#Yet well known as an absolute disaster human being

[majorxmaggiexboy]

Personally i think battinson is absolutely perfect but also i need like a one-off Batman movie with Mr Charlie Cox as Batman and it should come out right before daredevil reborn and it should have an ambiguous Did Batman Just Die ending bc that would be the funniest possible way to kick off daredevil reborn and also we already know Mr Cox could kill it as Batman bc he's been playing essentially the same character for years and also his Brucie Wayne would be incredible and also he should fight Bane @dc pls I have the movie ready to go let me have this

[tblsomedoodles]

Raph is the eldest, the Protector. He was the shield to keep his siblings safe no matter what and a role model to show then right from wrong. They could come to him about anything and he would promise no judgement (well, maybe a little teasing) and his complete support and he had made sure his brothers had known this since they were very young. And he'd been doing a pretty banged up job of it too, bug brothering like a Boss!! At least, that was what he had thought up until this point. Then he discovered Leo and Donnie were a little more special than they'd first thought.

They were a Fated Pair, according to a decidedly smug Draxum. According to yokai legend, every few hundred or so years a pair of seers, usually twins although not necessarily. And he had suspected for quite some time that Leo was one of them, although it was only recently he figured out which. Leon was a doom prophet, someone cursed with prophetic dreams and vision of future disasters, while Donnie was ironically the soothsayer, blessed with visions of fortune.

All Raph had really understood out of that was that his brother's dreams weren't just dreams and his brothers had been keeping soem serious secrets from him. He'd always known Leo had trouble sleeping and Donnie had the uncanny ability to guess good news even before it's told, but he'd never really thought too much about it. Donnie has freely admitted to recording and even spying on his family before so it wouldn't be hard to imagine he'd just overheard it while Leo is... Leo. He's never been much a of a restful sleeper. He'd never thought anything of it until recently.

Then CJ came along.

Raph adored the human boy, they all did, but that's nothing on how downright protective if the time traveler Leo and Donnie were. How they seemed to just know things about CJ that they shouldn't know at all, like his fear of snakes (something shout a crazed snake yokai trying to eat him when he was younger). And of course theirs the stories CJ would tell, about how Leo and Donnie's future selves. Whenever the boy would bring up anything about Leo and Donnies' future selves' uncanny ability to plan ahead for almost any eventuality, even when there was absolutely no foreseeable way for then to tell soemthing was going to happen, the turtles in question would be quick to change the subject, insisting that it must be exaggeration on the part of the apparently prevalent rumor mill of yhe apocalypse.

That was the start of it, and not long after the kid came along and they'd fought their greatest battle yet, the truth was revealed. Raph was concerned, of course, who wouldn't be learning such a terrifying thing about their younger brothers!? Donnie would insist the visions aren't anything to worry about, more a nuisance than anything.

"Whats the point of a surprise party or dazzling someone if you already going to know what's going to happen!?" Donnie would complain whenever asked about it, "I'd rather not know what my next birthday present will be thank you very much..."

On Leo's end the slider would just shrug it off, likening his visions to just another nightmare.

"I'm used to it, it's jsut more of the same right? Insomnia stops me form sleeping and I get nightmares. Just cuz they come true don't mean much if anything!"

Raph had a feeling that Leo was downplaying how bad his dreams were and that Donnie wasn't being completely upfront in the matter of his feelings about his visions, but considering the circumstances in which they had discovered the visions the snapper couldn't blame them. This was something deeply personal that got thrown out for the world to see after all, and as long as they know to come to him if it gets worse, all is well and good. Besides having brothers who can see the future is actually cool, or at least thats what Raph ahd thought until he had to witness one of them.

Leo had woken him late one night with a terrified scream, prompting him and Mikey to rush to his room. His eyes and markings were glowing as he gasped and whimpered in desperate pain, nails digging into his face as he scratched desperately at his temples and scalp, convulsing with the sheer power of hus uncontrollable visions. He was having a vision, one of the rare waking ones where he wasn't asleep, and Donnie was nowhere to be found! Stuck and unsure what to do, Raph tried to snap him out of it only for Leo to curl up more, more pained cries escaping his beak. Mikey was fumbling with his phone, trying to get Donnie on the line. Nothing they were doing was helping and Raph, desperate, jsut did the only thing he could think of.

He scooped Leo into his arms, sitting in the floor with the convulsing and crying turtle in his lap and wrapping himself around the smaller liek the world's most dense weighted blanket and just held him close, heart breaking as Leo instinctively clung to him, nails digging in as he bit his lip in a desperate attempt to stifle his crying. Donnies voice came on the speaker, held close by Mijey with promises of coming home as soon as possible and telling Leo to hold on.

Donnie sounded breathless, telling stories about good times yet to come as he runs, not hover but actually runs, back to the lair in n attempt to comfort Leo. The sound of his twin seemed to help, but not enough, it wasn't nearly enough and Raph's heart shattered even more as he picked up the panicked tone in Donnies voice as the realization that nobody knew how to handle this set in.

Leo was the expert when it came to this strange future sight... Donnie had freely admitted to only recently even noticing his own powers and beginning to learn them but Leo had been aware of then for far longer and any questions they had would be best asked of the slider or Draxum. Draxum was away on some charity event the school he worked for was hosting to help with the hundreds of people now homeless after the invasion, and Leo was catatonic and suffering.

As Raph sat there waiting for this to pass, Mikey curled against his shell for comfort but unwilling to slide in next to Leo who needed it more and Donnie rushing back, he thought. His many times, he asked himself, how many times has this happened to his brothers and he wasn't there to help!? How much has Leo and Donnie kept hidden from hin because they didn't want to worry him with these visions? How many times was Leo brought to this state, alone and suffering in the dark as he stifled his crying? What was it Leo was seeing, that made it so his strong and thick skinned little brother would cry and weep and convulsed in pain form sheer grief at what he was seeing!?

No more. Raph won't let them suffer alone anymore. He may not get this whole seer thing much but he doesn't have to to understand that his brothers need him. Hours later, when Donnie had arrives and Leo's episode had ended, twins sleeping peacefully once more, Raph carefully traced the yin and yang marks on his brothers' faces before tucking the blanket around them closer. They were in a turtle pile, everyone too freaked by Leo's waking vision to sleep alone.

Tomorrow, Raph will discuss setting up soem ground rules on regard to what the twins do and do not hide when it comes to their visions and ask Leo just what it was he had seen.

This is so great!!! Raph is such a good big brother! I love this so much!

also just

He's going to be talking to them about all this. But tomorrow. (off mikey's getting more blankets and pillows for a proper turtle pile)

THank you!!!

[gear-project]

when do you think Asuka met Happy Chaos? at what point in asuka's life would he have met hc. just really confused on the timeline. was it college or what

Since you ask, I'll do what I can to make a summary:

Prior to 2014, Asuka had been a survivor of the disaster of 1999 that was the Dawn of Revival, alongside Frederick Bulsara and Aria Hale... the three of them were students in University (prior to the fall of Civilization as we knew it), though Asuka's teacher was the one everyone called "The Original" (a.k.a. The Original Sage).

While we DO know Asuka R. Kreutz after some time of his name being revealed, we do NOT know his teacher's real name, so for now we can only refer to him as "The Original" (sometimes known as "The Original Man" in comparison to "That Man" which was Asuka's historical nickname).

Scientific research prior to 2014 delved heavily in to the study of Magic and understanding it, since it was an as-yet untapped energy resource that the world was clamoring to understand.

At the time, the Backyard was mostly considered a heavily contested "Theory": only Asuka's teacher knew the truth since he was the one who first discovered it.

Most who followed The Original would later become his Disciples and members of the massive organization later known as the Sanctus Populi. One of those members was also Asuka's Scientific Rival who later went by the name Chronus (we do not know his past connections with Asuka in full detail).

It was after the Universal Will waged war with humans and undid most technology in society (in 1999) that "The Original" decided to entrust two Mass-Information Seeds to his student, Asuka: The Scales of Juno and the Flame of Corruption.

It is speculated that at this time, the Original Sage was in actual conflict with the Universal Will that he had created and was in battle with it within the Backyard itself.

Meanwhile, Asuka began researching the true nature of the Seeds that his teacher gave him, and by 2014, he created the first set of encoded Gear Cells (with Aria's and Frederick's help of course), and set about to establish guidelines for their use as a new medical technology (their main purpose to serve as a means to protect the Seeds from fulfilling their original functions of generating the World's Absolution: an overlap of the natural world and the Backyard).

As of 2016, however, rogue elements of the United States Military (C.I.A. remnants) sought to take Asuka's Gear Cell Research by force, and Asuka was given no choice but to use Frederick as a scapegoat. He was also trying to protect Aria having forced her in to cryostasis at this time as well.

After the tragic events of 2016, all progress on Gear Cell research was classified, frozen, and halted, and supposedly many researchers involved also went missing (Asuka and Frederick not being the only ones involved).

Much time would pass up to the year 2040, and the U.S. Military would re-open the files on Gear Cell Research with the intent to weaponize the technology.

It is not clear if "The Original" was aware of Asuka's activities at this time, but it is implied that he would be tracking Asuka's movements sometime later.

A fully functional Gear would not exist until the year 2060, and Asuka's attempts to protect Aria eventually fed in to the development of Command Type Gear 01: Justice which came in to existence around the year 2073.

It is in the year 2074 that the Universal Will planted a virus inside Justice' body and forced Asuka to fire the Gamma Ray on Japanese soil in order to eliminate several Anti-Matter Gear Mutations that would have destabilized the world's physical information (i.e. generate Information Flares).

As of this time, we are, again, unclear on how involved "The Original" was in observing the events of Japan's destruction... however it appears as though he was responsible for the destruction and subjugation of Baiken's village prior to these events.

At the time, it seems as though "The Original" had been borrowing several of Asuka's aliases, either through work history, or some other means, and so many activities (and atrocities) he performed during the Crusades can be attributed to Happy Chaos by that time.

In other words, Asuka's Teacher had been transformed by the Universal Will and had been swallowed by it around the same time that the Crusades had started.

However, there is more to this: Humanity had witnessed the tragedy of Japan's destruction firsthand, as well as the revolt of the Gears and this caused a mass-panic around the world that influenced the Backyard itself.

The Backyard could not handle this anomalous mental feedback, and so it sealed most of the errors it obtained within I-No, cutting off part of itself from the world (this in turn sent Axl Low in to the Future as well).

It is speculated that Happy Chaos is partly responsible for what happened to create I-No, but we do not know the full extent of his involvement with her existence... only that he blames himself and sought atonement for what he did to her (though he never openly states this).

Asuka would not be aware of his teacher's activities for quite some time after this, though he would eventually meet I-No in the year 2183 of the first Alternate Timeline.

At that time, Asuka was imprisoned by the Gears, though Justice had been killed in the year 2180 of that timeline (mirroring events that would later occur in the corrected timeline).

I-No corrected the Timeline in the year 2173, changing major events (though again, it is unclear if anything involving Happy Chaos was changed).

Time passed, and Asuka learned of Blackard Company and its Command Gear Project named Solaria.

As of the year 2180, Asuka now had I-No and Raven serving under him, and he had given Jack-O'Valentine a physical body (though she hid her face due to her immature development still in early stages).

Jack-O'Valentine was of course the "backup half" of Justice that Asuka managed to recover from her Memory Core prior to her death and retrieval by the Conclave (the Conclave were serving under Ariels/The Universal Will although they were unaware of this at that time).

It is presumed that Happy Chaos was "sealed" inside Ariels' body at this time, but he was still able to "leave" at various intervals to do as he wished (though we do not know what all he was involved with at this time). It is worth noting that Happy Chaos had been pursuing Nagoriyuki as early as the year 2127, though we do not know how involved Nagoriyuki was with the Crusades events himself.

Happy Chaos later suggested that he had been inside Ariels' prison for 100 years, so most likely he had been "sealed" (at least to her knowledge) as early as 2074 when the Crusades began.

In the year 2192, Axl Low's Time Slipping had reached a "plateau" and he was unable to Time Travel in that year. This was also the year Sol Badguy's Dragon Install fully encroached, turning Sol in to an Anti-Matter Gear (leading to Frederick's quiet demise).

Axl Low made "contact" with a fragment of "The Original Sage's" consciousness (which Happy Chaos retained memories of) and obtained a message to be passed on to Asuka regarding the Conclave.

After obtaining the message from "The Original", Axl Low was caught in a trap within Bedman's Nightmare Theater, forcing I-No to rescue him.

At this time, I-No had created an "Integrated Point" within she had the power to manipulate various stages of the Timeline, though her mission at this time was to monitor the various Valentine creations that the Universal Will was generating based on Asuka's designs.

I-No had (on several occasions) successfully "assassinated" Ramlethal Valentine in various future Timelines beyond the Integrated Point (under Asuka's orders).

However rescuing Axl Low after he "fell in to her net" was a sign that events were beginning to change. I-No confirmed this by having one last fight with the current Timeline's Ramlethal, only to learn that Ramlethal had obtained a sense of self-preservation, which confirmed I-No's suspicions that the Timeline had changed.

Raven, meanwhile was working alongside Asuka to keep an eye on Sol Badguy, though neither of them were fully aware that Happy Chaos was observing them all.

Jack-O' felt misgivings regarding her role to fuse with Justice, due to her developing sense of identity, and so she escaped I-No's custody temporarily.

By this time, Sol had become more aware of Asuka's movements (as was Anji Mito, who still considered himself a friend of Asuka's at this time).

Raven requested Sol's assistance in retrieving Jack-O', but prior to their first meeting, Jack-O' revealed the truth as she saw it to I-No, greatly distressing her.

Jack-O' felt it necessary to prepare I-No, as a contingency plan in case the merge with Justice was a failure, though Raven corrected her, as he felt that I-No didn't deserve to be crudely treated.

I-No partially took her frustrations out on Sol and Axl, but at this time she became keenly aware of where Happy Chaos was being kept, though she kept this knowledge to herself (even despite Raven's attempt at trying to maintain friendship with her).

Asuka, meanwhile, had been tracking the Conclave's movements with the Cradle along with Sol, but ended up becoming Bedman's prisoner... he would be unable to move until Chronus later freed him with the understanding that he would finally reveal the truth to Sol.

Happy Chaos was... as of this time, "physically imprisoned" but still somehow able to observe Raven's and Jack-O's conversations, and he became "inspired" to craft a new identity for himself.

Happy Chaos would not reveal himself to Asuka until the events of the White House, and by that time his only purpose was to serve I-No's goals as well as his own. By that time, he had become Asuka's enemy.

It is speculated that after fulfilling his purpose for I-No, Happy Chaos hid himself inside her Paradox World temporarily so as to go in hiding from authorities.

He did have a final discussion with I-No prior to her "demise", though he seemed to have his eyes set on Nagoriyuki and what remained of Bedman, though even that is uncertain.

It's worth noting, however, that the Original Sage was the "author" of the Tome of Origin, that Asuka swore to protect. And while Happy Chaos "got his use" out of the tome, it's unclear if he will ever decide to use it again.

It seems that Asuka did not have access to the Tome until after the Crusades, as he had asked Raven to retrieve it at one point, as it had been in an undisclosed location prior to Strive's events.

Asuka has since moved his person to a secure base on the Moon, though he created a copy of himself for research purposes as a figurative "extra set of hands".

Asuka still seems bound and determined to undo the past tragic history his teacher created, though we do not know how far he'll manage.

[imagineanime2022]

An Elric Brother Like Finny

Edward Elric X Brother!Reader, Alphonse Elric X Brother!REader, Winry Rockbell X Brother Figure!Reader (All platonic)

Requested: @the-letter-horror-lover

Request: Please may I have Fullmetal alchemist brotherhood platonic headcanons of Edward and Al Elric with a older brother age 16 who is exactly like Finny from the Black Butler series when he was in a dangerous fight mode and he wasn't exactly very friendly when he was dangerous and it was clear how it frightened the absolute hell out of anyone. He is genuinely a nice guy and Friendly and unassuming, he was often underestimated- but beneath the gentlemanly charm there was a genius alchemist at work. Understanding what made people tick was always instinctive to him. With his respectful and empathetic manner - as well as his love of a good yarn - he managed to disarm everyone he met and he can literally befriend anyone and he is a highly skilled and experienced alchemist and he is a inhuman strength alchemist. Winry is his girlfriend…

Edward's relationship with his older brother

Al Elric's relationship with his older brother

Winry Rockbell's relationship with him

Edward Elric

🥛 You had been pulled away from them after your mother had died, you were the sole provider for them and given your unnatural strength and unrivalled work ethic there were many people that were willing to give you a job but most of it took you a long way from home and had you sending money back. 🥛 When you got back after hearing that your brothers had gotten into some trouble, you surprised them, you didn;t ask them why they did it, you didn’t tell them that they were wrong and you definitely didn’t tell them it was what they deserved instead you hugged them both and apologised for being gone so long. 🥛 From there you stayed with your brother’s doing the best that you could to help them get their bodies back, you didn’t have any alchemy abilities but that didn’t matter when your punch could split a rock or you could break a leg and keep running. 🥛 You and Ed were close you always had been, you were the only person that was able to lean and elbow on his head mostly because no matter how much he tried he (even with an automail arm) could not hurt you. 🥛 He was very aware of the fact that you didn’t know how to keep a secret so he never told you any, when he made plans during a fight or even when he had done something a little dangerous, you were none the wiser. 🥛 Ed never once criticised your strength and often scolded others for doing so, you were the one that showed him the strength in kindness, he was sure that was where Alphonse got it from. 🥛 He never understood how you kept going like nothing had happened despite everything that your family had been through even before the alchemy adventure. You were the one who had known your mother the longest and yet were the one who dealt the best with her passing. 🥛 You were the secret weapon, everyone underestimated you, Roy Mustang included. You were the Ace when they needed to turn a fight around. 🥛 You were kind to everyone and it bothered him because he had met enough people to know that they didn’t all deserve your kindness. 🥛 You only ever wanted to help and sometimes led to disaster and Ed was always reminding himself that you were just trying to be helpful. 🥛 Ed argued with you a lot, I say it that way because you never once realised that you were having an argument, you just laughed at you little brother yelling and waving his arms around. 🥛 Literally hike Ed up under your arm when he got carried away with something, taking him somewhere he could cool off before causing any trouble all while apologising and waving haphazardly.

Alphonse Elric

📖 Alphonse definitely learned alot from you, starting with your kindness and ending with your ability to control your uncanny super strength. 📖 When he first got his body he realised that he was much stronger than he was in his human body, you helped him to learn how to restrain that strength and how to use it when he needed it. 📖 You also benefited from the new body considering you had always had to be careful with your little brothers, now with his new body you were able to fight properly for once. 📖 Alphonse doesn’t ever raise his voice at you the way that he does with Edward. There are two reasons for this: the first is that you are significantly older than the both of them so it’s partly respect, the other reason was because if you didn’t understand it yelling at you was going to make no difference. 📖 Despite the strength that you had, you never walked into a place expecting or pushing for a fight, you often tried getting people to give you what you wanted rather than taking it and Alphonse obviously liked that approach. 📖 When you were together you were both the sweetest pair, you’d help anyone that needed it and protect anyone that needed it. You were dangerously protective of you little brothers but Alphonse more so when he was younger you used to promise to fight any monster that hid under his bed and even now he hides behind you when he’s scared. 📖 Once they get their human bodies back you're the strongest of the three of you and this time you aren’t far from home, you're always around when they need you. 📖 Just an aside, Mei loves you. 📖 You often lifted him over your shoulder (when he got his human body back) when you wanted him to do something for or with you. Alphonse enjoyed talking to you, you had a very simple view on things and sometimes that was all that he needed.

Winry Rockbell

🔧 Winry was like a little sister to you, you remember the times when the boys got to big for her to overpower and you used to run around with her on your shoulders chasing after them. 🔧 You encouraged her to do whatever she wanted when she was younger; it probably helped with her confidence to this day. 🔧 You saw the way that Ed and Winry acted together and when they got older you were the one to point out how cute they would be together even if they constantly denied it. 🔧 Winry always called to make sure that you were okay when you were away for work, she was also the one that told you what happened with your brothers. 🔧 You brought back anything that you thought Winry might find useful for automail construction. 🔧 You were the least troublesome of the Elric brothers and she loved that about you, as she got older and started chasing after your younger brothers to make sure that they didn’t get in too much trouble. 🔧 Winry used to fall asleep on you all the time and that didn’t change, you didn’t mind keeping her company when she was tinkering, helping her lift things and sometimes she ended up falling asleep on you when she was working too hard. 🔧 You always protected Winry whether it be physical or emotional, that was the only time that you were seen showing true anger outside of anything happening with your brothers. 🔧 When you did lose your temper Winry was the one that could calm you down the quickest (Ed tended to fight it out with you, Al talked you down most of the time though it did take some time) 🔧 Winry helped with the gardening when she had the time, especially when everything settled down. 🔧 Literally nothing changed when she and Edward got together, she was already family to you, your little sister.

Request Here!!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/6/2023

two things to frontload:

if you have good vibes to send off in service of me getting a livable apartment in the greater houston tx area i would be most grateful, bc the hunt ain't fuckin goin too fuckin great

go play ABZÛ

listening

soul bossa nova by quincy jones bc it popped up on my discover weekly. i can only assume spotify recced this to me for bossa nova reasons bc i have been categorically ignoring austin powers my entire life and intend to continue on in this fashion.

it is a bop tho.

-

reading

when i wrote the pinned post for this blog i settled on "a common throughline in Shit What I Like is understanding how and why systems work" bc i hadn't yet listened to Well There's Your Problem, a podcast with slides about engineering disasters and systemic failures, and "OSHA aficionado" is shorter but less snappy than "WTYPP fan". anyway when i think "chemical spill" i do not generally think "hand sanitizer spill", and when i think "how do i get rid of all this unsellable poorly made hand sanitizer made in the early days of the pandemic" i do not immediately leap to "well i'll just dump pallets in this parking lot and warehouse and surely it won't spill and/or explode bc hand sanitizer is a product that makes you safer".

ArtNaturals was, at that point, not on the [FDA warning] list. Its sanitizer, labeled with a tasteful, millennial-friendly design that said it was vegan and infused with jojoba oil, was marketed as “safe for kids” and “a great bulk hand sanitizer pack for parents and teachers.” At least two school districts on the West Coast had purchased the sanitizer to distribute to students, in addition to two Ivy League universities. Then, in March 2021, a year into sales, an independent lab in Connecticut called Valisure announced that it had found benzene in the company’s sanitizer. Benzene, a widely used industrial chemical derived from petroleum, can be absorbed through the skin and is known to be a risk factor for leukemia.

came across it bc my rss feed really wanted me to subscribe to longreads (no), but this one did catch my eye as i was checking to make sure the site still wasn't for me

-

watching

watching this was a unexpectedly funny experience bc i recognized one of the backing instrumentals as a previous tuesdaypost song, which kind of felt like solving a mystery book on chapter three bc u knew an obscure fact about eels. this documentary came out in nov 22 and the song was one of this past feb's tuesdaysongs so i can only assume the spike in popularity from the documentary propelled it onto my discover weekly playlist??? the internet is a series of algorithmic tubes &tc

this is a tremendous work, as a documentary/history/archival effort/piece of art. it made me tear up. there's a very lovely sequence about memory and legacy that got me thinking a lot again about how i would like to be remembered. ive rewritten this section four times, when usually i don't redraft the tuesdaypost much at all. boils down to: complex and weird topic to talk about as an orphan, i am reluctant to be any more emotionally vulnerable than i absolutely have to during this time of great cross-country change and moving upheaval.

i appreciated how this was not tearjerker webby bait, which would have made it feel very hollow and embittered me even more during a week i am already predisposed to hate humanity. instead, mr perjurer is simply very good at his job (being an ethical documentarian)

-

playing

one game i really loved and one game i really hated, so it goes.

despite religiously downloading the epic store free game of the week bc i have a reminder written in my planner, i never fucking remember to actually look at what i have in that library.

ABZÛ genuinely healed my heart during a very unpleasant weekend.

i don't use this as a recs platform except for this one time when i am cashing in all my chips. go play ABZÛ, it takes like an hour and a half.

all you need to know about it you can get from the cover art. it is not a hard game and it is not a horror game. i went in totally blind and the less you know about this game the better. i was delighted nearly every minute. every time i saw an ammonite i felt like i was seeing an old friend. there are SO many clever game design choices i want to talk about. message me after you play this. i said "of COURSE IT WAS AUSTIN FUCKING WINTORY ON THE SCORE" during the credits. what an absolutely goddamn perfect little jewel of a game.

AGAIN: go play ABZÛ.

i also played Call of the Sea, bc it was in my epic library and i wanted something fast and oceanic to continue the high of ABZÛ.

Call of the Sea did not continue the high of ABZÛ. i think this team carefully and thoughtfully sidestepped several of the usual issues is making something Lovecraftian but fell into the rest of the pits. eg i liked that they had Polynesian culture consultants, but from an interview it seemed like it was limited to a one-day crash course? i am deeply grateful this isn't a dead-wife game and the female protagonist has a great deal of agency, but she's still a rich white lady from boston trekking about the Tahitian islands commenting on primitive structures, which made me suck air in through my teeth at many points. there is an "ancient slave culture" thread that never actually resolves. i really wish it resolved. the game overall is in a very weird place, trapped between the norms and mores of the early 40s and the 2020s. you have Got to commit to one or the other.

the overall vibe is very polished for a first game. general vibes are Firewatch but puzzle-adventure. the lighting is a little too dynamic and was very distracting throughout. due to this studio's age (new) and odd location (spain) and how their debut game came out (took a year and a half to make, debuted on gamepass) i understand why this game exists the way it does from a marketing and industry standpoint and why they favored visual polish and art style over everything else. it's still annoying bc it is so close to an interesting game.

the twist particularly infuriated me as a chronically ill person, spoilers for the twist behind rot13

gur gjvfg vf gung Abenu gur cebgnt vf frpergyl n "Qnhtugre bs Pguhyuh", naq ure puebavp cebterffvat gb grezvany vyyarff vf op fur'f ba Rnegu naq abg va gur Urnirayl Ernyzf jvgu Pguhyh jurer fur orybatf. guvf frg bss fbzr fvyrag nynez oryyf gb zr nf n puebavpnyyl vyy crefba, op vg vf Fb fvzvyne gb gur Arj Ntr "vaqvtb puvyqera" pbaprcg. n terng qrny bs zrqvpny nohfr naq abezny nohfr fheebhaqf guvf pbaprcg. guvf ernyyl fbherq gur raqvat sbe zr

-

making

fallow week. if it isn't moving-related it isn't happening, and even then a lot of moving-related things are grinding on painfully slowly

[ainyan]

Kal'istae #13: Blessing?

This is the chapter of Miurani'kal'istae's story where she finds out she's pregnant! It's mostly a WIP because I haven't actually gotten to the end yet, but it's really like four chapters in one. XD

Long story short, her implant wasn't designed to work with humans, so she and Theron concieved. One of the plus sides to not a lot of Chiss lore: I can make things up on the fly. One of the downsides to not a lot of Chiss lore: I have to make things up on the fly.

(Side note: A lot of the Chiss lore I do reference in Nikali's story is based off of the original canon, not the new canon, so it uses things from the original Thrawn books, Outbound Flight, and the original Star Wars RPG.)

Excerpt:

She was alone; wherever Theron was, it was not at her side, and Saganu felt his suspicion climb. He and the human had come to an uneasy understanding over the years, but he could not imagine that the spy felt comfortable leaving his wife alone with a man for whom she had openly professed her love.

Her scarlet eyes were quiet as she gazed at him, and she offered the wine out to him. “Saganu,” she replied. “Welcome aboard the Phantom, my Aristocra. I am very pleased that you were willing and able to join us.” She spoke in Cheunh, and he raised an eyebrow.

He stepped forward and plucked the wine from her hands, tilting the glass towards him to study the liquid before taking a testing sip. It rolled over his tongue like liquid rubies; a Chiss vintage, infused with the essence of flame-flowers - a favorite of his. He hadn’t known she knew. “It is rare that we have the opportunity to speak as family,” he replied as he gazed down at her. “So often our paths cross only under official circumstances.”

On purpose, she knew, knowing that that was by her design as much as his. Love notwithstanding, being this close to him brought an unexpected pain to her breast, a low yearning that even the knowledge that her husband, who waited with unusual patience in the cockpit, loved her absolutely and completely could not dispel. “No, my lord,” she replied, tucking her hands behind her and wandering around the room. “We do not. It is a shame, but I feel we both know the reason why.” Her scarlet gaze found a viewport in the side of the ship and watched the icy planet below twisting lazily in space. “You already know that we ambushed you here.”

Losing interest in the wine, he set it on the table, studying the dark red liquid rather than look at her. “I know,” he admitted. “You covered it well - I doubt more than a handful of my staff will ever figure it out, but… yes. You were not in the Aspasis’s path by accident.”

She swallowed, feeling fear flutter in her breast. She knew, just as Theron did, that Saganu would never physically hurt her. She also knew that what she had to say would hurt him, perhaps too much for their rocky relationship to survive intact. For all she’d lost him so long ago, she didn’t want to lose what little she had left. But. “No. We were not. It took some time, but Theron managed to work out the pattern of your patrol.”

“Why, Nikali?” he asked bluntly, looking up from the wine and meeting her gaze. “Why was it so important for you to meet with me?” His eyes flickered briefly in the direction of the cockpit - of the absent Theron. “Alone?”

She exhaled slowly. “Because I have something important to tell you, and it was important - vital - to me that you hear it from me.” She hesitated, then took a step towards him. “And Theron respects you too much to force an audience upon you.”

There were only two things that Saganu could think of that would merit that serious expression in her scarlet eyes, that faint tremble of her lower lip, that flex of muscle in her shoulders that spoke of fingers twisting where they clasped against her spine, out of sight. He searched her face, her eyes - but there was no sign of illness, of impending disaster. If anything, she glowed - not just those luminous scarlet eyes, but her sapphire skin, and even her midnight-blue hair.

She glowed. 

“So,” he said hoarsely after a long, breathless moment, and reached out to cup her cheek gently in his large hand. “Are you with child, my Nikali? Do you carry Theron’s child beneath your heart?”

Tears trickled out of her eyes, diffusing their glow and spilling silver against his cobalt fingers. “Yes,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper, and coughed once. “Yes,” she tried again, her voice breathy but stronger. “Against everything we believed true, Theron and I have conceived a child together. How did you - how could you..?”

It hurt; it was a knife in his heart, twisting and tugging until he thought he might collapse from it. And none of it showed in his eyes, on his face - through the most supreme force of will, he showed her only that spark of joy that flickered ever so faintly. “You glow,” he whispered. “You shine in a way I have not seen since I bound you and Theron forever in marriage.”

“My Saganu,” she murmured, and he closed his eyes against the sudden stab, “I am sorry…”

[wornpodcast]

Eviction, Hawaii, and a little advice

Hello, lovely listeners, and welcome back to another episode of Worn. I'm your host, Silla Quiñones, and I'm here to explore the intricate threads of labor, self-discovery, growth, and the harsh realities of poverty. Today's episode is a sobering yet important one. We'll be delving into a topic that affects countless lives across the globe, with a focus on the US – evictions and notices.

Evictions are more than just notices to move; they're about people's lives being upended. Eviction notices arrive like unexpected storms, disrupting the fragile stability of those already teetering on the edge. Imagine receiving that letter, feeling the weight of uncertainty and fear, wondering where you'll lay your head next. Today, we're diving deep into this topic, exploring personal stories, the social fabric, and potential solutions.

The first story on our radar is of the families on Maui in Hawaii.

As many of us are aware, our friends in Hawaii, specifically on the island of Maui have suffered a horrendous fire. A fire which the Hawaii power utility company has taken responsibility for starting. They had over 60,000 utility poles which were outdated from, and I quote from the Ap article on it, “its own documents described as built to “an obsolete 1960s standard,””.

it is such a horrific situation they’ve caused by not prioritizing safety for well over 50 years on the island of Maui.

To compound this horrible event, eviction notices have been circulating. Yes, there are human beings that saw this disaster unfold and decided that it would be appropriate to claim that individuals affected are “in breach” of their leases during this crisis and uproot them. It is, in my opinion, such a shameful and horrific act to be party to.

Now something incredibly important to note is that according to the Statewide Office on Homelessness and Housing Solutions of Hawaii, it is absolutely a violation of the statewide eviction moratorium in place to protect those affected in by the fires.

Evictions during times of crisis are unfortunately common but frowned upon. Upheaving those dealing directly with the aftermath of natural disasters is discompassionate and irrational. If you or someone you knows has received an eviction notice please contact the State Landlord-Tenant Hotline or Legal Aid Society of Hawaii. Both numbers will be in description, and listed on the show’s show notes on tumblr.

Contact the State Landlord-Tenant Hotline (808-586-2634) or a legal services agency, such as the Legal Aid Society of Hawaii (808-536-4302), to seek information about your rights as a tenant if you are a Maui Resident.

Evictions are not isolated incidents; they're part of a complex web of systemic issues. They reveal the chasm between those who hold power and those who are vulnerable. This issue disproportionately affects marginalized communities, perpetuating cycles of poverty that are difficult to break. This is why I cannot encourage people enough to reach out to housing advocates and seek legal representation when faced with an eviction.

Remember, after a notice to quit, if you haven’t vacated the premises, then the landlord has to file the appropriate paperwork with the local courts. A notice to quit is not a legal document, if it is written in a way to incite fear or be threatening, take photos and document it! No judge is going to look favorably on such unprofessional and often times discriminatory behavior. Follow up with the courts directly, having legal representation is often optional but judges have been known to rule in tenant favors when they have legal representation vs in cases where tenants represent themselves.

Our society needs comprehensive changes – from policy shifts to community support networks. Some places are experimenting with alternative housing models, like cooperatives and community land trusts. These innovative approaches prioritize people over profits and aim to break the cycle of evictions because evictions do not exist in a vacuum; they’re a manifestation of a broken system. Thank you for joining us on this episode of Worn. Remember, the fabric of our society is woven by the stories we share and the actions we take. Stay compassionate, stay curious, and keep unraveling the threads that bind us. Remember to subscribe and share Worn with your friends and family. Until next time, remember that no matter how worn we may feel, we are always capable of embracing our strength and rewriting our stories. Stay resilient.

References:

Eviction Prevention Resources Statewide Office on Homelessness and Housing Solutions (.gov) https://homelessness.hawaii.gov/eviction-prevention/#:~:text=I%20received%20an%20eviction%20notice,your%20rights%20as%20a%20tenant.

[kithalstead]

Please tell me more about VM and his backstory? He doesn't know how old he is?

Also DM - the concept of a day mistress is quite interesting! I'd like to hear more about that!

Also some general worldbuilding questions-

When did the idea of day mistress/masters come around? Is there a gender neutral/plural term? Maybe day wardens? Lol

How long have vampires existed, and what created the first one?

How do vampires interact with society at large? So far it seems they are somewhat accepted and known about if donation centers are a thing.

Why couldn't the teen vampire drink donated blood? Were they refused or is it something else?

-🔮

I always feel like I've tricked people into asking about my stories like AHA YOU HAVE SPRUNG MY TRAP CARD!!! But nah, it's just nice to hear from you guys!! I really appreciate the interest in my writing!

Please tell me more about VM and his backstory? He doesn't know how old he is?

VM absolutely has no idea what his birthday is. He knows roughly when he was born and what time period he lived in, because he remembers vaguely when certain historical things happened, but he does not know how old he was at that time or if he was a vampire yet. He's basically got time blindness, because this beloved is a disaster neurospicy boy who just.... he doesn't remember, honestly. Plus, his childhood, like I said, wasn't great, and he just.... blocked it out. He was born to a wealthy man and a prostitute he'd paid for sex with, and VM was born out of wedlock, so he was neglected and abused by the men his mother brought around, and he allover had a bad time. So, he just doesn't remember most of it, and after he became a vampire, he drank and fucked and ignored time passing -- and then the world ended, and everyone who could be saved and sealed away in this base was, and VM had to step up because no one else was going to, and he hasn't really cared how old he is anymore, or when his birthday is, it's a lot less interesting to celebrate your birthday when you're 300+ years old 

Also DM - the concept of a day mistress is quite interesting! I'd like to hear more about that! When did the idea of day mistress/masters come around? Is there a gender neutral/plural term? Maybe day wardens? Lol

Yeah! So, Day Mistress! It's a position that vampires created when their society and human society merged, and it's the most trusted human in that vampire's life. They are entrusted with the entire homestead and the vampire's well-being. It is something like asking that person to take care of your kid when you die or something similar, entrusting your whole life to one person (or people, it isn't uncommon for vampires to have little groups of Day Masters/Mistresses, for polyamorous reasons or platonic, it's always nice to have a found family you know?) Anyway, it's more of an archaic term that some have fallen out of love with, so it has been swapped with newer vampires, to key person or key confidante to be gender neutral, and Day Mistress/Master is used for a romantic partner exclusively.

How long have vampires existed, and what created the first one?

They have been around as long as humans, if not longer, branched from an early common ancestor, vampires developed the ability to sustain themselves only on blood but also an incredible intolerance for UV rays from the sun. Similarly, creatures such as werewolves and the fey (among others which have either gone extinct or could survive outside the base - mermaids being the chief example) are from the same evolutionary line that branched somewhere as they developed strength and abilities that humans lack. 

How do vampires interact with society at large? So far it seems they are somewhat accepted and known about if donation centers are a thing.

So, the world has always had supernatural creatures, even before the end of the world, and they've hung around the fringes of society, interacting but very very singly, until the end happened, and they were forced into proximity with each other - because of this, humans HAD to accept and learn to deal with the supernatural creatures in their presence, especially because those supernatural beings were the reason that most of the humans made it to safety. And they wouldn't back down when the humans were trying to shut them out of decision making processes (VM is absolutely one of those who pushed for acceptance by suggesting blood donation centers specifically for vampires) People will still avoid them or be bigots, but like, you don't fuck with a vampire in close quarters, you know? It's very very rare when someone attacks a vampire, and because they're satiated with donated blood, the vampires don't have to go hunting and attacking humans

Why couldn't the teen vampire drink donated blood? Were they refused or is it something else?

DM's best friend growing up, Aurelia, was a weak, fragile girl, anemic and hemophiliac, was turned by mistake by someone who was not prepared to actually take care of a fledgling vampire, and because her body wasn't strong enough to handle the change, she couldn't pop her fangs out and no one taught her how to feed properly. Vampire siring is supposed to be a very official thing, and there's proper channels to do it through, like a marriage license or a birth certificate - paperwork you need to have in order to access the blood donation network. She didn't have that paperwork, and she couldn't feed directly on a human, so she died. 

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes: hello again my loves! Thank you for all your likes, reviews and specially your comments! I love it when you make questions and in general let me know what you think about the chapter. Thank you once more for all your support!

XII.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that run so deep they refuse to stop bleeding.

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

A cold September afternoon welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets of Tokyo, ever so vibrant; full of life, people, delicious food, kaleidoscopic colors, laughter, children running…. Couples holding hands.

A tall man with a blindfold walked down a heavily transited sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and a small bag of pastries hanging off the side. Slowly, he made his way further away from the more concentric streets towards a park, he found a bench near a fountain and took a seat placing his bag right next to him.

The world remained the same and yet everything seemed to have changed, the days were now long and boring, conversations with people didn’t manage to hold his attention for long; missions were repetitive. Everything seemed… dull, opaque, flavorless, empty…

Everything, except perhaps his students who were the only sliver of hope he had left. Those kids would make it far in life, they were going to change the world and he was going to be there to help them along the way. A sad smile pulls at his peachy lips. You would have liked that. After all, the kids also enjoyed your company back in the day when you were still his. It was as if you had become their adoptive mother of sorts at some point. Your nurturing nature guided you to care for others.

A year ago when Yuuji was placed under his care and tutelage at Jujutsu High it had been hard for the boy. At the time the kid had just lost his only living relative and to top it off he also consumed the most powerful curse ever known to man kind.

He had so much responsibility on his shoulders Satoru couldn’t help but make the connection with himself when he was a kid his age. That’s how Satoru decided to take him home for dinner one night; he couldn’t have been more pleased with his decision. Of course, you adored Yuuji. His sweet snd enthusiastic personality, his polite manners and naiveté made him just endearing in your eyes.

Even Megumi, who barely spoke with his more taciturn approach asked about you. Satoru didn’t know how to answer. The dark haired boy would also come and visit your home to help you prepare some foreign delicacies you loved to cook. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his white hair.

***-Flashback-***

“So where’s Y/N-san? I haven’t seen her in a long time?” Asked Megumi right after Satoru returned from New York. It caught him by surprise

“She… she doesn’t live in Japan anymore” was all he said before changing the subject. Megumi looked at him with eyes wide open but decided not to pry.

Yeah… that probably was weird. Someone asks you about your spouse and you say they moved out of the country. It was pretty obvious what that meant.

***~End Flash Back~***

Sighing he opened the small paper bag containing his mochi, he loved his desert but lately he didn’t even have the will to indulge in sweets anymore. Satoru consumed insane amounts of sugar to stimulate his brain. The problem was that during the past year all that stimulation manifested in the form of vivid memories of you. Your voice, your smell, your presence. It was as if his brain chose to take him down the path to misery, as if to rub on his face what he could never have.

As of last week you were officially not Y/N Gojo anymore. He finally signed those blasted papers giving you your freedom and his capitulation.

It had been one of the worst days of his life.

After signing the divorce Satoru went straight to the liquor store where he found that exotic apricot liquor he liked in New York and bought a bottle. Once he made it back home he proceeded to get drunk out of his mind. The next morning he woke up by the pool, laying down on a tanning chair, wearing only a pair of boxers and hugging your wedding picture.

His head was killing him, at some point he had emptied his insides in the pool. A disgusted grimace reminded him he had to hire some help to take care of the house that was an absolute disaster, faithfully reflecting the state of its owner.

That morning, nursing a hangover he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life.

But hey! On the positive side he didn’t remember at all that night! Which means he ‘probably’ didn’t think about you (yeah right! As if he was ever not thinking about you) and how much he hated the fact you were not his Y/N Gojo anymore. You were not his wife anymore…

The memory made him want to cry like a baby. He lost the person he loved the most in his life because he had been one flaming idiot.

Despite all his efforts he could not forget you. Wherever he went, whatever he did… there you were, tormenting his waking and sleeping hours like his own personal curse.

He tried to get over you. He tried to be the asshole you knew him to be. He slept with so many women he couldn’t even count. But at the end of the night, in the throes of passion it was your face that he saw, your body that he craved, your flavor that he yearned and your name the one he called out when he climaxed.

He was absolutely fucked.

Revisiting memories of the last night he saw you he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been at the time. It took him so long to realize he had always been in love with you but Satoru, being well… himself, he didn’t want to see or admit that he had been head over heels, madly in love with you. He was a cynical bastard and that had cost him dearly. He chose to lie to himself thinking that THE Gojo Satoru was above all human weaknesses… including love. What an ignorant fucker he had been.

He wondered how you were doing and if you ever thought about him.

A frown made his handsome face look stern. Well… you were not alone anymore. Suguru also had stayed back in New York with you. After Satoru returned to Japan, Ijichi told him Geto Suguru wouldn’t be working out of Japan anymore. He had requested a transfer to the Americas.

Of course he did…

It had been one of the reasons Satoru fucked so many women. In his delusional mind he was ‘getting even’ with you for sleeping with Suguru. Not that he knew for a fact you were sleeping with him or not but… I mean….

Come on! It’s mother fucking Geto Suguru we are talking about here! 6’2 of pure sculpted muscles, tattoos and bad boy looks but with a Prince Charming complex. Yeah… Satoru was green with jealousy because he knew his former best friend was a better man for you than he ever was.

Looking down at his mochi bag he realized the small item had paid the price of his anger as he uncurled his death grip from the bag. Sighing he tossed the ruined pastry in the trash can to his left.

“Miss you….” He whispered to the wind.

———–

“I’m home!” You announced walking into your apartment. Setting you bag down as well as a couple of grocery bags “did you start dinner already?” You ask pleasantly surprised although you already knew the answer to that question since all the apartment smelled fantastic. Suguru walked out of the kitchen with a big smile wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cheff’ nods “yes! I figured I would give you a hand tonight!” He answered as you walked to him to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a chaste kiss on his cheek “thank you Sugu. How was your mission?” You asked deciding to set up the table while Suguru finished dinner. “Not too bad actually, it was a special grade but nothing I couldn’t deal with” you returned a bright smile “I’m glad”

Your friendship with Suguru had slowly evolved into something else. You both spent all of your free time together. Your connection was deeper than mere sexual attraction. Suguru truly understood you, cared for you, shared your dreams and hopes. He was the type of poetic soul who would stay awake with you well into the night just to talk about the stars, the book you read that week that you loved, the new music you liked. It was wholesome.

On the more carnal side you desired Suguru and he desired you but you hadn’t taken what was going on between you two further than a few passionate make-out sessions and some cuddling.

After you last saw Satoru everything became worse before it got better. Suguru had been your rock, he had been there for the sleepless nights you spent crying. Without a word he held you in his strong arms and allowed you to let go. He knew you were deeply wounded, your emotions in disarray and your mental stability in peril. But Suguru never asked anything from you, he gave you the strength to go on. To take care of yourself, to keep going with your career. To have… hope.

It seemed like a dream to think that your life had changed so much in the span of a year. You weren’t able to recognise yourself anymore. Pain and duress molded you into someone new, better, more resilient, harder to hurt.

At this point, the only person you fully trusted was Suguru, he was always honest with you, no matter what happened or how much something hurt, he always remained true to himself and to you.

It was impossible not to love someone like him. He was the whole package.

Suguru was handsome, that was indisputable. But Geto was more than a pretty face. He was kind, truly kind! He did things out of the goodness of his heart, not because he expected anything in return. He was honest, Suguru Geto would never lie to you and THAT is what you loved the most about him.

He was patient.

He wanted you to be his but at the same time Suguru wanted you to heal, to have the chance to trust and love again, not as a means to forget about Satoru but because you wanted to choose a new path for yourself.

After diner you helped with the dishes and then settled on the couch. Suguru joined with a smile and two glasses of wine. He handed you one and sipped on the other one “what would you like to watch tonight Kitten?” He asked sitting next to you while picking a movie from the titles available on the screen of the tv.

“Anything you like! It’s your turn to pick” you said with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder making Suguru smile. These tender displays of affection always made him feel so warm. Passing an arm around your shoulders he kissed your forehead.

You look up into his hazel eyes you blush. Suguru didn’t lose a second before he closed the space between your lips. The kiss was soft but meaningful, you didn’t hesitate to return it; wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to then climb on his lap straddling his hips.

The handsome sorcerer leans back, relaxing and running his hands slowly up and down your naked thighs covered only by the small fabric of your shorts, he strokes them softly leaving a path of warmth in the wake of his touch. Suguru deepened the kiss. His tongue delved in your mouth, slowly inviting yours to join the delicious dance. After a few minutes you pulled back, you are breathless. Your heart beats fast and the adrenaline was making you dizzy in anticipation.

Suguru looks at you, leaning his forehead against yours “I missed you” he ads before engulfing you in another passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to reply. This time his lips are more demanding, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, requesting entrance. His tongue still tastes like the wine and you recognize his addictive flavor. Suddenly you find yourself laying on your back on the white couch, Suguru is on top of you and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Things are getting much more heated than you anticipated. Your hands roam the expanse of his back over hard muscles and warm skin covered only by the thin layer of his t-shirt. You know if you keep going this way you won’t be able to stop.

https://youtu.be/yBatuRGZAmA

A part of you doesn’t want this to end, you want to go all the way with Suguru. But… as much as you hate it, there is a tiny part of you that feels ambivalent about it. You wonder why is that you can’t just… do it!? You want Suguru! God! You desire him more than you can express with words, the growing wetness between your legs is evidence that you indeed were very much sexually attracted to him and yet your mind kept torturing you.

It was… complicated.

Your marriage with Satoru have been over longer than that piece of paper you got last week said. But erasing your feelings wasn’t something you could ever hope to do.

As much as you wanted to give yourself to Suguru it felt wrong that you were holding a part of yourself back. You wanted to give him everything, he deserved EVERYTHING of you. It wouldn’t be fair to just have sex with him when he deserved to be made love to.

You love Suguru, everyday that goes by your feelings for him grow and intensify, it was hard to even understand why would you hesitate and yet you did.

Your passionate kiss slowly becomes more tender until you are just sharing small pecks. Suguru pulls back with a little comforting smile; he felt the change in your body language, he knew what was going through your mind. You explained it to him before and he didn’t want to push you. He knew you needed to go at your own pace and he respected that.

“I’m… so-“ you starts apologetically but Suguru stops you with a little kiss “don’t… don’t apologize, I know baby…” he said reassuringly. Sealing his tender words with a kiss. When you separate again he asks “Alright little kitten, tell me… what’s it gonna be? ‘Dorian Grey’ or ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’?” Pulling you in his strong arms he cuddled with you on the couch, returning to the choices for movie you had.

You were so thankful for this man in your life “let’s go with ‘Only Lovers left Alive’”

With a last kiss he started the movie and pulled a blanket over you both.

He could wait, he would wait till the end of time. For you.

———-> Chapter 13/Part 1

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[fulltimemoaner]

Just something cute like Childe and Zhongli are crushing on each other but they think the other doesn't share their feelings so both of them are being dumd and trying very hard to hide their feelings. Meanwhile, everyone knows they're in love with each other.

Zhongli knows he is being irrational, there is nothing in the world that could possibly bind an adeptus and a human together, nothing short of disaster and broken hearts, anyways. Of course, there are adepti that could argue with his stance, such as the law consultant Yanfei, who is the very product of such a connection. However, the vast difference between a mere law consultant an ex archon is omnipresent in his mind, and so is the fact that he is more than five thousand years older than a certain troublemaker. When he sips his painstakingly prepared tea, his face sours, the leaves leaving a bitter tinge on his tongue, over-boiled and somewhat stale. There went six hours of wasted kitchen labour, all due to his own knack for overthinking and contemplating. He had all the time in the world, after all, to drown in his own musings, even if Hu Tao was still yelling at him to do his duties and other earthly errands. No, Zhongli didn’t look down on those, quite the opposite. He had taken to loving the simple life of the human Zhongli, without the hassles of being Morax. Humanity, however, came with its cons, such as attraction and irrationality. Again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t loved as an Adeptus, madly so, perhaps, but this wasn’t the time for him to be arguing with himself. He simply had to put his desires on a leash. He took another sip of bitter tea.

There was no way Ajax liked him back, after all. He was young, a few millennia so, (yes, he isn’t about to stop repeating that to himself) and strong, quick witted, humorous, loud, adventurous- Everything that Zhongli had lost in the past thousand years of being Morax. A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he leans his chin into the inside of his palm. In times like these, it’s hard not to miss Jueyun Karst and the company of his kind, it’s in times like these when he is filled with confusion and lack of understanding involving the humans he so greatly adores. He wonders if the loss of his Gnosis led to the loss of some of the divine, whether it brought him closer to the earthly beings, which was why he found his heart squeezing so hard at the thought of ginger hair and aquamarine eyes.

A loud thud shakes Zhongli out of his reverie, the sliding door of the Wangsheng Funeral parlour slamming open to reveal Hu Tao’s gleaming eyes, as well as a very handsome yet petrified Snezhnayan. “Zhongli!” The woman coos, her hand holding an iron grip on the Harbinger’s wrist. “Someone needs your assistance.”

“Tartaglia.” Zhongli clears his throat, easing into his front of apathy despite his hammering heartbeat.

“Ah, Mr. Zhongli.” Childe laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in that telltale way that radiated tides of awkwardness that would put his elemental abilities to shame. “There is a death within the Fatui,” He’s lying. No one has died under his watch. “And we need to bury him, it’s too hot to transport him back to Snezhnaya as it is.” His stuttering voice is probably giving him out, but Hu Tao elbows his ribs so hard he almost gasps.

“Ah, what a tragedy!” The parlour owner throws a hand over her eyes. “Such honoured guests suffering a loss like that! Zhongli, this calls for your assistance. I am so busy and I’m afraid my knowledge in Snezhnayan burial customs is vastly limited, so feel free to take this on!” She gives Zhongli the most suspicious thumbs up known to mankind and sticks her tongue out, and just like she always comes and goes, she practically evaporates out of the room.

Childe is sweating. He is staring at Zhongli with wide eyes and a suspicious tingle in his stomach, a playback of Scaramouche’s words rolling in his brain like a jammed tape.

“Go short your stupid crush out. Don’t show your face in the Northern Bank until you are ready to act normal, fucking idiot. You’re slowing us down, and by the Tsaritsa, I’m not above ratting you out and having you demoted to an errand boy.”

Childe almost cringes at the memory of the aggression in the Sixth Harbinger’s voice. He is going to kill him. Childe Tartaglia Ajax is a massive coward, and he is about to be murdered by his superior because he has a crush on a six thousand year old adeptus that is too good for him and wouldn’t bat-

“How did they die?”

Childe’s brain is like a train about to derail. Zhongli is up now, boiling some tea that smells suspiciously much like Jasmine, just like Ajax prefers it. If he tries to do as much as think of a single thing, all he can do is visualise Zhongli’s golden eyes gleaming underneath the lanterns of that odd Liyuan festival that Childe did not exactly comprehend, be it for his lack of interest at the time, or his complete concentration on that rich voice that kept whispering tales to him about the lanterns and the dead and the local myths.

“There is no one dead.” Childe blurts out, now or never. To be frank, he is absolutely shitting it. This is harder than fighting in the Abyss, worse than getting his ass kicked repeatedly by Traveller and that flying chicken that followed him around all the time-

“I seem to have misunderstood.” Zhongli watches him confusedly, teapot hanging forgotten on one hand. Childe can almost visualise him making that very same tea in his home in Snezhnaya, with the raging blizzards going strong outside, his soothing voice telling tales of dragons and giant monsters to his baby siblings to entertain them for a lack of anything better to do in the catastrophic winter. “You do not need my assistance?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not in that way.” Childe grunts, rubbing his eyes with both hands, stood ten feet away from Zhongli because he simply can’t stand the way his body burns when their shoulders brush together. The ex archon continues to look completely lost, his lips slightly open and his brows furrowed in his weak attempt to grasp the situation. Childe is stubborn, ridiculously brave at most instances, but above all, he is an idiot. And like an idiot, he says: “Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

Zhongli stills, blinking stupidly, unable to tell whether this was another one of the Harbinger’s jokes that their generational and cultural gap didn’t allow him to understand. He places the teapot down. “Excuse me?”

Childe wants to smack himself across the face. He forces out a loud laugh. “No, that was a joke!” He can feel the hairs on the side of his head sticking to his face. If the Abyss could swallow him again, now was the time. “What I mean is…” Childe takes in a deep breath. “Will you go out on a date with me?”

Zhongli stares at the wall across him, way past Ajax, into the eyes of some unseen divine force that is absolutely messing with him right then. “Did Hu Tao put you up to this?” After all, she always told him he needed to get laid, but he never understood where exactly he was supposed to be reclining. Mortal language had taken to weird expressions over the centuries.

“No, God, no,” Childe shakes his hands defensively. “Alright, mr. Zhongli, I’m so into you I can’t sleep at night, and I have been like that since I first saw you walking by Wanmin Restaurant, when you were trying some local delicacy and doing your ridiculous, bourgeoise critique on the authenticity of the flavours-” Childe goes quiet, his rant dying amidst its blooming as he watched Zhongli’s eyes soften and his brows tense, an unmistakable redness spreading over the adeptus’ face. “Mr. Zhongli?”

“Ajax, stop.” Zhongli hasn’t felt this flustered in thousands of years. He isn’t sure what it is about this human that is so awfully endearing, but it’s making him sear and liquify from the inside. “I’ll go out with you. We need to discuss the place and time, as well as the attire and the mood of the overall meeting, since leaving things unclear leads to misunderstandings that can not be resolved without-”

Ajax’s smile is stretching so wide across his face that he fears it’s going to split, a sudden ego boost booming so hard into his chest that he feels like he could fight the entire Fatui army and win. He takes a few steps forward and puts his hands on the table in front of the ex archon, hovering slightly above him. “Leave it to me.” He leans in closer and Zhongli can smell the exotic perfume on his skin. “There’s only one question left.”

“What?” Zhongli treads carefully, his jaw setting when a gloved hand finds his chin and tips his head back, fixing their gazes together.

“Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

[angelictaehyun]

PAIRING: richboy!kang taehyun x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: He’s been a pain in your ass since you began working at the club. He’s arrogant and insanely wealthy, and you’re struggling to simply pay tuition. Needless to say, it’s not quite the match made in heaven… or so it seems. 

WC. 11,200+

GENRE: rich kid au, country club au, e2l au, crack, fluff

WARNINGS: mild language, illegal activity, y/n’s an actual dumbass, and taehyun’s kind of a dick lol

.

You repeatedly tapped your pen against your sticky, worn checkbook, awaiting a response from the refined, old lady sitting comfortably under a patio umbrella. You, on the other hand, felt the scorching heat of the summer sun against your back, making you sweat uncontrollably—you could only hope you didn’t resemble a drenched pig. The woman eyed you, a bit too judgmentally for your liking, before pointing her perfectly manicured nail at the menu in her hand, “I want this pasta, but make it gluten-free. Throw in another iced tea, too… extra lemon, of course!”

You winced at her shrill voice. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, all of our pasta is made from flour,” you explained patiently. Her right eye twitched. You were an obstacle in her way of getting what she desired, she was angry. Lovely. However, above all, she was confused, “Just tell the chef to make it without flour, let him know it’s a special request. I don’t see the issue.”

“Ma’am, I’m telling you… there’s no way to make it without flour, we just don’t have the type of noodle you want in house.”

She drummed her hand on the table, absolutely fuming. She glanced at you like you kicked a puppy, it was absolutely infuriating. She grasped for nothing as her brain formulated any response, “This is outrageous! I want to speak with a manager. Now!”

You sighed, “Gladly.”

It was astounding, truly, the lack of self-awareness and consideration some people had... or, didn’t have. You wished, so badly, to tell them off, but you desperately needed the cash. After all, college wouldn’t pay for itself and the bills piling on your coffee table wouldn’t just magically disappear. You swiftly turned around and trudged away, scanning the vast garden for your manager, Yeonjun, but unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be found. You’d known him long enough to assume he was hiding in the manager’s office, his poor attempt to flee from the overbearing, entitled crowd. How he scammed his way into a managerial position, a position of authority… that was beyond you. 

You were halfway across the floor, pushing past another server when you felt an intense stare land on you. You halted in place, knowing exactly who the gaze belonged to. You glanced at the table stationed in the far corner of the garden, instantly meeting his piercing stare. He eyed you shamelessly, a signature habit of his, before throwing you a smug grin. You weren’t going to kid yourself, he wore the smirk well. 

Too bad he was a pompous ass. 

Kang Taehyun. You hated saying his name, it humanized him and he was anything but human. Rather, he was an evil, irritating demon spawn simply disguising himself as human. And the cherry on top? He was the absolute bane of your existence. 

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but you didn’t necessarily want to. He opened his mouth to call you over, but much to your dismay, decided against it and instead rose from his seat to saunter over to you. You tried fleeing the scene the millisecond he stood up, but the elderly lady directly in front of you shuffled quite slowly, blocking your exit and trapping you in place. You tapped your foot impatiently as he approached you. 

“You look… sweaty,” he observed, chuckling at your less-than-appealing state. Truth be told, though he didn’t like admitting it to himself, he thought you looked beautiful. 

“Taehy—” he forcibly cut you off by landing his slender finger on your lips. You ignored the spark you felt from the small contact. He let his gaze travel to your Cupid’s bow momentarily, a part of him wanting to kiss your frown away. 

“Ah, not Taehyun,” he reminded you smoothly. You considered biting his finger off, but you prided yourself on your outstanding professionalism. Granted, it significantly dwindled every time you spoke to him.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled monotonously. “Mr. Kang… if you don’t remove your hand from my mouth, I will shove a menu so far up your ass, you’ll choke,” you snapped, a pretty smile adorning your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Your customer service and approachable personality never fail to amaze me,” he stated, drawing his finger away from you. He continued despite the growing, fiery rage in your eyes, “I’d like another fork, mine’s a bit dirty.”

“That’s your problem. I’m not your waitress, I have my own customers to deal with, so if you don’t mind…”

He completely disregarded your subtle plea for him to leave. “For your information, I’d much rather prefer you as a server and not him,” he admitted, throwing a spare glance at his server—Hyunjin, if you were guessing from the blond hair. 

“That’s too bad…” you trailed as you mustered up the fakest sympathetic pout you could. You continued, “Anyways, I really hate to cut this short, but I’d better get going. I’m sure you’ll survive with your fork. You probably won’t get tetanus, but fingers crossed.”

“Yeah, best of luck with Cinderella’s stepmom,” he mumbled, gesturing to your awaiting customer. He flashed you a confident wink before whirling around and returning to his seat. You scoffed, your lips tilting downward into an ugly grimace. The snapping sound from a couple of feet away brought you out of your disgusted daze. The lady you had spoken to was repeatedly snapping her fingers in an attempt to grab your attention. You were met with an expectant gaze when you directed your focus back on her. She was poised, her spine in perfect posture and hands folded properly across her lap; her body language exhibited no sign of emotion until you reached her watchful glare, clearly telling you to hurry along. You inhaled sharply before plastering on a fake smile. You resumed your hunt for Yeonjun, but once again, you felt the weight of a cocky stare land on your back. 

He was challenging you, silently. You knew it. Unfortunately for him, you had no interest in playing his silly, childish game, so you clenched your jaw and walked away. 

· ──────────────────── ·

As odd as it was, you and your best friend had a favorite bench. It sat a block from the country club and in the middle of a hidden, rugged park, but it was your safe space; it’d been your favorite place since you both found it in fourth grade. After every grueling shift, Kai would meet you on the bench with dinner. The food was almost always inedible, but you weren’t there for his cooking, rather his company. He was already perched on the bench, kicking at a pebble beneath his feet. He heard you approach but kept his focus on the fascinating rock.

“God, took you long enough, I’ve been here forever. I started to think you ditched me for one of those rich boys,” he complained. When you didn’t retort with a snarky comeback like you normally would’ve, he turned from his spot and glanced at your disheveled figure, immediately letting out an obnoxious laugh.

You looked like shit.

Your hair was a disaster, the wisps of hair framing your face no longer considered stylish, but rather unkempt and as Kai liked to put it, “homeless-like.” Not only did you look bad, you felt unclean. The sweat behind your knees was quickly becoming uncomfortably sticky and your mascara was rubbing off, making you look like a rabid raccoon. 

Despite all that, you were happy to see Kai, his bubbly personality never failed to cheer you up—but you’d never let him be privy to that. 

You shot him the nastiest glare you could muster, but that proved difficult considering the little energy you had left.

“Aw, Y/N…”

“I’m going to quit, I swear to God. If I have to hear one more soccer mom complain about her salmon being too fishy, I’m going to have to start perfecting my mugshot pose,” you grumbled through clenched teeth. He made a noise of disagreement, “Let’s not throw your ass in jail just yet. Orange makes you look like a traffic cone.”

You shot him an indignant glare, “Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Anyways, I made us some hamburgers and managed to grab some extra soda cans before leaving home. So bone app the teeth or whatever.”

You snorted. He always brightened your mood, just a simple sentence could lift your sad spirit. You had to give it to him, the burger looked pretty appetizing… but you’d learned that with his cooking, much like anything else, appearances can be quite deceiving. Despite this, you inhaled your burger, ignoring the fact that the meat was undercooked and the mayonnaise was likely expired. You paid no attention to the fact that your soda was lukewarm and flat—you sipped on it regardless. Your mind was elsewhere, easily drowning out whatever Kai was ranting about. 

“... I know you probably had a bad day ‘cause of your boy,” he observed quietly.

You snapped your focus back, “My boy?”

“Yeah, your boy. The one you think is a self-righteous prick, but secretly think is really hot. Hm, what was it… Terry? Tyler? Taeyong?... Oh, I got it. Trash can.”

You scoffed, “Taehyun, most certainly, is not my boy. I can’t stand him. His head is so far up his flat ass, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

Kai nodded in feigned understanding. He tilted an eyebrow quizzically before opening his mouth, but you beat him to it.

“And I don’t think he’s cute!” 

“... And I’m Beyoncé.” 

You didn’t respond, too tired to argue with him. Instead, you let out a small noise of disagreement before resting your head on his broad shoulder, contently sipping on your warm soda. He knew how tired you were; everyday he watched you wear yourself down to practically nothing, it hurt him. He leaned his head against your own, placing a hand atop your thigh and squeezing reassuringly. You allowed yourself to relax, breathing in the humid, summer air. You stayed like that until he let out a small laugh. 

“Let’s rob him,” Kai suddenly suggested. He was joking, obviously, but you still perked at the idea. You turned to face him expectantly, straw loosely hanging from your mouth. He visibly retracted, “Jeez, Y/N, I was kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“… I’m not robbing someone.” He threw you a cautious glare before aggressively taking a large bite of his burger and chugging his flat soda. You were losing your mind, he was sure of it. You poked curiously, “So I’m assuming your stance on graffitiing is the same.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Obviously.”

You turned away, sulking, and he couldn’t help but snicker. You were his best friend and had been since second grade, but if he said he didn’t think you were a dumbass, he'd be lying. 

“Come on, it’s time to get you home, you have an early shift tomorrow,” he reminded suddenly, mouth still full. You smacked his arm, disgusted by his lack of basic manners. He opened his mouth to showcase all his unchewed food. 

You gagged. 

“You’re disgusting!” you screeched, shuffling away from him. He chased after you, catching you almost immediately. His long legs made it easy. He effortlessly tossed you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirming, and carried you to his car, “Hush, I know you love me.”

“Gross. Never.”

He slapped the back of your calf and you squeaked, “Kai! Put me down! Now!”

“No, not until you say it. Make it believable, too.”

He wasn’t joking, you knew that. Eleven years of friendship and he was still as shameless as the day you met him. More so, if anything. Yes, his eight-year-old self was quite the charmer. You grumbled monotonously, “Kai, what can I say… you’re the light of my life, my hero, my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably die. I love you, I guess.”

“Too sarcastic, but it’ll do,” he conceded. He set you down and held in a laugh. Your hair looked even worse than before. He slung an arm around your shoulder, “Okay, get in the car. Hurry. I’d rather not listen to you complain about your lack of beauty sleep… again.”

· ──────────────────── ·

You mindlessly typed in a complicated order as Yeonjun watched your gaze drift over to the garden. 

“You’ve pressed that button so much, the console’s probably broken. Cool it,” he reprimanded gently. Your attention snapped back to the screen which was littered with incorrect orders.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what has me so distracted today,” you mumbled sheepishly. He chuckled and gave you a comforting nudge on the shoulder, “I think I know exactly why.”

Your gaze followed his and instantly landed on Taehyun. As much as you hated to admit, he looked good. Great, even. It looked like he’d just walked out of a rager, especially with his tie undone and shirt untucked, which he pulled off beautifully. His hair was slightly disheveled and you suddenly had the strongest urge to run a hand through it. 

Your eyes widened at the sudden thought and you aggressively shoved it to the back of your mind. “I don’t like him!” 

“I never said you did.” he argued, suppressing a mirthful grin. Yeonjun reminded you of Kai, especially with his insistence on your attraction to Taehyun, or as you believed, lack thereof. He continued, “Just a reminder, though. The line between love and hate is so, so thin.”

Rather than responding and saying something that would surely get you fired, you huffed and turned your focus back on the order, unaware of your aggressive punching on the console’s screen. You were already having a rough day, but everyday spent at the country club was considered less-than-stellar. Yeonjun gave you a reassuring smile before sulking off to deal with another whiny, overbearing customer. You unconsciously let your gaze travel back over to Taehyun and was instantly met with a genuine smile, just not one directed to you. He laughed at a joke, oblivious to your longing and thank God, if he caught you staring, you’d never hear the end of it. His smile was just so pretty, you couldn’t help but feel giddy. Sure, you hated him—that’s what you told yourself—but you could appreciate a handsome face. As if on cue, Taehyun turned in your general direction and you quickly scrambled out of sight. As you turned, Hyunjin scrambled by you, the heavy tray resting on his shoulder nearly beheading you. His long, wavy blond hair, which was in a nice, neat half-ponytail at the beginning of his shift, was now splaying in every direction—he was beyond stressed. If the messy hair wasn’t enough, his hooded eyes were getting darker. You approached him as he grabbed a checkbook, “Hyun, you look like a mess.”

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I just have a lot of floor to cover, and they’re all extra demanding today,” he explained, short of breath. He groaned as he watched another set of people sit in his section and continued, “God, please cover me. I’ll owe you one. I’m already overwhelmed with my current table number.”

You laughed understandingly, “Of course.”

“You’re the best, it’s table thirty.” He squinted to get a good look, “Oh! I know that customer, he’s a great tipper. You should be just fine.”

You shifted your attention to the table in question, immediately deflating as you saw Taehyun sitting with a friend. You turned around to protest, but Hyunjin was already gone. 

You internally screamed before trudging over to his table, gathering all of your dignity... kissing his arrogant ass wasn’t necessarily on your agenda for today. When Taehyun saw you approach his table, he did little to hide his pleased smirk. You undid your balled fist. 

“Hi. My name is Y/N, I’ll be your server today,” you monotonously stated, an unenthusiastic but convincing smile plastering your face. To any other guest, it would’ve been believable, but Taehyun knew better; your server persona didn’t fool him.

“Y/N. What a pretty name,” his friend observed, a bit too flirtatiously for your liking. Taehyun noticed too, judging from the way he narrowed his eyes and tongued his cheek. And also the way he obviously kicked his friend’s leg under the table. You mustered a sweet smile, hoping to mask your disgust, “Thank you! That’s so… nice. Anyway, what would you like to drink? We got in a new Italian wine, just delivered today.”

“That’s alright, just water.”

“Water.”

Cheap. Especially for a pair of chaebol children. 

“Alright! I’ll be back momentarily,” you informed, smile dropping the instant you turned away. As you trailed back to the kitchen, you heard Taehyun give his friend a hushed reprimanding making you smirk. You passed Yeonjun, noticing he looked as if he was about to lose his sanity. You gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder—for someone so young, he managed well. Of course, he used his handsome face and charm as often as possible; his attractiveness and charisma was dangerous. He managed to grasp the attention of everyone and it aided him greatly. You pressed quizzically, “Jun, you don’t seem good.”

“Says you. You’re lover boy’s server. What a shocking, juicy turn of events. I’m on my toes,” he teased impishly. You stared at him vacantly. Yeonjun continued to poke fun, enjoying the lack of response you gave as you procrastinated to avoid returning to Taehyun’s table, but sadly, there was only so long it could take to fill a glass with water. Yeonjun pouted sympathetically, “Good luck.”

You didn’t need luck. No. To spend a precious hour or more, waiting on a privileged, disgustingly wealthy teenage boy, specifically Kang Taehyun, you needed patience, self-control, and temper management. You reminded yourself of just that as you approached him, placing his water near his plate, “Gentlemen, are you ready to order?”

You jotted down his friend’s order, ignoring the growing complexity as he piled on request after request, no sign of stopping. “... And I need it lukewarm. Not room temperature, but lukewarm.”

You diligently suppressed the eye roll that nearly bubbled up. Honestly, you’d dealt with far worse, Taehyun’s friend didn’t even scratch the surface. 

You had to wonder though, did people like this ever feel shame? 

You faced the cocky redhead, “And for you… Mr. Kang?”

You cringed. He didn’t miss the nearly imperceptible flash of disgust that crossed your expression. He grinned, “Just the lasagna. While you’re at it, I’d like another glass of water.”

“You already have a full glass,” you seethed, glancing at the glass you had just set down. He enjoyed this: testing you, pushing you, slowly dwindling your sanity until you snapped. He wanted to get a reaction from you, anything other than the bored, disinterested expression you gave him every single day. He smiled innocently, “What can I say… I like staying hydrated.”

His amusement was irritating. Unsurprisingly, his torment was based on the stupid, outdated notion that a boy has to show interest by picking on his crush, but you weren’t privy to his inner thought process. You suppressed another eye roll as you turned to grab a pitcher from Hyunjin, the boy sprinting behind you with a full tray. You felt bad for him, at least, until you remembered he pawned Taehyun’s table onto you and your pity became short lived. You filled an empty glass, increasingly aware of Taehyun’s piercing stare. Your emotionless expression would’ve given him no indication as to how nervous you felt if it weren’t for the slight blush that painted your face.  

He smirked victoriously. You hated it.

A breath of relief escaped you as his attention turned to his friend. He leaned back in his seat and lifted a hand to rest behind his head, accidentally smacking the pitcher, causing you to spill the cold water onto his lap. He flinched at the sudden icy contact. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you gasped, fishing a stray napkin from your apron. Normally, he would’ve brushed it off, considering it was his fault, but he felt pressured under the expectant gaze of his snobbish peer. Plus, he gained the reaction he wanted from you... something other than disgust. He feigned offense as he dramatically pushed his seat back and stood up, easily towering over you, “Next time, try not sucking at your job!”

He immediately regretted his outburst but he showed no sign of remorse, not when he had a reputation to uphold. God forbid, he could actually be a considerate person. 

More importantly, though, he pushed too far this time and there wasn’t much turning back. You winced at his tone, withering back from his harsh statement, though you quickly replaced your hurt with unadulterated rage. Your blood boiled as your vision went red, steam practically fuming from your ears. Your pained expression broke his heart and he nearly dropped his act, but before he could do or process anything, his silk shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his body as ice water seeped through. His slacks were drenched and his designer loafers were completely ruined. He didn’t pay much attention to that, though... not when you were an inch from his face, holding an empty water pitcher over his head.

“I quit,” you lowly hissed. You firmly shoved the pitcher into his hand and scoffed as he stumbled back from the force. All eyes were on you as you stalked off, hastily tossing your apron into the nearest trash can. Yeonjun gave you a quick nod, his subtle way of telling you he was proud. 

He’d get your resignation letter another day.

Taehyun helplessly called after you but it was useless. You were too far gone to care. 

· ──────────────────── ·

You slammed your car door shut, absolutely fuming. You blankly stared at the frog keychain hanging from your rearview mirror. Normally, you would’ve smiled at the small figurine, but in the moment, you wanted to punt it into another timezone. It’s cheeriness pissed you off to no end. You quickly fished your phone out to dial Kai’s number, the line ringing thrice before he picked up, groaning, “I’m trying to sleep.”

His voice seemed muffled, likely from the thirty plushies he insisted on sleeping with. 

“It’s dinner time.”

“It’s called a nap, genius.”

“Alright, well, I just quit my job… and I might have dumped a pitcher of water onto Taehyun’s stupid, privileged ass.”

The line fell silent. You wouldn’t have been surprised had he hung up on you—your tendency to act impulsively drove him up the wall and he was nearing his limit. You patiently awaited his response, likely a reprimanding scold. 

“Y/N, what the fuck.”

“He had it coming, I swear,” you promised. In detail, you explained your biased side of the story, ignoring the obvious judgement emanating from the opposite line. The minute you finished, you spotted Taehyun’s panicked figure run into the full parking lot, frantically searching for you; you ducked behind your steering wheel, praying he didn’t see you. You squeaked, cutting off Kai’s tangent, “Oh my God! Oh my God! He followed me!”

He sighed. “If you dumped ice water on me, I’d be chasing after you too.”

You peeked curiously from your spot, seeing he had yet to find you. The cogs in your mind churned slowly, mixing in with your rage, “What if we graffitied his house?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m serious, I want to do it! He can’t just get away with humiliating me in front of the entire club, waitstaff, and my manager. And graffitiing isn’t illegal… ish.”

You could practically picture his narrowed gaze, “It’s definitely, most certainly, illegal. Sunshine, I understand your anger, hell, I’d be outraged, but revenge isn’t always the answer. And graffiti isn’t the most… sound idea.”

You crossed your arms defensively, “It’s a genius idea.”

“It really isn’t.”

“I’m going to do it, regardless of if it’s a good idea or not. You’re either in or out.”

Once more, the line fell quiet. His mind churned, concluding there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d follow through—you were simply too chicken. He laughed, “Fine. I’m in.”

“Great! Find his address, I’ll be over soon.”

You hung up and regained your composure. Taehyun spotted your car as you buckled in your seatbelt, making direct eye contact with your enraged figure. You were surprised, he didn’t seem angry, rather regretful. Almost apologetic. 

But you didn’t care. 

You sped off the lot without sparing him a final glance. 

· ──────────────────── ·

“Have faith in me! Finding his address isn’t going to be hard. You know, I’m a tech whiz, it runs in the family.”

You snickered, “Beomgyu getting accepted into the computer science program at his university doesn’t mean you got the tech gene. You’re the worst with technology, you can’t even remember your laptop login half the time.”

He eyed you challengingly, before cracking his knuckles and typing furiously. Only a single minute had passed before he was yelling, “Jackpot! I found it!”

You were thrown for a loop. He was quite technologically inept, he couldn’t even open a browser without some trouble, let alone find an address. You stared at him quizzically, a smidge of doubt crossing your mind. He deflated, avoiding your hard gaze, “Okay… maybe, just maybe, I called Gyu before you arrived and had him help.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that tracks.”

You sighed and tossed yourself back on his plush bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered on his ceiling. You laughed quietly, you remembered putting them up there—it was really only a year ago. See, Kai had this whole star-sticker-related schtick or as he liked to put it, “Inability to have them as a child which subsequently caused emotional damage.”

You had just returned from a grueling shift and you were exhausted, weak, and insanely pissed—reason being Taehyun, of course.

It was always Taehyun.

In a frivolous attempt to cheer you up, Kai suggested pasting the stickers onto his ceiling. Honestly, it was more stressful than fun. He constantly wobbled around the bed, nearly dropping you several times as you sat perched on his broad shoulders and stuck them up. It kept you busy though, and thus, kept your mind off of Taehyun. 

It was funny, honestly. For someone that swore they hated him, you sure thought about him a lot. He took residence in your mind and you felt like the landlord trying to evict him. 

Even at that moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Of course, you were in denial. You told yourself it was natural to be thinking about him; after all, you were going to destroy his property. There was absolutely no other reason as to why he ran free in your mind… none at all. 

Kai knew you were overthinking. It wasn’t hard to tell, especially since your forehead usually tended to crease in the ugliest manner when you did. He tried reeling you out of your daze, “So, we’re going to commit a crime.”

“Yep.”

“... There’s no turning back.”

“I know. I’m not going to chicken out.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, of course you’d chicken out. You always did. He didn’t see any harm in indulging you with your idiotic plan, so he found the address. No harm, no foul. Right?

· ──────────────────── ·

You anxiously picked at the leather seating beneath you, nearly tearing a hole in the worn fabric. 

“Yo, cool it. Jihyo is already pretty fucked up,” Kai warned. Oh, Jihyo. You still couldn’t believe he named his old, rickety car—let alone after his ex. His car looked as if it had a mile left in it before it ultimately broke down, but you had to put some blind trust in Jihyo. After all, she was your getaway car if everything went south. You’d been sitting in Kai’s passenger seat for half an hour, coming up with nearly every excuse not to proceed with the crime.

“We really don’t have to do this. Not to mention, I don’t want to do this,” he grumbled. 

“Then why are you here?”

Imagine his surprise when you showed up at his door, decked out in all-black, stealthy gear, hope and adrenaline coursing through your body. He truly believed you would’ve backed down by now, and a small part of him hoped you still would, but the odds weren’t looking in his favor. 

“I’m not letting you go to jail! I can’t get through the school year without you, especially now that Jihyo—human Jihyo—is starting to spread her stupid, little personal agenda against me. Like, yeah, I broke up with you and that’s rough, but maybe next time, try not being manipulative… or a cheater,” he rambled. You flashed him a sympathetic smile; he said he was over it but you knew better. You patted his arm comfortingly and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, a flustered, shy smile replacing his pout. 

“Guess what? I think I know exactly what’ll make you feel better,” you whispered sweetly. 

His smile instantly turned down into an exasperated frown, “Mhm, let me guess… robbing the rich boy you have a crush on.”

“I don’t have a crush on him! Why would I like him? He yelled at me in front of the entire club! And we’re not robbing him, we’re simply… graffitiing his house. Tastefully. 

“So you admit, you had a crush on him.”

“No! I’m just saying!”

He pointedly rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the castle-like house across the street, not wanting to have that conversation with you. He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like idiot but you let it slide, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. 

“Okay, so the gate code is probably something stupid like his birthday, his mom is probably sentimental like that,” you mumbled to yourself. You tapped your foot anxiously as you tried to formulate a coherent plan. You slowly continued, “The only problem is the crazy amount of security cameras around his house. Like, who needs that many cameras? People are dying.”

“God, I hate you,” Kai grumbled.

You ignored him, “There has to be a blind spot, somewhere a camera won’t cover. Hm…” you studied the perimeter, searching for that camera-free sweet spot. At that moment, you found a tiny patch of grass, hidden under a massive oak tree. 

Bingo. 

You shook Kai’s arm aggressively, “Look! Right there, that’s the spot. That tree has to cover the camera.”

He rested his head against the steering wheel, “Let’s get this over with.”

As you both climbed out of his car, you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. The street was littered with fancy, expensive cars while Jihyo looked like she belonged in the dump, making you even angrier. Kai crept over to the sidewalk, insisting on creeping in the shadows like a vigilante. You, on the other hand, struggled to carry your duffel bag full of equipment, constantly getting slowed down by the exceptional weight. That was your fault though, you packed it full of necessary, outstandingly heavy equipment (necessary being a loose term). Alongside the many cans of paint sat a bag of Goldfish, three juice boxes (because Kai is a massive baby), a faulty navigation system, a not-at-all threatening ski mask, and a broken hammer. 

You didn’t remember packing that hammer. 

You settled in front of Taehyun’s gate, hoping your birthday theory was correct. Of course, simply because it was you and your luck was awful, it wasn’t. You began pressing random keys, hoping something would work but it was fruitless. Nothing worked, not even the basic combinations. You huffed, “I guess we’re going to have to climb our way in.”

You mentally prepared yourself as Kai sent a couple of prayers out for good measure. He eyed your duffel bag curiously before opening it, instantly met with a multitude of spray paint in all shades. He narrowed his eyes and scoffed, “Jesus, Y/N! Where the hell did you get all this shit?”

“... Craigslist.”

“Bullshit, you were kicked off Craigslist years ago.”

You winced, insulted by his easy remark—he knew how sensitive you were about that. You kicked a pebble sheepishly, mumbling softly, “Fine, I bought the paint from Soobin…”

His eyes widened comically as his heart practically ripped out of his chest, “Soobin?! Choi Soobin?! You can’t be serious. No, there’s no way you bought from the school drug dealer! He’s a criminal! He probably tried to toss in some of that devil’s lettuce with your purchase, huh? Or worse… crack!”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your head back, he was always so dramatic. “Kai, he’s not a criminal. He’ll occasionally sell an edible or two, but that’s it! He didn’t try to sell me anything. Actually, he gave me a pretty good deal on this stuff.”

“Lovely, a modern-day businessman,” he grumbled sarcastically. 

“Whatever, just help me climb the wall,” you huffed, zipping up your bag before tossing it over the blockade. Hesitantly, he got on one knee, muttering something you couldn’t quite hear—not that you wanted to anyways. You delicately stood on his knee as he pushed on your thighs in an attempt to boost you over. 

Honestly, you struggled. Your weak muscles did little to aid in your quest, but Kai’s strength helped. 

“God, take your sweet time, it’s not like your flat, piece of plywood ass is dangling in front of my face or anything. I’m about to throw up,” he gagged. 

You scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, complain all you want but this is the most action you’ll ever see.”

“... I won’t hesitate to drop you on your face.”

However, before he could follow on his threat, you managed to hoist yourself over the brick wall. You offered a hand to Kai but instead of accepting, he eyed it mockingly, knowing you weren’t strong enough to lift him. He stretched his legs before taking a step back, giving him a running start, and surprising you both when he successfully lifted himself.

You placed your hand over his mouth, “Shh.. whisper. We’re in enemy territory now.”

He licked your palm, nearly making you screech, “Gross!”

He childishly stuck his tongue out. You shook your head and began scrounging the duffel bag for the perfect paint color. Of course, you wanted to create a masterpiece worthy of Kang Taehyun... you even considered tagging it. Kai silently sat on the grass, aimlessly picking at the freshly-cut blades as he watched you happily paint. 

You were pleased to say that in the half an hour you’d been painting, nothing had gone awry... yet.

“The fuck is that supposed to be?” he questioned curiously, leaning closer to inspect the vulgar work. 

“Taehyun,” you said easily.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like a dick.”

“It’s called symbolism, Kai.” You stepped back to admire your work as if it were hung in the Louvre whilst Kai scrunched his nose, clearly offended by the unpleasant art.

“You know, it’s funny how you have the biggest crush on this dic—” Before he could further elaborate, he was interrupted by an awfully familiar voice. 

“What the hell are you doing on my front lawn?”

You cringed. You’d been caught red-handed. 

Kai turned slowly, surrendering with his hands up. You, however, kept your back turned, considering just going to hell with it and continuing your tasteful artwork. He glanced at you anxiously, silently pleading for you to put down the paint can. 

Only because Kai looked a second away from fainting, you huffed and turned around, mimicking his pose, the only difference being the bored expression plastered on your face. 

Taehyun stood in front of you, his arms crossed and irritation painted all over his body language, but as much as he tried to hide it, there was a glint of amusement behind his eyes. You hated how his obnoxious, stop sign hair managed to look amazing under the glow of the moonlight—it was beyond irritating. Arguably, his entire being was irritating. You held his gaze, silently challenging his presence. Kai, on the other hand, was sweating profusely and dramatically hyperventilating. He clutched onto your shoulder, failing to catch an actual breath, “Oh my God! I feel like my heart is pumping out lukewarm sewer water.”

He placed his hands on his knees as he hunched over and continued, “Please, Taehyun. Please, don’t hit me with your Lamborghini. I’m begging you.”

Taehyung blankly stared at the younger, completely forgetting he was even there. You rubbed your temple and hissed, “Will you shut the fuck up? You’re making this worse.”

“I don’t want to go to jail! My face is too pretty for jail, they’d murder me on sight for being the most gorgeous boy they’ve ever seen. God, please don’t call the cops… I’ll do anything,” Kai shamelessly begged. You were so close to punting him into the Pacific Ocean. Taehyun’s annoyingly gorgeous lips twisted into a smug grin as he directed his attention back on you, “Hm, and what about you, Princess? I don’t see you begging.”

You scoffed, “I’d rather eat Kai’s shoe.”

He simply hummed, “That’s too bad. You know, I have a family friend who’s a cop… I’ll convince him to go easy on you in jail.”

“The wealthy wielding control over the justice system… how unexpected.”

“Oh my God! Y/N’s kidding, she’ll do anything,” Kai blurted quickly, shooting you a death glare. Taehyun’s eyebrow lifted curiously, a satisfied smirk settling comfortably, “Is that true?”

“What the hell do you want?” you questioned hesitantly. 

“A date.”

You briefly considered his words before shoving Kai forward, “Yeah, go nuts. He’s all yours.”

“... With you.”

You threw your head back and let out an inappropriate, hearty laugh. Even Kai let out a small snicker before replacing it with a fake cough, but Taehyun didn’t seem amused. He watched you expectantly, awaiting an answer. 

“So this is the only way Kang Taehyun can score a date… by blackmailing them. You know, that actually makes sense,” you theorized to no one in particular. You simmered in silence for a short moment before Kai cleared his throat, hinting at his obvious discomfort. Taehyun was enjoying this, you just knew it. 

That broken hammer never looked better...

“Fine,” you conceded. You glared at him, biting your tongue to prevent you from going off on his pompous ass. Taehyun’s eyes lit up with hope. 

Kai let out a breath of relief before mumbling an apology and dragging you off the lawn. His grip on you tightened as you turned around one last time to shoot daggers at Taehyun. He stood comfortably in the middle of his manicured lawn, the porch lights behind him highlighting his pleased smirk, yet all you saw was red.

· ──────────────────── ·

Kai splayed across your bed, mindlessly picking at a random throw pillow while you spritzed a hint of perfume on your forearm. His gaze trailed over your figure curiously, “You’re quite dressed up for someone who’d rather sleep in a dumpster than go on this date.”

“Well I’m not about to walk into high society wearing a stained sweatshirt and joggers.”

He snorted, “Right, that’s the only reason.” You smoothed your shirt and gave yourself a once over, feeling quite confident in your choice of clothing. Kai wasn’t blind, he thought you looked nice, but he’d let pigs fly before he told you that. He continued, “You don’t look… that ugly.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that was the closest you’d ever get to a compliment from him, “Thanks.”

“Do you know where he’s taking you?” 

“Nope.”

If you were being honest, you didn’t care where he took you; you didn’t set any conscious expectations. 

“Oh! Before I forget…” Kai smirked as he dug around his backpack. He tossed you a small, blue bottle of mouthwash. He winked cheekily, “You never know… mayhaps you’ll kiss him.”

You nearly threw up, “I most certainly will not be kissing anyone tonight, especially not his pretentious ass. Besides, you know about my rule.”

He groaned. He definitely knew about your rule, it was all you talked about after getting dumped by your last ex. After your last failed relationship (or four) you created a no-kiss policy for your first three dates. You wanted to make sure your kisses weren’t in vain, and honestly, it was fun just watching them work for it. 

“The rule is dumb,” he reminded. 

“... You’re dumb.”

You were busy dodging a pillow when your doorbell rang, signaling Taehyun’s arrival. You were shocked he didn’t just notify his presence by honking his horn—for a pompous ass such as himself, you wouldn’t have been surprised. 

“It’s time,” you mumbled somberly. 

“He isn’t the Grim Reaper. This is a date, it’s supposed to be a happy thing!” he tried encouraging sweetly as you stalked down the staircase, but to no avail, your mood didn’t lighten in the slightest. 

You aggressively swung open your front door, nearly knocking Kai unconscious. Taehyun dressed simple but pleasant; his expensive, black sweater was expertly tucked into a nice set of slacks and the Cartier bracelet that adorned his wrist, perfectly accentuated his veins. His bright, red hair was styled messily and his cheeks were flushed, beautifully highlighting his angled nose and sharp jawline. Your mouth gaped, just slightly, as you drank him in—while he was always attractive, this specific look had you stunned. He held a single rose against his chest and it only made him look more ethereal, if that was even possible. When you looked up, you instantly noted the hint of panic in his eyes, which made you feel at ease. 

“Taehyun,” you blankly addressed.

“Y/N! You look amazing, so beautiful…” he trailed as he handed you the rose. You grabbed it and immediately shoved it into Kai’s chest.

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumbled, pushing past him and harshly hitting his shoulder.

“... Right.”

“Hey, try not to murder him, I can’t afford bail. I make minimum wage,” Kai reminded, flashing Taehyun a sympathetic smile as the older trailed closely behind you. You were about to open his car door when he came rushing by, insisting on opening it for you. In return, you sent him a nasty glare, “I’m capable of opening my own door.”

“I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“A gentleman doesn’t go off on someone in the middle of a public space,” you reminded.”

He sighed. A mere five minutes into the date and he already felt defeated. He wished he could form a proper apology, but it would be futile—you’d just shut him down. So he decided to express his apology in the form of something he knew you’d accept; needless to say, he had a trick or two up his Gucci sleeve. 

You kept your gaze focused on anything but him. Your arms were folded across your chest, the evident frown on your face doing very little to hide your irritation. Despite that, he still thought you looked beautiful… granted, every single time he spoke to you, you wore a frown so this wasn’t new to him. 

“You look so pretty,” he complimented as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“I know.”

Of course he deserved every ounce of your cold, unwelcoming demeanor, but it still hurt. He was flushed but you didn’t notice since you made an obvious effort to scoot as far away from him as possible, practically pressing yourself up against the car door. However, the painful silence quickly overwhelmed you, so you hesitantly threw him a bone, “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise but I know you’ll like it. It’s my way of apologizing.”

“This better be a hell of an apology.”

“I promise you it is.”

You noticed his sincerity. His usual cockiness was replaced with shyness and a twinge of guilt, and you found it endearing. You stayed quiet for the remainder of the car ride, only a small sound of confusion as he pulled into a half-empty parking lot of a local carnival. A young employee approached the car and gave Taehyun a permitting nod, making you suspicious. He drove past the entrance gate and straight into a private space, parking next to a dinky, old ice cream truck. The space was close to a nearby forest, a bit too secluded for your taste.

“So you’re going to kill me,” you observed, scanning the dark environment around you.

He rolled his eyes. “No.”

“That’s what a murderer would say,” you mumbled.

You were so stubborn, he knew that, yet he still let out an exasperated sigh. He frowned and climbed out of his car, shuffling to your side, only to find you were already halfway out. You didn’t say anything, choosing to send another hard glare his way instead.

He headed in the direction of the carnival—not the forest—and gestured you to follow him. You trailed behind, ignoring the damp mud that stuck to the bottom of your cheap shoes. You felt a bit overdressed, but when you glanced at Taehyun, you felt better. However, the more you thought about it, his outfit likely cost more than your college tuition, putting a slight dent in your ego. You focused your attention on the glowing moon instead of him, and when he turned to look at you, he was in awe. You seemed peaceful, or at least, not as pissed. 

It was nice.

He led you down to the middle of the fair where you saw a crowd gathered around a massive dunk tank. He seemed antsy, constantly shifting his weight and picked at the hem of his costly shirt. He momentarily abandoned your side and walked to the dunk tank operator, speaking briefly before grabbing a bucket filled of unknown stuff. 

When he walked back, you stared curiously at the bucket which was full of heavy baseballs. “This is my apology.”

Vague. 

As if he read your mind, he gently placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you to face the tank, pointing directly at the chair above the pool. “I’m going to be sitting on that chair. Your job is to throw them,” he gestured over to the bullseye, “at the target, until I’m submerged.”

You couldn’t suppress your smile. He was right, this was an apology you’d accept, an apology in the form of embarrassment. Smart boy. 

He didn’t necessarily look forward to ruining his cashmere sweater, but he would’ve done anything to make it up to you, and your bright smile told him he was on the right path. You let out a light laugh, picking up a baseball and tossing it carelessly. 

He spared you a final glance before shuffling off to his fate. He seemed to garner a lot of attention, the crowd had grown significantly larger since you first arrived. You held the ball in your hand as he climbed onto the chair—you were arguably a little too excited to send him into the cold, cold water. He seemed shaky, but you didn’t care. You threw the ball with no hesitation. 

Strike one. You missed by a long shot.

He suppressed a laugh. You shook your body, ridding yourself of any anxiousness before trying once more. 

Strike two. You were closer. Barely.

You had an unlimited amount of attempts, but the longer you failed, the more embarrassed you felt. He now seemed comfortable... prideful, even. Your face was flushed red from humiliation, but you tried to keep it from affecting you as you threw once more, this time, significantly more aggressive. 

Strike three. This was outright shameful.

“C’mon, you can do better than that…” he baited. He couldn’t help but tease, it didn’t matter that you were on a date. The crowd let out a collective laugh. You scoffed indignantly, cracking your neck and back, your stare darkening. You were about to hit the winning shot, he knew it. He loosened his grip on the chair and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed. 

The longing, heartfelt expression in his eyes had you flustered. You nodded understandingly, reeling in his genuine apology, and flashing him a sympathetic, sincere smile before throwing the baseball straight at the bullseye, sending him (and his expensive outfit) straight into the tank. 

You pumped a fist in the air as the crowd cheered. He emerged from the stale water, completely drenched. He shook hair away from his eyes before climbing from the tank and into a changing room, but not before finding your figure in the crowd. You wore a gentle, soft smile; for the first time, you looked at him with something other than hatred. 

It gave him hope. 

After changing, he appeared by your side as the crowd slowly dispersed, dressed a lot more comfortably. He changed into a pair of fitted (and designer, you just knew it) joggers and a clean, simple sweatshirt, pulled together with a silver chain hanging from his neck. He went from runway to streetwear yet he managed to look absolutely fantastic and it irked you. He seemed expectant yet nervous, constantly shifting his feet and biting his bottom lip. He needed reassurance and suddenly, you weren’t hesitant to provide it. 

After a minute of painful silence, you conceded. “I forgive you.”

A deep sigh of relief escaped him. He’d practically been holding his breath since that day and all of a sudden, this weight had been lifted off his chest. A wave of solace washed over him, “Thank god. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if that didn’t work.”

You giggled softly. He short-circuited for a mere second; being the cause of your melodious laugh had him speechless. It was all new to him. Your laugh was so sweet, soft, and a drastic contrast from the person he was used to. He yearned to hear it again. 

You peered up at him without saying a word.

He coughed awkwardly. “Right, uh, that didn’t take long at all. Let’s get you home, this was a waste of your time, I’m so sorry,” he rambled, turning in the direction of his car. You tilted your head questioningly. The night was still young and you had no interest in going back home. You were pleasantly surprised, all it took was a simple apology for your hidden, buried feelings to surface, though you knew how hard it was for him to apologize. Maybe that’s why you were so easy to forgive. You reached for his sleeve and gently tugged him back, “You asked me out on a date, so let’s do it.”

Going on an actual date was the last thing he expected. His plan for the night was to pick you up, try his best not to offend you more than he already had, and get dunked into some dirty, stale water. Of course he couldn’t refuse, seeing as his heart nearly soared from his chest. He nodded eagerly, “Y-yeah! Yeah! Okay, let’s have a date. Okay, uh, this is a carnival, right? I have to win you a plushie then, that’s just basic, carnival date knowledge. That’s the rule.”

You snorted. “Can’t break the rules then.”

He led you on over to the strength machine, eager to showcase his brawn—he hoped to impress you. His boyish mentality made you laugh, as endearing as it was, you couldn’t help but find it primitive and a bit childish. Nonetheless, you indulged him. He fished change from his wallet and you couldn’t help but notice the shiny, heavy, black card sitting comfortable in his wallet’s compartment; you suppressed an instinctual eye roll. He held the massive hammer in hand, attempting to hide the fact that it slightly weighed him down, despite his muscular build. He flashed you a confident wink before raining the hammer down on the target, sending the marker less than halfway up the pole. You coughed in an attempt to hide your laughter, you didn’t want to embarrass him, he’d already been dunked into a tank of mucky water. 

He stood dumbfounded, “Okay, this is rigged.”

“Mhm, right.”

“Fine, hotshot. Give it a whirl then,” he challenged. You raised an eyebrow cockily, yanking the hammer from his hand. It was simple, all you had to do was send the marker higher than his. You smugly grinned before trying your luck, the marker barely rising an inch. 

He slapped his knee and cackled. You were offended.

“This is rigged,” you mumbled. 

“S’ok, love. There’s plenty of other stuff to do that isn’t rigged,” he encouraged, throwing a side eye at the gamer operator who simply shrugged in return. He slung an arm around your shoulder, choosing not to dwell on the way his heartbeat sped, “Let’s go get you a prize.”

· ──────────────────── ·

For him to win you a singular prize, it took a game of whack-a-mole, a shared slice of pizza, a tuft of cotton candy, a vigorous pep talk, and sprinkle of beginner’s luck. It was a cheap, funky-looking ring, but you wore it with the utmost pride. 

You both talked excessively, really getting to know each other, and with each new detail, he fell harder. Your shy smile, adorable laugh, witty sense of humor… they were all just a bonus. Normally, you weren’t one to fall, if at all, but you found yourself going against your instinct and doing just that. In hindsight, though, it’d been a long time coming. He was hesitant to initiate any sort of skinship, considering you’d forgiven him an hour prior, but you proved opposite after you mindlessly reached for his hand the second you spotted your favorite ride.

“The spinning teacup! That’s a must!” You both felt the spark from the contact, it was unmistakable, but you both chose not to say anything. He let you drag him over, despite his aversion to the particular ride; he just couldn’t say no. 

“Fine, but promise me you won’t spin fast.”

“Pinky promise.”

As the cup turned, albeit at snail pace, he admired the light wind that flowed delicately through your hair. You had a certain aura, he couldn’t help but notice. It was enchanting. The moonlight kissed your skin beautifully, it had him watching in infatuated awe. 

“You’re staring.”

“Pssh, I’m not staring.” You eyed him and he crinkled his nose, “Fine, I was staring. I can’t help it, you’re beautiful.”

He didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from, perhaps it was just the motion sickness, but he didn’t regret it. You turned away from him, clearly flustered, and it made him smile. The ride ended quicker than he expected, but it was a welcomed relief, considering his well-being. The second he stepped from the cup, he fell to the floor. 

“I barely spun the cup! It turned, like, a mile an hour!”

“I’m sensitive! I get sick easily.” He lifted himself off the ground, just slightly, continuing with a corny joke. “Look at me on the floor, I guess some might say… I fell for you.”

You snorted, not at the cheesy line, but the aggressive finger-gun that accompanied it. He tried to wink but failed, immediately hunching over from the queasy feeling in his stomach, “Oh my God, I’m going to die.”

He made an ugly, inhuman noise. 

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m great. I just think it’s my time to go.”

He reminded you a lot of Kai—both of them had an affinity for being overly dramatic.

You rubbed his back soothingly. He felt so embarrassed, but the feeling was overshadowed by the sickly feeling. You continued caressing, making sure to glare at anyone that dared judge him. You crouched down until you were eye level and brushed his hair from his forehead, giving him a small smile. At that moment, he could’ve sworn you were an angel of some sort. He felt better instantly. 

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, waving his hand carelessly, telling you not to worry.

“Let’s just head home. I’ll have Kai pick us up, he’ll definitely do it.” You paused, crinkling your forehead in thought, “Scratch that, he just got his license and ran over a cone yesterday.” 

He stood up slowly, waving his hand once more. “In the recipe for a perfect carnival date, the ferris wheel is a must.”

You didn’t like where he was going with that. 

“You’re going to hurl if we go on that. For real, this time.”

He rested his hand atop his heart. “I won’t! I swear.”

“I don’t know...”

He laced his hand with your own and pulled you to the carnival’s main attraction. He fiddled with the ring on your finger, proudly glancing at it every once in a while.

Just your luck, a slightly younger couple was paired with you on the ferris wheel. The ride operator shoved the four of you into the cramped, tiny compartment, ignoring the silent plea Taehyun sent her way. The other couple sat hesitantly with a noticeable distance between them, awkwardly shifting every now and then. The young men—one blond, one with raven black hair—stayed quiet and you couldn’t help but think they were also on their first date. They often glanced at each other but didn’t talk and Taehyun had to hide his amusement. All four of you simmered in uncomfortable silence for a good portion of the ride. 

Taehyun unconsciously threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close as you laid your head on his shoulder. It was a subtle display of affection that made you blush, but he didn’t notice. Out of the corner of his eyes, Taehyun watched the blond boy copy his movement, just significantly clumsier—the poor boy accidentally smacked his boyfriend square on the nose. It took a lot for Taehyun (and you) to suppress an amused laugh.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” whispered the blond. His boyfriend let out a small, nervous laugh, “It’s okay.”

The black-haired boy gently rubbed his nose before reaching for his boyfriend’s hand—a simple compromise. The blond avoided eye contact with you and Taehyun, choosing to shift his gaze to the carnival below. The black-haired boy spoke first, “We’re kind of… new to dating.”

The blond cringed, still looking at the fair, before nodding in agreement. You giggled at the obvious tension, quickly comforting, “It’s cute! You two seem like an adorable couple.”

The couple smiled fondly at each other. The blond squeezed his boyfriend’s hand reassuringly and it made you smile. They seemed so in love, you were swooning. The remainder of the ride was silent and the couple chose to get off the ride after the first go-around. The blond meekly nodded his head in Taehyun’s direction and your boy gently returned the gesture with a shy, caring smile. 

As soon as they were out of earshot, you both broke into a fit of laughter, “Oh my God! He was totally copying you, that’s adorable!”

Taehyun gushed, “They both were so flustered! Too cute.”

You both spent the next go-around giggling, conversing about nothing, and sharing sweet, longing gazes. The carnival beneath you slowly began shutting down, each area turning their lighting off one by one. You kept your hand laced with his and while you glanced down the dying fair, he lovingly gazed at you. 

“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” You gestured below. He trained his gaze to the lack of vivid lighting around the carnival and sighed, “Yeah, I guess so.”

He squeezed your hand tighter. You didn’t want to part from him so soon and he shared your exact sentiment. 

· ──────────────────── ·

As Taehyun pulled into your driveway, you instantly spotted Kai’s silhouette lurking in your bedroom window.

“Jesus Christ,” you grumbled.

Kai had spent his night waiting for you to come home, eager to hear your nightmarish tale. He planned to head to his house and simply wait for your inevitable call, but when he left to grab takeout, he found himself straying back to your house. Your mother must’ve let him in, granted he was also gifted a key and he used it regularly. Your mind suddenly short-circuited by the feeling of Taehyun’s hand atop your own. If you noticed his tremble and clamminess, you didn’t mention it. 

He cleared his throat, “Let me walk you to your door.”

You sheepishly nodded, anxious to speak. If yesterday, someone had told you you would be this shy at the end of the night, you would’ve laughed in their face. He rushed to open your door and you let him, much to his surprise, without any snarky remark. The short distance to your front door didn’t stop him from holding your hand, leaving you a giggly, flustered mess.

You could practically feel Kai’s smirk. 

Taehyun stood awkwardly, frequently shifting his weight, while you nervously picked at your fingernail, both waiting for the other to break the silence. He took the first leap of faith, “I had a great time tonight, I hope you did too.”

You were too focused on his calloused thumb tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand, making you lose your train of thought, “Yeah! Yes! So fun!”

You winced at your overly enthusiastic response. The luminous light, hanging haphazardly above you did little to hide your anxiousness. He chuckled softly, glad he wasn’t the only nervous one, “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry you nearly threw up.” You both cringed at the recent memory. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Don’t worry. Weirdly, that’s not the worst thing to happen to me on a date.”

You tilted your head curiously, you wished to hear his story. Frankly, you found yourself wishing to hear everything about him, but before anything, you needed to get some stuff off your own chest. “I’m also sorry about other stuff. I have more to apologize than you, even before the incident, I was always so abrasive and mean, and I want to apologize for that. And, I, uh, also kind of broke into your house… so obviously I’m sorry about that too. Not to mention, I thin—” 

He placed his hand on your cheek and caressed softly, making you quiet. “It’s water under the bridge.”

You shyly smiled, looking away from his adoring gaze. He tried mustering up a cheesy line but he found himself losing focus, his eyes constantly straying to your lips; he couldn’t help it, he really wanted to kiss you. He sucked in a deep breath, gathering the courage to just do it, even though he knew you’d likely reject his advance. After all, it was just the first date and you only forgave him three hours ago.

Not to mention, Kai stole your phone to get Taehyun’s number just to inform him of your strict no-kiss policy.

He hesitantly brushed your hair behind your ear before leaning in slowly, his plush, attractive lips easily tempting you. Unfortunately for him, you kept to your rule. You splayed your hand across his chest before pushing him back gently, “Nice try, Romeo.”

He wasn’t surprised, it was a long shot anyways. He’d just regret it if he didn’t try. He nodded understandingly before leaning in once more, this time to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t hide the obvious blush that dusted your cheeks, making him grin. Maybe you weren’t as tough as you liked to seem. 

He felt hopeful.

“So for our next date, I was thinking mini golf,” he said enthusiastically. His eyes sparkled with excitement; he seemed thrilled, you couldn’t help but giggle, “Easy there tiger, I don’t recall ever saying anything about a second date.”

He leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek, pulling away only slightly to whisper, “I think I’ll be getting another date.”

He was right. He was definitely getting another date… and maybe, just maybe, you’d break your no-kiss rule.

[regina-del-cielo]

I was thinking about Copley’s Murder Conspirancy Board (mostly to deal with the absolute rage that the scene with Andy Copley and Booker gives me because ‘UGH THESE MEN ARE SO S T U P I D’), and... I may have a Theory about it - which mostly delves into how much Booker and Copley were in actual contact with each other before the events of the movie.

TL;DR: the Murder Conspirancy Board was built with a contribution of Booker’s information, and Copley was Very Confused on the workings of the Guard’s immortality

(the Essay(TM) is under the cut)

This excellent post expounds on how these two Grieving Dumbasses Definitely Did Not Think Their Plan Through, but still what little they did plan was not done in two days. And I would like to think that Booker would have required more than One (1) Persuasive Speech to get him to potentially get his family outed and put in danger for the (tiny) chance of getting a cure for their immortality.

So they’d been in contact for a while, possibly for almost the whole ‘break year’. Copley has lost his wife two years before the movie, so when he and Booker met again he’s one year into mourning. If Andy needed a break from their jobs, I can’t imagine in what mental state Booker must have been.

Copley probably started looking into the Guard because man, that Surabaya mission was a masterpiece, and how come these guys aren’t mercenary superstars? But they’re like ghosts, and the IDs don’t really match their supposed ages... and dealing with his wife’s death made him go into a Nerd Spiral. And then he finds Booker.

So this is how I think it went: they meet again. They talk. Copley is a grieving widower, Booker goes ‘man don’t I relate’. Booker is probably drunk a lot of the time (maybe so is Copley, misery loves company and all that). They enter a positive feedback loop of sharing grief over lost loved ones. Copley probably spills that he knows something, that they’ve done great things and they have a gift obviously. Booker probably answers along the lines of ‘fuck the gift, it sucks. Didn’t save my children when they needed it’. Copley goes ‘well, medicine is much better today. What if you could do it now?’ And the rest is history.

A) Booker ‘helped’ with the Murder Conspirancy Board

We know for a fact that the Conspirancy Board contains information about the Guard ‘from the last 150 years’ which is, approximately, the time photography’s been around. And it makes sense - photos are pretty easily accessible, and Copley knows their faces. He probably scanned them from one of those fake IDs and then used a facial recognition software to find them in historical photographic archives. But we know (and by the end of the movie so does he) that the last 150 years is a nothing in their lifespan. And while going backwards Copley may have found Booker’s original birth and/or marriage records, nothing of the sort would exist for Joe, Nicky and Andy.

Despite how much we joke about the Guard’s faces being Everywhere in museums and art galleries around the world, we can assume that they wouldn’t leave so many traces of them behind. The two known art pieces representing Andy in an obviously recognizable manner, her portrait with Achilles and the Rodin, are in the cave in Val d’Argent. I don’t believe Nicky and Joe wouldn’t have similar storage places, especially for Joe’s own art. Without photographic evidence and before newspapers, trying to pinpoint the three of them across history would be harder than finding a specific needle in a haystack of needles... unless someone tells you where to look. 

When Andy enters Copley’s living room, he calls her ‘Andromache the Scythian, the eternal warrior’. But how could Copley have known that Andy’s “real” name was Andromache? It’s not on her IDs, and it’s not the top choice for a full name that has Andy as a nickname. It’s a literary name, of course it would appear through history in poems or plays or novels. And how could he have associated Nicky and Joe precisely to the Crusades with what he knows of them from the last 150 years alone? For all he knew, they could have been as old as the Punic Wars, or as young as the Battle of Lepanto. Assuming he’d actually caught on on them being together together.

Well, I think Booker told him. Maybe just a thing here or there, while Commiserating on How It Sucks being an Immortal, like ‘Andy’s been around for so long she doesn’t even remember her true age, that’s exhausting’ or ‘Joe and Nicky are ridiculous for two people whose first meeting consisted of killing each other during the fucking Crusades’. And Copley fell into another Nerd Spiral that brought him to understand that holy shit these people are much older than I thought what the fuck.

B) Copley is Very Confused on How Immortality Actually Works

Copley talks to Andy by calling her ‘eternal warrior’ and talking of her immortality as if it was some kind of gift that can somehow be transferred from one body to another (debatable, but... ok). But he’s also flabbergasted by her not healing from Booker’s shot, and later with Nile he says ‘but then why would the immortality leave?’, which is... well, it makes it sound like he thinks the immortals are some sort of Chosen Ones.

Which means that Copley knows nothing about Lykon. He had no idea that at some point the Guard will stop healing.

But why would he not know, since I just conjectured that Booker told him enough about immortality for him to pinpoint the origins of the eldest members of the Guard? Why would Booker not have told him such a central detail of their “power”? (Booker obviously knows about Lykon. We see Andy telling Nile, and you can bet that ‘is this thing permanent?’ is probably the third question Booker ever asked when he met the others. He can’t not know)

I think it’s because despite having bonded over their grief, they are approaching this ‘discovering what the fuck is up with immortality’ from two extremely different sides. 

Copley wants to know if there is some biological aspect to their immortality that may be ‘transferred’ or ‘activated’ in any random human being. He’s gotten into his head that their regenerative powers can end all diseases. Which. I could probably write another entire separate post on how this is far-fetched at best. Point being, Copley never thought his endeavour as taking the immortality from the Guard to give it to someone else. He thinks Andy and the others are going to live forever and ever.

Booker knows their immortality is not forever and ever, theoretically. He knows that at some point, in the future, he’s going to stop healing and die. But he Wants to Talk to the Manager about it, damn it. He wants his death to be a certainty he can quantify, not something that may happen in another five thousand years based on the data he’s got at his disposal. He wants to have the choice to end it tomorrow or in fifty years - if discovering what causes his immortality saves other people, well that’s an undeniable bonus, but it’s not the focus of his motivation.

Just like Booker and Copley didn’t cover all the potential ways in which Their Plan Could Go Wrong (and honestly, has Booker not learned yet just how fast they revive on average? He tells Nile that ‘big wounds take longer’, and still he revived from the grenade in three/four minutes!), I think they also didn’t Delve into their motivations for seeking that knowledge. Booker probably thought that Copley knowing of their immortality being relative was irrelevant, because of course the doctors will find something (the thing that makes them stop healing), and then he’ll die anyway, so who cares? 

And Copley... Copley was probably Convinced that the Guard was a group of superheroes that just needed to be suggested a new investment plan for using their powers, because saving individuals during wars and natural disasters is very noble and good, but come on, it’s inefficient as hell, they can do much better!

(It absolutely sends me that Copley saw the kind of accomplishments reached by the people that the Guard saved, or by their direct descendants, and STILL it didn’t occur to him that there was a pretty decent chance that sometime in the future they would save someone that would find the cure for ALS and/or other shitty diseases! HE’S LITERALLY HINDERING THEM!!!) 

[sumsebien]

by design prologue // Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: y/n and friedrich find out who exactly they are betrothed to

word count: 2,6k

warnings: bad parenting

a/n: this is the 5th time i have rewritten this how crazy and has been changed 3 times since i posted that sneak peak :)) i am nuts. also, i am running out of gifs so i am working on a collage i promise

When Friedrich Wilheim Ludwig was born, his father had asked his advisors to draw up a route. Friedrich would study in Prussia, marry a Prussian lady and ascend to the throne as a true son of this great nation, like all of his predecessors.

What he did not plan, however, was that his wife, Frederica had no intention of continuing that tradition. Frederica had other plans for her son. She wanted Friedrich to be the man he wanted to be, not the prince or the king that his father wanted him to be.

She did everything in her power to teach her son just that. Before anything, he was a human being first. Not his title, not the heir, a person.

The King, had he stayed at home for more than a day, would have seen that Friedrich was shaping into a different man than his father had envisioned. He was independent, easygoing and humble.

When the King did realize it, it was too late. It was the summer before Friedrich was to enter a prestigious Prussian university. His aunt Charlotte came to visit with an invitation for his son to study at Cambridge. The King laughed, there was no way his son wanted to go there. Then the next morning, Friedrich had gotten everything ready to go, he was dead set on Cambridge.

There was nothing more the King could do.

The next thing he knew, his son wanted an English wife. It was a complete disaster. And it was all his incompetent wife’s fault. “Let him live on his own. Get all the reckless impulses out,” she said. Stupid women.

“My love, whatever is bothering you.”

The King looked over to his side, meeting the eyes of his mistress. Sweet Bernadine. She was the only thing he looked forward to all day. “Friedrich. He’s not accepting any of the women he was supposed to marry.”

“And why, may I ask?”

“Because they are not his type. Nice sensible Prussian girls. What is wrong with him? He asked me for a deal. Ridiculous!”

“Maybe you should agree.”

“That is the most absurd thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Is it?”

What the King was going to find out was that Bernadine had a sister who became a Duchess in England. And she had all the gossip sources in the world. She knew absolutely everything about the ins and outs of the ton and she had a beautiful daughter, unwed.

The English girl his son had been eyeing was already in love with someone else. And Friedrich did not seem like the type to force her into a marriage against her will.

If he took his son up on that deal, he’d win.

...

One can count on many things in life. For the ton, it is that grief will not put a stop to Lady Trowbridge’s annual balls. The recently widowed lady’s celebration seemed to be even more flamboyant than when her dear husband was still alive.

And even more scandalous.

Last night, the Incomparable of the season was seen changing her horses in midstream.

To refresh your memory, dear readers, Miss Bridgerton caught the eye of the Duke of Hastings at the beginning of the season. However, for reasons unknown, the Duke was hesitant in asking for her hand, letting Miss Bridgerton slip from his grasp into the hands of a Prince. Our most promising Debutante was then seen exclusively with the Prince of Prussia-the royal suitor of our dreams at balls and promenades for the whole of last week. It would also appear that the Duke had moved on with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence and heiress to their lush family fortunes.

There were talks today that both men might even take their final steps in securing a ring on their ladies’ fingers by the end of the night.

Miss Bridgerton did emerge from the Trowbridge estate engaged. But not to whom we thought she would. It was the Duke of Hastings that captured the heart and hand of the Diamond of the Season. Miss Y/L/N and Prince Friedrich were both left empty-handed.

This Author is seasoned enough to say she is not easily shocked by scandals nowadays. However, that is not to say the events that transpired last night didn’t raise her eyebrows.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

...

“Your Highness. Pst. Your Highness!”

Friedrich sighed, turning over in hopes silence would return to him. He had just fallen asleep finally. It couldn’t possibly be morning already.

“Your Highness.”

The voice grew from a whisper to a normal speaking voice which was too loud for someone who was hoping for silence. He peaked open one eye and closed them again after he recognized the familiar face of his valet, Heinrich.

“Not now. I am sleeping.”

“Your Highness, it’s urgent.”

“It can wait until I wake up.”

There was a pause. “It’s your father, sir.”

Friedrich sighed. “Then it can definitely wait.”

Getting out of this bed would be to accept the truth. He should have known that his father would always get his way. But that was definitely for later. Right now, sleep.

Friedrich waited for the sound of footsteps and the click of the doors so that he could finally get the peace he was aching for. But it never came, which meant: ”Why are you still here, Heinrich?” he mumbled into the pillow.

No answers came.

Friedrich groaned and sat up.

Of course, Heinrich was still there. At the sight of the Prince finally giving in, Heinrich rushed to open the blinds but was stopped by the hand Friedrich raised. “If you want to wake me up and listen to what my father has to say, you’ll leave those curtains alone.”

“Very well, sir,” Heinrich nodded, folding his arms behind his back and cleared his voice. “Your betrothed is Lady Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence. Your father also asked that you confirm a couple of details for your wedding at Sanssouci Palace.”

“I am not getting married at Sanssouci.”

“Sir, I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Heinrich, I will not look at his smug face when he sees that he has won. I will get married here.”

“But you leave today.”

“Then I will marry before I leave.”

Heinrich had been his valet ever since he moved to England. At first, Friedrich thought Heinrich was spying on him and reporting all of his activities to his father. But after one incident which involved a very drunk Friedrich, a lost key, Friedrich trusted Heinrich with his life. They had even grown to become close friends.

“Very well, sir. I will get the carriages ready.”

Before Heinrich left, he placed a small stack of paper on the desk, telling Friedrich to read it. There were numerous types of documents, all on the Lady Y/N Y/L/N, his betrothed.

Friedrich flipped through as he continued on with his morning routine.

Highborn. Excessively rich. The typical lady of the ton. So far there was nothing that gave Friedrich a reason not to dread his future. Because there was probably nothing. He thought bitterly.

When Friedrich suggested the deal, he didn’t think he’d lose. If Friedrich found himself a wife by the end of the London season, he would get to marry her. If he did not however, his father would have every right to intervene.

How hard could it be to fall in love?

As it turned out, it was not. It was quite simple. He met her, spoke to her and knew. He loved her the moment she laughed ridiculously loudly at his compliment. Her hair, her eyes and of course her laugh which very much alarmed the Queen. She wished to have a large family, like he always wanted as a kid but never got. She was wonderful at conversations. She was perfect...well she would have been perfect, had she been in love with him.

Now, he had lost both the girl and control of his fate. He was now doomed to live the rest of his life with a choice made by his father. Someone who was definitely pretentious, incurious and worshipped titles-everything his father wanted in a wife. Friedrich knew his father would have done anything for his mother to be like that. He felt fortunate that she had never been and never would be one of those things.

Now he could only hope his future children were going to be half as lucky.

...

You were stirred from a dreamless night of sleep by the click of the doors. Truthfully, you hadn’t been sleeping that well these past few days, even the slightest of noises could wake you. You prompted yourself up on your elbows, seeing Olivia-your lady’s maid at the door. She peeked her head in, only coming in when she saw that you were awake.

“Do you have my Whistledown?” was the first thing you asked.

It had become your custom. Your mother wouldn’t let you read the words of that vile woman, lest you learn from the actions of those scandalous ladies. She always acted as though she was above gossip when the entire ton knew the centre of her existence was the scandalous tales told behind the curtains at Madame Delacroix’s fitting room.

Olivia handed you the papers and rushed to your dresser, digging for a dress. “You must be quick. They are asking for you in the drawing room. I told them I was coming to get you.”

You immediately jumped out of bed, knowing your father’s temper all too well. “They’re home again?”

Olivia nodded. “Another cook has been fired. I am scared I might be next.”

That was odd, to say the least. Everything around the house had been a little off lately. Normally, from the moment you woke up until afternoon tea was served, you had all the peace and quiet to yourself. Both of your parents usually left by this time, your father was with his business partners and your mother with Madame Delacroix and her gossip sources. A couple of household staff had also been sacked. It was probably because your father had been even more quick-tempered lately.

Or could the events of last night be the cause?

You knew they were disappointed when you came home without an offer from the Duke of Hastings. But the season hadn’t ended yet. There was still time to consider your other suitors. Besides, it was absolutely no surprise that his heart had belonged to Miss Bridgerton. The dances and the flowers he gave you were nothing more than politeness and perhaps to sooth the jealousy he felt seeing his love with another man. A Prince for that matter.

You got ready quickly, racing down the stairs. At the sound of your footsteps, your mother swung the door open and tugged on your wrist.

“Quickly!” she spat and gave Olivia a glare before closing the door in her face.

Your father sat with his eyes closed, barely breathing. He was completely still, almost statue-like.

“Darling,” your mother chirped, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to send some life into him. He opened his eyes. Dull grey, stern and void of hope or happiness.

You knew this look. It had been the source for all of your childhood terror, the look of disappointment and ominous news.

“Get ready. You’re marrying the Prince of Prussia.”

You choked back a breath, feeling all of your blood draining from your face to your neck. You felt like you were burning but at the same time freezing cold. You couldn’t say anything. Not just because you were speechless. You were not allowed to. The only thing you could do was nod, say ‘yes, sir’ and do exactly as you were told.

You were their only daughter.

Throughout your childhood, your father made no attempts to hide his disappointment in you. And your mother was always too afraid to ever do anything. She couldn’t give him another child so they had to learn to tolerate you. They would rarely take you with them anywhere. It was as though you had never existed. You’d always feel proud after finishing a piano piece or after a painting was fully colored but they never cared. For a long time you thought that all parents acted this way, that it was normal. It wasn’t. Other parents took their children to the park, bought them puppies when they succeeded. For you, it was your job and you got no pay, no praise. Nothing. Ever.

You accepted that because there was no other way. And at some point along the way, you stopped looking for their approval. It didn’t mean that they stopped having control over you though. If you wanted a peaceful life, you had better obeyed.

...

Friedrich pulled on his gloves as they made their way quickly into the abbey.

He hated being late and he was late. They were running behind schedule too. Had Friedrich not squeezed a last minute wedding ceremony, he would have already left for Prussia by now.

Needless to say, there was no time for a traditional ceremony. They were getting in and out of the abbey in half an hour or else they would have to wait until tomorrow for another ship.

At the end of the aisle, Friedrich was greeted by his father’s old friend and his future father-in-law, the Duke of Clarence. The man was the picture of a typical aristocratic Englishman with his hair styled neatly, a cane in his hand. Next to him was the Duchess of Clarence, a lanky woman with hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. There was an air of intimidation about them. Friedrich did not know enough to be afraid of them, though, he could imagine most of the ton were.

“Welcome, your Highness. It is a pleasure to see you again.” He bowed his head. “You’ve certainly grown since the last time I saw you at Sanssouci Palace.”

Friedrich only smiled. He did not remember ever meeting the man at all but did not mean to be impolite.

The Duchess spoke in a sweet voice, extending her arm towards the door. “Well, come, Y/N! We shouldn’t keep his Highness waiting for long.”

Friedrich felt his throat closing as his heart picked up its pace. It wasn’t the good kind of nervous butterflies one got from being near their beloved, it was anxious anticipation for his fate to be revealed.

From behind the archway came a beautiful young lady. He recognized you. You had briefly met before at the Salisbury ball before but never engaged in a dance.

“My Lady.” Friedrich bowed his head.

You were a little distracted, as if you did not hear him at all. He smiled, about to greet you again when the most bizzare thing happened.

Your father cleared his voice and flicked his cane against the skirt of your dress. That snapped you right out of your daze, your eyes lowered immediately as you bent your legs into a curtsy like a well-oiled machine. “Your Highness.”

Friedrich could not believe his eyes.

He turned to Heinrich to find his friend’s eyebrows tipped inwards. So it wasn’t just him who saw the strange way your father treated you. Like some kind of circus animal.

Friedrich nodded to you but kept a close eye on your father. The man smiled when he caught Friedrich staring. But there was something eerie about it. His mouth stretched into a smile but his eyes stayed stern.

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[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Tropey Tuesday

Over the past year my pandemic brain decided it would produce happy chemicals exclusively by reading and writing Stony fanfiction. On the advice of counsel, I decided to take my happy chemicals where I could get’em. And the result is that I’ve had the tremendous pleasure of reading some absolutely incredible works of art by some immensely talented people. And since it’s @cap-ironman RecWeek, I figured this is as good of an excuse as any to make some posts recommending my favs (and try to keep self-recs to a minimum, but I’m only human).

I skipped Multiverse Monday since I’m still not well-versed enough in the multiverse to talk about it with any kind of recommendational authority, but today is Tropey Tuesday, and so I would like to share some fics from my all-time-favorite, major-reason-I-bother-with-the-MCU, gets-me-every-time trope:

Found Family

And so, without further ado, here are some Found Family Stony fics that I simply adore.

Avengers Family Ficlets

Author: elwenyere

Word Count: 8,548

Summary: “You built a neural network that analyzes squash,” Bruce said flatly, “and you attached it to a laser.” A collection of short stories set in the extended Domestic Avengers Universe.

Why You Should Read It:

Thing number one that you should understand about me is that I would be perfectly happy with a story about body-less entities making funny quips at each other in  a featureless void, and anything else is just a bonus. Elwenyere’s stories consistently get the banter down so unbelievably, ridiculously well that when you find out they also have heart, creativity, well-developed characters, and so much damn feeling in them, it feels like an embarrassment of riches.

Go read all of their stuff, please, but this one’s a great place to start. It’s got everything you could possibly want in a fic: over-competitive pumpkin carving, emotional hospital confessions, Christmas decorations that come to life and attack people, crab dip, Steve Rogers accidentally ruining Thanksgiving through the sheer power of his own snark, and most importantly, a bunch of human disasters that somehow make a beautiful family together.

Executive Party

Author: copperbadge

Word Count: 3,228

Summary: Tony's terrible December is suddenly looking up.

Why You Should Read It:

Copperbadge is another author where you should read everything they’ve put out there. They’ve got this phenomenally creative mind that manages to consistently draw out deeply human stories that can kinda catch you off-guard in the places they find touching moments. You might’ve heard of their very popular Foodieverse, which is an incredibly creative AU with the Avengers in the food service industry, but this is the one I come to whenever I’m looking to indulge in my favorite trope.

Tony’s looking forward to spending the night before SI breaks for Christmas doing paperwork. Steve gets the Avengers to have an impromptu video game Christmas Party in his office instead. Cb’s also got a gift for banter (I have a type when it comes to writers, ok?), and the little details like Steve’s carnage record on GTA, Natasha’s Russian appreciation for country music, and Steve’s SHIELD break-up mixtape make it just a goddamn delight to read.

patchwork people

Author: itsAllAvengers

Word Count: 28,247

Summary: It was a pretty well-known fact that Tony Stark had control issues.It was far less well-known why, though.

CW: Past abuse and non-con (not by main pairing)

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re the kind of person who regularly thinks to themself “You know what Tony Stark needs? More trauma,” then this is the fic  for you.

Tony’s got some serious trust issues and PTSD thanks to some shitty, shitty exes. This is the story about how Tony learns to trust again, Avenger by Avenger, in his new Found Family. Come for the Whump, stay for the found family insomnia infomercial parties and Steve Rogers getting arrested for enacting some sweet, sweet karmic justice.

And now we get into a sub-genre of Found Family that is also a huge weakness of mine: Tony thinks he’s only tolerated instead of wanted, and his found family convinces him otherwise.

Some Things Shouldn’t Be a Chore

Author: scifigrl47

Word Count: 22,187

Summary: Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound.  The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick. And some things shouldn't be a chore.

Why You Should Read It:

Honestly it feels a bit like cheating to recommend the first work in scifigrl47′s tremendously popular Toasterverse, since I’m pretty sure a lot of people who don’t even like or regularly read fanfiction have liked this one, even indirectly. Sci is so ludicrously good at building an engaging, creative, character-driven universe that this series is responsible for most of the fanon you know and love about MCU fanfics. Tony’s bot Butterfingers? Sci made him up for this story. Thor’s love of Pop Tarts? Clint the vent goblin? All sci. They’re just that damn good at world-building.

In this fic, the Avengers try out a chore chart. Hilarity and feels ensue. I don’t want to say anymore and risk spoiling it because if you’ve managed to get far enough in Stony fanfiction to read this post and haven’t yet read the Toasterverse, I want to keep the experience pristine for you to enjoy. Please read this. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll reserve a hypothetical genie wish to make this series the actually canon MCU (God knows I have).

Hold the Things You Wanna Say

Author: SailorChibi

Word Count: 6,316

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay. He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really. What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always. This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

CW: Abuse, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting

Why You Should Read It:

SailorChibi’s one of those authors I’ve been meaning to get around to reading all their stuff for, but it’s tricky when you have a short attention span and an author that is just so damn prolific. They’re a multi-fandom maven consistently putting out some really great stuff, and they’re absolutely worth checking out.

This story’s a real yank on the heartstrings, and as someone who can really identify with Tony’s fear of failing the people he cares about, the point in the story where he reaches his low is just unbelievably poignant. But the warmth and the wholesomeness of the end made my heart grow three sizes the day I read it. And the love that all these idiots have for each other is just so damn palpable in this story, it damn near made me cry.

Irreplaceable

Author: Orphan Account :(

Word Count: 4,952

Summary: There are obvious downsides to being the only member of the Avengers who is not a super soldier, a god, or a super assassin, and does not Hulk out when aggravated. The most obvious one is that when villains want bait, they've got a go-to guy. Tony already knew Mondays sucked. He did not need his opinion reinforced this way.

Why You Should Read It:

It’s such a bummer I can’t plunder this author’s other works because I love this one so much!

Tony gets kidnapped and says a lot of self-deprecating things that, unbeknownst to him, are projected on a live feed to the Avengers. They rescue him and have some opinions about how easily he could be replaced. This story’s got Tony hiding from feelings like an idiot, Steve manually carrying Tony somewhere the Avengers can say nice things about him, and a lot of feels.

That’s it for today! Tune in tomorrow for some AU recs!

[rjhpandapaws]

What We Grow from Ashes

Ch 1: First Small Steps

Tw: Alcoholism

Hank understood that things would change immediately after the revolution. Red tape issues like this usually took years. He had still expected some kind of change from Connor though. Clothes, hair, anything; but he was exactly the same. He kept his stiff posture and habit of bending every which way to do what was asked of him even when it was clear that he didn’t want to. Hank could understand. Everything he had known had been changed and clinging to his old routines was the only thing that was comfortable. He was going through the same thing with his drink. Whiskey was familiar and the withdrawal that came with being sober for too long was painful. Hank still wished that he would get rid of that fucking jacket. Even before the revolution one of the albeit many things he had disliked about androids wall all of the markings. The goal seemed like it had been to make them as human as possible. Then they had turned around and labelled them as machines with bright lights and what they were quite literally spelled out over their back. Yet, after everything, Connor had still kept the jacket. Hank couldn’t understand why for the life of him.

Connor had been working near constantly as well. Hank hadn’t seen him take a day off. It was that constant working that Gave Hank an idea. He could invite Connor over on a weekend to visit Sumo. He asked about the fur ball often enough. It was a small change that probably wouldn’t effect his schedule too much. He found it safe to assume Connor didn’t work on the weekends. “Hey Con?” He started while they were trying to tackle the ever growing pile of paperwork that built up between cases, “Do you have any plans this weekend?” Connor looked up at him and his LED cycled yellow for a couple of turns, “No, why?” “Would you like to come visit Sumo? He misses you.” Hank replied. Connor tilted his head and his LED cycled again as he thought about it, “That sounds nice actually.” “Cool.” He said with a nod, “I’ll pick up some stuff Friday after work and you’re can come  over whenever you’re ready.” “Alright.” Connor said as he got back to work and that seemed to mark the end of their conversation.

The week went by quietly which was a pleasant change of pace. The rougher days made him want to drink more than usual. The itch was always there, but the stressful days made it harder to resist. On the days they dealt with kids alive or otherwise Hank always had a glass of whiskey. The memories of Cole always disarmed him completely and the itch won out. As promised, when they got out on Friday Hank went to get supplies for the weekend. Connor seemed to enjoy sampling flavored shampoos so Hank grabbed a couple of those. One labeled as Tropical Breeze and another with a name he couldn’t pronounce. He found a brand of carbonated thirium packaged in old fashioned glass soda bottles and Hank thought Connor might like it. He picked up a six pack of light beers for himself. The justification he used was that a good host wouldn’t let their guest drink alone, and having hard liquor would have been inappropriate. He knew better though. He could have bought soda just as easily; he bought alcohol because he was an alcoholic. He was in recovery, but an alcoholic all the same. There were some days he was going to be weak.

He spent most of Saturday morning doing the cleaning he had missed during the week so his house wouldn’t be as much of a disaster. He wouldn’t be passed out this time either which was an added bonus. Connor’s scans would probably find things he had missed, but Hank felt better with his house at least being visually clean. It was around ten in the morning when he heard the doorbell buzz that was distinct to Connor. Sumo let out a howl to accompany it. Hank rolled his eyes at the dog before he moved to answer the door. There was Connor, in the same clothes as usual. Down to that fucking jacket. Hank kept the comment that crept to the tip of his tongue to himself and settled on a greeting instead as he stepped out of the way so Connor could come inside, “Hey kid.” “Hello Lieutenant.” He replied as he stepped out of his shoes. Connor held his hand out for Sumo as the big dog came over to investigate him again, “Hello Sumo.” “Call me Hank please Connor, we’re off the clock.” He remarked as he closed the front door. “There’s no reason to be so formal when it’s just us.” “Right, Hank.” Came the distracted reply.

Hank turned to find Connor seated on the floor with both of his hand buried in Sumo’s fur. The over sized fur ball in mention looked like this was the best day of his life and had pressed as much of himself against Connor as he physically could. Had the kid been anything other than an android he would have been flattened under the furry mass. The sight made Hank smile. He let them be and made his way to the kitchen to put away what he had been using to clean. His house was cleaner than he had ever remembered it being; which probably said a few things about him that weren’t all that great. “You got a lot done.” Connor’s voice came from immediately behind him and Hank nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus kid, I oughta put a fuckin bell on you.” Hank said dryly once he had gotten his heartbeat back under control, “But yeah, thanks.” Connor gave that odd smile of his, “You seem to be doing a lot better as well.” “Uh, yeah,” Hank cleared his throat. Of course Connor would have noticed being an investigator and all that, “I’ve been trying to cut back on my drinking.”

The conversation died after that and Hank moved to go get the shampoo bottles. The quiet was awkward and he didn’t know what else to do. When he came back Connor looked like he was deep in thought and his LED was rolling on a solid steady yellow. Hank didn’t want to interrupt so he set the bottles on the table and waited for Connor to find the words for his thoughts. “Hank?” He started with hesitation hitching his words, “What are you supposed to do when you want to change but don’t know where to start?” Right out with the hard questions then. He sighed, “That mostly depends on the change.” Hank took a moment to think, he needed to be careful with the words he chose. Eventually he decided that an example might be better. “Like getting to the point that I wanted to cut back on my drinking took getting bitch slapped by an asshole who decided to break into my apartment through the window.” That got a laugh out of Connor and Hank kept going, “But picking where to start was difficult. There are a lot of resources ranging from AA to substance abuse counseling. There have also been people who have decided to go it on their own and have done pretty well. I decided to try that out as well because I can always get help later. It just takes weighing your options against what you are capable of doing.” Connor gave a slow nod but his LED was still solidly on yellow, “So if you wanted to step out from under what other people expect you to be, what would you do?”

So that was the thing bothering him. Finding a place to start, he already knew what he wanted. Had he been talking to anyone else Hank would have suggested winging it. That wasn’t how Connor worked, he needed something structured, a plan of attack. Hank had only ever had to redefine who he was, he’d been born with agency and autonomy. He hadn’t had to build his sense of self up from scratch, but he would still try and help as best he could. “I would start small.” He suggested vaguely, “Change something that I have absolute control over. Make it clear that I don’t want to be associated with what it used to be, if at all.” Connor looked down at his arms, his jacket sleeves if Hank had to guess and there was a flash of red in his otherwise steady yellow LED. “I have to think about this.” He said mostly to himself, then to Hank, “Is it alright if I come over again next weekend too?” “Of course.” Hank agreed, “We’re friends. If you ever need me, I’m just a call away.” Connor gave another absent nod, “I think I am going to leave.” “Alright, be safe kid.” He replied as Connor made his way to the door.  He didn’t reply, but he did stop to give Sumo another round of petting before he left. Hank turned back to the shampoo bottles and sighed. They could wait till next time he supposed. He picked them up to put them away.

He was proud of Connor. This was a big thing and he could understand why he was so worried. Hank would be there with him though so he wouldn’t have to go through this alone. They could take their first small steps together.

[thanatophobia-thoughts]

Let’s talk about Hellbound.

It’s another Korean Horror on Netflix that was first brought to my attention by my martial arts instructor – that’s actually a funny story.

We were talking about Korean Horrors while I was in my Squid Game 240 outfit.

“Have you watched Squid Game?”

“…yes.”

“Do you see what she’s wearing?”-My friend in the class

It took him a moment, but then he realized I’d been through the entire class dressed in a Squid Game tracksuit (I don’t yet have a martial arts outfit or a belt, as I was doing a monthly trial).

His point was to say, there were similarities in style in the videography between the two. That’s not where the similarities end, of course. They both have an ending that is absolutely frustrating, but that’s not why I want to talk about it.

The story of Hellbound is that there are supernatural creatures that rise up and take people to Hell. These people are given a decree, sometimes years out, sometimes seconds out, before three black, smokey hulks appear and torture them to death.

It is assumed that they sinned. A religion rises up on this assumption, the “New Truth” which is an offshoot of Christianity. However, it does not have Original Sin as a part of its tenants.

An infant is given the decree.

This shakes the foundation of the New Truth, and naturally has the potential to cause an existential crisis for all the followers, so they attempt to cover it up, just as they covered up their leader receiving the decree. The New Truth is aware that innocents can be condemned, but believe it is better for people to understand otherwise.

They believe it is better for this to have meaning, rather than none.

The way people attribute natural disasters to have meaning, rather than none.

Yet, there is another line of thought – those who are willing to think of it as accidents, with no meaning. One of them is a man who’s daughter received the decree while she was a child. She was given 10 seconds, and then she was killed.

For him, it was better to spend life thinking it was a terrible accident that could happen to anyone, at any time, for no reason, rather than to try and think of what terrible sin his daughter could have created, and to be ashamed of her. He found more peace in that.

 I think this touches on a core part of humanity, and two of the major strains of philosophical thought that we see in the world: Everything (or most things) having Reason, or Nothing having Reason.

There are those in the world who fear that, if there was no reason for anything, and if people believed there was no reason, then everything would fall into anarchy. It is this concern which motivates many of those in the New Truth to, well, hide the truth. This is a true belief in the world, and the cause of many existential crises: “Does my life have purpose? Is there a meaning to life? Is existence an accident? A coincidence? Does my life or the life of others matter?”

One can settle for a purpose based in their life, but many want something outside to validate them, like a divine being, or for some, aliens. They need something outside of their lifespan, outside of their life, to give them meaning. And then it’s okay. They’ll follow the rules set by this Other, and live for them.

So if something ever contradicts that Other…problems arise.

That’s where Hellbound ends, on the contradiction – and more. It ends with the decreed baby becoming known to the world. It also ends with the decreed baby living due to a sacrifice by the parents – showing as well that the fiends don’t always kill the correct people. Two problems.

It then ends with someone condemned to Hell returning, which is what frustrates me so much but ANYWAYS.

It ends with the question: Is it better to have Meaning even if it is a lie, or is it better to have Truth, even if it takes away meaning?

I like to think that the truth would be better, but I do worry that for some people, it would be like opening a gate, and freeing them to do terrible things because there’s no divine retribution awaiting them. I fear the people who fear hell, and have that alone to keep them in line.

The show doesn’t provide an answer with how it ends right on that moment. Season 2 may provide an answer, but season 1 certainly shows how living a life with meaning is…and it involves a lot of violence to keep people in line, a lot of shame, guilt, and anguish.

So if you’re looking for a critical look at religion in general, and can stand the amount of gore and violence – and it’s a lot. Like, I’m okay with gore and violence, and I felt it was excessive and needless at times – Hellbound may be worth a watch.

Then again, its philosophical question of “is a life with meaning better than a life without meaning” has been asked for decades, and you can likely find plenty of other shows and films that address it, too.

It’s just rare to see one that posits that life without meaning – life with accidents – is preferable. It doesn’t even suggest making meaning, it suggests being okay without meaning. Eventually. Obviously not right away.