#but also exhilerated

[mermaidsirennikita]

Listening to Shadowheart after a smattering of very tepid historicals is very "finally good food", but also depresses me because where did the books where the hero has a whole gang of child soldiers he's training while also saying things like "Hurt me, hellcat, but only in bed" while also promising that if she has his baby pretty please he pwomises he won't train them to be child soldiers even if that was his childhood and did he REALLY turn out that bad???

goooooo

[queenlucythevaliant]

Northern Lights

.

I heard a voice that cried, “Balder the Beautiful is dead, is dead!” 

.

Who knows what to call the lonely exhilaration of gazing out into a bright Northern sky? Who can name it? 

Jill could.

It was the same feeling that came to her at the teetering edge of a cliff at the end of the world. The same feeling as when she said her goodbyes to Puddleglum and Scrubb before they freed the prince. It was the same feeling that engulfed her now, sitting in the professor’s library with a volume of poetry before her. 

.

The wild northern wastes were well named: utterly wild, perfectly desolate, and terribly Northern. 

It was lonely there and often cold, but the sky was an endless whorl of gales and gray clouds. The stones were indigo under the pale winter sunlight, and at sunset they glowed a soft gold, as though lit from within. The gorges and moors lay before her, and Jill loved them for their vastness and their distance. Little grew in that country, but that which did was full of vigor. The grass was short and coarse. Every tree was victorious. 

On a still, deep breathing winter night, Jill lay on her back beneath a covering sky. It seemed beautiful to her, rich and strong and glorious. Her eyes drank in the breadth of it until her tears began to blind her. Yet even then, she still couldn’t look away.

She felt bigger here in the wastes, like the landscape. Stronger, wider. The further she walked, the more she felt herself stretch out. One of these days, maybe, she would catch hold of herself at the edge and tug, and Jill Pole would open up clear as the Northern sky. 

.

And through the misty air passed the mournful cry of sunward sailing cranes.

.

The thing that surprised Jill most about the battle with the serpent was this: there wasn’t any yelling. Always, it seemed, whenever she read stories about people fighting with swords, the combatants would let loose some guttural yell before their blows fell. They would scream and writhe in pain as they died. They would shout instructions to their fellows, “Look out!” or “Hit him there!” But the whole affair with the serpent passed with very little noise. 

The poison-green coil constricted around the prince; he raised his arms and got clear, struck the serpent hard, and then Scrubb and Puddleglum dispatched the creature with heavy, hacking blows. The monster died writhing, but not screaming. And then it was over. 

The thing that surprised Jill most about the moments before battle was, of course, the noise. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. She couldn’t stop listening to her own breathing. Every footstep rang out like a gong, and any words exchanged rang with a kind of finality that made them sound louder than anything. 

“You are of high courage,” Rilian told her when it was over. 

Yet the thing in Jill’s chest just then didn’t feel like courage. It was a deep breath, a plunge, and a release. It was loud and quiet all at once, till she was standing, blinking in the night air as snowballs whizzed round her, and maybe that was something like courage after all. 

.

And now, there was a stirring in her chest as she reread the words on the page. Sing no more / O ye bards of the North / Of Vikings and of Jarls! / Of the days of the Eld / preserve the freedom only / nor the deeds of blood! 

She thought of grief. Of freedom. 

The lonely ache in her belly grew stronger. She felt herself uplifted into the huge regions of sky that were just beyond those cliffs, weightless as the breath beneath her buoyed her up, further, further…

.

When she saw Caspian up close, Jill thought that he looked like the sort of person who was meant to live in a castle. A silly thought, perhaps, since she knew he was a king– only she wasn’t thinking of Cair Paravel. No, Jill was picturing the ruins of an old British castle she’d visited once on holiday. She still remembered how the stonework had loomed over her, all towering arches and crumbling walls. That was where Caspian seemed to belong. He had an air of ancient tragedy about him. 

When Rilian disappeared, all things had wept but one. The serpent coiled beneath the earth and flicked its forked tongue, spewing poison. 

Now, the king half rose to bless his son. He whispered a few words as he caressed Rilian’s cheek, words meant only for those beloved ears. Jill saw Caspian’s lips move and wondered what a man like that could possibly say, when time ran so short. 

.

They laid him in his ship, with horse and harness, as on a funeral pyre. Odin placed a ring upon his finger, and whispered in his ear.

.

Jill furtively took Myths of the Northmen and held it up to the professor with a question in her eyes. She was still shy around him and Miss Plummer, though she wished she wasn’t. 

“Would you like to take that with you?”

“...Please.”

.

It takes a certain kind of person to be exhilarated by the heights. You’ve got to love vastness more than you fear falling. 

.

They walked to the train station with an autumn wind blowing hard, and though Jill couldn’t fathom why, she turned and saw Lucy grinning, fierce and joyful– grinning and reaching a hand out towards her friend.

Jill reached back and grabbed it. “What will you do, once we’re back in Narnia?” she asked. 

The wind blew harder. The feeling of anticipation grew and grew, until it felt so big that she couldn’t dream of containing it. And there was Lucy, holding Jill’s hand and laughing like it was easy.

.

Preserve the freedom only, not the deeds of blood!

.

The second time Jill went to Narnia, she found herself not at its edge, but at its end. 

The thing about the Norse apocalypse is: it feels believable. It doesn’t reach beyond earth’s horizon to pull down hope beyond hope. It’s only the kind of courage that hopeless humans have: you are going to die, so you might as well die bravely. 

They found the last king of Narnia bound to a tree. His eyes were faintly red from crying, and his wrists and ankles red from the coarseness of his fetters. 

In the Norse myths, Loki broke free of his fetters at the end of the world. He escaped to the helm of a ship made from the fingernails of the dead.

The last king of Narnia fell forward onto the ground when Eustace cut his bonds. Jill crouched down beside him and watched as he rubbed feeling back into his legs. He wasn’t so much older than her, she thought. Jill was sixteen years old; the last king of Narnia could not be older than twenty-two. 

In the myths, the gods were ancient, hewn from the bodies of giants old as the earth. 

Jill put out a hand and helped the last king of Narnia to his feet. Not for the last time, she shivered. Something deep inside her (deeper than her chest, than her heart, than the marrow of her bones, deep as her soul, deeper) was singing an elegy and she didn’t know why, or how, or where it had come from. The king clutching her hand, who could have been her older brother, would have no heir.

Yet when he asked, “Will you come with me?” Jill could only smile. 

“Of course,” she said. “It’s you we’ve come to help.”

.

And the voice forever cried, "Balder the Beautiful is dead, is dead!"

.

“This really is Narnia at last,” murmured Jill. The springtime wood had little in common with the wintry lands she had traveled the last time she was here– but it awakened the same feelings of Northernness in her chest. 

Their party may as well have been the only people in the world, for how isolated their little wooden path seemed. Yet it wasn’t lonely, really, cocooned in all that green with the wind in the leaves and the primroses nodding and blue of the sky peeking through above. 

Jewel told stories about what ordinary life was like when there was peace here. As he spoke, Jill could almost hear the trees' voices speaking out of the living past, whispering, stay, stay. She was caught up to a great height, looking down across a rich, lovely plain full of woods and waters and cornfields, which spread away and away till it got thin and misty from distance. 

“Oh Jewel–” Jill said with a dreamy sigh, “wouldn’t it be lovely if Narnia just went on and on– like what you say it has been?”

She needn’t be a queen, as Susan and Lucy had been, but Jill would’ve liked to stay. She would've liked it all to stay, if it could. She might have been a woodmaid in a place like this: with the turn of the seasons, the swaying trees, swords into plowshares. Oh, if only she could stay!

Ahead, the last king of Narnia was softly singing a marching song. Jill tilted her head back and let warm shafts of sun caress her face. 

.

I saw the pallid corpse of the dead sun borne through the Northern sky.

.

“So,” said the last king of Narnia, “Narnia is no more.”

He tried to send them back. Jill shook her head. It was very loud and very quiet. “No, no, no, we won’t. I don’t care what you say. We’re going to stick by you whatever happens, aren’t we Eustace?”

They couldn’t go back anyway. Neither would they flee, not south across the mountains nor North into the great wide wastes. No, they would stay. They slept in a holly grove on the edge of ruin, waiting for the bonfires to light.

Jill slept fitfully, but in between she dreamed. She was high up in the air, buffeted by clouds and pierced by shafts of silver sunlight. 

.

They all died, in the myths. Jill knew that. It seemed beautiful and brave when she read it in her book, tucked away safe in the Professor’s library. It was terrifying now– and yet it was beautiful and brave still.

The dogs came bounding up, every one of them, running up to the king and his men with their tails wagging. One of them leapt at Jill and licked her face, tongue roughly lapping up the sweat and tears that had dried on her cheeks. 

“Show us how to help, show us how, how, how!” the dogs were barking, almost ebullient in their enthusiasm. Jill bit back a sob. How lovely, she thought. How terribly beautiful. How dreadfully brave. 

.

So perish the old Gods!

.

The white rock gleamed like a moon in the darkness when Jill finally reached it. She ran back to it alone, her hands shaking, while her friends stayed forward with their gleaming swords and Jewel’s indigo horn.

The while rock gleamed like the moon. Jill’s first shot flew wide and landed in the soft grass. But she had another arrow on her string the next instant. It was speed that mattered, not aim. Speed, and turning aside when she cried, so as not to drip tears on her bowstring.

The white rock gleamed. In the myths, a wolf devoured the moon. Peter’s wolf, slain many thousand years ago in this world, opened his jaw wide and darkness fell over everything.

Her next arrow found its mark. After that, she lost track. She pulled, and she prayed that her hands kept still another minute. 

The unique thing–maybe the appealing thing–about the Norse myths, was that they told men to serve gods who were admittedly fighting with their backs to the wall and would certainly be defeated in the end. Jill let loose another arrow, felt the white rock at her back, and she knew that the clawing fear–beauty–bravery deep in her gut was the same feeling that she felt on the heights. The same feeling, but a different face. You’ve got to love vastness more than you fear falling. 

.

“I feel in my bones,” said Poggin, “that we shall all, one by one, pass through that dark door before morning. I can think of a hundred deaths that I would rather have died.”

“It is indeed a grim door,” said Tirian. “It is more like a mouth.” 

“Oh, can’t we do anything to stop it,” said Jill. Better to be dashed to the ground than it was to be devoured. 

“Nay, fair friend,” said Jewel. “It may be for us the door to Aslan’s country and we sup at his table tonight.”

A hand tangled itself in her hair and started to pull. Jill braced herself hard, for a moment, until her strength gave out. She was standing on the edge of a high, Northern cliff. She took another step, and fell.

.

Perhaps when the moment comes, our bite will prove better than our howls. If not, we shall have to confess that two millennia of Christianity have not yet brought us to the level of the Stoics and Vikings. For the worst (according to the flesh) that a Christian need face is to die in Christ and rise in Christ; some were content to die, and not to rise, with Father Odin.

.

The world inside the stable was beautiful. It made Jill’s chest ache in all the loveliest ways. 

.

Build it again, O ye bards, fairer than before!

[comixandco]

hey

heyheyheyheyheyheyhey

go ride a dragon and descend into the depths with them right now

you can thank me later

[thesilenticeroads]

goddamn... cant believe i actually did it. renders and refs for my babys on artfight before the bell rang.

feels... nice. even if i dont get any attacks, just having my guys put down somewhere in a public space is so gratifying. i feel accomplished

[notmuchtoconceal]

imagine loving something this much, and being this ashamed of how much you love it. imagine showing this much excitement over this many pecuiliar hybridizations, yet returning always to the pretense of normality. demanding an explanation. demanding it explain itself. parsing out the dream-like molecular atomism and seeing for yourself its fantastical juxtapositions. imagine seizing on this many interior contradictions, and responding in kind, before bringing it back to the envy of not only wealth, but of being able to experiment with forms without being judged in a cramped, urban setting.

we've found it folks: mcmansion heaven

Hello everyone. It is my pleasure to bring you the greatest house I have ever seen. The house of a true visionary. A real ad-hocist. A genuine pioneer of fenestration. This house is in Alabama. It was built in 1980 and costs around $5 million. It is worth every penny. Perhaps more.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Come on, Kate, that's a little kooky, but certainly it's not McMansion Heaven. This is very much a house in the earthly realm. Purgatory. McMansion Purgatory." Well, let me now play Beatrice to your Dante, young Pilgrim. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.

It is rare to find a house that has everything. A house that wills itself into Postmodernism yet remains unable to let go of the kookiest moments of the prior zeitgeist, the Bruce Goffs and Earthships, the commune houses built from car windshields, the seventies moments of psychedelic hippie fracture. It is everything. It has everything. It is theme park, it is High Tech. It is Renaissance (in the San Antonio Riverwalk sense of the word.) It is medieval. It is maybe the greatest pastiche to sucker itself to the side of a mountain, perilously overlooking a large body of water. Look at it. Just look.

The inside is white. This makes it dreamlike, almost benevolent. It is bright because this is McMansion Heaven and Gray is for McMansion Hell. There is an overbearing sheen of 80s optimism. In this house, the credit default swap has not yet been invented, but could be.

It takes a lot for me to drop the cocaine word because I think it's a cheap joke. But there's something about this example that makes it plausible, not in a derogatory way, but in a liberatory one, a sensuous one. Someone created this house to have a particular experience, a particular feeling. It possesses an element of true fantasy, the thematic. Its rooms are not meant to be one cohesive composition, but rather a series of scenes, of vastly different spatial moments, compressed, expanded, bright, close.

And then there's this kitchen for some reason. Or so you think. Everything the interior design tries to hide, namely how unceasingly peculiar the house is, it is not entirely able to because the choices made here remain decadent, indulgent, albeit in a more familiar way.

Rare is it to discover an interior wherein one truly must wear sunglasses. The environment created in service to transparency has to somewhat prevent the elements from penetrating too deep while retaining their desirable qualities. I don't think an architect designed this house. An architect would have had access to specifically engineered products for this purpose. Whoever built this house had certain access to architectural catalogues but not those used in the highest end or most structurally complex projects. The customization here lies in the assemblage of materials and in doing so stretches them to the height of their imaginative capacity. To borrow from Charles Jencks, ad-hoc is a perfect description. It is an architecture of availability and of adventure.

A small interlude. We are outside. There is no rear exterior view of this house because it would be impossible to get one from the scrawny lawn that lies at its depths. This space is intended to serve the same purpose, which is to look upon the house itself as much as gaze from the house to the world beyond.

Living in a city, I often think about exhibitionism. Living in a city is inherently exhibitionist. A house is a permeable visible surface; it is entirely possible that someone will catch a glimpse of me they're not supposed to when I rush to the living room in only a t-shirt to turn out the light before bed. But this is a space that is only exhibitionist in the sense that it is an architecture of exposure, and yet this exposure would not be possible without the protection of the site, of the distance from every other pair of eyes. In this respect, a double freedom is secured. The window intimates the potential of seeing. But no one sees.

At the heart of this house lies a strange mix of concepts. Postmodern classicist columns of the Disney World set. The unpolished edge of the vernacular. There is also an organicist bent to the whole thing, something more Goff than Gaudí, and here we see some of the house's most organic forms, the monolith- or shell-like vanity mixed with the luminous artifice of mirrors and white. A backlit cave, primitive and performative at the same time, which is, in essence, the dialectic of the luxury bathroom.

And yet our McMansion Heaven is still a McMansion. It is still an accumulation of deliberate signifiers of wealth, very much a construction with the secondary purpose of invoking envy, a palatial residence designed without much cohesion. The presence of golf, of wood, of masculine and patriarchal symbolism with an undercurrent of luxury drives that point home. The McMansion can aspire to an art form, but there are still many levels to ascend before one gets to where God's sitting.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[mxdotpng]

if it werent for the fact i am as delicate as a sheet of the thinnest paper imaginable. i think id really like to be punched in the face

[wonfilms]

enhypen & the ways they say "i love you" (without actually saying it) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

warnings : n/a : gen: fluff a/n: im back?!? after almost 6 mths .. but yes i'm back, (finally..) school has been HELL, BUT yrhome is back in action, i hope this is alright even though i feel a little rusty hehe, reblogs & comments are very much appreciated

heeseung -> "this song reminded me of you." - heeseung's love is constant, never once wavering. he sees you in every little part of his life.. he thinks about you constantly never once do you leave his mind he discovers a melody that seems to capture you within mere musical notes... so he shares it with you.. each song that make his heart swell just like you do.

jay -> "you wanted this right? i saw you looking at it at the store last weekend?" - jay's love is bold yet gentle, almost like a first love and a last kiss paired in one. jay remembers everything about you, your favourite colour, which perfume you use, what shoe size you are, what makes you tick and what comforts you after a long day? so it's no surprise that when he caught you eyeing that lipstick at the store he just had to buy it for you, whatever makes you happy is all he wants.

jake -> "give me one more kiss, please babe just one more..??" - jake's love is exhilerating and yet comfortable all at once, like the fond nostalgia of a childhood fair-ground ride. he should be out of bed right now, rushing to get ready for work but he can't help himself.. not when you look that damn beautiful laid in his arms , he kisses you softly letting the feeling linger. just one more kiss, he pleads.. but you both know that's never the case

sunghoon -> "have you eaten yet baby?" - sunghoon's love is soft, sweet and it feels warm like a bowl of soup. he never fails to ask you whether you'd eaten yet, always. he takes comfort in knowing you're still safe and healthy. he shows his love through words, whispered confessions against your neck and gentle squeezes of your hip as he kisses you to sleep at night.

sunoo -> "i wish i could see you all the damn time" - sunoo's love tastes like oranges and frozen grapes. he didn't think he'd ever want someone's company like he wants yours.. he needs you he wants you by his side even more with every passing minute. it feels almost natural to see your smile and your pretty eyes every minute of the day, it's like a second nature to him to admire you. jungwon -> "i wanna grow old with you one day" - jungwon's love is like rainy days spent cuddling next to the fire. he's never been one to shy away from the words 'i love you', but that's probably just because it's you. hell, love is terrifying but he knows you're the one for him. his other half the last little missing puzzle piece in his life, you're perfect for him. niki -> "you make me wanna try." - niki's love is like a gentle studio ghibli movie. it's not perfect but yet it still it. his love is encouragement, soft words of affection exchanged in private and heart-wrenching embraces that make you feel like melting. you're both young, and maybe thats completely okay, love is also helping the person you love most grow and change and still staying by each other's side.

[angelwishess]

୨୧ The Little Mermaid; Floyra AU!!

Floyd takes the role of Ariel, and Kyra takes the role of Prince Eric!

Tagging: @taruruchi @scint1llat3 since you guys seemed interested!!:3 and @screamintoad @gimmeurmoneyagh for being the #1 Floyra supporters ever HEHE <3

Rambling under the cut ~

Notes:

All of the characters in this AU are over 20 !!!

I’ll try to seperate this in different parts according to major plot points n’ stuff teehee (cw: mentions of alcohol)

In this AU, merfolk have not been seen in over a hundered years. Kyra is a princess and heir to the throne of a flourishing kingdom by the sea, and one day decides to run away for a little bcs she was bored HAHAHA

She hitches a ride onboard a ship of pirates, their captain being Jamil. While they were celebrating their new “crewmate”, a loud crash was heard coming from the nets.

Caught in the nets was Floyd, who the pirates planned to sell to make a fortune. But, Kyra couldn’t let that happen. And so she freed him in the middle of the night and helped him get back into the sea. (He actually bit her while she was cutting the ropes, and it left a scar.)

All the while, a terrible storm was brewing, and it eventually sinked the ship— causing Kyra to fall overboard alongside the rest of the pirates.

Floyd saved her, swimming her back to safety on the shores of her kingdom. That she tried to run away from.

As a week passes, Floyd began to not show up to help Jade lure in customers for Azul more often. Choosing to instead swim up to the surface, and around the shores he last saw Kyra.

One day, there was a parade. But in the middle of it all he saw Kyra sitting there on a grand parade float, surrounded by beautiful flowers. And he realized he had to see her again.

He swam back down, going to find Azul hoping that he’d give him a potion that could turn him into a human, even just for a little bit. Although reluctant, Azul makes a deal with Floyd.

Azul would turn Floyd into a human for a month, but he takes his voice in return. But if Floyd doesn’t get a kiss by the end of the month, he’d turn back into a merman.

Azul wasn’t too worried, the contract was made just to ensure he wouldn’t spend too long up in the human world. But, he was sure Floyd would eventually get bored and return back to them.

..Right??

Once on land, Floyd made his way to the palace where he was sure to find Kyra.

He managed to get rather far into the palace, slipping in undetected. It was a good run, until the guards discovered him, and began to escort him out.

Of course, they were stopped by Kyra, who was curious as to what was happening. And after seeing him, she immediately ordered them to release him.

Not having much of a choice, the guards let him go and Floyd pretty much runs to Kyra. 😭

Kyra, however, does not remember Floyd. She does not remember much of the day of the shipwreck other than tiny bits and pieces. But if its one thing for sure, she could never forget his eyes. One look into them, and Kyra knew there was something special about him.

Ever since this day, the two became inseperable. Much to everyone else’s dismay.

Floyd was nicknamed as the princess’ “jester”, as he didn’t do anything around the palace other than follow Kyra around and make her laugh 😭, but he still was allowed to do anything and everything he wanted to without any concequence, as Kyra would always be quick to make an excuse for him.

Kyra did teach Floyd sign language, but Kyra developed a strange skill to know exactly what Floyd was trying to say even without it. Talking with facial expressions to the max fr 😭

Ever since meeting, Floyd would get Kyra to sneak out of the palace more often. And the two had the most exhilerating of escapades. In less than a month, they had made a wonderful array of unforgetable memories. The most fun they’ve ever had!

While they were out, Kyra and Floyd ran into Jamil, who had also survived the shipwreck. Despite not remembering much, Kyra does, in fact, remember Jamil trying to kill her at some point.

So!! She immediately turns around and makes a run for it, dragging Floyd with her.

Jamil notices them, though. And while he doesnt exactly try to chase them, he does recognize them. Especially Floyd.

Meanwhile, with Azul, Jade and Elena… They have come to the realization that Floyd was probably not coming back anytime soon.

With only three days left, they had to come up with something to get him back. So, they send up Elena to the surface to try and get Floyd back.

While Floyd was happy to see his dear sister, he stubbornly refused to go back with her. Leaving Elena to wander around the kingdom, trying to find what Floyd seems to like so much about the human world.

Wandering into a bar called the “Mermaid’s Tail”, she sits at the counter beside an obviously intoxicated man.

She was about to leave, until she heard him grumble something that caught her attention.

“..If it wasn’t for that stupid sea beast, and that girl…”

Realizing Jamil must know something, Elena began to buy him drinks to get him to talk. Dragging out infromation and more from him, taking advantage of his intoxicated state.

“I see… Well, I just happen to know someone who can help you. Come by the shore near the cliffs, tomorrow at noon.”

Well, he had nothing much to lose anymore. So Jamil ended up waiting by the shore just as she said.

Suddenly, a tall figure emerged from the water. A teal skinned eelmer, that looked strikingly similar to the one that was caught in the nets of his ship that fateful day.

He found himself being led by the mer to a cavern near the cliffs, there he saw two others. A larger octopusmer, and a mermaid that looked eerily similar to the lady he met at the bar… Wait a minute.

Azul began to speak, trying to strike a deal with Jamil. Stating that they both wanted something, and they could help eachother.

If he married the princess, he would become royalty. And Azul could help him do just that. In return, Jamil would bring back Floyd to them.

(This is actually a ref to the fact Kyra was originally shipped with Jamil … Yeah I can’t believe this is how I admit this on this blog 😭😭)

Jamil eventually does agree to the deal. And Azul gives him a necklace that allows him to hypnotize whoever he pleases. (Basically just Snake Whisper in jewelry form LMAOO)

With two days left before the month ends, neither Floyd nor Kyra knew what was about to happen.

Jamil successfully got into the palace, hypnotizing Kyra into marrying him.

Aand this is the part where ive gotten stuck LMAO. Im not sure what happens next, but Floyd does manage to snap Kyra out of it, and Azul, Jade and Elena do accept that he has the right to make his own decisions and do their best to respect it.

Jamil and Elena … Something’s probably happening with them after everything actually HAHAH

Kyra and Floyd do get engaged!! They run away together, travelling the world together and seeing everything there is to see. And spreading their chaos everywhere they go. And so !! Even more silly fantasy shennanigans HEHEHE

HEHEHE OKAY I THINK THATS IT !! YAP SESH OVER 🤭

[overandundertarot]

pick a tattoo; message for you

pile 1; Queen of hearts, The Hermit reversed, Ace of swords.

Pile 1 I feel you are taking time to cultivate a specific state of mind. Stillness, being present while at the same time appreciating such intense aspects of human emotions and meeting them with kindness and love. Right now, you are considering pursuing a solo journey, it's not something everyone will understand or that you can even explain. This can be physical or mental; you want to incorporate a potent source of creativity and connection to source in your daily experience. Keep at it, you're still wondering how to go about it. It feels like a half formed idea in your conciousness but let it marinate. You will arrive at a conclusion soon. For some there is something to do with cutting it off with/reaching out to another person. I heard making the best decision for both of you; do what you know and feel is right.

pile 2; 10 of cups, Ace of cups, Ace of swords.

Wow Pile 2! Romance is in the air! You have a romantic prospect right now(or several!) and are trying to be discerning. If not one is coming towards you very soon. You want to protect your heart, but are a secret hopeless romantic! You want in your deepest of hearts to get lost in the feeling and go crazy with love; experiencing the joys and exhileration of being with another person. You hope your partner can be an escape from reality for you, if not a soothing balm to the exhausting end of your day. You want a partner, a family and domestic bliss. Message for you is to give them a chance; let them show you how good it can be. Say yes to that movie or that trip! It seems too good to be true, but it's all you deserve. Enjoy it. So much happiness in in store for you pile 2! Ahhhh I wanna hug you, my heart is feeling full with it.

pile 3; Queen of pentacles, 9 of wands, King of wands.

Pile 3, how're you feeling? It's important to check in with yourself every now and then. You're working hard on a journey but you need to give yourself appropriate time to rest. I'm hearing that you romanticise the suffering. Not to a toxic degree but to make it all the more bearable. You likely already know your message. Keep going. You're doing wonderfully. This pile reminds me of Victoria Monet's words at the recent grammy awards. To paraphrase she explained that her receiving that award last night was a process years in the making; she was growing roots, laying ground. And she's finally begining to sprout. It's the same for you. You are patient with yourself, tending to to your work that you know will put you at the top one day. You have this regal air about you, keep your head held high. Some of you are facing a decision, I'm hearing to go with the shocking option lol.

pile 4; 6 of wands reversed, Queen of cups reversed, Ace of swords.

Things are very much upside down for you pile 4. There's been a thwarted victory(or a hollow one at the very least). It left you feeling empty. I get the feeling like you're crying out to the universe for help but it seems like no one is listening. You're keeping all these things bottled up; refusing to open up. There are people in your life who want to reach out to you but you are not trusting them, very guarded though i feel like its not obvious. Many people may not even know that you are struggling; they think everything is going great for you. The message for you is basically what you just read; you didn't know how to pinpoint what you were feeling. Reframe the situation; are you satisfied with those conditions? That's a no, open up to the people around you, or find a channel to process these emotions. Let yourself bloom again. There's also a big theme of turning your pain into profit. Perhaps use your experience to create art or to find a new persepctive in your work. There are solutions available to you. Use them.

[bumblingbabooshka]

funniest possible tuvok/t’pel dynamic to me is that they’re a hater x lover relationship where tuvok is the hater and t’pel is the lover. she’s like “look at this my beloved” and shows tuvok some corny instagram normie meme and he’s like 😑. they watch a movie together and she’s like “it was pretty good!” meanwhile he’s writing a ten page essay tearing it to pieces. they love each other for it though they balance each other out

[snowbunnywatching]

How would you have met Malik? Work, apps, at a bar? Is the attraction instant and overwhelming? How does it build up to the point where you decide you need to leave your bf for him? And how difficult is it to not cheat in the mean time? Would it have been something you were looking for as well in the context of Blacked Denmark, presumably with other women/girls doing similar things? Or something you never would have expected of yourself?

(Follow-up to this post - note that all of this is fantasy.)

I meet Malik at the arrival center where the Black visitors are registered and briefly stay before being assigned a permanent home. I work as a volunteer at the center - as so many other young Danish women also do - helping the newly-arrived Black men fill out the required forms.

It's a rainy afternoon when I see Malik for the first time. He’s tall, with deep brown skin, close-cropped hair, and a quiet strength in the way he moves. We're sitting next to each other at a small desk as I'm going through the various fields in the form.

I notice he's looking less at the form and more at me. I look up and our eyes meet.

"Your hair," he says. "It smells like the flowers that grew outside my village."

I blush and lower my eyes. But as we continue filling out the form I feel myself sneaking little peeks at him as well.

A week later we share our first kiss. I have been volunteering at the center every day after work, seeking out Malik and talking with him during my break. About life in his village and what he left behind. About my disappointing love-life. About the life we could have made together if things had just been a little different.

It is with both exhileration and despondence that I make my daily visits to the center. Exhileration at getting to talk to Malik again. Despondence that I'm starting to fall for him. Realizing that I will need to either stop talking with him or leave my boyfriend.

The kiss is wonderful. All of our pent-up desires are finally released.

I tell Malik I need to end things with my boyfriend before we take things further. It's difficult for the both of us. I want to take my clothes off together with him, feel his naked skin against mine. I want to feel what it's like to experience all the pleasure that my body was made to experience.

[diamonddaze01]

⋆｡°✩ n o t e : thank you to everyone who tagged me in this ( @sungbeam , @petrichor-han , @haologram)! took me forever to finally get around to it, but excited to share my wrapped for this year!

⋆｡°✩ on poetry and homecomings - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first ever fic! based on a quote by the fantastic palestinian poet mahmoud darwish. something about the words, "If I ever see a flaw of yours, I'd say my eyes are the flawed ones" made something in my heart twinge in the most beautiful way. a purely self indulgent fic i wrote after an exhausting work week, and suddenly, here we are, 3 months later.

⋆｡°✩ plan b-day - hong jisoo

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my last fic of 2024! a lil drabble for the loveliest boy. no real notes on this, other than i am sure that murphy's law somehow targets me 50000x more than the average human being. again, purely self-indulgent, but also a wonderful way to close out the year.

⋆｡°✩ baby, darling, light of my entire life - choi seungcheol

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : the idea for this came to me after a crazy night out. though i myself have not gotten to this level of drunk yet, i definitely would scream about how pretty choi seungcheol is any day, any time. i was actually shocked when this blew up - it wasn't my favorite piece i'd written at the time, and i woke up one morning and it had skyrocketed from maybe 100 notes to upwards of 600 in one night. weirdly, i think this was maybe the third thing i had ever posted to this blog and it made me so happy that people actually enjoyed my writing. bdlomel, ily <3

⋆｡°✩ full throttle part i | full throttle part ii - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : oh, full throttle, what to say about you (i am combining both parts into one fic - the only reason there are two parts is bc tumblr is a bitch about formatting). there are few things that exhausted me, exhilerated me, enraged me, and made me feel as proud as i do looking at this finished fic. three weeks of non-stop writing every day after work, jotting down notes in the cleanroom and during lunch breaks, and storyboarding when i should have been sleeping culminated in most possibly the pièce de résistance of my year. i had so many people who cheered me on as i wrote this fic, battled through witty banter (that i myself could never say irl) and fiery headlines, but none cheered as loudly as @haologram and @ylangelegy. alta and kae were genuinely the wind beneath my wings as i wrote this, and reading their comments in the doc was what kept me going. in the end, i'm genuinely so happy with how full throttle turned out, and seeing the reactions i'm getting from it make me feel so fulfilled.

⋆｡°✩ the somerset affair - lee seokmin

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first forray into longer fic writing (and i'm still battling my way through it, but we don't talk about that). if anyone knows me, they know how much of a Bridgerton fan i am - i quote anthony's speech on the daily, and penelope/eloise are some of my fav romcom heroines ever written (until they both get married, but again, we don't talk about that). i felt like writing this fic was my way to pay homage to this fictional world i adore so much. i have a love/hate relationship with the actual tone of the series - its so hard to maintain the regency tone and also write in a way that's true to my own voice, but at the end of the day it's a challenge i relish. i'm so excited to finish this series this coming year!

⋆｡°✩ 40 fics posted - check them all out in my masterlist!

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : to be fair, a lot of these are drabbles i did for my 101 drabble prompt game, but fuck it we ball. maybe i'm just insane.

⋆｡°✩ ~133,470 words written

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : again, i think i might be a bit insane. did a sacrifice sleep to write? yes. did i storyboard at work? also yes. but then again, it's been an interesting year to say the least, and writing was a really good way to blow off steam after a stressful day at work.

⋆｡°✩ some of my fav fics i read this year - please read the warnings on each fic and do not interact with smut if you're a minor! this is in no particular order:

⋆｡°✩ unforgiven [boo seungkwan] - @haologram ⋆｡°✩ catch you when i can [smau] [chwe hansol] - @xinganhao ⋆｡°✩ the first snow [hong jisoo] - @junkissed ⋆｡°✩ what are the vibes? [choi seungcheol] - @daechwitatamic ⋆｡°✩ red card [kim mingyu] - @highvern ⋆｡°✩ an ode to hands and voice [boo seungkwan] - @ddeonghwa-s ⋆｡°✩ take my word for it [yoon jeonghan] - @ylangelegy ⋆｡°✩ prey [choi seungcheol] - @pochaccoups ⋆｡°✩ sit down [kim mingyu] - @gyuswhore ⋆｡°✩ ave, general [lee jihoon] - @amourcheol

these are just a few of my fav fics i've read, but if you want to see all my recommendations - i suggest checking out @diamond-reads !

⋆｡°✩ goals for 2025

⋆｡°✩ on diamonddaze01: i have a lot of collabs coming up in 2025! i hope that i can meet all those deadlines and write things i'm proud of. i've also learned that writing longer fics like full throttle or somerset affair make me feel more fulfilled as a writer, so expect a lot more of them as i further explore my writing style and characterization. i also want to go back to some of my older wips that i abandoned and reopen them, see where i can go with a fresh mindset. ⋆｡°✩ personal goals: i have a lot, but to name a few: read more, laugh more, love more. i also want to focus on establishing a better work/life balance - i know already that the coming months are going to suck at work, but i no longer want to drag the weight of corporate life home with me. work is work, and that's where it will stay. i want to prioritize my mental and physical well-being over all else, and that starts with reprioritizing things like work, my social life, and writing.

⋆｡°✩ final thoughts

⋆｡°✩ i started writing on tumblr because i was stressed from work and felt like i didn't have a community, especially at a new job and a new city. what started as some stress relief turned into a community of its own. i'm eternally grateful that i was able to meet some wonderful people this year that i truly feel a sense of belonging with. to everyone in the networks i'm in, to anyone that reads my work, to all the lovely people i've met: thank you, and i love you.

⋆｡°✩ if you've made it this far, thanks for reading, and thank you for all your support. i love you all endlessly. it's time to sign off for 2024.

with love as vast as the stars themselves, tara <3

⋆｡°✩ tagging (but no pressure): @tusswrites, @chanranghaeys, @bitchlessdino, @ddeonghwa-s , @c-oupsie, @lovetaroandtaemin, and anyone else who would like to do this!

[lollytea]

Love the idea that the feral, hormonal Willow post and the dress measurements post take place simultaneously, so you have this teenage girl holding onto her restraint by the skin of her teeth and then suddenly getting a text from her boyfriend with his measurements because??? what???does she do with this??? Is he making a move?? Is something happening here?? It’s probably too forward to send her own, right?? Should she just go for it or gather intel from her friends first?? meanwhile Hunter is just like “I’m gonna make Willow such a pretty dress :D”

YES!! That is exactly what's going on here. I have this vision of how Willow and Hunter's romantic relationship started off. Things moved quite slow, because Hunter got overwhelmed very easily and Willow liked him so much and didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in what should be a safe space. It's very new and neither of them really know how to approach romance immediately, but one of them desperately wants to practise and one of them needs more time to ease into it.

Willow is always watching Hunter with sharp eyes, intently reading his body language, waiting for any kind of signal that he'd like to do a little more than hold her hand. It's usually Willow that initiates the less nerve wracking stuff like hugs and hand holding and casual affection, but she let Hunter kiss her first. She's very proud of herself for noticing the way he glanced at her mouth or she wouldn't have asked "do you want to kiss me?" and then he wouldn't have done it. Whenever Hunter initiates something, Willow knows he wants this. She knows they're making progress.

Once during a group movie night, he fell asleep resting against her side and she laid in that uncomfortable position all fucking night. He eventually started sleep snuggling her and she she was fucking EXHILERATED. This is what she's been starving for.

A headcanon that I hold so near and dear to my heart is that Willow is secretly batshit insane. Totally bonkers. Off the fucking rails. Yknow just in general. And Hunter definitely makes the crazy flare up. But she's always been good at hiding it so nobody suspects a thing.

Hunter is not very good at articulating how he feels about Willow but he's desperate to express it in any way that he can. So he's always doing nice things for her. And making her laugh. And supporting her in any way that he can. And surprising her with little gifts that he made.

Willow also isn't all that good at articulating how she feels about Hunter. "You're cute" and "You mean a lot to me <3" and other casual flirty lines are used a lot but she's not quite covering the extent of emotions. She feels a lot more intensely than that. She can't really put it all into words. All these feelings give her the unbearable urge to start gnawing on his flesh like a fucking damn griffin drumstick.

The texts make her wanna act up somethin fierce

Hello_willow: what are these?

RULERZREACHF4N: My hip, waist and bust size <3

Willow at her fucking LIMIT:

What does that MEAN?? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? Is this flirting? Maybe Hunter's idea of a scandalous text?? She knows from whispers in the hallways that sometimes significant others send pics when they wanna get bold. Like shirtless pics. She has been hoping every damn day that one day her scroll is gonna buzz and its her shy boyfriend, deciding that he likes the way his chest looks today and he wants to show it off to her. But it can never be that simple, can it? NO. Her fucking tailor of a boyfriend it trying to speak to her in tailor language and she can NOT fucking fumble him right now because there's a chance that if she gets this right, she might get to put her hands on the areas that he has given her the measurements of.

Hello_willow: Oh

Is she supposed to compliment him on his beautiful measurements? His broad chest? His slim waist? Should she say that she'd have no problems wrapping her arms around him? That he is the perfect size for squeezing? That she wants to come over and see for herself if he's being honest? Is that what he wants to hear?

RULERZREACHF4N: Is there something you want to tell me? :)

Willow panics, suddenly feeling the pressure to answer quick. What does he want?? WHAT DOES HE WANT????

She quickly decides that she CANNOT be bold here. Because all of the things she wants to say are shockingly indecent.

That's when she realizes. It's Hunter. Hunter, who told her yesterday that he used to be scared of the dark when he was little. Hunter, who might be trying, in his own weird Hunter way, to be a little more vulnerable. Give her more personal details about himself, so she knows that he trusts her and feels safe with her. Like when a beast rolls over on its belly.

A little of Willow's tension melts away. He's very sweet. She likes him an awful lot.

Not knowing how to proceed, Willow awkwardly tries to let him know that she appreciates him telling her things that he thinks are important.

Hello_willow: thank you

Feeling a little unsure, she adds a question mark at the end. And then, upon getting a few seconds of silence on the other end, she panics again and hurriedly types another message. A little more upfront this time.

Hello_willow: I love learning new things about you Hun. You have very elegant measurements <3

Another twenty seconds pass.

RULERZREACHF4N: Thanks. You're sweet <3

HALLELUJAH TO THE TITAN, TO THE SON AND TO THE HOOTY GHOST!!! HE THINKS SHES SWEET!!! SHE IS GONNA GET TO HOLD HIS HIPS TONIGHT!!!!

RULERZREACHF4N: Can I have your Dad's number?

NO!!! HOW THE FUCK DID SHE FUMBLE THIS!!!!

[talonabraxas]

Aten Talon Abraxas Mabon, the Autumn Equinox 2024

Mabon, the Autumn Equinox, also known as the Witches Thanksgiving among a few others, falls between September 21st and the 23rd. This year, the equinox will technically occur on the 22nd.

This is the time of year when once again the sun and moon are in balance. Falling into the moments where the sun’s power begins to diminish and the onset of winter begins.

Days will become shorter, the night will reign and the temperatures will drop.

Mabon is a time for balance, giving thanks, and reflection. We give thanks to mother earth for the bountiful harvest, but also honour death as nature prepares to go dormant for the long winter.

Mabon History

Mabon history is actually kind of odd, seeing that the term ‘Mabon’ only came about in the 70’s. Alas, the name has stuck (and there seems to be much debate on whether or not it should have lol).

Some prefer the term Harvest Home as a more traditional name, among others. I, however, do quite enjoy the term Mabon, and is generally the one I stick with.

Regardless of what you call it, Mabon, Autumn Equinox, Harvest Home; September, the harvest and the changing of the season has long been a celebrated and exhilerating time.

A perfect time for us to take a moment, breathe deep, appreciate life and renew our strengths.

That being said ‘Mabon’ is the Sun God in Welsh Mythology and represented youth, love, sex, power, and vitality. He was the Child of Light and son of the Earth Mother Goddess, Modron. In Welsh, Mabon translates to ‘great son’and is the masculine side of the harvest. This is the second grain harvest (after Lughnasadh), a time to rejoice and rest after the last grain has been cut.

In one mythology, it is the day when the God of Light is defeated by the God of darkness. Mabon is sometimes seen as a child who was born at Yule, grown throughout the year with each Sabbat and by the Autumn Equinox is an elder preparing to return home to the fairie realm to once again be reborn at Yule. This is a time to give him thanks.

Blessed Mabon!

[cinnonym]

Felt inspired by this. Decided to write a mini fic. Fell into a rabbit hole and wrote a slightly longer piece that's also barely related to the inspiration anymore. Once again, whoops? Anyway, here goes:

"Miss Swan?"

Regina's voice cut through Emma's quiet misery like a single ray of sunlight through an overcast day. Warmly. Unexpectedly, therefore. Emma wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the mayor, not since the whole becoming-Sheriff-in-spite-of-her-meddling fiasco. She'd done her best to avoid Regina in the days (weeks) that followed, but apparently the winter solstice was more of a celebration-worthy event in the rural corners of Maine than one would think. Or maybe Storybrooke was again, as it was in so many ways, the exception.

"Madam Mayor," Emma said, reluctantly looking up from her glogg to squint at Regina. Leave it to the woman her own son called the "Evil Queen" to look sharp and professional even at a party where the alcohol was handed out with a ladle. In a dark green pantsuit and plainly hazardous golden heels, Regina looked like the kind of person who went to an office Christmas get-together just to sniff out who spoke badly about the company, then ratted them out to the boss. Except that she was the boss. Dangerous combination, that.

Emma surreptitiously slid her glogg mug into her jacket pocket. It was empty anyway. Again.

"Can I help you?" she asked smoothly, bracing herself for the accusation that was sure to come. It seemed all Regina did with Emma was accuse her of things. Stealing her son, first and foremost. Being an irresponsible asshat, who didn't know the first thing about being a mother, also. Among others. Some charges were wrong, some were right, but it didn't matter, because Regina launched all of them with the same vigour, the same glint in her eyes that made Emma's hair bristle and her stomach lurch with excitement at the same time. An exhilerating mix. Not that she enjoyed being the mayor's favourite punching bag. She just didn't not enjoy it either...

"Indeed I think you can," Regina said now, voice tipped low to avoid being overheard. Emma had picked a rather quiet spot of town hall to nurse her glogg in, but the room still contained too many bodies to allow even the illusion of privacy. Which could be the reason why Regina's next sentence was: "Walk with me."

"Uhm," Emma said, "I guess?"

Articulate as always, but at least this time she could blame the alcohol. Not that she'd had any real quantities, but then again, considering how sweet the glogg tasted, it sure packed a punch. And Emma had drunk enough that she wasn't ungrateful when Regina offered her an arm - how tipsy did that make her to even be able to stand being this close to Emma - to lead her across the room and towards the stairway up to the offices. The crowd parted around them, a couple dozen eyes following their ascent, and more than a few people gave Emma a sympathetic nod, but apart from that, most townspeople were too busy enjoying themselves to pay them much attention. Soon, the hum of the party faded, and the only sounds came from Regina's heels on the newly renovated stairs.

Emma cleared her throat. "So, what exactly do you need help with?"

"Upholding tradition," Regina replied, her tone still oddly warm, her hand still on Emma's arm, gripping it assertively but not forcefully. They had reached the mayor's office, and Regina unlocked it and pushed Emma inside without letting go of her once. In the neutral lighting of the room, Emma could see that her cheeks were flushed. It made her look absurdly pretty, somehow. Not that Emma was paying attention.

"It's tradition to abduct the sheriff from a mediocre Christmas party?"

"Winter solstice," Regina corrected, and not even then did her voice sharpen. The thought crossed Emma that she had to be a nice drunk, which was surprising considering she was so un-nice otherwise. Most people got ruder under the influence, but then, maybe Regina's default was already maximum rudeness, so the only way to go from there was up. Or maybe, Emma thought with something that felt alarmingly like fondness, maybe the mean exterior was all an act, and the alcohol made a truer, more caring core come to light.

Of course, it was utterly unproductive to wonder about the mayor like this. Besides, it wasn't like Regina would always be drunk from now on, so it wouldn't do for Emma to get used to this version of her. Better to keep her guard up. Better to stay -

Regina pushed Emma. Full on pushed, two hands to her shoulders, shoving her backwards, causing Emma to stumble against the desk, lose her footing and sit. Her torso, still carrying momentum, tilted backwards, she flailed, her gaze flew up and landed on a small green bundle of twigs, hung smack middle above the desk and thus Emma.

- safe.

"Mistletoe!" Emma exclaimed before she could help it, before she could even remember to curse at Regina for pushing her like this. "Quick, quick, we gotta - "

Only then did it register. The shove. The invitation into Regina's office. The fact that it had been locked, and yet someone had to have hung the mistletoe, someone had to have prepared the room -

Emma's eyes met Regina's. The mayor stood close to her now, practically towering over Emma in her heels and fuck-me outfit, and Emma half-expected to see a smirk on her face, a victorious smile at luring Emma into her trap. She half-dreaded that it had all been an act: the voice, holding her close, the glimpse at something softer underneath. She half-knew she was fucked, so fucked.

Instead, Regina's eyes were averted. Her gaze flitted to Emma only once, something almost like shame churning below a certain bashfulness. Her cheeks had reddened further. She all but chewed on her lip (but of course Regina would never).

Emma could scarcely believe it, but for once in her life, Regina looked uncertain.

It was enough to stop Emma in her tracks. She knew she wanted Regina to kiss her. And now she realised that Regina wanted to kiss her too. Wanted it, in fact, enough, to stage a whole show around it. Wanted it enough that it terrified her.

Slowly, with a distinct sense of unrealness, Emma reached out her hand. Her fingers hovered over Regina's cheek, not quite daring to touch, but offering to. An opening, that was all. Time lengthened.

Then Regina exhaled a small puff of air and leaned into Emma's hand. Her eyes fluttered closed but Emma couldn't stop watching: how the curve of Regina's face slotted into Emma's palm, how her chest rose with her next breath, how she stepped close and reached for Emma on instinct alone. Her hand found Emma's neck with unexpected gentleness, fingers slipping over the skin under Emma's ear and up into her hair, where they gripped tighter, drawing Emma close, into her. Their noses touched and still Emma watched, as Regina tilted her head, her hair tickling Emma's arm. As she brushed her lips against Emma's, carefully, questingly at first, then, when Emma didn't pull away, more firmly.

One of them, Emma couldn't tell who, sighed, and Emma's eyes finally closed. Regina's lips tasted of glogg and something harsher, spicier, that Emma couldn't place. She smelled like it too, sharp and soft at the same time, and the sensation washed over Emma as they kissed, and kissed. Her hand fell from Regina's cheek to the nape of her neck, while her other one came up to rest against Regina's hip, her fingers feeling out the shape of her bones through the cloth of her pants almost reverently.

They stood like this for who knows how long, swaying softly with the kiss, but barely moving apart from that. Then, somewhat abruptly, Regina took a step back. Their lips separated. They were both breathing heavily.

"Wow," Emma said, when Regina made no move to talk.

Regina nodded, her eyes dark and warm, like chocolate.

Another break ensued.

"So, that's the tradition?" Emma asked, somewhat awkward now that the kiss was over. "Canoodling with the sheriff at the solstice celebrations?"

Regina gave her a look, but it was a mitigated version of not even her worst glare.

"Actually, Graham and I would - "

"Thanks, but on second thought, no details for me," Emma interrupted quickly. She felt decidedly too good about what had just transpired to waste any time thinking about the nature of Regina and Graham's relationship. Way to make Emma feel less special. Though she had half a notion that Regina hadn't watched Graham like she was watching Emma now, a certain shine to her eyes like she couldn't quite believe what had happened. How good it had been.

Or maybe that was just Emma projecting.

"Well, anyway," she said, hopping down from the desk at last. "Now that I know where to find this - " she pointed at the mistletoe above her " - I wouldn't mind being called into your office a few more times before Christmas. Just putting that out there." She shrugged. She felt fucking fantastic and it seemed suddenly way more likely that she would enjoy the party downstairs. Leave it to Regina Mills to achieve what several glasses of glogg had not.

She turned one more time before leaving the office. Regina still stood in the same place, looking up at the twig above her with a poorly concealed smile. Maybe she was drunk. Maybe she wasn't. She'd let Emma in though. And that was a first.

[swifty-fox]

MOTA Hockey AU, so tell me about Buck and Bucky's first kiss! Or when they realize they're gonna date :D

OOO okay well this may be subject to change once i start writing (I dont control the characters they control me)

but I think that Bucky kinda makes a real ass of himself at first (SHOCKING)

As i've said, Gale kinda corners Bucky for a quick n dirty long before they're even friends and once they're in the same team Bucky is relentless in his teasing of Buck about it (in situations where he doesnt risk outing him) he's also REAL interested in that happening again please and thank you. Big Buck is pretty much like 'fuck off and fuck you (not sexy' for much of it.

Because it's a new team they do a lottery system for rooming together when traveling in hotels and Buck and Bucky by some weird twist of fate (author loving cliches) they draw straws to room together at least for the first season. This creates a lot of negative tension just due to their different game-day rituals as i went into but also because Bucky continues to hit on gale and try to tempt him into bed. It kinda has the opposite effect and kinda scares the fuck out of Buck and it kinda all comes to a head where a bit too drunk Bucky's trying all his moves in the book and he's kinda got Buck semi cornered in the room and while he isn't doing anything past the line of consent he DOES finally fucking realize "oh this isnt Gale playing a game or playing hard to get I am genuinely making him uncomfortable"

Cue him feeling awful. Cue him going to Curt to be like 'uh i really fucked up bad'

Cue curt threatening to knock Bucky's fake teeth in if he doesn't apologize and leave that boy alone because what the fuck Bucky.

and Bucky's a good guy he is and he genuinely feels so bad and slimy because he's like a dog with a bone and he let it go to far so next time he and Gale are in the hotel room he apologizes with his whole chest and promises he's done. "No more hitting on you. We're teammates and that's it. On my Ma's grave."

And Bucky keeps his word! He stops with the flirtation (past general hockey flirting you see between teammates) he stops propositioning him. He stops turning his music up louder during pre-game prep every time he sees Gale twitch with annoyance. And I think when he gives Gale that space he does the best thing he could have done and gives Gale the opportunity to actually know John. To work with him and bond with him and they start creating a really beautiful friendship out of it.

I think fast forward to their second year playing together. It's not a playoff game, the're well off from that but it has been an unusually rough game. Curt was ejected for a dirty hit and then mouthing off to the ref, Croz got pulled from second line to fill in Curts spot and he's honestly doing better than people expected but he doesnt play with Rosie and Buck usually and it's showing.

Buck lost a tooth after a nasty high-stick and his jaw is going to be BRUISED tomorrow. Both their first line D-men are down with injury so it's the rookies. They're fighting for their LIVES and man they somehow manage to eek out that win and it's just exhilerating. Buck and Bucky are in the middle of the celly pile and their masks are pressed together and they're just grinning and staring into eachothers eyes.

Later they're the last two in the locker room and Gale grabs John and pushes him against the wall in the deepest most passionate kiss that John literally almost goes weak at the knees. He's never been kissed like that before in his life.

I don't think after that they have like a "we are boyfriends" conversation. But they do end up together. They're rooming together at that point full time and slowly but surely Gale just starts spending every night in John's bed