#based on real life events with (unfortunately) a very different ending

[velidewrites]

Summary: Nesta is having the worst time on her vacation—until she spots a handsome stranger in a restaurant. Lucky for her, he's determined to show her a good time.

Pairing: Nesta x Cassian

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: Smut, mature language, Mrs Archeron

Read on AO3

The only source of light in the restaurant were the candles, laid atop each table and flickering whenever the evening breeze dared to gently whoosh inside. There were no windows in the space—the climate here was warm enough to not have to bother with such things—so instead, someone had opted to carve rounded, open archways into the sandstone walls. Every now and then, the wind would find its way in, prompting the small flames into a dance that threatened to smother their enthusiasm for good.

Such cruel fate had been suffered by the fire burning over at Nesta’s table, its only remnant the thin swirl of smoke that was now slowly trailing upwards. Nesta’s eyes, however, remained fixed on the blackened wick, as if she could still feel the soft flame casting shadows over her face.

It had only been seconds, and yet the wax had already begun freezing into place as it dripped down the candle’s ivory length. To Nesta, though, the moment had somehow managed to extend into eternity—a fate even more cruel than the flame’s unfortunate death. Right now, she would do just about anything to simply evaporate into the nightly air.

A light click sounded somewhere near her side, and time resumed in an instant. A symphony of voices poured into her ears—conversations in too many languages to discern, tangled between the music playing quietly from the speakers hung in the gap between the back wall and the ceiling. Everything became too loud, too rushed, like an impending wave of the sea, the same kind that was now crashing into the shore overlooked by the restaurant. With a will of their own, Nesta’s eyes squeezed shut, as though shutting off one of her senses could somehow ease the fervour of the other, and she quickly blinked, realising there were too many gazes on her to allow an escape into her own head.

When her eyes opened again, her candle was burning anew. The fire rose from from the spent wick, resuming its dance as if never interrupted at all.

Nesta blinked one more time before finally looking up.

The waiter stood over their table, a sleek, electric lighter in his hand. He flashed her a smile, his perfect set of white teeth nearly brighter than the flame itself.

“Are you ready to order?” he asked in a thick accent. Nesta thought it made his question sound like a song. Rich and lovely—each word enunciated, each syllable important.

She opened her mouth when another movement caught her eye—a glimpse of lustrous silk, reflecting the light softly. Pink.

Nesta’s mouth closed with a flat exhale. Elain always managed to select the perfect fabric for the occasion—as if she could somehow predict how the setting would best compliment her outfit. Indeed, her own pencil skirt and a sleeveless top were no match for her sister’s dress, which could probably challenge the very sun with its own gleam. Nesta’s all-black ensemble, on the other hand, seemed to suck in all the light.

Seated to her left, Elain’s brown eyes narrowed as she scanned the menu carefully. “Do you have any vegetarian options?” she asked, brows creasing in worry.

Another movement—opposite from Nesta, this time. Her eyes darted to its source, just in time to catch the wave of their mother’s dismissive hand.

“She’ll have the octopus,” she told the waiter, whose own frown mimicked Elain’s before he quickly jotted down the order. “We’re at the seaside, after all.”

Elain’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“My eldest will have the calamari,” their mother continued, gesturing to Nesta. “Grilled, not fried. And the mussels for me.” And with that, she returned her gaze to the menu.

Elain cleared her throat pointedly, though the sound was hardly acknowledged as the woman flipped onto the last page, already examining the restaurant’s wine selection. Their mother did not deign to look up as Feyre spoke.

“I’ll have the salmon, please,” she said quietly, something strained in the back of her throat.

All the numbness Nesta had carefully cultivated in her chest prior to this evening vanished at the sound, a fire much more angry than the candle’s filling her instead. A ruthless, icy flame.

Her fury must have been evident in her eyes, because before Nesta even managed to make her feelings about mother’s obvious dismissal perfectly clear, Feyre’s slender hand wrapped around her wrist.

Nesta’s head snapped toward her little sister.

It’s not worth it, blue-grey eyes told her, even as their mother continued to question the waiter about the bitterness of the local wine.

Nesta swallowed. Hard.

Then, she looked to Elain—who shook her head quickly, honey-brown curls shifting over her shoulder.

Fine, then.

Nesta let out a deep, deep breath, and did not stop until all the fire was out and that familiar numbness filled her again.

She never thought she’d say this, but Nesta missed New York. Missed her apartment, however small, and the peace and quiet it offered on days like these—days when she felt forced to exist in the moment, to flow with its relentless current. She would give just about anything right now to be able to curl up on the grey couch in her living room and disappear under her favourite, plush blanket. She’d left a book on the coffee table beside it—she meant to bring it along for the journey, but it seemed that her mind had been too preoccupied with the destination to remember. The story—four hundred pages of her favourite romance—would have been the perfect escape for this occasion.

Frankly, Nesta had wanted to turn back and go home the moment she’d stepped on the plane. Her mood had only darkened when she discovered a raging six-year old was seated right behind her. The child had been intent on making her life even more miserable, opting to spend over half of the ten-hour flight frantically kicking her seat until his legs finally gave out about two hours before landing. The insufferable kid had been carried out by his mother, sleeping soundly in her arms and no longer resembling the devil’s spawn that he was—until they’d reached baggage claim, of course, where he’d taken the carousel for his personal playground, jumping right over her suitcase before Nesta had managed to fish it out.

The air had been warm and humid from the minute she’d left the airport, and it had only grown heavier since then. Not even the occasional breeze seemed to lift it as it swept over her face—as if mocking the beads of sweat that had begun to gather under her hairline. The climate didn’t bother her that much, to be honest—the island was beautiful, after all. The golden sand sparkling in the beaches, the turquoise water surrounding it. The palm trees growing on both sides of every stone-clad alley. Perhaps, in different company, she’d even be able to appreciate this place.

But alas, this trip was not the case. She and her sisters had been putting off this trip for two months now, though none of them had ever voiced their lack of enthusiasm aloud. Feyre would always cite her classes as an excuse, Elain was quite literally elbows-deep in work, and Nesta…after her fifteenth job interview, she was practically losing her mind.

Now, though, with the semester over and summer quickly approaching, the three of them found themselves with a lot of free time and too many missed calls from their mother. And so, when Nesta suggested they get on the plane and get the whole thing over with, neither one of her sisters even tried to protest.

It wasn’t that Nesta didn’t love her mother—they all did, truly. But love was a complicated thing, almost as complicated as the woman herself, and sometimes…sometimes it overwhelmed her.

She did feel guilty, of course. Mother’s health had been deteriorating over the past few years until finally reaching its critical point in early January. Her doctors strongly recommended a change of climate—a place where chaos didn’t thrive as wildly as it did in New York. Somewhere warm—somewhere quiet, where she could live out the rest of her days undisturbed by other worldly afflictions.

All of it was merely delaying the inevitable—even their mother knew that too well. Still, Nesta supposed, a remote island far away from the rest of the world did not seem like the worst place to turn to for comfort. She would have probably done the same had she found herself in a smilier predicament.

Except that comfort seemed to elude Mrs Archeron no matter where she fled—in fact, Nesta was starting to believe there wasn’t a single place on Earth that the woman could truly be satisfied. Even here, surrounded by nature’s radiant beauty, there was something missing. Sometimes, it was her favourite boutique in New York. Other times, the friends she’d left behind there, the weekly card games they always held at the Plaza. And lately, it was her three daughters, who, after all had not visited her in six months.

She’d seemingly forgotten that it had been Feyre who’d helped her move all the way across the world—who’d taken care of all the planning and paperwork until their mother had set foot in her new, beachfront suite. Her youngest sister had missed an entire week of lectures because of that trip, and would later sacrifice her sleep to catch up on the material overnight.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Nesta blinked, the question snapping her focus back into the present. The waiter was long gone—instead, mother had now seemed to engage Elain in a conversation, from the exasperated flush on her sister’s cheeks.

“Nesta,” Feyre murmured.

God, she needed to get it together.

“I’m sorry,” Nesta said carefully. “I got distracted for a minute. You were saying?”

The woman let out a long-suffering sighed. “You spend too much time in your own head, Nesta, and I know very well why.” Nesta’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I’ve always told you should read less—or at least, read something more productive than those silly rom-coms I’ve seen on your shelf.”

Suddenly, Nesta regretted ever inviting her mother to her apartment. She’d only come over for tea once—and apparently, it had been enough for her to restock her ammunition for later.

Forcing a smile which came out a bit crooked, Nesta met the woman’s gaze. Blue-grey eyes, the same exact shade as hers and Feyre’s, stared back, adorned by wrinkles not yet smoothed out by botox. “What was your question, mother?” she asked.

Another sigh, aimed to make her disappointment clear. “I was saying you should perhaps speak to your boss about Elain,” she suggested.

Nesta angled her head slightly. “Whatever for?”

“Mother,” Elain cut in, “I told you it’s not—”

“A job, of course,” she said, dismissing her daughter completely. “You work for a high-profile company.” It was the closest to a compliment Nesta had ever heard fall from her lips. “Surely they could find something for Elain, too.”

“Elain already has a job,” Nesta reminded.

Her mouth twisted in distaste. “A different job.”

“There is nothing wrong with what I do now,” Elain spoke again, her tone sharper now, colder.

Their mother raised a hand, the golden rings on her fingers glistening under the candlelight. “Of course there isn’t, dear. You misunderstand me again.” She turned to Nesta. “I’m only saying you could ask your boss if there are any opportunities. I’m sure Elain could use the extra money.”

“I’m doing perfectly fine where I am, mother. But,” Elain added through gritted teeth, “thank you for your concern.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I take it business is going well, then?” She never called Elain’s bakery by what it was—as if the mere thought of her daughter spending her days dabbling in flour already filled her with some unimaginable horror.

“Yes,” Elain said tightly. “Perfectly well.”

Mother shrugged. “If you say so. Still,” she looked to Nesta again. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Elain’s face practically burned red.

“Fine, mother,” Nesta quickly said, making sure to squeeze Elain’s hand under the table. “I will.”

She sure as hell wasn’t asking Tomas Mandray for anything. As of Monday, she’d never have to see him again.

Her mother didn’t have to know about the resignation latter, saved on her laptop and waiting to be sent out the second she returned. If she found out Nesta was planning to quit her stable, corporate job…not even the island’s lovely climate would save her.

Mrs Archeron nodded. “Good. You should ask him about your promotion, too,” she added. “I keep hearing about it, and yet nothing ever happens.”

Nesta tried not to cringe at the displeasure in her voice.

“A fine man, that Mandray,” she mused innocently. “Good looks…good social standing.”

Dread began to build in her stomach. Please, don’t, she begged her silently. I hate him.

Something twinkled in her mother’s eyes, and she opened her mouth.

“Greysen and I broke up,” Elain announced loudly.

Mother’s face whipped to her middle daughter, and Nesta’s shoulders sagged with relief.

“Why?”

A one-shouldered shrug, so similar to the one mother had given her only a minute ago. Thank you, Nesta wanted to shout across the table, though she suspected Elain hardly needed her gratitude. She was clearly enjoying this—especially as she added, “He wasn’t good for me.”

Mother was practically seething. “Greysen Nolan is a good match,” she said, as though unaware they were living in the twenty-first century. “His father and I are friends.”

“Just how good of a friend is he?” Elain shot back.

Nesta stilled.

Beside her, Feyre’s eyes widened.

Slowly, their mother leaned back in her seat.

“Ladies,” a deep voice sounded. “Your drinks.”

The waiter appeared as if out of nowhere, leaning to set their wine atop the table. Nesta had never reached for her glass quicker, urging the crimson liquid to flush down the heart lodged in her throat. Feyre, it seemed, had opted to do the same.

Only when the man pulled back, moving to approach another table, did Elain finally sway the wine in her hand, her gaze still levelled on her opponent. While mother had taken Nesta under her wing from a very young age, and completely dismissed Feyre as anything other than a tiresome presence in her house, she’d never seen Elain as anything beyond her looks—it was no surprise that she’d quickly become their father’s daughter—calm and unyielding, unafraid to face her head on and risk her disapproval. Mother had always underestimated her.

She seemed to realise that at last, as lightning seemed to rage in her blue-grey eyes, just barely restrained—an ancient storm ready to ravage a blooming land.

Not good.

So Nesta spoke, “Mother, did you know Feyre passed all of her finals with an A this year?” Feyre’s head snapped to her at that, even the freckles on her face paling. “Tell her about your post-colonialism class, Feyre.” And when Feyre didn’t manage to utter a single word, Nesta turned back to their mother, explaining, “It was the most difficult one, and she got the best grade out of her entire cohort. At NYU.”

Feyre released a breath. “It’s nothing,” she murmured.

Those icy flames licked at Nesta’s chest again. Acknowledge her, she wanted to scream. Praise her.

“It’s not nothing,” she told her sister. “You’ve been brilliant, I—Mother?” Nesta frowned, realising the woman had already risen from her seat.

“Oh, please, keep going,” she waved a hand. “Don’t let me disturb you—I’m just going to go find the restroom. I need to freshen up.”

And with that, she was gone, the light click of her heels on the stone floor following her to the back of the restaurant.

Nesta eyed the movement, willing that inner fire to stifle its rage—until her eyes settled on something else entirely.

“You broke up with Greysen?” Feyre spoke beside her, but her voice was distant now, as if sounding from miles away. “When?”

“Last month,” Elain answered. “But he had it coming long before that, really,” she added quickly.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry, Feyre. You were dealing with your finals, I—I didn’t want to add more onto your plate.”

A sigh. “I get it. Just—please know you can always talk to me?”

“Of course. Besides, Nesta was—Nesta?”

But Nesta had long stopped participating in the conversation.

For sitting at the table a few away was the most ridiculously beautiful man she’d ever seen.

She would’ve spotted him right away had it not been for her mother’s seat shielding him from view the entire night. It was impossible not to take notice of him—and not simply due to his size, the broad chest, the strong, golden-brown arms, their muscles practically glistening under the soft light. He looked like he’d spent the entire day on the beach, his dark, windswept hair loosening a few strands over his forehead—over his hazel eyes, bright with amusement as he listened to his companion.

And his companion…of course he’d come with a date. A woman so beautiful she seemed as though the sun itself had crafted her, her golden hair cascading down the red silks of her dress, down her exposed back. What the hell did they put in the wine in this place?

From the corner of her eye, Nesta could just barely make out Elain following her gaze.

“Go talk to him,” she urged.

At that, Nesta turned, schooling her features into cool indifference. “Who?”

Elain’s brown eyes narrowed. “Don’t act stupid now, Nesta. You were practically drooling.”

“Is it a crime to appreciate a good looking man?” she asked innocently.

“It’s a crime not to do anything about it.”

Feyre huffed a laugh. Nesta shot her a glare.

“Just do it, Nesta,” she told her.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. He’s clearly here with a date.”

“Could be his sister,” Elain supplied helpfully, though there was little confidence in her tone.

“They look nothing alike.”

Feyre sighed deeply. “Nesta, just go talk to the guy.”

“She’s right, you know.” Elain’s head tilted slightly to the side. “When was the last time you’ve been on a date?”

Nesta’s jaw clenched. “I’ve been busy.”

“Exactly,” Feyre said. “And now you’re on vacation—you deserve to…let off some steam.”

Elain chuckled.

“Is that so funny?” Nesta challenged. “Maybe you should go talk to him, Elain—a little rebound’s never hurt anybody.”

Elain sipped from her glass. “Normally, I would,” she started, a small twinkle appearing in her gaze. “But I don’t think Lucien would appreciate it.”

Feyre’s jaw practically hung open. “Lucien? NYU Engineering Lucien?” She shook her head. “No, scratch that—my friend Lucien?”

Pink bloomed on Elain’s cheeks, and Nesta suspected it had little to do with the wine. “He came by the bakery a few days after your party.” That’s right, Feyre’s end-of-exams party—the one she’d quite literally begged her to show up to. The one she’d told Tomas about when she requested a day off—and so naturally, he’d made her work overtime well into the early hours of the night. “We’re going on a date next week.”

Feyre’s arms folded over her chest. “I can’t believe that asshole didn’t tell me,” she grumbled. Lucien may have been two years above Feyre—but he was still a good friend. At least, that was Nesta’s understanding from the one time she’d met him.

“I know what would lift your mood right up, Feyre,” Nesta suggested, a sly smirk curling up the corner of her mouth. “Go talk to the guy.”

Her eyes gleamed with challenge. “I will if you don’t do it first.”

She gestured towards his table. “Be my guest.”

Feyre groaned loudly.

“Nesta, would you please stop being so stubborn?” Elain begged.

“I’m not going to make a fool of myself,” she huffed.

“We’re literally on the other side of the world,” Feyre argued. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

What indeed?

Nesta considered—they were leaving after the weekend. If the golden woman really was his date, and Nesta was about to face a blatant rejection—she’d never have to see him again. She would probably have to avoid every beach on this island for the next two days, but now that she thought of it, she’d always been more of a winter person, anyway. And then, she’d simply go home and never think of him again.

If he was single, on the other hand… 

Nesta sighed. “Fine.”

Elain squealed in delight.

“Ask him what he ordered—it’s good small talk,” Feyre advised.

“I can see what he ordered from here,” Nesta protested. “Besides, his plate looks horrible. Who orders steak in a place like this?”

“You’re starting to sound like mother,” Feyre cautioned.

Oh, god.

“Do it your way, then, Nesta,” Elain hurried. “Just go.”

Alright then.

Nesta set her glass, rising from the table carefully. She did not nearly have enough wine for this, she realised. Her body felt warm—but not warm enough to untangle the knots that had managed to form in her stomach. It wasn’t like her to put herself out there so…publicly. Honestly, she’d never had to work this hard to catch a man’s attention before.

“Have fun.” Feyre smirked. “We’ll be watching.”

Nesta hissed, “Don’t you dare.”

The sound of her sisters’ quiet giggles carried her through the space. She didn’t think she’d ever walked more slowly in her life, each step determined to drag this out for as long as possible. God, did she at least bother to check her hair beforehand? What if she’d smudged her mascara by accident?

Too late—she was so close now that she could make out just how perfectly the man’s stubble shaped his sharp jaw. Could see how large his hands were as he clasped them together, seemingly in excitement at whatever the woman had just told him.

She could see the perfect fullness of his lips as he leaned over the table and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Well, shit.

Nesta practically lunged for the bathroom, making a turn so sharp she almost slipped on the polished stone floor. Damn her and her stupid heels—everyone wore sandals in this place, anyway. What devilish forces pushed her to leave all of her flat shoes back home, she did not know. She could only pray no one saw her obvious escape—or the heat that was no doubt burning her face red.

The restaurant had been booming with conversation and music all night, and despite this, the only sound she was convinced everybody could hear now was her heels, loudly carrying her away as she disappeared into the corridor that led to the restrooms.

The door swung open before she’d even managed to reach for the handle.

“Ah, Nesta,” Mrs Archeron said, and Nesta almost stumbled back a step. Her mother reached for something in her handbag as she continued “Here, use this.” She fished out a small packet of tissues and pressed them into Nesta’s palm. “Public restrooms are an atrocity.”

And just like that, she left.

Nesta stared at the packet for a few seconds before finally entering the quiet room.

It was a cozy space, with golden-framed mirrors, hanging from an old mural of the sea, and marble sinks. She placed the tissues atop one of them and faced her reflection at last.

Well. She did not look half bad, at least.

Her makeup was still intact—by some miracle, even the dark wings of her eyeliner remained sharp. She’d braided her hair into an updo earlier, and though a few loose strands had fallen out to frame her face, the entire ensemble looked somewhat presentable. Nesta reached for one of the tissues, dabbing it lightly over her face in places where the heat of her embarrassment melted her foundation slightly, and sighed. What was she thinking?

She made herself count to ten before going back into the dining area, her mind already crafting a pathway back that did not involve walking past the guy’s table. There was a staircase on her left, in the corridor right by the bathroom door, that she hadn’t noticed before. The sign next to it had been written in a language she did not understand, though the message seemed pretty obvious—no entry. Shame. Nesta would have done just about anything to hide upstairs for the remainder of the night.

“I was wondering where you went,” a voice appeared beside her.

Nesta stilled. He sounded exactly as she’d imagined.

Please, let this be a dream, she begged silently. A hallucination from the humidity.

If only.

Slowly, she turned from the stairs and faced him.

Up close, he was almost criminally beautiful. He knew it, too, there was no doubt in her mind about that—not as he folded his golden-brown arms over a powerful chest, leaning against the wall with a smirk. He was so ridiculously large that he shielded most of the restaurant from view—barely, just barely, she could make out her sisters’ forms, sure to be watching them intently.

The idea made her thoughts sharpen, like a fog lifting from her gaze—pretty or not, he was still a man, and Nesta was hardly one to fall at their feet at first glance.

And so, schooling her features into what she hoped was cool indifference, she asked “Excuse me?

A chuckle.“When you left your table, I was hoping you were coming over the say hello,” he mused, his voice like a melody sang by the darkest night—low and smooth over her skin, penetrating every fibre of her being. Nesta nearly gritted her teeth as a new fire awoke inside her—hot, teasing and wet.

He’d sought her out.

“I don’t think your date would share the sentiment,” she said, careful to keep her tone aloof.

His brows knitted over hazel eyes—from up close, she could see the speckles of green dancing around his pupils. “My…” he paused, a shadow of confusion clouding his face as he took in her words. “Oh.” A smirk curled the corner of his lips. “Mor is a friend.”

“You have very pretty friends.”

He hummed. “Wouldn’t hurt to have one more.”

She couldn’t help it—couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at her own lips. “You’re very cocky for a…” A what? With a face like that, she couldn’t really blame him.

He flashed her a grin, as if he knew exactly what was going on in her mind—and enjoyed every last bit of it. “What’s your name?” he asked. God, she liked his voice. She liked everything about him.“Nesta,” she said, extending a hand.

He lifted himself off the wall, stepping in close enough to take her hand into his. That delicious heat stirred in her again at the contact—at the warmth of his skin, the slightly calloused fingers. She began wondering what he did for a living—until all thoughts evaporated from her head as he leaned to brush his mouth over her knuckles in a light kiss.

“Cassian,” he said, and the liquid fire descended down to the deepest, most aching part of her.

“Cassian,” Nesta repeated, testing out the name on her tongue. It did not sound nearly as nice on her tongue as it did on his—though Cassian hardly seemed to agree, from the way his eyes darkened at the sound.

He released her hand much too soon for Nesta’s liking. “I was about to have some dessert. Would you like to join me, Nesta?” he asked, motioning to the stairs and up.

Nesta’s brows furrowed. “Upstairs?” she questioned. “Isn’t it a private area?”

Cassian smiled at her again, and suddenly, she stopped caring about signs altogether. “Oh, it is,” he said. “Lucky for us, my brother owns this place.”

Lucky indeed.

“What of your date?”

He snorted. “I told you—not a date.”

“You know what I mean.”

Cassian jerked his chin to his table, a secretive twinkle in his eyes. “She was waiting for somebody else.”

Nesta followed his gaze—to where the beautiful woman, Mor, now smiled openly as she took the hand of her new companion. The woman who had taken Cassian’s seat returned her expression, her dark eyes shining brightly.

“Oh,” Nesta simply noted.

“Yes,” Cassian agreed, something like amusement creeping into his tone. “What’s your final verdict, then?”

Nesta shot a quick glance at another table—where Feyre was now giving her what seemed like a thumbs up. 

“Lead the way,” she told him.

Cassian, it seemed, did not need to be told twice.

The room upstairs was a lovely studio, the interior similar to that of the restaurant. A small but well-equipped kitchen made up the corner on the left side of the entrance, divided from the rest of the space by a dining table of dark, polished wood. A couch stood by the windows toward the back wall, overlooking the village beneath. Nesta moved closer to the sight—it only took her a few steps to reach the other end of the apartment—as though unable to help herself, to admire the soft lights glinting from inside every household. The sea laid on the other side of the building, but she could still hear the gentle rustle of waves docking ashore. Now, with a peaceful view and a change in company, she felt her appreciation for this place grow.

“It’s beautiful.”

Somewhere behind her, Cassian hummed. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Nesta turned on her feet to meet his gaze—only to find it occupied. Cassian’s eyes surveyed her closely, sweeping over the curve of her hips, her waist, her breasts—until they finally settled on her mouth, something bobbing in his throat at the sight.

For some reason, Nesta’s mouth felt dry. “Do you stay here often?” she asked, but her words felt distant, absent even as she spoke them.

Cassian shook his head, his gaze reluctantly moving to meet hers again. “Only sometimes. My other brother usually watches the place.”

“You have two?”

He nodded.

“I have two sisters,” she said.

He took a step towards her. “I saw.”

“You were watching me?” she asked, the question no more than a breath. He was so close to her now—she could wrap her hands around his neck if she wanted to.

His voice was hoarse as he admitted, “I was.”

Nesta went molten, all the heat he’d rallied inside her fluttering in her belly and swirling down to her core. She needed him to touch her now—anywhere, everywhere, all at once. She wanted to know how those fingers would feel as they traced the curve of her breasts, how they’d stroke that aching place deep inside her that thrummed under his stare.

He saw her—had spotted a stranger in the sea of candlelight and decided to wait for her move. The thought sent a shiver down her spine—she fascinated him just as he did her. 

Perhaps this trip had not been such a bad idea after all.

Feeling bold, Nesta closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his broad chest. She tried not to gasp at the hard muscle she felt underneath—at the heartbeat that began to race under her touch. She couldn’t help but smirk.

A large palm covered her own. “So, Nesta,” Cassian said, the low rasp of his voice caressing that desperate tightness inside her. “Tell me what brought you here tonight.”

She had a feeling he didn’t mean the restaurant. “I wanted to have some fun.”

Something twinkled in his gaze as he asked, “Not enjoying your time on the island so far?”

She slid her hand up to his neck, her thumb reaching to brush the roughness of his stubble. She could’ve sworn he shuddered slightly at the touch. “Could be better,” Nesta teased.

His eyes darkened. “Let me show you, then,” he pleaded. “Let me show you a good time.”

“Yes,” Nesta breathed.

In a quick and definitely practiced move, Cassian grasped both her hands in one of his palms, lifting them above her head. A sharp gasp tore from her lips as he pinned them to the wall behind her, his grip on her deliciously firm. Nesta’s exposed shoulders brushed the stone, its cold touch instantly smothered by Cassian’s hot breath on her skin as he leaned down to crash his lips into hers.

He tasted like fire and the richest of wines, the feel of him nearly dizzying, consuming. His other hand rested heavily on her waist, trailing upward as if wanting to explore every last inch of her. Nesta’s lips parted slightly when he cupped the side of her breast, and his tongue slipped forward to meet her own like a hungry flame.

His body pressed in closer, and Nesta arched into him, desperate for more friction. Like a bolt of lightning, pleasure rocked through her she felt the hardness bulging under his trousers, digging into her stomach in repressed need.

“Take this off,” she commanded between breaths. Cassian chuckled.

As he pulled away, sliding his shirt off in one, swift motion, Nesta allowed herself a moment to admire the man before her. With his chest laid bare to her, he looked like one of the marble sculptures that decorated the space downstairs—like some kind of ancient warrior, crafted from iron and flame. He was intoxicating.

With her hands freed, she moved to trace the cords of carved muscle with her fingers, delighting in the sight of his chest falling in uneven rhythm. “I was right,” she mused, more to herself than him.

“About what?” Cassian asked, his question no more than a rasp.

Nesta flashed him a smile. “This is going to be fun.”

His lips found hers again at that, the kiss deeper now, more desperate, as if he wanted to ingrain the feel of her into his memory forever. A rustle of fabric signalled his hands on the hems of her shirt, and Nesta raised her hands, suddenly feeling very smug about her decision not to wear a bra for the evening.

A low, feral noise escaped Cassian’s throat as he took in the sight. Nesta shivered, and it had little to do with the breeze that made its way in through the open windows she was nestled between.

His hands slid down her body, and Nesta stopped breathing entirely as he circled the tip of a finger around her pebbled nipple. Her nails dug into his arms, the sensation of his touch on her sensitive skin tantalising. She needed more of him—and she needed it now.

Then, Cassian flicked her nipple, and a wretched moan ripped free from her throat. Cassian snickered in delight and flicked again, the touch drawing just enough pain this time to spur another, clawing ache that dripped between her thighs.

“Cassian,” Nesta pulled away, panting. “Wait.”

He stopped immediately, moving back an inch to meet her frantic stare. “What is it?”

“The windows.”

Cassian frowned slightly. “What about them?”

“They’re open,” Nesta said, her breath still uneven. “There are guests downstairs—”

A very satisfied smile curved his lips upwards. “Well,” he teased, his hand on her side moving to wrap under her thigh. “I guess you’ll just have to be very quiet, then.”

And with that, he lifted her up.

A thrill shot down Nesta’s spine as he pinned her to the wall again, and she hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him in to settle between them.

“Just like that,” he praised, his other hand sliding down to grip her ass. There was a feral edge to her smile as she looked up at him, and a low rumble reverberated through his chest. “Nesta—”

She let her name drown in his mouth as she brought her lips to his, her legs wrapping tighter around him. The core between her thighs throbbed with her need, her anticipation, begging to be filled—to be given what she so badly wished. Keeping one of her hands on his neck, she slid the other down to the buttons of his trousers, working them quickly until another, grey fabric appeared.

Cassian groaned into her mouth as she skimmed her hand down his length.

“Who’s quiet now,” she mocked, her fingers teasing him again.

“Bossy,” he panted, his own hand moving to spring himself free at last. Any smug retorts her mind began crafting died on her tongue as she took in his cock, the breath in her chest hitching at its size, at the velvety shaft promising to completely and utterly wreck her.

He pulled her own, black skirt up to her hips before she’d even realised, as desperate for her as she was for him. Cassian’s hand moved to cup her ass again, fingers digging into the pliant flesh deliciously, as the other reached down to guide himself to her entrance.

His cock brushed the thin layer of her underwear, practically soaked with the pleasure he’d coaxed from her. “You’re killing me,” Cassian breathed, feeling the wet heat welcoming him, urging him in. She could not longer endure it—the feel of the blunt tip of his cock so achingly close, and yet not nearly close enough.

He seemed incline to agree as the sound of a ripping fabric filled the space between them. Cassian discarded her underwear to the floor before Nesta managed to open her mouth in protest, the darkness in his eyes drowning out the hazel.

“You won’t be needing it anymore,” he told her simply, his hand returning between her legs.

Her gaze followed the movement. “Is that so?”

The asshole had the audacity to wink. “I promised you a good time, did I not?” he asked, another wide smirk blooming on his beautiful face as he lazily teased a finger at her entrance, her aching cunt coating him in her slick. “Seems to me like you are,” he hummed, crooning his digit inside her.

Nesta gasped, her walls immediately clenching around him, pulsing with need. He hissed at the sensation, his cock twitching impatiently beside his hand, begging to take its place. Nesta could not agree more—she needed more, needed to feel the fullness of him inside her, to find out just how deeply she could take him. Her vision glazed with lust as she watched him add another finger, stretching her with ease.

“Cassian,” she urged, her voice tight now, strained as those fingers retreated and dipped into her again, stroking in a slow, steady rhythm that threatened to push her over the edge. Too soon—she had to find out now, had to get her craving satisfied, had to have him fill her entirely before she exploded. “Cassian,” she said again, louder, this time as her thighs shook slightly around him. It felt so fucking good and he knew it, from the smile she felt on her neck as his mouth lowered to nip at the exposed skin.

“So impatient,” he purred, his breath hot beneath her ear and shooting that familiar lightning through her again, setting every nerve in her body on high alert, tingling. His pace quickened, pulling in and out of her increasingly tightening centre, and she rolled her hips into his hand, pushing him deeper, her efforts messy, needy. “I want you to come for me, Nesta,” he told her, his lips descending on her neck again as he added, “Before the real fun begins.”

Release crashed into her without warning, her inner muscles clenching him tight as she moaned loudly, unable to contain her the sweet, white-hot fire inside her any linger. Cassian’s mouth found her own again, the kiss muffling out the sounds of her pleasure from any unwanted spectators as his fingers continued to ride her through it. Nesta’s tongue darted into him, scraping over his teeth, not nearly satiated enough—she wasn’t sure she would ever get enough of him. 

He did not break apart from her as he wrapped both arms around her again, taking them to the couch a feet away. She straddled him the moment his back rested against the cushions, the feel of his hardness against her now dripping core rekindling that greedy fire inside her. She rolled her hips once, twice, relishing in the feel of him, in the guttural sounds he was making in return. His palms rested on her sides, lifting her slightly before flashing her a wicked smile.

“Ready, sweetheart?” he teased, the broad tip of his cock nudging at her entrance again.

God, she was in such deep shit.

Without another thought, Nesta slid her hands to his neck and drew him inside her.

All the air was sucked from her lungs at the stretch of him, of every aching inch as she lowered herself on his cock. Cassian hissed sharply, his grip on her hips tighter now, as though he needed to restrain himself from thrusting deep inside her, to give her a moment to adjust to the thickness of him.

But Nesta was done waiting.

She grasped a hand at his shoulder, urging him to move closer, deeper, to move with her until she could no longer see anything but stars. She could practically hear how wet she was as his strokes grew steadier and devastatingly precise, each one of them reaching further into her core, each one making her breaths go shorter and her legs grow weaker.

“Nesta,” Cassian panted, his head dipping to the crook of her neck, “You feel incredible.”

Maybe it was the way he spoke her name, low with a flash of possessiveness in his dark eyes, or the praise he’d thrown at her, but she shuddered with delight as she sunk fully onto his length, her walls gripping him tighter. Cassian swore loudly, the curse in that language she didn’t understand yet still shooting jolts of pleasure through her body. She looked down to where they joined, to where she was split open around his cock, where he dragged himself up and down the slick folds of her cunt.

Her pace quickened at the sight, something in it breaking the last shred of composure within her.

Nesta mewled as he pushed in deeper than ever before, his cock hitting the back of her cunt, stroking that sensitive spot inside her that made her melt entirely. She moaned his name, no longer caring for whoever might hear—there was only the fire erupting inside her as he filled her, the sound of his heavy breaths as he matched her pace, the wildness in his eyes as she moved on him, deeper and deeper.

She felt the inevitable tug of another climax, creeping in closer and closer with every thrust, every flutter of her cunt around him. Her legs trembled, threatening to give in the next time his cock found that secret spot inside her, her breasts bouncing with her movements.

“Cassian,” she choked, throwing her head back as his hands slid up to cup them.

Cassian’s mouth closed around one of her nipples, and she exploded.

Her walls clenched around him hard as she came, Cassian following swiftly after as his thrusts became messier, more chaotic until he finally gave in. His groan reverberated into her body, settling deep beneath her skin, caressing every shuddering inch of her as she rode them both through their joint release. They recovered together, their heaving breaths syncing into one, and it felt so good and so right that she never wanted to leave.

When Cassian’s eyes searched her own again, flickering brightly, Nesta couldn’t help but grin.

“I believe you promised me dessert,” she told him.

His gaze swept over her body, over the mess she’d made of him, and when it returned to hers at last, it was filled with a new hunger that sent heat into her once more. “Yes,” he hummed. “I believe I did.”

Taglist: @sv0430 @queercontrarian @asnowfern @helhjertet @isterofimias @octobers-veryown @fieldofdaisiies @teamazris @a-frog-with-a-laptop @jmoonjones

#aka the time nesta saw cassian in a restaurant and went insane #based on real life events with (unfortunately) a very different ending #god this is so self indulgent #but you can read it too #nessian #nessian au #nessian smut #nessian fic #pro nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #nesta acosf #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #feyre archeron #elain archeron #acotar au #acotar fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[fickleminder]

hardly a happy day

Set in NB. Satan learns the real reason why you turned down his invitation to the hot springs on his birthday.

A late piece for Satan's birthday inspired by the Hot Spring Survey chat in NB that came in on the same day. Since Solmare doesn't give us birthday events anymore, I felt compelled to write something based on it.

Lucifer's tone held no room for argument. "Absolutely not. I forbid it."

Satan paused outside the library's doors, curious about which of his brothers had gotten into trouble this time. To his surprise, it was their attendant who was on the receiving end of Lucifer's lecture.

"What if I kept myself hydrated and stayed away from the water?" He heard you bargain. "I'll try to convince Satan not to spend too much time—"

"I've been to those mountains before. A human wouldn't even survive the climb without being roasted alive." Lucifer interrupted you gently, and Satan's heart dropped into his stomach. "I know you feel bad turning Satan down so abruptly, but there are other ways you can make today special for him."

Satan hadn't known he was inviting you to a death trap. In hindsight, you were right to take back your enthusiasm when you found out where exactly he was going, but he'd been so caught up in wanting to experience something new with you that he'd reacted badly when you suddenly changed your mind.

Humans really were different from demons, weren't they.

"Why don't you cook a special dinner for when Satan gets home?" Lucifer suggested. "I'll accompany you to the market to get everything you need."

"...Yeah, you're right. That's probably a better idea," you admitted with a sigh. "Maybe I'll make that dish he likes, the one with the—"

Satan left quickly before he spoiled his own birthday surprise, feeling somewhat conflicted. On one hand, while you ultimately deferred to Lucifer's more reasonable proposal, he was touched that you actually considered risking your own well-being to indulge his sense of adventure. You truly were devoted to him, and he only wished he could show you just how much you meant to him too.

On the other hand, how could he have been so foolish, endangering your life on a whim? He couldn't fault your self-preservation instincts for kicking in, and all this proved was how little he understood about humans and their physiology. If he'd kept his destination a secret and dragged you along with him, if you hadn't known anything about the hot springs and followed him blindly...

No, Satan didn't even want to entertain that thought. He'd been on his way to his room to pack for his impromptu outing, but now he didn't quite feel up to it anymore. At the very least, he would still leave the house to give you some privacy while you prepared for his return, although this incident only reinforced the fact that unfortunate things happened on the anniversary of his birth.

It was hardly a happy day; why you insisted on celebrating it was beyond him.

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me nightbringer #obey me satan #obey me lucifer

[strxbrymochi]

random when you're sick jaemin drabble

pairing: jaemin x reader (i tried to make it gen neutral djsjsjs)

words: like less than 1k ish??

warnings: mentions of sickness, illness, id say it be too close to home fr

synopsis: basically you're sick and jaemin's here to comfort you as much as he can long distance style.

note: a random ass drabble i came up w as im lying in bed sick for the 4th day and after a conversation i had with my mom bc i needed an outlet lol (its like 99% based on real life events other than the fact that i unfortunately do not have a jaemin with me 💔)

you absolutely despised being sick. okay, maybe sometimes you would be okay with it because it served as a formidable excuse to get out of work or your responsibilities for a couple days but that was when "sick" constituted to simply a cold or a fever that passes over the next day, not when you're tied down to the bed and the toilet every second of every day.

you wake up one day to shivers, brushing it off, you continue on with your day, heading over to work. on your way to work, you start feeling dizzy, nausea hitting you. you take a pill to calm down and make your way to your shift. today, you were working at a small fast food chain restaurant and if things couldn't get any worse, you were assigned to deal with the blowtorch. the heat from the fire and small space rushing all the way to your head but you push through, making it to the very end of your 3 hour shift.

making your way to your next appointment, you scavenge for food to hopefully give you back your appetite. you haven't eaten a proper decent meal all day; only crackers before you drank your pill. oh, and did i forget to mention, you headed into work with a 38 degree fever; claiming "to be fine" because you needed the hours to sustain your living expenses in a foreign country all alone.

at your meeting, you're met with fatigue. a wave of exhaustion rushes over you and coughing fits take over. your brain barely processing what was being discussed, only speaking when directly being asked a question. but still, you push through, ensuring everyone around you that you were going to be okay. that it will all brush away soon and that you really are just tired. your fever has reached close to 40 degrees.

you sigh, throwing your phone on your bed. on any other day you would have loved to talk to jaemin, especially now that you two were oceans apart. it killed you to know that if only you hadn't moved he would be right there and you could see him in person. that alone would've been all the medicine you need to get better. but alas, life had other plans.

the next couple days consisted of sleep, wake up, repeat. occassional trips to the toilet and visits from coughing fits disrupting your sleep that make you sound like you're entering into an entirely different dimension. you had absolutely no energy-- to eat, to move, to do anything really. when you said you needed a break, this wasn't what you meant.

jaemin would call you, or attempt to call you and you would pick up, if you were awake and if you were in the mood to speak. he would send you daily messages to drink your medicine, eat meals, get some rest. you knew he was worried and it killed you not to be able to ensure some type of reassurance everything was going to be fine. you knew if he found out what you had been actually doing, you would never hear the end of it.

one night you had awoken from your nap struggling to find something to eat, let alone the energy to consume anything. at this point, your stomach is practically bounded to an electrical heating compress to temporarily soothe your pains. you weren't sure if you were getting any better. your fever was relatively gone sure, but the coughs, stomach pains and diarrhea remained. let alone, that morning you almost passed out in the toilet, hearing muffled, ears ringing, vision blurred. all you could do is pray.

well, at least your sense of humor was back.

---

LOL such an abrupt ending idk i just needed an outlet to express how im currently feeling and whats been going on these past few days so if theres a delay with mtt or my other stuff i apologize once again 😭😭 need all the prayers and support i can get fr; being sick is one thing, being sick in a foreign country alone is another story. for anyone else who has gone thru or is currently going thru same thing, i hope yalls feel better soon and that know things will get better! bc i know thats what i need rn 🫡

#nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabble #nct drabbles #nct fics #nct jaemin drabble #na jaemin fic #jaemin drabble #jaemin fic #jaemin as your boyfriend #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x reader #nct dream when youre sick #nct dream fics #nct scenarios #nct random drabbles #nct random scenarios

[amerricanartwork]

Y’know, I have a funny story with the ship between Innocence and Pebbles.

@eggobuggo , my sister, was playing The Sims and made the iterators in her own humanised forms, including her version of Innocence and Wind, along with Moon, Pebbles, NSH and Suns, all with their own personalities and stuff. She set up a generic apartment, put the gang in, and just had fun making them do silly shenanigans together, while I sit and watched her play.

In particular, we headcanon NSH, Pebbles and Innocence as Gen 3s, the newer modes, and so she made them into teenagers, which, with a DLC, have a whole new host of features that are not in the base game. This includes getting crushes (which weirdly enough, young adults and adults cannot get).

But anyway, one day, later into the game (the gang basically all were in the high end of the friendship scale with each other), the notif board popped up that Innocence had gotten a crush on Pebbles. Unfortunately for her, NSH and Pebs were already being all flirty with each other (Ragequit is where it’s at for us), making Pebble basically keep her in the friendzone. Ngl, my heart went out to her :,) Especially so, because they were all sharing a room. (space was tight)

After that, I began thinking about it in context of it in-universe, and ngl, I came to quite liking it as a ship, especially since I see Innocence to be less… asshole-ish (?), I guess, than what the general fandom makes her out to be (I mean it’s understandable, we only see her to leak the pic of Pebbles condition and that’s it.). To me and Eggo, she’s much nicer unless you really piss her off, which then, her more cynical and gossipy side of her comes out. She was actually more of on the friends side with Pebble before the shit went down.

At the time, I thought “dang, it’s a shame I won’t be seeing anything of it since she’s so obscure.”. This was a couple months before I began seeing art of them on the main tag.

Soooo… I guess I’m somewhat of an og Milkshake (as is the fandom name) shipper???

Just, seeing you and others make art about them is almost surreal in a way, since the only reason I really considered them as a ship was cuz of a random event in a life sim game lol.

Also @eggobuggo, I hope you don’t mind me sharing the story. :)

Wow, that seems like quite the story! And I do agree, after witnessing something like that in a totally different game it must be pretty surreal to see the ship gaining popularity in the actual RW fandom now too! It's nice to get another seal of approval from an original Milkshake shipper!

For me, it's also a bit strange because it's something I've considered for a really long time as a lingering "oh, wouldn't it be cool if I could make this work?" idea. The obscurity and lack of content for UI to draw inspiration from, both canon and fanon, definitely added to these feelings and the difficulty of imagining a working portrayal of the ship, hence I've only recently felt confident enough about the relationship and UI as a character to act on it. So after Pura coined the ship name and made a lot more art of it, then other artists started expressing approval and even drawing it themselves, it almost feels like I'm watching the ship enter the mainstream (Tumblr) fandom consciousness in real time, which is honestly pretty cool, especially since it feels like I had a hand in it with that initial ask! And even if I wasn't the very first to consider it, I'll definitely continue supporting this ship!

For some other thoughts though, I totally agree on Innocence not being mean in reality, though for me she's not mean or gossipy at all and more so has a kind-of opposite major flaw that tends to cause bad things unintentionally. As much as I can understand interpreting the character as a genuinely mean person, I thought it'd be interesting to imagine that her leaking the rot simply caused others to perceive her as mean, not that she's that way in reality. After all, I don't think we ever see direct dialogue from Innocence in canon, and the only evidence I can find of her being mean is Wind's speculation on her motivations. I also took inspiration from @shkika's Innocence, but I just wanted to see if I could take those ideas further to create my own unique interpretation.

Also, it's actually pretty coincidental you're telling me this too, because in regards to what I've come up for my Milkshake portrayal, Innocence having an unrequited crush on Pebbles for a really long time is actually really important for both plot and character arc reasons! I've been developing my own take on the classic worm-off-the-string iterator AU idea with @hail-strom for like the past week or so and the ship as of now plays a decent role in that, but the unrequited crush acts as subtle, yet major context for Innocence's actions throughout, which in turn slowly influence Pebbles especially as he starts to reciprocate those feelings (much to his alarm)!

Anyway, thanks for sharing that with me, and thanks for giving me a chance to ramble about this ship more! I'm honestly so happy to see it growing, and all support counts!

#inbox #rain world #rw shipping #rw milkshake #rw trinkets #unparalleled innocence #rw ui

[tqmies]

Description. Now armed with a new support system, you're ready for anything that'll be thrown at you. That is, until your world starts to shift out of order. And unfortunately, Taehyun is taking this way harder than you.

Pairings. Kang Taehyun x Female Reader

Genre. Angst, Fluff Kinda, Comfort. (This is a self ranting again lol.)

Warnings. Pregnancy (Not MC), Everyone's an emotional wreck, Taehyun's pushing everyone away, MC is confused half the time.

Word count. 6.7K (Why do I keep doing this?!)

Note. This is Part 2 of Free Somebody. I don't recommend reading this a stand alone, as you'll be very confused. Also this is once again based on real events, and I tried to convey my thought process as best as I could but.. LMAO. Some things end up unresolved but that is real life so, bear with me and enjoy.

IN THE FEW MONTHS YOU SPENT TOGETHER, YOU FIGURED OUT KANG TAEHYUN WAS HARD TO READ. Not that you held it against him or anything, but he kept you at a sizable distance and rarely shared his emotions with you.

It felt kind of embarrassing at first, seeing as you opened yourself to him so early on. Sure, it wasn't on purpose but it still happened.

So for him to call for you in such a frantic mood, said a lot about the his state of thinking right now, and you didn't know what to make of it.

Meanwhile, Taehyun felt like his world spinning out of control. All of this was happening, too much too fast.

You stood by his door, him having called you a couple minutes prior. He was scared, and he didn't want to be alone right now. Sure, the two of you weren't suddenly the best of friends. But right now, he just needed a set of ears to listen, and you were fine to oblige.

One of the perks of not being super close was that you wouldn't judge him for his reactions. You didn't expect him to hold it together or be something he's not. No, you caught the rawest sides of him, as he had seen yours. He had tried his best to keep you at arms-length when concerning his emotions, but right now was different. You knew when he pushed his pride aside to pick up the phone and call you, that this was a big deal. Though, didn't that just mean you were closer than you thought?

"I feel sick." Taehyun mutters, motioning for you to enter his room.

"What's wrong?" You question, noting the silence in the apartment. "And where are your roommates?"

His face goes pale at that. They were the last thing he wanted to talk about right now, or for lack of better words, one of them.

"I don't know what to do." Taehyun says, not looking up. His minds fleshing out a million thoughts and solutions, all written neatly side by side. Something of a white board in a science class, formulas drawn all across the expanse, but instead of equations it was just his bleeding problems.

"About what?" You say, growing anxious at the lack of explanation. He was clearly bothered by something, but his resistance in remaining secret was off putting.

"I'm supposed to be the rational one, the problem solver, but I have no idea what to do." He sighs, staring down at his hands.

"That's normal." You respond, moving to sit on the chair by his desk. Trying to collect your thoughts on what would be best to say next, though first you'd like to know what's shaken him up like this.

"Sakura's pregnant." He blurts out, your head whipping around to meet his. He almost flinches back as he said it, not expecting to be so transparent with you. Taehyun also knew it was none of his business to share, but he couldn't help it. It was like you had suddenly turned into a magnet that pried all this information out of him.

He felt his resolve slipping away and he hated it. For once he felt like he couldn't tighten his grip on his emotions.

"What?!" You whisper-yell, dumbstruck. "How do you-"

"I saw the test in the trash." Taehyun reveals. "Beomgyu's the father."

You run your hands through your hair. "This can't be happening." Taehyun had just dropped a huge bomb on you and was talking like he was discussing his lunch plans. One would think, how is he so collected? But you knew better, by the slight shake of his hands and his drawn out breathes, he was scared.

"Are you sure its her's?" You ask, maybe this was a misunderstanding.

"Soobin hasn't been with a girl in months. And he'd never be stupid enough to trash a positive test. Plus Beomgyu's straight in love with Sakura, it's not possible to think he would cheat." Taehyun says, recalling how he saw the stick sitting upright in the bin.

The words entering your head as you think. There could be another explanation right? Taehyun wasn't even fully sure, how could he be reacting like this?

"This is my fault. I led her straight to him. I never thought they'd be so reckless." He confessed, the words coming straight from his heart.

"Are you serious? They're adults Taehyun! This was their responsibility ok?" You speak, still a bit shaken by the news.

Your best friend was pregnant? How far along was she? When did she find out? What was she going to do now?

"But she's not ready for a baby, much less with Beomgyu."

This was truly a terrifying situation.

"Do you think she has a plan?" You ask, chewing your nail.

"I doubt she has one. Probably hasn't thought it through that far."

"We're not even sure that's what's going on." You attempt, trying to clear his thoughts.

Though you found it kind of hard to understand Taehyuns worry, it was a baby. This was not the end of the world, it wasn't even happening to him. Sure, things would change. But change is good, right?

Though, you'e determined to be there for him. So you try to comfort him the best way you know how. By distracting him.

You clap your hands together. "Okay, why don't we do something?"

"What?" He groans, not believing you had just said that.

"Lets watch a movie, something to take your mind off of things."

"I don't need to take my mind off of things." Taehyun maintains. "I need to figure out a solution."

"So then you called me for no reason? 'Cause we don't know shit right now, Kang." You fire back, not fond of his attitude. Though you were unsatisfied with your suggestion as well, what other choice did you have? He needed to calm down before he blew up at Beomgyu, or worse, Sakura.

He knew why he had called you, not for you to just pop up with a solution. He called you cause you're the only one who can ever manage to get him to stop overthinking so damn much.

"Pick whatever you want." He gives in, patting the seat next to him on his bed before handing you the remote to his TV.

You smile at his compliance and grab the object before flipping the screen on. "It's okay to be worried, I'm scared shitless too. But let's relax for a minute."

He lays back on his bed as he pulls the covers over the two of you, "What? I'm cold."

You just giggle as you press play on a movie, the previous qualms forgotten in favor of the crappy Netflix Original you had picked.

...

You stir awake as you begin to hear hushed voices. Oh, had you fallen asleep? Obviously, by the lack of light shining through Taehyun's window, you two had indeed knocked out. He still lays beside you comfortably, head resting on his arm as he remains napping. The end credits of the subpar movie you had put on rolled, indicating you two slept for around two hours.

You lean up and rub your eyes, throwing the blanket off of you. You really had to pee, which must've been the reason for your sudden awakening. Or maybe it was the small whispers that crept in from the living room, you didn't know. Were his roommates back? Was Beomgyu here?

Quietly, you patter over and open the door slightly. Making a beeline for the restroom, you sigh as you finally get to empty your bladder. After washing your hands, you attempt to silently make your way back to Taehyun's room, hoping to avoid confrontation with whoever was home. Sure it's not like anything happened, but it'd be awkward to explain why you were cuddled up with Taehyun in said boy's room.

Unfortunately, you don't get so lucky this time.

You hear the question of your name as you turn around. Beomgyu standing in the hall to see you, Sakura right behind him. Her face lights up as she see's you. "Hey! What're you doing here?"

Though you fear her tone is a bit too loud, and are scared of the two possibly waking Taehyun. He wouldn't exactly be thrilled to see the two of them anyways, so you figure you're doing them a favor as well.

"Taehyun's asleep." You whisper quietly, gesturing for them to lower their voices.

"Asleep?" Beomgyu blinks. "You were with him in his room?"

You just nod your head slightly. "We fell asleep while watching a movie."

"Yeah right." The male snorts as Sakura elbows him. She gives him wide eyes before telling him to knock it off.

"Well I'm glad you're here. I need to talk to you both." She says, a huge smile on her face.

"Me?" You feign, pretending like you didn't have a clue. You can practically feel your face draining of color. So it was definitely hers.

"I was going to text you earlier, but I wanted to wait till we saw each other in person! But this is perfect!" She squeals, "I'll go wake Taehyun."

"I'll do it." You stop her, before catching yourself. "He's kind of grumpy today."

"Oh okay!" She says, not giving it another passing thought as you walk into Taehyun's room.

To your surprise, his eyes flutter open as you open the door. "Where did you go?" He grumbles, still somewhat asleep.

"Bathroom." You brush off. "But you need to get up."

"No."

"Sakura and Beomgyu are here."

And he shoots up, all signs of tiredness gone from his face. "What do they want?"

"I think she's going to announce her pregnancy." You say, eyes darting around. "She said she wanted to talk to us."

"Tell them I'm not in the mood."

"Taehyun." You reason. "She's your sister, and he's your best friend. Can't you at least pretend to be happy?"

He sits up as he slides off the bed, mumbling an annoyed "Fine." As he slips his shoes on. Clearly unready to look the two in the face.

He opens the door as Taehyun dons a bored expression on his face. Beomgyu doesn't miss a beat. "What took so long? Was she helping you pull up your pants?"

Taehyun doesn't respond, instead choosing to look over at his sister. "What's up?"

She smiles for the millionth time as she looks at Beomgyu. He grabs her hands in his, giving her reassurance. "I'm pregnant."

Taehyun just looks back at you. "I know."

Well that was anticlimactic.

"What?!" Sakura exclaims, taken aback.

"Genius here left your test out in the open." Taehyun says, pointing his head towards Beomgyu.

Sakura death glares her boyfriend before looking back at Taehyun. "You don't have anything to say?"

"What do you want to hear Sakura?" Taehyun begins, his attitude about to slip through.

"Congratulations!" You squeal, interrupting the tense atmosphere. "I'm so excited! How are you feeling?" Someone had to be the bright one around here. You know the pair was expecting some kind of celebration.

"I'm going to be a mom!" Sakura gushes, holding onto Beomgyu's shoulder. The fake smile remained plastered on your face, did she know what was coming? Had this been on purpose?

"Wow , a mom with an over demanding desk job, and a dad who acts like a child himself. Your baby will be a real kicker!" Taehyun remarks sarcastically. The grin is wiped off your face as you pull back on his arm.

Shaking your head, you notice the two in front of you stayed silent.

"Aren't you happy for us?" Beomgyu questions, caught off guard.

"Happy?" Taehyun says, looking between them. "Happy that you ruined your lives?"

The silence speaks for itself. Your heart growing heavy as you watch the upset look on the couples face.

"Okay," You interject, eyes looking from their dejected ones. "Taehyun and I are going to get some food before he can say anything else he'll end up regretting."

Sakura just nods as you grab onto Taehyun, angrily dragging him out the door as he mutters something about the situation. How could he be such a rainy cloud on their obviously sunny moment?

You could talk out other things later, but right now you were just focused on helping him get his coat on. Giving him harsh looks as you can't believe he really said that to them.

"That was insensitive." You speak as you close the door behind you two. Walking out of the apartment complex with a frown.

"What's insensitive is them thinking they can provide a suitable lifestyle for the baby." He says with his head hung low.

"That's not our business to worry about." You respond, shrugging. "We just have to be there for them anyway we can."

He just scoffs. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to be 'Uncle Taehyun' all of a sudden."

"You'll be a decent uncle." You tease.

"Does this mean Beomgyu will be my brother-in-law soon?" Taehyun's jaw drops.

"Woah, who said they were getting married?"

"No one." He shrugs. "But the two are so in love that it'll probably happen."

"See, they love each other." You point out, opening the door to the restaurant the two of you frequented. "They'll make it work."

"Love doesn't pay the bills." He replies as you two enter.

"No." You agree. "But it helps."

"You're so naive."

"Maybe." You say, dropping the topic as you two sit down to eat. "Oh, but before I forget.."

"Yes?"

"You have to apologize."

"For what?!" Taehyun speaks. "For telling the truth?"

"It wasn't your place!" You say back, careful to mind the volume of your voice. "You really hurt their feelings."

And he rolls his eyes before muttering a small fine as he looks over his menu. He was convinced you were the only person in the world who could get him to see the fault in himself sometimes. It was a weird trait, but he couldn't say it was bad. You kept him grounded a lot and he appreciated it. He hoped he had made as much of a difference in your life as you did his.

-

Standing in the grocery aisle, you looked over the several different types of jams and jelly's on the shelf. Which one would Taehyun like anyways? I mean, you were only really buying it for him. He was the one who came over and complained (About three different times) about your lack of ingredients for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Goodness, he took a lot out of you, but it was worth it if it meant cheering him up. You knew something this small could make his mood a little better. And right now, anything would help.

You pull out your phone, contemplating calling him when you hear the sound of your name called out. You lower your phone and turn around quickly, met with a face you hadn't seen in months.

"Yeonjun." You squeak out in surprise. Your eyes drift to where he has about four liquor bottles in his hands, eyebrows raising.

"Oh, these?" He says, noticing your eyes. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

You offer a meek smile. "Big party coming up?"

"No." He shakes his head, before quirking it to the side. "..And yes?"

You just giggle lightly. "Nice."

"It's my birthday next week." Yeonjun states, averting his eyes. You remembered, of course you had. This was one of your closest friends just mere months ago. The memories were forever etched in your mind though, you'd never associate that day with anything else.

"Well, happy early birthday." You nod, not really sure what else to say.

"I want you to be there." He blurts out.

Your eyes widen at that. "Yeonjun-"

"Wait, before you shut me down." He starts, his brain gearing into overdrive. "There will be no drinking or weed, and it'll just be a couple of people."

"I don't want you to change things for me." You respond, waving him off in an attempt to deny the invitation. "Enjoy your birthday."

"You could bake me a cake." He begins again, not letting up. "Like old times. It'll be a calm thing, like a peaceful parting."

You feel uneasy about it. "I don't know."

"I promise I'm not trying to make this weird. I would just like us to celebrate this last birthday together." And Yeonjun sounds sincere, looking down at the basket he held in his hands, awaiting an answer.

"I have your number." You smile, and he caught onto that you'd think about it. Though you knew what your answer would be the moment he had asked. So after grabbing the most appealing brand of jelly, you went straight for the baking aisle.

By the time you got home, you were ready to crash onto a pillow. Loading groceries and putting them up had taken forever. Though you had made plans with everyone this afternoon, wanting to ease the tensions lately. Beomgyu and Taehyun weren't really on speaking terms, and Sakura was going to have a meltdown if they didn't get it together.

Taehyun was arriving soon, planning to help you cook. He had been mostly compliant with the idea, not wanting to cause his sister anymore stress, though you knew he was having a hard time. Still, you had appreciated his effort.

You groan as you hear the knock on your door, you figured you should just give the boy a copy of your key anyways. Him and Sakura could share with how often they came over.

You let him in and watch as he slips his shoes off. Hanging his jacket as he places a few bags on your counter, mostly last minute stuff like drinks and cups. He stretches his arms as he begins opening your cabinets, taking things out as you sit down in a chair by your counter.

"Get to work, Taehyun." You smirk.

"That's Chef Taehyun to you!" He rolls his eyes and you laugh.

You help cut a few vegetables and season a few things as you make mostly light conversation. It felt good to talk about mindless things like new tv episodes and office gossip. Definitely a change in the usual topic of conversation lately, and you were thankful for that.

Taehyun finished dinner right on time for the others to arrive, both of them giving him a shy smile. Tensions completely obvious, but he was keeping it together.

And he did just that. For a while, it seemed like it was just the four of you, normally eating a dinner together. Conversation was mostly cut short though, no one really speaking up besides complimenting the food. You all did this pretty often, so it was almost like nothing had changed.

Nothing had to anyways. Right?

"You know," Sakura begins. "I was really thrilled when you invited us all to dinner."

You can tell shes itching to say something, so you play along. "Mhm, why's that?"

"Well, I have something I want to ask the two of you."

You go cold, what could she possibly need to ask you and Taehyun? It felt like everyone just wanted to drop bombs on you lately. So you held your breath.

"I want you guys to be the baby's Godparents."

Taehyun visibly stiffens at that, even allowing his fork to fall onto his plate with a loud clank. His eyes never leaving the table.

"Me?!" You question. You understood Taehyun, that was her brother. But you? You had only known Sakura for about six or seven months now, but she trusts you with her child? This was huge.

"Yes you!" She says, offended that you seemed so surprised. "I trust no one else more in the world than you. And I know that if anything were to happen to Beomgyu and I, that you would take that baby in with no hesitation."

You sit back in your seat, this would a lot of responsibility. What was even included in being a baby's Godmother?

"Taehyun." She continues. "You are my brother, the most responsible person I know. And Beomgyu and I trust you so much as well. I have no doubt that you two could work together in the future for this baby."

"Well, if we die, that is." Beomgyu attempts to lighten the conversation.

"I'd like time to think over it." He responds, grabbing his fork and resuming eating, seeming indifferent.

You know Sakura wants to say more but she backs off for the sake of keeping everyone off edge.

"I accept." You say, causing Taehyun to whip his head around. Sure, this was a lot of process in a few days, but you love Sakura. You'd like to think she had helped change your life for the better, so you'd be there for her. If roles were reversed, you know she wouldn't hesitate to do the same for you. Even if it was for something kind of far fetched, more of a title than anything. If it made her happy, then you would do it.

"Well, I was thinking we could make it official on Friday."

"I can't Friday, it's my friends birthday." You mention as you pout.

"Awe," She responds. "Ok, we'll do Saturday then?"

"Sounds good." You say, looking beside you. "Maybe Taehyun will have decided by then."

"Who's birthday is it?" He asks, changing the subject. "Can we come?"

"Oh, it's not a big party." You say. "Just a few of his close friends."

Beomgyu nods in understanding. "Sounds nice."

"You seem nervous. Something you're not telling me?." Taehyun pipes up again, you bringing a spoon to your mouth. He's onto you.

"What're you talking about?"

"Can we please just eat?" Sakura interjects, you and Taehyun looking shocked to her outburst. Even Beomgyu had an unexpected expression.

You just nod and offer an awkward smile. Everything was happening way too fast, so you couldn't blame her for snapping.

You nudge Taehyun on his arm. "So, how's the food?"

"Fine." He responds through gritted teeth. You sigh, he always loved talking about you two's meals. Saying how he wish he did things different, or that he loved the spices you added. But even that couldn't get him to speak again.

You're about to say something else when he suddenly stands up. Everyone looking up at him as he abruptly grabs his jacket.

"Taehyun?" You call out.

"I'm going home." He says, not even sparing you another look.

And you'd had it up to your ears with his attitude, your blood practically boiling. "Okay, then go."

And he looks back at you with a twinge of surprise evident on his face. You weren't going to ask him to stay? Or ask why he was so upset?

No you weren't. He wouldn't either after the way he's acted.

"I'm sick of all of you acting like this is normal. Like I don't have a right to be upset that my best friend knocked up my sister! Two of the most important people are starting a life that has no room for me!" He bursts, emotions pouring out.

"It's incredibly selfish of you to try and make everyone else miserable with you!" Sakura fires back. "I'm a grown adult, and I love Beomgyu. You are trying to make my baby all about you! I won't have my child around an uncle that sees them as an obstruction!"

"Then don't." And he walks towards your door. Slamming it on his way out, causing you to shrink in your seat.

It's silent for a couple seconds as Beomgyu runs his hands over his face. Sakura sitting back in her seat, obviously hurt.

Well this went to shit fast.

"He's taking this really hard." You speak up, attempting to defend him, when you're not even sure why.

"I know but I didn't expect him to react like this." Beomgyu says.

"He was so supportive of us dating too.." Sakura adds.

"Having a baby and dating are two different things." You remark, the two chuckling lightly.

"You can go after him, you know? We won't be mad." Sakura says, and she can tell that you so badly want to. But you surpress the feeling as you shake your head.

"He doesn't deserve it."

"He doesn't deserve you defending him either."

And you know she's right.

..

You don't talk to Taehyun for the rest of the week. Nothing so much as a text or phone call from him either. You feel somewhat hurt. You thought you two had grown an actual friendship, but it seemed so easy for him to cut you off. Like you had meant nothing.

It was all too familiar.

So it was ironic that you were slipping on your shoes to head to Choi Yeonjun's little birthday party. You had iced the cake that morning, taking extra long too, wanting to make a good last impression. That's right, last. You figured you really should just close things out on a good note. Seeing as you were struggling elsewhere, you figured you could do good with the one thing you had control over.

You put the cake in a little stand and headed straight for the front door. By the time you settled into your car, you see an incoming call from.. Taehyun?

"Hello." You say blankly as you bring your phone up to your ear.

"Can we talk?"

"Not unless you're ready to apologize."

"I am, please, can I come over?" He pleads.

"I'm busy tonight, remember?" You respond quietly.

"Then after?"

"Taehyun.." You trail. "I'm going to see Yeonjun."

You couldn't see him, but you could see his expression now. This would be like a slap in the face to him. Though, you knew your true intentions.

"Why?"

"I don't owe you any kind of explanation." You speak as you start your engine. Your stern take surprising even you. "I don't know when I'll be home, talk to you soon." You hang up the phone before he can get another word in. This night was going to take a bit out of you, and you didn't want Taehyun's intrusion to sour your time even more.

You just shake your head to yourself as you pull out of your driveway. The drive to Yeonjun's house is a short, familiar route. You wonder if this will be the last time you ever drive here.

You park next to what you recognize as Chaewon's car, wondering if she's aware that you're coming. Was Wooyoung? You throw the thought out of your head, it didn't matter if they knew or not. This was Yeonjun's day, and you were only here to make your last amends.

You can feel your hands somewhat shaking as you carry the cake to his front door. You couldn't believe you were back here after months. Would this change things? Would you fall back into them without the support of the others? And with the tornado that was your other group of friends? No, no you wouldn't. You would be strong, you got here through your own realizations. You were just here to suffice a last wish to one of your oldest, yet dying, friendships.

You knock gently on the door, unable to really ring the bell considering the cake that took both of your hands to hold.

The door swings open to reveal Wooyoung, the smile fading from his face as he see's you. He comes to a realization as he thinks out loud. "So that's why he said no booze."

Looking down at the cake in your hand, he moves to take it from you. But you're quick to brush him off as you smile awkwardly. "I got it."

And as you follow him into the house, you had confirmed the suspicion you had before. They hadn't known you were coming, and now you feel weird as everyone else might just think you decided to drop by.

Wooyoung moves some things off the kitchen counter so you can set the cake down, his hand grazing yours as he helps you put it down. You realize in that moment, that you felt nothing. It was a reassuring feeling, closure that your feelings had faded away. You weren't sure what to do with that information, but it did help anyways.

"Yeonjun, look who's here!" Wooyoung yells out to the living room.

The aforementioned is quick to stumble into the kitchen, eyes widening at your form. "You came!" He says, moving to look at the cake, almost like he didn't think you would. "It looks so good."

"That's what she said." Another voice remarked from behind him as they entered the area. It belonged to a male you'd never seen before, and a girl followed behind him on his arm. Were these new friends?

Yeonjun's quick to introduce you as a friend, to the new additions to their group, Mingi and Yunjin. Yunjin seems surprisingly ecstatic as your arrival, "Chaewon has told me so much about you! I've been wanting to meet you!"

"Yeah, Wooyoung say's you're the one who dyed his hair." Mingi speaks up.

"That was a long time ago." You say, you had only bleached it months ago. His new color was all due to his own touch ups and such.

"You got me something?" Yeonjun asks, looking at the bag hanging from your wrist. You had somewhat been at a loss of what to get him, only being able to use something your friend liked as reference.

"Uh," You stammer. "Taehyun say's they're like trending right now, so I picked one up for you."

Yeonjun smiles before taking the jacket out of the bag, his face lighting up. "I love it!"

And you grin, "I'm glad!"

"Taehyun? Like Kang Taehyun?" Yunjin qualms, quirking her head to the side. "Is he your boyfriend?"

You're about to shake your head when you stop yourself. "We're friends, I think."

"You think?" Wooyoung repeats.

"I-" You pause. "I don't know."

You really didn't, sure you guys could probably chalk up to close friends. But was that true? You looked out for each other a lot, but would Taehyun ever call you his friend? Would he?

But feelings were confusing. 'Cause at the same time, you felt maybe he could be something more to you. Something past the line of friends.

"He used to go to school with Mingi and I, super cool guy." Yunjin explains, smiling at you.

"Really?" Yeonjun says, sounding somewhat skeptical. "When I met him he was a sqaure."

"Hey," You say sternly. "He's fun."

Yeonjun backs off, quickly trying on his jacket. "Just saying."

"How do you not know what he is to you?" Wooyoung teases.

"I guess I never thought to ask."

"Yeonjun! I swear if I have to- Oh." Chaewon stops herself as she walks into the room. Spotting you as she all but gasps. "Hey."

"Hi." You manage to get out quietly.

Chaewon crosses her arms, "So are we like.."

You shake your head slowly. "Yeonjun just asked me to be here, to say bye, I guess?"

"Bye? Are you moving?" Yunjin asks.

"Something like that." You smile reminiscently. It would be easy to word it that way. You were moving, away from this life.

"Did you bake the cake?" Chaewon looks over at you.

You nod softly.

She smiles.

...

The night went better than you had imagined. You guys did stupid things like playing board games and telling stories. You warming up to everyone rather quickly. Nothing was awkward either, no one mentioned anything about your fight or sudden distance. It was just a normal hangout, minus the drugs of course.

The boys were currently playing a round of some video game on Yeonjun's tv when the girls huddle in the kitchen. Chaewon drinking sprite and Yunjin taking hits from her vape as you spot the tattoo donning her arm.

"That's badass." You say, her tilting her inner arm towards you so you can see it better.

"Thanks, Mingi has a matching one."

"You have couple tattoos?" You ask.

"Yup. We were wasted when we got them though, don't recommend."

And you just laugh. "That's.. admirable."

"Her and Mingi have been dating for like 6 years." Chaewon explains, your eyes widening.

"That's so cute." You grin, and it genuinely was.

"So what about you? Anyone special?" Chaewon smirks.

You sigh. "I'm not sure."

"Is it Taehyun?" Yunjin questions.

"Why do you say that?"

"I can tell by the way you've been talking about him like all night." Yunjin states. "Like earlier when Wooyoung brought up that new restaurant and you said you and Taehyun had already tried it. Or when you talked about the time you two went bowling. Or how about-"

"I think she gets it." Chaewon interrupts, laughing at the expression on your face.

Had you really talked about him that much? "I guess we just spend a lot of time together." You shrug.

"More like all your time." Yunjin winks.

Realization might as well have slammed you in the face. Maybe it would be more gentle to get by a bus than this. Did you like Taehyun? Is that why this was all so confusing?

You open your mouth to respond when Mingi comes barreling into the room, "Who want's to watch scary Youtube videos since it's midnight."

"Midnight?!" You exclaim, and as you check your phone, it confirms it is indeed about ten past midnight. "I should get home."

"Awee," Chaewon pouts. "But we're having so much fun."

"I'm sorry. I have something I need to do." You apologize.

"When will we see you again?" Yunjin pouts as she leans into her boyfriends side.

Chaewon grows silent as do Wooyoung and Yeonjun when they approach. All awaiting your answer, those three being the only ones who know why you're hesitating. Yeonjuns eyes light up expectantly. "You're welcome anytime."

You nod. "I don't know, when I have time, maybe."

But the three know what that means. "Thank you for coming. I had a good time, and I hope you did too."

"I did." You ease, grabbing your purse. You bid them goodbye, and Yeonjun pulls you in for a hug. Wooyoung follows as well, with Chaeown practically crushing you with her embrace.

"Until next time." Yeonjun nods, you trying not to notice the tears forming on his face.

"Yeah." You mutter.

Now, in the safety of your car, in your apartments parking lot. You want to bang your head against the steering wheel. Were you a fool? A fool for abandoning your closest friends? Or a fool for reuniting with them after you promised yourself you were done? You won't cry, you won't cry, oh. You're crying, but only a little.

You push all thoughts to the back of your mind, ready for a hot shower and bed. Just wanting to be freed from your thoughts for a little while.

Though that's all thrown out the window when you spot Kang Taehyun waiting at your front door. You just stop in your tracks, scoffing. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk."

"So you waited here the whole time?"

"The whole time." He confirms, pacing back and forth.

You step to unlock your door, him waiting outside as you step in. You turn and gesture for him to follow you, giving him permission to enter. In all honesty, you were drained and did not have to deal with whatever it was that Taehyun was so upset about.

Especially now that you felt you didn't know where you stood with him? Yeah this was a wreck.

"So," You begin. "What did you come all this way for?"

"I've been thinking, a lot. About a lot of things, like my sister and my best friend. And about you." He stops. "We haven't talked in a while."

"It's been a few days." You tsk, annoyance taking over. "This couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

Taehyun ignores you as he continues. "I've been miserable these past couple of days, and not just because of everything else that's been happening."

"Go on." You sigh.

"I think I love you." He reveals, eyes blown as he looks up at you.

"Don't say that." You whisper, avoiding looking at him. He couldn't be serious, how could you not have seen it? Because he couldn't be. No, Taehyun was just confused. He was trying to cope, and he was confusing his platonic appreciation for you as romance. That was the only viable explanation.

"Don't say what? The truth?" He speaks up, looking almost offended. He had just bared his heart to you, and you won't even hear him out?

"You're upset." You breathe. "You're upset and you're deflecting."

"What does that have to do with-"

"You're just happy I'm here." You cut him off as you fumble with your hands, scrambling to rationalize this."Your life is changing, and I'm just a constant. If it had been anyone else, you would have confessed too."

"That's not true." Taehyun speaks out in denial. "If you want to reject me just do it, but don't say my feelings aren't real."

"Oh c'mon!" You throw your hands up. "You don't love me! Do you even remember what you said to me when we met?!"

"You're not that person." He responds, exasperated. "I was an asshole to you because I thought I knew you. Nothing can excuse that but-"

"So what?" You interrupt once again. "You know me for a few months and now you think you've got me all figured out?!"

"Why won't you just accept it?!" He fires back. "I love you."

You stay silent, throwing your head back as you listen. He said he loved you, and you hated how your heart skipped a beat.

"And don't say it's not real because it is. I'm in love with you, not the person you've pretended to be. I love the way you care for me, the way you know how to cheer me up, the way you force me out of my shell. I love simple things like your hair, your smile, your sense of humor, and everything else." He pauses as he stares at your silent figure. "I've never felt this way about anyone."

You won't even face him, opting to look towards the ground. This was all too much for one night.

He stands as he fights back tears. "Are you going to sit here and tell me you don't feel it too?"

You have to lie. You can't accept his confession. You can't be in love with Kang Taehyun. You won't allow yourself to be.

The last time you fell in love with a friend, you ruined everything.

"We're too different-" You calmly start.

"No we're not, you said it yourself." He speaks truthfully. "And so what if we are? We could work through differences because that's what people in love do."

People in love?

"What if this ruins everything?" You tear up. "What if we don't work?"

"Then we worry about that later." Taehyun responds.

You take a seat on your couch, head in your hands. "There's just so much going on right now."

He cuts in before you keep going. "I know, and not having you by side made me realize how much I need you."

"Why? You're the strong guy here, I'm just the weak one who keeps falling back into her old-"

"Hey," He stops you. "I understand why you went to see Yeonjun. He was your friend for a long time, it can be hard to say no. I don't care if you hang out with them, as long as you're staying true to who you are."

You grab his hand from where it sits beside you on the couch. Holding it between yours as you wipe your tears with your other hand. "We can do this right?"

His eyes flicker to yours as he nods softly.

So you kiss him, and it feels right. Like you were meant to be here, kissing Taehyun at one in the morning. The both of you with tears in your eyes, but no care in the world besides each other.

There were still problems, yes. But they weren't going to be solved right now, you couldn't do anything, so you'd leave it up to the universe to worry about that. It's incomplete, yet you know everything will be okay in the end.

Much like real life.

-

#taehyun #taehyun imagines #taehyun x reader #kang taehyun x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu choi #txt yeonjun #wooyoung #yunjin #mingi #chaewon #sakura #taehyun txt #tomorrow x together fic #txt fic #txt imagines #txt imagine #txt series #txt scenarios #txt taehyun

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!? Do Cozmez actually Trust each other !? ☆ (VD predictions)

- Hey! After reading through the lyrics for Trust Nobody, I feel like it's being strongly hinted that Nayuta is getting tired of Kanata's attitude towards certain things while Kanata is very stressed thanks to his PTSD. I believe there's an insane mix of unfortunate events going on that made stuff turn out this way. Even though I can't understand the VD (where are the people who sub those istg) just the overall vibes and lyrics of Trust Nobody lend me to believe this is the case. So let's speculate about what's going on!!

☆ Part #1 ☆ The lack of Trust (based on Trust Nobody lyrics)

- If you pay attention to the subs, it looks like there's a constant discussion going on through the whole song. Every Kanata verse keeps talking about all the stuff they've gone through as brothers, and how he doesn't Trust anyone besides Nayu. While Nayu acknowledges this, he still pretty much says the opposite about Trust. We have quotes from him like:

"It can't be helped that all can't be mutually understood, pushing values and correctness onto each other, there's no way that can be called Trust. As long as we live, there'll be a difference in our strides."

- Nayuta believes there's no trust between him and Kanata, and that's completely normal. They haven't seen each other for 2 years, Kanata had to deal with strong trauma and changed a lot overtime, while Nayuta was pretty much frozen in time and his life just restarted. Nayuta was used to the old Kanata, so he seems to be bothered by current Kanata. I'm guessing Kanata has been very overprotective (as usual) and trying to force some ideas onto him (like for example, try and make him NOT trust anyone but him). I don't think Nayu can measure just how miserable Kanata becomes when they have disagreements, but he does know he usually starts having a breakdown, so he probably doesn't know how to go around it without getting a frustrating outcome (for him) of Kanata leaving him mid sentence or just exploding on his face. This isn't anyone's fault, they just need to talk it out, but considering Kanata's stubbornness, its really hard for Nayu to even try.

☆ Part #2 ☆ The consequences of Fame? (based on VD sample)

***I'm pretty sure the first part is actually happening, but this part is more based on speculation and what I can gather from the VD without subs, take this with a grain of salt.

- For context, the VD sample seems to begin in an interview. The interviewer brings up Buraikan, which annoys the twins, but especially Kanata. After Buraikan mention, interviewer says another thing which greatly offends Kanata and leads him to complain with Nayuta, who tries to calm him down so they can continue, but Kanata just left all together leaving Nayuta by himself. After this, Kanata encounters some fans, featuring a kid and some girl invading his privacy and taking pics. Kanata reacts violently which scares the fans, until Iori comes to the rescue. SO for what I can gather Kanata seems to not be taking the fame too greatly, which can also impact Nayu's annoyance towards his attitude as of late. Kanata's mind must be pretty busy just by dealing with the stress of being with the REAL Nayu, who's a changing human being (not an illusion now) and is way harder to protect of something like that incident happening again and just the outside world, and this with going to interviews that bring out other artists all the time and pretty much ignore Kana's efforts for achieving his dreams + fans harassing him must be really messing with his mental state, which ends up harming Nayu since Kanata seems to be in a terrible mood without Nayuta knowing why. This can also be a factor as to why Kanata acted the way he did and their overall lack of trust, since

Kanata can't trust Nayuta to survive alone and Nayuta can't trust Kanata to let him live and explore by himself.

- Okay so, this is all I have!! We'll see how close I was when the actual VD releases.... Shiver me timbers. I love analysing Kanata but it's 3am so excuse any grammar errors or typos. 😭😭

#paradox live #pararai #cozmez #kanata yatonokami #nayuta yatonokami #trust nobody #i love him #valittletheories

[aspiring-holistic-otaku]

Ramble#9

My main focus here is on samurai manga…

top 5 samurai manga read this month:

#5. Kurozuka by Baku Yumemakura on story and Takashi Noguchi on art

This is a story that takes samurai, crosses it with vampires and kind of just illustrates how far those two can go, It’s based on real 2 life guys, maybe even considered legends in Japan with a bridge and statue dedicated to them and everything, Yoshitsune Minamoto and Saito Benkei

Basically, the story starts with them trying to escape some pursuers in the mountains and in doing so they end up unwittingly shacking up with a vampire, a lady vampire,,, and shit just gets crazy from there…

Don’t wanna get too into it cause 1 it’s number 5 and 2 tbh the story wasn’t all that outside the romanticism and dark sides of immortality, but what I can say is that the illustration over the eras that pass and how a dude with a sword, a samurai, changes over the millenia was pretty cool to see…

Pretty rad action, decent enough story wrapped up in just 40 chapters, kind of a mid cast but i loved the concept and its illustration..

For all you anime folks it does have a 12 episode anime but I can’t speak on that adaptation and its quality, differences etc. at all.

#4. Gintama by Hideaki Sorachi

Super popular in hella anime and manga circles, in a lot of top 10s n 5s and If you haven’t heard of it well don’t worry the world’s full of information you don't know so continue to enjoy the journey...

Anyways… Gintama… is a story… that unfortunately I can’t speak on too confidently as I haven’t finished but despite a valiant attempt to in one month while reading a bunch of other stuff, I got to 200sumthn out of 709… but yh…

Gintama is set in futuristic japan but still somehow having a shadow of the edo period mixed in, meant to give a new take on the real life events of japan’s borders opening, foreigners coming in and that essentially leading to the downfall of the samurai, except the foreigners here are literal aliens. The story follows a samurai that previously fought in the war to keep japan alien free who’s now a dead beat, sakata gintoki, a young aspiring samurai whose dad died and left him a dojo in a world where swords are banned, shimura shinpachi, and a pretty much orphaned humanoid teen alien named kagura, all just barely scraping by with doing a bunch of very odd jobs.

VERY HILARIOUS, and so far largely a gag manga but it flips the serious switch very well and what I really like about it is that unlike a lot of other samurai mcs and characters, these guys, especially the central mc of the trio, sakata gintoki, have zero ambition, but constantly stress and fight to the death with swords to rubber chickens to protect their simple way of life. This is exemplified by the words shinpachi’s dying father left him in the very first chapter “Even if there comes a time when you must throw away your sword, never throw away the sword you have resting in your soul.”

I know it builds into an amazing story where almost every character they ever interact with pitches in and I'm probably underselling like crazy but if you want something samurai but samurai like you've never seen, check it out, I hear it’s worth the time and so far that’s proving to be so over the top gags and all.

Anime peps the anime is complete with 201 episodes.

#3. Sengoku Youko by Satoshi Mizukami (mangaka of spirit circle, Lucifer and the biscuit hammer and more)

Technically not a samurai story, leaning more into fantasy but it's in that era and a ronin is in the main cast so bite me and my list ig…

Anyways this is an epic that somehow does an incredible extensive story in 100 chapters and it's not too surprising given the mangaka (seriously check out spirit circle, i’ll never stop talking about it, my favourite manga ever at just 46 chapters and Lucifer at the biscuit hammer which is pretty up there as well, which finally got an anime adaptation this year with 65 chapters).

The story follows a demon named Tama trying to bring peace to the world traveling the land with a human named Jinka who's trying to become a demon and hates humans, but because of his love for demons does whatever Tama tells him to. Further than the usual “what is strength?” question that you could say the way of the sword tends to boil down to, this story looks at the question of “what is a human?”, as the duo run into other humans and demons with their own perspectives and characteristics.

Unfortunately it’s pretty hard to sell it more without getting excited and blabbing it all but brilliant story (admittedly with a little bit of a choppy start), great cast and cast dynamic, dope action, average but fitting art, highly recommended.

Side note, this had one of the coolest, if not THE coolest dragon depictions and fights I've ever seen in manga.

#2. Ichigeki aka one hit kill by Jiro Matsumoto

This was honestly an unexpected banger, as in, my firm philosophy is that by definition the average manga is average so you gotta just be thankful for bangers when they come but even so, especially for how short it was I was blown away.

The basic premise is that some peasants are brought in from the countryside to get some quick training in the sword and used as a throwaway one time hit squad but after they survive and show some promise, they're trained more seriously and sent on increasingly important but increasingly dangerous missions.

What I really love is how this story really highlights the caste system of the time, sounds weird to say but a lot of samurai manga mainly focus on the samurai class and up which I think paints this picture that some people just chose to pick up swords and others didn't, when really for the most part a lot of that was predetermined by birth. There were organized schools that only accepted certain families and it was only in extreme off chance cases that a peasant could even get their hands on a sword much less get formal training.

But yh, story and pacing was great and would even call it phenomenal (especially relative to the length), brilliant cast and cast dynamic, really loved the way the peasants viewed themselves and were viewed by others over time as they became more established, great action and pretty dope art, absolute banger in only 49 chapters, highly recommend.

#1. Kozure Ookami aka Lone wolf and cub by Kazuo Koike on story and Goseki Kojima on art

This is a actually apparently a classic samurai epic and when I say epic I'm not using it loosely just to say it's good which it is, but when I say epic I mean to think along the lines of the Iliad or dante’s inferno.

The story follows a famed samurai, ogami itto, official executioner appointed by the shogun (really big fukn deal), framed, defamed and now turned assassin traveling the land on the path of revenge with his son daigoro.

Now if you're familiar with epics you'll know they're quite long and tbh when I started I was a bit confused like why is this dude out here carrying out assassinations with an infant? and is every chapter just gonna be him killing randoms? do I really need to know the name and history of EVERY prefecture like fr???? (really reminded me of that one chapter of the Iliad where they just listed everybody and their moms from athens)

A little bit of a slow start for me especially as the mc was just super stoic, the ideal samurai if you will but it's through that we see his character and what a true bushi/samurai is. Through any danger and challenge he sees his duty through to the end. Even the decision not to kill in the face of certain death. Wildly enough his kid is not a prop at all as watching his father over time he picks up his habits and has his own adventures.

The action isn't the smoothest but it perfectly captures that old samurai flick vibe, phenomenal aesthetic that becomes even more exceptional in the final few arcs and some of the greatest dialogue around the meaning of Bushido I've ever seen. A small example I'll give is in a duel he has with another fallen samurai, he’s asked what the right thing to do would be when caught in an ambush. Standing by his lord’s side and defending them or leaving his lord’s side to take the initiative in battle, both with equal chances of success.

It's 142 chapters but because almost every chapter, especially early on, is isolated and almost feels like a movie, it can be a bit of a rough read but definitely worth it. (actually started last year and read the second half this month).

hm: tenkaichi, elusive samurai, gantz:e, sengoku strays

top 5 samurai manga before this year

#5. Gamaran by Yousuke Nakamaru

I almost want to say hunter x hunter but for samurai but the only real similarity is the mc trying to find his dad + in this he's trying to kill him cause they basically pulled an itachi and killed his squad.

I love this manga but again number 5 so I'm not trying get too into it plus it's really for the most part a battle tourney, nothing against tourneys but fight fi*azP_Qzght fight gets a litlle tired over the years yk?

Now why this is top5 is that along with really great art I really loved the detail put into the choreography and technique of the fights, as in alot of times sword fights, if they're not basically pokemon battles can be bland despite the contextual meaning and weight of it all. Like it's hard to really differentiate one swordsman from another midfight because outside of their stances they all just look like they're swinging swords pretty much the same way and on occasion shouting random stuff, especially in manga, but maybe that’s just me idk… But gamaran takes the time to illustrate the characteristics of each style, strengths, weaknesses, body motions, etc, to really give almost every fight a real definitive feel

solid story despite what I said about tourneys, great art, pretty dope cast, amazing action and only 194 chapters

There’s also an ongoing sequel called Gamaran: Shura but that only has 25 chapters so far and hasn’t really gotten anywhere yet

4. Sidooh by Tsutomu Takahashi

This story follows two brothers whose mother dies in front of them as kids, leaving them with the last words "It is the fate of the weak to die", giving them an obsession with strength that leads them to claw their way up into the ranks of society

Really great pacing, great story and amazing aesthetic, an interesting art style that's a bit inky for lack of a better word but goes really well with sword strokes and stuff like that + some of the hardest drip I've ever seen on folks in that period and some of the meanest stare downs I’ve ever seen.

It's complete with 269 chapter but only 250 are translated to English, if you've been listening for awhile this is where I usually say fuck the french cause they usually have more manga chapters translated than others in general but hate is lame and all I need to do is step up and translate shit myself if I really want to yk so yh, sorry France, all my hate towards you will solely because of colonialism and especially what you've done to Haiti. fuck France and fuck imperialism

3. Vagabond by tajehiko inoue ( mangaka of slam dunk and real)

This is something I'm always hesitant to mention because it's so good but is almost certainly never going to be completed and there's so much other great works to see but this is a definitive work of art and it'd be criminal to leave it off the list.

This story is based on the life of miyamoto musashi, a legendary swordsman, legendary, as his feats for a self taught peasant are just incredible, in real life this eventually culminated in him founding his own sword school, the Niten ichi Ryu (roughly translated to two heavens as one) but the manga doesn't really get to that bit.

Probably by far the greatest art in this list, Inoue is a master of the craft, and the investigation of the way of the sword and what it means to be unrivaled under heaven via musashi's travels and encounters with other known legends like the yagyu and itto ryu is truly enlightening.

Brilliant characters and character dynamics, stunning art that can never be understated, brilliant dialogue, very engaging fights, just an all round brilliant manga…

Besides the fact that a chapter hasn't come out in about 7yrs… I cry… 327 chapters out and translated if you can handle it…

2. Shigurui aka death frenzy by Takayuki Yamaguchi

This was only 84 chapters but in case the name didn't give it away it gets pretty wild

The story revolves around the participants in the first fight of a deathmatch tournament, one being blind and limp while the other only has one arm. We're shown the events that led to them being chosen to fight and what they continue to swing their swords for in spite of their condition, and both having started out as students of the same sword school.

Lots of tragedy packed in here, lots of gore, very clean art, pretty dope fights, solid cast, and a brilliant story that really illustrates the sometimes unbecoming struggle that is being samurai.

1. Blade of the immortal by Hiroaki Samura

bro... just trust me on this one....

I Know this is about manga but 3 Anime movies I gotta mention are: sword of the stranger, Lupin the IIIrd: The Blood Spray of Goemon Ishikawa and ninja scroll

listen in to hear my top 5 swordsmen

#just another day #mm..manga #way of the sword #manga #kurozuka #gintama #sengoku youko #ichigeki #lone wolf and cub #gamaran #sidooh #vagabond #shigurui #blade of the immortal #samurai #writeup

[hereliesbitches--me]

 has your muse ever felt as though they’ve been reborn ?  have they ever desired the feeling of a fresh start ,   or a better understanding of themself and/or the world around them ?  

Random Asks (ALWAYS ACCEPTED)

A consistent theme I have for Iniquitous Essence (IE) and its main cast of character revolves heavy around the way they develop and change as people based on the world and the drastic events that warp them. Focusing on the big two of this blog, lets deep dive:

Rosie Valentine

Considering her to be one of the primary leads of IE, she is a character whose entire theme is about "dying" and being reborn again and again as something new that can survive in the environment Shes been forced into. The symbolic catalyst for these changes, Ironically, being flame and chaos. Depending on the era in which you meet her, Rosie is a very different person: from childhood, her days in the calvary, her time in Tennessee, to the well-known "Unbreakable Sphinx" hero facade Shes picked up now late in life. The designated marking points of being "reborn" is at the cusp of each of these life phases -- so lets talk about the very first

The first time she felt she was reborn, letting the old life die and the new one rise from its ashes was when she initially left the calvary. Left it, I should mention it, collapsing in on itself in a smoldering mass of corpses of soldiers, monsters, and melting tech alike. She had set up the detonation that caved the entirety of the base underground, and she'd killed off every one of her former teammates to make sure there was no ties to say this version of her had ever existed at all. Up until that point, Rosie can say she had no discernable personality of her own. Her life from 14 to 22 was spent in perpetual survival mode as she was preyed upon, manipulated, beaten down on, and overall had no real hope for what a future could look like for someone like her. What was the point of it when all she wanted was to die? For a small era she had almost had a blip of hope when Kasimir came along, promised her that they'd break away from this, be heroes and have a family together. And for once in her life she believed it

But even that was short lived and decimated right before her eyes when kasimir was cast out of the Calvary unit. 17 years old back in the jaws of the wolves and no one to save her anymore. She miscarried the baby they were suppose to have.. then that point on marked the ascension of change.

When Rosie watched that base burn down, where all her tormentors got an express early preview ticket of Hell she thought they belonged to, it was the very first time in her life that she felt she could breathe. The first time she felt like she was waking up as a person... and now had to discover who she was outside of being a victim or a soldier. The old Rosita Roselyn had died in a mechanical malfunction that killed hundreds of soldiers, priests, and demons in a blazing pit of meat and molten metal, no one suspected who was the real cause of it... she was free, reborn to be who she pleases.

Unfortunately for her, the first run of the person she chose to be was not perfect or as good as she wanted to be. Which leads to the second evolution: When did she desire a fresh start?

An 6 year era following the end of the calvary, Rosie lived in Tennessee as a caretaker for a monster she stole from that very base she destroyed, Nikki (A character for an entirely separate post to talk about). The personality Rosie developed with her newfound freedom was not really a person, but rather an agglomeration of personality aspects and traits she had picked from a variety of the significant figures in her life, and the biproduct of her divided psyche coping with the sudden and drastic change from survival mode to... person mode. Rosie never really got out of survival mode... instead she became good at pretending. To be the friendly deputy of a small town everyone could rely on, while behind the scenes she was still as calculative and manipulative as she needed to be to ensure the safety of herself and Nikki. Even if it meant harming Nikki with lies and guilt to keep her safe. For her own good, Rosie tells herself. If she has everything under control, they are safe.

In this same era, she discovers new feelings of love for a waitress -- but is it really love, or projection of longing for what was? Love and lies dont really go hand in hand, neither does paranoia and distrust. So driven to keep everything under control, convinced she can keep what she loves safe by being this monster, Rosie ends up being the cause of her own downfall as things spiral out of her control. Nikki found and saved by the father of her children, the waitress she adored suddenly very aware of the monster Rosie is slowly revealing herself to be and leaves her for her fellow deputy, the very same deputy that closes in in preparation to reveal the serial killer that Rosie Is ; Then she was alone again. Everything that she held dear and tried so hard to protect slipping past her fingers. Because she lacked the ability to realize she was suffocating them in her palms and digging in with her claws.

Left to her own accord, she realizes the person she made herself to be at that time was a mistake... So what was there left to do? Allow herself to be caught, or follow Nikki and try again?

Too much to be done, she couldn't afford she be caught or to die... at the very least, she could try to do right this time around. Gain forgiveness by helping from afar. ' Her move to New York at age 28 marks yet another transformative era of rebirth, shedding the skin and bad habits of her old life to improve herself. Give up her obsession with control and take initiative to make meaningful relationships outside of what she needs people for. Be... kind. Gain a sense of humor. Give herself worth outside of being a soldier and a fighter.

She becomes the beloved Sphinx, the friend and maternal figure that will always have your back and defend you from dangers. Give you a way out. Curbed her more violent instincts like the monster of Tennessee and the calvary days had never existed. But its not truly dead. She is a mom now in her 40s -- she's tired, but endlessly giving. She does the best she can to make everyone happy because they deserve it. And she takes the torment and the punishment because that's what monsters deserve. That is how justice is served. It's what she is good for.

Jacob McCool

While less dramatic in his developmental stages, Jacob is another main cast in IE whose development is more so in terms of emotional maturity. The massive heavy hitter we see now was once just an orphaned kid that was lost in the foster system. Mistreated because of an inherent strength he didn't have the experience or know-how to control. Deemed a liar because he heard things talking, heard sounds that no one else did. The lack of support had led him down a path of delinquency for the sake of survival. He didn't always have the ability to solidify his muscle into weapons and claws and armor. He was always big, always fast and stronger than the average person. But still just a cocky teenager like anyone else his age. If no one would believe him, he would be the monster child they painted him to be. For most of his early teens he was a delinquent, got in with the wrong crowd to run paraphernalia for a good chunk of cash. Not that he was any good at money management, but he ate whatever he liked and lived in the bare minimum of abandoned places to pass his time. Things went well... up until he was the unknowing goods being traded up. Betrayed by his own boss, a 17-year-old Jacob is tied up and sold off to a military division who want to unlock the full potential of his power to replicate it. Prodded, cut open, beaten down, pumped full of chemicals, assaulted -- all trials to push the limit of his capabilities, to activate that hidden gene that angels have that he knows nothing about. He could have been there for days to months to years -- he had no real sense of passing time as he hung onto life. til the day those desired abilities they tortured him for finally activated.

They got what they wanted but did not account what could be done with those powers in the hands of a starving half rabid animal. The details are blurry to him; just a slideshow of red, a symphony of gunfire, squelching meat, crunching bones, twisting metal, and gurgled screams. Then he's suddenly out in the open air, breathing in that fresh city smog -- a new freak of nature, with bulging muscles that took the gunfire like plastic pellets and claws that ripped through steel and meat like paper. Whatever he was before he was dragged down to that pit had died successfully and what came out was something new, something worse, that they could never beat. A man with a newfound fear of needles and the pungent stench of hospitals, ever angrier, ever more distrusting, knowing the only one who will look out for him is himself. Newly reborn Abaddon as they'll come to call him.

The desire for a fresh start comes further down the line, as paths cross and his life is yet again turned upside down by the arrival of his own children he thought to have died in the womb. Sometime in his early 20s he had met a 17-year-old Nikki, and it had only been a year before their relationship fell apart following the perceived death of what would have been their twins. Rejected and blamed by Nikki and told to leave, emotionally immature as he was, he did exactly what he was told. Angry and heartbroken but unwilling to compromise if that's what she wanted from him. For nearly 10 years he had drowned himself in a career in underground fighting for cash. Made himself friends in Rocky and Guts, and tried to forget about anything that had to do with the pretty girl that broke his heart. Then out of the blue a little girl shows up -- has his scowling face and unruly hair, but all too familiar beauty of a woman he never forgot. At first in denial, an absolute dick to this kid he thought was yet another government trap to catch him, it's with the coaxing (verbal berating, maybe getting smacked in the back of the skull a few times) of his friends that gets him to face the music that he is in fact a dad. And he has a moral obligation to find his whole family, save them, and bring them all back together.

But life is never quite that simple, is it? Its always nice at first. A spree of excitement for something new, something different, and something familiar. Here he had his girl back, had kids... and he had no fuckin idea how to be a dad or a husband. In typical jacob fashion, he fucks it up too.

He comes to realize that people don't always grow and stay compatible with each other... for all the love he had for Nikki, she had grown into a woman of her own, and he has still stayed that immature boy who only knew how to save the day and nothing else after he gets the girl. It costs him everything. What good was he if he could not make her happy? If she was always disappointed in his inability to keep up with her in conversation and interest?

After getting a job within the angel project thanks to Rosie, he takes it in stride that his family is better off when hes not around to ruin everything. He leaves them the house, still pays the bills and picks up the kids every other week, and finds a different place to bunk.

A fresh start comes only after you have everything to gain and nothing else to lose. In finding out he has a family; he sets out on a journey to be the better man both Nikki and his twins need him to be. Even if it means coparenting from afar. There was more to life than just food and fighting to see tomorrow.

#:headcanons: #:answered: #:The Unbreakable Sphinx (Rosie Valentine): #:Abaddon (Jacob McCool): #thank you so much for the development question!!

[rphelperblog]

The Night Circus Book Quote Rp Meme

inspired by @tricohven​ based on the book by the same name- feel free to edit quotes or change pronouns for rp purposes

“The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones.”

“People see what they wish to see. And in most cases, what they are told that they see.”

“The past stays on you the way powdered sugar stays on your fingers. Some people can get rid of it but it’s still there, the events and things that pushed you to where you are now.”

"This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it. Look around you,

“Is magic not enough to live for?"

“People are naive about such things, and they would rather write them off as evil than attempt to understand them. An unfortunate truth, but a truth nonetheless.”

“Trespassers will be exsanguinated.”

“I believe you have my umbrella"

“Better to have a single perfect diamond than a sack of flawed stones.”

"You appear the same way to me, so which of us is real?”

“You believe you could not live with the pain. Such pain is not lived with. It is only endured. I am sorry.”

'There may be decisions to make and surprises in store. Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that

“That's the beauty of it. Have you seen the contraptions these magicians build to accomplish the most mundane feats? They are a bunch of fish covered in feathers trying to convince the public they can fly, I am simply a bird in their midst.”

“This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it.”

“Wine is bottled poetry.”

“I suggest you keep your distance from her and concentrate on your own work.”

“I cannot let a place that is so important to so many people fade away. Something that is wonder and comfort and mystery all together that they have nowhere else. If you had that, wouldn't you want to keep it?”

“I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held.”

“...have a theory that she is in love with the dream of someone and not an actual person.”

“Nothing's impossible,"

“It will make the challenge a great deal more difficult for you.”

“And there are really never endings, happy or otherwise.”

“Timing is a sensitive thing.”

"Love is fickle and fleeting.It is rarely a solid foundation for decisions to be made upon, in any game.”

“Most maidens are perfectly capable of rescuing themselves in my experience, at least the ones worth something, in any case.”

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.”

“Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that.”

“We lead strange lives, chasing our dreams around from place to place.”

“But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.”

“I have tried to let you go and I cannot. I cannot stop thinking of you. I cannot stop dreaming about you.”

“You're in the right place at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that's enough.”

“I would have written you, myself, if I could put down in words everything I want to say to you. A sea of ink would not be enough.' 'But you built me dreams instead.”

“The most difficult thing to read is time. Maybe because it changes so many things.”

“Good and evil are a great deal more complex than a princess and a dragon . . . is not the dragon the hero of his own story?”

People don’t pay much attention to anything unless you give them reason to”

“I made a wish on this tree years ago,"

“I couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what I wanted to be real.”

"But I remember the people who look at me the way you do."

"As though they cannot decide if they are afraid of me or they want to kiss me."

“I have been surrounded by love letters you two have built each other for years, encased in tents.”

“Everything I have done, every change I have made to that circus, every impossible feat and astounding sight, I have done for her.”

“The truest tales require time and familiarity to become what they are.”

“I think looking forward will be better than looking back.”

“I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better appreciate the dark.”

“We must put effort and energy into anything we wish to change.”

“I am haunted by the ghost of my father, I think that should allow me to quote Hamlet as much as I please.”

“But you built me dreams instead.”

“I mean only that I hope they find darkness or paradise without fear of it, if they can.

“I don't think there's anything wrong being a dreamer.”

"I think I made an analogy about cake."

"Who doesn't like a good cake analogy?”

"you are not destined or chosen. I wish I could tell you that you were if that would make it easier, but it is not true. You are in the right place, at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that is enough.”

“It is difficult to see a situation for what it is when you are in the midst of it,It is too familiar. Too comfortable.”

“You prefer not to see the gears of the clock, as to better tell time.”

“You need to understand your limitations so you can overcome them.”

“And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister's story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.”

“Once they were librarians, but that is a subject they will only discuss if heavily intoxicated.”

“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world”

“Each of them always gravitating toward the other. Yet still they do not touch.”

“All empires fall eventually. It is the way of things.

“Memories begin to creep forward from hidden corners of your mind. Passing disappointments. Lost chances and lost causes. Heartbreaks and pain and desolate, horrible loneliness. Sorrows you thought long forgotten mingle with still-fresh wounds.”

“It is destroying me that I cannot ask you to dance.”

“This is, in part, why there is less magic in the world today. Magic is secret and secrets are magic, after all, and years upon years of teaching and sharing magic and worse. Writing it down in fancy books that get all dusty with age has lessened it, removed its power bit by bit.”

“It is likely to make us think we are not caged. We cannot feel the bars unless we push against them.”

“So it’s really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.”

“A woman I should like to think I know rather well and a woman I had always considered a mystery, are in fact the same person.”

“Only the ship is made of books, its sails thousands of overlapping pages, and the sea it floats upon is dark black ink.”

“Like stepping into a fairy tale under a curtain of stars.”

“You think, as you walk away from Le Cirque des Rêves and into the creeping dawn, that you felt more awake within the confines of the circus. You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream.”

“I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held. Trying to control what cannot be controlled. I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix. They will break no matter what we do.”

“If she were gone I would be nothing. You should think better of yourself than to settle for that.”

Unusual yet beautiful. Provocative while remaining elegant.”

“I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix. They will break no matter what we do”

“Perhaps it is controlling the chaos within more than the chaos without.”

“The rain increases and umbrellas sprout like mushrooms amongst the graves.”

“Striving for uniqueness in a world of sameness”

"It is a long and complicated story."

“How are you managing to keep everyone from aging?”

“The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.

“Are we going to discuss whatever it is you are here to discuss instead of dancing around it?”

“I didn't know your identity, but I had an impression of who my opponent was, being surrounded by things you made.”

#erin morgenstern #the night circus #young adult books #literate roleplay #roleplay meme #ask meme #rp meme #memes #open to all #open to suggestions #Open to anything #open to anyone #open RP #open starter #open

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Ask game! Love it! For kintsugi: 2 (what scene did you first put down?) and 11 (what do you like best about this fic?). Also curious about 8 (did any real people or events inspire any part of it?) for both kintsugi and therianthropy. Thank you xx

Ayyyyyyy let's play the fun game of "syn answers her ask box hella late"

Kintsugi:

2: What scene did you first put down?

So, everything I write is written in the order that it is published in. I tried that thing where you write the scenes you want first and it's never worked well for me. So the strict answer of this is always "whatever scene was first in the fic" (in this case, Frank clearing out the human trafficking house). The first scene I came up with actually wasn't anything to do with frank--it started as a fun thing with Aaron Davis. The idea of Aaron ending up the unwilling and unhappy sidekick of necessity of spider-man was great to me. He's so upset about this development in his life. it's so funny to me.

In the end, the place I wanted to take that story was better served ultimately by the present version of the fic, and we, unfortunately, are not gonna see any of it/aaron's ultimate journey for like MULTIPLE installments of the series. the development is way better so it's better in the long run, but it's a big delay. but this started as "aaron davis is so aggrieved by this development in his life" and just spiraled into a different focus.

8: did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

So, not exactly. There's was no big "ah ha" moment where I got an inspirational kernel that became this fic. probably the biggest influence was the fact that I used to work with kids.

ABOUT KIDS:

they are so fucking tiny

I honestly just really needed to someone to not be cool with peter doing spider-man and fighting in germany? like. Peter was fourteen. he was SMALL. he still plays with legos. no one should be bringing him to or allowing him to be at any fights. Like, i wanna be clear, peter's not going to stop being spider-man, but people should have tried way harder to stop him from being spider-man. I really needed someone to say "haha, what, no, absolutely not, we are not fucking doing that" and frank castle was really the number one most likely candidate.

He's worked in Queens before where Peter operates, and he really fucking cares about kids. He goes to bat to protect children. He is the one who would be the absolute hardest sell on "fourteen year old superhero," so he needed to be the one that this journey came through.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

It lets me have characters at odds without having characters be necessarily wrong.

Like, I love character studies. I'm very much a character-driven writer. I always base everything in maintaining the personality and core values of the characters as the heart of my story. With this series, i get to do fun asides with character studies--glaze defects and porcelain chips--and they get to exist at the heart of a narrative where the characters still have to participate in and react to external stressors.

So I get to constantly pit the different character types against each other--like matt and frank. Matt and Frank have the same end goal in mind (Peter's wellbeing) but they're very much in conflict because their different core values can't be reconciled. And it's not necessarily that either of them are objectively wrong--it's just that they value completely different things. I definitely have one of them I agree with more (it's actually Matt) but that doesn't mean that Frank isn't completely right about a lot of his points too. It's more pitting different schools of thought or values against each other than having one character be the good character and one be the bad character. I dunno, it's just a really fun balance for me and I like it a lot.

I've really liked getting to explore peter's character in particular. I feel like a lot of MCU Peter's didn't go into his comic background/history with poverty? It became "haha kid wants to be superhero not go to high school" when really spider-man was the product of severe fucking trauma and peter was Not Okay when he made it. I dunno, i feel like people get tempted to water down peter's character because he started as a kid, as if kid's can't be complex characters on their own? and that doesn't mean he can't be fun or crack jokes or be immature at times--he can be! but it does his character a bit of a disservice to make it just "local boy gets superpowers, wants to be superhero like avengers." Like, if that was the only reasoning, then peter shouldn't have been spider-man. He should have burnt out and gone back to being a kid. this is a major choice and he needs to have actual cause to make it or it won't function narratively.

Therianthropy:

I think this is just supposed to be 8? Imma only answer 8.

8: did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

tiny tim from the christmas carol.

i've already talked a little bit on tumblr about the one line matt makes about Tiny Tim in therianthropy, but a big inspiration for matt's character and his anger specifically was that. i remember watching the Christmas Carol, and there was this part where Bob Cratchett is sitting at the dinner table and talking to his wife about tiny tim sitting at mass, and he tells of how Tim would get very quiet, and he would tell his father that he didn't mind it when people stared, because it may remind them of the good lord jesus who made lame men walk and blind men see. And then Tiny Tim gets to totter onto screen a minute later and just have a weird glow going around him, and he gets to make a few eternally loving and profound comments. His biggest effect on the audience is his own death and how tragic it was that such a fragile and pure soul passed on, and the elation that he was saved in the end through no agency of his own and was no longer disabled.

And like, once again, i'm not shitting on charles dickens. tiny tim was a literary device. Every fucking character was a literary device. All of them were representative of other things. that's just how books were back then. But i was watching it and the entire structure struck me as something that happens way too much in real life.

because like. I grew up catholic, and there were disabled people who went to the same church as me. I didn't personally know them, i was like, nine and didn't talk to people, but they were visibly disabled and just going to mass. And people would gather around after and talk about the less fortunate, something something the eternal love and mercy of jesus christ, oh they're doing their purgatory on earth, what a good soul they must have for forbearing through such great suffering, oh can you imagine, how difficult must be their life. anyway, i found it hugely insulting.

Like. these people were just going to fucking church and people took one look at them and talked openly about how much they pitied them. that's hugely insulting, and it's weird and infantilizing. like, you don't even know that person. why are you immediately deciding that they're some pure angelic soul eternally shining with the love of god that they somehow have in spades directly because of their great suffering. why are you immediately looking at a total fucking stranger's life and being like "oh, how tragic their life must be, what a gentle soul" like maybe their life is better than yours, deborah. we don't know because you never fucking bothered to talk to them before pitying them.

It's like. this weird game in catholicism where people love suffering and love to talk about how there's always someone else who suffers more and oh imagine being that person who suffers more and how well they bear it and basically always talking about random other people in terms of their suffering.

Matt's a blind catholic orphan. God, that poor man would have never had a minute's rest. He would have been eternally pitied and would have heard every word of it. like. can you imagine? he probably grew up hearing about how pathetic he was and something something the good lord jesus christ amen.

And there's probably people out there that take it with the grace of tiny tim! matt wouldn't. he'd be full of rage, actually.

like. he legitmately is smarter and more competent than anyone else in any given room he's in. he's deeply fucking capable and dangerous, and then he gets to go around and some random sunday school mom who can't go through the chick-fil-a drive thru without having a meltdown is talking about how pathetic he is. that's humiliating. he's better than everyone and he's still somehow always dismissed first. people have already designated him as their random token of suffering to infantilize and talk about how miserable and terrible his life must be after sunday services.

And matt's life is miserable and terrible! it's not because he's disabled! no! he's a self-destructive shithead with a flair for the dramatic and no impulse control! he has the agency to ruin his own life, actually! let's not blame the blindness! and also let's not say this out loud about strangers you've never met, actually!

I dunno, i haven't seen a lot of fics about Matt's disability. He's always blind, of course, and there's a few good ones out there that talk about his blindness, but I just haven't found a lot about how ableism and societal discrimination is a huge foundation of his character and a big source of rage. i wanted that to be big in therianthropy's matt.

#ask game #late ask games #therianthropy (and other goddamn lies) #the first step of kintsugi #ableism

[glorious-blackout]

When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love.

I was tagged by the lovely @elorianna, thank you! 🥰 I’m a pretty terrible judge of my own writing, especially in retrospect, but here are a few fics I’m fond of regardless:

1) You’ve Always Been Here

Mark knows he should be happy. He's the renowned owner of the most sought-after hotel in the galaxy, gets to perform onstage to adoring crowds every night, and can gaze up at Earth from the lunar surface whenever he pleases. And yet, he cannot shake the feeling that something is fundamentally wrong. All-consuming weariness takes hold as his mind is weighed down by memories which are not his own, and the mysterious stranger in the bar spouting mad theories about simulated realities isn't exactly helping matters.

Crossover between Arctic Monkeys' 'Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino' and Muse's 'Simulation Theory'.

I’m still a bit blown away by the love this story received considering it started out as a self-indulgent piece written for @rock-n-roll-fantasy, but it was enormous fun to write something original using only lyrics and music videos for inspiration as opposed to a pre-existing plot. I’m not ashamed to admit that this story dominated my mind for months 😅 It also marked the first time I dipped my toe into writing for the AM/TLSP fandom which led me to meet wonderful writers within that fandom, and for that I’ll always be grateful 🥰

2) Is This What You Wanted 

The world is in ruins. Alex has escaped Tranquility Base only to find himself trapped among the broken remains of his home, and on top of that, he's unable to determine if anything around him is even real or simply another fiction.Not that any of that matters. It's hard to care about the world ending when he gets to wake up in Miles' arms every morning.

Sequel to 'You've Always Been Here'.

Picking this may technically be cheating as it’s a sequel to my first choice, but the setting feels very different and I was faced with the unique challenge of trying to write a fix-it that didn’t negate the ending to the original. Not sure if I succeeded or not, but writing this one was just as fun (and all-consuming) as its predecessor. It also should be noted that this fic wouldn’t exist without @elorianna 💖

3) This Is Going To Hurt

Today is supposed to be a good day for Alex. He's caught up in the midst of an incredible Puppets tour, he's all set to play a mind-blowing gig in a new city and - best of all - he even finds himself waking in the comfort of Miles's arms. Unfortunately he also wakes with what feels like the most horrendous hangover of his life, and somehow his day only gets worse from there.

I’ve definitely become kinder to this one over time as it made me want to pull my hair out at several points during the writing process 😅 Pretty sure this was my first proper sick-fic though and it allowed me to finally unleash my inner medical geek, much to poor Alex’s detriment...

4) Watch Our Souls Fade Away 

Nebula and Tony struggle to come to terms with everything they've lost as they make the journey back to Earth. Takes place immediately after the events of Avengers: Infinity War.

With a lot of my older fics I definitely fell into a trap of writing what I thought the audience would want rather than something I actually wanted to write, so I’m genuinely delighted that my most popular fic is one that I both remain fond of and was something I wrote entirely for myself. I still can’t believe how well it did considering it’s centred around an (at the time) underrated female character in a very male-centric fandom, but the response was overwhelming in the best way. It was one of those rare moments where my motivation to write was matched by a wealth of ideas and this fic became my life over the course of three weeks. It was also an exercise in problem solving as I would often write myself into corners and have to think my way out of them without breaking the narrative, but thankfully I found that to be a fun challenge rather than an off-putting obstacle 😅

5) What’s Left Unspoken

Gamora's aware that Peter loves her. Though it scares her, she thinks she's starting to love him too. The hard part is admitting it.

I think my days of writing for Marvel are long behind me and I’m not sure how well some of those stories hold up, but I was always quite proud of this one. Part of me sometimes wishes I could go back and rewrite certain bits of it, but for the most part I think it accomplished exactly what I wanted it to.

Tagging: @lanatural-books​, @alexturne, @yellowloid, @alexxturner-me-on, @1llusionmachine and @rock-n-roll-fantasy​ if you guys want to join in 🥰

#my writing #tag game #I should probably have used this as an excuse to revisit some of my older fics but that idea makes me physically recoil 😅

[gremlintiny]

A simple(n't) birthday

~ Everything here is just a work fiction. Every person, place, institution, event and etc. is not a representation of any of the real ones. Written purely for entertainment. ~

Genre: fluff, with bugging ateez members

Warnings: none

Word count: ~2200

A late birthday fanfiction for our Captain, as Christmas draws closer. It will be filled with a little bit of... madness, I might say. Have fun~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another day started in the life of ATEEZ, with gloomy and rainy weather - again. It seemed like they haven’t felt the soothing touch of warm sunlight for ages. Which was unfortunately true. The whole world was strict with its nature, not allowing anybody to feel happiness from a sparkle of a random water droplet in the morning or re-noticing the many colours that are there in their daily lives, although it’s difficult to be always aware of them.

The base was full of joy, though. They decorated the rooms one by one with unique, very unique designs as most of the ornaments were made by them. Did the more talented ones do the majority of it? Definitely not. But everybody tried while having fun and brain damage as well to finish the program in time.

The reason behind this squirmy anthill was their captain’s birthday. ‘After all, it only comes once a year, haha!’ said Wooyoung a few days ago, only to receive seven pairs of eyes’ judging gaze in return. It was true, naturally, but the loud male always repeated this same joke every time a special day came.

When he tried to get a different kind of reaction, he ended up getting shushed by Seonghwa and a very menacing looking pile of clothes in his hands. Truth to be told, most members were frightened as well, even if the threat wasn’t directed to them. At least everybody was quick with their parts of this important job. First and foremost, all of these freed souls wanted to scintillate with their performance and gifts because they adored the man who had to accept the suffocating weight on his shoulder. And he also wanted to fulfil this duty, Hongjoong felt like it was his mission and the reason why he had to be born into this world. The others were determined to help him reach his goal, which became theirs immediately or slowly as time passed.

“Whoever made Christmas trees in November” started off Seonghwa deadly but silently, since he didn’t want to wake up the leader either “I will shove a real one into your ass on the 25th of December.”

Two heads already went pale as a laboratory coat. It only meant that the lioness found his targets a little bit too easily, maybe. Was it their recklessness by being high on this hype train, or was it just a lovely yet dumb joke? Or more likely, an attempt for it?

“Hyung, we just wanted to add some more colours to this event, and Yeosang discovered an old magazine with Christmas specials so we thought it would be fun.” Explained San with pouting lips. He used his trump card he likes so much.

Wooyoung nodded along right away, almost falling off the small ladder he was standing on to put up a bunch of luftballons. “Yeah, exactly! There was even a title which said ‘You can not start preparing for the holidays too early! Come and buy our brand’s top products to really add some spice to that smile! Thunder Whiskey - To become Thor for a moment.’ and we were completely stunned by it!” He probably recited every word perfectly with his dialect filled voice. It was strangely always understandable, despite the fact he was literally disgracing almost each of the phrases with the pronunciation.

The sudden flood of information worked out in their favour as the oldest just threw two snowball imitations at them before going back to setting up the table. The hand-made cake was already on the counter, simple candles ready to be lit and the rare liquor on set. Him, Yunho and Wooyoung worked hard on the dessert. Jongho wanted to take part as well, but he was assigned with the obtainment of the alcohol and the others were simply not allowed to go near for the cake’s safety. Only Mika, when it was time to make the cream and to decorate it because he always had something interesting in his mind. Although not all ideas were… well, acceptable.

After bugging and arguing for around an hour, a well known alarm was heard. Hongjoong’s clock was shrieking to wake the captain earlier than any of the others expected. The last pieces were hurriedly tossed into near their right places as they panicked and got ready in no time to be in formation, as Mingi worded it.

As planned, Mika knocked on Hongjoong’s door, asking him if he could come out. Yet, nobody anticipated that the male would tell the younger one to come into his chamber. The victim looked baffled as he answered in a seemingly careless way ‘yeah sure, what is up?’ while opening the door. The remaining ones were left outside, blinking and with question marks over their heads. Worst thing, they couldn’t eavesdrop on them because of the thick door.

Hongjoong was sitting in his bed, his hair still tangled and curly which clearly showed the other man how long the leader had been up. Mika fought the urge to ruffle his hair as he stopped in front of the black haired male, with a questioning expression on his face.

“I would like to ask a favour from you.” He started off, after munching away the last pieces of his probably fading away or already forgotten dream. Mika only lifted his left eyebrow to this short yet kind of weird sentence. What is he planning?

“Look,” Hongjoong continued. “I think I will be assassinated with pranks and surprises over and over again until fucking midnight and you are the most… well, not normal but… the least dramatic out there? This is why I want you to be my bodyguard for this day - please?”

Mika’s brain was almost sure that the person on the bed said ‘pretty please’ based on the look on his face. Those sweet, demanding puppy eyes. But he had to reject this random free gift opportunity since he had messed up the bunker with the members that morning, although Hongjoong didn’t know about it - yet.

“You should flatter me properly if you want me to accept this job” Mika told him. “At least, next time, for sure, because I have already failed your request, sir. Now, if you would brush your shaggy curls to stop Meduse from reviving and come out with me.” Despite the kind tone and the title ‘sir’, even a dull mind could have told that the blue-eyed man used much sarcasm in his voice. So much that even he wasn’t aware of it.

Poor captain took some last peaceful breaths, sighed at Mika with a dying expression and his little bit pouty lips and stepped outside the door. Where a whole whirl of confetti awaited him, thrown by the flabbergasted people out of pure panic and instinct. And a gesturing, scarily staring pair of light eyes behind the jumpscared man.

Hongjoong didn’t even have the time to spit every piece of paper out of his mouth as the others were already pulling him to the kitchen with ear-killing chirping. It looked like a kidnap from the outside, Mika was pretty sure about it. Or like a show-down of a lynch.

The building was thriving with all these reckless noises and voices the whole day. The celebrated one was right, this madness lasted until the next, 24 hours long time period began ticking. There was even a countdown where Hongjoong was under a pile of men - because of a challenge seen in an old funny article - even including the ‘least dramatic’ one and Hongjoong was only freed when the clock hit 00:00.

“See, I told you it was a good idea to make two cakes! One, for us to push his head into it and one to actually eat it. Haha, and he believed that we would spare his life this time, ah, his face was priceless. Ah.” Wooyoung was holding his stomach with an amused, slightly painful countenance on the couch, more like crawling than sitting properly in one place.

“You were right this time, and I will truly never ever forget the expression he made. Even a cat couldn’t do better.” Seonghwa agreed with him while slowly sliding down from the sofa.

“I’m glad we could take some pictures in the middle of this insanity… They turned out quite well, actually. We will print them out later with Jongho. “ Yeosang quietly murmured this to us with his sleepy, low voice.

“Make sure to send all of them to me as well, I will make a compilation soon out of the best ones~” Yunho said lazily, but the end of the speech turned into a laughter when he noticed a stupored shorter male looking at him from a lower head position. It was meant to be frightening but after he had to suffer through us hugging him, yeeting his face into a cake, us dragging him as a voodoo doll, eight people literally toying with him and etcetera, nobody could take it seriously.

San giggled silently next to the dying Wooyoung on the couch with closed eyes. He looked so drunk even though the amount of alcohol was limited and Hongjoong got most of it to be able to handle us that day. The fine man was just probably out of the zoomie time and had to change into energy saving mode.

“Don’t forget to copy every picture several times or some people might destroy the evidence.” This wise advice came from the steadily sitting Jongho who looked the most content out of them. But his longer blinks and sort of baggy eyes said it all, he went crazier than usual as well.

“Ohoh, we can’t let that happen, now can we?” A smile came from the dazzling oldest one although it was rather creepy. He had a mysterious power that awakened primary instincts in people’s hearts when he wanted them to.

“Ya, Yunho-ya, can you make it into a video? I will write a rap for it-” Mingi had come up with the idea in that instant, then began performing a free-style in the middle of the room. Mika wondered with half-closed eyelids how did he still have so much energy left. A second later, he realised that the tall male will K.O. himself in less than 10 minutes, no matter where he was. It's fine.

“Tidying. Now. Sleep.” Ordered the tortured leader with a raspy voice, from the ground. He stayed there, face lying on the carpet, limbs as powerful as a blue bird in a cage after getting drugged. Mika scoffed, then maybe purposefully failed to hide his laugh with an obviously not real cough while looking at the cat on the floor.

“Bodyguard.” This word was meant to sound as powerful as the previous one, but the small difference in Hongjoong’s voice and the uncovered hope in his irises gave him away. The laughing bursted out of the ‘bodyguard’, he went to scrape him together anyway.

Captain Joong was only walking next to Mika until they reached the dark corridor, where he got stuck in one place. The guardian was confused at first, but as the few centimetres shorter person faked a pretty dramatic concussion, his violent giggles returned and he picked up the silently demanding one onto his back.

Not like it was unusual but the leader’s pride already suffered much from this whole ordeal so he didn’t want to reveal how exhausted he was in front of the crew. Mika delightedly put Hongjoong down onto his nicely made blankets that will be ruined by his dirty clothes in a minute. But who would want to queue for a shower after a rough, eventful day?

“Ah, if only birthdays could last for two days so the others would clean up, wash my clothes, let me take a long, long bath and give me headache-less hours…” His eyelids were intact by then.

“...and a massage, a goodnight kiss on your forehead and-” Even though Hongjoong looked like the sleeping beauty, he tickled Mika’s side to shut him up. Poor man was overly ticklish.

“Ahahah, okay, okay, but if you ask us to do it for you, we might as well just make it happen since we respect you.” The lying one glanced at the sitting man through a thin crack tiredly. “I mean, in general. Sometimes we just have to disrespect you to show our utmost respect.”

Loud laughter was heard in the main room because Hongjoong took his sweet revenge with tickling. The sudden noise startled the ones working there, to at least not leave a literal garbage dump after them, but they exchanged some smug smiles while finishing the job, already thinking about jokes the next day. In the meantime, the remaining two people collapsed in the leader’s room to sleep. A shorter one in the bed and a slightly taller figure on a mattress that was accidentally left there by a certain person in the morning as he heard his members ganging up in front of his door.

- H

#ateez #ateez fanfic #hongjoong #seonghwa #yeosang #jongho #san #mingi #wooyoung #yunho #mikaela and his bizarre adventures with ateez #mika usually fights to be able to fall asleep #but there at that time he just went puff #ateez theory #they actually let hongjoong live tomorrow #z

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Brawler (2019)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

I have an idea. I’m going to tell you about 2019's The Brawler and you can tell me who you think it’s for. There is an audience for this movie but it's incredibly narrow, and not the one the filmmakers hoped for.

Based on the true story, Chuck Wepner (Zach McGowan) is a small-time boxer who gets the opportunity of a lifetime when Muhammad Ali (Jerrod Page) challenges him for the heavyweight championship title. His story makes him a celebrity among the locals and catches the eye of Sylvester Stallone (Anthony Mangano), who thinks it would make a great film. Unfortunately, his newfound stardom plunges Chuck into a downward spiral of substance abuse and poor decisions.

If you like the Rocky franchise and hope to get “a little more” by watching the story that inspired it, this film will disappoint you. At first, "The Brawler" follows the 1976 Oscar-winner nearly beat-for-beat with a few key differences. Firstly, Chuck is already married to Phyllis (Taryn Manning). Secondly, his rough-around-the-edges manager (Joe Pantoliano) isn’t all that lovable and has no memorable lines. Third and most importantly, our protagonist is 0% likeable. You have to admire the film for showing a “warts and all” portrait of the real-life boxer but if you’re going to show the man’s flaws and your objective isn’t to assassinate his character… try to show some good facets of his personality. Sloppy, dumb, unfaithful, apparently eager to abandon his three children (I think there were three, they get so little screen time I can’t be sure) and always insistent that none of what happens to him is his fault, you don’t cheer for Chuck. Ever.

The film is fundamentally flawed in that it keeps reminding you, over and over, of two movies you’d rather be watching: Rocky and Rocky II. In fact, Chuck receives a role in Rocky II from what is undoubtedly the worst Stallone lookalike you’ve ever seen. Director Ken Kushner does his best - for a while - by shooting Anthony Mangano (at least 30 pounds too heavy and way too old for the part) from a distance, in a hoodie, with sunglasses or with all three but eventually, the “real” Rocky and the movie Rocky come face-to-face and you’ll be embarrassed for everyone involved. Their Mohammad Ali wasn’t very good. James Diian Bonavia as André the Giant was worse but by comparison, they're mirror images.

So is the film for boxing fans who have never seen Rocky? Maybe, as long as they can tolerate poorly choreographed and poorly shot fight scenes. The camera twists and twirls so much it could make anyone look like a prized fighter. Even with these tricks, it’s obvious the punches are not connecting with any force.

For drama fans, then? ‘Fraid not. At 95 minutes, there’s too much material covered for anything to have any emotional resonance. There is no through line, no lesson for Chuck to learn and no character arcs. It’s simply a checklist of events until the film ends. The conclusion is supposed to leave you feeling good but there’s no way you will because it’s unearned. That’s how bad this film is; even if you separate yourself emotionally from the movies it reminds you of, you dislike Chuck so much you don’t want him to win in the end.

No one wants to see a movie about a screw-up that’s not self-aware. They certainly don’t want to see one that's badly shot & edited, with lousy performances and a sloppy story. So who is The Brawler for? People who like comparing good and bad movies. Here’s what you do. Week 1, you watch Rocky and the Here Comes the Boom. Now you see how a boxing underdog story can be done well, and not-so-well. Week 2, Rocky II and then The Brawler. Now you've seen how to follow up one of the greatest sports movies of all time with a solid sequel and how you REALLY shouldn’t tell a boxing story. (June 19, 2020)

#The brawler #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #ken kushner #zach mcgowan #amy smart #taryn manning #joe pantoliano #anthony mangano #james diian bonavia #2019 movies #2019 films #rocky #rocky ii

[ombwarrior47]

Odd one Out by Quinton Skinner

Title: Odd One Out Author: Quinton Skinner Series: N/A Number of Pages: 307 Genre: Family Life Fiction Publisher: Prospect Park Books Date of Original Publication: May 30, 2017 ISBN: 978-1938849954

Getting them knocked out of the park this month. Read this one quite fast. Honestly regret reading this one.

Odd One Out by Quinton Skinner was a story of a family going through a divorce and the outcome ten years later. The story shows the affects from multiple families’ point of view over two different time periods.

I’m from Minnesota and still live in Minnesota. I actually live two small towns over from where the author lives. I bought this book in Barnes & Nobles at the Maplewood Mall in Maplewood, MN. It was on the shelf designated for staff picks. I like MN based books and thought it was great that a staff member had recommended it. Unfortunately the book being MN based was really the only good thing I have to say about the book. I liked the first half of the book when they were kids. But the second half of the book I honestly disliked.

This book really doesn’t have anything happy about it. Not even the ending. The first half of the book was entertaining and comical. The second half of the book was like an airplane trying to land and missing its landing gear every time. There’s no real resolution for every issue the family member has and there’s no real point to the book. You find out in the end, why the beginning events of the book happened. But all the rest in the middle is pretty much pointless. Just a bunch of events written to fill gaps. Was very disappointed.

 ★ Wouldn’t recommend.

~

Up Next:  Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty

 Yearly Goal Marker:

Book Goal: 15/75 – 20%

Page Goal: 5.7K/10k – 57.2%

Follow me on LibraryThing, Goodreads, and Amazon. Same handle: OMBWarrior47

#Odd One Out #Quinton Skinner #Realistic Fiction #Family Fiction #Minnesota #Book Review #Divorce

[anne-1961]

The Problem of a Military Presence in Films

I have to be honest, I’m a little split between two opinions. I’m always a slut for uniforms and watching Captain America: The First Avenger basically makes me want to travel in time and space to join the allies in WWII. So many American films portray the army not as perfect but still in a relatively good light and being a soldier is seen as admirable. I understand that today, a lot of people join the military because they simply have no other option (the system having failed them) and the two world wars might not have ended the way they did without American intervention. But in the end, movies have a way of glorifying the horrible reality of battles and wars.

Of course, it’s necessary to distinguish between realistic films based more or less loosely on historic events and completely science fictional ones.

Realistic films would be a good place to portray wars like they are, senseless death and destruction of people, that are in no way at fault for the reason for the war. But if filmmakers want to use for example U.S. Military propriety in their work, the latter gets to look at the final script and decide whether or not, they’re okay with it. Therefore, it becomes difficult portraying some of the harsher facts (only a small part of soldiers actually get their college tuition paid, the probability of getting raped is way higher in the military than for civilians, there’s no real support for mental and physical afflictions and a high percentage of homeless people are veterans, etc.). I certainly don’t want to imply that this is always the case and that the military is inherently bad, but in the end armed forces rarely invoke peace.  The fact, that a lot of military based movies play in the second world war is not a coincidence, as it’s the only war, where there’s a relatively clear “good and bad” side. A small exception to this exists in the film “Saving Private Ryan”, where allied soldiers shoot surrendering Czechian soldiers forced to fight for the German army.

If realistic and historic films portray their stories truthfully, they have a lot of potential to spark discussions and could even lead to improvements. That might be wishful thinking, but it is a necessary approach if the earth should ever come close to something like peace, we need to abandon the idea of armies as they exist today.

The second kind of films, science fictional ones, contain a slightly different problem. The main issues are one-dimensional antagonists with no real reason for their villainous actions. Far too often, these kinds of movies have a faceless, soulless army, that the audience doesn’t know and doesn’t care about, easy targets that can be killed without repercussions. Watching these movies can easily provide an image of a heroic fight against evil, which does not exist in real life, but still awakens a wish to do something equally as important as the protagonists. In this very globalised time, it can feel, like you have to achieve something special, ideally before you turn 30 years old, without truly providing an outlet for these wishes. Activism and protests are not usually very successful and can rapidly feel redundant, there’s no real change in politics, no matter what.

The military seems like a quick fix to do something more with your life, but in reality, there’s no soulless alien army on the other side, but real people that are just like you. Far too often civilians are the ones, that need to pay for that fix. It’d be very nice to be on the front lines, save a ton of people with your actions and having achieved something good in the very short time we’ve been given, but unfortunately this is not how it works. If we wanted to achieve world peace in the nearer future, militaries would have to completely reconstructed, violence replaced by communication.

Now, we can’t remove all stories with slightly violent conflicts, but the approach has to include both sides, motives for both sides and an exploration for why something is right or wrong. We need to stop simply portraying struggles with good and bad, but as various grey tones. Every time, we see a film with a military presence, we can still consider their actions as correct, but not without taking the effects and consequences into consideration, especially for the losing side, as it’s always the winner who writes the history books.

(written: Vullierens, 02.6.2020)

#movies #military #war #bloodshed #hollywood #false promises #humanity #peace

[inezdlsujournal]

Oct 26 (8th session)

This session Miss Pia discussed workplace diversity and discrimination. The word discrimination has a negative connotation to it since it refers to differentiation not based on individual merit but rather on prejudice or some other negative attribute. This type of discrimination is sadly still present in this day and age. If you take a look at classified ads on the newspaper, you can sometimes see this. Ex: wanted accountant, must be female, 21-25 years old, etc. Personally I saw my workmate experience job discrimination because she was preparing for her wedding and the former company we were in was not really supportive of her busy schedule preparing for the wedding. The big bosses asked her if she wanted to take a leave or even demote herself to a lower position just because they knew she would eventually start a family once she was married. That workmate of mine was 29 years old and served the company we worked in for 6 years of her life so this came as a shock to me. I would’ve thought that she was already looked at or treated as a senior in the company but since we are in a sales job, the culture was very competitive that they didn’t want my workmate to slow down the momentum of the rest of the sales force. She eventually took this up with the human resources team and instead of reprimanding her bosses or the upper management involved, they transferred her to a whole different department in the company which was practically a demotion since she did not technically fit that role but they also did not want to let go of her. Unfortunately I see job discrimination happen so often especially in an industry like real estate sales. As a young woman, I can say I have had my own fair share of experiences being discriminated for and by my job. There was one Sunday where we had an open house event and our sales manager strictly required us to wear dresses and heels. This is something we do wear in our office but we typically have had the option in the past to wear pants. But for this event they required the dress which made some lesbian workmates of mine very squeamish and uncomfortable since they did not like showing their legs nor wearing dresses or skirts for that matter. Since it was upper management that was requiring it, we had no choice but to all comply. For women in the workplace, I think job discrimination is very common since women are always objectified and it was sad to see that still true for my former company. It was also shameful to see how it was handled by human resources since it is their duty to make sure that the companys values, mission, vision are implemented and that all employees are treated as humans with dignity and not pretty objects to look at or play with. From a utilitarian perspective, societys productivity will be optimized to the extent that jobs are awarded on the basis of competency and not race or gender or religion. We can really see that job discrimination is based on irrelevant characteristics often times and it is inefficient and therefore contrary to utilitarian principles. If a company is guilty of doing this or is still doing this, then they are not maximizing efficiency. To maximize efficiency is to provide the greatest good for the greatest number of people. From a rights perspective this is also unethical because it violates a person’s basic moral rights as well. People should be treated as ends and not merely as means.