#arch nemesis unlocked

[chaosbeautiful]

i despise you so much you spoiled the entire killing eve ending for me . hope you explode soon

I hope the same dude

[koishua]

jaehyun and his frankly debilitating crush on you!

★ one. jaehyun definitely is taken aback when the juice he'd placed lovingly on your study desk appears in the hands of your friend instead of yours. to make matters even worse, you're sipping through the straw of a strawberry flavoured milk his arch nemesis always carries around! if only he'd known how the milk was a gift to your friend who's allergic to strawberries. being the kind soul you are, you offer to switch drinks.

★ two. shoulder to shoulder, you're solving a thousand piece puzzle with an anxious jaehyun at his house, unknowingly dizzying him with how comfortable you have always been around him. he can't seem to come to a conclusion of whether he loves it or fears for his poor heart's health.

★ three. oh dear, jaehyun thinks when you pull up by his side with a rather large trolly barely under control, a wide grin gracing your face, which he'd be happy to keep his eyes on for the rest of his life. i am in deep, dangerous waters. he places a discreet hand over his chest, willing himself to calm down.

★ four. the spontaneous bus ride you'd taken to a random little village to spend the night at with your group of friends has neared its end, unlike myung jaehyun's very real and awfully large feelings for you. the selfie he'd taken of himself with your head leaning on his shoulder peeking out from the bottom corner is now his phone's background picture, not that anybody would notice it but him once he unlocks his phone. he wishes to keep you his little secret until time ceases to move forward.

★ five. what if i suddenly die? jaehyun is concerned, clearly about himself with the thought flashing in his mind like a warning signal after receiving a good night message from you. your contact sitting there on his lockscreen as light— a fitting description for the way you came into his life.

! © 𝗞𝗢𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗔 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰, 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗗.

[banjjjangg]

HELLOO i saw that you were taking requests and i was wondering if you could maybe do an enemies to lovers fic with kazuha or wanderer? fluff ofcourse

thankyou and i hope you have a nice day hehehe

Supposed to Hate

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader

— Info: Oneshot + smau, modern au, highschool au, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, forced proximity(?), banter, fluff, crack.

— Sypnosis: It's tough having to constantly fight for the top place with someone as annoying as Scaramouche, your arch nemesis. But bad luck struck the both of you and you're suddenly partnered with him for a project.

Now Playing: Not Another Song About Love by Hollywood Ending. (I had a gacha phase)

Notes: timestamps don't matter, swearing

A/n: first request!! I hope this is what you wanted and have a nice day too anon (^o^)! (p.s. I'm sorry this took so long 😭)

To say that you're just rivals would be an understatement.

You and Scaramouche have always been on eachother's throats since freshman year. Why, you ask? Well you're always neck and neck when it comes to so many things, like grades, debate competitions, leader roles, higher position in the student council, and even popularity amongst students and teachers.

Your feud started when he openly insulted you. You see, competing for the top was one thing, insulting someone that you don't even know that much was another. The moment he started saying stuff like "who? Y/n? Tsk, that girl is only good at academics. In anything outside that, she's nothing." you knew you'll forever hate his guts. I mean, who is he to know what you're good at or not good at? He's barely even your acquaintance! You were just eachother schoolmates yet he has the nerve to say those thing to you? How revolting! You thought.

Oh but isn't this just a silly little competition? Well, not for the two of you. It has come to the point that you'd just openly curse and send middle fingers to eachother (without the teachers noticing of course).

.

This is why you were horrified to hear your teacher say that your partner for a huge project accumulating 20% of your grade would be him. You turned around and glanced at his table in the corner of the room and you can tell that he didn't like what he just heard either.

"But wouldn't pairing the two smartest people in class be unfair?" your seatmate whispered to you. Atleast you and Scaramouche weren't the only ones unhappy with this pairing. But did anyone object the teacher? Of course not. Unfortunately, your science teacher was very strict, and saying just one word wrong would be a one-way ticket to detention.

The class ended and now you were forced to accept the reality that you're supposed to work with Scaramouche for 20% of your grade. You notice him approach you with a small ripped up paper in his hand.

"For the girl who got 79 on math" he said, smirking, while reaching the paper in front of you.

"It's because my calculator broke, nerd." you spat back as you harshly grab the paper in his hand. You immediately went on your way out of the classroom.

What was on the paper? His number.

.

.

Day one.

You made your way to the door as soon as you hear your doorbell ring. You swiftly unlocked and opened it to see Scaramouche standing there with his backpack in hand. Before you could say anything to him, he walked past you and went inside your apartment. He placed his backpack on the couch as he sat on it himself.

"Rude." you whispered, likely to yourself.

"I heard that." he said while glaring at you.

"Good." you added, rolling your eyes as you sat on the small couch right infront of the bigger couch that he's sitting in.

The first day of working on the project was a mess. There were a lot of disagreements and arguments that happened but in the end, the two of you finally got to agree on something to work on involving the project.

.

Day two.

Thankfully, day two of working on the project was a lot more 'calmer' than day one. Yes, there were still disagreements but there were also agreements or at least more than the first day. For the sake of the project the both of you learned to somehow tolerate eachother.

.

Day three.

Once you heard your doorbell ring, you immediately went to unlock and open the door. It was Scaramouche of course, the two of you were still working on a project after all. But something seemed off about him, you can't pinpoint it, maybe it's because of his skin that's paler than usual? Or his expression that seemed tired or exhausted? You decide to shrug it off, it was none of your business.

There was still no greeting and he just went straight into your apartment to the couch where he usually sat on. You didn't comment anything because by now you were used to it.

You sat on the smaller couch right infront of the one he's sitting on. You were grabbing some materials on your backpack when suddenly—

*Cough* *cough* *cough*

You looked up from what you were doing and stared at him. He was covering his mouth with his hands, so this was what felt off.

"What?" he was glaring at you like you did something weird.

"Are you sick?"

"Is it not normal to cough every now and then?"

"It's not just that... You look..pale"

"It's none of your business" His response obviously annoyed you as you roll your eyes and continued what you were doing. He was right, it is none of your business.

But the thing is while you were working on the project he would cough, a lot, and you were getting annoyed and even concerned at what was happening to him. Once you've decided that enough is enough, you stood up and made your way to the cabinet where you keep various over the counter medicine incase you needed them. You grabbed the ones for cough and made your way back to the living room.

You reached your hand with the medicine for him to grab. He looked at it then looked at you with a 'what the fuck is this?' type of look.

"Take it, I'm being nice here." you said, insisting that he grab the medicine in your hands.

"Stop that." he said as he looks at you with suspicion.

"Stop what?"

"Being nice to me."

"Am I not allowed to be a decent human being now?"

"You're supposed to hate me." you scoff at what he just said.

You grabbed his hand and placed the medicine on top of his palm. "Literally just take the medicine." you insisted once again before going back to sit on the couch you were sitting on.

The day continued as it normally would, his coughs thankfully lessened but his annoying antics also lessened, you wouldn't complain though.

.

Day four.

This day is a bit different, because Scaramouche has been oddly nice to you. No, I don't mean that he suddenly turned overly kind, I meant the small things that he normally wouldn't do like instead of telling you to "do it yourself" whenever you ask him to pass you something or do something for you, he actually does it now. You've also noticed that he seemed less annoyed at you or at least lesser than usual.

Overall, it made him less annoying so it made things easier for the both of you. You've also taken it upon yourself to not be as annoyed at him as you usually would. All this lead to the two of you actually having a casual conversation intead of the usual "I'm only talking to you because of this stupid project" type of interactions. It was so odd and fascinating to the extent that at some point the two of you would make genuine jokes instead of sarcastic remarks. But of course it all ended with the "dang I'm supposed to hate you" realization.

But hey, maybe Scaramouche isn't that bad after all.

.

Day five.

The day of the presentation, the two you were sitting on your usual seats in class while waiting for the teacher, meanwhile, all your other classmates were double checking their projects. You heard your phones notification so you grabbed it from your pocket, it was a message from scaramouche, you turned around and glanced at him just to him on his phone while typing something.

.

Navigation

[thebubblesareevil]

A Deal is a Deal…

I haven’t really posted any danny/kaldur in a bit so here you go

Danny was having a really long, really stupid day.

First he was late for his exam because he woke up to kitty and johnny fighting in his apartment. By the time he got that sorted out he had to rush to campus.

Then, by some miracle, the proctor let him in despite being late only to realize he was in the wrong exam halfway through. (He decided to finish the test and turn it in rather than admit his mistake.)

Then he finally managed to stop and get a truly unholy cup of coffee that he topped off with his last bit of ecto shot only for someone to run into him, spilling his coffee.

Which really didn’t make the blind date Sam set him up with anywhere near bearable. She was nice, don’t get him wrong, however Sam has two types of friends outside of Tucker and him. He was pretty sure he would have preferred hearing about the deforestation of the Amazon than have the heavily pierced girl get wayyy too excited when she realized he was from Amity Park. After he finally escaped with the excuse of feeding his dog Sam decided to call to find out how the date went.

“She did the thing Sam.” He stated bluntly as he struggled to unlock his door.

“And which thing would that be Danny? The one where she’s interested in your personality or the thing where you might need a restraining order?” He groaned, thumping his head on the door before checking the hall for neighbors. With the coast clear he phased through, once more leaving his arch nemesis to fight another day.

“The second one, or at least that definitely seemed where it was heading. She kept asking about all my favorite cemeteries back home.” He threw his keys on the counter, dropping his bag to the floor.

“Well did you tell her about the one near the old clocktower? I’m sure she loved that.”

“Sam, she wasn’t asking about nightly walks and talking to ghosts. She made some not so subtle hints about what she liked to do there.” He could hear Sam wince through the phone.

“Eww, sorry Danny. She really seemed like someone you would click with.” He sighed as he looked through the bare cabinets.

“Not your fault, to be fair things were going great till that point. Plus most people don’t see half as much as I do in graveyards. It could have been worse.” He grinned.

“Oh yeah, what are you thinking?”

“Do you remember that guy from the protest you set me up with awhile back?”

“You mean Orion? What about him? You said he tried to gas light you.” Sam almost sounded offended on behalf of her semi-cannibalistic friend.

“Oh he did more than that. He followed me home.”

“No!”

“Yep, apparently I was being stingy and he thought I owed him so he tried to steal my bike.” He laughed.

“Ugh, don’t worry I’ll be sure to pass the word on to his new partner Marcy. I guarantee he’ll regret it.” He shrugged as he ate a piece of plain bread.

“It’s whatever, at least he didn’t try to kill me.” Sam sighed.

“It was one time!”

“Oh really?” He said as he munched. “If I remember correctly it happened twice.” He could hear the sound of Sam smacking her forehead.

“The first time doesn’t count, that was an accident! Besides Valerie tried way more than I did.” She huffed.

“Yeah, I know.” He yawned, heading over to the bathroom, discarding his socks and shoes along the way. “Some how neither of you are even my worst exes to date.” Sam snorted.

“No I think that title belongs to that crazy Viking that was convinced you were going to start Ragnarok.” Danny felt a small tug at his core as he brushed his teeth.

“What can I say? She was charismatic!” He claimed after spitting into the sink.

“Yeah well Miss. Charismatic nearly talked you into a war with her brother just because he flirted with you.” The tug on his core got stronger. “Personally I would have gone with the brother.” Danny nodded as he nearly tripped walking to his bed.

“I mean, that was never in question. Regardless, I’m swearing off Vikings for the next century.” Danny began struggling to take his shirt off without setting down the phone. The tug on his core was stronger than ever, try as he might to ignore it.

“You really suck at this dating thing, I killed you twice and somehow I’m still not in your top ten-” Danny struggled to escape his stupid shirt as his core PULLED, sending him tumbling to the ground. With a groan Danny finally gave in and just pulled the stupid shirt through his body only to come face to face to someone that was distinctly NOT his bed.

He looked around,coming face to face to someone he was actively avoiding.

“Ello Phantom? How’s death going for ye.”

John Constantine, accompanied by what appeared to be some of the newer members of the Justice League.

Danny decided the best option for this would be to do his best impression of a confused, semi-hungover college student.

“Look man, I don’t know who you are, or what you want but do you have some coffee or something? I’m dying over here.”

“Yet not foolin anyone mate. Need a favor from you. Or rather your better half of you don’t mind.” John replied vaguely as he rubbed his hands together before blowing some kind of powder all over Danny.

Danny stood there flabbergasted, as a rain of dust? Covered him head to toe. He stood there for a minute before his face started to twitch as John began to chant a spell. Danny took a deep breath and-

“AACCHHOOO” John jumped back as the sneeze disrupted the dust.

“What the hell man?” He scolds as he rubbed his nose. John grunted.

“Stubborn little shit huh? Too bad we need the Phantom and he’s coming out one way or another.” Once more he began to chant, Danny however chose to ignore this fact as he took in the faces surrounding the circle. They were clearly some of the younger heroes, even a few apprentices by the looks of it. But Danny really didn’t have time for this, he had another exam tomorrow.

“Look man, I’m not sure what you’ve been smokin or how I got here but unless you’re gonna help me study for my engineering exam, then I gotta go.”

“Please wait.” Danny spun around to face the hero standing behind him, stopping him before he even started to leave. The handsome hero stood tall, clearly he was the leader of this group, which begged the question of-

“Why? What you guys possibly want from me?”

“Allow me to explain. I am Kaldur’ahm, though I am also known as Aquaman. We are seeking the help of a spirit of hope and protection that goes by the name of Phantom. We need his help.” Danny gave the gilled hero a considering look.

“With what?” Kaldur’ahm somehow managed to stand up even straighter.

“A powerful magician by the name of Zatanna was pulled into the Infinite Realms. We need to help of Phantom so we can venture into the realms to retrieve her.” He replied with a barely noticeable sense of urgency. Danny raised a brow.

“You want to go to another dimension? With help from a ghost named Phantom? And you want my help to what? Summon him?” John scoffed, completely ignoring the glare Aquaman sent his way.

“Don’t go playin dumb mate. How exactly do you think you got here.” He pointed to the floor “ That there is a summoning circle, invoking Phantom by name. Now here’s how I figure it. Either you’ve gone and disguised yourself or you decided to take this poor sod for a joy ride.” He smirked. “So which one is it mate?” Danny glared at the Englishman.

“Whether you’re Phantom or not we need help.” Danny sighed as he looked back at the hero.

“Well what’s in it for me? You dragged me from my apartment and you want my help, give me a reason.” He announced.

“Name your price demon.” Danny rolled his eyes at the annoying sorcerer.

“Not a demon.” He paused, trying to figure out what he could ask for as the little heroes started to get nervous. He was gonna help them one way or another, ideally they would give up on him and send him back to his apartment. It would be easy enough to get a magician out of the realms. Danny took one more look around the circle before grinning.

“How about a date?” He said, looking directly at Kaldur’ahm with a grin. He laughed before he continued “Just Kidd-”

“Deal.” Danny choked on his own spit as his cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. John shouting from the other side of the circle.

“What the bloody hell kind of request was that?!?”

“ I didn’t think he’d say yes!!!!” Danny covered his cheeks as the handsome hero smiled at him.

“A small sacrifice to help a friend, though not a difficult one.” Danny’s face turned a darker shade of red as green started to bleed into his cheeks. ‘Was this guy seriously flirting with him right now?!?’ The hero raised a single smug brow at him, tilting his head just slightly to the side.

“Do we have a deal?” Danny took a deep breath, coughing into his hand.

“Uh, yeah sure, I’ll get your friend back from the realms.” Kaldur’ahm smiled, Danny blushed. “I guess I’ll just… yeah.”

“We shall begin preparations immediately. Once Phantom arrives we should head out immediately, the less time Zatanna spends in the realms the better.” His face closing off as he got serious, Danny couldn’t deny it was cute before he realized what he said.

“Oh, yeah no, you guys aren’t going.” John practically growled causing the hairy green kid to back up.

“Like hell we aren’t! Just because you claim to be a spirit of protection doesn’t mean I trust ye.” Danny turned a steely glare on the sorcerer as he walked towards him. He made it all the way to the edge and the look of confidence he’d been sporting during this whole ordeal dropped from his face as Danny stepped over the edge of the circle.

“I don’t give two shits if you trust me! You aren’t welcome in the Realms John Constantine. Not until you get that piece of patchwork you call a soul sorted out!” He looked around at the rest of the people in the room. “Besides, it’s against the rules to bring the living into the Realms and I’d rather not have to deal with Walker today, thank you very much.” John glared.

“Look here you dead piece of sh-”

“HALF-dead thank you.” He interrupted as he started to float off the ground. “Now buzz off before I change my mind.” John looked as though he intended to reply when Kaldur’ahm stopped him.

“Enough Constantine, we need his help. For Zatanna.” The British asshole grumbled to himself as he scurried off to the side. Danny stepped back on the ground, making his way over to the Atlantean.

“Hey Kaldur’ahm, before I get your friend, you don’t actually have to go on a date with me.” He looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was gonna help you anyway, I just wanted to get under Johnny boy’s skin.” He just looked at Danny with a smile.

“I thank you, however a deal is a deal, it’s too late to back out now.” Danny’s jaw dropped as the Atlantean grinned. “And please, call me Kaldur.” Danny coughed into his hand to try to force himself to talk.

“Okay… well… okay then… um…” he studdered, dying a little more inside. “I’m gonna go get your friend we can…uh… talk about the details after.” Kaldur nodded as Danny reached a hand behind him to open a portal.

“Agreed, and please be careful Phantom.” Danny paused.

“You can, you can call me Danny.” He back with a slight stutter.

“Very well Danny.” He smiled. Danny blushes as he backed up into the portal, tripping over his own two feet as he fell through. Once on the other side he quickly reached out to find the intruder in his domain. She was easy enough to find, he didn’t even bother transforming. She was standing on an unclaimed floating island only a few miles from where he opened the portal.

Armed with the knowledge that she regularly worked with superheroes he thought it would be best to announce his presence before he surprised her.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a magician by the name of Zatanna would you?” The fierce woman turned, her wand posed, ready to send a flurry of spells at a moments notice.

“And if I am?” Danny smiled.

“A friend of yours asked me to come get you.” She looked at him suspiciously.

“And which friend would that be?”

“A cute Atlantian with a killer sense of humor, named Kaldur.” She raised an eyebrow at that.

“I’ve never heard him described as having a sense of humor.” Danny chuckled.

“Yeah, I told him I’d come get you in exchange for a date. He didn’t even hesitate. Like he’d actually wanna go on a date with a ghost!” He replied with a laugh. Zatanna however did not join in and instead looked Danny up and down before looking him dead in the eyes. She grinned.

“Gotta say I can’t exactly blame him. It’s not often he gets asked out by handsome shirtless men.” Danny squinted at her confused before looking down. His eyes went wide as he realized he hadn’t been wearing a shirt the whole time!

[donkeys-waffles]

I stand with the DFO theory simply because AFO needs a big dose of karma.

Like imagine being a 200-year-old supervillain with hundreds of extremely powerful quirks, has a son who is OBSESSED with heroes. Like the child writes pages upon pages of heroes' quirks and develops an obsession with your arch nemesis. And let's say Izuku has AFO, but it was blocked BECAUSE of his heroic ideals. Imagine Izuku not only getting OFA and becoming AFO's enemy as a result, but also unlocking his own AFO. And we already know Izuku matches AFO in analytical abilities, quirk analysis, and their silver tongues. This bitch has never been faced with a true equal in all those 200 years of living, no one who was smart enough and strong enough to rival him fully, until he got stupid and CREATED HIM.

[moistmailman]

Being Mario must really suck sometimes. Bullshit follows you everywhere you go and you can’t get a single break from it. Not even vacations can save him from this, because bullshit follows him there. Imagine going on a tropical vacation with Peach just to get framed, arrested, forced to do community service, before being forced to save Princess Peach again. This is supposed to be a vacation by the way.

Imagine your brother constantly ‘winning’ mansions, which always leads you into getting kidnapped yourself! You can’t even catch a break when you’re not even the main focus!

Even the simplest pleasures of life will be stripped away from you. Princess sends you a letter promising a cake? Hah, jokes on you! Peach was kidnapped again! Beat Bowser hahah! He somehow mastered the art of dimensions and each painting has a whole world inside them now. How? Fuck you, that’s how!

Went to another kingdom’s for a diplomatic meeting with the princess? Nope, Bowser fucks that up. Now he’s a fucking floating castle! At least the princess wasn’t kidnapped this time, I guess!

Imagine you and your brother getting shrunk and essentially vored by your arch nemesis! And he’s not even the villain in this story! He’s actually your ally! You also have this fairy asshole following you around that’s constantly insulting your brother.

At one point you literally had to travel across galaxies to save the princess! You were going to a festival and surprise surprise, Bowser decided to kidnap Peach again but this time he took the woman to space! You unlocked Light Speed before getting a fucking day off!

Mario honestly can’t catch a break.

[duskandstarlight]

A Golden Opportunity: Part Three

Notes: Wow, this took longer than I'd like to upload but here we are and I'm finally happy with Nesta and Cassian's journey since their tumble on the couch in part two. Enjoy :)

Part Three

Everything had, in truth, turned to shit, Cassian thought from where he lay spread eagle on the couch.

In one hand, was an ice pack which he pressed to his throbbing knee. In the other was his arch nemesis - his phone - which, because he was a male with absolutely no control, he unlocked for the hundredth time that morning.

On autopilot, he thumbed open his messages and tapped on Nesta’s name.

There their conversation remained, cold and untouched.

Cassian let out a sigh of frustration that evolved into a growl.

Eight days had passed since Cassian had last heard from Nesta. It had been eight days since he’d kissed her the way he’d been wanting to for a very long time. He could still remember the way her warm body slitted against his on the couch. Remembered the surprised moan that had broken out of her. The way her expression had cracked open, so trusting that his chest had felt tight.

When he’d left her apartment that afternoon, Cassian had thought they were good. 

He’d still thought they were good when they’d exchanged messages later that evening. 

And again, as he had stared and stared at his phone, waiting for the bubble with three dots to indicate that she was typing.

But there had been nothing and Cassian’s question still hung in the ether, unanswered: When can I see you again?

In the subsequent radio silence, Cassian had played their interactions over and over in his mind. Had Cassian been mistaken in thinking that Nesta had been into something she wasn’t actually into? Had he pushed her too far? Had she only really agreed to go on these dates to essentially draw a line under everything? To say they had tried but it wasn’t working, that they weren’t destined to be together in the way that Cassian had been so certain of since the very moment he’d lain eyes on Nesta at that party all those years ago?

But Nesta hadn’t drawn a line. Instead, she’d ghosted him. Left him hanging out to dry whilst she got on with her life.

And despite the millions of questions that barraged him, battering around in his head on repeat, Cassian did what he’d always promised himself when it came to Nesta. He respected her silence.

He did not text her. He did not ring her. He did not turn up at her apartment or at the coffee shops he knew she frequented to write.

Instead, he grew more and more frustrated, until he was nothing but an angry, bitter version of himself. He threw himself into work, he drove his clients harder than he ever had at the gym. And when he couldn’t sleep, he dragged himself out of bed, laced up his running shoes and ran along the dusky river, until all he could hear was the pounding of his feet on the pavement, his breath as it sawed out of him and his knee barking in protest from overuse.

And even then it did nothing to erase his hideous mood.

Blowing out a frustrated sigh, Cassian tossed his phone onto the couch beside him and tugged out the tie he’d used to scrap back his hair. The last thing he wanted to do was drag his sweaty ass into the shower and get himself to Rhys and Feyre’s weekly brunch.

But Nesta would be there. Today was Elain’s birthday and whilst Nesta might skip an ordinary brunch, there was no chance that she’d dare to miss this one. 

And given that Cassian had resisted the very compelling urge to turn up at Nesta’s door uninvited, the only truly neutral turf he hoped wouldn’t send her running for the hills was her pregnant baby sister’s weekly brunch event. 

And how Cassian hoped. 

***

“You’ve been a stranger.” 

The accusation hit Cassian the moment he stepped into the kitchen.

Ignoring Feyre’s narrowed eyes, Cassian strode over to the floating island that separated the main kitchen from the large oak dining table. When he’d relieved himself of the grocery bags he was cradling in his arms, he turned his head to pin Feyre with a look.

“And thank you,” Feyre amended quickly at the sight of his raised eyebrow, “for picking up the last minute supplies.”

Eyebrow still lifted, Cassian pulled a packet out of one of the brown paper bags and held it up to her. Feyre actually flushed, but her chin rose in a way that was so obstinately Nesta that Cassian would have normally chuckled. 

She folded her arms firmly over her chest. “Shoot the pregnancy cravings, not the pregnant woman, Cass.”

If it had been any other day, Cassian would have made a wise crack. In their tight-knit group, he had always been the joker, the one who brought in the sun when it was a little too cloudy. But now his mind was only on Nesta - was she here? was she here? was she here? - so he just leant over to drop a consoling and affectionate kiss to the crown of Feyre’s golden brown head. “I’ll make sure to have a word with the cravings later.”

“That’s it?” Feyre asked, looking frankly baffled at the lack-lustre response. She snatched the aforementioned bag from him - a pickled onion flavoured corn snack - and waggled it in front of his face. “Nesta blank right refused to sit with me when I ate these with her and Elain last week.”

Without knowing it, Feyre had said the magic word.

It was ridiculous, Cassian thought, that his mouth suddenly felt dry and his heart had begun pattering a faster beat at the mere sound of Nesta’s name. 

Turning his attention to the grocery bags so Feyre wouldn’t catch his expression, Cassian began to pull out items at random. If Feyre even had an inkling of what was going on between he and Nesta, he’d be in the firing line and that was the last place he wanted to be - especially considering that he didn’t know what the fuck was actually going on between them. 

So, he feigned casual. Too casual. Stupidly, idiotically casual. “Nesta?”

Immediately, Feyre’s head cocked in suspicion. Cassian didn’t even look at his friend’s wife to witness the movement, he just knew. Heard it in the deadpan of Feyre’s voice. 

“My eldest sister. The writer. The one with the semi-permanent coronet. The sister I know you can’t have forgotten about because you’ve been pining after her since I introduced you three years ago.” Feyre’s words fell into a confiding hush. “Speaking of which, if you’re planning on asking Nesta out today, I wouldn’t bother. She’s in an awful mood and—”

“Who’s in an awful mood?”

Feyre jumped, whirling in a clumsy blur, the food packet clutched to her chest as if it might prevent her heart from battling its way out of her chest.

For in the kitchen doorway stood Nesta, dressed surprisingly casually for a brunch, even with her hair twisted into a braided crown around her head: stretchy black jodhpur leggings and a loose cream knitted jumper that fell to mid-thigh. As always, she looked breathtakingly stunning. But whereas Nesta usually wore an aloof, queenly air like someone wore their favourite jumper, today there was something off. Not only did Nesta give off the aura of someone who was sharp and unyielding, but she also gave the impression that she was slightly out of sync with the rest of the world. Someone who, under no circumstances, would deign to dally with her little sister’s friend.

Just one sweeping assessment of Nesta set the tone for Cassian. And despite the bell clanging at the periphery of his mind, warning him that there was something he hadn’t quite put together, his pride had him automatically weaving the illusion of nonchalance. 

He leant back against the kitchen island and crossed his ankles, the picture of casual rather than someone who’d been losing their mind over the female in front of them for the past eight days. 

And Cassian was thankful that he had mastered the facade. For when those ice blue eyes slid to him, there was no warmth in them. No indication that they were anything but two people who hung out because of her sister.

And in that moment, Cassian fell prey to the same mistake he’d been kicking himself for since Nesta had ghosted him: he lost sight of the years he’d spent patiently waiting until Nesta finally conceded to date him. All he could think about was that she hadn’t contacted him all week and if she was going to look at him like that—not only like he was nothing but with such emptiness—then he was going to spark that fire in her, make her feel something, not just because she needed it but because he was hurt.

The wolfish grin that crept across Cassian’s face was a touch too cold. And he knew he shouldn’t say it, but he couldn’t help but tread where he wouldn’t usually dare. “Your sister was just warning me not to ask you out.”

Nesta walked straight past him towards the kettle in an air of jasmine and vanilla. With her back to him, she flipped open the lid and peered in to check the water level. “And have you decided whether you’re going to heed my dear sister’s advice?”

Drumming his fingers on the marble counter, Cassian pretended to consider. “Not yet, no.”

A resigned sigh escaped Feyre. But she was either rooted to the spot or harbouring a death wish, because she only propped her hip against the kitchen island and rested her hands on her bump rather than taking a quick exit.

Nesta picked up the kettle and carried it stiffly over to the sink to fill it up. Still, she did not look at him. “Maybe you should.”

Cassian was warmed up now. He was playing the game that they had always fallen into so easily. The thorny, needling comments. The baiting. All wrapped up in something both casual and dangerous. It was a game. A hunt. A tussle between predator and prey. 

Cassian made a show of putting a pint of milk in the fridge before he turned back to her. “Is that what you want?”

For a split second, Nesta paused and Cassian thought he’d cracked her to expose her underbelly. But then she simply shut off the water, placed the kettle on its base and flipped the switch.

There was a moment where all they could hear was the crackle and hiss of the kettle. And Cassian wanted to snap it off, to stop the noise and demand answers from her. He wanted her to stop avoiding him and look properly at him.

And if Feyre hadn’t been in the kitchen with them, Cassian might have. But instead he watched Nesta lift the wooden lid off of the tea jar and… frown. 

The strangled sound mingling with the noise from the kettle was the first real sound Cassian had heard from Nesta since she’d stepped into the kitchen. Cassian watched her blank mask fall to the wayside for the real Nesta to flood in, but it gave him no satisfaction. Nesta looked tired and irritable, as if being at the house had taken every ounce of her strength. 

“What I want,” Nesta muttered tightly into her hand, her fingers pinching tight across her brow as if the pressure might detract her from the pain elsewhere, “is a cup of tea.”

“We ran out.” 

Slowly, Nesta turned to face her sister. And as she moved, her expression transitioned into something that was suddenly too much: bereft and fierce. So much so that Cassian could have sworn the air in the room changed, like that pause just before a lightning strike, when your breath catches and your heart thunders in your ears. 

And it was in that exact moment, with Nesta’s guard down and her emotions plain across her face, that a piece of the puzzle slotted back into place for Cassian. 

After all, he'd spent the last three years studying Nesta in a way that nobody else dared.

“I asked Cassian to get some more tea for you.” Feyre was practically tripping over her words now. “English breakfast - your favourite.”

Sensing Feyre’s desire to be saved, Cassian took it upon himself to fish out the last two items in the grocery bag.

He held them out towards Nesta, his palms facing upwards, his eyes glued to her face, watching, waiting…

For a moment, Nesta stood rooted to the spot, her eyes trained on his hands; at the box of Yorkshire tea in one and the specialised tin of chai in the other.

Given Nesta’s reception to him so far, Cassian hadn’t expected theatrical gratitude. If the stars had been aligned in his favour—if this was he and Nesta eight days ago—Cassian would have hoped for some banter or a smile. At the very least, scant acknowledgement that he’d tried to do something nice.

But when Nesta met his eyes, he saw the exact same expression he’d been gifted when he’d presented her with his homemade bottle of chai: lips parted, eyes stunned and slightly wary with disbelief. It was that exact same heart-wrenching look that came from someone who never expected to be thought of.

All of the anger Cassian had held towards Nesta began to flake away. And when she stepped towards him and raised a hand to take the tin of chai from him, it disappeared entirely.

Ice cold fingers brushed against his palm, paused. And in that frozen heartbeat, Cassian had the distinct impression that Nesta wanted to command her body to stop looking at him - to stop touching him - but she couldn’t. Just like he couldn’t.

Memories sprinted through Cassian’s mind, slotting into place like a storyboard, rolling faster and faster until it was just them on the couch, their bodies fitting together like married puzzle pieces as Nesta moaned into his mouth—

Nesta snatched her hand away so quickly Cassian thought she might have whiplash. Elain’s voice rang from somewhere else in the house, the middle Archeron’s voice sweet and lilting as she called for her eldest sister. But it was too late. Cassian had seen it: the colour staining Nesta’s cheeks in what was an undeniable blush.

As she was always prone to do, Nesta fell into her usual dynamic when it came to Elain - she put her sister first.

The tin made a clattered sound as it struck home on the marble counter.

“I’ll go and see what Elain wants.”

For a few seconds, Cassian and Feyre just watched the doorway Nesta had disappeared through.

Then Feyre turned to Cassian. Her eyes, which had been wide with astonishment, narrowed to suspicious slits. “Did something happen between the two of you that I don’t know about?” 

“No.” 

The lie came as naturally as if it was truth. But inside, there was now a flicker of hope within Cassian, a heat as the embers stirred and glowed. The gears were turning in his mind as he ran over everything he’d witnessed since Nesta had entered the kitchen. The stiff gait, her off kilter presence that was out of step with her usual detachment from everything and everyone. Her blush. 

Could Cassian dare to hope that Nesta’s blush was a sign that she hadn’t cut him off completely? Because Cassian knew Nesta better than anyone. She was usually a master of control and if she was done with someone? That was it. She cut them off as swiftly as the screeching slice of a guillotine. But that blush was evidence that something had seeped through the cracks of that icy fortress of hers, like ink blotting and fissuring on paper. 

It meant that Nesta might not have closed the door on them and thrown away the key. It meant that Cassian might have a fighting chance. That not all was lost. He just had to gather all of the pieces and stitch them back together so he could nudge the door ajar. And he’d already grasped one of them, knew what to do next, his in-road. His plan of action.

It might not be over. It might not be over.

Ignoring Feyre’s narrowed eyes, Cassian grabbed the tin of chai and sauntered over to the steaming kettle. 

And, suddenly brimming with the sort of hopeful elation that wanted to spill over and flood the room, Cassian began to put his plan into place: he started to make tea.

***

When Cassian entered the snug holding a tea tray ten minutes later, he found Nesta curled up on the sofa opposite Elain. The snug - a small, cosy room located to the west of the house - barely had room for furniture besides a sofa, an armchair and a low lying coffee table. Today, logs crackled and glowed in the good-sized hearth that ran along one wall, chasing away the winter freeze that frosted the window panes and hung in the air.

Cassian knew the snug was Nesta’s favourite room in her sister’s house and it wasn’t just because it was warm. Floor-to-ceiling shelves were built into every available wall. Painted a deep midnight blue, they harboured different coloured spines on every inch of them. This was a room designed purely for the intention of curling up by the fire with a cup of tea and a favourite book. It was, essentially, Nesta’s spirit place. 

The female in question didn’t turn when Cassian entered, nor did she give any indication that she knew he was there, which was impossible given that he all but had to squeeze into the room. But Cassian just thought of that blush in the kitchen, of Nesta’s taken aback expression when he’d held up that box of chai, as he placed the tray down onto the lying coffee table with the show of a waiter serving a restaurant’s most valued customers. 

“Tea for you madame,” he announced to Elain with pomp as he set a mug of tea down on the table. “And for you, witch,” he said, finally turning to Nesta. “Chai and a glass of water.”

Nothing. No flare behind those eyes as Cassian pressed the warm mug of chai into Nesta’s hands, just an expression swept clean. That control was back, iron-clad and determined after that blush. But Cassian was undeterred. He’d broken through once and he could do it again. He knew he could.

So, he did what no other male would dare to do and dropped her a wink. 

There. An almost imperceptible flare of Nesta’s nostrils. Cinders that he’d impossibly fanned back into the smallest of flames.

Cassian’s grin was all teeth.

“Thank you, Cassian.”

Elain’s voice pulled at Cassian’s attention from where she sat in the armchair nearest the fireplace, weak but there all the same. It was nothing to the magnetism of Nesta’s stare, but he made himself tear his gaze from hers. Continued to carry out his plan as he plopped himself down unceremoniously onto the cushions beside Nesta. “You’re welcome sunshine. Consider it your birthday present.”

A smile bloomed over Elain’s face, like the soft glow of morning sunshine. Her eyes twinkled. “How thoughtful, thank you.”

“There’s also a plant in the driveway with your name on it,” Cassian informed her as he stretched an arm across the back of the couch. Nesta stiffened. His fingers were a breath away from the nape of her neck. “Can’t remember the name of it, but the owner at Flourish assured me that it needs partial shade and will flower twice a year if you look after it properly.”

That full smile somehow widened into a beam. “That is so thoughtful of you, Cassian. Isn’t it thoughtful, Nesta?”

It was common for Elain to do this: to try in vain to ease the tension between them. Cassian had always wanted to tell the middle Archeron sister that it was futile. Things would always be taut between he and Nesta. He had tried so many times to make sense of their dynamic, and the only metaphor he could come up with was that they both had the end of a shared rope entangled around their ribcage, connecting them in a way that would always snap taut every time they denied what was between them. Which, Cassian supposed, was more often than he’d like.

Elain was looking pointedly at Nesta now. Cassian got the impression that if they were sat at the dining table, she’d have kicked at her sister’s shins. 

“Very thoughtful,” Nesta replied eventually. She made no effort to mask that she was saying it out of obligation and another silent war was had between the sisters. Unfazed, Cassian took the opportunity to stretch out his legs - a particular feat given the cramped nature of the room - until he was the picture of relaxation. And all the while he thought upon that blush and what he hoped it meant.

“So, what are we talking about, ladies?”

“Period cramps,” Nesta announced shortly, finally turning that dead gaze back to his. “How have your ovaries been treating you lately?” 

Elain bit her lip, whether it was to hold back a smile or a grimace Cassian couldn’t tell because now he had Nesta’s attention he wasn’t for one second going to let it drop.

“Oh, you know me, sweetheart,” Cassian countered easily with a shit-eating grin that even he wanted to slap off his face, “no cycle for me.” Overcome with a sudden foolishness, he leant over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Nesta’s ear. He waited for her to smack his hand away but instead she simply stared at him. An alarm bell started to sound in his head, warning him to stop, to not continue with his train of thought, but it was too late. The words were rolling out of him, carried away like a gust of wind tunnelling through a canyon. “Just a sizeable—”

“Cassian.” A smooth, chilled voice came to his rescue. As always, Azriel’s entrance was as discreet as ever, as if he’d simply stepped out of shadow and had been there all along. His interruption was certainly too well timed to be a coincidence. “Rhys wants you to carve the joint.”

“I’ll be back,” Cassian vowed, but as he stood he reached into his jacket pocket and tossed a pack of paracetamol onto the cushions beside Nesta. It was the second step in his plan, the cup of chai being the first. “Thought you might need these for the cramps, sweetheart.”

Nesta’s startled expression followed Cassian all the way to the kitchen, until Azriel turned on him and stopped him with a dark look. “What are you doing?”

Rhys, who was taking a joint of beef out of the oven, asked over his shoulder, “What is he doing?”

“I’m doing nothing,” Cassian replied shortly as he strode over to the kitchen island where Rhys was setting down the meat. “You should let that rest before I carve it up. And where’s the rosemary?”

“The rosemary rub didn’t happen because someone turned up late,” Rhys replied pointedly. “And I didn’t ask for you yet.”

Definitely a well-timed interruption, Cassian thought as Azriel crossed his arms over his chest and levelled Cassian with his signature flat look. “Is riling Nesta the best idea?”

Rhys started scraping juices out the bottom of the pan so he could ladle them back over the joint. “Riling who?”

“Nesta,” Azriel informed Rhys at the same time that Cassian let out a snort at Rhys’s ignorance.

The sound had Rhys shooting Cassian multiple exasperated glances as he tried to keep his focus on basting the joint. “I don’t know why I asked.”

For the first time since they’d entered the kitchen, Azriel’s attention turned to Rhys. Cassian could have sworn the shadows from the kitchen cupboards jumped towards him, drawn to the darkness and mystery that always seemed to surround his brother. Or, Cassian realised, it was because his brother and business partner was about to part with a secret that categorically did. not. belong. to. him. “They went on a date. Multiple dates, actually.”

From the cessation of the spoon scraping the pan, Cassian suspected that Rhys had now fully abandoned his task. Cassian was too busy staring daggers at Azriel to notice. “And they didn’t go well?”

Cassian continued to glare at Azriel. 

Azriel simply stared back like the Cauldron-fucking traitor he was.

In the end, when Cassian conceded that Azriel was not going to rise to Cassian’s open aggression, he clenched his jaw. He tried to look at Rhys, but in the end, he focussed on a spot beyond Rhys’ shoulder—to a smudge of dirt on the kitchen cabinets. “They were perfect.” 

Rhys frowned. “I’m not seeing the problem.” 

“She hasn’t text me since the last one.”

Not since their dirty texts. Not once. 

Rhys let out a huff of air and went back to the joint. “So you thought you’d fire Nesta up and get her to spar verbally with you because you’re feeling dejected?”

Yes. 

Maybe. 

No. 

Cassian didn’t know how to explain the fucked up workings of he and Nesta. Didn’t know how to put into words that he was stoking her fire because he was certain, even though she had ignored him all week, that she still felt something for him, even if she was conflicted about the two of them. So, instead he drummed his fingers against the marble counter in an anxious tempo. “What I’m doing is neither of your concern.”

Rhys let out a dark laugh. “It is if my house is caught in the firing line.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Azriel tilted his head ever so slightly. “What he’s been doing is moping.”

This time, Cassian didn’t stop his hands curling into fists. “What I’ve been doing,” he countered through gritted teeth, “is respecting her silence.”

“And now?”

Cassian levelled his brother with a look. Azriel’s hazel eyes were muddy but unwaveringly steady - just as they had been all week in the face of Cassian’s terrible mood. “It’s been eight days.”

Rhys hummed as he picked up the tray and headed to the oven.

“Would you like to partake further in the discussion brother?” Cassian drawled, leaning an elbow against the marble because he had to do something with his body. “You’ve made a noise that indicate you might.”

Rhys turned his head to look over his shoulder so he could lift an eyebrow. “Nesta’s here. Isn’t that answer enough?”

“Because it was Elain’s birthday this week,” Cassian corrected. “Nesta hates disappointing Elain.”

But Rhys was undeterred. 

“The sisters already met for lunch this week, so you’re wrong on that count. And Nesta regularly misses these brunches throughout the year, but over the past few months she’s been here every Sunday without fail. Feyre commented on it just yesterday. We’ve seen her more in the last three months than we did in the better half of last year when she was on her book deadline.” 

The tray was slid back into the oven. The oven door was shut in the wake of billows of steam as the heat escaped into the kitchen. 

“So,” Rhys continued as he removed the oven gloves, “what you need to ask yourself is; if Nesta truly wanted to avoid you, would she be here now?”

***

Frigid air nipped at Cassian’s skin as he shucked on his leather jacket and stepped out the front door. 

The long sweeping drive was still kissed with frost, the paving stones covered in tiny snowflakes, the flowerbeds dusted with ice. If it was any other day, Cassian might have marvelled at the beauty of it. 

But now, the only thing preoccupying his mind was the female turning down the street, the words Rhys had said to him in the kitchen and the third part of Cassian’s plan: to simply talk to Nesta alone. 

Unsurprisingly, Nesta had slipped out of the brunch without a universal goodbye. But it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Cassian. He had got up so abruptly, the legs of his chair screeching on the hardwood floor, that Cassian knew that he had done exactly the opposite of what Nesta had wanted: he’d drawn attention.

It didn’t stop him. Her name came out in a clouded breath that echoed in the quiet residential street. In fact, Cassian was certain that they would have heard it inside the house. But he didn’t have the foresight to care when Nesta surprised him by halting in her tracks rather than picking up the pace. 

His long legs ate up the distance as he strode towards her, his feet crunching on loose stones and ice. And then he was there, in front of her. Just them - and potentially his family at the window watching the entire fucking spectacle. 

Slowly, Nesta turned to face him, the irritation clear on her face for anyone to see. 

“Didn’t care to say goodbye?”

Against the frosted scenery, Nesta looked like a snow queen. Her skin so pale it appeared bloodless.

Silently, she watched him in a way that bore into him, her hands hanging stiffly at her sides. And there was something in the way that she stared at him that suddenly snatched the speech from Cassian’s vocal chords. 

In the end, it was her that spoke. “I want to go home.”

Simple. Cutting. Truthful.

Nesta’s arms came up to curl around her body and Cassian realised that he was an idiot. That she was in pain. That the least of her worries were him, begging her to talk to him, to tell him what was going on. She’d always had a vicious cycle.

As always, it was that instinct to protect that had him saying, “Let me drive you.”

Nesta’s grip tightened around herself to ward off the weather. When her eyes rested on him, Cassian felt cold. “I can’t give you what you want.”

Something curdled inside of Cassian. His breath was snatched from his lungs and he recovered his composure a fraction too slow. 

It felt like his world had stopped, but he found himself doing what he always did, playing along, pressing those buttons until he could read her. “Care to embellish, sweetheart?”

A frown of irritation flickered between Nesta’s brow. “Was the mention of period cramps not enough?”

At that… Cassian blinked, confused. His brain scrambled to process her train of thought. But he’d been up since four am and he was tired. 

Right now, if they were in the sparring ring, Nesta would have a blade to his throat.

In the end, he asked the only thing one did when they didn’t understand. “What?”

“I’m out of service,” Nesta clipped irritably. “I don’t know how else to explain it to you.”

By now Cassian’s brain had started to work again, the rusty gears grinding and deducing. When he understood, he actually blinked, so thoroughly surprised that he took a step back. “Is that what you think this is?”

A faint colour bled into Nesta’s cheeks, but her chin tilted upwards, as if it was propping her up, giving her courage. When she replied, her eyes flashed as white as a lightning strike against a grey sky. “Isn’t it?”

“No.” The response came immediately and it took everything in Cassian not to pinch his nose in despair. At the last moment, he caught himself. Instead, he imagined thrusting his fist into Tomas’ face. Imagined bone crunching. Imagined the scream.

Unable to stop himself, he stepped closer towards her and Nesta didn’t back away. Didn’t so much as flinch as Cassian stared the love of his life dead in the eye, unflinching, seeing all of her and letting her see all of him—her trauma, the spiral of her thoughts, his sadness and understanding—and said, “Please let me drive you home, Nesta.”

***

The car was freezing. Puffs of air clouded in front of Cassian as he released the brake and put the car in gear. 

He’d left Nesta in the car with the heating on full blast whilst he scraped the ice off the car. She hadn’t protested. Hadn’t said anything and, Cassian realised, as he pulled out onto the residential street, that it didn’t seem like that was going to change anytime soon.

So, they drove in a silence that felt viscerally cold, even as the car warmed and Cassian’s body thawed. And everything Cassian wanted to say, the words that wanted to burst out of him, built up inside of him, the pressure unbearable.

By the time he pulled up outside her apartment, Cassian’s hope felt as if it had been thoroughly suffocated. Snuffed out like a flame. 

Cassian watched Nesta slowly remove her seatbelt before he couldn’t take it any more.

“I’m not here to fuck around and leave.”

Nesta seemed to freeze. Slowly, she released the seatbelt from her hands and turned her head.

Her eyes were vacant, her irises more grey than blue, and for a long moment, Cassian thought she wasn’t going to say anything at all. 

But he just stared back at her, challenging her, and in the end it was that which seemed to probe her into speaking up. 

“I—” Nesta started but then she clamped her lips shut. Cassian didn’t know if it was because she couldn’t bring herself to say what she wanted to say or because she couldn’t. 

And it was then that Cassian knew what he had to do. He knew the next step in the plan, even though it could land them at a dead end. Even though he didn’t like it. 

When he murmured her name, Nesta’s shoulders tightened as if the sound was painful. Her gaze cut away, to stare blankly out of the windshield.

“If I haven’t made it clear over the past three years, here it is straight up,” Cassian said through the lump in his throat. “I like you. A lot. I’ve always liked you, right from the start. I want to spend time with you. I want to see where this goes. We can go as slowly as you like. However you want, Nesta. You tell me and that’s how we’ll do it. But if you want to stop, then that’s where it ends. I promise. I’ll respect your decision.”

His words fell off into silence. Nesta didn’t stop staring ahead. Her fingers worried at a stray thread on her scarf. 

“Do you not want to do this anymore?”

It was the question that had terrified Cassian for over a week, now spoken out loud between them. But Cassian realised that there was no moving forward - if there even was a way forward - if they didn’t address this. If he didn’t give her an out, an opportunity to draw the line.

A choice. 

Nesta’s only response was her teeth digging into her lip. But Cassian knew her thoughts were racing a mile per minute. He just knew - in that uncanny way of his when it came to her - and it’s that which told him what to do next, even though it was painful.

Cassian clenched the steering wheel so tightly he thought it might crumple beneath his grip. Said softly, “Let me know what you decide, Nes.”

It was a dismissal. And Nesta didn’t turn to him and say, I know what I want and it’s you. Or what Cassian desperately hoped to be the truth - because he did still foolishly hope: I like you but I don’t want to get hurt again.

And whilst it was painful, Cassian knew he couldn’t expect more. Knew that things had been going too well for someone who had been hurt so deeply before. 

Nesta got out the car. And Cassian watched the ramrod straight line of her back as she walked up to her apartment. 

The front door opened and closed.

And then Nesta disappeared and Cassian was alone. 

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[captainkurosolaire]

To Restore ~ Semi-Update

Delving deep into waters. First-off I've got to say it feel's good to get back, it's only within these confines, do I really feel alive.

Although I haven't been able to properly hoist and send my flower's to the wonder's the beauties surrounding this platform, or praise before the unbelievable atmosphere's that have continuously cultivated these gardens you irreplaceable gems have done. My admiration and eye's even in silence are always belonging of you. You're my gravitational pull. My life hit a twilight period, apologies for the hiatus, my candle lost a severe amount of its passionate heat. Yet this is where it'll burn and flicker most intensely near the end. With my remaining, I'm attempt to manifest a roar; a battle cry of inspiration & motivation, perhaps set ablaze everything contagiously, causing an absolute wildfire. Future predictably is all but here. Artificial rising up, while there's benefits to it. There's also plentiful are harm. People losing their hope, they're overwhelmed unable to maintain belief nothing they do anymore matters and it's destroying making many fade. Artificial Intelligence for those who create, is our arch-nemesis while many will falter because no-matter-what the path of least resistance will always be appealing. There's purpose in your life, your one-of-kind sublime individualism. In millions of years. No intelligence, artificial, constructed nor any future life-form. Can ever match me. Cause I've found a secret. We believe magic isn't a thing, that was only through fantasy. But we've had it the entire time. In our core resides, infinity. Just nothing that could be felt without nurturing our Emotional Intelligence. Long ago maybe seen as horribly weak, a flaw, even to have... It's become foreign, nothing remotely taught or furthered. I believe, that's where we went wrong and our unexplained missing key-piece we couldn't seem to find. Our emotion's let us push beyond matter itself, we've witnessed weight's being lifted and achieved, diseases overcame, not thought possible all because of mindsets alone. Our world all came from scriptures, lettering's, all the essence of writing and creating being foundation. We've all stories only we can tell, what darkness we underwent, the light that elevates us from fond memories, the pain, it's all something worth capturing in your ways. To share, express, live that spreads more powerfully and may unlock inner-discovery. As it does a chain-reaction happens. More passion is drawn from our depth's to an unidentifiable amount. Energy we cannot see, is given to another through our senses, empowering them in moment's, surely sought after in their most need. Nothing in any life-time, that'll ever be as important as you to value yourself. Putting yourself out there may be the hardest hurdle, the most difficult obstacle known, but I assure you, leaving your footprints, will come to benefit future tourist. I'm on a forever-quest, chasing to be all of me. Despite I may be the greatest self-sabotage and enemy of my own design, at time's prohibit myself from ever having happiness. Downtrodden by thick rain on unforgiving days. Stuck on the past shade, my shortcomings. Being broken, someone hurt by others, and who surely hurt others as a result by never being consistently what I should be. It's difficult to break the sickness, the gymnastics, and hurdles of living it can feel. Remember... there's light. We know it exists and majority it's a matter of finding that right one for us. Where we can rest and know our heavenly peace. I critically was sick and encountered a near death once... but I know, now that even was necessary, for me to really open my eyes and appreciate life. In Ugliness, or Beauty. Weak or Strong. I'll be and take both, all as a single entity. For those who may find anything, I hope. If anything we'll be able to soar and fight alongside another and become friends even if mutual without exchanges, let's continue building clouds together. When my star-collapses, I desire you to encompass the night-skies, with a brilliance, illumination unparalleled. Then perhaps my soul will return and we can repeat, in our almighty infinity.

For now, appreciate you hearties. I'll get back to my lane, until the next invasion, merely!

[worldlydesiretemple]

thinking about joshua and benrey’s friendship. benrey and joshua initially Hate each other because they both think they’re competition. competing for what? gordon’s time, love & affection — joshua sees benrey actively eating into his Dad Time and taking away valuable bed time story hours and playtime minutes and benrey thinks it’s annoying that gordon spends sooooooo much more time with his mini version instead of flirting with him and being gay !!!! they are constantly passing insults at each other. “ why did my dad bring home a stray ugly alien bitch !!!! “ “ i dunno but i’m doing your dad lmfao “

eventually as time passes and gordon stops them from being shitty to each other by proving yes, there is enough gordon for both of them and that he loves them both they stop genuinely despising one another and it just becomes like an inside joke to each other. as joshua grows up he starts treating benrey more like a friend / family member instead of his arch nemesis. he asks him for advice on things like he would his dad, and instead of being straight up malicious / antagonist benry does his best! sure he’s still annoying like if joshua asks if his outfit looks okay he Will reply “ you look just as bitty shitty as you did yesterday bro “ but it’s not because he’s trying to be downright mean it’s because they’re joking !!

they start to conspire with each other. on grocery trips joshua slips in a few jelly beans and hopes gordon doesn’t notice the extra additions — and when he does, benry is right behind him with 5 more bags of beans. and even when those get caught by gordon’s hawk eyes benrey’s sleeves are definitely stuffed with the goods and he taught joshua how to effectively fit as many jelly bean bags in his pockets as possible too. they come up with the most annoying and greatest tricks on how to annoy the FUCK out of gordon when they’re all playing multiplayer games like mario kart or animal crossing or smash brothers or anything like that. soon benry even gets bed time permissions. it’s not just locked to gordon, benrey unlocked the gay dad dlc and is allowed in the room now! he learns how to tuck joshua in, but usually doesn’t and takes to throwing the blanket over his entirety instead because it’s funnier, and when fun & games are over as he prepares to leave joshua’s room joshua will call out to him and ask him to stay and asks so politely if benry can please maybe sing the funny songs at him with the night light bubbles? and it’s so easy for benry to say no, for him to ignore joshua and go cuddle up with gordon but he stays and obliges. pink, blue, yellow, orange all fills the room until joshua’s eyes just can’t stay open any longer and only THEN will benrey go to his shared room. sometimes they fall asleep on the couch while playing games because joshua woke up having a nightmare that the slasher from one of benrey’s horror movies came and ate his horses and benry was already up rummaging for midnight snacks, so why not? gordon has pictures of this on his phone and thinks it’s the cutest shit in the world, but benrey isn’t safe from being lectured on how he can’t just show joshie horror media and expect him to be fine!

benrey isn’t good at being a dad, not by a long shot. he doesn’t have to be, though, because joshua doesn’t expect that of him — and neither does gordon to an extent. benrey is just Benrey and joshua is just Joshua. they’re extremely close and it’s just !!! really cute. he fits into their life like a mismatched puzzle piece that didn’t come with the set but filled the same empty space all the same.

[grumphare]

Imagine if Grizzle came back in Unlock the Magic, and all of a sudden, Share’s just scared of him, and the other bears can’t stop him (expect Grumpy), and Grizzle is Grumpy’s arch-nemesis.

[iconuk01]

Things I didn't know I needed.

The Watermill Theatre, which did the amazing "Lord of the Rings" earlier this year has announced it's next major project for 2024.

"Sherlock Holmes and the Poison Wood", a rock opera!

London 2024. Doggedly pursuing success as a private detective, Sherlock Holmes is faced with a new case; an unexplained death in the infamous environmental protest camp at Oakenwood. Supported by his media-savvy landlady, nutritionist Dr Watson, Sherlock’s keen eye for detail and tireless pursuit of the truth has brought a growing online fandom and an uncomfortable intrusion into his private life.

Delving into the details, Sherlock suspects that arch-nemesis, tech billionaire and international potato magnate Jan Moriarty is at the root of the case, but the game’s afoot and they must move fast to uncover the truth and foil her plans. In a world of cancel culture, deepfakes and digital manipulation, only self-discovery and acceptance can unlock this case.

This is the workshop cast, not necessarily the actual cast, so make the most of Arthur Darvill (Yes, THAT Arthur Darvill) as Holmes singing "Elementary"

[kyndaris]

Filling Plot Holes

Back in the olden days, games were simpler affairs. Instead of realistic high definition graphics, developers relied on pixel art styles to portray the setting and characters. It wasn't the most amazing thing to look at but it was astonishing for their time. Nor were games incredibly complex in terms of gameplay. In those days, it was hard for developers in 3D and have competing objectives for the player to keep in mind.

Instead, many early games were in the vein of point-and-click adventure games. And none were as renowned as The Secret of Monkey Island by Lucasfilm Games.

This was the game which introduced us to beloved character Guybrush Threepwood as he journeyed across the islands of the Caribbean in order to make a name for himself as a pirate. Along the way, he made both friends and enemies, as well as fell in love with Governor Elaine Marley.

Over the years, several sequels came out. Often, Guybrush would do battle with his arch nemesis, LeChuck, before saving the day. And in 2009, it all came to an end with Tales of Monkey Island.

That is, of course, until 2022 where Return to Monkey Island, came roaring onto all available consoles as well as the PC. What made it special, though, was that it was the first Monkey Island game by series creator, Ron Gilbert, since Monkey Island 2: LeChuck's Revenge. So, of course I booted it up after two years of having it sit in my Steam library.

I'm anything if not consistent when it comes to the backlog of games I have waiting to be played!

Return to Monkey Island starts off with Boybrush Threepwood and his friend, Chuckie, playing at an amusement park and re-enacting Guybrush's previous adventures. For a while, they amuse themselves with scurvy dogs and by pretending an elderly couple also at the park are their parents. It isn't long before Boybrush finds his father and prompts Guybrush to recount the tale of when he found the secret of Monkey Island - a sticking point of the first game.

The game then pivots to Guybrush in the past. Wishing to be the first person to discover the secret, Guybrush has travelled back to Melee Island in order to gather a crew and ship. With his usual suave, he approaches the Pirate Leaders - only to discover they are no longer the three men he knew in the first two games. Instead, they've been replaced with a new trio of dark magic users: Madison, Lila and Trent.

These new Pirate Leaders refuse to help. Undeterred, Guybrush finds another way to find a crew and ship to get to Monkey Island before LeChuck. To do so, he disguises himself as a zombie and is hired onto LeChuck's ship as a swabbie.

Yet though Guybrush manages to steal the map to the secret, he is soon discovered to be an impostor when he accidentally removes the magical eyepatch he was wearing to serve as his disguise. Infuriated by the deception, LeChuck duels Guybrush on the bow of the ship. A duel which Guybrush loses and he plummets down into the sea.

Of course, given how close the ship was to Monkey Island and Guybrush's ability to hold his breath for ten eight minutes, he is able to walk the rest of the way to shore. Following the map he stole from LeChuck, Guybrush falls into a trap set by the Pirate Leaders who reveal they had the real map. Unfortunately, the map is magically encrypted and they need LeChuck's catchphrase, his theme song and his favourite food to unlock it. All, of which, fall onto Guybrush's shoulder to obtain.

But obtain them he does - unlocking the map and revealing to all present that the secret of Monkey Island is at the International House of Mojo back on Melee Island.

It isn't long before Guybrush is betrayed and is left at the bottom of a cliff. Elaine, however, comes to his rescue and they escape the island by rebuilding Guybrush's old ship: the Sea Monkey.

Despite all these setbacks, Guybrush is the first to arrive back at Melee Island where he finds the secret locked inside a safe requiring five golden keys to open. He sets out across the Caribbean, visiting Brrr Muda and Terror Island along the way, before returning to the International House of Mojo to unlock the chest.

After opening the safe, Guybrush finds another locked chest inside. Before he can open it though, LeChuck steals the chest and takes it back to Monkey Island, where, in order to open it, a ritual is needed. Guybrush and Elaine follow. After descending down into the depths, following the footsteps of LeChuck, Guybrush emerges into a theme park recreation of Melee Island. After opening the chest, he is gifted with a novelty T-shirt.

Like many of point-and-click adventure games from yesteryear, there is a strong focus on humour. The story is silly and ridiculous, though the writing remains sharp as ever in its witty social commentary. One that stood out to me was Elaine's campaign to end scurvy and how sailors on a plague ship refused to believe in science - preferring instead Saleman Stan's flyer with its half-truths and blatant lies before they would consider getting the necessary Vitamin C from limes to combat the disease.

It was an apt metaphor for COVID.

Perhaps if there is another deadly illness travelling across the globe, we'll need to peddle masks and vaccine as if we're snake oil merchants. It might actually let the dunderheads in the world finally try it. Especially when all the difficult science jargon has been removed!

That aside, I feel like the story could have gone to greater lengths if it so chose. Yet, on the other hand, I can see why Ron Gilbert went the route he did. After hyping up the secret of Money Island, it was easier to pull the rug out from underneath Boybrush, as well as the players, as whatever it truly was would have never lived up to the standards we'd all made up in our heads.

So, in keeping with tradition, and with its unique style of comedy, Return to Monkey Island had to make the 'secret' less than ideal.

Methinks, though, that Guybrush hasn't truly mastered the art of good storytelling and still needs to work on how to end his fanciful tales of adventure. Yes, he joined the Chums and was able to impress the old Pirate Leaders, but he still has far to go if he wants to be a storyteller worth any salt.

From a gameplay perspective, Return to Monkey Island returns to its roots as a point-and-click adventure where solutions aren't always as simple as they seem and logic is oft thrown out the window. Other times, the item Guybrush needs to advance is tucked away in a different part of the world and the player is forced to backtrack because it wasn't evident from the first one would need it.

Return to Monkey Island does furnish players with a hint book, however. One that provides valuable hints should they get stuck.

Of course, if you aren't playing on 'Hard Mode' and you do use the hint book in any capacity, people on the internet will decry you for cheating and not playing the game as intended.

But what a stranger on the internet doesn't know won't hurt them. Nor should one feel obligated to only ever play a game the 'correct' way.

If you want to play the game on casual mode and rely on the hint book if you're unsure how to proceed, my advice is: GO FOR IT! After all, the time you have on the world is limited. Getting stuck on a puzzle in a video game needn't be the be-all and end-all when it comes to one's satisfaction in life.

Overall, I enjoyed my adventure with Return to Monkey Island. After I surprised myself with how long I spent with Banishers: Ghosts of New Eden, it was nice to play a relatively short game without high stakes. Especially when so many video games are keen to take up all of one's time in a never-ending cycle of live service. Similarly, the vibrant art style and fun story provided some much needed levity from the direction of many dour and serious video games.

So, dear readers, if you're looking for something a little old-school and provides a rollicking adventure through the Caribbean island, look no further than Return to Monkey Island!

[castametric]

Dear diary, today I was good. It was snowing horrible blobs of snow this morning and on my way to class I ran into my arch nemesis (the clown). Both of us had forgotten our key cards and were stuck outside the arts building. Instead of waiting with him I walked all the way across campus to the science building in the hopes that one of the doors was unlocked (it wasn’t but one of my professors saw me through the window and let me in). Then, in a true act of goodwill I walked all the way through the science and humanities buildings to the arts building (they’re all connected by tunnels) to let my arch nemesis in. I was tempted to let him sit out there (for constantly bothering me and interrupting my fave classes) but instead I was nice today. Please keep that in mind when you’re deciding to send me to hell for all the other stuff

[apathetic-graffiti]

Feeling Good by Michael Buble has a lot of potential of being a Cronus song.

Like, the first thought I had of it was in one timeline, Cronus turns his life around from being a bitchless loser and becoming something more to canon. He unlocks his full potential and actually defeating his arch nemesis Lord English just like what was foretold in his origins. But there's a catch! He's evil!!! And so he destroys everything that he comes across, why? It could be for the times they had wronged him but honestly, he might as just be doing it for fun. Who cares! He's queer and he's there to fuck shit up. (The Megamind kind of villainous... Imagine how much he would look fucking good in a Dualscar inspired outfit though)

Second one I had (right now) is of her having a relevation that she doesn't need to be in a relationship just so she could feel loved, all she has is herself and that's enough. Which is almost impossible since that's likely going to take her ages to actually see that lawl

I dunno, I didn't draw today and so I have to brain dump intead.

[mrxcreepypastamadness]

For: @toxic-and-the-gang

Mario's Madness V2 muses!

Woodland of Lies

1st Muse (Current):

Beta Luigi

Aliases:

• Luigi

• Sad Luigi (in chromatic folder)

Relatives:

• Mario (compromised brother)

Relationships:

• King Boo (Enemy)

• Pissing Mario (friend)

Occupation:

• Plumber

Age: 25

Place of birth: Mushroom Kingdom

Birthday: October 11

Status:

• Alive (Official Nintendo Canon)

• Deceased (Somewhat debatable)

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 5'9" (175 cm)

Eye Color: White sclera

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Created by:

• Nintendo

Voiced by:

• Charles Martinet

• KINGFOX (chromatic)

Appears in:

• Luigi's Mansion (E3 2001)

• Friday Night Funkin' (As a Mod)

Debut:

• Luigi's Mansion (E3 2001)

About: Beta Luigi is Luigi's appearance in the game over screen for the beta version for the beta version of Luigi's Mansion, where he fails to save Mario and falls into a depressive episode. He is the opponent of the warp zone song "Alone".

Gallery:

Beta Luigi (Sitting)

2nd Muse (New):

Beta Mario

Aliases:

• Alone Mario (Files)

Relatives:

• Luigi (Brother)

Relationships:

• King Boo (Enemy/Captor)

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Eye Color: White

Debut: Luigi's Mansion (E3 2001)

About: Beta Mario is Mario from the E3 2001 Beta Build of Luigi's Mansion. He's been trapped in a painting by King Boo, and since Luigi failed to save him in time, he's doomed to remain imprisoned within said painting for all eternity. He appears in "Alone" as an additional opponent for a brief section.

3rd Muse (New):

L is Real

Aliases:

• Luigi Mario

• Luigi Drowned

Status:

• Undiscovered

• Dead (SM64: Classified)

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Eye Color: Black

Hair Color: Brown

Created by:

• Nintendo (Original Luigi)

• Nintendo Community (Rumor)

Appears in:

• Super Mario 64 (supposedly)

• Friday Night Funkin' (As a Mod)

Debut: Super Mario 64 (Supposedly)

About: L is Real is a character based on a long-standing urban legend surrounding Super Mario 64. The L is Real rumors center mainly around on the fountain in the Castle Courtyard, which many interpreted as "L is Real 2401". This lead many to believe there was a way to unlock Luigi in some fashion. With the rise in popularity of the "Mario 64 is Personalized" rumors, more horrific versions of the L is Real rumor were since created. He is the opponent in the song Thalassophobia and the scrapped song Drowned.

4th Muse (Current):

I HATE YOU Luigi

Aliases:

• Luigi

• Luigi Mario

• IHY Luigi

• Burned Luigi

Relatives:

• Mario (despised brother, accidental murderer)

Relationships:

• Bowser (ally (Creepypasta)

• Martin (friends)

Occupation: Plumber (formerly)

Age: 25

Place of Birth: Mushroom Kingdom

Birthday: October 11

Status:

• Dead (Creepypasta)

• Undead (Mod)

• Alive (Official Nintendo Canon)

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 5'9" (175 cm)

Eye Color Black

Hair Color: Black

Created by:

• Nintendo (Original Luigi)

• Slimebeast (Creepypasta)

• Ersanio (ROM Hack)

Appears in:

• I HATE YOU (Creepypasta)

• I HATE YOU (ROM Hack)

• Friday Night Funkin' (As a Mod)

Debut: I HATE YOU

About: I HATE YOU Luigi is a character created by Slimebeast for the I HATE YOU creepypasta. In the original creepypasta, Luigi develops hatred for Mario and joins Bowser's side in order to kill him. However, Mario ends up killing Luigi by knocking him into lava, turning him into a living corpse. He is the opponent of the songs "Oh God No" and "I Hate You".

Gallery:

I HATE YOU Luigi (Alive) (Oh God No)

5th Muse (New):

I HATE YOU Mario

Aliases:

• Mario

• Mario Mario

• IHY Mario

Relatives:

• Luigi (brother, accidental victim)

Relationships:

• Bowser (arch-nemesis)

• Drowned Mario Clones (Old lives of him; enemies)

• Princess Peach (love interest)

• Yoshi (Best friend)

• Toad (friend)

Occupation: Plumber

Age: 25

Place of birth: Mushroom Kingdom

Birthday: October 11

Status: Alive

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 5'11" (155 cm)

Eye Color: black

Hair Color: Black

Created by:

• Nintendo (Original Mario)

• Slimebeast (Creepypasta)

• Ersanio (ROM Hack)

Appears in:

• I HATE YOU (Creepypasta)

• I HATE YOU (ROM Hack)

• Friday Night Funkin' (As a Mod)

Debut: I HATE YOU

About: I HATE YOU Mario is Mario as he appears in "I HATE YOU". In Mario's Madness, he's the player character of "Oh God No."

6th Muse (Current):

Wario Apparition

Aliases:

• Wario

• Wario Head<br

Relationships:

• Players (victims)

Place of birth:

• Yoshi's Island (Nintendo Canon)

• Super Mario 64 1995/07/29 Build (Creepypasta and E3 Debut)

Status: Active/Alive

Species:

• Apparition

• A.I creation

• Human (Official Nintendo Canon)

Gender: Male

Eye Color:

• White Sclera

• Green (left pose)

Hair Color: Brown

Created by:

• Nintendo (Original Wario/technically)

• Anonymous /v/ user (Creepypasta)

Voiced by:

• Charles Martinet

• KINGFOX (Mod)

Appears in:

• E3 1995

• 4Chan

• Super Mario 64 1995/07/29 Build (supposedly)

• Mario 64 iceberg

• Every Copy of Mario 64 is Personalized

• TAPE ONE

• 12. 20. 95

• Friday Night Funkin' (As a Mod)

Debut:

• E3 1995 (Original)

• 4Chan (Creepypasta)

About: The Wario Apparition is a floating apparition of Wario's head. In initially appeared during Nintendo's "Focused on Fun" segment in E3 1995, preparing the audience for Nintendo's main presentation. Many years later, it was popularized by the Mario 64 horror community due to a Creepypasta based on the theory that every copy of Mario 64 is personalized, and that there exists a cursed beta version of the game from July 29, 1995. Allegedly, the Wario Apparition materialized in Mario 64 out of people's desires to see Wario in the game, and it caused horrific mental trauma upon these who saw it. He is the opponent of the Warp Zone song "Apparition", The now used Forbidden Star in the Legacy section in Freeplay, and the unused song Gaze.

7th Muse (New):

Turmoil

Relationships:

• GB (Friend)

Species: Human/Yoshi Fusion

Gender: Male

Voiced by: RedTV53

About: Turmoil is an EXE created by Scrubbdubb. He used to be Mario until he accidentally ingested a mushroom containing Yoshi's code. He has since turned into a primal, blind beast who feeds upon the inhabitants of the Mushroom Kingdom.

8th Muse (New):

Coronation Day Peach

Aliases:

• Ghost Peach (common given name)

• Coronation Peach

• God of the Forest (herself)

Relationships:

• Mario (Attempted Victim)

Date of death: July 31st, 1992 (implied)

Status: Active/Alive?

Species: Unidentified

Gender: Female?

Eye Color: Black

Hair Color: Blonde

Created by:

• Nintendo (Original Peach)

• Medic

• Torchkas

• underway

Appears in:

• 'the (Super Mario World Coronation Day)

• Friday Night Funkin' (As a mod)

Debut: 'the (Super Mario World Coronation Day)

About: Coronation Day Peach is the main antagonist of the popular rom hack 'the also known as "Coronation Day". One day, Peach wandered into the forest where she either killed herself or was killed by a mysterious entity. She, or an entity of unknown origin, now inhabits the forest. She is the opponent in "Dark Forest".

[embracedthevoid]

📝

📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context.

Oooft, surprisingly it feels like I don't actually have a lot of wips right now, but I'll see if I can find something in the depths of my google docs lol.

“Oh,” Wilhelm pauses the moment his eyes lock with Simon’s. He hovers awkwardly with one foot inside the lift and the other out, like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do. That, or he’s purposely delaying Simon’s rest, which wouldn’t be beyond Wilhelm.

“In or out?” Simon glares, moving to the side to better emphasize his annoyance while also putting more distance between them when Wilhelm moves inside.

Simon watches Wilhelm’s slender finger hover over the buttons, pausing over the already highlighted eight, then he drops his hand. 

Great, same floor as Simon. 

“You look…” Wilhelm begins to say.

Simon sneaks a glance in Wilhelm’s direction, catching him looking the length of his body up and down with an odd sort of expression that makes Simon want to squirm in his clothes.

Wilhelm continues after clearing his throat. “You look the same as always.”

And there it is, a half insult that Wilhelm usually greets Simon with. Never quite rude, but not polite either. Simon would like to say it doesn’t get under his skin and boil his blood, but that would be a complete lie, because everything about Wilhelm Crown annoys the living daylights out of him.

Simon takes a deep breath, looking Wilhelm up and down, ignoring how perfect he looks, still somehow pristine with his jacket slumped over his arm and shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows. If Simon were to do that, he’d look like a slob, but Wilhelm, well it’s as if no matter what he’s wearing the sun shines out his ass and he’s completely aware of it.

“And how do I always look?” Simon bites back, praying up toward the small number above the button panel, counting each time it goes up a floor, wishing it would move faster.

“Uh, you’re just,” Wilhelm hesitates, mouth hanging open the slightest bit, like Simon actually stumped him.

Simon waits for a response, not bothering to save the man from his own idiocy. However, the longer silence hovers in the air between them, the tension in the too small metal box they’re trapped in raises as well. Thankfully, they’re saved when the elevator doors open to the eighth floor. 

Without looking back, Simon starts down the hall, grabbing his key card from his pocket, reading room 823. He’s heading in the right direction then, good. As he watches the numbers rise along the walls and pauses when there’s commotion behind him. Simon takes a deep breath determined not to look back, but he’s forced to when he finds his room and in his peripheral vision he sees Wilhelm stopped at the door right next to his.

“Neighbours again,” Wilhelm chuckles awkwardly, tapping his hotel card against the pad and until a green light signals it’s unlocked. Simon does the same with his own card.

“Wonderful,” Simon rolls his eyes, twisting the handle and pushing inside, barely catching the frown on Wilhelm’s lips that roots a sliver of guilt in his mind. He shakes it away and continues about his night not thinking about the thin wall between him and what he could probably name his arch nemesis. He does more to not think about how the head of the bed is pushed up against that same wall, meaning Wilhelm’s probably is too. It always works out that way.

Ask me about my wips