#but they are both spring vibes 2 me

[cowboylikeme]

speaking my truth as i cannot be silent any longer: 1989 is a spring album

[the-tarot-witch22]

Messages from your inner child - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My October goal

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Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1

(The cards I got for you guys - 3 of pentacles , 6 of wands)

Okay so the first thing i feel and heard is you inner child is quite proud of you and your growth, i also heard "in the process of healing" so many of you could be already healed or trying to heal, your inner child feels complete from this accomplishment of yours, I also heard for some of you, your inner child say "the love you always craved was already inside of you", why worry, when things are starting to fall into it's place, i know its hard but know the way i see you grow, from all those phases, hardships and you grew to be that exact person i always wanted to be, so own up to it, you deserve it all, and much more, for some of you your childhood could have been harsh or one of your parents too hard with you. I feel happy when i see you smile or laugh or when you bright up the room, i know someone worthy of us will see it, you have learnt a lot, haven't you? i see that growth in you, how mature you have become, but one thing hasn't changed is, your kindness, i am glad to see that in you, I feel so grateful to you and others around you that they love you, i see you walking towards your goal, path. I see our work we put in at times, became so rewarding and fruitful, all thanks to you. i also hear your inner child saying "don't be lazy okay?, we have so much to achieve" but along with that rest, don't stress too much, i feel and know you would do great! You could be the elder sibling or parent type of your loved ones~

with love.

Gosh your inner child is quite sweet and yet gave mature vibes, this pile gave me earth sign and Aquarius sun/moon/rising energy.

Pile 2

(The cards I got for you - king of pentacles, 9 of wands, 4 of pentacles, the empress)

Okay so the very first thing i feel and heard for this pile is, you could have had lots of expectations on you from very young age, like you would have to understand the family situation, and this group had "mature beyond your years" and the energy of this pile is heavy you could be the most emotional and sensitive and yet you learnt to hide it better, or there were times, grown ups around you didn't listen to you, or most of the times you were misunderstood, I also feel this pile could have gone through hard school life or home life, contemplating if you are not perfect you could not be loved, this group might also had big dreams when you were a child and wanted to see yourself in luxury, and experience what your inner child could not, I also feel there some people around you who "bullied or teased" you like making comments that are hurtful and them still making it or making it seem like it was a joke, which could have lead to your insecurities. Anyhow, let's dive into your reading. I heard your inner child say "you are perfect and more than enough as you are, you don't have to try to fit in because were never meant for that", "you were meant for more, to be unique", damn to those who were against you and your dreams, and know i am proud of you, and we will reach where we always wanted to be, i see your inner child being emotional and the energy here is heavy and mysterious, like i feel you did emotionally go through a lot, but i see your innerchild giving you some messages i am hearing "we got this", "we did it", "we made it", "we have to be successful", such a determined energy here, but i also hear , to go easy and be kind to yourself, you don't always have to the bigger person, you can make mistakes that is okay", i also see you patting your inner child back and them giving you a reassuring hug. Like they are telling you its all going to be okay, I also feel you could always have had liked luxurious items. A very random message but anyways, i feel your innerchild telling you it's okay to not be okay at times, you are also a human, be kinder to yourself everyday, love yourself the way you love others. Your inner child talks a lot, and its adorable and i also feel your voice or emotions could have been shut out. So they feel proud when you stand up for yourself.

That's all my lovelies, *i am closing the reading by sending virtual hugs to you pile 2*, just keep going~

Pile 3

(The cards I got for you - 9 of cups and page of pentacles)

Okay so the very first thing i feel is your inner child being totally satisfied. for some of you in this pile could have been the naughty kid lol they love your chaotic yet that honest energy, they also like that you have been healing and working on your growth, they like your chill energy and the friends you have made, they like how you trying to be more confident in your body, they feel so loved and cared for, your inner child is literally beaming with satisfaction, i also feel some of you could fulfulling your childhood dream more likely studying or making a career or name for yourself, I also hear your inner child says that they love you, all those tough times actually helped you becoming better, i see and feel your innerchild loves creating art or express themselves through the same like art, music to express how you actually feel. Okay so random, guys did you ever manifested something like something close to you and your innerchild or wrote it in journal i feel its going to be coming true! but anyhow, this pile has light hearted energy and your innerchild still is inside you so embrace it, and do try to once in a while pamper them~ I hear your innerchild say "good changes and your wishes will come true, just be true to yourself".

Thats all for you pile 3~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[kithtaehyung]

mami (m) | myg/knj

title: mami (m) pairing: myg x reader(f) , knj x reader(f) , slight jhs x reader(f)😛 rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates au summary: you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date. note: heavy 00s vibes, this is just the beginning of a collection of parts instead of just a oneshot let’s fucking goooo🦋 note 2: this is pretty unedited lolll if there are mistakes i'm so so sorry! warnings for this part: language, choking, joon in sweats, bathroom s*x, b*ckshots, friendly sp*nks from your roomie🤪, it uhhh starts right out the gate lmfao, hobi in silk and a robe, yoongi is a warning in his own right, light sl*pping, you get called mamiii😗 so if that’s not ur thing i’d skip this series !!, joon is too smooth, a secret fourth guy lmfaoooo, battle rap scenarios! drop date: september 26th, 2023, 10:07pm est word count: 3.7k  mood: here 

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“You like that, huh?” 

Breath short, you can only gasp as the hands you’ve been eyeing all night clutch your throat, a fiendish hum the first response to your satisfied grin.

“Knew you would.” As your delicious captor speaks, you just know he’s fixated on your makeup—at least, the way it’s smearing onto a bathroom mirror that has seen better days. “You all do.” 

Fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Fucking hell, he always knows.

Your lust condenses and slides down the glass in rivers, and with each experienced thrust inside your folds, it’s getting harder, and harder, and harder to see the man wrecking your shit. 

But it’s coming. The end. The coil inside you is screaming and tightening and you know he can feel every potent pulse as you slap the tiny counter with a palm. “Yoongi—”

“You gonna come, mami?” 

Yes yes yes you really fucking are. It’s so truthful that you can’t even voice your agreement in words, your moans higher and higher in pitch the only tell you can possibly give. 

“Then fucking do it.” 

Light bounces from your eyes and rebounds off the mirror the same time your whine does, every limb locking while bare shoulders bang against your reflection. 

“Fuck.” 

You spring right into the ground floor above, eyes rolling so far back you could probably see the way Yoongi’s smirking at your ass if your dumbfounded mush of a brain wasn’t in the way. 

Again, and again, you milk his cock for all it’s worth, spurning him into gripping your bouncing hips with rough hands and faster strokes. Laughs and conversations seep through the door at your side, but you can’t make out a thing as you garble, 

“Yoongi, please—”

“One more.” 

“I can’t—”

“Don’t play dumb,” he tuts. “You won’t hustle me a second time.” 

Busted. 

Your pout quickly stretches into a devilish curve instead, and you hear his sound of approval before you brag, 

“I spent all that already, by the way.” 

Air whizzes past your ears as you’re hoisted upwards, and your mirth reverberates as you’re spun and shoved into the sink, cheap laminate bruising your back. 

Yoongi must also be remembering the time your pussy sucked the soul out of him. After you both made a bet that you couldn’t beat someone’s record time making him come. 

You won half of his prize money that night. 

And that was the night he won the entire thing. 

“You’re lucky I respect it,” he snarls, sweaty fingers gripping your chin as he slings a leg over his pelvis. When he grins, you wanna lick the white off his teeth. “And you’re lucky I made it back the next night.” 

Oh, shit. Did he really? 

Battle rap events usually stack so that everyone gets a chance. How did he get invited back the same weekend? 

Well, other than being a monster on the mic. There’s a reason you can’t stay away from him, and you may or may not admit you get turned on by how effortlessly ruthless he is. 

Lips smushed, you ask with genuine curiosity, “You won again?” 

Yoongi lightly smacks your cheek, chuckling when you grit out a moan. “Nah. The sponsors loved me,” he claims, finally bringing a hand down to guide himself back inside. “So they paid me to come back.” 

“Sick,” you praise through a grunt, fully catching his eyes for the first time tonight. Pushing past the way he fills you so fantastically, you huff out, “That doesn’t happen on south side.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

“Yeah, apparently west and east side do it a lot. Especially with that guy Randa—”

“Fuck Randa.”

Ah, so Yoongi knows him? You haven’t ventured into the west scene yet, but the one thing you know about it is that dude’s name.

So he must be a beast.

Especially if Gloss himself had some choice words.

At this little slip of emotion, you don’t hide your smirk at all. “Oh? Maybe I will if that’s how you feel.”

The sudden possessive shove of his cock into your folds is delightful, your high giggle pinging off the bathroom walls.

“Fuck whoever you want, princess,” he chides right against your lips. “You’ll always come back to me.” 

“Duh.” You flick your tongue over his plush. “You wouldn’t last a week without me anyway.”

Yoongi pushes into you again, stare heavy and coaxing butterflies from your belly. “I’d manage.”

“As if.”

But even through the pleasure, you still wonder. How are you both having a regular conversation right now? This never happens with him. You’ve wanted it to, but there simply hasn’t been any talk when he’s involved. 

The high from your orgasm compounds with this strange feeling that you turn a little playful.

“What I meant was…” Fingernail poking his tank, you joke with a sly curve, “Guess you must be like, good or whatever.” 

When he looks down, you childishly swoop your finger up to bump his nose. “Ha. Loser.” 

Predictably, Yoongi pauses before only his eyes raise, suppressed emotions hiding behind long dark strands. “Really.” 

And even though you felt him twitch in your core, you’ll spare him. “I don’t make the rules.” 

You think this is when he’ll start ramming into you again, because none of the times you’ve hooked up ever lasted this long. It’s always been quick with him, and never in any other place other than bathrooms or broom closets. 

Which isn’t bad. Just a pattern you’ve noticed. 

But Yoongi huffs in amusement before shaking his head. “Since when were you this weird?” 

“Wow, rude?” Your scoff is full of mock annoyance. “I’ve always been this way.” 

It’s just that no one’s taken the time to get to know you.

“But you’re so…” 

All they care about is one thing. 

Which, granted, is the same in your case. 

It just gets a bit lonely sometimes. 

Offering to finish for him to stiff arm any more incoming awkwardness, you blurt, “Hot? Slutty?” 

“Fast.” 

Oh. 

Did you both just assume the other person wanted it over and done with?

That’s entirely possible considering the first time it happened lasted a grand total of three minutes. Max.

“I mean…” You lean back on your palms, not caring to adjust your very mussed top because your chest finally snags all of Yoongi’s attention. How he’s still hard inside of you is a complete mystery. “I don’t just fuck, you know.” 

“And here I thought we were similar,” he teases, groaning through his teeth when you roll on his dick. Again. 

And again. 

Of course you’re both similar. The only difference is that people dub this guy a sex god and you’re an easy lay. 

But you won’t get into that with him. Not now and probably not ever since you don’t dare even label Yoongi a friend.

Panting, you observe him watching your movements as you switch the subject, “You fucked that one sponsor chick for the invite, huh.” 

And he takes the out hilariously quick,

“Both of them.” 

Of course. Your head kicks back in laughter, remembering that there were two people running the event instead of one. 

Truthfully, you would’ve paid to see that. 

“Can’t stand you,” you lie, the way you chuckle as he slaps one of your tits saying otherwise. 

“Good.” 

As he rubs a rough thumb over a nipple, an announcement blares over deejay scratches and cheers, tugging both of your eyes to the door.

Before things quickly devolve into how they always go.

When you arch forward, his lips devour your breast; when you rock your hips into his, the groans against your chest make you feel alive. 

Your nails claw through his hair before you can’t decide if you wanna rake them through his shoulders or his neck. Here, there, everywhere you can grab, you take hold. 

Suddenly, Yoongi clutches the top of your skirt before thrusting in hard, and his laugh when you whine out a curse strikes your soul. “It’s better that way.” 

It’s always better that way. 

“Agreed,” you murmur, eyes flickering to the janky ceiling before sighing out, “I think they just said your name.” 

“Mm.” 

He plunges into you so hard you see his impish curve imprinted among the stars. 

“Then hurry up, mami. Gimme one more for luck.” 

MAMI 

“Who’s on the menu tonight?”

You hum while peering into your mirror—a much cleaner, brighter mirror than the one you were pressed against a couple weeks ago. “That nice guy I’ve been seeing at the gym.” 

“Wait, what? Are you going on a date date?” 

“Hobi,” you giggle, loving your roommate very much despite the way he just forgets sometimes. “We went through this already.” 

“So… Is that a yes, or.” His laugh blurts out when you throw a middle finger next to your head. “Okay, okay! You can just say it, you know.” 

“I just”—you spot check your makeup before vacating your vanity stool—“You know me. I never do dates.” 

As Hobi leans back on your bed, the way his hot pink robe matches your comforter makes you highly amused. Almost amused enough that you don’t react to his nosy question, 

“Nervous?”

Extremely. 

“Uhm,” you start, all pretenses dropping at the sight of his cocked brow. “A bit.” 

Springing up, your roommate pads over and rests thin palms over even thinner straps of your sundress. 

“What’s got you nervous, love?” 

Pouting, you look out your window before your chin is gently swiveled back forward. Thankful for his insistence, you confess to the only guy that you feel like you can trust, 

“What if I like him?” 

The laugh you get is full of disbelief and pity. “That’s what you’re worried about? Really?” 

When you nod, he chuckles again, but it’s smaller. And more understanding than the first. 

“Pathetic, right.” 

“No, no no,” Hobi starts, sliding his hands down to warm your biceps before squeezing. When he pauses, his expression gives his thoughts away before he can utter them. “Well, a little.” 

“Hoseok.” 

“But! Only because you’re making it seem that way.” He squeezes again before sitting back down on your bed. “If you just let things happen without thinking, isn’t that better?”

Does he really have to flop down to rest his head on his palms? Now? 

Talk about not thinking. 

Whatever. You didn’t expect Hoseok to do that, but he looks hot, so you’ll let it slide. 

And you don’t shy away from his silk-covered package before retorting, “Says you.” 

“Me? I overthink. That’s different.” 

“How!” 

“Don’t think about it.” 

When he winks, you both laugh, and his grin slowly devolves into a smirk before he motions you over with a mere head cock.

And you gladly oblige. 

Because your dynamic with Hobi still hasn’t changed. 

Slowly, you arrive at his knees before mounting the bed at his hips, being steadied over his pelvis as he keeps his prone position. 

“You look hot as fuck, you know.” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“He’s gonna like you for sure.” 

“Naturally.” 

“So what if you end up liking him, too?” 

As he smoothes a hand over the side of your ass, you purse your lips in thought. “Uhh… Feelings? I guess?”

“You can have those, babe.” 

“Not mine,” you correct, knowing yours are too fucked up to share with anyone. Which is exactly why you’re all for the so-called fast title that Yoongi clipped onto your persona. “His.” 

Does the lifestyle you chose come with regrets? Yeah. Complications? Also yes. But at least those hurt less than the regrets and complications actual relationships come with. 

You’re just fine with how things are. 

Which is why you’re scared about seeing Namjoon, because he seems like the type that wants something steady. If you end up liking him, you’re gonna have to choose between options that are vastly different in color. 

Despite all that, you still said yes when he asked you out at the gym last week—while you were drenched, bare-faced, and wincing from the last set you completed to failure. 

Why did you say yes anyway? What drew you in to this guy? 

“If you’re scared of hurting his feelings, then just tell him straight-up,” Hobi advises, pulling you back to the present. “Guys won’t know shit unless you spell it out.” 

Looking down at his perfect features, you fake disbelief, asking the most rhetorical question in existence, “You mean you can’t just read our minds?”

“Baby, we can’t even figure out our own, let alone yours.” 

“You said it.” Fully reassured, you rest on Hoseok’s chest, careful to not smudge your face on his clothes. “…Pity fuck if the date goes wrong?”

“Of course.” 

Your chuckle is soft. “Thank you.” 

“Now get up,” he orders, smacking your ass so perfectly that it offends you. “Before I give you another necklace.” 

“Hoseok!” When his cackles follow you up as you stand, your jaw cannot hinge back in. “Goddamn, you’re bad.” 

“Not as bad as you,” he says, following you out of your room. “Mami.” 

That goddamn nickname. 

Hobi knows it’s a common term. And he knows it’s one you hear from multiple people, especially on south side. Literally nothing new or groundbreaking.

But he also knows it makes you unwell because of one specific person. Because you confessed that you didn’t expect it from them during a fuck and it made you weak in the knees. 

Which caused the same motherfucker to say it over, and over, and over again.

Fucking Yoongi. 

Why the hell is it only potent when he says it?

The psychology of that needs to be studied yet you will completely refuse to be a subject. 

After checking to make sure you have everything, you fish out your phone to double-check the address before calling a ride. 

“Where is it at?”

“Some restaurant on west side.”

“Damn, all the way over there?”

“I’m okay with it,” you assure him, inwardly wincing at the cost on your screen. 

Virtually anything on west side is far from your condo, but that’s partly why you’re alright with going. As much as you get around, you don’t prefer taking people back to your place. 

Besides. No one needs to know where you live unless you really fuck with them.

And it’s only happened twice.

Hoseok’s unconvinced reply cuts your thoughts in two,

“Alright… Well. Lemme know if you end up somewhere else tonight.” 

Smiling, you offer him a warm look, positive that his lean against the kitchen wall would put models to shame. “I always do.” 

“What did I say earlier?” 

“Spell it out for him.”

“Okay, good.” 

When you grin, he does, too. 

And you hope this Namjoon guy at least does well with words. 

Turns out, he does a fucking splendid job with them.

At least, the things this man is saying has you absolutely melting under dim lights, and you haven’t even gotten your drinks yet. 

“You look damn nice tonight, by the way,” he mentions with a dip of his head, fiddling with his napkin and giving you an upsettingly perfect view of his fingers. “I feel underdressed as hell.”

Underdressed? Looking around, you feel like you’re the one that dressed way too formal and you’re in a damn sundress.

You should’ve known, though. The restaurant that Namjoon chose occupies one of the few streets known for its laid-back, easy-going fare. Even you have heard of its unique charm and you reside quite a ways away. 

Before you respond, you remember how you arrived, checking around the small space before spotting him in a booth. And while you loved the lax way he dressed, you were even more charmed when he got out just to greet you with a cheek kiss. 

And the night has been so pleasant that you forget to be worried. 

“Why? I mean, thank you, but why?” 

Namjoon gives his sweatpants-covered thighs a glance. “I dunno. You just look bossed up and I’m like, your errand boy.” 

Your mirthy disbelief leaks out of your grin before he can finish. Watching a nearby table point at their menus to order, you go along with his compliments,

“I mean, I could use an assistant…”

He only smiles at his hands. “Order me around anytime.” 

Cute. 

Maybe that’s why you’re drawn to this guy. 

Even though he’s huge and can lift like a motherfucker, there’s a soft side that he’s got no shame showing. 

Also, as the night goes on, you quickly discover more traits you rarely come across. 

Curious, suave, humble—all of them surprise you in the best way. He’s already let you talk much more than he has, and the two of you have debated on not one, but three topics. Including one that you would have left his ass for if you both weren’t on the same page. 

“Okay, so we agree.”

“Yes,” he responds in relief. “Definitely would’ve rethought this whole thing if we didn’t.”

“Uhh, yeah, because I would’ve walked out and let you pay for everything.” 

“Damn!” Fuck, his grin is charming. “And I would’ve paid it, too.” 

Laughing—and realizing that you’re doing that a lot tonight—you rest a hand on his shoulder, “No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

Fuck, he’s solid.

“Wait, I’m getting us this time, though.”

“Yeah?”

Holding a round glass up to his lips, he coolly adds, 

“And next time, too.” 

Well. 

There’s no way you’re saying no to that.

“To next time,” you offer, clinking cups and taking a nice sip of your wine. 

Things end with both of you just having dinner—a concept so foreign that it makes you wonder if he wanted something more than a second date. 

But judging by the times he kept stealing glances and the way his curve stayed at a slant, it’s an open and shut case.

It’s always a bit crowded in the front few rows, so it doesn’t bother you to hang back for the first time in awhile. 

Besides, you’re a little late from your date anyway. 

Since nothing else happened with Namjoon—he had to leave pretty quick—you determined that you could make it to another Gloss smackdown. 

After you greet all the people and bodyguards hanging around the front doors, you arrive downstairs just in time to hear the deejay ushering everyone in. 

And based on what you hear, it seems like Yijeong’s got extra volume in his mic tonight. 

“Alright, alright, let’s give it up for our two up here, yeah?”

Everyone cheers as you clap to yourself, leaning against a chilly column and ignoring the stares your outfit gets.

The stage looks quite different from back here, with its huddled occupants talking amongst themselves. While you watch both crews laughing and standing around, you wonder what it would be like to support Yoongi from up there instead of on the ground. 

You really would if he wanted you to.

“I don’t have to introduce either one but I’m gonna do it anyway. Cus that’s the rules or whatever and they both deserve some love. Give it up for my man K Shine!”

You aren’t familiar with him but you support anyway. A tiny whoop leaves your mouth as a big portion of the room shouts, and you watch as the guy nods to the people that came to see him. 

“Oh, we’re showing out, okay. Alright, now let’s hear it for my guy Gloss!” 

In contrast, your energy evolves tenfold, and you gladly yell with the rest of the floor as Yoongi stays piercing the ground at his feet.

This guy. 

Still the same routine.

You always muse that he could look into the crowd once in awhile, especially since his audience is steadily growing. 

If they ever saw his smile, maybe more people would be drawn in wait is he looking up this time? 

Wait.

Despite there being rows and rows between you and the stage, you don’t miss the slight shift in his demeanor. It almost looks like he’s scanning the people in front. 

What’s he doing? Is he looking for something? Someone? 

…He’s not looking for you, is he? 

You’re there quite often and always in the same area, but you didn’t think Yoongi would really notice or be checking for you right now.

…But is he? 

Before you can think any further, the quick blares of an airhorn shove your thoughts away. 

“K Shine, you win the toss,” the middle man on stage announces. Fuck, you think you’d know his name by now, he’s been here a lot ever since the first guy disappeared. “What you got.” 

When the man answers, he stares right at Yoongi’s hooded head, fire flaring up the walls already,

“Mister Big House, Big Car, Big Rings can go first.” 

Oh.

He—

You really fucking regret not being in the front now.

Immediately, the whole room ooh’s, with the middle man pursing his lips and giving the two opponents space. 

Light illuminates the whole stage as both sides back up a bit, heavy cameras set to roll and some feedback ringing through the musty air. 

And you wait with bated breath as the crowd goes quiet. 

Heart stilling as Yoongi holds a mic right up to his lips.

—

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tbc :))) 

—

so.. what do we think lmaooo 🦋 | join the taglist :D

a/n: thank you all for reading! as i don't have too much time to spend on fics nowadays, i'll be heavily considering feedback and excitement around fics to determine what to work on. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: all the names i’m gonna include that aren’t the members (or yijeong lol) are real life battle rappers! k-shine was one of the first ones i ever watched, and he has good aggressive delivery and performance but not too many heavy hitters. anybody i namedrop will have rap battles linked, so here is one of k-shine’s that i remember from back in the day. battle rap is an art form in itself, and i would like to showcase these talented individuals whenever i can.

++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist 

[equalheart]

when you call txt pretty boy

bf!member x reader, fluff © equalheart REPOST FROM HYKAI ⋆ ࣪. ୧ ♡ ୨ ִ ۫ ⁎ . hope you enjoy, any error please correct me.

♡ 수빈 (SOOBIN)

— "Hello, my pretty boy!" you chirp out when coming home, watching Soobin immediately stick to you like glue. His large hands came to wrap around your waist, enveloping you in a tight hug from behind. He really did miss you and had been waiting for you, and when you said that, let's just say you melted his heart completely. "Your what?" he asks, with his iconic smile on display. "My pretty boy." you smile, ruffling his hair while he bends down, his chin over your shoulder, to look you in the eyes.

♡ 연준 (YEONJUN)

— Yeonjun had invited you to watch him model since he didn't wanna leave you home alone today. When you got there, he left into a room to get his makeup done. You whipped out your phone and waited for him to come back. After a bit, he walked out and headed infront of the camera. Everyone was welcoming him and saying 'hi' as they passed by. You watched his every move. This concept was much brighter than his other concepts. It had more of a spring vibe to it? he looked like a garden fairy. When he went on for a break, he went up to you, leaning down to reach eye level with you—who was sitting down. "Jun, you look amazing." you comment, and he smiles at you, causing your butterflies to scatter in your stomach. "You're such a pretty boy." you add, and see his smile become wider while he looks away. "Heyyy, don't say that." he says, still looking away from you. "Or what? you questions him, and he chuckles, reuniting his gaze to you. He leans down and gives you a peck on the lips. "Nothing bad of course. but i'll make sure by the end of today, we'll both have this lipstick on." He says, pointing to his lips.

♡ 범규 (BEOMGYU)

— Beomgyu was 'sleeping' when you came back home. He had only put on this act only to see your response and of course, he wanted to scare you. when you see him 'passed out' on the couch, you smile to yourself and walk over to him. "Wow, I can't believe you fell asleep before me today. congratulations, Choi." you say. you figure talking outloud wouldn't be bad since 1. He's asleep anyways and 2. You are talking to him. "but you are so cute like this. What a pretty boy." you sit by him, smiling while shifting some of his hair out of his face. Beomgyu is trying to contain his smile, and his heart beat had become rapid. You always managed to make him feel like a crushing teenager. He almost broke out into laugher before grabbing your hand with a loud "BOO!" which, honestly, almost shook the soul out of you. You scolded him for startling you, which he apologized for by cuddling you and digging his face into your neck. "Y/n.. do you really think i'm pretty?" he asks coyly, and you smile knowing he heard you earlier. "Of course you are. you're my pretty boy."

♡ 태현 (TAEHYUN)

— Taehyun had taken you out for dinner right after a promotion for their new album. You both went out but since it was so sudden, he still had his makeup on. His lip tint was rubbing off, and his eyelids still had a bit of a pink sparkle to them. He was sitting across from you eating his food until he noticed your eyes boring into his face. "Y/n, what're you doing?" he asks, wearing his bright smile. "Just looking." You answer. "At what?" he asks, filling some more food into his mouth. "At how lovely kang Taehyun looks." you sigh out, looking down and playing with your food before grabbing some onto your fork. "He's such a pretty boy." you add, now putting the food into your mouth, chewing carefully. He looks up and smiles at you, pulling away from the table to lean back into his seat. "Yeah. I heard his girlfriend is pretty too, huh? a pretty boy and pretty girl together." He says.

♡ 휴닝카이 (HUENINGKAI)

— "You're so pretty, Kai." you say, smiling brightly at your boyfriend. He was amazing; the whole package I can't believe I just wrote that. "I know I am." He teases back, leading a small giggle to drop from both of your mouths. "Yeah, you're my pretty boy." you say, grabbing his face in your hands. You give him a butterfly kiss, rubbing both of your noses together before pulling away. You see his cheeks are glowing a dusty red, and you give him a kiss on each side.

[silverbirching]

So as some of you may know, I am... let's say an armchair-level amateur scholar of classical studies. @qqueenofhades can tell you how often she has to talk me down off the ledge of enrolling in an MFA program.

Like some of you, I was an insufferable twelve-year-old when Disney's Hercules came out, and all of my critiques of that film were down to "it doesn't do the mythology right".

Well, I've reached the point where I don't care about that shit anymore. Go nuts. Have fun with it. There are, however, some... History Tik-tok tumblr Bad Takes about Greek mythology that I have very little patience for. #Girlboss Persephone, for instance, or basically anything that insists on treating the Greek gods like people, whose behavior can be judged as more or less Problematic, rather than... symbols, archetypes, divinities.

I am happy to say that Kaos, while it obviously plays fast and loose with basically every element, captures the vibes of Olympus. The feels. Jeff Goldblum's intense, eccentric and fucking terrifying performance as Zeus, the flawless Janet McTeer as Hera, Cliff Curtis as Middle-Aged Jaded Slutty Maori Fuckboy Poseidon, David Thewlis' exhausted, depressive turn as Hades... all of it is GOLD. It has instantly become one of my new favorite adaptations. Like all good adaptations, it captures the flavor, the vibes, the FEEL of the original works.

Here's some of my other faves!

Gods Behaving Badly, by Marie Phillips - a goofy, fun little romp about the past-it and aging Gods of Olympus living together in a shitty house in London. A comedy, but it very accurately captures the essence of the vain, fickle, and usually stupid Greek Gods.

Circe, by Madeline Miller - I mean, I hope to God everyone has already read this one, Jesus Christ. Told from the first-person perspective of the Goddess-witch Circe, this book is an amazing re-imagining of one of the most maligned and studied characters in the Odyssey.

Hades 1 & 2. by Supergiant Games - I could write several thousand words about how much I love these games, which both revolve around the challenges of an immortal family that you literally cannot get away from -- and the way cycles of violence perpetuate themselves, even if the people involved CAN'T DIE. The depths of the scholarship on display there are frankly staggering, and they go DEEP into the esoterica -- Zagreus teasing Orpheus that he and Dionysus are the same person (which they almost certainly are, don't get me started on Orphism) springs to mind. Hell, the second game's protagonist is literally Melinoe. Also, Scylla is a boss fight and is the lead singer of a bratty girl group and sings a diss track about how your hair is a disaster. What's not to love.

... I do wish they hadn't made Kronos the God of Time. That shit drives me nuts. The words are cognate but not--he was an agricultural--ANYWAY.

Kaos is intense as hell, but it's fucking GREAT. And literally every frame is filled with Gays and people with different bodies and body types and various flavors of gender fuckery. It's great. Watch it.

[melancholicstation]

summer wine ( and an angel’s kiss in spring ) — bobby f. kennedy

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

summary: during a party hosted in light of senator john f. kennedy’s presidential candidacy announcement, bobby and you sneak away into the background and have about as much fun as a person can have at a political campaign celebration🍷🛌 …

tags: 18+, making love against a secretary desk, religious imagery, hair pulling, oral ( female receiving ), unprotected s*x, desk breaking

words: 1783

Sure, you’ll bite: a campaign celebration soirée for your husband’s older brother’s presidential ticket wasn’t exactly your idea of a rousing saturday evening but when jack tells you to be somewhere, well that’s just where you’re gonna be: at least that’s where bobby would always be.

It’s bordering on 2:00 am and you’ve just about tried as many old fashions and sidecars as you can stomach for the time being so you switch to a vintage choosing of dubonnet cherry wine.

You haven’t talked to bobby much all day which isn’t so out of the ordinary: evidently he was a man very much in demand. You’d just become to miss him as his frame comes into your periphery. A sight just calibrated for your oh so terribly sore eyes!

You smile and beckon him over, not unlike calling over an excitable puppy, he’s quick to start into quick jog. The squeaks of his leather derbies colliding with the teak flooring, but being quickly drowned out to all ears by the booming, assaulting volume of irish ballads playing from the far side of the gathering hall.

“Hey Sugar how’re you doin’? Has Mrs Bridges been hassling you about going that murder-mystery bookclub again I—by god I can see in your face, of course she has. How many times?”

“Three times” you say through breathy laughs as you fuss over the positioning of the shark-type collar he dons, eventually laying it flat against his collarbone littered with blonde baby-hairs like a garden of baby breaths.

“Three times this night or this hour my dear?” He says while responding to my incessant fixing and prodding’s by grabbing the hair from the nape, splitting it into two with hands much larger than yours, arranging them across your shoulders.

“Three times this hour” You move to lay your head across his collarbone but close was never close enough for you as of late, you would nest yourself in his ribs if you could tucked around his sternum. “Oh god, my poor, poor girl. I extend my deepest apologies that I wasn’t there to run interference: though I don’t believe it would’ve stopped her pursuits much” he says in a condescendingly charming fashion.

“Oh you’re really sorry” “Terribly so” “How sorry are you?”

“Well if you join me in the back I can show you just how deep my sympathies truly lie.” He exclaims in a tone that balances the intimacy of such an offer with a boyish-like spin.

The brazenness of his offer makes you giggle profusely, calling the attention to older couples who interact with their partners like they sleep in separate beds: so you don’t pay them much mind, a tell-tale sign that bobby’s one too many of the amortised wines served was his rare streak of promiscuity that would rear its head. Much to your amusement as his wife.

You scurry off little teenagers running to make out under the bleachers, you allow bobby to lead you as he’s more familiar with the event space than you were. He leads you into an abandoned looking secretarial office, with a hand curled around the crevice of your elbow like a devout would hold a beaded rosary, a loving kind of possession.

strawberries cherries and an angel’s kiss in spring…

You both look around the room quite impolitely in sheer curiosity: opening rusty drawers, flicking through empty filing cabinets until you both land on a particular item resting on the wall parallel to the door. A slanted front writing desk in a deep caramel tinted mahogany wood. A brass handle dangles in the breeze from the slightly draft coming in through the door.

Bobby and you both grinning and make eye contact: immediately moving to pull down the handle to woefully find it particularly barren: no secret notes or diary entry’s. Your face mirrors each other’s pout, as you try to test the sturdiness of the writing desk. To your surprise it holds its own under the full weight of your hand. Noticing this Bobby catches on, asking “Do ya’ think it’s sturdy enough?”

“Looks sturdy enough to me” you grin as you slowly back your behind up and onto the desk. Your legs finding balance resting on the lower portion of Bobby’s thigh. Slowly your Mary Jane black pumps start to find perch higher and higher on his thigh, eventually reaching the mound beneath his dress pants. You decide to tease him a bit and start to circle your foot around the mound, to which Bobby moans under his breath, shyly and throws his head back clearly overwhelmed. He lets you toy with him for a few short moments until you’re sure he had had enough, and moves to wrap your legs and thighs around the width of his hips. “Ya sure you want to do this here, y’know I could tell Jack we’ve had an issue with the babysitter and need to get home. I—I just quite feel disrespectful taking you in a place that has about 5 distinguishable moulds living in it. “Not that I don’t want to, cause trust me my girl I do it’s just—“

my summer wine is really made from all these things…

“Hush, I don’t care if there’s mould spors I need you on me this instance Kennedy. Depriving your wife! My I can’t think of a more disrespectful act can you Bobby?” You say in a bullish-yet feminine tone that immediately snaps Bobby out of his overthinking spiral: a good trait in a campaign manager not in a husband. Great for Jack, not so much for you.

“Okay—Okay I’m sorry baby you know how I get” “Oh I do now clear your mind of it this instance”

take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time…

“Totally clear” he says in a self assured tone as he moves to delicately remove his dress pants throwing them over the side of the large ottoman that most definitely has some form of bed bug inhabitants. Leaving him in his torn boxers: that he refuses to throw in the garbage disposal, holes that allow you to see the mountain of hair littered going from his belly button down to his significant mound.

In stark contrast he handles the undressing of yourself with the care and devotion of a man who knows his woman only has eyes for him, and vis versa. He neatly dissembles your outfit: a billowing ruffled crepe blouse paired with a pleated black skirt and flesh coloured tights. In his excavation of your outfit he uncovers the surprise you’d dressed on yourself for him to find.

Once he got you down to just your stockings he could see what you longed for him to find since you slipped them on: a bikini brief with embroidered lettering spelling out “bobby’s girl” on the front in lapis blue.

and i will give to you my summer wine…

Bobby’s face morphs into the face of a man starved: finally finding a dam in a four day trek through an unforgiving desert. The underwear is quickly pulled off and placed hastily into the pocket of his suit jacket, causing his pocket square to be slightly roughened up. To your surprise, but not shock as Bobby was always the kind to give before he ever received himself, got down on his knees and started to lap at your cunt ferociously: talk about a man starved. You’d heard the rumours of Bobby far before you had met him in the flesh, far before you’d married and had children with him: Bobby was thought to have been a ruthless character with the temperament of a caged pit bull.

But that wasn’t the Bobby you saw that day you met him for the first time, and it wasn’t the Bobby you were looking at now. Now he was worshipping, and at his happiest while doing it.

Soon enough you felt the inevitable wave of pleasure wash over you, and in that bliss reached for Bobby always wanting to bask in that with the man who made it all possible. “Did that feel good baby?” “So-so-so-so good Bobby you should have shed that humbleness with me a long time ago” You say as you soothingly ( for the both of you ) try to smooth down tufts of his hair, now severely roughened up, and clear away the luminescent substance absolutely coating the entirety of his chin and a portion of his plush, bottom lip.

But just as you get your wits about you, he starts to line up and invades you in the most decedent way a person could be invaded.

“Harder”

To which Bobby lays flat a hand on your chin, keeping your attention fully locked onto him as he bullies his large mound into your cunt at a solid pace but steadily increasing in fervour. As a cause of this the desk starts to rock. Continually ricocheting rhythmic sounds of the desk hitting the skirting of the wall over, and over, and over again.

“Dear God, you’re as tight as ever. You’re killing me” Bobby continues to praise how soft you are, how good you are to him, and how he can only aspire and yearn to make you feel as good as he does at this moment.

when i woke up the sun was shining in my eyes…

A mounting shudder creeps upon you like a ghost in the night, following behind you Bobby shudders and then finally stills, still sheathed inside you.

You both take a couple minutes to recoup which consists: of lots of handholding, reassuring, and kisses upon naps of necks.

my silver spurs were gone, my head felt twice its size…

It is only when you get up, as Bobby gathers both of your garments, that you identify a large split in the wood spanning from the hinges. You laugh at it half mortified and half impressed with the two of you’s strength and call over Bobby.

my summer wine is really made from all these things.

To which he comes over, observes the large spilt that definitely wasn’t there prior and searches his pockets. In there he finds a letter opener and to your surprise carved into the rich wood:

“Y/n and Bobby forever 1960-01-02”

the end.

[meowzfordayz]

they're-both-so-helpless

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~600

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

Author’s Note: starting 2024 off w/ Kyojuro❣️ Began writing this while at work… winter makes for slow days when selling ice cream. 😆 Pt 2 coming ~soon aka prob within the next 24 hrs since my shift’s almost over lol.

emphasis-on-helpless, helplessly-in-love

Missing your boyfriend is tough… especially when he isn’t actually your boyfriend.

“He might as well be!” Mitsuri says whenever she’s with you, “I swear you check your phone at least twice as often ever since you became friends.” The tips of your ears warm, eyes glued to the newest Snap of Kyojuro’s cheerful face. “Will you at least show me?” Mitsuri huffs, head tilting to catch a glance, “Aww, he’s so cute!” “But he’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, quickly snapping a blurry photo of your melting ice cream. Eyes gleaming, Mitsuri hums knowingly, slinging a giddy arm around you without another word. You silently thank her gesture of respecting your privacy—something your other friend, Shinobu, rarely does—hurriedly eating a spoonful of your dessert as he snaps back: You got ice cream without me?! ☹️ I fear I am mortally wounded. 💔 You appease him with a Snap of your own frown, promising him i’ll bring u next time 🥺🍦 pointedly ignoring Mitsuri’s smooching noises when Kyojuro fires back with It’s a date! 😁😋 Sooo maybe nobody respects your privacy.

You’ve never considered yourself shy, but you have resigned yourself to being perpetually friendzoned, a bit too person-next-door in a would-never-date-their-neighbor way rather than a person-next-door who also is-totally-down-to-date-their-handsome-neighbor way. Like puffing out your chest while walking on the sidewalk to convey confidence and get people out of your path, you’ve mastered the art of giving off don’t-fuck-with-me vibes — despite desperately wanting to fuck.

And therein lies the problem-not-actually-a-problem with one Rengoku Kyojuro. Also known as, Mitsuri’s favorite barista. Also known as, immediately flirted with you when Mitsuri finally took you to his cafe for brunch, writing his number on your cup and everything. Also known as, might not have been flirting with you and in fact was just being nice because he has yet to properly-not-jokingly ask you on a real-official-non-platonic date. You’ve survived a blustery autumn of pumpkin spice lattes and too many free muffins, persevered through a surprisingly snug winter of It’s my special recipe hot chocolates and ice skating with the gang (Mitsuri, Shinobu, Kyojuro, and his insufferable friend Tengen), and felt wistfully hopeful as spring came and went, having your voice compared to blossoming flowers and your smile to tender sunshine… only to dream alone, his contagious grin and addictingly cozy hugs lingering even as you woke with the sensation of tears in your eyes.

—

“You should tell him how you feel!” Shinobu sighs, an exasperated, endeared sound as she watches you bemoan your adoration.

“Oh yeah, because he definitely feels the same after a year of literally zero signs!”

“He called your ice cream plans last week a date,” Mitsuri chimes in, rubbing your shoulders as she exchanges a they’re-both-so-helpless look with Shinobu.

“Platonically,” you shoot back, sagging into Mitsuri’s touch, “He’s so gentlemanly and sweet, I never know whether we’re flirting or he’s simply being polite! Friendly! A friend!”

“I repeat,” Shinobu deadpans, “Tell him how you feel.”

You pout, chewing on your upper lip as you mumble, “And if he doesn’t like me?”

“Nonsense!” Mitsuri declares brightly, squeezing you—Owww—a little too hard, “He doesn’t talk to anyone else like he talks to you.”

“I talk to you differently than I talk to Shinobu. Doesn’t mean anything,” you grumble.

“I’m trying to uplift you,” Mitsuri huffs, playfully pulling on your earlobe, “Trust us. Okay? He would absolutely date you if he knew you were interested in dating.”

“Since when have I said I’m not interested?!” you wail in dismay.

“You’ve never said you are interested,” Shinobu quips.

You scowl at her as she tosses a good natured pillow at you, Mitsuri clicking her tongue as you squish the pillow against your sternum, heart aching when your phone lights up Rengoku Kyojuro sent you a Snap • 🔥.

[foundress0fnothing]

what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why

Summary: Elain and Lucien make a bargain. When it's time to call it in, however, neither of them remembers what it is—or that they made one in the first place.

Part 1/2. 4.5k words. Read here on ao3 or below the cut!

For Elucien Week 2024. Thanks to the organizers @elucienweekofficial for putting together such a wonderful event!

Title from Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem of the same name. So many thanks and hugs to @areyoudreaminof for betaing this and assuring me that the vibes were good!

By all accounts, it had been a perfect ceremony. Nesta looked beautiful in an elegant gown of ivory lace and silk and Cassian had gotten misty-eyed when he saw her. The two of them professed their love and fidelity in a heart-wrenchingly tender exchange of vows. They had commandeered the River House for the day, turning the front lawn into a lush expanse of trees and fae lights and flowers. There had been heartfelt speeches and strong drinks and delicious food, and now everyone was on the dance floor, celebrating all that they loved after coming so close to losing everything. Nesta and Cassian held each other as they danced slowly, lost to anyone other than their mate; Feyre and Rhys had left Nyx in the care of Nuala and Cerridwen, so they too were smiling happily (if tiredly) as they swayed to the music; even Nesta’s new friends Emerie and Gwyn had managed to make it to the ceremony despite all they had endured, apparently escorted by Mor and Azriel, both of whom hung closely to the females as they moved through the party, talking and laughing together easily. 

And there was Elain. Sweet, simple, quiet Elain, who, hovering at the edge of the dance floor by herself and looking at all the happy couples, wanted nothing more right then than a drink and to be miserable all by her sweet, simple, quiet self. 

No one had noticed her fade into the background of the party as she moved across the lawn, straightening the flower arrangements she had put together early that morning until she reached the doorway that would lead her back into the River House. She stepped through without looking back to see if anyone was watching. No one would be, but still—she didn’t want anyone to think her behavior strange if they did happen to glance her way. After all, there was nothing strange about her ducking into the house for a moment. Even if anyone saw her, they would forget her in a moment. As usual.

Once inside, she walked down the hall toward Rhys’ office. The door was closed over, but a quick push with her hip opened it easily. Rhys rarely locked it nowadays; the worst had happened and he still had his happy ending—why should he worry about an unlocked door?

But since he was the reason she didn’t have her own happy ending—not with Graysen, not with Azriel, not with anyone else—the least he could do was supply her with some disgustingly expensive alcohol of his to get through an evening of mated couples menacing her with their sheer presence.

He kept his best liquor in the shelf behind his orrery, and she let her fingers ghost over intricately wrought planets as she gently pushed the model aside to survey the bottles in his collection. They came from all across Prythian—ice wine from Winter, blackberry brandy from Summer, coffee liqueur from Dawn, fire whiskey from Autumn, honey mead from Day. He even had a few scant bottles of elderflower and lilac wine from Spring and a sloe gin from Illyria that she knew from past experience was better as an antiseptic than something to ingest.

Her eyes caught on a bottle in the corner. Its label was richly colored with maroons and browns and golds, and featured an illustration of a rushing waterfall in the middle of an autumnal forest. The bottle was mostly full, and the amber liquid inside seemed to burn with a fire that seemed to match the inferno Elain felt raging in her chest.

Making her decision, she grabbed the bottle by the neck and stalked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

She wended her way through the house to a small staging room that was just off of the kitchen. It was very rarely used—what use was a staging room in a house where the food just appeared with a snap of the high lord’s fingers? But it was lovely—the walls were painted a soft, muted green, and there was a comfortable loveseat tucked into the back corner behind the counters and tables. Elain had quietly, unofficially, claimed it as her hiding place, shifting plants and a small vanity a few favorite books into it until it resembled an oasis that she could retreat to when Feyre’s nosiness and Rhys’ highandedness and Nyx’s infant chaos grew to be too much for her to handle. 

And today, more than ever, Elain wanted some sort of escape. 

She flopped ungracefully down on one of the loveseats, not caring if the silk of her dress got wrinkled. So what if it did? It’s not like Elain was going back out there to try and find some male for the night. With her luck, they would all be mated anyway. Sighing, she pulled out the stopper on the whiskey and lifted the bottle directly up to her lips, taking a long sip and relishing the way it burned as it went down her throat—fire and smoke and peat and honey all at once. 

She waited until the sensation went away, and then she took another sip. And then another one. And then—

“You’re missing the party.” A voice from the doorway stopped her from taking another drink.

Elain didn’t have to turn to look at who it was. She knew his voice, and his scent, and his heartbeat, alluring and intoxicating and branded into the very marrow of her bones.

And she was too tired to care to guard herself against his pull. 

“Well done.” Elain finally turned to look at her mate, her eyes taking a moment to focus after she stopped moving. Lucien was lovely, she acknowledged petulantly. He was tall and surprisingly broad, facts highlighted by the close cut of the forest green suit he wore in honor of the festivities. His hair had been pulled away from his face in an array of intricate braids, and she noticed a few earrings winking at the tips of his pointed ears. Even the scar that cut across his eye, brutal as it was, only added to his allure and gave him a rakish look whenever he smiled. All together it was unfairly disarming, and Elain channeled some of her frustration into her tone as she continued sarcastically. “You caught me.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Another brilliant observation.” For a male with one eye. Not that she would ever say that to his face. That would be rude.

He raised an eyebrow. …Had she said it aloud. She grimaced slightly. Maybe she was much drunker than she realized.

“Do you want me to—should I leave?”

“Everyone always does.” She raised the bottle in his direction before bringing it back to her mouth and taking a long pull, deciding that the sharp sting in her eyes was from the burn of the whiskey and nothing else.

He hesitated in the doorway, clearly uncertain. Not that Elain could imagine why—it’s not like he had made any effort to stay in the same room as her before, always flitting off to see Feyre or Rhys or the humans he knew outside of Prythian. “Is it better if I stay?”

“Do what you want, Lucien.” Elain said it dismissively, but she saw him shudder as the sound of his name washed over him. 

“And what do you want, Elain?” He whispered the question, but she still felt it resonate inside her, the sound of her name and the offer of a choice foreign and familiar and far too exhilarating all at once. Half-consciously, she rubbed at her chest where the resonance felt strongest.

She didn’t want to let go of that feeling. Not yet, at least.

“Have a drink.” She held the half-full bottle out to him as she shifted on the loveseat, making just enough room for his larger frame to perch on the chair without having to touch her.

He sat down and studied the bottle, huffing slightly in pleased surprise. “I haven’t had this in years.”

Elain didn’t say anything at all as he continued turning the bottle of whiskey over in his hand, lost in the past for a moment. It wasn’t her place—and she didn’t trust drunk Elain to approach any revelations that prying might reveal with anything even approximating tact.

He roused himself after a few moments. “Cheers.” He took a long sip, leaning against his side of the chair and closing his eyes as the whiskey hit his tongue to savor the flavors. She wondered if it tasted the same to him—a smoky, peaty, cleansing burn—or if it was more to him somehow. 

Elain thought about asking, but he interrupted her musings with a wry, “Tastes like home,” and she snorted. That was her question answered, then.

She waved for him to pass the liquor back to her, and they sat in silence for a while, taking turns with the whiskey until only a few fingers remained.      

It was easy being there with him—a fact that Elain relished and resented in equal measure. It was nice and objectively the best day she had had in far longer than she’d prefer to acknowledge. But it wasn’t fair—she had made her choices about love. Twice! And both times she had ended up with nothing but hardship and betrayal and shame. 

And this, sitting and sipping whiskey silently with Lucien, was easy. Because he was her ‘mate.’ Well, fuck that, Elain thought petulantly. She was sick of mates. And how annoying it was that he of all people was the only one to offer her any kind of choice? Honestly.

“It’s just that,” Elain started, feeling the need to voice some explanation as to why she had been hiding and drinking, “I wanted a choice. And this is what I get.” She held the bottle of whiskey in her hand and gestured vaguely in the direction of the party before taking another sip and slumping against the arm of the loveseat.

Lucien motioned for the bottle, and she passed it back. Her head swum as she leaned forward, and she giggled at the way the room seemed to shimmer golden at its edges. 

He raised an eyebrow and said, before taking a drink, “We’re alike in that, my lady.” He swayed slightly, and Elain was glad to see that he was catching up to her. “What choices have I ever had?”

“That’s very bleak,” Elain chided him.

“Sorry, did you expect that this,” he said, gesturing to his face, “came from a happy story?”

“I don’t know the story.”

“Surely you’ve heard—”

“Not from you.”

He paused for a moment, thinking. “Another time.”

She nodded easily, happy enough to let the story remain unspoken. She did know it—or knew as much as Feyre knew, anyway—and besides, she didn’t want to push if it would disturb the peace that had settled between them.

But she was still thinking about bonds and love and choices, and so she asked, quietly, “Would you choose this?”

Lucien tilted his head, blinking to focus his eyes as he tried to make sense of her question. “Choose what? You? The mating bond?”

Elain hummed in agreement.

“It’s a mating bond.” He looked at her like she was stupid, and she scowled slightly, irritated at his answer.

“But you…there have been—there are—others? Right?”

“I’m 300 years old. Of course—”

“And that’s another thing!” She exclaimed, unsteadily pushing herself to sit upright. “I’m only 24! What time have I had?” 

Lucien snorted and took another drink from the now almost-empty bottle, muttering, “Enough time to fuck it up twice, apparently.”

“Oh, fuck you.” She shoved his shoulder and yanked the whiskey out of his hands. She was done sharing if he was going to be like that.

But she wasn’t mad, not really. The whiskey had made her brain a little too floaty to harbor any real irritation. And it’s not like he was wrong exactly. Although she was mortified that he apparently knew about Azriel.

He smirked at her as she settled back against her side of the loveseat, aware that she was more amused than angry.

Elain wrinkled her nose at his smug expression and titled the bottle of whiskey up to finish off the last few swallows. It still burned going down, although the sensation had dulled since her first few sips. She lazily extended her arm to set it on the ground with a gentle clink, and when she looked up, she saw Lucien watching her curiously. 

“Would you be ready?” He asked.

“For what?”

“To accept the bond. If you’re tired of being alone.” He said it casually while looking up at the ceiling, as if he had no real stake in the answer. 

She wondered if he was trying to avoid scaring her off. She didn’t want to leave—she was too comfortably boneless and warm and hazy to really want to get up. And where would she go anyway? It’s not like she had anywhere else to be except the party. Besides, she couldn’t fault him for asking the question—she had brought up the topic of them being mates in the first place after all. But she didn’t know how to answer him. Was she ready? Tonight had been…good…but still. “I—would you?”

“I don’t want it gone. So–I could be.” Lucien glanced at her and shrugged.

Elain rolled her eyes. “But are you? Actually?” He opened his mouth to answer, and she sat up, raising her finger in his face and cutting him off before he could start. “And don’t lie, I’ll know.”

“I have—” He paused and looked away from her again. “There are the humans.”

“Oh?” Elain studied his face carefully. He still hadn’t looked back at her, but she could see something fond and hopeful in the corner of his eyes and the set of his mouth. His next words weren’t a surprise then.

“They make me happy.”

She wanted to be glad for him, truly. He had found love—he had chosen love. But his statement made something jealous and possessive spark in her chest. He was hers, that jealousy inside her seethed. And she hated that he made her feel this way because of the stupid mating bond. But she was drunk and bold and pissed, so she bit out, with a tone that would have made even Nesta cringe at its coldness, “Then why aren’t they here to celebrate with you?”

Lucien turned his gaze back to her and frowned. “You know why. It would be…impolite.”

“Because of me,” Elain finished, slumping backwards into the loveseat again until she was almost horizontal. She could feel the brush of his legs against hers from where she had splayed them out to encroach onto his side of the chair. The feral possessiveness ebbed slightly at his acknowledgement of their bond and the physical contact, but she was still angry. And she hated how good it felt to touch him. And, gods, she wanted another drink. The edges of her vision were still fuzzy, but she needed something that tasted like fire going down and could burn away the angry ache in her chest when she thought of Lucien and the humans.

He visibly swallowed, and Elain couldn’t tell if it was from their touching or some guilt about the humans in the face of her anger. Her stupid, mate-and-whiskey-clouded brain refused to move past them, and so she probed. “So you’re here alone.” 

She must have sounded too pleased at that fact, because Lucien raised a judgmental eyebrow and smiled meanly. “As alone as you are, my lady.”

Elain scowled at him. “Well, I’m tired of being aloneeeee.” She let herself draw out the last word into a whine, savoring the petulant tone that she knew her sisters would have smacked her for if they had been there in the room with them. It had always annoyed them when she used it to get her way growing up.

And it clearly had the same effect on Lucien, whose judgemental eyebrow shifted into a full sneer. “You’re telling me that you’re tired of being alone? I’m your mate. You could say the word and not be alone today.”

She sniffed at his tone. “That makes you sound pathetic.”

He shoved her legs away from his and said, as she tried to avoid slipping off the loveseat, “I thought you were supposed to be the nice one. You get mean when you’re drunk.”

She smiled fakely as she kicked her legs back out, making sure to connect with his shin before letting her calves settle against his. “Just with you.” And, she thought to herself as he scowled and rubbed at what would certainly be a bruise on his leg, that’s what you get for falling in love with someone else but coming to drink with me. 

A ribbon of satisfaction burned through her at the spiteful thought, while at the same time, some rational part of her brain cringed. She hated how nonsensical it all was—wanting a choice and wanting him all at once. 

And then she had a brilliant idea. She had read about it in one of the novels that Nesta had left lying around the townhouse—a couple that agreed to come back together after taking time apart. The book had been silly but the plan? It would be perfect for them.

“Okay, what if,” she said, hauling herself to a more normal sitting position, although she mourned the loss of contact between them. “What if we made a bargain?”

Lucien was still rubbing his leg, but he asked, “A bargain? Why?”

“For each other.” He looked at her skeptically, and she huffed. “And they call you the cunning one.”

“How would a bargain—we’re already mates, Elain. We can just accept the bond.”

She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips again, but ignored it to explain, “But we would choose it.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Well, you’re not listening.” She leaned over to him and put her hands on either side of his face to draw him in close to her until their noses were almost touching so she would know he was paying attention.

But seeing his face like this captivated her, stilling the words in her mouth for a moment. His right eye, although it was a little bleary from the whiskey, burned with a fire in its russet depths, and the golden one seemed to glow lightly in tandem. From this close, she could count the barely-there freckles that were dusted across the bridge of his nose, so light that they almost blended into the deep brown of his skin. And his scar—she could feel the grooved edges of it under her fingertips as she held his face, and she longed to raise her hand and cradle the damaged skin—

“Okay?” Lucien interrupted her enraptured perusal of his face, confusion lacing his question.

She blinked back to awareness, quickly shoving aside all thoughts of tenderly holding his face or seeing how hot his eyes could burn if she just—no. “So here’s the plan. Because—I want time, Lucien. Time to choose. Time to get to know other males. And you have whatever it is you have with your—with Vassa.”

“And Jurian.” 

Elain frowned at him. “Stay focused.”

He snorted but stayed quiet, so she continued. “And this—” she waved her hand between the two of them. “Gets forgotten. But not rejected.” She paused for a moment, and then said, quietly. “It’s just—I don’t want to be alone. At the end of it all. If—if…” She trailed off.

Lucien scoffed. “If you don’t find anyone better? Okay, princess.” He started to pull away. “I don’t want to be your last chance gamble because you’re drunk and lonely tonight, Elain.”

“No—no.” She kept her hands pressed to either side of his face, squeezing slightly until he stopped trying to move and just scowled at her. She knew he could shake her off if he really wanted to, if he decided to go back to the party or winnow home to his humans and laugh with them about his silly mate who came on to him because she was lonely and couldn’t find love on her own like them. But she didn’t want him to think that it was him she disliked. Then he could leave if he wanted to, and she would steal another bottle of Rhys’ to forget the whole humiliating affair.

He stayed, so she said, “It’s not that. It’s not you. Obviously. Don’t be an idiot. I just—I don’t like the obligation of you.”

He rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Do you like the obligation of me?”

“Not at this moment.”

Elain scowled and removed her hands from his face to gesture at the doorway. She had said what she needed to. “You can leave.”

But Lucien just looked at her for a few moments and sighed. “No, I really can’t. Not if this might be something—” He stopped himself from saying anything else, and impulsively, Elain grabbed his hand.  

“I just want a chance to choose. I just want time. Not to give it up completely. And I want—you to have time too. To choose.” That was a lie—Elain would much prefer it if he just waited for her to figure it out, but she couldn’t ask that of him. Not fairly. 

He nodded, so she continued. “So we make a bargain. For time. And then, if we reach the end of the time and we haven’t committed—officially—to someone else, we do it. The whole thing. Accepting the bond, the frenzy, the big ceremony and the family and all of it. Because maybe the Mother or the Cauldron or fate or whatever was right all along.”

“How long?” Lucien asked.

“How long what?”

“How long until we call in the bargain?”

Elain titled her head, considering.“Ten years.”

“And if there’s no one else—”

“Yes. We do it. Mates.”

Lucien hesitated for a moment, and Elain let go of his hand to grab his face again. “Say yes, Lucien.” Saying his name felt like magic and music and possibility, and as she watched the sound of it affect him again just like it had when he first came in the room, she knew he would agree.

Was it fair, using his name like this to get what she wanted? Maybe not. But it felt right—a way to bind them together without taking away their choices. Elain only hoped that it didn’t end with a repeat of her situation now—left alone while he found all that he was looking for. 

She hiccuped slightly.

Lucien smiled at that and then nodded. “Then, yes, Elain. It’s a bargain.” He leaned in and brought his hand up between hers to cup her chin, a smirk dancing across his face. “And sealed with a kiss.”

He tilted her lips up to meet his, and Elain burned.

She didn’t know what she had been expecting—something gentle, perhaps? Courtly and courteous, even.  But Lucien kissed with a fire that reminded her that he was a son of Autumn, his lips blisteringly hot and insatiable, searing through her until she felt herself melt into him.

There was a brief spark of pain in her head, just behind her ear, but she ignored it, lost as she was in his embrace. It was bliss and agony and ruination and heaven, and Elain privately wondered if she would ever feel something quite like it again.

After a few more moments, he pulled away, breathing heavily, and Elain too found herself gasping as she unconsciously lifted one hand to her lips as if it could soothe the bruising ache his kiss left behind.

They stared at each other, blinking. And then Elain smiled. “Wait here.”

She ran back to Rhys’ office, ignoring Lucien’s confused shout as she left the room. This—the bargain and the day and that kiss—required a drink. She grabbed one of the bottles at random, not really caring what it was, and then returned to the staging room. Lucien had spread out across the loveseat, with one arm thrown over his eyes.

She nudged him and he moved his arm. “Why did you—” But then he saw the bottle she grabbed—the mead, apparently—and smiled, understanding flashing in his eyes.

“Move over.” He shifted slightly, but not enough that she could sit upright on her own side of the bench, so she was forced to sit between his legs, leaning back into his chest.

“Happy, Lucien?”

He hummed in response. 

She rolled her eyes, not that he could see, and pulled the cork out of the bottle, savoring the honey-rich scent that immediately drenched the air around them. “A toast?”

Elain took a sip before passing the bottle backwards to Lucien, who laughed, “To stupid bargains with beautiful women.”

“To beautiful bargains with stupid men.”

She didn’t turn around to look at him, but she knew he was smiling. “Whatever you say, Elain.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Elain found herself sprawled out on the loveseat in her staging room with her feet dangling off the side. Her head was pounding and her tongue felt cottony and thick in her mouth as she blinked blearily awake and tried to remember what had happened last night.

She remembered leaving the party and stealing Rhys’ whiskey, and then Lucien!—she glanced around in a quiet panic. Was he here? What had she said to him? 

But she was alone—Lucien had apparently left at some point in the evening, although she couldn’t quite place when, and so she didn’t have to face him and whatever alcohol-fueled nonsense they had said to each other.

They had shared the whiskey—that she remembers. And they talked about…something. And she could feel the ghost of some fire on her lips—the whiskey, most likely. But everything else was lost in a blur of liquor and warmth and … pain? Had she gotten hurt somehow?

There was a small, pulsing burning behind her ear, and Elain tentatively raised her hand to it. It was slightly warm, but it didn’t feel like an injury.

She hauled herself up off the loveseat to walk across the room to the vanity, hoping she could see whatever it was in the mirror. She angled her neck and swept her tangled hair to the side and—there!—she could just make out the silhouette of a flower tattoo behind her ear. 

Leaning in closer, she tried to make out the details. It looked like … a larkspur, maybe? But why—

And then Elain gasped and closed her eyes. A bargain. Drunk Elain had made a bargain with someone—Lucien? Gods, she hoped not—and because it was the fucking Night Court, she bore the evidence of it on her skin. It was a small tattoo, and  she thanked the mother that it wasn’t some giant monstrosity like Feyre’s arm bargain tattoos—at least she could hide this. Whatever this was.

[silviakundera]

I've seen you discuss this with other people but I've only made the jump from J dramas to C ones where it's mostly about romance and are c writers allergic women making the same effort in a relationship or... Granted I've only watched dramas from this year at first I thought it was just historical stuff but it's not it's practically every romance drama will love in spring-snowstorm-love endures-in blossom-double-shenli-royal princess-my boss-our interpreter and so on. If she's not outright treating him badly he's a cirque du Soleil contortionist trying to please her and she's not even in the circus don't they know balance is key to everything? Different dramas should have different bonds it's quite concerning that it's just one thing almost every time I think it speaks to a larger issue or maybe I'm overthinking it

idk what to tell you anon. It may simply be that chinese dramas are not to your taste and that's ok. I tried the occasional kdrama for years and didn't really fall in love with many... Most jdramas don't engage me. But when I tried a few cdramas it was like love at first sight. Something about the stories they want to tell, the themes they explore, and the characters they tend to portay just hooks me. And that's a very personal thing.

All I can share is that as a middle-aged corporate lesbian girlboss... a surprising amount cdramas have connected with me about how they explore a woman who is career focused & has to balance that with developing a romantic relationship and then maintaining one.

And when I'm consuming a romance storyline, what preocupies me is if I find it interesting, if the characters both feel vibrant & dynamic, if I can see how they might work together. Do their broken pieces fit? Can I see a path where eventually they can reach a point of mutual understanding, where both are fulfilled? Do I get their vibe? Do they have a unique vibe? Do I believe they like each other, as people? Or at least, do I see a clear path where they will be/have these things by the end of the story?

That's what dictates if I want to keep watching/reading a romance. Personally, I don't spend a lot of time weighing up perceived effort/favors and needing things to be perceived as "even". I would not want to date a person who thinks like that, because I find that idea stressful and off-putting! 🙈 If the people are happy, then they're happy! If neither feels abused & taken advantage of, if they're clearly content, then I don't need to calculate 'same effort' parity.

But that's just me! Everyone is different. And you don't have to overthink or justify what TV you like or don't like. Maybe cdramas aren't for you. That's all good. But please don't ask me to engage with romance this way, it kinda poisons it for me and makes things a bummer. 😔

I simply cannot say that I share your perspective. For instance, I thought Shen Li was a drama with a great otp who had priorities that did not always align but ultimately they ended up in a beautiful relationship with unconventional gender dynamics and in the finale they are clearly super happy & fulfilled together.

The Princess Royal isn't finished yet but lemme say their love in the novel is EPIC. Absolute one of the otps of all time for me. Better characters than most western historical romance novels I've read. If you look at the small stuff and try to weight who did this or that as a series of transactions, imo you are missing the beauty of how these 2 people took a lifetime of getting everything wrong before being ready for each other - but now they are ready, they are listening to each other and remembering to come back with kindness for each other and moving foward into a bond that's truly beautiful. Yeah, it takes almost the whole novel to get there. But IT DOES. No one loves Pei Wenxuan harder than Li Rong, sees the true value of Pei Wenxuan more than Li Rong, and no one will come to his ferocious rescue like Li Rong. I feel like I could cite 35 quotes to prove my point, it's that clear in the text.

a few of the modern cdrama couples who made me want to believe in love again:

Lighter & Princess - academic rivals to lovers to exes to ????, a drama that snuck up on me and slowly made me lose my mind. Best experience is to be unspoiled and thus surprised about where the story takes you. A long winding road, with some huge dips, before they reach a place where they have a beautiful hard-earned partnership. Makes me emotional just to think about them.

Hidden Love is a simple but beautifully acted tale about a sheltered & gently spoiled girl who falls in love with one of her older brother's best friends. Such a common romance plot but the execution is everything. The characters feel warm & real. FL's bittersweet young love tugs at your heart strings. I was impressed at how they crafted the platonic bond she forms with a lonely young man weighed down by financial & emotional family burdens, which later blooms into a mutual affection that enriches both their lives, and it all feels very natural. You really feel that their lives are immeasurably better by being together. Sang Zhi's protectiveness towards him is so !!!

Vid Rec: Seven by SakinaMv (who I've subscribed to for a long time)

You Are My Glory, which has a very silly sounding concept but ended up one of my fav comfort shows. Beautiful teen girl has a crush on the local school genius and asks him out; he politely rejects her, dismissing her efforts to connect because he can't see what they would have in common. 13 years later, he's a rocket scientist and she's become one of the top idols in china. She's at the peak of her profession but having a tiny PR mishap when caught repping a video game that she actually doesn't play. He's taking a leave from work as he struggles with the economic realities of picking a job that consumes your life but pays like shit. She's looking for help to learn this damn game & cover her ass; she still has his chat ID and he's online with nothing better to do. Once they start interacting, her crush on him returns & he starts to realize that that person he had discounted may actually be that confidant who can walk beside him? My dad was poor scientist who 'wasted' his intelligence following his passion, so I found ML's turmoil especially compelling. [Note: quite a bit of video game playing in the 1st half of the drama (as this is the driver for a celebrity and an unemployed scientist to hang out), then almost none in the second half]

Vid Rec: Stargazing by dramasaffair

Vid Rec: Flashlight by HânAlli (turn on CC)

The Road Home, a second chance romance of 2 people who come from rough home-lifes who fell in love when young but couldn't handle a long distance relationship. Then they meet many years later and try a long distance relationship again. I love me a couple who I can believe just get each other and make each other happier when they are together.

Meet Yourself - a slice-of-life story about a woman whose best friend dies, so she quits her job out of grief to go take the simple vacation that they would talk about doing but never got around to. And naturally she finds herself immersed in village drama and finds a soulmate (big city career woman goes to a small town and falls in love with small town boy is a HUGE american romance cliche, and one I've never enjoyed, so I was surprised at how much I liked this)

Vid Rec - MK916 can always be counted on to publish tons of quality cdrama couple vids

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Capitulo 2

credit @brekitten @bucketorandomness @hermit-scribe-vibe for help and inspiracion :D

Danny clamped his teeth down on his kill, at last a fish big enough that to feed the both of them, and which hadn't escaped. Ear fins fanned out, he kept wary of approaching hums of boat engines.It could've been only a few minutes, but to Danny it was as if hours had passed. He'd already failed Damian once, and for his distraction he earned a new gash or two from his hunt.

Danny startled when he came back. Damian had not awoken just yet, but the transformation was complete. Dark green scales enveloped every inch of skin on his body, soft from youth. Spots of gold scales like freckles gathered around his cheeks, and at the base of each of his fins and transitioned into full golden membrane with the faintest red along the tips.

And of course, Damian had no legs, none at all, replaced by the thick sinew and muscles of a siren's tail. All of this Danny knew would happen, and expected, but he never thought about how tiny Damian looked at the moment.

From head to tailfin, Damian's new height (or length?) only equalled half of his human height. Siren children were small compared to humans, for sure, but even Youngblood was easily a head or two taller than Damian at this moment.

Before he could ruminate further, Damian's eyes shot open. Faster than Danny could blink, the new siren launched himself at Daniel with a piercing shriek of a war cry.

Damian's talons gripped onto Danny's scales, and his jaw snapped down upon his shoulder like a vice. Danny yelped and fell upon his back and bent his sail.

Damian's tiny hands wrapped around the elder boy's neck. His tiny young face twisted into an honestly shocking amount of anger and agression. His hackles rose and his fins stood at full attention.

"Where am I?! What have you done to me?! Return me to my original form or perish!" Damian spat out in hissed clicks and chirps. Despite the situation, Danny finds himself thinking he had to be really upset if he didn't even notice the change in voice.

"Answer me!" Damian hiss and bared his teeth. Danny gulped, which was difficult considering the tiny hands vice-gripping his neck. Suddenly he realised he'd never had to comfort a newly-turned before.

"H-hey hey hey now, there's no need to get all murderous over here!" That was the wrong thing to say, because suddenly there was a katana straight for his neck. "Where did you get that?!"

"From my clothes, you buffon, the clothes that you violently relieved me off. What other untoward things have you done with my body? Speak!"

"Look I didn't do anything untoward to your body I swear! I was trying to save you!"

"You mutilated me! You kidnapped me and drowned me and now you clain innocence with nothing to prove such a notion!" Damian's grip wavered for a moment, and Danny realised something. This kid was probalby scared out of his life, and his shouting wasn't helping anything. The smaller boy's gills flapped open. His breathing laboured, heavily.

"You need water. You're not gonna survive long.

"I can kill you long before that point." Gently, Danny picked the child up by the waist, his arms far outreaching the boy's tiny limbs. "Unhand my you psychotic murdering wretch!"

Horns blared in the distance. Damian's body seized up, his ear fins curling in on themselves in Danny's peripheral vision. "They've caught up to us."

"Good, now it means you can be put to justice and I reunited with my father."

Danny coiled his tail and pulled Damian against his chest, against the boy's protests. "The only thing they're gonna unite you with is a scalpel."

"I said unhand me!"

"No time!" Danny uncoiled like a spring and shot into the water. GiW agents shouted above the surface. Danny held him tight against his body. Motors roared into action and echoed through the water. Sonars rang in his ears. But they could never catch up to even a teenage siren.

Pain rocked up his arm. Danny loosed his grip, and Damian slipped out. After floundering for just a few seconds, Damian righted himself and bolted for the ships. The speed at which he made for the freaking GiW shocked Danny. This kid was a human less than an hour ago!

Shit. "Where the heck are you going?!" Danny shouted. He wasted precious seconds turning around and doubling back. "They're not gonna help you Damian!"

"You cannot fool me with your temptations, siren!" Daman spat out. Then he did the absolute worst thing. He surfaced.

Danny's heart sank again. No, no, not again. He pushed through as fast as he could. Damian shouted something above the water. An agent in cold sunglasses aimed a gun at him.

Damian seemed to realise his mistake. He tried to evade the attack, but his strange body just left him rolling over in place.

Danny's eyes glowed blue. Seawater froze into ice in his hands, and he tossed the spear over water. The spear landed an inch away from where the agent was standing. In his shock, he lowered his gun. Danny shot forward. He grabbed Damian's hand and pulled him away. Harpoons flew into the water. Danny ducked and weaved through all of them and full speed. Soon they were far behind the horizon.

[hedghost]

A Comprehensive Rating of all The New Nike Kits that Literally No One Asked Me For:

starting off strong with England:

listen when i first saw this i was like hmm okay 😐, then i saw it on the players and i was like hmmm okayyyyy 💅💅

home is clean, classic - i like it. collar is a choice but i think it works, sleeves are nice, retro kits slay always - 8/10

controversial but purple as a colour in general sucks. however, i would barely call this away kit purple, the charcoal vibe is actually fucking sexy. it’s almost a grey kit, and a grey kit is almost a black kit, and i love black kits. love the pattern down the side, love the gold, my only reservation is that it looks like a training kit (specifically that ugly purple kit the lionesses had a few years ago) - 7.5/10

special shout-out to that eyesore of a goalie kit, i absolutely fucking love it

——

now Portugal is a serving us a game of two halves:

the home is… a kit. it’s nice, it’s clean, but it literally could not be less forgettable. it’s fine - 5/10

the away on the other hand - masterpiece. that pattern is actually gorgeous, colours are so cute, and it’s actually unique! love when kits have nods to culture/history- 10/10, stunning

——

United States - yea girl give us nothing!

listen the home is fine. but one word springs to mind and that word is boring. where’s the flavour? the flag collar saves it - 6/10

the away is absolutely vile i fucking hate that- 1/10

—-

France said how big can we possibly make our badge:

again home is fine. it’s nothing special, it’s clean, it’s whatever, it’s a home kit. i’m bored. however both kits suffer from the ailment of that absolute fucking monster chicken. why is it so huge - 5/10

the away is nicer. pinstripe is nothing to write home about, but at least there’s a little something something going on. again, the chicken is hard to get past - 6.5/10

—-

Canada gave us the classics

these are both nice kits. the home is proof that nike do know how to make plain kits that don’t look like they just stuck a badge on a primark t-shirt. simple done well - 8/10

again, the away is simple but effective. does look a bit like an exercise book, but that’s fine. sleek, classy, it’s a decent kit - 7/10

—-

Brazil proves once again that they know the meaning of cool:

listen, when the colour scheme of your team is yellow and green, you just have to commit to garish. this kit is an eyesore in a good way. this is not a great picture of the pattern but let me tell you it’s gorgeous. i’m not sure about this weird collar though, it looks fine on some of these other kits but idk it’s just not doing it for me here - 8/10

again, this away pattern is hurting my eyes just looking at it, but i like it a lot. makes me wanna go to the beach. brazil knows who they are, and you will know about it. nice colour, bit of fun! more fun kits please! - 7.5/10

—-

just like it’s football team, Poland’s kits are pretty forgettable:

yeah sorry poland i really don’t know what to tell you here, it’s just really fucking dull. the collar does look nice here, but other than that it’s really not saying much - 4/10

again, not much to say. this does have a bit of a cross stitch pattern which i quite like, but other than that it’s average. normally i like a centred badge but here it just looks like weird. think it’s too big. sorry poland - 5.5/10

—-

sorry Turkey, the only thing worse than boring, is being boring and ugly:

this away shirt makes polands kit look like the sistine chapel. i can’t even comment because there is absolutely nothing going on - 3/10

and yet somehow… the home kit is worse. i will never be a fan of a block stripe across the chest. the centred badge might have worked if it didn’t have a circle around it. boring and ugly - 2/10

—-

meanwhile, South Korea blew it out the fucking water!

now this is how you make a kit! take notes turkey! this home kit is literally beautiful. colour is stunning, pattern is gorgeous! 11/10 no notes

and it doesn’t stop there! black kits are stunning anyway, but this?! i adore it. so fun, so sleek. - 10/10

—-

The Netherlands just couldn’t really be arsed:

i fucking hate this. orange kits done well are beautiful, and this is neither one of those things. at least the players will be up to code if they visit a construction site. the colour is quite literally named ‘safety orange’ - 2/10

the away kit is alright. i quite like it, the patterns decent. the colours are nice. it does look a bit like a bus seat though. - 5.5/10

—-

China took the stripped back approach :

these aren’t my favourites, but they are nice. the home is classic, nothing fancy, but it’s smooth, it’s sleek, it’s smart. the sleeves are a nice touch - 6.5/10

the same goes for the away. not as nice as the red, but it’s cool. i like it. - 6/10

—-

Norway forgot which continent they’re from:

now i’m aware the home kit is unpopular, but i actually like it. idk it’s something different, it’s a smart little pattern, centred badge looks good - i’m a fan. i like when countries incorporate their flags into their shirt. it is, however, the flag of thailand. - 7/10

this is a nice away kit. it’s giving fjords, it’s giving glaciers, it’s giving norway. reminds me of the adidas wwc kits, and we all know how nice those were. - 9/10

—-

Nigeria only knows how to serve cunt!

this is nice. it’s giving me like early noughties vibes, with the font and the tick, and i’m a fan. i’ve never seen a bad green and white kit. well played nigeria, well played. - 8/10

i love black kits. i love green kits. i love patterned kits. and i love this kit. it’s a sick pattern, and it’s just gorgeous. good job - 10/10

—-

Croatia is… also here:

yeah croatia what the fuck is this? this home kit is absolutely atrocious. boring and ugly - 3/10

i honestly don’t know if the away is better or worse. just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. i don’t know, it’s alright. weird - 4/10

[burntheedges-updates]

Over Again - main post & chapter list

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming.

or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)

18+ minors DNI

key themes: alternating timeline (2000-2003 / 2023-2024), 90s/00s country and latin music and dancing, romance, family vibes series tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, romance, light angst (plus the angst of thinking the other person is dead for 20 years, aka the TLOU norm), pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), small age difference (reader is 26, Joel is 32/almost 33 when they meet in 2000), no use of y/n, teacher!reader (with vague details), smut (I'll update specific warnings for each chapter, but just FYI for later chapters: Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), a bit of manhandling and spitting, a lot of sex) (feel free to dm any specific questions) a/n about reader: I've paid a lot of attention to how the reader is described in this fic. I've avoided skin color, hair type, body shape/size descriptions, and even clothing (except for one or two spots where you are specifically wearing jeans and boots). You are vaguely shorter than Joel. He does not run his fingers through your hair, and you feel the blood rush to your face or your face heat, but you don't turn red or pink. Please tell me if you notice anything I missed - I want this to be as inclusive as possible. a/n: this is the first fic I've written in almost 20 years. this man, I swear. wordcount: 42.6k

This fic is completely finished and posted! Chapter links under the cut.

Read it on ao3

Bonus: Mix CD (plot related) & series playlist, with headcanons: here.

Chapter List

Five times you and Joel fell deeper in love…

Chapter 1 - Meet Cute - Jackson, Early Winter 2023 | Austin, Summer 2000

Now with art by the amazing @kittyoperas!!

Chapter 2 - Breaking the Ice - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001

Chapter 3 - Dinner - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001

Chapter 4 - First Date - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001

Chapter 5 - Staying Over - Boston, September 26, 2003 | Jackson, Spring 2024

… and one time you did something about it.

Epilogue: Together - Austin, December 2002 | Jackson, Early Fall 2024

Outtakes and Snippets

Canned Heat (Austin, October, 2001)

Preview/sneak peeks: fic preview | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5

[fully-automatic-ass]

Rating the OM! brothers' spice tolerance

another hc :3

7) Lucifer

come on. come on.

we all know this old bitch would start coughing at the very mention of salt. this bastard creaks like rusty fucking box springs every time he moves and you're telling me he can handle spice above a 0 on the Scoville scale? Impossible.

6) Belphegor

need I explain? (based off vibes)

5) Asmodeus

i don't really have any explanation for this. also based on vibes and vibes alone

4) Leviathan

idk, i feel the really hot cheetos (or the demon equivalent ig?) give him an edge

3) Satan

...yeah it's still just vibes

2) Beelzebub

He eats a lot, so I would imagine that he has a pretty high spice tolerance.

Wonder what his favorite spicy food would be?

1) Mammon

He really is first in everything, huh?

And, yes, I know Beel probably fits better here, but like Mammon's favorite food is (i think) the spiciest cup noodles in the devildom, so either he's a masochist or he has a high spice tolerance.

or both. whatever

[extremlynerdyfairy]

Someone call me Dimension 20’s MatPat, cause I have some INSANE theories to share!!

‼️⚠️Spoilers for Fantasy High: Junior Year (Mostly Ep. 13 and back)⚠️‼️

❤️‍🔥🔮🌹Theory #1🌹🔮❤️‍🔥:

Cassandra is in the court of stars?!

When Adaine goes to the court of stars, I found something peculiar in Brennan’s description of the interior of the place. He mentions how in the center of the room, there’s a MASSIVE rose that is surrounded by shimmering, indigo-purple energy. Who in this entire franchise has been associated with those colors and Brennan ALWAYS described their magic/aura having that same vibe?

CASSANDRA!!!

WHAT IF the timeless rose in the court of stars is one of the few remaining items that has some of Cassandra’s essence?

But that’s not the end of it. The rose is described a huge rose, right? You could even say it’s GIANT sized. If my phrasing wasn’t obvious enough, I think the rose might’ve had a deeper meaning/connection for both Ankarna and Cassandra. I googled it, and it’s said that roses usually bloom around early spring and late autumn. This means that PEAK rose blooming season could possibly be summer. Ankarna’s domain.

So there’s a possibility (or better said a hunch) that a possible old gift amongst these two forgotten and corrupted deities is in Fallinel. But considering the fact that a monument about the wedding is in Fallinel, I wouldn’t be surprise if the flower in question is what remains of a bridal bouquet (roses are traditionally associated with love and are a popular bouquet options for weddings…👀). But we’ll see if anything will from this crazy observation of mine.

👹🔥👨‍👩‍👧Theory #2👨‍👩‍👧🔥👹:

Who’s Fig’s REAL daddy, really?

I know this might seem like a bit, but I think it’s one worth thinking about. Usually Tieflings are just descendants of one mortal being and an infernal being. To my knowledge (and I encourage any DND buffs to fact check me on this), Tieflings can pop-up in a family tree as long as ONE of the bio parents has infernal blood or ancestry in them.

Now, why does this have to do with Fig’s bloodline? Gilear even stated in sophomore year that him and Sandra Lynn weren’t having bedroom fun before fig came along. Well I’ll bring you this question as a rebuttal: If Gilear was always aware to some degree about Fig not being his, how did Sandra Lynn get away with that lie for MANY years?

My theory is that Sandra Lynn originally didn’t know WHO fathered Fig since (and I’m just spit balling here) she probably had adult fun with Gilear shortly after Gortholax (probably due to guilt and making sure Gilear didn’t catch on to the cheating) and basically decided to wing it and after Fig started growing her horns didn’t hesitate to consider Gortholax the father. BUT WHAT ABOUT GILEAR’S DEMONIC BLOODLINE?! We recent learned Gilear is a descendant of Backur and we know that the curse attached to the Feith family is past on to the eldest of the family to the oldest of their children.

What if Gilear IS Fig’s bio dad AND that Fig being a Tiefling was because of Gilear being a descendant of Backur?!

Tbh this is a theory I’m only 65% sold on, since I’m not sure my DND knowledge is correct or if Brennan’s world even operates under those same rules. But it’s fun to think about.

🐀🤓😈Theory #3😈🤓🐀:

Kipperlilly, the rat grinders, and Ankarna?!

I know that the season is leading up to a final confrontation between both of these adventuring parties, but here’s the fun question to ask:

WHY? Why the FUCK are these nerds SO determined to have the Bad Kids eat shit?

Very simple answer. Conquests. ✨ACADEMIC✨ Conquest. We know the rat grinders are basically exp farmers and (in many ways) are dark parallels to many of the Bad Kids own party members (Buddy and Kristen, Ruben and Fig, Oshin and Adaine, etc.). And we’ve seen how salty they are (Cunt-head Bitch face, especially) at how the Bad Kids (despite many of them not taking their academics seriously) are able to achieve things the Rat Grinders think THEY deserve. And who was recently revealed as a goddess of Conquest? Ankarna.

But HOW would the Rat Grinder’s know about Ankarna?! Well… remember Lucy?

Lucy’s death is very much hinted to be caused by the other members of her party (tho, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s revealed that it was someone else, most likely Kalina). But WHY did Lucy die?!

What if Lucy was trying to pull a similar stunt that Kristen pulled in sophomore year? After all we know Lucy wanted to switch gods and the name on the paper for that switch within the school was blank. Kinda like the god’s name wasn’t found or couldn’t be said…like Ankarna. I 1,000% believe that Lucy was trying to bring the uncorrupted version of Ankarna back (similar to how Kristen brought Cassandra back from her Nightmare King form). How she found out about Ankarna is a whole entire debate (maybe from her original goddess or through research, we’ll find out what more episodes released) but we are left with one MASSIVE question:

WHY DID THE RAT GRINDERS KILL LUCY?! What could they possibly gain from killing their friend?! Well…what if the rat grinders didn’t want Ankarna uncorrupted?

Afterall, Ankarna’s corrupted domain (that of conquest, rage, and dominating over others) fits better with Kipperlilly’s need to be the best at the school. I wouldn’t be surprised if the rat grinders’ end goal is to use Ankarna’s corrupted domain to help them (mostly Kipperlilly) win the elections.

After all, Cunt-head Bitch-Face did make it VERY clear from the beginning that her goal is to see the Bad Kids get what they deserve (which is expulsion) for their lack of academic integrity; and, for her party (the group that has been doing things by the book this entire time) to get what THEY deserve. Absolute power over the school.

Those are all my theories! PLEASE share your thoughts. And remember, it’s Just a theory… A DIMENSION 20 THEORY!!!

(Note: I went back and fleshed out a bit more theory #3 because I was writing it at 2am and forgot to add a few of the important details of that theory 😅)

[shieldofiron]

Vibe Check

The Frat Boy Au, Part 2 - Rated M for UST

Read Part 1 on Ao3 or tumblr.

Billy missed this view. Their room is still only half unpacked, a wreck after they'd stumbled in after the first week of school party, but it has the most important thing in it.

Harrington is asleep, body flung across his bed, his shitty blue comforter bunched around his waist. The early morning light is slanted across mole studded skin, and his long dark lashes flutter.

As do the butterflies in Billy's stomach.

He reaches out with itchy fingers, flinging the comforter up and catching a tantalizing glimpse of Steve's ass in the light as he straddles Steve.

He smacks it lightly, playing Harrington's ass like bongos, hot under the collar when Harrington yelps, jolting for a second up into Billy's hand. He can't really resist grabbing hard, leaving a handprint behind when he has to pull back to avoid Harrington's swinging arm.

"What the fuck asshole?" Harrington pulls the comforter over himself like a chick in a bad romantic comedy, holding it over his tits.

"Wake up, Pretty Boy, we're gonna miss breakfast!"

"I'm hungover as fuck, I'm not going to breakfast!" Harrington flops back to the bed. "Did you hear that screaming last night?"

Billy grins, "Looks like Eddie's mystery girl stuck around."

Steve groaned, "I have to find my earplugs. Last year she kept me up practically every night"

Billy wagged his tongue for a second, "Come on pretty boy, get up, they're making the breakfast burritos you like downstairs. Plus we can see if after a YEAR of dating Eddie finally has the balls to bring his girl to breakfast."

Harrington just covered his face with his arm, "Give me 10 minutes. God, you're such a freak."

"I'll save you a seat," Billy threw his favorite letters over his head, snuggling into the sweatshirt's warmth. "Missed you over the summer, Pretty Boy."

"Missed you, dickwad. You better save me a seat."

Billy nodded, catching another glimpse out of the corner of his eye as Harrington threw off the covers and sat up. But he headed out swiftly, a spring in his step that had been missing all summer, even though he was back in Indiana, aka God's armpit, rather then lounging at Argyle's parents beach house.

Speak of the Devil.

"Ay, brochacho," Argyle threw his arm around Billy's shoulder. "How's the plans for pledge week going?"

"Ask me when I'm not hungover as fuck, Prez," Billy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," Eden is lounging in the doorway, already looking meticulous in dark lipstick and a full outfit. "Didn't you see how many body shots he took off of Steve?"

Billy just stuck out his tongue at her, getting a certain finger in response.

Argyle snakes an arm around her waist and tows them both forward, "Play nice. C'mon, lets get something to munch on, I'm starving."

The house is lowkey a wreck, even the dining room. Billy can vaguely hear Jason Carver whining down the table that they ought to clean up before the house cleaners got here Monday, just to show house pride. Before Eddie shoves the business end of a burrito in Carver's mouth, grinning when Carver sputters and spits. There's no sign of the screamer that haunts Eddie and Carver's room next door, only the two of them pissing each other off while joined at the hip.

The table's filling up fast, and there's more than one friend or girlfriend or hook up sitting while a brother stands.

"You better be sitting there to save it for me, dick," A whisper shimmers across Billy's skin, and he doesn't have to turn to see that it's Harrington. He knows him by the mint of his mouthwash, by the smell of his hair product, by...

Billy turns and smacks his own lap, "Best seat in the house, princess."

Patrick's girlfriend Chrissy titters nervously on Billy's other side when Steve just huffs in response, his free hand fisting at his side.

"Come on, Pretty Boy," Billy rubs his thigh, "Saved it for you."

Steve slams down hard, clearly intending it to hurt. But Billy doesn't mind, gets a hint of that hair product and mint mixed with the party grime of the night before, hidden under a freshly laundered polo.

Billy snakes a hand around to Steve's stomach, almost laughing himself when Harrington's abs flex under his hand. He wonders if he was puking up in their bathroom. He wonders if Harrington was making use of that morning wood that Billy caught a glimpse of.

He has to take a deep breath of that Steve scented air, curling his hand into Steve's waist while Steve ignored him, digging into his burrito with all the table manners of a feral cat.

It didn't matter how many times this summer he'd caught the perfect wave, or how many times he'd gone out with Argyle, or gone home with someone else. It was stupid, being stuck on a straight guy.

But that had been Billy's reality ever since he'd seen Harrington's big brown doe eyes blink at him during rush week. He was down bad, following Steve to Theta even though he'd been offered several other fraternities hungry to snag his excellent grades and prestigious scholarship cred.

It all didn't matter when he could barely think about anything else. Did he impress Steve? Probably not. Did he have a chance? Not one in hell.

But he had this, hand on Steve's waist. He had mornings sleeping next to him if not with him. Maybe one day he would think he'd thrown his college experience away on this.

He tickles Harrington, who jolted, slamming his knee into the table and glaring at Billy. But he's sinking into Billy's soothing touch, his spine melting a little as Billy rubs slow circles over his hip.

This would have to be enough for now.

[thebluemallet]

Pairing Every Bridgerton Couple with a Taylor Swift Song

Netflix finally made the official announcement! We're getting the third season of Bridgerton... but not until Spring 2024. A lot of projects got delayed due to the strikes, so I'm not that surprised. And since I'm bored and it's been a while since we've had any Bridgerton content, here is every major Bridgerton couple paired with a Taylor Swift song.

can't wait for all the comments telling me why all the songs i picked were wrong.

Kate and Anthony- Lavender Haze

I honestly don't have a good reason for choosing this specific song for them beyond "vibes" and "purple was a big color for them in their season." Other songs that could fit them seemed a little too melancholy compared to their happy ending at the end of season 2, so I'm sticking with Lavender Haze.

Benedict and Sophie- Enchanted (Taylor's Version)

The obvious choice for them would be Enchanted since their love story is basically a Cinderella story and the song has some major Cinderella vibes. There are two runner-ups since book!Benedict is a bit of a fuckboy: White Horse (Taylor's Version) and All Too Well (10 Minute Version). Since show!Benedict is more charming and less of a fuckboy compared to the book, the other choices should become irrelevant in his season. (God, I hope they're irrelevant in his season).

Colin and Penelope- Love Story (Taylor's Version)

This one's easy: Love Story. They've known each other since they were young. They're both writers of stories. Penelope has built up this idealistic version of Colin for years now and this song definitely sounds like it was written by someone younger with a more idealistic look on love and romance. The runner-up for these two is You Belong With Me (Taylor's Version).

Daphne and Simon- Wildest Dreams (Taylor's Version)

Is it cheating to pick the one that was used in the show? No? Then Daphne and Simon are Wildest Dreams. A good runner-up for them would be Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version). Specifically in the show when Simon tries to distance himself from Daphne in episode 3.

Eloise and Phillip- Lover (First Dance Remix)

I wasn't expecting to have as much trouble as I did trying to pick out a song for these two. I finally landed on Lover (First Dance Remix). In the books, Eloise puts off getting married for a while because she wants a love story as romantic as Benedict's. And this remix of Lover has some added strings that made me think of the string covers in the show and they added a more wistful feel to the song that you don't get with the original.

Bonus Couple- Francesca and John- Timeless (Taylor's Version)(From the Vault)

She's the only Bridgerton sibling to be married twice and yet I feel like John is easily forgotten. But not on this list!

John and Francesca's love story is cut tragically short, leaving Francesca a young widow. And she mourns him for years before she decides to try to find a husband again. She probably spent those years thinking over what could have been had John lived. So the nostalgia of Timeless (TV) (FTV) seems fitting for the two of them.

Francesca and Michael - This Love (Taylor's Version)

The line "Currents swept you out again" immediately had me thinking of Michael sailing away from England for years right after John's death and how that affected Francesca. Then he finally returns just when Francesca has decided she's ready to get married again. "This love came back to me."

Gregory and Lucy- Speak Now (Taylor's Version)

I don't think it gets any more Gregory/Lucy than making a scene at a wedding. Your honor, I rest my case.

Hyacinth and Gareth- Paper Rings

Paper Rings for the simple fact that Gareth, when he first meets Hyacinth, has nothing to offer in terms of wealth and riches. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but she's the only Bridgerton sibling/in-law that got an actual proposal in the books, right? The rest of them just kind of got compromised into marriage. So she gets this song.

(I almost picked this song for Colin and Penelope while Hyacinth and Gareth nearly got Love Story.)