#why else would they be posting that…. connect the dots with me take my hand

[gilears]

d20 official instagram. d20 official instagram look at me. why are you posting reels of the baron romance partner scene. are you trying to tell me something. why are you doing this. d20 official instagram look at me are we getting aroace riz this season. look me in the eyes. aroace riz. you agree.

[itsthestutterforme]

Should We Try Again? 1/2 (toxic!Rafe Cameron x toxic!reader)

Summary: Rafe tries to accuse you of cheating, and you did some snooping of your own. And when Rafe found out you went through his phone, you were in for it.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, Topper is a really good friend in this fic, reader is black, dark themes (choking, threats, arguing, name calling, overall just toxic behavior)

If any of these making you uncomfortable, pls don’t read. Take care of yourselves.

**

You and Rafe had one of your fights again. The yelling match, screaming in each other’s face kind of fight.

The kind of fight where the police gets called because someone heard glass breaking and shouting.

This particular time, he logged into your Instagram and founded close to 50 DMs from guys commenting on your stories where you posted your OOTDs.

You never opened any of the DMs but there were too many to go unnoticed.

“Do you get off on having other guys want you or something? Huh?” He starts as he abruptly forces his way into the bathroom where you were showering.

“What are you talking about, Rafe?” You snark, ringing out the water from your hair.

“What the hell is this?” He rips the shower curtain open.

“Rafe!” You scold, shutting off the water so none leaks onto the floor. He shoves his phone in your face and repeats, “What the hell is this?”

“They’re DMs, Rafe. Why are you talking to me like I did something wrong?”

“Because you did do something wrong by not blocking these sons of bitches. You like the attention, don’t you? You fucking slut.”

“Don’t you dare call me a slut, asshole. It’s DMs. They don’t mean shit!”

You close the shower curtain so you can resume your shower when he ripped it open again.

“Oh it means something when they’re sending dick pics, Y/N! They want to fuck you!”

“It doesn’t matter if they want me because I’m with you, Rafe. Not them.” You tried to reason.

You were already exhausted from work and you really didn’t need this right now.

“You’ve been sending them nudes, haven’t you?” “Are you fucking serious, Rafe?” “Do I look like I’m joking right now?” He says flatly, his nose flaring angrily.

“No, I haven’t sent anybody nudes. I didn’t even know they sent me dick pics because I don’t open them, Rafe.” He gives you a pointed look and you crossed your arms as a challenge.

It was clear you weren’t going to shower in peace so why not add some fuel to this fire.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Shame on me for having fifty unopened DMs but everything is okay when you have hundreds of opened DMs?” You antagonize, slowly stepping out of the shower with suds still on your body.

You watch as his face fell for a few seconds before it hardens once again.

“You’ve been going through my phone?” He asks. “Of course I have! Because I know you’ve been in my phone, desperate to find secrets to use against me. So I figure why not dig up some secrets of my own.”

“Y/N,” he warns lowly, taking a step towards you.

“What did you find?” He wrote down a few things about the cross.

Like where he’s already looked and potential places where it might be. But he hid those notes behind a passcode in his journal.

There were also a few texts of Ward asking ‘if it was taken care of’. Garret’s body.

There was no way you could figure out the passcode, right?

“What are you so scared I would find?” You questioned, purposely being vague. There was no point in being specific, if he was going to connect the dots for you.

His anxiety got the best of him and he wraps a hand around your throat, giving it a warning squeeze.

“Stop being cute and tell me what you saw.” He orders.

There wasn’t a constant pressure so you were able to breathe fairly normal. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind.

“I only went through your social media and some of your messages. Nothing else.” His hand twitched around your throat when you mentioned messages.

“I just wanted to see if you were texting others girls.” You added, wrapping your hands around his wrist.

“What else?” “Nothing else, I swear.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.” “I’m not lying to you.” He pulls away from your throat and you instinctively touched your collar bone.

His gaze softens when you stepped away from him. He itched to get close to you and apologize for over reacting, but he still wasn’t sure that you didn’t know about the gold and the bodies.

So his hands remained by his sides, tightening every so often.

“What are you protecting?” You asked cautiously. “Don’t pull that shit again.” He states before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the front door of your house.

That was a few days ago, and you haven’t spoke to each other since. The most interaction you’ve had was him viewing your story. That’s it.

You’ve been going straight home after work, not wanting to interact with anyone unless you had to.

But a small part of you wished you’d come home to Rafe waiting for you on your door step or him come to see you during your break.

But he never did. That was enough for you to come to the conclusion that he stopped caring about you.

He was so worried about protecting something or someone that was willing to choke you out to protect it.

You’ve seen him anxious about a few things but nothing set him off like you did that night.

You were watching one of your comfort movies with your fleece blanket wrapped around you, eating some stir fry you ordered on UberEats when your phone chimed.

Topper: hey you doing okay?

Tossing the phone back on the bed, you used the chopsticks to dip a piece of beef into the speciality sauce before eating it.

Your phone chimed again.

Topper: We were friends before you started dating Rafe, remember? I care about you too.

You: I assume Rafe told you everything?

Topper: Just that you had an argument and you’re on a break

You: Well that’s an oversimplification.

Topper: I’m throwing a party tonight. You should come.

You: I’m not exactly in the mood to get hit on by a bunch of drunk dudes.

Topper: Stick by me and you won’t have that problem.

You: You’re right. Instead, you would have a Rafe sized problem.

Topper: I’m not scared of Rafe.

Topper: Just come by for a few. It makes me feel uneasy that you’re by yourself at home all this time.

Topper: Please.

You: Fine, Topper.

Topper: Great! I’m on my way.

**

You hated yourself for how quick your eyes locked in on Rafe as soon as he walked into the party wearing a navy blue shirt and a white hat that matched his white cargo shorts.

He dapped up a few guys that greeted him by the front door and looked straight up to where you were sitting next to Topper.

He found you almost immediately with an expressionless face.

Your heart skipped a beat that he looked for you but that feeling of elation left you as quickly as it came.

He didn’t reach out to you for three days. No call. No text. No apology. He was done and now it was your turn to feel the same.

“You two are like magnets,” Topper says from behind you. “Toxic ones,” he eventually adds with a chuckle.

“I knew you were going to say that,” you teased, playfully hitting his shoulder.

Sadness kicked your gut when two girls approached Rafe, one of them ran her hands over his chest as she went to whisper something in his ear.

“I’m going to grab another drink.” You said when you notice Rafe coming up the stairs with the girls.

“I’ll come with you,” you gave him a look. “What? I meant it when I said stick by me. Let’s go.”

He lets you lead the way and you go down the second set of stairs but you stopped abruptly, peering down at your jewelry.

Everything you were wearing was gifted to you by Rafe, even down to the earrings. You still wore the R golden plate necklace and matching anklet. You had his signet ring on your thumb because that was the only finger it could fit.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Topper questions. Rafe was watching the entire interaction from the loveseat you and Topper were just sitting on.

You bent down to take off your anklet and moved to take off your earrings next.

“Can you help me take off the necklace?” You asked, pulling off the ring and placing it with the other jewelry.

“Sure,” he agrees, pushing your passion twists out of the way.

You felt his warm hand brushing against the back of your neck when he unclasped the necklace.

He put the necklace in your outstretched hand. You walked back up the few stairs you crossed and approached Rafe whose eyes were still trained on you.

You let out a shaky breath before taking his warm hand into your own and giving him the jewelry. You were beginning to miss his touch.

Guilt flashed across his face, looking down at his hand. You avoided his gaze and left him without another word, rushing down the stairs and Topper followed after you.

“Well that was dramatic,” one of the girls says, rolling her eyes while her friend eyes the gold carat in Rafe’s hand that easily amounted to 75k.

“Can I have the earrings?” She asked and before Rafe could respond, she reached for them anyway.

Rafe caught her hand in a tight grip and she whimpers at the pressure.

“You’re hurting me,” she groans.

“No one told you to touch what’s hers,” he shoves her to the ground. “Hey! You asshole!” Her friend snaps, standing from the couch and helps her friend to her feet.

He doesn’t spare them another glance as he digs in his pocket for a baggie to do a few lines.

“Y/N,” Topper calls, finally catching up with you in the kitchen. “Are you okay?” He asks you, examining your face for anything he could read.

“You should check on him,” you poured yourself a shot in a small solo cup and knocked it back, barely making a face.

“I’m checking up on you,” “It needed to be done, okay. All of it were just reminders of what I don’t have anymore.” You explain, pouring yourself another shot.

“That was very brave for you to do.” “Then why do I feel like shit?” You huffed after taking another shot and he stops you from pouring another one.

“Because the break up is still fresh, Y/N.” He looks at you like you’re going to fall apart before his very eyes.

His soft eyes examines your face for any micro expression that could give away what you’re thinking.

“Look, Top. I know you’re trying to help and all but if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to cry.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I want to enjoy your party. Your birthday is tomorrow. You shouldn’t be spending it watching me cry.”

“That’s not happening. I’m not leaving you.” He shakes his head and you took his hands into yours, much like you did with Rafe.

But Rafe’s hand were warmer.

“It doesn’t make you a bad friend. I’ll find Sarah.” He studied your face once again and you gave him a soft smile.

“Go,” “Alright,” he says, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “I’ll come find you in like ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” he leaves the kitchen and you let out a deep sigh. You shouldn’t be here.

But you didn’t have the heart to ditch Topper on his birthday rager.

You pressed your palms into the cool, granite countertop and bowed your head to release the tension in your neck.

You hadn’t realize someone was in the kitchen with you until you heard footsteps and someone’s low voice. To your surprise, it was Pope standing on the other side of the counter.

“Sorry, were you saying something?” You asked softly, the shot were slowly starting to get to you.

“I said you are too pretty and insanely smart to be treated like an option.”

That was the nicest thing anyone said to you. You haven’t felt valued in a long time.

“Thanks, Pope. That really means a lot.”

His mouth fell open at your words. “You know who I am?”

“Yes I know who you are. Your family makes the best seafood boils in town.” You explained with a chuckle.

“She knows my name,” he said to himself, which he quickly realized you can hear.

“I should haven’t said that out loud,” he admits and you let out a laugh.

“You’re cute,” he scratches the back of his neck to hide how flustered he way. “Um, are you hiding from Rafe in here?”

“Yes, I am.” You admitted, crossing your arms. “Well if you want some company, my friends are by the bonfire outside. If you want to join. O-only if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything or-“

You interrupted his rant to say, “Sure. I’ll go with you.” You took a solo cup and swung by the keg on the way out, offering some to Pope.

“By the way, what makes you think I’m insanely smart?” “I’m a TA for Mr. Patterson. He still uses your test as a grading key.” He explains after taking a swig of your beer.

“Of course he does. I loved his class.” You admitted with a chuckle. “What is this?”

JJ stands from the chair and motions between you and Pope with his ringed pinky.

“I told her she can hang out with us.” “Hey, JJ.” You greet with a small wave.

“‘Sup, sweetheart. Want a hit?” He offered a blunt to you and you graciously accepted.

He had a grin on his face as he watched you take a hit. He expected you to cough or at least have your eyes water from the potency but much to his surprise, you exhaled the puff of smoke slowly without a fuss.

The mix of the weed and the tequila was throwing your head in a spin. “Never pegged you to be a pothead,” “I’m full of surprises, Maybank.”

A drunk Rafe stumbles outside in search for you when he finds you laughing with Pope and JJ.

JJ noticed your shivering whenever there was a breeze and peeled off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

Rafe wasn’t even aware what was happening until his vision started to blur.

He was crying.

[vinestaffery]

Scythe X cop or detective reader where Scythe kidnaps reader to join her cult or somthing

of course!! im a bit tired atm and my schedule bursted up again, so the other people that have requested, i will be taking a bit of a while to post them fully, but i promise i am working on them!! sadly this is gonna have to be a drabble, im so sorry </3

Characters: Scythe, GN! Reader Prompt: One-sided Romance I think???, Small Drabble Warnings: Usage of (pet) names; Mentions of murder; Slightly descriptive but vague of how Scythe killed civilians; Religious themes; Kidnapping; Drugging; Scythe being a literal serial killer; Indoctrination(?)

Days were never suppose to be this harsh. You were always looking for new angles for the strange disappearances of many civilians in Lost Temple, yet it seemed like every new case was to mock your work.

Someone was watching you, for all you know.

Days were becoming longer, more dissociative then regular. Someone was watching you, you could feel it. It was like being played with like prey, if anything, a piece of meat in the claws of a carnivore.

But, it didn't let you shoot you down off your pedestals. You still, somehow, no matter what found a way to link to your suspects. White, gold and teal clothing, and the way the victims were left.

Cut, bloodied and garnished. Ripped apart in one slick-move, a slice. Head, shaven off of it's horns before being squashed like a tomato with a heel.

You were connecting up the dots to your very last suspect; Scythe.

You met her a few times, once at a bar, another when you had nearly gotten into some beef with some stragglers late at night. She was somewhat always there to support you, but would be never seen again. You took note of this.

When the investigation was left up to you, the police huddling outside for their break; the sun blared down below the alleyway. The shadows were your spectators, witnesses to a brutal massacre of several.

It was her. It was her, how she always disappeared, how everything seemed to become more of a blur. She was always there.

All she had to do, was find her, or catch her in the act.

"I'll get you, one way or another," you whispered to yourself.

"Well, you've bet to get on wit' it, don'tcha?"

A voice seemed to silence all thoughts. You didn't turn to face the new opponent.

You readied your hand-gun that was strapped to your left thigh, hand hovered cautiously over it.

"You and ya littl' ol' brain, finally come to make senses haven't cha? Fufufu..." Scythe laughed, a claw raised and a large weapon rested on her shoulder.

Your heart was thumping, you had no clue what had happened to the people that were here before; blood leaked across the floorboards.

"You must watch yourself, Snake, or else," you threatened, vile in your throat and hatred in your words.

"Or else what, my fine sheep, you goin' to do something?" Her name-calling was getting on your nerves. "The sheep, the one who follows, threatenin' big ol' me? Why, what a show."

"You best watch your tone, or else I'll get those men to take you away-" "And do what? Shoot me with this?" She plucked a gun from her pocket, you could hear it fall and chatter on the cold, hard ground. It rung in your ears.

"Say, maybe if you are ta hear me out, I'll leave ya' be!" Scythe snarled in a smirk, eyeing at you as you gave a small turn. Your hand still readied by your waist.

"And what must that be?" You questioned.

It took her seconds before she was up close, hand over your prepared one as she pulled you into a hold. Your hands, crunched in her soft leather glove while the other one, outstretched and squished by her metal.

"Scream, and everyone in this town's blood will be on your hands, rabbit," You were petrified but held in your sounds, clogged in your throat. You could just throw up.

She took notice, and started dragging you away. In a sorts of type of kidnapping, it was uncomfortable. She caressed your cheek, holding you close as she kept viable eye on you.

Everything started to become fuzzy, did she slip a drug into you by chance? No, she couldn't have. That's not her sense of style. But, everything and everywhere became unrecognizable.

"That's it, we're nearly there, my sweet," Scythe was astonished at how you were still able to walk, to even keep yourself up with her as you seemed to become tired and unable to respond.

Her scorpion tail came back close to her once more.

"Fucking- scorpion.." You pointed out, the tip of her stinger dripped a certain chemical before you fell into the warm-heated sand.

Light's blared into your face as you suddenly awoke. Your back was in pain, brain spinning and pleading to be free from it's coffin.

"Fuck-.. where?"

"Ah-ah ah! Don't want the doctors hard-work to be demolished shall we?" Scythe's voice rung through the room. It echoed in your ears.

"Where am I!" You screamed, but it seemed no use as she walked over. Her heels clicked to the solid, clear marble ground.

A hand reached over, two clawed fingers pinched at your chin and made her look up. God, she was tall, and quite beautiful, for a serial killer. "Wouldn't wanna wake up the others now, do we?" Her scorpion tail threatened as it reached in view.

Eyes widened, and a simple nod in command. She let go in a rough manner.

"Now, you best listen to me, or else you'll end up the same way those people ended up," Your ears wanted to close, but you made eye-contact with her.

She took it as an agreement.

"You've rose quite an interest in me, my sweet. I wouldn't think such people like ya' would be so heavily fascinated in my work of art," Work of art? What is she talking about? Those were never work of art. Those were polished crime-scenes of horror. Onslaughts.

"Now, I wouldn't want my favourite detective, my favourite sheep to be close to finding out about me now do I?" You shook your head.

"Good. Now, if you want to live and make it out of this room alive, you best follow my words," Alive?! "What do you mean 'make it out alive'? I have no deeds to share with you!" You spat.

"Oh, but you mustn't think of it that way. Think of it as a way of... saving you and mine's life. You see, I work for someone quite special deity," Special? Who could be anymore special then the SfOTH? The respected deities, gods if you will?

"There's no one as special as the SfOTH, those deities would crush someone as despicable as your boss."

That struck a nerve.

"You best keep that mouth shut, or else I will do more damage then what my boss would do to you and everyone in this god-for-saken town," Her weapon in hand, you squeaked. You stayed quiet once more.

"... Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I want you to join me, in order to protect you from the harms that might come your way for your... case," "Work with you?" "Yes."

You could nearly laugh! But you couldn't, you'd die.

"...Any benefits?"

"Oh, darling. Benefits were already arranged the first time we met," You snarled. Of course, she was planning this all along at the very start.

"Now, do we have a deal?"

Silence.

A long, period of silence.

"Well?"

You couldn't stop thinking about your family. Your friends, people you considered close.

"You best answer me, clock is ticking."

Your father, mother, what about your pets? What about, what about, what about?!

A slam of the chair, and a rising heat of pain strucking your face as you cried out.

"I've given you one chance at this, now you best answer me! Yes, or nay?" Scythe knelt down to face at you.

"One."

No Answer.

"Two."

No answer.

"THREE-"

"I ACCEPT! I will join your stupid- fucking team!"

...

"Good."

[furinana]

The undertones behind Walter and Jonathan's relationship that you might not know about

I'll be calling attention to traits present in their dynamic that are unknown to most players in the West due to incomplete localization.

Now... where do we begin? Oh, right. In the part after you're done with Naraku and get to spend the holiday with the other two.

This scene is presented in almost the same way in both languages but Jonathan's reaction seems emphasized on a specific word in the Japanese script.

"T...t-t... that's crude, Walter. I would never... such a thing like that to women..."

In either case, if this ended at Jonathan's response, it would be mostly nothing worth commenting on. Jonathan is the Law representative raised by a family that worked in the Monastery so naturally he's gonna behave in a more chaste way, correct?

But then you have Walter's posture becoming uncomfortable followed by immediately changing subjects as if he's already in the know of what Jonathan was anxious about compared to the player (thus Flynn) being rather out of loop about what was going on.

The thing is... the meaning was actually already available for the players, even prior to SMTIV's release! That is, if you accessed the official website and clicked on the interviews with the Japanese voice actors (which included in-character voice clips). All of the translations presented in this post were done by takujilvr

"I'll only tell you this because it's you, all right? Only because it's you! I'm afraid I can't bring myself to like women very much. Being raised in a household with two elder sisters and one younger made me lose any illusions about them I might've had. You're a man, so I feel much more at ease with you."

Certainly, he doesn't seem to specifically refer to anyone in this clip. It could be Flynn or probably anyone else as long as they're a male.

But there are other voice clips aside this one that point towards a more definitive interpretation.

"Enough of that "Ooh, you'll catch cold!" drivel, Jonathan, you sound like a naggy old wife. I can't abide being constricted, this chest must stay bared!"

"S-Stop pulling my hair, Walter! It won't straighten out, I got it from my mother!"

They don't have voice clips directly acknowledging anyone else, leading to the impression that Walter and Jonathan were being more marketed as a duo over their dynamic with the main character.

But the shocking reveal comes with this one:

"I'll only say this if you promise not to tell anyone! Cats, I just love 'em. When I see one outside, I can't help but crouch down and give it some pets! Wait, no. I mean, listen, I can't stand fish. And they can take it off my hands, can't they? That's why I love cats. Right."

A player that reached the part where the party gets hit by Yaso Magatsuhi's scent in Roppongi will thus connect the dots:

How one interprets the twist of this scene might change entirely with the voice clip in mind. It opens the possibility that, differently from many players' assumptions, Jonathan was acting like a feline not because he's secretly a cat lover. But, most likely, due to WALTER liking them. And he would have no way of knowing that unless Walter told him off-screen.

To summarize...

Jonathan is unable to feel attraction for girls and feels more comfortable with guys which would be inevitably an obstacle for his future considering his conservative background

Walter has phobia of fish despite what his family does for trade and has a soft spot for cats specifically because they eat them for him which would be defined as a 'weakness' to his self-reliant image

1 and 2 are each most's intimate secret and they revealed them for each other

"But how much does this add to the main plot?" Even when pushing aside subtleties from this extra material, attentive Megaten veterans would notice that the Law & Chaos representatives from SMTIV have an explicitly close bond compared to most characters of opposing sides in other titles of the mainline series.

[Jonathan was the most visibly affected by their breakup]

This extra material essentially adds more to the range of interpretation regarding their intimacy while also making them more relatable beyond their surface of Law & Chaos pieces.

On this note, moments where they "crack" their own alignments also happen briefly in-game.

They were two boys of the same age that became instant close friends however became unable to conciliate the differences emphasized by their caste system and reach the understanding of what would be the best for everyone.

All of this leads to the player's realization that Jonathan and Walter ultimately didn't perfectly antagonize each other as humans but were "pushed" towards their extreme roles by ulterior forces that would subsequently be further exposed in the sequel.

[ciaomarie]

Part 2: What Then?

I promise I have a life, but I couldn't help writing part 2 today! This takes place the same day as the "Development Day" when Syd and Carmy are thrown off by each other's answers during an ice breaker activity. Post-season 2. Feel-good fluff.

Photo Credit @drrav3nb /  drrav3nb.tumblr.com

"So those are the menu changes for Chicago Restaurant Week. If you have questions, feel free to ask me or Chef Sydney. You should also have an email from Natalie by later today. Okay, let's prep for night service!"

Carmy closed the meeting, grateful that it was finally over. He was no longer afraid of public speaking after rising in the ranks of various kitchens, but his mind was not in this ever since the ice breaker. He, Carmen Berzatto, had made Sydney's favorite meal ever? The last time he prepared the pork confit and the Milk and Honey dishes she mentioned was several years ago. Back then he was at Eleven Madison Park, a rising star on the culinary scene, who chain-smoked, slept 3 hours a night, and was berated by the EC daily. It was a nightmare peppered with flashes of genius. He was dying to ask her about it, but before he could get her attention Sydney had slipped into the kitchen.

He stared disappointed at the window that separated the dining area and kitchen.

"Hey Bear, what's up with you?" Richie said sidling up to him trying to follow his gaze.

"Nothing cousin."

"Yeah, right. I missed when it happened, but it seems like you crashed and had to reboot during the meeting. Then you were lost in Sydney-land. Want to talk about it?"

Carmy rubbed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. When he used both hands, Richie knew without a doubt he had hit on something.

"First, cool it about Syd. That handout you gave us was really cute. And yes, there's something on my mind, but it's not for me to say."

Richie grinned and rubbed Carmy's shoulder.

"Fine, just get your head together because tonight is going to be loaded and it includes three anniversaries and a birthday. And second, you need to cool it about her or do something. It's like I'm living in The Wonder Years with Kevin and Winnie."

"What?"

"Oh, right. That's probably before your time. Kids!"

With that Richie sauntered over to the host stands to strategize with the wait staff and hosts.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sydney who had a thousand things to do, was adding at least a hundred more onto her plate. She didn't want to appear like she had a moment to spare. She and Carmy could talk at the end of the night as usual, without any eavesdropping. This would also give her time to think of an explanation as to why she never mentioned eating at Eleven Madison Park and that she wasn't a stalker who followed him to The Beef. To top off this awkward sundae, Carmy casually admitted his favorite part of the day was closing, the only time they are alone every day. She hoped no one else had connected the dots on that last part.

The afternoon and the night never went quicker to her chagrin. Even when one of the line cooks was sent home due to illness and a large group put in an order for 7 Fishes two minutes before tickets closed, she thought the night couldn't last long enough. Fortunately, Carmy seemed resigned to waiting and didn't look at her more than usual. In a flash service was over and no one was in the mood to hang around. By 11:00pm Sydney had cleaned her station for the third time and forced herself to go to Carm's office. He sat there pretending to do busy work, patiently waiting like a child who consoled himself that his parents wouldn't make him wait too long to open his Christmas presents.

"Hey Syd...it was a good night," he said softly not wanting to scare her away.

Sydney nodded and took a seat. Might as well get it over with it.

"Okay, yes. You made the best meal I've ever had. During a break at the CIA, I went to NYC and ate everywhere on my list, including Eleven Madison Park. It was a Wednesday night and I ordered several things including pork confit and Milk and Honey."

Sydney couldn't help closing her eyes and smiling at the memory. Her guard began to slip.

"Carm, it was like tasting my future and the best part of my past at the same time. I asked the waiter who made those dishes and he said Carmen Berzatto."

Carmen leaned forward on the desk. Whenever Sydney praised him, he felt like a cactus in an unexpected downpour. He wouldn't waste a single word. Her sunny existence and her belief in him sustained him during his dry seasons. He reached for her whenever he looked at the debt they still owed Uncle Cicero, when his mother finally visited The Bear and cried saying that he had erased Mikey, and even when their success seemed too good to be true. 

Sydney opened her eyes to find him looking at her in the way he had. It was terrifying because she had a very specific plan for her career. It also thrilled her, knowing the power she had over him. Five months ago, she had been begging for his focus and now she knew every her mood, glance, and word she spoke impacted him. Once for the fun of it during a slow night she stared at him until she drew his attention and smiled. He blushed, smiled back, came towards her without saying "corner", and crashed into one of the servers, sending three Michael cannoli to the floor. That was three months ago when she first realized something was going on with him. She'd refused to abuse her power since, going so far as to convince herself that she was overestimating his feelings. Then he said the best part of his day was closing. She hoped, well sort of hoped, that they could maintain this close, but not too close partnership and friendship without complications.

After a long pause Carmen sighed and sat back in his chair.

"So, how did you find me?"

"Well, like I said when we met, it was the job posting. I recognized your name and also The Beef from my dad taking me here."

She shrugged thoughtfully.

"It felt like it was meant to be. It gave me hope for the first time since Sheridan went under."

He nodded.

"It's really strange. You came here because I inspired you and the only reason, I felt capable of attempting something this big was because of you" he said gesturing to the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Sydney whispered.

"Yeah."

He stood up and walked around to sit on the desk facing her. Now, Sydney felt vulnerable looking up at him. It was so easy for him to unnerve her when he spoke this way, like under the table.

Carmy took one her hands and after a moment brought it to his lips.

"Thank you for telling me, Syd. It means a lot."

Sydney was unable to speak. Her throat had closed.

"Soon, is your one year work anniversary and I think we should celebrate."

She nodded.

Carmy set her hand down.

"It's late. I'll drive you home."

With that they left the office, gathered their stuff, and walked to his car in silence.

As they drove, Sydney attempted to talk herself down. Was that hand kiss, an Italian thing? Possibly. It also seemed like Carmy decided to do...something, but what? Worse, she was feeling like they had traded positions in mere seconds. She'd enjoyed having the upper hand. Oh, well. With a goodnight's rest she'd be back in form tomorrow. Maybe "accidentally" brush past him, or ask him to lift something heavy for her and comment on his strength. Then it would be game over for poor Carmy bear. For now, she wouldn't worry about the work anniversary. It was probably just going to be a cake Carm commissioned Marcus to bake.

Probably.    

[exhosionn]

i’ve been here for a while and i still don’t know how to use this app anyways i need somewhere to post all my really random sampard headcannons so here we are honestly it’s really just random bullet points i’ve compiled and also most of this was written at 2am so there might be some spelling mistakes.. probably one other thing to mention, im not a lore reader,, i’ve been trying to recently because i find it really interesting but any details i’ve missed is bc i haven’t read it all yet 💔💔

gepard although hes not too great at taking plants (hes def trying tho) id like to think in his spare time he has like a book on floriography and goes to flower shops to buy sampo flowers with specific meanings?(like he goes to a flower shop and requests very specific types of flower arrangements)

sampo knows a LOT of things about belebog that no one else does some kind of like historical knowledge however i think the reason why sampo wont actually KNOw any floropgraphy is because with all his vast knowledge from across the universe as a masked fool, why would he bother to know something as ‘mundane’ as the meaning behind flowers.

to link to that, i think with sampos big world he sorrta gets dragged down to belebog in like a nice way and through gepard learns that the small things in life ACTUALLY matter or they noow matter. so for example these flowers he gets he never knows the meaning of them, def gets flustered by gepard initiating anything at all lmao.

i think sampo would ask around the underworld such as natasha, seele, even hook tbh about the meaning behind these flowers usually getting information from natasha. BUT he doesnt just outright ask he would like slip it into conversation because hes sly like that. Natasha very obviously catches on quite early on and although shes not as knowledgeable with the meanings she still retains enough information for sampo to start relying on her to help decode gepards bouquet.

one way or another serval catches wind of this (through natasha) and i think thats how she connects the dots

sampo most definitely leaves back notes with kisses on them on gepards windowsill (gep leaves his windows unlocked always.)

i can also imagine sampo to ‘retaliate’ somehow finding some extinct belobog flower and gifting it to geppie being all like ‘i bet ya can’t find the meaning behind this one’ lolll

gepard is a gay in denial in the sense that hes never had a crush on a woman but he sees madam poisson and he has a MASSIVE crush on her. everytime serval asks him if hes gay he brings up his ‘past’ crush on madam poisson.

gepard the 'nuh-uh' vs serval the 'yuh-huh’

serval has gepard as "gay man sighted in belobog" in her phone - sampard nation gave me these last two

serval and natasha they totally hang out at natasha’s clinic occasionally idk why i just see it

sampo kisses the scars on geps body

gep is taller w shoes one but actually shorter than sampo usually but no one believes sampo when he says thisn bc no one sees gep without his boots off.

sampo could be having the most absolute worst day and see gepard and feel beter same works for gepard except he doesnt realise it as much because gepard is more like ‘huh my headache clears from seeing sampo yeah he just uh annoys me so much that i think my heacache is clearing hahahaha’

soarkle and sampo sibling dynamic seems really funny but at times i also dont see it if we apply the whole sampo might be an emanator theory idk i think its silly at times but sometime it doesnt make sense….

on the other hand although it doesnt logically work sampo and seele sibling dynamic i actually really like it like a lot

i feel like gepard wears grampa pajamas?

although gepard def gets flustered by sampos flirting all the time, the one who actually initiated anything i believe would be gepard (ill go more into why i think so at a later date)

both of them are really light sleepers and have trouble sleeping all the time

also gep likes to hold onto sampo a lot when they fall asleep cuz he get scared that sampo might just leave randomly

i love these two sosososo much im going insane i need more headcannons to fill the brainrot

[decepti-thots]

four different headcanons for Whirl!

Headcanon A:  realistic

so when you actually put together whirl's full pre-war backstory the fact he joined the autobots is definitely. interesting! he had more reason to hate the decepticons than the autobots, of course, but like, barely. (there's definitely an alternate universe where whirl was a neutral bounty hunter or something, i'm just saying.) my headcanon has always been that whirl joined despite everything because when optimus specifically invited him to, whirl recognised that he could play off optimus' guilt towards his own responsibility for a lot of the shit that happened wrt whirl he failed to adequately intervene in. and then he did that, lmao. whirl got away with a lot for a long time, and even taking into consideration he was a wrecker with the immunity to consequences that implies, i think the idea that things- problems- kept quietly going away because (for reasons almost nobody else can fathom) optimus keeps making them go away is interesting. and whirl joining up like 'well, let's see how far i can run with this', only to somehow run with it all the way to the end of the war, which he didn't expect.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

realistically i do not think whirl honestly thought enough about tailgate at all early on for this to be correct. but in my heart i believe very strongly that whirl knew that tailgate was lying about who he was from the second he opened his mouth, told nobody, and relentlessly trolled tailgate by putting him on the spot for shits and giggles. it's just too funny for me to let go of even as i acknowledge whirl and tailgate barely interact early on. just making this little mech's life a constant hell with his pointed questions and not-quite-nitpicking.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

i think it actually really fucks with whirl that springer woke up! whirl is very quick to emphasise that his attempt to kill springer was out of a belief that he was never going to recover and that refusing to turn off the life support was wrong (and knowing post-wrequiem springer probably survived because he has a unique spark...), and i honestly don't see any reason to disbelieve him. whirl's a violent asshole, but the specific series of events doesn't make much sense if he isn't telling the truth. so when he finds out springer did in fact wake up, i think that's a rare thing where it kind of throws him for a loop. probably going overboard to say he feels guilty, but i do think buried under a lot of 'what do i care i'm a killing machine' bravado, the fact he made such a miscalculation would bother him. (it's one thing to callously murder someone on purpose. it's another to nearly do so by accident because your judgement is, apparently, impaired.) good luck getting that one out of him, though.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

a very long time ago, minimus on a pre-war cybertron comissioned a custom timepiece from him. minimus has absolutely no memory of this being a pre-empurata whirl and will never connect the dots. whirl, on the other hand, found it very funny when the magnus armour stuff came out. he's made at least one oblique reference to minimus' pre-war life that really startled him because what the fuck why does whirl know that.

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 13

Pairing: mick schumacher x hamilton!reader (she/her)

Warnings: curse words, twitter environment, mention of food, not proofread etc, etc. Minors DNI!

summary: The media is getting enough content to make Yn decide to take a step back from social media and everything that can further expose her personal life. Besides that, she has to deal with ghosts from the past and the curious gazes of fans who start to connect the dots when enough data is gathered.

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

a/n2: I tried some new tolls on this chapter (gossip websites and other social media profiles), so please let me know if you guys like it or if it was better the way I was doing it before.

a/n3: The angsty season is about to begin, so get ready!!! I have the next chapter almost ready, so we're gonna try something new: as soon as this chapter hits 100 notes I'm posting the new one.

ALSO, I'm really thankful for all the likes, reblogs, and comments on Komh, it means a lot and it motivates me to keep writing. Thank you, guys! *mwah* 💖💗

part. 12 | series masterlist | part. 14 | taglist

theofficialyn

liked by zendaya, lewishamilton, and others

theofficialyn recharging the energies with the fam 🤍

view all 4,496 comments

hammertim3 Forever thankful to you for feeding us some wholesome Lewis content 🙏🏾

mickshoemaker not to start drama or anything, but the first picture…and the sixth…am I the only one seeing Mick’s hands?

⤷ parisyn you guys are reaching, this is getting out of hand. just top

lewishamilton I love you to infinity, bitsy 🖤

swiftieeras Yn wearing skinny jeans is something else 😍

summerseasonf1 It’s so good to see them happy

roscoelovescoco I love’s spending’s time’s with you’s, aunties Yns 🧡🧡

user1999 why are the polaroids face down in the fourth pic?

⤷ mickceded because it's none of our business. y’all too curious

.📧

theofficialyn

liked by charles_leclerc, normani, and others

theofficialyn All tested and perfectly ready for the collection's launch on August. For more info visit ynthebrand.com

view all 5,204 comments

user0 These heels look lowkey ugly, and let's not even get on the unsafe portion

lewishamilton so proud of you ❤️

queenyn I loved how she went full mode on the colours, there are just enough options and they are all so pretty aaaaa

francisca.cgomes I am so ready for those boots to come out!!!! Loving everything, Yn 😍

⤷ hammermilton all the wags supporting Yn, brb I'm gonna cry

hater12 those green heels are horrendous 🤢🤢

user45 those are regular shoes, nothing much about them...I don't see why everyone praises Yn, honestly

user1 overrated.

huser99 🤮🤮🤮🤮

leferrariclerc We rarely get mickyn interactions anymore and I blame it on the lack of limits from some of you on the fandom 😭

⤷ schumini he doesn't even like her stuff anymore 💔

username3 Those all jeans outfit lmao you guys call it style? she dress as bad as lewis 🤡🤣

ynfrance whats up with all the hate?????????? Yn deserves better!

⤷ swiftieracing I think the haters finally were able to catch up with the news that she's lewis sister and so she got his fans but his haters as well.

⤷ verstopping I honestly don't understand why people hate on Lewis, much less on Yn now

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @mellowpizzapuppy @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie

DRAMA IS ABOUT TO BEGIN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Get ready for some angsty chapters <3

I have the next one almost ready, so we're gonna try something new: as soon as this chapter hits 100 notes I'm posting the new one. Let's do this, I'm excited (but also kinda insecure) about the next one, fingers crossed you guys will like it 😘.

[visualtaehyun]

My running commentary for ep. 6 of Love Sea spans six (!) entire pages in my notes compared to my usual 2-4 so imma toss em all up on here for a change, gonna get back to specific language things in a new post later but i'm too lazy rn to explain any thai in my comments lol (i'll just link y'all previous explanations if applicable 👍 here's to 'teaching' thai by straight-up pushing you into the water and hoping you'll start flapping your arms enough to qualify as swimming lmao)

Rak อ้อน's, smiles sweetly, asks to eat at home to honor mut's cooking

'or bc the feelings have changed already?' MUT'S IN LOVE 😭

Title: ตอนที่ หึงคืออาการของคนมีความรัก

why does rak อ้อน so much omg 😭

bro. when mut stops vi from telling him about prin, saying he'd prefer hearing it from rak once he opens up to him, and vi says: 'Don't let this end as just a transaction.' 🥹 พี่วีเอ็นดูหมุดไปแล้ว she loves her best friend and clearly thinks mut is so good for rak 🥺

soft tone, plink-plank music and a sweet smile but the line- "คุณเพิ่งด่าไอ้เด็กเหี้ยนั่นว่า เอาเวลาว่างไปหาอะไรใส่หัว ดีกว่าเสือกเรื่องของคนอื่น ผมไม่อยากเป็นคนเหี้ยครับ" ("You just told that bitch to invest her time in educating herself instead of being nosy. I don't want to be like her.") lmaooo

'usually everyone hears about me from someone else' :<

the word subbed as gigolo that rak uses to describe his father is แมงดา - can mean pimp or male prostitute or gigolo but certainly comes from how male horseshoe crabs will cling onto a female's back during mating season, taking advantage of its mate, and is thus used to disparage men who benefit off of women financially

that lil kiss on the top of rak's head? surely fort adding on haha

Vi all alone, looking kinda blue, while mook งอน's, keeps rejecting her calls, and tries to distract herself by going out with friends (one of which is clearly Som Supatsorn from Cosmos <3)

Mut's allowed in rak's room!!!

the way rak manhandles mut into exactly the position he wants to cuddle in 🥹

he really is so cat-like <3

oho. i can already see the commentary coming about how mut started touching rak without consent/while he's sleeping 🌚 don't listen to the haters, p'may, that entire scene was piping hot and this is fiction anyway

love that mut calls them คุณมุก and พี่วี :) really goes to show the difference in familiarity levels

fucking love how shocked both kom and mut are to see each other here 😂 and how dumb-struck and speechless mut is bc he doesn't know how to explain lmao

Mut: "อย่างที่มึงคิดนั้นแหละ กูโดนซื้อมา" - Kom: 🤦‍♂️

lmao rak looks so pouty-jealous AND TATTLES ON KOM TO CONNOR 🤣

so interesting to me that connor and rak use ฉัน/นาย with each other

Kom uses ผม/คอนเนอร์

I can't believe mut just found out that rak and connor used to sleep with each other and didn't connect the dots before djsjshdhw not true actually, I read too much into the dialogue and know now from reading even just the prologue of Love Sea that they're really just best friends

this fight is so funny55555

Ugh i love this. seeing the besties bitching to each other, how comfortable they feel in each other's homes, just everything about their behavior makes it so clear how close they are! (same for kom and mut too)

Vi: "1-10?" - Rak: "หงุดหงิดระดับ 8 อยากง้อแต่กลัวเสียฟอร์ม พอใจมึงยัง" I LOVE THIS

Vi is such a schemester 🤣

love that mut sits by the water as he's stressing about rak while on the phone with kom

I've only had meena for a minute and i already love the girl 🥺 loves mint-choc icecream, calls herself เค้า with ing-ing (and she does so too), the cutest haircut, walking holding hands with her friend, and she really is a clever girl

this actress is so talented for her age wow

Mut honey 🥺 the fact that he starts to ง้อ by disparaging himself like nooo rak would never think of you that way, he doesn't care about the money or contract at all!

nooo the way rak talks to his niece 😭❤️

Meena 😂 i love her

love how น้ารัก sounds so close to น่ารัก :)

she's 13, gotcha

Meena: "งั้น ให้พี่มุกมารับมีนาก็ได้ไง" Rak, smiling: "ไม่ได้ มุกมันตัวแค่นั้นนะ" :>

Meena's reactions are everything 🤣

immediately calls mut พี่

Mut: "ไม่สิ พี่จะทำให้เขา ต้องรัก พี่" ("No. I'm going to make him 'must love' me.") -> throwback to the scene where he said he couldn't possibly ask someone like khun tongrak to ต้องรักคนอย่างผม (or sth like that)

this kid55555 love that she just declares I'm gonna call you น้าหมุด and you've no choice in this lmao, also switching from หนู to มีนา

Mut: "วันนี้คุณว่าง่ายกว่าปกตินะ" ("You're surprisingly docile today.") ว่าง่าย = docile, obedient, submissive, compliant, to listen well!

me, this entire episode: peat's eyes are so gorgeous

"Go ahead and do it." 🙅‍♀️ "อยากทำก็ทำ" = wanna do it then do it/if you wanna do it then go ahead

omg 🥺 "ผมเป็นของคุณอยู่แล้ว" ("I'm all yours.")

🫢 the implication here that mut is fucking rak's mouth HOLY diddly dOO

not only do we get to see that of fucking course was vi fibbing up a storm about her grandma but we also get to hear chanya speak french 🥰

I. Love. This. Show!

[ghuleh-recs]

♡ Fandom Faves Tag ♡

Tag 1-3 (or as many as you want) of your favorite creators (writers, artists, outstanding members of the community etc) and link your favorite creation if you can.

Thank you for the tags @midnight-moth and @coffeeghoulie! I'm gonna challenge myself to not wax poetic and keep these extra short and sweet. That way it's not as intimidating for others to participate (hope that makes sense). Oh and I'm not putting a "keep reading."

Witness my faves (ง •̀_•́)ง

@midnight-moth (who started this tag game ♡) drew THE Phantom art of all time and I recently went absolutely feral for:

Buried in Treasure - Dew x Phantom - E, 3.6k

When his eyes roll forward again, he notices more than just the same riff playing over and over. He notices Phantom’s grip on his hand simultaneously go still and tight. He notices the rosy flush on his cheeks, and the tent in his pants that he tries to conceal with the hand holding the phone. It takes more than a few seconds for all of the dots to connect and when the thought is fully formed, Dew grabs the phone and launches it to the end of the bed.

@ramblingoak hey why is there an angel in the satanic band fandom? I created this whole blog so I could shout about:

The Cardinal's Bride - Cardinal Copia x F!Reader - E, 91k (wip)

A Romantic Adventure in the Old West: After being forced into a marriage with Mr. Saltarian by your father you are sent west to his estate in Nevada. Along the way you end up meeting one of the cowboys you have always fantasized about…

@conjuring-ghouls finds the perfect moments and turns them into the loveliest gifs. On top of that she is endlessly kind and supportive. Look at these!!!

@coffeeghoulie is writing the Aeon x Swiss hurt/comfort fic of y'all's dreams and I got to do my first "official" art collab for it yay!!

Eternal Heatstroke - Aeon x Swiss - M, 17k (wip)

For once in their life, Aeon feels lucky. Whoever's opened this portal, whoever's summoning ghouls Up Top, specifically wants a quintessence ghoul. They may not be the biggest or strongest quintessence ghoul, far from it, but they'll do anything this summoner wants if it means they get to live. Or: being Topside is a drastic change from the life Aeon's used to.

@writingjourney truly the kindest soul and an absurdly talented writer. I screenshot Ibi's tags on my posts all the time because they cheer me up so much 🥹🥹

Friday Nights (series) - Papas x GN!Reader - E, 40k

“But to die as lovers may - to die together, so that they may live together.” ― Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla Each of these stories features a vampire papa and a gender neutral reader.

@anamelessfool writes some of the best world building and characterizations that I have ever read in fanfiction AND she's a fantastic artist.

Violence & Gentleness - Primo x OC - E, 50k (wip)

You made me forget myself...I thought I was someone else, someone good... LATE OCTOBER 1979 Primo has his work cut out for him as the bodyguard of the beautiful and fearsome Mater Emerita Jocasta. As mystery after mystery unfolds, it becomes harder to remain a honest man in this den of thieves called the Ministry.

@foxybouquet makes wonderful art and her colloquial Italian posts are an incredible resource for the fandom.

@angellayercake has angel in her username for a reason tbh. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I learned important things about myself and my love language whilst reading the brilliant:

Banchetto - Terzo x F!Reader - E, 22k (wip)

Papa Emeritus III is struggling to adapt to his life after the Ghost project but perhaps some good homemade Italian food will do the trick.

(I'm cutting myself off here because I could do this all day. I will probably be making another list in the near future because I love and admire so many of you. 😅)

No pressure at all but I would really love to see this tag game keep going! If you're reading this please consider adding some of your personal favorites to the list! This fandom could use some positivity right about now ♡

[teaberrii]

Chapter 16: Connecting the Dots

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“You’re being threatened?” Stelle’s unexpected revelation almost makes Pom drop his cookie. “By who? Why?”

Stelle fidgets as she says, “I don’t know.” She gets up from the couch and picks up her phone off the coffee table. “I… took a picture of the note.”

Her bottom lip curls inwards as Pom watches her tap her phone a few times. Then, she hands it to him. Upon reading the messy scrawl on the ripped piece of paper, Pom immediately gets goosebumps. However, is it just him, or does the scrawl look a little familiar?

"Do you have any idea who'd do this?" Pom asks. "A fan? A… friend, maybe?” She looks down, hesitant to answer. “Stelle…?”

Finally, she looks at Pom and says, “No. I have no idea who'd do this, but..."

"Does the writing look familiar?"

Stelle is looking away from him when she says, "My brother."

Pom blinks once. Twice. “Caelus? How? Isn’t he, um, studying abroad?”

“I know his handwriting.” Pom takes another look at the photo, and it’s then he feels as if the scrawl mimics someone who’s slowly losing his mind. “His writing isn’t usually messy,” Stelle continues. “But I know it’s his.”

Pom gives her phone back. “But why would he write this? The message itself doesn’t make much sense if he’s the one who wrote it.”

Stelle sighs and leans back. “I… I don’t know, Pom. My dad’s been acting strange. Caelus hasn’t been answering me. I just… I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“Acting strange? How?”

“He’s been doing everything he can to keep that article from running.” Stelle looks up at the ceiling. “The Withering supposedly makes people go crazy. With the way my dad’s obsessing over this article”—she scoffs—"the disease is truly making him lose his mind.”

Hold on a minute. Is Stelle supposed to know about the details of The Withering? Pom remembers her father mentioned that he doesn’t know much about it himself besides that it’s rare. Perhaps she read about it somewhere, but Pom still feels like he should ask.

“How do you know it makes people go crazy? Did someone tell you?”

Stelle reaches for a cookie. “Luocha.”

Pom froze. Did he hear that correctly? Luocha? The fake, pretty-boy doctor who was your brother? How does Stelle know about him? Through Caelus or—

"He’s a doctor,” Stelle says.

Finally, Pom takes a deep breath and takes a sip of the tea Stelle prepared moments ago. “How do you know him?”

“He’s my other brother.” Pom chokes on the tea, and he almost drops his cup. Stelle has to quickly take the cup from him and put it on the table. Then, she moves onto the couch he’s sitting on and gives his back a hard pat. “Geez, Pom. Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

His heart can’t any more of these surprises or else he’s going to suffer from a fatal heart attack. After hitting his chest a couple of times, Pom asks, “You have another brother? But”—he vaguely gestures to her hair just her in general—”you look nothing alike!”

“He’s—”

A knock comes at the door, and Stelle gets up to answer it. Pom quickly takes out his phone, eager to tell you and Dan Heng this shocking truth. But as he’s typing, he hears a familiar voice that makes his blood run cold.

“A friend?”

“Yeah,” Stelle answers. “His name’s Pom.”

And that’s when Pom sees Luocha come around the corner with Stelle. 

“Well, what a small world.” The gentle smile on Luocha’s face makes Pom frown.

“You two know each other?” Stelle asks, looking from Pom to Luocha.

"We're acquainted," Luocha says, looking at Pom. “The last time we met… he was suspicious of me.”

Pom shoots Luocha a look to which the doctor returns with a kind smile.

“Suspicious?” Stelle asks. She looks at Pom. “Why?”

Is this what being cornered feels like? Pom puts his phone aside and says, “You were thinking too much.”

When Stelle’s phone goes off, she picks it up from the counter.” Ah, I need to take this. It’s from my manager. Be right back!”

Neither Luocha nor Pom looks at her as she walks off while answering her phone.

As soon as Pom hears a door close, he immediately asks, “What are you doing here? And... how in the world are you related to Stelle and Caelus?" Then, without thinking, “Does that mean they’re also related to Cupid—”

Luocha smiles. “How much do you know about the past, Pom?” Pom looks up and sees Luocha leaning against the counter. “Or is magic the only supernatural phenomenon you believe in?”

“Sounds like you believe in much more than that.”

“I guess my sister hasn’t filled you in.” Luocha pushes himself off the counter. “I’m talking about my half-sister, by the way. Our beloved Cupid.”

Half sister?

“I know about doppelgangers and reincarnations. I also know about a past life where I lived as Cupid’s brother.”

“You referred to her as your half-sister a few seconds ago,” Pom says.

“Because that’s who she is.”

“How are you so sure?”

Luocha walks over, and Pom instinctively gestures for him to stop with his hand. “D-Don’t come any closer.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Pom. I won’t hurt you.”

“Great. Then”—Pom points to a chair that’s a fair distance away—”you can stay all the way over there.”

Luocha almost rolls his eyes. He doesn't listen, however, and sits on the couch adjacent to the one Pom is sitting on. Pom immediately moves to the end of the couch.

“Caelus was the one who told me,” Luocha says.

“...Caelus?”

“Haven’t you heard? Caelus is getting his memories back.”

Oh, Pom’s heard, of course. But nothing about you.

“And you believe him?” Pom asks skeptically.

“Does he have a reason to lie?”

“He's been hostile towards Cupid. I don’t know why, but he might be telling you things to get you to hate her for whatever reason.”

Luocha leans back and crosses one leg over the other. “Let me ask you something, Pom.”

“...What?”

“If something you were supposed to have was ripped away from you… and you found it in the hands of another person who didn’t cherish it, what would you do?”

“Are you saying Cupid stole something from him? She would never do that!”

“Not her,” Luocha says. “Her father. Or… our father.”

A young Caelus awakened to the sound of muffled conversations in the room right outside of his. He looked over his shoulder and saw his younger sister, Stelle, sleeping soundly. So, he quietly slipped out of bed and put his ear to the sliding door to hear whatever conversation was happening on the other side.

“I don’t… I don’t understand what you’re saying.” A woman raising Caelus and Stelle stood in front of two armoured men. “I am not going anywhere with you.”

“It’s the king’s orders.”

“Has he gone mad?” she snapped. Caelus quietly slid the door open a little. "I have a life here. I’m looking after two children—”

One of the men grabbed her arm. “You’d be doing the kingdom a favour.”

“No! I—”

Caelus fully slid the door open. “L-Let her go!”

The woman gasped. “Caelus!” The man let her go, and she rushed to Caelus’s side. “You're supposed to be sleeping.”

“Who are they?” Caelus asked, nervously looking at the men.

She stood in front of them, blocking Caelus's view. “Just visitors.”

The men looked at each other. Then, one of them unsheathed his sword. “If you don’t come with us, we’ll take the kid instead.”

The woman pushed Caelus behind her. “Leave him out of this.”

“...Or, we’ll kill him.”

Caelus’s eyes widened. What was going on? Where would they take him? Why would they kill him? Caelus nervously looked up at her. After a moment, she turned around and crouched to be at eye level with him.

“...Mommy’s going to be gone for tonight, okay? Just… Just for tonight.”

“Where are you going?”

Caelus could feel her trembling when she put her hands on his cheeks. “To visit… the king.”

“Come,” the man said. “We’re leaving.”

Caelus could feel it in his gut. He couldn’t let her go. So, he grabbed onto her sleeve and said, “Please… Don’t go.”

“I promise… I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as her sleeve left his grasp, his heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

“That was the last time he saw her,” Luocha says.

Pom is at a loss for words. He can only stare at Luocha who’s not looking at him but at the coffee table. Finally, Pom asks, “Who... Who was she? Did he know what happened to her? She must have lived another life or—”

"She was their guardian, and... she was murdered." Pom’s eyes widen. Luocha looks at him. “Do you want to know how I know?”

Pom doesn’t have to give him an answer.

Luocha was still processing everything Caelus was telling him in the hospital room when Caelus suddenly stood.

“...Caelus?” Luocha asked cautiously. Caelus’s eyes had clouded over, and he was swaying as if he had too much to drink. When he stepped forward, he stumbled, and Luocha steadied him, not realizing that he’d touched Caelus’s infected hand.

But that was when it happened.

Luocha saw himself sitting with a man dressed in an elegant hanfu. The men were drinking alcohol, and the older man’s face was becoming more and more flushed.

“I’m so proud of you, Luocha,” the king said with a soft laugh. Then, he downed the alcohol from his small glass. “A doctor who's also a king. You’ll be the first.”

“...I have no interest in becoming king, Father,” Luocha said.

The king slammed the glass on the table. “What are you saying, Luocha? You're my only son! If you won't take over the throne, who will?"

“Sister is getting married to Jing Yuan. I’m sure he would make a fine king.”

“Women cannot carry the family name!”

Luocha poured his father more alcohol despite seeing how red his father was getting.

“I’ve heard some interesting… gossip from the maids,” Luocha said cautiously, watching his father for any kind of reaction. “They said I’m not Mother’s son.”

“How…” A sudden laugh. “...What do they know?” The king downed another glass. Luocha poured him more. “How would they know such a thing?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Where did this rumour come from? They said Mother was the one who admitted it.”

That was when he saw it: the darkness in his father’s eyes. Coupled with the smile, he looked almost… demonic.

“How dare she,” the king said between drunken laughter. Then, he looked Luocha in the eyes. “My son…”

“...Yes, Father?”

“I"—a hiccup—"I suppose you’re old enough to know.” Then, his father grabbed Luocha’s hanfu and pulled him closer. “But secrets come with responsibilities.”

“It’s true I wasn’t the queen’s son,” Luocha continues. “They had seven children before Cupid. All of them were girls, but they needed a boy.”

Pom does not like where this is going.

“So, he brought in a concubine.”

“W-Wait a minute,” Pom says. “Was this woman…”

“That’s right. It was the woman looking after Caelus and Stelle.”

“But you said she was murdered…”

Luocha’s gaze hardens. “After she gave birth to me, they killed her. Just like what they did with the other girls that came before Cupid.”

Pom’s head suddenly starts spinning, and when he puts a hand on his forehead and closes his eyes, he hears your voice.

“After they killed them, they burned their bodies.”

You knew. While Pom isn’t sure where this is in the timeline, he’s certain that you knew… because you were the one who told him.

“Is this too much for you, Pom?”

Pom looks up and sees Luocha looking at him. “...Cupid knew. She knew about what her father did.”

“And does she know why she was spared?”

The queen cried loudly with one last push. Two maids, who stood on either side of the queen were holding her hands. The one who delivered the baby was cradling a newborn baby girl.

“It’s a girl.” The woman’s voice broke, and the other two maids glanced at each other with a crestfallen expression.

“Let me see her,” the queen said, reaching out.

As soon as the queen saw you, she smiled with tears falling from her eyes.

Hours later, the queen was on her knees in front of the king. Only one maid was in the room, standing near the king with you in her arms.

“Please,” the queen sobbed as she bowed her head so far that her forehead touched the wooden floor. “Please spare her.”

“Why should I?” the king asked. He glanced at you in the maid’s arms. You were surprisingly quiet for a newborn, unlike the others. "Don't tell me you're feeling guilty."

The queen didn't have an answer. Perhaps the guilt had gotten to her. But she sensed something different about you when she held and looked at you for the first time. 

“We can keep trying,” the queen said, looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. “I just…” Then, she clenched her fists. “There are other options.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I know of a woman… a single woman looking after two children. She lives a very quiet life. No one would know if she were to go missing.”

“...Missing? Why—” That was when it dawned on the king. Then, he laughed darkly. “I never thought you would resort to such measures.” The king stood and looked at you. “If that is your wish… I will spare her.”

“From the beginning, Cupid had a fate worse than death,” Luocha says.

Before Pom can say anything, the migraine and your voice return…

“She regrets it.”

“...Is that why you’re letting her die?”

“...Are you… are you really on our side?” Pom asks. “If what you say is true, they killed your birth mother. Do you… hate Cupid?”

“I have nothing against my sister,” Luocha says. “She is also a victim.”

“Then why are you working with Jing Yuan?” 

Luocha turns to Pom, a stern look in his eyes. “We are not your enemies, Pom. Our worst enemies are ourselves.” When Pom looks away, Luocha continues, “There are still questions I don’t have answers to.”

“You're telling me all of that came back from just one accidental touch?"

"Yes. I don't know why or how, but that was what happened."

Does this mean if Pom also touches Caelus's hand, would his memories also return?

"I wasn't born yet when my father—the one in the present—was infected," Luocha says. "I relied on my mother's diary of the accounts. When he was almost completely paralyzed, he kept telling me of a woman. He started seeing her everywhere as if she was haunting him.”

Was that woman… you, somehow?

“I assumed the disease made him lose his mind as he went on about a past life. But knowing about the locket, meeting Jing Yuan and Cupid and you… I’m convinced.” Pom’s heart begins to race out of anxiety. “The description my father gave back then. It matches her. It matches Cupid.”

“...What happened to your mother?”

“She’s gone.” Luocha exhales sharply. “If Cupid was responsible for The Withering, then she killed more than just my father.”

The silence that follows is loud, almost deafening.

Finally, Pom takes a breath. “After all that, it still doesn’t explain why Caelus hates Cupid. It was her parents who broke apart their family, not her.”

“Call it a hunch, but maybe you can thank Jing Yuan for that.”

◆◆◆

Jing Yuan has just finished a call when he turns his car onto another street. He can’t believe he’s driving halfway across the city for Lan. The god had called him earlier, saying they needed “to talk.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Jing Yuan deadpanned.

“It’s much worse than that.”

For the past ten minutes, Jing Yuan had tried getting in touch with Luocha—but the man wasn’t answering. Eventually, Jing Yuan gave up and turned his focus to getting to the hospital.

When Jing Yuan’s car rolls to a stop at a red light, he looks to the side and sees a young couple walking on the sidewalk. They are holding hands, and they’d smile at each other. Then, when Jing Yuan blinks once, he suddenly sees you… and him.

It was not long after you and Jing Yuan met that your parents volunteered you to show Jing Yuan around the village. When you saw him, you bluntly said, " You’re not going to the village dressed like that.” Your mother had glared at you, and you frowned. “He looks like he’s going to war. We’re going for a walk, not to a battlefield.”

So, that was how Jing Yuan ended up on a casual village walk with you dressed in a black-and-white hanfu.

You’d just finished telling him about some of the shops you passed by when he said, “You’re very knowledgeable.”

“Well, I grew up here. What did you expect, General?"

“You grew up here, sure, but not everyone knows so much about its history. However, you know all about the ins and outs of everything. It’s fascinating.”

"I guess that's one way to look at it." You smiled at him. "You have manners, General."

"I'm offended you'd think otherwise."

"Just accept the compliment before I change my mind."

"For a princess, you sure are... direct."

"What were you expecting?"

"Is this a trick question?" Then, Jing Yuan suddenly took your wrist, making you stop. “Tell me about this place.”

You looked up. “...The noodle shop?” You raised a brow. “Are you interested in learning about its quality ingredients Or would you like me to tell you their secret of staying in business for more than thirty years?”

“Well if you’re willing.”

“...That was sarcasm.”

“Too late.”

Before you could say anything else, he was walking inside with his hand still around your wrist and you beside him.

A loud honk snaps Jing Yuan out of his thoughts. He shifts the gears and drives off, trying to forget whatever he just remembered.

◆◆◆

In an empty area of the hospital, Lan and Dan Heng stand off to the side. You’re sitting on a bench where Lan and Dan Heng can keep an eye on you. You haven’t said much since you left Caelus's room. After Lan had said everyone needed to talk, you had turned to Dan Heng.

“...Sorry,” you said. “I… didn’t mean to hurt him.”

He could see it in your face. It was like you were fighting with something. Dan Heng put his hands on either side of your face.

“Something came back for you,” Dan Heng said. When you looked down, he knew he was right. You put his hands on top of his, and he felt you trembling. “We’ll get through it.”

You looked down, and he wasn’t sure what to make of your silence.

“I had someone look into The Withering,” Lan says, and Dan Heng turns to him. “To conclude, The Withering is the result of black magic. And... it couldn’t have been done alone.”

Nanook had just come out of his quarters with nothing but a towel around his waist when he nearly jumped at the sight of Lan sitting on a chair.

“Who said you could just waltz in here?” Nanook frowned. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“...I need your help.”

Nanook raised a brow. “Are we in danger? Since when does the all-powerful God of the Hunters need my help?”

“It involves Cupid.”

“...Cupid?" Nanook's gaze hardened. "Did something happen to her? Whose ass do I have to beat? Is it Dan—"

“She may have created a curse.”

Nanook’s eyes widened. “...What? Are you messing with me? This is Cupid we’re talking about. Why would she—”

Lan took out a vial with black liquid inside. “I need you to examine this for me.” Nanook walked over and took the vial from him. “It’s a blood sample from an infected human. I can’t match whatever is in it to any curse families I know about.”

“If I help you, you better tell me what’s going on with her.”

“I told him everything,” Lan says. “If I didn’t”—he scoffs—”he’d probably try killing me in my sleep.”

“Why ask Nanook?” Dan Heng asks.

“He’s the God of Destruction. He owns the Grimoire of Black Magic. If there’s anyone who knows something about how The Withering is made, he’s our best chance.”

“...Did he find anything?”

The next time Lan saw Nanook was to get some answer—but Lan was not expecting it to come in the form of a full-blown report.

“It has everything you need to know,” Nanook said. “All the way down to its base components, ingredients, and whatnot.”

“You got all of this from one blood sample?”

“Of course, I also had to do research. Hate to admit it, but the blood sample you gave me did help a lot, though.”

"So, you are useful for something," Lan said, flipping through the notes.

"You're lucky I'm more worried about Cupid than beating your ass right now." Lan looked up and Nanook sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on down here, but are you sure she's the one who created this?”

“Why do you ask?”

“The Withering was created using advanced black magic,” Nanook said. “We're talking top tier." Lan made a gesture for Nanook to get on with his point. "Cupid was human at the time, wasn’t she? There was absolutely no way in hell she could’ve created that.”

A small pause.

“Not on her own.”

Lan narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“Black magic is powerful, but advanced black magic is on another level,” Nanook said. “It requires two or more people, depending on what you’re trying to do. To create something like The Withering, a curse in the disguise of a disease, you need a human and a magical being.”

“...Like who?”

“Anyone who’s not human and knows about advanced magic."

Lan glanced down, and his eyes widened when it dawned on him. When he looked at Nanook, the God of Destruction exhaled sharply.

“Don’t have any proof, but the rabbit's lookin' a little suspicious."

Upon making eye contact with Dan Heng, Lan also knows he’s thinking of the same person.

“...Do you know something, Dan Heng?”

“Pom… he said he remembered being a shapeshifter. A shaman… he helped Young put a protection spell on the pendant to keep Cupid safe from Jing Yuan.”

Lan leans against the wall. “A shapeshifter…”

“Were there others like Pom?”

“You wouldn’t know someone is a shapeshifter unless they told you. They were common in folklore, but I’ve never met one before.” Lan looks down as if deep in thought. “If he did help Cupid create The Withering, it would explain why he’s on The Astral Express.”

“...The Astral Express?”

Before Lan can say anything more, the men see you standing, staring straight ahead. When Dan Heng looks in the direction you’re looking at, he sees Jing Yuan who has just reached the top of the stairs.

“Is it just me, or is the atmosphere awfully dreary?”

When Dan Heng is by your side, he notices you’re slightly shaking as Jing Yuan walks toward you. Then, when Jing Yuan is in front of you, he leans down.

“We meet again, Sweet—”

His eyes widen when you swiftly grab his neck without warning—but what frightens him isn’t that you’re choking him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even blink. He’s forced to look at you as he suddenly feels a searing pain in his stomach.

“...How does it feel?”

He hears your voice but your lips never moved. His mouth opens but no words would come. Instead, when he finally looks down, he sees himself bleeding from a gaping wound in his stomach. Another voice comes, but this time it’s his own.

“I did it... so you'd never forget me. Hate runs deep, deeper than love."

Jing Yuan falls to the ground, still reeling at whatever it was he just experienced. It felt so real. The metal through his stomach. The blood from his wounds. Then, when he looks up, he sees you and Dan Heng; the murderous look in your eyes Jing Yuan saw moments ago disappeared.

This time, he's sure this feeling is real.

Because looking at you and Dan Heng, it feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest. And the worst part is Jing Yuan has no idea why.

Chapter 17

End notes: I was not expecting Jing Yuan to have such a big role in this story, lol. But through his back story, you will gradually learn about everyone else's, including more about you and Young. This is just the surface, fellas LOL more to come...

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @tanspostsblog @theprinceofkhaos @nqctre @lunavixia @akwardbiscuit @kplatzman @sunsethw4 @hiqhkey @n8mareee

[avenirdelight]

Weird Life

Son Heungmin

Sonny is dating a famous singer. After his national team got knocked out from the world cup, she posts pictures on Instagram that hints they’re dating. [Requested]

She couldn’t hit the right note. The emotion also wasn’t quite there. She had been trying to record the same bridge over and over again. The bridge was her most favourite part of a song, the most special for her personally. So if her vocals hadn’t reached the perfection that she wanted for it, she wouldn’t move on to the next parts.

“James, my love, I don’t think I can do this now,” she said, letting out a long and heavy sigh. She rubbed her eyes before looking at James, her vocal director, through the glass screen. Poppy, her personal assistant, Cindy, her producer, and Max, her recording engineer were all staring at her. Their eyes showed that they were all getting worried and nervous.

“Sweetheart, we really have to finish this song today,” James said. “Listen, if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you, I’d gladly do it. If there’s anything I can get you—”

“Just get me my boyfriend,” she cried. “Do we know where he is? Pop, has he landed? Do we have any updates?”

“Not yet, honey. Hey, do you know what? I think we should take a little break.”

Five minutes later, she and Poppy were on the rooftop. She stood near the railings, looking down the busy street, resting both hands on her waist as she took deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm.

“I’ve made a terrible decision, haven’t I?” She asked. “What are they saying, Pop? The fans?”

“You’ve turned off your phone because you don’t want to see anything but now you’re asking me?”

She glanced at Poppy with a little pout. “I can’t get it out of my head. Yeah, I know, I should’ve known better.”

Poppy sighed and scrolled on her phone. Her eyes scanned the tweets from the topic that had been trending for the past two hours. “Son Heung Min Dating” was the keyword.

“‘So the rumours were all true??’, ‘I knew it! The matching bracelet wasn’t a coincidence!’, ‘Remember when she was suddenly in London back in February? She must’ve been visiting Sonny’.” Poppy read a few of the comments. She was reading it casually but she suddenly let out a little gasp. “Look what they’ve figured out! Sonny’s flight! They know he’s coming to Los Angeles.”

“Right. And why would Son Heungmin suddenly fly to Los Angeles? Oh! Guess who else is in Los Angeles? Me!” She said animatedly, flailing her hands around, a sign that she was very stressed out. “They’ve figured that out too, haven’t they?”

“Yeah… Someone spotted you at the airport two days ago, there’s pictures. And they’ve connected the dots.”

She sighed. “God, I’m so stupid,” she said, rubbing her her fingers on her temples. “It was supposed to be just a hint, not a total reveal. Or maybe we shouldn’t have done this at all.”

She had posted some photos on Instagram from her trip to South Korea back in July. Sonny was in almost every picture. His blurry back, a little part of his shoulder, a bit of his arm, but not his face. She’d posted it this morning, just five days after Korea’s campaign in the world cup ended. The caption was a simple “Throwback” with a South Korean flag.

Without a doubt, the post blew up because both Sonny’s and her fans were coming up with their own theories about them dating, that they had been developing for a whole year. It was actually the plan, to slowly reveal their relationship to the public, but it turned out that no matter how much she’d prepared herself for it, it didn’t make it any easier.

“We have planned everything out. Come on, it’s okay, we can handle this. It’s under control,” Poppy tried to reassure her. 

She let out another long, exasperated sigh. “Just please get me my boyfriend, Poppy…”

—

When Sonny arrived almost three hours later, she couldn’t even react. She was slumped on the couch in the studio, covering herself with a warm blanket. She had been just sitting and listening to the song blazing in the room, with vocals that she’d recorded so far that sounded absolutely awful to her. It felt like all her energy was drained out from the stress. But Sonny came in with a smile on his face. He said ‘hi’, reached for her hand, and gently helped her to get up so he could give her the biggest warm hug.

“Have you been seeing everything?” She didn’t even return his greeting or ask about how he was doing. Her mind had gotten too clouded.

“Kevin told me some stuff,” Sonny answered as he soothingly caressed her back. “Everything is fine. We are prepared, our teams are prepared. There’s nothing to worry about.” Poppy and Kevin, Sonny’s assistant, had had a call earlier. Poppy had probably told Kevin about her messy state, the reason why Sonny went straight to the point.

“James, can you please turn the music down? Thanks,” she said to James before getting back to Sonny. “So– We’re still going with the plan? We’re still gonna make the official announcement?”

“Yes, we’re going with the plan,” Sonny said, loosening his arms and letting her go so he could take a look at her face. The stress and worry were still all over her face.

She slightly shook her head as her panicked eyes wandered everywhere. “People are gonna say that this is all just PR. They’ll say I need a boost for my new song and you— I don’t know, maybe they’ll say that you’re riding the world cup wave or something, seeking for more popularity, and—”

“Hey, look at me.” Sonny cut her off, holding her face with his hand, trying to get her to look at him and luckily, he succeeded. “People can say whatever they want. They can say it’s PR, but they will be proven wrong when we get married next year.”

She fell silent as she bit her lower lip. Memories flashed in her mind from those talks they had had. It had started with just her and Sonny, then their families joined in, then Poppy and Kevin joined in, then her label and Sonny’s agent joined in. Both her and Sonny were popular figures in their own world, so it took a lot just to make an announcement about them dating.

“Listen. If you’re not ready—”

“No, no, I am.” She cut him off, shrugging. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I feel like we’ve chosen the wrong timing. Maybe we should’ve waited for another week.”

“It’s okay. We get this done before Premier League starts, before you start filming, then we can carry on. I promise we’ll be fine. Okay?”

She nodded and tip-toed on her feet to steal a kiss. Sonny wrapped his arms around her tight as he kissed her back.

“How are you feeling? I’m sorry the journey ended here for you guys,” she said.

“We did our best. I feel better now that I’m with you,” Sonny answered with his infectious smile plastered on his face.  

“I’m so proud of you.” She gave him a smile, running a hand through his hair.

“Thank you. Now how about we finish the song, yeah?”

—

She finished the song with ease. Partly because she was more collected and less worried, but mostly because her muse was there, watching and supporting her. Less than an hour and she was out of the booth; she finished all the parts, along with the ad-libs and all the layers.

The proud look on Sonny’s face didn’t go unnoticed. He pulled her into a hug and patted her head, saying, “That was amazing. You did really well.”

“Thank you. Do you like the song?”

“I think it might be my new favourite.”

“You heard it, guys. The muse approved!” She grinned at Sonny, before turning around and shifting her gaze back and forth between James and Cindy. “All good, yeah? Can we wrap this up? Can I have my two days-off now?”

Everyone agreed that they could wrap up the recording session and she wasted no time on leaving the studio. She hopped on the backseat of the car with Sonny, and Nolan, her driver, drove them to the hotel that they would stay in for the next two days.

Their hands were linked. She rested her head on his shoulder as he looked out the window, watching life happening on Los Angeles’ streets. She, once in a while, looked up to get a glimpse of his face.

She knew that Sonny was jet-lagged and tired. He had flown to two different countries in the past few days. Make it three when he flies back to London in three days. Between his packed schedule, he still made an effort to see her since she wouldn’t go home for another two weeks; a couple of weeks ago it was her who had flown to Qatar to see him. It wasn’t always like this, they weren’t always insanely busy and were in different time-zones. But sometimes it did take a lot to make their relationship work, so every time they had a chance, they would always try to make the best out of it.

“What a weird life that we have…” She mumbled. It was enough to get Sonny’s attention.

“I think it’s a blessing,” he commented. “I mean, I wouldn’t even have met you if I wasn’t an international footballer.”

She giggled, sitting up so she could take a good look at his face. “Yeah. Wouldn’t have met you if I was back home helping my mum run her tea shop… You’re right. We’re living our dreams.”

Sonny stared at her in silence with a fond gaze. They’d been dating for four years, but Sonny still could make her heart skip a beat with no effort. Without saying any words, he leaned in to capture her lips, sending the butterflies in her stomach flying, also with absolutely no effort.

“Hey,” he said when he found her eyes again.

“Hmm?”

“From the very beginning, we know nothing is gonna be easy. But we’ve made it this far. We’re a good team, you know? We just always need to be a good team. And I’ll always try to be a good teammate for you.”

Her lips perked into a small smile. “I know.” She nodded and Sonny smiled back. She rested her head back on his shoulder as she felt Sonny’s thumb caressing her hand.

It was indeed a weird life that they were living. Dating in public? Casually announcing their relationship to friends and family? It didn’t work like that for them. Privacy was a luxurious thing but they couldn’t even complain because they were incredibly privileged to even have this weird life.

But she was grateful that she had Sonny. Someone who understood, someone who was willing to do more, someone that she could hold on to when life got a little bit too insane. Life could take the craziest turns but she knew that in the end everything was gonna be fine, because she had her teammate. And he would always be there, holding her hand and walking beside her, to the future that they dream together.

—

sometimes i feel like i put in too much details and that’s why sometimes it takes forever for me to finish a fic, but people tell me that it’s what they love about my fics. i think it’s not the first time i mention this but yeah, i’m in a dilemma.

i enjoyed writing this one🥺 this might be my new favourite! thank you for everyone who had been reading and requesting sonny fics during this world cup! the demand was high!😆 hope you enjoyed it<3

My Masterlist🤍

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 15. Frosty Glass

Pairing: Gruber x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Small village in the English countryside

Continuation of: 14. Icy Roads

A/N: So yesterday Anna-Louise and Hans met for the first time, both seemingly instantly connecting on some other level. So, let’s see what happens today between plastic santas and a sassy old lady, shall we? 🥰💚

+A/N: AND IT'S ANOTHER BLOODY LONG ONE - WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?! 😭👍 I was hoping to have everything written for the prompts up until nr.19 today since my dad is coming over to celebrate Christmas this weekend but here I am, just having finished this one... I am terrible at containing myself and it's biting me in the ass right now 😂

Tags/TW’s: Dysfunctional Family, Self-worth Struggle, Repressed Emotions, Abandonment Issues, Hand Holding, Forehead Kisses, Fluffy Feels, Finding One’s Courage

Word Count: 4.7k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

“Lulu! There’s no cookies!” dad shouted from the kitchen while I tried to dress the tree and keep sis’s blasted cat out of it simultaneously. Ferdinand was a menace on his best days, Christmas always turned into a blood bath, my hands and arms scratched up from chasing him out of the tree, out of the curtains, away from the presents — it was never-ending.

“Coming!” “Get the minty ones!” he shouted while I tried to hang the tinsel without Ferdinand getting the other end of it. “Sure thing, dad!” “Not those peppermint ones! The minty ones! The green ones!” “Oh my god,” I sighed under my breath. “Yes, dad! I KNOW!” “Oy! Don’t you take that tone with me, lassie!” “Why can’t you go your bloody self for once?” I muttered under my breath while stepping down from the stool.

Mum would have liked this tree, I thought with a smile of relief and pride. “Quite gorgeous if I do say so-, FERDINAND! NO!” The cat was already halfway up the tree, swatting at the tinsel before I could grab him. The cat shrieked and hissed, sinking their claws into my hands repeatedly. “Bloody hell, stupid cat!” Ugh, it’s not your fault but sod off, kitty!

I sat him down on the couch, knowing full well the second I’d leave the room he would be right back up in the tree. “Feral thing,” I hissed and he looked at me with those big eyes that I just couldn’t stay mad at even if my hands stung and were spotted with tiny droplets of blood from his sharp claws.

I washed my hands and grabbed my coat, hearing Ferdinand in the tree before I went out the door just as sis called my name in that tone that could only ever mean she wanted something from me. I didn’t stick around to find out what.

The afternoon was clear and bright despite the clouds hanging low in the sky. The wind had died down at lunch and it hadn’t snowed since last night. So, truthfully, it wasn’t so bad to be out of the house — even if it were on yet another errand for someone else who was too lazy to go themselves. Doesn’t matter, the weather is good, there’s not much people and there’s salt and gravel on the sidewalk so no slipping about today.

I didn’t dare think more of it as Hans had been on my mind nearly constantly since I had basically bolted away from him. Not even affording the man a chance to say goodbye as the conversation had hit too close to home when he asked such a direct question about my own perception of myself, my value. Are all Germans so direct and blunt?

I opened the door to the little café on the main street of the little village I was forced to call home and stomped off the snow from my boots. The space was decorated to the nines with all things tasteless. From the askew garlands to the tacky plastic Santas and elves dotting the surfaces of the room. Just like every year, it gets progressively worse.

“Oh, Anna-Louise!” I turned only to smile kindly at the little lady with a hunched back and a fat little dog by her feet. She was a sweet thing, hard of hearing and brutally honest but kind, to me at least. “Martha, how lovely to see you,” I said while she stepped up with short, slow steps to me. “Oh, don’t be daft, nobody likes me,” she said but I laughed for I actually did — even if she scared the children and swatted at peoples’ legs with her cane when they were in her way. She had taken care of me when nobody else did. When the house was empty and I was all alone at too young of an age she’d dragged me to her house and stuffed me with the saltiest treats and teeth-breaking cookies burned to a crisp.

“Now, when are you leaving?” she asked, peering up at me without being able to straighten her back, her hat askew and her teeth anywhere but in her mouth, as usual. Nothing changes here. “Martha, please,” I said with a smile as I bent down to scratch the fat dog under its chin — mostly to alleviate the strain on Martha’s neck from having to look up at me though. “You know I’m not leaving, I have nowhere to go, and nobody who cares.” “Humph, that’s hogwash and you know it, lassie! Your mum would have been pissed like a babe eating a sour lemon to see you stay around here with that brain of yours. You should be out there, exploring the world,” Martha said and began to throw around her cane to indicate the great big world.

“You know I can’t—” “That cane will cause harm eventually, waving it about in such a way, lady.” My body stiffened, my hand stopped scratching the dog as the dark German accent interrupted my sentence and Martha slammed down her cane by my foot with a loud thud. Hans…

I rose as quickly as I could. “Hans?” I asked while turning around and there he stood, all well-dressed and straight-backed. “Anna-Louise,” he said with a short nod and a warm smile. “Now here we have a fine man!” Martha exclaimed and I blanched for a second before whipping my head around. “Martha, you can’t say things like that!” I hissed, feeling my entire face burn. “What? Nobody ever uses that pretty name of yours anymore, always saying Lulu this and Lulu that. And look at him,” she kept going while pointing with her crocked finger blemished from old age, “he’s right off handsome, dressing as the men used to when I was a lassie.” “Martha, shush,” I tried with to silence her but Hans merely chuckled behind me. “Why, thank you, most kind of you, my lady,” he said in a charming manner that somehow felt quite false to me. He didn’t sound like that yesterday.

But Martha gobbled up the words with a chuckle before moving closer to the German man who'd saved my life yesterday while I was at a loss for what to do with the old lady and her daft behaviour. “You know my Anna-Louise?” she asked. “She’s yours?” he asked in return. “Well, her sleaze of a father ain’t much to hang in the tree, her good-for-nothing sister nothing but trouble and her mother—” “MARTHA. That’s enough,” I interrupted and the old lady tutted at me.

“Anywho, she’s my responsibility, so who are you?” “Hans Gruber, at your service, my lady.” He clicked his heels and bowed ever so slightly and still I felt as if it wasn’t quite him, yet he was bloody charming with his wide smile and friendly manner. There was just something wrong with it.

“German, eh? Love Germany, went with my husband back in the day, before the whole war thing, of course. Bloody waste of—” “Martha, for god’s sake, stop,” I sighed as the lady was about to set off on her usual campaign about how war was worthless, how her family raised bunnies to eat, how her husband was taken by it and all that stuff — stuff everyone already knew, agreed about or felt the same way about. There was absolutely no bloody reason to bring up world war two in the little café with its twinkling lights and the delicious smell of freshly baked treats.

Hans seemed unaffected though. “Shall I hold the door for you, my lady?” he asked with a wink in my direction and my shoulders slumped. Martha seemed delighted at the chivalry so uncommon in the poor village with too many dodgy people loitering about. “A gentleman, that’s proper behaviour!” Martha said and smiled her toothless grin up at him before moving towards the door that Hans opened for her. “Bye Martha! Remember to put your teeth in before you eat!” I called, a bit too loud perhaps, but the old lady really had bad hearing. She just waved me off though, too busy getting her wobbling dog out the door while looking at Hans.

I took the chance to get to the counter. But I had barely found the right minty cookies before Hans appeared next to me. “Lively lady,” he said with a chuckle and I smiled up at him in apology. “She’s quite the rascal, really, but she’s sweet. Just need to watch out for the cane, and have lots of patience, but she’s not bad,” I said before clamping my mouth shut. “I can imagine,” Hans simply said with a much warmer smile, a genuine feel to him now.

“Here for the treats?” I asked while turning back to see if there were any blueberry muffins left even if I couldn’t afford them. “Ah, no, actually,” he said and I glanced up at him. “You do know this is a café, right? Treats are kinda what they do here.” “Well, yes,” he chuckled, “but I saw you through the window, schnuki.” “Oh,” I said, not knowing what to make of it but feeling the strangest of giddy feelings at the way he looked a bit nervous.

“But, now that I am here, what do you recommend?” “Hmm, well, that depends on what you like. They have a lot of good stuff and the owner is really nice too, he bakes amazing bread too. The coffee is fresh as well, if you like coffee. I’m quite dependent on it,” I smiled while blabbering on. Unable to stop. Feeling as if there were butterflies in my stomach when he stood so close and offered me his full attention. “What are you having?” “Oh, nothing, I’m just getting some cookies for my dad, he ran out.” “So, out on another errand for someone else again?” I laughed nervously at that before biting my lip and turning away, not wanting to show that he’d hit the nail on the head once more.

“Why not get something while you are here? Tell me what you want the most?” “We aren’t all Oxford owners, you know.” “Oxford owners?” he asked, and my shoulders crept towards my ears — embarrassed about the muttering tone of my voice. “We can’t all afford treats,” I clarified in a low voice. “Schnuki,” he said and stepped a little closer, “I can afford to treat you. So, what do you want to have?”

I looked up at him, seeing him so close had my heart in a revolt of the warmest kind. “You really don’t—” “I can afford Oxfords,” he said matter-of-factly, putting an end to the debate. “Blueberry muffin,” I said, almost stunned at my own words -- short and to the point for once. There was no need to blabber much more as Hans actually listened to me, it felt a bit strange, honestly. “That’s your preference?” “My favourite.” “Well then, let’s get one each and some coffee.” I nodded at him, not knowing what to do when he was so kind, and giving. I wasn’t used to it. Everyone in the village had to hold on tight to their money, some more than others and my family was definitely part of that group. Or, I was at least, dad doing whatever he wished and my sis getting her way most of the time — with him or boys in general.

≪⁕≫

Hans hummed as he took the first bite of his muffin. “It’s good, right?” I asked with a small smile while tugging off my gloves to take my own muffin. “Really deli—” His eyes widened as I reached for my muffin and before I knew it my hands were in his. “What happened to your hands?” he asked while the warmth of his skin spread across my chilly hands with a wave of warmth rising within me. I couldn’t get my brain to even think a thought when he touched me, skin on skin.

“Schnuki? What happened? Why are you harmed?” I shook my head, blinking away the daze. “Oh, Ferdinand swatted at me, I’m fine though. He’s just—” “He? Who? Who is Ferdinand?” he gritted out, his blue eyes harsh. “Oh, my sis’s cat, he’s such a rascal because she never tamed him properly and I was doing the tree and he was trying to get the tinsel and climb it so I had to grab him and-, sorry, I’m blabbering… But I’m fine,” I said with a nervous smile as my hands kept tingling while he held them.

“Your hands should never look like this. Why did your sister not deal with her beast?” “Hans,” I laughed while he inspected my hands anew, “he’s no beast, he’s just a bit of a feral kitty.” “Still, this looks painful.” “I’m used to—” “This happens often?” “Well, yeah, I have to deal with him since sis doesn’t. She just thought he looked cute as a baby kitten, and dad hates Ferdinand, but he’s obsessed with making my sis happy so the cat would die if I didn’t care for it as much as possible. He doesn’t like me very much though, he’s a cat so he doesn’t understand who cleans his litterbox and makes sure there’s cat food and treats and clean water every day and all that. And he hates it when I bathe him, that’s a bloody war each time but he has sensitive skin so he needs baths with a special shampoo and-, oh, I’m blabbering again, I’m so sorry, I talk too much, all the time,” I said and finally managed to shut my mouth while my nerves were tied up in knots.

Through it all Hans still held my hands, his eyes apparently never leaving my face while my eyes bounced all over. He was too handsome and when he gave me his undivided attention I could barely hold myself together. So much in me was ready to burst out but he was a stranger I’d only met twice.

“Your family sounds quite terrible, quite selfish,” he said quietly and I laughed nervously, his words being too accurate. Again. “It’s not a laughing matter, why do you let them treat you this way?” “What else am I supposed to do? They’re my family,” I said and he finally (regrettably) released my hands while leaning back, looking at me intently. “Leave? You’re an adult.” “Yeah but I don’t have anyone and I can’t just leave, where am I supposed to go? I’ve never been further than London.” “You don’t need anyone, schnuki. You’re capable and more than able to stand on your own two feet.”

I glanced at him while wrapping my hands around the coffee cup, seeping up the warmth it offered my cold palms. “You don’t know me, Hans,” I whispered, feeling defeated when he had such faith in me. The last person who ever had faith in me was my mother and there was no faith to be had there anymore. “I don’t need to know you, it’s enough to look at you and talk with you a bit.” “Fine, be that as it may, I don’t want to be alone out there. The world is too big, too cruel and harsh. I’d break down in a puddle of anxiety. No, I’m better off here.” “Yet you’re not.” “I didn’t realise the muffin came with a therapy session,” I chuckled while I did my damnedest to restrain the tears wanting to well up. He was so genuine in his words, it just touched something within me — not to mention how he watched me, what it felt like to be near him and the strong sensation of care he radiated.

“I’ve offended you,” he said. “I’m sorry, schnuki.” “No, no you haven’t, I just-, it’s not so simple.” “What if I make it simple?”

I looked up at him, my muffin still untouched on the table and he had gotten comfortable in the booth. Something about the way he spoke those last words had my full attention. Something lingered in the air around him and it felt… honest.

“How would you do that?” I asked, leaning my elbows on the table to not crumble under his heavy gaze. He smiled slyly yet it was done in a comforting, alluring manner. The man had some unexplainable charm, not to mention he was easily the hottest man I had ever seen — not that I had ever been very attracted to anyone I’d ever met before. But his looks were so singular and it felt as if he held himself with a certain pride that had nothing to do with vanity. “Come with me,” he said, no faltering or humour in his voice while I blinked rapidly at him.

I burst out laughing, turning a few heads at the loud noise. “Oh yeah, let me just go with the stranger I met only yesterday, that’s a brilliant idea,” I laughed but he didn’t join in. He remained quiet, serious. “You’re joking, right?” “No.” “You’re being serious?” “Yes,” he nodded while his smile crept back for a second.

I leaned back, my mouth agape and my brain stunned. “You do know that’s like how to not get kidnapped one-o-one, do not go anywhere with strangers. Especially as a woman, and even more so when the stranger is a man.” “So that’s what we are, schnuki? Strangers? Just a man and a woman?” “Well, yes! We just met yesterday!” “Yet I’ve been unable to stop thinking about you.” And I you… This is madness!

My heart was running amok, my brain malfunctioning, and there was some idiotic part of me that simply wanted to say yes. Say ‘take me away from here and never stop looking at me like you are doing right now’ kind of thing that was wholly foolish and a thousand times idiotic.

“I don’t know you, Hans,” I said, even if there was some part of me that for whatever reason had faith in the man. That I wouldn’t come to harm, that I wouldn’t be abandoned again, or treated like some slave in my own home. Hans was… different. “And I don’t know you, Anna-Louise. Yet still, I feel as if I know who you are, what you are supposed to be.” “Nobody knows that,” I sighed, grabbing my coffee anew and drinking a large gulp despite the hot liquid burning my tongue.

“If nobody knows, then that includes you, no?” he asked while I sat the cup down. My eyes lingered on the blueberry muffin. “I guess, that’s almost fair to say. I don’t think anybody really knows who they are or what they are supposed to be.” “Then why not trust in someone else to see something more in oneself?”

I had no answer to that.

“Schnuki,” he said while his hand reached out and took mine gently, his thumb stroking over my knuckles softly. “Why do you call me that? What does it even mean?” I asked and looked up at him, his face soft while his eyes hooked mine. “I’m leaving at nine, taking the train north,” he said and avoided my questions entirely. “If you change your mind and decide you’d like to see the world with me, I’ll be waiting until the very last second, schnuki…”

He release my hand, stroked my jawline gently, and stood. My eyes followed his face all the way up while everything in my body screamed for me to take his hand and walk right out of the café by his side. That my life was going to walk right out with him and I’d never live another day as anything more than Lulu when I could be schnuki, whatever the hell that means. It can’t be worse than losing my name because it takes too much energy to say it, to be of so little value not even my name worth saying in its entirety… But he says it.

Hans walked around the edge of the table, pulling on his black gloves and adjusting the scarf around his neck while my body tensed. He was handsome, elegant, different and alluring in a way I’d never experienced before. “Schnuki,” he said and leaned forward, kissing my forehead gently. Yet, there was resolve and some touchable feeling of longing I couldn’t quite place seeping from his lips against my skin. “If we never met again, know that you are worth more than you think,” he said against my forehead and straightened to his full height.

The sound of the door closing jolted me. I turned to look out through the window, wanting to see him one last time only to find him standing there on the other side with a warm smile that was slightly blurry through the glass covered in frost. He just stood there, watching me for a long moment while my body appeared frozen in place, unable to run after him because of the fear yet unable to get my heart to understand that he wasn’t going to stay.

He took off his glove and drew the tip of his finger against the glass, melting the frost with his body heat while writing something. My eyes were too occupied with the view of his handsome face to fully register what he was doing though. And then he looked at me again, smiling softly with sincerity in those clear eyes. My heart pounded, my ribs hurt from the beating — or perhaps from the knowledge it held that my brain couldn’t comprehend.

One second he was there, and then he was gone. It took me a moment to realise I was staring out the window at absolutely nothing, then I bolted outside. “HANS!” I called over the sound of passing cars and laughing pedestrians. But he wasn’t there. My entire body slumped and a cold sense of dread crept in as I looked around the main street — all the shops and buildings engraved in my mind, every stone housing a memory I wished to forget or a feeling I never wished to experience again. All around me lay everything I had always wanted to escape from, yet had been tied to so fiercely I failed when the opportunity was given. Because I was afraid, taught to think of myself as something small and worthless to the world.

I hugged myself and turned only to catch my reflection in the frosty glass. My eyes had smiled yesterday when I looked in the mirror while brushing my teeth, because he had been on my mind. Now, they were back to their normal state, closed off and vacant. I drew a deep breath and tried to find it in me to turn around and go home.

‘Sweetie’ it said on the window. Where Hans had been writing with his finger, the word sweetie was left behind and I couldn’t understand why such a childishly cute nickname damn near hurt every fibre of my body. Yes, you do, you know, Anna-Louise. You know why it hurt. You bloody well know! I screamed at myself in my head while I grabbed at the fabric covering my chest.

I had been nothing but unwanted, found to be a blabbering nuisance that could never do enough or be enough. The only thing I ever did enough of was talking, but what point is there to talking when nobody ever listens? I talk all the time because-, because no matter what I say or how many times I say it nobody hears me anyway… Nobody listens. I could say I’d off myself and nobody would bat an eye, they wouldn’t have heard me…

I wiped at my cheeks, the tears coming even if I didn’t want them to. My throat closed up as my fingers touched the glass where his finger had been, my other hand covering my mouth to silence the crying I didn’t want to let out. It felt as if years upon years of suppressed hurt, caged anger and hidden fear were trying to crawl their way into the light. It was so easy to hide it away, pretend it wasn’t there when nobody ever cared to see, to listen, to remind me of the fact that I deserved more. That I didn’t deserve to feel like I always did, to hide away and blabber myself into oblivion in the hope that maybe someone would see me, hear me…

I withdrew my hand, wrapping it around my aching stomach while clamping down my hand even harder on my mouth as my tears rolled despite my wish for them to stay hidden while my legs began to tremble beneath me. Did mum feel like this when she left? Was I not enough even for her to-, to bring me with her… It was the thought I never allowed myself to think.

“It can’t end like this. I can’t end up like this. There-, there has to be more to life than-, than-, than this,” I whispered against my palm while the tears chilled my face in the icy English winter. I’ll go. I’ll go and I won’t look back no matter what happens. I can’t-, I can’t live like this. And I… A gasp escaped me as my eyes lingered on the word ‘sweetie’, I feel something significant for him. There’s more to him, us, than just… strangers. There’s more.

≪⁕≫

I ran. My bag thudded against my thigh. They didn’t even notice. They won’t notice until there’s nobody there to do it all. And I won’t! I won’t be there anymore for them!

I panted as the station came into view, the large clock at the entrance standing at 08.56 pm. My heart ached and fluttered, my legs were drained and stiff while the wind clawed at my cheeks. He’ll be there, he has to be there, I chanted over and over in my head to keep the tears at bay.

I was leaving. I wasn’t coming back. I was running away. Running towards something. Someone.

“Please, be, there,” I panted. My breath turned to fog and I slowed down, unable to breathe without a burning sensation erupting in my throat from the cold air being inhaled too swiftly. I slowed down, feeling the nerves erupt and the fear of the unknown tried to make me turn around. But I couldn’t. The thought of him, of Hans, waiting for me with that longing in his eyes that saw me. The man who was happy when I blabbered after having been so quiet at the beginning. ‘She speaks’ he had said with warmth and I could not imagine ever forgetting those words.

I walked through the station house, my naked hands red and raw from the cold while I grasped at the strap of the duffel bag. He’ll be there. He’ll be waiting. He’ll absolutely be there. Right..? “I’ve lost my mind. I’m leaving with a stranger who calls me sch-nuky,” and I can’t even say it right… What am I—

There he was. Waiting on the platform. His entire body tense and stiff. But he was waiting. He was there.

It felt as if I could breathe again. My shoulders sank and an involuntary smile stretched my lips wide at the sight of him. I remained utterly still for a moment as I took him in, took in the fact that he was waiting for me while the train lay idle in wait for its departure time.

“H-Hans,” I whispered, my voice shaking. There was no chance he could have heard me from so far away, yet he straightened and looked around. His eyes found me nearly instantly and his entire body softened. A smile of his own spread across those thin lips framed by his perfectly groomed beard.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t get my legs to take me to him. Stunned that it was all happening. Surprised at the absolute joy in my heart at seeing him again. Transfixed by the shift in his eyes as he looked me over, his gaze snagging on my bag for a second before he began walking towards me. My fingers squeezed the strap harder as he drew closer, my throat closing up.

“Schnuki,” he exhaled a step away from me and then I was in his arms. “You came,” he murmured, as if he struggled for words as well. My arms came around him and I buried my cold face in his chest and shoulder. “I did.” “Anna-Louise…” he exhaled and kissed the side of my head. “We’ll see the world together, my sweet treat,” he continued after that and I couldn’t imagine I would ever have found the courage to leave the misery behind if it weren’t for the stranger who I’d so foolishly swiftly fallen head over heels for.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

A/N: I love these two… Like, I love the way this is so held back yet obvious at the same time. They are so darn cute together and I can’t help but wonder how Anna-Louise would react to finding out who she’s actually left everything for… 😬 What do you think? Would they be able to get through that when they are so new to each other 🤔 I have no idea, maybe?

Either way, I hope you enjoyed this and that you found some delight in the cuteness 🙈🥰💚

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie@setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @snowblossomreads @leah1243 @reinekefoxart @reiketsunomizunomegami @lokisbjchn

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[Dec:2022]

[reidskitty13]

Isolated Together

Previously posted on ao3.

Summary:

For the first time in her life she has kept a secret, but to be fair she was no longer work with profilers 24/7 so her chances of spilling the beans were at a minimum. Really though she would have gotten away with keeping the secret if it wasn’t for those pesky profilers.

💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻💻

For the first time in her life she has kept a secret, but to be fair she was no longer work with profilers 24/7 so her chances of spilling the beans were at a minimum. Really though she would have gotten away with keeping the secret if it wasn’t for those pesky profilers.

“Tara why don’t you call Luke and see if he’s well enough to look at these files” It was a simple question. One Luke wouldn’t have thought would be his down fall.

The phone rings a couple of times before Lewis switches tactics and FaceTimes

“Hey Luke do you have a few minutes to look at this file.” Luke takes a few mintues to carefully get out the bed and head out the room, “Sure let me get my laptop.”

The line is quiet as Luke shuffles around the apartment until

“Did you move?”

“What?

“I’ve been to your place and that’s not it? Before anyone can say anything else Luke sees Emily come into the frame asking Tara if he had a chance to look at the files yet.

“No, but why don’t I open that file now.” In his desperation to switch topics he forgot the fact Emily would definitely know this wasn’t his home.

“Emily, doesn’t Luke’s house look different?”

“I promise you Tara I haven’t moved.”

“Who hasn’t moved?…Ohh hey Luke are you in” But Spencer doesn’t get to finish his sentence as a soft meow can be heard that goes ignored over Luke’s instance to look over the files.

“How about we go back to the reason you guys are bothering me? The files.”

MEOW.

“Was that a cat?” Emily takes Tara’s phone and holds it in front of her face upon further inspection she realizes yes its a cat a very familiar cat.

“Sergio? Luke why is my cat in your house?”

“Technically Emily you gave Sergio to Penelope” Reid interjects it was in that moment Tara, Emily and Spencer connected the dots.

“OMG are you in Penelope’s apartment.” Tara shrikes loud enough to catch the attention of JJ, Rossi and Matt.

“I came by to check on her…she has COVID.”

“So do you Luke, you’re telling me you left your house and came to check on Penelope while sick.”

“Yes”

“And you brought your work phone and computer with you?” Tara continues to interrogate.

“Yes…Look whatever you think this is it isn’t I’m just” Penelope was going to kill him.

“Luke why’d you leave the bed.” It’s at this moment Luke knows there is no use in protesting.

“Penelope”

“The whole point of being sick you know is to not do any work.”

“Penelope.”

“Seriously I’m going to have a serious talk with Emily about making her sick employees work.” Luke frantically points to his phone where he can hear the laughter coming from his coworkers. Penelope’s face turns red and she’s not sure how she should be handling this situation.

“Your displeasure is noted Garcia.” Emily stares at Penelope with a smirk before holding her hand out. The gesture confuses Penelope until she sees the team place dollars bills into her waiting hand.

“Dang it Emily how do you always win these bets.” Spencer whines.

“If you just wanted time off to spend with PG that’s all you needed to say Luke.” JJ states while failing to keep her laughter in.

“You know what I don’t work for you anymore and for the next fourteen days neither does Luke. So I’m hanging up and you can just deal with it.” And with that the line disconnects.

Luke breaks out of his shocked state and begins to laugh. “Why are you laughing Newbie now the whole team knows we are sleeping together.”

“We are doing a lot more than sleeping together”

“Shut up you know what I mean this is so not how I pictured telling them.”

“Well at least they didn’t see the ring? They just think we’re dating.”

“On a scale of 1-10 how mad do you think they’ll be when they find out we only invited Morgan to our wedding?”

Once the couple finished laughing Luke sends Tara a text. “You were right I did move.” Alongside a picture of Penelope’s ring. He could practically see their faces of shock. He knows when he returns to work he’ll have to answer to Rossi, Emily, JJ, Tara and Matt but that was a problem for future Luke. Present Luke decides to go back to bed with his wife.

[tiredassmage]

Unprompted “thought Dot has been chewing on” post of the week is... Tyr as a mentor. I’m sitting him and Raina down in the same room and staring at them.

This is a long babble of me trying to pin down my thoughts on them and Tyr’s thoughts on Raina, I think, so let me toss this all under a cut.

Yes, his relationship with half the crew is almost superficial given its depths as a personal relationship, but it’s interesting to snag on Tyr and his capacity to care for others and his care for his work, but his almost lack of relationship with Temple. I think I’ve finally, with the second playthrough, put a pin in the reason, with that reason being timing.

Everything else is going to shit when he meets Temple. And he’s on incredibly thin ice trying to keep up appearances that he is not two minutes away from another overwhelmed mental disconnect. Tyr trying to tune the radio station back in out of all the static. He barely has enough capacity to afford her a veiled apology of “sorry you’re brought into the middle of all of this” with no further elaboration on what the nebulous “this” is except a secret to closely guard in their new partnership in Intelligence.

But I’ve been having her tag along for Makeb and whatnot - partially because I’m rotating this and part of figuring out how they would or wouldn’t work together is actually spending time with her. And also because I think... think being my operative word... that it makes sense where they’re at now.

The galaxy is... slightly less trying to implode on top of them in that the threats and complications that inhibited him reaching out to her more fully are mildly handled. Some Cabal targets are still out there and you can pry him and Ardun covertly tag-teaming them across the galaxy when they find a window of opportunity from my cold, dead hands, but the overall threat is largely neutralized. So, he has time to actually examine Temple. Test her. See what one of his more recent operatives is actually capable of. Properly devote attention to evaluation of what he’s training her to do.

Tyr still doesn’t really trust anyone except maybe Vector at this point, but he can at least work with her, properly, now. Because they’re going to be needed. The war didn’t stop just because the master manipulators behind the curtain are on the run.

She’s dedicated and she’s largely by the books, from what he sees. Tyr plays maybe a bit looser with decorum and chain of command than she prefers, but she’s part of his team, and her success is therefore his success, overall. I can’t imagine them ever really connecting beyond that professional level. He plays another part for her - that of a superior and an instructor, when she asks, but, in her shoes, he would not share her decisions, so I think there’s a difference in ideals and beliefs there, if you will, that Tyr picks up on and its his signal to keep his distance. There’s certain perceived disagreements that keep him from examining it as a relationship where he trusts her more than required for the job. They get along, sure.

And the anyway of why I am rotating this in the first place is Tyr has such a strong connection to the people he considers mentors and, though I believe it largely goes unacknowledged because he hasn’t had it come up, I think he’d love to pay that kind of relationship forward. He very rarely thinks of his motivations in the frame of protecting others because he’s so accustomed to being part of a larger machine, a tool in overall machinations, but caring, whether he’d like it or not, is still important to him, drives his ideas of right, wrong, acceptable, and unacceptable.

He cares enough about his bottom lines to still take what leash he is given to yank back and stand his ground. He cares enough to prioritize the safety of the team on Makeb and take responsibility for operations even when he sees no way things could have been done differently because he’s already taken hits on the nose from disapproving Sith Lords, so he knows how to brace for the swing.

I think I’ve lost the plot of my thoughts - this is very stream of consciousness kind of musing, but I’m low-key emotional that, given an appropriate set of circumstances, I think Tyr would be low-key delighted to mentor. He looks out for his people and he takes pride in that. And I haven’t quite shaken the emotional ough I felt recognizing the parallel in how he looks out for his team, for people he cares about, the way he saw the Minister looking out for him. There was a man that would’ve taken a hit on the chin for him and still tried to hold everything together, to do what they could with what they were given. Tyr admires that a great deal.

Idk. Maybe it’s the “I don’t see a clean exit strategy from all of this for me, but I sure as hell can make it easier for the next one.” It’s some kind of flavor like that. Just. Chef’s kiss about it.

Again, I don’t know what to do with all of these little insights and whatnot, but. Maybe putting them down somewhere will help me organize them into something a bit more solid or developed. Tapping my fingers together and toying with this all like a rubix cube, y’know?

[signalwatch]

Noir Watch: Kiss The Blood Off My Hands (1948)

Watched:  02/15/2023

Format:  TCM

Viewing:  First

Director:  Norman Foster

Boy, they really used to know how to name a movie, didn't they?  

Kiss the Blood Off My Hands (1948) is post-war noir, filmed in Hollywood doing it's darndest to look like post-War London, and populated by British ex-pats and Burt Lancaster.  You get Joan Fontaine!  How can that be wrong?

This film is the darkest of noir, and an interesting example of the movement.  Normally I think of noir as including either a person who is in a morally corrupt world because of their choice of job as a detective, but much more often as a person who is corrupted by a compulsion (here's where you get your femme fatales leading morally shaky fellows astray) and their world turns upside down.  But this movie has a flawed protagonist who is also the victim of what we'd now call PTSD - a veteran of the war who saw no point in going back to the U.S. and is adrift in London.  

Drunk in a bar, he's being shown the door by the barkeep when he accidentally (being burly Lancaster) knocks the man over and he dies in the fall.  He runs, cops on his heels, and escapes into an open second-story window where Joan Fontaine is snoozing.  He more or less holds her captive til morning, but she doesn't squeal on him.  She's lonely and adrift herself in the wake of the war, her husband killed.  

A schemer who saw Lancaster kill the barkeep attempts to recruit and then blackmail him.  It's... dark.  And as Lancaster tries to get his feet under him and make things make sense with Fontaine (knowing he's just going to make things worse) - it just keeps getting darker.

The film is beautifully shot by Russell Metty, who makes the most of converted street sets and night time shoots.  He makes great use of the multiple levels of streets, apartments, stairs, etc... and manages to make a backlot set look (mostly) natural and buyable - a tucked away neighborhood somewhere in London.  Much could be made out of elevation in the film, and his use of shadow.

I don't need to remark on Fontaine and Lancaster - both know their jobs and are fantastic.

SPOILERS

The ending is... weird.  And weirdly unsatisfactory.  Fontaine is being set up to be blackmailed by Harry, the villain of the piece, when he attempts to rape her. Fontaine gets him with a pair of scissors.  For some reason - this is treated as a crime by both the character and the film.  It makes no sense.  Unless there's something I don't know about self-defense and 1948.  Which is entirely possible - but from a logistics and ethics standpoint, it seems cut and dried.  A story could have easily been concocted to set the characters free now that the one witness to Lancaster's manslaughter charge is gone (and the cops aren't looking for him).

So why are they trying to run?  And why do they go back to turn themselves in?  It seems out of character for both as they both seemed... fine?  Like, I get it.  Tell the cops, clear things up.  Including the manslaughter charge, I guess?  I would personally want to take responsibility - but it just seems like a weird, last second turn to the side of the angels that seems out of step with everything else, even when Fontaine finds out why the cops were really after Lancaster.  Like... just break up.

I still like the film, and a rewatch may clear all that up for me.  Mostly I do like the idea that a heel like Lancaster can genuinely try to be a better person for a Fontaine, but I'm not sure I like how they connected those dots in the final reel.  It feels a little Breen Office.

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