#feat. the worst background

[rhodesian-ridgefake]

😛

[queers-gambit]

Silence

prompt: ( requested ) anxiety plays tricks on your mind, making you mistake your boyfriend's stress for anger - at you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.5k+

note: it's short but to the point.

warnings: cursing, hurt and comfort, depiction of mental health: anxiety, slight self-destructive thoughts.

Silence could be a good thing.

Libraries were silent for ample focus. Theaters were silent during the showing. Sometimes, long drives were peacefully silent.

Silence could also be a bad thing.

Demanding an explanation and the silence stretches. The silence before a doctor delivers life-changing news. Asking someone if they're okay and they don't answer.

When your boyfriend, Carmy, had returned from work that evening, he slammed the front door, dropped his backpack, toed out of his shoes, and stormed around the apartment silently. He didn't greet you, didn't offer a kiss, nothing - just breezed past you as if a pile of dirty laundry he's ignored for the past two weeks. You watched him from the kitchen, sipping a glass of wine, worry sprouting in your gut and chest. It was obvious something was bothering him - but couldn't fathom what it was that made him ignore you; to make him not look at you one single time.

It was like you weren't even there with the way he projected his moodiness. Even on his worst days, he always always always greeted you with a kiss; but the lack of affection hallowed your chest into a pit, wondering what you had done to make him avoid you.

Suddenly, the silence was eerily deafening, coiling your stomach and pumping lead through your veins; no TV or radio switched on to fill the void and create passive, background audio. Carmy was obviously upset about something, but the fact that he didn't even look at you made you think he didn't want to talk. This worried you because before dating, you and Camry Berzatto were the best of friends; talking about literally any and everything you could think of. He came to you with every single grievance, every frustration, every slice of drama - so why wouldn't he now?

Unless... Unless you were the cause of his annoyance? The idea made the pit in your chest stretch to your gut - anxiety rapidly spreading, confusion warping rational thought into something darker and self deprecating. The idea of upsetting Carmy - or anyone, for that matter - was enough to bubble nausea and turn your skin clammy. Muscles tensed, eyes darted, and your mind was plagued with every single thing you had said or done in the past 16 hours.

However, your memory couldn't pinpoint any moment you could've upset him; things had been normal and easy-going lately, there being no clear indication you were the culprit of Carmy's anger. However, there didn't need to be anything clear because your mind was fully convinced you were the bad guy now.

After swallowing a gulp of wine, your eyes adverted to give him privacy and begin on dinner; being obvious that his phone was much more important than you right now. Unfortunately, when it came to picking which sauce to dress your meal with, you were forced to slowly enter the living room where your boyfriend had taken refuge.

"Hey, baby?"

"Hmm?"

You tried not to be offended by his lack of verbal acknowledgement, but your intestines flipped and grew heavy. "Uh, just wondering, you want the marinara or Alfredo tonight with the - "

"Doesn't matter, you choose."

"I mean, which would you prefer?"

"I just said it didn't matter," he repeated with a hardening tone, "it's not like it's a difficult decision to make."

You didn't want to make his attitude worse, so you backed off silently and returned to your task. Yes, yes, Carmy was the professional cook between you but that didn't mean he wanted to come home and continue the act. So, you learned a few new recipes to keep meals interesting - a feat your boyfriend didn't seem to appreciate or even recognize most days. Tonight especially.

Tension tangibly filled the apartment the longer the silence stretched. Your mind conjured a hundred questions at once, begging your mouth to run rapidly if it meant getting answers - yet your logic stuck the words in your throat, refusing to let them fly, and even shoving them deep down for your soul to hold.

You poured a second glass of wine, throat thickening with silent emotion. There was always the worry in the back of your mind that Carmy would one day realize you didn't fit into his life and would break up with you. Or that perhaps, his irritation tonight wasn't due to anything you did specifically, but instead, was attested to your normal behavior and quirks - like the want to talk throughout the day.

Blinking the moisture away, you remembered Carmy hadn't answered a single one of your texts the entire day - a normal act for you, but maybe one that now got on your boyfriend's nerves. You dished up dinner, standing in the open kitchen with two plates and feeling silly for the nerves prickling your skin. You barely noticed the slight tremor in your hands. "Dinner's ready, Carm," you alerted, leaving the plates on the kitchen island you normally ate at; distracted by the need to pour a glass of water.

When you turned, your heart stalled in your chest when you noticed his plate missing - locating him in the living room, again, and it being obvious he didn't intend to eat with you. Now you knew for sure, you had indeed done something. So, you gingerly took a seat and tried to take up as little space as possible; shying in on yourself, eating silently and quickly so you could do the dishes right after.

Sure, there was usually the rule that the cook didn't clean, but there was no way you were gonna ask Carmy to do the simple chore; afraid of pushing him over whatever edge he teetered at. After storing any leftovers, you started the dishwasher and retreated to your bedroom with another glass of wine and the intention to get a bath. You felt like a glaring inconvenience all of a sudden, regret inking your blood and reprimanding yourself for being so - so - so... Clingy?

Is that what it was? Did Carmy think you were clingy? Perhaps texting him throughout the day without him ever answering was the final straw of annoyance he felt toppled the haystack. You wanted to apologize and eliminate the tension, but couldn't necessarily understand what you were sorry for; thinking you were simply paying attention to him, being attentive and interested in his everyday life.

Maybe you needed to apologize for being suffocating? Was that it? Your love was suffocating him? Was he feeling pressured by you? Did he think you two too comfortable in this relationship? Was your wall of texts an indication you were more serious than he? Oh, God, was that it - did Carmy think you were getting too serious, too fast?

Granted it'd been a few years of dating, a lifetime of friendship before that - so how much more serious could you get? Why would your attempts of communication rub him the wrong way? How could the pair of you ever manage to fall off from the same page? Make him think you were pushing for something more? Didn't he know he was enough for you? Didn't he appreciate your presence? The want to be closer? Your desire to maintain the friendship your relationship was built off of? The appreciation you had for him? The support you wanted to offer?

You soaked in epsom salt for the better part of half an hour. Draining the tub, drying off, and changing into pajamas were done silently; feeling almost fearful to venture out of the bedroom to return your wine glass to the sink.

So you decided to just get in bed, figuring if Carmy was so angry at you that it resulted in him ignoring you, he wouldn't want to sleep beside you, either. With your thick framed glasses on, you nestled into bed with your newest novel, trying not to let your mind go into overdrive as your need to fix whatever was upsetting Carmy was overwhelming. Yet there was also the nagging idea that trying to fix whatever was 'broken' would've made things worse - again, resulting in you doing nothing and giving Carmy his space.

The silence haunted the apartment like a ghostly presence; leering over your heads, embracing you uncomfortably.

When the bedroom door opened, you masked your surprise and just read the same paragraph three times in a row - distracted by your boyfriend milling around, preparing for bed. Your eyes widened in shock when the bed dipped and shifted, jostling you as Carmy got into bed beside you, but you still didn't look up from your book.

"What're you reading, sweetheart?"

His mood swings often gave you whiplash. You glanced at Carmy, finger holding your place to let you fold the book over and present the title on the cover. You worried that anything you said and did could make this tension fester, so, you remained silent and went back to reading.

"Is it any good?" He pondered, watching your profile. You nodded mutely, lips slowly rolling between your teeth in a show of anxiety Carmy could now recognize. "Hey, hey, you all right, babe?" He asked softly, sounding mildly confused - perhaps even alarmed.

"Yeah, 'course," you mumbled.

"Well, how was work?"

"Fine."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

There was a brief pause, then Carmy gently pried, "C'mon, baby, what's wrong? Why're you so quiet?" He chuckled gently, "Usually so talkative in the evenings."

You offered him a bewildered look with slightly pinched brows, swallowing nervously and slowly shutting your book to trace the spine mindlessly in an effort to distract yourself. Typically when anxious, your hands needed stimulation, something tangible to do and feel when your mind numbed with nervousness.

With a great deal of bravery, more than you thought was necessary to muster when talking to the person you love, you asked softly, "Are you mad at me, Carm? I mean, did I do something? T-To upset you?"

"Wait, what?" He asked in confusion. "Nah, baby, you didn't do anything, why would you even ask?"

"'Cause you've been ignoring me...?"

He scoffed, "Ah, 'cause I didn't answer your texts?"

"That, and you've been ignoring me in favor of your phone since you got home. Slamming doors, brooding in the living room, didn't eat dinner with me - got a little snappy when I asked what sauce for dinner? Feels like I did something but I don't know what, so I don't know how to fix this."

Carmy sighed, leaning back to the mound of soft and fluffed pillows you had stacked on your shared bed. "Shit," he breathed, huffing a dramatic sigh, "didn't even realize I was doin' all that, baby."

"If you're mad, just tell me what I did - "

"No, no, hey, hey, hey, hey," he rushed, turning on his side to look at you, elbow supporting his weight; clocking the glassiness coating your eyes. "You didn't do anything, baby, I swear. There's nothing for you to fix 'cause you didn't do nothin'. I just - I've been havin' a shit day, didn't realize I was bein' mean to you let alone that you'd take it to heart."

"Kinda hard not to when I'm the only one here."

"No, right, I get that," he sighed. "I'm sorry, baby, I know you get anxious when I shut down like that, but I promise, I'm not mad at you."

"Well, who else would you be mad at? I thought you were annoyed 'cause I was texting you all day. Thought I was, I don't know, being clingy or something since you didn't answer me."

Carmen frowned, "Sweetheart, no, hang on, listen to me. You didn't do anything to upset me, okay? I didn't answer you 'cause I dropped my phone in the sink and it got all glitchy, I couldn't answer you. I tried to fix it when I got home, but I think I fried it - should just get a new one. It was just one of those days that everything went to shit, it all built up, got the better of me."

You nodded, still looking dejected and making a shot of guilt plunge his heart. "You usually talk to me when you're upset," you pointed out softly, "and when you didn't say anything, I thought I was the reason you were upset. Figured you wouldn't talk to me if I did something to cause your attitude."

"No, hey, I'm sorry, c'mere, baby," he opened his arms and curled them around you when you shuffled into his chest. "Shit, I'm really sorry, I didn't even realize what I was doing - but Goddamnit, that's no excuse, though. I don't mean t'take my shit out on you, you don't deserve that."

"I just got a little nervous, maybe let my anxiety get the better of me."

"That's okay," he promised, kissing your forehead, "I can understand why. I was a dickhead, being snappy and ignoring you when all you do is support and love me. I'm real sorry, sweetheart," he sighed against your skin, tightening his arms to keep you cocooned in his warmth. "You know, you can always talk to me - don't gotta shut yourself down and avoid me."

"Do you even hear yourself? Should take your own advice."

"Yeah, I should," he smirked. "Hey, promise I'll do better not to shut down like that."

You nodded in acceptance, wondering softly, "Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever happened today?"

"Uh, nah, you know what? Think I owe you some cuddles, maybe a dessert? You know, to make up for my bullshit attitude."

"You don't have to - "

"I got you all worked up, feels like the least I can do."

With a hum, you smirked, "I won't say no to a slice of cheesecake."

"What baby wants, she gets," he grinned, a hand caressing your cheek to direct your eyes up to his. His thumb swept back and forth under your eye, "Still sorry about today. I didn't mean to be such an oblivious dickhead, I swear."

You nodded, "I know, baby. Just don't shut me out next time. Had me worried when you didn't even kiss me when you got home."

"A heinous crime on my part," Carmy smirked. "Should I remedy that?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't."

He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours in a soothing kiss, hand sliding to the back of your neck. It was a slow and languid kiss, something he took his time in engaging; lips sticking together, moving in-sync, creating chains of saliva when he pushed his tongue against yours. "Yeah," he mumbled, "I'm the dumb fuck who had you thinkin' I didn't want this from you." He pressed another kiss to your waiting lips, "You're intoxicating, baby - always want your kisses. Yeah? Always. The day I don't, take me out back like Old Yeller."

You wanted to voice that he wanted your kisses now until one day, he simply wouldn't - but refrained from doing so because you knew it was just anxiety talking. So, instead, you chuckled at his comment and leaned in to initiate your own kiss.

requesting rules and masterlist

FX's The Bear masterlist

[n0tamused]

Could I request Dr Ratio's s/o defending him when people insult him (calling him a boring lover and a man of loose morals)?

A/n: This request was long coming, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless! Dr. Ratio defense squad, assemble! I feel a little rusty writing this, so I hope it's all good :,)

Contents: Veritas Ratio x GN!Reader, fluff, headcanon format

Words: 1163

-It is well known that Dr. Veritas Ratio is well known throughout the entire cosmos for his feats, but however good or grand those accomplishments may be, not everyone looks at them fondly

-Not to mention that one particular hater he has noticed posting about him for 10 years, without a stop? He honestly admires their persistence. It takes a lot to be a hater too y’know

-There was a time where even Veritas wasn’t made of tougher skin, when the comments really did get to him; thankfully, he had the patience and pride to get him through without publicly reacting in a way that would only fan those flames further. Still, some words have left their mark on him - even diamonds can suffer scratches and cracks

-You, as his partner, naturally knew of these things. You’ve picked up on them from the things he has told you and from his body language when put in certain situations. And when you did openly ask him about it, although he appears stiff, he did not lie to you in private

-Knowing his innermost opinions and his background was, probably, what drew you to be particularly defensive over your the plaster-head-donning professor. They were all so quick to judge, yet none of them took a moment to think how much hard work it actually took for Ratio to reach the position he was in now. Knowledge does not fall into your hands, you have to work for it.

-And one day, this inner justice seeker had gone short of patience. The academy was always filled with wandering students and professors alike, all chattering among each other during breaks. And you just happened to pass by a couple conversing about him. 

-Ears perked and focused on the little group, you heard them speak rather unsavory words about a professor. Words ‘hard exam, unpassable, books that were too thick and chalk being thrown’ were all mentioned in their conversation, and it truly didn’t take a genius to figure out who the person in question was. Then they began to throw out insults they wouldn’t dare speak in front of another professor, let alone Veritas. But worst of all, they touched upon the subject of his relationship, your relationship, making such wild claims you had to wonder whether they were really talking about Veritas or someone else. Even worse - since it can always get worse - an assistant professor joined in on this gossip, spilling a “fact” that he even had other lovers than you and that he had loose morals.

-WHAT?

-Feeling your blood boiling and teeth grinding together, you couldn’t hold it within yourself. It was wrong! Ratio worked for his place and knowledge and pay, and sure - his exams and classes were tough, but he was neither a bully or an unjust professor! 

-That little group heard you loud and clear, and one did try to argue back but was quickly silenced. And one tried to walk away - you didn’t let that happen either. The people close around stopped and gaped, and perhaps they saw similar or shared characteristics between you and Veritas, maybe that’s why they also didn’t feel brave enough to keep talking or leave before you’re done. Who is to say? But what’s true is that they listened to you. 

-As you were getting to the end of your speech of defense, a familiar figure walked out of one of the classrooms close by. Clearing his throat he sent you a look, ‘enough’ he said without a word, but he was not angry. The students were dismissed after he feigned ignorance to the situation, as if he hadn’t heard a peep outside of those four walls of the classroom. 

-”I am done for today, have you wanted something of me? Anything you need?” 

-He spoke calmly, but his eyes showed some softness you barely ever saw. It was a rare sight, a look reserved for when he looked at you in bed, having you in his arms or when you held him, when he told you he wasn’t staring or being ‘too sappy’, but he was just looking at you, perhaps even admiring ‘if he may be so bold as to say that’.

-”A walk would be nice, I even got us a spot at that restaurant for lunch”

-And so it was. The walk towards the location was unusually quiet, and somewhere along the way he uttered “You shouldn’t have caused such a scene in the hallway”, his tone once more lacking the anger many expected of him. 

-”I should have, and I did. They were being rude and such behaviour is not fit for any student” You have been a student once, and there were terrible professors and your own opinions of them had been sour at some points in time, sure, but to openly spit venom? That was ridiculous. Or were you perhaps being stubborn, hypocritical? You wouldn’t say so. They were being rude, period.

-”They are students, they are also young. Gossip, however much unsavory, and however much I do not like it, is natural for them. It is not something that needs to be challenged, especially in a situation like this”

-You gave him an unsatisfied look, and he returned it in equal measure. It would take a while to convince him.

-”It doesn’t matter.. I did what I did, because I had enough of hearing people spread lies about you.. Disagree with me as much as you wish, but I’d do it again”

-He sighed and shook his head. He wanted to say something more, but for once he chose to keep quiet. It was better to leave it be as you were still not cooled off from the encounter 

-The rest of the evening went well, and you touched upon the subject briefly, not going too in depth. Ratio told you about his day, the upcoming events and plans, and you told him about yours. It was enjoyable, and it certainly helped to calm you both down

-But once you both came home and changed into more leisure wear, you told him of the thorn you felt whenever people spoke badly about him. He only looked at you, told you he understand, but “My name has been through a lot, I can take it”

-You weren’t sure if you wanted to slap some sense into him or kiss your reasons into his skin. He may be used to it, but you weren’t and you didn’t plan on getting used to it. And even as you took his face firmly between the two of your hands and brought him closer so he could hear your crystal clear, even as you saw the defiance melting from his eyes, he looked more vulnerable than ever; not angry, not sad or shocked or disappointed - vulnerable.

-So with conviction you kiss his face more times than you care to count and tell him he is someone worth defending, no matter what

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[revacholianpizzaagenda]

97 Poets of Revachol pics!

HERE THEY ARE, courtesy of the event's official photographer, Zuzana Šubrtová. The Elysium-based LARP took place in two runs in Terezín, Czech Republic, in the latter half of September. These are from the second run!

I can't possibly describe what it was like to inhabit the rundown tenement of La Cage with more than a hundred other players, bringing to life a whole slice of society: immigrants, barflies, petanque players, sewer people, Union gang members, Wild Pines mercs, disco people, sewer people, looters, street artists, an inevitable mass of fascists, anarchists, communards (or so I'm told), communards (proper), communards (it's complicated), councilmembers, hustlers, taxidermy enthusiasts, the also-inevitable mass of pale-fried strugglers, journalists, Moralintern creeps, RCM chucklefucks, and so on and so forth. The old military hospital burst to life with small human moments and grand revelations happening in every corner at all time, as the gears of history moved toward our inevitable trial run of Le Retour.

We really had it all. Politics, drugs, creeping mold, more drugs, unseen voices steering us toward our best and worst natures, a metaphysical rave, entroponetic anomalies, precognition (scripted), precognition (just kind of happened?? Several times over?), suzerainist coffin deliveries, sweatshop politics, old reckonings, radiant sacrifices (accidental-ish), three-way divorces (one-upping one HDB), strikes and strike-breakers, political dance-offs and political orgies, and did I mention the drugs, under the greatness of history and the pale.

Thanks to the organizers for the colossal effort they pulled off like it was nbd, and to all my fellow dwellers of La Cage.

A few favourites:

First off, this was basically the entirety of my game:

...with a central heartrending tension between that abandon, that 'something beautiful is going to happen', and my character's earthly loves, the family she loved so much. It was really really fascinating and emotionally moving to get to play out that central conundrum in full (and go die on the barricades for an independent Revachol following the push of History) (and also of Franconegro pulling my strings like a marionette in a chilling scene) (but mostly History)

Case in point: me in the back, the Unseen voice/spirit/skill "Doomsayer" to the left, dear husband Tai in the middle. Sorry Tai!

Moralintern mission

Sweatshop workers strike

Both sides of the barricades, right as the game ended (this is not a spoiler, it said up front on the website that that's where the story would end): independentists (feat. His Fuckery Franconegro with the black wings in the background, but also the Unseen of if it sucks hit da bricks, the street martyr and idk who else) and globalists (Dolores Dei, Doomsayer et al)

speaking of those two - here's them in full rave regalia. I love that two of the collective skills of this place are flat-out "Dolores Dei" and "Franconegro", it's so fitting. Can't have current society without them, so here they are, as a molecular part of it.

RCM peeps predictably being serious, professional individuals

Designer drug guy talking to Corrosion who's kind of the local version of Electrochemistry. I'm sure this was a completely hinged conversation that reached sensible conclusions

Wild Pines mercs +1

Disco downtime. The set design for The Bearded Vulture club and The Second Club was out of this world. I hope my own pics can convey some of it.

sweatshop power dynamics (there were accidents, Union leverage, strikes, corruption... you'd think there would be barely time for anything else to go on AND YET)

possibly my fave pic of the whole thing (go Doomsayer!!!). we had specific graffitable areas on the wall and made VERY good use of them. Well, everyone else. My character wasn't much of a graffiti artist, her greatest contribution was turning "Revachol for revacholians" into "Revachol for mold"...

LARP^2

fascist campaigning at the Democracy Picnic

Petanque club...

...actually playing petanque? I never saw them ingame, I was starting to wonder if it wasn't a front for something else

Pictured - no scheming, plotting or quadruple-crossing here as you can clearly see by "Kras Knezhinisky"'s super normal demeanour and unassuming name, which I can totally believe was on his legit birth certificate)

I mention Kras because here's the theatrical taxidermy show with him in the middle narrating the adventures of his antifascist ferret Kommissar Kunixet. Nice pic, I take the shot. Five seconds later, superstar Frittte clerk Jamie Delaney joins in, and what can I do, NOT have Jamie in a shot? Absolutely not, so I take the same exact shot with Jamie in it as well.

And by sheer twist of technology (and of course the pale, and of course vile censorship in defiance of the Romangorod convention)... Kras Knezhinsky of all people gets kommissar-no-kommissar'd. "Kras, the pale is erasing you from our memories, from images," I warn him, showing him the two pictures. One hour later, he gets taken behind the waste disposal facility and shot.

Hm.

(LARP's haunted. These things KEPT HAPPENING. In the first run, that version of my character went "YOU MURDERER" at the specific merc who'd turn out to be connected with her background, a couple of hours before getting that reveal in-game. What's Elysium without some good old-fashioned precognition after all!)

Poor Flowerseller (red dress here) was kind of my Empathy - many valiant attemps were made, however. Uphill struggle.

HARDCORE anodic club leader Konrad Nilsen doing something not so hardcore here, idk what was going on exactly but then again I never even noticed we had a morgue and I had a plot right next room, so what do I know. I know that the end is near. That much for sure. And that the resolution of history's contradictions goes through the pale. But corpses? Nah.

||||||| 😎

[hockey-fics]

The Summer It All Changed ~ Quinn Hughes

ft. Jack and Luke being idiots 

Summary: You grew up with Quinn and for the longest time you really were just friends. But perhaps that’s not all you’re meant to be. 

Word Count: ~5,000

Warnings: Smut, drinking, language. 

A/N: I barely edited this, it’s not my best work. I’m really just trying to get back into the whole actually finishing my WIPs thing. 

You had known the Hughes family your entire life. Quite literally. Your parents were friends and you grew up alongside the three boys. You had been affectionately linked with Jack for most of your life. You were just under a year younger than Jack and your parents seemed to believe that should mean that you two would be best friends. And it wasn’t that you weren’t friends, you definitely were. But it wasn’t Jack that you always seem to gravitate to. It was Quinn who was the recipient of all your attention growing up. 

He would pretend to be annoyed, particularly during the middle school years when being spotted with the younger kids seemed like the most embarrassing thing anyone could imagine. But no matter how much he would pretend everyone could tell he was never really annoyed by you. 

He was always the one who made sure you were able to keep up when you went on bike adventures with the,. He didn’t get annoyed when you didn’t understand the rules of a new game after a single half-assed explanation from Jack or Luke. He made sure to not let everyone talk over you when you were young and quiet. He was the one who taught you how to skate and he was the one who would fight to let you have input on the movie for movie nights. 

Quinn had been there for you during some of the best and worst times of your life. 

The first time you got drunk, in a classmate’s basement drinking glass after glass of boxed red wine, it was Quinn who you called. He was the only one of your friends that had their license, but more than that he was the only one you really wanted in that moment. When he showed up you were sitting alone on the front steps of the house, staring at the ground desperately willing the world to stop spinning around you. Quinn took you home that night, helped you sneak into your bedroom. He got you water and the garbage can from the bathroom, knowing you may not make it through the night with the contents of your stomach still in your body. You barely remembered the night the next morning and Quinn never once tried to tease you about it the way you knew any of your other friends would have. 

Your first teenage heartbreak was as stereotypical as it could be. You had been with him for a whopping six months, which was quite the feat at fifteen years old. You holed up in your living room with your best friend, a pint of ice cream, and an endless stream of movies playing in the background. It was two days after the breakup when Jack showed up to see if you wanted to go on a bike ride. To this day you still weren’t sure who told who what but the news of your breakup eventually made its way back to Quinn. He showed up that evening and after being let into the house by your mom he hesitantly made his way to you, like you were a feral animal that might sprint off if he made too sudden of a movement. He didn’t know what to say, that was apparent to anyone hearing his awkward statements of condolences. But he stayed with you late into that night, watching movies with you and your best friend, making jokes that lightened the mood and letting you curl up next to him, your head on his shoulder for most of the evening. 

You discovered your acceptance into your dream university while your parents were at work and you were home alone. After an ecstatic sprint around your empty house you ended up at the Hughes’ residence, banging on the door like you were in desperate need of help. It was Luke who answered the door, the unwilling recipient of one of the most rambunctious hugs you had ever given in your life. He had hugged you back with a palpable hesitation. After telling him the great news you received a half-assed congratulations. But Quinn was in the room a minute later, barrelling his way to you. He gave you the congratulations you were looking for, telling you he had no doubts you would get accepted and assuring you that you were going to do so incredible in university. 

Obviously you had known that Quinn was going to get drafted in the 2018 draft. You knew it was going to happen, you knew that you couldn’t live down the road from Quinn forever. But when you watched Quinn get picked by the Canucks the excitement you had for him was mixed with a sinking feeling. Vancouver. It wasn’t just far it was in a whole other country. The first time you saw him after the draft you put on your bravest face, hugging him tight with a sincere congratulations. You were happy for him, you really were. But you had only kept your emotions in check for a short time that day. Before you knew it you were crying in his arms, confessing how scared and sad you were to soon not have him around. He had assured you he was still going to be around, that it would just be different. And he wasn’t wrong, taking the spot for the person you texted the most for many, many years. 

After you left for university and Quinn was living in Vancouver you didn’t see each other much. But there was one thing that you could always look forward to. Summer. After you finished your exams for the year and Quinn’s hockey season came to end you would both return home for the summer. 

It was during those summers that your feelings for Quinn truly developed. Those long, hot days were when you realized your feelings for him weren’t the feelings you have for someone who was just a friend. But you never said anything, never did anything to act on your feelings. You were so close and your families were so intertwined that the risk of complicating things scared you out of doing anything. 

You were nearing the end of your years at university, after having completed three full years you headed home for yet another summer with your family and childhood friends. This year was different though, this year you were going to be spending two weeks on the beaches of Hawaii with the Hughes family. 

It wasn’t like it was the first time you had gone on a trip with the Hughes family. But it was different. This was the first year you were able to drink, legally at least. You were all older now. You had your own hotel room, not sleeping on a cot in a room with your parents. You had a level of freedom you never had under the watchful eye of parental guardians. 

“Are we still going to the beach?” you ask, crammed in the elevator of the hotel you had just checked in to with Jack, Luke, and Quinn and about 3 too many suitcases. 

“Yeah, what’s your room number? We can meet you there and go down together?” Quinn offers. 

There’s a couple snickers after his question, Jack being the one to actually speak up. “Yeah, I bet that’s why you wanna know where her room is.”

“Fuck off,” Quinn mutters, elbowing Jack in the ribs. 

Your eyes shift back and forth between them, feeling on the outside of an inside joke. “614,” you state as the elevator doors slide open on the 6th floor. Stepping out of the elevator you drag your bags behind you, heading down the elevator to your room. It’s a beautiful room, one that Quinn had insisted on helping you pay for after you nearly opted out of the trip over the price. 

Digging through your suitcase you find a bikini, pulling it on your body before spinning around in front of the mirror, taking in every angle to ensure it looked okay. Sighing to yourself you adjust the straps a few times, wondering if perhaps it was a little too much for a vacation with some of your closest family friends. But before you have the opportunity to change into anything else there’s a knock on the door. 

Pulling it open you look up at Jack, watching his eyes blatantly travel up and down your body. “Who you wearing this for?” Jack teases. 

Swatting his arm you step aside, letting him into your hotel room. “Is it too much?”

“You mean you have something with less?” Jack chuckles, sitting down on the edge of your bed. 

“Shut up,” you mutter, glancing in the mirror. “Seriously, should I change?”

“Nah, you’re going to make some people pretty happy in that.”

“Gross,” you comment, tossing a few beach essentials into a tote bag as you wait for the other two to get to your room. It’s not long before another knock draws your attention and you open the door, gazing up at Quinn with a smile. “Hi,” you greet, stepping to the side. 

Quinn’s eyes aren’t as easy to follow, darting around to various parts of the room, not lingering on you for more than a couple seconds at a time. “H-hey,” Quinn stammers, clearing his throat. 

“Are you going to come in or just stand there?” you tease, watching Quinn finally take a step into your room.

Quinn freezes again when his eyes land on Jack, glancing back over to you for a moment. “How long have you been here?” Quinn asks, walking over to sit next to Jack. 

“Chill,” Jack chuckles, shaking his head. He whispers something to Quinn that you can’t hear and you look back to the mirror, more than convinced now that you should change. 

“I’ll find something else to wear,” you declare, digging through your suitcase again. 

“Oh my god,” Jack groans, flopping down onto the bed. “Now you need to chill, that’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then what were you whispering about?” you exclaim, spinning back around to face them. 

Jack chuckles, still staring at the ceiling. “What did I say, Quinn?”

Quinn opens his mouth to say something, cut off by another knock on the door. “Guess it’s time to head to the beach,” Quinn states, hoping up from the edge of your bed and opening your door, in the hallway before you have a chance to say anything more. 

Yanking on a pair of shorts and grabbing your bag you hurry after Quinn. The four of you are approaching the elevator when you wrap your hand around Quinn’s wrist, pulling him to a halt. You wait for the other two to get a few steps away before saying anything. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Quinn mutters with a shrug. 

“Obviously it’s not nothing, Quinn. Something is off and I feel weird and….uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn says quickly, eyes diverting to the ground for a second. “I promise it’s nothing, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Can’t you just tell me the truth?” you whisper, never thinking you would have to ask Quinn to be honest with you. 

“Not right now,” Quinn says quietly. “But I promise it’s nothing bad, it’s nothing you’ve done or anything.”

Sighing you reach out, wrapping your arms around his torso. “I just don’t want this to become a thing, Quinn. I’ve missed you and just want this trip to be fun.”

“It will be, I promise, it’s not going to be weird.” 

Nodding you take his hand, hurrying to the elevator that Luke was holding open for the two of you. 

Down on the beach you claim a lounge chair amongst an empty row, laying your towel down before sitting down, watching Quinn lay his stuff down on the chair beside you. “Not going to swim with them?” you inquire, nodding towards Luke and Jack as they make their way towards the water. 

“Nah, maybe later,” Quinn says, sitting down next to you. “Rather be here with you.”

You can’t help but notice the way your stomach flutters with butterflies at that comment, with the way he was looking at you. Your cheeks begin to flush as you notice Quinn’s eyes drifting down from your eyes to your chest. You contemplate making a joke about it but if you were being honest you didn’t want him to stop and you weren’t willing to risk making him feel uncomfortable it. 

“Do you want a drink?” Quinn asks a few minutes later, looking over at the bar not far down the beach. 

“Yeah, sure.” Standing up you walk along the beach next to Quinn, the sand hot beneath your feet, a gentle breeze tossing your hair. “What are you getting?” 

“Probably just a beer,” Quinn shrugs as the two of you stop in front of the bar, looking at the small cocktail menu. 

“You’re so boring,” you tease. 

“Well what are you getting?”

“A Mai Tai,” you tell him, simply reading the first drink listed on the menu you were looking at. 

“What’s in that?” 

Shrugging you laugh quietly, looking up at him. “No idea, I’m sure it’s good though.”

“You’re going to end up hating it and I’ll have to drink it.”

“That’s not true,” you exclaim, though if you were being honest that exact situation had happened many times in your years of knowing Quinn. 

After ordering and getting your drinks the two of you head back to the lounge chairs. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into your typical routine with Quinn. You would talk, maybe a little too much, he would listen intently, cracking jokes here and there. The two of you would break out into fits of giggles, laughing till your stomach hurt and you could barely catch your breath. When you were with him it felt like nothing could possibly go wrong, everything just felt so easy. 

The first couple days of the holiday go by in much the same fashion. Wake up later than you should, have breakfast late enough that it becomes brunch. Spend the day on the beach or going out around the city. Drinking begins long before dinner happens and when you finally get around to figuring something out for dinner you’re tipsy and thoroughly warmed from the day in the sun. Drinking rarely slowed after dinner, the location of where that happened did seem to change nightly, from bars to clubs to the beach. 

You’re sitting at a table in a bar at the hotel on night four when you lean closer to Quinn, catching his attention. “Will you go for a walk with me? I want to go down to the beach,” you whisper.

Quinn nods in response, finishing what was left in his glass before setting it down on the table. “We’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says to the others at the table, walking with you down the steps from the bar to the pathway down to the beach. 

You walk together in a comfortable silence, till you get closer to the edge of the water, plopping down on the sand. Quinn follows your lead, sitting down next to you. The sand is cool now with the sun long gone, the moon shining off the surface of the ocean. 

“Thanks for inviting me here,” you say to Quinn, leaning your head on his shoulder. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, the physical contact felt so much more significant now than it ever had in the past.

Quinn chuckles, setting his hand on the sand behind you, letting you lean further into him. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“Well thank you for paying for so much stuff for me, you really didn’t have to do all this,” you tell him, lifting your head to look up at him. “I really appreciate it.”

“I would have paid for all of it.”

Laughing you shake your head. “You’re too nice to me.”

“Is that a problem?” Quinn chuckles, turning his attention away from the ocean to look down at you. 

Your eyes lock and there’s a silence between the two of you that lasts a little longer than feels natural. “No,” you finally whisper. You let out a heavy breath, trying not to let your thoughts get too out of control as your eyes fall to his lips. 

Quinn reaches over, his fingers sliding along the side of your face. It feels so sudden that you nearly flinch, eyes flicking back up to look into his. There’s another long pause as Quinn watches you intently, like he was waiting for you to object to what was happening. But you didn’t, you couldn’t. Leaning closer your hand fumbles along the sand, your breathing shaky. 

Finally he commits to the moment, his lips on yours a second later. He’s gentle and the kiss is so soft and slow. When you pull back it’s hesitant, not wanting the moment to end. But you needed to process it just as much as you wanted to keep going. “Quinn,” you whisper, eyes on the sand, nervous to look into his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, did you not want-.”

“No,” you interject. “I mean, yes, yeah, I did, I just…what, um…what?” you can’t help but laugh at your stammering, still not entirely sure what you were trying to say, just hoping he would pick up on enough to say something in response. 

Quinn chuckles quietly, reaching over and taking your hand. “I don’t know if this is weird to say right now,” Quinn mumbles. “But um, I, uh, I like you…a lot.”

“Quinn,” you breathe out again, looking into his eyes now. 

“Can you please say something other than my name? I’m kind of freaking out.”

Giggling you lean in, pressing your lips to his again. “I feel the same way,” you whisper against his lips, not wanting to pull any further away from him now that the boundaries that had been stopping you from touching him like this before were gone.

Slowly you lift one knee over Quinn’s lap, setting your arms over his shoulders. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admit. 

Quinn has one hand behind him, propping himself up as he gazes up at you. His lips are curled into a soft smile. His free hand runs up your thigh, landing on your hip. “Me too.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Quinn shakes his head with a breath of laughter. “I mean, look at you,” Quinn mutters. “I never thought I would have a chance.”

“Quinn,” you whisper, tipping his head back as you lean in closer. “There’s nobody else I have ever wanted to be with more than you.”

You can feel Quinn’s breath on your lips, his hand sliding up your back as he pulls you closer. Your lips brush against his, the kiss was gentle again, slow and patient. It doesn’t last long as your body begins to beg for more, fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss quickens. Your hips grind down into him as his tongue brushes against yours, your nerves firing with every touch of his hands on your body. 

Pulling back you take a moment to catch your breath, staring down at him with eyes full of desire. “Do you want to come up to my room for a bit?”

“Yes,” Quinn replies quickly with an eager nod. 

Clambering to your feet you brush the sand from your legs, taking Quinn’s hand and heading back up to the hotel. Behind the closed doors of the elevator Quinn presses you against the cool metal wall, kissing you gently, hands firm on your waist. The ride is short and you’re giggling as you push him out through the open door, every step you take closer to your room you seemed to be gaining speed. 

By the time the hotel room door is closed your body is buzzing with desire. You’re frantically pulling articles of clothing off each other’s bodies, littering them throughout the room from the door to the bed. You let yourself melt into Quinn as he lays you down on the bed, pressing kisses down your neck and chest, fingers hooking under your underwear, tugging them down your legs. 

A loud breath leaves your lungs as Quinn presses his lips to your inner thigh, slowly moving them higher and higher up your legs. The closer he gets to where you wanted him the more antsy you became, hips squirming on the bed. “Please,” you whimper, desperate for him to pick up the pace. Quinn takes the hint, tongue brushing over your clit as moans begin slipping from your lips. 

Moaning loudly you have one hand on the back of his head, fingers grasping at his hair. Your other hand is grasping the fabric of the sheets on your bed. “Oh, fuck, feels so good,” you whimper. As you grow closer to you your peak your muscles begins to tense, waves of pleasure suddenly crashing through your body just a second later. 

Quinn makes his way back to your lips, kissing you deeply as you reach down, hand brushing against his hard cock. “So hot coming for me like that,” Quinn mumbles against your lips. Fumbling his underwear off you grasp at Quinn’s shoulders, staring at him with eager eyes.

“Are you sure?” Quinn asks, watching you nod before slipping his hand between your bodies. He guides himself into you, slow and gentle as he watches you closely. 

With a soft gasp you grasp at his shoulders, the feeling of him inside you making your head spin with pleasure. No amount of imagining this moment could have prepared you for this. “You feel so good inside me,” you whimper as he thrusts deep inside you. 

“Fuck,” Quinn groans, a blissful smirk on his lips. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, you feel so fucking good,” he admits. 

“That’s okay,” you giggle, pulling him closer to press your lips to his. “I don’t think this will be the last time this is happening.”

“Really hope not,” Quinn mumbles. His hips begin to move faster, your moans increasing in frequency as your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Where do-.”

“Come inside me,” you interject, hoping that you knew where he was going with his question. “I want to feel you fill me with your cum.”

“Oh, fuck,” Quinn groans, shaking his head. “Can’t say that to me if you want me to last longer.”

“Cum all over me then, is that better?” you tease with a quiet gasp as Quinn’s hips smack harder into you. 

“N-no,” Quinn stammers, shaking his head. True to his word you feel him finishing inside you just a moment later, groaning loudly as he rocks his hips into you a few more times before slowly pulling out of you. Reaching over he grabs a few of the Kleenex from the box on the bedside table, quickly cleaning you up. 

“Do you want to have a shower?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. “With me.”

“Yes,” Quinn replies easily, reaching for your hands as you sit up.

After a shower you curl up next to Quinn in bed, your arm over his chest, drawing imaginary shapes on his skin. You try to stay awake, to spend more time with Quinn, but you’re quickly overtaken by sleep in the comfort of his arms. 

You weren’t sure what time it was or even how many rounds you and Quinn had gone since you woke up that morning. All you knew was that your legs were beginning to shake with Quinn between them, your fingers tangled in his hair, gasps and moans escaping your lips loudly. But a knock on the door is enough to silence your string of moans and make Quinn pull back quickly. 

“Who’s that?” Quinn whispers, looking over at you with wide eyes. 

“How would I know?” you mutter, scrambling off the bed to try and find some clothes to pull over your naked body. With Quinn’s shirt and a pair of bikini bottoms on you open your door, eyes widening as you look over at Jack. “Hi,” you mutter, swallowing heavily. 

“Are you…okay?” Jack asks, eyebrows furrowed as he looks you up and down. “Oh, oh shit,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Quinn’s not going to be happy about this,” he mutters, glancing around the hallway. 

“I,” you begin, glancing behind you as you let out a loud breath. “What do you want, Jack?”

“Are you coming on the boat today or what? We were supposed to meet down there at one.”

“One?” you exclaim, not realizing how late in the day it had gotten. 

“Yeah,” Jack states, shaking his head at your confusion. “Also, do you know where Quinn is?”

“I, uh,” you begin before shaking your head. “No, I don’t…I’ll be down in a few minutes, just need to get ready,” you tell him, closing the door before he has the chance to say anything else. 

“Didn’t want to tell him?” Quinn asks with a smirk, walking over to where you were standing by the door. 

“Tell him that he just interrupted his brother going down on me?” you ask. 

Quinn shrugs, hands on your waist as he walks you back to the edge of the bed. “Lay down, I’m not going to let that stop me from finishing what I started.”

You let out a quiet moan, leaning up and kissing him deeply. His tongue is in your mouth and you can taste yourself on him, whimpering into the kiss. 

Quinn smirks, pushing you back onto the bed before getting down in front of it. His head is back between your legs just a second later, his tongue sliding along your folds before running over your clit, your hips squirming beneath him. He presses his arm over your hips, stilling them as he quickly brings you to another orgasm, body writhing beneath him. 

“Fuck, holy fuck,” you breathe out as Quinn kisses his way up your body. 

Quinn presses a quick kiss to your lips before taking your hands and pulling you to sit up. “Should we head down there?”

Nodding you stare up at him with an awestruck gaze. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, pulling yourself to your feet and digging through your suitcase for another bikini and pair of shorts. 

The two of you make it down to the lobby only a few short minutes later, your legs not even entirely steady yet. You watch Jack glance over at Quinn and then back to you, eyes narrowing slightly. “Found him,” you declare, looking at Jack as you say it. 

“Mmhm,” Jack hums, looking away from you. “Let’s go,” he declares, storming off towards the doors of the hotel. You exchange a look with Quinn, his shrug being enough to tell you to just leave him Jack be and keep going ahead with the plan. 

You’re on your sixth drink in the span of a couple hours on the boat, a buzz in your body as you lean back against the hot vinyl seats on the boat. You weren’t the only one who had been drinking, everyone on the boat having lost their sobriety somewhere after hour one on the boat. Quinn scoots a little closer to you, draping his arm over the back of your seat as he leans in, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

“She’s not into you,” Jack declares with a drunken slur, staring at Quinn with a warning look. 

“What?” Quinn asks, chuckling as Jack’s statement. 

“She was fucking someone this morning, you need to stop.”

“Woah,” Quinn mutters. “How many drinks have you had, bud?”

“I’m not lying, she was-.”

“I know, Jack, now shut the fuck up,” Quinn snaps, a warning tone in his voice. 

“You’re in love with her,” Jack exclaims, gesturing wildly between you and Quinn. 

You can’t help but giggle at the situation, looking up at Quinn. “You can tell him, it’s fine,” you whisper. 

“I was the one in her room this morning, bro,” Quinn tells Jack, dropping his arm from around you on the chair to around your waist, pulling you in closer. 

Jack is silent for a few seconds, eyes darting back and forth between you and Quinn. “Oh, shit, sorry, I-.”

“It’s fine, let’s just stop talking about this,” you interject, cheeks flushing. 

“Wait, what?” Luke exclaims from where he was sitting on the other side of you. “Are you two finally a thing?”

“No, we’re not really, like, together, but…finally?” you question, turning your head to look at Quinn with a teasing smile. “Did everyone but me know you had feelings for me?”

“Not everyone,” Quinn chuckles, cheeks red. “Just these two idiots.”

“We’re not the idiots here if you two aren’t going to just get together, it’s been like 20 years,” Luke states.

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him, turning your head to look at Quinn. “Right?”

“I don’t think there’s much I need to figure out,” Quinn says, looking into your eyes. “I know exactly what I want.”

“Me too,” you whisper with a soft smile, fingers squeezing his hand, a silent communication that you were both on the same page. Because at the end of the day, it’s better late than never and you don’t know if you could have lived with never having a chance with Quinn. 

[lizartgurl]

How Do You Know? (Han Solo x Leia Organa)

Hanleia Week Day One: Tradition. Feat. Anakin Solo. @hanleiacelebration

"I love you."

"I know."

"Why do you guys always say that?"

"Huh?" Han tried not to jump in surprise as he looked down at the budding adolescent beside him. His children had a nasty habit of being able to hide their presence until it was too late.

Young Anakin's nose crinkled. "Why do you always say 'I know' whenever the other one says 'I love you'? Aren't you supposed to say 'I love you' back?"

Han couldn't help the lopsided grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Do you want to tell him, Princess?" he asked.

Leia laughed softly, haloed in the blue light of her hologram, "It's a bit of a tradition at this point. We said it to each other once, and now it's just natural."

"But doesn't it sound kind of... Smug?" Anakin asked. He'd always had trouble with social norms and expectations. Han squeezed his baby boy's shoulder in reassurance.

"Your father is smug, honey," Leia explained in the same reassuring tone.

"Your mother's not off the hook either," Han insisted.

"How did it start?" Anakin asked, "Were you fighting, or...?"

"All the time."

"Han!"

"Your mother and I had been kidnapped by Darth Vader, the bait in a trap for Uncle Luke. They were going to freeze me in carbonite, which they usually just use for storing tibanna gas to ship out to other planets. The carbon freeze is great for preserving the gas and fuel, but they didn't know if it would kill me or not."

"But it didn't!" Anakin said quickly, his face pale and eyes wide.

"It didn't," Han reassured him, "But it was pretty scary. And that was the first time your mom told me that she loved me."

"In front of Grandpa?"

"Darth Vader is not your grandfather," Leia said in her no-nonsense tone, the one that still made Han's head spin.

Anakin looked thoughtful, "So when Mom said that she loved you, you just said 'I know'?"

"Okay, well it sounds bad when you put it like that-" He looked to Leia on the holo, hoping she would back him up.

Leia's hologram was smiling, that ice-melting, full body smile that must have been a Skywalker trait, her chin propped in her hand as she watched Han flounder.

"Wanna help me out here?"

"No, I think you got it, hotshot. Why did you say 'I know'?"

Han realized he had never really thought about it before. In the heat of the moment, in front of Vader, Fett, and half a platoon of stormtroopers, it just felt right. But why?

"Your mom's pretty tough, Nik," He said at last, "A senator, a princess, a general, she had to be. Back then, after everything that happened to her, she hated letting anyone get under her skin."

"Even you?" They were his parents, of course Anakin wouldn't be able to imagine a situation where they hated each other.

"Especially him," Leia grinned, "He was the worst."

"So when I told her 'I know', it was a way for me to tell her that I understood that she loved me, but also that I understood who she was as a person. That I knew how big it was that she told me this in front of people that hated us, and that I knew she would move the stars in order to save me."

Anakin was quiet now, deep in thought over this confession. Han glanced back at Leia, and caught a glimpse of her trying to wipe away her tears. He could hear Threepio in the background somewhere, asking if she required a handkerchief, but Leia dismissed him.

"Did you ever tell her you loved her back?" Anakin asked.

"Absolutely," Han beamed at his son. "When we were destroying the Death Star on Endor, she got shot protecting me. When I tried to help her, some stormtroopers cornered us and I thought it was all over. I'd have done anything to protect your mom then and there, but before I could do anything, Mom showed me that she was still holding her blaster. Since the stormtroopers didn't see it, she could take them by surprise.

"I knew I loved your mom before then, but that reminder of how strong she was, how smart she was, I was a goner."

"That's when he told me he loved me." Leia said. She sounded like a giddy schoolgirl rather than the chief of State, her chin propped up in her hands as she listened to Han talk about how much he loved her.

"And you told him that you knew?" Anakin asked.

"Yes, I knew. And I still know." Leia said.

Anakin's brow crinkled again, "When was the first time you told me that you loved me?" he asked the hologram of his mother.

"Oh, Anakin, I told you that I loved you before you were born," Leia said. Anakin's face grew red and shy, but he was the one who asked.

"Alright, Mom's gotta go now, kiddo, say goodbye."

"Bye, Mom!" Anakin waved to the hologram, and was quickly distracted by the puzzle games on his holo pad once again,leaving Han alone with his wife. Finally.

"I love you sweetheart. More than you know."

"Well I don't know about that," Leia teased. She blew a kiss through the holo.

"I'll see you tonight."

"Don't be late, I'm making grilled nuna and mashed potatoes."

Leia sighed, "I'm so glad I had babies with you."

Han couldn't stop a cocky grin, "I know."

[the-badger-mole]

Do you think Zuko would have made a better Avatar?

I feel like literally anyone else on the team would've made a better Avatar than Aang. This is how I rank them from best to worst, including the non-bending members:

Katara: Would've taken it seriously from jump. Her compassion and empathy make me think she would be the best Avatar of the group over all.

Suki: Would've also taken it seriously. With her military background, and growing up hearing the feats of Avatar Kyoshi, I think she would've been a fantastic wartime Avatar.

Zuko: He has the compassion and empathy necessary for the job, but I think he'd be extremely reluctant at first. He'd come around eventually, but would be really insecure about it for a long time. Even after he wins.

Toph: She...would be a menace. But I think ultimately she'd be a good Avatar. Very, very

Sokka: A great analytical mind, but I think he would absolutely hate being Avatar. At least first. It'd take him a while, but I think he'd make the role his own.

I don't think any of them would be bad Avatars. Any of them would've blown Aang out of the water.

[starlightkyeom]

Hi. In honor of Jewel, I’d like to request something with Seokjin and his d*ck resting on the counter lmao

pairing: best friend!seokjin x gn!reader genre: friends/idiots to lovers, humor, fluff word count: 1245 & 2 texts rating: mature (because they're talking about the dick perch, there's no smut) warnings: they talk about the dick perch, they're both kind of menaces, jimin makes a brief background appearance a/n: this is the first request i got for @ugh-yoongi's birthday drabble event and i completely lost it. i also hope it's not just me that thinks this is funny. but it's okay if it is 😂 also i promise there is literally no angst, the title is just something they tease each other about fun piece of jewel lore: we (i) tried to get this picture screen printed on a cake for a surprise bachelorette party for jewel. not only did the bakery not understand the assignment, but the cake wasn't even good. so, a definite fail, but the thought was there.

There’s a lot that you’ve just gotten used to during your friendship with Seokjin. That he’s always going to ask you to taste some new recipe he’s trying when you come over for dinner. That he’s always going to have the absolute best wine and turn his nose up when you show up with something cheap. That he uses the perfect meal to say the things he can’t. That he’s actually the best cook you’ve met without ever taking any classes. That you can’t interrupt him when he’s in the middle of playing a video game without getting a lecture or it actually being an emergency. That he doesn’t feel at home in large groups and, despite all his charm, he would rather be off to the side. Or, better yet, home in his pajamas. That, in some ways, he never fully grew up. That he’s always going to be there for you in his own way, even if he doesn’t have the words. That his laugh is always going to be one of your favorite sounds, even if it’s also completely obnoxious. 

But, worst of all, you have to accept the fact that he is always going to be painfully hot no matter what. It didn’t really bother you the first time you met him. He was charming and dorky and had the worst sense of humor (that had you barely able to breathe from laughing). No, it wasn’t until a group of you had gone out drinking and you crashed at Seokjin’s apartment that you truly realized the unfairness of it all. You woke up feeling like death warmed over, make-up smudged with bags under your eyes and hair going in unnatural directions. Seokjin, by contrast, came walking into the kitchen bare-faced and still looking like he was photoshoot ready. Talk about irritating. 

That’s not actually the worst of it, you realize, when you get a text from your best friend. He’s dying his hair, a feat you told him would be better left until you could get there to help him. But he’s also stubborn, sometimes, so he carries on anyway. The proof is in a picture that he sends to you showing him in the bathroom with gloves on and purple on his previously bleached blond hair. You’re considering if his hands have always been that big or if the gloves make them look bigger when you notice something else. Something else that looks...big. Something else you definitely should not be looking at. 

He’s fucking with you. He absolutely has to be fucking with you. Because there is no way that he has his dick fully resting on the counter without noticing it. And there’s no way that it’s just a fold in his pants. There’s also no way you’re going to admit to your best friend that one of the first things you noticed was the outline of his dick resting on the counter. You’re pretty sure you don’t even want to think that word again. So, fine. If he wants to post that photo exactly as it is, who are you to stop him? 

Ten minutes later you get the notification that he’s posted the picture to Instagram, which is much less time than it usually takes him to pick the right filter and the right caption. You only know because he turned your notifications on for him one day and acted affronted that you might turn them off. Even still, as your little way to regain some semblance of control in the friendship, you wait until you like it. It’s the small things. 

However, when you do go to like it, you see a much higher number of likes than normal, along with several people commenting heart eyes or fire emojis under it. One comment sticks out, though, from yours and Seokjin’s friend, Jimin. All it says is: hyung, i’m not sure you thought this out before posting. You snort to yourself immediately because leave it to Jimin to just come out and say it. You can imagine the text conversation as you sit there. Can almost hear Jimin’s real laugh and Seokjin’s reaction. When your own phone rings, it startles you out of the thought.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” Seokjin nearly screeches before you finish saying hello.

“Hi to you too,” you respond.

“No, sorry, was that what you meant when you said I should crop it?” Seokjin carries on.

“I’m missing several pieces to whatever you’re trying to ask,” you answer even though you do know what he means. You’ve known Seokjin long enough to know that he texted Jimin and to guess at how that chat went.

“Please don’t act dumb, you already liked my photo,” he starts.

“Because you forbid me from turning off your notifications and missing out on, to quote you, your incredible hotness that’s a gift to us all,” you interject.

“And I know you must have seen the comments, so you saw Jimin,” Seokjin carries on like you hadn’t interrupted.

“Jimin says a lot of things,” you counter.

“Well I called him and he informed me that you can clearly see my dick outlined through my pants on the counter. And then when I said you suggested cropping the picture, he laughed for a full minute before telling me to call you and hanging up,” Seokjin explains. 

You curse internally. Just like there’s a lot to get used to with your friendship with Seokjin, there’s even more to accept with your friendship with Jimin. He’s actually really grounded and reliable. The kind of person you can tell anything to. The only problem? He never forgets and makes damn sure you never do either. Case in point: your crush on your best friend.

“Well?” Seokjin prompts when you’re quiet for too long.

“Well what?” you ask.

“Were you looking at my dick in the picture? Is that why you suggested I crop it?” Seokjin continues on, unashamed.

“Ew, don’t say it like that,” you deflect.

“Say what like what?” he asks.

“You know, your…just don’t say it like that,” you stumble.

“You can’t even say it,” Seokjin barks out, obnoxious laugh making you pull the phone away from your ear.

“That wasn’t what I was looking at anyway,” you lie. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” Seokjin says, but it’s soft in a way you’re not used to. “But hey, I actually wanted to try this new recipe if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

“Seokjin, are you asking me out?” There’s something about the softness in his voice that makes you bold. Makes you think maybe you’re not in this alone. 

“What? No, of course not!” he nearly shouts, voice pitching up at the end.

“You can’t even say it,” you tease back.

Seokjin grumbles on the other end of the call. “Fine, you don’t have to.”

“I’d love to come have dinner with you, but only if you admit it’s a date,” you offer.

“It’s not a…actually, yes I’ll call it a date if…” Seokjin starts.

“Yes, Jin, I was looking at your dick,” you say quickly. “Okay, see you tonight for dinner!”

You hang up the phone before he can say anything else and have a moment of satisfaction imagining his face. It’s so easy to see the way he’d look at his phone, the way the blush on his ears would give him away. You think, for the first time in awhile, this might all be okay. 

[ericmicael]

My fear that "Frozen 3" will end up confirming one of the worst theories about the Northuldra Tribe and which was intensified with the release of "All is Found: A Frozen Anthology" for me has never been so real.

The theory is a response to the theory that Disney would always need to ask for permission from the Sami Tribe to do something relevant with Honeymaren, Ryder and Yelana, which is why these three, who are the only named characters from the tribe, have disappeared from the extra materials and are so little present in the marketing, with the Enchanted Forest itself having its name changed to Arendelle Forest for Disney to use it in its parks.

The theory behind the answer is that Disney would replace them with a new group of characters who would be the focus of the new film and would only use the Northuldras as background characters. And honestly, this concept art has revived that fear of mine.

A place that seems to have little to do with the Enchanted Forest and figures that seem to indicate a new inhabited magical kingdom, which made some people create a new theory that also worries me: Elsa changing home again, but this time she would change from a place that brings her a great sense of freedom and connection with her mother to a kingdom with magical people like her, which would make the change more acceptable to the general public.

And let's remember that among the 18 questions that came up in the F3 presentation, there were none related to Northuldra or Elsa's presence in the Enchanted Forest, but rather: "who gave Elsa her powers?", "why there castles ruins throughout Ahtohhalan?", "where did the nature spirits come from?" which smells to me like what we know about Ahtohallan will suffer a retcon. Why was anyone really still in doubt about who gave Elsa magic after the movie? I feel like a new addition will come to Ahtohallan that will end all the importance of the tribe in this even less important story.

I'm actually afraid that there will be a complete replacement of the entire role of the Northuldra Tribe by something now officially magical and completely owned by Disney that would prevent new dramas if they want to make material about it. And the Northuldra themselves? Relegated to the role they have in the Anthology, being just a reminder that the film has indigenous representation and that Iduna's blood heritage has not been forgotten. And so a mobile game would continue to be the only place that delves deeper into Honeymaren and Ryder, and that its main highlight is confirming that the siblings have already competed for Elsa's attention with a romantic air (Honeymaren won the dispute by a long shot), and that Ryder, after seeing his sister's feelings for the Snow Queen, decides to help please the woman in a task that the female warrior could not perform because of her difficulty in talking to strangers.

I hope I'm wrong, but the way Disney has treated the tribe since the release of "Frozen 2" is yet another indication to me that I'm unfortunately more right than wrong. So many excuses not to approach a member of the tribe and so many excuses not to approach Elsa in the Enchanted Forest doing something other than playing with animals, spirits or putting out a fire being her most relevant feat there in the podcast "Disney Frozen: Forces of Nature", to this day we don't even know where she lives. It seems that Disney never cared about making us attached to Elsa's ending in "Frozen 2" like they made us attached to Anna's ending in the same film, so making a new change in the life of the Snow Queen who we officially can't say much about and the people she theoretically lives close to, but seem to barely interact with, wouldn't be that hard.

[j0kers-light]

Joker's Loyal Three: Adore You (What-If)

Adore You - Mac Edition 💙

Hey hi everyone! I polled the blog a while back to see if anyone would be interested in a short oneshot of how (potentially) you and your choice of the Loyal Three would meet! And here we are!

Next up, we have Mac! FINALLY some backstory on this man! I get to knock out several asks with this one fic! You know who you are 👀 my massive Mac lovers, I hope you’ll enjoy what I cooked up. I linked the song which inspired this fic above 🖤✨

Get ready for a whahhhhhhhhhh moment 🥰

Another networking party, another excuse to be on his best behavior. Blah, blah, blah. Sometimes bearing the family name was more of a curse than a blessing.  

At this rate, Mac was going to cave in and do a fine line of coke in front of all the investors. That would really liven the place up and get people moving. It beat standing around bragging about who was the richest. As if people really needed a reminder.  

He could have sworn he saw his old dealer milling about the partygoers. Maybe he could flag her down and make a sale.. 

Right as Mac was scanning the crowd, he accidentally bumped into someone.  

Manners: he was taught young to have them and by default, he whispered an apology—until he saw the beauty before him.  

“Why hello hello. And just who might you be?” He smiled.  

You were in the early stages of a panic attack. Your boss dragged you to this function with two simple rules to follow.  

One, stay invisible and two, don’t embarrass him. He promised to pay you double if you passed and those two requirements were rather tame compared to his more usual impossible feats.  

You coveted this internship even if your boss was notorious for being the worst employer ever. This job was your ticket into the world of business, all you had to do was endure for just a few more months and graduate.  

All your dreams shattered when you bumped into Gotham City’s golden child, Maximillion J. Borghese. He was within the city’s elite circle of young nepotism babies, and he reigned supreme over them all.  

You could consider your career done for after this.  

He didn’t notice the flute of champagne you spilt onto his designer blazer. Perhaps because he was currently getting lost inside your eyes. Would you even believe such a thing?  

Absolutely not.  

The party faded into the background as his pale blue eyes consumed your soul. Nothing else mattered when a Borghese gave you a fraction of attention.  

You could pretend that you weren’t affected by his charm but at the end of the day, you were still a warm-blooded female.  

The man was all types of fine. You were left speechless. His lips were moving yet the words failed to resister. What was he saying? 

“Cat got your tongue, darling?” He snapped his fingers in your face, “A name. If you have one.” 

Okay... now that insult brought you crashing back to Earth.  

He was treating you like some pet he could snap his fingers at! Your boss’s rules flew out the window, and with them gone, your opinionated mind was front and center. 

You slapped his hand away, “I don’t have to tell you anything.” 

An attitude. He liked that.  

No one was brave enough to talk back to a Borghese, not unless they had a death wish and wanted to be left penniless. He glanced down at your department store dress clinging to your figure and eyed the intern personnel pin attached to your bodice.  

Suddenly, this party got interesting. 

Mac stepped closer to whisper into your ear. “You’re right. You don’t have to tell me anything, however, I’d wager your boss would on your behalf. Who is your boss by the way? I do hope you’re not with those Hewlett-Schultz amateurs.” 

You were... but that was beside the point.  

You didn’t have to put up with this level of arrogance. There was still time to save face as well as your internship. You huffed and turned to leave but Maximillion grabbed your arm.  

“Ah ah, I didn’t dismiss you yet.” He was receiving some curious eyes the longer he socialized with you, so he clicked his tongue and guided you outdoors towards the hedge maze.  

It was a far ways off, yet no one would bother him out here which was exactly what he wanted.  

Mac dragged you past the first few turns and let you go. “We won’t be bothered out here. Now, answer my question.” 

If he thought dragging you out here would intimidate you, then he was sorely mistaken. 

“You rich people are something else. Look, I’m sorry for staining your Burberry.” You gestured to his blazer. “It probably costs more than my paycheck and no, I’m not paying for dry cleaning. Buy another one on your next toilet run.” 

With each word, you watched your future circle the drain. It was risky, your hands were shaking by your sides, but gods did if feel good to see his handsome face animate in shock.  

Yet Mac did the unthinkable. He didn’t threaten or blackmail you, he laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you ever heard.  

You took that time to take in his features more closely.  

He was like a walking Adonis with his golden curly hair and piercing blue eyes. His pearly white teeth were probably used for dental commercials and those gorgeous lips. They were the shade of strawberry lipstick, and it put you in a state of mind.  

Every girl in Gotham dreamed about kissing them... and now, so did you.  

The sun truly shined down on him, and he lived up to his pretty boy reputation. Maximillion was a dictionary entry for old money. Too bad his good looks couldn’t hide his ugly personality.  

“See something you like darling?” Mac teased after catching the way you gazed at him.  

He knew he was attractive. It was simply a fact.  

He could pick any girl he wanted due to his looks and prestige. Models, foreign actresses, you name it, he dated them, but never anyone outside his tax bracket. It was just ‘wrong.’ An unspoken rule his family kept for generations.  

Mother and father would disapprove, but if there was one thing Mac loved the most in the world, it was disappointing his parents.  

He saw the perfect ploy to get back at them through you.  

You didn’t like the way he stared at you nor how he continued to trap you deeper into the maze. You heard a fountain gurgling nearby right as Maximillion pinned you to a lush wall of green.  

“D__n, you are more gorgeous up close.” He whispered more so to himself than to you. 

Oh. You knew what was happening here.  

Pretty boy wanted a new plaything and he already set his eyes on you. You weren’t that type of girl, and you definitely weren’t afraid to say no while under pressure.  

“I don’t do blonds.” You replied in a lofty tone.  

Mac laughed again. “I can change your mind in ninety days sweetheart.” He wagered.  

Spoken like a true businessman. His confidence knew no bounds.  

If he weren’t such an arrogant prick, you probably would have agreed with him. Any sane woman would’ve done so in a heartbeat. Too bad he was already on your bad side.  

You had an urge to prove this rich boy wrong. They couldn’t always get what they wanted. The world did not revolve around them. 

You crossed your arms with a smug smile of your own. “What is this, some kind of business deal?”  

For a moment, Mac hesitated after seeing your alluring smile.  

In his eyes, you were more than beautiful. He just didn’t want to inflate your ego. If you weren’t from the working class, you could go far in the world. Such a shame how fate was. He’d still enjoy using you for his goals.  

Although he could tell you weren’t going to make things easy. There was a brain between those e/c eyes of yours.  

“If that’s how you see it, darling. I consider this an investment.” He used the same endearment again, unknowingly making you melt.  

You were caught off guard when the sun shifted and set his eyes aglow. They reminded you of the crystal blue waters in the Bahamas, glinting like stars.  

Were you seriously considering this? His eyebrow slowly arched drawing you back to the conversation. 

“R-Right and what pray tell would you get out of this investment? I can see a clear outline of my benefits but what are yours?” You let him think it over while you darted around him to finally get out of the corner he put you in.  

This new section of the maze was wide with perfectly manicured hedges and white pebbled pathways. You felt relieved at the openness it offered.  

You walked towards the sound of running water from earlier, giving Mac an unobstructed view of his future investment.  

You were a wonder under summer skies with curves in all the right places and a confident gait to flaunt it. If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed you were swaying your hips on purpose. 

But he could tell; that was all natural like brown skin and lemon over ice. He bit his lip while following your lead. 

The Borghese family crest was proudly carved into the stone fountain where a lion roared a steady stream of water into a mosaic basin. He watched you wet your fingers mindlessly.  

You were stalling so he brought you back to the matter at hand. “Do you agree to the terms?” 

“What terms? You haven’t presented any for me to dispute!” You cried out.  

So you were learning business fundamentals during this internship, that was good to know. You were smart and hot. A shame he wouldn’t be able to trick you into a contract.  

Now that would give his parents a heart attack. Just thinking about a fake marriage proposal made Mac smirk. It was still on the table of ideas.. 

He still hadn’t replied so you flicked ice cold fountain water in his direction.  

It was harmless, yet you saw how quickly those clear blue eyes of his darkened. It was scary yet hot to witness. Even with the face of an angel, Maximillion was still a ruthless Borghese.  

He bent down to pick up a rock from the path that pleased his eye. He rolled it around his palm as he laid out his terms.  

“I won’t require much sweetheart. I simply wish to prove that blonds are better, in every way, by any means necessary.” His voice dropping an octave made the implications quite clear.  

You looked at the young businessman as if he grew a second head. Were you being pranked or something?  

“I-Is that it? You want me to be your fake girlfriend for the chance you might prove me wrong? Is your ego really that big?” 

You gasped as Maximillion invaded your personal bubble. He smelled of champagne and mint, an oddly satisfying combo.  

“My ego is not the only thing I have that’s big.”  He purred.  

His words settled in the charged air surround the two of you. He was a hair’s breadth away from kissing you and you swore you felt his lip brush against yours as he asked you again.  

“Do you accept these terms?” You folded faster than a lawn chair. “I do.” 

Just what did you agree to, heaven only knows.  

Maximillion— “Call me Mac, darling. All of my close friends do.” He corrected you early on in this odd arrangement. His full name was too prestigious, and you and Mac were anything but while together. 

Two weeks in and he was making a convincing case of blonds doing things very differently.  

Your exes were nothing compared to Mac both in and out of the bedroom. He was surprisingly a well-mannered gentleman and a classic romantic sending dozens of roses to your internship office like clockwork.  

Fancy dinners to restaurants you never knew existed were now your average weekend spent.  

He showered you with jewelry and designer clothes just because he could, and your friends were jealous— however you brushed off their envy. 

“This is just a fling, girl.” That’s the lie you told yourself. You and Mac agreed to three months of this false relationship. He was convinced you would get down on your knees and profess that blonds were supreme.  

As if! You would milk this situation till it ran dry or at least, that was the mindset you had when this first began.  

You played the role of being almost convinced, giving Mac the idea that him and his ego were correct. Little did you know, Mac wasn’t acting, and you were slowly but surely falling in love as well.  

Yet both of you were stubborn and wouldn’t say anything to the other. This was a temporary agreement. None of it was supposed to be real in the first place. 

That is, until time ran out and Mac was desperate to turn the tides before he lost you forever.  

He asked you on another date, you automatically said yes, unaware that this wouldn’t be a normal flashy affair. No, this date was not in public at all.  

Your heart sank when you pulled up to a house straight out of your dreams. He invited you over to his place, something that he never done in the three months the two of you ‘dated.’ 

Something about the evening made you apprehensive but you shrugged off the feeling as Mac opened the door dressed in casual clothes, (another shock) and led you to the table he decorated with roses and candles.  

He pushed you into the table before disappearing into the kitchen to grab dinner. 

“No butlers at your beck and call Mac?” You joked, hoping that it would calm your nerves. It didn’t when he failed to reply after a while.  

He came back with your favorite dish and kissed your cheek softly. “Not tonight, I want to spoil my babygirl by myself for a change.” 

Babygirl.  

You were borderline hyperventilating by now. You waited until the handsome blond sat down before hitting the panic button.  

You used his full name to get his attention. “Maximillion, what's this all about?” And you got his attention in the form of pale blue eyes staring straight into your soul.  

Mac set his wine glass down with a sigh. “I knew you couldn’t wait. At midnight, our agreement will terminate.” 

Finally, you mentally thought. “Yeah, and?” Mac saw right through your ruse.  

“I know this was only supposed to be a bet to satiate my ego, but Y/n. I can’t pretend anymore. No, sweetheart let me finish.” He said firmly when he noticed you wanting to speak.  

Your leg started jumping underneath the table yet Mac continued on.  

“I thought fake dating you would upset my parents. Jokes on me, Mother absolutely adores you, Father wants to offer you a position within our company, and my sister... F__k! My plan backfired okay! I tried denying it but you’re the only woman that...”  

He paused mid-sentence, but your nerves could not handle the suspense. 

You were following along so far despite your heart beating out of your chest. You hoped that Mac was hinting at what you been feeling for weeks now.  

“That what? Spit out!” You shouted.  

“You’re the only woman that I’ve ever loved, okay? F__k the agreement. I just.. You don’t have to say you love me; you don’t have to say nothing, in fact.”  

Mac bit his cheek before glancing up at you. This was it. There was no going back after this but he wasn’t afraid.  

His tear-stained lashes told a story he couldn’t put into words. Gone was the pretty boy who teased you in a hedge maze. Before you sat a man who would walk through fire for you and the fierce determination in his eyes proved it.  

“Please.. just let me adore you, Y/n, its the only thing I’ll ever do if you say yes.”  

Who could ever deny Maximillion J. Borghese of something he wanted? You smiled as you gave him your answer.  

[shadeysprings]

Within the Shadows

—Curtis Everett x F!Reader

Summary — Secrets are revealed amidst the celebration of your brother’s ascent to underboss. 

Warnings — unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), established relationship, graphic violence, character death, betrayal, hurt no comfort, implied kidnapping, entrapment, Mean!Curtis is in the building.

A/N — This is written for @the-slumberparty's April Monthly Challenge: Mob AU and the prompt I chose was "I don't love you. I own you." I do ask you to be gentle with me as it's my first time writing for Curtis and I'm still trying to get a hang of him.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

Standing at the side with the walls and champagne being your only companion, you observe the events playing out in front of you.

Your father’s friends, several of his trusted associates, and family members have gathered in your home to celebrate your brother’s success. He not only passed the challenges that were thrown to him by the leaders, but he also impressed them, giving more than what was being asked of him and utterly exceeding their expectations. It not only convinced them to bestow upon him the title of underboss but deemed him worthy of being your father’s successor in the syndicate. 

You’re happy for him—truly you are for you’ve supported him every step of the way and did nothing but encourage him to make your father proud. It even came to the point of helping him in one of the jobs when he caught himself in a tight situation. Giving him a plan of action on how to face the problem which eventually worked in his favor and allowed him to slip through it easily. 

Though such a feat, when presented by your brother to your father, was simply brushed off.

“Her words are nothing but a meaningless babble of a jealous child.” Your father sneered in your direction. “You, my son, are still the one that did all the work.” And praised your brother.

“Don’t listen to him, sis,” Gabriel said after your father dismissed you both from his study. “He knows I wouldn’t have succeeded without your help. Besides, I’m underboss now and you can be my consigliere.” 

Despite his encouraging words, you still felt defeated, knowing well that no matter what you do to help the family, the way he sees you will never change—a burden, someone with no caliber to the family, and the worst of all, the reason for your mother’s death. 

“He’s the child any parent would be proud to have!” 

The cheers that echo throughout the main room pull you away from your thoughts and you watch as the guests gather around your brother, clapping him on the back and giving him another round of congratulations. While you, the other child, remain unseen in the background. 

Not wanting to endure further any more of the festivities, you finish the remaining contents of your champagne flute in one gulp and set it down on one of the tables before making your way up to your room. You know no one will be looking for you or asking of your whereabouts. Hell, you doubt your father would even care if you left home right there and then.

Staring at your reflection in the full-length mirror, you begin taking off your jewelry and make to reach for the zip of your dress. But the sound of your door opening and closing draws your attention, a small smile grazing your lips upon seeing Curtis’ reflection when he stands behind you.

His usual black long-sleeved shirt is hidden underneath a black coat jacket. You also notice his beard is freshly trimmed, making you adore the way he looks—still gruff but with a splash of class.

You stare at his sapphire eyes as they grow serious with intent when he starts unzipping your dress. Rough hands move delicately over your skin and he pushes the straps from your shoulders, the fabric cascading down your body and pooling around your feet, leaving you only in your shoes and panties.

“You left the party.” He drones, arms slowly circling your middle before he leans down to press a kiss on the crook of your neck. 

“No one would look for me.” You sigh and turn to face him, leaning against his touch when his large hand cups the side of your face and his thumb rubs small circles on the apple of your cheek.

“I would.” he breathes, “I did.”

You close your eyes when he leans down and you lean up to meet him halfway, pressing your lips against his. He kisses you softly at first, exploring, gentle, and giving then you feel him pull you close, your hands pressing against his solid chest, and a soft moan leaves your lips when he deepens the kiss.

It wasn’t easy getting to where you and Curtis are now—remembering the day he joined your father’s men; a newbie to the syndicate and assigned to watch over the boss’ daughter.

His silence and grouchy exterior caused you unease, making you unable to trust him and simply go along with your father’s wishes just so as not to upset him. But as the months turned into a year, you grew to know him despite his lack of enthusiasm to talk and you slowly found a friend in the lonesome world of the syndicate.

He’d accompany you to errands your father would give you, an act of pity or a means to give in to your brother’s requests, and you felt nothing but safe in his company. Always standing guard even with no threats visible but you knew better than to question his judgment. He’d even lent a listening ear each time you would ramble on your frustrations about the lack of trust the family gives you and would give small words of comfort, telling you that you’re better than the leaders that run the business.

Eventually, your relationship blossomed, although in secret—Curtis sneaking into your room when you would call upon him or spending days with you at the family’s vacation home when your father would have you nowhere near the mansion when he had his capos over for meetings.

Aside from your brother, he’s the only one you trusted. A confidant you’ve always wanted and a lover you never knew you needed.

Your arms circle his neck, pulling him closer as you reciprocate the intensity of his kiss, tongues, and teeth clashing against each other. A giggle slips from your throat when he carefully, blindly walks you toward the expanse of your bed.

As your back hits the mattress, Curtis kneels on the ground, lifting your leg as his lips trail butterfly kisses down its length before wrapping his fingers around your ankles, one by one, taking off your heels and dropping them to the floor. 

Instinctively, you hook your leg over his shoulder and welcome him into your heat. His name leaves your lips in a series of soft moans, fingers skimming over his shoulders and then through his buzzed hair when his lips press against the front of your panties, tongue soaking through the fabric as he rolls it around your clothed clit. 

You feel him push your panties to the side, the cool air of your room kissing your heated skin, and your pelvis bucks against his mouth when he laves his tongue slowly against your slit and connects with your clit once more, flicking on the bud before wrapping his lips around it to suck on it hard.

“Curtis—!” you gasp his name, uncaring as your voice bounces against the walls of your bedroom, pulling him closer and slowly grinding your pussy against the warmth of his eager mouth. 

He doesn’t hold back and you don’t want him to, loving the way he takes and takes but at the same time gives you the pleasure that has been an addicting sensation each time he’d bury his face between your thighs. 

His beard only adds to the lust-filled sensation running through your veins, rubbing your sensitive skin raw and sending a wave of pleasure down to your toes. Your back arches and your breath hitches when he slips his tongue past your pussy folds, licking, tasting, and lapping up the nectar that pools at your core, a gift you willingly give and desire for him to take.

You feel the stirring at the pit of your stomach and you urge to pull away, to stop him from his worship. But he doesn’t relent, hooking his arms around your thighs, growling against your cunt that makes your skin shiver and you do no more but succumb to his control, whining as you feel yourself reaching your limit. 

“Curtis—please,” you beg and try to lift yourself by your elbows but the way he looks at you, piercing blue eyes meeting yours, have you convulsing, the intensity of the orgasm taking you by surprise that you tip your head back and call out his name, fingers digging into the duvet as your essence rushes out of you.

“Sweet as ever, princess,” he rumbles into your cunt and gives your clit one last kiss before licking you clean and pushing himself from the ground. 

You’re panting heavily, a smile of satisfaction etched on your face. It’s what you’ve needed to release the stress from the evening’s event and forget about the humiliation and dejection from your father. 

As you lay on the bed, limbs weak from the pleasure, you smile once more when you feel Curtis join you. He’s naked and warm and you immediately wrap your arms around him when he hovers over you, parting your legs wide to enfold them around him as he positions himself between them.

“Curtis—I need you.” you whimper, feeling the tip of his rub against your folds. “Please—”

“I know, princess,” he whispers, lips ghosting against your cheek before he presses his forehead against yours. “I know.”

-

With Curtis kneeling on the bed, his arms wrapped around you possessively, you gasp for air with your fingers scratching his skin raw while he sucks on your breast, his cock impaling you repeatedly and making you bounce against his thighs. 

He’s made you come twice now and it’s the third time he’s having his way with you, giving you no respite to have you breathe and only switching the position to take you once again. He’s eager and full of passion, a feat you’ve never seen before and you bask in it, allowing yourself to fall into his demands. 

He thrusts into you with pure hunger, teeth grazing against the nipple that makes you whine and meet him with each thrust, feeling his cock slide deeper and deeper into you as your cunt slickens further from the lust that cocoons you both.

You look down at him when he pulls away from your tit, sapphire eyes dark, blown wide, and laced with carnal desire. You lean down to kiss him and he meets your lips with a fiery intensity, laying his back on the bed and effortlessly pulling you on top of him. 

He swallows your moans when his pace quickens, fucking into you hard and fast, the sound of your skins slapping against each other filling your ears with the unrelenting tempo of his hips. You try to move your hips but he doesn’t let you, keeping you still as his arms tighten further around you.

He’s movements are frantic and reckless and you pull away from the kiss to take in air. But it only makes him latch his lips onto your neck, sucking on the skin and bruising it with his teeth, the sensation making you moan loudly when you feel yourself, once more, reaching your peak. 

“You’re mine, princess," he groans when he pulls away from your neck, his eyes boring into yours as he circles his hand on your nape. “You understand? You’re mine.”

“Yes,” you choke, pressing your forehead against his. “I’m yours.”

You feel his cock throbbing against your walls and your breath hitches, hands gripping him tight when the dam within you finally breaks, and your pussy walls flutter around him, your body spasming as you come hard and coat his cock with your essence. He doesn’t take long to follow after, the air in your lungs leaving you all at once when he gives a hard thrust, your name spilling from his lips in a form of a growl when he spills his seed deep within.

Exhaustion finally takes over and you lay limp over his solid chest, soft whimpers escaping your lips as he keeps grinding his pelvis against yours, fucking more of his come into you. You keep your eyes closed, too tired to even move a muscle or appreciate the post-sex haze. But a smile makes its way to your lips when he presses a kiss over your cheek, moaning softly when he wiggles his hips, keeping his cock snug inside your swollen cunt.

“Sleep, princess,” he mumbles against your hair, hands gently caressing your skin. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” His words act as a soothing balm, a comfort you desperately need and you snuggle in his hold, basking in his muscular scent and the warmth he gives you before your consciousness dwindles and you fall into a sated slumber.

But he’s nowhere to be found when you stir from your sleep, a vast bed and a muted darkness greeting you instead of the face of your lover. Though it doesn’t take away the peaceful smile that forms on your face and the delicious ache that sings deep in your bones. 

You try to hear if the party in the main room is still up and swinging but the time displayed on the clock says it’s way beyond midnight. You only hope that the festivities have been long over and that everyone has gone home and called it night but still, you don’t put it past your father to hold one of his private meetings with his capos now that your brother has joined the fold. 

Walking toward your closet, you put on a pair of pajama shorts and a night shirt before leaving your room, wanting to look for Curtis and grab a glass of water before heading back to bed. But as soon as you climb down the stairs, an odd feeling drenches you with the halls being eerily quiet and your father’s men that usually walk around the house nowhere to be found.

You make it to the kitchen, still set on your intent when a peal of chilling laughter sounds from the main room. The voice is somewhat familiar, one you’ve heard in your father’s meetings with his boss. But that can’t be—despite your lack of involvement in the syndicate, you know the rules that had been laid out for the others to follow. 

“Let’s see if these moves fuck!” The voice says with amusement.

An angry shout follows after followed by a pained grunt and you can tell it's your brother. Immediately, you run to the dining table and snatch the gun tied under it before stalking over to the main room, keeping to the walls to check on the unwanted visitors. But what you witness makes the bile crawl up your throat, a massacre of your father’s associates, the strong scent of metal wafting through the air as lifeless bodies are scattered across the floor. 

The walls of the room are painted crimson and men you don’t recognize stand still at the sides, armed and stoic while they watch the scene playing out before them; your father tied to a chair, gagged and beaten while your brother stands in front of him, protecting him. Blood trickles from his head and his left eye swollen, he holds up a knife, grip tight on the handle while he faces the enemy that taunts him. 

Lloyd Hansen is never supposed to set foot on your family’s territory. It’s the rules the elders have given when your father was gifted the city. But there he stands, looking pristine in his black turtle neck and blood-spattered white jeans with only the cut on his cheek and his disheveled hair giving away that he’s been fighting. But still, he holds himself in that cocky demeanor, the hair on his lip twitching when he smirks and taunts your brother. 

Before he could get close to your brother, you stand away from where you’re hiding and pull the trigger, a loud bang resounding through the walls as the bullet meets the marble floor by Lloyd’s feet, making both men flinch and Hansen’s men stand on alert, all guns pointed at you. 

“What the fuck?!” Lloyd shouts, his head turning and anger etched on his face when he faces you. “You almost shot me!”

“Stand down.” A voice calls in the room and you stand in shock when Curtis comes out from the shadows, a hand resting on Lloyd’s shoulder before walking over in your direction. “You’re not supposed to be here, princess.”

“Curtis—” you say in a rush, panic surging through your veins when he nears you. “What’s going on—”

“Stay away from him, sis!” Gabriel shouts, grunting in pain soon after when one of the men clad in black hits him in the back with a gun, making him drop to his knees. “He—” he wheezes, “he’s a traitor.”

“What—” you flinch when the gun is snatched from your hand, the firearm sliding across the floor. Curtis stands so close, his sapphire eyes laced with darkness as he rests his hands on your shoulders. “Curtis?” your lips quiver upon saying his name, the easiness slipping from your lips and replaced with fear. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that we’re taking over this worthless city, sunshine.” Lloyd answers from behind him, a smirk playing on his lips as he runs a hand through his hair. “Why don’t you tell her, boss?”

“Boss?” You blink in surprise and step back from Curtis, disbelief running through your head as you try to piece everything together. Your brother’s warning, Lloyd’s words and Curtis looking unscathed despite facing the enemy. “You’re—” anger surges through your veins and you ball your hands into fists, lunging at Curtis and beating at his chest. “You liar! You fucking used me!”

But you’re fighting a losing battle as he easily grabs your wrists and you yelp loudly in pain when he turns you around, twisting your arm and bending it behind you, your shoulder straining from his strength. 

“You let her go!” Your brother shouts in rage but Lloyd kicks him in the stomach, making him bowl over and drop himself on the floor. 

Curtis walks you into the vast room, having you stand over your brother and you cry when you see his condition, battered and bruised as he struggles to push his feet under him. But you only shout in agony as Lloyd kneels over him and continues to beat him, fists raining down on your little brother’s face, blood spilling from his mouth. 

“Watch carefully, princess.” Curtis drones, his other hand framing your chin as he forces you to face forward. “This is all thanks to you.”

“Why are you doing this?!” You shout as you continue to struggle against his hold. “Please—let him go! If you love me, Curtis, you’ll let him go.”

You feel him tense behind you and you’re washed with relief when he commands Lloyd to stop. 

Lloyd’s fist stops mid-air, a huff of annoyance leaving his lips before he stands and Curtis’ grip on you slackens, allowing you to stagger forward and kneel before your brother. You cradle his head as you try to wipe away the blood from his face. your tears flowing continuously as you stare down at him, watching him cling to life as you grab his hand and press it against your cheek.

“I’m here, baby brother.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his. “I’m here.”

You see a faint smile form on his face but a loud bang echoes in your ear, making you recoil in fear. But as soon as the chaos dissipates, you face your brother to check on him but stay stock still when he stares up at you with lifeless eyes, blood trickling from his head and staining your hands, seeing a bullet lodge in his head.

You scream in shock but more in agony as you shake him, and beg for him to be alive. But nothing comes out of it, not a sound or even a movement, making you cry out harder as you hold him to you, your baby brother—gone.

Another shot sounds and you snap your head to the side only to see your father slumped forward, his restraints holding him from falling off his seat. But he, too, met the same fate as your brother. You turn to see Curtis standing over you, the gun you previously had in your hand now in his and you pounce at him, rage taking over you as you try to attack him. 

But he easily fends you off by smacking the back of his hand against your cheek, making you drop down where your brother lays. You then wince when you’re pulled by your hair, making you look up to face Curtis who crouches in front of you, the hand holding the gun reaching over to caress your cheek that swells from his assault. 

“Why are you doing this?” You cry, defeat drenching you cold. “I thought you love me—”

“Love you?” The low drawl of his voice sends a chill up your spine, pulling away when he leans closer and presses his forehead against your own. “I don’t love you. I own you.” he spits and you feel your heart break at his words, all the comfort you felt with him shattering into dust. 

He did this—fooled you and your family, disguising himself as a bodyguard only to get information on the ins and outs of your father’s business. And the worst part? You showed him the way. With all your complaining and mindless ramblings, you were feeding him information that no one should have known. 

So, his words bear some truth, that this was all your doing.

“And along with that, everything your family has.” He smirks and your stomach rolls in disgust when he presses a kiss on your forehead.

underboss - 2nd in command to the boss

consigliere - trusted advisor of the boss

I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springlibrary and turn on notifications.

[ppeonppeonhan]

Songs That Remind Me of BL Characters & Couples

@zimmbzon kindly tagged me in their post, prompting me to share the first ten songs in my On Repeat playlist. Highly recommend checking theirs out, because mine is...rather basic. And becauuuuse it's basic, I'm gonna add another layer to this and tell you which BL character or couple perfectly matches the vibe of each song.

1 | "imperfect for you" by Ariana Grande: This one's off her new "please feel sad for me because even though I'm messy when it comes to love I still have feelings" album. I may have listened to this one "on repeat," because it's just cathartic to two-step to these lyrics: "I'm fucked up / anxious / too much / but I'll love you / like you need me to / imperfect for you." What's that? Self-awareness? Respect. I just know Ming from My Stand-In would have the audacity to sing this to body-swapped Joe.

2 | "Acid Dreams" by MAX and Felly: Could not tell you who either of these people are but this song is a snap-worthy bop that got me feeling myself every time it comes on -- probably because it opens with: "You look so good in a night gown girl / freckles on your face / lemme kiss each one." This was clearly meant for my generation, because there is not a single human under 30 in possession of a night gown. But Khem from Deep Night would 1,000% use this song to charm the pants off of someone.

3 | "Toco Toco To" by Dixson Waz: I'm Dominican. And even though I understand Spanish, I cannot for the life of me tell you what this man is saying, but I can assure you it is inappropriate. Rated NC-17 without a doubt. And for that reason, I'd pair this song with the entire cast of Playboyy -- just casually playing this in the background of one of their random, impromptu, midday sex parties.

4 | "Lie to Me" by Meghan Trainor: Obsessed. Not with her. With her music. She has so many non-butt-related songs that are worth a listen. I truly feel like she's underrated -- on par with Ed Sheeran -- and she doesn't get enough credit for it. In this track, she sings: "I don't want the truth / I want you." That sounds exactly like our lovesick boy Nick in Only Friends, thirsting after anti-monogamy Boston like he didn't know better.

5 | "Jealous" by Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, & Big Sean: While it is true that every single person on this track is problematic, including producer DJ Khaled, the swagger is immaculate. Every time it comes on, I, sincerely, close my eyes and just picture BTS's rap line to cleanse the beat. Not gonna miss out on a banger because men are the worst. Anywayyyy, the most jealous character I can think of is Way from Pit Babe, who tried to r-word his "bestie" because he chose a random nerd over him. He fits in well with these clowns.

6 | "Bounce Back" by Little Mix: The only British pop girl group I've ever intentionally streamed is Spice Girls, but the algorithm clearly thought it meant I'd like this group, and the track that hooked me was one that sampled the iconic Soul II Soul's "Back to Life." Instant replay. Someone I think lives and breathes the mantra "You can have me however you want me / however you need me" is the Sultan of Simp, Karan from Cherry Magic (Thailand). Achi could've asked for a kidney, and he would've delivered. But coming in a close second is obviously Rain from Love in the Air. Payu had to practically beat him off with a stick -- no pun intended.

7 | "Body" by Loud Luxury and Brando: It's the buildup to the chorus for me -- come to find out many listens later that it's about a guy who is begging a girl to sleep with him because he's been "waiting too long." 🙄 This one very obviously goes to Yuan from Unknown, who damn near disintegrated Qian's clothes the minute he saw even the glimmer of a green light. Talk about a slow build.

8 | "Into You" by Fabolous feat. Tamia: Back in 2003, rappers used to drop an R&B hit every now and then to remind women that they were romantics. The gaslight kings of the aughts. So in this track, this duo talks about an inexplicable-but-undeniable connection, which only makes me think of Vegas and Pete from KinnPorsche. Those two needed a PowerPoint presentation to explain to their friends and family how they went from hostage situation to star-crossed lovers. But we got nothing -- just good vibes and patricide.

9 | "i wonder..." by j-hope feat. Jung Kook: Do I miss them? Yes. Will I listen to any BTS track that's easy to Namjoon to? Yes. Now that we got that out of the way: This song is about enjoying the moment and not wasting the good times by dreading the future. And that just screams Be My Favorite to me. Kawi just kept trying to time-travel his way to a hetero fantasy, not realizing his queer happily ever after was standing right in front of him the whole time in the gorgeous form of the eternally patient Pisaeng.

10 | "MY HOUSE" by Beyoncé: Not to bring up BTS again, but 👀...j-hope would body any choreography set to this song. Without breaking a sweat. And mother would be proud. On this track, the Queen B speaks of once dreaming of the wealth, fame, and stability she has now, and making sure to only keep positive people around her, because love heals. Sailom from Dangerous Romance would certainly relate to having similar dreams and beliefs, and effortlessly exudes equally feisty bad bitch energy. I still can't get over how he disarmed his bully (and future love interest), Kanghan, by basically saying, "You clearly like me. Shut up." And saying it with tongue.

That was fun. 🤸🏿‍♂️

[casualdadnomad]

ATLA Modern High School AU (complete)

green: silly situation headcanons pink: ships orange: character headcanons blue: canon stuff in the AU

Complete collection of my high school AU! Predecessor to my current project which is the college AU :)

The Gaang Eats Stuff / / The Gaang Drinks Stuff / / Road Trip / / Small Town Shenanigans / / School Dance / / Quarantine Habits / / Gaang+Technology / / Kyoshi Color Guard / / Slumber Party / / Mega Ship Post / / Gaang Gets Jobs / / Favorite Shows/Movies / / Zukka+Technology / / Zuko+Toph Friendship / / Aesthetics Part One: Toph / / Aesthetics Part Two: Katara / / Modern Gaang + Curse Words / / Gaang Music Tastes / / Aesthetics Part Three: Aang / / Azula and Ozai Character Breakdown / / Modern Gaang + Ringtones / / Aesthetics Part 4: Suki / / Mai+Toph Friendship / / Gaang Game Night / / Toph+Sokka Friendship / / Hot Topic Mai / / MY FIRST GF TURNED INTO THE MOON!! / / High School Gaang Heights & Ages / / Modern Gaang + Plants

Modern Gaang Hobbies / / Modern Gaang + Pets / / Modern Gaang Emergency Contacts / / Sokka Drives His Friends Places / / Toph is a Zukka Shipper / / Background On Lu Ten / / Modern Gaang in the Autumn / / Social Media + Modern Gaang / / Toph is a Zukka Shipper Part Two / / Zukka + Graffiti / / The Gaang At Pride / / Guy’s Night / / Zukka Art Headcanons / / Zuko and Azula: Sibling Relationships / / Sokka’s Love Language (Zukka nonsense) / / Zukka Being Stupid feat. Katara and Toph / / Covid School Gaang / / Mai Lee Being Iconic / / Generalized Zukka Nonsense / / Birthdays With The Gaang / / Azula Friendships / / Toph Finds Out About Zukka / / Established Relationship Zukka

Most Embarrassing Moments / / Favorite Smells / / Toph is a Zukka Shipper Part Three / / Halloween Gaang!! / / Best and Worst Classes / / Girls Only Sleepover / / McDonald’s Incident Shenanigans / / Carnival Gaang Time / / Gaang x Among Us / / Cursed Glee Headcanons / / Gaang x Slang Words / / Favorite Sokka Headcanons / / Gaang Gets Ice Cream / / Modern Gaang in the Winter / / Modern Gaang and Alcohol lol / / Modern Tokka / / Gaang x Fandoms / / Gaang x Calendars / / More Zukka Headcanons / / Modern Sukka / / Gaang Arts Classes / / Group Chat Vibing / / Gaang Goes to Disney! / / Quotes As ATLA Characters / / Katara and Zuko are Homies!! / / COLLEGE Gaang LIVES together

more Toph&Sokka friendship stuff / / Zuko’s introduction to the gaang / / Gaang Origin Story / / Mai Lee at Hot Topic / / Modern Gaang Group Chat / / is a tomato a vegetable? / / Modern Gaang goes to Target / / Blue Spirit but make it MODERN / / Dungeons and Dragons with the Modern Gaang / / gays being gay / / Gaang and their Rooms / / Casual Bending in the AU / / Aang and Sokka being Bros 

Note: these are in chronological order so there might be continuity errors, i did all these over the course of like two years lol. If you finished this, check out my College Gaang AU, which I add to regularly!

[yvesdot]

Well, this is new! I watched the entire VMAs (just about) for the first time ever, and here is my official writeup—less so for Dots (certainly not a public-facing project), more for all my friends I want to gossip with. Here’s everything I’m going to be talking about for the next few days that happened at the VMAs, with helpful links to all the available clips.

Before anything happened, Kendrick released a new song on Instagram. This immediately trended alongside the VMAs for the rest of the night.

*

Chappell Roan snapped at a photographer on the red carpet. It’s still frankly unclear to me what happened—in the video I’ve seen passed around, you hear a voice in the background say “shut the fuck up,” to which Chappell turns and retorts, “you shut the fuck up!” When they apparently protest, she shuts them down, saying, “not me, bitch!” It’s unclear whether the photographer in question was originally talking to her, or to another photographer, and also whether she was accusing him of saying anything to her. I’m not personally invested in finding out more.

*

Eminem opened by performing “Houdini” and “Someone Save Me;” I showed up halfway through with the volume on mute and had no idea why that man was wearing the world’s worst blonde wig. I do think the obvious visual reference to his original VMAs “Slim Shady” performance is genuinely cute. It is unbelievable he still rapped the “If I was to ask for Megan Thee Stallion if she would collab with me / Would I really have a shot at a feat [shot at her feet]?” lines with Megan Thee Stallion hosting.

*

Megan was adorable and an excellent host. She is so funny, so genuine, so easy to watch and so good at balancing being personable and competent. Honestly, she and Chappell gave some very similar energy tonight and it made me wonder if they know each other (I am not very aware of Chappell things—yet!) She was also, naturally, exceptionally well-dressed. The crowd absolutely loved her.

*

Taylor immediately won the “Best Collaboration” award for Fornite with Post Malone, which began a streak of 7 awards won that night, mostly for that one song, despite the fact that her latest album has been one of her worst-received by fans and critics alike. (This is not a comment on whether the songs on the album are good or not, just on the relative success in comparison with her past work and the reception of other projects nominated. It’s surprising.) Her seven awards were the aforementioned Best Collaboration, Song of Summer, Best Pop, Artist of the Year, Best Direction, Best Editing, and Video of the Year at the end of the night. This ties her with Beyonce for most VMAs ever won. She also claims a number of other records, but I am not going to list all that. 

I will tell you that she opened this acceptance speech with “Waking up this morning in New York on September 11th, I’ve just been thinking about what happened 23 years ago; everyone who lost a loved one and everyone that we lost. That is the most important thing about today and everything that happens tonight falls behind that,” and then continued as if this had been a normal thing to say and/or she had not said it.

I’m still frustrated at the timing of her endorsement of Harris coincidentally last night. It feels too obviously set up to quell rising fan anger and ensure every award she won would be “untainted” by people’s criticisms of her.

*

Megan recreated the iconic Britney-with-a-snake look.

*

Sabrina Carpenter performed a lovely medley. She opened singing “Please Please Please” (with the “motherfucker!”) on a swing, descended to a couple of audio clips including the iconic Britney line about Titanic from her “Oops! I Did it Again” music video, performed “Taste” with an astronaut and an alien (she did kiss the femalien, though Britney Spears (!) commented she ought to have kissed a girl), and transitioned into “Espresso” with a few dozen astronaut backup dancers. I loved her outfit and especially the lipstick mark on her thigh (!!?!!), and I have to give her credit for doing this insane performance setup in front of both Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello, about whom “Taste” was allegedly written.

*

Katy Perry accepted the previously-announced Video Vanguard Award and performed a medley of tracks—in order, “Dark Horse,” “E.T.,” new track “I’m His, He’s Mine” featuring Doechii, “California Gurls,” “Teenage Dream,” “I Kissed a Girl” (rock version), “Firework,” and “Lifetimes.” You may notice that “Woman’s World” was nowhere on this list. Also, during their performance of “I’m His, He’s Mine,” Katy and Doechii scissored in a possible reference to Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s 2021 Grammys performance of W.A.P., and MTV cut directly to Orlando Bloom in a likely reference to the Britney/Madonna/Christina VMAs kiss where they cut to Justin Timberlake.

In my opinion, it was a great performance from the choice of tracks to the aesthetic(s) to her voice. She clearly still has it! However, people audibly booed when her name was announced and several times as she gave her speech, which, side note, opened with ““I did that all too on the first day of my period, if you can believe it!” It didn’t help that she chose to—well, look, here’s the whole thing, bold by me.

Can you believe it? Thank you so much to MTV for believing in my weirdness from day one and for helping artists extend their worlds beyond a song. There are so many things that have to align to have a long and successful career as an artist. There are no decade-long accidents. (a long, meaningful pause, during which people booed) So I would like to acknowledge a few people: my team who have been with me for over 20 years, direct management, and my label Capitol Records.

Trust me, it takes a village of strong people, a lot of healthy discourse, and a lot of group chats. My parents and my family, the deepest roots I know. We don’t always agree, but what a lesson that those disagreements can still be full of love. Thank you to MySpace, Warped Tour, and all the bygone places where I found a voice, identity, and a community so early on. Thank you to the friends that were there when my Jetta was repossessed. My Katy Cats: You stood by me for a lifetime, and the LGBTQ community who I recognize I would not be here without and who show me that you can be both kind and [bleeped out—”cunt”?]. Thank you to Orlando for keeping me grounded, celebrated, and doing the dishes. And lastly for my Daisy [her daughter], the only flowers I’ll ever need.

I’m excited when I look around music today, and I see all the amazing young artists who are operating with confidence, agency, vulnerability and authenticity. I’ve heard a lot of “Do this, don’t say that, wear less, wear more now. Hey, don’t cut your hair.” One of the biggest reasons I’m standing here right now is I learned how to block out all the noise that every single artist in this industry has to constantly fight against, especially women. I just wanna say with my whole heart, do whatever it takes to stay true to yourself and true to your art. Turn off social media, safeguard your mental health, pause, touch grass. And do what you were born to do just like I was born to do this. 143 comes out September 20. I love you!

I probably don’t need to say it, but I find it incredibly upsetting and disappointing that she would frame the criticism of her, which has centered almost entirely on her working with Dr. Luke, someone whom numerous women have accused of being misogynist and generally abusive, as “noise that women artists have to deal with.”

Also, I don’t have video proof of this, but they played a truly bizarre intro to the award where they called her “the queen of camp” and said “she’s a mother and she IS mother” and I don’t know what to do about that. They did play the world’s briefest audio snippet of “Woman’s World” during that.

*

Chappell Roan performed “Good Luck Babe” and nothing else, which nonetheless seemed to quiet upset fans whose shows were canceled with little notice last week due to the “scheduling conflict” of Chappell deciding to do the VMAs. I wish the mixing had been better; I could barely hear her voice! But the aesthetic was lovely (very Dorian Electra “Man to Man”) and the set was extremely well-used. She definitely seems unused to performing in this more regimented style, but there’s an infinite amount of time for her to either get comfortable with it or adapt it more to her usual performance method of running all over the stage.

*

Tyla won Best Afrobeats for “Water,” obviously. Lil Nas X (presenting the award with Halle) could be heard saying “But we already knew, though, right?” as she approached the stage. She gave the world’s most diplomatic speech which acknowledged that African music is (obviously) more diverse than the label “Afrobeats.”

*

Megan delivered an incredible medley performance: “BOA,” a sample of “Wanna Be,” “B.A.S,” a sample of “RATTLE,” “HISS,” and “MAMUSHI”—with a surprise appearance by featured artist Yuki Chiba, in a cool hat! And may I just say, for all-around stage presence, choreography, vocals, delivery, everything, Megan stole the show 100%. And that’s with all the ridiculous censoring she had to do! If you are not into Megan, you need to be, now. She is the moment.

*

Benson Boone did a flip (1:29) while performing “Beautiful Things,” a song I found myself hearing for the second time ever. It is apparently the song of the summer to many people. That’s cool! I genuinely had never heard it in my life before this week. He’s clearly an exceptionally talented performer, so let’s see where he goes.

*

Sabrina Carpenter won “Song of the Year” for “Espresso” and seemed genuinely shocked, somehow.

*

Halsey did an absolutely gorgeous performance of “Ego,” a song I hadn’t heard before but found myself liking. I should get into Halsey!

*

Camila, the other half (?) of the Camila-Shawn-Sabrina love triangle, with an album which underperformed (especially in comparison to Sabrina’s), faked out the audience (including her ex and his sometime-other-girl!) by pretending to play “June Gloom,” the closer from the standard edition of the album about why he runs back to her if he really likes Sabrina so much, and then cutting the recording off to actually sing “GODSPEED,” the closer off the deluxe version—and the latest single, dropped only last week. Apparently it’s the first track she wrote for this era, after a breakup with an entirely different ex. Point being, I give her a lot of props for just how much that moment rocked.

I suppose as a professional I ought to say all this is only allegedly what the songs are about. But, you know, we know.

*

You know Glorilla rocked the house down. Having seen her in SF, I could tell just how much she’d improved since then, not just in her performing skills generally but in her confidence. You go, Glo.

*

Chappell Roan won “Best New Artist” in a moment everyone saw coming a mile away and read her acceptance speech from her diary. She’s so cute!

*

Video of the Year went to Taylor and she shouted out “my boyfriend, Travis Kelce,” in her speech. This is not news, but people screamed like it was? She also told people to vote. None of this is really important to me but you need to know that I went to r/GaylorSwift again after several months’ abstention as a result of the way people were talking about it. People chanted Taylor’s name. Also, Megan initially opened the little card upside down, which was adorable.

*

Best performances of the night: Katy Perry, Megan Thee Stallion, and Halsey.

Most deserved wins of the night: 

Chappell Roan (Best New Artist)

“Espresso” (Song of the Year)

“Water” (Best Afrobeats)

“Mamushi” (Best Trending Video, though any pick might have been good)

“BOA” (Best Art Direction)

Biggest snubs of the night: 

“Not Like Us” (Song of Summer, “Fortnight”)

“Paparazzi” (VMAs Most Iconic Performance, “Roar” — a case where any other pick would have been better)

Sabrina Carpenter (Artist of the Year, Taylor Swift)

Glorilla & Megan Thee Stallion’s “Wanna Be” (Best Collaboration, “Fortnight”)

Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter (Best Pop, Taylor Swift)

“Too Sweet” (Best Alternative, “Beautiful Things”)

“Von dutch” (Best Cinematography, “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)”)

“Rush” by Troye Sivan and “greedy” by Tate Mcrae (Best Choreography, “Houdini”)

Additionally, “Espresso” was not nominated for Song of Summer (“Please Please Please” was), and Britney’s “Slave 4 U” was not nominated for VMAs Most Iconic Performance.

Here’s the full list of nominations and wins. 

Here’s my compilation of favorite outfits. Katy Perry wore a QR code tramp stamp which led to preorders for her album.

*

Other thoughts:

LISA and Anitta and Rauw Alejandro’s performances were also great! I don’t know that this was the best intro to their songs (my stream was not excellent quality) but I’m glad I stuck around!

Ads for HIV medication and Kamala Harris played throughout the night. There was one ad of Camila’s “I LUV IT” playing while she did insane things and drank Bacardi that almost made me dislike the song.

Charli not being anywhere near this event was criminal. I know she has the Sweat tour to rehearse for (I’m going to see her! AHHHH!!!!) but I really felt her absence. People also expected Taylor and Ariana to perform, and neither of them did—Ariana wasn’t even present! Lady Gaga wasn’t, either, which is a possible reason “Paparazzi” didn’t win Most Iconic VMAs Performance; apparently the VMAs prefer to give awards to artists who are present so they can give a live speech. Meanwhile, they gave Artist of the Year to Taylor Swift for the second year in a row and didn’t air it because she was walking in and out. Make of that what you will.

I successfully predicted the results of 5 awards (Best New Artist: Chappell Roan, Best Afrobeats: Tyla, Best Direction: Fortnight, Best Editing: Fortnight, and Video of the Year: Fortnight). Next year I might just start gambling and put it all on TSwift; it seems an easy victory.

Let me know if you want more of this sort of thing! I've done it for presidential debates in the past, too, though that was Patreon-exclusive. Heck, if I wasn't on hiatus, this might have been, too ^__^

[breadknight-likes-things]

Wait, Suicide Squad Kill The Justice League Is Fun?

I bought this years most dunked on game over the Steam Spring Sale, which is an impressive feat for the same year Skull and Bones came out, Suicide Squad. It's not really new information that people hated this video game, and honestly it's chock full of a litany of issues and deep seated flaws.....but also it's not even really a bad game? All the pre-release footage of this game did a terrible job communicating what the game feel of this video game actually is. If anything, this is some kind of bizarro Crackdown game with the DC license placed over top of it, and that's far from the worst thing I could have expected it to be! Hell, I'm having active fun playing this thing. Which going off the virulently negative reaction to everything about this game, I'm not sure I even expected going in. Even the story people seemed to hate with a burning passion isn't even that bad. Is it cynical and dark? Yeah. Is it still kinda funny even though it's those things? Also yeah, but then, this is a Suicide Squad story, Boomerang being human garbage is funny. Granted, it's wildly underdeveloped, there are gaps in the story that make little sense, and whole characters appear once and then just seem to fade entirely into the background, but it's far from the worst comic book story I've ever seen. If anything its main issue is inferring that all of this is in the Arkham game universe, which really just does not make that much sense. Could have easily just said it was a different one, but I guess that doesn't grab peoples attention as much. This game was never going to take off, really. It's genuinely gutted to its core to fit in as many inane Live Service things as possible, but there's still something here at the core. Something genuinely fun. Something worth at least trying. Too many repeated objectives? Oh yeah. Too many enemy types? Weirdly, yeah. Too few encounters with the titular Justice League? Again, yeah. Still, there's a good time here. Not an infinite one like this game is clearly desperate to be, but like 9-10 hours? Yeah, 9 hours of a good time seems like a fine exchange for my Steam sale money. I'm about to wrap my time with the game up, but they, I had fun.

[regulusblackfest]

Round Up 2

The second week of posting concludes with another great bunch of works! Thank you so much to all our creators, readers, and cheerleaders <3

Title: The Tale of Two Stars Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black & Sirius Black Medium/Word Count: art (with 1,664 words)

Summary:

Long ago, there was once a noble kingdom founded far above the earth and among the heavens. It was said that those who dwelled there were blessed with incredible feats of power. Among them were two brothers.

AO3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/55534549

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Title: Caged Bird Rating: Teen Warnings: None apply* Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black / Remus Lupin Medium/Word Count: 8K

Summary:

Regulus Black is a crow animagus.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55536199

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Title: Butterflies Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black/James Potter Rating: Teen + Warnings: No archive warnings Medium/Word Count: 34,590

Summary:

Regulus runs away with Sirius to the Potters. He and James fall in love slowly.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55407625/chapters/140583511

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Title: i hate it here Rating: M Warnings: Chose not to use archive warnings Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin Medium/Word Count: Fic / 6109 words

Summary:

Regulus dies a year before Sirius goes to Hogwarts, but for Sirius, he isn't really gone.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55546924

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Title: Waking Nightmare Pairing/main characters: Regulus Black / Slytherin Dormmates, Regulus Black / James Potter Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, chose not to use warnings (dead dove, see additional tags) Medium/Word Count: fic wc: 1.9k

Summary:

Regulus Black Fest 2024 Prompt: "Regulus waking up tied to a bed and gagged felt like his worst nightmare... but the nightmare had only just begun. By: just_a_whorecrux"

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55547509

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Title: A Twist of Fate Rating: M Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, pure-blood bigotry, morally gray Regulus, minor character death Pairing/Main Characters: Regulus, Sirius, Kreacher, Lily, James; gen with background Jily Word Count: 18,227

Summary:

“When the eighth month is born, the specter of death will loom over him - but if Regulus Black lives, the Dark Lord shall fall within a year” Upon hearing these words spoken by a Seer, Dumbledore asks Sirius to reach out and try to recruit his brother to their side. Regulus, however, has no idea yet about the prophecy or the Horcruxes and has no intention of turning against his Dark Lord.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55427557/chapters/140639452

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Title: if you want me too Rating: T Warnings: none Pairing/main character: Regulus Black/James Potter Medium/Word Count: fic, 1.5k words

Summary: 

Once a month Regulus Black submits himself to the torture that is a noisy pub. All for the purpose of defeating James Potter, again and again. 

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55537849

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Title: I Knew Everything When I Was Young Rating: T Warnings: pure-blood bigotry Main Characters: Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Dirk Cresswell Word Count: 4,379

Summary:

Sirius is a squib, and Regulus has no doubt that some mudblood is to blame. When he leaves for his first year at Hogwarts, he's determined to find whoever stole his brother's magic and force them to return it - but the more he investigates, the more the gaps and contradictions in his belief system become impossible to ignore.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55569799

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Title: Of Snitches & Wasps Rating: E Warnings: none apply Pairing/main characters: James Potter/Regulus Black Medium/Word Count: 10,218

Summary:

Regulus just wanted to be someone’s first choice. or, how the rivalry of Puddlemere United and the Wimbourne Wasps helped two idiots fall in love.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55499212