#apart from that though it was lord of fun. really beautiful

[ndotknees]

No pain. No gain.

I’d say for a first playthrough of any Rain World campaign that went pretty well. Heres to more endless suffering. 🤙

[mermaidxatxheart]

Ribbed*

You guys, I am feral for this man. And you can thank @musings-of-a-rose for this story.

Pairing: Benny Miller x Reader

Word Count: 2117

Warnings: smut. unprotected sex. Garrett Hedlund, who needs a warning all on his own.

Master List

The paper fan swings back and forth in your hand lazily. It doesn’t do much to dispel the stifling heat in your apartment, or the heat radiating from your body. But mentally, you have to be doing something. Stop drinking would probably help, but why would you do something stupid like that?

Benny Miller, your brother’s best friend is propped next to you on your couch, working on his 8th jack and coke. You have him beat by about three and a half drinks.

The air conditioning is currently out in your apartment, going on the second week. You’ve put in several requests, but they’ve all gone unanswered. So, you asked your brother’s best friend to try and figure it out. But it stumped him, so the both of you resorted to drinking. Why? Dunno, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. You drag an ice cube across your chest, not caring how the quickly melting liquid seeps into your thread-bare tank top. 

Benny lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and your eyes catch on his abdomen. Muscles on muscles. He’s so ripped, even his sides have washboard abs. Okay, maybe you’re drunk, but god damn, you can’t help but stare. Beautiful mother fucker. You’d love to smack the good looks right off his fucking face. 

You don’t quite manage to smother the laugh that escapes and he looks at you.

“What?” He asks, his own lips twitching up into a grin, even though he doesn’t know why. 

“Benny, what the fuck?” You gesture and he looks down at himself. 

“What?” He repeats. He drops his shirt and picks his hat up off his head. He scratches his fingers through his soft hair before tucking the hat back securely backwards on his head once more. The move entrances you, turning you on for some unknown reason. Mysterious kink. Why is the hat a thing?

“Nothing.” You mumble, downing a big gulp of your drink. You’re gonna need a refill in a moment. 

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” He challenges. 

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t wanna say it.” You shake your head, the fan fanning a little faster now as if you can wave the words out of your brain. But they repeat on a loop and you know if he pushes you, you’ll come right out and say it. And that would be embarrassing. 

He grabs your wrist, stopping the fan and making you look at him. His eyebrows arch up in the middle end, giving him the softest puppy dog look and you’re melting. “Tell me?” He says, and you know it’s a fucking ploy. You’ve seen that look on him when he’s flirting with girls at the bars, but you never once thought it would work on you. Lord, were you wrong. 

“Fuck.” You exhale roughly. “Fine. I was just thinking that you’re ribbed for her pleasure.” You rush and he stares at you for a long minute. 

He sits back and you think maybe he’s gonna leave, or make fun of you. Either option isn’t ideal. What you don’t expect is him to sit forward and peel off his sweaty shirt, revealing his taut, rippling muscles in all their glory. “Okay.” He says, adjusting himself on the couch and you’re staring at him. 

“What?”

“Ribbed for your pleasure.” He says, patting his abs. “Come on.” The thin gold chain around his neck glints in the dim light, distracting you for just a second. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’re the one who said it, sweetheart. You think about riding me a lot?”

“That’s not-“ you stammer.

“Not what?” He prompts. 

“The point.” You finish lamely and his grin widens. 

“You afraid?” He challenges. You shake your head. “I won’t let you fall. Come on.” He repeats. “I know you’re going through a dry spell. I am, too.” 

Fuck. Are you really going to do this? Could you even orgasm from doing something like this? Thigh riding has never really been your thing. But maybe… 

You stand up from the couch and he grins. 

“That’s my girl.” He says proudly and your knees get weak. You’re such a slut for praise and he seems to know it. You move to straddle his abs but he stops you by holding up one of his long fingers. “These need to come off, baby.” He says, slipping said finger up the closest leg of your cotton shorts. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and sliding them down your thighs slowly. He watches like a hawk and you feel the temperature in the room rising quickly. 

“Pretty girl.” He praises softly and you’re steadily getting slick between your thighs. He takes your hands and guides you closer. “Knee here.” He cups the back of your knee and you jerk, not realizing how much it tickles. He grins. 

“Sorry.” You mumble but he just shakes his head. 

“Tickle spot noted.” He guides your knees, without touching them, to either side of his waist. You can feel him under you, all solid and warm. 

Fuck. 

He guides your hands to his broad shoulders, letting you lean forward over him. “Use me.” He says softly. “Let me be your leverage.” His big hands slide down your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and you rock forward slowly, cautiously. He hums approvingly and you squeeze your eyes shut against the sight of him under you. Your brother’s best friend, the guy who’s supposed to be off limits. 

His hands blaze a burning trail up your thighs, over your hips, under the back of your shirt where he unclasps your bra with practiced ease. You feel the release of your breasts and it triggers something primal in you. You rock a little more purposefully now. He pulls the bra straps off your shoulders, freeing it from under your shirt. He presses the lacy fabric to his nose for a second and hums before tossing it over the back of your couch. His blue eyes stay trained on your face as he pulls on your hair tie, freeing your hair so it spills down around your shoulders. 

“That’s it.” He mumbles, brushing some back behind your ear. “So fucking pretty.” His thumb strokes along the corner of your mouth and your lips separate, breathing heavily. He slips his thumb inside and you wrap your lips around it, sucking and rubbing it with your tongue, lost in delirium as you grind on his stomach. His free hand, that isn’t in your mouth, slides up the front of your shirt, cupping your breast. He brushes over your sensitive nipple, teasing it into a point, drawing a desperate moan from you. 

“Oh fuck.” He exhales, watching you. He guides you forward, arching your back slightly and you hit a whole different angle on your clit. You whimper, grinding faster, chasing your pleasure. “Yeah, sweetheart. Come on.” He urges. He pulls his thumb out of your mouth and tugs your shirt over your head, tossing it with your bra. 

He guides you up higher, getting you better purchase, and also allowing him to mouth at your nipples. His hands squeeze your hips,your ass, urging you faster. The friction is just right, his hot mouth and tongue are perfect on your nipples and you’re about to cum. Your rhythm falters and your body locks up as an orgasm floods your system. You gasp out his name, unable to move as it grips you. 

He kisses up your chest, sliding you down to his thighs and supporting you. “Look what a mess you’ve made. So pretty when you cum.” He praises, touching the slick covering his abs. “Such a good fucking girl.” He licks it off his fingers, watching you. 

You hold his gaze for a second before pulling his hand away and kissing him deeply. Tongue and teeth and lips clashing as you knock his hat off his head. Your fingers curl into his silky hair, pulling on it as you kiss him with a fierce desperation. He moans, rocking his hips up against yours. 

In one swift motion, he stands up and flips you over onto your back on the couch. “Later, I’m gonna eat you until you can’t fucking stand. But right now, I’m so goddamn hard it hurts.” He mutters, shoving down his jeans. His cock is rising up to meet you and you reach for it, mesmerized by the thick vein spiraling up to the tip. He grabs your hand, stopping you. He strokes it once and kneels between your thighs. 

He pauses, the crown resting at your entrance. “Can I?” He asks softly and you nod, banding your legs around his hips. 

“I’m gonna cry if you don’t.” You promise. He pushes toward and your head falls back as he enters you. The stretch. Oh fuck, oh fuck. 

You whimper, holding onto his straining biceps. He’s struggling to go slow so he doesn’t hurt you, you can tell that much. His arms are shaking, his eyes are slightly unfocused on your face. His hair, no longer trapped by his old ball cap, is hanging in his pretty face. The gold chain is hanging down, swinging gently as he slides in slowly. 

“Trying not to-“ he mutters and you roll your hips, begging him to fill you. 

“Gimme.” You plead, brushing his hair back. “Gimme. I can take it.” You promise. 

He hesitates for a long second before thrusting in completely. You arch off the couch, mouth falling open as you cum instantly around him. Fuck, he feels so amazing inside you, so thick, so full, so deep. A throaty whine escapes you but that’s nothing compared to the feral growl he releases. Your fluttering walls are clinging to his every inch, stroking and kissing along his shaft. 

“Baby,” he groans, shifting his arms. You wrap your thighs around him, urging him on. He pulls out and thrusts back in, picking up speed and depth as he pounds into you. Your name is a ghost on his pretty lips as he falls into you. He drops to his elbows, nearly all his weight on you now. 

“Benny,” you moan in his ear and he fucks you faster. You roll your hips, pulling on his shaft and grinding him against your clit. Whimpers fall from your lips as you wind your arms around his broad shoulders. “Harder.” You beg and he looks down at you, his pupils blown wide, needy. His hand grips your thigh, holding you in place as he starts to rut inside you, his thrusts becoming shorter and harder as he reaches deeper into your velvety tightness. 

“So good.” He moans in your ear. “So fucking good, baby.” He praises, burying his face in your neck. The chain drapes against your throat, cool in the humidity of the room. You flex your wall around him, urging him deeper. 

Your third orgasm is fast approaching, it’s going to hit you like a wall, you can feel it. He’s fucking you so good. He bites along your neck, finding the perfect spot and you practically levitate into his chest as you cum again. You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down your ass. Your body locks up around his as you cum, vision dimming, legs shaking, whimpers and gasps escaping. 

“Oh fuck, baby girl. That’s it. Cum on my cock.” He praises, pressing you tight into the couch. “Gripping me so good.” He moans, fucking into you faster. “Gimme one more. I’m so close. Want you to cum again.” He pleads. “Wanna feel you cum on me again.” He kisses up your neck, making his way to your lips as he pounds you stupid into your couch. 

Your whimpers are growing in volume, you’re so sensitive now, so close. He never really gave you a chance to come down. He kisses you desperately, messily. Your nails dig into his back and he growls possessively. 

“Please, please.” He whispers and you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. “Where? Baby, where can I cum?” He rushes, his breath skating across your cheek.

“I-inside.” You mumble. 

He reaches between your bodies and strums your clit rapidly. You cry out, cumming once more and gripping his shaft so tightly he can barely move. He thrusts in deep and unleashes a torrent of cum, burying his face in your neck. You can feel him sucking a mark, but you’re too fucked out to care. He finishes pumping inside you, rocking slightly before stilling. He looks down at you softly, brushing your hair back. He kisses you softly, his lips tender against yours now. 

Now what?

@everythingisoverrated @musings-of-a-rose

[dragon-creates]

Royally Screwed!

Prince Jax of the Kingdom of Laphria was…well, he was a jackass. He kept pranking the servants, threw the wildest parties within the castle and always kept trying to run away from his duties. King Kaleb and his wise Queen Quinn were at their limit, hoping for something to turn their son’s head around. Their prayers were answered when a traveling circus visits the kingdom, including a talented jester named Pomni. Jax’s breath was taken the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew that no matter what, he had to have her. It would be a lot easier though if she didn’t hate his guts.

Read on AO3

1/2/3/4/5

we have a new fic!!! this might not be part 2 of 5+1 but think of this as a little treat until that comes out in the new year. truth be told, this au already had a life of its own before I started writing, artiesrump on twitter came up with the idea on one of their posts and then allhailthequeenuwu continued with making some awesome concept art for it. one thing led to another and I started planning this out during writing the last chapter of 5+1 and here's the first chapter! I really hope you guys enjoy this cause this au is gonna be a lot of fun!

Nothing You Can Take From Me

The kingdom of Laphria.

It was a place of peace and prosperity. Home to beautiful rolling fields and meadows, a sanctuary to its residents and weary travellers and cherished each time the sun and moon would rise, for it was the sign that another beautiful day was upon them. This land was ruled none other than the beloved King Kaleb and his wife Queen Quinn. A couple with the kindest hearts that anyone had ever seen, and I love so strong that it could be seen from oceans away.

Truly, Laphria was perfect…apart from-

“That’s it! I’ve had it!”

The bedroom door of the king and queen’s bedroom slammed open, with the two-chess piece’s rubbing sleep from their bleary eyes as a maid with rubber skin and pink hair stormed in, covered from head to toe in confetti and leftover pudding.

“Oh dear,” once they king’s eyes were focused, he realised the state that the maid was in, “Another party?”

“Yes!” she snapped as a few other servants came in behind her, all covered in the same mess as she was. “How did he make it worse than the last one?! There were spiders in the chandeliers your majesty. Spiders! What kind of party does the prince need that involves spiders?!”

“Well that’s definitely new,” the queen mumbled, not pleased with this at all. She turned to her husband, “I believe we owe our son a chat darling.”

“Agreed,” he nodded, “That boy needs his head screwed tighter before someone knocks it off if he’s behaving this recklessly.”

They threw their comforters off, with the servants and two stationed guards following behind as the couple trekked to their son’s room.

When they arrived at the prince’s room, they had hoped to find a lazy lump of purple fur within the blankets and sheets of the bed. However it seemed that Prince had different ideas. The sheets were still there, only they were tied together into a rope and thrown out his open window.

“Oh no,” the queen groaned as her husband facepalmed. “Not again.”

From a small distance they could hear the boyish and cheerful whoops of a young man along with the stomping hoofs of a horse running further away from the castle.

“Guards!” the king spoke up, alerting the two next to him. “Gather a search party and go after him, I’ll save the chat for when he gets back.”

“Yes your highness,” the wooden toy soldiers chorused, saluting their king before running off.

The king groaned, “Why did the lord make our son so difficult?”

.

.

.

The air, oh just smell that fresh air! That party last night was the perfect distraction for him to get out of there. And the spiders! That was so much better than the centipede trick he pulled last time! And now he was out of the castle, away from his parents pestering him and the servants eyeing his every move. No lessons, no fencing and best of all, no responsibilities. Just him and his freedom.

He eyed the sun rising from across the field, he had been out for a good few hours, making the guards lose their trail of him was the highlight of his morning. Anyway, now was not the time to think about that. He was free to do anything he wanted right now, what should be the first thing he could do? There was the bakery down the street, he could snatch a few loafs down there. Or maybe he could go the seamstress down the street and see if her daughter wanted to ‘spend some time with him' and maybe buy a new dress for his sweet mother. Wait, no, he had a better idea! The firework shop down the street, those would be perfect to create a little show for everyone! Oh this was going to be perfect!

He took off again, lifting up the hood of his cloak over his head to conceal his identity. Once he arrived in the village, he took his horse into a spare stable and kept him there before making his way to the shop. He was able to sneak in and out thanks to his combat training (and he begrudgingly left a few coins behind because damn his lovely mother and her teachings of morals).

He ran to the village centre, laying the fireworks in an upwards motion before striking a match and running into the nearest alleyway to watch the show go down.

3

2

1

Boom!

The confused and petrified screams of the villagers were nothing but melodies in his ears. He couldn’t hold back his cackles as some ducked for cover at the loud boom, others had dropped their shopping and started sobbing, some even jumped at least ten feet into the air and landed on the rooftops. An obnoxiously loud snicker escaped him when a spare firework failed to soar into the sky like its siblings, instead it chased someone around until he fell to the ground and it smashed into a shop window. Truly, this was the best morning he had in a while.

His fun was ruined however when the familiar sound of clanking armour and huffs of horses made him snap out of his trance. The castle guards were coming, great. And that little light show was definitely a massive help for them to find him. Only Prince Jax of Laphria could pull off a stunt like that. He didn’t want to be caught, not yet anyway. He wanted to have a little bit more fun before going back to his gilded cage. There was a pile of crates and an old market stall with the cover still on top, if he could climb on those and blend into the shadows of the walls, he could be able to hide until the guards leave. Hehe, Jax you are an absolute genius he smugly thought to himself.

And so he did just that, he climbed on the crates, jumped on the old stall and grabbed the edge of the roof while resting his feet on the side of the wall. Hidden within the shadows and from the guards. He was truly too smart for his own good. But just before he could properly pat himself on the back, there was a tiny meow above him.

He looked up, and right next to his hand gripping the roof was a small brown tabby kitten.

Mew

“Uh, hi?” The prince gave him an awkward wave.

Mew!

Jack cringed, that was a little bit too loud. The last thing he needed was to be outed to the guards by a tiny round ball of fluff. “Keep it down, would ya!” he hissed at the kitten, “You’re gonna blow my cover!”

The kitten tilted his small head, turning to look at the guards and then back to Jax. The prince sighed in relief when he kept quiet, returning his focus to the soldiers when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He whipped his head back round to see to kitten pulling at the cuff of the fabric with its teeth. “Hey, hey! Quit it!” he tried to shove him away with his free hand, but the feline had a tight grip and refused to let go.

Jax bit his lip, trying to keep an eye of the search party. There was no way he was going to get found out because of a stupid stray cat!

He let out a yelp when he felt a paw swipe at his hand, along with a hint of claws. Now the kitten thought his hand was a toy, and that this little interaction of theirs was now a game. “No, no!” Jax pushed him away again, but the feline just kept coming back with his claws now fully out and leaving little scars on the prince’s hand. “Piss off!”

The kitten pulled back, Jax swore he was literally glaring at him. He gulped when the kitten leaned back on his haunches and wiggled his tail as though he were a little lion hunting his prey. “Don’t you dare,” Jax growled.

…mew

The feline wasn’t put off by the empty threat however, launching himself onto Jax’s hand, biting and scratching as though his hand were nothing more than a scratch post. “AAAHHH YOU LITTLE-” he cried out in pain as he let go the ledge to escape the attack on his fingers, unfortunately that action sent him face first in the pile of crates – which were filled to the brim with grapes, soiling his clothes.

The guards turned at the sudden noise, only to see their prince covered in purple stains and looking as if he emerged from the greatest battle of his life.

Jax lifted himself from the squashed fruit underneath him, cringing as he felt the fruit’s liquid seeped from his clothes and onto his fur. He dramatically groaned when the guards crowded him. “So, did you have fun with your wild goose chase?” he remarked at the soldiers glared at him.

.

.

.

Jax practically stomped throughout the castle as the guards guided him to the throne room, there was no doubt that his parents wanted to have some colourful words with him about the recent stunts he pulled.

The doors of the throne opened, revealing a disgruntled King Kaleb and a disappointed Queen Quinn. Jax winced, he could tell that he was in for an earful.

“You! Young man,” Kaleb got off from his throne and descended down the steps below it, “You are restricted to the castle grounds. Until I give my word, you are forbidden to step one foot out of these walls unless you have my permission.”

“Or what?” Jax rolled his eyes as he plopped onto the last step, slouching in an un-princely manner. “Are you gonna force me to play a metaphorical game of chess and how ‘my attitude is a disgrace to the people of our kingdom and it somehow represents the chess pieces’ of the game and all that other shit.”

“Don’t mock me Jax,” Kaleb grumbled, making his way closer to his son. “You are the crown prince and heir to Laphria, you must treat your role with respect!”  

Jax turned suddenly, glaring at his father, “It’s also my life and I should have the freedom to do what I want with it.”

The king was about to say another word, a slight growl leaving his throat before he was stopped by his wife’s voice.

“Kabel, please sit down. The last thing we need is for you to have a stroke.” Quinn stood and made her way towards the two men. “Jax, you were born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations. You are an important figure to our people, one day the crown will go to you. You have to know what it truly means to be leader. But first, you have to accept the responsibility that comes with it, not just as a royal, but as one of your people.”

Jax sighed, he could deal with his father giving him lectures (it was rather funny seeing the old chess piece get riled up), but his mother was an entirely different story. If the rest of the world was cold stone, Quinn was a diamond. His father was a good man, kind and caring to his son while teaching him everything to know about the kingdom’s past present and future, but Quinn was always there to hold him whenever he was sad, help him with a hard lesson when he got to frustrated if he didn’t know the answer, taught him the values of human kindness even if the world kept spitting it back out. Just seeing that look on her face, knowing he did the complete opposite of what she taught him, it felt as though he were carrying the worst plague known to man.

“Forgive me mother, but shouldn’t I be the one to carry out how I choose to live my life than be restricted with what I’m expected to pick and choose?” he stood, facing Quinn. “And have you ever considered that perhaps I’m not worthy to be given the crown?”

“No, I don’t,” Quinn admitted. “A normal person who wasn’t worthy would not be trying so hard to fail.”

Shit. His mother always read him like an open book.  “And what are you gonna do to stop me?” he retorted, trying to reel himself back in order to save whatever natural charm he had left.

“I will simply deny you the crown and…um, live forever!” Kaleb declared, his wife shaking her head at his ridiculous outburst.

“Finally,” Jax cheered, clapping his hands. “Thank you father. Now there’s something we can both agree on.”

Kaleb grumbled under his breath as his sudden mistake, letting his pride getting in the way of his logic were incidents that happened on the odd occasion, but it still meant that they did happen despite the rareness of it. Surprise, surprise, it was caused by his son. “You’re dismissed,” Kaleb waved his hand, “Take this time to at least attempt to reflect back on your actions.”

“No can do,” Jax bowed mockingly before the guards came back in to escort him to his room.

Once their son was gone and the doors were shut did Quinn turn back to her husband, “Seriously? Telling our son – who is doing everything in his path to avoid responsibility – that you’re going to not make him king was your best idea?”

“I know, I know,” Kaleb sighed. “Our son has a talent for making me lose my head sometimes. I just…I’m at a loss here Queenie, I don’t know what to do.”

She took his hands in her when he said his nickname for her, a silent calling for help. “Kinger,” She replied with the nickname she had for him in return, “I know how you’re feeling. It’s hard seeing him act like this, but he can only be helped if he allows someone to do so. But I have a feeling that something will strike that boy with realisation soon. He’s a good man and will be a great leader someday. We just need to let him find his sense of self first.”

“I hope you’re right,” Kinger sighed, “I think Jax is making me age faster than I should be.”

Queenie let out a small laugh, “Don’t worry, you’re still that same young man I met by the lake at midnight.”

“I still remember it like it was yesterday,” he said, letting the memory play behind his eyes. “You looked so beautiful, and I kept getting tongue-tied trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“It was adorable though,” she cooed. “Just wait until Jax gets his head turned, that will certainly be fun to watch.”

“Huh, now there’s an interesting thought,” Kinger chuckled. “Our son tripping over his feet over a girl or boy.”

“Perhaps that will knock some sense into him,” Queenie suggested as she rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“Only time will tell my dear,” Kinger patted her hand, “Only time will tell.”

.

.

.

Jax slammed his door, throwing back the curtains of his canopy bed before dumping himself face first onto his bed, letting out a load groan into his pillow. He was almost free, almost able to do anything he wanted without fear of consequences. If it wasn’t for that puny little stray he wouldn’t have gotten caught. That’s it, he now deemed cats as the worst animal in the world.

And what his mother said?! ‘Trying too hard to fail?’ Oh please, why couldn’t his parents except that he just wasn��t fit to be king? It would save them all both stress and time. There were plenty of other worthy noble figures in the kingdom, just toss them the crown and everything will be fine! He flipped over in his bed and onto his back, rubbing his hands over his face. He may be stubborn, but he would be damned if he didn’t inherit it from his parents.

He jumped when he heard a faint scratching sound at the doors of his balcony. He turned slowly to see a small blob at the bottom of the door window. He got up from his bed, going over and opened the doors. His stomach sank, sitting right in front of him was the stupid kitten that got him into this mess. “Oh no!” he glared at the tiny feline, “Absolutely not! You can’t come here after backstabbing me like that.”

Mew

The kitten ignored him and pattered inside, roaming around the room and taking in his surroundings. “Hey, get out!” Jax chased after him and picked the cat up by the scruff of his neck. “Don’t walk around as if you own the place!”

Mew

“Oh I get it,” Jax scowled at him, “You think you can act all cute and get whatever you want after what you just did. Well guess what fleabag? That shit won’t work on me.”

Mew

The kitten gently pressed a paw on Jax’s cheek, no claws and no malice. Just a small kitten reaching out for some affection. A lonely tiny creature…scared a hungry…despite how feral it seemed at first, all it really wanted was warmth for another being. Jax shook his head, “Nope! You are not cute,” he pointed his finger to the feline, “You hear me you are not-”

The kitten gave his finger a little lick.

Mew

Jack exhaled slowly, “I’m not gonna win this one, aren’t I?” The kitten purred against his finger, with the rabbit giving him a scratch behind his ears. “Alright fine. If you stay here at least you won’t be terrorising anyone else. I’ll accept ‘responsibility’ or whatever it was mother said. See, I’m able to do that.”

Mew

Jax shifted the kitten, sliding an arm under his chest and held him with his hand. “You’re gonna need a name first. If you’re staying here, the staff is gonna need to know what to call you,” he took a good look at the brown tabby, thinking for a moment what the best name would be for a small little feline like this. “Hhmm. How about…Motley?” The kitten only titled its head in response, “Yup, you look like a Motley.”

Motley let out a meow, purring as the prince scratched behind his ear again. Jax grimaced as he noticed dirt under the kitten’s fur, he must’ve been on the streets for some time if that amount of dirt had built up. “But first, a bath,” he declared, “The last thing we need are your paws trailing mud everywhere. Just be lucky my mother didn’t catch you, the last time I did that was the first time I believed the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was about to become real.”

Motley went silent at that, seeming as he were choosing not to test if that were true or not with the queen. “Come on,” Jax carried him to the bathroom, “Time for a bath.”

The kitten let out a protesting mewl at that, Jax rolling his eyes. To be fair, he showed some resistance to baths when he was younger as well so he couldn’t fault Motley for that.

He stepped into the marbled bathroom and moved to the porcelain tub, turning on the water and testing the temperature before putting in the plug and plopping Motley down. The kitten was not happy at all with the sudden change, already hissing and clawing at Jax’s hands, trying to get out of the bathtub as the rabbit grimaced at the new scratches.

Yup, cats were just delightful.

.

.

.

Despite the gruelling process, he finally managed to get Motley clean. The kitten was glaring at him the whole time he was getting dried off. Honestly, Jax felt a little smug about it. Revenge for selling me out you little shit.

Although, there was something quite heartwarming about all of this once the kitten was dry. He lay on the mattress, nuzzling the soft blankets underneath him as he though it were the first time he rested on a bed. Fully trusting someone with his safety after a life on the streets.

Jax felt a smile on his lips, before shaking it off and picked up Motley under his chest again, “Come on. You can sleep later, let’s get some food in you first before my parents send the cavalry to my room just so I get to dinner.”

Mew

Motley seemed to like the sound of that, climbing up Jax’s arms and curled himself around the prince’s neck, with the rabbit automatically giving his head a scratch. “Yeah, yeah. Little attention whore.”

The cat didn’t seem to take notice of the prince’s comment, rubbing his face against the prince’s cheek (Jax was desperately trying not to coo at the adorableness of it all).

He made his way down the halls, not caring for the servants who stared at the new little creature round his shoulders. All he wanted was food and then sleep, maybe plan another escape plan if he had the energy for it. Finally, he made it to the dining room, his parents already waiting for him while chatting excitedly in hushed voices.

Now that intrigued Jax, not by much but still, “What are you two going on about?”

His parents turned at the sound of his voice, suddenly gawking at him as though he had grown a third head. “Uh…Jax?” Queenie spoke.

“What?” Jax placed a hand on his hip.

Kinger raised a finger to the feline, “Who is…um, your friend?”

Jax switched his gaze to Motley, the kitten staring at the two monarchs with wide eyes, “Oh him? This is Motley, he’s the worst thing in the world but I guess he’s my cat now. You don’t mind if he sticks around, would ya?”

“I-” Queenie was genuinely at a loss for words. Yes Jax had brought back to the castle much odder things – and people – but never once did she expect that he would bring back a kitten. “Well, he does look very sweet.”

“Here,” he lifted the cat off his neck and placed him down in his mother’s lap, “You can take him for a while, I need a minute to get away from the stench of kitten breath.”

The queen was about to say something to Jax, before Motley rubbed his head against her hand, silently requesting for her to pet him. “Oh,” Queenie cooed, unable to resist the small creature’s sweet eyes peering up at her as she ran her fingers down his back, “Well aren’t you adorable.”

“Adorably annoying,” Jax muttered under his breath.

“And yet you still chose to keep him,” Kinger retorted. He didn’t have a mouth, but if he did Jax swore he would definitely be smirking at him right now.

Jax scoffed at his father, pulling up a chair and immediately slumping once he sat down. The chef’s brought in the dishes and lifted up the lids to start serving the royal family their food consisting of mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, freshly baked bread and a whole chicken - along with a little bowl of food for Motley once they heard about the surprise guest. As soon and Jax tucked into his meal, he turned back to his mother, “So, what were you two giggling about before I walked in?”

Queenie perked up at the mention, “I’m so glad you asked! There’s a travelling circus going around and is coming to visit our kingdom! There are lion tamers, tightrope walkers, even a contortionist!”

“Sound the same as every other circus,” Jax muttered as he played with his food.

“Your mother has been really excited for this,” Said Kinger, “Apparently they have a star performer that everyone is obsessed with.”

“Oh please,” Jax stabbed his fork into a carrot, “What could be so special about them that they’ve got everyone tripping over themselves for?”

“Word says that she has a special talent with magic tricks, so good that no one can tell how she pulled it off,” Queenie explained, “That and she has a beautiful singing voice.”

“So she can sing a little and show someone their spade card, so what?” Jax said, “Anyone will put a label on someone to promote something because they know it’s gonna attract an audience. Like dangling a toy in front of a cat…no offense Motley.”

Mew

“Regardless,” Queenie sighed, “As the royal family, we’ve agreed to watch them on opening night when they arrive. And you’re coming to Jax, no exceptions.”

“You’re kidding?” Jax groaned, slamming his fork onto his plate at his mother’s words.

“Please Jax,” Queenie’s eyes softened towards him, “I understand the apprehension, but this is something that I really want to do with us all together. Not just as an expectation of us as royals to see an event, but to spend time as a family to see a fun show. Please sweetheart, for me?”

Jax’s heart twisted at the look on his mother’s face. He sighed, he didn’t like putting on all this stress for his parents, for his mother took it harder the most. She saw so much good in him, so much faith in him in both as a prince and son. His father still expected more from him, but his mother – no matter how many times he was an absolute prick to her – always saw the best in Jax, somehow knowing that deep down there was that light that needed to be reached. It was annoying…but that was what he loved about his mother. He should at least to this for her, she’s been through enough as it was.

“Fine,” Jax sighed, picking up his cutlery today, “For you mother. But I’m bringing Motley too, he has to suffer with me.”

Mew

“I think I would enjoy his company very much,” Queenie nodded, petting the kitten, “After all, he’s part of the family now.”

“Oh, great,” Jax muttered, sipping some water.

“You’re the one who brought him home,” Kinger teased in a sing-song voice.

The prince scowled, muttering, “Shut up Dad.”

.

.

.

The theatre was packed. Anyone who was anyone in the kingdom had all been invited to see the travelling circus, but more so, they were curious about the star performer that no one could stop talking about. The whole theatre was built as a circle, for the audience to watch while a door on the far side of the circular ring was connected to what people theorised to be the tent.

The royal family had a special booth reserved only for them to oversee the show from the best angle, wearing their best attire and crowns. Jax slouched in his chair, ignoring his father’s bickering for him to sit up. He really didn’t want to be here, but his mother looked so excited. At least he brought Motley so that he was forced to indulge in the prince’s misery. Although he wouldn’t bet on the cat being that upset, after all he was well fed, groomed and sat on Jax’s lap to watch an amazing show.

“You’ll see Jax,” Queenie whispered to him amongst the chatter, “There’s gonna be something in this show that’ll leave you breathless.”

“If that happens, I’ll eat my crown,” he muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Kinger retorted, stifling his laughter at Jax’s annoyed expression.

The lights dimmed, spotlight centring the stage as the crowds went silent. Jax scoffed, everyone got excited way too easily over a room doing dark. He ran his hand over Motley’s head, the kitten’s eyes entranced by the bright colours. Honestly he should have expected it from him, he was a cat after all, you could swing a necklace in front of him and he would think it was the best thing in the world.

The drums rolled, and from the back of the set-up tent, a clown ran out onto stage. “Welcome one and all to our circus!” he bellowed, the crowd applauding madly in response. Jax clapped slowly in an unimpressed manner while Kinger and Queenie gave out a cheer. “My name is Kaufmo and I will both your ringmaster and clown for this evening! We have a very special line up for all you lovely folks! From lions! To tightropes! And our own special star that I know you’ve all been waiting for!”

The crowd went rapid at that sentence. Jax just scoffed, everyone was such a sheep these days.

“But I won’t keep you waiting any longer, let’s get right to the sho-woah!” Kaufmo suddenly slipped on a conveniently placed banana peel before landing face first into the ground, making the crowd erupt into laughter.

Really? Jax thought to himself, this is what gets people going?

“Oh, sorry ladies and gentlemen,” Kaufmo brushed himself off with a goofy smile, “But I’m sure we can move on from here.” As if timed perfectly, a bucket of water fell on his head, soaking him to the brim.

Jax sighed at the audience overexcitement of the shenanigans. “Everyone knows that this is rehearsed, right?” he whispered to his mother, “This is so cliché!”

“Oh shush,” Queenie waved a hand at him dismissively, “It’s funny Jax. Just have fun.”

Jax feel back into his seat, trying to seek an accomplice in Motley, but he seemed to be as addicted to this as the rest of the crowd.

The clown continued with that as his act, tripping and falling while telling jokes left and right at the same time. Jax found the whole thing pretentious, why was everyone acting like they hadn’t seen a clown before? Were they really that desperate for entertainment?

As soon as he finished with his act, a ragdoll with red hair wandered on stage, waving and smiling sweetly at the audience while carrying a couple of hoops over her shoulder. Kaufmo patted her on the shoulder as she set up the hoops before he went back into the exit of the tent. It seemed that the ragdoll seemed to be caught up with her setting up, for two lions prowled out with her back turned.

The crowd murmured as they stalked closer, sitting back on their haunches, ready to pounce. Everyone’s cries to the Ragdoll fell on deaf ears as she continued to hum and prepare. Suddenly, the lions pounced! The crowd screamed! The ragdoll whipped round, and raised both of her hands, placing it each on the lions’ noses respectively. The audience gasped. She moved, the lions going backwards with her as she led them to the corner of the ring.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out two strips of meat. “Stay,” she commanded, the lions obeying her word.

From the top of the ring, there were jumps set up, each one of them a different height and climbing up like a staircase on each side until meeting at the same height in the middle. Both lions went on each side of the steps, jumping and climbing until they reached the top. With a snap of a finger, the first lion jumped down, standing on all fours in a circle while the second lion jumped on its back, balancing there for a few seconds as the audience applauded.

But it wasn’t over yet, the second lion jumped down and both trotted and separated themselves to the two set up rings respectively. With another snap of her finger, both lions jumped through at the same time. Jax put his elbow on the arm of his throne, resting his cheek in his palm. Woah, animals jumping, so revolutionary. The ragdoll disappeared off stage for a moment, returning with a flaming torch as the audience murmured. Everyone faces dropped once they realised what the flame was for. Without sparing a moment, she lit both the rings on fire.

She snapped her finger, the lions ran, without a moment of hesitation, they jumped.

The crowds held their breathes, some even shutting their eyes out of fear.

Both lions came out unscathed and the fire went out. There was a beat, before the audience cheered and whistled and the ragdoll and lions bowed before going back off stage.

“That was incredible!” Queenie exclaimed, “I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it!”

“Imagine the courage one must have for that!” Kinger agreed, “That young woman was fearless!”

Jax shook his head at his parents’ antics, “Oh come on! No one actually believed that they were gonna go on fire! There wouldn’t even be a circus at this point if that happened!”

“Jax, you have to admit that her skills were impressive,” Kinger pointed out.

“You’re just easily amused,” the prince huffed. Motley was kneading Jax’s trousers beneath his paws, copying how the lions kneaded the ground each time before they performed a trick. Jax patted his head, “Sorry to break it to ya buddy, but you’re only gonna be the size of a foot when you’re older. Might as well give up on those lion dreams of yours.”

Mew

Someone new came on, a pink and yellow amalgamation of parts who looked as though they were going to fall apart any minute. Their routine was simple enough, twisting and stretching their limbs in the most unbelievably flexible ways. The audience oo’ed and aa’ed at how far he could take it without even showing a wince on her face. 

“He’s cheating,” Jax muttered, “He can literally detach himself, it doesn’t count.”

This time it was Motley’s turn to shush him, swiping his paw at the prince’s shirt with a mewl. Jax pulled a face at the kitten but quieted down anyway.

Once the contortionist went back off stage, the lights started to go upwards, revealing a tightrope with two performers at the top. The first seemed to be a woman with the head of a Moon on her shoulders, while the other was a man around her age who shared the appearance of the Sun. Nodding to the Sun, the Moon began her routine. Tip toeing across the rope, seeming as though to fall off – to the audience’s collective shock – before breaking out into a pirouette, as though there wasn’t a fifty-foot drop beneath her.

The Sun started to do the same, spinning on one foot before both of them stopped at the same time. Both of them ran to the middle, taking one another’s hand before producing canes from their sides. The two began to perform a little tap dance on the rope, waving their canes around without a care in the world with grins on their faces. While the audience was losing their mind, Jax inspected his nails to make sure there wasn’t any dirt in them, far less interested than everyone else.

The Sun and Moon ran off back to the ends of each side of the rope, pulling out a unicycle and mounted them before cycling back onto the rope. They went back and forth, pulling out a few small balls from their waistcoats and began to juggle them,

Jax was sure he had read about this scene in a book before, nothing new here.

Finally, the duo finished and bowed for their cheers before running back off again.

The next act seemed to have the entire circus cast out, including a new member, a body of ribbons and a mask on her face. A few tables and chairs were set up as well as some sort of makeshift kitchen area. The ribbon girl seemed to be playing some sort of waitress, stumbling and shaking in an exaggerated manner. Jax groaned, realising that this was going to be a slapstick act, just great.

The act was predictable, a couple played by the ragdoll and clown were on a date, the sun and moon were bystanders and the contortionist was the owner of the pretend restaurant. The ‘waitress’ was attempting to get a meal out to the ‘couple’, but was constantly messing up. Whether it was tripping over a ‘customer’s’ foot, absentmindedly eating the food herself, even forgetting which table to bring the food to. Each mistake would lead her back to the start of her journey. It all escalated when she tripped one more time, bumping into the clown and making him get on one knee, as though he were proposing. The act ended with the ‘couple’ getting together, the other ‘customers’ being happy for them, even the ‘owner’ was happy for them and the ribbon lady keeping her fake job.

The crowd clapped again once the act was completed, Jax however felt as though he was about to fall asleep. At least there was only one act left and he would be down with this fiasco.

“Just you wait Jax,” Queenie leaned over to him, “I’ve heard far and wide that this star performer has entranced every audience she’s come across.”

“I for one am very excited,” Kinger said, “She must be very talented if she’s the most talked about.”

“As long as it’s the last act, then I’m fine,” Jax sank further in his chairs, Motley now sitting straight instead as he prepared himself for the final act.

What he didn’t know was said star performer was currently hiding within the shadow of the ceiling, taking a breath to calm her trembling nerves before she had to go on. She looked to Kaufmo within the tent, behind the scenes on the ground. He looked up to her, mouthing to her if she was okay. She nodded and closed her eyes, she could so this.

The lights dimmed one more time, as two red aerial silks fell from the roof. Jax’s eyes wondered to the top, a small trapeze swing between the two silks. He could barely see what was up there, there was a shape of a body but it wasn’t even visible. Why would anyone get excited over someone they couldn’t see-

-You can't take my past

You can't take my history

His ears perked. A voice rang out into the empty quiet like a melodic bell.

You could take my Pa

But his name's a mystery

It had to be the most beautiful thing he ever heard in his life. Soft and delicate yet commanded everyone’s attention, including his.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

The body stood, grabbing both silks in her hands and startled twirling down, the strum of a guitar started playing and the audience clapped along with the upbeat tempo. Once the lights shone on her, Jax stiffened, his voice caught in his throat and his heart started throbbing madly in his chest.

The woman holding and sitting on the silks was a jester, with short and shiny brown hair, mesmerising red and blue eyes, along with milky skin that seemed to be smooth to the touch. She wore a regular jester hat, only the bells were replaced with two gold spheres and wore a glittering red and yellow leotard with long sleeves instead of a usual get up he’d come to expect from that line of work.

And her voice, of her voice. How it charmed him, like a river, both calming yet ready to be powerful when needed. His lips began to quirk into a smile as his foot involuntarily tapped along with the music.

You can't take my charm!

You can't take my humour

You can't take my wealth

Cause it's just a rumour!

Putting her body weight into one of the silks, she let go of the other one and started to swing round the ring, putting out her hand to the audience as they tried to reach her. Once the silk slowed, she used her other hand to grab it and twirled upside down as she kept singing.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

She lifted herself up, twisting the ribbon until she was in a sitting position one knee up to her chest and her other leg pointed out.

Thinking you're so fine

Thinking you can have mine

Thinking you're in control

Thinking you'll change me

Maybe rearrange me

Think again if that's your goal!

She uncurled the silk, twirling back down to the ground in a graceful manner until her feet hit the ground and she faced the crowd. The audience went wild, shaking one another in their seats as the jester continued to dance. Jax found himself cheering along as well.

Queenie took a moment to look at her son, bewildered by the fact that he began to enjoy himself. Sure the act was amazing, but there was something else about him. His posture became more relaxed, his smile seemed to be genuinely happy and free of malice, and his eyes were locked in and focused on the jester…wait a minute. She looked back to the jester and then back at Jax before letting out a gasp of realisation.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” Kinger asked, worry lacing in tone for his wife.

“Nothing, nothing my dear,” she reassured him, “I think our son is in love.”

The jester stopped for a moment, bringing her bare feet together before lifting a hand again. She waved it around her head, a navy night blue mist appearing from it. Just like lightening, she vanished!

The crowd and Jax gasped, whipping their heads round to find where she could have gone.

Cause you can't take my sass

You can't take my talking

They followed her voice and found her in the right corner of the ring, continued her song with her harmonic voice. She waved her hand and disappeared again. This time, appearing in the royal family’s booth. Both Queenie and Kinger exclaimed in surprise and delight.

The jester made her way towards Jax, reaching out to him. His pulse thundered in his ears and heat began to rise to his cheeks. To his shock, she pulled her crown over his eyes and disappeared again, making Jax snap up and push his crown back as he tried to look for her again.

You can kiss my ass!

Then keep on walking

She was back in the middle of the ring, strutting as if nothing has happened. She waved her hand one more time, making the silks levitate on their own, surrounded by the blue mist as they neared her.

… Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

As they travelled slowly, the red silks slowly faded into the same colour as her mist, the crowd awing at the trick. Jax noticed her leotard and hat doing the same, the yellow and red disappearing, replacing it with a diamond-sequined deep blue with spaghetti straps instead.

No sir, nothing you can take from me is worth dirt

Take it cause I give it free, it won't hurt

She grabbed the silks again and lifted herself, twirling them around her until she was sitting on them like a swing.

… Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

No nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

The music quickened as she climbed up the silks again, Jax’s eyes following her every move, too entranced to look away. Both she and the music got faster, climbing and climbing and climbing until she grabbed and pulled herself back onto the trapeze swing, saluted the audience – and with one more wave of her hand, sparks erupted from her place, dazzling the audience. Once they had faded, the crowd looked back. She was gone, as if she was never there in the first place with the silks returning to their original red colour.

There was a beat.

The audience stood, cheers and screams ripping from their throats as a thunder of applause ripped through the crowd. Jax couldn’t stand due to Motley in his lap, but he was still just as loud. Motley meanwhile was looking at him, titling his head from the prince’s reaction to the jester. It intrigued the little kitten to say the least.

The entire cast ran out, including the jester, giving one final bow as the crowds cheered louder before disappearing back into the tent.

The lights went back on as everyone began to murmur and whisper to one another about how amazing the show was. Jax was left awestruck, frozen in his chair, unable to process the complete and utter dazzlement that was the singing jester.

“I take it my son has a crown he has to eat now,” Kinger chuckled, brushing his robe a little bit.

Jax didn’t reply, still stuck in his own head.

“Jax, are you alright?” Queenie asked, getting a bit worried.

“That jester…” he breathed.

Oh, now Queenie understood, her suspicions being confirmed. “I see,” she nodded slowly, “I take it you like her?”

Jax turned his head so fast that he nearly got whiplash. “Like her?” he questioned his mother, “She’s incredible! Her voice! Did you hear her voice?! It’s not like anything that I’ve heard, and the fact that she can sing while doing all that in the air! And her magic tricks! Oh mother, she was amazing!”

He caught himself when he saw both his mother and father raising both their brows at him. He decided to save himself further embarrassment, he already knew that they would tease him about this enough as it is. An idea went off in his head. The circus had a while before they went back to whatever inn they were staying at to rest, perhaps he could pay the little jester a visit before he left.

“You guys hold onto Motley for a while,” he stood, picking up the kitten as he mewled while being placed in his mother’s arms. “I’m gonna go give that jester my congratulations.”

“Uh, Jax?” Queenie said, but Jax was already running out of the booth, “Jax!”

“Oh dear,” Kinger muttered, “I believe we made a mistake.”

.

.

.

Pomni sighed with relief, her blue leotard reverting back to its yellow and red while talking off her hat as soon as she was back behind the scenes, everyone hugging one another and giving each other high fives.

“You guys did great!” Kaufmo grinned, “I’m so impressed of how are far you’ve all have come!”

“Not bad for opening night,” Zooble placed a hand on his hip, “Although I think most of it is owed to Gangle and her creative skit idea.” She gave the woman a wink, the ribboned woman blushing at her partner.

“Zooble,” she giggled as they pulled her close, “You were great too.”

“Being out there has never made me feel so alive,” Moon let out a relaxed breath, recalling the euphoria of being on the tightrope.

“I agree!” Sun beamed, practically jumping up and down with joy, “It was spectacular, amazing, show-stopping, fantastic, spectacular- oops, I said that already, didn’t I?” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

“Don’t worry about it Sun,” Ragatha patted his shoulder, using her other hand to pet her lions. “However I can’t deny that Pomni stole the show, as she always does.”

Pomni gave her a shy smile, shuffling her feet a bit, “Stop, you’ll make me flustered.”

“Because its true!” Ragatha exclaimed, the rest of the cast nodding their heads in agreement, “You’re a stable of this show!”

“A true star, and trust me, I know a lot about them,” Moon gave her an amused look.

“You were like a million stars at once!” Sun cried, “Though if you think about it, stars are also suns, so you were like a million suns! Wow!”

“I mean, I agree…I still liked Gangle the best though,” Zooble murmured.

“I always love hearing you sing Pomni,” Gangle took her hand, “You have the voice of an angel.”

Kaufmo came up and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I for one couldn’t be prouder.” He gave it a reassuring squeeze, with Pomni placing her hand on his.

“Thanks Kaufmo,” she smiled back.

“How are you doing kiddo?” he asked softly, “I saw you shaking up there before you went on. Did you have those nightmares again?”

Pomni paled. It was quite jarring how easily he could read her. Kaufmo had been her rock since day one after all, he knew better than anyone when she had hard nights. She opened her mouth to answer when someone barged into the room.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the cast of the show,” Prince Jax jeered, making himself at home, “Don’t mind me, I just wanted to thank you guys for an awesome show. Especially you little lady.” He winked at Pomni.

Pomni choked, why on earth was the prince waltzing in here unannounced? Didn’t he have princely duties to attend to? And why the hell was he calling her little lady?!

“Oh well, that’s very kind of you-” Gangle began to walk up to him but was pushed aside by him and she fell right into Zooble’s arms.

“Hey!” Zooble snarled, checking Gangle for any injuries. “What’s your problem?!”

“Excuse me,” Ragatha placed a hand on her hip, “You can’t just do that to one of our own. Not when we travelled all the way here to put on a show for you and your kingdom!”

“Look doll-face, I didn’t ask for you to be here,” he sneered, before turning his gaze back to Pomni. “Not that I’m complaining though.”

Pomni scoffed, gaping as she looked to Moon and Sun, the former of the duo looking furious. “I have the right mind to drag you out by the ears of you don’t apologize to Gangle right now,” Moon hissed.

Sun gulped, hiding behind his twin sister.

Ragatha’s lions had even began to have enough of his presence, growling and baring their teeth at him as he backed away slowly.

“Now, now,” he tsked, “We don’t want the crown prince of Laphria to go back out with his handsome face all mangled, now do we?”

Everyone’s faces fell. He was right, one wrong move and they’d all be imprisoned.

“All I want is to speak to your little jester here, is that such a crime?” he pouted.

They all turned to Pomni, awaiting her decision on what to do with this situation. “Kiddo, Pomni, you don’t have to do anything he tells you to do,” Kaufmo reassured her.

“Don’t worry Pa,” she said, a little nickname that she saved just for him, “I got this.”

Kaufmo’s eyes flickered to Jax, glaring at him before going back to Pomni. He smiled at her and let her continue.

Pomni walked to Jax, the prince was already acting smug about it too. “So, Prince Jax of Laphria,” she raised a brow at him, “In the flesh.”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he grinned, it seemed to be starting off well. She looks even lovelier without her hat on.

“Oh I’ve heard of you,” Pomni confirmed, “You’ve got quite the reputation it seems.”

“All good things I bet,” The prince smirked, looming over her.

Pomni didn’t move a muscle, the height difference didn’t affect her for what she was going to say next. “Actually,” she began. “I heard you’re a no-good son of a bitch who spends his days disrespecting those who sacrifice their mornings and nights just to serve whatever little thing he wants.”

Jax’s eyes widened, this was not how he thought this was going to go.

“Awful to the people who not only rule this kingdom but spent every day of their lives raising you just for you to turn out to be a jerk,” Pomni continued to list it off.

Jax was going to admit it, that one stung a little.

“You embarrass those you deem beneath you and refuse to take responsibility when their reputation is ruined because of your words and actions!” she scowled.

Okay yeah, he’ll admit it, he took that one a little too far.

“You cause destruction and mayhem in your own home with the worst of the upper class because you feel like it!” another flaw she pointed out. “And what was your most recent one? Let me think. Oh yeah, you set off fireworks and nearly set fire to a village you’re going to rule over one day!”

Jax rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Word really got round fast about that, huh?

“So excuse me your royal highness, but I would like nothing for you to leave this tent and never step ten feet toward me again,” she gave him an exaggerated bow, still glaring at him. “Now if you don’t mind, leave!”

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be faced with the glares of a protective clown, a ragdoll with a knife, a Moon holding a noose and two lions looking at their next meal. Yup time for him to leave.

Pomni sighed with relief the moment he left. She didn’t think she would have the courage to stand up to someone as important as the prince like that, but she was glad she did. Everyone patted her on the back, impressed with her accomplishment as well, including Kaufmo. “Great job kiddo,” He murmured.

Pomni smiled warmly, “Thanks Pa.”

.

.

.

Jax walked out the tent, meeting the dissatisfied looks on his parent’s faces. “Well, we did try to warn you,” Queenie muttered, handing him back Motley, “But I’m afraid this is one of those cases where your heart is bigger than your brain.”

Motley mewled in seemingly agreement with the queen, rubbing his head against Jax’s palm so he could pet him.

“Let’s head back home,” said Kinger, taking Queenie’s hand lovingly before whispering in her ear. “I have a feeling that star performer won’t be leaving his head anytime soon.”

Queenie nodded subtly in agreement and the royal family headed out of the theatre.

During the carriage ride back, while petting Motley, Jax couldn’t stop thinking about that jester…no, Pomni was her name. That was what the clown said, right? The bite of her words, the ice within her eyes, the sharpness of her tone. All of it was meant to push him away…it was a good thing that Jax was determined and stupid.

He would show her that she wasn’t what she said he was! He’s a prince, he could do anything! He was going to shower her in the most lavish gifts known to man. Whether it be gowns, food, new equipment for her shows, anything! He was going to show her that he was worthy of her time.

In fact, he sure that be the end of the week, she would be fawning at his feet. Jax chuckled, he was way too good at this.

Motley could only watch in despair as his new master set himself up for failure.

Song Credit: Nothing You Can Take From Me by Rachel Zegler.

[ofsappho]

treehouse 🔞 (also available on ao3)

tags: smut, pregnancy, 🔞, mental illness, trauma, eventual happy ending

Dream of the Endless | Lord Morpheus x reader

It's a common story; you meet a tall, dark, and handsome man outside of a club and take him home that night. When he leaves, you don't think you'll ever see him again.

Now, what's less common is what happens a couple of weeks later, when you realize you're pregnant. But you only know his name, if that even is his real name: "Dream".

What exactly are you going to do now?

(title from the song Treehouse by Alex G) (originally posted on AO3)

You don’t usually do this kind of thing.

‘Thing’ here refers to venturing out of your apartment, alone, dressed to the nines and in search of trouble. The kind of thing that every other twenty-something you know does on a regular basis.

But it’s always been too hard for you to gather up the energy for such an effort. Depression can do that.

Tonight, though, you’re trying, even though you’re definitely the only person in this club without anyone else to accompany them.

The party feels like something out of that new Batman movie; bass reverberating through the soles of your sneakers and smoke curling through the air, heavy-fingered and tinged blood red from the colored lights.

You had choked down a panic attack on the walk from the train to the club, only making it down those few blocks of sidewalk by reminding yourself that you can leave whenever it stops being fun, over and over.

The ice in your drink is fully melted and in the whole hour you’ve wandered around, you’ve really only spoken to the very pretty bartender. She complimented your dress, and you would’ve complimented her eyes in return, but you’re aware that she was only being polite and doing her job.

Without much fanfare, you abandon your glass filled halfway with water and halfway with vodka sour next to all the other discarded glasses. This has officially stopped being fun, though whether or not it was ever fun to begin with is up for debate, and you take that as your cue to dip.

Once you’re outside, the cool air a pleasant balm on your sweat-sticky cheeks, you quickly snag a cigarette out of the carton in your purse. A raven watches you struggle to light it.

He’s a curious bird, calm as any human, and you win the staring contest between the two of you. When he cocks his head at the sound of your laughter, you swear he can practically understand you. You keep giggling as you crouch down and offer your shitty lighter to the raven. “Well? Are you gonna help me or just stand there making fun?”

“Matthew has always had a sense of humor.” At the sound of someone’s accented voice, as rich and deep as whiskey, you stand and turn to see a man looking at you and your new corvus buddy.

Oh fuck, he’s beautiful.

You go with beautiful as handsome is definitely the wrong word. The stranger is beautiful in a way that doesn’t quite seem humanly possible, like it breaks your brain a little bit to look at his brilliant eyes, to take in his high, sweeping cheekbones and plush mouth.

“The raven’s name is Matthew?”

“Yes.” You’re tempted to ask him if he, like, has a podcast or maybe records audiobooks. If he doesn’t, he should. He’d do super well.

Seriously. It’s catnip to you. The sound unfurls from his throat with a touch of rasp, but still purer and more resonant than any other voice you can recall.

You’re reminded of what priests say the voice of God sounds like. This is a very weird thing to come to mind when a random guy talks, especially as you aren’t really religious like that. He definitely could get a whole lot of people to do as he wished just by asking, you think. A God needs to have that quality. Or a cult leader.

You swallow down the heat inside that stokes hotter with every moment his bright gaze clings to your face, to the curve of your lips. His structured black coat fits across his proud shoulders well; it looks expensive and he appears to have an awfully good tailor.

You decide to go along with the bit. Bits are fun and talking to this man is exactly the kind of shenanigan you were hoping to stumble across. “That’s a good name. Did you give him that?”

He smiles knowingly. “He named himself.”

That’s funny. It makes sense; ravens are as clever as any person, the Internet says, so someone looking at one of those birds and feeling as though it named itself isn’t totally out of left field.

You hope he elaborates on that, but the stranger doesn’t seem inclined to help you out there. But you don’t want the silence to settle much longer. It might drive him away, and you’d like him to stick around longer. Maybe get his number. “Well, I hope he knows it suits him. Hey. You think you could light this for me? You saw me try it with Matthew, but I don’t think he has enough claws to make it work.” You hold out the lighter with shaky fingers, nervousness fighting desire in your veins.

When he takes it from you, his skin brushes yours. It’s almost electric. “…of course.”

You’ve never felt attracted to someone so fast. The wanting hits you like an avalanche; a dream of his palms on your hips and red marks on your skin from his teeth pours through your mind.

The man cups his other hand over the flame as you lean in, at last lighting your neglected smoke. Your lungs fill with him, not tobacco smoke. His scent, sharp and comforting all at once, makes you just as woozy, just as lightheaded as the nicotine does. “Thank you, I, um, appreciate it. Do you have a name, too?”

“You may call me Dream.”

Your best friend would appreciate his excellent grammar. Clever of him to use ‘might’; if you were a Fae trying to get his real name, he’s answered in exactly the way someone trying to not get fairy abducted should. These are the kinds of tidbits that amuse you, even if you won’t ever use them. So you’ve spent your life hoarding random information like this, just for funsies.

“Your choice of words there is noted, ‘Dream’.” Your smile warms your voice and he steps in a little closer, close enough that you have to tilt your head up a bit to maintain eye contact. Like staring at an eclipse. That’s bad for your eyesight, you tell yourself. But you can’t look away.

His lashes are as black as his thick, undone hair, framing a lidded and darkening gaze.“Were you just leaving?”

Oh fuck yeah. “Um, yeah, not really my scene. Kinda boring, at least for me. It’s a shame; I was hoping to actually make getting out of the house tonight worth it, but. No dice.” You haven’t done this game in quite awhile, but you still remember the rules. A bit of a tease at the end, just to imply that you’re interested. What can you do? He makes you bold, bolder than normal. You want him to want you.

“Pity.” A pause stretches between you and you feel your heart sink into your stomach, your anxiety revving up again. What if he just walks away and leaves you here, embarrassed and in your head for believing someone like you could attract someone like him?

“Do you still wish to make getting out of the house tonight worth it?” Your words sound out of place in his mouth, too modern.

What’s that joke about how some actors in period dramas clearly look like they know what an iPhone is? Dream is apparently the opposite of that. He seems entirely above petty concerns like lamenting the lack of decent hookups.

The discordance has you stifling a giggle.

You dream some more about his hand tangling in your hair and his body covering yours, his knee between your thighs. And the fire, deep in your belly, burns brighter and brighter. “Depends on what we’re doing.”

When Dream smiles, it’s beautiful and uncanny. He looks like a predator, and you’ve stumbled right where he wants you. It’s hot. You’re good with that. “You know what.”

“…yes.”

You can’t really remember how you got back to your apartment - Dream has been far too busy pressing his mouth to yours, devouring the heady, saliva-slick kisses you’re freely offering up, for you to pay attention to something like that.

As soon as you’ve made it inside the front door, he pins you against the wall to wrap an elegant, long-fingered hand in your hair, tipping your face towards him so he can nip at your bottom lip with sharp teeth. “You are… exquisite,” He murmurs against your lips, pupils blown so large that his eyes look like galaxies with an endless black hole in the center, pulling you towards his gravity.

You grow wetter at the sound of the lust roughening up the edges of his polished voice, at the awe in his words. “Please,” you moan as he bites aching marks into the column of your throat that are sure to bruise purple and red tomorrow. You want them to bruise, you want to have something left behind after this hookup ends, proof he was there.

You’re not even sure how to articulate what exactly you’re begging for. That’s beyond what your mind is capable of right now, as his hand fists in your hair and tightens until it’s the perfect amount of slightly painful and you’re gasping, desperate for more. Your hands have twisted into the collar of his coat this whole time and you don’t let go. The feeling of the cloth rounds you and more than anything, you don’t want him to back away.

Dream seems to understand your pleading - he lathes the bruises with his tongue and you would do anything he wanted, as long as he would do that between your thighs. His other hand trails against the swell of your breast, gently caressing them through your thin dress. You arch into his touch, his fingers rolling over your nipple, plucking at it before palming your chest once more.

You’re greedy - you want even more. With a frustrated groan, you shove your dress off about as fast as you’re capable of doing so, getting tangled in the sleeves in your enthusiasm. A whine escapes your chest - seriously?

You’re so horny at this point that any fumbling delay like this might cause a meltdown, especially in front of someone as hot as Dream, but he simply smiles affectionately and untangles you, soothing your ruffled feathers with his calm, steady touch. The dress flutters to the ground in a heap. “Be still,” He admonishes you, before sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of your body bared to him. “Fuck.”

Your underwear is soaked through and it clings to your thighs as you shift, desperately trying to relieve the yearning need inside.

Dream seems transfixed by you, utterly enraptured by your full breasts and the dip of your waist, the soft curves of your hips. Those pretty, blinding eyes almost glow in the dim light of your living room lamp and as his fingers leave your hair to trail down your neck, a line down your clavicle, his touch relishing in the softness of your skin, you’ve never felt more desired.

Then, he meets your round, hungry eyes. “Do you want this?”

“Yes. Yes. Of course,” You pant. He’s moving too slow for you; you yank him towards you again, your mouth vicious as you kiss him. Dream’s still fully clothed, which seems a bit unfair, but there’s something about the intentional vulnerability of standing before him mostly-naked that you secretly enjoy. He has the upper hand at the moment, and you’re actually pretty okay with that.

Impatience and a bratty touch of mischief briefly win out over the urge to please him, to revel in his affections, so you quickly slip away from his grasp and flee towards your bedroom, with Dream hot on your trail.

Before you make it all the way to your bed, still unmade from earlier today, he catches you by your waist, wrapping his hand around your jaw tight enough to leave fingerprints so he can expose the side of your neck to the burn of his lips.

You fully expect him to toss you down on the bed and have his way with you, but Dream lowers you down carefully with one hand cradling the back of your head and his eyes fixed on your face, possession and lust blossoming in his terrifyingly beautiful smile

You need him.

He peels off his clothes quickly. Underneath all those dark, rich fabrics, his lean, muscle-bound torso gleams in the moonlight like a marble statue of some old god. You’ve always loved Ancient Greece and their perfectly-sculpted effigies.

Then Dream is on you again. He sinks to his knees before you and his position doesn’t feel like submission, not when you’ve fully surrendered to him. His mouth trails down your body and his hands can’t stop touching you; you gasp as you writhe in his steady embrace holding you still.

Your underwear gets discarded in some corner of your room - you’ll look for it later, when your hookup leaves.

He hooks one of your legs on his shoulder and buries his head between your thighs. He’s like, really good at eating you out. You’re sort of shocked, because you haven’t had great experiences with this, but his tongue traces your clit and the overwhelming pleasure from Dream’s touch forces a desperate cry out of you.

He chuckles against your pussy, now teasing intentionally as he traces around your clit, around your dripping core, before returning to his task. Dream carefully sinks two fingers inside of you and his groan at how your cunt flutters around his fingers vibrates through you. You’re so full already, the pressure pinching a little, and he’s careful, so careful when he starts to move in and out of you, sucking at your clit to soothe the ache from the stretch.

You’re moaning, and you can’t even breathe, can’t catch your breath; it’s so fucking good, and you feel the beginning of an orgasm coiling inside you already.

Any pain completely dissipates as Dream’s mouth indulges you, tastes you like he wants nothing more than to eat you out for the rest of time. Your body instinctively twitches away, hips trying to escape his touch. The pleasure burns through your body like a wildfire, and the intensity is almost too much, especially when the pads of his fingers find a sensitive spot inside your trembling, hypersensitive cunt. “Fuck, Dream, fuck-“

When he pulls away from you, his mouth is slick with your arousal, and you watch him lick it from his lips. “Did I not say to be still?” He speaks quietly, evenly, a contrast to the needy whines you make at the loss of contact.

But his fingers don’t let up. Dream keeps moving them inside of you, and it’s hard to find the capacity to answer him when he intentionally brushes against that delicate, tender place.

You’d do anything for him to keep going. Anything. “No, you did, I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry.”

He does nothing for a moment; even his fingers pause as you spasm around him. And just when you think he’s going to completely withdraw and punish you for not following his instructions, he absolves you. “Good girl.”

Dream braces his other arm against your hips so you can’t escape how he pleasures you, and even as your body jerks when he enters you again, picking up the pace and fucking you open, you can’t move away. He replaces his tongue on your clit with his thumb, pressing even circles into your sensitive flesh so he can watch your face twisted in ecstasy and the brilliant flush crawling up your tits towards your throat with hungry, star-bright eyes.

Dream needs you undone before him just much as you want him to take you apart.

You’re so wet that it’s obscene, his fingers dripping with you, and the sound your pussy makes with every movement is embarrassingly loud, almost as loud as your moans.

Your impending orgasm sparks back to life as he patiently builds you back up, your thighs trembling and eyes rolling at a particularly forceful thrust. When he fits another finger inside your soaked core, your eyes roll back in your head as you cry out in surprise. It’s too good, the pain and pleasure bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Fuck, you can feel it, right there, feel it threatening to pull you under like a riptide, and each movement pushes the breath out of your lungs. It takes a minute to realize Dream is matching his thumb teasing your clit with his careful, gentle pushes against that spot inside your pussy. He knows your body so well for someone you’ve never met before, and in his capable, clever hands, you’re so close to coming apart.

He’s still looking at you, completely enraptured by your back arching off the end and your eyes hazy with lust. Dream takes your clit into his mouth once more, tongue flicking against you as he chases your orgasm.

“Thank you, oh my god, I’m gonna come,” You beg helplessly, writhing and squirming against him, your body wound up so tight that it hurts.

“That’s it. Give it to me.”

He commands, and you obey, coming around his fingers with a drawn-out cry. You’re coming, and it eats you alive, the fall flooding through you like lightning. Dream helps you through it, bearing down, so your pussy trembles through your orgasm on his firm, clever hands. You feel yourself gush around him, and he groans at the feeling of it, slowing his fingers pumping in and out of you without stopping altogether, eking out every last bit of your pleasure that he can.

And Dream instinctively knows when you’re done, when you can’t give him any more, so he finally withdraws and licks his fingers clean of your cum.

You can’t totally feel your legs, and you need to finally catch your breath, but you look at him, pleased and benevolent and still desirous of you, and you know you can go another round.

You prop yourself up on shaky arms to meet his filthy, messy kiss; the taste of your salty musk blooms on your tongue, and he wraps his arms around your sweaty, heated body. “Will you fuck me? Please? I want it,” You ask when you break the kiss. You’re a quick study, and Dream seems to like it when you tell him that you want him.

His eyes are almost completely black when he answers you. “Yes.” Dream’s tone is menacing and dark, and fuck, if you don’t drip on your blankets at the promise in his voice.

You like submitting to him, like how he handles your body like it’s his, and before he can push you down, you flip over and sink down on your knees, back arched and face pressed into the bed. “Like this?” You realize you’re asking for permission, which is something maybe you should’ve negotiated beforehand.

But you shouldn’t have worried; he’s very much on the same page. “Yes.”

You wait for him to shift behind you. You can’t see Dream, and the anticipation sends a thrill down your spine. You’re exposed and vulnerable in this position, and he could do anything.

His hands caress your ass, your thighs, your curves, lingering indulgently. It’s as if you’re precious, as if you’re the most holy thing he’s ever touched.

After pressing a single, sweet kiss on the base of your spine, Dream kneels behind you, and you can feel his hips against your ass. He seems intent on soothing the tension out of you, patiently stroking your heated skin until you melt at his touch.

And when you’re soft and pliant, he pushes in.

He’s pretty big, big enough that even after three fingers and an orgasm, you still feel a pinch as he thrusts deeper. You involuntarily make a soft noise of discomfort; you don’t want him to think you’re not enjoying this, to draw away from you. But Dream takes his time, gently opening you up on his dick as you start to relax.

When he finally seats himself inside you, that slight noise of discomfort turns into a deep, contented sigh. You’re so full, your pussy stretched comfortably to its limits, and you go slack against the sheets. Your cum from your last orgasm is soon matched by a new well of arousal from the feeling of his dick in you, heavy and hard and incredible.

And when he starts moving, your pillow muffles your loud moans. He fucks you slowly at first, mindful of how tight you are. It’s so caring, and it works; you enjoy the leisurely build-up much more. Before long, you’re aching for everything else he can give you.

He doesn’t have you entirely out of your mind yet, so you slot your hips back against his to meet his thrusts. And when you clench particularly hard around his cock, Dream also groans. “Alright,” he says with a hint of amusement. “You can have it.”

He fucks you in earnest now, one hand fisted in your hair and holding you down as he moves in you faster and faster, tears forming in your eyes from how ridiculously good it feels. With each push, he takes pieces of your higher functioning abilities with him, so all that’s left is your body responding to his touches, your mind drunk on his dick. Dream is addictive and so completely good at this; he hits just the right angle that torments you with pleasure.

“Holy shit, fuck, that feels-“ you cut yourself off with a long moan as his dick presses against your most sensitive places. But Dream is fed up with the pillow muffling your sounds. He wants to hear them, wants you to scream and moan and cry out as much as you want, and he draws you up off the bed by your hair as he keeps pounding into you.

Your shaky arms barely support you, but you manage.

Dream keeps moving as he hisses into your ear. You can barely focus on what he’s saying, not when he’s stretching you out with each furious push and forcing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. “I need to hear you. You’ll let me hear you,” He promises before biting at your throat, sucking in another mark on your skin where you’ll struggle to conceal it.

“Yes, yes, yes,” You chant. Anything. Anything he wants.

Dream keeps hold of your hair to arch your spine in such a way that every time he enters you, his cock thrusts against that tender bit inside, and your cunt spasms around him.

He wants to hear you. And you let him. Wailing with every brutal thrust, eyes rolling back in your head. God, you don’t want this to end, but you’re not sure you can take much more; he’s already maxed you to your limits with how good Dream can make you feel at once. You can hear his deep grunts as you start fucking yourself back on his dick.

Your clit aches at the lack of contact, and he gently lets you slump against the bed once more so he can slip his hand around your hips and gently play with the sensitive nub.

Your orgasm is back with a vengeance. You edge towards it so quickly that it takes you by surprise, encouraged and beckoned by his fingers moving on your clit in tandem with his cock ruining you. You keep waiting and waiting to go over the edge before realizing that Dream is gatekeeping you from it, cleverly changing up how he fucks you to stave off your orgasm. To torture you. If you were capable of thought, you’d tell Dream he’s being cruel and beg him to let you come.

But you’re cock-drunk and boneless under him, so you take what he gives you with a pained, longing moan. No more pushing back against him, no more pleading. You just lie there and take it, and there’s maybe some saliva dripping out of the corner of your slack mouth. Yikes -  hopefully, he doesn’t notice.

Dream can tell you’ve just about hit your limit. “Can I come inside you, sweet girl? Do you want me to?” You probably should’ve asked him about that before you started throwing down; maybe gotten out a condom or checked to see if he was clean.

But you’re on birth control, and really if he pulls out of you now, you think you might start crying for real. You want him to come inside you, to fill up your twitching cunt until he spills out of your spent body. Like. That’s hot as fuck. Suddenly, you need it as badly as you need to come.

“Yes, fuck, please.”

Dream begins fucking you in earnest again, and his fingers never let up between your legs. “Then I need you to come one more time. Do it for me.”

“I- I can’t-“

It’s just out of reach. Even though his cock feels incredible in you, even though your legs are quivering and tears run down your face from the pleasure he forces through your body, you can’t quite come. It’s driving you insane.

You get to the point where you stop making any noise at all, so twisted up in the sensations rushing through you that you don’t have the strength to do anything else besides tremble around him.

And then Dream tips you right over into it with a single, soft sentence, murmured into your ear. “I know you can.”

You come with a choked sound, blood rushing in your ears as you spill over around his dick. He rides you through it, fucking you through this orgasm that’s brutally wrecking you, that’s washed you clean of anything other than feeling Dream deep inside your quaking pussy.

He pounds into you once, then twice, before coming from the sensation of you fluttering around him. You feel his warmth fill you up inside, slick and silky. His cum spills a bit from your spent core when Dream finally pulls out.

He’s shaking, too, as he draws you into a tender embrace. You curl up into him on your side, body aching after it all. “You’re good at that. Like, really good.”

Dream smiles into your shoulder, where he has started pressing fond butterfly kisses into your sweaty, flushed skin. “And you are very good. You were very, very good for me, my dear.” You like being good for him. You have a praise kink in general, but being good for Dream somehow feels better, more meaningful, more special.

Just when you open your mouth to ask if he has any plans for the rest of the evening, he cuts you off with a voice undercut by regret and longing. “I cannot stay, unfortunately. My apologies; I don’t wish to leave you here so suddenly. But I have… to go.”

Oh.

You swallow down the quick flash of sadness.

You’re always a bit emotional after sex, and you like cuddling, but Dream doesn’t owe you any of that. He’s been nothing but polite and considerate, and you’ve just met him tonight. Even if you want him to stay, there’s no reason he should.

You know that the sadness and accompanying feelings of loss and inadequacy will soon build into something more substantial, messed up, and all-encompassing. And you’d rather not have Dream around when the dam breaks. He doesn’t have to do anything, and you have no right to make demands on his time.

You should get his phone number or something. But your phone is somewhere in the living room where you dropped your purse, and you really don’t feel like getting up.

Already your body is starting to crash now that the endorphins are gone, and you realize just how exhausted you are. A stroke of genius comes to mind. “It’s all good, don’t worry about it. You’ll leave your number for me? On the notepad by the door?”

“I- yes, I‘ll do that.” He looks at you for a long moment as if he wishes he could stay longer. Dream’s genuine remorse softens your heart. He’s a good guy, and it’s unfortunate that your time together had to be so short.

“I’ll see you around then,” You murmur quietly, asleep before you get to see him out.

[amberjazmyn]

dr spencer reid one-shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - instagram part two

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - none

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - a series of instagram posts from usersdrsreid and ynreid.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - i had so much fun writing the first part that i knew i had to do it again and just because i really love dr spencer reid

part one masterlist

- - - 

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ynreid what you don't see in the first photo is me laughing at spencer crying over the realisation that we now share the same last names 

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drsreidi knew i was gonna cry all day anyway love, so it's okay to laugh

derekmorgan i think we were all crying at one stage

drsreid derekmorgan apart from y.n lol, she didn't cry once derek and big props to her because i did at one stage think we had gotten her but, we never did

emilyprentiss this day was literally the best wedding i've ever attended omg

penelopegarcia hands down my favourite wedding in the world. congratulations you silly poms

aaronhotchner and i thought i had cried my tear ducts dry but nope

ashleyseaver omg you guys are so fucking cute! 

ellegreenway��lol, jj in the right-hand corner just screaming in joy 

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drsreid the reason why i cried the entire day wasn't that i was "losing my freedom as a single man" or anything else like those snarky comments i see. i cried the whole day because i had waited so long for today to arrive that when it did, i couldn't grasp the fact that i was finally marrying the girl of my dreams. 

i absolutely adore you mrs reid, more than words in any of the english or any other language dictionaries can explain. the reason why i cried all day was that i hadn't ever woken up as happy as i did this morning with the knowledge that i was going to be marrying my best friend. i cried all day because i got to fulfil the dream that your dad dreamt and made for you before he had the opportunity to see his gorgeous little girl get married to the love of her life. i cried all day because i didn't get to see my wife be walked down the aisle by her dad. i cried all day because we got to see aaronhotchner walk her down the aisle. i cried all day because finally got to vow my everlasting love to my soulmate. i cried all day because i finally got to fulfil my father-in-law's wish of marrying his little girl, just like he wanted me to do, that he had written down on his bucket list of "last things to do before i die". i love you so much mrs reid and i promise to love you every single day until i can no longer do it on earth. 

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ynreid it was a perfect day spence, even though daddy never got to be here physically <3

emilyprentiss best wedding ever!

aaronhotchner i'm forever grateful that i was able to hand y.n over to you, spencer. it was an honour and i'm so glad i got to honour her father and your father-in-law

penelopegarcia omg, i cried so hard when i realised that hotch was walking y.n down the aisle, my lord.

jenniferj bro, didn't think i'd tear up seeing hotch walk y.n down the aisle but, it did and then i couldn't stop crying.

davidrossi so glad i had the pleasure of officiating the ceremony. it was beautiful you two.

ellegreenway i'm so glad we got to be a part of it, spence.

ashleyseaver i'm still so frustrated that i ugly cried any time that the camera was in my direct eyeshot 

ynreid ashleyseaver you still looked fucking gorgeous dear daughter! thank you for being one of my bridesmaids <3 

liked by drsreid, aaronhotchner,derekmorgan and 456,781,90 others

ynreid did someone order a baby reid?

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drsreid yeah, i think i ordered it a few months ago. it still hasn't arrived yet

ynreid drsreid how rude, cannot believe it's taking this long!

aaronhotchner you guys just got married and already you're popping out children!

derekmorgan i think i just choked on my saliva holy crap what?!

penelopegarcia i've only just emotionally recovered from the wedding and now you're telling me you guys are pregnant?!

jenniferj and now i'm sobbing

liked by ynreid, emilyprentiss, penelopegarcia and 932,581,50 others

drsreid say hello to sage eleanor emily reid everybody.

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ynreid my two precious angels <3

emilyprentiss omg sage eleanor emily reid! only the cutest name ever!

penelopegarcia cutest goddaughter ever!

derekmorgan ok but like, who named sage?

drsreid derekmorgan y.n did actually, derek. sage was a traditional name in your family as was eleanor and then we wanted to honour one of you guys and we decided emily would be the perfect name. i cried instantly when she suggested we name our daughter after her grandpa's sister.

jenniferj best girl dad ever!

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ynreid spence, today is all about you and the amazing father you are to our little girl, sage eleanor emily. you love our daughter in ways that i could have only seen in dreams. you always make sure you give her all the attention in the world. you are sage's entire world and she is yours and it's plainly obvious. i am so grateful we get to parent our little pretty girl genius. i love you so much reid sr. 

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drsreid can you please stop making me cry bubs? i've been crying all day because of how loving you have been! i love you mrs reid

ynreid drsreid i love you more mr reid

aaronhotchner happy fathers day spencer <3

davidrossi happy father's day reid. sage is a beautiful girl, just like her beautiful parents

derekmorgan happy father's day pretty boy 

ashleyseaver happy father's day, spencer! sagey has gotten so big! 

liked by ynreid, emilyprentiss, aaronhotchner, derekmorgan, penelopegarcia and 876,912,34 others

drsreid happy mothers day mrs reid. you are the best mother to sage and we are so grateful to have you in our lives. it was almost magical to see the way your body changed during your pregnancy with our daughter. seeing you nurture her before and after she was born whilst still being a kick arse with the fbi always brings tears to my eyes and motivates me to be a better agent because you were born to be a natural mother and fbi agent and sage is the luckiest little girl in the world, just like i'm the luckiest husband in the world. sage eleanor emily and i love you every single day and every day is mother's day in this household!

View all 492,697,12 comments

ynreid i can see why you got me to cry today without even trying. it was payback for making you cry during our wedding, our entire pregnancy and when i named sage. touché mr reid, touché

drsreid ynreid i sincerely promise it was not as payback because it made me cry seeing you cry. it was not payback at all

emilyprentiss happy mother's day y.n. can't wait to see the reid fam tonight <3

ynreid emilyprentiss thank you em! spence and i can't either. sage is also very excited to see her godmother, it's the cutest thing <3

aaronhotchner happy mother's day my darling y.n <3

derekmorgan happy mother's day pretty girl <3

- - - 

imagining spencer as a girl dad is everything in my dreams and therefore imagining mgg as well being a girl dad is everything of my dreams. i'd love either of them to become girl dads!

ok ily bye xx

wc; 1651

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 7

Gloom Hands

This goes out to the way I cackled hysterically once seeing these things in TOTK, well done Zelda Team. They're a terrifying concept and I really feel exploring that could be fun, even if this prompt gave me a headache and a half.

Bit late today because we've been pelted by way too many storms/lightning and writing on mobile with lightning shaking your house is generally a bad idea, so I spent most of the time writing this and the Linktober prompt by hand, then transcribing it back onto mobile as soon as I could touch eletronics without the major risk of being zapped and picking a god and praying that my internet wouldn't be too funky so I could get it out on time. Short one again though because I still need to finish the Linktober prompt so it should come out later today or fully tomorrow, sorry folks.

Anyway, as always can be read as romantic or platonic, also Sage is here both because of the prompt and because the mental image of Wild Reader and Sage trauma bonding over the extremely twisted nature Gloom/the Malice have compared to just dark magic in general in LoZ was too funny to resist, if Nintendo won't talk about the many variations of Dark Magic in LOZ and how it affects any who come in contact with it then lord darn it I guess I'll just have to do it myself (or as much as I can without breaking out the companion essay to the Realm of Darkness and Realm of Light essay which I'm already having trouble digging out).

TW:

Technically graphic descriptions of decay, gore and eldritch horror, and Reader just not having a good day in general, don't recommend reading I'd you're highly squeamish.

When you’ve first met Sage, as the Chain temporarily dubbed him, you and Wild didn’t miss the way he looked so, so haunted. Emotions warring like a storm as he looked Wild over in a mix of disbelief and the weariness of a wounded fox getting ready to bite just to escape, at the Chain with such longing ache that made one’s heart break, the way the first time he met Wolfie he didn’t hesitate to throw himself atop the canine and hug him so close like he was trying to melt into the fur, and looking at you like he didn’t know wether to cry, scream or to shut down before he buried it under the mask you knew your resident Champion could use when trying so desperately to keep it together, hands shaky as he signed in a way that set your teeth on edge and felt like you had taken a dozen of ice arrows to the back, urgent, 'It’s not safe. None of you should be here. You need to leave. Now.'

Needless to say it was alarming, even as you all knew just how ferociously untamed his and Wild’s Hyrule could be, with being overrun with so, so many types of divinity through each crack, root, drop and flesh of it’s beings. From Hylia’s cold calculating care, the Three Goddesses blood, tears and breath of life, to the Malice’s howling self sustaining fury, The Lost Woods ever overgrowing freedom and even the remnants of the Fierce Deity’s hunt in Satori’s and Malaniya's savage display of cyclic eternity, it wasn’t any surprised that apart from the Traveler’s Hyrule it was the most aggressive one with the smorgasbord of energy so thick it made even you choke on it everytime you stepped foot in it. Beautiful and free in an echo of it’s once untamed state in the age of myth even before Sky.

Over time, you and the Chain learned how to adapt to it. To listen to the warnings Wild gave about the Guardians and about the remains of Malice in his monsters, of how the moon had been forever tainted with it and how, until Sheikah tech was fully repurposed it would be best to avoid the castle all together it was difficult but manageable, and even if Sage’s reaction was alarming (and he seemed even more troubled once Wild passed onto him from Sky that, while he wasn’t to come with them yet due to how things were apparently ‘fated’ to happen, there was no way you all could leave quite yet, distantly sticking by Wild and Twilight when possible and checking on everyone’s health when not doing so), you’d though it would be much the same for his own, and in parts you were right as the Chain had taken to the new environment like fishes to water even if it took some adjustments.

Though you were quickly proven wrong, and you could have laughed at your past self’s naivety.

It was meant to be a quick run to clear a black blooded monster camp, and while decently challenging, it was over quickly between the Chain getting more apt at fighting the enemy, Sage’s addition as the man fought as ruthlessly and ferociously as Wild, switching between deadly marksmanship and feral combat on a dime and the absence of the unnaturally inteligent black scales lizalfos, you’d rest and be on your way quickly. Or so you all thought.

Twilight had been the first to smell it, the bubbling of dark but distinctively twisted magic, even more so than Zant’s brand of madness. Wild the one to spot it, the rot black and blood crimson building up at the edges of camp from his vantage point but it was Sage who had tensed, eyes snapping to the faint glow the Master Sword emmited just as the sky darkned before his frantic, alarmed howl swept over the Chain, the sheer desperate, protective panic making all of your boys still, because Sage never used his voice unless he absolutely had to, “IT'S NOT OVER! MOVE!”

It was all the warning any of you got before reality twisted, straining, and then finally screaming, the heavens staining with crimson as if gutted open, the eyes of a sin against nature itself cutting through your relief and infecting your veins with terror. It shakes you to the core, freezing with indecisive flight or fight as you spotted the tide. Heart in your throat as you tried to comprehend what you saw.

“WHAT THE-“, Legend cursed, looking ashen as his grip on his fire rod tightened. Really, all of your heroes look disturbed and you can’t blame them.

“Get to high ground if you want to live! We can’t fight these things.”, snapped Sage, much more composed, but no less frenzied.

None of you hesitate to listen.

(There were some unspoken rules, when in Wild’s Hyrule the first time around. If there is something the Champion, the most reckless of all Links, wasn’t willing to fight head on or said wasn’t worth it, the best course of action was to listen, specially if the group was vulnerable.)

The hands screech, the tide rolling over the land with an reality splitting clamoring, a sound so filled with fury and so, so twisted it made your Hylian’s ears friends bleed and you lift a hand to your head in pain as Wild pulled you along, Sage leading the charge for the nearest cliff face as Warrior’s threw Wind over his shoulders and Twilight didn’t hesitate before doing the same to Four, the frost from Legend and bomb arrows from Time and Sky barely doing nothing to slow it’s relentless charge, merely taking from it a distorted, pitched crescendoing belt of pure rage and the overlaying of many tortured souls screaming all at once, of Hyrule rejecting this existence from the world but wounded at being unable to vanquish it, the sound it makes as it spreads and drags itself across the ground with uncanny speed with it’s many, many arms like something in between sludge and smacking, wet, rotten flesh.

Sage switches between shooting arrows to helping the other Links up the cliff and shooting at it’s eyes with the strongest bow he has,making as many arrow fusions on the spot as he dares. The others quickly taking as many ranged weapons from their sides to do the same. You help Hyrule up the clifface, while Wild swipes Cryonis over the field, climbing up himself, being hauled to Sage’s side.

You are almost there when one of the hands latch onto your ankle, and you go down with a scream, Sage all but dropping the bow in his hand in favor to latching onto your hand with snarl. And

It.

Is.

Agony.

(It burns through you like your very atoms have been set on fire,bthe hands take the opportunity to sink into you, long long unnatural fingers sinking into your flesh in a unhurried blanket of darkness, the Demon King’s will is roaring, growling with abyssal rage, if it cannot rule Hyrule, it would kill everything in it instead. Gloom sinks into your cells, raptures the membranes and makes the skin slip, frantically invading, you taste rotten flesh on the back of your throat and the scent of wither and ash choke you as it sinks into your flesh, marrow, breaks down your bones bit by bit, cracking and infecting and breaking down your very essence with the fury of a dead deity which refused die, decay on an accelerated rate all over where the hands clutched like a vice as the Links trunfo pull you out or attack it and it is painful and it’s excruciatingly wretched and make it STOPCEASEITHURTS-)

A well aimed Skyward Strike severs the connection, the pain stops and you fall into Sage, breathing hard and unevenly, grasping at him like a lifeline, clawing and counting at Wild’s arm on your other side like a wounded animal, your taste blood on your throat from the screams that were ripped from it, Hyrule falling to his knees on your side as healing magic washes over you like a shroud, trying to get you to respond.

Reality howls along with you, before all is silent.

It barely took a second.

“... Just what were those things?”, rasps Sky, horrified, a sentiment echoed through the Chain, though you can’t focus on it, trying not to choke on your own blood and to pull yourself together, Wild’s hand unconsciously settling on your pulse, shaking, and Sage’s tense tone cuts through the air as he scans the area. Still tense, tone hoarse.

“... The reason why I wanted you to leave.”

Later, much, much later, before you all leave, you learn they are called Gloom Hands.

It’s unanimously agreed that all you hold loathing for those abominations, even long after you’re forced to leave Sage.

He whispers something to Wild on the way out, hugging him close, trembling. Your Champion nods, you can’t make out the words, but you make sure to hold him as close as you can before you go, indulge him in checking for your pulse even long after you’re healed.

You hope he’ll be safe, he hopes that the next time you all see each other again, it’ll be under better circumstances.

[ourdramaqueen]

Fic Tag Game

I was tagged by @suchaladyy 🌸

20 questions:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

55, divided into fandoms as follows: Wednesday (TV 2022) (24) The Boys (TV 2019) (21) The Lord of the Rings (8) Sin City - All Media Types (1) Almost Human (TV) (1)

2. What’s your AO3 word count?

368,862

3. What fandoms do you write for?

See #1. Currently only Wednesday, though I do hope to get back into The Boys soon, and I still have some unpublished LotR WIPs that I'd like to actually finish sometime...

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Private Tutor

Kinktober Day 8: Shaving (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie)

Kinktober Day 2: See-through (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie)

Kinktober Day 18: Rough Sex (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie)

How do I passive-agressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I really appreciate when readers take the time to post a comment, so I always answer at least with a brief "thank you".

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Defintiely the whole Closer series (LotR, Frodo/Éomer) because it is mostly canon compliant, so it ends with Frodo going into the West. 😭My Rough Sex series (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie) is also fairly angsty by its nature as a series of mildly canon divergent gap filler fics following through the episodes of S1 and S2 (so far).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think pretty much anything apart from the above two series? Well, apart from the Struck by a Bolt series (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie), which has the potential to go either way.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't gotten outright hate, but certainly a few rude/entitled/"clearly hasn't read the tags or the end note despite me recommending to in the a/n at the beginning" comments.

9. Do you write smut? What kind?

LOL! All kinds. Soft, kinky (probably more kinky), some a bit dark. I seem to enjoy my ships a little fucked up.

10. Do you write cross-overs?

I don't have a proper crossover on my AO3 (see #12 for the reason why I specify it like this), though I'd love to write one sometime since I love reading them. The closest I've come is Kinktober Day 15: Monster Fucking (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie), which is heavily Beauty and the Beast inspired.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Little Brother was translating Private Tutor into Russian, though they haven't updated it in a while.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh yes! In fact, the first fics I posted online were cowritten with two (originally three, but one of then dropped out shortly after we'd started) friends, though under a different pen name and in a crossover of two small fandoms (with additional ones sneaking in here and there). I haven't written for that series in at least 15 years, though I still have fairly extensive notes for a trilogy of stories centered around my OC and I'd love to get back to that eventually.

But more recently, I've cowritten Line Without a Hook with erraticallyinspired (holyfudgemonkeys), who afaik isn't on Tumblr, and An Addams Family Guide to Kidnapping with @nonamemanga. I'm currently working on something with @suchaladyy, and who knows what and who will be next? It's a lot of fun!

13. What WIP would you like to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof! I only have unpublished WIPs which I'm not sure if I'll ever get to finish them. Mostly for LotR.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I really can't choose. Go look at my bookmarks on AO3, LOL!

15. What are your writing strengths?

Oh boy. Um. I think I've figured out quite well how to show character through smut, as well as to distinguish characters from one another by how they behave and talk.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Hmm... Sometimes I get bogged down in details, though I've gotten much better at catching myself now. Oh, paragraphs of really long sentences, but again, I've improved a lot there. 😆

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Absolutely, as long as I'm confident in the language or have someone who's a native/fluent speaker to help me with it.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Are we talking wrote for myself, or published? Because I started as a teenager in the 80s, writing your typical Mary Sue self-inserts starring my favorite celebs, like Nick Rhodes from Duran Duran, by hand on notepads...

19. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Nope, still can't choose, sorry!

20. What fic would you want to rewrite one day?

There's one story from my first cowriting experience I mentioned in #12 that I would dearly love to rewrite because the constant POV changes are driving me nuts when I read it now! I don't think there's anything that's currently on my AO3 that I feel the need to rewrite.

I don't know who's been tagged or not, so if you haven't been but want to participate, consider yourself tagged!

[beautifulgiants]

Alexander Skarsgård Is Back in Calvin Klein—and Better Than Ever

For the launch of Calvin Klein Studio, the actor opens up about his new campaign, sustainable shopping, and, yes, his outfits on Succession.

Source

It’s the end of August when we chat, but for Alexander Skarsgård, it’s Christmas. Well, in terms of work, at least. He dials in from London, where he’s about to head to a night shoot for Pillion, his upcoming “kinky gay biker movie,” as he describes it. They’re shooting a holiday scene tonight; in 30 minutes, Skarsgård will be biker gang leader Ray. Right now, though, he’s just Alexander, and he’s here to talk about his new Calvin Klein campaign.

More than a decade after Skarsgård’s first campaign with the brand, the 48-year-old Swedish actor is stepping into CK once again. (“Was it ten years ago now?” he asks. Actually, I tell him, I think it’s been eleven. “Oh my God. Oh my Lord,” he replies.) This time around, instead of being the dangerous, daring, stripped-back seducer, he’s a refined, sleek, magnetic pillar of energy, dancing around a lofty apartment to Harry Nilsson and getting dressed with ease, grace, and a whole lot of Calvin Klein Studio—the smart, elevated new line of basics from the brand.

“I’m incredibly honored and excited,” Skarsgård says. “I’d worked with Mert [Alas, campaign director and photographer] on something else years ago and had such a great time working with him as well. It’s very fun, and he works fast, so it’s a very energetic set, which fits me. It’s very fun and loose and really, really good energy, which I kind of fed off of in shooting the video.”

This is still Calvin Klein, but not quite as you know it. Sure, the brand’s iconic underwear and sexy vibe are still in place—see: shots of Skarsgård reclining in a chair or against a wall, shirt unbuttoned and gaze steadily on the camera—but for fall 2024, it’s with a new air of elegance and timelessness. It’s a smooth whiskey instead of an ice-cold beer, a freshly pressed suit that fits just right, a shirt so silky, you forget the word polyester exists.

The easy, versatile elegance is the sort that Skarsgård naturally gravitates toward; it has the same essence, he says, as the “sleek, classic” style he knows well. “Traditionally, Scandinavian style is kind of minimalistic, and I’d say very monochromatic and very understated, so I kind of grew up in that milieu,” he explains. “Calvin Klein is obviously not a Swedish brand, but it fits very well into that.”

But no matter how sleek, how cool, how refined an outfit is, every man, at some point in his life, comes to the same realization: If it’s not comfortable, it’s not going to work.

“I’m like a five-year-old when it comes to clothes,” Skarsgård says with a laugh. He tells me about an old, beautiful wool suit that hangs in his closet, haunting him. It fits great, and he loves how it looks, “but after five minutes, it’s itchy and it’s hot and I want to take it off.”

“I find it difficult to find something that you feel like you’ve dressed up in and you look sharp, but at the same time it’s comfortable enough for you to relax in, so you don’t feel like you can’t wait to take everything off,” he adds. To him, Calvin Klein Studio hits the nail on the head; even the slim-fit blazer and trousers have some stretch to them. “The material was like wearing a sweatsuit, basically.”

The only time he’s willing to step out of his literal comfort zone with clothes is when he’s working—and even then, he sometimes still finds himself in pieces from his own closet. When I remark that, of all his past roles, I’d most like to pilfer the outfits of Lukas Matsson, his unserious, freaky tech-billionaire character on Succession, I find out that I’m pretty much just asking to steal from Skarsgård’s wardrobe.

“In the end of season 3, when Logan and Roman go to Lukas’s villa, we were still trying to set the character and the tone of Lukas,” he reveals. “We hadn’t really nailed it down yet... and I showed up to set wearing what I ended up wearing on-camera, which was slacks, a T-shirt, and flip-flops. Those were all my personal pieces, because we wanted something to play as a contrast to the Roys, who wore super-expensive clothes and were very dressed up.”

Surely, every Succession fan knows and remembers the Roys’ understated, logo-less Loro Piana and Tom Ford looks. By the time the show ended, “quiet luxury” was seamlessly embedded in all our vocabularies. Matsson, on the other hand, was a walking advertisement for brands like Fjällräven and Needles, with logos and colors and textures all competing for the spotlight.

“I thought that’d be fun, to play a character who didn’t give a fuck and just wore slacks and flip-flops to a billion-dollar meeting,” Skarsgård says. “So I didn’t have to purchase that. Those outfits, they were already mine.”

With Skarsgård, avoiding excess is an ongoing trend. Even a lifestyle, if you will. He hosts the podcast How We Fix This, which highlights various ventures and practices aimed at sustainability, and he is clearly no stranger to the impact the fashion industry has on the environment. Instead of buying new clothes, he prefers to have a limited wardrobe with versatile options. Two suits, maybe three, tops—and to make the cut, they have to be comfortable, make him look good, and feel great.

“It’s not sustainable with fast fashion, where we’re incentivized to buy new pieces of clothing every single day and then throw them out and then buy new stuff,” he says. “I think it’s very important that when you go out to buy stuff, [you] buy stuff that you obviously love and you’re excited to come home and try on but [also] pieces that will last and sustain you. You want to build a relationship with those pieces, or at least I do. I love having stuff that I’ve worn for many years and that I have many memories from wearing.”

He doesn’t like the idea of having a brand-new outfit for every red carpet, either. “What signal does that send out to the public?” he asks. “It’s basically saying you can’t be seen in the same outfit more than once, which incentivizes people to just go out and buy, buy, buy, which I can’t endorse.” Far preferable is putting on a blazer he wore to a premiere five, ten, fifteen years ago and reliving the experience. Creating a capsule wardrobe from pieces so good, so well-made, he can wear them and feel great until they “fall off [his] body and disintegrate.” Only then is it time to buy something new, then repeat the cycle until that piece reaches the end of its lifespan.

The key idea here is intention: investing in items that are timeless and high quality, that’ll last you for years to come, rather than trendy fast-fashion that’ll be deemed out in a month.

“I don’t want to shame people for purchasing, buying, shopping—I’m not saying that unless you only buy secondhand stuff, you’re a bad person and you’re ruining the planet,” Skarsgård says. “I’m just saying that I think we can, without shaming or stigmatizing it, be a bit more aware of how we consume and how much we consume, and do it in a slightly more sustainable way than we’re used to.”

[land-of-holly]

Rings of Power Season 2 Episode 7 Liveblog

I heard we would have less Numenor in this episode. I feel like they're already doing more characterization spots than actual plot advancement, though that may be because I already know where the plot is going so it doesn't FEEL like advancement

Maybe more Arondir tho? Pls?? I miss him

I think we may be doubling down on the implication that the nine's mithril is actually Sauron's own blood. Isn't visual storytelling fun?

The fall of Ost-in-Edhil, as promised

Poor Tyelpe...

Somebody who knows more about metalcraft tell me how he is doing all of this hilariously wrong

Hello Mr. Mouse! He looks very polite, you should let him stay

THAT'S CREEPY PUT HIS REFLECTION BACK THE WAY IT WAS ANNATAR

Tyelpe unfortunately Annatar is going to have to ask for crunch time from you to cover for his own poor scheduling ability

Always love how media siege weaponry use seems to have no other strategy than modern artillery, ie keep hitting until you obliterate the entire fucking thing

Oh now he's "saving" them from their lord's neglect. Asshole.

DISNEY'S MULAN WAS NOT A TACTICAL MANUAL JFC ROCKS DO NOT WORK THAT WAY

That's the kind of thing you accomplish with WELL PLACED DYNAMITE

Arondir! Where did you come from?

(Seriously this show has no respect for time or distance)

I do appreciate every ring having its proper gem.

Warn him, Mr. Mouse!

T_T he's trying to find reality!

Time is money, Narvi! We need to cook dig!

Yayyyyy! Narvi!

Elf? Elf?

ELROND HOW DID YOU GET HERE

Honestly if he's not also here to defy his king I'm starting to wonder why

Nope it's not my audio, the drumbeats are actually not visually in synch with the soundtrack. What the hell, guys?

Elf! Extras! With bows!

Oh no is the mouse in a time loop?

Is Sauron's reach finally exceeding his grasp?

So it's on to strategy number 2, admit that he did it but pretend like it's all fine

"This is hardly a gift" nnnggggggg

We're in trailer territory fam

Lol it's all falling apart

This is absolutely the kind of thing I would expect to see in a good Silvergifting fic, and I mean that as the highest praise. The manipulation! The betrayal!

It's the black goop!

Noooo RIP Tyelpe

Gotta say, roughed up and bleeding looks reeeeally good on Charles Edwards

Come ON Mirdania, I know he comes off a little weird but you don't trust that fucker either!

Unfortunately Tyelpe is a little too harried to remember that blood color is literally THE easiest tell to hide with illusion magic

ANNATAR WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

wow i'm so glad i'm watching this at 7 am

JUSTICE FOR MIRDANIA

It's threats now

Tyelpe please tell me Feanor taught you about decision theory, you CANNOT respond to threats, that just leads to more threats!

Three armies?

ELF EXTRAS

WAR ELROND

Fine, fine, show off the Orc makeup

Ignore her, Elrond, she brought this on herself

Is Adar actually magicing away the sun and making shade just for his children? They do a lot with light in this show but that was a little heavy handed

STOP TALKING ABOUT HIS BEAUTY LEAVE HIM ALONE

Invoking Melian's wisdom is a really low blow. Everything could have gone so much better if anyone ever listened to her.

Elrond knows how to hit back where it hurts! How much do these guys really matter to you, Adar

ELROND IS A MASTER NEGOTIATOR!

Ew. This is some Twilight shit. He goddamn well better have had that ring in his mouth.

Because you always go into a negotiation with confidence, Vorohil!

That helmet needs like a chin strap, but I know those aren't sexy. Letting him have the helmet on at all is a huge ask for most of Hollywood

Durin Jr is a great leader!

Do not make your horse do that wtf

More surprise sinkholes

See??? He can't steal your helmet and show us all your pretty pretty face if you had it strapped on!

Elrond that was kinda cruel, take a deep breath dude

Battle battle fight fight

Now were seeing some tactical macinery use

You are gunning for a patricide my dude

She cannot be caged!

Time for Galadriel to grow an empathy??

I'm still not sure if Galadriel speaks Black Speech. I would assume so, it's useful

Arondir! Where have you been?

So she does know how to motivate people in a positive way

Narvi!!

Unfortunately Middle-earth works on narrativium, not statistics

Someone take away Sauron's literal Christian bible, please

Always focused on the end. Analysts are gonna have a field day with this

Opening up about the torture? I HAVE READ THIS FANFIC I STG.

THAT IS NOT A COMPLAINT

Literally some DARVO shit

THROW IT INTO THE FIRE

unfortunately I think that will not work

they're not even hot

come on Tyelpe you know there's only one way out of this shackle how many times did you see the aftermath lets go LETS GO

dear movie THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

oh no the artillery just has it out for poor tyelpe

I am Appreciating Galadriel declaring Celebrimbor Lord of Eregion

I can accept replacement of escape with the Three by escape with the Nine. They set it up well enough, and the emotional thrust remains

Of course the difference is this plan is doomed

Okay but have these guys accepted that they are dumb as fuck and eminently susceptible to Sauron's manipulation?

Acceptable last words by poor Tyelpe

Rian MVP!

Damrod? Damrod??

You think a few swords can stop this guy?

See? Dumb as fuck, and very manipulable.

And now the torture, I assume

I never know what language these elves are going to be speaking when they open their mouths, it's great

Killing a hill troll is a group effort

War Gil-galad??

Glug is looking more and more treasony

Dwarves? No dwarves?

AEGLOS LETS GO

arondir no

you can't kill him girl your diversity

don't try to out loremaster elrond that's mean

hey that doesn't belong to you

put that back

WOW I didn't think it was possible for a show so overproduced to simply have a bad first season but they are really showing improvement in the second IMO! Can't wait for the finale!

[thefisherqueen]

Notes while watching Granada's Sherlock Holmes: The elegible bachelor. They made a full movie out of this short story, I'm curious to see how the material has been expended upon

The beginning of this story was tough to watch. Good of Granada to touch upon the subject of the treatment of mentally unwell people, though. May we one day react to people in obvious grief and distress with compassion and offering them what they need to recover, not by subduing/restraining them or locking them up, as today still happens too often

"You wild and beautiful thing" "Not half as wild and beautiful as you" oooh smooth dude. She really is very beautiful and looks stunning in that smart riding costume! New discovery about myself: I have much more of a weakness for women in smart victorian clothing than in the prettiest of dresses. New sexuality unlocked: victorian women while they're on the move + Jeremy Brett, but only for staring at (for an uncomfortable amount of time)

To expand upon my previous point: especially staring at Jeremy Brett sprawled on the sofa in just his nightdress, which is all open at the neck and chest. Sir what are you doing to me

Not too sure about Holmes' dream. Did they choose to depict this case as a post-Reichenbach one and is that why it's all about the waterfall? I'm always in favour when media shows trauma symptoms, and think it very realistic that Holmes would have reoccuring nightmares about waterfalls after that experience, but it's a bit overdone I think. Could have made more impact if it had been a little more subtle. Loved his charcoal drawings of the dream, though, and also the 'hyperventilating via pipe". Seems like a thing Holmes would do

The old gossiping aunts are hilarious

So much screaming and fighting, was that really necessary Grananda? Holmes walking around through dark alleys in a bad mental health state is very valid, but this feels a little like I'm watching Sweeny Todd... not the greatest of association for Sherlock Holmes

"Come and use your whore, my lord. You'll never have anyone who'll do what you want like me" ehm, madam? *uncomfortably close-up of her mouth* oooh, this bachelor's former sweetheart is actually trying to murder him for daring to marry another? Exciting

Mrs. Hudson waiting in the corridor for Holmes is adorable. "I don't really sleep these days" oh no I want to hug him so badly. Watson where are you? Your intimate friend needs you

This seems like a really draining episode for Jeremy Brett to play! I want to look up if he ever commented on it

Love that Mrs. Hudson contacts Watson to say that Holmes is not doing well. "You should have called me earlier" "I didn't dare disobey him" lots of hugs for mrs. Hudson too

The emotion in Jeremy Brett's voice and face as he explains the nightmare *cries with him* Also love that they added the anger and irritation and unhinged stuff about missing Moriarty from the book. Mental health problems are not all pretty tears

The scene out on the street in the rain is unhinged, I love it

Ok, halfway through the movie and the real investigations have began. I'm quite faceblind and having trouble keeping the different ladies involved apart, and the men as well, so this will be fun to try to keep up with

*deep, silky voice* "That any man should be worthy of such love..." are you trying in seduce her, Holmes? I don't think it's working. She just wants her bottle and her lord

I knew you could walk dramatically down a stairs, never have seen one walking dramatically up it before

"It could not happen today, we have the lunacy act, you can't just put people away" "It can if you are a handsome duke" This is an interesting piece of dialog. Not quite saying all that's wrong in mental health care, but this episode is already digging deeper than most media does, especially because it also depicts Holmes - the protaganist - as having mental health problems. That already paints a much more even and sympathetic picture. It's easy to imagine Holmes, if he lived in less privileged circumstances and showed less acceptable symptoms and wouldn't have people who cared about him close, ending up in an asylum. And Watson is a doctor - not necessarily safe for someone like Holmes. Where the critique falls down is the 'innocent woman locked up, is not mad', which doesn't adress the abuse of those who are locked up and are 'mad'

"I live only half a life. Nothing seems to break the gray circle I live in" I bet that Holmes can relate to that statement. And Jeremy Brett choose to show that by standing very close to her, even at one time shortly touching her hand, which Holmes never does with strangers. That was a beautiful acting choice

"I walk the streets at night. I'm looking for danger. Sometimes I'm asking the world to hurt me, so I can feel alive" It's a shame Holmes is immediately back in investigation mode after those moving lines. It's like Holmes' bad mental health episode is treated like a mere plot device, the nightmare containing actual clues. I generally like when dreams are used as foreshadowing, but I think it works better when it's more obscure, something like 'dream gives idea for solution' or 'dream sets mood for something happening later'. This is a bit too straightforward and, like the 'creeping man' episode, the occurance of straight up predictive/telepathic dreaming feels out of place. Wrong genre

*Holmes is distracted by laundry mid-conversation* hehe very ADHD of him

"I cannot expect you to understand how much I envy you. The delight it must be to face an opponent of some worth" Very appropriate thing to say to a depressed woman who lost her sister and got disfigured herself, Holmes

"Trust me" "Not an inch, my lord" Haha, probably sensable

Oh no, he killed another wife. Mistress. Whatever. Loved that Granada made him full evil

VERY brave of the american girl to confront her 'husband', but oh, so scared for her now *few minutes later* don't agonise him further silly girl! You're being very brave, but also very stupid! Come on, Holmes and Watson, hurry!

Nice shot Watson :)

Ah, there's the second wife, still alive! And she - oh. Interesting. Did not have 'became feral witch and took revenge on her husband in the prison he locked her up in by a trap she made herself' on my bingo card

The ending when she crawled out of her prison... that was very wholesome, actually. Love that she was allowed to become 'ugly' and still be a hero, that's rare for female characters. Hope she and her sister will live on happily together. They can at least share their trauma

And it ends with a performance... wait, so miss Miller did survive? Good! And Watson and Holmes are watching it with the sisters, I presume? Gosh I'm so bad at faces. Guess it must be

A wild and dark episode for sure, overall a very interesting watch. Just a shame about the prophetic dreaming, that was a bit out of place and unnecessary

[glitchydyke]

what's hatchetfield ?

it’s a series of musicals by starkid!!!!! there’s three in the series rn: the guy who didn’t like musicals, black friday, and nerdy prudes must die :] (plus a bunch of short stories under the group name nightmare time & nightmare time 2)

each of them is set in a town called hatchetfield, where things r um. kind of fucked. on account of the group of eldritch gods using it as a personal plaything <3 each musical is set in a different iteration of the town though, with the vibes of like either a time loop or parallel universes, where everything is the same but different, a little bit to the left.

spoilers of the plot of each one ahead now !!!!

tgwdlm is the first of the series!! it’s about an average office worker guy named paul (MYYYY <33333333) who. well. hates musicals. and to his dismay becomes the unwilling protagonist in one when hatchetfield is infected by a musical alien parasite via a meteor

bf is the next, about sisters lex and hannah foster and a man called tom houston, who’s emma’s brother-in-law. lex is a worker at toyzone, a toy store selling the new famous toy tickle-me-wiggly. and things get a little bit murdery when the adults in the mall begin to form a cult over the doll, killing each other to obtain one

and the newest one is npmd, which came out abt a week ago!! it’s about a group of teenagers, peter, richie (ALSO MY <333 + played by the same actor as paul), ruth, steph, and grace, who’re haunted and hunted by the demon-ghost of a former classmate who’s intent on killing everyone he’s personally deemed deserves it.

it makes me. fucking insane. the way that things in each version of hatchetfield are different, but there are still some constants; my favourite of which is that paul and emma, the characters from the first musical, will always ALWAYS find each other. in every timeline, they’re destined to find each other, but never destined to have their happy ending. destined to fall in love, to become each other’s light in the darkness, each other’s home, but it’s never built to last.

it’s also really really fucking fascinating to see these characters fight desperately against the gods toying with them, to form such beautiful bonds and relationships, to keep themselves alive as these horrific things happen around them, knowing that… does any of it even matter? this is one timeline out of infinite, one world out of countless, does any of it even matter? does their fight even matter, when at the end of the day, it could all be erased by a bored god snapping his fingers? does their love hold any power against beings that can’t be understood, can’t be reasoned with?

and that’s not even mentioning the fucking music oh my god. my faves are lah dee dah dah day, not your seed, let it out, inevitable, feast or famine, take me back, black friday, what if tomorrow comes, high school is killing me, nerdy prudes must die, if i loved you, and the summoning. yes that’s a lot but FUCKKKK i love these musicals soundtracks good lord.

OKAY ALL IN ALL. it’s a series of horror-comedy musicals set in the fictional town of hatchetfield, each surrounding a different group of civilians as they fight to survive against some sort of horror brought about by an eldritch god. they’re v v good and the official pro-shots are all on the starkid youtube channel, along w the nightmare time stories!!!! would absolutely recommend them they r both so fun and sillay and also make me physically ill to analyse i cannot dress this enough. life and death and fate and choice and love and hatred and trying to stay together even as the universe rips you apart

[star-vessel1237]

About the Digimons partners for the TWST cast. Vil would definitely either have a Splashmon or Lilithmon, since both are Digimons obsessed with beauty and poison.

Adeuce would probably have Digimons that usually seen in pairs, eg Agumon & Gabumon, Black/White Pawn Chessmon or Terriermon & Lopmon.

Just for fun, a Black Tailmon Uver and Pistmon living in Ramshackle. They just send stuffs across the campus, either form Mostro Lounge or Mr S's Shop. They accept no requests from Crowley however.

Thank you Anon for this particular ask, it made me think about the AU and hopefully these satisfy your suggestions.

Warning: This post is really long and has some light swearing at the end.

(A/N: This AU is still a work in progress, for the most part anyway, so some of these answers may change as I continue writing for this AU.)

1: Vil’s digimon partner

I was going to go with Splashmon with this one, because in its wiki article it talks about how its obsession with beauty and how the drippins they create is like their own poison

But the more I think about it, Lilithmon also makes sense

Lilithmon is based on Lilith, from what I can tell from research Lilith is seen as a queen of hell which kind of fits for Vil for being based on the Evil Queen

Both are very beautiful

Lilithmon’s poison and powerful magic also fits well with Vil being a surprisingly strong mage and how he became his dorm’s leader for brewing the deadliest poison out of the whole dorm

Plus according to religious text, lust comes in the form of a great desire, let it be intimate or not, and I would say his desire to become more popular the Neige is pretty intense (*cough* Pomefiore chapter *cough*)

Also because of the backstory I gave Baal!Yuu, I imagine things may become, angsty when they and this Lilithmon met for the first time

To put it simply, Baal!Yuu had encountered a few of the Seven Demon Lords on their travel and most of the encounters were either that a demon lord tried to convince them to join their forces or a murder attempt that Baal!Yuu barely avoided, the demon lord of lust being the one they usually encounter ( to this day Baal!Yuu does not know why )

So even though this Lilithmon may not be the Lilithmon that is apart of the Great Seven Demon Lords, but Baal!Yuu may not realize that and things start off a little tense

They do make up and become fast friends, mostly bonding over the fact that they are both compared to the demon lords of their digital world and how both of them hate it

2: Ace and Deuce's partners

Yeah both of them would have Digimon that are usually paired with each other

The only thing is I can’t decide which between two ideas I had

One is where they have an Agumon and Gabumon since they are the most popularly paired digimon and also because the Braincell Duo might as well be Tai and Matt

The other option is Agumon (2006) and Gaomon because I also get reminded of Ace and Deuce when Marcus and Thomas start fighting and I like the idea of Deuce having a Gaomon since they are both good fist fighters

Also, whatever their partners are, they get along more than the Braincell Duo and often act as mediators whenever their partners end up bickering

3: The Local Delivery Duo

Pistmon Characterization: A loud digimon who comes off as the more social of the two. They love going racing around when not making deliveries, making new friends, and have a bad habit of talking so fast that no one can understand them

Black Tailmon Uver Characterization: A strong silent type yet always willing to lend a hand. They are very helpful and always willing to lend an ear to anyone's problems. (Not that Pistmon wouldn't do the same but Uver tends to notice things more easily.)

With that out of the way, here's how the two got to NRC

It happened unexpectedly nearing closing time, Sam was managing his store while Baal!Yuu was shopping for Grim’s tuna addiction until a loud crash was heard

When the two went to investigate they saw Pistmon and Black Tailmon Uver sprawled on the ground, covered in bruises, and near the tree in front of the Mystery Shop

While getting patched up, Pistmon told them that they were a courier duo that deliver across the Real and Digital world

When they were heading back to the Digital World they were attacked by some very territorial digimon, while escaping they got caught up in what they assumed to be normal fog until they found themselves in the woods

Confused, Pistmon wasn’t paying attention trying to figure out where they were and only noticed the tree when their delivery partner pointed out the tree they were heading into

Baal!Yuu is definitely curious about this since both of them would count as the 6th and 7th digimon that somehow arrived in Twisted Wonderland not counting themselves

After they get healed up, the two of them offered to pay Sam and Baal!Yuu back by delivering anything they need to across the campus and dorms

Eventually word got around school about the duo and now they both run a delivery service that delivers from the Mostro Lounge and the Mystery Shop to anywhere on campus

Both of them have taken residence at Ramshackle, however it seems Black Tailmon Uver has taken to staying at a certain introverts room when their last delivery is at their dorm

The two have a grudge against Crowley after they hear about Baal!Yuu’s situation and why some of the students are a bit... troubled to say the least

Especially after the Scarabia event

Crowley now has to ask one of the other staff to order for him or continue submitting anonymous letters with his delivery request until he actually helps improve their roommates’ home and find way to get all the digimon home damn’it

Both also start thinking about making disguises to go around making paid deliveries around Sage’s Island to help pay for a counselor since it seems to be lacking one, Crowley

That’s all for now, hope you enjoy!

[lesbianslvt666]

400 lux

Ellie Williams x f!reader

tw: mentions of alcohol, weed, cigars, bars, idk what else

pd: I was listening to lorde when i wrote this lol (not proof read)

I usually do come to bars quiet often.

After the first day we met I thought of her almost every night, she promised I wouldn't see her again, though I pretend to not hear that part.

It was the day after my birthday, a few of my college friends and I wanted to hang out free of the dreadful week that we survived, the air was specially cold that night so I took my favourite leather jacket with me.

she was already there when we enter, by her side, her best friend was flirting with a guy, we exchanged a few glances for some time, my friend Jesse pushing me to approach her, she smiled when I spoke

"hello beautiful"

"I thought you were never going to come"

"I guess I am a bit shy"

"do I make you shy?" moving her hair back with her hand, making it obvious she was joking, unintentionally, a chuckle scaped my lips

"your next drink is on me, choose it wisely" I looked at her eyes, but her plump shiny lips where calling me so loudly

"too much pressure for a drink" propping herself straight in her stool "I guess I'll go with a classic appletini"

"an appletini? Really? The fruitiest drink of them all?"

"what do you mean? Is a fun spin on a cult classic" she said with a comically fake offended expression

"two apple martinis please" I told the bartender, a tall guy with lots of tattoos, he was eying my friend Jesse very hard, up and down, "dude, don’t eat him up like that" she said after following my eyesight "my bad" the bartender said with a small chuckle "two apple martinis"

"I guess my friend Jesse draws attention to himself" I said jokingly while we took both our martinis 

"your friend huh? Are you near as good at twerking as he is?" she said while slightly laughing at the weird moves he was pulling on Dina my roommate, his girlfriend

"not even in my wildest dreams" we laugh, her hand reached mine to put our martinis on the bar table near us

"well, Ms wild dreams, what is your name?" she ask in my ear while getting off her stool

"Ellie Williams"

"wanna dance Williams?" she said with those big siren eyes.

The song was some sort of EDM song mashups

She was moving her body against mine, I was trying so hard not to touch every inch of her, I saw her getting frustrated with the second, "don’t mind if you touch me" she said in my ear

"smoke brake?" I asked, she grabbed my hand dragging me through the ocean of burning bodies dancing against each other.

The city air hit my face as soon as we stepped out of the place,  a few cars here and there would pass by and few people were out smoking too, the faint sound of the music could be heard from afar, the atmosphere was surprisingly sort of relaxing.

"you never told me your name"

"Y/n"a slight smile planted her lips, fitting really, her name somehow made sense

She took out a small tin box, "mj or cigs?" she said without looking at me, "mj is better" "absolutely correct" she opened the tin box, a small pack of rolling paper, some filters, a tic-tac box fill with weed, I chuckled,  a glass pipe with the shape of a cigarette, a pen cap, and a cleaner was seen on the box. "give me your hands" she said while grabbing my hands, I extended them slightly on front of me, she used me like a table, filling her pipe and pressing the weed with the cap "fuck I forgot my lighter" she said closing the box and saving It in her bag.

I took out my lighter and put the pipe in between her lips, didn’t miss the chance to touch her bottom lip with my fingers, she looked deep into my eyes, I lit up the weed and she drag the thick smoke while looking hard into my hands, so she was into that huh?

"I love your tattoos" she said after a few drags

"I have more in other places"

"underneath that pretty jacket of yours?"

"would you like to see them?" and up until that point I realized we were inches apart

"wanna go to my place? "she said looking at me, her eyes were starting to gloss up, my mouth started to feel dry

"I feel like my feet are sand" she laughed, I couldn’t stop laughing either

"mine too"

We actually never went to her house taht night.

Did you actually liked this lol??

I feel like I am shit at writing first interactions lmao

I actually have a pt two for this and possibly a pt 3 :>

[aturnoftheearth]

hi jay so due to primarily You (& thanks to extended car time driving home after the holidays) i have recently been diving headlong into lord huron ! long lost the album and particularly the song is an absolute hit for me - the strings are so dreamy and the vibes are positively lush and i have listened to it all at least 3 times thru since monday!! strange trails is v fun but i still gotta look up the words to many of the songs bc frankly i often cannot tell what they are (that's on me tho i'm generally a subtitles enjoyer). vide noir i have not listened to yet but the themes intrigue me. anyway!! this ask's purpose is to a) thank you for posting so much lh content that i couldn't help but start listening for real, and b) .. can u explain the alive from whispering pines thing? i tried looking it up and ended up on a lore wiki about a tv show that seems not real but there's also a physical dvd out there so? is it a concert is it a concept is it both what is the deal pls help ! thank u in advance this got way longer than intended <33

OMG HIIIIII YES LONG LOST IS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL ALBUM!!!!! AND SO IS STRANGE TRAILS!!! vide noir is so different than them but so fun and funky and definitely an album to listen to at night if u can!! also lonesome dreams is incredibly beautiful and i HIGHLY recommend it like i slept on it so long and regret that so much !! even though ends of the earth was my first song akdhkfhfjsjf anyway yeah :D

so. alive from whispering pines was a 4 “episode” livestream that was first teased in late 2020 and soon aired in early 2021 as both an album teaser and a digital “concert” in a way? starting in january 2021, there were 4 livestreams (each 1 month apart) leading up to long lost’s release in may. they were basically following a variety show format where the host (tubbs tarbell) was talking about whispering pines (lord huron’s actual recording studio is called whispering pines but the stories he discusses were all made up by the lead singer ben schneider when they were unable to find any info about the recording studio. he was basically like “oh there’s no history here okay let me make some”) and it would show new versions of old songs (there are some on youtube, my favorite is frozen pines). along with these, they would show little snippets of songs from the not-yet-released long lost. basically album teasers. this one played in the first episode.

oh also! fans got to call in and leave little messages and request songs and tubbs would play them. so a fictional character answering calls from real fans. and they played a lot of them on the show! not just the requests!! it was really sweet and a good way for the band to interact with their fans in a safe way. after they were all done, long lost came out and tubbs was featured in several intermissions as the host. and all this goes along with ben schneider’s idea of long lost being like an old album you find, once lost in time’s blur. anyway you can buy the dvd of the recorded livestreams now on their website, it’s a lot of fun ummm i do cry hysterically at various points of it (especially the ending) but that’s just because i’m super sensitive to change (and ben schneider kicked me in the teeth with it !!!)

[rainswept]

i’m not really interactive. i like to consume content and move on. it's easier just to get my instant gratification and keep myself from being perceived in any way because it makes me nervous. but even though i don't make use of tumblr’s basic functions, in my mindless haze i still remember feelings, words, and sometimes, urls too.

when i see “rainswept” i think of lyney. i feel like that's self explanatory, via the tag for lyney x reader, i found your blog. to be honest the first few times i came across your work i scrolled past it. wasn't really interested, wanted something shorter. but one morning, i was on the hunt again and actually sat down to read a fic from your account. it took me a while to process it after, and i was very distracted for the rest of the day. weeks later, still thinking about it, the words going from my head to a pit in my stomach that nothing seemed to satisfy. and then, strangely, i found myself looking up “rainswept” more and more often to reread instead of refreshing the daily “lyney x reader”

i dont know what model of brain you have, but it's great

your writing was not the idle comfort i was used to. it hurt to read, but it hurt worse to be without. i wanted to stay with my personal image of a flirty guy who's just that. flirty. easier to digest. i couldn't.

the way you described lyney in the few works i saw took my soft hand and shoved it into a hot fire of angst. longing. fire that rises, but also falls and churns like the sea. wholly consuming in its warpath. it did not let me keep that image of lyney. in fact, the tides of rising flame tore it away from me. burned it. because there's wayy more to be said about him and how he sees the world than who he falls in love with (“curtain call” is my roman empire)

absolutely crazy idea to me at the time. wow, imagine characters having actual feelings??? wtf. to be described so viscerally, picked apart by language and left crumpled amongst the carnage of your own being on a fandom page is to be loved. i want to love the way you do

so, to me, “rainswept” is the url that introduced me to really passionate interpretations of characters i like and the beauty of prose that holds you as if it were a lingering chill on the darkest of nights. i don't think i would be nearly as interested in trying to understand characters for who they are beyond romance without your work.

“rainswept” taught me how to love a character

it could have happened eventually with someone else's blog, but it was yours. through looking at your blog and the things you repost (v fun tags, by the way), i even found others i like too. (wow, it's almost like i’m discovering how the internet works!!!) you've indirectly taught me how to appreciate nuances in writing. now, i can proudly say my taste has definitely developed away from the 2018 wattpad era

that's pretty cool. character development for me i guess? i still have a long way to go before i can understand everything in my own way, but i’m learning. today was another one of those days where your url came to mind, it's been a while. i was more than happy to follow my whim

anyways! that's all, just thought i'd share. it's my first time sending an ask (´;︵;`) i had a lot to say, and i think i still have a lot to say, but i’m sure you know the difficulties of putting feelings into words. i wanted to make sure i expressed what i could before i lost the confidence to say anything at all

thank you for sharing your writing and silly thoughts, tumblr user rainswept

P.S. i would be sad if rain actually sweeps you off your feet, which is why i also offer an umbrella—in case the weather ever becomes too harsh. be safe, dude ☂️

long post i’m putting it under a read more

what in the WORLD anon. PH:WIYbpiHWbpi,HIDDNFLWUIEBFLIHABCKUGASVCKHVSEKUHBRWLUHBGW J,H?/?/?//

GOOD LORD i think something in me literally shattered with this ask. i am SHAKing TREMBLING EVEN i cannog even get a full BREAATH in i;m LOSING MY MIND

this ask is literally the reason i made my blog. the reason i ever posted to begin with. my writing ever being seen like this was my ultimate goal. if there was anything i’ve ever wanted it was this. to move people, to change their minds, to get them to see things beyond their outward appearances — and i guess i’ve achieved that because. oh my god.

i don’t know how to do this ask justice anon. i saw it and if i was standing i think i would have fallen over. you say my prose is beautiful yet yours left me breathless. seriously, not just because it being directed towards me meant so much but also just the quality of it. i understand not wanting to present yourself publicly on tumblr, but i think you are an amazing writer and if you ever did i’d be your first follower. i would read all of the writing of yours i could get my hands on. so if you have ever had any inkling to do that, do it. you only live once (and i’d go feral for it)

speaking of writing. aside from just writing because i want to, my whole mission of sorts on here is to change how people view characters. i know i can’t alter everyone’s perception — if they think someone like lyney is just flirty snd nothing more, they’re usually going to continue thinking that — but to know that i’ve had even one person change their mind on even one character is .. astounding. not even to mention changing how someone views characters as a whole? indirectly causing someone to look deeper into them, to analyze them closer, to pick them apart like you said, to feel more when reading about them? that’s absolutely insane (positive). i will never be the same after this actually.

i write to feel, and i write to make others feel, even emotions i or they may not want to. i like digging deep into characters, into pain and sadness, because i’ve always noticed that stories that hurt stay with me longer. they make me think and think and i keep going back to them. and they may not make me feel better, but i like it anyway because, to me, what is the point of reading if it isn’t going to stick with you? what is the point of feeling if, as soon as you pry your eyes away from the pages, the emotion fades with the ink?

to know that you kept thinking about my writing, then kept coming back, and that i altered the way you view characters is. crazy to me. absolutely crazy. despite desiring it so deeply, i never thought i’d have that effect on someone else.

maybe i changed how you view characters and writing, but you continue to give me the motivation to continue doing so. and actually both are so valuable to me. to know i have moved someone enough for them to send an ask like this. i don’t know how to put into words how much this,,, affected me?? i could honestly die peacefully right now. like this is all i’ve ever wanted.

“i want to love the way you do” i think you do. i think you have. i think to send an ask like this it may take more of it. this may have not been your intent or expected outcome but this has genuinely moved me. so so much.

“rainswept taught me how to love a character” oh my GOD.

i’m so glad you did have the courage to send this, because it means more to me than you know. i will cherish this forever. i’m so honored, both that what you wanted to say to me overpowered the fear of sending an ask and the fact that you even had these words to say to me to begin with. i get what it’s like to be afraid when it comes to reaching out, but know you will always be welcome here, whether it’s heartfelt words or genuinely anything. if you do have more to say, ever, i will absolutely welcome it with open arms

it takes a lot to reach out like this, but just know this is the most valuable interaction i think i have ever had on tumblr. if this doesn’t stick with me for life i think it’ll be safe to say i’ve lost all my memories. maybe i’m being dramatic, but i want you to know the extent that this has changed me (it’s fundamentally).

i don’t know how to say thank you for this. i think this will singlehandedly carry my motivation and will to keep creating for the rest of my life. i think i will keep writing because of it (and because of you, to know you are out there and once continued to return, even if i leave tumblr, even if you no longer do). to know someone out there was genuinely moved by what i also was is the greatest motivation i could ever dream of. whoever you are, i love you.

i was going to copy and paste some things you said and comment on them in particular, but i could literally do that to the entire ask. but i hope you know i will likely continue to reread every single word of this ask over and over until i can recite it because oh my god i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life

“curtain call is my roman empire” anon THIS is my roman empire 😭

this is so so all over the place because it made me so emotional LMAO i am so sorry. i don’t know how to summarize all i want to say, or go over everything you have said, but just know that i will keep every single word of this close to my heart and cherish it like i probably never have anything else.

thank you for everything. including the umbrella — rain doesn’t usually sweep me off my feet, but this ask did so i’ll use it for that instead.

[kaceypink]

From: https://pinkkacey.itch.io/modern-aeon/devlog/657382/post-mortum-i-sorta-regret-writing-a-trans-lesbian-elongated-muskrat

When I first started working on this story (I think back in 2021) I approached it with a desire solely to chase the themes present in the first part. The small dom with a lot of attitude, big dog service top who likes to get pulled around (a real masochist emotionally and physically). The bodyguard and her dark evil ceo lover. I followed a desire to write something inspired by the roaring 20s and the evil but thrilling wonder if an industrialists life. Paying people to have ideas for you, is a very old industrial capitalist thing. I wanted to show the glamor and the luxury of shinny leather, designer watches, tailored suits, and flowing dresses all on rough, beautiful lesbians. I think to an extent that first part really does convey that pretty well.

I have been thinking a lot about how Flur, even though she isn't as evil or manipulative as she wants people to think she is, is a capitalist in a way that I might never write again. My stomach has been so churned by Twitter falling apart. I wanted to write Flur sorta as a response too, ya know, what would a "good" person like this look like to me. What sorts of things would make up her mindset, how would she be radicalized away from great man theory and towards equity and labor rights. But you know, for all the good she has done in the story, she's still stolen people's wages and been a land lord and stuff. I know she's fictional, but I also I don't really believe there really can be such a thing as a "good industrialist" or "good capitalist" anymore. I guess that was my radicalization journey.

I wouldn't blame people for not connecting or even understanding the choice of character I wrote here. Ultimately though, her character is one of flipping people off and grabbing a failing world by the throat to right it for the better. Murdering your r*pist half brother in front of your family so you can steal the factory out from under him and keep the family from immolating in male chauvinist related debt does feel pretty wild. But whatever, I had fun. We can be wild ass from time to time. It's fine.

The novel opens with a peak at Flur's desire for equity for dragonkind, something that's not hidden but does grow in the background across the story to the point where it's implied she's selling weapons to a liberation movement in the southern part of the country. Flur actively lobbies against removing subways in the capital where she lives and does lots of her business. It would be more profitable to force everyone to buy a car with the engines she designed, but she still makes hand over fist selling them to train, subway, plane, and boat companies. By the end of the book she asks her workers to run her company for themselves, effectively becoming nothing more than a figure head a loud mouth piece. The story conveys a lot of that in the margins however, mostly because this isn't a story about Flur's company or her political actions.

The second part is where the story turns away from what was presented in the first part. The story isn't really about these two characters as bodyguard and CEO either, it's about their relationship and dealing with history. Things coming back to get you, litterally or emotionally. I think my favorite part of the whole novel is that masquerade, the way in which Tempest comes into her own and how she proves her love. I really like these two characters, I think about them a lot still.

The last couple parts I really struggled with, particularly the train part. I really wanted to write it well, and I think for the most part it's a strong bit of story with some weak areas. I really like the intro of family in there. The ending is a favorite, particularly the last chunk of these two living together and having a family feels very special to me. If you've read it, or it sounds interesting, I hope you feel the same.

I feel like if I were to ever come back to this story I would refine it to solely be based around that masquerade. I'd revise how the antagonist and the demon stuff works. It gets a big shonin anime, but that's fine. I'd also make it more clear how Flur's an anticapitalist disguised as a capitalist. I'd make the focus solely on the power of Tempest and Flur's love, though it is in this novel as well.