Namjoon and pulling closer to Jimin. You want to win, of course, but more than that, you have to beat him— you need another tally against your name.

The adrenaline is running high in your blood, rushing through your veins, spiking each time you squeal into another curve of road; where Jimin was initially ahead of you, you’re now almost level, approaching the last turn of the track. You suck in a lungful of air and lean your body into the weight of your car, throttling her to get more of an angle in the restricted hairpin turn, familiar and confident enough in your Solstice to know exactly how to steer her so you don’t lose control. 

It’s perfect. Jimin curves out more widely and takes longer to straighten up and by this point you’ve slammed down on the accelerator for the final, straight part of the road; you scream over the finish line first to the roar of the awaiting crowd and the wide grins of your teammates, Jungkook and Taehyung elated at your win.

It doesn’t take long for the other racers to finish after you. Jimin is only a few seconds behind you, an insignificant amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but in this moment, on this track, it means everything— the difference between winning or losing. 

“That was dope!” Jungkook whoops when you swing your door open, and you grin at him. You’re a little shaky as you step out of the car, breathing hard with the adrenaline that’s still in your system, lightheaded. You love this feeling. You love when you’re driving and your entire body is on edge and wound tight— but you love the come down, too, the way you can feel how the adrenaline is still roiling through your veins, dissipating. 

You’re surrounded by the hubbub of the crowd, screaming and yelling at each other and the racers, but they’re still careful to steer clear of the cars. You can feel the heat of your engine through the hood and touch your fingers tenderly to the warm metal; you briefly catch Jimin’s eye as he climbs out of his Skyline but before you can do anything, your crew are grabbing you and you’re inevitably pulled away to collect your prize money and, as Taehyung says, ‘get turnt’. 

(You don’t do this for the prize money, though. You don’t do it for the free booze, the drugs, the sex: none of that interests you. You do it because you love to drive, love the sensation of control as you make your car dance in ways most drivers can’t even dream of— love showing that you’re good enough to win.)

Jimin finds you later, sequestered from the crowd and sitting on the hood of your car. Even though you’d won you hadn’t searched out the limelight and had slipped out after making a cursory appearance. It’s this little ritual the two of you have, searching each other out after your races, a few stolen moments of privacy despite the throngs of fans that fill whatever area that Seokjin has relegated the afterparty to. You see that Jimin notices the still full bottle of soju in your hands. You’re only holding onto it for appearance’s sake, an excuse if someone tries to foist more on you— you don’t drink and drive. 

“Congratulations,” he says. His eye makeup is a little smudged, probably from the humidity, but he looks just as alluring as before, stylish rather than mussed. “You drove beautifully.”

“So did you,” you reply, honest. It had been a close call, but Jimin had drifted as well as always, Skyline gliding as smooth and soft as silk over the rough asphalt of the mountain roads. You might be wary of Park Jimin but you’re always civil with each other and you’re nothing if not honest— he’s incredible at what he does.

“Not beautifully enough.” Jimin smiles wryly, but you know this is directed at himself and not you. You’ve never seen him act bitter after losing, unlike some other racers. Then again, he doesn’t flaunt his wins, either. Which is similar to you, you guess, although you wonder why he races at all. You don’t judge based on appearances or personality— you’re certainly the poster girl for being an unusual candidate for a street racer— but you have to wonder what set Jimin onto this path in the first place. “I’ll have to do better next time.”

“Feel free not to, I’m happy if you want to let me win,” you joke.

“We both know that’s not true.” Jimin’s smile has shifted from wry into something smaller. It feels almost like a secret, and you find your heart stuttering in your chest at the sight of it, this tiny bit of- this tiny bit of openness from him. “You want to race against the best, not someone who’ll just hand you first place.”

You blink with surprise. You can’t help but let this surprise show on your face even if you normally try to control your expressions around Jimin; you never want to show vulnerability to any of your competitors, even the ones who seem like genuinely okay people, like Namjoon or Hoseok. “That’s true,” you say. What’s the point of coming first if it isn’t actually a challenge? That’s what makes wins all the better— knowing that you’ve worked for it, that you’ve worked hard, that you’re racing against the best of the best and still come out on top. There’s a difference between being inexperienced and incompetent. You have no time for the latter.

Jimin is close enough to touch you. You’re acutely aware of the sweat that’s beaded along your hairline, both your forehead and at the back of your neck; you’ve shed your leather jacket to try your best to cool down in the humid night air and the baring of your skin has helped somewhat, shorts and vest revealing swathes of skin that can feel the light touch of the breeze, as heavy with mugginess as it is.

Of course, he doesn’t touch you. Instead he brushes his fingers across the metal of the Solstice’s hood, light enough that his fingers don’t leave a mark. Normally if anyone even approaches her you can feel your hackles rising, the urge to snap at them overwhelming— there’s a reason people usually avoid approaching your car— but for some reason Jimin doesn’t conjure this feeling in you. You let the touch pass without comment and you notice that Jimin’s fingers go still for a moment. He’d been expecting you to tell him to stop.

“She’s beautiful,” he says. He’s still looking at you.

“The love of my life.” You can’t help but smile a little when you say this. You lavish praise onto this car, calling her your love and baby, and she gives back as much as you put in.

“Mm.” Jimin hums lightly and strokes his fingers down the car again, before splaying fingers out, palm pressed flat against the hood; you hear the metal of his rings touch against it. The suspension of your Solstice isn’t exactly the highest in the world and with the curve of the hood this has Jimin leaning against it in a way that seems almost flirtatious, his hip cocked, although his expression doesn’t betray anything. He’s intimidatingly gorgeous. “What made you choose this car?”

You shrug. “Gut feeling,” you say. “Desire. I saw it, I wanted it. I got it. Why did you choose a Skyline?”

“Because they’re good for drifting,” Jimin says, with a small grin. Skylines aren’t an uncommon sight on the circuit and it certainly would have been a lot cheaper to tweak a Nissan than your Pontiac, what with export costs and difficulties getting American car parts over here— but that’s one good thing about owning a garage. Easier access because of your connections. “And because I like them.”

You point at him, other fingers still hooked around the neck of the soju bottle. “See, that’s how you should think,” you say. “It’s what I did. Don’t choose something because it’s the smart choice. Choose it because you like it. If you want something, go for it. You’ll make it work.”

Something flickers across Jimin’s face. He opens his mouth to speak but then your phone goes off; it’s in your back pocket, pressed against the hood of your car, vibrations amplified against the metal. Jungkook’s calling you. No doubt he’s wondering where you’ve gone and if he needs to save you from hordes of fans or something.

You decline the call and shoot him a quick text, wedging the soju bottle between your thighs before you begin to type both hands. You don’t notice how Jimin eyes the motion, how the beads of condensation on the glass are slick against your skin, shining; by the time you glance up, looking through your lashes, Jimin has straightened and taken a step back, no longer touching the Solstice. “Stay out of trouble,” he says. “I’ll see you next time.”

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” you say, but it doesn’t come out as sarcastically as you mean it to. Jimin gives you one last smile, a subtle upturn to his perfect lips, before he turns to go. You find yourself staring at Jimin as he leaves and absently wondering how on earth he fits that spectacular ass into those jeans of his.

--

The next time you race against Jimin you’re kind of a mess.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook asks, hesitantly, as you try to slam the hood of your car shut with less force than necessary; you fumble as you raise it and get it shut on the second try.

“I’m fine.” 

Taehyung and Jungkook exchange a look, but neither of them say anything. They’re clearly concerned about you and your weird behaviour. 

You haven’t told them the reason why you’re like this, not yet. You’d caught your boyfriend in bed with his ex; after their break-up they’d remained friends, and you being an idiot, had allowed it. You’d been unsure at first, but you’d decided to trust him after he'd kept on at you about it, only to discover that not only had he been cheating on you with his ex, he’d been cheating on you the whole time you’d been dating. Months of your time, spat on, wasted. You’re mad at him, at her, at them both, of course— you’d kicked them out of your apartment immediately, literally throwing their things out and slamming the door shut in his face when he’d tried to beg for forgiveness— but since that afternoon you’ve gone weirdly numb alongside the rage, and you go quiet when you’re angry, anyway. 

He’d been so nice on the surface, so kind to you, one of your few partners who’d been okay with the street racing and hadn’t tried to fight you on it, even if he’d never actually come to watch or actively encouraged you— but now that you think about it this is probably because it would have given him time to go fuck his sidepiece, which is what’s kind of messing you up the most. You feel stupid, too. Taehyung and Jungkook had always been wary of him, not liking his attitude and being mad that he hadn’t supported your interests. Boy, had they been proven right. Why hadn’t you listened to them?

(Why had you trusted him?)

You’re holding onto a spanner but fumble and drop it onto your foot. You’re wearing boots today so it’s not like it hurts, but the surprise of it brings you back into the moment, angry at your own clumsiness. Jungkook and Taehyung have retreated to the other side of the car; you haven’t told them about the cause of your mood yet and so they’re understandably perplexed at it. But you feel embarrassed and ashamed even if you logically know that it’s not your fault that you’d been cheated on and your oldest friends would never judge you— once this feeling passes, you’ll tell them. You know they’ll come up with some convoluted revenge plan, one that you’ll be totally on board with— but right now? Right now, you’re going to channel everything into this race. 

You’ve just finished flicking the clasps of your toolbox shut and straightened up when you notice that Min Yoongi has apparently walked over and is now talking to Taehyung, who looks faint, while Jungkook looks on with unbridled glee. You feel entertained at their expressions despite the tumult of feelings inside you, but then—

“Everything in working order?”

Of course, if Yoongi is here, Jimin would be, too. He looks so good it kind of hurts. His blonde hair has been pushed out of his face today, swooping away from his forehead, and rather than dangling chains he has simple hoops in his ears; it seems like he’s wearing contacts as well, light hazel eyes piercing as he watches you. (You miss the usual warmth of his dark brown eyes.)

“Pretty much,” you say. Jimin seems surprised at your lacklustre response but you can’t summon the energy needed to be your usual self, none of your subtle biting humour shining through tonight. You see how his brow twitches as he frowns a little; if you weren’t incorrect you’d say he seems— seems worried, almost? 

“That’s good.” He seems unsure about what to say, which is a first for him, and pauses before he speaks again, asking something he never has before. “Are you alright?”

You huff a laugh through your nose. “No, I’m half left,” you say, but then you give him a polite smile. “I’m okay. Do I not seem okay? Are you worried that I’ll pull out before the race starts? Don’t worry, I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

It’s weird. Jimin is clearly unsatisfied with your response, but not because it could be considered kind of rude— although it definitely could— but because you’re deflecting, and he’s concerned about you.

Concerned about you? Huh. What an odd realisation.

“I know you wouldn’t pull out of a race,” Jimin says. His eyebrows have both risen a little, face somewhat dubious, but when he says this you know he means it. “I’ll see you on the track.”

When he goes, Yoongi does too, though not before smirking at Taehyung in a way that should probably be illegal— judging from the expression on Taehyung’s face he’s ascended to nirvana and Jungkook muffles a laugh into his palm as you wander over.

“Min Yoongi gave me his number.” Taehyung sounds faint. “Someone pinch me, I’m dreaming.”

Jungkook socks him in the shoulder and Taehyung yelps.

“He said pinch, not punch, Kook,” you say, but Jungkook looks unrepentant until Taehyung punches him back, and then he just looks hurt (emotionally and physically). Neither of you buy it. “I’m happy for you, Tae.”

“You should plan your wedding for October. I bet Yoongi loves Halloween and you’d look great in autumnal colours,” Jungkook says. Taehyung sighs dreamily.

They’re both so caught up in this development in Taehyung’s long term crush that it allows you to let the smile drop off your face, and for a second your exhaustion and hurt shines through before you school your expression. You can’t let anyone on the track witness you being weak— you’ve had to claw your way up in their estimations and you’re not going to let one shitty guy fuck up your performance and take away all that work from you.

A few cars away, unnoticed, Yoongi watches as Jimin watches you in turn, then claps him on the shoulder. “You’re not being especially subtle, kid.”

“I— subtle about what, hyung?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “That girl is a competitor, not your friend. Why are you worrying about her?”

Jimin pauses before a slow frown starts to grow on his face, organising his thoughts. “I don’t want to race against someone when they’re not giving me their best,” he says. “Where’s the challenge in that?”

Yoongi looks skeptical but decides not to comment and so Jimin is free to glance back at you.

You look fine now. Maybe a little more stern faced than usual, though it can be hard to read your expressions sometimes; Jimin has watched you enough to become infinitely familiar with the line of your lips and the steel in your eyes, the determination written into you, even if most people seem to be unable to see past the makeup and clothes you put on, a way to lull them into underestimating you. 

Most people are so quick to jump to conclusions based on appearance. You must have been the only one who hadn’t done that to him, shaking his hand firmly and carefully when he’d first rolled onto the circuit— he could see how your eyes had darted over him, reading him, taking him in, immediately cautious. You’d seen past the front he’d put on.

You’re endlessly fascinating. Whip smart and talented without being narcissistic, but also without any false humility. You know you’re good. And you know how to play the game, too, coy and flirtatious with the men who underestimate you before blasting past them on the track. Before Jisoo had quit and moved back to Gunpo, you’d been friendly with her, a measured rapport that you no longer have now that you’re the only female racer in the Seoul circuit, and it must be exhausting to consistently be discredited just because you’re a woman— but you never seem ruffled by it.

So what’s happened to you tonight?

He keeps his eyes on you when you pull up to the line. Today you’re in Incheon and your route is to the airport and back again. The start is on the top level of a car park and you’re behind Jimin at the starting line; he keeps his eyes on you in his rearview mirror and notices the hardness of your face, none of the usual anticipation and excitement that colours your features before a race has begun. He can’t help but wonder.

Then the flagger walks onto the track, and Jimin focuses on them, on the swoop of the flag, before the race begins.

--

You come fifth.

All things told, fifth place isn’t bad, especially considering who you were racing tonight; there are a lot of really talented drifters in Incheon who are a lot more familiar with its roads than you are, driving the airport route regularly and drifting in the deserted airport car parks, leaving evidence of their visits with black tyre marks in ringed circles in the parking lots.

So it’s no surprise that an Incheon native had come first (Choi Minho clearly knows what he’s doing). Jimin had come second. You’d just beaten out Namjoon, who’d shaken your hand afterwards and congratulated you on the last turn before the finish line, the way you’d ridden his drag to get the momentum needed to sling yourself forwards and beat him. It had been a good manoeuvre, sure, but you’re still disappointed in yourself.

It’s not the fact that you hadn’t won that’s bothering you. It’s the fact you’d driven terribly, even if someone watching from the outside wouldn’t have been able to tell. For all that you’d been planning to channel your turbulent emotions into drifting, your handling had been off and your reactions had been stunted and so your driving had suffered. Your Solstice had given you as good a performance as always, but it wasn’t the car, it was you. 

You feel like shit.

You leave the afterparty sooner than usual and rather than just escaping somewhere, you leave altogether; it’s hard to be subtle with the loud exhaust of your Pontiac but you manage it somehow, the crowds of fans and drivers too caught up in their own revelries to notice you slipping away. You pull up into the dark of a deserted car park. The only light is from street lamps on the ridge behind you and the moon in the clear sky above and you’re surrounded by nothing but the silence of abandoned vehicles. You let your head tip forward until you’re resting your forehead against the grip of your steering wheel, warm from where you’ve been holding it.

You lift your head to roll your windows down to try and get some cooler night air in, and so you hear the sound of another car pulling into the lot— you know the spread of those headlights, the rumble of that exhaust. Jimin pulls up next to you, coming to a sharp stop before he cuts his engine and the lights die. He climbs out of his car with his usual grace, though when he rounds the hood of your Pontiac to approach the driver’s side he seems to be moving faster than normal.

“Y/n.” He sounds oddly serious, almost accusatory. “What was that?”

“What?”

He’s staring at you through your open window, his face austere; there’s a loose lock of his hair hanging across his forehead, now, falling away from how it had been pushed out of his face. He looks a little dishevelled, but artfully so, and you can’t help but envy his ability to look fashionably beautiful at all times, even when he’s frowning at you. “Tonight. Your driving was off. What happened?” 

Oh. You look away from him, staring back out of the front windscreen, unable to keep staring into his eyes. You feel weirdly ashamed, like you’ve disappointed him. Normally you couldn’t give two shits about what other racers think of you, but Jimin— Jimin is different. Jimin is the one person you measure yourself against, the one person who you feel personally challenged by, as distinctive and unusual as you both seem on the circuit, standing out in your own idiosyncratic ways, and he’s struck right into the heart of things: your driving was shoddy and he knows it.

“I—” Your mouth opens, and then shuts again. Oh, God. You’ve been holding it together, but as you sit there with Jimin still watching you, something inside you starts to fray and unravel, the tightness of your control slipping away from you. “My boyfriend was cheating on me,” you confess, and then you splay a hand across your face. You hide your face from him and so you don’t see how Jimin stiffens, eyes widening when he notices that you’ve started to cry; you’re not sobbing or making any noise, but there’s a glint of wetness on your cheeks, tears silently rolling down your face. “I only found out today and I can’t stop thinking about it and it fucked up my driving. I should have done better.”

You don’t know why you’re telling him this. Every part of your reputation is built up around not letting your competitors see any weakness in you, and here you are, spilling a private facet of your life to your personal rival and crying in front of him. You can’t look him in the eye. You don’t want to see the judgement on his face, the way you must be falling in his estimations: the way he must be realising that you’re just some weak little girl who isn’t even good enough to keep a relationship going. No doubt any second he’s about to laugh at you, or scoff derisively, or tell you to stop being so dramatic and to stop snivelling like some sort of child, and you’ll be left trying to pick up the pieces of your shattered reputation from the dark grey tarmac.

“Hey.”

Jimin’s voice is soft. When you don’t respond you feel the lightest touch of his fingers against the back of your hand, still pressed against your face; you sniff and pull the hand away, hesitantly turning your head to look at Jimin, afraid of what you’re going to see, even after hearing the tone of his voice.

But there’s no judgement on his face. No derision. He’s crouched down by the side of your Pontiac so your faces are level— his earlier frown has disappeared completely and all you can see is compassion. He doesn’t look like he pities you and instead he looks warm and empathetic. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. He clearly, genuinely means it. “It must really hurt.”

You laugh wetly. “It’s so stupid.” There are tears still dribbling down your cheeks, though they’ve started to slow. “The more I think about it, the more I realise I didn’t even really like him that much? I just… I don’t know,” you sigh. “It does hurt. When you trust someone and they break that trust. Of course I immediately dumped him and I’ll never take him back, but… I still can’t believe he did that to me. With his ex? I should have seen it coming. I feel so stupid.”

Jimin stays quiet as you sniff again. You feel gross and messy, your face swollen from tears, and your makeup must be running, too. You must look terrible right now. And yet Jimin continues to look at you with that gentle understanding, like he doesn’t care about how you’ve just let slip this raw part of yourself. 

You wonder if he’s going to say the usual set phrases— that you deserve better (you do), that your ex was probably a dick anyway (he was), all of that— but he doesn’t. He doesn’t cheapen your pain with any normal idioms. Instead, he slowly reaches forward, giving you plenty of time to stop him or pull away, but you don’t. You let him take the edge of his sleeve and lightly dab at your cheeks, unheeding of how your tears darken the fabric of his expensive looking bomber jacket; the fabric isn’t exactly soft, but his touch is. You don’t know why you let him touch you, yet you don’t regret it, not with how kind he’s being to you right now. You let your traitorous body lean into his touch and he doesn’t react, but you’re not sure if that’s because he chooses not to or if he doesn’t notice.

When Jimin pulls back he keeps his fingers hooked on your door, on the lip where the window has retracted into, and his face is closer now. What little light is reaching the two of you seems to have gathered on him, like the moon can’t help but shine on the man— the silver light mellows him, softening the edges of his beauty, and he doesn’t look like your indomitable rival. He just looks like a person, a boy, surprisingly soft and cute, eyes warm.

(He looks like a friend.)

“There’s nothing stupid about trusting someone that you’re in a relationship with,” Jimin says. “Relationships should be built on trust, and you weren’t stupid for investing yourself in that. What he did wasn’t a reflection on you, and it’s his burden to bear. Please don’t feel stupid.” He’s looking at you so sincerely and the thing inside you that had frayed and unraveled turns to liquid at the sight, trickling through your chest like a refreshing rush of water. 

“Okay.” Your voice is a murmur. “I mean, I do feel stupid right now, but I know you’re right.” It’s one thing to know an emotional truth, but it’s another to hear it said out loud by another person— and it’s nice to know that someone you’re not even that close to supports you. It’s why, in a way, it’s almost easier to believe Jimin; he has no reason to be nice to you. And yet here he is.

“Good.” Jimin is equally as quiet as you, but he sounds pleased, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“I’ll be fine by the next race,” you say. Even as you say that, you know it’s true— your sudden outburst of tears has already started to dry up, and for all that you still feel the pain inside you, you feel… better. Admitting this to Jimin has been weirdly soothing, even if you should probably be worried about how this is going to come back and bite you on the ass. For all that you’ve just been speaking about how someone had broken your trust, you find yourself trusting Jimin, trusting that he’s not going to use this moment of weakness against you later.

You already trust him more than you’d trusted your ex— but you’re not sure if that says something about Jimin or if that says something about you. 

“Don’t worry,” Jimin says. “We won’t count this race.”

You let slip a surprised cough of laughter. Even though you’d been crying less than five minutes ago you find that a smile begins to split your face and your spirits quietly lift when Jimin smiles back at you. You can’t help but notice that one of his front teeth is a little bit crooked, and you’re just— just captivated by it. You've never been this close to Jimin before, or let your eyes run across his face the way they are right now; it seems like there's still more to learn about his features, as familiar with them as you thought you were. 

“How gracious. That means I’m still ahead of you.” Your smile has grown smaller but no less happy, and you hope that Jimin knows that. Judging from the look on his face you’d say that he does. He’s always polite, but he’s never been this overtly, directly kind before, but you’ve also never allowed him the opportunity, the two of you keeping each other at a respectful arm’s length. You can’t help but feel grateful. “Jimin… thank you.”

He gives you a little shake of the head. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt like this,” he says. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re cheaper than therapy,” you reply, grinning at him while pressing your tongue against your teeth and touching it to your lower lip, a little cheeky; he seems surprised at the fact you’re talking to him like this when you’re normally more distant and deliver your lines without the weight of your laughter behind it, especially off the back of just crying. You’ve never seen Jimin caught off guard, even if he seems to gather himself up almost immediately.

“Maybe I should charge you, then,” he says with a smile, and you huff out a breath of laughter.

“That’s just greedy.” You lean back in the seat of your car, hair pressing against the headrest, and look at yourself in your rearview mirror. You don’t look anywhere as bad as you’d thought but you still wince a little. “Oh, wow. I should go home and wash off this mascara before someone sees me and mistakes me for a panda.”

“You make a very cute panda,” Jimin says. You scoff.

“Don’t try and lull me into a false sense of security so I go easy on you the next time we have a race. Just because I spilled a secret to you doesn’t mean that I like you.” You point at him, but the words come out softer than you mean them to and Jimin clearly doesn’t take them to heart.

“Of course not.”

The two of you drive back to Seoul together. When you get to longer, empty stretches of road you throttle your cars and weave around each other; your windows are still down and Jimin’s put his down too, heedless of how the wind is making a mess of his hair. At one point the two of you hit a turn and when you drift around it you let out a loud whoop of joy, chasing away your earlier sadness in the face of this euphoria. 

When you race you don’t let yourself go like this but there’s something to be said about letting yourself shout out loud as you drop into a corkscrew of a turn, riding it out with a screech from your tires, drifting and slamming down on the accelerator because you can. Jimin is grinning and though it’s hard to hear over the roar of your exhausts, he’s laughing; it’s nice to see that he's enjoying himself, too. Normally on the track he's single-minded and only focused on the win, not giving himself over to theatrics, but this, this lets you know that Jimin genuinely loves to drift, and something in you is glad.

You slide into another turn, popping your handbrake and letting the car swing around, and Jimin moves in tandem with you— when you race you’ll try to throw your opponents off, force risky moves so they’re forced off balance, but right now you’re not competing with each other and so you match each other’s motions. Smoke goes flying from your tyres, kicking back dust and burnt rubber, and you ride the spike of adrenaline in your blood with wide eyes and bared teeth. The adrenaline rises in your veins, and the unhappiness dims, and you join in with Jimin’s laughter when you hit another straight stretch of road. You leave your sadness behind in Incheon as you rush forwards and back to Seoul, Jimin matching your pace and coasting alongside you, and it feels weirdly peaceful. Weirdly right.

Once you reach the city and have to part, you pull up at a deserted intersection, adjacent to each other. Jimin’s hair has been entirely pulled out of its earlier style and he looks so much younger like this, blond locks falling over his forehead, dishevelled— you find that you really, really like it. He catches you looking and parts his lips, flicking out his tongue on one side of his mouth, similar to your earlier motion but a lot more shameless. You know the fact that you’re startled is obvious on your face but you’ve never seen him like this before, provocative and wild and free.

“How dare you,” you say mildly, and he throws his head back when he laughs.

--

“Okay, seriously,” Jungkook says. “What is going on between you and Jimin?”

You glance away from the aforementioned man who you’ve been watching as he’s been bent over the hood of his car, fiddling with something in the engine; it’s hard not to look, eyes glued to the motion of his hips and how he fills out his black jeans so perfectly. “Hm? What?”

“Kookie’s right, you’ve kind of been… uh… weird, recently.” Taehyung sounds hesitant.

“Weird? Tae, she goes up to Jimin to talk to him before races. She never does that with other people, let alone Park Jimin.”

“She does sometimes. She likes Hoseok.”

“Guys, I’m still here,” you say, lifting a hand. Both men shut up. “What’s weird about it?”

“Uh, everything?” Jungkook looks baffled. “Since when are you and Park Jimin bosom buddies? I thought you hated him.”

“I never said that,” you protest, which is true. “I just said he’s my biggest rival on the circuit. Doesn’t mean that I hate him.”

“Clearly not,” Jungkook says. “I was joking about the sexual tension before, but nowadays the two of you look like you’re constantly two seconds away from just eating each other. When did that happen?”

“You’re talking about cannibalism, Kook,” Taehyung says, and Jungkook flaps his hand at the other boy while saying you know what I mean.

Okay, admittedly, your friends both have a point. After you’d confessed your break-up to Jimin, even though you instinctively trust him (for some reason), there’d been the lingering concern that he was going to see this chink in your armour and exploit that weakness— but he hasn’t. He hasn’t even referred to it again, not explicitly; the next time you’d seen each other he’d just softly asked if you were okay, and when you’d said yes, that had been that. But as time has gone on you find that when you and Jimin talk, it’s not just the cursory exchanges you used to have. He lingers longer when he speaks to you before races and you open up conversation more when you find each other alone during the afterparties and it’s… it’s strangely easy to open up to Jimin.

So, yeah, you’ve been walking over to talk to him, too. He’d always been the one to search you out first, and you don’t want him to think that your friendship is one-sided, so you’ve been doing the same for him. Friendship. You’re friends with Park Jimin. Who would have thought you’d live to see the day?

“He’s looking over here,” Jungkook says, and you glance in Jimin’s direction. He always looks great but tonight he’s fucking devastating, hair in stylish waves and eyes smoky, the neckline of his shirt almost scandalously low, revealing his collarbones. When you make eye contact, rather than looking away he just stares back at you, before letting his lips curl up in what could be considered a flirtatious smirk— even from this far you can see the glisten of his lips, the dark pink of his pout.

That’s something that’s new, too. As you’ve both been getting to know each other more you’ve been letting down your defences, and one thing that’s apparently developed is this sort of give and take of coy banter, teasing flirtation that just slips out. Sure, you flirt jokingly with Hoseok too, but with Jimin it’s… it’s a bit heavier than that, a little more direct. But feels so natural that you don’t second guess it and you’re not about to stop someone as fucking hot as Park Jimin acting like he wants you, so.

You mirror a similar expression back, pouting your lips at him, and Jimin’s eyes look like they darken in response. Taehyung makes a little noise of distress. “Oh, my God, Kookie, I take it back, you’re right,” he says. “They do want to eat each other.”

“Shut up,” you say, finally tearing your eyes away from Jimin. “Don’t act like you don’t want Yoongi to eat your ass out on a car.”

“I do not!” Taehyung squeaks in a way that says he kind of absolutely does, but he’s embarrassed about it. “Shut up!”

“We’re just friends,” you say, before picking up your toolbox and shoving it into Jungkook’s arms. He makes a little oof sound as the weight of it hits his chest. “Don’t be jealous, you know I’m ride or die for the two of you.”

“You don’t try to eyefuck us like you do with Jimin,” Jungkook says.

“Do you want me to?” You raise your eyebrows at him. Taehyung looks horrified and Jungkooks makes a noise of disgust.

“You’re like our sister! That’s heinous,” he says. “I’m going to get rid of the toolbox and we’re never going to speak of this conversation again.”

“Please, let’s do that,” Taehyung begs. You laugh and roll your eyes but agree, glad that they’ve both dropped the Jimin thing.

You’re not blind. You’ve always known Jimin is drop-dead gorgeous, and it’s also hard not to admire someone when they’re as talented as he is— working hard to grow a skill is something you’ve always found attractive and Jimin drives his Skyline like it’s effortless, wheels spinning and car gliding into each bend as easy as breathing. Jungkook wasn’t necessarily wrong when he said you look like you want to eat him, but as close as Jimin and you are apparently getting, you have no plans to try and fuck your rival any time soon. He’s a friend now, yes, but you’re both competitors, too.

Taehyung catches sight of Yoongi nearby and brightens before wandering off, and Jungkook’s still absent— presumably putting the toolbox away— so you’re left alone by your Pontiac. You run a hand up the back of your neck and just under your updo, feeling your hair under your fingers, an instinctive habit that you don’t think about, but then someone behind you lets out a low whistle.

“Wow.”

You turn away from your car to see who it is. It’s a newcomer to the circuit, someone you haven’t spoken to so far, even if you’ve seen him around. He’s handsome, his hair a red that's darker than the eye-catching brightness of your car and he has a piercing in one of his undyed brows. You’ve only raced against him once— all things told he’s pretty good, even if he hadn’t made it to the top three (you’d beaten Jimin that time, too). 

“And you are?” You decide to play ignorant. The man grins at you, amused.

“I’m Changkyun,” he says. “And I know who you are, Y/n.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head at him. “How do you know that, exactly?”

“It’s hard to ignore a queen when she’s carving up the track.” His eyes slide away from you to your Pontiac, the way the light is glinting off her smooth curves and clean lines. “And when her car is almost as gorgeous as she is.”

You have to admit, as much as Changkyun is shamelessly flirting right now, he’s a lot more nuanced than the usual guys that come over to try it on with you. He clearly knows how good you are and this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him around the circuit so he’s probably aware of your reputation— but he’s still decided to bite the bullet and speak to you anyway. You have to give him props for that.

“A queen, huh?” His eyes flick back up to your face when you say this. “Is that what people say about me?”

“I don’t need someone to tell me that you deserve to be treated like royalty,” he says. “I knew that from the second I laid eyes on you.”

His voice is pitched low and there’s a smile playing at the edge of his lips. You raise your eyebrows and let your mouth purse a little, touching a finger to your bottom lip as if in thought; Changkyun’s dark eyes trace every motion, shameless.

“What does being treated like royalty mean, exactly?” You tap your lip, letting your nail press into the swell of flesh. “Being nice to me?”

“A hands on demonstration would be the best way to show you.” Changkyun has stepped closer to you, leaning in, although you notice he’s still giving you space— he really is a lot more nuanced than you’re used to. You’re begrudgingly impressed, even if you don’t show it. “If you’d like.”

“If I’m a queen, I don’t think I should let some regular commoner just touch me,” you say, a little haughty, and Changkyun laughs.

“That’s true,” he says, grinning at you with a mouthful of teeth, a wolf. “Winners are kings, right? How about if I beat you in the race today, you’ll think about it?”

You let out a little giggle, making it obvious that you don’t feel threatened. He really has endless confidence, especially considering how you’d outpaced him easily in the one race you’ve had together; he’s definitely capable of winning in his Silvia but it doesn’t matter how well he’s tweaked the S15 if he’s not able to drive it as well as he needs to. 

“Oh, I’ll definitely think about it,” you say. “I guess I should wish you good luck then, hm?”

He’s not offended by your laughter and instead it just seems like he wants to rise to the bait. “You’re too kind,” he says. “Would it be too much to ask for a good luck kiss?”

“It would.” You toss your head and he laughs again, quiet and low.

“Alright,” he says, that ever present grin still on his lips. “I’ll see you at the starting line, queen.”

When you climb into your car you know he’ll be watching you. You’re wearing a skirt today and the fabric hitches up when you lower yourself into your seat, revealing the skin of your thigh; you pay no attention to whoever’s looking. You don't have to. You know you look good.

You’ve driven this route in Namsan enough times that you could map out its topography in your sleep, its looping curves lending itself to being one of the most fun roads you get to drift on. Jimin rolls into a smooth stop next to you, Skyline easing into place, and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. When you take in the expression on his face you almost do a double take.

He looks hungry. There’s no other way to describe it, really. You’re used to seeing resolve on his face, of course, his determination to win— but tonight he looks almost on edge, eyes hard as he stares out at the road and fingers wrapped tight around his steering wheel, like he’s going to throw his car forwards so he can win, starving for it.

When the flag drops Jimin’s Skyline jumps forward like a bullet from a gun. You try to match his pace but he throws you off when he slings himself out of a turn and slides into a choku-dori, the zig-zagging motion of his car catching you off guard and forcing you to drift longer after the turn, your foot tight on the clutch as the back of your Solstice swings around in a wider arc to avoid him. Jimin drives more recklessly tonight than you’re used to, drifting around each bend faster than you would dare: it’s exhilarating to watch even if he’s absolutely destroying you— he blasts over the finish line first to the roar of the crowd, the sound of his screaming throttle dying down as he pulls to a screeching stop, triumphant.

You and Hoseok come joint second, exactly the same time on the clock. You’re panting as you step out of your car, hands shaking with adrenaline, staring in Jimin’s direction with incredulity. Jungkook and Taehyung are waiting for you but when you ask for water they both rush off, saying they can cover more ground with the two of them (whatever that means). Hoseok distracts you when he comes over and high-fives you over your combined second place, indifferent to his loss.

“Jimin was driving like a beast today,” he comments as he glances over at the man. “I wonder what got into him?”

“I have no clue,” you say. Jimin isn’t looking over at you, distracted by groups of fans who have surrounded him before he disappears to collect his prize money, and you wonder what’s going through his head. “Did you see how he approached that second turn?”

“Yeah, I did.” Hoseok nods. “It was way more aggressive than usual, wasn’t it? Oh, I think someone wants to talk to you,” he says as he spots someone over your shoulder, taking a step back and wiggling his fingers at you in a goodbye wave. “I’ll catch you at the afterparty, cutie.”

‘Someone’ turns out to be Changkyun, of course. He’d come fourth. The final hairpin turn seems like it had thrown him off, though he’d recovered well from it if he’d only been beaten out by Namjoon. “Guess someone else has the title of king, tonight,” Changkyun says, and though he sounds disappointed, he sounds less bothered than you would have expected.

“So it seems.” You straighten as Jungkook approaches with a water bottle, already uncapped for you, and you accept it from him gratefully before taking in a sip. He gives Changkyun a long look but doesn’t say anything, though Changkyun seems uncowed. “You drove well, though.”

“That’s high praise, coming from you.” Changkyun seems pleased at your compliment. “Maybe I’ll beat you next time, huh?”

“I’ll try not to hold my breath,” you say drily, no longer in the mood to play along with him. You’re not trying to be cocky but the truth is that you’d never been worried about him beating you— and even if he had, you don’t fuck around with other drivers, or fans, as desperate as they might be. The underground racing scene is rife with this sort of stuff but you still have no interest in it and for all that Changkyun is undeniably attractive and admittedly intriguing, it’s nowhere near enough to genuinely catch your attention.

(There's only one driver on the circuit who has your attention the way Changkyun wants it, but no one needs to know that.)

Changkyun just laughs. He doesn’t seem surprised or offended at all. “Whatever makes you happy. Maybe I’ll see you at the afterparty.”

As he walks away, Jungkook clicks his tongue, unimpressed, while you gulp down another mouthful of water and try to still your adrenaline-shaking fingers.

The crowd at Namsan is pretty big tonight, the openness of the mountain roads allowing more people to get out here and park up to watch, but on the same token of being on a mountain it doesn’t exactly lend itself to being the sort of place that’s good to stand around and drink. There are some warehouses nearby that are empty overnight and it’s only a short drive there, people migrating after the race has finished; you’ll get other drivers who are too afraid to race coming to show off their cars, revving their engines and doing doughnuts in the deserted warehouse car parks. You park your Solstice away from this revelry, not wanting to be asked to join in— you’ve already had your adrenaline high of the night, and besides, everyone knows how good you are without you having to prove it by doing figure 8s in an old parking lot or burning out your tyres.

At one point you see Changkyun again but when he looks like he’s about to approach you, you just raise your eyebrows at him. He lifts his hands in a deferential act of surrender and leaves you alone which shows a surprising amount of self-awareness on his part.

You know Taehyung has wandered off with Yoongi, but you wonder where Jungkook is and turn away from where Changkyun is retreating to see if you can find him. Instead you see Jimin for the first time since the race, making eye contact— he must have been watching you, already looking in your direction when you spot him.

The second you see him, your lips unwittingly lift into a smile. It’s not even conscious on your part, your genuine happiness at seeing him shining through on your face. Jimin pauses but then a girl appears out of the crowd nearby and latches onto his arm, batting her eyelashes at the winner of the night; he’s startled by her appearance and looks away from you before he can smile back.

Normally you’d find it funny, that brief moment of bewilderment on Jimin’s face as he’s being accosted by someone, but for some reason today you don’t feel amused— the smile hardens on your face and jealousy licks at your insides before your eyes widen in surprise. You have no right or reason to feel like this. Jimin is free to do what he likes, of course, and the girl is gorgeous— why shouldn’t he just do what every other driver does and take what he wants?

You think you’re done socialising for the night. You’ll catch up with Taehyung and Jungkook later.

For once you’ve managed to get your hands on a non-alcoholic drink. You crack open the can of peach water and lean against your car as you sip it, feeling refreshed even if the liquid is tepid at best. You’re idly reading the ingredients list and raising your eyebrows at the sugar content when you hear the sound of footsteps approaching you; you glance up, wondering who’s come this far away from the party to your concealed parking spot.

“Jimin?” The surprise is obvious in your voice. Even though you still meet each other alone during each afterparty you’d never expected to see him so soon, especially considering the groupies who’d been gathering around him after he’d come first. The stunning girl who’d been clinging onto his arm is nowhere in sight. “Hi.”

“Hi.” There’s something in his expression that you can’t read. Despite his win, he still has that look of hunger on his face, although it seems more muted than it had earlier. Speaking of his win—

“Congrats on coming first,” you say, raising your can at him in a cheers motion. “That was some incredible driving. You deserve that win.” And everything else that comes with it, you think to yourself, the voice in your head shockingly bitter. You need to calm down.

Jimin is standing a lot closer than he normally does. It’s kind of hard to keep your eyes off the line of his neck and his collarbones; the vee of his shirt has dipped even lower, showing off even more of his skin. “It was close.”

You can’t help but laugh. “No, it wasn’t, and you know it. There’s no need to be humble. But really, your driving was unparalleled tonight. What was up with that? You’re not normally that much of a daredevil.”

Jimin pauses. “You want to know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know, Jimin.” You’re being more standoffish now than you have been recently, but you can’t help it, even if you sort of feel like a petulant child. You’re still holding onto your can of peach water, arms loosely crossed in a way that allows you to keep lifting it to your mouth, and you raise one of your eyebrows at him as you take a drink from it; you almost choke on that sip of water when Jimin gets closer, crowding you against the car. His arms come to either side of you and he cages you in, trapping you. He leans forwards and your eyes go wide.

“You really want to know?” When he speaks his face is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath curling out of his mouth; your eyes betray you and flit down to his lips, watching the way they curve themselves around the words. Even though you wrench them back up immediately you know Jimin would have seen you look, and there’s a quiet, pleased upturn to his lips now, though the intensity in his eyes hasn’t dimmed at all. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You might be at Jimin’s mercy right now, but you’re not about to let him know that— even if it’s patently obvious. You’ve pulled your arms closer to your chest, trying to crowd as far back against your car as you can, but Jimin is still so close. “Yeah. I do.”

“To prove that I’m better than him,” he says. “To put him in his place.”

Even though you probably shouldn’t laugh directly in Jimin’s face when he looks as intense as he does, you can’t help it. “What, Changkyun? Of course you’re better than him. Why would you feel the need to prove it?”

Jimin seems pleased by your praise, preening a little, but his eyes are still hooded as he looks at you. “So he knows that he’s never going to be good enough.”

His gaze is still heavy, eyes piercing. This entire situation is already spiralling out of your grasp, but even though your heart is pounding, you find that you don’t mind it at all. You'd told Jungkook earlier that you and Jimin are just friends, and you hadn't been lying, but right now it's getting hard to hold onto that fact— the warmth of Jimin's body so close to yours, his face so near to your own, the two of you almost flush.

“Good enough for what, Jimin?”

“Good enough to be the challenge that you want,” he answers. His voice is quiet but you still hear him perfectly. “The challenge that you need.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Oh. “I don’t have to look for that.” Your voice is a whisper, almost trembling as you admit this. As you lay yourself bare in front of Jimin. “You know that I’ve already found it.”

And Jimin— Jimin smiles. He takes a hand off the Pontiac and runs the pad of his thumb down your jawline before resting it just under the swell of your bottom lip. His touch is slow and languid, giving you time to pull away if you want to: but you don't want to. You tilt your head forward into his touch, tipping your head down so that his thumb rests on the seam of your lips instead, but then he takes the hand away. Before you can do or say anything, he sets it on your outer thigh, just below the hem of your skirt, and waits. There's a question in his eyes, a little lift of his eyebrows, still giving you a chance to push him away— but you don't, so he drags his hand upwards and begins to hitch up the material.

You set your can of unfinished peach water aside, metal clinking against the roof of your car. Now that your hands are free you wind them behind Jimin’s neck and tug him closer. Your noses brush as his hand changes direction, drawing his small, delicate fingers over the lace trim of your panties; your mouth opens and you tilt your head forwards, your lips almost touching, but not quite. Jimin doesn’t bridge that gap and seems content to let you get wound up, the way your hips twitch each time it seems like he’s going to dip between your legs but doesn’t.

“Stop teasing me.” Your voice comes out weak and breathy.

“Stop teasing you?” Jimin raises his eyebrows like he’s affronted, even as you part your legs further and he runs his fingers up the seam of your inner thigh, rather than where you really want him to touch. “I’m just returning the favour.”

It’s a little hard to focus on what he’s saying, your focus on the sensation of his fingertips on your skin, but you frown in confusion. “Returning the favour?”

“I’m showing you what you can have, but not giving it to you,” he says. “Changkyun almost thought he could have you. You’re always so coy with Hoseok, too. But you think I haven’t noticed how you’re different with me? You actually want me. But you just tease and flirt and then leave me wanting more.”

“Jimin.” You suck in a breath as you feel a fleeting touch of his fingers where you’ve been wanting them, the lightest run of his fingers over your slit, though you barely feel it through the fabric of your underwear. He must be able to feel the wetness of you through it. He’s barely touched you and you already feel like a wreck. “Kiss me.”

For a long second you think that he won’t acquiesce, but then his lips are against yours and you sigh against his mouth. You’ve always thought that his lips were sinful and you’re proven right, the swell of them so soft, the way he fits them together with yours; you bask in how gentle the kiss is, eyes slipping shut so you can focus on the sensation. One kiss turns into two, into three, presses of your lips against each other, and you’re so caught up in it that you almost forget about the warmth of Jimin’s hand between your thighs— but your eyes fly open and your breath hitches when he finally slips his fingers into your panties. He runs them up your lower lips, touch still teasing, but then he presses his fingertips against your clit, hard, and you gasp against his lips.

He swallows the sound. Your kisses become open mouthed and you lick desperately into his mouth before he starts to circle his fingers around your pearl of nerves, making you jolt against the side of the car. You have to tip your head back to suck in air, breathless from the kisses and sensitivity, and Jimin takes the opportunity to dip his head and kiss the side of your neck, dragging his teeth over your skin. He nips at the sensitive junction between your neck and shoulder and purses his lips before he sucks hard at it, laving his tongue over the mark that's sure to blossom into a hickey.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp. Jimin takes the hand that has been bracing himself against the car and moves it to the back of your neck instead, fingers resting at your lower hairline in a grasp that feels surprisingly tender even as he tips your head forward so he can catch your lips again, now that he's left a physical reminder of himself in your skin. The juxtaposition between the slowness of these kisses and the way he’s starting to teasingly dip his fingers just into your entrance is making your head spin, reeling, his soft lips opposing his firm touch. “Jimin.” Your voice is needy as you dig your fingers into Jimin’s shoulder blades. “Please, I need more.”

Jimin rests his forehead against yours, staring at you, and his voice is low as he speaks. “Don’t worry,” he says, with a little smile. “When we’re not racing, I’ll always make sure that you come first.”

You can’t help but giggle. “That’s so stupid,” you say, and Jimin laughs quietly with you, but then your laughter cuts into an inhalation of air as Jimin presses two fingers into you. “Oh, that’s just unfair,” you pant, but you tilt your hips forward to give him a better angle. You’ve always been fascinated with Jimin’s hands, as small and pretty as they are, and they don’t need to hit deep to make you feel good, filling you up so well as he continues to slide them into your tight, wet heat.

He uses the heel of his palm to grind against your clit as he continues to thrust his fingers into you, and it’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you approach your peak. Since you broke up with your ex you haven’t had sex with anyone else, and you’re usually so tired after work or racing that you don’t make time to pleasure yourself alone— but you get the feeling that even if these things weren’t true, you’d still get wound up this quickly, because it’s Jimin.

You think he knows that, too. You’ve stopped kissing, now, your mouths just open against each other, barely touching, and his eyes are drinking each of your reactions in, the way your body responds to him, the way the pleasure is written across your face. Your brows are drawn together and your breaths are coming faster, and Jimin pushes another finger in— it’s lewd, the slick sound of your wetness against his hand as he thrusts his fingers and continues to press his palm against your clit, the metal of his rings warmed from your skin. 

Just as you think you’re about to cum, Jimin’s hand stops. You make a noise of need, one of your hands coming to clutch his arm as you try to buck your hips, but it’s not enough. You choke back a sob. “Jimin,” you say. “I’m so close.”

“Ask politely, baby,” he replies, smile wicked, and you almost keen. Normally you’d refuse to beg, but you’re wound so tight right now, so needy—

“Please, Jimin,” you beg. “Let me cum, please, I wanna cum, please, fuck, oh—” Jimin’s started to move his hand again, even faster than before, and you grind your hips into it, riding those fingers with wanton desperation.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “I want to see you fall apart.”

You shudder at his words. It only takes a few more hard curls of his fingers and one particularly long press against your clit and you tumble over the edge; you can feel how your walls ripple around him as waves of pleasure spark through you, the cum that flushes out of you, and you’re writhing against the Pontiac, riding out your orgasm around his fingers. You don’t know what noises you’re making but Jimin muffles them, pressing his tongue past your lips and licking the sounds out of your mouth.

When he pulls his fingers out of you and takes his hands out of your panties, you shiver, still oversensitive. “God, Jimin, you make me feel so good,” you whimper. Jimin looks pleased, and when he lifts his hand to your lips you let them fall open as you stare up at him. You take his fingers into your mouth without protest, circling them with your tongue, licking across his knuckles and fingertips hungrily, the taste of your own pleasure lingering on your tongue as you bob your head and look at Jimin meaningfully.

You’re both startled out of the moment when you hear footsteps and voices approaching. You freeze, the two of you stiffening against each other; although you’re sequestered from the party, you’re not so far away that people couldn’t stumble across you. Jimin pulls your head into his chest so that you’re hidden from view, his head turning in the direction of the sounds— when they fade he lets you go and you go lax and flop backwards over the roof of your car, letting your arms spread wide after that brief moment of panic passes. Jimin turns his head to look down at you, and you give him a smile, still punch-drunk from your post orgasm come down, which he returns. His lips are kiss swollen and he looks so beautiful like this, silhouetted by the night sky behind him as he smiles at you, even if the rest of your surroundings leave something to be desired.

“Wow, Jimin.” You lift one of your hands to draw it down his chest, pulling the neckline of his shirt even lower, revealing more of his skin to you. You can’t help but sigh with delight, almost overwhelmed. “Do you have any idea how incredible you are?” 

His smile turns surprisingly cheeky. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to tell me again,” he says, and you laugh.

“Your praise kink is showing,” you tease. You lift your other hand and draw your palms over his stomach, surprised but pleased when you feel lines of hard muscle through the fabric of his shirt. “You never had anything to prove, you know,” you say, softer now. “Changkyun is nothing to me. No one else is. You’re the only person on this circuit who I watch.”

Jimin bends forwards, resting his elbows on the roof, hovering above you as he continues to give you that cheeky smile. “Oh?”

You smile back. “Don’t act like you don’t know it,” you say. It’s true that you hadn’t had plans to try and fuck Jimin, but it’s also true that— “When I drive, the only person I want to beat is you. No one else matters. You’ve ruined me, Park Jimin. I never used to care like this.”

In the distance, someone’s engine backfires. Neither of you react to the noise. Jimin is looking down at you with a soft but unreadable expression on his face. “I saw Changkyun approaching you at the afterparty.”

You tilt your head back against the car, lifting your chin as your eyes squeeze with laughter. “Then you saw how I basically told him to fuck off?”

“Yes.” Jimin’s smile goes so wide you can see his teeth, eyes crescents, face bright. “That made me happy.”

“Ah, so you like praise and you’re possessive. Cute,” you say, running a finger down Jimin’s forehead and to the end of his nose, before tapping it. “I suppose now is a good time to let you know that I’m possessive, too.”

“Good,” Jimin says, and then lets out a tinkling laugh when you make a kissing noise at him through pursed lips. “Is that why I saw you disappear after that girl grabbed me?”

“No comment,” you reply, but then pout at him when he crooks an eyebrow at you. “I wasn’t about to watch someone else climbing all over you, was I? She was gorgeous, of course I was jealous.”

“You have nothing to be jealous of.” Jimin lightly draws one of his hands over your collarbones, thumbing at the hollow under your neck, your skin hypersensitive to his touch. “You’re the only one I want.”

You let the self-satisfaction show on your face and Jimin laughs again. He’s still giggling when you start to run your fingers rhythmically through his hair, combing through the product that’s keeping it out of his face, and watch as the locks start to cover his forehead. He makes a questioning noise at the back of his throat. “What are you doing?”

“I want to look,” you say. He always has his forehead at least a little bared, and the one time you’d seen it covered, it had transformed his whole look, and you want to see if it was a fluke. 

It wasn’t. Like this his hair is so long it hangs in his eyes, but because he’s bent forward it just frames his face instead, and it almost feels like a curtain that’s shutting off the rest of the world, letting you see a softer side that he never reveals on the circuit. “Ah, there it is. The duality of man,” you sigh happily. Cute, but gorgeous. Soft, but devastating. Incredible.

You draw your hands back down his body, and then you roughly tug his shirt out from where it’s been tucked into his trousers. You feel how his stomach jumps when you lightly drag your fingers across it, feeling the faint definition of abs, and you can’t help but grin. “You’re a fucking meal, Park Jimin,” you say, hooking your fingers in his belt. You tug on it, using the weight of Jimin’s body help you up— he straightens as you do, and your hips are flush, the material of your skirt still hitched up so that the damp material of your panties is rubbing against him, and you can feel his growing hardness. “Can I have a taste?”

Jimin laughs again. When you smile back at him, he leans in and slants his mouth against yours, a small touch of your lips before he pulls back. “Anything you want,” he says, and your smile turns hungry.

You tug at him, repositioning your bodies so that he’s pressed up against the Pontiac instead. He leans back on his arms, bracing his palms against the low roof of the car as you step back for a little bit of room so that you can unbuckle his belt. You use one hand to lift his shirt up, revealing his chest and stomach to you, the lines of muscle he keeps hidden away. Your mouth waters. You’re briefly distracted when you notice stark lines of black on his ribs, splaying your fingers under the tattoo you find there; you want to taste it. So you crouch, dipping your head to lick across the sensitive skin of his rib cage and over each letter, NEVERMIND etched permanently into his skin.

You can feel how Jimin reacts, the way his chest jumps as he sucks in a breath. You want to know what the tattoo means, why he got it, but that can wait— right now you have more pressing matters to attend to. You run your tongue down the line of his stomach as you drag his zipper down with deft fingers, and then pull your face away to watch as you start to pull his jeans down. You take in the sight of his hard cock, contained by his briefs, the damp patch of precum darkening the fabric around the head.

You glance up at Jimin as you shift from a crouch and fully onto your knees. Your bare skin presses against the pavement, rough, but you don’t care; Jimin’s eyes are dark and heavy as he watches you kneel in front of him, and you keep your eyes locked as you purse your lips and kiss the tip of his cock through his underwear. He hisses. You grip his shaft through the fabric, mouthing at the head and dragging your wet tongue across the cotton, staring coyly up at him the whole time.

“Tease,” Jimin says. You huff out a laugh and take your hand away from where it’s been holding his shirt up and cup his balls through his briefs, drunk on how you can see and feel his dick twitching when you do. 

“I give as good as I get, babe,” you say. Jimin takes one of his hands off the Pontiac to rest on the top of your head and lightly tangles his fingers in your hair, grip just edging on firm— you understand the tacit implication of his action and surrender control to him, skimming your hands over his hip bones and around to his ass. 

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t stared at his behind a thousand times, his thick thighs and his round ass, and it feels even better under your hands than you thought. You dip your fingers under the waistband of his briefs and into the soft flesh underneath it, digging your fingernails in before pulling the underwear down so you expose Jimin to the night air. His cock bobs as it comes free of the fabric, as perfect as the rest of him, flushed red head shining with precum. 

Maybe you have a bit of an oral fixation and love giving head, or maybe Jimin’s cock is impossible to resist: all you know is that you need to taste him. Your mouth falls open and you let your tongue rest on your bottom lip for just a moment before you suck the head of his cock into your mouth. He makes the prettiest noise, his fingers tightening against your scalp as you tongue at the slit and lap up the precum that’s gathered there, salt and warmth bursting across your taste buds. Your hands aren’t idle, either, touching the parts of his cock that aren’t in your mouth, fingers on his shaft and around his balls. 

You run your mouth along the side of his length, flicking your tongue and dragging it across a vein, watching Jimin the whole time. He’s staring at you, the way you use your spit-slick lips to press kisses along his cock, the tip, drinking down every drip of precum that beads there, tonguing the sensitive spot just under the head where it meets the shaft. 

Saliva is filling your mouth, mingling with the taste of Jimin on your tongue, and you swallow him back down. You relax your jaw and lower your head, taking Jimin down inch by inch, the weight of his cock heavy in your mouth; you continue to roll his balls in your hand while you use the other to grip what little’s not in your mouth. Jimin’s eyes are wide as he watches how you skilfully swallow him down until you can feel him at the back of your throat, breathing through your nose, and then you start to rapidly bob your head.

“Oh, fuck!” Jimin’s hips jump and you almost gag when his cock thrusts into your throat, off rhythm to how you’re moving, but you’re nothing if not a trooper and recover quickly.  He’s not the biggest you’ve ever had but that just means that you can swallow most of him down, deepthroating him, noises lewd as saliva drips past your lips and onto your chin. You’ve never been afraid to get dirty, and seeing the way Jimin is quickly losing control makes it all the better; you feel his balls tightening in your hand and you can see how his face is twisting, his brows furrowed and his lips falling open as he breathes through his mouth, thrusting forwards in time with the bobbing of your head. You desperately chase that, matching his rhythm as he speeds up; you want to wreck him. 

His fingers dig into your scalp. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, and you just flick him a glance through your lashes as you swallow particularly loudly and start to go faster, turning your focus to his head, using a hand to twist around his shaft and jerk off his length. His hips drive forward one more time before he cries out, and you can feel how his cock twitches as he cums into your mouth, hot and salty; you suck down each wave of cum, lips tight around him as your hand continues to milk him, grip firm, until he’s twitching from oversensitivity and pulling you off him with the fingers in your hair.

You’re still holding onto his softening length. He looks fucked out, pupils blown, a pink flush down his neck, and he’s panting almost as hard as you are; he watches as you lick your lips, and you feel how his dick gives a half-hearted twitch in your hands, although his face twists a little into a pained expression. “You’re unbelievable,” Jimin says, and you let out a little laugh, pleased.

“And your dick is spectacular,” you say. Your voice is a little hoarse, but god, that was worth it and you would do it again. You’d suck Park Jimin’s cock until you lost your voice if he’d let you. You lift the fabric of your shirt to wipe your chin and mouth, cleaning the saliva that’s gathered and then turn your attention back to the man, hand gentle in your hair as he’s been watching you.

You lift his briefs and jeans for him, standing up and brushing your knees off before you tuck his shirt back in and then do up his zip and buckle his belt, smoothing his outfit back into place. You’re looking down at your hands as you do this, and so you don’t see the way Jimin is looking at you with something akin to affection. “I know a lot of guys don’t like dick mouth,” you say, flicking your eyes up. “But—”

Jimin’s kissing you before you can finish your sentence. You muffle a noise of surprise and kiss him back, shivering when he licks into your mouth, running his tongue across your teeth and over your lips. When you pull back, you end up giggling a little, running a finger under his chin and then tapping his swollen lips. “I was about to say, I still have my water, but I guess that doesn’t matter now, huh?”

You still reach for your drink, lifting the can from where it’s remained steady on the car, filling your mouth with the sweet taste of peach and fizz as you swish it around and then swallow. Jimin watches as you do and then reaches for the can himself— you tip it against his lips and let him finish the rest, watching the way his Adam's apple bobs, and tilt your head to kiss it as it does. He shivers, and you nose at his neck before sucking the skin so that you'll leave a mark on him, too. A reminder of you. He smells so nice, soft orange and something floral, maybe, subtle and light; you really like all these little details about Jimin, how he’s not brash at all, but rather, elegant and understated— and yet still undeniably powerful in his own way. 

You both startle when you hear someone calling out your name, surprisingly nearby. It sounds like they’re coming right in your direction, just around the corner, and there’s only two people who know where you like to park—

“Y/n! I’ve been looking everywhere for y- oh.” Jungkook literally freezes mid step, one foot in the air, blinking at how you and Jimin are standing flush with each other, Jimin’s stance wide so you can stand between his legs, while his hands are resting on your waist. You can see the cogs in Jungkook's mind working, and he puts his foot down in slow-mo as he slowly starts to smile. "Oh, didn't mean to interrupt, don't mind me," he says with a shit eating grin.

"It's okay," Jimin says. "I should go."

You can't help but pout. "So soon? Kookie can leave."

Jimin seems amused, but much to your surprise he indulges you with a small kiss; you didn't think he'd be so forward when someone else was watching. “I'll see you at the next race, sweet thing,” he murmurs, acting as if Jungkook isn't there.

“If you win again, I'll do something nice for you,” you say, and he laughs.

“And if you win?”

“Then you have to do something nice for me. Equal exchange, darling.”

Jimin just smiles. “Sounds like an agreement.”

He leaves with a small wave, and even flicks a wink at Jungkook as he goes past, the taller man watching him go. As soon as Jimin is out of sight your friend rounds on you with a I Knew It expression on his face.

“Yeah, okay, you were right,” you say, lifting a hand to cut him off before he can say anything. “You should just feel glad you hadn't turned up earlier. I think you might have seen some things you would regret.”

“That's gross,” Jungkook says, though he sounds cheerful. He loves being proven right. Brat. “You’d better not start letting him win, though.”

You snort. “Please, as if I would. The race is part of the foreplay.”

“That’s gross,” Jungkook says again. This time he sounds like he means it, and you laugh.

--

“There are way too many people here today,” Taehyung says. You can’t help but agree.

“They need to back off before I start swinging,” you mutter. Jungkook grabs your shoulder and squeezes it.

“We’ve got you,” he says, and you relax.

The multi-level car park in Yongsan is packed to the gills with people, faces in the crowd you know you’ve never seen; you’ve never raced here before and you’re not sure how word got out to so many people, but they’re clearly not familiar with the unspoken etiquette of the circuit and people keep trying to approach your goddamn car. You’ll allow it after a race, people rushing up to congratulate or whatever, but right now you’re grateful to have Jungkook and Taehyung warding people off while you staunchly ignore the wolf whistles aimed in your direction. You're too uncomfortable to play up to it today.

There are a lot of really tweaked out cars here. There’s even another American car, an electric blue Mustang that’s really beautiful, but you wonder at the choice of such a long pony car in the tight corners of an indoor car park.

“At least the prize money will be good?” Taehyung hazards. He’s not wrong— the prize money is a few hundred thousand won higher than normal, probably reflecting the more luxurious district that you’re racing in today. You wonder if that’s why Seokjin organised it here, for more exposure, more cash. The truth is, though, there are more important things that you want to win tonight. On that note—

“Hi, sweet thing,” Jimin says from behind you, and you turn around.

“Jiminie,” you sigh, relieved. Under his jacket his shirt is loose, material tastefully flimsy, and you can’t help but feel smug at the blossoms of colour over his pale neck and across his clavicle, tacit reminders of the race before last when he’d edged ahead of you just before the finish line. The pleats of your skirt cover your upper legs, but Jimin has already seen the similar blooms he’d left on your inner thighs, drawing out the noises you’d made as he’d eaten you out on the hood of his Nissan after your last win. “God, you look good.”

He smiles. “You do too, baby.”

You already feel more relaxed upon seeing him, warmth bursting through your chest at the pet names. “It’s so busy today.” There’s a little whine in your voice as you complain to Jimin and he crooks you a smile, indulgent.

“Just keep your eyes on me, ignore everyone else.”

“That’s like telling the sun to shine, it’s going to happen whether you say it or not,” you scoff. Jimin gives you that smile that he reserves for you, that only you can read because no one else is as good at deciphering his expressions as you are— flattered, bashful, pleased. It’s small, subdued because of the people around you, but you’ll make sure to make him smile like that again later when the two of you are alone together. You melt a little and try not to overthink how quickly Jimin has wormed his way inside your heart; at the end of the day, despite how many times you’ve touched him with your mouth and your hands, you’re still rivals. (Even if that line seems to be growing ever more blurred as time goes on.)

“So when’s the wedding?” Jungkook asks once Jimin’s out of earshot.

“It’s not like that, it’s just a physical thing,” you say. 

“Riiiiiiiiiiight.” Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“He really likes you, you know,” Taehyung mentions conversationally. “Yoongi says he talks about you a lot.”

“Almost as much as she talks about him?” Jungkook looks at you knowingly, and you pout at them both.

“Leave me alone, you know I’m a delicate flower,” you say, which makes them laugh. You don’t talk about Jimin that much, no matter what Jungkook says.

Your eyebrows raise when you find out who you’re racing tonight. They’ve put you up against someone you don’t recognise or know the name of, the driver of the Mustang, it turns out, the Yongsan crowd wanting to see how both American cars will fare against each other. Your Pontiac is a lot smaller, nippier, but you have no idea what’s under the hood of the other car— although you have to admit the matching blue LEDs that are shining out under the Mustang and from its headlights are pretty, a lot more dramatic than your unadorned Solstice. But you’ve never been showy, and theatrical prettiness means nothing when you’re racing. It’s down to mechanics and skill, not aesthetic. (Besides, your car is beautiful enough that she doesn’t need flashy additions to draw the eye.)

You catch sight of Jimin in your rearview mirror just as you’ve finished strapping yourself in. He’s a point of stillness in the heaving crowd that’s pressing in on the start of the race from all sides, and you see how his eyes crinkle as he smiles and mouths good luck. You rev your engine, finding yourself smiling back before you look over at the driver of the Mustang, who has a cocky grin on his face.

“I’m going to eat you alive,” he says, and you just smile beatifically while batting your eyelashes.

“Big words for such a small man,” you reply, and you see how his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, white knuckled. “Ooh, did that make you mad? Would you rather I pretended to be worried? Who even are you, anyway?”

“I’m going to make you regret saying that,” he snarls, and you laugh.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” you say, winking at him before your window rises and cuts him off.

The second the race begins you slam down on your accelerator, Solstice leaping forward as the Mustang screeches to life beside you. He’s a reckless driver, slamming into turns with too much speed and relying on the heavier weight of his car to keep him steady; you’re having to drive cautiously, swerving away from him when he seems to get too close to you, which happens more often than you like. It almost seems intentional, like he’s trying to take you out, and you grit your teeth as you slide into another turn, watching as he goes wide and sends safety cones scattering as his car swings into them.

It’s not hard to pull out ahead. You pop your handbrake as you approach the spiral ramp up to the final level and your Solstice curls into the rising turn with ease, the shortness of your car meaning that you can soar through the tightness of the walls without scraping along the sides. You emerge onto the rooftop to a yelling crowd and pump your throttle, turning your wheel so you arc out and slide to a smooth stop.

The Mustang appears moments after, though you’re being swarmed by the crowd and almost don’t notice. Thankfully Jungkook and Taehyung are the first to reach you, as normal, a fact which you’re grateful for moments later when the Mustang driver shoves his way through the crowd and makes a direct beeline for you.

You’ve been drifting for a long time, and you’ve experienced your fair share of abuse and bitterness from people who’ve lost against you, but you’ve been around long enough and built up enough of a reputation that you avoid most of it nowadays. The Mustang driver, however, looks furious, apoplectic with rage, and you don’t know what’s going through his head as he approaches you, but it can’t be anything good. You instinctively reach out for the person closest to you— Taehyung— who starts to turn, and Jungkook has noticed him too, already moving to interpose himself.

“Get out of my way,” the Mustang driver barks. “That bitch is mine.”

“Back off,” Jungkook snarls. You’ve never heard him sound like this before, this level of ferocity, eyes wild. “Take one step closer and I’ll make you fucking regret it.”

Taehyung also steps in front of you. There’s a moment where you wonder if you could have avoided this— if you hadn’t taunted him at the beginning, maybe?— but Taehyung’s hand squeezes yours reassuringly, and you realise it probably would have panned out like this anyway. Some people just hate to lose. You catch sight of Jimin at the front of the crowd, staring at you with concern, but Yoongi’s got a hold of him, fingers wrapped tight around his wrist as he holds him in place.

“What are you, her little bitch boy?” The Mustang driver barks at Jungkook. “Are you her little fuckbuddy, huh?”

Jungkook has a black belt in Taekwondo and he’s recently started boxing, too, on top of his general gym rat lifestyle, muscles visible under the tattoos that adorn his arms. Jungkook is literally the worst person you could ever want to get into a fight against; he’s sweet and lovely but he won’t take things lying down, especially if it’s one of his friends being threatened. You see how Jungkook’s shoulders go stiff, and you know you’re seconds away from a physical altercation— the onlookers are making no moves to intervene, and instead are fumbling for their phones to film it— but then Hoseok is there, sliding between them, fingers touching Jungkook’s rising hand.

“Guys, guys, guys,” he laughs breezily, as if he isn’t in the firing line right now. “What’s the hold up? I’m waiting for my turn to race but it seems like the crowd is all here rather than at the starting line.”

“I have some things to say to her,” the Mustang driver says, pointing at you. “And this asshole is in my way.”

Jungkook’s lip curls back from his teeth, but before he can say anything, Hoseok laughs again. “Is that what this is about? Is she really worth your time and energy? If you start a fight, you’ll be banned from the circuit.”

You don’t catch the rest of what Hoseok says, Taehyung turning you away from them and hustling you to your car. “We’ll deal with this, don’t worry,” he says, voice low as he opens your door for you. “I’ll speak to Seokjin and make sure this guy gets dealt with, but for now it’s probably a good idea to get out of here.”

Your eyes flicker over to where the guys are still standing— Jungkook still looks tense, even if it seems like Hoseok is doing his best to smooth things over, casual and at ease. You have no doubt that this is the last time you’ll see the Mustang driver, as confrontational and aggressive as he is, but you still don’t like how genuinely useless you feel right now.  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Taehyung says. “Go on. I promise I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

You relent and do as you’re told. “I’m going to Namsan,” you tell him, and he nods in understanding.

You catch Jimin’s eye in your rearview as you gun your engine and leave, and you know without a doubt that he’ll come find you later. The drive to Namsan is a familiar one, although you don’t drift or speed and instead you take your time; you roll to a quiet stop once you reach your destination, rough dirt underfoot as you step out of your car, staring at the panorama of downtown Seoul. You don’t know how long you’ve been reclining against your car and drinking down the sight of the city lights below you when you register the sound of Jimin’s deep exhaust rumbling up the mountain road, the sound of his Skyline as familiar to you as your Pontiac by this point, turning your head to see him pull into the deserted lay-by beside you.

“You found me,” you say by way of greeting. Jimin doesn’t even shut his door and immediately makes his way over to you and cups your face in his hands. You relax into his touch, letting your eyes slip shut as he brushes a thumb over your cheek.

“Tae told me where you’d be,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You smile lazily, eyes slowly opening. Jimin is filling your vision, surrounded by the twinkling lights of Seoul below and the dark night sky above, and he’s still the most beautiful thing you can see. “It’s not the first time I’ve had an asshole get angry at me, but he’s definitely the most aggressive I’ve ever experienced.” A frown mars Jimin’s features, and you lift one of your hands to smooth out the lines in his brow. “It’s okay. I’m grateful that I have the boys to look after me. And you, too.”

Jimin’s frown fades, but he still looks unhappy. “I’m sorry,” he says, and you blink.

“For what?”

“For not being able to do more. I just stood there and watched.”

You smile gently. “You didn’t have to get involved, Jimin,” you say. “I didn’t expect you to do anything.”

You mean this in a nice way but Jimin’s face goes hard. You’re about to ask if you said something wrong when he cuts you off by kissing you fiercely, and you have to grab his shoulders to keep yourself to tipping backwards on the Pontiac’s hood. Jimin’s hands slide down your waist and he cups your ass before he lifts you; you squeal in surprise and latch onto him, curling your arms and legs around him so he doesn’t drop you.

Jimin might look lithe, but you’ve seen his bare arms and chest often enough to know of the muscle power he has. He walks the two of you to his car, kissing you as he does and your eyes widen as you realise he’s about to try and manoeuvre you both in through the open door while still holding onto you. He makes a noise against your lips as you pull away from the kiss.

“Jimin, put me down for a second,” you say.

“I don’t want to stop touching you.” He noses at your neck, and you shiver.

“If you drop me I’ll never forgive you,” you murmur, and he relents, careful as he sets you down, digging his fingers hard into your ass before he lets go. You’ve barely caught your balance before Jimin slides into his seat, kicking the bar under the chair to send it as far back as possible.

“Get in,” he says, and you instantly comply, climbing into his lap before he slams the door shut. It’s cramped like this but neither of you care, Jimin capturing your lips again as you grind against him, the fabric of your skirt rubbing over his jeans— you’ve started to wear skirts and dresses more often for the ease of access it offers Jimin once a race is over.

“Someone seems a little desperate today.” You mean to sound teasing but you’re too breathless to do so. “You want me to suck your dick that badly?”

“No,” Jimin answers, and the movement of your hips stutters a little as you react with confusion, but then— “I’m going to fuck you tonight, sweet thing,” he continues, and a moan slips unbidden from your lips. The two of you haven’t fucked yet, never going further than using your hands and mouths, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t imagined Jimin’s cock inside you instead of just his fingers and tongue. “Does my baby like the sound of that?”

“Please,” you say. “God, please, Jimin, I want it so bad, want you to fuck me.”

One thing you’ve learned about Jimin is that he likes it when you’re desperate. He loves to edge you, watch you squirm, the power of your pleasure entirely in his hands, but you know how to play with him, too— know how to beg the way he likes it so that he gives you what you want. His pupils dilate as he listens to you plead and you can feel how hard he’s growing beneath you. He slides his hands under your jacket and over your shoulders, helping you slide it off, although it almost gets tangled over the steering wheel as you wriggle in his lap.

“This is so clumsy,” you giggle, and Jimin laughs too as you both struggle to throw the leather jacket onto the passenger seat, but then he grabs your hips and grinds up against your clothed heat and you gasp. “Oh, fuck. Take that damn shirt off, I want to see you too.”

It’s fumbled and chaotic but the two of you end up shedding your upper layer of clothes, shirts cast aside and forgotten. Jimin helps unclasp your bra, kissing the swell of your breasts before the garment drops and is thrown aside too, Jimin taking the opportunity to dip his head and lick one of your nipples. You gasp again and grab at his hair, grip tightening as he runs his tongue over the hardening bud while circling the other with a fingertip. He keeps changing his attention between them, sucking and licking them until you’re a panting, writhing mess in his lap, lips moving so perfectly against your skin.

“Jimin, please,” you whisper, running your hands over all the bare skin you can touch. “I want to feel you.”

It takes less effort than you’d thought as you crane your body upwards to give Jimin space to shove his jeans and underwear down. His cock is hard, lying against his stomach and smearing precum against his skin as he leans back in the chair. You spit into your palm before taking the length in your hand; a familiar weight by now, the curve of him so perfect in your palm, and you shiver in anticipation. Jimin jolts as you pump him to full hardness, running your thumb over the slit of his cock and gathering the wetness there before spreading it over the rest of him, twisting your wrist as you let your hand rise and fall. 

“Fuck,” Jimin swears, grip on your hips so tight it’s almost bruising. You’re still in your skirt and panties, but somehow it seems dirtier like this than if you’d been fully naked; Jimin’s hand slips under your skirt and pushes the material of your panties aside, revealing your core to him, and you shudder when he drags a finger up your slit, feeling the wetness that’s gathered around your opening. His eyes are hungry. “Always so wet for me.”

You drag your hips forward into his touch, trembling when you feel the press of his fingers over your clit. “Always want you,” you breathe. “Please, I want your cock in me so bad—”

He silences you with a kiss, tongue slick and wet in your mouth, and you lean into it, hand tightening around his length as you move to guide it into you. He stops you with firm hands, one on your waist and the other bracing your inner thigh, and you whine against his lips. “Jimin, Jiminie, I need you.”

“Hold on,” he says, but you can hear the edge to his voice, how he doesn’t want to stop either. “I just— condom—”

“I’m clean,” you say, legs trembling as you continue to hold your position above him, muscles screaming at you to just drop down and let Jimin’s cock fill you up the way you want, but you stay steady. “I got tested after I broke up with my ex— and I’m still on the pill— fuck, Jimin, wanna feel you fill me up.”

Jimin’s eyes are blown, swallowing the dark brown of his irises. The hand on your inner thigh moves and he plunges two fingers into you and you suck in air, your body opening up for him as he presses deep into your inner walls. One thing you’ve discovered over the months is that Jimin reverts to his Busan dialect when he’s turned on, his voice a surprisingly deep drawl that makes you shiver. “Baby wants my cum, hm?”

Your head drops forward and you pant against his shoulder, body jolting each time he curls his fingers against your sweet spot just the way you like it. “Yes, I want it,” you say, and then gasp as he pushes another finger in, hard and fast, stretching you; you’re so turned on and wet that it slips in easily. “Jimin, please.”

Normally you’re certain he’d drag this out longer but he seems as desperate as you, pulling his fingers out of you in one deft motion that has your pussy clenching around the sudden emptiness. He shifts his hands to your waist, holding you tight, and you use one of your hands to keep the material of your sodden panties out of the way as you hold onto his cock with the other, guiding the tip towards your entrance. Jimin lets you down slowly, his head breaching you first and stretching you so well; you tip your head back and arch your spine as you feel him slowly splitting you open, thicker than his fingers as you lower down inch by glorious inch until your hips are flush and you’ve taken him as deep as you can.

Jimin rolls his hips upwards and your hands fly to his shoulders for balance as you clench around him. He hisses. “You’re so tight, sweet thing,” he says, and you grind down against him, moving your hips in little circular motions that has both of you gasping. You bite your lip as Jimin lifts you back up, just as slow as before, and you revel in the sensation of his cock dragging against your inner walls, sensations electric inside you. 

You keep this languid pace for a while, wet and slick, Jimin sucking more marks into your neck as you drag your nails down his chest before you decide to switch things up— you catch Jimin off guard, his hands loose around your waist now, and drop your hips down. The air is punched out of your lungs at the way Jimin’s cock thrusts into you and fills you up all at once, so deep and full, a similar moan ripped out of his lips before his eyes go dark.

“So that’s the game you want to play,” he says. You grin mischievously as you tilt your hips so that your clit rubs against him, shuddering as your toes curl at the pleasure shooting through you.

“You said you’d always make me come first,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him innocently, as if you’re not grinding down his cock. “I thought I’d help you out.”

A thrill sparks through you at Jimin’s expression. He doesn’t respond with words and instead he tightens his grip around your waist before he pulls you almost entirely off his cock, the flushed head just touching your entrance as you squirm in his hold. You wonder if he’s going to keep teasing you but then his hips buck upwards as he pulls you down, and you cry out as he drives into you, setting an unforgiving pace as he begins to drill into you. The car starts to rock with his sharp motions, filled with the sounds of your gasps and moans as you ride him, the slap of skin on skin as you edge closer and closer to your orgasm— but when you tilt your face back and your eyes slip shut one of his hands grips your chin and pulls your head forward.

“Eyes on me.” He’s slowed his ruthless pace, staring into your eyes as he rolls his hips fluidly against yours. “I want to look at me when you cum around my cock.”

“J-Jimin,” you hiccup, and he continues to watch your face as he thrusts into you again— your mouth falls open as your body jolts forward in his lap, but you keep your eyes locked on his. “Jimin, I’m so close,” you say, and he responds with a particularly hard drive upwards. One of your hands drops from his shoulder to rub at your clit, fingers desperate as you circle the bundle of nerves in time with the motion of Jimin’s hips, and you know you’re so close to your peak— a few more presses of his cock into you and you’re gone, pleasure sparking through you as you cum and tighten around him, walls rippling against his cock. You cry out, body tensing as you lean into the sensation, shuddering at how much wetter you grow, flushing out of you onto Jimin’s still-hard erection.

Your eyes widen when he doesn’t stop moving. You’re being thrown into oversensitivity, writhing as Jimin continues to pump his hard length into you, but he knows you can take it, drawing multiple orgasms out of you with his fingers and tongue; your hand falls away from your sensitive pearl as Jimin keeps you bouncing in his lap, each deep push into you more than enough to draw out the pleasure from your first orgasm, sobbing in a gasping breath each time he breaches you again. You do your best to match his pace, and you can tell that he’s close, his rhythm starting to falter as the noises slipping past his lips grow more guttural. All his usual sophistication is completely gone as he chases his own release, but he’s still elegant, still gorgeous— it’s the shimmer of sweat at his temples from his exertions and the growing heat in the car, the motion of his body as he rolls his hips, the beautiful dark of his eyes and the kiss-swollen flush to his already full lips. Park Jimin is so utterly overwhelming, and somehow, in some way, he’s yours, and you’re blindsided by your second orgasm, the realisation throwing you into more waves of pleasure as your body goes tense again and you grind down into Jimin with a drawn out moan.

Jimin’s hips stutter. He’s clearly as surprised as you at the fact you’ve come again so soon, but then his eyes fall shut as he grits his teeth after one particularly tight clench of your pussy and he’s cumming too. He empties himself inside you, hot cum painting your insides with each twitch of his cock as you press closer to him, bodies locked together. He chases each wave of his cum with a thrust, pushing as deep into you as he can,  the last, weaker ripples of your own orgasm drawing the evidence of his pleasure further inside you until he finally stills, hips flush.

You’re both panting as you come down from your highs, your muscles protesting in the uncomfortable position you’re keeping them in, as cramped as you are- but you don’t want to separate from Jimin, and he seems to feel the same, grip sliding from your waist to circle his arms around you and pull you impossibly closer. He keeps you close as he helps lift you upwards, his cock sliding out of you; you clench as tight as you can but not before a dribble of his cum drips out of you and runs down his softening length, and you shiver at the sensation of that warmth as Jimin sets you gently back down in his lap before settling against you.

His head is nestled against your chest, hair tickling your neck and under your chin. All the lust from your fucking feels like it’s slowly ebbing away, and you’re left with tenderness instead, your fingers scratching lightly through the shorter hair at the nape of Jimin’s neck in a manner that’s more affectionate than it probably should be; this is just physical, it’s all physical, but you like Jimin so much that you can’t help but let that adoration shine through right now. If he says anything about it afterwards you can just blame it on the post orgasm glow. It’s fine. This is fine. He doesn’t need to know.

Eventually Jimin pulls his head away and you lean back so that he can look up at you. You’re stunned by how unguarded his expression is, how warm his eyes are. (He looks how you feel.)

“My baby,” he murmurs, and you smile.

“Jiminie.” A giggle slips out of you as Jimin’s hands cup your face, touch so light it’s ticklish. “Say it again.”

“My baby,” he repeats, fond, but then the warmth fades from his face and his expression becomes serious. “Y/n. Do you want this?”

“Hm?” You make a little noise of confusion. “Want what? You? Of course. Isn’t that obvious? I thought the fact that we just fucked would have been a giveaway.”

Normally he would have laughed at this, you know he would have, but his face stays level. He draws a thumb down the side of your face, and you turn into the touch. “Is that all you want? Just to fuck?”

Your eyes widen as they flick over his face, the implication behind his words. “What?”

“Do you know how much it killed me to watch Hoseok step in for you? It should have been me.” Jimin’s frowning, and you hate that expression, hate the anger on his face that he has directed towards himself. “I don’t want to stand by and pretend like you don’t mean anything to me. I don’t want to have to keep sneaking around and acting like I don’t want you. I want everyone to know that you’re mine and I’m yours, that they shouldn’t dare to try and put their hands on you.”

“Jimin,” you breathe. “Are you… are you saying you want to make this official? You want to be my boyfriend?” You run a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face, looking him in the eye even though you feel oddly vulnerable. “You want that?”

“Yes.” He lets you continue to fiddle with his hair, rhythmically combing it away from his forehead with your fingers. “Do you?”

You sigh as you go boneless against him. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more,” you admit, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, uncharacteristically shy. “I think I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you, even though I thought you were a threat.”

Jimin stills at your confession and then laughs. “Because I’m so gorgeous?”

“And so humble, too,” you say, before pulling back to kiss his forehead, and then his nose, and then his lips. He smiles so wide his eyes squeeze shut. “Oh, keep smiling like that, you’re so cute when you smile like that.”

He keeps smiling like that as you kiss him again. He’s still smiling once you’ve redressed, even though you keep whining about your leg muscles cramping from how you’ve been curled into his lap; you lean against the door as you sit in his passenger seat and have your legs kicked over the centre console of his car so that he can massage your thighs, so maybe you’re exaggerating your complaints so that Jimin keeps his hands on you, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “I’ve been watching you from the very beginning, too,” Jimin says, and you kick your foot lightly in his grasp.

“That’s rivalry, babe,” you tease, and giggle when he catches your foot and holds it still. “Of course you’ve been watching me, you had to know what the competition was up to.”

“I wanted to bend you over the hood of your pretty little car from the second I heard you open that smart mouth of yours,” he says, and looks pleased when he feels how you shiver under his touch.

“You can do that whenever you’d like, now,” you say. You draw your legs back so that you can shift forwards and lean over the centre console, putting your fingers under Jimin’s chin so that you can plant a small kiss on his lips. “Boyfriend privileges.”

If someone had told you, back when you’d first met Park Jimin, that you’d end up like this, you would have laughed in their face and called them ridiculous. But now when he smiles up at you in a way that’s utterly open and sweet, completely at odds to how he presents himself on the circuit, it just feels natural. Like you’ve been drifting towards this moment from the second you’d locked eyes and shaken hands, rivals to lovers to partners, blending all those different facets into one; like it was inevitable from the start.

“Does that mean I can kiss you in public?” Jimin asks, and you kiss him again, letting it linger this time, sucking his plush bottom lip into your mouth and nipping lightly at it before pulling your head back.

“Baby, I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

--

The next time you meet at Namsan, Jimin’s dyed his hair. It’s no longer honey blond, and instead it’s baby pink, a soft pastel shade that of course looks beautiful on him, not to mention—

“You dyed your hair the same colour as my jacket,” you say, voice faint.

“Surprise, sweet thing.” This time when Jimin smiles it’s wide and open, ignoring the fact you’re about to race each other, ignoring the other drivers on the track, ignoring the crowd of onlookers; he only has eyes for you. “Do you like it?”

“Do I like— Park Jimin, I’m going to fuck your brains out after this race is over,” you say. “But right now I demand that you kiss me before I lose my mind.”

You end up kissing him against the side of your Pontiac, sucking on his tongue in a way that’s utterly lewd and scandalous, neither of you paying attention to shocked reactions it causes.

“Get a room,” Jungkook hollers, and Jimin laughs into your mouth as you flip him the bird.

--

[you can read the second part here!]

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Hunting Palismans" From The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Today, I present to you reason #4,693 for why The Owl House is the best thing at the moment: It's the perfect balance of serialized storytelling with an episodic format. The story always moves forward with an exact order for how episodes should be watched, but each episode still functions as its own standalone tale. Having prior knowledge of what happened before adds more to the experience, but you can still watch whatever you want and still have an enjoyable time. Take "Hunting Palismans," for example. It adds so much more to the overarching narrative while slightly continuing other threads. But it's still something you can watch as is without remembering the past or wondering about the future.

However, to properly explain how requires spoilers. I wasn't kidding when I say that this episode adds so much, so you're going to want to be wary of that when you continue reading.

With that said, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Coven Heads Meeting: We already saw these fellow schmucks in the trailer, but that doesn't take away how cool they are! It's not explicitly stated which head belongs to which coven, but you can already tell who goes where just from their designs alone. And I love that. I love that just by showing us some excellent character designs, anybody with half a brain can already figure out the particular type of magic each Coven Head specializes in. It's a perfect example of the show-don't-tell level of storytelling that is always at its best through animation, and I'm all for it because of it.

What the Day of Unity is: Several fans, myself included, have already speculated that the Day of Unity was that Emperor Belos planned to combine the human world with the Boiling Isles and rule it all with an iron fist. That being said, figuring it out is one thing, but being told that it's true is a whole different level pants-s**ting horror that I AM NOT READY FOR! Even when it's going to happen, I can assure you that I will not be prepared to witness it ...and I am scared of when it does.

Belos Body Horror: ...Disney, I was already scared s**tless of this guy. I DO NOT NEED THIS!

That being said, seeing Belos do...whatever the f**k that was, helps explain further why he needs the magic in palismans. I always assumed because it's like fuel for a car, giving him the power he needs. Now, even though the answer is more apparent, there are still some questions to be had. Is he cursed, and the magic keeps it at bay like Eda's potions? Or did he experiment with the wrong type of magic, and the palismans keep him stable? Only the future can say for sure...and I'm also not prepared for the answers from that either.

Golden Guard is Belos’ Nephew: Gosh dangit, THE INTRO HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET, AND THIS EPISODE IS ALREADY GIVING SO MUCH!

But, yeah, the most powerful witch on the Isles is apparently Golden Boy's Grunkle Belos. That very knowledge is incredibly interesting to discuss while presenting possibilities for future narratives. I don't know about you, but I see the Golden Guard going down the path of Zuko, learning that the magic of friendship is worth much more than whatever power he gains from being Belos' nephew. And possibly earning his uncle's love seeing how he's the only family he has. It's a situation that's vastly different from Amity's because even when she defies her parents, she'll still have Edric and Emira at the end of the day. For Golden Guard, knowing that he lost a great family to wild magic, the inclination to go against Belos is a lot weaker due to him being all he has left.

Oh, and also, Belos' family getting wiped out because of wild magic. Yeah, not only does that give the best type of motivation for Belos' distaste for it, but it also explains the Golden Guard's hesitance to use it. He's inclined to so he can save his uncle, sure. It's only the fact that he knows what happens with wild magic that causes some resistance...Also, we're less than a minute in, and I'm already getting all of this from one discussion between two characters.

HOW IS THIS SHOW SO GOOD?!

Intro Changes: It's about time too. It seems weird that the crew waited to change Eda and King's designs in the intro this late in the game, but it also tells me that Amity dying her hair lavender is the last huge change this season will present. Otherwise, why change the intro at all if you were going to alter Luz, Willow, and Gus' designs anyway? It just doesn't make sense to me.

Luz Keeping the Echo Mouse as a Pet: The fact that she keeps the most important creature in the world to her as a pet...it's...it's adorable, alright? And as we established several times, I cannot hate adorable things.

Don't judge me!

Amity Staying Home: There are two plausible ways why Amity didn't go to school that day. Either she's getting punished for dying her hair or because she's trying to avoid Luz so they won't talk about the you-know-what. Either could work and seem understandable to Luz, thus explaining why she admits how "that makes sense." Although, there is something to discuss in how Luz is curious as to where Amity is. Judging from the tone of her voice, it's pretty clear that she wants to talk about the little peck on the cheek and maybe get some confirmation as to what it means. Because there is no going back from that. You can explain away saying or doing something stupid, but you cannot un-kiss a cheek. That is a point of no return, and if Amity really is avoiding Luz because of it, that means it's up to our favorite weirdo to make the first move. As for what that may entail...we'll just have to wait and see.

Frewin: We get two bits of information here for the price of one reveal here. Knowing that Frewin is a palisman is shocking enough, but the knowledge that Bump is partially blind and needs Frewin to see? That is an intriguing piece of intel that I would have never expected to get revealed. This is reason #5,279 for what makes The Owl House so good. Even when the show presents information you wouldn't guess, it's all so interesting anyways that you can't help but go along with it.

Adopting Palismans: First of all, love the fact that the Bat Queen makes a return to provide a solution to the palisman trees being rare and solving her own problem regarding the discarded palismans. It's a situation where everyone wins in a way that is so clever that I can't help but admire it.

Second, the idea of students choosing to adopt palismans instead is cute. I'd say it gives further insight into who these characters are in how they say what they want to be, but there's nothing really new added that fans couldn't figure out from the get go. But I will say that it's pretty cool to know that these characters have official staffs now. Speaking of which, if you're upset that their palismans don't match up with your headcanons...grow up.

This was a cute and smartly written scene that should not be bogged down by whiney fans who can't accept a series doing something different from what they expect.

Little Rascal: I’d take a bullet for this bird. That is all.

Luz Being Uncertain of her Future: A lot of fans offer several ideas of what the future could look like for Luz. Will she stay in the Boiling Isles? In Connecticut? Or will she go back and forth? We don't know, but one question we rarely brought up is what does Luz want? More specifically, what does she want to do? After everything Luz went through, the adventures she's gone on, and the lessons learned, what is something that Luz wants her future to be? That's an answer she doesn't really figure out, and I'm genuinely ok with that being a question that's tabled for another day. Most kids who ask that question themselves aren't always going to find an answer after a short amount of time and sometimes even need to spend their lives trying to figure it out. So having it be something Luz has to consider and probably find out in a future episode is the smarter option, as it allows time for it to simmer in her own mind and provides more insight into her character. As stated several times in this episode, she doesn't think things through, so it's nice that the writers finally allowed her some time to wonder what's next when the adventure is over.

Luz Having to Improvise Without Paper Glyphs: You want to know what my favorite Spider-Man moments are (this is relevant. Trust me). My favorite moments are when Spidey's web-shooters run out of fluid, and he's forced to improvise with that big brain of his to find a solution. That's sort of what happens with Luz in "Hunting Palismans." She didn't bring her glyphs with her (why would she), so she's forced to use the environment around her to make new ones. Plus, Luz also flexes her knowledge of the Boiling Isles by mixing her glyphs with a magical plant (which Willow certainly told her about) so that she and the Golden Guard could knock out Kikimora's dragon. It's yet another showcase of her intelligence that a lot of fans are too keen to overlook. Unfortunate to see, too, because looking at how well Luz can craft the perfect solutions by fighting smarter, not harder, is a fantastic add-on to her personality. I love characters who win through their wits rather than their raw powers, and I once again hope more people will catch onto that aspect of her too.

Golden Guard Whistling the Theme: Look, I love it when a show acknowledges its own theme song, ok? Leave me alone.

Luz and the Golden Guard: This is one of those dynamics you didn't know you wanted until you have it. And now that I have it, I DEMAND MORE!

Seriously, seeing these two interact off of each other was a ton of fun to watch. When Luz and GG are initially at each other's throats, their threats and mockery towards one another aren't out of spiteful anger between two mortal enemies. It's more like...two siblings who get on each other's nerves yet are supposed to deal with one another. It's equally adorable and hilarious, and yes, I absolutely loved that they're forced to work together in this episode because of it.

Although, while the entertainment value is fantastic, it also adds more proof of why Luz is the best character in the series. She spends one night with this guy, and that's more than what she needed to make a difference with him. I wouldn't go so far as to say that they're buddies now, but Luz definitely sowed the seeds into his redemption. He's far from willing to join her side, but he still does something he rarely does with anyone else: He told her that his name is Hunter. And this is what Luz does. Through nearly every person she meets on the Boiling Isles, she always manages to change them for the better. It'll be a while before Hunter deflects from Belos, but if Amity proves anything, Luz has a way of sneaking into people's hearts. They just need to spend more time with one another, and I can't wait to see what happens next because of it.

Kikimora Wanting to Kill Hunter: This shows a lot about who Kikimora is, but it potentially proves just how dysfunctional the Emperor's Coven can be. If Kiki proves anything, the coven must be filled with people willing to backstab and cheat their way to get on Emperor Belos' good side. Just look at Lilith. She literally cursed her own sister just to get in and received all the rewards because of it. The Emperor's Coven may be the best choice for witches to do magic, but if you're surrounded by people you can't trust, then is it really worth it?

The Guards Not Knowing Who Hunter is: This helps add to how much of a big deal it is for Hunter to reveal his name to Luz. If people can't even recognize his face, there's a chance it means that he keeps his true identity a secret except for those in his inner circle.

And the coven guards brushing off his brand is more than believable to me. They may be aware that Belos' right hand is young, but teens will be teens. Anybody with enough artistic talent can fake a brand. So it isn't too far off for those two to think Hunter was just a kid pulling a prank.

Hunter is Powerless Without his Staff: Not much to say here. It's just some more neat insight into Hunter's character that makes me wonder if even Belos' magic is real magic.

But I will say this: The fact that Hunter comes from a lineage of powerless witches, well, who's to say that isn't because of a...certain ancestor?

(*Cough* Hunter is related to Philip *Cough*)

Hunter vs Kiki: A pretty well-animated fight scene that adds potential drama to the story for the future. Now that Kikimora knows that Hunter helped Luz escape with the palismans (albeit unwillingly), she may or may not hold that over his head when the time comes. Or, at the very least, decides to keep a closer eye on him whenever he makes a slip-up.

Eda and King Getting Luz her own Palisman Wood: These last two weeks have been severely lacking in the Eda and King department, but scenes like this more than make up for it. Those two have formed such a bond with Luz to the point where they would do the impossible if it meant she would feel better. It proves just how much of a family they all are and the lengths they would go for each other. After all, weirdos have to stick together.

Little Rascal going to Hunter: Hunter is right. That was surprising.

Given how much Little Rascal stuck by Luz, I was more than positive that she would be the one he chose. So seeing Little Rascal pick Hunter instead is a much nicer twist. There could be multiple reasons why, and I'm just going to leave that to the analyzers in this fandom to decide. Especially since the answer isn't really all that important.

So, instead, I'm going to go ahead and sit in the corner as I wOrRy AbOuT tHe DaY tHaT bElOs FiNdS lItTlE rAsCal!

IT'S GONNA HAPPEN! AND I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY, IF THE WRITERS KILL HIM, I WILL NOT BE HAPPY!

WHAT I DISLIKED

First, there's...um...

Well, there was this...

Ok, as much as I liked--No, that turned out well anyways...

…

...

...I've got nothing.

I, honest to goodness, have no complaints about "Hunting Palismans" Not even the tiniest of nitpicks I would usually ignore due to how well-executed everything else was.

It's all written fantastically to the point where it's...perfect.

IN CONCLUSION

"Hunting Palismans" is an easy A+. It introduces even more plot threads, gives insight into characters, and despite being essential to the story, it still manages to be a fun episode all on its own. And, I'd go so far as to say that it's one of the best, if not the best, episodes in the series. There's nothing bad about it, and that surprises me. I rarely find nothing bad to say about any story, even the ones I enjoy greatly. I'm sure there are some flaws that others would be more than happy to point out, but why bother hunting for the imperfections when I could accept that, for once, an episode is simply perfect.

(And that’s six hits in a row...THAT STINKER IS GOING TO HAPPEN! It hasn’t happened yet, BUT IT’S GOING TO HAPPEN! I CAN FEEL IT!)

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Return Home Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The date begins in a conference room, where a meeting has been going on for almost three hours

When LFG invested in an online video platform called SE, LFG held a press release stating that it was a strategic move for the international film and TV market

However, just within two years, SE found itself racking up billions of dollars in debt due to its poor project management

As such, people in the know have been secretly ridiculing Victor for making an error of judgement

Fortunately, LFG’s connections with the media prevented this information from leaking out

But it doesn’t change the fact that LFG messed up this time

Victor hasn’t slept in two days - he’s been poring through documents, project materials, and would sometimes sit in the conference room alone for several hours, forgetting to eat :

When Victor returns to the hotel, there are over a hundred unread notifications on his phone. 

He doesn’t pay attention to such information, but taps on the only pinned message amid the countless lists of prompts.

Unsurprisingly, it’s filled with insignificant idle talk, coupled with several different emoticons.

Victor loosens his tie slightly, reading through the messages from top to bottom. 

“I made an improved version of omurice. Want to try it?”

“What is Goldman talking about in his Moments - something about being angry and tired. Is the meeting not going smoothly?”

“Remember to eat...”

“And remember to sleep!”

Victor’s finger pauses at this line, and there’s a gentle emotion flowing in his eyes.

“The internet celebrity lawyer you mentioned the other time agreed to my invitation for an interview, so I’ll be rushing out the proposal this Saturday. Want to be a supervisor?”

Victor opens the dialog box. Once he sends an “ok”, the other party immediately responds with an emoticon of a winking cat. 

Thinking of the time right now, he arches his brows slightly. 

-

Nestled in my quilt, I’m just about to embark on a long speech regarding the weekend’s schedule, but the phone in my hand suddenly vibrates, surprising me. 

Victor: Did you not sleep, or did you wake up?

MC: Haha...

Victor: What are you laughing at? 

MC: It feels like that is something I often ask you. Why is it now your turn to ask me?

Victor: It’s only 5am now. 

MC: I didn’t get a reply from you, so I couldn’t sleep...

I turn over, changing to a more comfortable position against the corner of the quilt. I press the phone tightly to my ear. 

MC: What project are you busy with this time? Is it going smoothly? 

Victor: Smoothly. It’s still early, you can sleep for a while longer.

MC: ...I can’t really sleep now. Are you still coming back on Thursday as you said last time? 

Victor: Before Saturday. 

MC: It’s only Tuesday today... and the sun hasn’t come out yet. 

I hear Victor laugh, his low tone mixed with some tiredness.

Victor: You find it too late? 

MC: I wouldn’t dare to. If it weren’t something important, you wouldn’t delay returning. However... even if it’s because of work, you did go back on your word, so you have to promise me one thing. 

A deep and slow sigh enters my ear, revealing a faint sense of fatigue.

Victor: You can say it. 

MC: You have to eat, and you have to sleep.

The other end of the phone call grows silent for a few seconds. 

Victor: Mm, I promise you.

The misty morning light is on the curtains. In the midst of my quiet grogginess, I close my eyes, wanting to feel the frequency of his breaths. 

MC: ...it has been raining continuously in Paris these two days. 

Victor: It’s like that during this season. 

MC: Is... is it very cold...

Victor: No, it isn’t. 

My consciousness grows increasingly darker, but I can still clearly capture his voice in my bizarre dream world. 

Victor: [in the gentlest of gentle voices] Sleep if you’re tired. I’m hanging up. 

MC: N-not tired... don’t hang up...

Victor: You can’t even speak clearly, and you’re still unwilling to sleep?

MC: ...

I just need five more seconds to be clear-headed--

I let out a sound of agreement, unsure if I managed to say this aloud.

Very soon, only Victor’s long and steady breaths at my ear remain in my world. It’s very, very close. It’s a closeness that gives one a peace of mind. 

Victor: Are you asleep?

MC: ...

Victor: Sleep then.

Victor: ...

Victor: Sleep peacefully. 

-

On Saturday afternoon, I lift my head towards the wall clock for the nth time. When the needle points to the number ‘3′, I can no longer help myself, and give Victor a call. 

After the dial tone, the notification that the other party is unable to answer the call sounds. Before I can react, the doorbell rings. 

Victor is standing at the door and just about to put his phone back into his pocket. In a daze, I look towards at his empty hands. 

MC: Your luggage...

Victor: Goldman took them back. I still have to return to LFG tonight. 

As he speaks, he enters and changes his shoes in the hallway. After that, he walks straight into my bedroom.

Victor: What have you been doing these two days? 

He walks to the coffee table, picking up the messy outline I was working on for an interview. He takes a glance and then lifts the corners of his lips. 

Victor: You said you were working seriously for several days, but you just did a few outlines? 

MC: Don’t underestimate me! I’ve looked through quite a number of materials. Look!

I point at the stack of trending societal topics and legal-related books on the floor. 

MC: Preparatory work speeds up the actual process. Also, didn’t I recognise my inadequacies and ask you to be a supervisor? 

I hurriedly drag a chair to the coffee table and place a headrest on the back of it. 

MC: Please sit. I guarantee that from this second onwards, I’ll concentrate on the proposal. Before the sun sets, I’ll definitely have the first edition out. 

Victor can’t help but laugh. He hangs his coat on the clothes rack in the corner, then pulls the chair over to himself. After sitting down, he seems to recall something and lets out a faint sigh. 

Victor: Lend me your laptop for a while.

I hand him my notebook computer, and a thought flashes across my mind -- how could he not have brought a laptop out?

MC: Victor, when did you get infected by my scatterbrained habits? 

Victor: Only this time. I forgot to take it with me after leaving it in the backseat.

Victor avoids my teasing gaze. With his expression unchanged, he starts approving documents on the LFG intranet. 

Victor: The sun is setting in two hours. 

MC: Who knows - maybe the sun wouldn’t feel like going home today. 

I return to my seat, resting my chin on my palm while looking towards Victor. 

The light golden sunlight streams in from the window, slowly enveloping Victor. The quiet, warm rays of light are coupled with a calming woody scent, and are very pleasant. 

Victor doesn’t speak. His fingers tap against the desk from time to time. In this quiet room, the sound of our breathing is amplified.

After an inordinate amount of time, he finally lifts his eyes and meets mine.

Victor: Staring at me can help you finish your proposal?

MC: I’m not staring at you. I’m silently conceptualising ideas.

After my words are out, a short “ding” sounds.

MC: Wait for a moment~ 

In a flash, I rush to the kitchen and retrieve the aromatic cookies from the oven. After carefully placing them on a cooling rack, I bring it back to the room along with two cups of warm drinks. 

MC: Afternoon tea time!

Victor casts a glance at the cups and arches his brows slightly. Steam floats from the hot cup of milk, and strands of warmth merge with the sweetness in the house.

MC: Your dark circles are so deep, so don’t drink coffee, all right?  

Victor: I’m fine. 

I thought Victor meant that he wouldn’t drink this, but he holds up the cup after speaking. 

Once I sit down, I push the plate filled with cookies towards him. 

MC: Look at my new mold - isn’t it cute?

I point at the cookies, which are shaped like cats with different expressions on them. 

MC: This one is yawning, this one is full of grievances, this one has already fallen asleep, but I like this one the most. It keeps having an angry face. I called it “Qi Gu Gu”.

[Note: Names don’t translate well into English, so I left it as it is. The original name is 气鼓鼓, which means “seething”]

Victor’s eyes sweep towards my fingers. 

Victor: Looks like you. 

MC: Is that so?

I puff my cheeks, mimicking the cat on the cookie and squinting my eyes to look at Victor. 

As predicted, Victor ignores me. There is a measure of speechlessness in his eyes.

I laugh and bring “Qi Gu Gu” to his lips. 

MC: Give it a try? 

Victor takes a bite straight from my hand, then returns his gaze to the laptop. 

MC: Aren’t you going to evaluate it? 

He purses his lips slightly, and I can’t tell if he’s smiling or not. He leans forward a little, then finishes the remaining half of “Qi Gu Gu” in my hand. 

His warm lips brush against my fingertips, leaving behind a soft, lingering warmth. A fluffy, light, and sweet sense of happiness stirs up slowly in my heart. 

Contented, I sweep the crumbs off my hands and take up my pen again. 

Soon after, MC’s mind starts wandering to how fine the weather is

And how fine her man is 👀

He doesn’t show much emotion while working, and his expression looks as calm as always. But the deep look of concentration between his eyebrows is a little different from usual.

As for what exactly is different...

It’s probably how one just can’t look away.

Victor: It’s only been a few minutes. How many times have you lost focus? 

I hurriedly retract my gaze, pretending to be scribbling on the paper like an “obedient” student who got caught doing something improper by a teacher.

But my ideas have not been completely formulated, and I can’t think of anything to write. The only thing I can do is draw a small heart at the top right-hand corner of the paper. 

Sensing Victor’s lingering gaze on me, I continue scribbling until it becomes a solid heart, then attach a tilde at the end.

After pausing for a moment, I let out a soft sigh and lift my head slightly. 

Victor: Why are you sighing.

MC: ...I can’t help it.

Victor: Can’t help what? 

MC: Can’t help looking at you. 

I cross my arms together, changing to a more comfortable position and plopping onto the table. I tilt my head towards Victor. 

He lets out a barely audible laugh. Just as he’s about to speak, a familiar ringtone sounds from his pocket. 

Watching Victor pick up the call, my messy thoughts instantly vanish, and I feel slightly downcast.

Victor: The time now is...

While speaking, Victor looks at the bottom right corner of the laptop. After a slight pause, he looks at the phone. 

Victor: 4.30pm. Have them give me a reply by 8pm. 

His words are concise. After he hangs up, I ask him a little hesitantly. 

MC: Do you... have to go back to LFG now? 

Victor: I'm not leaving. 

While saying this, he sets his phone on silent mode and places it at the corner of the table. Meeting my hesitant gaze, there’s a sense of resignation in his calm eyes.

Victor: Your laptop is set to Paris’ timezone. 

I fail to understand the implication behind his words, so I just nod subconsciously. 

MC: Mm, it’s easier to tell the time like that. 

Victor doesn’t speak. He sweeps another glance at the laptop. At this moment, the system sends a report of the weather forecast in Paris over the next five days - there will be continuous rain every day.

He smiles faintly, then closes the laptop slowly.

Victor: ...you’re really becoming more and more dumb.

MC: ...yes yes yes, taking care of a dummy like me is really a bother for Mr CEO. 

I deliberately pout, but can’t help but smile along with Victor. I stand up and retrieve our two empty cups.

MC: I'll go wash the cups. Is there anything you want to eat?

Victor: No need. Are you treating me as you? 

I let out an indignant “hmph”, then turn around and head to the kitchen. 

I originally thought it would only take a few minutes to wash the two cups. But by the time I cleaned and tidied up the tools I used for baking earlier, half an hour has passed. 

When I return to the room, Victor is lying on the bed, my incomplete outline in his hand.

I soften my footsteps and walk over, leaning close to his ear and whispering:

MC: Victor, are you asleep? 

Victor doesn’t respond, but has a shallow intake of breath, his eyelashes quivering gently under the twilight. 

MC: Are you really sleeping or just pretending to sleep? 

Very lightly, I climb onto the bed, inching towards him.

MC: Victor? 

I call his name again softly, but he still does not respond. But the corners of his lips curl up slowly, revealing a smile.  

MC: You aren’t asleep, are you.

I lean one hand on the bed, and use my other hand to lift up a few strands of his hair. 

Looking at his smooth and sharp jawline, my fingertips unconsciously rub the tips of his hair. 

MC: ...have you been very tired recently?

Victor: No.

His words carry with them a certain sleepiness - perhaps he hasn’t had rest in a few days, so he gets drowsy once he relaxes just a little. 

MC: Didn’t you already look at my interview outline? Why are you looking at it again? 

Victor: To see what exactly you were scribbling. 

I think about that heart with its little tail, and am left speechless, as though I got caught having a bad idea. 

Victor: You specially got me here to supervise you, but you only wrote these few sentences the whole afternoon? 

MC: Yeah. Next time, I won’t ask you to be a supervisor! When you’re in front of me, my work efficiency takes a nose-dive. 

I reach out to take my notebook from his hand, then cover him with a blanket. Victor turns his head, his half-closed eyes meeting mine. 

It’s very rare for me to see such a burnt-out look in his eyes. Right now, I can only feel the emotions in my heart towards this person becoming a hundred times more tender. 

MC: Sleep for a while before going to LFG? I’ll wake you up at 7.30pm.

With the rigour of Victor’s schedule, several important meetings were cancelled at short notice so he could fly to Paris. After that, his return was delayed twice.

We already agreed that he’d return before Saturday, but it suddenly changed to Saturday itself...

This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t an extremely troublesome matter. 

...and he still stubbornly said that he wasn’t tired.

I place my forefingers on his temples, making slow circles. After a while, a soft laugh drifts from his lips. 

Victor: [releases a sigh which sounds like a moan lol]...

Victor takes my right hand and encloses it in his palm, wordlessly pulling me closer to him. 

With this distance, every one of his breaths mingle with mine. I can’t help but bend down, pressing the corner of my lips to his fringe.

In the quiet darkness, I hear the frequency of our heartbeats and breathing mingling and becoming more and more synchronised.

Victor: ...there’s no need to worry about me. I haven’t reached the point where a dummy has to worry about me.

MC: Mm, I got it. 

I respond softly, but can’t hide the touch of peace in my smile. 

MC: ...I just can’t help it.

Can’t help but worry if you’re hungry or not, whether you're cold or not, whether you’re tired or not. 

Can’t help but want to see you, whether you’re in front of me or not.

Can’t help but reveal the smile in my brows and lips just because you surface in my mind. 

I look out the window - the clouds spread across the dim twilight and the stars are looming. The golden sunset and the quietness of the night meet at the end of the sky. 

The sun is about to set.

MC: Victor, I didn’t finish the interview outline before the sun set. Are you going to punish me? 

Victor: ...

The only response I get is the sound of his steady and peaceful breathing. 

I lower my head and look at his sleeping face. This familiar side profile has gotten slightly thinner over the span of just a few days. I reach out, stroking his cheek in mid-air.

Afraid to disturb him, I silently watch him.

MC: Sleep then.

MC: ...

MC: Sleep peacefully. 

[drabbles-of-writing]

Drabs Im begging like a Dog please more society Au rants 🤡

i have 2 asks in my inbox for society au so guess who’s gonna give y’alls food

I’m a slut for Little Nightmares so I may or may not be taking ideas from those dope ass games.  anyway there are A Lot Of Dead Things on the Isles. normally the dead things are like. animals. typically ones that keeled over and are rotting w flies around them. usually farm animals, sometimes wildlife. if its uneaten, chances are its laced with something poisonous or no scavengers live in the area so its a safe place to camp out. Luz found a dead human face-down in a ditch once. that was traumatizing

Eda’s not the only person to be living out on her own to escape the scientists and mind control and whatnot. there aren’t a lot, probably not even in the double digits, but there are others. most are,,,mentally unwell. which makes sense, considering the circumstances. a good few are extremely paranoid to the point that if they see any living thing, human or not, they immediately kill it out of fear of being found and Taken. Gus has a nasty scar on his foot from a run-in with one of these people. 

there’s this place called the Wafe Us, which is literally just an abandoned Waffle House that had a couple letters fall off the entrance sign. the only two letters found scattered by the Wafe Us was the H and E. anyway the Wafe is actually important and is best to think of it like a misspelling of waif (meaning:  a homeless, neglected, unclaimed or abandoned thing, especially a child). its a safehouse of sorts, though Luz and the gang almost never see people there, unless you count the probably-ghosts and movements out of the corner of their eyes. the Wafe Us has a feeling of always bustling with life but in an undead sort of way, but you don’t mind the company. Luz has seen other people there before, though. often kids, but sometimes older folk. they often have dead looks in their eyes and she can tell just from looking at them that these are people who can and have been mind-controlled and they figured out what was going on. they know whats happening and they cant stop it. these are people who were run out of or left their towns but are still called upon every now and again. they don’t know when they’ll be mind-controlled next, but even they need a safe place to stay for the night. Luz has never seen the same person there twice. though, every now and again, she swears she sees small groups of kids muttering over plans and safe houses when she shows up, though they leave or go quiet when she walks in. she keeps forgetting to ask them questions.

there are trains that run through the Isles. they hold items but often carry mind-controlled people (who aren’t being controlled during those moments and are instead in a comatose state) being shipped to and fro. y’all ever seen Night in the Woods? you know that scene where you lay down by the train tracks? the gang does that sometimes. the trains have no stops along the way, they go straight to their destination and when they make it there, theres no stopping it. once Luz decided to see if she could hitch a ride on the train to get to some destination, and it actually kinda worked. the gang has even managed to fuck up some of the carts and shove people (safely) off the train. they almost always manage to grab the people and put them on trains again, but they get slowed down and annoyed, and sometimes thats the best you can do.

[dangermousie]

Heelo mousie! Love your blog! Do you mind recommending some of your favourite Chinese BL novels or shows?

I've seen the untamed and read it. I'm currently reading heaven's official blessing and I saw the donghua. Anything other than these two?

Awww, thank you!

Novels: I am gonna be lazy and literally copy/paste the entire danmei section of my top 10 web novels post (except MXTX’s stuff since you are already reading it.) Let me know if you need help finding any of these.

Lord Seventh - I am only partway through this so far, but it’s already on the list because it’s smart and somehow intense AND laid-back (not sure how this works, but it does) and is honestly just a really really solid and smart period novel, with the OTP a cherry on top of a narrative sundae. Plus, I love the concept of MC deciding he is not going for his supposedly fated love - he’s tried for six lifetimes, always with disaster, and he’s just plain done and tired. When he opens his life in his seventh reincarnation and sees the person he would have given up the world for, he genuinely feels nothing at all. (Spoiler - his OTP is actually a barbarian shaman this time around, thank you Lord!)

Golden Stage - my perfect comfort novel. Probably the least angsty of any danmei novel on this list (which still means plenty angsty :P) It also has a dedicated, smart OTP that is an OTP for the bulk of the book - I think you will notice that in most of the novels in this list, I go for “OTP against the world” trope - I can’t stand love triangles and the same. Anyway, Fu Shen, is a famous general whose fame is making the emperor   antsy. When he gets injured and can’t walk any more, the emperor gladly recalls him and marries him off to his most faithful court lackey, the head of sort of secret police, Yan Xiaohan. The emperor intends it both  as a check on the general and a general spite move since the two men   always clash in court whenever they meet. But not all is at is seems. They used to be  friends a long time ago, had a falling out, and one of the loveliest  parts of the novel is them finding their way to each other, but there is  also finding the middle path between their two very different  philosophies and ways of being, not to mention solving a conspiracy or  dozen, and putting a new dynasty on the throne, among other things. It always makes me think, a little, of “if Mei Changsu x Jingyan were canon.”

Sha Po Lang - if you like a lot of fantasy politics and world-building and steampunk with your novels, this one is for you. This one is VERY plot-heavy with smart, dedicated characters and a deconstruction of many traditional virtues - our protagonist Chang Geng, a long-lost son of the Emperor, is someone who wants to modernize the country but also take down the current emperor his brother for progress’ sake and the person he’s in love with is the general who saved him when he was a kid who is nominally his foster father. Anyway, the romance is mainly a garnish in this one, not even a big side dish, but the relationship between two smart, dedicated, deadly individuals with very different concepts of duty is fascinating long before it turns romantic. And if you like angst, while overall it’s not as angsty as e.g., Meatbun stuff, Chang Geng’s childhood is the stuff of nightmares and probably freaks me out more than anything else in any novel on this list, 2ha included.

To Rule In a Turbulent World (LSWW) - gay Minglan. No seriously. This is how I think of it. it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and  setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period  setting per se and I always prefer stories where the romance is not the only thing that is going on. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with  character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating. Our   protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant,   sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he sees his friend’s  servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as  we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and  occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. The person he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named   Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers  and lets him go. However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both  out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely  likes him (and yet, there is no instalove on either of their parts, their bodies have fun a lot quicker than their souls.) Anyway, the two  take up farming, get involved in  the imperial exams and it’s the life of prosperity and peace, until an invasion happens and things go rapidly to hell. This is so nuanced, so smart (smart people in this actually ARE!) and has secondary characters who are just as complex as the mains (for example, I ended up adoring YM’s friend, the one who starts the plot by almost beating LZF to death for no reason) because the novel never forgets that few people are all villain. There is a lovely character arc or two - watching YM grow up and LZF thaw - there is the fact that You Miao is a unicorn in web novels being laid back and calm. This whole thing is a masterpiece.

Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - want the emotional hit of 2ha but want to read something half its length? Well, the author of 2ha is here to eviscerate you in a shorter amount of time. This has the beautiful world-building, plot twists that all make sense and, at the center of it all, an intense and all-consuming and gloriously painful relationship between two generals - one aristocratic loner Mo Xi, and the other gregarious former slave general Gu Mang. Once they were best friends and lovers, but when the novel starts, Gu Mang has long turned traitor and went to serve the enemy kingdom and has now been returned and Mo Xi, who now commands the remnants of his slave army, has to cope with the fact that he has never been able to get over the man who stabbed him through the heart. Literally. This novel has a gorgeously looping structure, with flashbacks interwoven into present storyline. There is so much love and longing and sacrifice in this that I am tearing up a bit just thinking of it. If you don’t love Mo Xi and Gu Mang, separately and together, by the end of it, you have no soul.

The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha/erha) - if you’ve been following my tumblr for more than a hot second, you know my obsession with this novel. Honestly, even if I were to make a list of my top 10 novels of any kind, not just webnovels, this would be on the list. It has everything I want - a complicated, intricate plot with an insane amount of plot twists, all of which are both unexpected and make total sense, a rich and large cast of characters, a truly epic OTP that makes me bawl, emotional intensity that sometimes maxes even me out and so much character nuance and growth. Also, Moran is my favorite web novel character ever, hands down.

Anyway, the plot (or at least the way it first appears) is that the evil emperor of the cultivation world, Taxian Jun, kills himself at 32 and wakes up in the body of his 16 year old self, birth name Moran. Excited to get a redo, Moran wants to save his supposed true love Shimei, whose death the last go-around pushed him towards evil. He also wants to avoid entanglement with Chu Wanning, his shizun and sworn enemy in past life. And that’s all you are best off knowing, trust me. The only hint I am going to give is oooh boy the mother of all unreliable narrators has arrived!

The novel starts light and funny on boil the frog principle - if someone told me I would be full bawling multiple times with this novel, I’d have thought they were insane, but i swear my eyes hurt by the end of it. I started out being amused and/or disliking the mains and by the end I would die for either of them.

The Wife is First - OK, this one did not make my top 10 web novels but it’s a sweet, fun gay cottagecore fest. Our ML, a royal prince, and his spouse, a smart if delicate aristocrat, keep house, eat noodles, play with their pet tiger, make out and spoil each other rotten, while occasionally fighting battles and outwitting their court enemies. It’s so very mellow. That couple redefines low drama - they are both nice and functional and use their brains. It’s as if a nice jock and a nice nerd got together and then proceeded to be wholesome all over the place.

I mean, the set up could be dramatic - our ML the prince, lost his fight for the throne and is about to be killed. The only person who stayed loyal to him is his arranged husband the aristocrat guy who ML never treated nicely since he resented marrying him (marrying a man in that world is done to remove someone from the ability to inherit the throne.) And yet the husband stood by him not out of love but beliefs in loyalty blah blah. Anyway, he transmigrates back into the past right after their wedding night and is all “I got a second chance OMG! I don’t want the throne what is even the point? I want to live a good long life and treat the only person who stood by me really well!” And he proceeds to do so to the shock of the aristocrat who had a very unpleasant wedding night and generally can tell the man he just married would rather eat nails than be married to him. But soon enough (no seriously, it’s not many chapters at all) he believes the prince is sincere blah blah and then  they get together and they pretty much become cottagecore goals.

In terms of dramas, I only do period dramas (or novels) so I am not the person to be able to recommend any modern BLs. There is a flood of upcoming (hopefully) period BL dramas but it’s relatively thin on the ground now. The two I will recommend is Word of Honor (which is AMAZING) and Winter Begonia (which I just started watching but which owns me already.) I have a tag for both - the one for the former is huge and I cannot recommend either strongly enough. I’ve heard good things about The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, but I am not big on mysteries so haven’t watched it for myself.

In terms of the upcoming BLs, the ones I am most looking forward to are Immortality and Winner Is King, but The Society of the Four Leaves also looks promising.

[mxvladdy]

Little Stardew somethin’ somethin’

*Barges into your house with fluff nobody asked for* In this house we LOVE and RESPECT our sad boi and wish him well. 

Hopeful Fluff of Shane getting better. Idk what to call it but I wrote it soooo-

TW: Mentions of alcoholism and withdrawals symptoms 

Mornings were your favorite. The crisp mountain air coming in from your open windows. Helping erase the slight bitter tinge of mead and wine fermenting in your basement before the next festival. Pouring another cup of coffee you watch the sunrise from your kitchen window. It’s golden rays bounce off the river water flowing lazily outside your garden wall. A few fat salmon jumped out teasingly, scales shining in the cool fall air. 

“Whatca think Salem?” You pat your shepherd's head. “Fishing after herding the sheep? Or a horse ride into town? I think Gus has got some new treats for ya.” Salem woofs, wagging his tail once before trotting to his dog bowl. He eats quickly then eyes the back door expectantly. “All right, herding it is.” Checking the breakfast casserole in the oven and peeking in on your boyfriend’s sleeping form you tiptoe out the house to get your morning started before breakfast. 

Watering and harvesting took longer than usual. The fruit trees hung low and groaned under the weight of their labor. The peaches looked exceptional this harvest too. You pick them, making a mental note to preserve some for Evelyn and Abigail then sell the rest to Pierre. After the harvesting and several trips to the storage shed you go to check on all your babies. 

Several new chickens had hatched overnight too. Three brown, a white, and another void. You tuck the little black chick into your hoodie and give it a smooch. As useless as their eggs were for eating you always had a soft spot for these tiny goth chickens. Taking it to the coop you had specially built for your void-born feathered friends you deposit the little one amongst its brethren. It peeps in thanks before waddling off to peck at the fresh feed.

Morning chores done, you jog back to your house hoping your casserole hasn't burned. The house smelled of spiced ham and fresh garlic when you reentered. The rest of the windows open to let in the river breeze and faint scent of your flower patches. The fireplace roared in its corner, chasing away the frosty nip that clung to your cheeks. “Shane?” You follow the noise from the mudroom to the kitchen entrance. 

“Ye?” He poked his head around the corner. Warm brown eyes blink at you blearily. The corners of which were still crusted over with sleep. He must have just rolled out of bed. “Morin’.” He yawns widely scratching at his rumpled old gridball hoodie. Exchanging a brief morning breath laden kiss you smooth down a few of his more wild strands of bed head. 

“Thought you were taking the day off?” Your lips touch again, pulling a happy little hum from him. 

“I am. Just thought I would finish making breakfast so you could put your feet up faster. Plus, I think I finally figured out your ham recipes.” He drags you to your favorite spot at the breakfast nook before going back to the oven. “It’s the clove to cinnamon ratio ain’t it? Too much of either distract from the flavor of the fat.” 

You nod in approval at his deduction. He pours you another cup of coffee, his hand shakes on the carafe handle. He was jittery today. Whether it was his anxiety spiking or just the jitter after a decent night of sleep you don’t know. But he’ll tell you when ready. He catches you staring when he turns back with two steaming plates of your eggs and veggie casserole and a thick slice of ham. “Tell me what you think.” 

“I’m sure it's fabulous. Gus better watch out or there will be a new chef in town.” Shane practically glows at your praise watching you like a hawk as you eat. You inhale it, the morning exercises catching up with you. He lets you eat in silence, his previous twitchiness evaporating into a nervous silence. “Everything good?” You ask in between bites. You hated to pry or push but sometimes he needed a little nudge to get talking. 

Shane stares into empty space above your head worrying his low lip. His fluffy brows dipping low. “Shit-ye- I got something to talk to you about.” He rose then, shuffling off to your shared bedroom. You exchange a worried look with Salem. He whined low in his throat then followed Shane. Since Shane had moved in Salem had stuck to him like glue. It tickled you, as he was not the friendliest dog to people that took your attention away from him. But, with Shane, he found a couch companion and a late-night walking pal. It worked out great for Shane’s mood and recovery. 

Your boyfriend reappeared with a black binder and several stacks of paper. He places them in front of you. “I’ve been thinking over what you’ve said.” He stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets burrowing himself deeper into the thinning fabric. “Between you and Harvey I-I want to have a go at it.” His eyes are downcast in shame. You riffle through the brochures. 

Brentforest Care Facilities 

“It’s a three-month inpatient care program. Harvey helped me set up the initial psych evaluation and has vetted for it. He’s got some friends that work there too. He-we think it would be good to work on a few hold-ups I’m having.” His stomach turns sour at the downward tug of your lips when you see the zero’s on the page. “Marnie is helping me cover the cost, an’ after the first few weeks I’m even allowed guests.” He pitters out, the overwhelming need to fill the dead air as you read disappeared as quickly as it had come. 

“You got it all sorted out huh?” You look up from the documents. Shane nods. You look back at the books, then him. He forces himself to breathe through his nose. This is it. This was the last straw, it had to be. He couldn’t blame you though- he wasn’t worth the effort. 

No-nope. Not starting this again. He fought with himself shaking the thoughts right out of his head. He trusted you. Dr. Martina trusted you. You were there during the worst of his withdrawal symptoms. The fevers, and shakes; you never flinched from his unwarranted shouting and irritability either. How many sleepless nights had you spent comforting him as he wept over things he wasn’t ready to talk about. You had gone through a lot with him and still was. You wanted to see him healthy. This was just another step. 

“Dr. Martina- my therapist- and I have been working on this for a bit. I just need a few more signatures and to make the initial payment. Then- then I’m good.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, pushing the fear he felt further down in his chest. 

His arms were suddenly filled with you. Your warm body flush with his. Soft skin and fresh windswept hair flooding his senses with your hug. “I’m so proud of you.” You mutter into his jacket. Farm callus fingers grip him close inviting him to hug you back. Shane let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even known he was hiding and reciprocated. He held you close and rocked you both side to side. “What do you need me to do?”

“Mmm?” He pulled you away from his neck. You loved burrowing your face there for some reason. Months ago he had hated when you did that. He always thought he smelt of stale sweat and the recycled air of the JoJo Mart. It had clung to every part of him for years. Hardly attractive by anyone's standards. But now, working out in the coops and fields alongside volunteering at the Community Center, it had all but disappeared. Now you swore he smelled like earth and like the pine trees that grew around your house. You had even admitted his sweat smells better too. Perhaps his alcohol sweats were finally lifting. Or maybe it was the better diet you made him eat. 

“What do you need of me?” You kiss his scruffy cheek. Eyes alight with determination and affection. 

He returns your kiss with a light peck of his own. “A few signatures- to show you can visit. An’ if there was an emergency you would be a contact. If-if that’s ok with you?” He asks.

“As if you had to ask.” You beam putting your forehead to his. “I’ll miss you.” You whisper between feather light kisses.  

Shane sighs in utter relief around your coffee scented lips. “Promise to write?” He asks cupping your cheeks to rub his thumbs over the sun kissed skin. “And feed Charlie too?” You laugh, nose scrunching up in delight at his joke.

You seal the deal with a kiss. 

[rohad93]

Moonlit Masquerade: Sandcastles  Final

The final part of MM: Sandcastles its 2:30 am so just excuse any mistakes in it for now.

She doesn’t really want to go to the beach house with the twins.

She’d much rather spend it with Luz, but since Luz is busy and it would be depressing to sit at home alone all weekend, and on her birthday no less, she relents. The two practically beg her to come with them anyway, which is strange, but she knows they still feel bad about the hair thing from a couple of weeks ago, and are looking to make up for their teasing her about it, so with few other appealing options, she agrees.

They get off the Boiling Isles version of public transport at the closest town to the beach and from there it’s a short ten-minute walk to the Blight family’s vacation home.

Though it’s mostly only used when their parent’s really want to show off to people, most of the year it sits empty.

“Ah, don’t have such a long face, Mittens,” her brother starts. “Maybe Luz couldn’t come with you to the house, but that doesn’t mean you won’t have a good time.” He smiles at her and there is something suspiciously knowing about it, she knows her siblings, they’re planning something, but she hasn’t the slightest clue what it could be.

The pranks are still quite present, but to a much smaller degree since the ‘library incident’ as it’s now referred to, so she’s not particularly worried about that; her siblings are just acting strange.

They’ve been sneaking around and having hushed conversations; last night she’d passed by Edric’s closed bedroom door and overheard some of their muffled conversations by chance.  

“Luz is sneakier than I gave her credit for,” Her sister laughed. She hears her brother’s muffled voice but can’t clearly hear what he’s saying. “I trust her, I’m sure she has it all taken care of, I can’t wait to see Mitten’s face,” Emira speaks again, and then it’s too muffled to hear anything else, try as she might. That one little comment set off warning bells in her head.

Luz was doing something with her sibling, but what could it have to do with her?

By the sound of it, all Luz’s sudden absences during the week make sense if Ed and Em have her sneaking around doing something, which worries her. Her siblings can be quite devious when they want to be and sometimes even when they aren’t trying, their pranks sometimes tend to backfire spectacularly. She worries that Luz may be in over her head, that, and she’d lied to her about Eda needing her help. The only reason she would do that she can guess at is that the twins have her doing something she wouldn’t approve of, which makes her head spin with worrying possibilities. She knows Luz would never help her siblings pull some kind of mean spirited prank on her; not intentionally at least.

She hadn’t intentionally been part of the debacle with her diary that night in the library either, but it had happened. Her stomach twists up and she frowns. Ed and Em know how much Luz means to her and she can’t imagine them doing something, now that is, that could end with Luz hurting her in some way.

She’s missing something but she can’t for the life of her figure it out. It’s the blue moon masquerade all over again. Luz and her siblings are collaborating again. Not that that had turned out bad in the end, not at all, but the twins are unpredictable and Luz is an unstoppable ball of energy when the mood strikes her. Amity loves that exuberant energy when it’s channeled in the correct direction that is.

They round the bend and the house comes into view.

It’s large, just like their everyday home, in the gothic style the Blight family is known for and sits only about thirty yards from the sand and water of the beach.

“Ah, sweet, parentless solitude!” Edric grins as they walk around the house to the front door with their bags.

“Ready for an awesome birthday weekend, Mittens?” Emira nudges Amity playfully with her hip and grins.

“What’s going to be so awesome about it?” Amity grumbles, crossing her arms, missing the looks the twins throw each other over her head, they are living for this; knowing what’s coming.

“You sure are grumpy without your daily dose of Luz,” her brother teases, and Amity pinks, growling at him, her sharp eye teeth poking out from between her lips, but doesn’t say anything though.

There’s no point, they all know it’s true  and she won’t do their relationship the disservice of denying it. She’s wrankled because she’s here with just the twins when she’d really hoped Luz would be able to come with them, and they know it.

Add in that something is going on with her girlfriend and siblings and she hasn’t the slightest clue, does not put her in the best mood.

“Hey, I bet Ed and I can give you the best birthday you ever had.” Emira smiles at her and Amity can tell it’s genuine.  

“I doubt it,” Amity mumbles, making her sister frown and she feels bad immediately after. The twins are trying, they are, which is more than she can say about their parents.

She stops a few feet from the door, looking down at her feet and the twins both look at her.

“I’m sorry… I’m being a jerk…,” she finally says, and the twins share mirrored looks of surprise. “I just… we only have a few minutes before school and a couple of hours after, and we can’t be seen out together in public much or mom and dad would find out, and then after what happened at the owl house someone is always checking up on us…,” she trails off.  “I was just really hoping she would be able to come this weekend so we could hang out without worrying about anything… I really wanted her to be here for my birthday… which I didn’t even tell her about…,” she sighs.

When she looks back up the twins are looking at her with identical, sympathetic faces.

“Hey, it’s okay, Amity.” Emira wraps an arm around her shoulder. “We can’t imagine how hard it must be to have to hide it all the time.” She squeezed.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it… it’s not like we’ve never been jerks to you!” he chuckled. “But, uh…, why didn’t you tell her about your birthday?” he asks what both twins have been wondering since Luz revealed she didn’t know.

Amity frowns at the question and fingers the hem of her shirt

“I guess I just… didn’t want to explain the stuff about our birthdays to her. I know she feels bad about a lot of the stuff that goes on at home already, I didn’t want to give her another reason to worry about me, or do something totally overboard,” she huffs a small laugh but it quickly dies in her throat and she chews on her lips before looking up at the twins who for once are looking at her with patient, understanding.

“Sometimes… I just feel so overwhelmed by all her affection, like I don’t deserve it…,” she barely gets to finish before both twins have their arms wrapped around her.

“Of course you do.” Emira squeezes her tightly. “Maybe you can be a stick in the mud sometimes…”

“But you’re our stick in the mud,” Edric finishes. “And we bet Luz would say the same thing.”  

"Yeah, she’s lucky to have you,” Emira agrees.

Amity’s cheeks are pink but she can’t help but smile as her brother and sister squeeze her between them.

They finally let go and stand back.

“We know how much you wanted Luz to come with us, but don’t worry, this is gonna be the best birthday you ever had, we made sure of it,” her brother assures, and the twins smile, not their usually coy or playful smiles, but ones of genuine affection for Amity, who can’t help but smile back.

“Okay…” she takes a step forward but her sister holds her back.

“One more thing…,” Emira says, her smile turning into a grin. “What happened at the owl house that makes the owl lady have to check up on you two?”

Amity’s face turns blood red.

“Nothing! Nothing happened at the owl house!”

The twins share knowing grins.

“It sure sounds like something happened…,” Edric sing-songs and Amity scowls.

“I’m going inside!” Amity spins on her heel and opens the door and the twins follow her in, still grinning. They’ll just have to interrogate Luz later. They promised themselves they wouldn’t tease Amity this weekend… much.

The house is pitch black, save for the shaft of light coming in from the open door to light the entryway. The curtains are all drawn closed, keeping out the sunlight.

Ed and Em close the door behind her and it’s truly dark for a second before somewhere in front of her she sees a blue and green spell circle blink into existence for a brief second before all the lights are lit.

“Surprise!” Confetti is flying everywhere.  

Amity jumps as Willow, Gus, Luz, and the twins yell.

“Wha- what…?” she stares at them wide-eyed.

“Happy birthday Amity!”  The three standing in front of her shout.

Amity just stands there, mouth hanging open.

“I think she was surprised,” Edric laughs from behind her.

“I do believe your right,” Emira agrees.

“What is this?” She blinks, wide, gold eyes as she looks around, confetti in her hair. The room is decorated with streamers and balloons.

“Your surprise birthday party, duh!” The twins laugh at Amity’s shocked face. They are quite pleased with themselves.

Willow and Gus both run up and hug their bewildered friend. Luz hangs back, still grinning and watching her girlfriend’s shocked face. She knows her turn will come, she’s glad to watch for the moment, even as she vibrates with energy.

“I…,” Amity mumbles finally when it sets in what is happening as her friends hug her. Her lip trembles and she doesn’t even realize she’s crying till it’s hard to see through the tears. She squeezes both Gus and Willow who are still grinning madly and laughing.

They finally let her go as Luz walks up.

“Soooo, are you surprised?” she asks, grinning from ear to ear and only just manages to steady herself as Amity throws herself at her with a choked cry, arms wrapping around her.

“It’s a party, don’t cry, mi amor,” she chuckles quietly, running a hand soothingly up and down Amity’s back.

“I’m just… really happy…,” she hiccups into Luz’s shoulder. She pulls back and wipes at her face but she’s smiling so brightly it makes Luz’s chest tight to see her so happy

“How did you…?” she trails off, still sniffling.

“It was all Ed and Em’s idea.” Luz nodded to the twins, giving credit where it’s due, looking back at the twins who were grinning at them; when Amity turned around to look at them, they wink.

It’s the twins turn to get wrapped in Amity’s arms, an arm slung around each of their waists as she squeezes them for all she’s worth, face buried in their chests.

“I love you.” only the twins can hear her muffled words. They squeeze her back, a head-on each side of hers.

“We love you too,” is quietly mumbled in stereo into her ears.

“Are we going to party or not?!” Gus finally asks, throwing up his hands when the siblings have separated.

“Yeah!” Luz whoops.

They quickly get settled in, putting away their bags and retreating to the strip of beach that makes up the backyard.

There’s a net stretched between two poles stuck in the sand and the Blight siblings notice it immediately.

“What is that?” Edric cocks his head curiously.

"It’s a net. It’s for a game I’m going to teach you guys called volleyball.” Luz explains, holding up a grudgby ball. It was the closest thing she could find to a volleyball and was of a similar tough, but giving, material.

Luz explains the rules and they have a few practice rounds before they decide to play a game.

“Who is going to be on the teams?” Willow looks around at them.

“We could play boys vs girls,” Gus suggests.

“That would make the teams four versus two though.” Emira points out.

“We’ll take Luz.” Edric wraps an arm around the human’s shoulders and Gus nods his approval, while Luz just blinks as the guys drag her to them.

“Why do you get Luz?” Amity is quick to protest.

“Because, she’s good with girls, and looks dashing in a suit.” He holds up a finger for each reason. “What else do you need? She’s one of us,” he explains with a smirk. Emira rolls her eyes at her brother and Amity grumbles while Willow can only watch, chuckling.

“It’s cool, I’ll play with the guys,” she agrees. “Let’s get this game started, I’ll serve!” Luz runs to her position and everyone else moves into place.

They’ve been blessed by the last lingering whispering dregs of summer and the day is quite warm.

Especially as they run around in the sun, screaming and laughing as they chase the ball and trash talk across the court Luz has drawn with a stick in the sand.

“That was so in!” Emira yells.

“In your dreams!” Gus yells back.

They only have to break up a few arguments, usually between some combination of the Blight siblings, though Gus and Willow will argue a call too.

Luz is just glad they all seem to be having a good time.

She knew Amity was athletic and could be very competitive, but actually watching her play, and a game without magic at that is a different experience altogether. She’ll jump and dive at any given opportunity to score or keep their shots from scoring.

The timer on Luz’s phone is ticking down to the final minutes. The next shot will decide the winner and Ed is serving.  

He smacks it in the air and Willow meets it, passing it over to Amity who sends it flying back over the net.

“I got it!” Gus shouts diving forward into the sand and sending it back over before Amity’s shot can land.

Luz watches the ball fly over the net but her eyes land on Amity who is grinning brightly as they play, and she can’t help smile stupidly, glad Amity is having so much fun.

She’s too busy gawking at her girlfriend instead of watching the ball and especially not Emira, who jumps up at the net to intercept Gus’s shot and with a loud smack spikes it over the net.

Luz sees Amity’s eyes turn to her just before the ball smacks her straight in the face and it all goes black for a second.

“Luz!” Several people are yelling her name as her back hits the sand.

Her eyes squint open, the bright sun glaring down at her.

Then there’s a shadow over her, blocking it out. Amity’s scared and worried face comes into view, followed closely by everyone else.

“Luz, are you okay?” Willow asks.

“Ow…,” Luz mumbles, and then her friends are helping her sit up.

“I’m sorry!” Emira quickly says.

“I'm… okay… just kinda dazed…” she smiles reassuringly, though it looks a little more like a grimace as they help her to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Amity is gently running her fingers over her face as though looking for a fracture or something.

“I’m fine, Amity,” she says, shooing her hands away, though her face does smart, she’s not going to tell Amity that.

“Good… in that case, we won!” Emira cheers with a grin and the boys squawk at that.

“That doesn’t count!” Edric stomps.

“Injuring a member of the other team does not count!” Gus agrees.

“It hit the ground.” Emira sticks her tongue out.

“It did hit the ground inbounds,” Willow agrees.

“After it bounced off Luz’s face!” Edric fumes.

Amity rolls her eyes at all of them and turns her attention back to Luz as she stands, brushing sand off her shorts.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asks.

“No harm!” Luz grins. “Not the first time someone hit me in the face with a ball, and it probably won’t be the last.”  

“Let’s try to keep it to a minimum anyway though,” she smirks, crossing her arms. “Try watching the ball and not me,” she says quietly, so only Luz hears as the other four squabble about who won.

Luz chuckles while Amity looks at her knowingly.

"No promises, Hermosa.” Luz winks.

Amity knows that word from her Spanish to English dictionary and Luz knows she does by the way she flushes red, which makes her snicker.

The girls finally claim victory when Luz agrees with them that the ball hit in bounds, regardless of whether or not it bounced off her face first. The boys look betrayed for all of a few seconds, but concede, she’s the injured party here, and she knows the rules.

Though that doesn’t stop Edric from coughing ‘whipped’ into his hand, which fools no one and only makes Luz blush and Amity scowl; everyone else just grins or smothers their laughter

Edric quickly issues a challenge for a rematch, though this time it’s the Blight siblings versus the friend squad, and they give as good as they get, but the Blights are overwhelmingly victorious in the end.

They hang out on the beach and play for a while until the twins decide it’s time to start cooking dinner.

Luz uses a fire glyph to start the fire pit sitting in the sand and the twins go back up to the house to collect the things they need. Willow volunteers to go with them to help carry stuff back down.

“I’ll stay here with…,” Gus starts but Willow grabs his arm and drags him along with her after the twins.

“You’ll come with me.”

“But…,” he protests as the plant witch drags him away.

Amity chuckles at it. 'Very smooth, Willow…’ she thinks fondly as she plops down into the sand next to Luz, who smiles at her.

“Having a good time?” she asks and Amity wraps an arm around Luz’s as they sit shoulder to shoulder.

“The best.” She nods, setting her cheek on the human’s shoulder. “This is the best birthday I ever had.”

“Well, there’s still more to come.” She beams. “Which reminds me, why the heck didn’t you tell me tomorrow was your birthday!?” She throws her free arm up. Amity grimaces, turning her face away and sighs.

“I’m sorry, Luz,” she says. “I just know you worry about the stuff that happens at home and I didn’t want to add the mess that is our birthdays onto that. It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t want you to worry about it.”

“I know you don’t want me to worry, but I’m gonna anyway, and I worry more when I find out stuff like this from Ed and Em instead of you, so you shoulda just told me. We talked about this…,” she said quietly, frowning.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think my birthday was anything to be concerned about, but I knew you would be, It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me! I for one am glad you were born!” she says and Amity smiles at that.

“…I also didn’t want you to go overboard trying to make up the difference…,” she adds.

“But going overboard is what I do!” Luz grins, much to proud of that, and Amity rolls her eyes but smiles fondly at her.

“I know you do. It’s just…,” she pauses, and Luz can see her making that face that means she’s thinking about what to say. “It’s overwhelming sometimes,” she finally says and Luz blinks, smile falling as she looks at the pensive look that has slipped onto Amity’s face.

“My going overboard? I can work on pulling it back…,” she starts but Amity is shaking her head.

“No, Luz, not that, and don’t do that, I love you just how you are.” She stops her, and those words make a whole host of emotions rise up in Luz. She can’t help it, after being the outcast all her life in the human world, but she pushes that aside for now. She needs to stay focussed! She unwinds her arm from Amity’s and turns to better face her.

“What’s overwhelming then?”

Amity doesn’t hesitate for more than a second.

“Being loved by you,” she finally says, and brown eyes widen at that. “Sometimes, it just feels like so much all at once and I feel like I don’t deserve it all,” she admits.

“That’s not…,” Luz begins but Amity’s hand on her mouth stops her.

“Just… let me finish?” she pleads, looking at Luz. She nods and Amity pulls her hand away. She looks sad and Luz frowns, she wants to tell her how wrong she is, but she waits. Just more time to gear up for her rebuttal.

“You're… so kind and loving… and I’m just not. So I can’t help but wonder why you love me…,” Amity trails off and turns away from Luz to look out at the water, hands on her knees, pulled up to her chest, unable to look at Luz right now.

Luz pursed her lips. Leave it to Amity to not see how great she is and that just isn’t going to fly with Luz.

“Can I talk now?”

Amity nods.

“Excuse the language, but that’s crap, Amity,” she says plainly and Amity whips back to look at her, gold eyes wide.

“Eda says when it comes to kindness I’m a freak of nature, so you shouldn’t be comparing yourself to me or to anyone for that matter! You’re one of the kindest, most loving people I know!” Luz starts. “And maybe, yeah, you’re not great at outwardly showing it, but I know that’s your parent’s fault.” She reaches over and takes hold of one of her girlfriend’s hands.

“When you didn’t know it was me and turned me down at the masquerade, I could tell how upset and sorry you were, because you’re kind like that, you don’t like hurting people, and hate it when you do. You read to little kids at the library, and put up with a lot of my nonsense…”

“Luz…”

“Hup up.” Luz stops her with a finger on her lips. “Not done.” She smiles, pulling away her finger and Amity frowns, but remains quiet. “As far as loving goes, someone who wasn’t wouldn’t always be running their hands through my hair the way you do, or take care of me when I’m throwing up 'cause I eat all kinds of weird things I’m apparently allergic to, and try so hard to recreate my favorite food for me, or hold me for hours while I’m a sobbing mess. So, yeah, that’s crap!” Luz looks at her sternly. “You ARE kind and loving and you deserve everything,” she finally finishes, squeezing her hand.

Amity is biting her lip and getting teary again. She only just manages to keep them from falling and wipes at the few that have gathered in the corners of her eyes with her free hand.

“Well, I don’t want everything…,” she finally managed to get out. “Just you.” She squeezes back.

“You already have me, amor,” Luz tells her with a bright smile.

Before Amity can say anything else a loud sob makes them jump and look over their shoulders.

Gus, Willow, and the twins are standing a few yards away and Emira is biting her lip, trying to stifle her crying while Gus is openly sobbing into Willow’s shoulder while she pats his back and Edric looks a little choked up as he stands there awkwardly holding a tray of uncooked food.

“How long have you been standing there?!” Amity screeched, face almost purple all the way to her ears, and Luz has also turned a bright shade of crimson at her friends bearing witness to this, supposed to be, very, very private moment.

“Since… Amity… said she didn’t deserve Luz’s love!” Gus helpfully cries before going back to sobbing into Willow’s shoulder.

Edric shuffles his feet awkwardly in the sand.

“We thought you’d hear us coming and stop talking, but then you didn’t and…,” he trails off, unable to look at his baby sister or her girlfriend.

“Then we couldn’t interrupt…,” Emira sniffles, wiping at her eyes, moved to tears by what she’d just witnessed.

“Sorry…” Willow grimaced, still consoling Gus.

“Well, this is awkward…,” Luz mumbles, scratching the back of her head.

Edric clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Why don’t we get cooking?” He offers with an awkward smile and walks over to the fire pit, Emira nods and follows him, still wiping at her eyes.

“I’m gonna just… take care of this…” Willow leads Gus away from the group.

“It was so beautiful!” They hear his muffled cry.

Amity buries her face in her hands and groans loudly.

Luz pats her back.

“Me too…”

The awkward air hanging around the beach eventually disappears once the food is done and they all fall into easy conversation as they eat.

Luz sticks to the foods she knows, but the rot dogs are calling her name and she picks one up when her girlfriend isn’t looking.

Luz holds up a rot dog… it looks so good… but she knows the bun is bramblewheat bread…

Just a bite wouldn’t hurt…

Before she can get it in her mouth Amity slaps it out of her hand into the sand.

“No, Luz!” she scowls and Luz pouts while the twins snicker at them.

“Still thinks she’s kind?” Edric mock whispers and Amity turns red, this time a combination of embarrassment and anger.

“She’s allergic!” she barks at them, and they only howl with laughter.

When the food is gone, the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon and Luz jumps up, excited.

“I’m going to go get the cake!” she declares before turning and running toward the house.

“What kind of cake is it?” Amity turned to her siblings questioningly. Ed shrugs.

“Dunno, we put Luz in charge of the cake,” Emira says with her own shrug.

“So, hopefully, no bramblewheat,” Willow chuckles. Gus makes a face.

That catches Amity’s interest. There’s no telling what Luz has prepared.

Luz comes back a few minutes later with the white box and sets it on the small table they brought out.

She unboxes it to an appropriate chorus of 'oohs’ and 'ahhs".

With Lilith’s help, it actually came out quite beautiful.

The white icing is smooth as glass with a lip of smoothly piped icing keeping the jam filling on top from sliding down the sides.

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Luz!” Willow praises and Luz puffs out her chest. Sure Lilith helped, but Luz wanted to make it, so she had the elder Clawthorne walk her through every step, though maybe Lilith went back and smoothed the icing that may have been a little chunky when Luz was finished.

“Thanks, I made it myself.” She smiles proudly and Amity’s look of awe that had been trained on the cake is now on her instead.

“You made this?” Emira asks, bewildered. Edric also looks impressed.

“Lilith helped me some, she’s a crazy good baker, but, yeah!” She beams. “The Redstone bakery was closed so I couldn’t get a thornberry cake anywhere else.”

“It’s thornberry?” Amity is still looking at her amazed.

“Well, yeah, that’s your favorite,” she says casually. “Those were not easy to get…,” she mumbles, unconsciously reaching up to touch the bandage on her forehead. In the back of her mind, Amity makes a note to ask her about that later.

It amazes Amity how easily Luz can just do these things that mean so much to her and just shrug it off like it was expected. She’s starting to get misty-eyed again, and she is adamant that she’s not going to cry for a third time today, despite how determined Luz seems to be to make her. The twins seem to sense this.

“Well, let’s eat this bad boy!” Edric calls.

The assembled witches then quickly notice something though.

“What are those?” Gus is the first to ask, pointing at the fifteen little pink candles Luz has stuck on top.

“They’re candles…” Luz blinks at the cake and then back up at everyone else who is looking at her strangely.

“Yeah, but why did you put them on the cake?” Willow asks what everyone else is thinking.

“Oh! I guess you guys don’t do that, huh? It’s a human tradition. Usually, you put a candle for every year you are, and then you blow them all out and make a wish,” Luz explains to the gathered witches. “It’s just that your birthday is supposed to be… well, magical,” she chuckles to herself. “So the belief is if you make a wish on the candles it’s more likely to come true.” She shrugs. “I can take them off…,” she starts.

“No!” Amity almost shouts as Luz reaches for the little pink candles. “No, leave them… I do have a wish I want to make,” she says quietly and smiles.

Ed and Em smile at each other and twirl their fingers, and pale, blue spell circles appear before the candles light up in a flicker of flame.

Amity seems to think for a second, eyes closed before they open and she blows them out. Willow cheers and Gus waves his flags excitedly, and they make little whipping noises.

“Whoo!” Ed whoops and Emira leans down to press a kiss to the top of her sister’s head, making her cheeks pink.

“Cake time!” Luz grins and starts cutting it up, humming to herself, unaware of Amity watching her with that same small smile as she does.

Luz hands Amity a piece as she sits back down next to her.

“Is it any good?” Luz looks around nervously as everyone takes a bite.

“I think this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten…,” Emira mumbles in amazement and Edric just stuff’s more cake into his mouth.

“It’s fantastic, Luz!” Willow praises and Gus nods, following the older boys, lead, trying to shove more cake into his full mouth.

A delighted hum at her side makes Luz look at Amity who looks absolutely smitten by the dessert and Luz grins. Amity catches her gaze and her cheeks pink but she is smiling so hard she can’t stop it.

“It’s amazing, Luz,” is all she can say. There are so many words but none of them do what she’s feeling justice.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to this feeling that consumes her entire being when Luz is near, and she really doesn’t want to.

Between the six of them, all that remains of the cake are some smears of icing and crumbs. The sun has set as they move back into the house so they can give Amity their gifts.

Gus proudly presents her with a book he found. 'A witches guide to humans’.

“I thought this might come in handy for you. It’s got all kinds of facts about humans,” he explains.

“I am both intrigued and mildly offended by the implication that I’m an animal from the wild…” Luz makes a face at the book and Amity grins. The twins just laugh at her.

“You can be pretty wild…,” Willow supplies helpfully.

“Fair”

“Thank you, Gus.” Amity smiles at the younger witch, who grins.

“Here, Amity.” Willow smiles, handing the other witch a potted plant. Their flowers with wide, pure white petals.

“It’s an Emoticanthea plant. Also known as…”

Amity reaches up to touch one of the flowers and they all suddenly shift to a bright sunny yellow.

“Mood flowers,” Willow laughs and Amity grins at them.

“Oh, that’s cool!” Luz breathes, leaning in close to look at it. Amity glanced at her and smiled. the flowers change to a deep fuchsia and Willow giggles as Amity whips her hand away from the petals.

“Thank you, Willow,” Amity says, cheeks pink. This was a dangerous plant when Luz was near.

“Oh!” Luz digs in her pocket and pulls out the small dark blue wrapped gift. “Here Amity, this is… it’s from Lilith, but she said only if you want it.” She holds out the present.

Amity hesitates.

She wants to forgive her old mentor, she does. She’s just afraid of being hurt again. She trusted Lilith and she used her to cheat. She wouldn’t say her pride wasn’t stung by the fact that she hadn’t thought she could win under her own power. Though now the idea of trying to beat Luz in a witch’s duel is completely ridiculous to her.

“Taking the gift doesn’t mean you have to forgive her,” Luz says after a few seconds. “She’s trying…”

Amity nods and takes the package and pulls away the paper. She opens it and her eyes go wide.

“Whatcha get?” Edric leans over, trying to see into the open package.

Amity pulled out a necklace.

It looks like a large coin made of carved stone, with runes etched into the surface around it and they glow a faint pink in Amity’s hand. All the witches in the room look shocked, so Luz knows she’s missing something.

“What is it?” she finally asks, tilting her head curiously and glances around at the others.

“It’s a power amulet…,” Amity mumbles numbly.

“A what?” Luz is as confused as ever.

“A power amulet,” Willow says. “Their ancient magic artifacts. They’re incredibly rare, you wear it, and over time it absorbs power from you to store. So if you’re in danger or something you can use up all the stored power in the amulet to cast a much more powerful spell,” she explains.

“Oooooh” Luz looks at the stone coin hanging from a braided cord in a whole new light. “Magical present,” she mumbles with awe.

“Wow, Mittens, that’s some gift.” Emira stares at it wide-eyed.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen one before, just pictures in our textbooks,” Edric agrees.

Amity thumbs the coins gently. Willow is right, as far as anyone knows there are very few power amulets remaining in the boiling aisles, full-grown witches spend years of their lives searching for power amulets in vain. Where did she even get it, and to just give it to her?

Amity doesn’t know what to think.

For now, she slips it back into its box and nods, saying nothing.

“Didn’t you guys get her anything?” Luz turns to the twins, in an effort to break the sudden tension in the room; it works.

“The party is our present,” Emira says.

“Yea, and what’s with the accusations, you didn’t give her anything.” Edric sticks out his tongue.

“Luz doesn’t need to get me anything, she’s done enough.” Amity is quick to jump to her girlfriend’s defense. It’s true though, Luz has done so much for her, she doesn’t need more.

“Well, I didn’t buy you anything,” Luz admits. “But I do have a gift for you.” She grins excitedly. “We’re going to have to go back outside though.”

She and Edric carry the two large boxes she brought back out to the beach while everyone else follows in the dark.

Luz sets it down and starts digging through it, buzzing with excitement.

“You guys don’t have this on the Isles, so I thought this would be perfect to celebrate your birthday!” Luz says to Amity, grinning wildly.

“It’s not going to explode is it?” Amity asks with a laugh. She finds herself asking this question much too often ever since meeting Luz, she’s mostly joking though.

“Actually, yes.” Luz grins, and that grabs everyone’s attention.

The twins look absolutely giddy with excitement while everyone else looks very concerned by her answer.

“What is it?” Amity asks, suddenly worried.

“Patience, mi amor.” Luz smiles deviously as she pulls some long tube-shaped things from the box and moves away to stick them in the sand at the water’s edge. She lines up several and turns to them.

“Ready?” she asks, and her grin couldn’t be brighter, so against her better judgment, Amity nods.

“Yes!” The twins shout.

Luz pulls out a fire glyph and taps it.

She holds the flame up to the bottom of the tubes and a sizzling sound fills the air. They watch the small sparks travel up toward the bottom of the tube and suddenly it erupts, shooting into the sky, making everyone jump.

It climbs higher and higher before suddenly exploding in a bright wash of colored lights.

“Wow!” Gus shouts, Edric and Emira whoop, while Amity and Willow watch in amazement.

Luz runs down the line of tubes and lights them and the air is filled with explosions and colors of varying patterns.

When the last ones die down she turns to the witch’s who are still staring up at the sky in wonder.

“What was that!?” Gus turns to her and he’s still grinning.

“They’re called fireworks,” Luz says. “You shoot them off at celebrations and stuff.”

Edric is suddenly digging through one of the boxes, excited, and pulls out a package of long, hand-sized tubes. They’re significantly smaller than the ones Luz just set off.

“What are these?” he asks, turning to Luz

“Oh, those are Roman candles.” Luz takes them and opens it, handing him one. “Here…” she directs his arm out toward the ocean and lights the fuse. It sizzles for a few seconds and then a flaming blue ball shoots out of the end of it. He’s startled at first but then grins as they continue to shoot out the end at intervals, making a puffing sound as they do.

Luz hands one to everyone.

“Just light the fuse.” She shows them, and then they’re going off everywhere.

“This is awesome!” Gus says and Willow laughs in agreement.

Amity’s face is alight with astonishment as she watches them shoot over the ocean and Luz is smiling as she stands at her elbow, watching.

“In the human world people like to have roman candles fights,” she says.

“What’s that?” Amity turns to her.

“People shoot them at each other.”

Upon hearing that, the twins turn to each other with wicked grins and suddenly brightly colored flaming balls are whizzing back and forth across the beach, and then everyone is running and shooting, shrieks of laughter echoing everywhere.

When they’ve used them all up Luz shows them some of the other items in the box and the twins are delighted by the pen missiles and their loud screeching sounds as well as the smoke bombs. If they pocket a couple for later use, no one notices.

Luz explains the mechanics and then everyone is digging things out of the box and the beach is awash with pops, explosions, and bright colored lights. Luz digs out a small box and trots over to where Amity is sitting in the sand, watching the other four set off different things.

She plops down beside her and smiles as she pulls two long sticks out of the box and hands one to her.

“I think you’ll like these, they’re called sparklers,” she says and lights it and it begins to pop and crackle, throwing off sparks.

Amity jumps at first but when the sparks cause no pain, relaxes, smiling. She doesn’t think she’s stopped smiling all day.

“So, you like it?” Luz asks after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“I love it.” Amity turns to her and Luz can see the joy that lights up her entire face, and she feels incredibly proud of herself. “This… everything, it’s all just been so amazing,” Amity says, leaning into her and Luz wraps an arm around her back and squeezes.

“I’m glad.” Luz is grinning back.

Now that it’s dark, the beach is getting cold, and that’s a fine excuse for Amity to sit as close to Luz as possible, not that she really needs one.

Luz touches her sparkler to Amity and it lights.

“Watch this.” She quickly twirls it around and Amity can see the word 'Luz’ trace through the air, following the motion.

She reaches out and flicks her own wrist and her name traces through the air, making her giggle, which in turn makes Luz laugh.

They sit there, flicking out different shapes and words as they work through the box of sparklers.

Luz draws a heart in the yellow light before her sparkler dies and If it’s possible Amity smiles wider, and with the last dregs of her own, she flicks her wrist and the words 'i love you’ are traced in the air in bright light before it fades away, leaving them in the dark.

The next thing Luz knows is Amity’s hand on her cheek, turning her head and then her lips are on hers.

Everyone else is too preoccupied with watching the lights and colors of their fireworks to notice them.

They empty one box and decide to save the other for tomorrow night as they pack up and head inside, it’s nearly frigid out now.

It’s late and everyone is partied out.

They say their goodnights and make for the rooms they’ve been given for the weekend.

Amity walks into her room after brushing her teeth and sees a second bag sitting on the bed that is not hers. Before she can go ask anyone, Luz walks in and freezes upon seeing her.

“Did you need something, Luz?” She turns to her girlfriend.

"No, just… the twins said this was my room…,” she trails off and Amity blinks before scowling and stomping over to the doorway, past Luz, and sticks her head into the hall.

“Edric, Emira!” she yells and somewhere in the house, they hear loud snickering and the sound of running feet.

Amity growls, rolling her eyes before pulling her head back into the room.

“This is my room and they know it,” she grumbles.

“Oh, well Gus and Willow are in the other two rooms. I can go sleep on the couch,” Luz offers.

“No,” Amity says, and the tone leaves no room for argument. “You can stay here, we’ve slept in the same bed before,” she reminds, closing the door.

“I know, I just didn’t want to…” Luz makes some vague hand gestures. “…assume anything,” she finally says with a shrug.

“You’re fine, querida,” Amity says, kissing her cheek, and Luz smiles. She’ll never tire of that word coming from Amity’s lips.

“I’m gonna go change in the bathroom.” Luz hooks a thumb over her shoulder and goes to dig through her bag, pulling out some clothes and dashes out of the room.

Amity changes into her own nightwear and crawls under the covers.

She reaches over and pulls the book Gus gave her out of her bag and starts flipping through it.

It has a lot of interesting things but some of them sound so outlandish she’s not sure if it’s fact or not. Luz is kind of strange at times. Always in a good way, but strange nonetheless.

She’s been flipping through it for a few minutes when the door opens and Luz comes back in wearing her shorts and a tank top.

“Is that the book Gus gave you?” she asks, stuffing her clothes into her bag before crawling into bed and snuggling into her side, draping an arm across her waist and resting her face on Amity’s arm to look at the pages.

“Mhmm” she flips a page.

“Well, what does it say? Should I have a tail or wings?” she asks laughing. “Cause I’ll feel cheated if I should.”

Amity chuckles at her.

“No, no wings,” she says.

“Aww…,” she says sadly and Amity rolls her eyes.

“It says you shed your skin twice a year… do you?” Amity looks at her curiously.

“Not last I checked…” Luz grinned up at her.

“Spit acid venom when threatened…” Amity can barely read it with a straight face and Luz chokes on her laughter. The more they read the more ridiculous it gets.

“Where do they come up with this stuff?” Luz snickers and Amity grins.

“Well, I know you can’t glow in the dark…,” Amity says reading another line.

“No, but how great would that be?!” Luz lights up at the idea and Amity just laughs, finally closing the book and setting it on the bedside table.

“For you, that would be perfect,” Amity agrees, shuffling to lay down. She presses a brief kiss to Luz’s grinning mouth. “Goodnight, Luz.”

“Night!”

She draws a spell circle and the candles go out, casting the room in darkness.

She rolls onto her side and Luz quickly sucks up to her back, snuggling into her

They’re quite a while but Amity keeps shuffling around like she’s uncomfortable.

“You okay?” Luz mumbles after a while.

There’s a pause.

“Yeah…”

Luz frowns in the dark.

“You sure?”

Amity pauses, thinking. There’s something she wants but feels embarrassed to ask even though she knows that’s silly.

She mumbles something that Luz can’t quite hear.

“What?” she asks, and Amity sighs silently to herself.

“Can I… be the big spoon?” she mumbles and feels her face heat up in the dark, especially when she feels the hot breath from Luz’s laugh on the back of her neck.

“Of course, mi amor” she moves her arm and flips over and Amity is quick to turn and wrap her arm around Luz, her face buried in between her shoulder blades and she hums contentedly at the warmth and earthy smell she’s come to associate with the human, happy as she gets to hold Luz for a change, and pointedly ignoring her girlfriends knowing giggling.

They’re quiet again for a long while, Amity is nearly about to drop off before she feels Luz’s hand on hers in the dark.

“Hey…”

“Hmm?” Amity hums drowsily, eyes closed.

“It’s midnight,” Luz says and were she more awake she would be able to hear the glee in those words.

“And?” The word is a sleepy, half mumbled slur, and Luz feels the word as much as she hears it with Amity’s face pressed into her back.

“Happy birthday, Amity.” The hand on hers squeezes gently.

That brings her back to full consciousness.

She just squeezes Luz tighter.

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty: The Brazillian Business Man and his Silk Suit

Luz stood there on the edge of the mountain screaming out for Amity until her throat was raw.

She hadn’t seen where she landed. Beneath about twenty feet below her, there were piles of rocks and some shrubs covering the base of the mountain. Luz hadn’t realized just how deep the tunnel to the cave ran. The portal had been so deep inside the mountain, it was like they hadn’t climbed it at all.

Amity was down there somewhere. Luz kept hoping, praying, that any moment now she was going to climb out of one of the bushes, call out to Luz that she was okay, and they would meet outside the mountain.

That hadn’t happened.

But she kept screaming. Hoping. Praying.

“I don’t understand,” Hestia mumbled from right behind her. Now that the tremors had subsided and the portal had been shut down, she was more willing to stand near the edge next to Luz. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

Luz felt anger rise in her chest so quickly she couldn’t help but spin around on her.

“Of course it wasn’t! She wasn’t supposed to die! Amity always is the one who sacrifices everything for everybody. Couldn’t she for once get to share some of that burden? She deserved better!”

Hestia seemed surprised by her outburst, and Luz knew it wasn’t a good idea to scream at goddesses, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Amity was gone.

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Hestia said slowly, thankfully deciding not to take what Luz had said personally. “I meant that she is not the hero in the prophecy who is supposed to die.”

“What do you mean supposed to die? Nobody was supposed to die!” Guilt was beginning to eat its way up into Luz’s chest. She’d promised Amity things would be different, that maybe the prophecy was misleading. Now she finds out that wasn’t true?

Was Amity the wrong one? Even if she was, would Luz be able to handle Willow or Gus dying in her place? She didn’t have to ponder those horrific thoughts for much longer.

“Luz, you are the hero whose life ends.”

Luz was stunned into silence, her whole body freezing up.

“What?”

Hestia is watching her with careful eyes. They were so much warmer now that she’d been freed and Belos had fallen. She seemed to glow, her whole body illuminating a soft sheen. The healthiest nine year old she’d ever seen. She also shimmered with a sort of power, one that made Luz feel weird about looking down on.

But she was hooked onto Hestia’s words, desperate to understand. Hestia’s bright amber eyes flickered between Luz’s own brown ones, searching for something.

“It cannot be Amity who dies. It was her prophecy that foretold a death, but her hands would only bear the weight of the journey. You, on the other hand, are the most important piece to the puzzle. The escape.”

“It takes four…” Luz murmured softly, remembering her own prophecy, and Hestia offered a little smile.

“Yet I only saw two of you here today.”

“Willow and Gus, my companions… they’re fighting off the demigods,” Luz mumbled under her breath, running a hand through her hair. Luz might be a little dense sometimes, but she wasn’t stupid. And right now she was wracking her brain trying to figure out what was going on. “They bought us time to come down here and save you. And… and we did. And Amity’s gone. The prophecy lied!”

Hestia shook her head. “Luz Noceda, you’re quest is not over.”

“No, it’s not.”

Luz turned her head to the sound of the new voice, and at first, she clenched her sword, worried that she had a new enemy to fight. But this… this wasn’t an enemy.

It was a man, with deep chestnut coloured skin and wavy dark brown hair that was styled neatly on the top of his head. He had a chiselled jaw, and a clean five o’clock shadow covering his face. His eyes were light brown, and as Luz examined him closer as he slowly walked towards them, she noticed that there was a tiny slit in his thick eyebrows.

He was wearing an expensive-looking, slim-fit, dark blue silk suit, not dissimilar to the color of the one Luz wore to the fake prom, which already felt like eons ago. In his hand was a winged staff, with two real snakes curling around the ends of it. A Caduceus.

She would have known who he was without her new knowledge of the Greek Gods. Her Mami had always talked about him this way. A very successful businessman from Brazil, who'd she only met because he was vising the country on a work trip.

Her father, Hermes.

If Luz wasn’t so wired with grief, anger, and exhaustion, she might have been excited to meet him.

The messenger god was walking slowly towards them, towards Luz, and for a moment, she saw what looked like hesitance cross his face. It infuriated Luz. He’d been gone for her whole life, never bothering to show up or be there for her, and he chose now to intervene? Now to make his grand appearance?

A week ago, she would have felt honoured. Now, it felt like a slap in the face.

“Hello, Luz.”

She wanted to scream. To whip out her sword and slash Aletheia right across his face. But Luz didn’t have the resolve she wanted. She was upset, hurt, and heartbroken. She didn’t want to be angry at a father who’d never been around. That felt like an overreaction. She didn’t want to overreact. She just wanted Amity back.

“Hola, padre.”

It was colder than her usual tone, and Hermes didn’t miss it. He winced, and Luz felt a tiny twinge of satisfaction in her gut. He didn’t deserve to feel comfortable around her.

“I… know how you must feel about me,” he said quietly, “and I don’t blame you for it. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Luz echoed, her eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. “Sorry doesn’t cut it! I’ve been on this quest with just my friends without your help for almost two weeks. I’d been alone my whole life before coming to camp. Now Amity…” her voice breaks, and she shakes her head. “You should have been there. You should have helped me!”

“I have done my best to aid you on your quest,” Hermes insisted, gesturing to the sword in her hand. “I guided you to Peleus’ sword, the first key to the mountain. It’s the same one I enchanted centuries ago for him. I granted Aphrodite’s chariot great speed to get you to Indiana. You asked me to bless your throw in Orpheus’ manor, and I did just that.”

“You left my Mami,” Luz said through gritted teeth, even if her brain was buzzing with new information. “You left me to grow up with her alone.”

“Your mother is a strong, brave, and dedicated woman,” Hermes said with a nod. “I wanted to be there for you, but it was not my place to do so. All demigods must grow up alone, without the guidance of their goldy parents. And you are special, Luz. I could not interfere with the prophecy.”

She looked down at her now-battered white shoes, which had been brand new when she’d first come to camp. She wanted to argue with him. To go on and put Hermes in his place for being an absent father. But she just didn’t have the energy to argue with a god.

Hermes stepped forward, reaching out to her. Luz didn’t push him away. He settled his hands on her shoulders firmly.

“Luz, look at me.”

She looked up and blinked. She’d been wrong about his eye colour. They weren’t brown, but a deep bronzy hue. They were narrowed in a determination she thought was familiar. As she looked on, she realized why. It was not dissimilar to the look Alador had given her right at the end of their one on one conversation.

“"Por favor,” he pleaded, “déjame ayudarte."

Luz swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure how she felt about her father, but at the very least, she owed this much to Amity to do her best to finish the quest they’d started, even if she couldn’t.

“Okay. What do I need to do?”

Hermes was quick to step back and give Luz space, this time turning to Hestia, who Luz had completely forgotten was standing there.

“The portal will not be closed until we can make sure Belos will never be able to activate it again. His soul has reappeared in Charon’s office, just as it did the first time he died. He will be taken across the River Styx for trial, but he had prepared for something like this. His portal is on the outskirts of the Underworld, between the Fields of Asphodel and the River Acheron. Instead of wandering past the line with the dead, he will take a secret passageway back to the portal, and will try to open it again from the inside.”

“That makes no sense,” Luz retorted, “we’ve freed Hestia. The portal just can’t reopen without her.”

Hermes nodded, “you’d be right, usually. But the portal was able to fuse with the mountain and lock in Hestia’s hearth. She could be on Olympus, or on the moon, and it still wouldn’t matter. Her divine essence has fused with it.”

“Okay, so how do we stop the portal from reopening?”

Hestia and Hermes shared a look, and reality hit Luz like a truck.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Luz. But you’ll have to be the hero one last time,” Hestia said softly. “The portal must close.”

And Luz agreed. Amity had fallen down a mountain for this. For all of this to be over and done, and for Belos to never be able to hurt any demigod ever again.

“I’ll do it. I’ll go to the Underworld and close the portal.”

Hermes’ mouth twisted into a smile, something between pride and amusement. “It won’t be easy. You’ll have to get past Belos and his army. But I’ll help you in every way I can. You won’t be alone.”

Luz’s brow furrowed. “What, you’re coming with me?”

“Not quite,” he replied with a chuckle. It was deep and grizzly but also somehow soothing and gentle at the same time. “The Olympians cannot cross into Hades' realm without his consent. But I am not just the god of travellers, you know. I am the god who guides all travelling souls to the Underworld. I did not just come here to guide you, Luz. I came here with a message. There is a soul the pantheon has agreed to spare if you complete your quest and stop this portal from bringing the downfall of Olympus.”

Luz's heart started to race. Did he mean…?

Hermes reached out and placed a hand back on Luz’s shoulder. This one was much gentler than the last, firm grip. It was almost fatherly.

“Amity is not a casualty of this prophecy, Luz. The two of you must destroy the portal from the inside, and stop Belos for good. You’ll find her waiting in line to be judged. But a warning: she won’t be the demigod you once knew. Many in the Underworld need to be reminded of who they are.”

Luz wasn’t worried about that. Amity was the strongest person she knew. When they were together, they were unstoppable.

“She must hurry,” Hestia muttered, rubbing her palms together. It was a weird gesture, she was moving so quickly it looked like she was trying to catch a flame between her hands. “I can already feel my powers weakening.”

“I can’t go without telling Willow and Gus,” Luz said, preparing to turn and sprint back up the mountain path from which she came.

“You must! We are out of time,” Hermes said with a shake of his head. “It takes four to escape, and release goddess caged”. They have their own role to play in allowing the portal to open, and guarding it while you’re on the other side. And… they will need to recover Amity if her soul is to come back with you.”

Luz hesitated. She’d come so far with their help, she couldn’t just… leave.

The hand on her shoulder gave a comforting squeeze. “Luz, por favor, se nos acabó el tiempo.

I will stay here, and guide them while you are gone. I swear it on the River Styx.”

“As will I,” Hestia said with a nod. “I swear it.”

Luz took a deep breath. She needed to get a grip. Besides, after all this, what was one more quest to the Underworld to stop an evil demigod from taking over the world?

Easy peasy.

“Okay. When we find the portal, how do we close it?”

“You will need this,” Hestia said, and Luz realized that she hadn’t just been rubbing her hands together for nothing. In her hands was a tiny flame, and she extended it out to Luz. “One touch with this on the portal and it will open for you and Amity to walk back through. When the power of my hearth has touched both sides, I will be able to use it to burn the connection between us. The portal should fall apart.”

Luz was a little nervous to take the flame, but she was surprised how easy it fit in her hand. There was no burning like she thought, but rather a warm tingling sensation right in the middle of her palm. After a moment, it shrank and shifted into an ambered coloured plastic lighter.

“A warning,” Hestia added, and Luz glanced up at her tone. “Only a living soul may harness my hearth. It is yours and yours alone to carry.”

Luz nodded, gently setting the lighter in her pocket. “I won’t give it to anybody else. I promise.”

“Then it’s time,” Hermes said, and Luz tilted her head to look up at him. “I must allow you to pass into the Underworld. Are you ready?”

More than she would ever be. She shrank Aletheia back into a ring, letting it rest onto her finger. She was going to go down there and bring Amity back if it was the last thing she ever did.

“I am. So, how do I get there? Are you going to lend me a flying chariot?”

Hermes laughed. “Not exactly. Take my hand.”

He extended it out for her, and Luz took it. She was surprised how soft it was for a god, but then was somehow equally surprised when he gripped it tightly, not letting her go. His other hand came down to the front pocket of her shorts, the opposite on to where she put the lighter, and he slipped something inside.

“I need you to look at me and not look away. This won’t be pleasant, but it’s the only way for a living soul to travel through the Underworld unscathed.”

Then, Hermes started to glow. At first, it was oddly beautiful, his whole body lighting up golden around the edges of his suit, like a picturesque model of a Bloomberg business magazine. Then, it got uncomfortable, and Luz was squinting, and she knew right away her eyes were starting to burn as it got brighter and brighter.

It was bordering on painful when her head started to get woozy. “Dad, are you sure this won’t kill me?”

The last thing she remembers is his soothing, deep-throated, chuckle. “Well, I've never done this before, but even so I'm fairly confident it will work.”

The burning got so bright she couldn’t see anything but white, and her whole body tingled like she was burning alive without the excruciating physical pain that should have been paired with it.

Then, there was nothing.

[mollyscribbles]

Owl House rewatch thoughts

* Hard to say from what little we see of her, but I think Luz' mom might have been less worried about her daughter reading fantasy and more about the "multiple incidents of bringing uncontained live animals and explosives to school" thing.

* If Eda considers Luz' Azura book as being only useful as kindling, it means she's not inclined to view human books as something she can make snails on.  Considering how unique her portal to the human realm is treated, where did Amity get her Azura books?  I've seen people suggest the author travels between realms, but if that were the case, Amity would've been able to get the latest volume from a local store rather than needing to borrow Luz' copy.

* Suggestions for other species that escaped from the Boiling Isles: the platypus and peacock mantis shrimp.

* "Weak nerd arms" ok really identifying with Luz here.

* Really love this take on Chosen One stories.  Because yes, there is an appeal in being told you're special, you're unique in the best possible way, but ultimately this is a story about people who aren't "special" so much as outcasts who do their best with the situation they're in.  Which is something that a lot more people can aspire to be.

* The fact that this was a set scheme(as the multiple fake maps would indicate) rather than a trap specifically designed for Luz indicates that even people who've spent their lives on the Boiling Isles would be drawn to the idea of being a magical chosen one. I bet Amity's not the only one to have an interest in fantasy literature around here.

* Oh wow Amity's first appearance outside the credits is . . . something.  It's easy to forget just how far she grew in one season.

* Eda's not a *bad* teacher, so much as she has yet to learn that teaching requires expanding on a concept you introduce and explaining your reasoning.  "Here is what you can learn from tasting snow" instead of just "here, taste these different kinds of snow"

* Hm.  For someone who despairs at the concept of the school teaching blind obedience, her teaching style kinda relies on it.  Bit of a hypocrite there, Eda.

* Gonna be honest, the first time I watched this and King mentioned Eda sneaking a drink of elixir, I thought it was going to turn out to be a magic-looking flask.

* It seems slightly odd that King's apparently known Eda for a while but didn't have any idea of the curse.  Maybe she was just REALLY good about keeping up with her elixirs pre-series.

* Really like the metaphor for a chronic illness that's kept under control by medication.

* If the Emperor's Coven provides access to all forms of magic, you'd think others aspiring for a spot would be permitted a multi-track education at Hexside.  That might be why none of them seem to be that impressive at magic when they're supposed to be the "best of the best" -- even if they have *access* to all forms of magic, they've only had training in one specific field during the bulk of their education.

* lbr, Lilith's cheating was worse because at least Eda told Luz what she was doing.

* You'd think Willow and Gus might have caught on that Luz didn't have permission for them to come over when she told them to hide from Eda.

* It's nice that Eda realizes raising a kid with a "screw the rules" mindset will result in a kid who breaks her rules sometimes.  Cleaning up the mess she caused is really the correct punishment for Luz; directly dealing with the consequences of her actions but otherwise considering it a lesson learned.

* Reading to kids in the library is an A+ way to shift Amity from "Jerk" to "Jerk with a heart of gold" territory.

* Prediction: At some point, Luz will return to the human world (probably only briefly but Eda won't know at the time) and Eda will come across the "Coping with empty nest syndrome" book Luz got her from the library.  She'll cry.  King will cry.  Hooty will cry.  Every viewer will cry.

* Pretty sure that, given what the world is like, if any of them ended up questioned about their actions during the body swap episode, they could just say "Oh yeah I was body swapped that day. What'd I get up to?" and everyone would consider this a perfectly logical explanation for them acting out-of-character.

* HC that Hexside is fully aware some illusion-track students skip class by having an illusion of themselves attend in their place, but they figure a student maintaining a decent replica of themselves for the duration of the class period requires enough effort to count as a form of class participation, so they just let everyone think they're getting away with it.

* Gus and Willow are really ride-or-die friends.  Always nice to have.

* Probably some of the mystery appeal will be gone from the Human Appreciation Society once a legit human is just attending classes on a regular basis; being able to get definitive answers to questions rather than spending your time speculating would cut back on the draw.

* I love all the details they include on this show -- a lot of other shows would just stick in scribbles while panning past pictures instead of writing out all of Eda's incident reports.

* The pallisman is a neat concept; sort of like a mix of a wand and a familiar, a magical control that will have opinions of its own.

* Given Bat Queen apparently has enough of, um, a biological aspect to have kids, I wonder if that means Owlbert is capable of laying eggs.  Or having eggs with another owl/pallisman if the male pronouns are anything to go by.

* I mean even Phineas and Ferb didn't question Perry laying an egg when he uses male pronouns so could go either way in terms of what Disney would allow.

* Reading the book fair signs, it looks like sci-fi is a popular genre in the Boiling Isles.  Makes sense, since what we'd consider Fantasy would be more contemporary/urban fantasy to them.

* Getting the vibe that someone on staff had a less-than-amicable experience co-writing with a friend to inspire this one. And/or experience with shitty contracts.

* The Hexside requirements also required knowledge of basic runes, but given Luz apparently had no issue with that I'm guessing she just picked those up offscreen.

* "I've seen worse" is the ideal admissions response tbh.  Like . . . she pulled off the required spells and the headmaster has seen decades of students' awkward first attempts.  It probably counts as a good day when no one's admissions test resulted in needing to bring in someone from the Construction Track to repair the building.

* It's very reminiscent of D&D that the majority of the cast has the response of "This is clearly a trap.  Let's check it out!"

* You'd think that carnival fortune tellers wouldn't have the same appeal in a world where it's something you study at school.  Unless it's viewed the same way as those "magic" shows they have sometimes where the tricks all involve chemical reactions.

* Kinda surprised a school that teaches kids fire spells doesn't have some kind of fire suppression system in place.

* Hrm.  Guessing the mind guardian went back and undid their own damage offscreen; otherwise they'd have had to go re-do the repairs before leaving.

* Good they had the wifi and charging cable coming through the portal to explain why Luz' phone still has service and the battery's not long dead.

* Luz, how have you survived this long with your instinct for pushing buttons.  The same as the rest of humanity in a world full of buttons, I suppose.

* Probably if they thought about it, the best criteria for picking Grom royalty would be less who's the most skilled at magic and more who has the most low-key fears. . . . nvm, having a Stay-Puft incident would cause them to reasonably scrap that approach.  Maybe appointing someone who obsesses over grades would have better odds of producing a relatively-simple-to-combat exam paper.

* I'm thinking the letters are written by Eda, who doesn't intend anything sinister by it so much as being the type to cover her bases when pulling off a scam and realizing Luz' mother would need some evidence to indicate her daughter was safely at camp.

* The band-aids clearly have some healing spell built-in, considering they've been used to heal inanimate objects.

* someone on the writing staff has a long-standing rant about Quidditch they've been holding back on.

* I know that normally the humor in the cut from "she's finally growing up." to Luz planning the heist would be that she's doing something that sensible adults would consider to be a bad idea, but if Eda saw her just then she'd wipe away a tear of pride and go "Her first self-planned heist! They grow up so fast!"

* Eda's the one who talks about cheating at stuff, but Lilith has a habit of playing *dirty*.

* I would like to say I appreciate them going with a more serious credit sequence because it was disconcerting with Star Vs when a dark ending was followed by "I THINK EARTH'S A REALLY GREAT PLACE"

* Lilith may have made a 30-years-late attempt to redeem herself, but I really don't trust her.  I don't quite want her dead, but she DID spend decades trying to force her sister to join the Emperor's Coven as a prerequisite for curing her curse.

[popsiclemania]

My 2020 in K dramas (+1 J drama)

I began watching k-dramas in 2018 but I’ve never watched as many shows, Korean or otherwise, as I have in this one. 2020 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I think what helps me really enjoy this over Bollywood+Malayalam+ American pop culture I grew up with is that a smirk on the wrong character’s face doesn’t make me seethe with rage and want to burn everything down. It’s not like growing up with SRK on screen and then having SRK wannabes leave you with lifelong trauma in reality. I can just move on. It’s removed enough from my everyday life but still familiar in a generic Asian family way. Does that make sense? It’s not perfect and it’s not free of its own harmful stereotypes and narratives, but there’s enough of the good stuff to make you stick around. This year I fell in love with Nana, Kim Hye Soo, Han Yeri, Park Eun bin, Ahn Eun jin, Kim Bum, Kim Yong ji, Flower Boy’s Go Dok Mi and Search:WWW’s Bae Tami. Cancelled Ji Chang wook (bye). Desperately missed Kim Jae Wook. Had thoughts on Hwang In Yeop, which were mostly heart eyes. Discovered J dramas and fell in love with Cherry Magic’s Adachi.

My year-in-review below:

LOVED

Into The Ring - I am so glad I saved this for a rainy day because it’s exactly the kind of upright citizen shenanigans my unemployed ass needed at the end of the year.

Goo Se Ra thinks the govt should work for the people but that doesn’t mean her own moral compass always points north. Her purpose is to make steady money, and I love seeing her go hard to survive and cobble together what she needs. The thing that really works for me is that she wants to be good, but she isn’t always. And you get to see her be disappointed, upset, embarrassed and hurt from being publicly kicked in the gut as she navigates a job where she appears, on the surface, to be a supremely confident, self-serving, accidental politician. What you see as her naiveté is mostly just her being a regular person in an environment dictated by backhand deals and rich people politics. She gets hit again and again, and you see what it does to her sense of worth to get back up again, how she grapples with her self. And through all this the show is funny?! Se Ra is what writers of manic pixie characters think they are doing and not doing at all. Love her friends, and Jang Hye-jin is *chef’s kiss*!

Hyena - Kim Hye Soo’s Jung Geum Ja is perhaps Se Ra’s older and darker contemporary.  Geum Ja is a survivor and will get what she wants and where she wants to, however many hells she has to cross. She’s single-minded about her success, ruthless and has no qualms about bending morals to get the outcome she needs. She’ll never compromise on who she is or justify how she lives, can build people up and also tear them down, but she also knows care and kindness.

I turned to Signal for more Kim Hye Soo but was disappointed in how the first few episodes seemed to shortchange her. May try again in 2021.

(Highly recommend @saltr0se​’s  fic series which just GETS Geum Ja so well. Fic writers are the best)

Search: WWW (Finished in 2020) - It took me half a year to finish this. I started watching Search in Oct 2019 and raced through the first 6 episodes because I couldn’t take my eyes off the rollercoaster of Bae Tami’s life. And then I had to take a break because it was a little too close to the frenetic pace of my own industry. As @drivingsideways wrote, a lot of Search is premised around ‘patriarchy? who dat?’, which is why watching its politics play out is so fascinating.  It’s also deliciously turmoil-y to watch a very clear-sighted, weathered Tami put on rose-tinted glasses for her romance and then frequently peer over them to evaluate whether it could actually meld into her life.

Catch The Ghost - Kim Seonho oozes charm and perhaps Startup was a showcase of how effectively he can be a typical male lead. But Catch is exactly not that. Go Jiseok and Yoo Ryeong have moulded their lives around to meet their most desperate wishes in life and in the process also left parts of themselves untended. There is guilt, pain and need. Now guess who will tend to whose wounds? Their dynamic is electric even when the central mystery flags towards the last few episodes of the show. I really hope Moon Geun Young is doing well and gets more amazing roles soon. She is so good here.

(Highly recommend @melonatures​‘s fic for putting that sizzling on-screen chemistry into words. HOW?!) Cherry Magic - Stories about painfully awkward people are my jam and Eiji Akaso gets Adachi’s shy, nervy energy so right. Cherry Magic is straight up just 12 hours of 🥺🥺🥺. 

Stranger/Secret Forest - I’ve been devouring the entirety of Agatha Christie’s work this year after Stranger reminded me how comforting murder mysteries can be. I love Bae Doona. I also love characters who don’t get social norms, not always because they are out to flout them but because that’s just not how their mind/brain works. (have to watch S2)

Flower Boy Next Door -  Honestly, the opening scene introducing Park Shin Hye’s character Go Deok Mi sold me on this immediately. An introverted, penny pinching copy editor living alone and working from home thanks to extreme social anxiety? Love. All the side characters are a lot of fun and I’ve never loved Kim Seulgi and Go Kyung Pyo more. It’s a warm show, slowly rounding off the sharp edges of every character.

JUST FUN

The Spies Who Loved Me -  It’s been a year of disappointing rom-coms and Spies kind of quietly turned it around for me. I want to be the fly on Yoo In Na’s wall as she figures how to play her characters. I’ve only seen her in 3 roles but somehow she always manages to be in character arcs that don’t short change her. Spies could’ve been and sometimes is the regular heterosexual fare, but In Na ups the ante over and over again, coming out on top as the smartest person in the room.

ENJOYED WITH *RESERVATIONS*

I have to watch A Piece Of Your Mind again because I don’t understand how Jung Hae In and Chae Soo bin built SO MUCH warmth and crackling chemistry with barely a kiss. I was iffy about how the whole AI thing started off and the tortured musician plotline (angsty male artists will forever be an eyeroll for me).

Park Min Young is a queen who never disappoints and When The Weather Is Nice is everything you want in a winter romance. My reservation was in how they explore so much of domestic abuse and the complex ways its traumatised the women in this family. I’m ok with the characters having imperfect ways of processing and understanding the violence, I welcome it. I’m not ok with the show dancing around whether the pivotal crime was justified/ self defence (it was).

A lot of dramas did this. I loved Han Yeri and Choo Ja Hyun in My Unfamiliar Family, I didn’t like the free pass the show gave their dad’s abusive character. 

Hwang Jung Eum’s comedy style is generally not my thing but she was pretty great in Mystic Pop-UP Bar. But I’m side-eyeing the sanctity surrounding motherhood. Maybe I should read more about babies and Korean folklore.

Hospital Playlist was my comfort watch through June and July. I think its wholesomeness and non-plot writing came at a good time for me. But I noticed then that the throughline for all main characters was moral superiority and hence what I then saw as *wholesomeness*. It’s kind of what makes it a grating rewatch in parts. Plus the real life of misogyny of Yoo Yeon Seok makes me want to push his angelic catholic character off a cliff. (For context, i was raised catholic). I want to continue loving Chae Song Hwa, and for that the showrunners need to stop cornering her with overbearing romantic interests (let that woman breathe! she literally ran away to another city!) 

Hospital is good at creating moments of comfort, so much so that I went to watch Reply 1988 after it, but had to drop it coz I couldn’t get into it. Maybe I’ll come back to it next year.

Once Again is what I call joint family propaganda. What it does well is lay bare the mechanics of living in a society that prizes the heterosexual family structure, the loops you have to jump through to hide when you break its rules and what happens when you are found out. I love the characters, their fights, their frustrations. I just don’t love the validation of joint families. (context: i grew up in an oppressive joint family lol). In my au, Nahee and Gyujin don’t get married again or immediately have children, but take the long route to figuring out how to love the person the other is. Gahee is openly dating Hyo shin and her parents have to figure out how to process her success and her romance. Young dal and Ok boon have to learn to stop dictating their children’s lives.  Joon sun runs his company from home, so his wife Hyun kyung can work on what she wants. Choyeon, Joori and Ga-yeon go back to being flamboyant AF and the market learns to not judge. Gyujin and Jaesok have to actually work on the relationship with their mother and what sent her into depression. Just a lot of learning involved.

Just Between Lovers was a nice watch, i just don’t get how Kang doo and Ha Moon So’s relationship will survive his constantly simmering anger. 

Crash Landing on You was so much fun until the main romance turned angsty, but it gave us North Korean soldier shenanigans and the epic romance of Seo Dan and Alberto Gu that we needed more of.

Tale of The Nine Tailed is probably what Goblin wished it was. I, however, will never be over Lee Rang. (Also, when can gods stop meeting their love interests as babies? Asking for my sanity)

I literally ignored everything in Oh My Ghost except Park Bo Young and Kim Seulgi and it was amazing. 

NOPE

Goblin, Dinner Mate, Oh My Baby and My Secret Romance were a whole lot of NO, NAHI, ILLAAA. 

I loved hate-watching The King:Eternal Monarch with the rest of k drama tumblr but someone please take away Kim Eun-sook’s access to gigantic budgets and all-star casts.

It was painful to watch Do You Like Brahms squander away its potential but I’m glad to be introduced to Park Eun bin. Age of Youth is next on watchlist.

More than Friends to me is only Ahn Eun jin. Someone give her amazing lead roles asap.

Why did Record of Youth do that to Park So Dam and her clothes? Just why

WANTED TO WATCH, BUT COULDN’T BECAUSE *INTENSE* 

World Of The Married, It’s Okay Not To Be Okay, Sweet Home, Extracurricular, Penthouse, Flower of Evil, Lie After Lie

WILL WATCH NEXT YEAR

SF8, Stove League, Birth Care Centre but I’ll start the new year with School Nurse Files coz it looks very good.

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch3

In the spirit of experimentation I tried out a different art programme that was recommended to me.  I’m not sure I’m a fan and it took me far too long to work out the basic functions (most of which I still haven’t figured out) but it does have cool star stamps.

Thank you to @willow-salix​ for putting up with my wobbles over this fic and for all her help, editing and suggestions.

Earlier parts: One, Two

Chapter Three

John tiptoed back to the room he had been allocated to share with Alan, his head buzzing with ideas.  Before, everything his father had mentioned had seemed hypothetical but with all four of them in the room together it looked like this plan could be more than just a pipedream.  Their father obviously thought they had the skills between them.  With all the potential operatives together the discussions had continued long into the night.  A rescue organisation with first responder, transporter, space rocket and communications satellite.  

For him it would be the chance to live amongst the stars.  A career in space was something he had been striving towards.  Every extra credit course.  Every summer camp and internship.  Each had been a steppingstone towards his dream of working for the World Space Agency.  And then his father had dropped the bombshell that there could be an alternative.  He would still need to complete a training course at Tracy College, as would Scott and Virgil, but he was being offered a golden opportunity albeit one that would take several years to come to fruition.  Never usually one to give in to flights of fantasy John found himself daydreaming.

The door latch clicked closed and John was half way to his bed before he realised anything was amiss.  The room was dark and still.  

Too still.

There was no restless turning of a sleeper disturbed by his return.  No heavy breathing of a brother at rest.  The room was silent and disconcertingly empty.  

He didn’t panic.  John had never understood the point of panicking.  It rarely achieved anything and was often a hindrance.  Panicking was something other people did.  John didn’t panic, he used logic; he found it much more effective.    

Alan’s bed was not only empty of his missing sibling, it was also bereft of its coverings.  The mattress stripped of its duvet and pillows.  The floor length curtain fluttered slightly and a gentle breeze broke the heavy stillness of the room.  John stepped over to investigate.

Alan was stretched out on his back on the balcony, the duvet forming a barrier between the teen and the hard planking.  At first John thought he was asleep.  The room itself was stuffy and he could see the appeal of retreating to the balcony even if it made more sense to just adjust the air conditioning.  He was debating whether or not to wake Alan up and move him back inside when a voice spoke from the floor.

“Finally finished then?”

John chose to ignore the question.  Jeff had made it clear that the plans were not to be discussed with the youngest two until things had progressed further.  There was still a lot that could go awry, not least espionage, and secrecy was a pivotal concern.  

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that.  Never had the chance to see the southern stars before.  I was hoping we could look at them together.  Thought you might finally have time now.”

There was an accusatory edge to Alan’s voice and John felt a stab of guilt.  Ever since he had got back from college Alan had been asking him for an astronomy session but there had always been some excuse.  His college work.  Meetings with Dad.  Or sometimes just wanting to be alone as he missed the freedom and solitude of his own apartment.  Alan had latched on like a shadow.  He’d even protested against having to share a room with Alan for this Olympics trip even if Scott and Virgil were also having to share, the penthouse apartment not being equipped with enough rooms for them to each have their own.  All his little brother wanted to do was spend time with him.  John realised he hadn’t even given the younger boy a chance.

“Budge over.”

Alan shuffled across on the duvet, making room for John to stretch out beside him.  They lay close, side by side.  Both were of a similar build and their lithe forms fitted easily on the impromptu mattress.  Alan was still several growth spurts shy of reaching his full potential but it looked like he too, as had happened to all his brothers except Gordon, would one day exceed 6 foot.  Under the stars they both loved the similarities were more marked than their differences.

“Seen anything interesting?”

“You missed Jupiter but to be honest the light pollution is almost as bad as L.A.  I’d love to head out to the dark sky reserve and take a proper look but I guess this this will have to do.  I don’t know when I’ll next be in this hemisphere again.  Even Crux is hard to make out against the glow.”

John followed the arm of his pointing sibling and could just make out the constellation that was one of the defining features of the southern hemisphere.  Alan was right, the light pollution of the city meant the stars were barely visible.  John had to bite his tongue over one thing though, if Jeff’s plan came to fruition then the southern skies could soon become the norm for Alan.

The pointing arm began moving about.

“So if Crux is there.  And Centaurus is there.”  There was a pause as Alan consulted his mental map and made a few calculations.  “Then home must be over….there.”

“You’ve worked out where L.A. is?”  He made his own rapid calculations and came up with a similar answer.  He couldn’t help but be slightly impressed.  Alan had always shown a similar interest in the stars to himself and it looked like this interest hadn’t waned.

“Well I wouldn’t trust it as accurate.  I just like to test myself whenever I go somewhere new.  I was thinking of Kansas though.  L.A. isn’t really home.  Never has been.”  There was a pause then, barely whispered, “You guys aren’t there.”  

John looked across but Alan was still staring resolutely up at the sky.  He knew he didn’t associate Los Angeles with home.  He had left for Harvard just before the move to California.  To him the apartment in the city was just somewhere to visit between semesters.  But surely Alan should have been more settled by now.  He had lived in the city for several years with Dad and Gordon.  

He thought back to his latest visit.  With the exception of the bedrooms the apartment looked like a show home; devoid of personality.  It was a place where individuals coexisted rather than somewhere that a family lived.  It was a stark contrast to the slightly run down farmhouse with the mismatched furniture collected over the years.  The marks on the walls that each told a story; the stain from when Alan got hold of Virgil’s paints, the dent in the doorframe from when Scott threw a baseball inside.  The apartment had no such stories.  No memories.  Alan was right, it wasn’t a home.  

“I doubt we can make it out to the dark sky reserve, the schedule is pretty tight, but if you want we take a trip out to the mountains when we get back.  Take the telescope.”

“Really?”  The eagerness was barely disguised.  

“Sure.  I’ll still have a couple of weeks before I have to head back east.  I’m sure we can wrangle a few days away.”

They lay side by side staring up at unfamiliar skies until they drifted off to sleep, lulled by the perpetual murmur of the city below them.

xoxoxox

John awoke to the sun in his eyes and cramp in his foot.  In a moment of disorientation he couldn’t work out why his bed was so hard or the room was so bright as he clutched at the offending limb and attempted to stretch out his toes.

His startled flailing woke the figure to the side of him.  Alan stretched, bounced up off the floor, then held out a hand to his incapacitated sibling.  John grasped it gratefully and levered himself up.  The cramp might have eased but his whole body felt stiff from the unintentional slumber on the decking.  He wondered how on earth Alan was able to move about so freely.

“You want first shower?”  Alan asked as they headed back into the room.

John nodded gratefully.  He hadn’t meant to bed down under the stars and as such was still wearing his clothes from the day before.  After travelling across continents and then sleeping outside the outfit was decidedly rumpled and worse for wear.

He stepped into the en-suite and shucked the dirty clothes onto the floor.  The shower was hot and powerful, the steady stream of drops beat against his aching muscles.  He could have stayed there all morning but the sound of Alan rapping on the door reminded him that this was a shared space and there was a schedule to be adhered to.

Breakfast was a quiet affair in the lounge area with plenty of coffee to fuel the day although Alan stuck to juice and water, commenting that he couldn’t understand why they all felt the need to drink the bitter brew.  This just drew amused smirks from his elders, sure that one day he would discover the delights of the bean.  Coffee was treated with reverence by the other Tracys.  Virgil didn’t like to venture outside before his second cup.  Jeff insisted on a fresh ground beans of single origin.  Scott and John were less particular in their tastes but even they liked to start the day with a strong fix to kick start the senses.

The morning was spent pool-side watching a mixed assortment of heats and races.  Alan had the whole schedule memorised and counted down the events until Tracy four was due to take his turn in the water.  He seemed to know every statistic of every competitor and chattered away to any brother that would listen. 

At last, towards the end of the session, the men’s 200m butterfly was announced.  The family sat forward expectantly.  Gordon was tipped to do well but his heat was a difficult draw.  Both the Australian and Dutch competitors would be in the water with him and all of them had their sights set on medals.  Three medal hopefuls but only two places available in the final.  There could be no saving himself; every lap mattered.

At the sound of the gun Gordon launched himself into the water.  Five sets of eyes tracked him from above, barely daring to blink.  Five hearts thumped as the battle was fought.  Five collective breaths were released as the timing board announced what they had all thought they had seen; second place for USA.  Gordon would live to fight another day.

Emerging into the bright sunshine of early afternoon the family found themselves basking in the refreshing breeze that wafted through the Olympic Park.  The gallery had suffered from the intense heat and humidity common to swimming pools the world over.  The echoing acoustics had made the cheers of the crowd deafening and it was a relief to step back into outside world.

“Well, that’s it for today” Jeff announced to his assembled brood.  “There are some taekwondo and athletics tickets for tomorrow and then Gordon’s final is the day after.  For now though I’ve got to head back to the hotel and catch up with some work, don’t make plans for me for dinner.” 

Leaving them to sort it out amongst themselves Jeff turned and headed back to the hotel.  The brothers knew their father well enough to read between the lines.  He evidently didn’t want to be disturbed and the expectation was that they would stay away from the hotel, at least for the next few hours and preferably until nightfall.  

Scott was about assume responsibility for the group when John spoke up.

“I thought I might take Alan out to where the mountain biking is taking place.  You don’t need tickets for that.”  Alan’s eyes lit up at the prospect of spending time with his favourite available brother and watching people hurtling at speed down steep hills and over rocks.  “You two don’t need to come if it’s not your thing.” 

“You sure you’ll be ok with him?”

“Seriously Scott, we don’t need a chaperone.  Alan and I will be perfectly fine by ourselves.”  

Scott shrugged in an ‘if you’re sure’ sort of gesture.  As much as he knew Alan would love to see people risk life and limb in the name of sport he also knew it most definitely was not John’s usual choice of activity.  Still, if it got him out of an afternoon of playing sheepdog he wasn’t going to question John’s motives too deeply.  

He turned to Virgil.  “Looks like it’s you and me then.  Unless you also want to watch the mountain biking?”

“Not really.  I’d rather stay central.  Maybe head over to the marina.”

“Sounds good to me.  You’ll give me a ring if you need anything.”  John just rolled his eyes in response.

The siblings split into pairs; one set heading off to the taxis that would take them to the artificial hill course, the other set heading to the waterfront.

The harbour area was packed with visitors and a little too crowded to be comfortable.  Scott and Virgil headed away from the Olympic area, following the esplanade until the crowds thinned out.  They had had enough sporting hype for one day and were ready to just relax.  Scott’s leave was only a few days for the duration of Gordon’s events and he knew he would soon be immersed back in Air Force life.  Best make use of the opportunity for some rest and relaxation while he could.

They walked in companionable silence until, as if by mutual accord, their steps led them to a waterfront bar.  The sun was starting to dip towards the horizon but the evening was still warm and the parasols at each table gave some welcome shade.  The brothers found themselves drawn to an empty table.  They were soon comfortably settled, the ocean glittering in front of them mirroring the sparkling condensation on their beer glasses.

Scott took a deep pull and sank half his drink before Virgil had barely sipped an inch earning himself a disapproving look from the younger man.  Scott chose to ignore it.  He rarely got down time.  There were always so many responsibilities.  His squadron.  Younger brothers.  But John had taken custody of Alan and Virgil was old enough to look after himself meaning Scott could enjoy not being in loco parentis for a while.  If he chose to enjoy that freedom by drinking a little too much a little too quickly then so be it.

A second drink swiftly followed the first and the conversation flowed just as freely as the beer.  Of all the sibling bonds Scott’s and Virgil’s was probably the strongest despite them rarely getting time together any more. 

As the glasses stacked up Scott beckoned to a nearby waitress who was collecting empties from the outside tables.  He beamed at her causing the dimples in his cheeks to appear like craters.

“Hey beautiful, could we get another couple of drinks over here?  And maybe some scotch chasers?”

She nodded and Scott turned to watch her as she headed back inside, his eyes raking up and down her body.

“Put your tongue away” Virgil commented.  “You’re practically drooling.”

“Can’t a guy appreciate the finer things in life?”

“Not if it means perving over the locals.  She’s just trying to do her job.”

“I am not perving.  I’m admiring.  I thought you were meant to be the artist seeing the beauty in everything?”

They arrival of said waitress with the next round of drinks soon put an end to their argument and cause the re-emergence of the dimples.  He fixed her a look with his startling blue eyes that he knew most women found irresistible.

“Thanks.  Say, are you working late tonight?”

“Late enough.”

“Only I was hoping someone with local knowledge could help show me the sights.”

“Sorry boys.  No moonlighting as a tour guide.  It’s company policy.”  She stacked the empty glasses onto her tray and headed back inside.

“Well that shot you down.”  Virgil smirked.  “We’ve barely been here twenty four hours and already you’re trying to get laid.  Can’t you keep it in your pants for one trip?  We’re here to support Gordon, not so that you can add more notches to your bedpost.  And had you forgotten we are sharing a room?”

Scott snorted.  “So what if I fancied having a little fun, it’s not like I get much chance back at base.  The Air Force isn’t exactly awash with opportunity between postings and combat missions.  And if Dad’s plan actually happens and we’re all dragged in to it it’s not like any of us will have much of a life.”

“What do you mean ‘dragged in’?  I thought you were on board with this whole rescue business?”

“Well you thought wrong.”

By this point yet another beer had been drained, swiftly followed by the scotch.  The burn of a cheap blend hit the back of Scott’s throat with a kick.

“Seriously, what does he hope to achieve with just four of us?  All that bull crap about saving the world one family at a time.  The world already has rescue services and the World Security Patrol.  It doesn’t need us sacrificing ourselves too.”

“But surely if we can make a difference?”

“I already make a difference.  I like my life Virg and I’m good at what I do.  Dad is asking me to give up the career I’ve worked hard for just to fit his idea.  It’s not easy being a Tracy in the Air Force; everyone always has some story about Dad but I’m finally making it in my own right.  And now he’s talking like this is some foregone conclusion.”

“You’d really rather follow the orders of some Air Force brass than help save lives?  Your unit isn’t exactly a humanitarian force.  What about doing it for Mom?  He said this was her legacy.”

“Of course I want to save lives but sometimes the defence of our nation calls for a more forceful response; eliminating the few to save the many.”  

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”  This was one area where Scott and Virgil never had seen eye to eye.  Scott was proud to serve his country.  Some days though, when the intelligence was flawed or the benefits didn’t seem to justify the costs, he found himself wondering if the family pacifist had a point.

“Even if I did leave the Air Force I’d still be following orders, they would just be Dad’s orders.  I can’t see it being run by committee, can you?  And he can leave Mom out of this.  Her legacy was Dad burying himself behind a mountain of paperwork or at the bottom of a scotch bottle while we picked up the pieces.  Or have you forgotten having to juggle school work around getting the kids to swim meets and after school clubs?”

“He isn’t like that any more.”

“Ok, so there are fewer empty bottles in the recycling but there was still a massive Alan shaped hole in his plan.  You know what Dad is like when he gets his teeth into something; anything not directly necessary gets pushed to one side and that includes his own family.”  There was a drawn out sigh as the fire burnt out.  “I don’t think I’m ready to take that on again.”

Virgil knocked back his own scotch as he considered Scott’s words.  His elder brother was right; Gordon and Alan were conspicuously absent it the run down of how the organisation would operate.  Ok, Gordon wasn’t so much of an issue but Alan still had several years of school ahead of him.  He just had to trust that there was some plan in place in the background for the youngest.

He shrugged and shivered slightly as the wind changed direction and blew in off the now black ocean.  Around them tables were being wiped down and lights were being dimmed, a clear indication that it was time to call it a night.  The pair hailed a cab and rode in silence back to the hotel, each lost in their own thoughts.

[jiminscaramel]

lap of luxury | hyungkyun [mx]

[GENRE] smut

[COUNT] 3.5K+

[PAIRING] fem. reader x Hyungwon & Changkyun

[WARNINGS] PWP, unprotected sex, threesome, voyeurism, choking, edging, cream pie, oral (m & f receiving), deep throating, slight face-fucking, spitroasting, cumplay, dirty talk, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

[AU] millionaire au? they’re just really rich

[A/N] Hi! So this was requested by anon and I’m so sorry I took so long to write it. Hyungkyun is not something I’ve ever read myself and so it was quite challenging. Also this is pure filth, I almost feel ashamed of myself. Almost. I hope y’all enjoy!

“Hey sIS so me and my friend were watching hyungkyuns how long stage and now we NEED a hyungkyun x reader smut where honestly? they just fuck reader raw. sorry for being a hornybebe but it just be like that sometimes.” It really do be like that

The suite is bigger than the last one you remember; high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, gold coving and mini chandeliers. The carpet is plush, almost engulfing your feet in its softness as you kick off your heels. Hyungwon has always had an eye for the lavish things, from shoes to cars and expensive watches – even women – Hyungwon never settled for anything less than luxury.

So his choice in suite isn’t surprising and chances are the next one will be even bigger, surpassing even your expectations. You silently pad over to one of the windows overlooking the illuminated city, smiling at the complimentary gifts of chocolates, wines and designer body lotions.

The carpet mutes his footsteps but you sense him approach, his assertive aura shrouding you in its embrace. His fingers graze the bare skin of your shoulder as he peels off your fur bolero, hanging it loosely on the back of the chair. “How do you like it?” Changkyun whispers into the shell of your ear, his lips dangerously close.

“It’s beautiful,” you sigh, your gaze focusing on your reflections. His cologne invades your nose, sweet and cloying.

He hums in agreement and rests his chin in the groove of your shoulder, hands locking around your waist. “Wait till you see the bed,” the smirk in his voice is evident, as is the unadulterated desire and it ignites the sleeping embers in the pit of your stomach.

You frown a little, despite the obvious excitement, because you’d seen the bed upon entering – it was pretty hard to miss. The centrepiece stands in the middle of the vast room, large enough to accommodate at least four people and wide enough to lay across without your feet dangling off the edge. The four-poster frame is dark mahogany, the intricate woodwork displaying spirals and patterns and a cream canopy drapes over the entire thing. It is pretty impressive, you agree, countless amounts of pillows and throw cushions line the headboard and from the looks of it, there are several layers beneath the coverlet, ensuring you’re kept warm throughout the night.

You circle the centrepiece before stepping up on its platform to get a closer look, but it still leaves you baffled. “What about it?”

He chuckles and sprawls across the duvet beckoning you to join him. It becomes quite clear as to what makes the bed so special as you lay beside him and stare up into the canopy. Only it isn’t fabric – it’s a mirror. A mirror the size of the whole bed is placed above instead of a wood frame or the soft fabric of the canopy curtains.

Your thighs clench together at the sheer excitement that courses through your veins at the idea, all sorts of scenarios running through your mind. It must show on your face because he laughs softly under his breath and moves closer, toying with the spaghetti strap of your satin dress. “Excited?” His lips ghost by your jawline, softly nipping your scorching skin as he teases mercilessly.

All you can do is nod, your words stuck in the back of your throat, afraid that speaking them aloud will erase your last semblance of self control. Because you know it’ll be a while before any of your wishes are truly granted.

“You’ll have to hold on a little while longer, princess,” he smirks, relishing in your suffering. “You know three is the magic number.”

The wine bottles are close to empty, accompanied by three stained glasses sat atop the wooden table. You don’t quite remember how long it’s been since Hyungwon arrived, the moments shift and one scene overlaps the other and before you know it you’re singing songs of the night.

He sits in one of the armchairs close to the bed, laid back with one ankle propped up on his knee, his jaw clenching with incredible self control. There’s few things he enjoys more than seeing you sprawled lewdly amongst silk sheets, baring yourself for both he and Changkyun.

Your back arches off the bed and your mewls fill the air, music to their ears, as Changkyun’s tongue works wonders between your legs. He licks a long stripe, his tongue flattening against your folds before toying with your clit with the tip. You fist his locks and your eyes squeeze shut, desperately searching for your elusive high but you’re denied any sort of relief.

“Don’t touch him,” Hyungwon commands from his place, intent on seeing you suffer. Your hands fly up above your head, finding purchase in the sheets instead, not daring to disobey. Your whines become an insufferable crescendo, getting louder and louder with each lap, building up to the knot in your stomach.

Changkyun pulls away at the last second, sensing your buildup and pauses to marvel at your blissed out state. Your eyes flutter open and your skin scorches with embarrassment as you catch yourself in the mirror above; Changkyun spread between your thighs, the muscles of his bare back rippling with every movement. You tilt your head forward and the sight before you is a sumptuous one. His lips glisten in the yellow light, your slick spread all over his mouth and chin and his eyes twinkle with a devilish glint. His tongue pokes out again, tasting you on his lips and he smirks knowingly as he moves up closer.

You can feel Hyungwon’s intense gaze, watching each and every move and it draws out an involuntary yet sensual shudder that makes your pussy throb. You don’t know whether it’s your own greed or your need for every wish of yours to be granted but you can’t wait for his torturous teasing to be over and done with. He knows you’re not soft, despite the way you carry yourself, and knows how much you can take. So all the drawn out kisses, the careful touches and his deliberate choice to sit back and watch is absolute torment.

But you know better to complain; Hyungwon has a resolve of steel and won’t think twice about denying you – or himself, for that matter – an orgasm for the sake of displaying his power and authority. Changkyun may be the one in between your legs, but Hyungwon is the one in your head.

Changkyun hisses and grips your waist, flipping you over onto his front. With your chest aligned perfectly with his face, he takes the opportunity to latch on to your nipple, licking kittenishly at the hard bud. He draws out another deprived groan from you before leaning back and positioning you over his hips.

“I want you to work for it, babygirl. Give Hyungwon a good view,” he murmurs, one hand reaching up to cup your face. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod, your chest too tight with insurmountable desire to answer. You sink down onto his length and collectively sigh in unison as he bottoms out inside you. “Oh god,” you whisper, stilling for a moment, stretching around him and relishing the feeling of how well he fills you up to the brim. His hand finds your ass and squeezes, prompting you start moving and so you clench your thighs and move up until only the tip of his cock is inside you, before slamming back down.

“Good girl,” you hear Hyungwon praise from beside the bed and you think you hear his voice falter, his self control dissipating with each thrust.

Your pace gradually quickens, breasts bouncing and cunt clenching around him, your climax almost reaching its peak. “I’m– almost there–” The heat in your stomach begins to unfurl, giving way to the long awaited orgasm, but his hands fly down to your waist again, stopping you in your tracks.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, his gaze trained on the mirror above, offering a totally different angle.

But you cry out in blissful agony, tired and distraught, not knowing how much longer you can take the edging. “Changkyun, please,” your hands tighten painfully around the headboard, your chest heaving above him as you fight to catch your breath.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, babe,” his eyes are glued to the mirror, transfixed on the way his hands fit around the curve of your ass, the way your thighs are spread so wide, the dip in your back. “Look.”

He gently instructs you to look up and you do so this time without a second thought; there’s no more room for embarrassment when you’re this far gone. Any shame had flown right out the window along with your inhibitions.

You hear gentle rustling from behind you and know that Hyungwon has left his seat. You hear the sound of his jacket being draped across the chair and anticipate his involvement. He silently approaches the bed and even though you’re expecting his touch, it’s still manages to startle you. He runs a single finger down the length of your spine, careful not to scratch your skin with his nail. His hand seems cold in comparison to your blazing skin but it only adds to the sensation.

He leans forward, taking his sweet time and whispers, his smouldering eyes boring into yours. “You’ve been so good, baby, you deserve to be rewarded.” You almost sigh in relief and swallow, teetering on the edge of delirium as Changkyun throbs inside you. “But, I’m not quite done with you yet.”

He lays beside Changkyun and whispers something in his ear that you don’t manage to catch. Without warning you’re flipped onto your back, your whole body engulfed in the bedding. The new positioning gives Changkyun a new angle, allowing him to hit the magic spot that’s guaranteed to send you into oblivion.

He begins at a steady pace, almost slow and sensual, you can feel every inch of him sink deeper into you. You sigh with content, your thighs still burning from the effort of riding him. “You feel so fucking good,” you breathe softly, the words getting lost amongst his panting and your moans.

His hips snap ans start to piston at an incredible speed and you feel yourself getting wetter, Changkyun almost slipping out. You cry out again, your mouth barely able to form the words in your head and you grip onto his broad shoulders, your nails digging in deeper with each thrust.

Hyungwon shifts, appearing above you too and you can see in the reflection his hand traversing the plane of Changkyun’s rippling back. He hums in satisfaction, his own erection tenting in his pants and places a kiss to his shoulder.

“Hyungwon, I–” He chokes back a moan, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort. “I can’t–”

“You can and you will,” he smirks, ghosting his lips along Changkyun’s sensitive skin. “Baby comes first.”

And with those words the tension in your abdomen starts to build up again, Changkyun’s relentless thrusts hitting every magic spot known to you. Hyungwon’s hand finds your clit and starts to rub small circles to push you to the edge. His eyes are totally unapologetic, fully aware of the sensory overload after so much denial, but not caring in the slightest.

His heart races at the view of Changkyun disappearing inside you, your breasts bouncing forcefully with every stroke, your chest heaving and your face flushed red. He catches your gaze fixated on the mirror above and smirks again, knowing the view is helping you get off.

Changkyun’s thrusts become sloppy and unsteady, signalling his end despite his holding back for so long but it couldn’t be timed more perfectly. The heat in your stomach reaches incredible height and your nails bite even deeper into his skin, almost drawing blood, embossing his skin with crimson crescents. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his guttural moans turning into soft, pathetic whimpers and his breath sears your skin as he utters the final words, the ones that finally manage to push you over the edge too. “I’m– I'm cumming–” he whines before thrusting desperately and spilling inside you, stilling and twitching with the aftermath of an Earth-shattering orgasm. “Fuck.”

Your toes curl and your thighs clench as the knot in your stomach snaps and unfurls, an unbelievable amount of slick gushing out as your climax explodes. He feels you tighten around his cock as you ride out your high, your own cries of pleasure filling the cavernous room.

You’re exhausted and mentally taxed after such an intense fucking but there’s no rest for the wicked.

Changkyun places a lazy kiss to your neck before pulling out and rolling beside you, eyes fluttering closed.

“Well done, baby,” Hyungwon praises, though you’re not entirely sure who it’s directed at. He quickly undress, his raging cock springing free from the confinement of his boxers. “I know you’ve got more for me, babygirl, I know you can give me more.”

You shake your head, unbelieving. There’s no way you can come again, despite your being still aroused. You’re absolutely spent. But Hyungwon’s touch is a completely different story and your body reacts out of it’s own accord. He knocks your legs apart, spreading you wide by the knees and watches in awe as a mixture of yours and Changkyun’s cum seeps out from your swollen sex.

He draws his lip in between his teeth, a predatory look darkening his features. You know what he has in mind and the mere thought is enough to have you squirming with anticipation. You look up to see your reflection again and as much as the thought embarrasses you, the sight of your own body, used and completely fucked out, does more than just turn you on. Your clit throbs at the lack of attention, the cool air agitating it further.

Hyungwon leans in and without hesitation latches on to your nub, his tongue swirling around your little bundle of nerves. You hold back a strained moan as he cleans up the mess, his tongue travelling south and poking your entrance, tasting you and Changkyun. His plush lips are enough to send you reeling again but before you even have time to think, his slender fingers slip in easily, coaxing you to your next climax.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations reverberating throughout your body and curls his fingers so that he’s massaging your g-spot. You hear Changkyun groan deeply beside you, hand wrapped around his length and eyes focused on the sight beside him. His hand pumps around his cock steadily, still slick from your essence.

The overstimulation becomes too much and has you squirming again with mild discomfort. “Hyungwon, I can’t. It’s too much.” And to your surprise he stops. His mouth parts from your pussy, soaked and throbbing but he still has other ideas in mind. “Please,” you beg, you chest heaving still.

“Shh,” he hushes gently leaning forward, his fingers finding your lips. They push past and you gladly accept them, tasting yourself as you suck his fingertips clean. He flips you around and positions you on all fours: your favourite position. “You’re gonna give me one more, baby, we’ve got all night. You’re still so wet for me, I know you can.” He holds his member and glides it in between your folds, sighing as he feels how soaked you are. “I’m gonna make you cum all over my cock.”

He slides in effortlessly and clench around him, earning a hiss in response. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” You sigh and clench again in response before he bottoms out, stilling for just a moment. His hand gently tangles in your hair and forces you to look at Changkyun, one hand cupping his balls and the other still pumping his cock. “Clean him up, baby, you made so much mess.”

His hand tightens in your locks, guiding your head down to swallow Changkyun’s hard member, tasting yourself again. He ruts impatiently into your mouth, eager to hit the back of your throat. The feeling of being filled in more than one place causes a surge of arousal to course through your body, your walls fluttering around Hyungwon. You pull back and lick a drawn out stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, looking up with wide, impish eyes and teasing him with kittenish licks.

“Behave, kitten,” Hyungwon warns with a stern voice, his hand at the back of your head again. “You’re not in the position to tease.” He enunciates his statement with a deliberate thrust that throws you forward, prompting you to take Changkyun whole. He curses under his breath and hardens in your mouth, your tongue swirling patterns along the ridges.

Hyungwon reaches for your arm and holds it in place at the small of your back, throwing you off balance and forcing you to take more of Changkyun’s cock. You swallow around him, hollowing out your cheeks and forcing him down your throat, gagging around his throbbing dick. Hyungwon’s other hand on your head pushes you deeper, your nose rubbing against Changkyun’s abdomen as you deep throat.

He continues to pound relentlessly at a killer pace, the head of his cock slamming into your g-spot every time. You moan around Changkyun, tears springing to the corner of your eyes as you gag around him, recognising the heat pooling in your stomach as your next inevitable orgasm.

“I can feel you tightening around me, princess. Are you close?” Hyungwon asks, knowing full well you can’t answer. Changkyun’s hands replace his as he moves away from your hair to find your clit again, rubbing vicious circles and figure of eights in a bid to make you come a second time.

“You’re so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth, you know that?” Changkyun utters through gritted teeth, his dick twitching between your lips. The lewd sounds of skin against skin and the wet sound of your throat fills the room, spurring everyone on and giving you the push needed to finish the race. You begin to drool around his member as he thrusts up into your throat, grunting and pushing your head down further. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum again. You ready for me, princess?”

You try to nod through through your fucked out state, your head spinning with lust and desire, your heart jackhammering with intense and dangerous pleasure. He ruts once, twice more into your mouth before spilling his load again down the back of your throat, hot ropes of cum pooling on your tongue.

Hyungwon places his hand beneath your chin and pulls your head back once he’s satisfied you’ve caught every last drop and hurriedly crashes his lips to yours. He licks along the swell of your lip and pries your mouth open with his tongue, eager to taste both you and Changkyun. You swallow what’s left as he pulls back and his hand moves to wrap around the column of your throat, squeezing lightly, but enough to make you a little light headed.

The intense heat in your stomach begins to bloom and you know the next thrusts are critical. You cry out, begging and babbling for him to pound harder, to not give up his challenging pace. His other hand grips your waist so tight you’re sure it’ll bruise but you can’t think past the moment you’re living.

“If you keep sucking me back in like this I’m gonna cum so hard,” he strains, his hold tightening around your throat. “Shit, baby, you’re so fucking tight– I–”

“Please don’t stop,” you sob, your voice breaking along with your resolve. The heat unfurls once again and your whole body wracks as your orgasm rips through you. “Oh God–” You clench almost painfully around him, coaxing him along to his release, keen to milk him for every drop.

His hips stutter and a primal moan erupts from his chest as he cums inside you, his seed spilling and coating your walls. He rides out his high, the both of you wincing from overstimulation before collapsing beside you, leaving you sandwiched between them both.

The room is filled with the sounds of your breathing, the three of you panting and heaving to catch your breaths. Hyungwon wipes the sweat off his forehead and turns to you, a sheepish smile lifting the corners of his plump lips. Changkyun throws an arm over your waist and pecks your cheek, sighing in content. “You don’t ask for much, huh?”

“I just have expensive taste,” you laugh. “And an insatiable appetite.”

Hyungwon chuckles and brushes your hair back, muttering against your skin. “Happy birthday, princess.”