#Beachfront art shows

[spedalejrphotography]

Your Guide to Panama City Beach Florida Vacations

Your 2024 Guide to Panama City Beach, Florida. Learn more & don't miss out.

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[bettys-redwinesupernova]

ANIMALS

inspired by the song ‘Animals’ by Maroon 5.

rafe cameron x kook!fem!reader

SUMMARY: in a world where obsession blurs the lines between love and hate, Y/N and rafe cameron are locked in a toxic game of desire and dominance. as the tension between them reaches a boiling point, rafe’s possessiveness and Y/N’s defiance threaten to expose the truth—some animals can’t resist the hunt.

based on this ask !! i hope this is everything you asked for anon, and i’m so so sorry it’s taken so long, i took a cheeky writing break !!🫣 you didn’t specify if you wanted smut or not, but you can stop just before the smut when they get to the bedroom if you wish <3

WARNINGS: lighthearted angst, enemies w/ benefits, smut (18+ mdni!), alcohol consumption, slut-shaming (?), bitchy!reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it before ya tap it!), doggy style (bent over vanity), rough sex, manhandling (😝), hair pulling, jealous!rafe, reader throws a drink on rafe. (i think that’s it? lmk if i missed anything !!)

A/N: you can imagine any era rafe during this, but i do mention him having hair as reader pulls it, but i do see buzz cut!rafe in this too😫

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

THIRD PERSON +

The summer air was thick with humidity, the nights heavy with tension on the Outer Banks. Parties spilled onto beachfronts and estates, bonfires lighting up the endless skies. Y/N had the world at her feet—a true Kook princess with her sharp tongue, dazzling smile, and a touch of venom.

She played her cards perfectly, commanding the room wherever she went.

Rafe Cameron, however, was her shadow—a predator who stalked the edges of her light. He was trouble wrapped in an expensive polo, a cocktail of entitlement, rage, and obsession. The two of them didn’t get along in public. They’d perfected the art of bickering, their sharp remarks drawing laughter from Kooks and Pogues alike.

But beneath the surface, there was something darker, something intoxicating they could never resist.

—

The party was in full swing at Tannyhill, the gilded walls reflecting the warm glow of the chandelier overhead. Kooks milled about, drinks in hand, laughter echoing off the high ceilings. Y/N leaned casually against the marble counter in the kitchen, a glass of champagne dangling from her manicured fingers. She looked every bit the spoiled, self-assured girl everyone knew her to be—her designer dress clinging to her figure like a second skin, her lips painted in a deep shade that matched the smug smirk on her face.

Across the room, Rafe Cameron leaned against the doorway, his sharp jawline tightening as he watched her. He hated how she always seemed so effortlessly in control, like she knew exactly how to drive him crazy. He hated it even more when she turned her head and caught his eye, her smirk widening into something far more dangerous.

"Staring much, Cameron?" Y/N called out, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rafe pushed off the doorframe, weaving through the crowd with the precision of a predator closing in on his prey. He came to a stop inches away from her, his blue eyes locking onto hers. "Can you blame me? You make it impossible not to look."

Y/N arched an eyebrow, unfazed by his proximity. "Careful, Rafe. Your obsession is showing."

His lips curved into a smirk, but there was nothing playful about it. "Obsession? Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I'm just curious how someone so perfect at pretending to be untouchable keeps ending up in my bed."

Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but she recovered quickly. "Must be all that champagne. Makes it hard to remember mistakes."

Rafe leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Mistake? We both know I'm the only thing you can't resist. You're just too proud to admit it."

Y/N's stomach twisted, but she refused to let him see how much his words affected her. She tilted her head, her voice as cold as ice. "Funny, I don't recall needing to admit anything to you."

Before Rafe could respond, JJ appeared at her side, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "Hey, pretty girl. Thought you'd ditched us for your old Kook crowd."

Rafe's jaw tightened, his glare shifting to JJ. "Don't you have a surfboard to wax or something, Pogue?"

JJ ignored him, flashing Y/N a grin. "Let's get out of here. This party's dead."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting to Rafe, whose expression darkened. She knew exactly what she was doing when she looped her arm through JJ's and started toward the door.

"Don't go too far, Y/N," Rafe called after her, his voice low and threatening. "You can run, but you'll always end up right back here."

—

The night air was cool as Y/N sat on the dock, the soft lapping of the water providing a brief reprieve from the chaos of the party. She'd barely been there for five minutes when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" she said without turning around.

Rafe dropped down beside her, his knees brushing hers. "You're really testing my patience tonight."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "What, did JJ's existence bruise your fragile ego?"

"You think this is a joke?" Rafe growled, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "I see the way you act around Maybann. Like you're trying to piss me off on purpose."

She yanked her face away, her voice sharp. "Maybe I am. Ever think about that?"

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. Instead, he leaned back, his smirk returning. "Go ahead, keep playing your little games. But we both know how this ends."

"Enlighten me," she said dryly.

Rafe's voice dropped to a whisper, his hand brushing against her cheek. "You can't run from me, Y/N. You belong to me, whether you like it or not. And no Pogue or party can change that."

The tension crackled between them like a live wire. She hated how much his words got to her, how his touch sent shivers down her spine. But she'd be damned if she let him win.

"Is that so?" she said sweetly, picking up her glass and tossing the bubbly contents into his face.

The champagne dripped from his hair, and for a moment, the shock on his face was enough to make her burst out laughing. But then his lips curled into a dangerous smile, and she knew she'd made a mistake.

"You're gonna regret that," Rafe said, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N stood, her confidence unshaken. "Try me, Cameron."

As she walked away, swaying her hips a little more than usual, she could feel his eyes burning into her back. She knew she was playing with fire, but part of her loved the thrill of it. She and Rafe were two sides of the same coin, locked in a game neither of them could quit.

Because deep down, she knew he was right. No matter how far she ran, he'd always find her. And part of her didn't want him to stop.

—

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the beach outside The Wreck, where Y/N sat at a picnic table surrounded by her friends. Sarah was leaning back on the bench, sunglasses perched on her nose, while Kie propped her chin on her hand, animatedly recounting a story. Cleo chuckled beside her, and Y/N's two Kook friends, Taylor and Malia, leaned in with interest, their perfectly styled hair catching the light.

The scene was serene, a picture-perfect group of girls enjoying themselves on the edge of paradise. But Y/N couldn't focus. Across the sandy expanse, near a beat-up truck surrounded by Kooks, Rafe Cameron stood with Topper, Kelce, and a couple of others, the unmistakable swagger in his stance making him impossible to ignore.

Y/N sipped her iced tea, letting her gaze flicker toward him briefly. He was watching her—had been since the moment she arrived. His intense blue eyes tracked her every move, smoldering with a mix of anger, desire, and something darker. She could feel his stare like a physical touch, and though it sent a shiver down her spine, she wasn't about to let him win.

"Y/N, hello?" Kie waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Kook Barbie. You're zoning out."

Y/N snapped her attention back to the group, giving Kie a lazy smile. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Forget it," Kie said, rolling her eyes. "You've got that look again."

"What look?" Y/N asked innocently, toying with the straw in her glass.

Sarah smirked. "The one you get when my brother is around. Don't think we didn't notice."

"Oh, please," Y/N said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Like I care about whatever Rafe is doing."

Cleo raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across her face. "You might not care, but he sure does. Dude's been staring at you like he wants to devour you."

Y/N scoffed but didn't deny it. Before she could come up with a cutting remark, their waiter approached—a new guy, tall and tanned with a charming smile, and black curls sitting atop his head. He carried a tray of drinks with ease, his eyes lighting up when they landed on Y/N.

"Afternoon, ladies," he said, setting the tray down. "Your drinks, courtesy of...well, me."

Kie raised a brow. "My parents own this place. You don't have to do that."

The waiter grinned, but his attention stayed on Y/N. "Consider it a perk of working here."

The girls giggled, and Y/N leaned back in her seat, tilting her head. "Wow, how generous," she said, her tone teasing.

"It's not every day I get to serve someone like you," the waiter replied smoothly.

Y/N feigned shock, her hand fluttering to her chest. "Someone like me? You mean, devastatingly gorgeous and completely out of your league?"

The girls burst into laughter, and even the waiter chuckled, though his cheeks flushed a little. "I wouldn't say out of my league," he shot back with a wink.

Y/N could practically feel Rafe's glare burning into her from across the beach, and that knowledge made her smirk grow. She leaned forward slightly, giving the waiter her full attention. "Careful," she said, her voice low and sweet. "Flattery might just get you somewhere."

The poor guy was about to respond when the door to The Wreck slammed open, and in walked Rafe, flanked by Topper, Kelce, and the other Kooks. Their arrival was loud, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the restaurant.

"Oh, for the love of God," Sarah muttered, pulling her sunglasses down. "What are they doing here?"

"They're like cockroaches," Taylor grumbled. "You can't get rid of them."

The boys took a table near the girls, Rafe purposefully sitting with a clear view of Y/N. She didn't miss the way his gaze flicked to the waiter, who had quickly retreated to the kitchen, and then back to her. His jaw was tight, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table.

"Y/N," Rafe called, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Having fun?"

Y/N turned her head slowly, fixing him with a bored expression. "Immensely. Thanks for asking."

Topper snickered, leaning back in his chair. "You sure about that? Looked like your new boyfriend was trying a little too hard."

"Jealous, Top?" Y/N shot back, her tone saccharine sweet. "I didn't think I was your type."

Rafe's smirk widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What's the matter, Y/N? You settling for waiters now?"

The girls groaned audibly, Malia muttering, "Here we go."

Y/N leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she met Rafe's gaze head-on. "What's the matter, Rafe? Can't handle a little competition?"

"There's no competition," he shot back, his voice dripping with confidence. "We both know how this ends."

The tension between them was palpable, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. Kie looked ready to intervene, but Sarah grabbed her arm, shaking her head.

"You're delusional," Y/N said, her voice sharp. "Just because you can't handle rejection doesn't mean I'm going to cater to your bruised ego."

Rafe leaned back in his chair, his smirk unwavering. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But we both know the truth."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Y/N's cheeks felt warm, but whether it was from anger or something else, she couldn't tell.

"Let's go," Kie said firmly, grabbing Y/N's arm.

Y/N stood abruptly, glaring at Rafe. "You're pathetic, Cameron. Enjoy your boys' club."

As the girls filed out, Y/N could feel Rafe's eyes on her, his stare as possessive and unyielding as ever.

Back at their table, Topper and Kelce were laughing, but Rafe wasn't paying attention. His mind was elsewhere, his fists clenching as he replayed the interaction with the waiter. Without a word, he got up and made his way to the kitchen.

The waiter was leaning against the counter when Rafe approached, his towering presence immediately unsettling.

"Hey," Rafe said, his voice low and menacing.

The waiter looked up, his brow furrowing. "Uh, can I help you?"

Rafe stepped closer, his gaze cold. "Yeah. Stay the hell away from Y/N."

The waiter blinked, confused. "What? Dude, I was just—"

"You were just what?" Rafe interrupted, his voice rising. "Flirting with her? Trying to impress her? Let me make this clear: she's mine. So back off. You so much as even breathe near her, I will be the reason you never will again. Got it?”

The waiter raised his hands in surrender, clearly shaken. "Alright, man. Chill. I didn't know she was...yours."

Rafe smirked, satisfied. "Now you do. Keep it that way."

As he walked back to his table, Rafe felt a grim sense of satisfaction. Y/N could play her little games, but he'd always win. She was his—whether she admitted it or not.

—

The bass thumped through the walls of Y/N's sprawling Figure 8 estate, the music so loud it felt like it shook the floor beneath Rafe's feet. The party was in full swing, her infamous gatherings never failing to attract the entire island—Kooks and Pogues alike. For one night, the divide that separated them blurred under the haze of expensive liquor, pulsating lights, and deafening music.

Rafe leaned against the bar in the corner of the room, nursing a drink he hadn't touched in the last hour. His usual cocky smirk was absent, replaced by a scowl that deepened every time someone brushed past him. He told himself he didn't care about Y/N's party, didn't care that she was in the same house, probably doing everything she could to piss him off.

But he was lying to himself, and he knew it.

For days, he'd been ignoring her, hoping distance would dull the fire she sparked in him. He knew his obsession with her was spiraling out of control, consuming him like a predator stalking its prey. But Y/N wasn't just prey—she was a fighter, stubborn and untouchable, and it made the hunt all the more maddening.

Kelce leaned against the bar beside him, talking about something Rafe wasn't listening to. His mind was too preoccupied with the faint sound of Y/N's laugh echoing through the house, the mental image of her smile, the way she always seemed to dance just out of his reach.

"Bro, you need to see this," Topper suddenly said, his voice cutting through Rafe's thoughts.

Rafe turned his head, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

Topper grinned, motioning toward the living room. "Y/N's losing her mind right now. Dancing on a table. You have to see it."

Rafe's jaw tightened, his fingers curling around the red solo cup in his hand. Topper didn't notice, too busy grabbing Kelce and a couple of others to follow him.

"C'mon, man," Topper called over his shoulder.

Rafe hesitated for a split second before downing the rest of his drink and shoving off the bar. His feet carried him toward the living room almost involuntarily, like he was drawn to her by some magnetic force.

When he stepped into the room, the scene in front of him made his blood boil.

Y/N was on top of a table in the center of the room, the crowd around her cheering and chanting her name. The bass-heavy beat of a Weeknd song pulsed through the air as she moved, her body swaying in a way that was both hypnotic and infuriating. Her dress—a tiny black number that clung to her curves and barely grazed her thighs—left little to the imagination. She ran her hands down her body as she dropped low to the beat, the crowd around her cheering and whistling.

Rafe's grip on his drink tightened, the nearly empty plastic cup crumpling slightly under the pressure. He hated this. He hated the way everyone was looking at her, like she was a piece of meat. He hated the way his sister, Sarah, and her Pogue friends were egging her on, cheering her as she danced.

But most of all, he hated the way Y/N's eyes found his in the crowd, her lips curling into a smirk as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

"She's so hot," Topper said beside him, nudging Kelce. "Like, insanely hot."

"Shut up," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp enough to make them both flinch.

"What's your problem?" Kelce asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe didn't answer. His attention was locked on Y/N, who had leaned down to respond to something JJ said. The way she bent over, laughing and tossing her hair, gave JJ a perfect view of her exposed chest. Rafe saw red.

Without thinking, he shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and whispers that followed him. By the time he reached the table, Y/N was already watching him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Y/N," he barked, his voice cutting through the music. "Get your ass down here. Now."

She tilted her head, pretending not to hear him. "What was that?" she called, cupping her ear mockingly as she continued to dance.

"I said get down," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the makeshift pole on the table. "No, I don't think I will."

The crowd around them had started to notice the interaction, whispers spreading quickly. Why was Rafe Cameron, of all people, telling Y/N what to do? Everyone knew they hated each other—or at least, they were supposed to.

"Y/N," he growled, his patience wearing thin. "I'm not playing games. Get down."

"And I'm not taking orders," she shot back, her voice dripping with defiance.

The Pogues exchanged glances, their confusion evident. Even Sarah looked unsure, her eyes darting between her brother and her friend.

Rafe had enough. In one swift motion, he grabbed Y/N by the waist and slung her over his shoulder, ignoring her gasp of surprise.

"Rafe, what the hell?!" she shouted, kicking her legs as he pushed through the crowd. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he muttered, his grip like steel, holding the minimal fabric of her dress to keep her ass covered from the hungry eyes of partygoers.

The crowd parted as he stormed upstairs, the whispers following them like a shadow. Y/N's protests continued, but deep down, she reveled in the attention. She knew what this was—a game of dominance, one she had no intention of losing.

When they reached her room, Rafe punched in the code to the keypad with practiced ease. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind them before setting her down.

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem?" he shot back, his voice loud and angry. "What the hell was that downstairs?"

"That was me having fun," she retorted, stepping closer to him. "What's it to you?"

"You call that fun? Parading yourself around like a damn stripper?"

"Oh, spare me the lecture, Rafe," she snapped. "You don't own me."

"Don't I?" he countered, his voice low and dangerous.

Her breath hitched, but she didn't back down. "No, you don't. And the fact that you think you do is pathetic."

The tension between them was suffocating, their faces inches apart as they glared at each other.

"You drive me insane," Rafe muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

"Good," she shot back.

Before she could say anything else, his lips crashed against hers, the kiss rough and desperate. She melted into him for a moment before pushing him back.

"This doesn't mean you win," she whispered, her voice breathless.

Rafe smirked, his hands gripping her waist. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."

Rafe used Y/N’s brief moment of weakness to his advantage, and manoeuvred her body towards the large king-sized bed in her room. He gripped her wrists in one of his hands, Y/N instantly struggling in his grip.

"You’re such a fucking brat," Rafe growled, his hands tightening around her wrists as he pinned her to the bed. Y/N's back hit the soft mattress with a soft thud, her chest rising and falling as she glared up at him, her lips swollen from his bruising kiss.

"And you're a possessive asshole," she shot back, her voice sharp despite the way her body betrayed her, arching into his touch. "But you're my possessive asshole."

Rafe's smirk was dark, predatory, as he released her hands. "Damn right I am."

He leaned down, his lips grazing her ear, his voice a low, dangerous purr that sent shivers down her spine. "You think you can keep playing games with me? You think you're in control?" His teeth nipped at her earlobe, and she gasped, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his back.

"I'm always in control," she breathed, but the tremor in her voice gave her away.

Before Rafe could respond, she bucked her hips, using the momentum to flip them over. She straddled him, her hands pressed against his chest, her hair falling in a wild curtain around her face.

"See?" she said, tilting her head with a smirk. "I'm calling the shots here."

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing the black fabric of her dress up, gripping her hips with a bruising force. "You keep telling yourself that, princess."

Their lips crashed together again, the kiss fierce and unrelenting. Y/N's hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, while Rafe's fingers dug into her skin, leaving marks that she knew she'd wear like a badge of honour in her designer bikini’s.

They were a mess of tangled limbs and heated breaths, their bodies moving in a desperate rhythm that was as much about dominance as it was about pleasure. Y/N's nails raked down his now bare chest, and Rafe retaliated by flipping her onto her back once more, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that made her head spin.

"You're mine," he muttered against her skin, his voice rough with need. "You've always been mine."

"Keep dreaming," she scoffed, but the way her body responded to him—arching into his touch, her legs tightening around his waist—told a whole different story.

Rafe pulled back, his eyes locking with hers. The intensity in his gaze was overwhelming, and for a moment, Y/N felt like she couldn't breathe. "Look at you," he said, his voice low and filled with a raw hunger that made her shiver. "You're a fucking mess for me, and you hate it."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off with a kiss that left her dizzy. His hands moved to her waist, lifting her effortlessly as he stood, carrying her to the vanity in the corner of the room.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

Rafe didn't answer. Instead, he set her down on the edge of the vanity, his hands gripping her hips as he manhandled her body around to face herself in the mirror. "Look at yourself," he ordered, his voice firm.

Y/N hesitated, her eyes flicking to the reflection in front of her. Her hair was disheveled, her lips swollen, her skin flushed, the thin straps of her dress hanging off her shoulders exposing the lace of her bra, the fabric of her dress crumpled up by her hips. She looked... wrecked.

And it was all because of him.

"See?" Rafe's voice was a low growl in her ear, his hands trailing down her sides. "This is what you do to me. This is what I do to you."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her lips as his hands moved to the back of her thighs, spreading them apart. His lips pressed against the curve of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her gasp. Rafe moved the thin lace fabric of her thong to the side, middle and ring finger running through the wetness in between her thighs, Y/N shuddering as he brushed over her clit.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this. So fucking wet all for me," he muttered, his voice thick with need. "All mine."

Y/N's breath hitched as he positioned himself behind her, his hands deftly undoing his belt then undoing the button and zip on his pants, pulling them down enough to expose his rigid cock. The sheer girth and length of it never failing to surprise Y/N.

Rafe gripped her hips with a possessiveness that made her heart race. "You're such an egomaniac," she managed to say, though her voice was breathless.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against her ear. "And you love it."

Before she could respond, he thrust into her, the sudden fullness making her cry out. Her hands gripped the edge of the vanity, her eyes locking with his in the mirror.

"Keep your eyes open," Rafe ordered, his voice rough. "I want you to see what I do to you."

Y/N's breath came in short gasps as he moved inside her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. She tried to hold his gaze, but the intensity was too much, and she had to look away, her head falling forward as a borderline pornographic moan escaped her lips.

Rafe's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back up. "I said, keep your fucking eyes open," he growled, his voice filled with a command that she couldn't ignore.

She met his gaze in the mirror, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as she panted. The sight of him behind her, his eyes dark with desire, his hands gripping her hips with a possessiveness that made her heart race, was almost too much to bear.

"See that?" Rafe muttered, his voice low and filled with a raw hunger that mirrored her own. "That's you. That's what I do to you."

Y/N's nails dug into the edge of the vanity as he thrust into her again, the force of it making her cry out. She could feel herself unraveling, the pleasure building inside her with each harsh thrust Rafe delivered, but she refused to give in, refused to let him have the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart.

"You're such a bastard," she managed to say, though her voice was shaky.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against her ear. "And you're such a brat. But you're my brat."

His hand moved between her legs, his fingers finding her clit, moving in swift circles that made her gasp, and she couldn't hold back any longer. Her body arched into his touch, her eyes locking with his in the mirror as she came undone, her moans filling the room as her pussy clenched around Rafe.

Rafe didn't stop, his movements growing more frantic as he chased his own release. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her back into him with a force that made her gasp. The sounds of slick skin colliding and gasps and moans were the only sound in the room, and Y/N was thankfully for the bass-heavy music that was playing downstairs, meaning nobody could hear them.

"You're mine," he muttered, his voice rough with need. "You've always been mine."

And as he spilled inside her, his lips pressing against her neck in a bruising kiss, Y/N couldn't help but think that maybe—just maybe—he was right.

She is his, and he is hers.

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i had SO much fun writing this one !! there’s something about writing such a bad bitch character and she reminds me so much of a character from a wattpad fic i wrote a while ago😫

anyways, i hope you enjoy this anon !! and i hope this was what you asked for :) as always, please like and reblog and comment your thoughts !! <3

[rotworld]

7: Night Shift

art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises

you work in one of the tourist traps along a popular beach pier known for its party scene. it's a night like any other. you have no idea about the unusual party crashers who are about to show up and ruin everything.

->original work. explicit; contains non-con, graphic descriptions of violence, feral behavior, hard vore, mind control, terato, non-human genitalia.

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Last week, it was “Greek Gods of the Sea.” Togas and tridents, mostly, some seashell bikinis, a few fake beards stuffed with plastic starfish. They drank too much and cranked the music too loud, but that’s nothing new. Everyone knows what to expect from the Lucky Rock Pier Party People Association (“Lurpppa” to the local news, “Trouble at Ten O’Clock” to your fellow boardwalk employees, “Those Fucking Kids” to beachfront property owners). 

You wear headphones most nights anyway, desperate to keep the shrill, repetitive carnival songs of the pier funhouse from being seared into your brain. They don’t bother you much because the sign at the front says there’s no bathroom and all the hot dogs and funnel cakes are further down the boardwalk, but a few will trickle in just for something to do. If they spot the freezer, they’ll huddle around the glass and stare like the Mona Lisa’s in there, agonizing over a choice between an ice cream sandwich or fruit pops. 

Tonight, it’s a glow party. Neon beach balls and glow stick arches. You can’t hear the noise they’re making through your headphones but you can feel the bass throbbing through your feet. Someone’s probably going to call the cops again. The tourist family population retreats this time of night so it’s just you, the handful of shops still open this late, and Trouble at Ten O’Clock. This one’s more fun to watch, at least, bright and colorful like the spill of noctiluca. They’re vivid in glow-in-the-dark body paint, covered in luminescent stripes, swirls and splatters. 

A few of them come stumbling up the pier earlier than usual. Three women in different halter tops, painted with matching curly cues and butterflies on their faces. One of them wanders off to look at the tote bags. Another, much more inebriated, leans heavily against her friend. The designated driver, you assume, who drags her to the freezer to pick out something to eat. You glance down at the beach and see one of them sitting on Lucky Rock, the jagged chunk of stone sticking out of the water not far from shore. You’re not sure how he climbed up the slippery, steep sides but he’s definitely not supposed to be up there. The people on the beach are way too excited about it, gathered around cheering and hollering. 

Three ice cream sandwiches are dropped on the counter in front of you. You lift one side of your headphones and shrieking noise rushes in, the glow party just as raucous as you expected. “Will that be all?” you ask. The woman nods. Her friend starts to fall over and she has to support her weight against her shoulder. You ring up the total and she groans. Everything on the boardwalk is three times the price it should be, but she adds a tote bag when the other woman wanders back with one and tosses their ice cream inside. “Thanks, come again,” you call, sliding your headphones back on.

Ten minutes until closing time. Not much to do but sweep out the sand gathered in the doorway and tidy up the disaster zone a horde of children made of the stuffed animal section. Sharks and dolphins on the top shelf, turtles on the second, fish and starfish on the third—

Something moves in the corner of your eye. Startled, you turn and find a man ambling slowly through the store. A stray from the glow party, you think at first. Then you look again, paying attention this time. He looks like all the partygoers down on the beach, a silhouette with luminescent edges, but he shouldn’t. Not under the store lights. He’s midnight blue from head to toe beneath intricate glowing patterns, chest and shoulders speckled with small dots like cyan freckles with larger spots along his sides. Thin stripes trace the outlines of muscle beneath the skin, turning into a spiral pattern at his hips. 

Which you can see, you realize, because he’s naked. No swim trunks. No speedo. He’s wet and dripping all over the floor like he just crawled out of the water, a puddle slowly growing beneath his feet, and you can follow the course of every droplet as they roll slowly down curves and valleys of lithe swimmer’s muscles. Some of the lines on his torso are moving, you realize. Horizontal squiggles on either side of his abdomen flinch and pulsate. 

Gills, you realize. The pieces come together all at once in your mind. Despite working the boardwalk as long as you have, you’ve never seen a sea muse before. Most people haven’t. They’re skittish, you’ve heard. They prefer quiet coves and grottos, places humans have a harder time reaching. Safer that way if they decide to shed their tail and sun themselves for a while. This one certainly doesn’t seem bothered by the commotion down at the beach, poking through the t-shirt rack with long, clawed fingers. He doesn’t look much like the pictures you’ve seen, either, but all the pictures are of muses lurking in tropical reefs, big-finned and colorful like bettas. Beautiful like him, but not bioluminescent and not quite so large. He must come from deeper, colder waters. 

You set down a stuffed octopus as gently as you can but he hears it, turning swiftly to face you. Your heart races. He has the large, eerie eyes of an abyssal creature, glowing half-moons gleaming underneath wide silver irises and black sclera. Nobody prepared you for what to do in this situation. Do you play dead? Raise your arms and make noise to scare him off? What you mistook for slicked back hair is some kind of shimmery membrane. It flares out like the neck flap of a cobra in a threat display, but it starts to sag and flatten the longer you stare at each other. His eyes move slightly in their wide sockets, looking you over head to toe. 

An uncannily human smile spreads across his face. He makes some odd gestures towards you. His mouth moves. He’s talking, you realize, trying to communicate. You almost lift your headphones off but your brain catches up at the last second. You don’t know a lot about sea muses but you know enough to keep your ears covered. 

He blinks, staring at you in almost comical wide-eyed confusion. Then he smirks, his gills fluttering with laughter. He starts pacing back and forth, slowly inching closer like a shark circling prey in the water. He’s between you and the door so you inch towards the register counter instead. Maybe you can slip out the back? 

He stops suddenly, leaving some distance between you. He speaks again, tapping the side of his head and pointing at you. You shake your head and he frowns, but he doesn’t give up. You watch, morbid curiosity overpowering your fear, as he starts to move in a slow, seductive manner. It’s some kind of dance, you think, arching his back and extending the membrane on his head again, bioluminescence glittering on thin, translucent flesh. He holds your gaze as he runs a hand down the center of his chest, over his stomach, down to his pelvis and—

You’re not entirely sure what you expected to see between his legs, but it’s still a bit of a shock. The thick, jutting member is deep indigo at the base and a lighter aquamarine down the length. It barely resembles a human cock except in its vaguely phallic silhouette, oozing from an engorged sheath that dribbles cloudy slime. The shaft is smooth with a gentle upward curve, thick and shuddering with unnatural flexibility. It narrows to a soft triangular tip. Two additional appendages unfold from his hips. They remind you of crustacean legs, rigid and insectoid. They bend along two joints, pawing at the air with their sharp claw tips. 

The sea muse makes a thrusting motion. The tentacle-cock wraps around his hand, drooling like a tongue. His bioluminescent patches flash and dim like a flickering candle. You’re no marine biologist but it feels safe to assume this is a mating display.

“Uh. No? No thanks,” you say.

He grins. You see a row of daggers for teeth. He speaks slowly and your heart skips a beat when you clearly read the words, Are you sure? on his lips. 

“I’m sure. Thanks anyway.” Maybe you should be flattered. You’ve never heard of anyone getting hit on by a sea muse. He lets out a big, disappointed sigh, extra dramatic so you can’t miss it, and gives himself one last stroke before he moves on. You half-expect the cock to slither back into its sheath, but it stays obscenely hard and straining upright between his legs.

To your dismay, he doesn’t leave but instead pokes around the shop some more. He wanders to the left, examining surfboard keychains and hibiscus shot glasses. He wanders to the right, squinting at the postcards. Eventually, he makes his way to the freezer and slides it open with some difficulty. His head membrane flares out wider than you’ve ever seen it the first time he sticks his hand inside. You wonder if he hissed. He tries again, pinching a fruit pop in its colorful package between his claws. He rips the plastic open.

“Hey!” you say. “You can’t just—”

He looks back over his shoulder at you, eyes narrowed and membrane spread in warning. You turn away and continue to mind your own business. 

The glow party seems to be winding down. The beach balls are all sitting in a pile. Some of the glow stick arches have toppled over. The pounding bass isn’t shaking the pier anymore. You see a lot of people lounging in the sand, rolling around, stretched out together, a bunch of them writhing—

Oh, you think. That’s bold, even for Trouble at Ten O’Clock. There’s no mistaking those thrusting, grinding, back and forth movements for anything else. There are a few couples scattered around but most of them have settled into a spot worryingly close to the water, seafoam rushing around them whenever the waves come surging up the beach. They tangle together in passionate motion, kissing and caressing and fucking like it’s the last night of their lives.

Something about it unsettles you. They’re being so rough with each other. This isn’t a slow, sensual orgy but a frenzy. Mindless, animalistic rutting and forceful movements. You see mouths open in silent screams. Some of them aren’t moving. Some of them are trying to crawl away but they’re being dragged back by the ankle, the hair, the arm, pulled through the dark sand. Why is the sand so dark? And wet, glistening where the tide hasn’t risen yet. 

The horrific realization grips you slowly. You’re in denial. You must be having a nightmare. A man tries to claw his way up the beach but someone else pins him down, straddles his back. You don’t see what happens, can’t make it out in the dark, but the paint on his body stretches and splits, and the sand darkens in a liquid motion under him. A woman arches her back in the throes of ecstasy, surrounded on all sides by eager, thrusting bodies. They’re biting her, you realize. Their heads lower and blood splashes the sand. Through all of it, she squirms and rakes her fingers through the sound as though she’s never felt pleasure like this before. Someone crawls between her legs and she opens them eagerly, loops them around the waist of something that is not human, you realize. None of the ones surrounding her are. They glow more brightly in more precise patterns, membranes pulsating, gills fluttering.

Your headphones are ripped away, clattering uselessly to the floor. You hear an awful cacophony of moaning, screaming, begging, and weeping. You think, for just a second, about running. Your muscles tense and your heart races. Where? For how long? You don’t know but you’re willing to try. 

“Where are you going?” says the sea muse and you can’t move a muscle. His voice is low and melodic. You hear the ocean when he speaks; the hiss and splash of the shallows, the heavy drone of the deep. “Hm? Do you want to join them?” You hear the wet slap of his footsteps for the first time as he comes closer. His hand grasps your chin lightly, barely applying any pressure, but you feel compelled to turn around. To look up at his sharp-toothed smile and the gentle pulse of his bioluminescence. “My shiver is down there. Frenzying,” he says. He turns your head to the side, just far enough to glimpse the gruesome scene on the beach, then returns your gaze to him. 

“Please don’t,” you say hoarsely, your throat constricted. “Don’t make me, don’t—” 

“It’s been so long,” he says, and your mouth snaps shut. “Since I last came ashore.” He walks backwards, his fingers still ghosting against your chin, and you follow. You don’t want to but your legs move on their own. His voice is addictive. You hang on every word and you hope he never stops talking. The silence between makes you tremble. “Even longer since I last mated. You can see it. You can tell how long I’ve waited, if you look.” 

You don’t want to look but your eyes betray you, gaze lowering to the slithering thing between his legs. It curls around itself impatiently like a snake. Another glob of slime slides slowly from its sheath and dribbles on the floor. The way it moves frightens you, the base twitching and undulating, slug-like. 

“You want this,” he says. He takes another step back and you rush forward. He strokes beneath your chin. 

You shake your head desperately. Your mouth is trying to shape the word “yes.”

“You do. You want this.” His back hits the register counter and he leans against it, spreading his legs wide. “You want to taste me,” he says, his voice dipping lower. 

You drop to your knees so fast it hurts, feeling the blooming sting of new bruises. It doesn’t matter that you’re terrified. It doesn’t matter that the thing bobbing in your face is like nothing you’ve ever seen before. You open your mouth and suck the strange, pointed head without hesitation. The sea muse moans and your thighs quiver, inner muscles clenching on nothing. You have to hear it again. 

“You need it,” he purrs, thrusting shallowly. You bob your head, taking him deeper every time. He hits the back of your throat quickly, his cock eager and probing at the inside of your mouth. “You need me to spill inside you. You need everything I have to give.” You moan and choke around his length. His hand rests on the back of your head, forcing you down further. His thrusts get harder and faster, crushing your nose against his slick abdomen. 

Some part of you is screaming at the alien movements of his cock, how it nudges and prods and tries to snake down your throat, but you can’t focus on that. He doesn’t let you. Every grunt and moan, every hiss of praise, makes the fear even more distant. 

“You need—oh, yes,” he groans, clutching your head with both hands as he pounds into your mouth. “You need to mate with me. You need—mm, suck on me, suck on the tip—fuck, you need my milt. I have so much and you need all of it.” 

You make a humiliating, needy sound when he suddenly pulls you off of his cock. It slips out of your mouth reluctantly, the tip sliding back and forth against your lips. He drags you to your feet by the forearm, shoving you against the register counter. He bends you over it, tearing at your clothes with his claws. You cum when he blows softly against your ear. You’re still shivering, clawing mindlessly at the counter when he kisses and licks the shell, sliding his tongue into every little dip and groove. 

“Do you want me?” he whispers. You hear a slick sound, a grunt, and then his hand is at your entrance. He uses the pads of his fingers but he’s not very careful. His claws prick your thighs as ass while he smears thick, warm globs between your legs. “Hm? Do you want me?” 

“Yes,” you sob. You arch your back and try to press your hips back against him. He makes a growling sound against your ear that makes your knees buckle, nipping the lobe playfully. 

“You want to be fucked?” One hand reaches around and roughly works your sex, spreading a warm, tingling sensation. “Want to be filled with milt?” 

“Yes!” 

His cock slides along the curve of your ass, teasing you. Then it slithers down, sliding into just the right angle with the tip pushed against your entrance. “Good human,” he purrs, and your eyes roll back in your head. His tip presses inside and then he’s thrusting hard and fast without warning. More slime drips from his sheath and slides down his length, the tingling slickness easing his punishing rhythm. It wouldn’t matter if the lubrication wasn’t there. You can’t do anything but lay there and gasp and meet his thrusts, needing his cock inside you more than you need to breathe. 

Those sharp, grasping appendages hook around your thighs. You feel them lock into place, their grip tightening until you’re right up against the sea muse’s body. His thrusts don’t slow at all. If anything, he’s even rougher and faster, deep humping thrusts that make you tremble and scream. He keeps talking through all of it no matter how winded and breathless he gets, keeping you right on the precipice of orgasm after orgasm with filthy whispers and wet, open-mouthed kisses against your ear. 

“So tight,” he hisses. “You feel so good, squeezing me like that. You want it so much. I’m going to give you everything. You’re going to be so fucking full.” His hips stutter, losing rhythm. You cum again just as a rush of warm wetness pulses inside you, spurting every time the sea muse thrusts. Thick, creamy liquid churns and foams at your entrance, a trickle dribbling down your thigh. You hear a few drops hit the floor under you. The sea muse rides out his orgasm with long, loud moans that send you over the edge again and again. He crushes you against the counter, hips rolling. One last, slow thrust fills you with another hot gush of his strange cum. 

He breathes heavily. His hips sway while he’s still sheathed inside you and his cock curls just the right way to make you sob for mercy. “Hm? You think we’re done?” he murmurs. “I told you. It’s been a long time. I still have so much more to give you. And you want it, don’t you? You need it?” 

“Yes,” you say, your voice quivering and broken. The sea muse starts to fuck you again and all you can do is let him.

You don’t know when it ends. It could be minutes, or hours, or days. The passage of time is measured in breaths and heartbeats and orgasm after orgasm. The floor is slick and sticky under you, a white puddle of milt steadily growing. You think he bites you but you don’t know. It all feels good, especially when he tells you how perfect you are, how sweet and submissive, how well you’re milking his cock of everything he’s saved for this moment. He makes you ride him once, seated on the counter while he bounces you in his lap. He digs his claws into the meat of your ass and leaves marks. 

You don’t know who finds you. Someone else who works the pier, probably, too horrified and embarrassed for both of you to stick around. The Coast Guard sweeps the water but the sea muses are long gone, leaving nothing behind but the mangled leftovers of their frenzy. The bodies glisten in the sand, torn to shreds like a burst whale carcass. By sunrise, the flies and the seagulls are swarming. You’re escorted to an ambulance with a blanket over your shoulders. The first person to look you in the eyes tells you, very quietly, that you might want to quit your job and consider moving inland. 

“Those are mating marks,” he says. You don’t know how he can possibly tell, given that they’re everywhere. Jagged, oozing circles dot your shoulders, arms, thighs and back. “Because they’re at a very precise depth. Meant to scar, not to kill. That means it’s going to come back.” They tell you not to look at the water but you do, one last time, before you leave. You don’t see anything. That doesn’t mean anything. The water’s deep and it seems to go on forever.

That night, in a hospital bed, you have a dream of someone singing to you. It sounds like the ocean filling your ears.

[pinkslipxox]

Hola amor can you do one of maybe where they go on vacation to wherever and they have smut but this time Miko is sub💖🙈

hola mi vida! Omg yesss I hope you like it 🥰❤️

——————————————————————————

The sun sets over the captivating shores of Puerto Rico, painting the sky in shades of deep orange and pink. The vibrant atmosphere of the island is alive with music and laughter, and there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you and Young Miko are ready to indulge in a much-needed getaway.

In your beachfront villa, the salty breeze drifts through the open windows, bringing the scent of the ocean and an intoxicating hint of adventure. Miko, with her trademark confidence, lounges against a sun-drenched cushion, her tattooed arms casually thrown behind her head. She wears a loose crop top that accentuates her toned figure, a juxtaposition of toughness and allure that never fails to captivate you.

“Y/N,” she calls out, her voice playfully seductive, “I challenge you tonight.” There’s a glint in her eyes that sparks something daring within you.

“What kind of challenge?” you ask, stepping closer, curiosity dancing in your voice.

“I wanna see mi nena chula take charge,” she grins, biting her lip mischievously. “Show me how powerful you can be.” The challenge ignites a fire inside you, and you feel a rush of excitement at the thought of stepping into a more dominant role, especially with someone as fierce as Miko.

With a confident nod, you agree. Tonight is the night you’re ready to explore the depths of your connection and unleash a side of yourself that’s been waiting for this moment. As daylight fades into the comforting embrace of night, the villa transforms into a sanctuary of warmth and intimacy.

You lean in, getting close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body as you brush your lips softly along her throat, teasingly trailing kisses that elicit soft gasps from her mouth. Miko’s eyes roll back, a satisfied smile spreading as she sinks deeper into the moment. “Mmm, sí, just like that, pequeña,” she breathes, her voice laden with affection and need.

Finding your confidence, you take a more assertive stance, carefully pushing Miko back against the cushions, straddling her lap. She watches you, a spark of admiration lighting up her eyes. “Look at you, bebé,” she coos, a mix of pride and excitement dancing in her tone.

You lose yourself in the intoxicating pull of each kiss, your confidence growing as Miko encourages you, her hands roaming over your waist, grounding you. While she’s known for her fierce exterior, in these moments, she transforms into a softness that melts your heart. “I love when you’re like this, just let go,” she whispers, her voice a mixture of teasing and reverent.

“Just relax and let me show you how I feel,” you reply, leaning in to kiss the sweet spot just beneath her ear, igniting a soft whimper from her throat. Her body responds eagerly, and you can sense her primal need surfacing, urging you on.

The air between you thickens, and suddenly, the gentle atmosphere becomes feral with passion. You both dive into the depths of your desires, kisses turning fevered and desperate. Miko plays with your hair, pulling you closer as she whispers sweet nothings in a mixture of English and Spanish, her words washing over you like a warm wave.

“Eres tan hermosa, Y/N,” she murmurs, planting gentle kisses along your jawline. “Just like that, I’ll always be yours.” The way she cradles you in her strong arms makes you feel like the most cherished person in the world—a delightful contrast to the wild flames of passion that dance between your bodies.

With each kiss and caress, you push further into the depths of your connection. You explore each other with abandon, discovering every curve, every muscle, every gasp. Miko’s skin is a canvas of art, and with every touch, you feel the story of her strength and softness intertwine.

As the night deepens, the boundaries of desire dissolve entirely. You let go of inhibitions, losing yourselves in the waves of passion that crash between you both. The primal energy surrounding you becomes intoxicating, and before you know it, you’re both feral for each other, your bodies moving with an instinctual rhythm.

Every moan, every kiss sends electric currents through your connection, intertwining your souls in a beautiful dance. Each time you pull away, your foreheads resting against each other, the intimate moments between breaths whisper promises of devotion and love.

With Miko in your arms, there are no limits. Just a powerful exchange of affection, a joyous discovery of comfort and strength enveloped in one another. The world outside fades, leaving only the two of you caught in your own paradise, where tenderness meets wild passion.

As the first light of dawn begins to peek through the windows, you both lay tangled together in the sheets, Miko gently cradling you in her powerful arms. She presses a soft kiss to your temple, her fingers tracing your back with a gentleness that conveys her adoration.

“Te quiero tanto, pequeña,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. You lean closer, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, safe and cherished in a way that wraps around your heart.

“I love you too, Miko,” you reply, your heart full as you breathe in the beautiful essence of the night shared between you both. In the heart of Puerto Rico, you’ve discovered not only a hidden paradise but also a deep and fiery bond that will only grow stronger with each adventure.

[circe-and-the-wolf]

⬆️ Fan-art-photo-faffing for Department Q; Carl Mørck (played by MG) at a Greasy Spoon - Part 3; all made up/just for fun whilst we patiently await the show

Let’s call this ‘Variations on an MG-string’ - Mørck’s mood from cool to warm to abso-bloody-lutely (re: Mona/Rachel, of course). This series of edits imagines a meeting between Carl and Rachel at a beachfront cafe after a windswept walk. Perhaps it’s Portobello Beach. Perhaps it’s a date. Or could turn into a date. Who knows.

📷 ⬆️ Original photos/screenshots by Uli Weber, @asgoodeasgold and from Downton BTS 📷 Edited using Procreate 🖌️🎨

Hurry up Netflix and give us some info so I can stop overthinking it! 😂 Can’t wait!

[when-life-gives-you-lemons-if]

What Tyler of honeymoon the lis would want to have ?

Umm...

Green's ideal honeymoon would involve a luxurious and cultural experience. A trip to a European city filled with art, music, and fine dining would be perfect. They'd spend their days visiting museums, attending shows, and savoring gourmet meals in charming cafes.

Monroe would opt for a rustic and adventurous honeymoon, maybe a cabin in the mountains or a cozy beachside cottage. They'd love to embark on hikes, explore nature trails, and have late-night bonfires under the stars. It's all about reconnecting with the simplicity of life, and also being somewhere where MC can scream as loud as possible and no one else would hear. 😅����

Mattos envisions a peaceful and serene honeymoon, maybe in a charming countryside bed and breakfast. Days would be spent leisurely, strolling through gardens, enjoying fresh lemonade on the porch, and indulging in homemade pies and muffins. It's all about unwinding and enjoying the quiet moments.

Fiffer's perfect honeymoon would center around a luxurious resort on a Caribbean island with a stunning pool and a beautiful beachfront. They'd spend their days basking in the sun, sipping refreshing drinks by the pool, and taking romantic walks along the shoreline. It's all about relaxation, enjoying each other's company, creating unforgettable moments in a tropical paradise, and also being kid-free for a while.

Barlow's dream honeymoon would be adventurous and nostalgic. They would take a trip back to the hometown where both they and the MC grew up. Exploring familiar streets, visiting old friends, and maybe going for a high school reunion. As a special touch, they'd want to recreate the prom night that didn't go well back then. This time, they'll ensure every moment is perfect, dancing the night away and crafting a beautiful memory with the MC.

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: A bit after Teds got back from Canada Location: Jones Home/beachfront Feat: @vanoincidence and @eldritchaccident Warnings: none! Summary: S’more familial bonding

Pitching a fire was careful work. Each piece of tinder arranged just so. Artful, as if it wasn't something that was awaiting the spark to set it alight. Inferno, annihilation, rebirth. Bonfire season stretched out before them, only just beginning to settle into warm enough nights to sit outside on the beach and watch the dazzling sparkle of flame dancing along the waves. 

Eventually, the tide would take over the stretch of sand, washing away even the ashes of Teddy's tireless work. And still they persisted. Crafting the tower, a monument to S’mores. Or, perhaps, to the ability to get to and walk around again. As long as they ignored the aching in their bones, everything was fine. 

The sun had not set, Teddy didn't think they'd want to be outside in the dark on their own just yet, even if their little study buddy was already on her way. The promise of a bright night light put their mind at ease, even if theoretical. 

The kindling struck up and smoked until the first flames appeared, Teddy smiled and sat back, taking stock of the sweeter supplies. Marshmallows, Graham crackers, chocolate, and a host of more experimental toppings. Some of which were kept on dry ice. Along with a thermos of liquid nitrogen. For science. Food science. Of course. 

With the fire going, the snacks set, Teddy figured it was a good enough time to get some practice in. A looming threat, and a hopeful promise chasing them ever since Echo had them thinking a whole lot more about this power they'd apparently been born to. It was a pretty all consuming spiral, one they couldn't help but ruminate on so much they missed much of their surroundings. Including Van showing up on the beach. 

—

Van had her own running supply of snacks for tonight’s event, all stuffed into a backpack instead of her regular tote. She could feel the shift of the red bull cans with every step, three new flavors for Teddy to try alongside her. The number of candy bars she had pulled off the shelves (all at various discounted prices) would probably end up squished by them, but she figured it didn’t matter considering they’d all be squashed between graham crackers and marshmallow, anyway. 

The smell of the smoke reached Van’s nose first, and then as she rounded the corner to the beach’s opening path, she saw the glowing light visible against the sandy floor. “Teddy!” She smiled brightly at them as she approached, one arm in the air, waving haphazardly around. There was a click in her shoulder that she ignored, the pain still there from the time she’d got thrown to the ground by the dirt eating vampire. 

“I brought some other stuff, too.” Van twisted her arm out of the strap of her backpack and held it up awkwardly as she began to unzip it, plopping down into a squat just next to Teddy. She began to unearth the various chocolate bars, as well as the cans of red bull. “These are kind of warm, I hope you don’t mind– Oh! Can we put them on the ice?” She motioned towards the cooler that Teddy was next to before rocking back onto her heels, planting her butt on the sand. 

The fire was warm against her skin, a welcomed feeling against the dropping temperature as the sun pushed down further.  Van wasn’t much of a hugger, but she felt inclined to give Teddy one. As she got to her feet, she threw both arms around them, giving him a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “What did Canada do to you, dude?” It was said with a soft laugh as she dropped back down next to them, grabbing her backpack so she could zip it back up. 

—

With how much Teddy was startled by Van’s arrival, you'd almost wonder if they forgot anyone was coming by at all. A seashell in the tide, their attention was pushed and pulled so easily. Unnoticing the rising and the falling until it found itself completely buried in the sand. In this particular case, the sand was an experiment in holding an increasing number of marshmallows in a small spherical forcefield hovering over the fire, which promptly exploded as the caster was startled and dropped the current record of four sugary treats down into the flames below. 

“Oh! Hey Junebug!” No tears were shed for the sugar feeding the fire, in fact, quite the opposite. The moment they heard the kid’s voice Teddy was all smiles, bursting to bits with joy as the younger caster kept talking and then opted for the hug, making Teds feel like they must be doing something right. Without much fanfare, Teddy took the drinks and added them to the cooler, sitting just beside the various experimental toppings, and the canister of dry ice chilled ice cream. 

“Ah Canada was—“ What they’d said online and what actually happened were two different stories. One of them involved hockey. One of them involved deprivation torture. Teddy wished they’d just been roughed around a rink. It’d be a lot less complicated. They’d be a lot less distant, hiding behind a smile they hoped she wouldn’t see as faulty in any way. “—so weird, Van. SO weird. Did you know they have milk in bags up there? Just in BAGS.” 

— 

When Van thought of Canada initially, she thought of geese and Toronto. Then, she started to think about Thea and the life that her friend had had there, and how different it was in Maine. How she’d been Cynthia, and now she went by something else. Was Teddy somebody else in Canada, too? Was there something they weren’t telling her? Probably, but she didn’t feel the urge to yank it out from beneath him, because what would that accomplish? This was supposed to be a bonding moment. 

“I’ve heard that! And their money smells like maple syrup, right?” That’d been a trap she’d fallen into, and she already knew the truth, but she wanted to see what Teddy would say to her. “Sucks that they have the queen on it, but at least the colors are pretty.” Not that their money was much better, but still. 

Van noticed that there were a few marshmallows already in the pit and she frowned, then looked back to the package. They’d barely miss them, as it was– the remaining bag was filled to the brim with the fluffy sugar bombs. “So like, where do we start? Should we put the graham crackers with the chocolate near the fire so the chocolate melts and it’s not all weird and messed up?” Messed up as in a weird texture, but she figured Teddy would understand that without her needing to explain further. 

—

“Wait really?” Teddy hadn’t spent long enough in Canada to actually exchange much cash, let alone go sniffing it. “I know it’s pretty colorful, but smells like maple too? Damn.” 

One redeeming point for Canada apparently. Not exactly enough that they really ever wanted to go back, but hey. Can’t blame the whole country for one town that may or may not even really exist. Didn’t on google maps, but the documents in the town hall looked official. It was weird. Not a lot about that place added up. Not in a way that made sense unless you were looking at it from just the right angle. One Teds never really found. “All money should be colorful.” Teddy nodded to themself. “But we need to start putting fun stuff on it, not old dead shitheels.” At least monetary markers were something more comforting to muse about. 

“Oh good idea, I got some more flat rocks on this side of the fire, we can probably put ‘em there.” Light danced around the pair as they circled the inferno. It chased away the darkness, gave purpose and strength to the night. Teddy hated feeling afraid. It wasn’t in their nature, at least it never used to be. Growing up demon, the only things that could even come close to terrifying them in the same way the simple darkness did now was maybe a whole cloister of nuns with guns. And that was… shit another fear that came from being locked in a room with something, awaiting a swift and assured death. Death itself wasn’t half as scary as the things that led up to it, they thought. The anticipation was worse. In the end, death might be more of a release and relief than they’d ever like to admit. 

“Also got blankets and such if the wind picks up and you feel chilly. But I doubt it will, been pretty lovely all evening.”

—

“Are you messing with me? You know that’s not real, right?” Van could’ve let them continue to believe that it was true, or that she thought it, and so maybe that’s what Teddy was doing– allowing her to believe. Or maybe they were messing with her in a different capacity, or maybe they thought it was real. “Sorry I lied to you.” 

“I hate money. Like, the idea of it, what it’s done to like… everything.” It was hard to not think about the arguments her parents constantly got into about money. They still echoed around in her head, tangling her up what it meant to be either successful or… the opposite. But now wasn’t the time to think about that! She and Teddy had a plethora of sweets at their disposal, and the night sky that bloomed over them was the kind that could only be dreamt up. She wanted to enjoy this time, especially now that Teddy was back. “But you’re right, um, colorful money would make things way cooler, and way better without the ugly dead people on it.” Was that rude? Would they come to haunt her? Maybe. She’d just hit George Washington with a cherry or something. Or was it an apple? 

Van dropped into a squat next to the fire, careful to not lean too far forward or too far back. She unearthed the package of graham crackers and began placing them gently on the flat rocks as Teddy had explained, before setting single pieces of chocolate onto them. “This is like, the best way to do it.” She looked up at them with a big grin. 

She looked towards the blankets Teddy mentioned and gave a small nod. “I think the fire will totally help out with that, but that’s like, super courteous of you.” That was the right way to use the word, right? She was almost positive it was, at least. “Um.. okay. Chocolate laid out, marshmallows acquired. Do we put on music? Or is that disrespectful to the night time or whatever?” 

—

“Wait– Really? Well diggity shit. That’s lame.” Defeat. Utter total disappointment. Why shouldn’t it smell like maple?  It should smell like maple. Teddy grumbled and fell backwards, getting a head full of sand and an eye full of stars. The stars are probably maple flavored. They wouldn’t disappoint. At the very least the North Star™ probably did. “Guess it makes sense though, when has a government run program ever done anything cool ever?” 

Hating money. That was something Teds could get behind. The caster tilted their head upwards, shaking off a little of the sand just to get a good look at the kid. It was easy for them to say they hated it now that the Jones family was more flush with cash then they could ever dream of spending in one lifetime, but it wasn’t always that way. Fireside treats and the family secret S’mores technique came from that period. When they scraped together enough to survive, and sometimes had enough for a treat. When most nights were spent under the blanket of the cosmos, warmed only by the massive body their father could transform into. 

“It’s unfortunately pretty useful, but…. Pretty much only because of all the shit it’s done to the…. Everything.” Two arms shot up in the air, waving around and gesturing to the whole of human civilization. “Hah!” Teddy snorted. “Yes, abso-fuckin-lutely no more dead ugly white guys. That’s number one.” 

Van got to work setting up the crackers, so Teds figured it was time to get roasting. “The trick for the marshmallows is to find a pocket of the fire without any big flames, but some hot embers down below.” Up and at-em with a dad groan, Teddy found their own spot by the fire. Put two mallows on a stick and studied the gentle inferno for the perfect oven. “Then you gotta be patient. This way takes longer, but it makes for the best flavor.” They explained, exceptionally proud of their caramelizing skills. “Only turn it once you see it juuuuuust start to smoke. And turn it slowly too, that’s how you get it perfect golden brown.” 

—

Van still wasn’t entirely sure if Teddy was messing with her or not, but only because their expression left so much to be discovered. She observed them for a moment, still not quite sure, but snorted at their comment about the government and how decidedly uncool it was. “I’d say the parks department is like, the only cool thing anywhere, but even they really mess up a lot of the time.” She had watched a 10 part Tik Tok series on why the park’s department sucked and had totally turned her back on them.

“Useful, yeah.” It was, and she knew it was, but it didn’t mean she was happy about it. Money sucked, and it got in the way of a lot of things. She didn’t want to think about the negatives right now, though, and as easy as it was to get wrapped up in them, she wanted to enjoy the here and now with Teddy, especially after they’d been gone for so long. “Yeah, like, put a tree on it or something.” The whole thing was technically made out of trees, right? “Or maybe that’s kind of messed up. I don’t know.” She didn’t really know a lot about anything, but it seemed like Teddy thought she did, and she liked that. 

“I kind of like when the marshmallows get kinda burnt and crispy… there’s something about the burnt parts that tastes really good.” That, and it was because she always got distracted by roasting them that most of hers had come out burnt and she got used to the taste. “But I’ll definitely try your way. You’re the one with the inventive food things, so you definitely know what you’re talking about.” Van half-waddled, half-knelt to the side of the fire that Teddy was at and watched them as they roasted the marshmallows. “Those look a lot better than anything I’ve done, and I’m not saying that in like, a depressing way. I mean those look like they came from a magazine.”  

—

“Parks and Postal service, the only parts I respect.” Teddy nodded along. “Imagine how much bullshit they have to deal with from the other branches. I bet they’d be about 87% more efficient if they were just like, allowed to do what they wanted.” They had watched no such Tiktok. But they had seen all of Parks n’ Rec. Multiple times. Hell of a show. One time someone compared them to an uncanny horrifying mix of Leslie Knope and Jean-Ralphio Saperstien. Teddy wore it like a badge of the highest honor for months. 

“Are you good on that? Like rent and groceries and everything? Your car running well?” Normally, they wouldn’t be so direct. Their support usually came in subtle gifts and acts of service. But for some reason, the topic seemed to bother Van in a way that worried them. Maybe not bother, seemed too strong of a word. Disconcert? Upset? Teddy mused on it a bit while they waited for a reply. “Trees! Yes! Something anyone can get behind. Or like, take a vote on what's everyone’s favorite animal. If I could make money I’d put a little nudibranch on it, have you seen those little guys? They look like pokemon.” A little lilting laugh escaped their chest, finding joy wasn’t hard in good company. 

“Heard, chef.” A little crispy. They could work with that. “Do you like the inside being molten or uncooked?” They could do the best of both worlds. Two marshmallows, one burnt and crispity, one golden and gooey. Pride swelled up as the kid came over, leading Teddy to preen like an egotistical peacock. “Ahh well, Whenever I’m with friends,  I never do anything I don’t think I’m amazing at, so that’s step one. Always gotta impress, y’know?”  

—

“I was told I shouldn’t respect the postal service by this one lady ‘cause my package got accidentally delivered to her house. She wanted to yell at them, but I don’t think they’re paid enough for that.” Van was glad that she was able to keep Vic from going and yelling at the poor postal workers, but it was a little bit annoying that it was something that kept happening. Then again, it probably had something to do with this stupid town and nothing to do with the actual workers. “Yeah, definitely more efficient, probably.” She didn’t really know a whole lot about government and the whole trickle down thing, but she was pretty sure Teddy was right. 

“What? Yeah, uh– I mean, I’m not like, paying rent right now. Regan won’t let me pay rent. I gave her…” Was it alright to tell Teddy that she had given her bones? Probably, right? “Bones. There were some bones, and she wanted them, so that’s what I gave her. It’s a lot cheaper than rent, right?” Van let out a nervous laugh. Groceries weren’t really an issue either, mostly because Sly Slice was a source of food. Though, she was getting sick of pizza. “But um, I’m good! Totally good.” She didn’t want to take from Teddy, anyway, especially when they were already offering so much given the whole… both having magic thing. “A Nudi-what?” The topic of it looking like a pokemon did make Van interested, so she pulled out her phone and looked it up, nodding with confirmation at Teddy’s description. “It looks like something that’d be in the game, totally. Wait, that’s so cute. I want them on my money. Way better than old dead white guys.” 

“Uncooked? No way, then it doesn’t get all sticky with the chocolate– Oh, crap.” She turned towards the graham crackers on the edge of the rocks, noticing that the chocolate was already beginning to bubble. She carefully moved them to a cooler side of the rock where they wouldn’t continue to cook. Van listened to Teddy as they spoke, and even if she couldn’t really identify with their sentiment, she felt like she needed to tell them that it wasn’t necessary. “I already think you’re like, super cool and whatever. Way cooler than Emilio, so.. I mean.” She shrugged, nudging the graham crackers towards Teddy so that they could place the marshmallows on top. “You can definitely tell him I said that. I think you should use that as like, the way you impress people. Just show them Emilio.” There was no way she’d say that she thought Emilio was cool, so she laid it on thick in regards to thinking Teddy was way cooler. “These look melted enough, right?” 

—

“Nobody gets paid enough to be yelled at for a mistake, except maybe like… CEOs but they should be melted with the marshmallows I think.” Teddy hummed a little laugh, briefly imagining a screaming rich dude at the end of their stick rather than a sugary treat. Just like a bedtime story Leviathan would tell. Of comeuppances and shitheels getting what they deserve. “At the very least they’d be happier.” And happy folks tended to work better, or at least make it nice for everyone they interact with. If Ted knew how much trust Van put into their aimless rambling, they’d probably never shut up. So a change in topics was probably for the best. 

“Oh! Right, The Death Doc is your landlord. I think I remember you saying that before.” Memories were so fickle, rudely getting lost and mixed up in loose imaginings and potential panicking points. “Bones eh? That sounds about right with her. Definitely cheaper than rent.” They agreed, whole heartedly. Not even missing a beat, as if that was the most normal currency one could offer. Bartering, Teddy thought, was a much better system overall. Everyone could get exactly what they want, or what they need. “Yeah well, if you get in a pinch, I got more food and room than I can shake a salmon at.” 

Van pulled out her phone and immediately Teddy perked up. Her impulsive inquisitiveness was one of the things that they always admired about the kid. Reminded them a lot of themself. And the whole of the universe knew how much Teddy Jones loved themself. (Most of the time.) “We should make a club. Specifically so we can have t-shirts with our nudibranch mascot on them. Bet you any money Wynne would think these guys are cute too.” 

“Atta girl, you are so right for that. Gooey is the way to goo.” Perhaps not the best phrasing considering the whole town had been covered in a terrible goo not half a year ago. Ahh well, time passed, and the consistency of melty treats was a far cry from the black ichor that messed up so much shit back then. “Oop.” Teddy let out a small sound of surprise as the graham cracker bases were nudged their way, absolutely ready to be made into the perfect S’mores. “Well you are a hundred percent correct on that, but he’s got some cool points. Maybe not from you, Junebug.” Carefully, the older caster split the two marshmallows evenly across the crackers, making sure both got a good amount of goo as well as the crispy golden shell, with specks of burnt just for that added texture and flavor. They smooshed the tops on and handed one over, primed for a cheers motion. “Melted to maximum deliciousness. Bone app the teeth.” 

[oliviahartx]

INTRODUCING OLIVIA HART: we love to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrest.

FULL NAME            olivia james hart.

BIRTHDAY              march 14th ( 33 ) . 

BIRTHPLACE          blue harbor, illinois.

GENDER                 cis female.

OCCUPATION     owner ( and wedding planner ) of everlasting moments.

BUILD                     athletic.

HAIR COLOR         brown .

EYE COLOR           brown.

HEIGHT                  5’8

PARENTS              robert hart ( father ) + julia hart ( mother )

SIBLINGS        none .

PETS                    stellar ( black cat ) .

CHARACTER PARALLELS: brooke davis ( one tree hill ), caroline forbes ( the vampire diaries ), serena van der woodsen ( gossip girl ), mary flore ( the wedding planner )

BIOGRAPHY

Olivia Hart was born in Blue Harbor, Illinois, into a family with deep roots in the region's cultural and social scene. Her parents, Julia and Robert Hart, ran a successful catering business, and their home was frequently abuzz with the preparations for events ranging from intimate family gatherings to elaborate parties. Growing up amidst the hustle and bustle of these events, Olivia developed a fascination with the art of celebration.

As a child, Olivia was often found helping her mother with flower arrangements or assisting her father with the logistics of event setups. These early experiences planted the seeds for her future career. Olivia excelled academically, showing a particular interest in art and design. Her high school years were marked by her involvement in organizing school events and fundraisers, where her organizational prowess and eye for detail began to shine.

She attended the University of Illinois, where she pursued a degree in Hospitality Management. During her time at university, Olivia interned with various event planning firms and hotel management companies, gaining valuable hands-on experience in the field. She graduated with honors, armed with a robust understanding of the industry and a deep passion for creating memorable experiences.

After graduating, Olivia secured a position with "Elegance Events," a high-end event planning firm renowned for its luxurious weddings and social gatherings. Her role involved coordinating every aspect of events, from vendor management to on-site execution. Olivia quickly distinguished herself with her meticulous attention to detail, creativity, and ability to remain calm under pressure. Her talents did not go unnoticed, and she was promoted to a senior planner position within a few years.

Despite her success, Olivia harbored dreams of running her own business. At 28, she took the bold step of starting her own wedding planning company, "Everlasting Moments." The decision was driven by her desire to bring a personal touch to wedding planning and to offer clients a unique and bespoke service that reflected their individual personalities and preferences.

"Everlasting Moments" began as a small operation with Olivia handling most of the planning and coordination herself. Her dedication and personalized approach quickly earned her a reputation for excellence. Her business grew through word-of-mouth referrals and glowing reviews from satisfied clients. Olivia’s ability to connect with couples on a personal level and understand their vision for their special day became her trademark.

The early years of running her own business were challenging. Olivia worked long hours, often juggling multiple weddings in a single weekend. Despite the demanding schedule, she found immense satisfaction in seeing her clients’ dreams come to life. Her portfolio expanded to include a diverse range of weddings, from intimate beachfront ceremonies to grand ballroom affairs. 

To support the growing demand, Olivia has began to  gradually build a team of talented professionals, including event coordinators, designers, and administrative staff. She is focused on building her brand and living vicariously through the couples that she helps.

[govindhtech]

Modern Art of Bahia Museum’s Unique Heritage Collection

Bahian Museum of Art

Through the most recognisable pieces in collection, which are now digitally available, discover the colourful tapestry of modern Brazilian art, from historical roots to contemporary voices.

Nestled in a picturesque architectural complex on Salvador’s beachfront is one of Brazil’s most significant modern art organizations. Google’s is thrilled to present the rich legacy collection of the Museum of Modern Art of Bahia to a worldwide audience for the first time. This collection perfectly embodies the lively spirit of Brazil.

Through a partnership with Google Arts & Culture, more than 70 of Google’s collection’s paintings have been digitised in extremely high resolution, making the MAM-Bahia experience accessible online. Now, visitors from all over the world can explore Google’s digital collection and learn about the tales that distinguish our museum. Here are three highlights that are not to be missed to get you started:

Going from Manor to Museum

Explore the rich past of Solar do Unhão, the stunning coastal community home to the Museum. Discover how this ancient monument, which dates back to the 16th century, changed over time and became the great cultural hub it is today thanks to the ideas of architect Lina Bo Bardi.

The most significant facility for modern and contemporary art in the state of Bahia is the Museum of Modern Art of Bahia. Its breathtaking site, the mediaeval mansion Solar do Unhão, overlooking the ocean and surrounded by lush foliage, lends an extra degree of beauty to the art experience.

Constructed in the 17th century, the Solar do Unhão has an interesting history, having passed through the hands of affluent families, Benedictines, and even a snuff factory in the early 1900s.

It was first mentioned in writing in the sixteenth century. Gabriel Soares de Sousa, a Portuguese coloniser, farmer, and historian, was the owner. They left the region to the Benedictines of Bahia in will after passing away on an expedition close to the Paraguaçu River’s sources.

Italian-Brazilian architect created the Museum of Modern Art of Bahia vision and was its first director from 1959 to 1963. They is well recognized for creating the Museum of Art of São Paulo (MASP) project.

The Rubem Valentim Pavilion and a new Sculpture Garden were added to the museum area in 1998.

Presently, MAM-BA’s exhibition spaces feature well-known artists from Brazil and beyond, solidifying the museum’s position as a major player in the country’s contemporary art landscape.

In addition to art shows, the museum hosts a busy cultural schedule. A vibrant community of learning and involvement is fostered by the museum through continuing educational programs and multilingual events.

Enlarge the assortment

Discover about 70 high-definition digital masterpieces from the MAM-Bahia collection thanks to Google Arts & Culture. From modernist classics like Tarsila do Amaral and Rubem Valentim to contemporary artists like Bob Wolfenson and Panmela Castro, explore the brushstrokes and uncover hidden elements in paintings.

Modernist Icon Tarsila do Amaral

The famous Brazilian artist Tarsila do Amaral (1886–1973) used startling colours and compositions. Manor to Museum used Brazilian themes and sceneries in her ‘Modern Art’.

An Up-Close Look at Tarsila’s “O Touro”

Let’s take a closer look at Tarsila do Amaral’s well-known “O Touro.” Observe how the strong visuals and vivid colours express the tenacity and resiliency of Brazilian culture. Bold, geometric shapes are used to symbolise the bull, a symbol of both industry and nature.

Tarsila do Amaral used European avant-garde, especially cubism, but Manor to Museum also created her own personal style by fusing Brazilian colours and ideas into her works. This resulted in a genuinely original artistic voice.

Produced in 1928, this piece of art represents a turning point in her creative development. It’s reminiscent of her previous “Pau-Brasil” (Brazilwood) style, but it’s also deeply based in her “Antropofagia” (Anthropophagy) period.

There is something gigantic about the bull, the main character, that goes beyond realism. Its geometric and simple design is reminiscent of the early 20th century cubist influences.

Tarsila embraced ‘ugly’ or inoffensive colours like violet pink and pure blue, which were deemed to be daring and unfashionable at the time. Her devotion to artistic innovation and pushing limits was evident in this audacious decision.

Viewers are still drawn to the artwork because of its vibrant colour scheme, straightforward shapes, and surreal atmosphere, which entice us to explore a fanciful vision of the Brazilian countryside.

Highlighting Black Art

Salvador’s cultural landscape is enriched with African heritage. Without the contributions of Black Artists, whose works reflect the influence of Afro-Brazilian faiths, customs, and people, Bahia’s art would not be the same. Learn about some of the well-known names that comprise the museum’s collection and the ways in which up-and-coming artists are realising their ideas and cultural legacies.

Salvador, Bahia’s lively capital, is a distinctive destination due to its African roots. The city has the most African descendants worldwide.

Emanoel Araújo

Emanoel Araújo (1940-2022) incorporated Afro-Brazilian culture into his prints, paintings, and sculptures. Emanoel Araújo’s attention to Afro-Brazilian heritage is visible in his paintings.

Araújo’s impact extended beyond galleries and museums. As the director of the Pinacoteca do Estado de São Paulo and later the Afro Brazil Emanoel Araújo Museum, he was honoured following his passing.

Panmela Castro

Powerful Brazilian artist and activist Panmela Castro (b. 1981) promotes women’s rights and social justice through her art. Her murals, paintings, and performances address gender equality and feminine identity.

In this picture, the artist depicts Federal University of Bahia scholar Ana Cláudia Lemos Pacheco, who studies the “solitude of the Black woman”.

Juarez Paraíso

Juarez Paraíso, a notable Brazilian artist (b. 1934), works in sculpture, painting, and printmaking. Paraíso has greatly influenced the art scene in Bahia and Brazil. His art is modernist with a twist.

Google’s uses interlocking circular structures that resemble organic shapes. His emphasis on circularity and organic forms distinguishes him from geometric modernism.

Tiago Sant’Ana

Contemporary Brazilian artist Tiago Sant’Ana (b. 1990) is making waves with his thought-provoking paintings on race, history, and power.

The “Sugar Shoes” series emphasises freedom’s precarious balance. These sugar shoes represent Black liberation. Their impending dissolving in seawater highlights their newfound citizenship’s vulnerability.

Anderson AC

Versatility defines Anderson AC (b. 1979). He works in painting, graffiti, collage, photography, video, and installation. Memory, history, and past-present links are common topics in his art.

His creations often start with found objects, giving them new life. This shows his interest in personal and collective histories.

Read more on govindhtech.com

[limerental]

Ok spoilery initial reaction to s3 vol 2 under the cut okie dokie

The good:

some moments made me go WAHHHH aloud. frinfran supporting each other... every scene with them tbh made me insane. Cahir and fringilla reunion... they love each other.... the visuals in the cahir and ciri scene were spot on he's just a little guy. Uhhhh I forget what else. MILVAAAAAAAAA. women. Rats!!!! Tissaia's final scene/line I had to stand up and yell and cwy a little. Vilgefortz had his whole vilgussy out and he blew geralts back out with his huge throbbing staff amen.

The bad:

It wasn't very well-written plot-wise lol

A lot of stuff just... happens and a lot of characters make decisions based on ??? and they could have avoided everything that happened pretty easily. Travel and information goes around WAY too easily sometimes and not other times? Yennefer just jogging back into the battle, Ciri just jogging right into Tor Lara from the convenient beachfront entrance, Geralt standing there like 🧍‍♂️while ciri and cahir fight.

Not to do a "not like the books" comparison (that ship has sailed) but the tension during the Thanned coup in Time of Contempt is entirely in the sheer chaos of battle, making choices trying to escape and stay alive that have consequences, and ultimately everybody ending up permanently separated because of those places being the only place they can go in those circumstances. Book Ciri runs into Tor Lara because she can't go anywhere else. Book Geralt fights Vilgefortz trying to get to her, not fully knowing where she is. (I'm not as grumpy about Book vs Show yennefer changes but yeah by s3 I can 100% say they are vastly different characters.)

Other stuff I didn't like: redacting the entire war plot in boring ways and excluding the other kings. Having Dijkstra know that Phil killed Vizimir that's sooooo that's got me sooooooo. Yen being overly involved at Aretuza and presumably establishing the initial lodge instead of Phil? A bizarre choice. The coup in general being a last minute decision instead of planned in advance. (Like they had time to do arts and crafts with arm bands when did they do that? Phil hosted an orgy post banquet and was like hey girlies let's gossip about vilgefortz BTW he's evil)

Anyway. I forget what else. The main takeaway is the same thoughts I've had about twn for a while. The character moments are SO good and there are many character relationships that reach right into my heart and stab me and make me want to explode and have me spiraling into varying thoughts about them. And the plot writing is just bad and contrived lmao it's just not good.

Nothing was so egregiously bad that I won't watch s4 though I mean. When the character moments are good, they're very very good, and most of the actors are also insanely good (and hot).

[annafshr]

Unveiling Paradise: A Travel Guide to Tulum and Cancún

Welcome to the dazzling Mexican Caribbean, where two iconic destinations, Tulum and Cancún, beckon with their pristine beaches, turquoise waters, and ancient Mayan ruins. Nestled on the Yucatán Peninsula, Tulum and Cancún offer an enchanting blend of rich history, natural beauty, and vibrant nightlife. In this travel guide, we will uncover the wonders of these coastal paradises, providing you with an itinerary that combines cultural exploration, outdoor adventures, and relaxation on some of the most breathtaking beaches in the world. Get ready to embark on an unforgettable journey through Tulum and Cancún!

I. Tulum

Exploring the Ancient Ruins:

Discover the cliffside ruins of Tulum, overlooking the Caribbean Sea.

Learn about the Mayan civilization and its fascinating history.

Wander through the Temple of the Frescoes and El Castillo.

Take in panoramic views from the cliffside and relax on the nearby beach.

Enjoying Tulum's Beaches:

Bask in the sun on the powdery white sands of Tulum's pristine beaches.

Swim in the crystal-clear waters of the Caribbean Sea.

Explore beachside cenotes (natural sinkholes) for a refreshing dip.

Indulge in beachfront yoga classes or relaxing spa treatments.

Cenote Exploration:

Dive into the mesmerizing underground world of cenotes.

Visit Gran Cenote, Dos Ojos, or Cenote Calavera for an unforgettable snorkeling or diving experience.

Discover the stalactite formations and hidden caves in these natural wonders.

Take a refreshing swim in the cool, crystal-clear waters.

Tulum Pueblo:

Immerse yourself in the bohemian charm of Tulum Pueblo.

Stroll along the vibrant streets filled with boutique shops, art galleries, and local eateries.

Sample delicious Mexican cuisine, including fresh seafood and authentic tacos.

Experience the lively nightlife with beachside bars and live music venues.

II. Cancún

Relaxing on the Beaches:

Indulge in the world-famous beaches of Cancún, with their soft, white sands and azure waters.

Sunbathe, swim, or take part in various water sports like jet skiing, parasailing, or paddleboarding.

Explore the nearby Isla Mujeres or Cozumel for snorkeling and diving adventures.

Visiting El Rey Ruins:

Discover the ancient Mayan ruins of El Rey in the heart of Cancún's Hotel Zone.

Explore the archaeological site and marvel at the intricate stone carvings.

Learn about the history and significance of this Mayan settlement.

Enjoying Ecotourism:

Take a day trip to the nearby Xcaret Park or Xel-Há Park.

Experience a blend of nature, culture, and adventure with activities like snorkeling, swimming with dolphins, and zip-lining.

Explore the lush jungles, cenotes, and underground rivers that make this region unique.

Nightlife and Entertainment:

Experience Cancún's vibrant nightlife scene.

Dance the night away at the energetic nightclubs and beach clubs.

Enjoy live music performances, traditional Mexican dance shows, or comedy clubs.

III. Nearby Excursions

Chichén Itzá:

Embark on a day trip to the iconic archaeological site of Chichén Itzá.

Witness the majestic pyramid of El Castillo (Temple of Kukulcan) and other impressive structures.

Learn about Mayan mythology and astronomical knowledge.

Akumal:

Swim with sea turtles in the idyllic waters of Akumal.

Snorkel alongside these gentle creatures in their natural habitat.

Relax on the tranquil beaches or explore the nearby cenotes.

Cozumel:

Take a ferry to the island of Cozumel, known for its stunning reefs and marine life.

Dive into the world-renowned Palancar Reef or explore the Chankanaab eco-park.

Enjoy water activities like snorkeling, scuba diving, or deep-sea fishing.

Tulum and Cancún offer a captivating blend of history, natural beauty, and vibrant nightlife. From the ancient Mayan ruins of Tulum to the bustling beaches of Cancún, these destinations cater to a wide range of interests. Immerse yourself in the rich cultural heritage, dive into the mesmerizing cenotes, relax on the stunning beaches, and explore the nearby attractions. Tulum and Cancún are waiting to enchant you with their undeniable allure and leave you with unforgettable memories of paradise on the Mexican Caribbean.

[crafticocreation]

The Beauty and Serenity of Beach and Sea Paintings: Bringing Coastal Vibes to Your Space.

Beaches produce an automatic soothing sensation in people. Ocean sounds joined with endless horizons and soft sea breezes grant people soothing sensations of serenity and rest. Throughout time artists found endless inspiration in ocean beauty which they expressed through numerous artistic mediums. Beach paintings and sea artworks serve as ideal decorative elements that deliver shore serenity to any living area.

The Timeless Appeal of Beach Paintings

People who adore the beach environment tend to prefer beach paintings as their preferred artwork selection. The artist portrays sandy coastlines and gentle water motions below transparent blue skies in his artworks. The beach art paintings evoke different coastal settings through their presentation of energetic beachfront panoramas with families or empty dawn beachfront under quiet sunlight. These artworks provide rooms with warm and bright decorations suitable for living rooms and bedrooms and look good in bathrooms that need coastal flair.

Artists succeed in showing the true nature of ocean works in their creations

The Artist's portrayal of sea themes captures ocean transformations by showing both serene liquid calms and aggressive wave motions. Artists employ multiple artistic methods to show both ocean power and serenity while depicting ocean depths and currents in their work. Elements including boats along with lighthouses and distant horizons are common in sea paintings where they contribute emotional depth to the artwork. Through its realistic or abstract styles sea artwork introduces ocean beauty and enigmatic qualities that become the central presence in any home space.

The Power and Majesty of Ocean Painting Art

Ocean painting art generates completely different feelings than beach scenes do because it displays both the overwhelming strength and vast scale of the ocean. Ocean paintings contain different elements which include powerful waves attacking coastal landmarks dramatic sky conditions and the deep ocean's blue-green color range. Ocean painting art affects building spaces through both majesty and grandeur making it suitable for areas that need bold dramatic artwork. Ocean painting art exists in peaceful sceneries and heavy depictions of ocean strength that produce an impressive visual statement.

The Charm of Canvas Paintings of Beaches

A canal painting of beach scenery brings a rough texture that enhances coastal decoration. The canvas texture meets beach scene flowing lines and soft colors to create realistic depth in the artwork. The beach theme in canvas paintings of beaches presents itself through both meticulous realistic details and loose freedom of style so you can select the design that appeals to you most. Paintings of beaches can work with different interior themes ranging from contemporary minimalist to rural beach residences.

Why Choose Beach and Sea Paintings for Your Space?

The use of beach art paintings sea artwork and ocean painting art within your home decor accomplishes two functions: it serves both decorative and mood-setting purposes. The paintings create serene emotional responses that assist people to relax and escape into peace which makes them appropriate choices for relaxation areas. Beach and sea artwork can appear as living room beach canvas paintings or ocean scape artwork in your professional space to deliver daily visual connections with pure natural serenity.

If your house is distant from the coastline beach and sea paintings can introduce warm and sunlit vibrancy to your interior where you live. These artworks let you experience the ocean feel wherever you happen to be located.

[chocolatedetectivehottub]

Dubai Party Planner,

Dubai Party Planner,

Dubai is a city known for its luxury, innovation, and global influence. From extravagant weddings and corporate events to high-profile product launches and social gatherings, event planning in Dubai is an art that blends cultural richness with modernity. Whether you are organizing a private event, a large-scale corporate function, or an international conference, Dubai offers endless opportunities to create memorable and successful events. Here's everything you need to know about event planning in this dynamic city.

1. Understanding Dubai’s Event Scene

Dubai’s events industry is diverse and expansive, with options catering to every type of event. The city’s blend of luxury and modernity makes it an ideal destination for both international and local event planners. Some key characteristics of the Dubai event scene include:

World-Class Venues: Dubai is home to iconic venues such as the Burj Khalifa, Palm Jumeirah, Dubai Marina, and the Atlantis Resort, as well as unique indoor spaces like the Dubai Opera or Dubai Exhibition Center.

Luxury and Opulence: Dubai's high-end hotels, resorts, and event spaces set the stage for elegant, luxurious events that attract celebrities, dignitaries, and high-net-worth individuals from all around the world.

Cultural Fusion: Dubai’s diverse culture means event planners can create experiences that appeal to both Western and Eastern audiences, ensuring a blend of traditional and modern elements in the design and execution of the event.

2. Types of Events in Dubai

Dubai is a hub for various types of events, ranging from intimate private affairs to massive international gatherings. Some of the most popular events include:

Weddings: Dubai offers a dream setting for luxury weddings, from lavish ceremonies in five-star hotels to unique venues overlooking the desert or sea.

Corporate Events: Dubai is a global business hub, attracting companies for meetings, conferences, seminars, and corporate retreats. The city's high-tech venues cater to all kinds of corporate events with state-of-the-art technology.

Exhibitions and Conferences: Dubai hosts some of the world’s largest exhibitions and conferences, such as the Dubai World Trade Centre events. The city’s infrastructure makes it a prime destination for international trade shows.

Product Launches: With its growing reputation as a global business center, Dubai is a prime location for launching products to a global audience.

Private Parties and Social Events: Dubai is known for hosting spectacular private parties, charity galas, and themed events, often set in scenic venues or luxury resorts.

3. Choosing the Right Venue

When planning an event in Dubai, the venue is arguably one of the most crucial elements. The right venue sets the tone for the entire event. Some of the most sought-after venues in Dubai include:

Desert Resorts and Camps: For a truly unique experience, consider hosting your event in the Dubai desert. Companies like Al Marmoom Desert Conservation Reserve offer magical settings for events like weddings and corporate retreats.

Luxury Hotels and Resorts: Dubai boasts some of the most luxurious hotels and resorts in the world. Locations like the Burj Al Arab, Armani Hotel Dubai, and Jumeirah Beach Hotel are renowned for their impeccable service and elegant settings.

Beachfront Venues: Dubai’s coastline offers stunning views of the Arabian Gulf. Hosting an event on the beach is ideal for those looking to create a serene and picturesque atmosphere.

Banquet Halls and Conference Centers: For large-scale corporate events, conventions, and exhibitions, Dubai is home to state-of-the-art banquet halls and conference centers such as the Dubai International Convention and Exhibition Centre.

4. Event Logistics and Services

Dubai offers a range of event services and logistics to ensure smooth execution of any event. This includes:

Event Management Companies: Dubai has a wealth of experienced event planners who can coordinate everything from start to finish. Many agencies specialize in various event types, offering end-to-end services, including budgeting, design, and on-the-day coordination.

Catering Services: Dubai’s culinary scene is diverse, with catering services that cater to international and local cuisines. Whether you’re planning a traditional Arabic banquet or a modern fusion menu, there are plenty of options to suit your event.

Audio-Visual and Technology Support: Dubai offers some of the most advanced audio-visual technologies. Whether it’s for a conference or a wedding, the city’s AV services ensure that everything runs smoothly, from live streaming to high-quality sound systems and lighting.

Transportation Services: Dubai is well-connected, and getting guests to and from your event is seamless. Many event planners arrange luxury transportation services, from chauffeured cars to private helicopters, making the travel experience just as extraordinary as the event itself.

Entertainment: Dubai is known for its extravagant entertainment options, including international performers, local artists, DJs, and themed entertainment. Planners can also arrange for spectacular fireworks displays and other luxury experiences to add flair to any event.

5. Legal Considerations

When planning an event in Dubai, there are a few legal and regulatory factors to keep in mind. This includes:

Permits and Licenses: Depending on the size and nature of your event, you may need to obtain a permit from the Dubai Tourism Department or the local municipality. For large-scale events, specific permits for entertainment or alcohol may also be required.

Alcohol and Catering: Dubai has strict regulations around the consumption of alcohol. Be sure to check the regulations if you plan to serve alcohol at your event. Most venues will handle this, but it’s important to ensure compliance with local laws.

Cultural Sensitivities: Dubai is a cosmopolitan city but maintains its Islamic traditions. When planning events, especially social ones, it’s important to respect the cultural norms and practices. For example, dress codes and behavior should be considered, and planners must ensure their events align with local customs and practices.

6. Budgeting for an Event in Dubai

Dubai offers a wide range of options, but it is also known for being a high-end destination. Budgeting for an event in Dubai depends on the size and type of event, as well as the venue and services involved. Consider the following:

Venue Costs: Depending on the location, the cost of renting a venue can range significantly. Luxury hotels and resorts tend to be more expensive, while desert venues or unique locations might offer more affordable options.

Catering and Entertainment: Dubai offers top-tier catering and entertainment, but these services come at a premium. Budgeting for these elements is essential, especially for high-profile events.

Event Coordination Fees: Hiring an experienced event planner can add to your budget, but it also ensures that the event runs smoothly, saving you time and effort in managing every detail.

Conclusion

Event planning in Dubai offers a world of possibilities. Whether you are looking to host a corporate event, a glamorous wedding, or an intimate celebration, the city has everything you need to create a memorable experience. With its stunning venues, world-class services, and diverse options, Dubai is the perfect place to bring your event vision to life. Make sure to work with an experienced event planning team, take cultural considerations into account, and plan your budget wisely to ensure your event is a resounding success.

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[mahmoudahmed60]

Top 10 Day Trips from Orlando for 2025

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Orlando is known for its theme parks and entertainment, but there’s so much more to explore just a short drive away! Whether you’re a history buff, nature lover, or thrill-seeker, the surrounding areas are packed with exciting destinations. Here are 10 incredible day trips from Orlando that will make your 2025 adventures unforgettable.

1. DeLand

This charming town is home to Stetson University, one of Florida’s oldest colleges. Stroll through the historic downtown, dotted with art galleries, antique shops, and cozy cafes. Nearby, De Leon Springs State Park offers refreshing natural springs, scenic boat tours, and even the chance to make your own pancakes at the Old Spanish Sugar Mill.

2. Kennedy Space Center

Experience the thrill of space exploration at the Kennedy Space Center. Watch live rocket launches, meet real astronauts, and explore the iconic Saturn V rocket. Don’t miss the U.S. Astronaut Hall of Fame and the Space Shuttle Atlantis exhibit for a truly out-of-this-world experience.

3. St. Augustine

Step back in time in the oldest European city in the U.S. Walk along cobblestone streets, explore the Castillo de San Marcos (the oldest masonry fort in the country), and enjoy the Spanish colonial architecture. Relax at the beaches, sip from the Fountain of Youth, or explore the vibrant nightlife of this historic city.

4. Tarpon Springs

Discover Greek culture in Tarpon Springs, known as the “Sponge Capital of the World.” Stroll along the Sponge Docks, shop for natural sponges, and indulge in authentic Greek cuisine. Nearby, the serene Caladesi Island State Park is a must-visit for beach lovers.

5. New Smyrna Beach

Boasting 17 miles of beautiful coastline, New Smyrna Beach is a paradise for beachgoers. Enjoy water sports, relax at quieter beachfront parks, or take a scenic drive along the shore. Flagler Avenue is a vibrant hub filled with boutiques, coffee shops, and restaurants to explore.

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6. Florida Southern College

Marvel at the architectural brilliance of Florida Southern College, home to the world’s largest collection of Frank Lloyd Wright buildings. Take a guided tour of the campus or visit the Polk Museum of Art, which features Wright’s work alongside other masterpieces.

7. Richloam General Store

Step back to 1928 with a visit to the Richloam General Store, one of Florida’s oldest. Browse vintage merchandise, grab fresh local produce, or sip on old-fashioned sodas while soaking in the nostalgia of a bygone era.

8. Micanopy

Explore the quaint charm of Micanopy, Florida’s oldest inland town. Wander past historic antebellum homes, browse antique shops, and admire ancient oak trees. Nearby, Paynes Prairie Preserve State Park offers wildlife sightings, including bison, wild horses, and alligators.

9. Weeki Wachee Springs

Witness the enchanting mermaid shows at Weeki Wachee Springs! Take a riverboat cruise, swim in crystal-clear waters, or rent a kayak to explore the scenic Weeki Wachee River. It’s a magical destination that feels straight out of a fairy tale.

10. Flagler Beach

Unwind at the serene Flagler Beach, known for its six miles of unspoiled shoreline. Visit the Flagler Beachfront Winery to try unique wines and their signature wine slushies. Soak in ocean views, sip on a frozen drink, and leave your worries behind.

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Start Exploring Today!

From cultural landmarks to natural wonders, these day trips offer a refreshing break from the usual Orlando attractions. So, pack your bags, hit the road, and create unforgettable memories in 2025.