#it was only 5000 won

[microwave-core]

Hello, I hope you are well.

Could you possibly write a fic where Cynthia has been instantly busy by faraway research partners summoning her for her professional opinion, fans wanting a picture or to battle, and always interrupting her and their readers day or hangouts whenever they go out? But eventually, Cynthia figures something out to make it up to the reader?

:)

Thank you!

Hello anon, I can most certainly get that done for you when I have the time! Ms. Cynthia is always welcome in my inbox.

I don't know when I'll get into it? Idk I'm almost finished with the scarvio dlc girls and can have that up for valentines, so I'll get to work on it sometime after valentines.

[medicinemane]

.

[cazzyf1]

Interesting facts I learnt about Maria Teresa de Fillippis & Lella Lombardi from Motorsports Magazine: Italian Legends

Maria Teresa de Fillippis:

She originally started off racing horses

Her first car was a Fiat 500 which she raced when her brothers bet she couldn't be a fast driver

She won her first ever race in the Fiat

Her father inspired her to succeed in whatever she did and supported her racing, Her mum didn't object either as she was happy that Maria was winning

She never had any sponsors or managers as she came from a wealthy family and made her own decisions, took no orders.

She never raced for Ferrari because she didn't want Enzo Ferrari to try and control her - Maserati respected this

Fangio told her she drove too fast and needed to go slower

Fangio, Ascari & Villoresi were her hero's and they were always very good to her

On track she called Fangio her 'Race Father' because he treated her so well and she admired that

"The relationships within the team were influenced by the older drivers. They were all older than me so they would protect me from anything like that (people trying to romance her at the track) I could look after myself, you know, and when things became too intense or too vulgar then I would joke with them, make fun of them, and they would go away"

She was once courted by Luigi Musso

"She was admired not only for her beauty but her courage in a racing car. She had guts, and was respected by her fellow competitors. I thought it was absolutely great she was in Grand Prix racing"- Tony Brooks

Monaco was tough on her at the corners

She was known as 'pilotino' because she was the smallest person racing

A car was made for her but had so many delays that neither her, Hans Herrmann nor Wolfgang von Trips could get the car on the grid during qualifying. Stirling Moss advised her to not race that car anymore

She was due to race the car at AVUS but gave the car up to Jean Behra who's car it originally was and was without a car. He was killed at that race

After this De Filippis left the sport to focus on having a family and didn't return until 1973 to join the International des Anciens Pilotes de Grand Prix F1 club

She became the club's vice president in 1997 and made honorary president days before celebrating her 85th birthday

Lella Lombardi:

Robin Herd says the Nurburgring was Lella's best driver, not the time when she got half a point

She started off with Monzo-based Formula 875

Her partners name was Fiorenza

She did well in F3 and became Italian's Ford Escort Mexico Challenge Champion the same year, 1973

Jackie Epsteine ran a Formula 5000 team in the winter of 73 and was persuaded to let Lella try, and became impressed with her driving and technical knowledge like when she correctly pitted when realising the car was getting a puncture

She was nicknamed 'Tigress of Turin' though the place name is wrong

She had little trouble getting sponsors. She stayed in Italy and flew to each race and never asked for expenses.

"She was charming but stubborn and independent, and a tremendously careful road driver. I went with her from Snetterton to Norwich once: 30mph all the way. Painful. People were staring and peeping. She didn't care"

"She wasn't interested in fashion and usually wore trousers if she was in civvies. She had an image to keep; "I'm tough so don't mess with me" She was a loner, really. No entourage. She never brought a girlfriend"

"Her sex and sexuality were not topics of conversation in the paddock. She was judged purely as a racing driver"

"She wasn't a publicity seeker. BBC news came to her first test with us at Goodwood and she wanted to know why. That she was a woman was irrelevancy to Lella. She was a racing driver first and foremost" - Robin Herd

Lella would complain that her car was understeering badly in corners but Vittorio who tested the car out said it was fine. Only next year when Ronnie Peterson described the same handling with the car did they realise Lella had been correct

With Ronnie Person joining Lella was unfortunately let go from March

"Lella was the perfect co-driver. She was much more concerned by the settings than I was, great with the mechanics and very speedy. But she wanted me to be just as fast and was always giving me tips and help. She was passionate about racing. She was no interested in music, reading, culture or anything else. Just racing - and fishing" - Christine Beckers

"When asked in a press conference how she was coping with such a hefty car, she replied, "I don't have to carry it, I just have to drive it"

Lella felt she could have been rich and famous in America but her love for Italy made her stay there

She knew foreign people appreciated her but she wanted to be know in Italy

Lella knew of her breath cancer by 1985. She had hit her breast on a sailing trip and it hurt her a lot.

With her partner Fiorenza she was trying to create a team and find others to help her including Giusy Remondi

She used to sleep in her truck to save money for racing

"She and Fiorenza were a beautiful couple, reserved; the spotlight was never on them"

"Lella only complained about the inequality in Formula 1 - because nobody had listened to her about the changes for the car"

"On her deathbed she asked us to continue the team to preserve what she had achieved. We miss her passion, determination and modesty"

Lombardi checked into Milan's san Camillo Clinic in February 1992 and died on March 3rd, days short of her 51st Birthday

[axelsagewrites]

Roy Kent*Charitiy

Pairing: Roy Kent x reader

Word count: 1535

Warnings: Rupert existing and Roy being Roy

Masterlist here

Ever since last year when Rupert crashed annual charity ball and donated a butt load of money to steal her thunder, she was determined to make this year's even better. It was odd to you that someone donating so much to a good cause was grounds for revenge but then again, you'd met Rupert. He really was the worst. 

She'd gone all out this year, making sure she lined up at least 3 famous performers that equally hated Rupert and inviting everyone who was anyone. You were automatically on the list as her assistant but and also as Roy's plus one. It was at last year’s ball that Roy ended up walking you home from and kissing you in your doorway. Cut to this year and you were now in a semi-secret committed relationship with Richmond’s newest coach. You had both decided not to share to the press and after much convincing Roy let you tell Rebecca and the team.

One of the nights biggest earners was of course the charity auction. Roy had refused at least 19 times to do it but eventually with enough eyelash batting and promises of favours you'd convinced him to sign up. All the boys had signed up, even Will was forced to sign up.

To make things even more bizarre Rebecca herself was being auctioned. Though you as her assistant had also hired someone to come bid on her so she'd never have to have the date but still she was technically on the roster. What you hadn't expected was for her to turn to you with puppy dog eyes. 

"We need more women on the list. Cmon, you know how it is. Think of the children,"

Roy was more outrage you had said yes than the fact he had been convinced to do it as well. You however were sure that it would be fine. After all people were there to bet on the footballers to play a game with their kid or show off to their friends or whatever other questionable activities they had planned. Not some assistant. 

What you hadn't accounted for was that you were no longer just an assistant. Not only did you often appear in pictures with the team, but rumours floated around that you were dating at least one if not multiple of the boys. Between always being around famous footballers or the fact Keeley Jones was your best friend you’d forgotten people actually knew who you were now.

The night was fine to begin and halfway through the auction Rebecca had already hit the same record as last year but that was not going to stop her. Danni had gone for £5000, Sam for £6000, Keeley for £10,000. Yes, even Keeley had donated one of her Friday nights to Rebecca's cause.

Roy had practically begged you that if the old lady who won him last year was going to win that you steal the win and he'd give you the money so sure as fate you had just won a night with your boyfriend for £8000. This was only going to fuel the fires in the tabloids, but it was worth saving Roy another painful night with a toothless granny.

"Up next we have my dear, dear friend who many of you will recognise as the teams shadow. Come on up"(y/n)," Rebecca said, clapping as you walked up with an awkward smile.

" Can we start the bidding at £500?" You thought this would be over and done with in less than a couple minutes.

"Five thousand pounds," Ruperts voice came booming from the back of the room followed by the sound of Roy’s chair scrapping against the floor as he stood up, "Forgive me for being so late my dear Rebecca. A family emergency kept me away, but I couldn't miss this for the world," he said gesturing to the crowd who gave him a round of applause he didn’t deserve, “After all it is for the children,”

For once Rebecca stammered for words before finally stuttering out "Yes well thank you Rupert. Do I hear six?"

"Ten thousand," Roy boomed across the room. Small gasps left several tables as you stood, eyes bulging out at the moment happening. You’d got to witness the bidding war that went for Jamie last year with Keeley spending twenty-five grand, but you knew that both Rupert and Roy were far more stubborn. this could go for a while.

"This isn't how auctions exactly work boys-" Rebecca tried to cut in, knowing how stubborn Rupert was and how violent Roy could get, but to no avail. she looked at you with a sympathetic glance as the carnage began.

"fifteen thousand," Rupert said, walking to stand by Roy's table, his wife a few paces behind standing awkwardly. 

"twenty,"

"thirty,"

"thirty-five-" you heard Jamie's voice pipe up followed by a loud growl from Roy who was glaring daggers in the previously laughing boy, "withdrawn!" Jamie yelped as he shuffled his chair towards Keeley. you almost felt bad for Jamie as you tried not to laugh.

"forty-five," Roy yelled before turning to Rupert, whispering something in his ear as he went to say fifty.

You could practically see Ruperts sweat dripping down his forehead as Roy pulled away, a satisfied smirk on his face, "Hard to beat that," Rupert smiled as he carefully stepped away from Roy, slowly moving back to his wife, “I withdraw,” Rupert said before pulling his wife to go join some random table filled with old white men.

"Forty-five going once, twice," Rebecca said as she scrambled to grab her gavel, "sold to Mr Kent. What a generous donation, everyone let's give him a round of applause," Rebecca said as she started the claps as everyone followed suit to try mask the awkward tension. “Always such a generous soul,”

You gave Rebecca a sorry smile as you walked back down to Roy, wondering how you’d explain this to the tabloids, but Roy had other plans. As you walked up to him, ready to quietly thank him, Roy stepped forward, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his chest. The kiss was brief, but it knocked the wind out your lungs and left you wishing you had a private room as whoops and hollers came from the room around. You pulled back, breathless and grinning like an idiot. 

"Just to be clear that isn't included in the final sale," Rebecca said from the stand, trying to avoid lawsuits and trying desperately not to laugh since the auction still had its final prize left, Jamie.

"What did you say to him?" you asked, as you finally say back down, hand in hand with Roy. 

"I told him I knew where he lived and enough people to hold him down if he didn't back off what's mine, “Roy said as cool as a cucumber as if he didn't just threaten to beat a multi-millionaire, possibly billionaire at this point. "Plus, I said I'd tell his wife about you know who," 

This however caught your, Keeley’s, and Jamie's attention, "Who's you know who?" Keeley ask as you all three leaned in for the dirt. 

"Fuck knows," Roy barked making you all look at each other confused, "once a scumbag always a scumbag. There's probably some poor girl out there he’s fucked I just don't know which one," 

The three of you began to cackle as Rebecca announced her last prize of the night. “Time to shine,” Jamie said as he got up, running a hand through his hair before jogging up to join Rebecca on stage. His cocky joy went from pale faced terror when the woman who won Roy last year won him this year but for £9000. Jamie returned to the table, no pep in his step or swagger in his walk as he sunk down into his chair, “Why did you save me?” he whispered in betrayal.

“I’m not your girlfriend anymore, remember,” Keeley teased as she sat back in her chair, “Call us even for last year babes,”

Jamie turned from Keeley to you and Roy, looking like a kicked puppy, “Roy?”

“Mate I’ve just spent 50 grand tonight. go fuck yourself,” Roy said before what was left of his drink.

“It’s for children Roy,” Jamie said as he sulked back into his chair.

“Fuck the children,” Roy said with no hesitation, “I’ve just bought them a really fucking nice orphanage to stop some old prick touching my bird,”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how Jamie pouted in his seat, trying to avoid the old woman’s little waves. “You do release your little stunt means we need to do press now?” you said, glancing up to a now groaning Roy.

“Already on its babes,” Keeley said from where she sat on her phone, “I’ve been waiting for this for months. knew you two wouldn’t go for my soft launch option,”

“Fucks a soft launch?” Roy said, confusing racking his face as he turned to you.

you patted his arm and shook your head, “You just let me and Keels deal with this yeah?”

Roy sighed as he sat back in his chair shaking his head, “I fucking hate charity,”

[teriri-sayes]

TCF Modern AU Character Checklist (Official)

RIDI, one of the Korean publishers of TCF/LCF, recently released new ebook volumes for TCF. The volume set consisted of volumes 10-18, spanning chapters 201-398 of Part 1. And RIDI added a "Character Checklist" as the exclusive bonus content for buying the volume set.

What is this character checklist about? It's just a list of things that the characters are most likely to do or prefer. But it is set in a modern AU (alternate universe) setting.

Those who want to purchase official merchandise can head over to RIDI to buy the new ebooks. You can get a 10% discount and a 5000 won coupon if you participate in the event, so the cost for the new volume set will only be 24,160 won. But be aware that this is only in the Korean language. There is no official English ebook for TCF. 🥲

The new ebooks included new novel covers. For volumes 1 - 9, they changed the ebook cover to this:

And for volumes 10-18, the new ebook cover is this:

Because the character checklist is not publicly available for free, I will only post a quick summary of it.

***

Alberu 

likes to eat snacks while working

beautiful handwriting

celebrates others' birthdays grandly

frequent social media poster because of work

Beacrox 

makes tteok-galbi and gives it to Cale

2nd best at making snow ducks

Ron

makes travel plans because of the kids

good at claw machines

Bud 

world traveler who's good at driving any vehicle

frequent social media poster because he's an attention-seeker

Hilsman 

scared of bugs

Witira 

heavy drinker

troublemaker child because she couldn't control her strength

Eruhaben 

good singer of old songs but only does it upon the kids' request

picky appetite

doesn't use kiosks because he's not interested in learning anything new

On

great dancer

makes travel plans

knows the most about memes

Hong

makes travel plans

likes winter because of family get-togethers

frequent social media poster because he finds it exciting

good at drawing because everyone praised their drawings

posts memes

Raon

makes travel plans

prefers to play together than go on amusement park rides

likes winter because of family get-togethers

late sleeper because he always daydreams of going on trips with his family

good at drawing because everyone praised their drawings

Choi Han

stiff dancer

secretly prefers thrills in the amusement park

good at making snow ducks

student with low grades

Deruth

believes in fortune telling stuff but is in denial over it

Cale

somehow ends up as the leader in team projects

celebrates others' birthdays secretly

best fit as the leader of a K-pop boy group

buys lots of online books to read when he achieves slacker life

heavy reader

drinks hot Americano because Ron says cold drinks is bad for him

Mary

likes spicy food

likes horror movies

good at computers because Tasha taught her

Lock

first to apologize after getting into a fight

model student with good grades

Tasha

loves to eat meat

Archie

always grumbles on trips but shuts up when Cale stares at him

Toonka

bad at using machines and gadgets

Cage

prefers eating over studying

Rosalyn

drinks iced Americano in the morning

troublemaker child because she wanted to do lots of things

Jack

likes pineapple pizza

Hannah

likes mint chocolate and eats it together with Mary

***

Some trivia:

Mint chocolate in Korea is similar to pineapple pizza that people either heavily like or dislike.

Witira being a heavy drinker is a pun related to her race as a whale tribe. Sulgorae (술고래) is a figurative expression for a heavy drinker. It’s a combination of the words 술 (alcohol) and 고래 (whale). English has a similar expression to it - drink like a fish

Making snow ducks is a trend in Korea. They use plastic tongs with a duck mold to create snow ducks. Some treat is a game where you make dozens of it fast as if printing out items in a factory, and line it up in a row.

Tteok-galbi is grilled short rib patties. Hmm, delicious~! 😋

[etirabys]

Apologies if this is personal and you don't want to answer (or you don't want to answer for any other reason!); if that is the case no worries. But anyway by virtue of the fact that I am (sort of) a linguist I often get curious about people's language situation. You speak English obviously but spent your childhood in Korea, and often went to the English language book store while there? What is like, your personal linguistic history? Like, what language(s) did you grow up speaking, which ones did you learn later and when, etc? How fluent do you consider yourself in both English and Korean? If you don't mind my asking.

Haha, this is a dream scenario for me (someone asking about a situation I find fascinating about myself because I've never met anyone else with that background, but is probably boring to most people). Here's a longer story than you probably want:

My parents emigrated to the US before I was born, stayed for a decade, and moved back to Korea right after I was born. They're conversational in English, and my sister (12 years my elder) is fluent. Speaking English is valuable in Korea, so they raised me to be bilingual. They taught me the alphabet, bought me English language children's books, and sent me to an English language school run by Christian missionaries for preschool, kindergarten, and part of first grade.

My sister left the country when I was three to go to a boarding school in the US, but she came back every year for holidays, spoke exclusively in English to me, and refused to let the conversation move on if I mispronounced a word.

When I was six, my parents moved further away from the missionaries' school and switched me to a neighborhood public elementary school. At this point I was mildly more fluent in English than in Korean. Reading (English books) was a self-sustaining reaction I spent every free hour on. There were fewer interesting Korean books for children. Korea had industrialized ~30 years prior, and the hangeul writing system had only been in full use ~50 years at that point. As far as I knew, there was no CS Lewis of Korea, no Tolkien, no Diana Wynne Jones. In Korean bookstores, many of the prominent books on display were translated – The Little Prince was popular for children, and there was a children's fiction fad around another French author (who afaik never made a splash in the States) whose name I forget.

So I'm reading like 10 hours a day, at the dinner table, on the escalator when my mom takes me while she's shopping, sometimes under the desk at school flipping the pages with my toes, because the teachers don't care. (This is a huge W as far as I'm concerned for Korea – public school teaching is a somewhat competitive and standardized government job, it attracts people who lack great passion for either teaching or controlling children.) Meanwhile my peers don't like me much because my vibes are rancid: I have a compulsive laugh tic I haven't gotten under control, and I don't seem to understand their preferences very well or actively seek to understand them. Fair enough. I have one friend at any given time and she's usually on the fence about me.

When I'm old enough to take the train on my own, some weekends my mom gives me 5000 won for the train ticket + lunch, and I go into Seoul to visit one bookstore that has a 10-shelf English section. I pick a book, spend the day finishing it, and go home. Instead of my English language skills lapsing and being overtaken by the language I'm immersed in, I'm going deeper into English. Which increased the disconnect between me and my peers. I remember overhearing a conversation about an anime (The Black Cat) and eagerly asking if they'd also read the Edgar Allen Poe short story. I wanted to much to talk about shared interests, but it didn't occur to me to "invite myself into their interests" by picking up the manga they talked about.

...this all made my childhood weird in ways that have shaped me hugely but are difficult to describe. I was isolated and not, happy and not, stimulated and not, developing unevenly...

At eleven I discover fanfiction.net, probably one of the most impactful events of my life. I'm running out of physical books, I've read everything five or ten times, but then the computer! has made a deal with me! It contains INFINITE LITERATURE, although sometimes people seemed to misspell things on purpose and I didn't know why. (I had, approximately, never encountered misspellings in written material before.) In return the internet would take MY SOUL FOREVER although I didn't realize this at the time. I post a 100K Harry Potter epic over the next year where Harry is trained by a special assassin cult that lives under a mountain.

My parents have no idea what is on the internet. They're on a new temporal continent with no clue there's a parasite that can turn your daughter into a fujoshi. They do know that they have a worrying child. But! Her grades are really good, especially when she's testing in English. Good enough that although they originally intended not to send me to the US (my sister got depressed and burned out, and they attributed it to sending her to a different country for school), it made much more sense for me to go. I was on track to get a full ride at an Ivy, a carrot they were Not Immune to, and I obviously despised Korea and wanted to leave.

When I arrived in the States, I was terrified of speaking English to real native speakers. My language experience was "reading/writing: 95% English, speaking/listening: 90% Korean". I could perfectly pronounce any English sentence when I tried, but I'd occasionally and bizarrely mix up R and L, or the vowel sounds "ih" and "eeh" if I weren't paying attention. This went away after a year but I felt extra shy and didn't talk much. I'd guess 80% of my social cachet in freshman year came from writing funny Facebook posts.

I remember my time in Korea without feeling bothered by any single aspect, but overall I still have a big sense of "wow I didn't like that", have avoided non-Americanized Korean people since getting here (ten years ago), and now speak Korean haltingly. I'll try to teach it to my children so that they have the option of that cultural connection, but I don't think I can do a good job. It's feels 90% true thinking/speaking Korean is just a normal skill, a thing I do sometimes on the phone – and 10% true that the happier and more whole I become in the US, the more unsettling it feels to speak Korean at all.

[oneknightstand-if]

Adrian Regretting Some of His Choices in Life

Regretting them indeed considering that "Adrian bunking with Crush!MC who has a bad habit of stripping in their sleep" won the poll for the 1000 followers drabble.

So here's a highly relevant preview of the first part of the next update. I thought this part of the update would only take a few days... max 5000 words. Meanwhile 70,000+ words later...

[tutuandscoot]

I felt like reblogging this coz there’s been some “”new”” info in the last little bit and I have to say I stand by all of this. It was platonic. It was full of love. It was mutual, and one of the most beautiful things about it was they made a choice to never jeopardise this beautiful bond built on trust, communication, care, and artistic exploration by trying to make it something they didn’t need in order love each other exactly how they needed to. That is eye wateringly beautiful and offers a new way of thinking about the most important relationships in our lives, what really matters and how we care for one another. I say it all the time but they really are just extraordinary human beings.

The Question of ‘Love’

Q: Do I want TS to be a couple irl

A: No

Q: Do I think they at one time they ever were a couple/dated/more than “platonic”

A: No

Those were the short answers. Settle in for the long ones below.

I have my opinions on the whole ‘relationship’ thing. Although it’s not really my opinion because I take what they say as the truth- because I respect them and the fact they are so genuine there’s no reason to believe they lie about anything. Lying is different from not saying certain things. Concealing information from the public is not lying. It’s them having their own private lives which they deserve and none of us have any right to know.

But I’ve been thinking. As we all know, their chemistry is undeniable. It’s almost scary. I get people in my life to watch them, and maybe not initially, but a few programs in they will say themselves how unnerving it is that two people who aren’t involved can have this much of a believable, genuine connection. A lot of these people in my life are dancers/ex-dancers or people who have been in the dance/PA community- so initially they just see what good dancers they are- they view it professionally and athletically. Then they begin to notice the difference between other ‘good’ teams and them. And it’s the fact that we feel like we shouldn’t be watching, that it seems very private. They truly dance like no one is watching- and they are the only instance where I’ve ever felt that statement to be true.

So why is it? Why are they so convincing? Why does it seem so real, and why do we all have our hearts out bleeding on the floor for them to be together and live a perfect life? Why isn’t it the way we wish it would be?

Keep reading

[ladykailitha]

Steddie brain strikes again!

This time with Steve as a former Survivor style competition winner (he auditioned on a dare from Robin) who sued the production company for defamation of character when the show came out and it was edited to make Steve appear mean and bitchy, when the reality was that everyone else in the cast said that he was kind, helpful, and just a joy to be around. And won. (Steve didn’t know it at the time, but Tommy was the reason he got on the show and had been expecting King Steve from high school and instead got Kind Steve and forced the edits [he got fired after the lawsuit]).

Eddie is a rockstar (of course) and head of Corroded Coffin. The band sells out stadiums but likes to do inimate venues like bars and clubs because it gives them a chance to interact with the their fans.

Steve is one of these fans. And goes to a bar concert dressed as he always does. Tight blue jeans and a polo. And he gets to the front of the line to have Eddie (it’s rare to get a signature from the rest of the band, they hate it) sign a vinyl of his favorite record the band did and Eddie greets him cheerfully, asks for his name. Steve refuses to give it because people might not recognize him any more they sure the hell recognize the name. So he just tells him to address it to Eddie’s biggest fan. Eddie does so but senses that some thing is off and asks what wrong. That’s when Steve tell him that he was told he was a fake fan and couldn’t be there for Corroded Coffin. That he must have wandered off the street or something.

Eddie tells him that he doesn’t care what his fans look like as long as they enjoy their music. And tells him to enjoy the show. Steve nods.

After the signing, Eddie goes back to the green room and talks about the polo guy only for Jeff to tell him who Steve is and Eddie is gutted. And completely understands now why he was so reluctant to give out his name. Gareth then tells him that he was pretty sure that Steve left as he didn’t see anyone like that when he went to go grab something from the tour bus.

Eddie is pissed. He goes out on stage and starts one of his rants. He’s famous for them. About how forced conformity works the other way, too. Just because a fan doesn’t look like a metalhead doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy the music. Besides there was no way for them to know why the fan had dressed that way. He could have come straight from work. He could have a home life that makes it hard for him to dress that way, whatever that may look like. Or that could be what the fan likes to wear.

Most of the fans are feeling properly chastised. But there was an asshole close to the front that calls out “Yeah what are you going to do about it?”

“This!” and Eddie walks off the stage.

The crowd is shocked. Eddie Munson just walked away from a concert. Something that had never happened before. Jeff steps up to the mic and says “I’m with him. Free refunds for everyone but that dude. I have your picture on my phone, don’t even try it.”

Then Gareth and Brian look at each and nod. They walk off stage too.

Eddie’s not an ass, he knows he just cost the bar owner a shit ton of money so he goes and finds out how much he’d lose and then cuts him a $5000 check to cover any damage if the crowd riots and they pack up and leave.

The next day Robin comes over screaming about the show Steve was supposed to go to last night. And shows him the video and he turns to her and tells her it’s about him. And tells her what happened last night.

And of course Eddie reaches out and they fall in love.

[starsreminisce]

LucienWeek2024 Day Three Daylight

Clarity

Word Count: 5000 Rating: T @lucienweekofficial

Summary:

It had been a century since Lucien Vanserra went into exile for the uprising he caused against his father and eldest brother. Now, it's his brother's turn as he extends an invitation to the Day Court Equinox Ball, where his mate, whom he has not seen while in exile, will be.

Read on AO3

It had been a century since Lucien the Usurper launched his coup against High Lord Beron, ending centuries of tyranny.

When the magic of the land bypassed Lucien to crown his older brother, Eris, as the new High Lord, revolts began to stir. Many claimed Eris would be no different from Beron, that the change was only in name. The return of the Seventh Son from exile was supposed to breathe in new life, but doubt crept within their citizens.

Determined to take the seat of power himself, True Lord Lucien challenged his brother to a Blood Duel. Eris won, but in the final moment, chose to show mercy. Instead of killing Lucien the Betrayer, he banished him—to never set foot on Prythian unless he deems it so.

Yet, as the sons of Orla were taught, truth and lies always intertwined.

The coup had taken place, but it was only half-executed. Eris and Rhys were still in the midst of planning how Rhys would fulfill his end of the bargain when Lucien winnowed in, intending to resign. Both older brothers seized the unexpected opportunity. The Blood Duel? Staged. It was no different from the countless duels their father had forced them into as boys.

As for the exile? It was nothing more than a small patch of land—situated between the Autumn, Summer, and Spring Courts—gifted to Lucien by Eris as a token of reward.

Lucien would be remembered in history as the first fae to kill a High Lord and not claim a title. But in truth, he never sought the Lordship for himself. Never wanted it to begin with. Yet none of that mattered to him when he looked back on that day.

No, for Lucien, that day was burned into his memory for an entirely different reason: the day his mate rejected him.

It had been a month since he’d seen her in the streets of Velaris. What he witnessed had gnawed at him, day after day, until the need for answers became unbearable. When he finally confronted her, demanded the truth, she could not speak. Her face turned pale, almost green, as she stood there in silence.

“Lady,” he had said, his voice edged with exhaustion and hurt. “Just… reject it. If you care for me at all, just say it.”

Perhaps he had hoped she would argue, would deny what he had seen, or offer some explanation that might soften the blow. But instead, she closed her eyes. Silent tears traced down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook with the weight of her decision.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if seeking his permission. “Okay.”

Lucien had been angry before, but this was something different—something darker, older, and deadlier taking root within him. Heat rose in him at the thought of Elain rejecting their bond, the connection that had haunted him, that he had hoped would someday mean something. In the back of his mind, a warning flared—he worried, even now, about what he might become if he let this anger consume him.

“A bargain,” he forced himself to say, fighting to keep his voice steady. “You do not see me. You do not seek me. You do not ask about me. I will extend the same to you.”

“Lucien,” she murmured, her tone turning soft, almost conciliatory. “I am still a seer.”

He scoffed. “You haven’t had a vision since Hybern.”

“I cannot accept that bargain,” Elain said, her gaze meeting his, defiant even through her tears. “If you appear in my vision and I can’t see you…”

He stared at her, jaw clenched. “Fine. Unless you receive a vision that specifically involves me, you will have no reason to reach out.”

She chewed her lip, considering, then nodded. “I accept.”

A faint mark appeared on the backs of their hands, sealing the bargain—a mocking reminder that even rejected bonds could leave scars.

With nothing left to say, Lucien turned and left, intent on finding Rhysand to hand in his resignation. His thoughts spiraled between anger and heartbreak, but when he entered the room, he was surprised to find Eris there, pressing Rhys about what he intended to do about the bargain.

The tension in the room spiked as Lucien entered, his bloodlust evident in the fury radiating off him. Both males turned to him, their expressions sharpening.

“I want to resign as emissary for the Night Court,” Lucien said, his voice steady but laced with rage.

Rhys’s shadows flickered, a claw scraping gently at the edge of Lucien’s mind. Lucien didn’t resist, allowing his High Lord to peer into his thoughts, letting him see exactly what he and Elain had done. Rhys’s eyes widened, then narrowed, darkening with understanding.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Rhys purred, a deadly edge to his tone. “Eris has a pesky Beron problem.”

Eris’s expression remained impassive, but there was a glint of something dangerous in his gaze.

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “Give me an opening—and make sure she rejects it.”

“I’ll see to it that she rejects it tonight,” Rhysand promised, his tone laced with deadly intent toward the one who had driven Elain to reject their bond. Lucien met his High Lord’s gaze, understanding the fury there, even as his own heart shattered.

They had mere hours to coordinate. And when the night descended, they would be ready.

The tears they thought he shed that night had been for his father. But they weren’t. They were for Elain.

When the rejection came, it struck like a final, devastating blow. And in the hollow ache left behind, Lucien unleashed everything he’d held back, pouring his heartbreak and fury into a blazing assault upon his father and the Autumn Court. His power tore through the land, searing everything in its path.

That night, as word spread of the Seventh Son’s retribution—of the fire and blood he unleashed upon his father’s court—Lucien’s name became etched into history. No longer remembered as a loyal emissary, but as an unstoppable force of vengeance, a reckoning that could not be tamed.

—

The days were quiet and peaceful, just as Lucien had once hoped. He lived simply now, even in the absence of Jesminda by his side. He closed his eyes, clinging to her name as if it were a lifeline, though her face had slowly eroded from his memory since the bond with Elain had snapped. No, that bond—fragile as it was—remained a flickering flame, one that refused to die. Sometimes, he could feel Elain’s euphoria, especially in the beginning, when she’d chosen a relationship over their bond. And afterward, the wrenching heartache when that relationship ended.

He didn’t know the details, and perhaps it was better that way. He could pretend not to care, but there were moments—when her sadness pressed into him, or her loneliness crept in—that he was tempted to check on her. Instead, he buried himself in his role as laird over the tiny patch of land Eris had given him.

Gone were the days of political maneuvering, double-crossing, and scheming. He might have once thrived in that world, but now, he found he did not miss it. In truth, everything he had ever wanted was here.

Lucien had taken a hands-on approach to his land—helping with farming, overseeing repairs, settling disputes among his tenants. They were glamoured to forget who he was the moment they stepped beyond the borders. He still trained with weapons, but it felt different now—calmer, without the weight of constant conflict.

Eris and Rhys had upheld their end of the bargain for helping to end Beron’s reign, leaving Lucien in his quiet exile.

Not even a year after Beron’s death, his mother, Orla, had shocked everyone by celebrating her mating ceremony with Helion. Lucien had been surprised, to say the least, considering Helion’s deep-seated hatred for Beron—and, by extension, for Lucien himself. The Mother indeed had a sense of humor.

But Lucien didn’t attend the ceremony.

Nor did he attend the birth of his two half-brothers, Kieran and Roshan. Still, he was happy for his mother, relieved that she no longer mourned the two sons he had caused her to lose.

Those who knew the truth of the uprising—Feyre, Cassian, Rhys—visited him occasionally, but the visits became shorter and less frequent as time passed. Lucien had stopped accepting their invitations to visit the Night Court, and he wasn’t sure what else there was to say between them anymore.

As for Vassa and Jurian, they were long gone, their children’s children now ruling in their place.

The one puzzle Lucien couldn’t solve was why his heir markers remained so prevalent. He had hoped they would vanish after he forfeited his claim to any court, but instead, they seemed to grow stronger over time. In the end, he found a glamour to hide them almost permanently, to the point where he almost forgot they existed.

He was content. Or at least, as content as someone with a rejected bond could be.

Until he saw the smokehounds.

The sleek, lean dog-like creatures lingered near his house one evening as Lucien returned from the fields. There was no mistaking who owns them—Eris. Lucien gritted his teeth but played the host regardless, inviting his brother to dine with his tenants, who gawked that the benevolent High Lord was joining them. The evening stretched on, filled with the bard’s music and the low hum of conversation, until the candles burned low and the shadows thickened. Finally, Eris turned to him with a smile, his eyes gleaming with something Lucien couldn’t quite read.

“The Day Court is hosting the Equinox Ball,” Eris announced, his tone casual, almost too casual. “Mother would like you to attend.”

Lucien raised a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Not sure I can still be considered ‘exiled’ if I show up at a ball. I’m supposed to be on the continent, remember?”

Eris waved a dismissive hand. “Helion can grant you access as his guest—or, if it’s easier, I could always revoke your exile.”

Lucien narrowed his eyes, watching his brother closely. A century had passed since he had last set foot in any court, but even after all that time, he could still sense when Eris was hiding something.

Eris caught the look and sighed. “You left the courts. There isn’t anything I can tell you that matters anymore.”

“Then why is it so important that I’m there?” Lucien asked, his voice sharp. “I see Mother often enough, and quite frankly, the sight of her with Helion is... disturbing.”

He shuddered for emphasis, but Eris merely smirked.

“It’s nice, seeing Mother finally in love,” Eris replied, his voice softening, eyes distant, as if lost in some wistful memory.

Lucien held his tongue. Of course Eris would remember their mother’s brighter days—when she was full of light and laughter. Lucien, though, had only seen her at her lowest: withdrawn, broken. His only memories were the late nights when she would creep into his room, hugging him tightly, her tears soaking his forehead after days of ignoring him.

“I suppose,” Lucien finally muttered, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth.

A silence stretched between them. Finally, Eris rose from his seat and reached into his coat. He pulled out a small envelope, sealed with the Day Court’s bright insignia, and extended it to Lucien.

Lucien hesitated before reaching for the invitation, his fingers brushing against the crisp paper. But the moment he touched it, a subtle shift rippled through him—a familiar, long-forgotten sensation. His eyes darted to the back of his hand, and his heart skipped a beat.

The mark. The faint mark that had once bound him to Elain, a constant reminder of their rejected bond and the bargain they had made—gone.

The realization hit him like a wave. The bargain had ended.

Elain could now speak to him.

For the first time in decades, Lucien felt something stir deep inside him, something restless and unresolved. He glanced up at Eris, who wore the same unreadable smile, as if he had known this would happen all along.

“I’ll think about it,” Lucien said quietly, his voice steady, though his mind was anything but.

—

Even though Lucien arrived fashionably late as he could, he could still feel the weight of their stares and the hushed whispers that trailed behind him. The Usurper. The High Lord Killer. The labels clung to him, but none of it compared to the sharp jolt in his chest when his gaze swept across the grand ballroom. Beneath the twinkling fae lanterns and a ceiling draped in purple wisteria, amidst the glittering partygoers in their silks and brocades, he spotted her instantly.

Elain, standing with her sisters.

She always looked radiant in amethyst. Tonight, the rhinestone-heavy bodice of her gown sparkled under the warm glow of the lanterns. The sweetheart neckline framed her delicate collarbones, and the dress cinched tightly at her waist before cascading into an elegant A-line. Her hair was pinned up, dotted with pearls that glistened like stars.

He hadn’t seen her in a century, he realized. The last time they spoke, she had cried then.

But now—she was smiling, a breathtaking sight that twisted in his chest. Lucien forced himself to turn away, not wanting the familiar ache of longing to show on his face. He hadn’t come here to be reminded of what he could never have. He only meant to make an appearance, speak to his mother, have two drinks and leave. Already, the walls of the ballroom felt too close, the urge to disappear back to his quiet life called to him.

He stalked towards his mother and Helion, weaving his way through the crowd. The two of them were too preoccupied with their smoldering looks to notice him at first. Lucien cleared his throat. Helion still regarded him with that cool, aloof expression. 

Don’t worry, daddy, Lucien thought bitterly, I’m not here to kill you.

But his mother, Orla, lit up when she saw him, immediately pulling him into a doting embrace, her lips pressing against his cheeks.

“Darling,” she cooed, her tone warm and affectionate. “You made it! Are you planning to stay here for the night?”

“No, Mother,” Lucien replied. “I wish I could stay, but I’ve got repairs to handle back in my land. The last storm knocked out half the fence, and if I don’t fix it soon, the livestock will be running wild.”

Orla pouted. “But we so rarely get to see you.”

Helion’s voice cut in, sharp and commanding, exactly like Rhys when someone displeased Feyre. “Your mother would like you to stay.”

Lucien met Helion’s gaze evenly, resisting the urge to snap back. A retort burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it, forcing his face into a sarcastic smile. “We’ll see.”

Helion mimicked his smile, but colder. “See to it.”

Lucien, not one to let the jab pass, raised an eyebrow and asked, “Has Kieran or Roshan shown any heir markers yet?”

The question landed as intended. Helion gave a curt response. “No.”

Lucien’s smirk widened. The insult was subtle but sharp—a reminder that, despite Helion’s status, the magic of their court had not deemed his children worthy to lead. But it was Orla who delivered the next blow.

“Elain wouldn’t mind if you stayed,” Orla remarked offhandedly, as though she were discussing the weather. “She’s been such a wonderful courtier for the Day Court.”

Lucien’s smile dropped, his face stiffening into a frown. “Why.”

“She needed some time away from the Night Court after… well, after everything,” Orla explained, her gaze flitting around the room. “Poor thing. Rhysand and Feyre thought a change of scenery might do her good, so I offered to take her in.”

Lucien’s lips pressed into a tight line. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Elain being so close to his family in the decades he had been apart. He tried to remind himself that his mother had gained something of a daughter after losing another son. Still, the idea of Elain sharing this space with them—of her integrating so seamlessly into the Day Court—prickled at him.

“Let’s see how the night goes,” Lucien replied reluctantly, the urge to find something to relieve him of this conversation.

He turned away, eager to put distance between himself and the interaction. But as he moved through the crowd, he could feel the bond tugging. He glanced over his shoulder, and his heart stopped when his eyes met Elain again.

Her gaze locked onto his, wide and unblinking, as if she’d been watching him. The lively chatter around them muted, the music fading into the background. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Something unreadable flickered in her countenance—surprise, guilt, or perhaps something more.

Lucien’s chest tightened. He couldn’t tell if she’d been waiting for him to notice, or if she, too, was startled by their shared glance. But the weight of it settled deep, cutting through the air between them like a taut string waiting to snap.

He broke the spell and strode toward the bar, ordering the specialty without much thought, the thrum of tension still lingering in his veins. His eyes roamed the room as he waited, scanning what had changed since he’d left. The Night Court kept to their tight-knit circle, as usual, but now with two new females among them. He could feel their gazes shift to him.

They’ll find me eventually, he mused, if I decide to stay long.

Something else caught his attention this time. Each member of the circle seemed tethered by a golden thread—mating bonds, he realized. This time, his attention was drawn to something else. The detail made him furrow his brows, leaving him to ponder how and when it happened.

Lucien’s jaw clenched, and his gaze slid to Elain. She was across the room, a vision as she floated through the courtiers, laughing with Nuan of all people, as if she’d known her her entire life. She sparked the damned longing within him, but before he could get sucked into that vortex—

A shift in the air.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. His mechanical eye whirred, the lens automatically adjusting, recalibrating as it scanned the room for danger. Everything appeared normal. No one else seemed to notice. Yet Lucien knew better —he felt it, deep in his gut from instincts honed from hunting.

He glanced up.

His eye zeroed in on the ceiling. Something off. His eye broke through the marble surface, seeing beyond it—into something more sinister.

And then the ceiling gave way.

A thunderous crack, huge pieces of stone plummeting toward the floor, but by the time they began to fall, Lucien had already moved. His body reacted before his mind could, and in the course of a moment, he was across the room. His arms wrapped tightly around Elain, pulling her tightly against his chest. His eyes screwed shut in protection against the dust and debris.

“Lucien,” Elain said, her soft voice close that it tickled his ear.

He opened his eyes—and blinked in disbelief. Golden light surrounded them, a shimmering sphere holding the falling debris at bay. A shield of daylight, radiant and warm, encased them in safety. His glamour dissolved, his skin now glowing with a pearlescent bronze sheen, and molten red hair cascaded over his shoulders. Inside him, a core of heat burned brighter, brighter than it had ever felt before, protecting the one thing that was ever his.

“Are you alright?” he asked, still holding her close.

Elain nodded, but her wide eyes remained fixed on him, her breath catching as she took in the soft glow of the golden light that surrounded them.

“An attack!” someone shouted, but Lucien’s focus stayed locked on the glowing shield. Through the sphere, he saw them—thousands of bird-like shadows, clawing at the edges, desperate to break through.

He didn’t want to let Elain go. His instincts screamed that it wasn’t safe. But the way she held him back—the way her eyes searched his face as if seeing him for the first time—made him hesitate. She wasn’t afraid of him. Her gaze was filled with wonder.

The shield expanded, stretching outward with Lucien’s will until it touched the crumbling ceiling. And then, with a soft pop, the bubble dissolved, transforming into tiny golden flames that licked through the air, disintegrating the debris and creatures in an instant as golden dust fell.

Elain whispered. “So it is you.”

“What?” Lucien asked, still disoriented.

“You are the Day Court heir.”

Lucien’s stomach churned as reality crashed down around him. His heart pounded in his chest, louder than the stunned silence that had settled over the ballroom. He tore his gaze from Elain and looked around.

The entire room had frozen. Every fae in attendance—guests, courtiers, High Lords and their partners alike—stared at him.

At him.

No. His mind raced, grasping at something, anything, to make sense of this. This couldn’t be happening.

Eris was the heir. Lucien was of Autumn Court. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—be the Day Court heir. Because if he was, that would mean…

His breath hitched. That would mean Beron wasn’t his father.

Before Lucien could fully process the thought, Helion stepped forward, his eyes wide with shock and begrudging recognition.

“The Day Court heir has been found,” Helion’s voice boomed with command. His gaze flicked between Orla and Lucien. “Lucien Vanserra is the Day Court heir.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but Lucien barely heard it. His heart stuttered. His world tilted. Oh, fuck.

Helion had just legitimized him.

The weight of what that meant pressed down on him, suffocating. Panic clawed at his chest, each new realization crashing into him. The responsibilities. The title. The Court. The political alliances he’d left behind. His place beside Helion—no, at the head of the Day Court.

And Elain.

The closeness to her that would come with this new role. The proximity he could no longer ignore, no matter how hard he had tried.

His mind spiraled, and in that moment of pure panic, he did the dumbest thing possible.

He released Elain and spun around, only to find himself trapped—shimmering wards pulsed around him, thrumming with Helion’s magic, a cage of blazing power.

A rush of heat exploded from him, brilliant and blinding, tearing through the wards and spells encasing the room. It was Helion’s power, but fiercer, sharper, channeled with raw, unrestrained force through Lucien. And then, before anyone could react, he winnowed, disappearing in a blaze of light and heat.

But when he landed—back on the edge of his quiet farm—something was wrong.

He felt her before he saw her, the warmth of her body pressed against his back. Her arms clung tightly around his waist, her breath shallow between his shoulder blades.

She hadn’t let go.

Lucien’s heart stuttered as truth set in. He had let her go. He’d tried to leave her behind. But she—she hadn’t released him. She had chosen to hold on, even as his world fell apart around them.

He stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing to process what had just happened. The rows of crops lay stretched out beneath the moonlit sky, his patch of land quiet and serene—a meager fraction to the truth he had just uncovered about his birthright.

“Lady…” he whispered hoarsely, half-questioning, half-apologizing.

Slowly, she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “You are very hard to find,” she whispered, her grip still firm. “Had to find a way to get you to come.”

His throat constricted as he stared at her, the weight of her words-and all those words implied-settling between them like a loaded question.

He had winnowed to escape.

Yet she had held on.

—

“So you knew?” Lucien’s voice emerged sharper than he intended.

He wasn’t used to his patience being tested like this—especially not by her. Yet here she was, wandering around his property, deliberately ignoring his pointed offers to take her back. It annoyed him. He followed her as she headed toward the house, her gaze wandering over everything, taking in small details of the life he’d built in exile.

She wheeled abruptly on him, her wrist flicking so the back of her hand flashed in his direction. “I was wondering when you’d finally ask around about this.”

Lucien pressed his tongue against his cheek. He refused to rise to the bait.

“You really didn’t notice,” Elain sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lucien didn’t say a word, but his silence spoke volumes. Of course, he had noticed—the mark gone—when the invitation had arrived… a day or two ago.…

“So much has passed in a hundred years,” Elain whispered, her arms wrapping tightly around herself.

It was then that he felt it: their bond flickered. No longer as dull, not as hushed as it had been for so long. His heart was hammering in his chest, and she turned pink as her eyes darted away from him.

It was too much—too much to process all at once, with everything else hanging over his head. The responsibilities of an heir weighed upon him like a boulder, and the events of the night were catching up, threatening to crush him.

“I’m going to bed,” Lucien said shortly, the tone a full stop. “If you wish to stay, there’s a spare bedroom upstairs on the left. If not, you’ll find sheets on my desk to send a message. Good night.”

He turned on his heel, ready to leave her standing there, but her voice stopped him cold.

“We ruled the Day Court.”

Lucien froze. Slowly, he turned back to face her. “We?”

Elain shut her eyes a moment, as though steeling herself. When she opened them again, her voice was firm, but low. “You and me. That was the vision.”

Lucien’s snort was harsh, filled with skepticism. “What, as separate rulers or—”

“No.” Her voice cut him off, sharper now, her patience visibly thinning. “Not separate. And that doesn’t explain…” She hesitated, her cheeks flushing as she looked away, clearly struggling to find the right words.

“Explain what, lady?” he demanded, his tone clipped, irritation simmering beneath the surface.

She pressed her lips together, her eyes flicking away, looking both frustrated and mortified. Lucien raised an eyebrow, watching her struggle, his own annoyance flaring. He’d had enough of vague half-answers and the way she seemed to dance around the truth.

She took a breath, forcing herself to continue. “It doesn’t explain… the amount of sex we had in that vision. Or the children… who looked like you and me.”

Lucien stilled, his eyes blinking as the meaning of her words registered. He stared, and then a laugh escaped him—deep and disbelieving. He snorted, his head shaking, as laughter bubbled up from his chest.

But Elain wasn’t laughing. She didn’t look at him, her face red as her lips pursed into a thin line. And that was when it hit him—she wasn’t joking.

“You rejected it, remember?” His tone was bitter and confused. “You rejected the bond, my lady.”

There was a flash of anger in Elain’s eyes, no longer the timid female he remembered. She scowled at him as she shot back, “As Orla did with Helion when you were born.”

Lucien blinked, momentarily stunned by the comparison. Elain stood taller, her shoulders squared, no longer shrinking under his gaze. The fierceness in Elain’s eyes caught him off guard—a spark of shock mixed with something raw, something he couldn’t quite grasp.

It reminded him, just for a moment, of Jesminda—alive and bright in her defiance, a fading memory that still lingered painfully close to the surface.

His mother. Mated to Helion. Long before Lucien killed Beron.

Elain. Looking like Jesminda. Long after she was gone.

He took a steadying breath, forcing himself to set those revelations aside—things to confront later, with the people who held the answers. But what did any of that mean for him and Elain?

“So, what?” Lucien demanded, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. “You had a vision, and that’s why you’re here now? That’s what changed your mind about giving this—” he gestured between them, “—a shot?”

“No,” Elain said softly, the sharpness yielding to something much softer as she looked down, exhaling heavily. “No. The vision happened after.”

“After what?” he pressed hotly.

She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, as if trying to shield herself from his words, her gaze dropping to the ground. It was her posture—the way she seemed to shrink into herself—that cut through his frustration, softening his resolve. And then the weight of her silence settled between them like a chasm.

Unable to hold back, he did the unthinkable: he took a step closer, closing the distance until there was barely any space left between them.

“After what?” he coaxed gently, his voice low, trying to draw her out.

Elain’s eyes flickered up, meeting his. Her face was raw, unguarded, and she swallowed hard before she spoke. “After I fell in love with the Day Court.” Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a vulnerability he hadn’t expected. “Until I realized… how much I saw you in it.”

Lucien stared, the words clawing through the walls he’d built around his heart. For a very long moment, he said nothing. There was nothing to say. The truth hovered between them, weak and throbbing.

And for the first time in a hundred years, he couldn’t look away from the bond between them—the hum of it, a pulse stronger than it had ever been.

[xiaoddexingjiutang]

02. Elita: Fake Cigarettes, Fake Alcohol, Fake Friends

When they were heading down to the mines, Elita was the foreman, making her coworkers flatter her. She even said that the workers should feel honored by her promotion: "If you all work hard, I can get promoted." A sharp critique from a 30-year workplace veteran: "It's not like I'm the one getting promoted; what's there to feel honored about?" Elita's character wouldn't fool anyone who's worked even a single day; she's essentially a traitor to worker class.

When a production accident led to her demotion, neither Orion nor D-16 bothered to check on her; they just went off to prepare for the next day's Iacon 5000 race. Later, while she was returning to the surface, she even planned to capture the other three, reporting them as political criminals to get them downgraded.

The people responsible for editing and releasing the trailers for this film are downright malicious. They artificially created a sense of family harmony, making the main quartet seem like a group of good friends. But after sitting in the cinema and seeing the real plot, my only thought was: "What kind of friends are these? Have you ever once stood firmly by each other's side, or did you just become docile after going through hardships together during your adventure?"

After a series of chaotic events where they learned the truth and obtained the cogs, D-16 and Bumblebee got captured, just to give she and Orion some one-on-one time. She comforted the disheartened Orion, taking the opportunity to invest in the official Oplita pairing while Orion is undervalued: "Although I'm better than you in every way, but..."

Orion had to smile tolerantly: "This is your first time comforting someone, isn't it?"

This film is filled with clichés from mass-produced Japanese anime. The main team consists of Orion, an overly optimistic protagonist who pretends to be naive but is highly proactive, dragging others to do this and that. Then there's second male lead D-16, who's overflowing with negative energy, constantly complaining and nitpicking. There's also a tsundere girl, Elita, who arrogantly spouts off to forcefully fit into the tsundere trope. And then there's the comedic boy, Bumblebee.

When uniting with the High Guards, everyone was noisy. She casually slapped Shockwave across the face and even gave him a nickname afterward. May I ask, what's that about? Shockwave is too good-tempered; I support his freedom to slap back.

In the end, Optimus Prime won, and she happily asked him for the position of commander. Before this, they had to play out the "strong male, weak female" trope. The newly promoted leader Optimus said to Elita, "Aren't you better than me in every way?" Elita hesitated. It's as if the screenwriters are well-versed in the Elita fandom: Elita has to be perfect, stronger than Optimus, but when it's time to step back and let the man lead, she sensibly steps aside.

[sscarletvenus]

some lookism childhood headcanons 

i imagine hyungseok as one of those really cute kids that resemble marshmallows. he's just so soft and round and giggles when you pick him up and spin him around!!! his mom would take him to work with her and her coworkers would give him all sorts of snacks and pocket money. he's like a bouncing ball of pure sunshine.

johan as a kid would be extremely intrigued with religious imagery. he would often try to memorise the architecture of the church his mother takes him to, and then try to draw them when he's bored. 

i also imagine that johan's an amazing artist, and the god dog logo is his own design. when he was small, johan would always want to participate in art competitions, but art supplies are a luxury so he gives up on that desire pretty fast. he conveys the same to his mom, who praises him for being a sensible child as johan sniffles on her shoulder against a tattered cardigan that smells like home.

samuel was always too little for his age, and never managed to eat until he was full. either his mom would scream at him for being within her sight for too long, or he would lose his appetite seeing her face. 

he watches his mom's TV soaps from a corner and sees everyone being nice to the handsome and capable male lead, and starts believing that people only care for what they cannot have. so, he too, will become someone unattainable by everyone.

samuel is too angry for someone that scrawny, so the seniors always beat him to pulp. but, he never cries. instead, if the other boys would listen closely, they would hear him mutter under his breath, "i am gapryong kim…" (yes this is about kdj telling himself that he's yjh from orv)

jake as a kid is very easy to please. he's like a porcelain doll that you have to poke in order to get a reaction, but once he knows you, he clings and never lets go. 

teen jake is almost a carbon copy of young gapryong, but when he smiles, he looks exactly like his mom. but, years of living with his dad make his smiles dim in frequency, so the resemblance goes unnoticed. 

growing up, jake would probably hate mirrors as he is reminded of how much his appearance starts resembling his dad's, when he looks into one. his relationship with his mom grows strained because he doesn't want her to be in pain when she is inevitably reminded of gapryong when she looks at him, so he always tries to disappear from her sight, and eventually runs away from home, not knowing his future in a gang where, in order to be with those his loves, he must become inseparable from his dad's violence.

zack is a typical rich kid who always gets what he wants. he is very into superhero movies and comics, and is an idealist who takes inspiration from his favourite characters. he too wishes to save his friends and protect his love just like the figures wearing flowing capes on the screen, drawn on the pages of his books. 

vasco is also into action-comics and superheroes, but he is the one who wants to be “saved.” like he looks at his mom struggle financially and emotionally as a single-parent and wonders what a saviour would look like, when they would arrive. (i think one of the many reasons he becomes breakdak's student is because he feels he is accompanying an invincible force that can guide him in his path to save others, and thus, save himself.) 

vasco’s morality also stems from the absolute goodness of heroes, where he is a stickler for reform within the boundaries of pre-established rules and codes of moral conduct.

jace as a kid is a nightmare. u know they say that kids are blunt but jace takes it to a whole another level. you CANNOT lie to him, in front of him, about him because he WILL expose your lies. his analysis goes crazy and adults are a bit scared of him. santa? “i know it’s you, dad.” “H-HOW???” “i just know. also you left the house at 8 in the evening and returned with exactly 5000 won missing from your wallet. The price of chocolate-” “OKAY. OKAY. STOP. JESUS”

goo’s weird and off-putting vibes have accompanied him from the womb. he mutilated insects by plucking out their wings and trapping them under glasses before torturing them in “the fly : short story by katherine mansfield” style. there isn’t much to say except he probably committed arson before reaching the age of twelve.

gun is the gojo satoru of lookism like the balance in the yakuza was shifted after his birth. yes the power he inherits is a burden to him but he loves having the burden and being the sole one to possess it.

he feels no genuine emotions or connections to anyone at all, as if he and the world around him are separated by an impenetrable wall, the strong existing on the pinnacle of a lonely mountain towering over the weak. 

the only emotion that gets to him is the sense of pure ecstasy he feels during fights, the thrill of fighting just for the sake of it, the enjoyment of enacting violence unto his enemies bcz he knows he is at the top (on heaven and earth, i alone am the honoured one)

that’s it for now!!! hope that clears my brainrot amen.

[alexandraisyes]

how much am i aloud to know about the Hunger Games AU :glancescutely:

TEE FUCKING HEE BITCH BUCKLE UP

And y'all this is gonna be so long but this is an AU I've been working on with Turbo for *months*. We love our TSBS hunger games.

So these are the tributes, this is just a sketch obviously

And here are the mentors, they haven't been sketched yet but have heights

And a few important people from the capitol (there will probably be a few more added later on as we work on developing the plot some more).

Each character will have several refs for the different parts of the story.

Information about the tributes. "Group" is the age group for the Games. In this world the age of maturity is 17, and once you are 17 you are considered an adult in the eyes of the law. Teens are between 12-16, Young Adults are 17-21, and just like in the States while they are adults there are a few restrictions on what all they can do, and certain jobs they can't work until they are 22. Adult is 22-29, and really the only difference between Y.Adult and Adult is that there's certain jobs you can't do when you're below 22 because young people aren't expendable like that according to this government. Elder is the last age group for the games, 30-35, and once you've crossed 35 you are no longer applicable for the Games.

(Poleart is supposed to say polearm)

Information about the Mentors. Then vs Now is how old they were when they won their games, and how old they are in the current narrative.

Tributes are selected by one female and one male tribute, in the lists for the tributes it says which group they represent in that aspect too. The government doesn't care what your pronouns are, they just care about if you're AFAB or AMAB because of tradition. The single exception is Harvest, who is lying about being AFAB and he was so vicious at the reaping about being with Blood that they didn't even bother to question it for the sake of their fingers.

We have done entire descriptions for the past arenas, but there's so much that I'm not gonna include here. Maybe in a separate post? Or when I open up a blog specifically for this AU since it's so convoluted. For an example of how long the arena descriptions are it's 5000 words. I will give you the description of the arena design for the one they're in during the story though.

72nd Annual Hunger Games Victor: Theme: **Apocalypse Forest** A post-apocalyptic wilderness where nature has reclaimed the remnants of civilization, turning it into a sprawling forest of tangled vegetation and decaying ruins. Set in the aftermath of a catastrophic event, such as a nuclear war or environmental collapse, this arena presents tributes with a harrowing landscape where survival is a constant struggle against both the elements and the remnants of humanity's downfall. The once-thriving cityscape has been engulfed by dense foliage, with skyscrapers now reduced to crumbling ruins and highways choked with overgrown vegetation. Tributes must navigate through the twisted remnants of urban infrastructure, facing hazards such as collapsed buildings, hidden traps, and radiation hotspots. The forest itself is a tangled maze of towering trees, dense undergrowth, and winding creeks, where tributes must contend with natural hazards such as toxic flora, mutated wildlife, and unpredictable weather patterns. The air is thick with the scent of decay, and the eerie silence is broken only by the distant cries of scavenging creatures and the creaking of rusted metal. Despite the desolation, pockets of life still exist within the forest, including desperate survivors, feral mutants, and rival factions vying for control. Tributes must navigate this hostile environment while also avoiding conflicts with other survivors, scavenging for resources, and deciphering the secrets of the apocalypse that brought about the forest's transformation.

There are ships, but they're not really a huge focus of the story. The main ones are surprise surprise, Blood/Sun/Harvest. If you've read my writing you should have expected this. There are a few background ships as well.

Unlike the uh canon Hunger Games, we're gonna give everyone the chance to talk to each other, hang out etc. Form alliances, friends, and rivalries. Instead of it all happening in three days before the arena, they get a whole month of training and publicity. Some parts of the story may be grueling for that reason, since we really want to give perspectives on all of the tributes. We're probably going to do a two or three-parter fic, before the games. The games. After the games.

We already know who dies, how they die, who lives, and how they live the rest of their lives after the games.

Oh yeah this is a bio-organic AU. Some of the characters are partially mechanical, like most of the celestial-based ones, but the rest are purely organic. The society is a mix of cyborgs, anthropomorphic animals, and humans.

Here's a few snippets of the plot that we have planned.

Sun and Moon are an oddity. Never has there been a set of (actual) siblings in the games before. Moon tried to tell Sun it would be okay when his name was pulled, and made sure to put on a brave face for the sake of Sun. He knew there was a 1/24 chance of him surviving the games. That was a risk he was willing to take. He would come back to Sun. You can only imagine the way his blood ran cold when they then pulled Sun's name and there was nothing he could do about it. He swore to himself he would find a way to get them free so he didn't have to see his little brother die in his arms. When Blood's name was pulled Harvest immediately pitched a fit. Blood had to pull him off of him so he could go up to the stage (and got bit for his futile effort). The second the female tribute was drawn Harvest volunteered for tribute. No one was going to kill his best friend unless it was him, thank you very fucking much. The guards tried to protest since he was coming from the male group, but they backed off after one almost lost a hand to sharp teeth. Ronty and Frank were from the same district but didn't know each other until they were both pulled for the games. Golden, Freddy's mentor, is his father. Freddy has two younger brothers who aren't old enough for the games yet. Foxy and Roxanne both have kids they need to win the games for to get back to. The Creator is the President.

[foxufortunes]

So like, just to put my previous post about the Raven's undefeated streak, how game wise it's a nonsense and championship wise it makes a little more sense, into context and to expand my thoughts on it. Let's look at lacrosse. NCAA DV1 men's lacrosse has been going for around 50years now. So actually it was formed just a little before exy was invented and if we take Nora's confusing timeline, anywhere from a few years to 10 years before NCAA exy was approved. So, they're about the same age actually.

In that time there have been 14 teams who didn't lose a single match during a season, the record being 18 teams in a season (this makes the lacrosse championships closer to the exy fall season in scale). These notably, all came in as either #1 or #2 seeds. And of these teams only 2 have ever managed consecutive undefeated seasons. These are also the two teams with the most championships (Syracuse with 10 and Johns Hopkins with 9). Syracuse has the highest win percentage of 0.691 while John Hopkins is 4th on that list with 0.651. And the most championships any team has won in a row is 3.

With pro lacrosse, the longest undefeated winning streak is 22 games, and the most titles won by one team is 6 and the highest win percentage is 0.603.

Now, if we look at the Ravens. To be generous we'll only count the five years the Foxes have been up and running, when college exy is fully funded and exy players are some of the highest payed athletes in the world and their stadiums are some of the biggest in the world, and exy is an Olympic sport. And to match up a bit better with the lacrosse size, we'll only count the fall season and assume the distract the Ravens transferred from is roughly the same size and the SE District. With those perimeters that is an undefeated streak of 75 games, 5 championships and a win percentage of 1. (And overall, if we're generous and ignore the finer details of Nora's time line, and say NCAA exy has been in full swing for let's say 15 years and still restrict it to 15 matches for the fall season, that's still a conservative estimate of 15 titles in a row and a 225 game winning streak).

The idea that even this far in the two biggest competitors with massive, well funded teams, and (if I remember Nora's extra content correctly) who got in on the ground floor just a little after college exy was created (wasn't the first ever college exy game between EA and one of the big 3? I'm not looking at the EC sheet right now, forgive me but the timeline on exy is shaky anyway), have never won even a single game by a single point or in shoot outs, is utterly ridiculous. Sure, I could by they're undefeated as champions, but never a single game lost ever is ridiculous. And counter intuitive to the spread of your game. Not only are fans not interested in a sport where they know the outcome (in both well funded and less popular sports, this usually leads to fans either turning off or paying attention to lower leagues) but especially in small unpopular sports, there's a sense that you need to spread the talent around to make the sport interesting so people will watch it. For a sport just starting out like exy was back in the day, the idea that one team will always come out on top is a death sentence. Like, even the best teams in the world sometimes play teams they're supposed to beat easily and take them too lightly and lose (actually this is stupidly common and probably the sort of thing the Foxes would face all the time, and partly how some bottom of the league teams have done what the Foxes have done and won the entire seasons yes, looking at you Leicester Foxes winning at 5000-1 that one season.) and even if we like to pretend it's not a part of sport, bad days do actually happen and sometimes your team just plays a nightmare game or the other team just pops off and is at 110% and there is just nothing you can do.

[gastlygallows]

Just saw a video on twt making fun of some woman in a bookstore picking up novels and saying "oh the main character fucks her uncle in this", "this author used to write KyloRey fic" and I have to ask how are fanfic authors comfortable exposing their professional lives to their fandom followers?

With as miserable and rabid as cancel culture has been re: creatives are you allowed to just say "yeah I write problematic stuff but I'm sorry for being white and I promise I'm a Good Person (TM) here's some pron for the female gaze"?

Does this only apply to erotica? I have a whole backlog of fanfic I've been meaning to reupload and I have three semi-active AO3 accounts, I wouldn't mind the extra eyes on my professional work but I've been very very reluctant to combine my fandom identities and my professional one because of cancel culture and also I don't think the ages of fictional characters matter I write a lot of Pokemon stuff lol

I'm also not sorry for anything I've written or said ever so there's that, there's no "oh I wrote this ten years ago I'm sorry it doesn't reflect my current values" my current values still include Pinecest

I'd rather have my legs cut off than ever bend the knee and it doesn't matter too much since my bf will be pulling in enough money in a few years that even if I got "cancelled" it'd be inconsequential but for now I am trying to make money

I just don't get how some fanfic authors are like "anyway here's my original stuff" and don't separate their identities like at all

Is it insanity or bravery? Am I just schizophrenic? I've got more victim points than anyone who would try to "cancel" me I just actively choose not to play retarded games since imo the only thing to be won are retarded prizes

Anyway the people making fun of those women in the video are mean however I think there's a good faith argument to be made that if you defend erotica and porn for women you shouldn't have a problem with l0li or ecchi anime content either--I would die for the right of a basement dweller to get off to his 5000 year old dragon l0li idgaf my principles are applied FAIRLY and EQUALLY to everyone the way that you should objectively apply your princples and opinions I would also take a bullet for you to consume reader inserts with uh whatever is the most mainstream thing about normie women these days lol

No I will not shame you for reading 50 shades of grey but I will also not shame some ugly fat 4channer for his doujinshi collection at the end of the day none of you are hurting anyone for what you get off to and the dating economy is garbage even if you're bisexual (like me)

It's all fictional and I think a lot of women especially on this website need to get off their high horse--Touhou yuri is primarily for dudes the same way Nitro Chiral is primarily for girls get over it

[hanquokkasgirl]

-CHAPTER 4-  

  I spent the whole night tossing and turning. How is it possible that Airport Guy was a part of that group? I still didn't had all that clear who my assignment was going to be but if it was him and his group... I was screwed.

    It's not in my plans to fall in love or get into any type of relationship while I'm here, working. But Clarissa always told me that in the matters of the heart, the brain has no say in it. I would be lucky if I was only able to sleep only like 2 hours last night. This is just a great way to start on my first day.

    My alarm rang at exactly 6 AM, and of course I just didn't want to wake up. But I made the effort and got in the shower. When I was washing my hair, the image of Min-Gi popped in my head. His smile was very captivating, I couldn't lie about that. I shook my head, I had to concentrate and focus on what I came here to do. I came to style and work on make up styles for a group that upcoming in the fashion and music industry and could break out big someday. No boy, man or anybody was going to be interfering in the path that I was planning for myself here. I get out of the shower, and wrap myself in a towel to do my skincare. Now that my entire luggage had gotten here, last night at 2 am its when the packages had gotten here, very convenient, all my skincare was here as well. Make up, was next and then the first outfit that was going to set me up for the rest of the year at the very least. I decided to do something a little more business casual so I grabbed a dress up blouse with a black corset, the buttons of the blouse were unbuttoned only the first two, then a pair of dress up pants with a flare cut and my louboutins. A black purse with the essentials that I need for today and headed to get a new sim card. At this point it was already 7:30 AM.

    "Ah, Soo-Jin great you're up. Where can I get a sim card that works in this country?" I said while moving my phone in my hand.

    She was having breakfast at the little isle in the kitchen. "Woah... You look stunning! Uhm, yeah. Just go to the convenience store that's right downstairs and ask for one. And a e-sim, it's just easier that way." She went back to her cereal. Since she was more like a part time employee, and my assistant/roommate, she didn't have to go to work right away and had to go to some classes or maybe she had online classes, I still didn't know.

    "Amazing! Do they speak english? My korean is not that fluent just yet."

    "Yes, the guy at the register should speak english." I look at the time and I have to get going. I mouth a thanks and leave. I take the elevator and go all the way down to the first floor. I say hello to the concierge as I pass him, and head straight to the convenience store.

    Since it was in like the building next door it was easy to locate and not hard at all to find. Since I was already going to buy something, I made my way to get a triangle kimbap and cup of ice with some coffee. It was a really good thing I researched a thing or two before my trip.

    "Annyeonhaseyo." I say to the cashier handing him my items.

    "Ne. Annyeonhaseyo." After that he talk a little bit more in korean and faster which I obviously couldn't understand. I just opened my mouth. "Ah, you must be Soo-Jin's friend. I'm Dong-Won, I'm a friend of Soo-Jin from school." He said in English.

    "Ah good, I'm sorry. It's just that my korean is not that fluent yet. I'm trying to get better." I chuckled in a little bit of embarrasment. "I need an e-sim card that I can activate as soon as possible." I said trying to indicate that I was in a rush but without being too obvious.

    "Sure! It would be 5000 won, cash or card?" He said while making eye contact with me. I couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. The deepest brown eyes, with a type of haircut that just suited him so well, his smile was so contagious.

    "Uhm... cash." I said while looking in my purse and handing him the money. "Wow, this is already cheaper than in the states I tell you." I laughed at my own joke. Stupid.

    "Ha, yeah, I guess so. Well, have a good day." He bagged all my stuff and handed it to me.

    "Well, it was nice to meet you Dong-Won, I'm Y/N. But now I feel I'm officially late for my first day." I started walking out the door while waving at him.

    "Nice to meet you too, Y/N" he waved at me goodbye. I called a taxi on the street, since I didn't have the time to learn how to get there on the subway or bus.

    "KQ Entertainment juseyo." I said in the best broken korean I could. At least the taxi driver understood me and I had enough cash in hand to pay for one. After just ten minutes, we had arrived. "Gamsahapnida" I pay and get out. The traffic here is definitely better than in New York. I let out a sigh and get onto the building for the big day in my adult life.

    "Hi. I need to get my picture taken for my ID badge?" I already knew that this security guard spoke english so that actually helped a lot.

    "One moment please." Again, input some digits in the phone but this time he handed me a card. "This is an entry card. Go to the first office on the left and give it to the person that will give you your ID and take your photo. Then head on to the 10th floor, where Ms. Jung will meet you and start your assignment."

    "Wow, ok thanks." I grab the card and scan it on the entrance turnstiles. I head to the first office on the left, where I'm greeted with yet another receptionist. "Annyeonghaseyo" I hand her the card and she just gestures me to follow her. I just do as I am told here, don't want to ruin things here on my first day. She takes me to a room with a pretty white-ish backdrop and a few lights.

    "Look here and smile" She told me pointing at the camera. Total high school flashback, as if I was back in picture day. But with a pretty great glow-up since then at least. After a couple of minutes, she hands me my ID with one of those stringy clips that you can attach to your clothes. I clipped it to my pants, that way its on display and in reach.

    "Thanks." I didn't exactly knew what to do next so I just headed out towards the elevators, and pressed number 10 to meet with Ms. Jung. But I stopped it from going up when I heard a 'hold the elevator' from the outside.

    It was him. Min-gi. In the elevator, with me. It was just the two of us in here. "Thank you." He said to me shyly. All I could do was just glance him a smile and go back to look at the floor. Why am I so nervous? He's just a guy... whom I am with alone in an elevator. It totally doesn't remind me of nothing at all. "So... You're here. Small world." Sure. It wasn't awkward at all.

    "And you're here. Thanks for the save at the airport, I didn't get a chance to thank you before." I looked up at him and finally made eye contact. His eyes were incredibly beautiful, his smile shines brighter than a million diamonds. His lips look so full and shiny... it just makes you want to kiss them.

    And breaking me from that spell was a little ding. We had arrived to the 8th floor, his floor. "Sure, I guess I'll see you around." Min-Gi got out of the elevator and waved back at me as the elevator doors started closing. I'm not the kind of girl to just daydream about guys I just met. So, this totally caught me off guard. I had arrived to the 11th floor, the styling floor, where I would be a team leader from today on. Ms. Jung was waiting for me at the elevator doors as soon as I was ready to step out.

"Good, I'll be your help and guide for your first day. Since Soo-Jin has to be in school until 2 in the afternoon, I'll be your help until we can find someone else to take over. Now first, we need to come up with a concept for their new comeback..." She was talking and walking with me guiding me through the office while handing me papers. Most of them were translated to english for my sake, and were prettyeasy to follow through.

"That's alright. To follow an idea of what the concept is though, I need to listen to at least a demo." I said to her while writing down some notes on the drawn models I had in my hands.

"That's no issue... just head down to the 8th floor and ask for Hong-Joong, he's the team leader and head producer. He should have some ideas and concepts ready for you. Now this will be your office." She opened the door to a gorgeous, penthouse like office. All decorated to how I would've done it. I was sincerely starstruck.

"Wow. Ok. Tell the boys that I'll need them in the conference room in 20 minutes to take their measurements. And talk styling points." I told Jung.

"Right away Ms. Hart."

"Y/N, please. I don't do formalities like that." I said so she could relax. We looked like the same age anyway so being called Miss, just seems really weird.

"Then, I'm Ji-Hyeon." She said smiling to me while closing the door to my office. My office. I still couldn't believe what I was saying. I sat in my chair and did some twirls before landing on my desk, as happy as I could ever be.