#you really sense the difference between people going 'I'm out of money' to be polite and people doing their very best to give you the moral

[kleefkruid]

Got a ton of compliments by broke people today. And I don't mean that in a disparaging sense I had at least ten people with all sincerity go "I love your stuff! I am broke. But I do love it. a lot. "

That's what you get for making illustrations that attract only queer and artsy people and general weirdo's but I'll take this any day over having to deal with rich housewives, love you all <3

[appocalipse]

Kiss prompt #9 with Eddie? Por favor?

anything for you. ♥

#9: "I think I deserve a kiss."

Eddie is charming your mother. You can tell even from this distance, sitting on the small step in front of your porch while you watch them.

He's been squatting with a some sort of screwdriver near that lawnmower for about 10 minutes, poking it, tightening screws, taking out parts of it you can't even name.

His hands are dirty with what you suppose it's oil, but he doesn't seem to care. He's so focused that he brings the back of his hand to his face and leaves a stain on his cheek without even realizing it.

You smile.

He looks up from time to time, to sneak a glance your way or when your mother talks to him, and then the two of them laugh amicably. After a few more moments, Eddie straightens up the lawnmower and turns it on, demonstrating that, as if by magic, it now works. Your mom thanks Eddie politely, then says something that makes him, you realize, look embarrassed as he stands up, wiping his hands on a grey cloth.

Embarrassed, Eddie? It's an unusual occurrence, to say the least.

It doesn't last long.

She says something else to him, insists. Eddie vehemently denies with small smile. You wonder if she's offering him money.

Eddie, very helpful, turns the mower off and puts it back in the garage.

Your mom touches your shoulder affectionately when she passes you on her way back inside the house, offering a smile that you're not sure you understand. Maybe it's best to not even try to understand.

Eddie comes right behind her, looking very pleased with himself.

The step is too small for two people, but he sits down next to you anyway, his knee lightly bumping yours. "I think I just won your mother over," he announces, and it's probably true; that lawnmower had been abandoned in your garage for the past few months, all but useless. He'll sure be in your mother's good graces for a long time.

"And why would you need to win her over?"

He bumps your shoulder with his. "Oh, you know, for when we decide to get married."

Eddie has no filter. You shouldn't even get flustered by this kind of comment at this point.

You laugh without looking at him, although you sound a little more nervous than you'd like. "So fixing a lawnmower is worth my hand in marriage?" you ask in mock seriousness.

"No, but it's a start. Don't you think I deserve, say…" he puts a strand of hair behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing your temple. "…a kiss? I think I deserve a kiss. Sounds fair enough, doesn't it?"

Now you have no choice but to look at him. This space really is too small for two people, and the proximity between is slowly melting away what little common sense you have left.

"You can ask her," you chuckle, pointing to the front door despite knowing that, of course, Eddie wasn't talking about your mother, "but I think my dad won't like the idea, you know."

Eddie grins when you look away. He can read you like a book.

"Don't be mean, sweetheart."

"You're the one being mean."

He leans closer, and you can feel his breath on your cheek, the tip of his nose almost touching the side of your face, hoping you turn to look at him too. "Me? I'm just trying to make things clear." He pauses, and you can practically hear him thinking. "Maybe I should try a different approach."

You tilt your head, curious. "Like what?"

"Like..." Eddie hesitates for a moment, gathering his courage, "…you could go out with me."

You blink.

"Don't look so surprised," he says quickly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I can do dates. Fancy dinner, movies, the whole shebang. Just give me a chance."

You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look into his eyes. It's true, at first glance, he's not exactly the most romantic person you know, with his tattoos, his love for heavy metal and his old van that always smells like cheap cologne, cigarettes and leather. But none of that matters, because you can't deny that there's something there between the two of you, something that you've been forcing yourself to ignore for far too long.

The oil stain is still right there, on his cheek. Without thinking too much, you reach up and rub it off slowly with the pad of your thumb. "I don't need fancy," you murmur, because it's true. You don't care about the glitz and the glamor, not when it comes to Eddie.

His breath hitches when you touch him, like he's not used to anyone being this gentle with him, like he's forgotten what it feels like.

You can feel the warmth of his skin through your fingers, the rough stubble of his beard prickling your palm. You wonder if he knows how soft you've become around him, how easily you let him affect you.

"Really?" he whispers, eyes wide and unblinking, as if he's afraid he's imagining this.

You nod, still rubbing his cheek even though the stain is already long gone. You can feel him relaxing into the touch, leaning into you just a little more. It's like he's been waiting for this, for someone to finally see past the tough exterior he shows the world and find the tender, vulnerable boy underneath.

Eddie grins, leaning closer, his voice lowering to a husky murmur. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

[join my 3k followers celebration! ♥]

[pathetic-gamer]

Fashion in Fódlan part iii: yet another very long and entirely unsolicited FE3H costume design analysis

This time, we're focusing specifically on the placement of quivers, because that's a very normal thing to get caught up in and I'm very normal.

[Part 1, focused on money and social aspects in all three countries; Part 2, focused on political aspects between church/empire; bonus part 2.5, regarding a crown]

This post came about because of this video from @blumineck (who posts lots of cool stuff btw, go check out his blog), which talks about quiver types and their purposes, pros and cons, etc.

Shall we?

So, while watching that video, I remembered for whatever reason that Cyril has a back quiver, but Ashe has a hip quiver.

The reason my brain went there was that I immediately thought "Oh, Cyril actually does more hunting and physical labor than Ashe, and as demonstrated in the video, a back quiver is more practical for him. That makes sense - great attention to detail, FE3H character designers!"

I figured that would likely carry over to other characters, specifically our other canonically talented hunters. Therefore, Leonie and Petra should also have back quivers, yes?

Wrong! Leonie has a hip quiver, and Petra has no quiver.

That's odd, so let's look into this a little deeper. Here are the other canon archers:

Shamir

Claude

Ignatz

Bernadetta

You will note that Ignatz and Claude don't have quivers in their outfits, but Claude does wear a hip quiver in an animated 2d cutscene. Ignatz we've already determined is a bit if an anarchist, so nothing interesting there - he will be benched from the discussion.

The really notable thing here, which I'm sure you've picked up on, is that everyone except Cyril uses hip quivers.

BUT WAIT!

Let's consider Claude again. Check out his final class, Barbarossa:

What's that I spy? A back quiver???

Surely you can make the connection easily: Our two token Almyrans are the *only* people with back quivers.

So, why is that?

Let's return to the others, briefly. What do Ashe, Leonie, and Bernadetta all have in common? Their skills set them up for becoming bow knights. Shamir just wants to remain a sniper, but can go that direction as well.

Mounted archery almost always uses hip quivers, according to my research (*cough cough duck duck go image search "mounted archery"*), so it makes sense that all of our innate archers have those hip quivers.

What makes Claude and Cyril different? Well, thanks to Almyran typecasting, they are both placed on wyverns, not horses! That means significantly more mobility than the bow knights (bow knights aren't doing loop-de-loops), so they need their quivers to be more secure! Boom, mystery solved!

...or is it?

Of course not. It always goes deeper.

Tell me, history buffs: Throughout world history, who are among the most famous horse archers? What group of people most immediately comes to mind? Among whom, exactly, were armies of mounted archers a defining feature?

If you said Mongolians, you were right.

And how, pray tell, do Mongolian horseback archers wear their quivers?

ON THEIR BACKS. CHECKMATE.

(I tried to find name of this archer to credit her but couldn't track it down. She was the winner of a competition that took place during a festival in Inner Mongolia, China at some point in the last like 15 years, so incredibly skilled. Wish I could point y'all in her direction for more cool stuff!)

[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing 8— “Anyone can write a book”

Yes. But actually no. I say “writing is easy” in that it doesn’t take a degree and textbook learning to understand. You can get an English or lit degree if you want, but writing is incredibly subjective. It’s not even like an art degree that has you study different mediums and historical styles. “Writing is easy” in that it’s about feeling, and instinct, and a little bit of common sense. Anyone can do it in that it doesn’t take financial investment to start. Steal a tchotchke pen and paper from a hotel room—you’ve got all the tools you need. I have a communications degree and 9 years of experience, and I'm about to publish my first supernatural fantasy novel.

Writing is not easy, however, if any of the following applies to you:

You want to make enough money to do this full time

You want to appeal to mass audiences

You want to be a NYT bestseller**** or get an adaptation

You want to be regarded as the best of your generation and fill bookstore shelves

1. It takes a healthy dose of self-awareness and a reality check

 I beta’d for an author who thought that he was comparable to GRRM, the author of A Song of Ice and Fire, because both have adult themes in their book and if GRRM can do it, why can’t he? The sheer vastness of the divide between ASOIAF and this awful, awful manuscript wasn’t worth putting into words for the amount I was being paid, though I tried.

Yes, you can write whatever you want. Yes, you can write to please yourself and stroke your ego. You can write the hammiest wish-fulfillment author insert that you desire. But you can’t expect anyone else to want to read or pay money for it. It’s great to have confidence as an author and envision your success, but starting right off the bat with “everyone will love this book because I’m really smart and I love this book” is only going to leave you bitter and penniless.

2. You might be an expert in your given field, doesn’t automatically make you an expert at storycrafting

I really, truly want the above godawful toe wart of a human (who tried to justify pedophilia in his book with the Israel-Palestine conflict) to stop featuring in my writing advice, but I know he’s not the only person out there who thinks like this. You might have a doctorate in engineering, medicine, political science, chemistry, physics, history, paleontology—any field you want. That does not mean you can successfully translate your expertise into a well-crafted and compelling narrative. It means you can write a college textbook lecturing your readers for 300 pages. Heck, if you can't explain what you do like I'm 5 years old, then you're not an expert in your field.

Elements of good storytelling include well-rounded characters, solid pacing, compelling themes and motifs, an engaging main conflict and character arcs and edge-of-your-seat action, romance, debates, and arguments. It’s so much more than “I’m going to write a textbook, but have my character tell it to you, and everyone will love it”.

They won’t.

3. “I’m gonna be a millionaire like JKR”

The frustrating thing about making money writing is that at the end of the day, you are still selling a product. Which means that it doesn’t matter how amazing you think it is, if it’s not what sells. The Fifty Shades series is hardly a poetic epic with deep, meaningful characters and themes, but it sold. It got adaptations. Why? Because it was a product people wanted and its writing style appeals to mass audiences who aren’t entertained by fluffy, antiquated prose. I hated the Divergent books. They soullessly and shamelessly fed off the success of Hunger Games. But they sold because “teen dystopia HP houses” was what audiences craved and what Hollywood was pushing to make movies out of.

Personally I don’t have any nostalgia for Harry Potter and I both wish I did so I could have one more beloved series and fandom to participate in, but also am glad I don’t because of JKR. HP is chock full of plot holes and “fuck it we’ll do it live” worldbuilding and so many concepts that look cool on paper until you really start thinking about it.

JKR didn’t make a million dollars because she wrote the greatest fantasy series. JKR made a million dollars because she wrote a book that sells every goddamn piece of lore for $15.99 or more and collects on all those sweet, sweet royalties. She understood that she’s selling a product, not just a story, selling everything from Slytherin ties and wizarding robes to golden snitches, sorting hats, wands, chocolate frogs, and every other prop seen in the movies.

You sure can chase trends and I’m sure Divergent is somebody’s favorite book and you can hock chocolate frogs. Everyone’s writing goals are different.

4. “But GRRM did it” (or, adhering to genre expectations)

Circling back to this one. Once again, you can write whatever you want, no one is stopping you. However, books are products and if what’s in the summary and on the cover isn’t what’s on the pages, you’re going to upset and annoy your readers. For example, if I slap a chiseled six-pack of man meat on my book cover with flowy calligraphy for the title that reads something like Sex and Pink Champagne and my summary is all about how protagonist girl gets the adonis of her dreams, you’re not going to be happy if, 200 pages in, the plot detours and Mr. Sexy fucks off to sell NFTs.

It doesn’t meet genre expectations.

GoT kicks off with incest and child defenestration. It tells you *exactly* what you’re getting into immediately. You can subvert plot expectations all you want. You can subvert tropes and archetypes and throw in all kinds of twists and turns. But if you’re writing a YA novel and 100 pages in after campfire songs and the power of friendship, Protagonist gets assaulted in a 7-11 parking lot because you wanted to be ~edgy~ you’re going to piss off your readers.

Take Mulan for example. It has a dramatic tonal shift so powerful, the musical stops being a musical because it’s traumatized. Mulan doesn’t drop in the grizzled and horrifying wasteland of a battlefield with thousands of dead soldiers in an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. It’s already a war movie, the possibility is already there.

If you want to write adult content, then write a book for audiences who are prepared for and want to read adult content. Otherwise you’re setting yourself up for failure.

5. “Okay but it’s not entertaining”

Your first job as an author is to entertain (your second is to do it responsibly imo). There’s millions of books out there—why should someone read yours? Whether that’s entertainment through a feel-good romance or a gut-wrenching tragedy, you need to keep convincing your readers to stay invested in the story, otherwise they can and will put it down to read something else. No one is obligated to read your book to the end.

So, yeah your protagonist might have all the elements of your own personal tragedies and it sure is meaningful to you, but the way you wrote it is incredibly boring and no one will care. It might be the most brilliant heist plot ever conceived, but you focused on all the wrong elements, the pacing is whack, and your protagonist is annoying, so no one will read it.

Very few individual elements can be good enough to carry the entire manuscript and the likelihood of an author being really good at one thing and awful at the rest is slim. Readers can quit a book over the most arbitrary reasons. Do you want to die on a hill of “I’m not changing my annoying protagonist, I’m right and they will see”? They won’t. The arguments authors get into with me over how I hated their protagonist or I told them which parts were boring and dragged because I “didn’t understand the story” are pointless. If it’s boring or confusing or annoying, no one will read it.

6. First Drafts are drafts for a reason

Actually writing is less than half the time and effort spent on getting a book to publication. Probably less than a quarter. The rest of that time is spent editing and rewriting. Some first drafts will be better than others, not arguing that, but your first run through your story has a non-zero chance of needing revisions, even for something as small as typos and punctuation.

You have to edit for pacing and tonal shifts, erroneous details and entire scenes, character inconsistencies and goals. You have to make sure your conversations flow believably, that you hit every talking point that scene requires. You have to make sure your character’s motivations don’t create plot holes and that they’re always on track like a real person and not a creation of your imagination. You have to make sure your action scenes and sex scenes are legible and as thrilling for a reader as they are for you. You have to make sure your worldbuilding is consistent and logical and easy to understand.

Some people outline heavily before starting page one. Some people have a sticky note of “beginning middle end” and run off that. Some have whole folders of different documents to keep track of all their elements. Everyone’s writing process is different, but it is a process, not a one-and-done. It requires revisions, seeking feedback, implementing that feedback, and more revisions until it’s as good as it can be.

Yes, you need to edit. No, you’re not the writing god who penned perfection on your first try. Maybe a piece of your story is perfect on the first draft, but not the whole thing from start to finish. It’s okay that your story isn’t what you thought it would be when you started, and it’s no failing of you as a writer to need edits or even massive changes. It happens to everyone.

7. “Writing is easy, thus it’s not a real job”

Really the notion that creatives are lesser than corporate business people solving problems that their business created. But specifically for writing, the idea that it’s just putting words on a page, thus it’s easy and anyone can do it, so it’s not impressive or deserving of praise and you really need a real job (you probably will because writing doesn’t make much money for most people, but that’s just how it shakes out).

I know ENNS won’t appeal to everyone. I know there will be people who hate my characters, who don’t understand them or don’t agree with their philosophies or find my writing trite and too lean and not ~immersive~. I know there’ll be homophobes out there who won’t even read it but hear about it and make assumptions and will leave me crap reviews. I know it’s not the greatest supernatural fantasy novel ever written.

I’m not in it to make money or get a movie deal and see my merch all over the shelves and get my own theme park. I write so that even one reader might see themselves in my characters and know they’re not alone. So that even one reader has one of my characters as their favorite and that character motivates them to do the Thing or keep moving forward or be brave enough to finally do whatever they’ve been too afraid to attempt before. I want to help people, even if at the end of the day, my writing only helps myself.

Yes I need supplemental income (who doesn’t these days). It’s the way of the world. But I’m doing what I love in my free time and it is a real job because it takes work, and it might not have monetary value but its value to me is priceless.

[variousqueerthings]

Well, you don't steer the Tardis, you negotiate with it. The still point between where you want to go and where you need to be, that's where she takes you.

We've headed to Bill's second proper episode. The Doctor is in a somewhat non-dissimilar position to back in s3, but not spiralling into a series of suicidal urges (well...) -- in the sense that we're at "taking on a new companion is Not allowed because I'm sad (and in this case because the Master is being held in the cellar), but... well, wouldn't it be nice?" the difference between Bill and Martha is manifold, it's just interesting to imagine character change in the Doctor, who's consciously got not just Martha, but all of his companions in mind when he's interacting with Bill... and, possibly, Susan a bit, considering that picture in episode 1. Bill, to me, feels correct in being the final companion of this era, she ties a lot of emotional themes together going all the way back to Rose, and her greatest trait to me is all the questions she asks/the kinds of questions she asks

right now Bill is following the Doctor with the knowledge that out there in space, her almost-not-girlfriend-turned-puddle-creature is also hanging around...

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 10/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 7/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 7/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 5/10

companion matters (the companion doesn’t always have to be there, but if the companion is there, can they function without the doctor– and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story): 9/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 8/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 5/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 10/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 6/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 5/10

FULL RATING: 72/100 (if I can count….)

this season, I tellya. I like this episode despite its flaws (flaws which come from some deeeply ingrained scifi tropes that are due a good Poking at)

OBJECTIFICATION: Woooo, we've done it! none of this Nonsense. also Bill's top is cute, and feels to me like something that didn't come out of a fashion catalogue -- I just mean by this that she's someone without a bunch of money, she'd probably have some Fits that she's really into and this gay top gives off that vibe

PLOT-POINT: Bill really engages with how she feels about travelling and the kind of adventures she's in (ofc we see even more of that in the next episode). in this one she's noticing that the Doctor runs into danger and tries to get her out of the way, and simply follows after, because she thinks there's something kind of destructive and lonely about that behaviour -- and this is what leads her to figuring out key parts of the plot as well

there's also this neat moment where there's a statue of perhaps Nefertiti and Bill stops and compares herself for a moment, and it feels very "I'm Black and I'm in space and I have both history and future" which is part of what her story is about -- before the Doctor she was very much floating from one day to the next, with all these questions she didn't have the privilege to be able to ask and have respected and answered. the Doctor really functions so often as a professor in their stories, being really indulgent with these questions, but still challenging her to figure things out for herself and letting her challenge him when she notices the flaws in his logic (or in the next episode, gaps in his truth)

COMPLEXITY: it's relatively easy to follow the twists and turns of this one, and they're quite good twisty-turns. the one thing I question is its ending, and a bit of its buy-in, but that's about Politics

I liked the feeling of this one though. I liked what it wanted to say, at heart, and I liked a fair bit of how it said it

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: Bill's first own adventure. She's noticing that the Doctor has a tendency to run into danger. she's having some feelings about what the future of humanity might look like. it's not so heavy on Stuff outside of this, but that's fine, the point is really "how does Bill react to time-and-space"

COMPANIONS MATTER: yeah yeah yeahhhh! she really does! and it feels like a conscious choice to go from River Song's "we do as we're told" type line, to now where Bill really challenges the Doctor's limitations. and because she does, vital bits of the story are revealed, to us and to the Doctor

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: I feel like I should have taken more notes on the Doctor's behaviour in this episode, because it's very much the oppossite of this/the Doctor is fallible, but I wasn't conscious enough about whether it's saying something about where the Doctor's head is at that he didn't consider that the colonists might already be there, and could have risked blowing them -- and the Vardy -- up. regardless, I think the Doctor is very happy to be travelling again and specifically to be travelling with Bill

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: this episode is very self-contained, its narrative of colonising a planet because earth is [insert some kind of catastrophe that's not quite spelt out for us] doesn't relate to any other, similar episodes of the same, and I think it could have done. it's quite a popular theme (as we will get into)

“SEXINESS”: Bill is here to tell us we're post the need for stupid faux-sexy talk

INTERNAL WORLD: I think for where it is -- that is a "post"-colonised world, and I will absolutely be talking about that in the point below -- it's very well developed. the way also it threw the Doctor for a loop that the colonists were already there!

I am fascinated by how "post"-colonised is depicted via wheat fields. mono-culture harvesting is no good! (I may be overanalysing but that's the thing about "colony" -- it needs to be complicated as concept in modern scifi, it's well overdue for it)

I also noted in "previous doctor who" that it doesn't connect to any other narratives about Something Is Up On Earth so we must leave narratives it's done, so it's sort of ambiguous handwaved Reasons that bring them to this plot. perhaps if that was more grounded, their desperation would feel more real

but it works, the way the mystery comes together. the Vardy in the wall, the old spaceship full of memorabilia from earth, the shrine to the first dead, and the pods of sleeping people. I really like all that

POLITICS: oooooohohoo it's one of my favourite kind of stories, "everyone is people!" the way to win at the end is not destroying the robots, it's to acknowledge their rights to the planet on which they live. I also like that the majority of the colonists (we'll get to that word in a sec) are South Asian, until we get to gun-man-dude, who's not meant to be in the right. there's just a lot more casual and deliberately thought out diversity from the looks of things, making the future of humanity feel far broader

that being said, there are sooome elements to the whole thing that of course I cannot help but pay attention to- first of all, of course, the idea of colonists to begin with is always something complex that conveniently tends to pretend that wherever a colonist lands is empty before they arrive. that is the case in this episode as well, where the plot asks the audience to simply run with the fact that this planet was colonised, and we arrive to the story when "colonised" is its state, that's how we the audience first see this world. what it was before colonisation is not a part of this story

I really would be fascinated in Doctor Who moving forwards grappling with that idea of the implications of "colonist" because it's been the word habitually used in scifi for so long, without thinking about it, and although there are episodes that deal with immigration, with oppression of one species over another (notably, with humans over others), and with stripping resources without "considering" or perhaps caring for the consequences (and then there are consequences), the very concept of colonist isn't so challenged yet

actually if anyone can point me towards a science fiction story consciously writing on colonialism, which I'm sure there are, I'd be very interested

anyway, for this episode, one of the prime science fiction conceits that I would like to see challenged one day, is the "empty" planet just waiting for humans to populate it. maybe this episode has already been done, but not in nu!who, so again, if anyone knows an audio adventure, a classic story, a book, a comic, I'd be very interested

I also just watched Interstellar for the first time yesterday, so now I'm thinking about the popular narrative of "something's up with earth and it's so fucked, we have to go to somewhere else" which is... well, it's very colonialist, it's very Elon Musk and billionaires in space leaving the poor suckers to die, it's very defeatist, and dare I say it without going a biiiit into sentimentalism... it's very ungrateful to the earth, as narrative. it's time we complicated that "easy" shorthand for why colonialism must be done, the same as we need to complicate the "easy" setting of the conveniently empty planet

SO this story is not about the idea of colonialisation, but the Vardy (who have been helping to prepare the planet) are self-aware, and, according to the Doctor, were here first. I think the throwaway joke at the end lets down the story a biiiit, when the Doctor asks about discussing rental agreements for the humans being allowed there, and the Vardy then show a money sign and a ding effect

don't insert last-minute capitalism on a seemingly abundant world where everyone needs to learn to get along! I think this is partly a consequence of the episode needing to end and not having enough time, but I think drops the ball on that

however! tiny swarms called The Vardy who communicate with humans via robot interfaces are people! that society could become so in a particular Cyborg kind of way as long as it's not capitalist, but that's another discussion

FULL RATING: 72/100 (if I can count….)

this is a solid episode -- it's not perfect, and it kind of falls for "easy tropes" rather than real originality or challenge to concepts, but where it really really works is Bill, in my opinion

this makes a big difference to previous companions, where that's often been the point I've rated middly-to-low, because episodes have struggled to give companions something to do and/or a reason to care about what's happening around them

Oh Bill, you're so great

[drippingheart]

A boy had once been plagued by the banality of nervousness, excitement, and hopefulness, but the boy, and the emotions with him, had died. A death as swift as a blinking eye. The men who replaced the boy was not void of emotion; surprisingly, he did feel at peace. It was no wonder truly for calm followed a demoniac storm and also preceded the following storm to come. It was no wonder Getō Suguru felt as though his chest was capable of expanding to its full dimension with deep breaths as the air itself seemed to hold a sweeter aroma.

Between Tokyo and Kyoto, there was not much of a genuine difference. Certainly, there were varying slang terms, accents, scenic areas, varying restaurants and shops, but all in all both cities were tremendous in their culture and the humans who polluted the streets. Truly, any and every place on Earth mirrored each other for the human influence was strong and terribly predictable. Suguru was able to breathe and feel the tension dissolve from aching muscles because he was free . . in some small sense.

The boy who hid away in either his dorm room or in the toilets, feeling judged by the peers and mentors who knew him all too well yet knew nothing about him, was dead. His heart was still burdened heavily and scars still marred his body, yet he was older and harbored enough goals which kept his feet moving one after the other. Suguru needed something. He had needed a clean break. Though, in reality, being tied to the politics of Jujutsu society under the scrutiny of one of the oldest and most grave sorcerers was a funny take on a break.

At the very least, there was no fake kindness nor empathy bestowed upon him by Gakuganji Yoshinobu, and with his own heart growing stiff with malice, he had no qualms being in callous presence. Suguru was hired to do a job, and he would do just that . . and more, certainly. It was Suguru's sixth time in Kyoto, and it was a strange thing to consider the city his third home. How many more would be considered a home? A cycle of rinse and repeat when his heart grew too weary and his ambitions too tremendous.

With his bitterness growing and without any friends, the business of acting like a tourist did not hold its appeal as it had during his youth. Back four or even seven years ago, he would have demonstrated no apprehension walking the streets with only ¥100 in his pocket. He likely would have returned home from whatever wild adventure with the same amount of money if not more, having paid and earned a weekend's worth of adventure with his charisma and savviness. Times changed. People had that ugly way of worming their way into someone's heart and mind to tear it apart for the worse.

Suguru still explored, go to know all the local hot spots, although took on the pretense of an introvert. Oh, how he would have delighted to make friends with people he would only ever keep up with on IG, hooked up with others, yet being surrounded by the sheer number of humans was sickening, really. With enough bags and the contents to break the arms of a man who did not work out as thoroughly as the sorcerer did, he returned to Kyoto's Jujutsu Tech campus and carved out a place of his own in the private living quarters provided to him.

He had kept very few things from his childhood and his time in Tokyo's campus as a student. In truth, he should have thrown it all out; likely there were still boxes sealed away in Tokyo. It was about new beginnings, and what little in savings Suguru had accumulated which was not much at all, he blew it on new furnishings and decorations. Ieiri Shoko would have laughed at that. The chain-smoker had been pestering him through SMS and IG for the past week, and he did not have the energy to respond with anything more than the basic. She was trying to guilt trip him and for good reason.

Suguru had accepted Principal Gakuganji's offer and only spared a few words to pack and say good-bye. As swift as a guillotine and painless, at least on Suguru's part. Other people had a lot to say on the matter. Other people did not matter. Thoughts of the past, people of the past, were stuffed down like his appetite — He was getting better at it, I will eat something. It was not nervousness he felt, no, but there was a funny little apprehension tickling his stomach as he thought about what this path would bring. Despite whatever it was he was feeling, the onyx-haired sorcerer did manage a full night of rest as a result of a busy day.

The following morning, Suguru showered, dressed in his specially tailored jujutsu instructor garb ( onyx hakama, haori, tabi, geta ), and actually are a full breakfast before he crossed paths with Iori Utahime @incantat1ons. It was not in his intention in the slightest to replicate the woman's attire, and enough years had passed since the two last crossed paths that such a similarity would never cross his mind, thus the moment was charged with amusement. Upon noticing his superior, Suguru's sugilite eyes widened for a fraction of a second before a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest; he did and was genuinely humored.

── ❛ Iori-san. It's certainly been a while, mm? I'm pleased to be working along side of you. ❜

While his long hair was worn loose and down, his trademark bangs were still kept at their same length and hand reached forth to tuck the onyx strands behind his ear. The action was all for nothing for seconds later, he dropped his arms to his sides and bowed at the waist to demonstrate his humility and thankfulness; the bangs came undone. Considering it was not a first introduction nor precisely a formal one, the bow was kept short, and the sorcerer returned to his full height.

── ❛ I trust all has been well with you. ❜

[edwinspaynes]

Hello there! I know your opinion of charles alastair, between the many reasons their relationship was toxic one is the age gap (a thing many on reddit see normal, personally a 25 year old mingling in that sense with a 17 year old doesn't sit right with me). I wanted to ask you what do you think of other age gaps in tsc and if you think those ships are problematic in that sense, for example Dru and Jaime, Livia and Cameron and Gabriel and Cecily. Where one is an adult (or soon to be one) and the other not yet.

As you acknowledged, there are a lot of things contributing to Charles/Alastair's toxicity. The age gap is just part of the bigger picture. One of the biggest issues is the age at which they met. Charles would have been around 20 while Alastair was around 14. That's disgusting, and even if they weren't immediately having sex, it was grooming. Charles also is in a very heightened position of power in society as the Consul's son; he's rich, he has political power, he has a family who loves him. Alastair's a mixed-race kid from an abusive home that doesn't really have a lot of money. They have 0 political power and people actively look down on Elias for being embarrassing.

The other couples that you mention are very different from this, I think. I will talk first about Gabriel and Cecily, who I do like together and do ship. I will say that I do dislike their age gap, and it was not necessary in any way. I don't see why Cassie did it. But I don't think Gabriel is a creep. He didn't groom Cecily and really isn't that much older than her; they're equals. It's annoying, but it doesn't bother me all that much.

Now that that's out of the way, the others you mentioned. If I'm wrong about the following, correct me. It's been a hot minute since I read TDA.

Dru and Jaime don't bother me for the simple reason that they're not in any kind of relationship yet. If they do become a ship in TWP, I would be opposed to it because Jaime is a lot older than Dru and met her as a kid. Also, there would be a power gap here and that dynamic would be awful. I would be very opposed to this. But I don't really think that it's going to happen. I'm pretty sure it's going to be Dru and Ash, which I support.

I feel like I can't give much of an informed opinion on Livvy/Cameron because I've blocked Thule from my brain, but I consider anything that happens in Thule ridiculous and therefore won't be bothered by it. I also don't think that they have that big an age gap, if I remember right (?) Livvy's 15 and Cameron's 17 (?) So honestly nbd.

I also don't think I can post this in good conscience until I admit bias. I'm much more bothered by Charles in part because I adore Alastair, he's my fave fictional character besides Matthew (and even that's a close race), and he's my precious blorbo that lives rent-free in my brain 24/7. I like Cecily and Gabriel well enough, but don't love them, and I give 0 fucks about any of the TDA characters. So there's a bit of a personal sting with Charles/Alastair that doesn't happen with any of the others.

[riffin-eh]

so uhhhh, interaction, huh

I… don’t really get a lot of what people say about social anxiety with typical, day-to-day interactions that you have to do. But more complex interactions? Just shoot me now, I’m gonna screw up. Obviously it’s different for everyone, but I guess I judge everything on intent. Going into a conversation, both parties have an intent, whether conscious or subconscious. If those intents are aligned, and both parties know that, then the conversation is easy. For example, I go up to the counter of the local McD’s and ask for some nuggies. The worker wants to get my money and give me nuggies, and I want to give the money and get nuggies. We both know each other’s intent, so the interaction is all about facilitating that. No bullshit, easy stuff. That’s why I find so much of this day-to-day stuff in the wider world so easy, especially retail interactions. But more complex conversations, where I don’t know the other person’s motivations? Now we’ve got a problem.

Let’s start off with a controlled scenario, one with less variables, so I can illustrate how even that is tough. I’m gonna draw upon an interaction I had. I was playing Splatoon with who I thought (think? I’m not sure anymore, things are kind of in the shitter right now for me socially) is/was a friend of mine. Now, my goal here is simple and easy to understand. Keep a good conversation with involvement from both parties going, and get to know this person better because they seem pretty nice. But their goal? It could be a lot of different things, and I’m not a good judge, because weewooweewoo social anxiety here to screw you over. The first assumption one might make is that they have the same goal as me. I would definitely like to think that, because that means we’re working towards the same goal, and so things are easier. But uh oh, here’s anxiety coming in with a piledriver! What if they’re just being polite? What if they’re only putting up with me because of another friend? I know these things aren’t reasonable, but you sprinkle in a little context of it being hard to contact them to set things up and them not initiating conversation, and it suddenly feels a lot more real. And so, I get overwhelmed after the fact. I over analyse. Annnnnd I don’t contact this person who I honestly had a good time with again. And that’s just a simple 1 on 1 interaction. Now add in multiple other people, who I might know more or less, dynamics between all of those people, and it just becomes a nightmare to manage. All different senses of humour, things that are ok and not ok, interests, etc etc etc make it tough to manage at the best of times, and I'm rarely at my best of times socially.

For a lot of people, conversation is a given. They read between the lines, read the mood of the room, and chime in an acceptable amount to keep them in the conversation without too much thought, at least that’s what it seems like. But when conversation is a skill? Things get hairy real quick. I think I just need more experience, covid and being at home a lot has kinda screwed me on that. Hopefully I can figure it out. I’m better than I was, so if my conversation skills continue to develop at the same rate, maybe I’ll be able to have normal conversations with the other patients at the nursing home in a good 70 years. Have a nice one, horrible 1am rant brain out.

[thegeorgiatennantblog]

@dtmsrpfcringe I'm so honored to be part of the council. Let's get down to business now shall we.

I have so many things to say. I'm not going to start pointing out everything she has done for the trans community (I already did a post on that and how she doesn't get enough credit). The reason is 'cause there's nothing wrong with her that needs to be defended. BUT there's something very very wrong with @letscoffeebreak that needs to be called out.

First of all, it's a universally known fact that spite causes you to twist your entire view and narrative about something. So no matter if the sun starts rising from the west, you will not take off you bent glasses and see things for how they are. Letscoffee's misogynistic mindless hate towards G makes her completely oblivious to literally anything she's going to do. So, it doesn't matter anyway. I mean G could cut off her right arm and it still wouldn't be enough. I mean for the love of God, take your heads out of your asses for one minute and see it this way. What if I flip the slide aaaaaaannnnnd.... "Wow so David claims he cares so much about the Trans community but what has HE actually done for them other then make some statements and wear some stuff and use his wife's money and social media status to get credit for it". Makes sense, doesn't it?

Secondly, there is difference between their methods of activism because of their different social positions. D is a public personality. G is not so much. So, it just wouldn't seem right for her to be jumping into shoes that are not hers. She takes whatever social space she has and uses it for good causes.

Thirdly and this is something that I want to say in regard to the rpf debate as well there is a something these bches just CANNOT get their heads around: the problem is that 99.99999% of these people are NOT even British. Hence they end up forcing non-British sensibilities and context upon British people which is just ridiculous. David and Georgia are NOT international Hollywood personalities. They're a big thing in the local context like I dunno every country's industry has some people that are a HUGE deal at home AND have a considerable appeal internationally but aren't necessarily international stars as such. The thing I'm getting to here (and I'll get to it immediately because I have a tiny judge in my head saying 'I don't see where you're getting at with this line of reasoning counsel'), is two-fold. One: that whatever these two actually actually do with their preferred socio-political causes might be forever unknown to us because only someone who is British knows the nuances of the stuff that goes down over there. I for one cannot and will not judge from 5000 miles away. Two: there is no PR that is concerned with creating a superficial image of these people for American audiences (which forces D and MS to remain closeted and forces Georgia to do "white woman activism" even though she clearly couldn't care less) because they're literally (and no offence I love them, I wish their work would get more international recognition) not that important internationally. And on the British scene, well, 90% of the industry is openly queer and people love them so it really wouldn't ruin their careers if they came out AND it is literally easier to be a right wing TERF than a LGBTQIA supporting Lefty so if Georgia is doing something she's doing it from her heart and bearing the brunt of toxic terfs and whatnot because SHE ACTUALLY DOES CARE.

Lastly I would kill to have parents that support me for who I am. Who promise that they would take on the world to win me the right to be safe and happy and proud of my identity. Parents who I wouldn't have to lie to and hide and cover from. And you it wouldn't matter if they were being heavily politically publicly active about it. I would be ENOUGH if they'd just hold me and tell me I was complete and whole and beautiful in all my queerness and that they'd celebrate it with me for the rest of their lives. That they were proud of me.

And what have you done for trans and nonbinary communities @letscoffeebreak other than make us really fckn angry?!?

hold on hold on…has everyone seen letscoffeebreaks recent tirade against Georgia… bashing her lgbtq activism?! One of the most outspoken celebrities for the rights of trans youth…and they’re attacking her the fuck? If you want to see all of it (I’ll make a more detailed post later as my mind is fried and I have shit to do) just type in letscoffeebreak and then hit go to @letscoffeebreak

I need to hear everyone’s thoughts about this as it is so mind blowing so I am calling upon the council.

@davidtennantgenderenvy @thegeorgiatennantblog @goodomenswarning @sakuranova07 @nastasya--filippovna (I know I technically tagged you already but wanted to give your main credit too)

@anikaskywalkerlives @allonsy-moony @aq2003 @suz-blog @macpye @alloftimeandallofspace what do we think fellow council members?

[medicinemane]



I'm pissed enough that I typed "Fucking hell" into the search bar instead of tumblr, so you know how this post begins

Fucking hell I'm frustrated this morning, things are even worse with mom than they were last night

She's apparently been doing stuff like contacting habitat for humanity to see if they do home repairs because she's so worked up into a huge dither over this and how one guy saw a picture (of a fucked up floor, a floor fucked to begin with) and said that he thought the floor needed repair too

He probably thinks that it needs tiles cut for it, when that floor isn't tiled, it's fucking stickers over particle board basically... remember, last guy in here was a butt fuck moron

But can I get my mom to understand this? Can I get her to understand that we're not looking at $1000 quote to catastrophe range, that we're looking at $1000 quote vs less money cause we buy a toilet ourselves range?

100% I can not

I had a miserable sleep cause, you know... I actually have really bad social anxiety. If we're honest I think I straight up have some agoraphobia cause I hate going out unless it's dark cause I don't want anyone to see me

So guess what I don't want to do, basically politely grill a plumber over pricing

I fucking hate the thought of this so much. I'll be able to snap into faking it mode and make it work I'm sure, but I almost would rather way over spend than have to ask questions. This is why I wish I could just do everything myself, avoid having to talk to most people

So I'm already miserable, I feel like shit, I slept like shit... but then I have to deal with my mom catastrophic but in overdrive mode

I mean fuck, there is literally a decent tile floor underneath this shitty one. Dipshit literally covered up a lot of better floor with really bad floor, I can see it next to the doorjamb (there's a "b" at the end of this word!?)

Just like... am I making sense?

There's no way my mom's going to apologize when this is all over and works out fine. She's... she's really fucking... like not hurt my feelings, but like injured and caused me harm by way of stress, and she's not going to say sorry, and she'll do this again in a bit because she refuses to fucking grow up and learn to just sit with discomfort

Sometimes you say "well we'll know tomorrow" instead of fucking refusing to listen to your kid who has pulled miracles out of their ass over and over for you, and who has evidence to back stuff up, and trying to figure out how to tap your 401k and lose disability to avoid disappointing your asshole of a mother

Like I'm sure I sound mean but like... is it at least understandable why?

She always pulls this shit, always, and I've been having to emotionally regulate her like this since I was literally like 2 according to my dad (he told a very different story about the one time I threw a tantrum, where I was upset cause I wanted one stuffed animal, and my mom wanted another, and it beat my 2 year old ass up trying to pick between making myself or my mom happy since we could only afford one, and he was saying that my mom was kind of throwing a tantrum almost as much as I ended up doing it... then he came back and bought both later)

I don't know... just kill me

[wri0thesley]

Hey Nat, I'm kinda blaming you for my budding infatuation with Nanami and I was wondering if I may request Nanami and his s/o having their first kiss? It doesn't have to be long but I'm just feeling soft and with the way you write him it sounds like a treat once this reserved, professional man finally allows himself to give in

oh anon i am so... so very soft.... you cannot blame me for the nanami desire. he is simply irresistible. 

date night - nanami x reader (3k)

you’re nervous about your first date with nanami.

warnings: none. fluffy, soft. neutral reader, some mentions of food and alcohol.

You cannot help but be nervous about tonight.

Your friends have made fun of you, talking about your hot date – Gojo thumping you on the back, Shoko looking at you with her tired eyes but a smirk on her face. Neither of them really get it, you don’t think – to them, Nanami is their former junior who is just a little too serious for his own good. A gloomy, stoic presence who they trust implicitly due to the good head on his shoulders, but who they do not really see as ‘a potential romantic match’. They know that you’ve been harbouring a crush on the former salaryman for months, and they’ve already tried to warn you off him.

“He can be so boring,” Gojo had said, swinging an arm around your shoulders. “Let me set you up with someone instead!”

Your face had heated up at the idea that Gojo didn’t trust you to make your own romantic decisions, but he was already halfway through listing the name of every eligible bachelor he knew (and a few who he said ‘weren’t eligible, but they probably could be, for you!’). You’d been able to do nothing but listen politely as you’d walked with him to his classroom, occasionally gathering strange looks from the students that were milling around in the corridors.

“Think about it!” He’d cried to you as he’d stepped into his bare classroom (you hardly ever see him doing any actual classwork in there; mainly, you see him lying on top of desks and making fun of his students) and greeted the three first years waiting for him. “You don’t wanna be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life!”

You hope his students don’t hear him, as you decide to go for a walk outside to clear your head.

You and Nanami have been dancing around the idea of maybe possibly being something more than friends for weeks. You’ve felt it, in the brush of his hand against yours, the way that his eyes seem to soften and his tiredness seems to lift when you’re near him. You’ve felt it, as you’ve passed him a cup of coffee and he’s relished the warmth emanating from the cup. In the soft way he speaks to you.

You’ve felt it when he’s held your hand as the two of you have walked together, not saying anything. In his scarf wrapped around your neck, smelling like him.

What you haven’t done, is go on a date.

And perhaps this isn’t a date the way you’d once have dreamed about it. You’re going over to Nanami’s place; he’s going to cook a meal for you, the two of you are going to catch up after he’s been gone on a mission for almost a week -  the two of you are going to watch a foreign film he’s been able to get hold of, that you’ve been saving to watch with one another. You’re going to perhaps have a glass of wine together, or two--

You kind of do want to be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life.

It sounds so silly when you say it aloud! You haven’t even kissed him, just brushed fingers and held hands and saved each other’s lives whilst on exorcisms together. But whenever you close your eyes and imagine your future, Nanami is always there, right beside you.

You breathe in deeply. You have to ignore what Gojo and Shoko and everyone have been saying. They’ve known Nanami for longer than you – they were his upperclassmen, after all, and you suppose it’s traditional to make fun of and quash your younger classmates a little. You just need to think about what you want, and what Nanami himself may want. Plucking uselessly at your clothes, nerves fizzing in your stomach, you elect to ignore the anxiety gnawing at you until you’re at least outside of Nanami’s front door.

Then, you tell yourself, then, I’ll allow myself to panic a little bit. Seeing Nanami’s calm, handsome face always calms me down. The minute he answers the door, I’ll forget that I was even nervous, and everything will be just as it should.

It doesn’t stop you worrying, as you get dressed and try and fluff your hair and rearrange all of your accessories whilst you get ready. It’s just an evening at his house, you try and keep telling yourself. He’s not expecting me to show up like a runway model, he’d probably hate that anyway--

Still. Having a crush on somebody is never easy, and Nanami can be so utterly unreadable at times, that you get dressed and undressed twice more before you settle on something in between casual and formal; that looks like you’ve made an effort, without looking like you agonised for hours to figure out what the level of effort should be. You’re clutching a bottle of wine and standing outside of his door three minutes early, wondering if he’s the kind of man who gets annoyed if you are there too early.

The door swings open, and Nanami is there, leaning on the door frame. He’s breathtakingly handsome, in casual clothes – an expensive looking sweater in soft grey that gives just a peek at the column of his throat, cuffed jeans. You’ve never seen him look so . . . relaxed. And the fact that he’s looking at you, his lips barely tilting, his tired eyes just a little turned up at the corners.

“You look nice,” he tells you, and you thank God that you went with this outfit. You hold out the bottle of wine for him, and his smile breaks wider as he looks at it. “You didn’t need to bring me anything, you know. I’m happy to be the provider this evening.”

“It’s-- it’s polite!” You insist, and Nanami steps aside to allow you into his house. He’s very proper, and you’d wanted to impress him – you think the young lady who had served you in the specialist store you’d anxiously entered had sensed your worry, and had been very kind as she’d picked something for you she was certain you’d like.

“You made a good choice,” he tells you, as he invites you into his hallway and you gratefully pull off your shoes. “This one looks fine--”

“I didn’t really choose it,” you admit. “I let the experts do it.”

He laughs, the sound like an early spring morning. You don’t think anybody else hears him laugh like that, and the comfort that the two of you share makes you feel soft and warm.

“Even more admirable, then,” he says. “Most people we know would just barrel in guns blazing and insist they knew the right way to do things.”

You both share a secretive smile, your cheeks warming. You can feel tension draining out of you the longer you spend in Nanami’s company. Something about him just sets you at ease.

When you’d first met him, you’d been frightened of him. He seemed so gloomy and intense, so utterly focussed on his goals – when you had tried to speak to him, he had brushed you off with short one word answers and you’d caught him looking at you when your back was turned as if he was waiting for you to slip up.

But as time had worn on . . . as time had worn on, Nanami’s edges had softened. You’d realised that he was willing to talk, when the participant had proved themselves to be worth talking to. He’d told you once, shrugging, that most jujutsu sorcerers just tended to be . . . odd.

“Not you, though,” he’d said, and your heart had leapt in your chest. “Well. You’re not odd in any way that isn’t charming.”

He’s not usually the kind of man who heaps praise on other people; that little compliment, you had carried with you like a flame in your heart. The first time he had held your hand, he hadn’t said anything. The first time he had walked you home, and met you for coffee in a morning a half hour before you were due to be at the scene of an exorcism; Nanami Kento shows that he cares about you in a hundred different little ways that aren’t as simple as telling you it out and out. You admire that about him. You’re so used to putting your foot in your mouth.

“Come sit at the table,” he says, and you follow him obediently. His house is tastefully decorated, somewhere between modern and traditional; he has shelves of books everywhere, and that makes you smile. You’ve heard him say, sighing; “When I’m done with all this, I’ll finally have time to get around to reading them.” The shelf in the very corner of the dining area is the only one that looks well-thumbed; even from here, you can see that it’s where he keeps his recipe books.

“I hope you’ll like it,” you settle into the chair that he pulls out for you. He moves into the kitchen with purpose, grabbing serving dishes and utensils and juggling them with a precision that makes you admire him all the more. “I’m very glad you were on time. It’s the kind of dish that needs to be eaten at the exact right moment.”

He whips the cover off the main dish.

You knew that Nanami was a foodie. His instagram is full of pictures of various places and treats he’s eaten – with a particular focus on adorable baked goods, especially bread, that had made you feel warm inside when you’d noticed. Still, the spread that he’s laid out before you would not look out of place in the most high-class of restaurants; the kind that you’d never had the money to afford to eat in, and you’d have been afraid of showing yourself up at the tables of. You stare at it, mesmerised; the vegetables, so bright and colourful and steaming, lovingly presented – the glaze of the meats, the bowls full of side-dishes that you can’t quite recognise.

There’s an anxiety in his face when he looks at you.

“Sorry,” he says, quietly. “I think I probably over-estimated. And over-compensated, I suppose, for not taking you out to a restaurant--”

“No,” you say, quickly. “It looks delicious. I’m glad you invited me. It’s just . . . a lot.”

“Yes,” his eyes rove over the table. “There are only two of us.”

“It’ll make good left-overs,” you suggest, and he brightens.

“That should have been my line,” he tells you as he retrieves the wine you’d brought. You can see that there was already a bottle chilling in a bucket by the table, but Nanami’s face is affectionate as he pops the cork and pours some into the wine glass by your plate. “I’m supposed to be the responsible one.”

“Sorry for stealing your thunder,” you take a sip of the wine.

“Just as long as you don’t make a habit of it.”

The food really is delicious. You could easily have had seconds, or even thirds – on an ordinary day. A day in which your stomach isn’t churning from how alone the two of you are. There’s a buzz in the air that isn’t quite tension; more, it’s a promise that there’s more yet to come. You and Nanami laugh over dinner, the conversation surprisingly easy when the knot in your insides is so tight. He talks about his old job, and you talk about your own adventures before you’d ended up in Tokyo – he smiles, and laughs, more than you’ve ever seen him do.

He seems so much more at home here. That’s silly, considering it is his home – but somehow, there’d always been an image of Nanami in your head as serious and unforgiving with his tie very tight and his suits perfectly pressed even when he was relaxing in his own rooms.

That image is quickly wiped away, by the way he looks as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to take the dishes away.

“Let me help you wash up,” you try and say, but he waves you away.

“I’ll leave them for after you’ve gone,” he says. “I’m not going to ask a guest to do that. Or maybe I’ll even be bold; leave them for in the morning.” His smile makes you feel weak at the knees, this time – a spot of pink high on those sharp cheekbones. Is he blushing, or has his face gone rosy from the wine?

The two of you migrate into the living room. His television is large, but not ostentatiously so; a row of DVDs are neatly in the cabinet beneath it, mainly drama films, period films and some foreign prestige box sets. The movie the two of you have been talking about is one of those – a Danish film about an ageing detective who takes on one last case. You had originally planned to see it together, when it made it to Tokyo cinemas; but one thing had lead to another, and before you could both get the schedules to work out it had gone.

He places the DVD into the player and you can’t help but stare at him; how the soft material of the sweater clings to his broad shoulders, how the jeans seem to emphasise his ass – he’s always in slacks, you’ve never really had the chance to ogle it before, but seeing it in front of you now you suddenly understand why he keeps it covered. Who knows what riots it might incite, if it were just out and about for anyone to see?

“You’re staring,” Nanami turns his head slightly, catching your eye. Heat rushes to your face – but he keeps your eyes pinned with his own for a moment, before deliberately dragging them down the length of you, sat on the sofa. You feel hot and warm and bothered by the way he smiles afterwards, as if he is saying that he likes what he’s seeing too. “You don’t need to be sneaky about it. I don’t mind.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly going very dry. Nanami moves across the room, sitting on the sofa beside you. Heat seems to be radiating off of him; there’s a comfort in having him next to you.

“You look uncomfortable,” he says, five minutes into the movie. He leans back, an arm coming to rest on the back of the sofa behind you. “You can lean on me, you know. I don’t mind.”

He looks inviting. His head is tipped to one side as he meets your eyes; there’s no challenge in his. Just a softness. A quiet affection. Perhaps a touch of nervousness – of trepidation, that you’ll refuse the offer. You hesitantly sidle closer, leaning your head against his side. His scent wraps around you; freshly cleaned laundry, peppermint, coffee, spices, some of the wine from earlier--

You fair go dizzy at it all, but not as dizzy as you go when the arm on the back of the sofa wraps around you, his fingers resting on your shoulder. How are you supposed to concentrate on anything, with him so close to you? With everything about him making you feel like you’re on a roller-coaster climbing upwards and upwards, hurtling towards the inevitable?

You try – oh, you really do try – to keep your eyes on the film and the subtitles scrolling across the bottom of the television. But the aged detective is not half as interesting as Nanami; as the way he focusses on the screen, as his face bathed in the light. As his hand, as it gently starts to stroke over your shoulder, as if he’s barely aware he’s doing it. As his tongue, as it darts out to nervously lick at his lips.

“You’re staring at me,” he says, and you flinch that he’s noticed. His head turns, pinning you with the full force of his gaze. “Are you not enjoying it? We can turn it off?”

How do you answer that?

The real answer: ‘I’m not enjoying it because I can’t concentrate on anything other than you, and how badly I want to be brave enough to kiss you’, feels too bare and bold. You bite your lip.

Nanami leans in closer to you, so close that you can see the flush on his cheeks. The slightly ruffled hairs falling over his forehead. You can count his eyelashes, almost--

“I’m not sure what’s going on either,” he admits, softly. “And I can speak Danish.”

The arm not around your shoulders moves, resting on your waist. You can barely breathe. He’s so close to you; so gorgeous, in the light. All of that former salaryman indifference seems to have gone; he’s not cold any longer, but boiling hot. You’ve been watching it slowly strip away from him since you met him, you think, but tonight might be the first time he’s been Kento Nanami with no pretension.

Nervous about his food, even though he knows he’s an excellent cook. Blushing as he realises you’re checking him out. Almost trembling, as his hand slides up and he cups your cheek like you’re made of porcelain and he’s afraid he might drop and shatter you at any moment. You blink up at him, honey-slow, so dazed by his touch and his presence you can barely make sense of what’s happening.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Nanami says, as a warning. Even now, he seems to think you might pull away. But you cannot, you do not; you just press yourself closer into him, your voice coming out very soft and small as you whisper;

“Please do.”

He does not need to be asked twice. His lips are so soft against yours. The wine clings to them, intoxicating and heady. The hand on your cheek tips your face further up, so he can keep his mouth pressed against you so sweetly. You pull back, your heart pounding.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he’s saying, almost immediately, nervous that you have changed your mind – but all you do is free your arms, so you can wrap them about his neck and pull him in closer, to devour him the way you’ve wanted to for months.

The movie plays on, forgotten.

[recurring-polynya]

I used an RNG generator for this and got 10. Well:

A character/ship I didn't enjoy/think about as much before you wrote about them

That's an interesting one. I mean, it is true that I did not enjoy/think about the Renji/Rukia dynamic nearly so much before I stumbled across your writing as a part of my return to the fandom. But that seems kind of broad and obvious, so let me instead focus on a specific niche within your writing that I love, and I don't really see elsewhere, at least as much as I'd like:

Seireitei dynastic politics. I don't know if it's the amateur medieval historian in me or what, but I cannot get enough of the positioning and shenanigans among the wider Kuchiki clan, and how it relates to their greater position in Soul Society, and how Renji and Rukia-- two people who did not ever think they'd be here-- are figuring out how to deal with it. It's an undercurrent in a lot of your writing, but it really stands out in Portions for Foxes (RIP Byakuya) and the choices they have to make, and the stress that puts on them...it's wonderful I'm so sorry they have to deal with that.

(Fanfic Asks for the Asker)

I have seen some of this in other fanfics (probably because I read a lot of Byakuya fanfic), but I feel like I come at it from a slightly different angle. I think most people who like writing that kind of stuff are into palace dramas, where there are assassinations and poisonings and marriages being sabotages. I both a) am not good at that stuff and b) do not like it because I do not like when people are mean to each other.

What I do like is period dramas and literature (primarily Jane Austen novels) where everyone's social status puts a very strong color on their motivations and ability to do things. I ended up giving up on Downton Abbey (see: I hate mean people being mean), but the theme of old families with titles who have lost all their money on bad investments suddenly having to tolerate the nouveau rich, somehow really pressed itself into my brain.

In Soul Society, there's wealth, which is somewhat couples to nobility (although there does seem to be a very distinct gulf between, say, Byakuya and Omaeda), but there's also spiritual power, which can be somewhat generated by bloodline, but the Kuchiki family in particular, seem to be running dry of it. We see on-screen Byakuya grow more accepting of Rukia as his sister as the story goes on, but I think it's tremendously interesting that his family gave him all this shit for adopting a street urchin, but then she goes on to become a captain, I mean, that's absolutely wild!

I am also mildly obsessed with this one New Year's comic where Byakuya gives Ichigo a "Sakura-Crested Kuchiki All-Access Pass" which gets him free stuff "from any Kuchiki-managed store", which implies that the Kuchiki family owns a lot of business concerns around town. There are clearly these other Kuchiki...around...doin' stuff, and I just want to know more about them.

When I first started writing Byakuya fanfic, I had to really dig for something I liked about him, and the two things I came up with were 1) he loved his wife and 2) he takes his responsibilities extremely seriously. I know everyone hates the Captain Amagai filler arc, but I actually really liked it because we got to see what other noble clans are like, and it implied that there are better things to do in the Seireitei when you're rich than go to Hueco Mundo and sever your own tendons. I really dig the idea that Byakuya has this huge sense of obligation that his relatives generally lack. This also feeds into why he ends up loving Rukia and Renji so much, is because they feel that duty to the good of Soul Society in the way that he does. In their case, they feel like noble families ought to be doing something will that wealth and power because they have seen things from the other side, but the end effect is the same: they all want to hold the Kuchiki to a high standard and then work hard to that end.

I'm really glad to hear you enjoy my efforts on this front, because it's really hard and I don't always feel like I do a very good job of it. I am not a Japanese history scholar and every time I try to do research, the only thing I come away with is "Soul Society isn't very historically accurate," although it is sort of an interesting mishmash of things. Like, you can very distinctly imagine them being aware of the Meiji Restoration going on the Living World and covering their eyes and saying "I do not see it," and then immediately adopting a bunch of the technological and cultural advances that followed, but only the ones they liked. I do my best, though, and if something I write is occasionally cribbed from the copper auction drama from Poldark, well... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[bravewolfvesperia]

Not that he would say being soft and kind was the issue... but he wasn't sure how he felt about being led to a secluded place. At the same time, he understood it. This was probably something that needed privacy, just... he might not have picked a place like that; especially given that he didn't know how Ludger would react to hearing that his employer was someone he knew and was family.

Yuri blinked at Ludger's response to his apology. "I... well, I don't think you came here to talk about my work and all its miseries." Of course it made sense to tell him ultimately, since in this case Ludger was the target... but Ludger didn't know that. As far as he could be aware, this could just be any old work moaning. It wasn't like Yuri hadn't talked about work in a less than positive way before. He just... supposed he didn't want their relationship to exist off of nothing but Yuri's job... especially when it was what it was.

Save a life... Yeah, literally. He wasn't sure how literal that surprise cliff dive comment was, but it sure would have been figurative if Yuri had tried to go through with this. Still, Yuri wasn't used to the idea of Ludger being... not necessarily not a social butterfly, since he didn't necessarily know him well enough to say he was now, but... he couldn't really imagine him not being polite, friendly and trying to be in someone's good graces as much as possible. He'd been able to get to know Ludger and lure him into this attempted trap because he'd been willing to talk to a total stranger.

While it wasn't right away, Yuri did start to have doubts somewhat quickly. He considered himself fairly good at reading people and who he was dealing with. Felt like he could see a genuine person from someone trying to use him for something. Maybe it came from knowing the types of people that he did, and having grown up in the Lower Quarter while seeing how... shallow people from the Noble Quarter were. How people with money always wanted something from other people. They didn't mingle for happiness and fun. They mingled for connections and wealth. At the very least, he could tell the difference between false pleasantries and a genuine search for connection.

"Plus, I'd rather not be known as like... the guy who bothers you about my job when you probably come to a bar to wind down. I know I'm not always like that, so I don't want it to get too common for one particular person." It didn't start that way, but once he realized he didn't want to finish the job, it became a lot of... nearly moping. For the most part, that moping was out of realization of his own shortcoming. That he hadn't done his research before taking the job and had assumed the worst about someone without properly understanding the situation. How much could he say he'd grown after all this time if he was still doing that?

He returned to his drink, waste unwanted as another part of him from his childhood lodged itself into his present actions. I'd offer you a card game or something, but I might be a bit distracted. The good news is I could probably play poker completely normal... since normally my poker face is laughing at everything so that nothing in my hand seems suspicious. If I'm distracted, I might be more sullen the whole time instead, but I'd be too distracted and mopey to give my hand away. Might work out."

As CEO, Ludger's learned to spot small signs someone isn't satisfied with a deal. Yuri checks off several boxes as he answers from mental miles away. Ludger has a guess why he's so put-off though: everyone always gives him a strange look when they see his pragmatic side. Doesn't fit his image as "the Ludger who's overly nice about everything". Not that he ever asked to be a supposed marshmallow boy...

"I'm sorry how this must look coming from a softie like me. But I promise it's all for your safety," Insisting likely won't help, but Ludger still tries.

Duval has no shortage of prying eyes looking to abuse someone's juicy business... unless you pay her to look the other away. Of course that price often shoots through the roof the second it's Spirius' CEO asking. Yet as long it benefits his family and friends, Ludger doesn't mind feeding the leeches. Gald eventually comes back with time and effort; a loved one leaves forever. Ludger knows too well.

With all cards in place, Yuri offers an apology Ludger never thought he'd hear.

"...You think you're killing my mood?" All brain functions shut down as he parses this never heard before sentence. Once he does, he awkwardly smiles, "S-Sorry for the weird reaction; usually I'm the one who's told to chin up. It's nice to know I've come a long way from how I was a year ago."

Back then he used to avoid conversations with anyone he didn't already have a connection with. And when he had to engage, he spoke in quiet fragments that screamed "I don't want to be here". Now look at him: people think he's the optimistic social butterfly.

"But just know I'm more than happy to listen about your life, good and bad. Call it the do-gooder bug or something else, I like to help other people however I can. Just a few words can save a life-- least when it's not busy taking me on a surprise cliff dive."

Still never forgiving Kazuya for that. NEVER EVER.

"Though, um, i-if I can ask before you go--if you are leaving that is--do I really seem cheerful?"

[hardtchill]

Discord anon said that as of last week, Tobin still wants LA. However, they also said that if Harvey/Reign can convince her to stay, she might. Harvey isn’t ready to let her go yet. When we consider that she had to fight Tobin in the first place with putting the extension in her contract, this makes sense. She knew from the beginning that she was getting Tobin too late in the season to do much of anything with her. It sounds like she wants the opportunity to have her for at least a full season. Tobin leaving early seems to have made her want to trigger the extension even more. Also, I’m sure Harvey isn’t thrilled at losing such a high profile vet for $0. Tobin brings in a lot of money to a club with just her name alone and people show up to see her. Idk. I see why she wants to have Tobin fit and playing for them one more time. The extension makes sense to me. I just don’t think Tobin will do it.

Thank you for sending an ask that explains a different opinion in a polite way without cursing me out 🧡

I can 100% see Laura wanting a fully fit Tobin on her team, i'm just not sure if the believe for a fully fit Tobin still exists. I haven't done a full body scan to check what area's in her body are still functional but i see quite a lot of similarities between Tobin and other athletes whose bodies never really got back to the shape needed for pro sports. That doesn't mean she can't ever get back to that shape, i just think that the chance of it happening isn't that high.

Personally if i was Laura i don't think i would offer the extension simply because Reign already has multiple injury prone players. Having Tobin on the roster also means having one spot less for another player (and a relatively big bite out of your salary cap). The deadline also doesn't help. In November you don't know yet which rookies you will get from the college draft and what international players you could potentially sign during the winter transfer window. If the deadline was later (and it was fair on Tobin) i would first make sure the roster was balanced and competitive before adding someone like Tobin.

Besides, extension or not Tobin will leave for $0 unless Laura pulls a really weird one and offers Tobin a multi-year contract.

[heyitsmerose]

Russian Roulette | Mafia!Seonghwa

Pairing: Mafia!Seonghwa x Assassin/Sniper!Reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia!

Word Count: 11.2k

Summary: A part of the infamous Park gang, your life is never short of crazy. You've never met the man himself, but tonight something is different. He accompanies the rest of the gang to one of your usual Friday night outs. It all goes south however, as you discover the night doesn't turn out as it's supposed to, a dangerous obstacle in your way. You are forced to pick between the lives of your boss, your best friends and young boy in a menacing game of Russian Roulette.

Warnings/Disclaimer: I am aware the Mafia life is nothing like I am portraying it. It is definitely not full of attractive, young, single people and many nasty/dirty things happen behind the scenes. Furthermore this is quite a serious topic as some people lose their lives over this. I will not be portraying the reality of mafia gangs, instead just an idealised version (thus remember, none of this is real). That being said, a little imagination and creativity never hurt anyone did it? Also this is my second SeonghwaxMafia fic oops.

Blood + Wounds

Mafia + Gangs

Guns + Weapons

Underage Drinking + Assault

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Youtube Playlist

1:55  ───|────── 4:45

|◁              II             ▷| *I've spent a few weeks on this, I'm sorry if there are spelling errors, I've read the entire thing maybe 5-6 times.

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Friday. 6 pm. After-work hours. What were you doing? What every other normal friend group would do; go to the nearby bar to relax. Except you weren't normal. You and 14 or so others in the bar at the moment, had a dirty secret. You were a part of a gang, a mafia gang to be exact. In all honesty, unlike the movies or stories that had portrayed them, the public rarely knew about mafia gangs, let alone knew if they existed. You could roam around freely without the need to worry about someone recognizing you. No one would know that such a pretty face hid such a dark secret.

Besides, this was your lifestyle now. You knew the gang was political and focused on some power struggle but you couldn't care less. Frankly, the only reason you joined the gang was that you were broke. You were introduced to it after you stumbled into this exact bar at the age of 16, wanting to become a bartender as you knew it paid well. You tried applying for the job but it turned out you were underage and couldn't work at the bar yet. While you were slapped by reality, however, someone was watching your every move. She was young too, maybe 15 or 16 and she had noticed you the moment you entered the bar/club. Not too many new people came along so she was intrigued. Immediately when she sensed your aura and your personality, she knew you'd fit in well with the gang.

She noticed how confidently you carried yourself and noticed your dark fashion choice. She stared as you made your way to the counter, swaying your hips as you got the attention of the bartender. The way, you leaned against the counter cooly, your lips parted slightly as you waited for a response. As she kept looking at you you looked back, feeling someone glare holes into the back of your skull. You noticed a young girl, hair a burgundy color with full black clothes. She smiled at you softly and you only raised your eyebrows before rolling your eyes and averting eye contact. What a badass personality you had. Perfect.

Despite really wanting a friend in the gang, and wanting to recommend you to the boss, she couldn't. Alas, she was only a young hacker and her position was not too significant. What she didn't expect was for you to come up to the group yourself, and introduce yourself. You got your response from the manager, and it was not one you were too happy with, you scoffed and turned on your heel, looking for a way to better your situation and rotten mood. She picked up her drink and gulped it down after you looked away. She looked back at you and you were gone. Her eyes widened as she sighed. She knew you'd get along but she was never going to see you again. The last thing she expected was to hear a voice from near the central table.

"Listen up people. Is this some sort of badass, thug gig? Are yall hiring? Can I be a part of this?" You announced. She spat out her drink and choked, hearing your words. Not only were you an outsider intruding on their business, but you had also shamed the gang in front of the underboss, one of the people present there.

Being somewhat new herself, She got nervous thinking of the consequences you'd face for messing with the mafia world. She heard a deep chuckle from behind her, somewhere and chills ran down her spine.

"Actually, we do have an opening" One of the taller males whispered in a low voice. At this point, no one could tell if he was being serious or whether he just wanted to chop your head off. She gripped her drink harder and stared at both of you. She noticed it was none other than the boss's right-hand man and most trusted member, the underboss, San. Should anything happen to the boss, the gang would be given to San.

You twirled a piece of your hair in between your fingers as you smiled back. You weren't intimidated. Besides, he looked no more than around 5 years older than you. You stepped closer, staring into his sparkling, yet cold brown eyes. You noticed how his hand gravitated dangerously close to your personal space and you were slightly more alert. Through the corner of your eye, you noticed how his hand was moving closer to your waist but none of you broke eye contact. Before his hand made contact with your waist, you grabbed his wrist. The hand that was twirling the piece of hair swiftly snapped down, grabbing his wrist tightly. His eyes widened and he tried pulling away gently while you kept the firm grip, not breaking eye contact. The others around you gasped but you kept glaring at him while he had an amused smirk on his face.

"What kind of opening?" You gritted out. Sure, you were desperate, but you weren't going to let people throw you around and use you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to assert dominance but he just looked at you and tilted his head. A smile broke out on his face, a genuine one this time. You loosened your grip, letting go of him, still a little cautious as he simply massaged his wrist, still maintaining a smile on his face.

"I think you'll like it more than you think"

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Although you had originally joined because you needed money. You found that this lifestyle had fit you more than you thought. You enjoyed the thrill and you couldn't imagine yourself working anywhere else. It had been around 5 years since you joined and you were now 21. Meanwhile, the burgundy-haired girl, Ashe, became your best friend and you even lived together. The bond you shared was to die for, you loved each other to bits but also were each other's biggest supporters. You maintained your bitchy persona and starting rubbing off on Ashe too. Soon, she also developed a colder more confident aura. You were with her through thick and thin. Your position now was a spy and secondary shooter. Despite shooting not being your main pursuit, out of the gang, you were one of the most skilled in using them. Some even compared you to the boss, but you shrugged them off. San was for sure the best shooter out of the entire gang though.

Surprisingly, San, the underboss, who you found was 22 at the time was now 27. You had developed a close bond. Your relationship consisted of a lot of teasing and inside jokes as well as a lot of protectiveness from San. Although your relation started rough, it slowly transitioned from mean comments to teasing names and now playful banter. You had a sibling relationship and he was like the brother you never had. You both were the best with guns in your entire gang so you bonded quite a lot as you spent a lot of time training and practicing together. Not to mention when you'd both geek out over specific new models that were brought into the weaponry.

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Back to the present, you were at the usual bar. After joining the gang, you quickly realized that this was the go-to spot for after-work hours. It wasn't mandatory to come here, but it was kind of a tradition every Friday to come and just let loose for a bit. Most of the gang was here and it was usually the same people every time. Today though, something was different. The boss had come in. To outsiders it would seem casual, as if a normal friend group was getting wasted, to everyone in the gang though, you knew that was far from the truth.

The boss had never come with you guys, and although it was after working hours, you all couldn't help but be on your best behavior. He had often heard that his gang members would meet up after work on a friendly basis and he wanted to know what this was about. He heard San talking about it during work once and was intrigued ever since. Thus, here you were... here he was... along with the 14 or so others who usually came to the bar.

To be completely honest, coming to the bar was your favorite part of your job, scratch that, your entire week. You looked forward to it all week and when it finally came you let loose. It was a known fact that you and San were the crazy daredevils of the group. You both had absolutely no fear or shame in the things you did. Today though, you both had tried to be on your best behavior. Despite being his right-hand man, San was still a little intimidated by Seonghwa and you often used to playfully gossip about him, so you both made sure to behave today, or at least tried...

Seonghwa stuck out like a sore thumb. It was clear no one was expecting him to come, and to be honest, nobody wanted him to come either. He was leaning against a counter, eyes scanning the crowd carefully while sipping a rather small glass of whiskey. Typical Seonghwa, being cautious and defensive even off the job. You hadn't had too many personal encounters with Seonghwa, you had just seen him around a bunch.

Meanwhile, although you and San had agreed to tone it down a bit, you couldn't help it. Drunk was an understatement. You rushed over to the front as soon as the adrenaline hit you and had roughly shoved some people off the raised platform of the dance floor. You were shouting random lyrics into the crowd and hyping everyone up while pulling a few random strangers onto the stage. After swaying your hips a bunch and screaming song lyrics into strangers' faces, you realized this still wasn't enough. You staggered to the DJ and snatched one of the many mics and went back to the stage.

Acquired with a new toy to distract you, you began to get everyone's attention.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen" You slurred into the mic. By now, most of the gang members had gotten used to your crazy shenanigans and didn't mind. Although many were initially afraid of San, you had defiantly changed him for the better. He finally found someone to match his energy and charisma and he let loose a little, finally free to show his true self. Everyone had gotten used to it at this point, but this was different, the boss was here.

Most of them immediately sobered up hearing your booming voice from the gigantic sound boxes. Ashe was hooking up with some random girl somewhere else, but as soon as she recognized it was you, she immediately began to look for you.

"How's everyone doing tonight? Are we having funn?" By now, you had gotten the attention of everyone in the bar, including Seonghwa. He looked at you with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, he recognized you. You were the little minx that caught his eye the day you joined the gang, you barely spoke to him, but he could sense the confident aura radiating from you.

The mic was roughly snatched from you, by one of the guys, you assumed was the manager, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes, walking towards the dance floor. He wasn't going to stop you, no one was. Since you had gotten everyone's attention, everyone's eyes were on you. You hopped over to the center of the dance floor, hair bouncing as you fully let go. You swayed your hips and ran your fingers through your hair.

You heard a few whistles and hollers around you and a bunch of hands touching your waist. At this point, you were too drunk to even react properly and just continued dancing, enjoying the attention. You hyped everyone up and began jumping to the beat, hair bouncing over your shoulders as you shook your head from side to side at the beat.

By now, you had caught Seonghwa's attention too, he was intrigued by your carefree persona outside work and admired your ability to separate your two lives. Meanwhile, Ashe had rushed to your side, trying to pull you away from everyone. Despite being drunk, her motherly instincts kicked in and she felt the need to protect you.

"Y/n, what are you doing? The boss is watching!" She practically yelled. You just gave her a disapproving look and pulled her into the middle of the circle.

"Asheeee, just let loose for one night, why are you always so uptight?" You slurred to her, caressing her waist. She gulped and looked back at your eyes. You raised your eyebrows and smirked, if only you knew the effect you had on her. As if on cue, the DJ played the worst song possible, a slow, sensual one.

You whispered the lyrics into her ear as you wrapped your arms around her neck. You caressed the back of her neck with your fingers and tugged on the smaller strands of hair in the back. You slowly started moving your waist to the rhythm as she tried steadying you, you were drunk, this was not okay. You pulled your hands away from her neck and caressed her cheeks in both of your hands, inching closer. You kept whispering the lyrics and she felt your warm breath on her lips. She was slowly gaining confidence and eventually grabbed your waist in her hands. You looked down at her hands and smirked. You brought one of the hands caressing her cheek to softly trace her bottom lip. You stared at her lips, inching closer and closer, warm breaths mixing.

All of a sudden you turned around, your back facing her, as she steadied you again. You began moving again, bending forwards purposely to rub against her. You swayed your waist and pushed backward. She knew what you were doing and slowly inched her hands downwards towards your ass. Although you were best friends, there was no doubt that there was some sexual tension between the two of you.

She began tracing patterns on your hips and butt as one hand remained on your waist. She felt around your waist, trailing patterns around your skimpy black dress until she felt a harder material near your chest and stomach. She blushed immediately not meaning to touch you there and placed her hand back on your waist. You chuckled as you ground against her harder, now definitely trying to start something. She lightly moaned as she gripped your hips, trying to pull you back up, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back for much longer like this.

"Goodness me, what have I walked upon here?"

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Way to ruin the moment Choi San...

Ashe froze upon hearing his voice. She immediately pulled her hands away from you and stepped back, a dark red blush now coating her features. Meanwhile, you were too drunk to think straight and simply frowned at the lack of contact, you were just about to get laid.

The second the others saw Ashe step away from you, random strangers started touching you again. One of them grabbed your waist, as another gripped your chin. You closed your eyes and continued moving to the beat and San sighed.

"I think that's enough, step aside before I make you" San huffed, a hint of frustration and anger at the end. Everyone obliged immediately upon sensing his dominating aura and you were once again alone. You sighed, eyebrows furrowing as you looked around, most of the people around you had moved away. You stumbled slightly and tried stabilizing yourself, only to fail miserably and almost fall over.

San rushed over and held you by your shoulders to steady you.

"Why hello there, handsome man" You sloppily winked at San and he rolled his eyes.

"Y/n what on earth are you doing? You made quite the scene just then..."

"I was having fun... you're such a killjoy, Saniee." You slurred, sticking your pointer finger into his chest. He simply pushed your finger away, trying to be strict with you.

"Yeah, your definition of fun being screaming lyrics into the mic nearly deafening everyone, throwing yourself at random people, grinding on Ashe and almost kissing her, and practically falling on the floor and eating shit" He was frustrated, but he couldn't help but feel protective over you. Despite scolding you, he still had an arm around your waist, looking deeply into your eyes, hand on your back, holding you up so you didn't fall. It was subtle things like this that showed that he deeply cared and under his strictness, he was just a big softie.

"I- I what?" You sighed trying to step away, now that he was recalling the events it started setting in.

"Yeah, how about we sober up, hmm?" He asked and you nodded as he dragged you back to the counter. You looked back one last time, only to see Ashe looking at you with heartbroken eyes. You looked away feeling guilty as tears glimmered in her eyes. To you it was just a bit of fun, to her it meant the world. Even just a few minutes where you seemed interested in her made her feel special. Deep down, you knew she might have liked you, so why did you lead her on and rub yourself against her?

You sighed shakily feeling immensely guilty. San looked down at you, as he noticed tears falling down your eyes.

"Aren't you a mess?" He chuckled and you breathed out shakily

"Shut up san" Your voice broke as you softly spoke. His eyes widened and he sat you down on a barstool.

"Why are you crying, what's wrong?" He asked as he rubbed under your eyes with his thumbs, gripping your jaw with one hand.

"I might have ruined my friendship with Ashe," You said softly and he sighed.

"Why would you think that?" He said, looking into your eyes as you tried averting eye contact.

"Deep down, I had a feeling she liked me, and I made things worse by leading her on. I rubbed myself on her like an idiot and I fucking led her on, gosh I'm such a bad friend!" Your voice cracked as San 'hmmed in understanding.

"Well, why did you do that?" He asked as he gripped your chin making you look back at him.

"I- I... I was drunk, I AM drunk." You clarified, stuttering a bit.

"No you're not," He said matter-of-factly. You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you urged him to continue.

"Y/n, I've known you for more than 5 years now, I've seen you drunk over a million times, I can tell when you're actually drunk... You may have fooled the others, but not me. Here's the real question, why the fuck are you pretending to be drunk?" He asked all of a sudden and you felt vulnerable.

It was crazy how he could read you like an open book. Your eyes widened as you tried looking away, there was no point in continuing the charade at this point. He looked back at you expectantly and sighed, as he saw you getting nervous.

"It's alright, I don't think anyone else noticed either, now please tell me what's wrong?" He said in a soft tone as you sighed.

"I can't tell you San," You said looking back into his eyes.

"Why? We aren't on duty, why are you being so secretive? Especially with me?" He specified the word 'me'. It was true, you usually never kept anything from each other so this was a bit weird.

"I just can't tell you I'm sorry" You sighed, tugging on the roots of your hair, as your hands gripped your scalp. He just sighed in understanding and got up. As he was about to leave, your hand snapped back and you gripped his forearm.

"I'm sorry San, but I can't help it. One more thing, don't you dare tell anyone." Your voice dropped an octave lower and he gulped, he had never seen you so serious before.

"Act as if you know nothing, I'm sorry it has to be this way, but just carry on with whatever you were doing and please stay out of my business just for today." His eyes bore into yours dangerously but you didn't back down. You had never commanded him before, so this must have been serious. He eventually realized it must have been something important and walked away, but not before scoffing at you.

You sighed and looked down, feet dangling over the barstool. That was close. With your cover now blown and known to San, you had to be a little more careful now. You were glad no one else had figured out though, not even your best friend Ashe. Your thoughts went back to Ashe and you felt incredibly guilty. How stupid you were, willing to throw away your friendship of 5 years, your only real friendship just to put on an act and sell your drunk state. Pathetic. You sighed as you looked back to where you were a couple of minutes ago. Although you felt immensely guilty, you couldn't help it, it was a part of your act.

Trying to go back to what you were doing, you eyed a few of the people at the bar. Although you had to act drunk, actually drinking was off-limits for today. You ordered a sparkling lemonade for yourself while looking around. Meanwhile, your eyes caught on Seonghwa. He was leaning against a counter, head leaning back. his eyes were closed and his soft bangs fell over his forehead. He brought his drink up to his lips and took a small sip. As he swallowed you saw how his adam's apple bopped up and you gulped feeling giddy inside. You tried shaking yourself out of it, but when he placed his drink aside and ran his hand through his soft, black hair, you almost lost it. You could barely see the sheen of sweat coating his forehead as he brushed his fingers through his hair.

Luckily for you, you were interrupted by the bartender bringing over your drink, and you looked away embarrassed. You shook your head to get rid of any weird thoughts or feelings as you were sure you were practically drooling. Without looking, you brought the glass to your lips to have a sip. Just as you were about to take a sip though, you caught a whiff of a rather familiar smell. You pulled the glass away from your lips and looked questioningly at the bartender.

He just looked the other way and raised his eyebrows, ushering you to follow his gaze. As you did, you found a well-built, tall, brown-haired man staring back at you. You looked back at your drink and swirled it around a bit. You noticed that it was an alcoholic drink and there were some undissolved white particles at the bottom of the cup. You looked back up at him and he simply winked at you, smirking. Pathetic. He just tried to fucking drug you and thought you'd fall for it.

You smirked realizing your act worked and he actually thought you were drunk. You tried to cover up your discomfort and simply flashed him a lop-sided smile. You turned around, tilting your head back and lifting your hand to your mouth, acting as if you had just downed the drink. You sneakily slid the drink over the counter into some far corner, so no one would notice. You messed up your hair slightly before turning back around to catch his attention to further solidify your act. As soon as you turned back around to look at the guy though, you noticed he was gone. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around, trying to find him.

"Looking for me, honey?" You heard someone sensually whisper into your ear from the side. Chills ran down your spine, but you tried to cover up your discomfort and disgust. You turned to him, looking him in the eyes, making sure to look a little droopy before calling out to him.

"Hi~" You slurred, making sure to breathe out so your warm breath hit his face. His eyes immediately rolled in pleasure, jaw-dropping as he took in your sexy aura. You almost scrunched your face in disgust but clenched your jaw to stop your reflexes. He opened his eyes again and inched closer to your face as he spoke again.

"You're so gorgeous, damn, how have I never noticed you?" He said, his breath hitting your face. Your nose scrunched as you smelled the alcohol in his breath. Luckily he thought you were just reacting to his compliment. More importantly, however, you confirmed he was drunk... Perfect. He would most likely let down his guard so you had a solid chance at executing your plan. He also revealed that he was a regular at the bar, another important piece of information you needed to confirm your suspicions.

You giggled as your hand slowly trailed up his chest. You rested your hand firmly on his chest as you tried to push yourself further into him. He hummed and trailed a hand down to your waist. Although you didn't want his hands all over you, it was inevitably a part of the job, so you tried your best to just power through it and ignore it.

He leaned in closer until his bangs fell over your forehead. He secured his hands around your waist and held you tight. You flinched from the roughness and tried squirming around to loosen, his grip but he didn't budge. Soon a hand trailed to the side of your hip and you knew where this was going. You sighed and looked down at his hand. Normally, you would have instantly pushed him away, but this mission was far more important than how you were feeling at the moment.

He rested his hand near the dip of your waist, right above your hip, testing the waters. Remembering that you needed to act drowsy, you looked back up at him, your eyes fluttering as you smiled one last time, before falling limp in his arms. You heard him grunt as he easily threw you over his shoulder. Although this should have seemed like a major red flag to anyone around you, people weren't paying attention and they probably didn't care either. You internally whined at the situation you were in and slyly looked around, he was walking towards the back of the club, near the backrooms. You wiggled around a bit in his arms and he resorted to pressing a hand against your ass. You moved around slightly, still acting as if you were drugged, trying to get his hand off you, you couldn't directly push it off as he'd know something was up.

"Where are we goingg" You slurred, trying to indicate you were still conscious.

"Don't worry about that, honey" He whispered, smacking your ass. What a pathetic sick fuck he was. You groaned at the impact, bracing yourself for what was to come next.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was simply looking around, observing his surroundings and being cautious as usual, when he noticed a man carrying one of the ladies into the backrooms. He knew she was unconscious, most likely drugged and being taken into the room against her will. It seemed as though the people around them didn't even care. He looked a little more closely and noticed what she was wearing. A bodycon black dress up till her thighs, with studded embellishments on the waistline and straps. It was you. He has seen you around the headquarters, tagging behind San all the time.

"Y/n?" He whispered, beginning to get a little angry, it was one thing to mistreat a woman and force yourself on her, but it was another to mess with a member of his gang. He saw how you were thrown over his shoulder, head hanging upside down, hair cascading down halfway to the floor. He huffed in anger, looking around for backup, ready to stop him, but when he saw the man smack your ass and feel up your dress, he lost it. He smashed his glass of whiskey onto the nearest counter, glass shattering as he did so.

He immediately pushed past the people around him, trying to get to you. His head tilted slightly down, eyes locked on his target, a few meters ahead. He looked psychopathic in all honesty. His bangs covered his forehead and eyes slightly. With his head tilted down, he was able to cover up his deadly eyes and killer expression. He couldn't care less about the people around him at that moment, his only concern was teaching that guy a lesson for messing with his gang.

He pushed past some people, shoving a couple of guys on the way until he was about halfway there. He was ready to just fully commit and barge across another load of people before he was interrupted.

"Uhh Hwa? What are you doing? Why do you look like you're about to kill someone?" He heard someone next to him say. He whipped his head to the side, ready to punch whoever it was that came in his way, before realizing it was San

"Because that's exactly what I was about to do, before you came in my way, now move." San shivered at his tone. Never had Seonghwa ever commanded San in such a way. Sure Seonghwa had been angry a lot in the past, but his frustration this time seemed more emotionally fuelled.

"No, no, no, that isn't a good idea, how about we think about this for a secon-"

"I SAID MOVE! Can't you hear me?" Seonghwa growled as San violently flinched at his loud tone.

"Why what's so urgent, is everything alright?" San inquired, straightening his clothes a bit, and regaining his composure.

"I'm not obligated to tell you that" Seonghwa finally said, before shoving San out of the way and walking towards the direction the man was walking before. What he didn't realize though, was that in the time it took him to talk to San, the man had seemingly disappeared.

"What's wrong?" A voice from beside broke him out of his thoughts.

"Look what you've done, I lost the man now" Seonghwa replied, massaging his temple, trying to calm his frustration.

"What man?"

"Someone threw the girl- Y/n over his shoulder and took her to one of the back rooms" He claimed, gripping the bridge of his nose in annoyance. San's eyes widened and he gasped. He knew you were up to something tonight but was this a part of your plan?

"What?" Was the only thing he could muster. He wanted to ask why, where, and how you even got in that situation, but he was too stunned.

"Not only that, he had the guts to slip his hand under her dress and feel her up, not to mention inappropriately grab her and spank her" He sighed, beginning to look around again. San gasped and immediately began frantically looking.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier" He panicked, looking around, running towards the backrooms trying to find you. He didn't doubt that you could defend yourself, but what if someone did drug you. He knew you knew better than to accept drinks from strangers and were always cautious, but he couldn't help but worry. His breath quickened and he began pacing around frantically.

"Calm down, we'll find her" He felt a pat on his shoulder, reassuring him. He let out a sigh, before nodding and continuing to look around.

"Why does this girl mean so much to you anyway?" Seonghwa dared to question, voice slightly laced with a negative tone. Was he shaming him, threatening him, genuinely curious, or maybe even slightly jealous of the way you were able to bond so easily?

"You don't even know the half of it."

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Meanwhile, the man had dragged you into one of the rooms in the back, locking it before, dropping you on the bed. Your legs dangled off the bed as he slowly approached you. He unfastened his belt and slowly pulled it through the belt loops. Through the corner of your vision, you were able to see exactly what he was doing and you knew where this was going.

He dropped the belt and slowly climbed on the bed, hovering over your legs. Meanwhile, your fists clenched unconsciously, head slowly turning away from him as he approached you. You really didn't want to do this, but you had no other choice. You had to keep him occupied for another hour or so and you had no clue how else to. You couldn't poison him or knock him out as you had no clue what tracking devices he could have had on him. Your jaw tightened and your hands unconsciously gripped at his shirt, subtly trying to push him away. Feeling some rustling from underneath, he looked down at your hands and noticed you pushing him away.

"Aw, honey there's no need to be scared" He whispered and you internally sighed.

"I never got your name, by the way, I bet a pretty face like this has a pretty name too..." He whispered into your ear from above.

"Y/n" You weakly grumbled.

"Yours?" You dared to question him back.

"Jungwoon, but I doubt you'll remember it tomorrow," He said, caressing your face. You sighed and realized he was right, you had to act as nothing had happened.

You shouldn't be able to even remember that his name was Jungwoo- Wait. His name is Jungwoon. Jungwoon? That wasn't the name you were told earlier when you were informed of the mission. Unless you got the wrong person... Your eyebrows furrowed unintentionally as you tried processing the information.

"Why? surprised honey? I'm second in line to the Kwon empire, brother of the infamous mafia boss, CJ Kwon" He said snickering a little. What an idiot, he just admitted his identity and now you confirmed your suspicions. You got the wrong fucking person.

You scoffed realizing your mistake, and he simply looked at you, confused. You shoved your knee in his groin, as you lifted yourself upright. He flew backward slightly at the impact, feet back on the ground as he tried regaining his composure.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? How aren't you out?" He questioned, still bent over, clutching his sensitive area. You just ignored him, standing up and tilting your head to the side, trying to figure out what you were going to do. The whole reason you couldn't knock him out was because of any tracking devices he might have had. Now knowing he was the son of a big Mafia empire, you had to be careful.

"Okay I mean no harm, I don't want to hurt. You're a trash person, but I still don't want to get into any trouble, so if you could excuse me" You raised your hands, trying to get out of the room as soon as possible. He made it quite difficult for you though, as he pulled out a gun from one of his back pockets, aiming it at you.

"Absolutely not! You're a crazy lady and you attacked me, I can't let you go" He aimed the gun right at your chest as you raised your hands above your head. You slowly started walking towards him, but he cut you off.

"Don't come any closer!" He gripped the gun harder, finger on the trigger. You examined his posture and the way he was holding a gun, for some indicator or weak spot. You looked at his fingers and then the gun. Aha!

"You leave me with no choice, I wasn't going to hurt you, but seeing as you're literally pointing a gun at me, I can't help it." You sighed, hands dropping to your waist, as you looked him dead in the eye.

"I'm gonna shoot you first, you crazy bitch." He huffed, readjusting his stance, now aiming the gun at your head.

"You see, the gun you're holding is a Kahr MK9-1, so the ejection port is visible. It isn't pushed back completely, meaning the gun is unloaded. Furthermore, the magazine release is triggered, meaning there aren't any bullets loaded either." You sighed, pressing your temples. His eyes widened as he pulled the trigger, only for a soft click to be heard. He removed the magazine, inspecting it, indeed, he forgot to load his gun.

"You're an idiot, you brought an unloaded gun, what good is that?" You scoffed, now walking towards him. You cracked your knuckles before raising an eyebrow at him. He backed up, a little scared of you now, you seemed to be well versed with guns and Mafias, you must have been a part of a gang. You were smaller than him, but we were aware that you could very well be capable of more.

"No, no, no, I'll let you go" He nervously said before gulping.

"Now what fun is that?" You said, tilting your head and snickering at him. He backed up into a corner of the room as you walked closer towards him.

"How does it feel huh?" You whispered as he looked down at you afraid for what was coming next.

"How does it feel to be backed into a corner? I bet it sucks, right? Well, that's what you've been doing to a bunch of innocent girls at the bar, so take this as a lesson before trying to pull something on anyone else next time." You sneered as he looked down at you blankly. His attitude and facial expressions were getting on your nerves so you decided to teach him a lesson.

You shoved your right arm into his jaw, with a clean uppercut. Shoving him backward as he stumbled, falling back into the wall behind him.

"Do you understand, you sick fuck?" You yelled as you grabbed the collar of his shirt. He nodded his head rapidly as he held his jaw in his hands. You just scoffed and left the room, head mildly aching from the idiot you just had to deal with.

As soon as you left the room, however, you remembered your mission. You panicked realizing you might have fucked up everything. You got the wrong person, meaning the real target was somewhere out there. You started brisk walking until you reached the main area, away from the backrooms. You fixed your hair quickly, trying to look for your target. Knowing what Jungwoon looked like, finding his brother, now shouldn't be too hard. You jogged through the crowd, looking around, scanning the place the best you could.

You looked back at the usual seating spot for your gang and realized it was practically empty. Your eyes widened as you quickly ran over to the seats there, looking for any familiar faces. You reached the area, noticing there were a few cigarette packets, vapes, and half-empty drink glasses, however no people in sight. You inspected the area, trying to look for any clues as to why and where they would have gone.

Sweat started collecting at the back of your neck, realizing this may have been your fault. It was your responsibility to occupy CJ tonight and you failed. What if he got to your gang? What if he had gotten to Seonghwa. You shakily sighed, a hand going up to your face to press your temples. You gulped dryly before thinking of a possible explanation. Your thoughts were cut short though, by a loud booming voice from behind you.

"Hands where I can see them bitch!"

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Meanwhile, Seonghwa and San were going crazy, trying to look for you. San was admittedly panicking more, while Seonghwa was mildly frustrated.

"Where is sheee?" San whined. By now he was starting to get genuinely worried. Of course, he believed you could take care of yourself, but the whole night you seemed extremely shady. You were hiding things from him and were pretending to be drunk. What if you got caught up in some dangerous schemes?

"Calm down, we'll find her, we just have to-" bang! Seonghwa started, only for him to be cut off by a loud bang. Both of them knew better, it was a gunshot. They exchanged knowing glances, before scurrying to their side of the bar. Although your safety was quite important too, it was Seonghwa's duty to make sure the rest of his gang was alright too.

With people screaming and running around, getting to where they wanted was a little harder. San roughly pushed through the crowd, while Seonghwa stayed a little more cautious, one hand clutching the gun in his back pocket.

"Move!" San roared at the passersby. His voice startled the people around, and they made way for them. San ran over to their usual corner, pulling a gun out of his pocket, firmly grasping it with both hands, holding it in front of him, remaining cautious. Meanwhile, Seonghwa, followed behind closely, running a hand through his hair, chains of his belt jingling as he paced around the area. San squinted, his gun still in front of him as he looked for the gang members. As soon as they reached their side of the club they realized what all the commotion was.

"Drop your weapon, let him go!" San yelled as he witnessed one of the members from an opposing gang hold a knife to one of the young spy's neck. He simply snickered, tightening his grip, the knife now cutting through the skin of his neck slightly as blood dripped down his neck. The young boy squirmed, only for the knife to dig deeper into his neck. He grunted, tears pooling in his eyes.

"What a fucking coward, going for the younger ones, eh?" Seonghwa growled, a dangerous yet playful tone to his voice. The growl was heard in his voice as it dropped in pitch and volume, deliberately trying to scare the man.

The man with the knife didn't budge, however, simply chuckling before, running the knife along the neck of the boy, cutting horizontally across his smooth skin. The boy cried, as his hands came up to grip the knife, only for him to feel lightheaded and nearly pass out. The rest of your gang members gasped, some even whimpering at the young boy's situation. The man with the knife looked back at your gang members as they looked helpless. They couldn't do anything, they knew if they did, he would cut the boy's neck cleanly in half. He looked back and deeply chuckled before refocussing his attention on the two men in front of him.

As he looked ahead though, he realized they were nowhere in sight. He looked around only to be greeted by a cold hard piece of metal pressing against the side of his head.

"I said let go" Seonghwa grumbled lowly, his voice deathly commanding and serious. The man gulped, looking at the gun pointed at his head, through the corner of his eyes. Before Seonghwa could fire his shot, however, a strong pungent smell spread across the room, he furrowed his eyebrows as he heard coughs and whimpers.

"Not so fast, Park" He heard someone snicker. He noticed how San, who was standing right in front of him, began to stumble, gripping onto a chair next to him. It must have been poison or some sort of toxic gas. Seonghwa felt the room spinning, his vision getting blurry as he looked around at his gang members coughing and clutching their stomachs.

"Cover your mouths and noses" He tried to warn them, only for it to come out as a bare whisper. He looked around, most of the members now passing out. He saw San, clutching his stomach, before looking up at him. His eyes fluttered as they got droopier. San simply grunted in pain before mumbling a soft 'sorry' and passing out, his head falling straight to the floor. Seonghwa felt helpless, he tried resisting it, but everything in his body burned. His throat burned and his ears rang.

He clutched his ears, a loud ringing noise making its way to his ears, overwhelming his senses. He let out a gasp, feeling breathless as his trachea burned. His eyes soon fluttered shut as he tried gripping onto the last strings of hope, before succumbing to the poison and passing out...

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"Hands where I can see them bitch!" A loud noise made its way to your ears. You slowly raised your hands as you slowly turned around. Behind you was probably your worst nightmare. Most of your gang members had passed out cold, behind the man. Some of them even tied up to chairs. San, Seonghwa, Ashe, and a young boy were tied to chairs, while the rest were still on the ground. You looked up at the man in shock, your eyebrows furrowing as your tried to process the situation. His face resembled Jungwoon's so there was only one logical explanation, this was his brother, CJ, the man you were after all along.

"Is this some sort of sick game to you?" You dared to question, walking closer to the man. He simply chuckled at you, firing the gun in your direction. It didn't seem as if he tried to kill you, although he aimed for the top of your shoulder, the bullet grazing your acromion. You screamed in pain, crouching down, your hand instantly flying to your shoulder. Albeit a mere flesh wound, it managed to dig quite deep, leaving a deep open would. Blood gushed through the wound as you pressed harder, trying to stop the blood flow.

"Well, it could be if you wanted it to be" He claimed, laughing at your situation. You looked up at him from the floor, shooting daggers with your eyes. He chuckled as one of his members passed him a water bottle. He snickered, before opening it, taking a sip, and clearing his throat. You furrowed your eyebrows, how was he so relaxed, the fate of an entire mafia gang was in his hands.

He chucked half the bottle into Seonghwa's face, and then another quarter into San's. He threw the bottle into some distant corner and yanked at Ashe's hair. Meanwhile, Seonghwa gasped, regaining consciousness, which must have only been a temporary toxin. His hair was wet, water dripping down his bangs, as they fell over his face. He glared daggers at the guy, before trying to get up, only for him to realize he was tied up. He struggled in the ropes, the rough edges, digging into his silky smooth skin.

San had also regained consciousness, gasping as coughed and choked. He blinked realizing the situation he was in. He looked around, noticing Seonghwa, and Ashe, and the other younger boy, as well as the rest of his gang members, and then finally you. His eyes widened as he struggled to try to free himself.

"Y/n?! You're okay?!" He questioned, sighing in relief as he finally found you. His relief was only short-lived, however, as he noticed you clutching your shoulder. He noticed the dark red stains on your hand and neck, a pool of blood on the floor, dripping from your shoulder down to your elbow and onto the floor.

"What did he- What did you- YOU BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HER, LET HER GO!?" He yelled, tugging on his ropes. He didn't care about himself at the moment, only what happened to you. You noticed how he started pulling harder, the ropes now digging into his skin as he tried pulling out. His wrists were bruised as the soft skin of his arms cut due to the rough edges of the rope. Blood trickled down his arms as his arms got raw from the pulling and tugging of the rope.

"San-ah, don't resist, I'm fine" Your voice wavered, as you tried regaining composure. Seonghwa's eyes softened as he noticed the sheen of your eyes, tears collecting. He sighed, looking down, unable to look at your current state, you must have been in so much pain, both physically and emotionally.

"I-" You started, only for your voice to break, a strangled sob escaping. Seonghwa's head whipped up as he noticed how you squeezed your eyes shut, tears now falling down your cheeks. You bit down your lip, as your shoulders shook. Your head faced the ground but it was clear you were crying. Whimpers and sniffs echoed as members of the opposing gang simply laughed.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up, but he had to stay calm. Seeing you break down like this in front of everyone, evoked a feeling of fury and seething rage. He simply looked away, unable to take in the sight of you being so vulnerable. You had always been one of the toughest ones in the gang.

"Now, now, no need to cry honey" You heard CJ whisper. He roughly yanked Ashe's hair once more and you winced at the way her neck snapped to the side. She got up with a sharp inhale, and a loud groan as she tried to understand the situation. CJ walked closer to you, his hand gripping your chin, tilting it up towards him. Seonghwa grunted as he tried tugging harder at the ropes.

"Don't touch her, you son of a bitch" Seonghwa finally growled. His eyes glaring daggers at CJ. This was the first time you heard him speak tonight and it was a tone you weren't too pleased to hear. His voice had a slight rasp to it, voice lower than the deepest trench of the ocean. Water dripped down his face and neck, making the side of his face shine in the light. His dampened clothes clung to his body as his eyes glared through his bangs.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't have too much fun. Now, if you could please get up for me, my darling I have an important mission for you" He maniacally giggled. You mustered all the energy you had and pushed yourself onto your feet, one hand still clutching your shoulder. He handed you his gun and your eyebrows furrowed. He stepped back and you instantly took the chance to point the gun at him. Your breath quickened as you tried to calculate his next move, what on earth was he up to.

"ah-ah darling, it's not me you'' be shooting. It's one of them" He pointed behind him to your four other gang members tied up in chairs. Ashe gasped as she let out a strangled sob, San gasping as well, as Seonghwa simply sighed, taking in your expression. You looked blankly back at him as you readjusted the grip on your gun with your wounded arm.

You shifted your gaze behind him, only to notice, four other men, standing behind the chairs, a gun pointing to each of their heads. "Shoot anyone else, and a bullet goes through all their skulls... that wouldn't be a pretty sight, would it?" He claimed, laughing at his own crazy scheme. By now Ashe was crying hysterically and you couldn't help but feel emotional too. You tried looking away, knowing the second you would look into any of their eyes, you'd break down. You roughly wiped at your nose, nodding, agreeing to his terms.

"I love a game of Russian roulette." You sniffed, chuckling sarcastically.

"May I spin the barrel?" You asked innocently and CJ simply chuckled loudly.

"I knew you had it in you!" He laughed, roughly patting your back. You rolled your eyes before inspecting the gun a bit. You opened the barrel, realizing there was only one bullet, he must have known when the first bullet would go off. You internally smiled realizing you had cracked the code.

You locked the barrel in place, before spinning it, the bullet clanking across the cylinder. Your arms shivered slightly as you raised the gun. Bingo! You were never one to be afraid when it came to guns. The shivering was an act. An act to shake the gun a little to hear where the bullet was clanking. You heard the clanking on the bottom of the barrel, realizing the bullet was going to fire on the 5-6 shot. Realizing it had already gone off once when CJ shot you, it was only logical that the bullet was in the 5th chamber.

You smiled before aiming the gun at San first. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized you were proceeding with this absurd plan. The moment he saw you smile, however, he knew you had everything under control. Besides, he trusted you. You winked at him, before placing your finger over the trigger.

"Just to clarify, If I shoot all of them once, you leave us alone? Whether one of them gets shot or not?" You spoke up, glancing from the corner of your eye.

"That is correct. Now, take your shot lady." You smiled back at him, before pulling the trigger while the gun was aimed at San. He flinched slightly at the noise but quickly covered up as a laugh erupted from him.

"This one got lucky... try the next one" CJ urged you. You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the unconscious boy. He looked young, maybe 16 or 17, and his neck was slashed, blood oozing from it at a slow rate. You quickly looked away and pulled the trigger. Despite knowing it wouldn't go off, you still had to act as if you were scared. Ashe yelped from next to the boy at the loud noise and Seonghwa sighed in relief.

"Well, well, well, I guess they both got lucky... How about your best friend now, you both seemed to be getting it on the dance floor no? It would be a shame for this epic love story to end so tragically." Ashe blushed a deep red as San chuckled from the side laughing quietly. You huffed in annoyance before pointing the gun at her. Her eyes filled with tears as she tried to speak.

"Y/n, if this gun goes off right now, just know that I forgive you, it's not your fault, no matter what-"

"Shut up Ashe" You yelled. The last thing you needed was a sad emotional goodbye, as you knew the second you saw her cry, you would too.

"No! Listen to me, never for a second think that you're responsible for any of this. I love you a lot, and I'm still mad at what you did back then, but it-" bang! Ashe squealed as the next gunshot went off. CJ's jaw dropped, another one was left unscathed. You winced slightly as she flinched. You didn't mean to be rude, but she was getting a little too sappy and you already felt terrible.

"You've been lucky so far, but it's a 1 in 2 chance now. Chances are, the legendary Mafia boss, Seonghwa Park will die, right here, tonight. Not just that, but to the hands of one of his most loyal members." He chuckled maniacally and you pointed the gun at Seonghwa. He gulped as he noticed your finger on the trigger, awfully close to pulling it. You looked straight into his eyes and could sense the fear in them. He gulped, eyes shifting around the room as his foot bounced impatiently.

You sighed, mouthing a "trust me" subtly, and smiling at him. His eyes widened as he realized you had planned this all along. You knew exactly when the bullet was going to go off. He should have known, besides you were the second-best with guns in the entire gang, of course, you would know. His eyes softened, as the corners of his lips tugged upwards.

You returned the smile and readjusted your stance. Meanwhile, CJ on the side had no clue what was coming. He believed with this next shot, the mafia boss of the Park gang would be dead, already coming up with plans to take over the empire.

You pulled the trigger and Seonghwa didn't even flinch. He simply chuckled deeply, before tilting his head back... that's how much he trusted you at that moment. CJ's jaw dropped. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go.

"ONE MORE!" CJ yelled at you as you flinched at the sudden loud voice. Seonghwa's eyes furrowed as he heard him. Your eyes widened as you processed the situation.

"I said one more! Take one more shot, or I'll drive a bullet through Park's head. I don't care who you shoot, but one of you is not going to leave alive today, and I will make sure of it." CJ grumbled, another one of his members passing him a gun. He pointed the gun at Seonghwa's head shoving it into his forehead. Seonghwa inhaled sharply before looking back at you, worried. It was obvious to everyone now that whoever you shot was going to die now. The last chamber had the bullet, so it would fire.

"Why do you care so much about someone dying today!" San yelled from the side.

"You took away one of my young hackers. You shot him right in the back. He's paralyzed now! FUCKING BASTARD SAN! I don't take such matters lightly, and for ruining his life, one of you is now going to pay with yours! I don't care who it is, one of you is going to die!" CJ yelled, gripping San's collar. He gulped realizing CJ found out about one of his missing hackers. Truth was, San helped him fake his paralysis to get him out of that vicious gang. He was now working for you, but CJ could never know that, or he'd go after the young boy.

"So it doesn't matter who I shoot?" You clarified, your voice shaking slightly to sell the act. CJ grinned from ear to ear, looking back and nodding smugly. Seonghwa looked at you with concern as he knew you were up to something. His eyes furrowed as you lifted the gun.

"What about this?" You asked, now pointing the gun directly at your chest. San gasped from the side, Ashe yelling at you to stop, while Seonghwa's eyes widened.

"I supposed that is acceptable too. Now get on with it!" He yelled as both the gangs waited for your next move. You took in a deep breath of air before pulling the trigger of the gun. You gasped at the impact, and fell to the ground, clutching your chest.

The next few seconds were a bit of a blur. Not from the actual shot itself, but the commotion around you. You heard the footsteps of the opposing gang members as they scurried out the club. You heard a bunch of cries and whimpers from presumably San and Ashe.

Your back made contact with the floor with a loud thud, as you winced from the pain. Seonghwa immediately felt a surge of urgency, as he tried breaking free from the ropes. He yanked as hard as he could, cutting through his wrists slightly, as the ropes snapped. His wrists were bloody and his arms were bruised all the way p, but he couldn't care less.

He roughly yanked at San's ropes, loosening them a bit, just enough for San to free himself. His breath quickened and his eyes widened as he approached you. He rushed over, immediately crouching down to your level. He sat down on his knees, desperately trying to hold you up. He shifted next to you and brought your head to rest on his lap. Your eyes fluttered shut, as his big arms cradled your face, holding your cheeks in each hand. His cut wrists, left a trail of blood, on the exterior of your face, your hair clinging to your face from the damp blood and sweat.

"No, no, no, you're strong Y/n, you're going to survive this" He whispered to you, his breath caressing your face as his shallow breaths continued. He must have really freaked out. He began lightly, tapping your face, shaking your head in his hands slightly. He, brushed your hair away from your face as his fingers rested on your temple. You heard him let out a whimper, as you felt a warm droplet fall onto your cheek. Wait... was he crying? It couldn't have been... The legendary Park Seonghwa crying over one of his members dying. What a sight. He shifted slightly, moving one of the hands that were cradling you to press at your chest. His large palm, pressed softly at your chest, rubbing against the bottom of your left breast. That's where you drew the line.

"Uh-uh, hands off me" You claimed, pushing past Seonghwa, trying to get up. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes widened. You promptly stood up, as he remained seated on the floor, not understanding the situation. You walked over to the younger boy, untying him too, before grabbing a tissue, pushing at the large wound in his neck. You looked around, trying to find someone to help you, and looked at San. His eyes were wide as he was frozen in place.

"Stop staring and come help me, you ass!" You yelled, ushering to come over. He quickly rushed over, before cupping your cheeks.

"I thought you were going to die..." His voice broke, as you scoffed.

"Come on now, I wouldn't leave you that easilyyy" You whined before guiding his hand to the boy's neck.

"Hold it in place, we need to get him medical attention quickly, or he might bleed out." You passed him the tissues, before walking to untie Ashe. As soon as her wrists and arms were untied she pounced on you. She engulfed you in a hug, sobbing into your shoulder.

"You dumb bitch" She cried into your shoulder, as you patted her head, cradling her face. She pulled away and you looked down feeling guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry" You whispered out, only for her to scoff, before pulling you into another bone-crushing hug. You winced in pain, as your shoulder was hurting quite a bit. You simply resorted to rubbing her back for now. Your little moment was broken by a small cough heard from the ground. You looked down, only to notice, Seonghwa was still sitting on the floor, eyes wide, as he tried processing what was happening.

"Mr. Park... You're uh, still on the floor..." He looked right into your eyes, his eyes narrowing as he pushed himself up to his feet, walking towards you. He looked down at you as you tilted your head up, making direct eye contact.

"Firstly, I am touched and flattered that you cried for me, who would have thought..." You said, more to yourself, as Seonghwa brought his hands to his face, touching under his eyes. He realized his cheeks were wet with tears, as he roughly rubbed at them, sniffing and scrunching his nose.

"Secondly, that was inappropriate, dude! You can't just go around groping women you know?" You yelled as his eyes widened. You pointed back at your chest, indicating where he had tried pressing before. You knew he was trying to prevent, possible bleeding, but you couldn't help but tease him a little. He refocussed his attention to your chest, staring at the hole in your dress.

"Eyes up here buddy" You caught his attention. He scoffed, before bringing you into a hug. Engulfing your smaller body in his larger build.

"Ow! my shoulder, be careful, Park!" You scowled as he pulled back.

"Y/n what the fuck? You're supposed to be dead" He finally said, before bringing his hands, to your shoulder, to inspect the wound.

"Actually no" You pulled back, pulling the neckline of your dress down. His eyes widened as a blush grew on Seonghwa's cheeks. You flipped the top of your black lace bra outwards showing a navy blue thicker lining underneath.

"Bulletproof lining, I managed to push it up from my stomach to my chest when I uh, broke down" Seonghwa sighed, pressing his temples.

"You weren't crying?" He asked, a hand cupping your cheek as he spoke.

"Well no, it was a distraction, to bend over and push up the lining to my chest. The tears from before as well, they were fake too, sorry San, I had to sell my act..." You mumbled but San still heard. He scoffed as he walked towards you.

"I figured as much" He smiled back at you.

Seonghwa tightened his grip on your jaw as he realized something. You gasped as you tried pulling away.

"You knew what was going to happen? Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" He said a little louder. You didn't budge, knowing what you did was right.

"Because! If I were to tell you, you would have brought around 20 other bodyguards accompanying us. Besides this wasn't even the original plan... I was supposed to sleep with CJ, distract him for the night so he couldn't carry out his plan. Turns out I got caught up with his brother and had to... deal with him first." Seonghwa loosened his grip on your jaw before sighing, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

"Regardless, I'm proud of you, you know? You outsmarted them all and saved our lives. I owe you thanks." He said before stepping back. You felt dampness on the side of your head. Realizing it was blood, you grabbed his forearm, before inspecting his cuts and bruised wrists.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" You scoffed, before, walking over to get him a tissue to wipe the dried blood for now.

"For you, Y/n... I thought you were dying..." He sighed as gripped onto the base of your dress.

"So what? It's a part of the job. I knew what I was signing up for. I very well knew that death was a possible risk. Besides, why care about me so much? I'm rather expendable actually." You said matter-of-factly.

"No, you're not. Never feel like that. You mean a lot to the gang, a lot to me. Even though we don't interact often. I know how much you do for the gang, how much work you put in for everyone." He said, looking at you sincerely. You smiled back at him softly, booping his nose, turning on your heel.

"Let's get cleaned up shall we?"

[tartrazeen]

Hmmmm. 🤔 You're right - that's a bit deeper!

Well, in that case, it sounds like it does bother you, so I'll make sure I don't come across as saying, "Just don't let it bother you!"

Maybe it would help to figure why you don't know. Like I said, sometimes we're locked out of understanding something. But there's a difference between, "Oh, yeah, I can see why I'm not 'getting' this" and "Why does everyone seem to get this but me?"

If that would help, here are three starting points you might want to try considering!

1. It's a very lived experience.

By that I mean, you have to be in the right demographic at the right time and be caught up on all the right experiences and pop culture and knowledge around you, and this media has to be something you experience within that exact set of factors.

At one end of the scale, this could be something as simple as a Minion Meme (to be a little cheeky). Yeah, we can understand what the Minion Memes are literally saying, and we understand the joke, but it's like... not funny? But for some reason, there's a whole group of people losing their minds over how funny they are, and we don't know why.

Well, maybe that's because we don't know how this group of people ordinarily intercts with each other, how they relate to each other, what kind of jokes and sense of humour they already have, and how sincere or ironic the attachment to Minion Memes really is. Maybe they have kids, and that was a factor. Maybe they don't have kids or theirs grew up. Maybe they're just delighting in the ability to create a recognizable meme, and that's what's so thrilling about it. But even if we get answers to those questions, we're probably still going to be like, "... Okay. Cool. I get it, but I don't get it."

Think of how society collectively brushes things off that teen girls like as 'dumb girl stuff'. There might be so many rich reasons for why so many girls flock to a particular artist, but it's got to do with how their place in society, maturity, emotions, socialized values, access to entertainment, impact of their friends, how they're all together in a school and sharing ideas... We don't 'get' it because we're not in that circumstance, but maybe we did get it for something else "when we were their age" or something.

In that case, the best you can sometimes do is - like... appreciate that they appreciate it, even if it hasn't captured you in the same way.

From what you described, I'm not very sure this is what you're dealing with for that particular book you mentioned, but don't say no to it completely! It's still possible!

2. It could be purposely misleading.

Like maybe something isn't actually popular or significant, but someone has a lot at stake to make it seem popular. Money? Fame? Forced promotion of an industry plant? Maybe potentially political agendas to emphasize certain values in some content over others? And not always in a bad way either - maybe someone's trying to actively curate a certain experience that you haven't been exposed to before. In that case, it's not that (or not 'just' that) you don't this particular book; you don't get the whole thing, so of course you also can't understand why this book's been singled out beyond that.

This one might actually be fixable! :D It might just mean broader research into the type of media it is, or potentially the motivations of whoever's promoting as being so important. From there, you might start to see the intent becoming the true, deeper layer of meaning involved. It could recontextualize things for you, or maybe move it into a more meta appreciation: maybe the book isn't very good, but the effort or circumstances to create the book make it an enduring triumph. It's possible!

3. You could just actually be missing something!

And it could actually be something that's really buried in there! Even better/worse, it could be a meaning put onto that media - so reading it by itself won't explain the hype. There's a whole fanon (for lack of a better term) you'd need to find that might explain it, or might purposely trash the whole canon to create the most divorced AU possible - and that's the thing that makes it significant.

This would beeeee... 50/50 on fixing it, if you right this kind of situation. Maybe you actually find the separate theory that makes it all worthwhile after all! Or maybe you never do, or it takes too much work to get into. But here, you probably have the most freedom to say, "You know what? I don't get it. And at this point, I don't even care, because whatever the reason is got so buried somewhere that I'm never gonna have the time to dig it out."

Best-case scenario: you run into someone who turns it into #1 for you. They love it, they explain why, and even if you still don't get, you're finally aware of what you're missing. And then you go back to what you said about being aware of what you're missing and how you could fill in the blanks if-only-you-had-this-specific-lived-experience-oh-well.

😅 It's tricky! I'm in your shoes all the time - why is this thing so beloved when it's so... boring? Or bad? Or bland? Everyone seems to put it on their Top 100 Books To Read, but I can't get my head around why it's this book and not some other one. It's like they all threw darts and this is the book that happened to get hit!

(also i really hope i didn't come across as patronizing at all - i'm genuinely trying to be helpful and see if i can help you with what normally helps me) 💖

How do you improve in picking up on the correct meaning of scenes in movies/fiction/real life? Like sometimes it's easy, and when it's easy I feel like it is quite obvious if you just think about it for a moment, but the others times when I don't get something I'm just becoming aware of just how unaware I am with no understanding of how can I even improve. It's like being a kid again surrounded by foreign language that you can barely speak, constantly feeling like you're missing relevant context even if you understand the words. Just chronically at loss at what to think cause chances are high that I miss some crucial piece of information that turns everything up. In fiction it may be because sometimes I miss the historical or an overall context, but god is this frustrating when it happens. And it gets even more frustrating when I see no one else expressing this confusion, as if it's an easy and obvious task for anyone but me for some reason. The most frustrating part is getting this feeling when I can't even name what is it I'm missing, I just know that I do miss something. And I can get the story overall, but there's always just this nagging frustration, that feeling that I don't understand it fully, miss something important, something obvious, some relevant context the existence of which is in my blind spot.