#during his time in the walls he was free to pursue his own interests

[mpregtales]

Leo & Nate Part 1

Leo had always found solace in the rhythm of New York City. The hum of the metropolis, with its ceaseless energy and eclectic mix of souls, was the perfect backdrop for his life. At 23, he had carved out a space for himself in Brooklyn, where he could pursue his passion for music. Dark brown hair curled just above his ears, and a light dusting of facial hair accentuated his sharp features. With an athletic build, Leo was the embodiment of a modern rock musician—his electric guitar slung effortlessly over his shoulder, his fingers dancing across the strings with a fervor that spoke of years spent practicing in secret, away from the disapproving eyes of his parents in rural Connecticut.

Music had always been Leo’s escape. It began with a single concert—The Rolling Stones' Live Licks tour at Madison Square Garden. His Uncle Jack, a Wall Street financier with a penchant for rock and roll, had taken him to the show. The energy, the crowd, the sheer power of the music—it was intoxicating. Leo was just a boy then, but from that moment on, he knew he was meant for something different. He threw himself into learning music, teaching himself to play the guitar, immersing himself in the history of rock legends, and dreaming of one day making a name for himself in the music world.

But Leo’s parents had other plans. They were not religious but held firmly to socially conservative values. They envisioned a traditional life for him—college, a stable job, a wife, and children. But Leo couldn’t reconcile their expectations with his own dreams. Growing up, he was always more mature than his peers, with interests that set him apart. By the time he reached high school, it became clear to him that he was different in more ways than one. When he came out as gay during his senior year, the fragile peace between him and his parents shattered. Their disappointment was palpable, and the friction that had been building for years finally reached a breaking point. Leo’s parents pushed him out of the house, unable to accept the life he wanted to lead.

Leo found refuge with Uncle Jack and his family in New York City. Jack lived with his wife, Kay, and their two daughters, Denise and Ash, in a spacious apartment in Manhattan. They welcomed Leo with open arms, providing the support he desperately needed. Jack even got Leo a job in his office, but the world of finance wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to be a burden on Jack’s family, even though they insisted he was welcome to stay as long as he needed. After a few months, Leo saved enough money to rent a small apartment in Brooklyn. It was modest, but it was his—a space where he could be himself, free from the constraints of his parents’ expectations.

Leo stayed close to Uncle Jack’s family, visiting them often, and relishing the stability they provided. But his heart was in his music. In Brooklyn, he found a community of like-minded souls, people who shared his passion for rock and roll. He started a band with some friends—guys who, like him, had day jobs to pay the bills but lived for the nights when they could take the stage and lose themselves in the music. They played in clubs around the city, making just enough money to keep the dream alive. Leo was the lead guitarist, and though he didn’t sing much, his occasional vocals were raw and powerful, a reflection of the emotions he poured into every note. Most Fridays, you could find Leo and his bandmates on stage, giving it their all before returning to the 9-to-5 grind the following week.

Nate, on the other hand, had taken a different path to the city. At 25, he was a gifted artist with a natural talent for painting. Tall, blonde, and with an athletic build, Nate had an air of quiet intensity about him. His life had been marked by loss and longing—growing up in foster care after his teenage parents gave him up, Nate never quite felt like he belonged. His birth parents were two kids themselves, too young and too overwhelmed to raise a child. They put Nate up for adoption, but he was never chosen. Instead, he bounced from one foster family to another, never staying long enough to feel at home.

The closest thing Nate had to a real family was Linda and Jeffrey, an older couple in California who fostered him from ages eight to thirteen. They were avid collectors of art, their home filled with paintings that fascinated Nate. Linda and Jeffrey recognized his talent early on and nurtured it, paying for art classes and encouraging him to pursue his passion. Nate loved them dearly, and they loved him back. He felt safe with them, and for the first time, he believed he had found a place where he truly belonged. They even planned to adopt him, and Nate couldn’t have been happier.

But fate had other plans. One day, while Linda and Jeffrey were out running errands, their car was hit by a semi-truck. Jeffrey was killed instantly, and Linda was left in critical condition. Nate spent days at the hospital, praying for her recovery, but she passed away soon after. The loss shattered him, and his world fell apart. He was sent to another foster family—his last before he aged out of the system. But this family was nothing like Linda and Jeffrey. They were abusive, both emotionally and physically, leaving Nate with scars that ran deep.

Despite the hardships, Nate’s talent for painting never wavered. He earned a full scholarship to an art school in New York, a chance to start over in a city that promised opportunity and anonymity. The transition was tough, and Nate often felt alone, but he found solace in his art. He threw himself into his work, and his paintings began to gain attention. Nate managed to sell a few pieces, and with the money he made, he rented his own apartment in Brooklyn. Slowly, he built a new life for himself, making friends at art school and developing a small but loyal clientele for his work.

Nate was bisexual, having dated both men and women during his time at art school. He was still figuring out who he was, still searching for the connection that had eluded him for so long. And then, one Friday night, everything changed.

It was a typical Friday night at The Velvet Knot, a small but popular venue in Manhattan where Leo’s band was performing. The joint was packed, the air thick with the smell of beer and the sound of clinking glasses. Leo was in his element, strumming his guitar and backing up the lead singer, who was already a few drinks too deep. The bassist, Tony, had recently met a girl named Sarah and invited her to the show. She didn’t want to go alone, so she brought her best friend, Nate, along for the ride.

Nate wasn’t sure what to expect. He had planned to stay in and finish a painting, but Sarah had convinced him to come out for a drink. He didn’t know anyone else in the group, and when they arrived at the venue, he felt a little out of place. But as soon as the band started playing, his attention was drawn to the stage—and to Leo. There was something about the way Leo played, the way he moved, that captivated Nate. He felt a flutter in his chest, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

The band’s lead singer, Rick, was the classic frontman—charismatic, with a voice that could command a room and a personality to match. Rick was known for living life on the edge, and his turbulent love life was a constant source of gossip among their circle. That night at The Velvet Knot, Rick was in rare form, downing shots between songs like a man on a mission. His girlfriend, Claire, had just broken up with him, and it wasn’t the first time. The band had a running joke that Rick and Claire were as stable as a house of cards in a crossfire hurricane. Their on-again, off-again relationship was a rollercoaster, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before it would crash for good. But Rick, ever the hopeless romantic, refused to see it that way.

As the band played through their set, it became clear that Rick was struggling. His voice began to slur, his words becoming less coherent with each song. By the time they finished a cover of Led Zeppelin’s “Rock and Roll,” it was obvious they couldn’t continue with him on lead vocals. Leo exchanged a knowing look with Tony, their bassist, and Mark, their drummer. They needed to finish the gig to get paid, and there was only one solution.

“Leo, you gotta take over,” Tony said, his voice low but urgent. “Rick’s done for the night.”

Leo hesitated. He wasn’t used to being in the spotlight, but he knew there was no other option. “Alright,” he nodded, picking up the mic. “Let’s do this.”

As Leo stepped forward, the crowd’s energy shifted. He launched into a cover of The Rolling Stones’ “Happy,” his voice strong and clear. The audience responded immediately, the room buzzing with excitement. And then, in the middle of the chorus, Leo’s eyes swept over the crowd and locked with Nate’s. It was only a brief moment, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through both of them.

The set continued with more Rolling Stones covers—“Honky Tonk Women,” “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” and a few others. By the time the band finished, the crowd was buzzing with excitement. As the music faded and the lights dimmed, Leo and the band joined their friends in the audience. Sarah introduced Nate to the group, and when she introduced him to Leo, there was a moment of awkwardness, followed by a shared smile.

When the set ended, the band joined their friends in the audience. Sarah introduced Nate to the group, and when she introduced him to Leo, there was a moment of awkwardness, followed by a shared smile.

“Nice set,” Nate said, trying to keep his cool, though his heart was pounding in his chest.

“Thanks,” Leo replied, his eyes lingering on Nate a little longer than necessary. “Glad you could make it.”

“So, what’s the deal with your lead singer?” Nate asked, glancing over at Rick, who was now slumped over a table, a drink still in hand.

Leo chuckled, shaking his head. “Rick’s going through a rough patch—again. He and his girlfriend just broke up, for what, the tenth time? We keep telling him it’s not gonna last, but he’s stubborn.”

“Sounds like a mess,” Nate said with a grin. “But you handled it well. I’ve never heard anyone cover ‘Happy’ like that.”

Leo’s smile widened, a hint of pride in his expression. “Thanks. I’m usually more comfortable behind the guitar, but sometimes you just have to step up, you know?”

“I get that,” Nate nodded, feeling a connection forming between them. “I’m the same way with my art. I’m a painter, and sometimes I feel like the canvas is my shield. But there are moments when you have to put yourself out there, be vulnerable.”

Leo’s interest piqued. “A painter? That’s awesome. I’ve always admired artists—takes a lot of guts to put your work out there for everyone to see.”

“It’s not always easy,” Nate admitted. “But it’s what I love. Just like you and music.”

They continued talking, the conversation flowing naturally between them. Leo was struck by Nate’s quiet intensity, the way he spoke about art and life with such passion. Nate, in turn, was drawn to Leo’s charisma, his warmth, and the depth he sensed behind those hazel eyes. As the night went on, they found themselves gravitating toward each other, sharing stories of their pasts, their struggles, and their dreams for the future.

By the end of the night, they had exchanged numbers, both secretly hoping this was the start of something more. As it turned out, their Brooklyn apartments were just three stops away from each other on the F train. The following week, they met for coffee at a small café near Nate’s studio. What was meant to be a quick drink turned into hours of conversation. They talked about everything—music, art, their pasts, their dreams for the future.

On that first date, Nate found himself captivated by Leo’s stories. Leo’s journey from a small town in Connecticut to the vibrant streets of New York fascinated Nate. He admired how Leo had stayed true to himself despite the obstacles he faced—the rejection from his parents, the struggle to make a life for himself in a city that could be as unforgiving as it was inspiring. Leo, in turn, was fascinated by Nate’s resilience. Growing up in foster care, losing the closest thing he had to a family, and still managing to find his way to New York, to pursue his art—Nate was a survivor, and Leo admired that deeply.

As they got to know each other better, their feelings for each other grew. Leo loved how Nate’s mind worked, how he could see the world in ways that others couldn’t. Nate’s art was an extension of himself—each painting a reflection of his experiences, his emotions, his view of the world. And Nate loved how Leo brought music to life, how he could take a simple melody and turn it into something powerful and moving. They found that their artistic passions were more than just hobbies—they were the core of who they were, and they understood that about each other in a way that few others could.

Their personalities complemented each other perfectly. Leo was the spark—energetic, spontaneous, always ready to take on the world. Nate was the steady flame—calm, introspective, providing a balance to Leo’s fiery spirit. Together, they brought out the best in each other. Nate helped Leo see the beauty in the quiet moments, in the details of life that could be easily overlooked. And Leo encouraged Nate to take risks, to step out of his comfort zone and embrace the unpredictability of life.

Over the next few months, they spent more and more time together. They explored the city, visiting art galleries, catching live performances, and sharing meals at little-known restaurants that became their favorites. They found joy in the simple things—taking long walks through Central Park, staying up late talking about their dreams, and just being in each other’s company. The more they learned about each other, the deeper their connection grew.

One evening, after a particularly long day at work, Leo found his thoughts drifting to Nate. Over the past few months, their connection had deepened in ways he hadn’t expected. Nate wasn’t just someone he enjoyed spending time with—he was someone he could see a future with. The thought both thrilled and scared him, but more than anything, it felt right. That night, Nate had invited Leo over to his apartment for dinner, a quiet evening in after a hectic week. Leo had eagerly accepted, looking forward to the comfort of Nate’s presence.

Nate’s apartment was a reflection of his artistic spirit—filled with light, color, and the subtle scent of oil paints. The walls were adorned with his artwork, a mix of finished pieces and canvases still in progress. It was a space that felt both lived-in and deeply personal, a sanctuary where Nate’s creativity flourished.

They shared a cozy meal of homemade pasta and red wine, the conversation flowing easily as always. After they finished eating, Nate suggested they move to his studio, where he had been working on some new pieces. Leo agreed, eager to see more of Nate’s world.

Nate led him into the studio, a large room at the back of the apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the soft glow of the city lights. The space was cluttered in a way that felt purposeful, with canvases propped against the walls, paintbrushes scattered on the tables, and a faint hum of music playing in the background. It was here that Nate spent most of his time, creating art that was as complex and layered as the man himself.

As they wandered through the room, Nate stopped in front of a particular painting, still a work in progress. The canvas was large, dominated by deep blues and greens, with strokes of vibrant yellow cutting through the darker shades. It was abstract, yet there was a sense of movement and emotion that drew Leo in.

“This one’s been on my mind a lot lately,” Nate said, his voice thoughtful as he gazed at the painting. “I’ve been trying to capture the feeling of... I don’t know, hope, maybe? Or the idea of finding light in the darkness.”

Leo studied the painting, feeling the weight of Nate’s words. “It’s beautiful, Nate. There’s so much energy in it, like it’s alive. I can feel what you’re trying to say through it.”

Nate turned to look at Leo, his eyes searching. “That’s what I love about art. It’s a way to express things that are hard to put into words. Like how we’ve both been through a lot, but we’ve found something good, something bright in each other.”

Leo felt his heart race as Nate’s words sank in. There was a vulnerability in the way Nate was looking at him, a raw honesty that matched what Leo was feeling. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Nate’s. Slowly, Nate reached out and caressed Leo’s face, his thumb brushing softly against Leo’s cheek.

“Nate,” Leo began, his voice soft but steady, “I know it’s only been a few months, but... I’m really glad we met. I feel like... I don’t know, like we just get each other, you know?”

Nate’s hand lingered on Leo’s face as he looked deeply into his eyes. “I feel the same way. I never expected to find someone like you—someone who understands what it’s like to go through what we’ve both been through, and still find joy in the world.”

There was a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken emotions, before Nate leaned in and pressed his lips to Leo’s. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both testing the waters. But as the seconds passed, it deepened, becoming more intense, more urgent. Leo’s hands found their way to Nate’s waist, pulling him closer as their kiss grew more passionate.

For both of them, the kiss was a confirmation of what they had been feeling for weeks—their emotions running deeper than they had allowed themselves to admit. Leo felt a rush of warmth spread through his chest, a sense of belonging that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He could feel Nate’s heartbeat against his own, the steady rhythm matching the excitement that was building between them.

When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Leo’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Nate’s gaze, which was filled with a mixture of affection and desire.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” Leo whispered, his voice barely audible. “It’s like... like everything makes sense when I’m with you.”

Nate smiled softly, his thumb tracing the outline of Leo’s jaw. “I know what you mean. It’s like we’ve been searching for something, and now we’ve found it.”

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other, before Nate gently guided Leo to the couch that was tucked into the corner of the studio. They sat down, still close, their legs brushing against each other. Leo’s hand found Nate’s, their fingers intertwining as they shared another kiss, this one slower, more tender.

As the passion between them intensified, Nate shifted closer, his free hand gliding up Leo’s back, pulling him in until their bodies were flush against each other. Leo responded eagerly, his hands exploring the firm contours of Nate’s chest, feeling the warmth radiate through the fabric of his shirt. Nate’s hands moved slowly, savoring the feel of Leo’s smooth, defined muscles beneath his fingertips. With a tender yet deliberate motion, Nate began to lift Leo’s shirt, revealing the toned lines of his chest and abdomen.

As the shirt slipped over Leo’s head, Nate paused to admire him, captivated by the way Leo’s lean physique complemented his own more muscular build. Leo’s body was like a masterpiece, every muscle sculpted and defined—almost as if he had stepped out of one of Nate’s paintings. The sight of Leo’s bare skin ignited something deep within Nate, a desire that surged through him with a force he had never felt before.

Leo, equally moved, reached for the hem of Nate’s shirt, gently pulling it upward to reveal the powerful expanse of his chest. When Nate’s shirt joined Leo’s on the floor, Leo’s hands roamed over Nate’s broad shoulders and chiseled pecs, his fingers tracing the lines of Nate’s muscles with a mixture of reverence and hunger. The closeness of their bodies, the feel of their bare skin pressed together, kindled a fire between them that was unlike anything either had ever experienced.

Their kisses grew more heated, more urgent, as the passion between them blazed into an uncontrollable fire. Nate’s hands traveled down Leo’s back, tracing the smooth curve of his spine before resting on the firm, rounded muscles of Leo’s buttocks. With deliberate slowness, Nate began to unbutton Leo’s jeans, his fingers brushing against the denim before sliding the fabric down over Leo’s hips. As he did, Leo’s hands settled on the taut, muscular contours of Nate’s glutes, gripping them with an appreciation that transcended mere physical attraction.

Leo had always taken pride in his athletic build, particularly the fullness of his glutes, which had drawn admiration from others in the past. But when Nate’s hands settled there, appreciating the strong, rounded muscles, it felt different—more intimate, more profound.

Breaking the kiss, Leo gasped for breath, his eyes locking with Nate’s, now darkened with desire. “You’re stunning, Leo,” Nate whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Like a Greek Adonis.”

Leo’s heart pounded at Nate’s words, the compliment sending a surge of heat through him. As the intensity between them deepened, Leo instinctively turned onto all fours. Slowly, he reached back, sliding his underwear down to reveal his smooth, fuzzy, muscular cheeks. With a deliberate arch of his back, he offered himself to Nate, his heart racing in his chest as a potent mix of anticipation and vulnerability coursed through him.

Nate took a moment to drink in the sight before him. Leo’s body was a masterpiece of strength and beauty, his glutes full and rounded, the muscles subtly flexing as he held himself steady. The combination of Leo’s athletic frame and the vulnerability of his position ignited a powerful wave of desire in Nate, stirring something deep and primal within him.

As the intensity of the moment grew, Nate’s hands trembled slightly while he began to unbutton his jeans, the anticipation thick in the air. Leo’s eyes widened, a mix of awe and anticipation shining in them as Nate slid off his underwear, revealing the impressive length and girth of his manhood. The sight sent a surge of raw, primal desire coursing through Leo, his heart pounding with longing.

Nate leaned forward, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses along the small of Leo’s back, savoring the feel of the smooth skin beneath them. His hands moved to gently caress Leo’s hips, tracing the contours of his cheeks with a reverent touch. Nate’s movements were slow, deliberate, building the anticipation between them as he lifted himself up with his strong arms, positioning himself over Leo.

With a playful smile, Nate tapped his hardened length against Leo’s right cheek, causing it to bounce slightly. The gesture sent a delicious ripple of desire through Leo, the sensation heightening the tension and deepening the connection between them.

Taking his time, Nate applied lubricant to his impressive length, ensuring every inch was slick and ready. With a gentle touch, he spread a cool layer of the lubricant over Leo’s entrance using his index finger, the sensation sending a shiver of anticipation through Leo’s body. A soft moan escaped Leo’s lips, his body instinctively responding to the care and intimacy of Nate’s touch.

Nate then carefully positioned himself between Leo’s cheeks, guiding the tip of his manhood to rest just at the entrance. Leo could feel the pressure of Nate’s bulbous head against the delicate folds of his skin, a sensation that made his heart race with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

As Nate began to press forward, the tip slowly breached Leo, who instinctively flexed his glutes to accommodate the initial intrusion. With each measured push, Nate eased himself deeper, the sensation of stretching and adjusting intense yet exhilarating for Leo. His hands clenched the sheets beneath him, gripping them tightly as he felt Nate fill him, inch by inch, until finally, Nate’s hips met the firm, rounded muscles of Leo’s cheeks, their bodies fully joined.

Both men let out deep, resonant moans, the pleasure they shared unlike anything Leo had ever experienced. As Nate leaned forward to place a tender kiss on the nape of Leo’s neck, they both reveled in the closeness and profound intimacy of the moment. Leo’s body was warm, inviting, and perfectly fitted to Nate, as though they were made for each other.

Nate began to move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his hands firmly gripping Leo’s hips as he found a pace that felt instinctual and deeply satisfying. With each movement, Leo surrendered more fully to the moment, the sensation of Nate inside him overwhelming in its intensity. The way their bodies moved in perfect harmony was almost too much to bear, a symphony of pleasure that built with every thrust.

As Nate gradually intensified his pace, Leo’s glutes responded with a rhythmic bounce, his cheeks reverberating with each powerful thrust. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, the pleasure within him building to a crescendo. Every thrust from Nate awakened a newfound, electrifying need in Leo, driving them both closer to the edge, united in a moment of pure, unrestrained passion.

Nate’s grip on Leo’s hips tightened, his fingers digging into the firm, rounded flesh as he drove them both deeper into the moment. Their gasps and moans filled the room, creating a symphony of passion that echoed the intensity of their connection. As the rhythm between them grew more fervent, Leo’s body responded with equal force, his glutes flexing and relaxing with each thrust. At one point, Leo took control, pushing himself back onto Nate with deliberate movements, eliciting a deep, guttural moan of pleasure from Nate.

Nate leaned forward, pressing his chest against Leo’s back as he continued to move. The heat between them was almost unbearable, but they were lost in each other, completely consumed by the love and desire that pulsed between them, drawing them closer with every passing second. The tension in Leo’s body built to an almost unbearable crescendo, the sensation of Nate moving within him pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Nate’s breath grew ragged as he felt the pressure building, each thrust bringing them both closer to a powerful release. “Leo… you feel so perfect,” Nate murmured, his voice thick with emotion and need. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” Leo gasped, his voice trembling with anticipation. “I need you, Nate… don’t stop…”

With one final, powerful thrust, the tension that had been building within them both reached its peak. Nate let out an impassioned groan as Leo was overcome by the intense warmth spreading through him as Nate filled him completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the depth of their connection almost too much to bear. The wave of pleasure that crashed over them was so powerful it left them both trembling, their bond deepening and solidifying in a way neither had ever experienced before. In that moment, their bodies and souls were perfectly in sync, united in an embrace that transcended the physical, binding them together in a profound love and shared ecstasy.

As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, Nate gently withdrew, his hands caressing Leo’s cheeks one last time before he turned him to his side and held him close. Their bodies were still humming with the afterglow, their hearts racing as they tried to process what had just happened.

Nate pressed an impassioned kiss to Leo’s lips as they lay together on the couch. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion and certainty.

Leo’s eyes shone with tears of happiness as he looked up at Nate. “I love you too,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, but carrying the weight of his feelings.

As they lay entwined in the quiet of the night, their bodies still connected, neither of them could have imagined that this night of passion would soon lead to a new chapter in their lives—one that would bring them even closer together and test the strength of their love in ways they had yet to discover.

Leo & Nate Part 2

[gamevoidartblog]

Ramblings/Explanations of my Dragonborns history/relation with Hermaeus Mora cause I think its neat. (even if he is a slow talker).

Read More to prevent wall of text:

First Meeting / Discerning the Transmundane:

Shen was one to help out anyone, no matter how weird- as long as they weren't outwardly evil. Although Shen doesn't understand the importance, she is willing to help the crazed man unlock the box. Thus, bringing her fate in front of Hermaeus Mora.

Shen rejected Hermaeus's offer, and saying although she was willing to help the man she had no interest in the offers Hermaeus had. He declared as he usually did, that she could not evade him forever, and she left.

Even after reading the book and benefitting from the knowledge, Shen continued to reject Hermaeus offer, and their paths split. He did not pursue her any further, knowing that soon enough fate was going to lead her to him again.

Second Meeting / Freeing Miraak:

When Shen was forced from the black book into Apocrypha, she seemed like the perfect target to become maddened by his realm. Shen was a curious person, and she looted many of the books that were left strewn about if she did not recognize them.

But she continued to remain both impressive and apathetic, easily defeating the many monsters and beasts within Apocrypha and navigating the dizzying halls without losing herself. But still, she rejected being champion. Only willing to accept the help that would get her to Miraak.

In her ultimate betrayal to Hermaeus, (Though, she will state it was hardly a betrayal since she had done nothing but insult him) she freed Miraak from the realm and brought him back to Nirn.

Post-Solstheim:

Had it been a different prince, perhaps the Dragonborn would have been chased to the ends of the earth for what she had done. But Hermaeus Mora was no such beast. Her control of her own fate, strength, and curiosity had still intrigued him greatly. And her rejection of becoming Champion made her an interesting target.

What sealed her continued fate was her curse, which she kept secret. What laid under her mask, the nature of her curse, anything about it was known only to her. She told not a soul, and never even wrote it down.

So, Hermaeus continues the pursuit of his fleeing champion. Trying to persuade her into a deal, reveal her secrets to him- and he in turn, will lead her to the knowledge she needs to break said curse.

She continues to reject him, but he knows he has time. Using the influence of the black books and the Infnium had on her mind, he continues to plague her dreams and sometimes appearing in visions during her waking hours to attempt to break her.

Her apathy towards knowledge, her distrust towards daedra, and miraaks help keeps her from being controlled by him- but Mora is slowly breaking her down little by little.

[horizon-verizon]

House Strong is one of the most enigmatic families, not because of the power they wield or the ambitions they pursue but because of the actions they exhibit without any obvious agenda/reason. In a world where every action is driven by personal gain, the Strongs stand apart. Their decisions appear to lack self-interest or ambition, which makes their loyalty and actions unsettlingly "pure." The setting of Harrenhal only deepens the intrigue. Despite the ruinous effect the castle has on others, the Strongs seem impervious to its influence. The members, I'm sure, are aware of the dark magic that lingers within its walls, but as I said, the Strongs carry no visible inner torment for the castle to exploit. This immunity might suggest that the Strongs are transparent about who they are; they neither pretend to be more than they are nor carry any hidden shame. Their honesty, though unsettling at times, acts as a kind of armor, shielding them from the castle’s curse. Larys Strong embodies a different kind of authenticity that is both unsettling and deeply rooted in chaos rather than loyalty. Throughout the Dance, his actions appear incomprehensible; he acts against the Blacks, the Greens, and even against his own self-interest. It becomes clear that Larys serves no master but himself. What makes Larys particularly fascinating is what it seems the absence of ambition in his scheming. Unlike Littlefinger, who sees chaos as a ladder to power, to Larys, chaos is chaos, and that's good enough in itself. Carefully avoiding the spotlight, Larys seems to prefer to operate from behind the scenes. Even when Aegon returns to the throne and power vacuums emerge, he makes no attempt to seize control. His behavior suggests a primary interest in influence rather than outright power; he allows others to act as figureheads while he manipulates events without attaching himself to any particular regime. In the show, Larys orchestrates the fire that kills his father and brother, framing it as both an act of liberation and a strategic move (Lyonel). This differs from the book, where the fire's origins remain ambiguous. By murdering his family, Larys frees himself from the bonds of familial loyalty, much like shedding the skin of those who both protected and constrained him. By committing this act of kinslaying, Larys secures Alicent's involvement in his plot. This act forges a bond of secrecy between them; because she knows what he has done, she cannot confront him without risking her own exposure. He casts suspicion on Alicent while simultaneously removing a piece (Harwin) of evidence that could prove Rhaenyra's children are bastards. He also appeals to her base nature. The fire at Harrenhal shows Alicent that he can embrace the cold detachment she professes to embrace (sever ties to achieve greater objectives). There is an unspoken agreement between them. “What are children but a weakness?” - Larys This bond, however, is tested as the series progresses. Alicent’s commitment to the harsh ideals she once espoused begins to waver (season 1, part of season 2). Larys’s approach to death further distinguishes him. While Cole clings to honor and seeks a final confrontation to affirm his ideals, Larys accepts the inevitability of his own demise with indifference. When Cregan Stark arrives to impose justice at the end of the Dance, Larys offers no explanation for his actions and makes no attempt to negotiate exile. Instead, he requests execution, choosing to end his life on his own terms. This stark contrast to Cole’s desperate struggle for meaning reflects Larys’s fundamental detachment from the world and the people within it. Heh...or maybe I'm wrong, but Harrenhal's arc and the Strong were fun!

Not lifted, yes? If not, thank goodness.

Despite the ruinous effect the castle has on others, the Strongs seem impervious to its influence.

The Strongs lost their lord and heir in Lyonel and Harwin before the war AND during the war [SPOILERS!!!] they will be totally destroyed Aemond. I wouldn't say that whatever effects that are told to have ruined all the other houses who took over skipped over the Strongs. Not at all. Perhaps HotD's making it so that the bulk of Harrenhal's bloody history can be chalked up to magic is leaving the impression that the castle exploits its inhabitants' "inner torment" (and that's the curse), but that's really unlikely when all or most of the inhabitants historically were killed bc of political intrigue or abusing their power over those in their lands. (I talk about it here) Like the other houses, the Strongs die and very violently bc of political intrigue and alliances. Plus, I don't think the Towers were ever "inauthentic".

I mention the book bec, again, the Strongs even in the show do still experience and will likely still experience total annihilation or violence without ghosts being the architects of such.

As for Larys, I personally speculate that he's with the greens for advantage until he's not and, yes, he didn't care all that much for family loyalty or obligation. Book and show.

Throughout the Dance, his actions appear incomprehensible; he acts against the Blacks, the Greens, and even against his own self-interest. It becomes clear that Larys serves no master but himself. What makes Larys particularly fascinating is what it seems the absence of ambition in his scheming. Unlike Littlefinger, who sees chaos as a ladder to power, to Larys, chaos is chaos, and that's good enough in itself.

I think that's is in the shadows so neither side can anticipate what's he's going to do next and thus be wary of him, which in turn makes it easier for him to perform secret tactics in contingecy of when either side fails/falls. So this:

Larys’s approach to death further distinguishes him. While Cole clings to honor and seeks a final confrontation to affirm his ideals, Larys accepts the inevitability of his own demise with indifference.

is likely coming from his ruthless pursuit of power, playing the "game", and conceding to his own loss when finally cornered. Yes,

Larys offers no explanation for his actions and makes no attempt to negotiate exile. Instead, he requests execution, choosing to end his life on his own terms...

There's, to me, a sort of fatigue here. He, canonically asks to leave behind his clubfoot when he's slotted to be executed, showing that he very likely pursued power in spite of what expectations for a disabled second son there was. But after it caught up with him, he took death as a new way out or a real chance to "rest" after all the scheming but as you say, on his own terms. A sort of parallel to how people just wanted the Dance to be over at the end.

Criston desperately wanted payback and was contrastingly attached to his status as an enemy against Rhaenyra or having some sort of BIG ENEMY bc he's defined himself his whole life by those things that are inaccessible to Larys: conventional knighthood masculinity and the physicality required to obtain such status. Alicent also desperately wished to validate herself through the conventions of womanhood that directly contradict the ruthlessness she wants to take advantage of:

The fire at Harrenhal shows Alicent that he can embrace the cold detachment she professes to embrace (sever ties to achieve greater objectives). There is an unspoken agreement between them.

For me, the Harrenhal sequence didn't appeal and wasn't all that fun both because of:

how Daemon incentives the Blackwoods with no success against the Brackens (like in canon) as if he's some sort of chaos-gremlin instead of the tactician he was

Daemon somehow being able to talk to and confront Alys in the cool, "normal" tones (when we see there's no vision of mind-fuckery happening) about everything else, but not figuring out she is likely the one to have poisoned his cup once he starts accusing people of doing so

this post AND this post explaining my thoughts about their famous argument on the show (bk!Daemon & Rhaenyra over B&C; how they went about getting Daemon there to Harrenhal (again, the argument b/t him and Rhaenyra; he also should have already been at Harrenhal before Luke's murder)

Therefore, I dislike how the entire Harrenhal plot in HotD is predicated on the supposed necessity of guiding Daemon to fight for/and believe in Rhaenyra AND her believing he would fight or plan well for her after their several years of growing a family together…

Even with the argument that bk!Rhaenyra might have felt something about B&C degrading her reputation or credibility in its viciousness. BECAUSE Daemon got many riverlords to follow him against the Brackens during and after the Battle of the Burning Mill not long after B&C -- those lords would have known what he did. As I said in one of the linked posts, these lords would not have cared that much over Jaehaerys as to stop supporting Rhaenyra altogether, esp after it was Aemond/a green who killed her son to provoke a response (not moral, but certainly falls within the parameters of how their general ethics work) OR as to forgo their sworn oaths to her.

There was no uproar about Daemon and the Blackwoods in canon…ever. Nor was any Tully a part of the war until much later. Bc the Blackwoods were destroying Rhaenyra's enemies, the Brackens…alone. (Yes there were villages ruined and sacked, I'm saying it wasn't treated as a war crime bc it was relegated against a green supporter and this was a conflict bk!Daemon had already enlisted various riverlords to fight against the Brackens, so there wouldn't be any sort of council called against him when he's performing exactly what he was supposed to do as Rhaenyra's consort and sorta-vassal):

"A Son for a Son"

"The Red Dragon and the Gold"

[lostinthewiind]

Brink of Extinction: Chapter ONE

Attack on Titan

Rating: Mature

Warnings: sexual themes, death, gore, mature themes, extreme violence, body horror, blood, weapons, major character death

Papers splayed out all over the desk before her, Siv stared absentmindedly out the window as she waited for her mentor to finish looking through her research.

Pretending to be fascinated with the bluebird sitting on a tree branch outside, Siv watched out of the corner of her eye as Claud flipped through her old, tattered notebook page by page. Finally, he snapped the book shut and adjusted his glasses.

"A solid foundation. Yes, a very good start." He cleared his throat before pushing the piles of research back across the desk to Siv. "I encourage you to pursue it."

Siv blinked in response. "A good start?" she repeated. "Sir, this is the finished training regime. I know better than to waste your time with theories of little grounding."

Claud let out a laugh, almost as if he couldn't possibly have stopped himself from finding her words amusing. "And yet you present me with a report and regime riddled with speculation and assumptions."

"There is only so much concrete evidence I can put into such groundbreaking work. We know so little about the Titans. At some point, we have to start accepting that we can't know everything."

"That is where you and I disagree."

Siv was silent for a moment, carefully selecting her next words. "Sir, I know you're unsure about my work—and I know we have vastly different approaches when it comes to academia—but I believe in this. This could save lives."

"There are many ways to win a war," Claud instructed her. "Flashy doesn't always mean best."

Siv felt the resolve she had worked so hard to cultivate begin to crack. "Yes, sir."

"Your day will come eventually. You're still young, Miss Grier. No need to rush things."

Standing up from her chair, Siv gathered her research and turned to leave Claud's office. Aside from knowing better than to waste his time, she also knew better than to argue with him. He hadn't been appointed Head of Research for no reason; if anything, he knew how to get his way.

Claud Rutger was a perfectionist. Every theory, query, or thought he ever had was meticulously tested over and over again until it was water-tight. No, even that was too lienent. Air-tight.

Claud Rutger was an exceptionally brilliant man and an exceptionally frustrating mentor. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he wished for the advancement of humanity at all with the way he shut down innovation left and right. Because of his ways, however, every tidbit of information he presented to the higher-ups was impeccable; thus, he was revered by many.

Claud Rutger took no risks and gained all the reward.

Huffing, Siv marched down the brightly lit hallway back toward her own much smaller, much darker office. Hands clasped tightly around the pages she had poured every free moment into for the past six months, she felt her spirit dissipate slightly at the feeling of the pages crumpling.

Siv began working as a research assistant for the Military Police just over a year ago, a month or so after the breach of Wall Maria and the fall of Shiganshina. After the assault, and the proof that the walls did little to keep humanity safe anymore, the government began beckoning regular civilians into their ranks by the hundreds. Scientists, strategists, and soldiers alike were called to serve humanity.

Siv was more than happy to accept a position where she could follow her passion for academia and be paid a living wage. She very much enjoyed her days spent locked in her office, doing her part for civilization while remaining safe behind Wall Sina. For the most part, anyway.

What she didn't enjoy was the fact that not once in her fourteen months of working with Claud had he ever taken an interest in her theories, hence why they rarely saw the light of day. During official office hours, she was only permitted to work on pre-approved projects.

Back at her office, which was cramped and only had one small window for natural light, Siv dropped her research onto her desk and began lighting the many candles strewn around the space. Most were at differing stages of being burnt; some were fresh, the wax just starting to melt, and others were barely more than an inch tall. The number of candles Siv went through in a week was a testament to just how often she worked into the night, hours past when the sun would be a sufficient source of light.

Despite having never entered Titan territory before, or even seeing one up close, Siv specialized in Titan behavioural patterns and used the information soldiers and informants gathered for her to devise training methods for soldiers and cadets alike.

Siv liked her work, and most importantly, she was proud of it. She knew that someday research like hers would play an integral part in turning the tides for humanity. Unfortunately, it just didn't seem as though that day would come anytime soon.

Plopping down into her chair, Siv let out an exasperated sigh and shut her eyes. After months of long days and sleepless nights trying to prove herself and her research, she needed a few minutes to just breathe.

When Siv opened her eyes again, it was to the sound of frantic knocking coming from the other side of her door. Realizing she had fallen asleep, she jumped up just as her office door flew open.

In the threshold, Claud looked much different than he had when they had last seen each other. Instead of his signature deadpanned expression of indifference, an unusual smile was plastered forcefully on his face; one he reserved for kissing government ass.

"Siv!" he exclaimed. "You're still here. Perfect!" After quickly shutting the door behind himself, he rushed over to Siv's desk and began tidying it up. "Are these those training formations you were telling me about earlier?" He snatched a series of documents into his hands and began to quickly look them over.

"Sir?" Siv eyed Claud carefully.

Claud's eyes lit up as he shuffled through the papers. "Yes, yes." He finally set the stack of scribbled training formations into a neat pile in the corner of her desk. "When he asks, you say these little research projects of yours have already been sanctioned by me. Got it?"

Siv couldn't help the confused expression that crossed her features. She wasn't entirely convinced that her lack of understanding solely came from the fact that she had just woken up from an unintentional nap. "I'm really not sure what you're talking about, sir."

Before Claud had the chance to explain further, the office door opened once more and a tall man with blonde hair, thick brown eyebrows, and a commandeering presence stepped into the room. Behind him, a couple more men in uniform followed.

"This is the assistant you were telling me about?" The man strolled into the office, his eyes quickly scanning every corner of the room before settling on the desk. If his military uniform and entourage were anything to go by, he was certainly important.

"Yes, Commander." Claud nodded.

Suddenly, all eyes were on Siv. Standing up a bit straighter, she tucked a stray strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. Nervously, her gaze shifted between Claud and this mystery man. She had no idea what was going on.

Was this a nightmare? Was she reliving her rejection all over again in her sleep? This time in front of her mentor and a room full of strangers?

Thankfully, after sensing Siv's uncertainty, the commander took it upon himself to begin looking through her work himself. He hummed to himself softly as he read. "They'll make an excellent foundation." Almost exactly what Claud had said earlier. Yup, definitely a nightmare. "Exactly what I'm looking for." He looked up and his piercing blue eyes met Siv's.

Siv had to take a second to fully register what he had said. "What?"

"How long have you been working on these?"

Instead of letting Siv speak for her own work, Claud inserted himself into the conversation. "They've been a real team effort for the past few months," he lied. "We've been gathering data from Scout reports and inputting it into tactical formations."

"I see." The commander gave the documents one last final glance before returning them to the corner of the desk, less neatly than Claud had arranged them but much more organized than how Siv had them littered about. "Tell me, have you ever even seen a Titan before?"

"Not exactly but-" Claud was cut off when the man held up his hand.

"I believe I was asking the lady." He directed his complete attention to Siv.

Siv swallowed hard. "No, sir."

"Then what makes you think you can predict their movements so accurately? I can see where the real-life data comes into play, but there are a lot of assumptions made in this work."

"All research utilizes extrapolation. If science waited until every single point on the proverbial map was plotted before ever stepping foot outside the comfort zone, progress would never be made." Siv saw Claud's mouth twitch slightly out of the corner of her eye. "Or, at least, it would be at a snail's pace."

He seemed satisfied with that answer. "Humanity doesn't have time for a snail's pace."

The corner of Siv's mouth pulled into a smirk. "Of course, that's just my own personal method. I've been told I tend to jump first and ask questions later."

He nodded. "I find we already have enough questions as is."

As Siv relaxed a little in the man's presence, she took a moment to observe him a little closer. Claud had called him 'Commander', which only supported her theory that he was someone important. The standard-issue green cloak he was wearing draped over his shoulders and clasped in the middle of his chest, but without seeing the back it was impossible to tell which regiment he was from.

"Can I assume you're impressed then?" Claud asked expectantly. "Or would you like to see more?"

By now, Claud was simply talking out of his ass. There wasn't anything 'more' to see, even if the commander had wished it. Claud didn't know that though; he had barely given the research the time of day mere hours earlier.

"No, I think this is sufficient. It's late and I don't wish to keep anyone up longer than necessary." The commander nodded and, somehow, it was obvious he knew Siv had been sleeping in her chair before his arrival. "Can I expect a more formal report put together and on my desk in two days?"

"Make it one. Twenty-four hours and it's yours." Claud was happy to oblige the commander, especially if the promises he was making weren't his to fulfill.

The commander flashed the faintest hint of a smile. "I'll be on my way then." He bowed his head in Siv's direction before turning around and stepping out into the hallway, the group of men close on his heels.

It was then that Siv caught sight of the wings of freedom stitched onto the back of his cloak. The man she had just had in her office was Commander Erwin Smith of the Scout Regiment.

Erwin Smith had personally looked at her research. Erwin Smith had been impressed by her research.

Despite having slightly more information now than she did going into the interaction, Siv was still confused as to what, exactly, was going on. "Sir?" She turned to her mentor.

Without so much as a courtesy smile to assure Siv that everything was okay, Claud marched out of the office and trailed after the commander, leaving Siv alone with her thoughts, months worth of research, and the heavy smell of burning wax.

══════

When Siv showed up to work the next morning, exhausted from a night of compiling her research into a more formal proposal—which she had never done before because none of her theories had ever made it past the theoretical stage—she was taken aback to find her office had been completely emptied.

"They've moved your belongings over to the Scout Headquarters," Claud explained, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. As he stepped into the barren office behind Siv, his expression soured into one of annoyance.

Shoulders slumped, Siv exhaled slowly. "Why?"

"It doesn't make much sense for the Scout Commander's new Research Specialist to work out of an office located within Military Police grounds, now does it?" Claud huffed.

"I'm sorry? Research Specialist?" Siv turned to face her mentor. "Someone really needs to start explaining things to me."

Claud rolled his eyes, clearly very put out by the whole ordeal. "Commander Erwin Smith of the Scout Regiment has apparently found your work on Titan behavioural patterns and corresponding military formations quite illuminating. He requested your transfer last night. It was approved this morning."

Claud pulled a folded slip of paper out of his breast pocket and handed it to Siv. Formal report in one hand, Siv unfolded the official transfer papers and felt her heart sink at the finality of it all. Without being consulted even once on the outcome of her academic career, Siv's life had been flipped upside down.

"No, no. There must be some kind of mistake." Siv shook her head. "I'm just a research assistant. An apprentice. Your apprentice."

"I said that very thing myself when the transfer papers found their way onto my desk bright and early this morning. But alas, it seems Erwin Smith gets what he wants; and what he wants is you."

"I don't ... I can't ..." Siv took a second to take in the isolating feeling of her office no longer feeling like her office. All the personal touches she had added over the past fourteen months were gone. All that remained was her desk, her chair, and her candles. "I like my job here. I'm not cut out for the Scouts."

Claud, the physical embodiment of facts over feelings, simply shrugged. "Sometimes our path in life isn't up to us." Siv could sense the slight flicker of disappointment in his eyes; as if he had been hoping for a different outcome.

Then everything clicked. The sudden interest in her work. The last-minute insistence that they had developed the research together. The eagerness to impress. The faint air of disappointment now that everything was said and done. Claud had been the one hoping to be transferred.

"You wanted this job," Siv stated. "I'm taking your job."

For a moment, it seemed as though Claud was going to deny the ridiculous accusation. Then, with a deflating exhale, he nodded. "I had been hoping for a change in scenery, yes. However, it seems that my methods aren't what the commander is looking for."

"Well then, tell them you want the job instead. It would work out best for both of us."

"Don't you think I already tried that?" Claud had to force himself to hold his head a little higher while admitting his shame. Siv tried not to dwell too hard on the fact that he had already tried to snake the job out from under her without even knowing if she wanted it or not yet. "The commander was steadfast on you. Not me. You."

Defeated, Siv had no choice but to accept her circumstances. If she took the time to look past the sudden shock of it all, it was nice to finally have her work recognized by someone so influential. "I suppose this is the part where I step out of my comfort zone in search of progress then?"

"I suppose so," Claud agreed. 

[jindallaebe]

DON'T ANSWER 조진달래 → SOLO

the instant jindallae's phone vibrates and he sees "DON'T ANSWER" light up his screen, he sighs heavily. this is the fifth time in three days that she's tried to call him, and though he's stuck to his guns and ignored her the last few times, guilt is starting to weigh on him; the type of guilt that only your mother can make you feel, which, in his opinion, is even worse than the instances he was shamed by teachers for kicking a kid's ass on the playground.

he knows what she wants. it's almost september, she likely has questions about the upcoming holiday, and she's definitely going to ask him to prepare the celebratory meal for the family. that's why she isn't settling for calling mindeulle and using him as a liaison. no, it's being made clear that she insists on talking to him personally, and she won't stop bothering him until he answers.

resigning himself to his reality, he eventually picks up; offering a sturdy hum as a 'hello', not bothering to even engage in small talk. thankfully, she isn't interested in that either. why would she be anyway? it's not like she cares about him, or what he's doing, or what's going on his life... until she needs something from him.

"when are you working during the holiday?" "basically every day." "you can't take a day off to spend with us?" "i'd rather make the money." "i was hoping you'd cook." "can't you?" "you're better at it."

jindallae rolls his eyes, half-tempted to tell her to fuck off. she only cares about his culinary skills whenever it benefits her. all other times, she makes him feel like shit for choosing to pursue a career as a chef and restaurateur. the amount of times she's told him that he's going to be a loser for the rest of his life if he doesn't get a college degree is insurmountable, and now that he's doing really well for himself in his chosen path, she feels bitterness about it.

he'll never please her. he's accepted that now, so he doesn't even try. his older sister, molan, tells him that his mom has softened in her older age, but he's suspicious. he doesn't think she's capable of that kind of growth. to him, she's ancient and set in her ways; stubborn.

"i know."

he replies, then there's a pause. they've never known how to communicate.

"please take the day of chuseok off, and cook us dinner."

it's not a question, it's a demand. she has no consideration for his own life or his own wants. this is how it always goes down. she asks him a yes or no question, but he's never given a clean choice. the answer has to be yes.

"i'll cook your dinner and bring it over, but i'm not staying."

another pause. this one's longer.

he can tell she wants to say something else, but she doesn't. instead, she hums in affirmation, then hangs up the phone. when the line goes dead, he huffs; swiping his free hand over his face. great. he just added much more bullshit onto his plate.

in this moment, jindallae starts craving a cigarette, and even though he's been trying to cut back on them for stevie's sake, he pulls out the pack he keeps in his back pocket and heads outside; needing peace.

hopefully this helps him clear his head. he hates that just a phone call with her makes him feel like this, but thankfully, he's learned somewhat better ways to cope with it. lighting up is better than punching walls, even if each puff is slowly killing him.

[tinygumdrops]

Hey hope you doing well

I'm not same anon

Thank you for answering your fav arcs. Your selection was great, i was certain you'd love wci. It's such interesting family dynamics right

Most people didn't recieve the arc well..

I love your works btw. So I'm very much interested in knowing your favourites, so your fav haikyuu arcs? Or matches and top 3 fav characters:)

Feel free to not reply if this gets repetitive.

Hello again, anon! :D And noooo omg I'm really enjoying having the excuse chance to ramble about things I love! So don't worry about being repetitive because you're definitely not :D

Top 3 hq!! characters? Oh my. Well I've already said too much about Hinata being my top fave, so I guess I can elaborate on the #2 and #3 in my kokoro.

#2 - Yachi Hitoka and Sugawara Koushi

I'm going to cheat a little here. I love these two equally after Hinata and no one can make me choose who takes the next top spot, so there ;-; Seeing Yachi blushing and stuttering and just being a total mess in front of Shimizu made me forever endeared to her. Like yes girl I too would make an absolute fool of myself in front of people I feel are out of my league. Also!!! Her struggle with self-esteem and her trying to become her own person apart from her mother's legacy is such A Mood. Her arc is shorter than most of the cast but it didn't make it any less memorable to me. And homegirl chose hell with a career in ad design. She's pretty insane, I'm sure.

And Sugawara is just so charming as a character! How I wish I had a senior like him in my high school clubs ;-; It actually distressed me a little that he hardly got any action during their final battles in Tokyo Dome, but his antics on the side made it a little worth it. He's capable, self-aware, dependable and also emotionally intelligent, which I really, really appreciate in male characters. I take comfort in the idea that Furudate-sensei might have modeled his personality after a real individual. We need more people in the world like him imo.

#3 - Miya Osamu

This is actually so funny. Right off the bat, people who know me in real life always guessed correctly who's my favorite of the Miya twins I'm that fucking predictable. Atsumu's a great, interesting character for sure, but Osamu's soporific disposition kept making me think 'hmmmm there must be something else behind this person'. And as soon as it was revealed that Osamu didn't have any intention to go pro after high school, I started fixating on him. And because Furudate-sensei knows my heart, of course Osamu didn't pursue what was expected of him, of course he loves food, of course he'll make a career of making the classic onigiri, of course his uncomplicated love for food is a great contrast to his chaotic relationship with his brother/volleyball. Man!!!

And as for arcs/matches---

#1 - Brazil Arc/Post Timeskip

I am extremely biased. Hinata's my favorite character. And Brazil arc Hinata is god tier Hinata. Anyone who says otherwise can argue with a wall.

But for real, I just love it when authors throw their MCs into unfamiliar situations and environments. People may argue that it's a lazy way to shove character development into the plot, but in Hinata's case it really fits. I also love the cross-cultural exchange that comes with it! I know Brazil is already familiar to Japan considering their shared history with Portugal, but it's still nice for Haikyuu!!'s Japanese audience to (re)learn about a country quite different in culture and social norms. I for one became really interested about Brazil and Latin America that I started reading novels made by Latin American authors.

#2 - Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai, Interhigh

I might be in the minority here, but I like it when the main characters lose at times. It's not because I enjoy watching the heartache. But the journey going from bottom to top---the possibilites are just endless. It kind of feeds my need for hopeful stories. I think of myself as an optimistic person, and I watch shows like Haikyuu!! wanting to be inspired and uplifted.

Hinata and Kageyama's dynamic on the court was, to me, a bit unequal during the first arc of the manga. The freak quick with Hinata closing his eyes and heavily relying on Kageyama setting with pinpoint accuracy was indeed cool, and it revealed so much about them as characters, but it was clear from the start that it's not the move that'd catapult them to the top. Dare I say it was more of a gimmick than an actual technique; their success with it won't last. Hinata opening his eyes to find himself blocked pointblank made me sad no doubt, but it's also a satisfying way to end the match. There's literally no other way to end it. And I love that this arc spurred Karasuno into making themselves a more complete team by the time they faced Shiratorizawa.

#3 - Karasuno vs. Nekoma, Tokyo Nationals

They hyped this match so much since the first arcs so obviously my anticipation was through the roof. Plus there's the generational aspect of it that made the whole thing bittersweet (The reveal that Grandpa Ukai was watching the Nekoma match in the hospital and commenting with pride, "My disciples are there" !!!!!!!) And I love the imagery this match has given birth to! Conniving cats versus feral crows in the garbage dump! Kenma and Hinata aiming to stab one another at the jugular! Kenma trapping Hinata in a birdcage! And Kageyama breaking Hinata out of it!!! *incoherent wailing*

So sorry if this answer got too long once again. Thank you for taking the time to ask my opinion. As you can see, I greatly enjoyed sharing my thoughts with you! :DDD

[knightmareaceblue]

What would Polythreat be like in the other times like Toppat King, Master Bounty Hunter, and Stickmin Space Resort. Just wanted to see how Polythreat would look like other timelines.

TK: Maybe Charles got capture during the rocket launch and become a Toppat's prisoner. Henry and Ellie would visit him and get to know each other.

MBH: Henry and Charles want to the Wall to arrest Dmitri. While there, they meet and free Ellie who decide to help take down Dmitri.

How would you think Polythreat would work in other timelines.

Polythreat: Enter the Multiverse. There was no reason to write that, it just entered my mind and I thought it was funny.

I'll share some ideas I've had, but forgive me for skimping on details... just in case I want to write one of these stories someday.

Plot ideas below the cut

SSR: After finding Ellie being unethically interrogated in a government base, Charles frees her and the two go on the run. They spend a year on the run, get together as a couple, and through a series of shenanigans end up stowing away on a shuttle up to Stickmin Space Resort. Henry offers them sanctuary in exchange for employment, partially out of sympathy but mostly because he's really freakin' bored, and this is the most exciting thing to happen since he'd stolen the Toppats rocket.

So Ellie works as security while Charles drives a spaceship and helps with guided tours. Henry, curious about their story because they've only told bits and pieces and he's actually a drama loving weirdo, spends a lot of time with the both of them and eventually catches feelings. Romcom shenanigans ensue as Charles and Ellie both develop a crush on him and agree to pursue him together, while Henry wonders what the heck these brand-new feelings are all about. Also goverment related drama as they try to get Ellie and Charles back. And maybe the Toppats cause trouble too? Haven't decided yet.

---

JB: Enemies to friends to lovers GOLD. I know TCW may reek of this more, but I have a blatent bias for PBT routes, and also there's too much comedy to get out of TCW for me to take it seriously in any context.

Anyways, so after Henry betrays Ellie and steals the Norwegian Emerald while screwing over the Toppats, Ellie hears about it and breaks out on her own. She then finds Henry and the two of them become bitter rivals in thievery. Galeforce, unfortunately, took the fall for the chaos they caused and Charles takes stopping them as a personal mission. Thief vs detective type shenanigans ensue as the three constantly sabotage each other. Henry treats it all like a huge game, Ellie is seething with rage, and Charles very quickly gets fed up with their shenanigans.

Things come to a head when a trap gone wrong leads to the three of them crashing Charles' helicopter on a mountain. They agree to work together to get back to civilization. Nobody is happy with this. As they make the journey down, they reluctantly begin to understand each other. They've each got mental issues from the events of THSC, and this leads to mutual respect by the time they get back to the city. It develops into a less toxic rivalry, which develops into Henry and Ellie occasionally making things easier on Charles. At some point Henry apologies to Ellie. I don't have all the details yet. But I do know exactly how it ends.

---

TR: Unfortunately, it would take some pretty extreme trauma to push someone like Charles to join the Toppat Clan. And extreme trauma is exactly what happened. Unfortunately, this is actually something I have in progress, so I can't elaborate too much more. But I will say this: Henry and Ellie are surprised and annoyed to be put on Governemnt Lapdog babysitting duty, but slowly come to care about him as he continually risks his life for theirs and endears himself to them. Ellie falls first, interestingly enough, though Charles is initially more interested in Henry. It's not... quite a love triangle, though. He just has a reason to believe he can trust Henry more than Ellie. The three of them eventually find common ground though, as Henry and Ellie comfort Charles as he tells them why he joined the clan.

---

CG: After reliveing the Toppat Clan of all their riches (and also killing their Chief), Henry and Ellie became a duo of vigilante heroes. They work outside the law to bring justice, with Galeforce a secret government contact leaking info to them to help them out. Charles isn't too keen on their brand of justice at first but finds that they've actually helped a lot of people. The place where they set up HQ knew they were performing criminal acts, he discovers, but didn't turn them in because they liked and trusted the two more than the police.

It's a lot of moral introspection for Charles, with him slowly coming to the side of 'protecting the innocent is more important than following the law'. This culminates in him rescuing Ellie and Henry from a government-sanctioned assassination attempt, where they bombed the heck out of their hideout, and officially joins their vigilante group. Ellie and Henry both come to like him, but keep their distance to avoid scaring him and upsetting each other... so CHARLES has to make the first move. I'm sure you can imagine how that went.

---

And that's all I have for you right now! It's fun to come up with these sorts of alternate scenarios, isn't it? Maybe I'll write these, maybe I won't. But it was fun.

[spurgie-cousin]

I am guessing Karissa never wanted to be quiverfull from the offset as she has mentioned Mandrae not wanting loads of kids but she felt compelled to because of God. Do we know which kid she felt like this at?

I found a post that Karissa wrote for the Transformed Housewife's blog that actually had a lot of interesting bits of info about this topic (esp regarding Mandrae), so I'll try to summarize it below to avoid giving TTH any more online traffic:

Per her own testimony, Karissa went into marriage with the plan to be on birth control for at least 5 years, pursue a singing career (snort), and just spend alone time with her husband, but after hearing a sermon on trusting god with your family planning they both decided that that was what "god was calling them to do".

So Karissa ditches the BC, they discover how freakishly fertile she is, and after baby number 3 Mandrae starts to question this decision. Per Karissa he worried about money, being able to be emotionally present for each of his kids, the quality of life for each of his kids, being thought of as irresponsible by family and friends, all things any decent parent would have anxiety about. Karissa, who is somehow free of these incredibly basic worries, insists that this is what god wants them to do and refuses to use any form of birth control or family planning.

She becomes more and more insistent and Mandrae's anxieties increase until he actually threatens to get a vasectomy without Karissa's approval multiple times. He starts getting counseling from multiple pastors who support his feelings and agree with him that they should stop, but Karissa is *certain* that she knows better than everyone else and refuses to stop. So like at this point in the post I'm like, holy fuck, I don't know what kind of abuse I'd call this but all of my 'spousal abuse' alarm bells are ringing at once right now.

On top of all this, Karissa is experiencing a lot of health issues due to being constantly pregnant and her doctors are also urging her to stop. To prevent Mandrae from getting a vasectomy, she decides to get back on birth control which she takes for a max of 2 weeks before quitting because her health issues get worse. She's eventually diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis which she blames on the birth control (I looked into this and for women who are at risk of developing MS, there is a chance of birth control exacerbating those symptoms and increasing your chances of getting diagnosed).

Karissa's diagnosis only strengthens Mandrae's belief that they should be done having kids so, out of fear of him getting a vasectomy, Karissa decides to stop trying to convince him for the time being and just pray about it ('spend time in her prayer closet' as she puts it).

It was during this time that Karissa gets pregnant with baby 4 (Mandrae what are you dooiiiinnnnnn) and of course, she has a ton of health issues. Mandrae loses his job after they've just upgraded their house and car and Karissa also feels that god is calling her to quit some job where she's working evenings (of course she does) and, per Karissa, somehow they still get every bill paid on time and money is magically just coming into their accounts (this is literally how Karissa describes it so I am screaming at the screen at this point). Karissa also points out that after quitting her job and ditching doctors, she is magically 100% healed (*shoves my head through the wall*).

Pregnancy 4 ends up in a miscarriage (actually a blighted ovum, which per Karissa is basically when a pregnancy develops with literally everything but a fetus) despite Karissa being magically, totally healed. She gets pregnant again soon after and during this pregnancy, she notices that when people ask Mandrae if this is their last baby he starts to respond with "We're leaving it up to God". Karissa is filled with joy and happy tears knowing her abuse has finally yielded the results she's been looking for all this time!!!

She ends by saying life has been peachy and magical ever since, god has not only saved her life multiple times but has given her pain-free births and many other magical blessings, which she knows is proof she's doing the right thing. She encourages women reading this to also ignore any advice given to them by family, friends, doctors, or pastors, if they feel the same calling as her, and urges them to just get pregnant and let god figure out the rest.

If you're still here after all that I'll end with my main takeaways from Karissa's 'testimony', which is I really, genuinely believe this woman is mentally ill. As a relative of someone with paranoid schizophrenia, all of my related alarms are going off here, I really think with how extreme her feelings and actions are it's the only explanation to me. I would thing that if she were just lying the threat of losing her own life would've been enough to make her take a step back, and the fact that it didn't says a lot to me (disclaimer: these are just my personal feelings, I am not a doctor).

[helioleti]

I've been rewatching ATLA several times lately and this time I especially ended up wondering a lot about Iroh and Ozai's past and characters in general. I just can't help but think it weird that Ozai is the ultimate trashbag of a humanbeing while Iroh ended up preaching harmony and peace. It just doesn't make any sense. These guys are brothers. They were brought up by the same parents, in the same fascist imperialistic nation, they were taught the same values growing up. You're trying to tell me the difference is that Iroh was destined to be the person he eventually came to be, but Ozai was just born evil? No, I don't think so.

I have two hot takes that I'm gonna elaborate:

1. Iroh had a guidance Ozai lacked

2. Ozai was the less favored son

(Disclaimer: I haven't read the comics yet so I don't know how deep they've already gone into this subject at some point. I'm trying to interpret and analyze the stuff that I got from the animated series only. If anything I say contradicts what has already been confirmed in the comics, feel free to correct me.)

Hear me out. Iroh wasn't born a saint. Everyone is aware of this, especially Iroh himself. He laid siege to Ba Sing Se for 2 years, costing the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom thousands of lives. Everyone knew that if the Fire Nation took over the capital, it meant almost ultimate victory for the Fire Nation. He even went as far as making a offhand sadistic jokes about burning the city to the ground in that letter to Zuko and Azula.

Iroh acknowledges it himself; He was a different man.

So what changed?

Yes, his son died. It broke and shattered him from the inside, making him drop all efforts to continue fighting in the war. To continue what had been his lifelong ambition, what he believed to be his destiny. He had a literal vision about taking over Ba Sing Se when he was a child, and that had been what he'd been pursuing ever since. But the death of his son managed to crumble all of that into nothingness. How is that possible?

Don't get me wrong. I think it's completely valid. I just don't understand how Lu Ten and Iroh could've had such a loving and caring relationship in the first place, when that's clearly something unusual among the royal family. Ozai burned and banished Zuko without a second thought, not to mention all the other shit he did to him growing up. Ozai didn't give two shits about Azula either, he only ever intended to use her as his weapon. Doesn't seem too surprising, if you ask me. Azulon didn't hesitate to demand that Ozai kill his own son if he wanted the throne. That's the man that raised Ozai, so it's just logical that Ozai learned that behavior and those values from his own father.

Even 9 year old Azula thinks it laughable that Iroh would fall apart at the death of his son. She is a child and this is how she thinks. The reason Zuko doesn't think like this is because he's had the guidance of his mother, unlike Azula. This is the kind of mentality these kids grow up with. They grew up with war and so did Iroh and Ozai.

So why was Iroh's relationship with Lu Ten so different? Where did Iroh experience the kind of compassion and love he passed on to his own son, that Ozai definitely didn't? People act on how they've come to learn, so where did Iroh learn to care about his son to a point that it made him give up on his lifelong ambition?

Let's review a very crucial information we have on Iroh and Ozai as siblings: They have a huge age gap.

Frankly, I'm guessing about 10-20 years. Looks more like 20 to me, but that could also be Iroh's greater amount of endured pain and war making him look older than he actually is. But no one can deny that an age gap is definitely there. Which can also indicate they had different upbringings, despite having grown up in the same family as brothers.

What does this mean? Well, that's just me theorizing now, but I can definitely imagine that Iroh had someone, a family member maybe, there for him who wasn't around or didn't care to be when Ozai grew up. There must've been someone there who gave Iroh emotional security and guidance throughout his upbringing. Who? That's up to imagination. A friend of the family? A friendly uncle? His own mother ((or father))? (The last two things worked out for Zuko in the end, didn't they?) Otherwise I can't really explain myself why Iroh had enough values to love the way he loved Lu Ten, while Ozai clearly didn't give two fucks about his children at any point in his life.

Iroh was the firstborn son, the one who had a vision very early in his life that his destiny was to take over Ba Sing Se. Probably the one who got to have a family member care about him enough to show him how to love.

(I like to point this out a lot because I find it very interesting, and very significant. Please A:TLA give us more info on Iroh's past!!)

Which brings me to my second take: Ozai was the less favored son.

Iroh was clearly a son to be proud of. He was a master firebender, the "Dragon of the West", if you will. He apparently had a vision as a boy that he'd conquer the most "impenetrable city" in the world. He probably lived up to his parent's expectations for his whole life, especially having no sibling to be compared to for a significant part of his life. He broke through the outter wall of Ba Sing Se during his siege. Yada yada yada, you get my point. He's the best son they could've wished for.

And Ozai? As far as I know, he barely even has any military achievements. Taking over Ba Sing Se was Azula's doing. While Iroh laid siege to the capital, he was at home chilling in the palace. He's the younger brother to an established hero and was never meant to be firelord. Now, I haven't read the comics for more info on Ozai's biography, but this man barely had a chance to live up to his parent's standards with Iroh as an older brother. If my theory is correct, Ozai also didn't have any person to provide him emotional guidance throughout his life. (*cough* like Azula)

The logical outcome is: infinite jealousy.

And when Ozai suggests to Azulon that he revoke Iroh's birthright to become firelord, this is Azulon's answer:

Azulon doesn't even hesitate to call Ozai out on his bullshit. He doesn't hesitate to take offense at the suggestion of betraying Iroh, and he even seems to care about Iroh's suffering. Not to mention that Azulon is overall annoyed with Ozai's request for an audience and sends the rest of Ozai's family away as soon as he can, to get whatever it is Ozai wants over with.

I could also mention the fact that Ozai tried to impress Azulon with his daughter's skills (Azula, even named after him) and the overall strained relationship these two seem to exhibit. It's obviously very different from Azulon's relationship with Iroh, if the way he talks about said man is anything to show for.

What if Azulon treated Ozai the same way Ozai treated Zuko? (Probably without the physical abuse, but you get my point.) What if this is where Ozai learned to treat a "useless" kid like shit, maybe also in a way to cope with how he was treated himself?

Getting deeper into the fact that Ozai is rather a loser compared to Iroh, without any big military achievements and without value for anything beyond that, this also explains a lot about Ozai's constant need to establish his dominance.

First; Becoming Firelord through radical manners (you know, killing his own son or killing his own father)

Second; Publicly burning and banishing his own son whom he considers a weakling, who dared to speak up in his war room. Doing this to have everyone know that he doesn't associate himself with weakness and that he will not ever tolerate any form of disrespect.

Third; The whole Phoenix King act. No one can tell me this isn't a madman's doing. This is literally to show off that he is the most powerful person in the world.

Ozai is so obsessed with proving himself and his superiority to everyone, including himself and probably Iroh too. This makes most sense if we consider that he probably lived in his brother's shadow for his whole life, ignored by probably every guiding figure he's ever had in his life, maybe even considered a laughingstock by his own father.

Perhaps this is also the reason Ozai didn't have any problem with Iroh accompanying Zuko in banishment. His brother, the hero in whose shadow he grew up, and his son, the failure he'd wanted out of the way for a long time already. It would erase Iroh's image that made him superior to him, once and for all. For himself and the world. I believe that branding him a traitor was the biggest satisfaction Ozai had ever experienced in his life.

I absolutely despise Ozai with every fibre of my heart, but it amazes me how ATLA continues to leave so much room for interpretation and explanation for a character as despicable as him. Writing this, even had me feel sympathy for him at some point. Feel free to disagree with me or add anything, I'm eager to hear everyone's thoughts about Ozai and Iroh's backstories because I'm geniuinely very curious.

[simpsiren]

lee taeyong x reader

description. I liked Lee Taeyong. A lot. And with every book I gave him, whatever purposes, I hid a love letter in between its pages. After all this time, I still wonder if Taeyong has yet to read even one of them.

Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.

genre. fluff, angst, love letters!au, friends to lovers!au, one-sided love! au, bartender!taeyong, university student!reader

word count. 12.4k~

warnings. none!

a/n. was randomly scrolling through printerest when i found this word and suddenly this idea popped up in my headd. i had to change the meaning of the word so tha itll fit the story line better but the overall meaning is the same sooo. anyways that’s all i got for you now please enjoyy!

Books. An interest both Taeyong and I shared since college. Though our interest laid in the same object, our uses for it were far from the same. For me, it’s for reading. Like how it should be used, its main purpose. Like any other bookworm, constantly having my head shoved in romance or fantasy novels. Taeyong on the other hand, he... he uses it as decoration. Something that to him, should be kept on shelves, unread for display purposes.

I got to find out quite quickly that it was a habit for him to collect books that had nice spines just so he could place them on his shelves. I’ve been to his home once. One entire wall was just shelves filled with books. It was aesthetically pleasing indeed, but it disappointed me that he didn’t even bother to read a single one. So we made an agreement that I’d read his books. If he were to buy a new one, he’d let me read it first before tucking it away to never be pulled out again. I guess that’s why my friendship with him worked so well.

Taeyong decided to work as a bartender after college while I, went to pursue my studies with university. Should say that I regretted that on-impulse decision of mine nowadays.

It’s Friday. I just got out of university, at one in the morning. What an ungodly hour, considering that my classes started at nine this morning. I agreed to meet Taeyong at his bar. Luckily for me, the distance between school and the bar wasn’t far. Taeyong took me as a factor into consideration while trying out jobs around the school’s area, just so he’d get to meet me more often. That, was one of the million reasons why I fell for him.

I dragged my feet across the side walk, the screeching of my boots scraping against the rough surface. As much as I tried to hold up my posture during my long trip there (it felt like I’ve been walking forever when really, it has only been ten minutes), my back slowly slouched with each step till I was fully slouching. The extremely poor and back paining kind. Can’t blame me. University is mentally draining, but physically as well, having to walk to different classes constantly that’s being situated on opposite ends of the facility. It’s a workout.

I looked up to take a breather, seeing the glowing sign above the bar. I gazed down, to the glass windows, noticing how there was a lot of people in there. Well, it’s a Friday night afterall. I placed my free hand onto the door’s handle, pushing it open and entering.

Classical music played in the background. People’s murmurs could be heard as they had their own conversations. The place was dimly lit with an orange hue; a calming atmosphere. I went right up to the bar, getting on an empty cushioned stool and adjusting my butt onto it. I looked around the area. Taeyong wasn’t to be seen. I only assumed that he was making drinks.

I took out my book from my tote bag, flipping to the page where I folded it’s edge to continue where I left off. I was already two third done with it. And I was determined to finish it by Monday just so that I could get a new book to read.

My head was faced down, eyes scanning each sentence as I blocked out the entire world, putting myself in my own little bubble as I imagined myself in the story’s plot, too immersed to give a single care for my surroundings.

Suddenly, a hand appeared beside me, tapping its knuckles against the wood to get my attention. I lifted my eyes up, seeing Taeyong standing in front of me. White button up shirt, three buttons unhooked, revealing the slightest bit of his collarbones in a way to tease you and having the urge to see them fully. Black dress pants with a belt that cinched on his waist, framing his lower body beautifully.

“Literally called you from two steps away and you didn’t hear any of it.” Taeyong leaned against the counter, elbows supporting him as his face got close to mine. “I was busy.” I said, lifting up my book slightly. “You done with that? I need to put a new book on the shelve soon. It bugs me that there’s an empty spot.” Taeyong shivered as he mentioned that, making me chuckle softly.

“By Monday, I promise.”

“Need anything to drink? You look worn out.” Taeyong eyed me up and down. I probably looked terrible since Taeyong scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “You know I don’t drink. I mean I can, but it’s still the school term. I can’t afford getting off track by anything.”

Taeyong breathed a short laugh in response. “Ah of course. Didn’t you say you wanted to dropout just yesterday?” Taeyong looked up for a moment before bringing his eyes back down on me with a teasing gaze. My mind went back to yesterday when I texted Taeyong a long ranting paragraph about how stressed I was this week. I frowned. “Should I?”

Taeyong bobbed his shoulder. “It’s up to you. But I sincerely think you should. I mean look at you.” He added a light scoff at the end, his hand going up and down in front of me. “I’m just worried.” He proceeded to shift his weight form one leg to the other, sliding his fingers into the pocket of his pants. I felt his sense of sincerity, invariably imbued. Another reason why I fell for him. He’s always caring, too caring for his own good, especially towards me.

“Will think about it.” I mumbled, taking note of my book’s page number since I was too lazy to fold it before closing and shoving it back into my tote bag. “Anyways, when are you getting off work?”

Taeyong turned around to grab something. I realised it was his wallet and phone as he shoved the wallet into his back pocket and kept his phone in his hand. “Right now.” He flashed his smile. The signature smile. One he has on ninety percent of the time, at least around me. It was unique. A smile that only suited him and not anyone else. He owned it . Like he should. Yet another reason why I fell for him.

I got off the stool as he went around the counter that had the space in between for staffs to pass through. “Want me to drive?” He asked as we made our way to the door. I shook my head. “You had a long day. Just go home.” I kindly rejected. I bowed my head as he opened the door for me. A gentleman; adding onto the long list.

“You had an even longer one. I don’t care. It’s late too. I can’t let you walk home alone.” I laughed weakly, waiting for him outside as he closed the door. As we make our way to Taeyong’s car, he whispered, “Sleep straight when you get home, okay?” He opened the car door for me. I nodded, “Yes father.” I dragged on.

The car ride home was silent. Completely silent. There wasn’t even music playing in the background. I had my eyes fixed on the view out of the window, too scared to look at Taeyong as I can’t bare to look at him long enough before I melt on sight.

My apartment came to view after the many trees and street lights we drove past. The car pulled to a halt and I turned to Taeyong, who was suddenly up close to me, one hand looming over my chest as he reached for the seatbelt. I possibly stopped breathing. His eyes looked into mine, expressionless. I couldn’t even blink I was that shocked. “Sorry. I thought you were sleeping.”

Taeyong pulled back to his seat. I exhaled sharply. I looked to the seatbelt. He didn’t unbuckle it. I huffed quietly and did it myself, sliding my tote bag onto my shoulder. “Remember. Sleep right away.” He advised a second time as I make my way out of the car, slamming the car door shut.

Before I turned around, he rolled down the window, leaning forward slightly. “And my book!” He shouted. I placed two fingers up my head and pointed it back at it as a way to say, “Yes sir.” Before swirling around and walking away, his car’s engine starting up and driving away. The noise was quick to get muffled and go away as he drove further out of the neighborhood.

The hours of studying I had to do at home went by quick. Before I even knew it, I didn’t sleep that night at all. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to Taeyong. I had assignments to complete by Monday for God’s sake. I’ve come to terms with the fact that the number of times I’ve pulled all-nighters are now inhumane.

I checked the time on my clock. 5:05AM. I sighed, looking across my study table that’s pilled with worksheets and my opened laptop. I nodded my head as I made the mental decision of finally cleaning up as I rechecked to see if I’ve left any work undone before beginning to stack the papers and shoving them into my tote bag. The only thing left on the table was a stack of decorative papers, with beautiful outlines of red roses around the edges.

I slid one paper off the stack, placing it in front of me. I grabbed a random pen from my organiser, clicking it as I swirled it around, trying to figure out what to write.

Hey taeyong. This is my 127th love letter, confession letter, whatever you would call it. I’m not sure if you’ve read any of them. My last note was in ‘It Ends with Us’. I find that you aren’t giving any reaction or anything. I know you don’t read the books but do you even bother flipping through its pages for the letter to fall out? I’m still hoping you’d at least open this one. Please. I’ve been waiting for ages. For you. I like you, Lee Taeyong, for the 127th time.

I placed my pen back to where it belonged before holding the note in my hand, lifting it up to my face. I bit my bottom lip before opening my book, randomly opening a page and placing the note in, making sure it’s secured before putting that into my tote bag as well. Too lazy to even get into my bed, I fell asleep uncomfortably at the table.

It was now Sunday. I almost forgot the fact that I’m meeting Taeyong today to pass him the book, which to be honest, I didn’t finish. The book was boring. It was like those books that you force yourself through so you wouldn’t feel the regret of buying it. Though I used Taeyong’s money, I still felt bad for leaving it unread. I wasn’t like Taeyong at least.

While thumbing through my closet to find something to wear after showering, my eyes stopped at the sweater that Taeyong borrowed me not too long ago because I was dumb enough to meet him at two in the morning without a jacket. I was frozen stiff due to the cold.

Absentmindedly, I took it off its hanger and brought it close to my chest, dipping my head down as I deeply inhaled, Taeyong’s scent was still on there. I put it on and continued getting ready.

Just when I was done placing my valuables in my sling bag, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the mailman, I rushed to the door with immense speed. I opened the door forcefully. But instead of the mailman, I was met with Taeyong standing in front of me. We locked eyes for a split second, which made my heart leap. I then eyed him up and down. He was wearing his usual all black outfit. Shirt, jeans, and boots. I liked how the plain and simple outfit was able to cup his body well, accentuate all his body features. It always made me swoon for him.

“What are you doing here?” I noticed how Taeyong kept eyeing his sweater that’s on me despite his attempts at trying to remain eye contact with me. “I thought of just letting you give me the book now and spend the day here. Can I?” No wonder he wore a regular outfit.

“So I dressed up for nothing?” I feigned my exasperation, folding my arms as I cocked an eyebrow, huffing ever so softly. Taeyong followed my poster one on one. “And wearing my sweater is called dressing up? How lovely.” It was now his turn to fire back, which made me frown. “Whatever.” I gave in, turning around to head back to my room.

I heard the door closing as Taeyong’s footsteps were quick to follow closely behind, maybe due to the large steps he took with his long legs. As I entered my room, Taeyong lets out a hum of satisfaction. “Your shelve’s looking good. More full than last time.” He complimented. I took a seat at the study table as he made his way to seat at the edge of my bed. “Mhm.” I softly answered.

With the remembrance of what he came here for, I grabbed my tote bag and fished out for the book. I then toss it onto the bed beside Taeyong, not speaking a word as I jerked my head to it. “Thanks. You read fast.” Taeyong held the book in his hand. Open it, open it. Oh God why can’t he just find the damn note I placed there?

“No I don’t. It’s just that the book was extremely boring for my liking.” I stated, matter-of-factly. Taeyong examined the book, quickly turning it over to read the synopsis. “Ew.” He mumbled.

“It was only good at first. The ending sucked.” I added on to my complains. “By the way...” Taeyong trailed on. I wonder what he wanted to ask. Was it something about the book? About the notes?

“I’ve been thinking I should read one of the books.” I folded my arms with arrogance, slouching into the chair as I tilted my head, the side of my lip lifted up slightly. “So after more than four years I was able to reel you in to read your first book?” I questioned, sounding smug.

Taeyong let out an annoyed ‘tsk’. “I find ‘If I never met you’ interesting, okay? Let me be.” Taeyong pouted and folded his arms, turning his head away from my direction. I stood up, walking to the bed and plopping myself down which made the two of us bounce up and down of a moment. “It’s cute how you’re a newbie to reading.” I made up an excuse when really what I found cute was how Taeyong acted. It made me blush a bright pink. It was probably extremely noticeable when Taeyong suddenly mentioned, “Did I make you so proud that you’re now blushing?” Taeyong teased, a giggle following after.

“Oh shut up.”

Lee Taeyong. This is the 128th letter. I still remember the first one I wrote. Feeling so hopeful and acting like a little girl that’s too shy to confess up front. I’m still like that. Yet to physically hint at you about my feelings. I can only express them like this, through notes that could all end up being meaningless if you’ve never looked at them. I’ll come by your house today. I’ll probably slide it in between books instead of pages. I long for your love, the kind that’s much more than that of a friend. I’ve been holding on for so long. Perhaps too long. But it’s okay, you’re Lee Taeyong. I won’t let the feelings I’ve bottled up for years go to waste. I’ll do something... soon. Yes, soon.

Later that day, I made my way to Taeyong’s house. I asked him to stay at home so that I could surprise him by coming over. But the reaction that I expected from him was way too predictable.

“You could’ve just told me to pick you up!” Taeyong whined. There he goes again being way too caring. Stop it. It’s hurting me.

“It’s not that troubling to travel, Yong. Calm the heck down! It’s really nothing.” I shouted back, reassurance being imbued into each word. He made way for me to enter. And as I did, I walked slowly, long strides to the living room where the large bookshelf was placed. The one that covered the entire wall. Well, almost, since he made space for the television. Other than that, it was just books surrounding it.

“Wait.” I turned around sharply. I realised that my sudden action made Taeyong stop in his tracks instantly. But he was close to me. Way too close for my own good. We stayed there for a moment, exchanging blank stares while I took the time to remember this moment; my heart stopping, his tall figure looming over me, his eyes looking into mine as if he’s trapping me in his gaze. Moments like these happen often. And I’d often take the time to remember them, shoving them into a mental folder called ‘Head over heels for TY’.

“Sit down. I’ll... get the cheesecake.” Taeyong was the first to back out, taking a step away from me and chuckling awkwardly. He quickly turned away after avoiding my eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. He looked nervous. But why? If I have seen it correctly, it looked like his cheeks were ever so slightly red as well. What even...

I shook my head vigorously, throwing those thoughts out of my mind. I sat down on the brown leather couch, leaning back and allowing my body to sink into it. Somehow, the thoughts crept back in. I thought about how what I observed just now could not have been real. It’s Lee Taeyong. Hundreds of girls are always hitting on him at the bar during his shift. He might even be seeing someone. Wait why am I even saying that to myself? I’d end up feeling jealous with no real reason. Great, you’re a dumb one indeed.

I felt Taeyong’s weight beside me. I looked up from the table, realising now that I was in a trance of my own thoughts, and to the cheesecake that he placed down. He leaned forward to cut a slice, placing it on a small plate as he placed the fork down beside it and handed it to me. “Here. Bought it especially for your brain recovery, and cravings. You’re period came, right?”

My eyes widened. My brows furrowed and got closer to each other as I backed my head away in surprise. “How’d you even know?” I asked shockingly. Taeyong lets out a chuckle, bringing his plate up and taking a bite. “I know you long enough to know that your period’s consistent and is usual around this time. But I was just taking my chances. I know you’d still eat the cheesecake either way.” Taeyong flashed a cheeky smile.

I knew he was extremely considerate towards me. He’d always advise me to take breaks, giving me a shoulder to lean on when I need rest, coming over to comfort me till sunrise whenever I texted him a ‘feel depressed lmao.’ He’s always on standby, ready to assist me when I need him, for whatever reason. Even if he wasn’t there, he was somehow able to choreograph his silent dance of support. But I never knew he was this meticulous to take note of my habits, my favourite food and even my period. He knew everything about me at the back of his hand. He really does make me feel some type of way. Perhaps a feeling far beyond love. An unknown feeling that only I could experience since it’s Taeyong. It’s always him. Always have been, and always will be.

I grabbed a big bite, scooping it in my mouth and moaning out dreamily, letting myself sink into the cheesecake and its flavours like a bath. “Fuck this is good. Where’d you get it?” I questioned with immense curiosity. I was genuinely curious. Because I’d love to get more.

Taeyong raised both his brows, his lips forming a thin line as he gave a slightly awkward or nervous cheeky smile. I couldn’t quite tell. “I made it.” He whispered. “No way!” I instantly take another bite, this time with Taeyong in mind. I mean, he already was from the moment he gave me the plate, but with now knowing that he was the one that made it? It suddenly tasted a thousand times better.

“Fucking bake more! Why haven’t I known that you can bake?!” I screamed with excitement. I finished the first slice, now on my way to tackle a second. Taeyong laughed hilariously at my reaction. “Is it that good? It’s my first time trying the recipe.”

“I know you cook like you’ve cooked for me many times but what the heck you should to do this more often. I’d eat it whole.” I squealed as I savoured the cheesecake’s flavours.

“If it’s for you then I’d gladly do it.”

Once again I felt the kindness and love through his voice and tone that’s ever so sweet and gentle. I’d imagine that this was how angels sounded like. Taeyong has always been able to put me at instant peace with just his words alone. Be it through the phone or in person. I always felt calm and protected.

It amazed me just what love could do to you. Everything they do now seemed perfect and beautiful, you blind yourself with their beauty and everything that’s good in them. In Taeyong’s case, I’ve never seen the bad side of him, shockingly enough. I’ve been friends with him for more than five years yet there wasn’t any argument between us that made a major impact on our relationship, if you don’t count those when I wouldn’t talk to him for only one day but we’d be able to act normal after.

We ended up spending the evening watching Netflix. We’ve been through two movies now. The cheesecake was now fully finished as well, down to its crumbs. “Want me to cook dinner?”

“I’m fine with anything.” I blinked my eyes once and a soft smile appeared on my lips. Taeyong hummed softly and nodded his head as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of his slippers can be heard as he shuffled away.

I laid down on the couch, using my phone. A thought suddenly popped in my mind. I instantly peeked my head above the back rest, seeing Taeyong’s back in view as his body swayed slowly by the stove. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He ran a hand through his hair. How can a man look this... amazing. I can’t think of any other ways to describe Taeyong at that moment. Boyfriend material? Stunning? Breathtaking? All of the above.

As much as I wanted to stare at his figure, I had another agenda I had to accomplish before getting back to it. I rose from the couch, slowly and quietly, taking the note out of my sling bag. I walked up to the overwhelmingly large bookshelf. I scanned it carefully, trying to figure out where to place it.

“What are you doing?” I turned instantly at Taeyong’s voice. He was a few steps away from me, two plates of pasta in his hands. He turned around to place them on the table.

I took this chance to quickly slide the note into the shelve. One edge of the note was sticking out. Shit. It wasn’t obvious but it’s still there. I didn’t have any time to adjust it when Taeyong faced his body back to me.

“Just looking. The fact that I’ve read all these books... I’m such a bookworm for reading this much.”

“That’s what I like about you.” I was eyeing the pasta when Taeyong blurted that out. It was quick and soft, I couldn’t make out the words. I could only infer. “What?” I asked purposely, just to see if he’ll answer.

“It’s nothing.” Taeyong shoved a spoonful of pasta into his mouth, adverting his gaze on anything else but me.

I thought about how weird he was acting. It’s the first time I’m noticing that Taeyong’s been acting... wary, cautious of his every move around me. Just as I thought about how he’s clueless and delusional about my feelings for him, it could have been the same for me.

Luckily (Thank the Gods kind of lucky), classes ended early today. And Taeyong told me to meet him at his dance studio. For what reason? I wasn’t actually sure. I headed there, passing by the many other practice rooms till I saw the number that Taeyong told me. I opened the door, seeing Taeyong and two other guys I’m unfamiliar with. All of them turned their heads to me in unison, Taeyong blinding me with a bright smile while the others looked to each other with confusion.

“You came!” Taeyong squealed, running up to me and hugging my tightly. He was extremely sweating. I would try to push him away, but he probably wouldn’t let go and let me suffocate. Thankfully, he didn’t and pulled away, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the other two guys.

“Ten, Mark. This is my friend, _____. I wanted her to come so that we’ll have an audience to show our piece.” Taeyong explained to them freely as he pointed to Ten and Mark respectively, an arm swung around my shoulders. I bowed my head amicably with a smile while they did the same. “You never told me you have a girlfriend, Taeyong.” Ten teased, lightly punching Taeyong’s chest. I couldn’t help but blush a light pink. I swallowed and looked up to him, who had a nervous and shy face on, which I didn’t expect at all.

“We’re best friends, please.” Taeyong denied, no hesitation whatsoever. In my head I wanted to frown but I had to keep a smile on.

“Hey, Ten. Wanna get Starbucks?” Mark suddenly asked, looking at him with a wicked grin as if he’s hinting to Ten about something. Ten was quick to respond, nodding his head with affirmation. “Yeah. I’m thirsty. You should just stay here with her. Need js to get anything?” Ten trailed on while the two of them began to take their wallets out of their bags that were at the back of the practice room.

“You guys are really going all the way to Starbucks that’s a fifteen minute walk from here?” Taeyong asked, extremely shocked. I did walk past Starbucks on my way here, and it is indeed extremely far. What the heck were they trying to do by leaving so abruptly?

“Eh it’s fine. Well we’ll leave you to it! Peace!” And just like that, Ten and Mark have left and it was now just me and Taeyong. The two of us turned to each other and chuckled at the same time. “Come on show me your dance!”

“It’s a duet that I’m doing with Ten. Can’t dance if he’s not here.” I looked up for a moment, thinking. “Dancer by day. Bartender by night. That’s Lee Taeyong.” I spread my hands out with jiggling my fingers as if showing a rainbow and mimicking stars. Taeyong laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Broke university student by day, author by night. That’s _____.”

I looked at him weirdly, eyes narrowing at him as I furrowed my brows. “How am I an author?”

“Eh I just assume you’re one since you’re such a bookworm.” Taeyong fakely rolled his eyes but flashed a cheeky smile after. I smiled back and got closed to him, both hand resting on my hips as I rested my weight on one leg. “So what are we gonna do mister dancer?” I asked with the tone of a child, making me laugh after from how ridiculous I sounded.

Taeyong proceeded to take my tote bag off my shoulder, putting it off to the side with the other bags while he grabbed his phone and went to Spotify. “Let’s dance.” He suggested with confidence. He played a song. It’s one of my favourites. A song that didn’t make me think twice to bob my head to, which I instantly did. “I haven’t danced in years and you know that.”

Specifically, it was six years ago. I used to dance in highschool as extra curricular thing. But in college I started to dance less frequently, and my dance friends and I slowly grew distant. But I was okay with it. I mean, it’s life. The world still had to spin no matter the situation.

“Come on I know you have it in you. Just vibe.” Taeyong swayed his shoulders up and down slowly, grooving to the beat as his whole body began to work its magic, his dancing was at the level of professional ones. I never know why he didn’t want to pursue dance as a career and became a bartender instead.

I slowly moved my body in a weird way. Not dancing for years, your body is bound to be uncomfortable and you’d be looking weird as you move. Which was definitely me. Taeyong laughed at me, making me frown and stopped dancing. He huffed with a smile and held both my hands. Instantly, my legs and body moved in sync with his. It felt amazing dancing with Taeyong. It was fun and carefree. I could dance as stupidly as I want and even though Taeyong could pull off the best dance moves, he’d still choose to dance stupidly along with me. He was able to serve himself as a guidance as I found my groove and vibe that I didn’t have in me for a long time.

When the music stopped, Taeyong’s hands where on my waist, while I had mine on his arms. We turned to the mirror and giggled, throwing out heads back happily.

“You still got it.”

“Make sure to find the ones with pretty spines.”

Taeyong and I decided to head to bookstores today for our monthly book shopping. And while I was carefully reading the synopsis of books that had an interesting title, Taeyong was busy examining their cover pages and the aesthetics, mostly the spine.

“Have you started on the book you told me about?” I asked, flipping the book I just took out to its first chapter to get a feel of the writer’s writing style. “I have, actually.” My head shot to him instantly. He’s read the book. But I remembered putting the note in the back pages of the book. Has he reached there yet? “But I’m a slow reader. And busy. I’m only at the third chapter.”

As much as I was surprised about the fact that he’s speed in reading was extremely slower than what I would consider normal, I couldn’t blame him. He’s body with work most of the time and he has a life to live. Not to mention how it’s the first book he’s actually reading. This is a good example that the gap in terms of our reading abilities are definitely big.

“Liking it so far?” I asked. “Yeah.” Taeyong simply replied as he took a book off the display. “I’m getting this. And these as well.” He giggled like a happy child who’s buying a bunch of toys as birthday present from his parents. He lifted the books up slightly, fiddling around and trying to stack them properly while I closed the book that was in my hands. “I’m just buying this.”

“Seriously? Oh wait nevermind you’re a broke university student.” Taeyong taunted, rolling his eyes. My mouth opened slightly, faking my exasperated as I huffed loudly. “Okay mister bartender. You didn’t have to rub-”

“Oh my God. Taeyong?!”

In unison, the two of us turned around to the noise. A girl was running up to us. The moment she came, she didn’t hesitate to hug Taeyong around his torso. Taeyong chuckled, almost awkwardly and hugged her back.

I took a quick look at them. Their hug made a few things clear to me. One, she’s probably known him for a long time. But if she has, why didn’t Taeyong told me about her before? He shares all his secrets, I pretty much know him from A to Z. So why hasn’t he mention her before? Second, Taeyong was quick to reciprocate the hug, from his awkward form to a loving one. They looked like a couple that hasn’t seen each other in ages; a meaningful reunion.

I wasn’t exactly happy with where this was going. I didn’t like how in an instant, she could simply let herself be in such close proximity with him. I’ve never hugged Taeyong for that long at all. It made me feel a couple of things. Jealousy? Judgmental? Sudden hatred towards her? But why should I? It felt so invalid of me to feel these things.

“It’s been years, Taeyong.” She chuckled happily as they pulled apart. Finally. “Who’s she?” Her finger lifted up to me.

“A friend.” Taeyong answered. Of course, Why did I think I’d be any more than that? Just a friend. We’re just friends. Just.

While they were having a chat about who knows what, I wasn’t exactly paying attention since I simply assumed that it was to catch up with each other. I wondered off to another section of the store. After browsing through a few books, it was then I realised that they weren’t no longer in the store anymore when I got back. They left, Taeyong left. Without telling me. It was my fault for leaving the scene discreetly since I felt like my presence wasn’t needed in their bubble at the time, but why did Taeyong not come find me? Was I... simply forgotten?

I went straight home that day after cashing out the books. I didn’t know where Taeyong went after leaving that that girl, but I didn’t want to act like some busybody who asks something that isn’t her business. I got texts from Taeyong asking if I left yet. Was he planning on returning there after leaving for two hours? He actually expected me to wait. Unbelievable.

After that day, my meetups with him became less frequent. He occasionally replied to my texts. More like one sentence after four or so hours. He still updates his socials. And it was all about her. Photos, videos. They were hanging out together more often. For some reason, it felt like she was a replacement; my replacement. I somewhat distanced myself away from Taeyong thinking, “I assume you don’t need me anymore so I’ll stay out of your way.”

But one day, out of pure curiosity, I decided to follow them to a cafe. Taeyong did text me that he’d be heading there, but I left him on seen. Like I said, I’m slowly removing myself out of his picture.

I sat at the corner of the cafe, black jacket, black cap and large black sunglasses. I looked like a stalker in the eyes of strangers. I mean, I was.

I covered myself further by holding up a book to my face. As I continuously stared at them, I grew bored. Don’t get me wrong, I was feeling negative. I didn’t like how she’s teasingly touching Taeyong’s arm, how they laughed happily together and chatting as if they’re in their own little world. But I started to wonder why I even came here. I did want to see what they’re like. But I’m making myself feel more bad this way.

I decided to write a note. I was done with the book I’m currently holding. All I needed to do was give it to Taeyong. With the note. I took out a random piece of paper from my tote bag, fishing out for a pen as well and began to write.

It’s my 145th letter. Fuck how long am I going to do this? Might sound weird, but I’m currently looking at you. Watching you with her. Why does it feel like you’re happier with her? You’re smiling, laughing more. You’re more brighter. I mean you have always been bright. But you just... radiate differently; a new type of glow I never knew you had. I saw your socials, constantly posting about her. I’m jealous, very. I want to be like that with you. But it just feels wrong, perhaps not right. Like I shouldn’t be craving for you. For your touch, your whispers, giggles. Why do I feel like this? The more you spend time with her, the more I realise that my chances of getting you is slowly slipping away from my grasp. But why can’t I move? Why don’t I want to move? I’m not sure what’s stopping me. And that’s what I’m fearing the most.

I felt my cheeks getting wet. It took me awhile to realise that I was balling my eyes out, slowly and painfully. I took off my sunglasses for a moment to wipe off excess tears before putting them back on. I can’t belive I’m crying. I looked down to the note. A tear fell onto it, a spot crinkled as it left a visible mark of my feelings. Just as I was sniffing, constantly having to wipe my cheeks dry since my tears were getting uncontrollable, I looked out the window. And what stood on the opposite side shocked me.

I knocked on the glass, his head turning quickly. He looked around inside the cafe, not sure of where the signal came from. I knocked once again. He looked down on me and I took off my sunglasses, pulling down my hood.

“Nakamoto Yuta?” I mouthed to him, my lips moving widely so he could read them. His eyes blinked rapidly and he leaned in before widening them after realising who I was. We take a few of the same classes. I see him often in school. But we never really talked. He immediately rushed into the cafe, covering his face as if hiding his identity and running up to my table to take a seat.

“Why were you looking in like some stalker?” I asked, pulling my hood back over my head as I lowered myself, my eyes still fixated on Taeyong.

“You look more like one than I do.” Yuta commented. I notice how he was constantly turning around, specifically to Taeyong’s direction. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m looking at them.” He pointed his finger out ever so slightly. And as I predicted, he was referring to Taeyong and the girl. “You know Taeyong?” I immediately asked, extremely curious as to why he was spying on them just like I was. “No, but I know Jiung.” So that’s her name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Of course.

“And why are you doing that exactly?” Yuta let out a huff, leaning in with his elbows on the table, his shoulder rising up to his ears. “Because I want to see what they’re on about. I keep seeing her with that Taeyong guy. I like Jiung so I’m jealous.” I puckered my lips and nodded. My face showed as if I shrugged it off. But my mind began turning its gears. So he likes Jiung and he’s jealous of them together? He has the same reason of me coming here as well. What forces swirled around the world for us to come together like this? It’s weird how coincidentally the situation was.

“I actually came for the same reason as you. I like Taeyong, and I’m jealous of Jiung.” I frowned slightly, a sigh leaving my lips. I opened up to him quick about my situation since I felt a sense of similarity with him. He probably wouldn’t remember anyways. It’s not like we’ll be crossing paths in the future.

“Were you crying? Your eyes are hella puffy.” He asked suddenly. I breathed out a laugh awkwardly. I gulped and cleared my throat, thinking that I should shove all my feeling down so I wouldn’t look even more ridiculous in front of Yuta. “Yeah.” I quickly slid the note in between a random page.

“Funny how we met here. For the same reasons. It’s like fate.” I couldn’t agree more. “An idea just came to my mind.” Oh no.

Yuta has always been the class clown, saying out his ideas that were completely mind blowing and far fetched. His way of thinking is... unique, in a funny way. I got somewhat nervous after he said that sentence, you can never guess what he’s thinking about or get a clear grasp of the way he thinks.

“How about we try splitting them up?” I didn’t reply, his words slowly resonating in my mind. He can’t be serious, right? But why am I slowly being persuade by an unknown force?

I have yet to say a word, my eyes still on them as I was deep in thought, wondering about all the possible outcomes of me agreeing and disagreeing, weighing them carefully so that I could make the more beneficial decision.

“Come on. You’ll get to be with Taeyong more. And I’ll have Jiung. Win-win situation, right?”

I sighed, inhaling as my chest puffs up.

“Alright.”

Yuta: How’s it going?

Me: amazingg :D

“Who are you texting?” Taeyong asked, I placed my phone down to the side, screen faced down. “No one.”

This is the sixteenth outing with Taeyong after that day. I was able to spend time with Taeyong a lot more, just like before. And probably just like it should. I’ve seen Yuta posting more often on his Instagram stories, mostly of him and Jiung. Our plan of keeping them apart is working. Though Yuta told me that it was Jiung who’s constantly asking to meet up with Taeyong, he was able to force her to hang out with him instead, giving her no chance whatsoever. It was extremely helpful.

I know this whole situation sounds as if I’m being evil or whatever you call it. But why wouldn’t I accept a chance to be closer to Taeyong?

“Should we head to the carnival after this? Or desserts first? Oh I want to head to that new ice cream shop! Ten said it’s delicious but extremely crowded. I don’t mind waiting since I’ll have you to annoy.” Taeyong rambled on. I laughed happily, taking in this moment. I want to treasure such simple moments like these. I want it to be in a snow globe; something remembered forever.

“Do anything you please, Yong.” I chuckled, flashing an eye smile.

Just then, the bell above the restaurant’s door opened, signalling a new costumer coming in. Taeyong widened his eyes at the door. I tilted my head at his weird action, turning around to see just what made him react that way.

“Jiung?” “Yuta?” The two of us whispered at the same time.

Jiung’s eyes immediately went to Taeyong, her face lighting up at the sight of him as she tried to make her way over. But Yuta stopped her by the shoulders. I now understood what Yuta meant by saying, “She’s so attracted to him.”

While Jiung was struggling to eacape Yuta’s strong grasp, Taeyong was halfway off his seat. I immediately reached a hand to place on his arm. “Where you going?” I asked, faking a smile when in reality I was getting nervous.

“Wanting to say hi to Jiung.” Taeyong was about to alide himself off his seat so I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him in the most natural way possible. “I don’t think you should. She seems busy.” I tugged on his arm slightly, an attempt to get him to sit back down. “But it looks like she’s struggling. I- Wait here.” Taeyong noticed how I was trying so hard to stop him from leaving. He raised a brow and shook my hand off in an instant, his strength powering over my desires.

I followed behind him. Taeyong forcefully removed Yuta away from Jiung and Yuta’s eyes immediately glanced to mine. Both of us sending nervous signals to each other in that split second. “What the hell were you doing to her?” Taeyong growled lowly, his voice and tone suddenly growing dark as he held Jiing’s wrist, his body standing in front of hers as if he’s protecting her.

“I was just getting her out of the restaurant since it’s quite packed.” Yuta awkwardly replied with an excuse. “No you were purposely stopping me from going to Taeyong.” Jiung fought back. I stood there frozen, watching by the sidelines as nervousness started rising in me. Are they going to find out about my plan with Yuta?

“I think it’s just a misunderstanding. You two can go now.” I ripped Taeyong’s tight hold around Jiung’s wrist, dragging him back to stand beisde me. “I just want to chat with Taey-”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Move along now.” I tried to shove Yuta and Jiung out the door. Taeyong’s hand suddenly gripped onto mine. I looked up instantly.

“Pause. You’re very acting weird. What’s going on?” Taeyong’s voice was raised higher than before. A few people were staring at us. “Nothing...” I whispered, looking down. I was now scared to the bone. I didn’t know what to reply, how to cover it up. It’s gonna have to slip out eventually. At least I was able to be with Taeyong more often.

“Yuta and I planned for you guys to never meet again.” That’s it. It’s all over. With that simple line of confession, the truth was now out. No where left to hide or run. Yuta smacked me on the arm, making me wince. “What the heck?!” He half-shouted in a whisper.

“Are you serious? And for what? Jealous or something?” Taeyong was mad. So mad. And I felt it. I was so scared. I was shivering with every word he said. I gulped, avoiding eye contact with him. I didn’t need to give a reply. My body has said it all. A moment of silence filled with tension circled around us. Suddenly, Taeyong stormed out.

I panicked, immediately going back to the table we were at to grab my belongings and rushed out, wanting to stop Taeyong. I looked around frantically. I spotted him walking down the street on the left. I ran as fast as I could, my hand reaching out for him as I shouted his name countless of times, but he doesn’t respond as if he was deaf.

“Taeyong, please!” I cried out. I finally had his wrist tightly around my fingers. He turned around sharply. He tried to walk away, but I tried harder to grip onto the hem of his sweater tighter. “What?”

I realised at that very moment that I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to stop him, but I never thought of what to do afterwards. I wanted to say “Don’t leave.” But it never left my lips.

I stood there silently, my thumb caressing against the cloth as I bit my lip hard. “Hello?” Taeyong asked, annoyed. That one simple word hit me, right on the heart. It was like an arrow, painfully accurate at where its being shot. Just as how one word from him could light up my day, and one word from him can make it come crashing down as well. His change in tone and mood was quick and intense. I couldn’t stop thinking about being terrified.

I eventually took in a deep breath, opening my tote bag and taking out the book that I have forgotten to give him that day while I was spying on him.

“Here. Have it, as a present.” I brushed a hand down the back of my head, my fingers combing through the ends as I turned around and walked away in the opposite direction after shoving the book to Taeyong’s chest, remembering the note was somewhere in there but I never bothered knowing exactly where.

My breathing started to become unstable. The further I walked away, the urge of falling down to the ground and collapsing became stronger. But I continued walking, telling myself to stay strong the whole way till I reach home. “You can cry on the floor all you want. Just quickly get home now.” I kept whispering to myself, begging my legs to speed up but my wobbly knees were not helping.

I cried that night. Very hard. The whole scene of kept replaying like a movie tape. All I could think about was how mad Taeyong looked. With his voice and eyes. It was a look I’ve never seen on him before. It was like a completely new side of him. The entire opposite of what he usually was. I now realised that he’s one of those “Their all butterflies and rainbows till they get pissed off.” That phrase cannot be any more true in regards to Taeyong.

Every day I tried to meet Taeyong. At the bar, his home, the bookstore. Anywhere he could be. He wasn’t replying to my texts, or calls. He probably blocked me. And on his socials as well. He wasn’t responding to me at all. I got worried sick. Is he never going to talk to me ever again?

Constantly, I mentally slammed my head against an imaginary wall, thinking about how I never thought of this outcome while weighing out the possible aftermath of the decision I made. How could I be so stupid, so reckless?

I eventually gave up trying to get in contact with him. He needed time and space away from me, completely. The hole this made in my heart was deep, like a dried up well with vines that has sharp long thorns growing in them. And every time I thought about Taeyong, I am constantly being pierced by those thorns of regret and agony, pricking deeper into my skin the more I fell deeper.

It was choking me; Taeyong’s absence. I couldn’t breathe at all. I was sinking, gasping for air each time I longed for him. I just wanted him back. I wanted things to get back to normal. I wanted to be us again.

Two months have passed. It was the worst two months of my life. Worst than the exam stress I had for last year’s final project. I had university to worry about on top of Taeyong. I was mentally going through hell. And again, the worst one yet. And it was now that I realised, I’d be much better off having him as a friend than anything less. But I was selfish enough to not treasure it that way, and it’s now finally gone. Completely out of my reach.

One night, I was up. Doing assignments. Nothing’s new. Nothing’s changed. Taeyong has yet to open up to me. I glanced at the clock on my phone, groaning as I let my head fall on the table. I closed my eyes. I was too stressed. The world’s spinning too fast. I needed it to stop for awhile. My brain can’t bear this much.

As if on cue, the door bell rang while I lifted my head off the table. My head slowly turned to my room door. The bell rang again. A few seconds later, it rang yet again. Whoever’s outside was frustrated or something, jamming their fingers on the bell while saying “I’ll keep annoying you till you open this damn door.”

I pushed my chair back and walked over to the door. I looked through the peek hole. Taeyong...? I opened the door. On instinct, I grabbed him by his waist while his body fell on me. His face tilted up to meet mine. His cheeks were flushed red. His eyes were half opened and looking around as if stars are swirling above his head. He’s drunk.

“Good night. I wanna go in.” Taeyong whispered. Yup, he’s drunk. His breath reeked or alcohol as he spoke. I stood there for a moment, needing to process the current situation. At three in the morning, Taeyong showed up here drunk. I can think about why later. But now I had to figure out a way to carry his heavy body into the living room.

Taeyong wrapped his arms around my waist, sticking his body against mine. “You’re so warm.” I blinked rapidly. I looked down on him. I can’t believe it. He’s here. After two months of ignoring, he can simply show up here. Drunk, even. Worst of all, I still had the love to move along with this. The anger was still there. It’s just that his sudden presence made me forget about it a little while.

Out of the blue, like a marionette on strings, he jerkily push himself off me and staggered his way to the lviing room. I followed closely behind, not bothering to turn on the lights. I didn’t feel the need to. I sat down at the edge of the couch while he laid his body down. He giggled to himself and muttered things I couldn’t understand. I know what he’s like when drunk. Unstable, crazy, a lightweight. Will not remember a single thing the next morning.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not even sure why. Why did I bother asking when he won’t remember any of this the next day? Well, he’s here now. And no matter what state he was in, I just wanted answers.

“To thank you. Me thank you. Mwah!” Taeyong puckered his lips in the end, eyes closed and shaking his head furiously. His fluffy hair moving along. I smacked my bottom lip and nodded. “For what exactly?”

“For getting rid of Jiung for me. She’s so annoying. I’d much rather be with you.” Taeyong mumbled, finger slowly pointing up to me. Unconsciously, I pointed back to myself too. “Me?” Taeyong pursed his lips into a thin line and nodded firmly. “Uhuh. Yes, right. Mhm.”

I kept silent for a moment. “That wasn’t really what I got from how you reacted two months ago.” Suddenly, Taeyong forcefully gripped onto my wrist, pulling me down. I let out a soft gasp, realising that my body was laying on top of his. We stared at each other for a long while, the close proximity making it so that I could feel his cold breath on my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I breathed heavily as I felt my face getting hot. Stop it. Why are you falling for him too quickly?

“Go home, Taeyong.” I whispered so softly in a calming and light tone. Taeyong whined in response. He was now pouting with his big boba eyes. He looked like a sad puppy. My heart instantly melted at the sight. I couldn’t resist. “I’m staying here.” He said in a high pitch voice, hugging me closer and putting me in an uncomfortable position for my body. Regardless, I stayed.

After two months he was finally here, and in my arms. This night might not mean anything to him but it made me feel relived. The fact that he remembered my house, my name, me. Whether it was just the alcohol driving him to do such things that are out of his control, I didn’t mind. All I needed was for him to be here. It felt good to be with him for that one night. Just one night was all I needed. It didn’t stop my anger for him about the fact that he ignored me, but I was okay with it. That night, I let it go. All I wanted was to feel such peace with Taeyong.

We ended up sleeping together on the small couch. I woke up with terrible body aches but either way, I sighed in relief when I woke up before Taeyong. I tried finding his phone, that was hidden under the crack of the cushions. I typed in his password. I memorise it like how he memorise mine. I went to his contacts and called the one person I knew.

“I have a favour to ask, Ten.” I said nervously as I watch him carry Taeyong into his car. He hummed, pulling his head out of the car and slamming the door. “Don’t tell him he went here.” Ten gave a half-shrug, nodding his head in response. “Sure. I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but it seems like a lot. Should solve it soon.”

“Yeah... I hope so.”

16th October.

I’ve lost count on the number of love letters I’ve given you. I can’t give them to you anymore, since you don’t even want anything to do with me. I can’t blame you. I knew you’d be pissed. I was hesitant on doing it but I was so selfish, wanting you all to myself. But what can I do, Taeyong? I’ve wanted you for so long. Yet you’re so delusional of my feelings. How could you have not read any of of my letters? Perhaps you have and chose to ignore it. That’s more painful than you being upfront and rejecting me. As much as I allow you to hate on me, I’d still say this. Fuck you, Lee Taeyong.

23rd October.

I saw you at the bar. You look... happy. Without me. You act as if nothing happened. Like I never happened. I wonder if you’re just putting on an act, or are you actually okay without me by your side. Are you still mad? Did you forget about it but have gotten use to not being with me? I want to know Taeyong so please, respond. That’s all I ask from you. Fuck that. You don’t even have to talk. I just want you here with me. Whether the air around us will be filled with tension, I don’t care. What I’m going through, is not nice, Taeyong. It is punishment for my actions. But how long do I have to keep it up? How long to I have to suffer to take a breath? For you to pull me out of this mess with your forgiveness. I’m falling apart.

14th December.

Wow. It’s December already. I’m sitting at the park we go to every Christmas. We’d be freezing to death but still glued to the bench chatting about life since we just loved being out in the snow. And yet, you never got back to me. I found out from Jiung that you left the country but never said where. I miss you, Lee Taeyong. I’m tired. So tired, of constantly penning my feelings down on pieces of paper. Words I can never say to you out loud, are all in the letters in your books that you never bothered to open. I even hid one between the books of your huge ass shelf. Why haven’t you said anything about them? I know I should move on, because it really does seem like you never want to talk to me ever again. I’m losing hope, more faster than before as each day pass, wondering where the hell as you and how you’re doing. I keep telling myself “Let it be. Let him have his moment.” But I wonder if you ever think about how I’m bearing all of this as well. That without you, I might never be able to forgive myself.

I slide the notes under Taeyong’s apartment door. I knew he was out of the country. Some nights I’d sit by his door, the note in hand as I envision him in his house. I couldn’t think about what he’s doing. And I constantly ponder about it. Is he eating well? Sleeping well? Is he enjoying himself wherever he’s at? Months passed. And as time went on, I began to wonder if my letters were even worth writing. Why was I giving so much? Why am I going through such lengths, physically and emotionally, for Taeyong to be okay? Why am I bearing such emotions when it’s not even certain that I’ll be given the same in return.

I’m making a promise to myself. I’ll let go of Lee Taeyong. I’ll slowly, bit by bit, remove my feelings out of my heart. It’s not worth it, I kept telling myself. I’m meaninglessly suffering for someone who is isn’t appreciating it. So why should I go on? I loved you, Lee Taeyong. I changed my words. I loved you.

And that was the last love letter I wrote.

Along my journey to forgetting Taeyong, I suffered a lot. I was always drawn back to him. I was always willing to put my pen on paper and just write something to him. About anything. It was a bad habit that needed to stop. I had to let go years of feelings that were being pilled up in my heart. And it was something that’s extremely hard to let go. But other than my own factors, there were external, circumstantial ones as well. Whether it was coincidental or not, that was something I can never know the answer to.

I was on my laptop, casually scrolling through Pinterest to calm myself with the aesthetics of random things. Room decor, clothing ideas, handsome idols. Anything that can take my mind off my billions of overloaded projects for awhile.

I didn’t know how, but I ended up looking at quotes, Japanese ones to be exact. The deep meaning of words. Some were heartfelt while other were heartbreaking. I read them off casually till I paused at one.

‘Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.’

I scoffed to myself, pinching my temples as I shook my head. It’s just like you, Lee Taeyong. “Fucking hell.” I mumbled, slamming the laptop shut. I’ve been able to not think about Taeyong for a long time now. Or at least I felt like it was a long time. I wasn’t going to let a word get me off course. I placed my laptop on the bed and went back to my study table, suddenly feeling motivated to continue as a way to distract myself from thinking about him.

Thinking that I wouldn’t be facing that state of dilemma again, I just so happen to see a quote the first thing I entered Pinterest.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate ways.’

I was then reminded of Taeyong yet again. But I don’t think I was thinking about him as a person, but our relationship. Just our relationship. Having to part ways as a mean to reunite. That’s something I found hard to believe. Why am I having hope that it’ll happen when I highly doubt I’ll experience it? Why is my mind slowly pulling me back to the memories I have with Taeyong? I want him long gone. I want him holed up in the corner of my mind, out of sight, out of mind. But things are always popping up randomly around me, and it all reminded me of him. I feel like it’s his doing, funny enough. Constantly hinting about him with almost everything I come across.

“What the fuck?”

I looked at the Youtube home screen and what was recommended for me. One of the videos had Taeyong’s name. And his face was on the thumbnail. The title? Lee Taeyong | Freestyle dance | Paris In The Rain (Lauv) My finger moved on its own, bringing the cursor to the video and clicking on it.

As I expected, the video was taken in Paris. So that’s where he has been. He was in Paris this whole time without my notice. I was shocked to find that the video has tons of likes and view. I read through the comments. They were all swooning over Taeyong.

“Who wouldn’t?” I said to myself. I scrolled up and played the video. My eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second. I was frozen, not being able to move an inch as I watched, completely in awe. Firstly, Taeyong has his hair dyeda light ashy grey or blue. It suited him well, all too well. His dancing was immensely beautiful. Anyone would fall for him. Visuals, talent. He has it all. Dancer by day, bartender by night. He looked so free and alive in his dance. Serving the world with a hard punch with his deep emotions that were imbued perfectly into his movements.

I bit my lower lip. Fuck. I felt it. The goosebumps, the quivering of my lips. My eyes started to well up with tears. “No, this is not happening again.” The video was still playing, the music ringing in my ears but I couldn’t bear to look at the video. I was watching Taeyong, living the perfect life in Paris. What more could he needed? I clearly wasn’t in his equation. I’m completely gone, removed out of his life. No trace of my presence to be found.

The longer I think, the more I forced myself not to cry. Eventually, being weakling I am, I ended up falling deep into the harsh and intense whirl pool that is my feelings once again, a place I never visited in a long while. The feelings started dancing in my mind like butterflies flapping in unison to the soundtrack of my sadness. I could only assume that it’s what the world wants. It’s how it wants to spin, how it wants to work.

Eight months. I actually counted how long I’ve lost contact with Taeyong for. It didn’t bother me. I was trying to live a life. It’s getting better. It took a lot of baby steps. But I’m feeling a whole lot lighter now. It’s March.

I was walking back from University when my phone started vibrating in my hand since I’ve always left it on silent mode. I lifted it up. It was an unknown number. Instinctively, I chose to not pick up the call. But a few seconds later, the same number showed up on the screen. With a light groan, I picked up and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello? Who is this?” I asked formally, waiting by the traffic light. I heard the person on the other hand breathe out a chuckle, almost like a disappointed kind. “Who the-”

“So you deleted my number?” That voice... No doubt. It was Lee fucking Taeyong. “Meet me. My home. You got ten minutes.” The call ended.

Rapidly blinking my eyes, I slowly brought down the phone. I read over the number again. It was Taeyong’s phone. Why didn’t I remember it? I used to know it. It’s one of the few things I used to be able to tell off the top of my head. “Ten minutes?” I looked at the time.

I don’t know what urged me, but I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The unknown force. It was unfamiliarly familiar. If that made sense. I was able to live a life without Taeyong. I was. I was capable of it. And that’s what I did. But at the very moment, I felt the need to see him. The spontaneous out of the blue kind of feel. It was all just pouring out of me.

I stood at his doorstep, hand on my chest and other as support for my body against the wall. Panting heavily, I tried to slowly calm myself down. I gulped, and rang the doorbell. No turning back.

The door flung open. And there stood Taeyong. He still had his ashy hair colour. His face never changed a single bit. Nor did his overall physique. He was still handsome, breathtaking. “Come in.”

I sucked my lips and sidled in timidly and warily. Nothing has changed in his house as well. The large bookshelf with the television in the centre. I started to remember the love letters. All of them are hidden in the pages of the books in that very shelf. It reminded me of my feelings for him.

I sat down on the leather couch as Taeyong disappeared into the kitchen. I kept my head faced forward, placing my tote bag down, leaning it against the couch on the floor. Taeyong came back moments later. Two plates with a slice of cheesecake. He handed on to me. “Try it.” He said.

I slowly took a bite. Chewing on it, I scrunched up my nose, placing the plate down on the table. “I hate it. Tastes too artificial.” I commented dryly. Taeyong chuckled and cleared his throat. “Knew you’d say that.” Taeyong shoved a bite into his mouth, eating it as he placed the plate beside mine. “Want to know why you’re here?”

I bobbed my shoulders. This atmosphere, the air between us. It wasn’t awkward at all. Though our words were dry and short, it felt normal. It wasn’t weird being next to him after not seeing him for eight months.

Taeyong stood up, taking small steps to the shelf. As if practiced, he pulled out one letter from a book, another, and another, and another. It was never ending. It took him at least ten minutes to slide out all the letters and placing them on the table. I silently watch, my anxiety turning up a notch with each letter.

He finally took what I hoped was the last letter and went back to sit next to me. A specific letter is held in his hand. He unfolded it, placing the paper on the table and turning it so that I could read.

It was my last love letter.

“So you knew.” I whispered, looking down, leaning forward as I laced my fingers together. I took in a deep breath, my eyes scanning down the note before turning my head to Taeyong. “Then why the fuck didn’t you do anything about it?”

Taeyong lifted the paper off the table, holding it in front of him. He reread it. Running a hand through hair, chest puffing up as he inhaled and exhaled sharply. “Because I wanted you to keep writing to me.”

“What...?” That was definitely not an answer I was expecting.

Taeyong licked his lips, smacking them before sniffling a rubbing his nose. He lets out a weak chuckle. “I liked them. From your handwriting, to your words. I felt it; your love, with each letter.” He whispered softly.

I simply couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was the explanation and truth I’ve been wanting to hear for months. This is what kept me up at night, what led me to have my mental breakdowns, the constant ‘what if’s I formulated throughout. “You just like them? Taeyong if you’re rejecting fucking do it now-” I was about to scream, but Taeyong was quick to cut me off.

“In a way it felt like you were writing a book. One just for me. That’s why I never bothered to read any other books. I just needed yours. Your... simply overpowering pain in the heart love letters.” Taeyong smiled down at the letter, hovering his fingers over the words.

“And I don’t just like the love letters. I love the author. Paris made me realise that. It took me that long. And I’m sorry for how long you needed to wait.”

“What do you love about the author?”

I could tell Taeyong was taken aback by that question. And I knew he would react that way. He still knew me well, bouncing back and giving a confident answer.

“I don’t want to sound common by saying it’s her smile, laughter, brightness. But it truly is what I love about her. All the times we’ve spent were filled with nothing but pure bliss. Serenity, is what I feel when I’m with her. Longing, like I was meant to be by her side. I’ve known her long enough to know every single detail about her, ones that maybe she doesn’t even know herself. Like how drinks two straws when she’s sad, or having the habit of twiddling her thumbs when she’s excited. Little things like those, I find them adorable. No matter what she is, a nerd, weirdo, plain crackhead, it’s... the energy, her own energy. A light and force only she could illuminate.”

I couldn’t say anything. I frozen stiff by his words. He actually meant it. I could feel it through his voice. He stuttered here and there nervously, finding words to say. But he was able to structure them in the most beautiful way possible. I had no words to say.

Suddenly, Taeyong slowly brought his hand up to cup my cheek. That one touch alone made me feel a lot of things. It was like I was hit by a huge wave of feelings all bunched up together and crashing over me. But it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. It was overwhelming, but I was calm. I was at peace. It felt good. Just this.

He slowly and carefully swiped his thumbs across my cheeks like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. His touch was lightweight and simply serene. “Another thing the author doesn’t know about herself is that she really doesn’t know when she’s crying and spilling out tears.”

I blinked my eyes, Taeyong smoothing his hands from my cheeks and to my shoulders, placing them there firmly as his eyes stared into mine. I can’t exactly explain what I felt. But it was like the stars aligned, as cliche as that sounds.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate way.’ I resonated with this now. I understood what it meant. Our months of separation were all for this exact moment. Both of us suffered, one trying to find themselves again while the other needing the time to realise that what’s most valuable was right in front of him. We needed that gap, for us to reunite and actually be able to love each other properly and willingly. Which definitely would not be a trouble now.

[house-of-galathynius]

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy! 

Prologue ~ Chapter Two

Chapter One: Meeting 

 Summer had always been Aelin’s favourite time of the year. It was the soft breezes and the long days, the late nights. It was the time of year where she didn’t have to be a princess. There was no need for the formalities or the pretending. 

Summer was the season of freedom. 

And when she had woken up that morning, the sun was still low in the sky, the mist dancing between the trees and the bird song was mellowed, quieter somehow. She had known that summer was over; her Fae senses could feel the shift of the season. Summer giving way to the crispness of autumn. And despite the peacefulness and beauty of autumn, it was also her least favourite time of the year.

Court would begin again. Gone would be the long nights of stargazing, the lazy days lounging in the sun with a book or the trips to the Staghorns; now was the time for her royal duties to start once again. 

A gentle tap of the door had Aelin groaning and shifting in bed. 

“Your Highness? Your father would like to know if you will be eating breakfast with them this morning.” Her maid Elspeth was one of the good ones. She was in her late forties and had been with Aelin for her entire twenty years. She was a short woman, her hair starting to grey at the roots, her cheeks always rosy and plump. But Aelin loved her like a mother.

Elspeth slid into the room and closed the door behind her, she strode over to the towering windows which looked out over the forest beyond the castle. The thick curtains were opened to reveal a grey morning. Elspeth didn’t wait for a response from Aelin as she continued her way around the room to the balcony on the far side. She opened the doors and Fleetfoot, Aelin’s beloved dog perked up and trotted off to the fresh air. 

Elspeth was well versed in the ways of Aelin. Which is why her final task was to perch on the edge of her bed and pull the covers back. 

“Aelin, you have guests arriving today.” 

She shot up in bed, staring at Elspeth. She had forgotten about the guests. If she had, she definitely would have been up earlier. She said as much. 

“The Queen of Doranelle, Sellene Whitethorn is arriving with her family.” 

Of course. There had been turmoil in Doranelle for many years and finally, only a few months ago, they had decided on a new queen. It had been a surprise to her Uncle Orlon when it had been announced, but nonetheless, had extended an invitation to visit once the new queen had settled into her new role. Just as the offer would be extended to me one day- when I became queen. 

“I suppose I cannot get away with my usual attire today?” She said. Elspeth laughed and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. A dress will be required.” 

Elspeth had picked a simple yet regal gown in a deep Terrasen green. Elspeth tried and failed to get Aelin to braid her hair, or at least put it into a simple updo. But Aelin enjoyed her hair free, the long blonde locks were one of her favourite assets, and never understood the need to hide it. 

She surveyed herself in the mirror, despite her late night with Sam, she looked awake and bright eyed. Ready for a day of acting like a princess. 

When Aelin arrived into the breakfast room, her father and mother were already seated, Orlon too. She took up the seat beside her mother and smiled apologetically to the three of them. Tardiness was one of her weaknesses and had frustrated all of them to no end. But with the night she had just had… if only her parents knew. 

“Late night again, Aelin?” Orlon grinned. He had always been privy to Aelin’s whereabouts, where she would sneak off to, who she would meet. 

Sam was not royal, in fact, he held no title in Terrasen. He had moved when he had been sixteen years old; escaping the grips of an assassin in Rifthold. He had stowed away on a ship, not knowing where it was going, but hoping that anywhere was better than before. He arrived in Terrasen with a few coins and his wits about him. He’d managed to secure work at a library. The owner had been old and frail, unable to lift the books, unable to do much at all. Sam had taken it upon himself to help in any way he could. And six years later he was the proud owner. It’s where Aelin had met him. Since then, she had been sneaking off to see Sam every chance she could; the only person knowing being Orlon. 

She knew it could never be more than it was with Sam, a reason why she had been so quick to shut down his offer the night before. And despite Terrasen being a forward-thinking country— the King was married to a man for Gods sake— they still drew the line at commoners and royalty marrying, or even being involved, the only exception being a mating bond; something so rare and final that no King or God could argue with it. So she tried to enjoy the stolen moments she had with Sam. Avoiding the advances of any foreign royalty that may come her way. The King only allowing it on the condition that when a serious offer of marriage arose, Aelin would accept and take her place as the next heir to the throne. She loved Sam, and on occasion had been angry at the impossibility of it being anything other than what it was now.

There was the other problem of her immortal lifespan. Sam was human and at some point it would have to end anyway.

“Did you forget about the arrival of the Whitethorns today?” Her father asked.

“It may have slipped my mind.” An easy lie. She took a bite of the pastry in front of her, savouring the sweetness. “But I am here now, and ready to be the perfect princess.” Another bite. 

Her mother chuckled to herself, sipping on the herbal tea that she would drink every morning without fail. Orlon cleared his throat, giving her a look. 

“The queen is new to this Aelin. We must ensure she is welcomed and feels comfortable during her stay.” 

A roll of her eyes. “I think I can manage being nice for a few days.” 

“Weeks.”

She stopped mid-chew. 

“The Whitethorns will be here for at least three weeks. Their castle is under renovations, so we offered them a place to stay whilst they were underway.” 

She had never heard of such a thing. A new queen, leaving her territory for weeks? 

“Darling, you are not expected to entertain them alone, nor be present at every minute.” Her mother had always been the diffuser; ensuring the conversations remained civil, if not for her sanity, for the sake of Aelin’s temper that had resulted in a few fires. “But the sneaking off will have to stop. Lysandra will understand.” Lysandra being Aelin’s excuse for when she was actually sneaking off to see Sam. 

She smiled politely and confirmed that she would be well behaved for when the guests arrived.

And that was that. 

She finished breakfast quickly and excused herself before they could make her stay longer. Aelin made her way to the training ground just beyond the walls of the garden. Orlon had had it built when it was evident Aelin needed a place to train with her powers. Fire magic was a rare gift, one that hadn’t been in the royal family since Brannon. She was grateful for the space, even if she no longer needed to train to the same extent. Only meeting with her trainer once every month.

“I thought I might find you here.” Lysandra’s voice echoed across the stones. “Hiding?” Lysandra laughed. 

“Something like that.” 

Lysandra was silent as she perched on the stone bench, watching as Aelin made shields of flame, as she danced the fire through her fingers and flung her powers towards the wall.

“I won’t be available for a while Lys. The Queen of Doranelle and her family are arriving today.” Aelin held the flame in her palm. “I need you to send a message to Sam for me.”

Lysandra had been the daughter of one of her mothers maids. And when her mother had died, Aelin’s mother could not stand the thought of Lysandra going to an orphanage. So she had housed Lysandra and trained her as a lady-in-waiting for Aelin. And even though they hated each other as children, the older they got the more they understood the other. 

“I heard one of the Whitethorn princes is extremely handsome. Do you think he’d be interested?” Aelin snorted. Any person would be insane not to be attracted to Lysandra. 

“Gods help the poor male if you pursue him.” Aelin returned to her flame.

“We all know that you’re going to marry me one day.” 

They both whirled at the sound of the male voice at the archway. Aedion stood there in all his glory. He wore a midnight blue jacket and dark pants, clothes for important people, Aelin thought. It was envy that Aelin was feeling. Aedion may be a prince, but he would never be King; marrying Lysandra would never be a problem, if she ever agreed, that was. 

Lysandra rolled her eyes and flipped her hair to the side. “Aedion, we both know you can’t handle me.” 

“We’ll see, Lysandra.” Mischief glittering in his eyes. 

Aedion took his wandering eyes away from Lysandra and back to Aelin, who had already lost interest in their banter. 

“What do you want Aedion? Aelin and I were busy.” 

“I’m here to tell Aelin that the Whitethorns will be here any moment, and her father wishes for her to be in the great hall to welcome them.” 

No peace. Summer was well and truly over then. Her flame flickered out and she brushed down her dress that was lightly coated in dust. She shook out her hair and let it fall past her shoulders, running her fingers through it to release any tangles. 

“How do I look?” 

“Like your father is going to kill you when he see’s the mess on your clothes.” Aedion held his arm out, she linked hers through it and smiled back at Lysandra who was brushing her own dress down.

“I’ll see you later Aelin.” A smile. “Always a pleasure, Aedion.” And then she was gone. 

Aelin and Aedion strolled down the path that led back into the gardens and then into the tall white palace of Orynth. The guards bowed their heads as she passed, the only acknowledgement that they would give. They continued into the palace, the halls empty of people. 

“Did they have to put out so many flowers? I feel like I’m just going to sneeze the entire time.” Aedion laughed, but didn’t respond as they approached the doors to the great hall. 

The room was only ever used for special occasions, I suppose a new queen included that. The room was large, taking up an entire wing of the castle, it’s ceiling tall, gold chandeliers dropping from it. The walls were painted white, with green and gold accents dotted around— the colours of Terrasen. The room was magnificent, every inch dripping in wealth and splendour. 

When she entered she dropped into a low curtsey. Orlon was sat atop the Antler Throne, his eyes fixed on her and Aedion— who was also bowing low. Her father and mother were sat on two smaller seats to Orlon’s left. A second, smaller throne rested next to Orlon’s; for the consort of the king. Which was unusually empty; Orlon’s husband usually filling the spot. 

As soon as she was in her place and everyone else were in their correct spots the guard at the end of the hall announced the arrival of the first Whitethorn family members. Aelin knew this formality all too well— get the lesser family members out of the way first, and then announce the most important. So she dropped her eyes and fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. She kept her eyes averted as the guard listed off the names of lesser royals and their spouses. A pinch on her shoulder made her look up, she spun to berate Aedion for being an ass, when the guard started to speak once more. 

“Your majesty, I would like to present Rowan Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle and  Endymion Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle.” 

The two males stepped through the open doors and she met the eyes of the shorter male. He was handsome, of course; and she smiled politely at him, wishing this would go faster. He smiled back, lowering his head slightly before doing the same to Aedion. Aelin tore her eyes away and looked at the second male stood next to him. Her breath caught in her throat as she beheld what was in front of her. 

It took him a moment to look toward her, and when their eyes met she felt every hair on her body stand up. His pine green eyes met her own and it was like the world was falling around her. She swallowed and forced herself to breathe, her body heating. 

The male in front of her seemed to be doing the same thing. His breathing turned shallow and he couldn’t tear his eyes from hers. 

It was like everything around her was spinning or maybe she was falling, Orlon’s voice faded to the background, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart. 

As she stared into the eyes of her mate.

[kishillaa]

SSM21 Day 24: Fairytale

"I really don't think I should go, Ino." Sakura, sprawling on her bed, before her was her revision book she more often than not study at when she's not busy running around the hospital for her seemingly never ending shift.

Ino is sitting on the chair of her study, wearing a camisole and short pants. Her baby blue eyes are thick with pleading emotion, "You don't have to be there long. Just until you have to go for your shift. You know I need you there. And plus, you have to go out once in a while. Till when are you planning to only stay indoor during your free time, which is rarely I might add."

"This isn't a fairytale for me to be leisurely go around and enjoy parties, Ino. I would really like the comfort of our home. My room." She said, gesturing to her room.

Ino crossed her hands over her chest and look pointedly at her bestfriend, "This isn't about a fairytale or not. You've gotta get out of this confined place once in a while. What comfort are you looking for over your books?"

Sakura push her book away a little and turn around to look at her bestfriend slash housemate. She and Ino has been bestfriends since kindergarten, while she pursue her study in medical school, Ino went on to take a major on psychology, and when she finished her study, she decided that modelling is her thing.

She's tried to be at every of her show for support but lately, she noticed that Ino has something up her sleeve. After her show that Sakura attend, she will introduce a fine young man and ditch her with him.

Sakura sighs, it might be a huge coincident that there's always a guy to introduce. Tonight though, she really couldn't go. She has a midnight shift, which started at 11. Ino's show starts at 8 and end around midnight. She has to prepare to work at least an hour prior so she could be there on time.

Mentally do the math, she thought maybe she can go home early, 9 something or 10 maybe. So she heaves another defeated sigh as Ino squeals, running towards her wardrobe to retrieve a dress for Sakura to wear.

3 hours later, Sakura found herself seated on a fancy chair facing the stage for a fashion show. It was a party like fashion show, where the show will be held during a formal dinner party.

Ino was flawless and beautiful as always, walking on the stage, styling her modelling dress and poses for pictures.

"That was great, Ino!" She exclaimed as her bestfriend approached her, "I don't understand why you were so nervous. You were perfect earlier, like you always did."

Ino giggles as she spoke, "Thanks, Sakura. But Mikoto Uchiha is my idol. To modelling her own collection she designed herself is an honor, and I was afraid I messed it up. You know how I am when I got nervous."

Sakura put her hand on Ino's shoulder in reassuring manner, "You worried for nothing, then."

Ino beamed at her, "You're the best! Anyway, I met this guy before I came here. His name is Sai and he asked if I want a drink. Do you mind if I–" She pause to smile sheepishly at her pink haired bestfriend.

Sakura rolls her eyes. Well, at least she isn't trying to hook her up with someone, "Alright, I need to head home soon, anyway."

Ino scoffs and shakes her pointing finger in Sakura's face, "Live up a little, will you? It's still early, why don't you court a few beautiful men here before you go back to that dreaded real life of yours. I'll suggest you live this great and amazing fairytale just for a moment." Ino walks away with one hand raises up for a goodbye.

Sakura lets out a snort at her bestfriend. "Fairytale my ass." She murmurs and glances at her wrist watch which she didn't often wear because of her job and decide that she'll kill a little of her time here before make her way home.

As she put the elegant cup on the tip of her mouth, her eyes caught a sight of a man, looking rather ravishingly good, standing, leaning against the wall, away from other people. His eyes train upon his iPhone, and as if sensing her eyeing him from afar, he lifts up his head and their eyes met.

Sakura feels like her breath stuck in her throat as she stares at that man's eyes himself, so devilishly handsome. She almost satisfy as his eyes moves to roam over her body – thank Ino for styling her in this pretty long dress that hug her body perfectly – and grateful that he looks up at her with a look that only meant he's interested.

Without further ado, Sakura place the glass in her hold on the table, rise herself up her seat and slowly, walk over his direction.

As she reaches him, she stopped a few steps away. Sakura tilted her head to the side. "Want a company?" And to that, ladies and gentlemen, Sakura hope the ground swallow her whole. What a lame thing to say for a good looking guy.

She almost stunt when the devil himself look amused before he nodded, "Sure."

Sakura grins up at him and move to stand beside him, leaning together against the wall as she cross her hands over her chest, "This kind of thing aren't really my forte." She told.

"That makes the two of us." She heard him mutters.

She looks at him, "Why come here then?"

"Mikoto is my mother."

Sakura's eyes almost bulged from its socket, "Mikoto? Like Mikoto Uchiha, the one hosting this party and designed those dresses?"

The guy, the handsome handsome guy lift up one eyebrow, "Yes. In fact, I wonder why you didn't recognise me yet."

Sakura chuckles lightly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Uchiha. But I don't know anything about you, or your mother, or your family. I heard my bestfriend talked about it, but never really care to know more. I came because she was one of your mother's model."

From her peripheral view, she saw him nodded, "I'm Sasuke, by the way." He said, as if detest the way she addressed him as Mr. Uchiha.

Sakura turns her body to face him, and pull out her hand, "Sakura. Sakura Haruno."

Her smiles, wide, bright and beautiful display before him and Sasuke couldn't help but hold her delicate hand in his, firmly shake it once, "It's a pleasure meeting you, Sasuke–kun." She was hesitant, as she add the honorific.

"The pleasure is all mine, Sakura."

Her name that roll out of his mouth molded through his tongue makes Sakura's heart skip a beat. Never has she ever heard her name sounded so sinfully good.

They didn't spoke after that, watching over people dancing through the ball room with the slow dance song. "You know," Sasuke heard Sakura spoke, gaining his attention to look over her, "I don't usually do this, but let's dance."

She thought he's going to decline her right away, but didn't startle when his hand is offered before her. Smiling up at him, Sakura slid her hand over his. He grips it with such gentleness and he leads them to the dance floor.

As they dance follow the tune of the song, he spoke. "You're not bad."

Sakura lets out a shy giggle and murmurs her thanks before she responded, "I was a cheerleader back in high school."

"I see."

"How about you? Do you do any sport?"

"I was in football team."

"That makes sense. What do you do now?"

He has the amused smile on his face that makes Sakura tilted her head to the side, "What?"

"You really don't know me."

"Should I?"

There is a light rise and fall of his shoulder, "I guess you don't really have to. My father own a law firm. I worked under him?"

"A lawyer then?"

A nod, "How about you?"

"Guess." She said, cheekily grins at him.

He do a once over at Sakura before he said, "A model."

That makes her snort, "Thank you for finding me that appealing. But no, I am not."

"A hint?"

"That will be too easy."

"Alright, I'll guess randomly. A teacher?"

A head shake from Sakura.

"Another lawyer?"

She chuckles, "I was interested in that when I was in school, but I found it too intense."

"A no then. I really think you'd make a nice model."

"I'm not really interested in those. I'm a residence in Konoha Hospital."

A surprise raised eyebrow, "A doctor. Surgeon?"

"Right." Sakura turn the hand that's over his neck to look at her watch. She sighs when it shows its a little over 10.

"In fact, I need to go now. My shift starts in an hour."

"Really?" That was definitely a disappointment in his tone.

Sakura let our a giggle and poke her finger on his chest, "I have a day off two days from now. Around seven in the evening at The Yakiniku?"

Sasuke lift an eyebrow teasingly, "Is it a date?"

"It's definitely a date. I need to go now. See you in two days." She pat a hand on his chest, and walk away.

That man, that beautiful, handsome and angelic face man, is probably the closest fairytale she has ever indulged herself in.

[itsuki-minamy]

PROFILE: MISHAKUJI YUKARI

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Real name: Mishakuji Yukari

Terms of address: Mishakuji Yukari, Purple Ninja, Beauty☆Angel (Nickname for Jungle)

[PROFILE]

Birthday: August 25, Virgo

Blood type: AB

Age: 30 years. (At the beginning of the second season.)

[APPEARANCE]

Physique: 1.85 cm in height. Slim and flexible body.

Face, hair: A lustrous and neutral beauty. Long hair and loose waves.

Attire: Long coat and leather gloves. The sword is carried on his back.

Personal effects: The famous sword "Ayamachi". A sword combined with Kuro's "Kotowari".

[HABITS, SKILLS]

· He can recite all of Ichigen Miwa's cutting edge haiku that he heard during his discipleship.

· Two colors, colorless and green.

· Miwa Meishin style, all in one.

[IMPRESSION, OTHER NOTES]

· The image color is "deep purple".

· He loves beautiful things, and beauty is the criterion for making decisions.

[POSITION, OBJECTIVES]

After serving as the Seventh King's vassal, Colorless King Miwa, became a member of the Green King's clan. He still deeply adores Miwa's words, but he feels that the world of harmony he was aiming at was not what he really wanted, and he left. After that, he found the beauty of Nagare that contains the dream of change that he knew.

One of the most powerful J-Rank of the green clan “Jungle” and the commander of the “Jungle” task force. He agrees with Nagare's plan, but is not that interested in it. He works for the interest of the human beings named by "Nagare" and the joy of acting as his clan member.

To Kuro, who was a member of the Ichigen Miwa clan, he was a former brother, and he is like a wall that cannot be overcome in all things.

[PERSONALITY, CONDUCT]

A beautiful narcissist. He acts positive and evasive, but there is the dignity of the strongman who cannot be frivolous. He loves others as long as they are beautiful. The "beauty" in this case includes not only the appearance but also the behavior. He looks like a human free and has a rhythm of his own, and in fact, he has a calm point of view as he takes another step forward. However, since the person in question considers the lack of space wild, he does not reveal it. He spares no effort in training his swords and abilities as "self-improvement" every day, but for the same reason he doesn't show it to others.

[FATE, ENDING]

In the final battle, "Jungle" is destroyed and loses Nagare and Iwafune. Yukari takes a new path with Sukuna.

[ABILITIES, TACTICS]

Member of the clan with the power of two colors, Colorless and Green. His ability as a member of the Colorless clan is almost the same space operation ability as Kuro, and he can generate a force field on the extension line of limbs and swords, and can attack. However, his power and range of effects greatly exceed Kuro's.

The Green clan granted him the ability to modify himself, not other objects. By "decorating a strong self with more force", such as acceleration, hardening, and light emission, he demonstrates exceptional combat power.

[POWER]

B + (High ranking clan member.)

Except for the "King", he probably has the strongest fighting power.

[LIKES]

All the beautiful things. Attention from others. Training. Miwa's words.

[DISLIKE]

All ugly. Dirty clothes. Perspiration.

[HOBBIES]

Skin care. Anti-aging. Take care of the sword. Play with Sukuna.

[FASHION]

Wear clothes made from high-quality materials. Instead of dressing in splendor, he prefers elegant fashion that complements his beauty.

[BODY]

He has a lean and flexible muscular body and has very good athletic ability.

[INTELLIGENCE]

The brain itself is extremely clear, but since there is a momentary aspect of the game that comes from absolute confidence, he often does not think deeply about a case. Genius who is not interested in gathering knowledge and gives correct answers with the materials that exist.

Although he is an intelligent and wise person, he is not a serious academic person.

[BELIEFS]

Pursuing his own beauty is a priority. Everyone else is even cooperating with Nagare's plan. The Green clan remains a "diner" rather than a "servant" who promises loyalty.

With absolute self-confidence as the foundation of his mind, he truly believes that he can survive any crisis (even when he faced the King). Due to this solidly completed self-awareness, there is no hesitation in action and there is no time to waste in crisis situations.

[RELATIONSHIPS]

[EARLY YEARS]

Disciple when he appeared briefly under Miwa's tutelage. He was already a high-level sword user.

The above story is a complete mystery. Later revealed in “K SIDE: PURPLE”.

[TIMELINE]

· 1983, Mishakuji Yukari is born.

· 1999, he Appears before Miwa and becomes a member of the Colorless clan.

· 2004, he challenges Miwa to a duel and loses even though he adds a sword.

· 2011, he finds Nagare and becomes a member of the Green clan.

[ATTITUDE AND THOUGHTS TOWARDS OTHERS]

[TERMS OF THE ADDRESS FOR HIMSELF]

The first person is "Watashi".

The second person is "Anata". A light tone with a feminine voice.

[TOWARDS HISUI NAGARE]

He calls him "Nagare-chan" or "Anata".

He sometimes calls him "Nagare-kun" or "My lord", but they are not actually included under the so-called "king" and subject. He continues for the interests of Nagare. Rather, they are going to walk together.

At the moment, he treats him courteously as a member of the clan, but the actual attitude is pretty cheap. The stance is to look at the actions of bad friends in a fun way and lend a hand to the viewing fee.

[TOWARDS IWAFUNE TENKEI]

He calls him "Iwa-san" or "Anata".

A relationship between adults who interact with each other with roughly the same consciousness, and also struggle with a light mouth. There are times when people talk about things that are painful, and there are times when they don't touch what they want to hide.

Although he met him when he was Seigo Otori, he treats him as "Iwafune Tenkei" because he has abandoned the past.

[TOWARDS GOJOU SUKUNA]

He calls him "Sukuna", "Sukuna-chan", "Anata".

The posture of being a big brother taking care of his mischievous little brother. However, since he entered the battlefield out of his own wishes, he is fully responsible for all of his actions.

He does not protect or interfere, but it is not excessive to watch and occasionally lend a hand.

[TOWARDS KURO YATOGAMI]

He calls him "Kuro-chan" or "Anata".

As brothers under the tutelage of Miwa Ichigen, their attitude is easy and their actions are strict. While he teases a solid place, he does not dislike him, and implicitly leads him to a step of improvement. However, he does a lot of nonsense about his unconscious dependence on Miwa Ichigen.

[TOWARDS MIWA ICHIGEN]

He calls him "Master", "Ichigen-sama" or "Anata".

A dear master. Although the strength of that feeling is insurmountable, he wants to see the beauty of Miwa that can only be seen by exchanging lives, without hesitation he confronts Miwa and separates from him. Even now, the respect for Miwa remains the same.

[dornish-queen]

Pedro Pascal: “I already took all my drugs very early. In middle age, a hangover is not an option ”

When he was approaching 40, he resigned himself to having sporadic papers that would allow him to pay the rent. But playing Oberyn Martell in 'Game of Thrones' changed his life and opened the doors of 'Narcos'. Since then it has not stopped. Now he's the villain from the blockbuster 'Wonder Woman 1984'

JUAN SANGUINO

THE ANGELS OCT 2, 2020 - 3:19 PM EDT

The first big opportunity of his career was presented in 2011, when he participated in the pilot episode of Wonder Woman for NBC, but the network discarded the series and Pedro Pascal returned to his main occupation: casting castings to play the criminal of the week in the Law and order of duty. “That cancellation was a disappointment, of course, I wanted to work. I did not care if it was something good or bad, I just wanted to work, "he recalls today from his home in Los Angeles during a virtual conversation with ICON. Now Pascal plays the villain of Wonder Woman 1984 , one of the blockbusters destined to return audiences to movie theaters .

How can you not believe in fate? The boy who broke his arm twice playing Indiana Jones has ended up becoming the favorite hero of the kids (the bounty hunter in The Mandalorian ), his parents (Agent Peña in Narcos ) and, well, everyone's. world (Oberyn Martell, The Red Viper, in Game of Thrones ). When Pedro was little, the good guys were always white and the bad guys were Russian, Arab or Latino. The Wonder Woman 1984 villain , however, is a white billionaire played by a Chilean.

“The film is set in the United States of the eighties, which were marked by capitalist greed. It was a tainted concept of evil. Stripped of humanity, but still absolutely attractive and alluring. People who dreamed of being rich and successful had to be salivated. It is true that at that time villains in the cinema projected a xenophobic image. Now the white man can finally be the bad guy, ”explains Pascal.

 Some already compare his character, Maxwell Lord, to Donald Trump because of that muck in this mud: Reagan's glorification of rogue moguls in America turned guys like Trump into aspirational role models and glamorous stars. “Trump was not the core of inspiration for my character, on our costume designer's board were Gordon Gekko [Michael Douglas on Wall Street ], American Psycho's Patrick Bateman and other suckers in expensive eighties suits. All those millionaires who hid despair, unbridled ambition and terrified masculinity ”, he clarifies. If Pedro Pascal sounds like a socialist infiltrated in Hollywood it is because that is exactly what he is.

“When Reagan was elected, many people around me were frustrated that the worst forms of capitalism were winning. In my home, with refugee and socialist parents, conservatism was not demonized but it did go against what was important to my family, ”he says. Pascal's father, José Balmaceda, was an Allende supporter doctor who saved the life of a priest wounded by Pinochet's militia .

The priest was later tortured and ended up confessing the name of his savior. When the police went to look for Balmaceda at the hospital where he worked, he took his wife and the newborn Pedro and jumped over the wall of the Venezuelan embassy in Santiago de Chile to request political asylum. That's why Pedro ended up growing up in San Antonio (Texas), in a socialist home but in Reagan's land. A Chilean with no memories of Chile who was called Peter in high school.

At the age of 20, Pascal was in Madrid working as a go-go and keeps good memories. Here she is wearing a Prada sweater. Photo: Danielle DeGrasse-Alston / Realization: Warren Alfie Baker

The Chilean-born but US-raised actor wears a Paul Smith sweater and suit. Photo: Danielle DeGrasse-Alston / Realization: Warren Alfie Baker

Pascal has never left the immigrant mentality behind. Even his father, who came to open a practice in California, always lived in terror that at any moment everything could vanish. “It doesn't matter who you are, how much you are working or how much you get paid. Deep down you always think that each job is the last one ”, confesses the actor. Maybe that's why he didn't dare move from his Red Hook, Brooklyn, hovel to a house more suitable for a Hollywood star until filming for Kingsman 2 and Narcos was over . Nor is it that he had spent more than an entire week at his house since, in 2014, Game of Thrones made him the guy most people would want to party with.

Pascal knew right away that Oberyn Martell, the Westerosi rockstar who always seemed willing to fight or fornicate with the same bravado, was going to change his life. “I had done a lot of castings for friends' plays, for copier factory ads or for very serious independent films that no one was going to see, while I watched how many characters that I had been about to play changed the lives of others. actors. And thanks to my experience and maturity, I recognized the potential of Oberyn. I understood who he was and who he could be ”, he presumes.

The actor found out about the audition when one of his acting students told him that he had taken the test but had been discarded because of his youth. Pedro snapped up and must have thought, “What would Oberyn do?” So he recorded a video on his phone and sent it to his good friend, actress Sarah Paulson . She passed it on to her good friend actress Amanda Peet and this one to her husband, David Benioff, one of the creators of Game of Thrones . The rest is the history of television and headaches: when he informed the Narcos producer that he was available to play Pablo Escobar's pursuing policeman, he accused him of making a spoiler for Game of Thrones: If Pascal had a free agenda, it is because Oberyn was going to lose his fight against La Montaña . He couldn't imagine, of course, in what way.

  Part of that electric, lively and hedonistic energy of Oberyn comes to Pascal from the summer (that of 1996) that he spent in Madrid, where in addition to studying he worked as a go-go in a disco. That stay was transformative because the actor realized that he had had to adapt his identity all his life with each new move, but in Madrid he felt effortlessly at home. “I was 20 years old and I liked it so much that I almost moved. My main language is English, I have an American accent and I can pass for white. But in my house there were many cultural differences with respect to the outside world and I remember that when I was 20 years old, when I came to Madrid, I felt very comfortable in my own skin in a way that I had never felt anywhere else. I guess I was not aware that I had spent my childhood and adolescence learning new ways of adapting, connecting, learning, and pulling. On the contrary, living in Madrid was organic and easy for me. I made friends right away and I felt supported, ”he recalls.

By the time he was 40 Pascal was resigned to being an actor with enough odd jobs to pay the rent. According to him, his aquiline nose was a bad nose by Hollywood standards. Far from being offended or frustrated by this typecasting, he was looking forward to it, if it translated into a new check. “It is very strange to develop a fantasy as a child, to have the opportunity to turn it into a hobby, then some studies and finally transform all that into a career. That is the bet. But my dream of becoming Leonardo DiCapriodied. He died dozens and dozens of times. So to move on he had to accept that, at best, he was going to be an actor with a job. That was already a triumph, "he says. "Also, I accepted that I was not qualified for anything else, I had no more skills: I had put all my time, my energy and my concentration in being an actor and the rest in living life and having fun."

That absence of vanity lives on today, even when he's been involved in large-scale projects for five years without stopping. After Game of ThronesHe has made eight films, of which seven are action blockbusters. The wave of fame came to him when he was no longer expecting it but when he was well prepared to ride it. Still, every workday is a surprise and she acknowledges that what amazes her most about Hollywood is the sheer physical stamina that people have. “Sometimes a project can look like building a city, with all the hours, all the work and all the energy it requires. Some people have better stamina and can get by with little sleep. That is an interesting contradiction: all the people creatively involved in a film have a special sensitivity and at the same time have developed a very tough skin and energy to go through the physical experience of shooting it, ”he admires.

 Then Pascal switches to Spanish (the language he uses to confess intimacies) and explains, in a few words, that he is old for this shit. “I thought I had all the energy in the world and now, in my 40s, I see that ... wow! There are times when I don't know if I will be able to reach the goal, because my energy is not at the necessary level. But I always take it forward ”, he guarantees. Maybe that's why people get so high in Hollywood. Pascal responds between laughter and again in Spanish.

“I already took all my drugs very early. It is something that is already too much in the past, and in middle age a hangover is not an option. No, no, no ”, she assures. What if the other hangover, that of the wave of fame, runs over you? “I was a good waiter. Not at first, because they fired me many times, but I ended up getting the hang of it, ”he jokes. If the Hollywood thing doesn't go well, you can always put drinks again. But for now Pedro Pascal is the personification that the American dream , although sometimes it takes a little longer to materialize, really exists. Even Ronald Reagan would be proud.

source

[omegawolverine]

Plesse tell me about queerness in the get down!!

okay okay queerness in the get down let's fuckn goooo

disclaimer: I havent watched this show in full for like 5 months at least, probably gonna get something wrong and/or forget some more important bits. also this wasnt proof read I just word vomited

tws: period typical homophobia, abuse mention, f slur use, bury your gays trope, overdose mention, mention of a creepy possible age gap (the age gap hasnt been confirmed so that's why its possible), cops

going from least to most prominent queer characters, let's start with mylene cruz!

so, from the beginning of this show she has an established romantic relationship with ezekiel (although the status of their actual relationship changes frequently throughout the show) and though this was a relationship she was hesitant to pursue, it is clear that she does have romantic feelings for him and if not for them both having growing careers in very different music genres (zeke specifically working in a genre that she repeatedly labels as bad because she thinks they're ruining records + that it isnt real music because they're using someone elses piece and rapping over it, that's not really important here tho lol) they probably wouldve had a much healthier, smooth sailing romance. that being said theres a few things that happen in the show that, while not explicitly clear, or even really good coding at that—to the point where you wont catch if you really arent looking for it (and trust me, I always look for coding, hers was just so little that it flew over my head until I saw someone else mention it)—are still cool to think about!

so, for starters, I wanna mention the toy box performance, which was performed by mylene and regina, who are best friends. that's all cool and shit, and you dont really think much about it...until you hear about the fact that the show runners purposely colored a lot of the scenes in that performance with the bi colors. like. the writers after the show ended basically said "oh yeah there was plans to make her coding more explicit, but our shit got cancelled soooo" and then dropped the fact that she was gonna be bi (or at least implies bi) in the series, which puts a new twist on a few things.

now, besides the bi coloring in the background of the toy box performance (which was mostly on scenes with her and regina, which involved a lot of uh,, lowkey lewd dancing. with each other. in very revealing outfits. wooooo), there's her music! I dont tend to read too much into this one bc, like I said before, her coding is fucking light and the writers themselves said they didnt really get to do much with it, but I think some stuff with her music is interesting. specifically how her, yolanda and regina's song set me free blew up because dizzee, resident (lowkey enby coded) bicon, got their song played in a queer club. also that the song was majorly important to dizzee and started playing literally right as he kissed a boy for the first time and realized "oh shit I like boys that's bonkers". also that the song can be taken in a gay way since literally the entire thing is about becoming your true self, fully and unapologetically, which is what both dizzee and mylene's entire character arcs are about. dizzee (and a lot of other queer people, apparently), heard this song about being set free and it resonated with them so much that they got that shit most of its popularity.

speaking of dizzee and mylene, they parallel each other a lot in the way that their arcs are about them realizing who they are, coming into themselves and no longer just letting people treat them like shit in a sense (dizzee starting to tell people essentially that they can call him weird all they want, they can make fun of how he acts, what he likes, how he dresses, etc. but he likes how he is and quite literally saying "it's okay to be an alien" as he has consistently compared himself to one throughout the show vs mylene learning that if she wants to be a disco singer she needs to put her foot down, not let anyone, not even the love of her life, not even her abusive father, stop her from achieving her dreams, etc. and continuing to pursue her career with or without their support). one more little parallel that I think is interesting is during I think s2 towards the end of the show is when dizzee and thor are shown together having fun with each other, painting all over the building and each other and are basically just being happy and in love together and then they have these clips of them being interspersed with clips of mylene at a party where she is starting to realize that if she wants to get anywhere she needs to be her own main priority and that she needs to put her career and her dream, which is what makes her the happiest, above all else if she wants to succeed. idk I just think how the show made these two into a weird parallel, accidental or not, is neat. maybe not an explicitly queer parallel, but I think at least how her music and whatnot helped dizzee, the main queer character in this show, blossom, is important.

moving on we got shaolin fantastic also known as "oh no your internalized homophobia is showing-"

so, heres a quick list of...interesting shao facts:

Consistently referred to as fag/faggot (shaolin fanfaggot is my personal favorite); he gets really defensive about this despite nobody actually thinking he's queer, it's just people being assholes to be assholes, and he is the only character consistently referred to using a slur, especially a homophobic one, especially for a "straight" character. dizzee, a canonically queer character, is called a fag less than shaolin is even though dizzee actively goes to gay clubs, has a not so secret dude he "hangs out with" and wont let anyone properly meet, paints his nails, wears less than straight clothes even by the 70s standards and is just all around the definition of fucking queer (and I mean like in the weird way, not the gay way). in fact theres only like once I can remember him being called a fag and it had nothing to do with him actually being gay it was literally just like thrown out there the same way you would call someone a bitch.

Has only shown sexual interest in women, yet refuses to have deeper relationships with women in general (possibly because of trauma but who knows) but takes his relationships with his "brothers", specifically zeke, very seriously

Tells zeke and zeke ONLY his real name when zeke was planning to stop being his friend bc shao more or less got boo boo, a like 14 year old black kid, arrested for selling hard drugs; he was clearly scared and trying to do anything to keep zeke around, literally chasing him down the street and hounding him until he got zeke to stop and argue with him

Kept threatening to beat up zeke in the end but couldn't actually bring himself to do so, instead saying that zeke is "fucking lucky" before walking away

Let's zeke get away with things that nobody else can, in general just has a weird soft spot for ezekiel that he shows with nobody else

when shao found dizzee with thor in a vaguely compromising situation (like they were just shirtless covered in paint sleeping next to each other but shao had also seen everything they painted on the walls ((which some of it was sus)), it was clear they had painted on each others bodies and dizzee had been routinely disappearing with this guy for weeks now yet not producing nearly as much art, at least, as far as we audience members know) he didnt judge him but instead, waited for him to get cleaned up and then told him something along the lines of "theres a reason why im so secretive blah blah blah [not everyone needs to know everything about me]", which, in context, kinda implies that he might be a lil. a lil homiesexual. jus a lil.

whenever even the possibility of zeke leaving him comes up he absolutely loses it. he has literally cost ezekiel life changing opportunities because he thought zeke would just up and leave him for them. this could be abandonment issues bc he's a severely traumatized character, and that probably does contribute to it, but it also is just not a reaction he has to any of their other friends just randomly dipping in and out of his life soooooo

generally speaking, this mfer has got either bisexual with a big hard on for zeke coding or homosexual with terrible internalized homophobia and still a hard on for zeke coding. either fucking way, that nigga gay. he gay as hell. gay as fuck man. there wasn't really much to analyze here tbh bc the coding is just so fucking obvious if you look for it or you are/have been a gay person who's dealt with at least a little bit of internalized homophobia.

also, just a sidenote, idk how fucking old shao, but I'm praying hes like at max 19 bc I'm pretty sure zeke is a minor in this show and shao definetly is not so the whole him being heavily implied to have a crush on ezekiel thing is kinda. oof. not oof if zeke is like 17 but any younger than that? OOF.

edit: apparently the characters are only supposed to be a year apart in age but i had no clue about that before writing this post and since shaos age was never actually stated in the show i naturally assumed he was an adult since his actor Looks Like An Adult. this is definetly on me to a certain extent, but i also never saw anything about this when trying to find our their ages so 🤷‍♀️ maybe i just didnt look deep enough, sorry!

now moving on to the main event...marcus dizzee kipling :]

so, first things first, let's talk enby coding bc him being bisexual was already confirmed!

um, to start off, I just wanna say I dont think this enby coding was intentional or even really coding, it's just moreso me being a dizzee kin on main and knowing as a transmasc enby he has very transmasc enby vibes. for example:

cool, gender neutral nickname that everyone calls him

paints nails various different colors

the whole wardrobe is just a transmasc enby heaven...fishnet shirts, jean overalls, jackets and cuffed pants galore, the big colorful pins, etc

gender neutral hairstyle (when I had my fro it was very sexy and made it easy to transition between hyper masc and vaguely fem, which is pog)

comparing himself to/representing himself consistently with an alien character (though this is meant to represent his sexuality, it could also double as a gender thing too, not neccesarily bc of the whole nonbinary alien trope but bc an enby who likes aliens might heavily identify or compare themselves to whatever their idea of an alien is, whether that just be a genderless entity or a motherfucker with fly style and no need to be perceived as anything other Wacky As Hell)

moving on from there, let's talk about how his queerness is presented to us and how, while it may be a really good piece of representation, especially coming from netflix, it still lacks in A Lot of places.

so, let's start with good things!

i personally really like the get down's queer rep with dizzee bc it's (for the most part) nonsexualized and very very soft, about dizzee figuring himself out and realizing there is a place where he fits in, and about two teenagers in the 70s falling in love over their shared passion for street art. it also features an interracial couple where both boys challenge stereotypes both about queer men and men of color, which is epic poggers and very sexy. this piece of rep specifically is very important to me bc I am a queer black person and even tho interracial relationships are mostly normalized now, I've still had people give me shit for primarily dating white people in a town that is...primarily white lol

mm anyways, I can also appreciate how in the get down, dizzee being represented by rumi the alien is not a thing specifically related to gender (as it often is) and instead is about his sexuality and just in general weirdness and how it has led to him being alienated amongst his peers, poc or otherwise. him seeing himself as an alien is not about just his queerness, which is important, it is about him being a queer black man who talks different, acts different, dresses different and is "soft"—he isnt a walking black male stereotype and he wouldnt have been seen as masculine back in the 70s by any stretch of the imagination. this can be relatable to a wide spectrum of queer poc, from queer black men currently who still have to deal with this shit or to people like myself who are afab neurodivergent mixed race enbies that have always been signaled out as weird and alienated for it. dizzee is god rep bc while he has a small part in this show, his parts are very impactful, hard hitting and show queer poc of all ages that they arent alone and that it's okay to "weird", you just need to embrace it because somebody will love you for you, as thor did for dizzee.

that being said theres um. some minor problemas here,,,

namely:

dizzee and thors first kiss

the lack of development this pairing got

the way dizzee was confirmed bisexual off screen, he never said the words himself, just showed interest in both genders

the way dizzee and thor were never even confirmed boyfriends or just fwb so most of the fandom just calls them boyfriends bc Why Not

dizzee was implied fucking DEAD??? AT THE END OF THE SERIES?????? AND THOR WAS IMPLIED ARRESTED?????????????

now, these might have been things that wouldve been fine had the show been given it's full run but it wasnt which is why we are now left with probelms.

so, from the top, let's go over these: dizzee and thor's first (and only "on screen") kiss was one that was shown in a montage of other queer people making over and doing other vaguely romantic/sexual things, one of those things being a whole ass naked titty being mouthed at, but the actual kiss...was just not shown? like they really did just say "yes they kissed <3 you know this from the context clues of it being in a montage with kissing, hickey giving and titty sucking <3 but no we will not show it <3" LIKE HELLO? I SAW A NAKED BOOBIE BUT NOT TWO MEN KISS??? HUH????????

also, dizzee and thor were both fucking high as hell during this bit like this isnt a terrible thing but it's also like sometimes you do shit when you're high that you wouldnt do sober and they just never kissed again on screen so like?? like idk that's not that bad but it does kinda irk me since they deadass got no other on screen intimacy after that unless you including painting on eacher other or sleeping next to each other on a shitty mattress but not touching at all during it bc they were both at opposite ends of the mattress like half way off it

so yeah, that was trash. then we got lack of development, which kinda goes with the "dizzee being a bisexual but he never says it in canon" thing cause like...okay dizzee was already sort of a side character from the get go like he wasnt the mc by any means, but he became way more of a background character as things continued until we basically only saw him for performances or when he was with thor, yet they got no fucking development as a pairing other than "dizzee realize he gay, he like thor, he and thor spend time together and ig probably do some gay stuff but we dont really know bc we only ever see them do graffiti together now" like?? tf am I supposed to do with that shit. answer. quickly. and then theres dizzee not being confirmed bisexual, which is just a running problem with shows literally doing everything to say a character is bi except for having the character just...say they're bi? which would be so easy? like a good way dizzee and thor couldve had some development is by thor teaching dizzee things about the queer community that he didnt even know existed, thor couldve helped him understand what being bi meant and helped him label himself and whatnot but instead we got an off screen confirmation that the writers had bisexual in mind when writing him. which is garbagé.

the whole thor and dizzee never having a confirmed relationship status is also a development problem cause like literally nobody knows if they were just friends who made out, maybe fucked, who knows, or if they were dating bc dizzee does give a love confession but a love confession doesn't mean there is a relationship, especially since thor didn't say he was in love either (as far as I remember, I could be wrong, plus whether or not that really happened or was apart of dizzee literally overdosing during a performance is unclear so 🤪)

and now for the biggest issue...bury your gays trope.

during the season 2 finale, dizzee and thor are chased by cops after they are found doing graffiti, one of the cops is able to catch thor while the other chases dizzee into a train tunnel and there is a train seen headed straight for him before the show cuts to black on a train horn. the show writers claim that if they had gotten another season, dizzee wouldve been alive but since they didnt and since that's essentially super fan trivia knowledge, most people dont fucking know that and instead had to watch a black queer teenager chose death over being fucking arrested by a white cop. on top of that, thor didnt see any of that shit because he was caught and the cop started hauling him off while dizzee was still being chased so thor literally has no clue where his friend/possible boyfriend fucking is or that he's likely dead in a goddamn tunnel all alone, unless you count the fucking pig that chased him in there who wouldve died too. this shows rep was so fucking good as far as most shows go on not having major fucking problems, on not being toxic and over sexualized, etc, etc. and then they just. killed a black queer teenager for no fucking reason. like it was literally the last episode ever, it would add nothing to the plot, it would just devastate fans and devastate it fucking did. I dont cry easy but seeing a character I identified with, who I had hyperfixated on, die because he'd rather that than be arrested is terrible. it fucking sucked.

so yeah. that's my all too extensive thoughts/analysis on the get down's queerness. theres definitely stuff I missed, or misinterpreted, or looked too much into, etc, etc., but this was a fun thing to spend time writing sooo yeah!! thanks for the ask anon, sorry this was just a big rambley info dump, but hopefully you get some enjoyment out of it since it took like 3 hours at least 😭😭 feel free to ask clarifying questions lol

[arcticdementor]

The devout and observant Christian is undoubtedly aware of the precarious state of the faith in our modern world and is becoming increasingly open to out-of-the-box solutions. One such possible solution is to take a cue from our bearded Amish neighbors and form rule-based religious communities—but maybe without the horse and buggy.

A brief peak at the current state of American Christianity should disabuse anybody of the notion that this is unnecessarily drastic.

America’s traditional Mainline Protestant denominations are bleeding out so quickly they will likely be gone within 20 years. That is not my prediction, but their own. The ELCA (the main Lutheran branch) projects they’ll only have 16,000 worshippers by 2041; the PCUSA (the main Presbyterian branch) lost almost 40% of their members in the last decade, causing one analyst to note, “At its current rate of shrinkage the PC(USA) will not exist in about 20 years;” and data for the Episcopal Church shows the same 20-year timeline until the denomination runs out of people in the pews.

More conservative denominations used to chuckle at these headlines and say, “If only they preached the Gospel instead of liberal activism, they’d be growing like us.” But they don’t say that anymore. The Southern Baptist Convention, the largest of the Evangelical churches, has lost 14% of their members since 2006; the Methodists are losing members while in the middle of a brutal split; and for Catholics, according to Bishop Robert Barron while speaking at the 2019 bishops’ annual conference, “Half the kids that we baptized and confirmed in the last 30 years are now ex-Catholics or unaffiliated.”

There is one major exception, though: the Amish—a mustard seed that is growing into a large tree in front of our eyes. The Amish arrived in the United States shortly after their founder, Jakob Ammann, split with the Mennonites in 1693 for being too lax on enforcing their communal rules, as laid out in the Dordrecht Confession of Faith. For the next 200 years, the Amish were just a few eccentric families in Pennsylvania that spoke an archaic Swiss German. By 1920, these few families had grown to 5,000 people and since then have doubled about every 15 to 20 years, including between 2000 and 2020 when they doubled to 351,000.

Unless something changes drastically within their culture, this doubling is projected to continue. One demographer, Lyman Stone, showed that at their current rate of growth, they will easily make up a majority of the United States in 200 years. This means the current moment may mark the halfway point between them arriving as a small band of friends and their inheriting the most powerful nation on the planet. They may seem like a backwards remnant of the past, but in reality, they will almost certainly play a major role in the future. This will become more evident after they soon dwarf more well-known churches like the Episcopalians and Lutherans.

…

So, when virtually all other Christian groups are seeing plummeting, or at best stagnant, numbers, why are the Amish seeing growth like this? The answers people typically give are that they have a very high birth rate and an over 90% retention rate. But that’s like saying someone is wealthy because they made a lot of money and then saved most of it. It begs the question—how? How do they have such large families—with 6 or 7 children per woman—while the country at large has a below-replacement rate of 1.6 children? And how are they able to keep all those children within their communities?

I believe it all comes down to one thing—the Code—or as the Amish call it, the Ordnung.

The Amish Ordnung is different in each community, but if it strays too far, other communities will no longer associate with that community; so there are limits. While outside observers will just see strict rules about hats and beards and technology use, the Amish see the glue that holds them together as a people.

It’s very important to realize that each rule is chosen as a group and with the goal of strengthening individual virtue (especially humility), family and community ties, and their faith.

As an example, most Amish communities don’t allow phones in their homes, but it’s not because they think phones are inherently evil and ban them completely. They often have shared phone booths at the end of the street to use when necessary and at their places of work. They just don’t have phones in the home because they believe it will take away from the purposes of a home—things like family bonding, chores, and recreation. Nobody who has sat in a room of family and friends all silently swiping at their phones can tell me their concern isn’t warranted.

…

The success of this model was discussed by Eric Kaufmann, a political-demography scholar at the University of London, in his provocative 2010 book, Shall the Religious Inherit the Earth?: Demography and Politics in the Twenty-first Century. Kaufmann noted the growth of groups like the Amish and the Haredi Jews (often called the Ultra-Orthodox) and attributed it to their birth rates and strong communities. Haredi Jews, for example, who also live by strict community codes, were only a few percentage points of the Israeli schools in 1960 but are now about a third of students, and he predicts they will very soon eclipse secular Jews. Haredi growth in Brooklyn, New York, is seeing similar growth, with high birth rates and retention.

…

Laurence R. Iannaccone’s 1994 study “Why Strict Churches Are Strong,” which has been frequently cited and confirmed since, gives more detail on the success of certain community codes.

Iannaconne found that groups can be strict on items as long as they provide a “close substitute.” Think, for example, of banning social media but then providing a lot of new in-person social opportunities to make up for that sacrifice.

“Strictness works,” he says, but the rules can’t be so strict they make people miserable and drive them away, or as Iannaconne says, “Arbitrary strictness will fail just as surely as excessive strictness.” The rules do have to be strong enough, though, to keep “free-riders” from claiming the benefits of the community without participating. He called these rules “costly signals,” like the sacrifices the Amish make by limiting their clothing styles and technology use. A person would be very unlikely to go through all of those costly steps for community benefits they could get more easily elsewhere. By eliminating free-riders—whose “mere presence dilutes a group’s resources, reducing the average level of participation, enthusiasm, energy, and the like”—they see the reverse, very high levels of participation, enthusiasm, and energy.

It’s not just Amish and Haredi Jews that have seen success with following a community code beyond the laws of the state—think of the monastics who survived in far-flung places relying on The Rule of St. Benedict; knights that followed the Codes of Chivalry; bands of cowboys on the American frontier who stuck close to the Code of the West, which gave detailed guidance on passing strangers on the trail, when to tip your hat, and with which hand you should hold your whiskey; and the tribes along the Afghanistan-Pakistan border who have followed the Pashtunwali code since pre-Islamic times.

…

Modern Christians interested in starting a rule-based community would need to create some real benefits that are harder to come by in society at large. I’d suggest the basic benefits of a traditional community (help with childcare and schooling, coherent customs on dating and marriage, providing purpose and companionship to the elderly, cultural celebrations and gatherings, friendship, and assistance during hardship) would be plenty.

Then, they could agree together on some basic rules that are costly enough to separate the serious from the free-riders while not being arbitrary or unnecessarily strict. Targeting the rules toward areas that are particular downfalls for modern Americans (promiscuity, pornography, social media, screen-addiction, substance abuse) would be a good start. Agreeing to forego these in this time and culture would almost certainly be a costly enough signal.

Also, many of the rules should take into account issues like abuse of power, cults of personality, convenient personal revelations from God, sexual abuse, and a host of other issues inherent to tight-knit communities (and larger ones for that matter). The ability for a trusted leader to turn out to be an evil psychopath should never be underestimated, so rules should take that likelihood as a given and guard against it. The Amish, for example, draw straws to choose their leaders to avoid jockeying for power.

One last consideration is to what extent “walling yourself off from the modern world,” as Kaufmann said, is appropriate. Kaufmann said that was the best strategy for growth, but growth is not the only thing to weigh. There are also things like loving your neighbors, having an influence on the greater culture, and not stifling curiosity and creativity. Some walls are necessary, like between a teen boy and pornographic websites or between a child and an activist teacher, but a balance between walls and open spaces should be carefully pursued as a group. For example, language is used as a wall for the Amish (who speak Pennsylvania Dutch) and the Haredi Jews (who largely speak Yiddish), but that would likely be a step too far for most communities, as would their highly-detailed clothing restrictions.

…

Out-of-the-box? Sure. But with the exponential growth of the Amish and similar rule-based communities (and our own failure to find a workable model for modern Christian life) it may be a paradigm to consider. Even without our participation, it will certainly be how a fair amount of future Christians will live.