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#Mount Garfield
dabiconcordia · 9 months
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The Mesa Wind Blows Soft
The Mesa wind blows soft tonight, The western stars bend low, Self-shadowed in the firelight Old dreams, old visions go.
The mesa wind's a soft caress, Cool fingers in my hair; Soft whispers out of lonliness That breath a lonely prayer...
O mesa wind go far to her With kisses carried high, And tell her mountain grasses stir And 'wait her passing by;
Go tell her that the mesa trail Lies yellow in the sun, And clouds, like dreams, ride white and frail— Lost longings, one by one. by Arthur Owen Peterson
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thorsenmark · 7 months
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I know I was born and I know that I'll die
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I know I was born and I know that I'll die by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: I know I was born and I know that I'll die The in-between is mine from I Am Mine, Pearl Jam While at a roadside pullout along U.S. Route 550 with a view looking to the south across a valley to more distant ridges and peaks of the San Juan Mountains. This is in San Juan National Forest. My thought on composing this image was to take advantage of the channelized view that the valley created between the ridges and mountain sides. I attempted to align as best I could the peaks of Mount Garfield off in the distance in the image center. Rush was metering the image to not blow any of the highlights present on this bright day while still being able to pull the more shadowed areas later on and post-production.
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1968 [Chapter 9: Dionysus, God Of Ecstasy]
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Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.
Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.
Word Count: 5.9k
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰
💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜
The October surprise is a great American tradition. As the phases of the moon revolve towards Election Day, the candidates and their factions seek to ruin each other. Lies are told, truths are exposed, Tyche smiles and Achlys brews misery, poison, the fog of death that grows over men like ivy. The stars align. The wolves snap their jaws.
In 1844, an abolitionist newspaper falsely accused James K. Polk of branding his slaves like cattle. In 1880, a letter supposedly authored by James Garfield—in actuality, forged by a New York journalist—welcomed Chinese immigrants in an era when they were being lynched by xenophobic mobs in Los Angeles and San Francisco. In 1920, a rumor emerged that Warren Harding had Black ancestry, an allegation his campaign fervently denied to keep the support of the Southern states. In 1940, FDR’s press secretary assaulted a police officer outside of Madison Square Garden. In 1964, one of LBJ’s top aids was arrested for having gay sex at the Washington D.C. YMCA.
Now, in 1968, Senator Aemond Targaryen of New Jersey is realizing that he will not be the beneficiary of the October surprise he’s dreamed of: his wife’s redemptive pregnancy, a blossoming first family. There is a civil rights protest that turns into a riot in Milwaukee; this helps Nixon, the candidate of law and order. For every fire lit and window shattered, he sees a bump in the polls from businessowners and suburbanites who fear anarchy. Breaking news of the My Lai massacre—committed back in March but only now brought to light—airs on NBC, horrifying the American public and bolstering support for Aemond, the man who has vowed to begin ending the war as soon as he’s sworn into office. The two contestants are deadlocked. Election Day could be a photo finish.
Nixon is in Texas. Wallace is in Arkansas. In Florida, Aemond visits the Kennedy Space Center and pledges to fulfill JFK’s promise to put a man on the moon by 1970. He makes a speech at the Mary McLeod Bethune Home commending her work as an educator, philanthropist, and humanitarian. He greets soldiers at the Naval Air Station in Pensacola. He feeds chickens to the alligators at the Saint Augustine Alligator Farm Zoological Park.
But it is not the senator the crowds cheer loudest for. It is his wife, his future first lady, here in her home state where she staunched her husband’s hemorrhaging blood and appeared before his well-wishers still marked with crimson handprints. In Tarpon Springs, she and Aemond attend mass at the Saint Nicholas Greek Orthodox Cathedral and pray at an altar made of white marble from Athens. Then they stand on the docks as flashbulbs strobe all around them, watching sponge divers reappear from the depths, breaking through the bubbling sapphire water like Heracles ascending to Mount Olympus.
~~~~~~~~~~
You kick off your high heels, tear the pins and clips out of your hair, and flop down onto the king-sized bed in your suite at the Breakers Hotel. It’s the same place Aemond was almost assassinated five months ago. He has returned in triumph, in defiance. He cannot be killed. It is God’s will.
You are alone for these precious fleeting moments. Aemond is in Otto’s suite discussing the itinerary for tomorrow: confirmations, cancellations, reshufflings. You pick up the pink phone from the nightstand on Aemond’s side of the bed and dial the number for the main house at Asteria. It’s 9 p.m. here as well as there. Through the window you can see inky darkness and the kaleidoscopic glow of the lights of Palm Beach. The Zenith radio out in the kitchenette is playing Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones. No intercession from Eudoxia is necessary this time; Aegon answers on the second ring.
“Yeah?” he says, slow and lazy like he’s been smoking something other than Lucky Strikes.
“Hey.” And then after a pause, twirling the phone cord around your fingers as you stare up at the ceiling: “It’s me.”
“Oh, I know. Should I take off my pants, or…?” He’s only half-joking.
You smile. “That was stupid. Someone could have bugged the phone.”
“You think Nixon’s guys are wiretapping us? Give me a break. They’re goddamn buffoons. They’re too busy telling cops to beat hippies to death.” You hear him taking a drag off his joint, envision him sprawled across his futon and enshrouded in smoke. “Everything okay down there in the swamp?”
You shrug, even though Aegon can’t see you. “It’s fine.”
“Just fine?”
“My parents were there when we stopped in Tarpon Springs. They kept telling everyone how proud they are of me, and I just felt so…dishonest.”
“Of course they’re proud. If Aemond wins, the war ends and more civil rights bills get passed and this hell we’ve all been living in since 1963 goes away.”
“I miss you,” you confess.
“You’ll be back soon to enjoy me in all my professional loser glory.” He’s right: Aemond’s entourage will spend Halloween at Asteria. You’ll take the children trick-or-treating around Long Beach Island—with journalists in tow, of course—and then host a party with plentiful champagne and Greek hors d’oeuvres, one last reprieve before the momentous slog towards Election Day on November 5th, a reward for the campaign staffers and reporters who have served Aemond so well. “What are you going to dress up as?”
“Someone happy,” you say, and Aegon chuckles, low and sardonic. “Actually, nothing. Aemond and Otto have decided that it would be undignified for the future president and first lady to be photographed in costumes, so I will be wearing something festive yet not at all fun.”
“Aemond has always been somewhat confused by the concept of fun.”
“What are you going to be for Halloween?”
You can hear the grin in his voice as he exhales smoke. “A cowboy.”
“A cowboy,” you repeat, giggling. “You aren’t serious.”
“Extremely serious. I protect the cows, I comfort the cows, I breed the cows…”
“You are mentally ill. You belong in an asylum.”
“I ride the cows…”
“Cowboys do not ride cows.”
“Maybe this one does.”
“I thought you liked being ridden.”
Aegon groans with what sounds like genuine discomfort. “Don’t tease me. You know I’m celibate at the moment.”
“Miraculous. Astonishing. The Greek Orthodox Church should canonize you. What have you been doing with all of your newfound free time?”
“Taking the kids out sailing, hiding from Doxie, trying not to step on the Alopekis…and playing Battleship with Cosmo. He has a very loose understanding of the rules.”
“He does. I remember.”
“He keeps asking when you’ll be back.”
“Really?” you ask hopefully.
“Yeah, it’s cute. And he calls you Io because he heard me do it.”
“Not an appropriate myth for children, I think.”
“Cosmo’s what, seven years old?”
“Five.”
“Close enough. I think I knew about death and torment and Zeus being a slut by then.”
“And you have no resulting defects whatsoever.” You roll over onto your belly and slide open the drawer of the nightstand. Instead of the card Aegon gave you at Mount Sinai—you’ve forgotten that you’re on Aemond’s side of the bed—you find something bizarre, unexpected, just barely able to fit. “Oh my God, there’s a…there’s a Ouija board in the nightstand!”
Aegon laughs incredulously. “There’s a what?!”
“A Ouija board!” You sit upright and shimmy it out, holding the phone to your ear with one shoulder. The small wooden planchette slides off the board and clatters against the bottom of the drawer. “Why the hell would Aemond have this…?”
“He’s trying to summon the ghost of JFK to stab Nixon.”
“Oh wow, it’s heavy.” You skim your fingertips over the black numbers and letters etched into the wooden board. There’s something ominous about the Good Bye written across the bottom. You can’t beckon the dead into the land of the living without reminding them that they aren’t welcome to stay.
“Aemond is such a freak. Is it a Parker Brothers one, like for kids…?”
“No, I think it’s custom made. It feels substantial, expensive. Hold on, there’s something engraved on the back.” You flip over the Ouija board so you can see what your hands have already felt. The inscription reads in onyx cursive letters: No ghosts can harm you. The stars were never better than the day you were born. With love through all the ages, Alys.
“What’s it say?” Aegon asks from his basement at Asteria.
You’re staring down at the Ouija board, mystified. “Who’s Alys?”
Instead of an answer, Aegon gives you a deep sigh. “Oh. Yeah, she would give him something like that. Fucking creepy witch bullshit.”
“Aegon, who’s Alys?” She’s his mistress. She has to be. It fills your skull like flashbulbs, like lightning: Aemond climbing on top of another woman, conquering her, owning her, binding her up in his mythology like a spider building a web. And what you feel when the shock begins to dissolve isn’t envy or pain or betrayal but—strangely, paradoxically—hope. “She’s his girl, right?”
“Please don’t be mad at me for not telling you,” Aegon says. “There wasn’t a good time. When I hated you I didn’t care if he was fucking around, and then after what happened in New York I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t know how you’d take it. It’s not your fault, there’s nothing wrong with you. She was here first. He’d have kept Alys around if he married Aphrodite herself.”
“I’m not mad.” You’re distracted, that’s what you are; you’re plotting. “Where is she?”
“She lives in Washington state. I’m not sure exactly where, I think Aemond moves her a lot. He doesn’t want anyone to see him around and start noticing a pattern. Neighbors, shopkeepers, cops, whoever.”
“Washington.” Just like when Ari died. Just like when Aemond didn’t come back. “Who knows about her?”
“Just the family. Fosco and Mimi found out because when they married in, the fights were still happening. Otto and Viserys demanding he give Alys up, Aemond refusing. It’s the only thing he ever did wrong, the only line he drew. He said he needed her. She could never be his first lady, but she could be something else.”
“His mistress.”
“Yeah,” Aegon says reluctantly. “Are you…are you okay?”
“I’m okay. What’s wrong with Alys?”
“What?”
“Why couldn’t Aemond marry her?”
“I mean, she’s the type of psycho who gives people Ouija boards, first of all,” Aegon says. “And she’s…she’s not educated. Her family’s trash. She’s older than Aemond. Hell, she’s older than me. She would be an unmitigated disaster on the campaign trail. She unnerves people. But Aemond, he…”
“He loves her,” you whisper, reading the engraving on the back of the board again. “And she loves him.”
“I guess. Whatever love means to them.”
A thought occurs to you, the first one to bring you pain like a needle piercing flesh. “Does she have children?”
Again, Aegon sounds reticent to disclose this. “A boy. Aemond’s the father.”
“How old?”
“I don’t know, I think he’s around ten now.”
And that’s Aemond’s true heir. Not Ari, not any others he would have with me. That place in his heart is taken. He couldn’t mourn the loss of our son because he already has one with the woman he loves.
Out in the living room of the suite, you hear the front door open. There are footsteps, Aemond’s polished black leather shoes.
Aegon is asking: “Are you sure you’re okay? Hello? Babe? Hello? Are you still there?”
“I’m fine. I gotta go.”
“Wait, no, not yet—!”
“Bye.” You hang up the phone and wait for Aemond to discover you. You’re still clutching the Ouija board. You’re perched on the edge of the bed like something ready to pounce, to kill.
Aemond opens the bedroom door, navy blue suit, blonde hair short and slicked back, his eyepatch covering his empty left socket. He’s begun wearing his eyepatch in public more often—not for every appearance, but for some of them—and whoever finally convinced him to concede this battle wasn’t you. His right eye goes to you and then to the Ouija board in your hands. He doesn’t speak or move to take the board, only studies you warily.
“I know about her,” you tell him.
Still, Aemond says nothing.
“Alys,” you press. “She’s your mistress. You’re in love with her.”
“I did not intend to hurt you.” His words are flat, steely.
“I’m not hurt, Aemond.”
“You shouldn’t have ever known about this. I apologize for not being more discrete. It was a lapse in judgment.” But what he regrets most, you think, is that his secret is less contained, more imperiled.
“What we have is a political arrangement,” you say. The desperation quivers in your voice. “You don’t love me, you never have, and now we can be open about it. You need me to win the White House, but that’s all. Your true companion is elsewhere. I want the same thing.”
He steps closer, eye narrowing, iris glinting coldly, puzzled like he couldn’t have understood you correctly. “What?”
“I want to be permitted to have my own happiness outside of this imitation of a marriage.”
“No,” Aemond says instantly.
Your stomach sinks, dark iron disappointment. “But…but…why?”
“Because I don’t trust you to not get caught. Because I need to be sure that I am the father of the children you’ll give birth to. And because as my wife you are mine, and mine alone.”
Tears brim in your eyes; embers burn in your throat. “You’re asking for my life. My whole life, all of it, everything I’ll ever experience, everything I’ll ever feel. I get one chance on this planet and you’re stealing it away from me.”
“Yes,” Aemond agrees simply.
“So where’s my consolation?” you demand. “You get Alys, so where’s mine?”
“What do you want?”
You don’t reply, but you glare at your husband with eternal rage like Hera’s, with fatal vitriol like Medusa’s.
“You think I don’t know about that little card you keep in your nightstand?” Aemond is furious, betrayed. “You used to hate him.”
“I was wrong.”
“Because he was at Mount Sinai and I wasn’t? Three days undid everything we’ve ever been to each other? Our oaths, our ambitions?!”
“No,” you say, tears slipping down the contours of your cheeks. “Because he’s real. He doesn’t try to manipulate people into loving him, he doesn’t pretend to be someone he’s not, when he’s cruel it’s because he means it and when he’s kind that’s genuine too. And he wants to know me, who I really am. Not the woman I have to act like to get you elected. Not who you’re trying to turn me into—”
Aemond has crossed the room, grabbed the front of your teal Chanel dress, and yanked you to your feet. The Ouija board jolts out of your hands and lands on the carpet unharmed. Your long hair is in disarray, your eyes wide and fearful. You try to push Aemond away, but he ignores you. You can’t sway him. You’ve never been able to. “Aegon has nothing to his name except what this family gives him,” Aemond snarls, hushed, hateful. His venom is not for his brother but for you. You have upended the natural order of things. You have dared to deny Zeus what he has been divinely granted dominion over. “You would jeopardize his wellbeing, his access to his children? You would ruin yourself? You would doom this nation? If you cost me the election, every drop of blood spilled is on your hands, every body bag flown home from Vietnam, every martyr killed by injustice here. What you ask for is worse than being a traitor and a whore. It is sacrilege.”
“Let go of me—”
“And there’s one more thing.” Aemond pulls you closer so he knows you’re paying attention. You’re sobbing now, trembling, choking on his cologne, shrinking away from his furnace-heat wrath. “Aegon isn’t capable of love. Not the kind you’re imagining. He gets infatuated, and he uses people, and then he moves on. You think he never charmed Mimi, never made her feel cherished by him? And look how she ended up. I’m trying to carve your name into legend beside mine. Aegon will take you to your grave.”
Your husband shoves you away, storms out of the bedroom, slams the door so hard the walls quake.
~~~~~~~~~~
Parading down streets like the victors of a fallen city, jack-o-lanterns keeping watch with their laceration grins of firelight. Hecate is the goddess of witchcraft, Hades rules the Underworld, Selene is the half-moon peeking through clouds in an overcast sky. The stars elude you.
The children—ghosts, pirates, princesses, witches—dash from doorstep to doorstep like soldiers in Vietnam search tunnels. They smile and pose in their outfits when the journalists prompt them, beaming and waving, showing off their Dots, Tootsie Pops, Sugar Daddies, Smarties, Razzles, and candy cigarettes before depositing them in the plastic orange pumpkins that swing from their wrists. Only Cosmo, dressed as Teddy Roosevelt with lensless glasses and a stuffed lion thrown over one shoulder, stays with the adults. He is the last one to each house, approaching the doorway reticently like it might swallow him up, inspiring fond chuckles and encouragement from the reporters. He clutches your hand and hides behind you when towering monsters lumber by: King Kong, Frankenstein, vampires with fake blood spilling from their mouths.
Aemond wears a black suit with orange accents: tie, pocket square, socks. You glimmer in a black dress dotted with white stars, clicking down the sidewalk in boots that run to your knees, silver eyeshadow, heavy liner. You almost look your own age. There are large star-shaped barrettes in your pinned-up hair, bent glinting metal. As the reporters snap photos of you and Cosmo walking together, they shout: “You’ll be such a great mother one day, Mrs. Targaryen!”
Fosco is Ettore Boiardi—better known as Chef Boyardee—an Italian immigrant who came through Ellis Island in 1914 with a dream of opening a spaghetti business. Helaena, Alicent, and Ludwika are, respectively, Alice, Wendy, and Cinderella; Ludwika clops along resentfully in her puffy sleeves and too-small clear stilettos. Criston is Peter Pan. Aegon wears a white button-up shirt, cow print vest, ripped jeans, brown leather boots, a cowboy hat that’s too big for him, and a green bandana knotted around his throat. He stays close to you and Cosmo because he can, here where the journalists expect to see him being a devoted father and active participant in the family business of mending a tattered America. Teenagers are fleeing their families to join hippie communes and draftees in Vietnam are getting their limbs blown off and junkies are shooting up on the streets of New York and Chicago and Los Angeles, but here we see a happy family, a perfect family, a holy trinity that thanks the devotees who offer them tribute. Otto, who neglected to don a disguise, glares at you murderously. You have failed to give Aemond a living child. You have dared to want things for yourself.
Back at Asteria in the main house, the children empty their plastic pumpkins on the living room floor and sort through their saccharine treasures, making trades and bargains: “I’ll do your math homework if you give me those Swedish Fish,” “I’ll let you ride my bike for a week if I can have your Mallo Cup.” While the other adults ply themselves with champagne and chain smoke away the stress of the campaign trail, Aegon gets his Caribbean blue Gibson guitar and sits on the couch playing I’m A Believer by The Monkees. The kids clap and sing along between intense confectionary negotiations. Cosmo wants to share his candy cigarettes with you; you pretend to smoke together as sugar melts on your tongue.
Now the children have been sent to bed—mollified with the promise of homemade apple pies tomorrow, another occasion to be documented by swarms of clamoring journalists—and the house becomes a haze of smoke and indistinct conversation and music from the record player. Platters of appetizers have appeared on the dining room table: pita, tzatziki, hummus, melitzanosalata, olives, horiatiki, mini spanakopitas, baklava. Women are chattering about the painstaking labor they put into costumes and men are scheming to deliver death blows to Nixon, setbacks in Vietnam, Klan meetings in Mississippi. Aemond is knocking back Old Fashioneds with Otto and Sargent Shriver. Fosco is dancing in the living room with drunk journalists. Eudoxia is muttering in Greek as she aggressively paws crumbs off of couches and tabletops. Thick red candles flicker until wax melts into a pool of blood at the base.
Through the veil of cigarette smoke and the rumbling bass of Season Of The Witch, Aegon finds you when no one is looking, and you know it’s him without having to turn around. His hand is the only one that doesn’t feel heavy when it skims around your waist. He whispers, soft grinning lips to your ear, rum and dire temptation like Orpheus looking back at Eurydice: “Let’s do some witchcraft.”
You know where Aemond keeps the Ouija board. You take it out of the top drawer of his nightstand in your bedroom with blue walls and portraits of myths in captive frames. Then you descend with Aegon into the basement, down like Persephone when summer ends, down like women crumbling under Zeus’s weight. You remember to lock the door behind you. You’re not high—you can’t smoke grass in a house full of guests who could smell it and take it upon themselves to investigate—but you feel like you are, that lightness that makes everything more bearable, the surreal tilt to the universe, awake but dreaming, truth cloaked in mirages.
Aegon has stolen three red candles from upstairs. He hands one to you, keeps a second for himself, and places the third on his end table beside a myriad of dirty cups. You glimpse at his ashtray and a folded corner of the receipt that’s still tucked beneath it, and you think: I have my card, Aegon has his receipt, Aemond has his Ouija board. I wonder what Alys likes to keep close when she sleeps. Then Aegon clicks off the lamp so the only light is from the flickering candles.
He tosses away his cowboy boots, hat, vest and is down on the green shag carpet with you, his hair messy, his white shirt half-unbuttoned. He’s taking sips of Captain Morgan straight from the glass bottle. He’s lighting a Lucky Strike with the wick of his candle and then giving it to you to puff on as he places the planchette on the board. “Wait, how do we start?”
You exhale smoke, setting your candle down on the carpet and then tugging off your own boots with some difficulty. “We have to say hello.”
“Okay.” Aegon places his fingertips on one side of the heart-shaped planchette and you rest yours lightly on the other. He begins doubtfully: “Hello…?”
“Is there anyone who would like to send us a message from the other side this evening?”
“You’ve done this before,” Aegon accuses.
“I have. In college.”
“With a guy?”
You chuckle, taking a drag as the cigarette smolders between your fingers. “No, with my friends. It’s not really a date activity.”
“I think it’s very romantic. Candles, darkness, danger, who’s gonna protect you when the ghosts start throwing things around…”
“You’d fight a ghost for me?”
“Depends on the ghost. FDR? You got it. I can take a guy in a wheelchair. Teddy? No ma’am. You’re on your own.”
“Which ghost should we summon?”
Aegon ponders this for a moment. “John F. Kennedy, are you in this basement with us right now?”
“That is wrong, that is so wrong.”
“Then why are you smiling?” Aegon says. “JFK, how do you feel about Johnson fucking up your legacy?”
“That is not the kind of question you’re supposed to ask. We’re not on 60 Minutes.”
“JFK, do you haunt the White House?” Aegon drags the planchette to the Yes on the board. “Oh no, I’m scared.”
“You are a cheater, this is a fraudulent Ouija board session.” You put your cigarette out in the ashtray and then take a swig from Aegon’s rum bottle. “JFK, are we gonna make it to the moon before 1970?”
Aegon pulls the planchette to the No. “Damn, Io, bad news. Guess the Russians win the Space Race and then eradicate capitalism across the globe. No more beach houses. No more Mr. Mistys.”
“Give me the planchette, you’re abusing your power.”
“No,” Aegon says, snickering as you try to wrestle it away from him. In his other hand he’s clutching his candle; scarlet beads of wax like blooddrops pepper your skin as you struggle, tiny infernos that burn exquisitely. Red like paint splatter appears on Aegon’s shirt. You grab the green bandana around his throat, but instead of holding him back you’re drawing him closer. The Ouija board and all the world’s ghosts are momentarily forgotten.
“You’re dripping wax on me—”
“Good, I want to get it all over you, then I want to peel it off and rip out your leg hair.”
You’re laughing hysterically as you pretend to try to shove him away. “I’m freshly shaved, you idiot.”
“Everywhere?” Aegon asks, intrigued.
You smirk playfully. “Almost.”
“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up.” Aegon sets his candle down on the carpet and strips away tacky dots of red wax: one from your forearm down by your wrist, another from your neck just below one of your silver hoop earrings, wax from your ankles and your calves and right above your knees. His fingertips are calloused from his guitar, from the ropes of his sailboat. They scratch roughly over you, chipping away who you’re supposed to be.
Then Aegon stops. You follow his gaze down. There is a smudge of wax on the inside of your thigh, extending beneath the hem of your dress, glittering black and white fabric that hides what is forbidden to him. Aegon’s eyes are on you, that troubled opaque blue, drunk and desperate and wild and afraid. With your fingers still hooked beneath his bandana, you say to him like a dare: “Now you’re going to stop?”
His palm skates up the smoothness of your thigh, and as he unpeels that last stain of red wax his other hand cradles your jaw and his lips touch yours, gently at first and then with the ravenousness of someone who’s been dying of thirst for centuries, starving since birth. You’re opening your legs wider for him, and his fingers do not stop at your thigh but climb higher until they are whisking your black lace panties away, exploring your folds and your wetness as his tongue darts between your lips, tasting something he’s been craving forever but only now stumbled into after four decades of darkness, trapped in you like Narcissus at his pool.
You are unknotting his green bandana and letting it fall to the shag carpet. You are unbuttoning the rest of his shirt so you can feel his chest, soft and warm and yielding, safe, real. The candlelight is flickering, the thumping bass of a song you can’t decipher pulsing through the floor above. Now beneath your dress Aegon’s fingers are pressing a place that makes your breath catch in your throat, makes you dizzy with need for him. He looks at you and you nod, and he reads in your face what you wanted to say months ago in this same basement: Don’t stop. Come closer.
Aegon lifts your dress over your head, nips at your throat as he unclasps your bra, and you are suddenly aware of how the cool firelit air is touching every part of you, how you are bare for him in a way you’ve never been before. You catch Aegon’s face in your hand before he can see the scar that runs down the length of your belly and say, your voice quiet and fragile: “Don’t look at me.”
Pain flashes in his eyes, furrows across his brow. “Stop,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead as you cling to him. Then he begins moving lower and you fall back onto the carpet, no blood on Aegon’s hands this time, only your sweat and lust for him, only crystalline evidence of a betrayal you’ve long ago already committed in your mind.
You’re combing your fingers through his hair and gasping as Aegon’s lips ghost down your scar, not something ruinous or shameful but a part of you, the beginning of your story together, the origin of your mythology. Then his mouth is on you—yearning, aching wetness—and you thought you knew what this felt like but it’s more powerful now, more urgent, and Aegon is glancing up to watch your face, to study you, to change what he’s doing as he follows your clues. And then there is a pang you think is too sharp to be pleasure, too close to helplessness, something that leaves you panting and shaking.
You jolt upright. “Wait…”
Aegon props himself up on his elbows. His full lips glisten with you. “What? What’d I do wrong?”
“No, it’s not you, it’s just…it’s like…” You can’t describe it. “It’s too…um…too intense or something. It’s like I couldn’t breathe.”
Aegon stares at you, his eyebrows low. After a long pause he says: “Babe, you’ve come before, right?”
I’ve what? “Yeah, of course, obviously. I mean…I think so?”
He’s stunned. He’s in disbelief. Then a grin splits across his face. “Lie back down.”
You’re nervous, but you trust him. If this costs you your life, you’ll pay it. He pushes your thighs farther apart and his tongue stays in one spot—where you touched yourself in the bathtub in Seattle, where you wanted him when he slipped his fingers into you for the first time—and suddenly the uneasy feeling is something raging and irresistible like a riptide in the Atlantic, something better than anything you knew existed, and you keep thinking it’s happened but it hasn’t yet, as you cover your face with your hands to smother your moans, as your hips roll and Aegon’s arms curl under your thighs to keep you in place so he can make you finish. It’s a release that is otherworldly, celestial, terrifying, divine. It’s something that rips the curtain between mortals and paradise.
It’s always like this for men? That’s what Aemond has been getting from me, that’s what I’ve been denied?
As you lie gasping on the carpet Aegon returns, smiling, kissing you, running his fingers through locks of hair that have escaped from your pins. “Not bad, right little Io?” he purrs, smelling like rum and minerals, earth and poison. Now he’s taking off his jeans, but before he can position himself between your legs you have pushed him onto his back and straddled him, pinning his wrists to the floor, watching the amazement ripple across his flushed face, the desire, the need. You tease Aegon, leaning in to nibble at his ear and bite gingerly at his throat, never harming him, never claiming him, grinding your hips against his and listening as his breathing turns quick and rough. Then you slip him inside you, this man you once hated, this man who was a stranger and then a curse and now a spell.
Aegon wants to be closer to you. He sits up as you ride him, hands on your face, in your hair, kissing you, inhaling you, shuddering, trying not to cry out as footsteps and laughter and thunderous basslines bleed through the ceiling. You know he’s been high on so many things—things that corrupt, things that kill—and you hope you can compare, this brief clean magic.
He can’t last; he finishes with a moan like he’s in agony, and as the motion of your hips slows, you take his jaw in your grasp and gaze down at him. “Good boy,” you say with a grin. Aegon laughs, exhausted, drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. He embraces you so tightly you can feel the pounding of his heart, racing muscle beneath bones and skin.
He’s murmuring through your disheveled hair: “I gotta see you again, when can I see you again?”
You don’t know what to say. You don’t have an answer. You unravel yourself from Aegon and dress yourself in the red candlelight: panties, bra, dress, boots, all things that Aemond chose for you, all things he bought with his family’s money, all things he owns. Aegon has nothing to his name and neither do you. You are—like Fosco once said—pieces of the same machine.
“Where are you going?” Aegon asks, like he’s afraid of the answer.
“I have to go back upstairs to the party before someone realizes I’m missing.”
“Are you serious?”
“I am.” You kneel on the carpet to kiss him one last time, your palm on his cheek, his fingers clutching at your dress as he begs you not to leave. “I have to, I have to,” you whisper, and then you do.
You grab the Ouija board and planchette off the green shag carpet, hug them to your chest, and hurry up the steps. The first floor of the Asteria house is a maze of cigarette smoke and clinking glasses, guests who are dancing and cackling and drunk. From the record player strums Johnny Cash’s Ring Of Fire. You slip unnoticed to the staircase.
In the blue-walled bedroom you share with Aemond, you carefully place the Ouija board and planchette in the top drawer of his nightstand exactly as you found them. Then you go to your vanity to try to fix your hair. As you’re rearranging clips and pinning loose strands back into place, the door opens. Aemond is there, feeling beloved and invincible, looking for you. He crosses the room and closes his long fingers around your wrist. He wants you: under him, making children for him, possessed by him.
“Come to bed,” Aemond says.
“Not right now. I’m busy.”
“You aren’t busy anymore.”
“I told you no.”
He wrenches you from your chair. Instead of surrendering, you strike out, hitting him in the chest. You don’t harm him, you’re not strong enough, but genuine shock leaps into his scarred face.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hiss. You can’t let Aemond undress you; he will find the evidence of your treason, he will see it, feel it, taste it. But that’s not the only reason you stop him. “Every goddamn night I give you what you want, and exactly how you want it. Tonight I’m saying no. You want to take me? You’ll have to do it properly. I’m not going to give you the illusion of consent. You remember what Zeus did to all those women, right? Go ahead. Act like the god you think you are. But I’m going to fight you. And if those people downstairs hear me screaming, you can explain to them why.”
Aemond stares at you in the silvery light of the half-moon. You glare boldly back. At last he leaves and descends the staircase into an underworld of churning smoke, returning to the party to sip his Old Fashioneds and decide what to do with you.
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deadpresidents · 5 months
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Which President, in your opinion, was the most reluctant to seek the position? Which wound up hating it the most by the end of his term?
I am a strong believer that nobody truly becomes President of the United States "reluctantly". That's not exactly the kind of job that seeks you, especially the modern Presidency.
For a significant slice of American history, many of the people nominated for President acted as if they were being called upon to run when, behind-the-scenes, they were very active in building their campaigns and corralling supporters. Until the 20th Century it was frowned upon to openly run for the Presidency, but almost all of the Presidents wanted the gig.
I'd say that George Washington was probably more reluctant than most of his successors and likely would have preferred retiring to Mount Vernon after the Revolution, but I think he also recognized that he was the guy who needed to be the President that set the precedents. I think Ulysses S. Grant would have been perfectly happy to not be President, but once he was elected in 1868 he also wanted to keep the job. He even tried to run for a third term in 1880.
That 1880 election might have been the one case where the winner -- James Garfield -- genuinely wasn't interested in the Presidency at that point. He had gone to the Republican National Convention to support fellow Ohioan John Sherman (and defeat Grant's hopes for a third term) and gained some major attention after giving a well-received speech placing Sherman's name in nomination. When the candidacies of Sherman and James G. Blaine -- another anti-Grant candidate -- stalled, Garfield became a compromise choice and was eventually nominated on the 36th ballot. Garfield was apparently legitimately shocked by the events leading to him leaving Chicago as the GOP nominee.
By most accounts, William Howard Taft was far more interested in a potential seat on the Supreme Court than becoming President. At heart he was a judge and believed himself to be better suited for the judiciary than the Executive Branch. But Taft turned down three offers by Theodore Roosevelt to be appointed to the Supreme Court (in 1902, 1903, and 1906) because he felt obligated to complete his work as Governor-General of the Philippines and then Secretary of War. But Taft's wife desperately wanted him to become President and by the time of President Roosevelt's third offer of a seat on the Court, Taft was already being talked about as Roosevelt's hand-picked successor in the White House. And, as with all other Presidents, once he had a taste for the job, he didn't want to give it up, running for re-election in 1912 against his former friend, Roosevelt.
Gerald Ford is the only other President who hadn't spent a significant portion of his political career with his eyes on the White House. Ford spent nearly a quarter-century in the House of Representatives and his main ambition was to be Speaker of the House, but Republicans weren't able to win control of the House when Ford was in Congressional leadership positions. But even with Ford being a creature of Congress, he did attempt to put himself forward as a nominee for the Vice Presidency, first in 1960 and then in 1968, and Nixon kicked the tires on picking him as his running mate in 1960. No one wants to be Vice President without seeing it as a potential stepping stone to the Presidency, particularly at that point in history before Vice Presidents were empowered with some real influence within the Administrations they served in.
As for who wound up hating it by the end of their time in office, I think it's safe to say that John Quincy Adams didn't shed too many tears when he was defeated for re-election in 1828. And I'm sure he wouldn't use the word "hate", but nobody can convince me that George W. Bush wasn't thoroughly ready to escape Washington by late-2007. There were times in 2008 when he seemed like he just wanted to hold a snap election like they have in parliamentary systems and go home to Texas. If some Presidential insider published a book that said that Bush asked if he could just give the keys to the White House to Barack Obama in July 2008, I wouldn't be the least bit shocked.
On the other hand, if there were no term limits, Bill Clinton would have been running for President in every election since 1992 (and the crazy thing is that he's still younger than both of the presumptive 2024 nominees). I'm kind of surprised that he didn't make an effort to repeal the 22nd Amendment in the past 20 years. Clinton loved being President and was trying to find something Presidential to do until minutes before his successor was inaugurated in 2001.
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hollywoodfamerp · 8 months
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Pack your bags, Famers! Our annual winter trip is taking place in Ireland! On February 17th, all celebrities will be arriving at the Adare Manor to kick off our trip! Named the #1 resort in Europe in 2023, Adare Manor sits on 840 acres of pristine parkland.
"It’s prestige without pretense and magic without nonsense. Above all, it is the sense of belonging. You are known. You are family. You are home."
UNDER THE CUT, YOU’LL FIND THE LIST OF ROOMMATES!
Unless we got a message from you telling us you wanted to be with a specific person or were not in the ships list - you were included in the generator. If you do not see your FCs name on this list, please message us POLITELY and let us know - sometimes a name gets missed getting put into the generator. We’re human and it happens! At the same time, if your FC is on there twice by any chance then please let us know. Again, mistakes happen. As we accept new applications and people come into the group before AND during the event, this list will be updated. Same will go for if people get unfollowed or ask to leave the group. We posted the pairings in advance so that you may reach out to your roommate and get new interactions going! Even if a mun is on hiatus, be sure to reach out to them so that you can see if you can head-canon some interactions or plan for something when they are off hiatus. All trips are to encourage new interactions and unlikely connections!
PLEASE LIKE THIS NOTICE WHEN YOU HAVE READ IT AND SO THAT YOU CAN KEEP TRACK OF THE LIST UPDATES!
Addison Timlin & Sabrina Carpenter
Akanishi Jin & Lee Sunmi
America Ferrera & Ben Feldman
Andrew Garfield & Elizabeth Lail
Angourie Rice & Chris Evans
Anne Hathaway & Jenna Coleman
Ariana DeBose & Mason Mount
Ashton Irwin & Ariana Grande
Awsten Knight & Miley Cyrus
Bae Joohyun (Irene) & Dove Cameron
Barbara Palvin & Maxence Danet-Fauve
Beyonce Knowles & Chloe Bailey
Brie Larson & Brittany Baker
Callum Turner & Chace Crawford
Camila Morrone & Jessica Chastain
Cari Fletcher & Victoria de Angelis
Carrie Underwood & Gigi Hadid
Cate Blanchett & Ellie Bamber
Cha Eunwoo & Glen Powell
Choi Minho & Kim Ahyoung (Yura)
Choi San & Danielle Campbell
Choi Soobin & Rylee Arnold
Cody Christian & Lucy Hale
Colby Lopez (Seth Rollins) & Rebecca Quin (Becky Lynch)
Danny Amendola & Olivia Culpo
Demi Bennett (Rhea Ripley) & Ashley Fliehr (Charlotte Flair)
Dua Lipa & Joseph Quinn
Emma Stone & Chris Daughtry
Ethan Torchio & Damiano David
Florence Pugh & Cillian Murphy
Gareth Southgate & Byun Baekhyun
Harry Kane & Charlie Hunnam
Harry Styles & Mazz Murray
Hayley Williams & Luke Hemmings
Hwang Hyunjin & Bang Chan
Jackson Wang & Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (Ten)
Jamie Campbell Bower & Jonathan Good (Jon Moxley)
Jenna Ortega & Halle Bailey
Joey King & Nick Robinson
Josephine Skriver & Aaron Taylor-Johnson
Jung Yoonoh (Jaehyun) & Lee Taeyong
Kang Seulgi & Jung Wooyoung
Kelsea Ballerini & Joe Keery
Kendall Jenner & Liam Hemsworth
Kim Hongjoong & Diamanté Quiava Valentin Harper (Saweetie)
Kim Jisoo & Christian Yu
Kim Mingyu & Sana Minatozaki
Kit Connor & Gong Jichul (Gong Yoo)
Kylie Jenner & Christina Aguilera
Lauren Jauregui & Bill Skarsgard
Leati Joseph Anoa'i (Roman Reigns) & Rosie Huntington-Whiteley
Lee Felix & Dakota Johnson
Lee Jeno & Na Jaemin
Lee Taemin & Kim Jongin
Leigh-Anne Pinnock & Alycia Debnam-Carey
Lily James & David Tennant
Logan Lerman & Jeon Jungkook
Louis Tomlinson & Phoebe Bridgers
Lucas Wong & Kim Jungwoo
Lupita Nyong'o & Tessa Thompson
Billie Eilish & Ryan Gosling
Madelyn Cline & Chase Stokes
Maika Monroe & Dylan O'Brien
Mark Lee & Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)
Min Yoongi & Kim Namjoon
Niall Horan & Matt Smith
Nicholas Galitzine & Taylor Zakhar Perez
Nick Jonas & Selena Gomez
Nina Dobrev & Sofia Carson
Pamela Martinez (Bayley) & Mercedes Justine Varnado (Sasha Banks)
Park Seonghwa & Lewis Pullman
Pete Davidson & Naomi Scott
Renee Paquette (Renee Young) & Taylor Swift
Renee Rapp & Olivia Cooke
Ross Lynch & Anya Taylor-Joy
Sam Claflin & Riley Keough
Samantha Gibb & Sydney Sweeney
Saoirse Ronan & Jack Lowden
Sarah Paulson & Jessica Lange
Sebastian Stan & Margot Robbie
Tom Hardy & Elizabeth Olsen
Tom Holland & Natalia Dyer
Tony Goldwyn & Megan Jovon Ruth Pete (Megan Thee Stallion)
Travis Kelce & Romee Strijd
Troian Bellisario & Joshua Hong
Vanessa Hudgens & Matthew Macfadyen
Wong Kunhang (Hendery) & Jensen Ackles
Xiao Dejun (Xiaojun) & Yoo Jimin (Karina)
Xu Minghao & Noah Beck
Yoo Bora & Joe Burrow
Yoo Siah (Yooa) & Kim Minjeong (Winter)
Zac Efron & Sophie Turner
Zendaya Coleman & Paul Mescal
Zoey Deutch & Dacre Montgomery
Zoë Kravitz & Lili Reinhart
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allwaswell16 · 10 months
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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in November 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!
Fanfictional Podcast #56 |  ko-fi | fic recs
- Louis/Harry -
🍂 Train Tracks and Porcelain by @jaerie
(E, 41k, historical circus au) Shadows were forming into people and things and, there in the middle of it, Louis watched the humongous head of an elephant emerge from a box car right in front of his eyes. Or a Water For Elephants inspired AU
🍂 Big, Bright World by RealName
(M, 35k, office au) Every day, Louis' feelings became more intense, more immediate, each little smile and gesture and silly flirtation mounting up into something palpable, with a life of its own. The only problem? Harry was engaged to someone else and had been from the moment Louis started working at Visionary.
🍂 two feet standing on a principle by Anonymous
(E, 10k, exes) Harry is a famous fashion model and Louis works at the mall, nobody knows they broke up two weeks ago.
🍂 you make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong by orphan_account
(T, 6k, mpreg Harry) Harry is pregnant and stops at the mall to buy cheap baby clothes. Louis has extra money from working a long shift, and he can't think of a better way to spend it than on him.
🍂 make my wish come true by deblond / @braveryandtea
(T, 4k, Christmas) Louis works as Santa’s elf at the mall. He meets Harry.
- Rare Pairs -
🍂 take me back, take me back by eynap / @panye
(E, 32k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) Niall invites his new friend Shawn to Zayn and Liam's three-day wedding in Napa Valley, California. He gets way more than he expected.
🍂 must be love by @nouies
(NR, 6k, Louis/Andrew Garfield) AU where Louis doesn’t know how to approach his neighbour, and Andrew keeps receiving homegrown vegetables at his door.
🍂 lonely in [paris] by f_ckromeoandjuliet / @louiesonlyangel
(T, 5k, Louis/Awsten Knight) Alternate version of Louis's tour where he's in a secret relationship with Awsten Knight from Waterparks. Based on Awsten tweeting at Louis.
🍂 Feeling Feline by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13
(T, 4k, Louis/Niall) “Not medically wrong,” the blond one says. “But I swear, and I know this sounds nuts, but I don’t think he’s a cat?”
🍂 it's the summer of our love by localopa / @voulezloux
(G, 3k, Louis/Ryan Ross) ryan is in love with his best friend and gym bro, louis. the problem? ryan is straight.
🍂 Got My Chaos Automatic by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28
(E, 3k, Zayn/Louis/Liam) the one where Louis comes home from tour feeling exhausted, yet antsy. Luckily, Liam and Zayn are there to put him back together
🍂 Crush by @allwaswell16
(T, 1k, Louis/Niall) When Niall stops smiling around the office, his co-worker Louis sets out to lift his mood with the help of their office mates.
- Trick Or Treat Fest -
1D Trick Or Treat Fest / @1dtrickortreatfest (each 666 words)
she bit someone by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus
Sounds horrifying..... tell me more by @lunaticcat009
In The Dark by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13
Ghosted by @haztobegood
Summon A Demon by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa
Slow Dance with the Tension by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28
I See You by @neondiamond
Lipstick stain fades with time by @lunarheslwt
Watch How Good I'll Fake It by mmaree / @zqua1d
Irresistible by mmaree / @zqua1d
find a way (to send me a sign) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
when love gets involved by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
Harryween (series) by @babyhoneyheslt
Fruit Bat by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
Odds Are That We Will Probably Be... by @lululawrence
A Witch's Longest Day of the Year by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou
pasta-tively sweet by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow
perfect pumpkins by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow
Fa-boo-lous Halloween by bluegreenish / @greenblueish
Still by downcamethelightning / @downcamethelightnings
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Note
James Potter: forget andrew garfield he can't give you what you want
Lily Evans: Which is what, exactly?
James Potter: orders
"would have given the one part of herself that wants to relinquish control to the one part of him that wants to do the controlling"
The above is simply ~chefs kiss~ soooooo good. This build up is everything I've ever wanted and more, you can feel the mounting tension and their giddiness jumping off the page with every conversation. On James' preferences, has this always been his thing in bed or has this surfaced with his feelings for Lily/knowing her preferences?
(Ps. I feel like I'm invading his privacy by asking this)
It's always been his thing, he's old enough and experienced enough to have figured out what he's into. It doesn't mean that he's felt as comfortable talking so openly about it with some exes as he is with Lily, though. Some people you just gel with more than others.
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My Largest Mount
I realized I've never actually posted any pictures of him which is just criminal. The largest mount in my collection is my very handsome bobcat. This fella just has some beautiful markings, very defined spots. His face was mounted up pretty nicely as well, seen a lot of bobcats out there with some Garfield like cheeks.
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 2 years
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mason mount - guessing game
mason mount instagram au (x fem!reader - actress that was in hotd and avatar the way of water)
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liked by harrycollettactor, irisapatow and 165 others
ynofficial: i started reading gerald's game by stephen king and had to stop after the first chapter and then vowed to myself that if i'm going to carry on reading it, it has to be sunny outside and i also have to read emma alongside it because i'm a wimp that can't handle that level of intense and disturbing content all in one go. my auntie will be incredibly disappointed in me but it's cheaper than the therapy i'd need if i continued reading it so i say it's a win-win
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jamieflatters: tom holland? andrew garfield?
ynofficial: pt 185432 of jamie getting it wrong
harrycolettactor: wuss
harrycollettactor: you're giving us nothing and i'm starting to think you're winding us up now
ynofficial: i mean yeah i am
baileybass: YOURE SUCH CUTIES AHHHHH
jackchampion: bailey knows?????
ynofficial: well so does trinity and zoe and sam
jackchampion: pls tell me i'm begging you
ememyers: gerald's game creeped the fuck out of me i don't blame you one bit
ynofficial: em i love you for this
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liked by archierenaux3 and 27,976 others
harrycollettactor: y/n somehow scored some pretty damn good seats?????
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theemilycarey: this isn't related to the football but i know who her boyfriend is
harrycollettactor: traitor. is it someone i know?
ynofficial: yes, you are very welcome for the tickets, harry, how very gracious of you (and yes but you've never met)
jamieflatters: i have a theory you know
fan1: it's almost like they never went to a football game
fan2: this is my multiverse of madness fr
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liked by livkatecook, baileybass and 453 others
ynofficial: NO WAY WAS JAMIE'S THEORY RIGHT
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jamieflatters: i'm a genius, what can i say?
baileybass: far cry from it
harrycollettactor: there are no clues anywhere how am i supposed to figure this shit out
ynofficial: pull a holmes
lizzymalpine: i love your soft launch so freaking much
ynofficial: i learnt from the best
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liked by cmpulisic, harrycollettctor and 1,375,816 others
masonmount: boyfriend duties
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harrycollettactor: um
liked by masonmount, ynofficial, jamieflatters and 7 others
fan3: MASON HAS A GF?????
fan4: come home the kids miss you
fan5: wait a minute...NO WAY WHAT??????
benchilwell: peter parker is looking cute today
liked by ynofficial
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liked by masonmount and 1,386 others
ynofficial: successfully made it past the soft launch phase, welcome to my 'in love with this sexy sexy man and idc who knows it' era
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fan6: WHAT THE FUCK
harrycollettactor: i'm crying right now that's MY football boyfriend how did i not recognise his abs????
ynofficial: no and i was actually wondering that actually
harrycollettator: yes, i saw him first
ynofficial: no
jackchampion: any friend of cmpulisic is a friend of mine
ynofficial: you need to get your priorities sorted
baileybass: i'm so happy for you two!!! you look so pretty together
ynofficial: don't make me cry
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liked by ynofficial, ameliadimz and 1,937,826 others
masonmount: been locked in love for a year
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fan7: A YEAR???
fan8: damn they were careful about this
declanrice: happy for you two!
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theradicalscrivener · 9 months
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The Life and Tinies of Trevor: OnlyGlans
I started this fic aaaagggesss ago. Like, you can carbon date the first draft by the fact that it references the Jack-O challenge. I'd been wanting to revisit Trevor and friends for ages, and I was in a hardcore micro mood this past month, so I dusted this off and finished it.
(P.S. Ya boi's got Linktree and Bluesky now)
[First Chapter] || [Next Chapter]
                Simon glanced up from his homework and over at the far side of the desk where Trevor was positioned in front of Simon’s cell phone – which at Trevor’s two-inch height was far larger than Trevor himself. The cell phone was mounted on a stand which kept it more or less upright so that Trevor could watch it like a movie screen, but Trevor seemed more interested in participating in what was going on on the screen as opposed to just watching.
                “… what in the wide, wide world of sports are you doing?” Simon asked.
               Trevor hopped up from his position and shouted up towards his colossal boyfriend so that Simon could hear, “It’s the hottest new meme,” he explained. “People all over are mimicking this fighting game pose.” He then leaned back down so his booty was in the air and his chest was down on the ground.
               “Looks uncomfortable. If I was gonna mimic a pose, I’d probably stick to something like The Garfield Power Coma pose or something,” Simon commented.
               Trevor once again hopped up and faced his giant boyfriend. “How boring! You won’t get any likes like that!”
               “Oh? That’s your game? Gonna be internet famous? Might need to put some pants on before you go posting to TikTok, though.” Simon teased and gave Trevor’s exposed midriff a playful poke with the eraser end of his pencil.
               It was supposed to be a soft jab, but with their current size disparity, it was enough to send Trevor tumbling onto his ass. After all, the pencil was bigger around than Trevor’s whole head! Getting poked with one of those was like getting bodied with a pugil stick.
               However, the sudden tumble barely slowed Trevor down. He quickly hopped back up on his feet. “I… uh… guess I got a little too used to not wearing anything around the house. I didn’t even consider the clothes thing…” Trevor said with a bashful chuckle.
               “Well, I for one am not complaining,” Simon said with a sly wink.
               “Yeah. You would enjoy it,” Trevor replied back and returned the wink.
               “TikTok might not allow you to leave the goods out, but I’m sure some other sites would be more than happy to show all of you.”
               “Ha! Yeah. I can get me an OnlyFans and become the world’s tiniest porn star!” Trevor laughed.
               “Then you can finally start paying rent,” Simon teased.
               “Sure! I’ll only pay for the portion of the apartment that I actually use though,” Trevor replied. He then paused for a beat and asked, “Do you think you can break a penny?”
               “A whole penny? You must really be expecting to rake in the big bucks,” Simon teased playfully.
“What? You don’t think I know how to work it? Get that camera rolling, and I’ll show you what I can do!”
               Simon smirked and cocked an eyebrow skeptically. After a moment he shrugged and then tapped the screen of his cell phone a few times and adjusted the angle so now the screen showcased the tiny Trevor standing atop Simon’s desk.
               “Well? Go on. Don’t keep your fans waiting,” Simon said.
                 “The site is called Only Fans for a reason! I’m nothing without my audience! So, you tell me what you want to see!” Trevor called up to his towering boyfriend.
               “Well, I already see a lot that I like. Why not show that to the audience?” Simon replied with a smirk.
               Trevor glanced up towards his boyfriend’s huge smirk which loomed far above him. His gaze stayed a moment at his boyfriend’s cute face and then slowly worked a path down the seeming miles of Simon’s shirt.
               “You know… if I’m going to make a name for myself as the world’s tiniest porn star, I should have a partner for comparison!” Trevor said.
               “Oh? Did you have someone in mind?” Simon replied playfully. He played dumb, but even without being asked, he began to undo the buttons on his shirt letting his toned chest and abs come into view.
“Take! It! Off! Take! It! Off!” Trevor cheered as Simon continued his striptease. Once his shirt was fully unbuttoned, he then shimmied his tight jeans down along his slender thighs before stepping out of those. Soon he was clad in nothing but his full open-fronted flannel shirt and a pair of bulging boxer briefs.
Simon started to reach down and slip his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, but Trevor quickly shouted for him to stop.
               “Wait! Wait! I have an idea!” Trevor shouted.
Simon cocked an eyebrow questioningly but waited as Trevor scampered across the desk towards the large keyboard that Simon usually worked from. Trevor crawled up onto the wrist rest before leaping across the gap to the keyboard proper. Once there, Trevor knelt down and slammed his palms down on the track pad as if he was putting his prints on the Hollywood walk of fame.
               Simon admired the view as Trevor took up a pose very similar to the meme pose he was trying earlier. Trevor had his legs spread wide so that he had a foot planted on one of the two mouse keys. Trevor had his two hands placed together almost as if he was trying to guide a Ouija puck. Trevor had to lean all the way forward so that he had most of his body weight balanced on his two hands in order for the track pad to even register his weight enough for him to move the cursor. The pose put all of his goods on display. His ass was raised high and held in such a way as to give Simon a clear view of Trevor’s tight, tiny hole, and his balls and dick swung beneath. Simon couldn’t help but ogle Trevor’s fit, firm backside as the tiny guy worked away at the computer. Each time Trevor needed to shift the cursor, he had to put his full body weight behind the push which caused his tiny cock and balls to swing heavily between his miniature quads.
               Simon was quickly getting beyond chubbed up as he watched his tiny boyfriend flex and wobble with each shove of the trackpad. Simon wished it was physically possible for him to plow that firm ass, but even before Trevor had been reduced in height to the size of a Lego figure, Simon’s impressive rod had been too much for his boyfriend to take. That wasn’t to say that Simon was dealing with blue balls, however. Despite his tiny size, Trevor had a seemingly boundless wellspring of energy and an even bigger imagination. In fact, the only reason the two of them weren’t going at it like rabbits every day was because Simon often needed to rest between rounds, and there were also those pesky classes and homework and a job that kept Simon otherwise occupied.
               Simon was so fixated on his fit, tiny boyfriend that he wasn’t even watching what was going on on the monitor. Trevor had already logged into the app that controlled the webcam and was adjusting the angle of the video.
               Calling it a webcam was probably a bit of a misnomer. It was a higher quality camera than one usually used for face timing, and it was able to be remote controlled. This camera and the touch pad mouse were two of the items that Simon had installed to give Trevor a way to keep in touch with him if he was out of the apartment for any reason. The camera was able to zoom in on the less than two-inch tall dude so that Simon could clearly see his pint-sized paramour at any time of day. Today, however, the camera was fixated on Simon’s package.
               “Chin up! Trousers down!” Trevor said into the microphone that was attached to his little control center.
               Simon blushed beet red. He had been mostly joking about having Trevor film the two of them together. Trevor was the outgoing one. Simon was often just along for the ride. However, he couldn’t deny that he was excited by the prospects. Simon wasn’t naïve. He knew his cock was huge, and his dick was just going to look even more massive when placed alongside a dude who was crotch high to a G.I. Joe!
               Simon once more slipped his fingers into the waistband of his tight boxer briefs and shoved the soft garment down along his hips until his huge, fat cock spilled out onto the desk before him. His impressive meat landed on the cool, wooden surface with an audible whump. The tremor from the impact was such that even Trevor, who was a good foot away from the point of impact, had to struggle to maintain his precarious pose.
               Simon watched in awe as the camera zoomed in to focus on just the head of his huge cock. The soft, supple flesh of his spongy cockhead filled up almost every inch of his extra wide monitor. His pre-dribbling slit made it look like his desktop background had been swapped out with an off-brand rendition of the eye of Sauron.
               It was strange staring at an image of his own cock like this. The glans appeared larger than his whole head! The slit appeared bigger than his own mouth! Was this what it looked like to Trevor? On some level, Simon started to feel a little jealous that this is what Trevor got to experience on a daily basis! But even as these thoughts flooded his mind, he knew that he was lowballing just how huge his dick looked to his tiny boyfriend.
               Once satisfied with the camera position, Trevor stood back up and stretched the kinks out of his back and shoulder before hopping off of the mouse pad and scurrying across the desk over to where Simon’s massive meat awaited him. Trevor was already rock hard before he even left his workstation which gave Simon an amusing and erotic view of Trevor’s tiny rod swinging and dripping from side to side as the little guy jogged across the desktop.
               Soon, Trevor was staring down the beast. Trevor was so small and Simon was so hung that the massive, spongy head of his semi-boned cock completely dwarfed Trevor’s body. Just the glans of Simon’s fantastic cock was the size of an igloo! As Trevor stood there staring down Simon’s massive, fleshy, one-eyed monster. Trevor felt like Chrono standing face to face with the planet-devouring parasite. However, unlike Chrono, Trevor was more than happy to let this beast erupt all over him.
               Trevor leaned up against the tip of his boyfriend’s colossal cock. No matter how many times he did this, the sheer size of it always took his breath away, and the surreal sensation of the massive, soft, spongy tissue against his tiny hands made it feel like he was petting some kind of massive beast. Trevor had never pet an elephant before, but he imagined it would probably be a very similar experience… at least if he was doing it at his old size, anyway.
               Trevor glanced over his shoulder and marveled at the image on the screen behind him. It was strange seeing himself as a giant! Everywhere he went, he was surrounded by people that completely dwarfed his tiny form. Some part of Trevor’s mind pondered for a split second what it would be like to be the big guy in a relationship, but he’d never want to trade places with Simon. Trevor loved having a skyscraper-sized boyfriend, and he knew that Simon absolutely adored having a pocket-sized lover as well.
               Internal thoughts aside, Trevor was pleased at what he saw on the screen. He and his boyfriend’s cock were framed perfectly in the shot. Trevor flashed a sly wink to the giant figure of himself on the screen (and by extension to the fans watching at home) and turned to face the beast. Now that he was in position, he wasted no time. He pressed his body against the tip of Simon’s fully-engorged cock head. By this point, Simon was rock-hard. His dick-tip was as puffed up as it could get. Pre flowed freely from the huge slit.
               Trevor began to rub his whole body against his boyfriend’s massive cockhead. He rolled his entire body like a Gogo boy doing body rolls in a cage above a dance floor. With each thrust of his hips, his own cock rubbed against the drooling lips of Simon’s massive slit.
               Simon shuddered and moaned. He struggled against himself to keep himself from cumming so quickly. Sure, he had been busy with class lately, but he hadn’t thought he was so backed up! He was ready to cream, and they had barely even started! He could feel Trevor’s tiny dick rubbing against his oversensitive slit! He could feel Trevor’s tiny hips rubbing against his over-engorged cockhead! Simon was so close to cumming just from the sensations on his cockhead, and it didn’t help that he could see the entire spectacle of his tiny boyfriend grinding against and licking and suckling his own cockhead in HD on his large computer screen. 
               Simon’s cock head gave a flare. His dick lurched violently. The motion nearly sent Trevor toppling flat onto his ass, but Trevor was not about to be shoved aside even if Simon’s meat was so massive that even the head of the fat cock could easily eclipse Trevor’s entire body. He was determined to stand his ground. He didn’t want to let go of his boyfriend’s cock for even a moment, and he definitely didn’t want to disappoint the fans at home. Not to mention, that being able to make the titan which loomed over him tremble with just the movement of his hips, drove Trevor wild!
               Trevor glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that his audience still had a clear shot of what was going on. He flashed another playful wink, and then returned his attention to his titanic boyfriend’s shuddering cockhead. Trevor got down on his knees so he was now staring down the dribbling slit. The scent of cock sweat and pre filled his nostrils. The sheer heat emanating from his boyfriend’s meat was astounding. It was like just the head of his lover’s cock was overwhelming all of his senses! But Trevor was not so easily cowed. He leaned in and rubbed his face against the pre-drooling gash of Simon’s monolithic cock. Simon’s slit was so huge that Trevor could get his entire face into it as if it was one of those face pillows on a massage bench, but the sides of this pillow were far warmer, softer, and wetter than any spa pillow he could have used.
               Simon slammed his hands down on the desk to stabilize himself. He was now shaking like a leaf. His breath was coming in ragged gasps. Simon’s cock was so sensitive that he could feel Trevor’s tongue against the inside of his dick tip. He could feel Trevor’s nose brushing against the walls of his dick. Trevor really knew how to get to him. Trevor was far smaller than even just Simon’s cock, and yet Trevor could easily make the titan collapse with bliss, and the sensations were only amplified by the video displayed on Simon’s monitor.
               Simon could see Trevor kneeling down before the camera. The video gave a clear glimpse of Trevor’s tight, tiny hole. Simon was leaking so much that his pre was completely coating Trevor’s tiny body. Trevor’s body glistened in the light of the desk lamp. Simon watched as Trevor moved a hand away from Simon’s sensitive cockhead and reached back towards Trevor’s own firm butt. Simon was so horny that his throat felt so tight that he could barely swallow. All he could do was struggle to remain upright while he felt his tiny boyfriend grinding against his cock and watched the incredibly sexy show on his screen. He was struggling to keep his cool and his load, but he nearly lost both when he saw Trevor reach back and slip two pre-soaked fingers into his own tight hole.
               Trevor was using Simon’s own pre to finger fuck himself! Trevor was so tiny that Simon had long since given up getting any part of himself in that dude’s cute hole! Trevor was so small that Simon couldn’t even slip his pinky inside! Yet watching Trevor finger himself with Simon’s juices sent Simon spiraling into a new stratosphere of hot and bothered.
               Simon’s cock trembled and lurched so hard that the force of it sent Trevor tumbling backwards. ! In actuality, Trevor had only slid a few centimeters, but at Trevor’s small size it was as if he had slid a few feet! The pre-soaked shrunken stud slid across the desktop as if he was in an ice rink.
Trevor knew it was time for his hard work to pay off. The sound of the giant’s moans was like music to his ears. Each labored breath that escaped the titan’s lips made Trevor hornier and hornier. Trevor was ready to cum right then and there, but he was determined to hold off until Simon had found release.
               Simon was so horny that he didn’t even have time to wrap his hands around his fat cock before he started spewing. The first rope of jizz arced into the air, completely missing his tiny lover.
               Simon struggled against his own arousal and orgasmic bliss and forced enough of his body to listen to him. Simon was so addled from his own climax that he wasn’t entirely sure why he was struggling so hard. Did he want to put on a good show for the camera? Did he just want to completely coat Trevor in his cum?  Whatever the case, on some level, he knew that he needed to get his dick back in the shot.
               Simon reached both hands around his fat cock and angled the cum-spewing tip down towards the desktop. Simon was so hot and bothered that he could barely keep his eyes open let alone focus them, but between gasps and spurts, he watched in awe as the image of his own cock was magnified several times on his computer screen. Jizz erupted from the slit like a geyser. The burst of cum crashed into the tiny figure that stood unsteadily before it. The torrent of jizz was so powerful that it sent Trevor flying backwards as it collided directly with his chest.
               Trevor had been blasted clean out of the view of the camera. Now the computer screen only showed Simon’s spewing cock head. That image was incredibly hot even by itself, but even as his senses were overwhelmed by his own climax, Simon refused to take center stage on what was supposed to be Trevor’s special production. Fortunately, a blinking red light caught his attention.
               Simon had never stopped recording on his cell phone! The device was positioned camera-side down, so all it had picked up so far was noise, but it was still running!
               Simon quickly reached over. He scooped up his phone in one hand and his pint-sized lover in the other. He held Trevor up to the tip of his massive cock and held the phone unsteadily above and recorded the last few spurts of cum. He watched in hormone addled awe as the screen of his cell phone lit up with the image of Trevor’s shrunken form getting buffeted by shot after massive, messy shot of hot spunk! Simon’s load had been one for the record books even by his standards! His load completely flooded his entire palm! The thick spurts had left Trevor so soaked in spunk that he looked like a victim of the Staypuft marshmallow man!
               “y-you ok…?” Simon gasped breathlessly into the phone as he zoomed in closer and closer on the shrunken figure which now lay buried in spunk in the palm of his hand. His question was answered by a pair of two emphatic thumbs up emerging from beneath the muck.
[First Chapter] || [Next Chapter]
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mndvx · 2 years
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–As far as we know, this temple could be on the top of Mount Everest. –And even if we do find it, how do we get him out of there? TITANS – Brother Blood (S04E06) ››› Ryan Potter as Garfield Logan / Beast Boy
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junjiie · 11 months
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해찬  ##  🗯️ ⠀ &THEAFTERPARTY..
twelve chocolate chips. ⠀ wc 2.7k. ⠀ warnings none.
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the weight of soobin slumped over your back in all of his 6’1” (questionable) glory wasn’t as unwelcome, tonight, as you always usually complained it was.
normally you would’ve put up with it for a while before bringing out the half-hearted threats—like telling him you were going to shave his head in the middle of the night, or telling doyoung he was up to both closing, opening, and deep cleaning the coffee machine—but for now you just let him be. though you’d rather die than admit it, the added heat surrounding you was something of a comfort; and that night you felt you needed all the comfort you could get.
coffee with renjun. in—you stole a glance towards the garfield clock mounted on the wall, its striped tail swinging from side to side—about ten minutes. you weren’t scared (alright, maybe you were a little. you’d seen the damage renjun could do, both with his words and his surprisingly pointy elbows), you were more.. curious. what he wanted to talk to you about was completely beyond you, but it wasn’t like you were going to refuse him. you let your thoughts wander to what he could possibly want to tell you, huffing a small laugh to yourself as your suggestions got more and more ridiculous.
your train of thought had stilled the movement of your hands, which had previously been occupied with bringing chocolate chips from the bag you’d commandeered from stock (hardly anyone ordered hot chocolates these days anyway, you’d reasoned, so it wasn’t like they’d be missed) up for soobin to eat over your shoulder, keeping a few for yourself while doing so. the taller boy had since noticed the distinct lack of sweet treats being hand-fed to him, and expressed his discontent by tightening his arms around your waist, squeezing you tighter. you yelped and whacked him on the shoulder in retaliation.
“you’ve got hands, haven’t you? why can’t you feed yourself?”
soobin pulled a face in reply, shaking his head in refusal. “you’re closer.”
bullshit. his hands were just as close as yours to the open packet in front of you, but you rolled your eyes and let him be anyway, resuming the hand-feeding. you stole a second glance over towards the clock, too. eight minutes. soobin followed your gaze and snickered.
“are you that nervous? it’s just renjun. you’ve seen him most days since, like, forever, now. he’s just as sick of you as jeno.”
an offended scoff left your lips as you shrugged the taller male off of you, spinning on your heel to pinch him on the hip and delighting in the girlish squeal it caused.
“jeno is not sick of me! he’s sick of you, i’m the favourite. and i’m not nervous, it’s just—i have no idea what he wants. and it’s so.. out of the blue, you know?”
your friend shrugged, looking far more unbothered than you felt as he reached around you to steal the bag of chocolate chips for himself. “maybe he just wants to catch up. chill, ynnie, it’s not an evil scheme.”
you scrunched your nose up in thought, considering the option. “i mean, maybe, but why now? he’s had a whole year to ask. i know it was awkward, but—“
you cut yourself off, eyes flicking to where donghyuck was fussing with one of the framed pictures on the walls while half-heartedly nodding along to gyuvin’s complaints about an essay of some description, hands waving around to punctuate his words and laptop open in front of him.
soobin looked over too, and made another face—this one more childishly disgusted than the last. you bit back a laugh and hit him again instead, using his over dramatic reaction to the pain as a chance to steal back the bag from his loosened grip.
“don’t start. i don’t know how long i’ll be over there, but i don’t want to come back to see you and him fistfighting.”
junhyeon and shota weren’t working that night, so when you left to meet renjun it would just be soobin, donghyuck, and gyuvin alone. and the latter would be no help at all if the two former started kicking off—in fact, he’d probably be standing with his phone out on record, yelling “fight!” with a shit-eating grin on his face. which would be less than ideal.
soobin held up his hands in surrender before making a sudden lunge for the bag, which you only managed to evade at the last second. “i’ll be good, promise. try to grab a window table to watch us if you’re that worried we might battle to the death. and give me another chocolate chip.”
he held out his palms and stared straight-on at your glare for a moment or two before wilting, shoulders slumping. “..please.”
you obliged, tipping a few into his waiting hands before turning to look at the clock again and almost cursing out loud when you saw it. when had a whole six minutes gone by? 10:58 stared back at you mockingly, and you dropped the bag of chocolate chips onto the counter and fumbled with the strings of your apron, letting out a real swear when they only seemed to tighten.
soobin’s hands came to help, and soon you were freed—for which you shot him a thankful smile, although you did pick the bag back up and tip the remaining chips straight into your mouth just to watch his drop open in betrayal. you left the empty packet carefully flattened on the wooden countertop for him, and offered a casual wave over your shoulder as you turned to leave.
“hey, guys, i’m clocking out for a bit.” this was addressed to gyuvin and hyuck, who had looked up in question when they heard the bell above the door chime to announce your departure. you pointed with a finger to the café just across the street as an indication as to where you would be. “i won’t be all night, i think.”
the youngest just shrugged and turned back to his laptop screen, but haechan’s eyes felt like they were burning through you. you held the eye contact for a second, another, before snapping yourself out of it and offering him a small smile; pushing the door open fully and stepping outside before you could see if he returned it.
a shiver wracked through you as you walked out into the cold night air, the chill getting through to you even through the fabric of your hoodie. it was lucky the walk barely lasted a minute, and before long you were gently pushing open the café door, greeted by low lighting, a few regulars at their tables, and mark sat behind the counter scrolling through something on his phone.
he jerked upright when he heard the sound of someone entering, and his eyes lit up alongside an easy grin spreading over his lips when he saw you.
“yn! hey, man, what’s up? why are you here?”
his features morphed into ones of momentary panic at his last sentence, realising how differently it could’ve came off.
“not that i don’t want you here! but jeno clocked out ages ago, so..” he still looked worried you might’ve been offended, and you waved off his nervousness with a laugh.
“it’s fine, mark, i know what you meant. i’m here for renjun, actually, is he around?”
mark looked surprised at the question but didn’t probe any further into it, simply nodding and poking his head around the back to call for him.
“renjun! yn’s here for you!”
there was a pause after he’d called for him, then a crash, and then a loud curse. mark and you shared a look while the crashing continued for a few more long moments.
“so, um. do you want a drink?”
⠀💬
about five minutes later, you were sat opposite one huang renjun with a steaming hot drink cupped in your palms and a near-perfect vantage point of the coffee shop across the street. he had flour on his cheek, dirty apron still on, and you sort of wanted to reach over and wipe it off, but stopped yourself in place of listening to what he had to say.
his first course of action was to offer you a smile, which you returned easily. you took your first sip of your (still scalding hot) tea and tried not to wince as how dramatically you’d misjudged the amount it had cooled down while renjun started talking.
“thanks for coming! and sorry, too. i know it might’ve been kinda weird, just asking out of nowhere.”
you carefully set your mug down and quickly dismissed his apology, despite the fact that—well, yeah, the sudden request was a little strange.
“don’t apologise, junnie.” when he didn’t object to the nickname you gave yourself a second to cheer inwardly before carrying on. “i was just wondering why you wanted to see me, i guess?”
renjun’s smile turned a little sheepish, and he fiddled with his hands resting in his lap. “ah.. i just wanted to catch up. i missed you, you know?”
well. you supposed you owed soobin something, even if you didn’t make an official bet. but still—nearly a whole year of slightly too-awkward silences and half-hearted small talk, and he wanted to catch up now? your confusion must’ve shown on your face, for renjun rushed to continue.
“i should’ve done it ages ago, i know. you were pissed when hyuck left—understandably—so i wanted to talk to you about it, but at the same time, like, i wasn’t even supposed to know about you two. so i left it, and then left it some more, and then it’d already been a few months and things got awkward so i just figured i’d leave it alone. but now hyuck’s back, and you’ve made up.. i just thought now would be a good time.”
he sat back after his long explanation and the two of you sat in the quiet for a minute or two, while you processed and he watched on for your response. you drained half of your tea despite how hot it still was and shifted in your seat, eyes still stuck on the specks of flour littering his face.
“that—that makes sense, actually. i think. so. yeah, junnie.” you let a smile slowly spread over your lips, only growing wider when you saw renjun mirror it with one just as bright. “let’s catch up.”
any prior nerves you’d had about the night felt as if they melted away effortlessly as the two of you talked for what felt like hours, both making your way through a various assortment of beverages while you did so; taking turns choosing things for the other to order and keeping mark on his toes walking back and forth to your table with them in hand. you felt like you laughed harder than you had in a while, a little startled by how natural it felt to just settle straight back into being friends again, like you’d never stopped in the first place.
a small lull fell in your conversation, and yet this time the silence was anything but awkward. you couldn’t help but smile again, feeling too happy to stop, and renjun shot you a confused look.
“what?”
you shook your head, reaching for what was now a colourful smoothie instead of a steaming mug of tea in an attempt to stifle the grin before you answered.
“nothing, just.. i really missed you.”
it’d only been out of your mouth for a second before you were pulling a face and waving a hand in the air, as if that would erase the words from his mind. “nevermind, that sounds sappy. ignore me.”
instead of laughing along with you like you half-expected him to, renjun’s smile softened a touch.
“sappy? i said the same thing, idiot. i missed you too.”
before you could do something stupid, like burst into tears all over your smoothie or try to clamber over the table to wrap him in a hug, he decided to tack on something to the end of his sentence that, for a lack of any better explanation, completely killed the mood.
“and, uh, hyuck does too.”
your face was probably a carbon-copy of the one soobin had made earlier. why would he bring up donghyuck now, of all times? when you were finally getting over the awkwardness and bonding again? renjun, for the second time that night, hurried to explain himself.
“yah, don’t give me that look. i want all of us to hang out as a group again, and i don’t want you two walking on eggshells around each other while doing it. he feels bad enough for what he did as it is.”
“right,” you said, sceptical. “and how much is he paying you to say this?”
renjun didn't miss a beat. “almost as much as you owe me for stealing my necklace.”
and just like that, the mood was back. you snickered and feigned throwing your drink at him, and soon the both of you were collapsing into helpless laughter. it took a few minutes before you were able to recover enough to try and defend yourself.
“it was an accident! i don’t even know how it ended up with me!”
the boy opposite only scoffed, clearly not believing you for a second. his phone chimed with a notification, and when the screen lit up his eyes widened at the sight of the time.
“shit, i’ve kept you for longer than i thought. aren’t you supposed to be working tonight?”
you fished your own phone out of your pocket to check, and the numbers 00:43 came as a bit of a surprise to you too. a chance look over to the coffee shop on the other side of the street told you that it looked a little more lively than it had been over an hour and a half ago—and while the three there could’ve probably managed without you, it would’ve been of more help if you were there with them. when you relayed this message to renjun he nodded in understanding, rising from his chair and brushing himself off. you followed suit, bringing your smoothie with you and swirling the remaining liquid around in the tall plastic cup with the neon yellow straw stuck through the lid of it.
“it was nice talking to you though, yn. let's do this again sometime, yeah? like we used to.”
you nodded your assent, and renjun began to turn away to disappear off to the back, presumably to continue whatever he was doing in the kitchen before you arrived. before he could, though, you stopped him. he tilted his head a tad to the side in curiosity, but whatever he might’ve said died in his throat when you tugged the sleeve of your hoodie up over your hand and finally rubbed off the flour that had been bothering you all evening. once it was gone, you brushed the excess off and stepped back, aiming a smile at him.
“sorry, that was annoying me for ages. see you, junnie.”
renjun reciprocated your farewell wave and left with one last grin, and before you pushed open the door you’d entered through to leave a sudden thought struck you. mark startled, phone clattering from his grip down onto the countertop, when you slammed both hands atop it with maybe a little more force than necessary.
“mark! we should hang out soon, too. i missed you, man.”
his on-the-verge-of-a-heart-attack expression melted into a more touched-looking one after your exclamation, a hand coming up to his heart as he shot a megawatt smile straight at you.
“aw, dude! i missed you, like, way more!”
the two of you shared an excited fist bump and with that final exchange, you spun on your heel to make your departure with a spring in your step. the chill in the air didn’t feel like it affected you that much at all now, not with the warm feeling the night’s (and early morning’s) events had left you with.
things were looking up, it seemed. albeit a little slowly, but still—looking up all the same. maybe soon it would be all of you, hanging out again. like a year had never passed. like we used to.
you pressed a smile into your hoodie sleeve and hoped no onlookers saw the celebratory skip you performed as you walked over the road.
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(・o・;) 💣 ⠀ previous mlist next
JJ ₊ ⠀ posting this then going STRAIGHT back to gossip girl.. i will not stand for what they’re doing to my girl blair!!!
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taglist ## @wave2love @so2uv @mins-fins @kimgyuuu @wtfhyuck (perm) &&& @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @kosmicbomb @222brainrot @haohyo @dinonuguaegi
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poppibranchlover · 5 months
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What's up, everybody? I apologize for the long delay because I've been so busy for a few months and haven't posted anything ever since, but here I am in my brand new comfortable house where I have so much privacy for myself to work peacefully now! I might share about my new place tomorrow because I haven't got much time left for today. In the meantime, I would like to announce a new Trolls Band Together-related fanfiction I'm planning to make because I knew that idea would be amusing for you to see.
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Here it is! What do you think of the cover? 😁
The story's synopsis: After a successful rescue mission at Mount Rageous, Branch and his four brothers – John Dory, Bruce, Clay and Floyd – are ready to hit the spotlight in their new era of music and happiness as the harmonious boy band collectively known as BroZone. As they prepare for their next big concert, an unexpected magical accident landed on the brothers. They've all been transformed into…CATS! Branch, who's long been facing a similar dilemma in the past, must lead his brothers on a new adventure to find a cure before it's too late, and before they drive each other crazy.
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Here's what each BroZone brother look like when they've been turned into cats! Unlike Branch, his four older brothers' accessories became smaller after they've transformed.
1. Branch
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• Branch was still the same little cat we all know and love in Nine Lives, One Fight. The only exception was that his cat form will be more modified in this story, and he will be dancing for the first time in feline mode.
2. John Dory
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• John Dory's feline body shape looks incredibly chubby and adorable, and his legs are thick and stubby. He had a thin tail that was shorter than Branch's. In addition, his green goggles got shrunken down and remained attached to his forehead. To complete his look, John Dory decided to put a cat-sized version of his spotted white furry scarf around his neck in order to match his usual clothing because he didn't want to be completely unclothed in his new form.
3. Bruce
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• Bruce was a fat tabby cat with his design bearing a striking resemblance to Garfield the cat. He had blue fur, four dark blue stripes on his back, and a big tail with a thick dark blue tip. His four legs and paws are larger than any of his brothers, his cat ears are quite smaller, and his whiskers are slightly longer. As with John Dory's goggles, Bruce's necklace accessory also shrunk along with the rest of his body.
4. Clay
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• Clay becomes a slimmer cat with thinner legs, a skinnier tail, and longer ears and whiskers. His teeth were much sharper than his brothers'. As with John Dory's green goggles and Bruce's necklace, his wristbands got shrunken down to cat-size as well.
5. Floyd
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• Because he had the similar body shape as Branch's when he was a Troll, Floyd's cat body shape looks identical to his own cat form and he was just about the same size as him. His black earring gets shrunk and became attached to his left cat ear, which used to be his left pointed normal one. My headcanon is that Branch would purr along with him whenever they were with each other.
Yes, I know it would be great to make Branch's four brothers as cats because their littlest brother had been one ever since the previous fanfiction, Nine Lives, One Fight. CatZoned serves as a sequel to Branch's first cat adventure, and I'm thrilled to share another purr-fect story to everyone in the fandom. Unlike my past fanfictions, creating this story would require enhanced editing skills on my photos, so I hope to get it done by late 2024 or early 2025 if I’m risking it all to do it. Wish me luck on all the hard work I needed to do! 😄
Plus, I've updated my profile banner at the same time as the announcement! My 2021 profile photo would still remain though, but it still goes along with it. What do you think? 😉
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Oh, and by the way, my birthday was scheduled for this coming Thursday. If any one of you would like to create BroZone's cat forms similar to what I did, I was hoping that would amuse me a lot more. 😊
Thank you for acknowledging my prolonged absence, and I hope to see you again on my birthday! 🥳
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nouearth · 1 month
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Since everyone's sharing their Barry Allen fancast I will share mine as well: Andrew Garfield. Like just look at the material. You can't tell me he doesn't have a hot nerdy face. Also, Jensen Ackles would be a fire Hal Jordan. Both characters have a pretty tight friendship in the comics which makes my Supernatural/Spider-Man fan heart throb just like the thing inside my pant—*gunshots*
💌 : i see the vision. even though it seems like he's been taking his career more towards the indie and oscar-y avenue, i would love to see him play a superhero again. 🥲
and listen, I'VE BEEN SAYING that jensen ackles would be a great hal jordan. it's a much better pick than the bruce wayne casting. 😵‍💫
and speaking of the new bruce wayne, he'll probably be a little older... hm.... i always thought oliver jackson cohen would make a good bruce/batman, but i think his vibe might be too similar to robert pattinson's!
and anson mount if we're going for a batman in his 50s?!?! ugh.
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fancyfade · 1 year
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Raven's love interests, ranked from worst to best!
Everyone knows that Beast Boy is currently Raven’s true love, according to DC, but what many readers may not know is that in their first comic together, New Teen Titans, Raven and Beast Boy never dated! Gar in New Teen Titans was quite a ladies’ man, in fact, and Raven was the only lady who was immune to his amorous overtures. That didn’t stop Raven from having her own dating life, of course. Following are Raven’s love interests, rated from worst to best!
10: Brother Blood
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Brother Blood expressed romantic interest in Raven twice, which is two times too many if you ask me! First he brainwashed her after she died and came back to life and used her to promote his Tele-Evangelist cult scam! Then, the next Brother Blood raised Raven into a teenager’s body and wanted to marry her as well. What a creep!
9: Eric Forrester
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Eric Forrester was the sex-fiend who wanted to use Raven for her body – or rather, her soul! He was her first ‘real’ boyfriend and she easily fell for him. Sadly, he was a scumbag who wanted to use sex to steal Raven’s soul so that he could preserve his human body. The only reason he’s not the worst love interest Raven had is because Brother Blood exists!
8: Wally West / Kid Flash
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Wally West was Kid Flash when he and Raven met and she saw him throwing a fit on Mount Everest because his girlfriend dumped him. He was also in the process of quitting being Kid Flash, a theme that would repeat itself during his tenure on Teen Titans. Raven used her emotion powers to make him fall in love with her so that he would help her save the universe from Trigon. He expressed interest in her at later points in the comic, but there was no way their relationship was going to go anywhere with how it started.
7: Dick Grayson / Nightwing
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Dick Grayson was Nightwing when Raven was brought back from the dead. She immediately fell in love with him, probably due to that V-neck, and accidentally used her powers to make him fall in love with her. Dick’s girlfriend at the time, Koriand’r, was amazingly understanding, but sadly did not suggest a threesome. Instead, everyone just talked about their feelings to resolve things. How boring!
6: Garfield Logan / Beast Boy
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Yes, as we mentioned in the start of the article, Raven did date Garfield for some time. This was after she was reincarnated as a teenager, so what the heck Garfield? Anyway, their relationship is this high in the list because there was no intentional or accidental power usage influencing emotions on her part, and he didn’t have evil intentions for her. Poor Raven! Her love life never goes well!
5: Paul (Azarathaboo)
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Paul is a student from Raven’s college (Bet you didn’t know Raven was in college) who is in love with her because he’s obsessed with Azarathian culture! He then punches someone in Raven’s defense, indicating that perhaps he doesn’t understand the pacifist Azarathians very well.
4: Koriand’r / Starfire
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Now, Raven and Koriand’r don’t technically date in the comics, but neither do Raven and Paul, Raven and Dick, or Raven and Wally, and they’re all still on here! After Dick confesses his feelings about Raven to Kory, Kory takes Raven skinny-dipping in Tahiti. They’re definitely gay!
3: Joseph Wilson / Jericho
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Joey is the only guy Raven has good sexual tension with! She genuinely appreciates his compassion and listening skills, and he’s always there for her, even though he’s the newest member of the team and doesn’t know her well! She starts learning sign language from a book for him! They’d be adorable!
Sadly she goes evil and he gets traumatized by trying to possess her with his powers. Oof
2: Donna Troy / Wonder Girl
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The other lady who makes this list, Donna Troy definitely was one of the Titans most consistently present for Raven during her slow slide into evil. She even begged Raven to turn good at one point, and it worked!
She’s rated higher than Kory, because Raven’s emotional repression would bother her less than it would bother Kory.
1: Donna and Kory combined:
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I think that if the three of them were in a polycule, they could make each other better.
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This is mostly tongue in cheek, except about donnakoryrae being the best raven ship, that is true
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Reprise des créations
Hello à vous !
J'espère que vous allez bien ☺️
Pour information, je vais reprendre petit à petit les suggestions de faceclaim pour des avatars qui m'ont été faite fin août ! J'ai été pris dans l'inspiration de l'écriture sur rpg (ça faisait longtemps dooonc j'en ai profité) + le boulot qui m'a un peu roulé dessus mais je retrouve l'envie et le temps de grapher par ici 🌈
Je vous remets ci-dessous les suggestions faites, que j'ai classé par "personne qui me les a suggéré" pour être sûr d'en faire au moins 1 par personne (chaque saut de ligne = changement de personne) 💌 Je ne les ferais pas toute, mais ça vous donne une idée de sur qui je pourrais grapher ! Les barrés sont celles déjà faites, l'ordre ne veut rien dire aha et je mettrais à jour au fur et à mesure.
Merci pour votre patience et une belle soirée ✨
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