#books are not organized because what’s he point anyway???

[cazzyf1]

The other day on my tiktok I created a simple post about how James Hunt is more than just the Playboy persona that is associated with him. This flew over someone's head who commented about how he was a Playboy. I responded explaining the point of the video but instead they doubled down saying that James didn't care about F1 only about partying.

So today I went through some of my books and gathered a load of quotes to show the James Hunt that most people do not know about, the one outside of the Playboy perception. I've posted it on tiktok but figured I'll upload it here as well so the true James Hunt can reach more people and slowly we can dismantle the reputation 'Rush' gave him ❤️

TW: Depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms/addictions

When you think of James Hunt you think of the 'playboy'. The guy who partied, drank lots, took drugs and slept with lots of women. Its true he did that, and a lot but to dismiss him as just that is wrong. He was a good driver, a person who tried his best, a kind man who cared for human & animal rights.

The next few slides I've compiled quotes from a few books and website to show what kind of person he actually was and what he went through in life and that less people will dismiss him as just a Playboy.

James Hunt's first marriage was rocky because James was already very involved in his addictions and he knew he didn't love Susy because he felt that he wasn't capable of love. But he felt responsible for her and wanted to look after her. Here is his own opinion from his book ->

"It was really THE problem. I thought that marriage was what I wanted and needed to give me a nice stable and quiet home life, but in fact it wasn't and the key mistake was mine. I really wanted to go racing on my own, and it wasn't much fun for Susy to sit at home and wait for me all that time. It was also a terrible hassle for her to come racing because race meetings were probably the most relaxing time in my schedule. The rest of the time you tend to be leaping on aeroplanes once a day and that made it even worse because it's bad enough organizing one person to get on an aeroplane. Organizing two gets to be twice as much hassle. It got to the point where it was a problem for Susy to come travelling and a hell of a deal for her to stay at home. It was making life miserable in the extreme for her and since I felt responsible for her it was making me miserable too. So we had agreed to split up and then Richard Burton came along and solved all the problems. We had had an immensely successful marriage because I learnt an awful lot about myself and life and I think Susy did too. We all ended up happy, anyway, which is more than can be said for a lot of marriages" - p14 Against All Odds

Much is said about James Hunt and the ladies he kept company, and without knowing anything about James you might assume the worst, but here's some quotes about what he was actually like with the ladies ->

"I don't usually have sex before a race because I am very definitely concentrating -I find that it is the communication between two people that makes it worth- while, and before a race I am pretty uncommunicative. However, if say I have an hour or so to spare before dinner on the night before a race then I can enjoy the physical release. But I will only do it with someone who is fully understanding" - p15 Against All Odds

"He was always attentive to his partners needs. Indeed much of his satisfaction came from giving pleasure. The only problem, some of them confessed, was that his desire to please often out-stripped their needs" - p264 James Hunt: The Biography

"I was sure he was gay, because he never made a move on me for so long" - p278 Jane Birbeck, long time partner, James Hunt: The Biography

"He missed the actual skirmish - he was inside getting drinks at the bar - but had to be forcibly restrained from going after the policeman who hit his girlfriend" - p284 James Hunt: The Biography

James Hunt had many affairs in his time, because he had become an addict to many things including women (more on this later) He was aware of his and it plagued James that he couldn't control it ->

"One evening she returned to their London home to find James in tears. He was tormented by feelings of guilt caused by his lust for other women. He confessed the full extent of his unfaithfulness, that it was unfair to her and that for her sake they couldn't remain a couple. It wasn't that he was bored with her, but that his desire for other women was insatiable and uncontrollable. He held Jane in his arms and they both wept" - p320

One thing that helped James in his life time was his love for animals especially his pet dog Oscar. Here are some quotes about his love for animals and how far he would go to help protect them ->

"I think in a way Oscar was the child James never had at that stage. He was a remarkable dog, no question, but James thought a lot about animals and their requirements and was very concerned about their needs. He gave Oscar the very best treatment and also was keenly intrested in the welfare of other dogs. He would look at a dog, wonder if it's owner was treating it well and bringing it up properly and if the dog was getting everything out of life that it could" - p281

"Before he came to know James better, the journalist Nigel Roebuck was pleasantly surprised by an incident involvinged stray dog. It was late in the evening after a Grand Prix and tha teams were packing up to leave when James, while talking to Roebuck, saw the dog wandering around the paddock, shiver-ing and obviously very hungry. Roebuck, also sensitive to the needs of an animal in distress, went with James to several of the team motorhomes where they got food and fed the dog. But that wasn't the end of it as far as James was concerned. He insisted that they should take the dog up to the race control centre.

Roebuck: 'He took the dog in there and would not leave until he was sure it would be looked after. James actually made this official sign a piece of paper saying he would take care of the dog and see that it was housed and properly cared for. I was very impressed with this. James was probably one of only a handful of people on this entire planet who would even give that sort of thing a second thought." - p281

"He also thought the wild animals residing on his estate should be left alone. If vermin had to be controlled it should be done in the most humane way possible, and he strongly dissaproved of blood sports. The very thought of fox hunting he found horrible and he vowed not to allow it on his property" - p308

James was also incredibly caring towards the young people in his life such as his sons and his younger siblings. Here’s an extract from his first GF about James and his siblings ->

".. the way he expressed his concern for the emotional youngest members of his family:

He really enjoyed looking after them, and just seeing the way the behaved with his little brothers and sisters you knew was instinctive in him. He was always going to be a good father.

One evening he invited her home where he was babysitting Jo Jo, Dave and Tim. When James had tucked them in he left Ping to read them a bedtime story. When Ping came downstairs James asked her if she had helped them say their prayers. When I said no, James said: "Right. You've missed out hugely there. Come on, we'd better go and do it." So they did. His attitude was that he was taught to do that by his parents and it simply had to be done.'

But he also practised what he preached, and he believed in the power of prayer. In the troubled years to come James would pray to God for strength and help, and he eventually passed on the bedtime prayer ritual to his own two boys, to whom he became completely devoted.

During his time with Ping he had talked about having children, and she thinks fatherhood earlier in his life would have prevented James from sinking into his period of decadence.

I felt so sorry for him then because I knew underneath it wasn't the real James doing this. I think he was trying to make life happy, the wrong way. If he had settled down earlier, had a more normal home life with children of his own when he was younger, one could have seen a totally different James.' - p26

James Hunt cared for human rights especially taking a stand against the Apartheids in South Africa. The Apartheids in short was a system of racial segregation. In protest most sports were not going to South Africa but Formula One still was, and James Hunt made it clear his thoughts

->

“We were once covering the South African Grand Prix during the days of apartheid. All of a sudden, and for no particular reason, he launched into an attack on apartheid.

“It was nothing to do with the Grand Prix, nor would it do British-South African relations any good. Our producer pushed a piece of paper across saying: ‘Talk about the race!’

“And then James blurted out on air: ‘Thank God we’re not actually there!”

But simply calling out Apartheid on the air wasn’t enough for Hunt. He sought to have his race commentaries blocked from being broadcast in South Africa, but was unsuccessful.

When that didn’t work, he instead — and secretly — gave financial support from his income as a race broadcaster to groups struggling to end Apartheid in South Africa."

"His deeply compassionate and loving nature was something that, unfortunately, wasn't adequately conveyed to the public, who only ever heard about the sensational side of James Hunt" - p282 John Watson

As mentioned earlier James Hunt was an addict. His playboy lifestyle was his addictions and this is all rooted back to the fact that James Hunt had depression which grew stronger and stronger. He relied on his additions to get rid of his depression which meant he kept doing more and more. Here are some quotes about his struggle with it and eventually how he overcame it ->

"At home James became increasingly introverted, uncommunicative and reclusive. He gave up golf and spent more and more of his time in the aviary tending his budgies. While the parties continued he would often leave the guests to Sarah and closet himself in the aviary for hours on end.

It became obvious that James was very troubled, but only Sarah and his closest friends knew the full extent of the anguish and despair James suffered during his bouts with what he called his 'dippers'.

Black dog' was the term Winston Churchill used for the recurring 'depressions which afflicted him throughout his life. Bubbles Horsley thinks James was 'born with a "black dog" on his shoulder. His racing pushed the "dog" away far enough so that it was no longer visible. But underneath that wonderful joie de vivre, the laughter and enjoying life, he was given to black moods. He was fearful of them and maybe it was that fear that drove him on. Perhaps without it he would never have been World Champion.

'And I think after the initial "honeymoon" of retirement from racing the black dog came and sat on his shoulder and wouldnt go away. So he became more fearful and sought distraction in various ways, through sex and drink and drugs and rock and roll, as it were." - p323

"At home Sarah watched her husband's condition worsen and desperately sought to help him. She thought his depressiond might partly be due to a chemical imbalance that James was born with, a theory that James explored himself. Then, too, to keep his dippers at bay he consumed too much alcohol and marijuana, both of which can temporarily bring relief but over the long term on have depressive effects.

Like others, Sarah felt that another reason for his 'dippers' might have been because he cut off his emotions early in his life and never learned how to open up to people, or to need them. He was essentially a lonely man and his inability to form close relationships made him despair. His depressions further deadened his feelings, and when he was unable to respond emotionally to marriage and children he grew progressively more despondent.

Sarah: 'He was at war with himself. His depressions became Intolerable and towards the end he stopped trying to fight them coming on because he knew they would take over for two days or week. His face would go black and he would take to his bed and stay there, even on Christmas Day. He'd gone to bed two days beforehand and we had Christmas stockings for the boys. I said, Come on, Beast, the boys are waiting." And he said, "Beast, i can't do it." And he was crying" - p333

"When James felt a "dipper" coming on he would go on two- or three-day benders, mostly drinking vodka. He would just keep going and going, which was always a bit terrifying, and after these deep, dark blank days he would suffer real self-loathing. He could forget his trouble with drink, but it always came back.

For many years trying to get rid of his depression was his major concern, which is why he got the budgerigars. He thought it would be such a huge amount of effort that it would distract him and they became an obsession rather than a hobby. He would sit in the aviary for hours, but he would come back still in the grip of gloom. And for a long time he was so down it was very hard to even converse with him." - p326

"He tried different treatments acupuncture, Chinese herbal medicine and looked into every possible theory. He went to different healers, therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, the lot, to try and find the root of his depression. And in the end he cracked it" - p337

"He began to become more diet-conscious and to eat healthy foods. He also consumed information, in books and magazines, on overcoming addictions, and sought more professional help.

He knew he should stop smoking cigarettes and reduce his marijuana consumption, and he told some friends he thought he might be an alcoholic. He worried that his need for women was another form of addiction and feared he might contract AIDS and infect someone else.

John Hogan: 'So he stopped it all. Straightened himself out by absolute willpower. The strength of character of the man enabled him to get out of it. He cut out the cigarettes, the dope and drugs. the booze and the womanising and his sense of priorities became more well-balanced.' - p338

As he started healing himself of his addictions he became serious about F1 again. He always cared for the sport, doing everything he could to race when he was younger and now though he was retired he still commentated and took part in other ways to stay close to the sport ->

"James became serious about strengthening his position in the media side of Formula 1 racing. He took on an internationally syndicated newspaper column and spent many hours gathering information for it. Working with a journalist he applied himself conscientiously to making sure that every word was written to his satisfaction" - p338

James started to heal his relationships as well, becoming an amazing parent to his two boys and finally meeting a woman who helped him feel loved and be able to love after so long of not being able to ->

"The boys were real handfuls to look after but he was awfully good with them and he really fathered and mothered them extremely well. He was always up early in the morning cooking their breakfast and then the four of us would go off salmon fishing. James would fish properly and I would fool around fishing with the youngsters. And then in the evening we used to settle down and he would tell them stories." - p343

A letter James sent to his girlfriend Helen:

"I went to the parents' 50th in a totally negative frame of mind, feeling very much an outsider and wanting the floor to swallow me up. As the day went on, although I remained 'out- side', I could see and feel lots of generous, undemanding love around me. Something changed for me there with my family. Everyone was exuding love and I saw the wonder of it and want to be part of it, but firstly with you.

I realise now that the feeling of not being loved as a child made me close up to any incoming love projected onto me. I do see that I cannot live on without love. You brought it home to me when you pointed out how well I'm doing with the boys. Well I have had to work at that and I've got better at it and I have to do it with you. You are the girl of my dreams. Without you I have no future. I want to make you happy and continue to do so until I die.

All my love for the love of my life,

James"

- p350

Finally James was happy. He was healed from his addictions, in a healthy relationship, had two lovely sons and a job he loved. And best of all he was able to be open with Helen ->

"James confessed to Helen that he was unable to be faithful to anyone in the past because sex was for him just another addiction and he needed women to get his highs. He disliked social gatherings and only had parties or went to them to pick up women. Helen was willing to forgive and forget what went on before, but told him she wouldn't tolerate it in their relationship and he agreed to be faithful to her." - p350

Helen went away on a girls holiday before her and James were going to start trying for children. James proposed to her over the phone on the holiday to which she said yes. But she would never see her finance because he passed away from a heart attack. Unfortunately the previous life he lead caught up to him.

Thank you for reading all of this and I hope you now know more about James Hunt than you already did! It's sad that James is best known now for his unhealthy coping mechanisms for his depression, especially with the film 'Rush' romanticising it. But even if just one person reads all of this it means one more person knows the truth of James Hunt and that makes it worth it ❤️

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[sochilll]

Sometimes being an English major is the biggest burden because I read movie reviews and people say “this story sucks because x y z doesn’t make sense” when those things were exPLAINED IN THE BOOK THEY DIDNT HAVE TIME IN THE MOVIE BUT ITS IN THE BOOK READ THE BOOK

[m00nlight-ramblings]

I Wanna Be Yours

(I've had this idea since I've seen like, a million 80's movies in succession). You're close to valedictorian, a known smarty-pants. So imagine your surprise when you become friends with Eddie Munson...and then fall in love with him.

Pairing: Eddie x female reader, friends x lovers, dual pov

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), swearing

*MINORS DNI*

Word Count: 4.16k

REMINDER: My inbox is open so please request some stuff because I'm dying to write!

"Oh, fuck where is it?" You loudly murmured, shuffling the books in your locker. They clanged around, sending soft bonk! noises and reverberations through your locker, which only made you more annoyed. You huffed, dropping your arms by your side. You only had a few minutes before you had to be in class, and you couldn't find your fucking book.

You groaned and started the process again, knowing you'd probably be fruitless - you've only checked like, 100 times, so at this point you'd just have to accept the fact that you'd somehow forgotten it at home. It also didn't help that your locker was stacked to the brim with books, folders, papers, and miscellaneous things you've collected in just a month since school started

"Um...you okay?" A voice asked behind you, startling you out of your frustrated trance. You turned to see Eddie Munson standing there, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear and tilting his head. Slightly embarrassed, you shrugged and huffed (again).

"Yeah I just...can't find my chemistry book. And I have class in-" You checked your watch, "Seven minutes." (And it also just so happened that chemistry was your worst class so you like, really needed this damn book).

"Want me to check?" He offered, gesturing to the locker. You paused a moment, and furrowed your brow. Then, you stepped aside, giving him access to your locker. He stepped forward, leaning into the locker and started gently exploring.

"Yeah, you can try but I don't think you'll find it. I've checked, like, a hundred times and I think I just left it at home and-"

"Here it is! Chemistry you said, right? You're looking for..." Eddie took a moment to examine the cover of the book. With a boisterous (and very silly) voice, he spoke, "Chemistry 301: Principles of Organic Chemistry?"

You gasped and smiled at him, snatching the book from him and staring at it. How did he find it? "Oh my god, are you kidding? I've been looking for this thing for like, 10 minutes. Where was it?!"

Eddie chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly, "Right in the front."

You looked at him, "I could hug you right now, oh my god! Chemistry is my worst subject and I can't even focus in that class if I don't have the book with me and...ugh. You're a life saver. Thank you." You beamed, hopping on your toes a little.

You and Eddie never really spoke, but of course knew each other - everyone in Hawkins did. Having a few classes with him over the years, any conversation you ever had with him was in passing. But after him your book for you, and seeing his smile..."The Freak" didn't actually seem all that freaky at all.

"Yeah, well, no worries. I'm just a good ole knight in shining armor, I guess." He bashfully made a face, causing you to giggle. "Actually...I just wanted to come over and thank you for something."

Confused, you cocked my head to the side, "Thank me?"

Eddie nodded, stepping aside so you could close your locker, "Yeah. I heard from Wheeler the other day that he dropped all his books and shit in the hallway and you helped him grab everything," His smile was soft...if you weren't looking so hard at his face (why were you staring?), you'd have missed it, "That was nice. So...thanks."

You nodded, mirroring the small smile. "Wheeler as in...Mike Wheeler? The freshman?" You thought back to a few days ago, "Yeah...he said he tripped, but Craig from the football team was lurking around so I have a feeling Mike didn't trip all by himself," I rolled my eyes, "People can be dicks sometimes so...anyway. I know what it's like to be a freshman." You slowly started to walk to class, Eddie following in line next to you.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Eddie cleared his throat and spoke again, "So...chemistry's not your best subject, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, "Definitely not. I hate it...it's so hard. My favorite class is English."

"English? Hey, mine too. What's your favorite book?"

You pause, furrowing your brows again, "...don't laugh."

He throws his hands up in an "I'm innocent" movement, "Cross my heart."

You take a moment before you speak, "I like 'The Hobbit'. I've read it, like, a million times. I re-read it like, once a year-"

"'The Hobbit'? I like that one too!" Eddie smiled widely, "...do you listen to Led Zeppelin by any chance?"

You laugh, "Are you about to tell me that 'Ramble On' was inspired by 'The Hobbit?" You watch his eyes widen slightly.

"You know that already?"

You nod, "My dad loves them. Has all their records. He can't help but spit out random fun facts about that stuff. I like them, too," You find yourself in front of your chemistry class, "Well...this is me. Thanks for finding my book again, Eddie."

He leans his shoulder against the wall and smiles. You notice his eyes flicker quickly to your lips and back to your eyes again before he speaks, "No problem. Thanks for helping Wheeler. I'll...see you around, I guess?"

You nod, looking back at him while you head into class, "Definitely."

And that was the start of you and Eddie.

Eddie didn't know what had come over him that day, helping you out at your locker. Wheeler had mentioned once that you seemed cool (Henderson enthusiastically agreed), and ever since then, he was convinced he had to thank you. Not just because you had helped his friend (which was cool), but also...had you always been that pretty?

Sure, you two didn't seem to have anything in common - you were known for being one of the smartest kids in school, with like 1,000 extracurriculars, bound for some Ivy League on the East Coast, and Eddie was...well, Eddie. Now in his third try at being a senior, school wasn't necessarily his strongest subject. But, you hadn't ever played in him being a freak, and always seemed kind so...he figured it would be safe to thank you for being so nice to his friend.

Because that's all he wanted to do...was thank you. That was all. Definitely not flirt with you or anything.

After that moment at your locker, Eddie seemed to run into you everywhere - lunch period, the hallway, even the mall that one time he actually went because he needed to pick up some D&D books from the bookstore. And slowly but surely, "running into each other" turned into:

"What do you mean she's just watching?" Dustin asked one day, setting up the drama room for Hellfire Club, "You never let people just watch. They always have to play. Is she going to play?"

"No, Dustin, for the hundredth time explaining, she is not playing. She is watching. Do you have a problem with her? Mortal enemies or something?"

Dustin eyed Eddie and shrugged, eventually going back to setting the table up, "No I just...you never let people watch..." He starts to grumble, "I guess in order to watch you need to have boobs, or something..."

That night at the game, Eddie wasn't his best DM self. He was distracted - probably had to do with the hours of homework he "needed to do", and definitely wasn't because you were there, sitting next to him, intently watching the game and reacting. It definitely didn't have anything to do with your cute gasps, or little squeals, or laughter whenever something happened.

Definitely not, at all.

At one point in the game, you tapped him on the shoulder. He leaned into you, not taking his eyes off of the rest of Hellfire Club, who were currently engrossed in trying to figure out their next strategy.

"Yes, m'lady?" Eddie asks in a British accent.

"Wouldn't Henderson's character be able to go through that door? Like...isn't he really charismatic? So like...can't he convince the guard to let them pass? I know he's not like, the main dude in the game or whatever but..." Your voice trails off as you realize that maybe you were too off base. You didn't really know the game at all, but that seemed right...right?

Eddie nodded slowly and his eyes darted over to you quickly...you were right. Holy shit...you were right, and Eddie totally didn't see this lapse in judgement. He smiled at you and took note of how his heart seemed to flip into his stomach, sending a quick shiver down his spine.

Shit. He was in trouble.

"Eddie, can you turn it down a little bit? I'm trying to concentrate." You groaned slightly, shifting your head in your hand as your eyes scan the textbook in front of you. Not that it's really doing anything since you can't seem to retain any information at the moment.

Eddie, who was currently practicing his air guitar solo to Metallica's "Ride the Lightning", gave three quick headbangs before turning down the music, but immediately went back to air guitar.

"Aren't I supposed to be helping you with your science homework?" You asked, a little annoyance rising, "If you're gonna be distracted, I'm gonna go home. I have like, a million college brochures to go through and-"

"No! No!" He immediately stops and stands at attention like a soldier, salute and everything, "Okay. I'll stop." He jumps on the bed next to you, sending a pencil fly in the air. He caught it and stuck it behind his ear, "Okay. Science!" He clapped his hand and rubs them together like a mad scientist.

You chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, gently shoving his shoulder beside you. "Okay, so, when dealing with organism structure, you have to remember that everything is made up of cells, right? So when thinking of specialized parts of the body-" You look up to see him staring at you, definitely not paying attention to what you're saying. "Eddie..."

He snaps to attention and smiles bashfully, "Sorry. I'm...distracted?" His eyes dart to your lips again and your heart does that annoying "pounding in your chest" thing it does basically every time Eddie looks at you.

"Do you want to be a senior for a fourth time?"

He playfully shakes his head, "Nope. Definitely not."

"What's got you so distracted, anyway? Thinking about your date with Mindi tomorrow?" You probed him a bit, trying to get more information out of him. When you had become friends with Eddie, he definitely had his fair share of..."girlfriends". Which at first, you didn't mind.

Not that you minded now, but...five months after initially becoming friends with him, you would just prefer if you were his girlfriend.

Eddie's face flushed and he looked away, throwing the pencil behind his ear on to his dresser across the room, "Oh, Mindi? No, I...cancelled that. Like, a week ago." He suddenly got off of the bed and started to pace around his bedroom a little. I watched him for a moment before speaking.

"Why? Weren't you like, so excited to take her to the movies? You said she was soooOoo hot and blah blah blah-"

"I'm just not interested in her anymore." He interrupted you, stopping his pacing. He turned to face you and didn't break eye contact, his eyes seemingly staring into your brain.

Did he know? Did he know how you had fallen for him?

It started slowly, in a way you didn't even recognize - he made you laugh more than other people, you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, and he was so kind...not only to you, but to his friends, and even your parents when he'd come to pick you up on a Friday night with the group. He'd always come to the door, always make small talk with your mom. Not only that, but he was a gentleman, which surprised you - opened doors, pulling out your chair...

Not to mention, when it was late at night and you couldn't sleep, you couldn't help your thoughts turn to his hands in your hair, his dick inside of you, whispering your name over and over again.

The sudden realization that you were falling in love with him slapped you hard in the face - one day after school, you two were walking to his van for a ride home and someone's car blew past you in the parking lot, seemingly out of nowhere. You were about to step out but Eddie pulled you back, your body immediately pressing against his, your face mere inches from each other.

The air was electric, and you couldn't look away from his eyes. Finally, he spoke, "...you okay?" His voice was husky, low. It sent goosebumps down your arms, which were currently being held by Eddie's. You could only nod, words escaping you. Finally, Eddie broke the spell by screaming at the car, "JESUS CHRIST YOU PIECE OF SHIT WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING BEFORE YOU FUCKING KILL SOMEONE!"

Back in his room, you eyed him. "Why aren't you interested in her anymore?" You asked quietly, sensing the air shift. It felt more tense, more heavy.

What the fuck was going on?

Eddie, seemed to zone out for a second, taking a piece of his hair and chewing on it lightly. His eyes were focused on the floor, "Maybe...I think because...I'm interested in someone else?" It came out as a question, not a statement.

You swallowed hard. He was acting strange. Your heart started to beat strong enough that you heard it in your head. "...who are you interested in, then?" You asked. You took the textbook you were reading and closed it, putting it on his bedside table. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Please be me, please be me, please be me! Your brain was shouting so loud you were surprised he couldn't hear it.

Eddie looked up at you quickly and then back down again, his face unreadable. Which was concerning, because Eddie's face was always an animated as a Muppet.

Was it hot in here?

Taking a step forward, he was standing at the foot of the bed now. It seemed like he was thinking...hard. "I..."

Before he could even start, he finished. The single word hung in the air, causing your heart to race even faster and your head to swim. You WHAT, Eddie? You felt like you were about to lose your mind. Was he going to say it or not? Were you going to find out, or not?

"I'MINLOVEWITHYOU." You said loudly, the words spilling out of your mouth before you could even stop them. You gasped and clapped your hand over your mouth, hoping that somehow that action would suck the words back in, as if it never happened. Eddie's head snapped up and he stared at you. The air had been sucked out of the room in one fell swoop, and you could feel embarrassed tears prickle at your eyes. "Oh, god, Eddie...I-I-"

Oh no...what had you done? You had just ruined something between you and one of your closest friends. No more movie nights, no more homework sessions, no more late night phone conversations-

In a single motion, Eddie was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours. You didn't have time to even think, but your hands immediately found their way into his hair, cradling his scalp as he pressed his body into yours. You gasped at his initial contact but quickly found yourself melting into the kiss. Eddie moaned into your mouth, his tongue gently asking permission to open. Once granted, he hungrily kissed you, pressing your back into the bed.

"Eddie..." You breathed as you pulled back a bit, looking at him. He smirked and started to pepper your chin with gentle kisses, a far cry from the kiss that had started the whole thing.

"Mmmmyes?" His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you. Suddenly he pulled back, his mouth agape, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No-" You almost shouted, "No, I-"

"I love you too." He said quickly, a flush coming to his face, "I...love you too. I have. For a while."

You smile, heart feeling like it's about to explode. You pulled him back into a kiss, using your tongue to explore his immediately. He moaned, pressing his groin into yours. You felt an instant rush of wetness to your panties as your hands found their way to the nape of his neck. Eddie pulled away from the kiss, his hand gently finding it's way to the top of your pants. He looked at you and you nodded, and he quickly undid the button, pulling them down, exposing your pink cotton underwear, which you felt was already starting to soak through.

Eddie hissed as he slid down your body, pressing his mouth to the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped lightly, watching him. He was quite beautiful - his hair starting to dampen with sweat at the hairline, his eyes shimmery, hungry for you. He pressed his tongue down flat on your wet spot once - teasingly - and leaned up again, removing his shirt.

Your head was still swimming as he fully pulled your pants off at your ankles, gently spreading your legs, and pushing your underwear aside. He laid on his stomach, getting comfortable, and wrapped your legs on his shoulders. He quickly glanced up at you, his eyes dark.

"Your pussy is so fucking beautiful." He said, his voice a low growl. His voice caused you to whimper slightly, and before you could even think, his tongue was moving in action, teasing your clit in small, wet motions.

"Oh, fuck, Eddie-" You couldn't think as the pleasure started to rise.

"You're already so wet for me, princess," He said, going back to your clit again. He paused to pull your underwear off but was quickly back in your pussy, moaning as if he was eating a delectable meal. He switched between quick, teasing moments, and flattening his tongue against the entirety of your pussy. You weren't sure if it was because he was just that good, or if it was because you had quite literally been dreaming of this moment for a while, but after a few minutes, you felt the coil in your lower belly start to tighten.

"Fuck Eddie...you feel so fucking good. I-I-I'm close, I think-"

"Come for me." He spoke into your pussy, suddenly slipping a finger in. Slowly at first, he started to finger you, curving his finger in an upwards motion while inside. You shrieked, immediately grabbing his hair with both hands. He responded by growling into your mound, concentrated on sending you over the edge.

Suddenly, the coil snapped and you moaned his name, no longer in control of what came out of your mouth. Your head was swimming with hot pleasure, beads of sweat gathering on your temple as your hips bucked into his mouth. Eddie slipped his finger out and gave your clit a final, gentle kiss before he slid out from under your legs and sat on his knees. He stared at you and started to shake his head, smiling.

"So fucking sexy..." He murmured, unbuckling his pants. Quickly, you reached up to help him and he looked at you.

"Just trying to get your pants off faster," You said, a blush rising to you.

"And why's that?"

"I need you. To fuck me. Right now." You said, dragging his pants down. He chuckled and stood up, shaking his pants down to his ankles. The length of his cock sprung up in his boxers, creating a tent that your eyes immediately fell on. He paused a moment and took his boxers off, his cock already glistening with precum. He slowly made his way back to you, laying on top of you. His cock laid in between the lips of your pussy, causing you to moan slightly. He sucked on your neck, a hand finding it's way to your hair and tugging slightly.

"You're awfully greedy." He purred into your ear teasingly. You heard him open his bedside table drawer, grabbing a condom and snapping the draw shut. Kneeling up again while discarding the condom wrapper, he rolled the condom on his dick achingly slow, never taking his eyes off of you. You felt a new rush of wetness slide through your pussy, and you opened your legs up more.

Eddie stroked his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance, which was already aching with pleasure. He leaned forward, his forehead touching yours. Your breath hitched in your stomach as he looked into your eyes and you nodded, giving him the go ahead. His dick slid in without resistance, causing you to moan loudly and his eyes to roll back.

"Shit, baby, you're so fucking wet," He hissed, starting to thrust slowly into you, "So fucking tight. Fuck s'good."

Eddie's cock filled you, every thrust sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You couldn't help your moaning - thank god Eddie's uncle wasn't home - and you felt like you were almost having an out of body experience. As Eddie started to speed his thrusts up, your hands find their way to the back of his hips, and your nails started to dig in deeper and deeper.

"Yes. Right there. Right there, Eddie. Fuck, you fuck me so good!" You stammered as he hit your walls. He grunted, panting, his hair tickling your face.

"Right there, baby? You like it right there?" He spoke, his voice a guttural growl, "You gonna come for me again, sweetheart? Be a good girl for me and show me."

His words shot through your pussy in combination with his thrusts, the sound of his dick slipping in and out of your wet pussy driving you over the edge. Sloppy kisses were exchanged as one of Eddie's hand found it's way underneath your shirt and bra, fingering a nipple.

"Fuck...I should've taken this shit off before we started." Eddie mumbled, still thrusting. You replied by whipping the shirt above your head, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the ground. Eddie's eyebrows raised and he smirked, leaning down to immediately take your nipple in his mouth. Your back arched and you gasped, one hand pushing Eddie's head down on your tits, and the other pushing his ass down to fuck you harder.

"Harder and you're gonna make me come again." You whimpered. Eddie responded by taking your nipple in his teeth, sucking harder and harder.

You started to see stars. You had never felt this type of pleasure before, and you never wanted it to stop. The combination of Eddie's cock, his mouth, and his words were about to send you careening over the edge.

"Oh, god-"

"Oh fuck, baby. I'm gonna come." Eddie said, his face finding your neck again. The hand on his head found its way to his chin, cradling it. His hair swung back and forth, and his eyelids were half shut, a deep crimson rising in his face.

"Come for me. Come with me-" Was all you were able to get out before one final thrust from Eddie sent you over the edge, causing you to scream his name, your hands finding his sheets and gripping for dear life. Hearing your screams caused Eddie to moan loudly, his whole body tensing as he spilled into the condom. He said your name, not quite as loud as your screams, but with matching intensity.

The only noises that could be heard were panting from the both of you. After a moment, Eddie slid out from inside of you, falling to the side of you and immediately taking you into his arms, kissing the top of your shoulder.

"So..." He finally said, a small chuckle playing on his words. You giggled and turned to face him, looking into his eyes.

"So."

"Now that we've established we're absolutely head over heels for each other", Eddie started, placing a kiss on your forehead, "And we're both incredibly sexually compatible..." Another kiss, "Is it like, totally corny to ask you to be my girlfriend or...no?"

You giggled again, running a hand through his hair, "I don't think so. I'd say yes, i think."

"You think?!"

"I'm kidding!" You laughed, sitting up on your elbow. You started to trace circles on his chest, the air falling back into place again. "So what now?"

"What now?!" Eddie asked. Boasting his best DM voice, he sat up and waved his arms in the air, "There's a whole big beautiful world we get to discover now together!"

You smirked, running a hand down his bare thigh, "But what if...I just want to stay in bed?"

A blush rose on Eddie's face and he smiled, looking at your lips, "Oh, well in that case, there's a lot to discover in here, too."

He reached over to his bedside table and opened the drawer again.

------

Whew, a doozy! What did you guys think?! My first time writing smut but it was just a little idea I had on my mind for a bit so I had to get it out. I love me some cute Eddie ideas.

REMINDER: My inbox is open so please request some stuff because I'm dying to write!

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[sluttywonwoo]

color me like you || l.jh

pairing: lee jihoon x f reader

summary: you put your heart into every piece of jewelry you make, so why does it only hurt when they're for him?

warnings: swearing, some jealousy, smidgen of religious imagery, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex

word count: 5.3k

author’s note(s): for @sluttywoozi's birthday <33 ilyyy

this was the hardest fic i've ever written ;-; idk why but it just kept fighting me the whole time // also did not mean to be so heavy-handed with the rubies it just sort of happened

“What would you pick?” 

Every single fucking time. It was like he didn’t know what he was doing by asking you that. And maybe he didn’t. 

Lee Jihoon’s consultations were your least favorite part of (nearly) every month. And it wasn’t because he was a rude customer or a schmuck just looking to blow his money or anything like that- but because month after month he waltzed into your place of work and bought a custom piece for someone who wasn’t you even though he never failed to ask you that god damn question.

It wasn’t like it was uncommon for jewelers to get asked that. In fact, it was rather common. Men tended to view women as a monolith, accepting any opinion from whoever was nearest as a reflection of their partners’ solely based on the other party’s gender. 

But with Jihoon it’s different. It was like Jihoon actually cared what you had to say about it, like it mattered what you thought of his decisions even though you were the one designing the piece and not receiving it. 

It sends you into a mini spiral every time. Every time he walks through the door, eyes automatically searching for you. Every time he sits down in front of you and leans over your desk to get a closer look at your work and you catch a whiff of the expensive cologne dotted at his pulse points. Every time you have to gaze into his deep brown eyes and swallow the jealousy rising in your throat as you bare your soul to him laid out on a satin pillow for him to take and give to someone else. 

You already know who it is once you see that the VIP Room is booked on your schedule. You groan internally, cursing the man as you run through all of your preparations. There isn’t much to do because almost everything is already ready for you but you try to stay busy anyway, finding yourself checking the clock on the wall over and over again until the bell above the door finally chimes to signal his arrival. 

Your back is to the door and you don’t turn around right away even though you know he’s seen you. You can feel his gaze on you. It’s piercing yet magnetic in the way things like glass and icicles are-  deceptively alluring, sharp enough to draw blood. 

When you do finally turn to face him, you note that he’s flanked by a security guard, not unusual for him but unsettling to you nonetheless. You don’t know what he does for work. You’ve never asked. Better not to get attached is what you told yourself, not that you were having much luck with that. 

Jihoon smiles politely at you and you return the nicety, gesturing to the door behind the counter for him to follow you. 

The lights in the showroom are dim as always. The dark, velveted walls seem to be absorbing what little light the decorative lamps are effusing. The walls are lined with built-in display cases, illuminating their contents and nothing else. 

In the middle of the room sits a desk, with a chair on either side. You take your place behind the desk and wait for Jihoon to sit before doing the same. He’s ditched his shadow so the two of you are alone, something you try not to think about as you organize your tools in front of you. 

“How have you been?” Jihoon asks, his voice breaking the silence but doing little to ease the tension between you. 

“I’ve been well,” you answer. It’s an honest answer, for the most part. “And yourself?”

“Busy,” he sighs, “but good.”

You fold your hands on the desktop in front of you, letting its cold surface ground you. You can already feel yourself starting to sweat even though the showroom’s the coldest place in the store. “So, what are we doing today?”

“A bracelet,” Jihoon says. 

“For you or someone else?”

You never ask your clients who their orders are for. In your profession, you’ve learned that being too nosy, even in good conscience, can be dangerous. You’ll ask if the piece is for the client themselves,  if it’s to celebrate a specific occasion, and what the person’s tastes are but little else. If they offer the information voluntarily, so be it. 

“Someone else.”

You grit your teeth as you ask the next question. “Do you have their measurements?”

Jihoon doesn’t answer right away. 

“Not exactly. It doesn’t need to be a perfect fit. They, uh, have about the same size wrist as me.”

“Then I’ll ask you to hold out your wrist for me…”

He extends his arm across the space between you, pale skin almost translucent under your Circline light. 

“Which way,” he turns his hand for you, “palm up or down?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He leaves his palm skyward like he’s waiting for you to take his hand but you wrap the tapeline around his wrist instead, bringing the magnifier closer to get an exact measurement. You make a mental note of the number and definitely not of the way his fingers are long and calloused and-

“That’s really pretty.”

Jihoon’s voice startles you out of your unprofessional thoughts, making you jump a little in your seat. He grins apologetically. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you how pretty I think your ring is.”

Your eyes flit down to the piece of jewelry on your finger, a thin gold band looped around a few times like a wiry piece of thread. In between the strands of gold are three gems, diamond, alexandrite, and tourmaline, set in what looks to be random spots. You’ve worn it every day since you finished it but no one had ever commented on it until now. 

“Was it a gift?” Jihoon asks. 

“No, I made it.”

“I should’ve known,” he sighs. 

You want to ask him what he means by that but you know his answer will only make you more delusional. 

You release the end of the measuring tape and roll it back up, replacing it in its spot in your drawer and pulling out a leather bound notebook instead. You flip to a blank page and jot down Jihoon’s measurements along with the few details he’s told you thus far about the piece he wants made. 

“Do you have an idea of what you want your bracelet to look like?” you ask, swiftly changing the subject. “Or should I show you some of my previous designs?”

“I think I have an idea but I don’t know how to describe it.”

“How about I show you some pieces and you tell me if they’re similar to what you had in mind?”

“That sounds perfect.”

You stand from the desk and turn around to face the display cases behind you. There’s an assortment of original jewelry pieces made by you and your colleagues to choose from but you only select ones you’ve made, knowing Jihoon would instantly be able to tell the difference. It’s happened enough times before. 

You walk him through each of your selections, making note of what he points out about each of them. From his musings, you gather that he wants an argentium silver chain— thick enough to be inlaid with stones but not too thick that it would become too heavy or gaudy. 

Listening to him talk about the piece made you smile despite the envy twisted around your heart. He had started to pick up on the terminology after coming here for so many months and seemed so much more confident about his knowledge of it all. It was apparent in the way he held himself now during consultations. 

You get all of the initial details about the body of the piece squared away before moving on to the finer ones. Categorizing the steps like this helps you stay organized.  

“And do you know which stones you want embedded in the bracelet?” you ask. 

Jihoon rubs his thumb across his lips in thought. “I thought I did, but after seeing that,” he pauses to point at a necklace you’d shown him, “I’m having second thoughts.” The necklace he’s referring to is set similarly to the style of the bracelet, only gold and lined with rubies. 

“What was your first choice?” 

“Amethyst. Since it’s a birthday gift, I thought I’d go with their birthstone, but now I’m torn. What would you pick?”

There it was, the dreaded question. It was like he’d been holding a knife to your throat this entire time and finally decided to draw blood. Still, you answer like you always do. 

“I’m partial to amethyst,”  you admit, “and there’s the added significance of it being their birthstone, but the rubies would make more of a statement. It really depends on what kind of person you’re buying for. Are they a sentimental person or a flashy person?”

“They’re both,” Jihoon groans, putting his head in his hands. Then, after a moment, he sits back up. “But I think they’d like the rubies more. I feel like those evoke a more dramatic aura, if that makes sense.”

“It does. Rubies are associated with power and passion.” They’re also associated with romance but you choose not to mention that part. “In some cultures, they were believed to protect the wearers as well.”

“That’s perfect then.”

You clasp your hands together and force a smile. “Great! Do you want them around the entire band of the bracelet? From clasp to clasp?”

“What would two-thirds look like?”

“Let me show you.”

You discuss the size, cut, and spacing of the stones before calculating a price and timeline for the piece. You give Jihoon the receipt that states how much he owes today and how much he’ll owe when he comes to pick it up, circling the pick up date with your pen. 

He pays with his black card, the one you’ve become accustomed to swiping every time you see him. You expect him to leave promptly after the payment, that’s what usually happens, but he doesn’t. He lingers a little awkwardly as you put the jewelry back in their display cases, hesitating by the door like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Jihoon?” you ask him eventually, “is everything okay?”

You refer to most of your clients by their surnames but Jihoon had asked you not to the very first time you met. “It makes me feel old,” he’d explained with a laugh. 

Now, he laughs again. This time, it’s a nervous laugh, one that draws confusion and sets your own nerves on edge. 

He swallows harshly. “I know this may be entirely inappropriate, but I promised myself I wouldn’t leave today without asking if you would go to dinner with me.”

“W-what?”

“Go to dinner with me?” he repeats, this time in the form of an actual question. 

You blink. “For real?”

“Um, yes? Unless your answer is no, then no, not for real.”

You put both hands on your desk to brace yourself, unsure what to make of his request. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused. Why would you want to go to dinner with me?”

“Because I want to take you on a date.”

“A date?!”

Jihoon clears his throat a little bashfully. “Yes, I thought that was implied when I invited you to dinner.”

“Dinner could mean a lot of things! Maybe it was a business proposal.”

He chuckles. “I’m a music producer, I don’t know what kind of business I’d have with a jeweler.”

It doesn’t even dawn on you that you’ve finally found out what he does for work because you’re so overwhelmed by the fact that he’s asking you out to comprehend anything else. You can hardly comprehend this. 

“You want to go on a date with me?”

“I- uh, I’ve been coming here for months just to see you. I mean, I was really getting gifts for people but they don’t give a fuck about what I buy them for their birthdays as long as it’s expensive... they don’t really care about the different gems and settings and shit.” You’re still processing his words when Jihoon lifts his head to peek at your reaction. “Are you... upset?”

“Upset? No, I’m relieved!”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?”

“This whole time I thought you were getting gifts for your partner, or partners, I thought you were taken.”

You watch the corners of Jihoon’s mouth quirk up into a smile as he realizes what you’re saying. “And that upset you?”

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“You like me back?” 

“Yes. It’s been terrible.”

“Pardon?” he chokes out. 

“Imagine the roles were reversed,” you explain, “I’m coming to you every month, getting to know you better and you’re learning more and more about me, I’m flirting with you, you’re starting to feel like we’re getting closer-”

“Only for you to buy the jewelry for someone else,” he concludes for you with a grimace, “presumably a romantic partner. Yeah, okay I can see how that would be miserable.”

“But then, who have these even been for this whole time?!” you blurt out, finally breaking your number one rule. 

“I’ll explain everything over dinner,” Jihoon promises. 

“But when is dinner?”

“What time does your shift end?”

-

Jihoon does explain everything over dinner, as promised. He gave you some time after work to get ready for the date and then picked you up from your place in a town car. He’d told you before that he’s never felt the need to get a drivers license, that public transport and ride services were plenty to get him to where he needed to go, and that he seldom left the house anyway. You offered to drive to dinner since you did have both a car and a license but Jihoon astutely refused, saying that while he wasn’t very old fashioned, he was the one who asked you out and he’s always liked the idea of a more traditional first date. 

Dinner is at a restaurant you’ve never even heard of but apparently has a Michelin star. The food and mocktails are delicious, but truthfully the last thing on your mind as you stare across the table at your date. He’s dressed in all black, like usual, but had chosen an outfit that was much more formal than what you were used to seeing him in: pressed slacks and a dress shirt that was buttoned just low enough to show off a hint of collarbone, cleavage, and a chain you recognize as one you’d crafted for him almost a year ago. 

He almost always wore a hat when visiting your store but tonight he’s forgone the baseball cap and swept his long hair back in a half up, half down sort of manner. There’s product in it but a few wisps of his bangs have escaped the hold of the gel and hang in front of his eyes. 

You briefly wonder if he’d let you style his hair, if he’d let you braid it back. He’d look so pretty with french braids-

At the end of the meal, after he’s paid, he asks the question. Not the question, the one you’re always dreading, but a new one that makes your heart beat just as fast. 

“Are you doing anything after this?” 

You take a sip of your drink, ignoring the watered down taste in order to keep the air of suspense. “That depends, what are you doing?”

-

Jihoon’s apartment is closer than yours. It’s in the middle of the city, nestled safely above the bustling crowds and chaos of the streets beneath it. You would call it a penthouse but it isn’t on the top floor of the building nor does it have a terrace- the point is, it’s bigger than the house you grew up in. You can tell just from standing in the doorway with all the lights off. The floor to ceiling windows lined all along the far wall give it away. They let in just enough light from the billboards and neon street signs below to cast shadows in the corners of the room that emphasize its depth. 

There’s music playing softly throughout the apartment when you enter.

“I wasn’t expecting this to happen,” Jihoon insists as he scrambles to turn on some lamps. “I swear, I just always have music playing.”

“Sure,” you tease him, bending down to slip out of your heels. 

You’re still a few inches taller than him without them on but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. You certainly don’t. “I can turn it off if you’d prefer,” he offers. 

“No, that’s okay. I like having it on when-” you stop yourself mid-sentence, cheeks blooming with heat. You had been about to say, ‘when I’m having sex,’ and Jihoon seems to fill in the blank himself from the way he smirks at you. 

“Really? That’s good to know.”

You’re too flustered to think of a witty response so you just pucker your lips like you do when you don’t know what to say and hope he can’t tell how insane with lust his answer just made you. 

The lapse in his gentlemanly manner is brief and before things can go too far he takes your coat and purse and leads you to the couch in the living room. You sit and watch as he crouches in front of the fireplace, rolling up his sleeves. It’s a gas fireplace so all he has to do is turn the dial to the desired strength, there’s no soot or ash or really anything that would make him dirty, but you appreciate the view of his arms nonetheless. 

You know Jihoon is a big fitness buff. It’s one of the first things he ever told you, apologizing for how sweaty he was as he shook your hand and introduced himself. It’s been hard not to let that knowledge distract you whenever you see him now. You’ve caught yourself ogling his biceps and quads (and ass) an unhealthy amount of times in your consultations. You can let yourself get distracted tonight, though. Now that he’s not your client and you’re the girl he’s brought home. Now that he’s got his forearms out on display specifically for you to ogle. 

He joins you on the couch a moment later, creating a respectful distance between you. 

“Would you like anything to drink?” he asks suddenly. “I don’t have any alcohol in the house because I don’t really drink but I could make you something like we had at dinner. I also have Coke Zero and water and-”

You put your hand out to stop him, relieved to know he’s just as nervous as you are. “Water would be great, thanks.” 

“Ice?”

“If you have it.”

“I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t,” he points out. 

“Right. That’s... right.”

He laughs affectionately and touches your knee as he goes to stand from the sofa. His hand is warmer than you expect, making you suck in a quick breath that makes you both freeze. Your eyes meet his before his gaze shifts to your lips. 

“Do you... still want that water?” 

Your mouth does feel dry but for an entirely different reason. 

“Maybe later.”

-

He’s on top of you as soon as your back hits the mattress, strong thighs straddling your hips. His hair falls into his eyes and subsequently yours as he leans down and gently cups your face. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, kiss me,” you gasp, pulling him into you before he does. 

Jihoon groans the instant your lips touch his, grinding into you almost involuntarily. It isn’t long until you’re moaning too, practically writhing underneath him as he kisses you like he’s found God.

Everything about him is soft, except his hands. His voice, his tongue, his touch. His hands leave your cheeks and start to explore the rest of your body, grazing your chest and hips over your dress. 

His fingers skim the hem of it and dip just below the seam, lifting the fabric from your thighs before letting it float back down.You don’t know if he’s teasing you on purpose but it’s driving you crazy. You’ve wanted him for so long now that his self control feels cruel, like he’s dangling himself just out of reach. 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away,” he says, running a hand through his hair. 

“I honestly wanted you to get more carried away,” you admit.

“Really?”

“I thought I was making it obvious.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” he mumbles through a smug grin, “and I didn’t know how far you wanted to go tonight.”

“I want to go as far as you want to go,” you assure him. 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You’re not typically one to sleep with someone on a first date, not for any religious, moral (or internally misogynistic) reason, you just don’t like being that vulnerable with someone you’ve just met. You’ve also found sex to be a lot more enjoyable with someone you feel connected to. 

So even though it’s technically your first date with Jihoon, you’ve known him for what feels like half of an eternity and craved him for every single moment of it. You aren’t going to deny yourself what you’ve longed for for ages. 

“In that case, can I eat you out?” he asks.

“Fuck yeah you can.”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” he murmurs as he positions himself between your legs and pushes your dress up to your hips.

“Really?” you sigh.

Jihoon kisses the inside of your thigh and then hums against it. “Mhm, every single time we were alone in that dark room I’d just think about crawling under that table and spreading your legs apart...” 

“You should have.”

Jihoon scoffs. “You would have gotten fired.”

“Worth it.”

“But isn’t this much better?” he asks, pressing his tongue over your panties. “I can take my time with you and you can be as loud as you want...”

Jihoon repeats the motion with his tongue and you whimper as if to prove his point. He’s barely done anything and your panties are already soaked through. To be fair, you’ve been wet since dinner but that was his doing too. All he had to do was look pretty and you were melting for him. 

“Want me to take these off?” he asks.

“God, please.”

“Here, lift up for me then, perfect. Now put your legs over my shoulders... good, just like that.”

He drowns himself in you, worshiping your cunt with his lips and his tongue and his entire being. He takes his time tasting all of you before moving on to what he knows you’re actually waiting for. You try to be patient, you know he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have, and it feels good... you just need more. 

He does give you more, eventually. His tongue dips inside of you when you’re least expecting it and your thighs clamp around his head in surprise. He’s completely unfazed by this, and pries them apart with ease, holding your legs open as he continues to drink you in. 

He switches between tongue fucking you and sucking on your clit a few times to figure out which you like more, settling on a pattern that has his name echoing off the walls of his bedroom. 

You can barely hear the music playing over the obscene sounds he’s making as he eats you out but you find you actually prefer them anyway. 

His mumbling is incoherent, muffled by you in every sense of the word. Still, you can tell he’s praising you, encouraging you to surrender to the pleasure. 

It doesn’t take much convincing because he has you on the edge in record time. No man has ever gotten you so close so fast, you don’t even think you’ve made yourself cum this fast and you have that shit down to a science. It’s over for you as soon as he adds his fingers into the mix. You wanted to hold off a little longer just to prove a point but Jihoon has his own point to prove.

You don’t necessarily need penetration to get off but having something to cum around does make orgasms stronger for you. He must know this, or at least have an inkling, because he pushes two fingers inside of you right when your breath catches in your throat and your body locks up and your vision starts to blur…

-

“Baby- is it okay if I call you baby? Are you alright?”

It’s more than okay, you think to yourself and then you realize the disembodied voice that sounds a lot like Jihoon’s is actually expecting an answer.

You open your eyes the tiniest bit to see a very wet, very concerned-looking Jihoon hovering above you. 

“You can call me whatever you want,” you tell him. 

“That wasn’t really the important question out of the two,” he sighs. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great!”

He breathes a sigh of relief and collapses against your shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” you laugh. “Aren’t we going to keep going?” 

Jihoon lifts his head and gives you a look. “You just came so hard you blacked out, don’t you want to take a break?” 

You shake your head. “No? Why would I?” 

His lips part and he sputters, “because you just-”

“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me, but I promise I’m fine. I’ve never been better.” 

“Never?” 

“Never ever.”

“So… I can kiss you again?” 

“As many times as you want.” 

The power you’ve bestowed on him in that one sentence immediately goes to his head and he spends the next several minutes pressing kisses into your skin as he undresses both you and himself. 

He kisses you in between every piece of clothing that comes off, every button of his shirt that he undoes, dragging out every moment until you’re both completely naked save for your ring and his necklace (and a condom). 

He’s huge, unsurprisingly. What is surprising is how hard he is already. You knew he was turned on, you could feel him through his pants when you were making out and he was grinding into you, but you didn’t realize it was like this. You haven’t even touched him and his cock is rock hard and flushed at the tip. Did he get that worked up just from giving you head? Just when you thought he couldn’t get any hotter...

He pumps himself a few times before easing into you, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he struggles to keep his composure. You aren’t faring any better, hands flying to his biceps when he bottoms out. The stretch is more intense than you’re expecting. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your head. All you can do is lay there on the satin sheets and feel as Jihoon makes himself a part of you.     

“Are you okay?” you hear him ask distantly, voice trembling. 

“I’m perfect,” you manage to respond. 

“You are,” he agrees.

Your brows wrinkle in confusion as you try to blink him back into focus. Hm?”

He just smiles and pets your hair gently. “Don’t worry about it.”

“O-okay.”

“Am I good to start moving?” 

“Yes, yes please fuck me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull his body even closer just in case he needs further convincing, gasping in relief when he finally does start to move. It’s slow at first, experimental. You’re still sensitive from cumming so every sensation is heightened. Every stroke feels better than the last and you can only hope it feels just as good for Jihoon. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, “how are you so fucking wet?”

“I really like you,” you laugh, “and you’re so good at, like, everything! It’s unfair and it’s, fuck, not my fault.”

“I really like you too,” he confesses, starting to fuck you harder. You expect him to elaborate but he doesn’t, not right away. Instead, he lets his body do the talking for him while he busies his mouth with yours. You can still taste yourself on his lips along with traces of your lipgloss and chapstick that he’d long since kissed off. It’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating.

When he raises his head and puts a hand on the headboard to steady himself, the necklace you’d made him dangles right in front of your face, the cross pendant just inches from your nose. He grabs it with his free hand and puts the charm between his teeth so that it won’t hit you, smirking at the way your eyes roll back.

“You like that?” 

 “Fuck you.”

He laughs, then mumbles, “God, you’re so hot. I’m so fucking close already.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, down into another kiss. The chain still in his mouth presses into your lips, the cold metal a striking difference from the heat of your bodies. 

“Please tell me you’re close too,” he whispers.  

“So fucking close.”

You just need a little more to get you over that edge again. You release one of your arms from around his neck and snake it in between yourselves to rub your clit but Jihoon pushes it away and replaces it with his own. He repeats the same motions with his fingers that he’d done with his tongue, begging you to cum with him. 

“Let go for me, baby,” he urges, “wanna cum together. Please let me feel you.”

You don’t black out this time but you do cry, fingernails digging into his back as you fall apart under him. Jihoon fucks you through it, helping you both ride it out. He’s shaking by the time the aftershocks pass and carefully lays himself on top of you like a blanket so that you can both catch your breath. 

“S-sorry, I thought I’d last a lot longer,” he apologizes sheepishly. “Next time I will. Maybe. Your pussy is crazy though so you can’t hold me to that.”

“You’ve got such a way with words,” you scoff. 

“What can I say, I’m a songwriter. It’s in my blood.” 

You snort and push him off you, searching your phone. Your best friend had probably alerted you missing to the authorities by now after not hearing from you for however many hours it’d been since you last updated her. You find your phone under one of the pillows and see a barrage of texts from her and the groupchat just like you predicted. Snitch. You would have to grovel later, though, because Jihoon had gotten up to start the shower and returned to get you now that the water was warm. 

He helps you step into the basin and shows you how to adjust the temperature in case it isn’t to your liking before asking if you want him to stay. You do, and you point out that he needs to shower too so it would be more efficient if you showered together anyway. 

He joins you without a second’s hesitation, kissing your shoulder from behind as he begins to gently lather your body with soap. You return the favor after he’s done with you and soon enough he’s wrapping you and himself up in plush white towels he’d grabbed from the warmer next to the shower.  

“Stay the night?” he asks as he dries you off.

You don’t have anything you need with you because you hadn’t planned on spending the night. It’s usually impossible to sleep without your overnight essentials but you’re honestly so exhausted you think you could fall asleep standing up. 

“Don’t feel like you have to,” he adds when he senses your hesitation. 

“No, I want to,” you assure him. “I just wasn’t expecting to have a sleepover so I don’t have any of my things.”

“I have an extra toothbrush,” he supplies helpfully, like that’s the only thing that could have been preventing you from making a decision. 

You smile, trying not to laugh. “Thank you, that’d be great.”

He smiles back. “Anything for you.”

this was something kind of different but i hope you liked it bestie <3 can't wait to hear your thoughts i love youuuu

[hotchgirlsummer]

mess of mine ⤷ aaron hotchner x reader

summary ⤷ aaron hotchner never expected to find an adorable woman when he was out asking around about their unsub. turns out she's all he needs to brighten up his life.

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ unsub takedown. unsub has a knife. mentions of typical cm violence, killing, and general disdain towards women. rossi calls the reader a bimbo lmao

word count ⤷ 6k words

a/n ⤷ bear with me as i am obsessed with the idea of a bimbo being with aaron in the most adorable way possible 😭 and i dont meant bimbo in a derogatory way! but just someone who isn't book smart ig? the reader in this fic i imagine to be so good with fashion in styling so yeah... i know i didnt do justice with the whole narrowing down the search for an unsub or the way they handled the take down but i have to admit this is just self-indulgent as i want be aaron's brainless girl ❤️ anyway, feedback is appreciated for this! might turn this into a mini series so yeah. happy holidays!

✪

“Excuse me, may I speak with you?” A deep voice made Y/N turn around from where she was organizing some of the new clothes that had just arrived. Smiling at the dark-haired man who stood in a crisp suit, she looked at his clothes and pouted, “I’m sorry but we don’t usually sell those suits, we do have some pastel ones in any case you’re interested in those instead.”

Hotch followed the direction in which she pointed and was surprised to see a couple of suits that are, to her credit roughly in his size, but instead of the neutral tones he’d go for they were in pastel pink and purple. Shaking his head and biting down a small smile he pulled for his badge and presented it to her, “Thank you for the recommendations but I’m afraid that’s not what I’m here for.”

Upon looking at the badge her eyes failed to focus on how he was part of the FBI and instead chuckled when she noticed his name, “Heh, Ay-ay-ron.” Her mispronunciation of his name caused his eyebrows to furrow as he gently corrected her, “Aaron, ma’am. Not Ay-ay-ron, I’m afraid.” Her little bubble popped when she looked into his eyes, mesmerized by the deep brown orbs she shook her head and clarified, “Oh I knew that, that was just from the Peele & Key skit. Never knew anyone named Aaron so couldn’t tease anyone by it.”

“Right,” came Hotch’s sharp reply, worried that their possible lead might be a bust due to the witness presenting signs of being dopey due to addiction. “Is there a back office where I can speak to you in private?” She pointed towards a door that had a curtain in front of it, “We can go there, we never let anyone in there because that’s where our safe and transaction lists are!”

As pleased as he was to hear that they keep a record of their transactions, he was becoming more and more alarmed at how easily she was giving away confidential business information. Inside the small room that he concluded acted as their little breakroom with the microwave placed on top of a small fridge, it also served as their surveillance room and like she said, a safe was placed there. He motioned for her to grab a seat and pulled the folder he brought with him. “The reason I’m here today is we were hoping you could point us in the direction of one of your customers.”

Looking up from the files, he was surprised to see that she was looking at him with a giddy smile, “What do you wanna know, Aaron?” Her bliss-like innocence made him think about if he was really going to taint her by telling her the horrors that brought them to this store; but it was quickly shrugged off when he remembered that there was a possibility that she was on some sort of drugs. “There has been a man who may have purchased clothes through your boutique as they have been using the clothes they purchased to redress their victims.”

“How’d you know they bought it from here?” She wondered out loud to which he replied, “We found one of the boutique’s plastic bags near the crime scene. Would you happen to have a log of your transactions?” Deciding against showing her the photos, he simply joined his hands atop the folder and looked at her. She nodded and turned to the computer table where there was a laptop, she placed it in the middle of the table, “Phoebe has me recording customers’ names, what they bought, and how they paid. Just ‘cause last time I had a mom angry with me just because their child bought a top that, like, showed too much cleavage.”

Taking it as she had given him permission to browse through their transactions, Hotch nodded, “And Phoebe is your manager, I’m assuming?” She nodded with a cute smile on her face, “She’s so nice. Real patient with me when I was training. Even taught me tricks on how I can close faster.”

As much as he wanted to direct his full attention to her, he was only able to focus on some parts of it as he was more focused on finding the masterlist of their transactions. Just as he clicked on the file he was greeted with the pop up that was asking him for a password which caused him to look up at her, “It’s asking for a password, would you happen to know what it is?”

For all the times he witnessed someone shake their head, he hated how adorable she looked when she did so with a little pout which made her glossed up lips even more tempting, “Only Phoebe knows it. She changes the password every month and I can’t keep up!” She leaned forward with her manicured nails resting on the top of the table, “One time she mixed in some capital and small letters with some numbers. It was very confusing.”

“I can see why that would be,” Aaron sympathized with her as a small smile broke out of his lipa; normally he’d be irritated with this kind of behavior but there is something endearing about her that made him think otherwise, “Would you mind if I have our technical analyst take a look into it?”

“But how? I don’t know the password and Phoebe didn’t leave a note anywhere!” She was clearly distressed about the whole thing, Hotch could also see the faint traces of frustration at not being able to help further in the investigation. His hand moved as if they had a mind of their own and held onto her smaller one, brushing the back of hers gently, “Well our analyst is like a magician, okay, sweetheart?”

Hypnotized by his caramel eyes and the comfort his touch radiated, she nodded and visibly relaxed, “In the meantime, there is something else you can help me out with, if you’re up for it.” Taking her nod as her consent he then untangled his hand with hers, he tried not to let her disappointed whimper affect him, as he opened the case file and landed on the page where they have already a profile of the unsub, “The man we’re looking for goes here often, he spends a long time looking through the clothes because he’s always looking for a particular detail or design. Whenever you speak to him, he appears nervous or shy, but he has enough charm to have you fooled that he won’t harm you at all.”

Hotch was silently cursing at himself for allowing himself to be distracted at the sight of her glossed up lips pursed as she thought hard about a customer who fit his description; looking at him in an exasperated manner as she pouts at him, clearly frustrated, “I’m sorry, but I can’t focus much right now. I could not even help you out with the password.” He grabbed for her hand once more and stroked the back of it gently, “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, pretty girl,” Instead of expressing surprise like he anticipated she would upon being called the nickname, she seems to be pleased and melts because of it, “Why don’t you close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Following his instructions, she nodded as she closed her eyes and let out a sigh while her hand clutched into his tightly, “Now, go back to a day where he comes in. What do you usually do when the boutique isn’t busy?”

“I like to rearrange the clothes — sometimes I group them by type of clothing, then by color.”

Pleased that she was now calmer which effectively made her able to recall when and how she interacted with the unsub, “That’s good. Now, he walks into the boutique. He sees you rearranging the racks. Does he talk to you right away or go browning?”

“I hear shuffling of the hangers first but I don’t turn yet because I was trying to get rid of the lint in one of the clothes,” She smiles, pleased that she’s being a bit more helpful right now. “Good,” His voice wasn’t the only one soothing her as he was rubbing her knuckles too, “What did he do that drew your attention away from what you were doing?”

“He threw some clothes on the floor, he wasn’t happy with the choices that we had that day.”

“What else did he say or do?” Hotch could see that she was working hard to think back to it, as if the frown lines that were appearing on her forehead wasn’t a clear indicator of it, “He yelled, saying what happened to this store and why did it suddenly turn into a dump. Just because we didn’t have any more available items of what he usually likes.”

She was pouting once more which made his heart flutter once more but the rational part of his brain took over as he inquired, “Were you able to get a good look at his face? Can you make out what he looks like?”

Pursing her lips as she thought about it, she looked at their hands that were still holding onto each other as she spoke, “I did see him, he picked up the clothes and apologies. Said that he just had a bad day at work.”

Hotch smiled and continued to guide her through this interview by saying, “That’s good, now do you see what he looks like, sweetheart?”

“He had very little hair, you know, like a buzz cut. Couldn’t pull it off though,” She giggled as she remembered how uneven the cut looked, “He also had this scar by his cheek,” Using her hand that wasn’t held down, she trailed the tip of her finger to her cheek from her cheekbone down near the side of her lips, “He was taller than me too!” Her excitement of remembering something completely died down when she took a good look at the unit chief in front of her — which worried him slightly but he wouldn’t admit that.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked to which she answered right away, “He was taller than me, but he’s not as tall as you. How tall are you, by the way?”

“6’2. Is there anything else you remember from when you guys spoke?” Aaron felt flustered once more upon her taking interest in him but was able to school his features to not give that surprise away. But his resolve was once again almost crumbling down as she tapped her fingers against his knuckles as she thought hard about her interactions with the unsub, “He returned an item once. Said that when he came up he only noticed a stain there. Phoebe told me to not accept items that have stains or any dirt in them, we always throw the clothes in the wash, you know? But there was this whole queue behind him that I just accepted the return even though I wasn’t supposed to!”

Her whine just added to the long list of what made her even more precious in his opinion as he nodded, “Do you remember where you placed this clothing? Would you mind if I took a look at it?”

Nodding she stood up and led him out of the little break room that they were in walked through the shop’s main floor — and what took the tenured profiler aback was how she did not let go of his hand, which definitely caught sight of Rossi wo was in the middle of a phone call with Garcia when he shot a smirk at the two. When a door opened to reveal another room with a washing and drying machine, and a small sink. “This is where we clean and prepare the clothes before we display them outside.”

Removing her hand from where it was engulfed in his larger one, she rifled and was looking through the four laundry baskets that were in there. Spotting the blouse he returned, she was about to pick out the blouse when he stopped her gently by pulling her arm, “Let me go through them, please.”

She nods and steps aside as she watches him put on some gloves before rifling through the baskets, “Why wouldn’t you let me help you look for it?” Hotch paused briefly and looked back at her, seeing how there was a somber look on her face as she wondered that. “You mentioned that there was dirt on the item he returned, yes?”

Nodding her head she hummed her agreement while he pointed at her hands, “Well I don’t want your pretty hands catching onto the dirt, not when your nails look good.” Complimenting a girl felt foreign to him as he hadn’t done so in a while, but it didn’t feel creepy at all. He felt vindicated when she smiled brightly and displayed one of her hands, “Thanks for noticing! I just got the shellac color done yesterday. I did a purple color last month and decided to go back to my favorite color, pink!”

Her giggles helped ease the dread he felt at the pit of his stomach upon finding the blouse that was definitely returned by their unsub. The stain she was referring to looked like blood and soil. Reaching for his back pocket, he reached for the evidence bag he carried with him in case they were to find any pieces of evidence that were hopefully going to be useful in their investigation.

“This is the blouse he returned, yeah?” He asked her, showing the stained article now in the bag. She nodded her head, “That is the one. Do you want me to clean it off before you go?”

Smiling at her well-meaning attitude he shook his head before disposing of the gloves he wore in the trash bin that was nearby. “It’s all good, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little self about it, alright? I’m gonna have to take this as evidence, can you let Phoebe know that?”

She nodded her head with a smile, “I’m sure she’ll understand. She’s nice like that, she won’t take it off my paycheck.” Gleaming at his earlier compliment she then smiled and opened the door for them to exit the tiny room. “Will I see you again?” Her voice sounded small and a bit disappointed, but he tried not to show he was feeling the same as he reached for his coat pocket and handed her his calling card. “Under these circumstances? I hope not.”

Tilting her head as she accepted the card and wondered what he meant, she had a small pout that looked very much like she wanted to be kissed. Instead, he clarified for her, “What I meant is you should call me the next time you see the buzzcut man, okay?”

“Oh! I can do that!” She cheere happily before continuing on, “Gonna call you and let you know that he’s trouble and he’s here!”

“Maybe don’t say that directly,” He warned her as he rubbed her forearms reassuringly, “Instead use a code. When you call me, tell me how you’d love for the food delivery to come right now. That way, he won't think that the FBI will be looking for him.”

Gasping at how well-thought his plan was, she giggled and jokingly gave him a pat on his shoulder as if to congratulate him, “That was so good, Aaron! You’re smart and handsome!” He wanted to prolong their conversation for as long as they could but of course the odds were against them when Rossi walked over to where they were standing over as he informed his former mentee, “Sorry to interrupt, but we got a hit and they need us back at the precinct.”

Nodding his head back to his mentor, Hotch then shot one last smile to her before offering his hand for a shake. “Thanks so much for your help, sweetheart. Keep in touch, okay?” Shaking his hand with a bright smile she nodded, “I like it when you call me sweetheart, but that’s not really my name, you know? It’s Y/N.”

“See you around then, Y/N.”

With that, the two sadly let go of the other’s hand and went back to normal, back to the reality that they had to work. As he exited the store and went ahead to maneuver the car back to the precinct, he could feel Rossi’s teasing grin at him. “What?”

“Sweetheart, huh?” Came Rossi’s reply which led Aaron to be defensive about it, “She was a bit unsettled at first. I was just trying to calm her down.” The Italian man just raised his eyebrows, getting even more suspicious if anything, “Sure, that’s all that was. Wasn’t like you found her attractive at all.”

“She is attractive, but I could also see that she was way too delicate for the horrors that we usually face,” Hoping that was enough to persuade the senior profiler that there wasn't any budding affection on his part. “All I’m saying is she is a gorgeous woman, but even you have to admit that she doesn’t seem all too smart though. She’s what would be commonly referred to as a bimbo.”

Thankful that they had arrived back in the police station so he would not have to hear what sounded like judgemental comments, Aaron slammed the driver’s door a little too hard before defending her, “How is that bad? Save your unhelpful judgements, Dave.”

Back at the station, once he had given the blouse to the precinct’s forensic team to be analyzed, the rest of the team had been brainstorming on their possible suspect pool. It didn’t take less than an hour for forensics to get back to them with a hit.

“Garcia, will you please give us the rundown on John Wesley please?” Spencer requested as soon as he phoned their technical analyst. “Born and raised in Fairfax, Virginia. Well, really raised by a single mom who did not register who the father to her baby was. He has a record for trespassing and peeping when he was only twelve, yikes. Said that since his mom had to work two, almost three jobs to support herself and him he had to be left alone in their apartment complex where sometimes peeped into the unit next door, turns out the not so good example neighbor would bring home prostitutes and saw how rough he was with them.”

“That would explain why there were bruises on the women, he must have thought that beating them up is some sick way of showing affection,” JJ deduced as Penelope unsealed court records and found out more about John. “Seems like John saw like a counselor or a therapist and he admitted that he liked the idea of women being dolled up after a rough session.”

“Seeing the prostitutes go about the rest of their day after a paid session must have left that impression on him. And he didn’t really fully comprehend how that set up works,” Reid thought out loud, to which everyone agreed.

“What’s his education, personal and work life like Garcia?” Rossi wondered.

“Well education, not so much finished high school but without any recognition you know? Took a couple of classes at the local community college but didn’t really graduate from it. Personal, still legally single by the looks of it. Work life? Oh, would you look at that.”

“Why? What is it, Garcia?” Derek was the one who snapped Garcia out of her shock. “Well it turns out he works at one of those mannequin factories. And it seems like he’s been getting reprimanded by his superior because he liked putting marks on them that looked similar to bruises. And for a while it seems like he also took some home or if not, he brought some clothes to work to dress them up.”

“That’s more than enough, did he go to work today Garcia?” Blake wondered. “He should be there, his boss had him scheduled for today until 6pm,” They all looked at the time and saw that it was 30 minutes before his shift ended. “He clocked in but has yet to clock out by the looks of it.”

“Garcia, we’re gonna need his work and home address, please.” Rossi said to which the peppy analyst declared “Done and done, stay safe crime fighters.”

“Blake, you and Reid head over to his workplace to see if he’s still there; if not, gather as much information as you can about him and how he treats the mannequins, maybe that will give us a clear COD. Morgan, you and JJ head over to the house, see if he’s holding another woman there. As soon as you see him, apprehend him. Dave and I will stay here in case there’s any further development, call for backup if needed.”

With that, the team dispersed into their assignments; Rossi slid over a cup of coffee Hotch’s way who was now engrossed as he was reading over Wesley’s file. “You know I didn’t mean anything bad with what I said earlier, right?”

That caught his attention as he looked up from the tablet and squinted a little, “Pardon me?” Rossi only chuckled as he sat down across from the unit chief before clarifying, “I knew what you meant when you mentioned that your sweetheart,” Hotch rolled his eyes at that but didn’t really feel any distaste towards him or his words, “Was a little softer than the ones we usually interact with. But I do see why you would be attracted to her — she’s kind, thoughtful, and can literally and figuratively bring color to your life.” Aaron knew that he was pertaining to how colorful her entire outfit and personality was and had to bite down a chuckle as he instead redirected his focus to the tablet, “You got all that from a few seconds of interaction?”

“What can I say? I’m a good profiler,” Now the two laughed at his little joke but did know that it was indeed the truth. “She’d be good for you, Aaron. She lives nearby so there’s no reason for you to not pursue her.”

“How about the fact that she’s younger than I am?” He remarked a bit morosefully to which he was surprised that Rossi only scoffed at, “So? It’s not like she’s underage or anything. She’d be providing you with her consent so there’s really no reason for you to feel guilt or anything like that.”

Opening his mouth to offer another rebuttal he paused mid-thought when he was suddenly hit with a realization, “Wait, why does it seem like you’re certain of her age?”

This time Rossi showed him Y/N’s file that Garcia had sent over to his phone, “Had Penelope do a background check on the employees of the boutique earlier. And let’s just say she has a squeaky clean record and is definitely of age.”

Aaron could not believe how hard Dave was so persistent with the whole thing; but when it all boils down, he’d rather have a supportive friend than one who discourages him to go out there and date. “Well I’ll leave it up to fate if I should make a move; besides I don’t even have her phone number.”

Just as he was about to be yelled at by his mentor, Hotch’s phone rang and on cue, he answered it despite the number unlisted to his contacts he answered it and greeted them by saying, “Hotchner.”

✪

“And I got that good girl faith in that tight little skirt,” Just as she was about to sing the next line, the bell above the door rang, signaling that someone just walked in, “Welcome to Beauty Boutique! Can I help you with anything?” The cheerfulness in her voice died down upon seeing who the man was. She gulped down her nervousness, hoping that the buzzcut man would notice her feelings of unease.

“Just browsing through; thanks though, sweetheart.” An invisible shiver went down her spine; I liked it more when Aaron called me that. Heh, Ay-ay-ron, she thought to herself. But that also reminded her that she was to call him if he ever showed up. Dialing his number on her phone, she bit the skin of her fingertips anxiously as she waited for him to answer.

“Hotchner,” Came his gruff greeting. She giggled for a little before plastering a serious face on before finding the words, “Hi, I’d like the food to be delivered, please.”

On the other end of the phone, Aaron could feel the dread in him knowing that Y/N was within arm’s reach of a dangerous killer. “Alright, we’re coming Y/N. Stay calm and don’t let him see panic in your face okay, sweetheart?” He looked at Dave and nodded towards the precinct’s doors; the man nodded and headed out to let the cops and the rest of the team know that they knew about Wesley’s whereabouts.

She nodded her head against the phone as she secretly watched the unsub’s movements — who was currently busying himself in the dress section of their store — before asking, “How long until the food gets here? I don’t want it to be too cold, you know?”

Chuckling against the phone as he watched how Dave drove with urgency he assured here, “We’ll be there in less than ten minutes. Y/N, do you remember if the back door is unlocked?”

“The back door? It’s unlocked but a bit heavy for me to open, it’ll be better if you come up to the store’s front for the food,” She answered as she recalled how much she hated throwing out the garbage during closing time as it was like lifting a whole tree when she opened the back door.

“Okay good, another thing — if you can try to keep the unsub, or the buzzcut guy, within the store that’d be great. If not, make sure to keep note of which direction he goes into, alright?”

“I’m not sure I can try your spicy specialty. But I’ll give it a try. How long til it gets here again?” She asked nervously, she had eye contact with the unsub and she didn’t like the smile he shot her.

“Almost there, sweetheart. I promise,” Aaron said as he hung up the phone call when he noticed that they were a block away and had to park their vehicle. As they stepped outside he gave instructions to uniform officers to take the back entrance and that it could be a little heavy when they try to open it but it is unlocked for their convenience. “I take it back, Aaron,” Dave spoke as he and Aaron cautiously made their way to the front entrance, “Your girl’s a lot smarter than I gave her credit for.”

“Not my girl,” He said, but Hotch did admit that it sounded nice to refer to her as that.

✪ “Got some food delivered here?” Came the unsub’s question as he brought some items to the till. She nodded as she began ringing up the items. “I did, it’s lunchtime,” She tried to convince him and by the looks of it, he bought it, “Did you enjoy your shopping experience today?”

“Sure did,” he pointed to the clothes, “Found great deals on these great clothes,” Shooting her a wink that didn’t do anything to make her feel attracted to him he tried flirting by saying, “Even had a pretty view when I did so.”

An awkward laugh was all that she could give him before placing all of the items in a bag before telling him, “Your total for today is $29.54, how would you like to pay for that today?”

Reaching for his back pocket, he grabbed for his wallet before answering, “On cash, beautiful.” She just smiled as he handed her a fifty dollar bill. Opening her till she had her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he counted his change but was stopped when he held her hands. Her audible gasp just caused him to smirk even more as he said, “Say, why don’t you keep the change, and in return you can just let me take you out on a date hm? That sounds like a fair trade to me.”

“I can’t do that, my boyfriend wouldn’t like it if I went with someone who wasn’t him,” Came her reply. The man rolled his eyes as he held a tighter grip on her hand causing her to yelp out in pain, “Cut the bullshit. I’ve been here a lot of time to know for a fact that a dumb bimbo like you doesn’t have a boyfriend. So when I say we’re going out, we’re going out.”

“James Wesley, this is the FBI; let go of the woman and put your hands up in the air.”

Tears pooled in her eyes upon seeing that Aaron was in the store; this time he ditched his suit jacket and instead had a bulletproof vest. Instead of following his orders he held onto her wrist more and jumped over the counter, pressing his front to her back as he grabbed a blade from his back pocket and pressed it against her throat, “One step close and I’ll slit her throat.”

Unable to hold back her whimpers, Y/N was now crying as she felt the cold touch of the blade against her skin. “Aaron, please,” Her broken cry broke Hotch’s heart, but he knew he had to be smart; she was at the hands of a sadistic man who took pleasure in beating the crap out of women.

From behind her, James scoffed, “Don’t tell me he is the boyfriend you were lying about. Didn’t think you could land a man like him.”

“You don’t have to hurt her, James. She didn’t hurt you, she didn’t give you the false promise of love, right?” Dave negotiated, on the drive over they were given new intel about how he was hurt by his fiancee when she left him for someone who was abusive to her. Thinking that he had to inflict pain on women in order for them to love and stay loyal to him — that coupled with his distorted view of the prostitutes view rough sex — set him on the course of killing and beating up women then dressing them up, much like how the prostitutes went about their night.

“Hurting women doesn’t make them stay, James. Treating and treasuring them right is how you get them to stay,” Hotch added, which didn’t sit well with the unsub as he shook his head, his hold on Y/N getting loose as he didn’t press on the knife to her anymore. “Yeah? Is that how you get this skank?”

“Don’t you dare call her that,” Came Hotch’s cold reply but he was quick to think of a way to get Y/N out of the situation safely. He made eye contact with the uniformed officer that snuck around the back — which for some reason John didn’t notice, but they weren’t complaining about that — he looked at John's shoulder then to the officer's gun. “Shoot in the shoulder?” Mouthed Officer Harrison, to which Hotch mouthed back “Wait.”

“If anything I’m surprised you’re able to hold onto a woman,” Hotch goaded him, but not too much John would take it out on Y/N. “By the looks of it you can’t even hold onto her right.”

As John looked to see his hands he shouted, “Now!” As planned, Officer Harrison shot John’s shoulder while Rossi shot his elbow, causing him to release his grip on Y/N — who immediately ran into Aaron. Face wet with tears buried in his chest as Aaron pressed loving rubs on her back.

“I was so scared, Aaron. Tried not to panic like you said but he had a knife,” She recalled with so much fear in her voice. He soothed her by rubbing her back keeping her eyes focused on him and not on John who was now being assisted by Rossi and Harrison out of the store and into the cop car. “I know, sweetheart. And you did so well, I saw you talking to him and trying to not let him get away. Wasn’t your fault okay?”

Wiping her tears with his thumbs he tried to console her, “He’s a bad guy, no matter how good you treated him he would have been mean to you. But you best believe I would not let that happen.” She felt something warm — whether it were his hands that settled on her cheeks once he was done wiping away her tears or the way he didn’t stop until the unsub was away from her — but she realized she loved how safe and secure he made her feel was what made her feel warm.

“Thank you for saving me, Aaron. You’re the best, you know?” Now it was his turn to be flustered as he chuckled and shook his head, “Was just doing my job, sweetheart. Couldn’t let you have any more dirt in your clothes and hands.”

That elicited a giggle from her, and he was happy to see that she wasn’t now in tears and distressed by earlier events. “If you need someone to talk to, after how bad today was, you can always give me a call, okay?”

“And if I just wanted to talk to you? Or maybe go out with you for a date?” It was adorable to see her ask him, looking smaller than him and so nervous. He nodded and rubbed her cheeks lovingly, “I’d love that, sweetheart. I’d kiss your cute nose but unfortunately I’m still on the job.”

Nodding in understanding, she then smiled, “Don’t be a stranger and shoot me a text okay? Oh! That reminds me,” She stepped out within his reach and grabbed the pastel pink suit that she pointed to earlier and gave it to him, “Please take this! One of the things I’d love to see is you in this. I just know you can pull it off!”

Looking down at the clothing article, he shook his head as he laughed a little at how insistent she was being, “Sweetheart, I like how you have faith in me but I don’t think this will suit me really well.”

“Please? For me, Aaron?” She looked up at him with a pout and knew right then and there Hotch had found his kryptonite. So, with a sigh, he nodded and smiled, “Alright, but you’re gonna have to give me a hand on how to dress up with this suit okay?” Smiling so wide she gave him a hug and hummed, “Yes, yes! Thank you, Aaron!”

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re needed back,” Rossi came and with that the two ended their hug. Y/N smiled at him as she held up her hand and grabbed a scarf and gave it to Rossi. “A little something as a thank you for saving me, Mr.”

“Rossi,” He provided, “Y/N, right?” Rossi offered his hand for a shake to which she accepted and confirmed that it was indeed her name. “Good eye, this will go well with this jacket.”

“Italian suit, right? That scarf’s material shouldn’t rub on it the wrong way.” At her input Rossi smiled at her then at Aaron, “Good catch,” Before bidding adieu to her, “See you around, Y/N.”

She looked at Aaron as if to ask what he meant with his remark but was instead interrupted when Aaron smiled at her and lifted her hand up and kissed her knuckles, “I’ll call you later, sweetheart. Take care for now.”

Feeling bold, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose, “Thank you, Aaron, for keeping me safe. I’ll be thinking of you.” And he knew that as he walked out of the store and rode back with Rossi to the station, his thoughts would be clouded by her as well. And for the first time in a while, he was glad to have this kind of distraction. She might have been a bit of a mess, but from here on out she was his mess.

part two: i’m a mess but

[kick-a-long]

i find it so desperately sad that goyim generally would be so much less antisemitic if jews started physically fighting back with guns or sticks in every country. calling for the murder of muslims all over the world, if the jewish population was big enough to have large scary groups of crazy fringe fundamentalist synagogues all over the world, a billion strong, that preached murder and hate so goyim could look down on jews like some noble savage in need of assistance and western education and protection. so we could be reformed in obvious patronizing ways because there were so many of us that we had militant violent fringe extremists, like christians and muslims have, mixed in with the normal jews.

if jews didn't have such a reputation for success and intelligence maybe conspiracy theories would stop blaming us for controlling the world. if we felt less in danger maybe we wouldn't be so obsessed with long term survival.

is antisemitism some warped form of envy? maybe. what sucks is that jews are no better or worse than anyone else. some jews are brutes and some are the most wonderful people imaginable, just like any other group. what sucks is we don't all live up to the reputation of tactical geniuses and wizards with mind control magic. all of us jews are just tired and abused humans who have lived with 2000+ years of generational trauma and the endless fall out from a popular jewish book written 3000+ years ago describing the best practices of jewish culture. It has some great stories, histories, life advice, diet recommendations, hygiene, and rules about how to treat others.

is that such a crime?

trying to show a path forward? not demanding anyone else follow those rules but wanting to do our best to follow them anyway? how to live a good life that makes the world better and makes you proud to have been on earth for the time you were there? jews fail to do this all the time, just like everyone else. I fail all the time. why are people so obsessed with that? people say shylock is a stereotyped antisemitic character but,

"I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."

so why do jews always have to be the better man? why do we have to apologize for being angry and sad and hating the people that attack us? that was written by Shakespeare, a christian in the 1600s who often was in debt to jewish money lenders, the only profession left to jews at that time. even he saw the double standard. it makes a good point.

now, i don't want vengeance, i don't want violence, but i feel vengeful. i feel angry that i am unsafe because of play actors and terrorist supporters who want revenge for jews existing but scream bloody murder when jews refuse to dig their own graves, beg forgiveness for ever being born, and lay down in them to be mocked and pissed on and abused in the worst ways imaginable for the entertainment and conquest of it. i want peace with them. they are as human as i am, full of foibles and anger. i want nothing to do with them. i want them to never come near a jew again for the rest of time.

i am sad. all i want is to feel my feelings and advocate for what is the most ethical and practical work around to a world filled with unending suffering while i am still alive. i want them on thier side to live in the world they want and me on my side to live in the world i want. why don't these children of all ages, lost in delusions of fantastical battles and ultimate good and evil, see that? why can't I be a human first as well as a jew first? why do they ask me to pick? why am i not allowed to pick?

it's been almost a year. we're all so tired.

I'm going to a music festival. I'm trying to decide whether to wear a star. why is it dangerous to wear a star around my neck?

[maniculum]

Odd interaction at the bookstore yesterday. Got summoned to the register in my capacity as Employee Who Knows About Old Books because a customer wanted to know what Don Quixote was about.

(Yes, this does mean that the employee already at the register wasn’t able to answer that question. I have a lot of “what are they teaching you in those schools?” interactions with my younger co-workers.)

Anyway, I gave the customer a quick synopsis. He asked if I’d recommend it, and I said I would, that it was not only well-written but also pretty accessible & engaging for a novel written four hundred years ago. Then he asked if he would “see things differently after reading it.”

He then elaborated that he really liked Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist and wanted other books he read to have a similar paradigm-shifting effect.

(I haven’t read The Alchemist, specifically because every time someone recommends it to me they use this same kind of language, which makes me feel like they’re trying to get me to join a cult rather than read a book.)

We are in a college town, so “young person who’s just learned what philosophy and poetry are and now thinks of themselves as Deep” is a Type of Guy we encounter fairly frequently.

(Just a few hours before this, I overheard a young man recommending a book to his female companion because it would “help with her creative energies”.)

So it’s not that this is particularly unusual in vibes, it’s more that… this seems like an odd standard to hold a novel to before you read it. And it’s an odd question to ask your local bookseller — “will this book change my life?” I dunno, man, I don’t know your life. Maybe it will, books do that sometimes.

Anyway, I told him “probably”, because honestly Don Quixote is a really good book and I think more people should read it. And, I dunno, maybe it will make him see things differently.

(It might even make him see novels as intrinsically worth reading rather than as vessels for personal change.)

I have no idea if that worked, because as mentioned I wasn’t at the register at the time. I went back to organizing the used books and didn’t see him again. Kind of hope he bought it.

(To be clear, at no point during this conversation was he holding a copy of Don Quixote. I had to instruct him to look under “C” for “Cervantes” if he decided he wanted to buy it. His curiosity was sparked by a set of novelty bookends.)

[kpopfanfictrash]

Until Death (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor:@baebae-goodnight​ for this unbelievable moodboard truly, like, WHAT

Genre: Green Bone Saga!AU || Organized Crime / Forbidden Romance / Suspense + Action

Author’s Note: This one shot is set in the Green Bone Saga universe, written by Fonda Lee. You do not need to have read this series in order to read this one shot (I explain concepts/terms), but I do HIGHLY encourage you to read this series at some point because it’s absolutely amazing!! Anyways, Yoongi dropped the Haegeum MV and I was like.... did he read Jade City lol. Further disclaimer this is not a retelling of the books, nor does the Kaul family exist in this version of Kekon (although the No Peak clan does)

Pairing: Yoongi / Reader

Synopsis: Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan. 

When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.    

Rating: 18+

Warnings: graphic violence, fight scenes and mature content (character dies in the story; not main character) 

NSFW Warnings: dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, spanking, oral (female), multiple orgasms, possessiveness, unprotected sex (couple is monogamous), spit, hand job

Word Count: 17,650

[ Cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

“There’s a rat in our midst,” Jungkook growls, slamming his fist to the table.

No one in the room flinches, although several glance fleetingly in the direction of the Pillar. The typically mild-mannered head of No Peak frowns, clearly disturbed by the recent attacks. Only a madman wouldn’t be.

Still, his voice remains calm while answering your second Fist. “That remains to be seen,” Yoongi says. As though the current situation could be perceived as anything but a threat.

Subtle, you flick a glance towards him, then away. In the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi’s lips curve before smoothing to nothing. Lowering his palms to rest on the table, the ends of his sleeves rise to reveal solid jade.

Leaning back, you survey the table before you. As the Horn of No Peak, it’s your job to defend the clan’s territory – by force, if necessary. Several levels of Green Bone warriors report into you, including your Fingers (the lowest of soldiers) and Fists, your direct reports.

Jungkook became Second Fist only a month prior but already, he’s created a name for himself. An impulsive, somewhat violent name for himself.

In this case though, you happen to agree with him. Not one, but two Lantern Men – commercial patrons of No Peak – have turned up dead in the past week, tortured beyond recognition. Over a week has passed since the first murder and still, there’s no suspect. Neither man was wealthy nor wore jade beyond a single piercing. Each was killed in a different part of town with no family in common. For a week, you’ve been racking your brain for motive and coming up empty.

Peeved by the thought, your fingertips dig into your leather jacket. Perceiving the shift to your aura, Yoongi starts to turn – catching himself just in time and facing forward.

An assortment of Lantern Men, Fists and Luckbringers (the money-making side of the clan) sit around a worn table. All watch the Pillar warily, as though uncertain how this meeting will end.

Tilting his head, strands of dark hair fall across Yoongi’s forehead. Studs of green line his ears, a single bolt of jade threaded through his right brow. Since the Academy, Yoongi has preferred to wear his jade as piercings – except for the clusters on fingers and wrists. He flexes these now, a visual display of power.

Jade from the island of Kekon is powerful; toxic to all but the Green Bones trained to wear it. To them, it grants unique power in each of the six disciplines: Strength, Steel, Perception, Lightness, Deflection and Channeling. Being from Kekon is no guarantee a person can wear and use jade, though. Individual tolerance varies, with most not able to withstand more than a few pieces.

No one in No Peak wears more jade than the Pillar – no one but you, that is.

This thought brings little comfort in a room such as this. Most of the sycophants seated around the table would turn on Yoongi – and No Peak – in a heartbeat. If it’d enrich their coffers, they would switch sides, honor be damned. You trust your Fists and Fingers but find it hard to extend the same grace to Namjoon’s side of the clan.

Kim Namjoon, known as the Weather Man, heads No Peak’s monetary ventures. Ranking as highly as you, he reports directly to Yoongi. Turning to face Namjoon, you make no attempt to hide your suspicion.

Although he doesn’t meet your gaze, his annoyance flares. Namjoon’s jade aura is weaker, fueled by one or two jade rings on his fingers. More would be unnecessary in his line of work. Namjoon’s lips tighten, able to Perceive your attention.

Perception is one of the more interesting skills of a Green Bone. Wearing jade creates an aura and through it, other Green Bones can sense emotion and intention. For example, you sense that Namjoon is annoyed, but you don’t know why. You can hazard a guess, based on the context.

Although you both graduated from the Academy at the same time, you barely knew Namjoon in your youth. The Kim family is legendary, having fought alongside Yoongi’s grandfather to dispel the Shotarian occupation of Kekon. You, on the other hand, moved to the city of Janloon when you were ten and joined the Academy as an outsider.

Not only were your social circles different, so were your interests. Even as children, Namjoon preferred brains over brawn, while you – well, you don’t enjoy violence, but you understood its necessity in protecting those you love. Ever since your father’s death, what you love has been No Peak.

You suppose Yoongi could’ve picked a worse person for Weather Man. Namjoon is shrewd, if occasionally withholding. He has the best interests of the clan at heart, even if you often disagree about what those interests are.

“Min-jen,” Namjoon says, the respectful title flowing from him like water. “I share your frustration with the current situation. My men are, of course, at your disposal.”

Your gaze narrows on his profile. Namjoon loves to offer help but when push comes to shove, it’s your side of the clan on the front lines.

“And what will your men do?” you inquire, drawing heads your way. “The entirety of their green couldn’t be seen in a desert.”

Someone down the table coughs, although they swiftly fall silent when Yoongi clears his throat. Disappointment radiates from him, turning his head.

“One’s worth to the clan isn’t measured in jade,” he says levelly. “You’d do well to remember that, in the future.”

Sitting back, you school your expression to nothing. Shame swirls in your stomach though because Yoongi is right. His sister is a stone-eye; someone unable to use or wear jade. Yejun feels nothing of jade’s effects – either positive or negative – but serves the clan in her own way. Kekon is superstitious about such things though and, when Yejun was born, rumors ran rampant it boded ill for Yoongi’s leadership. Rumors the Pillar has done his best to stamp out.

“Yes, Min-jen,” you acquiesce, inclining your head.

“My Luckbringers are reviewing financial statements of the victims,” Namjoon says, as though you haven’t spoken. “If there’s any monetary connection between them, we’ll find it.”

“My Fists are also investigating,” you add. “We’ll keep the clan updated.”

A scoff from the lower end of the table. Turning your head, you find Mr. Hu, a wealthy Lantern Man, watching you with a scowl. Middle-aged, with a portly belly from hoji, the man has never accepted you as his Horn. As the first woman bestowed the honor, you expected there to be some resistance.

Not that it endears him to you. Sweetly, you smile and lean forward. “Did you have something to add, Mr. Hu?”

Briefly, his gaze drops to the jade around your throat. Forcing a swallow, he forces his gaze to lift. You must give him credit; the man continues, despite the visual reminder you could kill him in seconds.

“Investigating what?” he asks, puffing out his chest. “I saw the second victim being brought in. There was… well. There was little to see. Tortured,” he adds, addressing the muttering around the table. “The man was mercilessly tortured before he was killed.”

Perceiving the shift in Yoongi’s emotions – edging towards fury – you hasten your response.

“Mr. Hu,” you say, lightly resting your hand on a Talon knife. “I thank you, for having the foresight to raise such an important issue.”

Frowning, he glances left and right, but his fellow Lantern Men avoid him. Likely, they understand this won’t end well. Indeed, Jungkook is already eyeing the man with barely concealed malice, thumb stroking slowly over the hilt of his sword.

“The fact that both victims were tortured,” you continue, conversational. “Almost as though the killer were looking for something.”

“Or someone,” Namjoon adds.

“Or someone,” you agree, focusing on Mr. Hu. “My men are searching the murder sites for more information now. While they do that though, are there any other details of an active murder investigation you’d like to know? Perhaps whether the victims pissed themselves before death, or left money behind?”

Paling, Mr. Hu seems to realize how this sounds. “N-no,” he says. “Thank you for sharing what you have, Horn-jen.”

Ignoring him, you glance in the direction of Yoongi. “We’ll find the traitor. I swear it.”

His aura flares, full of emotion unrelated to the conversation at hand. “Of that, I have no doubt,” Yoongi says lowly.

Heat floods your face, sensing his intent and swiftly, you look away before others can notice.

“While the Horn and Weather Man conduct their investigations, I ask for everyone to remain on high alert,” Yoongi says, surveying the table. “No Peak will increase Green Bone presence in the border districts. If you see anything of interest, contact the clan.”

Several Lantern Men relax at the mention of Green Bones. You know business has been hard as of late, with so many customers shaken by the violence. Hopefully, this will convince the people No Peak has the situation in hand. Otherwise, why would the Lantern Men continue to pay for your protection?

Glancing at the bloody photographs laid out on the table, you can hardly blame them for their skittishness. Whoever killed these two victims was skilled. Their torture tactics are pristine, better than most graduates from the Academy. A skill you also possess, although you choose not to use it outside of last resorts. Even then –

Your fingers cease tapping against your leather jacket. Straightening, you realize the skill displayed is exactly that of the Academy. The cuts, the angle of the blade and depth of the wounds – all of it, textbook. A Green Bone did this, you’re certain.

Sharply, you glance up and allow your distress to show. Voicing your suspicion aloud would only end badly. Above all, the Pillar must appear in control. If a Green Bone – even a disgraced one – is murdering citizens of No Peak, it would be a disaster. Better to discuss your suspicions in private before airing them to the entire group.

Perceiving the shift in your emotions, Yoongi stiffens. “We’ll update you with any new information,” he says, dismissal clear in his tone. “Thank you for coming.”

Chair legs scrape floorboards, patrons filing out as they murmur to one another. Asha, your First Fist, hovers by the door until you give a discreet shake of your head. Nodding, she slips out and you see Jungkook follow.

To one side, Yoongi converses tersely with his Pillarman, Hoseok, until Hoseok exhales and swiftly exits the room. Kim Namjoon stays, drinking a glass of water at the opposite end of the table. Once you three are alone, Yoongi holds up his hand. He waits, utterly still until the last jade aura fades.

Only then does he turn. “Well, Y/N?” he drawls. “What did you realize?”

Not wasting time, you pluck a photograph from the pile and toss it before him. “These cuts,” you explain. “They were made by a moon blade. So precise – so even. Exactly the length taught at the Academy. Which means–”

“Shit,” Namjoon mutters. He sets down his glass. “We’re fucked.”

You give him a look. “Precisely.”

Yoongi frowns, his distaste palpable. “This is the work of a Green Bone.”

“I think so.”

Pushing his chair back to stand, Namjoon grabs a photo and turns it sideways. “Why would a Green Bone go after a Lantern Man, though?” he wonders out loud. “He wasn’t even wearing jade when he died – it’s against aisho.”

Yoongi’s lips press tightly together.

Aisho refers to the strict code of honor governing all who wear jade. There are many tenets, but first and foremost is that those who wear jade don’t harm the jadeless. Aisho also limits retaliation following honorable duels, ensuring the clan lines remain intact.

A Green Bone who follows aisho would never attack a citizen.

Which forces you to draw an unsavory conclusion. “Unless they didn’t care,” you say, voicing the worst possibility. “The killer could have been trained as a Green Bone and left.” Stiffening slightly, you glance at Yoongi. “You don’t think…”

“I do,” Yoongi mutters. His jaw clenches, then unclenches. “Maro.”

Namjoon swears softly.

Maro – known to most as Toh Marosun – is a traitor to No Peak. He grew up in the same circle as Namjoon, Yoongi, and other high-ranking Green Bones. Maro attended the Academy in the same class as Yoongi, and everyone expected him to become the Horn. Brilliant, swift, and vicious in battle – not to mention one of Yoongi’s closest friends.

Despite this fact, you never liked him. Having grown up the only daughter of an unremarkable Lantern Man, you experienced Maro the way most people did. Toh Marosun was cruel. Saccharine, willing to say whatever people in power wanted to hear. Maro knew exactly what to do, what to say to manipulate followers. From the beginning, you saw Maro for who he was – a bully.

He joined No Peak’s ranks as a Finger, but swiftly rose to prominence. By the time you graduated, Maro was the youngest Fist in No Peak’s history. What he lacked in jade tolerance he made up for in cunning. Maro was always more sensitive to jade, but he was also smart. Talented, with the skills he did have.

In Green Bone society, there are two ways to gain jade – gifted or earned. Green Bones win jade through physical duels, taking the green from those they defeat. Recklessly, Maro began to challenge rival clans and often, he won despite not being able to wear his spoils. He displayed his jade often, which you suppose should’ve been the first warning sign.

Maro cared too much for personal glory. In Kekon, glory is achieved through the clan. Even the Horn and the Weather Man only exist to further No Peak’s prowess. The Pillar themselves is the embodiment of the clan, not their own person.

Even now, you recall the day Maro’s crimes were exposed.

Seven years prior, you were a Finger on routine patrol when Sain, your Fist, was commanded to return to the Min property. He brought you along, stationed by the front gate to ensure no one left.

You guarded with another Finger, one whose name you don’t recall. What you do remember is the utter stillness of the day, the unnatural calm which comes before a storm. The sun was bright overhead, a thick bead of sweat sliding down your neck when the door behind you at the main house banged open.

A man tumbled down the steps, landing in a heap in the billowing dirt. Coughing, he struggled to right himself, but both his hands were bound. From your spot at the gate, you couldn’t see clearly but you scented his blood. Heard the bruised rasp of his breath.

Yoongi prowled down the front steps, his famed Da Tanori steel glinting in his right hand. His gaze never wavered from the man bound before him – Toh Marosun, his former friend.

“Do you deny it?” Yoongi asked, his voice soft but deadly. Despite this, you Perceived conflicting emotions within.

Toh Maro stayed silent. Eventually, he exhaled.

“No,” he said sullenly.

Unable to stop it, you turned and saw Maro staring unflinchingly up at the Pillar. Yoongi stood over him, his lips a thin line of displeasure. You didn’t know what had happened but feared the worst from Yoongi’s expression.

In that moment, you didn’t envy the Pillar. Yoongi had become head of No Peak only a year prior; in many ways, he was as untried as you were. He was a silent, intelligent man and many people thought they could take advantage of him.

They were wrong, of course, but it would take time to prove that.

On that day though, you felt the dull grief to his aura. “Then I am sorry,” Yoongi said quietly. “For you leave me with no choice. Toh Marosun, you stand accused of smuggling jade from No Peak – one of the worst crimes a Green Bone can commit.”

The entirety of your blood drained as you turned around.

Spine steeling, you gripped your knives tighter. There were few crimes so awful they couldn’t be forgiven, but stealing from the clan was one of them. Cutting off Maro’s ear would be too light a punishment, especially with Yoongi so untried a Pillar. Death would be acceptable. Expected, even.

It would be the Pillar’s call – the clans weren’t run as a democracy. Straining Perception, you listened closely behind you. Although you’d interacted little with the Pillar, the man behind the mask couldn’t help but intrigue you.

Broken sobs filled the clearing, and you heard the sudden thud of knees hitting the grass. No jade aura accompanied the sound.

“Yoongi, please,” gasped a voice – feminine, young. “Brother, please spare him. Don’t kill him, he –”

“Silence.” Yoongi’s voice echoed over the courtyard. The newcomer obeyed with a lone, stifled sob. “You’ve been found innocent, sister,” he said, sounding weary. “But that does not make you innocent.”

The threat of his words hung overhead and although Yejun continued to sniffle, the sound of it muffled. When you glanced sideways again, you saw her face in her palms.

Yoongi watched dispassionately, although you sensed his inner turmoil. Rumors had reached your ears by then that Maro was dating Yejun. It seemed to be true, based on the way she pleaded.

Returning to face the gate, the yard remained silent until Yoongi exhaled. “Toh Marosun,” he declared, his sword sheathing. “From this day on, you are banished from Kekon. Return your jade to the clan and go. If you return to Janloon, your life is forfeit. Take him,” he said, speaking to someone you couldn’t see.

You didn’t dare turn, but tugged your knives a half-inch from their sheathes. If Maro decided to fight, you’d be expected to protect the Pillar. For whatever reason – disbelief, or respect – Maro didn’t attack, and no violence took place. He left in the waiting car, but you’ll never forget the look on his face when he passed.

Despite your young age, you recognized the glint in his eye. Fury, tempered by disbelief. He’ll be back, you thought grimly. It was only a matter of time before someone like Maro declared vengeance.

Your gaze slid to Yoongi, wondering if he felt the same. He watched Maro leave, his expression carefully neutral before he turned around and entered the house. Yejun had already disappeared, likely leaving upon Maro’s banishment.

The expression on Yoongi’s face now is similar, staring down at the photograph. Another moment passes before you realize something else.

“They knew each other,” you say, glancing between the victims. Reaching out, your hand lightly touches a photo. “Icho Retubin. He worked for the Weather Man after the Academy. And this man here” – you touch the other – “Niru Roluan. A low-ranking Finger who quit after a year.”

“He was friendly with Marosun,” Namjoon recalls.

“Yes.” Eyes wide, you look up. “After Maro’s scheme was uncovered, both of them quit and began working as Lantern Men.”

“Interesting,” Yoongi muses. “So. Toh Marosun returns. He tortures and kills his former friends – why?” he murmurs, speaking more to himself than either of you.

Brow lowering, you search for the easy answer. “He’s torturing them for something,” you say, glancing at the wounds. “Information, maybe.”

Yoongi tilts his head. “Which begs the question – has Maro found what he wants, or is he still looking?”

“Does it matter?”

Namjoon shrugs at your question. “If Maro hasn’t found what he wants, he’ll strike again. If he did find it – well. We might be out of time.”

Yoongi considers. “He didn’t find it,” he says, turning around to stride for the door. “Call it a gut feeling.”

Your gaze narrows on his backside. “Let’s call it more than that.”

Yoongi turns around, lips twitching in a smile only you see. “I can think of two reasons Maro might return. One – jade.” The Pillar lifts a finger. “Or, two – revenge.” His second lifts.

You and Namjoon exchange a look. “Maro could find jade on the Shotarian black market if he wanted,” you say.

“Exactly.” Yoongi drops his hand. “Which is why I’m inclined to call this revenge.”

“Maro could want revenge on anyone, though,” Namjoon points out. “Most likely whoever sold him out in the first place.”

“Well, that makes this easier.” Casual, Yoongi tucks both hands in his pockets. “I sold him out. I discovered details of his jade smuggling in Yejun’s apartment.”

“Yejun?” Sharply, you look at him. “Your sister knew?”

Yoongi’s gaze hardens. “Yes, she knew,” he says. “I’m sure you understand why I kept that piece of information to myself until now. Yejun wasn’t involved with the smuggling, but she knew it was happening… and didn’t tell me,” he adds, his voice grim.

Mind reeling, you attempt to digest this piece of information. Betrayal lodges deep in your gut, although you do your best to dispel it. It’s pointless to expect Yoongi to tell you everything – especially events which occurred before you became the Horn.

Namjoon also looks troubled. “That’s… but that means–”

“Careful what you say, Namjoon.” Although his tone remains soft, Yoongi’s body tenses. “The matter is done. I punished Yejun as I saw fit, within my right as Pillar. Trust me,” he adds, his façade cracking a little. “Her deception was dealt with.”

Silently, you wonder if this is why Yejun studied in Espenia. As a stone-eye, she can’t serve the clan as a Green Bone, but could have taken other paths. She could have become a Luckbringer on Namjoon’s side or begun a career in government. Instead, Yejun left Janloon for a foreign University. It was only recently she returned to start her residency at Jan Royal University.

Curious, your gaze flicks to Yoongi. If what he says is true, then surely, he knows Maro is coming for him. Yejun might not have betrayed him, but Min Yoongi did. It’s only a matter of time before Maro discovers what happened.

Blood simmering, you do your best to hide your frustration. Your role as Horn would be much easier if the Pillar would be honest about all his enemies. Suppressing your scowl, you ignore the heat of Yoongi’s gaze on the side of your face.

“Namjoon,” he says, turning away. “I want a list of potential targets. People Maro has worked with in the past or knew at the Academy. Assuming he doesn’t have the information he wants, Maro will strike again.”

“On it,” Namjoon says, already heading for the door.

Although faint, you can feel the cool brush of his aura passing. You envy the Weather Man’s ability to ingest information and remove partiality. Even after something like Yejun’s betrayal, he remains unflappable. Namjoon simply absorbs and executes, doing what needs to be done.

Left alone with your thinking, you can’t claim the same. Namjoon’s jade aura fades when he exits, footsteps receding to leave you alone with the Pillar.

You refuse to look at him, casting your Perception outward. A Green Bone with as much jade as you have can Perceive a beetle crawling through the tall grass outside. Feel the rumble of cars on the distant streets. Hear Yoongi’s heart beat from across the room.

Wearing jade results in a dizzying expansion of knowledge. You’re used to it by now – years of training and genetics lessen the risk of being overwhelmed. Without either, it’s all too easy to lose control.

It’s one of the reasons jade-smuggling is a serious crime. The other being that jade is the main source of income funding the clans. Selling jade through non-regulated channels increases the risk of it falling into the wrong hands. Hands which could bring negative consequences to other people or themselves.

Aisho outlines a strict Green Bone code of honor. It states Kekon first, clan first, family first. Occasionally, all three are tied and occasionally, one outstrips the other. Maro disobeyed every rule by selling jade to the Shotarians.

Maro knew all this and chose to continue, blinded by greed. He placed his personal glory above that of the clan, something which must be dealt with. To a lesser degree, Yejun chose Maro over No Peak, as well – which is why you’re surprised Yoongi said nothing.

“Y/N.”

Yoongi speaks your name softly, forgoing your title.

Stiffening, you force yourself not to turn. “Don’t call me that.”

“What?” he asks, his voice moving closer. “Your name?”

Hand brushing your elbow, Yoongi turns you to face him. Against all better judgement, you obey – and find your first mistake. Meeting his gaze, a ripple of familiarity – of home, a voice whispers – goes through you.

Shutting all this down, you lift your chin. “You lied to me.”

Yoongi’s expression flattens. “I couldn’t explain.”

“You could have. You chose not to.”

“I couldn’t,” he insists. “I’m still not sure I didn’t make a mistake. I showed mercy, Y/N.” Yoongi pauses, then swallows. “I exiled my friend and sent my sister away – and now, look what’s happened. Two men have been killed, and it’s my fault. How could I have told you,” he adds, the words desperate, “when I knew it’d result in that look on your face?”

“I’m looking at you like this because you lied. Not because of a decision you made in the past. Mercy isn’t a weakness, Min Yoongi.”

“Some would say that it is,” he murmurs. Fleeting, his gaze drops to your lips. 

Yoongi drops all restraint so his emotion, so often concealed, smears through his aura. Longing, anger and fear, mixed with worry. 

White-hot electricity jumps over your skin. Seeing the normally reserved Pillar undone in your presence is a heady knowledge. Knowledge that terrifies you, even as everything in you aches to move closer.

“It’s not,” you exhale, meeting his gaze.

Something falters in his expression and Yoongi stares at you, heated. You Perceive his intent – a rough flare to his aura – a moment before Yoongi bends and crushes your mouth to his. His kiss is thorough, intent, his body curving with yours while walking you towards the wall.

You instantly cave, unable to withstand the desperate sweep of his tongue. “Yoongi,” you groan, fingers gripping him tighter. “People will hear.”

“Let them,” he says, his voice undeterred.

Before you can respond, his lips fall upon yours with increasing urgency. Hand slipping beneath your jacket, Yoongi cups your waist to pull you taut against him. Eyes falling shut, you swiftly scan the building for lingering Green Bones. Finding no one, you return your attention to Yoongi and bite down on his lip.

He growls, grip tightening when you tug him towards you. Breaking away, Yoongi lowers his head to suck the curve of your throat. He lingers at your jade, tongue darting out to lick the skin underneath. Your entire body shudders, aroused by the sensation.

Touching another person’s jade is intimate. Most wouldn’t allow their own family the honor, let alone someone they sleep with. Skin contact with jade imbues power, and the swift rise and fall of it can be dangerous. Only Yoongi is brave – or foolish – enough to risk the effects.

Spine on the wall, you inhale at the rush. Yoongi’s length presses against your core, already hard through the confines of his pants. It seems unfathomable that this man, a stranger to you for so long, can inspire such potent emotion.

When you first met him, you were ten, and he was fourteen. You didn’t know who Yoongi was at the time – a fact which now seems unthinkable. Raised in southern Kekon, you came to Janloon after your mother’s death with little understanding of clan politics. Likely, you would have remained so if your high jade tolerance hadn’t pushed your father to enroll you at the Academy.

Walking through the gates that first day, you found nothing but apathy. The best-case scenario was your classmates left you alone. Worst-case, the other children were brutal. You attended school with the sons and daughters of high-ranking clan members. Although your father joined No Peak as a Lantern Man eventually, he could hardly be called successful. The Academy had no patience for a rural girl whose jade tolerance far outstripped their own.

It wore on your classmates’ pride when the teachers praised you. You began to get noticed, and not in a good way. Fed up with your presence, one of the students attacked you at the end of your first year. Even then, you knew how to defend yourself and flipped him on his back. Stunned, he stared up at you before yelling to anyone within earshot that you’d regret this. His father was a powerful Lantern Man of No Peak and he said you’d be banished before graduation.

Fear gripped you, sensing the truth to his words. Based on your own experience, you knew No Peak wouldn’t believe you over one of their own.

Despair filled your thoughts as someone entered the corridor. Your attacker instantly froze, which should have clued you in this was someone important. Still, you refused to look, reticent to turn your back on an opponent.

The newcomer cleared their throat, further stoking your ire. After a moment, you dragged your attention to them.

Min Yoongi stared back, his expression mild. “So,” he said. “Who can tell me what happened?”

Looking him up and down, you chose not to respond. You didn’t trust a stranger – a fourth year at that – to intervene on your behalf. Most likely, Yoongi was a member of No Peak and had only arrived to harass you further.

Seeing your hesitance, your attacker jumped in. He accused you of treachery, saying you jumped him in the corridor and threw him on the ground. Silent, your fingers curled into fists, but you remained quiet, even when Yoongi turned.

“Well?” he asked you. “Is that right?”

Your lips dropped into a scowl. “He deserved what he got.”

Subtle, his brow flicked upward.

To your dismay, you saw people had gathered as whispers broke out. A sinking suspicion occurred to you that something was wrong. Not with your attacker, but whoever this was.

Yoongi stared at you for a long moment before, to your surprise, he chuckled. “I agree.” Turning to face the boy, a dangerous light entered his eye. “I’d suggest not telling your father what happened, Heike. Because then, I might feel honor-bound to confess what I saw. Which was his son ruthlessly attack a first year, lose and then lie about it to his future Pillar.”

Color bled swiftly from Heike’s skin. “Yes, Min-jen,” he whispered, head bowed in shame.

Panic-stricken, you stared as realization sunk in you’d been flippant to the future Pillar. Steeling yourself, you waited for Min Yoongi’s response – likely anger or worse. Based on your experience, most men in power liked this fact to be known.

Instead, Yoongi merely turned and looked you up and down. His gaze traveled you slowly, unreadable in his scrutiny. At last, he glanced up.

“Your father owns the tea shop by the docks, yes?” he said, waiting for you to nod before he continued. “He joined No Peak as a Lantern Man last year.”

“Yes, he did.”

His lips twitched. “Well, then,” Yoongi said as he turned away. “I can’t help but be grateful he chose No Peak to patron. It would’ve been shame to lose you to another clan.”

Stricken, you watched as he strode from the courtyard. Minutes passed, and eventually you realized the crowd had dispersed. Heike skulked off to nurse his wounds and the future Pillar had gone, giving them no reason to stay.

If you weren’t loyal to No Peak before, you certainly were after. Yoongi had that type of effect on people.

After that day though, you rarely interacted. Yoongi was four years your senior and the future Pillar, while you were nobody. Albeit a talented nobody who graduated at the top of their class from the Academy. At your graduation, people whispered you’d make a strong Fist. No one ever imagined you’d rise higher than that.

You joined No Peak as a Finger, starting from the bottom. Yoongi continued to remain out of reach, the newly named Pillar struggling to earn his own title. It didn’t take long though, before you rose in the ranks. You spent two years as a Finger, then two as a Fist – you were twenty-two years old when promoted to Horn. The youngest in history, and a woman to boot.

Yoongi was adamant in the choice, defending you calmly to the entire clan. He said he’d rather have the right person at a young age than the wrong person at the right age. His support was the only reason you didn’t strangle him that first year. It was the beginning of working together and as it turned out, Yoongi drove you mad.

He micromanaged, overseeing all decisions to ensure No Peak ran smoothly. You two bickered often, the fire eventually dissipating to begrudging acceptance. Ultimately, you realized you saw the world the same – No Peak first, followed by everything else.

Back then, Yoongi dated but none of them stuck. No one understood the sacrifice necessary to remain head of No Peak. Couldn’t comprehend the ruthlessness, the dedication it took to lead the clan. Yoongi could never let his guard down, could never relax with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You understood, though, because you shared this burden. Yoongi could be honest with you in a way he couldn’t be elsewhere. To the rest of the clan, he was the infallible Pillar, but to you, he was only a man.

Proof of said manhood hardens against your thigh, and Yoongi’s lips curve gamely at the base of your throat. Head lifting, his smile is sharp enough to carve the remaining bit of your heart.

“You left early this morning,” he observes, his gaze dimming. “Why?”

Your eyes trace his lips before lifting to his face. “Hian called in sick, so I replaced his watch. My Fists are spread thin, Yoongi.”

A wrinkle forms between his brows. “You should’ve woken me.”

“Why?” you tease, your hand sliding lower to rest above his hip. “To watch me go? You needed your sleep.”

“I needed you more.”

Yoongi’s words still your fingertips, struck by his honesty. Min Yoongi is nothing if not blunt, leaving you often speechless. What began as just sex, mounting frustration between friends, has become something almost too tenuous to name. The idea of having him scares you nearly as much as the prospect of losing him.

“You had me last night,” you murmur.

Yoongi’s fingers drift across your cheek. “And yet,” he says, unwilling to let you off the hook. “I woke up ravenous.”

Multiple meanings layer his words, some of which you purposefully choose not to hear. Instead, you glance past him to search the grounds. Several Green Bones cross the lawn, none of them close enough to overhear. Still, it reminds you of what’s at stake.

Exhaling gently, you pull from his touch. “I should go,” you tell him.

Head tilted, Yoongi’s dark hair conceals the jade in his brow. His brow wrinkles when he Perceives your tumultuous emotions.

“You’re worried,” he says.

“Of course, I am,” you say with a frustrated laugh. “I’m your Horn, Yoongi. It’s my job to protect the clan – to protect you – and right now, it feels like I’m failing.”

His gaze on you sharpens. “First off, I can protect myself. Second – it’s my job as Pillar to protect the clan. How can you protect us from something I can’t see?”

“How many times do I have to say you don’t shoulder that burden alone?”

The lines around his mouth deepen. “In good times, I’m lauded. It only follows that in bad times, I’m the one at fault.”

“Oh, if that’s all,” you say drily. “I, for one, have never lauded you.”

“Oh, really?” Stepping closer, his expression shifts from frustration to carnal. “I seem to recall differently last night.”

Electricity catches each place his gaze lingers, shivering its way down your spine. Refusing to let him notice, you lift your chin higher. “You’d have to remind me. It all blurs together.”

Yoongi bares his teeth, and you can’t help but smile. If there’s one thing the Pillar of No Peak can’t resist, it’s a challenge. The start of your relationship is proof enough of that.

After your promotion to Horn, you spent most waking hours by Yoongi’s side. Working with him was exhausting. Every decision turned into an argument. How many Fists you should have. How many students to admit to the Academy. Whether you should train with the Kekonese military or not.

Yoongi constantly occupied space in your thoughts, and not in a good way. He frustrated you, forcing you to second-guess and slow down your thought process. Maddeningly, he was often correct, which only served to further your irritation.

Eventually, things began to shift. Bickering turned to acceptance and finally, understanding. Yoongi trusted you more often to make the right calls and in turn, you snapped at him less for his input. Your arguments dwindled, then disappeared altogether.

Three years passed as Horn, and soon your frustration gave way to a different kind. You started to notice when Min Yoongi entered the room. At first, you brushed it off as nothing. Yoongi had an undeniable presence, this was true. Soon though, you realized your thoughts breached the border of friendship.

His absence could be felt like a phantom limb. Yoongi’s jade aura comforted you despite its fierceness – so at odds with the calm way he carried himself.

Idly, you wondered what it would take for him to snap. To release his infamous self-control and fully give in. Thoughts of what Yoongi would feel like left your body scorched. On more than one occasion, you awoke with an ache between your legs and a dream of his face slipping away.

Such thoughts though, were dangerous. Yoongi was the Pillar, and you were his Horn – a relationship couldn’t happen and what’s more, he’d shown no interest. You began to withdraw out of self-preservation. Prior, you sparred with Yoongi every morning but soon found yourself making excuses to skip.

What was once daily practice turned into every week and then, once a month. Yoongi was a distraction you could ill-afford, disarming you with his laughter as easily as his sword.

Instead, you forced your attention on training your Fists. Firstday through Fifthday, you met Asha and Jungkook at the gym before dawn. This went on for months, training in secret until one day you exited and saw Yoongi’s car at the curb. Stomach sinking, you watched as he reversed and sped down the street.

Perceiving tumultuous emotion, you knew confrontation was inevitable but hoped Yoongi would give you time to process.

He did not.

Instead, Yoongi pounded on your door the very next morning. When you finally answered, he tossed a practice sword your way and demanded you dress.

Shaking free of your stupor, you glared at Yoongi a moment before slamming the door. Stalking inside, you threw gear in a bag and returned to the hall. Stomping past him, you refused to acknowledge Yoongi, throwing open the door to his Duchesse Priza.

Yoongi sped to his place in silence, tension churning between you like water beneath a ferry. At his gym, you stormed out and ripped the sword from its sheath. Yoongi followed closely behind, barely leashed emotion rolling off him in waves.

You flew at him first, your body Light, and then Strong while swinging towards his head. Moving through the various jade disciplines, you relied on training hammered into your bones. Yoongi caught a blow on his forearm, Steeling his skin to avoid any damage. The two of you entered a familiar rhythm, understanding the other in ways no one else could.

It must’ve been hours before you threw down your sword and declared the match ended. Yoongi simply stared, his chest heaving with a wild spark in his eyes.

You were turning to leave when he dropped his blade, strode across the clearing and crushed your mouth to his.

Five months have passed since. Your relationship has been kept a secret, with you unwilling to place any labels. People would talk if the Horn and Pillar were dating. You don’t want that for yourself. Not when you’ve worked so hard for credibility.

Pressing his thumb to your lower lip, Yoongi drags it lower before he releases. “I’ll have to remind you, then,” he says before stepping away. The heat dissipates from his gaze, leaving you cold. “But you’re right. I should go.”

Somewhat dazed, you feel yourself nod. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. This is exactly what you asked for, so you have no right to feel abandoned.

“Send me the list Namjoon makes,” you say, forcing lightness to your tone. “I’ll send Green Bones to watch their houses.”

Yoongi opens his mouth, then seems to think better of it and merely nods. He stays silent when you leave, brushing past him to the hall. Outside, you pause on the landing before you continue.

His jade aura fades as you exit, letting you know he remains. You do your best to ignore him, flipping your keys as you stride towards your car – not as nice as Yoongi’s, but serviceable nonetheless. Yanking open the door, you slide onto the sticky-warm gray leather seat.

Exhaling, you stare at the wheel before shifting to drive. Lowering the windows, you allow a slight breeze to drift over your face. As much as you pretend to be happy with the current situation, you’re not. You aren’t stupid – you know your feelings for Yoongi extend beyond those of a Horn to their Pillar.

When you first became Horn, you respected Yoongi. He was a good leader – still is – and you were proud to be the person strengthening No Peak by his side. Now, he’s the closest thing you have to family. Deep down, you understand his pardon of Yejun. If you were in a similar situation, there’s nothing Yoongi could do that you wouldn’t forgive.

Especially now, with your father dead. It happened soon after graduation, a sudden collapse of his heart no one saw coming. Yoongi attended his funeral. It was held on a rain soaked Seventhday after the Autumn Festival. Late in the season for a deluge but fitting for the occasion. It felt like the world was wiped clean, along with your prior life.

For the Pillar to attend was unusual, but not unprecedented. You recall him standing near the back, his Pillarman, Hoseok, at his side. The funeral was short – your father wasn’t garrulous by any means – but rain soaked your dress by the time it had ended. It surprised you when Yoongi came to express his sorrow, even more so when he seemed to mean it. Most people didn’t. Most people came for the spectacle, or to say they were there.

Yoongi though, gripped your hand tightly while meeting your gaze. His calluses were as rough as your own when he said the clan would support you. Oddly enough, you believed him.

With both parents dead, and no siblings, No Peak is the only family you have. Yoongi’s life is similar to yours, apart from Yejun. His father died of cancer when he was twenty-one and his mother soon followed, unable to cope. Yoongi knows what loss means, what it feels like to be alone.

Lips tightening, you imagine what it’d feel like to lose him. Worse than a Horn should feel when they lose a Pillar. Silent, you curse yourself for having poor foresight. There’s a reason the Horn and Pillar don’t date. A reason why such a relationship would be forbidden. It’s your job to protect the clan – not just Yoongi – but if it came down to it, you’d choose him every time.

Weaving through the bustling streets of Janloon, your speed is forced to slow. Janloon, the capital city of Kekon, is full of contractions. The latest car models pass beneath flashing billboards, coupled with street stalls and sprawling temples. Scents of the city mingle with stale AC from your car.

No matter how much time passes, Kekon stubbornly clings to its roots. Portions of the outside world may infiltrate, but they’ll never replace. This is something Green Bones and the clans understand.

Traffic forces you to park a block away from your destination. Striding towards the Twice Lucky, you nod at a few Lantern Men idling outside. Asha and Jungkook wait for you in a private room, lounging in seats around the square table. The second floor of the Twice Lucky has been reserved for Green Bones; a privilege No Peak ensures is well-compensated.

Jungkook sits in his usual spot, arms crossed and feet up. Asha is restless, fingertips drumming against the hilt of her blade. Food and water are laid out, half-eaten as though there were others here before.

Sensing your presence, your first Fist looks up. “Y/N-jen.” Asha straightens. “Any news?”

Crossing the room, you scan the building but Perceive no other Green Bones. Sinking into a chair, you pull a plate closer and pick up red chopsticks.

Jungkook turns towards you. “What’d you discuss with the Pillar? Seemed important.”

Asha gives him a warning look, to which he only shrugs.

Ignoring them both, you stab a dumpling. “We suspect the killings were done by a Green Bone. Do you remember Toh Marosun?”

Asha’s head whips in your direction. Jungkook was at the Academy during Maro’s betrayal, but Asha was there and remembers how it went down. If Maro has returned, it’s only a matter of time before things get worse.

“Of course, we remember.” Her eyes narrow. “So, it’s really him? Maro came back?”

“Maybe.” You hesitate another moment, then finish the dumpling. “It’s only a guess.”

“A pretty good guess, if you’re telling us,” Jungkook muses. “Why come back now, though? Returning to Kekon is a death sentence.”

“Is it?” Asha fights a smirk. “Everyone knew Yejun had a thing for Maro.”

Casual, you retrieve a talon knife from its sheath. You begin cleaning the blade, the weapon a natural extension of your wrist, and feel Asha and Jungkook’s gazes follow.

“I don’t think that’s relevant, do you?” you say calmly. “Not unless you’re questioning the Pillar’s judgement.”

Asha looks away, miffed. “No, jen,” she mutters. “Of course, not.”

“Good.” You pause, allowing your fury to seep into your aura. “The Pillar deserves nothing less than your respect. Which means Jungkook is right – coming back here is a death sentence, begging the question of why.”

Jungkook considers. “Maybe he left something.”

Asha turns back, the moment of tension forgotten. “He could be after his jade,” she offers. “Maro was always thin-blooded, so if it’s jade he wants, this could get bad. He could come down with the Itches.”

Sheathing your knife, you look up. “I agree. Maro might not be in his right mind.”

“What should we do?” 

“Nothing for now,” you tell her. “Namjoon is compiling a list of people Maro knew. If he hasn’t found what he’s after by now, he could strike again.”

Asha nods and accepts this. Pushing aside a twinge of regret, you wish you could explain the rest. If Yoongi is a target though, it’s best to keep that fact quiet. And as much as you’d like to blame the Luckbringers, you have no way of knowing who’s helping Maro – either by will or by force.

A phone rings on the lower level, barely audible over the din. The Twice Lucky restaurant doesn’t have the best food in Janloon, but the quality is good, and its owner is loyal. The same can’t be said for other places.

Footsteps pound on the staircase, and Jungkook springs to his feet. Before you can warn him, the door opens and Mr. Une, the proprietor, freezes in place.

“Put that away,” you demand, waving for Jungkook to lower his knife.

Eyes wide, Mr. Une stares while your Second Fist sheaths his weapon. Seating himself at the table, Jungkook kicks both feet up like nothing has happened. The third-highest amount of jade in the clan lies coiled about his neck, polished stones resting against his tan skin.

Mr. Une continues to stare, wary until you pointedly clear your throat. “Uncle,” you say, adopting the deferential. “What can we do for you?”

Somewhat placated, Mr. Une turns his head. “Phone call for you, Horn-jen. The Weather Man said it’s urgent. You can use the phone in my office if you’d like.”

Smile disappearing, you stand. “Lead the way.”

Mr. Une blinks, and you realize you’ve crossed the room in less time than it took Jungkook to draw his knife. Inwardly, you sigh and attempt to appear harmless. The citizens of Janloon are used to living with Green Bones but sometimes, your power is a reminder of what they are not. Of the inherent danger of living amongst latent gods.

Following Mr. Une, you head towards his office. Asha and Jungkook walk close behind, with Jungkook at the rear and Asha by your side. Mr. Une hovers awkwardly at the door before turning around and pushing into the kitchen.

Once he’s gone, you lift the phone. “Hello?” you say.

Namjoon’s voice barks in your ear. “Get back to the Min property. Now.”

Your stomach drops. “What happened?”

“Maro struck again,” he says tightly. “It’s definitely Maro – and the victim is still alive.”

“Who is it?” you ask, expecting the worst.

“Jio Reubin. He managed to escape and made it here, but he’s injured. This is our best chance to get information.”

“On my way,” you say, and hang up.

Taking a deep breath, you allow the reality of Namjoon’s words to wash over you. Jio is hurt, meaning you need to interrogate soon in case he dies. Nausea curdles your stomach, and you try to dispel it.

Guilt wars with relief from knowing Yoongi is safe. You’ve met Jio several times, having attended the Academy with his now-wife, Lula. She never took to the bloodier side of the clan, deciding to enter the medical profession instead. If you remember correctly, she’s in the same resident program as Yejun.

Leaving the office, you nod for Jungkook to follow. He falls into step beside you. “I need you to do something for me,” you say to Asha. “Head to Jio Reubin’s and search the area for Maro. Call me if you find anything.”

She nods and turns, disappearing out the side door.

You and Jungkook exit the front, squinting when you emerge in the golden hour. “Follow me to the Min property,” you say grimly.

Jungkook nods as he turns, aura pulsing with adrenaline while growing fainter. You should warn him to be cautious but know it’d be hypocritical. Your own car’s speed is nearly twice the limit as you rush through the streets of Janloon, returning to the gates of the Min property.

Screeching to a halt, you yank keys from the ignition and sprint across the courtyard. Namjoon’s aura pulses from the main house, so you follow the trail and shove open the door.

Namjoon doesn’t look up when you enter, and you immediately see why. Jio lies splayed on the sofa, right arm dangling listlessly from a red cushion. At first, you think that’s the color before you notice the blood darkening Jio’s chest.

Kneeling at his side, Namjoon’s jaw clenches while attempting to Channel. Usually, Channeling is used to rend the body apart but in certain circumstances, it can be used to hold it together. Namjoon doesn’t wear much jade though and wasn’t trained as a healer.

“Allow me,” Jungkook says from behind you.

Dropping to his knees, he replaces Namjoon to clasp Jio’s hand in his. Closing his eyes, a thick vein pulses in the side of his neck. Despite Jungkook’s wish to enter the bloodier side of the clan, he would’ve made an excellent healer. His ability to Channel is better than anyone else in No Peak.

Jio’s aura, previously guttering, gradually smooths. Namjoon sits back on his heels, clearly spent from the effort. Wiping sweat from his brow, he turns to see you.

“Close the door,” he says faintly.

Reaching out, you obey and cross to stand by his side. Staring at Jio, you take in his bloodied state. Whoever tortured him was thorough, cutting just deep enough to let him slowly bleed out.

It’s a miracle Jio escaped, no matter how slowly his chest rises and falls. When you cross your arms, he coughs and cracks open one eye. Dazedly, Jio registers your presence.

“Horn-jen,” he rasps.

Briskly, you nod. “You’re going to be fine, Jio.”

Straining Perception, you sweep the ground for Yoongi but find him far away. Good. The further he is from this carnage, the better.

Glancing back, you seek Namjoon. “What happened?”

“Maro was waiting when Jio got home from his night shift. His wife had already left for the hospital. Maro knocked out Jio, tied him up and when he came to, started torturing him for intel. Jio managed to escape but hasn’t said how. Couple of Fingers found him in the Temple District.”

Your gaze moves to Jio. “Maro escaped?”

“Yeah,” he responds.

Stomach tight, you consider the options. Either Maro is still searching for whatever he’s after, or he found out from Jio and –

From across the property comes a surge of fury. No one else seems to notice, but that doesn’t surprise you. You’re more attuned to Yoongi’s aura than anyone present. Keeping your expression neutral, you know you don’t have much time until Yoongi arrives.

“What did he want to know?” you demand. “Did he –”

The door to the room flies open and hits the wall. The Pillar strides in, adjusting his cuffs as he goes. Yoongi’s dark hair is slicked, clothing immaculate as always. Heat curls in your lower belly, and you do your best to stamp it out.

His gaze flicks towards you, sensing your need before his expression shutters. Facing forward, Yoongi surveys the scene.

“What happened?” he asks, low and deadly.

His Pillarman steps inside and shuts the door. Hoseok leans to the wall, jacket falling open to reveal the handle of his Sig Sauer. It’s odd for a Green Bone to carry a gun but Hoseok’s job is to protect Yoongi from all threats. Although Green Bone warriors render bullets obsolete through Steeling, there are other threats best deterred by firepower.

On the couch, Jio coughs and attempts to sit up. Grunting, Jungkook grabs his shoulder and forces him down.

“Don’t be an idiot,” you say to Jio. “The doctor is coming, but if you die before they get here, you’ll be no help to anyone.”

“Are you sure it was Maro?” Yoongi asks, tension radiating from every line in his body. Even if you couldn’t Perceive him, you’d know.

Weakly, Jio nods. “It was Maro. Looks different now – leaner and wearing new jade. Scabs up and down his arms. But yeah, it was him.”

You and Namjoon exchange a look. Arm scabs could be a sign of the Itches, an illness caused by jade overexposure. Jade overexposure can happen gradually, or it could be caused by a single instance. For example, if someone were to go without jade for years and then put a lot on.

Green Bones are taught the symptoms from a young age. Severe mood swings, sensory distortion – shaking, sweating, anxiety, paranoia, and heart palpitations. When left untreated, the Itches can lead to madness and eventually, death. Better soldiers than Maro have succumbed to it, the lure of more jade greater than self-control.

The possibility flashes before you – Maro, unable to stomach being cut off from Kekon. He seeks out new jade, expecting to stomach as much as he used to. Instead, Maro breaks, paranoia and fear dragging him under. He starts to blame others, including the clan who took everything from him. A man in such a state might consider revenge his only option.

The hypothesis fits, though it means nothing good for No Peak.

“What did he say?” Yoongi asks. “Tell us, word for word.”

“He…” Jio breaks into a coughing fit. “Knocked me out. When I woke up, I was tied to my kitchen chair. I asked Maro what the fuck he was doing.”

“And?” Namjoon prods. “What did he say?”

“Said he’d been gone for too long. That it was all a mistake – leaving, taking off his jade.”

“Is that why he came back?” you press.

Jio’s head lolls. “He asked who betrayed him. Said he only told a few people about the smuggling, so one of them must’ve done it. I didn’t know,” he rasps, shaking his head. “I wasn’t one of the people Maro told. He didn’t seem to remember – or care.”

Paranoia. Another unmistakable sign of the Itches.

“What else?” Namjoon asks. “How did you escape?”

“I don’t know.” Jio frowns, blood trickling from a cut above his eye. “Maro seemed confused. He kept asking who betrayed him, and then mentioning treasure? He wanted to know where his treasure was. I don’t even know what he meant,” he admits, glancing between you and Namjoon. “His jade? I dunno.”

“It could be,” you say slowly.

“He’d ask about his treasure one minute, then accuse it of betraying him,” Jio says. “He said he went where his treasure was, but it wasn’t there. Or they weren’t there? He kept mixing up tenses. Wasn’t sure he knew where he was, half the time.”

Off to the side, you feel a sudden surge of emotion – there and gone before you can dissect. Startled, you glance in the direction of Yoongi but find him unharmed. Eyes narrowed, you watch a moment longer before you turn back.

“If Maro wants his old jade, maybe he meant his apartment. He could have gone there to search first,” Namjoon offers.

“A waste,” you say with a frown. “Maro forfeited his jade to the clan before leaving.”

Forfeited to the Pillar, more accurately. You glance once more at Yoongi, who doesn’t react. He continues to examine Jio, a slight wrinkle between his brows.

“All roads lead to me, it would seem. How did you escape, Jio?” Yoongi adds, casually changing the subject.

“Didn’t, really.” Jio coughs, the sound wet. “Managed to get an arm free, lunged for Maro and fell on the floor. Maro… didn’t really notice. He swore something fierce, stabbed my fridge with his knife and ran off.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “He stabbed your… fridge?”

“Yeah.”

“That makes no sense.”

“If he has the Itches, it doesn’t have to,” Namjoon murmurs.

“True,” you say.

This feels important though, in a way you can’t pinpoint. Maro didn’t have any trouble killing before – the only reason he’d leave was if he found what he wanted. Frustration gnaws at your thoughts, certain you’re missing something.

Outside, you hear someone enter the driveway. Gravel skitters beneath tires, the car coming to a stop as someone exits.

“That must be the doctor.” Yoongi turns around, seemingly lost in thought. “I’ll go let them in.”

Pulling open the door, he exits with Hoseok. You watch them leave, returning your attention to Jio.

Looking weary, Jungkook sits back on his heels. “I’ve done what I can,” he says. “Stopped most of the internal bleeding. He should live.”

The door behind you opens. “I’ll be the judge of that,” says an unfamiliar woman, striding in. Setting down a black bag, she looks around. “Anyone without medical training should leave. Now.”

Brows raised, you obey and take your leave. In the hallway, Jungkook mutters something about readying the car and disappears. You remain in the house, pacing and waiting for Yoongi’s return.

Namjoon’s eyes follow your tread. “What are you thinking?”

Shaking your head, you stop to examine a portrait of Yoongi’s father. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Something about this feels off. Why would Maro leave so abruptly?”

“He wouldn’t,” Namjoon muses. “Not unless he found what he was looking for.”

“Maybe Jio is lying. Maybe he told Maro it was Yoongi who betrayed him. If that’s so though, why wouldn’t Maro come directly here?”

“Here?” Namjoon scoffs. “It’d be suicide to attack the Pillar in his own compound. No way – Maro is smarter. If I were him, I’d set a trap. Draw the Pillar out.”

A terrible suspicion dawns as you freeze, mid-stride. This is the moment the landline rings and, crossing the hallway, you yank down the phone.

“Hello?” you answer.

Asha’s voice fills your ears. “Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” you say, turning around. “What’s wrong?”

“I have… well, I don’t know what I have.”

“What do you mean?” you press. “What’s wrong?”

Noticing your expression, Namjoon frowns and pushes himself from the wall.

“I went to Jio’s like you asked. There was no sign of Maro, so I went back to the house and… it’s strange. Maro tied Jio up in his kitchen, and there are signs of a struggle, but…”

“But what, Asha?”

She pauses. “Did Jio tell you what happened?”

“Yeah.” Your gaze flicks to Namjoon, who listens to every word. “He said Maro swore, stabbed a fridge and ran off.”

“Oh. Okay.” Asha exhales. “I was worried you’d think I’m crazy. The thing is, Maro didn’t just stab a fridge – he stabbed a photo. A person, to be exact.”

“… Who was the person he stabbed?”

Namjoon goes still, and your grip on the phone tightens. Pieces of the puzzle slide into place, leaving a picture which turns your stomach. Dread fills you, knowing what Asha will say before she says it.

“Yejun,” she says, and a loud ringing fills your ears. “She works at the same hospital as Jio’s wife, and there’s a photo of them at some ceremony. The knife… it’s straight through Yejun’s head.”

Heart pounding, you close your eyes and frantically sweep the grounds. Deep down though, you already know what you’ll find.

Yoongi is gone.

Fury boiling over, you realize this was the epiphany Yoongi had earlier. It must have something to do with the word treasure – likely a nickname between Yejun and Maro. Maro was looking for Yejun, not his jade or revenge. Or maybe it is revenge – stomach sinking, you realize what this must seem like. Maro told Yejun about his operation and soon after, Yoongi found out.

Maro wants Yejun, which is something you should’ve seen from the beginning. Yoongi realized before you and now, he’s run off to play hero.

“Stay here,” you say, turning to Namjoon. Feverish anger burns your blood. “Get Jio to the hospital once he’s stable. Thanks, Asha,” you say before hanging up.

Namjoon’s eyes narrow. “Yoongi went after Yejun, didn’t he?”

“Maybe,” you say, pushing past. “If he did, I’ll find him.”

You don’t remember reaching your car, only that once you do, you drive faster than you ever have through Janloon. The hospital is a logical starting point since that’s what Maro saw from the photo.

Shutting down your thoughts, you continue to weave through traffic. Thinking begets worry, which can lead to mistakes. Tightening your grip, you push the car faster. Roaring down the next street, you recall Yejun is working early shifts this week. She mentioned it the other day, saying how glad she was to be home in time for dinner.

Glancing at the clock, your jaw tightens. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a sharp turn, car skidding a little on the next street. If Yejun is already home, better to first check that she’s safe.

Yoongi’s sister lives near the hospital, an allowance granted with the understanding that your men keep tabs. While it’s unlikely Maro knows her home address, he could have followed her there from the hospital.

Parking swiftly, you leap from the car and sprint inside. Someone on the street protests, all bravado disappearing when they notice your jade. You skid to a stop in the lobby, zeroing in on the doorman.

“Floor ten,” you say flatly.

Open-mouthed, the man stares. When you start to move forward, he snaps to attention. “Elevator is out,” he blurts. “You’ll have to take the stairs, like the rest.”

The rest.

Teeth gritted, you pivot and take the steps three at a time. The climb upward is steep, and you use a burst of Strength to reach the top. Shoving open the door to floor ten, you come to a sudden halt.

Chaos greets you.

The hall before you is narrow, barely two meters in width. Yoongi and Maro face each other midway, moon blades drawn and locked in combat. Lunging, Maro’s blade slices Yoongi’s shoulder and blood splatters the floor. Hissing, Yoongi doubles his Strength to kick Maro in the chest, sending him flying.

Maro slams into a window, glass raining around him. Rolling Light, Maro jumps to face Yoongi, unscathed. Stomach sinking, you notice the amount of jade Maro carries. More than he ever had while part of the clan. Clearly, Maro is past the point of caring about things like the Itches.

His aura feels wrong where it touches yours, jagged and pulsing. Leaping and whirling with unknown motive, withdrawing to expand in nonsensical patterns.

Face contorted, Maro unleashes a series of blows which nearly has Yoongi buckling. Clearly, Maro has continued training in exile. He looks similar and yet different – his hair longer, beard unkempt to hide the scar on his cheek. His body is lean, that of a wild wolf after winter who fights more desperately because of it.

Steeling himself, you feel Yoongi pull his aura inward, readying for the next blow. Maro slips beneath Yoongi’s blade and slashes – and Yoongi releases, Channeling his energy outward in a deadly wave. The invisible strike hits Maro dead-on, making him stumble.

Gaze bright, Maro’s head whips upward. Sensing murderous intent, a growl slips from your throat as you rush in. Swifter than breath, you wrench knives from your belt, thrusting them upward to catch Maro’s blade.

He shudders to a halt, teeth bared in your face.

Yoongi skids to a stop beside you, disbelief warring with his panic.

“GO!” you yell, glancing at Yejun’s door. “Now!”

Yoongi hesitates before nodding, lowering his sword to dart inside. Maro seethes when he escapes, shoving with all his weight to send you backwards. Dropping into a crouch, you brace yourself with one hand and kick outward. Maro leaps to avoid the blow, landing Light with a fierce glint in his eye.

Bright studs of jade – some red and oozing – dot his chest, clearly done in haste. Maro doesn’t seem to feel pain as he walks towards you.

 “You?” he taunts, half-laughing. “You’d barely graduated when I was chosen for Horn. Must be nice,” he muses. “A reward for fucking the boss.”

Biting your lower lip, you hold back your retort. When you do this, Maro smiles, lips pulled from his teeth.

Before he can speak, you lunge forward and Channel. Energy jabs Maro’s chest – enough to stun, but not kill. Grunting, Maro’s smile disappears as he Deflects. Bringing his sword down overhead, he leaves no room to dodge. Swiftly, you Steel and hope for the best.

Maro’s blade slams against skin, though he fails to draw blood. Springing forward, you strike hard enough to rend his shirt’s fabric. Pulling back, Maro seethes.

Your next series of blows are fueled by Strength, fast enough to elude normal vision. You rely on muscle memory and Perception, countering each of Maro’s strokes with your own. He’s not as fast as you are, but his additional jade gives him an edge.

His next Channel is clumsy but strong, enough to leave you winded and miss his next blow. You don’t Steel in time, his blade catching your jacket to cut your torso. Hissing, you stumble and press a hand to the wound.

The cut feels shallow but stings, nonetheless. Fury building, you hone your Perception to a narrow cone. Maro’s aura ebbs and flows, erratically bursting as he walks towards you.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering to fight,” he says, adjusting his grip on his sword. “If anything, you should join me, Y/N – I’m your future.”

Refusing to let him continue, you rush forward and exchange a flurry of blows that end in a stalemate.

Panting, Maro withdraws. “You have to understand I loved her,” he hisses. “I loved her, and she betrayed me. She deserves to die.”

“Who did?” you ask, although you already know.

Behind Maro, you see Yoongi rush from Yejun’s apartment. He holds her, unconscious, Yejun’s aura silent without jade ability. Fervent, you wish you could gauge her vitality. As it is, all you can do is buy them time to get help.

Sinking into a crouch, you draw Maro’s gaze. 

“Yejun?” you prod.

“Yes,” Maro breathes, his gaze bright. “I trusted her, and she turned me in. Do you know what I thought about every day while in Shotar? Her. Do you know what she thought about? The clan,” he spits. “He’ll betray you, too, in the end – you’ll see. Killing them both now would be a mercy.”

“Yejun didn’t betray you,” you say to buy time. “She wasn’t the one who told Yoongi – he found out on his own.”

Maro blinks, his surprise evident for a moment before vanishing under fury. “That’s just as bad,” he snaps, his voice rising. “Yoongi and I were like brothers. Under aisho, doesn’t family come first?”

“Even family is bound by honor,” you say grimly. “Should I ever be disloyal to my brother, may I die by the blade,” you add, reciting the Green Bone oaths. “I won’t join you, Toh Marosun. Take me by force if you must.”

His nostrils flare but before he can act, you rush in. Dimly, you register Yoongi’s retreating aura and hope he’s managed to escape the building. Lightness and Strength blur as you move, Maro’s Deflection flung hastily forward.

You keep your blows unpredictable, swift enough that Maro struggles. Rage cloaks your intention as you whirl and slice in erratic patterns. Sweat beads on Maro’s forehead, Steeling wrongly for your knives to draw blood.

Sensing victory, you push harder. Gathering his energy inward, Maro lashes out suddenly in a Channel you barely Deflect. Energy rips through you, searing your bones in a silent attack. Wincing, you leap back and Channel a blow. Maro stumbles, barely shielding and you recognize a flaw.

There are few Green Bones in Shotar, which must make it difficult for him to practice Deflection. Pressing the advantage, you move forward in a quick flurry of blows. Although Maro’s sword is larger, your knives gain the advantage in the small space. He can’t move when you duck underneath, stabbing upward to pierce his soft underarm.

Howling, Maro whirls and swings at you rashly. Leaning backwards, you Steel and catch the blow on your forearm. Vibrations clang through you, rattling the teeth in your skull. The two of you lock together, Maro’s energy clashing with yours. When he doubles his Strength, you feel your Steel buckle.

Lips split in a grin, Maro keeps his sword steady. Further increasing his Strength, he’s focused on winning he doesn’t notice the shift in your aura.

Dropping your Steel, you draw everything inward and let his sword slice your arm. Maro’s laugh is manic – until you Channel outward. The last of your energy shatters his Deflection, piercing inner organs with deadly precision. You feel the moment Maro’s heart stops, his arteries rupturing from the inside out.

Forgoing any mercy, your knife slashes his throat in a clean line.

Blood mists from the wound, coating the wall behind you in red. With a gurgled gasp, Maro lifts a hand – only to go limp and fall, face-first on the floor.

Silence descends, broken only by your ragged breathing. Not far off, sirens wail, and you sense Green Bone auras closing in on the building. Eyes closed, you force yourself to breathe in and out.

No matter how often you do it, killing another person never gets easier. Even when necessary. Even when said person threatens your life and others. You fortify yourself with the knowledge that Yoongi is safe, and Yejun will live – she has to.

The cost to your soul is too high for anything else.

“Is he dead?” asks someone behind you.

Swiftly, you turn as you open your eyes. You were so focused inward, you failed to notice Yoongi’s aura approach. The Pillar’s gaze snags, stopping on the man before you.

“Yes,” you say, bending to clean your knives. Heart hammering, you wonder what Yoongi feels at seeing his former friend dead. Wonder if he’ll blame you, as Maro said.

Setting your jaw, you sheath both your knives before standing. Immediately, you see you needn’t have worried. Yoongi isn’t looking at Maro, but at you. A lone muscle tics in his jaw, observing the crimson blood staining your clothes.

“The police are on their way. They’ll clean up the scene. You’re hurt,” Yoongi adds, his voice thick.

You glance down at your arm. “It’s nothing.”

Bending again, you begin to gather Maro’s jade. You’ll be expected to wear it the next time you’re in public, but right now, the touch of it is nearly overwhelming. Minor wounds and injuries pulse with each movement, already healing from your current jade.

“I’ll take it.” Yoongi suddenly is beside you, right hand extended. “Let me help.”

Relinquishing some of the jade piercings, you slide the rest in your pockets and push yourself to stand. Turning to face him, you stride down the hall. A roiling ball of emotion settles deep in your gut.

Worry about Yejun. Fury at Yoongi’s lies. Relief, that he’s here and unharmed.

Entering the stairwell, the door hits the wall with a satisfying thud. Yoongi follows closely, wisely choosing to remain silent. Two stories lower, you find the words to speak.

“Is Yejun okay?” you ask.

You feel Yoongi’s gaze on the back of your neck. “She’ll live,” he says, sounding weary. “I left her at the hospital with Namjoon and Jiro. She has a concussion. Maro got here a few minutes before I did and had already roughed her up.”

Something about this snaps the hold on your fragile self-control. Picturing what might have happened had you arrived a few seconds later, you whirl around and grasp Yoongi by his suit jacket.

“Never,” you blurt, yanking him closer. “Never do that to me again.”

Gaze burning, you stare him down and Yoongi watches warily. He doesn’t move an inch, allowing you to manhandle him. “I know that you’re angry,” he says carefully.

With a harsh laugh, you release him. “Of course, I am! You shouldn’t have come here alone.”

“I know that.”

“Well?” you demand after a long moment passes. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

Yoongi lifts a brow. “I’d do it again.”

You stare at him, aghast. “Well, then.” You pause. Shake your head. “If that’s all you have to say, I think this night is over.”

Wiping your palms on your pants, you turn away. You only make it one flight before Yoongi’s hand finds your elbow.

Spinning you towards him, Yoongi pulls you closer. You manage to avoid eye contact until his fingers slip beneath your chin, making you face him.

“I know you want me to apologize, but I won’t,” he says lowly. “I refuse to apologize for trying to keep you from danger.”

Most people would swoon, hearing this from their lover but you aren’t most people. You’re the Horn of No Peak, sworn to protect the clan – and Yoongi – from any threats.

Your gaze narrows on his. “That’s a problem, then. I’m your Horn, Yoongi. It’s my duty to protect No Peak – to protect you. The Pillar is the spine of this clan and, once severed, No Peak can’t survive. It can survive without me, though.”

Yoongi’s nostrils flare. “And what about me?” he asks. “If you don’t survive, how do you expect me to continue?”

You go still. “Yoongi… I…”

“And for that matter,” he adds, his hand on your chin sliding to the back of your neck. “If you’re so intent on following the rules, who are you to give me orders? I’ll fight to protect the clan if I want to, Y/N.”

Fury expands from the spark in your chest. “You didn’t make me your Horn to follow you blindly,” you seethe.

“No.” His gaze softens. “I did not.”

You stare at each other for a long moment, each passing second draining some of your fire. You’re left with smoke on your tongue, a heaviness in your heart and the ever-growing certainty the time for rule-following has passed.

“You… can’t think like that,” you say eventually.

Yoongi’s brow sketches upward. “Like what?”

“Like I’m worth more than the clan. More than you, as it’s Pillar. That’s dangerous precedent.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do,” you say, frustrated by his nonchalance. “The clan is my blood, and the Pillar is its master,” you add, reciting your oaths again. “You are the Pillar. Your life is that of the clan.”

Yoongi’s lips twist with displeasure. “It seems we’re at an impasse, since I refuse to place my life before yours.”

“Yoongi,” you snap, exasperated. “You can’t just… just –”

“Just what?” His eyes blaze. “Love you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice breaking.

Something in his face gentles. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

Perceiving this truth, the last bit of fight drains from your body. Sensing it, Yoongi draws you closer and pulls you against him. Eyes shutting, you lean into his chest. Yoongi’s aura swallows you whole, an oasis of calm against the onslaught of night.

His breath warms your ear. “It was my problem to fix,” Yoongi murmurs, sounding reticent. “She… Yejun didn’t betray Maro, but she was going to – that’s how I found out. She was writing a letter to me on her kitchen table. I walked in and saw it.”

Lifting your head, you regard him. “You don’t have to explain to me why you spared your sister. I understand.”

“Thank you. You should know, though,” he adds, his voice fierce, “I will do anything to keep those I love from harm.”

You can’t help but smile, though it quickly fades. “I know you would, Yoongi. That’s a burden you can’t carry alone, though. It makes you weaker, not stronger.”

“This was my fault, though,” he says. “Not yours – nor anyone else from the clan. It was my decision to let Maro go free.”

“You aren’t responsible for Maro’s actions. And it’s not weakness to show mercy.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s not,” you press on. “Who’s to say what the right choice was? If you’d killed Maro back then, maybe something worse would’ve happened. Yejun might not have forgiven you. It’s impossible to rewrite the past, and you’ll go mad if you try.”

Yoongi looks away, unconvinced. “What type of Pillar does that make me, though?”

“One who hesitates before killing their friends.”

“One who balks at making tough decisions.”

“Min Yoongi.” Steel layers your voice and you reach up, turning his face to yours. “I would never swear oaths to someone who killed without question. Who made decisions in anger, then regretted them later. You question me when you question yourself.”

His gaze roams your face. “And what if others betray me?” Yoongi murmurs, voice lower. “Would you continue to support me if I was forced to kill Asha? Or Jungkook?”

“I’d trust you did what had to be done.”

“And what if I become corrupt?” he murmurs, his gaze flicking lower. “What if I’m the one being selfish, betraying the clan?”

“Well, that’s easy.” Reaching lower, you wrap a hand around the hilt of his blade. “I’ll kill you myself.”

Not looking away, Yoongi’s hand covers yours. “You could try,” he murmurs, some of his tension dissipated.

“Oh, I think I’d succeed.”

Releasing your hand, Yoongi finds your knee and hitches your leg against him. “If it came to that,” he murmurs, nose skimming your throat, “I’d let you.”

Inhaling softly, you close your eyes. “Promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

Perceiving the truth to his words, you open your eyes. Yoongi stares back, letting you see the starkness in his gaze. It’s no small thing for the most powerful man in Kekon to promise you anything.

Similarly, it’s no small thing to admit he holds your heart in both hands. Which is why you need to say what you do next. Without Yoongi’s next promise, this can’t go any further.

“Don’t make these decisions without me,” you whisper. “Let me decide for myself when a job is too dangerous.”

Yoongi’s lips flatten. “You give me an impossible choice, since nothing is too dangerous for my lovely Horn.”

“Trust that I love you, then,” you say, your hand trembling as you rise to cup his face. “And that I’ll do what it takes to come back.”

Yoongi goes still at your declaration. His pupils dilate so far, they seem to swallow the light. Four years, you’ve spent fighting together. Five months of knowing him this way, and never have you uttered those words to his face.

The transformation is quick, his expression shifting to desire in barely a breath. Bending, Yoongi drags your mouth to his. “Say it again,” he growls against your lips. “Tell me you love me.”

“You’ll become greedy,” you say, breathless.

“I’m the Pillar of No Peak.” He gives a half-laugh. “I will always want more.”

“Then, take it.”

Opening your mouth, Yoongi walks you backwards until your spine hits the wall. You lose yourself in his touch, his taste, the fatal heat of his body. Fingers tangling in hair, you’re rewarded by the basest of groans from his lips. Yoongi’s hands find your body, grasping and searching to pull you against him.

Far below, the faint pulse of jade auras brush yours. “Yoongi,” you moan, nipping his lower lip. “We should go.”

Pulling away, his thumbs indent your hips. “Go where?”

“Your place. My place. I don’t care.”

“I do,” he says with a grin. “Want to wake up with you in my bed.”

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re so needy.”

“I am.” His lips curve. “I need many things, Y/N. You in my bed. Eventually, in my house. Your vows exchanged for mine. But first” – his brow lifts – “I need to fuck you. Need to bury myself inside you.”

Lips parting, you attempt to digest this information. Everything Min Yoongi has laid on the line. The last sentence catches your attention though, heat curling in your belly and replacing all sentient thought. The rest can come later – first, you need him inside you.

“Let’s go,” you declare, pushing yourself from the wall.

He chuckles, low in his throat as he follows your lead. Halfway down, Yoongi’s arm finds your waist to pull you against him. His teeth scrape the skin beneath your ear, pausing to nip the highest jade hoop.

“Where will you put your new jade?” he muses, pressing his erection to you from behind. “You’re running out of places on your body.”

“I’ll think of something,” you murmur, Yoongi’s tongue on your neck proving extremely distracting. “Wrist cuffs might be nice.”

“If you wanted to be cuffed” – his voice dips – “all you had to do was ask.”

“That is not what I was referring to,” you say, although a shiver traces your spine.

“Pity.”

A second before exiting the stairwell, Yoongi releases you and takes a step back. You ignore the disappointment this brings, forcing your expression to neutral. Already, police cars are arriving to hold back the crowds.

From across the lobby, you spot Asha and Hoseok in deep conversation with uniformed officers. Moving towards them, you’re surprised when Yoongi takes you by the elbow.

“I ran into Hoseok in the lobby,” he says, steering you sideways. “He and Asha will clean up and meet us back home.”

Hoseok nods when you pass, his jaw tight in a way that implies displeasure. Swallowing laughter, you push open the door and immediately, your smile vanishes. Many people have gathered, huddled in groups around the yellow caution tape.

Catching sight of your reflection, you stifle a groan. You look terrible – sweat and blood mar your forehead, the rips in your jacket showing your wounds. Before anything between you and Yoongi can happen, you need a hot shower.

“The situation’s been handled,” Yoongi says to the crowd, pulling you towards the car. “Green Bones are searching the area for remaining danger – you should be able to enter the building soon. No Peak will compensate for damages.”

With that, he opens the car door and watches you enter. Expressions shift in the crowd, a wave of relief washing over the people. Yoongi joins you in the backseat, leaning forward to instruct the driver to go.

The car rumbles from the curb, its speed slow to avoid the pedestrians in your path. Grateful for the tinted windows, you lean sideways and rest your head against the cool glass.

In the reflection, you watch Yoongi retrieve his car phone. “Namjoon?” he says after a moment. “It’s done – Maro is dead. How’s Yejun?”

Namjoon’s reply is muffled, and your thoughts wander. Once you return, you should find Jungkook and instruct him to search Maro’s former haunts. There’s a chance he wasn’t working alone and if so, you’ll need to catch his supporters.

Tonight has taken a toll though, no matter how much you’d like to pretend otherwise. Exhaustion settles while you stare out the window, watching the lights of Janloon flick past.

Yoongi hangs up the phone. “Yejun is fine,” he says, and you turn your head. “Namjoon said she lost a lot of blood, but nothing that can’t be fixed. She should be awake in a few hours.”

Relief floods your body. “That’s good.”

His hand rests beside yours on the seat, close enough to feel the heat from his palm. Exhaling softly, Yoongi shifts until his hand covers yours.

Going still, you stare at your entwined hands on the leather. The car slows beneath you, coming to a stop before the Min gates. Another moment passes before the gates open, the car rumbling forward as Yoongi speaks up.

“You can take us to my place, Galo,” he says. “No need to stop at the main house.”

Startled, you glance sideways, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice. Never mind the driver’s raised eyebrows, or the fact that Yoongi just told him you’re sleeping together. While it’s true, you’ve slept here before, you’ve never been obvious. It feels as though a bridge has been crossed without discussion of what that means.

The moment the car is in park, you exit the vehicle and slam the door. Striding inside the front door, you unzip your jacket to hang on a hook. If Yoongi thinks he can share your relationship with others, you have every right to act at home in his house.

Technically, the Horn has a house on Min property, but you’ve always preferred to keep a separate residence. Your apartment in the city has served you well – except for the nights you stay here and sneak out the next morning.

Removing your boots, you set these aside. “We just discussed this,” you fume as you turn. “Ask me next time before you decide–”

Your words are cut off by Yoongi’s mouth, pushing you back until your spine hits the wall. “Couldn’t wait,” he rasps, shutting the door with his foot. “Need you. Now.”

Exhaling, you melt and arch upward against him. Grasping your thigh, Yoongi yanks your leg higher to wrap around his waist. The thick length of his cock presses to your center and you nearly whimper. Fiery anger dissolves into need – the need to touch him, feel him and wash away tonight’s fear.

“Yoongi,” you moan, turning your head. “I need to shower.”

Grasping your wrists with one hand, he presses them above your head. “Do you?” he murmurs, kissing down your neck.

“I’m covered in blood,” you protest.

Glancing up, Yoongi smirks. “And?”

Stifling laughter, you push at his chest. Obedient, Yoongi releases your hands to take a step backward. “Not to mention,” you say as you move past, “I’d rather not have Toh Marosun’s blood in your bed.”

Yoongi’s next action is quick, happening in the same breath. Catching your wrist in one hand, he pulls you closer. “The next time you say a man’s name in this house,” he rasps. “It had better be mine.”

“We’ll see,” you say loftily. “Now, let me wash up.”

Releasing you, Yoongi lets you pass, and you don’t turn around. If you did, you know you might cave and fuck him right there on the floor.

Entering his bedroom, you flick on the lights. Soft, muted warmth fills a room of concrete. Bulletproof windows overlook dense vegetation, invoking the feel of a post-apocalyptic city. Pausing in the doorway, you inhale his scent.

Although you’d never tell Yoongi – it’d go to his head – this room has swiftly become one of your favorite places. Watching dawn break in his arms has brought you greater peace than any of the gods.

In his bathroom, you help yourself to his fancy products and step under the spray. Securing your hair, you do your best to avoid the strands getting wet. Cranking up the heat to high, steam fills the room as you scrub blood from your skin. The water beneath your feet turns red, and then pink before finally clear.

Once done, you turn off the spray and wrap yourself in a towel. Straining Perception, you find Yoongi showering across the house. You’re momentarily surprised he didn’t try and join, although grateful he didn’t. After five years of knowing one another, Yoongi understands when you need time alone.

You’re washing your face when the bedroom door creaks. Drying your skin, you cross to the closet and withdraw a robe. Securing the tie, you wipe steam from the mirror before opening the door.

Yoongi sits on the edge of his bed, damp hair curling at the base of his neck. He’s freshly washed and changed into a plain shirt and trousers. In one hand, he holds a crystal glass of hoji, swirling it once before taking a sip.

Leisurely, his gaze drags down your body. When Yoongi looks up, his face brims with unsaid desire. Silent, he sets down his glass and pushes himself to stand. Watching him eagerly, you Perceive his intent when Yoongi prowls closer.

Coming to a stop before you, Yoongi lifts his hand to cup the back of your neck. Tilting your face upward, he strokes your damp skin with his fingers.

Silent, he lowers his face until your lips nearly touch. “What was it you said?” he murmurs. “About the clan being your blood and the Pillar, its master?”

Your breath catches in your throat. “You know the oaths as well as I do.”

“Yes.” Bending, Yoongi uses Strength to lift you against him. Gripping you tightly, he carries you to his dresser and deposits you there. “Well,” he says, lowering himself. “Allow me to show you who I get on my knees for.”

You stare at him, mesmerized when he parts your legs. Pulling your hips to the edge, Yoongi grips your thigh with a veined hand. The sight of him like this is downright sinful. Desire courses through you, setting your skin ablaze.

Yoongi leans forward, gaze meeting yours at the first brush of his tongue. You groan with relief, thighs spreading further. Lifting his other hand, Yoongi tugs at the tie of your robe. You inhale when it opens, fully bared while Yoongi’s tongue curls against your dripping sex.

He pulls away, eyes dark and casually spreads your folds. Muttering something that sounds like a swear, he stares at your cunt before lowering his head and sucking your clit. A dark moan escapes, weight shifting to get him even closer. Forcing your thighs open, Yoongi begins to flick his tongue against your swollen mound.

He doesn’t rush this, taking his time while eating you out. Yoongi flicks, and then swirls before sucking your clit. His tongue drags to your cunt, already dripping with arousal. Humming in satisfaction, Yoongi shifts on the floor and slips his tongue inside. Gasping his name, your fingers curl in the dark strands of his hair.

His tongue slowly fucks you, barely a taste of what’s to come. “Yoongi,” you groan, moving against him. “I need more.”

“Anything,” he says, pulling back to spread you with his fingers. Yoongi’s thumb finds your clit, casually stroking until your body quivers. “Take off the robe,” he demands, looking up. “I want to see you.”

Wordless, you push the supple silk from your shoulders.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, staring at rounded breasts and hard nipples. Lowering his head, he sucks your clit again. Sliding a hand under your ass, he drags you close to the edge.

Gasping out loud, your hand fists his hair to anchor your body. In the mirror behind him, you watch your chest heave, hips undulating while he licks your pussy. Head tipping back, you lose yourself in sensation, each stroke of his tongue further coiling your tension. Yoongi is patient; he knows what you need and takes his time getting there.

Cupping his head, you move your hips while starting to ride his tongue. When Yoongi strokes your entrance and slips a finger inside, you nearly convulse.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, legs shaking.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, lifting his head. Curling that finger, he strokes a dangerous place. “Come for me.”

When his tongue resumes motion, you feel your walls convulse. Tighter and tighter until – everything snaps, a wave of pleasure cresting through you. Thighs trembling, you hold Yoongi’s hair while you cry out his name.

The pleasure slowly subsides, leaving you slumped on the dresser. Yoongi pushes himself upward, cock straining eagerly against the seams of his pants. Cupping the back of your neck, he kisses you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself. Parting your lips with his tongue, he dives into you eagerly, one hand slipping to slide into your pussy.

Groaning his name, you fumble with the buttons holding his shirt together. “This,” you demand. “Off.”

Using Strength, you send the buttons flying. Yoongi smirks, withdrawing and pushing his shirt to the ground. Touching his chest, you stare at him, unabashed. The lean lines of his torso, the indent of his v, the jade lining his fingers where he grips you tightly.

His moon blade is absent, likely the first thing he cleaned upon entry. Still, the hum of Yoongi’s jade is a potent weapon – nearly as much as the need in his eyes.

Lowering your hand, you palm the bulge in his pants. Jaw flexing, Yoongi lifts your leg to wrap around him. The roughness of his pants against your sex makes you hiss.

“Yoongi,” you moan. “Want to touch you.”

“I want that, too,” he murmurs, hair falling into his gaze. “More than that, I want to be inside you.”

Breath catching, you remove your hand as he presses forward. You feel his cock through his pants, rock-hard and straining against your needy pussy. Swallowing thickly, you managed to undo the last button and shove his pants down. Stepping free of their confines, Yoongi palms his own cock.

Replacing his hand, you give him a squeeze. Yoongi lowers his head to close his lips around a waiting nipple. A whimper rises when he tugs, switching to the other breast and repeating the motion. Arching upward, you lazily drag your thumb over the tip of his cock.

Eventually, Yoongi looks up and hisses, “Enough.”

Reaching lower, he guides his cock to your entrance. Leaning back on your palms, you lift one knee to allow him better access. Yoongi pauses, gaze traveling your face to your chest, landing on your cunt. Exhaling softly, your head tips back as you widen your legs.

“You’re perfect,” Yoongi rasps, flicking his thumb over your hooded clit.

Inhaling, you tremble from oversensitivity. Bending, Yoongi slowly spits to land moisture on your cunt. It drips down your sex, mixing with arousal while Yoongi pushes the tip of his cock inside. He pauses, watching your face, then adds another inch.

You arch upward, trying and failing to take him in deeper. “Is that all you have?” you challenge, goading.

Yoongi merely smirks. “Do you think,” he murmurs, refusing to move, “you can make me give you what you want?”

When he starts to withdraw, you tilt your hips, and he slides in a bit deeper. Yoongi groans as he fills you, hand tightening on your waist.

“Yes,” you gloat, brushing your breasts to his chest. “I do.”

Yoongi’s gaze flares, and he pushes in a bit more. “I know you, Y/N,” he murmurs, moving one hand to your neck. Thumb brushing your collarbone, he hauls you upright and keeps your thighs spread. “I know you want this pussy filled nice and slow. I know you want me to tease you. I know you want to feel in control but have someone else do the work. And I want – no, need,” Yoongi corrects, aura flaring, “to be the one giving it to you.”

Before you can respond, he thrusts forward and fills you with his cock. A cry leaves you, unable to do anything but take it. With your legs spread, hips tilted, the thickness of his length presses to your g-spot. And when Yoongi withdraws and leaves your body empty, you think you might cry. Think you might beg to have more of his cock.

Luckily, Yoongi doesn’t want this. Thrusting into you fully, he starts to move. Filling you up with his thickness, he goes harder and harder until you can barely think straight. His hips pound yours, filling you to the brim, making you take it. Fingers brushing the jade on your throat, he spikes your arousal and drenches his cock.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, staring at the place he disappears inside you. “You’re amazing.”

“Yoongi,” you groan. “I need… need…”

“Yeah?” His gaze lifts. “Tell me what you need.”

“Deeper,” you plead.

His aura flares briefly before he pulls out. Before you can speak, his hands find your waist, setting you on the floor to turn you around. Spreading your legs, he presses a hand to your back to push you lower.

Gripping his dresser, you look over your shoulder while he positions himself from behind. “What about now?” Yoongi asks, slipping inside with one thrust.

Lips parting, you bend further and stick out your ass. Yoongi starts to move when you spread your legs, fucking you harder. His thrusts become rougher, hips slapping your ass while your breasts bounce.

“That’s it,” he says, leaning forward to lace one hand with yours. His other slides between your thighs, flicking over your clit. “So wet and tight for me. Taking my cock like you own it.”

“Don’t I?” you groan.

“Mm,” he agrees, rubbing circles on your clit. “It’s yours – I’m yours.”

Before you can respond, he pulls out again. Draping you over one shoulder, Yoongi carries you, Light, to his bed. You scowl, hitting his thigh but Yoongi responds with a firm smack to your ass. His fingers slip briefly between your cheeks, wetting himself with your slick. Before you can moan, he deposits you on the bed.

Kneeling between your legs, Yoongi repositions himself at your entrance and pushes in.

“Oh,” you groan, heading tilting back.

You love sex with Yoongi in every position, but this is your favorite. Feeling his callouses slide over our skin, his weight heavy while filling you with his cock. Yoongi’s length slides inside, rocking into you slowly while his hair brushes your forehead.

Reaching up, you push this from his face when he starts to move. If there’s one thing you’ve learned from tonight, it’s that these moments are precious. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hold him tighter.

“Marry me,” Yoongi says.

You go still underneath him. “I… what?”

Sliding his hand under your hips, Yoongi tilts them to get deeper. “Marry me,” he repeats. “I’m tired of pretending. Tired of waking up without you. Living my life without you.”

“You have me,” you say, unsure whether he’s serious.

Slowly, he thrusts in and out of your body. “Not the way I want.” His eyes flash. “As not only my Horn, but my wife. I want to be your husband. I want the entire world to know I belong to you.”

Taking your other hand, Yoongi moves this to the bed while continuing to thrust. You arch against him, chasing his hips and words with your own.

“People will talk,” you say, breathless.

His gaze sparks. “Do you think I care?”

“Maybe I care,” you say. “They’ll call me a distraction. And don’t give me that bullshit about my life being worth more than yours.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yoongi chuckles, teeth scraping your neck. “What I will say is that I’m better with you. And if I’m better, the clan is better. Not that you should marry me because of that,” he adds, almost an afterthought.

You lose your breath when he circles his hips, driving into you deeper. Thighs parting, you lose yourself in the feel of him in you. His body moves as his soul does, completing you fully. In truth, you’ve avoided this conversation because you know how it ends.

It ends with Yoongi. He’s it for you. From the first time you kissed, you knew it would end up here – it was only a matter of when. Your remaining barriers crumble as you meet his gaze.

“Yes,” you exhale, your hips chasing his.

Yoongi’s aura sharpens. “Yes?” he repeats. “Is that… agreement or acceptance?”

“Yes – as in yes, Yoongi, I’ll marry you.”

Yoongi goes completely still, ignoring your protest. A second later, he’s consumed by a wave of emotion. Need – fiery and stark – sweeps through him as he bends, crushing your lips to his. Yoongi’s kiss burns, searing and marking you for one another.

Slipping an arm beneath your knee, Yoongi pushes upward to get even deeper. You gasp with pleasure, his cock hitting a spot that makes you incoherent.

“Soon,” he adds, adding Strength to his thrusts.

Breathless, your fingertips dig into his skin. “Don’t be greedy,” you chide, losing some credibility when a moan leaves your lips.

His upper lip curls. “I am, though,” Yoongi grunts, pushing you close to the edge. “I’ll never have enough of you, Y/N.”

“Good,” you say, holding him tightly. “I’m yours, Yoongi.”

A groan escapes him, burying his face in your neck. The muscles in Yoongi’s shoulders strain, fucking you harder. “I could die hearing those words.”

“Don’t. That’s an order.”

Yoongi looks up to lock gazes. “Whatever you want. I need it, Y/N. Need this – want to feel you come on my cock.”

Already close to the edge, his words leave you trembling. Clutching him harder, you widen your thighs and feel your walls shatter when you come undone. Pleasure consumes you, vision going dark as you throw back your head. Yoongi’s lips brush your throat, continuing to thrust through your orgasm.

Swearing when you tighten, Yoongi goes harder to chase his release. On his last thrust, he breaks, your name on his tongue as hot cum fills your body. Slowly, he lowers himself to the bed beside you. Yoongi slips partway out, your bodies still intertwined.

Lifting a hand, you drag this down his side. Yoongi smiles at you before pulling out, reaching to grab a tissue from his nightstand. He cleans you with care, then rises from bed to throw it away. Slipping beneath the covers, you wait for his return.

Yoongi does so quietly, dimming the light before he joins you in bed. Slowly, your eyes adjust until Yoongi’s moon-limned face becomes visible.

“Did you mean it?” you say, barely more than a whisper.

“I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he says roughly. “And you? Did you also mean what you said?”

Slowly, you nod.

Joy floods his aura, sharp and bright. “Anything you want,” Yoongi says, determined. “You have only to ask. Cities burnt. Villains vanquished. My own name, forsaken – ask, and it’s yours.”

You can’t help but laugh, your whole body shaking. “Villains vanquished?” you tease, pressing closer. “There are some who might call you the villain of this story.”

His lip twitches. “Then, I’ll defeat myself.”

“Seems like an easy fight.”

Mock growling, he rolls to pin you underneath him. You laugh louder, the sound muffled when Yoongi bends to kiss you. By the time his head lifts, the two of you are breathless.

“I apologize,” you murmur, cupping his face. “Most fearsome Pillar.”

Baring his teeth, he nips your thumb. “That’s better.”

“Truly, though,” you tell him. “There’s no need to get me anything. Whatever I want, I can get for myself.”

Somewhat amused, Yoongi settles beside you. “Oh, I’m aware. My heart, for instance,” he says, placing your hand on his chest.

“That, I’ll accept,” you say softly, staring at your hand on his skin. Your gaze lifts. “As long as mine belongs to you, in turn.”

“A heart for a heart,” Yoongi agrees, moving closer.

Skin pressed to skin, you feel your hearts settle. No Green Bone magic ties two souls together. Instead, that magic lies within the bounds of normal humans. And yet, as you breathe and listen to the blood in his veins, you can’t help but feel something greater is at work.

Something even death could not part – although you’d dare it to try.

 © kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Author’s Note: thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Go read Jade City by Fonda Lee. LOL   

[sen-ya]

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

[monthly-raining]

characters as adults

i sometimes throw up in my mouth thinking about my old art style im so much happier and expressive except i havent figured out how to add color lmaooooo

im thinking these are everyone in their early 30s

i think sophie would become a keeper... bc its literally in the series title... maybe emissary too? anyway i dont think shed be the happiest in her position but i think when she grows up she'll start to resemble oralie a lot. maybe some people will put two and two together but this might be eons after oralie resigns from the council and it becomes a little irrelevant at that point

sophie WILL go bald at a certain point when she has the biggest existential crisis

i dont know how to draw dex in general because i just dont have a clear image of who he is this late into the series... bc its been such a long time since book 9 and i havent preordered 9.5 yet

i think he might actually be the most successful out of everyone bc everyone seems to agree that he's a very talented technopath and he worked with the council when he was only a level three??? even if it was making sophie's circlet???? very impressive accepted into harvard 10/10

i love drawing biana shes just ugh. very gorgeous. cant tell if she'll live a celebrity life in the elven world or shed just mysteriously disappear for the longest time and have everyone speculate on what happened to the youngest vacker and she just comes back with like a billion luster book deal to write an autobiography of what she was up to and its basically her freaking out over the ugliest fashion trends ("i leave for three centuries and you guys make THIS a trending item of clothing????") bc biana will always stay biana

linh will cut her hair along with the silver tips. still do not know how the silver tip works. i love drawing her moles, i feel she just has to have a lot of them around her face. she volunteers for animal rehabilitation. she gives free seminars for young hydrokinetics to teach them how to control their abilities. what a woman

im the iffiest with his rendition but he probably grew out the silver tips with his sister and he toggles between keeping his bangs out of his face and keeping it down

weirdly, i think hed be a teacher of some sorts. maybe tutor for 5-10 year olds? i feel like hed be good with small kids

they get their ears pierced together. keefe's a little sadder as an adult. he also grew out his hair

fitz hasn't changed his style much

not sure why keefe is sad. i feel like the older he got in the series, the more sadder he got. it makes sense-- id be sad too. later on, he'll be happy again but i think seeing how long an elven lifespan is theyre probably still considered babies. he has time to figure it out

it'd be really nice if fitz became an author or journalist. i think alden should quit his job as emissary and write an autobiography. i think all the vackers should start journaling and not join evil organizations as a mode of therapy.

[thoughtlessthinkythoughts]

I think the key to understanding show!Aziraphale is in some lines that are in the book but not the show. Because these lines represent a place that our show Aziraphale hasn't hit yet.

Before I get into this, let me explain why I think things that aren't in the show can be so important to understanding where the show will go.

For another example, let's look at the ending of the book/s1. In the book, Adam is not impressed with Aziraphale and Crowley. There is no pep talk. He actually has a pretty stern message to them about "not messing people around."

A lot of s2 might not have worked the same way if they had gotten that message. It would have cut off room for growth. The whole plotline with Nina and Maggie for one would have been much less likely. So by holding off the stop messing with people message to the end of s2 (and then only giving it to Crowley), it provides more room for the characters to change at a pace befitting a multi-season show.

So what else do I think will end up working this way?

Well, there's a scene I love in the book that hasn't made it into the show yet. It happens after Aziraphale is discorporated. In the show, he goes to heaven, then to Madame Tracy. In the book, he bounces around possible hosts first, including a televangelist. The televangelist is going on about the rapture and such, and Aziraphale cuts in with this:

"Well, nice try...only it won't be like that at all. Not really.

"I mean, you're right about the fire and war, all that. but that Rapture stuff well, if you could see them all in Heaven - serried ranks of them as far as the mind can follow and beyond, league after league of us, flaming swords, all that, well, what I'm trying to say is who has time to go round picking people out and popping them up in the air to sneer at the people dying of radiation sickness on the parched and burning earth below them? If that's your idea of a morally acceptable time, I might add.

"And as for that stuff about Heaven inevitably winning...Well, to be honest, if it were that cut and dried, there wouldn't be a Celestial War in the first place, would there? It's propaganda. Pure and simple. We've got no more than a fifty percent chance of coming out on top. You might as well send money to a Satanist hotline to cover your bets, although to be frank when the fire falls and the seas of blood rise you lot are all going to be civilian casualties either way. Between our war and your war, they're going to kill everyone and let God sort it out-right?

"Anyway, sorry to stand here wittering, I've just a quick question-where am I?"

Because even this more cynical version of Aziraphale is adorable, the scene ends with "Gosh," he said, "am I on television?"

We didn't get this in the show, but I can't help feeling that it might be in season 3, assuming we get a season 3. It might even fit in better there, assuming we are going with a "second coming" plot. In the show, Aziraphale hasn't reached this level of cynicism (yet). I can't picture s1 or s2 Aziraphale giving this speech. Sure, he's seen what a mess the archangels are, he was willing to go against heaven to stop them from starting the end of the world, but I'm pretty sure show Aziraphale still believes in the goodness of God if not the goodness of the way heaven is run. It makes sense that show Aziraphale sees heaven as a fixable mess, an organization that isn't living up to what it should be. Because the show is taking Aziraphale's struggle with morally complex situations and questioning God and making it a longer arc.

My guess it that, as his tenure as archangel is likely to go terribly and not give him any more answers (or at least not answers he likes), he will get to the point where he could give this speech in season 3. My guess is that he's likely to also end up in a horrendous mental state once he reaches these conclusions (a perfect opportunity for some hurt/comfort). He's likely to build himself back up after that, but with a clearer look at the world.

End conclusion: if you are telling a longer story, sometimes you need to hold some things back to give your characters room to grow. So, it isn't a sign something is wrong with a story when partway through a character hasn't hit upon an obvious point.

"

[nightingaelic]

Things that are Now Fallout Canon

(according to the Special LIVE Report from Galaxy News that preceded the Fallout TV series' teaser trailer release on December 2, 2023)

Vault 33, the focus vault of the Fallout television series, is located beneath Santa Monica, California. It's also implied to be very, very expensive to get into.

Bottle and Cappy, the mascots for Nuka-Cola and its theme park, Nuka-World, were about to embark on a seventeen-movie-long series of animated films before the bombs fell.

The sinking of the RMS Titanic happened in Fallout's alternate universe. The news announcer jokes about the world going down like the infamous ship, including the deadly lack of lifeboats.

Camels exist in this universe, too! The news announcer actually fucks this one up, because he says dromedary camels have two humps - dromedary camels have one hump, while Bactrian camels have two. Or maybe we'll get a sound bite from Todd Howard in a few months where he claims the camel breed names are swapped in Fallout, who knows.

Pets were not allowed in the commercially-advertised vaults. The news announcer regrettably informs listeners that they can't bring their cats, dogs, or even fish with them due to logistical concerns and safety hazards, but they are more than welcome to purchase Vault-Tec-branded gravestones and hold pet funerals before they move underground. Hypothetically-speaking, it wouldn't surprise me if people tried to smuggle their animals in, anyway.

Someone stole the Fallout universe's original moon landing flag from the Museum of Technology in Washington, D.C. - another headline report, with no further details. It was in the same exhibit as the Virgo II lunar lander, which stayed put for at least 200 years.

Vault Boy was named "World's Sexiest Man" in 2077 (when the report is being aired) - no word about which publication or organization bestowed this title upon an animated mascot.

Vault-Tec trademarked the thumbs-up emoji in the Fallout universe - which is very much in character for the company, but something about there being emojis in the world at all hit me wrong.

Vault-Tec instituted a "breeder search program" alongside vault placement purchases, and encouraged polyamory to get people to procreate (and buy more vault spots). I'll admit that this one seems plausible but shaky, because by this point in the report the news announcer is losing his mind while stalling for the vault door to open, and he might just be making shit up.

Nuka-Cola ran its own version of the Pizza Hut "BOOK IT!" reading program, called "ZAP IT!" Kids were required to read over 10,000 books to win rewards. If we use picture books for the math, and allow for five minutes to read each book, that's about 833 hours (34 straight days) of reading to get some soda.

Moby-Dick by Herman Melville and the ancient Greek myth of Daedalus and Icarus both exist in the Fallout universe.

Resulting Thoughts

"The ghoul" in the show is possibly named Howard - unsure if that's a first or last name. In the teaser trailer, Walton Goggins (who plays the ghoul) is shown dressed like a Hollywood cowboy on the day of the Great War, riding a horse to try to escape the nuclear bombs that hit Los Angeles with an unidentified child. Meanwhile, the Galaxy News headlines report that a box office hit called "The Man From Deadhorse" is getting a sequel, which is currently filming at California Crest Studios, and the news announcer says the film is "Howard-led." Whether the ghoul is the lead actor, we don't know, but it seems like a solid enough hint at his origins.

I'm glad that the show is going to delve more into the idea of the haves and have-nots, what with vault entrance being both selective and expensive. The most recent games in the series don't talk about this enough, in my opinion.

This isn't specific to the show adaptation, but it's becoming more noticeable to me that the Fallout series is crawling forward in terms of relating to modernity. I'm not sure how to feel about this - for example, I don't really mind if the soundtrack of Fallout 76 features the Beach Boys and other 1960s songs when it used to be strictly limited to 1930s and 40s music. On the other hand, I thought that using a news announcer that sounds more like a modern podcast host than a Transatlantic-accented journalist was an odd choice, and as I said above, I really did not like the idea that pre-war America knows what an emoji is. I'll get over it, but I'm anticipating that there will be some more artistic choices in the adaptation (and future games) that rub me and others the wrong way because they don't fit our definition of what Fallout "is." I'm not saying anything new, people have been arguing about that forever.

Overall, I'm excited. We're probably not getting a new Fallout game until 2030, so I might as well try to enjoy this. I will be keeping my bingo cards handy, though.

Anyway, I transcribed the damn report because I'm very normal. Feel free to use!

Fallout - A Special LIVE Report from Galaxy News

with occasional commentary from yours truly

[An upbeat, strings-led orchestral jingle plays, and black-and-white picture focuses on a spinning, silver globe. The globe is being circled by a vintage toy rocket. The words "GALAXY NEWS" fly in, and are quickly wiped and replaced by script declaring "Vault-Tec Presents..." The picture is circle-wiped and transitions to a high view of a vault entrance, with no visible script or markings to indicate which vault it is. The large, circular vault door is closed, and the access bridge to the door is not connected. A timer counting down from 60 minutes is overlaid in the bottom left corner, just above the Galaxy News globe logo and a signal tower graphic next to the word "LIVE." News headlines scroll along the bottom of the screen, the first of which reads "GALAXY NEWS SIGNS 10-YEAR PARTNERSHIP DEAL WITH VAULT-TEC." The headlines are separated by small lightning bolt graphics. The music continues throughout, and a male news announcer's voice cuts in.]

Good morning! Or, afternoon! Or evening, depending on where in the world you are. If you're just tuning in with us now, you're in for a treat. Welcome to the unveiling of Vault 33, one of the flagship vaults of Vault-Tec's arsenal of vaults.

[The second scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC VOTED AMERICAN COMPANY WITH BRIGHTEST FUTURE."]

Galaxy News is here live with an exclusive look at the next generation of apocalypse-proof, purpose-built luxury housing, sponsored by our friends at Vault-Tec. Vault-Tec: Revolutionizing safety for an uncertain future.

[The third scrolling headline reads "ROBCO INTERPLANETARY PROBE PROBES DEEPER INTO SPACE THAN ANY PROBE HAS PROBED BEFORE."]

If you're a regular viewer of our programming, we consider you an astute, engaged citizen, doing your part to stay informed on the latest news impacting this beautiful country of ours, and so it will be no surprise to you that we are on the precipice of a nuclear armageddon. But, fear not, Vault-Tec is building the ultimate shelter-in-place solution for the more doomsday-savvy customer: A veritable ark meticulously designed to weather the geopolitical storm surely headed our way any day now. And for the first time on live broadcast, the fine folks at Vault-Tec will be giving you a tour of their newest product unveiling, from the comfort of your home.

[The announcer takes a break, and the music swells. The vault remains closed, and no activity whatsoever is visible around it. It might as well be a static image. The fourth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-WORLD BREAKS ATTENDANCE RECORD FOR FOURTH STRAIGHT YEAR. GALACTIC ZONE GIVEN CREDIT FOR INCREASED NUMBERS." The initial song ends, and a new strings song with a more staccato rhythm begins. The news announcer returns.]

Welcome, once again, to Vault 33, nestled in the coastal west side of sunny Los Angeles County, and minutes from the yet-to-be-destroyed, bustling downtown promenade. Should nuclear annihilation one day come for this quiet beach-side town, you can take comfort in knowing you are safely buried deep, deep below what numerous trade publications once called "one of the best places to live." Right now, ladies and gentlemen, what you're looking at is peace of mind. Billions and billions of dollars and decades of R&D funneled into the high-grade protection engineering that only Vault-Tec can bring you.

[The fifth scrolling headline reads "WE ASKED OUR VIEWERS TO ANSWER A SIMPLE QUESTION: WHAT IS THE GREATEST NATION ON EARTH AND WHY IS IT AMERICA? HEAR THE RESULTS TONIGHT AT 10PM EST." At this point, the news announcer starts to sound less formal and more excited.]

Aren't we a bunch of lucky ducks! Vault-Tec has tapped us into their closed loop security feed to bring you a sneak peek behind a vault entrance airlock. That large, fortified steel blast door you see there is the only thing standing between you and the rads.

[The sixth scrolling headline reads "UNITED STATES AGAIN ACCUSED OF ATMOSPHERIC COUNTER-ESPIONAGE BY THE REDS."]

Very soon - very soon, I'm told - Arnold? Are we - yeah - and we're very soon, and we're very soon. Very, very soon, I'm told, that gear door will open, and Galaxy News will be on the ground to give you all a walking tour of the facilities! Including the accommodations one might expect in a state-of-the-art, modern residence thanks to a partnership with RobCo Industries and some of your shelf-stable forever favorites like BlamCo and Sugar Bombs! There's nowhere to hide from explosive good taste! Boom!

[The news announcer disappears again, and the strings conclude and are replaced with a meandering clarinet-led number. Several scrolling headlines go by: "U.S. RENEWS DEFENSE CONTRACT WITH WEST TEK, HERALDS VALUE OF POWER ARMOR IN ALL THEATERS OF WAR." "ESPIONAGE THREAT SUBDUED IN DOMESTIC URANIUM MINES." "PRESIDENT DECLARES NUCLEAR STOCKPILE 'SAFE ENOUGH.'" "BULLETIN OF THE ATOMIC SCIENCES SETS DOOMSDAY CLOCK TO HALF A NANOSECOND TO MIDNIGHT." "ATLAS OBSERVATORY CHRISTENS NEW TELESCOPE, RE-COMMITTING TO A NON-VIOLENT PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE." The song ends, a new one begins, and the news announcer returns. The vault still hasn't opened, and he's dropped what was left of his professional tone.]

And we are... stalled out. We're still... having technical difficulties. You know, sometimes things go bad and there's just no way you can plan. It's kind of like what's happening with the world right now, there's no way you could've been born into the world and know how you were going to end - know how the world would end. How will the world end, in fire or in ice? Well, it turns out -

[laughter]

It turns out it's gonna be fire...

[The twelfth scrolling headline reads "CHRISTMAS TOY TRENDS: RETAILERS REPORT SHORTAGE OF POWER ARMOR FIGURINES."]

Arnold! What's that? Okay. Yes.

[sound of paper pages being flipped through]

Okay. Arnold just handed me a fun fact. We're gonna do fun facts, fun facts.

[The thirteenth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA QUANTUM GETS FDA APPROVAL, FOUND TO CONTAIN 'HEALTHY AMOUNT OF RADIATION."]

Fun fact about the construction of these massive vaults: They use concrete. Hm. That hardly counts as a fun fact, Arnold. Now is there an update on when the door... the door's gonna be open? Arnold? I'm sorry, is there an update on the door? Is there an update on the crane? Is it a crane problem, or a door problem? Is it a pr- is it a crane problem, or a door problem? Arnold? Arnold! Arnie!

[sigh]

Okay...

[The news announcer gives up, and a song with a lot of muted trumpet comes in to serenade more scrolling headlines. "NO ONE'S BEATING THIS DEADHORSE. 'THE MAN FROM DEADHORSE' TOPS BOX OFFICE. A SEQUEL IS ALREADY IN THE WORKS AT CALIFORNIA CREST STUDIOS." "ATLAS WEATHER EXPERIMENT BELIEVED TO BE THE CAUSE OF UNEXPECTED SNOW FLURRY IN LOS ANGELES." "DEVELOPING: REDS CONTINUES TO DENY EXISTENCE OF STEALTH SUBMARINES, US INTELLIGENCE SUGGESTS OTHERWISE." Woodwinds replace the trumpet, and the news announcer returns, pivoting to an unrehearsed sales pitch for his sponsor.]

If you have the money, please - please, guys - get a Vault-Tec vault. Get in there! Think of it as a life raft, a bit. Our country is the Titanic, and these vaults are the life rafts - right? - attached to the side of it.

[The seventeenth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA MASCOTS 'BOTTLE AND CAPPY' TO APPEAR IN ANIMATED FILM FROM CALIFORNIA CREST STUDIOS. WILL BE THE FIRST IN A SEVENTEEN PICTURE DEAL BETWEEN THE COMPANIES."]

Now, were there enough life rafts on the Titanic? If you remember - no, no there weren't enough, and so many, many people died, and so, it's a nice allegory actually, because they're not going to die in the freezing ocean, which would be - actually, it's a little faster to die by fire than it is by drowning in the cold, so it is kind of an advantage to be dying now, th- rather than on the Titanic, the RMS Titanic.

[The eighteenth scrolling headline reads "SUPPLY LINES FOR RED FORCES BREAKING DOWN." Sort of like this announcer. He pivots again.]

Now - can you call a survivor of a nuclear holocaust a person, anymore? I don't know. Their brain is going to be cottage cheese, and they will be crawling... crawling on the ground, stuffing sand in their mouth, their blind eyes melted out, like the white of an egg, just dripping and dribbling out of their eye sockets.

[The nineteenth scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC ANNOUNCES COMPLETION OF VAULT 33 UNDER SANTA MONICA, CA."]

They raise their face towards their... god... and scream, "Nooooo! Whyyyyyy! What did it all mean?" It turns out it didn't mean much if you didn't get a spot in a Vault-Tec vault."

[The twentieth scrolling headline reads "MILITARY UNITS SENT TO QUELL UNREST IN SEVERAL STATES."]

"Now, let's talk about the luxury interiors of Vault-Tec vaults. We have camel leather. You've heard of cow leather. Probably. Camel leather is a great deal softer, isn't it? It comes from the camel, who keep their water on their backs in a hump. Sometimes two, if they're a dromedary. Now, let's talk about camel leather and why it is more supple, and why it is cooler to the touch, and we can talk about it forever but what you want is luxury, what you need is safety: Where you go is Vault-Tec. That's it.

[I feel like I need to point out that dromedary camels only have one hump, and no camels store water in their humps: It's actually just fat up there that they can live off of while traversing deserts. Regardless, the announcer is gone again. The scrolling headlines remain. "NUKA CORP SPINS OFF ATOMIC RESEARCH ARM INTO SEPARATE CORPORATE ENTITY AFTER SEC APPROV." "SUPER DUPER MART ANNOUNCES RECALL OF BLAMCO MAC & CHEESE FOR TRACE AMOUNTS OF DAIRY." "VAULT-TEC STOCKS SOAR AS US ECONOMY BECOMES FEAR-BASED." "BUREAU OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO, FIREARMS AND LASERS TAKE DOWN NATIONWIDE WEAPONS SMUGGLING RING." Another woodwind-heavy song starts up, and so does our announcer.]

Um... Arnold?

[throat clearing]

Arnie! Can we- do- do we have a- can we start a clock? Can we - is there, like, anything we can do? I feel like people need something to hold onto, there's a lot of empty air. There's a lot of dead air, here. People need something to hold onto, people are freaking out, and I'm freaking out because I like to have - I like to bring people comfort - uh, in, in this crazy time. There's, there's only a few things you can predict -

[laughter]

In - in the world, and uh, I thought that opening the vault on time would be one of those things.

[The twenty-fifth scrolling headline reads "MILITARY SETS THREAT LEVEL OF POSSIBLE BIOLOGICAL WEAPON ATTACK FROM REDS TO HIGH."]

I was kind of counting on it as a - a thing that would bring some amount of normalcy, some amount of comfort. Something happening the way it's supposed to in a world that feels like it has been turned upside down by evil. But, unfortunately that is not the case. Here we are. Another thing we don't know. Another thing we have to grapple with.

[The twenty-sixth scrolling headline reads "TEDDY FEAR MANUFACTURER SETTLES CLASS ACTION LAWSUIT, DENIES TOY BEAR CAUSES SLEEP PARALYSIS NIGHTMARES IN CHILDREN."]

This particular vault and these technical difficulties that we're having right now have absolutely nothing to do with the product that you will buy when you buy a Vault-Tec vault. Now, Vault-Tec vault living is living the dream, and it's the only way to safety unless you're... the President of the United States, or something like that, and you have a mountain in Colorado to go under and direct the events of the world. Not many of us are that, there's only one of those... uh, and his various and sundry advisors, I'm sure they'll be fine, but you won't! You won't be fine!

[The twenty-seventh scrolling headline reads "WERE TEDDY FEAR BEARS MISUNDERSTOOD? ONE PSYCHOLOGIST THINKS SO."]

If a vault is out of your price range, there are lower-cost alternatives to purchasing a spot with Vault-Tec. They don't sound... good, if you ask me. Anti-radiation pills? Good luck with that. Not sure how anti-radiation pills will hold up against temperatures rivaling the surface of the sun, for example. But maybe that's just me!

[He's gone again. We're 15 minutes into the countdown, and the woodwinds have really started to outdo their own whimsy, at this point. Headlines continue. "TEDDY FEARS SKYROCKET IN POPULARITY AND PRICE DUE TO SCARCITY CAUSED BY RECALL." "VAULT-TEC ANNOUNCES NEWLY AVAILABLE SINGLE VAULT SPACES FOR SALE." "THIS YEAR'S FALLOUT SUIT DESIGN FEATURES ENHANCED PROTECTION, 20% MORE ZIPPERS." The whimsical woodwinds finish up and a bouncy, brassy horn piece takes over. This summons the announcer.]

When you see that vault, it's all gonna be worth it, fellas. It's all gonna be worth it when you see that vault. Now kids, you're probably wondering: Can I bring my pet doggy, or my pet kitty, into the vault? You can't. Unfortunately... it's a hazard in so many different ways. Uh... tch, uh, their hair can get caught in the ventilation system, you'll have endless problems, where do you put their waste? Where do you put... their food? So many, so many problems, so... we have specially-made Vault-Tec gravestones.

[The thirty-first scrolling headline reads "VIRGO II LUNAR LANDER NOW ON DISPLAY AT MUSEUM OF TECHNOLOGY IN WASHINGTON, D.C."]

We have specially-made Vault-Tec pet gravestones for your children to have many funerals for their pets before you go into your Vault-Tec vault. Memorialize your pets now with Vault-Tec mini pet gravestones! Dig a hole in the sand, put the pet in there, and put that gravestone - and it's got a space where you can write the pet's name - right before you go in the vault, no pets in the vault. Not even fish. No, not even fish.

[The thirty-second scrolling headline reads "FLAG FROM VIRGO II LUNAR LANDING STOLEN FROM MUSEUM OF TECHNOLOGY." The news announcer is really getting aggravated.]

What is happening? What is - Arnie! What is - what is happening? Okay - okay! Alright!

[The music and the headlines fill the space again. "NUKA-WORLD TO RAISE TICKET PRICES FOR UPCOMING SEASON, EXPECTING AN 'EXPLOSIVE' YEAR." "GWINNETT ANNOUNCES NEW PALE ALE SO PALE IT'S TRANSPARENT." "HAPPY NATIONAL SOCK HOP DAY!" "VAULT BOY NAMED WORLD'S SEXIEST MAN." The news announcer tries again, attempting to play up the complete inactivity happening onscreen.]

So much is happening here, we've got... the crane, as you can see, it's - it's about to be lowered, and I'm told - and I'm told... the weather. The inclement weather is - keep - I think the weather... there's a pressure cha- it needs to be - yes, of course. The pressure needs to be right to open the vault, or else the differential pressure between underground and overground will cause... a, uh... uh, the furniture to, uh...

[The thirty-seventh scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC REGISTERS TRADEMARK ON THE THUMBS UP EMOJI." This one made me physically recoil.]

L- Look... get a Vault-Tec vault. If you can't afford a whole vault for your family, that's fine. Buy time in a timeshare, one of our timeshares. And it's not the kind of timeshare you're going to regret, this is one that's not a scam, because you can look down at your intact body in a Vault-Tec vault and say, "Look at me! I'm whole!"

[The thirty-eighth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA PATRIOTICALLY SALUTES SUCCESS OF NEWEST FLAVOR LAUNCH - NUKA-COLA VICTORY. EXCLUSIVE REDESIGN COMING NEXT YEAR WITH 'A TASTE AS SWEET AS FREEDOM.'"]

Stay whole in a Vault-Tec vault! Keep it together, meaning your corporeal form! Keep it together in a Vault-Tec vault! You'll be skipping around in a workout area, and... check out those barbells! Why not work those biceps while you're down here? What if there's an emergency, and somebody breaches your Vault-Tec vault door? Well, you're gonna want to be in shape to fight off that rageful beast!

[At this point the scrolling headlines loop back to the beginning.]

Now, is it a human? If you kill it, will its soul go to heaven or hell? Don't worry about it! Just get it out, because even its presence in your Vault-Tec vault could kill you and your entire family! These people are irradiated. It's not healthy, right? It's like putting your hand on a radiator. Don't do it.

[Music break. That vault still isn't opening. The song ends, and the news announcer clears his throat.]

We don't... have the exact scoop yet, ladies and gentlemen, so Arnie, why don't we put some music on while we wait for the skinny?

[noticeable pause]

I- I- I- I- don't know what song, put on anything, I'm dying up here.

[The next song opens with energetic trumpets that sound like they're charging through a movie theater snack stand. It's followed by a big band track that seems to re-energize the announcer.]

And, if you're just joining us, we're preparing to head inside the latest and greatest product offering from Vault-Tec. Vault 33, a pristine subterranean society purpose-built for America's best and brightest to wait out the nuclear fallout. There's no telling what will remain once this global conflict reaches its inevitable conclusion: That's why it's important for patriots like you to purchase a guaranteed spot in America's future. It's up to you to keep our golden society going, propagating forth until we have the ranks to repopulate the world outside.

"What if I don't have a partner or family right now?" you may be asking. "Don't give up on love so soon!" I say. Where better to meet eligible partners than in a cherry-picked community of like-minded individuals? If you find you need a bit more assistance, Vault-Tec has breeder search programs to help you find the one, or the two, or the three, four, five! Vault-Tec is a very open society, so go ahead and purchase that single vault space, and that single may become a double before you know it! And what better place to find someone to love, than safe underground?

Please stay tuned as we prepare to bring the crew, and the world at large, inside our Vault-Tec facility.

"But what if I don't have the money for a vault right now?" you may be thinking. You should never let not having the funds today stop you from reaching your dreams. You can always pay tomorrow, into perpetuity. Vault-Tec is reportedly constructing financial packages that allow for customers to continue payments on select economy vaults, in the event of total societal extinction. So don't worry, purchase away! Vault-Tec upholds traditional American values, and they believe no one should be excluded from the pursuit of life, liberty, and debt.

[Music break, wherein the song concludes and switches to something more pensive and staccato.]

A- Alright? Yes? Arnold is telling me - yes? We are moments away! Moments away - from having some kind of movement here. I'll believe that when I see it. Sorry Arnie, but your credibility with me could not be any lower at this point.

Let's talk about the amenities in these concrete miracles. Radiation King will be providing television sets, modern kitchen appliances.

[throat clearing]

The sofas will be... I'm sorry, do we know who makes the sofas? I'm sorry, do we - do we know who makes the sofas? Do we know who makes the sofas? Arnold, do we know who makes the sofas?

[Arnold does not reply. The announcer is miffed.]

What else is new. Yeah.

[Dejection turns to anger immediately.]

If you could please just give me something? If you could please just give me something to update? I'm sitting here with nothing! I'm sitting here... with nothing! This isn't my job! I'm a journalist! I report things, I don't... vamp! Is there even a - is, is there a clue? Is there, do the crane people - have the crane people chimed in? Have the door people chimed in? Is it all one person?

[Arnold presumably says some inaudible form of "I don't know." This does not please the news announcer.]

Well maybe con- maybe connect yourself to them. You should get yourself a radio. Get yourself a radio, Arnold. That's your job, to communicate with me the facts about what's going on, and it's my job to communicate to the people who are watching - we're trying to save their lives - you know, and this isn't advertising for me. This is a product I believe in!

Arnold, what do you do? What skills do you - are you somebody's son? Are you - are you somebody's kid, or something?

[Arnold can finally be heard, somewhat garbled from distance or technology: "My uncle is, uh, is the general manager of Galaxy News, your employer." The news announcer considers this.]

Your uncle is the manager of Galaxy New - mmm. Well, that explains how you got this internship. I'm sorry for everything I said, but... you can understand my frustration, here.

[The music concludes, but the announcer keeps going.]

The, uh, vault foreman is out here, and he is, uh, uh, doing hand signals. Ooh, yes, it's going to be a while, let's play some music for the people, Arnie.

[A new song starts. We're nearly 30 minutes into the countdown before the song switches over and the news announcer starts up again.]

All right folks, we have an update! They've got eyes on the gatekeeper out walking the grounds. It appears he was attempting to retrace his steps after misplacing the key and his wallet - still no word on the key itself, please stand by for more on the wallet, as this story continues to unfold.

Still on standby as we wait for the situation in the vault to resolve, but folks, there is plenty to get the American public up to speed on in the meantime. World news stories! Breaking, breaking news from the international desk. Peace negotiations between America and her adversaries crumbled in Anchorage, Alaska, this past weekend, a city recently liberated from foreign occupation, leading experts to believe nuclear war is indeed on the horizon. One more reason, America, to tune into the presentation Vault-Tec has for us today. Preparation, resilience, and smart spending are the only way our precious republic makes it through that long, dark night.

[This revelation approximates the date of the broadcast, which is happening not long after the Battle of Anchorage. The clash in Alaska officially ended on January 10, 2077: This news bulletin proves that attempted peace negotiations followed, then failed.]

Going the way of the dinosaurs has never felt this fun! If only the dinosaurs had Vault-Tec technology. Now, the dinosaurs died because... a meteor came from space, right? They had nothing to do with it. We have everything to do with our own demise. It's almost like… people are a virus that is destroying the Earth, we're a planet-killing virus. And people do say, "Oh, well, you know, well, the cockroaches... will outlive us and the the aardvarks or whatever will outlive us." Well, they won't. They're going to die too, because this is the real deal, guys. This is the end. So if you're not underground, I don't know what you're doing.

I wonder how we'll evolve. Will we develop a different kind of skin, some kind of leathery, plastic skin to fight off the nuclear fire? Who knows, but the only way to find out is to purchase a Vault-Tec vault, or a space in one of our timeshares.

[Music break again. It's a rather lively waltz.]

For those gathered around their Radiation King TV sets today, thank you for your patience. Rome wasn't built in a day!

[laughter]

Very soon you will witness… one of the greatest modern advances since the Virgo II moon landing - you won't want to miss this, the future of you and your future children depends on it.

[Exasperation sets in.]

Honestly, who wrote this copy?

[Arnold presumably raises his hand.]

You did, Arnold? Well, that's not surprising. It leaves… yes, well, it leaves a lot to be desired. They couldn't hire a professional writer? You look like you're 15 years old.

[Arnold inaudibly corrects him.]

You're 23? Yeah, well, 23-year-olds look like they're 15 now, still too young. What could you know about the - what could you possibly know about the written word, Arnold? Goddamn it. What could you - what do you know about writing and oratory? Nothing, I'll answer y- for you, nothing. The lack of professionalism - myself not included - disgusts me. The lack of professionalism disgusts me, Arnold!

Speaking of nuclear fire, you should see the muffin tray they left out for me. People want a blueberry mu- you want a muffin, okay? A muffin. Not a little squirt of dough, with a little powdered su- give me a muffin, give me a real thing, okay? Give me some snacks! You're going to give me some coffee? Good. I need a snack, to balance it. I'm not the only person in the world who needs a little bit of fat in their stomach when they eat a... big haul of caffeine.

[throat clearing]

Stand by as we wait for the situation in the vault to resolve.

[The music does some flourishes, then finishes.]

Ladies and gentlemen, it's official: We're experiencing some technical difficulties. And before we can open the vault - Vault 33, our flagship vault, full of the, uh, finest luxury items available to mankind, a- as of now - maybe we could put something on to keep people company while we figure out the technical difficulties. Sorry, these difficulties of course have nothing to do with Vault-Tec's vault tech. In- in- indeed…

Look, I need to have a whole cigarette right now. Just put on the song. Where are my smokes?

[The music starts up again while the announcer burns through a cigarette at the speed of a Corvega.]

Well, well, well! Here we are again! Ladies and gentlemen, we're dealing with a hiccup. Now, hiccups... might seem like a momentary stoppage, but this is a big hiccup. It's like God is hiccuping.

Vault-Tec is reporting that there's only one gatekeeper and one key on this vault model. The keys for these vaults are one of one, it fits like a glove, but it's - it's - these - these locks are very, very complicated.

God, it's so good to be on the other side of this. I don't think people know. People really don't know what's coming, and that's probably good. If you haven't watched… if you haven't watched the news up to this point, don't pick it up. Don't… just try and stay ignorant, uh, really don't find out what's going to happen because… it's bad, um, it's over.

[laughter]

The Earth is a slaughterhouse, and we are cattle!

[laughter]

We- we'll go back into, uh, a society resembling Bronze Age Mesopotamia. That's where we're going. It's not fun. Um... disease is… really prominent, um… we don't treat women well - let's just face it, it's - they - we don't treat them well now, but back then… oof. Rough. Rough treatment of women. You think we're racist now?

It's going to get bad. Where you want to be is underground. Vault-Tec vaults.

[A really tinny muted trumpet rises to its occasion as he disappears again for a bit.]

You know what else is great about Vault-Tec vaults? The air purification system. Let's talk about air. You need air to breathe, I need air to breathe, we need air to breathe. Vault-Tec's got it in spades! We've got oxygen candles straight from our finest nuclear submarines that you can burn, that turn nitrogen and carbon dioxide into oxygen molecules. Perfectly breathable, perfectly safe for your children, and your children's children, and your children's children's children in case we're there for three sweaty generations of sweaty living underground! In a fresh vault!

In fact, we put a family in a vault for 10 years and let them out just to see how it would go… and here they are now! "We loved it, uh… We loved it! That was great!" Uh… that's - I'm making it up! I'm making that up. I am imagining what could happen if I had more information about the vaults, but I don't have that information, so I'm making it up! Ha! Vault-Tec vaults, yes. Say yes to the tech!

[The music saves us for a bit.]

Unfortunately, we are back, the vault hasn't opened, and we have had absolutely no movement towards the vault opening, so! Hope you enjoyed that music. I know I was tapping my feet. Let's get back into it, where are we?

The US government has been quietly testing T-60 power armor suits as part of their long-standing defense contract with West Tek, following up the T-45 and T-51 efforts in the ongoing war with the People's Liberation Army.

[hisses through teeth]

How about that? How about that. The Man from Deadhorse gallops to a fast start at the box office! The Howard-led western is said to be the next smash for California Crest Studios.

[So the ghoul's name is probably Howard Something, or Something Howard. Interesting, but the announcer doesn't care and decides to throw another tantrum.]

Am I crazy or is this taking forever? I don't think I'm crazy, but I feel crazy! In fact, I might be the only person involved in this whole production who hasn't lost his mind! I'm looking at you, Arnie, I'm looking at you!

[Looking at Arnie yields nothing, again.]

"You don't know what to do, you don't know what to do." You idiot! I can't even get the word- I can't even get the information from you. Worthless!

[grunt of rage]

It's just me and Arnie here, I'm in hell, he's sitting there smiling at me, I'm in absolute hell!

Do you have a spot, Arnie? Do you have a spot in a vault? Oh! You do! What vault is that?

[long pause]

Oh, that's the one I'm in. Oh. Dear God.

[deep breath]

I guess we should get to know each other.

Ladies and gentlemen, we don't even know what's wrong here… but I can assure you that what isn't wrong is Vault-Tec technology, this has nothing to do with Vault-Tec's patented lock technology and everything to do with stupid people and human error. If you're this inefficient at work, what is home li- do - how do you wipe yourself?

[Uncalled-for, news announcer man.]

Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy this music while we figure out what's going on.

[Musical break number who knows. Just over 11 minutes remain on the countdown.]

In other sponsored news, Nuka-Cola is celebrating the success of one of their newest flavor launches, Nuka-Cola Victory, with an exclusive redesign release later next year. Students that read over 10,000 books can be part of the ZAP IT! Program, rewarding literacy with sugar!

[deep breath]

I don't like Nuka-Cola. Personally... I don't like Nuka-Cola. Too sweet. I don't drink it. But it's popular, I have stocks in it, I invest - I invest in it. I don't drink it. It's the way the world is. Just because it's popular, doesn't mean it's good, just because it's good, doesn't mean it's popular. A can of Nuka-Cola, what is that, it's energy slowed down, right? It's the energy of the universe slowed down, right? What are we, what am I? We are energy slowed down into the form of a human being. All that's about to stop.

[laughter]

All that's about to stop! All that's about to go away! Maybe there's life on other planets. Maybe there's not. Are they going to come save us, no! If I were on another planet, and I came here, I would have an endless belly laugh at our folly, I mean, the folly of man! It's funny, there's so much written about the "folly of man." I mean, read Moby-Dick. Read… uh… what di- what happened with the - the wax wings, the wax wing guy? Wax wing man, Mr. Wax Wings, Daedalus. What's his name?

[Arnold hazards a guess we can hear: "Shakespeare?"]

Arnold, Shakespeare? Arnold, Arnold, good god… Shakespeare? Where did you go - you went to one of these hippie schools...

[Arnold tries again: "I think it was Icarus?" The announcer is ecstatic.]

Icarus! Icarus. Wow! You are good for something. Wow, Arnie!

Now, Icarus, he was close to the sun. In a Vault-Tec vault, you'll be as far from it as possible. You will be up to 50 feet underground, in a Vault-Tec vault, safe and sound in the knowledge that the wax on your wings will not be anywhere close to anything that will make it melt, except our new Vault-Tec oven!

[The horns come in again.]

Where are you f- what's your family situation? Do you have kids or…

[Arnold probably shakes his head.]

No kids? Good for you.

[laughter]

Are you single?

[Arnold: "Yeah."]

Ahh, yeah. I wouldn't recommend going into a vault single. You might want to lock someone down and take you in there - if only to help you fight - and, uh, survive, it's good to have a partner. Yeah… oof!

Anyway, glad I'm safe and secure in my vault! Um… I'm in the tax bracket that kind of... automatically gets a vault, so, sorry everybody. Uh… I'll be, uh, doing this thing called surviving, while you are all burning.

[deep breath]

What's the point of any of this? What's the point of any of this? Nobody - nobody listening to this can afford one of these things. Everybody listening to this is about to turn into an idea!

[laughter]

Instead of a being! But, here we are! Let's whoop it up! Let's whoop it up! It's a big parade… for the end of mankind! It's a big parade! Here's the final celebration, Arnie! Here we are!

Let's stake our claim in a dying planet! Let's plant our flag in a dead rock, and see how we feel. Let's see how we feel after the flag is planted, Arnie.

[a deep sigh]

I don't know how much longer I can do this, man.

[another deep breath]

My voice hurts, I'm thirsty, we're out of water, the muffins they laid out at the top of the day are dry and old, I feel dry and I feel old.

I give up! I give up.

[chuckles]

What's the point of this? I mean, what's the point of anything? I'm... I'm broken.

[Emotion creeps in.]

I'm broken. I'm changed. I am broken and I have changed. I…

[one more deep breath]

Thanks to you, Arnie. Thanks to you, man. Thanks, you're the best, yeah, thanks to you, pal. Thanks to you, buddy boy. You are just awful. You disgust me. Yeah, I'm just - I'm sorry. I'm - I'm just… I'm fried, man. I'm - I'm fried, pal. I'm fried. Dead. Gravestone, dead. Oh yeah, that's, okay.

Oh, god. Where are we in the process of the door opening?

[Arnold: "Yeah, it's over."]

What?

[A record scratch stops the music. Two minutes remain on the countdown.]

What's that? Oh!

[The announcer clears his throat, and the music changes to a triumphant fanfare.]

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm getting word. Ladies and gentlemen... I've gotten word that we are star- we are starting, ladies and gentlemen. It's happening! Here we are! Here we are, we got it, we got it, and now…

N- and now, this afternoon is unlike any other afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. It was the morning, now it's the afternoon - here we go! The crane is loweri- Here we go!

[relieved laughter]

Okay! Really close to the time where I can go, and get out of here! The crane is lowering, it is happening, the tumblers are tumbling! The crane is lowering, the tumblers are tumbling, we are… go! We're going! It's opening! It's opening!

[The static image of the vault has not changed in the slightest bit.]

You try doing this! You try doing this, Arnie! You try filling the time! Next time we'll switch places, Arnie, and you can try it! Oh boy, oh boy, here we go, thank god we're doing it and it's happening. I see motion, I see- I see Vault-Tec… I am convinced! Guys, this is great, it's been great, Arnie? It's been great. Arnie, it's been great. You know, I hope we are in the same vault. I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you, Arnie.

[slightly unhinged laughter]

As long as this happens right now, I am fine with spending the rest of my life with you! As long as the vault opens right now. The fact that nuclear fire could fall from the sky at any moment has made this broadcast that much more important. Thank you, thank you so much for joining us!

[lurkinggirlie]

Elain & Azriel are EndGame

Azriel’s bonus chapter: semi-essay on my thoughts

This post will be a long one. The shipwar has been going on for far too long, and there's a possiblity that we'll be getting closure soon. So, I want to put my thoughts out there. For Obvious reasons, I could be very wrong, but this is what I think based on canon text: (Ignore any errors..I haven't edited this, and I'm sure there are many posts like this that are way more articulate)

Elriel are endgame. If they’re not then Azriel is kinda pathetic and having him end-up with anyone else is bad writing and character assassination. (Which we sadly won’t put past sjm but I don’t think she would..at least I hope)

1- Elain has no other love interest. Yes, Lucien is her mate but we have hinted at a broken/rejected mating bond for the longest time when it comes to these two so having them accept it eventually is going to be quite underwhelming, repetitive and boring. Even Lucien seems to have given up/isn’t interested in bridging that gap between them, which we’re told in both acofas and acosf. Unless you want to count the longing pointed out by Cassian, although Cassian also pointed out that Lucien was also uncomfortable when he mentioned his mate. To add on, there is no sexual tension between the two, and we know how important that is for sjm’s couple. You can't keep whining "but Elain isn't giving him a chance, if only she gave him a chance, then maybe this and maybe that" Elain is not a seprate entity, she is what SJM writes, Sjm could have written that but she did not yet and I'm not sure if she will. It feels too late at this point, she had already shown us that Elain has feelings for someone else aka Azriel. The author doesn't have to spell everything out for us to understand to what's going on. Sarah usually makes it clear who's endgame. and she literally is. So, it would be very sudden and out of the blue if Lucien and Elain were to end up together when she had never shown it before. When even Azriel pointed this out “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway” people can say Rhys killed elriel, that the bonus chapter ended them. But this line right here tells us otherwise! First we know Azriel and Elain can read each other so well that they don’t need words, and then Azriel tells us this. He’s literally telling us that Elain does not want Lucien.

We also cannot compare elucien to Feysand or Nessian in the “enemies to lovers" department, because these two seem to hardly care about each other. For obvious reasons she wouldn’t accept or reject Lucien in a book that isn’t hers. But if they do end up together I’d feel robbed that she had more sexual tension with Azriel than she did with Lucien. And we know that Nessian and Feysand had sexual tension before getting together. Most of what we got from Elain and Lucien was awkwardness, and discomfort. Not a single spark. Furthermore, it would feel like Azriel was just leading Elain own. Plus their romance (Lucien and Elain)  would not feel organic, only getting with Lucien because she felt rejected by Azriel, which doesn’t give epic romance no matter how sjm tries to spin it. It would always make Lucien seem like the second choice.

2- Azriel regifting the necklace was a dickhead move, and offensive to both girls. Anyone thinking the regifting of the necklace ended elriel or started gwynriel is delusional and clearly doesn’t know how the romance genre works. (should’ve thrown the gift in the Sidra like Cassain did) I can’t believe Rhys isn’t paying Azriel enough that he felt the need to return the necklace to the shop instead of throwing it. Senstive Illyrian baby indeed. 

3- Rhys saying stay away from Elain (can we take a moment to appreciate how sexy Rhys was for pulling rank, he really made the ship more interesting now) and Azriel actually listening to him?? When he told him you can’t order me to do that. shit would be underwhelming if Azriel actually stayed away? Hello? Secret relationship potential ? Hello? Forbidden romance potential  ??? The tropes would be epic. Sjm had never done that. And I’m not saying she will, but this is how I see it playing out. + Azriel saying it was a mistake to Elain, and Elain apologizing?? The fact she was confused/hurt and probably thought she misunderstood the whole situation? SHE IS BABYGIRL?? Regardless, Azriel saying it was a mistake and it being a mistake is NOT it. This is not how romance works most of the time. This is such a basic romantic trope, why are a lot of people misinterepting it? Elain deserves better, and sjm isn’t about to hurt Elain’s feelings without making it up to her. And she’s definitely not making Azriel end up with another girl before he fixes that shit. I will be needing a proper apology to Elain.  

4- Whenever people think of the bonus chapter they weigh in Azriel’s feelings far more than Elain’s. It’s clear that Elain and Azriel’s feelings are MUTUAL, ignore the bonus chapter and it’s right there in the actual book. I don’t think Elain got the memo that Azriel had  a conversation with another girl after he hurt her feelings which made him realize he’s in love all of a sudden. *sarcasm*  that would be very out of character for Azriel. 

5- His chest sparkling at the thought of Gwyn getting the necklace was so??? I have been saying he’s for the streets and yes this was out of pocket. So, I understand people shipping them. However it could mean anything really, you can't continue saying that Gwyn in the bonus has to mean something, and that that spark must mean somethig but continue to disreagrd every single Elriel interaction like they mean nothing. Because for it to be taken as romance we’d have to ignore the beginning of the bonus, the feysand’s bonus acosf/acomaf/acowar and acofas. + we could easily take this in a platonic way, which is how I viewed it when I read the bonus. Not everything has to be romantic. And sjm will NOT introduce a new guy to make him end up with Elain since we already established Elain doesn’t want Lucien and Lucien doesn’t want her either. 

6- I know that a lot of people have theories about Gwyn being a lightsinger and all of this happening because of her powers (While I do think this is very smart, it wasn’t something I thought of so I won’t talk about it). I do think it’s possible, and all the theories I saw were really cool but idk where sjm is going with this, so to make it simple I do think it could be because she’s his student, she went through a lot it could simply be platonic happiness that a girl who went through so much is going to be happy about something. Even if it was a secondhand necklace specifically picked with ANOTHER girl in mind PLUS I do think sjm wanted drama, and for people to doubt elriel cuz now they have all these obstacles, so Gwyn would be the easy choice, but the second choice regardless. The relationship would feel icky and I genuinely cannot see the potential gwynriels keep talking about. I would take the ship a lot more seriously if a) he didn’t regift her another girl’s necklace b) there was more to them in the actual book. c) he wasn’t still upset about it 3 days later… 

7- There’s a high possibility Gwyn never even got the necklace..

He gave it to Clotho not Gwyn, he didn’t want his name mentioned, and then said if any other girl would like it to give it to them: the aim was to get rid of Elain’s necklace. It’s sort of a parallel with Cassain throwing away Nesta’s present.

I think it’s possible that Azriel went there because he knows how much the girls in the library have suffered, especially since his mom did too, it's possible he thought "okay this is a pretty necklace, I don't want to hold onto the reminder of what could've been, so instead of throwing it let another girl be happy about it. At least it won’t go to waste”

Clotho could tell there was something wrong, like maybe she sensed the energy and decided ayeee let me keep this aside for him, he might come back and ask for it. 

The bonus did not happen at the end of the book 

If Azriel was truly in love with Gwyn now /or he wanted her/ or more between them was going to happen/ or they were mates according to some theories we could have AT LEAST gotten more after the bonus. 

We know the bonus happened after solstice.

Nesta mentions that Azriel was stone-faced and more aloof than usual, he wouldn’t even give her a smile. That was 3 days after the necklace situation. I think it would’ve been a great opportunity to highlight any attraction between Azriel and Gwyn.

Maybe he sees the necklace around her neck, maybe Nesta and Emerie compliment Gwyn’s necklace, or Gwyn telling them she doesn’t know who it’s from, maybe they tease her that someone might have a crush on her. Nesta could’ve pointed out that Azriel was looking at Gwyn’s necklace.or looking at Gwyn in some sort of way. Literally anything. 

Anyone pointing out the way Azriel and Gwyn looked at each other. A charged glance perhaps. Literally ANYTHING. We only got him looking at her with admiration which is very teacher coded. 

If sjm hadn’t made Nesta realize Azriel had a thing for Elain then maybe gwnyriel would’ve been more appealing to me. But no, Nesta noticed. This doesn’t mean nothing people.

aside from that we got nothing romantic, but a part of the fandom still acts like we need to exile Elain because she’s coming between Gwyn and Azriel’s epic love story.

Not everyone has access to the bonus.  

The Azriel chapter was only in ONE store in the US, but Feysand’s bonus chapter was in 3 stores in the US and UK. I don't know but something tells me it’s more important.  Soooo if SJM would do a love interest switch she would not do it in a bonus chapter, and wouldn’t be highlighting the Az/Elain interactions in ACOSF as much as she did. 

Feyre’s chapter focuses on Elain, it literally tells us Elain is next once we’re done helping Nesta. EASY MATH. and the Azriel bonus also focuses on elriel/Azriel’s feelings. ENDGAME MATERIAL RIGHT HERE. 

But the girls swear up and down that Gwyn and Azriel’s book is next because of a secondhand necklace. 

Let’s assume elriels are the delusional ones (like so many of them say), how do we explain these. 

Casual readers who usually read books and aren’t on the internet and aren’t looking for bonus content (wish that was me)  (lord knows I skipped every bonus chapter in throne of glass and crescent city and I wasn’t confused about anything. Not even once) so they’d expect answers for 

The Charged glance between Azriel and Elain

Azriel following the sound of Elain’s laughter. 

Elain looking away when Azriel smiled at her during family dinner, Cassian god bless him that idiot could NOT piece all of that together. BUT it was still highlighted through his POV ???

His secret to tell never hers (and we do learn of that secret in the bonus but people who didn’t read it could only guess so they’d want a confirmation) and sjm did say in one of her lives that Nesta learns of one of Azriel’s secrets (she looked all giddy about it)... and that Azriel is going through some shit right now…and we learn why from the bonus chapter. 

Cassian being confused that it seems like Azriel moved on from Mor

Nesta pointing out that Elain moved on from Graysen

Cassian wondering why Elain is lying about where she’s going. (I viewed this as her avoiding Azriel but idk) 

Azriel’s protectiveness of Elain. He gives mate behavior without the mate part. (I will hit him on the head though omg let my girl do something)

Elain willing to look for the troves even when Nesta wasn’t, the girl wants to do something�� (her journey is coming next) 

Nesta wondering if Elain is training with Azriel or the twins (who are spies that were trained by Azriel !!!) 

Feyre telling Azriel that Elain got him beat for secret keeping. Sure it might sound delusional but Elain keeps being compared to Az/being a spy and maybe this could be a thing. 

Elain speaking back to her sisters about them treating her like a child?? Hello finally 

The way Elain’s mother only treated her like a pretty doll which shaped up Elain’s whole life??? I want this from Elain’s POV sooo bad 

In conclusion, we’re not pausing Elain’s story so Azriel can end up with a side character in a spinoff about an og side character, we’re sticking to our og side characters for now.

Azriel being over Mor because of Elain, and Elain moving on from Graysen because of Azriel only for Elain to get over Azriel to be with Lucien (who we got nothing from aside a mating bond..) and for Az to get over Elain and questioning fate for her…only to end up with gwyn…like I don’t think anyone could take Azriel’s feelings seriously if this happens. Shit will be too goofy.  Because if he ends up with Gwyn who says he won’t move on to the next pretty girl he sees afterwards.

To add to that, what plot would we have for Azriel and Gwyn. We'll get more Valkyries training, more healing journey so the plot would have to be paused for this. Nesta’s book was mostly about her healing journey and friendship, while it was nice I don’t want a repeat for the next book. Especially since we know the Rite took a toll on Gwyn, she went back to the library, wasn’t even sure she would make it to Nessian’s mating ceremony. This doesn’t give the protagonist of the next book to me. Or "I thought it was pretty obvious"

Elain’s healing journey had started in ACOWAR, she got her friends in ACOWAR. Now is their TIME to do something!! She is next. 

Closing thoughts on what I think would happen based off each ship happening: 

If elriel happens = new sjm couple dynamic/interesting plot. Fresh sjm protagonist that is unlike sjm's others + we don’t ignore all the foreshadowing and hints. We follow the love triangle we set up in the og trilogy + finally get a rejected mating bond. And instead of warrior training we might get spy training and instead of physical power (as far as we know) we get something more mental. Again this is very new for sjm + there’s a lot to Elain’s power that we don’t know and since Azriel was the one who found out what she was, I think it would make more sense for him to know how to help her. Imagine the sexual tension during training..yes please. I hope sjm doesn’t rob me. Elain is really mysterious, we got Nesta’s inner thoughts before her book but we still haven't gotten a peep about Elain’s inner thoughts and I’m just dying to know more. AND THE STAKES!

1) Rhys forbidding Azriel from Elain, 2) Elain’s mating bond,3) Azriel’s self doubt and how he doesn’t think he’s good enough. 4) The blood duel and the political mess we could get into. (Lucien probs won't but what if Beron would, the breeding potential, A seer must be a powerful thing she can see things others can't and I think that’s valuable. If Eris thought Nesta was valuable as cauldron made and there was no potential there, so The Autumn court probably feels even more entitled to Elain) We have high inner and outer stakes. I have a feeling SJM will fumble all this potential but a girl can dream 

If elucien happens = another successful mating bond + “enemies”  to lovers sort of but they won’t ever be mean to each other so maybe not enemies, just dislike and awkwardness to friends to lovers?  We ignore the hints about a rejected bond and in mating bonds we trust. We also ignore all the elriel hints, and their mutual feelings. We follow the love triangle set up in the og trilogy. I don’t think Lucien could train her in anything? Maybe self defense, Idk Sarah could pull something, but I don’t see Elain leaving her circle of friends but neither do I see Lucien settling in the night court and leaving his own friends. There are no stakes but Elain’s and Lucien’s awkwardness around each other + Elain’s feelings for Azriel. Elain’s and Lucien’s plot connects though so at least there’s that, SJM could ship them off on a mission together and make them get closer. Forced proximity sort of thing. 

If gwynriel happens then = we lost the whole plot, ignored the foreshadowing and hints found in the actual book. Mentor to lovers, civil with each other. Azriel has to move on from Elain first though and that could be icky. Healing journey, more Valkyries training. So we pick up from where we left off in acosf, and we’d see Azriel trying to get her to come out of the Library, or he goes to visit her there until she agrees to come out again. Maybe if Gwyn is a lightsinger then idk more training with Azriel? Again, no stakes but Gwyn’s trauma and Azriel’s self doubt oh and also his feelings for Elain. But that’s it, Gwyn as of now does not connect to the overall plot with the troves (she’s not made therefore she can’t use them) or koschei. So I don’t see us making her go on a mission like that. I’ve seen a lot of gwynriles saying Gwyn has spy potential idk where, but she could barely keep a secret for Nesta so I highly doubt she’d be keeping secrets for the IC. 

Ps: the original koschei plot is 3 sisters marrying 3 very powerful wizards and like idk 3 sisters 3 brothers…we can have a retelling ya know 

[xmalereader]

Joel Miller X Male Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

Authors Note: I caved in….anyways, here is a Joel miller shot that takes place before the apocalypse, more of a Modern AU type and less of clickers and death. Prepare yourselves because this one is a sad one. Also, I officially have a schedule for shots every Monday and Friday so be prepared to have another shot tomorrow! You can find Joel miller Masterlist under the Javier Peña/agent whiskey tab.

Summary: Sarah takes notice of her dads changed behavior along with finding a strange picture at her neighbors house that’ll explain everything as to why her dads actions had changed.

Warnings: Angst, slight fluff, mentions of family, pre-apocalypse, break-ups, fear of rejection, slight mentions of homophobia, takes place in 2003, doubts, guilt, Joel is trying, acceptance.

Word count: 3.1k

—

—

Sarah knew that something was wrong when she arrived home after school. The first thing that she noticed was that the house was clean. She always did the cleaning after coming back home since her dad was rarely home and always working and used the extra time to organize the place. The next thing she noticed was the clean kitchen, not only was it clean but there was a meal ready too, showing that the meal had been eaten and some leftovers were left.

She can’t help but raise a brow in questioning, taking in everything before heading upstairs to her room and leaving her back pack by her desk and stepping back out into the hallway where she finds her dad exiting the bathroom. He was looks up startled at his daughters presence and softly sighs in relief. “Scared the hell out of me.” He huffs out before tussling her hair as he passed by her and asks. “How was school?”

Sarah follows him downstairs. “It was fine—boring like always.” She’s quick to add, jumping down the last step and giving the kitchen another glance. “You cooked and cleaned today.” She points out, getting her dads attention as his eyes roam around the room before clearing his throat. “Yeah, finished work early today and took the time to make some dinner.” His response is quick, walking over to the living room and looking out the window, giving him a nice view of the neighborhood.

His daughter stands behind him, still suspicious by his strange actions. She shakes it off and sighs to herself, ignoring the weird feeling she was getting and joining her dad on the couch as they search for a movie to watch and to keep themselves distracted. She told herself not to worry to much about the strange feeling only for it to return again after two days. Except it’s the weekend and she’s returning from her friends house, stepping inside her house only to see her dad wearing some decent clothes. He’s usually wearing plain shirts and his work pants throughout the day either too lazy to change or perhaps it was his style.

Seeing him dressed differently raised questions. “Going somewhere?” Sarah asks, getting her fathers attention who looks over his shoulder and gives her a soft smile. “Just gonna head out with some folks.”

“Dressed like that?”

Joel frowns, looking down at his own outfit and then back at his daughter. “What? Is it that bad?” He asks while she eyes him up and down, shaking her head. “No—just new…have fun though.” She encouraged with a smile on her face while Joel chuckled. “Your uncle Tommy is coming by to babysit you tonight, I’ll be back at nine.” He promises, kissing her on the forehead and rushing out the door with keys in hand. “Don’t open the door unless—“

“It’s uncle Tommy, I know.” Sarah finished and waved him off. “Go.” She added while Joel gives her another smile and leaves her alone until her uncle arrived. Sarah had spent the night in her room while her uncle lied in the living room couch watching Tv. She taps her fingers against her book and began to think about her fathers strange actions.

It wasn’t until the next day that Joel tells Sarah that he and Tommy would be working late and wouldn’t be home. He had advised her to stay at their neighbors house until he returned so that she wouldn’t be alone. The millers had grown to like their friendly neighbor. He was three years younger than Joel, living by himself and he worked in architect. Y/n always welcomed Sarah into his home on days that Joel would be working late, he’d make her some dinner and also bake her some cookies.

Sarah liked her neighbor and knew that he could probably help her with her situation. It wasn’t until after school that she’s inside Y/n’s house, sitting on dining table and finishing up her homework while Y/n sat across from her, his own work spread out on the table as he worked on the new blueprints for his project.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah finally speaks up. Setting her pencil down and watched as Y/n hums in response, focused on his measurements and drawing out a few lines.

“I think my dads seeing someone.”

Y/n’s pencil snaps, startling the two as he chuckled nervously. “Oops, must’ve gone a little hard on that one.” He laughs softly and sets the pencil aside before clearing his throat. “What makes you think that?” He finally asks.

“I don’t know—he’s just…” Sarah groans. “He’s doing things that he normally doesn’t do and it’s freaking me out.” She whines out.

“Like…?” Y/n raises a brow, urging her to continue.

“He usually doesn’t clean the house, I do that whenever I can. He had a cooked meal ready and he’s going out with friends—which I know he doesn’t really like to socialize and he’s starting to come home early. He’s always late.” Sarah grumbled, crossing her arms on the table and placing her head on top.

Y/n watched the young child sulk as he sighs to himself, moving his work to the side as he sits up straight. “People react in strange ways when they start going out with someone new. These things that he’s doing are examples of change; perhaps this person is making him react differently. I mean, like you said, he’s cooking meals which is something he rarely does along with cleaning and socializing and coming home early. I mean—“ he chuckled. “What if he isn’t seeing someone and just wants to change the way he does thing? A clean home along with a nice meal for his daughter, trying to know new people and extend his friendships, wanting to come back home early to be with his family.” He points out.

Sarah listens to his words and gives a few nods. Understanding why her dad would make changes and perhaps did take notice of current things that needed to change in order to improve his life a little. She kept thinking about her dad that the silence between her and Y/n is cut when Y/n silently asks.

“How would you feel about your dad dating someone?” His eyes focus on his work again, taking his pencil and sharpening it while focusing on the lines. He waits for her response which takes a few seconds for her to speak up. “I don’t know…I’d want him to meet a nice girl who’d make him happy. Someone that I could also get along with too and maybe have a mom again.” She giggled a little at the idea of having a family again. She was focused on the idea of her dad being happy again that she doesn’t notice the sad smile on Y/n’s face.

“That’s—that would be nice for you and Joel.” He said.

The rest of the day is spent with the two finishing up their own work and baking some cookies that Sarah later packs up to take back home. Once the sunset and the neighborhood grew quiet was when Joel finally returned back home from work, knocking on his door to pick up Sarah.

Y/n unlocks his door and gives Joel a smile. “She’s getting her things.” He let’s Joel know and offers him to wait inside while Sarah shoved her things inside her backpack. “Hey dad!” She calls out, zipping up her bag and holding up a ziplock stuffed with cookies. “Y/n made chocolate chip cookies, saved you a few.”

Joel chuckles at Sarah, pulling her close into a hug and kissing her head. “They look delicious.” He snatched the bag from her hands, causing the twelve her old to pout. “Hey!” She tries to take them back from home but he holds the bag away from her reach as she groans, gripping his forearm and trying to pull him down but Joel didn’t pudge.

Y/n laughs at the sight and shakes his head. “Alright, that’s enough you two.” He easily takes the cookies from Joel’s hand and hands them back to Sarah, earning a glare from Joel which he ignores. “Here.” He hands her the ziplock bag and clears his throat. “Uh, Sarah why don’t you head back home? I need to speak to your dad real quick.”

Sarah gives her dad a glance who nods. “Go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.” She gives him a nod and bids Y/n a goodnight before leaving the house. The two adults standing alone in the living room.

“I spoke to Sarah.”

Joel looks up. “About us?” He swallows nervously.

Y/n shakes his head. “No, not really.” He sighs out. “She was worried about you and thought that you’d been going out with someone. I asked her on what her opinion was on you dating.” His back is against the wall, leaning against it.

“What did she say?” Joel takes a small step forward.

“She said that she wanted you to find someone that made you happy along with starting a family again.”

Joel smiles. He didn’t know how Sarah would feel about him dating again after years of being on his own. His daughters happiness always came first and he didn’t want to mess things up. “That’s—“ He looks over at him only to see a hint of sadness in his eyes, causing his own smile to falter.

“Joel, she wants a Mother.”

Joel quickly understand what he was saying. The two had been dating for six months, keeping their relationship a low profile and not letting anyone know. Joel knew how people frowned upon couples who were the same sex, he wasn’t afraid of letting the public know but he was afraid of his own daughters thoughts and what she would say and think about him. He didn’t know if she’d accept the relationship or if she’ll feel comfortable around them. He didn’t know if their bond will be the same if someone else came into their life.

“Your daughter comes first and you know I can’t give her what she wants.” Y/n whispered, pushing himself off the wall and approaching Joel. He watched him carefully as the older man shakes his head, already knowing where this conversation was leading too. “We could tell her.” Joel blurts out.

“I don’t know, Joel.” Y/n sighs, looking down. “I don’t want to be the one who ruins a family. We both already knew how this would end if things didn’t go the way we wanted.” His tone is soft but full of pain. “Joel—“

“Please, don’t say it.” Joel is shaking his head, stepping forward and pulling him close. “We can’t end things like this not after I finally found someone to love again. I won’t just throw everything away and pretend like what we head meant nothing.”

Y/n didn’t want this either but had no choice. He blamed himself for falling in love with a man, less alone with a child he cared deeply about. He too cared for Sarah and sometimes saw her as his own daughter whenever they spent time together but after what she said he couldn’t bare to be the one to change her life. Joel’s daughter came first and knew that wouldn’t change.

He gentle nudged Joel, taking a step back and looking up to him. “We both know what happens after this.” He whispered, giving him a sad smile, holding back tears. “Goodbye, Joel.”

Joel stands frozen, looking into Y/n’s eyes as the other looks away, hiding the pain that lord behind his eyes. Joel wanted to reach out and hold him close in his arms and tell him that he loves him but knew that wouldn’t change things. Instead he gives him one last look and leaves the house, closing the door behind him quietly and making his way back to his own house where Sarah waits sitting in the living room, watching Tv and eating her cookies.

When Joel returned she looked over to him and frowns. “Dad, are you okay?” She stands from her spot and approached him.

“Yeah I’m alright, baby girl.” His response is faint.

“Then why are you crying?”

—

It’s been two weeks since their last conversation. Sarah still stayed at Y/n’s place after school and was picked up by Joel each time he came back home. The first few days of seeing each other again they fake their smiles and feelings from each other. Ignoring the headache that the two have and forcing themselves to continue on. Joel stopped picking up Sarah after the fourth day.

Every night, Y/n would hear the familiar truck engine arrive next door. Signaling Joel’s return from work and letting Y/n know that Sarah is to get back home. He’d help her pack up and would stand outside watching her leave his place and entering safely into her own house. There were only a few times that he caught glimpses of Joel leaving his house early in the morning, getting ready for work. He tried his best to avoid any interactions with Joel, rushing inside his own house whenever he saw the familiar truck approaching. As childish as it sounded he couldn’t face joel.

During the second week he was helping Sarah with a school project, making a board and helping her with gluing different printed out imagines while she did the writing. When Y/n hears the engine he glanced up at the clock, taking notice that Joel always came back home at eight thirty. He sighs to himself and sits up from his spot on the floor. “Alright, kiddo. Time to go home.”

“Awe, we were almost done.”

Y/n chuckled, gathering up her things and placing them inside her folder. “You can finish back at your place, you just have to glue these last few pictures and you’ll be done.” He hands her the folder which contained all of her homework. “Fine.” Sarah puts her things away and smiles widely. “Can I borrow your Walkman while I do homework?”

“You do know that no one uses those anymore?”

“I know but you have good music.”

Y/n rolls his eyes and nods. “Fine, why don’t you go get it in my room while I finish cleaning. It should be on the nightstand next to my bed or in the drawer.” He calls out to her as she rushed upstairs to his bedroom where he kept his Walkman.

Sarah stalks inside the room, still not used to entering places that didn’t belong to her. She approached the nightstand and pulls the drawer open to find the Walkman with no headset. She sets it on his bed and digs around his drawer until she finds the headphones, smiling in triumph as she held them in her hands. She goes back to close the drawer only to take notice of a picture of her dad sticking out from underneath a book.

Her curiosity gets the best of her and slides the photo out. Holding it between her fingers as she looks at the picture to see her dad giving the camera a smile while Y/n stared at her father, recognizing his expression. She quickly tucks the photo away and collects her things while rushing downstairs.

“Did you find it?” Y/n asks, startling Sarah a little while she nods. “Yeah, I found it.” She shows him the Walkman and gets her bag and poster. “Let me walk you out—“

“I’m fine! I gotta finish this quick, goodnight!” She rambled out while slamming the door behind her, leaving a stunned Y/n while she ran back home.

“You alright?” Joel suddenly asks upon seeing his daughter running inside the house frantically, rushing to her room and putting her things away while walking back downstairs to find her dad with raised brows. “You okay?” He asks again, worried about his own daughter.

“I think so.” She opens and closes her mouth. Hesitate to speak as she glanced at her dad who focused on making himself a sandwich. His old habits had come back after two weeks. He was back to his old self which didn’t surprise Sarah. “I asked Y/n if I could borrow his Walkman so, that I could listen to some music while finishing my homework.” She began to say. “I was in his room and found a picture…it was you and him together.”

Joel grows tense, his appetite gone as he pushed the finished sandwich to the side and cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

Sarah nervously approached her dad. “I didn’t think much about it until I saw Y/n’s expression and the way he looked at you. It’s the same look that you used to give mom whenever she smiled or when she’d do something that you liked.” She picked at her nails, looking at her dad every once an awhile. “Did something happen between you two?” Her voice is small.

Joel takes notice and leans against the counter. He didn’t think that she’d find out about them, instead he thought that he’d continue on with life and pretend like his relationship with Y/n meant nothing and that the two never did anything. Now, here he stood in front of his daughter who’s asking about their relationship. He felt guilty from hiding his relationship from his own daughter but had his reasons as to why he was hiding it, afraid of losing his own daughter and ruining the loving bond that he had with her.

“Dad.”

Joel is pulled out of his thoughts, putting his attention on his daughter. “No.”

Sarah frowns at her own dad.

“Then why are you crying?”