#i want to share what happening but also i at least kind of value my privacy. somewhat. ish.

[f2ucharacters]

need dopamine here is a wip

info may or may not be subject to change depending on how lazy i am when i export

this Fucking grid has been the bane of my existence for the past month or so (i hate coloring) theres one more coming up that looks positively awful to work on and one more i straight up havent sketched yet (which is very strange because theres like at least 10 grids after it that i've fully lined and some are even colored)

[cup-o-stars]

Relativity Falls!

Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):

Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.

I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.

Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.

Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.

Stanford and Stanley:

Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.

Fiddleford:

He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.

Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).

Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)

On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).

Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.

(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)

[sxorpiomooon]

D10 ASCENDANT AND WHAT IT MEANS

paid readings

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Aries-

You will never have a home office or working at home sort of thing. You WILL always have to present in order to earn money. This also means that you will also initiate the things, the one who will have to put all the effort to climb up in your life one man army is what I heard. Someone who will take all the risks. You will do all that taking the paths one cannot even imagine taking. Extremely ambitious and having an i am going to make it happen sort of approach. Facing so many challenges yet being able to accomplish things. You'll face the most challenges but will come out strong every single time. There is also a big karma regarding authority, you might have to be treated like a servant at times. You will be forced to follow the same routine everyday to climb up for a long time. You will also have to go through a major transformation with a death in your family. You will want to be in the actual setting to do something or feel the passion energy to do things. You will want to always have a mentor or guru in your life in your career, your problems will be solved with the help of the guru. Your communication will be very rough especially with small talk. You wil excel in works where you just have to do the actual work instead of communicating. You will have to physically get shit done. You will want to be a part of an organisation. This will be the kind of job that will make you run for everything. You will always be surrounded with people and competition having to prove yourself and will have to do some sort of corporate work at least once in your life. You will also always somehow have to impress someone by being at the right place at the right time. You will always want to be put in different kinds of teams just to rule them or just to come out as the one who shines the brightest. Also something that's seen is that these people usually never have the authority being nice to them and they have to work very hard to be picked by them.

Taurus-

You will go after the value of things, you will chase values. Before doing anything you will ask "what is in it for me" "how does it includes my value" etc. You will be inclined towards getting financial support in doing what you are doing, you will not be scared of asking for help. Very charming with your communication, charming and people will always be attracted towards you. Naturally will want to work with alot of people. You will love attending conferences they will help you in rising your status. You will be good at gathering people in one ideal place haha. Your business partnerships will always be 1-1. There will always be transformations in your career, the partnerships will come and go, your relationship with subordinate will always have struggle regarding passion you will always find partners that will not have as much as passion as you, they will be too analytical with you, you guys will not share the same vision on doing things or they won't see the value of things like you do. There will hardly be any collective interest on any topic. You will love speculative work and will have alot of several good support systems in your profession. Women in your career will bring you success. You will always want to have a strict boss because toullexcel under them, they wish for their authority to be firm. Travelling for your career will be very beneficial for you if not for money then for fame, your coworkers will have a strong emotional connection with you and will be very nourishing towards them. Commercial property will be seen and you will always gain from the politics of your office but will have issues with partnerships. There is also karma with marriage as in you might have a hard time balancing marriage and career as in either you'll be focusing too much on career and too little on your marriage or vice versa. When your mentor will pass away, you will stumble upon wealth out of nowhere. Their mentors will be very secretive. You will never share where/who you get your values from.

Gemini-

you will fulfill your karma through media, sports, marketing, writing etc in one way or another. You are naturally multi skilled to achieve your goals, you will do bunch of things to gain success and money. Major karma in dealing with daily routine, they will not want to be repetitive ever. You will like to be left alone and free in doing your work and making your money. You don't like people looking at you while you are working. They hate judgements regarding their work. You will have to take debt in career or marriage. You will love making money for food. You will want to try out expensive food for which you'll want to earn money. It will be your motivation to earn money and be successful. You will find respect only when you communicate as an authority. To be treated as a surperior, communicate and say your opinion. You might also feel restriction about sharing your opinions as in there will be a delimma regarding that. "I want to say something but I fear I'll be judged if I do so after" things like this might make you feel extremely restricted. Your marriage or first child birth will help your career in rising it could be a turning point especially in business the prestige and recognition will increase. You will be good at networking, you'll have a good circle. You will be good especially with men they might help you in your career. Extremely creative even with the smallest work you will finish the work with your own sparkle. You will personify everything also excellent at marketting anything that they're passionate about

Cancer-

You will play the most politics in work, you will know how to keep everyone in control and in your environment you will feel a need to control things sort of like also nourish anyone. You will be extremely selfish in your career, you will look out for yourself before anything or anyone else. You have major karma with your subordinates you will not be able to ignore any issue regarding them and will have to deal with it. You will be forced in situations where you'll be stuck. At one point in your career you will be embarassed at in a large group of people. You will be humiliated at work place. The entire situation will actually not be too big but you will make big for yourself. There will be a big blunder with finances in career or fame in career. You'll be very calculated in your career can be completely different in their workspace and personal life. Even calculative with communication you will want to get advantage of things. There will be alot of support networking circle for you because you'll be extremely hypnotic and charismatic. After you sign your home documents you'll have more leverage in career. You will lack mentors in your life and counselors at work will be very young for you. You will love to start your own projects etc.

Leo-

Only after birth of children career takes off, you will only want the kind of work where you'll be able to have subordinates. You will have alot of pride and will want to distribute tasks and show people working under you that you will also want to take care of them. You will always deal with opposition of large group of people but the authority will always have your back. You will see that they won't like most of your decisions. You have major karma with your offices or place of work. As long as you work you'll never have peace of mind as it'll always be disturbed by work in one way or another. Having a female or feminine boss will help you in excelling in your career, your mentors will always back you when you need them to and you will feel secure due to that. You will at some point be taking professional debt in behalf of your company etc. In business be very careful with this as it might be deritmental to your fame repaying for the loan will be hard. Your subordinates will always be more smarter than you and you will have to get their help. Unless people see that you working, you won't get the same amount of fame or respect. You will always sort of travel very emotionally there will be profit in business travel(if it's your own) once you sign or get your own first house.

Virgo-

You will always have unnecessarily enemies trying to bring you down out of no where in daily life no matter what profession, they will purposely try to stop you from finding some sucess or promotion atleast one or twice in life directly. There will be alot of rumors said about you. Serving will be the most important thing for you, it will be a need want and an obligation to the society. Any career won't work out if you take something from people your health will suffer. You will have to take debts to progress in life. After a girl will be born in household your health, career will improve. You enemies will disappear. You will have to take care of administrative duties frequently as in accounts finances etc. your communication with your boss will be the best especially when they're younger to you. You will also see your older bosses always seeing you as a competition or challenge. You will always have ups and downs with your coworkers and will go through a major transformation when a co worker will pass away but will have the best subordinate. Might have one student or subordinate that will have some sort of injury to limbs. Any female mentor that you have especially one that is in some way connected to foreign will give you million dollar advices.

Libra-

You will feel an imbalance and unfairness in your partnerships whether it's in marriage or a proper business partnership. You will always somehow be dominated by your partner, even in their marriage uou will be dominated by the other person or atleast it'll be seen like that. Even if your partner is a very kind person people will always sort of see it like them having this power over you or being assertive and dominant over you. You will try out business atleast once or twice in your life but it will remain extremely unfair as stated above. Your life will become about other people. Sharing everything, naturally always wanting to mother their working environment. You will also have really moody bosses lmao and will face very awkward situations with them. You will also become selfish, forgeful and dramatic in your communication. You will like to publish and write and will indirectly or directly have to publish something once in your life I heard "land in an opportunity". Your coworkers will become your real mentor and you will find the most wisdom from there. Your real actual bosses will always be like a friend for you lmao. You will always be chatting with them and there will be constant communication. You will have really powerful connections and will always need or require a partner in order to feel balanced. There will also be unbalanced transformation with money and you'll learn to to save alot of money due to that. You will always have subordinate that will be eccentric and hard to understand. You will also attend many confrences with your subordinate and will gain alot of money from them including insights. You will love to work in a home like setting and will have the least amount of enemies in career

Scorpio-

major karma and will go through many ups and downs and transformation before you make it. Will have to go through the lowest of the lowest and highest of the highest, involvement with hidden wealth secret dealings gain and will attain secret information through which you will rise. You will also have to deal with secret contracts in order to grow. You will see that birth of children will be important for fame and to gain authority you must support group of children in some way donate if you can if not money then time. You will always be the most excellent vocalist or speakers since you'll have tremendous wisdom even when you are young due to going through so many transformations. It is not what you are communicating but how you are communicating. Guru is important help to accumulate wealth and success. Sexual relationship will connect you to success and you will be excellent at last minute negotiation and dealings. Take care of the plumbing issues in your career as it'll affect your fame and health. Spouse will have best ideas for you in terms of making money. You will be extremely interested in politics after the age 34 or 40. You will also want to fight for a cause. There can also be addiction issues so take care of that. You will have a great bond with a person who will be from the foreign lands. There will be a sistery or brotherly sort of bond. A job where projects keep changing will be extremely beneficial for you.

Saggitarius -

You have the ability to teach and counsel in your work. You will be extremely strategic in your work and will have to display the ability to perform and teach others during work at the same time. You will sort of be like dictionary of wisdom, sort of like a "coach" to others improve other people work while doing yours. You will value information and knowledge more than anything. It will be your most perseved asset being more valuable than money and will have a very professional way of communication. You will get the message across. Your coworkers will be eccentric and moody extremely scientific too. You will be extremely negotiable with your career to the public. Very liberal indivualised thought process will have very harmonious subordinates. Your business competition will have very childlike communication and enemies will always be amateur than you. Your partners won't have the same level of knowledge as you but your partnership will work out well. You will have a sort of father child dynamic with them. You hide emotions insecurities in your workspace. Your authority will be powerful and will be nitpicking but they'll help you in improving your career. Your mentor will be connected with government in one point of your life and your professional network circle will be good.

Capricorn-

You will give extreme importance to having a title for example phd ceo etc. The title will make you feel as if now you can do something or are something. Extremely workoholic and extremely feminine in your workplace won't be aggresive or rude but very moody. You will love having partnerships this also includes having a pa etc. it will be something you will need, want and cherish. Your emotional stability will depends on that particular partnership you will completely rely on them and will feel like you can't function without them. You will pay them the most to satisfy them. You will also extremely eccentric to confused with your savings as in one moment you'll want to save it and another moment you'll want to spend it on buying some big ass random shit. You will have the most polite communication with people yet people working with you will be the most oblivion to your dreams and communication. They will not understand what you mean and want. You will have a strange bond with your female boss and it'll take alot from you to balance your relationship with them. You will be satisfied hrough your subordinates and when you hire or have people working under you. You will have foreign mentor gives you wisdom and who helps you this person will be nitpicky and detail orientated. They will be enemies with much younger and childish people and will always have words of words with them.

Aquarius-

You will be a part of a large organisation, large group setting and will want to be part of collective to execute work. You will want to attend conference work and will be easily influenced by activitism. You will be very political and will get sucessful through powerful partner yet will never be able to accept that. You will want to be free and make your own decisions and will have a love/hate relationship will that. As in you'll gain with them yet you'll hate to accept that. After the birth of first child especially with women within three weeks you will get a higher status in life. You will be extremely emotional and attached to your work. Your work can drive you mad too and emotional stability will depend on your career. You will hate to get involved with enemies and won't like to deal with it at all your relationship with mentor will always be turbent and will always have ups and downs. You will see that after passing away of some authority there will be a major transformation in career. you will have to service to goverment or boss with the little pay or respect as in it won't be balanced or fair in some way. You will get along with subordinates and will have alot of exchange of ideas with them. Your communication will be straightforward and people will have to actually spend some time with you to get your communication or understand it atleast third. You can be very radical and will think that you are right and everything else is an attack on you. You will have boundaries in doing your work, will find the most unorthodox way of doing work that others will not get. Network circle will always have mature, religious, philosophical people in it. Might have to go to a foreign place to establish themselves or foreign company. You will get wealth and money by listening to a mentor guru but will hate to accept that the guru knows more than them

Pisces-

You will always be on the move, always looking for a change and actively looking for opportunities. You become the protector in your career. Great importance of safety through your careerand will be the one who guides. You will have strong connection with farway bodies as in across oceans. Trouble with communication as you can be the most harshest communicators. Very direct and blunt in your communication as in "what is wrong" "fix this" etc short and direct. You value people being proactive and only respect people who are like this. You will love starting new career or projects. You will have beautiful relationship with your coworkers and will tind great joy through your work. You will also always have subordinate who will take care of you and will be very nourishing towards you might even take care of you when you are sick. You will always have powerful business competition or rivals. There might be issues with govt some sort of debt major transformation in expenses and mentors. You will love having secret work relationships, you will find it exciting. You will always have educated bosses at authority. You will have connection with highly political people. One of them might even become your rival so be careful with that. You will love to attend conferences in foreign land and will have to spend a lot of money on that but usually you guys are blessed by a devi(goddess) to do well financially

Thankyou sm!!!

alot of this is taken from krs channel and other pdfs found on google and a very few of them are my observations since most people around me are not yet working or doing anything regarding their career if you can and want to help me by sharing your or your loved ones d10 chart for me to make my own observations please feel free to do so I'll be very grateful<3

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x jack daniels

genre: smut, minors dni, dude ranch au, modern au

word count: 7.7k

summary: joel challenges jack to make you into the finest there possibly is in two days.

warnings: threesome (mfm), mlm dynamics, some jealousy, outdoor sex, piv, oral sex, dirty talking

a/n: happy birthday @fuckyeahdindjarin 🎉 I hope you enjoy you slutty cowboys--both of them nearly gave me a heart-attack while writing ❤️‍🔥 this gif was made my the lovely @pedrorascal who I am so grateful for helping me out preparing your this bday surprise!

**dividers by @saradika

You take a breath and sneak out of the cozy room. It had been hard parting away from your cozy bed. The warmth provided by the hand-knitted blanket and the scent of delicious wood made you want to never leave. They’ve really done a great job decorating the rooms of the dude ranch. It still holds the Western theme you love, but it's also adorned with rustic charm, from the weathered leather furniture to the handcrafted wooden accents, creating a welcoming atmosphere.

It had been a couple of days since your arrival. You were tired of... well, everything and desperately needed an out. You wish you could say that it happened like in the movies— a divine sign that made you come here, but no. There was no divine intervention, no mysterious flyer sticking to your face. You had to do an endless amount of research to find the perfect place, and when you were done, you picked the ranch that had the least foot traffic. You were running away from people. Choosing the most touristy one would defeat the purpose—you wanted to be alone.

And you were glad that you did. The place was amazing. Surrounded by large mountains and wide fields. This place wasn’t so people would come and see what was what. It was an actual ranch with actual people working all the time. Accepting guests was the side hustle and not the other way around. 

There were two cowboys that you constantly saw: Joel Miller and Jack Daniels. Both charming, both handsome enough to make you want to scream. Jack had been personally assigned to you, but Joel was always around, watching, observing, and, of course, running his mouth. You’ve grown accustomed to their odd friendship... rivalry? It was actually kind of cute to see Jack turn all red whenever Joel said something to undermine him. And the other seemed to know that well.

Two talented cowboys. And you, who had no idea what the hell you were doing. 

Which is why you were escaping your room like some kind of criminal at the brink of dawn. Joel’s teasing wasn’t only reserved for Jack, you got your fair share as well and it was even worse when Jack chimed in—the two seasoned horse riders letting you know just how out of your element you were. You needed to train without those two constantly spitting quips your way.

You silently make your way to the stables and blindly reach out towards Honeydust, the palomino Jack had gotten you accustomed to. You gently guide her away from the other horses. The rose-pink light of dawn has begun to trickle through the open windows, painting Honeydust’s coat in a gorgeous hue. You regret not bringing your phone; you would’ve loved to show Jack and Joel later on.

“Alright girl,” you mutter as you pat the side of her face. She whinnies slightly and digs her hoof into the ground. “It’s you and me. Let’s show them how it’s done.” 

As you reach for the saddle, you smile to yourself. You might not be that good at horse riding yet but you did learn some things—like the value of a good saddle. You take a moment to inhale the scent of it— a mix of leather, hay, and a hint of earthiness.

Honeydust stands patiently, seemingly aware of your fumbling attempts to secure the saddle. You take a deep breath, remembering the lessons Jack patiently gave you about saddling up. Slowly but surely, you manage to get everything in place. As you tighten the cinch, you feel a sense of accomplishment. A week ago, you hadn’t been able to do this. Maybe you're not a full-on cowboy, but you're determined to learn the ropes.

With the saddle secured, you grab the reins and lead Honeydust out of the stable, into the cool morning air. The sky is a canvas of pastel colors—blues, pinks, and golds blending together as the sun inches higher. It's a breathtaking sight. You pat Honeydust on the muzzle and press your cheek against her, watching the sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful,” you whisper to her. “Honestly I’m gonna hate going back. It’s been a couple of days and I’m already attached to this place.” 

Honeydust snorts and shakes her head. You smile wide as you pat her again, “You’re right. No room for sentimentality.” 

Mounting Honeydust, you settle into the saddle, adjusting to the feel of it beneath you. The quiet creak of leather is drowned out by the sounds of the waking ranch. Birds chirp in the distance, and you take a deep breath, your lungs filling with the fresh scent of the outdoors—

But then you’re slipping. 

And then falling. 

With a loud, sharp gasp, you find yourself unexpectedly upside down beneath Honeydust's belly. Panic sets in as you register the proximity of her powerful legs, your eyes widen, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. Honeydust remains still, your body still miraculously hanging to the saddle. 

Your heartbeat starts to slow, you take a deep breath. You’re fine. You’re okay. You just forgot to fasten one of the belts. 

“Need any help there, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. Busted. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, emphasizing the latter. Jean-clad legs come into view. “Just. . . trying a new riding style.” 

“Is that so?” Joel drawls, amusement dripping with every word. “And what would you call this one? The hangin’ fool?” 

“Rude.” 

His hips cock to the side and you see him placing both hands on his narrow hips, “Would it be better if I called it the hangin’ beauty?” 

“Yes actually, it would.” 

Your cheeks warm as he steps closer. You try not to stare, or perhaps that’s just you lying to yourself, but whatever your true intention was your eyes linger right over his crotch. Even with the thick jeans and the belt buckle, you know he’s packing underneath there. You can especially tell now since this is the closest you’ve ever been to it. Your mouth waters. Your brain delving further into sinful imagination when his low chuckle echoes in your ear. 

“A’right then beautiful, let’s get you out here.” he stops for a beat, his knuckles brushing down the outer part of your leg. You shudder, your legs tighten around Honeydust. “Unless you wanna show me this new ridin’ style of yours?” 

“You know what, I think I’ll take a rain check on that.” your voice is shrill and pitchy. Your eyes start to throb. “Especially since all the blood in my body is currently in my head.” 

“Oh shit—Okay, just gimme a sec.” he slides his hands under your armpits. “A’right now let go.” 

“What?” 

“Just let go, sweetheart. I got you. You’ll be okay, promise.” 

With a sharp breath, you close your eyes and loosen your legs. Joel's arms wrap further beneath yours, drawing you closer. You feel the tightening of his biceps, feel the huff of his breath against your cheek. He takes a step back and suddenly unbalanced, he falls backward, pulling you along.

With a huff, Joel lands on his ass, and you find yourself comfortably nestled against his chest. It takes you only a second for your gaze to find his. You hold your breath and so does he. His hand pleasantly curls around your waist, keeping you from moving away. His chest is firm under your own, your nipples tightening when you shift a bit, the graze of fabric makes you shudder. 

His other hand comes to brush a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You swallow not once but twice. The warmth of Joel’s palm cradles your cheek and a slow breath exits your lungs. 

“You a’right?” 

“Y—Yeah. . . thanks for helping me out.” 

“My pleasure.” His voice is deep, hoarse even, and it scratches your ears just right. You find yourself drawn to him. Your eyes dropping to his lips and back up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. His lips part. The divot in the middle of his bottom lip more prominent than ever. You lean in without a thought, he mimics you, coming in closer and closer. Your chest heaves. Your heart beating madly against your chest. 

“What the hell are you two doin’ canoodling here?” 

You jerk away, your eyes lingering on Joel long enough to see the disappointment in his gaze. His eyes close slowly and he takes a ragged breath. Shifting slightly you see Jack holding a hay bale. His eyes are narrowed, his brows knitted together as his gaze flits between you and Joel. You chew the inside of your cheek, embarrassment heating you from the inside out. 

“We ain’t canoodlin’,” Joel answers, agitated. “I found her hanging upside down under Honeydust’s belly. Who’s fault do you think is that?” 

Jack’s mouth opens and closes, his cheeks suddenly flushed. His gloved hands tighten around the hay as he pushes it up his arms. Then finally, with a softened gaze, he turns to you. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you reply, your heart currently beating in your throat. “I just forgot to fasten the other side of the saddle.” 

Joel squeezes your waist and you’re suddenly hyper-aware that you’re basically on his lap still. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You have a shit teacher.” 

“Excuse me?” Jack’s tone is enough to have you scrambling off of Joel’s lap. If looks could kill, Joel would be dead right now. On your feet, you move towards Honeydust, and with great comfort, she nuzzles your chest. Joel smiles lazily when Jack drops the bale of hay and walks up to him. “You better take that back, old man.” 

“Yeah?” his eyes glow with mirth. “Make me.” 

Involuntarily you cover your mouth with a hand. Is it bad that you’re secretly enjoying this? The amount of testosterone in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Joel slowly gets up, as if he has all the time in the world, and faces Jack. He’s slightly taller than the latter, smile still tugging at his lips as he tilts his head ever so slightly down. Jack’s nostrils flare. 

“You want me to knock you out in front of our guest?” 

“I’d love to see you try.” 

Joel takes another step closer, his chest nearly flushed against the other, he jerks his head to the side and places his hands on his hips. You swear you see Jack’s skin darkening with a deep shade of red from his chest to his neck. His jaw is wired tight, the muscle there twitching. 

“How about this,” Joel grins. “You manage to make our sweet girl here a full-on cowgirl in two days and I’ll eat my words right outta your hand, Whiskey.” 

Jack huffs and clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me that.” 

“It’s your name isn’t it?” 

“It ain’t and you know it.” 

“Your parents shouldn’t have named you Jack Daniels,” Joel rolls his eyes, “Do we have a deal or not?” 

You hold your breath when Joel extends a hand. Jack’s eyes briefly find yours, his fingers twitching. The morning chill is still in the air and despite it, beads of sweat appear on your skin. Two days. Two days and you still don’t know how to put on a saddle right. With a small shake, you attempt to warn Jack but that only makes him smile. 

He turns to Joel, “Deal,” he answers, taking his hand. “Two days. Be ready to eat your words, old man.” 

They shake on it and as they do Joel gives you a not so subtle wink. It reminds you of just how close the two of you were a mere couple of minutes ago. You avert your gaze, suddenly shy to face him, and think about what might’ve happened if Jack hadn’t interrupted. 

When Joel leaves, Jack lets out a long sigh and turns to you. 

“You slipped, darlin’, really?” 

“In my defense, it was early.” 

“Fuckin’ hell.” He shakes his head but you see the way his lips curl upwards ever so slightly. “Anyway, wait for me here and I’ll be right back. We gotta get you into tip-top shape because I ain’t gonna lose to Joel.” 

“I warned you, you know,” you softly kick the dirt with the tip of your boot. 

Jack’s tongue moves over his bottom lip, a shudder crawls up your spine and heat pools between your legs. He grips the bale of hay and throws it over his shoulder. 

“That’s why I accepted the challenge, sugar. No guest of mine is gonna leave here without feelin’ like they can conquer the world.” 

“Jack this is impossible I’m never going to get the hang of this.” 

“With that attitude you sure ain’t gonna.” 

With a crooked smile, Jack watches as you draw your shoulders together and stomp your boot against the soil. The lasso is tight between your fingers, the tips of which are chafed from turning the lasso again and again in an attempt to loop the rope around one of the wooden posts. He tilts his head to the side when you turn to him, a pleading expression etched onto your beautiful face.

"This is never going to happen," you huff. However, instead of keeping his eyes locked on yours, his gaze drops to where your flannel hugs your breasts, the poor buttons struggling to keep it all together. His cock swells at the thought of licking them, sucking on your hard nipples while the sweetest noises flee from your lips. "Jack?"

He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s been staring at your gorgeous tits, he drags his gaze back slowly, his smile only growing upon seeing your parted lips and glazed eyes. “Yeah, sugar?” 

“We’re never going to win this thing with Joel,” you say and he doesn’t fail to notice how breathless you suddenly are. “How am I supposed to learn to do everything a cowboy can in two days? Seems a bit unfair.” 

“Not everythin’,” he struts towards you and peels the lasso from your fingers. “We just need to cover the basics. No one is expectin’ you to catch a knife in mid-air with a lasso.” 

Your brows furrow, “What? You’re saying you can actually do that?” 

“‘Course I can,” he chirps back. “Unlike you, I’m a top-notch cowboy.” 

His heart breaks a little when he sees how defeated you look, with a small nudge to your shoulder, he draws your gaze back to him. “Want me to show you again darlin’?” 

“Sure but I’m not sure it’ll do me any good. I’m horrible at this.” 

With a reassuring grin, Jack steps back, unwinding the lasso he took from you. He takes a moment to adjust the coils and then demonstrates the art of lassoing, the rope flying through the air in a graceful arc before landing perfectly around a wooden post.

“You see, it's all in the wrist,” he explains as he smoothly tightens the loop, making it look deceptively easy. He repeats the motion a couple of times, each throw precise and controlled.

“You know who’s really good at this?” he asks, returning his attention to you. “Joel.”

You snort, “I feel like that man is good at everything. But I’m not sure why you’re telling me that.”

“Well, you know who used to suck at it—me.”

“You?” you raise a sole eyebrow, and a teasing smile touches your lips. “You who can catch a knife in the air, supposedly, that is.”

“It takes a lot of practice, sugar. That's what I’m tryin’ to tell ya. I sucked at it. Couldn’t even do one loop. Then the old timer helped me out.”

“Joel?”

Yup," he says, noticing your shock. He had been shocked too when the man had shown him how to properly do it. It was both amazing and terrifying. Jack had never had someone care about him enough to actually show him how it's done instead of letting him struggle on his own. "And eventually, I got the hang of it. So will you.”

You smile wholeheartedly and take the lasso from him, “Thanks, Jack. I. . . I appreciate it. You actually really respect him, don’t you? Despite all the banter and arguing.” 

“That’s just how I show love, darlin’.” 

“You never argue with me.” 

His eyebrows tilt up, along with the corner of his lips. You avert your eyes as you loosely hold the rope in your hand, the exercise quickly forgotten. Jack closes the distance until there's only a breath of space between you two. He entertains the idea of lifting your head by the chin, forcing your gaze upon him, but he refrains. He wants you to listen to him and oblige.

“Look at me, darlin’,” His eyes shine with delight when you do, he leans closer. “You want me to fight you?” 

Your brows furrow, your lips forming the most adorable pout, “No. Of course not.” 

“You sure?” This time he does cup your cheek to keep your gaze fixed on him. His pinkies move towards your neck, drawing soft patterns up and down your skin. You visibly shudder, a soft breath escaping your lips. “I see how you watch when Joel and I start to bitch and moan at each other, sugar. You sure you’re not into it even a little?” 

He knows your answer. But he allows you to giggle and escape his hold anyway. “You’re ridiculous,” you say and as a response Jack wants to touch on the fact that you can’t look at him anymore, however, he’ll allow you to escape him for now. 

“Come on then, now that you got your giggles on, let’s see you at least pull in one of those cones.” 

While you attempt to just do that, Jack ends up regretting teasing you because he ends up thinking about Joel instead. It’s hard to admit that the constant bickering is the obvious telltale sign of something more. And he knows there’s something. Joel only weaponizes his tongue when you’re around. Or someone else for that matter. But when it’s just the two of them it’s different. It’s lingering touches and heavy scotch-filled conversations. Sometimes Joel would even whisper so he wouldn’t wake the others. Jack shivers as he remembers how Joel’s lips felt against the shell of his ear. Downright sinful. 

It always remained at that, however. Touches and looks and talks. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Jack,” you say, your voice drawing him away from thoughts he’s happy to be drawn away from. “How did you end up here? Like with Joel and the rest.” 

“It’s not much of a story. I was lookin’ for a job and came here lookin’ for one.” He lifts his hat and combs his hair back with his fingers. “I actually met Tommy first. Joel doesn’t like the hiring process and says his younger brother is a better judge of character. I met him after I was hired. Then I met the little munchkins.” 

“You mean Sarah and Ellie?” 

“Yes ma’am I do,” he reaches forward, letting his fingers nearly brush yours. He chuckles, "I also know what you're doing, so stop stalling and throw the damn lasso already."

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and all Jack wants to do is pry it away from the sharp edges, "Oh, are we arguing? Should I add this moment to my journal?” you manage to lock your gaze with his, a grin spreading across your face. “Does this mean you love me?" 

He takes a step closer, leaning ever so slightly into your personal space. A hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, he breathes, "How 'bout this? You throw that rope, and I'll kiss you, sweetheart. Then you’ll really know what I feel."

Your eyes widen, "You’ll... excuse me?"

A wicked glint in his eyes, he quips, "I'll kiss you, full-blown on the lips. And believe me, it'll be my pleasure to lay one on you."

"Just throw the rope? Aren't you selling a bit short?"

Jack takes another step towards you and you can feel the heat radiating from him. His voice low and husky, he counters, "Fine then, manage to actually lasso something, and then I'll kiss you."

"You're mean. You said you'd only do it if I threw it." You challenge him by taking a step closer and he’s delighted to see it. 

Cupping her face in his hands, he grins, "Changed my mind. And you have yourself to blame for it."

With all his heart Jack wishes for you to make the throw. Something primal and ugly in him finds extreme joy in being the one to kiss you first. He hated to admit it, but his heart broke a little when he found you and Joel together, lips almost about to touch. He hated feeling like an outsider. Especially when it came from Joel.

With a determined glint in your eyes, you take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Gripping the lasso in your hands, you start to swing it in a circular motion above your head. It’s sloppy and uneven but he can see how much care you’ve put into your stance. Jack watches intently, noting the way you shift your weight from one food to another, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

As the lasso gains momentum, you release it at just the right moment. It sails through the air, forming a perfect loop. Jack's eyes follow its trajectory, silently urging it to find its mark. The loop descends gracefully, and, with a satisfying thud, it settles around a nearby plastic cone and you pull it towards yourself, the plastic moving with ease. 

A triumphant grin breaks across your face as you complete the throw. “I did it,” you gasp in a low tone, panting. Your head suddenly snaps towards him, a shit-eating grin plastered over your perfect lips. “I DID IT!”  

Jack only smiles as he leans in and cradles your face in a rush. He crashes into you, lips meeting yours in an eager, lingering kiss. He teases the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue. Just a brief preview of how badly he wants this to happen. His hands slip to your ass, kneading the plump flesh, his cock stiffens at how you moan into his mouth. You press against him and Jack can’t help but roll his hips to feel more of you. It’s been so long. Too long since he felt something warm and tight around his cock. 

He parts away by dragging his lips down to your chin and from there to your neck. He nips at your pulse, feeling it beating against his mouth. 

“Jack,” you breathe. “I—Wow—” 

“Kissin’ is one thing I’m better at,” he chuckles deeply into your ear. “Among other things.” 

He holds you by the neck and gently pulls away. He can’t get enough of the expression you’re giving him; pupils blown and lips slightly parted. Your chest heaves heavily, your pulse beating wildly under his palm. Jack brushes your lips together, smiling upon hearing you whimper. 

“Now, throw that lasso again and I’ll give you another kiss.” 

And it all comes down to horse riding. You should be surprised but you’re not. 

The sun was finally setting over the ranch. A subtle chill settling at the base of your snake as the sun went down. It had been a tiring day full of lasso throwing, ax throwing, and knotting. Your back ached and when the final challenge finally befell you all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep. The only thing that gave you an ounce of energy was Jack’s proud smile after every challenge that was won. Joel seemed genuinely impressed. And you were genuinely surprised to find yourself acing every task. Seeing how smug Jack got made your heart flutter and stomach draw tight. 

The two of you had done a lot of kissing that day. It hadn’t gone any further but deep down you really wanted it to. 

You feel a deep sense of Deja Vu when you find yourself staring at Honeydust with a saddle in hand. You take a deep breath, fingers tightening around the leather. The open air gives you a sense of calm, the cloudy sky a pleasure to gaze upon.

Jack touches the small of your back, goosebumps rising across your skin at the gentle touch, “You got this darlin’ don’t worry so much.” 

You briefly glance at the track Joel and Jack had set up for you. Wooden fences stand tall at various intervals, creating a series of jumps that make you sweat just by thinking about them. Your eyes linger on the strategically placed cones that form a zigzag pattern. 

“Honestly no matter what happens I’m impressed,” Joel cuts in, cupping Honeydust’s cheek. Your gaze moves deftly from the track to the man standing before you. As always, he looks amazing in his red and yellow flannel. “You’ve done well sweetheart.” 

“Maybe you should just forfeit and accept we won then,” you answer, smiling. Joel shakes his head. 

“Someone is sure of herself.” 

“Hell yeah, I am.” 

“Look at that,” Jack pipes. “Soundin’ like a true cowboy already.” 

You expertly secure the saddle onto Honeydust's back. The leather feels cool beneath your fingertips as you tighten the straps, ensuring a snug fit. Adjusting the stirrups, you make sure they're the perfect length for your legs. As you stand beside the horse, you can feel the intensity of Joel and Jack's gazes on you. Their eyes trace the curves of your movements, a subtle tension lingering in the air.

With everything in place, you take a deliberate breath and swing yourself onto the saddle. The leather creaks slightly under your weight as you settle into position. Honeydust shifts beneath you. You catch Joel's gaze, and a sly smirk plays on his lips. His eyes linger a moment longer than necessary, you let out a puff of air, your legs tighten around Honeydust..

"Remember, just go with the flow. You and Honeydust are a team," Jack advises and with that, you head off. 

Gently nudging your heels against the horse's side, you urge Honeydust into a graceful gallop around the track. The steadying thud of her hooves pounding against the dirt creates a harmony that molds with the song of the wind, transporting you to a place of serenity. Each hurdle makes your heart jump with excitement. The jumps seem impossible at times. As you zigzag through the cones, you can feel Honeydust's muscles tense and relax under your hands, transitioning from one step to the next with the gracefulness of a dance—

A sudden jolt disrupts the rhythm, and you find yourself tumbling to the ground. You let out a deep groan as your back hits the earth and with the corner of your eye, you see Joel taking hold of Honeydust’s reins, calming the poor palomino. Jack’s face comes into vision a second later. 

"You okay, darlin'?" When you nod and begin to get up, his worry turns to frustration as he glances at Joel. "This was supposed to be about teaching, not pushing her to the damn limit."

"I didn't mean for her to fall, Jack. So don’t act like that was my intention."

“No, your intention was to make me look like I don’t know what I’m doin’.” 

Jack, eyes still glued on Joel, helps you up. Your head is still spinning a little from the adrenaline rush but other than that you feel fine. Your eyes flitting between both men, your stomach twists and turns at how they’re both glaring at each other. This time is different from the arguments. This time they both genuinely look like they’re about to explode. Joel has his jaw tight while Jack has both hands in tight fists. “Guys. . .” 

"Why you gotta make everythin’ personal?" Joel snaps, ignoring you all together. “It was just meant to be a harmless bet.” 

Jack's eyes narrow, he tears his hand away from yours and your heart drops, "You're the one who makes it damn personal by goadin’ me all the damn time."

“That’s. . .” Joel’s eyes grow soft, his demeanor changing entirely. You watch the furrow between his brows relax, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “I’m—” 

“Can it,” Jack hisses through gritted teeth and raises a hand. “I don’t want your apology, I just wanna go. Unless you think I’m gonna be bad at that too.” 

You reach out, head still spinning, your fingers graze the back of his jacket and he slips from between your grasp. You part your lips to call out to him. To tell him to come back. But Joel takes a hold of your hand and lowers it with the shake of his head. 

“I know where he’s goin’. Let’s go.” 

“Are you telling me he has a brooding spot?” 

“He does.”

The sun had set. The crickets now singing under the starry night, but Joel can't focus on any of it. He can’t because he might’ve actually screwed everything up for good this time— which would be typical of him.  

After months of contemplating whether he should take the next step or not, he’d finally made Jack snap. That had never been Joel’s intention, obviously. But he wasn’t the best at flirting. Never had been. And when Jack came into his life, all fresh faced and a lashing tongue, he couldn’t help but fall for him a little. 

You’re walking just a little bit behind him, trying to keep up. He can feel you staring at him. Your eyes curious like a newborn gazelle’s. 

“If you stare any harder I’m gonna start blushin’ sweetheart.” 

“I’m. . . I wasn’t. . .” 

“Sure you were,” he sighs. “It wasn’t my intention to be hard on him you know. It just. . . sorta happens. I care a lot about him and I just want him to. . . “ He clamps his mouth shut. What was he supposed to say? How he was hoping that all the teasing would finally push Jack into his arms? How he wanted to do more than touch Jack when he knew no one else could see. 

“You want him to. . .  what exactly?” 

“I don’t know,” he says through gritted teeth. “It’s complicated between us.” 

“You both have a crush on each other and don’t know what to do about it. It’s not that complicated.”

Joel’s mouth opens and closes— then opens again. “And how the hell do you know that?” 

“Because he talks about you a lot,” you answer with a soft smile. “He said he cares about you. And about your opinion.” Joel’s eyes narrow as you rub the back of your head, your eyes dropping to where you would be taking your next step. “I just don't know where I fit in all of this.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You and I almost kissed,” you say finger moving between you two. “Jack and I actually kissed. And well. . . I don’t want to get in the middle of anything. It might be a bit sudden but I like you guys, I care about you, and want you guys to be together if that’s what you want.” 

“It’s not your job to worry about us.” Joel huffs, his guilt gnawing at him. “But I get what you mean. We. . . we didn’t intend to put you in that position. I can assure you this wasn’t some twisted game we were tryin' to play. I can't talk for Jack but I care about you. And I care about him if that makes sense. But I fear that me being emotionally constipated might’ve ruined it with him. He gets mad every time I open my mouth.” 

“That’s because you tease him all the time and honestly he’s not doing any better than you.” Joel’s eyes go wide when you suddenly cradle his cheeks and bring his face towards your own. “And you haven't ruined anything Mr. Miller. You just need to tell him exactly what you’ve been telling me.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so.” 

Before he can reach he feels the soft touch of your lips. You kiss him slowly—tenderly. Joel follows your lead, parting his lips, he allows you to slip your tongue inside. He sucks on your tongue, enjoying the way your body presses against his. 

When you pull back, you’re completely dazed.

“Now what was that for?” he asks.

“To keep everything even” you answer, smiling. “Now let's go get our brooding cowboy.” 

It doesn’t take long for that to happen. They find Jack sitting on the ground, his back pressed snugly against the wooden fence. He’s staring at the stars. The gentle light streaming down his face and down his neck, Joel’s heart skips a beat at the sight and he feels as though he can’t breathe. 

Only when they walk closer does he notice the bottle of whiskey. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig, Joel’s eyes follow the way drops of amber trickle down his sun-kissed skin. 

All Joel wants to do is lick the bitter drop off of him. 

The two stop before him. Neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. Joel attempts to apologize by parting his lips and that is the exact moment where Jack finally meets his gaze. 

“I know,” he says curtly. “Sit.” Jack extends the bottle of whiskey. Joel, without a word, sits down and takes the bottle. Just as he’s taking a swig, he notices you’re about to leave.  Thankfully Jack stops that from coming to fruition. “And where do you think you’re goin’? Sit your ass over here.” 

Joel almost cackles at how shocked you look. With the tiniest yelp escaping your lips you sit down right next to Jack. Taking a mouthful of whiskey, Joel extends you the bottle. You take it and chug it down immediately—Jack snorts and finally Joel feels comfortable enough to laugh alongside him. 

“Calm down darlin’, it ain’t runnin’ away.” 

“Sorry,” you hiccup, shoving the bottle into Jack’s chest. “I’m nervous.” 

“Well, don’t be,” Jack sighs and his head falls back against the fence. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I—” 

“We know,” Joel says with a fond smile. He throws his arm over Jack’s shoulder and cups the back of his head, his hat tumbling to the ground—it was now or never. 

For the first time, Joel brings their faces together without the tease of what he might or might not do. He kisses Jack tenderly, softly. Just like how he wanted to treat him during all those nights they were alone together. Jack digs his fingers into Joel’s shirt, nails nearly biting into the skin. Much to Joel’s surprise, the other man tastes sweet. Their tongues move together, still unsure but eager to explore. 

When Joel opens his eyes ever so slightly, he sees you staring in awe. 

He nearly breaks away laughing. But also, he can’t really blame you for your expression. 

It really does feel magical. 

You hold your breath. Every nerve ending you have is buzzing with want and arousal. The space between your legs pulsing as you watch Joel tilting his head, slipping his tongue through Jack’s eager lips. Deep down you feel like you’re intruding. That this is a tender moment that should just be between the two men but you can’t help but stay there, like a deer in headlights, watching.  

You shudder at the sound of Jack moaning, his hands grip Joel’s shoulder and host himself up the older man’s lap. He grinds down, swallowing Joel’s gasps, he parts away, a trail of saliva connecting the two. You’re still holding your breath. The tips of your fingers numb, your brain a whirlwind as it registers the sight before you. 

“Stupid old man,” Jack rasps, tilting his head to the side. “Gettin’ all sappy.” Then his heavy gaze finds your struck ones. He reaches out and in a dream-like state you take his hand, his fingers hastily close around your wrist and tugs you towards him. Your gasp is caught in your throat when he kisses you. The taste of Joel and whiskey still heavy on his tongue. 

A hand that doesn’t belong to Jack trails up the curve of your ass and squeezes. A choked-out moan drops from your lips only for Jack to shove his tongue between them. He sucks on your tongue and nips at your bottom lip all the while rolling his hips over Joel’s lap. 

“God, look at you two,” Joel groans, giving your ass another firm squeeze before moving his attention to Jack’s spread thighs. “I want to watch you eat that pretty pussy up, Jack. Bet you want that too. . .” 

Joel palms Jack’s cock through the denim, stroking him with a smug smile. Jack parts away from your lips with a whimper. His chest heaves. “Yeah,” he gasps, staring into your eyes, and his hips jerk, chasing the heat of the other’s palm. “Want you to make a mess of me, sugar.”

“Please,” you answer albeit not really needed. Your body falls back to sit on your heels, Joel crashes his lips against the younger cowboy’s, drinking the noises in like a starved man. He rips his flannel open while straightening himself, the momentum of the movement forcing Jack to grip Joel’s shoulders. He slides off of Joel’s lap, the kiss breaking when he directs his full lust-addled attention to you. 

His gaze is enough for you to start struggling with the buttons of your jeans. You kick them off in a rush and before you can take off your shirt Jack is already laying you down upon the soil, the stars above blinking down at you with mischief. Joel sitting close, pulls your head so you’re nestled comfortably above his lap. His hands cradle your face, thumbs stroking your skin gently. It’s a complete contrast compared to how Jack is. He slides your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb resting right above your clit, he stares at your from between your spread-out thighs. 

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he mutters right before delving in. He drags his tongue slowly up your folds while tenderly stroking your clit. Your back arches off of the earth, your eyes fluttering closed as he goes back down, only to kiss you tenderly. He takes his time with you. His jaw moving and tongue teasing your fluttering entrance. Your breath catches in your throat, your chest rattling, Joel shushes you while praising Jack at the same time. 

When your eyes finally open, you find Joel looking down at you. His thumb traces the underline of your bottom lip and moves down until he reaches the hem of your flannel. Flattening his thumb over your stomach, he pushes the fabric up until he exposes you to the sky completely. He cups both your breasts and smooths his fingers over your tingling nipples. 

“So hard already. . . you must really like what he’s doin’ down there huh?” 

Tears stinging the corner of your eyes, you nod. Your silent reply is answered with a sharp bite to the inside of your thigh. Your body jolts, a gasp of pain rattling your throat. Joel smiles. “I think he wants to hear you, sweetheart.”

“I love it,” you moan and as a reward, he pinches your nipples. 

“Good girl.” 

Jack presses his tongue deeper, your body clenching at both the words and the movement. He groans into your cunt, the bridge of his nose brushing your aching clit deliciously as he swirls his tongue. Your stomach coils tight and you push more of yourself into Joel’s palms, your mouth drops wide. You want more. You need more. You want them both to take and take and take—take until you forget your own damn name. 

“Joel. . .” you breathe. He looks down at you curiously. “I want to suck your cock.” 

Jack stops only for a moment before his eyes flutter closed and loses himself in you. Vaguely you can see the way he grinds down, a groan reverberating between your legs. Joel sucks in a breath and exhales from his nose. “You sure?” 

Your answer is ready on your tongue, and as soon as you give it to him, he expertly unbuttons himself. The tip of his cock pushes against your lips and your breath hitches. Precome smears over the soft flesh, your tongue darting out for a taste, you end up tasting from the source instead. Joel’s hips stutter. 

“Holy fuckin’ hell,” his hips jerk a second time, this time thrusting himself deeper into your mouth. You feel him leaning over, a second later you understand he’s reaching for the other man who is working you toward your orgasm. “Jack com’ere—Let me taste her.” 

Jack doesn’t make Joel repeat himself and unwillingly pulls himself away from between your legs. Your tongue swirls around Joel’s cock as Jack kisses him deeply. He licks himself deep into the older man’s mouth, stealing a moan deep within Joel’s chest. While Jack steals the breath from Joel’s lungs, he pushes two fingers into you with ease. Your eyes rolling, you take more of Joel into your mouth, prompting the other to instinctively thrust deep enough to make you choke around him. 

He parts from Jack with a gasp, “Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart, choke on it.” he says through gritted teeth. Both men look down at you with dark eyes, the shadows caused by the moonlight caress their backs, deepening every crease of their faces. You shudder. 

You’re surprised to see Jack dipping down, lower from where you’re sucking Joel’s cock, he sucks the tender skin of the base, and the sound that Joel makes almost feels inhumane. 

But Jack doesn’t linger. He pulls away from both of you, his torso tall between your legs, he strokes himself at the sight of your mouth full of the man he admires. 

“You like having your mouth full, darlin’? Such a dirty girl allowing two men to have you like this out in the open.” 

You whimper and nod, eyes flooding with tears as Joel shoves himself deeper. Spit and precome trickle down from where his cock stretches your lips. 

“Fuckin’ filthy,” Jack says giving himself a firm squeeze before swiping his palm over the head of his cock. With his other hand, he follows the contour of your leg, reaches all the way to your hip. “You’re ‘bout to feel much fuller.” 

He shoves himself inside you with a single thrust; your channel tightens around him, a moan escaping your throat. Your mouth is pulled away from Joel briefly, gasping for air, before he pulls you back. He adjusts his hips and slides back into your mouth, kneading the back of your neck.

“You feel that? How hot and wet you are? Both of us stretching you?” Jack's voice is gruff as he thrusts into you; your eyes close as pleasure radiates through your body, your skin left tingling. You can hear Joel moan and pant in the background, his cock throbs above your tongue and you hollow out your cheeks.

Your eyes flutter as Jack's cock glides in and out of you; his plunges getting deeper with every thrust. You feel overwhelmed by both of them. You’re left breathless and spinning. You feel only them and nothing else. 

You grip onto Joel to keep yourself teetered to the moment as Jack's movements become more desperate, Joel matching him thrust for thrust. With each gasp, Joel's cock slides further down your throat. 

The tightness inside your body grows; waves of pleasure cascade through you. The pressure builds and builds and builds—You’re so close you can taste it. Jack presses a palm over your mound, adding pressure as he draws quick and tight circles around your clit. Your throat convulses around Joel’s cock and he pulls out, his length resting comfortably above your lips. You breathe heavily against him, his cock slick and warm on your skin. 

“Atta girl,” he coos. “Just a bit more. . . Show us how pretty you look when you come.” 

You feel the pressure between your legs mounting with each hard thrust from Jack, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. Joel encourages Jack to go faster, and with each plunge you feel the tension in your core build higher and higher. 

And finally the coil snaps. 

Your whole body trembles and shakes. Your orgasm still rolling over your body like a violent wave. Jack pumps his hips into yours as he digs his hands into your hips. He keeps thrusting relentlessly, pushing himself as far in as he can before he pulls out. His jaw goes slack, cock gliding over your mound, he spills over your skin. You shudder at the trickle of his seed. 

Joel’s cock slides across your lips, teasing you. Your tongue darts out and quickly wraps around him, you tilt your head to take in all of his length. You push your mouth onto him, bobbing your head up and down until he groans. His hips buck erratically and at the same time you feel the touch of Jack’s mouth against the side of your neck. 

You swallow everything that he offers you, savoring every moment of the taste of him. You stay close to him until his breathing returns to normal, his thighs shaking underneath you as he pulls out. 

“Holy shit,” Jack chokes out as he collapses on top of you, head right above your chest. Joel wipes the sole tear that had escaped you eye and smiles. You bring his palm to your lips and kiss the rough skin. 

“It’s going to be hard walking away from all of this,” you whisper, shuddering when Jack’s mouth moves against the side of your breasts. 

“Who says you have to walk away?” 

You don’t have it in you to go into the details of your life and how you have to go. Or entertain the idea that maybe the things that you thought were important aren’t as essential that you thought after all. It’s pure chaos and right now all you want is to feel their warmth against your bare skin under the stars. 

For now, you are content and feeling grateful for the two amazing men who coincidentally made themselves an inseparable part of your life.  

[jennay]

Noah

An: My first Noah fic I hope you like it. Let me know what you think 💜 I always get nervous writing new people for whatever reason!

Noah Sebastian x reader

No warnings just fluff

Words: 2kish

Noah Master List

How did this happen?

You didn't mean to fall in love with Noah.

He was just a friend, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought.

You met Noah at a friend's birthday party five years ago. He was charming and handsome, but you didn't feel any sparks. He had a warm smile and a friendly handshake, but nothing that made your heart skip a beat. Like you, he was into music and photography, but so were many others. You exchanged numbers and stayed in touch as friends, but nothing more.

That changed when he asked you to look after his apartment and pets while he was on tour. You agreed to help him, thinking living in his place in a different city and state would be fun.

You didn't know that it would also bring you closer to him.

His apartment was cozy and colorful, with posters, books, and instruments. It smelled like coffee and vanilla, his favorite scents.

It felt like home, even though it wasn't yours. You loved spending time there, playing with his dog, and you read some of the books that stayed on his shelf. They looked like they needed some love, and you couldn't stand seeing the books covered in dust, alone and uncared for.

Noah would call you almost every night to check on his pup, leading to more extended conversations. He would tell you about his adventures on the road, the places he visited, and the people he met. He would ask about your day, work, and hobbies. He'd make you laugh with his jokes and stories.

"You're so fuckin cool, you know that?" He said one night.

You felt your cheeks flush. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're doing me a huge favor, and I don't know how to thank you enough."

"You don't have to thank me."

You heard him sigh on the other end of the line. "Well, I owe you dinner or drinks, something like that, when I’m back in town."

You felt your heart race. "I could never say no to free drinks and dinner."

You realized that you had more in common than you thought. You shared the same sense of humor, values, and dreams. You also discovered new sides of him that you never knew before. He was passionate and creative but also humble and kind. He was generous and thoughtful but playful and adventurous.

He became everything you wanted in a partner.

But he was your friend.

He often told you how much he appreciated and trusted your friendship. He had also told you how hard it was for him to trust women after all the pain he had gone through. He had been betrayed and hurt by his ex-girlfriends, who had spread lies and rumors about him. They had tried to use him for fame and money, not caring about his feelings.

You were different from them. You were a journalist, but you never wrote anything wrong about him. You never exploited his secrets or his scandals. You never tried to get a scoop or a headline out of him. You respected his privacy and his dignity. You cared about him as a person, not as a celebrity.

You wanted to be the one who could heal his wounds, make him happy, and love him like no one else.

You wanted to be the one who could make him see that not all women were the same.

You wanted to be the one who could make him fall in love again.

You sure as hell didn't know if he saw you as more than a friend.

You were going to see him today at a hidden bar that only a few knew about. It was a place where he could be himself, away from the public's prying eyes. Noah loved his music and fans, but he was a private person. He needed his privacy, and you respected that.

You knew he would probably bring one of his bandmates with him. They were his support system, and though you sometimes wished he would come alone, you understood. That's why you often invited Allie along. She was your best friend and had a crush on Nicholas. Nicholas was smitten with her, too, and he would chase her around like a lovesick puppy, leaving you and Noah some time to yourselves.

You didn't go all out with your appearance, just a touch of makeup and a casual outfit. It wasn't your style, and you knew Allie would tease you if you showed up too fancy.

She'd been nagging you to confess your feelings to Noah; she even blurted it out to him once when she was drunk, but you brushed it off with a nervous laugh and told her to drop it.

You enter the bar, feeling the cool air hit your face. You head straight to the counter, order your favorite beer, and leave your debit card with the bartender.

You scan the room, looking for your friends. They stand out from the crowd. You see a tall man and a petite blonde girl, with Nicholas trailing behind them like a loyal dog. Your eyes land on Noah holding his cue stick and aiming at the table. He is smiling at something he said to Nicholas, but you can't make out his words over the loud music.

You grab your drink and walk towards them. Allie spots you first and runs towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

She slurs some words in your ear. "Finally!" She yells, her breath reeking of alcohol. "These two are no fun. They're too good at pool, and I can't beat them. So now they are playing each other, and I'm just watching." She giggles.

You escape from her hug and follow her to the table, putting down your drink and taking off your sweater. "Well, it's not a fair game when Noah's arms are longer than the fucking table." You joke.

"I heard that!" Noah shouts from across the table, waving his pool stick at you.

You shrug your shoulders, "It's the truth!"

"Who wants to play next?" Nicholas asks as he walks over to you and Allie. "Allie owes me a shot, and I'm done with him." He laughs, pointing at Noah.

"Are you giving up?" Noah asks as he joins the three of you. "I don't blame you. You suck and everything." He teases.

You smile up at him and open your arms to hug him. "I love being ignored." You say sarcastically, making Allie snort.

He hugs you tightly and rocks you back and forth slowly, "Sorry, my precious little angel," He mocks, "I was busy kicking ass."

Nicholas hands you his cue stick and grabs Allie by the arm, dragging her to the bar. "Good luck!" He yells back at you.

"Ok, Noah." You laugh, trying to escape his grip, "You can let go now."

He looks at you with a fake hurt expression, "But I thought we were having a moment."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah, a moment of suffocation."

He grins and releases you, "Fine, fine. Let's play then. Loser buys the next round."

You nod, "Deal. But don't cry when I beat you." He winks, "We'll see about that."

You and Noah start playing pool, taking turns to hit the balls. You're both good at the game but like to distract each other with jokes and taunts. You laugh and tease each other, enjoying the friendly competition.

You notice he's getting closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to show you how to aim better, brushing his hand against your arm when he passes the cue stick, whispering in your ear when he makes a shot. You feel a surge of heat in your body, wondering if he is flirting with you or just being playful.

You decide to play along, hoping he will make a move. You touch his chest when you congratulate him on a good shot, look into his eyes when you talk to him, and bite your lip when you miss a shot.

You see him react to your signals, his eyes darkening, his breath quickening, his smile widening.

You’re both down to the last ball, the black eight. It's his turn, and he has a clear shot. He looks at you and says, "If I make this, I win. And if I win, I get to ask you something."

You raise your eyebrows, curious and nervous. "I have to buy you a drink, and you get to ask me something?" You ask. "That doesn't seem very fair."

He shakes his head, "It's fair, you'll see." He bends over the table and aims at the ball. He hits it with precision and power, sending it into the corner pocket.

He straightens up and pumps his fist in the air. "Got it!" He exclaims. He turns to you and grabs your hand, pulling you close. "I win!"

You smile and nod, "Yes, you do."

He looks into your eyes and says, "And now I get to ask you something."

You swallow hard, feeling his breath on your face. "What do you want to ask me?"

He leans in and whispers in your ear, "Can I kiss you?"

"Are you drunk?" You ask, taken back by his question, "You don't want to kiss me. That's the alcohol talking. Are you drunk?"

He chuckles, "No, I'm not drunk, and I want to kiss you. Am I reading signals wrong? I thought that's what you wanted..." He nervously speaks, his dark brown eyes closely watching you, waiting for a response. Did he overstep your boundaries?

In a whirlwind of nervous energy, you feel your heart race as you stare at him. What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you wanted?

You softly nod your head, "Ok," You whisper.

You feel everything else fade away, and the only thing that matters at that moment is him. As your lips get closer, the air gets thicker with anticipation, your hearts beating as one. The world pauses, waiting for this moment. With a gentle move, he lowers his head, and a wave of bliss washes over you when you feel his lips press to yours. You feel warmth as his hands caress your face, and he deepens the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, not letting him go.

You hope this is real, not some cruel dream playing with your mind.

When you finally pull away, your eyes meet again, breathless and smiling like two people who have just found a hidden treasure. You see the love and happiness in his eyes, reflecting your own.

“About damn time!” Nicholas shouts from behind you, breaking the spell. You laugh, feeling a bit shy but also proud of what you have done.

You lean in and give Noah another kiss, softer and sweeter than the first one, just to make sure it's real.

You didn't mean to fall in love with Noah. But you did, and it changed everything.

[moons-of-dewclan]

I was curious how to get your clan really set off? I recently (LIKE EARLIER TODAY JFJSJFJ) started my own clangen blog but idk if it's worthy of Tumblr😭

How can I improve my art and improve my process? You're one of my BIGGEST inspirations ngl you're literally him (or her or they I'm so sorry I never caught your pronouns) but I was just curious on how to be better? If you wanna look, don't. It's like, rlly bad so.... save your eyes. Have a lovely nighttt <33

HELLOOOOO I'M NOT 100% SURE WHAT YOU MEAN BY SET OFF I'M SORRY :{ if you mean to get people reading it, i think it's vastly just luck also appealing to an audience by accident i posted my art online for 10 years (i started posting in 2010 as a wee ka- told you i'm an adult haahahueu) before anyone showed consistent interest and i valued those two or so commenters who occasionally had something to say about my stuff, so much LAKSNLKD. that entire decade i got between 2 and 30 favourites for every piece i posted- usually between 2 and 10- until around 2021 when a making a comic aANNND joining a wolf ARPG group exposed me to many kindred art-enjoyers that wanted to keep up with my goofy stories then for some reason, i posted Dewclan's first page on tumblr and it got way more engagement than any other piece of art i've ever posted SO LAKSDNLKDAS WE CANNOT PREDICT THESE THINGS.. at least i can't if you're looking for engagement, pLS AIM FOR ENGAGEMENT THAT FEELS MEANINGFUL over anything else IN MY OPINION, and it's just my opinion- part of being 'better' is, first and foremost, being able to enjoy your art alone. and then being excited with what you choose to share! even if you don't care about your quality of art, care about the story. if you don't care about the story, care about the process and just having fun. but you have to have fun in doing it, and do it for your own eyes primarily. like if you were alone in a room and creating only for yourself! because, until you happen to find others who like what you're liking, you are then when someone is interested and you get to share that excitement, even that ooone comment on something you care about is OOGHHH SUCH A NICE FEELIN. enter communities, comment on other artists' work, try to make friends! but make sure to remember, if you create with the hopes others will like it, without liking it yourself, you're going to be really broken down if someone doesn't like it FOR you :{ loving your own art is tough work but it's integral to your longterm relationship with drawing ON IMPROVING.. for me, nothing is more integral to improving than finding a way to practice that suits you (looking at live figures doesn't help me at all. i don't know why. it's insane), and having fun doing it. i can't grasp anatomy unless i break it down with shapes. SHAPES ARE EVERYTHING. study the shapes of what you want to draw. break em down by tracing simple shapes over your subject. see if the leg is the same length as the head from muzzle to neck and lock that info in. STUFF LIKE THAT on the technical side of things, it can be super helpful to dedicate half an hour or so to drawing a day- eventually it becomes a habit and you just default to 'oh i think i wanna draw' when you've got nothing else to do. more drawing, more improvement!

HONESTLY THO another important thing is not putting yourself down. i know it's a hard habit to break (i struggle with it outside of art myself!), but it doesn't do you any favours. the more you rag on yourself, the more it'll manifest as something that actually damages your art, AND your relationship with it. let it be fun- don't sabotage yourself! you can be critical of your work and still kind! little tip here, improving can take a while, but experimenting with styles can make an INSTANT shift in how you perceive your stuff. ALSOOO EXPERIMENT WITH DIFFERENT BRUSHES FOR SKETCHING AND LINING. I PROOMISE. PLS DO IT. IT'S LIKE A MAGIC TRICK. i cannNNNOT sketch with a hard brush. everything looks horrible. marker brush tho?? so smooth. full of character. lovely. binary brush sketches? suddenly i'm Anime. pencil brush?? i digidevolve back into baby ka who loved to crosshatch and do semi realism. airbrush??? i explode into atoms actually

i find for a lot of people, they don't need to improve or be 'better' at art, they need to learn to enjoy what they're capable of doing now, and improvement is a byproduct. from what i've seen through the years, unless you work to curb it the negative view of your art will stick with you no matter what 'skill level' you get to bc the calls' comin from inside the house, yknow what i mean 3: it can be a long process to learn to accept your art, and sometimes you just plain grow out of it over time! but in the meantime it can't hurt to make efforts to fight your d e m o n s

I'M SORRY I WROTE SO MUCH IK YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS ALL IT ISN'T JUST TO YOU, ODESSY-CLAN BLOG RUNNER, IT'S AIMED AT ANYONE WITH ARTSY SELF DOUBTS. i hope i phrased everything kindly bc i meant it all kindly 3: i hate to see an artist doubt their work, but THERE IS NO SHAME IN IT. i want to encourage loving it regardless of any flaws tho, even though it takes time!

[litnerdwrites]

So, about Morrigan...

We all know that Morrigan's life was spent with others lording power over her, her body and her autonomy. When she tried to regain power and control over her own fate and body by sleeping with Cassian, she wound up tortured and brutalised at the boarder of the Autumn court, while the first person to find her, Eris, left her there. I don't like Morrigan either, but nobody should have to go through something like that, least of all at the hands of their own parents.

However, we see later in ACOFAS, that Mor's father still holds a lot of power over her.

The fact her father still holds this kind of power over her is a problem to her. So what does she do? Instead of working harder to overcome her trauma, talking about it, trying to face her fears, or doing anything else productive, she decides to become just as bad.

Mor lords power over Nesta, knowing Feyre and Cassian would chose their and their court over Nesta in a heart beat. Instead of empowering Feyre by encouraging her to hash things out with Nesta and take the first step to rebuilding that relationship, or telling Cassian not to disrespect Nesta's boundaries (the way males constantly disrespected her own boundaries), Mor decides to go on a power trip, by helping to isolate Nesta.

She constantly insults Nesta at every opportunity, getting off on the power she holds over her, despite the trauma and pain Nesta's gone through. During her first dinner with them, Nesta refuses their (unreasonable) request (felt more like a demand imo) to share her story at the HL meeting, and leaves the room before strangers who, best case scenario, don't give a shit about her, or worst case scenario, despise her, can peer pressure her into it.

It's been insinuated more than once that the IC doesn't know the whole truth about what transpired between Morrigan and Eris. Cassian, in silver flames, called Eris a 'good male' but also a 'coward' trapped by terrible circumstances (which is another topic I'd like to discuss later on), despite knowing what happened to Mor. It's becoming clear that one of them, or both of them, are lying about what happened. Which, personally, I think is fair, to some extent. Mor is under no obligation to share the truth in it's entirety with anybody if she doesn't want to.

(Although letting them believe a selective truth that paints Eris as a villain and letting her family insult him if that's not the case is so fucked up of her to do, and yet so on brand).

However, one would think that, because of this, Morrigan, of all characters, would understand not wanting to talk about your traumas, much less in front of an audience. Especially given the prejudices between humans & fae, Beron's general disposition, and the NC being disliked by most of the other courts, it seems obvious Nesta wouldn't want to talk to them at all, much less share something so deeply traumatising.

Instead, she passes Feyre a bottle of wine, as if she's the one being the most inconvenienced by Nesta's trauma and her response to it. She does the same in ACOSF, deciding that Nesta should be trapped in the CON while taking immense pleasure in the torture Nesta's going through. She even gloats about it to Nesta when coming to see Nesta being humiliated in Illyria.

Mor has suffered immensely, but as I mentioned in my previous post, trauma is an explanation for cruel behaviour, not an excuse. Much like Nesta, while Mor's actions may, to some extent, be explained by trauma, it doesn't excuse them. It should open a door to empathy and understanding.

Perhap's Nesta's human values, being somewhat similar to the values of the CON, may contribute to Mor associating her with her father. Or perhaps she wanted to feel powerful by protecting Feyre from horrible family the way she wished someone had protected her. Perhaps, in taking away Feyre's agency and power over her own forgiveness and relationship with her sisters, Mor was able to feel powerful. It's possible she see's Keir in her, which may be why Mor feels Nesta would 'thrive' in the CON.

Instead of stepping into her own power by facing her abusers, she faces other victims, takes power away from her own friends, and lords it over other victims. She takes power and agency from her friends, and for all she tells Feyre to stay out of the situation between Elain and Lucien, she continually inserts herself into the situation between Nesta and Feyre.

Mor used to hold power over Cassian and Azriel by using Cassian as a buffer between Az and her, knowing they both would do whatever she asked, pretty much. Now, she now lords power over Nesta and actively helps to isolate her, while also flaunting her relationships with Feyre and Cassian in order to hurt Nesta, knowing that Cassian and Feyre would let it happen without a care in the world. (I mean, what else do you call that scene at solstice where Mor and Cassian happily exchanged lingerie in front of her, while Feyre herself didn't even get Nesta a gift, after forcing her to come to solstice against her will).

TLDR: Mor's on a power trip because she unfairly associates Nesta with her father for no reason and uses it as an excuse to be almost as bad as Kier to Nesta. The cycle of abuse at it's finest people.

(Also, does anyone else come to post, intending for it to be short and sweet, only to end up going on a long ass tangent and writing a whole essay? Cause I do that. IDK how to stop though😭)

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | seven.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 3.8k

—chapter warnings: cussing/mature language, wedding time for yuna!! aka weekend getaway for the group!, overthinking/some insecurities, alcohol consumption (not by oc), playful moments between chan, jisung and seungmin, oc has a cute, mini heart-to-heart with seungmin, flashback at the end - crying, another core memory for minho

♡ a/n: more happens btwn oc and minho next chapter (and beyond), i promise! lol and i know everyone is dying for someone to tell the truth!! i also promise that will happen.. soon... in time. 😬 hehe ty for sticking along on this ride 🥺

"Everything okay?" Seungmin looks at you as you stand and study the hotel in front of you. You look at him as he gently smiles, Chan and Jisung taking care of all the belongings in the background.

"Mhm." You respond. Your eyes shift down to the arm he props out, signaling for you to hold onto it before following Chan and Jisung inside. You softly chuckle and grab onto his arm, letting him lead you into the lobby.

As Jisung mentioned, both the wedding and reception were going to take place in the garden area of the oceanside hotel. Jisung, of course, needed to be here a day before the wedding for the rehearsal. Upon entering the lobby, you see him and Chan greeting his parents, with Yuna and Yeong-Su following behind. Their eyes all shift to you and Seungmin as you get closer, Jisung's mom the first to approach you and gently take you into her arms.

"My babygirl." She says. You embrace her and hug her tightly, being that Jisung's parents were just like your own. They've popped in to check on you at the hospital and a few times post-release. You can tell they're also trying to keep it safe around you, almost like you're fragile— need to be handled with care. "I'm so happy you're here." She pulls away, cupping your cheek. "Are you doing okay?" You nod.

"I'm okay." You verbally respond just as Jisung's father is pulling you in for a hug.

"Your uncle couldn't make it?" You shake your head.

"No, he's working on a big project right now. He sends his regards, though." You make a mental note to call your Uncle Adrian later just to let him know you've made it safely. Being that he owned his own construction company, he was always on the go and working on projects around town. He was reliable, someone known for his kindness and trustworthiness. People always wanted him to be handling their projects or needs. You don't blame them— he was your mom's brother and he reminded you of her in so, so many ways. You were grateful for him and for the many ways he has provided and kept you safe, protected. You're especially grateful to have him because if you weren't going to have mom here, you at least had him— a piece of her. They shared the same attitude, values, the same gracefulness.

Both angelic and gentle.

"Well, you let us know if you need anything. Especially if he starts working up your nerves." Jisung's dad nods towards him.

"I will." You chuckle.

"Y/N." Yuna pokes out her bottom lip as she comes to embrace you. "God, it's so nice to see you and hug you. I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too."

"Thank you for coming. Seriously. I know it's a lot, but it means so much to me that you're here." She looks at you.

"I'm glad I'm here." You smile at Yeong-Su and greet him. "How can I help right now?"

"No, no. Don't you dare lift a finger. We have people taking care of everything. I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself while you're here, okay?" Yuna hangs onto your arm. "I can't believe it's here already."

"Time flies by."

"Sure does." Yuna leans her head against your shoulder. "I hope it all goes to plan."

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine, and it'll all be amazing. You'll look so, so beautiful walking down that aisle and I can't wait to witness that moment." Yuna smiles at you. Although you can't recall the moments you've spent with Jisung's family or Yuna in general, her aura is comforting. She's special to you, and you to her— that seeing her only confirms that fact that she has been someone dear and close to you. It's easy to talk to her like this, as if your body was working with its muscle memory. Though, you wish you could look back at those moments and cherish them instead.

"Thank you." There's a slight hint of worry in her eyes when she looks at you, when they all look at you, and it's a clear sign that they too, are walking on eggshells around you. Fragile, sensitive, afraid you'd crack and break into pieces any moment.

These times were trying, and you hated it when people looked at you that way. You have to constantly reassure yourself that people cared. Maybe even a bit too much, but they cared.

They believe in you, Y/N.

You aren't lost, Y/N.

That's not what this is.

"If you need me or anything at all, don't you ever hesitate to let me know. Okay?"

"Okay. Don't worry Yuna. This weekend is all about you and Yeong-Su, alright? It'll be great." She nods happily.

"Sorry to bother. Need to borrow my bestfriend so I can show her to the room?" Jisung steps in and Yuna rolls her eyes.

"You're always so selfish with her, you know that?" He scoffs.

"Woah, I'm literally just taking her to the room!"

"Share sometimes." She continues to playfully argue with him before returning her attention to you. "Get some rest. Enjoy yourself. I'll see you tonight for dinner." She squeezes your hand before reuniting with Yeong-Su and Jisung's parents.

"Ready? We're on the fourth floor." He has his duffle bag strap over one shoulder, while carrying your weekender bag by the hand. He gives you a small smile, eyes darting back to Chan and Seungmin walking ahead towards the elevator. "We're sharing a room with two beds, and Chan and Seungmin are in the connecting room. Is that okay?"

"Mhm, that's fine." You follow the three boys into the elevator. "Where's Minho going to be?" Chan and Seungmin look at you before looking at Jisung.

"Oh, he's not coming tonight. He's just gonna show up for the wedding tomorrow and stay after."

"I see."

"We should check out the bar and stuff before the dinner." Chan chimes in as he continues to scroll through his phone. "Wanna come, Y/N? No pressure."

"Hm, sure. It'll be nice to explore." Chan smiles at you. Once you hit the fourth floor, the four of you walk over to the rooms silently, Jisung dropping your bags to the floor before opening the door that joins the two rooms together. You immediately walk towards the window to look out at the view, arms crossed at your chest as you take in the way the sun bounces off of the water's surface.

"Pretty isn't it? I suggested for Yuna and Yeong-Su to get married here." You chuckle at Jisung.

"Nice choice."

"Did you get to call your uncle yet?"

"No, not yet. I'll call him in a bit." He nods.

"Want this bed?" Jisung points to the bed closest to the window and you smile at him.

"You'd give up the bed with a view?"

"Why not? All that matters to me is that you're comfortable." He shrugs. "I know all of this happened kinda last minute for you."

"It's not like that." You chuckle. "I'm glad I came along. It already feels nice to be away for a weekend."

"Good." He looks at Chan and Seungmin. "I can use their bathroom so that you have this one to yourself."

"It's fine, pachi. It's not like we haven't done this before with our families." You look at him with a certain look in your eyes, and he feels like he can relax. Jisung does worry about you, probably way more than he should, but at the end of the day, he just wants to make sure you're taken care of. It's his duty as your bestfriend, and he feels especially protective after everything you've been through. You've done so much for Jisung while growing up that he can't help but feel like he didn't do enough to keep you safe, to keep you from getting hurt, to protect you. He knows it's not his fault, but he can't help but blame himself. 

He feels like he could have done more.

And with you being here—being awake, being you— he feels like he's gotten a second chance to do better. He's gotten a second chance to make up for the things he didn't do before. He'll never take that for granted ever again.

"Mmkay." He chuckles. "Well, I'm gonna go wash up before we head down." You nod before unzipping your weekender bag and gently pulling out your wedding gift. Thankfully, after some days of rest and taking it easy, you were able to finish off the vase you started for Yuna. On top of that, you were able to grab other useful items to gift the couple as well. You set the things aside before hanging up your dress and setting your heels aside for tomorrow. While Jisung is still in the bathroom, you grab your phone out of your pocket and press your uncle's number under your Favorites list. It rings for 3 times before he picks up on the other line, the construction sounds blaring in the background.

"Hey Y/N, sorry it's so loud." You can tell he's trying to walk towards a quieter place with the way the background slowly fades out. "Did you and the boys make it okay?"

"Mhm, it was a smooth ride."

"Good, that's good to hear. How is the hotel? I heard it's really nice."

"It is super nice. I saw Yuna, Yeong-Su and Jisungie's parents as soon as we got here. I told them you send your regards."

"Thank you. Yeah, I wish I could come, but this project is taking up so much of my time. We're still behind." He chuckles a bit. "You have fun and enjoy yourself, okay?"

"I will. I just wanted to let you know that we were here."

"Okay, call me later when you're free. Hopefully I'll be home and resting by then." You laugh.

"You should. Don't work too hard."

"I'll try not to. Tell Jisung and the boys I said hi."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too." And with that, the call ends. You set your phone aside and dig through your bag again, checking to see which clothes you could change into that are more fitting for the warm weather. You pull out a simple black mini skirt and a crop top, hugging it against your chest as you wait for Jisung to finish up in the bathroom. You peek into Seungmin and Chan's room to see them lazily lying on their beds, with Seungmin the first to look up from his phone when he sees you looking in.

"Need something, Y/N?" He sits up and you shake your head.

"Do you mind if I change in your bathroom? Jisungie's taking forever."

"Go for it."

"Dude, tell him to hurry up." Chan looks at Seungmin. "I wanna grab a drink."

"Han Jisung, hurry up!" Seungmin yells from the bed as he crashes back onto it. You slip into their bathroom and shut the door behind you, hearing Chan and Seugmin constantly yelling at Jisung to hurry. You giggle to yourself as you change into your clothes, already feeling better being out of those leggings and the thick hoodie you had on.

"Where's Y/N?" You hear Jisung ask.

"She's changing in our bathroom cause you took too long."

"Oh." You hear footsteps approaching the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, cielo. You should've knocked."

"It's alright." You swing the door open, which causes Jisung to step back and quickly eye you from head to toe. "I'm ready now, we can head down."

"You look nice." You smile at Jisung.

"Thanks." You walk past him to get back to your room and drop your clothes.

"You always look nice, Y/N." Seungmin adds.

"Even in your pajamas, Y/N." Chan playfully chimes in causing Jisung to roll his eyes.

"Back off." You giggle to yourself when you hear Chan and Seungmin laughing at Jisung’s remark. They stand up to their feet when you walk back into their room, and the four of you start heading back down to the hotel lobby to explore around. On the way down, Chan and Seungmin are cracking jokes between each other that make you laugh, while Jisung picks up a call that comes through on his phone.

"Minho, yo." He picks up the call. "Yo?" He repeats. "What do you want?" You obviously can't hear Minho on the other line, but Jisung furrows his brows while listening to him. "What do you mean you don't know what to buy as a present? They have a registry. Just buy something from there or give them money so they can use it towards whatever they please." Jisung sighs. "Uh no, absolutely not a good idea to give them sex toys as a present." You chuckle, making Jisung look down at you before looking back ahead. "Dude, you're fucking gross. Do what you want. I'm telling Yuna and Yeong-Su that I had nothing to do with it." He lets out another breath. "Yeah, okay. I'm hanging up now." He lets out a laugh. "You're full of shit. Bye."

"Productive conversation, I see." Jisung shrugs.

"Dude is out of his mind. He's terrible when it comes to giving gifts."

"I'm sure he'll figure it out." It falls quiet as you continue walking towards the bar near the lobby. But for you, you're mainly wondering why you haven't talked to Minho as much as you expected to. He was your bestfriend, right?

Why didn't he say hi?

Does he ask about you as much as you do with him?

Why does it feel like Jisung is a wall between you two?

"Yo, look at this." Chan picks up the flyer at the front of the bar. "Tequila shots are only a dollar from now until 8PM."

"You're out of your mind." Seungmin laughs. "That shit is probably poison, and I'm not taking care of your asses."

"I can handle myself!" He nudges Jisung. "Let's go."

"I'm only gonna take like.. 3, my guy. I still have to rehearse, you know?"

"What better way to rehearse than tipsy?"

"Fuck you." Jisung shakes his head as he gives in to Chan. "You're really not gonna join in?"

"No, hell no. I'll stay here with Y/N and keep her safe from you two weirdos." Seungmin stands closer to you and you smile at the two. "We'll just help ourselves to some family-friendly drinks and people-watch outside." He looks down at you and you nod.

"Sounds fun to me." The boys know you aren't fond of drinking, especially after the accident. It's not like they've ever pressured you, but it's nice to have Seungmin swoop you away from Chan and Jisung's chaos just so you two could chill. Which, he does by asking the bartender for virgin pina coladas, taking the glasses over to two seats near the edge of the dining area that overlook the beach. You sit onto the stool while Seungmin doesn't waste any time with his drink. After quenching his thirst, he looks at you and gives you a toothless smile.

"Is it okay?" You nod while sipping your drink.

"It's really good!" You look at the drink in surprise. "Thanks. How much do I owe you?"

"What?" He chuckles. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. It's on me."

"Thank you, Seungmin."

"Of course." Silence. The two of you appreciate the view ahead before Seungmin breaks the silence again. "I didn't expect it to be so hot this weekend."

"Didn't pack the right clothes?" He does a head tilt while letting out a soft laugh.

"Not really, but I'll make it work. Like I always do." You chuckle before there's another pause. Seungmin feels safe. He always radiates a warm aura; someone who won't ever judge you, or make you feel stupid. Especially for what you're about to ask—

"Seungmin?" You slightly turn in your seat to look at him. "Can I ask you something?" He returns the favor by turning in his seat to face you.

"Anything."

"Is Minho really that busy?" His eyes widen at the random question, but he answers anyway.

"Um, yeah. He kinda is." He laughs a bit. "He's my roommate but I see him come and go pretty often, and I've gotten used to it. I'm sure the café is hard to manage. Why?"

"I don't know. I just.. feel the need to ask." You tilt your head and look at him. "Can I tell you something else?"

"Of course." His voice softens.

"I'm having a hard time figuring out why I feel a certain way when it comes to Minho. We were close at one point, right? So, why doesn't it feel like it? Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" You look out at the view, then back at him. "Why do I feel like he's purposefully avoiding me?" He lets out a breath. You can tell he's hesitating but he covers it up well. 

He recovers well.

"I think Minho is still trying to process everything." Is all he says. "It's not anything against you, this entire thing is just hard for him. Give it some time. He'll come around." This is all he gives you. 

"Sorry, I must sound stupid. I don't really know how to explain it."

"You're not stupid, Y/N. I know you are just trying to understand. And, I understand you. Don't worry." You also feel like Seungmin wants to say something else, but he doesn't. And that's because Jisung chose this very moment to rush over towards you two, arguing with Chan about their choices.

"I hate his ass." Jisung comes rushing over, pointing at a laughing Chan behind him. "He made us do five tequila shots."

"You're both glowing." Seungmin laughs. "Sure you can do it for the rehearsal?" The two of you watch as Jisung playfully pushes Chan and continues to put the blame on him and whine.

While you and Seungmin finish up your drinks, Yuna, Yeong-Su, their parents and Jisung's parents eventually come down and meet your group right before the rehearsal is scheduled to start. You laugh at Jisung's parents scolding him for getting tipsy before rehearsals— Jisung's mom clinging onto you as you all walk towards the garden area where things are set up for tomorrow's festivities.

As you sit alongside of Chan and Seungmin while watching the wedding rehearsal, you can't help but think of your quick conversation with Seungmin. With the gentle way he spoke with you earlier, you can't help but feel like you've been overthinking the entire thing and that's what you wanted to avoid while being here. It was hard for everyone to process what had happened, knowing that everyone was on the brink of letting you go, of giving you peace.

Then, to come back and change everything— to change their feelings, their mind, their decisions.

Maybe it was just you, after all.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | A COUPLE OF DAYS AFTER YOU WOKE UP

Minho doesn't even know where he's going.

He finds himself running, and running, and running— in hopes he can finally escape the repeating sounds of your cries and screams.

"Fuck." He groans as he leans over onto his knees, squinting his eyes at the dull headache that is suddenly coming onto him early this morning. The sun is barely rising, the air is still cold, sharp. He drags himself over to the rail before sitting on the step— chest beginning to ache at the shortness of breath. His head falls and his breathing is the only thing he hears besides the occasional early morning chirping, cars passing by, geese dipping into the lake ahead of him.

"Knew I'd find you here." He looks up to the familiar voice, surprised at seeing his roommate standing in front of him in a hoodie and sweats.

"What are you doing here?" Seungmin shrugs and sits next to him on the step.

"Think I don't wanna get a run this morning, too?"

"Right." Minho looks straight ahead at the lake again. "Sleep is everything to you."

"Damn right. This is so fucking early."

"So, why are you here?"

"To make sure you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" He's avoiding eye contact, again. Seungmin may not say much, but he notices these things. He always notices the small things.

"You haven't said much to anyone since Y/N woke up. Think it's safe for me to be worried about you." Seungmin says softly, arms lazily hanging over his knees while he joins Minho and looks out to the lake. It's quiet for awhile before Minho finally speaks up and lets out a soft sigh.

"Nothing to be worried about."

"You don't have to do that. We can talk about it." Seungmin looks at him before shifting back to the lake. "It's hard, I know it is. I say that as her friend, so I can only imagine what you're feeling right now. So let me be your friend, and let me be there for you." And honestly, that's all it takes for Minho to crack. Because he's not okay. This is hard. He doesn't know what to do.

You saw them, and there was nothing.

You saw him, and there was nothing.

Minho's head falls, and Seungmin hears the harsh crying next to him even if Minho is trying his hardest to mask it. He can hear Minho whimpering in between sobs, Seungmin's heart breaking at the sound. He gently pats his back, giving him some time to let it all out.

"I didn't think it'd be this fucking hard." He mumbles and Seungmin barely catches on. "She doesn't know any of us, she doesn't know me."

"She's scared. Give her some time, okay? We'll get her back to where she needs to be."

"No, no." Minho shakes his head as he continues to cry. "No. She's different, she doesn't know me." He repeats. "I'm so stupid. Why did I let her go that night?"

"You're not stupid."

"I am. I am." He repeats. "None of this would've happened." His crying finally slows down but he still can't bring himself to look at Seungmin yet. He lets himself calm down, crying finally subsiding as he lets out a breath and wipes away at the straggling tears. "I was getting ready to accept it. I think I did. I was ready for whatever was gonna happen next. I was at peace with it. He pauses. "Then she came back. And I'm supposed to feel relief, right?" He finally turns to Seungmin again, eyes red from all the crying.

"You don't have to feel that way right now. Understandably, it's a lot at once." Is the best Seungmin can do.

"Yeah. Because truthfully, I don't feel relieved." Seungmin sees the tears building up on Minho's bottom lids again, his lip slightly trembling. "I'm not relieved because it feels like I still lost her either way. That's the hardest part about all of this." He starts to softly cry again, and he remains silent. Quite frankly, he doesn't know what else to say to Seungmin. He's overwhelmed with emotion, but at the same time he feels so fucking empty inside. Your cries and screams are still ringing in his head, the fear in your eyes when it quickly landed on him, the boys.

He shouldn't have let you go that night.

He's so stupid.

Nothing could have prepared him for how difficult this was going to be. He feels a selfish, feels kinda like an asshole for this. But, he truthfully cannot say he feels relieved after these past few days—

In the end, he still loses you.

☁︎ END

♡ taglist: @ppiri-bahng​ @jihanlovic​ @meloncremesoda​ @sweetlikecherry​ @hoes4lino​ @skzddicted​ @skzho @edgaralienpoe​ @harui-zen​ @bestleeknowstan​ @havenwithleeknow​ @septicrebel​ @heesdazed​ @borahae-reads​ @yoontaethings​ @pearbunny​ @bintificreads​ @lukeys-giggle​ @ajxreads @everglowdaisies​ @allaboutsan​ @endzii23​ @leeknowsramen @heres-your-ramen2000​ @morningstardada​ @mal-lunar-28​ @downbadreading​ @lilysophie @feelikecinderella​ @urmomma0324​ @ddazed-lhs​ @djeniryuu​ @melanctton​ @i8rsie​ @maru-matt​ @sleepyleeji​ @taerifin​ @nattisbored​ @jisunglyricist​ @m111nho​ @drhsthl​ @nixtape-foryou​ @arminseas @guiltycoco​ @syuuji​ @sulkygyu​ @cadihyo @reianagarcia​ @leeknowyah​

[itspileofgoodthings]

anyway I don’t have the whole Jordan Peterson dating propaganda rebuttal fully locked and loaded but basically it’s just never about statistics. never was, never will be. and I’ll say that while acknowledging that the statistics can be objectively bad, especially for certain specific sub-groups, people with strong and specific convictions, highly intelligent people etc. but it doesn’t matter because the fundamental truth is that it’s always “one in a million the chances of feeling the way we do” etc. etc. and always was?? things are hard right now, on the dating scene, because life is hard right now and it’s hard to make money and find a stable situation that makes you happy. things are extra hard because society is incredibly fractured on the basis of both belief and vibes (lol) so the odds of finding someone just out in the great wide world of indiscriminate datings apps who’s going to believe what you believe and have the same set of cultural values (if that’s the word I want) are incredibly low. It’s not going to happen! And if you’re out looking you’re going to run into those obstacles over and over and over. But it kind of doesn’t matter? Because love is still real, people can still feel it, God brings people together. And I actually don’t think you need to do anything except continue living your life and doing things because they’re good for you, if and when you can, like having as much of a social life as you can and is feasible. The rest, in my humble opinion, is out of your control and you should just let it go! Yeah we’d have an easier time if our culture was more unified, if we fundamentally believed the same things and shared the same values. But even then the stars aligning of it all in terms of liking each other and wanting the same things and being in the same place and communicating in a way where we can actually understand each other is just out of our control and the answer is trust, love, and patience. And also a willingness to accept that you might just be alone, romantically speaking. So start filling your life up with other things and start getting used to the burden of it. Because what is there else to do? Except NOT accepting it and growing increasingly desperate. In any case, and to return to my point, this is my answer to the fundamental lie of the Peterson dating discussions. And it’s just that statistics have nothing to do with ANYTHING when it comes to finding love and happiness. It is never statistical; it’s always beyond that. My parents’ love story, my friends’ love stories, coworkers love stories—it can’t be quantified because they did x. On some level it just happened to them. They were lucky enough to find it all. (Or you know they forced it and are now unhappily married. Happens a LOT. But presuming that we’re talking about ending up happy.)

AND.

ON ANOTHER NOTE (that is still sort of related)

That same study of statistics doesn’t apply because it only takes one. So his whole tired repeated take about how intelligent women have the hardest time finding husbands because men are scared of their intelligence? Might even be true! But it doesn’t MATTER because nobody should want to marry everybody! If that makes sense! It’s always personal. I have felt the fear/lack of interest that he’s talking about as an intelligent woman (hey-oh!) walking through this world and I don’t give a damn because a man being afraid of me is proof that he is not FOR me. He is like my students except that I am not in the position to take him by the hand, metaphorically speaking, and walk him through David Copperfield. If someone ever wants to marry me, they will be delighted by me and confident that they have something to offer me. Period. And I used to think that that was true only for me but I think it is and should be true for everyone!!!! Peterson might be even stating something true or at least COMMON when he talks about this fear but his fundamental premise is faulty a) because we never have to marry a whole group of people and b) Because he acts like this is a problem for people, specifically women, to wrestle with and it just isn’t. There is nothing to do WITH the problem. As far as our list of actionable items goes it doesn’t make the cut. Or close to it. It doesn’t matter because that lack of interest and fear is not something to be engaged with and “solved.” Literally: go with God. Yeah, maybe you get your hopes up or get hurt because you think there is a chance and then turns out there wasn’t. That sucks and is painful! But. There is still nothing to do with that except move on. A person interested in me (in you, in anyone) would not react in this way is what you gotta tell yourself. It’s just a sign it isn’t right; it’s clear communication from the universe. (The person, God’s Plan etc.)

And. This isn’t even getting into him saying things like “the average age gap between men and women who marry is 4 years” for no clear apparent reason. So the fuck what Jordan? What does this have to do with anything??? (Sorry for swearing.) Yeah I can believe in some circles that’s a common number that occurs. I also know lots of people who are not in fact four years apart. I am actually having trouble thinking of a married couple i currently know who are four years apart. Like. So. What is even being said????!??? What is the purpose behind it????? Except an attempt to fear-monger, spread a lack of hope, sow discord. But honestly sometimes I think he’s just yapping.

He’ll also contradict himself by saying things like “you only have five people to try on statistically speaking” (the hell??? Jordan???) “so choose wisely” while also saying things like “a relationship isn’t something you find, it’s something you build.” So like … which is it? Because I think solemnly choosing someone in this objective way and trying to settle into building a relationship is going to lead to a lot of needless frustration. Like. You can’t build a relationship, IMO, until the opportunity to do so appears. And feels right to both of you. And you both take it. And you cannot manufacture that, force it into existence, call it into being. I mean you can TRY. But it won’t end well. The happy right comfortable good ones are just times where the opportunity is given and both people want to take it. He won’t admit the role of grace here and I think the role of grace is everythinggggg. And this Not even getting into him referring to marriage as being handcuffed to a person and unable to walk away which is imo the wrong vibe.

Which is kinda my too-long point. It’s the wrong vibe. Things are not bleak if you look at them right. They just are what they are. I actually think the more specific of a person you are the more likely you are to find someone capable of making you happy. And yeah maybe that process will be easier for people who are younger and just sort of around people who share the same values as them etc. though even then, even !!!!! then !!!!!!!!! there’s a mystery to who finds someone and who doesn’t at certain times because you’re dealing with the human soul and free will and all its mysteries in addition to everything else. It’s always kind of a miracle. It’s always one in a million. It’s always specific, singular, personal. And once again: we desperately want to believe that there is something we can do about this to bring it about and I guess there might be, indirectly. But we can never manufacture the opportunity into existence, or study the problem away, or analyze the difficulties out of being and into our power. We just need to let it go, if we can. Jordan’s rhetoric preys on that fear in a ridiculous and ultimately contradictory way and I hate to see people believing it, being affected by it, quoting it, spouting it, internalizing it. In conclusion he can’t scare me but he can deeply annoy me. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[eirenical]

I never manage to catch WiP Wednesday on Wednesday, but I'm particularly happy with this passage, so how about a WiP Sunday? ;D

From my "The Donghai Battle was a Hatefuck" fic that that is also "let's rewrite canon so that Di Feisheng ends up traveling the jianghu with Li Lianhua for those ten years." This snippet happens not long after Di Feisheng finds Li Lianhua again after they've both recovered from the battle. Enjoy? ^_^

The first snippet shared from this fic, in case anyone is interested.

*

"If we are making bargains, then I can demand a price in return, can I not?"

Li Lianhua let out a breathless laugh and waved a hand down at himself.  "If it is my body you want in trade, then that will be a poor bargain indeed, Di-mengzhu.  I'm afraid it isn't worth quite as much as it once was."

"Though I disagree, that is not the price I would demand of you."

"Oh?  What then?  What price is worth your noninterference in my choices?"

Di Feisheng's grip on Li Lianhua's elbow loosened, sliding up along his arm to his shoulder in a gentle caress.  Li Lianhua shuddered in spite of himself.  Finally, Di Feisheng released him and took a step back.  "I've chased after you long enough.  Now that I've caught you, don't make me chase you any further."

No more running.

No more independence.

No more privacy.

What Di Feisheng was asking… it was everything.  Far more than his body would have been worth for certain.  In this one question, he was asking Li Lianhua to give up the only thing he had left of any value at all: his freedom.

Quietly he whispered, "How can you ask that of me?"

Lowering his voice in kind, Di Feisheng answered, "Because without that promise, no other promise I can extract from you will mean a thing.  I have come to know Li Lianhua well enough to know that much, at least."  He brushed gentle fingers along Li Lianhua's cheek, leaning in close to whisper his next words directly into Li Lianhua's ear.  "Let me stay, Xiangyi.  That's all I ask."

For just a moment, Li Lianhua let himself lean into that warmth, that strength, let himself test, if only for a moment, if he could let himself depend on it.  Heart pounding harder in his chest with every second that went by, Li Lianhua counted each beat as it slammed against his ribcage.  At the seventh one, he couldn't take it any longer.  Trembling, he jerked away, one word that he already regretted uttering hanging in the air between them as he ducked around Di Feisheng and fled into the crowd.

"Yes."

[edwad]

"gnawing criticism of the mice etc."

So what's the "earlier philosophical conscience" that you've broken with?

the whole podcast basically began with us talking about what exactly we wanted from marxism, what it ought to be able to do, what its limits were, etc. in the very first episode i explicitly allied myself with a "critical marxism" which was basically contentless but allowed me the flexibility to move in & out of the -ism as i pleased without having to do any of the hard part involved in serious thinking.

in a sense, that already expressed something of a crisis of ambiguity that we would toy with going forward until episode 7 (she even titled it "our concepts broke") at which point we publically (although behind a paywall i suppose) purged ourselves of all of that. cordelia was obviously ahead of me as she usually is and i was mostly just being dragged along against my will, but i think it was at least a kind of mutual self-clarification about what we expected to be able to take from our mostly joint-interest in marx (and, by extension, heinrich, since he was a constant reference point for us at the peak of heinrich twitter and when i was at my most dogmatically heinrichian). the result was that heinrich is basically what locascio has called "the final boss of marxism" (along with his most sophisticated "peers": milios, clarke, etc) in that he offers the most defensible/best case rendering of marx's work, but that the lingering problems from that point on are entirely marx's and not even heinrich could fully salvage him from them.

all of this was before i even split with the CoPE, which happened a few months later during my return to the history of thought (partly prompted via my renewed interest in sismondi and partly spurned by heinrich's science of value, which is thinking through marx in relation to the theoretical field of classical political economy and therefore largely taking him at his word). so the worldview i'd just abandoned -- and it was very much a kind of worldview of the commodity-form, as i've since accused postone of offering since i broke with its influence -- has been buried even more over time.

historically whenever people point to a "crisis of marxism" it very quickly turns into social democracy. this was definitely the case for many of the post-marxists in the 70s and 80s. my current interest is basically in charting a course out of that which doesn't end the same way. i don't know if i have the chops to pull it off, but i see cordelia's book as basically being a significant contribution to this kind of thing. for the time being i'll happily play second fiddle until ive clarified my own thoughts and have something im ready to share. maybe the pod will return eventually after the book is out and we have more to talk about, but it also feels like a unique product of the pandemic and a certain convergent moment in online marx-circles that probably won't happen again and likely wouldn't even be desireable anyway.

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Hobie With Autistic!Reader

A/N: I really wanted to try and make this a one-shot but I just couldn’t think of a good prompt so I resigned myself to headcannons. If you have a good prompt with an autistic reader though send it my way I would love to write it!! @juvenile-arm here u go hun <3 hope it’s to your liking! Sorry it took so long.

Hobie Brown x Autistic!gn!Reader

Summary: How Hobie Brown would act with an Autistic significant other.

Content: slight food aversion, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of meltdown, fluff

————

To begin, there is absolutely no feeling lesser because you’re not “normal”. That kind of thinking goes against everything Hobie believes in. You might not be “typical” but he isn’t either and he thinks it great that you’re not. It’s literally ingrained in you to fight the system and he loves that about you, even when you don’t.

You don’t have to worry about subtle social cues with Hobie, he’s the type to always say exactly what he means in plain language. Which is a blessing and a curse, but you appreciate it either way.

He’ll also really want you to meet his friends, but he understands that the pub might be to loud and crowded for your senses + having to meet new people and be social on top of that.

He’ll suggest that you all go to a park instead, his friends will probably question him briefly, as he not really the “let’s go have a picnic in a park” kind of person but once he explains that he wants you to meet them and you don’t like crowded spaces they’ll agree with no hesitation.

I have no doubt in my mind that Hobie’s friends are punk, or at least share his values. They want to meet the person who has their friend so smitten but not if that means you’ll be uncomfortable. Time for a bunch of punks to have a picnic in a park.

On the topic of his friends, he’ll absolutely want you to come to one of his performances, but he also doesn’t want you to get overstimulated. His solution is to have you sit on the side of the stage (where no one can see you) so you can still hear and see his performance but without having to be so crowded. He’ll also get you a pair of noise-canceling headphones for if the sound gets to much.

On a completely different note, food. I for one tend to hyper-fixate on foods super bad and that’s all I want to eat. Hobie won’t even question that, he’ll just ask if you want him to pick it up while he’s at the store. He’ll also work around any textures/flavors you might not like. When a recipe calls for an ingredient you don’t like but he does he’ll just pour your portion into a separate pan and keep cooking. It doesn’t bother him, so long as you wash the dishes.

On the subject of touch, if you say you don’t want to be touched right now he might pout for a moment but that will be all. He’ll bounce right back and just continue with his plans. His first love language is Physical touch but quality time is a close second and he’ll make do until you’re okay being touched again.

If you’re the type where overstimulation sneaks up on you Hobie will take to carrying a pair of earplugs, so if you start to have a meltdown you can put them in while he works on getting you both out of the environment that overstimulated you.

If you do end up getting overstimulated and having a meltdown he will get you to a quite, calm space as quickly as possible. Once there he’ll just sit with you, but he’s not the type to stare at you while you try to calm down (idk about y’all but I’ve had people do that). He’ll probably ask you before-hand what he can do that helps you. Whatever it is he’ll do his best to make it happen. He’ll probably hum a song under his breath, a gentle soft one, maybe a lullaby his mom used to sing to him when he was younger.

All in all this man doesn’t treat you like you’re different, these are things that he would do for any one he cares about if they need him to. A true provider through-and-through, and always there for you.

[thesublemon]

Theory, Reality, and 'Tango'

Happy to share a project I’ve been working on for the last few months. Around July, I happened upon a TV staging of the Polish play Tango by Sławomir Mrożek. Written in 1964, Tango is a classic of the mid-century Theater of the Absurd, as well as Polish avant-garde drama. It’s a highly famous play in Poland—a staple of high school curricula—but less well-known in the anglosphere these days. I enjoyed the staging a lot, and because it had no English subtitles, I thought I’d try to make some myself. This was a particularly fun project given that, as far as I know, the play hasn’t had a new English translation since 1968 [1]. I’ll use another post to talk a bit more about the translation process and the philosophy of translation that I found myself adopting—particularly how it differed from the philosophy I might have adopted if I was translating the play in book form, rather than a performance of it.

But for the moment, the long and short is that you can now watch Tango with my English translation on Youtube here. If you have a VPN (or are located in Poland), you can also watch on the Polish TVN website in better quality using a subtitle extension like Movie Subtitles or Substital. All subtitle files can be downloaded here.

As for the play. Tango takes place in a middle-class home of the 1960’s, and the drama centers on the dynamics between three generations of a single family. In Tango’s version of the world, permissiveness has won a complete cultural victory. Victorian traditionalism was overturned by the rebels and artists of the 1920’s, and all social values and conventions have since disappeared. Fed up with his family’s chaotic household, 25-year-old Artur, a member of the youngest generation, longs for his own form of rebellion. But with no conventions left to overthrow, the only rebellion remaining for Artur is rules and traditions. He attempts to instill order and re-impose tradition by force, but (avoiding specifics) it doesn’t go according to plan. In the end, no form of idealism wins in Tango. Not traditionalism, anti-traditionalism, or anti-anti-traditionalism. Instead, idealism ends up hollowed out and puppeted by those who are unscrupulous and willing to use violence to get what they want.

Tango struck me first because it was funny, and witty, and thematically felt startlingly relevant to the present day. This particular performance from 1999 that I’ve chosen to subtitle also struck me for being remarkably well-acted and well-staged. It’s tough to make absurdism feel emotionally genuine enough to have a dramatic effect, instead of descending into shallow pantomime and parody, and this rendition of Tango by director Maciej Englert pulls it off very well. The cast is comprised of some of Poland’s greatest stage actors of that time, and it shows.

But the play also made an impression on me because it seemed to be an unusual hybrid of theatrical modes, both in general and in the context of the Theater of the Absurd. Theater of the Absurd is often talked about as having a Western and an Eastern incarnation [2]. In the West, absurdism was considered existential and apolitical, while in the East—ie, in countries under Soviet control—absurdism was used to discuss ideas that were not safe to discuss directly. In reality, of course, this supposed division was not nearly so clear-cut. Especially since “Theater of the Absurd” wasn’t any kind of coherent artistic movement to begin with, but more of a general aesthetic trend [3]. Plenty of works that came out of the Western Theater of the Absurd had political attitudes, or at the very least observed dynamics with political implications [4]. And plenty of works that came out of the East depicted dynamics that resonated with people beyond those who lived within the Soviet bloc. This duality is especially alive in Tango, which is one of the reasons I found it such a fun and tricky play to pin down. On the one hand, one can read it as an allegory for, or commentary on, many specific things related to 19th and 20th century Polish history. On the other hand, the play’s ideas are also broad enough that it ends up feeling relevant to any number of cultures, eras, and situations.

This ink-blot quality is one of the reasons for the play’s lasting appeal. For example, how to read the collapse of values at the beginning of the play? Perhaps the social permissiveness refers to the actual liberalism of the 1920’s, and the failures of the intelligentsia that facilitated the Nazi takeover of Poland in the 1940’s. Or perhaps it refers to the destruction of decency and normalcy in the midst of war and occupation [5]. Or it refers to life on the shifting sands of Soviet dialectics, the struggle to create real meaning out of something that claims to be progressive, yet feels inherently insubstantial. Or it refers to a more general secular, postmodern condition. If values are arbitrary and self-created, then how does one choose what values to create? One reviewer of this staging observed how the impression Tango made had changed since 1964: "Artur's hysteria meant something different in the Polish People's Republic, a land of ideologues without ideals, than it does today. Searching for values at random was a mockery then—today it is perhaps one of the most moving scenes in the play.” 

(See also Martin Esslin in The Theater of the Absurd: “When Tango was first performed in Warsaw in 1964 it understandably produced a violent reaction: the audience interpreted the play’s message as a sardonic comment on Stalinism and its totalitarian structure of terror. But the play made an equally strong impact in Western Germany and other countries of non-Communist Europe…[T]he growth of arbitrary bureaucratic power, the erosion of political ideals and the consequent pursuit of power for its own sake by otherwise undistinguishable parties, led by crude, uncultured careerists, might also, after all, turn out to be a feature of…‘advanced’ Western societies.”)

All this said. I don’t think Tango is simply somehow “accidentally” about ideas that can be interpreted as being about something other than Poland’s immediate travails. Arguably, the duality exists in the text itself. The play is about Poland and Europe [6], it is in conversation with other Polish drama about Poland (Wesele, Dziady), as well as Polish absurdism (Witkacy, Gombrowicz). And it is also about things like values, and power, and art writ large, and is in conversation with Beckett, Ionesco, Chekhov, Shakespeare, and others. Specificity and universality feed each other—this is nothing new in art.

If anything, the tension between the specific and the universal seems like one of the biggest features of the play. Tango is a war between idea and reality, the abstract and the concrete. And this is another way in which it’s an unusual theatrical hybrid. You might even call it a theatrical identity crisis.

Broad history: Prior to the 19th century, Western theater did not tend to be realistic in the modern sense of it. Instead it was characterized by symbolism, exaggeration, and verse. Greek plays, opera, Shakespeare, Molière. Such theater could be subtle and true, but it did not generally aim for trompe l’oeil mimicry of real life, or have much interest in “regular” people and everyday events. Then after a 19th and 20th century turn towards realism (Chekhov, Ibsen, Shaw, etc), the Theater of the Absurd introduced a new and defiant kind of abstraction. In absurdist plays there might be internal, if absurd, logic, but the settings, characters and narratives tend to have only a limited amount of naturalism. Images are symbolic, language is Aesopian, and events take place in dreamy, generalized settings rather than a particular time and place. To the extent that absurdist plays use the concrete or naturalistic, it’s usually to immediately subvert it. Eugène Ionesco’s The Bald Soprano, for instance, blares the Englishness of the characters and the setting, but in a way that is obviously nonsensical, and comedic (or horrific) precisely because it has only a superficial correspondence to the England of real life:

MRS. SMITH: There, it’s nine o’clock. We’ve drunk the soup, and eaten the fish and chips, and the English salad. The children have drunk English water. We’ve eaten well this evening. That’s because we live in the suburbs of London and because our name is Smith. [7]

Or The Lesson, another Ionesco, starts out in a naturalistically appointed room, with what could be naturalistic characters, but within two pages begins a jarring descent into blatant absurdity. Theater of the Absurd doesn’t just do away with realism, either. It also does away with the conventional narrative structures of both realistic and earlier, less-realistic theater. Various works in the Theater of the Absurd were called anti-theater for this reason. Instead of having a typical beginning, middle, and end, or problem-escalation-resolution, absurdist plays are often circular and unresolved. Vladimir and Estragon start Waiting for Godot waiting, and they finish it waiting. The endings of The Bald Soprano and The Lesson repeat their beginnings, like a mirror reflected in a mirror. Absurdity arises from the inescapable, Sisyphean nature of existential dilemmas, and this ends up reflected in the most basic structures of absurdist theater.

Compared to such plays, Tango makes a surprising amount of sense [8]. It has a beginning, middle, and end. It is not set in the real world, but it is set in “a” real world, with a vague but coherent history. The characters don’t speak like real people exactly, but they do have consistent motivations and personalities. They’re not anti-characters like the Smiths and Martins in The Bald Soprano. The play also contains various gestures towards naturalism. The idea of a play about regular people who live in a regular apartment, is taken straight from the realistic tradition. The stage instructions are detailed, insisting upon a set cluttered with specific items, with characters in specific clothes, all of which are taken from real life. Here’s an example from the beginning of Act III:

We see before us a conventional, bourgeois living room from half a century ago. The confusion, blurriness, and lack of contours are gone. The draperies, which had previously been strewn about—half-lying and half-hanging—giving the stage random folds and making it look like a rumpled bed, are now in their places and have become proper, regular draperies. The catafalque remains in the same place…but is now covered with napkins and trinkets, like an ordinary sideboard.

For a key moment of violence, Mrożek even makes a point of saying that the execution must be naturalistic:

Attention! This scene must be very realistic. Both blows must be performed in such a way that their theatrical fiction is not obvious. Have the revolver be made of rubber, or even feathers, or have [the actor] wear some kind of pad under [their] collar. It doesn't matter, as long as it doesn't look ‘theatrical’.

Tango also “makes sense” in that it (seemingly) contains the comprehensible allegory and symbolism of more conventional theater. Each of the characters could potentially be read as a representative of a different generation or some piece of the social fabric, much like the characters in Stanisław Wyspiański’s Wesele [9]. You can read grand-uncle Eugeniusz as the avatar of traditionalism—a class that supposedly cared about values, but in practice turned out to be craven and opportunistic. Or Artur’s father Stomil as the aging, ineffectual avant-garde. Or Artur’s cousin and fiancée Ala as “the people”, torn between Artur’s flavor of bullying idealism, and the vacant brutality of the family’s boorish houseguest Edek. 

Yet in spite of all of this “sense”, the play is undeniably absurdist, full of the kind of seeming nonsense typical of other absurdist theater. Artur punishes Eugeniusz by putting a birdcage on his head, or makes his grandmother lie on a catafalque. There are illogical exchanges like the following:

ARTUR: Will you be staying with us for long? ALA: I don’t know. I told my mother I might not come back. ARTUR: What did she say? ALA: Nothing. She wasn’t at home.

And in general, the events of the play progress in an absurd fashion. There’s no logical reason that Artur’s schemes for his family could actually change the social structure of the world. Supposedly serious things like murder and repression are casually and comedically invoked (until they aren’t).

ARTUR: You know what, Father? Why don’t we try [killing Edek] after all? There’s no risk. At worst, you’ll shoot him. STOMIL: You think so?

In other words, Tango references and evokes, in both form and content, the last few hundred years of Western theater. The cultural call-and-response of tradition, rebellion, and counter-reformation that it depicts parallels the artistic call-and-response of traditional theater, realism, and absurdism. It is bogged down by theatrical history much as Artur is bogged down by social history. 

This table, even more than the interior as a whole, gives the impression of confusion, randomness and sloppiness. Each plate, each item, comes from a different service, from a different era and is in a different style.

There’s a certain confusion and chaos surrounding what kind of play this is supposed to be. Should a playwright comment on a social situation, express a human condition, or experiment with form? What kind of play is good for art? Good for people? Good in general? Tango features outright mockery of empty avant-garde theater, and an interesting ambivalence about symbolism. On the one hand, the play clearly uses symbolism. On the other hand, it was written in a context in which symbolism and indirectness were required in order for it to be performed in its original language behind the Iron Curtain.

Throughout the play, the characters debate the value of “form”, “reality” and “idea”, and how and whether to either achieve or integrate or discard them. It is the age-old debate, in both society and art, of how to balance theory with reality, truth with artifice. But–just as in history–none of the characters can resolve the debate, and most are hypocrites about their positions. The characters crave and fear reality in equal measure. Stomil, who makes impotent experimental theater, champions the idea of going “beyond form”--ie, going beyond things like rules and abstractions. He denounces the rule-loving Artur as a “vulgar formalist” and celebrates Edek for his “authenticity.” But for all that Stomil claims that his art is trying to achieve some sort of grand concreteness, his creations and explanations are all highly inaccessible and theoretical (after shocking his audience by setting off a gun: “By direct action–we create unity between the moment of action and perception”). And he admits that he doesn’t actually like Edek, who is sleeping with his wife Eleonora (“I’ve had my eye on that scoundrel for a long time. You don’t know how much I’d love to finish him off.”). Meanwhile Artur claims to want a return to order and tradition, but he also wants to rebel–something inherently destabilizing.

STOMIL: What do you want exactly, tradition? ARTUR: World order! STOMIL: Is that all? ARTUR: And the right to rebel.

And when he tries to follow through with his plans he finds the results hollow and unsatisfying. He finds that reality erodes principle, and yet principles that are not animated by an idea, that is in turn animated by reality, lack vitality and endurance. He strives for “a system in which rebellion is one with order, and nothingness with existence” that “will transcend contradictions entirely!” Much like Stomil with his theatrical gunshot, Artur thinks he can conquer such contradictions by wielding force–something seemingly fundamentally “real”. But in the end, his talent turns out to mainly be in exalting the concept of force, rather than actually embodying it.

Meanwhile Eugeniusz supposedly wants a return to propriety. Not so much order, like Artur, but an appearance of moral rectitude, the rituals of civilization (“Start a family. Brush your teeth. Eat with a fork and knife! Make the world sit up straight again instead of slouching.”). He detests Edek’s “filth” and the “degradation” of the rest of the family. Yet for all his love of the forms of properness, no one is more willing to lower himself than Eugeniusz. He is quick to abandon his supposed principles and attach himself to whoever has power.

This sense of contradiction and call-and-response between theory and reality is even echoed in the structure of the play. The first act starts out as more absurdistly symbolist–the characters play rhyming card games, Artur metes out his birdcage and catafalque punishments, Ala turns out to have been hidden under a table the whole time, Stomil puts on a play about Adam and Eve. Then the second act becomes more naturalistic, with long one-on-one, interpersonal conversations that contain more conventional dramatic stakes. And finally the third act combines both modes. The third act is full of both abstract ideas and images–the family in their tight old-fashioned clothes, Artur’s quest for a unifying philosophy–and regular human drama related to marriage and infidelity. Until it finally ends in a moment of violent naturalism, in the form of that realistic blow (“Attention! This scene must be very realistic.”).

Taken as a whole, Tango follows the pattern and tenor of dialectical debate, with satirical circularity. Soviet dialectics promised a means of navigating and resolving contradictions. It promised a means of understanding the cycles of history, and existing in the correct moral relation to them. Add more context, add more cleverness, and the cycles are no longer confusing. You can win them. In practice though, this version of dialectics often merely acted as an elaborate justification for otherwise unjustifiable political ends [10]. But unlike in a dialectical debate, Tango makes the crude, concrete conclusions explicit. The winner of Tango is not a dialectician. The winner is violent reality, simply wearing philosophy’s jacket. 

What Maciej Englert’s staging understands, and one of the reasons it had such an effect on me, is the real human feeling that suffuses the play. Artur’s confusion and distress are real. As is Stomil’s frustrated impotence, Ala’s love, or even Eugenia’s fear and irritation. The cozy, chaotic naturalism of the set (taken straight from the script directions) emphasizes this human scale. Tango is not simply a detached satire of Stalinism, “some abstract hypothesis, a play on words, a product of intellectual imagination.” It is about the tension between the human and everything more than human–and in order for that tension to work, the human aspect needs to be just as apparent as the abstract aspect. To paraphrase a good review, Artur in this production is both scary and pitiful, human and symbol. Eleonora seems at first a caricature, but “becomes unexpectedly moving in the scene in which she talks humanly, without a mask, to Ala.” While Ala is full of “the truth of unhappy feelings...the cynicism that usually dominates this role in other stagings is put in quotation marks; [she] only pretends to be nonchalant towards life.” And this is also why it is all the more crushing when both the human and the abstract turn out to have been paving the way for something worse, something they both lose out to.

*

Theater of Absurd appeals to me at the moment. It feels relevant. To the world, to my life. And the way Tango combines the Western and Eastern forms of the absurd gets at why. In the “Eastern” form, absurdism springs from a breakdown of logical reasoning that is imposed by external forces: war, authoritarian whim. Hence plays like Julius Hay’s The Horse, which tells the story of Caligula appointing his horse Incitatus to the Roman Senate, leading the population to start acting like horses. Or Václav Havel’s The Memorandum, in which bureaucratic characters are forced to communicate in an overly-rational neo-language that none of them can understand. In the “Western” form, absurdism springs from a more existential, post-modern breakdown of logical reasoning: how is one to make sense of existence if there is no objective logic? If all of the former institutions of meaning–religion, government, class, materialism, and so on–are meaningless, then what is left? And just as in Tango, it often feels today as if those two forms of absurdity have combined. If they were ever even separate.

No, of course I do not live under a totalitarian state, in the present-day West. I do not worry about gulags or famine or being hauled off in the night for saying the wrong thing. But there is a sense of institutional decay, and a sense of pretending otherwise about this. A sense that important details of my life are determined by obscure power struggles between people who are incompetent or ill-intentioned, or both. A sense of people going insane, and feeling proud of it all the while. A sense of nihilistic chaos lurking at the door, and people saying “Would it be so bad to let it in?” Meanwhile the internet accelerates countless forms of absurdity. It instills a surveillance mindset. It destroys old forms of reverence, and creates new, bizarre ones. Now you can see the most pathetic aspects of politicians and artists and intellectuals laid open on social media. Now you can see regular people turn themselves into grifters, beggars, and compulsive performers. It would almost be more dignified if people did this due to explicit government repression, or out of purely mercenary ambition. Instead of out of a more basic human, animal sense of precarity. Am I important? Am I safe? Do I have enough? Do I belong? Do you like me? Do you like me? Do you like me? 

Former markers of respectability are losing their meaning. Respectability itself is losing meaning. And quite possibly these things deserve to be destroyed, perhaps this is just normal cultural turnover, but it’s not yet clear what is waiting to grow out of the rubble. For a while, maybe a decade, there was a swing towards authenticity. Fetishistic authenticity usually, but authenticity nonetheless. Hipster natural material aesthetics–being into leather, wood, iron, pickling. Relatability, parasociality, confession. This all still exists to some degree, but has lost much of its awkward earnestness, some genuine desire to be post-ironic, some kind of novelty. The fakery of amateurism rather than cynicism. Now fakery and authenticity are so intertwined it starts to feel like both have lost their meaning. Performance and entertainment are endemic, except they’ve never felt less like entertainment, or more like narcotics. Performance gains its power from its tension with truth, reality. Without reality, performance is impotent. And yet it’s never been more important. Absurd.

The internet simultaneously creates an unprecedented awareness of reality, and an unprecedented detachment from it. There have long been ways in which one could be awash in information and entertainment from waking until sleep. Television, books. There have been means of stupefaction for even longer. Intoxicants of all kinds. But the internet is more than just a stream of information in which people can lie down, open their jaws, and passively drink. It is interactive, frequently intensely so. The information, unlike in a book, is often related to what is happening right now. And unlike in a paper or on the news, the information is often delivered by people in one’s social circle. Suddenly one is aware of a thousand different things, horrible and otherwise, and not only that, the awareness comes along with the opportunity for action–money, publicity, simple acknowledgement–and hundreds of people one knows can see that action. You can live your life in a holodeck world. Yet down the line, reality keeps being real, and is affected by that holodeck world–mortally and trivially. These are not new observations really. Still, that combination of interactivity, intensity and detachment turns “reality” into something that is both omnipresent and intangible. Absurd.

It’s always been absurd. “Reality” has always been both obvious and ineffable, something to philosophically struggle with. “Truth” has always been difficult to grasp, and difficult to represent. Map and territory, forever locked in combat. But just as circumstances made this fundamental absurdity feel closer to the surface in the mid-20th century, so does it feel closer now. Theater of the Absurd arrived on the heels of decades of talk of perfectibility. Nazi perfectibility, Soviet perfectibility, even the perfectibility of the liberal, capitalist order. Promises of surmounting the lesser aspects of humanity. Purge or plan society in the right way, and you’ll be on the way to becoming better than human. Yet time and again, those lesser aspects had a way of revealing and reasserting themselves. Murder, cruelty, exploitation. Pettiness, cowardice, selfishness. All of these things, it turned out, could thrive regardless (or because) of a system’s stated ideals. And perhaps we’re in another phase of finding out that the latest means of elevating humanity is simply enabling new and twisted manifestations of the same old problems. 

Idealism loses many times over in Tango. And each time it deserves to. The traditionalists repress, the rebels create listless chaos, and Artur’s anti-rebellion leads to repression once again, but this time with even less meaning behind it. Yet when crudeness without idealism–reality without idea–wins, it’s even more horrifying. So what’s the answer? Is there an escape? Will Godot ever appear?

Tango proposes the pessimistic view. Yes, the endless generational cycles of rebellion and counter-rebellion can end. The search for meaning and selfhood can end. History can end–in nightmare. Perhaps that’s not a productive view to live by. Certainly one could write an entire other essay about the persistence of human virtue. But sometimes it is a view that is worth inhabiting for a while.

*

[1] And because, it must be said, I did not know Polish at the time I started the project. The two previous translations were both written in 1968. One is by Ralph Manheim and Teresa Dzieduscycka, published by Grove Press. It can still be found in print as part of The Mrożek Reader, or used. The other translation is by Nicholas Bethell and Tom Stoppard. It is not in print that I know of. I was able to find it used in the collection Three East European Plays. Both translations have their strengths and weaknesses. Overall though, I wasn’t a huge fan of either one. They each do the job in their own way, but I also found them to be a bit wordy in a way that blunted the tight, biting quality of the humor of the original. If I had to choose, I would lean towards the Bethell and Stoppard translation for reading and the Manheim and Dzieduscycka translation for performing.

[2] See Marketa Goetz Stankiewicz in “Slawomir Mrozek: Two Forms of the Absurd” for a good discussion of this. Both as it applies to Theater of the Absurd generally, and to Mrożek specifically. [jstor] [scribd]

[3] From Martin Esslin’s introduction to The Theater of the Absurd:

It must be stressed, however, that the dramatists whose work is here discussed do not form part of any self-proclaimed or self-conscious school or movement. On the contrary, each of the writers in question is an individual who regards himself as a lone outsider, cut off and isolated in his private world. Each has his own personal approach to both subject-matter and form; his own roots, sources, and background. If they also, very clearly and in spite of themselves, have a good deal in common, it is because their work most sensitively mirrors and reflects the preoccupations and anxieties, the emotions and thinking of many of their contemporaries in the Western world.

[4] From Stankiewicz, “Slawomir Mrozek: Two Forms of the Absurd”:

to the Warsaw audience Ionesco and Beckett are felt to be political writers. Their characters, like Mrozek's slogan-spouting little men, are seen as victims of a specific way of life forced upon them. The ‘enemy’ can be identified, or rather he is discovered, while the laughter still echoes through the theater.

[5] Take this from The Captive Mind by Czesław Miłosz, describing the mental shock of conquest in WW2 Poland:

[A man’s] first stroll along a street littered with glass from bomb-shattered windows shakes his faith in the ‘naturalness’ of his world. The wind scatters papers from hastily evacuated offices, papers labeled ‘Confidential’ or ‘Top Secret’ that evoke visions of safes, keys, conferences, couriers, and secretaries. Now the wind blows them through the street for anyone to read…he stops before a house split in half by a bomb, the privacy of people's homes—the family smells, the warmth of the beehive life, the furniture preserving the memory of loves and hatreds—cut open to public view…overnight money loses its value and becomes a meaningless mass of printed paper….Once, had he stumbled upon a corpse on the street, he would have called the police…Now he knows he must avoid the dark body lying in the gutter, and refrain from asking unnecessary questions…Everyone ceases to care about formalities, so that marriage, for example, comes to mean little more than living together....Respectable citizens used to regard banditry as a crime. Today, bank robbers are heroes because the money they steal is destined for the Underground….The nearness of death destroys shame. Men and women…copulate in public, on the small bit of ground surrounded by barbed wire—their last home on earth.

[6] See Daniel Gerould’s interpretation from The Mrożek Reader: 

Tango takes the family as a microsociety, or scale model, for studying the history of modern Europe. The disintegration of the three different generations of the farcical Stomil clan, each representing a further step in the historical debacle, charts the decline and fall of European civilization from turn-of-the-century liberalism through interwar avant-garde experimentation to the present-day triumph of totalitarianism. By the use of parody and allusion (citations come from Shakespeare and the Polish romantic and modernist traditions), Mrozek creates a multi-layered work—a museum of modern European art, manners, and morals—which serves as a prism for viewing the relations of culture to power and for assessing the intelligentsia’s responsibility for glorifying force as the ultimate value.

[7] The Bald Soprano by Eugène Ionesco, trans. Donald M. Allen.

[8] Even compared to much of Mrożek’s work prior to Tango. 

[9] Written in 1901, Wesele (or “The Wedding”) is one of the preeminent works of Polish theater. It tells the story of a wedding party celebrating the mixed-class marriage of a young city poet to a peasant girl. The party is made up of guests from all walks of Polish life, and they mingle uneasily over the course of the night. Ghosts from Polish history and mythology appear, exacerbating the social tensions.

[10] See The Captive Mind for a description of the experience of living in a political and intellectual atmosphere in which Soviet dialectical materialism was the dominant philosophy. It’s difficult to pick any one particular quote, but here are a couple:

Dialectics is the ‘logic of contradictions’ applicable, according to the wise men, to those cases where formal logic is inadequate, namely to phenomena in motion. Because human concepts as well as the phenomena observed by men are in motion, ‘contradictions contained in the concepts are but reflections, or translations into the language of thought, of those contradictions which are contained in the phenomena.’ [...] The Method exerts a magnetic influence on contemporary man because it alone emphasizes, as has never before been done, the fluidity and interdependence of phenomena. Since the people of the twentieth century find themselves in social circumstances where even the dullest mind can see that ‘naturalness’ is being replaced by fluidity and interdependence, thinking in categories of motion seems to be the surest means of seizing reality in the act. The Method is mysterious; no one understands it completely–but that merely enhances its magic power. Its elasticity, as exploited by the Russians, who do not possess the virtue of moderation, can result at times in the most painful edicts. Nevertheless, history shows us that a healthy, reasoning mind was rarely an effective guide through the labyrinth of human affairs. The Method profits from the discoveries of Marx and Engels, from their moral indignation, and from the tactics of their successors who have denied the rightness of moral indignation. It is like a snake, which is undoubtedly a dialectical creature: ‘Daddy, does a snake have a tail?’ asked the little boy. ‘Nothing but a tail,’ answered the father. This leads to unlimited possibilities, for the tail can begin at any point.

Paradoxical as it may seem, it is this subjective impotence that convinces the intellectual that the one Method is right. Everything proves it is right. Dialectics: I predict the house will burn; then I pour gasoline over the stove. The house burns; my prediction is fulfilled. Dialectics: I predict that a work of art incompatible with socialist realism will be worthless. Then I place the artist in conditions in which such a work is worthless. My prediction is fulfilled.

*

SOURCES

This list is not academically exhaustive, and isn’t trying to be. I was limited by what I could read in five months–both in terms of personal interest and ability, and in terms of what I could get access to. But it should give a general idea re: what has informed this post.

Plays & Fiction:

The Bald Soprano (Eugène Ionesco, trans. Donald M. Allen), The Lesson (Eugène Ionesco, trans. Donald M. Allen), Waiting for Godot (Samuel Beckett), Endgame (Samuel Beckett), The Maids (Jean Genet, trans. Bernard Frechtman), Tango (Sławomir Mrożek, trans. Ralph Manheim and Teresa Dzieduscycka, trans. Nicholas Bethell and Tom Stoppard), The Police (Sławomir Mrożek, trans. Nicholas Bethell), The Elephant (Sławomir Mrożek, trans. Konrad Syrop), The Memorandum (Václav Havel, trans. Vera Blackwell), The Horse (Julius Hay, trans. Peter Hay), Hamlet (William Shakespeare), Macbeth (William Shakespeare), Pygmalion (George Bernard Shaw), The Wedding (Stanisław Wyspiański, trans. Noel Clark), The Marriage (Witold Gombrowicz, trans. Louis Iribarne), Dziady, Part III (Adam Mickiewicz, trans. Google, trans. Count Potocki of Montalk), The Moon is Down (John Steinbeck), Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky, trans. David McDuff), War and Peace (Leo Tolstoy, trans. Louise and Aylmer Maude), 1984 (George Orwell), Chekhov: The Major Plays (Anton Chekhov, trans. Ann Dunnigan)

Filmed adaptations:

Tango (1999, dir. Maciej Englert), Wesele (1972, dir. Andrzej Wajda), Wesele (2019, dir. Wawrzyniec Kostrzewski), Dziady (1997, dir. Jan Englert), Ślub (1992, dir. Jerzy Jarocki)

Non-fiction:

Anonymous, trans. Philip Boehm. A Woman in Berlin. 1954.

Juliette Bretan.“‘Life Makes Most Sense at the Height of Nonsense’: Interwar Polish Absurdism.” October 2020. [link]

Jan Bończa-Szabłowski. “The young one spoils everything.” November 3, 2010. [link]

Robert Brustein. “Foreword”, Chekhov: The Major Plays. 1982.

Michał Bujanowicz. “On Sławomir Mrożek - Playwright’s Tango.” April 2004. [link] 

Michael Childers. “The Direction and Presentation of Tango.” 1977. [link]

Martin Esslin. Theater of the Absurd, Third Edition. 2001.

Martin Esslin. “Introduction,” Three East European Plays. 1970.

Daniel Gerould. “Introduction: Mrożek for the Twenty-First Century,” The Mrożek Reader. 2004.

Eugenia Semyonovna Ginzburg, trans. Paul Stevenson and Max Hayward. Journey Into the Whirlwind. 1967.

Malwina Głowacka. “Tango.” Więź, No. 11. November 1, 1997. [link]

Joanna Godlewska. “Tango.” Przegląd Powszechny, No. 9. 1997. [link]

Jacek Kopciński. “Sleep and awakening.” March 2019. [link]

Jan Kott, trans. L. Krzyzanowski. “Introduction: Face and Grimace, ” The Marriage. 1969.

Janusz R. Kowalczyk. “Tender Irony.” Rzeczpospolita, No. 14. June 19, 1997. [link]

Magnus J. Kryński. “Mrozek, Tango, and an American Campus.” The Polish Review, Vol. 15, No. 2 (Spring, 1970). [jstor]

Keith Lowe. Savage Continent: Europe in the Aftermath of World War II. 2012.

Wojciech Majcherek. “The Last ‘Tango’ in Warsaw.” Express Wieczorny, No. 140. June 17, 1997. [link]

Czesław Miłosz, trans. Jane Zielonko. The Captive Mind. 1953.

Michael C. O’Neill. “A Collage of History in the Form of Mrozek’s Tango.” The Polish Review, Vol. 28, No. 2 (1983). [jstor]

Jerzy Peterkiewicz. “Introduction: The Straw Man at a Wedding,” The Wedding. 1998.

Jacek Sieradzki. “The author of ‘Tango’ dances with us.” Polityka, No. 37. September 13, 1997. [link]

Marketa Goetz Stankiewicz. “Slawomir Mrozek: Two Forms of the Absurd”. Contemporary Literature

Vol. 12, No. 2 (Spring, 1971). [jstor] [scribd]

Mardi Valgemae. “Allegory of the Absurd: An Examination of Four East European Plays.” Comparative Drama, Vol. 5, No. 1 (Spring 1971). [jstor]

Jacek Wakar. “Great ‘Tango’ for the opening of a new stage.” Życie Warszawy. June 16, 1997. [link]

Piotr Zaremba. “Important ‘Wedding’ Anno domini 2019.” February 19, 2019. [link]

“Tango.” FilmPolski.pl. [link]

[cuephrase]

2024 Writing Review

tagged in this by @androxys, tysm!!

number of stories posted to ao3: four- three drabbles, one one-shot and one multi-chap fic

word counted posted for last year: 37, 886!! that's so much for me, crazy (both 2022 and 2023 were around 7k, for comparison)

fandoms i wrote for: batman - all media types, babyyyy. two of the drabbles were very comic specific so i have batman (comics) and nightwing (comics) tagged. wait. lmao that was wrong, i've edited it now, was supposed to be batgirl (comics) someone help me oh my god

pairings: we've got two hits for Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, then Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Everyone, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, and Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne

so, bc that's giving me a headache, five Dick tags, four Tim tags, four Bruce tags, four Jason tags, and one Cass tag. all but three of those are one fic tho lmao.

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: penance, far and away. that fic got (is getting?) so much more love than i could have imagined or hoped for. absolutely mind-blowing fr

work i’m most proud of (and why): okay so this is a tie between penance and plea for two completely opposite reasons! penance is the first multichap fic i've ever completed and that's a huge milestone for me. plea i'm really proud of bc it's only 100 words but i feel like i managed to accomplish absolutely everything i wanted to and it's sooooooo satisfying to me.

work i’m least proud of (and why): hmmmmm. maybe inventory? it was supposed to be fluff and i corrupted it. so that frustrates me when i think about it even though the finished product isn't bad.

share or describe a favorite review you received: oh gosh ummmmm. help. i really loved every comment letting me know they'd cried real tears bc i am Evil. but if i had to choose one comment, i think this one has stuck with me the most (some parts blocked out bc Spoilers)

the fic has an ending spoiler now that it's complete, but when i was posting it i hadn't totally nailed the ending down. that apprehension meant so much to me, that willingness to follow the story- i could be reading into it idk, but i really value the trust that early readers had because, quite frankly, i don't think i had earned it. i also loved that they both couldn't decide what to think about tim and that they liked it- what i was portraying is messy and complicated and i think there's a really fine line there between stuff being ooc or frustrating or exhausting or dissatisfying with that kind of thing, so it was super !!!!! to have successfully walked that line for them!

but my favorite part of this comment is easily "the power of love is truly an ugly and beautiful thing...made me appreciate life". i don't really write romances, but the power of love is one of those things i end up wrestling with thematically a lot because it's just so captivating and it's one of those things i feel like i can't ever find the words for actually, i need you to just feel it and they felt it and- yeah. just yeah. and then writing/storytelling is something i use to help me appreciate life so overall just 🥹😭🫶 x1000

a time when writing was really, really hard: after i finished penance, rip. i got psyched out by all the positive attention and couldn't write 😅. there were plenty of times this year where i just wasn't trying to write so like i guess that was hard, but being paralyzed by overthinking when i had plenty of ideas and wanted to write Sucked. it's okay, i talked to my therapist finger guns

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: slight penance spoilers lol, but in ch 3, the dick and tim hug surprised me. not that it happened, bc i knew it was going to, but i just had the image of the scene, yk, not like. how it would truly feel to be in dick's headspace in that moment. and omg. it just attacked me. i couldn't stop crying it was so frustrating. i'd pause to collect myself, come back and just nope. the scene is actually shorter than i originally envisioned bc i physically couldn't smh

a favourite excerpt of your writing: oh gosh. um um ummmmmm i really like this bit from ch 1 of penance-

this moment was just incredibly fun for so many reasons, not least of which is that i got to break tim for the first time 😇

how did you grow as a writer last year: i learned that i can, in fact, start and finish something that isn't a one shot. idk if my writing has improved on a technical level at all? but, despite it being a bit of a one step forward, two steps back thing at times, i do think i gained some confidence in my ability to write and that'll be really nice in the long run if i can, yk. take the steps forward without going back.

how do you hope to grow this year: by writing more. i want to actually write things instead of daydreaming and maybe getting down like twenty words and then never looking at it again. at my most ambitious, i build a habit.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): oh shoot. i got so much support from so many people i almost don't know where to start. i am so beyond grateful to everyone who has supported me, and i'm going to single out @a-canceled-stamp, @canonicallyshort, and @koraesrambles for enabling the crap out of me. love you guys sm!!!! (that extends to everyone not just those three ofc!!)

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: the grieving process haha.

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: oh gosh ummmmmm. follow your gut. forget about audience, and rules, and whatever- if you know the story you want to tell, tell that story. just get it out. it deserves to be told.

any projects you’re looking to start (or finish) this year: the sequel to penance. my jason fic, my dick fic. i don't want to get ahead of myself or anything, but i hope i've got a handful of fics to look back on next year!!

no pressure tagging @sunflowersandink, @goldenraeofsun, @fleur-de-violette, @byrambles, and @elegitre (plus everyone already tagged)!!

[apoptoses]

♟ If they like board games, and how good they are at ‘em (for Armand)

and of course

☾ Sleeping habits (for Our Boys daniel/armand/louis 👀)

♟ If they like board games, and how good they are at ‘em (for Armand)

Does he like board games? Yes. Is he good at them? To the point Daniel has refused to play at times lmao

I just think he'd be the worst combination of rules lawyer but also arbitrary. Like if they're playing ticket to ride he's analyzing every move Daniel makes and denying him the ability to move a single car if it's already touched the board. You start placing your cars along a route and realize there's a better path? Too bad, you set one token down, Armand is not allowing take backs. Catan? He's ruthless, he knows the rules and will make life hell.

But he's also the kind of demon who learned about the concept of 'house rules' from drunk Daniel back in the 80s, and now the Trinity Gate monopoly nights take like seven hours because properties aren't being auctioned off and every time Lestat says anything about how this shit is unfair, he's the prince- he's forced to place $100 in the pot in the middle of the board and game drags on and on and fucking on.

Also I see him into those really complex modern board games that have like, six decks of cards, a rule book as thick as a dictionary, and need at least an hour to explain to a new player. Like wingspan or time stories. But that's fine because everyone in the household has their preferred complex game (I think Louis would dig time stories tbh) and he's down for any of them.

☾ Sleeping habits (for Our Boys daniel/armand/louis 👀)

Oh man oh man I had to marinate on this one, I have THOUGHTS.

This is a relationship configuration where Armand can sit back and be doted on and he's taking advantage of that. Like he is always always always sleeping in the middle on the nights they're all home. He just really enjoys the weight and comfort of being surrounded by the two of them but in like, two main configurations-

Armand on his back, with Louis and Daniel on their sides facing him- a fave because he gets the joy of their faces tucked up close to his cheek/neck, or a chin resting on his shoulder. ALSO because he gets the entertainment value of Louis and Daniel trying to figure out whose arm goes where like who gets to hold his waist, who gets a hand on his chest.

And it's awkward the first couple times because neither of them know if its okay if their arms brush, like what if they BOTH want their hand on Armand's chest? But after a few nights everyone is used to it, and occasionally Armand will feel Daniel's hand push against Louis' and shove it over a little just to be a pest. And Armand hears Louis sigh but he doesn't take the bait and push back like Lestat would, he just waits until the night Daniel is least expecting it and grabs his hand and holds onto it. And now they're buddies who share a bed with their shared boyfriend and hold hands and boy does that make for some interesting eavesdropping into Louis' mind for Armand.

Armand getting spooned by Louis, with Daniel on his side wrapped around Armand like an octopus- This one happens most often if Daniel is a straggler and comes to bed last. He has to lift Armand's arm, sneak in and snuggle up with his face buried in Armand's chest. And he's tall so being down this low results in his feet sticking off the bottom of the bed but that's alright, sometimes waking up with two people playing with his hair makes up for it.

And Armand likes this because he gets to feel squashed between them but his face is still out, and Louis would like it because his chin can rest atop Armand's head. Because I think both of them have some weird trauma that would lead them to wanting to be able to see their surroundings as soon as they open their eyes, and not want to feel smothered before they fall asleep. Like Louis getting buried in the wall in that coffin, and Armand's....everything. They're both a little hypervigilant as a result.

ALSO

In my heart of hearts Armand is like Lestat, a morning (evening?) person who is ready to get out of bed and go. But Louis and Daniel both like to linger in that space between death sleep and wakefulness, where they're napping like mortals and groggy.

And Daniel missed out on sleeping a full night with Armand for so long, right? Like as a mortal he'd wake up groping for Armand even though he's not there, and would wind up hugging a pillow instead.

So now whenever Armand springs out of bed alone and gets dressed he gets treated to the sight of Daniel shifting around until he snuggles up to Louis' arm and gets settled again. And Louis is so used to Lestat clinging that he doesn't even stir, he's accepted that tall blond men drooling on his shoulder is his fate ♥

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Evie (Ace!Tav) Playthrough Day 2

Day 1 — Day 3

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

For the uninitiated, I wrote a Tav well before I ever had a chance to play the game. Now, I finally can and thought it might be fun for my first play through to be as that Tav. Or, at least as much as the game play will allow me.

These are just some of my notes and scattered highlights that I thought would be fun to share.

Let me know if you think if I should continue this and any suggestions you might have.

Okay, so actually playing the game, I really have to think about what Evie thinks of the mindflayers. Genuine terror is my first reaction. I can't imagine she's even heard of them or Gith for that matter.

Her seeing the injured mindflayer and how they tried to take over her mind frightened her, which is my kind of subtext motivation for why she reacted in anger and killed it

Something to keep in mind for later; honestly need more fics about Tavs in general with PTSD from the mindflayers

Moving on from that; Gale!

I'm more convinced now that Evie and Gale get on from the jump

A little full of himself on first impression? Yes, but much more polite and verbose than the alien, cagey cleric and the man who just put a knife to her throat.

As an aside, Evie did break out of Astarion's grip, she talked him down; I think talking her way out of things is more her style, I'm not sure if that will continue to be a viable solution but we'll see

And on the subject of Astarion; my novice understanding of game mechanics is not leaving him and Evie on the right foot

I thought I could break down the door with thunder wave and ended up hitting Astarion instead

Also, I really did think he was clear of the stone when I dropped it

Honestly tempted to write a short fic based around that; I can't imagine Astarion letting that little accident go any time soon

Y'all weren't exaggerating about Shadowheart though; she missed so many of her attacks

MVP really does have to go to Gale, between fire bolt and his staff he was really pulling most of us through the encounters, the undead around Withers tomb especially

For his question I ended up answering with Evie saying that "one life is infinite in value and merits sacrificing everything"

I did admittedly have to think about Evie's answer, but I think at the end of the day Evie is a romantic at heart

It's gotten her into more than more bad situation, but she's not ambivalent towards people and has tried as she's gotten older to be the person she wished she had when she was younger

(I can also see Astarion hearing this and wanting to scoff, but also tucking it away for later; a bleeding heart could be useful)

Also if anybody knows what I might have missed on the cliffs; the entire party failed their survival checks; nothing happened that I can tell, but please tell me!

Not going to lie, started heading towards the grove and immediately turned around because I wanted to make sure I found Lae'zel first

I knew for a fact I would get distracted at the grove and wanted to make sure I had her in the party

Was not expecting to kill some tieflings; Evie would want to protect the person who most certainly saved her life, but that's another thing for her to feel guilty about

I imagine before getting captured killing folks wasn't really her thing

I really want to get to the grove, but I think next time I log in I've got to get the team to take a long rest; Shadowheart was really badly hurt and everyone is out of spell slots

Wish me luck!