#Recent Cricket Matches

[letthebookbegin]

im ready for every eventuality

[eufezco]

THE MUSE

Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?

Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

Benedict didn't know how to ask you.

You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.

You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.

But your friendship with him had always been special.

When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.

You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.

That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.

—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.

—Good evening to you too, Benedict.

—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.

—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.

—Indeed.

You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.

He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.

—And...?

—I need practice female form.

You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.

—And you want me to...?

—Pose for me.

You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.

Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.

—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.

—I need you to ...

Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.

—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—

—I need to practice naked female form.

Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.

You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.

—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?

—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.

Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.

He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.

—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.

—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.

Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.

Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.

He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?

Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.

The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.

—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.

Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.

—Could we try another position?

You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.

He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?

Lust.

Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.

Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.

He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.

You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.

Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.

—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.

—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.

He was satisfied with your answer.

Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.

He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.

—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.

Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.

You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.

You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?

Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.

[biolumien]

but thankfully, the wind...

notes: do not ask me how much research i did for this. the answer is that while wikipedia is a helpful source, i wonder if i am missing out on the real info, trenches deep in a 39 page article about fertility and marriage in the heian period...

also this will be multichapter. peace and love on planet earth!

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader reader throws hands. this is an arranged marriage fic word count: 1364

there was never any room for love in your life. you knew that much. your eventual arranged marriage—because it was never a choice, really, it was an inevitability—would always be for political reasons. 

your family wasn’t a particularly powerful one—you were the daughter of a dying clan with no male heir, so your father was desperate to find you a good match. to sell you off to the most desperate buyer, you’d say archly, glaring at him. at night, while you listened to the chirping of summer cicadas turn to fall crickets and then to the dull silence of winter, you wished that your father’s search for an appropriate marriage candidate would fail, that the matchmaker would find no one. 

eventually, however, your family would receive a marriage offer from the hoshina clan. 

the hoshina clan was a name that held great prestige—its sons were known for their swordsmanship, for a lineage of honorable and noble samurai. but recently, the name seemed to take on a more negative light—rumors of the eldest son, soichiro hoshina, running off to become a lawless ronin and forcing the second son, soshiro hoshina, to take on the mantle of heir. 

you’d watched as your father celebrated his good luck—his good luck at finding you a partner. the blight on the hoshina name aside, the prestige of a family of well-known and reputable samurai could be enough to pull your family out of its dying state. 

but your life, as far as you were concerned, was basically over. 

you wanted nothing to do with the prestige of anything. what did it matter, that the hoshina clan was of great renown? of course, you knew that you’d never marry for love—but even a caged bird dreams of the opportunity of getting to fly on its own, surely. you dreamed of a possibility of marrying for love—that you’d meet some nice man that would whisk you away to the countryside, where you could live out the rest of your life.

but you’d be forced to abandon that dream now. 

and so, while your family and the hoshina clan arranged meetings through the matchmaker, you mourned the end of your life. 

but for better or for worse, soshiro hoshina… was an interesting man. 

he was very quiet, or that’s what you thought for the most part, at least. he spoke softly, sharply towards his father, but would smile cautiously towards you—but in a way where you could tell it was a clear mask, all a part of the facade of the good son, the soon-to-be-wed husband following tradition. 

his hair was just long enough to be tied back into a small bun, and the kimono he wore was a stark black with the faintest hint of violet–the kind of dye saved only for royalty, the high nobility. his hakama was that same shade of violet,  a clear sign of wealth, in any case. 

when he deigned to look at you, you found his eyes were a bright scarlet. 

the first two meetings of your omiai were nothing much of note. soshiro was simply calm, watching you. even when you were given time alone with him, he never made any attempt to touch you, nor to speak. the first time he’d done it, you’d tried to fill the air with words, only for him to just watch you. your face flushed from embarrassment and something like anger, and you’d lifted up your sleeve to hide the wave of emotions crossing your face. 

you’d never asked to be married to this man. so why wouldn’t he speak to you? why did he have to look at you like he pitied you and was upset at this whole fraught affair?

the third meeting was always the one of most importance. it was an implicit agreement to marriage—and despite knowing there was no way your father would have let you say no to the third meeting, you faced it with a sort of irrational upset. it was like standing in front of a precipice that you couldn’t back away from—acknowledging the cliff but still being forced down it. 

this time, soshiro stood in front of you, his father absent. two katanas were sheathed at his side, their handles interwoven with fine black and golden cord. 

“my father suggested that the two of us take our time to be alone today,” soshiro says, looking at your father first, before turning to you. “shall we, then?”

“as if i could say no,” you say, your voice gentle and lilting. you remember your lessons—when you got married, you would be forced to hide your horns, so to speak—your shame and your anger, jealousy and desperation. the feelings that were utterly unbecoming for you—or so your father and mother would say. 

you guide soshiro through the halls of your home, guiding him towards the room your father had set aside for the omiai—it was beautiful, ornate, delicately furnished, of course, with a balcony leading out to a beautiful garden. 

as you folded your legs to sit down, soshiro remained standing.  

“i suppose it might shock you,” soshiro says. soshiro’s voice was soft. gentle. “the marriage offer, and the suddenness of it.” 

his eyes flit to the beautiful garden outside. you know the truth of it—it’s beautiful, but it’s a gilded thing, hiding the rot and abandonment underneath. your family’s legacy in a nutshell, you think bitterly. a collection of power plays and alliances in a desperate attempt to curry favor, to maintain the idea that there was still something good here. as if any of this was worth saving. 

“it doesn’t shock me at all,” you say, trying to keep the bitterness from rising in your voice. “we all have roles we must play. and mine was always destined to be this.” 

“i never wanted to be married,” soshiro says. “the role of a faithful husband and proper heir was always more emphasized for my brother.” 

you laugh archly, delicately, raising yourself to your feet. 

from within a pocket in your kimono’s sleeve, you unsheath a beautiful and ornate knife. the gift had been from the hoshina clan—when your father had opened the gift, he’d sounded extremely honored to have received it— something about the knife representing the hoshina clan’s hopes that you would bear for them a son that might become a sword prodigy as well. 

as you raise the knife to soshiro’s throat, you simply smile. you think it might be an expression unbecoming of a woman of your station—the soon-to-be bride of a samurai. soshiro’s eyes simply watch yours. he doesn’t even shake, his hands not even moving to the katana sheathed at his side. somehow, that irritates you. does he think so little of you that he wouldn’t even raise his sword against you? 

“i truly do apologize,” you murmur, venom in your voice. “it must be such an inconvenience for you, huh? to be married to the daughter of a dying clan, as the second, disgraced and unwanted son.” you press the knife further—not enough to draw blood, but the threat of it, you hoped, conveyed enough. 

“i didn’t have a say in any of this, though,” you say. “when your family’s offer came, all i was told was how honored i should be that the hoshina clan picked me. that my family could’ve picked any other clan, a worse and older samurai that would’ve wanted me for different reasons.” 

soshiro’s gaze fixates on the dagger pointed at his neck, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

you drop the dagger on the ground.

the blade slices into the tatami mats, embedding itself there. 

“but of course. i will sympathize with you, for solidarity’s sake. we’re both doing things we’d rather not be doing.”

you walk past him, moving for the door. 

you raise your hand, touching the corner of the folding screen. you try not to think about how it would feel to punch a hole through it.

“i’ll see you for the betrothal ceremony,” you say. you turn to him, and you think you must be the picture-perfect appearance of a vengeful, resentful spirit. “but don’t you dare ever sympathize with me again.”

[lynn-tged-posting]

i was recently thinking about how whenever the hoyoverse devs have created characters that are intended as duos, their color palettes are inversions of each other

zhongli and childe, alhaitham and kaveh, etc. (there's probably more but i can't recall off the top of my head)

and it's a little design detail that i've always been enamored with because like. damn! even your colors are paired together! intertwined in a way that goes even beyond the already matching accessories and personalities and story! that shits beautiful!

anyway yes i was thinking about that

and like a slot machine slipping into a jackpot, a lightning bolt finding the weathervane, a lawnmower finally revving to life, it hits me.

what if i invert lloyd and javier's colors.

DO THEY MATCH?

i race through my photo gallery, and grab a screenshot that has the two of them together. i run it through a color inverter website. i click invert, and,,,

OOOOH MY GOD IT'S REAL THEY'RE MATCHING TRULY THE DUO OF ALL TIME LLOJAVI WIN LLOJAVI WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE ARE YOU SEEING THIS

its even their clothes, lloyd's clothes when inverted ends up being blue too

javier's ends up yellow, which at first is like "hm that doesn't show up on lloyd" until you look at his goofy ass when he's dressed formally THIS BITCH!!! FUCKED UP MOLE CRICKET AND CRACKED ASS KNIGHT!!! SHAKING THEM

THERE RIGHT THERE ITS RIGHT THERE THEY'RE INVERSIONS they make me CRAZY!!! CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i know odds are that it's not intentional - the colors match but theyre not quite exact - but i will always be under the copium that it was and that javier's bright minty blue ass (/aff) was intentionally that color because of the inversion

in conclusion, llojavi real. the duo ever. their colors match. end post

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag @guiltyasdave <3

wip #1 • come on into my bed with me (i know you want to)

you can't sleep, logan left his door open...

this is the "just the tip" old man!logan fic i talked about literally forever ago. it's heavily inspired by imogen heap's "i am in love with you" because i'm obsessed with that song and it gives me lots of old man logan vibes!

Rain pelts at the smudged glass of your window, drops trailing down the span of the panes that you follow with your eyes. It's been raining nearly all week, a rare thing in Mexico, especially somewhere as dry as Sonora. You used to love the rain. You felt a special kind of comfort anytime night would come and there'd be a certain chill swirling through the air, that familiar scent of damp soil and wet stone rising as the first drops hit the ground. In Sonora, rain is supposed to be a gift—a reprieve from the unrelenting heat, a chance for the dry earth to drink. It should feel cleansing, like reset of sorts, and maybe it would have a few months ago. Now it just feels heavy, oppressive. Each raindrop splattering against the glass feels like a reminder of everything that's stuck, unmoving. The soft noise of it was almost enough to lull you to sleep, but it was still no match for your wandering mind. You’ve been finding yourself here a lot recently, shrouded in the scratchy sheets of your bed in the quiet dark encompassing your room, mind racing. It was raining the first night he touched you.

wip #2 • dull browns and dusty blues...

they say cowboys aren't made to be lovers...

part two of my yet to be named cowboy!logan series! i haven't forgotten about it! i honestly see this as being a longer fic so it'll definitely take me a bit to get it out, but trust that i'm working on it.

You leave your window open at night, letting the cool breeze that swirls outside fill the four walls of your room as the sweet sounds of crickets chirping lulls you to sleep. And you dream about Logan, of course you do. You dream about the way his lips felt against yours, about the way he tasted, about the way he smelled. You dream of the way he held you as you spun in slow circles under the stars, how his rough hands cradled your face, all hardened callouses and overwhelming tenderness. It’s been two weeks since you’ve seen him, two full weeks since the Governor’s ball. You’d like to say that you’ve been too busy to think about him. That being knee deep in stacked cardboard boxes and stray packing tape has kept your mind occupied. That isn’t the case. It’s almost embarrassing how much Logan lingers in your thoughts, so abundant that even your subconscious couldn't escape the sharp angles of his face. It’s a dangerous kind of longing, the sort that twists itself around your ribs and refuses to let go. So you try your best to bury it, to ignore it and keep yourself in check. You're too scared to think about whether it's really working or not.

kisses!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing @eupheme @elflutter @silverskyeline @ovaryacted @moonlight-prose @raeinyourdreams @javier-pena and you!

[mrs-stans]

The 11 Best-Dressed Men at the 2025 Oscars, Ranked

Even on Hollywood’s most traditional night, guys just want to have fun.

By Yang-Yi Goh and Eileen Cartter

If the menswear at last year’s Oscars was truly just Ken, we’re grateful the fellas this year showed up with a little more…Substance.

On Sunday night, the biggest red-carpet stars at the 97th Academy Awards were also some of the biggest stars of the whole shebang. Three actors in competition—Colman Domingo, Timothée Chalamet, and Jeremy Strong—happened to be dogged fashion plates, and thus were all but guaranteed to pull up in envelope-pushing ensembles. But even their fellow nominees, Sebastian Stan and Ralph Fiennes, cranked up the volume on their standard black tuxedos.

Heavy on the straight-off-the-runway designer garms, timeless British tailoring, and more than a few swing-for-the-fences swerves, it all added up to one of the more exciting menswear spectacles in recent Oscar memory. Here are the 11 best-dressed men from the 2025 Academy Awards, definitively ranked.

11. Jeremy Strong

Still the number-one boy in our hearts, best supporting actor nominee Jeremy Strong hit the Oscars carpet in his signature hue—brown—by way of a taut, cortado-toned tuxedo with sharp lapels and a matching criss-crossed bow tie. The tux hailed from Loro Piana, the Italian luxury brand with whom Strong has maintained a close relationship since his Succession days. (Loro Piana also made Kendall Roy’s most notorious accessory: a $625 logoless cashmere baseball cap.) Anyways, props to Strong for continuing to incorporate his signature quirks into just about any genre of formalwear.

Tuxedo by Loro Piana.

10. Samuel L. Jackson

As per usual, a handful of fellas attempted the all-black-everything look—a move with a higher degree of difficulty than you might think, because it’s tough to pull off without looking like a Vegas nightclub bouncer. Our guy Samuel L. managed to sidestep that issue by way of an elegant Giorgio Armani notch-lapel tuxedo—understated save for a touch of festive sequins along the interior edges of the jacket and down the seams of the trousers—paired with a crisp Mandarin-collar shirt and some textbook, right-on-trend accountant glasses. The only thing missing? One of his signature backwards Kangols, which would’ve rocketed him up this list by at least a couple of spots.

Suit by Giorgio Armani.

9. Jeremy Pope

Speaking of all-black-everything and Mandarin collars: Pope, a Broadway fixture and recent Calvin Klein model, opted for a silky smooth Balmain ensemble that, between its graceful Tang suit silhouette and louche flared bottoms, looked very much like something Bruce Lee would’ve worn in his swaggering ’70s heyday. And while the whole bow motif thing might seem a touch tired in womenswear these days, swapping ’em in here on the jacket in place of the typical Chinese frog fasteners felt fresh and inspired.

Suit by Balmain.

8. Mick Jagger

Dig through the GQ.com archives for any length of time, and you’ll find no shortage of photos of a young Mick Jagger looking stylish as all hell: prepped up in a classic striped rugby in 1964; splayed out on stage in a trim cricket jumper and Repettos a year later; getting married in St. Tropez in a rip-roaring three-piece and beat-to-shit canvas kicks in the early ’70s. So it was nice to see that at 81, Jagger still possesses the righteous verve that everyone from Harry Styles to Hedi Slimane continues to emulate today—even if the Stones frontman did have to trade his iconic heeled Cuban boots for a more sensible pair of Nike runners with his glittery pinstripe suit.

7. Mark Eydelshteyn

We mean it as a total compliment when we say: What a perfectly weird suit for a perfectly weird guy. Hollywood’s newest sweetheart, Mark Eydelshteyn—one of the many breakout stars from the big winner of the night, Sean Baker’s Anora—looked great in his wonky double-breasted tuxedo by Balenciaga. The tux had great movement, which suited Eydelshteyn as he goofed around on the red carpet. A good sartorial precursor to the Anora team spending the rest of their evening dancing their faces off to t.A.T.u.’s 2002 hit “All The Things She Said.”

Tuxedo by Balenciaga Couture.

6. Paul Tazewell

Wicked costumer Paul Tazewell made history at last night’s ceremony, becoming the first Black man to win the Oscar for best costume design. (We like to think that his victory was at least partly thanks to his dripped-out vision for the film’s CGI goat professor, Dr. Dillamond.) He took to the stage in a fantastical custom tuxedo and an Oz-green watch, which lent a nice blend of old-school formality and whimsy—which were also two of the most winning qualities of his Wicked costume design—to the night’s menswear milieu. And what a cool move that, at the afterparty, Tazewell unfurled his ribbon collar while he held his Oscar statuette high. As he should!

Tuxedo by Dolce & Gabbana. Shoes by Bottega Veneta. Watch by IWC. Jewelry by Fred Leighton.

5. Ralph Fiennes

Savile Row heads, this one’s for you. Fiennes, ever the consummate Briton, turned to one of London’s most exciting young bespoke houses for his Oscars night look. Taillour, the brainchild of Timothy Everest vets Lee Rekert and Fred Nieddu, fashioned a tuxedo for the Conclave star in their signature uber-wide-lapelled cut. The garment draped across his figure immaculately, as you might imagine, a point that Fiennes drove home by displaying his spry physicality on the red carpet. A white-edged bow tie added the faintest touch of rebellious flourish to an otherwise classic rig executed to perfection.

Suit by Taillour. Shoes by Manolo Blahnik.

4. Colman Domingo

Colman Domingo’s red-carpet fashion has become its own awards-season spectator sport, and he is always his own best competition. At Sunday’s Oscars, the best actor nominee wore a lipstick-red Valentino tuxedo jacket with contrasting black lapels and a fringed sash tied at the waist, which he accessorized with a pair of rose-tinted glasses. No matter how the awards went, Domingo’s was an outfit fit for celebrating—and it’s no wonder that he started a party in the room during the commercial break.

Tuxedo by Valentino. Watch by Omega. Jewelry by Boucheron.

3. Timothée Chalamet

We’ll miss the freaky fever dream that was Timothée Chalamet’s A Complete Unknown press tour, but something tells me the now twice-thwarted best actor nominee will have something new up his sleeve in no time. It seems Chalamet and his stylist, Taylor McNeill, reached some sort of sartorial mind-meld over the past several months, as proven by this heater of a margarine-yellow leather suit designed by Givenchy’s incoming creative director Sarah Burton, which featured the inspired pairing of a cropped tuxedo jacket and snug trousers that fit like jeans. It was the most-discussed look of the night for good reason, even if it probably stung a little extra to have to gamely lose your category while dressed like a stick of butter.

Suit by Givenchy. Watch and jewelry by Cartier.

2. Omar Apollo

Pop star Omar Apollo, who appeared in the Oscar-snubbed Luca Guadagnino film Queer, was the menswear maximalist of the evening. But there’s a reason why you sometimes just want it with the works: The fishnet veil with the goatee and braids; the flared pants with the bow-dotted ballet flats; the polka-dot shirt with the fringed scarf where a tie should be. We’ve had it with these Hollywood guys throwing on a single brooch and calling it a day (though, of course, Apollo had one of those on, too). When the vibe is right, more certainly is more.

Suit by Valentino. Veil by Binata Millinery. Jewelry by Chopard.

1. Sebastian Stan

This is it, folks: the nexus of traditional, Old Hollywood black-tie and radical, New Hollywood high-fashion. Designed expressly for the best-actor nominee by taste gods Miuccia Prada and Raf Simons, Stan’s Prada tuxedo truly—as Stefon might put it—had everything: swooping, elongated shawl lapels; a flatteringly broad cummerbund; razor-sharp, full-legged trousers; and a right-on-time pair of gleaming square-toe shoes. But the pièce de résistance, the reason this look landed in the number-one spot, is the shirt. The wide, crepey pleats and soft winged collar are on their own winsome spins on tuxedo-shirt hallmarks; paired with that creamy ecru tone, however, it elevates the whole endeavor to a hall-of-fame-worthy Oscar-night kit.

Tuxedo by Prada. Watch and jewelry by Cartier

[mochipatch]

CarCar Fic Ideas

I need a fic (a drabble would do) wherein Carlos is mourning the loss of Oscar's long hair like the dramatic Spanish that he is. Someone, please write this. (Carlos is all sulky about it as Oscar rolls his eyes at him. Carlos then uno reverses it back to him when Oscar is the one sulking when Carlos tries to cut/wax/shave his hair).

In light of recent events, Oscar was seen wearing a polo during a cricket match. Carlos gifts Oscar a polo with his Oscar's initials embroidered (like Carlos!). If they are together - Oscar takes it as a sign that they are in for the long run (fluff ensues). If they are in a situationship - Oscar may find it weird or make him question what they really are.

Oscar in the EG video of them translating Spanish to English phrases. It reminds me of that certain Modern Family clip of Gloria trying to make Manny learn Spanish. Oscar is secretly learning Spanish for Carlos - taking notes of the accidental Spanish words/phrases that Carlos drops on him. On the other hand, Carlos tries to teach Oscar, but then Oscar teases him by being nonchalant about it. Taking it further by saying that he'd rather learn French. The EG video has been launched, and Carlos is surprised and sappy about it.

[thefirelookout]

Dead silence

This post is an attempt to share or let out some of my complex feelings about the situation in Bangladesh.

We went to our city's protest yesterday. It was a silent, peaceful protest. The Bangladeshi student community here in Kingston stood in a human chain with placards. "Save Bangladesh student", yes grammatically wrong, yes, it assumes that young revolutionaries need saving, so on and so forth. The protest started and ended quietly. My non-Bangladeshi friends were a bit confused, since they're used to chanty protests for Palestine, or union picket lines with cars passing by, honking in support. There was more noise even for the Iranian protests, Zan Zendegi Azadi. The silence of a graveyard in this one, though.

Who cares about little old Bangladesh? I sometimes wonder. We're not in the eye of the middle eastern storm like Syria, Lebanon or Palestine are. We're not strategically important, we don't even have many natural resources like Sudan or Congo do. The Prime Minister visited China recently to ask for an aid or a loan, and came back pretty much empty handed. China isn't very interested in us. India has gotten what it needed to get, and can milk more out of us, but they can do the same with Nepal or Bhutan too. We're never in the headlines, the US or the West in general isn't interested in us at all. And Pakistan denies that the 1971 genocide ever happened.

Which is why, the world isn't missing our voices due to the internet blackout.

The voices were all over my Facebook newsfeed. Aunties and apus on Facebook live selling sarees, jewelry, crafts, elderly boomers sharing gardening tips, quick fixes or herbal remedies that they swear by, people sharing posts about cricket or which cricketer's wife wore what, food bloggers calling every possible dish juicy (be it a burger or the meat in biriyani), celebrity drama, political drama to the extent of what was allowed back home. That sort of thing.

Now, again, there's the silence of a graveyard over here. And I feel like screaming till I snap my vocal cords. Can you all please come back? Please? The silence is unbearable! Please! I won't judge you if you sell your wares! Please! I won't judge if you think turmeric water can act as a miracle detox! Please, please I won't say a word if your post about your stupid cricket match! Just something, please say something! I haven't seen a single one of you online. Please don't die, please stay safe. When the internet comes back, please, post about your vacations and your pets. Not the dead, please, don't post about the bodies. I can take a bit of silence but not more bodies please!

Speaking of bodies. There was an armoured vehicle, painted navy blue in the colours of the police (fuck them). And there was a body on top of it. Dead, obviously, very dead, because it flopped down with the slightest nudge, and was left on the streets. Before that happened, the vehicle drove about as if parading its spoils of war, with the body on top. Sending a message. This will happen to you if you raise your voice.

That image has been haunting me for two nights now. So yeah, I'm not man enough to get some incisive political analysis out. I have no either or predictions for what happens if the regime falls or doesn't fall. My body feels numb, I've been binge eating because I still have food in the house and I won't be gunned down if I go out to get groceries now. My non-Bangladeshi friends, bless their first world hearts, have never had to live under fascism. Bless their hearts, have never had to stifle their voices to the extent that we've had to. Bless their beautiful hearts, could hardly pronounce Bangladesh. But they still showed up to that docile little protest because they care about my spouse and I. I can't even begin to thank them.

My insides are tearing up. I'm sitting with a poker face typing all this word vomit, but my insides are nothing but a scream. No clever realpolitik comes out of a heart that's screaming, because our mouths are sewn shut.

[axvoter]

Index to the Blatantly Partisan Party Reviews, 2025 WA state edition

Saturday, 8 March 2025, is election day in Western Australia. Roger Cook’s Labor government is almost certain to be returned; the question is how much ground the Liberal Party and their on-again off-again partners the National Party will regain after Labor landslides in 2017 and 2021. That second landslide, under previous Labor leader Mark McGowan, was one of the most astonishing in Australian history, with Labor holding 53 of the 59 seats in the lower house (the Legislative Assembly) and obtaining a majority in the upper house (the Legislative Council) for the first time. Next week, the Liberals might be able to form a cricket team from their members in the lower house—maybe even a footy team!

For election nerds, this election has added interest: the upper house is being elected via a new and much fairer electoral system. It is now elected on a statewide basis: no matter where you live, your vote is worth as much as that of anyone anywhere in the state. Moreover, the anti-democratic and discredited system of Group Ticket Voting is a thing of the past and your preferences will only go where you direct them. The quota for winning a seat in the upper house is just 2.63%, the lowest of any state, so although stringent criteria for party registration means that ballots are not cluttered with as many chancers and nutjobs as many recent Australian elections, it is very likely that several minor parties will win seats—some for the first time.

I’ve written my blog entries to demystify these minor parties and indies. I do not review Labor, Liberal, or the Greens, as I assume anyone reading this blog already has views on them; I have reviewed One Nation for the first time in years, and I reviewed the Nationals for the first time as there is unusual interest surrounding their campaign, which includes candidates standing against the Liberals in multiple seats in metropolitan Perth. All entries are written from a left-wing perspective sympathetic to democratic socialism and green politics, so calibrate according to your own predilections. I make no pretension to false objectivity—that’s why these are blatantly partisan party reviews.

When you go to vote, you will receive two ballot papers. The smaller ballot is for the Legislative Assembly, where government is formed. The number of candidates varies significantly between electorates. To cast a valid vote for the Legislative Assembly, you must number ALL squares in the order of your preference. Do not skip or repeat a number. If your preferred candidate is not elected, your vote transfers at full value to your second preference, and so on. You might receive a how-to-vote card from party campaigners: this is a suggestion only and you can fill out your preferences in any order you like. Ignore “no preference” in my recommendations below: it applies only to the Legislative Council.

The larger ballot is for the Legislative Council, which is a house of review. A thick line divides each column in two and you can vote either above the line OR below the line. Do not mix and match. All parties and groups with 5 or more candidates get a square above the line; these squares are labelled for registered parties, while the unlabelled square in Group M is for a group of five independents who are standing together. The final column at furthest right has five more independents running solo campaigns, and who are not affiliated with each other or any party; they do not get a square above the line.

Put simply: if you vote above the line, you are voting for parties; if you vote below the line, you are voting for individuals. Voting above the line means that your preference works through each party in the order you preferenced them, but you accept the order in which individual parties have listed their own candidates. Voting below the line means you can order individuals any way you want within and across groups.

To cast a valid vote for the Legislative Council above the line, place a number 1 in the square for the party of your first preference. You can then keep numbering as many or as few parties as you want. Why should you vote this way? It is quicker and easier. This is the best choice for most voters.

To cast a valid vote for the Legislative Council below the line, you must number a minimum of 20 candidates sequentially from 1–20. You can then keep numbering as many or as few people as you want. You should vote below the line if the following apply to you: a) you want to reorder candidates within a group and/or mix and match candidates across groups, b) you want to vote for ungrouped independents, or c) you are a completist like me who wants to indicate a preference for everyone. Be warned: if you plan to number all squares below the line, plan your vote beforehand so you can copy it in the booth.

Whether you vote above or below the line, the further you preference, the more powerful your vote will be. Give as many preferences as you feel you can provide in an informed manner.

Below are links to my reviews of parties and upper-house independents. The format is “party name (rough ideology / recommended preference)”. A good preference is a party with few or no significant flaws for the left-wing voter; a decent preference indicates a generally positive platform or a single-issue party with a good but limited objective; a middling preference is a mix of positive and negative qualities; a weak or no preference is mainly negative and either you should give them a poor preference or—on the big ballot for the Legislative Council only—let your vote exhaust if you wish.

Animal Justice Party (animal rights / middling to decent preference)

Australian Christians (Christian fundamentalism / weak or no preference)

Group M: five grouped independents (complete crackpots of varying flavours / weak or no preference)

Legalise Cannabis WA (single issue / middling preference)

Libertarian Party (far-right libertarianism / weak or no preference)

The Nationals WA (rural conservatism / weak or no preference)

One Nation (xenophobic far-right populism / weak or no preference)

Shooters, Fishers and Farmers (anti-environmentalist gun nuts / weak or no preference)

Stop Pedophiles! Protect kiddies! original entry, first update, and second update (farcical right-wing obscurities / weak or no preference)

Sustainable Australia Party–Anti-corruption (anti-immigration NIMBYs / weak or no preference)

Ungrouped independents: Sudhir Sudhir (right-wing of some sort / weak or no preference), Christiane Smith (rural conservative / weak or no preference), Jennifer McRae (adoptee advocate with no clear ideology / weak to middling preference), Peter McLernon (far-right crank / weak or no preference), Steve Walker (single issue: voluntary euthanasia / decent preference)

Western Australia Party / Anthony Fels in Churchlands (right-wing serial candidate / weak preference)

Happy voting and enjoy your democracy sausages!

And YES, I will be back for this year's Australian federal election when it is called. It will be in either April or May. See you then!

[sommerflue-22]

Cherish You Forever | Kyojuro Rengoku x f!Reader

──────────────────────────────────────────

Content Warning: Mention of night terrors, Kyojuro survives but he retired yay, Kyojuro being a loving husband T^T

Word Count: 1.3k

──────────────────────────────────────────

You awoke upon hearing a loud crash coming from outside your room and sat up immediately. The lamp was turned off and it was still dark outside. The sound of crickets signaled that it was still the middle of the night—or, at the very least, early morning before the sun rose.

You touched the space next to you to wake up your husband, fearing that it was a burglar. Your husband, however, was not in your shared futon. You instantly realized what had occurred: your husband was awake and probably made that sound.

You left your warm futon and made your way out to look for your husband, worried. You tried hard not to make any noise with your steps, worried of startling your husband. It was not difficult to find him because the kitchen door was wide open.

When you peeked inside, you saw your husband kneeling and scooping something up from the floor. His cane was resting against the counter.

"Kyojuro-sama?" You called out his name softly as you turned on the light switch.

Kyojuro glared over his shoulder, a dark circle beneath his eye apparent. He stopped picking up the shattered porcelain cup he had dropped on the floor.

You snatched a rag from the kitchen counter and crouched next to him, helping him in picking up the fragments of the cup.

"Another night terror, dear?" You asked calmly as you wrapped the pieces and tossed them into the trash bin. You took his hands in yours and lifted him up, gave him his walking stick. Kyojuro kept his gaze fixed on the ground and did not respond to the question you asked. "Why don't you wait in the dining room, hm? I'll make you a cup of tea, yeah?"

You let go of his hands and went to make the tea, filling one of the kettles and boiling it on the the stove. A strong arm wrapped around your shoulder as you switched on the the stove. Kyojuro sighed and leaned his chin against on top of your head.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out, "It was your favorite cup, wasn't it?"

"Well, yeah but they still sell it in town. It doesn't matter, dear." You turned around, staring up at your beautiful husband.

Kyojuro kept his eye on you while his hand placed yours on his left cheek, near his eyepatch. Your lips tugged up in a small smile.

When you first met Kyojuro, you were curious about what had happened to his left eye. However, you did not dare to ask him about it. You had only recently met. You didn't want to be impolite, especially with your parents, his father, and Senjuro in the room. After all, you'd be marrying the man in a year. You had plenty of opportunity to get to know him.

Kyojuro only told you about his left eye incident on your first night as newlyweds. He let you open his yukata and his eyepatch. You uncovered what was beneath the patch after a year together. Deep scars sewn over his blind eye, as well as a massive scar on his abdomen. Kyojuro kept his gaze fixed on you as you stroked your gentle finger over his battle scars.

Then he told you about what happened while he was a Hashira. He was almost killed by an 'Upper Rank Demon,' but he was lucky since dawn was approaching and the demon fled. He had to go through numerous treatments to heal his wounds. Kyojuro's recovery was challenging, especially when he began having night terrors regarding his near-death experience. The ease with which the demon's hand pushed into his abdomen, the pain he felt when he was carried back in a stretcher, the moment he saw his late mother and realized he was about to join her in the afterlife. Kyojuro, who was half-blind and forced to walk with a walking stick, had no choice but to retire from the corps. That's when his father came up with the proposal of matching him with you, a daughter of an old acquaintance.

Nothing had ever prepared Kyojuro for the moment you told him he was strong and beautiful despite his wounds. He still got flustered now, even with the fact that you've been married for two years.

You caressed his cheek and drew him in closer, kissing the tip of his nose softly. Kyojuro's brow furrowed, and his nose pricked. You laughed and lightly slapped his chest.

"Go wait in the dining room, dear. I'll bring you tea."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The water was quickly brought to a boil. You put some tea leaves in a teapot and filled it with hot water. You carried the teapot and two cups to your dining room on a tray.

Kyojuro sat on the tatami floor, his legs hidden beneath the warm kotatsu table. He appeared to be feeling better, with a faint smile on his lips as he watched you sit down next to him and place the tray on the table.

"So," you started, "how are you feeling?"

"Much better, now you're here." Kyojuro answered. He got back to his usual cheerful tone, though not as loud. Understandable, since the two of you just woke up in the middle of the night.

You sighed and hugged his torso from the side. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Of course I didn't want to disturb you." Kyojuro kissed the top of your head. "Besides, this is something I've grown accustomed to."

"I know, but I still want to be there for you, I want to help you."

"(Y/N), dear, you're already helping me. I lost my career, I had no idea where to go, what to do. You gave me a reason to keep living."

You looked up to your husband, waiting if he wanted to continue talking.

"You were supportive when I said I wanted to study history, hoping that I can be a teacher someday. You always take care of me when I'm sick, or helping me when I'm struggling to do something... even if I say I can do it on my own. You befriend my ex colleagues. Tengen and his wives, Sanemi and Giyuu, even young Kamado. You were so patient whenever I had my night terrors, holding me in your arms until I calmed down. You do it every time, for two years until it got better lately. You've done a lot of things to help me already, (Y/N)."

You hummed, not really knowing how to respond to Kyojuro.

"I used to feel pathetic, defeated, useless. All because of these," Kyojuro waved his hand, motioning to his body, "But now I see it as a blessing. Because without these injuries, I wouldn't have marry you, the best partner I could ever asked for."

"Kyojuro... sama..."

"I love you, (Y/N)... and I'm going to cherish you forever, even in the afterlife, even in our next life." Kyojuro lifted up your chin and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips.

You slowly took off Kyojuro's eyepatch and kissed his left eye, before you kissed his nose again. He giggled and pecked your forehead.

"I don't know where you learn to speak like that." You covered your face out of embarrassment.

"Ah... Tengen, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," you patted his cheek and turned to the teapot. "Come on, let's drink our tea and get back to bed."

"I'm not sleepy yet, though."

"We can talk until we fall asleep."

Kyojuro grinned from ear to ear, "I would love that."

You poured the tea into each of your cups and the two of you drank in silence. It was comfortable, it felt right.

"Oh, by the way..."

Kyojuro turned to you and raised an eyebrow.

"I love you too, Kyojuro-sama. Always will."

────────────────────────────────────────── I wrote this at one am bcs i'm under the weather and i miss Kyojuro T^T

Thank you for reading! Find me on Ao3 and Twitter

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Sickfic

Words: 984 🥲

@wolfstarmicrofic

TW for non graphic mentions of vomiting and covid

***

The Marauders had booked a cottage by the sea for a fortnight. Lily and James hadn’t been away since their honeymoon and Pete needed a break after his recent breakup with Sybil. (She told him she didn’t see a future with him, it was brutal.)

The plan was for Remus and Sirius to drive down on Friday, do a big food shop, and wait for the others to show up on Monday. Sirius had been thanking whatever gods arranged cricket matches for Pete and James’ team having one organised for the Sunday afternoon.

Since Remus had moved into his own place the previous year, Sirius had realised a couple of things. The first being that he couldn’t cook, at all. Remus was by no means a chef, but he understood what flavours went together somehow and how to know when things were cooked. The second was that he was absolutely head over heels in love with his best friend and had been for a long time.

There had been a very confusing drunken conversation with James where he was baffled to learn that James didn’t also want to lick Remus’ neck every time he reached for a mug in the top cabinet. He had peer-reviewed this data by asking Pete, Gideon, Fabian, Dorcas, Marlene, Mary, Lily, and Benjy Fenwick the same thing. None of them saw ‘neck licking’ as a platonic activity and among them, only Benjy was also interested in licking Remus’ neck, which, honestly, only made Sirius want to invite him to hang out with them all less.

But he’d figured it out eventually and now he was excited for a weekend of domestic bliss with his Moony before the others arrived. Just like old times.

Things started to go wonky on the drive down. Remus had developed a splitting headache somewhere around Bristol and Sirius took over driving. By the time they reached Plymouth, Remus was asleep.

They hadn’t made it halfway across Cornwall before Remus declared that Sirius needed to pull over immediately. He flung himself from the car and almost instantly vomited into the hedge. After five minutes of Remus propping himself against the hedge while his body heaved, he stumbled back to the car. Sirius handed him a bottle of water, some mints, and a plastic bag.

“Just in case.” He said, giving Remus’ hand a squeeze. “Are you ok to keep going now, or do you want to find a cafe and take a break?”

“It’s less than half an hour now, might as well keep going,” Remus said, hoarsely.

“Alright, let me know if you change your mind. It’s not a big deal, even if we’re only five minutes away, ok?”

They made it to St Ives with only one further stop where Remus threw up the water. They checked into the cottage and Sirius got their bags in before going to park the car. When he got back, Remus was lying on the sofa under his coat. Sirius dragged him upstairs and got him settled in the master bedroom in a nest of pillows and blankets. Then he put the kettle on and made them both a cup of tea, knowing Remus would probably be asleep by the time it was drinking temperature. He went into the bathroom, sat down on the edge of the bath, and fired off a text to the group chat.

Pads

Moony is sick. He had a headache a few hours ago and he threw up and now he’s burning up and sleeping. Trying not to panic.

James

You’re just worried your Flat 6 throwback weekend might not happen lol

Pads

Fuck off

I’m genuinely worried about him

Pete

So, I also felt really ill today and I think I know what’s wrong with him

Lily

Fuck.

Are you ok Pete? Do you need anything?

James

No way 😭 oh shit is that why I’m so achy?

Lily

Fuuuuuuuuuck

Pads

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!

Ok, nobody panic.

James

You’re the only one panicking

Pads

Yeah well, I meant me.

Ok, cool, so we both have covid probably. How do I get a test? I don’t even have a mask to go and get one.

Lily

You know Remus will have packed masks just in case. He has an emergency supply of everything I swear.

Pads

Ooh, good call.

I don’t want to wake him up but I’m not going to go through his bags.

Dilemma!

Moony

I can hear you pacing in the bathroom

I have masks

backpack front pocket

Lily

Re!

Are you ok?

Moony

No

Goodnight

Sirius went back into the bedroom and found Remus sitting up against the pillows.

“I’m dizzy when I lie down. It’s like being drunk.”

“That’s the worst.” Sirius knelt down and found the masks in Remus’ backpack. “I’m gonna go to Boots, get some tests and some cold and flu stuff. Will you be ok for ten minutes?”

“I’m sick, not an infant.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Thanks, sweetheart, you’re the best.”

As Remus snuggled back under the duvet, Sirius let himself out and headed across the road to Boots, trying not to implode at being called sweetheart, willing his hands to stop shaking.

He woke Remus up to swab his nose twenty minutes later and within seconds of putting the liquid on the test, it was positive.

“You’ve got covid, moons,” Sirius said quietly.

“I think you mean we’ve got covid. Let’s be real.” Remus groaned, “I wanted to go to the beach.”

“We’re here for two weeks, we’ll be able to go to the beach at some point.” Sirius perched next to him on the bed and pushed his hair back off his clammy forehead. “This time next week, we’ll be fine.”

Remus scoffed, “Speak for yourself.”

“Nah you’ll be fine. You’ve got me to look after you.” Remus smiled up at him sleepily and Sirius’s stomach did a flip. Oh, this was bad.

[tiredly101]

New Neighbor part 8

Pairing: Wally Darling x Writer!Male reader

New Neighbor Masterlist

Illustrated Au, here's your human knocking out the eight part of this fic! Did not think it would get so much love or I would write so many part but here we are! Anyways, picture was made by @qep0ermint!

The dinner at Gepeto's was a success, Wally enjoyed seeing M/n enjoy himself and admittedly he got a tad jealous at M/n's close friendship with Gepeto but it didn't stop him from enjoying the simple and cozy dinner with him.

M/n carefully grabbed Wally's hand and guided him outside of the restaurant after Gepeto insisted that it was on the house.

"Gepeto and you are really close, huh?," Said Wally trying to sound indifferent but he was failing because M/n could see the light crease in his eyebrow and how he tighten his hold just a tad on his hand. M/n chuckles softly while squeezing Wally's hand back for reassurance.

"He is like a brother to me, the way we met was kinda comical, almost as if it was scripted," M/n said picking Wally's interest, he looked at M/n as a sign for him to carry on while he basked in how beautiful M/n looked under the moonlight.

"I was running around this town, script's and rough drafts for some novels in hand until I crashed into him making all the paper fly around the air. He helped me up and I realized how nervous he looked, I of course asked why and he just spilled everything from how he got divorced recently to how he couldn't afford to buy the restaurant you and I were in a minute ago," M/n said while, with his hand still holding Wally's, moving his hands in motions that represented some part fo the story. Wally blushed at how handsome M/n was, mostly with how the moon was making his eyes sparkle in a almost perfect way.

"What happened then?," Asked Wally curious now looking at the sky, it was beautiful the colors that were being mixed. He should paint it, he should paint M/n with the sky so he could call it his masterpiece.

"After a year of friendship was stablish I decided that it was time to make Gepeto's a reality and bought the restaurant for him with my savings! He cried and has never let me pay a meal since then, not even after I told him that it was fine if he didn't pay," M/n said now looking at Wally's eyes while smiling softly. The sight made Wally swallow harshly as he seemed to get lost in a trance, he could paint him and it will still not be a match to the actual god like beauty that M/n, his date, possessed.

"I did promise you a dance so, would you care for a dance my darling?," Asked M/n while his eyes flickered from Wally's to his lips and then back to his eyes. Wally blushed at the action and smiled while shyly nodding a yes, M/n started humming a song and the sound of M/n's voice mixing with the soft whistle of the wind and the crickets had become the perfect white noise for Wally if he tried to sleep. They swayed from one side to the other, occasional twists and dips happened and small laughs were shared between the two of them. It was a perfect moment.

Wally sighted happily while now cuddling next to M/n on the grass against a maple tree. M/n smiled and looked at Wally gaining his attention when he pushed a strand of his blue hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear, he blushed while M/n cupped his cheek with care which made Wally melt. Wally slowly started going closer to M/n and the opposite closed the gap between them with a soft kiss. When M/n pulled apart from Wally he had a brush and he kissed Wally once again which made Wally giggle against M/n's lips, they both were thinking the same thing when they looked at each other's eyes with dopey smiles.

"Best date ever..."

Do you guys want the aftermath of the date 👀? Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so I can tag you!

Tag list:

@farleyis @whynot5243 @fluffyart5000 @blueberricowboi @bonesbonesbonesuponbones @who-let-me-write-this @pr5is1ng @just-random-post @ghosteezofvispast @nettaw @sleepyscxry @theorchardcollective @thelostboys11 @darling-w @ametistacollinsworld @vampyrefay @cloudeecheer @lacunaanonymoused @waywardstardustcollector @welcome-home-puppets @redjeanjacket @fried-lotud @waywardstardustcollector @frindtheshapeshifter405 @lotusflowerexe @sleepyscxry @the-gayest-toad @mythjustiice @backyard-bear

[ratsoh-writes]

Ratsoh's weekly newsletter!

Characters in relationships:

Honey

Salt

Sparks

Mal

Cash

Pop

Rhythm

Pluto

Jupiter

Lilac

Coffee

Pretty much all the mafias except tempest

Moose

Peaches

Alden

Cricket

Compass

Pitch

Ram

Jasper

Artemis

Lush

Rust

Special exceptions

Red/oak: are soulbonded together but if someone’s brave enough to try and seduce both of them it could happen

Current kids in play:

Leo: lush and kei

Rosie Fran Bruno: rust and Ann

Theo Berlin: butch darlin snipe

Winnie: sugar

The quadruplets: kovu

Lacey: Marcelo and the harem lol

Swing: pop E

Akira: katana sparks

Ollie: Nicky honey salt

Current issues/drama

Recently butch has run into a skeleton monster who eerily reminds him of … well himself. He thinks he might have found another hidden child of roulette. Word has spread to the rest of the family now and don and madame are attempting to track the possible family down.

There’s been strange activity around the caverns of Ridgeside. Some claim to hear a strange humming some nights as well as the ground shaking! Some of the guard were previously sent to investigate and have discovered a secret MASSIVE nest of magical locusts. the outbreak has been contained, as the effect would have been devastating for farmers all over ebott if the nest had been allowed to grow and take flight. There are talks over what to do with the bugs now.

Two monsters and a mage were recently arrested for attempted robbery and murder. It was discovered they were part of a plot designed by another bitter drake monster to take out business rivals from her own au. The mastermind has since been apprehended although her identity is being kept secret from the public.

A publication by one of the royal scientists has monsters taking sides as it was discovered that monster lines who dont have human blood within a certain amount of generations magic will slowly dwindle causing the fertility problems that most aus struggle with. Racial tensions are high between monsters and humans as many deny the papers as a political move while others claim the papers invalidate the beliefs of the first.

charm has been practically in hiding these days as the recent papers published quoted his own studies from his scientist days several times. Thankfully he sugar and winnie were allowed to stay with lush and his family for the time being until all the attention on him dies down.

Positive news:

The venue for the freedom festival has taken tips from the previous golden festival and will once again take place in Portland to make it more hadal accessible. Due to some injuries last year, the official freedom matches will only allow professional dualists allowed. as this will shorten the matches by quite a lot, several different combat based competitions like wrestling, fencing, boxing and some agility courses will also be available to the public.

baby Lior, the child of the royals Asgore and Toriel will be making his first public appearance this freedom festival. security this year is said will be tighter than ever.

In light of the publications made about human and monster relationships, the royal Empress recently came out as having soulbonded to her human husband, ambassador Louis Du Hamel- now Louis Dreemur. It is the first recorded instance of a human being named a royal consort or taking on any sort of royl related role in history.

Baby ozzy is now a walking toddler! he's a bit clumsy but is loving the freedom of toddling around. adorable, simply adorable.

[blairaptor]

This year for my bestie @gadzooksgalore's birthday, I drew her sweet little rat girl OC Cricket! I've been enjoying the daffodils blooming recently, so I thought Cricket would be cute holding a fresh daffodil that matches her shirt. Happy Birthday!

[jujutsustraycats]

ISH DID YOU WATCH THE CRICKET MATCH

NOOOO BUT HOW DID IT GO (OR HOW IS IT GOING)

Haven't been able to watch the recent matches help 😭😭😭

[scope-dogg]

For the past few months I've been playing Nuclear Option, which is a combat flight sim made by an indie team that started as a one-man project by a guy from Australia. I don't usually recommend Early Access games but I recommend this one wholeheartedly. I think this fan trailer that someone made is even better than official promotional materials for the game. More info / thoughts / shilling below.

It's little bit of a halfway house between arcade flight sims like Ace Combat and more authentic sims like DCS world, and it hits a bit of a sweet spot for me - it has realistic-feeling flight and damage models as well as realistic weapons, but is still way easier to pick up than more hardcore flight sims - once you wrap your had around some of the more advanced concepts like the various kinds of weapon guidance systems and their countermeasures, you're more or less good to go. Right now it has some training missions and a short selection of short singleplayer scenarios to get accustomed to the aircraft, but the real draw of the game is Escalation, which can be played singleplayer or multiplayer, where the whole map is used to fight a massive war between the two enemy factions. Each team starts off only really being able to field light ground attack aircraft and trainer jets, and as the game goes on it escalates all the way up to strategic bombers with nuclear cruise missiles.

Which accounts for the name of the game, by the way. It lets you use nuclear weapons and they're absurdly devastating. There aren't that many game that let you use nukes in regular gameplay while also having them feel as impactful as they do in real life, this is one of them. However, at the same time they're not an auto-win button because all ordnance including nuclear missiles and bombs can be shot down in flight - you have to destroy enemy air defences first.

As of the time of the video above there were five playable aircraft, right now there are 8:

The Cricket, a lightweight propeller aircraft that's for light ground attack and scouting, that can take off and land in all kinds of places

The Compass, a jet trainer that can do a little bit of everything, though not as good as dedicated aircraft, with it being best, again, at ground attack,

The Revoker, a single engine interceptor / air superiority fighter with insane speed and manoeuvrability,

The Chicane, a stealthy attack helicopter with a 30mm turret and options to mount tons of missiles for busting tanks and other vehicles,

The Ifrit, a semi-stealthy twin-engine carrier based fighter that's good all-round at everything but with a cost to match,

The Medusa, my beloved, my favourite plane in the game and probably one of my favourite fictional aircraft full-stop, a large frankenstein of a plane that includes a mix of harrier style jump-jet short take off and landing, electronic warfare, early-warning radar, anti-radiation missiles and even an anti-missile laser system,

The Darkreach, the aforementioned heavy bomber that can toss around bombs and cruise missiles, including nuclear ones, like no-one's business.

And the Tarantula, which as of writing is the most recent addition - it's a heavy transport aircraft which can airlift supplies and vehicles, which can change to a AC-130 style gunship variant with guided missiles, machine guns and like the AC-130, a howitzer with guided shells. The twist is that instead of being a standard plane it's a tilt-rotor like V-22 Osprey.

(no fancy artwork on the wiki so have the trailer where it was introduced instead)

With what they currently have there's quite a lot of variety. The three fighter aircraft are the most similar to each other but they're all still distinct, and everything besides those is almost entirely unique. There's another big update on the card likely coming through sometime soon with a ninth aircraft alongside another huge tranche of features, most likely. The best thing about this game is that unlike some early access games the updates come regularly and make significant improvements and additions every time, and the lead dev says the next update will be the biggest one yet.

The game is picking up traction but I feel like they deserve even more support, I love what they've done here. As mentioned, it's not hard to pick up even if you're new to flight sims, you don't need a massively powerful computer to play it, you can get by purely with KB+M or a normal controller with the occasional keyboard input, though it also supports HOTAS and Track-IR if you're a flight sim enthusiast. It's also cheap on Steam - IIRC it's currently 20 US dollars or whatever your regional equivalent is. It's totally free of the monetization abyss of free-to-play hell that is War Thunder, and the entire package is cheaper than basically every single DCS module. It's also cheaper than Ace Combat 7 (unless it's on sale which it almost always right now - again though, they're not really the same thing) If any of this sounds remotely interesting then you owe it to yourself to get in on this now - it'll help the continuing development of the game.