#And I have no idea if these are in order this is a post from a draft lol

[nymphea0]

Kurkans Mate.

Beast and his mate.

Yan! Ishakan x Reader

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Halloo is neva again, is beens longs i had no post any story TvT... well i had some busy stuff to do, so hope you all forgive me.

And this first my series Manhwa chara, soons will be much chara came out, so stay alwalys love🦋🦋.

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

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Fire, blood and corpses'

is a view from a small village in the far west which has unspoiled natural beauty.

However, all of that was damaged when an invasion from a foreign continental kingdom came into conflict with another kingdom, resulting in several villages being affected by the conflict.

Day and night only the sound of screams, sadness, wrath, and much more, the beautiful village has become a sea of ​​blood of innocent people.

Village of a thousand nights, a village for nature people which has a million cultures and also unbeatable beauty. village for the Antrabeth race.

Hair is blue as bright as the sky, the brighter and smoother the hair, the higher the inner bond with nature.

They are a closed people, living in a mountainous environment covered by forests and sunlight. However, their blood is their curse, the anthrabeth race is famous for their blood which can cure all diseases for those who drink the blood and also the blood of those who seek a long, eternal life.

The Antrabeth race is the enemy of the witch and the kurkans, the witch really like experimenting and some stuff unormalize thing and the kurkans believe that marrying an antrabeth race will produce invincible offspring.

However, the world thinks that the Antrabeth Tribe is just a myth, because their existence cannot be proven.

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The stomping of feet and gasping for breath were silent witnesses in the night.

You, running with your aunt, managed to survive the post-war tragedy between the neighboring kingdom and the kingdom where you live.

The war between these two kingdoms caused damage to small villages, one of which was Antra village, a village for the Antrabeth tribe.

You and your aunt Reane are running from the pursuit of knights from an enemy kingdom who are ordered to kill women and kill men for blood.

Entering the border of the dense forest, your aunt stopped running, you who were running beside her also stopped, your breath was short, with the throbbing of blood flowing very quickly.

Your aunt could only stare at you sadly as you pressed your foreheads together.

"Run, nephew, don't let them catch you!" Your aunt's voice shook violently, ordering you to run as if this was a goodbye.

"What do you mean aunt?! We'll be safe, okay?" Enough lives have been lost tonight! I don't want to lose you too auntie!!." With a voice shaking with sadness you rejected your aunt's idea as if asking you to run.

"Don't be stupid!, they won't stop chasing us until one of us died. Listen nephew, the antrabeth tribe, our family is on the verge of extinction because of our blood, you have to run, save yourself."

"But auntie?! I can't!" you could only cry as your aunt pushed you hard.

"Run, don't let they catch you!" That was the last sound of your aunt running against the current, the voices of the enemy kingdom's knights shouting with a joyful hum as if they had caught a good catch.

You could only stare at the light of the torches and the sound of the horses' stampedes that were getting louder and louder. disappear. Your aunt, has been captured by the enemy knights.

Certainly, once they get your aunt's blood, your aunt will be killed just like that.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you can only run forward, entering the forest deeper, the dark forest with the sound of animal sounds and moonlight are the only things that accompany your sad night.

Running with all your might you can only feel deep sadness, your mother and father were killed cruelly when your father and mother tried to save you, the inhabitants of the antrabeth tribe, the men were killed very cruelly, the women women and children were also killed old and young.

They only seek 1 thing, blood, the blood of the antrabeth tribe against the laws of nature, blood that can give long life like eternity and can cure all kinds of diseases.

Your blue hair is tangled, many leaves and twigs that's caught in your hair, the sweat that sticks to your forehead, the roar of your heart beating so fast that it adds to your running adrenaline.

Until your body is at the very high threshold because of tiredness from running and pushing yourself too hard, you stumble and fall, you faint on the mossy ground lit by the moon and surrounded by trees.

A thin mist covers your figure lying pitifully, as if nature is afraid if there is who tries to hurt you again.

Just when your eyes are almost completely closed, you see the silhouette of an old woman looking at you sympathetically. Until total darkness envelopes you.

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A young woman with her hands and feet covered in bandages to heal abrasions, lay weakly and helplessly on an old mattress that had not been used for a long time.

An old woman slowly wiped the dirt that covered the body of the young woman who was lying weakly.

In a soft voice the woman said

"What in seven hells did this poor girl actually experience?"

After cleaning the young woman, the old woman put on a long, soft nightgown.

Carrying a tray carrying a small bucket of murky water and a dirty towel.

Walking slowly, closing the bedroom door gently, leaving the young woman to rest.

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The sound of birds chirping melodiously decorated the beautiful morning in the middle of the dense forest.

Rays of light entered the slightly open window and illuminated a woman resting peacefully on the bed.

Frowning slowly, you opened your eyes slowly but surely, blinking to adjust your vision.

You see a room with minimalist furniture and decoration, with a very pungent smell of dust entering your respiratory tract.

Slowly waking up you look around, wondering who saved your life.

Then you slowly pull aside the blanket that covers your body, staring in shock, your hands and feet are covered with bandages that have a strong herbal aroma.

When you are about to get out of bed and try to stand up you fall onto the wooden floor, making a fairly loud sound.

'Dug'

'Dug'

'Dug'

The sound of quite heavy footsteps can be heard outside this room.

You who fell could only look towards the closed wooden door, until the door opened, indicating that someone had opened it.

There you see an elderly woman, her hair has white strands, skin that is no longer young, with a slightly hunched body.

"Why are you getting out of bed?!, you are not fully recovered!"

Walking slowly, the woman helps you to sit on the bed.

With a still weak voice, you asked the woman.

"Are ... you the one who saved me?"

The woman just nodded her head.

"My name is Esmera" the woman introduced herself as Esmera.

You also introduced yourself to her.

"You're from the Antrabeth tribe, right?" Emsera asked while gently stroking your bright blue hair.

You looked at her warily, thinking that Esmera might have saved you with another intention.

"Don't worry, I don't need your blood, this is just the first time for me to see the Antrabeth tribe directly."

Esmera, the old woman just chuckled softly seeing your confused face, while sitting slowly beside you she said.

"The Antrabeth tribe, everyone on the entire continent thinks that you are just a myth."

You could only stare in confusion, if the Antrabeth tribe is just a myth, why does the enemy kingdom know the existence of the Antra village?

You think, for the first time you finally realize one thing... the antrabeth tribe is a tribe that is close to nature, a village of a thousand nights, a village covered in thick fog and located in a dense forest, how could the enemy kingdom find the village where you live.

Many questions crossed your mind.

"I don't know what happened to you, , but from what I know, your presence can endanger you.".

You who were confused asked Esmera why that was.

The old woman just sighed while looking at you she said.

"Your tribe has not appeared on several common continents for more than 100 years, just your appearance is enough to shake the world."

You could only be silent hearing Esmera's words.

Then when you were about to speak, Esmera cut you off first.

"You are even more unsafe once you meet the Kurkans."

You who have been living in the depths of the forest just stared confusedly and chanted the name of the Kurkan tribe, asking Esmera what Kurkan is.

"Kurkans, are a tribe that has an extraordinary appearance and physical strength and is very strong, they are more often known as barbarians."

"In short, Kurkans will make you a partner if they find you, they are famous for kidnapping partners they choose through their animal blood instincts"

"The Kurkans consider partners important, and if they have acknowledged them as their partners, they will kidnap the person they consider to be their partner, forced or not, they will not let go of the partner they choose easily".

You just stared at Esmera who was busy checking the wounds on your hands and feet.

You then told me about what you experienced, the war, and the massacre.

Esmera looked at you sadly, the woman did not expect the tribe that was thought to be a myth to disappear overnight.

"Of course .... maybe you are the only one left"

Patting your shoulder, Esnera said.

"Let's change your hair and eyes first, because your hair and eyes are the most striking."

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That afternoon you passed by trying to walk slowly.

Esmera is a witch, you as an antrabeth tribe know from the elders to stay away from witches, especially dark witches. At first you were quite afraid of Esmera, but Esmera assured you that she had retired, because Esmera is a natural witch, a witch who guards this forest, the same forest where you fell, the same forest where you will live with Esmera.

Witches have many types, but the most famous are dark witches, because they like to hang their victims from trees, create blood rain, during the blood moon and legal witches usually have the ability to hypnotize their victims and do what they want.

And Esmera is a natural witch, a witch who is usually tasked with guarding a forest or natural environment, and they are witches with a retirement age, when they are 40 years old, they are required to retire, in short like that.

But you remain vigilant, because you have only just met Esmera not long ago.

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It's been 3 months since the incident you experienced before, now you live with Esmera, the woman is willing to take you in, because Esmera also said that sometimes she lives lonely, even though there are forest animals that accompany her.

Your hair and eyes have been changed by Esmera with a potion of drops, just 1 drop is enough.

Your bright blue hair and galaxy-colored eyes have changed to black and brown.

At first you were not used to it, but the effect of this potion only works for 5 hours, Esmera said to use this potion in certain conditions, such as going to the market or when you are being chased by something that could harm you.

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In the afternoon, as usual, you explore the forest with 1 white ferret and a wild deer. Of course you are in disguise, even though this forest is protected by Esmera's magic, you still have to be careful.

Walking enjoying the forest with your two friends on the path you usually take, only to find a man covered in a robe holding his injured stomach.

You who can't see injured people unconsciously approach the man,

"Hello?" you were surprised almost tripping when the man's face appeared in front of you, a handsome face, very exotic brown skin, and... his eyes that had a sharp structure that was bright gold shining.

You have never seen someone with such bright and beautiful eye color, unfortunately you are not aware that your eyes are also very bright and beautiful.

This is the first time you have interacted with someone other than Esmera and the Antrabeth Tribe, and you also don't know who this man is? And from what tribe. That doesn't matter, what's important now is to heal this man and ask him to leave here immediately.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" A harsh and mocking tone.

You don't like this man, okay face, very bad character. But you have the instinct to help others, obviously you won't let this man go just like that.

"I'll help you, in return please get out of here quickly."

The man just looked at you with a suspicious look, but he wasn't as rude as before.

You realized that Esmera would be here soon, and this man might die, because Esmera has a rule that men are destroyers, and they are not allowed to enter this forest.

You think of a quick way, 1 drop of your blood is enough to heal this man's wounds.

"Can you open your mouth?" Asking in a soft and friendly tone. You were only answered with a rough and arrogant voice again, seriously you are now thinking why is this man so arrogant and rude?.

"Why should I open my mouth?! My wound is in my stomach, not in my mouth!".

You dislike this man more and more, you know he suspects you but being rude is also not right and you also realize the two animals that come with you are moving more restlessly.

With one needle prick, you forcefully direct your index finger into the man's mouth, making him inevitably taste 1 drop of your blood.

The man, of course, was surprised and wanted to push you, but he stopped moving when he tasted your blood, blood usually smells like iron and has an unpleasant taste, but your blood, as sweet as nectar, has no iron smell at all.

You wipe your fingers on the man's robe, because there is his saliva left behind.

Then you stand up and say.

"Go immediately, don't ever come back"

Ride the wild deer and ferret that have stayed on your shoulder, you leave the golden-eyed man.

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The man just stares at you with a look that is difficult to interpret, then he lifts his shirt a little and sees, the stab wound in his stomach, slowly heals and leaves no scar at all, the man who feeling tired before, became fit and full of energy.

The man slowly stood up out of the forest, his mind still processing who are you?, how can blood heal a very deep and poisonous stab wound?. There were many questions in the man's mind.

The man walked and a few moments later, 2 other men came to the man's side bowing slightly.

"Your Highness, we have been looking for you, it is a relief to see you are okay" the man with a scar on his face spoke, with exotic skin too.

Then followed by a man who had blue eyes with exotic tan skin.

"The rebellion has succeeded your Highness, now all the Kurkans are waiting for you, Your Highness Ishakan".

The man... The King of the Kurkans, the new king of the Kurkans tribe, a tribe with animal blood, a tribe that has extraordinary physical abilities and looks, the King of the Kurkans tribe.

Combing his hair slowly, Ishakan only answered briefly to his two aides, Genin the man with a wound on his face, and Haban the man with blue eyes just stared at Ishakan in confusion.

Then Ishakan said.

"Have you two... ever heard of a case where blood can heal wounds in an instant?"

Haban and Genin just looked at each other. Genin as Ishakan's aide and right hand answered.

"I don't think there is any case like that and it sounds very unreal, your Highness".

Ishakan grinned and said.

"Too bad I just experienced it." Ishakan looked back into the dark forest covered in fog.

"I found something very interesting, a very interesting rabbit."

chuckling while grinning, Ishakan walked away followed by his two aides who just stared confusedly at the forest behind them and walked away, towards their kingdom, the large oasis at the western end of the continent.

Ishakan had found a figure that made his instincts scream ripples, the instinct to claim something that was rightfully his, his mate.

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*source Images : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Series.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

Special Story for my Love; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut

Tag list; @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger

[lychee-angelica]

random vedic astrology observations

i thought i may as well post some content that has been sitting in my drafts for over a year xx

౨ৎ libra ascendant 18+

these women are obviously very beautiful, but they are also highly alluring and mysterious. this can be attributed to venus ruling both their first house and eighth house. it is honestly difficult to ignore that these women are seductive and passionate individuals. i have personally observed that these women are highly attractive and naturally possess an evidently strong sexual appeal.

the above can also apply to women with first house lord in the eighth house or eighth house lord in the first house

౨ৎ venus in leo

within my time observing charts of various individuals and celebrities i have found an absurd amount of models with venus in leo. in all honesty this does not surprise me, considering leo is ruled by sun, the most visible, important and prominent celestial body. these women possess a beauty that was almost made for shining above the rest, their beauty is so apparent in the eyes of others. i often think of venus in leo women as embodying the beauty queen archetype.

౨ৎ aquarius ascendant

the identity of these women is heavily tied to something deeply intangible, given that saturn rules both their first and twelfth house. saturn's repressive nature propels these women far from egocentric ideals and toward the undoing of self. that being said, these women can seem very disconnected and even out of touch with reality.

౨ৎ mrigasira

these women can be naturally doe-eyed and have a sweet, bambi appearance. this is due to mrigasira symbolising a deer sniffing the ground, a specific yet beautiful depiction of the deer's face. honestly, even the men have large doe eyes. additionally, i often notice many of these women wear their hair in braids and look beautiful with their hair in this inherently protective style. i say this because the idea of braiding and weaving is deeply rooted in the symbolic nature of mrigasira. deers experience pressure to weave themselves into the heard in order to mitigate the threat of predation.

౨ৎ pisces ascendant

these women are naturally possess a loving curiosity on deeply occult and esoteric knowledge. this is due to venus ruling both their third and eighth house. acknowledging that this aspect of their chart is due to venus, their interest and fascination in mysterious information is something that naturally attracts them, painted with a tinge of romanticism and deep love.

౨ৎ rahu conjunct venus

honestly, women with this placement can get so lost in a world of beauty, indulgence, love and romantic relationships. they most likely have great karma in life that propels them toward learning all of the struggles that come with beauty and love. although how negative this seems, they are undeniably attractive and intensely magnetic women.

౨ৎ saturn conjunct venus

these women are the types who are able to truly let go of unrealistic expectations in love. they are able to love truly, through thick and thin, this placement tends to indicate a devotional and long term orientated lover. another note is that these women can struggle immensely with insecurity in relation to their beauty, it can be very helpful for them to remain devoted to their own beauty. despite the struggle this placement indicates over time their security with their beauty solidities and firms.

౨ৎ ardra, ashlesha, jyeshta and mula

these nakshatras are all considered to embody sharp or dreadful quality. despite the intense struggle these women face, there is a beautiful upside. they are incredibly hypnotising, mystical and deep women.

౨ৎ visakha nakshatra

these women can be have a very intensely ambitious and obsessive streak. particularly when a woman's venus, mars or seventh house lord sits within this nakshatra, they can be highly obsessive and fixated over their partners. despite how intense these women may love, they are very loyal and devoted

[xlovellydreams]

Reuniting 2

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Summary: Reuniting with Rhysand after Under the Mountain

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Words Count: 6.1k

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ PART 1

Note: Hi guys! Let me say – Thank you so so so so much! I did not expect so much love under my first post, so again, thank you so much!!! Here is part two!

𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 ⟡ ☾ ⟡ 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃

He sat in the bath for what felt like hours. The water was hot. Scorching hot. But it felt good.

His skin was still tingling from the feeling of your touch and his body ached at the loss of your presence after holding you for so long. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily.

Gods, he was losing his mind. Fifty years had clearly not been kind to him.

Fifty years of being Amarantha’s plaything. Fifty years of being forced into submission. Fifty years of watching her, listening to her, touching her.

Fifty years without you. Not having you, not holding you, not being able to listen to you sing or hear your laugh.

Fifty years of her touch, fifty years of her voice. Of being forced to satisfy her. Of being her whore.

Fifty years without you, his mate.

Rhysand didn’t open his eyes again, just exhaled slowly, attempting to calm himself. To push the thoughts of that woman from his mind.

He was home. He was free. She wasn’t here.

You were.

He scrubbed every inch of his skin. Trying to get all the traces of her away from him. He wanted her scent gone, wanted to smell like himself, like you. Reaching for the sweet-smelling body wash you always liked so much, he rubbed it against his skin.

For fifty years, all he’d think about every waking moment was you. Your face, your laughter, your smile, your soft touch, your scent. He had clung on to the memory of you, just to keep himself sane. Just to keep himself alive.

Gods, he was tired. So, so tired.

He pushed that thought away for now. He couldn’t give in to his exhaustion yet. Not when his family was waiting for him, downstairs. And most importantly, not when he owed you a kiss.

A kiss. So much more than just a kiss. He needed to kiss every inch of you, worship your whole body, hold you, touch you. He needed to feel you in his mind again, to be connected with you in every possible way.

Rhysand stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel, using it to furiously dry his skin. He looked better, that was for sure, but he still looked worn and tired. Grabbing a pair of dark pants and a shirt, quickly threw them on. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to get the unruly locks to stay down. Once his hair was somewhat in order he took another look in the mirror. Deep down he still felt dirty and definitely not convinced that he looked anywhere near presentable. His skin was paler than usual, looking almost sickly in comparison to before he went to Amarantha. He looked like he could benefit from another fifty years in bed.

Rhys felt almost hesitant as he left the bathroom and stepped back into his bedroom. A small part of him was scared that this whole day had just been a dream. That he’d get back into the bedroom and find it empty, or worse, find that witch there. Deep down he was so damn afraid that it is just a nightmare. Another horrible nightmare.

But then he smelt you.

His shoulders immediately relaxed a bit when the scent of you hit his nose. He immediately knew you were still here, waiting for him.

A second later he heard your laughter from downstairs. Rhys smiled at the sound of your laugh, that beautiful, sweet, sweet sound. The idea of seeing you with his family, his Inner Circle made his heart fill with warmth. It just felt right.

𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 ⟡ ☾ ⟡ 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃

The Inner Circle was sitting around the table, as you brought another warm dish, wine already poured in every glass. “Just, don’t overwhelm him too much,” you said, mostly to Cassian, knowing he would be the first to throw punches.

Cassian let out a scoff as he heard you say that. He was already bouncing his leg impatiently, fidgeting eagerly in his seat.

Azriel sat silently, seemingly calm but with a hint of worry in his eyes. He, like Cassian, also seemed eager to see his High Lord, to see his brother after fifty years.

Meanwhile, Amren was quietly sipping on a glass of whatever was in it, seemingly unimpressed. Mor on the other hand was already reaching for another bottle of wine, clearly nervous.

Cassian let out a scoff at your words. “Who, me?” he asked, as if insulted by the fact that you would suggest he would ever do that.

“Don’t pretend as if you wouldn’t be the first one to go and tackle him” Azriel let out a small snort.

“I just want to give him the greeting he deserves!” protested Cassian, his arms out in the air.

Azriel let out another small scoff, clearly not very convinced. “That doesn’t mean you have to literally tackle him to the ground as soon as you see him, Cass.”

“You two behave” you glared at both Cassian and Azriel. “I am being serious here, give him space, as much as he needs.”

That was the main reason you told him to relax in the bath. The main reason you did not kiss him more. He still had his shields up, not letting you in. You had no idea what he had been through and all you wanted, was to respect his boundaries. Give him the space to breathe, and move around freely.

You wanted him to remember, that it was all over.

That he was home.

Both Cassian and Azriel fell silent at your glare. It was clear that you’d have no problem telling them off if they made any unwanted, unnecessary, or overdone gestures toward Rhysand. And the last thing either of them wanted was to upset you.

They both looked down silently, mumbling out a quick “yes ma’am” as if they were scolded children. Nothing new.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs drew everyone’s attention, and the air in the room suddenly became thick and tense with anticipation.

Rhysand finally appeared at the door, his eyes darting around the room. He took a deep breath as he took in the sight before him. The table, filled with his favourite foods, his family sitting around it all looking absolutely stunned to see him there in the doorway, alive and well.

No one spoke, everyone was silent, all eyes on him. It was as if they were all too scared to say something, as if they didn’t quite believe that he was truly standing there.

Like one wrong move, and everything would be gone.

Rhysand’s eyes landed on you, standing in the corner. Alive, safe, and unharmed, he thought.

And then, by some weird instinct, you reached, taking the hot soup out of the way, the same moment Cassian stood up, shaking the whole table, already charging at Rhys.

You rolled your eyes, groaning at that.

The movement of Cassian standing up immediately caught Rhysand’s attention. He knew his brother well, and by now, he knew what was coming. Cassian was out of his seat, and charging at him within seconds. And all Rhysand could do was brace himself for impact.

The impact came soon, and Rhys suddenly found his arms full with his massive, buff-ass brother. Cassian slammed into him so heavily, tackling him to the ground. His breath was knocked from his lungs and he let out a groan as his back hit the hard, wooden floor. The other Illyrian was on top of him, pinning him into place. Cassian’s chest heaved with emotion. A strange mixture of anger, worry, and relief.

“Get off!” Rhys forced out, pushing at his brother. But Cass was stronger than him and was sitting firmly on his chest.

“I’m just trying to give you a damn welcome,” he said with a huge grin on his face. “Fifty. Fifty years,” he breathed out, gripping Rhysand’s shirt tighter. “Fifty years you were gone.”

Rhysand felt his anger turn into guilt as he looked at his brother. He had known it would be hard on them when he was gone, when he was under her control, but seeing the pain in his eyes, knowing he was part of the reason for it made his heart ache.

He wanted to push Cassian off, to tell him to get a grip of himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Especially not when his brother spoke again.

“Fifty years of thinking we’d never see you again.”

Rhysand felt his heart ache more at Cassian’s words, his head was already spinning.

Fifty years. Fifty years he’d been forced to abandon his family. For fifty years he’d had to act as Amarantha’s whore. Fifty years of pretending to be anything other than free. Fifty years he had spent being tortured, and now he was here, finally here.

Finally home. Finally with his family again.

“Get off of me,” Rhysand grumbled. “You’re crushing me.” He looked up into Cassian’s hazel eyes, the pain behind them clear.

“Hell no,” retorted Cassian, not budging one bit. He was not moving away, not until he’d got that message through to Rhysand.

His breathing was coming out in short pants as he spoke. “How the hell do you think I feel? Fifty. Years. Fifty years I’ve had to deal with Az’s moodiness and Mor’s constant bitching, not to mention Amren. I nearly went insane, you prick.”

Rhys did not miss the tears that started building in his brother’s eyes.

“Cassian” you finally decided to chime in, your voice surprisingly soft. “Get up, food is still warm.”

Your soft but firm voice seemed to get through to him, and he slowly loosened his grip on Rhysand’s shirt. He stood up, not taking his eyes away from his brother, as if he was scared of him suddenly disappearing.

A second later, Rhysand was again a little overwhelmed as his family all stood up, wanting to hold him and hug him. But he allowed them to do so, knowing that they had needed this.

He needed this.

He felt Azriel’s hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly, as if making sure he was truly here. Azriel let out a shaky breath at the sight of Rhys. “Thank the Mother you’re back,” he said quietly, he pulled him into a hug, his embrace strong.

The second to reach him was Amren, who punched him on the shoulder, clearly trying to keep her facade of calmness together. But he could see the relief in her eyes.

Mor was the last one, hugging him so tightly he was certain she’d suffocate him. She was whispering something in his ear, and he could faintly hear the words, “I’m so sorry”. “Stop apologizing” he mumbled in her ear.

Rhysand felt overwhelmed with emotions. Seeing his family standing around him, holding him, squeezing him so tightly it was as if they were scared he’d disappear.

His eyes landed on you. Seeing you stare at everyone, at him, with a soft expression in your eyes, made his heart pang painfully, and all he wanted to do was to have you in his arms.

But he could wait, he reminded himself. He had waited fifty years, he could wait a few more hours.

Once everyone had finally released him, you gently pulled him to the table, and you all sat down.

Rhysand still couldn’t quite believe this. He was surrounded by his family, sitting down at a table filled with his favourite foods, and he had you with him.

It was so utterly surreal that he almost pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

You reached your hand for his under the table, and he immediately closed his fingers around yours. A simple touch. Rhysand’s body immediately relaxed. He let out a small breath, closing his eyes as he felt the familiar rush of comfort and calm he always felt whenever you touched him.

He gently stroked your skin with his thumb as he opened his eyes, turning to look at you.

“Good?” You whispered, only for him to hear, making sure he was alright.

Rhys felt a small thump in his chest. Gods, he was so in love with you. So in love with your soft, sweet voice whispering to him. So in love with the gentle concern in your tone. Still afraid of waking up suddenly, waking up with that red-haired monster.

Home. He was home. With his family. With you.

He let out another breath, feeling the last of his tension and stress drain out of him at your question. So he squeezed your hand slightly in response, a smile on his face. “Good,” he whispered back, his eyes never leaving your face.

You smiled more, nodding your head as you reached for a glass of wine. He leaned back in his chair, his hand still in yours, as he watched the banter go back and forth between everyone. Watching as they all ate some of his favourite foods. The rich, warm stew you had made, along with a variety of other dishes.

Rhys couldn’t believe he had been the luckiest bastard in Prythian. Getting to come back home and seeing you, his mate, still here, waiting for him. And he’d be damned if he didn’t make good on his promises.

HOURS LATER.

You laughed so loudly, so hard that a few tears rolled down your cheeks. Just because of one of Cassian’s stupid jokes. But you were laughing for the first time in forever. Rhysand couldn’t help but crack a small smile. It was so good to see you laughing again.

His body felt warm, full from all the food, and light after the many glasses of wine he had drank. But more than anything, he felt utterly at peace for the first time in fifty years. There were no responsibilities weighing him down, no Amarantha forcing him to perform. He was simply relaxing, at home with his family, like he should’ve been fifty years ago. There was still a small part of him that couldn’t believe it. A small part of him was scared this was all a dream, or just a hallucination, or something else, and that he’d be yanked back to the reality of Under The Mountain. But the feel of your soft hand on his shoulder, the sound of Amren’s amused scoff at one of Cassian’s jokes, it all felt so real, in a way that could only mean that this was, in fact, very much real.

A small yawn escaped his lips, and he quickly tried to cover it up. It wasn’t that the late hour was affecting him too much - he had been forced to stay up much, much later than this on multiple occasions - but rather that all the food and wine, the relaxed atmosphere, made him feel sleepy. He tried not to let it show, not wanting to break the relaxed mood, not wanting to go to bed.

“I’m glad you find it so entertaining,” came Cassian’s voice from the other side of the table, a pout clear on his face.

Rhysand snorted. “And I’m glad to see your sense of humor is still as bad as ever.”

You giggled softly, shaking your head, “Perhaps we should go and rest,” you said, of course noticing the tired look in his eyes. He felt a pang of affection in his chest as he heard your suggestion.

Of course, you would notice that he was tired, would worry even if he didn’t say anything. You were always so aware of his every need and emotion. And the last thing he wanted was to worry you.

He gave a small nod, a slight yawn escaping his lips.

“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” he said, giving you a small, tired smile.

The words had barely left his mouth before Cassian let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly not happy to hear the fun was over. “Gods, just go make out already,” he said, a suggestive smirk on his face. “We all know that’s all you two want to do tonight anyway.”

You blushed softly at his words, “Cassian!”

Rhysand let out another low chuckle as he saw you blush at Cassian’s words.  You were so cute, he thought. He missed seeing you blush.

Cassian let out a small huff at your reaction, his smirk growing bigger. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me I’m wrong,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms behind his head, his wings relaxed behind him.

You groaned, looking up to Rhys. He noticed your gaze on him and immediately realised what you were thinking. He saw the blush on your face, and the pleading look in your eyes.

He then let out a huff and looked towards Cassian. “And on that wonderful note,” he said, “everyone out. Go find somewhere else to be for the night.”

He didn’t wait to see if they obeyed. Rhys gently took your hand and winnowed you both back to your bedroom. To the room, you couldn't bring yourself to be in for the last fifty years.

This was the same bedroom he hadn’t seen for fifty years. The same bed where you had both slept peacefully together for so many years. The same room where he had shared so many quiet, intimate moments with you.

His eyes scanned the room as he looked at everything, taking in how much it had stayed exactly the same. It was almost surprising just how much it reminded him of better times. He took a deep breath, taking in the familiar scent of you, of the room. It was all so incredibly you, and it made him feel so at home that his eyes fluttered shut for a moment in contentment.

You squeezed his hand gently, “It was so cold in here without you.”

Rhysand instantly felt his body tense at your words. “Don’t...” he breathed out, his eyes still closed. He didn’t want to hear about how cold the room had been, how cold and lonely you had felt. The mere thought of it twisted his gut unpleasantly, making his heart clench.

He forced himself to open his eyes, turning to look at you. Your eyes had grown slightly glassy as you spoke, the memories obviously fresh in your mind as he saw it. Your shields of course down and you were trying to push the thought of you lying in this cold and empty room away. Of you lying in bed every night, not getting sleep, not getting rest. How you only were able to stay in here for three days until it was too much.

He clenched his jaw as he spoke again, his voice quiet. “I don’t want to talk about how cold you were without me,” he said, reaching to your cheek. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to imagine you in here, missing me, needing me…” He took a small step closer, his eyes dark with something. “Just don’t, okay?”

“I am still mad” you admitted suddenly, looking up into his eyes.

A frown immediately appeared on Rhysand’s face. “Mad?” he echoed, his eyes narrowing. “You’re mad?” His tone of voice was almost dangerous, defensive almost. He was not in the mood to deal with his mate being mad at him. Not after everything he had just endured down under that mountain.

“Yes,” you said immediately. “I am mad.”

A small scoff left Rhysand’s mouth at your words. He stared at you, his expression hardening. “You’re mad? You’re mad at me?” he repeated, his voice raising now. Why in the world were you mad at him? He had just spent fifty years trapped in hell, being Amarantha’s toy. What right did you have to be mad at him?

“Did I say I am mad at you?” You whispered, tilting your head slightly.

Some of the anger in Rhysand’s expression faded as he realised his mistake, the meaning of your words finally hitting him. His shoulders relaxed slightly and he let out another breath, running a hand through his hair.

No, no you hadn’t said you were mad at him. You had just said you were mad. He blinked at you, almost feeling silly as he realised how easily he had let himself get worked up and angry.

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath as his heart rate slowed down. He let out a long breath. “Perhaps explain why you’re angry then?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“I am mad at myself” your voice barely above whisper, as you reached for his hand.

Mad at yourself. Not at him.

He took a soft breath as you reached for his hand, and he gently laced your fingers with his, feeling the familiar comfort of your touch.

“I couldn’t help you,” you said, frowning a little. “I should have helped you somehow…”

Rhysand’s heart ached in his chest as he heard your words. So that’s what you were angry about. You were angry because you thought you hadn’t helped him. That you could’ve done more.

“You did help,” he said, his voice softer. He gently squeezed your hand in his, his eyes roaming all over your face.

Your frown deepened, as you looked up into his eyes, slightly confused. Not understanding what he meant by that. Rhys saw the confusion on your face, the furrow in your brow. He realized that you were not grasping what he was trying to tell you.

A smile appeared on his face, the one that made his eyes shine. “You did help me,” he repeated, saying the words slowly. “You helped me every single day that I was away. You gave me hope, a reason to live. Without you, I would’ve lost my mind down there.”

Lifting his hand, he gently cupped your jaw, smiling more. “By the Cauldron,” a sigh left his lips as he rested his forehead against yours “Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you? How many times the memory of you, of your face, your body, was what kept me going?”

“Fifty years,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “Fifty years of living in hell, and the only thing that kept me going was you. It was your face, your smile, your laugh, your scent, your voice, all playing in my head over and over and over again. That was the only thing keeping me sane.”

Tears started to build in your eyes at his words. “Idiot…” you mumbled, sniffling a little.

A soft smile appeared on Rhysand’s lips as he heard the word. He knew you only ever called him an idiot jokingly. And he knew that if you were now calling him an idiot, it was a good sign.

“And yet you love me anyway,” he said softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, catching a fallen tear.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, hugging him, as you sniffled again “Don’t leave me, ever again.”

Rhysand’s arms wrapped around your body immediately, holding onto you tightly as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, letting it wash over him.

He let out a sigh. “I won’t,” he promised, holding onto you so tenderly, as if he was scared he might break you. “I’m never leaving you again. Ever.” His hands started to slowly caress your back, gently going up and down, just feeling the smooth skin under them. He took another few deep breaths, your scent, and your body against his almost making him feel dizzy.

Rhys gently guided you backward until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, causing you both to topple down onto the bed. He hovered above you, looking down at your face, looking into your eyes. His heart was pounding against his chest, his body almost aching with desire as he took in your face, looked at you laying out beneath him.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, gently reaching out a hand to brush some hair out of your face.

He lowered his head, slowly making his way down to your neck, peppering kisses along your skin.

“I was yelling at everyone” You mumbled, already unbuttoning his shirt. “That we had to do something. Save you.”

Rhysand’s heart thumped in his chest as he heard your words. Despite knowing that you had never given up hope, the thought of you fighting for him, of you trying to save him, was almost too much. He could so easily imagine you yelling, demanding that everyone do something, demanding that everyone save him. He could practically see you standing there, his fierce, tiny, determined mate.

Mate. His mate.

Chuckling a little at your words he shook his head “Of course you were.” His hands were working quickly to take off your own shirt, needing to feel your skin underneath his touch. “I expected nothing less.”

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled too.

Rhys smiled, his lips against your neck. He continued to plant soft, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses up towards your jaw. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help the need he felt to mark you, to leave you something as proof of it being real, of him being back home.

“Of course,” his hands were all over you. “You’ve always been so fiercely protective of me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck again. “So very, very protective.”

“Because you deserve it” you whispered quickly. “You take care of everyone. You do everything to make everyone happy and safe.”

It was so true; those were the things that mattered to him. Making sure his people were happy, and safe. And most of all you. His heart clenched, shields still so high in his mind, hiding the memories from you. You still believed that he was worthy of being taken care of, that he deserved to be protected. And as you said the words, he felt his chest ache with overwhelming affection and love for you.

Rhysand felt a lump rise in his throat at your words. He couldn’t believe that you were here beneath him, saying these things to him. Praising him, loving him. It seemed too good to be true.

“Gods, you’ll make me cry if you keep saying things like that,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual.

You pulled him down by his neck, your lips not yet touching “But still, you are not being honest with me” you whispered, searching his eyes.

Rhysand let out a soft breath as you pulled him down, your bodies almost pressed together. Gods, he could practically taste you, he was so close to having you.

But then you stopped him from kissing you.

He raised his eyebrows at your words, now looking into your eyes, feeling a wave of uneasiness wash over him.

“And what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice careful.

You sighed, guiding him, so you both were sitting on the bed, still close but you did keep a small distance. “You are keeping me away.”

Rhysand frowned, feeling a pang of hurt run through him at your words. Keeping you away? That’s certainly not what he was doing. He was aching, aching, to have you close, to be with you, to have you in every way possible. He shook his head quickly, trying to banish the hurt from his eyes. “I’m not keeping you away, sweetheart,” he said, trying to find the right words. “I just want to go slow, I want to be careful. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, not like that,” your voice was quiet, vulnerable. Raising your hand, you placed it on his temple, “You are keeping me away from you”. Feeling how high his shields were, how strongly he kept you away from his mind, it hurt you.

It hurt, not being able to feel him that way.

He felt his heart stop in his chest as he heard your words, as he felt your hand on his temple. It hadn’t even occurred to him how much you must have missed feeling him down the bond, feeling the connection.

But… he wasn’t ready for you to feel all the pain and fear he had endured, all the trauma from Under the Mountain.

“I want to help you, to give you everything you need. But I can’t do that while you keep me away. Not letting me in” You brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “I want to know, what she did to you. How she hurt you.”

You wanted to comfort him, to comfort and help him. But he felt so broken, so ugly, so used. He was scared, he was scared that you’d never look at him the same if you found out how Amarantha had touched, used him, and made him do those dirty things.

He squeezed his eyes closed as he heard your voice. No, he didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want you to hear about what had happened, he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want you to know about how weak and broken it had made him, how pathetic he had felt.

“You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You don’t want to be saddled with the horrors and trauma of it all.”

“Rhys I am your mate-“

“Exactly,” he interrupted, suddenly snapping. “You are my mate. I am supposed to protect you, to keep you safe. To take care of you, not the other way around. This isn’t-“ he stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he realised that he was being an idiot. He was just feeling so damn vulnerable right now, so damn raw.

You shook your head, pulling him closer, “I just don’t want you to have all my horrors sitting in the back of your mind,” he said, his voice quiet now. “I don’t want that for you.”

“Look at me” You murmured softly “I won’t look at you differently if that is what you’re afraid of” You caressed his cheek. “I love every part of you, no matter what.”

Rhysand felt the knot in his chest tighten as you caressed his cheek, as you spoke such sweet, tender words to him.

And his heart, his heart ached.

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes roaming all over your face as he spoke. “You don’t understand, you don’t… I let her do it. For fifty damn years, I let her use, touch, and hurt me. And I just... laid there and endured it.”

“No, no, no, no, Rhys, my love no,” you shook your head again, searching his eyes, your heart breaking. “Everything you did was to save your family, to save your people, and I would never, look differently at you. You sacrificed so much, so much for other’s happiness” You rested your forehead against his.

Hearing the utter determination, the absolute conviction in your voice, made Rhysand want to cry. Feeling your forehead against his, your soft touch, the closeness.

Those goddamned words. The way you said them so honestly, with so much love, so much understanding.

“I let her use me… for fifty years I-“ He did not want to cry in front of you. “A whore, that is exactly what I am”

You gently took his hand, pulling him slowly, so carefully down, so you could both lie down. In your mind, there were already so many thoughts, as you slowly guessed what he meant, and your heart broke even more.

You felt sick that he had to endure all of that.

“Don’t. Don’t you ever dare call yourself that” you whispered.

Rhysand felt his chest tighten, his body shivering as he followed you. He desperately, desperately, wanted to bury himself in you and simply take comfort in your scent and your presence.

Yet, you did not make that kind of a move towards him. You just pulled him close, hugging him so gently. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, not being able to look into your eyes. He swallowed hard as the memories assaulted him again, making his stomach turn into a painful knot. “Fifty years,” he repeated hoarsely. “I let her use me, abuse me…”

“One day I felt so bad, that Cassian and Azriel literally dragged me out of my room” You spoke suddenly, stopping him, and changing the subject, just like that.

Caught by surprise by the sudden change of subject, Rhys blinked a few times, “What are you talking about?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed, not understanding.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, “I did not want to eat, or sleep, or move.” You murmured, playing gently with his hair. “They decided that it was time for me to… pull myself together. So they dumped me into the river.”

Feeling how hard it was for him to talk about what Amarantha did to him, you decided not to push him, to let go. Deciding that, it was not the time yet for him to open up about it, and as his mate, of course, you understood.

A small hint of a smile appeared on Rhysand’s face. The image of you being dragged out of bed by Cassian and Azriel and being thrown into a river was a very fitting one. He sighed softly as you tangled your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of your touch.

“How long did they have to keep doing that?” he asked, now gently caressing your side.

“Two weeks straight” you laughed a little, feeling him relaxing in your arms.

Rhys started laughing too, the thought of you being dumped into a river every single day for two whole weeks was both amusing and amusing.

He was relaxing, but he still felt so on edge. On one hand, he was enjoying this moment with you, enjoying your touch, your laughter, feeling the bond flow through you both. But on the other hand, there was a part of him that was aching with the need to talk, to unload the past fifty years onto you. He did not want to keep hiding those memories from you.

“And then, next month came, the same story. It happened a lot” you murmured softly, nuzzling your face in his hair.

Even though he was enjoying this moment, enjoying your soft, gentle touch and your sweet voice, there was a part of him still feeling so raw, so disgusted with himself. He suddenly let out a soft sigh, his fingers gripping your hip a bit harder. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Hell yeah, I am” You laughed with a bright smile.

And Rhys couldn’t help the laughter that broke out of him at your words, feeling a burst of warm affection. Gods, he had missed this. He had missed laughing, making sarcastic comments and jokes just like that.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. “Clever girl.”

“When you are ready. One day, I will be here to listen,” you started quietly, still playing gently with his hair, curling the soft strands around your fingers, “But for now, can we just, stay like this?”

Deeply you wanted to know what exactly happened Under the Mountain, what Amarantha did to him. How much he really sacrificed. How broken he really was, and how could you help.

But not yet. Not when you finally could hold him, rest with him, laugh with him. Not when he was so alive, so real, lying next to you, breathing, not a hallucination, not a dream.

As you spoke, Rhysand felt a sense of relief wash over him. The fact that you weren’t forcing him to talk about it now, that you weren’t pushing him to unload all his trauma and pain onto you.

Instead, all he had to think about right now was the fact that he was home, that he was in your arms.

He pressed a few gentle kisses on your shoulder, before he spoke, his voice gruff. “Only if I can hold you like this every day for the next fifty years.”

You giggled softly, “Fifty years is not enough.”

Rhys chuckled softly, feeling a rush of affection towards you once again. Gods, he would never get tired of the sound of your sweet giggles.

“Alright, a hundred then. Two hundred, even,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, followed by a small love bite. “That’s still not enough, though.”

“Still not enough.”

“Forever” This time, he connected your lips in a soft kiss.

“Forever.”

[leviathan-supersystem]

i know this is quite an open-ended question, so apologies in advance, but as a marxist-leninist what are your main issues with post-modernism/post-structuralism as a school of thought? from libs to anarchists, lots of (so-called) progressives/leftists seem to really enjoy it, but its reception is a far less positive among communists/marxists from what i gather. what are your thoughts on it, and on the work of people like foucault, deleuze, guattari, or even more recent ones like judith butler etc? once again sorry if this is too open-ended, but i really value your insight on politics and philosophy etc etc.

well, to be clear i do think there are some good critiques which have come out of the post-modernist camps, and consequently i would consider myself more of a neo-modernist than a classical modernist, as i do think mdernism as a concept needs to be updated in response to post-modernist critiques.

at it's best, post-modernism offers genuinely useful critiques of the limits of our ability to know things, genuine good points about the inherently fuzzy and indefinable boundaries of any system of categories that human beings could ever create.

at it's worst, post-modernism rejects the very notion that there's a material world that we can understand, and rejects the very notion of categories as a whole. once it crosses the boundary into this sort of solipsism is utterly useless to me.

ultimately once post-modernism crosses the boundary into this sort of solipsism- which it often does- it becomes completely incompatible with marxism, which is fundamentally based on the notion that there is a material world and we can learn things about it. no, we can never know things with 100% certainty, but we can know with better than 0% certainty

i really love deleuze and guattari's Capitalism and Schizophrenia, but ultimately i think it's more of a piece of poetry than a piece of real scientific theory. and i do believe, fundamentally, that the approach to analyzing capitalism must be a scientific one.

i'm not very fond of foucault at all, because frankly i'm a bit of a panopticon apologist. these sorts of "panopticons" are just part of living in a group with other people, and while i certainly think there are points to be made about how these sort of systems of sousveilance need to be regulated in order for them to not be excessive and harmful, but ultimately these sorts of regulations on those systems are themselves enforced by social systems of sousveilance. so for example, the idea of taking pictures of people in public and posting them online, i agree that there should be social conventions discouraging that behavior- but inevitably these social conventions are enforced through similar "panopticon" style social systems- that when someone sees someone posting a creepshot online, the observers collectively disincentivize that behavior, tell them "dude don't take pictures of random people in public and post them online to talk shit about them you dick" etc. anyways, that's why i don't think the foucaultian persective on "panopticons" is particularly useful though i agree that obviously those social systems exist.

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 20 ... WITH BENEFITS??

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, y/n has daddy issues for the sake of the plot

NOTES | I have no idea why this update took me so long to post I'm so sorry 😭 I don't like making chapters like this too sad (don't worry there's still gonna be some angsty chapters) but I don't want the written stuff on its own bcs that feels too espresso depresso or wtv the phrase is so this is a bit of a longer chap than usual.. anyways if ever you feel bad for y/n, don't worry you're gonna feel worse

19:21, dinner the night before

Y/n shuffles in her seat.

Jaemin greets her with a smile, and though she offers one back, that sinking feeling in her stomach doesn't seem to settle.

Suddenly now that she finds herself face to face with her once best friend, no menus in hand since they'd already given their orders, no way to avoid conversation for just a couple seconds longer, Y/n finds herself at a loss for words.

What was anyone supposed to say in this situation?

Sure a thank you would be ideal, considering Jaemin had somehow managed the impossible, but the words escaped her. Like they rested at the tip of her tongue but she lacked the drive to speak them.

It's not that y/n wasn't grateful, no, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't, in fact she didn't know what it was, what confused her so deeply that she sat there silently. Her thumbs twiddling against one another, as she stared down at the table in front of her.

There was a nagging whisper in her mind, one that cast shadows over her once clear thoughts, leaving her in that haze of uncertainty that she recognised all too well. Recently it was all she could feel around the captain.

Something about this situation in particular makes her palms sweaty and the hairs stand on her neck, every glance at Jaemin feeling like a shadow of what had once been, a reminder of how it had all been lost.

Even just sitting opposite Jaemin isn't simple.

Not at all.

It's like sitting across from a mirror that once reflected shared laughter and secrets, now distorted by fractures of lost trust and unspoken words. She supposed that was the thing about mirrors and shattering. No matter how hard you tried to glue the pieces back together, it would never quite be the same.

Perhaps that's why y/n is lousy in her attempts, grateful to Jaemin but unbothered to express it. The thought that no matter how desperately she hoped, this couldn't be restored. That there was no point in pouring energy into a friendship that would never be resolved.

"So" it's undoubtedly jaemin who breaks the silence, a soft tone to his voice, not quite as gentle as the other night but still warm "are you feeling better? like really okay?"

For a moment she wonders whether she'll break at the sound of his voice like she always had. Would she go back to that point in life where it was so easy to lie, so easy to say she was okay, so easy to pretend, in front of everyone else but never in front of him.

"I'm fine, honestly." She lies.

There's a shy sheepish smile that creeps across her lips and slightly accents her words

Jaemin hasn't seen much of her positivity be directed his way, and seeing this ignites the little hope in him that they could move on from this, from everything.

"You didn't have to work on it without me you know, it was just as much my project as it was yours and you putting in all the effort isn't fair on you."

"You did most of the preliminary stuff anyways, and I really didn't want to ask you because of the other night" Jaemin finally admits, though not willingly, his words extracted more so by her sharp stare and the cold atmosphere.

"Right..." Her attempts at changing the subject, clearly in vain— he really needed to stop asking about the other night. Y/n wasn't sure how much h longer she could hold back the tears, the looming feeling of inadequacy as a guardian still strong. She should have been more careful.

She knows its her turn to speak, opening her mouth to do so.

But again, y/n struggles.

The words play hide and seek in her mind, leaving her to grasp at empty. The atmosphere grows heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Her mind races, a jumble of what to say, thoughts of how easy conversation once was, how effortless it had been, all such a stark contrast to now.

Jaemin watches, a mix of intrigue and concern in his eyes as she contemplates in front of him, quiet but with an expression that spoke volumes.

The silence between them seems to bite louder than any conversation they once held, each dish in front, a reminder of the bitter aftertaste of a friendship turned cold.

"It's just Minjun and I" she breathes out, voice shaky, and Jaemin realises that those nervous cues in her slumped posture and shaking hands had never changed "It's just been the two of us for a while" she whispered. "That's why I was so scared"

Jaemin's hand hovers uncertainly beneath the table, unsure if the gesture would be welcomed or misunderstood, caught in the delicate balance of care and concern.

Admittedly, Jaemin catches himself slightly intrigued, still confused what could have lead to her practically perfectly family turning into this.

But he knows better than to let his curiosity get the best of him.

He wants to stop her, tell her that whatever it is that causes her brows to knit together and her pretty eyes to gloss over isn't something she needs to force herself to talk about, but he doesn't know how.

For a moment he's kicking himself under the table— how had he ever let go of the person who meant so much to him?

Even now, knowing everything she had done, he couldnt help but question why hadn't he tried to get past it then?

At the sight of her downcast features suddenly everything that he once despised her for seemed so trivial.

Jaemin sees himself, a younger, less mature version that stands on the court, hair matted to his forehead from the rain, a ball long forgotten somewhere behind him, cold, betrayed, and so painfully alone. Those burning tear stained cheeks, the harsh whistles of wind, the bitter feeling of failure still clinging to his skin, he remembers it all.

But every feeling he recalls so well, so vividly, is so easily dismissed when her eyes shine with a painful tint, red from the piercing tears that she holds in them.

"My dad" she cuts him off, gaze now avoidant as he grabbed her cold hands in his, "he walked out on us not long after ...whatever hapenned between you and me. He never came back, didn't answer a single call, not even a text, no form of communication except the papers he sent in the mail so I could become Junnie's legal guardian."

I missed you, she wanted to say. I needed you she'd liked to add.

"That's why it's just the two of us now" she said instead, trying to find more words to stop the tears from flowing, like her words were the only thing that could hold them back.

Back then, Y/n remembers vividly the feeling of wanting to fall, to sink, to drown but still somehow keeping her head above the surface to hold on and stay strong for her younger brother. She wondered if Jaemin had been there, would it have been easier? Would she have let herself fall, would she have someone to give her a hand, to pick her back up again and hold her hand through it all? Would things have ended differently?

"I'm sorry" his words weren't new, they weren't special, they were the same as what everybody else would say but the fact that they came from him, Na Jaemin who now stood by her side with his arms wrapped around her, was enough to dissolve the feeling of emptiness.

08:25 present time

Y/n looks over at Minjun, still deep in slumber, smiling before she steps out of the room.

There's way too many toys sprawled out across the living room floor, a blanket she finds herself folding as she subconsciously begins to clean up. Her eyes land on the kitchen counter, wondering what to make for breakfast. She was never particularly good at cooking, but she'd been learning for her brothers sake.

When she gets to the black jacket resting over the couch, it hits her. She catches sight of her puffy eyes in the mirror, and a hand runs through her hair hurriedly.

"Why the fuck did I tell him all of that" she let's out a frustrated sigh, running her hands across her face, "I'm supposed to hate him" she reminds herself, though her tone isn't convincing in the slightest.

"You don't hate him though" Heeseung's voice comes out muffled, the toothbrush between his lips making it difficult to understand his words.

He had been the one to stay over last night, her friends still taking turns to accompany Minjun and her every night since he'd walked out of the apartment, a gesture that made her heart swell. Although up until now she was pretty certain he was still asleep. Clearly not.

"I can't hate him" she sighs, falling back into the couch "is it bad I want to be friends with him again?" she asks, even though Heeseung had retreated to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

Regardless he pokes his head out into the hallway, a sly smirk across his lips "with benefits?"

Y/n rolls her eyes.

He emerges again not long after, smiling from ear to ear "no y/n it's not bad if you want to be friends again" he takes a seat beside her "you can only fight your feelings for so long, let yourself be vulnerable, take the risk and try again" he says, hands resting on both his knees.

"and if you're feeling really risky, you can always—"

"shut up Heeseung" she smiles, lightly pushing against his arm "I guess it is worth a shot though"

"he's right next door anyways so sneaking around won't be hard at all"

"I meant being friends. Just friends." she stands up, walking over to the kitchen "you down for pancakes?"

He nods.

"You know it could be good though, he's hot, you're hot, there's enough tension to make things interesting and it ticks your not ready for a relationship box pretty well too"

Despite the pointed look the captain offers him, Heeseung doesn't let up, and secretly, she wouldn't have it any other way.

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[pressureplus]

HEYA HELLO HI

first, i want to genuinely thank you guys for the account's existence and your hard work. reading through the posts is often the highlight of my bleak days, and im immensely grateful for you providing those moments of joy :]

SECOND UH ID LIKE TO ORDER A SPECIFIC KINDA HEADCANONS LIST IF NO ONE MINDS AND IT HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN ALREADY ALRIGHT YEAH

a nonbinary reader who is pretty similar to Seb's stubborn, independent and sassy persona but WOMP WOMP, they're suddenly head over heels for him. NEITHER WANTS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FEELINGS (aka "HE'S FUCKING MARRIED, IT'S NOT MUTUAL AND IM BUSY WITH NOT DYING, BUT I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD" & "I HAVE A WIFE AND THEY'RE JUST SOME EXPENDABLE BASTARD, GET OVER IT, SOLACE"). the distracting, unnecessary, painful pining. how do both cope and who's gonna break first? and most importantly, is either gonna throw their ego and rationality out the window to confess despite the fear of looking pathetic?

oooof i hope it's not too much and it's not breaking any rules. thank you in advance if you find it interesting enough for writing! :D

Awww, thanks so much! Although I should make it very clear the wife in question will remain vague and is NOT BASED ON ANYONE! Thanks for the request ❤️

♡Married! Sebastian Solace x NB! Similar! Reader Headcannons♡

Warnings: Sebastian is Married and Y/N is technically an Affair Partner

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had found you interesting from the moment you opened your mouth and got sassy with him, mostly because most people don't have the balls to do it

Despite finding this slightly irritating, he also found it refreshing, so he didn't immediately shoot you if only for his own entertainment

A terrible mistake he'd soon find out

He developed some definitely unhealthy feelings the first time one of your comebacks had an almost flirtatious undertone

It was an accident on your part, but it got him thinking

He was a married man fawning quietly over you, how awful is that?

I mean of course he’s flashed the wedding band, and of course he's mentioned his wife when others flirt with him, but that doesn't change his feelings

If you flirted with him, would he really reject you?

Could he?

He hadn't known the touch of his wife in years, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her kisses

After everything that's happened he couldn't even remember her name. He should be able to remember his wifes name right?

Does he really even care about her? Does he love her now? Did he love her then?

It comes with an odd sense of guilt he doesn't like to look at. Especially when you do something that makes his heart flutter.

You, on the other hand, probably didn't develop any real feelings until he actually saved your ass.

You'd been running for your life and he’d snatched you up and into the vents, tossing you easily into his shop and shutting it behind you

His gaze transfixed on said vent, a hand on his gun. Something about him choosing to save your life while also putting up with your attitude was a little attractive…

Okay, insanely attractive

Sure, Sebastian’s guilt for being attracted to you is bad, but so is yours

You’re attracted to a married man who has absolutely gushed about his wife in front of you before. Even if it was only because someone tried to get a little flirty, what does that matter?

Honestly the mutual attraction makes it hard for you both to focus

Everything about that man is intoxicating, his smile, his laugh, his attitude. Can you really be judged for this?

Neither of you can focus on anything but each other whenever you’re both in a room.

It’s led to Sebastian getting surprised whenever another person buys something off him because he had no idea anyone else was in here

Its also led to you freaking out whenever one of the other expendable touches your shoulder without you having realized anyone was standing behind you

You hide it well…at least you hope you do?

The longing glances and quiet staring on both sides is unbearable though

Especially considering you’re both making those dolly eyes at each other, batting lashes and daydreaming

It’s cute but it’s also incredibly wrong of you two and you’re painfully aware of it

No amount of sharing food and acting like it’s not a date will make it less of a date

He’s already long since decided that he’s going to offer you come with him so you both can leave together

And though neither of you will have the heart to confess for quite a while, I think he’d do it on your way out. Something about you almost dying when you both escape makes him desperate to tell you how he really feels

When that ‘I think I’m in love with you’ slips out while he’s bandaging your arm that’s been cut by glass, how can you refuse?

Especially when you’re in love with him too?

He’ll toss that ring into the ocean once you reach the surface, his wife never loved him like you did anyway

[bitchfitch]

My mother's bf had a fairly major surgery (he's fine and recovering well DW) and he's going to be housebound for his birthday this year, so I've been enlisted to come up with a fancy birthday meal for the special birthday boy that's primarily fruit and veg, sweeter than savory, and is something he's never had before.

Bc I'm making watermelington. It's beef Wellington, but watermelon. bc my mom only found out recently you can use watermelon as a tuna substitute. And I know that you can substitute most higher quality beef cuts with tuna or salmon.... usually. Anyways the idea fascinates her so I'm hoping to use that for bonus points.

Now he's off his ass on pain killers so I can't like. Ask him if he's ever had something before. so to meet my brief I've decided to just. commit a novel hate crime against the British I guess.

Anyways. I'm writing this because I need to walk myself through this process and think it'll be surreal enough to be worth taking y'all along for.

So, Beef Wellington. In its most basic bitch arrangement is a beef tenderloin wrapped in prosciutto/really thin bacon, with a layer of mushroom and onion mush, that has been further wrapped in mustard slathered puff pastry.

We will be ship of Theseusing this. bc beef Wellington is like. the opposite of what he wants. Which is why it's funny.

Puff pastry-> it's still just puff pastry

this one doesn't have to change (aka I can't be fucked to do pastry prep and I'm just gonna use store bought it's Fine.)

the prosciutto is also just going to be prosciutto.

Thin meat

Beef tenderloin-> watermelon,

Tbh this is a pretty 1 to 1 substitution. I'll bake the slices at like. 250-300 for an hour or so ahead of the rest of prep to dry it out a bit. bc you can't like. Sear watermelon to seal in the water like you can beef. By definition it's a very wet fruit (like me when I fall into the lake). Ill Add salt and chili and lime juice while baking maybe. this is the easy part

The mushroom mush-> salsa done bad style

As the word mush implies, this is meant to be a very soft mix. It adds a lot of nuttiness to the wellington that rounds out all of the salt from the meats. I'm replacing it with white person salsa(the birthday boy can't handle spice). Tomato, lime juice, parsley, avocado, cucumber, feta, and maybe mango so I can have an excuse to have a lil mango treat. I said I wasn't making it spicy. I'm still putting a bit of chili in it. bc it'll be better like that. This is also a ridiculously wet bit of mush, Even the original mushrooms have too much water. I'll figure something out.

Mustard -> jelly

He lives in a big city. those preserve sections are massive. I'll find a weird one. maybe apricot.

Prep:

We're in the mind palace kitchen, I have not attempted any of this. We're just thinking real hard about it and I'll edit as needed on the day and post results.

The watermelon

Preheat oven to eh. 300f? We want low and slow to dry things out without it taking a year. but idk what his oven is like. If it's gentle I'll bump it up another ten-twenty.

Slather some watermelon slices in salt chili powder and lime juice mixture.

bake for 30 min on a wire rack or directly on the oven racks (after cleaning thoroughly) if he doesn't have a wire rack. with a drip try underneath to catch the drippage. check frequently. Have one slice that's for being poked to see if it's approaching being meat. Bake longer if needed.

Salsa bad style

chop everything up and add it to a pan with some oil in it. Tbh I don't think the type of oil you use for cooking matters if you're not like, getting near any smoke points. Most people can't tell the difference unless you made your food bland as hell.

Anyways there's some wildly different moisture contents on the list so there has to be an Order to cook off as much water as possible without getting yucky.

Tomatoes and cucumbers go in together with some salt to get the cucs softening, then the mango chunks and lime juice. Once most of the water is gone the avocado feta and parsley can go in. There is a good amount of water in avocados but they're delicate and don't pan fry well, so we're just going to ignore their water crimes and hope for the best. They just need to be evenly mixed through the rest of the mush.

Putting it together

lay out the puff pastry, cut into sections to wrap each watermelon slice individually with.

Slather in jam

Take the prosciutto and lay it out on half of each section of the pastry,

spoon the salsa onto that

Melon

Another layer of salsa

another layer of thin meat

Fold the pastry over the top and pinch the edges bc watermelon slices are not a rollable shape and I don't want to carve a watermelon into a tube for this because that sounds irritating.

Brush with egg wash and more parsley

Cook in oven following the pastry's preferred temp and time. it's fucking watermelon, you're not getting ecoli from it.

watermelington :)

I'm serving it with baked sweet potatoes and spinach based salad with whatever toppings are left over from making the salsa.

anyways thank you for joing me on this thought experiment. I will post updates once the deed is done. I'm sorry to every British person ever.

[half-oz-eddie]

I do not want to do discourse but I am quite tired so feel free to scroll past this or ignore it idc

First and foremost I do not care if other positivity projects exist. They can exist in unique ways for unique reasons. It's a beautiful thing. I'm sure people love what they do and they're doing it for fun. Personally? I love what I do. A normal amount. And I do it my own way. Kinley Café is my heartbeat and it's always been a project that I deeply enjoy and that I am passionate about. I ask for nothing in return except the chance to touch other people's lives and make them smile by sending out your orders.

I am so comforted by the amount of love and support I receive. It's motivating and has helped me through difficult times. I have been so distracted spreading joy that I've basically breezed through what is usually the most difficult month of my life.

And yet. And yet!! I have been reported as spam so the café does not come up in searches (it's limited/partially shadowbanned I guess you can say. I constantly worry that this affects people getting notified when they receive treats because I want them to know someone is thinking of them. But I have been communicating with Tumblr about it, so don't worry too much). I have received phishing links in DMs and on the order form. And more recently, a password protected blog that hasn't had any activity in 40 days receives nearly a dozen notifications out of the blue because of a months old post circulating as some sort of gotcha, and I find out someone is telling people that I copied an idea (from myself btw) and sent out anons trying to encourage people to call me out over...stealing my own idea?

And I don't wanna hear "they didn't know it was me" because nobody asked me shit! I didn't show anybody any disrespect. In fact, I was being supportive! I showed love! I took the time out to make something because I wanted to continue to encourage the spread the positivity.

And yet, people made accusations even though I was being kind? Do you want a trampoline since you like fucking jumping to conclusions?

KC has been open for FIVE weeks. And I've dealt with all this in a short period of time for absolutely no reason. I've been nothing but kind and supportive of others. I genuinely and sincerely try my best.

I don't wanna let this taint something beautiful or let anything discourage me from doing this again. But I swear to god.....this shit is getting really annoying and bringing out the worst in me. lmao why am I fighting for my life during this little hiatus? I'm dedicating my free time to creating things, and collaborating with others just to spread love and kindness. I don't want anything but peace and quiet.

What's next? Do I have to keep dealing with dumbassery? Or can I go back to sending out treats and going on about my fucking business? Because I do not have time for this. I do not want all this static!!!

I've turned off reblogs. If you want to talk to me privately that's fine but this has been a little overwhelming and I just wanted to get this off my chest.

[ladykailitha]

Hellfire Exotic Club Part 4

Yay! This story is really moving along and were getting to all sorts of plots coming up for you.

With any luck I'll finish Secret Tunnel (aka the Game Show AU) and then just so it goes up and you can read it before the end of the time, I'll be doing a one time posting on Tuesdays.

"A Love Connection" coming to your screens this Tuesday!

It looks like it will be about 7 chapters and lot of fun. So stay tuned for that.

In this we Steve making waves and Jeff having a heart to heart with his best friend.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

~

It was Saturday night and Chrissy and Steve were debuting their fallen angels. Eventually they were going to get color change outfits made up so that they were white when dry and red when wet. So that by the end of their dance, they’ll be devils.

Eddie was so thrilled by the idea that he ordered a couple of different outfits for them so they didn’t always have to wear the same outfit every week.

What they wore as Samael and Eve weren’t anything like their Sins, Satan and Lilith. Steve was having his own outfit made, so for now he was merely wearing the very held on together with too many pins outfit of the former Envy. Bill was much broader than Steve and his out was meant to be tight.

When he first tied them on he looked ridiculous. Steve refused to wear the cowboy hat that went with it because one, it was hideous; two, he had no way of knowing anything about Billy’s hair care or lack thereof to be considered safe; and three, because Steve was a vain ass bitch and refused to cover his hair for anyone.

So until their costumes came, Steve and Chrissy were just wearing skimpy white outfits that they removed during their dance.

It featured Samael and Eve being tempted by Lucifer into falling. It was sexy as hell and Eddie didn’t mind getting to dance with them both.

After all, Eddie was bisexual and both Chrissy and Steve were amazing dancers. Steve wore wings that by the end of their dance, Eddie had ripped off. Eve and her apple. Turning into the gluttonous Lilith, having tasted temptation and wanting to devour it all.

Then it was Eddie’s turn with the hour in the spotlight and he began with his guitar. He played like a rockstar and as he played and screamed his heart out, the clothes came off until there was nothing between him and his sweetheart.

Then he would set the guitar aside dance in just his boots, bumping and grinding for the crowd and all their hard earned money, now his.

Everyone was thrilled with how well the angels dance went down. Well, almost.

Eddie was putting the club’s take of the money into the strong box that would then be locked in his safe in the floor when he got a knock on his office door.

He looked up from his count. “Stella! Come on in. Have a seat. What can I do you for?”

She moved with all the deadly grace of cobra.

“That was a pretty impressive dance tonight,” she hummed non-committedly. “You and Chrissy and the new guy.”

Eddie was a smart man. He gotten to where he was based on that and his good instincts. And both were screaming Stella was in fact not impressed.

“It feels good to shake things up a bit,” he hedged. He wasn’t sure what her complaint was. That Steve and Chrissy got ‘extra time’? That Eddie was playing favorites? That they were a trio instead of duo or single like they usually were?

“We aren’t called Heaven and Hellfire Club, Eddie,” Stella huffed. “There’s shaking things up and then there’s throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”

Ah. The Heaven theme. “A lot of the demons in hell were fallen angels. Lucifer, Samael, Abbadon, Rosier and several others. We’re just tapping into the more Judaic and Islamic mythos instead of relying on the Christian one.”

She pursed her lips and Eddie could feel a storm brewing.

“We’ll see how it goes,” Eddie continued, cutting her off before she could build up steam. “If people don’t like it, we’ll stop. But at least for tonight, we pulled in good money for that dance.”

Stella nodded primly. “You’re right, Eddie. We’ll see.”

Like that wasn’t ominous as fuck.

~

Steve didn’t feel as nervous tonight as he had last week. He had had more time with the dance and he felt more confident in his skin. He knew by now that not everyone stripped, but he wanted to try a little tease tonight to see how that went over.

He leaned over the stool in the middle of the stage and waited for the lights to come on. This was his favorite moment even when he was back doing ballet. He loved the beat between the spotlight being off and then on.

That moment of hushed silence as the crowd takes in a collective breath in anticipation. Waiting.

Waiting.

Bam!

The lights came on and Steve snapped up his head. He pulled his body over the stool and straddled it. He ran his fingers over his body and looked back into the crowd with a pout.

Half way through his hour of dancing, he looked over his shoulder at the crowd and slowly unzipped his corset and then pushed it down his body, as money flew through the air.

Yep. That would certainly do the trick. He turned around and dipped down low, spreading his legs. He bounced right back up. He spun and then did the splits, slowly sinking to the floor. He brought his legs back together and arched his back, leaning on his hands. He laid completely flat and undulated his body. He sat back up and tucked his legs under him.

He crawled toward the front of the stage where there were men and women alike waving fists of cash at him. He let them tuck the bills wherever it would fit and then stood back up.

He finished his dance back on the stool and turned away from the audience. He looked over his shoulder again and winked.

~

Eddie was going to go feral. This was it, the end of his sanity. It had slowly been ebbing away for years but this?

This destroyed the last tether he had to reason. He didn’t drink on the clock. Because he knew the second he got drunk some catastrophe would happen that he would need to be sober for and he’d fuck the whole thing up.

But god, did Steve’s little wink at the end make him want to start with one end of the bar and go all the way down, drinking everything he could get his hands on.

How his hands managed not to shake when he handed Steve his cut of the night’s earnings, he’ll never know. But he even got in a sincere smile while he was at it.

He quietly put the money in the lockbox to be combined with Saturday’s take and taken to the bank first thing in the morning. He locked up his office and went out front to wait for the cleaners. When he got out to the bar, he saw Jeff waiting for him.

That brought him up short. If he was expecting anyone to stay for a chat it would have been Chrissy or Gareth. Jeff pulled out a bottle whiskey and poured them each a glass before sitting down. He patted the stool next to him.

“Come on,” he murmured gently. “I’m not gonna bite you.”

Eddie scoffed and did as he was told. This was bound to be a better conversation then the ones he had with Stella and Steve. At least this time there was booze involved. He picked up the glass and swirled the liquid around before taking a long drink.

“You did good bringing him in,” Jeff started. “More people are coming in then they were before and tips for everyone have gone up.”

Eddie looked over at his best friend and then cocked his head to the side with a half shrug. “I was about ready to go drown my sorrows and give up finding anyone who could replace Billy. Because, yeah for all we brandy about him being stereotypical, he got warm bodies into the club every Sunday night.”

“He certainly could out Magic Mike even the best of strippers,” Jeff agreed. “Too bad his personality was shit and he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants off the stage.”

Eddie drained the rest of his glass and poured himself another. He turned in the stool to face Jeff. “See that’s the part I don’t understand. Why would he sleep around with married women? Especially high profile married women? Because that was just asking for trouble.”

“Because it’s not about sex,” Jeff said with a shrug. “It’s about power. He could have sex with any woman he wanted so he went for the ones in power so that he could control them. Dude was a class A asshole.”

“That’s true,” Eddie scoffed. “But no, I’m glad Steve is settling in. Since Scott’s been helping him learn the moves, he’s been picking them up faster and even adding his own moves.”

“When you got him in to see Ellie?” he asked downing his drink. “Because if he was in a costume that actually fucking fit, he’d be bringing in even bigger numbers.”

Eddie winced. He loved Ellie. She did all the costumes for the club and was always happy to make him new ones. Hell, she was super excited to do the costumes for the fairy tale night. But he was having a hard time getting Steve and her together in the same room because of how wildly different their schedules were. He really wasn’t thinking about that when he gave Steve his schedule.

“I’m working on it,” he muttered darkly. “She’s already slammed with some of the extra work we sent her. I don’t know what Steve does on his days off, but he’s been super busy so it’s hard to get the two of them in the same room.”

“Just have her show up to one of the shows,” Jeff said, “and have her take the measurements between him shaking his assets.”

Eddie snorted. “She likes making our costumes but she passes on the actual show.”

“She’d be in the back in the dressing rooms,” Jeff huffed. “Because he needs to get costumes that fit his style. Hell, he needs to dance his style. The envy dance was great for pole, but Steve barely touches the damn thing. Which considering his past experience is a little weird, but that’s not here or there. He needs to be able to branch out.”

“Would you tell that to Stella, please?” Eddie growled. “She’s already been on my ass about the angel thing. She’s trying to clip his wings before he even gets them.”

Jeff poured them both another glass. Eddie raised an eyebrow. He didn’t usually have more than two. “Don’t worry, I’ve got Uber on standby, but I think we both need this right now. But to answer your question, some people just don’t like change. Especially since she is one of the last vestiges of the KitCat Kitty Club. Her and a couple of the backup dancers. When they saw Billy get fired, suddenly they got very afraid for their jobs.”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, playing with his glass and really not drinking it. Around them the cleaners were getting to work. They were used to Eddie having a drink with one of his friends and just did that section last.

“You just have show them you understand where they’re coming from,” Jeff said, “without letting them push you over. You’re boss after all.”

Eddie glared at him. “And how do you suppose I do that, pray tell?”

“I don’t know,” Jeff said waving his hand. “Fly casually.” He snorted when Eddie hit his arm. “Look, man I don’t know. I’m just a dancer. I shake my ass and I get paid for it. You’re the real brains of this place. You took it to new heights when it should have failed. You brought in some of the best dancers this town has ever seen by the sheer grace of just being friends with them. I don’t know why you’re asking me for advice.”

Eddie buried his head in hands. He sat like that for a moment and then drank all the whiskey in his glass in one gulp. He put his head on the bar and thunked it a couple of times. He was good at this. He could do this.

“I can handle this,” he said waving his hands at the bar. “What I can’t handle is how hot Steve is. Like what the hell?”

Jeff threw his head back and laughed. “Can’t help you with that one, man. I’m straight.”

“God, I wish I was straight or gay instead of the bisexual disaster that I am.”

Jeff put his arm around his shoulders. “People still think you and Chrissy are still an item?”

He nodded morosely and then laid his head on his arms on the bar. He turned his head to look at Jeff. “I can’t beat the allegations even with my personal no dating staff rule.”

“Maybe they just want you to be happy,” he said, finishing his drink and setting the glass behind the bar for the crew to clean up.

“It’s just she’s not out as a lesbian,” Eddie whispered, “and I worry she’s going to be pushed into revealing something she’s not ready to yet.”

“So take a night off once and awhile and date, man,” Jeff huffed. “You give everyone at least one night off, two if you can swing it. But when was the last time you stepped into a club that you didn’t own?”

Eddie scoffed. “Probably never.”

“You have me and Chrissy to help you run this place,” Jeff reminded him. “Take a day off, rest. Hell, go visit your uncle. I bet that bastard misses your scaly ass.”

Eddie shook his head and finished his third glass. “I should. I call him all the time, but it would be good to see him too.”

“I think you’ve had your head so wrapped around this club,” Jeff said, “that you forgot to be someone other than ‘boss’.”

Eddie let out a slow shuddering breath as he pushed away from the bar. “Thanks, Jeffy. I owe you.”

Jeff laughed. “You don’t owe me shit. I love my job and I know there would be no other place in or out of this fucking state that would take a black man as a headlining stripper, let alone one looking like me.”

“Which is a damn shame,” Eddie replied. “Let’s find that Uber of yours and go home.”

Jeff laughed. “You’ve become such a fucking lightweight.”

Eddie pushed him and then wrestled and tussled as they exited the bar.

In the back of the bar one of the cleaners watched them go with a furrowed brow.

~

And don't worry, I haven't forgotten our little cleaner, they'll make an appearance later. ;)

Tag List: ONE SLOT REMAINING

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Last post you talked about your ideal version of canon, I was wondering could you share it with us? If not, that's ok

Oh man, I could go on about my dream version of canon for ages! I've talked about various aspects of it on here with stuff like my "sugar" posts on Nino and Alya, but the broad strokes are:

Serialized story where it's basically one large narrative told in chunks

A true teams setup where Adrien, Marinette, Alya, and Nino feel like this amazing, tight friend group who grows into a found family as they get older, giving platonic and romantic love more equal billing

No guardian order, just have it be a single-person role that gets passed on from person to person

Kagami and Luka in supporting roles that have nothing to do with being love interests

Sympathetic Gabriel who feels like a truly tragic figure, but who does NOT get redeemed

Emilie gets an actual character

No sentinonsense

Revised miracle box that is way smaller and that has strong lore

The Agreste's aquiring the miraculous is far more morally complex, makes sense, and was not done for explicitly selfish reasons

Reverse the love square right from the start and never have the crushes flip

I've talked about all of these things on here, but the one thing that I've only briefly touched on is my love of a reverse square setup. I am passionate about that one, so let's take a moment to talk about why since it's probably going to be the most interesting to read.

I don't hate the canon setup for the crushes, but also I don't think that they're the ideal crushes. When it comes to romance stories, you want to design your love interests around each other. You want them to feel special and like they bring something unique to the table. Canon doesn't really give us that. There's nothing all that special about Adrien that makes him feel like the person that Marinette would be drawn to above all others. Same goes for Chat Noir and Ladybug, but we'll get to them in a second.

What is Marinette's biggest struggle? Her role as Ladybug.

Who is her main support in that role for most of the show? Chat Noir.

Who is her main support on the civilian side even before the reveal? Alya.

So why is Marinette's crush on Adrien and not Chat Noir? I don't know. It's the lesser setup by far and that goes beyond just the logic elements of who it makes the most sense for her to fall in love with. A lot of Marinette's worst behavior actually feels justified in a reverse crush setup, allowing you to write her without major changes to her character.

For example, Marinette keeping a chest of gifts for Adrien is kind of pathetic. She's friends with Adrien and she gives her friends gifts all the time, why can't she give him gifts, too? Reverse the crushes and suddenly this behavior makes perfect sense. Marinette isn't storing up gifts because of overblown fears of rejection. She's storing up gifts for legitimate fears about how her partner will explain these random gifts, thereby risking his identity, meaning that she has a sold argument for waiting until the time is right (post reveal) to give them to him.

There's also the legitimate fear that confessing her love could ruin their dynamic and put Paris at risk. Keeping her feelings to herself is now an act of self-sacrifice and not just an act of nerves. Basically everything about Marinette's hesitance just makes so much more sense if it's on the hero side.

But what about Adrien? How does this fix him?

I love the idea of our male romantic lead falling for our female lead because she's bold and brave, but it honestly doesn't fit Adrien's character. He is surrounded by powerful, confrontational women. Nathalie, Chloe, Kagami, Amilie, Audrey, and Tomoe are all no-nonsense women who get what they want. This means that Ladybug doesn't bring something unique to his life. She fits the standard mold. Adrien falling in love with her after she talks down Hawkmoth doesn't feel like the right choice for his character because it doesn't feel like something he'd be wildly impressed by.

Meanwhile, Marinette is shown to be a generally wonderful friend. She cares about others and will do what she can to make them feel welcome and accepted. That's a much more unique thing for Adrien to experience. Think about the umbrella scenes and imagine if it was Marinette apologizing. Marinette owning that she treated him poorly and asking his forgiveness. How often do you think Adrien gets moments like that? Doesn't it make more sense for something like that to make his heart flutter?

We see Marinette doing things like making banners to celebrate her friends (Timebreaker) and making sure everyone feels included (Reflekta). Imagine her giving Adrien that kind of treatment because it's just who Marinette is. She shows up to his fencing matches to cheer him on. Brings him his favorite snacks as a treat just because, surrounding this poor boy in honest, genuine love and support. Add in respect, too, and he'd be a goner because those are the things that he's not getting anywhere else! The things that make Marinette unique.

This brings us to our new civilian dynamic. In canon, it's Marinette failing to confess in ever more spectacular ways as Alya tries and fails to help. In a reverse crush setup where everyone is friends without gender barriers, it's things like Adrien coming up with his canon confessions and then watching Alya and Nino react with genuine horror because, dude, you're going to give her a panic attack! No! Bad kitty! Stop that! No confessions until you come up with a plan that we approve of and read at least five books of dating advice because holy shit did homeschooling do you dirty in this area!

Then, while Adrien is working to learn how dating works, he learns that Marinette is in love with Chat Noir and, oh no! He thinks she's into his public persona, totally unaware that she knows the real Chat Noir and loves his dorky self. So he tries to emulate his sexy alter ego while Nino and Alya suffer and Marinette is just generally confused because she doesn't think of Chat Noir like that, so she doesn't even notice what Adrien is doing.

This also adds a nice mitigating factor to Adrien's unwillingness to give up even though it's pretty clear that Marinette isn't interested in his civilian self. If he knows that she loves him, then his persistence is less concerning and more comedic. It's not that he can't take a no, it's that he honestly knows with 100% certainty that the answer is NOT no because she's told him that to his face. He just needs her to realize that the guy she's in love with is right here, ready and willing!

The potential for comedy is just so much more broad and so much less mean spirited because Marinette has none of Adrien's reserved nature, so her friends would totally know about her massive "celebrity crush". Adrien comes over for school projects and just stares longingly at her Chat Noir posters, wishing he could tell her his secret, but knowing that he can't.

In my world, that is so much more fun than canon's setup where Marinette has no reason to hope. I also wouldn't draw the crushes out anywhere near as long as canon did. I like getting couples together in the mid-game. It's a nice early plot to hook you in, but defeating the villain is the end game, so we don't need to draw the romance out that long. Romance isn't that special. It's not all that different from an arc about two characters becoming friends.

That's far from the only major change I'd make to shape canon into my ideal version, but it is the probably the change that I love the most. It's also the change that requires the least context to explain, so there you go!

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

That person on the US address debacle post... why are they simultaneously not defining "penpal", but expecting the US to be the only country with penpals? Which is it? Do they think everyone else has this experience or not?

Like, it so illustrates the overall problem. They must know it's not just a US thing (domestic mail, pen pals, not learning 100% of required knowledge in primary school, states and provinces, etc). Why are they holding on so tightly to the idea that these things are unique to them while giving away that they know it's not true in the same breath?

I think their claim was that their country's penpals are other people in the US and they're assuming that other countries all have penpals in different countries? So everyone else all learns to write international letters in school (to talk to their international penpals) but in the US they don't learn that (because they're talking to US penpals) and that's why grown arse adults ordering things from overseas shouldn't be expected to remember to include their country if it's the USA? But you'd have to ask them, not me. I'm not gonna get into talking behind people's backs about random stuff I might have misinterpreted them saying on a Tumblr post. Ask them.

[wilcze-kudly]

Someone once said Aang and Katara’s romantic interactions have no impact on their relationship. Which I find a ridiculous notion, given how

One: The Series genuinely wasn’t built around romance.

Two: We do gradually see the characters develop feelings for each other more across the show.

https://www.tumblr.com/melu-lis/762094698681745408/one-of-the-most-baffling-thing-about-kataang-to-me?source=share

Honestly, the fact that Katara and Aang's relationship has that strong aspect of friendship is one of my fave parts of it.

Like, maybe this is an unpopular opinion and I'm just a degenerate little dyke but I'm so so tired of romances having to follow the typical usually heterosexual conventions that have been set ib place both irl and in media.

And not to sound like an old man shaking my fist at a cloud, but in an era where romance is very standardised (look at the plethora of YA romance books selling basically the same plotline but in different aesthetics). It's nice to find a relationship that doesn't fully fit that mold.

Like people have joked about this but Aang and Katara really do follow the famously memed lesbian relationship stereotype of "we've been besties for ages and we've kissed a few times and she's said she loves me and I'm starting to think she's into me but idk". And I love that for them.

Also OP's examples aren't really saying much. They mention that "sokka learns that aang has a crush on katara in the fortuneteller, but we never see aang trying to get advice from sokka after he learns about it" while disregarding the fact that Aang did try to get advice from Sokka, and it backfired. Did we all forget "Soooo... papaya?" (also Sokka didn't realise that Aang had a crush on Katara? He thought Aang had a crush on Meng.)

Another argument from OP is that: "aang and katara kiss in the cave of two lovers but we never see katara's perception of aang change at all" which I find a bit of a flawed idea because there's not really anything in Katara's perception of Aang to change? Like she was already seeing him as a viable romantic partner from at least the Fortune Teller, she was blushing when considering kissing him and offended when he didn't immediately agree to it.

(I actually think this is the moment where Sokka realises there's something between Katara and Aang man look athis face.)

We do not see Katara's pov, but we can pick up her thoughts from how she's animated and other clues because atla makes it quite easy to emphasise with its characters. I talk more about it in the Kaatang and female gaze post.

OP using the description of "natural development of a platonic relationship becoming a romantic one" is also mildy annoting because just because a romance doesn't follow established conventions and timelines, doesn't mean that it's not natural or badly written. We study tropes and aechetypes usually in order to subvert them.

The concept that romance has to be a series of events followed by switches flipping automatically in response is incredibly limiting and, frankly, overdone. I can see the appeal of romantic stories being a series of actions and reactions between two people, but I personally find a slow, budding development even more compelling. But once again, thsi is up to preference. If OP doesn't like this style of romance, than that's fine. Though I will stress the golden rule: your preference doesn't mean that everything else is bad/unnatural/unethical etc.

[thighzp]

WIP Wednesday and of course I'm back with more Vampire Alex! Good news (that I'm announcing for accountability purposes)... this fic will be posted NEXT WEEK! (Don't know what day yet so be on the lookout!)

I have some really exciting stuff lined up once this baby is finished and posted. This will be the longest fic I've ever written once it's finally done, and what's to come is going to be an entirely new adventure for us as well! (That announcement will come in a couple weeks)

Okay without further ado, y'all can thank @firstprincehornyramblings & @tailsbeth-writes for the early af tags today!

Two sudden, sharp pains dug right into where the throbbing had been earlier, and he found himself slipping. Fuzzy mental images of the party danced across his vision while the man dug those pointed nails in deeper. Henry felt a tickle where there was a droplet of what he could only assume was blood pouring from his neck. He’d have thought he’d be more scared to know the man was drawing his blood. But instead… Instead he leaned into the feeling, the dizziness. As his head became more empty of blood, his heavy eyelids trying to flutter open, he could see the man’s dark gaze as he watched the droplet. The brunette licked his lips at the sight. Fuck, Henry thought. Why is this doing it for me?

love giving you guys snippets from all over the place cause you have no idea the order of events of this thing lmao

tagging: @taste-thewaste @onthewaytosomewhere @judasofsuburbia @catdadacd @caterpills

@pinkamour1588 @sophie1973 @kiwiana-writes @porcelainmortal

@bitbybitwrites @stratocumulusperlucidus @sugarycloud1

[great-and-small]

Your blog is lovely and I love learning things from it and when you talk about native or non native plants and such, but I wanted to ask; How do you know which is which?

Are there specific search terms I can use to find out for my own area? or books?

I like teaching myself stuff, but this is one of those things that I have no idea where to start really

Love this question! Truthfully I am still very much a novice at identifying the vast majority of plants and animals out there, but I am constantly making use of the information at my disposal in order to learn more. We are so lucky to have such a wealth of knowledge about the natural world so close at hand!

I have a bachelors in biology with a focus in conservation, but even so I would say that a majority of my field identification skills are self-taught. I cannot recommend enough utilizing citizen science apps to get familiar with your native fauna!

I once spent a single summer where I challenged myself to take a photo of every single animal (bird, insect, fish, etc) that I couldn’t identify by name. I would post the images on an app like iNatualist or another reliable identification forum, and once I had a name I’d do a little research to learn more about my neighbor. This is how I came to recognize quite a few introduced species that have made my ecosystem home.

If you ever find yourself with a little extra time (+/- money) on your hands, you could also consider taking an adult naturalist class. If you happen to live in the United States for example, most states have a certified master naturalist program that anyone over the age of 18 can sign up for to learn about the local ecosystems. This would be a fun, if a little more involved, way of getting familiar with your local flora and fauna.

[serickswrites]

Hey :)

Can you write a fic where whumpee is new to the team and has a dark mysterioys past - so when their framed as a traitor the team believes them.There beaten up by some members of team despite protests of not being the traitor and given to whumper o put in custody who posses as a good person and planned it all to have them.

The team eventually uncovers the truth that whumper is bad and is actually the traitir-however whumper already tortured whumpee-sexually assaulting them,branding their name into their arm.When they break into whumper's place-whimper is already dead courtesy if whumpee who managed to free thrmselvez and kill them-however they collapse upon seeing their team.

The team us guilt ridden and doesn't know how to make amends and team leader feels like a failure

It's ok if your not interested in doing it♡

Anon, Anon, Anon! When I tell you that I have had an idea like this on my back burner for a while, I cannot tell you how long it has sat there. I have scrapped this story twice. But, because you are voicing exactly what I wanted to write several times, I'm going to do this. This is a series and will be posted under the title "Monster"

Please enjoy!

Warnings: betrayal, physical violence, unconsciousness, captivity, restraints

"Leave your weapon on the table," Team Leader said coldly as they watched Smallest Teammate.

Smallest Teammate was confusion. What had happened? Team Leader never talked to them like this. "What, I don't understand? What--"

"Put your weapon on the table," Team Leader ordered.

"We know who you really are," Teammate One hissed.

Smallest Teammate's mouth went dry. "I can explain, let me--"

"You sold us out!" Teammate Two stepped forward angrily. "You sold us out after we accepted you!"

Before Smallest Teammate could open their mouth, Teammate Two swung, their fist connecting with Smallest Teammate's cheek. Smallest Teammate didn't try to fight back. They hunched over themself as Teammate Two and Teammate Three surged forward.

"You sold us out!"

"How could you!"

"Whumper revealed exactly who you are!"

Teammate One's words froze Smallest Teammate's heart. Whumper. Whumper had infiltrated the team. Whumper had found them. "I'm not....Whumper....they..." Smallest Teammate couldn't get a good word in as the team was unrelenting in their beating.

"I don't want to hear another lie from you," Team Leader said, their voice very close. Smallest Teammate could see them through the flailing limbs of their team. "You lied to all of us. You lied to me. And you sold us, all of us, out."

"Pl-Pl-Please," Smallest Teammate tried. Their body hurt. Everything hurt. The team was relentless in their beating. If they fought back, they would prove Whumper right. And so they had to hope that the team wouldn't kill them.

"Whumper has graciously offered to take you off our hands and turn you into the proper authorities," Team Leader sneered as they stared down at Smallest Teammate. "They will be here soon to collect you."

And though Smallest Teammate wanted to respond, wanted to beg for mercy. They couldn't. The darkness that had edged their vision for so long as becoming all consuming. They could only hope that Team Leader would realize their mistake sooner rather than later. And that Whumper wouldn't kill them yet.

Tags: @acer-whumpstuff

[crispy-ghee]

Things I am sure about re: dumb ass Larry and Magic Pacific Rim AU thoughts, some of which I've stolen from what people said in that previous post:

They did not want to test with each other. People did not really think they'd be compatible anyway, but those two certainly did not.

Larry is a great pilot, but is also incredibly particular with who he pilots with. After his last partner(s?) were taken out of action (by death or by injury), he has almost summarily refused any attempt to pair him up with anyone new. There are very very few people he would allow in his head.

As a result of this, Larry "technically" is available as a pilot, but a lot of folks consider him retired. He yearns to be useful though, so he takes some other job in the shatterdome -- either working maintenance on the jaegers, or even less glamorous jobs than that. He would very happily work janitorial, to be honest.

Magic is a great pilot as well (a prodigy, pretty much), but is hard for others to keep up with, and while he is compatible with most people, maintaining a full drift is difficult with him. After losing his teammates, brass has been struggling to find someone to partner up with him.

Larry is ordered to test with him because he's one of the last people left who hasn't done it yet.

To most people's utter confusion and bemusement, the two work together almost seamlessly.

And stuff I'm less sure about:

Were the two in "competition" with each other beforehand? In that unofficial stats-and-kills based bravado sort of way. Did they have that kind of a history?

Amused at the idea that Larry might've known they would be compatible and specifically dodged testing with Magic up until the last moment because he didn't want him in his head

Maybe their previous jaegers got destroyed?

Maybe they were thrown together in an almost emergency situation, it had to happen.

lol basketball as a way to strengthen their partnership/compatibility

jaeger names, hoo boy