#I'm a week late to posting something regarding the new year but i did something at least xDDDD

[hansama]

I hope I see you in my dreams

Happy New year everyone!

[readychilledwine]

A Helping Hand

Rhysand Week Day 4 : Lord of Night

Summary - High Lord, Husband, father. Rhysand's plate is just far too full, leading the Inner Circle to take over some duties.

Warnings - workaholic Rhysand, discussions of classism, new dad Rhys, platonic bond, loose editing so forgive me if I fix things later

A/N - I am so sorry this is late! I think someone *cough baby daddy cough* accidently deleted it when he did a run through for me. But anyways, happy late day 4 and day 5 of @officialrhysandweek! It'll be a double post day 💕

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

“Please just let me handle this for you,” you were firm in the request, hand still on the request of approval to renovate the Opera house in the Rainbow. “We both know this project is completely unneeded. There is no reason for you to waste your time penning the letter.”

Rhysand stared at where your hand met the paper. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, “I-”

“No. It's time for us to have a serious discussion.” You took the paper from him and then held his hands. “Rhysand, you have spread yourself far too thin. You are not sleeping well with a newborn, you are helping Feyre as she's healing, you are recovering from trauma. Let me help you by organizing the report by who should actually be handling them.”

Rhys seemed to consider your words before nodding, “I want final-”

“Rhysand, we have known each other for 500 years. Do you truly not trust me enough to make a decision based on your preferences?”

He tugged that power exchange bond between the two of you, silently asking for a bit of your energy. You offered it to him without hesitation, without even so much as thinking about your well-being over his. “I do not want the fae in this court knowing I'm not the one running the court.” You couldn't help but sigh and roll your eyes and stare at him, blinking as if to say, “Duh.” His lips twitched into a smile at you, “What are you going to do, sweetheart? Forge my signat..” His eyes went wide as he realized that was exactly what you had planned. “I expect brief rundowns first.”

“And you will have them. Now go take a nap.”

The Inner Circle gathered in the new father's office claiming reports left and right. Cassian took anything involving Illyria and the training camps. Azriel took anything involving newcomers to the City of Starlight, border related issues, and requests for visiting. Mor and Amren split Hewn City. Dividing those reports among issues relating to rumors of uprisings or requests for help and sanctuary from tortured females. It left you with things regarding the inner workings of Velaris. You were curled in your own office, writing the rejection letter for the Opera House Project. The Opera House had been a gift to Velaris after Rhysand's return home. It was barely more than a few years old and every single feature had been planned to perfection by you and Rhysand as a way to heal the odd bind that tied you two together. The wealthy fae of Velaris were asking to redo the seating. Specifically, they wanted the seats to be made larger. 

You knew this wasn't for comfort. You had fallen in love with studying the patterns of consumerism throughout Prythian history. You knew this project was aimed at accessibility. Less sears meant higher prices for shows. Higher prices meant exclusion of the middle and lower classes. Exclusion from the arts was dangerous, though. Something you, Rhysand, and Feyre stood firmly against. 

Hours seemed to pass as you finished one thing and moved to the next, realizing how far behind Rhysand had gotten. He was hardly sleeping, rotating nights with Feyre, or just forcing her to sleep while he handled nights with a newborn alone. He was being the father he never had. One who earned the title of Dad, and you knew the last thing he'd want was the fae he cared so much for to suffer because of it. 

The sunset when Cassian arrived, his work completed. “Rhys has been given the gist of everything. I am to only have to send one thing to the camp leaders,” Cassian slid a letter, one penned by himself over to you. “Rhysie is having them start to direct all issues to me first. Using your whole chain of command idea.” 

Silence. 

Cassian's words were met with silence as you swallowed hard, holding in tears of pride. “He's delegating?!”

The commander nodded, scarred lips twitching to smirk. “He is.”

You'd never faked his signature so fast, quill flying across the parchments, “This is good.”

Azriel was next with Nuala and Cerridwen in tow, “City guard is to report issues to the twins from now on,” he leaned into his chair. “If they deem it serious enough, they will handle it unless I need to get involved.”

“And if you can't handle it,” you questioned as a joke. 

Azriel scoffed before schooling his reaction to your jab, “Then, and only then, is Rhys to get involved. My part of his reports are done and sent. I didn't think anyone would have issues with me answering security related issues.” 

They'd be a fool to, is what you wanted to reply with. Azriel was not the type of male to fuck with unless you had a death wish. He was petty at times and loved to plot. 

Mor came next, throwing herself dramatically into the chair. “I hate how your Office is a dry zone,” she groaned. “I'll be visiting daddy dearest.” 

You gagged at that and the two of you launched into a gossip session. Turns out, her father had taken Rhysand's recent absence in Hewn City as an open invitation to run a few illegal trade rings. Rings Mor was all too happy to be putting an end to. 

“That summarizes what Amren and I will both be dealing with,” she yawned, perfect red nails flying to her lips. “I'm going to bed.”

10.

11. 

Midnight.

2am rolled around and your door opened again, a sleepy Rhysand carrying a sleeping Nyx. “Go to bed,” his tone was commanding but held an air of affection to you. “You're no better than me.”

You only maintained eye contact, smirking as you put his name on a document approving a community vegetable garden and greenhouse, “Yet here we are,” you whispered. “All your reports, acquisitions, and petitions done and handled.”

His face fell, eyes shutting as he nodded, “You all got me caught up?”

With a wave of your hand, all the stacks vanished to their proper locations where they would sit and wait to be opened by their receivers. “We did,” you stood as silently as possible and moved to him and Nyx, “Do you want me to go lay him down?”

Rhysand only responded by pulling you into a tight side hug, his face burying in your hair, “How can I repay you for this? You have no clue what this meant to Feyre and I.”

The hug was payment enough. Contact with your best friend making that power bond hum as you hugged him back, “No repayment is necessary, Rhys. We all need help sometimes.”

“But-”

You whispered again, interrupting him, “We all need help sometimes.”

Understand, gratefulness, and admiration filled his almost violet colored gaze, “How did I get blessed with Feyre as my mate and you as my carranam?”

“Good question,” you shot back. “Maybe it was so we could keep you humble.” You took Nyx slowly, moving to walk the little heir back to his nursery. “Or maybe it was to keep you from dying in your office. Goodnight, Rhysand.”

You could tell he wanted to sass you back, to have the last word. It had been so long since that side of him came out, and you were glad to see a day of rest brought some fire back to him. He seemed to settle with nodding, walking backwards as he watched you take Nyx, “This isn't over. Once I wake up refreshed tomorrow, it's on. Goodnight, Y/n.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[xxfangirl365xx]

alright kids, gather around. I have some things I'd like to say regarding last night in a very organized list format

OVERALL SHOW THOUGHTS

Overall It was beautiful. I cried watching the stream. But sadly went to bed before it was over because I was feeling very unwell from staying up so late ): I missed blood,I'm not ok and Helena on stream but that's ok <3

MCR5,NEW TOUR?

-Did not expect them to release anything about that last night since it was night one of two. More likely they would do it tonight so I'm holding out hope for tonight since it's the more likely option

SOCIALS/ONLINE PRESENCE/POSTS

-Frank has NOT posted anything regarding MCR only dunes, which is very unlike him. As we know Frank loved MCR to death. He's the no 1 fan of his own band so I find it odd and very intentional that he has not posted anything about MCR at wwwyf only dunes

-along the same lines Mikey has not posted anything. Few weeks ago we got practice from him which was good, but all we have from him r 2 pics of him and his wife which r adorable, but not relating to MCR. also seems a little intentional to not have said anything about them playing at all

-MCR'S socials r DRY like bone dry. With swarm tour they posted things about "tonight were playing in (blank) at (blank time)" or something like that but they didn't post anything about WWWYF apart from when tickets went on sale for both days which is a little odd in my opinion

for all of them the silence seems ominous. Like they r trying to build suspense

OUTFIT'S, STAGE,GEE'S HAIR

-All black outfits head to toe, they looked good but it was very lacking black parade tbh (not a bad thing they looked so cute tho)

-STAGE-

-Only projections of spiders,tree (during cancer),swords,bridge (?),worms (?)

-SPIDERS PROJECTED

-swarm logo=fly

-spiders= eat flies

-"Witch" was leaked earlier this year. Paper kingdom was the album meant to come right after black parade. Their aesthetic kinda similar. Whites,blacks ect.

-some of the visuals like the swords was giving very paper kingdom 100% and if I rly did see a bridge projection in the background that's also very much the vibe. but most this stuff was done in short flashes across the backdrop

-Gee's hair-

-New haircut (stunning btw)

-new era? Gee had changed his hair for new era's. bullets/revenge it stayed pretty much the same apart from random dye jobs here and there but during black parade he got it real short and bleached it. Danger days ht dyed it red. hair is a big thing when it comes to Gee.

-New hair since shrine show (2019) pretty much. He's had long hair since MCR has come back together. U could argue it was to look nice but think about all the other stuff he's done that was also a big deal like umbrella acad final season and stuff. Why didn't he get a haircut then? Why now? and why was he hiding it?

-The last vid we got was earlier in the week the birthday one and he had the long hair still. It was recent like he did this JUST for the shows.

-i'm 100% taking this is a way of moving into a new era for MCR

MERCH

-some people were kinda bummed there was no new cool merch from the festival apart from the DEAD! zip up which is pretty cool ngl

-kinda looked like they were trying to get rid of older stuff before making something new perhaps?

-spending more time and resources on NEW shirts for a NEW album makes more sense than spending all the time and resources on designing new shirts for black parade when they can do that pretty much any time

HOPES FOR TONIGHT'S SHOW

I will not be staying up this time sorry guys. I slept 4 hours last night and feel very unwell from it. So i'll be sleeping tonight sadly but here is my hopes and predictions for tonight.

-MCR will play just like last night with the visuals and stuff but will maybe play one new song or announce it some how with the backdrop and "Paper Kingdom" will be announced to be released on OCT. 31

-Their socials will go live with all the info immediately

-Shortly after the album comes out there will be tour dates announced for spring/summer of 2025 INCLUDING warped tour

-END-

thanks for listening to my rambles if I think of more i'll add it to the list but I wanted a cohesive place to put all my findings and thoughts to share

[bloodylullaby]

Dont know if you take blurb requests but I wanted to ask for one (no pressure❤)

What about, something like the reader and Noah being together for a couple months and she thinks that he's gonna leave her for whatever reason but Noah 'reassures' her so she can keep calm.

Idk if you like this but do what you please with it❤

Okay, I got overly excited and a little nervous writing this, but I hope this is what you were semi-looking for. If not, I will do it again without hesitation! :) :)

I may or may not have read other blurbs to make sure I was doing this right.

Song

Masterlist

Three glorious months—seemingly a blink in the vast of time, yet profoundly meaningful in the journey you and Noah have navigated. It marks the peak of three years of friendship, a journey paved with shared laughter, countless conversations, and moments of unspoken understanding. Finally reaching the finish line, you both have embarked on a new chapter, intertwining your lives in a bond strengthened by trust, mutual admiration, and a deep-rooted connection. Every day shows the lasting beauty of your relationship and the profound impact of love, which thrives and grows with each passing moment.

Things seemed like they couldn't get more perfect until your first big fight. You posted a picture of you and Noah cuddling up in his bed, and he freaked out a little. He was one for complete privacy regarding the internet, but you wanted to shout your relationship to the world. It was hard for you to understand why he didn’t want pictures of you two posted, and it was even more challenging for you not to take it as personally as you did. You have been holed up in your room blasting "Lover Dearest '' by Marianas Trench for an intense hour, screaming and crying the lyrics to yourself.

You felt like he was going to break up with you sometime in the near future, and it was getting harder and harder for you not to freak out about it. This caused you to slightly distance yourself from him, which wasn’t hard due to him working in the studio a lot lately. Everything seemed reduced to slower texts, fewer calls, and limited visits for several weeks. You knew it was because once Noah had a creative flow, he couldn’t be slowed down, but emotionally, it felt like he was avoiding you because he didn't want you around anymore.

There was a knock on your door, so you slowly got up to answer it. On the other side was Noah, who had a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a big smile on his face. His expression slightly faltered when he saw your tear-streaked face. Confusion crossed his features when he heard the song you were playing. 

“Why are you listening to your break-up song?” He asked. That just pushed you over the edge and made your tears fall again. He grabbed your face with his free hand, wiping away the tears. “Hey…shhhh, it’s okay, baby. What’s going on?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.

“Are you going to break up with me?” You asked through sniffles and hiccups. Avoiding eye contact, you couldn't bear to see his face, knowing it would only deepen your heartbreak.

Seeing the anguish in your eyes, Noah's expression softened with understanding. After setting down the flowers, he gently cupped your face with both hands, coaxing you to look at him. 

"Hey, no, no, baby, I'm not going to break up with you," he reassured you, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you, okay? I'm here for you."

Feeling relieved, you finally meet his gaze, tears still glistening. With a shaky breath, you leaned into his embrace, comforting yourself with his reassuring presence. Noah held you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you let yourself release the pent-up emotions weighing on you. Looking up at him, you both get swept up in the feelings, and he kisses you. At first, it starts slow and gentle, a way for him to show you that he understands your feelings and will be there to take the pain away. Then it starts to turn hungry, showing you his passion for you and that he isn’t going anywhere.

Leading him to your room, you lay on your bed as he climbs over you. The air is thick with anticipation and desire as he leans in to kiss you, his lips tender and warm against yours. As the kiss deepens, you feel a surge of emotion wash over you, the intensity of your connection palpable in every touch.

For the next hour, Noah worships you and every inch of your body, his lips and hands moving with purpose and passion. Each caress declares his love and commitment, reassuring you that he isn't going anywhere. In his embrace, you feel safe and cherished, the worries and doubts of earlier fading into the background as you lose yourself in the moment. Time seems to stand still as you revel in the intimacy and closeness you share, knowing that together, you can weather any storm that comes your way.

[deadgirlwalking91]

new update - 'thank you for the venom', chapter 8: 'stay quiet, stay near, stay close, they can't hear'

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight Summary

Lute makes a decision regarding Adam's proposition.

No weekend preview today... instead, I'm positing the whole chapter ;) hoping to shift my posting schedule to the weekend instead of a Tuesday, so let's see how this works. Thanks all for reading and engaging so far, hope you like this one. It was a fun time to write! Cheers @branded-rose for beta-ing and for patiently answering all my "but does this make senseeeeeee" questions. You have the patience of a saint to deal with me haha.

This was a predicament that Lute never, in her wildest dreams - or nightmares - expected to find herself in.

Sure, lately her interactions with Adam had been teetering more towards civility, as opposed to constantly wanting to rip his throat out with her bare hands. And their meeting the other week, despite her stomach-ache later and awful bloating later that night, had been somewhat tolerable.

Though, the feeling in her stomach after that meeting was nothing compared to the liquid-hot magma that was simmering at the moment, threatening to spill up into her chest and flow throughout her entire body.

Granted, she should have known better, should have been prepared that something like this would happen. As soon as she set Adam straight on her sexuality, she knew it was only a matter of time before he pulled his predictable bullshit and hit on her. After all, she’d be the final notch on his bedpost when it came to the women in his army. 

The straight ones, anyway.

What she didn’t expect though, was to enjoy it.

It wasn’t like Adam had never been close to her physically - in fact, it felt that in the few months since he found out about her revamped training regime, he’d found multiple ways to invade her personal space to antagonise her. And it worked. Executed to perfection by him, really. He knew how to get under her skin, and he excelled at it.

This, though? He was getting under her skin, just not in his usual manner.

Because this time, despite the rational part of her brain screaming at her to snap out of whatever stupor she’d found herself in, she was hot, bothered and turned the fuck on. And she needed to leave before she did something stupid about it. Now.

Especially considering if she stayed, she’d probably keep drinking, which given her current state of mind, was not smart. She’d already had enough.

Shakily, Lute slid off her stool, gripping the padded seat for support as she found her feet. Wine on an empty stomach was never a good idea. It went straight to her head, clouding her judgement. Fuelling potential bad decisions.

Sober Lute wouldn’t let her boss tell her he wanted to take her home for the night and have his way with her. Or let him put his hands all over her in public while she held them against her body, in full view of her sisters, like he owned her. Like she was his, and his alone.

And she would never, in a million years, have thought that she wanted to be taken to his place so he could have his way with her. She needed to move away from him, so that the tiny shred of willpower that she was desperately clinging to wouldn’t be whittled down to nothing. 

Smoothing her dress down, she cleared her throat before turning to Adam, who was now leaning against the bar counter, smirking down at her. Bastard.

“I need to go,” she declared, her voice faltering as she lifted her chin in a last-ditch attempt at bravado. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the office.”

He folded his arms, his arrogant smirk only growing as he looked her up and down, his eyes lingering hungrily at the hem of her dress.

“Hate to see you leave, love to watch you go, Lutey.”

Exhaling deeply, trying to control her heart thumping in her chest, Lute ignored him as she strode towards the door leading to the gardens outside. She needed to find Vaggie, to pretend she was feeling unwell so they could leave, immediately.

She had to get home as soon as possible before she changed her mind and ran back to Adam, and she could only do that with Vaggie’s support.

Not that she’d breathe a word of what had happened to her.

She threw the door open and briefly closed her eyes as she felt the relief of cold air, the gentle breeze welcomed on her burning face and chest as she scanned the courtyard for her friend. Despite the pleasant, mild night the outdoor space was mostly deserted, save for a small group of exorcist angels seated around a table chatting excitedly amongst one another. Lute wandered throughout the gardens, keeping an eye out in hope that she’d spot Vaggie amongst the exotic flowers and greenery. 

No luck.

Sighing, she approached a secluded corner in the far end of the courtyard, hidden by a large, leafy tree. The space was unoccupied, but her head was reeling from her encounter with Adam inside the bar and she needed a moment to process her thoughts, to try and come up with a game plan on how to move forward.

She leaned the side of her body against the wooden fence that lined the perimeter of the venue, facing away from the rest of the yard, her features relaxing for the first time since walking away from Adam. Her chest heaved, the pounding in her heart ringing in her ears as she raked a hand through her hair, trying to recreate the sensation of his fingers running along her scalp. 

Her hands dropped to hold herself around her waist, recalling his possessive hold on her like she belonged to him.

Remembering his bare hand splayed across the top of her bare thigh, inching further and further up her leg until he toyed with the hem of her dress, and how the only coherent thought that ran through her head was how she wanted him to keep going, to feel his way under the material until…

She swallowed nervously, trying not to let her imagination run too wild.

“Get it together, Lute,” she muttered to herself, sharply pinching the soft flesh of her inner arm in an attempt to shock herself out of her lustful stupor. It had no effect except for leaving a gold-tinged mark on her pale skin. “He’s only doing this because he’s realised you’re just another number he can add to his body count. Nothing more. You don’t matter to him. You don’t want to matter to him. He’s an incompetent idiot.”

Hugging her arms around herself, she puffed her cheeks and rubbed her thumbs into her biceps, attempting to distract herself from her thoughts. She let her chest rise and fall rhythmically, and, after some time, her pulse slowed.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, zoned out, focusing on her breathing, when she felt two large, firm hands take hold of her hips from behind. Yelping in surprise, her heart rate skyrocketed once again, and she didn’t need to turn around to know those hands belonged to the very man she had walked away from earlier that night.

“What the fuck, Sir?” she gasped, her grip on her arms tightening. “What do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me like that?”

“You never gave me an answer,” she heard him say, his raspy voice quieter than usual. Softer.

“I was just leaving,” she lied, her body betraying her brain as she turned around, her hands shifting to instinctively rest on his chest. Swallowing nervously, she looked up into the yellow features of that hideous fucking mask that she hated so much.

She wasn’t quite so sure though, that she still hated what laid underneath anymore.

It was unlikely she’d ever find out.

“Leaving all by yourself, babe?”

“Yes,” Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands started roaming her body once more, one coming to rest on her lower back, the other cradling the back of her neck. “Specifically, without you.”

Shit, shit, shit. 

“Then why haven’t you gone home, hmm?”

Her eyes involuntarily fluttered shut as he ran his thumb down her jawline, letting it come to rest against her bottom lip where he gently tugged at it, parting her lips slightly.

It took every shred of the minimal willpower left in her body not to give in completely to him then and there. She just couldn’t bring herself to be yet another number. To be branded another one of ‘his girls’.

She could almost hear Vaggie’s stern voice in the back of her mind, reminding her that she was better than that, that she was smarter than that…

“Come home with me.”

“No.”

She opened her eyes, and gold met yellow as she stared into his soulless, digital face. 

Think, Lieutenant.

It was in that moment, somewhere amongst the fog that clouded her judgement, that Lute found the exact solution to her predicament. What if there was something in it for her? What if she got what she wanted? Something to finally satisfy her curiosity?

There was a ninety-nine percent chance he would decline, anyway. Probably tell her to fuck off. If that were the case, no harm done. She’d avoid becoming the very thing she hated, and while she wouldn’t get what she wanted, she could live with that. They could forget this night ever happened and go back to hating each other and trading blows as per usual.

But if he said yes… then she might be able to justify it.

“Unless,” she said slowly, glancing downwards at her feet, carefully trying to articulate the words in her mind before they left her mouth. “Unless you give me what I want.”

She felt his grip on her neck tighten, shooting shivers down her spine, rattling her. “Go on.”

“I’ll -” she took a breath. “I’ll go home with you. But only if you take the mask off. I get to see your face.” She looked up at him, squaring her shoulders in an attempt to feign confidence. 

Adam’s hands fell by his side as he stepped backwards, shaking his head.

“As tempting as your little proposal is, it’s not happening, Lute.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the pang of disappointment that nagged at her. “Then I guess I’m going home alone tonight.”

“Fine.” 

“Good.” Lute crossed her arms and glared towards the centre of the courtyard, trying to see if Vaggie had ventured outside so she could grab her and leave without looking back.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Adam’s mouth. “You seem kinda pissed. Something you wanna share with me, babe?”

“No.”

“Admit it, you thought what happened back inside was kinda hot.” With one stride, he’d managed to close the distance between them again, their bodies just touching - though she was slightly disappointed that he’d managed to keep his hands to himself this time.

Lute snorted. “Please, Sir. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen you pull the exact same moves with the other girls in the past. I was just…” she trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence.

“Just what, hmm?”

His hands found her hips again, pressing her against him, and her wings fluttered involuntarily.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “What are you doing?”

“Testing a theory.”

“Which is?”

He flashed her a wide smile, dragging his fingertips slowly up and down her sides. He was deliberately antagonising her. Teasing her. “You’ve got it bad for me, babe. I don’t blame you - I’d have it bad for my boss, too.”

Lute’s eyes widened, horrified. “You have it bad for Sera?”

“Shit!” Adam cursed, fingers digging into Lute’s waist. “I fucked that up -”

Lute tilted her head back slightly and laughed, shoulders quivering as her hands came to rest on his forearms. 

Accidentally, of course. 

Adam snickered, shaking his head. “I haven’t screwed up a line like that in years. I’m usually smooth as fuck.”

“First time for everything, isn’t there, Sir?” she smiled up at him, amused, momentarily forgetting the unusual predicament she had found herself in. A rare, peaceful silence passed between the two of them; one where they did nothing except smile at each other.

It seemed there certainly was a first time for everything.

“Yeah, he mused, uncharacteristically quiet, cocking his head to the side slightly and frowning. “I guess there is, Lutey.”

Adam pulled one of his hands away from her waist, causing her hold on his arm to slip. Hesitating slightly, he brought it to the chin of his mark and lifted ever so slightly before stopping completely.

Lute’s breath caught in her throat as the realisation of what he was doing hit her like a ton of bricks, her heart now racing so fast she was sure he could feel it rocketing away in her chest.

“Wha -”

“Close your eyes.”

She gripped his arm tighter. “No way, you’re finally taking that hideous thing off, I’m not -”

“Close your fucking eyes, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”

Groaning in frustration, she reluctantly obeyed her commanding officer, squeezing her eyes shut. “Fine, they’re closed. Tell me when to open.” His other hand fell from her waist, her other arm coming to rest by her side as he moved away, putting distance between them once again.

She desperately wanted to peek, to let just one eyelid open slightly so she could see what he was doing. Did he have to fix himself somehow before revealing his true identity to her? She held her breath, trying to listen for a sign of what to expect when she was allowed to look.

Nothing.

Tapping her foot impatiently, she puffed her cheeks in frustration. “Can I open them now?”

“No, you impatient bitch! Do not fucking open them until I say. I mean it, Lute, or I’ll kick your ass.”

“Fine, whatever, just hurry up.”

Two warm hands suddenly cupped the sides of her face, tilting it upwards, a single thumb grazing her cheekbone.

“What are you doing?”

“Remember, keep them closed,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

She couldn’t think; him being so close to her was making her head spin, her heart flutter, her throat tighten.

Then, without warning, he closed the space between them and kissed her.

It took Lute a moment to register that the mask had gone, and that the mouth against hers was warm and soft, kissing her with an eagerness that caused her to melt against him completely.

His lips moved expertly against hers, capturing her mouth over and over as his hands left her face and grabbed at her hips, shifting her so that her back was flush against the wooden fence.

Lute sighed into his mouth, her own hands instinctively flying upwards into his hair, running her fingers through the coarse strands, trying to imagine the colour, the style, how it framed his face.

Oh, how she longed to see his face.

“Hold on, babe.” Adam whispered against her lips, and before she could respond, he gripped the back of her thighs and hoisted her up, his hips pinning her roughly against the fence.

Wrapping her legs around his middle for stability, Lute moaned softly as he slowly ran his tongue across her bottom lip, silently asking her for permission to enter her mouth. And when their tongues finally collided, his hands started hungrily roaming her thighs and ass under her dress, grabbing at and rubbing her bare skin like he couldn’t get enough of her.

She tried to concentrate on his touch, how he was practically manhandling her like she was his little plaything, his large hands desperately kneading at her skin.

Warmth pooled between her thighs as she wondered what else he could do with those fingers.

Disentangling one hand from his hair, she let it drop so she could cradle his face in one hand. She took her time feeling the stubble along his jawline prickle the soft inside of her palm as he continued working her mouth with his own, keeping a firm, steady pace, not showing any sign of stopping or slowing down. 

The sensation of touching his face and hair, but not seeing him was exciting, enthralling, exhilarating, and she made the silent decision that if it just so happened that he ended up fucking her against the fence, then so be it. Dignity be damned, she was horny as fuck and they’d gone this far, what did it matter if they ended up going all the way?

Her dress was hiked up around her waist now, exposing her thin, cotton underwear to him. Groaning loudly at the sensation of his hardened length pressing against her, she tensed her legs and ground her hips into his. She started rhythmically rolling them back and forth, the friction causing her arousal to build, almost sending herself over the edge at one point before she backed right off. She didn’t want to spoil herself in case things escalated further, plus she had a feeling there was no way she’d be able to keep quiet if she did come. Given they were in a public place, that could be a problem.

When Adam eventually broke away, both of them gasping for air, she threw the back of her head against the fence in protest, groaning at the feel of the night’s air on her face.

“You kept them closed,” he breathed, a hint of relief evident in his voice as he eased his hips off hers, her feet giddily touching the ground once more. “Aren’t you a good lieutenant, obeying orders? That’s why you’re my best girl, Lute.”

Breathless, she nodded, blindly grabbing his face to draw his mouth down to hers as she let out a needy little whimper. Because above all, she was a damn good lieutenant and it was about fucking time he recognised it. Took him long enough, too.

“Just so you know,” he whispered against her, letting her tug at his bottom lip with her teeth, “I don’t do this shit. Ever.”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, not paying attention to what he was saying as one of his hands found its way to the thin strap of her dress, slipping it down to expose her shoulder.

“I mean it, babe. I don’t kiss on the mouth, and I’ve never taken this off for anyone.” Down came the other strap, her shoulders fully exposed to the cool night air now. She suddenly became aware of just how hard her nipples were. They painfully rubbed against the material of her dress, adding to the pleasure she was already feeling in other parts of her body as she pressed against him.

“Mmmhmm.”

Lute simply didn’t care what he was talking about at that moment; truthfully, she wasn’t registering a single word that he was saying. Right now, she was too busy focusing on the sensation of his massive hand under her dress, teasing as he ran a finger just underneath the seam at her inner thigh. She whined in frustration, bucking her hips in the direction of his hand, indicating that she wanted him to quit messing around with her and get to the fucking point.

“Lute, are you out here? It’s time to go.” 

A familiar voice rang clear in her ears, causing Lute to stop dead in their tracks as she was trying to undo the zipper of her dress one-handed.

Vaggie.

“Shit!” She broke the kiss, whacking Adam forcefully on the arm in hopes that he’d get his hand out of her underwear and pay attention to the fact that Vaggie was about to catch them making out against the fence.

“Vaggie!” she hissed, ducking her head into his chest. “Tell me if she’s coming this way, my eyes are still closed! I can’t see where she is!”

“Keep them fucking closed until I say otherwise,” he growled, moving away and Lute had to bite the urge to protest when she no longer felt him touching her.

If Vaggie found her here, secluded in the corner with Adam… she would know. She was incredibly astute, and even if Lute could come up with a brilliant excuse as to why she was alone and dishevelled with her boss’ hands up her dress, Vaggie would never, ever in a million years buy it.

The judgement alone would be enough to kill her.

“Lute?”

“Open.”

Lute’s eyes fluttered open, darting towards the door where she could faintly make out a familiar, grey bob heading back inside. Exhaling, she slid downwards against the fence until she hit the floor, stretching her legs out in front of her, grateful that Vaggie hadn’t bothered to look for her too hard.

In her relief, she’d even almost forgotten about Adam until he joined her on the ground, mask and hood firmly fixed back in their usual place, much to Lute’s disappointment..

“If she’d seen us…” she started, trailing off as she rested her head against the fence. “She’d gut me with her spear in a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

Lute turned, frowning slightly at Adam. “Because for years, she’s heard me complain about what a rude, obnoxious, disgusting, incompetent asshole you are. And she’d tell me I’m worth so much more than just being another notch in your belt.” She jutted her chin out and drew herself up taller. “And she’s right. I’m strong, and intelligent, and a damn good leader to those girls.”

“Never said you weren’t.”

“I don’t need you to,” she shot back. “I don’t need your validation.”

“Then what are you going on about, woman?”

Lute chewed her lip nervously, unsure if she should be blunt or dance around the issue. “I think you only hit on me tonight because you’ve found out I’m straight.”

Adam snorted. “That’s bullshit.”

“The timing is very coincidental, Sir.”

Adam cleared his throat. “Look, yeah, I didn’t think you were into guys. And maybe that’s my bad, because honestly, I didn’t give a shit about getting to know you. You’re a bitchy, mouthy little brat who doesn’t know when to quit. But,” he added, noticing Lute’s face had hardened in anger, “You do a fucking great job as my lieutenant. The girls know it, I know it. Fuck, even Sera knows it, or otherwise she wouldn’t have taken your idea seriously.”

Lute nodded, her expression softening. “Thanks.” She fiddled with the hem of her dress, unsure how else to respond.

“Why did you do it?” she found herself blurting out, avoiding his gaze as a blush crept up her cheeks. She wasn’t entirely sure she was prepared for his answer.

Adam cocked his head at her. “Do what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Do - do what we did before.” 

She couldn’t quite bring herself to ask ‘why did you almost fuck me against the fence?’

He shrugged. “I figured we should just get it out of our systems. Years of sexual tension and all that jazz.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what, Lute?”

“Get it out of your system?”

He stared at her, expressionless. “Yeah. Did you?”

“Yep. Gone. So out of my system.” she lied, waving a hand in the air, feigning nonchalance.

It was, in fact, not out of her system. Not after she’d felt his lips against hers, or how his coarse hair felt in her hands as the strands slipped between her fingers. How his identity was still a complete mystery, but at least now she knew he was real under that mask.

Still, their little encounter had left her yearning for more. So much more. She needed to know the colour of his eyes, whether his hair was dark or light, what his skin tone was. 

How his body would feel on top of hers as he buried himself inside her.

“But…” she continued, breaking her train of thought before her imagination began running wild. “Can we never speak of this again? Pretend it never happened?”

“Yeah, alright. Fine,” he answered dully, and she noticed his mood suddenly turning sour.

“I mean it, Sir.”

“I said fucking alright!” Adam snapped, turning away from her.

Lute crossed her arms and glared in the opposite direction, irked by his sudden change in demeanour. “Good.”

Neither of them spoke for several seconds, instead choosing to avoid looking at each other completely.

“Well,” Adam said abruptly, pulling himself up to a standing position, still not looking at Lute. “I’m out. See you tomorrow morning in the office.”

“Bye, then.”

She reluctantly watched him leave, and sighed, knowing that despite the night’s crazy turn of events, their parting exchange proved that tomorrow would be just another day in the office.

Groaning, she banged her head against the fence again. 

Dammit.

Adam took his seat at the bar again, nodding at the bartender as they caught his eye and pointed to a glass.

The night had… escalated. Far more so than he imagined it would, despite said escalation being his doing.

If only they hadn’t been interrupted by Vaggie, that cock-blocking little bitch, he was sure Lute would have agreed to go home with him.

Sighing, he pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time and noticed a text message notification at the top of his screen. He clicked onto it, frowning.

Layla: Hey, raincheck tonight? Something’s come up.

He’d forgotten all about his plans with Layla amongst the excitement of that night’s events. And yet…

He had no desire to see Layla that night. Or any other woman, for that matter.

Not unless she had platinum hair, a smart mouth and could put away two dozen ribs, preferably in a tiny, red dress.

Adam: All good, chat soon.

She replied almost instantly.

Layla. No worries. Besides, you seemed preoccupied tonight - not that I blame you. She looked hooooot ;)

Smirking, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and accepted the drink from the bartender. Layla was the ultimate hype-girl, and for that, he was thankful.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lute making her way hurriedly to the front door, pausing momentarily to glance at him before ducking her head and slipping away into the night.

Tonight may not have been the night to sleep with Lute, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to happen. 

He just hoped it would be sooner rather than later. 

***

Next time: Another training mishap puts Lute in a tricky situation for a week or so.

[northern-polaris]

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Description: I wrote some tamsand and SOMEONE(YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) bullied me into posting it so please accept this brainrot. Warnings for canon stuff that happened utm but it's not elaborated on.

Rhysand never liked Lucien.

The seventh son of the Lady of Autumn. Born during a time of delicate peace between courts. Overshadowed by the siblings that towered over him. Unremarkable and of no use save for the snort Rhysand smothered the day when the child was presented as Beron’s at the high lords’ meeting. 

One look at the boy could tell anyone otherwise. 

It was a much needed source of amusement amongst the boredom, the gathering was completely devoid of any of value. Nothing justified him being there whatsoever. 

Tamlin was absent from that day’s meeting.

Years would pass and Rhysand would forget about the runt, spending his time on more important matters. Sicing Cassian onto Illyrian rebellions, wielding Azrial to send a message. Things that needed to be attended to. 

Rhysand would be abruptly reminded of the brat when the princeling made himself the center Prythian’s attention. He caused quite the stir when he was caught in the arms of some faerie lover, exiled from Autumn, and chased down by the three that held him down. 

That little fox had scurried off to Spring court, and two out of those three siblings were reduced to nothing but to bloody piles of gore. 

The report from Azriel described it as if the two brothers were mauled and gnawed on by some sort of dangerous, wild fae. He suggested scouting out the Spring court to assure that there were no monsters from the Prison that escaped. Rhysand declined.

Rhysand knew better. 

Soon, news would reach him that Tamlin made Lucien emissary. 

Seemed that Spring’s high lord took a liking to the fox. A fondness. A favorite new pet, no doubt. 

Tamlin had always liked to take in and care for wounded animals. 

Shortly after the news reached Rhysand, Tamlin appeared at the next High Lord’s meeting with him in tow. Instead of taking his rightful and appropriate place sitting behind his Lord, standing politely and silently, the fox pulled up a chair next to him. Right at the table. Like him and the Lord were equals. Tamlin didn’t bat an eye. 

Every meeting for the next couple centuries to come would start with that, but progressively became more agonizing as time went by.

A shared look here and there. A knowing smirk tossed to one another. A quick roll of the eyes when another High Lord spat out utter nonsense and gibberish. Quick glances that held deep meanings. Kicking each other under the table to keep one from talking and inciting a political incident. 

Rhysand would glare and glare, but no looks from those viridescent eyes ever came his way. 

That brat would take and take his Lord’s attention and hoard it like the greedy little fox he was. 

Then came Hybern’s General.

Her.

Rhysand was there when Lucien would become the center of Prythian’s focus for a second time. He regarded as she carved his face, observed as she scooped out his eye with her long, sharp fingernails.  

He didn’t need to fake a smile. 

Only a few weeks would pass until every High Lord received an invitation. A ball. The Spring Court was encouraged to wear masks in solidarity with its disfigured emissary. 

Rhysand should have seen what was coming. He knew that she wanted Tamlin, he knew there was something wrong with the drinks, but it was too late to do anything about it.

A blight soon manifested herself across the land Prythian. A curse inflicted. Deals struck. 

For Tamlin, fifty years to bed a mortal woman and make her fall for him. For Rhysand, fifty years spent leashed to her, to be hers until her chosen obsession ultimately failed and took his mantle as her trophy. 

Rhysand agreed to his deal voluntarily. Tamlin finally looked him in the eye when he did so; piecing and damning. So much emotion.

…

Rhysand hated her. 

He abhorred her when he awoke to her face first thing in the morning and despised her when she was the last thing he saw before sleep took him. 

He hated sitting next to her while she was poised on her throne. He hated when she was on top of him. He hated when she was under him. He hated her marks that she carved into his back. Like lashings from a whip. 

He hated her sharp fingernails.

He hated himself for wishing that the claws of someone else were the one leaving the scars in the heat of passion. 

He hated that the only way he could get through the night as the years dragged on was to imagine that it was someone else when she defiled. Someone he loathed. 

Loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and love–

Forty-nine passed before something changed. A mortal woman. Rhysand saw her at Calanmai. He had been permitted to go under the guise of surveillance. He told himself that same reason every year that he found himself lining up next to the cave for the sacred rite. He was never chosen.

He scared off the mortal’s tormentors, and offered his hand. He saw her fear. Her thoughts raced almost as fast as her loud heartbeat. It felt good. 

He left her that night. 

He’d leave a few gifts here and there as the deadline drew near. A head. A faerie wingless. Something that would make Tamlin think about him.

He paid a visit. Her mind was like wet sand in his hands for him to play with, so brittle and fragile. He made Tamlin kneel for him. He made Lucien watch. It was supposed to feel good.

Tamlin brought himself to his knees for a mortal woman. To save his court. To save his Lucien. It wasn’t for Rhysand.

He didn’t tell Her the mortal woman’s true name. They took another and tortured her to death. Rhysand replaced her in his mind with a fox. 

The deadline came and passed. Tamlin joined him under the mountain. He didn’t look at Rhysand. It was just as infuriating as those meetings from the past. 

Then the mortal came.

She declared her love to Tamlin and She indulged the woman with three trials and a poem to answer. She was not creative, she probably gave her the poem to infuriate her obsession. He loved intricate poems and wordplay, always did, and that poem was mind-numbingly simple and easy. 

The mortal couldn’t figure it out for three months, but Rhysand figured it out the moment those words finished leaving Her mouth. He knew and understood its meaning with crystal clarity.  He wanted to laugh, cry, and rage at that. 

Lucien was lashed and mutilated for helping the mortal.

Lucien was endangered during one of the trials. 

Rhysand didn’t need to fake a smile. 

Tamlin wouldn’t respond to him. No reaction. Nothing. Just a face of stone with a far away look in his eyes. The green muted and dulled. It was enraging. 

Rhysand wanted something. Rage, sadness, repulsion, disgust. Anything.

So he latched onto that mortal. Dolled her up in paint and glorified ribbons, and paraded her around like a new toy. The faerie wine he forced her to consume took away any memory of it from her, but Rhysand never drank enough to forget. He didn’t want to forget how the rage burned in Tamlin’s eyes. 

The dangerous, wild beast who mauled and maimed chained down with a heart of stone. 

Rhysand caught him and the mortal together. He kissed her reverently. She reached his pants. He felt one of his teeth crack under the grit of his jaw. 

He interrupted. Replaced Tamlin's spot. 

Her lips tasted like his. 

The final trial came and passed. Tamlin was stabbed in the heart by an act of love. An act of freeing him. Poetic. 

They were all free. The mortal was dead. 

Rhysand didn’t want to keep looking at Tamlin’s face. The agony was so potent that it seeped into all of the cracks in his walls. 

He made them all bring her back. For him.

He saw her the following day.

Mate. 

The following few years were crowded, but Rhysand didn’t commit them to memory. Everything turned out in his favor. The 'Band of Exiles' made Rhysand snort just like he did long ago, not bothering to cover it up. Little fox scurried off again somewhere else. Rhysand had gotten his mate. He had gotten his power. His dominance stayed intact. He had it all.

Everything. 

Except he was haunted. 

Green eyes. Everywhere. Out the corner of his eye.  Rhysand could read minds but nothing compared to how they read his soul; Condemning and all-knowing. They controlled him. 

The Solstice was a breaking point. He had to get rid of them, those eyes. He had to tear out the problem by the roots. Be rid of the beast that held that much power over him. That monster.

He couldn’t do it himself. He told Tamlin to rid the world of his existence. To Die. It was the only way to be free. It had to. Please.

I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you

I have to kill you. It’s the only way to get you out of my mind and heart.

I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you

Please just die already let me be free

I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

I love you.

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

I don't know if now is exactly the right time for this, considering everything that is going on, but I've had this post in the drafts for a while, so idk. A collection of random things I've noticed after a year of the QSMP in action (though I've only been involved in the fandom since late October).

Genuinely something fairly long, and I don't want to clog up anyone's feed with this mess of a post, so >

(colors don't mean anything in particular, I just needed to break up the text for my own attention span's sake)

Regardless of the fact that the translation feature exists, QSMP members always seem to make an effort to learn a few words in the language of other members. I frequented Tubbo's streams a lot, and I can remember him looking up Korean greetings back when Acau was just joining the server. Tina, while not fluent in the language, made an effort to converse with the newer Korean members in Korean on multiple occasions, and succeeded in that regard. BadBoyHalo and Foolish both went above and beyond to try to learn bits and pieces of the other languages on the server; Cellbit has been absolutely insane in picking up the languages present on the server, and even Quackity has worked on learning Portuguese behind the scenes with Mike. They aren't the only ones either, not by a long shot, though they were some of the few I watched happening in real time. The first days of different members joining the server were filled with exchanges of words and slang, and it was always incredible to watch. I could go onto the streams of Quackity or Tubbo or Tina when the new Korean members were joining, or Hugo, and walk away with a handful of new swears and slang under my belt. I find it incredible that everyone works so hard to communicate with each other beyond only the translation feature.

The impact of the QSMP was not on the permanent members of the server alone. While this is only one example of a great amount, I've been able to watch Aimsey's intermittent streams where they work on learning Brazilian Portuguese on Duolingo, their most recent only around three weeks ago. They joined Purgatory 2 months ago, but they made lasting friends with the Brazilian members of their team, and they still work on learning the language. They still talk about taking a trip down to Brazil to meet up with their fellow Purgatory 2 teammates, alongside Tubbo. I find that to be quite sweet, if I'm being frank.

The fandom has also worked across that language barrier. QSMP Language Day was one example of this (rip, such great idea, I had so much fun but oh my goodness did that day end terribly), though I have to give a shocking amount of credit to QSMP Twitter. It's always awesome to see the posts that trickle through in different languages, just seeing people discuss different headcanons and theories that they have in different languages, like it's nothing. The translation feature has come in clutch many, many times, but a lot of people have been working to genuinely learn a language since the server started. To those of you reaching your 1 year streak on Duolingo this week, I commend you. I just reached my 60 day one, and while it's not a lot compared to what some people have, it's a pretty big deal for me. I've seen Twitch chats filled with French, German, English, Spanish, Portuguese, and Korean. In one stream I could count spotting seven separate languages being spoken in the span of roughly seven minutes (not including French, idk where you guys went but I just did not spot you once): English, Spanish, Korean, Portuguese, German, Pashto, and Russian. QSMP Language Day was amazing, even if it was cut short by news about the admins, and it's just been really cool to see people communicating in their own respective first languages.

Translation in general. I've seen an uptick of translated closed captioning in videos created by different QSMP members, and while it isn't a lot, it's incredible to see when it does occur. I have to give a shout out to both Quackity and Baghera, for their translated closed captioning. Even if it's only a few videos, it's epic to see. I also find it very interesting that the only Offline TV video I've seen with closed captioning in more than one language was the one that Quackity was in, with Spanish subtitles. It shows that the creators care enough to add the captioning, and I think that's pretty awesome. It's also nice because often adding captions in another language forces you to add captions in the language you're primarily speaking throughout the video, which can help people who need context beyond the often messy auto-generated closed captions.

Fanfiction! Fanart! The most kudosed fanfiction on AO3 in Portuguese of any type is a GuapoDuo fanfic! Almost half of the top twenty most kudosed fanfictions in Portuguese on AO3 are QSMP. I talk about it a bit more in depth here, but it's still incredible to see just how dedicated this community is. I've been involved in multiple fic-gifting events and I've seen some genuinely incredible works come out of this fandom. Heck, I've created a lot of things for the QSMP that I'm incredibly proud of. I've seen some of the most incredible creative expression ever come out of this fandom. The tiniest accounts on YouTube posting full-length, colored animatics complete with the smallest of details (shout out to Artydrawsthings on YouTube for I GOT LOVE, that was absolutely incredible), fanfic authors writing massive A.U.s that explore every character in depth, and livebloggers that will analyze each and every movement to gush over it all. The fandom that the QSMP has built has been incredible, and it's been amazing to see it grow.

Just in general, the sense of community, and overall joy the QSMP has created. You can tell that this a passion project, created by someone who genuinely cared about and believed that what they were doing was something they wanted to be doing, and managed by people who believed that the project was doing great things. I think this is what made the QSMP flourish. It was built off people who were happy on the server, and it truly accomplished what it set out to accomplish: uniting communities. I could have said this two weeks ago, three, a month, five months, half a year; it would have held true nonetheless. However, for the QSMP's first anniversary, I think it's fitting to give it this achievement.

The QSMP without a doubt has its gaping flaws. That isn't something we can ignore, and it isn't something that we should try to. However, to ignore everything that this server has done in the year it has existed would be a crime in my eyes. I'm glad to have been a part of this fandom, and maybe I can't speak Portuguese or Spanish or German and I won't ever be able to French or Korean or whatever languages the QSMP will go on to add (sorry French, rip), but I know a lot more than I did when I started, and I think that the server has done a lot of good in the roughly year it has existed.

So thank you, to the fandom, to the server, and to everyone who made this happen, from the fanartists and the egg admins to Quackity at the top of it all. It's been a great ride, and I hope that it'll be able to continue.

[foxybananaaaz]

Regarding Elucien Week

@elucienweekofficial

I've had extremely busy days the past few(hense why I haven't been able to post the daily fic rec of my completed Elucien fics leading up to today). I don't want to do a drabble a day, I want to do something proper, kind of like I did for A New Life during Lucien Appreciation Week.

So I'm gonna try to post for today, and make a week long, seven chapter fic, but if I can't, I'm gonna do what I can and post one big(ish) fic featuring all the prompts at the end of the week. I'm gonna try and make it on time, and not late, but life happens.

I hope you're all okay with this!!

For now,

Should I not make it today, in posting, if you're in the mood for a little Christmas in July, why not go check out my two Elucien Fics, I See You, and Creative Differences!!

• I See You •

Tumblr Prompt: Elucien Hallmark Movie AU.

I'm not a Christmas Hallmark Movie person, but my mum is, and she will start watching them in OCTOBER if she can. So I know the formula. This fic may be a tad rushed, but at the same time, I do enjoy how it turned out.

• Creative Differences •

Summary :: Lucien is reminded that he and Elain grew up in very different family settings when it comes time to decorate for their first Christmas living together.

I loved writing this one! There's something revealed that the Archeron sisters did with Christmas Trees growing up, that my own sister and I did the two years we lived together for the same(ish) reason! I won't say what it is here, for spoiler-ish reasons, but when you read it, you'll know immediately!

[melsie-sims]

Yes, I'm bringing back the Build-A-City Challenge!! Are you excited?? I'm so excited!!

This is an important announcement regarding some of my current save files. I'm not just screaming incoherently about my upcoming BACC, I swear.

But first... BACC! I hope everyone's as excited as I am about my upcoming save and that you don't think I'm starting something new again that I'll probably abandon (that's kind of been my M.O. lately and I hate it! I'm so sorry!). I've been considering bringing back the challenge for MONTHS though... it's probably been the most consistent Sims-related thing on my mind.

2 years ago, BACC was the challenge that really kick started my whole Simblr, and quite frankly it's the only challenge that's kept my attention for longer than 2 months (I played it for well over a YEAR!). The only reason I even stopped was because the game was so freaking glitched, to the point where my save was unplayable. But so much has changed since then, lots of those bugs have been taken care of... and I feel ready to bring on a whole new batch of founders. I hope I love them as much as I loved Jericho, Andy, Rusty, Hailey, Nineka... and yes, to some extent, even William.

With that said, I wanted to make this official. I'm going to be cancelling the Deadly Apocalypse Challenge. It was a cool concept and I had fun setting up the save... but I did not feel it.

I'm also very, very hesitantly considering cancelling Kingdom of Melwyn. I know you guys really like that one (and I do too!) but the save is already so slow and glitchy it's almost unplayable... I use a lot of the same mods as my Ultimate Decades and that runs fine, so I'm not sure what's going on there. I'm going to say it's on an indefinite hiatus for the time being. I might bring it back if it runs better down the road, or I might not.

My Ultimate Decades challenge will be back VERY soon (likely in the next week or two if I'm lucky). I still have a day's worth of Decades posts queued but I accidentally updated my game the other day (don't click 'play' without reading, there might be a sneaky patch you didn't know about) so I'll have to check through my many, many historical mods before I go into that save again.

I hope everyone's having a fantastic weekend! Happy spooky season eve and happy simming! 🧡🖤🎃

[mareenavee]

Is there anything specific about your writing which you can pinpoint that you have improved upon since starting writing? Where have you seen the most "gains"? Is there anything in particular that you'd like to tweak? (I have been thinking about this a lot for myself personally, and I thought it would be an interesting question for you.)

Hello WINTER 🫂!! Ah this is such a fantastic question! Thank you for asking it. Let's talk about level ups below the cut!!! It'll be a long post with rambling, advice and snippets.

Without further ado...

What really is a Level Up and how do I notice one?

I have been seeing a lot of you guys really level up lately with your writing. The joy and effort is super, super apparent in our circle and I am seriously proud of you guys. I'm floored reading the work all ya'll are sharing for WIP (whenever.) It's interesting to me that I can so easily see the skill gains for others but it's much tougher for me to look at mine and SEE it. There's a bit of a perception about our own craft that it's not as "good as it should be" but it's really part of a cycle. (This post here can explain it with graphics.)

At a certain point we hit an overlap where we see/evaluate craft in ways we're still working on putting into practice which can skew our perspective of our own work until we catch up with ourselves. It's important to understand this, at least for me, because it's like...partially turning a page in a book. We're still processing what's been said, but we don't know the rest of the story yet :> And the only way to get the rest of it is to keep going, and finish turning the page.

As with art -- I love looking back on old work and noticing just how much things have changed and for the better, too. Part of learning how to level up is also learning to be gentle with ourselves, which is my next point.

Something that has helped me immensely and has been so invaluable in my journey is mindfulness and mindset shifts. Instead of using negative self-talk on myself, on my writing, on my craft -- I try to reframe it into statements like "I can change how I convey x, y or z if I try this." It is not an easy thing, and is a constant journey. But it does help the level ups. I speak from painstaking experience.

For specifics about my writing -- I'll begin from when I started writing World because I have been writing for ages at this point (I started when I was 7 years old after I first read The Hobbit lol).

Gains

I have seen immense improvement with my scenery descriptions and describing how characters feel about a space and events going on in them since the beginning of World. I have aphantasia so it's really almost impossible for me to visualize anything in my head regarding scenery especially. I tend to rely on sound for this, but imagery is important. Also when I began World, I was in full challenge mode and didn't have the time or confidence to look up the references I needed. I can compare draft versions here for example.

Old Chapter 9 - First version

She took his hand and led him down past the now-recovered Gildergreen, whose ethereal flowers still bloomed in the cold of Sun’s Dusk. They walked almost to the entrance of the city, right before Adrianne’s forge. Nyenna guided him up the stairs of a little house which had stood empty for as long as anyone could remember. Recently, the old, faded boards that had scarred its surface had been replaced. She pulled a fine chain from around her neck and revealed a brass key hanging on it. She unclasped her necklace and unlocked the door of the house.  Athis looked around in awe at the tiny, perfect cottage. There was not a speck of dust, and the fire had already been lit. New dishes lined shelves that had been made by hand. Candles scattered around the room glowed like miniature stars. The light shone off of their matching rings as they walked toward the back of their kitchen. “Welcome to Breezehome,” Nyenna said. “I’ve been working on this for weeks.” “You did all this yourself? For me?” Athis asked, still stunned. He ran his hands over the rough hewn table in the back of the room almost as if he couldn’t believe it was real. “For us,” Nyenna corrected. He turned and lifted her up in one motion, spinning her around in pure joy before setting her back down. They sat down together at the table, and he kissed her gently. “Our home,” Athis said, voice thick with emotion. “Our home,” Nyenna agreed. He pulled her into a tight embrace. They sat like that for some time, warm in each other’s arms.

New Version (Now Chapter 7)

She took his hand and led him down past the now-recovered Gildergreen, whose ethereal flowers still bloomed, even in the cold of Sun’s Dusk. They walked almost to the entrance of the city, right before Adrianne’s forge. Nyenna guided him up the stairs of a little house which had stood empty for as long as anyone could remember. Recently, the old, faded boards that had scarred its surface had been replaced. She pulled a fine chain from around her neck and revealed an old brass key hanging on it. She unclasped her necklace and unlocked the door of the house. She led Athis into the tiny, perfect cottage. There was not a speck of dust, and the fire had already been lit. New dishes lined shelves that had been made by hand. The kitchen area next to the hearth in the center of the main room was outfitted with second hand, well-loved pans Hulda had given her. Tundra cotton and lavender hung from the ceiling, drying alongside other bundles of herbs and braids of garlic. Candles scattered around the room glowed like miniature stars. The light reflected off of their matching rings as they walked toward the back of their kitchen. She fell even more in love, if it was possible, as she watched him look around in awe at all her hard work. All she had achieved for them. “Welcome to Breezehome,” Nyenna said quietly. “I’ve been working on this for weeks, between everything else.” “You did all this yourself? For me?” Athis asked, still stunned. He ran his hands over the rough hewn table in the back of the room almost as if he couldn’t believe it was real. Farkas had actually found that for her. She had repaired it herself. “For us ,” Nyenna corrected. He turned and lifted her up in one motion, spinning her around in pure joy before setting her back down. They sat down together at the table, and he kissed her gently. She giggled. “Our friends helped, too.” “This is really our home?” Athis asked, voice thick. He smiled, garnet eyes shining with held-back tears. “Our home,” Nyenna agreed. He pulled her into a tight embrace. They sat like that for some time, warm in each other’s arms. She pulled another fine chain out from beneath her dress. A brand new brass key she had Adrianne make for her hung from it. She handed it to Athis. He held onto it like it was the greatest treasure he’d ever seen before he slipped the chain over his head, links catching in his hair and tugging more strands loose from the braids. She knew he’d never thought he’d be able to have a place to call his own. It was why she had been working so much, and sleeping so little. To give him this, that they could share together. It was the least she could do. She wanted a home, too. It had been so long since she had felt this kind of safety, this kind of comfort. Normalcy, of any kind. He had given her that. Freely and with his whole heart. They had already started to build a beautiful life. It was more than what she had asked for. It was everything she could have imagined and more.

Changes

I think if I were to pick one thing I'd still like to push more it'd be the visual descriptions of things for sure as mentioned above. I do rely a lot on sound to convey a lot of what I'm experiencing in my mind while I'm writing. Sound has never been an issue for me to remember or to imagine. But balancing that with actual descriptions of what the character can see is still super important and I do try very hard to do this :D

Final Thoughts

Leveling up and improving at writing takes a lot of practice generally speaking, and the drive to want to do the thing. Life can get in the way of creativity sometimes, I speak from experience. So the biggest advice I can give is to normalize being proud of your journey. Each step, past, present and where you're trying to go in the future. Your words matter more than you realize, more than the numbers will have you believe, more than your own self-talk will try and convince you otherwise.

Level ups occur because you are doing something you love, acquiring good input (ie reading widely, and writing often and noticing what works about these stories and what doesn't and asking WHY) , and making a concerted effort to try your best. And your best can look like different things at different points. The next step after that is like I said above, be gentle with yourself, especially each of your past selves. Their work got you where you are today. And where you are today will become a past self that provided a foundation on which you level up your craft.

So be kind to yourself. Keep practicing. Be mindful. When you are inspired, don't forget to write it down. Save pieces of your work for later. Review your own writing with pride.

I know it's not the easiest to see in ourselves and our work, but all that we do, all that creativity -- it's absolutely worth it. The level ups will happen. It takes time. But you'll get there.

(And Winter specifically? GIRL. You are leveling up. You got this. I see you. (: )

[missmaywemeetagain]

Broken Glass Chapter 2 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life). 

TW: Hospitals, illness, cussing. The Colonel. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers. Hurt/Comfort.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Happy Broken Glass Wednesday, y'all! I'm going to try to put out a chapter a week on Wednesdays (we shall see if I can keep up lol). Thank you for your lovely responses to Chapter 1 and for giving this little fic a chance. ❤️

This chapter dives into some heavy stuff in that I've sped up the timeline and brought some of the serious health issues that Elvis experienced more prominently later in his life to the forefront in 1960. I've always wondered what might have happened if they had recognized his many complex conditions for what they were early in his life. Truth be told, I am endlessly fascinated by the medical conundrum that was Elvis and that he lived most of his life with some pretty severe shit that at the time no one understood or had names for. Of course, I simplify the shit out of it here and try to put them in laymen's terms. I've taken some major artistic liberties with history in that there is likely no way in 1960 they would have be able to diagnose, especially so quickly, his complex conditions. Also, I am not a medical professional, so I've done my best to describe things whist moving the plot along. I HIGHLY recommend reading Sally Hoedel's book Elvis: Destined to Die Young if you are interested in the specifics regarding E's health journey and how he ended up where he did in terms of that. It's a superbly researched and somewhat heartbreaking book that I think every Elvis fan should read. It certainly inspired part of this story.

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance! 

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, and added those who requested it, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences! 

Shit.

Elvis winces as he cracks open his eyes just enough to see the sun blazing in on him. The infernal light pierces straight into his head, worsening the headache that already throbs against the inside of his skull. He quickly shuts his eyes again, cursing whoever thought it was a good idea to keep the curtains open on a sunny late winter’s day.

Gotta have Lamar cover those damn windows with something more than those flimsy-ass cutains, he thinks, already pissed off.

It takes him a moment to register where he is and why he’s there. That, in fact, the sun’s rays are rather weak and dim, making him wonder just what time it is. Holding the bridge of his nose against the pain in his head, he manages to squint his eyes open to find himself in a rather small hospital room.

Bits and pieces start to come back to him, though the days and nights run together into one big jumble. How he’d finally escaped the confines of his service in Germany, so damn excited to be coming home that he hadn’t properly slept in days. He’d just kept popping those great little pills he’d obtained from a more than generous pharmacist in Bad Nauheim and, fueled by those and pure restlessness to get back to the states, he’d managed to easily keep the smile on his face for the cameras in Germany and the UK.

But the flight over the Atlantic had him chewing his nails to the quick, his legs going a mile a minute. He feared flying ever since the emergency landing that he, Scotty, and Bill had to make in that small, dinky little plane back in the old days, when things had just started to kick up for them in the business. It was made worse by his mama being convinced that he was gonna die in a horrible, fiery crash, so he’d taken to trains and boats and cars as his main forms of transport. The U.S. Army wanted to get him home sooner rather than later, however, and if there was one thing he’d learned in the last two years, it’s that you don’t try to fight Uncle Sam.

Whether it was the flight or the pills or the lack of rest, he’d started to get queasy and dizzy on that pass over the ocean. Then, the scratchiness of his throat, the burn of his forehead, and the chilled sweat that began to stain his perfectly pressed and tailored uniform were the telltale signs of a bout of tonsilitis striking him at precisely the wrong time.

That’s where things get a little fuzzy. Between the pain behind his eyes and at the base of his skull and the heavy fatigue consuming him, it’s not coming to him as quickly as he’d like. His eyes begin to adjust to the sunlight, and he puts together enough to know whatever happened between that flight and landing in New York was enough to land him flat on his ass in the hospital.

New York. That explains all the racket, he thinks as the sounds below on the streets echo off the buildings, creating a cacophony unique to the big city.

The door to the little room swings open then, making him jump out of his skin. It’s as though his state of consciousness was magically communicated to the staff because in walks an older gentleman in a long, white coat, along with his daddy and the Colonel. Their faces are all different degrees of solemn, which sets a churning dread down into the pit of his stomach.

“Glad to see you’re awake, Mr. Presley. You’ve been asleep quite a while,” the doctor says, the man’s education only belying a hint of a New York accent. “You’ve had us a bit worried.”

“Mister Presley is my father, Doctor. Please call me Elvis,” he manages to croak out. The fire in his throat flames from the use, causing him to cough and sputter. There’s an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest that tightens with each breath, and that knot in his stomach coils ever tighter.

“Take it easy, son,” his daddy says softly, pouring a glass of water from the table against the wall and handing it to him. The action triggers a memory: a pretty, little dark-haired nurse all in white doing the same in the middle of the night.

Elvis is pulled from the memory as the doctor begins speaking in a serious tone: “Elvis, I’m Dr. Paulson. You had quite the fall in the airplane yesterday morning and hit your head. Do you remember?”

“No, sir.”

“Hmm, that isn’t unusual with a head injury of this type. You might find that your memory has some gaps, bit that is to be expected and will likely resolve with time. But your injury is not what has me concerned, young man, it’s the cause of your unconsciousness that is the real culprit, I’m afraid.”

“What do y’mean, sir? Just feels like a flare of the ol’ tonsils to me.” As soon as it’s out of his mouth, Elvis knows it’s not the whole truth. He’s never felt quite this terrible in his life, with the way he’s struggling for breath and his body aches from head to toe.

“Elvis, along with your fall, you also went into respiratory distress last night.” Suddenly, Elvis remembers the laughing fit, how he couldn’t catch his breath, how the air just couldn’t seem to fill his lungs as that pretty nurse held his hand. But he thinks maybe it happened before that, too, him gasping for breath as the roar of airplane engines rang in his ears. Icy fear runs down his spine at the remembrance of not being able to draw breath. His attention snaps back to the doctor as he continues.

“We’ve run some tests, and that, coupled with your family history…” the austere man hesitates, “Well, I’m afraid it’s not good news.”

The Colonel glances away and out the window at that, his mouth set in a frown Elvis has never seen before, but it’s the look of sadness on his daddy’s face that finally sets a wave of panic rolling through him.

“Lay it on me, Dr. Paulson,” Elvis says, steeling himself.

“You seem to have a condition that is affecting your lungs, heart, and liver, all of which are vital to our survival. Looking at your mother’s medical records, we think she may have been afflicted with the same condition, and possibly more family members on her side. In fact, it’s likely what caused her early demise,” Dr. Paulson explains.

At the mention of his mama, Elvis’ heart constricts, his barely buried grief stinging his eyes. He blinks away the tears as fast as he can, trying to follow what the doctor is saying.

“Along with that, your immune system also appears compromised, which would explain your frequent and severe bouts of fever and tonsilitis. Altogether, it’s a perfect storm that is likely to only get worse with time. Of course, medical science is improving every day, and there may be better treatments down the road…” Dr. Paulson trails off.

Dread falls over him like a heavy blanket. “What’re ya sayin’, sir?” Elvis asks quietly but is afraid to hear the answer he thinks he’s gonna get.

Dr. Paulson takes a deep breath. “Well, I’m sorry to say, but it’s likely these conditions are going to shorten your lifespan considerably.”

The words hang in the air like a suffocating dark cloud. His daddy’s face crumples and he turns away, while the Colonel winces—actually winces—at the words.

“So, y-y-you’re saying this gonna k-k-kill me? That I-I-I’m gonna die?” His vocal incredulousness covers how the sheer panic overcoming him sets his heart galloping. “I’m only 25, Doc…y-y-you gotta be w-wrong ‘bout this. I just spent two damn years in the Army, and they sure as hell didn’t say nothin’ about no ‘condition’!”

“This condition is very rare, Elvis, and we are learning more about it every day. I’m not saying it’ll be today, but considering the episode you’ve just had, this disease will factor critically into your overall health and survival going forward. It has already started a cascade of chronic health issues of varying severity that will worsen as you age, and in the end, this combination of factors will almost certainly be the thing that kills you.”

Hearing those words out of the doctor’s mouth sets him numb with disbelief. This can’t be fucking happening. Not when everything is gettin’ set to be back on track. Not when I got so much left to do.

“No disrespect, Doctor, but I-I-I don’t accept that. I w-want a second opinion,” Elvis shakes his head, the words popping out of his stubborn mouth before he has much chance to think on them, to actually consider the possible truth of them.

But a deep part of him knows.

He knows his mama died too young and that her illness didn’t make sense. He knows he’s got family who died before their time. But most of all, he knows how he feels, and something ain’t right.

“Colonel Parker and your father have said as much, so I will contact some specialists to meet you in Memphis upon your return. But in some ways, young man, this is a good thing,” Dr. Paulson intones softly.

“Now, how the hell d’ya figure that?!” Elvis rasps out, nearly belligerent. He’s not one to be disrespectful, usually, especially to a man of such education, but he feels like shit and the blazing red heat of his temper pushes in before he can stop it.

Dr. Paulson blinks at him with his brows raised, and Elvis feels a wave of shame crash over his already rolling fear and anger. His mama didn’t raise him to talk to people that way. He takes a breath.

“I-I-I’m sorry, sir,” Elvis apologizes deferentially. “I-I’m just h-havin’ a hard time with what y-you’re saying, is all.”

“That’s understandable. What I meant by it being a ‘good thing’ is that now we know what we are dealing with and can set you up with lifestyle changes that could both improve your quality of life and perhaps extend it. We can set you up with constant care in order to avoid…things taking a downturn.”

Elvis’ head is spinning, pounding, making him feel wildly out of control. “Lifestyle changes? Constant care? I ain’t no invalid, Dr. Paulson, I’ll tell you for sure.” He nearly growls the promise as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, meaning to walk the hell out of here and show this doctor just how wrong he is.

In the back of his mind, he realizes instantly how stupid it sounds, considering that the moment he stands, his entire body betrays him and sends him careening to the floor, if not for the doctor and his daddy grabbing him under each arm and hauling his ass back into the bed. There, he is faced with the terrible reality that he’s sicker than a dog with the world spinning out from under him in more ways than one.

“None of us want this to be true, son, but maybe you should listen to the doctor,” his father says quietly in his ear, putting a hand on his shoulder.

This is the last thing Elvis wants to do. He wants to kick and scream and rally himself well. I can prove them all wrong, he thinks, if only he could stop the world from spinning and his breath from wheezing and his body from aching.

Fuck.

Elvis can’t bear to look at anyone, choosing to stare up at the high, vaulted ceiling, blinking away the blast of dark spots in his eyes as he tries to catch his damn breath.

“What’s next?” he finally wheezes out, counting the dots on the ceiling tiles to keep him from floating away.

“Well, first we need to keep you in the hospital as long as it takes to get you stabilized before you can go home to Memphis.”

“Absolutely not!” the Colonel exclaims from near the window. “We’ve already kept the press at bay long enough with talks of flight delays and other nonsense. We can’t hold them back much longer. You listen here, that boy needs to make appearances, and he needs to look the picture of health doing so, or he’s not going to have a career to go back to!”

The doctor scoffs. “Mr. Parker, look at him—Elvis’ career is the least of his worries.”

“It’s Colonel Parker, Mr. Paulson,” he hisses, “and his career is most certainly your concern. You have your expertise, and I have mine, and I’m telling you right now, I didn’t spend two years keeping him in the public eye despite his service to have you flush it down the toilet. I’m sure you don’t want to be the doctor that doomed Elvis Presley. The one who ripped him away from his legions of loyal fans.” The threat is crystal clear, and by the resulting silence, the doctor seems somewhat shaken.

“Sir, there will be no career if the young man is dead.” The doctor’s words hang heavy, and Elvis closes his eyes, willing himself to be anywhere but here. But there is no escaping this. No amount of money, talent, or fame is gonna get him out of this one.

Finally, he brings himself to speak, “I ain’t givin’ up my career, Dr. Paulson. But I also feel like something the cat dragged in last night and can’t get outta this damned bed. So, we’re gonna need to figure out a compromise.”

Dr. Paulson stares at Elvis and the Colonel like they’ve lost their minds. Vernon stays characteristically silent.

“Anything short of you staying here until you at least recover from this episode will be against my medical advice. You are in too fragile a state to consider anything else,” Dr. Paulson says, almost pleadingly. “And with this condition, if you try to jump back into the breakneck lifestyle of a superstar, your life will be short indeed.”

Elvis sets his jaw. “Sir, no offense, but you don’t know me very well. I can do just about anythin’ I set my mind to. We’ve all worked very hard to get me where I am, and I ain’t ready to give that up just yet. I got too much to do. Now tell me, what do I gotta do to get you to let me outta this hospital?”

The doctor looks at him and shakes his head, silent. Finally, he relents. “First off, you have to be able to get out of bed and stand on your own two feet without collapsing.”

“Fine. I can do it.” Even the Colonel looks at him with a tinge of disbelief on that one. “Maybe not this instant, but I’ll do it.”

“Secondly, if you are able to do that and still choose to leave against advice, I recommend having a doctor with you at all times, someone who can monitor your vitals and give you care when you take a turn for the worse,” the doctor concedes, “which you most certainly will.”

“Done,” Elvis agrees quickly. Anything that will get him out of here and back home to his life.

“Now, listen here, my boy, there is no reasonable way to spin a doctor following you everywhere without the press having a field day. You could lose everything the minute the public knows you’re…sick,” the Colonel points at him, faltering on that last word.

He means ‘dying’ not ‘sick,’ an unwelcome voice in the back of his head adds. But Elvis understands the Colonel’s point. Even as private as he is, it’ll be difficult to go to a movie set or recording studio with a stuffy doctor in tow and not have anyone find out. Shit.

Dr. Paulson looks exasperated and crosses his arms. Colonel just glares. But it’s his daddy that finally pops up in the uncomfortable silence.

“What…what about a nurse? Elvis always has girls hanging around him…” Vernon trails off.

Silence fills the air. Elvis blinks slowly and can see the wheels turning in Colonel’s head, the way they do when he’s about ready to come up with the perfect plan, the perfect snow job.

“It…could work, if we get one young and pretty enough. Don’t love it because I wanted to keep Elvis publicly available in the eyes of his fans—no attachments—but looks like we may not have a choice. Better you taken than single and…” The Colonel chooses not to finish that sentence, but they all know the ending he’s avoiding, what he’s choosing not to say.

He races to continue, “But you’ve got to keep up appearances in public, my boy, since she’ll have to be a steady fixture in your life. No more frolicking around with every pretty thing with legs. No more girlfriends in every county, state, and country from here to Timbuktu. No one, girlfriends included, can know what we’re up to or all could be lost. Even your wild friends are going to have to believe this is real for it to work.”

Elvis’ heart begins to race with the thought of being so thoroughly confined to a relationship, especially with some random woman who he might not even be attracted to, physically or otherwise, even if it is just for show. He’s always hated the Colonel being in his private romantic business, knowing that the man has managed to somehow get rid of more than a few of his steadies with some unknown manipulations to keep him “unattached.” So, for Colonel to agree to this plan, Elvis realizes just how dire the situation is.

And God knows, he already has more girlfriends than he can handle as it is. He has yet to be reunited with Anita, pines for Priscilla from afar, and dragged Elisabeth from Germany and sent her ahead to Graceland, not to mention the multitude of other flings he indulges in. But he loves women, to a fault, and he doesn’t want to be tied down to just one (no matter how he tells his girls otherwise). Worrying his lower lip in his teeth, he realizes he doesn’t have much of a choice. He’ll have to find a way to make it work.

The Colonel must sense this from him. “Oh, come on now, my boy, we all know your talent for juggling women is near as good as your talent for performing. Think of it as a challenge to hone your acting craft. There are worse things than being made to spend time with a pretty girl,” Colonel drawls, daring to wink at him.

Elvis feels sick to his stomach with the dishonesty of it and with the oppressive feeling that his life is no longer his own. To be fair, he’d been feeling like the walls were closing in, pressing him into submission, since the moment he received his draft notice, but this...this is different. The hell of this knowledge strokes awake a deep, dark sliver of him that has always believed his time here is destined to be limited, that no one should achieve his level of fame and success without paying a terrible price. But the worst is the horrible thought that perhaps it should’ve been him who was supposed to die in the womb and not Jesse, and that all this had been a mistake from the start. Some sort of cosmic joke.

No, God wouldn’t do that. God has a plan. He has to, he thinks, banishing the shameful thought back into the dark recesses of him mind from whence it came. A lump forms in his parched throat and he gulps, trying to get it down, trying to chase away the demons that threaten at the edges of his vision. Please God, please, he prays, though he’s not entirely sure what for. Perhaps the prayer begs to know that this is all one of his damn night terrors, or maybe it’s to chase away the horrors inside his mind that seek to consume him whole.

A small part of him is tempted to throw in the towel and to just fade into obscurity. Lord knows he’s already achieved more of his fair share of fame and fortune, more than most achieve in a lifetime. Maybe he should just live out the rest of his now-shortened life in peace and quiet. Start a family with one of his girls like his mama so desperately wanted. He realizes this is what she feared all along—like she’d had some sort of maternal premonition that he had been living on borrowed time from the start.

But that feels like a prison of another sort. No, he loves music too damn much, the way it tingles in his soul, clicking into place like the pieces of a complex puzzle that only he has the ability to complete, and the performing electrifies him in such an addictive and indescribable way that he can’t fathom trying to give it up. And beyond all that, he knows he’s got it in him to be a great actor if given the chance.

Quittin’ isn’t an option, he thinks, even if it kills me. Better to burn bright doin’ what I love rather than have nothin’ to live for.

Blood pounds at the inside of his skull like a ticking clock, his mind spinning with the fear and rage of it all. He is in no space to make these decisions, he realizes, but because so many want him to keep going, to keep working, to keep living, he knows what he’s gotta do.

Elvis finally nods his agreement, adding pointedly, “As long as I get a say in who she is. There’s gotta be chemistry for this to work.”

Dr. Paulson shakes his head and throws his hands in disbelief at this insane plan. “I think the most important thing is that she is competent, not her looks or ‘chemistry.’ Not to mention, she’ll have to be single and willing to give up her entire life to not only care for you 24/7 but to also pretend to be your girlfriend. I hope you have plenty of money to throw at this problem, Elvis.”

The Colonel grins wickedly. “I think you underestimate the power Elvis has over young ladies, Doctor. I have no doubt you’ll help us find someone suitable.”

“In the next few days? You must be joking,” Dr. Paulson huffs.

The stabbing pain behind Elvis’ eyes gets worse with these considerations brought to light. Yes, he does well with women, but the reality of any girl in her right mind agreeing to such conditions feels slim.

It feels serendipitous, then, that it happens to be this exact moment when you walk through the door.

“L-L-Little bird,” Elvis says, his nickname for you somehow, by the grace of God, popping into his muddled brain the instant he sees you. The name stutters from his lips almost in awe.

God has a plan.

The rest of the men turn in unison to stare at you. Elvis watches as you stop short, your intelligent sky-blue eyes going wide with surprise, annoyance, and apprehension at the intimidating scene before you.

Your mouth opens with a retort, then closes quickly at the strange silence that follows. The men take you in, from head to toe, as you stand frozen in the doorway like a deer in headlights.

After a moment, you seem to remember why you came in the first place, shaking off the uncomfortable gazes of the men and finally clear your throat to speak. “Excuse me, I didn’t realize…I-I’m sorry to interrupt, but Nurse Hunt sent me to find you, Dr. Paulson. She said it was urgent.”

Dr. Paulson, Vernon, and Colonel one by one turn their heads to look at Elvis. Colonel’s wicked little smile turns the corners of his mouth when he sees the way Elvis’ eyes take you in, a little bit of life returning to his pale cheeks.

Of course, Elvis liked you from the moment he’d laid eyes on you yesterday. With your deep brunette hair and stunningly big, bright blue eyes, you instantly piqued his interest, as you fit his usual type well. Your olive skin and striking features are different though, and remind him a bit of a young Sophia Loren, the beautiful Italian actress who he’d met on the movie studio lot a few years back.

In the looks department, you’d fit the role quite well.

The only problem he can see is that you’d made your distain for him quite clear last night.  

“I’ll be right there, Nurse,” Dr. Paulson finally says, realizing you were waiting for any sort of response beyond staring. Relieved, you scurry away as quickly as you’d arrived.

“What do we know about Nurse—” Colonel starts the moment you leave.

“Cannava,” Elvis and Dr. Paulson say in tandem. Elvis is surprised your name falls off his tongue so easily, especially with how clouded his memory is.

“She’s the youngest to ever graduate our program here at Bellevue, and for that itself she is a standout. But being so young, she is still relatively inexperienced despite her excellent training,” the doctor warns, and seeing the look on the Colonel’s face wanting more, he continues, “Beyond that, I’d have to ask around.”

“She’ll never do it,” Elvis interjects with disappointment. “She doesn’t like me much.”

“Nonsense, my boy, I’ve never seen you anything but persistent in your need and ability to win a woman over,” Colonel says encouragingly, patting Elvis’ hand. “And perhaps it will work in our favor in her ability to remain…professional around you. Use that winning charm of yours to win her over. That and a healthy sum she can’t refuse.”

Elvis doesn’t even know your first name, but he can’t help the fact that he’s been drawn to you since the moment you met. The little flutter of his heart, the revealing sign of his already budding infatuation, loves the idea of you being his.

But she won’t be mine, not really, he reminds himself.

Either way, it’s a challenge he’s not quite sure he’s up for in his weakened state, but time is running short, and he doesn’t have much of a choice. He’s going to have to figure out a way to convince you this is a good idea.

“Find out everything you can,” Colonel orders the doctor, “and then bring her to me.”

What the Colonel wants, the Colonel gets.

And Elvis has the distinct feeling he’s already in over his head and is taking you with him, willing or not.

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[khaotungsfirst]

khaotungsfirst’s 2023 BL recap

Alright, I know I'm late but it’s the time of the year again where I post my favorite BLs of the year even though no one cares about my opinion lmao. Buckle up cause this is gonna be long...

Top Thai BLs

I Feel You Linger In The Air

What a breath of fresh air this was! Not only was the romance top-notch, I was also really invested in the plot and what was happening to other characters. The wlw sideplot felt natural and not shoehorned in and was what we all deserved. I'm just so happy to have experienced this masterpiece!!

Only Friends

Came for SandRay, stayed for BostonNick (and SandRay). Though it had its ups and downs I can't help but love it. There was so much messy drama that I was LIVING for every single week and experiencing that along with the rest of BL tumblr was the best thing. We desperately need more shows like this in the BL world.

Laws of Attraction

Ridiculous SFX could not deter me from loving this show. It's dramatic, it's over the top and it's ridiculous at times but it's crime so of course I liked it. Bonus points for cutting from the villain being killed in prison straight to the main couple's wedding. We love to see it!

Top Korean BLs

Our Dating Sim

This was my last watch of the year when I was looking for something that I could squeeze in without many expectations. How could I have guessed that it would turn out to be my favorite Korean BL of the year? Though the story is nothing new or groundbreaking, I enjoyed the main actors chemistry so so much. Korean BLs, to me, often feel a little stiff but they managed to make it feel so real and easy, I loved it.

The Eighth Sense

Oh, this was something else... High quality cinematography and high-quality story-telling. In the end I went into it with expectations that were too high to meet but still, such a touching BL that will definitely move you (maybe even to tears).

Why R U? (KR)

A show held together by three pieces of duct tape but enjoyable nonetheless. I don't think it's comparable to its Thai original. Yes, the plot is more or less the same but you gotta see it as its own thing. I do love me a panicked gay/confident gay pairing so it already had me from there. And let's talk about the kisses cause !!!

Top Japanese BLs

Tokyo in April is…

Friends to lovers my beloved!!! The PINING, the ACHING, the YEARNING! YEARS OF IT!! How can I not love it? Yes, this was a bit of a heavier BL but it was done SO WELL and the payoff from all the trauma was so satisfying.

My Personal Weatherman

What can I say? Japan just knows how to do it. In any other show the miscommunication between the mains would be annoying as hell. But the chemistry between these two was just off the charts. Nothing more to say.

I Cannot Reach You

Friends to lovers my beloved!!! the sequel. This time less traumatising but just as sweet and moving. A cute and innocent watch.

Top Taiwanese BLs

Kiseki: Dear to Me

The way I IMMEDIATELY knew ChenAi were gonna be my new hyperfixation as soon as I saw them in episode 1... They just have that je ne sais quoi, that special 'make me fall to the floor and bite my fist' quality to them. BZY and FZR also had their insane moments and in combination with everything that ChenAi were doing this show just hit the right spot. Can't wait to rewatch it.

Stay by My Side

Was it ridiculous? Yes. Was it cute tho? Also yes. Nothing I would rewatch but it did make me laugh a lot so there's that.

Top Chinese “BL”

Stay With Me

It’s not like we have much of a selection regarding Chinese BLs (cries in when will Eternal Faith, Immortaily and Winner is King be released from the dungeons?) but HOLY SHIT did they deliver with this one. I didn't know this was specifially made for international release when I went into it so I was in for a few surprises here and there. And I'm gonna say it: it's better than Addicted Heroin. The way their love story developed just has me screaming internally I LOVE THEM SO MUCHHHHH!!!

Top 3 overall

Kiseki: Dear to Me

Stay With Me

I Feel You Linger In The Air

Top pre-2023 BLs (that I watched in 2023)

The Eclipse (2022)

Can you believe that I only just joined the FirstKhao nation this year? I completely skipped this show last year NOT KNOWING what a masterpiece I missed out on. Finally a highschool BL with a capital P Plot! And the enemies to lovers was so so good!!! AkkAyan you will always be famous!

Love Mechanics (2022)

I'm not a fan of cheating stories at all but DEAR GOD these two!!! It's the YinWar magic that pulled me in and will never let me go. The constant back and forth did get a bit annoying at some point but I won't complain when we also got things like the shower scene...

Roommates of Poongduck 304 (2022)

Can ZB1 disband faster so Jiwoong can return to BL acting please? I jest, I jest... kinda. I loved the relationship dynamic in this one so much because they both held power over the other (and both were petty bitches about it lmao).

My Gear and Your Gown (2020)

The girls that get it get it, the girls that don't don't :) Falling for MarcPawin during Dangerous Romance and THEN realising that they're the mains for this show immediately put it on top of my watchlist and I'm not ashamed to say I liked it. It's very 2020 but sometimes that's all you need.

Favorite currently airing BLs

I did not want to consider these for the final rankings because they’re still airing and could theoretically still pull a Game of Thrones S7 on us but I have really high hopes for them.

Cherry Magic

HELLO???!?!? I LOVE ACHI SO F U CK ING MUCHHHH!!! And the way Karan is in love with him so gently and so deeply I- AAAAAHHHHHH. This is gonna be my new obsession I can feel it!!

Last Twilight

At first I didn't even plan on watching this because I didn't think JimmySea were a pairing I would enjoy (Vice Versa has been on hold for over a year lol). But GODDAMN did they prove me wrong! So soft, so precious... P'Aof you did it again!

The Sign

What a hodgepodge of genres... One second you're chasing a murderer, the next you're having sex fantasies about your coworker and then you're having visions about your past life with your soulmate (who is also said coworker). Love it!

Most disappointing BLs

Be Mine Superstar

I was so excited for a new JaFirst series as I really enjoyed Don't Say No, and Remember Me didn't quite quench my thirst. But this... if this was a BL then why did we spend SO MUCH TIME on the beef between the agents?? Shit was annoying af. Moreover, I really could not deal with Ja's character. I know a lot of people liked his innocent puppy-like behaviour but it was just too much for me. The only redeemable thing was the side pairing but even that turned into a hot mess quite quickly. Had to drop this at some point after I started watching it on 1.5 speed and realized that I'm torturing myself.

Low Frequency

Exciting concept but stiff acting and a plot that dragged on. Dropped halfway through.

Bon Appetit

It's not bad but just straight up boring. I finished it but it didn't leave any lasting impressions. I know you can do better, Korea...

Most anticipated QLs of 2024

Vampire Project (BOUNPREM VAMPIRE BL!!! I CAN DIE HAPPY ONCE THIS IS FINALLY ON MY SCREEN)

Jack & Joker (War finally getting his villain role let's fucking goooo)

IFYLITA Season 2 (PLEASE GOD MAKE IT HAPPEN P L E A S E also special ep WHEN????)

Spare Me Your Mercy (i will always be a slut for crime BLs)

23.5 Degrees (give it to us!!! LET US INNNN!!!)

My Love Mix-Up TH (istg if gmmtv doesn't learn from this whole cherry magic debacle...)

Eyes on you (even more spy/mafia/crime BL yes and thank you!)

Uranus 2324 (the production?? the story?? the cinematography??? I need it NOW)

Red Peafowl (this is either gonna be really bad or really good and I'm curious to see which one it's gonna be)

(I had Stay With Me S2 on this list until it was announced as cancelled on Jan 1st 😭😭 I wil never recover)

2023 Superlatives

Most iconic intro: Only Friends (long live First's thighs)

Quickest drop: Middleman’s Love (i was rooting for you Jade!)

Best supporting character: Tin's grandma - Laws of Attraction (sweetest lil supportive grandma who didn't deserve any of this)

Best Worst character: Jaewon's girlfriend - The Eighth Sense (I think this is the only bitchy ex-gf of the entire year and I'm glad about it)

Best side pairing: ChenAi - Kiseki: Dear to Me (do they even count as a side pairing anymore? If not then I'd go with GuyNawa - Dangerous Romance)

Best could have been if the writers wanted us to: NameSaifah - Dangerous Romance (no it was NOT enough!)

Biggest green flag: Win - Between Us (asking for consent is so sexyyy) / Yai - IFYLITA (he's the softest, most caring boy who's so so in love)

Biggest red flag (affectionate): Hira - Utsukushii Kare (my boy highkey needs therapy but Kiyoi wouldn't want it any other way so we'll let it slide) / Lom - Wedding Plan (the way he went about things was... questionable but I understand his reasoning behind it so I can't hate him)

Biggest red flag (derogatory): Boeing - Only Friends (bro just wanted to fuck with - literally and metaphorically - every and anyone and I respect that but dude...)

Most iconic kiss: Lee Won/Ji Oh - Why R U? KR (this was so fucking unexpected but they ate and left absolutely no crumbs)

Most iconic makeout scene: YangJai - Love in Translation (IN A GROCERY STORE?? FINGERS IN MOUTH??!)

Most iconic sex scene: TopBoston - Only Friends (oohhh the DRAMA of it all… truly gagged everyone with this)

Best unhinged horny scene: Jom - IFYLITA (I will never be able to look at massage oil without thinking about this...)

Best gays on a bike scene: Stay With Me (like… facing each other…. grinning at each other.... give me a minute)

Newest addition to the poor lil meow meow collection: Ai Di - Kiseki: Dear to Me (my feral murder kitten I LOVE YOU SO MUUUUUUCHHH)

And there we have it! What a year it's been... I can't wait for 2024 to be just as wonderful, unhinged, crazy and amazing. If you've read until this point I wanna thank you for enduring all that and also for supporting me and my edits throughout this year. Whether we're moots or not I truly appreciate every single person that interacts with me on this hellsite 🫶❤️

[elizabethplaid]

a fair number of notes - june 19th, 2024

-- Good counseling session today. Relayed some of the theories and conversations I've had with my dad and phone-friend. She noted that I expressed a lot less guilt than I used to, in previous years, regarding these "down swings".

-- Dad picked up Rx meds and a Dunkin drink for me. Came home right before counseling started, so I took comfort in my frozen drink.

-- Dad also installed the AC window unit in my bedroom. It was 93F today, so it's been very handy. The hottest it's been otherwise lately were a couple days of 84F.

-- After a post-counseling nap, we went to the grocery store. First time driving the "new" car, aside from just backing up in the driveway. It feels good, spacious; thin seat belt is unnerving.

-- --- Snagged some of my sparkling water and novelty sodas. Our main goal was our usual 2L sodas and a cucumber for pasta salad tonight. Ugh, just realized I forgot to get ice cream.

-- --- Dad messed with the AC controls, within 2 miles of driving home. I didn't say anything to stop him, because I thought we'd be home really quick. Nah, fuckin' distracting. Had to move the vents off me really really quick. I can't remember our exact words, but he apologized for being distracting. I said something to the effect of, "When I'm feeling this bad, pushing myself like this, everything is a distraction."

-- --- Really, I thought I felt okay until the air flow changed. When it did, I realized how thin a grip I had on things. But I had been confident and handled a lot of stimuli very well. And I'm still in good spirits!

-- For this excursion, I felt happy enough to throw on my jewelry, jeans, and one of my new bras. It fits well for the band, but the cups are small and squish me flat. Not bad for a lounging bra, especially for $10. It's comfy enough.

-- --- It's been almost 2 weeks, but I haven't cut off the tags from my new clothe yet. Need to do that and throw them in a load of cold laundry. Need to do laundry in general.

-- --- My goal is to do a bunch of little cleaning chores, bit by bit. Just clean the sink in one visit; clean something else in the next, etc. I'm tempted to make a list, to better organize my thoughts. But I'm already nibbling at things, so... I don't really -need- to make a list.

=========

-- Phone friend is fighting really bad allergies. They work outdoors, and the pollen provoked a really strong migraine. We've already discussed cautions of heat versus meds, staying hydrated, trying to stave off migraines. They've switched to new eye drops, and it seems to be helping.

-- --- Feeling sick and fatigued, we had to cut our last call short, and they skipped some of the morning/evening greetings. They worried about seeming too distant lately, and I'm like...

Really, I've been caught up in my own head, with all my sensory overload stuff. I'm chilling with my own vibes, feeling fine by myself. Never even occurred to me that things could be interpreted as us being a bit distant.

My reaction also reminded me of the apple juice story from Hannibal Buress. "... so caught up in the euphoria...," forgetting the practical reasoning.

I replied, explaining that we're good. I understand when life (and fatigue!) get in the way. I mean, I wanted to cancel this week's call, because my brain isn't good with speaking out loud. (I could hear myself talking in circles, repeating myself last week, because I space-out mid-sentence.)

=====

Anyway, thanks for sticking around reading all these notes. And if you didn't, if you just clicked "like" because you like me, that's fine too.

I started writing these notes for a few specific people, back when I was really depressed and withdrawn. Now, I write them to help me remember what I've been up to lately. As always, I really appreciate your support, friends.

[alexanderlightweight]

Hey can I ask something?

If you prefer to answer this in private message that's really fine, but it seemed somehow rude to send it to you in PM 🤔.

Quite a while ago (could be months really, live has been quite hectic for me lately) I sent you an ask about 2 songs I felt suited Magnus' and Alec's POV respectively for quite a few of your 'verses. It wasn't necessarily meant as a prompt but I had been curious about your opinion on them.

you never seemed to have posted about it and now I was wondering if tumblr ate my ask or if something in the ask itself brought up something bad for you (just so I can avoid that in the future) or if perhaps it's a third option I hadn't even thought of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

either way, thanks for all your glorious writing work! it's a thing of beauty (aka to me it's a joy forever!)

hey!

so you're absolutely okay asking and i'll answer publically because i have like a dozen song prompts in my inbox and drafts and I'm sure there are others curious but jsyk, it's okay to send a pm asking stuff. i don't find it rude cause i know from experience that sometimes its less nerve racking than sending an ask

i know its different for everyone but just putting it out there ^_^

so music is really hit or miss for me. i'll listen to the same playlists and artists for a couple years without expanding because the sensory input of new songs can be a little much. i don't really have a way to vet whether or not the music will be too much for me and things have been so busy and (noisy and loud and overwhelming) that i haven't really tried to listen to new music in a couple of months.

@saryn-prime has to listen to a lot of their music on headphones instead of n speakers and oftentimes i'll listen to the same song on repeat for hours. if i'm overstimulated even a song i love can set off a migraine and certain tunes or tempos can send my mood spiraling, rising or plummeting without my say so

so (especially when i want to actually kind of really explore a song and give it a chance and also enjoy it in regards to malec or writing) i'm saving like the dozen songs for when i have the spoons to process and possibly enjoy the songs.

Saeth turned on music earlier and i lasted two songs before i was asking them to turn it to safe playlist (which they immiedately did).

btw i love getting music and song reccomendations in regards to malec and shadowhunters or in general. i've been inspired for some really fun fics and ideas, but atm my brain isn't up to that kind of processing :/

pray to the hunters i like to write with the song playing in the background but i cant currently handle the tempo/voices/percussion mix so i haven't been writing or playing it

so i have them and probably in a few weeks or a month my brain will be back to processing music appropriately and i can enjoy the songs shared with me

i hope this makes sense

<3 lumine

[kelleah-meah]

My Year-End/New Year Tarot Readings

I know it's already been a new year for a full week now, but as you can imagine, I've been a little busy trying to start the year on a good note. I'm not sure if I succeeded, but I did give it a shot.

Anyway, I did something a little different this year regarding my annual tarot reading to welcome in the new calendar. Instead of doing a New Year's reading on January 1st, I did one on December 31st in the evening.

Then I did another reading on January 2nd after I finished celebrating the new year with my usual first meal of the year tradition. Basically, after sleeping in on January 1st due to a late night before, I spent most of my morning preparing the meal, then relaxing, eating, writing in my journal, and making plans for the week.

So I kind of created a book-end tarot reading that helped me say goodbye to 2023, give me time to focus on myself on the first of the year, then say hello to 2024.

So here are the results of both of those readings. Because they are rather long, I'm just going to share the cards I pulled without my interpretations for now. This post is already pretty long, and I don't want to bore anyone anymore than I already have.

Here's the tarot spread I did on New Year's Eve (Sunday night), it's called the New Years Tarot Spread:

Now as usual, I changed the layout to fit my space, so here is what it looked like before I turned them over to read them:

And here is what the spread told me after I turned all the cards over:

Details about this reading ...

Opening Message from Spirit King of Pentacles

How to Best Achieve your Goals and Dreams The Moon

Actions to Take This Year 5 of Swords

Departing Energies (let go ...) Page of Cups

Main Theme of This Year Page of Pentacles

Future Opportunities & Energies King of Cups

Potential Obstacles & How to Overcome Them The Hierophant

Talents You'll Be Expressing This Year 10 of Wands

Parting Message (what to know about your year ahead) 8 of Pentacles

-----

The following day, I kind of focused on easing into the new year on January 1st. As I mentioned, it was a day filled with cooking, writing, chatting with my mom, and just ruminating on what lies ahead.

But after I recuperated on the 1st, on January 2nd, I started my day with this spread, which is called the New Year's Overview:

And here is what it told me, again the layout is adjusted for the space:

Here are the details of this reading ...

You & your vision for the new year 10 of Cups

Baggage to leave behind Ace of Cups

Wisdom from the old year to carry forward Ace of Swords

A resolution to make & stick to 4 of Pentacles

Future challenges & how to deal with them 10 of Wands

Hidden blessings coming to you Queen of Wands

How to foster healthier, loving relationships 6 of Wands

Who will you become by the end of the year King of Wands

How to make the most of the new year The Moon

____

Overall, I'm very happy with both of the readings. They both gave me a lot of food for thought, and I've already done another reading for Shadow Work purposes.

Of course, all of this is meant to help give me clarity, not necessarily to tell me what the future holds. Because at the end of the day, the final choices are mine and the world is constantly in flux, changing variables as we speak.

The only thing I know for certain is that 2024 is going to be one helluva year.

So here's to everyone having a better year than the last (unless you're a fascist, then I hope you get the help you need). Happy New Year and bring on the Year of the Dragon!

[transannabeth]

would you mind if i ask how you have the energy to do all you do? you stream games, do art, run and participate in zines, go to cons, podcast, and work irl??? (i think i may have missed a few there lol) where do you find the energy to learn all these things, and make time for for all these things? i can barely think at the end of the day, let alone learn new things lmao

i got this the other day while i was freaking out about deadlines which honestly makes it so funny. because one of those deadlines was a button that says 'no spoons' on it

so like a very important part of this answer is that i just started working full time, and before that, i was an online college student—even before the pandemic. i spent most of my college experience doing online schooling which genuinely left me a lot more time because i wasn't commuting or walking to class

my workload is shifting because i now work a 9-5(:30), but i have a hybrid job where i'm in-office one day a week. it's a long commute, but i only have to do it once

on top of THAT, i'm incredibly privileged to live at home with my parents, and they don't require me to pay bills or rent, so i can focus on student loans and personal bills / payments

those things have given me a LOT more free time than most people have. but you'll also notice that i post way less writing than i did in high school and my first year of college. that's because i don't have enough energy to keep that up

i procrastinate pretty hardcore, which all my friends will tell you, and i absolutely overwork and overload myself. i don't really "take breaks" from things, but when i do, i crash hard. (you'll sometimes see me talking about extreme fatigue and vertigo.. yeah....) i always need to be doing the most, which is how i ended up doing so many zines—if projects are at a slow point, i'll feel like i'm not doing enough and sign up for a ton of stuff to feel something and then have 8 deadlines at once and panic

(in that regard, i'm very lucky to have worked with many understanding teams that give me generous extensions)

and yet i STILL spend a lot of time lying around doing nothing, and struggling to get things done. i put off a lot of more important things sometimes (self-care, sleep, cleaning) to mostly do nothing

how do i get things done? deadlines stare me in the face and i panic

i am trying to get better about this, but the fact is i deal with a weird combination of needing so many things to be happening or i get even more depressed, but also relatively common fatigue that makes it a struggle to do anything so

i wish i had a better answer for you, but it's genuinely a struggle day to day to get things done and i've had to sacrifice other things i want to be doing so i can follow through on my other responsibilities (you'll notice i haven't talked a ton about original writing lately......)

most of my motivation is anxiety induced, even though these are things i really enjoy doing. the podcast and streaming are generally really nice because i am forced to slow down for a bit and get to hang out with friends. but you'll notice they're delayed in uploads and vods because i hate doing that part

this answer makes no sense because i don't know how i do it and i do not think i'm doing it well. but you're not alone in being unable to think, that's for sure