#this makes ne feel slightly better about big ocean

[littleguy-scuffle]

[breakyeol]

Midnight Train

one shot

┗ pairing : kyungsoo x reader

word count : 7.5k (ohmygod this was supposed to be a drabble)

warnings : language, explicit sex

a/n; I saw a picture of soo on a train and was suddenly inspired. also, don’t go with a stranger to a hotel. not a good idea in real life. be safe kids. I have zero self restraint when it comes to soo, please forgive me.

You don’t know what time it is, and honestly you don’t really care. But it’s late, you can tell that much. Clusters of tiny stars are shining brightly against the inky blackness of the cloudless night sky, the full moon bathing the city in its soft milky glow.

Any other night, perhaps you’d stare up at it in awe, bustling mind eased and taken by its natural beauty. It’s not often you see a night sky like that, so vast and endless and whole, unobscured by clouds or light pollution.

But tonight, it hurts. It hurts to look at something so beautiful.

Because tonight, you lost something beautiful. Or at least, something you once believed was beautiful. Maybe that’s why it hurts so terribly, sitting like heavy stones in your chest, a lingering reminder refusing to let you be. Because something you’d once thought was beautiful turned out to be something so horrifically gnarled and ugly, something so twisted and mangled that you’d managed to fool yourself into believing it was magnificent.

It’s the feeling of betrayal that has salty tears dripping down your cheeks, slipping down over your shuddering lips and clinging to the slope of your chin.

You feel tricked.

You feel lied to.

You feel deeply wronged.

So you stand on that metal platform surrounded by the cool night air, crying silently and so terribly alone, and you refuse to look up at the beautiful starry sky, only staring blankly ahead at the dull metal wall on the opposite side of the rusting tracks.

The platform trembles beneath your sneaker clad feet as the train pulls into the station. A low screech shatters the heavy silence that previously encased you and you blink in mild surprise, abruptly broken from your inner turmoil. Your hand lifts, roughly swiping away any lingering wetness from your face before you’re pressing forward. It takes more concentration than it should have to push through the weakness in your knees, but you manage, stepping carefully over the small gap in the floor and through the door.

A middle aged man dressed in navy blue greets you with a vaguely forced smile, eyes tired and underlined by dark bags. It must’ve been a long day for him as well. Sympathy draws the corners of your lips upward, though you’re certain it looks unstable and awkward on your downcast face.

Moving past him, you take in the state of the train. A soft breathe of relief escapes your lips, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. Empty. Completely empty. As much could be expected at this hour of the night. Most people were already home, tucked safely beneath the comforting warmth of their duvets.

If only…

Swallowing back the thought, you make your way through the rows of seats, not stopping until you reach the very back of the vacant train car. Your exhausted body is more than happy to slump against the plush red fabric, limbs going slack the moment your butt makes contact. It’s pure relief for your sore feet and unsteady legs.

But the relief is short lived.

Only a handful of seconds pass before there’s a familiar tug in your chest, and you’re thrown right back into the abyss of your own memories, regrets, and sorrows. A slow ache consumes your head and you have to close your eyes. Too much is going on in your mind. You wish there was an off button for your thoughts. Better yet, your emotions– your pain. Life would be far more convenient that way.

A muffled voice suddenly crackles over the intercom, announcing the train’s departure from the station. Your eyes flutter open and, by chance, they flick over, only to widen in surprise.

There, in the seat on the opposite side of the aisle, is a man.

For a moment, you’re confused as to how you could’ve missed him. Then you note how he’s hunched over, body curled in on itself, head resting up against the window. The glass has fogged beneath his nose, where a pair of thick rimmed glasses rest low on his bridge. The corner of your lip twitches at the sight of his hands tucked comfortably between his thighs. It’s cool for a summer night, and you find yourself wondering if he’s cold. The answer is a clear yes if the goosebumps decorating his arms are anything to go by. Your fingers subconsciously twitch towards the coat resting across your shoulders, the one thing you’d gone out of your way to grab on your way out.

Would it be too strange for you to offer it to him?

Something aches inside of you though at the sight of his downward arched brows and pouted lips. He looks so terribly alone and so awfully small. You couldn’t just leave him like that. Stranger or otherwise, the thought of doing nothing made your stomach twist unpleasantly.

Silently, you tug at the sleeves of the coat until it falls off your shoulders, pooling behind you uselessly. Sliding carefully to the edge of your seat, you tap your fingers gently against the plastic lining of his. If he hears it, he ignores it. Or, perhaps he’s sleeping. But, with how tightly his jaw is clenched, you doubt that.

“Excuse me?” The words are a whispered breath on your lips. Nonetheless, they were effective in finally drawing his attention. Slowly, his eyes flicker open and drift over to meet yours. For a moment, the ability to speak is stolen from you.

Those eyes— they were big and round and deep. Deeper and darker than the entire ocean, or rather, the night sky. Because within their depths, were stars. Bright, twinkling flecks of soft light. It was like he’d stolen them right out of the night sky.

They were iridescent. And they were beautiful.

So beautiful that it hurt.

It hurt to look at him.

But it was a different kind of hurt. It was the delicious kind that reaches beneath your skin and deep into your very being. That ripples through you in slow, heavy waves, igniting blistering flames in their wake. They pull you in and swallow you whole all at once. Looking away wasn’t an option. Even if you could, you’re not so sure you’d want to.

He raises a confused brow. The motion, however slight, enough to bring you out of your thoughts and back to the real world. Clearing your throat, you stutter back into motion, holding out the coat in suddenly warm palms. His features twist, a light frown pulling at the corners of his full lips as his gaze flicks between your face and the clothing item extended towards him.

Dryness invades your mouth and you force yourself to swallow down the sudden buzz of nerves, tipping your chin forward in feigned confidence.

“You look cold.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then he presses his lips together and you know simply from the look on his face that he’s about to refuse.

“Take it,” you insist with a soft chuckle before he gets the chance to shoot you down, “it seems like you need it more than I do.”

He glances down, briefly taking in the position he’s currently curled in. A soft shade of pink tints his cheeks and he clears his throat, straightening himself out. But it’s only when you nudge it persistently in his direction one last time that he finally accepts it, dipping his head in silent gratitude. You watch in quiet satisfaction as he slips it on, fitting him almost perfectly, albeit a pinch on the larger side.

The corner of your lips tip upward, then you turn away. The clicking and low hum of the train as it bustles along the tracks fills the silence that fell over you. Though it doesn’t last too tremendously long.

“Ah– I think this is yours.”

You almost flinch at the low, smooth voice that breaks through the quiet. Head spinning back around, you meet his large, beautiful eyes. Large, beautiful, red eyes.

Crying. He had been crying. It was obvious now. You could see it in his swollen eyelids, flushed cheeks and reddened nose. You wondered if he was looking back at you and seeing the same telltale signs of heartache in your features.

But you bite your tongue, and drop your gaze to the small, silver band cradled in his palm. A ring. Your ring. The same ring with those damn initials engraved on them. The same ring that carried too many memories.

Memories of cheesy pickup lines and secret glances. Memories of late night talks losing sleep. Memories of clammy hand and shy caresses. Memories of movie dates and hot blushes. Memories of petty arguments paved over by gentle kisses and murmured apologies. Memories of love. Memories of loss. Memories of lies and pain and betrayal. Memories you no longer wanted.

You sigh softly, a bittersweet smile touching your lips.

“Keep it.”

His eyebrows jump, gaze bouncing between the ring and your face. “It… looks important.”

“It was,” you admit softly, interlacing your fingers, “but not anymore.”

The expression that crosses his features catches you off guard. It’s not of confusion or of judgment or disbelief, but of understanding. Understanding. How rare.

“Are you sure?” He asks quietly.

For a moment, you fix your gaze on the small, silver item that not long ago made your heart soar with nothing but pure delight every time you looked at you, but that now roused only painful heartache and unwanted memories. There was no going back to how things were, no chance of recovery for your once steadfast love. You’d been proven wrong one too many times, and refuse to be made a fool of again.

Sometimes, holding on did more damage than letting go.

“I’m sure.”

He stares at you, a conflicted look glinting in his dark eyes. You couldn’t quite read him, couldn’t quite make sense of the swirling emotions in his heavy gaze. But then he moved, fingertips reaching for something on the back of his neck. You tilted your head in confusion, briefly distracted by the endearing way his face twisted into an expression of concentration. Then, you catch a glimpse of something metallic— a necklace. He made quick work of the clasp, the item slipping easily off of his neck and into his awaiting palm.

“Then you…” he let out a soft breath as he extended his hand to you, fingers enclosed around the necklace, “you should take this.”

It was a simple piece of jewelry, a thin silver chain with what appeared to be a small, circular locket with two sets of initials engraved into it. The metal was surprisingly warm and you found yourself toying with the locket, tracing the pair of initials with your index finger.

“Which is yours?” You ask, glancing up at him.

“DKS. Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Doh Kyungsoo.” You repeat softly, testing his name on your tongue. There’s something melodic about the way it flows off your lips, and you like the way it tastes. Doh Kyungsoo. It was a name befitting his face.

“Pretty.”

It’s the lateness of the night that prevents your usual filter from functioning properly, the word escaping you before you can second guess it. Faint warmth touches your face, and you fix your eyes on the locket, not wanting to look up and gauge his reaction just yet.

“Thank you.” His voice is soft, and you find you can no longer fight the upward lift of your gaze. But the warm pink cheeks and shy smile you’re met with soothe the nervous buzz in your stomach. “And- and yours?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, watching as he slides a gentle thumb over the engravings. Everything about this man is gentle, soft, like the moonlight that falls across the sides of his face, making him appear to have a silver halo. His eyes, his skin, his voice, his lips; he’s soft all over, and you’re willing to bet that that same nature reaches into the very core of his being.

You wonder if he’d be soft under your fingertips, against your lips, caressing your skin.

The thought invades your mind so quickly that it momentarily stuns you, and you draw back, blinking hard and with a sudden warmth in your face. Your feelings always have the strangest timing.

He asked you a question, you remind yourself, forcing yourself out of the dangerous grip of your own thoughts.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” Your throat strains around the words and you have to swallow against the unexpected dryness.

His lips twirl. “Pretty.”

The cool air in the train car is suddenly suffocating.

Oh god.

“Do you have a place to stay for the night?”

What did you just say?

His eyes widen and you hold your breath, wishing you could pull the words right back out from the air that they now hung in, heavy and demanding, unable to be ignored.

“I don’t.”

The softness of his reply contrasts heavily with the expression that flashes across his face, the glint in his eye as his fingers tighten around your ring. You sink your teeth into the inside of your cheek, the warm metal of his locket pressing against your fingers.

“Me either.” You take a breath. “I know a hotel.”

Silence. Soft, warm, intoxicating silence.

Then his tongue drags over the full, pink flesh of his bottom lip, and you know you’re done for.

“Take me there.”

It’s a nice hotel.

The interior is pretty. Simple, but pretty. Flecks of gold complimenting soft, warm tones of brown. The woman behind the counter even manages to muster up a somewhat friendly smile as she passes you a room key despite the late hour; though, you’re certain she’d much rather be anywhere else in the world. You also don’t miss the soothing hum of orchestral melodies that pump through hidden speakers as you step into the mirrored walls of the elevator.

It’s a nice hotel.

But you can’t seem to appreciate it. Not fully, anyways. The mere knowledge of Doh Kyungsoo’s presence ruptures your sanity, and deems you wholly incapable of thinking rationally. The promise of midnight’s caress lingers in the air around you, invading your every sense like a poisonous gas. It’s something you can’t see, can’t smell, can’t touch. But you feel it. You feel it pulsing in your veins, dizzying your mind, eating away at your self control. It’s like there’s a string being pulled taut between you, the tension growing greater and greater with every passing second. Your gut churns in anticipation, skin prickling. You can barely keep your feet from shuffling and your hands from fidgeting as a foreign impatience gnaws at you.

But then the door of room 107 clicks shut, and the string snaps.

You have him pressed up against the door before your brain can condone it, mouth feasting on his. He doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate, hands sliding around your waist and pressing into the small of your back, holding you tightly against him.

You pour yourself into his kiss, pour out your pain and heartache, pour out your hopes and dreams that will never be, pour out your longing and desperation. You pour until he’s overflowing. But even then, you don’t stop, and he doesn’t want you to. Because just as you’re pouring yourself into him, he’s pouring himself into you, filling you up in ways you never imagined possible, filling the void that another created. He’s chasing away the emptiness with his eager tongue, fending off the icy chill of betrayal with his warm caress.

Greedy fingers find the collar of your borrowed coat, hurriedly pushing it off his shoulders. There’s a soft thud when the thick material hits the floor. A low groan vibrates in his throat, one hand raising to cup the back of your head while your own slip beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. It’s over his head and discarded onto the floor in a matter of moments, and then there’s only skin. Warm, smooth skin. He’s hot to the touch, almost searing, but you can’t find it within yourself to mind the burn.

Distracted and disoriented by his feverish kiss, you don’t realize you’re moving backwards until the back of your knees hit the end of a mattress and suddenly you’re sprawled flat on your back. Kyungsoo hovers above you, panting and red in the face. His lips are swollen and a delicious shade of pink, just begging to be bitten. But it looks like he wants to say something, so you refrain.

“I— I don’t usually do things like this.” He admits, voice unstable and breathy. “Actually, I never do things like this.”

His confession has a light smile curling onto your lips. “Me either.” You murmur, admiring the way the silver moonlight spills across his sun kissed skin. He shudders faintly as your fingers trace over his bare waist, up over the small of his back, following the length of his spine until they reach their final destination, threading themselves through his thick black locks. His midnight eyes flutter behind the rims of his glasses when you offer a gentle tug. He makes no objection as you carefully remove the spectacles from his face, reaching over to set them gentle on the nightstand before returning your attention to his handsome face.

“But there’s a first for everything.”

He professes his agreement with the press of his hot mouth against yours. The kiss is softer this time, probably because you allow him to lead. It’s slow, deep, tender— tender in such a way that it’s somewhat surprising, especially between two strangers. But you don’t question it, instead relishing in the slow drags of his tongue and gentle nips of his teeth.

His lips are sweet, tasting of mint and honey. But there’s a bitterness, a distinctive saltiness that clings to the plush flesh. You don’t have to question if his tears slipped over them, tears he probably hadn’t bothered to wipe away. Briefly, you wonder if he can taste the lingering residue of your own heartache. Then you feel an unmistakable hardness against your hip, and stop thinking all together.

He groans, the sound soft and low. “Can I touch you?”

You don’t miss a beat. “Yes.”

At your concession, warm fingers rouse goosebumps across your skin as he feathers delicate touches over your exposed stomach. Chills roll down your spine, body arching up, seeking out more— and he happily delivers. You jolt as he presses his face into your neck, hot tongue licking from the curve of your jaw down to the slope of your shoulder. All the while, his hands slip higher up your body, sliding beneath the thin fabric of your blouse, not stopping until they find the swells of your bra clad chest. You hiss as his thumb drifts underneath of it, slowly circling your rapidly hardening nipple.

He hums against your collarbone, pleased with your reaction. “Sensitive?” He asks, though you can just make out the slightest of mocking pitches clinging to the word. You don’t bother denying it. Instead, you push your hips up, rolling them slowly, deeply into his, drawing out a low groan from his lips, forehead falling against yours.

A smirk traces your lips. “Sensitive?”

He chuckles, hooded eyes fluttering open. The look within them, the lust, the hunger, the desire, ignites every last fiber of your being. You can’t seem to remember the last time anyone has looked at you with such intense want. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel incredible. To be wanted. To be craved. Even if it was by a complete stranger.

You tip your chin up, easily finding his pillowy mouth and smothering it against your own. His kiss was addictive. You just could not seem to get enough of it.

All too soon, he was pulling away and you have to bite your tongue to stifle a sound of protest. His hands find the bottom of your top, toying with it for a short moment before he asks, “can I take this off?”

Abruptly, you sit up, forcing him to fall back onto his heels. “Don’t ask. Just do.” He can only watch with lust blown eyes as you peel your shirt off of your body in one swift motion, exposing your bare skin to his ravenous gaze. A deep moan rises from the depths of his chest, the sound rousing an inexplicable heat in the pit of your stomach that quickly seeps into your bloodstream and spreads through the rest of your body like an erotic poison. Teeth biting sinking into your lip, you trace a finger over the strap of your bra.

“This, too?”

“Don’t ask,” he takes in a breath so deep that you can almost feel the hot rush of oxygen filling your lungs as well, “just do.”

You intend to laugh, finding enjoyment in this little game of yours, but the sounds breaks off halfway up your throat when his hands circle around your body and you feel his fingers making quick work of the clip, the tension giving way in a matter of seconds.

“I think that’s the fastest a mans ever been able to take off my bra.” You muse with a playful quirk of your brow, allowing him to nudge the grey material down the length of your arms, before tossing it uncaringly onto the floor. “I’m impressed.”

He smiles, and you’re, once again, immediately floored by its beauty. “I’m glad I could leave an impression.”

Please, feel free to leave me with more than just an impression.

Somehow, you manage to bite your tongue and keep the words locked in your mind, quickly deciding that undoing his belt is a task far more deserving of your attention. It’s impossible to miss the bulge straining against the tight confines of his jeans, but you get the sense that he’s unashamed. You don’t mind. Besides, what’s shame between a couple of heartbroken strangers?

“Fuck.” He huffs out the curse, mouth falling open as your curious fingers caress over his arousal through the tight, black fabric of his boxers. You can feel the heat of him, the impressive hardness giving away his unspoken need. “No, no… let me take of you first.” He murmurs, gently brushing your wandering hands away from his clothed length. “Lay back for me?”

Christ. You happily fall back into the plush white pillows, legs spreading around the shape of his body. Desire coils in your belly in tight, hot tendrils as his hands slide up the length of your legging clad thighs, skin burning fiercely in their wake. His lips press slow kisses to the skin of your hip while his fingers gently peel the article off of your body, leaving you almost completely bare aside from a pair of thin black underwear. It’s a sight he eagerly drinks in.

“Please.” You plead pathetically, a need unlike anything you’d ever experienced pulsing like liquid ecstasy through your veins. His gaze pierces you, pupils blown as his lips graze over your clothed heat. There’s no need to elaborate, he knows what you want, knows like he can read the desire on your face. It’s static shock when he slips a finger beneath the undergarment, grazing your slick lips in the process of shifting it to the side. It’s pure electricity when he dips down and slips his tongue over your core, all the way up to circle your sensative clit. Your hips jerk up, but he presses them back down into the mattress with steady hands.

“You taste so sweet…” he breathes, hot, praising words caressing your burning skin and igniting an angry flame in the pit of your stomach. A low whine rumbles in the back of your throat, eyes fluttering in bliss as he teases your slick opening with warm, pillowy lips. Fingers slipping through his thick black locks, you weakly tug him closer, a familiar ache swelling in the pit of your stomach.

“Tell me what feels good.” You can only nod dumbly at his muffled request, the vibration of his voice directly against your wet core having a mildly dizzying effect. Pleasure spills into your veins at the same time he takes you by surprise, a single finger pressing inside of you. An airy ‘oh god’ flutters off your lips, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy him, so he presses, “good?”

“Yes. Yes, so good. So good.” You manage to choke out as he tugs at one of your legs, positioning it over his shoulder. He’s looking up at you now, starry eyes taking on a dangerous, lustful glow beneath the silver moonlight. It’s the kind of look that makes your stomach twist and your pussy throb.

Oh god. Who is this man? To make you feel this kind of pleasure… it’s the kind of pleasure no one has ever managed to make you feel before. It’s the kind of pleasure that licks at every cell of your being, rippling through you in slow, heavy waves. Your toes curl, your back bows. Your muscles shudder. It’s hot and it’s everywhere, invading every inch of you like a slow poison seeping through your bloodstream, infecting you down to your very core.

Doh Kyungsoo. You don’t know much about him. Only his name and that his heart is in a similar state as your own. But it doesn’t seem to matter.

Or, rather— that’s all that seems to matter.

Perhaps you sensed it, sensed his pain, his broken heart. And when you looked into those beautiful starry eyes, you had seen suffering that mirrored your own. It drew you to him, and him to you. You’d come to a mutual agreement in that moment. What was the use in suffering alone? Might as well share your pain with another. Maybe it would ease the hurt, or maybe it would just make it all the worse. Whichever came to be, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. Not right now, at least. Not with the way that his lethal tongue was lapping at your heat in slow, deep strokes. Not with the way he was thrusting his fingers inside of you, curling, caressing, exploring.

It was too good to be concerned with anything else, future and past alike. Even your broken heart had become an afterthought under his bliss inducing ministrations.

“Oh god—” a shuttering curse flew from your chest, heel pressing into his shoulder blade. He had wrapped his lips around your clit, flicking his tongue over it expertly and at the same time, his fingers had found that perfect little spot inside of you that sent white hot electricity crackling through your veins.

Then, the coil snapped. Specks of white invade your vision, and for a moment you believe you are seeing stars. Or perhaps it’s his eyes, but you can’t really tell which direction you’re looking in, the incredible pleasure of the high he had just thrust you into entirely too dizzying and disorienting to decipher up from down or left from right. A choked moan followed by a broken whine escapes your gaping lips. Your hips jump off the mattress, refusing to be restrained any longer as they grind themselves desperately against his heavenly mouth. He doesn’t object, only moaning deeply as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

“Holy fuck…” you pant, chest heaving. He chuckles, climbing up and attaching his lips to yours. You taste yourself, the bitter sweetness hitting your tastebuds with a delicate swipe of his tongue against yours.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he hums into the kiss, gentle thumb drawing slow circles against the skin of your hip, “got me so hard...”

“Yeah?” You ask, voice airy. He nods, sinking his teeth into your lower lip. “Let me feel.”

You feel him smile into the kiss. Then his hand finds your wrist, guiding it slowly down the length of his body, until your fingertips are feathering over the strained fabric of his boxers. He’s hard. So hard. You can almost feel him throbbing. Any haziness lingering from your previous orgasm is immediately vanquished by the thought, wicked desire flooding your senses. He’s breathing hard against your throat, gripping tightly at the flesh of your thighs. He shudders violently when you find his tip, tracing it experimentally. The sound he produces in response is enough to have you clenching around nothing.

“Do you have a condom?”

His head snaps up, wide eyes meeting your hooded ones. He has to swallow a groan once he sees the expression on your face, the lust burning in your gaze. Nodding, he slips a hand into the pocket of his half off jeans and tugs out a small, square foil. You can’t help the mild amusement that curls the corners of your lips, the irony not lost on you. He huffs at you, “I like to be prepared.”

“I bet.” You croon, voice pitching playfully.

He grinds his hips into yours in retaliation. Still sensitive, you jolt beneath him with a quiet moan, a reaction that coaxed a mildly taunting smirk onto his glistening lips. Fixing him a glare lacking any genuine malice, you hook your fingers into the loops of his jeans and tug.

“Shut up and get naked.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, and you can’t help the way your heart trembles in your chest at the sight of his scrunched nose. The sound of it warms you up from the inside out, and you smile. He’s beautiful when he laughs.

“Yes, ma’am,” he giggles, sitting up to kick his jeans onto the floor, followed suit by his boxers. Somehow, he’s even more beautiful completely bare, his honeyed skin and lean muscle on full display for your feasting eyes. Your tongue licks at the inside of your teeth, longing to steal a taste of him. But you refrain, barely, and only in favor of pressing the heels of your palms into his shoulders and flipping him onto his back. The swift change in position draws a surprised gasp from his lips, but he makes no complaint as you swing a leg over his hip and settle yourself on top of his thighs.

Plucking the condom from his hold, you shoot him a light smirk. “Let me help you with that.” His brows raise, pink tongue peeking out to drag over the corner of his mouth.

“Yes ma’am.” His voice, having dropped an entire octave, makes your skin prickle with goosebumps, arousal swirling to life in your stomach. Carefully, you tear open the wrapping and slip the rubber over his length. He visibly shudders at the contact, eyes fluttering when you not so accidentally allow your fingers to feather over his hot skin on the way down. Shifting forward, you position yourself above him, one had falling onto the mattress beside his head while the other teases your entrance with his tip. You want him inside of you, want to feel him stretch you out, want to feel him throbbing and hear those gorgeous sounds that you’ve already found yourself addicted to. And you don’t deny yourself of that desire, sinking down onto him in one swift motion.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and you’re not completely certain if it was you or him or both. But you know it’s him that lets out the first real sound, a groan, low and smooth in your ears. The sound is trailed by a shaky curse, a breath of your name, and the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your hips, though, he makes no attempt to get you to move. After all, you have, what feels like, all the time in the world. There’s no need to rush things. He knows that.

For a handful of moments, you remain still, adjusting to him, to the blissful stretch. You can’t remember the last time anyone has filled you so well, so wholly.

Inhaling deeply, you push yourself into an upright position, palms flattening over the gentle swells of his chest to balance yourself on. When you finally move, it’s at a slow, deliberate pace. Controlled downward thrusts of your hips that have him filling you to that perfect depth over and over again. Heat consumes you, your skin trembling and perspiring within its grasp.

He’s holding you so tight, looking up at you with those starry eyes. Those beautiful starry eyes that have somehow both completely undone you, and made you complete again. In the span of only a few hours nonetheless. It’s baffling. He’s baffling. How can a man like him exist? How could anyone have let him go? Then again… he’s still a stranger. But he’s a beautiful stranger with the kind of gaze that reaches past your skin and bone and straight onto your core. It feels like he sees you, knows you, understands you. And oh god, after so long— it feels good to be seen.

You moan breathlessly, head tipping back as your hips roll hungrily over his. Below you, Kyungsoo is fighting to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a single moment. But the pleasure is overwhelming, hot in his veins, boiling in his blood. He was losing himself, but in the best way imaginable. In you, to you, for you. Slowly, yet all at once. It’s like drowning: filling his lungs, pouring into every empty crevice of his body. It was consuming him— and he was loving it.

Searing fingertips dance over your body, up your stomach, over your breasts, across your collarbone. Your skin burns and shudders in their wake, the sensation so distracting you don’t notice one of his hands coiling around the back of your neck until you’re being tugged downward, swollen lips colliding with his. You moan in surprise before melting into him, gentle hands raising to cup his burning cheeks.

“You feel—” he gasps against your mouth, “so good.”

His hips snap up, causing your back to arch deeply, chest pressing tightly to his. You can feel the racing of his heart, the astonishing heat of his skin. You swear he’s going to burn right through you.

Not that you’d really mind.

“Kyungsoo.” You pant, hands dragging down the length of his neck to grip at his steady shoulders.

He tips his head forward, bleary, hooded eyes fixing on yours. “Yeah?”

“Fuck me.”

There’s a pause. And then you’re on your back, splayed out beneath his body, and he’s fucking himself into you like his life depends on it. An uncontrollable cry is wretched from your throat, arms flinging themselves around his neck as he lifts your hips off the mattress. Like this, he can go even deeper, fuck you even better, make you come even faster. He knows what you need, and he knows exactly how to give it to you.

Ecstasy rips through you when his fingers reach between your bodies, finding your swollen clit with astonishing ease. Your legs raise, ankles locking around his back, urging him closer, urging him deeper. A strained groan tears free from his fluttering lips, his eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him. In response, he rolls the heel of his palm over your clit, while simultaneously hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you that has been neglected for far too long.

It’s so much— too much. It feels like you’re on fire, and he’s pouring the gasoline. If he keeps going like this, you know you won’t last.

Then his eyes, those goddamn starry eyes, meet yours, and you feel yourself come undone.

If there was any lingering hurt, sadness, or regret— it is completely obliterated by the mind numbing intensity of your second orgasm. It hits you hard and fast; ten times more powerful than the first. Your muscles shudder, your skin burns, your mind empties. All you feel is pure, euphoric pleasure. Every cell of your being is consumed by it.

Kyungsoo doesn’t last a moment longer than you do, the second the first wave hits you, he’s spilling himself into the condom, moaning and trembling above you. You are just conscious enough to force your eyes to stay open, not wanting to miss a second of the beautiful contortions of his handsome features as he reaches what looks to be the epitome of pleasure. There’s little doubt in your mind that the image of him unraveling will haunt your dreams in nights to come. Not that you’d mind. A face like his is a pretty good face to be haunted by.

By the time his high finally recedes, his muscles are so exhausted that they quiver beneath the weight of his body. He just barely manages to hold himself up long enough to roll safely off of you, before collapsing onto the mattress at your side.

For a moment, neither of you speak. Catching your breath alone is proving difficult enough without being hindered by any pathetic attempt at formulating a coherent sentence in the aftermath of one of the most mind blowing orgasms you’ve ever had.

Your cells are still trembling in the aftershock when Kyungsoo finally speaks— or, attempts to, at the very least.

“That was— you were— wow.”

Breathless laughter bubbles at your lips and your turn just in time to see a bashful smile creep onto his.

“You were pretty wow yourself, Doh Kyungsoo.”

Doh Kyungsoo in the wake of an amazing fuck is something to behold. His bare skin glistening with sweat, cheeks and chest flushed a deep red, his thick black hair is unruly and sticking out in strange directions. He is an absolute mess, and he is beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that your breath catches in your throat at the mere sight of him, though you try your best not to make it too obvious.

With a huff, you roll onto your side and toss an arm over his stomach while the other slips beneath the small of his back, fingers interlocking on the opposite side of his body.

“I hope you don’t mind,” you hum tiredly, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m an avid believer in cuddling after sex.”

He chuckles, and you feel the warm press of his palm between your shoulder blades as he tugs you closer.

“I don’t mind,” soft, starry eyes flit over your blissed out features, “I don’t mind at all.”

In the distance, a train horn blares.

“Why’d she leave you?”

The question doesn’t seem to catch him off guard. But his hand pauses where it had begun to trace abstract designs in your skin. He blinks, purses his lips, then exhales softly from his nose and stares blankly across the room.

“She… fell in love with someone else.”

This surprises you.

“That doesn’t make sense.” You mutter, brows furrowing.

He glances down at you. “What do you mean?”

You meet his eyes. “You’re one of the good ones.”

He falters. It’s only for a moment, in which his eyes widen, lips part, cheeks flush, but you can see something flash across his face. An emotion he gives you no time to decipher before he wipes the expression away and raises a brow, one corner of his mouth turning upwards in a lazy smirk.

“And how exactly, after knowing me for all of three hours, did you come to that conclusion?” Curiosity and amusement swim in his gaze.

“Call it a sixth sense,” you grin, peering up at him, “I’m good at reading people,” you contemplate that for a moment, “sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

Your shoulders raise and you watch your fingers trace invisible words across his chest. “I thought he was the kind of man that would never betray me, never lie to me, never break my heart. I thought I knew him. But look where we are now.”

A comforting hand caresses your waist.

“What happened?”

That could be a loaded question. What happened? Everything. Nothing. Something. But you opted to give him a more straightforward answer. “I’m not sure. The only part I really saw was him railing his secretary in our bed. But it’s not so hard to make up the rest of the story in my head.”

“His… secretary?”

You chuckle. “Cliché, isn’t it?”

“Yes but…” he cuts himself off and shakes his head, but you can practically see the gears beginning to turn in his head.

“What is it?”

He hesitates, then speaks slowly, carefully, as if contemplating each work before it could come out of his mouth. “It’s just, my g— ex-girlfriend worked as a secretary for this big shot new tech company. Crazy coincidence… right?”

A shock goes through you. Big shot new tech company? You’d definitely heard those words before. But there was just no way. The chances of it were one in a million. There had to be hundreds of big shot new tech companies in your city, and thousands of secretaries that worked for them. There was no way…

“W–What’s the name of the company?” You ask, even though you’re not entirely confident that you want to know the answer.

He swallows. “Strato Tech.”

You blink once, twice, then ask,

“I don’t suppose your girlfriend has a bird tattoo on her left shoulder?”

He offers a nod. “That would be her.”

There’s another pause. And then you’re laughing. You’re laughing so hard your stomach aches and tears spring to the corners of your eyes. Kyungsoo is in a similar state, bellowing belly laughter exploding from his chest, loud and uncontrollable.

For what feels like hours (but was probably only minutes) the two of you laugh. You laugh because what are the chances? What are the chances that your fiancé and his girlfriend work at the same big shot new tech company? What are the chances that they feel a mutual attraction and begin a secret affair? What are the chances that you stumble onto the same train as her heartbroken boyfriend and fall into bed with him? What are the chances?

“This is unbelievable.” Kyungsoo pants, tossing an arm over his eyes, a cheek achingly wide smile plastered across his face.

“When’d our lives turn into a poorly written soap opera?” You scoff in disbelief.

“You tell me.” He chuckles.

Then, an idea strikes you. Mischievous excitement sparks in your eyes.

“I feel like this is an opportunity we can’t miss, Doh Kyungsoo.”

He raises a brow, intrigue curling at the corners of his lips. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

Smirking, you sit up on your knees and reach for something on the nightstand. “All you have to do… is sit back and look pretty.”

Chanyeol sighs softly, hands sliding over his face.

He fucked up. Bad.

It’s been hours. Hours since he made the mistake of bringing the new secretary back to your shared home. Hours since he watched helplessly as you stormed out. Hours since he kicked his accomplice to the curb and desperately scrambled to right his wrong. Hours since he made one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

It’s been hours, and he can’t stop worrying.

He tried calling and texting, but you must have turned off your phone because none of them went through. He even reached out to your friends and family. None of them knew what he’d done yet, but none of them knew where you were either.

He never meant for this to happen, really. He had been stressed out and drinking, and she’d been there. Apparently, in his tipsy mind, that was enough. Enough to throw years of his wonderful relationship out the window in a matter of moments.

It was a mistake.

But it was a mistake you wouldn’t easily forgive. Not like the (many) times when he accidentally knocked glassware off the counter and it shattered. Not like the time he showed up so late to one of your dates that you’d eaten both the main course and dessert all on your own. Not like the time he kept you up late and you’d been so tired the next morning you slept through a meeting. Not like the time he got upset because you beat him at his favorite video game and ignored you for two days.

This was a mistake that no amount of desperate apologies or late night kisses could fix.

He cheated.

He cheated.

Groaning in frustration, he presses the heels of his palms against his swollen eyes. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Then his phone dings.

He all but lunges for it, and feels his heart leap into his throat at the sight of your name plastered across the top of the screen. His hands are shaking so terribly that he mistyped his password three times before finally managing to unlock it.

But the message that greets him makes any semblance of hope for your future together drop like a dead bird in his chest.

from : love of my life 💕

tell your little secretary friend that her sexy boyfriend says hi ;)

delivered 3:04 am

[halpertstuna]

must have been the wind - jj maybank

A/N: this imagine is inspired by the song “must have been the wind” by alec benjamin. i wrote this imagine listening to the slowed version of the song. i highly recommend you listen to it whilst/before/after reading this(:

pairing: jj x reader

word count: 2,874

warnings: mentions of domestic violence, some angst, some fluff, ya know, all that jazz. and probably typos (this isn’t really edited, pls forgive me)

-> masterlist <-

(gif credit: @jjbanks )

It was 1:28AM, you gazed out the window of the moving car, your elbow was placed on the door panel whilst your head rested in the palm of your hand, the dark navy blue moonlit water in the ocean outside was being reflected in your eyes.

You were currently sat in the backseat of a white Honda lost in your thoughts. Your dad got transferred to North Carolina due to him getting a promotion at work, which was a big deal, especially since your mum wasn’t working and so he jumped on the opportunity right away, moving the two of you with him.

Obviously you were happy for him, but you were also kind of glum since it meant packing up your entire life back in Miami and leaving all of your friends behind with everything else that was familiar, warm and felt like home.

You were being pulled out of your thoughts by the car coming to a stop.

You exited the car taking your bag and suitcase with you to the front porch, then retuned to help your exhausted parents with theirs, once you acknowledged they were struggling to keep their eyes open.

The movers were supposed to come in the morning at about 8AM to unload the rest of your belongings.

You had entered the house and your dad lead you to your room, your mum following not far behind, not wanting to be alone in the foreign, empty house.

You set your bags down next to the bedroom door and kissed both your parents goodnight. They went to their room shortly after and fell into a deep asleep right away.

You changed into pyjamas and laid down in bed staring at the ceiling, you were tired but you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep.

After about an hour of just gazing at the fan spinning above your head, your eyes started to flutter shut, and just as you were about to drift off to sleep the sound of glass shattering startled you, making your heart race as the sound echoed through your ears.

You jumped out of bed and ran to your parents room worried, only to find out they were fast asleep.

Where did the sound come from then? And how come your parents didn’t hear anything? Is the tiredness starting to affect your hearing? Did you just imagine it?

You walked back to your room confused and curious as to where the sound came from.

you laid back in bed and quickly fell asleep assuming what you heard was caused by your sleep deprived state, your ears playing tricks on you.

You managed to fall asleep pretty quickly but you were pulled out of your dreams by the sound of two male voices, screaming at the top of their lungs, shooting at each other vitriolic comments.

Now you were sure, you weren’t just imagining it earlier.

You walked towards your bedroom window, peeking out in hopes of seeing something, anything that could give you a clue to whatever the hell is going on at almost four in the morning.

After about five minutes of hearing despicable words roll off someone’s tongue, muffled by the walls yet clear as day the second you let them sink in, you decided to go back to sleep since it’s really not your place, and just as you were about to walk back to your bed, you noticed a tall figure exit the house in a hurry while someone from behind it kept roaring in a resentful tone vile words.

You quickly turned your attention back to the view your window had to offer, watching as what looked like a teenage boy, put a helmet on his disheveled hair, get on a bike and ride off.

And with that, the noise stopped.

You were stood by your window as the quiet night swallowed you whole, the only sound audible now was your breathing.

You laid back in your bed taking in what you had just witnessed.

Who was that boy? Who was the mysterious, scary voice behind the door? why was he yelling such dreadful things at him? And what more was he capable of?

The questions were endless, they haunted your thoughts, knowing you had to find out what was going on, if that boy was okay.

You dozed off not long after, given the fact that you were after a flight and it was really late.

The next morning you were woken up by the rays of sunlight breaking through the glass of your window, resting on your closed eyelids. The realisation that you forgot to shut the curtains last night before you went to bed suddenly hitting you.

It was almost eight. You let out a loud groan and flipped so you were facing the wall, desperate for more sleep.

You barely had time to even try before your mum knocked on your door, your eyes fluttered open, she smiled at you greeting you good morning.

You let out a sigh and sat up, mumbling under your breath “it could be better”.

You got up and brushed your teeth, then went back to your room to get changed. You wore blue jean shorts, a black oversized band tee and white slip-on vans.

you entered the kitchen and noticed your dad making coffee, he handed you a mug filled with the warm liquid, you quickly drank it and set the mug down in the sink, realising he had started unpacking the “fragile - kitchen” box, meaning the mover’s loading truck was already outside.

You got out of the hous and your dad followed, your mum was already helping with the boxes and the two of you joined her and the movers helping them unload the truck.

It was almost nine and you were down to your last boxes, when you heard what sounded like the engine of a motorcycle.

Your head shot in the direction of the house next to yours as you noticed the same bike from yesterday come to a stop at the front porch, a blonde mop of hair was the first thing you noticed once the boy took off the helmet he had on, running his fingers through his hair.

He started making his way into the house, not giving you a single look.

When you finished unloading and unpacking your parents asked you to take out the trash.

You held two big, black garbage bags in your petite hands and started making your way to the bin.

You threw the content in, and just as you turned around the boy exited his house.

The two of you made eye contact and you offered him a kind smile which he mirrored without hesitation.

You started walking towards your house but stopped in your tracks at the memories of last night.

He was sat on his doorstep, a juul in his hand, as he hit it repeatedly.

You started walking towards him.

“Hey” he greeted sending you a smirk.

“Hi” you replied grinning.

As you got closer to him, you were met with the prettiest pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen.

“I’m JJ” he introduced himself taking another hit

“I’m Y/N, I’m new here” you stated suddenly shy under his gaze, taking in how attractive he is from up close.

“Yeah, i kinda figured, I saw the truck here earlier, plus I’ve never seen you around before” he affirmed

You nodded, a comfortable silence fell upon you two.

You were looking him up and down, he was wearing a grey tank top that revived his biceps and kaki shorts with a pair of black boots.

You then looked at the juul he was holding and noticed his knuckles looked slightly bruised, painted in this violet colour. You studied his features slowly before breaking the silence.

“Hey, um I actually wanted to ask you a question” He looked up at you signalling you to continue. “Last night, when I was trying to sleep, I heard glass shattering and other noises, d- did you hear anything?” He averted his gaze from you to the dock in front of him shaking his head no.

You knew he was lying. But you didn’t push him any further, knowing that if he wanted to talk about it he would.

You quickly changed the subject which he was highly grateful for.

The two of you sat there talking for a few hours, you told him about your life back home and he told you about the pogues, the two of you found out you actually have a lot in common, you share the same love for the ocean and surfing, you both would do anything for your loved ones and you both want to travel the world and explore it.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been sat with JJ, talking, until the two of you noticed the sun starting to set in the horizon, painting the sky in the most beautiful shades of yellowish-red slowly followed by shades of violet and blue.

You darted your gaze over to JJ, only to discover his was already on you. You smiled up at him, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, you whispered a “hi” to which he chuckled and shook his head, smiling at how cute he found your softness.

And for the first time since you moved, you felt welcome. And even though it started getting chilly, you felt warm inside, thanks to the humorous boy beside you.

You could hear your name being called from inside the house, telling you dinner’s ready.

You bid your goodbyes and walked back to your house.

You ate dinner with your family then went to bed, this time falling asleep easily since you were exhausted from that day.

At about two in the morning, you had to pee, so you walked to the bathroom half asleep but were quickly snapped back to reality when you heard “I’ll fucking kill you!” bawled with rage.

Your eyes were shot open at the sound of that and you started freaking out a bit. You were really worried but you didn’t want to stick your nose where it didn’t belong, so you decided to let it go.

When you laid back in bed you heard someone ignite a motorcycle and take off, you assumed it was JJ, and again, with that, just like the night before, the noise stopped.

The next day you didn’t see him. You were worried something might have happened but you reassured yourself, assuming he was probably with the pogues. That day was dedicated to helping your parents unpack furniture, cutlery etc.

You went to sleep pretty early given you were in desperate need of it.

You were abruptly woken up by the sound of loud thuds and the words “worthless piece of shit” ringing in your ears as they were being yelled at someone.

You quickly got up and looked out your window, you were concerned about JJ’s well being, assuming he got back home while you were sleeping.

This time you just couldn’t shake the feeling something’s seriously wrong, with that you slipped on your shoes and quickly ran to his house in a panic.

You knocked on the door firmly.

Once it was swung open and you were met with the same pair of blue eyes you saw yesterday, but this time with a bruise under one and a cut under the other.

His eyes softened at the sight of your worried state and you drank him in, searching his face for more bruises.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked now angry “what’s all that noise?!”

JJ looked at you then down at his feet and said “I wish I could tell you but I didn’t hear anything” you were taken aback by his words.

You knew he was playing dumb, and usually you won’t want to intrude but you were far too worried about him.

“Are you serious?” You asked him with wide eyes. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. It must’ve been the wind.” you were dumbfounded by his statement, speechless.

“Thanks for caring, but I have to go back inside, good night.” Your eyes swam with concern as he closed the door. You walked back to your house not wanting to pressure him any further into talking about it since he looked like he was on the verge of breaking.

The next day you went to the beach with your surfboard. You ran into the water, eager to catch some waves when you were met with none other than the “surfing legend” himself, as he liked to say, JJ Maybank.

He was on his surfboard riding a wave as you watched in awe.

Once he saw you he started paddling on his board in your direction.

“Well hello there, how are you enjoying the waters of the Outer Banks so far?” he greeted authoritatively and you giggled at that. “I actually just got here, didn’t really get the chance to ride any waves. But I can’t say the same about you. You’re really good” you commented and a grin spread across his face. “Thanks” he replied.

He sat straddling his surfboard and as he got closer you noticed a giant bruise on his stomach, you gasped at the sight, he didn’t understand at first, then followed your gaze. “What happened?” You asked faintly, reaching out and tenderly tracing the bruise with your fingertips. “It’s nothing,” he scoffed “you should see the other guy” he chuckled awkwardly, but you weren’t buying it.

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it,” you started “but just know my door is always open, you can come whenever you’d like for as long as you desire if you ever need a friend” he shot you a watery smile at that invitation and a comforting silence fell upon the two of you.

You broke it by saying “I bet I can catch that wave before you Maybank!” Then started steering away towards the giant wave that was heading your way, “Oh! Bring it on Y/L/N!” He retorted following not far behind.

That day was fun for the both of you, sun, surf and no worries.

When you got home you took a shower and put on a pair of grey sweatpants and a white oversized shirt.

It was getting late and you were beat from surfing and being in the sun all day, you had no trouble drowsing off.

You were sound asleep until you were alarmed by the sound of knocking on your window. You shifted the blanket off your body and got up, your warm feet made contact with the cold wooden floor, waking you up a bit as you approached your window.

You rubbed your eyes trying to make out the face of the blurry figure on the other side of the glass. You quickly picked up that it was JJ and opened the window, letting him climb in.

He didn’t need to say anything, knowing you already knew why he was there. You turned on the the table lamp, then noticed he had a busted lip, and a fresh cut on his cheek.

You were quick to wrap him in your embrace, hugging him dangerously close. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and started crying, tears slid down his cheeks, making the collar of your shirt wet and see through, but you didn’t care. He buried his face in your chest and you held him as tight as possible until he managed to steady his breathing.

You held his hand and intertwined your fingers, leading him to the bathroom without a single word being passed between the two of you. You signaled him to sit in the counter and he obeyed. You started cleaning up his bruises and cuts, bandaging what you could.

After you finished you told him to go back to your room. You went to the kitchen and quickly returned, plopping down on the bed beside him, handing him ice cream, knowing it’s the most comforting thing you could give, other than a hug which followed the deed.

You put on “Iron Man”, trying to lighten the mood with Tony Stark’s humour.

As the credits rolled he opened his mouth “I’m sorry,” he mumbled “for bothering you like this it’s just- I mean- I-“ you cut him off by caressing his cheek with your hand, he leaned into your touch. “It’s okay.” you cooed, a single tear slid down his cheek and you wiped it away with your thumb, smiling weakly at him “We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, and until you are, we can say ‘it must have been the wind’” you quoted what he’d told you the other day, gaining a smile from him, a real smile, eyes full of adoration.

You pulled the blanket on the two of you up to your chin.

You shut off the light and muttered a “Good night” before drifting off.

He kissed your forehead, lingering for a bit longer than he should’ve.

He murmured a good night before falling asleep as well beside you.

[dropsofletters]

to the man who broke my heart

title: to the man who broke my heart pairing: yoo kihyun/reader genre: runaway!au/1990’s!au/friends with benefits!au/rich kids!au summary: behind flashing cameras and news articles, people don't realize the emotional pressure and stress celebrities, from any industry, go through. that's something she has bonded about with yoo kihyun, co-owner of a business just like herself, seeking for power in other forms rather than money. the only way they can commit to their dreams, however, is by running away from such a world. will they be able to withstand the idea of being out of the public? type: angst/fluff/romance/suggestive word count: 9,799

The nineties are so posh, so sufficiently cocky that it would leave anyone with a bitter taste on their mouths. The upstanding point of friendships, of growth, of ambition, of leaving nostalgia behind for more futuristic beings. People cared so much that they stopped caring, earning this fashionable yet futuristically invasive mindset that, on the long run, will be an issue to society.

For anyone but the ones with the riches in the world, whose nine-to-five jobs consist of socialite invitations and whom will only grow stronger with their exclusive clubs, their bright and enigmatic personas that will always be a societal rule. Those who have money never get old, never run out of this je ne se quoi people desire to have—it only heightens if that person is good to the public eye, a role model of sorts.

This life is so easy. Her life is so easy. For the love of absolute money, she gets to have one of the best cars of the decade, a porsche that sits at the front of her favorite lounge, heels clicking against the pavement as the welcoming of her entrance, not even sparing the security guard a second glance when she finally enters her desired Saturday-night spot. To be honest, it’s not really simple to live a life like this—so superficial, immensely so, to the point she feels a little bit dizzy simply from stepping inside and hearing the infamous tune of a popular band playing, the rock, grunge-y tone what is in fashion nowadays.

From Mondays to Fridays, people imagine her to be certain way. In light of feminine power opening up to society as a norm, rather normality, it is still quite strange how magazines about the richest of individuals in the country, heck, even internationally, portray her as this gal of fashion, like a makeup enthusiast or an actress. Anyone who didn’t know her would never guess that, while still pretty young and definitely guided by a manager, certain staff to keep her on check, she invests rather than socialize. The usual concept that people misunderstand in such a place, her localities treating her like another blank dot in the famous environment.

You just have to be stupid.

Everyone thinks that is all it consists about. You have to entertain, give a little bit of drama, with the tiniest bit of professionalism, with an apology here and a rumor there and there you have it: the rich lifestyle.

Someone like Yoo Kihyun understands, along with her, that there is more to that statement.

This lounge—rather, this nightclub, everything is so relaxed nowadays (or pretends to be) that she has to call it that way, is their current meeting spot. In between seas of people dancing together, some wearing pointless sunglasses, loose fitted shirts, others standing on tables and yet a handful of people eating from those same tables indicates that she has gotten there at its peak in time. It’s easy to figure out where Kihyun may be, in all his delightfully alluring glory. Someone like him was crafted from all the wrecked pieces of the world, taking the most stunning of diamonds and the poise of the ocean to create him. Him, whom in some way or another gravitated towards her. Him, who understood the complexity of being part of a world and yet, being so far away from it. There is a difference between the owners of the circus and the ones who get to display their talents, yet, it’s ever a rarity to not put them together.

From the first moment she saw him, three years ago in 1991, she knew she’d fall for him. The type of falling that comes with being bored, with having too much time to spare and too many thoughts to get cherished by. If fame is a drug, daydreaming can count as one, too. At the time, his black hair had fell over his forehead romantically, eyes going upper and upper—no, even higher than the sky itself to create constellations with that smile of his, the one that rounds his cheeks, makes the tip of his nose more prominent and his heart less unreachable. He is a man that could be played with...if ignorance takes the best of you and you dismiss his intelligence, his strictfulness, his nature that says:

I’ll do what I want, when I want, because I want.

At the time, it was not a party. Hell, at the time her investments were not even as big as now, and yet, they had grown together. All they could have spoken about then was the growth of the telephonic industry after this decade, how the world seems to rotate more in socialties now that it has developed. A friend of a friend of a friend sort of thing, this is how the world sells. His intelligence had captured her, because past business he sees the world as an experiment. How long will it take until everyone lose their essence to be the copy to the neighbor, who is also a copy of someone else.

Kihyun believes in cycles, in routines, that is why they meet in that nightclub every single Saturday night, eight twenty-two on the dot and instead of dancing, he is simply in the corner, giving her that infamous smile from afar, like he really means to give a serious meaning to them later on in life.

He will, actually, he seems like the type—she is an investor of car companies, surely growing stronger and definitely a huge name that goes around far too much for anyone’s liking. Kihyun is developing cell phones, creates new pieces that only get better with time. He says ten years from now, he’ll get even more innovative. As of now, reuniting and pretending to be friends is easier, mainly because they have so much to lose. People like them do not get magazine covers, they don’t get to be called ‘the new Winona Ryder and Johnny Depp’, they are simply compared.

Who’s richer?

Who’s stronger?

Whose career is bound to finish easier?

This time around, cladded in a black sweater, she moves faster to get to the spot beside him, but just in time before she would sit down, she feels his hand gliding across her back, absentmindedly igniting her skin with trembles when he caresses the small bit that trails down her back in this pink cropped sweater of hers. The weather is cold, not cold enough to not feel put-together for once. He brings her closer, half sitting on the comfortable chair and half seated on his thigh, his fingers pointing at the TV screen not too far ahead with a gullible smile on his face. Whatever got Kihyun to smile like a little kid really must have amused him.

“Look at that.” But how does she look at anything else but him? That is the question, the same one she asks herself when she doesn’t permit herself to stay the night with him or when they come to the agreement to wait. Wait until they rot, maybe, but that is far from the point. Instead, she likes to cling to Saturdays, the only day in which Kihyun is not wearing a suit or holding tightly onto his phone. Thus, she does stop looking at him, instead settling her gaze on the TV ahead and trying to catch anything of what the news reporter is saying.

She doesn’t, actually, pretty difficult to do such a thing when everyone is singing along to music, grinding on each other and basically living their lives away for one night. She fixes herself on her seat when she gets to read the headlines, see the pictures that display on the screen just in time for her to scoff. “No way...”

“I can’t actually believe they did it,” Kihyun says, his arm still wrapped around her waist, his voice tickling her shoulder from the fair proximity in between the two. “They actually ran away.”

She gives him a side-eye, though she has to turn her head to look at him, bangs swept to the side softly, falling upon his face ever so slightly. He should use more hairspray, but that is not him—those are the try-hards of this fashion momentum, but not him. “This is so insane.” Two of their friends, a couple to be exact, had bonded with them about the complexity of this life and the toxicity of the public eye that feels like they own celebrities, or socialites, or anyone who dares to show their lives to the masses. This is only heightened in fear when corporations tighten their holds on younger individuals, crafting perfect products, immaculate businesspeople and yet, voids in their hearts. “Props to them. I—They really ran away. People think they are missing, but...do you think they really are missing or left to Barbados like they wanted to?”

“No way. They’ve been talking about leaving for the past few weeks and they said May was their month. Of course they’d leave now. It’s a plan.” Kihyun utters, intelligence in numbers clear as day as he rests his cheek against his palm, letting out a sigh. “...I wonder what that feels like.”

While opening the menu to read over the specials, she hums. “What?”

“Running away.”

“...You could never want such a thing, though.” She tells him, knowing him better than he could ever know himself. Though, he simply leans back on his seat, playing with the straw of his first drink before sighing.

“I know...” He trails and she knows there’s a counterpart to it. “But,” There it is, the initiation of a glimpse of Kihyun’s complicated mindset, yet so enticing. “It’s tiresome. This industry is only getting tougher, more sold, one day there won’t be a line between investments in technology, in music, in theater and plain out illegal stuff.” He answers, something in his eyes completely understandable to her. In this industry, people are obsessed with feeling...and with that, winning. To win, you have to take down any competition. “I don’t ever want to be part of that.”

She nudges his side with her body, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’ll never have to go through that.”

“I hope.” Kihyun breathes out before nodding her way. “Would you want to leave?”

It takes her two seconds. No, even less. She gives him an answer immediately. “Hell yeah.”

“That was quick.”

“It’s because I’ve always thought of it.”

“...I know like 97% of your personal life and I had never heard you say you want to leave.” He whispers close to her, tapping his fingers against the table in some rhythm that matches the song in the background. “Where is this coming from, in your case?”

“It’s more insecurity than anything,” And she is intelligent enough to realize this, pushing the menu down and standing up to go ask for her meal. Something greasy seems about right for this night, leaving her full and yet, satisfied. “I know I'm not...the typical investor. One, I’m a woman. Two, all the articles have dismissed me as one of the least interesting business owners. I’m never going to be one of the Thirty Under Thirty and—” It stings, it hurts, it makes her feel like there is something wrong with her, when in reality all the downsides are part of who she is. Young. A woman. Technically part of a family of interesting, immaculate individuals whom she has to compete with in order to stand out. “I would love to stop being compared to my cousins for a second. I’d love for magazines to stop using me as the stereotype of a successful, yet boring and bland woman on one of those articles of ‘10 ways you’re going to lose your man’ and...” She cuts herself off then, laughing when Kihyun starts to catch her humor. “Really, Kihyun, I’m the picture of the woman that appears on the third way or something. ‘You’re paying much attention to work and less to sex. He’ll get bored of you’. This bullshit of a society really gets me, because the public and our business-people are equally as draining, let me tell you.”

“Just, stop—” He chuckles, shaking his head along to her words. “You...okay, that’s not going to make you lose any man.”

“I’m not interested in who I lose,” She tells him, biting down on her bottom lip after shrugging. “I’m more of a ‘who-I-keep’ kind of person.”

“Bossy.”

“The boss, yes.” She replies, though she breaks character fairly soon. Why is it that there is always this voice biting at her life in the back of her head, telling her to stop pretending? “...Not that I’ll be at this point. My business is owned by four of our generation, my cousins and I and I am the fourth in line. If the other three die, I’ll take their spot.”

“If they don’t realize the gem you are business-wise, I support you completely in running away.” This is just a joke, after all, none of them would ever be able to leave this city, much less leave their businesses behind. They have families to make proud, friends to keep around, money to take care of and people with jobs to help out. They are far too busy to have the fantasy of a romantic vacation.

“Thank you.” Looking to the sides just in case anyone is watching—though, no one cares about others than the fan-based celebrities—, she leans forward to capture his lips in a brief, sweet, almost innocent kiss before smiling at him. “I’m thinking burgers for tonight.”

“It’s on me, then.”

💔

What does a president have to do with a singer? An actor with a robber? What connects the world in every stance of it?

Money.

Money does.

Mocked she feels like when she sits in the middle of this meeting room, people with suitcases and elegant clothing surrounding her, poison in their bloods as the thrive for money. She has been reached by this injection of power, a golden necklace hanging from her neck, resting upon the neckline of her black button down, half opened to give it a casual look. Her hands, obsessed with holding papers in between them to gain another eventful contract, are decorated in equally as golden rings. Everything about her speaks like a product, and it is the same getaway of her destructive mechanism.

Bad, how bad it is that the red lipstick on her only feels like a mask, how she pleads to the world to free her from the curse of money, crafted like a masterpiece, almost like a building that is still under construction. Money is what will burn her one day, and it starts with the simplistic title of betrayal. The people in said room are speaking about the loss of one of their sponsored individuals, exactly in the rap industry—Jooheon had signed his contract off with them, instead siding with Kihyun’s business, leaving them in absolute turmoil. It is easy to lose the youthful demographic if a rapper simply shrugs off some cars for a phone. It means their product, as known as it is, is just another line in the drawing that is the world of businesses.

Eyes are casted upon her, mostly her cousins’, as if glaring at her, knowing of her relationship with Kihyun, the silent love she exudes for the man, always talking about him like grace itself, as if the gods had put all the beauty and wellness of the world on his shoulders. Her long nails glide across the pictures of Jooheon’s appearance in Kihyun’s business new commercial and by her side, she sees the contract that had been signed off, the money he gave them back and for some reason, she swallows thickly.

“We need you to cut ties with Kihyun.” Her oldest cousin says, the first in line, her hair perfectly put-together even in such an early time in the morning. Something about her has always been scary, like she would never give anyone a smile, not even if there was a camera in front of her. “...I don’t want to keep going around the subject. He has only been using you to get closer to our clients and snatch them away.”

But that is impossible. It’s more possible for the sky to burn and dull its light than for Kihyun to even betray her. Poison doesn’t linger on his veins, but he is intelligent. Perhaps, this is just a movement of the bigger beings of his company, not exactly a family-based one, but one of those more experienced CEO’s that help him in bigger decisions. “I doubt he made that decision.” Her mind remains blank, however, trying to defend him in any way possible...but money could cut the fondest of bonds. “Kihyun has like five people before him in his company. I imagine they offered Jooheon more money, for instance, and since Jooheon wants to reach a youthful audience, it is easier to sell a phone than to sell a car—”

“But your job is to sell cars, to invest on them, to earn that money with hard work.” Her cousin continues, tilting her head to the side when she leans forward on the table. “Our sales dropped. We don’t care if Jooheon’s seventeen-year-old fans have money, we care about selling.”

“It’s not the most intelligent of business moves, actually. I told you so before.” She fights back, crossing one leg over the other as if to gain confidence. She doesn’t, almost suffocated under her cousin’s dark stare. “Jooheon may have enough money to buy a car, but we create sports cars. We don’t need Jooheon—”

“And Kihyun does?”

“Well, a phone is cheaper than a car.”

Her cousin releases a sigh, leaning her forehead against the table and pointing at one of her workers to speak for her. “Miss, we need you to cut ties with Kihyun. Sponsors and investors will be immensely turned off by our offers if we make them lose money.”

“We still have other sponsors in the celebrity industry, though.” She defends, knowing well that there is one person that keeps her same in the world of the movement of money. The only person that sees the fun in this superficial matter, whose movements are not always for socializing but rather to enjoy himself. “We have actor Lee Minho with us. He’s more of franchise, he is older than Jooheon, definitely richer, his fans are older as well...”

Her oldest cousin lifts her body up at that, fingertips wrapping around her hair to keep the strands up and away. However, her frustration is voiced out by the third in line, always sweeter than the boss of the cousins. “Kihyun knew about this,” She starts. “And everyone is aware of your friendship. Paparazzi, socialites, the world knows you two get along well, but we just need a headline.”

“Headline?” Confusion takes over her, folding her hands over her lap, playing with the edge of her shirt. Everything about her life has always been so expensive, so crafted, and seeing the only real thing that stays being pushed away and out of her life is a trigger.

“What she is trying to say.” Her third cousin points towards the first cousin in line for the car company. “She’s meaning to tell you that we need to paint Kihyun as the bad guy. His reputation being tainted by us, using your friendship with him, painting him as a betrayer will only work to our favor. Just imagine it.” She utters, a smile grazing her features, yet it speaks about everything rather than comfort. “Yoo Kihyun’s new personality. Hindsight from our favorite cousins about how the phone-company owner betrayed one of his friends to get to the top.”

Sickening, it feels like, to dress on money-coated clothes, to have all the gold in the world and all the space to live in, even going as far as a spot to die in...and yet, still feel so lonely, so misunderstood. This is the corporation part, the obnoxiously painful part of it all that speaks about stepping harder than others—a dance of flamenco, worth of being applauded thanks to its artistry excellence...significative in the horrendousness of life. “I’m not going to do that.”

“...Then, watch millions burn in the air, people losing their jobs because of you.” The oldest cousin says once again, leaving a bitter taste of her mouth and, for a moment, it’s difficult to even swallow.

“It’s not going to get that far.”

“How do you know?”

“I—Listen, it’s impossible. Jooheon is not an influence to the entire world, it’s the 90’s, there is a solution to this.” She responds, standing up from her spot and running her hands over the expanse of her abdomen, wanting to smooth the fabric there. “What’s with all the money-talk now? We have been doing excellently this year, don’t worry.”

The leader cousin ignores her, crossing her arms over her chest to highlight her poised stance. “I’ll worry. This is the business train, you either get on it or you don’t.”

At the time, she couldn’t come up with a proper response. She was scared. Now, laying down on a hotel bed whilst hoping no paparazzi caught her trace, she thinks of a million outcomes.

How not to feel powerful when he is by her side? In this hotel, like they have always belonged somewhere and it is with the other. Truthfully, Kihyun is not simply just any man, which is why it is not difficult for him to make fire out of water, to turn tears into laughter, into passion, absolute tranquility with this burning, heated desire to be stronger. Miniscule beings do not exist in Kihyun’s language and though his height is something people mock him for, he finds his strength as a person to be gigantic. That is...until someone tears him to shreds.

Kihyun is not only the man that has glided his hands across the skin of her thighs in search for her heart. He is not only a scientist that has played with the hormones of love in order to get her tranced. He’s not only a coworker, of sorts, a man that knows the life she lives—Kihyun is that one guy who has seen her bare, not only in body but in soul, the one person that understands she will never be part of this life. She loves the money, the pleasantries, the feeling of leather on the back of her thighs as long as she is not wearing a skirt...and he opens her mind to new hindsights. Technology is not at its peak, but once it is, she’ll be happy to be part of this revolutionary stance.

“I am scared,” She admits, playing with his hands that rest on her abdomen and lord, how stupid it is that she wishes—for now—that Kihyun would hold a ring on his finger that would claim him as hers, even just a piece of him. She wants to be a bond to bound there, a connection that makes this feel more believable to her cousins. All the anxiety of being part of the famous world, as often as she gets compared to others, has only been heard by him. “They told me I had to come up with some drama between us this week. If not, they are just telling the world. I have no say in what comes next.”

“Fuck.” Kihyun breathes out, sitting up on the bed before turning to look at her. “Money is really out here to destroy humanity, isn’t it?”

She squints her eyes at that, staring ahead while lost in her thoughts. “I wish I could be stronger than money.”

“You are to me.” He says, pressing a fleeting kiss to her lips to get her back to reality. “Even if you want, you’ll never be quite as toxic and powerful as money.”

“You like money...and you like me, what’s the difference?”

Kihyun’s lips quirk up at that, bad in the good, looking like a dream, even when the golden lights of the hotel help him achieve that look. Or is it the love she feels for him? Though not unrequited, also not voiced out. “...It’s different, I don’t know how, but it is. I know you won’t kill me in the end, for one.” He tells her, pushing the covers off his body before extending his hands. “God, I wish...I wish we could do something.”

“You know, it would be amazing to pick up our bags and leave somewhere. Somewhere we can be...you know, young, like we have to be.” She pushes, sitting up with excitement on the bed. Her eyes are glistening, almost white, like the thirst for money is now craving freedom. “We’d be able to have all the facilities...but it would hurt them. It would remind my cousins and your upper businessmen that we are worth it, we are not some youth call for magazines to talk about. We aren’t based on predictions—”

Kihyun runs his fingers through his damp hair, the shower he took just a few minutes ago memory of how he was not alone in there, either. Something about him is complicated now, almost unreachable. “You want to run away?”

“Why not?” She asks, shrugging her shoulders with a soft smile on her face. “I want to feel like I am not a product to consume for once.”

“...It sounds insane.” Kihyun shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest while deep in thought. “We have worked so hard to be part of corporations. Now we want to be freed from just that.”

“We are not as important as them, Kihyun!” She exclaims, an ironic smile on her features. Money, money, everyone wants it, to the point lust could never compare to power money has. It causes wars, fights, divorces, it leaves families alone and friendships asking for help. Money gives materialistic things, fakes to be your friend until it kills you. If the paper-money could smile, it would, all those dead figures of history giving their souls to immortality all in the name of money. Oh, what a fake pride, money speaks more than any mystical being could. “We will be trashed if...we give them time. It’s so scary, I have also given my life away for this.” Her breathing quickens at that. “We have so much money to spend, to save, to use to live...why don’t we show it ho much we don’t care about it?”

“We do care about it, though. It’s all we have known.” He argues with her, though softly, knowing that they were both raised in extremely wealthy families, counting paper from the moment they were children. “Leaving that behind is difficult. Once we run out of money, it’s over.”

“We just have to be mindful of it. Our life is not over if we just have a bit less.” She tells him, jumping a bit on the bed, mattress wiggling under her weight. “Imagine how beautiful it would be! We’d finally have heaven on Earth, we’ll be stronger than we have ever been!” She doesn’t realize power is speaking here, the strength of love and admiration for the person in front of her—the same one who could leave her side if only the fake news her cousins are planning do get out. They will if she doesn’t try. “You have said before that you would love to run away.”

“For a week or two, not my entire life.” Kihyun whispers, biting down on his bottom lip before clearing his throat. “Though, I’ll have to disappear from your life if your cousins go through with their plan.”

When nearing him, she opens the gates of heaven to him, resting her hands over his shoulders and searching for his face. After all, she wants him, but she doesn’t want to make him miserable just to make herself happy. “Hey...even if I leave, you don’t have to leave with me. I’m just saying...since we are both involved in this, we could leave for a while and live off our own money. Even...the company’s, but that is if we’re looking for revenge and being criminals.” She tries to make him laugh, a brief breathy chuckle released from his lips.

“Do you have a place in mine?”

“...I want to go big.” She replies, fluttering her eyelashes almost romantically. “But it’s up to you to follow me or not. Really, I won’t get mad.”

“I could try it out for a few weeks.” Kihyun answers, almost tranced by the idea of not caring of the world that surrounds him for a second. Egotistic, partially the benefits of being rich, the priviledge clouding all their judgement. “Let’s take a flight after this. Let’s leave.”

She gasps at that, almost a bit dramatically, but hearing that from Kihyun means business. It means certainty. “Are you serious? Are we really leaving?”

“For a bit. Just that. Let’s see how we do being irreponsible for once.” He replies, staring at her eyes for a second before grabbing her cheek and pinching it delicately. “If I try this, I want it to be with you.”

Money doesn’t matter, burn it all, if that means having Kihyun there for her.

What an atrocious mentality.

💔

It glistens under the lights of the night, passing through the windows of a taxi, yellow, bright, like the start of their first night finally being free. The previous one had consisted of sleeping, giggly after a late-night conversation, jet-lagged and confused as to where they stand, where they live, what they have done with nothing left behind, other than some of their material beings—parts of them that they can earn back. She has never felt quite as close to Kihyun as she is now, with his legs parted, dark and ripped jeans perfect for their night out, hand resting on top of her thigh, like he always has to make sure he is by her side. His face looks tranquil when she shows him her black credit card, almost at ease, because this is what they are used to: runaways and yet so fitting into the rich world.

Living with Kihyun seems to be easy now, like any demon has cleared the world for it to leave in peace, the upbeat tone of  Snoop Dogg song playing in the background, legs crossed over the other to showcase her pretty yellow dress, not snug but still loose enough for it to feel free. This is what they finally are, god, it’s such a beautiful word to say. Free, like birds. Free, like a song. Free, free, free.

“With this, we’re going to give Tommy a visit.” She speaks softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her air just in time to have Kihyun laughing at her antics. “What? It’s our first night here...and we can spend our money whichever way we want. Let’s bu Carolina Herrera perfumes, and Tommy Hilfiger clothes. Let’s ask for a Ferrari and compete against my own company. Let’s—” Her fingertips wrap around his phone, the one that rests on his bag stupidly, big and blocky. “Let’s get rid of your brand. Nokia sounds about right, trendy even.”

Kihyun’s eyebrows quirk up at that, taking the card from her hands and she imagines him that he is going to say it is alright. After all, Kihyun lives for his own will and if she had been powerful enough to get him to agree to running away from their businesses without saying any word, now staying at another country, she feels like she can get him to spend some...thousands. “Or, we could actually think about what we are spending. Uh, less Nokia and—”

“You are just scared of using Nokia.”

“Are you down to driving a Ferrari?”

“I mean...the leather is terrible,” She answers, scrunching up her nose before laughing. “But we are here to make fun of our brands, labels, whatever has kept us back.” His chapped lips purse up at that, making her sigh when she interlocks their hands together, taking the one that rested on her thigh. They may be friends with benefits, but she is his friend over anything, she knows him better than she likes to admit. “Cheap leather isn’t going to stop me from feeling...like money doesn’t define me.”

“By using money?” Kihyun asks. “I don’t know...I am used to...you know, being a product. Whatever happens after I buy a Nokia will probably ruin my life.” He chuckles, finding amusing the spot he is in right now. “Nokia don’t have as good signal as we do.”

Trailing her eyes up and down his small nose, his perfect lips and his bright eyes, she feels like living this night up as the driver takes them to the best and most expensives stores for them to feel like they have forever to live. “The only person I care to call is you, though.”

“...Huh, you know I don’t like it when you become cheesy.” Kihyun mumbles, letting his fingers fix her hair before huffing against her lips. He wouldn’t kiss her, not here, not when they finally have each other completely. “So, you want us to buy Tommy Hilfiger clothes, get out of here with a Ferrari, use Nokia’s to call people...who we should not even be calling when we’re running away?” She nods her head.

“I’m here for a good time, not a smart one. I have plenty of those.”

“What’s next? We’re going to have Jay Z perform for us personally?”

“Not a bad idea,” She points out, wriggling her finger and laughing when she turns to look at the city lights. In such a city, they are so small, they do not matter all that much, much less do they belong to an elite that will put pressure over them. They are a duo, the high-budget but still endlessly uncomparable Bonnie and Clyde. No one cares about them here, much less do they care about their power. They are only more rich people in between the rich, a necklace in between diamonds, heels in between boots. What else could be better?

“Everything is so pretty here.” Kihyun says, pressing his back to her side when he leans forward, her gaze turning back to see the moving lights on his skin, all cause of the motion.

“Yeah...” What is more beautiful, the tall buildings, electric city-life, the bustle of the individuals walking and talking and enjoying music, or the man by her side, trusty enough to leave everything behind—at least momentarily, just for her—. “You really are beautiful.”

Kihyun’s eyes look down at that, inspecting her face before pressing his lips together. “Thank you.”

“I’ve been told I’m pretty good-looking myself.” There she is, seeking for a compliment out of the half-cold, half-warm man.

Lukewarm, yes, that is his word. Common just doesn’t do it for him, like he wants it all but none at the same time. Bubbling inside her body, like champagne of the richest sellers, is the love that could only explode all over the place if she let it. For now, she keeps it hidden...it’s all about enjoying the night, living as they wish. “...You are gorgeous, not only good looking.”

“I’m not even going to say thank you because I knew that.” She jokes, placing a kiss on the juncture of his neck, right above his yugular, smelling the Calvin Klein cologne—or is it Polo Sport?

Her body almost falls to the pavement once the car comes to a halt, Kihyun’s fingers hooking on the handle of the door to open it, catching her by the waist just before falling. “Alright, let’s start this night.”

She’ll remember this night ten years from now, twenty years after as well, when her card had glided across with such ease and such carelessness that she had felt stronger than the leashes that had kept her in place in the past. A palace, they created, in such a big decision of leaving, following the noise of the city and getting lost in the complexity of it all. His smile is palpable, picking up the biggest of coats, wearing it over his body in a fashionable way, taking too many rings to ever fit on their fingers and still, wearing them. Feeding the nostalgia with lollipop rings and hair bleach they promise to use sooner than later, matching terrible hairstyles if they dare and please.

That is the easiest part of the night, deepening when they really do live up to that promise of buying a Nokia and for some reason, she does acquire the red car that she would have never thought of having. Kihyun’s hands always gravitate towards her waist, but why does gravity exist when he makes her feel like she is flying? His breathing on her body adrenaline in its purest form, even more so when he is the driver of their new car, windows rolled down and the wind blowing on his already untamed hair, elbow resting on the door, his fingertips resting on his cheek while they speak. She can’t tear her gaze away from him, such a dream with music playing in the background, phenomenon after phenomenon making her happier.

“We could get used to this.” She tells him, getting a hum from him when she extends her legs, trying to ease the ache on them after walking for so long. “Don’t you agree?”

“This is the most fun I’ve had in awhile, yes.” Kihyun answers another question before quirking an eyebrow. “But I’m not sure if we can have fun forever.”

“Why not?!” She exclaims, jumping a bit on her seat before smiling. “We’ll fight against the world. Who even needs us in the capitalist world? We’re one of many.”

“We’re only fueling capitalism with this.” Kihyun tuts, her hand colliding against his thigh in a small smack.

“But we’re more than it.”

“How so?”

“Unlike other people, we’re having fun with money. We’re not competing, we are living.” His eyes gleam at that, sparing her a glance and then releasing a soft chuckle.

“We’ll try to make this last, then. Our forever, let’s call it.”

In moments like these, youth doesn’t know better, which is why she wraps her lips around the world romantically. “Yes, our forever.” She tells him, only to grasp on the skin of his thigh. “But we won’t last forever if I let you keep driving. You’re not that good”

“I got my driver’s license in a cereal box. Let me do my thing.” Kihyun replies, though she watches him get ready to park the car and give it to her.

The night is not even close to being finished to them, but they don’t have to think about the concept of time anymore...at least, not for now.

Not for their forever.

💔

The expanse of Kihyun’s body is all she feels, the bass of the song in the background a mix in between a club banger and one of those misfits in the music industry, that is not as scene-changing as the feeling of freedom she gets with him. He feels expensive, from the small protruding veins on his skin, mostly on his arms when she twirls around on his arms, her back pressed to his chest, arms wrapped around her waist, his smile pressed to her shoulder like when he is trying to hide his smile—he’s happy, she can tell, the millionare house they had invested in suddenly feeling cramped when his body is so close, the necklace around his neck digging in her nape, his sin in contact with hers by the deep neck of his button down.

Buying a house a week after their departure from their real life seemed like a step closer to normality, a freak show the more they enter their lives into this. Not a smoker, much less a junkie, she still feels tranced in this faux sense of reality they have created. The comfort of waking up to him is far too intoxicating, sharing books and ideas, thinking about the future in just enjoying it, not necessarily working for it. They are privileged, yes, she knows this fairly well but she’s taking the reigns of it. Kihyun’s marks around his face have smoothened, like he is much more tranquil. Sometimes, his smile first thing in the morning makes her feel like there is a moment now for them to fall in love.

Or they may be in love already.

Interlocking their fingers together, she swings while getting closer to him, bodies snug together like they never belonged to separate worlds. She tilts her head slightly, to the point their eyes connect just in time for her to send a remark his way. “It’s been a while since we’ve danced together.”

Bringing his bottle of beer up his lips, he takes a small swing before smiling. “I remember the first time I asked you to dance,” He tells her, placing the bottle down on the coffee table without letting go of her body, their bodies bending slightly, but his arms are once again around her waist, hands one in essence. “You were shy.”

“You’re just a good dancer. I thought: ‘So, this guy is giving me the time of the day and making me look like a fool while at it, interesting.’”

He hums, placing a kiss to her cheek just in time to heighten the feelings around her body. The dull Kihyun is fire in these moments, when he knows exactly what he is doing, like a seductive part of life—he’s the most exquisite of places and she wants to make him home. Money, fame, sex, it all matters less when Yoo Kihyun exists in this world. “You’re such a people-pleaser, you know exactly what to say and when.” He whispers before twisting her around and looking into her eyes, face flushed with a faint glow, a little bit of oils and that blush that she loves being part of. “That was so many years ago. Like three years? I was so nervous, too. You were such a badass.”

“Were?”

“Are, actually. You got me to run away from my world, convinced me in some way or another, and that’s impressive.” Kihyun tells her, bottom lip stuck in between his teeth when he bites down on it, hands making a trip out of her curves when he hugs her tightly, her own hands resting on his chest, seeking for his quickened heart.

“I’ve been having the best time of my life.” She confesses, all love confessions and adoration while Kihyun is much more silent in that sense. His body pulls away from hers, a small stop sign appearing on her heart when he reaches for his backpack, taking out his beloved camera before swinging it in the air softly.

“Let’s remember it. Come on, I want to take pictures of you.”

She chuckles at that, covering her face when he points his camera at her, taking a seat on the couch with his legs parted, looking way longer than they actually are. Something about him is more relaxed, as if she finally meets the real version of Kihyun—the one that doesn’t think so much about his future and just enjoys the now. “I look like a mess, Kihyun. Come on, don’t.” The idea of her mismatched satin bathrobe in a beige color and her purple pajamas in the same material being caught on camera is not so pleasing, but Kihyun shakes his head.

“Uncover your face. You look pretty. Besides, I want cute pictures of you.”

“Kihyun—”

“Please?” His eyebrows knit together at that, making her heart sing a lullaby to its left ventricle, pumping blood faster than she could ever imagine, heart picking up its pace. She sighs, dropping her bathrobe down her shoulders slightly, half-off and turning around, covering half of her face with a peace sign and her shoulder covering a small chunk of her face. “Wow, you can see so much of yourself in this picture.” His sarcasm is clear on his voice and she sighs, half-laughing at his words.

“Alright, I’ll drop my hand.” She rests her hands in front of her, looking into the camera and hearing the flash going off. “This reminds me of paparazzi.”

“Don’t compare me to those lifeless guys.” He adds, looking down at the camera and taking pictures as she gets closer to him. “They will rip the life out of anyone. They’re zombies, sort of.”

But the light of him, his life, is coming back to him. She realizes this when she takes a seat on his lap, grasping his face on her hands and feeling the camera rest in between their bodies. Before, they were too busy to say the things that are important...but now, in this secluded mansion, they have all the time in the world to make another friend fall in love. “They’ll never dull you, Kihyun. They won’t reach us here.” This power they swear they have blinded them to the world that lived out there, much more when his hands expand over her pajama bottoms, caressing the skin of her hips before leaning forward and capturing a kiss from her lips, like the flicker of a camera that catches her off guard.

His rosy and thin lips glide across hers, deepening the kiss when she runs her fingertips through the strands of black hair. “Thank you for lying to me.” She swears she hears him say, but she can’t quite make out the sentence because she leans forward to kiss him again. They want to feel alive, but every fire needs to be dulled down at some point before it burns it all.

💔

Each day, something new is born. An invention, a feeling, a person. Also, something dies—faith, for example, is the most often left behind sentiment. Currently, no one needs it...or so people claim. They only need to feel alive, they don’t need promises of a tomorrow or the day after that, or so she had thought in the past. She is relishing in the feeling of not having achy eyes in the early mornings, of having less coffee and more memories to cling into, of feeling like the owner of her world with no responsibilities whatsoever. She isn’t thinking straight, she calls herself out at times, but whenever she wakes up to the sight of Kihyun, she feels like she is not alone in this. Thus, not entirely lost, as well.

The morning for them includes slices of a vintage cake they had bought the previous night from a small business, the red and yellow colors brightening their day with the sweetness of the treet, paired up with lattes and the TV playing in the background. The counters are still squeaky clean, for she has more time to take care of cleaning now that she doesn’t have to worry about thousands of workers around the continent. For, it’s easy for her to rest her knees on the seat, elbows propped on the island in order to watch the block-like TV with more precision.

On the other end of the island, Kihyun seems to be far more stressed, though he does not move. His hand remains wrapped around the handle of his mug, hair thrown everywhere in his style, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down after swallowing harshly, eyes trained into the TV as well. She sees all the love and peacefulness leaving him the more they hear the news...because they are in them. Two socialites, two business-people, runaways of society that are apparently ‘missing’ according to this news outlet.

“The second victim goes by the name of Yoo Kihyun, co-owner of Jung’s Phone Company, who was last seen with his well known friend getting out of some hotel together. The family of the young man has been looking for him—” She reaches for the remote then, muting the screen in no time before standing up from her spot and staying in the way of the TV, earning a scowl from Kihyun almost immediately.

“Get away.”

“Kihyun, don’t listen to that. We’re—”

“We’re running away from our families, our friends, people that care about us! Don’t you hear that?!” Kihyun tells her loudly, something triggering inside him, frowning deeply when he scratches his head, rubbing his face soon after when wrinkles form on his forehead. “We have worried people. Whether you want to accept it or not, this is highly egotistical. I said a few weeks of this and it has gotten out of control.”

She lowers her shoulders at that, walking forward until she is standing on one end of the island while he is seated on the other. “Kihyun, this wasn’t only my decision. Rise and shine, sunshine, we have done this together.” She tells him, voice filled with pettiness as she crosses her arms over her chest. “We have been happy. Minutes ago you were happy, don’t paint me as the one that was egoistic.”

“I am not saying that.” Kihyun finishes, licking the corner of his mouth and trying to look over her sholder to see what the news is announcing. “Just—Let me look.”

“We can just call our families and tell them we’re here. I don’t see why you’re so bothered.”

“Because we have to go back, that’s it.” Kihyun says, taking a long gulp of his coffee, probably burning his tongue along the way. He hisses soon after, cause of the warmth of his drink. “You don’t get it? The police are involved in this. We have responsibilities and if we dare tell our families, just like that, that we are staying here  because we want to be irresponsible, we will be painted to the media like two slackers.”

What had gone wrong? She doesn’t know, the weapon of love is now held against her, perhaps a grenade or a gun, she is unsure. Everything he says just sounds so reasonable, yet like a stab to her back. Perhaps, he had not enjoyed himself quite as much as she did—maybe his forever is not ever going to be actually an union. “Is that what you think we have been doing? Slacking? Kihyun, we have lived—”

“Living life doesn’t mean ou get to avoid responsibilities.” Kihyun counterparts, making her chuckle sarcastically, parting her lips soon after to speak to him.

“Are you meaning to call me irresponsible?”

What a terrible poem, so distasteful in the mouth, to listen about their love story being destroyed by none other than the media. What they had avoided had reached them easily, as if the fire in beween them could always die down with water. “Let’s calm down.”

“No,” She answers. “I’m not dumb, I’m not numb. I know what I’m doing. Unlike you, I don’t care about a business if I’m going to be exploited by the media. Look how many celebrities don’t want to be part of this. We are rich, that doesn’t mean we are happy!”

“Which is why we should look for happiness in work!”

“Well, I thought I could seek happiness in you.” The wrongest decision she could have ever made, she realizes, because Kihyun was never a certainty, much less he meant the forever he was claming to ahve. A forever with different stand-points, knowing that they were never going to want the same thing for long periods of time. There is a reason why they always remained friends with benefits and never a couple they had become. “You know what? Make your fucking decision. I’ll be in the guest’s room when you sort yourself out. Unlike you, if I start something, I finish it.”

And for the entirety of the afternoon, the night, even the midnight, she expects to shed tears, to dry herself out of sadness...but she knows better than doing that. Yoo Kihyun was always a businessman, always the man in the back of every picture of socialites, too responsible to ever follow his heart...and she loved him for that.

It only so happened that he broke her heart with the main reason why she had fallen in love with him.

💔

They teach you money will save you, but it never does.

They never told her the peak of the morning is just as healing, that the moment in which the sun is too dark to shine to its fullest potential is when she will feel the most empowered. In the faint distance, she swears she can see outlines of birds, of planes, of the mix between nature and complete humanity. While seated on that couch, in and out of sleep, stuck in the guest’s room, she wonders what her road will look like. She wants freedom and she knows she wasn’t happy before, but she is not sure what will be her north, her passion, the reason she will wake up every day with the need to pull herself back up. That should never be another person, and for that Kihyun is right.

What Kihyun doesn’t remember is that they had always spoken about a moment like this, as well, that their future was always left for a later...and while trying to live a forever, they discovered nothings lasts a lifetime. For moments like these, she prays for time to go back, for the threads to be sewn back together to create a warm blanket to cover her in the middle of this coldness. She hears him around the house and part of her wishes he enters that guest room, he never does, the stars going up, going down, now merging into the morning after endless hours of being in and out of sleep, of snacking in whatever she finds in that room...of promising herself that this is a nightmare.

Why is it that each time she wakes up he is still leaving?

Part of her wished for him to leave silently, for her to be asleep when he closed the door a final time and left the town by plane, putting away every thought of unconditional love. But Kihyun is not this type of person, not necessarily career driven, but also not given to love entirely. Kihyun knows balance...and maybe that is something she should study, not letting go of the leash completely but also not keeping herself trapped. It’s difficult to do that when she had painted a love glistening in the dark, only to be left alone with a sun that would never shine quite as bright again.

She prays that sun does remember its beauty. She prays that this is the lowest point she can reach before lifting herself up again.

Hopeless she is when she hears the door opening and unlike her old mansion, it could have been a worker—a cleaner, her assistant, even her manager, but right now it could only be Kihyun. Her heartbeat slows down at that moment, because even after everything he is still her comfort, but it doesn’t relax her to hear the rolling of wheels in his luggage, his voice getting clearer when he utters her name out.

It breaks her because she has heard her name being called thousands of ways, but never quite like this, like this is the sweetest of goodbyes. Bittersweet, she’d call it. She brings her knees up her chest, looking out the window and staring at the city, still lighted down, and she can’t even bring herself to look at him when he takes the seat beside her in that couch, his eyes trained on her.

“I knew you’d leave,” She whispers, trying to keep her voice levelled though it’s extremel difficult to do so, closing her eyes to stop the headache that comes with a bad night of sleep. Maybe, she is hurting, as well. Is she losing a friend, apart from a lover? “I should have known, any day and everyday, that I was delusional for thinking we had a future. Much less one like this.”

“I’m doing it for me.” He tells her, trying to look into her eyes, but she keeps them closed. She knows she’ll ask him to stay if she looks into his eyes. The stars are falling down, but the sun is not going up. This is the first and last time he breaks her heart. “I have responsibilities, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry—”

“But I am.”

“I know, but don’t say it.” She opens her eyes, looking out the window and letting out a soft sigh. She presses her fingers to her temples, catching the attention of Kihyun.

“Do you want me to get you an aspirin?”

“No.” Though, she misses the usual ‘thank you’ she would have said otherwise. “If you’re going to leave, just leave now.”

The feeling of his clothes rustling against the sofa is heard around the room, too loud to be bearable, his body bringing itself up until his lips hover over her temple, trying to kiss it but she pulls away from him, as if electricity goes through them. Her body protects itself with her arms wrapped around it, shaking her head just in time to hear him say: “I’m sorry, I love you. I mean it, I really love you.”

Some people never prepare you for the better-off goodbyes, and she knows she would never have been ready for the silence that continued soon after, because she was unable to tell Kihyun what she really felt. She loved him, endlessly, more than the zeroes in her bank account, more than a house could ever cost, more than any contract she ever signed. He probably knew this, he’s intelligent, but she never got to say it...much less when Kihyun whispers his goodbyes and leaves with that damned rolling of wheels against the tiles, all coming from his luggage.

One of those planes in the sky will welcome the man that broke her heart and once he gets back, he’ll tell her cousins where she is. That, however, couldn’t hurt as much as a broken romance that comes with the realization that enjoyment can only last so long before it becomes an addiction.

Still, there is love in the darkness of the sun...and she’ll find it beneath herself. In some place in this new town, she’ll find a new business to construct, a name to be remembered once she finishes. Smiles will make their way back to her, tomorrow or the day after that. Quick, it will heal her, she proclaims.

Faster than Kihyun leaving her, though she wishes him well.

[fornaxvoid]

Fornax Void Update Spring 2019

Hey everyone,

In recent months I may have seemed kind of inactive, which led to a few requests about what I'm up to. I thought I might write a little update on what is going on:

For the most part I'm working on cleaning up my Album 'Cyberspace Database'. As I plan to release the Album on physical media this year (coupled with new videos), I want to refresh the mixes, and create consistent masters of all the tracks. This created the need to migrate my DAW to a computer with higher performance.

Making archival backups of all the data, migrating DAW to computer with more performance, upgrading Operating System, getting latest Cubase etc.

This took some time and the according purchases (HDDs, SSDs, Cubase License etc.) created Budget problems. I started doing more commissions and decided to sell all hardware synths except a handful of favorites - generally reducing clutter in my workspace, by selling stuff. This resulted in additional logistical, and administrational efforts: sampling all the synths, especially recording samples of important personal patches, creating online auctions, packing up things and hauling them to the post office etc. This process is not yet finished and will take up a couple more weeks. 

Basically, I'm cleaning up and refreshing things, to wrap up my work of the last few years in a well rounded way.

For fun, I created a list of the synths I sold or kept, with statements on why and mentions of a couple of tracks they were used on:

Kept:

Roland JV-2080 – While I got to recap all the upgrade cards of this thing, the device is extremely convenient to program, full of sounds I love to create patches with and 8 * multi-timbral. Used on Borlando Loom, Cyberspace Database and many other tracks.

Akai S3000XL – One of the classic, defining samplers of the 90s. Easy to use, multi-timbral, 32-voice polyphony. Used on Void Gate Access Software and Void Gate Panorama Station.

Korg WaveStation A/D – Lots of waveforms, multi-timbral. The unorthodox sound engine and the menu design make it a bit of a headache to program. Despite the large display, accessing it's capabilities is time consuming. The menu has some graphic capabilities beyond text, but it is not as intuitive feeling as the menus of the JV-2080 or the S3000XL. Used on Cyborg Samurai Miyamoto, Soyokaze Suteshon 199X, Void Gate Panorama Station and other tracks.

Yamaha PSS-480 – My first synth, I got as a kid. Also one of my favorite FM synths. Programmable 2-OP FM with MIDI. Used on Void Gate Access Software, Void Gate Panorama Station and other tracks.

Reckless Experimentation Audio LLC YM3812 – Like an Adlib Soundcard in a box, but better. Great, programmable, multi-timbral FM synth module with MIDI, based on the legendary OPL2 chip. Used on: Topographic Multiplexer and other tracks.

Commodore 64 + MSSIAH Cartridge – great 3-part / 3-voice synth and wave player / sampler software for the C64. Used on Offshore Network Vertex, Void Gate Access Software, Hexadecimal Love Letters and other tracks.

Wayfar MIDI NES Cartridge – Interesting thing. Don't use it much, but doesn't take up much space. Used on: Void Gate Access Software

Sold:

Roland D-05 – Generally liked this synths sound, but its inconvenient to program, filters don't work on PCM waveforms, lacks multi-timbrality and no proper outputs. Used on Super Aliasing and other tracks.

Roland TB-03 – Sounds pretty nice, easy to program, but lacks proper outputs. I used this as a harp-like instrument in the end of Void Gate Access Software.

Akai S1000 – Wonderful sounding sampler, but is 1U bigger, has less RAM, half the polyphony probably sells better than the than S3000XL. Used on Void Gate Access Software and Void Gate Panorama Station.

Oberheim Xpander – A really nice instrument, I spent lot of time with, but always made me feel uneasy owning. Expensive, old, analog synths always come with the risk that something breaks. Used on: Ancient Data Tapes, Oberheim Taxi Shagnhai Xpander, Server Room Love Letters,  Affinity, Infinity, Protorezoic Ocean, Hexadecimal Love Letters, Offshore Network Vertex, Cyborg Samurai Miyamoto, and many more tracks.

Korg M1R – A great sounding, multi-timbral classic, but while not too complicated, still inconvenient to program, because of it's small display. Also, the Plugin version of it, sounds really good, comes with a great sound library that is well-structured and is more convenient to program. Used on Offshore Network Vertex and a few other tracks but more of the M1 sounds on the album actually stem from the M1 Legacy Plugin.

Korg Volca Beats – Cool device, easy to use, but lacks proper outputs. Used on Offshore Network Vertex and Void Gate Access Software.

Korg Poly 800 II – One of my first hardware synths. Found this for cheap in a thrift-store almost a decade ago. Nice retro sounds. Not pleasant to program, chewy buttons, archaic digital menu. My album Tomes of Erebus was for big parts made on this one. Also used on Void gate Access Software and other tracks.

Casio CZ-5000 – Never really used much but the same, particular self-made patch on this synth (now thoroughly sampled). Used on Cyborg Samurai Miyamoto and a few other tracks.

Yamaha PSR-47 – Non-programmable Keyboard with lots of presets, some of them good. Has MIDI. Used on Screensaver Library. Used on Offshore Network Vertex and other tracks.

Yamaha PSR-60 – Not so fun, non-programmable FM based keyboard thing with MIDI. Used on Screensaver Library.

Yamaha Reface DX – Great sounding 4-OP FM synth, easy to program, proper MIDI and outputs, good keyboard, but that part of the menu is solved with touch controls always annoyed me. Used on Void Gate Access Software, Void Gate Panorama Station and other tracks.

Yamaha Reface CS – Interesting synth, proper outputs and MIDI, lots of sound capabilities, slightly too clean sounding. Sounded great when sampled through Akai S1000. Used on Hexadecimal Love Letters and some other tracks.

Yamaha DX21 – Nice 4-OP FM synth from the era of the DX7. In theory an easy synth, but the small, non-backlit display and the very archaic menu qualities make it annoying to program. Main synth on Wintermute and Personal System/2. Used on a few other tracks too.

Yamaha FB-01 – Interesting multi-timbral FM synth. Patches can not be programmed on-device and is ultimately too generic sounding to keep, compared to YM3812 or PSS-480. Used on Wintermute, Voidnet Online Service Provider and other tracks.

Yamaha TG33 – Interesting synth. Similar to the Roland D-05 / D-50 but FM / PCM based. Kinda headache inducing menus. When weighing up accessibility to sound-capabilities it lost out. Used on: Void Gate Access Software and a few other tracks.

Arturia Miniburte – Great monophonic analog synth. Nice for deep sounds. Used on many tracks. Didn't really fit into the concept of my next setup. Used on Offshore Network Vertex, Void Gate Access Software, Void Gate Panorama Station, Hexadecimal Love Letters and other tracks.

Waldorf Rocket – Interesting synth. Mostly used it for filtering external signals through it's analog filter. Used on: Illustrated History of Nature, Voidnet Online Service Provider, Void Gate Panorama Station and other tracks.

Roland U-110 – PCM sound module. Some nice sounds. Used on PCM Sound Module U-110 and some other tracks.

Conclusion: Most synths I'm keeping are digital, rack-mounted, multi-timbral, 90s devices or some kind of semi-unusual retro computing related thing, reducing the tools to a core-palette of things I really like, for future projects.

Well, that's it for now. An update on current Fornax Void activities. I hope there is some useful info in there for some of you. Will be back with more updates.

Best Regards, Fornax Void

2019-APRIL-22, 20:15, 1555956900

[ad-renalyn]

Possibilities

Chapter 4: Keys

Chapter [1, 2, 3] 

A/N: more of Luka x Reader interaction! Kagami introductory and a bit of our marshmallow blonde boy <3 

It’s been 9 years since you were taken in by the Couffaines’ for a month. There has been a great deal of change since then, though that significant month became the most eventful time in your life.

During that one month, celebrating what suppose to be your special day at a funeral was unexpected. It was glum, silence was deafening but the Couffaines and your parents friends were present, everyone expressing their condolences. All the while Luka was there comforting you, in fact ever since you opened up to him about the accident one night, he became protective and supportive of you.

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~

Dark clouds coupled with strong winds started rolling in during the day, alarmed, you kept checking the weather out the window hoping it would get better.

“Hey, you alright?” Luka questioned, not looking away from the screen as he continue to fumble with the controller.

“Mhm…just thinking it's gonna be bad tonight” You said, hugging your knees against your chest.

He replied with a hum focusing back on his game, you shook your head trying to keep anxiety at bay, continuing to watch Luka playing his game to distract yourself. Night-time arrived and you start to feeling restless noticing that it only got worse, you let out a sigh heading up to your shared room paying no mind to Luka who’s playing with boxer on the couch, missing the concerned glance he gave you as you walk pass them.

There are things that you didn't like growing up like Brussels sprouts, bugs, clowns and many more. One of them being thunder and lightning, unfortunately for you that seems to be what the world has to offer tonight.

You accidentally slam the door shut in panic, making Luka get up from his seat to go to you. You made sure the windows were tightly shut close, the blinds pulled down along with the heavy curtains over it. You took Luka’s headphones from his desk and put it on before hopping on the bed and wrapping yourself in the blanket, not caring that the headphones are not plugged on any device as long as it drowns the noise from your surroundings.

Luka knocked on the door a couple of times, worried that there was no response, he immediately swung the door open but not enough to hit the wall. Confused, he stood there assessing the situation: A messily wrapped human burrito with headphones on. Chuckling, he walked over to check on you.

With your eyes closed while reciting the multiplication table in your head in attempt to distract yourself as well as having a noise cancelling headphones on, you didn’t hear Luka knocking nor walking in. You flinch hearing the muffled sound of thunder, burying yourself more under the covers. Luka being the attentive lad that he is, understood the situation and quickly went over to where his instruments are in the room, he flipped the switch on and lift up the cover of his keyboard revealing the white and black keys.

You felt the covers being shifted, you slightly open your eyes and saw Luka tucking your sides making you into a perfect human burrito, not too tight but not too lose. You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment, you open your mouth ready to say something but he noticed you first.

“Comfy?” He beam at you, he saw the confusion in your face before taking off the headphones from you chuckling. He stood, towering over you “Look (Y/N)....I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner” He said with a sigh, scratching the back of his head with a sad smile on his face which made you blush even harder.

“But it’s not your fault, there’s really no need to apologize..plus it’s not like you knew about it in the first place” You said, shaking your head. You both look into each other’s eyes with gentle smile on your faces before Luka let out a guffaw. You watch him with wide eyes, unsure what just happened and with his contagious laugh, you end up joining him.

“I-- Oh god.. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” He exhaled, calming himself down “It’s alright, if I’m where you are I’d probably do the same..burrito moment I guess?” You giggled, slowly sitting up wiping your eyes as it forms tears from laughter. You momentarily forgot about your fear until both of you hear a distant rumbling.

“Here, wear this and get comfy, I just need to set up something for a sec” He handed you the headphones back and made his way to where the keyboard is, you put on the headphones placing one cushion properly on your ear and the other just behind your ear, in case he wants to converse you won’t miss it. You watch him with curious eyes as he takes out a jack splitter and earphones. He plugged in both head/earphones in the jack splitter, he wore one of the buds in his ear and pressed down on a key testing the volume. He chuckled, amused with your surprised expression before playing a couple of notes to test it out further.

“You good?” you can hear the glee behind his soft voice and you nodded bringing the covers over your shoulders instead of laying back down. He started playing, you watched him, you can see how happy he is in his element. You caught yourself blushing as you gaze at him and felt your heart skip a beat, afraid that he’ll turn to you, you averted your gaze before sinking yourself in the covers further feeling confused and unsure about your emotions. Luka started humming as he plays the keyboard, you closed your eyes captivated by his music.

You felt safe and secure and just then and there, you start to open up. Like box being opened, bit by bit you open up to him, he didn’t stop playing nor did he say anything, just like the first night you cried and him being in the room but still found comfort in his presence. Though this time not a tear was shed, in fact you felt at peace with yourself after keeping the thoughts in your head and letting it out. You knew he was listening intently as you notice some off key notes when you talk about the recent events.

“Thank you, Luka”  You said in a soft voice, adoration in your voice.

The music stopped so did the storm outside, you turn to his direction ready to ask if he’s alright, only to be met with his ocean blue eyes in front of you. He knelt down, slightly leaning on the edge of the bed as you both stare into each others eyes. You can clearly see the pained expression on his face before pulling you into a tight hug.

And just like that, right there and then, you realised how much you like this boy.

“I'm so sorry” you hear his voice crack as the words left his mouth. You can feel your heart thumping loudly when he finally pulled you in for a tight hug, you hugged him back as he utter words of comfort in your ears. And just like that, the wheel started turning.

                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N)?.... Earth to (Y/N)!” you blinked seeing a hand being waved on your face pulling you back from your thoughts.

“Err..sorry, sorry, here now” you said with an awkward smile “Sorry, what were you saying?” You look down poking around your food. You’re currently with your friend Kagami, you look at her while eating your omurice as she rambles on about her kendo classes and the girl she’s taken a liking to. You let out a giggle as she talks of the mystery girl, fumbling on her words with pink tint on her cheeks.

“Ugh...how do you approach someone?!” she questioned with an exasperated sigh placing her head on her hands “Help (Y/N)!”

“Well, have you tried saying hello? That’s how a person usually approach someone” you deadpan before popping a spoonful of omurice in your mouth.

“Oohh wow! I’ve never thought of that. AT. ALL!”

“Look, stop overthinking things, it’s not like you’re gonna get married after saying ‘Hi’ to her or something...that’s if you EVER get to say that” You let out a laugh while she scowls at your remark. Kagami breathed out deeply, calming herself “Okay. Fine. You’re right...baby steps..ugh emotions!” She cringed at herself “Alright, thanks (Y/N)..gotta run now though, Kendo calls, catch ya later?” She got up from her seat picking her bag up before giving you a hug, you hugged back and nodded “Go get you some!” you wink at her with a big grin on your face, she rolled her eyes at you and huffed before leaving you at the cafeteria “Mata ne~” you said, earning a wave back from her.

Food all consumed, you get up taking your things with you before heading out of the campus, saying ‘goodbye’ and ‘see you later’ to other students you're acquainted with.

You're currently a student in Seikei University majoring in Cultural Studies, since you moved from Paris to Japan, you've taken quite a liking to Japanese culture, which pushed you into taking up the course.

You have been living in Japan for a while now, in Kichijoji to be exact, which is in the west side of Tokyo. Unfortunately you're not in contact with either Luka and Luciano ever since you moved from France, though you still wonder about how they're doing from time to time especially the dark haired boy that you used to know.

It didn't take you long to figure out that you had feelings for Luka, to be fair he didn't make it hard for you to fall for him either, he was very comforting, selfless and always treat people with kindness. You knew deep down that it was that one night when you opened up to him that you became aware of your feelings. Afraid that you'll be rejected, you didn't confess to him at all, for all you know he only sees you as a friend or even as a sister.

Luka introducing you to one of his friends named ‘Marinette’ didn't make you feel any better either. Truth be told, after meeting her you realised that Luka acts differently around Marinette compared to when he was with you.

You shake your head trying to trying not to let your thoughts consume you as you go out and about. As you pass a konbini [convenient store] you did a double take on one of the many posters that’s plastered on the window as you noticed a familiar face.

You stop on your tracks, skimming through the poster you read the words ‘catwalk’/ ‘[date]’/ ‘Gabriel’/ ‘[place]’/ ‘Adrien Agreste’. You analyse the photo on the poster, it's a headshot of Adrien with a split lighting, you can see that the theme of the photograph is dark and alluring, he had a smirk on his face while biting his lower lip, there's no doubt that puberty treated him well, too well if you'd say so yourself. This wasn't the same boy you used to see the face of back in Paris, this is definitely a Man.

You take out your phone taking a picture of the poster to put up in your social media

“... He got his sides shaved?! @adagreste let me breathe?

.

.

P.S. When/if you're in Tokyo, eat curry.”

You tweeted before putting your phone away continuing on your journey home.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, with fluffs and goofy Kagami <3 hope you like it too! 

Sorry for the grammar errors and tenses (I suck at that one big time!)...I edited this already but I feel like there’s still errors in there but can’t figure where (English isn’t my strong suit >.<”) 

Nonetheless, I hope you reblog my fic if you like it :3 <3 

[angelic-guardienne]

Darkest Minds - II

Whoo, back at it again with Detective!Ignis. This one is just suuuper angst heavy, so. Proceed with caution! Haaaa, this took forever to think of, but I wrote it pretty much one sitting. Whew.

[Previous]

Tagging: @alicemoonwonderland (finally have more for ya) @nemo-ne-impune-lacessit @for-lack-of-a-better-world @amicitonia @roses-and-oceans @ponkita @zoeyredbird1 @tales-of-a-fallen-star @kerrtrash @crazykruemel @onpanwa @themissimmortal

At noon that same day, after five grueling hours of remaining cordial with his coworkers despite simply wanting to run away and never look back, Ignis was sitting at a table in a homely cafe not far from the station, listlessly eating a sandwich and sipping coffee. He watched the milling citizens through the front window, almost all of them proceeding with life as if nothing had happened.

It was all so mundane. Even when he felt like the world should have stopped in mourning, it just kept spinning, his tragedy confined to just a few select people. Iris Amicitia was dead, but that was just a minor concern to the general public. People would remain cautious for the moment, trying to be more aware of their surroundings and where they were at whatever time to be sure that the same fate did not befall them. The caution would fall by the wayside, and everything would return to normal.

It made Ignis sick to his stomach, that the entire population wouldn’t be feeling the same loss that he was, even if that was a selfish thought. It felt so wrong for them to be able to move on so fluidly, to remain so distanced from it all, to remain so completely unaffected.

And then he realized the hypocrisy in his own thoughts. 

He was a detective. He reassured mourning families and tried to make sure those responsible for the crimes committed paid the appropriate price. They called him unflappable, even cold, as he tried his damnedest not to let any case affect him in too big of a way, apparently making it look effortless going by the comments he heard about how unfeeling he seemed. “Detached” looked to be his middle name.

For so long, it’s worked out for him. Only the worst cases got a reaction out of him – at least, a reaction down by the station – and even then it was subdued. Ignis refused to let himself get caught in the whirlwind of emotion that was mourning for a life already lost to the world’s insanity. Getting consumed by such raw feeling would deter him from his goal – finding the person responsible and getting them the appropriate sentence.

Now that Ignis was no longer in the driver’s seat of the situation, now that he was reacting instead of acting, all of the feelings he’d let build up under the pretense of an icy focus came crashing down. Now that Iris was dead, now that Ignis was the one that needed to be consoled, now that he could no longer remain so untouched by it all… Ignis barely had the energy to struggle with keeping up a calm demeanor, and everyone saw him as he felt – hurt and tired, put simply.

Ignis’ stomach was roiling, his appetite lost. He stiffly stood from his seat, tossing the remaining half of his sandwich and exchanging his cold coffee for a cup of ice water. He chewed on an ice cube as he exited the establishment, heading back to the station. There was work to be done, and he didn’t have time to linger so deeply in his thoughts.

It wasn’t much longer before Ignis arrived at his destination. He headed straight for his desk, clutching his little cup of water tightly as he felt himself being crushed underneath the suffocating atmosphere. Ignis didn’t fail to notice the looks his coworkers were giving him, and he certainly didn’t fail to ignore them. They needed to focus on their jobs, not on him.

Ignis plopped down in his chair, immediately opening and beginning to inspect the file that was left there for him. It looked fresh, the paper was even still a bit warm from the printer, but the biggest indicator had been the large, bold letters, “I. AMICITIA” printed across the front. Ignis heaved a sigh as he read through the general report and looked through the photos, forcing himself to keep his head on straight as he reviewed everything. He needed to focus if he was to get anything done.

Still… he chanced a glance at Gladio’s office, only to find the door closed, the shutters down over the window, and the lights off. Gladio, currently, was not here.

Right.

Once the news made it around the station, everyone had taken notice of Gladio diving headfirst into his work and not looking back. They figured it was best that Gladio take some time off, just to let things settle in and to let him mourn his loss without the pressure of the case looming over his head. Gladio had protested firmly, not even looking up from his paperwork until Ignis admitted that he agreed with their coworkers.

“You’re going to run yourself ragged like this.” Ignis said, placing a gentle hand on Gladio’s tense shoulders. “Go home. I’ll – we’ll take it from here.”

Gladio seemed to be having a small mental war with himself before he finally acquiesced to Ignis’ request, turning a thankful, if not slightly miffed, red-rimmed gaze up at his long-time friend. “Only because you said so.”

Ignis raised a brow, allowing a smirk to pull at his lips. “Is that so?”

Gladio nodded, giving an affirmative grunt, then started to gather his things in preparation to depart. Ignis left his office with a final farewell.

Ignis pulled himself out of the brief memory, shaking his head. He scanned over the documents in front of him again, but his focus kept evading him, the words blurring on the page. Looking at the pictures and reading the report, he knew it was all too real, yet part of his mind refused to accept the notion. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the concept that he’d never get to cook alongside Iris again, or hear her laugh, or listen to her banter with Gladio, or hear the ping of his phone when she texted him to talk about some new fabric she’d seen at the market, or watch as she and Gladio fought over the last of a pile of pastries he’d baked–

Ignis huffed out a sigh, removing his glasses and holding his face in his hands. His throat burned and he could feel the sob rising, feel the shake beginning to crawl up to his shoulders, but he choked both sensations down, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Iris deserved his full attention, and he’d give her no less.

At least, that was the plan.

When he’d slipped his glasses back on, Ignis immediately noticed the figure looming over him: one of his coworkers, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. She gave him a rather sad look and placed her hand on his shoulder, just as he had done for Gladio earlier.

Her tone was as gentle as her touch. “Ignis, you should probably–”

“Head home,” he finished for her, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back in his chair. He removed his specs again before draping an arm over his eyes. Another sob threatened to escape him, completely unprovoked, and Ignis forced it down again.

“Yes.” she said, voice still soft, “You’re just as affected as Gladio is. You both need rest and time to recuperate. Head out, we’ll cover the case for now.”

Ignis remained still for a moment, weighed the costs and benefits of protesting, but he quickly gave up. He was so exhausted, the bone-deep tiredness of mourning lain over him like a blanket, and he wasn’t entirely sure sleep would fix it. Still, it was worth a try. So Ignis relented to her demands, packing his belongings and robotically exiting the building and making his way to his car.

Six, he felt so numb. He could only imagine how Gladio felt.

Ignis made it to his apartment with little fanfare, dropping his bag by the door and sinking onto the couch, staring blankly at the dark television screen across from him.

He remained there until his phone buzzed from his pocket. He recognized the tone as Gladio’s and reached for it, listlessly reading the text.

GLADIO: How are things coming along?

IGNIS: I’m not sure

There was a small pause before Gladio’s reply.

GLADIO: They kick you out too?

IGNIS: It would seem so

IGNIS: How are you holding up?

GLADIO: Fine

IGNIS: Liar.

It took Gladio ten minutes to respond.

GLADIO: Can I come over? Can’t stand being in this house any longer

IGNIS: Of course

GLADIO: Thanks. Be there soon

Ignis nodded and put his phone away, then stood and made his way into the kitchen. “Soon” meant anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes, which should be just enough time for him to cook something up for Gladio to eat. Ignis worked under the assumption that the other man hadn’t eaten since he’d gotten the news, and knowing Gladio, his assumption was probably right.

Ignis planned on making something simple, just a vegetable stew, but when he took out a carrot and laid it on the cutting board, he was assaulted with memories of Iris standing next to him, and then his hand was shaking too much to properly wield the knife and cut the carrots. The slices he’d made were crooked and uneven and entirely too large. Ignis sighed, setting his knife down and leaning against the counter. That plan was out the window.

Ignis resigned himself to setting some water onto the stove to boil so he could make two cups of noodles. He didn’t share Gladio’s degree of fondness for the meal (he doubted that anyone did) but he could admit that the noodles made a fine comfort food.

They both needed all the comfort they could get.

After Gladio arrived and Ignis had served the Cup Noodle, they sat on the couch in relative silence. Neither of them touched his food very much.

Ignis was, frankly, startled when he tasted salt on his lips that he was sure hadn’t come from the cup, and then he realized that he was crying. The sobs that he’d barely managed to keep a lid on throughout his time at the station finally came bursting from him, breaking the already fragile silence that had settled over the room.

Hearing Ignis cry was the last straw for Gladio and the floodgates opened. Tears streamed down scarred cheeks in an endless stream and Gladio let out a noise that sounded akin to the one he’d made on the phone earlier in the day. Ignis cried harder, and Gladio followed.

No words were exchanged; no words were needed. They simply mourned together for the loss of a little sister to the world’s insanity.

[alien-origins]

tag

i was tagged by both @bunmyun and @swaggyt-enthusiast to share 10 facts abt myself💓💓💓 thank you bbys !! 

1. i can’t stand cold. like in sweden it’s getting colder and colder every day with winter approaching and it’s around +15*C and i’m freezing already I have no idea of how i’ll survive. like i wear 2 pairs of fleece leggings under my pants, 3 shirts and a jacket + scarf. and i hate wearing clothes.

2. when i was younger i sang in a choir. so for 6 years i sang in a choir and i even had a few solos in the last two years. It was really fun and i do love singing but i’m not good at it and i’m out of shape since it’s been so long since i sang seriously. 

3. i am still scared of being alone at home, especially when it’s dark or late. i get really easily scared and it stays for months and i have trouble sleeping. so like yesterday i had to go home alone and it was late and i was alone and i ran from room to room with my back to the wall bc i was so scared. at least the bunnies soothed me a little and i watched iron man. 

4. we recently found out that we have relatives on my mother’s side in america somewhere in a old climate close to canada that moved there while we were having a hard time in sweden with farming and money. a lot of people left the country to try find a better life in america because people kept talking about how good it was there.

5. i sneeze “cutely” or “like a kitten” according to everyone and like it’s a little embarrassing when i sneeze and someone is like “aaw bless you, you sound so cute!” like what do i say??? thank you???

6. i love the ocean and sand beaches. i feel so at home there and i love being in the water and just sitting on the beach enjoying the sound of waves. idk maybe it’s bc i’m a aqua and it has something to do with me being a water bearer. but what i’d like to spend my time doing is sitting on the beach watching the sun rise, hear the water and feel the slightly cool wind in my hair. 

7. i always get up at 6am no matter if i’m on a holiday or summer break, i get up at 6am or sometimes 7am. but if i get up after 8 i feel like i lost a whole day and i am anxious for days. i have had anxiety about death wince i was 6 years old and if i lose too many hours i get near panic.

8. i’m not vocal at all about my feelings. it takes a lot for me to actually open up and talk baout something i’m going through or how i feel. another aqua trait. i’m shut off and rather show my affection in actions and body language. 

9. i love skinship. i feel secure and at home when i can touch someone. like when i talk with people i often hold their hands or play with them because it makes me feel comfortable. i love cuddling and i love being held. even just a hand on my thigh or like knees touching.

10. i have a lot of birthmarks on my arms and some nice fun ones here and there. i have one that looks like a heart on the side of my knee. 3 ones at my left hip making a triangle shape. some over at my collarbones and out on my shoulder that looks like the big dipper (the constellation) and one on each cheek.

i tag @1adyluck @bulba-suho-r @taos-left-eyelid @smileforyongguk @exordiam @04gf @chogiwapark @glitzyeol @ohunshine @co-kai-ne @baekpeach @moutonrose @mr-kris-wu-yi-fan @saranghaeyeols @smtownvi you don’t have to do it unless you want to ofc !!

[ka-za-ri]

Galene (Prompto x FemOC)

Genre: Slice of Life Rating: SFW Pairing: Prompto x Female OC????  Wordcount: 2,113 Suggested Listening: 月に照らされ、風に揺れる華 -- Hanafugetsu Tags: @roses-and-oceans @r-e-g-a-l-i-a @sweetchocobae @rubyphilomela @thirsty-angst-lord @hypaalicious (???? Is this ok??? IDK if ppl wanted to be tagged bc lmao it’s not Ignis) Notes: Yeah, that’s right. You CAN believe your eyes. It’s not Ignis. My muse is out of control and wanted me to do a character study on Prompto. Because of that one post floating around that said he was neglected as a child. Hooo buddy, I had feels. No beta in sight, more experimental stuff. 

GALE′NE (Galênê), a personification of the calm sea, and perhaps identical with Galateia, one of the Nereides, is called by Hesiod (Theog. 244) a daughter of Nereus and Doris.

--

Prompto Argentum lived on a borrowed name and made up time. What he wished to belong to him was created for a purpose not his own. He hid this fact through a smile that was brighter than the sun and wider than the skies along with a laugh and louder than the storms. Prompto Argentum was made up of fragments and of broken promises.

As beautiful as the city was, the world beyond it seemed so dreamlike to him. What photos he could take of the jagged horizon were always too blurry, imperfect, idyllic, manufactured. He wanted many things in life, trust, friendship, acceptance, but more than anything, he wanted sleep. Tucked into the corner of the city, a commoner dressed as a Crownsguard in training, he wished for space, a place to think to hear what thoughts could be his and his alone.

Loneliness was something he was familiar with. In a gated community filled with older folks who kept more to themselves than their neighbors, he found solace in capturing moments in time through his camera when his heart skipped a beat at the beauty that surrounded him. Through the click of a shutter and a shy glance up to make sure no one was watching, he hoarded images, hoping, praying that they would live for him. Life for him was perfectly serene, and he had warm memories of trying to take pictures of the void of stars at night above the water.

Prompto found himself walking a lot. Most of the time, it was in the dead of the night when it was quietest and his thoughts almost seemed to collect correctly. Strolling the streets, he learned the corners and the quaintness of his neighborhood as the critters of the night scampered off, eventually leading him to the beach. He never needed music to listen to when his feet lead him to the water. The sound of gently lapping waves accompanied the beating of his heart and provided the booming baseline to his footsteps being the only sounds that he needed to think, to breath, to believe that he was real.

He often counted stars during those long walks, thinking them as a reflection of the freckles on his face. Each constellation he matched fell from the heavens to kiss gently at his cheeks and take a little bit of the stress he felt away from him. As the waves caressed at the corners of his consciousness, he could almost believe he was once born, and not made to be human. As the tide fell when the moon retreated, so did the tension of being and all that was left was his ability to believe.

Fondly, most fondly of all, he remembered the first night to the beach. He sat on a rock that was still holding onto the last vestiges of warmth from the sun, staring out into the darkened waters as moonlight rippled and played across the surface. It was the first night he didn't need his camera to capture the magic of the world around him. As tempting as the water seemed to be, the first nip of autumn air prevented him from dipping his toes into its inky depths. As brightly as he shone during the day, he could not let anyone know how weak he was to illness. That night, he recalls most fondly of throwing the windows to his room wide open so that he could continue to listen to the restless ocean just past his reach.

--

Six weeks of regularly walking at the beach and Prompto Argentum began to hallucinate.

There's no way she's real.

Thursday night, just past 3 AM on a routine walk, the peaceful lull of waves was interrupted by the unfamiliar sound of splashing and a voice that shone brighter in the dark night than his smile in the sun. Someone, laughed and sang during his hours of the dead when he was sure no one was awake.

Down by the pier she danced in the dark, glassy waters of the night, laughing and squealing at the fish that darted and danced by her legs. She sang loudly, off key and off tune to songs from at least three decades ago. The way she moved smelled strongly of chrysanthemums and orange blossoms in the summer. Despite the chill of autumn setting in, she flailed and swam in the darkened water as if it was the middle of summer.

Under a waxing moon which nestled between Castor and Pollux, Prompto Argentum met a goddess who was drenched in the light of the stars while moonbeams dripped heavily from her eyelids.

She didn't notice him until he was only about thirty paces from the end of the pier.

"Oh, hello! I didn't think people were up this late! What's up? Couldn't sleep?" Her first interaction reminded him of a wide-eyed curious child, naive to the world.

"I usually take a walk down by here to help me go to sleep" He replied, skeptical, and sure he was still strongly imagining everything.

"No, no. There has got to be a better reason why someone like you would be up this late, walking around here like you've never seen water before." She disappeared underneath the dark surface of the water and Prompto felt himself sigh in relief, realizing the moment was over. When she appeared again, at the edge of the pier, arms crossed on the wooden planks, hair swirling around her face in a tangled mess, he felt his heart stop. "Come on now, there's got to be a story behind all of this."

"There really isn't a story to any of this. It's just... nice and quiet here." He shrugged before coming to his senses that yes, there was someone there and yes, they were speaking to him. He couldn't help but wish that his camera was with him to catch the way the moonlight made her hair looked curled and wild.

"Quiet is the only good thing about this place, really." She scoffed.

"Well, I mean, it's better than during the day when it's all noisy."

"I guess you have a point there." She sighed and shifted her weight a bit, making the planks of wood groan slightly. "There's literally nothing to do here though. All the people are old and no one ever swims in the water during the day. I mean have you seen how much trash there is?"

"Wait, then why are you in the water now?"

"Because I want to be. But that's beside the point. You never really answered my question. Why are you here? There's no way a pretty thing like you grew up here. All the old grannies would be spoiling you rotten to the core. Did you move here recently?"

"I... I grew up here. I just, don't really go out much. But I just started coming to the beach recently. How did you figure?"

Maybe it was just the way the water lapped at her waist as she clung to the edge of the pier that made her seem like a sprite straight out of a fairy tale. Or perhaps it was the moonlight casting a glowing halo around that made her seem absolutely surreal and ethereal to him. Still, a deeply skeptical part of him truly wanted to believe he was imagining this whole scenario.

"Well, first, there are no younger people here. I'm just visiting my folks for a little bit. Been away for a while. I'm an ornithologist y'know. Most of my studies are on chocobos, but I really like to run around finding the big ones, like ruhks! So, my reasearch takes me all over the place." She let out a dreamy sigh and settled her head back down on her arms. "It's nice though, coming back for a bit and taking a dip every now and then. Secondly, if you need to take a walk around here to lull you to sleep from the city sounds, you must be one hell of a light sleeper, kid."

"I'm not a kid! I have a name. It's Prompto. And you'd best remember it. I'm training to be a Crownsguard." Prompto huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Look, it's just, nice to walk around here at night. It's like you, coming back to your parents' place."

As much as he tried not to show it, he felt a twinge of envy that she even had a place with parents to come back to. What with how often he saw his own folks, it was difficult to swallow the bitter feeling that was rising from the back of his throat. She, as carefree as the world, had the one thing that he wanted.

"No, no." She countered, shaking him out of the foul mood that was sinking through his skin. "You see, those are two different things. I'm coming back here because I have a familial obligation and it's a free room for a few days before I have to head out again. You, on the other hand willingly bring yourself to walk around in the dead of the night so you could experience 'peace and quiet.' Prompto. You may be a Crownsguard in training, but man, you're weird. Have you ever heard of earplugs? They work miracles on loud noises, and you'll get a lot more sleep that way 'cause y'know, you're not up and about in the dead of the night."

Any chance Prompto had to reply was cut short as she floated off to play with more invisible fish in the impossibly dark water. Prompto didn't really have much of an answer to her question. He could have easily found the quiet he wanted in other ways, but he chose to seek the water as if it was the only place that mattered to him. Perhaps it was that magnetic draw to it that eventually brought him to her.

How sorely he wished he had his camera to catch the stars as they flickered in the night sky while she laughed and sang songs he had only briefly heard in snippets while browsing radio stations.

The rest of the night, he sat at the edge of the pier, feet numb and dipped into the water, watching as she swam around, laughing and talking to her fishy friends. The part of him which thought it was all an illusion at first became the part of him that yearned for her to talk to him and not her silent, swimming friends.

By the time the night waned and Prompto got himself to bed, he refused to open his windows. The sound of waves that night were too loud with the sound of free will and singing fish.

~~

In the morning, at his front doorstep. His shoes and a bright pink sticky note with a message scrawled on it:

Goofball, you left your shoes at the end of the pier. At least the grannies here were nice enough to point me in the direction of your place. You're lucky I'm not your shoe size because I would have made these mine if I could.

The place her name should have been was smudged and illegible. His shoes had been spitefully filled with sand and he couldn't help but laugh at her petty nature. Six, I should have asked for her name...

The rest of his day, the whole scenario of their conversation haunted him. The scrap of paper with her written note burned in his pocket and he found himself constantly fidgeting with it. He found himself forgetting most of what he was supposed to be training for and ending up with more bruises that day than he cared to talk about. Not that there were a lot of people he could talk to about them in the first place.

By the end of his scheduled day, out of sheer frustration and impulse, the weightless note became an unbearable burden to him and he threw it in the garbage.

He destroyed the one and only memento he had from a conversation with a water goddess. Though the object itself was temporal, the memory of her moon drenched figure lived forever in Prompto's mind. And he would chase that image forever move with his camera in hand.

Prompto Argentum lived on borrowed time and makeshift memories. However, he'd now count the pictures he's taken and they would more than make up for the lost time that wasn't his.

[kuraiamore]

Zura 2017 bday fic, plum rain

pairing: Gen (though can be GinZura if you feel like it)

fandom: Gintama

rating: G

summary: Happy birthday, Zura!

I know, I know, I’m late, but this ended up so much longer than I expected (I mean, all my fics end up like that, but still...), and I’m a very easily distracted creature >.< In any case, it’s done now, so I hope you enjoy!<3

AO3 or read below

Another day of nothing but dreary summer rain, the overcast skies so heavy with water Gintoki thinks he should start stepping outside for his morning showers and save on the water bill—except going outside would mean standing around in the muggy weather and having to deal with the outside humidity making the air dense and sticky against his skin.

Yeah, better to just keep lounging around on his desk chair and wait for the rainy season to pass.

After all, if snivelling kids and high school brats get a summer holiday, why can’t he? He is most definitely still a kid at heart; his hoarded pile of Shounen Jump could attest to that, which reminds him…

He swivels around on his chair and checks the calendar hanging by the window.

Yep, Monday; the latest issue of his most beloved magazine should be out by now, waiting for him on the cheap wooden shelves of convenience stores and train station kiosks.

His fingers twitch, the phantom sensation of rough paper and waxy front and back covers sliding across his pads. He glances out the window; the downpour hasn’t relented at all, torrents of rain falling lazy and fat over Edo and sending the slightly rotten petrichor of the city wafting up into the Yorozuya office.

“Ne, Kagura,” he singsongs, swinging his chair back around to look across the room at the young Yato seated on the floor between coffee table and couch, a pen in hand and doodling absentmindedly on a letter she's been composing to Umibouzu for the past hour, more paper and pens in varying colours scattered about the table.

“What is it, Gin-chan?” she asks, mild and sweet as the summer rain singing around them. The faraway quality to her voice that always appears on slow, rainy days dips her words with a soft wistfulness she’s probably not even aware of. Gintoki drums his fingers against the desk and waits for the butt of the pen to stop moving and bright blue eyes to turn in his direction.

“You hungry?” He does his best to keep his voice cool and nonchalant, but long experience living with him immediately makes Kagura narrow her eyes and cock her head to the side.

“And if I said I was?”

“What’s with that suspicious look, huh? Here I am, your gracious and generous guardian, simply wanting to offer you the chance to head down to the convenience store with money earned from my blood and sweat so that you can buy yourself a snack.”

Her eyes narrow even further, as if she’s squinting at something particularly loathsome.

“And pick up the latest copy of Jump for me while you’re there,”  he finally relents.

“What a scummy adult you are, Gin-chan,” Kagura says, somehow managing to look down on him even though she’s the one sitting on the floor, “trying to trick young girls into going out into the rain for a stupid stack of papers no decent person over the age of fifteen would be caught dead with. What if I caught a cold and got sick, huh? What kind of guardian would you be then, huh? Would you feed me lots of rice and pickled seaweed and wait on me hand and foot until I got better, aa?” She pauses, her eyes widening to what would be a guileless stare if it wasn’t for the sly gleam sneaking through. “Actually, yes, give me some money, Gin-chan, I think I’ll head down to the shops after all.”

As Kagura stretches out her free hand towards him, palm up, he kicks out with his foot and spins around to face the window again.

“Ahh, look at all that rain out there!” He gesticulates wildly up at the grey-white sky. “Guess you better stay indoors after all, Kagura! Wouldn’t want you getting sick now, would we?”

“You should go out, Gin-chan; idiots can’t catch colds, so you’ll be fine.”

Gintoki only grunts in reply, leaning back heavily in his chair and staring drearily out the window. His only solace is the thought that no one with a respectable job is likely out in the downpour, and surely no working man or woman has time for the ¥300 childish mindlessness of Shounen Jump. There’ll most definitely be a copy waiting for him tomorrow, and with the month almost at its end, the rainy season should be over any day now.

He settles more comfortably into the desk chair, content to listen to the rain wash over the city and let the day pass by in quiet banality.

He zones out to the tinkling of water droplets falling on metallic roofs, the rush of the water gurgling and trickling through the empty streets below, and almost misses the knock at the door, only just managing to discern the rhythmic tap-tap-tap pounding beneath the pitter-patter.

“Gin-chan, door,” Kagura says helpfully.

“What the hell,” he mutters to himself, peeling himself from fake leather and moving sluggishly down the hallway to the front of the apartment. “Who in their right mind would be outside in this crappy weather?”

He pulls open the sliding panel and his entire version goes white, a blast of heated air flying into his face. At first he thinks he’s gone and fainted for no apparent reason, but then he blinks several times in rapid succession and takes a step back to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway, the wide outline of his body almost blurring into the white-grey of the sky. In one flipper, the ever-creepy alien duck holds a slim but wide black case by two strappy handles; in the other, his trademark signpost, words sketched out in big, black strokes.

GOOD AFTERNOON YOROZUYA. MAY I COME IN?

A folded umbrella, leaning against the wooden rail, slowly drips a tiny lake onto their porch.

“Don’t get any water into the house,” Gintoki says, moving back to let their visitor in.

Before he can turn to lead the way back into the main room, Elizabeth holds out the case and looks at him expectantly.

Gintoki pulls a face, suspicion in every line, then sighs and takes hold of the straps, hoping that whatever Joui madness he had just resigned himself to wouldn’t take up more than a few hours, and especially wouldn’t involve any running, fighting or general physical activity to be done outside.

A squelching sound pulls him out of his thoughts; he watches in a mix of disbelief and horror as Elizabeth pulls off his duck feet, careful not to touch the wet soles, and lines them up neatly in the genkan. He suppresses the urge to shudder when he catches sight of a pair of feet and ankles peeking out from under the sheet of white, desperately not thinking about what exactly is living under the sheet.

Instead, he carries the case into the living room-cum-office and sets it down on the coffee table above Kagura’s scattered writing equipment. Face up, it takes up almost a third of the whole table.

“Ah? What’s this, Gin-chan?” Kagura stops in the middle of drawing looping curls of silver on a stick figure standing beside two other stick figures, one with two balls of orange and the other with a pair of glasses, and looks up. “Oh, Eli! What are you doing here?”

Gintoki plonks himself on the couch near Kagura as Elizabeth seats himself on the opposite side of the table. The Yorozuya-minus-one both watch curiously as Elizabeth opens up the case and pulls out a card almost as large as the case itself, turning it over for them to read the words emblazoned on the front in shining gold.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATSURA-SAN!

In the background, various shades of dark blue blur together in a watercolour sea that make the words appear to glow. More gold swirls and dustings of gold glitter artfully flow across the expanse of blue, fireworks over an ocean.

Kagura lets out a gasp, “Eli, this is so pretty! Gin-chan, why didn’t you tell me it’s Zura’s birthday?”

Gintoki opens his mouth to protest, because how is he meant to remember the wighead’s birthday, he barely even remembers his own most years, but at that moment, Elizabeth unfolds the card with a flourish and the words vanish from his tongue as his eyes roam across the page. A chaotic jumble of scribbled messages fill up the almost entire space, handwriting in every degree of elegance and messiness spilling in every direction. Blue, black, green, red, purple, and bizarrely, neon pink ink clash together, words edging against each other as their writers vied for room to compose their birthday messages. The only real spot of white left is a small, rhombic patch near the upper left corner.

Near it, Gintoki reads a long, winding message in familiar handwriting.

‘Happy Birthday, Katsura-san! I know that we haven’t know each other for that long, but I feel really happy and grateful to have met you, both as a man and as a samurai. You have taught me a lot over the years, even if it’s only what NOT to do. Thank you for supporting me, and the Yorozuya, whenever we’ve needed it; we’ll always be here to support you too! I hope you have a really great birthday, filled with lots of laughter and smiles! —Your friend, Shimura Shinpachi’

“Look, Kagura.” He points out the message. “Patsuan’s already written a message for us.”

“What are you talking about Gin-chan?” Kagura picks up an orange pen, the one she must have used to draw her hair buns. “Shin-chan wrote such a boring message; we need to write something fun! It’s Zura’s birthday!”

Nodding to herself, Kagura writes a bold ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZURA!!!!’, followed by drawings of a round cake bearing a single candle, a wonky box topped with an extravagantly big bow, and a party popper. The whole thing takes up half the remaining white space, cutting orange lines into the words of the surrounding messages. Gintoki’s eye twitches.

“Oi, leave some space for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Now shh, let an artist work.”

Resisting the urge to grumble, Gintoki sits back, catching sight of Elizabeth watching Kagura draw. If Gintoki has to guess, he would say that the alien duck is smiling, though it’s hard to tell with the duck bill.

Several minutes later, Kagura jumps up with an excited shout.

“Done!”

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZURA!!!! Let’s do K-BBQ for your birthday next year!!’

Floating all around the message are balloons and stars in every colour she owns—she had even taken the time to squeeze them into the tiny spaces between other people’s messages, filling the card up completely with colour.

Gintoki doesn’t have room to write even the tiniest ‘hapiba’ that wouldn’t be an illegible series of dots.

Ignoring the strangely hollow feeling in his stomach, he turns to Kagura’s grinning face.

“Looks good,” he admits.

Kagura beams, carefully folding up the card and putting it back in the portfolio case for Elizabeth. Over her head, the alien duck tilts his head in question towards Gintoki; Gintoki stealthily waves a hand in response, shrugging lightly. Understanding, Elizabeth accepts the proffered case from Kagura, bowing to both to them, and starts making his way towards the door.

With Kagura seeing the Joui rebel out, Gintoki wanders back to his desk chair, settling himself to face the window once more. Behind him, the sound of footsteps as Kagura comes back, then the scratching of pen against paper. If Gintoki wanted to, he could pretend that Elizabeth’s short visit had never happened.

But.

His eyes keep drifting to the calendar, circling around the date.

June 26th

Zura’s birthday...

His eyes drift shut, the sound of the rain soothing his ears—

—they had spent a night huddled in an alleyway once, their only shelter from the rain a protruding roof, because the men had found out their General Commander’s birthday and that had evidently been enough cause for the entire army to get drunk—

—Sakamoto had bought a bottle of saké for Zura’s birthday once; it was the first time Zura had ever drank a full bottle all to himself, trying to blame the beautiful red flush of his face on the summer heat—

—once, before—

—back when things had been simple, he and Takasugi had found a hidden pool at the foot of a mountain, in the forests on the far outskirts of the village, and spent the days of the long summer week leading up to Zura’s birthday stealing away to deposit bits of hard candy wrapped in pink paper, packets of nuts and red bean mochi, and the occasional bit of fruit into a box they stashed in the upper branches of a nearby tree, the lid carefully tied down against any curious beaks or paws, until the moment when they could bring Zura up to their secret spot and watch his face light up with pure delight; they had spent the whole day swimming and lounging and laughing, sugar tingling on their tongues—

—one night, the three of them huddled in their futons, Zura had confessed that his grandmother had always bought him plums as a treat for his birthday; the next morning, ignoring the dew still clinging to the grass, he and Takasugi got down onto their hands and knees and let Zura climb onto their backs to pick the ripe red fruits hanging down from lush green branches, the smell of earth and rain and plum all around them.

Gintoki opens his eyes; outside, the rain falls.

“Oi, Kagura, I’m heading out.”

“Huh? Whatcha doing out for, Gin-chan?”

“…Shounen Jump.”

“Oh, hmm. Okay then!”

“Yeah, be back in a bit.”

He slips his wallet into his pocket, pulls on his boots, grabs an umbrella, and is out the door in less than a minute, opening up the umbrella as he heads down the stairs and onto the street. It’s a quick fifteen minute walk to the nearest grocer, water splashing under his boots the whole way. The old lady watching the store gives him a kind smile as he starts picking out the juiciest-looking plums from the stand. It makes him want to protest, and tell her it’s not what it looks like, except what does that even mean, he’s just a regular guy picking out regular plums from a regular fruit store, it’s not like they’re meant for anyone, urgh, okay, he’s just going to pay for the plums and leave.

The old lady smiles at him as he walks out, plastic bag full of plums in hand.

He’s halfway down the street when he realises he doesn’t know where he’s going, that he’s never gone searching for the Joui rebel of his own accord, has no idea where he should even start looking.

(Kagura would know; in between the itinerary she keeps of her father’s travels and the timetable of Shinpachi’s kendo classes at the Koudoukan, she saves the slip of paper holding the location of the latest Joui meeting spot, slipped under their door every month.)

The longer he stands there, the worst the rain seems to feel as it slogs and hammers over his umbrella. The air is oppressive, the collar of his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his neck, his hair all frizzled and bristly in the humidity. Frustration gnaws at his chest, and he’s about ready to chuck the damn plums into the bin just to make himself feel better when a familiar low tenor calls out his name.

“Gintoki?”

Looking up, Gintoki sees the man he had been just about to give up looking for standing a few paces in front of him, a large white-and-yellow patterned umbrella shielding him from the downpour around them. He’s forgone his haori, dressed simply in only his usual blue kimono. His hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, only his fringe and a few loose strands of black framing his face.

Somehow, he looks incredibly young, even though he’s aged another year.

Gintoki licks his lips.

“Oi Zura, the hell you doing out here in this rain?” he asks, completely naturally, walking forward to close the few steps between them.

“I’m not Zura, I’m Katsura,” Zura says on autopilot, then makes a contemplative hum, the sound almost drowned out under the rain. “I tried call a Joui meeting today to discuss our future plans, but everybody said they were busy and that I should take the day off. Even Elizabeth left me this morning!” He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. Gintoki watches his tail of hair swish behind his neck with the movement, somehow still looking soft and silky even with the heat in the air. “Honestly, just how do they think we’ll bring change to the country if we’re not constantly striving towards a new dawn, a new tomorrow? Days shouldn’t be wasted so frivolously like that, it’s unbecoming of a samurai.”

“Japan will still be here in a day,” Gintoki says, his voice gentle despite himself.

Zura shoots him an odd look, eyes searching, and Gintoki glances away, his grip on both bag and umbrella tightening.

He’s relieved when Zura lets the comment go unremarked, instead asking, “so what are you doing out here?”

His whole body relaxes, and he holds up the bag and lets it swing in Zura’s face.

“Grocery shopping. Apartment’s out of food and plums are in season. You want one?”

He supposes he can’t blame Zura for the baffled expression that crosses the man’s face, though it smoothes out a second later as a soft smile lights up.

“Yes, that would be nice,” he says.

If he tries hard enough, Gintoki can pretend that the rapid beating of his heart is no more than the pounding of the water falling around them. He coughs lightly into the back of his hand, the plastic bag rustling with the movement.

“Let’s get out of the rain,” he mutters, averting his eyes from Zura’s gaze and making a show of looking up at the sky, even though the only thing he can see is the red of his own umbrella.

He makes no effort to lead.

“…I have a place we can go,” Zura finally offers, turning on his heel.

Gintoki hums in acknowledgement, following after the rebel; they walk in a sort of meandering stroll, the rain and emptiness of the streets beckoning Gintoki to a dreamlike haze. When they finally reach their destination, a small traditional townhouse off a main road, the only thing Gintoki can clearly remember from their walk is the sound of the rain, the weight of the plums in his hand, and Zura.

Leaving their umbrellas and shoes at the entrance, they pad through to the main room at rear of the house, where Zura slides the shoji screen open to reveal a garden grown wild, leaves and branches tangled and groping over sand and stone. Gintoki plonks down on the tatami mats, handing over the bag when Zura gestures for them. The rebel walks off and comes back a minute later carrying a bowl filled with several pieces of the reddish fruit, water droplets glistening on their skin.

Zura sits down cross-legged and sets the bowl between them. They grab a plum each; the plum juice is cool and sweet on Gintoki’s tongue.

The rain outside eases as they eat, a soft breeze drifting through the falling droplets to cool the damp heat clinging to their skin.

Gintoki waits until he hears Zura bite into his second plum before breaking the silence.

“Hey Zura.”

“Hm?”

“Happy birthday.”

A ragged hacking noise.

“O-Oi, you okay?!”

Not knowing what else to do, Gintoki thumps frantically on Zura’s back with his clean hand, trying to catch the other samurai’s face through the fall of his fringe and the hand raised to his face, plum clutched in his fingers.

The choking sounds taper away into little hics, but Zura’s shoulders are still hunched over and shaking, still hiding his face behind hair, hand and plum. It takes Gintoki a few long seconds to realise the wighead bastard is laughing.

Immediately Gintoki’s whole face heats up, and he slaps Zura’s back again out of embarrassment and slight vindictiveness.

“Ah, sorry, Gintoki,” Zura says when the giggles finally subside completely and he can look up properly, letting his hand drop, “I wasn’t expecting that.” His eyes flash suddenly to the left, head tilting slightly with the movement. “Ah, but that could explain… Gintoki, wait here.”

Bemused, Gintoki waits as Zura stands up again, finishing his plum is quick bites and throwing the seed into the garden, and scurries off. He returns carrying a giant saké bottle as tall as his torso, and a round lacquered box painted with pink and white blossoms set against a crimson background.  He sets them down next to the bowl of plums, opening the lid of the box to reveal candy wrapped in petal pink.

The scents of alcohol and mountain forest mingle in Gintoki’s memory.

“Elizabeth gave them to me, said they arrived this morning,” Zura says, a note of something bittersweet laced through his voice, “after the men told me to take the day off. I didn’t even think… Did you plan this?”

Gintoki looks at him, perplexed. “What?”

“Did you plan this?” Zura says again, as if Gintoki hadn’t heard instead being merely confused. He leans forward, earnestness taking over the timbre of his voice. “Elizabeth messaged me and told me to go to the convenience store in Kabuki District. I thought I was going to meet him, but then I ran into you.” His eyes shine.

Beyond the shoji doors, the rain recedes to a lull, the only noise vibrating through the air to their ears the slow chime of raindrops dripping off leaves and splattering to the ground.

Gintoki splutters, his brain running to make sense of Zura’s said, tripping over the words and untenably distracted by the intense way Zura is looking at him, the dark fall of his hair bringing out the gold of his eyes.

“I didn’t—it wasn’t planned—I didn’t even know—wait, that thing knows how to message? Since when did you even carry around a phone, Zura?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gintoki. Elizabeth doesn’t know how to message; he writes on his sign, takes a picture of it, and sends that to me.” He says this so matter-of-factly, the veins at Gintoki’s temples pop slightly with annoyance. “And of course I carry a phone. How else would I keep in contact with all the Joui members? Gintoki, you’re the only one who doesn’t carry a phone, you know.”

“Shut up, the Yorozuya doesn’t need a phone, we have plenty of loyal clientele. What’s the point of carrying around a phone, huh? It’s just useless weight. Besides, Kagura—”

Gintoki stops short, his brain jumping through loops as he remembers how docilely Kagura had let him go, no questions or snide remarks or demands for her favourite snacks from the convenience store. How well connected the young alien is in their rough’n’tumble town, her journal full of locations and names and numbers.

Gintoki groans, wiping a hand over his face. “Meddlesome brat.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Gintoki says loudly, making a note to buy Kagura some dango on the way home.

Zura smiles knowingly; Gintoki picks up a pink wrapper and throws it at his face. Zura laughs as it bounces off his nose, catching it in his hand before freeing the bit of crystallised sugar and popping it in his mouth. He picks up another piece and offers it to the man beside him.

Gintoki rolls the bit of candy around his tongue; as it melts into syrup in his mouth, sweet as Zura’s smile, sunlight breaks through the clouds and stretches across their laps. The whole garden gleams, light glinting silver off still-hanging raindrops.

The air, he thinks, rolling another piece of purple-red fruit to his old friend, smells of rain and earth and plum.

[schirdotblog]

The best games I played in 2018

That's what these lists really are, right? Just a list of the best things you played in a year.

I've been keeping track of what I've been playing, and it looks like I played somewhere in the vicinity of 215 games in 2018. I didn't finish most of the games I played, for obvious reasons, but I want to go over some of the better ones I played last year.

I think crowning any one game as being the best of the year is kind of dumb, and limiting it to just 10 means ignoring a lot of stuff that was equally good. I’m just going to talk about a bunch of games I liked in no particular order, and I hope that’s alright.

WHOLEHEARTED RECOMMENDATIONS

WEST OF LOATHING

Two years running now, West of Loathing remains one of the best games out there. It's the king of comedy in games. The jokes are masterfully crafted and there's more options to approach situations than just about anything else on the market that's even slightly worth checking out. I mean, they're so committed to the jokes that they're selling the game for $11.00 instead of $10.99 just because of a running gag (11 dollars? That's absurd. It's not even funny!).

I wish I had more to say about West of Loathing since it's the game I spent the second-most time on in 2018, but it's the sort of comedy where the jokes rely on the particulars of the phrasing and it sounds lame if you describe the jokes in any way other than the way they're told in the game. It's very experiential.

I'm looking forward to the West of Loathing DLC that should be coming out relatively soon. I think that Jick said that that's mostly finished on the most recent Podcast of Loathing.

Go play West of Loathing if you haven't already. It's quite possibly my favorite game of 2017 and 2018.

EVERBLUE 2

I really wish Everblue would get a remaster or a rerelease. It's so good. I mean, it's rough around the edges, but it's a really solid 'chill out and explore' sort of game. I think that the games press of today is a bit less stupid than the games press of 2002, and gamers today would have an easier time understanding what Everblue's trying to do.

Everblue 2 is a diving game where you hunt ruins for treasure, take pictures of fish, and help out villagers in a small town while competing against a big diving organization. If the game were made today by different people, there'd probably be a lot more cinematography and/or visual novel-esque cutaways. There's not, and a bit more art and making the characters bigger on screen probably would've helped sell the story bits and gotten people to feel more emotional than the relatively small characters and understated text boxes.

But, as it is, I think that lack of cinematography and overdramatization helps to give the game a really understated aesthetic. It's like the game's saying "look, just go diving and appreciate the ocean. Human drama's relatively small in the grand scheme of things, and what really matters is finding something you love and pursuing it aggressively." I mean, it feels a little bit off to navigate through the town. The town's done in a relatively static point-and-click sort of style. Moving a cursor around with an analogue stick feels a little bit off and makes me wish I was back in the diving section. And that's the point. The ocean is vast and huge and wonderful, in the game's eyes, and if you're playing as a diver then you'd want to just get back in the ocean ASAP. All the characters are small on the screen to help communicate how small and less-than-relevant all the drama is to the main character. Everyone else in the scene is going off about how "oh no, the evil corporation bribed one of the Amigos to get ahead of you in finding the treasure" but there's no cinematography to any of it so the feeling you get is just like "Yeah, but they suck at diving and I'm obviously going to get there before they do." You'll feel that way because it's a video game, but since the character's a preternaturally gifted diver, I'd believe that the character feels that way as well, even though they don't talk much.

Everblue 2 was surprisingly good, and I really enjoyed my time with it.

TETRIS EFFECT

Apparently there are people writing off Tetris Effect because it's Tetris. That's really weird to me because Tetris Effect is really good Tetris. I mean, I played a few different versions of Tetris in 2018 and Tetris Effect is by far the standout among them. If there's ever been a case for the value of sound engineers being closely involved with the design process, it's probably Tetris Effect. The subtle animation touches, the dynamic aleatoric music, the particle effects that are overblown but not in the mobile game way -- all of it mixes together to create one of the best versions of Tetris out there.

SEGA AGES: PHANTASY STAR

There's something about Phantasy Star that gets me. Maybe I'm just feeling nostalgic because Phantasy Star was one of the first RPGs I ever tried, but I feel like there's something that Phantasy Star 1 has that no other RPG I've ever played has ever quite captured. Maybe it's the sci-fi setting. Maybe it's the way that the game moves from top-down overworld movement into first-person dungeon-crawling. Maybe it's just that I really, really like the melody playing on the title screen. Maybe it's the fact that the game is fairly serious for an anime game, with the main character being a noble driven by revenge instead of a high school student being driven by the will of the plot.

Phantasy Star feels like a traditional sort of pulpy sci-fi adventure novel, and I think that's what really strikes me about it. RPGs don't really ever try to tell a straight-laced traditional sci-fi adventure, especially turn-based JRPGs. They didn't back then and still don't now. I mean, just trying to think of other RPGs that do the traditional sci-fi thing -- spaceships, interstellar travel, laser guns, robots -- off-hand, I can think of KOTOR, Mass Effect, Cosmic Star Heroine, Star Ocean, Ar Nosurge uh, maybe System Shock? A Blurred Line? Trials in Tainted Space? It's kind of slim pickings. And that's weird, isn't it? I mean, if we're trying to think of generic medieval fantasy titles, we can go and list off Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, Dragon's Dogma, Ni no Kuni, Kingdoms of Amalur, Baldur's Gate, Icewind Dale, Kingdom Come: Deliverance, Age of Decadence, Pillars of Eternity, The Witcher, and so on before needing to reach into the bottom of the barrel for RPG Maker games and porn. It's like everyone writing sci-fi just kind of went "spaceships are lame, let's go do Shadowrun instead", and that's a shame because there's so much room to explore when you have literally the whole universe to work off of.

Genre trappings aside, I think the way that Phantasy Star transitions between top-down and first-person is really interesting at a gameplay level. Top-down exploration, at least at the time, would've evoked lighthearted romps like Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest, while the first-person dungeon-crawling would've made people feel a bit uncomfortable, since it's so claustrophobic and disorienting, evoking memories of more hardcore games like Wizardry, where traps were commonplace and the difficulty was insane. The contrast between the lighthearted and the deathly serious still comes through, even as this particular rerelease has gone and added automatic mapping and an easy mode that rebalances the game to be more accessible to modern design sensibilities. I could go and be all snide about the easy mode, but the whinging about easy modes is tiresome and the dick-waving around hard modes and difficulty and authenticity in games is dumb. The easy mode cuts out a lot of the grindy bullshit and makes it so that you can finish the game in a reasonable amount of time. It might be a little bit against the original spirit of the design, but it makes the game more enjoyable, and that's an acceptable tradeoff.

I really wish that Phantasy Star were its own genre of games, with new people experimenting with the mechanics every couple of years. Like, when you remember that the only other games that are structured in the same way as Phantasy Star are the NES and SNES Megaten games, right down to being able to talk with the monsters and having a first-person view of the item shopkeeper, you can start to see the edges of one of the most fascinating genres that games never explored. Top-down overworld into first-person dungeon-crawler turn-based RPGs with conversation mechanics has so much room to explore, and it's just intrinsically really gritty and cool. I wish more people would explore it. ... Goddammit, I'm going to have to make it myself, aren't I? I guess I'll go bash my head against that later.

Anyway, Phantasy Star is really great, and honestly one-of-a-kind. The spark of creativity that led to the first Phantasy Star game shines bright, even as the series has fallen off the map.

OCCUPY WHITE WALLS

Occupy White Walls is one of the most distilled social games I've ever run across. The goal of the game is to build an art gallery. Put up a couple of walls, go buy some classical art from the art that's loaded into the game's database, place it on the walls, open your art gallery, and wait to buy more art. The only things to do while you're waiting to get more money to expand your gallery and get more art are fussing around with the art placement, talking to people in the chatroom, and visiting other people's galleries. The fact that there's not some monetization scheme to speed up the timers makes me think that the point of the game is honestly and sincerely to get more people to appreciate fine art. The people in the chatroom are pretty reasonable, as online chatrooms go. Everyone has their own style of organizing their galleries, and their own taste in art. That's interesting to see, and it's honestly just a nice little game.

The game's in Early Access, so this is all subject to change. The game might add microtransactions or ads in a later update, and if they do then just ignore everything I've said.

SLAP CITY

I've been a big fan of Ludosity for a good few years now, and a fan of their cofounder Daniel Remar for even longer. The guys at Ludosity have been improving at making games for a while, -- I think Ittle Dew was the turning point where their output started becoming pretty consistently good -- and Slap City is the point where people have finally started to take notice.

Slap City is a platform fighter in the mold of Super Smash Brothers. Where other games in the genre tried to focus on elements like 'big franchise characters' (Playstation All Stars) or 'the technical fighting of Melee' (Rivals of Aether, Icons: Combat Arena), Slap City focuses on the silly party aspect of Smash, and the part where characters who normally don't fight are given a bigger moveset to fight with everyone else. Slap City captures the essence of what makes platform fighters fun, adds its own twists, and has clearly seen a lot of success because of it. I'm very happy that Ludosity's finally getting the credit and acclaim that they've deserved for years.

VALKYRIA CHRONICLES 4

Valkyria Chronicles 4 is, at present, the best game in the Valkyria series. I was really hesitant to buy this one after the absolute disaster that was Valkyria Revolution, but was pleasantly surprised to find that not only was it not a dumpster fire, it was actually pretty good!

Valkyria Chronicles 4 doesn't do anything especially grand by the standards of the series, but it's refined a lot of the rougher parts of VC1 and goes through a lot of the same ideas. Essentially, it's just Valkyria Chronicles 1 again, but way more polished at the gameplay level and with different characters at a different place at a different point in time. Frankly, that's what the series needed, and I'm going to be really interested to see where they go with Valkyria Chronicles 5. VC4 establishes Valkyria Chronicles as an anthology series, has really started polishing the core mechanics, and the designers are getting better at crafting levels with these systems. If Valkyria Chronicles 5 continues along this path and the designers are given more creative leeway to explore war from a different part of the army, we'll have a genuine classic on our hands.

Valkyria Chronicles 4 wipes the slate clean for the series, but does so in the way that soft reboots ought to. That is, it panders to the existing fans by sticking to the core ideas that made the original good and polishing them. It establishes its own identity, and is worthwhile in its own right, and doesn't lean on the original for a cheap sell. It's a really good game, though they need to distill the experience a bit further for it to be a truly great game.

SUPER CLOUDBUILT

I don't have that much to say about Super Cloudbuilt, but it's still the best 3D platformer out there if you can get past the initial learning curve and avoid the Defiance levels like the plague. I think the designers have learned from some of the weaker parts of their design and I'm really looking forward to seeing what Coilworks does with Sky Tracers. Guys, please buy Sky Tracers when it's released. The guys at Coilworks are getting really good at making 3D platformers but nobody's buying their games. Please buy their games so that they can keep making the best 3D parkour-platformers out there.

GRADIENT ADDICTION I don't know what primordial creative ooze this game came out of, but it’s absolutely delightful. There's a sheer joy of creation underpinning this game that's really hard to dislike.

GLOGWILLETTE Everything I said about Gradient Addiction applies here.

VAMPIRE THE MASQUERADE: BLOODLINES Everyone was comparing Vampyr to Bloodlines and it's really difficult to see why they were doing that. I mean, yeah they're both vampire games but Bloodlines is really good and Vampyr is really bad.

Bloodlines is a game that's edgy in the sense that the word was used back around the time of its release. It's incisive. It's biting. It's cutting. They doubled down on the mid-2000s goth aesthetic, and it permeates this game. That's good, because the goth aesthetic absolutely rules.

Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines has a lot of charm to it. The writing's excellent and the gameplay feels pretty good. It's one of those classics that everyone's heard about, so I'll spare you any more words about it.

Ni no Kuni 2 The United States gets nuked and the President is transported to a fantasy world where a young king is about to get overthrown. He caps a few fantasy assassins with his pistol and decides to help the young king conquer the world.

Ni no Kuni 2 is absolutely delightful, go play it.

LESS WHOLEHEARTED RECOMMENDATIONS, BUT STILL REALLY NEAT

XENOBLADE 2: TORNA THE GOLDEN COUNTRY This is going to be the cult classic of the Xenoblade series, I can feel it in my bones. I didn't play much of Torna because I was burnt out on Xenoblade 2's systems after playing 110 hours of Xenoblade 2 and seeing the writing just getting stupider and stupider and the game not ending.

Torna the Golden Country is a prequel to Xenoblade 2. From what little of it I've seen in ten hours, it looks to be focused on all the most interesting characters of Xenoblade 2 at a more interesting point in the game's history. It's not really my thing right now, but I feel like I'm seeing a lot of the elements that people who are a bit more forgiving in their entertainment consumption than I am tend to really love. There's something here, but it's buried. The quality of writing seems much higher than in Xenoblade 2 and we've got a better protagonist than Rex in Laura and the character designs are much more grounded than the main game, and everyone's got clear motivations. These are the sorts of things you see in cult classics.

It's probably relevant to note that, while Torna the Golden Country is described as an expansion pack, it is standalone. You do not need to own Xenoblade 2 to play Torna the Golden Country. I bring this up because the marketing was really unclear on this.

I should really play more of this one.

CROSS CODE It's absolutely delightful, but I don't have much else to say about it. Starts dragging around the 14 hour mark.

YAKUZA (6, Kiwami, Kiwami 2) The Yakuza games are genuinely pretty great, but none of the ones that came out in 2018 really hit home for me. I'd recommend them to people in a heartbeat if they've never tried 'em before, but I don't have anything much to say about the ones that came out this year.

LABYRINTH OF REFRAIN: COVEN OF DUSK NIS put the cool bits of Hundred Knight's aesthetic into a game that doesn't suck ass.

MARY SKELTER: NIGHTMARES It's been like 8 months since I've played this and I don't remember much but I remember that the art style's neat and that it's one of Compile Heart's better dungeon crawlers. Need to get back around to this one.

GO VACATION An absolutely delightful family party game. The minigames are pretty decent and all the different vehicles makes traveling around the resorts reasonably interesting. I get strong MySims vibes off of this, and the MySims games were great.

There's something delightfully video-gamey about the way that you can initiate a cutscene with an NPC by pressing the A button while your car's hurtling towards them at 60 miles an hour.

B+, would recommend.

ALL OF THE KATAMARI GAMES We heart Katamari.

GAMES THAT EVERYONE ELSE REALLY LIKES THAT NEED TO BE ADDRESSED OUT OF OBLIGATION BECAUSE OF THEIR UBIQUITY

CELESTE Celeste is a neat little platformer that's kind of hollow and empty. It's technically competent and fun enough, but kinda bland. It's easy to recommend, but hard to find anything much to say about it. It's alright, but I don't really understand why it won the indie game lottery this year.

ASSASSIN'S CREED ODYSSEY god I just don't care about assassin's creed

RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2 I haven't liked any of the other Rockstar games I've played and see no reason to play this one. Looking forward to the games industry unionizing so that Rockstar and other major studios stop exploiting their employees.

INTO THE BREACH I'm not into roguelites and this one hasn't changed my mind.

HOLLOW KNIGHT Hollow Knight's got a really neat art style and feels pretty good to play, but the Metroid and Souls styles are getting extremely tiresome.

THE MISSING: J.J. MACFIELD AND THE ISLAND OF DREAMS Didn't quite grab me.

VAMPYR Sucks! har har i did a pun

THE MESSENGER I mean yeah it's a ninja platformer. Seems competent enough, plays fine, has decent melodies.

BLOODSTAINED: CURSE OF THE MOON It's neat, but didn't quite grab me.

GOD OF WAR (2018) I don't want to play God of War.

AMAZING SPIDER-MAN I'm burned out on superheroes.

SUPER SMASH BROS ULTIMATE It's fine, and I like it more than Smash 4, but it's missing the creative excitement of Brawl and 64 and Melee.

MONSTER HUNTER WORLD I played it to the start of the high ranks and I still don't get it. It’s fine.

SOUTH PARK: THE FRACTURED BUT WHOLE It's competently made and probably worth a look, but kind of a step down from Stick of Truth.

SUBNAUTICA Really good, but I didn't see much reason to continue after I'd gotten the big submarine. Just kind of fell off of it.

RETURN OF THE OBRA DINN Haven't gotten around to it yet.

OCTOPATH TRAVELER it's a really bland jrpg that does nothing new and nothing exceptionally well. h’aanit sucks and her speech quirk drives me up the wall.

DRAGON QUEST XI it's a really bland jrpg that does nothing new and nothing exceptionally well. does not take any creative risks. dragon quest 5 remains the only really good dragon quest title.

POKEMON LET'S GO eh.

MARIO TENNIS ACES It's fine.

PATO BOX It's really neat. I should play more of it one of these days.

DELTARUNE CHAPTER 1 Toby Fox remains quite good at making video games.

BEAT SABER It's good.

SPLATOON 2 OCTOLING EXPANSION in the splatfest, the octolings had black shirts and the inklings had white shirts

the octolings are trapped and the only way out is to ride a train under the city. the octolings are on an underground railroad, as it were HMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

FORTNITE haven’t played it.

[sjohnson24]

The World’s 5 Most Romantic Retirement Havens

Valentine’s Day: that time of the year when couples seek romantic diversions…hand-in-hand saunters along glistening promenades…secluded excursions…fabulous meals…exotic views…

But what if that sort of romance was easy to find…every day of the year? According to the editors of InternationalLiving.com, there are places where it is.

“Some special locales have a certain je ne sais quoi,” says International Living’s Executive Editor, Jennifer Stevens, “light that falls just right…singular, unforgettable views…meals you find yourself musing about years later…the sort of cultural character that lends itself to memorable moments.”

International Living’s Europe- and Latin America-based editors have pinpointed their picks for romantic locales—many under-the-radar—which lend themselves equally well to holiday diversions and long-term escapes.

International Living’s picks for the five most romantic havens in the world for 2018 are…

The Riviera Maya, Mexico

“Walking, hand in hand, along a moonlit, Caribbean beach or greeting the arriving day with powdery white sand between your toes, watching seabirds dive for their breakfast, are experiences not just for honeymooners,” says IL Riviera Maya Correspondent, Don Murray.

“If you, and the love of your life, lived along Mexico’s famed Riviera Maya, falling asleep to the gentle sound of the surf kissing the shore could be a nightly occurrence. Even the name sounds romantic!”

Stretching from Cancun to Tulum, the Riviera Maya is one of the finest beach destinations in the world. It has a First World feel—modern and prosperous—with direct flights starting at just under two hours from Florida or Texas to Cancun’s modern international airport.

“Drop the beach attire and dress for a romantic Italian dinner at La Dolce Vita in the Centro area of Cancun. Or for a totally unexpected and romantic adventure, check out The Black Hole. Total darkness envelopes you and white gloves, attached to unseen humans, drift through the darkness delivering plate after plate of surprises. And Playa del Carmen’s famed 5th Avenue provides romantic bistros and boutique hotels as well as ample jewelry stores, just in case jewels are in order.

The Pedasi Region, Panama

On the tip of the Azuero Peninsula, on the Pacific Ocean, lies the town of Pedasi. The tranquil, rural town—a five-hour drive from Panama’s capital—is surrounded by green pastures where cattle graze, only a few miles from the ocean.

“There are no highrises here. You’ll see cottages with clay tile roofs, and even the odd casa quincha—cute little homes built using local clay,” says IL Panama Editor, Jessica Ramesch. “Most houses have their ‘living rooms’ on open terraces. Life here is lived in the fresh ocean air.”

But there are many beaches in the greater Pedasi region, just outside the village.

“One of my favorite spots is the surf beach of Venao. The waters are crystal clear, and sand a soft, smooth bronze.

“Outside of the odd festival or surf competition, it’s a quiet, uncrowded place. During my last visit, I sat and watched the sun go down over the half-moon beach. As the last rays disappeared, I enjoyed a dinner of ahi-grade tuna with local vegetables and chilled white wine. The soft ocean breeze and the sound of the waves made for the perfect ambiance…better than any big-city restaurant.

For my money, this is the most romantic region of Panama. That said, you can have a social life here, too. The English-speaking community here is one of the most welcoming I’ve ever encountered.”

San José, Ecuador

When it comes to romance, South America’s Ecuador offers plenty of variety. In this Land of Eternal Spring, there are miles and miles of unspoiled beaches, quiet mountain villages and vibrant cosmopolitan cities. But it is the small coastal village of San José that has stolen IL Coastal Ecuador Correspondent, Jim Santos’ heart.

“Probably one of the most common romantic fantasies is to be stranded on a desert island alone with your paramour.

“So, if your idea of romance includes enjoying beautiful sunsets, fresh seafood, warm breezes, and the sound of the waves crashing on a secluded beach, take a look at the small coastal villages of Ecuador like San José. Your romantic fantasy could become a reality.

“There you enjoy wonderful seclusion, even during high season, on miles of flat, sandy beaches. There are properties sitting right on the beach, set down from the road so that all you can hear are the waves and the seabirds.

“The illusion of being alone on a desert island is complete.”

Costa Ballena, Costa Rica

Costa Rica is one of the best retirement destinations in the world—in fact, it came in at # 1 in International Living’s Global Retirement Index 2018. It topped the categories of healthy lifestyle and healthcare while scoring well in the fitting in, governance, entertainment and amenities, and climate categories.

But it’s also just plain beautiful…a Central American gem rich with exotic wildlife, long untouched stretches of beaches and lush green valleys.

“There is no question about it: Costa Rica is a paradise for romance,” says IL Central Valley Correspondent, John Michael Arthur.

“Opportunities abound for candlelight dinners, showers for two, tropical cocktails on the beach, or simply laughter in the rain at almost every destination Costa Rica has to offer. But there is an up-and-coming area that makes for a perfect romantic retirement haven­: Costa Ballena.

“There is a 22-mile stretch of seashore in Costa Rica’s south Pacific that is made up of three towns: Dominical, and Ojochal, with Uvita between them. Each pueblo has a slightly different feel, but what they share in common is a splendiferous coastline with all but deserted beaches. A new, wide, smooth highway easily connects the area…the ocean at your fingertips to one side and the verdant jungle mountains rising quickly on the other.

“The Marino Ballena National Park calls the area home, as do hundreds of whales that can be seen easily from the beach. Whale watching on the beach—how idyllic is that? The Nauyaca Waterfalls is one of the country’s most arresting cascades and to top it all off, the hidden jewel of Ojochal dishes up some of the finest international restaurants anywhere along the Pacific coast.”

Silves, Portugal

“The fragrance of lemon and orange trees fills the air in a former Moorish capital in the southwest region of Portugal,” says IL Portugal Correspondent, Tricia Pimental. “High atop the town’s hill sits the best-preserved castle in the Algarve, boasting 11 towers. Perched nearby is the cathedral, built on the foundation of a former mosque, and considered the most important Gothic monument in all the region.

“This is enchanting Silves, at one time a key city because of its location on the Arade River, which afforded inland access. Below the fortress ramparts lies a network of narrow streets, and a riverfront filled with shops, cafés, and restaurants.”

Long an under-the-radar destination, today Portugal’s low costs, rich culture, historic towns, warm weather, and varied landscapes are attracting American retirees in increasing numbers.

Pimental recommends dining at O Barradas in Silves, on the covered garden terrace, located in a converted country farmhouse.

“Romance is pervasive in Silves, where natural beauty abounds. In the main square, Praça de Municipio, lofty palm trees share space with flowering gardens.”

More information on the World’s Most Romantic Retirement Havens can be found here: The World’s Most Romantic Retirement Havens

Source: InternationalLiving.com.

[perfectlyelectronicprincess-blog]

<h1>A Distinct Sort Of Jury Duty</h1>

Prepare to deliver death from every angle as you master your abilities and compete in unprecedented gravity-defying-combat. Dealing with the Hog Rider deck will be fair sufficient by dropping your Cannon in the center of your base. According to Metro , if the players are fond of making use of Zap to defend themselves in Clash Royale, then they have to use Mirror card to double the attack.

Click on the hyperlink and generate unlimited Gems and Gold for Clash Royale game employing this Clash Royale Hack and generator. Usually lessons will take place at your clan, or a clan that we make for the purposes of the lesson. Bienvenue, les gars et les filles à notre Astuce Clash Royale que vous pouvez utiliser pour obtenir des pierres précieuses gratuites et de l'or dès maintenant.

All of them would tell you that gem generators are fake, not to save your time but to discourage you from getting an edge and employing their secret weapon! Like Freeze, Clone, Goblin Barrel and Graveyard, these cards take talent to use and can't just be plonked down.

This could spell disastrous if those are the only two units out on the field for you, and you happen to be left recuperating your Elixir from zero afterwards. You happen to be going to want to go into each deck that has guide information and read by way of it to see if you can get a better notion of what how other players are utilizing that deck.

Of course, there are still disadvantages or specializing in 1 deck. Like Spy_Watch , the gameplay here occurs by means of notifications, with prompts for you to influence the game by interacting with stranded astronaut character Taylor. Play your defensive cards on the space in between your two towers.

The more acquisitive mobile incumbents will begin seeking to bolster their pipelines by snapping up younger, profitable studios in essential hubs about Europe, and with the Supercell/Tencent and King/Activision offers wrapped up, I consider we'll see them engage in the M&A markets a lot more readily in 2017.

Vous pourrez enfin créer les deck les plus puissant, ce que vous avez toujours voulu. She has the very same harm per hit as a Miner of equal level except she does not do lowered harm to crown towers and this harm is doubled when she's dashing. Dès le premier démarrage, elle vous proposera de cloner certaines applications déjà présentes sur votre appareil Android, Clash Royale en fera partie.

Whilst producing individual units trivial in such huge numbers, Skeletons are a ‘multi talented' bunch p course of action, Lots of wers will also disappear overtime without any work on your part. Ceci est en fait la justification en tant que nouveau joueur vous évidemment être sur la mission régulière pour Clash Royale diamants gratuits.

Mobile gaming revenues from these two companies alone reached $7.7 billion in 2016. Profitez gratuitement vos Clash Royale gemmes et de l'or! Also, remember that a meta response card could extremely well be a win condition itself! In July 2016, Supercell introduced a new Tournament function.

A challenge deck must also make positive to not just drop to a particular archetype whilst it isnt too bad if your ladder deck does because you dont drop out on rewards if you lose 3 instances in a row. Il y a e nombreux joueurs déçu qui ont essayé de centaines de triches sans recevoir aucune chose.

Ceux qui ont mar des géant royal jouer la tour a bombe ceux qui on mar des cancers d'élite jouer tour a bombe ou bouliste que vous me faite rire avec vos TDE si facilement contrable un seul zap et sa sert a rien ! Pour prendre un bon départ, il est conseillé d'avoir une carte antiaérienne, un sort, une AOE, un tank, une unité à bas coût et un bâtiment défensif.

For sophisticated players, the use of the prince tactics” could come in handy. Summer time of 2v2 is coming with all new 2v2 game modes! Riding on the coattails of Clash of Clans, it's a tower defence game meets card game in a smartphone app. No, do not swap out your musketeer due to the fact its range is wonderful.

For instance, if you are an aggressive player, then get units that can move as rapidly. This waiting period can be shortened employing gems that can also be found in treasure chests. Ces derniers peuvent s'obtenir aux combats ainsi que dans le magasin. Attempt not to put the most essential step, manage what your opponent.

GameStats's abuse detection analyzes each and every user's score information to detect if a user has an abnormally higher click rate” and hence an abnormally high score. Bref faut payé arriver à un niveau élevé pour s en sortir parce que des cartes violette on ne peut pas en monter bcp d un coup.

The objective of the game is to use the deck that you have to do harm against an opponent's towers and sooner or later knocking the king of his big tower whilst generating certain GOOGLY that your towers take no harm. A timestamp that records when the particular instance of play occurred-this is the event time for each and every game information occasion.

What I discover operates even much better is, if you use fire spirits and you pre-emptively drop them they will either get insane value or suicide into some thing damaging it. Fire spirits are really worth it because MOST individuals counter princess at the bridge with either minions, goblins, spear goblins, skeles, and so on.

Some players choose to rush an attack and we have to agree that at times it does perform out, but there are numerous occasions when they fail truly difficult since of being so aggressive. Mini Dragons - this is a single of my preferred cards no matter what deck I'm playing, as it operates well as defense and offense.

Starting a new clan from scratch cost Gold, but becoming portion of a clan currently formed at the start off will assist you achieve new cards and encounter faster in the beginning. Your linking to any other off-web site pages or other websites is at your own danger.

It was cold, slightly cloudy and the ocean felt magical and reassuring. Il est disponible sur les deux plateformes majores mobile: Android et Ios. The GameStats pipeline tracks a list of spam” users and filters these users out of the team score calculations for the team leader board.

As soon as you verify your account, you will be able to develop playful, engaging content. L'or est surtout utilisé pour la mise à niveau et l'achat de cartes et la recherche de batailles multijoueur. gogle.com 's fairly considerably it. Now that you know how fascinating these games can be, download them now!

In addition, you are going to want to preserve an eye out for the players you have discovered on Television Royale inside the Clash Royale app. Hierbei handelt es sich allerdings in der Regel um betrügerische Angebote, die euch in eine teure Abofalle locken wollen.

De plus, il devient plus difficile de mettre à jour vos cartes alors que vous progressez. Pick Mix of Air and Grounds Cards: The air attack is likely to advantage you more than anything else. Die Spiele-App wird kostenlos im Google Play Store für Android und iTunes-App-Shop für iPhone und iPad angeboten.

Soon after destroying your initial tower, you will most most likely feel the urge to push for the win right away. Because matchmaking in the game pits players against other individuals who are much more or less in the same level and card strength, the approach now lies in how nicely a player can use the cards.

De notre côté, on aime bien taquiner l'adversaire à l'aide d'un sort de gel et d'un chevaucheur de cochon. Nowadays there is a large range of games accessible for smartphones and tablets. Vous avez juste à aller sur le web site, entrer votre pseudo, sélectionner le nombre de gemmes et d'or désiré et nous les générerons pour vous.

[instantdeerlover]

A Guide To Miami’s “Super Cute Reasonably Priced Restaurants To Catch Up With A Few Friends” added to Google Docs

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The Infatuation is built on the idea of “Perfect For” categories, catering to your specific restaurant needs and situations. Date night? Birthday dinner with friends? Your college roommate from FSU is finally coming to Miami and has an excel spreadsheet worth of allergies? We can handle it.

But sometimes, there are situations that just don’t fit into a concise, predetermined category. And there is one such genre of restaurant we keep hearing about over and over again - at parties, in group texts, or in crowded ride-shares when we accidentally click the “pool” option. It’s what we’ve come to call the “Super Cute Reasonably Priced Restaurant To Catch Up With A Few Friends” (SCRPRTCUWFF). In general, SCRPRTCUWFFs are:

Somewhat quiet.

But not boring.

Relatively small.

With entrees mostly under $20 (or the equivalent).

The option to drink either booze or caffeine.

You have our list - now go ahead and plan that Wednesday night dinner.

the spots  Gabriel Matarazz Terras at Life House Little Havana $ $ $ $ Latin  in  Little Havana $$$$ 528 SW 9th Ave Not

Rated

Yet

This rooftop spot in Little Havana will make whoever you’re catching up with think, “Huh, this person got about 40 percent cooler since I last saw them.” Terras is an all-around great spot. The cocktails are very good, the food menu is small but tasty (especially the heart of palm salad), and the view of the Downtown skyline is the perfect backdrop for casually mentioning how you got invited to Rick Ross’ birthday party.

 Tasty Planet Soya E Pomodoro $ $ $ $ Pasta ,  Italian  in  Downtown $$$$ 120 NE 1st St 8.0 /10

Soya E Pomodoro looks like it burrowed into the side of a Downtown office building like a hibernating bear, marking its territory with dozens of slightly random paintings and pictures. But this pasta cave is ultimately way more charming than the layer of a fat, sleeping grizzly. They also host live jazz Thu-Sat, serve a pear and cheese-stuffed pasta we love (the fazzoletti di formaggio e pera), and have an atmosphere comfortable enough for you to finally admit to your old roommate that it was you who was stealing their laundry detergent.

 Tasty Planet Ironside Kitchen Pizza & Coffee Co $ $ $ $ Pizza ,  Italian  in  Little River $$$$ 7580 NE 4th Ct 8.0 /10

For a slightly classier alternative to staying in, drinking wine, and ordering pizza, go to Ironside. Here, you can still bring your own bottle of wine (they’re BYOB), sit outside in a pretty courtyard, and eat much better pizza than you would have if you called that chain down the street (the pasta isn’t a bad choice either). This place works great for both parties of two and 12, so bring everyone you’ve canceled plans with in the last six months.

 Tasty Planet Pinch Kitchen $ $ $ $ American ,  Latin ,  Burgers  in  Upper East Side $$$$ 8601 Biscayne Blvd 8.6 /10

Pinch is a quieter option if you want to hear every detail about what’s been going on with your most dramatic friend, who recently flew back from an unexpected seven month vacation on an island you can’t pronounce. But even if that story isn’t as thrilling as you hoped, the food will make up for it. There’s nothing too crazy on the menu at this Upper East Side spot - they just do simple food fantastically. And the burger, wagyu vacio, and gambas al ajillo will make you look like you’re incredibly interested, even if the story is a complete let down.

 Orilla Bar & Grill $ $ $ $ Argentinian  in  South Beach ,  South of Fifth $$$$ 426 Euclid Ave Not

Rated

Yet

There’s a lot we like about Orilla, even before the food hits the table. The dining room’s dark color scheme and lack of an outer wall make it feel like you’re eating outside even though there’s a roof above your head. It’s the perfect size between “so big that you’re forced to contemplate your insignificance in this universe” and “so small that you’re scared the entire restaurant is going to hear you tell that embarrassing story of how you almost started a fire in your kitchen three months ago.” And, despite being in South of Fifth, a lot of delicious things - like the jumbo prawn, grilled sausage, and free-range chicken - are well below $20. Luckily, when the mostly Argentinian food does arrive, it just gives you more to like about this place.

Sorry—looks like you screwed up that email address

INFATUATION NEWSLETTER Get our newest guides & reviews first,

plus more restaurant intel you won't find anywhere else. ATL ATX BOS CHI LDN LA MIA NYC PHL SF SEA DC Subscribe Smart move. Excellent information will arrive in your inbox soon. Do you have friends and family who also eat food? Enter their emails below and we’ll make sure they’re eating well. (Don’t worry, we won’t subscribe them to our newsletter - they can do that themselves.) Help Your Friends No Thanks Well done. You’re a good person. All good. We still like you. Want to quickly find restaurants on the go? Download The Infatuation app.    Tasty Planet Taquiza North Beach $ $ $ $ Mexican  in  Miami Beach $$$$ 7450 Ocean Terrace 8.2 /10

If you’d like to chat over tacos and margaritas, Taquiza is the best place to do it. Though we’re going to suggest the North Beach location over the busier and often louder South Beach location for the purpose of this guide. The North Beach taco shop is a little more intimate and has an ocean breeze if you sit outside, but still serves the same great tacos and - more importantly - the totopos, which are the Michael Jordan of tortilla chips.

 Merritt Smail Shore To Door Fish Market $ $ $ $ Seafood  in  Coconut Grove $$$$ 3380 Douglas Rd Not

Rated

Yet

This Coconut Grove seafood market/restaurant is a perfect place for you and anywhere from two to eight friends to spread out, drink beer, and politely try not to eat all the conch salad while someone tells a very long story summing up the last year of their life. Shore To Door serves a rotating menu of local fish from Wed-Sun, and whether you stop by when they have smoked fish dip, whole fried snapper, or conch salad, it’s going to be excellent. Beer is in the cooler, and you can help yourself.

 Emily Schindler Boia De $ $ $ $ American ,  Italian  in  Buena Vista $$$$ 5205 NE 2nd Ave 8.8 /10

Most things here are under $20, so we still consider Boia De reasonable - especially considering the great food you’ll be getting here - but it is one of the pricier options on this guide. It’s also unquestionably one of the cutest restaurants in Miami. Whether you’re sitting at the bar or at a table in this tiny Little Haiti spot, you’ll have some sort of wallpaper or design to stare at while you drink natural wine and split beef tartare and duck prosciutto tortellini.

 Emily Schindler Jaguar Sun $ $ $ $ American ,  Pasta  in  Downtown $$$$ 230 NE 4th St 8.6 /10

If that person you made vague plans to have dinner with at that party three weeks ago just texted you with a very last-minute request to hang out, head to Jaguar Sun’s bar, drink cocktails, and - at the very least - order the blue crab agnolotti. But if you’ve got a couple of days warning, then grab a reservation, sit in the adjacent dining room, and make this more of a formal dinner. Everything at this Downtown spot is good - especially the pasta - and the cocktails are perfectly balanced yet very boozy, which should help recreate the atmosphere that made you two want to hang out in the first place.

 All Day $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery ,  Brunch  in  Downtown $$$$ 1035 N Miami Ave 8.6 /10

Hit up All Day if you need something earlier than dinner. The Downtown coffee shop works for anything from an 8am breakfast to a 3pm lunch - but whenever you come, coffee should absolutely be involved. So should an order of croquetas and the Runny & Everything, which is their version of a bacon, egg, and cheese. This is a casual, seat yourself kind of spot (at least during the week), so you won’t feel rushed out the door if you want to stay and chat a little longer than planned.

 Beaker & Gray $ $ $ $ American  in  Wynwood $$$$ 2637 N Miami Ave 8.2 /10

If the person you haven’t spoken to in 13 months insists on having dinner with you in Wynwood, Beaker and Gray is your only safe bet. This place, unlike 93 percent of the neighborhood, won’t be a huge headache. Instead, the reliable restaurant is going to serve very good cocktails, cheeseburger croquettes, chicken wings, and more small plates that are easy to share. It’s formal enough to make it seem like you put some thought into the occasion, but still relaxed enough to keep all parties from feeling too much pressure to brag about how their new job has unlimited vacation days.

 Emily Schindler Balloo $ $ $ $ Chinese ,  Indian ,  Caribbean  in  Downtown $$$$ 19 SE 2nd Ave #4 Not

Rated

Yet

Downtown’s Balloo might be a better choice if you’re only catching up with one or two friends because it’s quite small. But as long as you’ve got a party that can fit, we really love this place. Not only is the rotating Indian/Trinidadian/Caribbean/Chinese menu unlike anything we’ve encountered in Miami, but it’s also delicious. Dishes like spam fried rice and cheung fun also go great with their spicy Thai micheladas, which we usually order at least twice per visit.

 Doce Provisions $ $ $ $ Cuban  in  Little Havana $$$$ 541 SW 12th Ave Not

Rated

Yet

This place might not feel super cute inside, but what the dining room lacks in super cuteness, the outdoor tables make up for. So, in case it wasn’t clear, sit outside - especially at night, when the string lights are all lit up. The small menu at the Little Havana spot is Cuban fusion, but we like to stick to the slightly more recognizable food over the more experimental stuff - like the crispy brussels sprouts, fried chicken with plantain waffles, and chorizo croquettes.

 Emily Schindler Lokal Burgers & Beer $ $ $ $ Burgers  in  Coconut Grove $$$$ 3190 Commodore Plz 8.4 /10

Even though we love grabbing beers and burgers with a friend at Kush, its older sister in Coconut Grove is a little more spacious and a slightly easier place to get a table - especially if the person you’re eating with never leaves the house without their seven-pound chihuahua. Come to Lokal if you’d like to catch up over some of Miami’s best burgers while you drink beer and stare at the many dogs lying down under the tables. You might want to come with people you’re slightly more comfortable with, though, because you’ll be eating a lot and there is a 40 percent chance you get honey mustard on your face.

 Verde at Pérez Art Museum Miami $ $ $ $ American ,  Pizza ,  Brunch  in  Downtown $$$$ 1103 Biscayne Blvd 7.6 /10

This restaurant in the back of PAMM is easily in our top three places to eat and stare at the water. They’re open for brunch and lunch (and dinner only on Thursday), but you want to come here when the sun is out anyway. The view is better than the food, which includes salads, sandwiches, and pizza that’ll do the trick while you and your buds reminisce over that time you all tried to start a t-shirt company. Just hold out for an outdoor table, even if there’s a wait.

via The Infatuation Feed https://www.theinfatuation.com/miami/guides/cute-casual-restaurants Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://trello.com/userhuongsen

Created March 4, 2020 at 01:37AM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

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The 15 Best Pizza Places In Miami added to Google Docs

The 15 Best Pizza Places In Miami

We’ve eaten a concerning number of slices and pies to bring you our guide to the very best pizza Miami has to offer. And there is a lot to offer, despite what the annoying New Yorker or Chicagoan in your life has to say about us and our pizza. This guide includes neighborhood favorites, excellent slices in the back of a bar, and some flavor combinations you’ll only find in Miami.

You should know that these rankings only apply to the individual pizzas - it’s not a ranking of the restaurants on the whole (look at the ratings for a better idea of that). Now that we’ve provided this disclaimer, go read about (and eat) some incredible pizza.

the spots 1  Cleveland Jennings Mister 01 $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  South Beach $$$$ 1680 Michigan Ave Ste 101 8.3 /10

Inside an office building just off Lincoln Road is Mister 01, a tiny spot serving pizzas that sound (and sometimes look) a bit strange. But these pies are the best in Miami. The crust is thin - but not too thin - and is foldable yet crispy enough to hear an audible crunch when you take a bite. It’s the odd yet delicious toppings, though, that earn Mister 01 its number one spot. The coffee paolo has mozzarella, gorgonzola, honey, coffee, and spicy salami - and it sent us into a temporary state of confusion before winning us over. The star luca pie has perfectly contained little pockets of hot ricotta cheese in its folded crust. And the rest of the pizzas under the “extraordinary pizza” chunk of the menu are what you should stick to, even if they sound a little out there.

2  Emily Schindler Lucali $ $ $ $ Pizza ,  Italian  in  South Beach ,  Sunset Harbour $$$$ 1930 Bay Rd 8.5 /10

Lucali is a place with a very big reputation thanks to the original location in Brooklyn, where people wait more than three hours for a table. The wait for the South Beach location is considerably less miserable (it could be as low as 15 minutes on a slow weekday), but the pizza is still incredibly good. They serve only one size pie here - which should be plenty for two - and it tastes like a thin-crust pizza and a classic New York slice had a baby, and then that baby got its master’s degree in tasting good. If you just hate waiting any amount of time for your pizza, you can usually walk right in at 1pm on Friday when they open for lunch.

3  Katie Burton Stanzione 87 $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  Brickell $$$$ 87 SW 8th St 8.2 /10

A bottle of wine and a pizza from Stanzione is like winning $100 on a scratch-off or finding out the kid who used to bully you in high school got attacked by a swarm of bees - it will always make our day better, no matter how bad it’s been. This is mostly because the simple Italian restaurant in Brickell serves a selection of red and white pizza with perfectly blistered crust and soft dough that never gets soggy. If you want something a little heavy, try the carbonara pizza with cream, mozzarella, crispy pancetta, and egg yolk. If you’re on a date and need something lighter, the lemon and burrata pizza goes great with a bottle of rosé. But no matter what you get, you’ll walk out of here feeling 300 percent better.

4  Tasty Planet Frankie's Pizza $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  Bird Road $$$$ 9118 SW 40th St 8.0 /10

The retro sign for Frankie’s has been hanging over Bird Road since 1955, and people have loved the square pizzas here ever since. The slices are thinner and crispier than similar square pizzas you’ll find in Detroit or the Northeast - but the corner slices still have those perfect edges with delicious little burnt bits. A lot of people take them to-go, and this place also sells “half-baked” pies in case you want to finish yours in the oven at home. But it’s going to taste better if you eat it hot and fresh at one of their outdoor tables in the back.

5  Tasty Planet 'O Munaciello $ $ $ $ Pizza ,  Italian  in  MiMo $$$$ 6425 Biscayne Boulevard 7.6 /10

’O Munaciello is a strange looking restaurant with a massive angel hanging in the dining room, a fairly large diorama of an Italian village in the corner, and a domed ceiling that makes you feel like you’re in some sort of place of worship. But they also serve one of Miami’s best Neapolitan pizzas, and you will indeed be worshipping the cornicione di ricotta when you discover its crust is stuffed with ricotta.

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plus more restaurant intel you won't find anywhere else. ATL ATX BOS CHI LDN LA MIA NYC PHL SF SEA DC Subscribe Smart move. Excellent information will arrive in your inbox soon. Do you have friends and family who also eat food? Enter their emails below and we’ll make sure they’re eating well. (Don’t worry, we won’t subscribe them to our newsletter - they can do that themselves.) Help Your Friends No Thanks Well done. You’re a good person. All good. We still like you. Want to quickly find restaurants on the go? Download The Infatuation app.   6  Tasty Planet Andiamo Brick Oven Pizza $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  MiMo $$$$ 5600 Biscayne Blvd 8.1 /10

If you can’t stand when a pizza collapses if it has more than three toppings, try Andiamo’s Sunday pie. It’s got meatballs, ricotta, pepperoncini, parmesan, and has a sturdy dough that holds it all up easier than Shaquille O’Neal lifting a toddler. But even if you’re not looking for a pizza that’s supporting a small Italian deli, the basic pepperoni is still very tasty. We also love eating here because they have some underrated outdoor seating and we’ve never had to wait for a table.

7  Tasty Planet Pizza Tropical $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  Wynwood $$$$ 176 NW 24th St Not

Rated

Yet

This little pizza stand in the backyard of Gramps in Wynwood makes the best New York-style pizza you can find in Miami. Sure, we always seem to crave it after four Moscow Mules, but this is a pizza you can easily enjoy even if you didn’t just do tequila shots at Wood. They have five varieties ranging from a square Abuelita’s pizza to La Hawaiian with pepperoni and caramelized pineapple. You can order them by the slice or as a pie if you’ve got three friends who are also under the influence of Gramps’ excellent Moscow Mules.

8  Tasty Planet La Piazzetta Pizzeria $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  Little Haiti $$$$ 5143 NE 2nd Ave Not

Rated

Yet

La Piazzetta’s very large menu feels like a yearbook for a high school full of pizzas - but one of those elite high schools with very gifted students who somehow always have perfect skin and grow up to run successful internet start-ups. There’s a lot to choose from at this casual spot on the border of Little Haiti, but we’ve enjoyed every one of the Neapolitan pies we’ve tasted. Whether you get the minimal piazza caserta with tomato sauce and dabs of buffalo mozzarella, or the slightly more complex diavola with an ideal amount of spicy salami, you’re going to be very happy.

9  Tasty Planet Ironside Kitchen Pizza & Coffee Co $ $ $ $ Pizza ,  Italian  in  Little River $$$$ 7580 NE 4th Ct 8.0 /10

One of our favorite low-stress meals in Miami is bringing a bottle of wine to this BYOB place and getting a pizza. We love doing this because we enjoy wine, sure, but also because Ironside’s pizzas are always great and just the perfect size to fill you up after you’ve consumed half a bottle of wine. The pies here are closer to Neapolitan in look and texture, but you don’t need a fork and knife to eat them - unless you’re trying to look falsely civilized in front of a date, which this place is also great for.

10  Tasty Planet Steve's Pizza $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  North Miami $$$$ 12010 Biscayne Blvd 8.2 /10

There are certain things you just don’t badmouth in Miami: Dwyane Wade, the various hits of early 2000s Slip-n-Slide Records, and Steve’s Pizza. It’s one of those places locals cherish deeply, and the appeal of Steve’s is probably due to some combination of nostalgia and their very tasty New York-style slices. You can come to the little North Miami spot for just a slice or a whole pizza - just don’t go spouting any controversial hot takes about how it’s overrated unless you’re ready to defend yourself.

11 Harry's Pizzeria $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  Coconut Grove $$$$ 2996 McFarlane Rd 7.7 /10

There are two Harry’s in Miami - one just outside the Design District and another in Coconut Grove. Both are safe bets anytime you’re craving a soft, chewy pizza in an atmosphere nice enough to bring someone you like or your parents. We really enjoy the BLT pizza, which has bacon chunks, onion, and a sweet and spicy tomato sauce. Also, we know it’s not pizza, but their chocolate cookie comes to the table all warm and gooey, so maybe save a cookie’s worth of room.

12  Tasty Planet La Leggenda Pizzeria $ $ $ $ Pizza ,  Italian  in  South Beach $$$$ 224 Espanola Way Not

Rated

Yet

La Leggenda is in a part of South Beach where your food options are severely limited, but this place is not like the touristy spots you’ll find across the street on Española Way. It’s actually good - especially their Neapolitan pizzas. They don’t overcomplicate things here: the dough is tender, the cheese-to-sauce ratio is on point, and we never expected to have such a pleasant meal so close to a Señor Frog’s.

13  Upland $ $ $ $ American ,  Pizza ,  Pasta  in  Miami Beach ,  South Beach ,  South of Fifth $$$$ 49 Collins Ave 7.9 /10

Pizza isn’t the only option on Upland’s menu, but it is one of the best things to get - which is fitting since their original location is in New York City. They make about six different pizzas, but our favorite is the clam pie. The clams add a little brininess the same way anchovies can on some pizza - and the mozzarella and pecorino go great with the salty clams.

14  The Alley $ $ $ $ Pizza ,  Pasta ,  Italian  in  South Beach $$$$ 1433 Collins Ave 7.5 /10

Not only is The Alley just about the only place you should ever consider going to on Ocean Drive, but they also serve very good pizza. It’s soft with a nicely charred crust, and the topping options are also really solid. The finocchio e salsiccia (fennel sausage, shishito, and red onion) and the Boucher (smoked prosciutto and mozzarella) are two of the only reasons to venture towards this tasteless strip of South Beach.

15  DC Pie Co. $ $ $ $ Pizza  in  Brickell $$$$ 1010 Brickell Ave Not

Rated

Yet

We have complicated feelings about DC Pie. This place really feels like Lucali if it started hanging out with South Beach promoters and spent a lot of time at E11even. And the menu is nearly identical, so we can’t help but expect Lucali when we come here. You don’t get that though. Instead, you get a pizza that’s doing a mediocre Lucali impression. But Lucali is so good that even if you divided its quality in half, you’d still get one of the best pizzas in Miami. It’s not even our favorite pizza spot in Brickell (that honor goes to Stanzione 87, but it’s worth a visit for a quick lunch or weekday dinner.

via The Infatuation Feed https://www.theinfatuation.com/miami/guides/best-pizza-miami Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://trello.com/userhuongsen

Created February 20, 2020 at 03:08AM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF