#Lush Valentines Collection

[wallflowerglitter]

Love Token bubble bar

[honeytonedhottie]

HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE february edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

this is a new thing im doing on my blog that i think you'd all like very much called honeys magazine/catalog. basically like a monthly inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion. a magazine for it girls ✨

i've had so much fun putting together the february catalog and i'd love to hear feedback of things that you'd like to see in the next edition. and now, please enjoy the it girl magazine ✨

FEBRUARY FASHION ;

february is full of silks and lace. feminine muted colors like beiges, whites, and pinks. this february i've rly been into tweed dresses. accessories that i've been loving this february include pearls, stockings, and ribbons.

a lot of the clothes that i've been eyeing are things that are more light in fabric and in color. such as cute camisoles with lace trim and i've rly been into the chic look this february as i've mentioned before.

when it comes to jewelry and accessories i always love to layer and be excessive and even though during february i've been obsessed with the chic look, i always add lots of accessories. if not something huge like bracelets or necklaces, i'll be excessive with rings or something smaller.

in general HYPERFEMININE and super cute and girly clothes have been my favorite thing in february especially cuz of valentines day. the theme is soft-wear. shimmery, sheer, and showered in flowers.

cute earrings (preferably the smaller ones) like studs, pearls, or cute spherical earrings

hair clips and barrettes

bangles

tweed dresses

pearl necklaces

remember those dress up games you may have used to play when u were little? when dressing this february, thats what inspired my february fashion. fluffy lashes, cutesy accessories and heels.

i read up a lot on CHANEL bcuz i think that her brand embodies the chic look perfectly and here are some fashion tips from coco chanel (this is my source)

look for the woman in the dress, if there is no woman then there is no dress - basically means dont let your clothes wear you

it is always better to be slightly underdressed - coco's understanding of chic was subtle glamor and lush fabrics

fashion changes but style endures - some clothes are timeless like a little black dress (aubrey hepburn) a quality handbag and a crisp white shirt

WHAT IM LISTENING TO LATELY ;

my favorite album of this month is kali uchis's orquídeas. i absolutely adore her music, energy and vibe. and the whole album is just MWAH. my favorite songs from the album are ;

te mata

igual que un ángel

perdiste

another album that i've been obsessed with this past month is the twicetagram album from twice. i just love the energy in the songs. my favorite songs from that album are LOOK AT ME and LOVELINE. and lastly, just songs that i've enjoyed listening to this february ;

yes, and? - ariana grande

never lose me - flo milli

wonderboy - GWSN

scenery - red velvet

angels in tibet - amaarae

FOR THE BLOG ;

since its going to be march and were kinda transitioning from the winter season -> spring, you can expect to see lots of spring related content from me. another thing that i rly wanna set up for my blog is membership if thats something that u guys'd be interested in.

and also after doing the valentines day challenge, i had so much fun with it and i kinda wanna do more challenges. so if i end up setting up membership i think services like those would be provided.

lastly, since im an advocate for not over consuming the law, i won't be answering inbox questions about the law so that then u guys can focus ENTIRELY on ur manifestations and not over complicate it bcuz the law is easy and you already know how to do it + if u have any general questions i've answered plenty of questions about the law in my blog ANYWAYS. the reason im doing this is so that then you can focus on your manifestations 🫶🏽 and i hope that you guys find it helpful.

HONEYS BEAUTY CORNER TOPIC - HYDRATION ;

when your skin is hydrated, you GLOW on such a deeper level and i absolutely love looking and feeling like a little dew drop so here's some hydration beauty tips

vasline is an occlusive, that simply means that the moisturizing ingredients that create a physical barrier on the skin to prevent transepidermal water loss and lock in hydration. after brushing ur lips to exfoliate, u can just go in and put some vaseline on ur lips and your lips will be HYDRATED.

using a body oil + a body lotion has taken my hydration game to new HEIGHTS. the key to this is to make sure the scents match or have similar notes at least, and moisturize DAMP skin so that then it can absorb better. walk around with a hand lotion, and lip moisturizer ALWAYS.

the key to a dewey makeup look is having a good base. its all about preparing the skin before u put the makeup on. use a good creamy moisturizer and use a glowy spf and then use a good primer.

FOR THE WELLNESS GIRLIES ;

hormone balancing tea blend that i tried and loved ; raspberry leaf tea with spearmint and dandelion root tea. i drink mine with honey a couple days before and during my period and my cramps have been so minimal and my hormones have been so balanced.

hydration ; to follow the trend of the beauty section lets talk hydration. the optimal amount of water to drink is 2.7 liters a day. if u wanna up your hydration game, use some liquid iv or another hydrating powder so that then u can get the most out of ur water. if u dont have anything like that, adding a pinch of salt into your water can also help to improve hydration.

frequencies and vibes ; i've been interested in frequencies lately, simply bcuz i think that they're so interesting. i'll go deeper into frequencies in the next section. but here are some frequencies to listen to for wellness ;

174 hz - reduces physical and energetic pain

285 hz - heals tissues and rejuvenates

432 hz - restores well being and releases emotional blockages

528 hz - love frequency, induces inner peace and repairs DNA

supplements that are geared towards beauty ; find a specific hair, skin and nails supplement or vitamin that includes a blend of powerful antioxidants, minerals and vitamins. some examples of this are ;

fish oil (omega 3 and fatty acids) helps to protect skin against inflammation

collagen (for skin hair and nails) promotes healthy dewy and glowing skin

turmeric (anti inflammatory effects)

PROBIOTICS

RANDOM THINGS I LEARNED ;

something thats caught my interest this month is sound healing. the power of sound is truly amazing, and i was curious specifically about frequencies. sound healing has been around for years by yogis for thousands of years. nowadays sound healing is practiced with something called sound baths.

a sound bath is a deeply relaxing experience where the listener lies down on a mat or blanket, with as many cushions or props as they need to feel comfortable, and is then ‘bathed’ in the sound vibrations. benefits of sound baths include ;

reduced stress, pain and anxiety

better sleep

lower blood pressure

fewer mood swings

balanced hormones

healing through sounds was practiced by ancient egyptians, greeks and chinese physicians, who also used sound healing in their practices to promote digestion, sleep, and emotional disturbances.

if learning a bit about sound healing interested you and you wanna learn a bit more about it, this is the source i used for this section.

FUN QUIZZES, VIDEO ESSAYS, RECIPES AND GAMES ;

valentines day aesthetic quiz - buzzfeed - i got daughter of aphrodite

consideration is the highest form of love - manifestelle - food for thought

good boyfriend quiz - seventeen

which romantic music type am i - buzzfeed - i got r&b enthusiast

valentines day cupcakes recipe ;

1 1/2 cup of flour

1 cup of butter milk

1/3 cups of oil

4 large eggs

mix it all together and add it into a lined cupcake tin, bake at 350° for 15 minutes. for the frosting...

1 cup of softened butter

6 cups of powdered sugar

1 tsp of strawberry extract

4 tbs of milk

CRUSH STORIES ;

SUBMISSION ONE : ANON : 💝

idk if this counts 😭 but my crush is an older guy (dw it's very legal) and he's so sweet, I manifested him liking me using your help!!! We're not together yet but he's been talking to me for literally hours a day, and just offered to buy me A NEW LAPTOP aaaah I'm crying. Ily honey your perfect

HBDSJHDJ YAYY. i wish u guys all the happiness and i hope u enjoy ur new laptop ✨

SUBMISSION TWO : ANON : 💝

technically not a crush but my ex boyfriend cheated on me (i broke up w him very quickly after) w my best friend and got her pregnant. he tried to make amends with me but I turned him down. i think i dodged a bullet there thank god 🫢

OH 💀. you def dodged a bullet, they went behind ur back and then got pregnant... 😭

thats all for this months catalog, there will be a new edition each month with new content and it'll be updated on a monthly basis so if thats something that interests you or if you like these kinds of posts pls let me know, till next month girlies✨

[tarrynightss]

What they’d get you for Valentine’s Day

Characters: Jake Sully, Miles Quaritch, Tonowari, Tsu’tey, Ronal, & Neytiri (gender neutral reader)

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I couldn’t get what I wanted for today finished so have this little thingy for now 💓 happy Valentine’s Day cuties 💓

Jake Sully

Your favorite food

Jake would to try gather and prepare whatever food he knows you like best. Foraging is easy enough, but when it comes to cooking? Great mother preserve him he will struggle. He will have to retry it like four times till he finally feels confident enough presenting it to you.

He’ll cover your eyes and walk you over to the little spot where he set up the food, having thrown some woven mats down in the clearing for you to sit on. He’ll have picked the perfect spot near a twinkling creek or a lush part of the forest. It’s perfect, and though the food isn’t necessarily the best, his gesture is more than grand enough by itself.

Miles Quaritch

Dick A card

Miles had to be reminded by one of his squad mates that it was Valentine’s Day. He knew he was fucked if you saw all the humans at base chat about it while he turned up to you with empty hands. He could imagine your displeased face and the cold shoulder you would give him afterwards, and so he got to work. Pandora didn’t exactly have some store he could quickly run to buy a card or some oversized stuffed animal, not that he even knew if you’d like that in the first place. In the end he had attempted to make a card himself, folding a paper in half and writing some standard happy Valentine’s Day shit on it. He drew a heart on the front, which was very crooked but he was pleased enough to call it a day and slap it into your hands.

Tonowari

Self made bouquet

After Tonowari found out about the little human holiday, it turned into one of his favorite things. He was all for showing appreciation for his mate and had planned out what he would give you well before the day rolled around. People often forgot that the ocean too held stunning plants and flowers, but he was well aware of it. He swam far and wide to collect everything he had in mind, eventually having putting together a stunning and rare bouquet. He would take you out onto the ocean before presenting it to you, happily showing you all the spots where the flora originated from if you wanted to see it.

Tsu’tey

Customized weapon

Tsu’tey didn’t really get the use of the holiday. Why would he give you something that you would never look at again after the day? That would be a waste. No, instead he chose to indulge your human holiday in a different way, customizing a weapon for you. A dagger, bow, spear, whatever held your fancy. He carved intricate patterns into the wood and painted it, letting himself be inspired by whatever Pandoran animal you liked most.

His chest would be puffed out in pride when he gives it to you, explaining exactly why he did what as soon as it’s in your hands.

Ronal

Jewelry

Ronal would take the opportunity to design and make some jewelry for you. She’d use shells, beads, clear stones, whatever she could gather on the beach and in the ocean. She’d make a matching necklace and headband for you, putting the jewelry onto you with a sweet smile when the day finally comes. She’ll compliment you, noting how it accentuates your features, which of course she had thoroughly planned.

Neytiri

Night out

Neytiri is less for material gifts and more into the experience. She’ll want to take you for a night out in which the two of you fly on top of her Ikran as she recounts many of the moments you shared together. She will tell you of all the times she had stared up at these same stars you now flew under, thinking of you and counting the hours till she would see you again.

[honeybeefae]

Valentine's Mini Fic // Lucien Vanserra

It is no longer February but who doesn’t want a super cliche, romantic story with Lucien? This was such a cute, fun story to write and totally reminded me of something disneyesque lol. I hope you guys like it!

WARNINGS: Dead animal

Trope: Damsel in distress

Tree branches scraped across your arms as you ran through the woods, skirts gathered in your hands to avoid tripping over them while desperately looking for somewhere to hide.

You hadn’t meant to anger the animal chasing you. It was just that you were starving and when you stumbled across their den you couldn’t resist the look of the various berries and vegetables they had collected into a small pile. The hunger had been gnawing at your stomach since you had escaped the king of Hybern’s claws, if you hadn’t taken advantage of the food you would probably be dead in a ditch. 

“Mother above, please help me!” You begged, hearing the pounding hooves getting closer. It was dusk and the stars beginning to sparkle above in the Spring Court. You were running out of time as the sun began to start its departure to sleep.

The animal roared loudly, the birds in the trees fleeing while the ground seemed to tremble from its anger, as you took a sharp left turn. You saw a large maple tree with branches just low enough for you to grab and began to sprint towards it, your lungs feeling as if they were on fire as you scurried up as fast as you could.

As your fingers dug into the rough bark the animal stopped underneath your hiding place, snorting as it smelled your scent. By the time you were halfway up the tree, it started to ram its horns into the base of it. You screamed, wrapping your entire body around the trunk to hold on for dear life.

Your eyes squeezed shut in terror, memories of your life and what you had just escaped flashing through your mind as the tree began to slowly move. You knew that with only a few more hits both you and the tree would go tumbling down. 

And as you began to pray your last prayer, you heard the animal let our terrifying shriek. You could feel your heart in your stomach as you peeked down, your mouth dropping open when you saw it laying on its side with an arrow through its skull. 

A horse whinnied through a clearing of the woods up ahead, approaching your tree slowly as the rider gave it hushed commands. You immediately started to climb higher, afraid it was one of the king’s men coming after you. The branches were getting smaller and smaller as you heard leaves crunching under the stranger’s boots, a flash of red hair the only thing you could make out.

“What were you chasing after, hm?” The stranger wondered aloud, a small piece of cloth at the bottom of the tree catching their eye. “Or should I say who?”

You froze, your heartbeat in your ears, as you tried to be as quiet as possible. The voice didn’t sound like anyone you knew but you couldn’t risk it, you had worked so hard to escape.

“Is anyone up there?” The voice called, scanning the lush branches. 

A deep breath was all you allowed yourself to take, trying to assure yourself that you were safe…until one of the branches you were holding snapped in half.

“No!” You cried, scrambling to find another one to hold onto only to cause the other one in your right hand to break as well. The wind wooshed loudly in your ears as you fell several feet, your hands desperately trying to grab onto something as your body took several hits.

The ground was quickly approaching and just as you were sure you were going to snap your neck, two arms wrapped around you and caught you in the nick of time. You instinctively throw your arms around their neck, looking into the most beautiful face you had ever seen.

His skin was tan with hair as red as flames, tucked behind his ears and flowing down past his shoulders. You traced his scar with your eyes, noticing his golden eye, before moving to his lips that were parted in surprise. It took you several seconds to remember what was happening, and whose arms you could potentially be in.

The man grunted when you roughly shoved his chest, freeing you from his grasp so that you could take off back into the woods. It wasn’t the smartest idea but it did provide you with the most cover. You heard him yell, ordering you to stop, but you pushed on.

When you felt like you had successfully outrun him you decided to rest on a large willow tree for a moment, needing to catch your breath before looking for shelter for the night. The sun was now almost completely gone, the sky painted in shades of purples and oranges that you admired for a few seconds.

However, it was a few seconds too long as you suddenly found yourself staring down at the edge of a blade, the man from before on the other end of it. 

“Who are you? What are you doing in these woods?” He asked, jaw tense. You held your hands up shakily, swallowing the lump in your throat while trying not to cower in fear.

“Please do not take me back, sir. I have money, I can pay you off. Just let me go.” You pleaded.

“Take you back where? What are you running from?” 

You glanced down at the knife, seeing yourself in the reflection, before looking back up at him. He didn’t seem like one of Hybern’s soldiers now that you studied him but you also knew that Hybern had allies all over the continent. Could you tell him the truth? Was it smart?

He could tell you were terrified, your entire body was shaking. He also knew you were injured, the cuts from the fall staining your already muddy dress. You were both sizing the other one up before he sighed and stepped back, sheathing his weapon.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He said, removing the coat he had and laying it down on the ground for you. “Here, before you freeze to death.”

His kindness made you pause, hesitating to pick it up in fear of a trick until a breeze had goosebumps rising up your arms. You bent down while maintaining eye contact just in case, snatching the coat and throwing it around your body. 

Warmth immediately encased your upper body while the smell of earth and spice warmed your insides. It made you feel safe and for the first time since your escape, you felt peaceful.

“Thank you.” You whispered, offering him a small smile. 

“You’re welcome.” He nodded, fighting the way he wanted to return your smile. “Now, will you tell me your name?”

“Tell me yours first, then I will tell you mine.” You bargained, trying to stand taller. This time he could not resist smiling.

“First you trespass on our land, then I save your life, twice, and yet you think you are the one who can make demands?” He chuckles, crossing his arms while leaning against the tree behind him. “I do believe you’ve got our positions twisted, girl.”

You roll your eyes while gathering the jacket tighter against you. “I want to know I can trust you.”

He clicks his tongue and looks you over once more, shaking his head. “It would be naive of you to trust any stranger, even the ones that save your life.”

If he were with Hybern, or anyone nefarious, he wouldn’t entertain you this much. You did not know who he was, what he did, or why he was out in the woods, but you felt deep in your soul that you could trust him. 

“My name is Y/N, Y/N L/N.” You say softly, gazing up at him as the moon begins to rise. 

“Y/N…” He repeats, your name rolling off his tongue in the most enticing way. Despite your injuries and hunger, your knees seemed to go weak at the sound of it. “What are you running from, Y/N?”

“Hybern.” Your eyes fell to the ground as a shudder rippled through your body. “I’ve lived there my entire life and what they did, what he did to my family…I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get out.”

The man gave you a sympathetic look, his eye softening as you tried to hold yourself together. You didn’t mean to cry in front of him, or even divulge this much information, but again something told you that he was safe. You needed safe…desperately. 

“Please-” You paused, realizing you still did not know his name.

“Lucien.”

“Please, Lucien. Please do not make me go back.”

You drew in a shallow breath while he looked on, conflicted. Hybern was not something he, nor the Spring Court in general, wanted to get involved in but he also couldn’t return you. If it were anyone else he would have left them in the woods to fend for themselves, wishing them luck and sleeping soundly at night.

But when you looked at him, your eyes teary yet trusting, something deep within him shifted. He wanted to help you.

Without warning he lifted you off the ground, carrying you bridal style as he walked back to his horse. You were gingerly put in front before he climbed behind you, wrapping one arm around you to keep you secure while the other took the reigns. 

“Where are you taking me?” You asked, voice tense as the horse began to follow whatever path it knew. 

“Somewhere safe.” Lucien answered, enjoying the way your body felt against his as you relaxed against him. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep before you got to your destination, snoring softly which made him smile again. This was going to be interesting. 

[planktonlesbian]

Why Funny Valentine would make the best US president a post.

⚠️ This post contains spoilers for part 7 of JoJos bizzare adventure ⚠️

Funny Valentine would make the best US president if he was real. I will prove my claim using irrefutable evidence I have carefully collected and coagulated into this very text.

Part 1: Love for his country

Funny Valentine throughout steel ball run is shown to be a lover of the United States. He only wants the best for his republic and is willing to go to extreme measures for what he sees as vital to the success of his nation no matter the risk.

Funny Valentine goes through the trouble of setting up an expensive race costing millions of dollars of which 1.5 million USD is given as a prise to the victors (which is 1.5 million USD in 1890 adjusted for inflation)

However many forget that the Steel Ball Run Race expenses were not only it's prise money but also the extensive amount of resources needed to carry out the six month long journey across an entire continent. This is an unfathomable amount of money far exceeding the prise money by an amount I don't even think I have the time to calculate.

But do you know who did have time to calculate the race funds? That's right, the Valentine administration. Yes other parties were involved however the race was also funded by the US government. This task requires hours upon hours of time effort and dedication to prepare. Something most if not all other politicians would never think of doing.

The race brought tourism to the growing US economy. It was a monumental success not just on a national level but also an international level.

Valentine is very vocal about his love for his nation and he will do anything to see his nation flourish.

"As President, it is my sworn duty! In this world, to guarantee the safety of the people of my country. That is what it all comes down to!"

Valentine says this quote as he is in the middle of a fight to the death with a gay Italian cowboy. I highly doubt that any other US president would ever consider fighting a gay Italian cowboy to the death in order to guarantee the safety of his nation. His dedication truly is something we should all admire.

Part 2: Outlook on the world

Funny Valentine is a man of consistency. He is always wearing the same outfit. His coat, pants, shirt and gloves are formal and stylish. His image is unforgettable. His iconic pink coat matched with his lush curled hair gives him the fruity look we need from a president.

Funny Valentine will always take the napkin first. He acts first and has others follow suit. This is an admirable trait. Can you name any other president that is or has taken swift action to benefit their country. No, only president Valentine has the guts to act first. He isn't slow and he isn't a fool. He is a man of action.

Valentine is often seen overlooking situations silently observing. He is planning and cunning. All of his moves are calculated and carried out with pin point precision. He takes the time he needs to ponder and think. Yet he is never indecisive. His philosophy can guide his nation to the prosperous society it deserves.

Part 3: A man of the people

Funny Valentine is a charismatic and charming leader. His ability to stir up a crowd and influence those around him in a positive way are unmatched by all other political leaders past and present.

He is excellent at violinist. He enjoys parties and drinks. He understands the layman. He himself suffered through war and torture at a young age. Yet he never regretted any of it. He understands everyone and their needs. And that's why he would do anything to serve his nation.

"I have feelings of patriotism. Every action I have performed was because I judged it to be absolutely necessary for this country's sake."

He would do anything for his nation. Even going out of his way to fight a gay cowboy from Kentucky and his gay Italian boyfriend.

Thank you for reading! Just to clarify this entire post is a joke I don't actually believe this I just thought it would be a funny idea for a post.

[s1utlvr]

Lush’s new Valentine’s Day collection is so cute wtf

[kikiiswashere]

Children of Zaun - Sneak Peek

A little sweetness from the upcoming chapter to celebrate Valentine's Day!

“I am glad I got to show you this place,” she decided on, looking up at the stalactites on the cave’s ceiling. “As grateful as I am that only Viktor and I seem to be the ones to ever come here, it’s so beautiful that I feel badly for it that so few people visit. Know about it.”

Silco hummed, biting down on a piece of bread and looking around at the cave. It’s towers and divots. At the lush moss and algae that collected at its mouth, and hung down from its opening like a shredded curtain.

“This is where your parents taught you how to swim?”

Katya shook her head. “No. I learned in the Oases. Like a lot of the children do now. When it came time to teach Viktor, his body did not handle the cool water well, so Papa taught him here.”

“Your brother knows how to swim?”

Katya smiled and nodded. “He’s quite proficient, too, all things considered. Being in the water also helps relieve some of the chronic aches he has in his body.”

“How did your father find this place?” Silco asked, looking around again.

“I never thought to ask. I wish I had now. He used to talk about taking me and Viktor out on a boat someday. To explore the Conqueror’s Sea.”

“It sounds like he had an affinity for water.”

Katya chuckled and took a bite of bread. “I suppose he did, now that you mention it. One of texts he would read to us most frequently had to do with ocean life. Various habitats, animal and plant life – that sort of thing.” She laughed and said, “My favorite chapter was about the deep sea, and all the monstrous creatures down there. It sort of reminded me of the Undercity. I found it fascinating, but I don’t think Viktor did.”

“How come?”

She shrugged. “He is more interested in building and creating things. He preferred when Papa read about inventions and why they worked. Engineering and chemistry and physics, and that sort of thing. Biology never grabbed him as tightly.”

“But it did you?” Silco asked, taking his knife to the apple again and slicing it twice. He handed one piece to her, and popped his into his mouth.

Katya shrugged again and bit thoughtfully into the apple’s flesh, Silco’s eyes flicking down to her mouth as she did.

“I do find it interesting,” she said around the fruit in her mouth. “It certainly has served me well with my role at the clinic. And with caring for Viktor. And like I told you, I think I would like to become a doctor once Zaun is free. Once we have the ability to manage such things.”

“That reminds me,” Silco gasped, reaching for his bag. His hand gripped the small satchel of gold within and he drew it out. “Vander and I wanted you to have some of the coin from the airship job. To help with Viktor’s tuition next semester.”

He handed her the purse, and she slowly took it. Her eyes glossed over and became distant as she uncinched the bag’s mouth and peered inside. Gold glittered up at her. Katya sniffed and her throat squeezed tightly. She looked back up at him, and her heart cracked at the soft – almost adoring – smile on his face. She opened her mouth to thank him, but all that came out was a teary choke. Silco scooted over and wrapped his arm around her.

“I got you.”

Katya’s voice failed her again, and she simply leaned against him. She curled into him; her face pressed into his neck. She nodded against it, overwhelmed and humbled by the sense of gratitude. Her body alight with the feeling of belonging. She felt treasured and valued.

She wasn’t able to speak, but as she closed her eyes and felt Silco’s jugular pulsing against her cheek, she thought You have me.

------

Happy Valentine's, my lovelies!!! 😘

[eyepool]

TIL that tumblr will nicely embed Bandcamp links…

I just posted a Mo Dotti video yesterday but I hadn’t listened to their new album yet. Last night I did.

YOWZA. The first track (this one^) came on and I thought “this is great! I should put it in the best-new-rock playlist I’m putting together.” Then track two came on — a prerelease song I’d already heard — and I thought “oh yeah! No, I’ll put this one in instead.” And then I kept thinking that every time the next song came on, all through the rest of the ten tracks.

This album is a banger. It’s twenty pounds of woozy guitar noise & sweet pop hooks in a five-pound bag. There are no weak tracks, there are no outliers. Mo Dotti basically imagine “what if Lush had signed to Creation instead of 4AD, hung out with My Bloody Valentine and the Boo Radleys, and gotten noisier instead of more ethereal?” and set the controls for the heart of the bliss-out.

Which is to say that Mo Dotti aren’t making super original music here, but that doesn’t matter because it’s super good. I will swear on a stack of yellowing NMEs that this album is better than anything Lush released after their first two EPs. If it had been released in, say, 1991 it would be considered one of the landmarks of the genre and kids today would be finding it in their parents' record collections and losing their shit the way I am right now.

[fleshsigil]

today i laid down - review

//content warning: discussion of depression/self-harm/suicide

And we let it out Where they can't see In my room, up your arms Who will you dress as tonight? And why's it always me?

this EP was an especially hard thing to review for me. probably even harder than the sky may be, considering the subject matter and backstory, but i think it's something i absolutely need to recommend anyway because it needs to be heard.

today i laid down is a cathartic, lilting fusion of post-rock and classic alt-rock released in 2023 by kai wesener under the pseudonym bl4ck m4rket c4rt. when i was originally recommended this, i was skeptical; i don't rate music with numbers because that's stupid, but needless to say, it is now in my top 3 EPs of all time. i think it is truly one of the best pieces of music that i have ever listened to.

today i laid down consists of only six songs, but it feels like a full-length album. i can't explain it. the soundscapes and crescendos are constantly mutating, but still cozy and acoustic. the mostly acoustic sounding instruments lend the songs this beautiful, shoegazey texture that is incredibly lush and full of life. at times, there are cowbells, triangles, pianos, and xylophones that also add an extra layer of depth and beauty to the songs. the only thing that i can really say about the actual songs is that they're fucking amazing. there is not a single bad, or even okay, song on this entire EP. each one has its own unique identity, but they still fit together perfectly as a whole. there are parts with rich, warm synths; there are parts with psychedelic keyboard sounds. it all works. kai obviously has an incredibly good ear for music theory and sound design, because the songs manage to be pretty catchy while also having this unique, ecstatic, layered feel that not much else has. there's the transcendentality of sigur ros, the blown-out shoegazey textures of mogwai and my bloody valentine, and the warmth that radiates from most acoustic indie rock projects. a few of the songs are shorter than 3 minutes or so, and still manage to feel drawn out and constantly changing. i think it's a masterclass of instrumental layering and rock fusion.

the lyrical content combined with the cathartic, yearning instrumentals is what makes this EP truly impactful and haunting. if you don't pay attention to the lyrics, then the EP might appear somewhat happy, or just wistful. if you take into consideration the events that transpired a few months after the EP released, these lyrics, which are barely audible over the drone of the guitar, are utterly fucking haunting. they are no longer empty threats or thoughts converted into music. the lyrics themselves detail traumatic memories, self-harm, feeling inadequate, not wanting to get out of bed, and dying together but alone. saying that what happened after its release made the EP "better" is completely untrue and completely distasteful; if anything, it's all the more haunting and fucked-up. the lyrics went from something being sung to a collection of thoughts, painting a picture of the mind of someone who was suffering. i have been in that headspace before, and still am sometimes, and this EP is like a reminder to not let myself succumb. not like a cautionary tale, but more of a fucked-up testament to the fact that depression is real and immediate and it kills people; it hurts everyone around you, too. the first time that i read about the backstory of the EP, half an hour later i was listening to it again, looked at the cat on the album cover, and almost cried. all i could think about was the fact that the cat probably misses its owner a lot, or wonders where he's gone. then i thought about my own dog, and the fact that she would probably miss me a lot too, and i told myself i would try my best to not let myself give in.

this EP is truly one of the best things i've ever heard, lyrical and thematic impact aside, and incredibly cathartic. it emanates blissful, bitter acceptance and hollow warmth. overall, it is a must-listen, even if the subject matter doesn't pertain to you.

rest in peace, kai.

LINKS TO EP ON SPOTIFY AND BANDCAMP BELOW

(i post music recommendations sometimes, if you want more of that kind of thing, you should follow me)

(PS: i totally lied about doing a happier album that's not about crushing depression, who knows what i'm going to review the next time. probably more sad shit.)

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Ok ok so in an earlier ask I asked for a penpal situation between Croc and Ivy and I was wondering if a gender neutral/nonconforming reader could receive a romantic letter (with a little bit of spice thrown in) as if they were lovers before the rogues went back to Arkham.

The reader in question is a plant lover, into saving the environment, very kind and sweet and nonjudgmental, and also a little nerdy. No name is preferred (even the placeholder y/n).

Love Letter Double Feature! Killer Croc x Reader and Poison Ivy x Reader

Alright you got it. Since you sent me this in one ask I'll just do them back to back starting with Waylon. As a reminder this is for my Valentines Event for this week! as a note ((text)) is an observation on the letter, not something they wrote out.

TW: suggestive

You've received a letter that the paper is a little beaten up. On close inspection, you can see pen marks that have pressed too hard and almost gone through. There's white-out in a couple places. It's slightly crumpled as though someone kept taking it out and handling it. Maybe to read it over and make sure it was good?

Cher,

I kept writing this over and over. Feels like shit and it's not good enough, you know? And don't give me crap about it not being a big deal. It's gotta be nice. Never had anyone to write to for Valentine's before.

Where do you even start? I love you, you know that part. You give me this joie de vivre that's hard to put into words. like it's worth it to get up in the morning. Even in fucking Arkham. Counting down my days. Bullshit they're only letting me write you for now instead of letting you visit. I think most of the rogues here have somebody trying to visit.

And damn do I got an envie to see you cher, to feel you. You're so warm and cute, even when you're talking about some nerdy thing you got into. Actually, that's when you're cutest. You get so into it. Makes you look tasty. Can't get into too many details, they read our letters. But you know. ((There's a wobbly winky face drawn here.))

Don't deserve you, but I got you. The kindest person I've ever met. But you gotta be careful, babe, you can't save the whole world. So don't do anything crazy while I'm gone, alright?

Love,

Waylon

---

You've received a letter with mossy growth on the envelope. It's not a lot, but even this much tells you exactly who it's from. The letter itself has an almost intoxicating smell. You close your eyes and it's like being in a private secret garden lush with life. With a shaky breath, you open the letter.

Hello lover,

I hope you like my gift. A little experiment I've run in my cell. I've had to assure the guards that crossbreeding moss won't be the grand escape plan of the year. Give it some love and care- you'd enjoy using it for ground cover or even a small terrarium. Seeing what you do with the plants I give you makes me deliriously happy. I can't thank you enough for taking care of my personal collection in my stead.

Not everyone would be brave enough, but I think my babies sense that you're a kind soul. It's what drew myself to you, after all. Someone who genuinely cares about what I do and not just my looks. That's what's always enticed me about you, love. All the men and women that would quake and quiver at my feet and you are the jewel amongst all of them.

I miss you dearly. Between being restricted in how I can grow, and knowing you're going to bed alone- my time here at Arkham seems to move even slower than normal. I just want to see you. To share our moments in our private, intimate grove. Remember the last time we were together and the bedroom turned tropical?

I'm laughing now even thinking about it. Let's aim for our own apartment ecosystem once I'm home.

Love,

Pamela

[baddingtonbitch]

so many people who have lots of pronounced, outward, overtly sentimental and ostentatious crushes on people, real or fictional, are often like the least equipped for actually loving another person and honestly possibly the least interested in it. it’s often not about the other person at all it’s about the act and the process and mechanism of “adoring” them. they’re the object of the crusher’s affection in the most literal sense like just a device they use to superficially characterise themselves as a romantic or as whatever they want to think of themselves as. they talk about their crushes the way people talk about music or food, defining themselves by their likes and dislikes, not only commodifying the other person but doing it in the interest of self expression. and the act of having a crush can be so fulfilling, it’s a little pet fascination that you get to nurture and embellish in your spare time all the while keeping it in the vacuum of fantasy but still letting it be real enough to feel like you’re working at something wonderful or positive like real love. and people can convince themselves that they have storied romantic pasts and lush and passionate internal lives because they’re always falling for someone but it’s more like collecting shiny things because you like looking at yourself in them. they might all catch the light in their own way and you might look a bit different in each one but in reality their primary appeal is that they’re yours. and that’s all well and good for the theater of affection, the carving names in trees and valentine cards side of things but beneath all the trimmings and beneath the aesthetic of love a lot of the time the deepest, most enduring, most head over heels relationship a lot of “hopeless romantics” have is the one with the idea of themselves being in love

[peacockeryabound]

The Last Honest Men - Part 2

(From the story of the same name on my Archive).

Synopsis

A dangerous mix of stress and over confidence finds Dutch making a gamble. He ends up having an uncomfortable heart to heart with a strange conscience.

Chapter focus: Dutch/Molly

-

Sometimes, a man thought best when he was alone. Knowing now that all eyes were on him and Molly and that he had been caught once by Grimshaw on the outskirts, Dutch's sleep had dipped into deeper lows. Every moment of the following days, he felt like he was being watched. It had become good practice to keep his back towards something solid, his own gaze like a hawk as he kept a close eye on his people.

A fool would call it paranoia, but he was not paranoid. No, this was for safety, making sure everyone knew their place. 

He had caught wind of Strauss sending Arthur off to collect some money out west, John had disappeared again without a word to him and Hosea had left after coffee to go sniff out some new lead he claimed was running a fence hustle out on some ranch back east. The O'Driscoll boy was making himself useful now with the girls around the camp chores. A few tiffs aside, nothing drastic was happening among his fellows, which made him exhale the breath he had been holding. Dutch disliked anything drastic.

He knew it in his heart that he had full faith in his camp, but he still kept watch for any signs of attention that would rat him out after lunch, when he made a brisk walk past his tent and slapped an expensive bottle of rum into Bill's hands to buy some ignorance if anyone looked up from the stew pot to raise hell over seeing their boss mounting his horse. The man waved him off while taking his guard spot in the bushes, tearing out the cork with his teeth.

This was that tingling gut sensation that he had missed, the feeling of branches clawing into his hair and the wind at his face. The Count carried him swiftly through the brush and out into the sunlight, kicking up the dust of fresh dug roads behind them as they climbed up lush prairie hills. The screaming of a distant train whistle jumped his heart, as did the jubilant cries of birds, of rodents and whitetails tearing in different directions to get away from him. These were the true heartlands of America, and in this brief escape, he was its child, returning home.

If only he could dig his spurs deep and carry on forever, out into the unspoiled plains to follow the train tracks. As Valentine came into view, he tugged on the reigns and brought his horse to a stop. 

Nothing good was going to come out of there, as he had tempted his luck already with Trelawny. However, the association brought the man back to mind. There was no reason for him to be there still, not after he had reported Sean's state and whereabouts. It was their meeting walk into that mud pit that made Dutch decide then and there to send Javier and Charles out first to survey Blackwater, only holding back on demanding Josiah's hand in the matter when told there might still be wealthy prospects to be snooped out, even in a hick town.

Against his better judgment, Dutch clicked his spurs into The Count and drove the horse forward.

It was a gamble of an idea, but the lack of care towards his own presence the first time around suggested that news had not traveled yet. After plenty of reports from his gang of hustling and bar fights, keeping under the radar by shooting O'Driscolls and bringing in bounties, the odds were in his favor. As he breached the entry path into town, Dutch noticed more folk were gawking at the state of his horse than they were of him. One man passing made a comment to his wife that another snooty tycoon must be coming to check the stock.

He wasn't even aware that he had been holding his breath in at that moment until he whistled and shook his head, grinning like a rat bastard as he tipped his head and trotted on by.

Maybe...it wouldn't hurt to stop by for a drink. Too many names were on his list and his feet were getting restless; nothing that a stiff one couldn't settle.

He hitched The Count near the stables and stole a jacket that was draped over the rail of a house being framed. An old drunk stumbling by didn't notice his hat being nicked and he caught the eyes of a few ladies up the steps to the general store, who had turned to stare down his backside as he made his way to the saloon. 

It was a packed one today, with every table almost filled and twice as many drunks bumping elbows. Not even the poor jockey at the piano could carry his tune loud enough to carry over the raucous chatter of over fifty heads, laughing and cussing and one upping in hoots and hollers. Dutch buttoned up and tipped his hat, shoving through with some grumbling to pass off as toothless as possible, just another member in the flock. Only the bartender gave him a look down, even as he was popping bottles almost left and right.

"What can I do for you?" He asked over the noise. 

Dutch noticed the gaze didn't seem to be fixing hard on him, which incited the bravado he had been suppressing since he slid off his horse.

"What sorta whiskey you got?" He barked back. As he heard the selections, he hand waved to the one that sounded cheapest. No need to sound too cultured in a place like this.

"Here you are," the man said as he nudged the glass over. "You here for the auction too?"

Dutch nodded while he knocked back a shot. 

"Yup, sure am." He grinned and extended his hand. "Samuel Evans, of Evans Range. You know...the legendary Evans Range Shorthorn beef?" He chuckled at the look he was being given as his gesture was received. "No matter- way out west there. Dropped the missus off at the hotel and decided to swing by here for a drink to loosen my purse before I go and take a look."

They both shared the next laugh, with the barman shaking his head while cleaning a glass.

"Well, you're in luck. Plenty of fine stock out there- lots of pigs this season, if you're thinking of expanding. Heard the market for pork is rising."

They shot the breeze for a few minutes, with a few side eyes he cast to the boozed up bum beside him.

"Evans Range, feh..." The gruff man grumbled while swirling his bottle, "E'rone knows 'round here that sheep's the way to go. You done lost a fortune just getting here! Ha..ha...." He swayed from the next swig he took. 

Dutch curled his lip. He had been smelling the filth permeating beside him and would rather take his senses elsewhere. He nodded to the bartender once his next shot came, grabbing the glass and moving away from the bar top. A quick glance around sold him on the idea of heading upstairs, where all the prettier faces were sauntering up to. 

He was almost the shadow to a dolled up young woman who had to hike her skirt just to ascend. She noticed him at the top, staring for a moment before she pushed up her shoulder to hide her smile and batted her eyes while trotting away.

Eye candy aside, there were some pretty comfortable seats up here. The red lanterns on the walls were not lost to him, nor were the extra women fanning themselves from various corners or peeking around men they had cozied up to just to get an eye full of him. It wasn't a king's castle, but Dutch felt that warm satisfaction all the same as he sank down into an old velvet chair and spread his legs a bit, drink in hand. If only he had a cigar...

It was incredible, what a dozen feet higher could do to acoustics. The rowdiness was still present but less of a nuisance up here, where he could now listen to distinct conversations if he truly cared to. He leaned his head back, rotating his wrist with his glass in it, practiced yet loose. 

Had he truly ran from the same energy of the camp, or was it just comfort to be hiding among strangers?

Eyes closed, he brought the shot up to his lips.

No, this wasn't running away like a selfish child. He just needed a change of scenery to think. Disengage, deconstruct. Some different air- maybe an ass to grab. One more shot and he will be gone and nobody will be much wiser.

Something light scuffed beside him. Another person had taken a seat. Mind swimming from perfume and the arousing notes of women giggling, Dutch grew a lazy grin and chuckled.

"I knew I wouldn't be left alone for long." He purred.

"You're right." A man's voice. His eyes shot open. "You make quite an impression." 

It was the same tight fear of being caught with a gun between them. No sudden moves, no visible breathing. His eyes were blown wide at the ceiling, though they slowly rolled until he could make out the shape beside him. Black, fuzzy in peripheral, but something tall and dark reaching from the crown. He squinted, reaching for delusion.

"Josiah?..."

A small, breathy chuckle.

"I wish Trelawny was my name. It has a nice ring to it."

A knot had formed in his throat, pushing hard like a jagged stone when he tried to swallow. Dutch felt his hat staying put against the wall as he turned his head to stare at the newcomer.

It was a well dressed man, eerily uncanny to Josiah. The same top hat, the same curled mustache, the expected shiny eyes. If the sameness hadn't spooked him, it was the look he was receiving. The man was watching him with a sureness as if he had been completely puzzled out.

"Hello, Dutch."

He stared back. 

There was only one other time in his life where the world became as cold as death itself, and it was when he witnessed the life shot out of Annabelle before his eyes. Time then had slowed to a molasses crawl, where shapes quivered and sounds became warped. It had returned in full force, driven by a nauseating throbbing around his ears as the man's face was the only image that remained steady in the swirl of panic that pushed behind his eyes.

Something was mouthed, taking on sounds that became words on repeat. His name. This bastard knew his name.

"You can't be that drunk, Dutch." The strange man mused. He maintained an unshakable calmness when a gun was pulled from a holster and aimed his way. Those eyes, void of color but shiny like wet ash, glanced down at the barrel trained on his stomach and then flicked right back up. Dutch lost his breath when he realized that not once had this man blinked.

"Who are you?..." was all he could rasp.

"Don't waste that bullet on me." His companion mused. His mustache twitched just enough to suggest a smile. "I know you, Dutch."

"Who...are. You." Dutch's voice stuttered, but the hammer on his gun did not as he cocked it back.

His free hand had long spilled the whiskey shot that was now pooling into the rug and the glass might have shattered with it. Between the panic jumping his pulse and the loud affairs around him, he had been effectively swallowed up into the void that was this man's presence, in plain view and yet undeniably out of sight. A few men walked by, not one of them having noticed the revolver ready to paint a crime scene in front of everyone.

This imposter, this skinwalker who wore Josiah like a crisp suit, simply sat back and looked around them. Women were fanning themselves. Men teasing them were puffing up. Down below, a brawl of outrageous proportions was beginning to tear up the floor and yet through it all, the strange man knit his brows through the debauchery as if it were all nothing more than art to be observed.

"Nobody important. Just another thinker like you, seeking out the human condition. I'm an artist of sorts."

Those eyes were back on him again. 

"Put the gun away. I heard you were a poet."

The tone was so simple, placid yet bored, and somehow it trained the most wanted man in the lower states to fumble with holstering his weapon. He twitched his lips again, though this time the smile was indistinguishable from polite and mocking. It was just light enough to suggest deeper, darker things.

"How did you find me." Dutch found his voice again. 

It was mortifying, how powerless his own tone was. He was a proud man of big ambitions. How much of the American story had changed due to his staunch liberties, his crusade against the modern world? Dutch Van der Linde was nobody's dog to shake a finger to. He shook boots- women who wanted to fuck him, men who foamed at the mouth to fuck him over. He was the prophet of the old ideals, he the judge and jury who knew the bastardization of man through society's filth, that belief seeping hard into every line of spite scrunching onto his face as he put one hand on his knee to steady himself, leaning over to squint hard enough to try and crack this imposter's resolve.

The strange man simply looked at him, a pitying look reserved only for a fool with hot air.

"You know, it is the funniest thing." He mused. "I normally find myself more comfortable out in nature. A bed under the stars, free from the dictations of polite society...and here we are."

A woman beside them moaned from being goosed. Two men broke themselves upon a table in the pit brawl. His stare lingered.

"Do you remember Kettering, Dutch?"

A piercing bloom of hot terror pooled into Dutch's gut. Kettering was over a decade and a half ago, when he was some no-named punk fooling around with a conman, playing pretend that a gang of two men was a social movement. They had swindled hundreds of dollars from the pockets of well meaning idiots, sowing stories of offshore investments and exotic luxuries. He had barely grown into his mustache then, let alone establish his name with the weight it carried now. 

How did...?

His jaw danced. His breath jumped out his mouth in weak little shakes. The only words that spoke came from his visitor.

"Twelve honest men and women believed that the propositions they were told would set them for life. They had placed their hearts and all of they had into the hands of a promising man." His tone switched to a pointed deadpan. "A man who would ride out into the night and waste over a fourth of it on drinks and whores in some downtrodden brothel off the side of the road." 

The intruder was watching the tavern again. He was studying a young Lothario getting brave with one of the saloon girls, his expression blank and seemingly unimpressed from the way eager hands were wandering, cupping, curling into seemingly endless layers of skirt, right out in the open for God and everyone else to see. Selfish, poetic hedonism.

"Ever lost your heart?" He asked.

"I-I...don't..."

"You can't deny the call, my friend. You've touched many." The strange man's chest bounced from the huff he took. "What do you find when you reach out to others, Dutch. What do you see in the green eyed monster?" He turned to give him an almost bored side eye. "Is it in the color he wears or the weight of his pocket? I always wondered, what passion can do to a person."

"Who do you think you are?" Dutch croaked. His breath felt hot as fire, stirred up from the rage burning in his belly, making his knuckles glow white from the intense grips he held between his knee and revolver. "I am not a-a scoundrel, who-" his hands made a wild how the fuck sort of gesture, "who-who takes from those who don't need takin'." 

He was met with a blank canvas of a stare, so easy to paint his fears on. No, no, he wasn't afraid, this man was a loon, some dirty mind who stole a rich man's clothes and happened to read the papers. Harmless...only a crazy man could stare like that, and Dutch knew for one that he himself was not crazy.

However...he might have regretted pulling that gun. 

"I...am not a murderer, mister." 

There, as if that would make it all better. He saw the strange man blink at him, the only time, and it was the most infuriating thing that made him want to break that sighing nose.

His nerves were popping off, making his quivering lips, his twitching cheeks, his restless limbs suddenly not his own. It was an unhinged response that broke him into a feedback loop, powered by rage and the sensation of needed to vomit, right there on this Satan of a devil who was dissecting him alive in a room full of innocent ears. He looked around, wanting to accuse them all, damn your ears! Why don't you see?!

Around him, the world continued as normal. The fight downstairs had long dissolved into an awkward mess of cussing from drunks and the invading sheriffs, of the piano's jaunty tune that happily carried over the daily life of these bumpkin folk who settled back into their vices.

Dutch found it harder to breathe around the knot in his throat. He reached up to nearly strangle himself, feeling his Adam's apple jerking around in tight muscle, chilling down his neck and up into his head at the same time.

"Do you remember Heidi McCourt?" The cruel man beside him continued, apathetic as can be. "Do you believe that the bullet from your gun, pulled by your own hand on an unarmed girl was an act of justice in your failed robbery?" He was silent for a moment, watching. "Was that murder, or just another part of your plan, Dutch Van der Linde?"

Dutch watched him tilt his head, perfectly timed on his own slow sink back into his chair. He had to look elsewhere, but elsewhere was starting to blur again.

"I'm happy to have had this talk, you know. You've always been so hard to capture for my work. Very inspiring. You remind me of a friend." 

It was so out of nowhere that it felt the most horrifying statement yet. He choked on his next breath, heaving for air like a man struggling through a tightening noose. He was falling, feet kicking deep into old memories, of angry and ugly faces who had all cursed him out with threats he had brushed off so thoughtlessly over the years. Which one...which one?!?

"Up the road from here, on an old ranch is a man who also thinks himself righteous." The man made an offhand dusting of his sleeve. "I heard he will be getting a visit soon by another, made to play debt collector. Thing is, I have a feeling this young feller might...be swayed to the wrong side of faith. Why don't you go and take a look?" 

He shrugged and stood up.

"Or don't. You never know what poison a man can bring home."

-----

He shambled back to camp a dead man. A fool, carrying his own head. Theoretically, but after first seeing Bill nursing a fresh print across his cheek and a weak smile, Dutch knew it would have been more honorable to get literal. All of their eyes were upon him, hands on hips, arms crossed, quips to be made. Some smiled, others frowned. All of them were staring as if there were a bullet hole in his forehead.

Molly made a start for him but was shoved back by Grimshaw, who had one hand hiking her skirt to close the distance fast without tripping.

"Dutch Van der Linde, you selfish pig! You of all people, running o-"

She was suddenly ass first on the ground, her hair breaking out of its pins from the knock back and his arms around her. Everyone scattered back, that he could tell by the distance of their boot sounds even if he couldn't see them. His face had forced itself into the nape of her neck, blowing out spit and hot air as he sobbed out all the emotions that had slowly been breaking his resolve on the painful ride back. Even the Count gave a remorseful whinny- even through all the commotion of "what the hell"s and "oh my god"s, he could hear the distinct emotion from his beautiful boy.

It was deserved to get his hair yanked and a smack for his troubles, a denial that only made him shake harder when he felt Susan's hands fanning out across his back. She clearly had no clue what the hell was happening and the fight had died in her right there, her sense of duty and love for him shifting into a tight embrace that had her fingers snaking up fast to smooth back his hair.

"Dutch? Y-you need to say something..." 

He was not a cryer, that was damn well enforced. The head of the Van der Linde gang was emotional, he was a romantic, a father to his men, but he drew the line at bawling so hideously like he was now, all torn down and kicked in. The only sorry bastards who had the dishonor of witnessing his ugly moments were her and Hosea, a name so imprinted in his being that just remembering it forced his heart to seize in so tight a pain that it felt ready to tear itself apart at the sinew.

Hosea...

Susan's face was rippling in his vision. He felt her thumbs tugging at the corners of his eyes, trying to force them open. Her palms moved him in a frantic sway, giving his head a shake and slapping at his cheeks to rouse him. It was enough to shake the tears out of his eyes and see her proper, giving him a glare that only deepened the horror on her face.

"What happened?" She asked him again, only to look around and bark at the others to get them all to fuck off.

"But-" Molly's voice rang through his ears.

"GIT."

Through the sheer spite of his foolishness, Susan was able to pull him to his feet and kept him grounded with one hand hooked into his shoulder while the other beat away the dust spots along his pants and vest. Once she was able to get a good read on him, she sighed and shook her head.

"Come on, let's get you inside."

He didn't fight her hand threading through his, firm as a tether which he stumbled after towards his tent.

"Unbelievable, just absolutely incredible..." She was grumbling while fighting the tent flaps. 

He stood there in a distant sway, catching on to hushed voices behind him. Bill...definitely Bill. That fucking bastard. What a waste of rum.

"Hurts to see a grown man cry..." Bill's voice was indeterminate, trembling on the line between sincere and satisfied. 

Sharp gray eyes pierced through his mind, staring right back at him as the tone struck a nerve. The world began to melt around his vision again, drawing a haze in the corners, pulsing in spots from the needling pangs of something stabbing him right in the stomach.

Javier's voice answered, right as Susan knit her brows to come and retrieve him.

"Makes you wonder, you know? What goes on in a head like that..."

All the sound died in that moment from the drumbeat pulsing through his ears, building faster and harder as the copycat face came back, faint as a ghost and yet burning into the surfaces of wherever his vision swam while Susan yanked him inside.

He sat where she left him, his fists in his hair, rocking on the verge of screaming. That face, his words...talks of Blackwater, that dead girl, Kettering...had he been followed? All these years? Nobody in a mud flat like Valentine would know of Kettering-

"-Arthur." The name broke out of him, just like the snap of his neck as he stared at her, wild eyed and digging at the fabric on his knees. "Where's Arthur?!"

"What?" Susan stared at him. She was not in the wrong to be nearly plastered on the other side of the tent, looking ready to stab him with his own pencil.

"Arthur, dammit! Where is he?"

"You sit back down, you damn idiot." She forced him back with one firm shove against his chest, finger pointed while her lip trembled. "What in the hell is the matter with you? You sneak off and not tell anybody and come on stumbling back looking like you just talked to God out in the desert!" 

She tossed the writing instrument and crouched down to wet her thumb. "Oh, you stop it. I've done far worse to you." 

He was scrunching his nose while she wiped away a smudge on his cheek.

Susan was at his face level again, having pulled up a crate to be used as a chair. Riled as she was, there was a hurt look to her features that conveyed well through both of her hands as they reached out for his, time cupping and gliding her thumbs along the backs in the same strokes that tricked his memory, taking him back to the first time they laid eyes on each other in that hole-in-the-wall bar far out west in a bay city, miles away and decades ago. He watched her breathing, mirroring it within three breaths as she made a show of flaring her nostrils during the in, parting her lips to push during the out. In...out...warmth in his heart, warmth in her hands, kneading feeling back into his own until they stopped twitching. 

By his fifth breath, Dutch felt his heart slowing down. The prickling pressure behind his ears and the back of his neck was ebbing. Every bump in his spine felt like it was loosening between his shoulders, which had dropped completely upon the sixth exhale. Susan's face had been his anchor point, where it had gone from hazy to detailed again as the hysteria cleared, her thin lips smiling in relief. Taking in her aging features, there was a peaceful coo he made that surprised him. Even through the march of time, fighting against the pull of wrinkles and loosening skin, she was still just as bewitching now as she was on the night they first kissed. 

He remembered it fondly, his heart giving a different thump as his mouth twitched into a breathless little smile, in awe at this saint who had stayed so long through so much. They had come a long way from dancing, half undone in a greenhouse attachment of a mansion, making up the sounds to the muffled music two rooms over in the main foyer, eyes on each other and hands around curves, finding a moment of respite to calm the nerves and a little more before jumping into their first big job together. How things would have been different...

Dutch blinked out of his stupor, looking down at the soft hand patting his own. 

"What happened, Dutch?" Susan asked him again, squeezing his hands.

He stared at her for a long moment, exhausted. What happened...it was so baffling, but he had a hard time comprehending the question. The next words he found came without a second thought.

"I don't know."

His fingers curled when he heard her scoff.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I said I don't know!" The bark that clawed out of him was loud and it startled him, nothing he was proud of and yet he felt no remorse in it either. It felt natural and deserved, unrepentent in defense of himself- finding the fear of God, the Devil or Death itself, a harbinger who knew his name that had stolen his safety. Those eyes were back, threatening to shift the colors in her own as that bored, cutting voice pulled at every fold in his brain again.

"I-I don't know! Alright? You happy? Are you all god damn happy?"

"Dutch!"

"I'm tired! I am...plum tuckered, right-as-righteous...fucking, dead, tired."

One breath, two breaths...He knew he was snorting like a madman, hissing through his teeth as he shot his gaze to the flaps of his tent. He could hear the hushed talk of other peeping close, spying on him, feeling sorry for him...mocking him. It took only two steps to bang his fist against the canvas, watching shadows scatter under the billowing fabric. 

"Do you all hear me?!"

He snarled through his breaths, finding each inhale like squeezing down glass. Every push out forced a noise that was so guttural in a fit of rage he ripped the chains off of his vest screamed with each dizzy step along the planks. Another and another, hoarse and clawing the air without purpose until all he could spit out was long sobs for his shame, sinking to the floor with him as hands far too good for him scooped under his shoulders.

"Dutch, for god sakes, let me help you-" Susan grunted as she hauled him up again, trying to get him right once more in a failing battle of hands pushing back. "Let me help!" She shrieked, silencing the world entirely around them. 

The lungs on this woman. Dutch shuddered from a zipper of something traveling down his nerves like a telegraph, delivering a message that his legs obeyed- sit. 

So he did, shoved back down with the threat of being strapped in from every belt in camp. He kept his head low, eyes scrunched so tight that the surrounding skin numbed and his teeth bared. His lips had pushed themselves back so far that he was snarling through his next heaves. Susan's hands ensured his own gripped the edges of the bed and away from himself.

"Please, talk to me." Susan's voice whispered to him.

It was easy to shake his head, so he did. He was struggling to breathe, blindly fumbling for her hands which laced and squeezed back so painfully that he didn't let go.

"I just...I'm so lost." It killed him, to hear his voice in a hoarse wheeze. "I'm so lost and I'm so tired, Susan." 

For the first time in so long, he felt no love for philosophy. Everything ached, everything smoldered. When he opened his eyes, there was a weight in his stare that made him feel decrepit. Her eyes were glassy and she had been biting her lip, though strength was found in their shared stare to remove a hand and cup his cheek. 

Touched, he placed his own on top of hers, shaking breaths through a sincere attempt at a smile. Maybe he did still have it.

"Where's Arthur." He mumbled into her fingers when they tried to shush him. The best he could do was wheeze out a small laugh that she matched.

"He's out near Strawberry, finding some feller up in the hills over a money thing. Maybe a robbery, who knows with that fool." Susan plucked some fuzz out of his mustache. She flicked his nose when he kissed her fingers. 

"Not out in Valentine?"

"No. You heard me? Have you been drinking?"

"Oh, thank God..." 

Light as it was, he did deserve the smack across his jaw when he kissed her hand. 

"Woman, I'm being thankful."

"I heard that before too, you dog." Susan sassed, but bit her tongue on the topic in mind. Instead, she narrowed her gaze at him. "What happened to you in Valentine?" 

[fleshybones]

My favorite bands are Live, Bush, Alice In Chains, Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jam, Motley Crue, Heart, Deep Purple, Porno for Pyros, Guns & Roses , The Shits, Minus the Bear, Blind Melon, Violent Femmes, Smashig Pumpkins, RealEstate, The Byrds, Pixies, America, Collective Soul, Interpol, Silversun Pickups, Kottonmouth Kings, Blur, My Bloody Valentine (when they were indie instead of Dark), Broken Bells,  Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Talking Heads, Foster the People, Neutal Milk Hotel, Queens of the Stoneage, Galaxie 500, Grizly bear, the Antlers, Arcade Fire, Rolling Stones, The Who

Live Concerts I had enjoyed that were deleted: Yes, Billy Idol, Todd Rundgren, Jane’s Addiction, the Doors, Heart, Fleetwood Mac, Blondie, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Coldplay 

I am interested in Heart, Jefferson Airplane, The Association, Grateful Dead, Kenny Loggins, the Monkees, Boston, Poison, Motley Crue, cheech & Chong, cheap trip, the guess who, Peter frampton, grand funk (red), Gordon light foot, van Morrison , foreigner 

CD case fill with some psychedelic albums from 60s

Vintage cartoons from the 

Broadcast – haha Sound

Pharoah Sanders – Karma

Syd Barrett – The Madcap Laughs

Comets on Fire – Blue Cathedral

Silver Apples – Silver Apples

Oranssi Pazuzu - Värähtelijä

Blue Cheer – Vincebus Eruptum

Radiohead – Kid A

Boards of Canada – Music Has the Right To Children

Baroness – Yellow and Green X

Black Sabbath – Black Sabbath

Shuggie Otis – Inspiration Information

Deerhunter – Cryptograms X

Lush – Spooky X

The Byrds – Fifth Dimension

The 13th Floor Elevators – The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators

Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion

Caribou – Up In Flames

Beach Boys – Surf’s Up

Olivia Tremor Control – Dusk At Cubist Castle

Hawkwind – Space Ritual

The Orb – The Orb’s Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld

Genesis – Foxtrot X

Talking Heads – Fear of Music X

Frank Zappa – Hot Rats

Various Artists – Nuggets: Original Artyfacts from the First Psychedelic Era, 1965–1968

The Jimi Hendrix Experience – Electric Ladyland

Prince – Sign ‘O’ The Times

Shadow – Endtroducing…

Boredoms – Vision Creation Newsun

Yes – Fragile

Neutral Milk Hotel – In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

Pink Floyd – Animals

My Bloody Valentine – Loveless

Mutantes – Os Mutantes

King Crimson – In the Court of the Crimson King

Sly and the Family Stone – Stand!

The Velvet Underground – The Velvet Underground & Nico

The Jimi Hendrix Experience – Are You Experienced?

Alice Coltrane – Journey in Satchidananda

Pink Floyd – Piper At the Gates of Dawn

Love – Forever Changes X

Flaming Lips – The Soft Bulletin

Spiritualized – Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space

Zombies – Odessey and Oracle X

Beach Boys – SMiLE

Miles Davis – Bitches Brew

Can – Tago Mago

The Beatles – Revolver

Funkadelic – Maggot Brain

Notes on Movies:

Malignant, Night House, Spider-Man Homecoming, The Eyes of Tammy Faye, The Alpinist, Swan Song, Old, Candyman, Venom , The colour out of space, Haunt, Doctor Sleep, The Lodge, Lucky Day, Stuber ,Tammy ,The Heat , Moonlight, Suicide Squad1&2, The Conjuring 3, Snake Eyes, Spiral , The Sparks Brothers, New Jurassic Park , Cruella, CryMacho , Halloween Kills, Ron’s Gone Wrong , The French Dispatch , Last Night in Soho, Antlers , Dune, Ghostbusters Aftrlife , Rava the last dragon , Licorice Pizza , The Lost City , The Northman , Father Stu , Firestarter , Everything Everywhere All At Once , Memory , Moon fall, Morbius , Ghostbusters Afterlife , Last Night in Soho , The Last Son ,No Time To Die , Nightbirde , Azor, Belfast ,Devil’s Fruit, Yellowstone , 1883, Encanto, The Matrix Ressurection, Voyagers, Of stars & Men , Tony Hawk Proving Ground , Skate Girl, Getting Nowhere Faster , Quit Your Day Job , Devoured by Gravity, Blade Runner 2019 , Battle of the sexes, Cake , Willoughbys , Tim burton , Night of the living dead, Fright night , The lost boys , Beetlejuice , Garden state, Orange County , Bubble Boy, Clueless , The Good Girl, Crazy/Beautiful, The Girl Next Door, Out Cold , Fast Times, Valley Girls, Grease , Donnie Darko, Brady Bunch , Bedknobs & broomsticks, Smart house , Johnny tsunami, Free Willy , Touchstone Pictures , Raiders of the lost arc , in the valley of the dolls, Rosemary’s Baby Ira Levin ,Down and Out in Beverly Hills.1986, 1987 Wall Street 

MOVIES: GENRE HORROR 

Amityville horror Portal  Halloween town Hour of the wolf Blue velvet  Thrilling Alfred Hitchcock Psycho Vertigo North by northwest Rear window Strangers on a train Dial M for murder  Rebecca  Poltergeist 1-4 When a stranger calls  Last house on the left  My bloody valentine 3D Happening  Disturbia Insidious 1-3 The conjuring 1-2 One missed call Stay alive  The fog The forest  Under wraps Hocus pocus  Flight plan  Mama  The eye  The thing Annabelle The visit The monster  The disappointment room  Viral  The Void  The love witch  Split Don't breathe  The Ring 1-2 The Evil Dead The midnight hour Bubba ho tep  Hotel Rwanda Darkness Falls  Bound  Tales from the crypt Sucker punch  The Heist  The vvitch

•My favorite movies : A Walk to Remember Hide&Seek  Breakfast Club Ed.tv  Toy Story  Ponyo Perks of Being a Wallflower  Child’s Play  Eurotrip  Napolean Dynamite  Signs Pursuit of Happiness  Da Vinci Code   The Watch Eternal sunshine  Dazed & Confused  The Fountain   Zodiac  Shawn of the Dead  The Reader  MissMarch  Fire it Up  Project X The Happening  Angels & Demons  Sex Drive Leprauchan Labyrinth  Butterfly Effect  Blue Crush ACM special classic Pocahontas Thebirds  Dr.Strangelove Smokey and the Bandit1  James Bond Skyfall  Who Framed Roger Rabbit  Neverending Story A Cure For Wellness Nocturnal Animals  Dr. Zhivago Stepbrothers Jaws  Clue  Children of the Corn  Saturday Night Fever  Crimson Peake  Tomb raider  Brothers Karamazov Snow white  The Box Trolls Kujo and the two strings  Singin’in the rain  Les Miserables SLC Punk  Cirque de Soleil AmimalHouse  one fell over the Cuckoo nest  west side story  Close encounters of the 3rd kind Swiss family Robinson thunder island niptuck  the big Lebowski  Sid the Kid ‘Syd & Nancy’   Little miss sunshine Mad world  The Outsider Lord of the Flies Willy Wonka  and the chocolate factory SecondHand   LionsThe Wizard of Oz  Revenge of the Nerds Alice in Wonderland  The Bad Batch  Point Break  once Upon a Time in Hollywood  Space Troopers SuperStar The Goonies  Little Shop of Horrors  Sleepy Hollow  The Prestige /Proletariat  The Lost Boys   Honey I shrunk the kid Dinosaurs  Freaky little Fuckers Coyote Ugly Rainbow Brite they smoke peyote in Amillion ways to Die in the West  Buster Scruggs brokeback Mountain  Silent Hill White Noise Sword and Stone Bedknobs and Broomsticks  Date Night ..

Her won’t go down to the water edge 🎵

[longlistshort]

“Valentine”, 2022, oil on linen

(“Braid”, 2022, oil on linen and detail shot)

The two colorful paintings above are from Andrea Belag’s 2023 solo exhibition, Currents, at Bienvenu Steinberg & J in New York.

From the gallery’s press release-

Since the 1990s, Belag has constantly modified her approach to abstraction through various transitions and mutations. Her internal genealogy matters as much as her relationship to a tradition of abstraction. In the words of artist and critic Julian Kreimer: “it’s not hard to metaphorize those traces, lines left behind by larger swaths of paint that were wiped away, lines whose own shifting colors reveal how they are made by what they’ve touched and changed. But as with so many of Belag’s paintings, the point isn’t to nail down the metaphors (…) Belag’s work becomes an edge condition for painting without flirting with minimalist near-nothingness; it tests out where beauty can emerge, and what we can get to work. It opens up from a few wiped shapes into a sophisticated object able to transport one into a reverie about slippage, slipping away, the here and not hereness of life, death, and the varieties of love”.

Geometry and order have progressively given place to swirling swaths of color, solidity replaced by suspended motion. Painting is an all consuming action. She paints standing up, leaning over and often walking around the canvas placed horizontally. It starts with the arm and as she walks around the canvas her whole body gets involved. Transparent colors on the surface are not fixed and can create form or dissolve into light. She rubs, smudges, and scraps to create translucent, softly luminous surfaces where the brushwork is strikingly visible. “My paintings are contemporary because I paint in the here and now. It’s unavoidable. The artists I feel indebted to are Henri Matisse, Mary Heilmann, Joan Mitchell, Gerhard Richter, Bill Traylor, and Japanese Zen gardens. Style is a dead-end, but I have a point of view. I love transparency and the touch of materials, so I have created a way of painting where I make this possible. I use mostly transparent pigments and fine linen, and I paint wet into wet. The marks are on one layer of the painted surface with very little overlap or pentimento. Color makes space and light come through the paint and emotion comes through as well. There is fear and desire in painting, and that’s addictive. Haptics are the touchstones.” (Andrea Belag, 2023)

Her current solo exhibition, Twombly’s Green, opened this week at Steven Harvey Fine Art Projects.

From their press release-

This grouping of work is, as the title suggests, inspired by Belag’s recollection of Cy Twombly’s use of the color Hooker’s green in his “Pond Paintings.” She writes-

These paintings are inspired by my memory of Twombly’s green and white paintings that I first saw in the Menil Collection in Houston in 2015. I was stunned by his paint handling and his use of Hooker’s Green. Since then, I learned he painted quickly and directly with his hands. Discovering the “Pond Paintings” was unexpected and I kept thinking about them. Hooker’s green is opaque and dark. But the dark value doesn’t overwhelm the hue. Instead, there is richness and depth without a trace of yellow. When I identified the pigment and started to paint with it, I felt a vibration. There was a time when painting with green was taboo and now it is ubiquitous. Is green in the zeitgeist?

All painted within the last twelve months, these works are a continuation of the artist’s practice of lush, energetic abstraction. Playing with circularity in an ongoing attempt to “get away from the grid,” Belag uses color as forms in space, bodies set in motion. Citing foundational inspirations in Matisse and Guston, who she later studied with at the New York Studio School, Belag’s work can also be related to vanguard practitioners of 80s abstraction such as Bill Jensen, David Reed and Mary Heilmann. Her immediate peers Christopher Wool and Joyce Pensato are also compass points in the stripped down dedication to raw painterly brio they share.

This exhibition is on view until 4/13/24.

[dystini]

Indycar RPF Monthly Challenges

No sign ups, no pressure. Join if you are inspired. If things come up and you don't do it/finish it, no big deal. No limit on number of stories you can write. Combine the different challenges together if you want. Ignore the things that don’t inspire you. Really, anything goes.

We’re not going to count your words for the drabble so if you are a word over or a word under, it’s fine. It’s more about the attempt and challenging yourself.

You may post your drabbles/double drabbles in this thread (2000 character limit) if you don’t want to put them on Ao3. You may post Ao3 links or if you’re comfortable with it, share a Google docs link.

A prompt inspires a longer fic that you can’t finish in one month? Wonderful. Give us a teaser or a snippet and don’t forget to post in ⁠published-fics when you put it on Ao3.

5 words – random words to spark an idea.

Random pairings are chosen by literally picking names from a hat.

Chatting/venting/cheering/asking for help about your challenge fic(s) is encouraged.

Suggestions for prompts may be sent to @dystini (me)

Not all prompts are for everyone. Please ignore the ones that aren’t your thing and during discussions do not shame those who do choose to use them.

There will be a new thread for each month.

Kink and Dark/Taboo prompt discussions should be spoilered (or if needed, moved to a new thread

Threads mentioned are on the Push To Pass Discord server. Message me for an invite.

February Challenges

Write a drabble (exactly 100 words)

Write a sci-fi story – Space (The Final Frontier, sorry, had to do it.), spaceships, aliens, other planets. Explore the hidden corners of the galaxy. Make them race spaceships.

5 words – Traveling, Lush, Swing, Pirate, Rebellion

Theme - Love

Events - Valentine’s Day | Carnival of Brazil | Groundhog Day | Chinese New Year (Year of the Dragon) | Mardi Gras | Imbolc | Candlemas | Lupercalia | Leap Day

Random Pairings – Josef Newgarden/Marcus Armstrong | Callum Ilott/Scott Dixon | Tony Kanaan/ Alex Rossi

Prompts

A: So…what are we? Are we… B: A, we've been dating for the last two weeks. A: WE HAVE?! B: You are an idiot. I love you.

-+-

Your character has an unwavering belief that love is strictly a choice. They have made the choice to not get involved at all. Relationships only bring drama and heartbreak and they want none of it. What will it take to change their mind?

-+-

Whumpee who bites. Literally. Whumper gets too close? Gets bitten. Caretaker tries to touch them as a way to comfort them? Gets bitten. Whumpee just being a feral little creature and biting anyone who they deem a threat. Especially if they’re trying to make themself look big and threatening. This could also work really well for a nonhuman whumpee

Kink - Body Worship

Dark/taboo prompt - Blackmailing

We now have a collection to put your fics in on Ao3. There will be a new collection for each month.

[rustedhearts]

happy valentine's day from dad boxer!steve in 1998

tags: fluff, smut-ish at the end because the harringtons still get freaky after parenthood

Glue, glitter, sequins, and paper scraps cluttered the dining room table. You carefully cut a piece of red paper into a heart over the drawn line, tongue perched between your lips. Jane waited patiently in her seat, plucking up feathers and a capped glue-stick to bang on her highchair.

You slid the paper, now heart-shaped, her way and gently took the feather from her hand. "Okay, Janey, what do you want to draw for Daddy?"

She babbled her reply, and you were able to reasonably make out a few sounds she used for her version of words. Butterflies were her new fixation—they practically threw up all over her room. She loved all things to do with the color red, applesauce, and her dad. So, you plopped her into her highchair, gave her an applesauce, and promised craft-time while Steve was training.

She, of course, wanted to draw a butterfly. You wrapped her chubby hand around a blue crayon, guiding her hand through a jagged butterfly shape. She drew three, and then you held the jars of glitter before her.

"Which color, Janey?"

She grabbed at the white, and you slid the paper your way to sprinkle a small amount of glitter over a trail of glue. When it was finished, you handed it back to her and set a collection of crayons beside her, allowing her to scribble to her heart's desire.

Feeling silly and indulgent, you made your own for Steve, as well.

The sound of the front door unlocking caused your head to snap up. His sneakers squeaking over the polished floors had Janey bouncing happily—she knew the familiar sounds of Steve's arrival all too well.

Moments later, he came staggering into the room—a little lopsided in his step—with a lush, cellophane-wrapped bouquet of pink roses, and a single red rose wrapped with a white bow. He had bags under his arms and a wide grin on his face as he entered the room.

"Daddy!" Jane squealed, her excitement mirroring his as her hands flailed for him.

Steve immediately swooped in to smack a kiss on her pudgy cheek. "Hi, my Janey. Missed you."

When she as sufficiently giddy, he carefully tiptoed toward your end of the table and swept his hand under your chin. You beamed in his hold, cheeks warm.

"Hi, Daddy," you cooed teasingly, making him snicker as he approached your mouth.

The kiss was languid and warm and flavored with mint gum. You knew it meant he smoked a cigarette on the ride over and attempted to mask the taste—but you couldn't be upset wit him on Valentine's Day.

"Hi, angel," he murmured. He straightened up and held out the bouquet. "For you."

You brought them into your arms with a blinding grin, dipping down to breathe in their sweetness. Steve stooped Jane's way again, showing her the rose.

"And for you, little chick. Shoppin' for both my girls now."

Another kiss popped on her cheek, and you stood from the table to place your own on Steve's jaw. He watched you twirl your way toward the sink, pulling a large vase for your flowers and a tiny single-stemmed for Jane's to fill them with water. They came to sit in the center of the cluttered table.

As you sank back into your seat, Steve craned his head over your shoulder.

"Whatcha makin'?"

You immediately clamped your hands over the Valentines. "Nothing. You can't see yet. Tell him, Janey."

Steve's eyes slid Jane's way, but the toddler was gnawing on her sticky fingers. He chuckled, hand braced on the back of your high-back chair. He fit his head into your neck, mouth ghosting hot air across the sensitive skin. You squirmed and giggled, fingers pushing through the front of his damp hair.

"M' gonna go shower."

"Okay."

As he headed toward the door, you eyed the colorful shopping bags in his hand, packaged prettily with bows and tissue paper.

"What are those?" you called.

He continued walking, calling as he headed down the hall: "You can't see yet."

The handmade Valentines were posted on the refrigerator, properly cooed and cawed over when Jane waddled Steve's way after dinner and handed them to him. He hoisted her into his lap and smattered her with kisses, to which she squealed and giggled until she had hiccups.

She went down easily for the night, tucked in with a soft pink butterfly blanket in her crib. You tiptoed out of the nursery and into your bedroom, finding Steve on the edge of the bed with the shopping bags splayed out.

You bit away a grin, leaning against the doorway. "Are those mine?"

He cocked his head. "Come see."

You skimped his way, stopped before his feet so his hands could roam your thighs.

"Gotta get naked first, angel."

You frowned. "Why?"

He patted your thigh gently, head tipped back to blink up at you. "You'll see."

You stripped and waited, handed first a small pink bag. Inside was a pink lace teddy, delicately draped over your head until it pooled toward your thighs.

The next bag was a tiny white one, which housed a leather box. Inside, a diamond necklace that fit perfectly around your neck, cool against your throat.

The final bag was a two for one. A pink satin blindfold, and a pair of steel handcuffs. You giggled as you handed them off to Steve, who spun you to face the bed with his hard cock pressed into your back.

He tugged your arms behind your back, clicking the cuffs in place just enough to keep you from wriggling. His arms draped over your shoulders, bringing the soft fabric of the blindfold over your eyes. It came into a bow at the back of your head.

Steve's lips brushed your cheek, hot breath fanning the bare skin of your neck. "Glad you waited, angel?"

You nodded with another giggle. "Mhm."

He swept the back of two fingers over your cheek: up, down, so gently it made you shiver. Down the side of your neck, pausing only to rub his thumb into your pulse point. You waited with bated breaths, shuddered in and out in anticipation.

Finally, his lips returned to your cheek. "On your knees."

He spun you first, and you sank blindly until the familiar fibers of your bedroom carpet came to your knees. Steve's gaze followed you the whole way down, smiling triumphantly when you thumped to the floor. His fingers grazed your shoulders, bracing them, letting you know where he was. As if you couldn't feel the warmth of his cock in front of your mouth, still zipped and tucked away.

"Gonna thank me properly?" he mumbled.

The tinkle of his belt buckle had you swallowing and shifting on your knees. "Yes, Steve."

He freed his cock, jeans pooled around his socked feet, and held it before your waiting mouth.

"Don't forget to say 'please.'"