#Exciting Deals on Art Online

[zigguratssblog]

Explore a collection of original artwork at Zigguratss. Browse our selected paintings, sculptures, Drawings and more of art in the world. All renowned and emerging artists at one place i.e, Zigguratss

[uncanny-tranny]

Crochet/knit life hack: If you crochet or knit a big, fluffy blanket, you can cuddle under it when you finish while you make other projects

[britneyshakespeare]

there are some rsc productions i've watched that i had mixed feelings about but others that hit them right out of the park and i've noticed it has little to do with how much i like the play itself (in the tempest 2017 dir. gregory doran i found that to be a hindrance to my enjoyment, liking the version in my head when i read it much more) (whereas with antony and cleopatra 2017 dir. iqbal khan i think it's just about a perfect realization about what i enjoy the play in so much and josette simon's performance is one of my favorite things i've ever seen on stage). but i've been watching two gentleman of verona 2014 dir. simon godwin/robin lough and it's just so fucking funny. the play itself is, well no one argues it's shakespeare's strongest and it has some obvious flaws in the ending (if you've read it you know what i mean by that) but i do think its premise is still wildly entertaining and interesting, there's some good jokes and beautiful poetry, it's just overall not the strongest character-driven comedy. this production though might just be the best possible version of the play. the song they give turio to sing to silvia is so good and then the performance is so hammy and camp in a way i didn't expect it to be. the original music is amazing and i think the modernized clothing and set pieces are really well done. like bravo

[plutonianeris]

Juno in your birth chart

Juno in the Houses

Juno in the 1st House: You’re drawn to partners who exude independence and assertiveness. These people don’t hesitate to let you know their intentions, and you’ll likely meet them through personal initiatives—whether that’s hitting the gym or taking a leadership role. Conversations with this partner may revolve around ambitious goals or mutual passions. You might bond over stories about how they took charge of a situation, leaving you inspired by their sheer confidence.

Juno in the 2nd House: Security is key for you, both financial and emotional, and you’re likely to find a partner who values these just as much. You may meet them in a bank, an art gallery, or even while shopping for something luxurious. Conversations here would focus on shared visions for building a stable life. You might talk about investment strategies, or share dreams of a beautifully decorated home, with an unspoken understanding of each other’s need for stability and comfort.

Juno in the 3rd House: Intellect and communication are your sweet spots. You’ll likely encounter your future partner in a bookstore, café, or even an online chat. You’ll be drawn to how effortlessly they debate or exchange ideas. Expect conversations that veer into deep, philosophical discussions, playful intellectual banter, or conversations about the latest book you’re both reading. The attraction here is mental as much as it is physical.

Juno in the 4th House:Family and emotional depth play a major role in your relationships. Your lover may appear through family connections or in a cozy, homey setting. You might have long, heartwarming conversations over homemade meals, talking about your dreams of creating a home, or sharing personal family traditions. They make you feel comfortable and secure, and discussions often revolve around building an emotionally supportive environment.

Juno in the 5th House: Fun and creativity are what draw you to a partner. You’re likely to meet them at a party, concert, or while engaging in creative hobbies. Expect exciting, spontaneous conversations—whether it’s discussing a new art project, a recent performance, or an adventure you both want to embark on. Their passion for life is infectious, and you might bond over the joy of living in the moment, with laughter filling the air.

Juno in the 6th House: You are drawn to practical, down-to-earth partners who thrive on routine and service. You may meet them at work, the gym, or even a volunteer event. Conversations here are practical and grounded, revolving around shared daily routines or health goals. You might talk about meal prep ideas, organizational systems, or simply how you can support each other’s growth in everyday life.

Juno in the 7th House: Balance and harmony are central to your relationships. You’re attracted to partners who complement your strengths and weaknesses. You might meet them in social settings or through mutual partnerships. Conversations will flow easily as they seem to intuitively understand your needs. You’ll often discuss how to create a more harmonious life together, how you balance each other out, or even future plans for partnership—be it in love or business.

Juno in the 8th House: Relationships for you are intense and transformative. You’re likely to meet your lover in mysterious, private settings—maybe through financial dealings or in a deep, emotionally charged moment. Expect conversations that dive straight into the core of your being. You’ll talk about your deepest desires, fears, and transformative experiences, feeling a profound connection in their presence. The chemistry will be palpable.

Juno in the 9th House: You crave adventure and intellectual expansion in relationships. You’re likely to meet your partner while traveling, at a lecture, or through a shared spiritual interest. Conversations with them will feel like journeys, exploring everything from philosophy to cultural differences. You’ll bond over debates about the meaning of life, travel stories, or dreams of exploring the world together.

Juno in the 10th House: Ambition and status play a big role in your relationships. You may meet your partner in a professional setting, perhaps through a mentor or an influential figure. Conversations will often revolve around career goals, long-term ambitions, or how you can elevate each other’s status. There will be a mutual respect for each other’s drive, and you’ll feel that you’re both working toward building a life of success and recognition.

Juno in the 11th House: Friendship and shared ideals are the foundation of your partnerships. You’re likely to meet your lover in group settings, through a social cause, or via mutual friends. Your conversations will often center around your shared vision for the future—discussing humanitarian causes, social movements, or innovative ideas for making the world a better place. This relationship is grounded in a shared sense of purpose.

Juno in the 12th House: You seek deep, spiritual connections, often meeting partners in quiet, secluded places like retreats or hospitals, or even during meditative moments. Conversations here will touch on the mystical and the karmic, with both of you feeling like your meeting was destined. You’ll talk about dreams, spirituality, and past life connections, feeling an almost otherworldly bond with each other.

Juno in the Signs

Juno in Aries: You’re drawn to bold, assertive partners who take the lead. Expect conversations full of energy and excitement, talking about their latest daring project or a thrilling experience they had. They’ll likely inspire you to be more adventurous, and together you’ll plan exciting endeavors, sparking each other’s passion.

Juno in Taurus: Your ideal partner is grounded, sensual, and steady. Conversations will focus on life’s simple pleasures—discussing the best wine, the perfect meal, or dreams of a beautiful home. You’ll talk about how to cultivate a luxurious, comfortable life together, with an appreciation for the finer things.

Juno in Gemini: Intellectual compatibility is key for you. You’ll have lively, rapid-fire conversations with a partner who keeps you on your toes. Expect witty exchanges, playful debates, and shared interests in topics like books, current events, or anything that piques both your curiosity.

Juno in Cancer: You’re drawn to nurturing, emotionally available partners. Conversations with them will often feel warm and supportive, revolving around family, home life, or your emotional needs. They’ll make you feel safe, and you’ll often talk about how to create a nurturing environment together.

Juno in Leo: You’re attracted to charismatic, creative partners who light up a room. Expect lively discussions filled with stories of their latest dramatic escapades, creative projects, or how they plan to conquer the world. You’ll enjoy being their audience and cheering them on, as they bring joy and excitement into your life.

Juno in Virgo: Practicality and reliability are what draw you in. Conversations with your partner will likely be about how to improve daily routines, tackle challenges with careful planning, or focus on health and wellbeing. You’ll appreciate their analytical mind and how they pay attention to details that make life smoother.

Juno in Libra:You seek a partner who brings balance and beauty into your life. Conversations will often touch on aesthetics, relationships, or creating a peaceful life together. You’ll find yourself drawn into their graceful way of navigating the world, admiring their ability to harmonize their surroundings.

Juno in Scorpio: You desire deep, intense connections. Conversations with your partner will be passionate and probing, often diving into taboo subjects or discussing transformative life experiences. You’ll both feel the pull of emotional intensity and the magnetism that draws you closer.

Juno in Sagittarius:Your partner will excite you with their adventurous spirit and philosophical mind. Expect conversations about travel plans, cultural explorations, or big-picture philosophies. Together, you’ll explore the world and each other’s minds, always keeping things light-hearted but deeply meaningful.

Juno in Capricorn: You’re attracted to someone responsible, ambitious, and disciplined. Conversations will likely revolve around career goals, long-term plans, and strategies for achieving success. Together, you’ll plan for the future, discussing ways to build a stable, successful life.

Juno in Aquarius: You’re drawn to partners who are unique, innovative, and forward-thinking. Conversations will be about ideas for social change, futuristic visions, or technology’s role in improving life. You’ll both enjoy brainstorming ways to break the mold and create a better future.

Juno in Pisces: A compassionate, dreamy partner is what appeals to you. Conversations will often be about spirituality, creative dreams, or emotional connections. There’s a sense of otherworldly understanding between you, as if you’re both communicating on a deeper, more intuitive level.

[kcggggg]

We passed it a couple of days ago, but it has been 10 years since the strip "On Fire" which became the meme "This is Fine" was posted originally on my webcomic Gunshow.

My thoughts on the meme come and go, ebb and flow, and change on a dime depending on how annoyed I am that day. I should be so lucky to get to do all this for a living thanks to what it has become and helped me do, but it's hard to see the forest through the trees and it feels like I'm constantly lost in the woods anyway.

Still. It's relatable! You might use it in your office job if you have one! A lot of people do. It has kind of lost a bit of luster for me when I am still a working cartoonist trying to make something bigger and better and people just like this thing you dashed off for a comic on a Wednesday. Other artists might know that feeling. It's what we all as creators often deal with.

This strip has made me comprehend the idea of one's perception of art. I am bored more often than not, of my own art. I try to make something that excites me, makes me laugh, but sometimes you have a schedule and just need to pop something out now. That has helped me get quicker and let go of precious ideas, but it has also proven to be a double edged sword when the world at large has access to your work.

When a work gets as big as this has, is it still yours? Not talking about copyright and legal stuff. It says something larger that everyone can feel and relate to. I did not go through what Matt Furie has, but there is a similar level of control you just Don't Have anymore when your work becomes a meme on this level. I got lucky being able to ride it out a little. But it's not perfectly in my grasp. There's plenty of bootleggers and grifters who just use memes as freely as the air they breath.

But I've always tried to move forward. I rarely think about my older work or care if it's even easily available online. I'm no historian, I'm just the jester who's makin' up a story or tellin' a joke. But I've been forced time and time again with these 6 panels, to be the party pooper, gate-keeper, girlboss, etc and just to get people to recognize there are artists behind these drawings online. These memes we share.

And it feels like it's only getting harder. The best I can ask for is for people to simply forget, but the dog persists. So I do what I can and try to keep in good humor and be thankful that I can still do what I do for a living.

so anyway buy some merch. bye

[hauntedhokage]

kiss prompt: an unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it. from this list

word count: 600

Public displays of affection weren’t really his thing, and they never had been. Rin liked to keep his personal life personal, reserving those special and more intimate moments with you for himself. The only exception was his family, but they also understood Rin’s preference for privacy so any evidence of those intimate moments was reserved for family photos on the wall and nowhere else. Part of that was to protect you from the public, despite your own instagram exposing just how sweet he was to you - gifts and at home movie dates, the way he’d snuggle with the cat on late start mornings, things like that.

There weren’t any real pieces of evidence online of him kissing you, though. His instagram was more on the artsy side, making sure to take pictures from his travels that you demanded when you couldn’t go with him. There were a few where you’re holding his hand on a table, or pictures of you in front of him admiring something - art galleries, sunsets, your cat. But in total there were two where he was actually showing some kind of affection that wasn’t simply you spending time with him or holding his hand: the first being an old picture of you kissing him at your first anniversary (a big deal because nobody thought you’d put up with him for even three months), the second being you standing beside him wearing his jersey, backs to the camera while he’s kissing you - and that was your engagement announcement. 

To him, that was enough, and you were fine with it too. 

Usually after big matches, Rin would point to where you were sitting - always the first seat by the stairs so it was easier for you to get out of there - as his own way of thanking you for being there with him in that moment. The normal cadence was that you’d use your field clearance after to be able to walk with him through the tunnel and bask in his excitement while he just liked having you close after those victories (sometimes to pull you into a corner so he could properly thank you). 

The last thing you’d ever expect is for him to push through the reporters trying to get a word from the captain, and his fellow teammates and coaches so he can get to you. You don’t know what to do when he calls out to you, hands cupping your cheeks as soon as he’s close enough to pull you into a kiss so passionate you’d only ever gotten behind closed doors. You don’t even know what to do at first, but your arms do find themselves around his neck after the moment of surprise. His face is hot and sweaty, but you wouldn’t have him any other way since his energy was contagious when he was like this. 

“Congrats, champ,” you whisper, smiling when he kisses you again with all of the cameras flashing around you both. “The people need you, Captain.”

“Yeah, but I needed my wife first. None of this happens without you.” 

A third kiss happens, this one interrupted by one of his teammates wrapping his arms around both of you and trying to steal cheek kisses from you both. The kiss is successful on your cheek, but you do have to distract a bit for the attempt on Rin to be successful, but he’s not upset by any means as he turns to the mass of journalists wanting his statement but he doesn’t let you leave his side. This was just as much your moment as it was his.

[jjangwonie]

DOUBLE LIFE

DOUBLE LIFE MASTERLIST

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary: With your anonymous Twitter account, you've acquired a pretty good following and popularity, throughout your school as well. Jake, your long-time crush, is one of them, head over heels. Yet when you once confessed to him, he had rejected your confession, saying that he already has his eye on someone else. What happens when he finds out that his online crush is the person that he rejected? And... How are you going to deal with this?

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: ~2.2k

TWELVE - no girl skills [written]

"What are you guys doing?"

You and Jungwon look over to the two older boys putting the drinks on the table, who are lightly scanning over Sunoo and Riki.

"What do you mean? I am super casual right now," Riki states with a stoic face while leaning his arm over the chair, one leg propped on the seat of Sunoo, who is leaned back and arms crossed, legs spread out in front of him.

"...Sure." Sunghoon takes a seat across from you, alongside Jake.

You quickly take one of the drinks, gulping down half of it. You don't notice, but Jake does the same with his drink.

Sunoo, ever the social butterfly, keeps the conversation going, regaling the group with an animated story about one of his misadventures in the school's art room. "Anyways, so that's how I ended up with my hair tainted with dark ink spots for a week." he finishes with a sigh, earning chuckles from around the table. "It's giving you a sign to dye your hair back to black." Riki nudges him.

Jungwon, noticing your silence, gently nudges you. "You okay?" he whispers, concern evident in his eyes.

You nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just... excited for the performance," you murmur back, grateful for his attentiveness. Meanwhile, Jake sits rigidly in his chair, his eyes darting between you and Sunghoon, clearly uncomfortable. He takes a long sip of his drink, using the glass as a shield to avoid eye contact.

Riki, never one to miss an opportunity for mischief, leans towards Jake. "So, hyung, got any embarrassing stories about Sunghoon hyung to share?" he asks with a sly grin.

Before Jake can respond, Sunghoon interjects, "Don't you dare, Jake. I know where you live." The playful threat breaks some of the tension, eliciting a genuine laugh from the group. Even you can't help but smile at your brother's antics.

Your attention is drawn to the stage as movement catches your eye. Jay and Heeseung are busy setting up, their practised movements showing their familiarity with the routine.

As they adjust the microphones, Heeseung looks up, catching sight of your table. He flashes a charming smile and waves, causing a flutter of excitement to ripple through the pub.

You raise your hand in a small wave back, a soft smile playing on your lips. For a moment, you forget about the awkwardness at the table, allowing yourself to be caught up in the anticipation of the upcoming performance.

Jay notices Heeseung's distraction and follows his gaze to your table. He grins and gives an enthusiastic thumbs up.

"Looks like they're almost ready," Sunghoon observes, his voice carrying a hint of pride for his friends.

"Thank you for letting me take the stage once again," Jay starts, resting his guitar on his lap. "Tonight, I invited my good friend Heeseung to perform a song we've been working on together."

Anticipation washes over you as you lean forward on your chair.

"I hope you all enjoy this evening, this song is called 'Highway 1009'."

The lights dim, Jay and Heeseung's music filling the pub with a warm, inviting atmosphere.

Their smooth voices and the practised strums coming from Jay's guitar make the group at the table fall into a comfortable silence, bobbing their heads to the rhythm and enjoying the performance.

While everyone else is focused on the stage, Jake's mind is elsewhere. His eyes occasionally flick towards you, then back to Sunghoon, guilt gnawing at him.

'I can't believe I rejected Sunghoon's sister', he thinks, his fingers tapping nervously on his glass. 'If he finds out... No, I can't tell him.' Jake tries to lose himself in the music, but his thoughts keep circling back. 'Why am I so worried about this? It shouldn't matter, right?'

The final notes of the song ring out, snapping Jake back to reality. He joins in the enthusiastic applause, pushing his conflicted thoughts aside for now.

Soon, Jay and Heeseung join the table, still buzzing with post-performance energy. The conversation flows more freely now, the earlier awkwardness dissipating.

"So, Riki," Heeseung grins, "I hear you've been giving Jake a run for his money on the football field?"

Riki puffs up his chest. "Well, I don't like to brag, but..."

"Yes, you do," you interject with a roll of your eyes.

Jake laughs, finally relaxing a bit. "He's not wrong though. Riki's got some serious skills."

The conversation shifts, and suddenly you find yourself the center of attention as Riki recounts a recent incident with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Oh, you should have seen it," he says, barely containing his laughter. "y/n was being particularly sour one day, so I thought I'd help her match her outfit to her attitude-"

You groan, covering his mouth with your palm. "Riki, don't you dare-" but you quickly jump back the moment you feel his teeth nip your palm and you dry your hand with a disgusted face.

"Ah, that is what happened that other day, huh?" Heeseung smirks. "Don't worry, y/n. You looked awfully cute in your gym apparel." His comment gains some snickers along the table.

"I'll get you back for this, Nishimura Riki." You huff while looking away. Jungwon slips a quick candy in your hand with a smile, signalling to not get too worked up about it.

As the night wears on, you notice Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki exchanging glances. Suddenly, they start gathering their things.

"Well, it's been fun, but we should head out," Sunoo announces, a little too cheerfully.

You eye them suspiciously. "Wait, what? Why are you leaving?"

Jungwon gives you a meaningful look. "We've got that... thing, remember? The one we talked about earlier?"

"What thing?" you ask, genuinely confused.

Riki rolls his eyes. "The thing where we leave you to bond with your brother and his friends," he whispers, not quite softly enough.

Your eyes widen in realization and a touch of panic. "Oh. No, wait. Why?" you manage, shooting them a 'please don't leave me' look.

But your friends are already saying their goodbyes, Sunoo giving you a sneaky wink as they depart, leaving you at the table with Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jay, and Jake.

You throw your head back into your chair. 'Great. Now what?'

As if by some cosmic joke, you suddenly find yourself alone at the table with Jake. Sunghoon, Jay, and Heeseung had excused themselves, muttering something about helping the staff with equipment or getting more drinks - you weren't really paying attention, too focused on the fact that you were now in the exact situation you'd been dreading all night.

An awkward silence stretches between you and Jake, both of you fidgeting with your drinks.

That horrendous memory keeps replaying, of how much you made a fool of yourself. Your eyes linger on a spot on the wall as you rethink all your decisions up until now.

Finally, Jake clears his throat.

"Listen, y/n," he starts, his voice low and hesitant. "I wanted to apologize. For that day at the school festival. I feel terrible about how it went."

You blink and slowly face him, surprised by his directness. "Oh, um, it's okay. Really. It was some time ago and you didn't know who I was."

Jake runs a hand through his hair, a habit of his. "Did you... did you ever tell Sunghoon about it?"

You shake your head quickly. "No, no. I could never, I'd never hear the end of it. Did you?"

"No, I haven't," Jake sighs, relief evident in his voice.

A beat passes, and then Jake attempts to keep the conversation going. "So, how's your classes going? Sunghoon mentioned you were in Advanced Writing?"

You nod. "Yeah."

Jake shifts in his seat to turn to you more. "How is it? And isn't that class taught in the building on campus me and your brother are?"

"Uh, yeah. It is, but I am there briefly because it is only once a week." Your eyes shift. "And classes are okay. It's challenging but I enjoy it," you respond, offering a soft smile.

Jake's mouth twitches at the soft smile, feeling like the awkwardness may be fading, even if it's small. "Oh, I see. Might explain why I have never seen you around." He takes a sip of his drink as he looks around the room, still feeling a bit awkward himself.

As short small talk continues, you find yourself relaxing slightly, though your responses remain brief. Jake, on the other hand, seems to be genuinely enjoying the conversation, his earlier nervousness fading, as he leans back in his chair while facing you.

After a lull, you gather your courage and ask, "So, um, any luck with that girl you had your eye on? The one you mentioned... before."

Jake's face lights up, but then he composes himself. "Actually, yeah. We've been talking online for a bit now. It's been really nice. She's funny and sweet, and I genuinely like talking to her."

You look up. "Really?" your voice comes out a bit more as a surprise. You look down at your drink as you stir the straw around aimlessly, trying not to seem too surprised. "That's great. I'm happy for you." Your voice sounds timid, shy to talk to him face to face again.

Jake, caught up in his enthusiasm, doesn't notice your slightly strained voice. He's about to ask you about your own love life when a familiar voice cuts through the air.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

Sunghoon's teasing tone makes both you and Jake jump slightly. He's standing there with Jay and Heeseung, a playful but slightly protective glint in his eye.

"Jake, my man," Sunghoon continues, slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders. "What exactly were you discussing with my little sister, hm?"

Jake's eyes widen, and you can almost see him mentally scrambling for a response. "We were just, uh, talking about school and stuff. Right, y/n?"

You nod quickly, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "Yep, just school. Very boring, academic stuff."

Heeseung raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh. Jake not putting his girl skills to use this time?" he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Jay chuckles, elbowing Heeseung. "Come on, leave them alone. I'm pretty sure that Jake doesn't have girl skills like that."

As the others settle back into their seats, the earlier one-on-one atmosphere dissipates. You look off and sigh in relief.

The night wears on, and the conversation at the table becomes more animated and relaxed. Jake finds himself leaning in, eager to learn more about you, realizing how little he actually knows compared to the rest.

"So, y/n," Jay prompts with a grin, "tell us about your latest battle with Riki."

You roll your eyes dramatically, slumping back into your seat. "Oh, where do I even start? The other day, he decided it would be hilarious to replace all my bookmarks with pictures of himself."

Sunghoon groans, "Not again. I swear, half the stories I hear at home start with 'Oh my gosh you won't believe what Riki did today.'"

"To be fair," you counter, "I got him back. Let's just say that you'll be finding glitter in his gym clothes for the upcoming days." You wave your finger around with your eyes closed, gaining a soft laugh out of Jake.

Jay chuckles, shaking his head. "I love how Jungwon and Sunoo seem so sweet toward you but have to tear you guys apart before you two tear each other's throat out."

"I think it's sweet," Heeseung chimes in, a playful look on his face. "You know, Riki might just enjoy getting a rise out of you. Some people tease the ones they want attention from."

You scoff. "Please, Riki? He's like an annoying little brat."

As the night draws to a close, everyone starts gathering their things. Sunghoon checks his phone and nudges you. "We should head home, y/n. It's getting late."

Goodbyes are exchanged, and you and Sunghoon are the first to leave. As you walk away, you can't help but let your gaze linger a second too long at the table.

Back at the pub, Jay, Heeseung, and Jake are left, nursing the last of their drinks.

Heeseung leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, y/n looked so pretty tonight. It's really different from the school clothes."

Jay's protective instinct kicks in immediately. "Hey now, watch it. That's basically my little sister you're talking about."

Heeseung holds up his hands in mock surrender, then turns to Jake. "What do you think, Jake? You've been pretty quiet."

Jake freezes for a moment, his mind flashing back to your earlier conversation. He clears his throat, shaking his head. "She is pretty chill. She seemed shy at first, but she is cool to talk to." The others nod, yet Heeseung doesn't seem satisfied with the answer.

He leans over the table, a smirk on his face. "Don't you think she is pretty?" He asks, making Jake cough on his last sips. "Come on. That's Sunghoon's little sister. Don't be weird." He answers.

Jay shakes his head. "Okay, hyung. I guess we call it a night, yeah? I don't want to hear this," he says as he stands up with a lighthearted scoff.

Heeseung merely laughs and glances over at Jake before patting Jay on the back. "Okay, okay, my bad. I won't pry any more, tonight."

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[am-i-interrupting]

Hihiii I have a Hasbin Hotel request!!! Was wondering if you could do some headcanons for Vox and Lucifer with an S/O who loves gifting them their drawings but gets really nervous when they watch them do their work? If this isn't exactly your "Cup of Tea" or you just dunno how to write this, feel free to ignore, no hard feelings!:]

Lucifer

He is always so excited when you gift him drawing.

He will sing your praises (sometimes literally)

This man is the first to compliment you.

He will ask you about your technique, your mediums, your inspirations.

He will also point out little things that he noticed that maybe you didn’t even notice where there.

He is 100% that friend who looks at your work and goes “Oh! That’s how these two are connected, right?” and you either are like “That’s such a brilliant idea” or “Yeah, absolutely, that was soooo intentional.” He will not notice if you’re lying through your teeth. He is too busy appreciating the art.

He will ask you if he can watch you just so he can understand your process and therefore understand you better.

He is so respectful when you say no. He is a creative. He understands.

If you’re inclined to though, he will make space for you in his workshop with your backs facing each other so neither of you have to be watched.

Vox

This man pretends like he doesn’t care but really, he does. He cares so much.

He will point out where you fucked up but in the same breath offer a way for you to fix it.

He is the one who gives you an unfiltered opinion on everything that’s wrong with what you made if you ask (otherwise he mostly talks trivial, like you forgot to blend this thing). If you bring in Velvette and Valentino as well, prepare to be read to filth.

If he finds you stressing over past things that you can no longer fix without ruining your drawing entirely, he’s going to turn on the Edna Mode energy and basically say, “Don’t look at the past, it distracts from the now.” (He says while being obsessed with the past. Not so easy, is it, Vox?)

Your supplies just magically refills whenever your almost out.

Where’d it come from? Who knows! It’s not like he has access to your online shopping history so there’s no way he would know what to get you. He’s not an artist.

He is the most subtly unsubtle show off when it comes to your art.

He’s going to a meeting? Well, how did these colorful pages end up amongst his files? A true mystery.

His office walls? Filled with your best drawings framed. The artist? Oh, his lovely partner. It’s a hobby they have, no big deal.

He would watch you draw even if you told him you felt uncomfortable with the idea.

Subtle stepping over boundaries. Your art room is bugged so he can watch you at every angle. No harm, you’ll never know.

He does find watching you work relaxing though. If he’s particularly stressed, he’ll find himself pulling up your feed and just watching you for what he thought was minutes but turned out to be hours and oh shit! Now he’s even more behind in his work schedule! Fuck!

[cauldronblssd]

Morning edition -

Read on AO3

For @elucienweekofficial Day 7 - AU

Thank you to @panicatthenightcourt for helping me with a smutty idea for this fic! I hope you like it. 💚

The sound of claws scraping against the fabric of her headboard alerted Elain that her morning had begun. She groaned, covering her face with a pillow to drown out the sound of her cat’s insistent alarm letting her know that he was ready for breakfast. Faint sounds of morning traffic buzzed around her, another sign of the inevitability of the start of her day.  

Elain drowsily padded to the kitchen. She filled the coffeepot with grounds and water before turning her attention to her cat. Suri hopped up on the counter, circling her as she reached for a can of wet food, his paws tapping out a little dance. He nudged her hand with his soft cheek, urging her to move more quickly, as she popped open the putrid smelling can of wet food and dished it out onto a plate.  

The steady drip of the coffeepot began as she turned on the radio she’d bought for cheap at a thrift store. She’d rushed to buy it in excitement when her sister, Feyre, landed her first job at the station as an arts and culture reporter, insisting that it wasn’t enough to hear her voice over the online stream - she needed to hear it on a physical radio.  

Since, she’d grown into a habit of listening every morning, though her sister wouldn’t be on for another forty-five minutes. The familiar sound of her favorite news reporter filled the room, his voice smooth and low as he spoke of some bill to raise sales tax for the benefit of real estate developers.  

Generally, listening to the news would set her on edge, there rarely being anything good to say. But listening to the deep lull of his radio voice as he interviewed a city council person, serious and yet inviting, soothed her. It had become part of her morning routine, something that she looked forward to as surely as her cup of coffee. She’d tried to imagine him, from time to time, as equally handsome to match his deep velvet voice. However, whenever she tried, she remembered the droll dinner she’d been to with Feyre’s boss, a man probably four decades her senior, wearing penny loafers. She’d liked him all the same, and he’d sent her free tickets to a local jazz festival.  

Elain continued to listen absently as she drank her cup of coffee and watered the myriad of plants lining the windowsill of her kitchen. Every room of her house had a few, but her kitchen got the most sunlight, something she took advantage of by something placing green and growing on every available surface.  

She looked in her fridge, unfortunately empty of food after hosting her sisters and their friends for a movie night earlier in the week. Nesta and Emerie had been training for a marathon, and needed a constant intake of carbs to make up for it – or so they claimed as they scarfed down everything in her apartment. Her phone made a vibrating noise against the hard linoleum of her counters.  

Feyre: Good morning 😇  Elain: ...  Feyre: What, no good morning for your little sister?  Elain: How good the morning is depends on what you want, Fey  Feyre: Would you pretty, pretty please bring me a coffee at the studio?   Elain: Doesn't your work have coffee?   Feyre: Yeah and it’s very economical and tastes terrible. This is PUBLIC radio.   Elain: Isn’t your workday over in a couple hours anyway?   Feyre: Yes, but I have a date after work...  Elain: With that rich guy?   Feyre: Rhys!   Feyre: Please he’s so hot and I don’t want to fall asleep and drool.   Feyre: He’s taking me to the opera and he’s got box seats.   Elain: FINE but you’re taking me to the craft festival this weekend.  Elain: And you’re buying my beer.  Feyre: DEAL  Feyre: Iced oat-milk latte with extra foam pls 

Elain shook her head, setting her phone back down to hop in the shower. After visiting Feyre, she planned to visit the community gardens. She had a small plot with some lettuce and cucumbers growing that would need watering and her flower bed would need weeding. With that in mind, she threw on a pair of denim shorts and a loose t-shirt. She braided her hair back away from her face in hopes of keeping the dirt out of it. It wasn’t much, but she planned to just run into bring her sister the coffee and get out as quickly as possible before the afternoon sun started to kick in. Chucking on her sneakers, she grabbed her keys to head out of the house, giving Suri one last kiss on the head.  

Elain walked to the coffee shop near her house after stopping to talk to her elderly neighbor, Pam, who liked to have her morning coffee on her porch steps and chat with anyone that passed. She tended to talk for too long, but Elain didn’t mind listening. After growing up with Nesta and Feyre, she felt used to it. After hitting the walk sign at all three intersections she had to cross to get to Scythia, Elain had decided it was her lucky day.  

Elain popped open the glass door, entering the air-conditioned chill. She immediately spotted the familiar vibrant red hair of Vassa as she stepped inside. Vassa always changed her appearance, and she currently had it cut into what she assured Elain was a trendy mullet - short on the top with longer strands in the back that reached the base of her neck. Her arms, covered in brightly colored tattoos, flexed as she tamped down on some espresso.  

The room was loud, between the music Jurian always had blaring over the speakers, the screeching sounds of steaming milk, and the chatter of people seated at the tables throughout the shop. At the back, Jurian perched on their brightly colored pink couch as he crouched over a laptop screen in front of him, paperwork piled to the side. She offered him a friendly wave before walking up the counter to her friend.  

“Hey beautiful!” Vassa smiled broadly at her. “You’re not usually in here this early.”  

“I’m headed to check on my romaine, but I promised Feyre I’d bring her something at work.”  

“That’s generous of you.” Vassa quirked one eyebrow as she took the two empty glass jars that Elain handed to her.  

“She was up late. New boyfriend.” The last part she said with a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned towards the counter.  

“How’d she meet this one?” Vassa turned to look at her as she measured out the milk for their drinks. 

“Some work thing. His company donates to the station.”  

“Scandalous.” Vassa offered her a cheeky wink. “Does he have any rich brothers?” 

“Planning a backup boyfriend?” Vassa and Jurian had been together for three years, and despite their constant arguing, they never wavered, living together while also running the shop.  

“For you, dumbass.”  

Elain swatted at her. “Thanks for the lookout, but I don’t need my little sister to set me up.”  

“How about me then, Jurian knows this guy who...”  

Elain cut her off with a hand in the air. “I love you, Vass, but after you set me up with that guy obsessed with birds, you’ve lost your credibility.”  

Vassa handed her two jars now filled to the brim with coffee, the milk swirling cloudlike in the glass. “He was hot, but point taken.”  

Elain shoved a generous tip into the jar at the counter before waving to a half-distracted Vassa, already in the midst of preparing a particularly sugary drink for a teenager waiting patiently.  

***** 

The walk to the radio station where Feyre worked was long and the ice in Feyre’s drink quickly began to melt. Elain held the overfull drink carefully as she stepped towards the door of the studio. She fumbled as she reached the door, her hands full and her grip precarious.  

“I’ve got it” a familiar voice called from behind her. Against her will, Elain shivered in response. God, she was acting like a weirdo in front of this probably middle-aged married man on his way to work.  She focused her gaze on the cement pavement of the sidewalk, blinding as the sun gleamed overhead. She watched his shadow as he came closer to her.  

It took but a few long strides for him to reach her, a broad elegant hand reaching to grasp the door. His body was close behind hers, allowing her to scent the warm spice of his cologne. His wife probably bought it for him, she reminded herself. But as she watched a tendon in his muscled forearm flex with the movement, she couldn’t help but scan his unadorned hand for a wedding band.  

“Do you know where you’re headed?” The door opened, and she shut her eyes to adjust the dull fluorescent lighting. His body stepped closer to hers, the heat from his hand approaching her back without ever touching.  

Her voice squeaked when she spoke. “Just dropping off coffee.” She lifted one as if to prove her point.  

“Ah. Delivery?” He’d come to stand beside her, but Elain wouldn’t let herself to look up. She didn’t want to break the spell of his voice so close to hers, afraid of what she might find.  

God she must seem like an idiot. “OH. Uh no, actually. Just for my sister.”  

“I should have known. You must be Feyre’s sister.” She looked up, finally, forcing herself to act like an adult and not a shy adolescent who had never spoken to a crush before. She was forced to crane her neck to meet his gaze and OH.  

Lucien Vanserra was a god, easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His tall frame was equally broad, the muscles of his chest seeming to strain against the smooth fabric of his checked shirt. He’d left only the first two buttons open, a professional, and yet just the hint of his gleaming brown skin underneath caused her mouth to go dry. He smiled widely at her, causing a scar over his eye to bunch at the corners. His eyes were a beautiful russet brown, mirthful as he watched her stumble for words.  

“You know her?” Elain offered dumbly.  

“Against my own will, I assure you.” He gestured one hand in front of him to indicate that they move.  

Elain’s feet felt too heavy, stuck to the ground as she struggled to recalibrate her mind. This could not be the same man who just spoke about taxes of all things. His full lips were too beautiful, his voice too sultry, to be bogged down with such tedious minutiae.  

They wandered through a hallway covered in scuffed linoleum tile, clearly a carryover from decades prior. Elain paid no attention to doors they passed or where they turned. She felt as if her world had been turned around, her mind turning to accept this new piece of information. Lucien, the man who mediated a debate for city council, who reported on the new wastewater plant, who she’d fantasized about on more than one occasion, was gorgeous and walking next to her and – Elain cursed herself, clearing her mind of her spiraling thoughts.  

It had been too long since she’d broken up with Graysen, a dry spell that had had all but turned into unwilling chastity. She feared her summons for the convent would come any day. Could one be recruited for that sort of thing? The cheerful laugh of Feyre brought her back to her senses, followed by an unfamiliar voice muttering something in response.  

Next to her, Lucien sighed dramatically. “Rhysand is here.”  

Elain bit her cheek to keep from laughing. “You don’t like him?” She couldn’t look at him, fearing the flush already forming would give her away.  

“I do, he’s just been here...a lot lately.” He looked at her with a pointed lift of his brow.  

She smirked, but said nothing. Far be it for her to reveal a torrid workplace affair her sister may or may not be engaged in. Though technically, she supposed, Rhysand didn’t work for the station, he just...sponsored it. She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. Would Rhys pull his funding when Feyre inevitably got bored and moved on, as she always seemed to do?  

Lucien knocked pointedly on the open doorway with a sharp rap, announcing their presence before entering. What could they be doing in an office to necessitate that?  

“Feyre, a visitor for you.” Feyre turned her face towards Elain and immediately winced apologetically. Not comprehending, Elain scanned her sister, wondering if she had been caught in something scandalous after all. That’s when she saw. TRAITOR.  

Feyre stood with a large plastic cup in hand, holding some kind of sweetened drink concoction laden in caramel drizzle. She didn’t even like sweet drinks! She had teased Nesta mercilessly for her preferences, had labelled her as basic on more than one occasion.  

Elain smiled with chagrin, not letting her ire seep through in front of Rhys and Lucien. “I see you’ve got your caffeine covered.” The condensation from the glass began to drip down her hand uncomfortably. She turned towards Lucien, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed in amusement.  

“I don’t suppose you like an oat milk latte?” He was polished from head to toe, his shirt pressed and his large black watch gleaming like the shine of his auburn hair. She became very aware of her own lackluster appearance, her shirt advertising Gwyn and Emerie’s gym that she admittedly rarely visited.  

“I’m more of a tea guy myself.” A frown began to pull at the corners of her mouth, her irritation at her sister unfairly cast in the direction of this innocent bystander.  

He smirked, stepping towards her. “But I can’t say no to a free drink.” His hand brushed hers as he took it from her hands, and she bit her lip to contain the gasp caught in her throat. She watched with lurid fascination as he lifted the jar to his lips, the clear glass allowing her to see his tongue as he licked some water off the side before taking a sip. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. His eyes met hers as he pulled it from his face, their gazes locking before Rhysand interrupted.  

“Nice of you to escort her, Vanserra.” His tone implied that it was not nice at all. If Elain had more sense, she might have unraveled whatever male bravado was taking place in front of her, what tangled web her sister might be weaving. Instead, she stood dumbly, all words gone for the moment.  

“Oh, um.” she fiddled with the tail of her braid, twisting it between her fingers, “Yes, thanks.”  

Feyre cringed, as if embarrassed at her sister’s poor social skills. Normally, Elain would be the one to smooth things over, to offer whatever polite phrase a situation required.  

“Anyway, I should go. I’ve got to check on my lettuce.” God, she sounded like an idiot. Rhysand grinned devilishly, his smile revealing his unusually sharp canines.  

“Wouldn’t want to leave that lettuce unsupervised, Elain. It was nice to meet you.” Elain silently cursed him even as she had to admit he was handsome. He exuded charisma, the cut of his sweater too sharp to truly be casual. He was different than Feyre’s usual type, a challenge to which her sister would certainly rise.  

Elain only nodded before quickly exiting down the hall. Damn her and her lusty brain, she hadn’t paid attention to the direction back to the entrance at all. Each hall was the same dull gray, covered in tacky textured wallpaper from the eighties. The old scent of cigarette smoke clung to it. Elain needed fresh air, needed the green of her plants and the scent of fresh soil. Just as she was considering how ludicrous it would be to airdrop her location to her sister in an office building of all places, she startled to attention as an older person with a badge labelling them as Bryaxis, stepped from the shadows. “Exit is first door on your left.”  

Elain waved half-heartedly, “got it, thanks!” before moving her short legs at a brisker pace towards the exit. If her sister wanted coffee delivered to her desk again, she could call Nesta.  

***** 

Elain was sorting through her, admittedly cluttered, closet for a tote bag to bring to the craft fair when she felt her phone vibrate.  

Feyre: Downstairs  Elain: Almost ready, come up?  Feyre: In a tow away zone  

Goddammit. Elain reached her hand in and grabbed the first bag she could find before slipping into a pair of shoes and rushing out the door and racing down the creaky stairs. Her sister awaited her in an old Honda civic, something poppy blasting from her staticky stereo system.  

“My neighbors are all retired, you’re gonna get me a noise complaint.” 

Feyre, ever stubborn, turned up the music one octave louder. “Please, they are too busy ogling you.” Elain scrunched her nose in disapproval. “You look cute, by the way.”  

Elain smoothed out the cotton of her dress. “What did you do?” 

“NOTHING! Can’t a girl be nice to her sister?” Elain narrowed her eyes but shrugged, noting her sister taking the side street leading towards Scythia.  

“Coffee first?”  

“Always.” Elain said nothing about the dark bruise that looked like a bitemark clearly visible on her sister’s neck beneath her wavy hair.  

“Good time with fancy pants?”  

“Rhys!” She admonished her. Elain shrugged, a clear indication that she had no intention of calling him by that anytime soon. “And yes, the opera was...interesting.”  

“Interesting how?” While her sister had an artistic spirit, she’d certainly never expressed an interest in the opera before. That was more of Nesta’s scene. Feyre grinned mischievously.  

“GOD never mind, don’t tell me.” 

“Boring” Feyre scoffed, rolling up with a smooth glide to parallel park. Elain would not admit that she was impressed, that she would walk to the shop in almost any weather to avoid this very parking situation.  

“Come on, my little deviant. Coffee awaits.” Elain flipped her hair dramatically as she stormed into the coffee shop with a flourish. Vassa would side with her, she was mostly certain. She grinned as she saw her leaning across the counter, her laugh resounding throughout the small space. That smile fell short when she realized who she who was making her laugh so gleefully.  

Feyre, unperturbed, bounded up, bumping her shoulder with Lucien’s almost aggressively. Lucien didn’t flinch, his body unmoving as he glanced down at her. His mouth opened to say something to her when he turned, catching Elain in his vision. He watched her for a moment, his eyes moving up and down to take her in, before turning back to Feyre. Vassa’s own eyes widened as she looked towards Elain gesturing between Lucien and Feyre in question. Lucien caught the motion and scowled at Vassa. 

Feyre, less subtly made a gagging sound. “Him, god no!!”  

Lucien placed his hand over his heart dramatically. “Ouch, Feyre. My ego is fragile.”  

“Please, your ego is the size of the state of California.” Taking the distraction as the time to approach, Elain sidled up to the counter to face Vassa.  

"No jars to return, sorry! I’ll bring them next time.” Vassa half-heartedly gave her a stern look, before one slid down the counter.  

Vassa glanced once again assessingly before beaming a broad smile, her blue eyes shining brightly. “You’ve met Lucien as well?”  

Lucien cleared his throat. “Briefly, she came to see Feyre at work.”  

“Ah.” Vassa smiled knowingly, not seeming dissuaded from whatever she was scheming.  

Feyre looked at Lucien and then at Vassa.  “Did you tell her your dirty secret?” 

Lucien’s eyes widened and he glanced towards Elain. “What secret?”  

“You’re a tea drinker.”  

Vassa nodded solemnly. “A fate worse than death. But we keep him around for his good looks.”  

Feyre rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”  

Vassa nodded towards Elain’s empty bag. “Where are you two pretty ladies headed?” 

Elain smiled, about to explain about the macrame planter she planned on buying when Feyre chimed in, “Want to join us, Loosh?”  

She ignored the irrational spike of jealousy at Feyre’s close relationship with Lucien. Lucien, looked towards her.  

“Don’t call me that. I have plans with Jurian, if he ever gets off his ass!” The last part was yelled pointedly to where Jurian sat perched atop his pink sofa cursing at his computer. He threw up his middle finger towards Lucien without so much as a glance.  

Elain laughed, “With company like that, I can see why you can’t tear yourself away.” 

Lucien grinned as he looked her over, as if he might consider bailing on his friend after all. His eyes paused at her hands holding her empty tote bag ready to be filled with stickers and knick knacks she had no space for in her tiny apartment.  

“Nice bag.” He said it with his brows lifted and a cocky grin on his face. 

Elain furrowed her brows in consternation, wondering what could arouse such a response before she looked down at the beige bag hooked under her arm. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she stared at the I love public radio bag she’d earned for free at an event she’d volunteered at with Feyre. She reminded herself he couldn’t possibly know that it was his voice she thought about, he was just being playful.  

Still, she could have kissed Jurian when he trounced over, slinging an arm around her as he rolled his eyes at Lucien instinctively. “Are you bothering my favorite customer, Lucien?”  

“What am I then, you ingrate?” 

“A nuisance, clearly.”  

Feyre had become absorbed in her phone as she chewed on the corner of her lip. Only when the group had come to a comfortable silence did she look up. Elain stared at her drink sitting on the counter and reluctantly extricated herself from Jurian’s arm to go claim it.  

Despite having looked forward to the craft fair with her sister all week, a part of her was disappointed Lucien couldn’t come, that she might not have an excuse to see him after this. As they walked away, she found herself turning a half step back to look at him, some words lost on her lips. He too, turned to watch her, his jaw flexing as he waited for her to say something. Instead, she just turned and walked away with Feyre, squinting at the bright glare of the sun.  

**** 

Elain was lounging on the couch, Suri curled up by her feet as she half watched reality TV and scrolled through her phone. It wasn’t the most exciting Saturday night, but after a long week at work and a day out in the sun, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Open containers of rice and tofu still littered her coffee table that she’d had the foresight to pick up on her way home, knowing she wouldn’t want to leave once she enveloped herself in the blankets on her couch.  

Her view of the recipe blog was interrupted by a text from an unknown number popping up on her screen. A spam text, she reasoned, or something equally boring from her pharmacy. Still, she opened the message and her heart skipped a bit.  

Hey, it’s Lucien  Elain: Oh, hi it’s Elain. But you knew that already ☺️  Elain: Unless you were hoping for Feyre 👀  Lucien: Talking to Feyre during the work day is more than enough.   Elain: She wouldn’t text you back unless you were Rhys, anyway  Elain: Speaking from experience here  Lucien: Good thing I’m talking to you then 

Elain struggled to formulate a response. Was he flirting with her? He messaged her on a Saturday night, which certainly suggested more than a friendly message with his friend’s sister. The idea of flirting with Lucien Vanserra both excited and terrified her. After all, this was the man whose voice she woke into in the mornings, the same voice that sometimes visited her at night in her dreams. He’d seemed charming in the briefest moments she’d talked to him at his work and at the coffeeshop, but not alone. What if he was a creep? He did clearly get her number from someone else after all...probably Jurian. If he gets to be at the center of gossip, he’ll give any information away.  

Elain: A pleasant surprise...I think. Unless you’re trying to rope me into helping Vassa re stain their back deck, in which case, get lost. I already told her no three times.   Lucien: Damn, I never tell her no.   Elain: A dangerous state of affairs.  Lucien: I guess you’ll be sitting pretty next weekend while I’m sanding and staining.   Elain: She’s a micromanager too. Get ready to have your technique corrected.  Lucien: I don’t usually get corrected on my technique.  

Did he just? Elain couldn’t tell if he took his home remodeling tasks that seriously, or if he really was inserting a sexual innuendo into a conversation with a stranger about routine deck maintenance. Well, a little confidence doesn’t hurt, she supposed.  

Elain: Feyre did say today that you have a big ego.   Lucien: Casting aspersions on me already. I’ll remember that when she asks me to look the other way while she sneaks off with Rhys during work hours.   Elain: It’s sounds like you’re getting pushed around left and right.   Lucien: Your turn next.  

There was a pause, while Elain calculated what to say. Whereas before, she wasn’t sure if he had been flirting, she didn’t know how she could take this message another way. She wasn’t used to this. She’d been with Graysen for years, and for the last several he hardly noticed her at all, let alone took the time to flirt with her. Then, since their breakup, she’d taken time for herself, unwilling to give up her independence. Lucien, though... 

Lucien: What are you doing tonight?  

Elain bit her lip, taking a picture of her cartons of food and the reality TV in the background and sent it to him.  

Lucien: A wild Saturday night then? Let me take you out.  

Elain couldn’t help but laugh. It would take a fire to force her out of her pajamas right now.   Elain: Now? I’m in my PJ’s.   Lucien: Drinks on me. You can come in your PJ’s if you want. Fuzzy slippers and all.  

Elain thought about correcting him that she worse fuzzy socks, not slippers, but supposed it was semantics. The idea of getting dressed exhausted her, but she couldn’t deny the thrill of seeing him. When was the last time she felt, young, did something reckless?  

Elain stepped off the couch, extricating her feet gently from their warm spot under her cat. As she acclimated to her vertical position, she mentally calculated what it would take to make herself presentable.  

Elain: Nothing fancy  Lucien: Perfect, the bar down the street from Scythia’s? Rask? I can pick you up.  Elain: That’s alright, I’ll walk. See you there in an hour?   Lucien: I’m looking forward to it.  

Elain added a little heart to his message and then began frantically throwing apart her closet for something to wear. When did she buy so many cardigans? Everything in her wardrobe looked like it could have just as easily fit in at a retirement home.  

Under normal circumstances, she might have bothered Feyre or Nesta for something sexy to wear, or even Vassa, whose clothes were less sexy and more edgy and cool. But Elain did NOT want to admit what she had planned to Feyre, or Nesta by proxy, who would immediately reveal her secrets to their group chat, not to mention her friends. Vassa, too, would be left out of this given her and Jurian’s possible involvement. She couldn’t encourage them after that Koschei incident.  

Instead, she dug through all of her dresses, looking for something that looked appropriate to wear at night. She pushed past all her pastel dresses to one clingy number she’d bought on a whim and rarely worn, preferring loose styles that let her move freely. It was a deep green, simple, and yet it clung to her somewhat non-existent curves, giving her the illusion of breasts. Her hair was mussed from rolling around on the couch, she raked her fingers through the waves and hoped it appeared tousled rather than the bed head it truly was.  

It would have to do. She didn’t bother with makeup, deciding that if he wanted to bother her so late at night, he could see her barefaced. She spritzed on some perfume that she walked through as she headed out the door, grabbing her “I love public radio” bag along the way.  

It was a long walk, but the arm was warm and a breeze brushed against her cheeks. It smelled of the streets, cement and trash and that faint scent of something she didn’t care to imagine. She followed all the street laws, despite the diminished traffic in the evening, waiting at every crosswalk for the flashing sign to proceed despite the absence of any cars. Each pause had her rethinking, half tempted to turn and run back to the safety of her home and the comfort of her plants and her cat.  

This is what Vassa always teased her about. When they’d met, she’d been as social and outgoing as Vassa, able to match her energy from one house party and show and bar to the next. Recently, she’d become more of a homebody, favoring her plants and creature comforts in lieu of time in the outside world. She tried to remind herself she could do this, she’d never had a problem attracting men, besides.  

Lucien was an NPR reporter, an enthusiast of local politics and an active participant in the fall and spring fund drives. Surely, he couldn’t be a party animal either, with a call time of five AM or something else equally absurd. Still, it had been him who suggested they meet at the last minute. Was this a booty call? Would he still buy her drinks, then?  

It seemed a strange move to select your coworker’s sister for such an arrangement, but perhaps she was naive. She’d have to keep her head on her shoulders, even when he spoke to her with that low seductive voice or wore another well-fitted shirt that showed off his expansive chest. Elain squared her shoulders, resolving herself to be firm in her resolution not to go home with him that night as she entered the chaotic noise of the bar.  

Dim lights lit the space crowded full of people flanked at the bar and filling most of the tables. Along the back entrance, a group crowded around a pool table and the loud clank of balls rattling in the pockets reverberated against the cement walls.  

The low rasp of Lucien’s voice saying her name next to her ear startled her and she jumped, nearly falling over herself. His broad hands clasped her shoulders, holding her firm as he stood behind her.  

“I didn’t mean to startle you, I wasn’t sure you’d hear me if I called your name.”  

Elain turned to look at him, despite the part of her that wanted to lean into his hold, rest her head against his chest and allow herself to let go. Even in the grim lighting of the bar, he looked beautiful. His auburn hair cascaded around his shoulders, falling against his strong shoulders constrained within the fabric of his white shirt. He’d left more buttons loose than at the office, allowing her an unprecedented amount of skin. She wanted to reach for it, certain that his whole body ran hot, somehow. His hands on her arms had felt scalding against her skin.  

He looked at her, as if sensing the battle she had with her instincts. A smirk grew at the corner of his mouth as he stated “Cute pajamas. I almost wore my garfield pajama pants, I’m glad I changed my mind.”   

Elain laughed, feeling relieved to be more at ease. “You do not wear garfield pajamas.”  

“You’ll see.” She hoped she did, though she wouldn’t say so. Though she’d much prefer to see him out of the pajamas. “Should we grab a drink?”  

Elain nodded as he placed his hand at the small of her back, leading her towards the throng of people vying for the attention of the sole bartender. He towered over the crowd easily, an advantage Elain envied as everyone easily blocked her from view. He made some kind of gesture with a simple lift of his chin, and suddenly the bartender was in front of them. He motioned towards her, allowing her to order for herself.  

After Elain ordered a simple gin and tonic, he ordered his beer and they were seated at a table as far away from the exuberant noise as they could manage. Still, they leaned across the table to talk to each other, and Elain couldn’t help but breathe in the warm, woodsy scent of his cologne. His hair fell in front of his face as he spoke, and she longed to touch it, to tuck it behind his ear and see the scarred side of his face more clearly. It made him all the more beautiful, cruel and rugged despite his well-dressed appearance.  

“Well?” Elain looked towards him expectantly. He had invited her out to drinks, after all. Surely, he had some plan in mind.  

“Well, I’d like to get to know you, Elain.” He said this with a sultry tone that implied something different than the casual acquaintance he was offering.  

“Get to know me.” Though it was a question, the flatness of her tone implied that she doubted his claim very much. He wanted to sleep with her, and despite her earlier determination that she would not go home with him tonight, she found herself imagining undressing him, gently unfastening each of the buttons on his shirt and licking her way down as she went.  

“You seem surprised” He offered with a lift of the brow. “Is there something else you had in mind?” 

Elain huffed. “It’s you who invited me here tonight, Lucien. Get to know me then. Isn’t this what you do?”  

“Alright, you garden. Why?” He crossed his arms in front of himself, readying to rise to the challenge. 

“Why not? The world needs gardens.”  

Lucien smiled broadly at that. “Tell me more about that.”  

Elain bit her lip, thinking as she formulated a response. “It feels good to grow my own food, and to have some left over to share.” She paused, unsure if she wanted to share more. Lucien placed his hand face down on the table as if he might reach for her. “My family didn’t always have enough to eat growing up, and I couldn’t help” she corrected herself “didn’t help. I didn’t try. I don’t ever want to feel helpless like that again.”  

Lucien nodded, absorbing her words. “Food is what you like to grow then?”  

Here, Elain couldn’t stop her smile. “And flowers. The world needs some beauty, too. I grow native plants, so I can help the pollinators in the process. I help plant trees, too, once a month or so.”  

Lucien looked at her, his eyes full of warmth. “You’re incredible.”  

The flush on her cheeks bloomed, creeping down to her chest and up to her ears. “What about you? What do you like to do when you’re not on the radio?”  

“I like to be outside too, though I guess I take the more passive approach. I hike, swim, anything to be out in fresh air and sunshine.” Elain half laughed to herself, forcing down the joke about fresh air she was sure he’d heard too many times since working for public radio. “There’s a pond, outside of town, it’s beautiful in the spring. The water is a deep blue and I swear it shines like starlight. I could take you, sometime.”  

“I’d like that.” Elain didn’t hesitate, the offer of the clear pool and the company too enticing to feign resistance.  

After that, things were easier. Elain described the ill-fated hike she went on with Nesta and her friends, in which she’d vastly underestimated the training required to hike the Grand Canyon. Gwyn and Emerie completed the hike and Nesta very begrudgingly stayed behind with Elain after the first day when she couldn’t continue with her sore legs and the blisters on her feet. Nesta still didn’t let her live it down, promising never to take Elain on one of her trips again.  

That was just as well, Elain preferred the sort of vacations that involved exploring new cities and seeing sights to those that involved equipment and a rigorous fitness routine. She could see the Grand Canyon without climbing it, she reasoned.  

Lucien too, had stories of ill-fated travels, particularly those that involved Vassa and Jurian. Vassa once went missing for two days, apparently of her own choice. He laughed easily at her jokes, and sometimes his own, putting her at ease. It felt like she’d always known him somehow, rather than just the hour or two it had truly been. When there was nothing but the sound of ice clinking in her glass, Elain felt unsure of her next move. Should she offer to buy the next round of drinks? Invite him back to her apartment? While she weighed her choices, Lucien took action.  

“Should I get you another drink? Or do I risk the wrath of your bunny slippers?” He looked all too pleased with himself, and Elain huffed as she considered her response. 

“I’ll have you know they are socks, not slippers. You can come back to my apartment and see for yourself, if you’d like.” Her stomach twisted the moment the words left her mouth. The proposition was bold and entirely humiliating at the same time. Was there a less sexy way to ask a man back to your apartment than with the promise of fuzzy socks? If there was, she couldn’t think of it.  

Lucien, undeterred, leaned forward on his crossed arms. “Are you asking me to come home with you, Elain?”  

Elain stuttered, unable to form coherent words. Lucien, placed a hand on her wrist in encouragement. Thoughts of him holding her down by her wrists encouraged her to continue. “Um, yes?”  

Lucien didn’t wait any longer, dropping off their empty drinks at the bar before placing his hand again on the small of her back. “Let’s go.”  

The car ride was brief and Elain was both amused and unsurprised to learn than Lucien drove a very practical and environmentally friendly Prius, rather than something showy he surely could have afforded however he afforded the nice clothes one certainly couldn’t buy on a public radio salary. His hand found her thigh as he drove down the quiet streets. When he parked in front of her apartment building, her nerves caught up with her again. Casual sex was not Elain’s forte. She had a feeling Lucien had more experience in that arena, judging by the relaxed way he touched her or his boldness in leaving the bar.  

He stood closely behind her as she jingled her keys in the door, unlocking the several deadbolts she had in place from living alone. She could feel his breath on her neck. The moment they entered her small apartment, Suri raced to the door, weaving between Lucien’s legs. He didn’t react, standing in place taking in her apartment.  

“You like cats?” She tried not to squint her eyes as she reassessed his character. His first red flag, not immediately adoring Suri like most people who entered her apartment.  

“I’m allergic” he winced.  

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her voice coming out haughty. “How allergic?”  

He held up his hands in defense. “Not that allergic.”   

“Suri’s not leaving, so.” She raised her brow as in indication that he could leave if he had a problem with it.  

“Dually noted. I’ll take some medicine in the morning, it’ll be fine.”  

“In the morning, huh?” Elain placed her keys on the hook on the wall and kicked off her shoes.  

 “I’ll be busy until then.”  

Elain was about to make a joke about him being over confident, when he stepped in front of her, placing his hand on her jaw. She gasped, leaning up to him instinctively. He met his mouth with hers, all force and heat. She reached up, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck as she had to stand on her toes to lean into him properly.  

She’d only just kissed him, and already she felt desperate not to stop. His lips felt plush against her own, his hands on her face both firm and tender. When his teeth grazed her bottom lip, she let out a whimper, her mouth parting. The slide of his tongue into her mouth might unfurled something in her. She understood why he promised to be busy all night. If he used his tongue like this, she would lock him in her apartment if she had to. She felt desperate, greedy for him to touch her, to her body align with his own.  

Elain gently pushed at his chest with the tips of her fingers and Lucien froze instantly, his body going still as he looked down at her in concern. “Sit” she ordered with more force than she anticipated. He turned his head towards where she gestured, walking silently to the couch next to her still open containers of food. He raked his hands through his hair, as if nervous the kiss had already ended poorly.  

“Elain, I” She cut him off as her knees dipped into the soft cushions of the couch straddling his lap as she settled on top of him. Her face cupped his cheek as the other roamed any exposed skin around his collar.  

“Lucien.” It was a plea, one said with half a breath, all she could manage when she felt the heat of his skin under her palm. The moment felt surreal, happening too quickly, and yet there was an anxious flutter pulsing in her that demanded more, faster. She didn’t have to wait long as Lucien pulled her closer by the waist. Unlike her own roaming, his fingers stayed where they firmly gripped her, the other settling on her calf where it rested on the other side of his thighs. Her dress pulled up higher around her thighs from the wide spread of her legs, revealing more skin. Yet he remained still, focused.  

His mouth began to move more freely as he licked a broad stripe along the side of her neck. She gasped and he nipped at it, before pulling her earlobe between his teeth. “Elain” he repeated, this time with his lips brushing against her ear. The feel of his breath and the desperation in his tone, almost whimpering, sent goosebumps along her arms.  

This was not just any voice in her ear, but Lucien’s. It was the same voice she heard every morning, and not. It had taken on a gravely tone, his voice raw instead of the smooth rolling tones that he used on the radio.  

She wanted to draw every note out of him. Elain rolled her hips, testing his reaction. It was her that moaned first, when she felt how hard he was underneath her. She wanted to look down, to guess at the size of him through his well-tailored trousers, but that would pull her away from the way he panted in her ear. She found she wanted that, more.  

She sank down further, grinding against him with force, allowing some of the friction to rub against the lace of her panties. The pressure sent jolts of pleasure directly to her clit. The chaste hand on her calf moved up then. Lucien slid his broad hand from her calf up her thigh to her waist, guiding her as she moved. “You’re perfect.” He groaned into her ear.  

His hips rolled up into her hers in a smooth, undulating rhythm. Every movement he made was easy and graceful. She’d hardly have described dry humping as elegant, but with Lucien, his soft hair curling around the scar on his face and the luxuriant tenor of his voice, it was. She felt more beautiful too, from the way he looked at her reverently. His eyes were half lidded and a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips as he watched her. He toyed with her hair, pulling gently at the nape of her neck to bring her lips back against his own.  

Instead of the soft, wet slide of before, she sucked a bit. He was completely in control, but his movements were never rough or sloppy, but exacting, each one edged with promise. Elain whimpered into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders. She needed more.  

“Take off your dress for me.” The words were a demand in her ear.  

Elain didn’t think before she complied, pulling her hands back from where they pulled at his shirt to grab at the edge of her dress, lifting it over her head with the arch of her back. He didn’t hesitate, moving his hands over every new exposed bit of skin. She watched his eyes as she unclasped her bra, revealing her admittedly small breasts. Lucien palmed each in a broad hand before roaming his thumbs across her nipples. He pinched one sharply, pulling another gasp from Elain.  

She liked the way Lucien took his time with her, never rushing to the next step, needing to take his own pleasure. Instead, he let his hands trace her body as his mouth dropped to one breast, laving at her nipples softly while he tweaked and pulled at the other. The combination of the sensations, both tender and demanding drove her wild. She’d never been so wet, all but slipping against her panties as she ground against him once more.  

She found she didn’t want to rush him, excited to see what he would do next. She did, however, begin to toy at the buttons of his shirt, almost hoping he wouldn’t notice as she undressed him. When she got half way to his abdomen, she couldn’t reach around his arms and huffed in frustration.  

Lucien, pulled back, smiling lazily up at her. “Did you need something, love?” 

“Yes, take it off.” He raised his eyebrows in question. “Please.”  

Lucien made quick work of the buttons before all but ripping his shirt off. Instead of the chance to ogle at his very muscular chest as she intended, Lucien lifted her easily by the legs before placing her back down on the couch on her back.  

Lucien didn’t crawl over her like she expected. Instead, he sank to his knees, pulling her legs over his shoulders. Elain flushed, embarrassed at how exposed she felt and yet unable to look away as his eyes roamed her body from this angle, taking in her face and breasts before looking at the obviously dark spot of red lace between her legs.  

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He praised as he began to run his knuckle up and down the wetness through her panties. He pulled, causing the fabric to rub almost uncomfortably against her clit. “Look at this pretty, pink, pussy.” 

“Lucien” she groaned. She didn’t want to rush him, but... She could feel his breath on her, and his hands running tantalizingly along her inner thighs. She needed something and she feared she’d lose control soon.  

Lucien lifted away from her legs as he pulled her underwear down her thighs tantalizingly slowly. He began his casual perusal again, soaking a thumb through her wetness. Just as she was sure he was about to start rubbing in earnest, he looked at her and gave one sharp slap against her pussy. Elain gasped, uncertain what would come next.  

He wasted no time, licking softly at the hurt, her clit now even more sensitive and desperate for his touch. His tongue licked broad stripes between her folds, moving down to circle between her opening. He felt warm and soft and wet and Elain already had to cover her mouth to contain herself from making noises that would certainly wake her elderly neighbors. Her other hand found his hair, pressing his mouth firmly against her as he sucked in sloppy open-mouthed kisses. The wet noises were obscene, ugly in a way she found satisfying from composed and debonair Lucien.  

Every time Elain felt her orgasm begin to crest, Lucien would pull away, sucking on her folds or delivering sharp bites to inner thighs. She began to feel frustrated, huffing and whining in hopes that Lucien would give her what she wanted. She knew he could and yet, he chose not to do it.  

It was different with some men, who could never make her come until she begrudgingly touched herself. Lucien circled the outside of her clit, just the barest of brushes, letting his saliva drip down until it collected with her own juices. He was completely in control, choosing what he would give her, all she could do was take. It frustrated her, and yet letting herself go to it felt better than she’d expected. Her thoughts were a blur, just heat and desire and that frantic feeling crawling up her spine. She couldn’t hold still, Lucien pressing her down with one firm hand. Her cunt ached, her clit throbbing. Lucien’s thumb continued to toy with her entrance while he lapped softly at her clit.  

She said his name over and over, begging. He looked up at her from between her legs with a wink. She watched with surprise as he moved one hand down to his own body, the sound of the zipper of his pants ratcheting up her excitement once more. Instead of moving on top of her as she expected, she saw the telltale sign of his arm pumping as he stroked his own cock as he continued to lick her. He began to groan as he licked, his breath hot against her skin.  

“Let me touch you.” She gripped the upholstery of her couch, trying to hold herself back. She couldn’t even see him, and she wanted to watch, at least.  

He flicked at her clit. “Do you want to come or do you want to touch me?” 

“Both” Elain answered immediately. What kind of question was that? You’d think he didn’t know her at all. Which, she supposed, he didn’t.  

“Lay back and be a good girl, Elain. You’ll come when I’m ready.”  

Lucien made a big show of increasing his own movements of his cock, cursing to himself as he sucked on her clit sporadically. Elain must be drunk on her need for an orgasm, because she could have sworn Lucien was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Just watching his face and listening to the noises he made as he touched himself was intensely erotic.  

“Fuck, Lucien.”  

“Yes, Elain?” He lifted his face from between her legs, turning his head to the side to eye her curiously. 

“You’re so hot.” was all she managed. Like a god damned idiot. 

Lucien rewarded her with a broad smile, kissing the side of her knee before leaning back down and sucking at her clit. His tongue continued to stroke at her as he sucked and Elain’s orgasm arrived at last, her whole-body rocking with pleasure, her back arching and contorting, like she’d never experienced. His large hand came to cover her mouth, containing the unearthly noises she was releasing.  

When her body began to relax, Lucien came over her, kissing her as he ran soothing strokes up and down her arm. Elain, embarrassingly, clung to him with her arms and legs. He hummed a soft sound as he continued to press his lips against her own in a series of soft kisses. At last, Elain began to relax and came to the disturbing realization that Lucien hadn’t come. She reached between them to fumble for his cock, ready and eager to take over the job he’d already started. Lucien gently grabbed her hands, interlacing their fingers before holding her hands out to the side.  

“Next time.” He kissed her again, this time his tongue danced inside her mouth, his movements certain.  

He wedged his body besides hers on the narrow couch, and she shifted to make room, all but laying on top of him as her head rested on his chest. Still, it felt nice, her body relaxed and content as she nestled into him. His arm wrapped around her, his hand toying in her hair. It all felt intense and intimate for a random hook up. Still, he’d said next time.  

She would unravel it in the morning, she decided. Instead, she let her mind lull into nothingness, her hands focusing on the warm feeling of Lucien’s skin and tender way he pressed his cheek against the top of her head as his breathing slowed. 

When Elain woke on the couch the next morning, her first thought was that her neck was broken. She’d twisted into an especially uncomfortable position, her head at an unnatural angle and her leg all but falling off the side of the couch. Next to her feet sat a very angry little cat, who seemed perturbed that she did not sleep in her assigned place and she did not feed him on time.  

It was only after Elain began to sit up and realized that, yes, she was naked, that she remembered why she had slept on the couch at all. Lucien had been there, and apparently, left. She tried not to wince at the sting of rejection. Of course he left, there were all but strangers. Just because he’d eaten her out didn’t mean he wanted to stay for breakfast.  

Elain tried to calm herself, fighting the simultaneous outrage and disappointment as she fumbled to the bedroom for a t-shirt to throw on before beginning her morning. She looked at the radio, taunting her. It was the weekend, Lucien wouldn't be on the air, still it felt like an insult.  

Would she ever be able to listen to the news again? Perhaps she’d just become willfully ignorant of the world around her so that she never had to think of the news or reporters again. Or worse, she’d watch one of those exhausting twenty-four-hour news channels that grated on her nerves.  

Elain walked over to the drying rack to grab a clean bowl for Suri’s food when she saw the dishes from her Chinese food last night, washed and in the sink. She opened the fridge, eyeing her boxes of food neatly lined in the fridge. Well, if he meant to let her down easy by doing her dishes, she supposed there could be worse ways. Perhaps he hoped that she wouldn’t tell Feyre about it. Not that she would, she’d never live it down with her sisters. As she walked over to start her morning coffee, she saw a note scribbled on the back of a piece of mail set atop it.  

Elain -   I’m sorry I had to leave early. I’ve got to get home and walk my dog and I didn’t want to wake you.   I need to see you again.  -Lucien 

Elain smiled as she turned on the coffee pot and turned on the radio, an old episode of Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me playing as she went about caring for her plants. Was Lucien the kind of person that knew the answers? He seemed like he would be. Lucien seemed like the sort of person that would know the answers to all the trivia questions and be entirely too smug about it. Nesta would either love him or throttle him. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.  

***** 

Elain had never listened to the radio as avidly as she had the last few days. The thrill of a text from Lucien arriving mere moments after she stopped hearing his voice on air was something that wouldn’t get old. Was it normal to feel aroused while you listened to someone talk about air quality on the radio? Probably not. Still, Elain could have touched herself from listening to his voice alone. Every sound and clearing of his throat made her think of the way he moved his lips, how his tongue danced endlessly across her body. Whenever he took a particularly deep breath, she thought of the way he moaned into her as he stroked himself.  

Her life was a golden wash of Lucien, Lucien, Lucien.  

When Feyre texted her asking her to bring her coffee again at the studio, she all be leapt at the opportunity. Would it look desperate? She wasn’t sure she cared, as long as she got a glimpse of him from a distance, a sidelong glance where she could appreciate his tall form and the contours of his face.  

Everyone seemed too invested in her whereabouts and activities, and she all but pried herself away from Vassa, who asked her too many leading questions. Lucien must have let something slip, she supposed. Good friend though she might be, Vassa generally much preferred to talk about herself rather than hold an interrogation over Elain’s upcoming schedule.  

Feyre, too, seemed unnaturally happy to see her. She’d hardly heard from her at all in their group chat with Nesta the past few days. Feyre was busy with Rhys, swept up in her new relationship and ignoring the outside world entirely. Nesta never liked Feyre’s boyfriends and was already suspicious of Rhys, especially after she met his, apparently very annoying, friends.  

She brought the coffee to Feyre in her office, chatting with her about some black-tie event that Rhys planned to take her to, when she felt the recognizably warm presence of Lucien behind her.  

“None for me, hmm?” He said jokingly as she turned around.  

“You don’t drink coffee. You drink tea.” She said the last part with the appropriate emphasis of her disturbance at the idea. Who didn’t love coffee?  

“Don’t you have to finish your recording?” Feyre sniped at him from her place at her desk.  

Lucien smiled good naturedly, not taking his eyes off Elain. “Join me?”  

Elain didn’t know what she was agreeing to, would have said yes to anything, as she followed him through those gray carpeted hallways. They entered a small room with fabric paneled walls, with sound equipment set up along the sides as well as placed on a desk in the center of the room with two microphones.  

“Wow, this is neat. Is this where you usually record?”  

“For prerecorded stuff. There’s a bigger room for the morning when I have someone with me.” He grabbed her waist, pulling her gently towards him. “Now, I have a guest.”  

She craned her neck up to look at him as she stood closer. Lucien cupped her cheek, leaning in to kiss her, nibbling at her lip. Elain had all but forgotten where they were or what they were doing by the time he released her.  

Lucien turned, fiddling with the equipment and plugging things in as she watched in fascination. His face was casual, confident as he adjusted dials and made some kind of calculations she didn’t understand. He stepped back towards her and she watched as flipped on a switch on the wall labelled “recording”.  

“So no one bothers us. It turns on a light outside.” Elain nodded wordlessly as Lucien sat the chair in front of the microphone, taking a dramatic and pointed sip of his steaming cup of tea before flipping on the switch. Elain couldn’t help but smile and roll her eyes.   

Elain had heard Lucien’s voice many times by now, joking with his friends or the filthy words he murmured in her ear. This was different. Lucien’s voice was deep, smooth and authoritative as he recorded a segment on something she didn’t even bother to pay attention to.  

If he’d asked her for her opinion afterwards, she would have to admit her only opinion was on the way his mouth moved when he annunciated or the way his hands rested on his muscular thighs. What did a man on the radio need with muscles like those or a face like that? Whatever the reason, she was grateful that it benefited her, that she might get to experience if again if she played carefully. He’d said he wanted to see her again, hadn’t he? Hopefully he wouldn’t be too put off by her all but stalking him at work.  

By the time he was signing off, Elain’s thighs had grown slippery, her excitement palpable just at the sound of his voice. The whirring movements of the recording equipment could have just as easily been her, for how tightly wound she felt. When he leaned back in his chair to look towards her, Elain pounced. She strode over to him, standing between his spread legs to lick at his neck and wind her fingers through his long hair. Lucien didn’t miss a beat, his hands grasping at her ass as she nipped and licked at him, nothing but a smooth liquid glide against the satin material of her skirt.  

Lucien grasped at her chin, locking her eyes with his and taking control of her frantic exploration with her mouth. “Did you miss me, baby?”  

Elain nodded as he lifted up her skirt, trailing his fingers up and down her legs. Surely, he wouldn’t tease her again, here. They hardly had the time for it. It was the middle of the day and in other parts of the office people were filing paperwork and editing sound while Lucien dragged his hands up and down over her. When he arrived at the wetness gathering on her thighs, he hissed.  

“What's all this for? Did you like watching me?” Just like the night before, he gave her cunt a soft slap, the sound clear and crisp in the perfectly insulated room.  

Elain let out a sharp groan, arching up into his hand. He squeezed her waist before he turned her, tugging gently with her hair as be balled it into a fist. Every huff of his breath or the sound of her rubbing against him only drove her closer to losing her mind completely. She had no words for what she was feeling. She arched her back, letting her backside press up against the hardness she could feel. 

 She still hadn’t seen him or had the chance to touch him beyond the dry humping she’d engaged in on her couch. Holding her by her hair, Lucien pressed her forward, so that her chest was pushed against the desk. The knob of some piece of equipment or other pressed uncomfortably against her ribs, but she didn’t care. The pressure of the cold table against her sensitive nipples caused her to groan again, and she pinched at one absently through her clothes.  

Lucien lifted her skirt up over her hips, palming at the globes of her ass as he all but purred in appreciation. “Well?”  

He was asking her something, and Elain knew she would agree to anything he said right now. If he asked to fuck her live on air, she would have nodded her head just the same.  

The sound of a slap cut through the room as Lucien’s hand landed on her ass. Elain gasped her mouth open and drool dripping on to the table as he slapped again on the other cheek. She wasn’t sure she wanted to answer his question, wanted to see how long he would keep going like this. The pain was just enough to truly sting, though she knew if he kept going she would start to feel sore.  

One more hard slap left her rethinking her decisions and Elain craned her neck to look at him as she answered a simple “Yes.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” He demanded as he offered her another sharp slap to the other cheek. The recording light was still on, would warn anyone in the hall not to disturb them, and yet Elain’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment.  

He rubbed at her inflamed cheeks, which she could now see bore bright red handprints. “Yes, Daddy” 

“Good girl.” He leaned forward, his body over her as he kissed her deeply, his tongue moving languidly in her mouth. Elain whimpered as his mouth covered hers and she could hear the jingling sound of him unbuckling his belt. He pulled back to standing as she listened for the distinct sound of the ripping open of a foil package.  

Elain craned her neck to watch, taking in a full view of him naked in front of her for the first time. His cock bobbed in front of him, flushed a deep reddish purple from his arousal with swollen veins running up and down the length. It was long, the head of him reaching up to his navel, already wet and dripping down towards the thick base of him. Elain bit her lip, her mouth watering as she fought the urge to taste him.     

“Are you going to watch me fuck you?” Lucien asked as he lined himself up between her legs. Elain spread them wider, lifting her ass into the air in invitation.  

“Yes, Daddy.” Though she still felt a bit embarrassed, she spoke more confidently this time.  

Despite his tone, Lucien took his time pushing into her, allowing her to adjust to the stretch of him. He watched with open mouthed fascination, though he lifted his eyes to look at her and make sure she was comfortable. Elain couldn’t look away either, staring at the way the muscles in his abdomen tensed as he held control, moving slowly. At last, when he was pressed fully against her, he leaned forward, pressing his body on top of her own, avoiding the tangle of cords on the table as he paced his hands on either side of her. 

“Fuck, you feel so good Elain. You’re so tight on my cock.” He began to move in and out, the wet sounds of it the only thing she could hear.  

“Is that why you’re here, pretty girl? So, Daddy can fuck you?” Elain gulped down a yes as she panted out a rasping breath.  

“Next time, I need you to come on my face, too.” He began to pick up his pace hitting against her so sharply it almost hurt as his other hand pressed against her clit. She craved it, the sharp bite of each slap of his cock against her just enough to bring her close to the edge.  

“Be a good girl and come for me, Elain.”  

She did, her pleasure pounding and reverberating through her body as she shook. Lucien cursed and repeated incoherent praises in her ear about how wet and tight she was, what a good girl for coming when he told her to, as he lost his rhythm, his hips moving frantically as he came. Elain watched his face eagerly, pleased to see the feral snarl in his expression and the whimpering groan he made when he finished.  

He didn’t move as he kissed her softly, brushing his fingers through her hair before reluctantly withdrawing from her body. It felt wrong to suddenly be so empty, she found herself craving him again already. Lucien discreetly disposed of the condom before rushing back over to her, placing soft kisses along her cheek.  

“You’re beautiful.” Elain and answered with an affectionate touch of her own along his jaw. Gone was the feral man of a moment before, replaced by a softer Lucien, who drove a prius and left early in the morning to walk his dog. She rather liked both, she decided.  

Lucien let it a sudden sharp intake of breath, and Elain’s blood ran cold. If they’d been discovered, if someone walked in on her clearly fucking a man she just met in the middle of an office building, she’d never recover. She’d ask Nesta to take her out, a mercy killing. Instead, Lucien switched off the microphone in front of them.  

Elain gulped. “That’s not...” 

“Recording? Yes. I didn’t shut off the mic before we” he indicated to the space between them. Elain’s pussy clenched with arousal even as she stood, straightening out her dress and combing through her hair as if making herself presentable would make any difference. It’s radio for god’s sake.  

He must have seen her wide-eyed panic, because he squeezed her hand. “It’s not live. Thank god! Just recorded. I’ll take care of it, delete the recording and re-record my spot in a bit.”  

“Oh, okay.” It all happened too quickly. She wanted to go back to the way he’d been holding her tenderly, to the honeyed words dripping from his lips in the wake of his orgasm. Instead, he explained the logistics of how the audio was recorded, how he would most assuredly remove of all evidence.  

She trusted him, it was his job after all. It was one that would not be easily replaced, the city only had one public radio station. He looked a bit frantic, and Elain took that as her sign to leave, feeling suddenly awkward and a bit out of place.  

She reached up on the tips of her feet to place a kiss along his jaw, offering him a reassuring smile. “I’ll walk myself out.”  

Lucien pulled her in for a hug, his arms wrapping around her body. “I’m sorry about this. I’ll call you later, okay?”  

***** 

Elain calmed herself down with a trip to the garden center, wandering the aisles of newly sprouting plants and running her fingers through the damp top soil as she listened to Nesta on the phone, complaining about a coworker named Eris who apparently stole her reserved parking space. She didn’t need to say anything, just listen as she touched the leaves and breathed in the fresh air.  

She wandered home with a new plant for her windowsill, still feeling a bit out of her sorts. When she arrived at her apartment door, she found a bouquet of flowers sitting on her doormat, along with a simple brown paper bag. Elain took a moment, unlocking her door as she wandered inside to the chirping sounds of her cat.  

She leaned against her counter, flicking on the radio as she set down the flowers, her plant, and the mysterious bag with her name scrawled across it.  

She opened it to find a note from Lucien and a blank CD. Her face flushed immediately, understanding what it must be.  

Elain,  I’m sorry again for earlier. I’ve taken care of it, yours is the only evidence. You sound beautiful, by the way. You have a voice for radio.  Yours,   Lucien  

[turtlecleric]

Bay!Mikey x reader, soulmate au - ink on your skin is mirrored on theirs until it’s wiped off

Cws: implied/referenced self-harm

-

You’d heard about the butterfly project online somewhere. It had felt silly, at first, to think they might actually help, but… you were getting a little bit desperate. So you’d bought some markers. Locked your door. Pulled the fabric of your shorts down so they’d bunch up close to your hips. And started drawing.

Now that you’re done, you’re surprised to find that you really, really like them. You’ve drawn them tiny, with little rounded wings and splashes of your favorite colors. They actually make you smile, and it’s been a long time since you’ve been able to do that while looking at your legs. 

You wonder if he’ll ask you about them. He often sends little messages your way, written on your forearm. Maybe if you stare at your arm long enough, you’ll see his messy scrawl appear. Something like, “Oh, so you like butterflies? My favorite kind are the ones you give me!”

God. You can’t believe you miss a person you haven’t even met yet. 

For the millionth time, you wonder what he looks like. What he sounds like. It doesn’t really matter, since you already know the things that do matter. You know that he’s kind. And funny. And excited to meet you one day.

…So why hasn’t he? You’re not sure what he’s waiting for. You’ve asked him multiple times to meet up, but there’s always something that comes up. 

Maybe… maybe it’s you. Maybe he can tell that you’re… but no, that doesn't make sense. He really does seem like he likes talking to you. Like he wants to meet you one day. It’s only been a few months since your soul ink started to appear, and some soulmates go years before they meet up for the first time.

You hope you don’t have to wait that long. 

Sighing, you brush a thumb along the wings of one of the butterflies. It had seemed so pretty at first, but now… you can’t help but stare at the lines visible beneath the ink.

You try to focus back on the butterflies.

You’d been proud of them. Thought they were cute. Thought that maybe he might find them cute, too. But the longer you stare, the more you wonder if he might not find them cute. What if he’s… annoyed. That you drew all over yourself without consulting him first. He has to deal with this, too, after all. They’re in an easy to hide place, but still. Maybe you should have asked his permission. Maybe you should have been more considerate of the possibility that he might not want to have his thighs covered in little butterflies. The project isn’t a one night deal, either. You have to keep drawing them back on, you can’t let the butterflies fade until the urges fade. It’s been years at this point - did you really think this was a good idea? Trying this method when you have your soulmate to think about? What if he hates them? What if he hates people who might need something like this? What if he knows about the butterfly project, and seeing this is the last straw, and he never speaks to you ag-

You inhale sharply at the sight of blank ink blooming in one of the empty spaces on your thigh. Mesmerized, you watch as the ink curls and glides, slowly but surely, into a picture.

A flower. 

Another one appears in the empty space between two other butterflies. Your hand raises to cover your mouth as you watch more and more appear. It’s calming, watching them swirl into existence. Some are tiny, delicate things. Others are large enough for little details. Shadows and textures, leaves and stems and… wow. 

You hadn’t realized he was an artist. There’s no way he isn’t, with how breathtaking these flowers are. And he’d just… he’d just done it, like it was nothing. Turned your skin into a work of art in less than 15 minutes. Somehow taken your pathetic little butterflies and woven them into a complete piece that you could stare at for hours and not get bored. 

It’s incredible.

You feel like you should… say something. You grab a marker and hesitate, unsure, before deciding on just being honest with him.

They’re beautiful!

It takes only a moment before you see him start to write back. It’s a little funny, seeing his chicken scratch and then glancing over to the beautiful pieces of art that he’s turned your legs into. Just another thing about him that makes you smile. But when you see his response, your smile drops.

Beautiful flowers for my beautiful girl

You’re not sure why that makes you start to cry. He’s called you beautiful before. Not that he could possibly mean it - you haven’t met yet, you haven’t even exchanged last names or numbers or anything, but… something about it feels… genuine. Genuine in a way that it really shouldn’t be. How could he mean that when he has no clue what you look like? Surely he wouldn’t say that if he did know, I mean, look at you.

But. Somehow. Somehow. You know he means it. 

You grab a wipe from your bedside table, clearing your first message from your arm. His words disappear, as well, and part of you mourns the physical proof of those words, but then he starts to- oh my god. He’s writing down a phone number. It’s- it’s got to be his phone number, right? What else could it be? You don’t have long to wonder, because then you see another message appear. 

If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. Don’t kill the butterflies, okay?

Don’t kill the butterflies. He knows. He knows. And he still- he still wants to talk to you. 

You shouldn’t call him right now. You’re an emotional mess. It’s late, too, and you have no idea if he has to be up early tomorrow. But. But you- he finally gave you- and you just- you just-

Your hands shake as you dial the number. How could you not call him now? How could you possibly wait another second to finally hear his voice? How could you-

“Hey sunshine,” he says - and, oh. His voice. His voice makes you smile so hard your cheeks start to hurt. Sunshine, he’d called you. Fitting, you think, since it suddenly feels like you’ve swallowed the sun and rays are surely shining through the spaces between your ribs. “I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, sniffling and tracing one of the bigger flowers with a finger. “Me too.”

-

tag list: @luckycharms1701 @yorshie @thejudiciousneurotic @khayalli @justalotoffanfiction @thelaundrybitch @mxalmighty @shakeyourtrees

[3v3ry0n3z-fav3-al13n-x3]

Hey y'all. This post is a (not so) short life update of mine.

I haven't been posting much both on my main and oc ask blog, the reason being I'm now attending art school!! Plus I moved into a youth dormitory (tho I'm currently at home for the weekends)

I'm now living with a roommate of mine, who's really nice :33 we already became friends before I moved in, we actually went to the cosplay convention I posted about a while ago. We have lots of the same interests (THEY EVEN KNOW ABOUT FTUT WOOOO-) and I think it's safe to say that I got pretty lucky with my current roommate ^_^

Anyway, about art school - I was pretty excited about it before I went there, but ngl I was also really nervous and at times even panicking because I was scared it'd turn out just as bad as my previous schools and that I'd get bullied again-- but luckily, so far it actually went really well :DDD I already found a couple of friends, there's a goth girl as one of my classmates who complimented my fit on the first day >_< my classmates seem to be actually friendly, a girl came up to me in the halls today telling she loves my outfit and wants to draw me, and I didn't even get any weird looks!!!!! (trust me I was looking around like crazy lol)

Yesterday I accidentally got deadnamed by a classmate and another guy from class immediately corrected them, and they apologized!! Ik this might not seem like much, but as someone who got bullied in school for YEARS because of both my gender identity and clothing style, this is a pretty big deal for me (in a good way)

In short, art school is going really well for me so far, and I hope it'll stay that way while I'm still attending it. Everyone is just so nice and they treat me like an actual human being, unlike some other people from my prev schools......

Anyway, I think it's pretty safe to say that my life's actually getting better now! Which i honestly didn't believe would ever happen in the past. I'm so grateful and thankful to everyone who helped me get through all of my troubles, who helped me stay alive and who have stuck with me even through my not-the-best moments, that includes: my parents, my online friends, my (not fake) irl friends, my followers / mutuals and even just online strangers who decided to check up on me after seeing my vent posts. I just want to say...

Thank you all <333333

[youcouldmakealife]

David, Kiro; ready for your close up, Mr. Ambassador?

For this year's bracket challenge winner, who requested something like Crosby and Mackinnon's Tim Hortons commercials, but with David and Kiro instead.

But of course, because this is David, instead you get a lot of setup as to how exactly we got into this particular scenario. (Kiro to meddle later)

David has never done many endorsement deals. It isn’t that they weren’t offered to him, especially at the beginning of his career — the Islanders may not be the most popular team in New York, but they were still, in Dave’s words, ‘in New fucking York. Yeah, okay, they’re on Long Island. Semantics, David, the market’s the market.’

It wasn’t semantics, not really — the Rangers were New York’s team, then and now, the Islanders relegated to some distant second, New York’s team the way that the Ottawa Senators were Ontario’s, that San Jose was California's.

Still, he had offers. A lot of them. But when he was younger David wanted to focus on hockey and only hockey, worried any distractions would halt his development. His job was to play hockey, not to pretend to be excited about some product he’d never heard of before they called him.

And, frankly, the media David deals with, and the filming he already has to endure for contractual reasons — YouTube videos for his team, soundbites for the TV networks, media day for the league — means that David has no illusions about his acting ability.

So, for the most part, David’s ignored the offers. The money offered is sometimes good, occasionally very good, but he already makes more money than he can spend.

Well, he could easily spend it, but it’s certainly more money than he could responsibly spend, particularly knowing that, sooner rather than later, his career will have to end.

It’s that particular thought, and the accompanying awareness that his endorsement value is only going to decline from this point forward, that has David playing closer attention than usual when Dave mentions that one of the team’s sponsors is interested in filming a TV spot with him.

That isn’t unusual — Dave mentions them often, but they’re more an aside that David’s welcome to ignore. Dave is well aware that David has little interest, but he still conveys the message, mostly, he says, because he gets paid for them too — not as much, obviously, but he does receive a portion of David’s earnings.

To date, David’s only taken him up on one offer. Leapt on it, even though the compensation was negligible compared to other offers, let alone compared to what he made on the ice, but that was because it was Bauer, offering him the chance to, in effect, advertise a stick designed to his specifications. The filming wasn’t too bad either, since it mostly involved him stickhandling for take after take, which wasn’t all that different from practice. Even those have cameras sometimes.

He still uses the stick to this day. It isn’t the only one uses, or even the one he uses most often — it’s a little too fragile, and David grew tired of having to race back to the bench when it snapped yet again, though he did draw more penalties with it — but it’s excellent for the power play.

“It’s a very generous offer,” Dave says. “They have a ‘vision’, they said, and they’re willing to pay a little more to get you specifically.”

“What do you mean?” David asks.

“Let them tell you,” Dave says. “It’s actually a pretty decent idea.”

Dave wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it, and between the money, and David’s curiosity, it’s enough reason to agree to meet with someone from the sponsor. ‘Just a coffee’, they said, but David prepares for — and receives — a pitch instead.

Apparently it’s all Kiro’s fault. The representative doesn’t put it like that, of course, but he does mention that the idea came after someone on their marketing team watched the red carpet interview from the Awards the year David won the Art Ross.

David isn’t sure why that interview’s still online, let alone why anyone would watch it, but it is, and they have, and their marketing team thinks, being that David is from the Canadian capital, plays in Washington, and Kiro joked about him being the Canadian Ambassador to Russia, it would be funny for David to play an ambassador.

“A hockey ambassador,” he says. “You know?”

“I have no experience with diplomacy,” David says. “Or acting, really.”

He’s sure he’d be terrible at it. He’s terrible even at playing himself, according almost every bit of feedback he’s received on NHL media day, and he can't see playing a role going any better.

“You don’t even really need to act,” the sponsor says. “We’re going for diplomatic, you know? Stern but polite. That’s kind of your vibe anyway, isn’t it? We figured that was why Volkov said it.”

“Is that why?” David asks. He genuinely thought Kiro had been joking that David earned honourary Russian status after spending the entire summer with him, Oleg, and Slava, but sometimes Kiro’s jokes can go over his head.

That gets a laugh, and he’s not sure why, but he’s stopped trying to understand at this point, unless it’s someone whose opinion that matters to him, someone he cares about.

“Well,” David says, when time’s up. He still has half his tea, but it’s in a to-go cup, and he thinks he’s heard enough. “I’ll think about it.”

He doesn’t anticipate needing to spend a lot of time on that. The money really is good, but he really does have no shortage of it, and he doesn’t think he’d like to earn money by humiliating himself.

His mistake was mentioning it to Kiro. He should have known Kiro would never let him turn it down.

[jesncin]

Boundaries!!

Okay since I've been messaged across my soc med accounts at this point, I think I should make this boundary clear. Remember that even though you're getting to know me through my interests and art, that I'm still a stranger on the internet! I'm especially aware as a 30 yr old author that I'm in a space (fandom) with mostly people younger than me, so I have to be responsible with how I interact with people.

Please don't overshare personal information with strangers online unprompted. That's really dangerous! This isn't the same as people opening up to me because they connected with my stories or art, I'm extremely humbled to be trusted with those experiences. It's when people get overly familiar with me and are having an idealized excitement talking to me as a creator. I like being friendly and I cherish the friends I've made in fandom, but I still keep boundaries in the sense that I don't know any of you personally. I'm extremely private too. I know when something parasocial is going on.

This has been happening a bit (in the DMs) and I would hate to end up blocking people who enjoy my art just because they got overly excited interacting with me. I am not equipped to deal with the personal life of strangers. Please be careful out there.

[nonbinarykai]

You know what fuck you *headcanons your ninja finances*

Kai

- usually deal with all the finances because he’s the most knowledgeable (and willing) to do it.

- he usually calculates how much the ninjas allowance is every two weeks and checks it off with wu to make sure everything looks good

- he also deals with money used for things like grocery’s, new supplies, etc in what they call the team fund

- typically if the ninja need something that benefits everyone (or don’t want to pay with their own money) they ask Kai and wu if they can use the team fund money instead.

- the ninja mostly get their finances through donations, merchandising, and awards from the city. Although it’s not much most shops in ninjago also give them custom discounts in order to thank them for protecting the city.

- Kai himself just usually saves up his allowance money. He never really developed out of his habit for saving.

- occasionally he would use his money to get the other gifts or to buy something he’s particularly interested. Like books or swords

Jay

- either always gambles away his money or spends it all right away getting new games, comics, or snacks.

- will pay ridiculous amount of money for merchandise if his current favorite show or media

- always begs Kai for more money or try to convince him to use the team fund to buy stupid shit

- never works lol

Nya

- uses most of her money to get supplies for her own side projects

- on the rare occasion jay will convince her to buy a new shirt

- frequent customer of Home Depot and Micheal’s

- she hates shopping in large mall complexes or stores because they would kick up her perfume allergies

Zane

- typically spends his money going to museums or zoos so he can look at birds

- he also donates most of his money to these places

- he also buys a lot of supplies and books about birds

- if you can’t tell he likes birds

- he doesn’t need to spend his own money on food or cooking supplies because the team fund usually covers that for him

- but he still likes to go to fancy restaurants in order to judge the food there lol

Cole

- one of the few ninja that has his own money stream because he does art commissions online

- Kai doesn’t question it as long as it means cole has his own money he doesn’t need to worry about

- spends his money on art supplies

- firm believer he’s a furry you cannot take this from me

- as a result also spends his money on fur suits, commissions, and going to cons

- also spends money trying to tend to his own plants he has

Lloyd

- lots, and lots of candy

- mostly spends his money on fast/junk food

- will occasionally buy himself a toy he wanted as a kid and now that he’s an adult with his own money he can get it himself

- likes to go to target a lot but not to buy anything just walk around and look at stuff before leaving

- if you tried to explain the concept of a credit card to him he would look at you like a kicked puppy

- also buys comics, although he’s not that interested in merch

- will sometimes buy plushies of himself

- anything else he has he usually donates

Wu

- if you took him to a grocery store I firmly believe he would take one look of those giant statues made by soda boxes and leave

- usually donates to museums

- very grateful that Kai is helping him with everything

- wu usually took care of the finances for a bit but after his tea shop and seeing how excited Kai was to run a shop with him (and recognizing Kai probably knows more then him) he let Kai take control

- of course everything still has to be approved by him so Kai isn’t abusing his power

[kfedup]

Regretsy no more

Hey, y'all. It's the lurker here.

I've been in the funkiest of funkless funks for the past few months and over the past few weeks, I've been unpacking why. Seeing how much I'm isolating because of a constellation of health-related issues and generalized depression. Have been considering trying meds. But one thing keeps coming to the surface and I finally decided it's time to deal with it.

The one thing is the only thing in my life that I regret. That thing is never having finished my bachelor's degree.

I'm twice divorced, have lost several important friendships, and moved more times than I can count to places I didn't really want to live to maintain relationships I should have never entered in the first place, but I wouldn't trade any of those things. I don't feel regret about them. Why would I? I discovered who I am and who I am not because I experienced those things. Each of them allowed me to learn how to repair what's possible and how to let go of that which is complete.

I'm very good at this marketing copywriting work but I'm bored senseless. I want to challenge myself and taking online workshops is fine but it's just more interacting through a screen and lord love a duck, my spirit needs more. Plus, I am not using my gifts of communication, empathy, mirroring, and holding space for others in the way I know I am meant to use them. For two years I've felt like I'm wasting what's left of my life.

I am so afraid I will die full of this regret.

The cost has kept me from pulling the trigger on this dream for several years. I wish I started sooner, but clearly, I wasn't miserable enough yet. I'm well and truly stuck in the muck at the bottom of the lake about it now. There's nothing left to do but swim to the surface, so here I go.

Today I applied as a transfer student to the Psychology program at Kent State University to start classes this summer. It will probably take me 3 years to finish the 2 years I have left because I'm a single-income household and will have to work. I'm terrified I won't be able to manage both, but I hope I can rally.

I'm not sure if I'll continue on to get the Psych MA at KSU or go elsewhere to get an MA in Art Therapy after I finish the BA. I also want to get certified in Internal Family Systems therapy, so I'll be 63ish or older starting a new career as a therapist and I feel excited about my future for the first time in... well... I don't even know. A very long time.

I want a career that feels meaningful to me, helps people instead of businesses, and lets me use my gifts. One I can do until I'm dead because I'mma need to work until they're spreading my ashes.

I plan to take a class this summer to dip my toes in.

Holy shit, y'all. Lila will be a senior and I will be a junior on the same campus. She's so supportive and I've been crying happy-scared-overwhelmed-curious-excited tears all day.

Kelly's going back to college. Holy shit.

[jmdbjk]

Episode 2: Adolescence 

Beyond the Star, produced by HYBE Media Studio

They begin by conveying how important concerts are for them. Concerts. Not performances. Concerts.

They thought they “made it” in 2016 when they booked the Olympic Gymnastics Arena for a concert. It was the dream venue for idols at the time and are amazed they are performing there and never imagined they’d have a concert that big.

During the interviews where they are expressing their thoughts about what performing during concerts means to them, we see footage of different concerts illustrating what they are trying to explain. 

Hobi harkens back to their first concert in October 2014 for The Red Bullet tour, at Seoul’s AX Korea with 6,000 in attendance. He says they didn’t care about how many hundreds or thousands were there, they were just so thankful for the fans who came to see them.

Attendance rose at each progressive concert. Their fourth concert in 2015 had 13,500 in attendance at the Seoul Olympic Handball Gymnasium, and their fifth concert in May 2016 at the Olympic Gymnastics Arena, mentioned at the beginning of this episode, had 25,000 in the audience. They were in awe at how huge it was when they first arrive at that venue, looking out at the empty seats before they began rehearsing.

They were always so emotional during their ending ments, so thankful for what they were experiencing after knowing how hard they’d worked from debut up until the end of each one of those concerts.

In the early years, the hearts of those young men were bursting with passion and to see so many fans supporting them had to be an overwhelming relief, its no surprise their emotions overflowed.

Though they finally saw their hard work being appreciated, the joy was tempered with having to deal with pushback.

One of the things I noticed that was not mentioned yet in Episode 1 was how much pushback, bullying, negativity and hate they received from their peers and other fans outside their team and company from the very first day.

Working their asses off to fulfill their dreams while being faced with all that makes it even more amazing that they stuck with it. 

It was them against the entire kpop industry. We all know how much BTS is hated by other kpop fandoms. We see it daily on the X timeline. The jealousy is real, it's destructive and it's dangerous.

BTS is untouchable now but in 2013, Jungkook was 15 years old. A CHILD! Jin was 20! BigHit had no money. There was a point after debut when they were asked to move out of the dorm because the company couldn't afford it anymore. Underdogs is an understatement, truly what the hell did they think they were doing up against all these established kpop groups, their fandoms and the big 3 companies?

Now, in Episode 2, we start to hear how the guys handled all this. For some of them, they did not handle it very well. Namjoon talks about his panic attacks and how he avoids the internet and going online during a song/album release. 

In Episode 1 we saw Hobi and Jin so thrilled and excited, anxiously waiting and monitoring online their very first album release at midnight on June 13, 2013 and for Namjoon to tell us now he can’t enjoy the thrill of that is so devastating to me. 

When an artist sends their art out into the world, it is like a living part of themselves, an extension of themselves that they lay bare to the world. The visceral reaction of panic when seeing people hate you for it…and the amount of courage it takes to ignore that and keep going and make more art to release into the world…I challenge anyone to show me they have THAT amount of courage.

And I implore you to understand the depths these guys LOVE their fans ESPECIALLY BEFORE THEY WERE BIG to keep doing it in spite of the hate.

Yoongi was incredibly diplomatic when he says “we had a lot of unreasonable controversies.” I would have said "we had a lot of total fucking bullshit that meant nothing thrown at us by a bunch of stupid butt hurt people." There, I fixed it for you, Yoongi.

They had a ludicrous amount of people gunning for them, hating them for being successful, hating them for being different. Jealousy drives people to do the most hateful things.

Jimin says, “having to deny the bad rumors was always so upsetting.”

Namjoon recieved death threats during the Red Bullet Tour. Early on they were accused of chart manipulation because they sold so many albums. This is the company had no money, there was no money to spend on chart manipulation!

They were accused of plagiarism and brought to court and were exonerated because it wasn't true.

Jimin received death threats at the end of the Wings Tour.

Being the humans that they are, with feelings and emotions, Yoongi says they and the fans were getting desperate and spiteful in the face of all this backlash and hate. 

The fan song “2! 3!” was an anomaly. It is somewhat somber for a song dedicated to fans. Most fan songs are light and cheery. But this song fit the emotions BTS was experiencing and bonded them closer with their fans and was again, another instance of the members being sincere and genuine in their expressions. 

The emotional scenes of BTS standing on stage, Army singing the lyrics back at them, waving their purple plastic bagged Army bombs, has to be one of the best memories for them. A truly bonding moment between artist and fan.

December 2016, Mnet Asian Music Awards, they win Artist of the Year. It is their first major award. Yoongi says “in a movie, the ending credits are supposed to roll at this point.”

They’ve reached the top… as they knew it. End of story... 2016? Nope.

Early the next year while they were on the Wings Tour, they were told they were going to the United States for the Billboard Music Awards. No other Korean act had ever done that before. They had no expectations for that trip. They had no idea what they were supposed to do when they got there.

It’s kinda cute seeing them prepare and wondering what to expect. They are so young and you can tell they are trying to figure out if they’re supposed to try to emulate the image of a western pop star.

When they get out of the van at the red carpet event, they all look around the back of the van to the other side of the street and see the fans screaming at them. They knew who the real fans were and they wondered what everyone else thought: perhaps people were just curious about who they were. 

Namjoon wonders how different it may have been had they, the members, been a little more culturally proficient, meaning at that time, they were inexperienced, naive and ignorant about the impact they were making. It was all a big wonder to them at that point. They were thinking “do they even know who we are?” 

Then they win Billboard’s Social Artist award, not a major award but still, it had been won by Justin Bieber for many years prior and now it was BTS’ opportunity to kick in the door. And they did. With all seven pairs of feet. Western artists began to take note and wanted to collaborate with them. The thorn in the western music industry's side had arrived in the form of this team of 7 and their fans.

Yoongi thought it was a one-off token award, but then they were invited to perform at the AMA’s. They can’t believe they’ve made it that far. 

They are soaring and going places they never imagined they’d go. Everything seemed like a fairytale, the success, the adulation, the global attention…

But it was happening too fast, their young minds, their emotional development and sense of self never had a chance to mature and catch up to their work load and the pressures and expectations their image and success placed on them. They never had a chance to stop and assess themselves personally and consider if this level of fame was something they even wanted.

Literally, they never. stopped. working. When they say "we just kept running forward" that is not a euphemism, it is literal.

As soon as one event, concert, appearance, fan meet, photo shoot, shooting Run BTS, music shows, whatever was over, it was on to the next one...from plane to hotel to venue back to hotel back to plane, to be repeated over and over.

In mid-2017, by the time they talked about resting for a while, it was perilously close to being too late. They still had the rest of the Wings Tour to complete through December. Some of them had already considered quitting. Some did not possess the confidence to endure the burden. Some of them wondered if pausing was the right thing since they were doing so well. 

They were confused by how they could be feeling like this after they’d worked so hard to get to this point.

The title of this episode is "Adolescence" and it pertained not only to the members who were just emerging from it and their careers that had gotten past the starting line and now riding an almost out of control rocket to stardom. It also was a point in time for the company trying to get its feet under it, for its leader Bang PD trying to steer this team, to figure out how to manage this worldwide sensation they'd created.

Bang PD had to learn how to deal with his team's enormous success as he watched them begin to burn out. He embraced a philosophy of focusing on the importance for an artist to have autonomy and be happy as a person which was not a thing in the kpop industry at that time. He was worried about their mental well being and their happiness. He suggested a break.

They knew there was an "end" coming eventually. End of contract, military... et al. They pondered the inability to enjoy the fruits of their hard work and that it couldn't "end" with them being unhappy.

We know in 2018 they renegotiated their contracts. 

For a group as close as they were, as committed as they were to their careers and to each other, they had to come together and discuss how they were feeling while being burned out, they had to admit to each other they wanted to quit. We don’t know the nitty-gritty details of how it went down but they worked through it and re-committed to each other and their team.

They didn’t give up and that tells me not a single one of them are quitters.

My own personal thoughts are that they recognized they needed to stop at that specific point in time and regroup. They knew enlistment was coming eventually and the typical life-cycle of a kpop group had been about 7 years when idols aged and younger ones took their place. But they'd reached places in the stratosphere that none other had before. I think they paused, recalibrated and actually let themselves seriously think of a future after enlistment that would allow them to keep up this level of success, to keep pushing boundaries...and therefore they re-evaluated what was in that contract to include things that ensured their well-being so they could grow. That new contract was set to expire this year, well after Jin was supposed to be back from the military and most likely all of them. I am curious to know what that original 2018 contract planning included...

Anyway, I accidentally rambled a lot adding extra context and my own thoughts while watching this episode.

Review of Episode 3 next…