#hell yes to block colours

[juiceofmoons]

The thunderous ones have arrived, huh The thunderous ones have arrived, get out of the way

*laughs maniacally*

[akystaracer22]

Maybe in Another Life We Would Hate Each Other a Little Less

A chance encounter sheds a little light on Adam that Lucifer couldn't have predicted, leading to a moment he thought he'd never have with the man.

Notes (Aka my thoughts while writing):

God is a dick and I wanna kill xem

Adam folds his wings like a bird because monkey see monkey do

Both these guys were traumatised by the same person and we don’t talk about it enough

Probably Guitarduck/Adamsapple but in a fledgeling platonic kinda way

Refer to my ref for what Adam looks like!

I listened to Rät while writing this and- it kind of fits Adam???

Jesus is God’s favourite child and it fucking shows

How tf did this become a sickfic????

Lucifer gets the experience of being me whenever I make the impulsive move to boot up Char.ai and talk to literally any of the AI’s, get aunt agonied bitch.

Oh my god Adam has middle child syndrome.

Can you tell I attended a Christian school when I was younger???

Adam was hiding just how fucked over he was from the wing rot but he’s not having a good time in this. Most of the latter half of the oneshot is him dazed from both the one set of wing rot and the feeling of someone touching his wing.

Shit emergency wing HC for Adam ig: His wings grow warmer corresponding to his mood, as in when he is in general happier his wings radiate warmth and when he’s in a foul mood they’re just normal or even a little cooler.

In saying that yes Lucifer’s wings glow when he’s happy

Word Count: 1902

Fic under cut!

“Fucking- Shit!”

Lucifer paused, looking behind him and backing up to peek through the crack in the door. This ought to be good.

Sure enough, he was right, this was entertaining.

Adam was ranting again.

Honestly it was a nearly daily thing by this point, probably the only good thing about his daughters decision to let Adam stay at the hotel. He loved his daughter, he really did, by Adam was… Adam.

Lucifer knew he was a lost cause.

But still, didn’t mean Lucifer couldn’t tease the hell out of the man since he was stuck down here with the rest of them.

Lucifer’s smirk at watching the first man rant quickly died as he took in the guys appearance, he looked…

“What is wrong with your wings.”

Adam jerked and twisted around, scowling at him and oops he said that out loud didn’t he.

“Piss off!”

Lucifer, in his typical fashion, did not piss off and instead entered the room, “No seriously what is wrong with your wings.”

Now that he was closer, the king was certain they didn’t look like that a week ago. The feathers, while already having looked like a wreck were duller and the colours seemed almost… muted. Ignoring the already horrific state Adam’s wing were in, they shouldn’t look THAT bad so why…

“Wait-”

“I said-!”

“Have you not been preening you wings?”

Adam went silent, staring wide eyed at Lucifer much to the kings confusion. A beat passed, then two.

“What the fuck is preening?”

Lucifer blinked, he wasn’t serious, was he?

Surely not.

.

.

.

“By the heavens you’re dead serious.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Lucifer debated whether he should explain it or not. On one hand, it’s Adam. On the other, Wings were a serious thing. He’d even seen Husker cleaning his wings from time to time, for Adam to just not know…

“You know what? For once my hatred of you is outweighed by my need to show you what’s what,” The fallen seraphim huffed, closing the door behind him and summoning a chair to block it from the outside so Adam couldn’t escape. “Come on we’re fixing this travesty.”

“What part of fuck off you do you not understand?!” The first man snapped, his wings mantling as Lucifer rifled through the closet, dragging out one of the many jars of oil he’d had the foresight to put in most of the rooms, perks of being a guy with basic common sense.

“The part where you’re being stupid and my daughter started rubbing off on me,” Lucifer shot back, his own wings serving well to corral Adam towards the bed, “How you don’t know how to preen your wings is beyond me but that’s ending today.”

“Again- what are you blabbering about.”

Lucifer paused, hand hovering just over Adams feathers. Preening someone elses wings was… intimate. It was something reserved for friends, family, lovers, and stuff… not enemies. Was he really going to just go ahead and clean Adams wings for him?

The seraphim’s eyes flicked over to where the ruined wing was draped over the bed. The wing was already in bad enough shape as it was, if he didn’t do this then wing rot was bound to hit it at some point and-

He didn’t really have a choice, not if he didn’t want to watch someone die of wing rot again.

Adam went stiff under Lucifers touch as he started work on the mans functioning wing, it was the easiest to work with, not the mention the safest to start with. The injured wing would no doubt be sensitive to any interaction, so better to start small.

Ish.

Adam shuddered as Lucifer moved between feather’s, periodically reapplying preening oil as he went. He was right as usual, looking closer most of the barbules had been separated and needed to be locked together again. Grimacing, the seraphim gently scratched out what looked like dried blood from where it was hidden in the base of Adam’s Secondary coverts.

“What are you doing?” Adam whispered, his voice for once lacking it’s usual bite. Lucifer paused for a second in confusion before Adam’s wing flexed back into Lucifer’s hand, “Don’t stop!”

“Okay okay!” The king huffed, working on his primaries, “What I’m doing is called preening. It’s something beings with feathers do to clean them.”

“Like birds?”

“Yeah, like birds,” Lucifer agreed, “The oil helps take care of bacteria, but you got to realign the feathers, get rid of the ones ready to moult, and fix the feathers that are out of sorts, though you can just shake the feathers to do that part quicker.”

“Mhm”

Lucifer shifted over to finally tackle the ruined wing and froze, a chill slinking down his spine. As he took in the state of the tattered appendage.

“Shit.”

This close the seraphim could see the red pimples under the thinning layer of feathers surrounding the injury, it was wing rot in its early stages.

“What?”

“Nothing!” Lucifer dove his fingers into the scapulars to shut Adam up while he discreetly conjured up some disinfectant for the rot, if he’s lucky he can treat it now and just get Charlie or Vaggie to deal with it now, knock it over the head before it becomes so visible the others can notice. He ignored Adam’s breath hitching as the seraphim started, just as predicted, the wing was sensitive from the damage done to it.

“But seriously you need to do this more, this is just horrific,” Lucifer grumbled to himself, not really caring if Adam listened, “Honestly I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to you before!”

“Mmmm tried once… I think?”

Lucifer, glanced at Adam’s face, it was pointed away from him, but he could still sense Adam’s attention was on him, “Yeah?”

“Saw the birds doin’ it and tried to copy ‘em,” Adam continued at the prompt, spreading his other wing, “It hurt so I stopped, didn’ know there was a method to this shit or someth’n.”

“You… nobody even tried to teach you?”

“I think they thought I knew,” Adam chuckled sourly, “I think they thought I fu’kin knew how to just- do this. ‘Cause I was meant to right?!” Another laugh, “I bit the fu’kin apple so I shou’da known this kinda shit! Apple of knowl’dge or what’ver.”

Lucifer, wisely, didn’t say anything, he just kept working on Adam’s ruined wing, applying the disinfectant, and fixing what few feathers were still healthy and removing the rest. If it was anyone else in this situation he’s wrap the wing and tell them to rest but… it was still Adam that was in this mess.

“I- why didn’t they teach me? Luci why didn’t they teach me this shit?”

“I… don’t know,” Lucifer replied carefully, deliberately skipping over the butchering of his name that sounded way to close to a nickname for comfort, “Come on, up you get he still got the underside to finish then I’ll be out.”

Adam grumbled but complied, sitting up a little to turn around as Lucifer summoned a pillow for Adam to lean back on. Rolling his neck Lucifer got to work on the auxiliary feathers, the lighter feathers were definitely in better shape, but then again that wasn’t exactly a high bar, and they still were looking rough.

“Jesus was prob’bly taught how to preen himself.”

Lucifer’s shoulders hitched as his wings tucked in against his back abruptly. Jesus… was a rough topic. For all sinners talked about him, Lucifer never met him but from the sinners around that time… it was never a fun conversation. Pretentious once kings cursing his name while hopeless commoners lined up for the exorcists blade, faithful until the end that Jesus would let them into heaven if they just believed in him.

… there was a pattern in there, wasn’t there. Like father like son, he supposed.

“Jesus was made from me and yet he’s God’s favourite fukin kid, course he’d fucking know how to preen,” Adam continued unimpeded, “Doesn’t matter if I was Gods first- Jesus was always fucking better than me.”

Okay! Lucifer was in no way prepared for this conversation, but he highly doubted Adam was even going to remember this conversation, so he just focused on the wings.

“…Luci, do they all hate me?”

Lucifer sincerely wished Anthony, or just anyone really would bust down the door at this moment, at least then he could get himself out of this conversation.

“Why do you think that?” the seraphim deflected, moving onto Adam’s good wing and going through his coverts.

“Because none of them ever fucking did this,” Adam waved his hand haphazardly before letting it rest on his chest, “You’re my enemy but you’re fixin’ my fu’kin wings because I’m too stupid and useless to just figure it out myself.”

“Not useless,” The words left Lucifer’s lips without his input, damn himself to double hell, but it managed to shut up Adam, so he kept on the thought train, “You’re not useless you were just never taught, it’s not your fault heaven doesn’t think.”

“Jesus-”

“Is God’s prodigal son and shouldn’t be counted.”

Adam huffed and leaned back on the pillow, “Why’re you good at this?”

“I’ve had aeon’s to learn, and over a decade of putting it in practice,” Lucifer thought about his daughter, a small smile making it’s way into his expression, she really was the best thing to happen to him.

He finished up with Adams good wing and moved onto finishing off the wrecked one. Applying the disinfectant to the infected spots on the underside before reaching for the preening oil again.

“Y’know, maybe in another life we would’ve hated each other less.”

Lucifer just laughed and started preening the wing, yeah right, maybe in a reality where the apple incident never happened, “You’re sick Adam, feverish even.”

“And you’re a wife-stealer.”

“Should have been better in bed.”

“Fuck you,”

Lucifer stuck his tongue out at the first man, earning a tired chuckle. Then the seraphim blinked at the sudden warmth radiating out from the feathers. What in the-?

“Oh… they haven’t done that in a while.”

Lucifer blinked up at Adam who was staring at his feathers in amazement, “Ackde-whuh?”

Adam leaned back and closed his eyes, “Yeah… sometimes they just get warm all of a sudden it’s weird. Hasn’t happened in a while though. Apparently it sometimes happened when Lute was around? I dunno why.”

Lucifer blinked a couple of times before letting out a small “huh” and running a hand through the ruined wing, it was definitely warmer.

Sighing, Lucifer let his hand fall away despite the wing chasing it, “Alright well your wings are definitely cleaner now, so I’ll be out of your hair now.”

The seraphim stood up to leave through the balcony, opening the window and almost stepping out when Adam called after him, still sounding exhausted.

“I can see why they left me for you.”

Lucifer paused, before smiling sardonically and looking back at Adam, who looked like he might have just passed out.

“Tell me that when you’re not delusional from illness and I might believe you.”

With that, Lucifer stepped out and left for his own room… though, if Adam woke up to a small plush duck on his nightstand, that was between Lucifer and the god that cast him down.

But there is one thing Lucifer will admit.

Maybe Charlie wasn't wrong about thinking Adam could be redeemed.

Pings:

@sleepy-hijinx @whatataha @cyborg0109 @birbisanon @legogator @overlord-rey @luckyburgerz @spiny-dogfishes @justakidicarus

[cheeeeseburger]

Text me first and I'll definitely text you back

Lando Norris x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes! Enjoy!

It was 1 am, and you could not sleep. LIke at all. Your room was too hot, too stuffy, but also too cold at the same time. Your bed felt empty. To pass time, you were scrolling on your phone, when suddenly a perfect distraction popped up. It was a notification from your ex, Lando Norris. You two hadn’t talked in a hot minute.

Hey

I thought I had blocked you

Guess not

Too bad

I heard you broke up with that other guy

Yeah lol

He seemed nice tho.

Why do you care??? You didn’t even know him

Relax, I just wanted to check up on you

Well, reminding me of how great my ex was is a great way too do it, dumbass

Why are you so fucking rude to me? You’re nice to everyone

Don’t worry, all my exes get the same treatment, you’re not special xoxo

Wow ok.

Glad to see we’re on the same page!

I don’t think we are tho

What do you mean?

Idk why you’re treating me like shit

Huh? Probably cause we’re not together anymore?

You used to be so nice to me before

Are you drunk or something? Maybe high?

No?

Then why are you not getting that I’m not going to be as loving, because we BROKE UP!

You’re so mean, I don’t recognize you

Cry about it with Jay

Who tf is Jay?

The guy I just broke up with

Oh ok. Did you change your hair colour because of it?

Yeah, it’s my post break-up look.

It looks bad.

Omg, you’re calling me rude? You’re so fck rude.

Sorry, but you should go back to the colour you had when we were dating

Did you just text me at 1 am to hate on my hair? Bitch

No

If you think I’m desperate for rebound sex and I’ll fall right into your bed, you’re dreaming buddy.

I just wanted to talk to you, but I don’t even know why I bother

Idk why either tbh

Do you not want to talk to me ever again?

I mean, that was the plan lol

The two years we shared together mean nothing?

They used to, yeah. That’s called moving on.

Just like you’re going to do to that guy?

Yes. If it makes you feel better, I still sleep with your hoodie sometimes, while I threw all his stuff out.

You do? That’s cute

Don’t get any ideas. I also still have the hoodie of my boyfriend before you

Wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special

Hey, you texted me first. Idk what you expected

I expected you to be nice to me. You used to be so sweet

Don’t worry, the other guys still find me sweet xoxo

I’m so sick of your attitude. Are you trying to make me jealous or something? Or do you just like to be a bitch to me?

You’re the mean one, actually.

I think I will block you.

Do it, pussy

I don’t ever want to talk to you again

Ok wait, no. I’m sorry, Lando. For real

Thank you, finally.

I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but would you like to grab lunch sometime? Or coffee?

Damn, ok. I did not expect that

It’s fine if you don’t want to

No, no. I want to. What about that dinner that we used to go to? Next Thursday?

Good location, can it be Thursday in two weeks tho? I want to have time to change my hair colour lmao

Okay. I’ll see you there at 12?

See you there, Lando.

Goodnight, sweet dreams

What the hell was that?

Two weeks later, your nerves were about to be the death of you. You were pacing your bedroom, frantically picking the perfect outfit. How do you dress to impress your ex you’re sure you’re going to fall right back for? You finally ended up chosing a cute dress that gave you a great silhouette.

Little did you know, Lando was doing the same, trying to find a shirt that would make him look good for you. He really wanted to make a good impression. This was kind of an interview, and he was applying for the role of the ex-boyfriend that you want to get back with.

When you entered the dinner, the déjà vu was overwhelming. Lando was already sitting at the booth that used to be your booth, the one where you first kissed, the one where he used to let his hand slide underneath your dress. You had worn a dress with that very same memory in mind.

“Hi.” You gave him a warm smile. Gosh, he looked good. He got up to give you a small hug. He smelled even better than you remembered. He seemed to think you looked nice to, judging from his eyes that looked you up and down and his slight blush.

“Hey. You look gorgeous.” He immediately noticed your hair that you had dyed back to the colour he preferred.

“You look good too, Lando. Great, even.” He seemed pleased at your comment.

“No trouble finding the place, I hope?” You laughed at his joke and you both sat down on opposite sides of the booth.

“Don’t worry, even though you did not pick me up, we’ve been here enough that I remember the directions by heart.” You stuck your tongue at him.

“I can pick you up, next time.” His eyes were full of hope.

“Next time?” This time, it was your voice that was full of hope.

The waitress interrupted you to give you the menus. You shared a knowing smile with Lando.

“Is it still a Caesar salad for you? With a side of fries?”

“And a burger for you?” You two laughed.

“It seems like things are still the same, huh?” You rested your head on your hand to give him a dreamy look.

“They haven’t changed at all, no.” He grabbed your other hand to put it in his on the table. You felt sparks at the tip of your fingers, but they quickly moved all over your body. This was going way more smoothly than you had expected. The waitress went over to note your order, and you couldn’t help but to feel thrilled at the familiarity of it all.

“So, how have you been?” Lando asked.

“Good, good, you?” Small talk was usually difficult, but it was horrible when it was with your ex.

“Good too.” Oh no, you were not about to spend the entirety of your lunch date with basic questions.

“Listen, Lando. I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was rude for no reason, and I’m sorry.” He rubbed little circles on your hand with his thumb.

“It’s fine, really. I wasn’t so nice either.” He laughed in embarrassment, but you just smiled at him.

“So, we’re good then?” You really hoped you were.

“We are good.” You shook his hand to seal the deal. The handshake hid a thousand more meanings than just “we’re good”. It was filled with “I’m glad we’re seeing each other again” and “why did we ever stop?”. The waitress brought your food, and you ate in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the moment.

“We should get ice cream after that,” You suggested shyly. Getting ice cream was code for “I don’t want this date to stop yet”.

“That was always the plan. I’m not a cheap date.” You laughed at him.

“It would be a crime to eat here without getting ice cream after. It was our tradition when we dated, remember?” He smiled at you.

“Of course, I remember. I also remember what came after.” You instantly blushed. A typical date for you and Lando always ended in his bed.

You finished eating. Lando picked up the bill, as usual.

“Thank you for paying, Lando. You know that it can be my turn to pay sometimes?”

“Nonsense. I’m trying to impress you. Is it working?” He smirked.

“Yeah, it’s working, baby. A little too well.” You flushed, because the word baby had slipped off your tongue so easily that you didn’t notice until you saw his face. He was clearly happy to see you using it again. When he put his hand in the small of your back to guide you towards the exit, you didn’t say anything. And when you walked towards the ice cream shop and your hands brushed, you put yours in his.

“I’m going to have a small chocolate sundae please, and he’ll have a large caramel sundae. Thank you!” You ordered the ice cream, once again remembering what you two always get.

“I’m happy that we’re out here together again,” said Lando, in a moment of vulnerability. You could not resist any longer. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. The kiss was sweeter than the ice cream you were about to eat. “Me too, baby. So damn happy,” you replied as you pulled away, blushing. The smile he gave you made you want to kiss him again a thousand times.

You sat near a window to enjoy your sundaes. Lando looked positively jealous of your spoon. When it was time to leave, he put your hand in his.

“I had a great time today,” he said, outside of the shop.

“Me too. Do you think we could do it again?” You asked shyly.

“Anytime.” You got on your tiptoes to lock your arms behind his neck and to kiss him. You two must have looked adorable to anyone passing by. This kiss felt exactly like the first one you and Lando shared, when you first started seeing each other. When you got back to your feet, he tucked away a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“I like your hair.”

“Thanks. I changed it because of you,” you replied, laughing.

“You shouldn’t have. I was just mad, the other night. You looked beautiful then too.” You looked away, embarrassed at his compliment.

“I guess I better go, then.” He immediately protested. “No don’t go yet. We can go back to my place if you’d like. Or we can just grab coffee if you prefer!” It was cute to see him rambling.

You kissed him on the cheek. “Your place is more than fine, baby.” Lando gave you a huge smile and took your hand to guide you towards his car.

“I’m glad you’re coming home with me. It’s what I was hoping for,” he said as he was opening your car door for you.

“Me too, baby. We can pick up my car tomorrow morning.” He winked at you.

“Or the next day. Or the day after.” What a flirt.

You were probably not going to stay single for very long.

[storiesfromafan]

A/N: Hi everyone, been a little while. I have been working on various stories in an attempt to break the writers block. Finally finished something, though I'm not 100% on how I feel about it. Hope you enjoy.

Mattheo x Fem!Reader

Spin The Bottle

How the Hell did you get here, starring down at an empty glass bottle. Which was pointed at you, and on the other end was none other than Mattheo ‘God’s gift to every Hogwarts girl’ Riddle. That pointed, smouldering gaze boring into you, making you want to slink back to oblivion.

Ah yes, good old days where you weren’t on anyone’s radar. Not even Mattheo fricken Riddles radar. The bliss of not being notice, blending into the students around. Free of social queues, or being social in general besides you’re few friends. It was such a nice existence, and this past month you began to miss it.

But like every teen girl, towards the end of fifth year, you began to feel a bit restless. The need to feel pretty, to be seen by the opposite sex as something to desire. So, during the break you had taken a trip with your parents to Paris to visit family. While there you sort out advice from your older female cousins. They were beautiful, graceful and everything you wanted to be. They took you under their wings. Guided you, and made you over.

So, when it came time to gather on Platform 9¾ and head back to Hogwarts for sixth year, you were nervous but excited. Joyous but also filled with dread. For the invisible nerdy girl finally took off her glasses and used contacts. No longer boxed in by framing bangs, now they are slowly growing out. Along with the growing out your bangs you had ditched tying your hair up every day, instead letting your (colour) locks flow over your shoulders in soft curls, all thanks to your cousins and their tips. Finally, your frumpy clothes were gone, replaced with more fitted and fashionable ones.

Your sixth year was your fresh start. New year, new you. That’s what you told yourself. Unfortunately, your lack of social queues made you oblivious to notice all the eyes that saw and followed you. You were the shiny new penny, with a gleam catching everyone’s eye. Including the Syltherin heart throb that’s gaze was currently all you could notice.

Now back to the question at hand; how the Hell did you get here. Chalk it up to teen insecurities, some ambition and lack of male attention. That’s how you got here. Along with your friends pestering you to finally go to a Slytherin House party. They had begged, no pleaded with you. And reluctantly you gave in. Though a small part was intrigued. The stories over the years of House parties always piqued your interest. And going from an ugly duckling to a beautiful Swan made you think you should go. But you did not expect to play spin the bottle, nor have Mattheo land on you!

The boy should be outlawed for being so good looking, as well as charming and over all dangerous to the female population! And just like all the other girls, you had a small crush on the guy. But what female student didn’t? And if they said they didn’t, they are lying. For Mattheo was every girl’s type. All girls like a bad boy, and Mattheo was the definition of bad. He had the looks, the attitude, smokes, drinks, skips class, pulls pranks...you get my drift. Mattheo was the bad boy every girl wanted to save, or sacrifice themselves in the process.

“It’s you” Ella, one of your friends whispered nudging you.

Her words brought you back to reality, which also made time seem to return to normal. Releasing the breath you had been holding you looked to the bottle and then back to the Slytherin before you. Now came the time for the game to claim your first kiss, and with Mattheo.

Shakily you moved to your knees and moved to lean over the bottle, Mattheo following your movements. You both met over the bottle. He looked into your eyes, which no doubt showed how frazzled you were. A soft, sweet smile formed on his lips, which seemed to settle your nerves.

“Eyes on me” Mattheo said softly. “Forget everyone else, it’s just you and me...”

With some ease in your eyes and body, Mattheo didn’t wait for that spell to break, for he was the one to close the distance. The feel of his soft lips against yours brought you back to reality. Mattheo Riddle was kissing you! (First name) (Last name) were locking lips with the most crushed on male in your year, no school!

Slowly Mattheo moved his lips against yours, his tongue coming out to run along your bottom lip. Your body stiffened. First your first kiss, and now your first French kiss he wants to take!? Who did he think he was?

Noticing your hesitance, Mattheo pulled back and looked at you with questioning eyes. He hadn’t forced his tongue into your mouth, nor did he take your first French kiss. Part of your heart skipped a beat at how the bad boy had some gentleman in him. The ohhhs around you both brought you back to the present. You had just kissed Mattheo. In front of a group of your peers.

Feeling the heat in your cheeks, you averted your eyes while moving back to your spot. But before you took your turn you decided to make a quick exit. You couldn’t play on. You shouldn’t have played in the first place! Some groaned and protested of your choice to leave. But Ella saying she’d spin instead helped ease those around you.

It didn’t entirely matter to you. You were a mixed bag of thoughts and emotions. Escaping the party, which was in fine form, you headed to a bathroom. You need a moment of as much silence you can get so you could sort yourself out. Once in the nearest bathroom, you turned on the tap at the sink. Cupping the cold water you were about to splash your face but stopped, you remembered the make up you wore. Instead you let your hands cool before placing the cool, wet hands on the back and around your neck.

‘I’m an idiot!’ you thought with a groan, as reality sunk in.

After kissing Mattheo you practically ran from the circle of your peers. Who does that? No one had ever done that before. You knew that because there has never been any gossip of someone kissing and running. Until now. You will be the talk of the school. How pathetic you are to kiss the schools heart throb and then run away like a baby.

Then you replayed the kiss in your mind. Mattheo had been gentle, and not forceful. From the way other girls talk about him, he was meant to be some scoundrel that takes what he wants, but does it in a way that makes you want more. He might be a bad boy, but he still was respectful. You touched your lips with your fingers. It was a perfect first kiss. You smiled at that. Only for it to fall knowing you’d had ruined your chance by taking off like a spooked animal.

‘Good job’ you scolded yourself, looking at your reflection. “Just perfect” you huffed.

“You or the kiss?” Came a curious voice behind you, making you turn around and clutch the sink behind you.

Upon turning around you were greeted by the boy on your mind, Mattheo Riddle. He gave you a soft smile placing his hands in his pockets.

“Personally, I think both are perfect” his voice was soft and slightly echoed against the walls.

It took a few minutes before his words sunk in. Mattheo Riddle just said not only was your kiss perfect, so are you. No doubt the look on your face marked with confusion and some horror. He thought you to be perfect. Was he crazy? Possibly. Or was this some big joke? More likely.

“I...I don’t understand...” You said in disbelief. “I’m far from perfect...”

Mattheo gave a soft, genuine smile. “I think you are”. He slowly moves across the bathroom. “I think your caring, smart, thoughtful, attentive, adorably cute...and that was all before your change”.

He stopped before you as he finished his words. Once again you were floored. Mattheo has noticed you all along! He saw you when you thought you were invisible, or rather thought you were invisible. You always thought your friends, some of your house mates and teachers always saw you. You had only became visible when in your first broom riding class in first year when you fell off your broom while a few meters off the ground. Also the numerous times you had been a klutz and fallen down staircases, quiet ungraceful too. Being uncoordinated and smart, every mistake or accident got your peers laughing at you.

“I-I don’t understand” you said softly. “You noticed me before?” You asked, needing an explanation.

Mattheo brought his hand up and moved a bit of hair out of your face. “It’s hard not to when you were the first person I encountered on the train in first year. You were all alone in a carriage. Dressed like a boy with crazy hair” he chuckled.

A light bulb went off in your mind. How had you forgotten that moment? He had asked if he could share the carriage, and you had meekly said yes. You both sat quietly, studying the other. Finally Mattheo took the initiative to talk, though he had been rude. After seeing you jump, he realised you were nervous, maybe a bit scared.

“First time away from home?” He had asked with a sigh.

You nodded your head watching him with big (E/C) eyes.

“It’s like that” he offered with a softer tone of voice. “Your parents were sad to watch you go. But they were just like you, leaving their family to go to Hogwarts”.

Once again you nodded your head, but slowly.

“Look at it like this, you’re on an adventure” he sat back further with a genuine smile. “Every moment away from home you are learning, exploring and making memories, all stories to tell your parents when you see them”.

Mattheo had shown a moment of kindness to you. But looking back over the years there were other times he had been kind to you. From opening a door and letting you enter first, to helping take potion ingredients that are too high on a shelf down for you, to stopping you from falling into the lake a few times when students had tried to push you in. Mattheo Riddle had always noticed you and had been so kind.

“You were always kind to me...” You said slightly dumbfounded.

Mattheo playfully rolled his eyes. “Don’t let everyone hear you say that. I have a bad boy rep to keep intact”.

You laughed at his words. “Sorry, I won’t go broadcasting it”. Mattheo then laughed.

Once you both stopped laughed, you both looked at each other. You took this time to study the boy before you. He had changed so much since first year. He was cute back then but now he was handsome. Much taller now, you had to tilt your head up to look at the male before you. His gorgeous brown eyes shining with humour and delight, a rare sight to be seen, as they usually show coldness and boredom.

“You’ve changed so much since the tomboy with crazy hair” Mattheo chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “shut up” you chuckled playfully pushing him.

Before you could retract your hand, Mattheo reaches out and took your hand in his. Watching you closely he brought your hand to his lips, leaving a chaste kiss to your knuckles. You felt your breath hitch at his ministrations. He was being charming, like he would with many other girls, but with you it was real.

“I didn’t mind the tomboy you. Nor did I mind the frumpy, nerdy look you had going” Mattheo stated, thumb caressing the back of your hand that was still in his hold. “But I would be lying if I said I didn’t like your new look. I want you to know I have always like you, the you on the inside”.

If your brain was working you would have either melted, knees would have gone week at his confession and actions. He was making it hard not to fall head over heels for the boy before you. Than you asked yourself why he followed you? Why he has said what he has?

“Why? W-why tell me this now...” You thought out loud.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mattheo asked. “I thought I was being apparent, and I thought you were smart” he joked. “(Y/N/N), I like you”.

You were shocked. The school bad boy just admitted to liking you. And possibly liked you for sometime. Any girl would swoon and kiss Mattheo for such a confession. But you weren’t like those girls. You pulled back your hand and moved away from Mattheo, thinking of running from the room. Running was something you liked to do recently.

“Where are you going?” He asked watching you with slight worry but a lot of hilarity. “Going to run away again? Might have to call you Cinderella”.

You stopped and shot Mattheo a dirty look. “I’m not like Cinderella”.

“Yes you are, you ran after we kissed” he stated matter-of-factly walking towards you.

“I-I” you spluttered trying to figure out what to say as you move backwards, Mattheo moving with you.

Feeling your back coming in contact with a wall, you jumped. Mattheo taking no time, placing a hand on either side of your head blocking you in.

“No running away this time Cinderella” he said softly, holding your gaze with his deep brown eyes.

Seeing as you weren’t going to speak, or run, Mattheo moved his left hand to caress your cheek. The contact made you jump, but the soft movement slowly soothing you.

“I serious (Y/N/N). I like you. Past, present and future” his words held sincerity that made your heart flutter. “And I hope I’m part of that future...”

Mattheo’s words left you speechless. You had never heard him speak so much to you, let alone hear how much depth he had in him. The Hogwarts bad boy, Slytherin heart throb was opening up to you. Mattheo Riddle likes you. The ugly duckling, turned beautiful Swan, as stated by your friends.

“Are you going to say anything?” Mattheo asked, fear leaking into his voice. He of all people was the last you’d think to be self conscious.

Snapping out of it, you stood up straighter. “I like you!” You blurted out not thinking. Once realising what you just did you groaned and hung your head.

Mattheo started to laugh, but it wasn’t malicious. It was hearty and warm. As his laugh died down, Mattheo lifted your head up. He looked you in the eyes, nothing but warmth and joy in his eyes.

“You are too cute love” he said softly. “And I’m glad you like me back”.

You smiled threw your embarrassment. Before you could say anything, or try to say anything, Mattheo took the opportunity to capture your lips. Shocked you tensed up, but feeling him lace his fingers in your hair relaxed you. He was soft, tender with you. But then his tongue ran along your bottom lip, causing you to jump a little again.

Pulling back Mattheo looked at you reassuringly. “It’s alright love, no rush”.

Mattheo took you into his arms and held you close. You rest your head against his chest, muttering sweet things in your ear.

Unfortunately that was the moment a few girls walked into the bathroom, and came across you both. You all looked at each other, before you felt your face heat up and you pushed Mattheo away. Not waiting for him or the girls to speak, you took off out of the bathroom. Without skipping a beat, Mattheo took off after you and the girls found themselves giggling at what they walked into, or what they could have walked in on. If Mattheo’s reputation was correct.

Feeling a tad humiliated you didn’t listen to Mattheo and his calls to slow down or stop. You had decided you were done for the night. And hoped tomorrow’s gossip mill isn’t about you.

A/N: as always, happy for feedback :)

[bougiebutchbitch]

NGL I do find it funny that the side of the fandom yelling “if you’re uncomfortable with the way Con showed up to a livestream with his whole bulge on prominent display you’re homophobic” is the same side of the fandom that was harboring multiple sexual predators lol throwback to the Canyon Kink Camp!! Anyway shoutout to the canyon for knowing how to be normal about people’s boundaries <3

I notice you sending this message to multiple people. On anon. Smells like teen cowardice.

So, first off -

You are lying through your teeth.

Victims of two sexual predators came forwards... and those sexual predators were immediately thrown out of the canyon. They were blocked/black-listed everywhere and deactivated! Explain to me how that is 'harbouring'?

Some weirdo also started harassing the victims because they were a friend of the perpetrators. They were...... also....... mass blocked and lost all their popularity, as far as I'm aware (I don't actually know that person, and am not on Twitter, etc.)???

Sexual predators will show up literally anywhere in society - including in your precious fandom spaces. Pretending that your half of the fandom is 'pure' and 'perfect' is, in fact, far more dangerous than acknowledging that there were predators, and dealing with them.

Especially when the antis were the ones crowing that people like me, who are abuse and rape survivors IRL, had 'no idea what abuse/rape looks like', and still are making claims like that in the tags - as well as sending asks accusing us of lying about our trauma.

All because we like a fictional character who you hate.

As for Con showing up in his underwear...

Literally nothing was showing.

You saw the SHAPE of a bulge. It was no more revealing than Tom Hiddleston's Loki outfit, and there have been uncensored gifs of that flying around willy-nilly (pun intended) for years without anyone being Shocked and Disgusted about it.

If you're not bothered by men being in underwear when you go to the beach and see guys rocking a budgie smuggler, but you're throwing a massive stink about a queer man being in his underwear on a ticketed show that was always marked as Explicit, and using it as an excuse to call him a sexual predator, I honestly don't know what to say to you.

Boundaries are real and important.

But if you went to an explicit stream and saw something mildly suggestive there, and proceed to accuse a queer man of being a sexual predator... You are the problem.

And yes, you are a homophobe.

Even if you are queer yourself, you are contributing to the dangerous rising current of accusing queer people of being 'degenerate' and 'perverse' for merely existing, because - oh, think of the children.

And that's without mentioning that Con is a vocal supporter of trans kids in the UK. We all know how queer people who dare to support trans people are unjustly painted as predators. It's happening on Tumblr, with the mass reporting and banning of trans men and women for 'inappropriate content' that is no more explicit than what cishet people have on their blogs. It's happening all over the world.

Hell, all profits from Con's livestream went to Mermaids (UK charity for trans folx) and true colours united (homeless lgbt youth charity).

Take a good long look at your argument. Take a good long look at the current political climate for queer people. Ask yourself who your insistence that Con is sexually inappropriate for... wearing underwear, is really helping.

If you feel this unsafe around even the vaguest suggestion of genitalia, the onus is on you to avoid any streams where you might encounter it. You're no different than people who read Explicit-marked work on AO3 and leave hatemail for the authors because you encountered smut.

[bts-0t-7]

So What? | MYG | Chapter 2

Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader 

Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au

Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse

WC: 2.1K

Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @rkivemaar

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Three days passed with the same and the schedule between the both of you remains the same. The black cat - you should really start to come out with a name for it - will only come out from the sofa when you feed it, never allowing you to pet it and only starting to eat when you turn away. But you started to get worried. Its fur was matted in blood and you were afraid that it had sustained severe injuries. You wanted to give it a bath to see how bad the injuries were but it was extremely on edge. 

You sighed. Your work shift starts in over an hour and you still need to travel down. You left your room and prepared a big bowl of food and water, placing it at the edge of the sofa. 

“I’m going to go work now, kitty. Don’t eat everything for lunch. Keep some for dinner. I’ll be back before midnight.” You waited to see or hear any response from it but, nothing. You didn’t know what to expect - honestly. 

Your keys clanged against each other as you opened the gate and wore your shoes. “Bye, kitty!” You called out one last time as you hastily locked the gates. 

08 33.

You were going to be so, so late. “Damn it.” You looked at your watch. “Never mind.”

You were going to be late, might as well be late. Right? You ran down the block and unlocked your car. Normally your car sits in the parking lot as you prefer the public transport. However, you can’t afford to be late today. There were important events held today and you need to supply them with the necessities before and during the events. 

You drove as fast as the speed limit allows and managed to reach the shop just in time - spare a minute. 

“Y/N! Good, you’re here.” Your boss exclaimed. “You put everything down first and help pack the cart.”

“With the boxes?” You pointed to the cardboard boxes that were strewn across the floor. He nodded. “Which ones?” You started opening every box to peek inside. “And this cart is for which event?”

Your boss helped you carry the correct boxes to wrap, saying, “This one is for the company event. I think it’s called Furman or something.”

You nodded. “I have no idea what that is.” The both of you burst out laughing. “Normal, eh?” 

The both of you worked together in sync and the things were wrapped, packed, and ready to go. 

“What time does the driver come?” You asked as you sat down on the nearest chair. It was only 10 00 and you were already tired. 

Your boss looked up from his phone and said, “In five minutes. Peng just texted and said he will be reaching soon.” You nodded, getting up from the seats. 

The whole day went by as usual - aching arms, spilling coffee and milk, carrying boxes, serving nasty customers, the list goes on. But today, you were more than happy to go home for a whole new reason. You packed up faster than usual and cleaned up like a speeding train, all to go home earlier to see your cat. 

Well, he wasn’t exactly your cat to say.

What the hell do I call him?

Bringing your bag out of the storage room, you turned to ask your boss, “What is a nice name for a male cat but not generic?” 

“That’s a rather random question?” He looked up from behind the cashier. 

“Come on, please? I wanna go home already.” You whined. “I just need some ideas.”

He scratched his chin. “Did you get a cat?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm… Maybe Cookies? Or you can try… What is its fur colour?”

“Erm, black?” Your reply was as if it was a question.

“Blackie? Stormy? Burnt?” He shrugged.

“Hmm, alright thanks.” You scurried out of the shop. “Gotta go, bye!”

You ran for the car park at the back of the building where the store was located and quickly got in. Turning on the engine, you thanked the gods that the roads were fairly empty today, allowing you to reach home earlier than usual. You parked in the multi-story car park where it is sheltered and decided to head over to the nearest supermarket to get some food. 

You headed over to the cat food section, picking out a bag of new kibbles and can food. Then, you gravitated over to the vegetables and meat, chicken, and beef. Maybe some seasoning and a tad bit too many crackers. 

You paid for the groceries and headed up to your block, struggling to grab your keys as you reached your level. You opened your door and ran to the kitchen, putting everything down before rushing back to close the gates. You turned on the lights and started to pack everything into their respective places on the shelves. 

Heading over to the bowls that you have left out for kitty, you spotted that there were only a few kibbles he didn’t finish. You tossed those out and gave them a good wash, placing them on the rack to dry overnight. 

You turned off the lights and cautiously headed to your room, hoping that all the noise you made had not yet woken the sleeping cat under your sofa. But when you stepped into your room, oh, you were so wrong. 

Kitty was indeed asleep but not under the sofa. It hissed at the sudden attack of light that you switched on, scurrying to your pillow’s snout first. 

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t know you were there. I thought you were sleeping under the sofa.” You dimmed the lights and headed to the closet, walking over to your bathroom from the connection point there. 

Yoongi could hear the water running down the shower room from where he was laying on your bed. He was just about to fall back asleep when you picked him up, making him hiss at the sudden contact. Trying to pry your hands away by lightly scratching you didn’t seem to phase you at all. 

Where are you taking me? PUT ME DOWN! I SAID, PUT ME D - 

“If you want to sleep in my bed, you are going to take a bath first.” You announced, bringing him to the bathtub which you have already filled up with water. 

NO, NO, NO. I DON’T WANT TO BATHE! I WANT TO SLEEP!

You slowly placed him down into the water and he hissed, not wanting to be washed. He sloshed around in the water, attempting to get out but your grip on him was too tight. 

“Come on, kitty. I’ll leave you alone later if you are willing to let me bathe you now.”

Fine. 

So Yoongi floated there, let you wash him up, blow dry his fur, coo over how soft his fur now is, and check his injuries. When he had gotten enough attention, he jumped off the countertop of the basin and trotted back to the pillows with a meow. Letting you close enough was already pushing his instincts, he wanted to rest now and that was exactly what he was going to do. 

Yoongi heard you sigh from the washroom and started to clean things up. He didn’t last too long with the warm pillows and your scent, lulling him into the darkness. 

A few more weeks went by and the schedule essentially stayed the same. Nothing really changed. 

Nothing really changed. 

Food schedules may not have changed but your cat sure did. Kitty, you decided to call it, started to be more comfortable with you after that day you bathed him. His injuries didn’t seem too bad, just a few scratches here and there but have mostly healed over the past few days. You realised that it was indeed a he and that his fur - oh, it was the softest thing you have ever touched. It was even nicer than the fluffy rugs you have lying on the floor of your house. 

Sometimes, you even wake up with him snuggled in between your arms. 

What a character this cat has.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until a few days ago when you realised that your cat wasn’t eating as much as he used to. He ran fevers, occasionally spasming, and always whined for your attention every time you were near. Hell, you think that he probably vomited while you weren’t around too! You decided to take a leave today to see exactly what was wrong with your cat. 

So the moment that you woke up, you prepared to leave for the veterinarian. Your cat, however, did not seem at all fond of the idea. It mewled and clung onto your sofa when you tried to bring it out of the house. 

“Come on!” You struggled. “Come on, kitty, seriously! You have been sick for god knows how long and I’m not going to let you keep going like that!” You huffed. “Come…On! Let’s go already. The faster you finish, the faster we can come home.”

When you finally managed to get him out of the door, he meowed the whole way to the vet, almost ripping apart the towel that you had wrapped him in. You heaved a sigh of relief when you reached and got him into the clinic, heading right to the registration counter. 

“Hello, what are you here for?” 

“Erm, my cat has been having fevers and spasming recently. I would like to have him checked out.” You said, eyes darting around the place, seeing many different animals and feeling real… Out of place. You only fed the stray cats downstairs your blocks but never really had a pet by yourself. 

“Have you seen any doctors or come before?”

You shook your head. “No, we haven’t.”

The receptionist nodded. “How long has this been going on?”

You tried to think back to the earlier times when you started to suspect that your cat was sick. “Erm, about a few - maybe around four - days ago?”

“Alright.” The receptionist typed something into her computer and took out a ticket. “You can head over to the seat and wait for your queue number. It will show up on the screen when it is being called.”

You thanked her and went to take a seat. 

A3009, You read on the ticket. 

“That’s still a long way from ours, kitty. It’s only A286 right now. Hang in there.” You told him as he started to gag after a while. You ran your hands down his back in an attempt to calm him down. 

He started to shift around in your hold and you started to panic. “Erm,” You looked up, trying to ask for help just as he puked, vomit splattering off the floor and onto your shoes. People jumped back and pets got startled. The receptionists and nurses came out, trying to diffuse the commotion and clean the mess. 

You stood there trying to calm your cat down to no avail. “Gods, I’m so sorry -”

“It’s fine.” A nurse said. “I think this is more serious than you may have thought. Go to room five and knock. The doctor there will let you in. The receptionist has already informed her that you would be going first.”

You nodded and rushed to the room on as steady feet as possible, hoping that your quick movements would not trigger him again. 

ROOM 5: DR. PARK JI-HYUN

You knocked and went in, hastily greeting the doctor before explaining what was going on. “I really have no idea and I didn’t know how bad it was. I thought it would have gone away after a while.”

Dr Park conducted some tests and checked his lungs. As the results came back, the frown on his doctor’s brows was not making him feel any better. All the sources online stated that stray cats have a much stronger immune system to counter diseases than domestic cats do, so you decided to try for a few days. 

“I think it isn’t quite the problem of what your cat has eaten or what disease it has contracted.” Dr Park said. She scribbled something on the papers and moved to the screens, calling somebody to arrange for some sort of transportation. 

When she came back, she looked you dead in the eyes and frowned. Sighing, she said, “Goodness, how do I phrase this?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Your cat isn’t a cat. It is a hybrid.” 

[captain-joongz]

Abraxas; Act 1, Chapter 2 Part 1

Pairing: mafia boss!Min Yoongi x police office!reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, humour, angst, investigation themes, dark themes, eventual smut, slowburn, some fluff

Chapter summary: As spring time comes, the police station finds itself intensely focused on several cold murder cases linked to the gangs. Amidst this chaos, it's hard to find time for anything else except for grappling with the position in the team and the burning ambition to be accepted, but something lovely might just be awaiting right behind the corner. The complicated relationship with the Min gang continues to get even more muddled.

Chapter word count: 20.8k words

Warnings: discussion of crimes and murders, mentions of violence and gore (nothing too graphic, they're vaguely describing a murder scene), general anxiety? (our girl is NERVOUS in this one), Yoongi almost isn't in this chapter, start of reader x OC, gets suggestive at the end (it's not with Yoongi but he IS endgame, dw), also this chapter might be a bit slower and investigation and exposition heavy

Previous part | Series masterlist | Next part

A/N: in the end i decided to split this chapter into two parts, because i think it might be easier to read in two blocks as oppposed to a 40k words in a single chapter, also because this chapter took me such a long time to write (almost two months) maybe i'll implement it more often to not leave you without an update for too long, but chapters might not be able to come out as quickly as i originally hoped because they take a lot of time to make :(( hope you enjoy this one, the second part will be dropping soon after <3

Spring, first year in the force

I was leisurely scribbling on a parking ticket form, smiling at the curious city-goers and squinting in the spring sun. I had forgotten my sunglasses at the station, since I sprinted out the second I had gotten a text about Yoongi’s whereabouts, so now I was stuck half-blind.

From across the street a man in a café waved at me with a friendly smile and I waved back, satisfied for once. I had met Jake a week ago, when I spent the whole day in his cute little business, watching Jungkook’s car parked by Yoongi’s high-end restaurant. After an awkward conversation about who I was and what I was doing there, I introduced myself as an officer and asked about Yoongi. Jake had let it slip that he often saw that car parked there and I was able to beg him for a little favour. I would leave my number there and he would text me when Yoongi came.

You see, he couldn’t legally park there, but no one cared enough to stake it out and give him tickets. Well… No one but me. Was it petty and very inconsequential for him? Yes. Did I still run over anytime the text landed on my phone? Hell fucking yes.

I had no pride when it came to this, we have long since established that everything was allowed in this war of wit.

Gleefully I ripped the fine from the notepad and with dramatic care put it behind the wipers. Suddenly there was a loud groan behind me and when I turned, lo and behold, Jungkook was making his way towards me, his usually emotionless face coloured with annoyance and pinched into an unfriendly grimace. I gave him self-satisfied smile and patted the ticket.

“Seriously? Again?” he asked without any useless preamble and tore the ticket from the window to look at it closer. His eyes squinted aggressively at it, both against the sun and as he attempted to read my nearly undecipherable scrawl.

“Good morning to you too, Mr. Jeon,” I answered with a shit-eating grin, “If you didn’t continuously park outside of designated areas, I wouldn’t be forced to ticket you so often.” Jungkook gave me a stare that would be enough to kill someone and my grin deepened.

“What I would like to know,” a gruff voice came from behind the young man, and instantly our attention turned to the newcomer, “is how do you always know when our Kookie here parks like a naughty boy? You wouldn’t plant another tracker on us, would you?” Yoongi smiled at me and lazily walked down the stairs from the entrance to the street. I shook off the surprise quickly and put on a faux sweet smile, but I could already feel the beginnings of annoyance bubble within me. Jungkook relaxed and a tiny smirk pulled at his lips, and it was my turn to send him a murderous glare. Little shit probably knew that even if he couldn’t annoy me, Yoongi knew perfectly how to push my buttons until I was boiling with rage.

The whole thing with the tracker has turned into a real pain in the ass for me. Yoongi refused to return it to me and sooner or later someone from the station would come looking for it (especially since I technically acquired it unlawfully cause I didn’t have a warrant, but the officer gave it to me in good faith). I borrowed it under false pretences, citing an official business as the reason and wrote my name onto a form. The tracker was the property of the station, and I would have to return it. But I didn’t have it. Yoongi would always say it’s “keeping the score even since I lost theirs”.  I couldn’t even track it after they disabled it, so I was stuck.

“Unfortunately, the only one I had is still in your possession,” I retorted, mood souring quickly, “It’s not like I’m you, who has access to unlimited amount of illegal bullshit.” Yoongi chuckled and moved slightly closer to me so he could gloat to my face.

“Shouldn’t have lost our one,” he retorted with a smirk and moved to get into the car. I watched him as he plucked the ticket from Jungkook’s hands, gently folded it and put it into his suit pocket with a little wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay it in time.” The younger man was still watching me with slight irritation but didn’t say anything and opened the door for Yoongi.

I couldn’t help myself and squeezed in one last petty remark. “Technically, aren’t you the one who lost the tracker?” I asked him, channelling the most annoying energy towards the two men I could muster, “You are the one who was tracking it.”

Yoongi didn’t reply, only turned around to me over his shoulder, smirked and winked once again. Then he disappeared inside the car. Jungkook slammed the door shut and with one last unfriendly stare he got behind the wheel and drove off. I watched them go, a strange mixture of frustration and self-satisfaction boiling inside of me at the encounter.

After the whole tracker fiasco I felt the dynamic between us shift a little. I couldn’t fully pinpoint what it was, but something felt different in the way Yoongi regarded me. I could also see it in the way Jungkook seemed to dislike me more openly and Taehyung found more enjoyment from teasing all of us.

It was strange, the sudden candour exhibited by him. Whenever I would come along with another officer, Yoongi would behave differently, be snippier and more mysterious. But when I came alone, he would tease and smirk and spin his tales. He never really told me anything concrete, but I could see he enjoyed toying with me like that, dangling the information in front of me just barely out of reach. I didn’t know whether it was because I admitted I wouldn’t share the information right away or because I answered to his antics with full force, but he felt more open in front of me than other detectives, though nothing productive ever came from it anyway. Sometimes it felt like I was just an annoying younger sibling to him, and he dealt with me by provoking and teasing me.

I sighed, watching their car go, and then I swiftly crossed the street to my own car to return to the station. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going, just ran out and ignored their curious glances, and now I would have to deal with that. Minjoon would definitely ask, worried whether I had some emergency. He would ask me if I was okay and if I wanted a cup of coffee from cafeteria while regarding me with his warm brown eyes, and the thought of it was already making me relax a little.

I hadn’t talked to anyone in the station about what I’d been doing around Yoongi, not even to Minjoon who seemed to take pity on me and whenever the man was involved, took me with them (or at least as much as he managed to convince Hwang who really didn’t like me). I didn’t dare to express myself too much in front of Park when he tagged along and for some reason Yoongi went along with my cold shoulder whenever other detectives were around as if we were having a secret affair, but I could always see the glint of amusement in his eyes which made me want to punch him. I had no idea why he indulged me like that, but it definitely wasn’t anything good. Really, I should have seen the fuckery coming from a mile away.

So imagine my surprise when only a few days after the meeting at the restaurant, Yoongi waltzed into our office in the station with Jungkook and Jimin in tow like they owned it. He ignored the curious glances and the outright stares and made his way straight towards my table with a shit-eating grin. Jungkook seemed to have been smirking to himself too, and that’s how I knew I was in deep shit. Jimin was watching us with seemingly impassive eyes, but I could see the curiousness in them, especially since this was our first official meeting. I was well acquainted with him of course, but we’ve yet to actually speak with each other.

From the corner of my eye I could see Minjoon’s head shooting up in alarm and alerting Park in his office of what was going on. I shot him a warning glance as he was already halfway out of his chair but soon my attention was snatched by Yoongi, who slapped a piece of paper on my table with a wry grin. I looked at it. It was a confirmation of paying his parking tickets.

“There you go, officer, I hope you’re happy,” he chirped, self-satisfied like a big, spoiled cat, and if I wasn’t currently in the station I might have kicked him. Jimin made himself comfortable leaning on the neighbouring desk and spearing me through with intense eyes while Jungkook stood ramrod straight behind Yoongi sneering at me. This must have been such a great revenge for him I almost wanted to flip him off.

I was just about to open my mouth to retort something no doubt very inappropriate when Minjoon made it over to my desk and protectively stood by my side. My mouth snapped shut and I gave Yoongi a glare instead, to which he smirked knowingly.

“All the tickets, they’ve been paid,” he reiterated again, pointer finger tapping on the paper on my table, “And Kookie promises to do better.” The said man scowled behind him but stayed silent.

“What?” Minjoon asked confusedly, eyes jumping between all of us, “What is this pertaining to exactly?” He was talking to Yoongi, but I felt that his question was just as much pointed at me. Park was shuffling right on the edge of my periphery, curiously watching the whole thing go down, so I schooled myself and reminded myself that this wasn’t Yoongi’s office, and I couldn’t just curse him out in front of the whole unit. The bastard might have even enjoyed that. I gritted my teeth and stood up.

“Thank you, Mr. Min, for sorting out your situation,” I told him with a polite smile so tense it was basically a grimace, “and I hope your driver learns from this.” At the jab the young man narrowed his eyes at me, lips pursed, but didn’t move a single inch and didn’t make a single sound. Jimin leaning on the table was quietly snickering into his hand, watching the man’s tense form.

Yoongi’s answering smile was just as falsely sweet and polite, but the smugness still hung about his aura as he gave me a shallow bow and turned to leave, the whole time ostentatiously ignoring anyone else in the room. The moment the door closed behind him, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop, and everyone was staring at me. My palms grew clammy and I nervously shuffled, eyes falling at the confused detective still standing next to me who was eyeing me just as questioningly as the rest of the office.

Minjoon looked like he wanted to say something, but his gaze jumped to the receipt still laying on my table and he froze, as if he wasn’t done processing the situation. Before anyone could do anything, Park decided to break the silence.

“Lee, Jang, my office. Now,” he said sternly and without waiting for us stalked back into his office. We exchanged anxious glances, but wordlessly trailed behind him. I had half a mind to quickly circle back and grab the ticket receipt with me as if it was evidence.

Once inside, Park was sitting behind his table with a stern face, if I had to guess he was on a good way to pretty pissed, and we both stood in front of his desk with our heads hung low like two schoolmates getting scolded by the headmaster. My grip tightened around the paper until I crumpled it.

“So, what has just happened?” the older man asked, voice seemingly impassive but still chilling me to the bones. Minjoon sent me a look, encouraging me to speak so we both could get out of this.

“Uh… so…” I started, not knowing what or how to say, but in the end decided that just coming right out with something as close to the truth as possible was the best way, “I’ve been giving Yoo- I mean Mr. Min parking tickets these past two weeks. I remembered his license plate and I realised I pass his car sometimes when he’s by the Black swan. It’s not legal to park there, so I started writing him up anytime I pass by and he’s there.” Both men in the office watched me, Park still keeping his impassive expression, while Minjoon looked at me with a mixture of surprise and amusement. I flushed from embarrassment under their scrutiny, heart beating out of my chest at having to explain and lie.

“Okay,” said Park finally and relaxed, “I guess you took being annoying to heart.” Honestly it sounded both like a compliment and an insult, but as long as I wasn’t in serious trouble I didn’t really care. I swallowed my irritation at his words and instead looked at Minjoon, who was fighting a smile. Normally that would help me calm down and laugh at the situation too, but at that moment I was so nervous and panicked I barely had the mind to acknowledge it.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked our superior, some frustration bleeding into my voice, but Park was already a hundred miles away and barely paid it any mind. “No, you can write parking tickets as much as you want, but you need to let me know if you’re getting into contact with the suspects, you understand?” his voice was gruff, but it was obvious he was no longer invested into this conversation. I nodded fiercely, focusing on keeping my face as guiltless as possible. Swallowing my pride, I bowed to him, apologised and thanked him for lenience, before I walked out of the office back in the direction of my own table and the office door.

Minjoon caught up to me, the amusement finally free to show on his face and now he was snickering lightly. I threw a nervous smile over my shoulder and walked straight out of the office aiming for hiding out in cafeteria for a moment. He followed, thoroughly enjoying the visual of Yoongi getting tickets now that he knew what it was about.

I sent him a glare and he put his hands up, but in the end burst out laughing. “It’s pretty cool,” he got out between giggles, “I’m not saying anything.” I relaxed a little and let myself go with the flow, slowly easing into laughing too and smacking his shoulder in joking reprimand.

“Actually, it explains so much,” Minjoon said finally when we got to the front of the coffee line and held our cups securely in our hands. “What do you mean?” I gave him a confused glance, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, he just always smiles at you in a really weird way,” Minjoon said unthinkingly, obviously not finding it that strange, but I froze in my tracks watching him like a deer in the headlights, “You’ve been doing it for a while, right? I always thought he was just being a creep, but I guess he was thinking about all the tickets.” The detective snickered lightly, amused by this whole situation. I forced my muscles to relax and also gave a clipped nervous laugh, hopefully playing it off completely, even though I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I wondered just how much other people also realised that Yoongi was acting strange. If anyone else saw the teasing glint to his eyes and the curl of his lips that felt like he was sending secretive smirks aimed just at me, reminding me of our interactions that would lend me in serious trouble had anyone else found out.

Minjoon excitedly babbled some more, telling me about his encounter with one of the lower tier drug dealers and how he tried to escape from them through a window and got stuck, he was laughing through the whole story and I somehow managed to give him the appropriate reactions at the right times even though my mind was stuck on the dangerous man and how to deal with this mess for the rest of the afternoon.

The next day I angrily stomped my way through the doors of Yoongi’s office building. The lady sitting at the reception looked up, totally uninterested in me as I’ve been showing up here quite often, and then promptly looked back down to her desk, not even attempting to stop me. I stormed past her and went straight for the elevators and rode all the way up.

I needed to talk to Yoongi, now. If he thought this was going to stop me or deter me, or that it would be a warning for me and I would chill out, he would be sorely disappointed. I was angrier with myself than him though. We weren’t friends, nobody promised anyone anything. I operated on the belief that because he kept his mouth shut until now, he would continue to, but of course once I started getting too pesky, he would show me just how much I depended on his silence.

It was completely natural, and I couldn’t even blame him for it. I only blamed myself for getting fooled into the notion that he wouldn’t just because he waited this long to actually do anything.

Once the elevator door opened, I saw the always empty reception desk at the end of the hallway. It was quiet there, not even a shadow moved, and a sudden nervousness choked me. I wrung my hands and stepped around for a moment, but well. No time like the present. I took a deep breath and barrelled through the door.

It swung open wildly, hitting the wall with a dull thump. I strolled in with faux confidence and promptly realised – the room was empty. Usually Yoongi was sat behind his massive desk from dark wood or lounged about the sofa, but now looking around I couldn’t see any trace of his presence. There was complete silence, the door to the bathroom that was usually masked well into the wall now sat open and nor his coat nor his suit jacket was present.

My heart beat lighting fast with anxiousness, but my mind ran wild with possibilities. I looked around again, this time to make sure there wasn’t anyone around, I even checked the hallway again, but it was truly empty. Quickly I closed the door and hurried to his desk. The top was fully cluttered with documents to a point I could barely see the ornamented wood beneath, but at that moment I wasn’t interested in that, I was fully focused on a single thing – the fucking tracker.

There was a chance he was keeping it at home, but I found it more probable it was here, in this desk, with the worst case scenario being that Jungkook had it somewhere. Wildly I rummaged through papers, not caring about making a mess at all. There was a camera in the corner, and I knew it could see me as clear as day, and it was more about making a statement than trying to hide anything. I was getting swayed by my impulsivity, I knew that, but a chance like this wouldn’t present itself to me again. This was the last thing Yoongi would expect from me and I had to keep him on his toes somehow. I chuckled at that and kneeled down.

Moving on to the drawers, I found two of them locked. My interest was sufficiently peaked by that. No reason to lock them, if they don’t hold something you don’t want taken, right? I smirked, making a point to look straight at the camera, before pulling a bobby pin from my hair and quickly getting to work.

I didn’t like to think about my childhood very much. I didn’t have much growing up in an orphanage in one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Seoul, and what I did have I had to fight for. I wasn’t proud of what I did when I was growing up, wasn’t proud of the people I was hanging around and the things I got myself into before I was scouted for the police academy, but even now I had to admit it left me with some questionable yet useful skills.

Like how to pick locks.

I swirled the pin around for a few moments, tentatively pushing it around and tapping at the metal machinery, hoping I didn’t get out of practice, when I heard a click and the lock gave way. I quickly went through the first one and it didn’t contain much, mostly more documentation and some very fancy pens and a diary.

My hand stilled on it for a second and I was tempted to peek, but I couldn’t. It felt too wrong and I couldn’t betray myself like that. I had no idea what would be contained within his diary, but it felt too much like a complete violation of privacy. Looking for the tracker could still be all a part of one big running joke, but actually going through his things didn’t sit right with me, especially since anything I got this way would be totally inadmissible in court and land me in more trouble than it was worth. Right, it could give me more information about him and push me in the right direction, but at the cost of not being able to look at myself in the mirror. With one last look I slammed the drawer shut and moved on to the other one, swallowing down the shame about my very questionable morals.

No time to dwell on it now, I would get Yoongi fair and square in the end, I just had to try a little harder.

Opening the other drawer revealed that the content was much more interesting. Upon moving some papers out of the way, I quickly found not only the tracker I had put on Yoongi, but also the tracker he had put on me. I narrowed my eyes at the camera and fished out both of the devices to show them off, waving them both around with a less than impressed expression. I pocketed them and flipped of the camera, quickly moving to shut the drawers, when something caught my attention.

Black steel glinted from underneath the mess in the second drawer and when I lifted it off, I gasped lightly. A gun was lying at the bottom, a little black handgun just hanging out inside his desk. Quickly I examined it, noting it was the same model police officers carried, DP51. It was accessible to get with the proper license and I knew Yoongi had it, he had gotten it legally some time ago and the model checked out, but it still shocked me to just see it lying about like that. But as long as it was legal, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. If I was petty enough, I’d check the serial number and make sure it was truly the one he had registered, but I still really wouldn’t be able to do much as I wasn’t even supposed to find it and had just committed a crime by breaking into his desk, so I’d rather not provoke my luck too much.

Just as swiftly as I threw things out I put everything back in there and shut it, not bothering to lock them again. Giving the camera one last victorious smile I rushed out, slamming the door behind me.

I didn’t even know if the universe was on my side or against me when I quite literally bumped straight into Yoongi on the sidewalk by the main entrance. He was just rounding a corner from the side alley when I crashed into him, almost falling on my ass, and I totally would have eaten dirt right out in the daylight if the man in question didn’t immediately shoot out his arms to catch me.

“Woah!” Yoongi exclaimed in surprise, hands grabbing onto my arms and pulling me back onto my feet trying to stabilise me a little. When he realised who I was, he smirked like he’s just come across his favourite idiot (he did). Jungkook ran over to us, alarmed and clearly worried for his boss’ safety. He would have ripped me away from Yoongi if the man himself didn’t stop him with a lazy little wave of his hand, no doubt curious which gems he’d get out of me now.

Once I had my feet under me again, I suddenly found that the irritation that always seemed to be present when I dealt with Yoongi was nowhere to be found. Instead I felt like the little shit-stirer today. I seemed to have shocked them both when I grinned widely, in that manner that you know I had just done something that would piss them off.

Yoongi regarded me suspiciously, probably putting two and two together and realising I had been loitering around the office building.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, officer?” he asked, shock robbing him of his usual poise. My smirk deepened and I gently grabbed his wrists to remove his hands from my arms. Jungkook watched me with a stare so intense it almost burned a hole in me, but I let him go immediately, his arms hanging in the air between us for a split second before Yoongi gathered himself and stepped back leisurely.

He tried to look cool and collected, but his eyes were sharp and calculated why I would be in such a good mood, clearly not used to me being so carefree in his presence. I had one of those moments when I was snapped out of my usual approach to Yoongi, maybe because only a single glance at him didn’t enrage me beyond human capabilities like usual, and I suddenly clocked in the put together state of him.

His hair was put into a half bun, but some soft strands were hanging around and framing his face, curling up into tiny waves, while the rest fell to his shoulders in a wavy mess. He was all in black again, black t-shirt and dress pants and a longer jacket with a white hem that fell to his mid-thighs. It wasn’t often that I actively realised that he was a fairly attractive man with a good sense of fashion, but when I did, it never failed to smack me right in my face. But tonight I was ecstatic about managing to swindle him like this and getting the tracker back, so I let myself tease him a little more than I usually would.

Before they could say anything, I sidestepped him and patted his shoulder. “Thanks for that,” I chirped out, shit-eating grin still firmly set on my face, “Looking good today, Mr. Bossman, but unfortunately I have to run now.” With that I set out back to my car so that I could hurry back to the station.

When I was pulling out of the parking spot, I could still see Yoongi and Jungkook standing on the corner, confusedly watching me. I couldn’t help myself and waved at them from the car as I was passing them. I wished I could have seen Yoongi’s face when he watched back that security tape, but unfortunately the universe wouldn’t allow me this much amusement.

Back at the station I immediately ran for the IT department and after some grovelling and apologizing for taking this long to return it, I was able to finally tie this loose end, hoping no one would ever request to review my involvement with this unit.

Walking out of there, I felt as if a whole mountain fell off of my heart and it put a pep in my step. For the rest of my shift I let the mental image of Yoongi losing his shit over a security recording carry me and it never failed to make me cackle even hours later.

When a week later I got summoned into Park’s office again, suffice to say I was shitting bricks. This could either be a continuation of last week, a more detailed interview about how much was I exactly involved with Yoongi, or he got wind of me returning the tracker. Neither of these were good – they would either land me in trouble or force me to lie, which I wasn’t exactly fond of.

I was nervously shuffling from foot to foot by the door for a long few moments, but just as I was about to knock and enter, I was suddenly joined by Minjoon and two people I’ve never met before – a man and a woman that looked a few years older than me. They were both dressed rather nicely and gave me small but friendly smiles when our eyes met. We exchanged hellos and pleasantries while I eyed the two of them curiously. Minjoon smiled at me in a way I could call encouraging and knocked, never initiating any introduction between us and before I could say anything, we were instructed by a gruff voice to come in, so I let it go for the moment.

Officer Hwang was already waiting inside, the older man was sitting on one of the chairs and chatting amicably with Park, whose face immediately shut off the moment strangers came in. The duo went over to the couch and sat down, looking expectantly towards Park to start speaking. We shuffled around a little, arranging chairs and getting comfortable, there was a hum of nervous small talk and then silence settled over the room as everybody sat down and looked towards the senior detective.

“Right,” he cleared his throat, “We have several new leads, ones that I will later share with the whole team, but you should be briefed first as it directly involves the three of you.” Park awkwardly gestured towards us sitting on the other side of his desk uncomfortably squirming in our seats.

I began winding down slightly. It seemed that none of my fears were realised, and this meeting was about something completely different and none of my transgressions. I released a long breath, the tension leaving my body and I decompressed into the little chair. Minjoon looked over and must have caught my nervousness, so he sent me a little smile, probably thinking I just wasn’t used to being called to the office yet. I shakily returned it and tuned my attention back to the older detective.

“As you surely remember, about a month ago there was a call from a passerby about shots around the dock area down in west south Seoul. Upon arrival, a bloody scene was found with several bodies that were later identified to be small fish drug dealers,” Park began explaining the situation to us, “It was on the Kim family turf, so no connection to Mins was made. They seemingly are on cordial terms, so we didn’t have a reason to assume Min had anything to with it. But a few days ago, our Kim informant gave us the information that there are tensions rising between the two gangs and a month ago there was an altercation on the Kim turf that apparently happened by the hands of Min’s dogs. That made us circle back to this case and we think it might be what he was talking about.”

I remembered the instance very well, I realised with embarrassment flushing my face. It was the evening Minjoon refused to take me with him due to the gruesome scene and in anger I went to beg to Yoongi’s office for any kind of information, only to end up with a tracker on my phone. Stupid naïve old me, that has never dealt with a man of Yoongi’s calibre before. I shook my head lightly at the memory. The tracker situation would just not leave me alone.

There was silence in the room, less because people were shocked and more of an unsureness of whether he was expecting us to add something or he was content to carry on by himself. In the end, Hwang broke the tense atmosphere.

“They must have been in a rush to leave behind such a mess,” he drily stated, “not like the boys at all.” There were some hums of agreement from around the room and then more quietness. Finally, Park decided to get to the point of this, clapping his hands curtly to get all of our attention again and I flinched in my chair, having been looking at the two strangers sitting on the sofa whisper something to each other. When I turned to him, he was staring at me with his eyebrow raised before he continued.

“We have decided to collaborate on this investigation with the violent crimes unit,” Park briefly gestured to the two strangers sitting on the sofa, to which they gave us an awkward wave, “Jang and Hwang are the Min team in our unit, so you will be in charge of it on our end. I notified the boys who keep an eye on the Kims to be of assistance to you if you need it. Newbie, you will be working on this with them as an assistant.” I jerked, this time from surprise, looking all wide eyed at the detective before he got tired of my gradually happier and happier face and turned back to others. I could barely supress the joy that coursed through my veins at this, basically vibrating in my seat.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Minjoon giving me a cheeky smile, insinuating he was already aware of the situation, and I was likely the only that was kept in the dark about it. Excitement thrummed through me and I could barely stop myself from bouncing on the chair. There seemed to be a permanent smile etched into my features, and while Park kept giving out some more technical advice and instructions, I didn’t even listen properly through the sea of possibilities already flashing through my mind.

Within 5 minutes Park was pushing us all out of his office and we found ourselves awkwardly standing outside and looking at each other.

“Well, I guess I ought to introduce myself,” I broke the ice, suddenly emboldened by this turn of events, all sunshine and smiles as I offered my hand to them once again, “I am officer Lee Y/N, I joined the force last autumn.”

The man, who towered over me with his wide shoulders and muscled form, shook my hand first with a charismatic smile and nodded at me. “Name’s Choi Seungcheol, but you can call me Coups. I’ve been in the force for some time already.” His face looked very kindly, but there was a spark of a boyish cheekiness in his features. The lady by his side snickered at that and I couldn’t help myself and giggled along.

She stepped closer to me and pushed away Seungcheol so she could shake my hand as well. He jokingly pouted and gave her a side-eye, but it was obvious they were very close as both partners and friends. It made me smile at the display, hoping that one day when I got my own partner, we would be just as tight. My eyes took her form in, her dark wavy hair and confident face, she was a true mixture of beauty and strength.

“I’m Sunmi,” her voice brought me back and I stopped gawking at her with flushed cheeks, “I’m his senior, so don’t even ask how many years I’ve been in the force.” To this Seungcheol laughed meanly and lightly bumped her shoulder with his fist.

“We’ve been dealing with this case mostly on our own, but we’re excited about getting the help of your unit,” she added and gave us all a wide grin, “I’m sure we can all give each other useful information.” Seungcheol behind her nodded and then reached out to pat Minjoon’s shoulder.

“I’ll just beg you for like 20 minutes so I can run to the buffet and buy myself at least a sandwich or something, cause I’m about to die,” he joked good-naturedly with us and before anyone could say anything, already started walking back with a cheeky grin. Sunmi rolled her eyes fondly and then slowly turned to follow him. Minjoon just waved them off with a smile and then turned to us.

Me and Hwang were watching each other awkwardly. He regarded me with obvious mistrust and contempt, but I’d already gotten used to that in this unit, so I only returned it with a smile so fake I was surprised he wasn’t insulted by it.

“Okay you two, play nice,” Minjoon inserted himself into the situation and grabbed both of our shoulders, “there’s also no need for formalities now, we’ll all be working closely together. Y/N, please from now on call him Jiho, Jiho call her Y/N.” The man scowled at me but in the end buckled under the pressure of Minjoon’s stare and nodded my way in acknowledgement.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff,” he then grumbled and moved to his table moodily. I scowled at his back, returning his favour in terms of warm welcomes, but Minjoon subtly shook his head at me so I schooled my expression back into careful neutrality. Inside I was pissed though. It’s not like I was stepping on any toes here, he just didn’t like me for the sake of not liking me.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Minjoon walking towards the conference room with the infamous Min gang picture wall, so I followed after him. My happy mood took a small hit after such a reception from my colleague, but at least the violent crimes unit seemed really nice so not all was lost.

In the shoddy privacy the glass walls of the room offered I sat down and sulked, heart sinking as I realised that Minjoon might be the only person on my side here. Park was annoyed by me and Hwang obviously didn’t like me at all, and when it came to it, Seungcheol and Sunmi weren’t part of this unit and couldn’t really affect my standing among my own colleagues.

“Don’t pout now,” Minjoon’s teasing remark brought my attention back to him and when I took in his amused face, I had to fight off another scowl, “He’ll come around to you. He’s just annoyed a newbie is allowed to work with us so quickly.” That didn’t soothe my anger at all, but I pretended to smile towards the only kind man in this unit, not wanting to dig around in this open wound anymore.

“You shouldn’t take it personally,” the man continued obliviously, flipping his dark brown floppy hair out of his eyes as he fixed something on the wall, “you know, he’s Park’s understudy and as such he’s not only very old school, but he’s also been part of this unit for a long time without many promotions. Stuck in the same place for this amount of time, he isn’t the exactly the nicest to fast moving rookies. I had my problems with him as well, especially since I took the leading position in our team after only a few months here.” He smiled at me soothingly, throwing a glance at me over his shoulder with his kind eyes and it finally made me calm down a little.

“Sorry, I’m used to everyone hating me specifically that it never occurred to me he could be a dick to everybody,” I half joked half grumbled and Minjoon laughed at my words, pulling a genuine smile from me at the sound. For a few seconds I wished people here were a little more like him, or that I was assigned to him when I got here, but drowning in what ifs was never a good way to spend time, so I shut that self-pity down quickly.

Instead I focused on the wall and the few changes that have been made to it sometime this week. Truth be told, I was so caught up in feuding with the gang in real life, I kind of forgot to keep up with the information hanging here on the wall, so I took a few moments to take everything in.

Under the old picture of Yoongi that was the primary point of the wall someone taped a new picture of him, most probably very recent one and from some kind of an official black-tie event. He was wearing a sleek suit with his hair styled and slicked back from his face, champagne glass in hand as he kept a light conversation with someone out of the shot.

“That’s from the fundraiser for a new children ward in the Seoul St. Mary’s Hospital,” Minjoon supplied when he saw me looking at the pic, “As one of the richest men in Korea he gets around these events a lot, it’s kind of funny.” I scoffed playfully at his words.

“All you have to do is own a few hotels,” I sing-songed jokingly, eyes already moving across the wall for any new details. There weren’t many, most just pertained to Tae, Jimin and Jungkook going about their days and doing business. Yoongi’s schedule was mostly known to us and he rarely strayed into unknown spaces, Namjoon mostly just sat in his office and Hoseok was as elusive as ever. I had an inkling I probably saw more of him in the past few weeks than my colleagues did in months, and even then he just made sure everything was going okay around the docks. And as for Jin, he was an open book with his practice and reputation, so there weren’t exactly any skeletons to dig for in his closet.

Once again I realised that without a proper offensive we would never get close enough to Yoongi to actually prosecute any of his gang members, and although all the evidence I gathered could be easily dismissed just by Yoongi reporting me and asking for a restraining order, I still got closer than Park who always bumped into Namjoon’s carefully constructed walls of legal bullshit.

We all knew illegal shit happened behind closed doors, we all knew how he got his stuff here and what he sold in his clubs and how he dealt with his “employees”, but on the outside everything either seemed perfectly legal without any loopholes to sneak your way in or there just wasn’t enough conclusive evidence, letting Yoongi perfectly skirt the grey area and do his crimes in peace. At this point if we didn’t get a photo of him shooting someone point blank, we’d never be able to get him, cause he had the uncanny ability to weasel his way out of everything.

He truly was someone that’s been doing crime before I even learnt to tie my own shoes and it showed.

And while my plan with Hoseok crashed and burned, I wasn’t giving up. I wouldn’t give up. I just needed time to recoup and find a new way in. Problem was, Yoongi was way too aware of me now and yes, I did learn from my mistakes and always managed to attack from a different angle, but I was still only a single person, and it was too easy for them to toy with me. I was too vulnerable against the seven of them and somehow they always got ahead of me, made me into their entertainment and played games with me until I caught up. I had to change my tactics, again.

And this was my opportunity to do so. Minimise contact and focus on the investigation and skirt around them for as long as possible. The less they saw of me now, the better. At this point, that was the only thing they wouldn’t expect me to do. Here or there drop in and keep it together, remain professional. Or just turn it around completely and play by their rules to subvert their expectations. I could do this. I had to, really. There was no other choice against Yoongi’s wit and his men.

Next to me Minjoon was humming as he put up some additional information to the wall, the basic stuff we all already knew but for people from a different unit it could be useful to keep it up so they oriented in the case better. Slowly, the grey of the coating couldn’t even be seen anymore, all covered up in pictures of people and bodies and crimes. It was strangely calming, having it all in front of me like that, seeing clearly the web of depravity and corruption. It was easier to keep the goal in mind and not get lost in all the dead ends.

The sudden sound of the door opening tore me from my musings and I jerked in shock, fight or flight almost kicking in since I was so lost in my own head for a moment, but I relaxed once I realised it was the violent crime guys with Hwang sullenly trailing in behind them. I fought to keep the eye rolls to myself and instead gave a warm smile to Seungcheol and Sunmi, gesturing for them to make themselves comfortable around the table. Minjoon was still messing around with some of the files and boxes and Hwang walked over to him, the two of them whispering to each other about something.

Sunmi started piling files onto the table, so I kept my attention there, sitting down across from them and slowly going through them. There were a few cases, but most of them pertained to the killing from a month ago. There was a lot of witness statements, some vague comments about the safety of the area and a lot of avoiding answers when it came to the topic of the Kim family. I sifted through them until I got to the pictures and stilled.

I’d never seen the crime scene before. I have seen pictures of crime scenes, even pictures of bodies and autopsies, but the fact that I knew the killer, talked with him and joked with him, it messed me up more than I was anticipating it would. It was the first crime scene I saw that was so viscerally real and close to me, to my own case. It felt like my heart was beating out of my throat and I could physically feel my hands getting sweaty.

“Hey, you okay?” I heard a kind deep voice, and two hands suddenly entered my peripheral. I quickly tore my eyes away from the pictures of bloody bodies strewn across an industrial complex, of pools of thick red liquid covering most of the floor and walls splashed with it. I tried not to think about the obvious signs of a scuffle, of the evidence of complete overpowering by power unseen and totally unexpected. I tried not to think about how much force do you need to exert while killing someone to get their blood all over the ceiling.

My eyes met the worried ones of Seungcheol and I nodded shakily. His question got the attention of most of the room, and I found myself at the centre of attention with several concerned gazes trained onto me and Hwang watching me condescendingly from the corner. That quickly amplified my unease and I found myself stuttering out another affirmative answer almost incoherently.

“You said you were a newbie, right?” Sunmi asked, but her voice and face were soft with no trace of mocking I was afraid I’d see there, “Is this your first crime scene?” With shame written all over my face I nodded again and pushed the file with the pictures away, trying hard not to catch anybody’s eyes.

Seungcheol laughed softly and I flinched, humiliation filling me from head to toe, until he said: “You’re still holding up pretty well, when I saw my first crime scene I threw up.” Sunmi laughed at that, laughed at him, and yet it wasn’t insulting and he returned her smiles completely unperturbed.

“Oh god, I remember that,” she said breathlessly, “It was absolutely hilarious. He was green the whole day and barely uttered a word.” Seungcheol smirked at her and I could see in Sunmi’s eyes she realised he was about to say something about her past the way they narrowed and her smile froze.

“Actually Captain later told me that you threw up too and then cried during lunch, so we’re pretty even,” he said smugly and there was silence for a few seconds before they both started giggling at each other. I couldn’t help myself and a few giggles escaped me too at their antics.

“Honestly, I think the only reason I am not throwing up right now is because it’s only pictures,” I managed to mutter out my own hesitant comment, topping it off with a shaky smile hoping to show my gratitude to them for trying so hard to distract me from it. They both grinned back, nodding in encouragement, and I leaned back into my chair a little, stomach still rolling around but now considerably calmer than before.

Minjoon finally abandoned the wall and sat down next to me, his hand gently patting my shoulder before he kindly said: “Don’t worry, everybody has a reaction when they see something like that for the first time. I threw up too the first time I was taken to a crime scene.”

I started squirming under all their attention and just simply nodded to get them back to focusing on anything else, especially since Hwang’s eyes coldly regarded me from the wall watching me like I was totally pathetic.

In my mind, I was suddenly brought back to that day, how angry I was with Minjoon for underestimating me and telling me I can’t come with him. Back then I thought he was just being overprotective because I’m a woman, that he sees me as weaker like all the rest and immediately jumped into going to Yoongi instead and embarrassing myself there, but now having seen these photos, I was suddenly relieved I didn’t go. I was stupid, I had no idea what I was talking about all those weeks ago. I looked to him and gave him a thankful smile, even if he had no idea what I was thinking about, and he returned it tenfold. That helped me calm down even more, but still there was an undeniable tenseness to my shoulders and a slight tremble in my hands.

In some way I was also glad for not having seen the scene back then, because I don’t think I would be able to face Yoongi the next day without throwing up again.

The conversation around me shifted already to the other files and I was only brought back to what was happening around me once Minjoon touched my arm in concern, watching me the whole time I was dissociating. I gave him a half-hearted smile and tuned back in.

“It’s not official, of course,” Sunmi was just saying, finger tapping on one of the unfamiliar files, “But we think it’s highly likely. There’s some similarities, even though it’s just speculation and no formal ties to any of the gangs have been made, but it’s all victims that ran through these circles and their demises were very sudden and very violent. It’s worth it to go through it with you experts and see.” So they brought extra files that could also be associated with the Min gang. Curiously I pushed one file open and gave it a quick glance over. It seemed to be some old rich guy that was murdered on the street few months back and it was at first classified as mugging.

“Have these happened in or around places known to be associated with these gangs?” I found my voice finally and jumped back into professional headspace, trying to shake off the residual unsettlement. Seungcheol’s eyes jumped to me suddenly, presumably getting surprised by me inserting myself back into the conversation.

“Yeah, they’re all mostly directly from or from around the Min or Kim turf,” he said and gave me a supportive smile. I returned it, still somewhat awkward with them as strangers, but quickly getting drawn into their warm presence and energy.

Minjoon next to me hummed, watching the table quickly disappear under a load of papers and photos, seemingly deep in thought. Then he looked at me and smiled. It was the ‘I’m gonna have you do something you’ll hate’ kind of smile and I already felt my enthusiasm crashing through the floor all the way to hell.

“I think it’d be beneficial to go through the files and see if any of the names seem familiar to us or pop in our database. If we find a concrete link to them, we can count them in,” he said slowly, like he was pitching an idea for a new breakfast commercial trying to win over tough investors, and his eyes slid over to me again, “Y/N, please start with that and keep me updated on your progress.”

I gave Minjoon a tight-lipped smile and nodded, gathering all the files on a little pile in front of me. I couldn’t pinpoint why exactly I was so uncomfortable in this situation, but there was just a feeling creeping up my back that something was wrong and I had no idea why. I squeezed my trembling fingers into a fist and listened to Minjoon explaining basic information to the violent crimes team about Yoongi and his organisation. I listened on a half ear, most of the things long time known to me, some even information I could potentially expand on if it wasn’t immediately followed up by questions I couldn’t answer.

I imagined Yoongi in my mind, I thought back to our last meeting and tried to summon back the feeling of power and vindication I felt after leaving his office with the trackers. I still haven’t followed up with him, still didn’t come by for another battle or to see his irked but intrigued gaze. He’d tell me something smug, teasing, he’d maybe call me a thief or make fun of me for looting when I was a police officer.

But now I wouldn’t be able to follow up on it anymore, with the investigation I’d be needed around the precinct more, I couldn’t get away with disappearing so much without any explanation. And I still didn’t have another plan how to track down Hoseok either.

Minjoon moved to the wall and was gesturing to some of the photos, mainly going over the main six. I zeroed in on the pics we had of the man I was after so desperately, most of them were taken of him on his phone or with a scowl on his face as he dealt with something in the docks, his strict face as scary as captivating.

It’s the face of a stone-cold killer, I reminded myself. They’re all killers. A feeling of unease fell over me, like I realised for the first time just how much I was playing with fire these past few months and more than ever I couldn’t comprehend why Yoongi was so lenient with me, when I now first-hand experienced how his enemies ended up.

By the time we were done in the conference room, it was already getting dark outside. Seungcheol and Sunmi departed with a few nice words and promises to meet us next week at the scene, before they both disappeared down the hallway leading to the service parking lot. Hwang also scurried off somewhere without saying much, just one second he was there and the next there was no trace of him.

I stretched, my whole body absolutely screaming from sitting by the table for hours upon hours on no end, and as I got up one joint after another cracked like crisps getting stepped on, a long groan leaving my mouth as my muscles locked with the temporary relieving pain.

“Remind me to never sit at this table for longer than two hours next time,” I said to Minjoon, voice strained but carrying a tone of humour in it. He laughed lightly, not really looking at me as he tried to tidy up the table. I stole a few files right from under his hands and he shot me curious glance.

“Aren’t you going home?” he asked with a polite concern lighting his voice, “It’s been a long afternoon and we should be fresh tomorrow.” I gave him a toothy grin and gestured to the files in my hands.

“I will go home, I just want to copy these so I can have a look at them outside work,” I explained and moved to leave the room, but Minjoon stopped me with his hand gently grabbing my arm. I froze and turned to him, clocking in his sheepish expression with lips pursed as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t decide how.

“What’s up?” I asked gently, turning to face him fully and give him my attention, hoping it would coax him into spilling whatever he was holding inside. He smiled at me blindingly and it instinctually made me smile too.

“Thanks for taking on the files,” he said and I felt my smile slipping a little, but held on steadfast, “Of course I’ll try to help you with it as much as possible when I have the free time for it.” For what felt like the thousandth time that day I nodded to avoid actually speaking on my feelings. I didn’t really know what I would tell him anyway. That I hoped that now that I was a part of the team officially I wouldn’t just get saddled with the desk work? I was grateful they wanted to take me to the site with them and I knew that my task was also important, but it still felt like I was a secretary to a detective team instead of fully being part of the investigation too.

“I knew I could count on you,” Minjoon sighed relieved and patted my head, ruffling my hair a bit in the process, “The moment Park mentioned this collaboration happening, I knew that I wanted to push for your participation. I’m glad he listened to me in the end.” My eyes widened enough to almost fall out of the sockets.

“You pushed me through to the team?” I asked totally flabbergasted. Minjoon only nodded with a mischievous expression. “You were so passionate about this from the beginning, I knew you had it in you to make it here,” he told me encouragingly. Warmth filled me from the inside, gratefulness almost making my eyes water as I took the information in.

“Thank you Minjoon,” I said as sincerely as I possibly could, “Truly, it means everything to me.” The man winked and then moved to leave the conference room. Right before he walked out he threw one last glance at me and said: “Don’t stay up too late.”

I was left standing there long minutes after the door banged shut after him, just processing the whole situation. There was still leeway for me to gain respect through this, I just had to prove myself. I had to go along and give it my hundred and ten percent, and with Minjoon on my side it was still possible for me to find my way into this unit. With new determination I set on, quickly copying the files and making my way to my car.

Sitting behind the wheel, I suddenly didn’t quite know what to do. Somewhere deep down I wanted to have one last showdown with Yoongi before disappearing. The way we left things was too open and there were things that needed to be said now. On the other hand, it would be a ballsy move to just disappear after what I pulled in his office a week ago. I was torn, but still, I already knew what I would end up doing.

I’ve already come to recognise the pattern – I would get upset at work, I would drive to Yoongi trying to prove something to myself, I would embarrass myself in front of him and then I would regret it and go home chastising myself for getting tangled into his games. But knowing it didn’t make the prospect of arguing with Yoongi over nothing any less tantalising.

And I had a big win under my belt now. I desperately needed to know, needed to see the effect of my office stunt.

Before I could talk myself out of it I put the car in gear and started driving in the direction of Pied Piper. It was too late for Yoongi to still be at the office, unless there were special circumstances, and between all his joints and businesses, I’ve found Pied Piper to be the safest bet when I wanted to find him quick. Glancing at the files sitting on my passenger seat I steeled myself and drove mindlessly, already knowing the road there by heart.

Thirty minutes later (because Itaewon was absolutely packed and I could barely make my way through the streets, not to mention park) I was marching up to the Pied Piper bouncers as I’d done countless times before, playing the part of the big bad detective as best as I could.

“Tell boss Lee Y/N’s here,” I told one of the muscley bald men immediately as I was within earshot. He gave me an unimpressed look, eyes sliding from my head all the way to my toes with mocking eyes, before he scoffed.

“Boss isn’t here,” was all he said before he turned away from me, ignoring me in a way that was supposed to send me home with my tail tucked between my legs. Instead I rolled my eyes and loudly scoffed back.

“Look, whatever he told you about taking or not taking visitors, just use your walkie-talkie and say my name, I assure you he’ll want to see me,” I played up my annoyance, putting my hands on my hips and tapping my foot impatiently, admittedly probably looking pretty funny to the guys even though I was trying to be so tough to sway them. I was surprised I wasn’t already a known face around here to be perfectly honest, but it is true that I’ve never recognised any of the men even after numerous visits, so the chance I was talking to someone new every time, or at least that enough time has passed to make them forget about me, was extremely high.

The man turned back to me with an outright hostile face and I froze for a moment, fear gripping me for split second before I threw him a glare of my own. The situation was quickly spinning out of control and I didn’t know for how long I’d get away with messing with them, but before I had to start thinking about plan B, the other bouncer turned to us.

“He’s telling the truth, boss isn’t in tonight,” he said in a much more mellow voice, determined to keep the peace. I immediately changed my attitude, giving him a tight smile.

“Where is he then? Dynamite? The hotel?” I fired a question after question and it made the bouncer regard me with a glint of amusement in his eyes, like a giant that was watching a kitten fight for its life.

“I have no idea,” was all he said. I kept waiting for him to elaborate, but once enough time has passed I realised he just wasn’t going to say anything more. I narrowed my eyes at him, which he seemed to be quite enjoying seeing me pissed.

“You don’t know or you can’t tell?” I asked him again, the tapping of the foot back, and I felt a little too much like a toddler throwing a tantrum in the supermarket. He just shrugged and shook his head. “We’re way too low in the food chain to have information about his whereabouts,” the first bouncer grumbled under his breath without glancing our way, keeping his eyes on the line of impatient club-goers trying to get in.

“Okay then,” I drawled out annoyed, “Is Taehyung in?” No matter how much I preferred not meeting the overly flirty man, he would definitely know where to find Yoongi or just call him over, so it was worth surviving his company for one evening. But the way the second bouncer smiled like a cat that was about to eat an unguarded piece of meat, I already knew the answer before he even opened his mouth.

“Nope,” he drawled out the p and released it in an annoying pop, grinning at me like it made his entire evening. I rolled my eyes at him but didn’t dignify it with an answer.

“Alright, is Jimin at The Rose?” I was literally grasping at the straws bringing up the man I haven’t even officially met yet, but it was my last shot unless I wanted to go annoy Namjoon who for sure was still sitting in that little office of his. But I made such a great job of totally avoiding him and I’d rather keep it that way. There was just something about him that made me tense and uncomfortable.

“It’s highly possible,” ground out the first bouncer, clearly done with our bullshit. I gave them a fake smile and if my eyes could kill, both of them would have already been speared through four times over, but judging by the barely concealed snickers of the second bouncer, he was having the best time ever. I rolled my eyes at him one last time and then walked off without another word.

The drive to The Rose took me another additional 20 minutes, but thankfully this part of the entertainment block was far less crowded as it was too high-end for most. The line in front of the door was much shorter and consisted mostly of young women, most of them likely hoping they would be able to bag a filthy rich good-for-nothing as they excitedly gazed at the building and made eyes at the bouncers hoping they would be let in. The guys standing here were also very well dressed, both sporting nice suits with monochrome t-shirts in dark colours, hair swept and gelled up as if they were part of the exclusive clientele.

I almost felt ashamed walking up to them wearing my crinkled work clothes, hair no doubt so messy I must have looked half insane from the back. I regretted not at least brushing through it once in the car, but now it was too late as I was making my way along the line trying to look as confident as possible. I ignored the dirty looks from the ladies for skipping the line and showing up looking almost like a homeless person and instead carried myself until I stood directly in front of the two men guarding the door.

“Is Park Jimin here tonight?” I asked, pushing down the feelings of annoyance at the mounting sense of déjà vu. I just hoped I wouldn’t helplessly spin in circles here as well. All I wanted was to laugh in Yoongi’s face a little, but apparently universe chose this moment for some karmic warning. I swear to god in the past few months those bastards were almost at every corner I went to, it was literally impossible to dodge them, and now this one evening I can’t get hold of anyone? What was this bullshit?

The men regarded me with their impassive gazes, also judging me from head to toe, before one of them turned towards the door and discreetly pulled out a walkie-talkie. I sagged in relief as that was a good sign. Jimin was most likely here and probably open to visitors.

The man turned back to me and only huffed out “name?” without any preamble. I quickly stuttered it out, the nerves now taking over as I realised I would have to face the man for the first time ever completely alone, both without a police partner or Yoongi present.

The man relayed the information and within seconds I was being ushered through the door inside, catching spiteful jealous glances from the line of hopeful visitors. If you knew why I was here girls, you’d be a lot less ruffled about it.

The bouncer didn’t leave my side for a second, hand firmly planted on my shoulder as he steered me through the fancy club. I was infinitely grateful for his paranoia as I’ve never been here before and had no clue where to go. He led me to a discreet staircase at the furthest wall from us, hidden directly behind the bar. At first I thought he would bring me to a secluded little area in the VIP zone like in Dynamite or Pied Piper, but I quickly realised this was way too hidden to be meant for public use.

My confusion and unease continued to mount as we climbed those stairs and the sounds from the club died down to a near complete silence except for the bass of the music reverberating through the walls. Up on the little standing was a tiny area for waiting, containing a small sofa and table set with some dried flowers as decoration. And directly in front of us as we got up was an ornate dark wood door, perfectly fitting into the whole vibe of flamboyant wealth.

The bouncer finally let me go to shortly knock on the door and then walked straight off, leaving me standing there with my mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. Before my confusion led me to do something even more stupid, the door swung open and there he stood, Park Jimin, god amongst men, giving me a megawatt smile, laying his charm on so thick I could laugh. With a wide gesture he invited me inside what I now realised must have been his office.

I walked in unsurely, head flitting from side to side trying to take everything in, the nervousness reaching crescendo, especially when I heard the door click shut behind us. I quickly turned to face the man again and he was smiling just as seductively and invitingly as before, now gesturing to the lavish red sofa taking up the corner of the room.

“Please, do have a seat,” he said languidly, the words flowing out of him smoothly and wrapping around me like a ribbon, his voice as mesmerising as siren’s song. Eyes wide and shocked silent, I just went with it and almost unwittingly moved over to the corner to sit. From here I could see the whole room, the bookcases filled with books, files and memorabilia, the massive dark wood desk situated right opposite of the door and the art on the walls depicting various landscapes.

“They’re all legitimate, mostly 19th century European painters,” Jimin supplied immediately as he saw me watching the framed pieces, “Joonie-hyung and Tae have an interest in art. They occasionally buy some and put it in our houses or offices.” I felt myself steadily blushing more and more under his intense gaze, his blonde hair swept out of his face in a way that perfectly accentuated his sharp face and his plump reddish lips pulled into a soft smirk. It wasn’t the same way Yoongi smirked, no, this was a smirk of a man who knew he was beautiful and could sway people only with few heated looks and sweet words.

He slowly walked over and took a seat next to me, making me quickly look away and feign disinterest, almost going to the extent of picking at my nails just to put some barrier between us. I wasn’t used to encountering men like Park Jimin and I felt like a fish out of water here in his office, sitting on his no doubt extremely expensive couch.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked courteously, elegantly gesturing to the closed bar to my left. I immediately shook my head, already far too acquainted with how it went with them.

“I’m here by car,” I told him resolutely, but he only smiled sweetly. He shifted closer to me slightly, hand curling along the top of the sofa until his hand almost touched my shoulder, and he curled his fingers as if going to caress my arm. I felt like a stone statue, just sitting there watching him, terrified and nervous and confused in the face of his approach.

“I’m sure we could arrange a way for you to get home by other means,” he said leisurely, hand staying firmly put just a ghost’s breath away from the goosebumped skin of my upper arm. At this point my brain finally started catching up with me and going back online.

I knew he only flirted with me this aggressively for two reasons – either he was buying time or he was scoping me out just like Taehyung had back then when we first officially met. I was betting on the second option.

“No, thank you,” I finally said firmly, “I’m not really much of a drinker.” That had the man snorting and he relaxed into the soft pillows. I threw him a confused look at such a reaction.

“So I’ve heard,” he explained with an amused glint in his eyes, “Jin-hyung would love you. He’s always trying to get us to drink less.” Then he put a finger to his  pouting lips in a thinking motion, making a whole act of it with his eyes flitting from side to side as well.

“But on a second thought, he’s not currently too impressed with you,” Jimin giggled like we were sharing high school level secrets and not talking about extremely dangerous men potentially having it out for me, “So maybe he wouldn’t be too hot about your drinking habits.” With that he snickered some more, entertained eyes watching me with a disconcerting undertone of detachment and cold calculatedness.

So Jimin was the type to not censor himself too much, talking quite freely about things I could never get out of the others, even though the topics were still carefully measured. He didn’t seem like someone that tiptoed around things and rather preferred to be a little more open. But there was a deceptiveness in this approach as well and I imagined he would be quite good at slowly talking all of your secrets out of you.

“I’m sure he shares that sentiment with the driver,” I hesitatingly played along, on purpose choosing to not to use Jungkook’s name to spite him once Jimin told him about our conversation, “He seems to despise me. I truly have no idea why; I’ve never done anything to him.” I put on the innocence act so thickly it circled back into sarcasm, and I couldn’t help the little smirk at knowing that at least the youngest was the one person I would always manage to get pissed off. I didn’t seem to be having much luck with it with the others. Especially now that I would prefer to dodge all Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.

Jimin threw his head back with his hearty high-pitched laugh, delighted at the dig at their youngest. When his eyes trained back onto me, they were no less dangerous but a lot more intrigued. I realised that while he was sitting very comfortably with one leg under the other, side leaning on the sofa and his hand still hanging between us leisurely, I sat next to him as stiff as a log with my hands nervously picking at the hem of my t-shirt. I tried to relax a little more, but it seemed impossible next to such a natural predator. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I just stumbled right into a dragon’s mouth.

This guy was intense, and I suddenly found myself missing Yoongi’s annoying jabs and smug self-assured smirks. At least I could match his and Jungkook’s energy, but Jimin just kept throwing me off, and it didn’t help that he was one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen.

“While I do love this small talk at Kookie’s expense,” Jimin said finally after just staring at me trying to get comfortable with a barely concealed entertained grin, “But tell me, officer, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

He was back to his flirtatious sensual approach with the way he almost purred those words, trying to get a reaction out of me again. He almost succeeded, the blush attempting to rise to my cheeks, but I scolded myself and looked towards the desk to keep a barrier between us.

“Funnily enough, I’m actually looking for Yoongi,” I muttered, trying to sell it as a serve to knock him down a little, but I was too unsure of myself and honestly done with this whole fucking evening. Jimin pouted, his full lips curling down sullenly before they pulled into a smirk again.

“Figures, but here I was… hoping you’d finally come to meet me too,” he flirted some more, putting on almost a little breathless tone, “since all the others already got the pleasure.”

“I haven’t met the doctor yet,” I blurted out without thinking, immediately mashing my lips shut in embarrassment. Jimin giggled lightly.

“That’s true,” came his sing-song voice, “Thank you for comforting me.” Before I could say anything, there was a knock at the door. I watched as Jimin’s sweet flirty mask fell right off of his face, eyes flickering with a hint of irritation and expression turning colder in an instant.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” he said in what I assumed was his normal tone of voice, pretty face hardening with the hint of annoyance. I was totally dumbfounded, rendered speechless by such a switch up, eyes still glued to his form as he moved through the room to open the door. At least I knew he didn’t care about keeping up his performance in front of me, that had to count towards something. He probably got from me whatever it was he was looking for. I nervously went through our interaction up until now trying to decipher what it could have been, but came up empty.

Now that the sofa was empty and the man was on the other side of the room, I finally had space to breathe and sank a little into the lavish furnishing. The door swung open with one swift motion of his arm and without giving the person on the other side a chance, Jimin said: “I said no interruptions.” His eyes screamed some kind of warning to them and I straightened a little. “I have a guest,” were Jimin’s next words and the person wordlessly slinked away, Jimin immediately shutting the door.

I gave him a look, which he returned with an amused smile, much realer this time. There seemed to be something a little mocking in his eyes and it creeped me out, it made him seem much less human and more like a vampire that was about to suck me empty of my blood. I quickly shook my head to push that silly thought away and focused on him properly again.

“Sorry detective, but I’m sure you’d understand that I wouldn’t want to bore you with all the business talk,” he said pointedly, voice hiding a warning to me as well not to probe more. In these circumstances I had no other choice but to comply, I wasn’t properly armed to deal with him one on one at this point; and I’d rather not provoke him when I barely even knew him. Maybe I’d be a little braver with Yoongi present, but as it stood now I was simply at a disadvantage.

“Of course,” I replied just as courteously as when he invited me to sit on the sofa. To that Jimin gave me an amused smile but was obviously pleased with my quick surrender.

“I heard what you did in hyung’s office,” he stated suddenly matter-of-factly, and I was sure that if I had been drinking something I’d choke. The blush was fighting its way back onto my face having been confronted with the information like this by Jimin of all people, who was watching me entertained by my reaction.

“He had something of mine. Besides, I’m afraid that’s between me and Yoongi,” I managed to squeak out, avoiding his gaze to keep at least the illusion of unbotherness, “and Jungkook I guess.” Jimin leaned on the massive desk, making himself comfortable there as well, eyes now appraising me more sharply with all the sweetly flirty aura gone. I squirmed in my place under such scrutiny, nervousness hitting me in overwhelming waves.

“Well, you’re in luck, because one of them is making their way here right now,” Jimin said in the end, some of the sharpness melting away a little. I had no idea what he really was looking for, but whether he found it or not, he seemed at least a little satisfied with my reaction. Which didn’t help me calm down at all, he was still freaking me out but in a completely different way than Namjoon did. Yoongi definitely chose his companions well, all of these men had something in them that gave me the creeps.

“I’d hope it’s Yoongi, I’m not sure Jungkook coming here would mean anything good for me,” I shuddered at the thought, all of the pictures of the younger man with Hoseok and the implicit but very clear connection between them and their work resurfacing to the forefront of my mind and setting an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Jimin laughed, as carefree as ever, head lightly tipping back with the motion. When he looked back at me, something dangerous glinted in his eyes.

“You don’t even know how right you are, detective,” he remarked somewhat ominously, a dark edge creeping into his amused voice, “But I don’t think you need to worry about that right now.” The unspoken yet in there put me on edge, but I was well aware of what happened to people that posed a danger to Yoongi and his position. Even if he wouldn’t send a police officer to the bottom of the river, that didn’t mean I was safe from a potential retribution.

I returned his gaze as steadily as I could, trying to push down all the swirling wisps of fear and unsettlement licking at my heart but I had no idea how successful I really was. There was nothing I could read from Jimin’s carefully guarded face as we sat there for a few tense silent moments and sized each other up, before Jimin suddenly perked up again with a full grin and gestured to the bar again.

“You sure I can’t tempt you into a drink?” he tried for the third time and I almost for a few seconds considered saying yes, but quickly shut that part of me down. Instead I gave him a polite smile and shook my head, the tension creeping back into my back and shoulders the longer we sat there.

Jimin seemed to be quite content with leaving me to stew in my own head, watching amusedly as I squirmed around on the sofa and sent him nervous glances the longer the silence stretched on. I surely had no particular topics to discuss with him and Jimin was suddenly as quiet as a mouse.

Just as I was considering just getting up and leaving to escape the oppressive aura in the room, the door opened and my head snapped in the direction of the movement. At first I could only see a veiny calloused hand in a black jacket before slowly the rest of the man came into view. Yoongi walked in leisurely, like he was on his personal runway, a relaxed smirk on his face as his eyes flitted between the two of us. His hair was messy and it was the first time I saw him not perfectly put together and in more casual clothes.

The way my whole body decompressed in relief upon seeing his smug face was actually embarrassing and it left me flushed and avoiding his gaze. But Jimin was stressing me out for the past twenty minutes and it was impossible to match his energy like I’d learnt with Yoongi. With him it was already a stable ground for me, Jimin on the other hand left me scrambling to reconsider my strategy every few minutes. I hadn’t even realised, but I was mentally exhausted after the almost half an hour we spent here alone, not to mention the long draining day I had.

I felt like a little kid whose mom left him in the cashier line to run for something last minute and finally returned just in time to handle the check out.

He didn’t speak to me at all at first, instead went straight for Jimin. They exchanged pleasantries and whispered to each other for a moment before the blond man moved back to the sofa to sit down next to me, while Yoongi made himself comfortable in the big leather chair behind the table.

I sent a wary glance at the new occupant and inched a little away from him, my nerves so high strung I felt like a bow string about to snap. Finally, Yoongi’s amused eyes set on me and his lips curled arrogantly as they usually did, and I found some security in the familiarity of it all.

“How sweet of you to turn half the Seoul upside down for me,” was how he greeted me and I couldn’t help the scowl, “The boys told me how desperate you were for me.” That could have only meant the two bouncers at Pied Piper that were just intent on screwing me over and playing with me, and now no doubt intent on embarrassing me further. I fought off any kind of blush that could be induced by his choice of words and instead glared at him in annoyance.

“What can I say, I’m used to always finding you when I want it,” I retorted back firmly, cursing them both for coming out with such flirty personas, “You’re quite the creature of habit.” Yoongi’s lips spread in a mean grin, eyes glinting with something darker than I was used from him.

“I was enjoying some company tonight,” he said matter-of-factly, eyes quickly flicking up to me to gauge my reaction, “Forgot I have a needy little detective to take care of.” There was an actual tinge of annoyance in his voice as he said that, and it took me a moment to clock it. I rolled my eyes at him so vehemently I felt a warning pang of an onsetting headache, now wishing I had said yes to Jimin’s offer so I could theatrically sip on a drink.

That explained a lot about tonight – his unknown location, his rumpled appearance and the sudden twinge of irritation that was so hard to come by with this man. Jimin probably pulled him here before he got any action and now he was mad at me for ruining his fun. My lips immediately curled up, mouth fighting off the huge, entertained grin that wanted to split my face in half, a laugh clawing its way out of my throat, and I lost to it. I quickly turned my head away from him before the laugh overtook me, politely trying to hide the amusement with my hand, but to no avail. He still saw my shoulders shaking and my barely concealed snickering.

When I turned back around, expression still painted with too much mirth, I found that his usually smug smirk was twitching in displeasure on his face. It almost made me want to laugh again, like when you’ve finally calmed down after a fit and then made eye contact with your friend and started all over again, but this time I more or less managed to swallow it down. No pun intended. A new wave of giggles threatened to hit me as I rode the high of finally being the one that laughs at him being mad and not the other way around, but I curbed my enthusiasm somewhat. And to think it was about something as stupid as this. Well, if for nothing else, at least today’s meeting cockblocked him, that would be some payback.

“I’m so sorry for ruining your evening fun,” I managed to choke out, still fighting to calm down a little, “I’m sure you can get your dick sucked tomorrow.” Jimin next to me also seemed to be pushing down some giggles of his own, quickly gulping down whatever it was he had in a glass that I didn’t notice him pouring, eyes stubbornly watching the door instead of his disgruntled hyung.

There was just something so human about Yoongi getting mad about this and it reminded me that no matter what, we were both just people, not only criminals and detectives. It made me feel like more like I was attending a college party instead of chasing after a mobster.

“So what do you need tonight?” Yoongi grumbled finally, giving Jimin a chastising look, “I doubt you came here to laugh at me.” I smirked wickedly again, really fucking wishing I had a glass for the dramatic effect, but instead I just leisurely drummed on my knee with my fingers.

“Actually, funny you say that,” I told him smugly, “because I did.” A spark of recognition bloomed through Yoongi’s eyes, and he suddenly relaxed into the chair, the arrogant aura back full force. My heart stuttered a little in anxiousness, hoping I’d manage to stay on the high horse for a little while longer.

“I see,” Yoongi purred out in the manner that annoyed me the most when we interacted, gaze lazily sliding over me from the corner of his eyes, “so this is about the tracker.” I gulped, holding onto the confidence I felt just a minute ago for dear life and trying to come across just as relaxed and smug as he was all the time. He had much more practice in that though, and I would always tell on myself somehow.

Not really thinking of a smart retort fast enough, I only hummed and smiled in what I hoped was a mysterious way. That made Yoongi laugh a little, but it wasn’t demeaning, no, it was more a laugh of incredulity, the kind that didn’t set me alight with fiery rage but the kind that had me preening inside knowing I’d managed to one up him, if only for a moment.

“I must say, I cannot quite explain with words the disbelief I felt upon discovering that a police officer just looted my office desk and so shamelessly stole from me. And right on camera too,” Yoongi’s voice was amused, laced with little puffs of laugh, “How very naughty of you, detective.” He tsked at me playfully, but there was something else in his voice. Something that took me embarrassingly long to recognise, something that for a brief confusing moment made me strangely proud and happy and then promptly filled me with dread. Awe. Respect. Yoongi was delighted with what I’d done.

“But very good, officer,” the man continued, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil, “Well played. And now we’ve switched roles, haven’t we? Now you have something of mine.” I felt like I was hit with a bucket full of ice, something freezing and acidic setting into the pit of my stomach and making my insides churn. I sat there, totally petrified, watching the dark-haired man sitting behind the massive desk like he owned half the world and all the people in it. And with terror I realised, he did.

“But because I am so gracious and because, as you put it, I have an endless supply of illegal shit,” he winked quickly, using the words I’d told him just few weeks earlier while giving him a parking ticket, “I’ll allow you to keep it. No need to return. What’s a tracker or two between friends, isn’t that right officer?”

I finally managed to school my expression, reacting to his lopsided smirk with a steely cold grin of my own as we stared each other down, completely ignoring the presence of another person in the room with us. Inside I stoked the fires of anger and annoyance I felt all the times we’ve interacted before, anything to override the horror that gripped me at how genuinely proud I was for a moment knowing I did something he truly had to respect.

“We’re many things, Min Yoongi,” I growled out, “But friends definitely isn’t one of them.” To that he only lazily smirked my way, leaning back into his chair.

“Aren’t we?” he asked jovially, “Isn’t a part of what friends do that they keep each other’s secrets? We’ve been doing a very good job of that lately.” I scowled at him, but before I could say anything, he continued.

“Speaking of that,” he drawled out, “I’m quite disappointed with you. I thought you’d have my file memorised, but obviously you don’t keep that much of a close eye on me.” There was a beat of silence during which I only looked at him mildly irritated and confused, not knowing where this jab was coming from.

A giggle to my right pulled my eyes there and I once again found myself under the intense scrutiny of Jimin’s eyes. His were sharply watching our exchange, some sort of dark joy setting into them making me shudder.

“You forgot hyung’s birthday,” Jimin drawled out, fake pouting at me. He was once again putting on the act he had when I arrived here and I narrowed my eyes at him, now more confident and definitely angrier than I was before.

“I waited for whole two weeks, thinking you’d bring it up, but I see that it completely slipped your mind,” Yoongi immediately jumped on, the two men sending each other giggly looks and I realised they were taking the piss out of me. The fight drained out of me and instead I committed to memory how Yoongi seemed to be more relaxed today and even joked around like this with Jimin, joining in on his mischief. I wondered if it was because it was Jimin or because it was due to today’s circumstances, but he was different and it had my insides twist in a confusing cocktail of emotions.

“The only time I’ll wish you happy birthday is after I’ve put you behind bars,” I say, making my voice as impassive and steady as possible, throwing in a little weak but still hopefully mean smile. Yoongi’s eyes on me sharpened a little, the smirk growing darker, as if he was challenging me, as if he was both amused by and supportive of my resolution.

“Well, it looks like I’ll never hear those two words from you, but don’t worry,” he gave me another wide grin, “when your birthday comes in autumn, I’ll be the first to congratulate you.”

I didn’t like to think about how close I was skirting the boundary with Yoongi, that there were lines smudging from a police officer and a criminal into just rivals ribbing each other and egging each other on, trying to irritate the other more every time they meet. When I met him with him, I rarely tried to do any constructive helpful investigating, instead we just barked at each other and threw jabs around until one of us grew too irritated to continue. I wasn’t particularly proud of myself in those moments.

The moment I walked into his world, I ceased to be a detective and turned into a little annoying brat just trying to provoke a guy I didn’t like.

The last time we saw each other was a huge breakthrough for me in this regard. I realised just how much I was playing with fire, smudging those lines. I had to be able to keep my head on straight when we talked, I had to pay more attention to useful details instead of trying to get a rise out of him. I had to go back to square one and reassess the situation, find a clear goal and only interact with him in a way that helps me reach it.

The strange feelings surrounding Yoongi’s sudden clear sign of approval of my ways, that I rather decided not to unpack yet. I decided to stay away for some time anyway, and it would help me avoid this for as long as possible.

That’s how I found myself sitting in my room one Saturday evening, staring at the fucking map wall in my apartment surrounded by files upon files detailing cruel and vicious murders. Since my map was quite full with the information I gathered from my unlawful loitering (as Jungkook once put it when he bumped into me around the office building), and adding more unrelated info to it would only make it messy, I bought another map.

I cleared out another wall, shuffling furniture away, taking down pictures and decorations so I would have enough space for a fucking murder map. Right across from my bed. I got to wake up to this every day, lucky me. But it helped me orientate myself between everything that was brought up. And this one at least felt a little more temporary.

I started with Yoongi’s, moving some strings around. Removing Hoseok’s bright yellow string from the Songhyeong-dong warehouse, I sighed as I remembered that whole fiasco. It was probably safe to say that he either didn’t have his base there, or he barely spent his time there anyway and thus it wouldn’t be very useful. But he had to have some office, otherwise it would be impossible to keep up with everything. Yoongi and Namjoon had their offices, Taehyung’s was in Pied Piper and Jimin’s in the Rose, Jin had his practice, on Jungkook’s I had a hunch – the only one I still had no clear address on was Hoseok. And I wasn’t even sure where he lived. I knew he moved about the docks during the day a lot, but he had to have a base.

But there was always a possibility that Hoseok’s office was shared with their youngest, which was a member of the gang that I explored the least. First of all, he was impossible to trail, but that might have been when I still had the tracker on so it could be worth another try. The second part was the one that truly kept me away from him though. He didn’t hesitate to show his distaste in me, and I already started to catch wind of how he and Yoongi butted heads when it came to how much I was allowed to engage. Thus, if he caught me focusing on him, it could potentially have some devastating consequences and I was hesitant to risk that.

But – I knew where he could have his office. I mean, it must have been there unless they pulled a fast one and put him into the same building as Yoongi and Namjoon, which I thought I would have noticed by now.

Jungkook was the owner of a security company, the one that kept an eye on Yoongi and employed his closest bodyguards, like that guy that brought me coffee while I was staking out Hoseok that I later found in the military database as Choi Soobin, one of the top operatives of Jungkook’s company. He owned it in the same way that Taehyung owned the Pied Piper or Jimin owned The Rose, but from some surface digging it seemed this business was one that Yoongi directly interacted with the least.

Hoseok was formally employed by a shipping company under Yoongi’s wide wings of corporations, but their headquarters were a small rundown building by the Bukseong Dock and when I was messing around there, I didn’t see him come in once. And if their job in the gang was truly so similar, it would make sense that Hoseok would also be stationed in Jungkook’s company, also considering it was much closer to the centre and thus closer to Yoongi and the others, which the port wasn’t.

I would have to investigate that properly, bite the bullet and follow around Jungkook for a while and see whether I would have more luck in locating the ever so elusive sunshine of the group. Problem was more that I would never be allowed to come in like with Yoongi’s office. Even if Hoseok was as forthcoming as Taehyung and Jimin, Jungkook would never allow that unless I brought the proper paperwork or had a legitimate reason for my visit. I doubt I’d make it past the reception.

I jotted this all down around the map and moved on to the other a little smaller one that was now occupying the neighbouring wall. For that one I brought a whole new set of pins and colourful strings as I would need a lot of colours. I spent the last two days going through the extra cases Sunmi and Seungcheol brought over, not eliminating anything yet and just soaking up the information.

So, that night, I spent hours meticulously going through each file and marking the place on the map along with a note with the victim’s name, date of murder and manner of death. It was a gruesome and macabre way of spending my evening, but I had to see it all before me like this to start making sense of anything.

I ended up with fifteen additional spots across the whole of Seoul, each marking a murder potentially linked to my “friend” Min Yoongi. Lastly, I added in the pin and information for our main case, the multiple homicide that kickstarted all of this.

Roughly I went across the areas that I knew were around Yoongi’s businesses and therefore “his turf” with a red marker, already seeing some overlay. Unfortunately I didn’t have that much of an extensive knowledge on Kim’s turf, but I’d fill it in eventually. For now, I focused on trying to see whether any of the murders took place around any places I knew were owned by the Min gang and when I found some, I marked them with a big red circle. Those would be my priority.

Huffing out a tired sigh, I went to sleep that night with a heavy heart and brain that just wouldn’t shut up.

Monday morning it was finally time to meet up with Seungcheol and Sunmi at the scene of the murder, as they were preoccupied before now. I could barely sleep the night before, both nervousness about seeing it and excitement about being involved not letting me have a peaceful night. Even though the place must have been long since cleaned up, I still never went to an active crime scene like this before and my stomach was tied up in knots knowing I was about to walk somewhere people have been murdered.

Thus I found myself nervously shuffling from foot to foot in front of the warehouse at 6 am, a whole hour before our agreed time. I told myself I would at least check out the perimeter, but really I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in without a warrant and all the paperwork was with Minjoon. In my arms I nervously clutched the copied files, the contents burning through to my sweaty hands. I spent some time looking around the port, finding my gaze straying south ever so often.

Just the little pond across, there was the cursed Songhyeon-dong warehouse. If I strained my eyes real hard I could almost see its roof laughing at me and reminding me of my shame. Yoongi’s warehouses were mainly in that area, with the bigger one in Songhyeon-dong and a few others scattered through Dong-gu and Manseok-dong. He pretty much ruled over the Bukseong Dock area and it was as firmly his turf as it could be, while the Kims mainly kept themselves to the smaller Bukhang Port just above.

The docks were a subject of huge contention between the two gangs, and while they supposedly talked it out and put the conflict to rest, anyone could see that they weren’t on good terms while pretending to be amicable. The Kims, as the second biggest family ruling over Seoul, have always tried to get rid of Yoongi to move to the top spot, and thus there were many clashes between the two, from which Yoongi every single time emerged victorious. He even took some land from them and pushed them more north. After many years of fighting they finally “made a pact”, but truly it was just a promise to keep out of each other’s way.

The ports being this close together only continued to bring up more tensions though, as they were practically stepping on each other’s toes.

If the assumption was true and this murder was the mark of a starting war, we were potentially entering a truly turbulent and truly bloody era in Seoul gang history. I shuddered only thinking about it. Though Yoongi would likely not let himself be dethroned; the fight would absolutely get very ugly very soon. It was in everybody’s best interest that this got dealt with before it got out of hand.

As the violent crime unit arrived a little later, we fell into a comfortable polite small talk, exchanging some jokes tentatively and feeling out the atmosphere between us. When I watched their friendly banter, a pang of jealousy hit my heart again, the disappointment with my own unit’s behaviour still weighing heavy on me, especially when both Seungcheol and Sunmi started asking me about my Academy years and showering me with positive comments and praises about my ranking until I was a blushing giggling mess. For a split second the proud glint in Yoongi’s eyes as he talked about the trackers flashed through my mind and I batted it away so forcefully I almost physically jerked, instead getting filled with guilt and unease. Truly, it was funny how okay I was with committing a crime until Yoongi praised me for it, how pathetically starved for attention and recognition I was that for a shameful few moments I felt pride about it.

Taking a deep breath to calm the raging storm inside me, I tuned back into the excited chatter of the two other officers. I would have time to make this right, but now I had to focus here.

“Are you nervous at all?” Seungcheol asked the moment he noticed me turning my attention to them and I stuttered for a bit, not expecting an immediate question.

“Yeah, I am, a little bit,” I answered him truthfully, looking down at my shoes to avoid the intensity of the topic, “but everybody’s gotta get through it. There’s a first for everything.” I gave them a little uncertain smile and Sunmi patted my shoulder in a cool yet slightly awkward gesture, showing she really wasn’t sure how to approach this situation with enough tact. I laughed at her a little and immediately felt the tension drain, quickly melting into the amicable atmosphere.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said in the end, “and if anything happens, just let us know.” I nodded at her all smiley, muscles much more loose now knowing I wasn’t completely alone here after all. The bitterness at my own unit’s approach still lingered at the edge of my mind, but I tried my best to ignore it and focus on the building before us.

“Did you manage to go through some of the additional cases?” Sunmi spoke up again, watching me casually with her hands hanging off of her jeans pockets. She had a leather jacket on, and her black hair was done in a sort of a messy bun at the back of her head, and I marvelled at how she wasn’t absolutely frying in that, considering the temperatures were steadily and abruptly rising.

“I went through them roughly, but I haven’t started putting them through the database yet,” I answered quickly, maybe a little too eager to speak to someone about the work I’ve done so far, “I put them on a map to see where they took place though. Trying to put into perspective how close they were to Yoon- I mean Min’s establishments.” I cursed myself for the slip up, getting too used to calling him only Yoongi and forgetting that not everyone would be totally cool with me calling him so familiarly when I supposedly wasn’t in contact with him at all. To me he right about now should be only some shadowy dark concept, a phantom that someone else is currently chasing after. Not a very real and very annoying man that I’ve cursed out to his face several times a month since December.

“That’s a pretty good start though,” Seungcheol told me warmly, patting my shoulder, “Once you start going through them properly, keep us updated on anything suspicious that crops up.” I nodded shyly, giving them both a genuine smile and got two very enthusiastic grins back. They continued with the chatter and I kind of listened on half an ear while nervously watching the road for the arrival of others.

Minjoon and Hwang ended up being ten minutes late, rolling up to the warehouse in a station car and with their own copied files of the crime. For a moment we stood there and exchanged yet more pleasantries, but I barely paid attention to whatever was being said. In my mind I kept being pulled to the southern Bukseong Dock, somewhat bitterly pondering whether Hoseok is currently there running around like a busy bee, no care in the world.

Assuming this murder was his work, he really could have done this during lunch break and then cooly return right to his job, like nothing even happened. That’s how close it was.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Minjoon gently laying his hand on my shoulder and with his head gesturing towards the warehouse. I gave him a queasy smile, nervous about entering and just generally guilty about how I’ve been handling everything, the mounting feeling of standing on the precipice of disaster following me around for the past few days, but I swallowed it all down and followed.

The warehouse was small and stuffy, the atmosphere dark with no real windows and no real way to get light inside. There was some furniture left, mostly pushed away from the middle of the room except for one old green sofa and a rackety desk with a few dusty chairs at the other end of the warehouse. There was a lot of mess lying around on the floor, mostly torn bloodied papers, obviously showing signs of the struggle that took place here.

There was a lot of scruff marks on the floor, along with dark stains covering most of the wearied pavement, and on a second look the sofa had similar streaks over it too. I tried to ignore it, stepping from foot to foot and looking over the remnants of the carnage. Due to the warehouse being closed off, there was still plenty of police tape holding onto the doors and the walls with even though police have already cleared it out.

We all simultaneously opened the files and pulled out the pictures, putting the space into the perspective of the crime. I half listened to Seungcheol and Sunmi go over the details again, talking about how they got the call and how they found the place when they came.

“We checked the perimeter too, but they were already gone by the time we got here,” the brunette said while nonchalantly looking around the space. “They must have been warned and ran,” Minjoon mumbled, but barely even looked up from the file, still going through the information again. Sunmi hummed, stopping by the sofa and turning to look at us.

Seuncheol talked some more about what the scene looked like when they arrived, pictures in hands, and I listened as attentively as I could, but there really wasn’t much added that wasn’t already said, so I just bided my time looking around on my own before we return to the station so I could start going through these other files. I also itched to pull Minjoon aside and ask what about this crime struck the unit as Min’s murders and not the Kim’s, what made them decide that this actually was Yoongi related.

I only tuned back in when the conversation turned to issues I haven’t heard anyone speak on yet. The warrants.

“It’s hard to push them through sometimes,” Sunmi was just saying with all the other men nodding solemnly in agreement when I started paying attention again, at first confused what she meant.

“We haven’t even managed to find an angle to slip by easier,” Hwang suddenly piped in after standing in silence in a corner the whole time, just watching us talk, “We even tried getting the info on who’s on shift when, but still it’s hard for them to come through. We’re still working on getting that issue solved.” I looked confusedly to Minjoon, never before having heard them discuss this.

I knew that a lot of the shit I did with Yoongi wouldn’t be enough to get a warrant authorised by the court. The tracking, the tailing, the taking shit from his office, I had warrants for none of that and as long as there were no warrants, anything I found couldn’t be used in the court for I was technically getting the information illegally. I could maybe send in anonymous tips for the police to investigate, but as a detective I couldn’t be bringing this kind of evidence to the table, that was solely for me and for the purpose of better understanding Yoongi and getting a better angle at taking him down legally.

But I had no idea the unit actually did have trouble with getting legitimate warrants against Yoongi, or whoever they were talking about. In the winter, when I asked, Minjoon said the stake outs weren’t done anymore because it took too much time and manpower and the outcome wasn’t good enough to go through with that (I myself found how tailing them was a thankless job that took weeks for a single piece of information to come out of it, so I understood), but he did mention a brief undercover gig, which would need a warrant. Since then, not much has been happening as it seemed that whatever approach or angle, we would hit a stone wall. Yoongi continued to appear impenetrable.

“It must be someone high up then,” Sunmi mused out loud, a hard expression setting over her face and turning her features into stone, “If the warrants aren’t coming through no matter what day or time, it must be someone high.” That got the men humming in agreement again, a sombre atmosphere falling over the warehouse.

“No matter who it is, we might be having trouble getting things authorised, but I would hope that now that there’s five of us on this and we have two whole units backing us up, that they wouldn’t try to mess with it too much,” Minjoon ended the conversation again, everyone now gearing up to leave.

I heard Sunmi say something to Hwang as they moved towards the main entrance, but I hung back for a moment. I’d begun realising in the past few months that I mostly preferred looking over things by myself, for as much as I craved the community, I found myself focusing better when I was on my own, so I wanted to take one last look before I left, comparing it to the pictures. As my eyes flitted from the pictures to the space, comparing every little thing I could spot, I slowly started fleshing out the crime a little more in my mind, putting it into a real space and studying the before and after.

My brain had already started filtering out the actual violence happening in them and I barely paid notice while I tried to focus on the other smaller details in the background. Most of it remained the same, with the exceptions of some of the mess cleared out and a barrel that was smouldering in the photos was now nowhere to be seen.

I was suddenly brought back into the present when a hand clasped my shoulder and I jumped, mouth opened to yelp and my heart almost beating out of my chest. Minjoon came around me with an amused chuckle, hand still firm where he held, and I gave him an embarrassed smile. I’ve been spacing out so much around them lately and it made me really jumpy, if I didn’t get my shit together quick I’d end up looking like a nervous wreck. Which, to be honest, wasn’t that far from the truth.

But there was something strangely vulnerable about showing my nervousness in this situation and I didn’t feel comfortable enough with Minjoon immediately assuming it was all about the blood and murder, when so many events have been weighing down on me these past few days that he didn’t even know about.

As predicted Minjoon looked at me empathically, eyes softening as he moved to pat my back a little. Then he just gestured towards the door. “We’re about to leave, I’ll drive you to the station,” he offered and started pulling us out without waiting for my response. I let him until we stood outside with his car right in front of us.

“I drove here, so I have to go by my car, but thanks for the offer,” I replied softly, a tight-lipped smile making itself home on my face since the feelings of discomfort haven’t fully left me. I hated being perceived as weak and this whole situation was driving me up the wall, but I fought myself to keep it together.

I looked at Minjoon again and by the look on his face and the unsure curve of his mouth as he was about to open it and speak, I was sure he was going to ask me if I was okay, so I beat him to the punch and directed the conversation elsewhere.

“That before, what you were talking about,” I said firmly, ignoring the look of surprise on his face at getting interrupted before even saying anything, “does that mean that there are moles between the prosecutors?” The man schooled his face well, going with the flow as if this was the direction the conversation was going to take from the beginning, and nodded his head with slight unease hanging onto his posture and aura.

“Yeah, we’ve known for a while, but we cannot identify who it is,” the senior detective confirmed, eyes turning a little hard at the thought, “There’s more of them, some even in our lines, we’re sure of that, but it’s hard to go after moles unless you go full scorched earth.” I agreed absent-mindedly, in head already going through the roster of the prosecutors I’ve encountered.

“It’d make sense that he’d have someone in his pocket,” I mused out loud, “probably someone who makes sure the requests don’t make it too high and get turned around at the first corner.” To that Minjoon just hummed and nodded, the conversation fizzling out. We looked around for a moment, just awkwardly standing there, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Hwang impatiently drumming on the hood of Minjoon’s car, stepping from foot to foot and looking more irritated by the second.

I seized the chance to end this exchange here before Minjoon brought it back around to me or before Hwang finally lost it and found a way to be mad at me for this as well. I clapped my hands together loudly.

“Well, we better go,” I let out with faux cheer and started moving down the road to where my own car stood, leaving a stuttering surprised Minjoon behind. Suddenly a thought popped into my head and I turned around on my heel, surprising the poor man even more when I abruptly back-tracked.

“By the way, there’s something I’ve been wondering,” I started, claiming the detective’s attention once more as he turned to me and stepped a little closer, “how did you realise this was the Mins? When you circled back to it, how did you know?” Minjoon’s face bloomed into a seasoned detective’s smile and I could tell he was battling a little between trying to stay mysterious and giving me a whole lesson on gang violence, and I couldn’t fight my own smile too at watching him struggle.

“I thought about it a little, looked at the crime scene photos again,” Minjoon started explaining, “Kims are more known to use guns, while Mins don’t that much, but they are capable of both. This was a homicide that mixed those together, so it really could have been anyone, but usually the cases that we end up attributing to the Kims have a little different MO.” I looked at him expectantly, hoping he’d expand on that, and I could see on his amused face that he was purposedly keeping me in suspense.

“Well, there’s not much to it really,” he continued finally, “in the few cases that are similar to this that we have and we consider them Kim family territory, they stormed in and probably first overpowered them and seemingly tied them up, based on the positioning of the bodies. While the Mins are always up for some good old-fashioned thrashing, when they don’t have time for clean-up they leave more mess. Which would explain why they’re so focused on the clean-up.”

“So when you came back to this case, it seemed more unorganised than if the Kims were behind it,” I finished for him, putting the two and two together quite easily now that he served it to me on a silver platter. He gave me a cheeky grin and nodded.

“It’s all assumptions, but it’s the idea we have about these two disposal teams. It’s always hard to tell and violence has a way masking things and making everything pretty murky. You never really know, but we still try to put some order into it,” Minjoon brought it all to close. Then he once again opened his mouth to speak more and once again got interrupted before anything could come out, but this time it was by disgruntled Hwang who was by now throwing us pointed glares. He cleaned his throat loudly and gestured towards the car, and both me and Minjoon suddenly burst into motion without any other words spoken, only sending each other a little apologetic look as we moved towards our own cars.

I ended up sitting there for a moment longer, once again going through the file of the homicide and this time truly looking at the bodies and their placement. This truly was just pure violence, but now looking at it through Minjoon’s eyes and seeing it as the more violent violence, I still couldn’t fully put it into perspective. The feeling of unease returned, and I quickly turned the pages until I was reading through the report for the thousandth time.

Evidence retrieved from the scene: barrel used to dispose of paperwork. Analysis inconclusive, nothing restored. Well, at least one mystery was solved.

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Taglist (open): @wobblewobble822 @viankiss @jjkwifestyle @mortal-body-timelesssoul @fullmetalavatar54

@ot72025 @jalexad @eleni-cherie @m00njinnie

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: requested by anon :)

Warnings: 18+! fluff/suggestive/angst. mention of alcohol, cheating, heartbreak.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: After a false accusation, you changed your life around. But it came back to haunt you after you met Sihtric.

wordcount: 4.5k

Masterlist

'You're still ruining lives!'

Brida: you're a such a fucking bitch!

You: ?? wow okay

Brida: I can't believe you fucked Ragnar!

You: wait

You: WHAT?!

You stared at the incoming texts from Brida, your best friend, who was accusing you of sleeping with her boyfriend, Ragnar. Which you really hadn't. Yes, you were a bit of a bitch and you enjoyed playing the players, so to say, but Ragnar wasn't a player. Or so you thought.

You: I would never do that!

You: first of all, you're my best friend!

You: you know I don't mess with my friends' boyfriends!! I can believe you're accusing me of this!

You: I have no idea where you are getting this story from…

Brida: Aethelwold told me!

You: are you fucking serious?!

You: you're believing that piece of weasel shit over me?!

Brida: fuck you! You fucking whore!!!

And just like that, your best friend had blocked you. And you'd soon find out she deleted you from all her social media, as had Ragnar. You weren't one to easily get upset, or to cry, but this had seriously left you with a horrible feeling. So you were upset, and you did cry. 

And in the following days you abruptly changed your mindset as well as your lifestyle. You had enough of messing around with douchebags, even if they deserved it. For years you enjoyed giving fuckboys a taste of their own shitty medicine, but look where it has gotten you. You suddenly realised your days of fucking in a public toilet or, worse, somewhere in a dark corner on the street with some jerk were over. 

No more messing around. No more boys in general for a while. It was time to grow up.

When you finally downloaded a dating app again, you hadn't dated or messed with any guys for almost a year and half. On the app you quickly matched with a guy named Uhtred, who was quite handsome. You went out on a date but, as nice as he was, you didn't feel that romantic spark. However, there was an instant friendship. You kept in touch and became good friends. You soon found out Uhtred knew Brida too. He told you he had a falling out with her about a year ago, and you told him you hadn't heard from her in a while either. You weren't proud of your past and you were still hurting from the false accusation, so you figured there was no reason to tell Uhtred why you and Brida stopped talking. 

In the following months you also became friends with Uhtred's friends, and he even tried to set you up with Osferth, which you thankfully declined. He was sweet, but not your type. And his other friend, Finan, who was a handsome Irish man, was smitten by a girl named Eadith. But everyone knew that relationship would never work out, except for Finan himself, so he kept chasing her. 

And then you met Sihtric.

Sihtric was a gorgeous and stunning Dane, who was also a sweetheart and a jokester. He was tall and very well built. He had a tattoo on his neck and some on his fingers, and his beautiful face had a few scars, as did the rest of his body. He had a short goatee, a sweet smile, and his eyes were two different colours, which he seemed to easily enchant you with once you noticed it. Overall, Sihtric had a rugged look, which made him smoking hot and sexy as hell. He had the most outrageous haircut you had ever seen when you first met; one side completely shaved off while on the other side he had kept his dark curls. And when Uhtred introduced him to you, on a random night out clubbing, you were instantly head over heels. And to your luck, so was Sihtric. 

Your relationship started off hot and heavy. That same night you first met, you already went home with him. You had been sexless for nearly two years when you met him, and no man had ever aroused you as much as Sihtric had that first night. The way he danced with you in the club, grinding his crotch against your buttocks as you felt his big hands on your hips. And the way his muscular chest was pressed against your back, so he could lean the side of his face against yours, staying close. And the sound of his sexy laugh in your ear, when you brought your hands up behind you, feeling his curls and the slight stubble underneath your fingertips while resting the back of your head onto his broad shoulder, dancing to the smooth beat of the music together. And his accent when he spoke to you, made your knees weak and your core heat up. You were desperate for a good fuck that night, with a good guy. Not the regular douchebags from your past, you never slept with them out of love. And you could immediately tell Sihtric was a good guy, which made you want to make love with him even more. And to your surprise, he made the first move that night.

'You want to come home with me, beautiful?' Sihtric asked after a few hours, his lips grazed your ear as he spoke, his arms circled around you from behind, 'but… I want to be clear that I'm not a one night stand guy though. So if that's what you're looking for, I'm not your guy.'

You smiled and turned around, placed your hands on his chest while his moved down your back, respectfully resting on your ass, never making it inappropriate. You pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to lean in.

'I don't do one night stands anymore either,' you said in his ear, not quite yelling, but loud enough to be heard over the music.

You leaned slightly back and stared up in his eyes, then you both smiled. 

'But, yeah, I'd love to go home with you!' you said after you had pushed yourself up your toes again.

And so Sihtric was quick to call a cab while you grabbed your bag, and you went home with him. At the time, Sihtric had only just moved out of his shared place with Finan, to a new and trendy apartment building, where he lived on the seventh floor. And while the elevator took you up to his floor, you had already rid Sihtric of his leather belt, and he had accidentally pulled a few buttons off your blouse, in an eager attempt to kiss his way down from your neck, until his lips were in between your clavicles. 

Sihtric fumbled with his keys, trying to open his front door while he held you in his arms. Your legs around his waist, arms around his neck and your back pressed up against the door, while his lips never left yours and his tongue remained in your mouth. Once inside, Sihtric kicked his off boots while he still held you in his strong arms. 

He threw you on his bed with a grin, and he fucked you like no man had ever done before. The way he could switch so easily between gentle and passionate, to rough with an almost violent pace made you scream out his name all night. He pleased you with his mouth, tongue, fingers and his cock, and it was the best sex you ever had in your life; because it was honest and there was a real connection.

And by the time Sihtric had made you finish for a third time that night, you knew you had fallen in love.

You and Sihtric grew close real fast, and you were now dating for about six months. Sihtric was an absolute, hopeless romantic. Not a week went by where he wouldn't show up at your door with flowers, or him leading you towards his kitchen, because he had cooked yet another delicious meal for you without you even asking. And you made him the happiest man alive by leaving little notes around his house before you had to leave, or secretly shoved them inside his pockets so he'd find them later, on which you wrote things such as:

I love you, pretty boy x

Or…

You were so good to me last night, I promise I'll be good to you tonight.

And…

By the time you'll read this, I'll be missing you so badly already…

But Sihtric's favourite notes were the ones he'd find in his kitchen, when he came home after an evening shift, while you were half asleep in his bed already, which would say:

I left you dinner in the oven, and you can eat me for dessert x

You couldn't keep your eyes, hands or mouths away from each other, whether it was in private or in public. Apart from going to work during the day, you were basically inseparable. And while you didn't officially live together, you spent most weekends, evenings and nights together, and you both knew it would only be a matter of weeks before one of you would give up your own apartment and fully move in. And in truth, you both couldn't wait.

While you were completely occupied with each other most of the time, you still made sure to go out with your friends every weekend. And like every Saturday, you found yourself in the same club you first met Sihtric at, dancing with your hot boyfriend and having drinks with the rest of the guys. Uhtred had finally found himself a lady a few weeks ago, Gisela, who kept you company when both your boyfriends had to show off and do some silly armwrestling competition on a table, near the bar. 

And as the night progressed, you naturally ended up in Sihtric's arms again, dancing and simply having a good time. You didn't know that while you were all over your boyfriend, one of the guys you messed with years ago had walked into the club; Aethelred. And he had been watching you for a good moment already, determined to ruin your night. And after you told Sihtric you had to use the restroom and gave him a kiss before you left his arms, Aethelred made his way over to your boyfriend.

'Is she your girlfriend?' he asked, 'the one that just walked off?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric furrowed his brow, 'why?'

'Nah,' Aethelred said, 'I used to know her. Real cunt of a woman,' he said and sipped his drink nonchalantly.

'Excuse me?' Sihtric felt his blood boil at the words of the stranger.

'Yeah,' Aethelred shrugged, 'she led me on, man. We fucked once and then she strung me along for weeks. Saying she was into me and that she loved me, but she didn't have time to meet up after that one night, then she suddenly blocked my number and ghosted me. I found out later that's what she does. She's a fucking black widow, mate. You better watch yourself. She'll lure you in, only to fuck you, then she'll devour you and after that she'll spit you out when she had enough, and leave. On to the next guy…'

Sihtric stared at the young man, confused, but also concerned. Why would someone make a story like this up, he thought, there had to be some truth in it. You had told him once that you had a wild period in your life, but you didn't go into full detail, as Sihtric said it didn't matter. You were his girl now, the past was in the past. He just had no idea what it actually was you had done, and he suddenly worried you were playing him.

You walked back into the crowded place but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Aethelred, the biggest douchebag of all, talking with Sihtric. When you had messed with Aethelred, years ago, he was married, and he was a real asshole towards women. He deserved to be played with, and he knew it too, but he would never forgive you for making him feel like a fool.

You took a deep breath and walked up to Sihtric, who looked a little conflicted.

'Hey, babe,' you smiled and threw your arms around him.

'H-hey,' he smiled weakly.

'Hi,' Aethelred grinned when you met his eyes, but you ignored him, to which he looked sour. 

'Long time no see,' he said, 'I'm sure you remember me. I see you've got yourself a new victim.'

'What is your problem?' you hissed and gave him a shove with your shoulder.

'You are my problem!' Aethelred snarled as he stumbled a few steps back.

Uhtred, Osferth and Finan noticed the commotion and came over, just when Sihtric tried to diffuse the situation, his arms around your waist to pull you away from Aethelred when he brought his fist up, ready to punch you in the face.

'Watch it, you fucking prick!' Sihtric shouted, shoving you behind him as he got up in Aethelred's face.

'You're still ruining lives!' Aethelred yelled at you, cowardly taking a step back from Sihtric, 'didn't you even fuck your best friend's guy? What's his name… uh… oh! Ragnar!'

'I didn't!' you yelled.

'Ragnar?' Sihtric frowned and turned around to face you.

'Wait, wait, wait!' Uhtred threw his hands up and turned to you, while Osferth and Finan just stood there gaping. 

'Are you the girl who fucked Ragnar and caused him and Brida to break up?' Uhtred asked.

'I never-'

Uhtred turned to Sihtric, ignoring your reply, 'Sihtric, did you know it was her?'

Sihtric, who looked absolutely devastated all of the sudden, shook his head and swallowed hard.

'N-no,' he said, barely audible over the club's noise.

Everyone stared at you and Sihtric, and you felt your eyes tear up when you saw Sihtric's face. Everyone knew of the story about Ragnar and Brida, but no one knew the truth, or who the girl was who supposedly caused their break up; you.

'I swear I didn't do that!' you yelled with a broken voice.

Sihtric nodded and grew timid, then took a step away from you. Finan and Osferth were quick to wrap their arms around him, knowing Sihtric felt betrayed and played, and he was heartbroken. And actually, they all felt played by you. Why did you never tell them about that rumour? If it wasn't true, then why had you hid your past from them all this time? Sihtric felt used and humiliated, and he needed to get away from you. He grabbed his bottle of alcohol, pushed his friends off him and stormed out of the club. And you followed.

'Sihtric!' you yelled, running to keep up with him as he paced through the nearly empty streets, 'Sihtric, wait!'

He didn't react, instead, he gulped down the bottle before he smashed it to pieces on the street.

'Babe, wait! Where are you going?!' you yelled and you jumped over the shattered glass.

'Home!' Sihtric snarled as he turned to face you, 'away from you!'

'Wha- I…'

'Did you have fun?!' he yelled, 'was it worth it?! Was I a good fuck to you?! When were you planning on dumping me? Tonight? Tomorrow? Or would you wait a few more weeks, keeping me around longer, so I'd hurt even more!'

'Sihtric, stop!' you cried and grabbed his arm when he tried to turn away again, 'it's not like that! I swear it's not like that!'

'Did you ever even love me!?' Sihtric shouted as he grabbed your shoulders, 'just, please,' he said with a sob, and broke down in tears, 'did you ever fucking love me?'

You started to cry even harder, not able to bring out a word, as you really thought Sihtric knew your feelings for him were real. How could he think that everything had been a lie? It made you feel sick inside, and you were just speechless.

'Thought so,' Sihtric sniffled and let go of you, 'I… I knew you were too good to be true.'

He turned away from you again and walked off, into the night. Uhtred, Finan and Osferth ran past you, after the Dane, and Osferth was the only one who stopped for a moment.

'How could you do this to him?' he asked you.

And then Osferth left you too, alone, in the middle of the street, with a broken heart. And when you turned around, you saw Aethelred, enjoying his drink with a satisfied look on his face.

For days on end you tried to contact Sihtric, but he didn't reply to any of your messages. He hadn't blocked you, which made it even worse, because you could see he had been reading your messages, he just didn't write back.

In your despair, you wrote to your mutual friends as well, asking if Sihtric was okay. But no one seemed keen to interact with you, apart from one text you got from Finan, in which he told you what a bitch you were. And that's also how you found out what Aethelred had told Sihtric that night. You desperately kept trying to contact Sihtric, needing to know if he was okay, but to no avail.

Until several days later Osferth suddenly replied.

Osferth: no

Osferth: he's not okay

Osferth: what were you thinking?

You: Osferth!

You: thank you for responding… are you with Sihtric right now?

It took a long time before he replied again.

Osferth: yes…

You: please, please tell him I miss him. I swear this is all a misunderstanding! I need Sihtric… please, tell him I need to see him

You could barely see through your teary eyes when you hit send. And minutes later Osferth read your message and replied.

Osferth: he doesn't want to see you, okay?

Osferth: I think you should let this go. Let him go, before you drag him down further… he's broken, you've done enough damage already. leave.

And with those words, your world came crumbling down once again.

Weeks passed, and not a word from Sihtric. You had stopped by his apartment building several times in the evening, knowing he was home, but he refused to answer the intercom, no matter how many times you rang. You knew you were more or less stalking him right now, but he was the most amazing guy you had ever met. You loved Sihtric, wholeheartedly, and you knew he was the only man for you. You couldn't let him slip away like that. Not because of something you didn't even do.

And so, days later, you were once again outside his apartment building, ringing his doorbell downstairs. And as expected, he again ignored you, so you decided to text him.

You: Sihtric, please, just hear me out…

You: what that guy told you in the club that night wasn't completely true. Yes, I used to be a bitch. I messed with guys. And I know it doesn't make it any better, but I only messed with the guys who messed with girls… I treated those guys the same way they treated women, and they didn't like it. I know it was wrong and foolish, but I stopped that almost two years before I met you… 

You: it's true that Brida was my best friend, but I swear I never, NEVER slept with Ragnar. And I truly don't know who he slept with, or if he even did. The rumour was spread by Aethelwold, who I guess you know too by now, and I don't know why he started it. Maybe because he just likes to stir shit up…

You: but I swear, love, I never slept with Ragnar. Never. That friendship ending really hurt me, and I completely changed my life after that. You're the first guy I was intimate with after that all happened, almost two years later. And apart from that one date with Uhtred, you're the only guy I've been seeing ever since, and when we first met… I just knew we were meant to be. 

You: darling, I love you. God, how I love you. You are everything to me, Sihtric. And I miss you so much, it's fucking killing me. Please, believe me. This is the whole truth. 

You: I never planned on messing with you, that's not who I am anymore. I promise my intentions with you were always pure and of good nature. Please, give me another chance. 

You: please know that what we had was real, from my side at least. And I'm sorry you found out about my past like that. I never told you because we both agreed our pasts shouldn't matter… I would never hide anything from you, and if you had asked me, I would have told you the truth. 

You: I miss you. I need you. I love you. I won't give up on you. I won't leave you alone until you tell me straight to my face that we're over… I can't live without you, please.

You were a sobbing mess by the end of your typing, and your heart skipped several beats when you saw Sihtric was online and was reading your messages. 

And after a few long minutes, you suddenly heard the main entrance door unlock.

'Sihtric,' you said with a desperate sob as he opened the door, and you fell in his arms.

Against his will, Sihtric tried to make himself believe, he held you tightly in his arms as you cried while mumbling dozens of apologies. And when he stepped back, you saw he was just as broken as you were. Without speaking, he motioned you to take a seat, and he sat down across from you. And then you waited for him to start the conversation. But as he couldn't even look at you without tearing up, you figured you had to make the first move.

'H-how have you been?' you asked, fighting your tears.

Sihtric hummed softly and shrugged weakly. He clenched his jaw, biting down his emotions, and then he finally spoke.

'Drunk… most of the time,' he said with a hoarse voice, 'you?'

'Crying,' you answered, 'and… more or less stalking you.'

'Who… who was that guy at the club that night?' Sihtric asked.

'His name is Aethelred. I met him years ago,' you said, 'he was married, but he hated his wife. He… hit her. And one night he showed interest in me, and so I led him on. That's what I did back then. I played the players. I wanted them to see how it feels to be led on. To be manipulated and crushed,' you confessed, 'and I know that doesn't justify my behaviour. I'm only trying to explain why I did it.'

Sihtric nodded slowly, looking down at his feet.

'Why did he come up to me?'

'I really don't know,' you said, 'I guess…I really hurt him. I made him look like a fool, I hurt his ego. I think he saw us together and simply wanted to get back at me.'

Sihtric let your answers sink in for a moment before he spoke again.

'And what about Ragnar?'

'I never slept with him,' you said firmly, 'I was a bitch, but I had my boundaries too.'

'Where does the rumour come from?' Sihtric asked and finally looked at you, deep into your eyes.

'I…,' you sighed, 'I think Aethelwold made it up because I turned him down one night. I think he just wanted to make me look bad, but had no idea he caused a whole series of fucked up shit to happen as a result. I've never even spoken to or seen him again since that time I rejected him.'

'Did you fuck him?' Sihtric asked, staring at you.

'Never,' you grimaced, 'he's a weasel, but he never treated a woman like a piece of shit. I had no reason to mess with him, and… I had standards, I guess. He's not my type.'

'What is your type?' Sihtric shrugged, 'douchebags?' 

'No,' you scoffed, then teared up again, 'you are, Sihtric. You are my type. You are everything I ever fucking dreamed of,' you started crying, 'you're the first guy I truly fell in love with, for the right reasons.'

'Why?' Sihtric asked, 'why me?'

'Because you treated me with respect from the very first moment we met. You told me straight up you weren't into one night stands, you didn't want to mess around, you wanted something serious. As did I. And I still do,' you sniffled, 'all I wanted when I left that pathetic life behind me, was a good guy. A good man. And you are exactly that. You make me feel loved, you make me complete. And I know we went quite fast in our relationship, but only because it felt right to me. I never did it to mess with you. Sihtric,' you wiped your tears, 'I love you so much. You are everything. Everything.'

You stared at Sihtric, who slowly nodded again and raked his fingers through his curls. Then he sniffed and, when he looked back up at you, you saw his face had changed. He seemed calmer suddenly, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

'So… I'm just a good guy? That's it?'

'Well, no, I mean… yeah… but,' you stammered, confused, 'you're really sweet too. And funny. You're a good listener, you're smart, protective. And… handsome,' you smiled softly. 

Sihtric got up from his chair and moved to sit next to you, on the sofa, where he looked down at his feet for a while before he turned to look into your eyes again.

'Just handsome?' he asked with a cocky half smile.

'Sihtric… I… what-'

'Handsome,' he looked offended, 'that's it? You don't find me wildly arousing?' he showed you a hint of his cheeky grin.

You blinked rapidly, staring at the Dane as if he spoke a language you had never heard before. Then Sihtric leaned in and took your chin gently between his fingers.

'You always told me I was the sexiest man you had ever seen,' he smiled, 'and now you tell me I'm just handsome. How am I supposed to believe my girlfriend is telling the truth right now, if she's not randomly praising my looks, like she used to?'

'Sihtric,' you suddenly laughed, 'you're such an idio-'

You were cut off as Sihtric pressed his lips onto yours, capturing you in a sweet but firm kiss. And when he pulled away, he cupped your cheeks.

'I'm sorry I doubted you,' Sihtric whispered against your lips, 'my insecurities got the best of me, and I'm sorry, love. I should have given you the chance to explain that night, but I was too afraid I wouldn't like the truth. So I figured I'd walk away before you could walk away from me. It's no excuse, but I was just terrified of losing you. I handled it poorly, and I'm really sorry.'

'I'm sorry too,' you whispered and pecked his lips, 'you did somewhat give me a chance to say something that night, when you asked if I ever loved you. But I… I froze. I was stunned at the thought you felt I faked my feelings for you, when we nearly lived together. I couldn't bring out a single word…' you choked up again.

'I know,' Sihtric hushed you with another soft kiss, 'I know, love. And it wasn't fair of me to expect a proper answer then, when everything was overwhelming for the both of us. I think… we both fucked up there.'

'We did,' you mumbled, 'we both could have handled it better, but… it happened.'

'It happened,' Sihtric said, 'and it's in the past now. And you know how I feel about the past.'

'That… i-it doesn't matter anymore?' you asked, hesitantly.

'It doesn't matter anymore,' Sihtric whispered, then smiled and kissed your lips again, 'all that matters is that I love you. And that I never stopped loving you. And that I will never stop loving you either.'

'I never stopped loving you either,' you sniffled, 'I've missed you so much-'

'I've missed you too,' he breathed, kissing your lips in between his words, 'I never want us to be apart again.'

'Neither do I,' you said, and exhaled sharply with relief when he kissed your forehead, the way he always did when you needed comfort.

Then Sihtric sat back and held your hands, and he asked, 'So when will you move in, love?'

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[cosmolog]

Miguel's Secret (P.2)

Part One. Part Three

[Two Years Ago]

"Okay, Y/n, can you hand me a screwdriver? There's one over there" Miguel waved his hand to the table at the end of the room, not taking his eyes off the suit he was creating.

I quickly walked over to the table and grabbed the screwdriver, then rushed back and gave him the tool. The next sound he made was a low chuckle.

"Take your time, I'm in no rush." He said, sending me a grin over his shoulder before using the screwdriver on the suit.

"Oh, okay. Sorry." I chuckled, feeling warm in the face. "Um, would you like some tea or something-"

"No, no, I'm good for now." Miguel sighed as he finished screwing the new gadget on. He stood up straight. "I don't have much for you to do today, if I'm being honest."

I smiled and stepped forward to admire the suit, which was nearly finished. "Muy chido" ('Very cool') I smiled.

Miguel smiled. "Gracias, N/n." ('Thanks, Nickname') He threw his arm around my shoulders and side-hugged me. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off?" He said.

I scoffed a laugh. "Robots don't need rest, Miggy." I reminded him.

"I know but...just ease my conscience for me. I don't like anyone working over-time for me." He reasoned as he started tidying up his workshop.

I stood there watching him for a moment. "What am I supposed to do?" I asked.

"Google it." Miguel joked, laughing at his own joke. "You can go for a stroll or visit the aquarium. I know you loved that place when we went last month. Why don't you go see if they have anything new in." The thought did sound tempting. I loved the various fish and aquatic creatures that the cities largest aquarium held. So many colours, shapes, patterns. But, no...Not without...

"Without you?" I was puzzled. Miguel was always with me whenever we went anywhere outside the Spider Society, so this request was quite unusual.

"Yeah, why not?" Miguel replied.

"But...I...I could be robbed." I excused. "Or kidnapped, or-"

"Y/n, don't worry. That won't happen. You have multiple tasers built into your hands, all you gotta do if point your finger." He smiled as he stopped what he was doing and approached me, placing his hands on my shoulders feeling how tense they had gotten. His tone grew soft and warm as he reassured me "I wouldn't let you go out on your own if I didn't give you something to protect yourself with. Now,¡vamos! Go on!" (Let's go) He said as he practically pushed me out the door.

[Present Day]

"I'm only going to take a peek-" I said as I tried to get past the two teenagers, who were blocking the way out of the storage room.

"No, you can't. If Miguel sees you, I don't know what he's gonna do!" Gwen said, hurriedly as she stood in front of me.

"Why are you saying that like it's a bad thing? What the hell would he do?" Miles asked.

"I-I don't know! We don't know their history, we don't know if Miguel is mad at her for falling in love with him or what-"

"I am not in love with him!" I protested.

"Yes, you are!" Gwen and Miles said in sync.

My eyebrows raised in shock at them as I looked between the two. I didn't speak as the two teens spoke to each other quietly. Gwen pulled Miles away from me so I wouldn't hear their conversation.

Now was my chance. My eyes locked on the door to the storage room. By the time Gwen and Miles turned to check on me, they were sent into a panic upon seeing nobody around.

I laughed as I ran, feeling joy flow through me. I wanted to run faster and faster. But as I turned the tenth corner, I slowly halted my rush now met with a dead end. Well, not really, there was a door with a key pad. I didn't know if the passwords in the Society had changed or not since I was last online but I could give it a go.

Enter Password;__________

Here goes nothing...

Enter Password; G-A-B-R-I-E-L-L-A

PASSWORD CORRECT

I sighed in relief before pushing the door open.

My eyes fell on a large aquarium in a wide open room filled with so many fish. I remember seeing them in the aquarium when I went with Miguel the one day that we did go. I remember pointing out the colourful ones, the ones that stood out to me. I remember taking a picture of Miguel as he imitated one of the fish that had a permanent frown. I chuckled at the memory.

Holograms of whales floated around the room, as if swimming in an invisible ocean. A smile broke out on my face as the humpback past over-head, followed closely by her calf.

The reflections of the water were all over my body, as if I was the water too. I walked closer to the aquarium. Placing my hand on the glass, I leant as close as I could get.

Though the room was dark, the aquarium lights created an amazing and magical glow on the fish. So immersed in the enchanting sight, I hadn't noticed that someone had entered the room until..

"I shouldn't have let you go..." A gravelly voice suddenly spoke.

Taglist

@thesilenthill

@animesnowstorm

@razertail18

@autismsupermusicalassassin

@e1493e

[dizzyduck44]

Red Bull’s True Colours?

I’m not sure how I feel about this. To read Red Bull’s defence of why Checo was made to drive back to the pits, it seems that a race win can be bought for 25,000 euros and a three place grid penalty.

Red Bull do everything in their power to give people a stick to hit Max with don’t they? Do they just not care about Checo’s career or safety? Or the safety of anyone one else on track?

With a fan base that wants to reduce Lando’s first win down to a lucky safety car. And yes every team does it to some extent. McLaren telling Oscar to behave in Miami as not to cause a safety car. Ferrari’s controlling of McLaren in Monaco. Aston and Haas specialising in having one car be a road block at the front so your team mate can catch up and pass people. Red Bull are not alone here but to be so blatantly chill about it when their actions could have ended another driver’s race. I think it’s time Red Bull fans avoid the topic of safety cars period!!!! (Yes I know Team LH44, it had to be said).

I know Will Buxton has not minced his words about this and honestly it hard to miss the point he was making. Breaking the rules to secure a win is cheating. But what is the other side of this? Take the win from Max when he (and maybe only him at Red Bull) did nothing wrong?

Should both McLaren and Mercedes drivers feel cheated out a potential win? Hell yes.

But as we saw yesterday with the Max fans coming for Lando, it won’t be the people who made this dangerous decision who will get slaughtered. Fans will go for Max and Checo!

I agree the penalty is too lenient. What stops another team thinking well if that all the punishment is . . . . .

So make the team suffer. Lose constructors points for that race. Exclusion from the next sprint race. A 150,000 Euro fine to come out of their cost cap. Make it so a team would have to be desperate to do something so stupid again. Red Bull are many things, I’ve never thought they were desperate.

At this point I feel for their drivers. Checo had a decent reputation before going to Red Bull. They are trying everything to screw that over. And poor Max, still gets labelled a “dirty driver”. No Max was an immature driver who become an over ambitious driver who settled into the World Champion we all knew he would become (whether you liked him or not). Sadly he drives for a team with the morals and ethics of pond weed who even when he drives brilliantly (as he did yesterday) the world and its dog can turn round and question did he deserve it.

Normally I’m the one promoting calm and don’t go after people, but maybe this time people do need to let Red Bull and the FiA and F1 know how they feel about this. Because how do we stop it happening again.

[mara-xx217]

Good morning/afternoon/night! My internet is really bad at the moment so im not sure when this ask is gonna get through lol :,)

If I remember it correctly, your asks are open! So I decided to try my luck on sending one! (I've only downloaded Tumblr recently so im sorry if this goes badly :,) )

May I ask for a scenario or something like that with Pocketcat obsessing over a poor and desperate soul(aka reader lol) who is just trying to make their way through the Fear and Hunger dungeons/The festival of Termina (It's probably better if you choose lol)? Reader is just trying to go through another day without being attacked in their sleep and maybe smoking some Opium while that goddamn cat is just starting from a corner.

((Im not sure how asks work! Sorry if I made a mistake!!))

Omg yes this is perfectly fine! Everybody loves Pocketcat (me included) so I'm more than happy to answer this lol. Let's set this during the Festival, shall we? :)

You're doing great!

Warnings: Stalking, General Creep Behavior, Pocketcat Deserves His Own Warning, Drug Use

The atmosphere of Prehevil was a buzz with an invisible, cold heat. Your skin had started to tingle the moment you woke up from that terrible dream you had on the train and a throbbing headache that started as a minor annoyance has now turned into a full blown migraine that has you feeling like you've been brained by a lead pipe, a very real possibility given all the pissed off locals that have been attacking you unprompted and out of the blue as you've wandered the mostly deserted streets.

The last few blocks, you've begun to feel as though you were being watched... Every other step you take, you swear that you hear the echo of a footfall that is just barely out of sync of your own. You pause mid step and listen carefully.

...click...

Shit. You don't look over your shoulder, fearing what you might find following you. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and suddenly pick up your pace, not quite running but not walking casually either. Your fucking head is killing you... You wanted nothing more than to take a hit from your pipe... but you needed to find somewhere relatively safe first. Continuing on, you round several more street corners. You don't stop until you no longer hear any footsteps mirroring your own. Slowing down, you strain your ears once again.

....

Silence. You shuffle to a stop. Your headache is nearly blinding and you sit on a pair of steps that lead into one of the many buildings in Prehevil. Fumbling with your bag, you fish out your smoking pipe, your eyes closed as they were throbbing and painfully dry. You crack an eye open and find a nearly empty matchbook, striking it alight and lighting the pipe that was still partially filled with opium. Extreme, but its all you have.

And your head-

It was sweet relief. The opium was strong and fast acting. Your headache numbed, as did your paranoia. Your heartbeat slowed and you felt yourself fall at ease. You kept your eyes closed, enjoying the brief moment of quiet. Has it been only a few hours of this? It almost felt like a lifetime... Your eyes open, blinking as they readjust to the light. And you find yourself startled as there was someone standing down the street opposite of where you sat.

The colour purple was a strange sight in this blood-soaked town... Not a drop of gore was on him, yet the bag at his feet was blood-smeared and breathing, you could tell even from where you sat. He was tall and well-dressed, strange all around and strangely making a point to avoid eye-contact with you. As you stared at him, suddenly sobering from the opium, he twitched his head and glanced in your direction. What the hell was he wearing...?

"Ah-! Oh, dear me! I didn't see you there at all!" His accent was strange and he seemed exasperated. Though he was wearing a mask, something that appeared to be cumbersome and inflexible, it had a lot of character and seemed to reflect it well through his eyes.

"My, my, how rude of me! I do apologize, this Festival has us all running about like mad, does it not?" You uneasily looked side to side.

Was... he talking to you?

"What... 'Festival'...?" He continued on.

"Say... perhaps I am mistaken but... do I know you? Maybe you get that a lot, you do have one of those faces, but I swear that you look..." The masked man turned to face you. He had one hand in his pocket, something that make you gravely nervous.

"...familiar?" You don't know why you answered him. Perhaps it was the awkwardness of this situation getting to you.

"Yes! Familiar. I feel as though I have met you once before, in lands and times different though under such similar circumstances..." He grew wistful, seeming to reflect on an old and touching memory. You frowned. There was something nagging at the back of your head....

"Pray tell, how has this Festival been treating you? Worse for wear? Perhaps you have had your fill and wish to turn in for the day?" You narrowed your eyes.

"I... What?" He continued.

"No matter, there is time left for you, though not much at all, I'm afraid. There is never enough time, is there? Or it certainly doesn't feel that way... Especially where the ones we love are concerned..." He turned his head so you couldn't see his masked face. The man brought his hand to his mouth and seemed to suddenly grow sheepish. The hand in his pocket began to twitch and you felt your stomach roll in apprehension.

"Do you have that special someone in your life? I did... once upon a time... Though it has been so many ages since I last saw them..." He turned to face you and he seemed larger and closer than he truly was. The masked man grew in height and seemed to lean in close to you, until you had your back flat against the stairs and you were cowering before him from across the street.

"Though... looking upon you has brought a wave of nostalgia over me! Truly, I must thank you for this, for I had missed them terribly..." There was a genuineness to his voice that was almost moving... for a split second, you felt your guard lower.

"I see..." Your shoulders dropped a little. A wave of emotion washed over you.

Relief

Gratitude

But in the warmness there was also,

Anticipation

Fear

Hatred

Deja vu seized your heart and froze you in place. Your temples began to throb as the colour drained from your face. The stranger had become familiar and known to you, though you didn't understand how or why. He seemed pleased with the shift in your demeanor.

"That's quite enough I think..." You furrowed your brows, confused.

"What-?"

"Yes, quite so!" You can tell that he was smiling under the mask.

"I don't understand-" He nodded to himself.

"That's quite alright, old sport! Give it some time, I think it will all become apparent, sooner than later." The man straightened up and you no longer felt crowded.

"W-What will? What- Who even are you-?!" Your question was waved off.

"Enough questions! Don't you think it's about time now?" Anxiety pulsed under your skin.

"Time? Time f-for what?"

"Time to wake up, of course! You've nearly overslept!" You're stunned. Confused and a little annoyed, you open your mouth to rebuke him, but he's suddenly in front of you and has a gloved hand clamped around your mouth. You can't move, you can't blink, you can't even scream in terror as a wave of nostalgia crashes over you.

"Hush, now... I've stolen you away from my Master for long enough... It's time for us to part ways for now, but we will meet again. It will be just like the good old days, just you wait!" You didn't know who this fucking freak was and you didn't care. You just wanted him to get the hell away from you already!

"Go on, then! Away with you!" His tone was cheery but he picked you off the stone stairs with his one hand with ease, until your legs were dangling limply in the air.

You were thrown down but instead of busting your head on the edge of sharp stairs you startled in a seated position. You hit your elbow against the cool train window and your head bounced off of it as you struggled to regain your senses.

It was... what?

It wasn't real... It was all just one big, terrible dream... You sighed in relief. In the moments that it took your heart to slow, you realized something.

The train wasn't moving and it was devoid of all passengers.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather

[drconstellation]

All The Colours of the GO Rainbow

Updated 11 Nov 2023

Edit note: I've done quite a big update on Red, Green and Blue, so if you read this before 11 Nov 2023 it might be worth reading it again.

I'm writing this meta about colours in the Good Omens AU in preparation for some future metas I'm planning, where colour will be important. And yes, I'm going to use "colour" as the spelling, as I'm an Australian and I use the UK English as my usual go-to version of English (that is what I was taught at school,) even though I am finding myself flicking between US and UK English here on Tumblr, leaving out u's here and there and putting in z's where I would normally put s's.

I also think its worth having another discussion about it as there are some colours I've have seen discussed here and there, but not at length, and some not at all that I think are important, and I just want to bring them all to one place.

I'm also going to be referring to @cobragardens excellent meta The Colors of Crowley quite a bit in this meta at various points, so you might want to pause and go read that first, then come back.

BLACK

Most people's initial reaction would be to class black as a colour of Hell. Crowley wears a lot of black, and usually a hidden accent of red (aaand something else. I'll discuss that at the end.) But the other demons are actually quite colourful when you get them into the light. They may tend towards the darker shades but there is quite a range of colours seen. Dagon, for example, is a very dark blue, as their avatar is a marine fish. Normally blue is associated with Heaven in GO. But this fits better if we think of black as being the colour of shadow, where the light does not reach, and the place of hidden things, of mystery

And it's worth noting that Aziraphale wears some black when he is trying to perform a magic show. He also wears white and gold at the same time but normally he does not wear these colours, unless he is performing human magic (see S1E1, Warlock's 11th birthday party, and the 1941 minisode S2E4) This should be striking enough for you to sit up and take note. You could say when Aziraphale dons black it is an expression of his act of "mysteriosity."

RED

Again, red is not necessarily a demonic colour, although we tend to associate it with demons, as Lord Beelzebub and Lord Dagon both wear red sashes as a mark of their rank in Hell. Think of it more as the colour of passion and romance in GO. Ooh, got you there! Makes you wonder what Shax is really up to (I know some of you have.) Perhaps they are just passionate about doing their job, or climbing their way to the top of the demonic ranking ladder?

Edit: After writing up a couple of other metas and some more reading maybe a better description is "devotional passion." Shax is devoted to climbing the power ladder in Hell (her red is usually a darker shade of red than Crowley's,) and the Red Team in the paintball fight at Tadfield Manor in S1E2 is devoted to following the rules of Management. Crowley is devoted to Aziraphale, of course.

In Christianity red has an association with the left-hand side, or the sinister side. In GO we tend to call this the "demon side" as there is a lot of shot blocking for shoulder-angels and shoulder-demons. Crowley is typically on Aziraphale's LHS because of this, so when he isn't, we take note. Actually you should take note of all the shot-blocking in GO because who is on the shoulder-right and who is on the shoulder-left of shot tells you so much about their moral stance in that scene! Anyway, in religious iconography it will often be Michael robed in red, with a sword, on the left of Jesus, representing the eccentric, the strange, the excessive, fire - and goats. (Hey, goats are a whole other meta, we are here to talk colour!)

Special mention to the 1941 minisode in S2E4 that is just soaked in red, everywhere you turn: in the sparks flying off the burning buildings as the sparks of love begin to fly, the inside of the book shop where Crowley encourages Aziraphale to think like a professional, the magic shop where danger and chaos lurks in every corner but magic is Aziraphale's personal passion, and the Windmill Theater where he finally gets to perform his magic passion on the stage. Several ops see this as a special memory of Aziraphale's so he colours it with the red of romance. We've got big hopes of seeing a third part to 1941 in S3. Some of this red is also used as a metaphor for flames and fire (there always seems to be something burning after a gun is fired) - we are fanning the flames of passion again!

GOLD

Gold is one the colours of Heaven. Nearly all the angels have some form of gold on them at some point. A gold ring, gold embroidery on their clothes, a golden brooch, gold on their face, Aziraphale's gold watch fob (he has a ring, too). We also see multiple golden lions in various places, which appear to have a connection to Heaven and Jesus. (I'm still planning to write a meta on the lions in the future, but I've got to find them all first! They keep turning up in surprising places...) The lions have a royal connection, one of two royal mentions in this meta, in that they represent the connection Jesus has to the Royal house of Judah, and are a symbol of his return in the Second Coming.

YELLOW

Yellow in GO is probably the hardest colour to interpret. We see a lot of it, because Aziraphale is so fond of it, being the colour of Crowley's eyes. The walls of the book shop are painted yellow, he gives Jimbriel a yellow feather duster to use and he turns the Bentley yellow on the trip up to Edinburgh, much to Crowley's disgust. (To be fair, Crowley's Mayfair flat in S1 was colour-coded to Aziraphale's eyes in return, in greys and subtle blues, but that's another discussion.)

But I think the important thing to emphasis here is that yellow is NOT the same as gold, and we shouldn't blend the two colours together.

While some point out that yellow can be seen as an imperial or royal colour, as it is the colour of the Sun, when you put this colour in context in the GO AU, it more clearly points to being the colour of fear, as Cobragarden's explains in The Colours of Crowley. I would expand on their words, and say that is why Crowley doesn't wear his sunglasses in front of Jimbriel when looking after him in the book shop - its a measure of how afraid he is that the the real Gabriel might reappear at any moment. And back in S1 when Crowley is trying to work out how to escape the burning Odegra sigil he inadvertently created Hastur appears in the front seat of the Bentley in pursuit of him and reaches out to remove his sunglasses. The shock on Crowley's face in the moment is palpable, because he realises he's in the shit unless he thinks quickly - which he bravely does!

GREEN

Green is the colour of chaos.

Originally I wrote that Green was Hell, but on after writing this and going on to write further metas (I think I’ve mentioned this elsewhere, and this is an evolving meta) and a brief discussion in the Notes at the bottom with noneorother, I decided I would re-write this for a better fit.

It still fits Hell, however, as Hell is chaos compared to Heaven. It’s overcrowded, its clogged with bundled paperwork that hasn’t been filed, there is old furniture everywhere. It’s still the overgrown suffocating swamp of decay, with the leaking pipes and the light struggling to find its way down through the mess. It’s still Furfur, with plans to unexpectedly disrupt our hero’s magic act. It’s still the colour of the fog outside the bookshop during the Eldritch Ball, signalling that things are not going to plan. Demons love chaos, its their purpose. It’s the opposite to Heaven, which is rigid and structured.

A recent post from @noneorother highlights that the intense green used for Hell in S2 is influenced by the the Powell & Pressburger movie The Tales of Hoffmann. They say:

Whenever something evil happens in "The automaton ball" sequence, the light changes to this sickly green. Colour is THE important symbolism in Hoffmann, so now we know green is evil.

But they wanted to add that evil is not necessarily Hell. And we would have to agree. Because Aziraphale also has a lot of green associated with him, and he has nothing to do with Hell - he's more an agent of chaos, if anything. He's unpredictable. Let us address this in it's own section below.

Veridian/Teal/Aquamarine

This is a special section to discuss the blue-green hues that Aziraphale wears. Heaven mixed with Hell. Lawful mixed with Chaos. He is one unique angel. The first sight of these colours is in 1601, when we find out that the Arrangement first proposed by Crowley in 537 is now in full swing, where he has some teal strips in his Elizabethan costume.

While I'm told its traditional to have a darker colour on the back panel of waistcoats, it's notable that the back of Aziraphale's waistcoat is a distinctly dark viridian green. Why not dark blue? Or a shade of brown to go with the other shades of brown and beige the angels tend to wear? But what's the meta-writer's motto in GO? There are no accidents...

He also wears a pale aquamarine shirt in the present day. (wearecrowley has posted a nice set of GIFs that highlight it here) No white for him since 1941 at least, although his 1821 shirt also looks green to me, but its hard to tell in the dim candlelight of night time Edinburgh (unless he is performing magic, then he is in white, gold, and mysterious black or being discorporated, then he is colourless white - back to his "native" state, like Muriel in her Earthly Inspector uniform.) The cape he wears in the 1941 minisode is also a fascinating colour. I am having trouble pinning down exactly what it would be called - Teal? A darker aquamarine? Perhaps turquoise. It's certainly part of his colour palette, and still indicating a lawful-chaos mix. A "dark horse" indeed!

[Edit: So i saw someone describe Heaven and Hell as Lawfulness and Chaos, and I thought that was a perfect fit for Aziraphale here with his blue-greens. Remember Crowley described him as "unpredictable" to Nina? Yeah...]

[Edit 2: I've made some changes above because I re-wrote the section on Green. This is an evolving meta!]

BLUE

Blue is a signal of Heaven, the colour of the sky, and a colour traditionally associated with the archangels Gabriel and Michael. We see it in a number of places, in both S1 and S2, where it is used with deliberate care.

Usually a primary shade of blue, this represents the rigid lawfulness and rules of Heaven, as compared to the chaos associated with Hell. In Christian iconography blue is what Gabriel wears as the right-hand-side shoulder angel to Jesus. It represents the Law, mercy, protection, water, sheep(!) and foundation. The "good" shoulder angel is always on the right shoulder in shot-blocking in the show.

Below are some examples of where we see it:

The blue paint on the back of Aziraphale's coat when he gets hit by a paintball at Tadfield Manor in S1E2.

The colour of Newt's car, Dick Turpin (which actually presents an interesting juxtaposition, as Newt is a Crowley parallel.)

The colour of the external walls of the coffee shop in S2, and some of the inside, which is also the same as the take-away cups, such as the one the Metatron offers to Aziraphale.

The colour of the gecko Jemima asks to be turned into in the Job minisode.

The colour of the suit Jimbriel wears at the eldritch ball, and the glorious ostrich feather jacket he dons when he exits the book shop to give himself up to the demons.

PURPLE

Purple has long been the colour of royalty, since ancient days. This was for good reason - there was only one natural source of the rich purple dye. That came from a small marine snail that was found on the coast of modern day Lebanon, near Tyre, and they held the monopoly on this trade for centuries. Only kings and emperor's could afford to have cloth dyed in this colour, known as Tyrian purple. It wasn't until the first synthetic purple dye was created in 1856 that the common man could afford to wear it as well.

In Good Omens we see Gabriel, the Prince of Heaven, wearing this colour in his ties, and also showing it in his irises in both S1 and S2. But only when he is Gabriel, not as Jim.

[Edit: So I only just found out that the colour he wears is lilac and is modeled after Elizabeth Taylor's famous eyes. But hey, she was a queen of the screen - movie royalty! And you still need to explain all the other purple below. Also, she was only born around 100 years ago and Gabriel has theoretically been around for...a lot longer, so I'd say Gabriel came first.]

There are a couple of other places we see it used. One is when angel Crowley starts up his nebula. The plume of miracle energy emanating from the book shop after the 25 lazurii miracle is also this colour.

Archangel Saraqael's chair is purple when she is on Earth. And Saraqael and Muriel both have purple in their tartan when in Heaven.

WHITE

White is the colour of the angels. It is the colour of Aziraphale's wings and the colour of his robes during ancient times from the Beginning up to Rome. Once the Arrangement starts, the white starts to be replaced with other colours, and the shades of teal and other blue-greens start to appear.

By the present day he has virtually lost all trace of white, except for his hair. He then only appears in all white when discorporated.

Muriel turns up in a conspicuously bright white police uniform on Earth, and the other angels all have some form of white on them.

Crowley sometimes has small accents of white as well. They can be easily missed, such as the white shirt cuff protruding from his sleek black Elizabethan costume in 1601. Remember they are discussing the Arrangement here - so they are both showing signs of taking on each other's colours at this point. On the other hand, I know quite a few people have commented on the white in his 1941 garb, on his tie, and his pocket handkerchief (and remember, he wears a grey shirt, not black, because he doesn't want to be mistaken for a black-shirted fascist during the war years.)

SILVER/GRAY

There are two colours I keep seeing that I'm going to group together as one, and that is silver and gray.

The senior archangels are notably dressed in what I've seen described as dove-gray, but an article on the costumes calls it pearl-gray, and it was meant to look a bit shimmery. I sometimes refer to this group of angels as the Archangels with the capital A, or the seraphim, the closest angels to God. This includes Gabriel, our current Prince of Heaven, Michael, Uriel. And I'm going to include Crowley in his trademark Tactical Turtleneck master spy disguise when he infiltrated Heaven with Muriel in S2E6. Hey, he could have worn white!

So where does this colour come from?

I've spent a bit of time banging on in the past about "traditional colours" of the archangels, in particular Gabriel and Michael's being blue, and the missing Raphael's being green. Part of the problem is, though, if you go looking online for who's colour is whose, you get a big variation in answers. Michael nearly always comes out with being associated with blue, and Raphael with green, so no problem there, but all the other traditionally named seraphim seem to get other colours put against them. For Gabriel, though, a commonly associated colour does appear to be white or silver.

Now my guess would be that sparkly silver would be too naff a look for the angels. I mean, look at what Crowley manifests as a blending-in "bees" disguise, a slightly shiny grayish suit, which kind of mocks the other Archangels (and you're overdoing the gold hints there a bit, Crowley) but it is curiously the same style as Saraqael's garb, and they did supposedly work together on the Horsehead Nebula. Hmmm. The Archangel's pearl-gray suits look very corporate and business-like, echoing a large soul-crushing business entity.

But this is not the only time Crowley wears this upper echelon colour; he has quite a habit of wearing it, particularly once the Arrangement kicks in.

The problem is, he nearly always wears near-solid black (unless he is trying not to get killed, like in 1793 Paris - Cobragarden's meta on the context why here - or 1941 London - see above,) so it stands out. I find this a far more interesting than the red accents, and should note that we don't always see it on him; its not there in 1967, for example.

One colour that is noticeably missing in the full GO rainbow is orange. We don't get it handed to us on a plate as much as the other colours do. Perhaps one exception is the sign for The Resurrectionist pub in Edinburgh, where Jesus is wearing an orange robe under a blue cloth. [Edit: It must be my screen colour, its been mentioned to me that the under-robe is actually crimson red.]

So now we have run through all the colours, it can be interesting to look at them in combination.

Bonus points for noticing the white mugs for the S2 coffee shop (six-shots of espresso,) to go with the blue take-away cups. The shop is blue-white-gold themed. Truly meant to be a place where Heaven is obtainable on Earth! It also kind of reminds me of the sky - blue sky overhead, white clouds, and a golden Sun shining down (from the brass lamps.) [Edit: There is a paler green inside the coffee shop - its easy to miss, we are too busy watching the characters!]

The book shop also has a combination of colours - predominately red and yellow. Yellow for fear, and red for passion and romance. Ouch, what a combination!

Aziraphales's white, gold and black combination for performing magic also has me intrigued. It's not just the black, but so much golden colour in the form of a golden vest. And we get it both times in both 1941 and 2019. An angel from Heaven trying to hide what he really is.

I've added an extra section below as part of a reblog on the angel off-whites and shades of brown that also appear, as I realised I missed them, and do a character analysis of the Metatron, so make sure you read that as well.

If you are interested in my analysis on the tartan in GO I've one here at: What the Tartan Tells Us

For further meta reading on colour in GO try the following:

If you haven't read it yet, do go and read Cobragardens The Colours of Crowley, Red and Yellow can hurt a fellow: Colour Symbolism in 1941 Part 1 and Part 2 as it makes the colours more character specific, whereas I've tried to give the colours a more over-arching theme here.

And for the importance of the yellow colour Vavavoom! which is used on the book shop walls, (and matches Crowley's eyes) see Vidavalors post on The Vavoom: Or, when the show's hinting Crowley & Aziraphale first kissed

[sunlightsilence]

MY THOUGHTS ON SIDE ORDER

If you see this, you don't have #side order or #side order spoilers blocked. .

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So. Side order's gameplay is fantastic to me, I've completed it with all 12 palettes now. I love splatoon and I love roguelikes so this was sort of a match made in heaven for me.

Creating the OP builds, the final boss, the general colours and music and vibe of the game is amazing! Everything to do with Pearl and Marina are *amazing* and they're so hella gay it's adorable :D And I love that they're not even hiding the queer representation now. Marina having a sprawled out Pearl as her desktop background is so cute, even seeing an elevator scene where they gush about eachother, and another one where Marina worries that Acht is hitting on Pearl.

And... cannon They/Them Acht! I remember all the people on Reddit being like "it's just the marketing team mistranslating their pronouns in a tweet!" NOPE, it's in game too!

Hell yeah :D Smollusk is adorable and I love him, and maybe we finally have a splatoon villain tumblr won't turn into a tumblr sexyman since he's a literal infant xD

And Pearl Drone is so hecking cute, I love her so much!! If you spin around in the lobby she spins too, and if you stay still she falls asleep :D

I did my first run with Brella cause it's my fav and it has my beloved inkstorm kit from S2! It took me three tries before I beat the tower for the first time, but then every run afterwards with different weapons I've always cleared it (I was got bounced off the tower for that first death and the second I was caught offguard by how fast the reefslider spam is)! Brella was definitely my favourite run, but I also really enjoyed the roller and brush runs. My roughest run was with the Splatling. I had dreaded doing charger after that, but charger turned into my fastest run!

I could see myself unwinding in this mode hundreds more times. I am saying this all to demonstrate that I really love this DLC, it might be my favourite of all the single player modes so far, either that or S2 hero mode. So my following criticisms are out of love for it because it's close to perfect. So the big one is... "the dlc is too short!" I hear that a lot on both tumblr and reddit and someone inevitably chimes in with "You don't play a lot of roguelikes, do you?" I mean... do YOU? I've done over 100 runs in Wizard of Legend, and thousands of hours on Pokemon Mystery Dungeon and Etrian Mystery Dungeon. Yes it's made to be run multiple times, but when a run is only 20-30 minutes it's still only about 6 hours of content if you do all the palettes. And these could be fixed with the assets they already have! Like imagine an Endless mode where the difficulty (enemy speed and hp values and number of spawns) kept ramping up higher and higher each floor, with the leader board being kept track of on the app. Or a daily tower run to save a random cephalopod from being grayscaled - the daily inkling/octoling's palette giving you a random weapon/sub/special for that day that followed the rules of 8's Octoshot (more hacks = less chip slots). Or like a super hard difficulty mode - imagine a mode where every floor had a danger modifier, and maybe a Parallel Cannon spawns into the stage to try to hunt you down (maybe it's even invincible so you have to run away from it while doing the stage objective?) I know the Octoshot is kind of the "hard mode" (it's still not too bad though since it's basically just like starting from the beginning without hacks), but it's not fun being limited to just the one weapon type. Especially for it for people who find the regular shooters boring. I don't feel like this is an unreasonable request either, Wizard of Legend - a roguelike made by *two* people - for instance has a few options for post game challenge runs (a randomized mode, a mode where the enemies start from the highest difficulty from floor 1, an extra long run that touches on all the bosses, a BOSS RUSH mode, Curses - basically one thing gets massively buffed while a second thing gets massively debuffed). The Mystery Dungeon games tend to have unlockable MASSIVE dungeons that start you off from having nothing. (like imagine a 99 floor floor tower where you started with no hacks, and a basic shooter with no sub/special and you had to earn new weapons/subs/specials/hacks as you go). Could do the Curse style idea with extra special Marina hacks. "Hey 8, I just figured out a hack that turns everyone's Max HP to 1 - both yours and your opponents!" "This hack will make you much faster but the floors will always be dark!" Or those Bonus challenges, imagine if there was an option to do conditional runs with them. Like "Beat the Tower without using your special, unlock a specific splat tag banner" Again, I am only criticizing because I love it. It's just also the easiest and shortest of all the single player campaigns we've gotten I feel, and if they were going to lean into the roguelike genre, I wish they looked into how other roguelikes reuse assets to lengthen the gameplay and provide extra challenges to keep players interested for a long time.

AND I AM STILL MAD YOU CAN'T PLAY AS A SQUID AND THEY REMOVED THE PLAYABLE SQUIDBEATZ (half joking. Not really upset, but I do find it odd now that there's more campaigns you can play as an octoling than an inking on the switch now despite inklings being the mascots...... rotm/oe/so vs just s2hero/rotm. And I don't see why we can't just have minigames back, they remove more minigames each entry and paying to listen to music now is frustrating...) Haha... But yes, overall, I loved it. It's a 9/10 from me. Adding squidbeatz and some post game longevity / challenge modes would have made it a 10/10. I can't wait to play more, I can't wait to visit Inkopolis Square again next splatfest :')

Now, onto random observations!

The lobby has jump ramps on the back corner pillars. I don't know why!

You can turn Color Lock on in the main game and it *does* affect Side Order. It gives you permanently Blue+yellow or Blue+green ink, even in the hub area.

So with this boss, it uses the hairstyle from your S2 hero mode data to get their appearance... But I swear mine is using the feminine voice here and when being splat, despite that hairstyle being locked to masculine inkling voices in Splatoon 2? I do use it with the feminine voice in Splatoon 3. Or maybe the voices are just mixed into one here, I can't quite tell? Well it made enby me happy to see. I do kinda wish we got a challenging superboss fight with 4, these felt a bit weak.. but it seems to imply they aren't specifically 4 but Order made them based on their data... So...where is the real 4?!!! Did she never show up to work? Speaking of that boss....

Around the room are these white pipe like structures...

That will be instantly recognizable to anyone who dabbles in japanese model kits - they're sprue trees, like the kind used in Gunpla.

The robotic boss has robot model kit building pieces in the background :D

I still don't quite get the intro scene where everything goes digital on the train.... So it's implying either A) your character got Grayscaled.... But your character is fine when you go back to town... you don't even see any characters standing around suffering it's effects, they could have had some npcs spacing out or acting weird ala Persona 3... or B) you're getting pulled into the memverse too, but there's no sign of your S3 character *at all*... (though this would have been a good way to let us play as an inkling too nintendo >:l *angry woomy noises*)

Honestly I felt kinda like Acht's inclusion was sort of superfluous at first... mostly their role felt like "Pearl & Marina: *does something gay* Acht: wow these two sure are hella gay right 8? i feel like we're third wheels". I kept waiting for some kind of...reveal? Their memories are pretty much fully restored instantly rather than rolled out gradually like I was expecting...I was thinking maybe they'd, like, link them to Paul, or follow up on the recognizing Pearl somehow or being linked to the engineers that created Order or...SOMETHING, but it never came. Other than maybe dropping a hint about the person who instructed them and Marina when they were in school? Their role was really just "I'll hold the elevator and jump in for a song"... But maybe that's okay, eight and Acht are trauma victims and this was meant to be a place to heal them. Maybe it's okay that we take it slow getting to know them.

Okay that's all that's brainworming away at me for now, I'm sure I'll think of more later. Again, I really love it, definitely a 9/10 for me. I hope yall enjoyed it too :)

[random-vyxx]

Sooo! Nn DIALTOWN HEADCANONS!! (Tw there are brief mentions of suicide-) [ill get to dsaf headvanons in a different post]

(Also there's a LOT.)

Gingi:

• phonegingi and typegingi are separate beings.

• biology is determined on whats funniest in context.

• can change their sex at will,, like a frog,

• sometimes sleeps at the foot of norms bed like some fatass dog /lovingly /inspiredby that one nrom blog

• they have an immense dislike of beans.

• when asked about any sort of beans they get defensive.

• red-green colour blind

• purrs,,

• has adhd ,,, because,, they,, akt like me,, *

• thinks the narrator and it are homoerotic, the narrator just wants to go home.

• has a hang in there cat poster in its tent.,, stole it from Billy's alternary school when smuggling him out to ask for help summoning satan.

• likes liquorice.

• every 1-3 years gingi has to get a rabies shot. WILL NOT go alone. Has to get someone to take her or else he IS biting a veterinarian.

• Gingi has broken a limb before, they tried gnawing it off but got distracted by an un-watched construction site (gravel yummy yummy)

Karen

• were married. /JOKR.. /perchance?!

• is not only protective of romantic companions (me rn: 🤓👆),, just anyone she likes.

• she doesn't stim often (repressing it n whatnot), but when she does its usually something simple like bouncing onto her heels. *

• HATTTEEESSS blueberries. Oh my god unless they're ripe in the right way she physically cannot make herself eat them. Likes the taste but GOD she cant deal with them. *

• sometimes when she has a painting she didn't like the outcome of, she lets gingi gnaw on it. (She uses non-toxic paints when painting near gingi)

• smart, but she can make dumb decisions out of impulse.

• goth phase, but eventually got out of it because she just.. Didn't like it anymore.

• girlboss, i love her! !!

• her boss HATED her!

• sometimes she gets art block and stares at the canvas, contemplating if shes actually an artist.

• found a leaf that looked strangely like Charlie Chaplin, showed it to gingi and gingi devoured it instantly.

Randal.

• Randy finds it very hard to sleep naturally!! He will curl up around the airvent in the ticket booth.

• shares a braincell with Oliver n Karen.

• as pathetic as he is, can be pretty damn assertive at times.

• not sexually, bro would be shook if he held your HAND.

• he daydreams about some disney ass "getting pushed onto the dance floor and #ROCKING IT!!!!! " (If he got pushed onto a dance floor hed cry.)

• HAS drempt (dreampt? ) about invader zim and rainbow dash frim mlp beating the shit out of him. Has cried to Oliver about it, and Oliver asked if he did or did not deserve their beating,, in the dream.

• honestly kinda in love with Oliver.

• has honestly known Karen a BIT longer than hes known Oliver,, probably met her after leaving his dads house at 16.

• anytime he passes by the swan pond while walking back to the funfair, he starts shaking

• religious trauma, but meeting god kinda eased his fears a bit

• maybe it was the whole "god is really just an alcoholic hobo.. Hm... Maybe im nOT going to hell! He just like me fr! ",, still scared of him tho since if his life got that bad god aint in control.

• ASS EYESIGHT!! cant afford repairs.

• Randy will scarf down ANY food given. Hes usually nervous about being given stuff, but food? No questions asked, already consumed

Oliver

• has some crazy ass habits

• OLIVER IS SMART. IM TIRED OF PRETENDING HES NOT. HE CAN ACT ON IMPULSE, YES, HE CAN MAKE BAD DECISIONS, YEAH, HELL HE CAN SAY DUMB/IMMATURE SHJT BHT HE UD SMAR HE ISS SMA

• actually a pretty good welder, just sometimes uses it for... Evil.

• he welded a dick then him and gingi giggled about it for 38 minutes. He hides it around the scareshack sometimes and when mr dickens finds it, he sighs and places it somewhere new to continue this GOD AWFUL game.

• jokes about committing crimes, but wouldn't,, chaotic good type shiz.

• romance is boring ahh self.*

• likes randy,, but subtly, since hes greyromantic

• once listened to "kiss me son of god" by they might be giants so long he felt physical withdrawal when he WASN'T listening to it. Would pay money to listen to it for the first time again. ****

• used to overbind just because hed forget hes wearing a binder. Average conversation would be like "god randy i feel sick as FUCKK... " "maybe get that checked out..? " "like my chest hurts n shit,, iunno if its actually serious but it does hurt" ".. Oliver are you wearing the binder thingy... If thats what its called-? "*

• Oliver speaks in stage directions, instead of right, he says "stage left"

Bigfoot

• it takes a lot to coax Bigfoot into the city, usually more responsive when karen does it.

• no longer allowed near a car. *

• actually knows several languages, just doesn't speak.

• dude its Bigfoot what can i say, he like 'naners.

Norm

• INTRUSIVE thoughts. Bro is tweaking. *

• whenever he gets intrusive thoughts he feels PHYSICALLY SICK. Like one he gets is doing what he was going to do in the bad ending. One bullet for mingus, one for himself. He wouldn't, definitely not. Giving up his happy ending would be stupid and he knows that. He cant control it though. Thats what intrusive thoughts are. He has yet to tell anybody about them. (Yes im starting his hcs with these two)

• bisexual, had the awakening during his isolation.. Fill in the blanks.

• the hat he wears is,, thank god,, not the infamous erotica hat. Though he has yet to get RID of the erotica hat.

• used to play bloody knuckles. I SWEAR ITS FUN*

• bickers with Mingus a lot, but sometimes they're calm (prolly after some hijinks.)

• was a fucking hOMO for Callum, it was not mutual, and he knew that.*

(tHIS IS NOT ME VILLAIN-IZING ANYONE HERE ITA OKAY TO NOT LIKE SOMEONE BACK I JUST NEED TO ADD TJIS DISCLAIMER BECAUSE SOEM PEOPLE FUCKING SUCK)

• God gets him to make omelettes sometimes. Norm is somewhat freaked out by it, but does it nonetheless because its fucking god.

• sometimes sees bad edits of spaceships going into space on Facebook reels... And he HAS gotten nostalgic over it. *

• isn't ready to date anybody, no siree, but he is able to form close bonds. And thats okay!!!

• sleeps with a rifle under his pillow*

• after little to no contact with fellow humans for YEARS, he is DOGSHIT at several social cues. I dont know if its the autism or the isolation anymore.... Vro also doesn't know about several important events!

• ended up giving gingi a turnip so theyd DHUT UP.

• asked my dad for ideas, he just "double cheeseburger". I dont know what this means.

• The ink spots fan at heart 💖

Mayor Mingus

• The mingling has a specific pin to show they're in it, but nobody knows what it means so they just look fruity. Mingus didn't accept the pin idea, but they did it any ways. She REFUSES to acknowledge the fact she put it on a board in her office.

• Has cat like behaviors,, obviously,, but sometimes shit like purring shows and she HATES it.

• post chapter 3, shes less frantic about fixing callum, but wont put him down,, never.

• head overheats easily become cats cant sweat (a lot)

• tries to get people to shut up as soon as possible, but will negotiate if she deems it necessary. *

• strangely knows "McDonald's lore". Doesn't elaborate.

• Mingus and the rest of the mingling are back as a group, gods no longer in it and bunnys there!!

• has a list of citizen's she dislikes immensely!! If this got leaked, she'd be in big trouble. *

• catnip works. Well. Too well.

• tango will find her high off her ass on catnip,,, just staring at a lamp like a fucking moth.

• The mingling isnt ENTIRELY incompetent now that bunnys back, theyre kinda together as a crime force. Shooty and stabby have yet to be given real weapons but they're still there so the REST of the mafia can say "Honey... We can call the MAYOR for this disrespect. "

• Passively aggressively says "Im fine. " if shes pissed off. [Needs al-kee-hol.. Aka milk]*

• walks her paw-paw around the nursing home just to keep him a little fit. Callum does NOT know who thos strange cat lady is but hes okay with that.

• tired mom-core

• AROACSE!!!! ACE!!! ARO!!!*

[The next characters wont have as many headcanons.]

Abel

• his complaining taught everyone his legal name was "Unabel". Everyone calls him that now.

• Drinks on the job.

• going through a messy divorce. He started it.

• Abelvynny??!!!

• hes alergic to peppermint and coconut.

• strange deja vu when he sees certain phones,, like... Whoever the hell Joe and Harry are, and Tango too for some reason. It confuses him and he does NOT like it.

Bunny

• ABEL DIVORCED HIS ASS WHILE BUNNY WAS IN THE HOSPITAL.

• Disabled because of getting slammed with a fucking machine.

• has prosthetic legs,, because,,, getting slammed with madame mediocre,, AND a call back to callum crown.

• ALSO drinks on the job

• doesn't actually like rabbits, changed his name for marketing.

• eats lemons. *

God / Local Hobo

• RARELY gets seriously mad, and when they do, its not that bad

• Churches weird him out,, but doesn't really care. *

• everyone in town knows them in some way.

• hes the one who pissed on the bank floor

• doesn't actually like eating waffles. He'll eat anything but waffles just are for decorative purposes in his mind.

• genderfluid,, but hes usually too drunk to use anything other than he/they.. Used to use everything though. Maybe when sober they'll use she/her,, but again, rarely sober.

• also has a feminine voice,,, just for sillies. *

Shooty n Stabby

• team rocket type shit

• they datin. They queer.

• their head was done by some dude in an alleyway between an applebees and a hospital.

• Originally he knife headed one is stabby, the gun headed one is shooty. They don't know that,, because they only call eachother "bro".

• dialtown mob isn't even that bad.. They're just incompetent. Like zim compared to the rest of the irken empire. Im sorry invader zim brainrots getting to me.

• HAD good weapons before, because mingus didn't know how shitty they were. Never again. Mingus learnt her lesson.

Theoraur Rustlebelt (famed adventurer and explorer)

• chronic back pain from wrangling large animals. Pain

• Put traps outside of gingis tent, gingi ate them

• sleeps holding a gun.

• says bully so much because its FUCKUNG A FUN WORD OKAY I UNDERSTAND THE HYPWY,, BULLY IS A FUN FUCKJNV WKRD*

• likes the colour green a little.. Too much, just doesn't ever wear it.

Little Billy

• Drinks pure ketchup and its scary. *

• Neurodivergent ,, *

• weed. Lots. [[[Most people thinks it's just kid shit, hes high. who gave him weed. ]]]

• Likes breakcore music (like atari teenage riot and machine girl ) *

• hates everyone equally ♡*

• peanut allergy,, but he mainly eats macaroni so does it matter????

• has one of those silly ass spinny chairs to keep him focused in mingling meetings,, but still easily diverges topic [SPINNY CHAOR IDEA WAS TAKEN FROM SOMEONE ELSS BHT I FORGOT FROM WHOM]

• knows a little too much about knives.*

• favourite knife is a bowie knife, since he finds the history neat. Thinks Jim Bowie did some SICK stuff... But like,, jim bowies still a terrible person and he knows it. Stoll that standoff was epic. This is self projecting im sorry***

• lies a lot, even when not needed. *

• picks up spiders and gives them to people he dislikes. *

• aroace,, but hes 7 so he doesn't know yet.. Nor care.

END!!!!! the amount of aroace headcanons is for a spECIFIC REASON!! (im aroace.)

[sultrybaby]

[TRAILER] A memoir of love lost [P.S.H]

summary🦢 In which a cluster of old letters stand as the only testament of sunghoon's love for you, from birth to (quite literally) death.

genre 🦢 romance, angst, some fluff

pairing (s) 🦢 sunghoon x reader | reader x unnamed background character

warnings 🦢 main character death, MAJOR ANGST obviously, not exactly forbidden love but more unfortunate circumstances, domestic abuse, mentions of bleeding and punching (most of the above don't feature in this trailer, but in the actual fic)

w/c 🦢 approx. 500

a/n 🎀 I have read over this like 100 times because it's been so long since I posted smth serious. If there is actually some kind of typo here that I just missed I'm going to cry. Also based on the reception for this trailer ig I'll decide whether to continue this (I'm so close just some edits) or just stick to headcannons (I HAVE SO MANY GUYSSSSS) or maybe I'll do both??? 👀 Anyway I hope the trailer gets yall a bit excited heehee esp yall angst lvrs heehee luv u cutie wooties <3333

-🎀🦢🎀-

"So apparently, this house belonged to a young bachelor once," explained Mary to her all-too-curious daughter eveline, who sat wide-eyed like a little lamb on the floor of the new house the family had just moved into.

'Really?"

"Yes, baby," Mary chuckled, running her fingers through eveline's (or evie, as they lovingly called her) hair to brush the strands away from her face.

"Where is he now?"

"Oh I don't know sweetheart," Mary sighed, lightly amused at the disappointment on evie's face.

"But maybe there are some clues around the house! If you ever get the time,  you should explore. Who knows, you might find something…"

Evie's eyes twinkled in excitement at the prospect of having an adventure in this foreign pile of bricks that she now had to learn to call home. Perhaps this will create a sense of oneship with the house.

Determined to uncover the secrets of the mysterious young bachelor, little evie started on her mission to unearth every corner of the building. After toppling boxes, crawling through crevices, and occasionally bumping her head on random walls, evie finally uncovered a rather absurd looking block.

And that is the story of how Mary was gifted this curious looking box by her exhausted daughter, waddling excitedly to show her the discovery.

The box had an old-fashioned grace to it. It was clearly disintegrating; cheap, fading, yellowed white  paint hung off the corners, all dried up, waiting to be chipped off. It seemed as if there was some kind of locking mechanism in the front of the box which has long been broken. All it took was a simple motion for the mouth of the box to open wide, revealing a neatly stacked set of what one could assume were letters.

The first letter was different to the others. While the rest were prettily folded, this one had a texture much more rough- as if it had been crushed and then straightened again. And on it, in extremely feathery ink, was written,

Dear ____,

You are the sun and the stars and the rose and the beautiful sky. You are made of the serenity of heaven and the tempting evil of hell. You are everything created to be beautiful, and you also make anything beautiful by association. Every day and every night, in light, in darkness, in life, and even now in death, you make me realize why Orpheus would go to the deadly underworld just to get Eurydice back. I understand his pain and longing.

I know we parted ways hurtfully and there is no action I regret more. And in my attempt to tell myself I hated you, I failed in my life's purpose- to truly let you know how much I loved you.

This is a memoir of the love I lost, a love that was but a bubble in air- shining briefly with all the most beautiful colours, then popping abruptly. And this is just an attempt at preserving some of that wonder and beauty so that when my heart aches a bit too much, I can cry to the essence of your soul (which is funny, because you are too much, too great, to be put into words).

Lovingly,

Yours yesterday, today, and forevermore,

Park Sunghoon.

A love story- a tragic one, was etched in the letters following. In that little white box was the history of Park Sunghoon's love for this mysterious woman to whom he had devoted his heart entirely.

And so Mary started reading…

-🎀🦢🎀-

Tagsies <3

@gloomysunny @thomas-the-tank-engene @goldenhypen

@soobin-chois @one16core

@annoyingbitch83

[kenlvry]

Kyle x s/o who smokes nic n weed n gets all cozy when they highing yo, laying o ZAZA!!

high with kyle

an, never smoke weed b4 but i have a vape, does that count as nic?? idk. also what do you call it when you take a smoke.. like take a blunt?? take a huff?? take a hit?? i hope you guys understand what i mean bc im using it in this also gn reader, reader isn't colour coded so dw

"dont be a wuss and do it kyle, it's not like it can do anything to you or anything" you said as you pass the joint to kyle " smoking weed is literally as dangerous as smoking cigarettes" he said passing it back to you "boo ur no fun" you said as you placed it inbetween your mouth, kyle let out a loud sigh "fine give it, if i get cancer it's your fault" you laughed and passed it to him. you two were in your house, your parents isn't coming home soon so why not take this opportunity? he coughed a little but he smoked before so it was ok, still coughing you took it away from his hands "dude where did you even get this?" you were all giggly and took another hit "hehe stans dad" "maybe youve had enough of this, ur wayyy too high" you just laughed and he took more hits anddd before you know it you two were high, you two laughed at every single shit. your cat licking its asshole? funny as hell, you burped? fucking comedian. kyle then dropped the blunt and you were too high to get mad and just laughed "dude we should like totally make out" "what." you stared at him "just kidding omg you totally thought i was being fr" and you bursted out laughing acting as if mans was kevin hart. then the door flung opened, it was stan "DUDE WHAT THE FUCK?? my dad told you bought weed y/n " you stood up walking over to him putting your hand around his shoulder "why? you want it on this?" kyle also walked over "cmon, this shit is actually good" "no thankyou, if you die 5 years from now i won't come to the funeral" you both laughed as he left your house "whatever loser". there were board games on your table and you decided to play snakes and ladders, classic game "cmon kyle what colour counter do you want" he then proceeds to put his counter on the board "kyle thats a chess peice" you to would prank call cartman acting like your funny "um hello yes you have contacted how to be a stripper hotline, do you want to be a stripper?" you two suppress laughter as if he cant hear the "dude shut up" from the other line, you can hear cartman let out a loud sigh "y/n youre the one who called me and this is the 3rd time you called get a life bitch" "thats definitely what a stripper would say" and you two burst out laughing , cartman blocks you atp. he'd green out first like mans is sweating in the middle of snakes and ladders but refuses to loose and is still rolling the dice "dude i think imma puke" "sick dude do it in the bathroom" and he vomits "i think.... i need to lay down" "LAY DOWN ON THE COUCH NOT IN YOUR OWN PUKE". when he wakes up he has no idea of what happens and claims he never smoked but you,stan,cartman and the vomit stain on your carpet says otherwise.