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sweet-s0rr0w · 1 year ago

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Vintage Drarry Fics

Thought I'd put together a list of some of the old Drarry 'classics' of my teenage years, for anyone interested. All posted between 2001-2006, compiled using my (bad) memory, a lot of googling, fanlore.org and numerous different LJ rec accounts (including the incredible @capiturecs). I checked as best I could, but if anyone knows of any fics that their author doesn't want to be shared, please let me know and I will of course remove.

Please also note that these fics are of their era, when attitudes may have been different, and they may not all be grammatically perfect. I haven't reread all, as my own tastes have changed, but most importantly do note that they may not be tagged - don't blame me when, for example, Harry dies tragically on a rooftop at sunrise...

Hogwarts Era (mostly 5th-7th year)

A Thousand Beautiful Things by Duinn Fionn/geoviki (M, 105k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

All Bets Are Off by Allegra (R, 53k)

I am SICK of Good-little-innocent!Harry...Enter Playboy!Harry and his Overinflated Ego, a challenge, a bet, a couple of Really Cunning Plans - and there you have it, "Forty days and forty nights", Hogwarts style. Mayhem ensues!

Angels and Devils by beren (E, 52k)

Harry defeated Voldemort and his act of heroism is famous throughout the wizarding world. He's trying to finish his final year at Hogwarts in peace, but, thanks to the method he chose to destroy The Dark Lord, something peculiar is happening to him, something he never would have expected. It's all rather embarrassing and making his life very complicated.

Artful Facade by Sky Sorceress (T, 66k)

Sometimes you fly too close to the sun and lose your wings. With sixth year approaching, the danger Harry seeks can be found only in the form of Draco Malfoy. What follows is a twist in the line between hatred, love, and need.

Beautiful World by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 70k)

Harry finds out he's going to die on his 16th birthday. He embarks on a journey of self-destructive behaviour and drags Draco along for the ride.

Beneath You by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 113k)

Draco had no idea that the repercussions of stealing Potter's journal and shoving it down the back of his trousers would be so extreme.

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (M, 173k)

It seems 95% of H/D writers feel compelled to write a "Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Unlikely Stuff Happens That Leads To Twoo Wuv" story. Count me among the 95% ;)

Checkmate by Naadi Moonfeather (T, 245k)

Draco has the perfect plan to get Harry Potter and challenges him to a game of Dare Chess. But is it love, or betrayal, he has in mind?

The Cicatrix Cycle by Ivy Blossom (NC-17, long!)

Three parts: Origins, Haven, Belong

Draco In Darkness by Plumeria (T, 41k)

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

Eclipse by PhoenixSong/Mijan (T, 287k)

"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But, when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Friend Like Me by Lady Vader (M, 11k)

Draco's rendition of the love story that never was.

How Harry Potter Got His Groove Back by Durendal/Eleveninches (R, 12k)

Snape tries to hang himself, Draco enters an alternate reality, and Harry Gets a Clue. Humor, SLASH, naughty language, and other Evil Things. Harry/Draco, Snape/James/Lucius.

Irresistible Poison by Rhysenn (PG-13, 124k)

Under the influence of a love potion, Draco learns that poison doesn't always bring death -- there are other ways to suffer and live. Chemical emotion runs feverish as Harry and Draco discover the intoxication of love.

Lettered by pir8fancier (M, 7.8k)

Harry has a secret penpal, whose identity is as plain as the nose on his face. Except he's not wearing his glasses.

Love Under Will by Aja (R, 116k)

In their 5th year, Harry and Draco choose to be with one another; but the story--and the battle-- is just beginning...

playing the game, living the lie by Abaddon (R, 159k)

Set in Sixth Year, both the wizarding and Muggle worlds are threatened as Voldemort plans a final revenge. Past, present and future collide as all must consider where their loyalties lie; who they are, and who they want to be. Amidst it all, Harry and Draco begin a dangerous journey of understanding. Is it possible to leave everything you thought you were behind?

Resolution by Frances Potter (R, 322k)

When you've spent six years fighting evil, all you really want is a quiet time. But when your name is Harry Potter the chances of that are very slim. A series of vignettes chronicling Harry's final six months at Hogwarts. Exams, friends, lovers, Quidditch, the war and Draco all conspire to make the year end seem a very long way away.

Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself by Ari Munami (PG-13, 31k)

Harry goes through some er... changes in his Sixth Year and everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice.

Snakes and Lions by GatewayGirl (M, 139k)

When Ron and Hermione get together, they notice only each other. A nightmare prompts Harry to return alone to the empty Chamber of Secrets, and leads to a new look at an old enemy. Harry enjoys the company, but with Bellatrix Lestrange actively hunting him, how far can he trust a Death Eater's son?

Something Impossible by epicylical/Cassandra Claire (PG, 6.4k)

As punishment for an act of vandalism, Draco is forced to perform three tasks to win Harry's forgiveness - only they don't turn out to be exactly the kind of tasks he'd been expecting. With wet shirtless Draco, paint-covered Harry, and Proust-reading Goyle.

Transformation by amalin (E, 98k)

In Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, he must face the consequences of the attack on the Department of Mysteries and the effects of Voldemort's return. And in doing so, he finds that even your enemies can teach you valuable lessons—about the world, and about yourself.

Walking the Line by SilentAuror (E, 179k)

Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.

Post-Hogwarts

Adagio in G Minor by furiosity (NC-17, 18k)

Seven years after Hogwarts and the war, life continues in the wizarding world. Draco Malfoy is rich, bored, and slightly jaded. Harry Potter is famous, busy, and somewhat disillusioned. They've not seen each other since school ended. What would happen if they were to cross paths again? What if it involved music?

Big Dick, Come Quick [PDF] by Calanthe (NC-17, 204k)

Draco’s got a theory. About sex. And after much searching for the right candidate, it appears that only Harry Potter, his life long enemy, can help him test it out.

Draco's Escort Service by Cheryl Dyson/dysonrules (15, 12k)

Draco's job is to escort travelers through the dangerous, war-torn countryside. Harry Potter is forced to hire him, but his destination isn't quite what Draco expected.

Left My Heart by Emma Grant (E, 85k)

Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him.

Malfoy, P.I. by Nancy (R, 60k)

"I'm Draco Malfoy, private investigator. I've seen a lot--I mean a lot, and I'm like sweet seventeen a lot. I thought I'd seen it all, until a pair of green eyes stepped into my office." A noir AU set in L.A. where passion and magic collide. Slashy and sexy.

Queen of Hearts by scoradh (E, 65k)

A spectre is haunting Harry - the responsibility of his destiny. It looms over his future and, more importantly, over the future of his friends. Harry is determined to exorcise this spectre for the greater good, but on the way, he enters into a few unholy alliances.

Tissue of Silver by fearlessdiva (R, 76k)

A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by November Snowflake (M, 58k)

When the long-missing Draco Malfoy turns up at a Ministry field hospital with amnesia, bitter Auror Harry Potter must confront the shadows of their shared past to shed light on a potentially deadly mystery.

Transfigurations by Resonant (E, 71k)

Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

#drarry #fic recs #vintage drarry fics #loved putting this together #blast from the past

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luminiscented · 3 months ago

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Please can you write part two of the smut with dom Lloyd × sub female reader... Pretty please 🙏🏻

Time well spent pt.2

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Pairing: Lloyd x fem! Reader

Status: Dating

Type: oneshot

Warnings: smut, degradation, doggy style, uuhhh everything

Summary: Part 2 of the previous ask,, Your boyfriend gives you a lesson after you got too handsy with him at dinner,,,

Note: No beta :0. Sorry for the delay!! I've been getting back into Danganronpa, so that's been on my mind a bit more lately :)

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, the metal hurting your wrists. The pressure against your nails from gripping the sheets keeping you to reality as Lloyd's cock hit all the right spots, making your eyes roll back, your drool leaking down your chin, your voice hoarse as he pulled your head up, fisting your hair, making you look at yourself in the mirror on your door as he pounded into you from behind.

Lloyd held you by your waist with his other hand, his fingers leaving bruised into your delicate skin, your flesh already burning from the marks he left on you.

"Just look at this.. still gonna put your hands in my pants during dinner?"

Your throat was hoarse from gasping and whimpering, your thighs were shaking already as you started to reach your second high. Your body was rocking violently from his thrusts, your skin was sticky, your hair was a mess and just to make his payback more interesting you heard your best friend from the other side of the door.

"Hey, girl!"

A shiver ran down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat as you heard Nya's voice from the other side of the wall. Lloyd's cock stilled inside you for a moment. You looked behind you to face him, muttering a small "Please, no.." pleadingly. He started bucking his hips into you silently, reaching down to rub your puckered clit.

"Answer."

"What's up?" You called out to her as you bit down on your lower lip to silence yourself as your boyfriend abused your heat.

The green savior bend down to your ear as you whimpered from anxiety and pleasure.

"Beg me." Beg him to be slow, beg him not to make you cum, beg him not to make you embarrass yourself..

"Skylor called, invited us to go get some drinks. Wanna have a girls night?" She called out excitedly, in the meantime Lloyd was starting to progressively pound harder and harder into you, barely letting you breathe.

"Nya..Well, I-..Lloyd, please..." You whispered the last words desperately.

"Not please, I said beg." You shoved your head in the mattress as he fisted your hair tauntingly. You gripped the sheets, feeling your walls pulse around his member.

"I beg you, I beg you, please-" You whimpered incoherently as your drool soaked the sheets. Your boyfriend's pace slowed down as he yanked you up, sitting on his heels as he bounced you on his cock, placing his hand over your mouth as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

"Fuck this up and you're not getting out of bed any time soon." He whispered huskily into your ear.

"Well? Girl, what's up?" Nya called out again, almost placing her hand on the door handle.

"You go, I'll catch up with you in a few-" a deep thrust cut you off.

"Actually...my throat is kinda itchy.." You muffled the pants with your palm "I don't want you to catch it-" Your cunt was pulsing, squeezing him, your belly was all up in a twist, your thighs were shaking. Your palm was already wet from your breath, tears were prickling in your eyes. You were breaking all around him, it was too much to handle. As you heard her step away from the door, you finally gave in, gave in to the rubbing of your clit, to the throbbing cock that was destroying your insides. You started thrusting your hips back to meet his, the pleasure driving you insane, feeling every little contraction of your heat. You felt yourself reach your peak, coating his member in your sweet juices, feeling him push even harder against you, finishing up inside you shamelessly.

You panted as you leaned against his chest for support, barely able to hold yourself up. You started shakily pulling yourself from his cock, but his hands wrapped around your hips and pulled you back down on top of it.

"You didn't say "please."

#ninjago #lego ninjago #lego ninjago masters of spinjitzu #ninjago x reader #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #lloyd x reader #ninjago lloyd x reader #ninjago smut

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14dayswithyou · 5 months ago

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This Angel has another question! \o (and not just about Conan this time, I promise) As a follow-ish to this post (https://14dayswithyou.tumblr.com/post/698898007154917376/what-would-all-the-other-characters-be-like-if) , what would Kiara, Conan, Jae, and Olivia be like as yanderes?

✦゜ANSWERED: Typing this on my phone so da formatting will be terrible (and not proofread)... Sowwie!! >.<

Kiara... Weirdly enough, I can't see her as a yandere? If anything, she'd be obsessed with the thought of making you her muse; dressing you up in the finest materials, showing you off for the world to see, and revelling in making others jealous because they don't have a model as beautiful as you. She wants her pretty little wife to be plastered on all the front pages of magazines, wearing silk, velvet, and lace, and living the life of luxury that they rightfully deserve — even if it means getting rid of the competition by... alternative means. So long as your hands stay clean and pure, Kiara is willing to do everything she can to make you — and only you — shine the brightest.

Jae would be a yandere with a (non-sexual) owner/pet dynamic. Rather than a boyfriend, he'll see you as his helpless, incompetent pet. He'll keep you locked up in a cage for his own personal enjoyment, and only bring you out to play with whenever he's feeling bored or lonely. But don't worry, Jae would make a great owner! He'll feed you, bathe you, and take care of you with the utmost gentility — but if you bite the hand that feeds you, then he'll lock you away from the rest of the world and keep you there until you start to feel the separation anxiety kick in.

Conan would be very much a Glenn Arias (from RE: Vendetta) kind of yandere, wherein he'd try to make Angel resemble as much of his deceased wife as possible. He'd make them wear her perfume, style their hair and clothes the same way, and copy her speech pattern and mannerisms — all before realising that he genuinely liked them better as they were before he went and destroyed them. Now Angel has Conan in the palm of their hands as he begs and pleads them for forgiveness hehe :3c

Olivia would be your typical obsessive lover who'd follow you anywhere, even in death. Her love for you is so strong that she's willing to look for you in every lifetime... and do whatever it takes to be with you if you don't happen to exist in the same timeline as her. She'll rip apart worlds and shatter reality if it means finding a way to get to her beloved.

There's... actually a lot more going on behind the scenes regarding Olivia and her overall importance (like... no one has questioned the fact that she's the only character who can die on the same day you meet them???? /silly), so I can't really elaborate more on this one ^^;

#💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#💖 — about kiara.#💖 — about jae-hyun.#💖 — about conan.#💖 — about olivia.#💜 — au canon.#hownecromantic

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hotvintagepoll · 9 months ago

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This is a three-way poll. Only one of these women will continue to the fourth round of the bracket.

Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Leonor Maia (The Tyrannical Father)— She didn't do a lot of movies but in The Tyrannical Father she is so pretty and charming that there's a guy who's obsessed with her to such a degree he is still a meme 80 years later. Her character's name is Tatão and the guy would stare at her whenever she was there and say her name to the tune of everything. A clock ticking: ta-tão, ta-tão, ta-tão. And to this day one of the lines people know the best from that very quotable movie is "ta-tão". She inspired crushes and horniness of legendary levels.

Louise Brooks (Pandora's Box, Diary of a Lost Girl)—Louise Brooks started off as a dancer and went to work in the Follies before going to Hollywood. Disappointed with her roles there, she went to Germany and proceeded to make Pandora's Box, the first film to show a lesbian on-screen (not her but one of her many doomed admirers in the film), and Diary of a Lost Girl, both of which are considered two of the greatest films of the 20th century. She helped popularize the bob and natural acting, acting far more subtly than her contemporaries who treated the camera as a stage audience. After the collapse of her film career and a remarkably rough patch as a high-end sex worker, she was rediscovered and did film criticism, notably "Lulu in Hollywood," which Rodger Ebert called "indispensable." Also, christ. Look at her.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

There is no additional propaganda for Leonor Maia.

Louise Brooks:

"Defined the style of the modern flapper. A gaze that could make a stone fall in love."

"Louise Brooks left a legend far greater than her real achievement as an actress, but even today few people have seen her films. In our own time, the fascination with Brooks seems to have begun in 1979 with a profile by Kenneth Tynan in the New Yorker, which revealed that the actress who made her last movie in 1938 was alive and living in Rochester, N.Y. Such was the power of Tynan's prose that people began to seek out her existing films, primarily this one, to discover what the fuss was about. What we see here is a healthy young woman -- she was 23 when the film was released -- with whom the camera, under G.W. Pabst's influence, is fascinated. There is a deep paradox in Brooks and her career: the American girl who found success in the troubled Europe between two wars; the vivid personality who briefly dazzled two continents but faded into obscurity; the liberated woman who had affairs with such prominent men as CBS founder William S. Paley as well as with women including (by her account) Greta Garbo but wound up a solitary recluse. And all of this seems perfectly in keeping with her most celebrated role in Pandora's Box. For despite her bright vitality, her flashing dark eyes and brilliant smile, Brooks's Lulu becomes the ultimate femme fatale, careering her way toward destruction, not only of her lovers but eventually of herself."

"She invented having bangs to indicate that you have borderline personality disorder"

"chances are if youve ever seen a "flapper girl" character or even just art of a generic flapper type made after the 20s it was based on her appearance - particularly the bob hairstyle! she had some pretty rough experiences through her life before during and after her tumultuous acting career which ended in 1938 but she made it to the 80s, wrote an autobiography and did a lot of interviews that she was never afraid of being honest in about her own life or peers of the age, and apparently was unabashed about some affairs she had with well known women (including greta garbo!!)"

"She read Proust and Schopenhauer on set between sets. She was one of the original flappers/new women of the 1920s. She had a one night stand with Garbo and was the inspiration for Sally Bowles in Cabaret. Truly a stone cold fox."

"on her wikipedia page it says her biographer said she "loved women as a homosexual man, rather than as a lesbian, would love them" and while i have no idea if this is true or not i thought that was very gender of her"

"despite being american she was big in german expressionist films and thus her aesthetic was unmatched!!"

So far ahead of her time in regard to portraying complicated women. Timeless elegance. "I learned to act by watching Martha Graham dance, and I learned to dance by watching Charlie Chaplin act.” - Louise Brooks

#leonor maia #louise brooks #ava gardner #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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nkjemisin · 8 months ago

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Hello! I’ve been seeing a lot about your work on social media lately and would love to read your books. What series do you recommend I start with?

Thanks ☺️

That depends on your taste/interest. I don't really write the same kind of thing from series to series, because I get bored easily and often want to try new subgenres/styles/etc. So I'll just briefly list my series and you can pick the one that appeals the most.

There's the Inheritance Trilogy, (link goes to the first book) my first published novels. A secondary world that has enslaved its own gods deals with the repercussions of that, from the POVs of three mortals. There's an overarching plot arc for all three books -- and there are some side-stories for this trilogy, too -- but each has a different narrator and takes place at different times. First person past tense, if you care about that sort of thing. (I don't, but some people seem weirdly attached to/repulsed by particular persons/tenses, so I'm including that info here.)

Then there's the Dreamblood Duology, which were actually written before the Inheritance books but I couldn't get them published at first because publishing in the 2000s was hella racist, basically. (I know, it hasn't changed much... but that little bit of change was enough for me to break in.) These books are as close to traditional fantasy as I'm probably ever going to get, except that they take place in faux ancient Egypt instead of faux medieval Europe. The story follows priests of the dream goddess as they're forced to deal with a conspiracy that threatens to inflict horrors on their society. Third person past tense for both books.

Next up is the Broken Earth trilogy. That's my experimental one, with first, second, and third-person POVs, present tense, a completely non-Earth world, and some heavy themes. All three books form a single story spanning, oh, forty thousand years or so, but mostly they're centered on one incredibly angry middle-aged mother who is on a roaring rampage of revenge/revolution. Features earthbenders, anti-magic groomers, magic statue people, and the apocalypse (again). Lots of "dark" themes and horror moments (harm to children, systemic bigotry, people-eating bugs, more).

My most recent books are the Great Cities duology. Urban fantasy set in modern-day New York, third person multiple POV ensemble cast. Turns out cities come to life once they hit a certain point, and then they claim a human avatar to represent and protect them. New York turns out to have six. It's also got some very unwanted tourists in the form of Lovecraftian entities that are trying to destroy it, along with reality as we know it. I meant for these to be lighthearted and silly and I think they kind of are, but there are still some notable political elements in them. (I mean, it's set in modern-day New York, and I started them the year Trump got elected, so...) It's lighthearted for me, anyway.

So, pick your poison!

#answered asks

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biancadoes1 · 16 days ago

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I know you won’t post this because it goes against your narrative, but I hope you do.

It’s time for a serious conversation about what’s happening in this fandom. The people who genuinely believe Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton are together—known as “Lukola”—need to take a closer look at the history of fandoms like the Larry Shippers. These were fans who convinced themselves that Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were secretly in a relationship, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. If you dive into the Larry conspiracies, babygate, and how fans clung to fabricated narratives, you’ll see the same patterns playing out here. It wasn’t healthy then, and it isn’t healthy now. The result? Harry and Louis haven’t been seen together in years. Larry wasn’t real, Freddie is, and that fandom destroyed what was once a visible friendship.

The same thing is happening with Nicola and Luke.

Let’s be honest: Nicola has been very loud without explicitly saying who she’s in a relationship with. And yet, if you’ve been paying attention, it’s obvious—she’s with JD, not Luke. She’s been putting that information out there through actions, pictures, and subtle hints. But instead of acknowledging the truth, some fans go to great lengths to ignore what’s right in front of them. You tell yourselves, “She’s just friends with JD,” “That doesn’t mean anything,” or even “JD is gay; his friends call him princess.” Meanwhile, you cling to tiny crumbs—brief moments with Luke that you inflate into something bigger. At this point, it’s not wishful thinking; it’s willful denial.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: Nicola isn’t blameless in all this. She’s not the perfect, untouchable person you’ve made her out to be. She knows exactly what she’s doing. By staying vague, she lets fans run wild with their fantasies while carefully dropping just enough hints about her real relationship to maintain plausible deniability. This is gaslighting. She’s playing both sides, benefiting from the attention and adoration of fans who want her with Luke while still being public enough about her relationship with JD to avoid outright lying. This isn’t just frustrating—it’s damaging, both to the fandom and to the relationships you claim to support.

Look at what happened with Harry and Louis. The obsessive shipping culture made it impossible for people to appreciate their friendship for what it was. Fans pushed so hard that now they’re hardly ever seen together. The same thing could happen here. The more you push Nicola and Luke as a couple, the harder it will be to just enjoy their friendship—or anything they might share publicly in the future.

At some point, you have to ask yourselves: Why are you okay with this? Why are you settling for crumbs? Why inflate a ring or a fleeting moment into an entire narrative? And if Nicola were posting pictures with Luke or being photographed with him more often, would that be the confirmation you’re desperate for? What happens when Nicola gets engaged—or has a child? (She’s closer to 40 now; watch it happen.) Are you still going to cling to these crumbs and invent excuses to deny the obvious?

This fandom is starting to mirror an unhealthy, even abusive dynamic. You’re holding onto a fantasy while ignoring the reality Nicola is presenting. It’s time to step back and see this for what it is. Living in a world of denial isn’t good for you—or for the people you claim to support. Stop settling for crumbs. Stop ignoring the truth. Start expecting better—for yourselves, and for this fandom.

To be clear, I don't NOT post asks that go against my narrative but a lot of asks I get like this are half-assed uncooked, unseasoned chicken compared to a well planned out post like this.

But I absolutely disagree with everything you're saying.

It also depends on how YOU are personally perceiving the fandom and fandom spaces like this. It's likely this kind of speculation makes YOU personally uncomfortable, and if that's the case anon, maybe YOU shouldn't be going on to shipper's pages and dropping your opinion to let us know how bothered YOU are by these things.

If you really want to look at harmful behavior, let's talk about the Jakola shipper that showed up to the theatre in NYC and followed Nic and Jake down the street to get proof of their "relationship".

THAT is dangerous.

People like me on the internet, speculating about these things aren't harming anyone. We're talking and theorizing amongst ourselves in a relatively quiet part of the internet. We're not showing up at locations to prove their together.

We're not actively following these people around London or visiting their apartment buildings or homes to prove we're right.

I think you thought you ate with this ask, anon, but you just showed your ass to everyone on this platform.

It's people like YOU coming on to pages like this, calling us delusional or telling us we're in denial because we're looking deeper beyond what tabloid gossip rag are shoving at us. We don't look at you and point the finger for anything because we don't care what you think about us.

YOU can believe the Daily Mail all you want. I chose to look at what Nicola has been doing this entire time.

Move along now.

#lukola

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venomous-qwille · 1 year ago

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Can you please just tell us what is wrong with ai and why, I can't find anything from actual industry artists ect online through Google just tech bro type articles. All the tech articles are saying it's a good thing, and every pro I follow refuses to explain how or why it's bad. How am I supposed to know something if nobody will teach me and I can't find it myself

I'll start by saying that the reason pro artists are refusing to answer questions about this is because they are tired. Like, I dont know if anyone actually understands just how exhausting it is to have to justify over and over again why the tech companies that are stealing your work and actively seeking to destroy your craft are 'bad, actually'.

I originally wrote a very longform reply to this ask, but in classic tumblr style the whole thing got eaten, so. I do not have the spoons to rewrite all that shit. Here are some of the sources I linked, I particularly recommend stable diffusion litigation for a thorough breakdown of exactly how generative tools work and why that is theft.

youtube

or this video if you are feeling lazy and only want the art-side opening statements:

Everytime you feed someone's work- their art, their writing, their likeness- into Midjourney or Dall-E or Chat GPT you are feeding this monster.

Go forth and educate yourself.

#ai art #asks answered #qwillechatter #for real though guys please dont interact with me about AI #I intended for this to be the last post I'll ever make about it #but tumblr ate it so you miss out on the nice essay #all the sources tell you everything you need to know #Im so fucking tired

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female-hysterics · 8 months ago

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Stormkobra-5 asked:

sets food down carefully* Fuck or die scenario, you say?!?!

Okay, picture THIS!!!

You and Steven have been been crushing on each other for MONTHS, okay??? And neither of you have made a move yet because you’re both Shy As Fuck™️ or smth, and you end up trapped in some ancient Greek tomb on a mission— my nerd brain is thinking of stories where stuff like this actually happened in some myths I can’t remember which ones atm but— after decoding the inscriptions on the temple that state the victims must either consummate OR get crushed by a ceiling of spikes that descends if they don’t within like an hour or two or smth 🙂🙂🙂 Indiana Jones style traps I guess XD

IDK I haven’t thought of any actual scenarios tbh just the PORN—

Alternatively, I offer you Steven trying an aphrodisiac and he turns into a total dom, and I’ll leave your imagination to run wild 😈😈😈

Oh jeez... 🥵 I honestly don't know which one I like better.....🥴

Dom Steven has my heart SO

Steven taking the aphrodisiac innocently, not realizing what it is, and by the time you do realize what it is he is gone. His eyes are both soft with adoration and burning with pure lust while his hands effortlessly strip you of your panties and yank your shirt and bra down enough to free your breasts.

"I just have to feel you, love. Let me just come inside your tight little cunt, take the edge off, yeah?, and then I'll fuck your throat like a good girl," he all but growls in your ear while bending you over his desk, sending a small tower of his books toppling over, and your head is spinning at his words and you are positively dripping for him.

He does exactly that, fucking you deep and hard until you are seeing stars until he spills inside you with a hurt sound deep in his chest, and then you are on your knees with his hands fisted in your hair and his cock buried in your throat while you drool and choke and moan his name. Steven seems to twist you in every position possible, even some that leave you flushing in embarrassment, but he is ravenous for you. His touch desperate, words filthy as he grunts them into your flesh, and you can't help but notice how hot his skin is. How his hands tremble against you, how his eyes are glazed, and this heart is fluttering like a hummingbird in his chest. You are worried for him, but with each orgasm he drags from you your brain become more and more fried.

Everything eventually becomes a blur at one point and you are lost in a sea of heat and euphoria. When you come back to reality you are a sticky naked mess, body limp and laying sideways on the destroyed bed with Steven curled up behind you, and you dimly realize that he was still holding himself inside you. His breathing was even, skin cooled down to a more reasonable temperature, and his heartbeat is a strong steady beat.

"Was a bit rough, wasn't I?" He suddenly whispered against your shoulder and your throat is raw as you try to croak out a response.

You feel him twitch inside you and then he slowly starts to roll his hips in slow sensual waves that make your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves up from where it was resting on your breast and curls around your throat gently, tilting your head back until you could pant against his open mouth, and you didn't even have the energy to grasp at his arms as his hips continued to snap against you deep and slow. He groaned against your lips.

"A little longer, love. Let me fill you just a little longer."

#Steven Grant #Moon Knight #marvel cinematic universe #steven grant headcanons #steven grant x reader #oscar isaac headcanons #oscar isaac x reader #Oscar Isaac #the void answers

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mondo-tastic · 13 days ago

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Don't get me wrong I love tragic villains and I love seeing people's different interpretations of characters but in my heart turbo is just a self absorbed angry little cunt and that's all there is to him and I love him for it

all he cares about is winning and attention because he believes that he deserves it because he is the greatest racer ever. no one should have the attention on them because he believes he is the best. and if he has to get people's games unplugged, killing them in the process, or destroy other's lives then oh well he doesn't care.

in fact I think he REVELS in it. he loves the whole idea of masquerading as king candy and manipulating people. like he did ralph. that manipulation came from a place of pure evil and the way he twists the truth like that ..oughhh...solely because he thinks he is the best and he should own sugar rush

the way a slight smirk tugs at his lips as he's saying "you're not going turbo, are you?"

the way his code box is so huge and disorganised. its his ego. but it's also the fact he's not some master programmer. canonly he hid away in GCS and taught himself how to code.

also can we discuss how terrifying the idea is of a video game character learning to code is??? like to other game characters they can just manipulate the fabric of reality??? that's actually scary??? that's like someone coming up to you being like oh yeah I know uhhh quantum physics. I can just. change your genome sequencing if I want to. and give myself any physical attributes I want. while circling through 30 different hair styles.

I love all the interpretations of him but I love to think there's not really any hidden self hatred or inferiority behind his ego, he's just a self absorbed evil piece of shit and I love it

#me rambling #again #wreck it ralph turbo #turbo wreck it ralph #wreck it ralph #wir #turbo wir

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hrmnrmpfh · 9 months ago

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Sinner! Adam is the first person to not mistake Alastor for a deer, change my mind

Adam: the fuck are you losers doing?

Angel: me ’n Charlie wanna know if playing deer alarm calls will make Bambi freak out

Adam: you’re wasting your time

Charlie: it’s worth a shot, and this could help us get to know Alastor better!

Adam: like, do whatever, I don’t give a shit, but at least do something relevant to elk or shit won’t happen

Charlie: that’s what we’re doing?

Adam: he’s an elk, bitch, not a deer, so deer calls won’t work

Angel, scoffing: yeah, ’cuz you’d know more about Alastor in six days than us in six months

Adam: uh, I fuckin’ would know! I named the animals, course I know the differences between ’em. That red edgelord is an elk!

Alastor, appearing behind Adam: *sips Zestial-style out of his ‘oh deer’ mug like the pun negates Adam’s point*

Adam, visibly unimpressed: *plays an elk bugle*

Alastor, becoming rapidly less congruent with reality as he grows building sized: *destroys a wall and loses his entire shit in a show of power that would scare Lucifer*

Adam, who fears not even God himself: ha! I was fucking right! Dick-fucking-master! Hey, why are you two running away? Sore losers!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel memes #hazbin hotel incorrect quotes #incorrect hazbin hotel quotes #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #who’s hoof prints and antlers and sounds all match an elk more than a deer #sinner adam

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hwaightme · 11 months ago

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Burning

(masterlist) (taglist)

🔥 pairing: best friend!mingi x gn!reader 🔥 genre: fluff, healing, friends to lovers, slice of life 🔥 summary: down winding roads, through the golden fields and into the shimmering night, you and mingi embark on a journey to live and love once again 🔥 wordcount: 5.5k 🔥 warnings/tags: editing??, language, indie film style, loosely inspired by murakami's 'barn burning' + youth mv, injuries/scabs, band aids/treatment, escapism, restarts, running away, love through hardship, healing, implied trauma, food/eating, reflecting on the past, mingi would do anything for you, arson 🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🔥 a/n: happy birthday to @byuntrash101!! my most wonderful cat, i love you, thank you for every moment and here is to many more <3 hugs to everyone, all reblogs, notes and comments appreciated! 🔥 playlist: the last stop of our pain - hanroro, the setting sun - the poles, bye - car the garden, summer night - jeon jinhee, 14:30 - damons year, silence - sunwoojunga, so life goes on - heo hoy kyung, dear my all - mingginyu

You looked down at your hands, spreading the fingers out and relaxing them again, watching the movement of every line and wrinkle. Band aids bent and took on the shape you commanded; the one in an off-white shade after having taken on the brunt of the physical burdens, - a ring that was wrapped around the middle finger of your right hand was frayed at the edge, having had to through the test of the elements and of haphazard lugging of items in and out of the white car on which you were sitting. The other, skin toned, sturdy and strictly not letting anything dare infect you, hugged the side of the same hand and spread a little to your palm. The markings of a person who ‘could’, and a person who ‘did’.

Gaze travelling downwards led you to a leather bracelet with a silver charm - a simple accessory, but one that held years of history, meaning and memories that tied you to the original owner. You were never one for big celebrations, having gotten used to treating every day the same as the rest - a uniform, dark reality where you were nothing but a little cog. The only mission you had ever had before this moment was to keep on turning. This bracelet was a promise, and a hope for a new beginning.

Golden fields and a warm grey sky blending into a hazy blend of yellowish green and burnt sienna. A tired breeze that had long lost its fight reminded you that you could still feel, running through your hair, dancing across your skin. The sweater you had borrowed was much too loose at the shoulders, and thus offered little to no protection from the elements. Nonetheless, the comfort it offered, along with the aroma that had permanently intertwined with the threads of the cotton fabric brought more than enough warmth to your heart, and caused a blush to rise on your cheeks. It was a considerable contrast to your still slightly tear-stained, exhausted eyes around which the signs of last night’s terrors were still remaining. But even then, the despair that had come with the sensation had been washed away by a caring thumb, a loving hand, a single impression that solidified that you were never going to be alone.

You moved to run a finger across the plasters, curious as to how the cuts beneath were healing. Little scars of a warrior. You had fought for your way and for your life and for your right to smile and breathe and enjoy the earthly wonders. The last days before your final decision to escape were somewhat of a whirlwind, tainted by persistent insomnia, demons that haunted you day and night and the yelling of far too many people, projects and parasitic ponderings. Even the things that had been under your control grew minds of their own and searched for ways to destroy you, be it in hiding a mistake in a word, an error in a table or a fiendish administrative problem. Those days were a countdown, until in one last effort to survive, you cried out for salvation and admitted that it was all too much. And in that chaotic flood that was threatening to swallow you whole, one person had been waiting, and before you knew it, you were safe, had someone cheering for you, sharing your anguish.

“Hey don’t do that. We don’t have any band aids left and I’m not about to go Rambo mode and go picking grass to wrap you up,” you turned to follow the sounds of the low, raspy voice, smiling softly as you met your friend’s mildly concerned expression. Black hair, softly tousled; you barely could restrain yourself from reaching out and ruffling those locks. Beauty marks like stars on that wonderful, charming face. Slightly parted lips that appeared to be holding back sagas and everlasting tales. Lips that you could watch move forever.

“It’s fine, Mingi, I was just checking.”

“That was some intense checking you’re doing, refrain from it,” he retorted and crossed his arms while pinching the sleeves of his black knit sweater so as to not let them slide up.

“Says the person who keeps picking at their face like no tomorrow. Without bandages, mind you. At this rate-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll sort myself out, alright?” Mingi winced as his tongue darted to the scabbed over gash on the side of his mouth, making you exhale sharply, bemused. You could sense him taking his words back with a shake of the head. One step back, another, and in a quiet mumble he added: “...at the next rest stop we’ll fuel up the truck, fuel ourselves and maybe get a proper first aid kit.”

“Sounds good.”

Turning one of the many rings on his fingers, your friend could not hold your gaze and resorted to studying the ornate silver patterns and precious embedded stones. It had been the same when he had first offered this way out for you. A man, supposedly tall and impressive in physique, but appearing so small as he stumbled over his words, one idea pouring and drowning another out until they connected like a puzzle and formulated a vision that was somewhat concrete. Though, even if there was no final agreement in his mind, you would have agreed anyway. All that mattered was that each sentence carried a ‘we’. And with that, you were more than happy.

Was it long ago that you had met him? It felt like eternity. You could not imagine any other life, at least not one where you had a chance at happiness. Sure, you had your fights and squabbles. It would be a big lie if you were to say everything was sunshine and rainbows. Both snappy and hot headed at times, you had each said a fair share of things you did not want to say. But it was the awareness and growing from mistakes that had led you to where you were now. You had both walked through some dark times, and ended up in the golden hour, surrounded by an equally glowing expanse of flora, reaping what you two had sowed.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t get it, I know I have the thing on my cheek but… hate to break it to you, you don’t have healing powers,” ever so logical, Mingi was, once again, trying to establish a chain of thought. You had gotten better at explaining your thinking out loud, as did he, but in times where you were particularly wistful, words escaped you.

“I don’t know…”

“As if I do. Are you hungry?”

“I’m not a cat-”

“Then why?” he chuckled, lips automatically stretching into a toothy grin as you chuckled.

“‘Cause I can.”

“Okay then,” a breath escaped you as you stared at his hand, suddenly falling to meet the car’s surface and looked up to see him leaning over, staring intently at you. Through you. Like he could read you. Any courage you had disappeared, and you shook your head in defeat.

“Fine, fine,” how could someone put into words the feeling of wanting to picture an individual in everything and everyone?

How could you say that even in the grass that surrounded you, in the long winding roads, in the cloudy skies you were glad to be able to see Mingi. It had been a lifetime indeed. A lifetime of seeing him without realising it, a lifetime of looking forward to being together with him and falling apart when you weren’t, and now, when you were side by side with only the sun, moon and empty fields to bear witness, you were scared to blink. Like all this time would disappear. Priceless seconds. Mingi was merciful enough to note a tinge of nervousness, and backed away. It was obvious enough that he did not quite let your reaction go, but neither you nor him were ever ones to push further than necessary and beyond the other’s personal limits.

“Right, time to get going if we want to make it to the barn by midnight.”

“Okay.”

“Want to ride in the back or-”

“With you,” you did not mean to sound so ambiguous, but thankfully as Mingi was busy opening the door to the driver’s seat, he did not catch on, or courteously did not pry.

“Ah, you’re right. It’ll be getting cold pretty quickly, won’t it?”

As if you were not wrapped up and huddled in the bunch of blankets, backpacks and crocheted pillows just last night when you were parked at the last rest stop, silently accepting your friend’s reassurance as you mourned a past you were not going to miss. He knew what you were going through, and so he stuck beside you instead of heading for those plasters when he technically could have.

“A few hours won’t change these little cuts, but they can change you, and I’d rather be here so you’re not alone.”

The phrase resonated in your heart as you took your place beside Mingi, staring out at the windshield. With a quick glance to your left you could just catch his reflection in the glass, and with another tilt, the man himself. His plush lips, the beautiful curve of his nose, how the black-framed glasses that he had fished out of the cupholder between you suited him so well. Focused, he turned the key until a satisfying rumble consumed the vehicle, signifying its awakening. On instinct, Mingi’s arms flew to their respective positions, and he drove out of the improvised parking spot back out to the infinite line of cement - the one sign of civilization that had the ability to assure you that you were indeed going in the right direction. Since Mingi was familiar with this part of the country, however, you would not have minded even a sudden, more wild change in the scenery.

Choosing to not surf the radio stations in search of something remotely tolerable, you drove to the sound of your musings and let the last of the grey haze wash over you before the sun that was concealed by the thick cloud would inevitably fall into a slumber. For the first time in a while, you could enjoy the quiet without it being interrupted by a cacophony of inner qualms and disturbing rage. You could catch the occasional note from Mingi’s humming - a habit of his that you had grown to love. Every time, it was something unexpected. Be it a tune he was making up on the spot or one that you were familiar with, you never tired of how his thoughts travelled, and were delighted by the soundtrack which he was subconsciously crafting for the life you just so happened to share. Serendipity, writing a future that Mingi was taking you towards.

The idea he had proposed might have been radical, but it was the only one that made sense. Besides, it was not going to cause any harm. At the end of the day, the property belonged to a distant relative, said relative had no use for it, so… the conclusion and final decision basically made itself. The act to mark an entry into being your new self had to be grand, a lot more grand than what you had already done, and Mingi, being a creative mind, of course could be trusted to invent a performance of the century. Just for you.

A dreamlike day turned into an equally surreal evening as you halted at the gas station attached to the last rest stop of your adventure, with Mingi’s call dragging you out of your thoughts. You confirmed to him that you were fine with a quick smile and followed him out of the trusty Dodge. Patiently, you idled about as Mingi unscrewed the opening to the fuel tank and reached for one of the nozzles, rolling a stray piece of gravel under your shoes. Crickets, a myriad of crickets hidden under the cover of nighttime launched into a crescendo of their trill song, so much so that the buzz of the fluorescent lamp that illuminated the lonely station was almost completely drowned out. A light touch on your upper arm alerted you that Mingi was done, and you promptly followed him to the convenience store.

As though by newly found habit, he gravitated towards the bright red canisters lined up by the register, while you gave him a wary glance before ambling towards the ready to eat meals. Soon enough, Mingi joined you, satisfied by his quick perusal, and with a basket in his hand. Without a word, he picked up your favourite snack and was about to toss it in:

“This one, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

It never failed to be amusing how, despite the innumerable occasions when you two had eaten together, Mingi still liked to check with you that your favourite foods were, in fact, still your favourite foods. You had to admit that it was very endearing and comforting to you. Without even considering it, he always gave you room for change, in every way you could imagine. Or maybe you were exaggerating and letting your fantasies speak for themselves. You could not help but dart your eyes at Mingi when he turned his back to you, spotting the two beaded necklaces you had made for him some time ago still being a part of his usual outfit. And so, you wondered, how large was the room for transformation? What could this brand new future of yours include?

“Ah… wait… band aids… should we get that… What was it? Antiseptic-”

“You said a whole kit.”

“Right. Let’s go try and find it… wait what if they don’t stock one?” eyebrows weighed down with doubt, Mingi looked at you like he was about to apologise. You sighed, moving to run a hand down his back. The gesture startled Mingi, but he did not stop you, instead choosing to wait it out and see your intentions. You noticed him lightly biting his lower lip as he stared back at you, perplexed.

“We’ll find the essentials then. It’s not like we are disappearing from society for the rest of time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” had he continued, you swore he would have expressed his wish for what you had joked about to be the case. Luckily, you were pleasantly surprised by the wide selection of items to pick from, and left confident in the remainder of your trip.

In the fluorescence of the small store, and then inside of the parked car as you devoured your pre-made dinner, you were suspended in pure bliss. To your right was your partner in everything, friend or however your silly racing heart wanted to call him. Above you, the stars - a vista worth driving further out from the rest stop for. Propped up on the cushions, this was your definition of heavenly and healing. Colours had regained their vibrancy, and finally, you were no longer too fatigued to notice the intricacy of things that had previously passed you by. Who could have guessed that the packaging of the sandwiches you used to buy before work to throw in the office fridge had changed? And apparently a bit of time ago, too? What else have you been missing? For certain, you had been missing out on times like this, where you could hold a comfortable pause with Mingi, simply enjoying each other’s company while digging into your meals. It was astonishing to think how many breakfasts, lunches and dinners that you could have had with the one person who always believed in you were ripped away from you by obligation and unwanted routine. Not for longer.

“Mingi.”

“Hm?” he hummed while chewing, eyes widened as he turned towards you. Quickly enough, he swallowed the bite, and waited for you to continue.

“I’m glad… that we can be here like this.”

“Oh… I…” at a loss for words, he let himself swim in your spontaneous confession.

“I am just… happy. Very happy. Thank you. Thank you for being the one who I can trust, thank you for sticking with me through complete and utter chaos, thank you for being you,” the words came naturally, buried under layers of hurt that needed time to evaporate. But now, the ritualistic expedition was wondrous in combating your inner demons, and in turn, let you speak for yourself, for your own feelings rather than those of illusory authority that had previously spoken for and was in charge of your every action, whether you were aware of it or not.

“No biggie. Things get in the way sometimes, but we’re here now, aren’t we?”

“Yes, that we are.”

“It’s going to get even easier soon, just you wait.”

A hand in midair, waiting for you to lift yours and meet it. Confused, you did so automatically, yelping when Mingi moved it closer to himself, and in a swift motion planted a soft, almost shy kiss on the back. He was careful to not put any pressure on the cuts which he had just re-cleaned and covered, along with the miniature wounds that only found themselves under the stinging alcohol solution, but kept on holding onto you, debating whether you would let him stay like this to his heart’s content, or if you would pull away. The tips of his digits reached the bracelet, and you could imagine a thrum of kindred energy reconnecting the item and the man. Shock prevented you from acting rashly, and so you simply read the fire in Mingi’s sparkling eyes, your favourite blaze that helped you out of a chasm, one that you would protect with your entire being until the world collapsed on you. And even then, you would stand up and try again.

Relief was evident in his features, from the curling of his lips to the relaxing of his shoulders. Clearly, an unfathomable pressure was lifted from his exhausted body. Every mile travelled, you were making revelations, it seemed. Venturing into the unknown, you were not quite sure who you were looking at anymore. Of course, you were confident in his name, in his presence, in his significance, but the many roles which he played in your years on this tiny planet left you struggling for words. Who was Mingi to you? Who were you to Mingi? Long gone were the days where you two had been moderately content with a distant and rapidly cooling friendship separated by glass and busy schedules. You were close. So close, that if the recklessness of acting on instinct caught up with you, you would get burned.

Burning, like your hand despite Mingi having let it float in solitude some time ago to stand up and hop out of the back of the pickup truck. Set ablaze like your heart and soul that were feverishly awaiting a shining dawn. Your tired eyes could only watch your one wish turn the key in the ignition again, determined to help you start over. Could he be your sun? If you were to say anything more than a hollow whisper to the moon, would you fall away and lose him? You were about to bring the fingers of your left hand to run over the other, but you stopped, remembering Mingi’s comedically stern words. Instead, you imagined him pressing his lips against it again, heat rising to your cheeks upon recollection. A quick glance to the driver’s seat, and you could swear you caught the ghost of a smirk dancing across your so-called friend’s face, but chose not to comment so as to not spark a conversation you knew you would not be able to continue.

“We’ll be there soon. There’s a neat shortcut we can take so it shouldn’t take us more than an hour.”

You nodded, trusting his judgement. Your thoughts were elsewhere, anyways and could not offer many suggestions in terms of the journey. These parts were foreign to you, and your decision-making here was as good as whenever you had a professional point to prove or a dream to follow; both flew out of your hands to be smited. At least in the case of the meandering roads, you had Mingi to shield you, letting you wander in your own mindscape for as long as you needed. The mind was a mysterious place, traversing memories both from years ago and ones that documented your most recent escapades much the same, though, maybe now they were all in brighter hues. The last of what was tying you down was packed and stashed right behind you and Mingi, both in the tiny space between the seats and the back of the cabin as well as in the exposed trunk outside. The monochrome madness stuffed into rucksacks, swaddled in sheets like a crying infant manifesting your prayers for the noise of a prior existence to cease demanding your attention. You were ready to let it all turn to ash, and be reborn.

It was fascinating how quick Mingi was to jump into action. Part of you wondered whether it was due to the times you had helped him, and he wished to somehow repay you. Or was this a genuine devotion? As the road turned into an unruly dirt path, you were certain it was the latter.

‘It’s our journey. I might not know everything that’s going on behind your forehead, and you would not know that about me, but the least we can do is stick through the worst storms.’

The grumbling of the engine turned into a roar as Mingi’s heavy combat boot pushed down even stronger on the accelerator. When people spent enough time together, they were bound to become more and more similar; such was the case with you and him. Parts had been exchanged, parts blended, and it was hard to think of a picture where there was a lack of the other’s presence in some form. Be it in behaviour or in little bits of jewellery. Mingi was driving selfishly, because he was driving for you and for the few breaths of air you had remaining in your lungs after holding up boulders of others’ opportunities at the cost of your own passions. There was experience, there was development, but there was also a need for self-preservation and a necessity to stop for the sake of health and mental clarity, and Mingi was not about to lose you.

“D’ya want to roll the window down? You…” used to do that when you and him were teens. He did not have to say it. No matter the weather, even if for a few seconds, you wanted to be one with the air, a flightless bird that finally got a chance to glide with the wind, pleasantly lost in the elements. Maybe one day you could return to that same carefree nature. You shook your head.

“It’s a little cold outside.”

“How about this…” while slowing down a little to not lose control of the car, Mingi reached around and behind his seat, fishing for something. Finally, having found what he was looking for, he flashed a triumphant grin and produced his dark grey denim jacket, letting it land on your lap.

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what your friend was implying. But as soon as the first hint of a breeze hit you and you saw the window start its slow descent under Mingi’s command, a chuckle escaped you. So it was not a question after all, but an encouragement, perhaps even a challenge. Giving in, you pulled the jacket over yourself like a blanket, and stared at the all-knowing constellations that decorated the cosmic expanse - the best reminder of just how small you really were, and to what priceless insignificance your troubles amounted to. In the grand scheme of things, nothing really mattered, and so, you did not see anything as ‘too out of pocket’ anymore. Might as well enjoy life instead of letting it race past you for once.

It was a mystery to you when you fell asleep; you could only recall the ghostly pale silver and ashen blue that spread over the wheat fields and another serene, barely audible serenade hummed by Mingi. But just as quickly as you had drifted into a dreamless slumber, you jolted awake at the sound of your name being repeated once, twice by your best friend. Momentarily lost, you waited for your vision to focus before following the sounds of the truck door clicking shut and of rubber soles hitting gravel by fumbling for the handle. As soon as you opened the salon, you were embraced in full by the omnipresent hum of wildlife and distant rustle of leaves and tall grass, the field at which you stopped having been long abandoned and left barren, with only dirt to present as a fruit of labour.

Stepping onto the soft earth, you could feel the cool dampness beneath your shoes, a tactile reminder of the quiet countryside that surrounded you as far as the eye could see. Mingi, his presence like a comforting shield in the stillness of the night, paused in his search for the tools he had packed. A profound hush settled over the landscape, prompting you to tilt your head and look on further, to spot the target barely a couple hundred metres away. So this was it. The promised sacrifice. The place where the past could finally quit holding on to you and tearing you apart. The abandoned barn loomed ahead like a relic from another universe and a time long gone.

The moonlight painted the barn in ethereal shades, casting a melancholic beauty upon its worn facade. Mingi's eyes held the weight of a thousand untold stories and observations, and in the quiet exchange of glances, you detected a shared understanding – a recognition that you had the right, and more than deserved to forgive yourself, and throw away the hurt you had accumulated over the years with a light heart. He stood beside you, holding onto the sacks that you had stuffed full of items that haunted you, mutely berated you and induced agonising ruminations. Papers, trinkets, utter garbage that you had never been able to throw out on your own, all collected like nightmare capsules and you were more than elated to bid them farewell.

He had not yet taken off his glasses, eager to move onwards and upwards. One of these days you might muster up the courage to tell Mingi just how handsome he was in whatever style he chose, but that was a mission for a more courageous you. From tonight into the myriad of tomorrows. Your partner in self-revolution stretched his arms towards you, gingerly passing the hefty items over and waiting for you to get a better grip. To think that there were clouds of buzzing paranoia and dread attached to either one - suffocating, persistent.

While regarding Mingi’s tranquil resolve, you discovered a sliver of a near-boyish excitement, so characteristic of him before growing pains had changed your relationship and all that came with it, that your heart ached, and a prickly sensation made itself known on the back of your hand where he had left a solitary peck. And yet, he still was not giving up on you. From the pocket of his jeans - appearing to take on the shade of a washed out chrome under the shining skies, Mingi produced a box of matches, and upon leaning closer to the truck, grasped the handle of a stick protruding from a miniature canister. More than enough to carry out the impending transformation. Mingi’s stunning orbs met yours, and without words, he conveyed a mixture of determination and sorrow, a silent promise and cheer for the grand finale.

"Here’s to letting go, and to holding on to the things that make us right," he uttered, his voice carrying the power of a truth that echoed in the night air.

“Then… I’ll be right back.”

“I will be here. Cousin said everything’s unlocked. Put things in places where the fire’ll reach.”

One step. Another. Walk turning into run, you chased after who you wished to become and propelled yourself with unprecedented pride. You could do this. With one quick push the door to the barn creaked open, and you made haste in lining the walls with who you used to be. You could taste ash on your tongue and see the fire in your pupils even though you were consumed by pitch black; here, you had the final say. Upon throwing the sacks into whatever direction, you felt your way back out, and returned to Mingi who, apparently, had the time to reposition the car a little to have the back be facing the barn. With a mischievous grin he greeted you, and pulled you into a quick embrace before giving you a matchstick and the box and leading the two of you to the structure one last time.

This had been an agreement between you - you were the one to light the first flame, and he was the one to do the rest. Though this was a journey of healing, he did not wish for you to delude yourself into a guilt-ridden state. Mingi could bear the brunt of that for you and wear it like a badge of honour. As though patrolling the grounds, he went in a circle around the barn, leaving behind the acrid stench of splattered gasoline. Suddenly, the act felt more and more real. A yelp caught in your throat as Mingi shoved the empty canister inside through a loose wooden board, now only holding onto the unlit torch. Gazed at you, awaiting the monumental execution.

Trembling just a little, on the third try you managed to light the match, and stepped to the building full of your painful memories. the flames danced in the blackness like whispers of farewell. As you approached the ancient barn with Mingi in toe, the match's glow illuminated the grains of wood that had weathered countless storms. The night seemed to draw its breath, as though it sensed the profound act about to unfold. Outstretching the judgement between your fingers, you hesitated for a fleeting moment. The gravity of the act hung heavy – the acknowledgment that setting fire to the past was a painful necessity for new beginnings. Nevertheless, you were certain. The barn, with its history that you will never learn, became a symbol of surrender, resilience and perseverance. Holding your breath, you dropped the match, but when the result did not satisfy you, you sensed a wave of rage. You wanted more, you needed it all gone from sight and experience.

“Mingi.”

“Hm?”

“The torch, please.”

“Oh?”

“Please.”

With a silent understanding, Mingi raised the torch, the flames licking eagerly at its edges, and passed it to you. The blade that would slash through it all. The full stop at the end of this turbulent chapter. As you touched the fire to the barn, a crackling symphony echoed through the night. The dry wood, with the base generously coated in gasoline caught quickly, and soon the barn was ablaze, a kaleidoscope of oranges, reds, and yellows against the backdrop of the moonlit fields.

The flames danced with an insatiable hunger, consuming the old wood with a fervour that mirrored the intensity of emotions in the hearts of the witnesses. Shadows flickered and danced on the ground, casting ephemeral images of what once was, each crackle of the fire a poignant reminder of the release happening before your eyes. Mingi turned to you, his eyes reflecting the blaze that mirrored the intensity of his and your emotions. In that poignant moment, the warmth of the fire contrasted with the chill in the night air, echoing the bittersweet nature of letting go.

"We are making room for something new," he whispered before pulling you into a long-awaited kiss, as searing and filled with longing as the soaring flames that illuminated your bodies. The crackling fire served as a cathartic release, and in its glow, you saw promise. As soon as you parted, the two of you rushed to the truck, climbing to take the front seats to admire the masterpiece, not daring to sit apart, holding onto each other through it all.

As the fire continued its dance, the night bore witness to the act of relinquishing the old, a solemn ritual that paved the way to more and more. Together, you and Mingi stood amidst the mesmerising spectacle, your hearts intertwined with the rhythm of the burning, ready to step into the unknown and shape a destiny yet to unfold.

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