#I cannot express to you how excited I am to be done with ____ of ____ titles

[banannabethchase]

We Could Be a Sweet Team - also on AO3

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Ayda has never had ice cream before, and Fig simply must fix that fact.

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Fluff to combat the angst that is real life! I hope you enjoy :) Title from Ice Cream by New Young Pony Club

~

Fig yawns and rests her head on Ayda’s shoulder, doing her best to stay awake on the final stretch of the drive home. Today’s was a short drive, all things considered, but she’s still tired.

“Fig, if you continue to sleep on my shoulder, it will be difficult for me to drive.”

“I’m comfortable,” Fig mumbles. “You’re like a warm blanket or something.”

“One traditionally sleeps under blankets instead of on them, but the sentiment is charming.” She nods her head down to tap it against Fig’s head then lifts up.

“Fine,” Fig groans. “Are we there yet?”

“Momentarily, I would predict,” Ayda says. “I am excited to stop by Basrar’s for the first time.”

“You’ve had ice cream,” Fig says, snorting. “The magic doesn’t, like, make it special. It’s still just ice cream.”

Ayda is quiet for a moment, then more than a moment. It’s long enough that Fig feels…itchy.

“Ayda,” she says, as gently as she can get it, “you have had ice cream before, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t,” she says quietly.

“How have you never had ice cream before?!” Fig flails up and stares at her. “How are you an actual human – part human, at least, whatever – without ever having ice cream?!”

Ayda slows at the stop sign right before Basrar’s parking lot. “Fig, I grew up on a pirate island, raised by an aasimar. I incinerated almost anything I touched when I got too excited for the first four years of my life. Forgive me for being blunt, but I am a very intelligent person and I cannot find a path for success in that pattern for an ice cream trip.”

Fig settles into the passenger seat as Ayda parks. “Oh. Right.” She fights the urge to confirm once again. It seems impossible. “Are you okay?”

“Always, with you,” and Ayda is so sincere and so real it makes Fig’s heart hurt a little. She smiles to Fig, with something a little aching behind it. “Now, let’s go inside. I miss our friends.”

Fig smiles. “Me, too.”

Ayda, in her way, takes Fig’s hand and they walk in. Kristen is in the middle of a very emphatic sentence, arms thrown in the air, while Mary Ann looks on with blank half interest.

“Are you done?” Mary Ann asks.

Fig snickers as Kristen’s face burns almost as red as Ayda’s plumage. “Done?!” Kristen yells. “You think I’ll ever be done?”

“What’d we miss?” Fig asks, shoving at Fabian’s shoulder to scoot in.

“Kristen and Mary Ann are in an argument about the best sign a person is fit,” Mazey says, patting the space next to her for Fabian to scoot in more.

“I suggested a perfectly thrown aerial, but I was immediately yelled at,” Fabian says. He leans in and sips his milkshake. “Kristen said it has to be the amount you can lift, Mary Ann said weights are for bitches, and they’ve been yelling ever since.”

“It’s a bit disturbing,” Gorgug, with a truly haunted expression, says.

“You sure you don’t mean hot?” Fig asks. “Because I remember the last time she annoyed you.”

Gorgug flings ice cream at Fig, and Ayda reaches out to catch it in midair, turning it into milk and whipping it back around to hit Gorgug in the face. At least, it was supposed to. He shifts backward just enough and the now milk slaps Mary Ann in the side of the head.

“Oh, goodness,” Ayda says, flickers of flame dancing around her cheeks. “Hello. I am so sorry. That was supposed to hit Gorgug, as it was aimed for my paramour.” She bows. Fig thinks Ayda may be perfect. “Ayda Aguefort. My apologies.”

Mary Ann, as always, is completely undeterred. Fig wants to learn her ways. She tried once, but it ended with her stomping out of the room, furious. “It’s fine.” Mary Ann whips out a surprisingly long tongue and cleans the ice cream off. “It’s my ice cream, anyway. You’re the principal’s kid?”

Ayda nods and glances at Fig. “Yes. I’m Ayda Aguefort.”

“Cool,” Mary Ann says. “I’m Mary Ann. Do you like Quokki Pets?”

“Who?”

Mary Ann sighs. “Fig, nobody but you. It sucks.”

“I can’t get anybody else to understand how cool they are!” Fig says, sitting on the bench and patting for Ayda to sit on her lap. “Let me see your new ones.”

It had started as a straight up lie to make Mary Ann like them, but Fig had gotten into Quokki Pets just on a whim and it was the easiest way to keep in contact with people other than crystal messages when she and Ayda were off on their travels. Mary Ann would add details of what happened at school or games in the little blurbs of their Pet Chats, and Fig would find out all the little stuff nobody else thought to tell her. She misses the big things, like Kristen and Cassandra alone saving a hoard of possessed water genasi from a poorly controlled pharmaceutical waste dump and Fabian’s winning pass during Homecoming, but she also misses the little things. Hallariel’s weird pregnancy cravings. Adaine’s new bedroom setup. Gorgug’s Cloefca design. Mary Ann tells her all about it in the messages.

Fig had saved the one that said Fabian got pooped on by a pigeon today at practice and made it her phone background. It’s been there for months.

“Figueroth!” Basrar says, eyes sparkling. “It is good to see you again! It is not as fun with your friends without your shenanigans.”

“You say fun, but I think you mean chaotic, and I’m good with either.” She turns to Ayda. “What do you want?”

“I – don’t know?” Ayda looks at Basrar. “Which of your ice creams is best melted?”

Basrar’s expression shifts to one of alarm. “Fig, I do not understand –”

“Gimme the usual and one scoop of your five best sellers,” Fig decides.

“Fig,” Ayda says, and it’s almost charming how bad she is at whispering, “I don’t eat ice cream.”

“You didn’t eat ice cream,” Fig corrects. “I got this.” She frowns. “Wait. Stand up.”

Ayda looks baffled, but she does as Fig requests. Fig loves her. Basrar balances the five ice creams on his arms as they appear and sets them down on the already full table. Fig will make it work.  

“Okay, now sit.”

Ayda sits. Fig straddles her lap.

“Whoa, whoa,” Fabian says, hands up in front of him. “Keep that for the bedroom.”

“Don’t be stupid, Fabian,” Fig says, getting a spoonful of ice cream. “I’m giving her a new experience.”

“That does sound like something I’ve said in the bedroom,” Kristen says, almost wistfully.

“If you make me suffer the idea of Officer Kristen again, I’m creating another simulacrum and sending her to kill you.” Adaine looks dead serious, and Fig takes the moment of distraction to put the spoon to Ayda’s lips.

“Quick,” Fig murmurs. “Before it melts.”

Ayda leans in and takes the ice cream, eyes widening. “Oh!”

“No sex at the table!” Riz barks.

“If this is sex, we’ve been putting in way too much effort,” Mary Ann mutters. Gorgug chokes on his milkshake, Riz yelps in horror, and it gives Fig the chance to give Ayda another spoonful of ice cream. Her eyes flutter shut, almost transcendent. She smiles around the spoon. Fig feels victorious.

“There,” Fig says, finding herself a little breathless. “Now you’ve had ice cream. What do you think?”

Ayda opens her eyes slowly and gives Fig the sweetest smile the world could have ever dreamt of. “I think,” Ayda says, “I would love anything you gave me.”

Kristen starts making gagging sounds, which is pretty rich coming from somebody who used to pull handcuffs out of her backpack while looking for her lunch at school.

“Oh, can it,” Fig snaps. “Go text Tracker or have sex with corn or something.”

Ayda stares. “There’s sentient corn in Elmville?”

“No!” Kristen shrieks. “I do not have sex with corn!”

“She masturbates with corn,” Fig clarifies. “It’s the same concept.”

“I’m going to run into the woods,” Riz mutters, slinking into the seat. “Maybe rat city will be easier to handle.”

“Are you kidding?” Mazey asks. “They’re rodents. They probably talk about sex even more than them.”

“Let the record show I didn’t say anything about sex until Kristen mentioned Officer Kristen,” Fig says. She gives Ayda another bite, sure to keep the spoon in the cup of ice water next to her to cool it down between bites.

“Fabian mentioned sex first!” Kristen says. “You suck. Go be gay somewhere else.”

“We’ve been gay somewhere else for months,” Ayda says, grinning.

“Yeah, what a shitty welcome,” Fig says. She wiggles a little to get balanced, and there’s a tiny lick of flame that dances across Ayda’s cheeks. Just for the quickest flash of a second. “Haven’t any of you missed us?”

“We have,” Fabian says. “But now you’ve shoved a dirty spoon in my water, like, eight times, so the effect has worn off.”

They chat and eat ice cream and tip Basrar absurdly, until the group of them is walking down the street toward Mordred Manor, approaching familiar lights as the sun dips down below the horizon.

“We look like hooligans,” Riz says gleefully. “Watch out, world, the Bad Kids are stepping out.”

“That was the dorkiest thing you could have said,” Kristen says, not even looking up from her phone. She grins.

“I know that smile,” Fig says. “Are you texting Tracker?”

Kristen’s eyes flit over to Fig. “What? No. Who’s Tracker?”

“You are so stupid,” Adaine says fondly, resting her head on Kristen’s shoulder. “I adore you.”

“You’re no help,” Kristen grumbles. “Yes, I’m texting Tracker. We’re…trying the friends thing. Before anything gets too romantic again. Don’t want to rush into things this time.”

“Can’t relate.” Fig grabs Ayda and spins her into a dip, kissing her long enough that even Fabian starts awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I get you guys are, like, living together now, but this is a lot.”

Fig pulls away. “Mom!” She grabs Ayda by the hand and drags her up the steps of Mordred Manor, throwing herself into her mom’s arms in a way that she hasn’t done since she was very, very small.

“I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder,” Sandra Lynn chuckles. “Hey, sweetheart.” There’s a press of lips to the top of Fig’s head, even though she’s far taller than her mother now. “I missed you, too.”

Fig pulls back to see Ayda looking a little uncomfortable, a little awkward, until Sandra Lynn pulls her in for a hug.

“I’ll burn you!” Ayda half squawks.

“I have burn cream,” Sandra Lynn says. She holds Ayda close, and there’s no signs of panicked flame. Ayda looks relaxed.

The hug lasts long enough for the rest of the group to shuffle into the house, and it’s Ayda and Fig and her mom hanging out on the porch. It feels more natural than Fig could have expected. It feels easier than it has since before high school.

“I’m glad to have you back, even if it is just for a short time,” Sandra Lynn says, kissing Ayda’s forehead briefly then pulling away. “Ah. Forgot.”

Ayda, looking a little baffled, blinks. “Sorry. I run warm, as I am a bird of fire.”

“No need to apologize, kiddo,” Sandra Lynn says, and Fig’s not sure she’s ever loved her mom more. “Alright. Let’s head in. You all got ice cream already?”

Ayda lights up, and Fig’s heart does a really weird flippy thing that could easily be a severe medical illness she decides to ignore. “Fig gave me ice cream,” Ayda says, basically floating into the door. “Real ice cream. Still frozen!”

Sandra Lynn listens intently to Ayda speaking about the best ice cream she tried – the strawberry cheesecake was her winner – as they enter the living room. Gorgug looks completely disinterested as Fabian, Adaine, and Mary Ann appear to be in some sort of argument.

“I just suggested the Quokki Pets movie again because your ideas suck,” Mary Ann says, like she’s vaguely engaged in the conversation. There’s probably other things she’s more interested in than the move, as she’s seated in Gorgug’s lap, but Fig’s begun to think she just likes arguing.

“Stop insulting my movies!” Adaine yells. “It is not my fault you were all raised on Elmville trash! Get some taste!”

“I am not sitting through another one of your artsy fartsy movies that are all in fucking Elvish,” Fabian says. “And I speak Elvish! What about Gorgug?”

“I don’t really care what we watch,” Gorgug says, his hands around Mary Ann’s waist. She’s been good for him, Fig thinks. He looks relaxed. “But, um, something in a language I understand would be nice.”

Riz opens his mouth, almost definitely to suggest one of his weird history documentaries, when Kristen giggles. It’s unexpected enough that she wouldn’t be advocating for Imagine Me and You for the millionth time that the room goes silent and everybody looks at her. The silence seems to last long enough that she looks up. “What?” Her cheeks flush. “Yeah, okay, why is everybody staring at me?”

“Go fuck a corn,” Ayda says gleefully. It’s – it’s not quite what the moment called for, exactly, but Fig can’t help but burst into laughter at Kristen’s befuddlement. The rest of the room shifts from giggles to raucous laughter suddenly enough that Fig can dive to the TV and turn on her favorite movie. She knows well enough by now that it’ll be background noise within a few minutes.

Kristen throws herself across Fig and Adaine, resting her head in Ayda’s lap as they take over the couch while Riz perches on the top of the cushions behind Fig. Fabian and Mazey commandeer Jawbone’s recliner. Gorgug and Mary Ann stretch out on the floor with Boggy settling on Adaine’s knee, but close enough that Mary Ann can reach out to give him pats on the top if his round head. They talk and tease, and Fig realizes how much she’s missed this in the first semester she’s been away from Aguefort. She wipes at her eyes right before the dramatic ending of the movie. She would have gotten away with it if her elbow hadn’t bumped Kristen in the shoulder.

“Are you crying?” Kristen asks through a handful of popcorn Jawbone had brought in around the hour mark.

“No,” Fig says. “Shut up.”

“She is,” Ayda says, snuggling more into Fig’s side. “But it’s because she loves us all very much.”

“Not crying,” Fig lies.

“We missed you too, Fig.” Adaine bumps her head against Fig’s. “And we love you, too.”

“Sappy,” she squeaks. But she really never has felt so loved as she does right now.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Yknow what. I’m not done complaining about dc. I started bitching in the tags of my prev post & i have more feelings. I get a stack of dc every month & we’ll take the vertigo (i refuse to call it anything else if only cause it’s shorter) stuff out i still have like 6 titles a month. That is if dc decides they’ll actually put out a jsa issue that month. The ones I’m most excited to read rn? Flash, Birds of Prey, & Green Arrow. Why? Cause the characters feel like the characters i fell in love with & the story is actually compelling. Yes, green arrow is suffering hard from the crossover shoehorning but the whole physically cannot occupy the same time and space as the people you love is a legit issue for Ollie & fascinating gotcha from Merlyn. Like, it’s novel! And I’m curious to see how it shakes out. The weird string theory/comic book physics around the speed force that spurrier is doing in flash is honestly REALLY cool. I’ll be the first to say i couldn’t care less about the speed force. It works cause it’s plot the only reason the flashes study it is cause they’re a bunch of adhd scientists who can’t help themselves & the writers feel the need to put their stamp on it. The whole weird dimensions & alien beings & time cops is super strange but hella compelling & the way it’s affecting the characters & eroding their relationships which are so core to flash characters is really amazing I love how much it hurts. Truly i cannot wait to see how exactly this shakes out. Know what I don’t care for? Whatever the fuck Amanda Waller is doing. I, who normally hates “let’s study the speed force!” stories wishes we could get back to studying the speed force cause the whole ham fisted analogy crossover thing is so boring & not even original. I think dc has done this exact plot at least twice before. In main continuity. It pops up every couple years anymore & it will never be what the 80s x-men were & they need to just stop trying. And bop! I love bop right now! I could wax poetic about the art styles cause they’re stunning & SO expressive. In a post where I’m bitching about stories I’ll just leave it there. The story itself? Pretty interesting, if standard bop stuff at first. Gotta put a ragtag team of gals together to do something low key shady cause it’s the right thing. The team is a nice mix; tho I’m not sorry to see Harley go, she’s another character that I understand sells comics but I am so sick of seeing it is not even funny. It’s not even that I dislike her as a character I’m just over her being in every single comic. And the dimension hopping weird babs rescue mission? I’m in! Where we going next? What even is the reason? Sure, we just rescued sin in a very similar plot structure but idc! The writing is fun! The dialogue is fun! The page of Cass’s reactions to vixen’s lingerie options is BRILLIANT! Love the lineup! It’s nailing what I think jsa is attempting but in a more fun & lighthearted tone. Tbh I’m not sure cause I’m still not sure what’s going on in jsa since they seem to publish it at will every like 3-5 months so I have no real clue what’s going on in that one. And I’ve been reading it for like 2 years now. I’m so tired of Nightwing & titans. I, a titans girlie, find it so boring. They’re both boring! From go they’ve been extensions of each other which is frustrating. Some moments in each I really enjoy! But overall? I still don’t see where Nightwing is going & tbh it feels like dick has spent this whole time doing nothing. Despite the fact that we were told he did so much he got a key to the city! He did adopt a dog. That’s like the most memorable & only real thing that he achieved. Cause the foundation? He’s a bat. They all do that. And titans? Oh wow. Another Raven goes evil story. Wow. How shocking. How original. Like honestly, is there some word on high at dc about the titans not being allowed to do a story that isn’t rehashing Judas contract or trigon? Cause I cannot be the only person bored with those being the only 2 titans plots anymore.

[illegiblescript]

I made this blog for talking when I feel like I have no one to talk to. I've been using it to let out a lot of negative feelings, but sometimes I feel like I don't have anyone to talk to about the good stuff either.

I mean, I haven't used this blog in a while, so I've actually had people who talked to me and listened to me and hung out with me and made me feel included for a bit! I went to job corps as an office admin trainee. I finished in less than 5 months and now I have an awesome job as a title clerk/administrative assistant.

at job corps, I had a large group of decent friends and a smaller (but still pretty big) group of close friends and found myself hanging between friend groups very often. I miss them every single day. my instructor was amazing and really, because of her truly believing in me so much that I had no choice but to believe in myself, I was able to say for the first time in my life that I was proud of myself. I've been proud of things I've done, but never of myself. for a large majority of my time, my dorm was a family to me. we all lifted each other up and, even though things were going smooth because of my distance from home, I knew that if I needed someone to talk to, I could knock on any door and someone would listen. it's been difficult not having that anymore.

but after job corps, I started this sweet job! it pays well, I'm getting experience for the position I want to retire in, I enjoy what I do, and it's just me and my boss and my boss is so cool. I cannot express how much she has made this enjoyable. not only is she just an all around enjoyable person to be around, she and I both have adhd, so the way she teaches Perfectly matches the way I learn. it's unreal. I haven't even been there a full month yet (very close) and when I did orientation, I told her I had planned a trip and wanted to know if it would work for me to go on it and she was totally okay with it and keeps bringing it up, asking for pictures. ah! it's awesome!

I mean, there are not so awesome things too, but even though they really upset me for a brief moment, I've learned to handle it. before job corps, I wouldn't have reached out to a friend to talk about it, but I did and the response was what it should be when you have a friend in need and enough space to listen. long story short, I've been feeling really lonely. people like me, but not enough to make the sacrifices I've been making and that friendships require. I recently had a friend completely stop talking to me after I asked for better communication. I hurt him on accident, he hurt me on purpose in response, and although I apologized (he hasnt responded) and I'm worried about him, I don't think I want be friends with him anymore. on top of that, I've kinda noticed that no one really talks to me. if I don't start any conversations, I will not have any conversations. there are certain friends I don't expect that from, but when I can go nearly any length of time without anyone trying to start a conversation with me, it gets disheartening. I've tried not to let it bother me and I've decided to start playing viola more. I'm more excited to play viola more than I am upset about being lonely. things are alright B)

[doctortreklock]

The Derision of Sartorial Speculation - March 27, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: Imagine person A of your otp is reading a book late at night and person B can’t sleep so they ask person A to read to them so person A starts reading out loud and a few minutes later person B is completely knocked out and person A gives them a kiss on their forehead. (x)

Fandom: Good Omens

Words: 734

Like everything else, the clothes angels wear correspond, and since they do correspond they truly exist. Their clothes reflect their intelligence, so all the people in heaven are dressed according to their intelligence; and since one will surpass another in intelligence, one will have better quality clothing than another.

Aziraphale snorted, belatedly throwing a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the sound. The figure next to him on the bed grumbled and rolled over.

The most intelligent wear clothes that gleam as though aflame, some radiant as though alight. The less intelligent wear pure white and soft white clothes that do not shine, and those still less intelligent wear clothes of various colors. The angels of the inmost heaven, though, are naked.

He couldn't help the chuckle this time. Beside him, the dark-haired being grumbled some more and sat up against the headboard, so they were shoulder to shoulder.

"C'mon, Zira," Crowley groaned. "It's hard enough trying to get to sleep without you giggling over there."

"I'm sorry, my dear," Aziraphale said, though his sincerity was belayed by the smile on his face. "I just can't help it."

"You could stop reading," Crowley interjected sourly.

"It's this Swedenborg chap," Aziraphale continued as if Crowley hadn't interrupted. "He has very...peculiar thoughts on angels."

"Swedenborg..." Crowley squinted as he tried to remember. "Swedish chap, alchemist, thought Jesus told him to stop stuffing his face?"

Aziraphale sighed. "An accurate, but limited summary, my dear."

"Well how would you put it?" Crowley asked crossly.

"A Swedish anatomist and metallurgist who believed he could talk to angels and demons and spirits and wrote a book that includes a chapter on what angels wear." Aziraphale started with a straight face and the best of intentions, but by the end he was gesticulating wildly, barely managing not to clip Crowley on the head with the thick volume he was holding.

Crowley scowled in recognition. "Was he the wanker who said the Serpent of Eden was a metaphor for the senses?"

Aziraphale pursed his lips. "And the Guardian of the Eastern Gate was a metaphor for the way self-absorption keeps you from considering doubting."

Crowley snorted in derision. "So what's he got to say that's got you in stitches? Or is it a laugh-or-cry scenario?"

"No, no, nothing like that, my dear. He just..." Aziraphale searched for a way to properly convey the sheer ridiculousness of the text. He came up empty. "Just listen."

Aziraphale cleared his throat, turned the page, and began reading, the Latin flowing cleanly and easily from his tongue. "Because angels’ clothes correspond to their intelligence, they also correspond to what is true, since all intelligence comes from divine truth."

Crowley huffed a laugh and began to sink down on the bed, relaxing into the pillows. "He obviously never saw your tartan, angel."

"Hush. So it amounts to the same thing whether you say that angels are dressed according to their intelligence or according to divine truth. The reason the garments of some angels gleam as though aflame, while the garments of others shine as though alight, is that flame corresponds to what is good, and light to what is true because of that good."

"Flaming sword," Crowley mumbled, his eyelids drooping.

"Quite. The reason some garments are pure white and soft white and do not shine, while others are of various colors, is that divine good and truth are less dazzling and are also differently accepted among less intelligent people."

The expected comment from Crowley did not emerge, and Aziraphale looked down to see the demon fast asleep. He paused in his reading and watched Crowley sleep for a moment, a soft smile spreading on his face. "Good night, my dear," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Crowley's forehead. The demon mumbled something back that might have been "G'night, angel."

Aziraphale turned back to his book, but hesitated. It seemed quite impossible to read Swedenborg with a straight face, and Crowley had just dropped off. Besides, Aziraphale decided, the next section was on angelic housing, and Crowley was sure to enjoy listening to that.

The angel closed the book gently and set it on his nightstand. His reading light obligingly found itself dimmed, and Aziraphale settled down into the bed, curving towards his demonic companion, who curled himself into Aziraphale's warmth like the snake he once was.

They slept.

[theageoftheunderstatement]

The Sydney Morning Herald: Arctic Monkeys left planet rock a while back. Is The Car the U-turn fans wanted?

Written by Michael Dwyer, 13/10/2022

Alex Turner is looking shellshocked. The man widely hailed as one of rock’s greatest lyricists is nursing a green tea he hopes will nip his European jetlag in the bud and doing his best to answer the questions I’ve flown halfway around the world to ask him.

The Arctic Monkeys frontman says he was expecting the band’s latest album, The Car, would find them back on familiar ground following the polarising sixth album that unsettled some fans in 2018. But then he admits that they may not be “completely off the moon yet”.

Some time ago, he’d hinted that this forthcoming album would mark a popular return, of sorts, to the more sinewy live band stuff that made Arctic Monkeys Britain’s fastest-selling garage rock sensation 16 years ago.

But promises count for little when the muse drapes herself across the piano in a velveteen suit and yields a fabulous lead single called There’d Better Be A Mirrorball. If the sophisticated sci-fi of the Sheffield band’s last album, Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino, ruffled a few hoodies, The Car signals a continued, unrepentant evolution of sound and mood.

Turner agrees in his hesitant, oblique way. “I thought if I called it The Car it meant that I was back on Earth suddenly,” he half jokes. “But I’ve found it’s not that simple.”

Sitting in an otherwise empty bar at the east end of Hollywood Boulevard that’s been opened just for us, Arctic Monkeys’ singer, writer and conceptual architect looks earthbound enough in his bright blue jeans, neatly pressed khaki shirt and casually excellent coif.

He wears the job of explaining himself in the first round of another hundred interviews with a certain stoic deliberation. He’s clearly the kind of artist more comfortable expressing himself in the act of creation than in conversation, and I’m warned in advance he takes his time answering questions.

This is probably one reason we’re face-to-face here in LA rather than stumbling on the phone. Another is doubtless a strategy to regain some of the US/ international traction that slipped with that last mould-shattering album.

In truth, there’s little Turner can say that could match the wry, eloquent observations of his lyrics. “I had big ideas, the band were so excited, the kind you’d rather not share over the phone,” he sings on Big Ideas, an especially lush new track. “But now the orchestra’s got us all surrounded and I cannot for the life of me remember how they go.”

He smiles at that. “I like the idea that it knows it’s a record,” he says.

Born to a languages teacher and a swing band musician, Turner’s trademark poetic insight into his immediate surroundings was fully formed with the first Arctics album of 2006, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not. But a first-class trans-Atlantic rock star upgrade later, the teenaged rough and tumble of Friday night in the clubs of northern England has naturally given way to more surreal subject matter, seemingly informed by the showbiz cocoon that this city is renowned for.

“I wouldn’t rule that out,” he says at last, more mystified than evasive. “I think it sometimes takes a degree of hindsight to assess how much or how little a place has influenced something you’ve done.”

He admits that there were certain moments on that last album, a loose concept outing set in an off-world luxury hotel, that “connected with this place”. The space-age lounge setting could be read as a bemused metaphor for life among the pampered rock star elite. “I just wanted to be one of The Strokes,” went the first line to the Hollywood cocktail bar opener, Star Treatment. “Now look at the mess you made me make.”

Prosaic album title aside, The Car is another clever metaphor, as the leader of Sheffield’s most celebrated gang of youths continues his escape into lavishly arranged and lyrically layered territory with ample reference to the resistance he’s encountered en route. It’s an album that knows how much its precursor polarised fans and critics miffed by the piano-led departure from the Arctics’ electric guitar roots.

“The setting” for any record, he says not unreasonably, “is the situation that I felt I knew the best. With [the first album], that is what felt comfortable at that time and then as time goes on that becomes perhaps less comfortable. You start to ask the question, well, should it be comfortable, even, now?

“I can’t completely concede that I’m still writing about my surroundings in that same way but … I can’t completely disagree either. But then, I don’t know if it always has to be totally honest, either. There’s times when I think it makes sense to reach into some unknown and see what you can get.

“That whole idea of how to write, and what am I going to write about, that question feels like it belongs very much to that time after that first record. I can vaguely remember wondering, how much more of this am I going to do? Not how much more of writing about the taxi rank, necessarily, but … I didn’t see this place where we are now, then.”

How could he have? In a few days, Arctic Monkeys will be the climactic act at LA’s three-day Primavera Sounds Festival, one of precious few rock acts in a global pop landscape completely transformed since young Alex Turner thought he wanted to be one of The Strokes. Today he’s thrilled when I mention that parts of The Car remind me of Nelson Riddle’s work for Frank Sinatra.

As one of the flagship acts (with Franz Ferdinand) on leading British indie label Domino, he clearly feels a responsibility, probably even a desire to maintain a certain status quo, if not commercial then surely in terms of the bond he shares with school buddies Matt Helders (drums), Jamie Cook (guitar) and slightly later recruit Nick O’Malley (bass).

But surely he must also feel a growing disconnect between the business he’s expected to do with his band of brothers at music festivals and the more elegant, perhaps ironic, and frankly more isolated music he’s making in the studio?

“I think that’s something I was more concerned with with the last record. I remember feeling like we’re gonna struggle to stick some of these things in the set. How’s this going to play out? But in the end, it sort of worked itself out. And that gives me the confidence now to think that we can do this... With the strings element of this record, I’m probably not going to go down that road in the show. But I don’t know even that. At some point, maybe.”

Sting says — Turner laughs, guessing where this is going — that grown men can’t be in rock bands. Life inevitably draws gangs of boys apart as they discover who they are and what they want to do. In the bigger picture, it’s tempting to see the mutation of Arctic Monkeys as a neat illustration of the end of the rock age: from old school garage band to bruised solo act (in all but name) in one epic, final lap. It’s hardly fair to ask the shell-shocked protagonist to comment on that theory…

But “the way it comes together now is different,” he concedes after careful consideration. He alludes to the work he’s released in various solo and collaborative settings – as Last Shadow Puppets with Miles Kane and as solo acoustic soundtrack composer and other creative guises. They’ve slowly steered him away from the group rehearsal room process in favour of multi-track demos created solo, then presented to the lads.

So to quote his lyrics back to him, is the band really always so excited about his Big Ideas? He laughs again. “To be honest, I mean… I can’t say no, can I?”

Nothing about any of this at any point in the last 20 years has given me a reason to believe that you can go backwards.

The Primavera festival crowd is at peak sunburn when Arctic Monkeys take the headlining Sunday night stage a few days later. If I’m not mistaken, it’s a snazzy swing tune by the Stan Kenton Orchestra that heralds their arrival: nothing to frighten the kids, but not something likely to crop up on their Strokes Radio playlists either.

What follows is a cracker Arctic Monkeys festival set, mostly drawn from AM, their platinum-selling American breakthrough of 2013, an album still in the Top 10 vinyl records chart in Australia. There’s also a smattering of hits from the rest of the albums and just one for now from The Car, the ironically apt I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am.

“We’ll have more by the time we play in Australia,” Turner promises.

Sure enough, within a couple of weeks, three or four songs from The Car will have earned their place in the band’s setlist, even if the holy grail for any established rock sensation remains elusive: a brand new song with the clout to close the show.

“I’ll be totally honest,” Turner says. “There certainly was the thought at the end of the tour in 2019 about … ‘Let’s do some songs that we can close the show with’. That was in my head, where I thought I wanted to go, but then I sort of came to realise that it’s not there any more.

“In that moment, at the end of the tour, it seemed like it’d be easier to get back there for some reason. I don’t know why I was so naive, because nothing about any of this at any point in the last 20 years has given me a reason to believe that you can go backwards.”

What he says next might be a veiled clue about what lies ahead for him in relation to the band he might, according to the Sting maxim, outgrow and retire any moment now. Maybe this latest, unapologetic leap forward comes with an implicit invitation for his fans and his brand to simply take it or leave it. Or like his lyrics, it might just be him thinking aloud, leaving us to join the dots.

“What I do think,” he says, “is in essence, something about that initial idea of this kind of show-closer thing does feel like it has stuck around in the creation of this record. It’s just like an inverted version of what that meant in my mind in 2019.

“I’m not saying that any of these songs are necessarily going to close a show and be like that moment in the gig, but I do think there’s something … if I squint, there’s something about that feeling that does exist.”

It makes me think of Perfect Sense, the gorgeous, elegiac closing song on the new record. “Sometimes I wrap my head around it all and it makes perfect sense,” Turner sings. “Keep reminding me that it ain’t a race when my invincible streak turns onto the final straight. If that’s what it takes to say goodnight then that’s what it takes.”

I mean, if you could find yourself an audience that would allow you to finish with that song, that’s kind of unbeatable, I suggest. He considers that idea for a while, as if for the first time. “Right, right,” he says at last.

[liketheinferno2]

I cannot express the degree of unhinged cathartic mania I am feeling about the dark knight quests, huge spoilers ahead:

(I have failed) to keep this brief:

DRK as a class OPENS on the concept of putting down abusers and rapist knights to make the world safer for the vulnerable. That is what the class is ABOUT, it is the very first thing you do when that sword's placed in your hands.

Dark Knights as an in-universe concept started with a knight who cut down a pedophile priest in the street and had to renounce his title. All others carry on this legacy.

Rielle is being relentlessly pursued by a priest with a task force of knights, and if you've been paying attention to that first part, YOU ARE NOW AFRAID.

But then they reveal it's her mother who wants her dead because of dragon blood bullshit, so maybe not.

Sid has this to say when that first comes up:

I must note she denies him twice in this scene. Nonspecific and vaguely at that, but he's not talking about the specific thing she thinks he is either. He's extending a hand to say "you didn't want it, you're not tainted and I'll keep you safe from anything like [whatever happened] from now on", in a way she can relate to. I don't believe Sidurgu believes in the concept of sin as it is in Halonic faith, but Rielle does, so that's how he phrases it. He's also projecting a hell of lot in order to make this assumption, but that's a whole other can of worms.

Sid and Rielle are written as two people who implicitly understand what is wrong with the other one because they see too much of themselves in each other. Rielle should be far, far too young to be able to do this considering what Sid's been though, and Sid is frighteningly on-the-nose with most of his assumptions about Rielle despite never consulting her. Both of these reflect terribly on each other.

Rielle hides things from him for no apparent reason, even though she's otherwise extremely sensitive and intelligent. This is really common of abused kids and I like how real it is, it causes PROBLEMS.

Despite the problems it's that deep understanding that allows them to have their confrontations without any fear, the selfishness inherent in self defense butts up against the pain of watching others suffer when you could be suffering for them. Or, god forbid, no one need suffer at all...

But then Rielle says this:

The implication being that he keeps her around because she's desirable. Not only is Sid horrified by this accusation, it's also like... extremely significant that Rielle thinks this is an insult you can flippantly level at a PARENTAL FIGURE.

I'm just gonna paste a couple of the bits from Ystride here:

(Equating Rielle to her ex husband)

"Pray forgive my sins, for laying down with Your enemies."

Sid equating this to his own life SO HEAVILY that he confuses who he's fighting for also feels noteworthy to me. "At last," he says, "it was my turn." Which implies that it took a while.

It's layered. It's so layered. It's put together in the strange ways these two interact with each other exclusive of you. You're an outsider in this narrative, while Sid and Rielle are Those Who Know. If you're playing this and you know, you get clued into all these little horrors underneath what is already a harrowing story. I didn't think this game could EVER get me excited about a questline where someone other than the WOL is the protagonist going through their big journey, because I've disliked it all other times it happened, but they've gone and done it here. This was brutal and real and it barely had to tell me anything directly. GOOD CLASS.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

make me be true, make me be blue // Anthony Bridgerton

A/N: As much as I love Benedict, I also love Anthony. The last part of this is extremely inspired by a scene from The Crown - let’s see if you can guess which one! Title: Harry Connick jr - It Had To Be You

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: arguing, an argument, lots of love and fluff, caring, established relationship, married couple, suggestiveness, female pronouns, use of word ‘wife’. 

Word count: 2.8k

As the season in London drew to a close, it could be seen on every face that they were tired of the dancing and the music and the lukewarm lemonade. It was never a comment on the talent of the musicians unless, perhaps, it was a Smythe-Smith musical. Their seasonal musical was never welcomed with much excitement, but very few could say no to the quartet of young women.

Nevertheless, whomever the artist may be, many were glad for the season to draw to a close. Sighing tiredly, you bid your goodbyes to the latest lady to draw you into conversation. Your lavender skirts swish gently under foot as you wander around the lavishly decorated ballroom, in search for your dear husband.

You spy his hair first; the dark brown hair standing a head taller than the rest of the men he currently spoke with. Repressing another tired sigh, you note that the elderly white-haired men Anthony was standing with were of large importance in society.

“The Revolution was over two decades ago, and it seems France traded in one monarch for another,” is what you hear as you sidle up to Anthony. He smiles down at you, hooking his arm through yours, before turning his attention back to the conversation.

Anthony nods along; his interest piqued but not to the point where he would happily contribute to the debate. Instead, he simply offers, “True, a king for an emperor.”

“Surely Napoleon is still in exile,” You comment lightly, eyebrows furrowing at the topic of conversation between the men. They would never see a day of war between them; having enough money between them meaning they would not have dress in a uniform. As such, there was no need for the conversation.

“Dear girl, Napoleon left Elba and landed back in Paris last week. Do you read the papers?” Lord Hugo states, a dismissive look on his face as if questioning your very presence in the conversation. He frowns at your comfortable stance next to your husband, wondering why you aren’t socialising with the other wives.

A flush heats your body; rising anger. Turning to Anthony, you squeeze the hand that rests on his forearm, a silent plea for help but your husband remains silent.

Ducking your head, you state through clenched teeth, “Pardon me, Lord Hugo. I must be making a round of the room; I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was neglecting my womanly duties.”

“As you should,” The Lord replies as you turn your back to him. You bristle from the comment, back straightening despite the corset designed to do such an action. It wouldn’t be long now until Anthony wrapped up the conversation; seeking you out through the crowd. For you however, the ball was over – nothing left to be said.

------------

Stalking through the large house, you ignore the increasing calls of your husband. Having left the carriage in a hurry of skirts, silks and ribbons, Anthony had begun immediately calling your name – wanting you to stop and wait, to stop and listen.

Even the Butler remains silent as he catches a glimpse of your face and the thunderous expression it currently holds. Silently, the Butler offers a prayer for the wellbeing of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.

“You’re really going to remain silent?” Anthony calls from the bottom of the staircase, one foot poised on the bottom step, ready to launch himself upstairs at a moment’s call.

Pausing in your retreat, you throw a glare at your husband. A look that definitely shows you were not up for talking on the stairs.

Anthony nods, seemingly understanding this. “So it’s the silent treatment until we’re in our room,” He pauses, beginning the ascent to the bedroom he has shared with you since the first night of your marriage, “Understandable.”

You roll your eyes, walking away from the man that had managed to vex you so thoroughly.

Shoving open the door to your shared bedroom does little to siphon off some of the anger you feel. In fact, it only increases when you try to work the laces of your dress free by yourself, frustrated tears brewing in the corner of your eyes as you manoeuvre yourself into every position possible to try and free yourself.

Slumping at your dressing table, you come to realise that it was more humiliation that you felt.

Your husband was a marvellous man; intelligent, funny, respectful and incredibly handsome. Yet, he had moments where he could so fantastically obtuse.

The moment played in your mind on a constant loop; the words of disdain from the Lord, Anthony’s silence. A constant loop in your mind; it would be a while before your mind rested enough to let you have some peace.

Brushing your hands through your hair, you loosen the pins that keep in place, beginning the painstaking process of removing them. All the while thinking that if the night had gone better, Anthony would be the one removing them, offering you a kiss for each pin removed.

--------

Anthony had taken his time walking to the bedroom, running through the events of the evening, thinking where he might have gone wrong – said the wrong thing, done the wrong thing. He found the moment; realised what he had said or rather, what he hadn’t said, and how it had come across. Lord Hugo was an incredibly influential man, and whilst Anthony outranked him in his peerage, his youth made him all but an inexperienced whelp in Hugo’s eyes.

Hindsight was truly an excellent gift to possess. He should have said something; Hugo’s influence be damned. He should have spoken up; should have defended you.

Gently, he rests his forehead against the closed door of the bedroom. He takes a deep breath and places a hand on the wooden panel; desperate to reach through to you, but he knows that there is far more on your mind than comfort at this point.

Anthony enters the bedroom slowly, closing the door softly behind him. “Are you ready to talk me now, darling?” Anthony asks, voice soft but tone wary as he takes in your defeated state.

“You humiliated me in front of that odious man by staying silent.”

His eyes widen; truly unaware of such a misdeed taking place. “I didn’t know, truly.”

“That’s what hurts most, Anthony. This is not a marriage of equals, darling. I know you love me as much as I love you, but I have brought nothing to this marriage. I did not get the pleasure to go to university despite doing so well in my studies. I cannot travel freely, and I cannot speak my mind whenever I damn well please. There are going to be some topics that I am not going to be an expert on, but you can try your best not to defend me when I get things wrong.”

“Darling, I didn’t mean any harm.”

You sniffle, wiping away the few tears that have dared to fall. “I know you didn’t, yet it still happened.”

Anthony opens and closes his mouth, searching for something – anything – to say that could make this better, but nothing comes to mind, so nothing leaves his mouth.

A pained noise leaves your lips as you turn away from your husband, reaching for your face cream, your hairbrush – anything to keep your hands busy and the tears at bay.

Finally, a sigh is all you hear, and you figure that the conversation is done for the evening. A lingering kiss is placed to the top of your head before Anthony leaves the bedroom, presumably retiring to his study.

Once free of the confines your dress, you dress for bed, crawling under the covers. Running a hand down your face, you couldn’t help but hope Anthony would join you soon. Despite the anger you felt at the man, you couldn’t fall asleep without him next to you.

---------

You wake alone. Anthony’s side of the bed is ruffled; he had joined you an hour after you had slide under the covers. He hadn’t said anything; he had simply gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly, pressing apologetic kiss after apologetic kiss to whatever piece of bare skin he could reach.

Stretching a hand to his side of the bed, the sheets are cold. Reaching for his pillow, you hold it to your face, inhaling the spiciness of whatever cologne he used last night. Keeping the pillow close, you turn onto your back, thinking over the events of last night.

You had every right to be annoyed; you had every right to feel the way you did. If this was a different society, you would not rely on Anthony to defend you – you would have spoken your mind to Lord Hugo. But this was not a different society, and its trappings were stifling. For the hope of future generations, you couldn’t help but pray things would soon change.

------------

The day moves slowly. Tea with Anthony’s mother and sisters followed by a visit to the modiste. No sign of Anthony with every visit home and your mood drops with every shake of the Butler’s head.

Eventually, you find refuge in the library, searching through the books and the papers there. It had been so long since you had read something that was not a romance. Pride and Prejudice had been published just two years ago and you had read it countless times; enjoying the author’s way with words and her creation of Mr. Darcy. However, instead of picking up the latest romance, you chose to return to the books you had so adored in your education – historical accounts of past monarchs and their reigns, accounts of wars.

It was not for the sake of Lord Hugo who sneered at you with such derision; it was for your benefit. Knowledge was free and you owned the library through marriage, why shouldn’t you take a look?

-----------

The Butler clearing his throat is what brings your attention back to the present. Having lost yourself so freely in an account of the witch hunts that had plagued the north of England; the book had caught your eye, tucked away and gathering dust. The subject had immediately caught your interest, and you soon found yourself searching for all the books you could on the subject.

Smiling sheepishly at the Butler, you ask, “Have some guests arrived? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

He shakes his head, smiling fondly at you, “I thought you would like to know that the Viscount has returned home. He is currently in his study.”

Standing from your chair, you deposit your book on a table before thanking the Butler and rushing up the stairs to Anthony’s study. You pause just outside the door, gathering yourself, tidying your appearance and slowing your breathing to an acceptable rate.

Knocking on the door, your heart begins to pound in your chest as you hear his warm voice giving you permission to enter.

Anthony freezes in his chair when he sees you enter his study. Your eyes are bright and there’s a faint flush to your skin that has Anthony’s eyes raking over your body, curious to know what’s caused such a reaction in you.

“Darling,” He greets, voice kind and warm.

“Darling,” You reply, watching the smile grow across his face when he hears the fondness in your voice.

“How has your day been?” Anthony asks, drawing out the inevitable conversation.

You smile widely, “I spent most of it in the library, reading.”

“A new romance novel?”

You shake your head, smoothing down the skirts of your sage green dress, “The trials of the Berwick and Pendle witches.”

Anthony’s eyes widen almost comically. “I didn’t even know we had books on the topic.”

“Neither did I, but I’ve been reading through the accounts all day. It truly is fascinating. Did you know History was my strongest subject when I was in education?”

Again, Anthony shakes his head. He didn’t know; he hadn’t asked. You shrug, “Arithmetic, Geography, Latin… They never grasped me as much as History did. I would read for hours about whatever I could find: the Tudors, the Saxons, military strategy…” At the further widening of Anthony’s eyes, you continue, “I suppose as I grew older and I was then out as a debutante, I lost the habit.”

“Perhaps,” Anthony murmurs before saying, “You can always find the habit again.”

You smile widely; the grin brightening your face as it stretches to your eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that darling,” You begin, “I want to be more involved, Anthony. I don’t want to be a silent partner; I want to be there; I want to comment. I want to know what is happening with foreign affairs whether it is Napoleon or the price of tea. I want to know because I want to be on a more equal footing with you. I refuse to be humiliated that way again; it was awful, to be dismissed in that manner by that loathsome man.”

You stand before your husband, chest heaving in your restrictive dress. The words lay loud in the room; your plea for Anthony to speak up for you, your demand for further equality in your marriage.

“I called on Lord Hugo this afternoon,” Anthony states rather plainly after you fall silent, as if the meeting had been in his date book for months.

“You did?” You frown at him; wondering whether he had heard a single word that you had flung into the great expanse.

He nods. “He was rather surprised to see me. I’ll admit I didn’t plan on calling on him, but I kept thinking of last night and how destroyed you looked. I don’t ever want to see that look on your face again for as long as I shall live. So,” He shrugs, “I paid the Lord a visit.”

“How did it go?”

Anthony holds his right up and it is then that you see the dark purple now beginning to bruise his knuckles. “I may have lost my temper when I remembered how he spoke to you and how you felt afterwards,” Anthony pauses and then laughs loudly, “And I may have punched him in the face.”

“Anthony!” You berate, repressing the urge to roll your eyes at your ever vexing husband. “Is anything broken?”

He shakes his head, smiling widely, “Only Hugo’s nose.”

“My hero,” You drawl, heart racing as you take in the man that you married. The smart, brilliant and hot-headed man that you promised your forever to who had defended your honour against the man who had rudely spoken to you last night. He grins cheekily at your words, wiggling his fingers to show you that there was nothing broken – he was fine.

“You can read whatever you’d like,” He states firmly, “You can study whatever you like. Humiliate the man if there’s a next time.”

“Thank you,” You reply, holding your head high as you smile gratefully at the love of your life.

Anthony stands from his chair, having now recovered from the shock of your speech and the ease of which he can accept your demands. He had never been the easiest man to get along with; stubborn and set in his ways long before he ought to have been, but you had taken him in your stride, loving him just as fiercely as he loved you.

He rounds the desk. All the while his gaze does not leave yours. A sensual smile spreads across his face as he watches you wring your hands together – a nervous tic if there ever was any.

Leaning against the desk, Anthony crosses his ankles, resting hands upon the lip of his desk. He remains happy in the knowledge that even after the honeymoon period of your marriage was over, you would still track his every move. Your eyes dancing over his figure as he rests his weight upon the desk.

“There’s something different about you,” He finally says, breaking the silence of the room.

“Oh?” You whisper, your shoulders rolling back as you try to think about what could have changed – a new dress? A new attitude?

“You’re surer of yourself. It makes you look taller.”

“I don’t particularly think I’ve gained any height.”

“Perhaps not,” Anthony allows; a seductive smile on his face as he tilts his head to one side, regarding you. “But it presents me with two options.”

“And they are?”

“Well,” He begins, running a hand through his thick hair, “I could go and find a ladder to reach the new height of my tall wife or…”

Anthony trails off, leaving you in suspense as you find yourself taking those first few steps closer to him. Desperate to be in his arms, to be touched by the man you love - body and soul.

“Or…” You breathe; voice raspy with growing need.

“Or” Anthony beams, “She can get on her knees.”

***********

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​

[sovereiigna]

begin anew ( continued from here ) || for @earlharcourt​

Queen Charlotte was officially opening the season and of course, that came with the queen's usual splendor but this season was different. Of course rumors had come out that the queen was officially bringing one of her daughters to court and given her previous over protectiveness, it was quite the rarity.

As the Queen was announced, everyone turned to bow and go catch a glimpse of the princess. Many unmarried men were in attendance to offer themselves up to the princess, to gain such a rare chance of catching her eye. It was all rather desperate, or so Richard thought. Once the queen took her place, the music began and the overeager gentlemen suddenly lost their tongues. Richard had to stifle a laugh at the scene but decided to get a glass of lemonade before the circus truly began.

Richard was sipping his much needed drink when he almost dropped his glass at the near miss of a collision. “ It is me who needs to apologize, I was clearly in your way.” Richard returned the princess’s smile with one of his own. He could feel the envious stares from other men who seemed to forget that Richard was newly married and happily so. “Lord Richard Harcort, Earl of Harcourt.” Richard bowed. He wasn’t fond of using titles but given he was speaking to a princess, it was needed. “If you may allow me to ask, your highness, how are you finding the ball?” He assumed many had asked for a dance or two or did the idea of having to please the queen scare them off?

Marina inclined her head in acknowledgement. “My Lord Harcort, you are too gracious, I’m sure. The fault was mine, but as no harm seems to have been done, and I have been given the opportunity to make your acquaintance, we shall count it a happy accident! One can only hope all follies lead to such an ending,” she smiled.

She accepted a glass of lemonade from a passing tray, her green eyes sweeping the room once again. “One spends so long dreaming of this moment,” she replied thoughtfully, taking a sip of her drink as she took in the lights, the sweep of the dancers, the music and the soft perfumes filling the air. “And then quite suddenly... it’s here. There you are. Here I am. ... and words... fail to describe it.” Her grin broadened, and for an instant, she seemed no different than the other debutants, clustered in wide eyes, giggling groups throughout the hall -- young, bright, excitable, full of delight and expectation. “I find it absolutely enchanting! And how are you liking the evening so far?”

The princess looked back at him, and as she did, something flickered across her expression. She started to say something, then paused, as if she wasn’t sure whether or not to voice what she was thinking. But as it so often did with Marina, curiosity won out over prudence. “Forgive me, my lord... I recall reading of your engagement and marriage last season, but you seem... familiar. And I cannot seem to place you. You are a member of Parliament, are you not? Have you had occasion to visit the palace before?”

[thecharmedburrowspn-files]

Fic rec ask game

I was tagged by @illegalcerebral. Details for edition can be found on this post. If you/you’re fic is tagged below, please make your own rec list!

An ongoing multi chapter fic you are excited to get updates for right now

Honestly, every single WIP fic I’m following. However, I cannot express how much I need to know where @hogwartsmeangirls‘ The Untold Years is going. The OC, who is the main character, is so well developed and complex. I range from siding with the characters to being so frustrated with them. Really the writing is fantastic (Harry Potter, Tom Riddle x OFC).

A completed multichapter fic that you can binge read

This one was hard because most of the fics I'm following or have favorited are WIP. So I’ll cheat a little and recommend Witchcraft by a Picture which is a dark and twisty Tom Riddle x OFC. It’s been a literal decade since I read this and I still remember it. 

A oneshot you think everyone should read

I’ve read many but it doesn’t look like I’ve saved them anywhere. :/

A fic you have re-read more than once

Ok, I’ve never read a fic more than once. I don’t know why, I’ve just never gone back and reread one. There are a lot that have stuck with me over the years and I’m going to highlight one of those instead. @valleydean‘s The Sidewalks of New York was such a fun read. It’s a 1920′s Merthur period piece. I love how the characters (and many of them!) were updated to fit the new time and how the forbidden romance was made to work. 

A fic you first read over a year ago that you want to spotlight:

@akabluekat‘s Playing with Fire. Harry Potter was my first fandom and I’ve ready a lot of different fics over the years, but never one featuring a Weasley twin. akabluekat does a lovely job defining her own OCs and flushing out the side characters. The story manages to be a good mix of cute and angsty and I am interested to see if there’s a happy ending or if I’ll be left broken-hearted. (Harry Potter, Fred Weasley x ofc)

A fic that introduced you to a new ship/character/fandom:

@darknightfrombeyond‘s Anthem of the Angels. While I had once been a fan of the show, I had never read a fic for Arrow. This story has the fun twist of being a modern day arranged marriage. You get romance and mystery from the first chapter and I can’t wait to see where it goes (Arrow, Oliver Queen x ofc)

A fic you'd recommend to someone new to your fandom

It’s a WIP but Six Mornings After (@sixmorningsafter) is a great TVD All-human AU, and is worth the read (it’s so well done!). The author has even written collections of flashbacks and flashforwards to accompany this story. (steroline and bamon).

A fic you would recommend to the person who tagged you in this game.

Based off of their recs and fandoms, maybe Rebel Columbia by @starsandstormyseas. I haven't finished it (I am behind on A LOT of fics) but the premise is very interesting .

Optional: one more wildcard choice of fic.

@wordspin-shares‘s From the Sidelines has such a unique take on the TVD-verse (giant hint the title here). It’s definitely a slow burn, but I can tell it’ll be worth it. Plus, our main oc Claire has secrets of her own to contend with (Damon Salvatore x ofc).

[itsbap]

Bang Yongguk Chronicles His Journey With ‘RACE’ In An Exclusive Interview

KHIGH: We would first like to congratulate you on your latest single ‘RACE’. How does it feel to finally make a comeback?

Bang Yongguk: I want to express my gratitude towards all the staff that helped my music to come out again to the world and I would also like to thank my fans who have been waiting for me.

KHIGH: What made you select ‘RACE’ as your comeback single? What is the message that you’re trying to share?

Yonnguk: This is a song that compares life to racing in F1. This song contains the meaning that our lives are the same as F1 sports, where we cannot finish the race if we do not stop at the pit for maintenance.

KHIGH: What was the inspiration behind ‘RACE’?

Yongguk: I got a lot of inspiration from watching F1 documentary films. I don’t actually own a car, though. Haha!

KHIGH: The music video for ‘RACE’ is so trippy and cool. Are there any fun behind-the-scenes stories while filming it?

Yongguk: I remember wearing colored lenses for the first time ever since my debut. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to wear such lenses again or not but it was a pleasant experience.

KHIGH: You were part of one of the biggest K-Pop groups and even had a successful solo career with the much-loved album ‘BANGYONGGUK’. Was it intimidating while preparing for a comeback after two years?

Yongguk: Not at all. I think I could enjoy preparing it during the break and it was a time for me to develop myself, to create more new and extraordinary music. Now I wish to tell you all my story through it.

KHIGH: We are also eagerly waiting for your next album. Are there any spoilers that you can share with us?

Yongguk: It will be a more casual album than my last studio album. I would appreciate it if you could enjoy the music itself!

KHIGH: Congratulations on also launching your own agency CONSENT! What are your plans for it?

Yongguk: My primary goal is to wrap up the Bang Yongguk albums as planned in 2022.

KHIGH: You even produced JUST B’s title track ‘Damage’ which fans loved. Is your process different when you are making music for someone other than yourself?

Yongguk: I would say making music as a producer is more exciting. The process of suggesting concepts or directions and creating music for friends is very detailed and fun. I’m also in the middle of the process to become a K-Pop producer by learning the pros and cons of it.

KHIGH: You have tried all kinds of things from producing to opening an agency and even making the documentary film ‘Breath’. What kind of projects would you like to try next that you haven’t done before?

Yongguk: Probably, movie soundtracks and acting are the projects that I’m looking forward to this year.

KHIGH: You’re known for experimenting with all kinds of genres from rock and hip hop to jazz. Would you be interested in something like Bollywood or Indian music?

Yongguk: To be honest, I didn’t get to have a chance to see much of it but I am definitely interested and enjoy learning various kinds of music from all over the world. In terms of it, both Bollywood and Indian music are very new and interesting to me.

KHIGH: You and the other members of B.A.P are still close and in touch, so what would you say if you got to have a collaboration with some of them?

Yongguk: I think we can do it together at any time!

KHIGH: Fans were touched that you still refer to yourself as B.A.P’s leader. Can we expect a reunion in the near future?

Yongguk: Realistically, I don’t think anyone can force the reunion. Each member has their own company, and we cannot just do it regardless of the business aspects. But we are still together on the ground called B.A.P.

KHIGH: They have also been eagerly waiting to see you perform live. Any plans for a concert soon?

Yongguk: Due to this Covid-19 pandemic, we are in a very difficult situation in regard to those tour projects that were being planned. I also want to go meet my fans as soon as possible. I will be praying for it.

KHIGH: Finally, any last words for your fans who were waiting so long for you?

Yongguk: I’d like to say thank you to the fans who have always been a great support to me. I will always be making great music so that I can pay back on the consistent support and love I get from fans. Love you all and thank you.

source: KHIGH 

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.7k (Chapter 1)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yay, this is happening!!! My first BaekBaёk, oml I’m gonna-

Ok. I’ll admit right off the bat that I wouldn’t be posting this any time soon without my lovely beta @baekshoney​ 🖤 She’s the person I turn to when I think there’s a million little things I could’ve done better, because that’s what I always think. I had to give myself a cut-off date to finally give up editing this 😅 So, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could share your thoughts and opinions on this too. My asks, dms and comments are places where you’re always welcome! Now, let’s get into this!

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 1. The beginning of the end 

It was all too sudden.

The words he’d said deafened you. Refusing to believe what you were hearing, you shook your head and took a step back, as if doing so could start the conversation you’d just had over. Or rewind the time and allow you to prevent the words from coming out of his mouth in the first place. But he was firm, unyielding in his stance.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It’s my fault. I should’ve known better.’

Than to start this relationship, was what he meant. That he should have avoided getting in a relationship with you altogether, and breaking up with you would’ve never become an issue.

‘Why?’ You tried to speak, but your lower lip started to tremble, silencing you at once.

This was all wrong. It couldn’t have been true, what he was saying.

He licked his lips, looking away, hands forming tight fists at his sides as he tried to recollect himself and urge his body to stay frozen on the spot.

That did not work for long – the sight of you, so small, so stunned and defeated, with tears welling in your eyes while you tried to stifle them… He couldn’t. It was stupid of him to break his act so easily, but you were too precious to him to just leave you like this.

Sighing and cursing himself out in his mind, he took a stride towards you and gathered you tightly in his arms.

‘I am sorry, Y/N,’ he continued softly, hearing you hiccup in his unexpected embrace. ‘But I have to leave. We- I should’ve stayed away from you from the start. Forgive me for being so weak.’

You sobbed at his words, shaking your head stubbornly and clinging to his broad chest as an act of desperation.

‘I can come with you!’

‘No,’ he interrupted your crazy idea. ‘I’m leaving you behind. To keep you safe.’

‘Safe from what?’ You questioned, half-annoyed now.

He kept insisting that he wished to protect you, but how was leaving you all alone ensuring your security? And why would you even consider it, when you only felt safe while with him?

‘I cannot tell you. The more you know, the more dangerous it is.’

‘Baekhyunie, please,’ you wiped the tears and grabbed onto his vest as he moved to pull away. ‘You can’t just decide this on your own!’

‘Y/N,’ he took hold of your wrists, not removing them just yet. ‘I know it’s hard, and I never wanted to hurt you like this. But there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. I’d rather break your heart than risk your life, so it’s not really a choice.’

He looked around as if to make sure you were not being watched, and then leaned in to place a farewell kiss on your temple – his favorite spot. You sniffled, realization of the inevitable setting in.

‘Just let me go, flower,’ his voice lowered to a whisper, and you sobbed at the pet name. ‘You’ll be better off without me, I promise.’

‘No,’ you protested as he freed himself from your grasp, and took a step back. ‘No, Baekhyun, don’t leave,’ you clawed at his forearm, trying to stop him. ‘We can deal with it together, we can think of something! I don’t want to be without you,’ you whimpered sorrowfully.

He shook his head, shying away from your touch, while you desperately tried to hold him back.

But you couldn’t. He gently peeled your hands off to walk away, and you missed the pained crease between his eyebrows when he turned his back on you to escape your apartment.

‘Please, don’t do this…’ You whispered, voice breaking in anguish. Just as your heart was.

Yet, Baekhyun kept walking. Leaving you to weep in the unwelcoming emptiness of your home.

Leaving you for good.

***

Your relationship with Baekhyun started almost three years ago.

Still new to university life, you found yourself in the midst of a soap opera worth of drama when a bunch of transfer students joined all at once, some even in the same year as you. All highly attractive, they usually hung out together and spent less time than needed socializing with the outside world.

Not that you cared too much – sure, the excitement going around was making you curious, but they looked too handsome, almost to the extent that you found it intimidating. Ironically, the most intimidating you found Baekhyun. His then long dark hair with strands of red and a mullet hairstyle, the sharp green eyes, the pierced eyebrow, and the lip ring that made him look like a very attractive hooligan... The piercings turned out to be just as fake as the eye color, which did not disappoint you at all.

Funny enough, you only got to know this bad boy because he took a liking to retreating to the campus library. Hiding from all of the attention, of course. While some members of his clique actually basked in it, he preferred to disappear to the remote aisles of the quiet space and read a book, or, more likely, sleep with one on his chest. You saw him like that often, since you were stuck in there yourself – essays for different classes were piling up rapidly. As a diligent student, you were determined to do well in your first year of university, so dragging yourself to the library to stay glued to your laptop was the best option.

Coincidentally, you also preferred to stay in the less lively spaces, as you tended to seek peace and quiet to focus on your assignments. Your attention span… wasn’t impressive, to say the least, so you did your best to avoid any distractions. However, you didn’t count on a certain sleep lover to be one of them.

It was not the first day you spent close enough to notice the tranquil expression he wore on his face as he was snoozing. It was, however, the first time he caught you staring mindlessly in his direction. Burning the deepest shade of red in your cheeks, you grabbed your books and quickly made yourself scarce, thanking heavens for the multiple aisles of books around. You walked around for ten minutes or so, actually placing your books back where they belonged and finding a secluded corner to check out what else was on the shelves. Squinting, you tried to read the name of the tome that had gotten your attention, and raised your arm to get it from the level that was clearly too high for you. Thankfully, someone reached over your head and helped you obtain the book. You turned around to say thank you but instead were suddenly pushed back into the shelf by the taller figure with neat red strands. Speechless, you only held your book close and gaped at him, as he leaned forward.

‘Ever heard about the cat killed by curiosity?’ He hummed, eyes piercing you from above.

You swallowed, knees getting weaker as you registered the fresh musky smell coming off of his brightly colored shirt.

To push your buttons, he decided to get even more scandalously close to you, arm holding onto the rack behind you to keep balance.

‘Nothing wrong with being curious!’ You jabbered. ‘In fact, if people preserved the curiosity they have as kids they would’ve had a much bigger learning capacity as adults.’

He huffed. You weren’t sure if he was shocked or amused, because your eyes looked anywhere but his face. In fact, they lowered enough to fix on your forearm, resting across his rib cage, and your fist pressing slightly into his pec to keep him at least at a minimal distance.

At this you gasped, eyes widening and returning to his face, only to catch an inquisitive spark in his retinas as he nudged the lip ring with his tongue. Sighing, he took a step back, finally allowing some space between you.

‘Can’t write a philosophy essay with this, little flower,’ he chuckled. ‘Or if you can… I’d be impressed.’

You looked down in confusion, understanding that the book you were holding was from a Botanics section. ‘The Oxford Book of Wild Flowers’, read the title.

But… How did he know about your philosophy assignment?

***

Only later had Baekhyun confessed that he had had an eye on you for a while by the time this incident took place, but the moment of your outburst was what got to him. When he looked down at your cornered form, holding a book to your chest so innocently, and keeping him away instinctively with one arm. He had to bite his tongue to prevent a smile from making its way onto his face. That was it for him, and even though he wanted to avoid you and keep interactions with you to an absolute minimum, he couldn’t help but find ways to draw your attention. Like that one time, when you walked out of the library because the loud noises from the outside made your concentration for the night crumble.

The source of that noise was, in fact, a certain convertible, blasting the music for the entire campus to hear. You would have come up to complain that your studying was cut short if you didn’t have perfect eyesight. It allowed you to see that there was a red-haired problem sat in the car, with a bare foot resting lazily against the panel. Ready to run the other way, you turned around, meeting a solid chest with your forehead. You discovered that it was a rather cheerful guy in the same year as you, Jongin, and the other one with him was Sehun. And those two stalled you long enough for Baekhyun to make an entrance.

It was the first time he tried asking you out. And got rejected.

However, as much as you wanted to take ownership of that and say that you were playing hard to get when you walked off and left him stunned by your refusal, that was not the case. This guy made your throat go dry at the mere sight of him! He was way too handsome, and he also looked kind of… well, he looked like he’d break your heart without thinking twice about it. And that you couldn’t allow.

But then again, good girls do tend to fall for bad boys. Or was he only pretending to be bad? You’d never heard anything that discredited him, except for the way he stared people down sometimes. That once happened to a fellow student in your class. After he sat next to you during lunch.

Actually, almost the entire week following that incident you had lunch alone because everyone kept making excuses to sit elsewhere. That was how you became friends with Jongin and Sehun. Having had a few classes together, you were more or less acquainted with each other, so you didn’t mind when Jongin suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a tray and asked you if they could join. He even had lunch with you when Sehun wasn’t around – you figured that it made Jongin even more chatty. So much so, that one day he leaned across the table to get slightly closer, and used his most clandestine voice on you.

‘You know, hyung could burn a hole in anyone next to you with his glare, but I’m immune to his ‘charms’, thankfully,’ he giggled and added, ‘Still, I think you should give him a chance. Baekhyun’s a good guy, and he’s kinda torn as it is. Asking you out was a pretty big step for him.’

Honestly, you had a hard time believing that. Baekhyun… was probably the kind of guy, who never even had to ask. You could look around and easily spot a dozen eyes that were fixed on him at this very moment. Why in the world would he want to date you, clearly not the ‘easy-going’ party type? He probably wanted to get into your pants just for sport, like the rest of the pretty boys.

‘Whatever you’re thinking, it’s far from the truth. Ugh, Junmyeon will kill me for this!’ Jongin cursed himself and continued, before you could ask. ‘Hyung looks rough around the edges, but he’s really a softie. Trust me on this.’

‘Are you his wingman or something?’ You snorted dubiously, getting a little timid from this discussion.

‘Ha, are you kidding? He’s gonna strangle me if he finds out. Like I said, he’s torn between staying away from you and persisting in his efforts to take you out. Just think about it,’ he ended with an attempted (but failed) wink.

As if to take away your chance to process the unexpected input, Jongin shoved Baekhyun in your direction the very next day. Disappearing from the cafeteria right after, of course. Envy his subtlety. But, apparently, what he said earlier had an effect, so you only nodded when a flustered figure asked for permission to sit with you. He looked quite different from the previous times you saw him up close – much less confident and intimidating. But he seemed sincere when he said he just wanted one chance.

And that was how your relationship picked up. It took a whirlwind course from the very beginning, and the hot summer before your second year of university was the most torturous time ever for the both of you. Still wary of getting played, you only trusted Baekhyun enough to get intimately close months and months into dating. And he was patient with you, going at a slow pace, letting you pull away whenever you wanted. Until you didn’t want to anymore.

That last leap of faith was a beginning in itself – a true beginning of you and Baekhyun. The final seal was broken, and you entrusted yourself fully to him, which he repaid by showering you in his affection and feelings that he himself had not come to acknowledge just then.

After a year together, you were not simply allowed into the inner circle, but also educated about the special abilities that Baekhyun and his friends had. You were first interrogated by their leader, Junmyeon, who wanted to make sure you had no ulterior motives and were not going to tell a living soul about them. He called it ‘a quick chat’ as he dragged you in a scarcely furnished room where he sat you down at the small metal table across from him. The leader asked you questions and tried reading your verbal and non-verbal cues, so it was clearly an interrogation. Junmyeon was pretty experienced in this, so he could instantly tell that you were harmless. And you also passed the test, answering the most ridiculous questions about Baekhyun – apparently, that was to make sure you were not ‘faking it’ – so, he accepted you into their family.

However, knowing too much was dangerous, so you only learned about their powers and how they came from the so-called EXO Planet when they were young (talk about dating an alien!), and that the organization they called ‘the Red’ amongst themselves wanted to hunt them down. They also used to be held hostage by these people – and that was just about as much you knew about the issue because Baekhyun kept you away from the ‘unnecessary details’. He only told you that they seemed to be hidden well in this town, surrounded by just enough people to blend in and disappear. And you worried, always, because you knew too little about the dangers surrounding the group, and even less about how you could contribute to their safety.

Baekhyun laughed when you once brought it up, finding your concern nothing but cute.

‘You don’t have to worry about it, flower. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, not the other way around,’ he then said, playing with the curly ends of your hair.

You frowned at that. Why was it not your job to take care of him? If you could help, you wanted to help. But he always brushed you off, saying that the only thing you should do to help is staying out of trouble. Like that was a challenge – you either studied or hung out with him and his friends, not much room to stir trouble. The only other person you talked to regularly was your roommate, and she was also pretty harmless.

As time went by, you got closer to your own graduation, basically, one year left before you had to figure it out for yourself again. Your boyfriend was always supportive, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he imagined your future. He was always up to something but never shared it with you since it was ‘nothing for you to worry about’. Had he not shown you his actual abilities before, you would’ve certainly thought that it was a crazy lie he told you to cover up for some kind of illegal activity. In reality, some illegal activities were going on, especially since hacking and cracking was one of Minseok’s specialties (but mostly because they needed to keep their identities out of sight). Another reason why they didn’t all go to the same school when they arrived, and also why they changed their appearance ever so often. The lucky mullet was long gone by the time you had your first Christmas together, and you had had the pleasure of seeing him in multiple hair colors throughout almost three years of your relationship. Notably, the first dozen or so make-out sessions you had with him took place when he had just cut his hair and dyed it pitch black. And he still wore his fake lip ring at the time, which was an experience in itself. He did know how to use his mouth…

Admittedly, you were kind of used to being the object of the boys’ shameless teasing every time you hung out together. The way Baekhyun kept you close and fussed about everything was, apparently, atypical for their usually chill and humorous hyung. He was their second-in-command, after all, the genius behind the strategic planning of the group, and the mind that kept them hidden for so long in one place.

Because of you.

One of the boys had previously let it slip that they hadn’t lived anywhere for that long before, maybe not even for one full year. But this time Baekhyun was determined to stay for a while, now that he had an anchor.

But the day came. When he found out that they might’ve been compromised, he got scared. The way he’d never feared anything before. And he’d been through a lot, to put it mildly. Baekhyun could maintain a cold and sharp mind at all times, that was his thing, but not when it came to you. Once he figured out that there was a real chance, that they could’ve found the EXO hideout and, thus, could connect you to the boys, he couldn’t think straight. Overwhelmed by a sudden panic, he sought advice from the leader.

‘You know it’s not me who’s supposed to decide,’ Junmyeon sighed, looking at his disheveled second. ‘I told you a relationship wasn’t a good idea. I also think that keeping her close means putting her life in jeopardy.’

His words were cutting through Baekhyun as he paced the room, long fingers grasping his own hair.

‘But it still may be a safer option than leaving her here,’ the leader added, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘We need to relocate fast, and you have the ‘better of two evils’ situation on your hands.’

‘I know I should leave her,’ Baekhyun stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the leader. ‘But what if they already know, hyung?’

‘Minseok had every trace of her erased, not a single camera in town had a glimpse of her with you. They might have found our footprints in the sand, but those don’t necessarily lead to her. I suppose they should move on as soon as they come here and realize that we’re nowhere around.’

‘Most likely, but what if-’

‘They can very well catch up to us while we run. Like I said, there isn’t a right answer, but a choice. And I think that you’ve already made it when you should give her a voice, too,’ the leader pushed.

‘I-’ Baekhyun turned away to hide the glassy eyes from Junmyeon. ‘I have to give her a chance, hyung. I cannot sentence her to a lifetime of running and danger. And I know she’s silly enough to throw herself into it if she has a say in this.’

‘And if you’re wrong? You’re going to break her heart as a precaution?’

‘She won’t die from a broken heart. Can you imagine what they’d do to her if they find out?’

Junmyeon bit his lip. This time, the choice was completely out of his hands. He thought his second was making a mistake, but it was not his place to decide. Exhaling again, he nodded.

‘Tell her in the morning. We’re moving out as soon as the rain starts.’

>> Chapter 2

A/N: So, what do you think? This is more of an introductory chapter, I know, but it covers quite a lot of their relationship with Baek. You must be excited to see where this goes and when Baёk appears? Or if Baekhyun is coming back? Me too, me too 🙈

[milaswriting]

I'm really excited for the reveal of ur new wip! I can't wait!! I absolutely adore golden and it has inspired me to create my own if. Your writing is one of the best I've seen and the way you wrote your MC is one of the most realistic and human portrayal of an MC that I've seen on IF. Golden is truly a masterpiece and I cannot express enough how thankful I am that this if exists and for you as an author. I was also wondering if you could perhaps give us some more tiny nuggets about new wip. 👀

I’m crying at this, thank you so much <33 I hope you do write your own wip, definitely go for it!

I’ve been told recently that people like the realism of the MC in Golden and that really means a lot to me, small stuff like that does have a huge difference.

Tiny nuggets of the new wip 👀 I’m planning on making a Patreon this week and bits of the new wip will be available for the ‘silver’ and ‘gold(en)’ tier so I do have to keep everything sealed for those who want to subscribe to my Patreon.

In terms of progress I can give you now: the title has been chosen, the graphics have been made, character sheets for the ROs are done, I’m just over 5,000 words in to writing and I started 2 days ago… there will be a lot of MC customisation too 👀

I think there’ll be a public release for the intro post in about a week or two, and then maybe a call for beta readers if anyone wants to, and then release the actual demo (Patrons will get early access!) and then the demo will be out there - I’m hoping before the end of March.

[srbachchan]

DAY 4822

Jalsa, Mumbai                  May 11,  2021                 Tue 11:09 PM     

Birthday - EF - Deepa Krishna .. Iris -  Israel .. birthday greetings and the wishes for happiness ever .. be safe and protected .. love from the Ef ❤️

So they said you have written too much in the last few daya and  so there has to be a break .. 

Hence .. 

GN

Amitabh Bachchan 

..... but no the night is not inviting .. it sleeps for a while and wakes up .. and opens the mind and the eye to return .. return to the page of the connect for the four thousand two hundred and twenty second day .. propelling thoughts that awake get to testify information that has been questioned .. the search continues and references made be turned through several pages and pages of writing and the title is unfound ..

.. but .. and we seem to love this word ‘but’ .. but what attracts in the reading are the words of Babuji and his poems yes but descriptions and opinions on various topics and issues .. in his life in his philosophy in his belief .. and they are not put down able .. even at 4:10 of the AM of the next May day 12, it seems like an ordinary beginning ..

the absolute delight in the readings of Babuji’s experiences are so endearing that there is a sense of him sitting before me and narrating in his inimitable express of those personal moments .. vivid descriptions of events and happenings .. opinions that formed in those early years seem eternal in their content and longevity .. they prevail even now, his thoughts on contemporaries, colleagues, adversaries, public presents at kavi sammelans - poetic symposiums and the varied incidents - some humorous some distasteful some controversial , but ever ending in either the realisation of fact or misunderstanding of the people around and the organisers by them to him .. 

.. they bring the India of the time right before you .. a vivid describe of time place thought habit and circumstance , in a most academic manner .. well almost ..

.. the vastness of his knowledge , his writing is a monolithic structure of encyclopaedic value .. and as I sit in the quiet of this 2.0 ‘awakened night’ , I am in the guilt of the lack of research that should and should have been done ..

.. i do keep getting various dissertations on the research done by individuals and the efforts they make .. but I feel they are in need of assistance to carry the baton so to say forward ..

.. my uncertainty in its progress is loaded with the immaturity of my administration of how something so vast can be designed in the manner that brings the true value of its vastness .. and I must admit it is most disturbing and frustrating to sit here surrounded by his works and write about it to no avail ..

.. the world and its life is moving at speeds that cannot be imagined .. and before long all that needed reserve and time and think, shall perhaps soon disappear .. disappear without knowing what has been lost and regretfully forgotten .. 

.. generations change .. their likes and dislikes take on fresher and new horizons .. horizons that could have other eclectic thoughts ideas and paths, which could not be interested in the writings of the past .. 

.. I see it happening in our own world where each generation identifies with the present .. the past is past .. irrelevant and perhaps uninteresting .. many of the greats and their works unrecognised and never given attention to .. the talk of them by some of those that have respect for those early times is heard with an unheard surprise .. and that is as long as it stays .. its back to the present and the stage immediate .. what is today , now this very instant , is the refrain ..

.. but it is generational .. we too were the past generation and thought of the present of the time .. today that is the past and does not have meaning and effect for the ‘now’ .. LIFE .. 

.. but yes values and bearings shall prevail when the environ of the ‘being brought up’ draws their attention to certain givings that we surround ourselves in .. and the hope and prayer is that some of its elixir shall be retained, not just for the present but shall be noticed and passed on to the next .. a receipt of which , an invoice that shall have to be paid in full and final in order that the product is delivered and seen that it works to perfection .. and that AMC signed for its maintenance .. 

I write far too much .. 

And here is what justifies the above .. the extended versions of the Blog which many in the Ef perhaps do not desire .. not for any ulterior motive but length and speed and delivery of the today GEN is ‘say it , be brief, and leave ..’ .. most of the time do not even say it , for, we, they say, have our own version and opinion of it ... 

.. done and over ..

SO .. many observe that the comments when it all started on DAY 1 for several DAYS were in the 500 to over a thousand at times and now rest at the very best to around a meagre 100 .. and the conclusion then that the interest in the Blog has wained away and there is need to stop or disappear .. or search for another .. 

.. there is reason in the thinking .. 

.. why remain .. its the same routine over and over again .. what is so endearing or of interest here which cannot be topped in the T the FB and the INsta .. and the values there are different and greatly more exciting ..

.. the religious aspects on the T and the FB get the numbers .. the young their escapades, clothing and opinions get the millions on the INsta .. 

.. so what is this ‘grey’ doing here  ..?

.. a good question for which I have no answer , except that the connect even with the ONE is the draw that I value .. because that is how it all began .. just the 1 (one) response , which then drew more .. 

It is now past 5 am of the 12th of May and a few yawns appear .. which does not necessarily mean that the bed doth invite .. no .. the yawn is the human mechanism inviting the lack of O2 .. I think ..

.. and I am certain that the many scientific minded shall have a million adverse theories to it .. so let me hear them .. !!! 

Alright just did another .. YAWN .. 

I shall leave and perhaps seek the viewing in the recline of the incredible Formula 1 series , which I have to admit has been made with exceptional skill  .. the shot takings the editing the sheer pace of the series and its visuals ..  actually puts you inside those F1 vehicles of spectacular design and performance .. breathtaking  !

be in peace .. be in safety .. be in precaution .. be not lax in discipline .. be in line of protocol and advice ..

.. and be in the love that I hold you in .. ❤️

Amitabh Bachchan ... 🙏🌹

[anonil88]

Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

[felswritingfire]

Hello Fel ☺️

I always wanted to do one of these match-ups so I hope I do it correctly 👏👏🙌

I would love to see who you match me up with in twisted wonderland.

I’m a female who prefers men. I am the shy and introvert type, but with those I am closer with I can open myself up to. I love books, music, and games. I love to cook/bake. I am seen as the motherly type/mom friend. I am empathetic and feel emotions deeply. Acts of service is my love language.

I hope that was done correctly ☺️💗

Thank you Fel 💝

FUBUKKI, YOU'RE DOING GREAT, SWEETIE 💖💕💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Thank you for participating and being such an amazing follower ;0;

Now, with the emotions that I cannot properly express through text- my dear, Fubukki, I ship you with...

Heartslabyul's Vice Dorm Leader himself, Trey Clover!

I'm more than convinced that Trey is attracted to introverts in general, he's so down to earth and more on the introverted side himself, he can't help but be attracted to people who are on the calmer side. So you being an introverted and shy? Oh my lord you have this man's heart in your damn clutches, my dear.

He get's so excited when you start opening up to him- acting a tad goofier, being more loose in how your carry yourself around him- it has the silliest smiles breaking across his face! He can't help it! He'll pull you into the biggest hug and pepper the sweetest kisses on your forehead when it happens! And every time after that, it'll always cause a warm, fuzzy feeling to grow deep in his ribs.

I imagine that he likes to read too, probably something more on the historical fiction side of things, or even some oldies but goodies like The Great Gatsby and Pride and Prejudice. But he'll be so down to read any of your book recommendations to him and will almost instantly check them out when he has the chance. Will 10/10 take the time to turn it into a sort of book date and make little snacks and tea (or your favorite drink) so the two of you can lounge about and read/talk about what's going on in the stories you're reading. Bonus points if it happens to be the same exact book your guys are reading so the two of you can talk about it in real time.

His taste in music might be a little old fashioned, his favorites including Earth, Wind and Fire; The Temptations; Elvis; Prince- he's just an old man in a young person's body tbh. So, feel free to broaden his horizons on music genres! He finds that he really like Ariana Grande- no idea why, he just loves her music (God is a Woman is one of his favorite songs).

His favorite game is the Cooking Mama series and that's it. That's his experience in gaming sjdflkjf. Please show him more games.

If you introduce him to the horror genre, you have the express gift of seeing him jump like three feet in the air with a little yelp at each jump scare. If you have him play Outlast with you he's gonna hold his breath so hard??? Like, that's gonna keep the psychos away jldfkjdsflk (He almost shits himself with the Whistleblower DLC)

DID SOMEONE SAY BAKING DATES??? BECAUSE I THINK SOMEONE SAID BAKING DATES-

Omg, he'll be basically vibrating when he learns that you love to bake/cook- like??? oml?? It's adorable- it's the most excited you've ever seen him when he asks if you want to bake with him!

He'll show you every cheat their is and press sneaky little kisses to your cheeks and boop your nose with flour. He will also have you taste test everything he can let you! If you do any of this to him he will be on cloud 9 and not coming down any time soon.

MOM AND DAD FRIENDS- MOM AND DAD FRIENDS-

The Aduece duo jokingly calls you guys mom and dad. Trey has a spring in his step every time it happens because he's just- ugh- he's just so smitten for you??? He wears the mom and dad couple title with pride.

Acts of service is something the both of you share and Trey may be thrown for a loop when it first happens. He's so used to being the one taking care of the others??? So you going out of your way to make his life easier sends him into a mini spiral for a moment. He gathers himself quickly tho and hugs you again (he loves holding you tbh).

Trey is also a rather empathetic person! The major difference here is that he can ignore those feelings- so certain things he'll turn his cheek to. He finds it rather endearing that you feel emotions so deeply tbh. He's more conservative about his emotions so the fact you can feel them so intimately kind of fascinates him???

Trey is just a dude who's smitten for you and a top tier boyfriend, like holy FUCK-

Thank you for sending in an ask! I hope you like your match up and have a wonderful day/night!

Like my stuff? Consider donating to my Ko-fi!

[soullesscoffee]

men after midnight || part one.

{ poly!the lost boys x fem!reader }

|| part two ||

rating: explicit

word count: 3287

chapter summary: y/n organizes a beach bachelorette party for her best friend. just as the party was getting started it is crashed by a group of punks dressed in leather with big attitudes. y/n is hesitant at first but as the night goes on they are enchanted by their charm.

warning: fem!reader, use of alcohol, use of tobacco, mentions of jealousy, heavy petting, dirty talk, sexual tension, and slow burn.

a/n: i re-listened to the mamma mia sound track and this is what came to my brain. this has not been proof read and i am posting his five hours before i have to go into work, so no sleep for me. but enjoy!

An airy laugh left your lip escaping into the wine glass. The wine swished as your body shook from the brief moment of entertainment. Digging your toes in the cold sand of the night you are kept warm by the bonfire that sat parallel to you. The echoes off laughs surround you as the other members of the bridal party are laughing about themselves as well to the story that the bride, your best friend, was telling,

“No I swear, it was the funniest thing I have ever seen, that poor waiter must’ve been so embarrassed. I tipped him like 25% because I felt so bad!” The bride's words are broken by the laughter that she cannot contain. Her own body leaning back trembling with laughter as she clutched her beer bottle in her left hand. Your eyes admire the glimmer of the rock that sits on her ring finger. Every time your eyes even glanced towards it you felt a pang in your chest. This was your best friend. There is no way you should be hurt, or jealous by it. But why were you? You’re still young, full of life, in need for an adventure. You don’t need to be tied down by a ring and a piece of paper. Titling your head down you glance down at your wine glass and take a deep breath, suddenly no longer laughing like the rest of the group. The voices around you go muffled as you start to think about the wedding that is only weeks away. The duties of being the maid of honor was starting to sit on your shoulders. You were the one to set up a bachelorette party. The bride didn’t want anything special, just a night of hanging out and drinking. Something you two haven’t done since the two of you were in high school. You were cut out of your trance when the girls started to squeal and get up. One of the bridesmaids started to turn up the radio. A chuckle left your nose as the ABBA - Gimmie! Gimmie! Gimmie! starts to blast through the speakers of the large stereo. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you sipped your merlot not paying attention to the women dancing around the fire. It wasn’t until a figure covered your light and warmth from the fire did you look up. The bride, your best friend, Jennifer was standing in front of you. Her white crop top and skirt accompanied with a flower crown was in your presence as she held out an extended hand. “Come on! We used to dance to this song all in the clubs!” She whined, shaking her hand for you to take and presumably dance along with her and the four other girls. You shake your head, “Fine, but you get to pour me another glass after this,” you respond tilting your head back to chug the rest of your wine. As you did so you grasped her hand setting down your empty glass next to the drift wood you sat along.

Standing you could feel the instant rush of the alcohol invade your system making your stomach feel warm and fuzzy. Then your head started to feel light and relieved. You danced along with the other girls as everyone danced along the fire. You stopped dancing around the fire as everyone, including yourself started to sing along to the excitement of the song. 

“There's not a soul out there! No one to hear my prayer!” You belt at the tops of your lungs pausing at different poses to the beat before letting the song drop. You start jumping and laughing, your subconscious being grateful that the beach was practically abandoned for it was nearing midnight. Though the group was a distance away from the boardwalk to not be interrupted by any juvenile attitudes.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight! Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away!” You laugh and grove your hips along with the melody enjoying yourself and getting lost in the music, “Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight! Take me through the darkness to the break of the day!” You start dancing around the fire once more enjoying your time grooving along, not noticing the four figures emerging from the darkness. 

“Well it looks like your prayers have been answered ladies!” A booming voice cracks through your musical hypnotic state. This causes you to jump and a couple of the girls to shriek but laugh it off. You however weren’t laughing. You were quite pissed at the interruption, “Sorry fellas this is a private function!” You holler from afar, the look on your features clearly unamused. Yet you couldn’t help but be amused by the get up of the loud one. His hair tufted into a long blonde straight mullet, donning a fishnet shirt and a blazer with a chain of coins trailing down his chest and safety pins scattered through the fabric. There was only a ripple of giggles and chuckles, but the grip on your arm from the bride was what made you look at her. “Y/N! I think it’ll be fine if these boys join us. I mean look at how cute they are,” she whispers into your ear before biting her lip and clearly eye-fucking the boys. You open your mouth to protest but Jennifer started to pout at you giving you big puppy dog eyes. 

“We’ll be good, Y/N. Won’t we boys?” The one in the front of the semi v formation calls towards you, the sound of your name coming from him causes shivers to go down your spine. You huff and roll your eyes. “Fine, but one funny move and I am kicking all of your asses.” You spat returning towards your piece of the driftwood as the girls started to whisper amongst themselves and started to offer the men drinks. Are they even allowed to drink? You question to yourself before grappling your empty glass from the sand to go fill it up at the drinking station. The girls continue to sing and enjoy their time but your mood has switched a complete 180. As you reach out for the Merlot bottle fingerless gloves grasp it before you can. “Merlot, aren’t you fancy. This isn’t even the cheap shit.” You look up trying to connect the voice to the face. Your eyes met a small face framed by curly long hair and a Cheshire like grin. “Yeah, I should’ve gotten the cheap shit. Sometimes it has a high alcohol content.” You reply with a smirk trying not to be hostile and ruin the mood of the party. 

One of his hands grasped your wrist softly pulling your hand towards his body. The man carefully poured you a decent glass. “The name’s Marko,” he starts before looking you up and down. The action causes you to blush. Marko took a red cup himself and filled it a little bit, “I am guessing your the manager of the function. I hope we can keep you ladies entertained tonight. We did hear your call,” his sly grin grew on his lips. A chuckle left your lips, “I’m pretty sure we were fine on our own. But thank you Marko, if it was up to me you guys wouldn’t be drinking our alcohol and partying.” You reply bluntly sipping your wine, but then the sudden chill causes the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. “Man, this babe is feisty,” the one who interrupted the party in the first place calls from behind you. He places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches over you to grab a red solo cup. Marko poured him some wine as well and smirked towards his friend, “Y’know Paul, it’s not nice to invade the ladies space.” 

The one named Paul snickered from behind her, “I think she’s just fine with it, aren’t you babe?” He asks you with his breath caressing your ear, causing a tingle to form in your brain. You clear your tightening throat to slip from his grip. “Not really,” you admit honestly and he feigned an expression of hurt. “Ouch,” Marko however on the other hand could only laugh at this interaction. You parted yourself from the boys cheering yourself from the two men and sigh to yourself as you trudge back to your bench of driftwood. Once you sit yourself down you watch as the two blondes start to mingle themselves with the girls. They clearly were flirting with all of them, including the bride, she was playing with Marko’s ornate jacket. Twirling the fringes between her fingers and grazing the patches. In reaction you chug the wine out of pure petty anger and lean back to stare into the fire. 

“So who’s the lucky one?” You whip your head behind you to see the platinum blonde standing behind you admiring the crowd along with you. “I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he bluntly states as he pops a cigarette between his pink lips. The first thing you notice is his bright blue eyes that seemingly glowed in the dark. You could only roll your eyes and give a dull chuckle. You lift your left hand, “Clearly. She’s the one in the flower crown. Well the one with the biggest flower crown.” You inform crossing your bare legs over one another. The sudden smell of burning tobacco and nicotine hit your nose, but you try to ignore it. Before you knew it he was sitting beside you. He held the cigarette out towards you between his leather glove clad fingers, your eyes flickering to it before flickering to his. He raises his brows and nudges it towards you, “Thanks,” you mumble plucking it from his fingers and taking a couple of puffs before handing it back to him, “I’m David. I see you have already met Paul and Marko. The brunette is Dwayne. Thank you for letting us join your function.” David snickers, leaning back and letting the smoke come out of his nose. “Well it wasn’t my choice,” you start and David tilts his head towards you in pure curiosity, “Clearly, it’s not your party,” You blink at him as you try to figure out whether his tone was condescending or not. “Yeah, you’re right. Not my party.” You reply by taking another gulp of your wine hoping the farther you got down the glass the quicker time would go by. 

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, and you don’t look like you're having fun at all. At least not like the way you did before,” He notes before inhaling a deep draw from his cigarette. An airy chuckle leaves your lips, “Not really, the party got crashed- Wait, you were watching us?” this time it was David’s turn to chuckle, “We heard the amount of fun and Paul couldn’t resist himself to a party.” You furrow your brows at the reply, “So why did you follow?”

“I can’t say no to a night of fun.” He responds giving you a smirk leaning closer towards you, starting to close the proximity. Heat rises to the tips of your ears and the base of your neck. You try to fool yourself, it's the alcohol. However, you can smell the man’s cologne and musk directly off of him. It was so hypnotizing. Just like his eyes, you tilt your head slightly as he continues to speak, “Have some fun, Y/N.” he states, quipping his index finger under your chin. Suddenly you felt your whole body go numb and your mind go blank.

As the night grew you found yourself getting more comfortable with the punks. You were not in the arms of Dwayne, the two of you swaying back and forth to the music as the other two were dancing with the other girls. David sat chatting with the bride clearly enchanting you with his charisma you picked up on so quickly. You glance over your shoulder to look at David who was talking to the bride, yet as you looked over his piercing blue eyes flicked your way. A sudden sly smirk on his lips left you mouth agape with wonder at what was happening in his eyes. Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen echoes through the night sky. Dwayne however gripped your chin between his thumb and index and pulled your attention to him. His hands rested back on your lower back barely grazing the bare skin under your clipped shirt. “It’s rude to not focus on your dancing partner,” he muses with a charming smirk as he pulls you closer flush to his bare chest. A slight gasp left your lips as the contact surprised you. You swallow and look up into his piercing brown eyes, “I-I’m sorry,” you whisper clearly blushing under the moonlight but was thankful it was dark and farther from the fire. “I was only joking,” he claims before spinning you out and pulling you close once more. Your hands rested awkwardly on his shoulders. Keeping eye contact with you, his fingers grazed your sides, ghosting over your sides as he pulled them up your arms. He formed your hands behind his neck. You couldn’t help but smile at the small gesture as your eyes trail along the painted leopard on his arm. “You’re more relaxed,” he notes and you nod at him, “Yeah, thank you for pulling me away from those two. I thought my brain was going to hemorrhage if I kept talking to them,” You tease about Marko and Paul, to which Dwayne could only chuckle. As the second chorus started to pick up Dwayne settled his leg between yours, “Believe it or not they bring the fun with them,” Dwayne replies, starting to smile as he twists you to where his chest was flush with yours. You freeze for a moment as the chorus builds up, “Yet maybe, we can offer a different kind of fun?” Dwayne whispers in your eyes, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. You instantly felt your cheeks get hot as his large hands travel down your sides to your hips guiding you to sway along with him. You could feel your backside grazing his groin as he pulled you closer with guidance. Your breath started to pick up as your heart raced with anticipation as one of his hands traveled to your navel splaying across only his pinky dipping in your waistband of your denim shorts. Looking up from the sand your eyes connect with David’s who held an intense eye contact with you as you started to feel yourself unravelling. “I asked you a question,” Dwayne whispers once again in your ear trialing his lips down to your neck, long brown hair cascading down your chest. His seemingly chilled lips contrasted against your hot skin. “I- I- don’t-” you choke out as you feel another finger enter your waist band, causing heat to grow at your core. You hand held onto his with a deathly clutch.

You feel his bare chest rumble from a chuckle as he ground himself into you, nipping at the base of your ear. You gasp from the action, a surge of adrenaline rush didn’t make you correlate as Dwayne pulled you back around to only grasp your belt loop and spin you away from him. You land in another person’s arms, you look up to see Paul looking down at you. His handsome smile beaming down at you as he pulls you close. “Finally, I was starting to feel Dwayne was going to keep you all to himself.” He smirks as pulls your waist down, guiding you to dance alone with him, his hips moving seemingly against yours. Your lips parted as your heat grazed for a moment against his thigh, “Why were you starting to get jealous?” You couldn’t help but tease. The tease caused Paul to quirk his brows in surprise but also amusement, “It’s not fair for him to hold someone as fit as you to himself,” he quips pulling your hips down so your core continues to grind on his thigh. A gasp leaves your lips involuntary, “Especially when you gasp like that,” Paul rasped against your parted lips. You head spun with how all of this was happening and how quickly. Heavy pants coming from both parties started to ignite a fire deep within. On instinct you close the gap between his and your lips, engaging in a fiery kiss that took your breath away. As your hands crawled up Paul’s chest to wrap your arms around your neck you feel fingerless gloves graze under your shirt. Then a pressure from behind the culprit you assumed to be Marko pressed amongst you dancing along as well. You part your lips from Paul, hypnotized by ministrations from both of the men.

Marko had both his hands up your cropped shirt gently clawing and pawing at the plush bare skin underneath. “Starting without me?” Marko asks against your shoulder before pressing his lips to your skin. You tense a moment before relaxing into his touch, wrapping an arm behind you to Marko’s neck, drowning in the intoxicating smell of both men’s scents. The grinding and the pressure from both of the men caused you to pant along with the beat. “The fun’s just starting.” Paul purrs as Marko connects his lips to the crook of your neck. The sensation causes a sigh to leave your lips and you loll your head to the side giving him more access to your neck. Marko’s hands trailed down, over Paul’s hands on your hips to your thighs. He even gently grazes his index finger over your zipper before gripping the hem of your denim shorts, digging his nails into your skin as he bites down on your neck with his blunt teeth. You gasp distracted by the excitement to notice Paul leaving your grip. Your hands grip his as your nails dig into his gloves. You close your eyes for a moment letting a sigh float from your lips as he pulls you by your belt loop like Dwayne and spinning you away from him. 

You snap your eyes open to see your hands land on a layer of leather. Your toes touched the tips of boots. You graze your hands to the black t-shirt. Gloved fingers pinch your chin and pull it upwards. You are met by stark blue eyes and a honeyed voice, “Having fun?” David asks, tilting his head down as he waits for your breathless answer. You could only nod as your legs felt like jelly and your head spun at a million miles per house. “Good,” he whispers against your lips, ghosting his breath that had reminisce of cigarette on it. You were in trouble. You thought to yourself. His other hand pulled you close by the small of your back to press against him as he entrapped you in a powerful kiss. You could feel the tip of his nose pressed against your cheekbone. His gloved hand moved from pinching your chin to grasping your neck just below your jaw. His kiss swallows your quiet moment that you tried your hardest to suppress. David pulls away after a moment, his hand still placed under your jaw as he admired your flushed face. You could only admire his face amongst the bonfire that lit his dilated pierced ocean eyes that looked at you as if you were his next meal. A chuckle rumbled through his chest as he looked at your haphazard state. “Are you ready to get your prayers answered?” He questions with a knowing smirk. The only response you can give him was keeping your lips parted as his eyes sunk you deeper in a hypnotic state. You slowly nod as his gloved hand caresses your cheek.